Beneath the Surface

Part 24

Yok sat still, his entire body tense, his fingers twitching against the fabric of his jeans. Longtai’s voice had gone quiet now, his story unraveling in shaky, uneven breaths. Each word had cut through Yok like a blade, leaving wounds that burned with anger.

Ren had hurt Longtai. He had broken him. He had taken something soft and beautiful and crushed it in his hands.

Yok clenched his fists, feeling his nails dig into his palms. His chest felt tight, his heartbeat a furious pounding in his ears. He wanted to find Ren. He wanted to make him pay.

But then—Longtai let out a soft, trembling sob. And Yok’s anger froze.

Longtai sat there, his head bowed, tears slipping down his pale cheeks. His whole body looked so small, so fragile. Like he had spent years curling into himself to keep from breaking apart completely.

Yok moved before he could think.

He wrapped his arms around Longtai, pulling him close, holding him so tightly it was as if he could shield him from everything, from everyone. His heart raced as he buried his face in Longtai’s shoulder, his own eyes stinging with unshed tears.

“I swear,” Yok whispered, voice raw, “I will never hurt you. And I won’t let anyone else hurt you ever again.”

Longtai shuddered in his arms, his fingers gripping at the back of Yok’s shirt, as if grounding himself in his warmth.

And it was good he couldn’t see Yok’s face.

Because Yok was furious.

His hand clenched into a fist behind Longtai’s back, his jaw tight, his entire body coiled with rage. If Ren were in front of him right now, Yok wasn’t sure he could hold himself back. No—he knew he wouldn’t.

The thought of Longtai suffering, of crying himself to sleep, of believing he deserved what had happened—Yok wanted to destroy the person who had done this to him.

But not now.

Not when Longtai needed this.

Needed him.

Slowly, carefully, Yok pulled back, his hands gentle as they cupped Longtai’s face. His thumbs brushed away the tears trailing down his cheeks. He looked at him—not with pity, but with something deeper, something stronger.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “For telling me.”

Longtai blinked up at him, eyes still damp, still wary. But he nodded.

Yok let out a slow breath, forcing down the fire burning in his chest.

Because right now, Longtai needed tenderness, not rage.

And Yok would give him everything.

Yok’s hands remained on Longtai’s face, his thumbs brushing against tear-streaked skin as he leaned in, pressing a warm kiss to his forehead.

The soft contact made Longtai’s breath hitch, his fingers instinctively curling into the fabric of Yok’s shirt. His body, once trembling, began to settle as Yok moved lower, his lips ghosting over the tear tracks on his cheeks, wiping them away with each lingering kiss.