Deep in the Act: Chapter 36

Gao Zhun sat behind his office desk. Spread out on the desktop was a sketch collection by Durer. Durer’s lines had a beauty like creation itself. Those hands, those medieval folds of clothing, always gave him a solemn state of mind. But right now they seemed dead. He felt as if he were still in Fang Chi’s bedroom, on that bed, with a man’s weight pressing down on his back.

Fang Chi pressed down on him, squeezing his arms from both sides toward the middle, squeezing until his whole back arched up, letting Fang Chi bite on it there, licking endlessly with lust clouding his heart. The place where his butt met his thighs was rubbed with ulterior motives. A gender reversed lovemaking, witnessed only by the creaking mattress and the faint light filtering through thick curtains.

“Fang…” Gao Zhun wanted to speak, but Fang Chi covered his mouth. His fingers slid from his chin toward his neck, pinching the thin flesh on his chest, playing with him like a woman, squeezing rapidly handful after handful. His vulnerable lower body rubbed repeatedly against the bedsheet. Whether it was itchy or painful, he couldn’t tell. Unable to bear it, he spread his thighs. Fang Chi twisted his nipples and commanded, “Squeeze them… squeeze them tight!”

“I can’t… I can’t anymore…” he began to beg for mercy. After exhausting himself trying to satisfy Fang Chi without success, he was like a child who had been bullied too much, leaving behind tears of grievance. “Touch… let me touch you out, okay?”

Gao Zhun snapped the sketchbook shut, quickly licking his lips that had turned bright red from thirst. The office door was lightly knocked on. From the sound, he knew it was Justin. “Come…” his voice was actually hoarse. “Come in.”

Sure enough it was him. A tall, robust young man with big boyish eyes. Gao Zhun was looked down upon by him, but unlike in the past, he wasn’t afraid. “Are the large samples out?”

Justin’s gaze toward him was surprised, like returning to school after vacation and suddenly seeing a female classmate who had developed overnight, his mind full of surging hormones. “Yes…” he suddenly was at a loss for words. “Group A is slightly off color. I’ve already sent it back to the factory. These are Group B and Group C…” As he spoke, he stole glances at Gao Zhun, with an admiring, lingering gaze.

Gao Zhun didn’t notice any of this. “I’ll call you when I’ve looked through them.”

He pretended to flip open that small booklet. Justin turned to leave. At the moment the door closed, there was some hesitation.

The booklet contained effect drawings for the art exhibition. Paintings, sculptures, performance art. Gao Zhun couldn’t take any of it in. He only felt the world spinning, his body trembling along with his butt. Fang Chi was still gripping his wrist, not letting him move an inch. He had no strength, and had lost consciousness. The only thing he knew was that Fang Chi had come on him, the way a man does to a woman.

“Ah…” he let out a long sigh, his butt twisting diagonally on the leather office chair. Like he was addicted, he wanted Fang Chi to handle him like that again… Without warning, the door opened. Justin had barged in without even knocking. Gao Zhun was still in a daze, his cheeks red. Justin had already closed the door and locked it.

“What is it…” Gao Zhun’s breath was steaming hot, his voice sounding like someone who hadn’t had his fill. Justin directly yanked open his boss’s desk, grabbed him by the tie knot, and pulled him up from his chair. Only then did Gao Zhun sense danger, but he still hadn’t pulled himself out of his lustful fantasy. His two hands weakly pushed against Justin’s arms. “Get… get out!”

What responded to him were tobacco flavored lips and tongue, slippery saliva, and filthy shameless words. “…wanna do you!”

Gao Zhun was like a startled bird. Every finger, every strand of hair spasmed. Trembling, he stared at him in disbelief. Those images came rushing back all at once. Being stripped naked, being played with down below, being… He wanted to scream, but held it in. Because he thought of Fang Chi. If he were here, he would definitely tell him to stay calm, tell him not to provoke the attacker, not to cry.

Justin put his hand on his butt. Just placing it there, Gao Zhun already shrank backward unwillingly. Shrinking and trembling, he wrestled for the tie from Justin’s hand. Justin seemed to not know what to do with him for the moment, pressing him against the wall all the way along. Three fine art posters, a whiteboard, and a set of collectible Eastern European bronze scissors all got knocked down and crashed to the floor.

“Justin… Justin…” Gao Zhun called his name meaninglessly. Several times he tried to run, but couldn’t break free from that tie. Pushed from behind, he retreated into a corner. Justin quickly stretched out his arm and trapped him inside.

Gao Zhun really couldn’t hold on anymore. His knees buckled, sliding down the wall. Justin supported him with one hand, like a bull in heat, his face flushed red, continuously puffing rough breaths. Those obsessed eyes looked him up and down several times. His big hand finally gripped his neck, his index finger hooking the collar. With one more push, he would have succeeded.

Tear open his shirt, bind his wrists with the tie, then pull down his pants. Condoms and lubricant, he had prepared them just now… The scenario he had simulated in his mind thousands of times. But when it came down to it, he felt some timidity. Justin was anxious beyond words, at a loss, and in his flustered state hugged Gao Zhun without knowing his own strength, scaring him into pitifully curling into a ball, silently muttering, “No… no…”

He tried to kiss him again. Every time he kissed him, Gao Zhun dodged. He frantically groped all over his body. Waist, chest, inner thigh, pinching here, rubbing there. Every touch made Gao Zhun let out a small cry of alarm. Justin wanted to, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. Like a tiger cub that didn’t know how to eat chicken, pouncing on limp prey in anxious frustration. “Te… teacher, don’t dodge!”

The hand gripping his neck loosened slightly. Gao Zhun looked at him timidly, neither begging for mercy nor resisting, as if negotiating, as if persuading. “First… let me go. Calm down for a…”

Justin seemed not to hear, cupping his chin, his thumb rubbing his lips with great force. If this were a woman, her lipstick would be smeared everywhere by now. But this was a man. Every bit of red was real blood color, makeup that couldn’t be washed off. He loved his true colors, completely lost in confusion, foolishly fantasizing that he was his lover. Relaxing both hands, he carefully kissed him.

Lips and lips were less than a hair’s breadth apart. Gao Zhun suddenly shoved him away. Justin was completely unprepared, and Gao Zhun slipped from his embrace. The silk tie slid from the web of his hand, about to leave his grip. Justin reflexively grabbed the tail end. The sudden force made Gao Zhun fall to the ground. Justin pounced on him, like a true scoundrel, brutally suppressing his struggles. Bent posters, erasers, whiteboard markers, those bronze scissors. Gao Zhun randomly grabbed one and held it in his hand.

Justin subconsciously dodged. He thought Gao Zhun, driven to desperation, would attack him. But instead, he only pointed those two blades at his own tie, trembling as he cut downward. Unfortunately, the knife was too old, its edge already dull. If not for its weight, it really couldn’t cut through. Justin stared at him in shock, watching him pitifully struggle with that old antique.

“Teacher…” letting go of the tie he was gripping, he leaned over, wanting to snatch the knife from Gao Zhun’s hand. But Gao Zhun gripped it tight and wouldn’t let go. Unable to tell if it was heartache or guilt, Justin shouted at him loudly, “Stop cutting, teacher!”

Gao Zhun jerked his head up. Before his eyes were a pair of hands that studied sculpture. Distinct knuckles, powerful tendons. Snatching the scissors from his hand, pressing the bolt and easily splitting the metal blade into two halves, with a thud, stabbing them into the floor. “Teacher…” his lips pursed, seeming to sniffle. “I just like you…”

He really was a child. Wiping his eyes with his suit sleeve, knees on the floor, arms wrapped around Gao Zhun’s waist, burying his face in his stomach and shedding tears. “I’m sorry, teacher… I’m sorry!”

Gao Zhun’s mouth hung open, panting. His black hair was scattered on the floor, dirty. He wanted to stand up, but was held by Justin like a cat or a dog, unable to move. “Get up first.”

Justin didn’t dare at all, not even having the courage to look him in the eye and speak. “I’ll get up if you forgive me…”

Gao Zhun hated it most when people negotiated conditions with him. His voice was cold. “Are you getting up or not?”

Justin knew his temper. He obediently got up and stood there with his head shrunk, such a big guy, anxiously waiting for Gao Zhun’s verdict.

“Get out.” Gao Zhun only said two words.

Justin refused, twisting and turning. “You and him… are you that kind of relationship?”

Gao Zhun’s face immediately turned unpleasant, like a thorny flower, like a bird with a hooked beak, spreading its gorgeous sensitive wings. “Get out!”

He watched Justin to the door, until he heard the crisp click of the spring lock snapping back. Only then did he truly let out a breath of relief. Justin seemed unwilling to leave, lingering at the door. “Teacher,” he pleaded humbly. “Consider me…”

Gao Zhun didn’t want to look at him for one more second. Forcing down his disgust and fear, he turned his back. Only after a long time did he hear the sound of the door closing behind him. He opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was the mess on the floor. Those knives and whiteboard markers, and a pink condom.

He quickly closed his eyes. The horror that clung to his flesh and penetrated to his bones crept up from his ankles. He ran to the door and locked it dead. The first thing he did upon turning around was grab the phone, press a string of numbers, and clutch the receiver anxiously waiting. The other side’s mobile was turned off. He dialed the landline number. After two or three rings, it connected. “Hello?”

It was that voice. The voice he most wanted to hear. Tears pattered down. For a long time he couldn’t say a word. The other side seemed to have a spiritual connection, softly asking, “Mr. Gao?” Without even needing Gao Zhun to answer, the voice on the other side lowered, as if covering the receiver. “Mr. Liu, I’m sorry, I need to take an important call. Five minutes. I’ll make it up to you shortly.”

The landline disconnected. Soon his mobile rang. Gao Zhun quickly pulled it out to listen. Fang Chi’s voice was urgent. “What’s wrong?”

Gao Zhun tried hard to appear calm. “Can you come pick me up after work?”

Fang Chi didn’t ask more, only saying, “Are you okay?” Gao Zhun said no. So he said, “Wait for me.”

Gao Zhun was about to hang up, when the other side added, “Protect yourself. If you’re scared, then…” After a moment of silence, Fang Chi softly said, “Think of me.”

Fang Chi arrived half an hour early. When Gao Zhun got into his Volvo, he was much more at ease than last time. But he still pretended, pretending to be scared, letting Fang Chi fasten his seatbelt for him. In the moment of pulling and clicking, he brushed Fang Chi’s cheek with his dry lips. Fang Chi looked at him from very close. Those eyes, nose, lips, ears were all red, each for a different reason. Some were cried red, some were from embarrassment. “Justin?”

Gao Zhun’s expression was somewhat unnatural. “I handled it. It’s fine.”

Fang Chi turned on the left signal, turning the steering wheel. “I want to hear the details.”

The car slowly slid out along the lane, merging into the straight driving line. Gao Zhun’s two hands gripped the hem of his suit. “He just… was still like before. I told him off.”

Fang Chi knew he wasn’t telling the truth, and fell silent unhappily. Gao Zhun hurriedly said, “I arranged for him to go abroad. He leaves tomorrow.”

Some color returned to Fang Chi’s face. “Where to?”

“Zurich. For market expansion.”

“When will he be back?”

“Maybe a week, or two weeks,” Gao Zhun observed Fang Chi’s expression, feeling he still wasn’t satisfied, so he said, “It can be extended.”

Fang Chi drove very fast, unlike his usual self. When overtaking, several times he almost scraped the car on the right. Gao Zhun nervously stared at the windshield, tentatively asking, “Are you… angry at me?”

Fang Chi seemed to have been waiting for him to say this, waiting for him to coax him. The car speed obviously slowed down. His mood improved a bit. “We’re not doing treatment today. I’m taking you out to relax.”

What he said was still the dance club. But not “Black Pool.” It was a very large hip hop dance studio. When he led Gao Zhun inside, the crazy sound system and whistling were almost deafening. Dancers with headscarves were jumping and rolling before the mirrors. The audience watching the dance was packed in layers, almost impassable. “Why so many people?” Fang Chi asked the staff.

“Open day!” They had to shout to hear each other. “The day after tomorrow is Thanksgiving. There’s a special performance today!”

Fang Chi held Gao Zhun’s hand tight. Gao Zhun also held his hand back. With so many people, he wasn’t afraid at all. Fang Chi found a good spot, pulling him over and circling him into his arms. “Is this okay?”

Gao Zhun only nodded, but his heart was boiling so much it was about to smoke. Those young people, those dazzlingly beautiful dancers, no matter how pretty or sexy, couldn’t compare to the embrace behind him. Every breath Fang Chi took, every small movement, was his entire attachment. All the lights suddenly went out. For an instant there was dead silence. Soon orderly shouting and applause flooded in like a tide. Spotlights flashed on and off. When the main lights came back on, in the center of the floor stood over twenty dancers wearing their caps backward, all male.

The loudspeaker began to count down. They tore off their shirts in unison, revealing toned muscles and fashionable underwear waistbands peeking out from their jeans. Staff rushed up with spray bottles, spraying water on their bulging bodies. The female audience screamed like they were going mad. Three! Two! One! They relaxed their bodies and fell toward the ground, catching themselves with their wrists before hitting, looking like simple plank holds.

The music started. It was Nanne Gronvall’s “Hall Om Mig.” Gao Zhun was normally not very interested in these gimmicks. But once they started moving, he was dumbfounded. Over twenty slim waists began thrusting in rhythm simultaneously, their butts sinking and rising with each movement. Some even shook rapidly. They were simulating the motions of lovemaking.

Beside him were two girls in their early twenties, wearing cute makeup, little jackets and white skirts, covering their faces and screaming excitedly, “Oh my god! Stud waists!”

Stud waists. Gao Zhun heard this for the first time. His eyes suddenly didn’t dare look toward the floor. Almost simultaneously, Fang Chi held him tighter, his lower body pressing forward, his crotch hard. “Shall we go home?”

Spoken with hot breath by his ear, Gao Zhun of course consented. He had never imagined he would be cruising in a man’s Volvo, that man with an erection, while he himself anxiously waited to be pushed onto a bed and have his butt rubbed.

Entering the door, turning on the lights, Gao Zhun stood in the entryway taking off his shoes. Fang Chi pressed against him taking off his clothes. Somehow, their lips rubbed together. A real kiss, burning hot like it was on fire. Tongues rolled by tongues, teeth grinding against teeth. Gao Zhun kept making some kind of spoiled nasal sound, so anxious that Fang Chi went straight to pulling his belt.

“To the bed…” Gao Zhun trembled as he was pulled by him, his hand fumbling on the wall. He finally found the light switch, pressing it several times before it went down. “I want that…”

In the pitch darkness, Fang Chi pulled down his underwear. “What…”

“That thing just now…” Gao Zhun’s voice seemed swallowed by the darkness, barely audible. “Stud waist…”

Fang Chi didn’t respond. Gao Zhun was soft and dazed, suddenly lifted up by the waist and thrown over a shoulder.