Deep in the Act
First Published on Chaleuria
Chapter 15.1 (NSFW)
There was a faint glow in the darkness, red and golden. His temples throbbed steadily with the pulse of a pounding heart. The residual pleasure of spent desire lingered in his lower body as exhaustion seeped into his muscles and bones. Murmurs echoed in his ears: You like that? Feels good? Over and over again, he was assailed by that familiar voice – a voice so sexy, so tantalizing that it made his entire body weak with tingles… Open your eyes and take a damn good look at me! Who am I?
Zhang Zhun sat up abruptly in bed. It seemed like it was already past noon. Groggy from his hangover, he held a hand to his head and felt around for his phone in a daze. As he fumbled around on the bed, he noticed the messy sheets twisted around his body and the way his underwear was slipping off his hips. All of a sudden, a memory stirred in his mind. He froze.
He seemed to feel the heat of Chen Hsin’s breath on the tip of his nose again, and his misty eyes widened as his teeth began to chatter. They…they had clung to each other like a man and a woman in the throes of passion. Locked their tongues together in kisses. Drenched themselves in sweat as their nipples tightened in unison. Melded their groins together as they rutted shamelessly, mindlessly against each other… Zhang Zhun slapped himself. Hard. Yet, even as his face stung from the blow, his body continued to tremble with sensation. He could no longer tell whether it was real or merely a part of his dream. Out of the blue, a vivid image surfaced in his mind: Chen Hsin, grabbing his ass and sucking him off.
Zhang Zhun clamped a hand over his mouth in disbelief. It was a dream, for sure. It had to be. There was no way Chen Hsin would ever do something like that: he would never forego his pride to give head to another man. Zhang Zhun relaxed a little at the thought. But he was soon overwhelmed by an even greater sense of dread. A new awareness loomed over him like a heavy storm cloud: why would he dream of such a thing?
He combed through his memories of the previous night: arriving late at the party, chugging down drinks on demand, exchanging cross-cupped drinks with Chen Hsin, and then a song:
We draw close, but the distance between us cannot be closed
Or perhaps I should believe this is how things are destined to be…
All the joints on his fingers were trembling now. “That’s not possible…” he said to himself, but it was Chen Hsin’s voice that resounded in his ears – a lazy drawl colored with playful arrogance:
“What’s the point of all this small talk? The way I see it, we should just get straight to business. Try a kiss and see how it feels.”
“Let’s give it a go?”
“I chose you.”
“How else should we go about it? We’re not really gay, after all.”
“Yeah I want to get into Zhang Zhun’s pants. So what?”
“Sorry… I’m sorry…”
“You wouldn’t let me help you, but you’re okay with accepting that kid’s help?”
“You like that? Feels good?”
“Open your eyes and take a damn good look at me! Who am I?”
Tears began to well up. They pooled precariously in the corners of his widened eyes, threatening to spill at the slightest tremor in his body. Zhang Zhun gnawed on a finger as he struggled to keep his tears in check. He saw Chen Hsin crouching over his groin again – his tongue licking in circles, and his mouth stretched into a perfect O as he swallowed. He recalled the press of firm, supple flesh against the hole at his tip as he ground against the roof of Chen Hsin’s mouth. His ears echoed with the sound of loud, wet slurps. Every wild, obscene detail was so vivid and real… Zhang Zhun collapsed onto the bed as realization hit him: he had been fantasizing about such things all along. An uncontrollable resentment rose within him – he could not help hating it all: the film, the porn flicks they watched, and Chen Hsin.
Yet, in spite of himself, he was hard again. His swollen member strained against the fabric of his underwear, burning and aching with need. Crushing his legs together, Zhang Zhun curled up on the bed. He lay still for a while. Then, he reached between his legs in despair and wrapped his fingers around his hardness the way Chen Hsin did in his dream. Mimicking Chen Hsin’s touch, he began stroking up and down his length.
“Ah… ahh…” Electric pleasure ripped through him in a way that he had never experienced before with Xie Danyi. He writhed and ground against the bed, tortured by the excruciating thrill gripping his body. It was so intense he wished he could die. Images of Chen Hsin flooded his mind: Chen Hsin’s face, his tousled hair, his soulful eyes, his stubbled chin in the morning, his lips, his hands, his husky voice roughened by his smoking habit: Zhang Zhun… you like that? Feels good?
“Good… so good…” Zhang Zhun admitted, tears streaming down his face as his hand rubbed relentlessly along his length, unable to stop even though he was already sore. Just then, the doorbell rang. It rang several times before someone started banging on the door. Covering his head with his sheets, Zhang Zhun moaned into the stifling darkness. He imagined Chen Hsin watching him in the dark, staring at his shamelessly pumping hand. Then ‘Chen Hsin’ lowered his head and stuck out his tongue.
His phone began ringing next; it was probably Xiao-Deng. Zhang Zhun knew that his assistant would have no qualms asking the hotel staff to open the room if he became too distressed. The thought kindled a new fear within Zhang Zhun – an anxious fear that fused with the perverse pleasure coursing through his body to stoke his arousal even further. His excitement hit a feverish pitch. His mind went blank, and his spine seemed to have broken into bits as he hummed Chen Hsin’s name softly into his sheets.
Suddenly, without any warning, his back tensed into an arch and he came all over his bed. His toes curled tightly into the sheets as violent convulsions tore through the muscles in his ass. Gasping for air like a desperate fish out of water, he ground hard against his bed until every inch of his skin reddened from the friction. Then, riding out the afterglow of his climax, he breathed out Chen Hsin’s name and savored the sound of those syllables with care, over and over again.
Finally, with a shaking hand, Zhang Zhun reached for his phone. It was indeed Xiao-Deng who had been calling him. He returned the call, and Xiao-Deng sounded worried sick as he answered it, “Ge! Are you alright?”
“I’m fine…” Zhang Zhun lowered his voice, fearing that his breathing would give him away, “I drank too much last night.”
“Oh,” Xiao-Deng replied, still sounding a little concerned. “Go upstairs to eat something, then. We’re visiting the new filming location today, and the director and Chen-laoshi are waiting for you to get ready.”
Zhang Zhun ended the call. Putting down his phone, he climbed out of bed to shower and get dressed. His outfit for the day, provided by the costume department, was hanging in his closet. Clipped to the hanger was a slip of paper marked with the date and his name. The ensemble consisted of a band collar shirt and a cerulean blue 6×2 suit – double vent, with peak lapels and closed quarters. He put them on and prepared to leave. As he turned around, his eyes fell on the sticky mess on his bed and the stain it had made on his sheets. With an air of dejection, he yanked the sheets off his bed and shoved them into the laundry basket alongside his clothes from the previous night that still reeked of alcohol.
After that, he met up with Xiao-Deng and they went up to the top floor for lunch together. Almost immediately after they stepped out of the elevator on the top floor, they ran into Chen Hsin as he was coming out of the restaurant. He had already finished his lunch. Standing in the corridor, face to face with Zhang Zhun and Xiao-Deng, Chen Hsin began to panic like a rabbit stricken with fear. Although he seemed composed on the outside, his palms were already drenched with sweat. He did not sleep a wink last night. Like so many others before him, he regretted everything he did the moment he pulled up his pants.
Zhang Zhun, on the other hand, reacted oddly upon seeing Chen Hsin: he took a half-step backwards and blushed. Instantly, every inch of his skin from his face to the very tips of his fingers turned into a deep crimson. His long lashes fluttered over his eyes, casting light, wispy shadows over his reddened skin – and Chen Hsin could not help but recall how Zhang Zhun had looked and felt in his arms last night.
Just as Chen Hsin was hit by the impulse to bolt from the spot, Zhang Zhun spoke. “Morning,” he greeted Chen Hsin in a timid voice.
The confrontation Chen Hsin had been dreading never materialized; the unexpected turn of events took him by surprise. “Morning…”
“Xiao-Deng told me that you were the one who sent me back to my room last night,” Zhang Zhun continued with a sideways glance at his assistant. The air between the older men thickened; there was something in the air between them – something inexplicably suggestive and intimate. Then, just as if he had picked up on the unusual atmosphere between the two, Xiao-Deng nodded at them and went on ahead into the restaurant by himself. At last, Zhang Zhun found the courage to look up at Chen Hsin, though he dropped his gaze again almost immediately as he added, “Thank you.”
Chen Hsin was disoriented for a moment. Their conversation seemed to have transported him to a school field bathed in the warm glow of a sunset. Like a teenage schoolboy running into the girl he had a crush on, wondering if she felt the same, Chen Hsin felt a thrill spread through every inch of his body. Every nerve within him was alive with palpable excitement, sending wave after wave of a long-lost sweetness into his brain. “Don’t mention it. It’s nothing much.”
Flashing an unnatural smile at him, Zhang Zhun stepped to the left and started making his way to the restaurant. Still mired in the effects of the hormonal rush to his head, Chen Hsin remained rooted to the spot. Before he could recover, however, Zhang Zhun returned. In a tentative voice laden with unspoken feelings, he asked, “Last night… did I say anything?”
Chen Hsin’s mind was still muddled. Through his daze, he heard Zhang Zhun ask a second question, “Did I… do anything?”
Chen Hsin felt as if his throat were caught in a stranglehold. Panic flickered in his eyes. Although the emotion was gone almost as soon as it appeared, Zhang Zhun caught it. Not knowing what really happened last night, Zhang Zhun misread the fleeting look in Chen Hsin’s eyes. He must have gotten carried away last night, he thought, and Chen Hsin must have found out about his desires. Whipping his head away in fear, Zhang Zhun fled in the direction of the restaurant. Chen Hsin was stumped. He remained glued to the spot, unable to make heads or tails of Zhang Zhun’s behavior – why was he given such a fond, tender look instead of a sucker punch to the face?