CHAPTER 62: IT’S JUST A “DREAM”

Joshua paused momentarily, mumbling, "You teased me first..." That’s why I blurted out and called you a princess...

But before Joshua could finish, Luther flicked his forehead. Joshua covered his head, his whole body going limp as he fell backward.

Luther couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic reaction. "Once we debut, you can still switch to acting."

As he spoke, he reached out to pull Joshua back up. Joshua blinked at him. "You’re not mad?"

"Best friend privileges," Luther said, declaring that Joshua would be the only one allowed to call him that—it was a special nickname.

Joshua pushed him away and picked up the bottle of nail polish. "Give me your hand."

Luther obediently held it out. His hand was large and pale, yet the skin on his palm was rough, the joints prominent, and the veins winding across like tangled cords.

Lowering his gaze, Luther watched Joshua hold his hand. Unlike his, Joshua’s hand looked ridiculously small—like a hamster holding onto him, Luther thought with exaggerated amusement.

Joshua had no idea what was going through Luther’s head. He was entirely focused on painting the nails without letting the polish spill over the edges, his tongue poking out slightly as he instinctively licked his lips.

Suddenly, his cheek was pinched. Luther’s voice came softly: "Don’t lick your lips."

Joshua frowned. "Don’t touch me, or I’m leaving right now."

Luther looked at Joshua’s serious little face and couldn’t help but laugh. He said nothing, only reached out to ruffle Joshua’s soft hair gently.

Joshua, who was concentrating on painting, didn’t pay him any attention.

But Luther, once he started teasing, couldn’t stop. Joshua’s hair was so soft, so fluffy. He knew that as long as he did it gently, Joshua wouldn’t really mind—but knowing that only made him want to mess it up more, to make Joshua mad.

They were best friends, after all. So that was normal... or so Luther told himself.

Just then, Joshua suddenly flinched, almost jumping as he looked up. The nail brush left a dark streak across Luther’s finger.

Luther blinked, finally realizing what had happened. Seeing Joshua clutching his ear, he panicked. "I didn’t mean to—are you okay?"

Nine’s voice roared: [Luther really is an idiot! What kind of best friends touch each other’s ears like that?!]

Nine could feel the strange tension radiating from Luther. At this point, he genuinely didn’t want Joshua to stay close to him anymore—it felt as if he wasn’t careful, Luther would swallow Joshua whole.

Right now, it is evident that Joshua had the best impression of Luther—and if Luther harbored any ill intentions, that would be a disaster!

At this point, Nine truly felt like a worried parent, constantly on edge as if someone was about to kidnap his beloved child.

Just then, the door suddenly burst open. Henry and Justin walked in at the same time.

Justin bounced cheerfully into the room, grinning at Joshua. "Joshua, I bought snow peach soda—your favorite flavor!"

He paused, then blinked. "Oh? What are you two doing?"

He wasn’t surprised to find Joshua sitting on Luther’s bed.

Joshua exhaled softly and looked at him. "Painting nails. Do you want yours done too?"

"For the concept?"

Joshua nodded. Justin scratched the back of his head, asking, "Will you paint mine for me?"

Joshua couldn’t help but feel a little confused. Why did everyone want him to paint their nails?

Still, it wasn’t a big deal—and Joshua actually enjoyed doing it—so he nodded.

Justin immediately beamed and hopped over, crouching down and offering his hand. "Then I’ll leave it to you."

Luther frowned. "Joshua hasn’t finished mine yet."

Joshua gave him a side glance. "Go wait."

Luther wanted to protest but, remembering what had just happened, decided not to push his luck—he didn’t want Joshua actually to get mad.

Henry noticed Joshua’s ears were still faintly red, then glanced at Luther. Saying nothing, he quietly stacked his things on the bedside shelf, grabbed his clothes, and entered the bathroom.

By the time he came out, Joshua had finished Luther’s and Justin’s nails.

Justin raised his hand and exclaimed loudly, "Joshua, this is amazing! You’re seriously a pro—didn’t even go over the edges once!"

Joshua felt like Justin was praising a kid, yet he couldn’t help but feel a little proud. His chin tilted slightly, lips curved into a smile, eyes narrowing with satisfaction.

Luther tapped him lightly on the forehead and laughed to Justin. "Stop complimenting him, or Joshua’s gonna float right up to the sky."

Joshua frowned. "You’re the one who’s floating."

Then he got off the bed, bumping right into Henry. He grabbed Henry’s hand without hesitation and said, "You too—come here."

Henry clearly hadn’t expected Joshua to grab him so directly. His usually expressionless face froze momentarily, his whole body stiff as he allowed Joshua to arrange him however he pleased.

Joshua wasn’t afraid of Henry anymore—his attitude and behavior were completely different from before. It almost felt like they’d always been this close.

Henry’s face looked as cold and gloomy as ever, yet he obediently sat still, letting Joshua do whatever he wanted. His dark eyes fixed intently on Joshua, reflecting no light, as though he didn’t even blink.

Joshua finished painting nine of Henry’s nails and left the pinky finger for last. He drew a tiny rabbit head on it, then admired his work, secretly chuckling to himself. Still, to match the group’s concept, he sighed and began painting over it in black.

Just then, Henry suddenly pulled his hand back and stood up. "I forgot something at the supermarket," he said flatly.

Before Joshua could say anything, Henry had already walked out, his ten fingers spread carefully so the wet polish wouldn’t touch anything.

Joshua lifted his hand slightly, but before he could call out, the door had already closed.

Well, whatever. Henry could repaint it when he got back.

Thinking that, Joshua placed the nail polish bottle on Henry’s bedside shelf.

A cool touch brushed against his cheek. "Joshua, are you okay? Your face’s been red this whole time."

A little surprised, Joshua accepted the soda can and touched his face—it was indeed hot. Pressing his lips together, he murmured, "It’s fine, probably just from overtraining lately."

Justin didn’t press further.

But Nine spoke in a low, almost wary tone: [I feel like you’re acting strange lately... restless.]

Joshua didn’t think much of it. He climbed into bed and went straight to sleep, remembering to remind Henry to repaint his pinky nail later.

That night felt unusually short. Joshua dreamt—a strange dream, hazy and hot. His heart was pounding so fast, his whole body felt feverish. Something... something made him feel both pleasure and discomfort at once...

Joshua’s eyes flew open. His body jerked slightly, his gaze dazed. He felt like he was covered in sweat—sticky, heavy, and strangely weak.

But soon he noticed something else. He blinked, instinctively ducking under the blanket, glancing down—then quickly resurfaced, eyes wide, blinking rapidly. The sticky warmth and hardness down there were definitely not his imagination!

At that moment, Nine’s calm voice echoed: [Don’t panic. You just had a wet dream.]

Joshua pressed his lips together, opening his mouth slightly, but no words came out.

[Wait—don’t tell me this is your first time having one?]

Joshua fell silent.

He might not have "eaten pork," but he’d certainly seen a pig run. He’d never skipped a biology class, so he knew this was a normal physical reaction during puberty.

But still... still, this was his first time experiencing it!

Jo—who had always secretly suspected something was wrong "down there"—shua was now utterly, helplessly bewildered!