Chapter 35

By the time both of them were in bed, warm and cozy under the covers, Chen Ang had planned to do something. It had been a long time since he’d held Xu Heng like this. But his fever still hadn’t broken, his limbs remained weak, and the bed, rich with Xu Heng’s scent, felt like a soft trap that pulled him deeper into its embrace.

Xu Heng kissed his forehead and the tip of his nose.

“Go to sleep. Good night.”

Chen Ang drifted off almost instantly.

Even in sleep, he held Xu Heng tightly. They were pressed together chest to back, perfectly aligned, as if they were meant to fit this way. His breath was still warm, brushing against the nape of Xu Heng’s neck in steady, soothing intervals.

But Xu Heng had trouble falling asleep. He didn’t dare move, afraid of waking him. Eventually, some time late into the night, he finally dozed off without knowing what time it was.

He had a dream. It was disjointed and strange.

In the dream, he stood in a wide, open space, no barriers in sight. The wind that swept past carried a sharp, whistling chill. In front of him stood a crowd of people with blurred faces. He couldn’t make out who they were, but deep down, he knew. Among them were Chen Ang’s stern father, his elegant mother, his cold and poised sister, and other friends Xu Heng didn’t even know.

They all murmured among themselves, whispering things he couldn’t hear. Xu Heng looked down and realized he was completely naked, not a shred of clothing on his body, exposed to every eye in the room. Shame coursed through him, and he wished he could curl up and disappear, but he couldn’t move at all.

The scene shifted.

Suddenly, he was at a wedding. The bride and groom were walking down a long red carpet. He had become a flower boy, holding a basket of petals. The groom turned his face, and it was unmistakably Chen Ang.

Xu Heng’s basket tipped, and the petals poured out like a flood, swallowing him whole.

He struggled in the ocean of petals, trying to find something to grab, but there was nothing.

Somewhere in that dream, he realized it wasn’t real. He kicked and flailed in the darkness of sleep, desperate to wake up. When he finally did, he found himself lying in silence, eyes wide open, with nothing but the hum of the heater and Chen Ang’s breathing to accompany him.

He turned and slipped back into Chen Ang’s arms.

Chen Ang woke the moment he felt the movement. His arm tightened around him.

“What’s wrong…” he mumbled sleepily.

Xu Heng didn’t reply.

Chen Ang leaned in, kissed his face, and tasted something damp on his skin.

“You had a nightmare, didn’t you?” he whispered.

He gently pulled Xu Heng up from under the blanket, cupping his hands under his arms until Xu Heng’s face peeked out. His eyes were a little red, lips pressed together in silence.

Chen Ang sighed and kissed him. In the depth of that quiet night, it felt like only they and the stars were awake. The kiss stretched long, gentle and lingering.

Xu Heng melted into it. His arms and legs wrapped themselves around Chen Ang as he let him kiss him deeply, inch by inch, lifting his shirt, fingertips tracing over his skin.

Chen Ang was still running a bit warm. His hands were hotter than usual. The heat scorched along Xu Heng’s body, making him feel flushed. With his tongue tangled in Chen Ang’s, Xu Heng let out a soft, muffled moan.

Chen Ang undressed him completely. Xu Heng lay bare under the covers, his skin meeting the cool sheets, a delicious contrast that made him sigh, almost like a whimper, from how good it felt.

Chen Ang wasn’t in a rush at all. He touched Xu Heng’s body like a collector appreciating his favorite treasure in the dark.

His fingers moved from the smooth line of Xu Heng’s collarbone, to his chest where his nipples stood perked, then down to his slim but firm waist. Lower still, to the soft hair at the base of his cock. Chen Ang’s fingers brushed lightly over the swollen tip, already fully hard, before trailing back up and lingering at the tattoo on the inside of Xu Heng’s thigh, stroking over it again and again with a filthy kind of finesse.

Xu Heng responded like a finely tuned piano, his moans rising and falling with every note Chen Ang played. When his sensitive spots were touched, his voice cracked with a sobbing edge.

The night was the perfect veil for shame. Xu Heng lost all reason, spreading his legs and clamping them around Chen Ang’s waist, gasping like he was drowning.

“Put it in… come inside… mmn…”

Chen Ang slid off his pants and guided Xu Heng’s hand to hold the base of his cock. The wet, flushed head rubbed against the tight line of Xu Heng’s ass. He nipped at Xu Heng’s ear and whispered, voice low and hoarse, “You guide it in.”

Xu Heng was so desperate his toes curled. Eyes shut tight, he gripped Chen Ang’s cock and slowly pushed it in, inch by inch. There wasn’t enough slick, so the stretch came inch by inch. It was uncomfortable, almost too much, but every bit of pain came wrapped in a heavy sense of being filled, of being wanted.

When Chen Ang was finally buried to the hilt, he grabbed Xu Heng by the ankles and flipped him over, face down. The thick shaft twisted inside, pressing against every part of his inner walls. The bulging veins dragged over every corner. Xu Heng’s whole body gave out, melting into the bed as he moaned in broken rhythm.

Chen Ang leaned over him, reached under to hook his hands over Xu Heng’s shoulders, and with that undeniable strength, knelt above him and began to fuck him from behind, driving down, hitting deep. Xu Heng cried out on the first thrust, but Chen Ang swallowed the sound with a kiss, biting down, kissing like he was starving. His hips snapped faster, harder.

Xu Heng felt completely claimed.

The pleasure was blinding. Every time Chen Ang thrust in, the glans grazed Xu Heng’s prostate directly. The grip on his shoulders was so tight, Xu Heng felt like he was being torn apart and put back together all at once. It was as if Chen Ang was pouring all his anxiety, his fear, his desperation into every thrust, like Xu Heng was his last lifeline, and if he held on, he could claw his way out of everything, and soar.

Xu Heng whimpered, and they both came together.

Chen Ang was still inside him, his cock twitching as the last of his cum spilled out. Sweat soaked both of them. His arms wrapped tight around Xu Heng’s body as if afraid to let go.

Then, softly, he asked, “You’re going to Japan, aren’t you?”

His voice trembled, barely noticeable. Maybe it was the lingering weakness from the fever, maybe it was the rawness of what they’d just shared. But for that brief moment, Chen Ang, always dominant and in control, seemed like a nervous, careful boy.

And Xu Heng knew clearly, deeply, what had caused all of those emotions that should never have belonged to a man like Chen Ang.

And it made his heart ache.

The silence stretched long, as if a century passed between them. Xu Heng remained face down, still naked, the warmth of Chen Ang’s body lingering on his skin. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft.

It felt like a feather drifting through the wind.

“Yes.”