Deep in the Act
First Published on Chaleuria
Chapter 21.2 (NSFW)
Xiao-Deng shot a glance along Wu Rong’s line of vision. “He’s always present for these kinds of scenes, since the director wants him to make a study of them.”
“F***!” Wu Rong abhorred the idea. “No way in hell is it okay to have someone studying these scenes!”
Amused by his outrage, Xiao-Deng assured him, “This scene isn’t too bad, Ge – more lines than action.”
“You’ve been here watching them build the set since yesterday?”
“Zhun-ge gave me a day off so that I could come watch and learn.” Xiao-Deng used to be a design major and had always wanted to make the switch to scenic design. His response reminded Wu Rong of something. “Zhun-er is way too nice,” he spat in a bitter tone, “that’s why he gets f***ing bullied all the time!”
Meanwhile, Zhang Zhun – with only a towel wrapped around his waist – stood listening as the director analyzed the upcoming scene for him. Jabbing at the script, Chen Cheng-Sen said, “This scene takes place quite a while after Gao Zhun and Fang Chi have separated. He’s already slept with a number of men, so I want you to be wild and flirty. Get into the role of a sex addict – put on your seductive and coquettish wiles.”
Zhang Zhun kept nodding. When he caught sight of Wu Rong, the corners of his lips tightened in embarrassment. His reaction upset Wu Rong a little. He strode up to them in a careless manner. After exchanging a couple of greetings in jest with the director, he turned to look at Zhang Zhun. “Buddy,” he said, “I’m counting on you later on. I’ll follow your lead for this one.”
At this, Zhang Zhun finally broke into a smile – a heartfelt smile filled with relief and genuine sweetness. There was no way he would ever leave his senior in the lurch. When they were in bed at last, stark naked, and locked face to face in each other’s arms, Zhang Zhun gave him one last reassurance, “Just focus on delivering your lines. Leave everything else to me.”
“Action!” the director called out.
The camera was close, but the two were even closer to each other. Together, they reclined lazily against the head of the bed, exchanging careless kisses now and then as they fondled each other’s chests. “This is f***ing beyond my dreams,” Wu Rong muttered, rubbing one of Zhang Zhun’s nipples between his fingers, “someone like you, shacking up with me in this rundown place, letting me into your bed…” His kneading touch became almost devout. “Just thinking about it is enough to make me cum.”
Zhang Zhun’s hair fell about his face, and his entire being was suffused with a delicate sweetness. He seemed pleased by the other man’s obsessive devotion, and broke into a tantalizing smile with a flash of his teeth. “You just want to talk? Or do you wanna f***?” They were so close; he lifted a leg onto Wu Rong’s shoulder with ease and began rocking the limb lewdly. “I’m already wet enough…”
According to the script, Wu Rong was supposed to tilt his head to the side and plant a kiss on the ankle moving on his shoulder. At the same time, his hand ought to be traveling up the length of Zhang Zhun’s leg: along his calf, over his knee, across the flesh on his thigh and butt, until it reached the open crack of his ass. But Wu Rong, transfixed by the sight before him, found it near-impossible to tear his eyes away. When he felt Zhang Zhun pinching his abs, he turned his head at last – only to meet Chen Hsin’s scrutinizing gaze before he could even lay his lips on Zhang Zhun’s skin. He immediately felt the sting of a guilty conscience. When he turned back to face Zhang Zhun once more, he was no longer his usual self, and his performance began to go awry.
Although Wu Rong moved his hand according to the stage directions, Zhang Zhun sensed the nervous trembling in his touch. Trying to make up for his senior’s lackluster acting, Zhang Zhun began flexing his waist in earnest, putting on an elaborate display of pleasure to keep the scene going. But Wu Rong continued to blunder – he forgot the line that he was supposed to deliver as his hand slipped into Zhang Zhun’s ass crack: “I want you to suck me off.” Seated behind the screen, Chen Cheng-Sen shook his head and signaled with a wave of his arm for the cameramen to stop filming. Intending to treat this as a run-through, however, he did not give any verbal order to cut the take.
Unaware of the director’s decision, Zhang Zhun carried on with the act. He peered up at Wu Rong, his gaze seductive and alluring. Then, still locking gazes with the other man, he began slipping down Wu Rong’s body with slow, deliberate movements. Propping his hands on the wooden headboard, Wu Rong followed Zhang Zhun’s every action with rapt attention. None of the audience could see the mix of fear and fascination on his face right now as he watched Zhang Zhun slide further and further down the bed. Like a young fool, he shuddered helplessly every time Zhang Zhun’s lips brushed against the flesh on his ribs.
When he reached Wu Rong’s crotch, Zhang Zhun stuck out the pink tip of his tongue and began licking like a cat. Although he was only lapping at a small patch of skin in the dip of the other man’s groin, Wu Rong reacted strongly to the touch. Unaware of his own actions, he tightened his grip and pressed down hard on the wooden headboard; the wooden frame sank by an inch with a muffled thud. Sinking his fingers into Zhang Zhun’s hair, Wu Rong delivered his line in a mechanical voice, “What would you like to have for lunch?”
Zhang Zhun responded with his scripted reply, “Can’t you tell I’m already busy stuffing my face down here?”
“F***!” After two hard thrusts of his hips, Wu Rong continued, “Seriously, I’ll cook up something. What do you feel like having?”
Zhang Zhun pulled away. Sliding himself along Wu Rong’s body, sensually rubbing the other man’s legs with his own, he slinked towards the foot of the bed on all fours. “Not interested.” He arched his back and raised the pert, round globes of his ass into the air. “Get down to business. We’ll eat out once we’re done.”
Wu Rong released his hold on the headboard and realized that his hands had gone a little numb from his exertion. When he turned around, he was greeted by a most delectable sight: waiting before his eyes were the supple panes of Zhang Zhun’s silken back and the exquisite curve of his waist and hips. He swallowed. Then he covered Zhang Zhun’s body with his own. “F***! You’ll be the death of me!”
Zhang Zhun hummed out loud on cue and began rocking his body to an urgent rhythm. There Chen Hsin sat, right before him, fully and neatly clothed. As Wu Rong bit into the nape of his neck, bucking into his body with rapid, brutal thrusts, Zhang Zhun closed his eyes and shut out Chen Hsin’s watchful gaze.
Turning to Chen Cheng-Sen, Zhou Zheng commented, “Wu Rong still needs a lot of work for scenes like these.”
Meanwhile, Chen Hsin seethed with agitation that had been mounting within him since the previous night. Seizing the opportunity, he put on a sullen expression and piped up in an audible voice, “What’s the point of making them go through the motions when the cameras are no longer rolling?”
Engrossed in the act of ramming himself against Zhang Zhun, Wu Rong missed Chen Hsin’s deliberate remark. But Zhang Zhun, sensitized to the sound of Chen Hsin’s voice, caught it loud and clear. He opened his eyes and peered through the mussed hair that had fallen over his face. When he saw that the cameras had indeed been switched off, he was no longer willing to put up with Wu Rong’s touch. He tried to get out of the bed, but Wu Rong lunged after him as he started to move towards the edge. Lost in character, Wu Rong clung to him and pulled him once again into a forceful, possessive embrace. Mortified with embarrassment, Zhang Zhun called out in protest, “Se… Senior!”
At this, Chen Hsin uncrossed his legs. Just as he was about to dash over to the bed, however, Chen Cheng-Sen spoke up. “Wu Rong get off the bed,” he ordered, “Chen-laoshi go over and show him how it’s supposed to be done.”
The order took Chen Hsin by surprise, but Zhang Zhun, seated on the bed, seemed even more surprised. When their eyes met, Chen Hsin saw the clear evasiveness in the other man’s gaze. As Wu Rong climbed out of bed, panting, Chen Hsin took off his jacket and got onto the bed from the other side. “Where do I begin?” he asked Chen Cheng-Sen.
The director wanted him to run through the entire scene, so he moved into Wu Rong’s starting position and turned to look Zhang Zhun in the face. “This is f***ing beyond my dreams…” Opting for a different interpretation from Wu Rong’s, he murmured the scripted lines with lingering affection. “Someone like you, shacking up with me in this rundown place,” he breathed as his thumb scratched lightly over Zhang Zhun’s nipple, “just thinking about it is enough to make me cum…”
Zhang Zhun was supposed to assume the airs of an entitled and pampered lover. He ought to have responded with effortless ease. But now, facing Chen Hsin, he lost all ability to put up such appearances. His face reddened as he shrank from Chen Hsin’s presence. “You just want to talk? Or do you wanna…” His voice trailed off into near-incoherence as he peered into Chen Hsin’s eyes with panic and kissed the other man with trembling lips. Instead of exchanging flippant pecks, they locked their tongues together. They kissed again and again, each thrusting deeply into the other’s mouth and throat, unable to pull their entwined tongues apart.
“I’m… already wet enough…” Zhang Zhun stammered out his line at long last. He tried to lift his leg onto Chen Hsin’s shoulder, but for reasons beyond his understanding – perhaps it was too slippery – he failed for two consecutive attempts. His eyes glistened as Chen Hsin trapped him against the headboard and breathed a sultry whisper into his ear, “Do you like me?”
Numbing tingles spread like wildfire from his ear to his scalp. Certain that Chen Hsin’s question was not part of the script, Zhang Zhun became stricken with panic. All color drained from his face. Like a camellia blossom shaken from its branch before its time, Zhang Zhun began trembling all over as he curled up a little on himself. But Chen Hsin would not let him go. He grabbed Zhang Zhun’s hand, holding on with obsessive forcefulness while Zhang Zhun, stubborn in his own way, tried to shake off the grip.
“Stop! Stop! Stop!” Chen Cheng-Sen flung his script onto the floor as he bellowed, “What is wrong with you, Zhang Zhun! You were fine just a few moments ago!” Snatching up his glass and cap, he continued, “Wu Rong! Go back and think things over! We’re done for today!” He began heading for the door, but doubled back to deliver one last warning, “We’ll continue shooting this scene tomorrow. If you screw things up again, we carry on the day after!”
The crew began packing up. Zhang Zhun and Wu Rong started getting dressed, each mulling over his own thoughts in silence. Chen Hsin wanted to wait for Zhang Zhun, but he received a call from Chen Cheng-Sen, asking him to return to the hotel together. He met Xiao-Deng on his way out and gave the young man a polite nod.
Once everything had been packed up, the remaining crew began moving toward the elevators. Wu Rong trailed behind Zhang Zhun and Xiao-Deng, hanging his head in dejection. He had never been one to hold up a production with his blunders. This was the first time in his career that he had caused so much trouble for a film crew. After pondering for a while, he rushed forward to catch up with the two men before him. Pushing Xiao-Deng aside with a pat on his shoulder, Wu Rong pulled on Zhang Zhun’s arm and whispered into his ear, “I’ll go over to your room tonight, okay?”
Zhang Zhun had a rough sense of what Wu Rong intended to do. Thinking nothing much of it, he nodded. Xiao-Deng, on the other hand, looked peeved as he grumbled aloud, “What’s up with the secrecy, Wu-ge!”