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What he was like in bed was completely at odds with his usual timid, restrained demeanor.
On the bed, Shen Wang would be reduced to soft, broken whimpers as Gu Chong pinned him down beneath his body. He would be fucked until his ass turned red, even his voice breaking into a childish, breathy tone under Gu Chong’s relentless thrusts.
After finishing his cigarette, Shen Wang had originally intended to take a shower. But when he turned around, he realized Gu Chong was studying him.
Shen Wang met his gaze with a faint, crooked smile.
Gu Chong immediately looked away.
But his ears had already betrayed him—flushed a vivid red, exposing everything he refused to say.
Shen Wang walked back and straddled him again.
“What are you thinking about?”
His fingers toyed with the half-soft, half-firm length between them. Gu Chong had just come; he was still in that hollow, unfocused state after release.
“I’m not thinking about anything,” Gu Chong said stiffly. “Stop touching.”
But Shen Wang’s movements were deliberately skilled, teasing and unhurried. He played with him until the arousal beneath him rose again, pressing hard against Shen Wang’s lower abdomen.
Only when he saw Gu Chong’s wheat-toned face slowly redden did Shen Wang finally look satisfied.
Gu Chong, clearly flustered, snapped, “Wasn’t I just enough for you?”
Shen Wang leaned in and licked his throat like a lazy kitten, breath warm and uneven.
“You were really good,” he murmured, voice soft and breathy. “But I like you. So I want to stay with you… all the time.”
“You—”
Gu Chong’s brows tightened sharply. In one sudden motion, he flipped Shen Wang onto the bed and pressed him down beneath him again.
Then he entered him once more.
Shen Wang trembled violently under his weight, completely enveloped, overwhelmed, and unable to hold back a plea.
“Slower… go slower…”
“You brought this on yourself,” Gu Chong said lowly.
He had extraordinary stamina—rarely finishing quickly. Shen Wang was already overstimulated, his body soft and sensitive, friction dragging him into a helpless haze. Yet Gu Chong still lifted his legs and changed angles, pushing in from the side again.
Shen Wang’s body was numb and swollen, his thoughts scattering.
“Hubby…” he blurted out.
Gu Chong rarely indulged his pleading. Most of the time, Shen Wang would end up tearful and exhausted before Gu Chong finally relented.
Now, Gu Chong bit down on the back of his neck like a beast restraining its prey.
“Don’t call me that.”
Shen Wang rested his head against Gu Chong’s chest, still trembling.
“Hubby… I really can’t anymore…”
Every time he called him that, Gu Chong seemed to lose control a little more easily.
Eventually, Gu Chong came, spilling heat deep inside him.
Shen Wang felt utterly soaked—messy, sticky, exhausted.
His body was drained to the point of collapse.
But strangely, his spirit slowly settled.
He loved this part most—the quiet after sex.
Something he had never told Gu Chong.
Gu Chong, sweating and still breathing heavily, lying on top of him… looked dangerously sensual, yet faintly vulnerable in a way rarely seen.
Compared to the dominant, unshakable Gu Chong, Shen Wang preferred him like this—lost, softened, like a fierce predator that only became gentle in front of him.
He ran his fingers through Gu Chong’s hair again and again, like soothing an animal.
But Gu Chong always disliked it.
“Don’t treat me like a child,” he would say.
“I’m not,” Shen Wang would answer softly. “I just think you’re cute. I want to hold you.”
Gu Chong’s body was still damp with sweat, yet he still pulled Shen Wang into his arms.
Shen Wang closed his eyes in contentment, like a cat that had eaten its fill.
In a low voice, Gu Chong asked, “Do you love me?”
“Yes,” Shen Wang answered without hesitation, eyes still half-lidded.
Then Gu Chong asked again—
“Then would you marry me?”
The dream abruptly shattered.
Shen Wang jolted awake.
He sat up suddenly, breath uneven.
His underwear was still damp.
His body still half-limp with lingering arousal.
But his heart sank straight to the bottom.
He remembered his answer clearly.
He had laughed.
And said—
“Don’t joke like that.”
Chapter Five
He was very good at ruining things.
For example, just now while drinking, he had knocked over his favorite bottle of alcohol. Red wine spilled across the carpet like blood.
He froze, overwhelmed by the sudden mess.
Then decided—first a cigarette.
After that, he would call a cleaning service.
His eyes drifted to Gu Chong’s WeChat.
But he didn’t message him.
For two years, he had drunk so much, smoked so much, all in an attempt to stop thinking about Gu Chong.
Everyone said it was ridiculous.
That after a breakup, he had fallen into a delusional spiral of devotion.
He wanted forgiveness.
He wanted to kiss him again.
Hold him again.
But he had forgotten something far more important—
Back then, he had been the cruel one.
Only when he finally realized he loved Gu Chong did Gu Chong leave him.
Changed his number.
Disappeared completely.
No address.
No trace.
Shen Wang had no way of finding him.
And no right to ask for anything back.
He drifted through life in a fog, slowly realizing this truth.
Two years ago, not long after they broke up, he understood—too late—that he loved Gu Chong.
It felt like being dragged into a swamp.
No matter how hard he struggled, he couldn’t get out.
He stopped going to bars and parties.
Stopped caring about anything.
Stayed home drinking and smoking.
He wasn’t in pain, exactly.
Just hollow.
Living on alcohol and nicotine, day after day.
And whenever he thought he might finally break free from it—
He would fall into another dream.
Small, persistent, aching.
Haunting him like a shadow.
He often dreamed of having sex with Gu Chong.
In bedrooms.
In living rooms.
Even in a decaying attic.
He could feel the dust in the air, hear the old mattress creaking.
Like watching a rotten, decayed film of desire.
Every time he woke up, his underwear was wet.
And his chest felt unbearably empty.
Viki once introduced him to men who resembled Gu Chong.
Young. Dominant. Sharp-edged.
He could smile at them.
Kiss them.
He even slept with one of them.
But he slowly realized—
None of it was the same.
The faint lines at the corners of their eyes when they smiled were different.
Their voices were different.
Everything was different.
And he was ruined by that realization.
One night, he woke up beside a stranger snoring soundly.
He buried his face in the pillow and cried in despair.
How pathetic did he have to be—
To mistake someone like this for Gu Chong?
After that, he could no longer have sex with anyone.
Not even pretend to be careless about it.
He developed a strange habit.
He would find men who looked vaguely like Gu Chong.
Bring them to hotels.
But never let them touch him.
He only asked them to sit there.
And smile at him.
People called him insane.
But when he placed thick stacks of cash on the table, they stopped asking questions.
Shen Wang knew he was sick.
He just didn’t know how to be cured.
