Pretending to Be an Alpha in an All-Alpha Boy Band - Chapter 18

Chapter 18 — Magazine Shoot

The Alphas’ footsteps suddenly stopped.

Yuan Shiyuan lay on the table, which was more than big enough for him, now hemmed in on all sides by five S-rank Alphas. Their towering forms cast overlapping shadows, enclosing Yuan Shiyuan in a cramped, menacing aura.

The grip on his ankle tightened abruptly. Yuan could clearly feel the large palm clutching his ankle sweating faintly; the broad hand pressed unimpeded against his skin, heat and dampness weaving together into a strange, oppressive wetness.

The body fluids might contain components that cause Alphas to become addicted…

Blood? Saliva? Sweat? All of these count as body fluids.

In an instant, Yuan Shiyuan looked down at his knee.

The scratched blood had already clotted, leaving only a faint red mark — barely any trace of an injury.

Yuan Shiyuan was full of question marks. Seriously?

All because of this little bit of blood? This insignificant smear could make this group of S-rank Alphas fall into such a bizarre state?

“Guys, calm down… ugh!”

The force at his ankle snapped tighter, and Yuan Shiyuan reflexively clapped a hand over his mouth. He watched, helpless, as Ying Mingche crouched down — his handsome face almost touching the sole of Yuan’s foot. The proximity and the scene made a cold shiver run over him, gooseflesh rising.

He was about to kick Ying Mingche away when Ying Mingche stuck out his tongue. The irregular tongue stud glinted a cool light in the air as it touched his knee.

Ying Mingche very lightly licked the wound.

The metallic chill of the stud and the warm dampness of the tongue formed a stark contrast on the fragile skin. Yuan Shiyuan flinched violently; his slender waist tightened, he bit down on his curled fingers, and his expression went blank.

Ying Mingxi was frozen as well.

The concentration of S-rank pheromones around them surged.

Yuan Shiyuan gasped and turned his head; his gaze inevitably met another Alpha’s — deep, dark eyes.

At that moment, someone knocked on the door: “Why are you taking so long to change?”

The dressing room door wasn’t locked; people could just walk in. Zhuang He looked at the scene before him: five S-rank Alphas like hungry wolves circling Yuan Shiyuan on the table, his thin, bony ankle still held in Ying Mingche’s hand.

He asked, on guard, “?? What are you all doing?”

Xiao Huang peeked in: “Wow.”

The Alphas ignored him and continued staring at Yuan Shiyuan’s face. Only after another two or three seconds did they finally tear their eyes away.

“Shiyuan’s knee is injured. We’re treating it.”

“Does treatment take this long?”

Zhuang He still felt something was off, but when he came closer he saw that Yuan’s knee was indeed scratched. The surface was wet, covered with a suspicious sheen — it looked like it had already been treated.

“You okay?” Seeing Yuan Shiyuan shake his head, he told everyone, “Finish up and come out; the stylist’s waiting outside.”

“Mm.”

After Zhuang He left, Yuan Shiyuan cleared his throat and tested: “Were you… not fully conscious just now?”

“Fully conscious.” The Alphas answered in unison, their tones chillingly calm.

Yuan Shiyuan was confused. “Then why did you—”

He had meant to say, why did you suddenly act like that and scare me. Then he reconsidered: they hadn’t really done anything, they’d just come over.

Unable to find fault with them, he turned to Ying Mingche: “Then why did you lick me?”

The tongue had brushed the stud as if savoring something. Ying Mingche’s tone was casual, seemingly no different from usual: “To disinfect you.”

“Spit disinfects? My brother often treats small animals; he’s a doctor. Don’t believe me? Ask him.”

Ying Mingxi: “……”

Yuan Shiyuan didn’t ask.

Everyone else acted as if nothing had happened, and he finally let out a breath.

That was terrifying — he’d thought they were going to do something to him.

As for Ying Mingche’s sudden behavior, Yuan Shiyuan didn’t probe further. He’d been shaken badly moments before, almost convinced Ying Mingche was about to lick his foot.

Precisely because of that horrifying possibility, when he saw Ying Mingche only lightly touch the knee wound, he inexplicably found the action acceptable.

Licking a knee is not the same as licking a foot.

Thank goodness.

The medical report’s warnings — “might be addictive,” “might forcibly trigger Alphas into a susceptible period” — didn’t come true. It had all been a misunderstanding.

It was a green report, not a yellow one.

The Alphas hadn’t lied; they’d been fully conscious the whole time, clear enough to notice the slightest shifts in Yuan Shiyuan’s expression, to distinguish the faint flash of tongue between slightly parted lips and clenched teeth.

Including the moment Ying Mingche’s tongue stud touched the knee wound — under Yuan Shiyuan’s astonished gaze, the trembling of his bitten finger.

Tempting, delicious, appetizing, like an exquisite cake displayed in a cabinet, it made them eager to get closer and taste.

When Yuan Shiyuan looked down to straighten his clothes, he didn’t notice that all five Alphas’ gazes had fallen on him. The door opened and a bright light streamed in from outside, making the waistline under his clothes stand out particularly clearly.

Just now Ying Mingche had only brushed his knee, and his waist already began to tremble in fine ripples.

So sensitive.

–

The shoot was set at the seaside, themed “Summer Carnival,” blending the sultriness of the beach with the childlike fun of an amusement park. The set used highly saturated colors. One area was even fitted with artificial snow to create an off-season effect.

The moment Yuan Shiyuan stepped onto the sand, he automatically raised a hand to shield his eyes; the scorching sunlight slipped through his fingers and revealed vivid colors not far away.

Although he had seen the concept art, the impact in person was much stronger.

The set looked like a seaside amusement park — multicolored laser confetti props, carousel rides, weirdly shaped shells — all adding a dreamlike quality to the scene.

Zhou Heng was in charge of shooting. He glanced at Yuan Shiyuan, then looked away and pretended to be adjusting camera settings. Stammering, he said, “We’ll do a few test shots first, get a feel for it.”

The test shots included solo and duo combinations. To Zhuang He’s surprise, although it was Yuan Shiyuan’s first magazine shoot, he relaxed naturally in front of the camera and carried a strong presence — very photogenic. Several head-on shots seemed to completely own the lens.

The developed photos could be used as-is, no post-processing required.

The other S-rank Alphas were not doing as well.

There was no doubt the five S-rank Alphas were handsome and well-built — the kind of men people online called double-door refrigerators. Their solo shots were indeed good, their styling on point, but they gave off a contrived vibe.

The artificiality almost oozed from the screen.

Song Mian didn’t even glance at the other Alphas besides Yuan Shiyuan; in a very quiet voice he said, “ShiYuan ge, could you give me a copy of those photos?”

They all knew Song Mian was the Omega brother of the UN head, so of course they didn’t refuse. He tucked the photos into his pocket like a treasured prize, a faint, content smile at the corner of his mouth.

“I have an idea!” Zhuang He suddenly stood up, slapping the table. He looked at Song Mian. “Can I borrow those photos?”

Song Mian, unsure why but willing, nodded.

The five Scepter Alphas’ solo shots were arranged in a ring around Yuan Shiyuan’s headshot.

This created an extremely unusual image.

In those five solo shots, each of Scepter’s five members deliberately avoided looking at the camera — some glancing sideways, some bowing their heads — their gazes all powerfully focused on the center. In the central headshot, Yuan Shiyuan faced the lens and smiled, completely unaware that danger was closing in.

It produced an illusion — as if Yuan Shiyuan were a lamb surrounded by a pack of wolves, about to be mercilessly devoured the next second.

Zhuang He rubbed his chin. “Whoa.”

Assistant Xiao Huang instantly got it. “Hehehe.”

The UN director looked thoughtful, and the daystar staff suddenly understood as well.

They exchanged a conspiratorial, knowing smile, like players solving a riddle together.

Song Mian didn’t get it, but when he lowered his head to look at the surrounded Yuan Shiyuan — helpless, pitiful, fragile — he felt inexplicably stirred, as if something inside him was about to awaken.

Zhuang He pointed at the neatly stacked photos. “Don’t you think this picture is a bit…”

“A bit what?” Song Mian asked.

“A bit lewd,” Zhuang He said.

He took Yuan Shiyuan’s photo away, leaving only Bo Jin and the others’ solo shots; the atmosphere shifted abruptly, like a group of S-rank Alphas ready to fight at any moment.

“See, you Alphas are way too macho.” He put Yuan Shiyuan’s picture back in the center. “But when he’s there, everything changes.”

Xiao Huang rubbed his hands and couldn’t help but squeal, “It feels kinda naughty — like Shiyuan might get dragged into the little dark room any minute.”

“Li-ttle dark room?!” Song Mian widened his eyes, as if a new world had opened.

The more Zhuang He looked, the more he liked it. Yuan Shiyuan’s delicacy perfectly counterbalanced the rest of Scepter’s aggressive alpha energy, making the composition extremely harmonious and forming a subtle equilibrium.

It was as if even the most unruly Alpha would become docile in his presence.

“Is this really his first shoot?” Zhou Heng said in disbelief. “He has such camera presence and expression — he doesn’t seem like a newcomer at all.”

When performers shoot, they usually need time to tune with the photographer — to find the camera feel. Yuan Shiyuan was different. He stood before the lens utterly composed, in a naturally relaxed state.

Zhuang He sighed, “So I really struck gold.”

He hadn’t misjudged him; Yuan Shiyuan was born to stand in the spotlight.

The UN director smiled. “Scepter’s daystar and Necro’s Countercurrent both release on Saturday, with preorders starting Wednesday. I was worried, but now it looks like you’ve hidden an ace — your chances are high.”

Zhuang He waved his hand modestly. “Don’t pop the champagne yet.”

At that moment, Luo Yan suddenly said, “There’s one issue. Pei Yanbing does fine shooting alone, but as soon as there are others, he gets very restrained in front of the camera. Is he not used to close contact with people?”

As Pei Yanbing’s manager, Zhuang He of course knew about his condition.

Skin hunger, also called skin starvation, is an addiction to hugging and physical contact, an above-normal craving for skin-to-skin touch.

But Pei Yanbing had severe germophobia and disliked close contact with others; he wouldn’t even touch things others had touched, which was why he often wore gloves.

“Have Shiyuan help the captain get over it,” Zhuang He said. “We’ll shoot Shiyuan and the captain together first.”

The UN brand’s jewelry comes in many varieties: chokers, bite stoppers, waist chains, bracelets, rings, tongue studs, eyebrow studs, and so on…

Assistant Xiao Huang fetched the waist chains, bite stoppers, and other accessories for the upcoming shoot, and Zhuang He gave Pei Yanbing some instructions while Yuan Shiyuan listened nearby.

“Shiyuan, I’ll leave the captain to you.” Zhuang He looked at Yuan Shiyuan with satisfaction.

Song Mian had meant to help fasten the waist chain, but Assistant Xiao Huang moved quicker and, with practiced hands, finished fastening it for Yuan Shiyuan.

The deep-red waist chain sat at Yuan Shiyuan’s waist, making his skin look even paler; the contrast of red and white struck the eye sharply. A long length of chain draped down one side, cinching his waist into a slender pinch.

The cold metal against his skin was slightly itchy, and Yuan Shiyuan moved reflexively — just enough to catch Pei Yanbing’s gaze. Pei had just put on the bite stopper: a silvery metal piece connecting to a black leather choker, fastened around the Alpha’s neck.

Yuan Shiyuan fell silent.

These new bite stoppers come in so many styles now; why do they all look like dog collars?

“Captain, stand behind Shiyuan. Shiyuan, lean on the captain.”

“Closer… a little closer!”

“Not close enough, come on, closer!”

Not close enough? Any closer and they’d be overlapping.

Yuan Shiyuan cooperated completely; he simply leaned back and almost lay in Pei Yanbing’s arms.

“Perfect! That’s it. The waist chain slid down — captain, hook it out with your hand.”

“Otherwise we can’t capture the waist chain.”

Pei Yanbing hesitated before placing his hand on Yuan Shiyuan’s waist, and then froze.

Yuan Shiyuan decisively took Pei Yanbing’s hand and pushed it under the hem of his shirt.

Surprise flushed across Pei Yanbing’s face; his pupils fragmented like breaking ice.

“I just wiped my sweat off,” Yuan Shiyuan said softly. He knew Pei Yanbing was obsessive about cleanliness; this kind of physical contact must be very uncomfortable for him. “Captain, I know it’s hard for you now, but please bear with it.”

A large palm pressed against the thinness of his abdomen — warm, delicate skin, the tiny textures pressing into Pei Yanbing’s palm; he could even feel the subtle rise and fall with each breath.

The contact sent his blood racing and his mind blank for a long moment. It took him a long time to steady his breathing.

“I’m not uncomfortable,” he said.

Bo Jin scoffed from the side, “You’re sure being very nice to the captain.”

“If you want to touch, you can touch too.” Yuan Shiyuan stayed pressed against Bo Jin and, turning slightly, lifted his shirt up.

His openness left Bo Jin at a loss for words.

“Great! Now the captain can hook out the waist chain. Just two fingers, don’t fully pull the chain out. Shiyuan, slip your hand into the captain’s collar and have the captain lower his head…”

Pei Yanbing’s fingers trembled as they stroked Yuan Shiyuan’s side; his fingertips hooked the red chain away from the snow-white waist. He could clearly feel that Yuan Shiyuan was slipping his fingers into Pei Yanbing’s collar — first the index finger, then the middle — pressing them against his Adam’s apple and gently tugging the collar down.

His Adam’s apple rolled of its own accord.

The watching Alphas felt an inexplicable tightening in their throats, as if an invisible leash had been placed around their necks and the other end was being pulled by Yuan Shiyuan.

“Captain.” Yuan Shiyuan pressed on Pei Yanbing’s Adam’s apple. “Lower your head.”

Pei Yanbing’s breath seemed to stall for a beat, then he bowed, docile.

“That’s it! Hold that.”

When Pei Yanbing lowered his head, he could see a thin strap slipping off a fragile shoulder.

One hand still hooked the waist chain at Yuan Shiyuan’s hip while the other was tugged by his collar. Taut abdomen, long straight thighs, half of Yuan Shiyuan’s body leaning against him — the scent in the hair brushed his nose and awakened an indescribable yearning.

When skin hunger flared, the familiar, suffocating craving swept over him. Pei Yanbing couldn’t pull away from Yuan Shiyuan; they needed skin against skin, to feel each other’s warmth, to fill this long-dry emptiness.

This close, they could almost feel each other’s breath. Yuan Shiyuan pressed tightly against Pei Yanbing, the waist chain rubbing red marks along the small of his back.

Yuan Shiyuan tried to shift, but Pei Yanbing mistook it for an attempt to pull away.

The moment Yuan Shiyuan leaned slightly, Pei Yanbing clamped down on his waist and forced him back. He fell face-first into Pei Yanbing’s arms; their lower abdomens were almost entirely flush, as if completely trapped within that embrace.

Even then, Yuan Shiyuan remembered the job. He rose onto his toes and tilted his head toward the camera, his pale fingers gripping the black choker while his other hand hooked over Pei Yanbing’s shoulder.

Pei Yanbing, wearing the metal bite stopper, lowered his eyes to Yuan Shiyuan’s face. His large palm pressed possessively against Yuan Shiyuan’s lower back; the skin reddened by the waist chain showed between his fingers, like a sensual caress.

Everyone watching stood frozen.

The crew raved; the S-rank Alphas a few meters away were squeezing their water bottles until they creaked.

By the time the brand representatives saw the shots: “Perfect! This set is unreal.”

The final image was unexpected, but astonishing.

The shoot had ended, yet Pei Yanbing still held tight to Yuan Shiyuan’s waist. Yuan Shiyuan assumed Pei hadn’t heard the crew, so he whispered, “Captain.”

“Hm.”

“We’re done.”

Yuan Shiyuan tilted his sunburned face up and spoke in a small voice. It was so hot that his tongue automatically licked his dry lips; sweat slid down his elegant jawline and disappeared into the shadow of his collar.

Pei Yanbing didn’t speak; his hand at the waist suddenly tightened.

A fingertip brushed the sweat-moistened curve of his side, making Yuan Shiyuan shiver slightly.

Breathing a little heavier, he murmured, “Captain, you’re making me ticklish.”

“…”

After about five or six seconds, as if coming back to himself, Pei Yanbing said, “Okay.”

Yuan Shiyuan meant for Pei to loosen his grip now. Whether from being overly engaged or something else, Pei Yanbing still had a firm hold on his waist, holding him trapped in a thoroughly possessive posture.

At another time he wouldn’t have cared—friends hug, hands grip, it’s normal. But it was the hottest hour of midsummer; they were shooting by the sea, where the sun beat down mercilessly and even the sea breeze felt like heat.

Even though Yuan Shiyuan didn’t usually sweat easily, a fine sheen covered him now.

His skin, already pale, had a light flush from the sun, spreading from the tips of his ears down his neck and into the loose collar. He smoothed his hair with a casual motion—and the scent around him suddenly spread.

The warmed scent of his body mixed with the sea air and drifted right into Pei Yanbing’s face.

Pei Yanbing started to speak, then stopped. “You… smell—”

Yuan Shiyuan glanced down at himself. “I’ve got a little sweat. Captain, you have cleanliness issues; it must be uncomfortable for you, right?”

“It’s not that.” Pei Yanbing said. “It’s pleasant.” (Note: the text contains some garbled characters here in the original.)

“Ah?” Yuan Shiyuan froze, then shrugged it off. “Maybe I rubbed against a crew member’s perfume.”

It wasn’t perfume.

This faint, almost imperceptible scent was hard to describe: not heavy, but exceptionally fresh, a delicate weave that wrapped around Pei Yanbing and exerted an undeniable pull.

The agitation from skin hunger smoothed instantly—but in the next moment, another, far stronger longing surged, multiplying fast…

He had to leave immediately.

He had to get away from Yuan Shiyuan right now.

Before Yuan Shiyuan could react, Pei Yanbing stepped away without a word, not even bothering to say goodbye.

Zhuang He knew Pei Yanbing’s condition and didn’t step forward rashly. At a time like this, it was best to let Pei Yanbing be alone.

He asked the staff to lower the dressing room temperature a bit; cooler temperatures help calm the agitation from skin hunger.

Before leaving, Pei Yanbing’s expression looked grim.

Yuan Shiyuan was thoughtful. Could it be that his sweat had triggered Pei’s cleanliness compulsion?

That must be it… Patients with severe cleanliness issues can’t tolerate close contact with others, let alone someone who’s sweating on them.

The crew rushed to offer him an umbrella and fans, but they were still a step too slow—the S-rank Alpha moved faster than they could.

Bo Jin held an umbrella over Yuan Shiyuan’s head, Ying Mingche handed him a small fan, Ying Mingxi thoughtfully brought him water… Jiang Heng watched the scene from nearby and had already tidied up the rest area in advance.

Yuan Shiyuan sat down in the shade and finally felt alive again. At that moment, he suddenly remembered the medical report.

He felt extremely relieved that it was only a “maybe,” and even more relieved that he was in the “unlikely” category among the maybes. If his bodily fluids were attractive to Alphas, wouldn’t he be doomed?

If the report were true, and he was sweaty now, wouldn’t he be a walking aphrodisiac? With so many S-rank Alphas around him, he’d be overwhelmed for sure.

After all, sweat counts as bodily fluid.

They kept looking over the photos from the shoot.

Zhuang He told the other Alphas to study them properly, and this time they obediently did. But only they knew who they were really looking at.

In the images, Yuan Shiyuan was encircled in Pei Yanbing’s arms; the contrast in their builds was stark, and the waist chain and the choker under the bite stopper created an intense visual clash. Though he’d been forced into that embrace, the way he tugged at the choker while looking into the camera, with a slight lift at the outer corner of his eye, gave off an unmistakable aura of dominance.

It was as if the finger pulling the choker was the true leader of the hunt.

After the duo shoot ended, Ying Mingche immediately stepped in to take Pei Yanbing’s earlier position, wrapping Yuan Shiyuan from behind.

His movements were expertly practiced—clearly he’d done this many times. He looked freshly interested in the deep red chain at Yuan Shiyuan’s waist and gave it a tug.

Jiang Heng flicked the fan to swat his hand away. “Stop always touching him.”

Ying Mingche hooked their fingers together and complained petulantly, “He won’t let me touch you.”

“It’s fine, we’re all good brothers,” Yuan Shiyuan said magnanimously. “If you want to touch, you can all touch.”

Besides, he also wanted to show off his abs.

Yuan Shiyuan had a well-proportioned, aesthetically pleasing lean physique—his waist was slim and tight, clearly worked on—yet the waist chain had rubbed it red and pink, and there were finger marks along his flank, like he’d been roughly handled.

Ying Mingche rested his chin on Yuan Shiyuan’s shoulder; his bony fingers lifted the waist chain and, with a teasing look, glared at Jiang Heng.

Jiang Heng walked away without hesitation.

Zhuang He reminded them, “The on-site cameras are recording, okay? Don’t say messy stuff—the footage will be edited into the group variety show later.”

“Oh.” Ying Mingche didn’t take it seriously. He tilted his head toward the camera and smiled, “I already touched him. Princess Yuanyuan’s belly is so soft; it feels really nice.”

“No need to envy me.”

Zhuang He: “……”

Yuan Shiyuan almost choked on his water.

He understood that boy bands had to sell an image and go all out, but Ying Mingche was being uncomfortably blatant—almost as if he was afraid the fans wouldn’t realize they were selling.

Footsteps approached behind him—steady, calm.

Jiang Heng slowly crouched down behind Yuan Shiyuan. “Don’t move.”

“Hmm?” Yuan Shiyuan hadn’t reacted yet when he heard the crisp sound of a clasp opening at his lower back—Jiang Heng had unclasped the waist chain for him.

The warm chain lay quietly in Jiang Heng’s palm. He said calmly, “Your skin’s too delicate; it’s uncomfortable rubbing against it.”

His fingers twitched slightly; his tone grew a little awkward. “It’s reddened.”

“Aren’t we shooting that one later?” Yuan asked.

“They said they’ll shoot a different style later,” Jiang Heng replied.

Before the words finished, Bo Jin squeezed a dollop of milky ointment onto his fingers and gently spread it over the reddened flesh.

“The last time, the care label said the same thing,” he said. “You’re being too delicate.”

Ying Mingche pinched Yuan Shiyuan’s cheek, the pad of his finger pressing into the soft flesh and making a tender curve. “So sensitive.”

Yuan Shiyuan waved it off, “It’ll fade in a bit anyway.”

He simply sat there, tended to by a group of S-rank Alphas.

Ying Mingche displeasedly said, “The captain is something else—he keeps grabbing your waist. Has he gotten addicted to it?”

Yuan Shiyuan: “No, the captain’s just cooperating with the shoot.”

Bo Jin sneered, “Does the shoot really require so much force?”

Even the usually mild-mannered Ying Mingxi spoke gently now, “It was a bit rough. Shiyuan, does it hurt?”

Yuan Shiyuan: “It’s okay, I guess?”

He truly didn’t feel much.

Yuan Shiyuan’s skin was simply very fair; any small mark showed up starkly. After all, he was an Alpha—he wasn’t that fragile and didn’t think Pei Yanbing had been especially rough.

But when he looked down, he froze.

There was a clear finger mark on the taut, slim side of his waist—one that Pei Yanbing had just left.

For a moment Yuan Shiyuan didn’t know whether to blame Pei Yanbing for being too rough or to blame his own skin for being too delicate to withstand it.

After roughly ten minutes of rest, the staff gradually came out from the shade into the sunlight and began tidying equipment and the set.

Pei Yanbing still hadn’t returned.

The other Alphas showed no concern; they were completely indifferent to Pei Yanbing’s current condition. The more elite the Alpha, the stronger their territorial instincts—S-rank Alphas acted like lone lead wolves and didn’t care about the state of other groups.

Yuan Shiyuan, however, couldn’t be that plastic.

Just for the fact that Pei Yanbing had been willing to lend him the practice room, Yuan Shiyuan had already thought the man decent—cold outside, warm inside. When someone treated him well, he returned the favor; it was his principle of social reciprocity.

More importantly, Pei Yanbing had looked unwell when he left. What if he’d gotten heatstroke or something had gone wrong?

Even if he wasn’t a friend—just a stranger passing by—Yuan Shiyuan couldn’t ignore it.

He rose. “I’ll go check on the captain.”

Ying Mingche immediately followed. “I’ll go too.”

As Ying Mingche fell into step, he didn’t forget to loop an arm around Yuan Shiyuan’s shoulders.

In that moment, Yuan Shiyuan could clearly feel many eyes on him—ABO of every gender. Their shared feeling: envy and jealousy, and a frustrated longing to take his place.

Bo Jin, still seated, tugged the corner of his mouth slightly—what a clingy little lapdog.

The always-open dressing room was suddenly locked. Yuan Shiyuan knocked and got a closed-door response, then tried the handle—no answer.

Yuan Shiyuan found it odd. “Wasn’t the dressing room supposed to stay unlocked?”

The dressing room wasn’t just for the artists to change; it held many props and had staff coming and going—locking it would just slow work down.

“Maybe the staff locked it,” Ying Mingche dismissed the concern. “Why worry about the captain? He’s always like this. He’s not a kid—if something happened he’d say. If he’s not saying anything, then it’s fine.”

“That’s not how it is,” Yuan Shiyuan said. “We’re a team—we should look out for one another. The captain doesn’t like to talk; even if he’s uncomfortable, he’ll probably tough it out.”

Ying Mingche suddenly looked at Yuan Shiyuan with a very strange expression.

Before Yuan Shiyuan could turn, Ying pressed a hand to his shoulder and pinned him against the door.

“You really know him, then.”

“We’re a team; we do need to understand each other and build rapport. That’s how we grow,” Yuan replied.

“Is that all?”

“What else?”

“Then pay more attention to me, too.” Ying Mingche propped his elbow above Yuan’s shoulder and leaned down. “Build some rapport with me.”

“You know I’m naughty—I need someone to manage me.”

Yuan Shiyuan was baffled.

An S-rank Alpha was like an unruly wolf; he wasn’t a trainer. And anyway, managing Ying Mingche wasn’t really Yuan’s job, was it?

A staff member nearby called out, “Mingche, we need a close-up shot—come over.”

Ying Mingche answered, then lowered his head and said in a petulant voice, “I have to go first.”

“Why tell me? I didn’t ask.”

“Can’t I just say it?”

Ying left in a sulk. Yuan Shiyuan was genuinely cold—he didn’t even say “bye.”

“Did I tell you to go?”

At the sound, Ying Mingche—like a dog called back—immediately ran back. “What’s up? Do you have something to tell me?”

“Bring me a bottle of mineral water. Not chilled,” Yuan said. “Just leave it on the table; I’ll come by later.”

Ying Mingche ground his teeth. All this fuss for that? Was he Yuan’s servant?!

“Fine. Just water?” he asked, looking down. “What about fruit?”

“No need.”

“Okay. If you haven’t found the captain, hurry back—team photos are next.”

The next shoot was the group shot—Pei Yanbing should definitely be found for that.

Yuan Shiyuan considered asking staff for a key.

Passing crew members turned to look at him, and some came forward to ask if he needed help.

Inside the room, just a door away, Pei Yanbing heard the conversation clearly.

Through the thin door, a faint fragrance seeped through the crack, winding around his nerves like a spider’s web.

After a brief flush of satisfaction came an even stronger hollow ache.

Doctors had once suggested he try to form normal social connections, even if it was as simple as a hug. But his cleanliness obsession was severe—he recoiled from everyone’s touch and refused even to handle objects another person had touched.

Until he met Yuan Shiyuan.

All the defenses he had erected were being dismantled, his self-control being eaten away bit by bit.

Yuan Shiyuan stood just outside the door; if he opened it, Pei could pull him in. His jacket was casually hanging on the chair back ahead, saturated with his scent.

The skin-hunger reaction was stronger than it had ever been.

The doctor’s words echoed in his head. If he followed that advice and genuinely tried to build a friendship with Yuan Shiyuan, would Yuan be willing?

That thought had only just risen when it was mercilessly snuffed out.

Pei Yanbing thought wryly that he was dull and boring—he couldn’t even find topics to talk about… who would want to be friends with someone like him?

Even if Yuan agreed out of politeness, it would likely be because of his captain’s status.

And that would treat the symptom, not the cause. Even if they did become friends and had normal social contact, what if he became addicted to it? What if the situation worsened and he could no longer be satisfied with a friend’s hand or a hug and couldn’t control his desire for more?

Does he really have to strip Yuan Shiyuan naked and rub himself all over him like a dog?

Just imagining that image made Pei Yanbing’s fingers start trembling uncontrollably.

Another voice whispered in his ear.

Why not? Why put up with this suffering? You are the captain. Yuan Shiyuan is so gentle and obedient—if you asked him to help and take off his clothes, he’d surely agree.

He would grant any request you made.

Pei Yanbing looked at the jacket within arm’s reach. Through the door he could clearly see the exchange between Yuan Shiyuan and the staff and sank into an endless struggle.

The world rapidly drained of color until only cold black and white remained.

The doctors had warned repeatedly, “Long-term repression only leads to a violent rebound. When that happens, ordinary physical contact won’t satisfy you—you’ll crave deeper contact…”

“Like sex addiction.”

Pei Yanbing’s fingertips curled and trembled. At last he took the jacket off the chair and buried his burning face deep in it.

The thin fabric soothed his agitation for a moment, but he quickly realized—

It wasn’t enough…

Far from enough.

Yuan Shiyuan had just received the dressing-room key and was about to insert it into the lock when Ying Mingxi called from behind, “Shiyuan?”

He turned instinctively, and at that moment there was a click as the door opened from the inside.

A large hand reached out of the darkness and, with an irresistible force, yanked him in.

Immediately after came the sound of the lock closing.

In the sealed darkness, the air was almost solid with cold pheromones, like an airtight net. Yuan Shiyuan could tell by scent alone that the person was the one he had been looking for.

“Shiyuan? Are you and the captain in there?” Ying Mingxi’s voice accompanied by knocking sounded again; receiving no answer, his tone grew noticeably anxious.

Just as Yuan Shiyuan was about to reply, Pei Yanbing’s hand covered his mouth, silencing him.

Ying Mingxi’s knocking became more urgent, the door trembling and making Yuan Shiyuan’s back tingle, while in front of him were Pei Yanbing’s hot, chaotic breaths.

In the dark, Yuan Shiyuan finally saw Pei Yanbing’s face clearly.

Pei Yanbing’s expression had become completely unfamiliar—not the cold restraint of his usual self, but a dark, near-unstoppable intensity, charged with an aggressive determination.