CYNTM CHAPTER 85

Hunter led Winston to the spot where he, Blu, and a few other young men regularly practiced street dance.

The area was an open space near a neighborhood basketball court, where a handful of young men were shooting hoops. Blu had set up a boombox and waved excitedly when he spotted Hunter.

“Great! You’re here! I thought you were going to bail on me!”

“How could that be!”

“Why couldn’t it be? We’ve got the competition tomorrow, and you only have this afternoon to catch up with us! Don’t drag us down!” As Blu turned his head, he noticed Winston following behind Hunter.

Winston was dressed in a casual jacket, his long, straight legs accentuated by his jeans. One hand was tucked in his pocket, and his expression was indifferent.

“Is that… is that Vann Winston from the Ferrari team?” Blu was stunned.

Hunter grinned and smugly draped an arm over Winston’s shoulder. “What do you think? I brought Winston along to be our audience!”

“Oh my god! Since when did you start hugging Winston’s thigh?¹ Hugging someone’s thigh means riding on someone’s coattails. I had to keep this literal as it’ll be used in a joke later. This is unreal!”

“Huh?” Hunter cocked his head. “Me, hugging Winston’s thigh?”

“It’s just a figure of speech! Don’t get mad, bro! I’m just too excited to think straight!”

“That’s a terrible figure of speech!” Hunter snorted unhappily.

Their other teammates gathered around, already pulling out their phones, eager to get pictures with Winston.

Hunter sighed, “Hey, just because Winston and I know each other doesn’t mean you guys should be so rude. I’m a racer too, you know. How come none of you ever ask for my picture?”

“I’ve seen you my whole life; I’m tired of it! Why would we need a picture?” Blu replied mercilessly.

Hunter rolled his eyes.

“Alright, guys, time’s ticking. I can’t practice alone!”

With Hunter’s reminder, everyone turned back to the practice area. He gave Winston a quick nod.

“Watch this! I may not have beaten you on the track yet, but this is definitely my strong suit!”

Rhythmic music started to play. Hunter first stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Winston, watching as Blu and the others went through their choreographed routine.

Some of the teens playing basketball wandered over, and a few passersby stopped to watch as well.

Blu demonstrated some moves requiring upper body strength, and Hunter watched with his hands on his hips, squinting in concentration.

The choreography emphasized not just rhythm but also hip-swinging moves that showcased both masculine strength and sexiness.

One move had Blu turning his head to the side, lowering it, and sliding his hand down his waist—he pulled it off with impressive flair.

As the music ended, Blu raised an eyebrow and looked over at Hunter.

“Hey, did you catch all that?”

“Most of it. A few more rounds with you guys, and I’ll be good,” Hunter replied.

“Haha, it’s embarrassing to dance with Winston watching!” Blu said half-jokingly.

“No need to be embarrassed; you all did well,” Winston replied in a flat tone.

“Hey, are you an old professor? ‘You all did well,’” Hunter deliberately mimicked Winston’s voice.

“Whether you do well or not, I don’t know,” Winston responded.

“Just watch.”

Hunter’s fill-in position was diagonally behind Blu. He had a sharp sense of rhythm, and as soon as the music restarted, he fell perfectly in sync with the others.

When they moved into a one-handed handstand, Hunter joined in smoothly, flipping upside down as his legs swung in a graceful arc. His T-shirt fell back, momentarily exposing his toned waist.

Next came the hip-swaying move. Hunter spun with everyone else, his hair catching a ray of sunlight. As the fast-paced music softened and stretched into a slower rhythm, he lowered his head and, like the others, slid his hands down his waist. With his face turned slightly to the side, his exposed neck showed a hint of innocence, while the sway of his hips caught the attention of a few girls on the sidewalk, who pulled out their phones.

“Ah! So sexy!”

“He’s both cute and sexy!”

After several rounds, Hunter walked over to Winston, holding a bottle of water in one hand and hooking a finger into the collar of his T-shirt. When he bent down to sit, Winston got a clear view of his collarbones.

“Isn’t this boring to watch? It’s just the same thing over and over,” Hunter asked.

His palms were sweaty, and he’d been struggling to twist the cap off.

“Not at all.” Winston reached over, took the bottle, and twisted it open with ease.

“Ah, thanks!” Hunter tilted his head back, water spilling into his mouth with a gulp. Some escaped past his lips, tracing a line down his chin and dripping off. His throat moved as he swallowed, his eyes half-closed, droplets clinging to his lashes.

After drinking most of the bottle, Hunter looked up to see Winston still watching him.

“Is… is something wrong with me?”

“No, nothing. Your dancing looks great.”

“Ha! If you say it’s good, then it must be. But be honest—who dances better, me or Blu, that peacock?” Hunter’s eyes seemed to be twinkling with stars, eager for Winston’s response.

“Blu.”

Winston’s answer made Blu laugh out loud.

“Winston’s fair! No favoritism!”

Hunter rolled his eyes.

After an entire afternoon of practice, Hunter lifted the hem of his T-shirt to wipe the sweat from his face.

His abs, taut but not overly defined, showed briefly before the shirt fell back down. Swinging his water bottle, he walked over to Winston.

“A-ha! Finally, we can head back! I’ll treat you to a feast tonight!”

“Mm.”

“Hey, aren’t you curious about what I’m treating you to?”

“Didn’t you say it was a feast?”

“…You’re no fun.”

Hunter took half a step forward, but Winston suddenly caught his wrist, stopping him.

Turning around, Hunter met Winston’s gaze.

“Am I really no fun?”

Hunter froze, surprised that Winston actually cared about his offhand comment.

This was Vann Winston, after all!

“You’re definitely not the ‘fun type.’ But if you were all witty and quick to joke with me, then you wouldn’t be Vann Winston. I like that you’re ‘no fun.’” Hunter laughed, glancing down at Winston’s fingers wrapped around his wrist. A mischievous smile crept onto his face. “Actually, when you helped me open that water bottle earlier, I thought…”

“Thought what?”

“That your fingers are really nice to look at!”

At Hunter’s words, Winston’s fingers gave a slight tremor before he let go of his wrist.

“Let’s go!”

Hunter led Winston to a small restaurant. As soon as they sat down, Hunter eagerly started ordering, even selecting Winston’s meal for him.

“I’ll order for you. Is that okay?”

“No problem.”

“Yeah! I pick the best dishes!” Hunter grinned, his eyes squinting.

The setting sun bathed Winston’s face across the table, softening his eyes and casting warmth on his nose.

“Hey, if you ever go on a date with someone you like, make sure to choose a table by the window.”

“Why?”

“Because you look really good in bright places.” Hunter smiled.

Winston’s fingers, which had been arranging the tableware, paused briefly.

After dinner, the streetlights flickered on, and New York’s nightlife buzzed with its usual energy.

“Ah… Sometimes, looking up at all these city lights makes me feel a little lonely.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Maybe it’s because I’ve always been on my own. Back when I started kart racing, I did it to make my dad proud. He always told me I’d make it to Formula 1 one day. But by the time I got there, he was gone.”

“I’ll be watching you,” Winston said.

“Really?”

“Of course.”

“Then wait for me at the next turn. It won’t be long, trust me.”

Hunter looked at Winston with an unusual determination in his eyes.

“Alright.”

“Come on, let’s head back!”

That night, Winston and Hunter lay on Hunter’s bed in his apartment, talking about track features and racing lines well past 1 AM.

Hunter found that, although Winston didn’t say much, his words always cut right to the core, explaining complex concepts in simple, clear terms that Hunter could understand right away.

Perhaps it was the night, but Winston’s voice seemed softer than usual, almost gentle. Hunter rolled over, inching a little closer, and soon his breathing slowed into a steady rhythm.

Winston looked at him and murmured softly, “Hunter.”

Hunter didn’t respond.

His foot had pushed the quilt down to Winston’s thighs. Winston propped up his upper body and carefully pulled the blanket back over him.

As his fingers brushed Hunter’s waist, his shirt lifted slightly, revealing the outline of his side.

After tucking in the blanket, Winston turned his back to Hunter and closed his eyes.

The next morning, Hunter’s phone alarm went off, but he showed no intention of getting up.

Winston was already awake. He placed a hand on Hunter’s shoulder and gave him a shake.

“Hunter, time to get up.”

“Mmm…hmm…” Hunter murmured, curling up and hugging the quilt to his chest.

Without further attempts to wake him, Winston went to the bathroom to freshen up.

A few minutes later, he returned to find Hunter still sound asleep.

“Hunter, you have the street dance competition today.”

Hunter continued to snore softly, as though he hadn’t heard.

Winston rested one hand by Hunter’s pillow and slipped his other hand under the quilt.

All that could be heard was Hunter letting out a loud wail.

“Ow! You’re crushing my waist!”

“Awake now?”

“Yes! I’m awake!” Hunter’s eyes were misty with tears. “If you break my waist, I won’t be able to compete!”

“It won’t break,” Winston replied.

“…You’re such a bad guy!”

“Do you want yesterday’s entire afternoon of practice to go to waste?”

“No!”

“Then get up.”

“Fine!”

Hunter threw off the quilt, rubbing his waist as he made his way to the bathroom.

Thanks to Winston’s urging, Hunter arrived at the competition on time.

Their group was third from last to perform, and the previous teams had set a high bar, stirring the crowd into excited cheers.

“I’m so nervous, Hunter… You’re not gonna hold us back, right?” Blu asked, sounding uncertain.

“You’re the one who’s gonna hold us back!”

As Hunter walked out with Blu and the others, he spotted Winston in the audience. This guy stood out even in a crowd.

Hunter flashed him a peace sign.

“You know, I bet Winston’s thinking right now, ‘This guy is such an idiot,’” Blu scoffed lightly.

“Yeah, but apparently, this team still needs this ‘idiot.’”

As the beat of the music began, Blu opened with a complex move that had the audience gasping and clapping. Then, all five of them executed a one-handed handstand together, perfectly synchronized and full of power.

They took home the championship title in the street dance competition.

But when it was time to divide the prize money, Hunter was taken aback.

“What? Only 20,000 dollars? That’s only four thousand each! My plane ticket!” Hunter felt utterly drained.

“Hey! Four thousand isn’t bad! We trained hard for a month and had to work out the choreography. You only practiced for an afternoon!”

“Can I help it if I’m a genius?” Hunter grinned mischievously.

Before Blu could throw a punch, Hunter was already running over to Winston.

“Hey, Winston! Look at my winnings! Let’s go out and celebrate tonight!”

“Where do you want to go?” Winston asked.

Hunter looked at Winston’s serious expression and suddenly felt a mischievous urge. Placing a hand on Winston’s shoulder, he leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Let’s go see a strip show.”

He expected Winston to react differently, maybe even refuse, but to his surprise, Winston replied, “Sure.”

“Sure?” Hunter gaped at him. “Wait… do you actually enjoy striptease?”

“No, I’m just curious to see how low your taste really goes.”

Winston strode forward with his long legs, while Hunter felt his heart pounding.

“The dancers probably won’t be able to keep going if they see you.”

“Why’s that?”

“Too cold.”

“Was that supposed to be a joke?”

“No, it could very well become reality.”

Since he was going with Winston, Hunter decided to choose a respectable place.

“Hey, all this money you make—what do you even spend it on?” Hunter sat in the car, having a chat with Winston.

“Investments.”

“What kind of investments?”

“Funds, shares in different companies… things like that.”

“Okay, I don’t understand a word of that. But wouldn’t it be cool if you invested in a bar or a club or something?” Hunter gave a wistful look.

“Why?”

“So you could give me a VIP card and I could get in free! That’s the dream!” Hunter looked as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

“And bunny girls, I assume?”

“Yep, bunny girls too!”

“I’ll consider it.”

“Huh? You’re actually considering it?”

“Weren’t you serious when you suggested it?”

---

The author has something to say:

Winston: You once told me you like me sitting in bright places. I like it when you do too.

Hunter: Thanks!

Winston: You said you wanted a club and bar VIP? I’ll arrange that as well.

Hunter: You’re the best!

Winston: And a bunny girl party, too.

Hunter: I love you!

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  Hugging someone’s thigh means riding on someone’s coattails. I had to keep this literal as it’ll be used in a joke later.