Against Heimo's incessant nagging, Lu Yizhou forced himself to sit up and the blanket slid down his back, revealing his toned abdominal muscles and trousers which hung low on his hips. Heimo's angry protest died down his throat at the provocative sight. Even when the man's complexion was poor, his hair messy with sleep and torso wrapped in thick, ugly bandage, he was still the most beautiful man Heimo had ever seen.
It was made worse by the flickering candle, its orange glow licked on his skin that was faintly covered by a layer of sweat and each of his movements made his muscles rippled deliciously. Heimo had been trying not to think about it since he — innocently — stripped Lu Yizhou down to tend to his wounds and he managed, somehow, because he had been too distressed by the hole on his back.
