FI CH 42

Chapter 42: Underground Labyrinth (XII)

That sentence was like lifting a ban. Bai Hua stared at Kurosawa for a moment, his sluggish mind finally starting to function again. Overwhelming desire drove him to pounce like a beast.

Kurosawa had only gotten halfway through unbuttoning his shirt when he abruptly let go and grabbed Bai Hua’s attacking hands instead. Even though Bai Hua was physically exhausted and not at his usual strength, his speed and power were still difficult to handle. Kurosawa could only barely fend him off. He hadn’t forgotten they were still on a mission—if his clothes got torn, it’d be a serious problem.

“Bai Hua, calm down…” Kurosawa’s voice remained steady, but the speed of his undressing quickened.

Bai Hua stared intensely at Kurosawa’s exposed collarbone and chest, his gaze trailing along the other’s long fingers down to each button being undone. The defined lines of Kurosawa’s muscles appeared before him, and somewhere in his subconscious, he still remembered how it felt to touch them. He couldn’t resist anymore and pounced again.

But this time, Kurosawa was ready. His natural guide instincts helped him dodge Bai Hua’s attempt to pin him down. He knew that if he wanted to counter, he might only get one chance.

Triggering a heat cycle was itself a clash, a competition—an instinctual battle between sentinel and guide.

Bai Hua lunged again. Even though he had lost his sense of reason, his body’s combat instincts remained. He wouldn’t let his prey escape over and over. As Kurosawa dodged again, Bai Hua reacted swiftly, grabbing his arm and pinning him to the stone wall.

Where their skin met, it felt like fire. The fusion of pheromones grew more intense. Under the effects of the aphrodisiac, Kurosawa was also on the verge of losing control from the craving surging through him. Yet the cold sensation from the stone wall against his back helped jolt a shred of clarity back into him.

The next second, Bai Hua’s lips crashed into his, recklessly claiming him, tongue prying in greedily. His hands slid down Kurosawa’s waist, slipping underneath.

Kurosawa responded, going along with the motions. One hand pressed against Bai Hua’s back, slowly trailing down along his spine. Sentinel uniforms were made from special material—meant to protect their hypersensitive skin—so they couldn’t be easily torn or damaged. He remembered the specific part where it could be undone was…

Kurosawa found the spot he remembered—just along Bai Hua’s waist—and quickly slipped his fingers through the gap in the fabric, pressing lightly on the bare skin beneath. He’d noticed before: Bai Hua was extremely sensitive there.

“Mm…” Bai Hua let out a stifled groan, brows furrowed, and all his aggressive movements ceased in an instant.

Now.

Kurosawa seized the moment to push Bai Hua away and swiftly flipped him onto the ground. With practiced ease, he tore open the rest of Bai Hua’s clothing. His hand moved with deliberate gentleness, tracing the contours of the other’s back—toned muscles beneath pale, untouched skin that felt warm and incredibly soft to the touch.

Pinned face-down on the ground, Bai Hua found himself in a position difficult to resist from. Even more overwhelming was the feeling of being touched so intimately—it left him completely powerless.

When Kurosawa’s hand slipped under the waistband, Bai Hua let out another deep, involuntary sound.

But this wasn’t about teasing anymore. The heat between them had grown too strong, bordering on unbearable. Their bodies cried out for release—for union.

Following pure instinct, Kurosawa shifted Bai Hua’s legs apart. His fingers reached a particularly sensitive place, and without much preparation, attempted entry with a bit more urgency than care.

The sting of it startled Bai Hua enough to snap him back into semi-awareness. His body went rigid, but the more he tried to resist, the deeper Kurosawa’s fingers pressed.

The space was tight, gripping uncomfortably. Kurosawa leaned down, pressing soft, calming kisses along Bai Hua’s back, trying to ease the tension. His touch grew more gentle as he maintained a slow rhythm, until the tightness began to give, the inner warmth gradually responding—even if he couldn’t quite tell whether it was natural or not.

Once Kurosawa was certain Bai Hua could no longer resist him—not from lack of will, but from complete exhaustion—he slowly withdrew his fingers, then turned Bai Hua around so they were face to face.

Bai Hua’s flushed face was filled with a mixture of aching desire and visible distress.

Kurosawa leaned in again, using his knee to nudge Bai Hua’s legs apart. He lifted Bai Hua’s waist slightly and placed both hands on his shoulders. His desire, already burning hot, rested against Bai Hua’s entrance—but just as he was about to move forward, Bai Hua suddenly grabbed his wrist.

The grip was shockingly strong, as if trying to crush bone.

Kurosawa winced from the pain, but didn’t pull back. He shifted his hips slightly, allowing the tip of his length to graze against Bai Hua’s body—not forcefully, but suggestively, as if to ask for permission.

Even that small action sent a shiver through Bai Hua’s entire frame. He trembled, clearly overwhelmed, but his hand remained firmly in place.

Kurosawa fought the urge to press in, his voice deep and hoarse from restraint.

“Bai Hua… let me hold you.”

Bai Hua didn’t answer, but the strength in his grip slowly loosened.

Kurosawa understood—that was his answer. Without hesitating further, he lowered himself, and with one determined push, finally entered.

Bai Hua immediately let out a cry of pain, his grip tightening fiercely on Kurosawa’s hand once again.

But Kurosawa held firm, undeterred by Bai Hua’s struggle. With steady determination, he continued pushing forward, the heat between them sharp and overwhelming as he slowly and firmly filled him completely.

He knew this wasn’t the time to be gentle. Even if consent had been given, once the bond heat fully took over, both sides were likely to lose rational thought. If he didn’t take control now, he risked being overwhelmed later.

Gently, Kurosawa caressed Bai Hua’s face in an attempt to soothe him. Then he pulled back slightly—only to drive in again with deliberate force.

The lack of proper preparation made every motion rough at first. The friction between their joined bodies was raw, bordering on painful. But in the midst of that pain, there was a strange undercurrent of pleasure—faint at first, then slowly growing. As natural fluids began to ease the way, the rhythm became smoother, and Bai Hua’s tense body began to loosen under the growing sensation.

Realizing just how deeply he could feel Kurosawa moving within him, Bai Hua instinctively shifted—only for Kurosawa to thrust again, striking a spot deep inside.

“Ah—!”

The cry escaped before he could stop it. The sudden stimulation sent a jolt through his whole body, his legs trembling, the tight ring of muscles clenching involuntarily around the heat buried within him. He could feel it swell again inside him.

He couldn’t hold it in any longer. Gasping, he called out the other’s name. “Kurosawa…”

Kurosawa’s body tensed for a brief moment—but then, gripping Bai Hua’s waist, he thrust deeper, deliberately grinding against every sensitive nerve he could reach.

Bai Hua finally broke down into helpless moans, his resistance completely shattered. He was utterly consumed.

The waves of overwhelming pleasure left him breathless, his vision hazy, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes.

They were a mess—bodies smeared with dirt and sweat from the rough ground beneath them. But neither cared anymore. Locked in a feverish embrace, they kissed like they were drowning, surrounded by the intense, cloying scent of each other’s pheromones.

Too sweet. Too strong.

But somehow, still not enough.

Kurosawa was suddenly struck by an even deeper craving. It wasn’t just physical—he wanted to go further, to pierce into Bai Hua’s very consciousness, until their souls were completely entwined.

Fighting to stay lucid amid the waves of heat, he rasped out:

“Bai Hua… open your mental landscape to me. I need to enter your mind and complete the bond.”

Bai Hua could only gasp for air, unable to form a single word.

“It might hurt a little. Bear with it…” Kurosawa pressed his forehead gently against Bai Hua’s, eyes closed.

In his haze, Bai Hua could feel a sharp, needle-like thread of spiritual energy piercing into his mind—deeper and deeper, far beyond what seemed possible, winding and tightening with a relentless force. The pain made him groan low in his throat, and he bit down hard on Kurosawa’s lips.

Blood immediately welled up at the corner of Kurosawa’s mouth, tinged thickly with pheromones, and it flowed into Bai Hua’s mouth—oddly calming him. His mental defenses collapsed completely.

Once again, Kurosawa entered Bai Hua’s consciousness. This time, the layer of hazy black mist he had seen before had fully dissipated. In its place, a scene of peace unfolded within Bai Hua’s mental landscape.

Kurosawa found himself standing in front of a house—it looked like Bai Hua’s childhood home.

A small version of Bai Hua stood in front of the house, watching him. This was a world Bai Hua had constructed within his spirit, so it made sense that he could perceive Kurosawa.

A woman stepped out of the house and gently patted the little boy’s head. He smiled at her and called out, “Mama.”

So Bai Hua hadn’t lied. He really had grown up in a loving and warm environment. A dependable father, a gentle mother—a pair of devoted parents.

That kind of love had completely embraced even a dark sentinel like Bai Hua.

Kurosawa looked up at the sky. Here, there was no war. No conflict. No bloodshed caused by clashing interests…

Everyone was smiling.

Is this what you’ve always yearned for?

Is that how you were able to create such a world…?

Kurosawa heard footsteps and turned to find the little Bai Hua still standing there, watching him quietly. He took a step forward, entering the yard. Then another step—stepping into Bai Hua’s inner world.

He crouched down to meet the boy’s eyes and asked softly, “Will you come with me?”

The little Bai Hua asked, “Where to?”

“To be with me.”

The boy turned to glance back at the house. “But… Mama and Papa…”

“They’ll be alright. They’ll always be together. And from now on… we will too.”

The child looked into Kurosawa’s eyes for a long, silent moment—then finally nodded.

“Okay.”

Kurosawa reached out his hand, palm open. Bai Hua’s smaller hand trembled slightly as it clasped his—this was trust, the hard-earned kind, forged through everything they’d endured. Finally, Kurosawa had truly gained Bai Hua’s trust.

As their consciousness returned, so did all their senses—sharpened and vivid.

He was still lying over Bai Hua, joined with him in a way that left no space between them, their connection as deep as it could go. At that moment, desire and emotion melded into one, a bond more than just physical.

As the union ritual completed, they reached their peak together.

The dizziness and the feverish heat within began to ebb. Little by little, clarity returned to both.

Bai Hua’s breathing gradually steadied, though he still felt drained. With a tinge of embarrassment, he gave Kurozawa a push. “Get off…”

But Kurozawa didn’t move as asked. He only tightened his hold around Bai Hua’s waist—and shifted slightly.

That small movement was enough for Bai Hua to feel the unmistakable stir of something awakening inside him again. “You…”

“Once wasn’t enough,” Kurosawa murmured, voice thick with heat. “You can still take it… right?”

Bai Hua didn’t know how to respond. That same roguish teasing he’d seen when they first met had returned to the man’s face—but in this moment, the words felt far more provocative. Uneasy, he muttered, “…Don’t mess around.”

“Our compatibility rate is off the charts,” Kurosawa said, his voice low and velvety as he nuzzled against Bai Hua’s neck. “So high… I think even my guiding abilities are coming back.”

His tone carried an unusual kind of allure.

“I want to try something,” Kurosawa said.

“Try what?” Bai Hua asked, wary.

“Shared-sense intimacy.”

Before Bai Hua could fully process what he’d just heard, Kurosawa had already turned his head and kissed him—deep and sure, his tongue slipping past parted lips like it knew the way by heart.

With their pheromones harmonized, the tension had turned gentle and warm. But Kurosawa’s kiss still left Bai Hua feeling flushed, breathless.

Pinned beneath him, Bai Hua couldn’t escape—nor did he dare move. Without his protective gear, his body was hypersensitive—especially after everything they’d just done.

And yet, Kurosawa wasn’t rushing. He moved like a lover savoring every moment, deliberately trailing kisses from Bai Hua’s lips down to his neck—lingering, teasing, drawing quiet gasps from him bit by bit.

If their first time had been driven by raw instinct and uncontrollable desire, then this second time was entirely according to Kurosawa’s will.

The subtle movements deep inside made Bai Hua squirm from the overwhelming sensation. He couldn’t help but gasp, whispering, “Don’t just think about… indecent things…”

“I’m not just thinking about them,” Kurosawa said softly, “I’m already doing them…”

Bai Hua had never imagined that a Guide could be this dominant—and this shameless.

“Are you ready?” Kurosawa murmured near his ear. “I’m going to start…”

“Start what?”

Kurosawa didn’t answer with words. Instead, he used his spiritual energy to pluck the invisible string that connected their minds—resonating with it like a note struck in harmony.

All outside sounds seemed to vanish in an instant.

And just like that, Bai Hua became acutely aware—his entire perception was now in Kurosawa’s hands.

“You’re trying to—”

He didn’t get to finish. The sensation of movement returned suddenly, deep within, and a wave of pure pleasure crashed into him without warning.

Then came the realization—something nearly unbearable.

He could feel everything Kurosawa felt as he entered him—the surging heat, the overwhelming bliss. Their minds were sharing every emotion, every pulse of pleasure. And what was worse, Kurosawa could feel his reactions too. It was as if he’d been stripped completely bare, left with no walls, no secrets—every flicker of sensitivity rebounding back to them both.

In this kind of shared consciousness, words lost all meaning. Mouths had only one purpose now: to kiss and to gasp.

It was mortifying. And yet, impossibly addictive.

Kurosawa held him tightly, moving with precision, aiming for every vulnerable spot. His hand traced down Bai Hua’s taut waist and wrapped firmly around him.

Bai Hua’s body jolted in response, and he let out a choked sound—part gasp, part sob. Being overwhelmed from both sides left him defenseless against the storm of sensation.

Kurosawa’s long fingers moved in rhythm with the rising heat between them. Though it was someone else’s hand, it still somehow felt like an echo of his own touch—amplified, intensified.

Bai Hua thought he might lose his mind from the sheer intensity of it all.

Amid the haze, Bai Hua unintentionally picked up fragments of Kurosawa’s thoughts—memories that spilled through their shared consciousness.

The timeline traced back to their very first meeting: the way Bai Hua had been on high alert, the furrow in his brow, the guarded look in his eyes, even the smallest of gestures. Every detail had been meticulously preserved in Kurosawa’s mind. Through his perspective, Bai Hua was able to see himself as Kurosawa had seen him—watching each layer of defense slowly fall away.

He felt Kurosawa’s desire, yes—but even more deeply, the yearning that had been buried beneath all that restraint. A longing, fierce and honest.

He had once thought it was all just instinct, impulsive attraction, lust. But it wasn’t just that.

It was also love—a quiet, hidden longing woven through every glance and hesitation.

“You… really…?” Bai Hua was nearly in disbelief. Kurosawa had always seemed so calm, so unaffected. He had never considered that the man might have fallen for him long ago.

But shared consciousness doesn’t lie.

This was Kurosawa’s unspoken confession, laid bare.

“There’s no ‘impossible’ here,” Kurosawa said, his voice low and roughened by passion.

“Because it’s you.”

Bai Hua wanted to say something more, to ask—yet no words would come.

Instead, his awareness was drawn back to his body, to the place where they were joined. The sensory input of a Sentinel was amplified sharply, and an overwhelming wave of pleasure surged over him.

Kurosawa could feel the way Bai Hua’s body clenched around him, warmer and tighter by the second. He knew Bai Hua was close—so he gripped his waist and thrust deeply upward.

Bai Hua cried out, unable to hold back, releasing in Kurosawa’s hand first.

The intense contractions that followed pushed Kurosawa over the edge as well.

Both collapsed in a tangled heap, gasping for breath. They’d been in this place for dozens of sleepless hours, and after such intense exertion, exhaustion finally caught up with them.

With the last of his strength, Kurosawa dragged their clothes over to cover them, but couldn’t manage to get dressed. The air was cold, so he pulled Bai Hua close, holding him in a quiet, intimate embrace.

Bai Hua leaned in without resistance, closed his eyes, and let himself melt into the warmth of Kurosawa’s presence—a steady, comforting breath that made him feel safe.

(To be continued…)
T/L: OMG??? So Kurosawa really fell for Bai Hua long ago?? I knew it! He’s such a yearner—like, deeply and hopelessly in love, probably replaying every small interaction in his head for months. The shared-sense intimacy moment?? I’m seated. I’m NOT okay. These two have me fully invested. ( //>///<//)♡