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Yeah, Guanheng definitely knew better.
Dejun needed rest, for one; and he definitely wasn’t quite yet fit enough to make proper decisions for himself.
But seriously, how was Guanheng to say no?
Because only the two of them shared this dormitory, Guanheng had been entrusted with the responsibility of watching over and taking care of Dejun whilst he made his recovery. Guanheng accepted without complaint – he was extremely worried too, to say the least. Overexertion, the doctor had sighed as he shook his head slowly, handing over a prescription of antipyretics for Dejun’s burning fever and firm instruction to get proper rest for the next three days at least; to avoid all stressful or strenuous activity as best as possible.
Guanheng promised he’d make sure to see to it.
Well, he had been trying. Really.
They’d made it two full days rather uneventfully. Guanheng ordered the same congee takeout for Dejun’s every meal, watched with warmth in his chest as Dejun got from eating barely two spoonfuls on the first day to nearly finishing the entire portion tonight. He’d made sure Dejun ate his medicine, which Dejun always insisted on downing with packets of a terribly strong-smelling herbal concoction he’d stocked up on (Guanheng absolutely couldn’t wrap his head around this monstrosity, but he did make sure to arrange it, nonetheless). He’d opted to use Dejun’s PC—and Dejun’s accounts as well, for the ease of it—to game temporarily, so he could keep a close eye on Dejun and make sure he stayed resting in bed (and didn’t slyly sneak out to practice or anything of that sort because, of course Dejun would.)
And he’d worked up a routine, to change the iced towel atop Dejun’s forehead every half-hourly to alleviate his fever which, hadn’t exactly subsided yet.
Guanheng had alarms set at equal intervals for this cause, and things had been going smoothly as planned. As he did so, Dejun was most often fast asleep, or awake but all adorable and sleepy-eyed as the corners of his lips lifted weakly in a silent thank you. As per routine, until.
Until tonight, when Dejun had tugged at his wrist just as he turned back, with a strength surprising for his still drug-addled, drowsy haze. Guanheng turned back around, confused. Dejun’s eyes were wet and wide, and his skin burned to the touch. The apples of his cheeks were dangerously flushed, like someone had too-generously rubbed a deep, creamy blush into his skin.
“Is… everything okay?” Guanheng asked, heart thumping in his chest when Dejun didn’t say a word. Then all too suddenly, Guanheng found himself being tugged forward – and before he had the time to even react, he’d fallen atop of Dejun’s still blanket-covered body, only managing to avoid plummeting face-first against Dejun’s own with elbows dug into the sheets on either side of Dejun’s head.
“What the hell was that–” Guanheng managed to stop himself just as he noticed the watery pools in the corners of Dejun’s wide eyes start to rise, “Jun, are you okay? Do you need something–”
The noise Dejun made in response sounded like an incoherent, garbled mess in Guanheng’s ears. But perhaps that was the blood roaring in his ears that had drowned out Dejun’s plea, whether purposefully or not. By no means was Guanheng a lip-reading expert, but he’d definitely understood the soundless words Dejun’s pretty mouth had curled around – and it made his head spin. But it couldn’t be, could it? Had Guanheng imagined it all, was it all in his head? Because why–
“Fuck me, Heng.” Dejun blinked back a few watery tears as he whispered, biting his lip. Dejun had somehow managed to shuffle off the blanket so he could wrap his legs about Guanheng’s waist, the balls of his heels dug so-slightly into the small of Guanheng’s back. “Please?”
Oh, fuck.
“Dejun,” Guanheng breathed, and Dejun’s eyes started to shine instinctively again like he knew the answer coming before Guanheng had even said a word, “–the doctor said you needed to rest.”
Dejun shook his head so the iced towel slipped off, slick bangs matted to his forehead. Lip bitten, Guanheng touched his fingers to Dejun’s burning skin, gently swept the mess of hair from his flushed face. “I’ve… I’ve rested enough–”
“You’re still running a fever, Jun.’ Gently tugged on Dejun’s wrist, bringing his palm to feel the warmth of his own forehead, “–see.”
“I- I don’t fucking care,” Guanheng sucked in a breath when Dejun buried his burning face to his neck and sobbed against the cool of his own skin, hurt voice laced with a pretty tremble. “It’s been such a torturous week for me, Heng. I’m all... all hot and uncomfortable and rest doesn’t seem to be going me any good–”
“But Jun,” Guanheng tried again, but even his resolve was slowly starting to slip away. He was getting fucking hard in his shorts and Dejun whining and rubbing up desperately against his thigh was definitely not fucking helping.
“Fuck me, please?” Dejun pulled back, and his eyes were all red and wet, like a hurt puppy. Like he could burst into tears any moment, and he definitely would if Guanheng denied him just once more. “Guanheng…”
See, Guanheng knew this probably wasn’t right. Dejun was sick and his system was pumped with haze-inducing drugs and he was… woozy, at best. His wet eyes were barely-focused and his pupils so, so blown. But then Dejun’s clammy hands were on his nape and Dejun’s open mouth pressed to his own, so soft and so hot and so, so fucking eager. His tears had smeared across Guanheng’s skin with the intensity of the kiss, muffled sounds of satisfaction escaping his lips whenever they parted just slightly for air.
So, really… how was he to fucking say no?
“Okay, okay,” Guanheng swallowed down the hard lump in his throat, “–just a quick round tonight and promise you’ll rest up afterward, yeah?”
The image of Dejun’s kiss-swollen lips slowly stretching into a big, wide smile; sweaty strands of long black hair bouncing as he nodded his head eagerly. Yeah, that was going to stay in Guanheng’s mind for a darned long time, for sure.
Perhaps the first indication that this was probably not a good idea was when Guanheng had managed to squeeze a single well-lubed finger into Dejun’s hole, breath held. The warmth, no, the searing heat of Dejun’s soft, tight walls had lapped at his poor finger like hungry tongues of fire, and the stark contrast with the chilly air-conditioned room when Guanheng pulled that same wet finger out, slowly, was incredibly dizzying. “Fuck,” Guanheng groaned and looked up to meet with Dejun’s lidded gaze, bottom lip chewed swollen where he’d tried to hold his pretty sounds in, blunt nails dug into the silken skin of his left thigh where he held it tight to his softly heaving chest; spread himself open.
“You’re burning up inside, Jun.” Guanheng had barely a sound thought in his head when he’d made that passing remark, but it’d clearly gotten to Dejun’s head. He whined loudly, instinctively, walls clamping down like they were trying to squeeze, perhaps burn off the circulation within Guanheng’s curled fingers.
By the time Guanheng could pump three slick fingers in and out of Dejun’s body with relative ease, the boy had been reduced to a panting, trembling mess. “Ah, so s-so g-good,” Dejun babbled, over and over as he squeezed and squirmed on Guanheng’s fingers, his own hands clenched into the messy sheets, into Guanheng’s hair wherever he could reach. It was almost as if Dejun was hyper-aware of every little twist and curl of his fingers, like the drugged haze had set his senses alight. And then Guanheng tore his eyes away from where his fingers disappeared into the tight clench of Dejun’s ass, back up to look properly at Dejun’s face. A delightful shiver of electricity ran down his spine—and his painfully-hard cock—when he saw the tears in Dejun’s eyes and his scarlet-flushed cheeks, begging to be fucked already.
Guanheng was gone, too far gone.
In the too-long time it had taken for Guanheng to get his pants and underwear off, Dejun had taken it upon himself to flip over and… with his chest and face pressed into the sheets, spread his knees apart in offer. “Shit,” Guanheng held Dejun by the waist where his loose shirt had ridden up, gently flipped him back over. Pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Dejun’s mouth and whispered an it’s okay to the burning shell of Dejun’s ear, it’s tiring for you like that and…
“I want to see your face.”
The initial slide in was equal parts torturous and equal parts pleasure. It ripped a guttural sound from Guanheng’s throat, and his nails dug involuntary crescents into the soft skin of Dejun’s waist, held in a bruising grip. “Fuck,” Guanheng gasped, he squeezed at Dejun’s hips for purchase. “Shit, wait.”
Dejun was so hot inside Guanheng felt like he was going to fucking die. Like, this could not be good for the human body. A few fleeting thoughts flashed like a searing white light behind Guanheng’s tightly-shut eyes. Do human dicks have melting points? If so, what? Is there a reasonable range? Do fevers reach those temperatures?
A small, garbled sound cut his thoughts abruptly.
“I… I didn’t mean to,” Dejun sobbed as he clenched unbearably tightly around Guanheng and he’d almost slapped at Dejun’s ass in reflex, like, quit doing that or I’ll seriously cum right now, but he held back from doing so, and froze when he saw the little spits of runny white across the front of Dejun’s ridden-up black top.
The medication in his system was definitely responsible for this, Guanheng thought. Sure, Dejun was sensitive, but never had he orgasmed from the slide in alone. Completely untouched. And shit, it was fucking hot. Dejun lay whimpering as he clutched at Guanheng’s shoulders, still shaking, all embarrassed, all glowing-red skin.
“God,” Guanheng pulled out, slow, winced painfully when his cock met with the cold room air. “You really… weren’t kidding when you said you needed this, huh.” Dipping down to press an open-mouthed kiss to Dejun’s neck, Guanheng pushed in again, and this time relished in the near relief Dejun’s inner heat provided. It was starting to feel… really fucking good, each subsequent thrust in providing more pleasure than before.
The initial orgasm had Dejun considerably more relaxed, though he made way louder sounds and writhed around harder whenever Guanheng brushed up against his sensitive prostate. Still, he kept Guanheng close. Kept his legs tight about Guanheng’s waist and pulled, demanded Guanheng back into the scorching heat of his ass each time he deemed he’d pulled out too far. Soon enough, Guanheng had worked up a quick rhythm. Dejun’s back arched and his hips cocked each time Guanheng’s balls slapped too-loudly against his ass, and he panted heavily against Guanheng’s mouth, his neck. Little exhales in quick, short successions, so hot to his skin Guanheng felt Dejun could’ve very well branded him with the heat of his sweet breath – and he wouldn’t have minded, really.
A permanent reminder of the sweet, sweet boy laid out beneath him sounded perfect.
“You’re so hot, Jun,” Guanheng had settled on gripping at the cheeks of Dejun’s ass, held them open so he could grind in deeper, hips moved in little circles where they were pressed to Dejun’s groin. “In- In every sense of the word. Both ways,” Guanheng’s head spun madly when Dejun just.. smiled weakly. He could barely keep his eyes open at this point, they drifted in and out of focus as he wrapped a clammy hand around his own drooling cock and started to stroke himself haphazardly, wet lashes fanned out against his scarlet cheeks, tiny spits of drool slipped past the corners of his silently parted mouth.
I’m so… so close, Heng, was all the warning Dejun gave before he’d sobbed out Guanheng’s name and arched off the bed as a generous white spurted from the head of his cock. Guanheng felt the heat of Dejun’s cum where it’d gotten on his face and neck, and then he pulled out of the clench of Dejun’s now-pliant body, watched Dejun’s face as he urgently jerked himself off to completion, white splatter across Dejun’s twitching tummy.
Guanheng couldn’t remember what happened next. He vaguely recalled trying to jostle Dejun from his sleep because the boy had quite literally dozed off right after emptying his second load. He vaguely remembered wiping off the stray bits of cum on his face into Dejun’s already-soaked shirt. Perhaps he’d helped to change Dejun out of the shirt into a new one. Either ways, he’d fallen asleep somehow, on Dejun’s bed.
All he knew was that when he’d woken up, all groggy and still drowsy from frankly the best sex they’d had in a long time, regardless of the circumstance, Dejun was already up and… about. All bright and glowy as he whipped up noodles for breakfast in the kitchen.
“You’re awake?” Dejun chirped when he noticed a disgruntled Guanheng stood by the counter, looking the worse for wear. “I made us breakfast.”
“Weren’t you… yesterday night…” Guanheng could hardly believe it. Had he dreamt it all? Had Dejun been fine all along, what the fuck?
“Yeah, I’m like perfectly fine now!” Dejun assured, grabbing at Guanheng’s wrist and touching his palm to his forehead. Oddly, but sure enough, his skin was now cool to the touch. “Fever’s gone. Thanks for taking care of me the past few days, Guanheng.”
“No problem, man.”
While it was great that Dejun was all recovered and healthy and all, Guanheng still found it absurd. None of it made any sense, no matter how hard he tried to reason with. Yet the ache in his arms and hips and down in his pants, the still-lingering ghost of Dejun’s breath on his neck, assured Guanheng that whatever went down last night… had indeed happened.
Later, away from Dejun’s sight and in the bathroom (and on incognito, of course), Guanheng learned a thing or two from the trusted net. That penises do have melting temperatures and they’re actually lower than one may expect so Guanheng had unknowingly put himself into a life-endangering situation last night because he might have quite literally melted inside of Dejun which, hypothetically sounds pretty sweet, romantic even, but in reality… just no.
On the bright side, however, there actually exists some scientific evidence that having sex can cure fevers.
So there’s that.