WP Chapter 45

Jiang Yibai was drunk, but his strength was unexpectedly immense. Si Shaorong’s wrist was gripped so tightly that finger-shaped bruises began to bloom. He inhaled sharply. He had never seen Jiang Yibai like this before. It felt both unfamiliar and heartbreakingly tender.

Still, something inside him remained tangled and uncomfortable. But when he looked into Jiang Yibai’s bloodshot eyes, something in him softened again. He didn’t want to keep arguing about who topped and who bottomed at a moment like this.

“No rush. I’m not going anywhere. Just let go of me first,” Si Shaorong said in a low, coaxing voice.

Jiang Yibai’s drunken, sluggish brain swayed a little. He blinked, then looked up at his lover.

Si Shaorong’s face was right in front of him. Jiang Yibai grinned stupidly and reached out to touch his cheek. Si Shaorong tilted his head and kissed him, taking the initiative. The two of them wrapped around each other and shared a kiss as gentle as it was deep.

It felt like countless unspoken feelings, too complicated for words, were tucked into that kiss. Jiang Yibai couldn’t get enough. One hand held Si Shaorong close, craving his response, while the other slipped in to tangle their tongues, mimicking the slow thrust and retreat of what would soon follow. The implication was unmistakable, every twist and pull soaked in heat.

Si Shaorong’s cheeks flushed pink, and the tips of his ears turned a vivid red.

His chest heaved. Jiang Yibai’s teasing had lit a fire in him. Hoarsely, he asked, “Wait. Did you bring anything?”

Jiang Yibai sat up. A silver string of saliva that hadn’t yet been swallowed slipped from the corner of his mouth, stretching as he pulled away. He reached for the drawer by the pillow. Si Shaorong tried to help, but the moment he moved, Jiang Yibai shoved him back down with no room for negotiation.

“Don’t move!” Jiang Yibai snapped. He even raised his knee to press threateningly between Si Shaorong’s legs. When Si Shaorong froze and didn’t dare move again, Jiang Yibai finally gave a satisfied grunt, opened the drawer, and pulled something out.

Si Shaorong squinted at it under the dim light.

A small box of condoms. A bottle of lube.

Jiang Yibai broke into a silly laugh. Si Shaorong didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “You really look like some sleazy thug about to force himself on a well-bred young man.”

Jiang Yibai reached out, hooked a finger under Si Shaorong’s chin, and slurred, “Then tonight, this thug’s gonna show you a real good time.” With that, he lazily bit the corner of a condom wrapper, popped open the bottle, and squeezed out a cold stream of lubricant. His drunken eyes gleamed with smug mischief as he raised his eyebrows at the man beneath him.

The chilly liquid splattered onto Si Shaorong’s lower abdomen, making him twitch instinctively.

Jiang Yibai wasn’t even pretending to be gentle. Fueled by alcohol and carelessness, he kneaded Si Shaorong’s waist, groping and squeezing as if nothing was quite satisfying enough.

Si Shaorong stared at the ceiling, panting hard. He licked his dry lips and asked, “Be honest with me. Have you really never, not once, been the one on the bottom?”

Jiang Yibai clicked his tongue. “Focus.”

Si Shaorong’s leg jerked from the stimulation, and his hips arched slightly, only to be pushed back down by Jiang Yibai.

The sensation of intrusion was too raw, too stark. That tight, unbroken place had never been stretched before, leaving both of them uncomfortably strained. Si Shaorong was hurting. Jiang Yibai was trying not to lose control.

“Relax,” Jiang Yibai said as he gave Si Shaorong’s firm ass a light slap.

Si Shaorong sucked in a sharp breath and stared up at the man doing whatever he pleased with him, disbelief written all over his face.

He had always treated Jiang Yibai with patience and care. That glare, sudden and edged with resistance, caught him off guard for a moment, and then a rush of carnal thrill surged through him so fiercely it made his scalp tingle.

Si Shaorong’s handsome face was painted with shame and discomfort, yet behind that embarrassment was a smoldering heat. His lips were slightly parted, tip of his tongue faintly visible, and a reddish flush had spread across his cheeks and even his forehead. He looked maddeningly enticing.

That one glare, not seductive in any typical sense, still stirred something deep and wicked. Jiang Yibai couldn’t help himself. He pushed in another finger.

Si Shaorong inhaled deeply. Veins tensed in his neck, and his fingers curled into the bedsheet, gripping tight.

“Shh,” Jiang Yibai leaned down to murmur, gently stroking the soft, limp cock. He ran his fingers up and down, circling the most sensitive spot, teasing with the lightest pressure. That cock twitched and slowly stood upright again, a bead of clear fluid slipping out.

A low moan rumbled from Si Shaorong’s throat, a sound too muffled to tell whether it was pleasure or pain. His head tilted back, body taut. Jiang Yibai kissed him, swallowing that broken moan into his mouth while coaxing him to relax.

By the time the fourth finger slid in, that place had gone soft and slick, pulsing with a readiness neither of them had voiced. Jiang Yibai was drenched in sweat. The alcohol had mostly worn off. He nipped at Si Shaorong’s earlobe with his teeth and gently rolled the tender flesh between them. Then he spread Si Shaorong’s legs wider and shifted forward.

“Relax. Exhale. Be good,” Jiang Yibai murmured, eyes locked onto his lover’s, “Look at me.”

Si Shaorong was covered in sweat as well. Jiang Yibai took his hand, made him slide the slick condom over his cock, then guided that same hand to hold his shaft and feel it as he entered.

“You—” Si Shaorong turned his face away, overwhelmed with embarrassment. But before he could let go, Jiang Yibai thrust in hard.

Si Shaorong gasped through his teeth, the pain turning his face pale.

“Relax. Breathe out… fuck,” Jiang Yibai hissed.

Even with all the prep, Si Shaorong’s insides were impossibly tight. His body was rejecting the intrusion instinctively, his muscles clamping down. Jiang Yibai turned white as well, wincing from the pain.

Hearing Jiang Yibai’s strained breath finally forced Si Shaorong to will himself into easing up. One hand lifted to stroke Jiang Yibai’s back in a quiet gesture of comfort.

Jiang Yibai stayed still, arms around Si Shaorong’s back as he kissed him softly. “Just give me a kiss. Just one kiss and I’ll be fine,” he mumbled.

The shamelessness of it made Si Shaorong want to laugh, though his chest ached with something unspoken. He turned to kiss him back, trying to distract himself from everything happening below his waist.

Moments later, he wanted to cry from frustration. His legs were starting to cramp.

Jiang Yibai lifted himself slightly and let go of the leg he had been pressing down the whole time.

His hands moved gently over Si Shaorong’s thighs and calves, kneading and coaxing him to relax. His hips kept up a shallow rhythm. For a while, the only sounds in the room were their strained, ragged breathing and the obscene, wet slap of skin against skin.

Si Shaorong stared at the ceiling and thought, How is this supposed to feel good? It was nothing like in the videos or comics. It just felt mechanical, the two of them moving without any real pleasure. Whatever passion he had started with was already being smothered.

He was gritting his teeth, enduring it like a punishment, when Jiang Yibai suddenly wrapped an arm around his waist and shoulder and flipped him over.

Si Shaorong blinked. What the hell?

Jiang Yibai hauled his hips up, forcing him into a kneeling position. The moment his knees hit the mattress, Si Shaorong instinctively tried to shrink away, but there was nowhere to run.

Jiang Yibai pressed his chest to Si Shaorong’s back. One hand reached around to grip his twitching erection, while the other locked tightly around his waist, making sure he couldn’t escape.

“You’re spacing out,” Jiang Yibai whispered next to his ear. “Looks like I’ve been way too gentle with you.”

Si Shaorong said nothing.

This position didn’t hurt as much. In fact, it almost felt easier. But the posture itself was embarrassing. He was just about to say something when Jiang Yibai pulled out slowly and slammed back in.

Whatever he hit inside made Si Shaorong’s mind go completely blank. His scalp tingled like it had been electrocuted, heat rushed through every vein, and his knees buckled. He nearly collapsed onto the bed.

Jiang Yibai held him tighter, driving his hips forward with fierce, relentless thrusts. Each one landed with a loud smack. Si Shaorong couldn’t hold it in anymore.

A short, broken cry slipped from Si Shaorong’s throat before he bit down hard, jaw clenched so tight the muscles stood out like they might snap. A flush bloomed at the corners of his eyes, like he was on the verge of tears.

Jiang Yibai grabbed his chin and turned his face, leaning in to kiss him. The position pressed their bodies together with no room in between. The depth was unbearable, and Si Shaorong’s instincts screamed at him to pull away.

“Don’t run,” Jiang Yibai growled against his ear, then lowered his head like a beast and sank his teeth into the tender skin at the back of his neck, feasting on his lover as if this were his rightful meal.

That small, involuntary flinch triggered something darker in him. Jiang Yibai’s hand clamped down hard on Si Shaorong’s ass, and his hips slammed forward with brutal force, one ruthless thrust after another. The slick mess soaking the dark hair of their lower abdomens only made the whole thing look filthier.

He had found the spot inside that made Si Shaorong fall apart. He slammed into it again and again, sometimes grinding against it, sometimes battering it with feral violence. Si Shaorong’s cock began leaking white fluid on its own. He shook his head wildly, voice cracking as he begged, “Don’t—Jiang Yibai! No—ah!”

His knees could barely hold him up. The smooth lines of his back muscles were pulled tight, trembling as Jiang Yibai leaned down to lick them one by one. His lips moved with almost reverent care, but the thrusts beneath were savage and unforgiving. Wet slaps echoed through the room.

Jiang Yibai gasped, then pressed Si Shaorong flat into the mattress. He spread his knees for better leverage and slammed back in before the man beneath him could catch his breath.

“You like that, baby? Feels good?”

“It’s too deep… wait—ah!”

“Hmm? What was that? You like it, don’t you?”

“Just… slow down… mm… ngh…”

Si Shaorong clutched the pillow so tightly that his fingers turned bone white. His chin lifted, exposing his throat, and Jiang Yibai caught hold of his Adam’s apple with his mouth. A flash of white exploded behind Si Shaorong’s eyes. He didn’t even know when it happened, but he had already come. His lower abdomen was smeared in sticky mess, his ears ringing, barely able to hear.

But Jiang Yibai didn’t stop.

He hauled him up and sat him on his lap, forcing his softened legs to bounce up and down on his cock again. Si Shaorong’s head was spinning. He clung to Jiang Yibai’s shoulders, his breath caught in his throat as Jiang Yibai kissed him in fragments, lips brushing his skin like a broken record.

His cock, freshly spent, was caught between their bellies and ruthlessly dragged back and forth. Jiang Yibai pushed him toward the corner of the headboard. “You’ve got stamina. Impressive.”

Si Shaorong cursed under his breath.

Pillows and blankets fell to the floor. The bed frame, sturdy and well-made, didn’t make a single sound even under the harsh, relentless rocking.

Their moans and gasps tangled together, breath chasing breath. When Jiang Yibai finally came, the insides of Si Shaorong’s thighs and his belly were already a complete mess.

“Feels good?” Jiang Yibai panted, grinning as he looked down at him.

Si Shaorong didn’t bother answering. Not a single word.

Jiang Yibai pulled out, slipped off the condom, and gave it a little shake, flashing the contents like a trophy.

Si Shaorong’s impression of how thick-skinned Jiang Yibai could be hit a new low. He lay there limp, rubbing at his sore waist, too drained to even lift a finger.

Jiang Yibai wiped himself down with a towel, then headed to the bathroom to get some hot water. He came back and carefully cleaned Si Shaorong up. The bed was a complete disaster zone. Jiang Yibai wrapped him in a blanket and carried him to the soft rug on the floor, letting him lean there while he went running around the room, still naked, his dick swinging between his legs as he dug through the cabinet for clean sheets.

He stripped the bed, dumped the filthy linens onto the floor, laid out fresh ones, then came back and scooped Si Shaorong up again, returning him to the bed.

Si Shaorong stared at Jiang Yibai bustling around so busily, looking downright attentive and domestic, like that reckless beast from just now had never existed.

He watched for a while, then reached out and said, “Water.”

Jiang Yibai ran off to get him a glass without a second thought.

“I’m hungry,” Si Shaorong added.

Jiang Yibai checked the time. The bar hadn’t closed yet. He threw on some clothes and rushed downstairs to the kitchen, bringing back grilled sausages and a bottle of milk.

Once Si Shaorong was fed and hydrated, he said, “I want a shower.”

Jiang Yibai didn’t show a trace of impatience. His eyes were still bright and eager, fixed on him like he was guarding a treasure. He wrapped him in a blanket and carried him off to the bathroom.

This was Li Xun’s private space, not really a proper home. The upstairs room had no bathroom. The only one was downstairs near the back kitchen, technically Li Xun’s personal restroom. Staff and customers didn’t use it.

Inside, there was a narrow shower room sectioned off with a sliding door. Jiang Yibai started to carry him down, but Si Shaorong struggled free, refusing to be manhandled again. He hobbled his way downstairs with Jiang Yibai helping him along.

The hot water soothed the soreness in his back and waist. After the shower, Jiang Yibai half-carried, half-dragged him back up the stairs.

Once they were under the covers, Jiang Yibai wrapped around him and rested his head on Si Shaorong’s shoulder.

Most of the alcohol had worn off by then. Jiang Yibai wasn’t sleepy anymore.

Si Shaorong lay there staring blankly into the dark, every part of him feeling strange and uncomfortable. He couldn’t stop wondering. Had Jiang Yibai really never bottom? Had he ever felt like this? What did he and that Zheng Yu… what had they done, exactly?

He knew thinking about it was pointless. The past was over. Jiang Yibai would never want to talk about it either.

But people always had a way of torturing themselves. So in the dead of night, exhausted and sore, Si Shaorong found himself going in circles, chasing questions that had no answers.

Jiang Yibai suddenly said, “I lied to you.”

Si Shaorong blinked. “What?”

Jiang Yibai chuckled. “I’m fine with top or bottom.”

Si Shaorong: “……”

Jiang Yibai licked the corner of his mouth. Truthfully, he wasn’t quite satisfied yet, but since it had been Si Shaorong’s first time, he knew he couldn’t push it any further.

He whispered, “Yours is too big. Honestly, I was a little scared.”

Si Shaorong: “……”

He felt ridiculous. His whole body still ached, and yet the moment Jiang Yibai said he was “big,” a familiar jolt of heat shot through his lower abdomen. That useless, limp thing between his legs even twitched, like it was about to slap the armrest of a wheelchair and stand back up for another round.

There were so many things Si Shaorong wanted to ask, but he worried it would kill the mood. He hesitated, lips parting and closing again.

But Jiang Yibai seemed to sense it anyway. He offered it up on his own. “I had a boyfriend in high school, and one in college too. If you’re asking how many guys I’ve dated… not counting Zheng Yu, probably four.”

Si Shaorong: “……”

He felt like a whole damn lemon tree had taken root in his chest, the sourness bubbling all the way to his throat.

Suddenly, it occurred to him that talking about exes right after sex was probably the worst idea imaginable.

Jiang Yibai turned him to face him, looked into his eyes, and asked, “Anything else you want to know?”

Si Shaorong hesitated. “Did it hurt… your first time?”

“Of course it hurt. It was a disaster,” Jiang Yibai snorted and kissed the tip of his nose. Wanting to make him feel better, he added, “We didn’t prep enough, and the guy was also a virgin. Couldn’t even get it in. When it finally went in, the pain was so bad I kicked him straight off the bed, pulled up my pants, and beat his ass in the corner.”

Jiang Yibai shrugged. “That was our breakup.”

Si Shaorong: “……” That might’ve been the most deranged breakup story he’d ever heard.

Jiang Yibai watched him with that same lazy smile, clearly waiting for another question.

Si Shaorong opened his mouth, then closed it again. It suddenly didn’t feel important. He realized he didn’t actually care about who had come first or what had happened in the past. Everything they experienced together, from each awkward moment to every uncertain step, was a first shared between the two of them. That alone was enough.

The thought gave him a quiet sense of relief. He kissed Jiang Yibai, yawned, and said, “Let’s sleep.”

Jiang Yibai raised an eyebrow, then smiled softly, as if he understood completely.

“You really are a treasure,” he murmured. He pulled Si Shaorong into his arms, and the two of them fell asleep wrapped around each other.

The next morning, Si Shaorong stared at the ceiling and thought, So this is what getting old feels like.

His body felt like it had been dismantled and barely put back together. His waist ached, the inside of his thighs were sore for no reason, and every time he tried to move, his muscles trembled like he had just run a marathon. He genuinely felt paralyzed.

He tried to sit up a few times but failed miserably. It was only when Jiang Yibai came back upstairs with food that he noticed something was off. Trying to hold back his laughter, Jiang Yibai reached out to help him, half-dragging, half-carrying him to the bathroom to wash up.

This was when the downside of having to go up and down stairs really hit him. Si Shaorong felt like the little mermaid in the old story, each step stabbing through him like walking on knives.

“You really need to exercise more,” Jiang Yibai said. “Start working out with me regularly, and you’ll be fine.”

The way he said “exercise” dripped with innuendo. Si Shaorong rolled his eyes, couldn’t be bothered to argue, and just sat downstairs after washing up, refusing to climb those stairs again. He waited while Jiang Yibai finished packing.

Jiang Yibai brought down both their phones, carried the trash upstairs, and texted Li Xun to send someone to pick up the filthy sheets for laundering.

It was early morning, and someone like Li Xun, who lived with his body clock flipped upside down was still fast asleep. There was no reply.

Jiang Yibai and Si Shaorong had breakfast together before leaving the bar. As they walked, Si Shaorong felt like he couldn’t quite close his legs properly. His gait had changed, almost like he was walking in a bow-legged waddle, and every so often he had to glance down at himself to check.

By the time they got home, he collapsed onto the couch and refused to move. Jiang Yibai rarely saw his boyfriend like this, weak and completely out of commission. He crouched in front of him, poking his nose and stroking his face, amused and a little guilty.

Si Shaorong didn’t respond. He lay there like a man in deep meditation.

After playing around enough, Jiang Yibai changed clothes, tied on an apron, and started buzzing about like a proper househusband. He boiled water for tea, stripped Si Shaorong’s clothes off to get them into the wash, leaving him sprawled naked on the couch. That thick, heavy cock of his was still dangling there. Jiang Yibai glanced down, swallowed hard, and quickly looked away.

He grabbed a light blanket from the bedroom and draped it over him, tossed the clothes into the washing machine, then went to the kitchen to make juice. He turned on the TV, and the room instantly felt more alive.

Jiang Yibai ruffled his boyfriend’s hair. “What do you want for lunch?”

“It’s still early. Sit down,” Si Shaorong mumbled, finally opening his eyes in a daze.

Seeing how tired he looked, Jiang Yibai said, “Go sleep in the bedroom. I’ll wake you when lunch is ready.”

Si Shaorong rolled over. The blanket slipped halfway off, exposing a constellation of hickeys across his skin, and bruises on his wrists, his waist, and the insides of his thighs. Jiang Yibai suddenly felt guilty, like he’d crossed the line into abuse. He cleared his throat and quickly tucked the blanket around him again, coaxing him softly. “Go rest. I’ll cook your favorite dishes. How about we order dry pot too?”

Si Shaorong made a small noise in agreement. Jiang Yibai helped him up and guided him into the bedroom. He slept straight through to noon.

The soft clatter of pots and dishes filtered faintly through the door, wrapping the room in a peaceful sense of comfort.

Si Shaorong stretched lazily and rolled over, only then realizing he was completely naked, and this wasn’t his own bedroom. He was in Jiang Yibai’s.

Shaorong had barely ever stepped into Jiang Yibai’s bedroom before. He looked around slowly and noticed a pile of comics stacked on the floor. Just one glance at the R18 rating stamped on the covers told him these were definitely not meant for innocent eyes.

He hugged Jiang Yibai’s pillow and took a deep breath. The familiar scent of his shampoo lingered faintly in the fabric. They said that comfort stirred desire, and after a good sleep, his body felt loose and light. His bare skin rubbing gently against the sheets left him feeling so relaxed it almost turned into something else.

That subtle tingle had barely begun when something across the room caught his eye. It was the top shelf of the glass-fronted bookcase.

He blinked, sat up, and stared harder.

They were magazines, a handful of them he had worked with years ago.

Those magazines had all shut down by now. In the age of fast-paced digital publishing, most of the older print quarterlies and annuals had folded or completely changed direction. Back when he contributed to them, he wasn’t particularly famous. He juggled magazine work with web fiction, switching between styles and genres constantly, with no fixed voice.

Aside from a few hardcore longtime fans, no one probably even remembered he had worked with those magazines. Let alone gone out of their way to collect every single issue, every one of them intact and accounted for.

Even he probably didn’t have all of them anymore.

The realization left him stunned.

Jiang Yibai had said from the beginning that he was a fan, but Si Shaorong had never imagined this was what he meant by “fan.”

He slipped out of bed, still wrapped in the sheet, and padded barefoot across the room. He opened the glass cabinet and pulled out a few of the magazines for a closer look.

He hadn’t misread them.

His magazine and web novel work had been published under different pen names. Years ago, he had casually mentioned the connection once on Weibo, just in passing. After that, to avoid complications, he never brought it up again.

That had to be… what, how many years ago now?