Deep in the Act
First Published on Chaleuria
After dinner, Xiao-Deng went to hang out in Zhang Zhun’s room. Lazing around on the bed, fiddling with the remote control in his hands, he began, “Ge… um, you and Chen Hsin…”
Zhang Zhun was sitting on the couch, folding the clothes that had just returned from the laundry service. Giving him a sideways glance, Xiao-Deng continued, “During today’s filming, you seemed pretty normal when you were acting with Wu-ge, even though you were super sexy and shameless. But when Chen Hsin took over, you just… became like that…”
“Like what?” Zhang Zhun replied at last, his voice cold and frosted over with some sort of detached anger.
Xiao-Deng was frightened. “I mean… you just seemed a little off…”
Just then, the doorbell rang. Before Zhang Zhun could get up to answer the door, however, Xiao-Deng sprung out of bed and dashed over on bare feet. Wu Rong was waiting outside. He snuck through the doorway and closed the door somewhat furtively behind him. He shot an embarrassed look at Zhang Zhun before turning to look at Xiao-Deng. “Deng-er – how do I put it – I have some business with your Zhun-ge. Be good. Go play by yourself elsewhere for a while.”
Xiao-Deng did not know whether to laugh or cry. “I’m not a kid anymore. What’s this talk about playing by myself?”
“Quit yammering.” Wu Rong tended to be rather forceful whenever he felt guilty about something; the greater his sense of guilt, the more aggressive he became. “Hurry up and scram. Don’t f***ing come back unless you’re called!”
Xiao-Deng glanced at Zhang Zhun and saw the older man hanging his head a little in an air of bashful, passive acceptance. “Go on,” Zhang Zhun instructed lightly, “we’re going to practice for the scene.”
Practice for the scene… Xiao-Deng understood at once. He began studying the two men before him, his eye flitting back and forth from one to the other. Discomfited by the assistant’s scrutiny, Wu Rong gave the young man a kick on the butt and threw him out of the room. The door clicked shut from the outside. Dead silence descended upon the room. Wu Rong rubbed his hands together as all his bravado melted away from him. “I say… you wanna shower first? Or should I go first?”
Zhang Zhun snorted in amusement. “It’s just practice. What do we need the shower for? What have you been thinking about in that head of yours?”
“Screw it!” Wu Rong blushed. “It’s my first f***ing time doing something like this!”
They looked at each other in silence. Several moments later, Zhang Zhun made the first move. He undid the buttons on his shirt, one by one, revealing the vague outline of the tantalizing body underneath. “We could… switch off the lights first.”
He began moving towards the bed. Wu Rong obeyed his instructions and started stripping as well when the lights went out. Clack – the sound of belt buckles coming undone rang out in the darkness. Then, Zhang Zhun turned on the bedside lamp. Feeling shy, Wu Rong grabbed a bath towel from the bathroom and wrapped it around his waist before sitting down beside Zhang Zhun on the bed.
Clad only in his boxer briefs, Zhang Zhun half-reclined in the warm, yellow glow from the bedside lamp. His long lashes – lengthened even more in the dim light, accentuated further by the soft shadows – fluttered gently against his face. Looking as exquisite and delicate as a girl, Zhang Zhun asked, “Where do we begin?”
All of a sudden, Wu Rong pecked him on the lips with a certain clumsy recklessness. “Give your big brother some time to get used to this, will you?”
Zhang Zhun responded with a light push. “I think it’ll be better if the practice is more targeted…”
Wu Rong sealed Zhang Zhun’s lips with his own and pulled the other man into his arms. Smothering Zhang Zhun with kisses, Wu Rong muttered, “The hell I’m doing… doing this with you! I’ll be f***ed if anyone ever found out!”
Zhang Zhun cracked up as he withstood the onslaught from Wu Rong. “You make it sound as if I’d taken advantage of you or something!”
Wu Rong pinned Zhang Zhun to the bedstead. As he continued kissing the man before him, they began sliding further and further down the bed, until they tumbled onto the fluffy down pillows together. Palpable excitement pumped through Wu Rong body; Zhang Zhun felt the tense, bulging muscles along his neck and shoulders as their chests rubbed against each other through a thin sheen of sweat.
“You just want to talk? Or do you… wanna f***?” Zhang Zhun struggled to voice out his lines. “I’m already wet enough…”
Wu Rong buried his head in the crook of Zhang Zhun’s neck. Holding his waist with one hand and tracing circles along the edge of his underarm with the other, Wu Rong asked, “I heard that you did this with Chen Hsin for half a month?”
At the sound of the name, something stirred within Zhang Zhun. Tiny goosebumps spread all over his skin, and his body suddenly became far more sensitive to Wu Rong’s touch. “Se… Senior! Timeout!”
Wu Rong refused to stop. He continued thrusting hard against the body below him, firmly pinning Zhang Zhun to the bed with his lower body. The sound of Chen Hsin’s name echoed in Zhang Zhun’s mind, and he knew that he would get hard in no time if they kept up the grinding for any longer. “Wu Rong, get off!”
But Wu Rong kept snuggling up against him, lost in the waves of tingling pleasure washing through his body. Panting softly, Zhang Zhun lifted a leg, aimed straight for his senior’s ass and kicked. With a loud yelp of pain, Wu Rong rolled off at last and his towel loosened in the process. As Zhang Zhun swept his unintentional glance downwards at the other man, he caught sight of the thing under the fabric. “Wu Rong,” he yelled in anger, “the f*** you’re doing without your underwear!”
After dinner, Chen Hsin toyed with the idea of looking for Zhang Zhun, but was too listless to make up his mind. He headed back towards his room instead. As he passed by room 3815 – occupied by the logistics department and overseen by Xiao-Wang – he noticed that the door was ajar. Laughter rang out in the room. He took a glance inside and noticed Xiao-Deng at once.
“Eh, what are you doing here?” Chen Hsin asked offhandedly, “Don’t you usually hang out in Zhang Zhun’s room at this time of the day?”
Xiao-Deng was playing with Xiao-Wang’s stereoscopic 3D glasses when Chen Hsin appeared. For some inexplicable reason, he tensed a little in apprehension at the sight of the other man. “Ah… Zhun-ge is kind of busy right now…”
Busy. Chen Hsin frowned. “What’s he busy with?”
“It’s nothing much,” Xiao-Deng’s reply was rather vague, “Wu-ge is there as well.”
“Oh…” Chen Hsin nodded without further comment. He turned around to leave, but doubled back after a couple of steps. “The scene with Wu Rong earlier today didn’t go too well,” he muttered, as if talking to himself. Xiao-Deng nodded along without thinking. “So,” Chen Hsin asked all of a sudden, “they’re practicing now?”
The young man hesitated. “They’re not… I think.”
You think not? Chen Hsin’s eyes narrowed. “Alright,” he replied with a nod at Xiao-Wang as well. “The two of you have fun.”
After backing out of room 3815, he retraced his steps and headed for the elevator lobby instead. According to the display, the elevator was in the basement right now. He pressed the downward button. Then, without any warning, he kicked the trashcan over, sending white ashes spilling across the floor. He stared at the mess for a moment, silent and expressionless – as if he was hardening some kind of resolve – before turning away again to head for the stairwell.
Room 3705 – even though it was only a flight of stairs and several additional steps away, Chen Hsin felt as if he had trudged across the entire world. He devised a complete plan on the way: he would knock on the door, charge in the moment the door opened, and teach what’s-his-name a lesson if things were really as he imagined. Keeping Wu Rong’s martial arts training in mind, he even took stock of the various tools at his disposal in the room. He remembered that Zhang Zhun’s barbell and chest expander could be found by the couch near the window, while his pair of steel push-up bars were usually left by the TV set.
At last, he stood before Zhang Zhun’s door, all pumped up with excessive adrenaline roaring through his veins. However, just as his fingers were about to make contact with the door, an unexpected rush of endorphins surged into his brain. Those damned images of Zhang Zhun from today’s filming resurfaced in his mind. There they were, lying cheek to cheek in the bed, his fingers around the hardened nub on Zhang Zhun’s chest while Zhang Zhun evaded him with a blush on his face. Then, peering up at him with panicked eyes, Zhang Zhun latched desperately onto his mouth with trembling lips. There was no doubt about it: Zhang Zhun had feelings for him, just like a girl who had given her heart away in secret.
All strength drained away from Chen Hsin’s fingers. His touch was light and gentle as he rested his palm against the door. Trying in vain to feel the warmth in the room beyond, Chen Hsin pressed his forehead to the surface as well. He had just gotten carried away – he told himself – he had just gone too deep into his act, and got mired for a moment in the most illusory of desires and feelings. Was he really going to lose his head in a game of dramatic romance like a rash, ignorant boy? He plucked out his pack of cigarettes and took a glance; there were more than ten sticks left. They ought to be enough to tide him over, he thought as he slumped against the wall. They should be able to last him through the wait.