EIP 28

Yong Jin slowly pulled out from Zhou Jun who was still in an aftermath daze. Without the thing filling him inside, the semen shot into his hole began to flow out, soon wetting some area on the mattress. Yong Jin took off his sweat-soaked pants as well, and naked, reached for the cigarette box in his pocket. Zhou Jun felt the discomfort in his body and said in a hoarse voice, “I can’t believe you actually came inside.” Because his voice was so hoarse from the effects of their lovemaking, his tone wasn’t harsh enough. It didn’t sound like a complaint, but rather unintentionally seductive.

With a cigarette in his mouth, Yong Jin turned to look at him, his gaze falling between his legs: “Afraid of getting pregnant?” Zhou Jun’s face instantly turned bright red, a round of curses reaching the tip of his tongue before being swallowed back.

He sat up, reached out to snatch the cigarette from Yong Jin’s mouth, and took a drag of the post-coital smoke himself. He deliberately picked up Yong Jin’s white shirt and used it to wipe away the semen that kept flowing from between his legs.

“If Major General Yong could actually get me pregnant, it wouldn’t matter how many times you came inside. Unfortunately, your precious seed is too valuable to waste on me.” He carelessly tossed aside the garment stained with the “precious” semen, and supporting his somewhat sore waist, prepared to go take a shower.

His attitude was somewhat unpolite, but no one could expect a victim who had just been forced to greet their attacker with a smile. The room was still filled with the scent of passion, the pillows and sheets on the bed all out of place, revealing the beige mattress beneath. The bedsheet hung halfway off, lying on top of the stockings and crumpled cheongsam.

The jar of face cream lay upside down at Yong Jin’s feet, half of the white ointment melted into the carpet’s pattern. He took out a handkerchief and leisurely cleaned himself. Thinking of something, he smiled faintly, his expression soft and ambiguous.

Zhou Jun, who was in the bathroom, couldn’t see this smile. Perhaps it was better that he didn’t see it, or else he would have been even more angered.

The apartment had always been equipped with hot water pipes, but something must have gone wrong somewhere. The water that first came out was always rusty yellow with a fishy smell. Therefore, even though hot water was available, Zhou Jun usually paid porters to bring up hot water and fill the bathtub. But today he didn’t have that option. Not to mention there was still a naked man in the bedroom, he himself was covered in marks, he really didn’t have the face to let outsiders into the room.

Anyone with eyes could see what the two men in this room had done. Although it couldn’t be seen by others, and the beginning wasn’t very pleasant, the aftermath wasn’t very comfortable but the process itself was extremely pleasurable, enough to cloud one’s mind. Zhou Jun feared that if Yong Jin had asked him to do anything at that moment, he would have agreed, truly living up to the saying “dying beneath the peony flower.”

By the time the water from the pipes ran clear, Zhou Jun couldn’t be bothered with taking a leisure bath. He showered directly under the water, slowly washing away the sticky fluid between his legs. When the bathroom door was twisted open, he was still lathering his hair. Soap had gotten into his eyes, so he couldn’t open them, but he heard the lock being opened and closed. The presence of another person behind him made the bathroom feel cramped. The light was a dim, yellow hue, and the entire room was steamy, with the mist wrapping around Zhou Jun’s back like an intangible gauze. Even the bite marks and bruises on the his body seemed less distinct.

When Yong Jin embraced him from behind, Zhou Jun had only managed to rinse the soap from his face. He certainly knew what Yong Jin had come in for, and if conditions allowed, he wouldn’t mind going for another round. However, today was his first time, at least the first time he could clearly remember. Moreover, he had just cleaned out the semen inside him with great effort. If he was to be fucked and filled again, wouldn’t all his work have been in vain?

In the end, it was indeed all in vain. Yong Jin held him in the bathroom and inserted himself into Zhou Jun’s body again. Men always seemed to be like this. No matter what had happened before, once their bodies began to intertwine, they would be consumed by that fiery passion. They would throw caution to the wind, only stopping when that swollen thing turned bright red and the thick semen found its place. Yong Jin was like this, and so was Zhou Jun. Except his release ended up on the mirror and in the bathtub.

The battlefield moved to the bedroom, where he was pressed against the door. Desire was endless, and the pleasure was greater than anything. Sensation climbed inch by inch, over and over, as they erratically changed positions.

By the wall’s edge, he knocked over a picture frame. The glass in the frame cracked into a spider web pattern, a cold, eerie light. His foot was on tiptoe beside the frame, and the small cut from the phone fragments earlier had reopened under the strain. Blood flowed down to his ankle, the red contrasting starkly against his pale skin in a shocking sight. Yong Jin held him, pressed him against the foot of the bed, lifted his leg to lick the blood. He looked extremely handsome in the night, his sensual lips stained with Zhou Jun’s blood as he kissed him. He looked like a ghost or a demon, one that would haunt him until they went to hell together. This thought inexplicably floated through Zhou Jun’s mind, but before it could fully form, it was scattered by the fierce thrusting below.

Dazedly, he opened his fingers, reaching out to grab onto something. And indeed, he did. Yong Jin interlaced their fingers with his, tongue more passionately mixing the taste of blood into Zhou Jun’s mouth. They rolled off the bed, tangled in a sheet. It was saffron-colored, embroidered with intricate patterns and it wrapped around them like a flower bud. The entanglement of passion surging beneath, rising and falling like ocean waves, until those pale legs seemed unable to bear it anymore and poked out.

Zhou Jun reached his climax first. His legs tightly wrapped around the waist moving fiercely above him, violently convulsing before finally going limp.

He closed his eyes. He was too tired, exhausted to the point of dizziness. His last impression was of caressing Yong Jin’s waist before falling asleep. When Yong Jin finally stopped, Zhou Jun was already breathing deeply in sleep, his red cheeks covered by two fans of eyelashes that trembled slightly from time to time. He wasn’t sleeping peacefully. His body was covered in kiss marks and bruises, like a messy painting. Yong Jin was the artist, and he was very satisfied with the final product. He passed through Zhou Jun’s knees, supported his shoulders, and carried him back to the bed.

That bed could hardly be called a bed anymore. He covered their bodies with the still relatively dry blanket and fell asleep holding Zhou Jun and slept contentedly, forgetting all his troubles. Perhaps the sweet dream made General Yong let his guard down.

When he woke up, what greeted him was not the bird songs and fragrant flowers of early morning and a lover’s kiss. Instead, it was the bright noon sun and Zhou Jun in a bathrobe, pointing a gun at his head.

Zhou Jun, who had woken up, washed, and had breakfast, had regained his senses and sorted out the events. He held the gun in one hand, took the cigarette from his mouth, blew a puff of smoke in Yong Jin’s face, and said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “Awake? Did you sleep well?”

The man on the bed, with a gun pointed at him, calmly closed his eyes: “Not bad.” Zhou Jun continued to smile coldly. “This seems to be the second time you’ve pointed a gun at me, General. If I don’t return the favor, it would truly be discourteous of me.”

Yong Jin naturally replied: “You’re mistaken.”

Zhou Jun was stunned, not yet understanding his meaning, when he saw Yong Jin suddenly open his eyes. His hands moved like lightning, gripping and pulling. With a click, the gun changed hands, and Zhou Jun was pulled onto the bed, pinned beneath him. Yong Jin tossed the gun aside, licked his lower lip, and completed his sentence: “It’s the third time.” With that, he leaned down to claim a good morning kiss.

Zhou Jun, still uncomfortable from their lovemaking, was even more angered after being forcibly kissed. “The phone! Compensate me for the phone.”

Yong Jin got up from on top of him, consciously took out a piece of clothing from the wardrobe and put it on himself. Hearing Zhou Jun’s demand, he simply answered. “No.”

Zhou Jun hadn’t expected his request to be refused and was about to argue when he heard Yong Jin coldly laugh, uttering a string of German. The gist of it was clear: he was being told to behave and stop flirting around.