Chapter 22. Breakthrough Part 1

The paper bag in Lu Zhengming’s hand fluttered in the wind, the scent of candles trailing behind them all the way. It stirred something in him, an itch of anticipation, a touch of unease.

He had never played this wild before, nor was he particularly into these kinds of games. But he figured Yin Yan might enjoy it. With the store clerk watching, he had been too embarrassed to ask what colors or scents Yin Yan preferred. So, like picking out paint, he simply chose a few based on his own taste.

Their conversation drifted from Qingdao to Lu Zhengming’s knowledge of foreign techniques that used wax to create textures. Yin Yan said they could try it when they got back. Lu Zhengming shook his head, saying he had already tested it. Wax textures were too brittle for canvas. One touch and they crumbled into dust. They could only be used on wood or plasterboard.

Yin Yan didn’t respond, just looked at him with a knowing smile.

That was when Lu Zhengming caught on, and he chuckled.

“Didn’t expect that.”

Moments like this, lighthearted and easy, were rare between them.

The wind on the street was much gentler than by the sea. He found himself anticipating a kiss, and he knew Yin Yan would read it in his eyes.

But Yin Yan stayed put, not closing the distance at all. Lu Zhengming urged impatiently.“Hurry up, before someone sees.”

Yin Yan sighed, brushed his lips against Lu Zhengming’s in a fleeting touch, and then withdrew to where he stood before, close enough to walk together yet still keeping the distance of friends.

Lu Zhengming felt disappointed. That familiar sense of dissatisfaction surged up again, flooding his chest. He quickened his pace, trying to shake it off. But after a few steps, he realized Yin Yan hadn’t followed. The man was still strolling at his usual unhurried pace, his gaze drifting over the dimly lit street, lost in thought.

His restlessness cooled. When Yin Yan finally caught up, he slowed down to match his pace, walking side by side. Neither of them spoke again. They returned to the base in silence.

At least Yin Yan still remembered their agreement. After checking on the students and making sure everything was in order, the first thing he did upon entering their room was pull Lu Zhengming into his arms, pressing a compensatory kiss to his lips. It felt a little perfunctory, nowhere near what Lu Zhengming had been hoping for, but at least it was something.

He kissed with care, enough that Lu Zhengming almost felt touched. So he shut his eyes, blocking out the calm indifference in the other man’s gaze, pretending Yin Yan was just as eager as he was.

Their kiss deepened, growing messy as they stumbled into the bathroom. The hot water soaked into their skin, and desire began to swell in Lu Zhengming’s chest. He wanted their relationship to be warmer, like this steam-filled embrace. It felt too good, so good that he almost wanted to abandon that painful game altogether.

He could give him something better. Lu Zhengming was confident in his skills.

But Yin Yan had already placed something in his hand.

An old-fashioned folding razor.

Lu Zhengming had only ever seen something like this in movies. Barbers gliding the blade along a customer’s throat, one careless slip away from disaster. Yin Yan used it regularly, the sharp edge tracing over his face and neck, carrying a dangerous kind of allure. Every time Lu Zhengming saw it, he had the urge to lean in and run his tongue over the skin it had touched.

Now, it lay in his palm. The wooden handle was warm, the blade cold as ice. And Yin Yan stood before him, completely bare, offering himself up without resistance.

Lu Zhengming felt a little nervous. It had been too long since he last used a straight razor, especially one this unguarded. The fact that Yin Yan handed it to him wasn’t just an act of trust. It was a temptation, sharp and deadly.

He took a deep breath, lathered the soap, and spread the foam over Yin Yan’s face and neck. His skin was smooth, barely any stubble at all. Lu Zhengming wasn’t here to shave him anyway. This was a ritual. Just like Yin Yan’s reason for using this blade. It wasn’t for practicality but for the feeling of it.

He ran his fingers over Yin Yan’s cheek. The texture was soft, slick with soap. Then he pressed the blade against it.

Yin Yan’s Adam’s apple bobbed. It was hard to tell if it was from nerves or excitement.

Lu Zhengming tilted the razor upright and made the first stroke along his sideburn.

That pure, satisfying smoothness, he could never experience it on his own skin. The sensation made his fingers itch. He let the blade slide down along Yin Yan’s jaw, the edge resting against the artery, pulse tapping against steel.

“You’re insane.”

Lu Zhengming sighed. He knew that, to Yin Yan, this was a compliment.

Yin Yan chuckled. The motion pulling at the skin of his neck, sinking the blade in just a little deeper.

Lu Zhengming immediately snapped the razor shut, gripping it so tightly that the edges dug into his palm. The urge to bite down on that patch of skin, to suck until he drew blood, was almost unbearable. He wanted to see if the blood running through Yin Yan’s veins was really human.

But instead, he turned on the shower, rinsing the soap from his skin.

Lathering up fresh foam, he pushed Yin Yan to sit on the sink and met his eyes. “Get hard.”

He pressed the flat of the razor against Yin Yan’s abs, tapping lightly, letting the cold steel send shivers through him.

Yin Yan’s breathing grew heavier. His cock stiffened, his balls drawing up tight beneath it. Lu Zhengming slid the back of the blade underneath, flicking it up with a teasing little motion like he might slice it clean off.

Yin Yan flinched instinctively.

Lu Zhengming smirked.

He spread the foam over him, rubbing it in. He used Yin Yan’s own pubic hair to work up more lather, watching as the thick suds spread over his skin.

Yin Yan looked down at him, at the way he toyed with his body like it was a game, and let out a slow breath.

Lu Zhengming took that as his cue to get serious. He gripped his jaw and kissed him deeply.

His mouth was busy, but so were his hands.

His strokes were skilled, deliberate, slick with soap. Yin Yan tilted his head back, sucking in sharp breaths. The glide was too smooth, Lu Zhengming’s pace too fast, pleasure climbing in rapid waves.

A ragged moan escaped him. His cock twitched violently in Lu Zhengming’s grasp, his orgasm already crashing down on him.

Lu Zhengming let go, leaving him teetering on the edge of release.

Yin Yan pressed close, hooking an arm around his neck, kissing him messily, desperately. He sucked on Lu Zhengming’s tongue, refusing to let go, his enthusiasm utterly unlike his usual self.

Lu Zhengming had waited too long for this. He kissed back with reckless abandon, nearly forgetting about the real feast to come.

Gasping for breath, he forced himself to pull away, ordering Yin Yan to stay still. Then, he pressed the razor against his lower abdomen.

He shaved away a strip of hair. Lifting the blade, he showed Yin Yan the strands clinging to the steel.

Yin Yan’s face burned. The sensation was far more humiliating than he’d expected, so much so that he almost couldn’t bear to look.

Lu Zhengming turned him toward the mirror, pulling him back against his chest. “Watch,” he commanded, forcing him to witness every motion.

The coarse hair that symbolized adulthood fell away in soft tufts. Stripped bare, his lower body looked almost juvenile, except no child would have such a monstrous erection.

Lu Zhengming spread his legs apart, showing no mercy as he shaved him down to the root. He didn’t stop at the groin. He took his time, scraping away every last bit of hair from his perineum to the sensitive skin around his entrance. The blade glided over the most delicate places, its chill biting against heat-flushed flesh.

Each exposed patch of skin was another blow to his pride. Horror and shame intertwined, but Yin Yan’s arousal never waned. It swelled, pulsing, leaking steadily, betraying his excitement.

Time blurred. Finally, Lu Zhengming washed away the foam and stray hairs with the showerhead.

“Beautiful,” he murmured against Yin Yan’s ear. “Makes it look even bigger…”

His hand wrapped around his cock again, fingers slick with something, maybe lotion, precome, or even remnants of the shaving cream. Whatever it was, it was cold at first, then quickly warmed with friction.

Yin Yan’s mind spun, his legs barely supporting him. His lower body had turned into a trembling mess.

Lu Zhengming’s touch drifted lower, those slippery fingers pressing down, teasing their way inside.

Yin Yan gasped into his mouth, too lost in the kiss to realize he’d already let him in.

His body tightened.

It hurt a little, or maybe not at all. He tried clenching down, trapping that intruding finger, only to realize it wasn’t all that uncomfortable. It was even… pleasant, catching him completely off guard. Lu Zhengming pushed in deeper, firm yet patient, and his kiss followed suit. A flush crept up Yin Yan’s neck and chest as he unconsciously surrendered to the invasion, be it the tongue or the hand.

He couldn’t explain what this was. He’d never felt pleasure from an act like this before, but his body’s reaction left no room for doubt. This was pleasure, and he was seconds away from crumbling beneath it. His cock wouldn’t stop leaking, dribbling like he’d lost control, and Lu Zhengming’s fingers were no longer enough. He groped blindly at him, his gaze burning with hunger.

He wanted him inside. Wanted it so badly he felt lightheaded. The emptiness inside him had hollowed him out, gnawing at him until nothing else mattered. Any line he once had, any boundary, could be discarded.

Lu Zhengming could see the desire in hos eyes. But he wanted him to feel the full extent of pleasure, wanted him to drown in it, even if it meant torturing himself with restraint. He funneled all of his own need into his hands, working him over with every ounce of skill he had.

Yin Yan could only cling to him, shuddering uncontrollably. The pleasure sharpened, seeping into every nerve, relentless and all-consuming, so deep that when it finally took him, he blacked out entirely.

When he came back to himself, his mouth was filled with the taste of blood. Lu Zhengming’s forearm was bleeding. But he barely seemed to notice. He held Yin Yan close and kissing him feverishly, easing him through the aftershocks bit by bit.