Chapter 51
Song Shuci obediently closed his eyes.
Jian Wu looked up at him. Song Shuci’s facial features were well-defined, his thick, dark eyebrows like painted ink, his eyelashes resting calmly and quietly on his eyelids, occasionally fluttering with his breath.
It had been a long time since he had carefully examined this face under bright light. Although so many years had passed, he had to admit, when he truly looked at this face, the emotions it stirred within him were no different from four years ago.
His heart still raced.
Jian Wu was silent for a moment, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He gripped the edge of the chair, held his breath, and tentatively kissed him.
His lips were slightly cool to the touch.
Unlike his previous initiative, Song Shuci didn’t move his lips this time, just kept his eyes closed, letting him take the lead.
Although Jian Wu had taken the initiative before, after so long, in such a subtle and ambiguous atmosphere, without Song Shuci’s cooperation, he was so nervous that his mind felt a little deprived of oxygen.
He pinched his fingers, tentatively touching, licking, and nibbling at those soft lips. Because they were so close, his vision was blocked. He only felt Song Shuci’s stillness, not seeing the deepening blush on his ears.
Finally, the thirty-second countdown in his mind ended. He breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back slightly, preparing to end this awkward moment. But just as he took a deep breath, Song Shuci suddenly reached out, cupped the back of his head, and stopped his retreat.
“Song—”
He only had time to let out a gasp before the man, while kissing him, lifted him from the chair and onto the desk.
The movement was too sudden, and he accidentally knocked over the chair.
The swivel chair was heavy, and despite the carpet cushioning the fall, it still made a dull thud against the floor.
Jian Wu leaned over to look, but Song Shuci pushed him back down, pinned his hands, and invaded his mouth, leaving no room for escape.
The warmth on his wrists was scorching, his feet dangling in the air, making him feel inexplicably anxious. Jian Wu’s legs flailed, and Song Shuci’s hand slid up his leg and gripped his waist.
The man’s chest pressed against his, the physical contact combined with the trembling in his chest from his racing heart made Jian Wu’s mind buzz. The cold desk beneath him was like a subtle hint, making his heart and mind race, even distant memories flooded back in the chaos—
The summer he turned eighteen, also at this desk. Song Shuci, under the excruciatingly slow internet speed, was checking his university admission status. Jian Wu, beside him, wanted to look but didn’t want to look, until Song Shuci jumped up and spun him around, “A University of Technology! Your first choice! You got in!”
“You got in” meant a perfect ending to high school.
Jian Wu was excited along with him, but the feeling of being lifted off the ground made him uneasy, and he repeatedly patted his shoulder: “Put me down! Put me down first!”
But Song Shuci carried him onto the desk, placed his hands on either side of him, and kissed him.
Song Shuci always loved to kiss him on the desk, because he always got carried away when kissing, but his neck would get tired from bending down for too long. The height of this desk was just right, making it comfortable for both of them, no matter how long they kissed.
They were especially passionate that day, perhaps because they were temporarily free from pressure, perhaps because they could finally study in the same city and see each other every day. They had been separated for a year and had accumulated too many emotions to express.
Eighteen-year-old young men were full of passion, and this kiss was a catalyst, their long-suppressed emotions erupting in an instant. At the peak of passion, he leaned against Song Shuci’s shoulder, panting, and Song Shuci’s hand rested on his lower back, asking him: “Can we?”
He nodded slowly, his head buried in his shoulder, and Song Shuci carried him to the bed.
The first time was a little painful, but Jian Wu barely remembered the pain. He only remembered it was daytime when they rolled into bed, and it was already dark when they finished. He was exhausted, his mind blank. The empty bottle of lubricant was tossed on the bed, the sheets stained with something. Song Shuci held him, kissing his fingers one by one.
“You’re not focused.”
Song Shuci bit his Adam’s apple, pulling Jian Wu back from his memories.
Before he could find an excuse for his distraction, Song Shuci suddenly touched him where he was aroused. Jian Wu couldn’t help but tremble, a soft moan escaping his lips. He heard Song Shuci ask in a low, hoarse voice beside his ear: “What are you thinking about? You’re so excited.”
Jian Wu, slightly embarrassed, turned his head away to avoid his question.
Song Shuci pulled him closer, his embrace tightening.
The playing cards on the desk scattered from the movement. Song Shuci held his hand, their fingers intertwined, and kissed him forcefully.
Soon, the light kisses were no longer confined to his lips. Song Shuci kissed his nose, eyes, and forehead, then moved down to his neck, gently biting and sucking on his skin. The tingling pain and itch spread from his neck to his chest.
Jian Wu clutched his shirt, and Song Shuci suddenly ended the kiss.
He saw Song Shuci staring at him for a moment, then pulled up a chair and sat down in front of him.
The chair was lower than the desk, so he could look down at Song Shuci’s face from this angle. He lowered his gaze slightly, about to ask what he meant, but before he could speak, Song Shuci suddenly rolled his chair forward, then, with practiced ease, parted his legs, grabbed his calves, and pulled him closer.
The desk and Jian Wu’s pants were both smooth, the friction minimal. Song Shuci’s grip was strong, and Jian Wu couldn’t resist, sliding towards him.
Jian Wu’s eyelashes fluttered. He braced himself with his hands behind him, subconsciously trying to close his legs, but Song Shuci leaned forward, using his shoulder to keep them apart.
He heard the sound of a zipper, then a wet touch.
Song Shuci leaned over the desk, like perusing study materials or academic papers, exploring him.
The muscles in Jian Wu’s legs and abdomen tensed. He bit his wrist to prevent himself from making a sound. In fact, he didn’t know what to say. Everything was happening too fast, too unexpectedly, making his mind go blank.
When Song Shuci looked up, he could only see his damp eyes and sweaty forehead. Thick fluid trickled down his face, the moisture making his eyebrows and hair appear even darker, even his eyelashes were damp and clinging together. The handsome man’s face carried a look of infatuation. He casually wiped his face with a tissue, then stood up and lifted him again.
The desk, which had been warmed by Jian Wu’s body, was once again separated from him. In the midst of the dizziness, his back landed on soft bedding.
Their noses touched, their breaths mingling. Jian Wu smelled himself on Song Shuci’s face.
He gripped the sheets, his eyes falling on Song Shuci’s hand on his waist, and swallowed.
“You didn’t change your clothes, you didn’t shower,” his voice was a little hoarse, “You said it’s unsanitary to get into bed with outerwear on.”
Song Shuci seemed amused, but the intense desire on his face made his chuckle even more intoxicating.
“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything, I didn’t buy any lubricant… it’ll hurt.” He zipped up his pants and sat back down at the desk. “Rest for a bit.”
The bedroom was quiet, so quiet that every breath was audible.
The ceiling light was too bright. Jian Wu covered his eyes with his arm, blocking the light and also the emotions in his eyes.
“Knock, knock, knock—”
About five minutes later, a knock came at the wooden bedroom door. Jian Wu’s heart skipped a beat, and he quickly sat up and smoothed the sheets.
“Xiao Wu, are you in there?” It was Jian Yu’s voice.
“Yes,” Jian Wu glanced at Song Shuci.
Song Shuci pulled his jacket slightly to cover himself and wiped his face and collar with a tissue. He noticed Jian Wu looking at him and looked back, his eyes flickering.
He pointed at his neck, and Jian Wu immediately understood, looking around for a scarf. But it was almost summer, where would he find a scarf? Just as he was panicking, Jian Yu spoke again: “Can you open the door?”
Jian Wu quickly made an excuse: “Wait a minute, I’m changing.”
“Is Xiao Song also there?”
“…Yes.”
Jian Wu didn’t know what his mother understood from the information “He’s changing in the bedroom while Song Shuci is also there.” He heard his mother pause for a moment, then change her words: “Then you two have fun.”
“Is, is there something wrong?”
“Nothing much,” Jian Yu said through the door, “It’s just the wintersweet tree on the balcony, I told you about it last time, it’s grown too big, there’s not enough space on the balcony. I was afraid you forgot, so I’m reminding you again, remember to find a place to transplant it.”
“Oh, I know, I’ve already found a place, we’ll… we’ll move it today.”
“Okay,” Jian Yu said, “Then I’ll be going.”
“Mm…”
Hearing Jian Yu’s receding footsteps, Jian Wu finally breathed a sigh of relief. There was no mirror in his bedroom, so he took out his phone, opened the front camera, and looked at his neck.
Several red hickeys marked his fair skin.
“Fuck…” He lightly kicked Song Shuci, “How am I supposed to go out now?”
“Two options,” Song Shuci looked at him, “Either we stay here until they’re asleep, or…” he started unbuttoning his shirt, “You wear mine, it has a collar.”
“Forget it, forget it,” Jian Wu opened his wardrobe, “I should have other clothes.”
But his wardrobe clearly wasn’t very helpful. Most of his clothes were at his own apartment. There weren’t many clothes in this wardrobe to begin with, plus, he didn’t like collared shirts. After searching for a long time, he only found his high school uniform…
After a moment of hesitation, he took it out.
“Turn around,” he said to Song Shuci.
Song Shuci obediently turned around. When he turned back, he saw the love of his student days. The bright red short-sleeved polo shirt made Jian Wu look especially youthful, as if time had turned back.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Song Shuci’s gaze was too intense, making Jian Wu slightly embarrassed.
“Nothing,” Song Shuci’s eyes fell on his red and white uniform, “I just suddenly realized you’ve never… you know… with me while wearing your school uniform.”
“…” He shouldn’t have said anything.
He glared at Song Shuci, threw him a pack of wet wipes, and opened the door, preparing to go to the balcony to check on the wintersweet tree.
After taking a step, he came back and, as if not reassured, emphasized to Song Shuci: “Remember to wipe your face clean before going out.”
Song Shuci took out a wet wipe, looked at the young man’s flushed ears and his downcast gaze, avoiding his eyes, and chuckled softly: “Okay.”
