Chronicles of the Beginning of Love

He Wang quite clearly knew the desire He Qingchuan had towards Qiu Huaijun. Some things were very hard to hide; for a seventeen-year-old male high schooler, even if desire didn’t hang on the lips, the eyes and the bulge in the pants revealed the blazing obscenity of it all.

When Qiu Huaijun first came to the He family, He Wang remembered the mole on his neck that revealed itself when he lifted his head, and the red tennis shoes he wore. They met him when they were twelve; at fourteen, they were still at opposing ends. Qiu Huaijun threw orange peels at them; the sun cooked them dry, the edges scorched and curling, but he didn’t give them a single glance.

If it wasn't for that tree— that tree Qiu Huaijun climbed, the one Qiu Huaijun threatened He Hairan with, he and He Qingchuan wouldn’t have found out his secret. On the back of Qiu Huaijun’s head was a scar about two centimeters long. He got it three years after he came to the He family, in September, when he was almost about to enter his first year of high school. That tree was Qiu Huaijun’s sacred altar; he was happy to make pilgrimages up there, unthinking that stepping on a branch would cause it to break, throwing him to the ground.

Qiu Huaijun looked to be strong, but the fall knocked him unconscious. The back of his head received stitches, and he slept at the hospital for the remaining few days. He Hairan ordered them to change Qiu Huaijun’s clothes for him, so the clothes wouldn’t get smelly. Like this, they discovered Qiu Huaijun’s secret.

However, He Wang didn’t act in the very beginning. He didn’t expect that He Qingchuan would be so brazen. That day, he pushed open the door to the hospital room and saw He Qingchuan jerking off at Qiu Huaijun’s face. He Qingchuan didn’t actually care that he saw; so much so that he only gave him a glance, then shot his come onto Qiu Huaijun’s face.

The corners of the mouth, the tip of the nose and eyes. A dirty and pure beauty.

He Wang took the revolver out of the car and opened the chamber, staring at that rubber bullet. He regretted not switching it out for a real bullet; if he directly shot it at He Qingchuan, then there wouldn’t be this aftermath.

Zhang-shu* drove the car away, seemingly afraid of the gun in his hand. He Wang curved his lips up, pointing the gun at Zhang-shu and pressing the trigger. “Bang.” Zhang-shu received a shock.

“Just joking.” He Wang put it away, using his fingerprint to enter the door. “Be careful on the road.”

After closing the door, He Wang stopped smiling. He didn’t turn on the lights either, going up the stairs in the dark. He Qingchuan obviously didn’t worry about him coming up; the door to the bedroom wasn’t even closed. He heard the sound of panting become louder, leaking out from the open door. He Wang knew whose moans those were.

Was Qiu Huaijun crying? He always cried, but his tears would only increase the desire to bully him. He Wang leaned on the doorframe, twirling the fake gun in hand. He watched Qiu Huaijun lean weakly into He Qingchuan’s chest, his head on his shoulder. He just exactly met He Wang’s eyes; his legs were forced open, two thin, long fingers moving inside his hole. Fluids spurted out. He Qingchuan heard a sound, but didn’t even turn his head back. “Close the door when you go out.”

“Doesn’t not closing the door mean you want me to see?” He Wang made an annoyed noise, eyes landing on Qiu Huaijun’s wet hole. “If you’ve really got the guts, fuck him in front of me. It’s not like you don’t.”

Qiu Huaijun sobbed and struggled, falling once again on the soft bed. He Qingchuan unhurriedly undid his pants, exposing his forcefully erect dick; there were veins popping out. He Qingchuan said, “If you want to watch, then watch.”

He Wang’s throat moved; the crotch of his pants bulged. Qiu Huaijun’s legs bent, the red-purple head of He Qingchuan’s cock rubbing past his wet hole again and again. Qiu Huaijun let out strained pants, turning his head to the side. His breasts were kneaded in He Qingchuan’s hands, the milk inside pumped empty; it only brought an aching, swollen sensation. He Qingchuan’s cock pushed past again and again. Qiu Huaijun mumbled, “It hurts… it hurts…”

He Wang’s eyes were red. He directly undid his pants, staring at how the thick cock slowly entered the tight, narrow hole. Qiu Huaijun’s hole contracted, desperately sucking in the thick cock. His voice carried tears. “It’s painful…”

He was practically a living Buddha— He Wang thought. He licked and touched and teased Qiu Huaijun that way in the restroom of the bar; it was akin to doing foreplay for He Qingchuan. He made his hole so soft, Qiu Huaijun didn’t need to feel pain anymore.

He Qingchuan spoke aloud. “How delicate.” He then leaned down to suckle at Qiu Huaijun’s small breasts, the slurping sound audible. Slowly, his dick began to thrust. It was largely because of the reason that Qiu Huaijun wasn’t clearheaded that his moans were exceptionally senseless, wanton and unrestrained. His fingers tightly gripped the bed sheet, the joints turning white. The red-purple cock completely entered his hole, fucking his sensitive, delicate pussy. White toes curled up. The intercourse created wet slapping sounds; fluids continuously leaked out, flowing between the cheeks and onto the bedsheet.

“I can’t take it anymore… ungh… go slower…” Qiu Huaijun dazedly begged him, his voice disjointed and inarticulate. He was flipped over again, his ass pointing in the air. He was born thin, but there was a lot of flesh on his ass. He Qingchuan grabbed his waist, his cock once again slowly breaching the opening of his hole and fucking in. His speed increased. Qiu Huaijun’s face was buried in the bedsheet, drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. He called out unintelligibly, his entire body swaying and shaking.

His body was too sensitive, rapidly bringing him to orgasm. His hole went through a wave of spasms, the back of his feet stretching taut. Yet He Qingchuan had no plans of sparing him; he continued fucking through Qiu Huaijun’s tear-filled begging for mercy, the head of his cock sliding against the soft, sensitive flesh over and over. The frequency increased, almost creating a thin foam. Qiu Huaijun collapsed in sobs, his whole body turning red. His voice could barely be heard. “No more…”

The movement of He Wang’s hand became faster. He imagined it was himself that was fucking Qiu Huaijun’s tender hole. When he came, Qiu Huaijun had his head turned over, watching him hazily. Tears so delicate they were like glass stained his eyelashes damp.

“He can’t take it,” said He Wang.

“That’s our business. Don’t forget, he’s mine tonight.” He Qingchuan cast a glance at him, his gaze carrying a bit of provocation. He turned his head back and continued fucking Qiu Huaijun. “When you go out, close the door.”

He Wang gritted his teeth. The black gun was thrown on the bed. He didn’t look back as he exited the bedroom, closing the door heavily.

The weather forecast failed; at least at nine in the morning, it was as sunny and cloudless as ever. Qiu Huaijun didn’t remember what dream he had; he only felt sore. He saw the sunlight penetrating through, stinging his eyes. Qiu Huaijun saw the courtyard, but didn’t see the buried tree pit at the center of the courtyard. He closed his eyes again.

He found that something was not quite right ten minutes later. The window hadn’t been closed. The temperature of the wind that blew in was moderate, brushing over his body. It brought a chill with it. Qiu Huaijun opened his eyes again, perplexedly looking at the outside. As an afterthought, he lowered his head to look at his body.

His mind became a flat buzz. Qiu Huaijun leapt up. The come in his hole followed his movement, slowly flowing out. He abruptly looked to his side and met He Qingchuan’s eyes.

He Qingchuan was dressed neatly, his wrist resting on his knee. He looked in his direction. “You’ve woken up?”

In that moment, Qiu Huaijun thought of nothing in his head. He was sure. He instinctively clutched He Qingchuan’s shoulders, slamming him against the wall. He stared into his eyes, gaze unwavering. His entire body shook. He didn’t have the time to pay attention to his naked state or the pain that radiated through his body like he’d been hard at work. His voice was hoarse as he asserted the truth. “You know.”

This was an established truth; to ask it was rather silly. Qiu Huaijun wasn’t a stupid person. He Qingchuan didn’t plan to reply, either; in fact, he kind of wanted to laugh. He watched Qiu Huaijun’s eyes— it was this pair of eyes that was constantly leaking tears last night. In contrast, today they glared at him, carrying despair.

“Is it still painful there?” He Qingchuan looked straight into his eyes. His voice was very soft, but held guarantee that Qiu Huaijun could hear it perfectly clearly. “I fucked you a little too hard last night. Do forgive me.”

Qiu Huaijun’s eyes instantly turned red, his chest rising and falling violently. He suddenly raised his fists. “Fuck you**, I’ll kill you!”

His fist was grasped by He Qingchuan, who easily caught it. At the same time, ice met his temple. Qiu Huaijun’s struggling stopped in midair. He stared disbelievingly at the gun in He Qingchuan’s hand, mouth opening and closing.

“If you don’t want to die—” He Qingchuan’s breath was warm against the side of his ear, “—then don’t move.”

Qiu Huaijun’s mind was a blank sheet of white. Maybe because of last night’s hangover, his thoughts were always a half-beat behind; he actually listened to He Qingchuan and stopped moving. For a time, all that could be heard in the room was his rough, heavy breathing.

He Qingchuan laughed for real this time, putting away the fake gun. “It’s a lawful society, personal use of guns is forbidden. Don’t be so nervous.”

After understanding that he’d been fooled, Qiu Huaijun got angry again. His lips moved, but he couldn’t say a single word; like he’d been unloaded of his entire body’s energy, he futilely clenched a fist. He Qingchuan didn’t hurry him either, watching Qiu Huaijun’s lowered eyelashes.

After a while, Qiu Huaijun lifted his eyes. “Give me a cigarette and clothes.” He strove to control his emotions. “Let’s talk.”

This request wasn’t hard. Qiu Huaijun had his wish fulfilled, receiving clothes and a cigarette. He put on a set of sportswear, pulling the zipper all the way to the top and covering the hickeys on his collarbones. He sat by the side of the bed, a cigarette between his index and middle finger. He stared at the tree pit and smoked— that pit had been buried flat long ago. It was only that, for some strange reason, grass didn’t grow. It only grew parched, light brown dirt.

Smoking a cigarette, to Qiu Huaijun, was two and a half minutes. He smoked two, grey vapor rising from the corners of his mouth. The atmosphere of the entire room became murky, the sunlight struggling to enter completely. Only when the third cigarette was blocked by He Qingchuan was Qiu Huaijun finally willing to look at him.

“Last night, I… I drank too much.” Qiu Huaijun tried to clear his thoughts. “I don’t remember…”

“I remember very clearly, do you need me to repeat it?” He Qingchuan slanted his head, looking at him. “I’ll repeat how you held me, how you opened your legs and showed your pussy. Or how I fucked you?”

“Don’t keep making me angry.” Qiu Huaijun clenched a fist again, his voice like it was being squeezed out. “It’s not good for you.”

“You won’t, Qiu Huaijun.” He Qingchuan lightly hooked his chin, forcing Qiu Huaijun to look at him. “You’ll only make me hide your secret.”

Regarding last night, the only regret He Qingchuan had was not kissing Qiu Huaijun. In that uninhibited performance where he acted to his heart’s content, he only wanted to hear Qiu Huaijun beg for mercy. He was also clear on Qiu Huaijun’s weak point. As expected, Qiu Huaijun didn’t move anymore. He said through gritted teeth, “...Then what do I need to do, for you not to reveal my secret.”

“You’re very smart, you ought to know my conditions.” He Qingchuan lowered his eyes, staring at his lips. “Right?”

Outside, that dense, thick cloud covered the sun, causing the room to dim for a time. It was almost as if a rainstorm was struggling in the deepest layers, wanting to come down— yet couldn’t. He Qingchuan saw the small mole on his neck, like a thin needle had pierced the skin, bringing forth vermillion-red blood. Qiu Huaijun let out a long breath, letting out an uncaring laugh. “Okay.

“I’ll listen to you.” Watching He Qingchuan, he paused, then said, “Ge.”

*叔; shu, means uncle, term of address for male 1+ generations older and not necessarily blood-related

**He says 操你妈 which lit. means ‘fuck your mother’

Author's note

FIRST BLOOD!

It seems that this can't be a short one TT it's a little long

***first blood is in English