51

Evening. The burning clouds at the horizon had run together into one sheet, shrouding the entire bedroom in crimson.

The air conditioning wasn't strong enough; the room temperature climbed higher and higher, the air thick with a viscous, humid vapor.

Ji Su lay on the bed, soaked through, as if he'd just been pulled from the water — the liquid had darkened the dark sheets to an even deeper shade.

His waist and hips were very narrow — narrow enough that a single hand could hold them — and his long, straight legs were raised high, a broad palm easily gripping his thigh.

But he was sweating too much; the snow-white, soft, tender flesh of his thighs had gone wet and slippery, so slippery it was nearly impossible to hold — requiring more force, the bony, defined fingers pressing distinct marks into the thigh flesh.

Ji Su's voice carried a sob he could barely suppress, his legs kicking in discomfort — but the large hand gripping him was like an immovable iron clamp; no matter how he struggled, he couldn't break free.

In Gu Zhao's hands, he seemed to become a thoughtless doll, able only to be arranged at will.

After a while, Gu Zhao leaned down to kiss him again — his scalding tongue slipping into the wet, soft mouth, stirring fiercely and heavily through every corner.

Ji Su was forced to tilt his slender neck back; even his pitiful whimpers were blocked in his throat, until his vision went white and he nearly couldn't catch his breath.

Gu Zhao pulled back slightly, his dark, heavy gaze like a fine, dense net, binding the person beneath him fast.

With a tender, loving touch, he used his fingertip to brush aside Ji Su's wet hair from his forehead — and the next instant, his gaze changed abruptly…

The sky darkened gradually; the last thread of sunlight sank below the horizon, and the room fell into boundless dimness.

Gu Zhao rose, gathered the drowsy person waist-high into his arms, and walked into the bathroom.

The bathtub was filled with warm water; with gentle movements, he lowered the person in his arms into the water.

When Ji Su entered the water, his senses cleared a little.

His crow-feather-dark, dense eyelashes were clumped together by tears, his dewy eyes half-open and half-closed, his thin eyelids reddened from crying, his full lips red and swollen — he looked utterly pitiful, thoroughly bullied.

He lay against the edge of the bathtub, his flawless snow-white back covered in red marks; as for the long legs hidden beneath the water's surface, the marks there were too terrible to look at.

Gu Zhao watched with heavy, dark eyes for a moment, then stepped into the bathtub as well.

A scorching chest pressed against him from behind; Ji Su shivered, his voice soft and hoarse: 'No more…'

'No more?' Gu Zhao gripped that slender waist, leaning in to kiss him. 'No more what?'

Ji Su was kissed until his tailbone went numb, his body sliding a little further into the water.

Gu Zhao's lips trailed a string of kisses: 'Don't want me?'

Ji Su shook his head weakly: 'It's not that…'

'Didn't you say earlier that you wanted to do it?' Gu Zhao gently nibbled his earlobe, asking in a low, deep voice. 'Coming or not?'

Ji Su hiccupped once: 'Not coming.'

'Really not coming?' Gu Zhao held his waist and kindly lifted him up a little.

Ji Su flinched, his slender fingers gripping the edge of the bathtub, trying to use the momentum to lift himself out of the water.

But he had no strength at all in his body; his reddened fingertips curled up, and powerless, he kept sliding down, uncontrollably sinking deeper into the water…

After a long while, Gu Zhao wrapped the dripping wet person in a bath towel and carried him back to the bed.

This time, Ji Su couldn't keep his eyes open at all; lying face-down on the soft, cool silk sheets, he quickly sank into a deep sleep.

*

That night, Ji Su had a long-absent dream.

In the dream, he was still six years old; that summer, his mother had sent him to his grandmother's house.

Perhaps because she didn't like his father, his grandmother didn't like him much either; to win her favor, he tried hard to be well-behaved and obedient — even though it was very boring there, with no little friends to play with, he didn't cry or make a fuss.

He knew his parents were fighting; the young him already understood what 'divorce' meant, and he was very afraid his parents would separate — even more afraid that neither of them would want him.

Fortunately, there was a Piano at his grandmother's house, so he sat at the Piano all day, tirelessly practicing the same piece.

Until one day, while practicing, he heard a burst of noisy sounds from outside the window.

He was very curious, but he still didn't go out to look — he just kept sitting by the window playing the Piano piece.

The roar of a car engine sounded, and he couldn't help turning his head, his gaze drifting to the window.

Just then, a black sedan passed by outside the window; a head poked out from the car window — a boy, thin to the point of gauntness, was watching him unblinkingly with a pair of dark, bright eyes.

That gaze should clearly have been a stranger's, yet he felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity…

Ji Su slept until past eleven o'clock that night, and when he woke, he was still a little dazed.

Why would he suddenly dream of something so long ago — and dream of a strange little boy?

A moment later, his senses returned, and he discovered his calf was being held and played with in Gu Zhao's hand.

The slender, straight calf — the flesh snow-white and fine, the skin's surface glowing with the warm luster of jade.

Ji Su instinctively wanted to pull his leg back, but the moment he moved, an indescribable ache and swelling numbness rushed up together, making his scalp tingle.

'Awake?' Gu Zhao raised his eyes. 'How do you feel?'

Ji Su replied in a thread of voice: 'Hurts…'

Gu Zhao leaned closer: 'Let me see.'

Ji Su immediately pressed his knees together, not letting the other look.

'Baby, let me see.' Gu Zhao leaned in to kiss him, coaxing in a low voice. 'Let me see if you're hurt.'

Ji Su didn't have the strength to refuse, so he half-heartedly let him check.

Gu Zhao narrowed his dark eyes slightly, his voice very hoarse: 'It's fine.'

Ji Su pulled his leg back, accidentally pulling at the sore, swollen muscle, and hissed in pain.

'Hungry?' Gu Zhao pressed a soothing kiss to the reddened knee. 'There's still chicken soup warming in the pot.'

At those words, Ji Su only then felt hungry, reaching up to touch his belly, which had gone paper-thin.

Gu Zhao watched his movement, and the image of that belly swelling up earlier rose before his eyes; his Adam's apple moved.

Ji Su was about to get up, then suddenly remembered he had nothing on underneath, and pulled the thin blanket tighter around himself: 'You go out first, I need to put on clothes.'

'Go out?' Gu Zhao said with a half-smile. 'Is there any part of you I haven't seen?'

Not only seen, but touched, kissed — every inch carefully traced.

Ji Su, his ears red: 'I don't care, you're not allowed to watch me change.'

Gu Zhao clicked his tongue, opened the wardrobe to find clothes for him.

Ji Su, sharp-eyed, noticed what seemed to be a skirt hanging inside — but it was only a flash, and the wardrobe door closed.

Gu Zhao opened another wardrobe, rummaged through it, and pulled out his own shirt to hand to him.

Ji Su took the shirt: 'What about shorts?'

'All my shorts are in the wash.' Gu Zhao replied casually. 'My shirt is long enough on you, you don't need shorts.'

Ji Su thought for a moment, didn't keep being shy, and changed into the loose black shirt; the hem just covered the base of his thighs.

Gu Zhao carried him to the dining room and set him on a chair.

Ji Su carefully adjusted his posture to sit more comfortably.

A whole chicken had been simmered for hours; the meat was stewed soft, and the original-flavor chicken soup was extraordinarily fresh — one sip could freshen off your tongue.

Ji Su drank a small bowl of chicken soup, then ate half a bowl of chicken-shredded noodles with greens, and contentedly licked the corner of his lips.

Gu Zhao said lightly: 'Not bad, all finished.'

Ji Su suddenly recalled certain moments, and that deep, magnetic voice at his ear praising: 'Good baby, all taken in…'

His long, dense eyelashes trembled, and his fair ear-tips also flushed a layer of crimson.

Gu Zhao looked at him: 'Full?'

Ji Su nodded: 'Full.'

Gu Zhao laughed, his meaning unclear: 'But I haven't eaten my fill yet.'

'Then keep eating.' Ji Su wiped his fingers clean with a wet wipe. 'Is the pot empty?'

Gu Zhao didn't answer his question, and began settling accounts after the fact: 'What made you think of watching those videos?'

Ji Su blinked his lashes and answered honestly: 'Because I wanted to learn.'

'Want to do it with me that badly?' Gu Zhao laughed. 'How long have you been planning this?'

'No… I was…' Ji Su found himself unable to explain for a moment. 'I was just afraid you wouldn't know how, so I…'

'So what did you think of how I did just now?' Gu Zhao leaned back in his chair. 'Compared to that man in the video, how was it?'

Ji Su's ear roots grew hot, and he looked away: 'J-just okay, I guess…'

In fact, it wasn't just okay — it was very okay.

In every respect, terrifyingly powerful.

He'd embarrassingly passed out several times later, absolutely not because his stamina was too weak…

Gu Zhao repeated, word by word: 'Just okay?'

'I'm sleepy.' Ji Su, sensing something off, changed the subject. 'I want to go back and keep sleeping.'

Gu Zhao looked at him for a few seconds, then carried him back to the bedroom.

His body touched the bed, and Ji Su couldn't help but sigh in comfort.

Gu Zhao asked: 'Still hurts?'

'Still hurts.' Ji Su's tone carried a slight complaint, sounding almost like he was acting spoiled. 'It's all your fault for being too… that…'

Gu Zhao countered: 'Too what?'

Ji Su pressed his lips together, refusing to say more.

'Turn over.' Gu Zhao sat on the bed. 'Let me massage you.'

Even though he'd just been bullied into crying, Ji Su's guard was still far from enough at this moment.

He obediently turned over, lying face-down on the bed: 'Then press lightly, okay…'

The hem of the black shirt rode up with his movement, revealing thigh flesh covered in finger-marks; his slender waist dipped in, making his buttocks look even more rounded and pert.

Gu Zhao's gaze darkened; without a flicker of expression, he leaned over and began kneading through the shirt from the shoulder.

He deliberately lightened his force, but Ji Su still whined that it hurt.

Gu Zhao's hand paused: 'I'll go lighter.'

The scorching palm passed over the protruding butterfly bones, pressing and kneading down along the slender spine.

His slim waist trembled at the squeeze, and Ji Su dodged to the side: 'A little ticklish, skip that part.'

'Okay.' Gu Zhao responded, stretched out his arm to pull open the bedside drawer, took out essential oil, unscrewed it, and dripped two drops onto his leg.

Ji Su was startled by the coolness, turned his face to ask: 'What's that?'

'Essential oil.' Gu Zhao replied in a serious tone. 'For activating blood circulation and resolving bruises.'

Ji Su lay back down, continuing to enjoy his massage service.

Gu Zhao's hand pressure was neither light nor heavy; he gradually grew used to it, lying on the pillow, drowsy.

Gu Zhao's eyes lowered, and a wicked smile curved at the corner of his lips.

The next second, Ji Su suddenly snapped awake, gasping: 'Gu Zhao!'

Scorching breath sprayed against the sensitive back of his neck; Gu Zhao answered in a deep voice: 'Mm, I'm here.'

His thin, long fingers clutched the pillow tightly; Ji Su, his voice soft, tried to win sympathy: 'Gu Zhao gege, I'm really so sleepy, I really want to sleep…'

'It's fine, you sleep.' Gu Zhao laughed softly. 'I'm only just okay, after all.'