Deep in the Act: Chapter 26

Blood dripped from his nose, falling onto his suit jacket. Fang Chi leaned his head back. Gao Zhun sat beside him, less than ten centimeters away, his whole body trembling. Fang Chi grabbed his hand and asked the driver, “Sir, could you roll down the window a bit?”

“Are you kidding? All the air conditioning will escape.” The taxi driver was a middle aged man, slightly balding, watching him warily through the rearview mirror, afraid he would get blood on the seat covers.

Gao Zhun leaned his body toward him, wanting to get closer but not daring to. Fang Chi simply pressed the window button. “I’ll double your fare.”

The driver was unhappy but didn’t stop him. He just muttered spitefully, “Oh my, all kinds of people. Must be out of his mind.”

The car had been called by Gao Zhun. He wanted to get home early, to get Fang Chi patched up as soon as possible. He had even forgotten his fear of cars. The cramped space, the sealed windows, he couldn’t help but think back to that midnight, the man on top of him, the pain in his rear… Strong arms wrapped around him. He jerked his head up. It was Fang Chi. His tense nerves relaxed. “Don’t… he’ll see…”

His voice was so soft only the two of them could hear. He was talking about the driver. Fang Chi held his waist and pulled him into his arms. “Who cares about him? He has nothing to do with us.” He turned sideways, using his chest to completely envelope Gao Zhun, his hand resting on his back, stroking slowly. “Feeling any better?”

Gao Zhun was pressed against his chest. That tight, restraining force made him relax. Just thinking that this embrace belonged to Fang Chi, he could be as quiet as a baby. “Don’t let go,” he whispered. “Even if you break me apart, don’t let go.”

Fang Chi’s chin rested against his temple, rubbing against it now and then. “I won’t let go. You know I won’t let go of you.”

The streets were still lively at this hour. Neon lights of every color lined both sides of the road. Those bright lights shone into the car window, falling onto the two of them. As the taxi crawled through traffic, the lights shifted and changed in a thousand ways. The driver stole glances in the rearview mirror like he was watching some exotic spectacle. Two grown men, dressed in suits, clinging to each other all lovey dovey, whispering into each other’s ears. He spat out a contemptuous “pah” in his heart and called them “fairies.”

When they reached the entrance of Gao Zhun’s residential compound, Fang Chi greeted the security guard, and the car was let through. They all knew him. Every night when he dropped Gao Zhun off, they would even greet him warmly: “Dr. Fang is back.”

After paying the fare, Gao Zhun helped Fang Chi upstairs. Fang Chi wasn’t seriously injured, but he was enjoying being waited on hand and foot, like a hero who had rescued a beauty enjoying the beauty’s adoration. Out of the elevator, finding the keys, opening the door, Gao Zhun practically placed Fang Chi on the sofa with the utmost care. He didn’t even bother changing his shoes before going to look for the first aid kit. Calling it a first aid kit was generous. It really only had some rubbing alcohol and band aids.

Beneath Arcimboldo’s massive painting, on the black leather sofa, Gao Zhun propped up one leg, leaning forward to cup Fang Chi’s face. With small tweezers, he held an alcohol swab and gently dabbed at the wound. His body leaned in close. His breath was warm.

Before him was a fragile Adam’s apple, and a thin chest. The collar was open, casting a triangular shadow under the spotlight’s yellow light. Fang Chi swallowed. His two hands rested on Gao Zhun’s slender hip bones. He felt the flesh beneath his palms shudder. He said guiltily, “Careful,” and then there was a sharp pain on his brow bone, cool and stinging. “You artists sure have heavy hands.”

It was meant as a joke, but Gao Zhun apologized. “I’m sorry…”

His hands pressed at the end of the hip bones, then climbed up the waistline. Fang Chi wanted to stop, but because of the atmosphere or something else, he couldn’t. Gao Zhun’s ribs were small and protruding, twisting under his touch. When his thumb lightly scraped across them, Gao Zhun melted toward him inch by inch, until his soft belly collapsed against him, circled by Fang Chi’s arm.

The room was so quiet it was frightening. You could hear Gao Zhun’s ragged breathing and the sound of engines passing by in the distance. Gao Zhun went limp, wrapping his arms around Fang Chi’s neck. The smooth skin beneath his shirt was only a hair’s breadth from Fang Chi’s lips. Fang Chi knew he was playing with fire. This fire had been smoldering for some time. Should he let it blaze up? Just as he was drifting in a haze of desire, Gao Zhun said tremblingly, “Don’t leave, okay?”

Don’t leave? Stay and do what? Fang Chi almost sobered up in an instant. He loosened his stiffly locked arms and shifted, trying to get up from the sofa. Gao Zhun wouldn’t let him, holding on tight. “It’s too late. There are no more taxis.”

“It’s fine. I’ll call one.” Fang Chi stood up.

“I’m scared. I’m really scared,” Gao Zhun desperately clutched one of his arms. “At night I keep the lights on all night. I don’t dare close my eyes. I curl up in the corner of the bed like a mental patient. When those memories haunt me, all I can think about is you!”

He was crying, so pitiful, so helpless. Fang Chi suddenly couldn’t bear it. Using the force of Gao Zhun pulling him, he pulled the man back into his arms. “I’ll call you when I get home. I’ll stay with you on the phone. We’ll talk until dawn…”

“No, I don’t want that!” Gao Zhun shook his head like a child throwing a tantrum. “Stay. I beg you…”

Fang Chi, just like that day in the clinic, tilted his head and kissed Gao Zhun’s forehead. It was slick and cool, needing another person’s body heat to warm it. “No,” he pushed him away. “I have to go back.”

Gao Zhun clung to him. “Don’t go. I’ll give you anything you want.”

Fang Chi turned his face away, looking toward the door. Gao Zhun pulled at him with everything he had, looking utterly without dignity. “I promise I’ll listen to you. I beg you…”

“Let go of me.” Fang Chi’s voice suddenly turned severe. In that instant, he became that great doctor who controlled people’s hearts again. Gao Zhun sobbed, making a last ditch effort. “No, I won’t let go…”

“Tonight only, or every day from now on. You choose.” This was a naked threat. Fang Chi had been pushed to his limit. For a psychologist, using a threat meant he had no better method left.

Gao Zhun’s hands indeed loosened their grip. Fang Chi gently pulled free from those hands. There seemed to be a brief hesitation, but in the end he strode quickly toward the door.

The next evening, Fang Chi stood before his desk. The sunset had come especially early that day. The city was shrouded in a purplish red haze. He glanced at his watch. Five thirty on the dot. Knock knock knock. Someone was knocking behind him. He knew that even after being rejected and hurt, Gao Zhun still couldn’t leave him.

He opened the door. A refined suit. Neatly combed black hair. Gao Zhun stood straight outside the door. His eyes were swollen, like a heartbroken girl. “You knew I would come, didn’t you,” he began abruptly. “So you waited for me. You know I can’t run away from the palm of your hand…” He bit down hard, looking hateful. “Is playing with me that much fun?”

There was no more direct accusation than this, yet Fang Chi wasn’t afraid. He didn’t need to explain or apologize to him. He simply slowly closed the distance between them. Secretary Li had already left work, so he embraced him right at the doorway, using tender fingers to touch his swollen eyelids. “You cried?”

Gao Zhun was like a shy puppy, trying to dodge his fingers. But even the wildest puppy will submit to its owner’s touch. He just trembled and endured it. Fang Chi asked gently, “Did you cry thinking of me?”

Gao Zhun was stubborn, saying nothing. Fang Chi asked again, “Do you hate me now?”

Gao Zhun’s lips began to quiver. He glared at him pitifully. Fang Chi cupped his face. “Still not talking? You have such a cruel heart…”

Gao Zhun finally couldn’t hold out anymore. He buried his head in Fang Chi’s chest, his voice choked with tears. “Stop toying with me, okay? Don’t pull me close and then push me away. I can’t take it…”

Fang Chi used his thumb to wipe away his tears, coaxing him. “How could I push you away? It’s just that sometimes… I’m so scared I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re lying,” Gao Zhun grabbed his palm and pressed it to his lips. “You wouldn’t be confused. You wouldn’t be scared…” The more he thought about it, the more he felt hate. He bit down hard on the fleshy base of Fang Chi’s thumb. Fang Chi wasn’t prepared for it. He cried out in pain, looking at him in shock.

Gao Zhun showed no sign of backing down. On the contrary, he glared with his two big eyes, his tender heart filled with a fierce challenge. That expression was vivid and beautiful, with a bone scraping kind of allure, making Fang Chi feel a surge of impulse. He wanted to tear open his collar, pin down his neck, and ravage him roughly.

Gao Zhun sensed his impulse. It was some kind of chemical signal, making him wait obediently, even slightly pouting his lips, looking like he was in heat. Likewise, Fang Chi also caught his surging desire. This was a turning point. He could either rein in the horse at the edge of the cliff, or sink deep into the mud. “Let’s start the treatment,” he suddenly said. “Take off your jacket. Lie down on the chair.”

For a few seconds, Gao Zhun didn’t understand what he was saying. It wasn’t until Fang Chi let go of him and walked toward the treatment chair that he realized he was retreating again. “I’m seducing you… aren’t I?”

“Nonsense,” Fang Chi laughed it off. “You’re just emotionally unstable. You don’t even know what you’re doing.”

“No,” Gao Zhun denied it firmly. “I am seducing you.”

“You’re straight. I’m straight. There’s no such thing as seducing,” Fang Chi finished setting up the treatment area and patted the large red recliner. “Come. Come over here.”

Gao Zhun was expressionless. He took off his jacket and threw it on the desk. With a swish he pulled off his tie and let it drop to the floor. “As you wish.”

Gao Zhun lay down before Fang Chi, with something of a sacrificial meaning. His neck bent slightly to one side, looking exactly like a martyred saint in a classical oil painting. “Abdominal breathing, right?” He swiftly undid his shirt buttons. His hand went down to undo his belt, but Fang Chi grabbed it. “No. Today we’re doing eye movement desensitization exercises.” His hand held on for a long time, showing no sign of letting go. “Relax. Entrust yourself completely to me.” Those hands were hot, covered in sweat. “During the assault, what scared you the most?”

Hearing the word “assault” so suddenly, every muscle in Gao Zhun’s body tensed. He looked at Fang Chi resentfully, suspecting he had done it on purpose. “Because of this, right? I’m not clean anymore. I’m not good enough for you?”

Fang Chi sighed. “Mr. Gao, we’re in the middle of treatment…”

“Treatment, and you’re holding my hand?” Gao Zhun pressed on aggressively. “You’re holding my hand like a lover…” His eyes reddened, tears gathering in them. “And all those things you did before… Now I can’t leave you. I think about you every moment. Do you feel very proud of yourself!”

Fang Chi chose to evade. “I need you to recall an image. A representative image from your traumatic experience…”

“Do men have chastity too?” Gao Zhun cut him off mercilessly. “If I hadn’t been assaulted, if I were fine, would you have been willing!”

“If you hadn’t been assaulted, we never would have met,” Fang Chi said rationally and logically, looking at him coldly. “If you hadn’t been assaulted, you wouldn’t even spare me a glance. You’re a peacock, proudly living in your own clouds.”

Gao Zhun was stunned, one could even say speechless. Fang Chi had clearly overdone the self disclosure. As a psychologist, his emotional management was a failure. “Alright, let’s continue.” He let go of Gao Zhun’s hand and wiped the sweat clean on a tissue. “Think back to your traumatic experience. So many frightening images. Find the one you most want to get rid of.”

Gao Zhun’s heart was in turmoil. This was the first time Fang Chi had spoken his feelings, though restrained, but there was a sense of obsessive longing in his words. It was almost enough for Gao Zhun to be certain that he had feelings for him too. “They… they’re all terrifying. They’re like slow motion replays. Every frame I want to get rid of.”

“Then the most terrifying one?” Fang Chi deliberately asked indifferently, but his jealousy was barely concealed. “Like when he pinned you down like an animal? When he hit you roughly, pulled off your pants?” After a brief pause, he said, “Or when he entered you. Or maybe when you uneasily reached climax.”

Gao Zhun felt every sentence was a slap across his face. Terror, anger, humiliation. “Probably… when he pushed inside.”

“Pushed inside.” Fang Chi was wounded by his choice of words. “Alright. I need you to recall that image.” He stretched out his hand, index and middle fingers together, and waved them back and forth about thirty or forty centimeters in front of Gao Zhun’s eyes. “Think of that image. Follow my fingers with your eyes. Do the best you can. Tell me when you can’t take it anymore.”

His fingers were straight and slender, his nails neatly trimmed, the pads of his fingers slightly red. As Gao Zhun stared at these fingertips, he suddenly had a perverse association. He blamed himself for his lewdness. The shame made his lips flush, bright red.

“Focus,” Fang Chi waved his fingers rhythmically, first from left to right, then up and down, and finally slowly in circles. “Imagine the traumatic image.”

Gao Zhun forced himself to think. The reclined car seat. Steaming sweat. The weight of the man. His rear being pulled apart. A burning hot penis thrusting in… He should have been terrified. But with Fang Chi’s fingers dancing before his eyes, he became excited without knowing what to do. His limbs trembled. His face flushed red. He chased those glimmering fingertips with a covetous expression.

Fang Chi noticed his change. His heart beat uncontrollably wild. What Gao Zhun was giving off fascinated him. It wasn’t quite seduction, but it was enough to arouse. He quickly manipulated his line of sight, so that he could freely gaze at his lips. He wanted to lean in just like this. This desire was too strong, so strong that chills ran down his spine. What was even more terrifying was that, as if hypnotized by his own fingers, he didn’t even have the thought of stopping.

He leaned closer and closer. The shadow of his nose bridge already fell on Gao Zhun’s cheek. He watched with his own eyes as his shadow drew near to the corner of Gao Zhun’s lips. If a person’s soul truly had a good and evil side, he thought that one must be the evil him, impatiently casting off the burdensome flesh, going first to taste the flavor of the forbidden.

Fang Chi, he couldn’t help saying to himself, you really have fallen in.