"Hello, what's up?"

"Matthew, are you busy?" On the other end of the line, Charles Bennett's voice carried a gentle warmth, as if checking in on him.

Unsolicited kindness, unless... they're family or close!

Matthew Clark instantly became alert, grabbing a doujinshi and flipping through it noisily, his voice equally gentle,

"Busy as hell."

"......"

The person on the other end seemed to choke for a moment, then continued in an even more polite and warm tone, "Can you spare a moment for me? Here's the thing, your place is near F University, right? You're still living alone, aren't you?"

Matthew Clark, "Yeah, what's up?"

Charles Bennett said, "My eldest nephew has sports training near your place. Would it be convenient for him to stay at your place for a while?"

Snap! He let go of the book, and it closed with a thud.

On the cover, thorns intertwined, the title: [Rose Paradise—Forbidden].

Matthew Clark paused for a moment, "How old is your nephew?"

"Uh, very old?"

"......" No wonder his Chinese grades were so bad back then.

Charles Bennett was still trying to persuade him, "Don't worry, he won't cause you any trouble, he's just coming over to sleep. It's just that the short-term rentals nearby are all in bad condition—we'll pay you rent, is that okay?"

Just coming over to sleep...

Matthew Clark thought it over. His place was pretty spacious, and there was a spare bedroom.

"Forget the rent. Can he do housework?"

He'd been so absorbed in work and manga that he hadn't cleaned the place in ages.

The voice on the other end instantly shot up, "He can, he can! Anyone with hands and feet can do it!"

Matthew Clark, who also had hands and feet: ......

Who is he insulting here?

"Then let him come over."

"Really!? Thanks, Matthew, I'll treat you to a meal next time." Charles Bennett rattled off his words like lightning, and before hanging up, he made a solemn promise:

"Don't worry, Little James is very capable!"

"......"

After hanging up, Matthew Clark glanced around:

The floor and desk were still piled with all sorts of BL manga and doujinshi. He didn't mind when he was alone, but if someone else saw...

No, that won't do.

A huge wave of embarrassment instantly washed over him.

After a moment, he slowly bent down and began sealing off this area that outsiders should never set foot in.

-

Charles Bennett sent a message saying the person would arrive this weekend.

It was his sister's son, named James Bennett. Outstanding in both academics and looks since childhood, this time he was coming to F University for sports training.

The room was already tidied up.

Because James Bennett was coming, all of Matthew Clark's manga had been temporarily packed away. With nothing to do in the study, he simply sprawled out on the living room sofa.

Saturday afternoon, the sunlight was mellow.

Sunlight lazily climbed over his soft bangs, warming the sofa into a cozy spot.

Matthew Clark rolled over on the sofa, burying his head in the pillow:

The manga he read in the morning had just reached its climax.

Will they confess next?

Will there be a [beep—] and then a [beep—beep—]? Come to think of it, he really liked the top in that story—tall, handsome, a bit domineering.

The size difference was just so cute...

His mind was wandering aimlessly when the doorbell finally rang at the entrance.

Matthew Clark's thoughts paused: Is he here?

He got up, patted his outer shirt, composed himself, and walked to the door, pressing down on the handle.

The door opened.

Golden-red light streamed in through the crack, and the tall figure standing outside came into view—

Matthew Clark's pupils contracted, instantly wide awake.

...So when Charles Bennett said "very old," he meant physically!

The person in front had thick black brows, lowered lashes, a straight nose, and thin lips. Probably because he was an athlete, his build was firm and smooth, a single-shoulder bag slung casually over one shoulder.

There was a laid-back air, but also a sense of good upbringing.

"Hello."

Matthew Clark let out a barely noticeable breath, "Yeah, you're Little James, right? Your uncle already told me about you. Come on in."

He reached out to help with the suitcase behind him.

James Bennett had already picked up his luggage with one hand and entered, bending down to change his shoes. "I can do it myself." Once the door closed and the light dimmed, his features became even clearer than before.

No awkwardness, no forced politeness.

Much more composed and mature than Matthew Clark had imagined.

...He even calmly straightened the shoes Matthew Clark had kicked askew when opening the door, and put them back in the shoe cabinet.

Matthew Clark glanced over, "It's fine, you don't have to bother with that."

James Bennett closed the shoe cabinet and stood up, his voice cool, "Uncle said, since we're not paying, I'm here to be a workhorse."

Matthew Clark: ...............

What on earth had Charles Bennett been telling him?

He opened his mouth, then closed it, and finally swallowed back dozens of retorts, keeping his usual expression as he led James Bennett toward the living room.

"Come on, I'll show you around the place."

"Okay."

James Bennett lifted his eyes to look at the figure ahead.

Upright posture, calm and gentle, almost perfectly fitting the image of an "ideal adult."

He quietly withdrew his gaze.

Up ahead, the "perfect adult" Matthew Clark was doing his best to casually lead him past the study door.