Chapter 155 He Wasn’t Dreaming

Lu Er lay on his side, his pale back exposed.

The lines of his shoulder blades were exquisite, the curve of his waist astonishingly defined.

Further down… the edge of the blanket half-covered him, leaving just enough to spark imagination.

Song Jingmo froze instantly, his blood seemingly solidifying in that moment.

He even questioned whether he was hallucinating from exhaustion.

Just as he was too stunned to think, Lu Er slowly turned toward him.

In the darkness, a pair of peach-blossom eyes gleamed astonishingly, staring at him unblinking.

That face—far too beautiful.

It was his Er’er.

“Dr. Song,”

His voice, hoarse from just waking and tinged with an unmasked smile, was unusually clear in the silent darkness.

And irresistibly alluring. “Pull the blanket off; I’m cold.”

He wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

Seeing Song Jingmo unmoving, he simply reached out.

His fingertips lightly hooked the waistband of his sleepwear, which was still frozen in place, and gently tugged him closer.

“Heard someone’s been starving for half a month?”

Lu Er tilted his face up, his breath sprinkling over Song Jingmo’s jaw.

“Perfect timing—I specifically closed shop today just to provide a VIP with a private, custom service.”

“Would you like to order?”

Song Jingmo looked at him, his voice deep: “Yes… can it be unlimited?”

Lu Er snapped, “Aren’t you afraid of overeating?”

“Er’er…”

Song Jingmo’s mind glitched for half a second, then was instantly overwhelmed by immense surprise and disbelief.

All his fatigue and disappointment were shattered in that instant by the sight of this living, breathing, familiar body before him.

He wasn’t dreaming.

His Er’er had truly returned.

And in such an utterly unexpected way—right in his bed.

The next second, driven by instinct, Song Jingmo precisely pulled the smiling boy into his arms.

His grip tightened astonishingly, as if he wanted to press him into his very bones to confirm his real presence.

“Y… you… how did you come back?”

Song Jingmo’s voice was hoarse, still trembling with shock, his chin resting on the soft crown of Lu Er’s hair.

The fragrance in his arms made his heartbeat thunder. “Why didn’t you tell me in advance?”

“I could’ve come to pick you up. So late, all alone—what if someone saw you…”

A string of questions tumbled out, completely breaking his usual calm composure.

Lu Er, a little breathless from the tight hold, laughed even more joyfully.

He lifted his head and, in the darkness, found Song Jingmo’s lips without missing a beat.

He gave him a comforting kiss first, then pressed his lips to his.

His voice, playful and slightly tired from his long journey, was unusually clear: “If I told you beforehand… would it still be a surprise?”

He brushed against his nose, his tone teasing, “I wanted to give you a birthday gift you’d never forget.”

“A personally… delivered-to-your-door kind of gift.”

The words “birthday gift” were whispered with suggestive breathiness, full of endless implication.

Song Jingmo’s breathing grew heavy instantly.

All doubts, all concerns, vanished in that moment.

Deprived of sight in the darkness, his other senses sharpened intensely.

He could clearly feel the warmth, softness, and complete dependence and invitation of the body in his arms.

No hesitation. No more questions.

He responded with a kiss a hundred times hotter, a hundred times more commanding than the first gentle one.

Carrying the joy, carrying over half a month of longing.

Carrying the surging intensity of hidden loss, now completely filled, breaking through all defenses.

Lu Er let out a muffled moan at first, then responded passionately.

He wrapped his arms tightly around Song Jingmo’s neck, tilting his head to take the kiss that seemed to steal all his breath.

Their lips and tongues intertwined, breaths mingled, the air thick with wet sounds and stifled gasps.

While kissing, Song Jingmo pressed him back onto the soft bed.

His hands brushed over his warm, smooth skin, fingertips callused slightly, sending tiny shivers across his body.

Lu Er was dizzy from the intensity of the kiss; in the dim light, his body gleamed with a pearly luster.

His eyes, rimmed with enticing red, shimmered with watery light.

In a breath between kisses, he teased through gasps: “Mmm… Dr. Song… you’ve really… been starving, huh…”

The soft bedding sank under their weight and the increasingly fervent movements.

Song Jingmo responded with deeper kisses and firmer touches.

With one hand, he easily controlled his restless hands, lifting them, pressing him down.

Overhead, he used his other hand to hold his wrists firmly.

This dominating stance made Lu Er squirm slightly, which only made Song Jingmo breathe heavier.

“Don’t move…”

His voice was hoarse, his lips scorching as they trailed down his neck, leaving wet, warm marks.

“Only half a month… and you…”

He said nothing, only kissed harder, exploring more boldly with the other hand.

Clothes had long been discarded, scattered across the floor; the sensation of skin-on-skin sent shivers through them.

Lu Er’s body, sculpted for acting and deliberately kept fit, was slimmer than before.

His bones more defined, yet the texture remained firm and supple.

Song Jingmo’s palms traced his slightly prominent shoulder blades, his indented waist, feeling the subtle shivers under his touch.

The bedroom was filled only with entwined figures, rapid breaths, low moans, and sounds that made the heart race.

Lu Er could banter back at first, but soon only broken whimpers and occasional uncontrolled cries escaped.

Song Jingmo seemed to pour out the half-month separation and longing through this passionate release.

Rough, yet tender at key moments—contradictory but deeply affectionate.

Sweat soaked their hair and skin, breaths interlaced, heartbeats synchronized.

Until finally, Lu Er collapsed exhausted among the disheveled bedding.

Only the heavy rise and fall of chests and soft whimpers remained.

When the alarm on the bedside table suddenly rang late at night, they were still tightly embraced, breaths uneven.

Without hesitation, Song Jingmo reached out and silenced the noisy electronic tone with precision.

The room fell back into a warm, ambiguous silence.