REMIX

I'm not sure what time it is, the morning sky is light blue as clear as water, and the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room let in some cool breeze, and I can hear the quiet and quiet sound of the pendulum moving.

He took a sip of boiled water, and gave it to me a little while kissing.

I couldn't make a sound, and my suppressed heartbeat cooperated with him to swallow slowly. When the cool and sweet liquid was scoured away, we were left with pure entanglement of lips and tongues.

But I am getting more and more thirsty. From the physical level to the psychological level, this contact alone is far from enough for me. The less I want, the more I want.

He was finally willing to let me breathe, his playful eyes caught my reaction, but the kiss was uninterrupted, from the groove of the collarbone to my panting chest, my throat was scalded by the hot breath—we Both responded.

He bit my lip to untie the belt, I grabbed his shoulder with one hand, and groped subconsciously with the other hand, he raised my waist and rubbed it, frowning and smiling so sexy as hell.

So there should be a perfect excuse for everything.

"Summer break."

In the aftermath of venting, I was still unwilling to let go of the hand holding him, and a slippery finger was pressed against the narrow slit in the back, and my whole body froze as if facing an enemy.

He also felt it, so the hesitation only lingered for a breath, and then he stopped.

"You know I'm not softhearted."

He was buried in the socket of my neck, the beating of his heart was close to me without any barrier, his breath was moist and scorching, like a beast about to bite off my neck.

"But until you're ready, I respect your wishes."

"Next time I'll get in," he said, "you won't stop crying."

It wasn't until I sat in his family's jacuzzi, pillowed on the edge of the sauna wood and looked up at the ceiling, that I realized I was awake.

My body is like a skin that has been hollowed out. The experience of last night is like a fleeting image, interspersed with realistic sound effects and pictures, occasionally interrupted by the steaming heat in front of my eyes, forcing me to return to reality.

It can be regarded as a drunken hallucination, because I am still the poor boy whose life is hanging by a thread in the gap between dreams and life. I live in a rented house. I am always worried about my hunger. I am used to being poor. I am afraid that something will happen one day, and I will always hold my breath, not daring to relax.

I put my left foot on the outside of the bathtub, looked at the milky white foam on the water with no expression, and splashed a handful of water on my face.

The post-binge emptiness turned out to be no curse.

Gong Junye was shaving in front of the mirror, within reach of my hand.

He had just gone to the downstairs bathroom to take a shower, and his upper body was still stained with wet water. He took back the box of money that we had left on the corridor floor the night before, and put it on the quartz stone sink.

I asked, how much money is there?

He didn't answer me for a long time, but asked, "Do you like money?"

The sound of dripping water was crisp and ethereal, and I closed my eyes at the dark green tiles on the ceiling in different shades, "Of course."

"What do you think I'm going to say next?"

He sat down on the edge of the bathtub, opened the hidden button of the safe, the silver-gray lock popped open, and the bundles of banknotes were instantly exposed to the steaming air.

He picked up a bundle and fiddled with his crooked palms, "'I had a miserable childhood, lacked love, was withdrawn, and no amount of money could buy happiness'? No, baby, I'm not that vulgar."

"How can spiritual poverty blame material wealth." He laughed, "Fuckthatshit."

I opened my eyes wide and looked at his open hand in mid-air.

The banknotes were thrown away by him, and they covered the surface of the bathtub in a short while. The wet banknotes floated and sank, staining my pupils red.

Root of all evil.

"I can buy all the future life you missed and lost, as long as you promise me."

"Anytime, live as fearlessly as you do in your poorest days. Don't love money, love me."

"Let me give you what you want."

He lifted me out of the cooling water and wrapped me in a fluffy bathrobe.

I want to pull me away, but like a tree stump with roots under my feet, my heart is also entangled, and I can't make sense of the past that has been entangled in these years.

I couldn't wait to grit my teeth and stomp my feet to make up my mind, so I pulled him to a stop on the stairs with all my strength.

I said, I like you.

He stopped on the lower steps and looked up at me, what?

I think it's very strange, I've said all the more nasty things, and I've done more intimate things, but if I can't say this sentence in person, or use paper and pen, body language and other methods that are not frank, I feel that there is something wrong with it. What is missing.

It's like wanting to spend my heart and soul with someone, but finds that there is nothing eye-catching, and blames myself for being powerless.

I said I like you.

Thinking that these thin words are not convincing enough, I avoided his eyes timidly like nostalgia, and added in a timely manner, yes...it is the kind of delicious food that I want to feed you first, I like it.

I hate that I'm a rap guy, I'm good at work but hard at work.

I was very disappointed in myself, pretending to boldly push away the culprit who caused me to stutter, but he squinted his eyes, bent down to hug me because of the upside-down height difference, ignoring the obstacles of time and atmosphere, trying to daydream Prostitution.

"Why didn't I just deal with you directly." He breathed on my ear, "Feed me something else first, baby."

"No..." I grabbed the slippery handrail of the stairs with all my strength, and refused to give in. "I'm going to school in the afternoon to get my report card, and you have to go to work, now."

Persuading a man with a sperm and brain is more difficult than holding a pit bull out of the market. He weighed it in place, considering that this is really not a suitable time for willfulness, and finally chose to let me go, restrained his emotions, and calmed down. He asked eagerly, "The college entrance examination results have come down."

I straightened my skirt, "Well, let's call when the time comes."

"Discuss with me which school to apply to." He opened the door of the cloakroom, picked out a suit of clothes for me, "Anyway, give me a call at night, no matter what happens or not, there are no more than one person who knows my phone number." Ten, don't worry if I'm free."

I changed my clothes behind his back, picked up the bathrobe that fell on the floor, "Don't send it to me, husband."

"Okay... hmm?"

So I rushed downstairs before he could grab me, into the hot late June sun.