Chapter 38
Lu Xuefeng couldn’t imagine Song Muqing, with his calm and refined demeanor, saying such things.
His tone was gentle and coaxing, the way he said “Xuefeng” almost a caress, a subtle seduction that was hard to resist.
But Lu Xuefeng, remembering their passionate encounter last night, felt a lingering ache in his lower back and thighs.
He hesitated. “Again… tonight?”
Song Muqing, seeing his hesitation, gently caressed his cheek with his thumb. “I want to.”
Lu Xuefeng looked into his eyes, thinking he could never be as direct and frank as Song Muqing.
He expressed all his desires and affections openly, without any shyness.
He had said he wanted him, that he wouldn’t stop, that it would feel good, his words honest and straightforward, making Lu Xuefeng aware of his own desirability and the pleasure of their intimacy.
There was no shame in his desire.
On their way home, they stopped at the supermarket; they needed to restock the refrigerator.
Song Muqing bought a crucian carp to make soup.
He pan-fried the fish, then simmered it slowly until the broth turned milky white, adding seasoning for a rich and flavorful soup.
Perhaps because he had been exhausted yesterday, busy with work today, or perhaps because Song Muqing’s cooking was simply too good, Lu Xuefeng had a good appetite, eating more than usual.
Song Muqing had always encouraged him to eat more, but his appetite hadn’t increased until today.
After Lu Xuefeng finished his meal, Song Muqing said with a smile, “It seems exercise does help.”
Lu Xuefeng looked at him, puzzled.
“It increases your appetite,” he explained.
Lu Xuefeng paused, then realized what kind of “exercise” he was referring to, his face warming slightly. “That’s not the reason,” he said, slightly flustered.
They cleaned up the kitchen together and prepared a fruit platter. They had bought a variety of fruits, leaving half in the refrigerator.
Song Muqing washed and cut the fruit, and Lu Xuefeng, while waiting, sampled a few pieces.
They took the fruit platter to the living room and attended to their own tasks.
Lu Xuefeng, relaxing on the sofa, checked the calendar. Tomorrow was his grandmother’s follow-up appointment with Dr. Xun, so he needed to take her to the hospital.
He called his grandmother to remind her.
They hadn’t seen each other for a few days, so after discussing the appointment, they continued chatting.
His grandmother asked about their weekend trip to the farm and mentioned that Aunt Chen had insisted on having her over for dinner.
Lu Xuefeng listened, smiling. Aunt Chen was always so hospitable.
“Have you had dinner yet?” she asked.
Lu Xuefeng replied that they had eaten a while ago.
“What’s Xiao Song doing?”
Lu Xuefeng looked towards the balcony, where Song Muqing was watering the plants.
“He’s watering the flowers.”
Song Muqing, having finished watering the plants, turned around, meeting his gaze.
He tilted his head slightly, his eyes gentle.
Lu Xuefeng smiled back.
He continued chatting with his grandmother about everyday matters, about his husband, and when he looked up, his husband was right there, within reach.
It was a strange feeling; Song Muqing had become like family, so naturally and effortlessly.
Life was simple and warm.
Lu Xuefeng had never imagined such a life before.
His heart fluttered.
“Grandma,” he said suddenly.
“What is it, Xuefeng?” Deng Yuzhen asked.
“Nothing,” Lu Xuefeng paused, not knowing what to say, just a feeling he wanted to express, but he couldn’t articulate it.
“I just feel… content,” he said finally.
Deng Yuzhen, having expected something more significant, chuckled. “Yes, things are good now.”
Just then, Song Muqing walked over and sat beside him on the sofa.
Although Lu Xuefeng had said he wasn’t sore, Song Muqing still gently massaged his waist and shoulders, listening to him talk to his grandmother.
Lu Xuefeng felt a tickle when his hand touched his waist and instinctively squirmed.
“Don’t move. Let me massage you.”
Song Muqing lowered his voice, speaking softly so his grandmother wouldn’t hear.
Lu Xuefeng stopped moving.
The massage felt good, easing the slight ache in his muscles.
After ending the call, Lu Xuefeng turned to him.
“How about your stomach? Does it need a massage too?”
Song Muqing clearly knew he was just being stubborn; he knew Lu Xuefeng was sore.
He remembered everything from last night: how long they had been together, how many times, the different positions, the marks he had left on Lu Xuefeng’s body.
“My stomach doesn’t hurt,” Lu Xuefeng said.
Only his lower abdomen felt slightly uncomfortable. Song Muqing hadn’t entered him, but the constant friction had taken its toll.
But it wasn’t too bad; he would recover.
Song Muqing raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
He recalled a specific detail from last night. “But you said it was sore yesterday.”
He wasn’t referring to his stomach.
Song Muqing placed his hand on Lu Xuefeng’s lower abdomen, reminding him. “Right here. You were holding it when you said it.”
Lu Xuefeng was speechless, his face warming under Song Muqing’s gaze.
He hadn’t wanted to revisit those specific details.
He threw a small cushion at him.
“That’s because you…”
He trailed off, not finishing his sentence.
Song Muqing caught the cushion, a smile playing on his lips. “Because I what?”
Lu Xuefeng didn’t answer, and Song Muqing leaned in and kissed him.
The kiss deepened, his hand moving lower, and Lu Xuefeng, struggling to breathe, pulled away slightly. “Just once tonight, okay?”
“Hmm?”
Song Muqing’s response was noncommittal, almost as if he hadn’t heard him, his lips still on Lu Xuefeng’s.
Lu Xuefeng, maintaining his composure, tried not to get lost in the kiss.
“I want to rest early tonight,” he said. “I can’t be late again.”
He couldn’t handle another night like last night.
Song Muqing said, “You’re the director; who would dare to say you’re late?”
He was well aware of Lu Xuefeng’s position.
Although it was true.
Lu Xuefeng considered this. “It wouldn’t look good.”
Song Muqing chuckled softly, not quite believing his childish excuse. “Okay,” he agreed.
“And this,” Lu Xuefeng pulled the collar of his shirt aside slightly, revealing the marks on his neck, darker now, more visible.
Song Muqing raised an eyebrow. “What about it?”
“They haven’t faded.”
They probably wouldn’t fade by tomorrow either.
Song Muqing, perhaps intentionally, said, “You bit me too. Want to see? They haven’t faded either.”
Lu Xuefeng retorted, “I didn’t bite your neck.”
Song Muqing leaned closer, offering his neck. “You can bite me now.”
Lu Xuefeng pushed him away playfully. “I don’t want to bite you.”
Song Muqing smiled, his eyes crinkling, then stopped teasing him.
Lu Xuefeng finally got to the point, asking him not to leave such visible marks.
The weather was getting warmer, and Lan Xin had asked him if he was feeling hot in his high-necked shirt that afternoon. He had been too embarrassed to explain.
Song Muqing agreed readily, finding his serious expression endearing. He couldn’t resist kissing him again, a long, lingering kiss.
Then he carried him to the bedroom.
With their first time behind them, things progressed more smoothly.
Song Muqing found a more comfortable position for Lu Xuefeng, placing a pillow under him.
Lu Xuefeng thought hazily, Professor Song seemed to be a natural at this.
He was both intense and gentle.
Intense when he kissed him deeply, his movements forceful, gentle when he caressed him slowly, a sweet torture.
Lu Xuefeng couldn’t decide which he preferred, perhaps both.
Because both felt good.
So, the soft moans escaping his lips were a mixture of pleasure and shyness, a hint of protest when it became too intense.
Lu Xuefeng didn’t want any more visible marks, so Song Muqing found other places to bite.
Later, when Lu Xuefeng put on his pajamas, the soft fabric brushing against his skin made his chest ache.
As they neared the end, Lu Xuefeng bit down on the same spot where he had bitten Song Muqing before, deepening the mark.
This time, he remembered it clearly.
Song Muqing didn’t seem to feel any pain.
They were both sweaty, their breathing ragged.
Song Muqing held him close, their bodies warm against each other.
Lu Xuefeng closed his eyes, his face flushed, his eyelashes fluttering.
But not as intensely as they had trembled earlier.
“I’m sweaty,” he murmured, his breathing slowing. “I want to take a shower.”
He disliked the sticky feeling.
“Okay,” Song Muqing asked, “Does it hurt?”
He hadn’t been able to control himself at the end.
Lu Xuefeng shook his head slightly, wanting to say it felt good, but he was too embarrassed.
He leaned up and kissed Song Muqing’s lips, asking, echoing his earlier question, “Did it hurt when I bit you?”
“No,” Song Muqing smiled. “It felt good.”
That was the only sensation he had felt at that moment. Pain or pleasure, it all felt good.
Lu Xuefeng chuckled; biting him was useless; it didn’t make him stop, and it didn’t hurt.
But he used the opportunity to confess, “I felt good too.”
They took a bath together, enjoying the intimacy they hadn’t had time for after their first time.
Simply being close to each other felt blissful.
The warm water made Lu Xuefeng sleepy, and he quickly returned to bed, falling asleep.
Before drifting off, he thought that with enough sleep, he would wake up on time tomorrow.
But even with just “once,” he didn’t wake up on time.
