The hotel’s blackout curtains were top-tier; not a shred of light from outside could penetrate the room. In the dim room, a rustling sound began. Waking up, Fu Cunyuan groped for his phone and checked the time—it wasn’t even 7:00 AM yet.
Lu Mang was sleeping soundly, curled up in his arms. This man was a very “good” sleeper; once he found a comfortable position, he basically didn’t move, nor did he snore or make any other sounds. Fu Cunyuan watched for a while and couldn’t resist leaning down to kiss the sleeping person on the cheek.
Lu Mang was completely unaware. This was a weakness of Omegas—low energy, easy fatigue, and once asleep, they are very hard to wake. However, in an Alpha’s eyes, this was quite cute. Fu Cunyuan pressed his head into the hollow between Lu Mang’s neck and shoulder, his nose brushing against the soft skin as he inhaled.
For Alphas and Omegas, pheromones could convey many subtle, hidden emotions and meanings, and this transmission couldn’t lie. Although the gland mark he left on Lu Mang was still there, the inability to smell his partner’s pheromones still made Fu Cunyuan a bit anxious.
The nerves in his brain suddenly twitched twice, as if provoked by something. Holding the person he had longed for for three years in his arms, anyone would find it hard to resist. Fu Cunyuan was no exception. His palm slipped under the pajamas, expertly stroking the warm skin inch by inch. Friction caused their bodies to heat up, and a slight sweat seeped out in the messy, stifling air under the duvet, sticking the two of them—already close—even tighter together.
Lu Mang moved slightly, as if feeling hot in his sleep and wanting to leave his arms. Fu Cunyuan paused, letting Lu Mang roll over to lie flat, while he took the opportunity to press down on top of him, leaning over to kiss his Adam’s apple. His hand gripping the other’s waist pushed the hem of the shirt up.
The duvet submerged him. His vision sank into the stifling darkness. Fu Cunyuan could see nothing and could not smell the pheromones suppressed by medication; he could only rely on the touch of his hands and the temperature and tremors felt when his lips landed to judge his lover’s feelings.
He opened his mouth, taking the soft flesh between his teeth and holding it. The original softness soon gained a hint of swelling. The person trapped in sleep arched his back, yet still couldn’t escape the teasing of the tongue and lips. The airtight nature of the duvet made Fu Cunyuan’s excited brain begin to lack oxygen, and his reason became blurred. Driven by instinct, he suddenly clenched his teeth and bit down.
The person beneath him abruptly tensed his body and let out an ambiguous gasp. But in the next moment, a pair of hands groped inside the duvet to stroke Fu Cunyuan’s shoulders, passing over his neck and tenderly cradling his head.
Fu Cunyuan froze, then let go with his mouth, rising from the duvet to look at Lu Mang. Lu Mang’s eyes were still tightly closed, his brow slightly furrowed, and his breathing had grown rapid.
“Baby?” Fu Cunyuan whispered against Lu Mang’s lips. No response.
But this only caused the wicked desire deep in Fu Cunyuan’s heart to become even more unrestrained. He leaned down to kiss Lu Mang, reaching out to pin one of his legs down, spreading it open before lowering his hips.
The period before the season started was originally the best time for indulgence, but plans couldn’t keep up with changes. The early training dominated their free time, and whenever it involved racing, Lu Mang was exceptionally serious and focused. Four days a week, he would go to the training center for Midnight Neon’s morning tracks, and after returning, he had to do physical training—it made Fu Cunyuan almost too embarrassed to voice his desires. To the point where sometimes when Fu Cunyuan remembered his heat, he regretted not taking the chance to go further.
Almost all of his body weight was pressed down. Through the thin fabric of the pajamas, the temperature and pleasure generated by the friction of their bodies whipped his spine like an electric current. To avoid waking the other person, Fu Cunyuan’s voice was restrained to the limit. The heavy breaths born of pleasure became rolling vibrations in his throat, and trembling puffs of breath from his nose. As the heatwave of desire rose, he couldn’t help but squint his eyes, his gaze going blank as his consciousness sank into a moment of primal bliss.
When Lu Mang woke up, he felt a bit dazed. The person beside him was nowhere to be seen. The sound of a shower came from the bathroom. A sticky, slippery sensation had soaked through his underwear.
He stared blankly at the pillow Fu Cunyuan had slept on for a good while, then pulled back the duvet to look down, before promptly closing his eyes again. Three seconds later, Lu Mang—still feeling it wasn’t enough—used his hands to roll up the sides of the pillow and completely covered his face.
The faint scent of Alpha pheromones drifted into his nose. He remembered he had been dreaming before he woke up. A damp, lingering dream. Everything he felt in the dream was exceptionally real. The searing hands moving over his body, the falling kisses tracing his curves, the weight of their entangled bodies pinning him so he couldn’t move… that itch of unsatisfied desire remained in his nerves even after waking, even gnawing at his heart. Even just the memory seemed to cause the desire to rise from the ashes.
“The end of the year… that seems a bit far away,” Lu Mang thought to himself, feeling his cheeks grow hot.
The routine of training remained unchanged. Under Fu Cunyuan’s supervision, Lu Mang spent every day conditioning his body according to medical advice, while Midnight Neon successfully passed the Jockey Club’s re-evaluation without further incident before the first race of the new season.
……
Lu Mang pushed open the door to the jockeys’ room, bag in hand. That day was Midnight Neon’s first race of the season. He had arrived early, and while the room was mostly empty, he spotted a familiar figure. The blonde man saw him too, waving enthusiastically as they made eye contact before greeting him in English with a distinct Australian accent: “Hey, long time no see”.
Although Hong Kong had specialized jockey schools, the industry’s start was later than in Europe and America. Combined with a training system that required significant time and resources—often with less than ideal results—many large stables and owners preferred overseas jockeys who had developed their careers in Hong Kong. These foreign jockeys often possessed more racing experience and mature riding techniques, leading to better pay and access to superior horse resources compared to local jockeys. For example, before Chasing Moon, every horse named Hong Kong Horse of the Year was ridden by a foreign jockey.
Barton, a foreign jockey who settled in Hong Kong sixteen years ago, had earned countless honors at Sha Tin Racecourse and multiple victories in overseas races. He was indisputably one of the most senior and top-tier jockeys in Hong Kong.
“Long time no see,” Lu Mang said with a nod. “How many races are you riding today?” Barton was notoriously hardworking; as a top jockey, he never lacked invitations but would still ride in local class races when there were no major Group 1 events.
“Six races,” Barton said, suddenly winking with a smile. “And I’m in one of them with you”. When Lu Mang rode Chasing Moon to the Horse of the Year title, his biggest competitor had been Barton and the horse he primarily rode. The two were frequently compared, with outsiders often speculating about a tense relationship. In reality, Barton was very friendly and approachable, and Lu Mang was not the type to be bothered by such rumors, so they often chatted in private.
“Is that so? It really has been a while”. During their conversation, Lu Mang habitually walked to his locker to store his bag and change into his riding gear and silks.
“I watched your races from the first half of the year,” Barton mentioned, seemingly casually. “It’s been two years; it looks like your riding style has changed? You didn’t used to rely so much on your lower body for riding”. Lu Mang’s hand paused almost imperceptibly for half a second before he replied calmly, “The horse is different now; you have to find a more suitable way to ride”. He opened his locker but froze the next second. Inside was a single rose and an energy bar.
Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152