HIS PHEROMONE SMELLS LIKE CATNIP chapter 50.2

Part 2

He was a bit shocked. He was also belatedly starting to feel hungry. He hadn’t eaten all day.

Bai He pulled out his phone and ordered two meals for delivery to the dorm. When selecting the food, he made a point to order a meal beneficial for an alpha’s body, then ordered an omega set meal for himself.

Bai He never thought he’d be the type to pay attention to separate menus, but…

He thought about it. Qin Yao had already… twice today. He definitely needed to replenish his energy.

After ordering the food, Bai He waited on the bed for a while. He figured Qin Yao would be out any minute. But it wasn’t until the delivery arrived that Qin Yao finally emerged from the bathroom. A full fifty-four minutes. What on earth had he been doing in there?!

Bai He put the takeout on the dining table. Qin Yao walked over, wearing a bathrobe Bai He had found for him, the belt tied loosely, looking completely disheveled.

“Why order takeout? I could have gone out to buy something.” Qin Yao gently touched Bai He’s earlobe.

Bai He unpacked the food, sparing a glance for Qin Yao. “I was afraid I’d starve to death by the time you finally came out.”

“That hungry?” Qin Yao sat down across from him and opened his own container. He immediately noticed all the ingredients meant to nourish an alpha. He narrowed his eyes, the corners lifting as he peered at Bai He.

Silence speaks volumes. Bai He kept his head down, picking up a piece of meat and putting it in his mouth. But he couldn’t stand Qin Yao’s heated, amused gaze any longer. He put down his chopsticks. “It’s to help you replenish. Twice in one day, and for that long… be careful you don’t wear yourself out.”

Hearing this, Qin Yao’s smile turned suggestive. He propped his chin on his hand. “You think twice in one day is a lot?”

Bai He: “…?”

It’s not?

His face was a picture of confusion; this was clearly a blind spot in his knowledge. His bewildered expression just made Qin Yao laugh again.

The laughter was warm, but his words were laced with teasing. “Besides, I was only in there for half an hour. You call that long?”

Bai He was lost again. He frowned, stating firmly, “I don’t know how long you were in there the first time, but this second time was fifty-four minutes. That’s practically an hour! What on earth were you doing in there?”

Qin Yao looked at Bai He’s serious face, his shoulders shaking as he held back his laughter. He blinked, looking innocent. “Baby, you can’t expect a normal, adult male alpha who’s crazy about you to only last… half an hour.”

He lowered his voice, “Darling, that’s just not enough for me. I have to work hard for our future happiness, you know.”

It took Bai He a long moment to process that. His face instantly flushed crimson. He shot out a hand, pressed down on Qin Yao’s head, and growled through gritted teeth, “Just. Eat.”

“Yes, baby~”

They ate the meal in comfortable silence. Afterward, Qin Yao packed up the containers and took them out to the trash. When he returned, he was carrying a large bag of fruit of all kinds.

Bai He was sitting at his computer, looking at something from the club leader. Qin Yao sat beside him, peeling an apple and cutting it into slices to feed to Bai He.

Qin Yao, a surprisingly good apple-peeler, fed him the apple slices and then moved on to the dragon fruit. He happened to glance at Bai He’s computer screen, which was displaying the Tiandi game interface. His expression immediately froze. “Is that an internal account for Tiandi?”

Bai He, his mouth full of apple, mumbled an “Mm,” not noticing the rapidly changing expression on the alpha’s face.

After a long moment, Qin Yao handed Bai He a slice of dragon fruit, asking casually, “Little Bai He, you like Tiandi?”

Bai He neither nodded nor shook his head.

“That internal account is hard to get. You must have gone through a lot of trouble for it.”

Bai He finally detected the sour note in his tone and turned from the screen to look at Qin Yao. “What’s wrong?”

Qin Yao pressed his lips together, staring at Bai He resentfully. “Can’t you play Xingchen instead?”

Bai He: ?

He looked at Qin Yao, thinking for a moment. “Qin Yao, are you in charge of FREE?”

“Yeah,” Qin Yao answered glumly. “I am.”

“Xingchen is from FREE?” Bai He asked.

Qin Yao nodded. “That’s right.”

“…” Bai He paused, then stated the obvious, “So, you’re jealous?”

Qin Yao ground his teeth. “Yes, I am. Can’t you just not play Tiandi? Is Xingchen not good enough in some way?”

Bai He calmly met Qin Yao’s gaze and squinted. “Xingchen is very good. But I prefer Tiandi.”

“Baby, you…” Qin Yao frowned, suddenly serious. He reached out and felt Bai He’s forehead, skeptical. “You’re not running a fever. Why are you talking nonsense?”

Bai He: “…”

“You don’t think Tiandi is any good?” Bai He asked.

“We’re in the same industry. To be honest, that Tiandi game…” Qin Yao thought for a moment, finally finding the right description, “It builds up huge expectations, but the execution falls flat.”

Bai He thought for a moment, ignoring Qin Yao’s bias, and asked, “Then what do you think is the biggest problem with Tiandi?”

“It has a lot of problems, but the biggest one is the writing,” Qin Yao said, leaning back in his chair. When it came to his area of expertise, his face took on a new seriousness. “Undeniably, many gamers care about the feel, the smoothness, the combat experience. But the writing invisibly transmits values to the player. If the core values of the story are flawed, it not only risks backlash from the public, but it could very likely get shut down by the government.”

Bai He nodded, then asked, “Have you played Tiandi?

Qin Yao looked baffled. “Why would I play that garbage?”

“…”

Bai He rephrased, “As competitors, shouldn’t you always be monitoring the other’s development?”

“You think Tiandi can even compare to Xingchen?” Qin Yao scoffed, propping his chin on his hand. “Baby, our company has every confidence we can crush Tiandi.”

Bai He said no more. He understood. Qin Yao was confident, and rightly so—Xingchen was, in fact, incredibly strong.

Returning his attention to the screen, Bai He clicked into the game. The scene changed, and he familiarized himself with the keyboard, controlling the character to run around the map for a while.

As the plot advanced, he had to listen to Qin Yao scoffing at his side no less than ten times.

Bai He knew the scoff was directed at the game. Qin Yao’s jealousy was potent, but he still didn’t forget to feed Bai He fruit slices while he played.

It was getting late. Bai He exited the game. His notebook beside him was filled with feelings and issues he’d noted. As he closed it, he noticed Qin Yao’s gaze lingering on the notebook.

Bai He paused, then reached up and gently plucked a stray cat hair from Qin Yao’s neck, his expression calm. “I don’t like Tiandi. It’s for my club.”

Qin Yao stiffened, staring at Bai He. “You’re in the game planning club?”

Bai He nodded. “Mm.”

“Why did you join a club?” Qin Yao asked. “Because you needed the credits? Bai He, if you hadn’t transferred schools, you wouldn’t be so busy. I—”

Bai He pressed his fingers against Qin Yao’s lips, stopping him. “Transferring was inevitable. As an omega, I couldn’t have hidden it forever. Besides, I never really liked political science.”

“Is it also because you were angry at me?” Qin Yao grasped Bai He’s hand, his eyes filled with sorrow.

“I was. I was furious with you back then.” Bai He looked at Qin Yao. “You even made me doubt myself—whether I actually liked you at all.”

“Qin Yao, I know better than you whether or not this is because of pheromones.” Bai He spoke deliberately. “Because I’ve experienced what it’s like to not have them. My feelings come from me, and they have nothing to do with pheromones.”

Coming from a world of only two genders, ‘like’ could only be something genuine, from the heart. That was the confidence his first twenty-odd years of life without pheromones had given him.

“I’m sorry…” Qin Yao pulled Bai He into a tight hug, burying his head in the crook of Bai He’s neck and nuzzling him.

Bai He gave a wry smile. “I haven’t completely forgiven you yet. I’ll be watching how you behave from now on.”

Qin Yao suddenly froze. He pushed himself up to stare closely into Bai He’s eyes. “So what are we now?”

Bai He raised an eyebrow. “What do you think we are?”

There was a faint, teasing smile on his face. Qin Yao stared, observing him for a long moment before realizing Bai He was messing with him. In a rare show of flustered annoyance, Qin Yao captured his lips in a kiss, lingering and possessive. When he finally pulled back, he wrapped his arms tightly around Bai He.

“I’m your cat, and I’m your boyfriend. Bai He, you’re stuck with me for life!”

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