Translator: Kotoni
Editor: Drogan
Quality Check: Isalee
First Published on Chaleuria
The sound of heavy panting filled Zhang Zhun’s ears; he could hear nothing else as heat roiled through his body, every tensed inch of skin trembling under Chen Hsin’s fondling touch. Melding hip to hip, pressing thigh against thigh, they lay together in his bed, stripped down to their underwear. Now and then, hardened nipples would slide against skin drenched in sweat, triggering waves of electrifying pleasure that rippled unbearably through their bodies.
Chen Hsin’s hair fell on his face, light and playful, haloed in gold as the faint morning light shone through the thick curtains. Zhang Zhun could not believe how far things had gone since they started cohabiting under orders thirteen days ago – kisses melted into hugs, tentative touches grew into wild, uncontrolled caresses… and now, here they were, inseparably entwined like actual lovers, crushing their bodies against each other as if their lives depended on it.
Lapping at the crook of Zhang Zhun’s neck, Chen Hsin grabbed Zhang Zhun by the ass. Through the thin fabric of Zhang Zhun’s pants, he kneaded the mounds of flesh slowly, as if he were fondling a woman’s breasts. “Your legs…” he muttered hoarsely. “Spread your legs.”
Delirious with desire, Zhang Zhun obliged in a daze. Immediately, he felt something hard and hot press against the proof of his own arousal between his open legs. He was already hard, but as Chen Hsin rocked against him in flagrant lust, he could not help but moan at the excruciating stimulation to his senses.
Controlled and deliberate, Chen Hsin humped against Zhang Zhun’s bulge, alternating the pressure and pace of his thrusts as he teased the body under him. “Feels good huh?” He asked, laughter in his voice, “Do you like it fast? Or slow?”
Wordlessly, Zhang Zhun turned his head away and sank his teeth into his lower lip. His reaction annoyed Chen Hsin to no end. “What’s wrong with feeling good, hm?” he taunted as he latched onto the corner of Zhang Zhun’s tightly clenched lips. Like a suckling cat, he licked persistently and sloppily at Zhang Zhun, slurping obscenely as his spit trailed across Zhang Zhun’s face. Zhang Zhun had never been toyed with in bed; though he was not without sexual experience, none of his partners had ever played with his body the way Chen Hsin did now. Overcome with sensation, his mouth fell open helplessly, spilling quickened moans urgently from his lips as he reached for Chen Hsin’s shoulders.
Propping himself up, Chen Hsin stared down at Zhang Zhun and began thrusting faster and harder as his hands wandered all over Zhang Zhun. Starting with his wet, shapely face, Chen Hsin’s hands trailed down the delicate line of his jawbone to close their grip around his throat, kneading his Adam’s apple with a lingering touch before sliding downwards again over the expanse of his sculpted pecs. The beauty of Zhang Zhun’s body captivated him: it was soft yet powerful, each of his sweat-slicked muscles flexing with a life of its own, glistening erotically in the light.
“Ah… hah…” Zhang Zhun heard himself cry out, and was scandalized by the hopelessly sultry note in his voice. When he noticed Chen Hsin watching him, his mind promptly exploded. “Don’t… don’t look…” he pleaded as he turned his body over, leaving Chen Hsin with the smooth, silken planes of his back. This was a position with which they were already familiar. During their practices, Chen Hsin would place a towel over Zhang Zhun’s ass and rub himself against the fabric. But now, ignoring the towel close at hand, Chen Hsin stroked his bulge roughly with his right hand and tugged down the constrictive piece of clothing.
When Chen Hsin pressed down against him, Zhang Zhun immediately felt the overwhelming heat and strength from Chen Hsin’s throbbing erection, and the way it leaked against his ass, smearing its fluids all over his skin and soaking through his underwear. He struggled in resistance, but Chen Hsin pinned him firmly to the bed; there was no escape. Everything about their current situation reminded him of those lurid scenes from the pornographic films they had watched. Zhang Zhun was terrified, but as his fear grew in intensity, so did the perverse pleasure that gushed through his body. As he listened to the endless creaking of the mattress, Chen Hsin’s heavy panting against his ear, and the racing heartbeat in his own chest, tears began trickling uncontrollably from his eyes onto the pillow below him.
But it was still not enough for Chen Hsin. Unsatisfied, he flipped Zhang Zhun over and yanked his pants down too. Roughly gripping their c***s together with a single hand, he began pulling and twisting as he ground his swollen length furiously against Zhang Zhun’s engorged flesh. Intense pleasure tore through Zhang Zhun at the relentless stimulation, splitting his mind and body in two. Even as he clung tightly to Chen Hsin, rubbing the insides of his tensed thighs against Chen Hsin’s hips in a desperate frenzy, he whimpered in resistance, “Wait, no… this feels like… like we’re actually making love…”
“F***!” Chen Hsin did not know what he was swearing at, nor could he tell why he swore. All he could think of was to obey his single raging instinct: shut him up, fill his mouth, kiss him senseless. Just then, his phone began to ring and the sound of his ringtone – Schubert’s “Trout Quintet” – filled the room. With great reluctance, giving Zhang Zhun’s tongue one last lingering lick, Chen Hsin finally released his hold on Zhang Zhun and reached for his phone. After briefly collecting himself, he answered the call, “Hey, Yunting…”
Feng Yunting – Chen Hsin’s girlfriend and clandestine love interest, an up-and-coming model. On the other end of the line, she began to speak in her soft, saccharine sweet voice, “What have you been up to, honey?”
“Practicing with my partner for the film,” he answered half-heartedly, running his hand idly over the ridges of Zhang Zhun’s abs. They were both thoroughly drenched in sweat. The bedding under them was soaked through with the traces of their exertions. Covering his erection with a towel, Zhang Zhun got out of bed and fled.
Once in the bathroom, he threw the towel onto the floor and turned on the shower. Standing directly underneath the showerhead, he felt the blast of hot water wash away every last shred of that all-consuming, absurd lust. Hurry up and make it end – he thought, rubbing his head – if this goes on any longer, I…
Chen Hsin did not take long to end the call. Not bothering to cover himself, he sauntered over to the bathroom on bare feet, stark naked. He pulled the door open, stepped into the shower behind Zhang Zhun, and pressed himself against the other man as his arms snaked around Zhang Zhun’s waist. “Still hard?” he asked, sucking along the side of Zhang Zhun’s neck and leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake. “Shall we continue?”
Zhang Zhun shoved him away. “Get out.”
Though somewhat annoyed, Chen Hsin leaned in again. “C’mon, stop taking it so seriously. It’s not as if we’re actually having sex. We’re just helping each other get off, you know, giving each other a hand.” Embracing Zhang Zhun tightly from behind, Chen Hsin pushed his groin against Zhang Zhun’s ass as his hand reached forward to grope Zhang Zhun between the legs. In a split-second, however, before either of them realized what was happening, Zhang Zhun had twisted his body to the side and swung his right fist into Chen Hsin’s face. The impact sent water splashing everywhere, covering the glass wall with scattered droplets.
Chen Hsin collapsed onto the tiled floor in a daze. Through his swimming vision, he made out the shape of two lean calves before him. Even as he instinctively reached for them, they flinched away from his touch. He made several attempts to get up, but to no avail. Under the running water from the shower, his ears rang and his head began to buzz.
When Zhang Zhun came back to his senses, he was equally shocked by what he had done on reflex. Knowing how much power he could pack into his punches as a result of his martial arts training, he had always been mindful of his actions around others. He was always mild-mannered and patient in his interactions for fear of hurting the people around him. He squatted down and tried to help, but Chen Hsin slapped him away. Holding a hand to his head, his wet hair covering his face, Chen Hsin cursed in Taiwanese.
Suddenly, the phone in the hotel room began to ring. Chen Hsin reached for the extension in the bathroom and picked up the call. “Hello… Director?”
Zhang Zhun took the opportunity to lean in for a closer look. He brushed aside Chen Hsin’s hair and saw the darkening livid bruise on his face, as well as the faint traces of bleeding that had begun to show on the skin below his left eye. Shocked by the sight, he took a deep breath and was about to apologize when Chen Hsin hung up, glaring at him with eyes filled with spiteful triumph. “The director’s checking in with us in half an hour. Room 3726.”
As the saying goes: when it rains, it pours. Despite the sorry state they were in, they had no choice but to obey the director’s untimely orders. When Chen Hsin showed up with his horribly discolored injury, Chen Cheng-Sen was waiting for them by the window, puffing on his cigar. As Chen Hsin walked into the room, Chen Cheng-Sen paused visibly for a moment before he threw his cigar onto the floor in rage. He stabbed a finger in Chen Hsin’s face as he bellowed, “What the hell is wrong with you! You trying to get your ass kicked off the set?”
At this, Zhang Zhun immediately stepped out from behind Chen Hsin. “It’s my fault, Director. It was an accident…”
Having more or less figured out what had transpired between the two, the other occupants in the room – assistant director Zhou, the production manager, and two other crew members – exchanged knowing looks. Chen Cheng-Sen, on the other hand, refused to spare Zhang Zhun even a passing glance. He grabbed Chen Hsin’s face and peered more closely at the injury. “The entire eye will be bruised by tomorrow!”
Chen Hsin dismissed his concerns. “No one will be able to tell once it’s powdered. Given how defined my features are, it’s just going to look like part of the natural shadows on my face.”
Amused in spite of himself, the director patted him firmly on the cheek. “I’ll take your word for it. You better make sure you’re ready for the camera in two days, Chen-laoshi.”