Chapter 88
Editor: Whiteflare
Proofreader: Mashiro
Trigger warning: painful intercourse
Shen Yan opened his eyes dazedly. The sob from the man on his shoulder was like a soft prickle, stabbing him in his heart.
“Don’t cry…” He said in a hoarse voice. His body felt too hot—it was as if his throat was full of embers blazing slowly, each word bathed in burns.
As he said so, he gently held the back of Qi Jing’s head with his hand, pulling him closer to himself. He heard Qi Jing answer with a soft “mn”, the face pressed on his chest rubbed against him twice. But Qi Jing’s shoulders were still trembling—his right hand almost pleadingly scratched his back, causing him a fiery pain.
Shen Yan furrowed his brows and panted heavily for a moment, still holding Qi Jing’s nape as he sheathed himself deeper with restraint.
It felt almost like an iron chisel being pounded into a block of wood inch by inch with an iron hammer…
Very hard, but also very blunt.
Very blunt, but also without leaving a single bit of leeway, unyielding in filling the entirety of him.
“Agh…” Qi Jing already had a hard time thinking clearly, gasping as if he was suffocating.
But it wasn’t only pants that escaped the depths of his throat—there were also some other, intermittent sounds he had never heard before. It was as if each sound floated up from the depths of water, both moist and turbid, its effect addictive like an anaesthetic.
“Shen Yan…”
His mind right now was unable to tell whether that call was supposed to refuse or to invite.
But his body was plenty honest.
Whenever a person let their instinct react to the pain, they would always push the source away, yet he kept tightening his embrace, even biting his lips to keep himself from sobbing and slowly spreading his legs in an invitation for that man. Despite the fact that, without any prior preparation, all of it would be extremely hard for him.
Shen Yan had to stop for a moment; he shut his eyes and only kept panting.
He leaned down, the line of his back like a steel bar bending slowly, revealing the tension and pressure he was feeling. Qi Jing’s hand could feel the rapid undulation of his shoulders clearly. He was probably hurting too—his breathing was erratic and even his back was covered in a thin layer of sweat.
Qi Jing thought hazily and instinctively started to shift his body around, trying to find a posture that would make it hurt less.
With that movement of his, that thing buried in him also got affected.
Qi Jing gave a full-body shudder and briefly, his mind cleared.
Having realised that he was taking in the other man inside his body, his toes curled up and he instinctively wanted to close his legs, wishing for nothing but to bury the shame he felt deep in his heart. But that thing below impaled him forcibly, its invasive sense of presence unignorable. His entire spine felt as if he had been zapped with electricity, even those deeply throbbing veins seemed as if they were carved out with knives, slowly rubbing against him.
“…Ah…” His heart was beating so hard that his chest started to ache dully and blood rushed to his head. Qi Jing’s face instantly became burning hot and he instinctively curled up in this man’s arms, his fingers tightly gripping onto his shoulders.
Shen Yan was hence pulled down, gasping heavily as he buried himself all the way in.
“Aah—” He still couldn’t stop himself from crying out, even though he tried to suppress the pain as much as he could.
Qi Jing gasped, gulping in mouthfuls of air with every breath. He turned his head sideways as if deprived of every last bit of energy, his eyes shut tightly. The contours from his ears to his clavicle quivered under the lamp light, the sheen of sweat colouring his silhouette gold. Looking from above, he seemed like a stranded fish struggling under the clear sunlight reflecting from the waves at dusk.
…Did it hurt? Of course it did.
Shen Yan reached out with his hand, stroking that face gently. “Qi Jing,” His voice was hoarse; only at that moment did he finally manage to string together a complete sentence, “…If you wish to push me away, then do it now.”
He said that very slowly, each word a torment for him&#k2014;just like the sweat droplets falling from his hair one after another, they fell on Qi Jing’s body, leaving behind a salty and bitter taste&#k2014;the taste of pleading.
Hearing him inquire so, Qi Jing slowly cracked his eyes open, their gazes fixing upon each other.
His eyes were still red, their corners still wet, and on his face, the pallor from the pain had yet to fade, but at that moment, he suddenly laughed in a low voice.
That pair of eyes curved into crescents, creating two serene yet beautiful arcs. With this movement, a pea-sized tear rolled down his cheek and fell soundlessly between Shen Yan’s fingers. The light reflected in his moist eyes also flowed down his hair along with that tear, overflowing just like their currently surging feelings.
There was still a band-aid on Shen Yan’s finger. That tear burrowed under its edge, the salt in it gradually seeping into the wound and causing a slight sting of pain.
At that time, Qi Jing turned his face and rubbed his cheek against the surface of the band-aid, his lips brushing over Shen Yan’s wrist, then the palm of his hand and his fingers. At the end, they found their way to the knife cut from before and like a cat lapping on a wound, he traced the knuckle below the band-aid with the tip of his tongue.
“If you wish, to continue… then do it now.” He replied after releasing Shen Yan’s finger.
The answer was as clear as day—in fact, it was already clear the moment that man made his way into his heart.
All that so-called willpower, reason, patience.
They held no meaning anymore.
Shen Yan took a deep breath.
He put his hand on Qi Jing’s forehead, brushing his hair back, pushing his head back on the pillow.
Qi Jing followed his movement by laying back and arching his back a bit. At that moment, Shen Yan pressed down and held him tightly, supporting Qi Jing’s hips as he rocked his body, doing his best to control his strength as he started to move.
With his head pulled back, Qi Jing’s Addam’s apple was clear to see under the light—every time he swallowed slightly due to his extremely dry throat it would make that place bob up and down. Without a word of warning, Shen Yan lowered his head to take a bite, using a force much stronger than any previous time, to the point where Qi Jing groaned—maybe from pain, or maybe from something else—as he leaned back on the pillow, gasping heavily.
But Shen Yan was already a step ahead of him—with his hand holding strongly onto the edge of the bed, his body followed as his body followed Qi Jing’s, continuing to press in closely.
“Ah…”
Qi Jing’s head became empty and he saw white before his eyes—all of his senses gathered in the place where the two of them were connected. His right hand slipped off Shen Yan’s shoulder and fell heavily on the bedside, all the bones of his body filled with numbness that made him lose all resistance, leaving him only able to grip tightly onto the corner of the pillow.
That pain from the beginning was already fading, what came next was the distinct, sharp feeling of being penetrated by a man.
It still hurt, yes, but he wanted to be taken even more thoroughly by him
He was still crying, too, but the tears of pain had already dried and the sobs escaping his throat also ceased. His eyes were stinging just a bit; a light spun inside them, imprinting unconditionally the man before him within—the look in them seemed much more poignant than the tears he had shed.
“Shen Yan…” He suddenly called that name in a hoarse voice between the thrusts.
Shen Yan responded by lifting his gaze, his breath heavy as he moved closer to kiss the space between his brows. Kissing particularly tenderly.
“Shen Yan,” he said, “I, love… you.”
His words were scrambled from the entangling of their bodies, but they were more entrancing than ever before. Shen Yan didn’t reply, only groping about with his left hand to grab his hand, which was clinging tightly to the pillowcase, prying open his fingers. When they released their hold completely, he held his hand, interlocking their fingers together.
The lives of the two of them seemed to tangle together tightly along with that interlocking of their fingers.
During the still early winter night, everywhere was quiet and even the smallest of movements could be heard with utmost clarity—not to mention that the two of them were both sensitive to the sounds in the first place.
Their quick and heavy gasps, the rubbing of the sheets, even the faint creaking of the bed frame rocked by their movements—all of these sounds overlapped as if having gained a hundredfold in clarity. The bed sheets looked as if a battle occurred between them, leaving them in a terrible mess, but every crease and fold was proof of the first time they urgently wanted to give all of themself to another.
After shedding his clothes, Shen Yan’s body showed the sturdiness of an adult man—he was more built than Qi Jing had ever imagined.
Sweat trickled down his strong contours, streaking between them like a straight ray of light, one drop after another falling onto Qi Jing’s body, only to get milled in between the entanglement of their limbs. Even his hair became damp.
His scalp was already soaked with perspiration, the light gilding his hair. When the other man ran through it slowly, that damp mix of black and gold spun around his fingers like strands of silk, like they were covered in a fine layer of wax, giving them a bewitching lustre.
Shen Yan buried his head in Qi Jing’s nape, so his hair kept brushing by the skin in that place—it happened every time he sheathed himself deep inside Qi Jing. With every thrust of his, that jet-black hair would sweep by Qi Jing’s throat, each strand fanning the fiery lust wherever they touched. The fire soon became a sea of flames.
For Qi Jing, there was another sea besides the one that was full of flames.
That sea was of a different kind.
In it, he dazedly became a ship running up against the rocks, unable to advance yet also unable to retreat. Whenever the tide surged violently, it would hit the sides of the ship with all its force, tossing it onto the reef, causing him a dull pain. He had no strength to struggle and could only drift with the waves and follow the flow, as if rolling on the curved wave peaks in exhaustion, following them up and down.
Yet he felt no fear.
Instead, he was aware deep in his heart that… it was this sea where he belonged.
As the last tide rolled with all its strength, the ship finally shattered under the powerful strikes of the sea waves, opening itself up—the seawater surged inside, filling what used to be a ship to its fullest. Only then did he experience that the gradually calming sea turned out to be so comfortably warm, seething even, gradually flooding the very depths of the ship.
After the tide receded, the shipwreck slowly sank into the seabed, becoming one with it. Everything reverted back to calmness.
Because of the difference in temperatures between his front and back, Qi Jing shivered slightly. Only at that moment did he realise that his back wasn’t nestled in soft sea sand, but buried in the messy bed sheets.
The process of the two of them parting felt like a video in slow motion, from Shen Yan’s releasing of his hand, through his stroking of Qi Jing’s waist, to propping him on his own body, all of it felt so slow and considerate. Before pulling out completely, Shen Yan lightly thrusted in one last time, making a vague groan escape Qi Jing’s throat. He moaned, then slowly softened in his embrace.
The gaze that stayed unfocused throughout all that time focused once again, the dazzling light on the ceiling reverting back to clarity, silently returning to its place on the wall.
At that time, the two of them were wet all over, a faint saltiness covering their bodies, not unlike two people who just got fished up from the sea.
Qi Jing gasped for breath as he laid pliant on the bed, reaching out his hand to gather Shen Yan in his arms, laying that man’s head on his chest without a hint of awkwardness. The two of them tangled together like pieces of damp cloth, momentarily loathe to part, without leaving any gap where they could be pried apart.
The stinging pain in his bottom diminished and dulled, no longer as clear, yet his heart suddenly filled with a stifling sense of loss.
“…Shen Yan.”
There was no reply.
“…Shen Yan.” He called once again in a hoarse voice. His throat was too parched, it felt uncomfortable when speaking, but calling this name would make him feel at ease.
He didn’t hear a reply even after so long, so Qi Jing couldn’t help lift his head, wanting to take a look at him.
At that time, something cold and wet suddenly fell on the crook of his neck, taking him by surprise. At first, it was only two drops, but they only became more numerous with time and only then did he finally realise that Shen Yan was crying.
Perhaps because he was trying to hold back himself too much, the sounds escaping his throat were a bit sharp and intense, choked sobs mixing in between the stifled whimpers. It seemed like he wanted to say something, but was unable to say even one word and could only hold onto Qi Jing’s arm tightly, unwilling to let go of him. Qi Jing felt a pang of pain in his chest and couldn’t help gathering him as close as possible to himself, giving him a sense of security akin to that of getting a shelter from wind and rain in his embrace.
“It’s clearly me who is in more pain?” Qi Jing murmured by his ear half in a joke, half in consolation, not a hint of reproach in his voice.
From beginning to the end, Shen Yan didn’t say a word; only his hand that held onto Qi Jing’s arm moved a bit—after releasing his hold, it slowly encircled Qi Jing’s back, giving him a hug heavy with feelings.
The quirked up corners of Qi Jing’s lips slowly smoothed down; no longer smiling, he suddenly returned the strong hug. Shen Yan’s shoulders tremored, and only then, as if he received some sort of permission, he embraced the man before him with all his strength. At the same time, a dam holding back his tears broke down—most of the time he made no sound, only his shoulders would tremble every now and then. He buried his head in the crook of Qi Jing’s neck, kissing it somewhat shakily.
Qi Jing didn’t do anything, only silently stroking his hair and waiting just as silently.
When the shivering of that man’s body gradually calmed down, Qi Jing inquired in a soft voice, “Better now?”
“… Mn.” Shen Yan’s emotions were now stable and only his throat felt dry, his words still a bit indistinct among his quiet sniffling, “I’m sorry.”
Qi Jing shook his head with a chuckle, laying a kiss on his forehead as he continued to patiently comb through his damp hair.
Having just gained both physical and emotional release, both Shen Yan’s body and mind were fatigued. His whole person felt empty, as if he had given the entire living part of his being to the other, only leaving ashes for himself. With a perplexed expression, he slowly leaned over, his skin close against Qi Jing’s.
“I… feel kind of empty.” He said in a low voice. Perhaps it was because he had just cried out his pain, but his throat was incredibly hoarse—if it wasn’t for the closeness between them, it would be almost inaudible.
“You mean hollow?” Qi Jing stroked his hair, burying half of his face in it to take in a deep breath of the familiar shampoo fragrance.
“No,” Shen Yan murmured mechanically in response, “…it kind of feels like… I have escaped.”
It was kind of as if, after escaping somewhere, there was only emptiness before him, leaving him at a loss at where he should head next. But at the very least he knew that he was free, hence he was much at ease and calm…
“Escaped? Who says that?” Qi Jing chuckled like an indolent cat, hooking his fingers lightly to pull Shen Yan’s hand on the place on his chest, his index finger following that thin and long love line on his palm. Then, his lips moved, no further than a centimetre from Shen Yan’s, “Now that you’re already my man, don’t you think of escaping in this lifetime.”
It was clearly him that was in the position of being taken, yet he still had a gall to tease him like that.
Shen Yan laughed faintly, lowering his eyes as he said softly, “Okay.”
Qi Jing froze at first—when he got back to his senses, he murmured a taunting “dummy” by Shen Yan’s ear. But his heart was thrashing around from happiness—only at that moment did he get to know the bliss of possessing another thoroughly. Unlike Shen Yan’s feeling of emptiness, he himself felt as if he was finally complete.
When Shen Yan entered him, it was as if the pieces he was missing for all those years had finally returned to his body, completing him during their mutual claiming—it was probably also the case for Shen Yan.
His puzzle.
Shen Yan’s puzzle.
Turns out that only when those two puzzles were combined would he be able to see the bigger picture of those previously confusing mazes and find the exit he saw .
But Qi Jing wasn’t in a rush to leave—he was more inclined to savour the tender moments of searching for the path together.
There was no sound to be heard outside the window.
Time stopped for what felt like an eternity as they didn’t part, and the narrow bed also gave them a fine excuse for sleeping while embracing each other, eagerly sticking to the other’s body, listening to the steady and strong rhythm of the hearts beating in their chests. Almost all of the residual warmth had faded, but Qi Jing’s bones were still sore and numb. Yet, there was also a sweet and soft feeling, like the taste of just half-melted sugar.
“I will carry you to the shower…” The tone of Shen Yan’s voice reverted back to his usual gentleness and he stroked Qi Jing’s face dotingly with his fingers.
“Don’t,” Qi Jing shook his head and closed his eyes, drilling into his embrace as he said in a low voice, “I like having the taste you left on me. At least… let me wait until before tomorrow morning, okay?”
His tone was both pleading and coy at the same time.
Shen Yan didn’t say a thing in response, silently moving his hand from the back of Qi Jing’s ear into his hair, lowering his head to kiss him for a long time. Still, although Qi Jing was saying so, the bed the two of them lay on was a bit too narrow—they didn’t pay it any mind during the moment of passion, but only now as they lay at it together did they realise that point.
So he made a proposal, “Let’s go back to the bedroom to sleep.”
Qi Jing didn’t answer, only muttering a soft “mhm” while buried meekly in his arms, only to stay there unwilling to budge for the longest time. Shen Yan also didn’t hurry him, accompanying him in silently listening to the time flowing by.
Until suddenly, Qi Jing opened his mouth to ask, “What… time is it now?”
Whiteflare: SY, SY… Just because you revert from your beast state right afterwards doesn’t mean that I’ll forgive you!
Lucilla: *suffers from this unexpected betrayal* Grandpa Yan, are you really my Grandpa?? How come???