Deep in the Act

Translator: Kotoni

Editor: Cien

Quality Check: Isalee

First Published on Chaleuria

Chapter 38.1

Gao Zhun woke up in Fang Chi’s arms. To be more precise, he found himself lying bonelessly atop the other man. The horizon was aglow with the first glimmers of sunlight. In the warm comfort of their bed, a slight ache pulled at his lower body. The skin at the base of his thigh must have been rubbed raw, he figured. Bit by bit, Gao Zhun eased himself onto the mattress and lifted the covers. Just as he was about to sneak a peek at his spread legs, Fang Chi woke up as well and saw Gao Zhun’s compromising position. With a light cough, Fang Chi cleared his throat. Gao Zhun snapped his legs together, a furious blush suffusing his face, and mumbled a coy greeting, “Good morning…”

Fang Chi sat up, frowning. He reached under the covers and began feeling around. Gao Zhun immediately knew what the other man was searching for; after sweeping his feet several times across his side of the bed, he fished out the man’s underwear and handed it over. Fang Chi seemed very uneasy, and his expression darkened with evident discomfort.

Charmed by such a look of gentlemanly reserve, Gao Zhun grew reluctant to part with him. “I don’t have to go to work today…”Gao Zhun murmured, tousled hair falling about his face, and leaned over for a kiss. But Fang Chi backed away, blatantly avoiding his advances. The outright rejection cut Gao Zhun to the quick; he hurt, yet he said nothing. Instead, he pressed forward once more in silent persistence and continued straining toward the other man’s mouth. All of a sudden, Fang Chi declared in a voice tight with restraint, “Linlin is coming back this weekend.”

Gao Zhun froze. He had not expected to hear that name at a time like this. “How would you know?”

“She texted me,” Fang Chi replied, turning with difficulty to face Gao Zhun.

She texted. A text message, not just an exchange on WeChat…. Was this not enough proof just how close the two of them were? An immense sadness consumed Gao Zhun. As if every last bone and sinew had been ripped from his flesh, his body went limp, and unshed tears swirled in his eyes. Feeling a slight pang of regret, Fang Chi tried to lift the face before him, but his outstretched hand was slapped away at once. Despite the uncontrollable tremors in his body, Gao Zhun forced himself to put up a show of impenetrable coldness. “Give me your phone.”

Fang Chi could accept neither his tone nor his demand. “It’s personal…

Will you give it here or not?!” Even as the wetness in the corners of Gao Zhun’s eyes took on a subtle pink hue in the morning glow, his features hardened with a flash of sharp ferocity. Speechless, Fang Chi stared back at Gao Zhun for a long, silent moment. Then, heaving a sigh, he unlocked his phone and yielded the device. Gao Zhun practically snatched the proffered phone out of Fang Chi’s hand. He tapped on the inbox icon again and again; it took him several tries before the inbox opened at last.

Words flooded the screen – so many words, densely packed into rows upon rows of names and subject headings. “… Where is it?” Hysteria mounted within Gao Zhun as he scrolled through the endless history of messages. His fruitless search drove him up the wall. Like a petulant child, he thrust the phone at Fang Chi and ordered, “Find it for me!” Though exasperated, Fang Chi indulged the demand and looked up his chat log with Zuo Linlin. Dozens of read messages appeared onscreen:

[As you know, I’ve always hated jet lag with a vengeance.]
[The sky looks so blue in Brussels.]
[I’ve reached Fontainebleau… the commune misses you too.]

Gao Zhun read through all of them, one by one, until he reached the last text from her: [Time really flies. Three more days to go before I get to see you again.] Like a lost puppy, he set his helpless gaze upon the other man. “You two have been in contact all along?”

“She did all the talking,” Fang Chi answered as he retrieved his phone from Gao Zhun’s grasp. “I didn’t reply at all.”

Visible distress showed on Gao Zhun’s face. He looked anxious, agitated even. “I’ll break up with her.”

“What then?” Fang Chi threw off the covers and got out of bed. Without turning around, he tossed out a single question like a test of some sort, “Look for another girlfriend?”

“Can’t we” Gao Zhun began to say, but his initial resolve withered in the next breath. He did not dare utter the remaining words in his throat: … get together instead?

“I’m not gay.” Fang Chi strode into the bathroom and turned on the tap.

A violent shudder tore across Gao Zhun’s shoulders as if he was struck by a sudden revelation. “Then… do you want to be with her?” he asked, tentative and tremulous. There was no reply; the sound of running water had drowned out his voice, it seemed. Gao Zhun wanted to chase after the other man and repeat the question to his face; as soon as he shifted his legs, however, he was reminded of his own nakedness. Shyly, he hugged the covers to himself – he seemed so small as he hunched over the pile of bedding in his lap – and sought out Fang Chi’s back with glazed eyes full of longing.

No one could remain unmoved under such a heated gaze. Seeing Gao Zhun’s reflection in the mirror, all lost and driven out of his wits with yearning, Fang Chi felt the urge to turn and throw him down on the bed once more. But he forced himself to ignore the other man; hardening his will, he continued brushing his teeth and washing his face at a leisurely pace while Gao Zhun waited, innocent and powerless. When Fang Chi came out of the bathroom at last, Gao Zhun muttered a subdued plea, “My underwear… please.”

The request jolted Fang Chi’s memories from last night: he had stripped Gao Zhun of his underwear at the entrance and left it with his trousers and belt in a lewd pile by the door. How desperate they had been, gnawing and biting with all their might like two crazed beasts in heat, as if their raging lusts could never be sated until each had eaten of the other’s bloodied flesh.

Cheek crushed to cheek, they clung to each other as groin rammed ruthlessly into groin. Mimicking the dancers, Fang Chi bucked hard against the body beneath him with clumsy thrusts. There Gao Zhun lay, almost senseless from the pounding; so far gone was he that he breathed not a single sound until his legs were lifted and clamped around something unfamiliar. Only when he felt the squeeze against the tenderness of his perineum did he let out a soft hum of surprise. “Didn’t you say you’d get me off with your thighs?” Fang Chi shoved himself between Gao Zhun’s legs, snapped his knees together with a death grip, and f***ed into the tight warmth. Over and over again, he slammed his burning flesh into the supple sheath. Even the horniest of youths driven to desperation from years of deprivation could not match the frenzied, deranged pace of his violent pistoning. Gao Zhun moaned, and his frantic cries filled the night…

Now that his mind was clear once more, Fang Chi felt nothing but loathing for what he had been last night. He hated himself, and resented Gao Zhun even more for seducing him. “I have new ones here in the bathroom.” He leaned against the doorframe, intending to make things as difficult as possible for the other man. “Come get them yourself.”

Knowing full well that Fang Chi was being mean, Gao Zhun bit his lips in slight distress. “Don’t tease me like this…”

“Not coming over?”

Gao Zhun glanced at him, as if in deliberation, and began shifting across the bed. Bit by bit, he eased his body toward the edge as he pleaded, “Can’t you pass them to me? Please?” But Fang Chi spoke not a word; crossing his arms, he took in the sight of the other man’s embarrassment with great relish. Gao Zhun lifted a corner of the covers and lowered a leg to the floor. The smooth curve of his buttocks flattened a little as his ass pressed suggestively into the bedding, and Fang Chi caught the whiff of temptation in the air.

“Don’t do this to me…” Gao Zhun stilled; he was unwilling to move anymore. Shame painted the smooth planes of his chest a deep, alluring red. “I’ve already obeyed you in everything.”

“We’re both men. What are you afraid of?” Fang Chi asked.

“I…” With great effort, Gao Zhun lowered his other leg as well. The rumpled covers, creased by anxious hands, covered little else besides the small area between his thighs. “I’m afraid you’ll dislike me if you’re turned off by what you see.”

Fang Chi straightened all of a sudden. Moved by Gao Zhun’s words, gripped by an all-consuming warmth, he swallowed hard. “Let me see if I will.” At this, Gao Zhun bowed his head and buried his face against his own chest. Then, little by little, he pulled away the pathetic corner of his blanket to reveal the small fleshy mass underneath.

“Stand up,” Fang Chi ordered. Gao Zhun did as he was told. He got to his feet, unfurling his hunched form, and clamped his hands over his face. He seemed so wretched and pitiful, so much like a prisoner about to be executed in a concentration camp – and yet, all Fang Chi could feel was the dryness of his own mouth as he croaked, “Come here.”