Moon Theory (ABO)Ch80 - solving, personal problems

“—Colonel Yang, do you copy?”

The shower valve is turned on. Water streams from the showerhead down to a mop of dark black hair, continuing to drip to collarbone and further. The warm water adds a healthier glow to Yang Rong’s caramel skin and faded scars – even in the dark, his body is outlined attractively. Deep contours and prominent muscles developed from nearly two decades of training – indeed, the alpha is top class. K7pbSg

Yang Rong, however, looks worse for wear. The tips of his ears are flushed, the color visible even without a proper light source; his left shoulder is more sagged than usual, the raw bullet wound pelted by continuous gallons of water. Blood had stopped running from it long ago and yet, the colonel makes no move to wipe it dry. He is, quite simply, distracted.

Mixed with the unpleasant scent of some years-old, foul-smelling military soap is Yang Rong’s own heavy musk. Half an hour in the shower and still, he is throbbing in arousal, unable to be satiated. Eyes lidded low, his teeth biting his lips, his one hand pumping his shaft. Methodically, he works up and down – and he does know the places to touch, the most pleasurable spots. It is only unfortunate that his mind craves for something more.

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Yang Rong struggles with unspeakable thoughts for another five minutes before he finishes with a husky grunt, ejaculating thickly onto the wall and the faucet below. Before he could breathe a low sigh of relief, he feels another pang in his head and another dreaded spur of arousal.

“…Fuck,” he rasps out, wincing at the subtle pain – there isn’t as much pain as there is a harrowing discomfort. He breathes out lowly and turns off the shower valve, hoping the sensation would fade. He wraps himself haphazardly with a towel and steps out. qZfKsV

“—Colonel Yang Rong,” comes the sound of the transceiver that he’s completely ignored. The device is discarded along with his battered clothes and thrown in the far corner of the washroom. “Report your whereabouts, Colonel Yang Rong of Unit One. I repeat, Colonel Yang Rong, Command has issued for you to report your—”

The person is cut off when Yang Rong displaces the battery.

He leaves the device by the sink – or was it by the bench, though he hardly cares to recall before he walks out. Yang Rong, fully naked sans the towel on his lower hip (that leaves very little to the imagination) goes in a hurry, scaling down the hallway and into the living room. His lips are pursed, and his movements are increasingly frantic – agitated, almost, when he nearly rips open the cabinet door apart.

He’s breathing heavily when he rummages through packets of medicine, filtering out dozens but not exactly reading any of them. Truth be told, Yang Rong hasn’t the slightest idea what he’s looking for. Only, if he doesn’t quell the heat currently coursing through his system, it wouldn’t end well – not for him, nor for the sleeping young man next door.

Yang Rong’s senses are sharpened tenfold. He can hear each soft breath that Noah takes, each small shuffle as he moves while plagued by a nightmare (and Yang Rong, in complication, wants to hold him soothingly, though rationale denotes he should with certainty keep his distance). Soon, despite himself, he is focusing more on the low whines and whimpers the other lets out and fuck – no matter how hard he tries to will it away, his erection is springing up again in full vigor.

It helps zero percent that Noah’s pheromones are strong enough to seep through the walls – the incredibly thin, flimsy cheap walls that Yang Rong has half a mind to yell at the military for. A base as important as this one, a base by a hub of supply stations, cannot even be constructed properly. He sighs. Miscellaneous are much welcomed if only to distract than anything else.

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He rummages through the cabinet some more and then in sudden epiphany, he takes out an empty syringe. There was a certain drug, he could recall, that Noah had brought back from the gene bank prior to its destruction – and if his (debilitated) memory is correct, then there may be some remedy if he just injects it up his veins. Unfortunately, he does need to make a trip to the bedroom where Noah is exuding enough pheromones to incapacitate him. He sighs again.

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“Yang Rong, I’m warning you…” He refers to himself in third person while fully experiencing a spiritual misalignment, muttering as he grabs a clear bottle from the bedstand. “If you do anything more, he’d strangle you and mutilate your dead body—possibly toss you into the oceans where no one could see, definitely turn you into sushi. Considering an Arctic fox’s diet, he just may cannibalize—”

His mind conjures up an image of Noah’s half-hybrid state – fluffed ears, alluring pupils, small fangs that could barely prick through skin. His body responds readily and Yang Rong, struck with yet another unsatiable crave, makes the most strangled noise thus far. He is well aware he should not be having such lethal thoughts – physiology, however, controls him to a mind-numbing degree.

In his distortion, Yang Rong stumbles backward and nearly spills the entire bottle of liquid. His hands tremble as he fills the syringe and then in sudden hastiness, he stabs the device up his arm, plunging it so deeply he might have ruptured a vein.

There is a foreign pulsation coursing through – both adrenaline and pain, some chills as his body tries to fight off whatever injected drug. The symptoms crash in abnormally quick and Yang Rong grits his teeth, steadying himself with one hand on the nightstand. The syringe clatters onto the floor alongside a multitude of uncapped pill bottles. EVuwDs

Cold sweat forms on his forehead and Yang Rong is, simply, impaired. There is stringent ringing in his ears that is accompanied by a low buzz – then, when he closes his eyes to stabilize, he can finally hear a low crackling sound. It comes from a small handset placed on the table.

Noah’s handset, though it had long been disregarded.

A clear male voice emits alongside several high-pitched beeps, tuning in mid-sentence. Rather, Yang Rong tunes in mid-sentence, his senses dulled beyond function. The person speaks with an airy quality – clear and crisp despite the botched frequency. “…Turned off your device?”

Then comes several seconds of silence before the person tries again. “Xie Xing… Noah, I am worried about you. I do not have foul intentions. I only want to ascertain your safety.” Cl7W4a

Yang Rong takes a while to identify the speaker as his half-sibling. With a shuddering exhale, he leans against the adjacent wall and closes his eyes. Belatedly, Yang Rong thinks he’s never had this rough of a time – the pain he could handle, but the rapid waves of dizziness do terribly for his waning consciousness. The drug is downright debilitating, and it takes all of his singular half-functioning braincell to respond.

His voice is coarse and deprived, dripping with more than a hint of arousal. “Yeah?”

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Shi Luo could be heard sighing – of course, the doctor is intelligent enough to infer from just his voice alone. Yang Rong has little doubt the other could pinpoint every detail of what’s transpired if only given a subtle innuendo. The doctor asks anyway, “Yang Rong, what is the situation?”

“Good question,” he says – or tries to say, except his syllables end up ten times raspier and cracked. He coughs before continuing, “A series of events had occurred, but to simplify my current situation – I have a hard-on, am potentially going into rut, and Noah is unconscious and in heat right in front of me.” aCxOpm

“…” The doctor replies a very long moment later – though to clarify, it was a mere five seconds, but five seconds of ponder to Shi Luo is five whole minutes for any average person. “It hardly explains why your speech is akin to that of a dying whale’s, Colonel Yang—or, is that still your designated title?”

“I’ve been potentially dismissed after an unexplained absence,” Yang Rong says. “I didn’t quite have the time to hand in a resignation letter.”

“I see,” Shi Luo responds knowingly. “Then Yang Rong, you should well be aware that the military will come looking. What of your current location?”

“District 39’s base,” he replies with his eyes still closed. “I am aware, Shi Luo, though I am experiencing too many complications to care.” 6QZrWe

“It isn’t just you they are looking—rather, hunting—for.”

“I know.” Droplets of water trickle down from his bangs. More beads of sweat have accumulated by his strong collarbones, his skin glistening in candlelight. When Yang Rong looks down at his crotch again, he breathes a low sigh of relief. “Like I said, I am aware. I will take Noah and leave the district within the next hour. After I solve some personal problems.”

“…Your rut?” the man asks with a frown – Yang Rong can’t see him, but he can visibly imagine the frown anyway. “It will be a problem, Yang Rong, for you to be in the same vicinity as he. A miracle you are still conscious, but I must warn you to stay away. Should any mishappenings occur—by that, I refer to accidental impregnation or a potential genomics error—the possibility of an unusual, defective birth is high. Not to mention, Noah’s radioactive levels do not correlate with yours. Of course, this is mere speculation considering there is no predecessor. Hypothesizing cell rearrangement or misarrangement, some repercussions could be—”

“Yet more scientific spiel I cannot understand,” Yang Rong cuts him off before rigmarole. “There will be no escalation. My rut has been taken care of for the time being.” GMDd4

Shi Luo probably raises a brow. “Taken care of? If I recall correctly, taking into consideration the times you’ve contacted me mid-fornication, your ruts last an average of five days.”

He doesn’t answer the question. Instead, Yang Rong raises his head to look at the young man deep asleep on the bed. Unfocused green eyes trail over Noah’s figure. Yang Rong’s vision has long been compromised – the furniture around has deformed into strange inkblots, the bedframe swaying in motion, and everything, including the floor tiles, is a chaotic swirl of black and red. Even in daze, however, Yang Rong has long memorized Noah’s appearance.

Every dip of his features, every mole on his body is not disregarded in Yang Rong’s mental image. If given a second more, he just may pinpoint the exact distance from one mole to the next, in millimeters – the details are, admittedly, perverse. Noah is slightly curled in his sleep, his cheek smushed rather cutely against the pillow. The flush on his face and his body is never-fading. Peeking out from his loose white shirt are patches of reddened hickeys. Yang Rong is once again reminded of just how many marks he’d left while unaware.

Inwardly, he spews several curses. cDofC5

Uncharacteristically timidly, he asks through the microphone, “Scientifically… is it possible to alter my alpha physiology…? Turn me into a beta?”

“…” Shi Luo answers slowly, “Take a rest in my laboratory and I’d be sure to reconnect your brain circuits, Yang Rong. If you are asking a serious question, then the scientific response would be impossible—at least, in modern research. Sex alterations are indeed possible, but secondary genders are as innate as your bone structure. Such rearrangements are undoable in our generation.”

“…I do know that as well,” Yang Rong says with a low cough. The benzodiazepine is hitting him so hard he could barely think – hence, he begins to utter the strangest, most nonsensical things. The next he knows, he’s practically dialing in for therapy, his words coming out rasped and strained, his complexion way more ashen than normal. “…Shi Luo.”

And he sounds the most unsure he’d ever been. Indeed, he may be pathetic like this – conked out from drugs as he leans against the wall, staring at a sleeping young man from a distance away, committing Noah’s pain-stricken face into memory. Belatedly, he wonders when he’d gotten so attached. 49Yf6p

“Shi Luo,” he says again. “What should I do?”