Go to China!

by Phail
illustrated by re_vanessa

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/141773.html)

“Go to China!” his father said. “See the world!” his mother added. (“Use all those seemingly useless ‘dialects’ you learned in college!” his own brain chimed in, treacherously.)

Somehow, Roger was fairly sure that this was not what his parents had meant: a sleeper car on a zhida train– overnight direct express– from Wuhan to Shanghai.

It wasn’t actually horrible, despite Roger’s initial misgivings about being a foreigner sharing a car with three curious Chinese. They asked questions only at the beginning of the trip, before the train departed, and Roger answered them easily: no, he wasn’t here to teach English; he had an internship at a brokerage in Shanghai waiting for him, thanks to his father; he looked forward to sleeping the entire way.

Their Mandarin wasn’t as hard to understand as he’d feared, either. Growing up in a very diverse neighborhood did have its advantages, he thought with a homesick smile. Not to mention studying different dialects of Chinese at university for years, too– he was glad his parents had finally agreed to it in the end, even if they had been properly disgusted when he hadn’t been able to find a job after he’d gotten his Master’s. But he wasn’t meant to be thinking about that; he was meant to be sleeping, and so he pushed his thoughts away and lay down to sleep.

He’d been on trains before– it was unavoidable when traveling around China, as far as he could tell– although he’d never slept on one. The lack seemed to be his downfall; he could not fall asleep. On finally opening his eyes and looking across the car at the man on the bunk opposite– Chang Bai, if he recalled correctly, although it could have just as easily been Cheng Bao– he realized he wasn’t the only one unable to sleep.

“Are you Roger?” Bai, or Bao, whispered across to him with a fleeting smile.

Roger smiled a little inwardly at the sound of words spoken with what he was pretty sure was a southwestern native accent. It was beautiful, exotic, and completely normal all at once. “That’s my name. Chang Bai?”

Bai nodded. “You don’t sound very foreign.”

Since the other two occupants were no doubt trying to actually sleep, despite their rude cabin-mates, Roger suppressed the laugh he would have otherwise given. “I made the effort to learn early, because it seemed fun.” Much more fun than sports, anyway.

“Ah. How did you come by a position in Shanghai? Isn’t working in the US better?”

Better, probably, if you didn’t happen to be his parents and believe that a boy must travel the world before he is a man. “I wanted to see what China was like.”

At that, Bai smiled broadly. Roger’s breath caught a little in his chest and he thought the same thing as earlier: beautiful, yet so normal-looking. As far as he knew (he was suddenly thankful he’d thought to look it up) homosexuality wasn’t accepted here the way it was back home, so trying to initiate a gay experience might be– risky. Especially with the rest of the trip still ahead of them.

“Do you like it?” Bai asked, after staring at Roger for long moments. Many, many heartbeats.

“I love it,” he said without meaning to. He colored and hid his face under the blankets a little, rubbing at one cheek.

“Don’t be ashamed,” Bai said, clearly mistaking Roger’s emotions, and thank god for that. “It is okay to love another country more than your own.”

Roger peeked out from under the blankets. “Thank you,” he said, because it seemed the right thing to say.

“You’re welcome.” Again, that smile. “I’m going to sleep now. I hope you can sleep, too.”

“Me too,” Roger said, even though he knew that he probably wouldn’t.

illustrated by re_vanessa

His father, who worked at the American branch of the company he was scheduled to intern at, had flown to China a month ago and set up all of Roger’s living arrangements. During that time Roger was still backpacking around the countryside, and felt a bit odd going up to an apartment that was supposedly his but that he’d never seen before.

The key stuck in the lock a bit; Roger had to wiggle it just right to get it out once he’d unlocked the deadbolt.

The apartment wasn’t better or worse than he’d expected from his father’s descriptions. Not too big, not too little, with a pint-size kitchen that Roger would probably never use.

He flopped down on the couch that his father had no doubt wrangled and sighed– he hadn’t slept well on the train, and it seemed like every time he’d opened his eyes Bai had been looking at him with the faintest of smiles playing on his lips.

Shanghai’s a big city, he told himself, and went to bed.

The fates, Roger decided, were cruel bitches and this was one of their practical jokes: Chang Bai was one of the other interns starting at the brokerage.

It wouldn’t have been a problem, except for the little fact that the two of them, along with three others, would be competing for the one open position at the company. Which meant they were against each other from the start, which made the probability of a fling all the less likely. (Or would have, if Roger had really cared about getting the job. He was more worried about staying professional– for his father’s sake– than about actually getting the position.)

“It’s a pleasure to meet you again.” Bai shook Roger’s hand, beautiful smile replaced by a neutral sort of expression with just the slightest upward turn of his lips.

Like he thinks something’s funny, Roger thought. “Although it is a pity we’ll be against one another.”

Bai smiled then, not the beautiful smile but– almost wicked, mocking, damn him. “You think so? I look forward to the challenge.”

If they’d been in America, Roger might have taken that as flirting and flirted back. But they weren’t in America, and Bai was probably just relishing the opportunity to be better than Roger. He seemed so different from the intensely sweet man that Roger had met in the sleeper car. “May the best triumph.”

Roger got home from work that first day long after dark. His command of Shanghaiese was growing by leaps and bounds (his Mandarin had always been fine) but he felt worn through and through.

He was far too tired to fix supper, and he’d eaten at work in any case. Instead he went to take a shower and metaphorically beat his head against the tiled wall. This was stupid– wanting his co-worker. Trite and cliché and ridiculous, but he couldn’t stop the yearn.

So he jacked off thinking about Bai’s smile– the beautiful one– and then went to bed.

Bai was either the most subtle flirt that Roger had ever met, or he was doing these things on accident and he was the most clueless guy Roger had ever seen.

It wasn’t anything big– brushes of their hands, standing a little too close, and every so often Roger would look at Bai and catch Bai looking at him with an unreadable expression. Bai never looked away, but his lips curled into that mocking smile every time.

Just do it already, Roger pleaded mentally. If you’re going to flirt, flirt. At least that way I’ll know.

Here they called karaoke bars KTV, and it was a regular thing to go with one’s co-workers to them and get roaring drunk. The guy who was over the interns, Mr Jun, decided after two weeks that the five of them needed to loosen up a little and have fun while they were in Shanghai.

Mr Jun rented them a private room, “for several reasons,” he said when Roger asked why. Privately, Roger suspected it was because this was technically a company outing so it didn’t matter if they spent a little money.

With a huge smile, Mr Jun produced a list of the order of who would sing, while the waitress poured the first round of drinks. The drink of choice was a beautiful sort of milky color, and when Roger swished his glass around it stuck thickly to the sides. He didn’t have enough guts to ask after the proper name of the drink, since everyone else present seemed to know it already; he’d look it up on the internet later, when he got home.

Bai was up first, which wasn’t surprising. In the short conversation he’d had with Jian, one of the other interns, it seemed like Bai was the favorite so far for getting the position.

Once Bai started to sing, there was no more room for thoughts of any sort. The song he had chosen was varied in tempo– fast and slow mixed– and he seemed to know it quite well, but that wasn’t what made Roger breathless.

What made Roger breathless was the fact that Bai’s voice was no less beautiful than the smile that Roger hadn’t glimpsed since the sleeper car. More beautiful, maybe, a smooth tenor that didn’t crack at all and just flowed, liquid and gorgeous, much like the alcohol they drank.

Everyone applauded when he was done, as was only polite, but Roger really meant his applause and didn’t care if Bai knew it. They weren’t technically at work, anyway; wasn’t the whole point of this exercise to let loose a little?

Jian went next; his voice was baritone but he chose a song that had a few high notes and had trouble hitting them. Roger knew this song– it was commonly played on the radio– and he hummed along, partaking of the drink that had gone neglected during Bai’s turn at the microphone.

“Roger,” Mr Jun said, pointing at Roger as soon as Jian’s turn was over. Roger felt himself flushing– his own voice wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, but he couldn’t really brag about it either.

He managed to find some of the English songs that were on the machine and decided to sing Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You” because what the hell, having fun.

He did have fun– he belted it out and grinned and his fellow interns cheered and laughed and Roger had trouble by the end of the song, he was so close to laughing right along with them.

“I like your voice.” Bai had decided to take up the empty position next to Roger on the couch, and was smiling. Not the beautiful smile, but something close to it, a genuine smile that brightened his eyes.

“Thank you,” Roger said, feeling himself flush as he resumed his spot, far too aware of the way the outside of his leg pressed against Bai’s. “It is nothing compared to yours– I don’t even hear voices that nice on the radio.”

At this, Bai colored. He still smiled, but he colored too, and ducked his head to take a sip of his own drink. “My parents wished for me to have a stable career.”

He was acting like Roger had said something more than he had; interesting.

Their next co-worker took the stage, but Roger only paid half-attention. In addition to the outsides of their legs, their arms brushed together too, and Roger wished that they were wearing short sleeves instead of long so that he might feel Bai’s skin against his. Flight of fancy, but he was allowed to dream. Even if it did make him shiver a little and down the rest of his drink in a hurry.

“He has trouble with the low notes,” Bai said, halfway through the co-worker’s performance. Not like he was making fun, just mere statement of fact.

“He does,” Roger agreed, unsure what else to say.

The silence before had felt good, natural, but now his heart beat too fast and he couldn’t look away. Especially when Bai brought his drink to his lips and sipped at it, Adam’s apple working as he swallowed slowly.

Maybe he wouldn’t look up the name at home, after all. “What is the drink called?”

“Choujiu,” Bai said, and sipped again. Swallowed, too, then looked at Roger from beneath his lashes in a way that went straight to Roger’s cock. “You like it?” His words were low, husky, flirtatious.

Oh, dear. Roger had no more drink to hide behind, either. “Um, yes.” He held up his empty glass, as proof.

Bai laughed, and just like that the tension was broken.

At least now he knew that Bai was flirting on purpose– there was no mistaking that look paired with that tone. Now all Roger had to do was keep telling himself that a fling was a bad idea.

Hahaha, that’s a good joke, he thought. I am so fucked.

Roger had enough of a mastery of Shanghaiese now that he could at least manage (polite) conversation in that language, even if it was somewhat halting and full of awkward pauses while he stumbled over remembering words.

He could blame his lack of complete understanding for the possible misinterpretation of Bai’s question, a week after the first KTV session.

“Would you like to karaoke with me after work?”

Only, it was direct and used simple words even if it was in Shanghaiese. Roger just stared blankly, half-eaten lunch sitting there in front of him not giving him any sort of easy answers.

“I would be honored,” he managed, after a few more seconds of turning the words over, translating from English to Shanghaiese.

Bai smiled– the beautiful smile– and Roger couldn’t breathe. Luckily– or was it unluckily?– it was a fleeting thing, gone in the space of a couple heartbeats before Bai turned away.

He never did finish his lunch.

Roger didn’t think about it at the time, but it was Friday, which meant date night in America. He wasn’t sure of the cultural relevance of Fridays, here, or if there even was one, but the fact that Bai had asked him out on a Friday night…

He wasn’t going to think about that. He was going to stop fidgeting right now, too, because there was no sense in it.

Bai, when he finally came down to the lobby from the office, looked– sexy. Or maybe just relaxed, but on Bai relaxed equaled out to sexy because Bai was the type of person who was casually sexy without meaning to be. The first two buttons on his shirt had been unbuttoned and his cuffs as well, then rolled back twice.

And he was maybe studying Bai a little too closely. Possibly because he was nervous and just needed something to do with his mind that wasn’t running over all of the lame pick-up lines he was not going to use.

“Are you ready?” Bai asked, like Roger hadn’t been sitting down here waiting for ten minutes.

Roger slung his messenger bag over his shoulder and stood, mustering up courage and a smile for Bai. “As ready as I can be.”

There was a KTV place near the office, but Bai cautioned Roger away from it, saying something about “special” places and laughing and Roger didn’t really mind if it was a “special” place, when it made Bai look so adorable. He nearly said so, but then Bai spotted the place they were going and they rushed toward the intersection so they could cross while the crosswalk was still open. They had to run across, of course, and at the opposite side Bai was still laughing, but panting at the same time now.

Even winded as he was, Roger couldn’t help noticing that Bai was still— everything. Dark eyes bright with amusement, cheeks flushed in the humid air, chest heaving a little with exertion. He really hoped this was supposed to be a date because the longer they spent together outside of work, the more Roger wanted to fuck him. Like, exponential growth– by the second.

Inside the KTV bar, the neon lights were nearly blinding in the otherwise dimly lit place. They hadn’t had much with the lights, last time, because they’d had a room on their own. Now there were lights everywhere– Roger’s head spun with it, as the alcohol flowed– choujiu again– and before long it felt like even sitting on the couch and laughing with all the other people around him was– just. Wow.

And Bai was amazing; everyone saw it and there were at least two girls who were trying very relentlessly to flirt with him but Bai paid them very little attention. Enough to be polite, but that mocking smile was in place whenever he talked to them and Roger thought triumphantly, because he’s out with me.

“Hey,” Bai said, leaning close, one arm companionably around Roger’s shoulders as he collapsed on the couch after his Nth round singing. “How you holding up?”

Roger gave his best peace-sign-and-grin. He couldn’t help a little giggle, although– “I would rather be at the room I have rented.”

Bai’s eyebrows went up, which immediately made Roger feel stupid because this wasn’t America. He couldn’t just– ask guys to come home with him. But even so, Bai didn’t move away. He didn’t say no. He leaned in closer, instead, and said into Roger’s ear– “Lead the way.”

They didn’t do anything more than walk down the street side-by-side on the way to Roger’s. Or on the stairs up, or even right inside the door. It was such a departure from what he was used to, but then he remembered that homosexuality had only been recently decriminalized and decided to let Bai make all the moves. Much safer, that way.

Inside his apartment, he didn’t bother turning on the light and went straight over to his couch, the lights from the streets spilling in to illuminate his way. Bai didn’t touch the lightswitch, either, just following Roger over to the couch and sitting down next to him as he had at the KTV club, with one arm companionably around Roger’s shoulders. “How are you doing?”

“Mmmm,” Roger hummed, and dared to lean into Bai’s touch a little.

“That good?” Bai shifted, and all of the sudden he was straddling Roger and looking down with an expression like– like– pure visual sex. “And what about now?”

“Perfect,” some part of Roger’s brain managed, saying it in English by accident and then quickly saying it again in Mandarin, then Shanghaiese. Too many languages; he was too drunk for this.

Bai laughed, but not in a mean way. “May I kiss you?” he asked– in English.

“You need to ask?” Roger mentally gaped at the idea, while his hands made themselves busy cupping around the back of Bai’s neck and pulling him down for the kiss.

It wasn’t a let-down. Not at all. Bai’s lips were firm and sure against Roger’s– this was no fling born out of too much alcohol– and his hands were everywhere. Roger’s neck, his cheek, unbuttoning the top two buttons on his shirt and sliding in the collar, while Roger did his best to keep kissing and not do stupid things like gasp and moan into the kiss.

Roger wasn’t successful– not entirely– but Bai didn’t seem to mind. He was smiling when the kiss– kisses– broke. Beautiful smile.

Bai kissed him again, while Roger’s fingers found their way downward and pulled him closer, letting their hips grind together.

Roger realized somewhere in there that Bai had been restrained, a moment ago. Now he was anything but, instead dipping down into being dirty, making little noises into the kiss, biting Roger’s lip, thrusting his tongue inside Roger’s mouth with more force than was strictly necessary.

It made Roger’s knees weak, knowing Bai wanted him this badly, wanted this, kissed like this.

Or maybe that was the alcohol; when the kiss broke his head spun around and around until he opened his eyes. The world came into focus, then. Kind of. At least Bai was in focus, cheeks red and lips even redder.

“I’m drunk,” Roger said, and his voice came out an octave lower than normal and slurred. Plus, he wasn’t even halfway hard. Hell.

“You are,” Bai said, a little sadly. He shook his head, although he was smiling– mocking smile. “Would you like for me to tuck you in?”

“I’d like for you to fuck me,” Roger said, finally realizing that he was slipping into English again. Hell– he might get more out of this if he waited until he was sober. What in the world had made him drink so much?

Oh, right: the girls flirting with Bai.

“Later,” Bai said, low growl making the word a promise. “But right now, you would benefit more from sleep.”

And, apparently lots of water, which Bai made a point to force Roger into drinking before he’d let him anywhere near the bed. He left Roger for the night with a kiss on the forehead and a smile. The beautiful one, of course.

At work on Monday, Bai had a new smile for Roger. He gave it sidelong, covert, and so Roger decided to call it the secret smile.

Even with the secret smile ready and waiting for him, Roger didn’t really know what to say, what to do. He’d never been good with morning-after, which was why his track record for relationships was pretty patchy.

At least, he thought, I had an entire weekend to recover from the hangover. He’d needed it; Saturday had been the most miserable day since the day in college when he’d decided to swear off alcohol whenever he had any sort of classes the next day. Trying to do linguistics with a hangover was about as easy as when drunk, which was to say– he tended to do best with English.

And he was very possibly doing his best to avoid thinking about Bai. Forget possibly, actually– probably was a better word.

Thank goodness they had plenty of work to do, or he might have had to have that awkward conversation right away. As it was, they waited until lunch. Everyone else decided to go out; only Bai and Roger were left.

“Roger,” Bai said, abruptly, less than five seconds after the door had closed behind everyone else.

“Yes?” You sound nervous, he thought. Stop it.

“You’re avoiding me.”

So he was obvious. Roger bit his lip. “Yeah, I mean, I–”

“I can understand if you, um, are regretful of something you did when severely intoxicated–”

“No.” Roger made his voice, himself, firm. He could do this; he could talk about it without sounding like a shy schoolgirl. “I wanted to do that since– since the sleeper car.”

Bai smiled the secret smile. “Really?”

“Yes.” Roger couldn’t help his own smile, and didn’t want to, when it made Bai smile all the more. “Look, I was wondering…”

“Hmm?” Bai’s look turned wicked, but not mocking. Not quite.

“Would you like to come home with me after work? See if we can get along as well sober as we do drunk.” Which was stupid to say, because they already knew they could, they worked together, but.

Bai didn’t seem to mind that it was stupid. He just nodded. “I would be delighted.”

Work wasn’t quite so awkward, after that.

Of course “quite so awkward” didn’t mean it wasn’t awkward at all; there was a bit of confusion over meeting in the lobby of the building and whether they’d take the bus or walk. Roger felt so silly, by the time they were finally set out walking because it was a beautiful day, that he was afraid of speaking for fear of the words coming out wrong and leading to even more of that twisty feeling in his gut.

But then Bai looked over and smiled his secret smile Roger decided that maybe the silence between them was okay.

Inside Roger’s apartment, he wasn’t quite sure what to say or do. It seemed a bit– silly– to just sit on the couch and hold hands but…

But Bai knew exactly what to do. When Roger sat down, Bai straddled his lap– as he had before– and there was a sexy smile, all for him. Roger relished it as long as he could, which was only a few seconds before Bai leaned down and pressed their lips together.

The kiss wasn’t urgent, not exactly, but it was warm and felt nice. Roger opened up to it easily, both hands coming up to rest on Bai’s waist for a moment before one moved higher, cupping around the back of Bai’s neck as Roger groaned into the kiss. Bai’s weight on top of him was like a constant reminder, like an insistent little voice in his head that said oh please, oh please, oh please.

Bai laughed into the kiss, abruptly, breaking it and shifting and goodness that felt nice, the sudden contact of their cocks through layers of clothes, firm heat against firm heat.

“You are so easy,” Bai said– English– and shifted again in a way that made Roger’s eyes roll back as he tilted his head back and groaned.

Is easy a bad thing? Roger wondered, but didn’t dare ask.

“I like it. I like you.” Bai pressed his lips to Roger’s exposed neck, a kiss and then a lick, then the gentle scrape of teeth. That sent a shiver up Roger’s spine, a good shiver. “Tell me what you want to do.”

What he wanted to– suddenly Roger’s mind was completely blank. A second ago, he could have come up with any number of things, but suddenly there was nothing in his mind except the very here-and-now feeling of Bai on top of him, Bai’s tongue flicking over Roger’s neck.

“Go on. Anything you want.” Bite. Not hard, but a bite. “Tell me.”

“I want–” he had no idea, still. No Earthly idea, except that he liked the way Bai’s tongue felt. “I, um, if you want you could– you know– blow me. Or, uh, rimjob?”

“Rimjob?” Bai asked, pulling away a little nonono. “What is rimjob?”

Why did the language barrier have to interfere now, damn it? “Um, where you, you know, lick the other guy’s hole.”

Bai smiled, suddenly, incandescent approval of Roger’s words. “Yes. I would like to do that. Those. Both things.”

“Please,” Roger said, not above begging because he sort of really liked those a lot and it wasn’t often that guys really wanted to and Bai seemed to love the idea and– oh, Bai climbing off of him left him feeling suddenly cold, uncomfortable. “Bai–”

“Undress.” Bai was already doing it.

Roger really should have realized that was why Bai pulled away. His cheeks were hot with shame as he unbuttoned his shirt and shoved down his slacks and was sitting naked on the couch before the blush had even started to go away. Bai, meanwhile, knelt and walked on his knees toward Roger. Hooded eyes, sexy smile, naked and the rest of him was just as nice as Roger had imagined. Not quite muscular, but not so thin as to be girly. Not with the cock that stood straight and proud as he moved, swaying back and forth.

“Open your legs.” Bai’s hands on either of Roger’s knees, it was just as much Bai forcing them open as it was Roger opening them. But– that was fine. Bai’s hands cupped around the back of Roger’s knees after that and dragged him to where his ass was just barely hanging off the couch.

He’s really going to do it, Roger thought. His cock jumped at the idea. Bai noticed and leaned down, licking a quick swipe up it, dark eyes fixed on Roger’s face the entire time. So fucking hot.

Bai’s tongue was warm and wet on the second swipe, slower and less teasing, and he finally looked away from Roger’s face. Finally focused on Roger’s cock and dear Lord Bai was by no means a first-timer with the entire gay thing. He sucked cock like– not like a professional, because he wasn’t trying to hurry Roger along– but like someone who was good at it.

Really good at it, Roger thought, stifling the moan he wanted to give with the back of one hand. He shoved his knuckle in his mouth as Bai continued, biting down– gently– because the walls were thin and the last thing he wanted was the neighbors coming over to check on him.

Gradually, Bai’s hand replaced his tongue on Roger’s cock. Slowly, with loops down where Bai licked the insides of Roger’s thighs and sucked on his balls and– around and around, loops, inching lower until Bai finally reached up and found Roger’s hand. Wordlessly, he wrapped Roger’s fingers around his own cock, giving a quick, encouraging smile before using both hands to spread the cheeks of Roger’s ass wide and– yes.

Warm and wet and it made Roger squirm and whimper because more, he needed more. Bai gave it, too, pressing his tongue inside, gently gently. So careful, while Roger felt like he was shaking apart.

“Lubricant?” Bai asked, but Roger was too– couldn’t–

Bai’s hand closed over the one Roger was wanking himself with and he lay his head against the inside of Roger’s thigh and that was just, so beautiful.

“Lubricant?” he asked, again.

Roger took his hand out of his mouth and pointed a none-too-steady finger at the bathroom.

Cold, the room felt so cold without Bai kneeling there. The sound of him rummaging around seemed so far away, too, some alternate reality that wasn’t here and now.

“I can’t find it!” Bai called in English, and cursed in Mandarin.


Roger stood, but was none too steady on his feet and ever so glad for once that it was a tiny apartment and he wouldn’t have to walk far. It felt like every movement he made was connection to his cock, to the cool air on it, to– Bai. Who looked so delicious, kneeling there in front of the cupboard under the sink.

“In the mirror,” Roger said, and Bai looked up. It hadn’t occurred to him that the lubricant might be hiding there, Roger guessed.

“A-ha!” Bai said, nearly comical with his discovery. But the look he gave Roger was anything but comical, just the opposite, steamy in a way that made Roger want to get on his knees right here and prove that he was just as good at sucking cock as Bai was.

Well, just as enthusiastic, at least.

Bai pinned him to the tile wall with a kiss before Roger could do anything. Forceful, with a little bit of teeth and Bai growling in his throat in a nearly unbearably sexy way.

“Couch,” Roger gasped when the kiss broke, because it was kind of necessary. Bai just reached down and gave Roger’s cock a few quick tugs, then walked back to the living room.

Back at the couch, Roger sat down gracelessly. Didn’t matter, Bai was there to pull his ass over the edge again, to lean up and let his cock touch– not grind, just touch– Roger’s as he kissed. As he slid a finger inside of Roger, not at all timid about it. Sure and quick and it felt damned good.

Bai smiled when the kiss broke. Beautiful smile. “You look good like this.”

Roger cupped Bai’s cheek with one hand, thumb brushing over Bai’s lips. “You, too.”

For a surprise, Bai blushed. Not too badly, and his skin tone hid it a little, but it was still there and it made Roger laugh little gasping chuckles until he added a second finger. Worked them in and out, and those dark eyes so– intent. And the sensation of Bai’s cock just brushing his, every movement either of them made like a tiny explosion of sensation.

Feeling a bit– contrary– Roger reached down and wrapped his hands around their cocks, pressing them together. Bai shuddered and moaned, fingers stuttering to a stop as his back arched and his eyes fluttered shut.

Sensitive much? Roger grinned and found the lubricant, dribbling a bit over their cocks before he started to masturbate them, together like that. So good, the feeling of Bai’s weight on top of him, all but collapsed, his hips working into Roger’s hands, shallow little thrusts while his fingers dug into Roger’s hip.

“Don’t stop,” Bai whispered– Mandarin, which had to be his mother tongue. “Please. Please.”

Roger was good at obeying orders, especially this kind. He sped up the wanking just a little, giving a moan of his own because it felt– so nice. So nice, especially with Bai’s fingers still inside of him, curling, working in the same shallow motion as Bai’s hips.

“Please.” Bai’s voice was quieter now, broken up by soft little moans as he started to shake and Roger could just about feel it, feel the orgasm building in Bai with each little stroke, each movement. “Please. Please.”

“Yes,” Roger whispered, then his head fell back because he was coming, coming all of the sudden– he’d been so damn intent on Bai he hadn’t noticed himself building. But it was okay, Bai was pulling his fingers out now, pushing Roger’s hands away and wrapping his own around their cocks instead, then–

Coming. Beautifully, that blissed expression, eyes shut, and his mouth hanging open in a wordless moan and the rush of fluid on Roger’s bare stomach.

Roger readjusted himself, scooting back on the couch, one arm around Bai to hold him where he was because it just felt. Nice. Warm weight, and his knees felt weak anyway so. Yeah, whatever.

Bai’s eyes fluttered open after long enough that Roger’s breathing had evened out some. It didn’t feel like a long time, though. The semen between them was still sticky and wet. Bai grimaced, though only for a moment. “Shower?”

“Mmm.” Could he stand? Maybe. Probably. But he didn’t want to. “In a bit. Stay here, now.”

The chuckle Bai gave was tangible, a fleeting thing. Roger just pulled him closer and kissed him, content to say like this for as long as he could get away with.

“This may make work awkward,” Roger murmured against Bai’s lips. “But I don’t think I care. Do you?”

Bai smiled, secret smile. “I don’t care, either.”

Somewhere in the remainder of the weeks of the internship, Bai quit caring about who won and who lost. Roger had never cared one way or the other– he’d mostly wanted an excuse to spend a few months in China, because it had sounded more fun than spending the same months in America, looking for a job that wasn’t too likely to be found.

And then there was the fact that Roger was fairly sure at least Mr Jun had figured out about their relationship but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

They were polite and proper at work, always– what they did at home was their own business as far as Roger was concerned. Whether it was from that or them just not wanting it badly enough, neither of them got it. Jian won, and Roger couldn’t help but think that he deserved it. His family was from a rural area; a good part of the money he made in Shanghai would go to them.

It was more right than a singer or a linguist, neither of whom cared much about brokering, to get the position. It didn’t matter anymore, not when they had each other. The world outside their whirlwind of happiness was that much less important, which was fine by Roger.

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