Facing his teammates’ teasing, Pei Tingsong remained unfazed, not even flinching. He merely raised an eyebrow. “Brother Huo really knows his stuff.”
Jokes aside, to spare Fang Juexia any awkwardness, he personally ladled soup for everyone—a rare display of being the dutiful younger brother.
The dishes were fresh and varied. These guys, accustomed to grabbing quick meals during work, savored the rare treat. They chatted and ate, the meal stretching on for quite some time.
After agreeing to go horseback riding that afternoon, the staff first escorted them back to their respective accommodations. The rest area was spacious, with each of the six men staying in a private hot spring villa. Every villa featured its own private hot spring pool within the courtyard, surrounded by stone walls and adorned with ginkgo and osmanthus trees—both secluded and picturesque.
Changing into the provided riding attire, the six left the rest area and boarded a shuttle to the riding grounds. Pei Tingsong, having serious experience at equestrian clubs, handled everything with ease. He selected a horse that caught his eye, swung himself onto the saddle, and pulled the reins to take a few steps.
Fang Juexia watched from below. He wore a beige riding outfit, his sharp features visible beneath the helmet as he effortlessly guided the horse. Galloping down the track, he seemed to carry the wind itself.
The scene was truly a sight to behold.
Though the setting was pleasant, it wasn’t a professional equestrian club, and the horses were limited. Jiang Miao, who had always been a bit afraid of large animals, decided she wouldn’t ride and sat under a resting umbrella to watch them. Although she had interacted with horses during the last shoot, it was different from seeing them gallop like this. Fang Juexia felt a little apprehensive and joined Jiang Miao in resting.
“It’s really scary.” Jiang Miao picked up the juice on the table, twisted open a bottle for Fang Juexia, and took another for himself. “Have some water.”
Fang Juexia thought of his acting career and curved his lips slightly. “Miao Ge, what if you get cast in a period drama that requires horseback riding?”
This stumped Jiang Miao, pausing mid-sip. “Hmm… If it’s acting, I guess I’d just have to grit my teeth and do it.”
Fang Juexia could tell he genuinely loved acting. Last time he visited the set, watching him film by the monitor had been incredibly moving.
“You’re so dedicated. You’ll definitely get more roles in the future,” Fang Juexia said.
Jiang Miao set down the glass bottle. “What about you? When the group reaches a certain point and you can pursue your own career freely, what do you want to do?”
Fang Juexia thought seriously for a moment. “I’d still sing and dance. Being a singer-songwriter sounds nice too. I just love the stage.” He looked back at Jiang Miao, his eyes clear. “But I still love being with you guys. We can each do our own work when we need to, then come back and reunite as the six of us, standing on stage together. I want it to be like this even ten years from now.”
Without realizing it, he’d voiced his true feelings. He stretched his legs out comfortably, leaned back in his chair, and murmured, “I wonder if anyone will still listen to us sing by then…”
Ten meters away, Ling Yi couldn’t handle his horse, so the instructor had to join him. Yet Ling Yi kept yelling, “Ah! My butt is getting so sore from all this bouncing!” The other three still on their horses paused to watch the spectacle. Fang Juexia, seated in his chair, couldn’t help but laugh too.
Jiang Miao silently observed Fang Juexia. That face, which always appeared cold to outsiders, softened beautifully when he smiled.
“Juexia, you’ve changed a lot this past year.”
Hearing this, Fang Juexia’s smile faded slightly as he turned to look at the captain, a hint of surprise flickering in his eyes.
“It’s not really ‘changed’,” Jiang Miao smiled. “It’s more that you’ve finally let down your guard.”
Jiang Miao was a gentle observer—something Fang Juexia had known for a long time. He didn’t deny it. This past year, he had indeed let go of many things he couldn’t release before, learning to let go and embrace.
“Hmm.” Fang Juexia watched Pei Tingsong galloping gracefully in the distance. “People are creatures who influence each other.”
Jiang Miao followed his gaze, a knowing smile touching his lips. “Yes.”
“But ten years isn’t enough. We have so many decades ahead.”
Fang Juexia turned to smile at him, then took another sip of sweet apricot juice.
“Want me to teach you?” After galloping three laps, Pei Tingsong tugged his reins, slowing to a trot beside Fang Juexia and Jiang Miao. “Miao, you coming?”
Seeing his fear, Pei Tingsong didn’t press the issue. He simply lifted Fang Juexia onto the saddle and wrapped his arms around him from behind. The shortage of horses was the perfect excuse—it meant he could ride with Fang Juexia on the same mount. At first, Fang Juexia felt a bit scared, but gradually he found his rhythm.
“Having fun, brother?” Pei Tingsong lowered his head slightly, his breath mingling with the howling wind as he whispered into Fang Juexia’s ear. The sound and the warmth of his chest pressed against Fang Juexia’s back, making it feel hot. Fang Juexia forced himself to keep his eyes straight ahead, adjusting his breathing and focusing all his attention on the galloping horse.
“Your silence means it’s not fun enough.” Pei Tingsong interpreted Fang Juexia’s nervous quietness as he saw fit, yanking the reins to turn the horse’s head. Changing course, they charged straight toward a barrier obstacle. The wind stung Fang Juexia’s eyes shut. His heart pounded wildly as adrenaline surged through him at the danger, instinctively pressing him closer to Pei Tingsong’s chest.
“Scared?” Pei Tingsong wrapped his arms around Fang Juexia, pulling him down until they were nearly pressed flat against the horse’s back.
Whether it was a stubborn desire to prove himself against Pei Tingsong or a surge of trust welling up, Fang Juexia, who had been terrified moments before, now found himself strangely less afraid. The rail barrier loomed closer, the distance rapidly shrinking with each jolt. Fang Juexia watched it narrow as Pei Tingsong securely held him, their bodies becoming one.
The moment they leapt, the horse beneath them reared back. Held aloft by Pei Tingsong, Fang Juexia soared through the wind, his heart thrown skyward too. The danger was so intense Fang Juexia was certain it had stopped beating for a second.
In a flash, Pei Tingsong pressed against him and kissed the side of his ear. The intimacy born of peril felt more direct than hormones. Hooves struck the ground as they cleared the obstacle unscathed, returning safely to earth. Fang Juexia’s anxious heart settled back into place, pounding fiercely against his chest.
Pei Tingsong tightened the reins, and the horse he had tamed gradually slowed from gallop to a leisurely trot. “When you’re suspended in mid-air, your senses amplify. It creates this illusion of life hanging by a thread—just like bungee jumping.”
It truly was a matter of life and death, especially for someone as inexperienced as him. Fang Juexia’s heartbeat refused to slow with the horse’s rhythm, his breath still ragged. He couldn’t tell if the bungee jump had been more dangerous, or if the sensation just now had been more terrifying.
In a daze, he heard Pei Tingsong say in his usual nonchalant tone, “Come to think of it, I’ve held you while dying twice now.”
The remark felt unlucky. Even Fang Juexia, a staunch materialist, grew anxious. He turned to scold, “Don’t say things like that.”
Seeing his adorably earnest expression, Pei Tingsong wanted nothing more than to kiss him. But he held back, merely lifting the corner of his mouth in feigned innocence. “Say what? Death?”
“You…” Fang Juexia sighed, finding him utterly incorrigible. He couldn’t be bothered to argue further and turned his attention back to dismounting.
“What are you afraid of? Afraid I’ll die?” Pei Tingsong held him tight, preventing any movement, his voice low and husky. “I still want to die on top of you every night.”
Rogue.
Fang Juexia shoved him away, dismounting without a care for the fall. He Ziyan and Lu Yuan stood side by side on their horses nearby, watching the spectacle.
“What’s got Little Pei all worked up about Juexia?”
He Ziyan shook his head with a laugh. “Who’d have thought the little iceberg would turn into such a hothead one day.”
“My butt hurts so much! I don’t want to ride anymore!” Poor Ling Yi kicked his little legs on the horse, but no one came to his rescue.
They played until the sun had played its part, dragging its last halo into the ridges of distant mountains. Late autumn days were short, darkness fell quickly, and the wind turned cool—perfect for soaking in hot springs at night. After a full afternoon of roughhousing at the riding grounds, Fang Juexia didn’t fancy going straight to the baths. So they decided to head back for showers first.
The six shared accommodations clustered together, yet each had its own courtyard, separated by winding paths and maintaining some distance. They clamored inside, each slipping into their own dwelling. Fang Juexia’s house lay furthest back, nestled beside a lake. After bidding the others farewell, he found himself alone, the surroundings suddenly still.
Driven by purpose, he didn’t even glance at his bedroom before heading straight to the bathroom. His movements were swift, yet they couldn’t outpace the hasty descent of dusk. By the time he turned off the shower, darkness had already engulfed the world outside his window.
The trickle of water ceased, and immediately, a knock sounded at the door. Fang Juexia stood barefoot on the black tiles, grabbing the bathrobe draped over the rack and pulling it on. Opening the bathroom door, he slipped into a pair of slippers, wrapped the robe tightly around himself, and walked along the corridor bordering the private hot spring. Lanterns hung from the eaves, casting a faint light that barely illuminated the path. Crunching through ginkgo leaves, he reached the entrance and opened the door.
Standing outside the wooden door was none other than Pei Tingsong. Dressed in a jet-black yukata, his hair, blown only partially dry, fell loosely and casually. Against the backdrop of the ginkgo leaves outside the door, he exuded a peculiar aura, somewhere between a youth and a mature man.
Fang Juexia said nothing, seemingly unsurprised. He merely raised his hand to sweep his damp hair back, revealing a smooth, snow-white forehead.
He was so strikingly beautiful that Pei Tingsong couldn’t look away. The moon-white yukata hung loosely on his frame, revealing a slender, snow-white neck. A faint curve played at the corners of his lips. A droplet gathered at the tip of his wet hair, falling onto his shoulder and spreading a small shadow.
The lantern’s light spilled over Fang Juexia, his cool, distant eyes hiding a barely perceptible tenderness, more beautiful than a moonlit, half-bloomed bellflower.
Seeing this scene, Pei Tingsong’s heart trembled. He knew this image of such beauty would likely stay with him forever.
“I missed you.” Pei Tingsong took a step forward, reaching to embrace him. But Fang Juexia stepped back, his foot landing on a dry branch with a crisp snap.
“Not out here,” Fang Juexia murmured softly.
There was no hidden meaning in his words—he simply feared someone might see them embrace. Yet to Pei Tingsong, those four words felt like an invitation, its meaning transformed. He seized Fang Juexia’s wrist and pulled him along the wooden corridor, pushing open the door to a room neither of them had ever entered.
The room lay bathed in the tranquil stillness of night, its surface rippled by Pei Tingsong’s abrupt intrusion. Fang Juexia’s vision was swallowed by darkness, guided only by the hand clasping his wrist.
“Turn on the light, Pei Tingsong.”
“No.” Pei Tingsong pulled him into his embrace, holding him tight. Beneath the thin yukata, their bodies finally pressed against each other.
Unable to see, yet his cheek was cupped, warm lips pressed against his, followed by a kiss that could drag him into an abyss.
“Mmm…”
The soft, vulnerable lining of his mouth was ravaged, a tongue teasing the backs of his teeth. Fang Juexia dreaded sudden kisses most—they stole his soul in an instant. As the barrier was breached, his legs went limp, turning into limp willow branches threatening to fall into the pool. Pei Tingsong pressed him step by step, drawing him deeper into the room within the irresistible kiss.
The vast floor-to-ceiling window spilled soft light, bathing Fang Juexia entirely. No one could see—not even Fang Juexia himself—how breathtakingly beautiful he looked in that moment, reflected only in Pei Tingsong’s eyes.
He possessed a face meant only to be admired from afar, one that seemed untouchable. Yet the more untouchable it seemed, the more Pei Tingsong craved to violate it, to defile it.
The kiss deepened. Fang Juexia saw nothing, could only endure. The empty room made him feel insecure. He kissed while retreating backward, feeling something behind him. In a daze, he found a sliver of support, but it was fragile—just a screen. Leaning against it, he nearly toppled backward.
Tongues intertwined, toes tangled, hormones danced in the darkness. Desire was an invisible disease; a single kiss was all it took to infect a body.
His heightened hearing caught the sound of water, like fingertips repeatedly piercing a ripe, juicy peach. Fang Juexia had long since forgotten to breathe or feel his heartbeat. His head tilted back, supported by him, just as his reason was about to shatter, he suddenly heard voices outside—Ling Yi and Lu Yuan.
“Juexia, this courtyard is so beautiful.”
“Aren’t they all pretty much the same?” Lu Yuan couldn’t discern any difference. “I’m hungry. Can we eat while we soak later?”
“Sure, why not.” Ling Yi walked along the corridor, calling out to Juexia before feeling something was off. “Why aren’t the lights on?”
“Yeah.” Lu Yuan also found it strange. “How can we see in such darkness?” The door wasn’t locked. Lu Yuan pushed it open. The room was pitch black inside. Ling Yi fumbled for the light switch by the door and flipped it on with a click. The spacious room was completely empty.
“We really should’ve drawn lots,” Lu Yuan said regretfully. His gaze swept across the room, landing on the tilted screen. He walked over, intending to prop it back up.
Footsteps drew near. Fang Juexia, hiding inside the wardrobe just a few steps from the screen, felt his heart racing.
“How did this screen fall over?” Through the thin wardrobe panels, his teammate’s voice felt like footsteps on his heart. It seemed like any moment they might pull open the door—just like that day during the livestream. Only this time, it would be no different from catching someone in the act.
Pei Tingsong relished the thrill, wanting to kiss him. But Fang Juexia clamped his hand over his mouth, refusing to let go. Pei Tingsong could only trace the back of his hand with his tongue, tracing the contours between his fingers.
“Juexia’s bed is different from mine. I want to try it.”
“Don’t mess it up for him.”
Fang Juexia couldn’t care less about his bed now. Unable to kiss him, Pei Tingsong found a new pleasure, lowering his head to take Fang Juexia’s earlobe into his mouth. The soft, tender nub felt almost melt-in-the-mouth. Deep, ragged breaths spread across his ear, making Fang Juexia increasingly terrified. Could they hear? What if they did?
“He didn’t even bring his phone. It’s on the bed.”
“Who brings their phone to a hot spring? Only someone like you.”
But he couldn’t push Pei Tingsong away—struggling would only make more noise. He could only pray his teammate would leave soon, sparing this tiny room. Pei Tingsong seemed certain he couldn’t resist, growing bolder as he planted silent kisses along his neck. His fingers tangled with the drawstring, unwrapping his most coveted gift with deliberate slowness.
In his hazy vision, Fang Juexia was intensely sensitive. He mustered every ounce of strength to stifle his voice.
Pei Tingsong could sense his fear—every muscle taut. It amused him, so he bit down maliciously. Fang Juexia let out a faint whimper, like a fledgling fallen from its nest, helpless and pitiful.
Fang Juexia knew he’d made a sound. He was terrified—how could he possibly recover from this humiliating state? He hadn’t prepared to face his teammates like this. But what he didn’t know was that such a faint sound had long been drowned out by Ling Yi and Lu Yuan’s chatter. Unaware he hadn’t been exposed, he could only beg Pei Tingsong to stop, clutching his arm and shaking his head pitifully.
Pei Tingsong finally got his wish and kissed him. His tongue swept over the smooth teeth, chasing the timid tongue, as if afraid their secret affair might be discovered. Through the thin, non-soundproof wooden panels, the muffled sounds only intensified his pleasure. Their tongues collided with fierce urgency. He dared not even swallow—the act itself would produce sound—and so he let the sensation flow, drowning his entire being.
Fang Juexia had always considered himself remarkably patient, yet he’d never endured anything quite like this. It felt less like kissing and more like a dull blade scraping against raw, itching flesh—both blissful and agonizing.
(The hot spring bath would have to wait until afterward.)
(Content Warning: Ejaculation control, dirty talk alert, spanking, mild BDSM warning (though it barely qualifies…), some BDSM elements in bedroom scenes. Pei Tingsong’s foreigner style tends to be bold; next time might be even more exaggerated. All bedroom antics are for fun only—please don’t take them seriously. Reader discretion advised.)
“Who takes their phone to the hot springs? Only someone like you.”
But he couldn’t push Pei Tingsong away—struggling would only make more noise. He could only pray his teammate would leave soon, sparing this tiny room. Seeming certain he couldn’t resist, Pei Tingsong grew bolder, trailing silent kisses down his neck to his collarbone. Fingers tightened on the sash at his waist, slowly and deliberately undoing it, as if patiently unwrapping a cherished gift.
The loose bathrobe slid off his shoulders, revealing vast swathes of snow-white skin. Exposed, it was then blanketed by his fine, scattered kisses.
Fang Juexia trembled sensitively in his embrace, still clutching his mouth tightly. Through his hazy vision, he felt Pei Tingsong descend steadily, taking his nipple into his mouth with perfect precision, his tongue circling and teasing. Fang Juexia’s lower abdomen tightened, summoning every ounce of strength to stifle his voice.
Pei Tingsong could sense his fear—every muscle in his body was taut. It amused him, so he teased him with a playful bite to the nipple. Fang Juexia let out a faint, helpless whimper, like a fledgling fallen from its nest, utterly vulnerable and pitiful.
Fang Juexia knew he’d made a sound. He was terrified—how could he possibly recover from this humiliating state? He hadn’t prepared to face his teammates like this. But what he didn’t know was that such a faint sound had long been drowned out by Ling Yi and Lu Yuan’s chatter. Unaware he hadn’t been exposed, he could only beg Pei Tingsong to stop, clutching his arm and shaking his head pitifully.
Pei Tingsong finally got his wish and kissed him. His tongue swept over Fang’s smooth teeth, chasing the timid tongue that hid behind them. His fingertips still teased Fang’s chest, as if afraid their secret tryst might not be discovered. The sound, muffled by the thin wooden walls, only heightened the pleasure. Tongues collided with fierce urgency. He dared not even swallow—the act itself would produce sound. He could only surrender to the surging desire, letting it flood his entire being.
Fang Juexia had always considered himself remarkably patient, yet he had never endured anything quite like this. It felt less like kissing and more like a dull blade scraping against raw, itching flesh—both ecstatic and agonizing.
“He’s probably gone by now. Let’s head over too. Brother Miao is waiting.”
“Alright. Why is everyone moving so fast?”
The thought of leaving made Fang Juexia feel alive again. Unexpectedly, Pei Tingsong’s hand pulled the bathrobe completely aside, his fingertips sending tingling waves wherever they touched. What Pei Tingsong hadn’t anticipated was that beneath, Fang Juexia wore nothing at all—smooth and bare. Hearing his teammate’s footsteps recede toward the door, Fang Juexia’s heart finally relaxed. But suddenly, his half-erect penis was seized by Pei Tingsong. Fang Juexia nearly lost all reason. He bit down hard on his lips, struggling to breathe, his only thought becoming anxious dread. Pei Tingsong moved like an executioner skilled in torture, kneading the tender tip with his palm, coating it with slippery fluid. His thumb and forefinger clamped down on the sensitive core, slowly sliding downward, parting the fragile skin, squeezing the shaft. Sexual pleasure shot straight to his temples, a tingling numbness like an electric shock running down his spine.
He desperately wanted to cry out.
“Hey, wait.”
The receding footsteps returned.
“What now?”
“I forgot my phone.”
Pei Tingsong’s movements slowed to a cruel crawl. Seeing him already hard to the limit, he released his grip and began licking his chest.
This time he truly left. With a sharp click, the room plunged back into darkness as the door slammed shut. But the pent-up desire was finally released. With no more inhibitions, Pei Tingsong pressed Fang Juexia against the wardrobe like a beast, deep-kissing him while gripping his slender shaft and stroking it faster and faster. After so long of suppression, Fang Juexia finally couldn’t hold back a soft whimper. This small wardrobe felt like a secret sex box, filled with unspeakable desires.
Feeling Fang Juexia tremble in his arms, his body tensing once more, Pei Tingsong knew he was close. Yet he had no intention of letting him go so easily. He encircled Fang Juexia’s member with his fingers, preventing him from releasing directly.
He offered a seemingly reasonable excuse: “How would we clean up if you came inside?”
Fang Juexia believed it, even as he trembled with restraint. Sweat glistened on his skin as he collapsed into Pei Tingsong’s arms. Perhaps the earlier silence had freed him, for now he spoke plainly, “It hurts…”
“Uncomfortable holding it in here?” Pei Tingsong asked knowingly, waiting until the urge to release faded before lifting him out and placing him on the bed. The teasing, retreating climax had drained Fang Juexia’s strength. He lay exhausted on the bed, saliva glistening at the corner of his mouth. Yet he felt no shame, his bathrobe left open, his naked body exposed on the bed. He was a stamen, stripped of its petals, clinging to life.
The plush bed pressed against floor-to-ceiling windows, offering an unobstructed view of the lake at night—almost like a half-open house. It hadn’t seemed remarkable before, but now, with desire clouding his mind, it felt like the finest suite in a love hotel. Pei Tingsong glanced at the moon beyond the glass, then pulled the sash from his waist. His clothes fell away, revealing his young, taut muscles.
“No wonder they rave about the view,” Pei Tingsong murmured, standing by the bed. He bent down, grasped Fang Juexia’s ankles, and pulled him closer—close enough to kiss, close enough to wrap those pale, long legs around his waist. “Perfect for making love.”
Pei Tingsong’s words were like a lit match tossed onto Fang Juexia’s heart, setting an entire field ablaze.
He could only surrender to Pei Tingsong’s kiss, opening his legs obediently, moaning for him with that voice everyone raved about. He was the ripe, juicy peach, split open by Pei Tingsong’s fingers. Sweet nectar oozed from the wound, growing thicker and more viscous with each deeper, faster thrust, the wet sounds growing louder.
When the fingertip struck that sensitive spot, Fang Juexia arched his entire body, his supple waist tensing into defined muscles. He clung to Pei Tingsong’s name in sticky whispers, reaching out to embrace him.
“Feels good?” Pei Tingsong ground against the sensitive spot, kissing his cheek softly.
“Good… so good…” Fang Juexia was already lost in desire, turning his face to kiss Pei Tingsong’s lips. But Pei Tingsong dodged him, increasing the pressure of his fingers on that spot deep inside. With a mischievous tone, he asked, “Brother, this will make you come, won’t it?”
Fang Juexia’s lower abdomen grew increasingly tense, a hot surge burning through his flesh. “Mm… I… I want to come…”
“That won’t do.” Feeling him suddenly clench his bowels around the finger, Pei Tingsong paused the stimulation of his prostate with the hand holding his penis. Fang Juexia was abruptly halted from the bliss of approaching climax, writhing and struggling beneath him. “It feels so bad… Pei Tingsong, you… bastard…” He weakly punched Pei Tingsong’s chest, only fueling his partner’s amusement. “I’m managing your ejaculation. You always cum three or four times when I fuck you, then blame me afterward.” He lowered his head, licking Fang Juexia’s hardened nipple. “Tonight, you get one release.”
“No… I really can’t take it, Ting Song…” Fang Juexia’s voice softened. “I feel so bad…”
“Me too, big brother. Look how hard I am.” Pei Tingsong stood beside the bed, grabbing Fang Juexia’s feet and pressing them onto his erect penis. “Can you feel it?”
The soles of his feet pressed down, almost able to feel the bulging veins beneath. The spot where his ankle was gripped burned hot. Fang Juexia turned his face away, biting his lip in shame.
“If you want to come, hold your legs up and spread them for me to enter.”
Consumed by lust, Fang Juexia had lost all will to resist and could only obey. Pei Tingsong knelt halfway on the bedside, guiding his swollen member to Fang Juexia’s stretched opening. The moment he entered, Fang Juexia cried out. The thick, hard shaft felt like it would split him in two—one half clinging to lucidity, the other succumbing to depraved lust.
The massive head ground against his slippery walls as it pushed deeper, until the sac pressed against his entrance. Pei Tingsong kissed his sweat-drenched face as if rewarding him. “You’re amazing, Brother. You took all of me inside.”
With that, he thrust his hips forward with lightning speed. Fang Juexia pressed his forehead against Pei Tingsong’s, moaning and gasping amidst the jostling motion, his name slipping from his lips in increasingly high-pitched cries, “Ah… ah…” Pei Tingsong suddenly slowed down, no longer seeking speed. Every two seconds, he thrust to the deepest point. Fang Juexia’s moans changed too. When he thrust in hard, Fang Juexia would cry out, his voice echoing in the air before abruptly fading away, only to be replaced by the second, third thrust.
“Faster… Ting Song, Ting Song…”
Pei Tingsong loved it when he begged in bed, because he truly needed it. So he gave him what he wanted, fucking him until he felt like a boat tossed by waves, fucking him until those legs—usually taut only when dancing—clung tightly to his waist, his flesh parting to reveal tender skin, his lips unable to hold back his tongue.
The phone suddenly rang. The vibration yanked Fang Juexia out of his pleasure, the separation feeling cruel. But he had no choice. “Phone… phone, Ting Song, someone’s calling me…”
“Who else could it be?” Pei Tingsong reached out to grab the phone, holding the screen up for him to see, though his hips kept thrusting relentlessly, each word laced with the rhythm of his movements. “Ling Yi. Answer it?”
Fang Juexia bit his lower lip and shook his head, but Pei Tingsong pressed the answer button anyway. He leaned down, pressed the phone to Fang Juexia’s ear, slowed his thrusts, and licked and kissed the side of his neck.
“Juexia?” Ling Yi’s voice came through, the youthful innocence washing over him despite the static and signal interference. “Where are you? I thought you were coming to the hot springs. Why haven’t you arrived yet?”
His voice was too pure, making Fang Juexia feel shamefully depraved. His teammate was looking for him, yet here he was beneath the youngest member, being fucked until he spasmed.
Stifling a moan, Fang Juexia desperately searched for an excuse. “I… I’m in the media room…”
“You went to watch a movie? At this hour? Is Xiao Pei there too?”
Ling Yi’s voice was loud enough for Pei Tingsong to hear. He deliberately leaned close to Fang Juexia’s other ear and whispered, “Watching a movie? You’re clearly starring in your own porn film.”
“Mm…” Pei Tingsong thrust deep inside, and Fang Juexia nearly climaxed while holding the phone. He felt like he was dying, tormented by his own shame.
“Fine, watch it then. I still want to soak in the hot springs with you. I’ll hang up now.”
“What? Is it such a shame you couldn’t soak with them?” Pei Tingsong withdrew. “We can still go now. I won’t do it anymore.”
“You bastard, you son of a bitch…” Fang Juexia’s face flushed crimson. Scouring his entire vocabulary of profanity, these were the only insults he could muster—utterly toothless ones at that.
“You called me… Big brother’s been misbehaving, so I need to punish you.” Pei Tingsong flipped him over onto the bed, his arm wrapping around his waist to position him kneeling face-down against the floor-to-ceiling glass. His palm smacked his butt a few times, the slaps echoing sharply. Fang Juexia’s skin was so pale, each slap left a vivid red mark—beautifully so. “How can you be so beautiful everywhere?” Pei Tingsong kissed the pink tip of his buttock. “You look good no matter what.”
His pride was shattered, shards of glass piercing his lust-filled heart. It didn’t hurt, it didn’t make him sad—instead, it brought a brutal kind of pleasure.
“Brother, lift your ass higher. It feels better this way.” He kissed Fang Juexia’s waist crease, then leaned over his back, licking the soft skin behind his ear. “Do you know what this position is called?”
Fang Juexia felt he was about to lose control, unable to think. “I don’t know… I don’t know.” His hot breath fogged the glass with a layer of white mist. Pei Tingsong thrust into him violently, making him want to pull away, but there was nowhere to go.
“Doggy style. Isn’t it adorable?” Pei Tingsong kissed the butterfly bone beneath his shoulder, using that innocent tone to utter the most obscene words. “Big brother looks just like a little bitch like this.” His movements were fast and brutal, leaving Fang Juexia utterly defenseless. He could only cry out in response, “Too deep… Tingsong…”
“What did you call me?” Pei Tingsong gripped his jaw and thrust deep inside him. “Think before you speak.”
“Ah…” Fang Juexia clung to his last shred of stubbornness. Remembering what he’d said last night, he refused to utter the name, only moaning in response.
“So stubborn.” Pei Tingsong seemed to have anticipated this. He lifted his body, mercilessly gripping Fang Juexia’s slender waist as he thrust fiercely. He fucked Fang Juexia until his hips buckled, until his speech became slurred and incoherent, his head banging against the glass. “Tingsong… um… stop, really, really…” Though his thrusts were fierce, Pei Tingsong couldn’t bear to see his precious one hurt. So while he fucked him, he pulled him back, dragging him like prey without letting go. “You say stop, and I’ll stop.” He pinned Fang Juexia’s hands behind his back, gripping both wrists with one hand.
Fang Juexia became a horse for him to ride. Thrusting and bucking, he was fucked into losing all sense of self—no escape, no dodging. Burning desire consumed him, leaving only sticky ash behind, mingled with fluids, tears, blood, or perhaps glandular secretions dripping down. He couldn’t tell.
“The scenery outside is so beautiful, like making love by the lake. Too bad it’s too dark for my brother to see…” Pei Tingsong’s voice was laced with low gasps, drawing breath back with deadly sensuality. “Brother can only feel himself being fucked, unable to see anything.”
Yes, he couldn’t see. He was a blind man drowning in the lake of lust. He could only feel the pleasure of being penetrated, only hear the sounds of their union. He was filled to bursting, thrown skyward, no longer himself.
“Ah… ah… I’m going to die…” Fang Juexia began to babble incoherently. His toes curled, reaching to embrace Pei Tingsong but only grasping the bedsheets. “Tingsong, I can’t… don’t…”
“Die? Didn’t you forbid me from saying that word? Why are you saying it yourself, baby?” Pei Tingsong gripped his cock. The movement terrified him. Fang Juexia struggled desperately, afraid he would block his release again, writhing like a fish. Pei Tingsong pinned him down. “Call me. Be obedient. Call me nicely, and I’ll let you come.”
Each deep thrust, the viscous union, Pei Tingsong’s coaxing—it all blended seamlessly, stealing Fang Juexia’s last shred of sanity. Tears streamed down his face as he lay beneath the invasion, shoulders shaking. “Husband… husband… please… let me come… okay?”
Pei Tingsong held his lover, driven mad by desire, wishing he could sink completely inside him. To thrust in, to grow wild within him—if only he could, he would forever parasitize his heart.
“Alright, alright. I’ll let you come.” He lifted Fang Juexia up, seating him against his back atop his burning shaft. One hand massaged his scrotum while the other cupped his face, kissing his birthmark and wiping away his tears.
Fang Juexia knelt on the bed, no longer himself. Facing a vast, cold lake, he actively rocked up and down, letting this thing thrust inside him. He felt Pei Tingsong panting hot breath against his shoulder, repeatedly calling his name, calling him baby, calling him brother, shooting himself completely into his body.
Having taken everything from his lover, he too screamed as he came.
Semen blocked by the glass, it flowed downward, as if about to fall into the lake.
And so ripples spread across the lake.
Stealing kisses under the noses of teammates thrilled him more than laying everything bare in broad daylight.
Pei Tingsong had given him too many unforgettable thrills to ever quit.
