Against the Algorithm

Chapter 34: When Want Becomes Intention

He didn't blink. Just nodded once, casual and steady. "You can ask me anything."

Her lips pressed together, and then she set her tea down, as if she needed both hands free to brace herself for the shame of speaking. "I've just... read some things. And Jinyang and Ai Jia—they talk really openly about stuff sometimes, and I just..." Her voice trailed off, mortified.

Sicheng turned his body slightly, giving her the kind of patient attention he usually reserved for pre-match strats and explaining frame timings. "What kind of things, Xiǎo Tùzǐ?"

The way she flushed, red blooming from the tips of her ears to the hollow of her throat, had his interest piqued—especially when she buried her face briefly into her palm before forcing herself to meet his gaze. "Things people are... into. In relationships. Things they like. I just... I wanted to know what you like."

He didn't tease her. Not yet. Not when she looked like she might dive off the couch if he so much as smirked the wrong way. Instead, he took another sip of tea and set the cup down, his voice even and grounded, but not without warmth. "That's a fair question. I'm glad you asked."

She blinked, clearly caught off-guard by how calmly he answered.

"As for me?" He stretched out a bit, fingers drumming lightly against the porcelain. "I'm not into being called Baba or Master in the bedroom. At all. Had a partner once who was deep into the BDSM scene. Tried the whole dynamic." His mouth twisted, faintly. "Didn't like it. Felt like I needed to rinse my ears out every time one of those words came up. It's not me. Never was." He caught the flicker of something in her eyes—relief. Unmistakable. Like she'd been holding her breath, and now she could finally exhale. "You don't have to worry about that," he added, his voice dipping slightly, reassuring. "That's not how I see you. That's not what this is."

Yao nodded, still visibly flustered but not as tense, her fingers curling slightly into the fabric of her hoodie.

And then—

He tilted his head just slightly, his mouth curving with a far-too-knowing smirk. "But you do have some interesting reactions when I call you good girl ."

The reaction was instantaneous.

She turned bright red, made a panicked squeaking noise, and immediately grabbed the nearest pillow, smacking it into her face with enough force to nearly knock her tea off the table. "You weren't supposed to notice that." she groaned from behind the pillow.

Sicheng chuckled low in his chest, the sound lazy and warm, pleased. "Hard not to when you look like someone lit your nerves on fire."

"Cheng-ge," she whined, voice muffled.

"What?" he said smoothly. "I think it's adorable." She tried to burrow further into the couch, clearly wishing for the earth to swallow her whole, but his fingers found hers under the pillow and gave a gentle squeeze, grounding and warm. "I like what we're building," he added quietly. "And I like figuring it out with you . We move at your pace, always." Even if, from the way her ears were still glowing, teasing her might just become his new favorite sport.

Yao's voice was soft—nearly a whisper—as she finally peeked out from behind the pillow, her flushed cheeks betraying just how flustered she was, despite her best attempts to maintain some thread of composure. "I'm... I'm really glad you don't like that kind of stuff..." she murmured, eyes dipping again. "Because I honestly don't think I even have a pain threshold. I don't want to be spanked, or tied up, or have pain introduced into anything." Her ears were pink to the tips, her hands twisting nervously in the fabric of the pillow, and though the words were said in a quiet, embarrassed rush, they were honest. Vulnerable. Raw in a way that only came when she trusted someone deeply enough to let them hear those parts of her.