The Alpha Married the Tallest Omega novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: Eye Level

Rongan goes to the study to say no, asks why instead, and ends up lifting Wenzhou onto the desk and kissing him, until Wenzhou breaks it with a dry line and Madam Ji's lantern appears at the moon gate.

The study in the second courtyard had a lamp lit and the door open.

Rongan stood on the threshold at eleven exactly, in the grey suit his brother's tailor had let out.

He ducked under the lintel out of habit.

Wenzhou sat behind a black desk in his shirtsleeves, writing, with his glasses pushed up on his forehead.

"Close the door, Captain."

Rongan closed it.

The room smelled of ink and cold tea, and under that of something clean and sharp.

It was Wenzhou's scent. Rongan had never smelled it in a crowd.

"I came to say no," he said.

"Say it, then."

Rongan opened his mouth.

All evening he had known how it would go.

He would say it was a mistake, and that he did not need rescuing from a joke.

What came out was, "Why?"

"Because I wanted to." Wenzhou capped his pen. "The rest I'll explain when it becomes useful. I don't lie, Captain. I do postpone."

"That isn't an answer."

"It's the one I have tonight." He pushed his chair back. "May I talk to you at a better height?"

He crossed to the bookshelves and took the two-step library stool.

He set it in front of Rongan and climbed up.

It wobbled. He stood on the top step with one hand on the shelf, his face level with Rongan's, completely serious.

"Terms," he said. "One. Nothing before the ninth night. My mother's house, my mother's custom, and I would like to be married first."

"Agreed."

"Two. I will not be lifted where people can see."

Rongan blinked. "Lifted?"

"You will want to. Everyone who stands beside you wants to find out if you can."

Wenzhou's mouth moved, very slightly.

"In private I have no rule."

"Mine," said Rongan.

"Name it."

"Don't pity me. And don't laugh at me with them."

"I don't laugh," said Wenzhou. "I've been told it's a flaw."

The stool shifted under him.

He put out a hand to steady himself, and the hand landed flat on Rongan's chest.

It stayed there. Rongan felt the heat of it through his shirt, in the exact middle of his ribs.

He did not decide anything.

His hands came up, took Wenzhou by the waist, and lifted him off the stool.

He set him on the edge of the desk.

Wenzhou's knees parted around his hips to make room.

They were eye to eye now, closer than the stool had allowed, and neither of them spoke.

"Rule one," said Wenzhou, quietly.

"There's nobody here."

"No." Wenzhou took the glasses off his forehead and laid them on the blotter. "There isn't."

He put his palm against Rongan's jaw and kissed him.

It was not tentative. His mouth was warm and sure, and every part of it was placed on purpose.

Rongan's lips opened. A low sound came out of his chest that he had not meant to make.

Wenzhou's other hand slid under the hem of the borrowed jacket and around his ribs.

His fingers found the scar over the left shoulder blade and followed it from end to end.

"A beam," Rongan said against his mouth. "Long Pier."

"It's a long one." Wenzhou kissed his jaw, then the corner of his mouth.

Rongan's hands tightened on his waist.

He pulled Wenzhou to the edge of the desk, hard, so that their bodies met.

Something stiff pressed against Wenzhou's knee. Rongan knew what it was, and so did Wenzhou.

"That's the tea," said Rongan, hoarse. "It's strong tea."

"Of course it is."

Wenzhou's voice was uneven too.

He tipped his forehead against Rongan's collarbone, which was as high as he could reach, and stayed there.

Then he raised his head and said in his driest tone, "Put me down, Captain. The chairman isn't to be handled until the ninth night."

Rongan stared at him.

"You started it," he said.

"I stood on a stool. You made it a desk."

Rongan lifted him off the desk and stood him on the floor, and his hands were not entirely steady about it.

Wenzhou straightened his waistcoat and put his glasses back on.

He looked up, composed and perfectly neat. The only sign of anything was his collar, which was crooked.

"Go to bed," he said. "Good night."

"Good night, Mr. Ji."

Rongan walked out and shut the door.

He got halfway across the courtyard before he stopped and put the heel of his hand against his mouth.

A paper screen slid open beside the moon gate.

Madam Ji stood behind it in a grey silk robe, her silver pin in her hair at midnight, a lantern in her hand.

"The guest wing is on the left, Captain Qi," she said. "Mind the step."

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