In a Relationship With the Rugged Guy Next Door - Chapter 25

Chapter 25: “I liked it. It felt pretty good.”

“Come here then,” Chu Feng agreed immediately.

Jingming’s heart felt like a trapped deer franticly bumping against his ribs. He adjusted his position until his upper body was practically sprawled over Chu Feng. He was small to begin with, and lying in Chu Feng’s arms with that shy, expectant gaze, even a “neutered old bull” like Chu Feng felt a stir of attraction.

He thought Jingming’s lips would be soft. He imagined that when they pressed together, he would be able to fully catch the faint, clean scent of his post-bath skin. It was innocent and lovely.

“Brother,” Jingming’s right hand slowly rested against Chu Feng’s chest. His hair brushed against Chu Feng’s nose. “When I hold you like this… do you feel anything?”

Chu Feng: “Mm.” It was a bit ticklish.

Jingming pursed his lips, his ears turning red. He leaned in slowly, his breath coming in quick gasps, and puckered his lips to press a kiss against Chu Feng’s.

Having been single since birth, Jingming had zero experience with kissing. In his imagination, it should be like a French film. Following the “lessons” from countless movie clips in his memory, Jingming devoted himself to the moment, slightly parting his lips to suck gently.

“Mmh…” Jingming wrapped his arms passionately around Chu Feng’s neck. Chu Feng, following the cue, placed his hands on Jingming’s lower back, pulling the smaller man completely into his embrace.

This is great, Jingming thought.

As Jingming’s saliva began to flow more freely, Chu Feng learned to take the initiative, shifting angles and grinding their lips together. Jingming could feel that Chu Feng was getting into it; his body temperature was rising.

“Brother…” Jingming let out a sweet, soft moan and tentatively poked out his tongue.

“Ngh!” Chu Feng reacted violently, pushing Jingming away as if by reflex.

A thin strand of saliva hung from the corner of Jingming’s mouth. Having been shoved aside, he froze in a daze for a long moment before realizing what had happened. A wave of intense shame and fury rushed to his brain.

“You!” Tears pooled in Jingming’s eyes from the grievance. He spun around and buried his face in the pillow.

Chu Feng slapped his own forehead in regret. He leaned over to coax him. “Baby, I didn’t mean that. I just… I didn’t react in time. It was sudden.”

Jingming gripped the bedsheets tight, wanting nothing more than to pack his bags and leave this cold place and this unromantic straight man forever.

“Baby, I’m sorry. Really.” Chu Feng was at a loss, looking at him from every angle, but Jingming’s face remained hidden. “Lift your head up first, don’t suffocate yourself.”

Jingming shouted muffledly, “Just let me suffocate!”

Chu Feng internally cried out to the heavens. He finally resorted to “violence,” lifting Jingming up bodily. The boy’s fair face was flushed red from crying, and three distinct wet spots marked the dark grey pillowcase.

“Stop crying, okay? I really didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Not on purpose?” Jingming shot him a resentful look and wailed, “The ‘not on purpose’ part is your most honest reaction!”

Chu Feng’s voice trembled with anxiety. “Let’s kiss again. I promise I won’t do that again.”

Jingming pushed him away. “No!” Chu Feng held him tight. “Come on.”

Chu Feng leaned down immediately to kiss him. Having just suffered such a “humiliation,” Jingming wasn’t about to forgive him so easily. He thrashed his head around to dodge. Unfortunately, their strength was too disparate. When Chu Feng refused to let go, Jingming’s struggle was like a kitten scratching.

Since Jingming wouldn’t cooperate, Chu Feng’s next few attempts landed squarely on his cheeks.

“Baby, Baby.” Chu Feng was out of options. He grabbed Jingming’s hand and pressed it against his own face. “Hit me to vent your anger.”

Jingming couldn’t bring himself to hit him and quickly pulled his hand back. He turned his back to Chu Feng. “If you don’t like it, don’t do it. You aren’t gay anyway.”

“I like it.”

Chu Feng moved to face him, cupping Jingming’s face again to prove he wasn’t repulsed. Jingming wasn’t a “soft bun” who could be easily swayed; he pushed and shoved, but Chu Feng managed to peck his cheeks several times regardless.

“Ugh!” Jingming thrashed wildly and wiped his face. “Stop it! Besides getting spit all over my face, what else can you even do!?”

Chu Feng felt a bit dejected too. He sat on the bed, looking like a large, moping German Shepherd. Their size difference was massive; with the light behind him, his shadow completely enveloped Jingming.

Jingming peeked at him and saw the shiny saliva on Chu Feng’s lips. Seeing him so helpless was actually a bit funny. Thinking about it, the idea of a straight man trying to turn himself gay for his “brother” was ridiculous in itself. Usually, people tried to “cure” gay people into being straight; he was doing the reverse. It really wasn’t easy for him.

“Not mad anymore?” Chu Feng noticed Jingming’s expression soften and leaned in again. “I really didn’t mean it. One more kiss.”

Jingming didn’t have the heart to refuse again. He puckered his lips and gave Chu Feng a peck. I’ll hold off on the tongue for now.

They lay on their sides, facing each other. Jingming felt sweet again. Chu Feng reached out to stroke Jingming’s face. “Sorry, Baby.”

Jingming shook his head gently. “Maybe I was too sudden.”

Chu Feng: “Baby wanting to kiss me passionately means Baby loves me very much. I was the one being ungrateful.”

Jingming smiled. Suddenly, an idea struck him. “How about this, Brother? I’ll find you some movies with gay themes. You can watch other people’s stories and get a feel for what it means to be gay. How about it?”

“Sure.” Chu Feng agreed it was a good plan. “Send them to me.”

He turned off the light and pulled Jingming into his arms, letting him sleep against his shoulder. Outside, the sounds of cicadas and frogs grew louder. When the wind blew through the yard, the giant roses downstairs rustled. It had rained several times this month, knocking off many petals, but with the good weather, new buds were blooming.

Listening to the wind, Jingming imagined the flowers swaying.

“It’s so quiet,” Chu Feng said suddenly. Jingming was surprised; usually, Chu Feng fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow. “Brother, why aren’t you asleep?”

Chu Feng’s chest vibrated slightly as he spoke, a sensation Jingming felt deeply in his arms. “I don’t know. Tell me a story, Baby. Like you did when we were kids.”

When they were little, Jingming loved making up stories. He’d make them up about ducklings, about thunder, or even about an orange being forced away from its mother, shipped to a strange place, and eventually escaping the fruit plate at midnight to go home.

“What story?” Jingming’s voice was drowsy.

Chu Feng seemed to love the childhood version of Jingming so much that the adult version felt a little jealous. Chu Feng asked, “You’ve written so many articles. Can you read one to me?”

“That’s embarrassing.”

“Nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m sure Baby writes beautifully. I can’t sleep and want a bedtime story. Tell me a story, and tomorrow I’ll take you to pick loquats.”

“Really?” “Really. I’ll even peel them for you.”

The loquats Li Yongjing brought today were delicious. Jingming loved juicy fruit, and if he didn’t have to peel them, it was even better.

“Okay.” Jingming had Chu Feng fetch his phone. He had his articles backed up on a cloud drive. He opened a document and adjusted himself into a comfortable position. “Ahem, then I’ll tell you the story of ‘The Local Translators’.”

As the wind outside picked up, Jingming read his gentle words line by line. It was less than seven thousand words. By the time he finished, Chu Feng was still awake, but Jingming was nodding off. He spent the last two paragraphs mumbling incoherently.

“That was nice. So interesting. I wish I could record it on my phone,” Chu Feng whispered, kissing Jingming’s forehead. “Go to sleep.”

Before fully drifting off, Jingming thought his reading was a great sleep aid. He remembered Xue Dongni liked listening to podcasts; maybe he could start one and upload these stories there.

…

Over the next few days, Li Yongjing came over for dinner almost every evening to discuss the upcoming market in Changling Town. Jingming forbade Chu Feng from revealing their changed relationship to anyone. When Li Yongjing was there, Jingming acted perfectly professional.

The market would feature handicrafts, intangible cultural heritage exhibits, and local delicacies. The filming crew would visit the market before heading to the ranch. Chu Feng, being an influential figure in town, helped coordinate and contacted local craftsmen.

Jingming suggested an artisan he’d met through his research—a woman about his age who specialized in Sui Horse-Tail Embroidery. She made modern accessories using traditional techniques. When he invited her, she mentioned her friends were busy and asked if Jingming could help out at her stall during the market.

Chu Feng was hesitant about Jingming showing his face, fearing someone from the production crew might recognize him.

“I want to go, Brother,” Jingming said, munching on a banana. Chu Feng: “What if it’s dangerous? I’ll be too busy those days to stay with you.” Jingming: “Hu Xianyun will be there selling food, and Lang-ge is coming back tomorrow. I’ll be right on our doorstep; who would dare bully me?”

Chu Feng brought over a pot of braised pig trotters with sauerkraut. “Brother, I have to face it,” Jingming said, swallowing the rest of his banana. “Running away doesn’t solve anything.”

Chu Feng: “Is it not enough for me to face it for you?” Jingming: “What if you aren’t there? Or what if you get old and die one day?” Chu Feng: “…” “Let me go. I want to go,” Jingming pleaded, softening his voice into a pout. “Please, Brother?”

Chu Feng sighed with a smile. “Fine, you can go.”

The meal was pig trotters with sauerkraut, cucumber salad, and braised beef. The trotters were melt-in-the-mouth tender, the sauerkraut crisp and tangy—the perfect meal for a cool late-spring evening. Jingming’s local palate was fully restored as he dipped the meat into a spicy pepper sauce.

“So good!” Jingming praised the food generously. Seeing him eat so happily made Chu Feng’s posture straighten with pride. He’d felt guilty since the “pushing away” incident and had been poked by Jingming’s sarcasm every time he tried to get close.

“Baby, I’m free tonight. Find me a movie to watch.” He was afraid if he didn’t “become gay” soon, his brother would run off.

Jingming, busy with a pig trotter, hummed in agreement. After dinner, while Chu Feng cleaned the kitchen, Jingming looked for a movie. He decided to go with a classic: Brokeback Mountain.

Once the projection was set up, Jingming sat at his desk to write. He’d been helping Song Cheng and heard many stories about his family, the farms he’d worked on, and the two older local vets. He learned that Xishan Ranch had once almost lost a huge number of cattle to anthrax. Today, he began the “Veterinarian” chapter.

The sofa was behind the desk. From his seat, Jingming could see Chu Feng’s back and the screen.

“Baby,” Chu Feng turned around. “Am I distracting you?” “No.” Jingming smiled sweetly. His writing wasn’t affected by his environment; he’d learned to write anywhere—on scratch paper during class, on buses, or in shared apartments.

While writing, Jingming checked a website where he used to post work. After graduation, he hadn’t logged in. The account had been doxxed by Tang Song’s fans. He didn’t log in, but searched for his old pen name: “Chun He Jing Ming” (Spring Harmony, Bright Scenery—a play on his mother’s name and his own).

Most of his works were short stories or essays. Beneath every post were countless insults. In the past, he hadn’t dared look, but tonight he opened them calmly. The vitriol was still uncomfortable, but he noticed several people defending him. He read them one by one. Seeing a comment that said, “When your ‘Oppa’ couldn’t even read a script, this person was already writing like this,” made him smile.

After a while, he registered a new account with his new phone number. He hesitated for only three seconds before typing the ID: “Little Calf.” It was taken. He tried “Little Little Calf.” Then he registered a podcast on another site. He planned to upload his ranch stories as audio bedtime stories. That way, next time his brother wanted one, he could just hit play.

When he looked up again, the classic BGM of the movie was playing. The screen showed the two shirts hanging together. Jingming remembered that in this scene, Ennis doesn’t actually cry out loud.

So why is there a sound of a man sobbing in the house?

“Brother?” Jingming stood up and walked over.

Chu Feng wiped away tears and pulled Jingming into a rough embrace. “It’s too bitter… being gay is too bitter, Baby.”

Jingming sat astride Chu Feng’s lap. “…” Is he that immersed?

Jingming patted Chu Feng’s back. “It’s okay, Brother. Don’t cry.”

Chu Feng buried his head in Jingming’s chest, took a deep breath, and looked up. “I can’t let you live like that, and I can’t lie to someone and get married. We’ll just be together, just us.”

Jingming was touched by the reaction, but also found it a bit hilarious. He didn’t know what face to make.

“Kiss me, Brother,” Chu Feng said.

Perhaps learning from the movie, Chu Feng’s large hands stroked Jingming’s back with force, sliding down to grip his slender waist. His hands grazed Jingming’s buttocks several times.

Jingming involuntarily swallowed. Chu Feng looked up, his voice hoarse again. “I want to kiss you.”

It was a kiss, not just a peck. Jingming wrapped his arms around Chu Feng’s neck, too shy to look him in the eye. “I… mmm!”

Jingming felt like he was fainting from happiness. So this is how wonderful it is.

He could feel that Chu Feng was truly moved. When they got deep into the kiss, Chu Feng seemed to forget how to breathe, letting out strained, soft moans. Jingming’s body went completely limp; if it weren’t for Chu Feng supporting his waist, he would have collapsed.

Their kiss was raw and fierce, driven by instinct. Eventually, Jingming’s strength gave out, and he could only passively endure Chu Feng’s heat.

“No… mm, I can’t anymore, Brother…” Jingming’s fingers were weak as he pushed against Chu Feng’s muscular chest.

Chu Feng finally let him go. Both were breathless, their lips glistening. Jingming’s eyes were watery and trembling as he looked at Chu Feng. Overcome with emotion, Chu Feng cupped his face and gave him two more light pecks on the lips.

Jingming pursed his lips and lowered his head with a shy smile. Chu Feng chuckled softly, his ears red and his forehead damp with sweat. When he’d viewed Jingming as a brother, everything was straightforward; now, he felt a bashful shame. Thinking about how they’d been “brothers” for so many years made him feel a bit sheepish.

Embarrassed by the gaze, Jingming slumped softly into Chu Feng’s arms.

“Brother… are you still repulsed?” Jingming’s voice was barely a whisper.

Chu Feng smiled, one hand around Jingming’s waist and the other stroking the back of his head. “I liked it. It felt pretty good.”

Jingming was overjoyed, nuzzling his head into Chu Feng’s chest.

“Next time,” Chu Feng said, “let’s try something else.”