Chapter 18 – Goodnight, Ning Ning

Flushed and heated from the alcohol, Xiang Ning shivered involuntarily when He Rong’s slightly cool hand touched his face. Coming to his senses, Xiang Ning nestled closer, nuzzling affectionately. He Rong’s heart softened with a surge of sweetness, he restrained himself, knowing it wasn’t right to do anything with Xiang Ning in this state, though his eyes grew deeper.

The pungent smell of alcohol clung to Xiang Ning. He Rong settled him on the sofa and went to the bedroom to run a bath. He hadn’t taken two steps when his shirttail was tugged. Xiang Ning’s pale fingers, tinged with pink, held on tentatively, a grip so light it could be easily broken.

He Rong stroked Xiang Ning’s messy hair and said gently, “The bathroom floor is wet. It’s slippery. Wait for me here, okay?”

Tears still glistened in Xiang Ning’s peach-blossom eyes. It was unclear whether he understood, but before He Rong could finish speaking, he started shaking his head.

He Rong had no choice but to lead him to the bathroom, where they both watched the rising water level in a daze.

The bath was ready, the temperature perfect. Towels and clothes were neatly arranged on the rack. But He Rong found himself in a predicament. How was he supposed to bathe him?

He looked at Xiang Ning, who was still playing with the water, and asked, “Can you wash yourself?”

Xiang Ning shook his head.

“Should I help you?”

Another shake of the head.

He Rong realized the futility of questioning someone so drunk. Sighing softly, he helped Xiang Ning out of his jacket. “Give me your hand.”

Less than a minute later, the young man was in the water, completely naked.

Several scars, varying in depth and length, crisscrossed his pale back. He Rong’s hand brushed against them, and Xiang Ning immediately curled up, looking at him with accusing, watery eyes. He Rong caressed his face and soothed, “Good boy, I won’t touch them.”

Xiang Ning yawned and leaned against the edge of the tub, his eyes fluttering closed.

He Rong resigned himself to washing Xiang Ning’s body, shampooing his hair, and applying body wash. Finally, after rinsing him off and drying him, He Rong felt a stirring in his pants, a small tent forming, his own face flushed from the steam.

Just then, Xiang Ning began to stir again, opening his eyes and wriggling, burrowing into He Rong’s arms like a distressed child.

He Rong half-carried, half-dragged him to the bedroom, playfully flicking Xiang Ning’s rosy nose.

“I won’t be so forgiving next time you drink this much.”

He tucked Xiang Ning into bed and turned to go to the bathroom. As if sensing something, Xiang Ning grabbed his arm. A drunk person’s strength is surprisingly formidable. He Rong couldn’t break free and had to sit back down on the bed, suppressing his frustration.

He undid his shirt buttons and sighed heavily.

Xiang Ning, however, seemed to have woken up completely. He watched He Rong as he dried his hair, his gaze unwavering. Then, as if confirming something, he lunged forward and captured He Rong’s lips.

His lips, warm and soft with the scent of alcohol, were like liqueur-filled candies, clinging firmly. He Rong supported him so he wouldn’t fall, one hand cupping the back of his still-damp head, and eagerly sucked the soft candy into his mouth.

The candy, softened by the water, was still warm and moist. He Rong swirled it around in his mouth before biting through the soft outer layer to savor the sweet and tart, alcohol-tinged center. His tongue probed the hollow inside, extracting the last bit of liqueur. The candy, initially compliant, soon began to squirm, dodging his tongue and darting around his mouth.

He Rong released Xiang Ning, watching as he came back to his senses, licking his lips and blushing crimson.

“Sober now?” He wiped Xiang Ning’s mouth, the glistening saliva making his lips look full and red. He shifted his position subtly, lowering his head to give them a gentle peck.

Xiang Ning nodded, shyly avoiding his gaze.

“Look here.” He Rong took his hand and placed it below his abdomen, asking with a smile, “What are we going to do about this, hmm?”

Now even Xiang Ning’s neck was flushed. He looked away, his long eyelashes fluttering like tiny fans, brushing against He Rong’s heart.

He Rong hadn’t intended to do anything. He pulled the covers over them, then touched Xiang Ning’s earlobe and said, “Go to sleep. Goodnight.”

Xiang Ning bit his lip and suddenly tugged at his shirt.

Skipping details of their canoodling.

He Rong’s belt was undone, his thick penis springing free, eagerly escaping the confines of the fabric. Xiang Ning’s hands couldn’t fully encompass it. He gripped it with both hands, biting his lip and blushing as he rubbed against it. He Rong supported his waist, his eyes already clouded with desire, and kissed his eyebrows and eyelids.

Xiang Ning’s hand moved a couple of times, but his initial courage quickly dissipated, leaving him unable to continue. He Rong’s large, well-defined hand enveloped his, guiding the up-and-down motion, while he pressed Xiang Ning’s head against his shoulder to ease his embarrassment.

“A little faster, okay?” He Rong asked. He waited patiently, feeling Xiang Ning nod.

The young man’s hand quickened, but the object of his attention remained stubbornly erect. His wrist began to ache. He looked up at He Rong with pleading eyes, giving him an appeasing kiss on the cheek.

He Rong chuckled softly. “Tired?”

Seeing the young man nod, he reached out and tugged at Xiang Ning’s waistband. The hem of his pajamas rode up, stopping just below his ribs, revealing his pale abdomen.

Xiang Ning flinched, the exposed skin flushing crimson with embarrassment. He Rong supported his waist, lifting him slightly, and slid his right hand down past his buttocks to the inside of his thigh. “Can I use this?” he asked, his voice gentle.

Xiang Ning whimpered softly, clutching He Rong’s collar like a lifeline.

He Rong’s shirt was already rumpled and pulled out of shape. He slid Xiang Ning’s pants down; the loose pajamas easily came off and fell to the floor. Xiang Ning buried his head, his smooth legs intertwined, his toes curling with shyness.

He Rong kissed his forehead tenderly, then lifted his chin, exchanging a lingering kiss.

Once Xiang Ning seemed ready, He Rong shifted their position, holding him close. He massaged his thighs, coaxing, “Good Ning Ning, squeeze tight.”

His penis entered fully, the glistening tip peeking out from between Xiang Ning’s legs. He Rong embraced him from behind, one arm around his slender waist, the other finding Xiang Ning’s hand, which was gripping the sheet. He intertwined their fingers, their hands mirroring their current position, intertwined and intimate. The temperature between them rose, a hazy warmth filling the air.

He Rong thrust against Xiang Ning’s thighs. Xiang Ning could feel the veins on his penis pulsing against him, teasingly brushing against his entrance. A tingling sensation, like an electric current, shot up his spine, spreading through every bone. He gasped, unable to make a sound, the wave of shame overwhelming him. He Rong’s grip tightened involuntarily, his movements accelerating until he came on Xiang Ning’s stomach.

The thick, musky semen trickled down the lines of his muscles, dampening Xiang Ning’s pubic hair, as if he had produced it himself. He Rong caressed his face. Xiang Ning tilted his chin up, their lips and tongues meeting, their hair mingling, the droplets on their skin indistinguishable between sweat and lingering bathwater.

He Rong kissed his forehead again and chuckled softly. Their chests pressed together, their heartbeats echoing each other, merging into a single rhythm.

Silence descended, as if time itself had stopped.

He Rong stroked Xiang Ning’s back, his hand moving rhythmically, a gentle caress. Xiang Ning rested his forehead against his shoulder, his arms curled around his chest. After a long while, long enough for Xiang Ning’s eyes to drift closed, He Rong whispered, “How about you move your clothes into the master bedroom tomorrow?”

Xiang Ning, drowsy and on the verge of sleep, took a moment to process the question. He Rong’s hand paused on the scars on his back, gently tracing their contours. Xiang Ning yawned and nodded slightly.

He Rong ruffled his soft hair. “Goodnight, Ning Ning.”

Xiang Ning parted his lips, mouthing a silent, “Goodnight.”