Archive of Our Own

Dan Heng slowly steeps his tea bag, doing his best to shake off some fatigue.

“You look shit.”

Dan Heng looks behind him to see Stelle and March enter their small office kitchen. He removes his teabag and immediately takes a sip.

“I feel like shit,” he responds. March looks a bit like a kicked puppy and tries to pat Dan Heng’s arm comfortingly.

“Thesis?” March asks. Dan Heng only nods.

“Why not have coffee?” Stelle points to the coffee pot.

“You know it’s awful. Himeko always burns it.” Stelle only nods gravely in agreement.

Dan Heng looks over their daily schedule while finishing his tea. He and Stelle are almost fully booked today, so there was no chance of trading clients for a break. He sighs, steam blowing from his cup.

Stelle makes a noise like she remembered something. Dan Heng looks towards her and marvels at how she’s drinking the awful coffee. 

“It’s that guy’s appointment today, right? The one I referred to you?” She takes a sip and grimaces. “The athlete, or something?”

Dan Heng nods. Stelle had an appointment a week ago that she ended up transferring to him. The client’s tastes and her art style weren’t a good match, so they mutually agreed she wasn’t the best tattoo artist for him. He complimented one of Dan Heng’s designs framed as an art piece in their lobby, so Stelle was quick to show him Dan Heng’s portfolio and refer him.

“What do you mean athlete or something?” March asks incredulously. “Blade’s a super famous fighter! He even has adverts! It’s a big deal that he’s our client!”

Both Dan Heng and Stelle look at their friend blankly. He doesn’t care about anyone famous, and Stelle, well, it was hard to know what she cared about generally.

“How do you know him, March?” Dan Heng asks instead.

“He has a great Instagram!” She insists through a mouthful of cookie. “He’s really hot,” she adds. Dan Heng suppresses the powerful urge to roll his eyes. “But he seriously is famous - I’ve seen a few clips of his fights. He’s scary good.”

“Right,” he deadpans. He can’t imagine March watching two men beat each other up. She can’t even handle a cockroach.

“Well, I guess you’ll get to meet him later on today.” March’s eyes become starry as she clearly thinks about it. He shakes his head before putting down his empty mug.

“See you later at lunch, Stelle.”

Stelle silently nods while March stands up indignantly from the small table.

“I’m coming too!” 

“Obviously.”

Session 1

Dan Heng already wasn’t looking forward to meeting his new client, but now the man is giving him even more reason to dislike him, considering he’s ten minutes late.

He knows when his client has arrived because he can hear March practically falling over herself in the hallway outside. He has to wait another few minutes before March finally brings him into Dan Heng’s studio.

Dan Heng has to look up to meet his eyes - he’s tall, taller than him, and Dan Heng is already taller than most people he knows. He must be well over six feet. His head must have brushed the door frame coming in.

But what was more attention-grabbing than his height was the rest of him. He was built like a brick house. His shoulders were wide, and his chest stood out ridiculously, even underneath the coat. He can’t imagine the muscles required to be this big, this imposing. Dan Heng’s whole frame would probably only fit against his chest - never mind the rest of him.

“You the artist?” He takes off his face mask and asks. His face matches his frame - strong dark brows, cut jawline, and a bored scowl that seems to suit him. His eyes grab the most attention - a crimson red, piercing, like a snare. Somehow it feels like this man could see through him, see his every vulnerability.

Those eyes, that frame and the stoic look on his face were intimidating enough, but all together they formed a looming threat in the shape of a man - like an apex predator.

Fuck. He was good-looking.

Dan Heng pushes the thoughts down. He won’t show anything in his demeanour. He has work to do and this guy was late. Just because he’s a good-looking celebrity means nothing in the end, it doesn’t impress him.

“Yes. You’re late.” Dan Heng doesn’t stand and instead rolls his chair to his desk and picks up his art binder. He turns around and nods his head towards the stool opposite the chair. “Sit”.

He could have sworn there was a gleeful tick at the man’s mouth. He began to make a move towards the directed chair before March intervened.

“Be nice, Dan Heng!” She snaps before she turns her attention to Blade, beaming. “I can take your coat for you.”

“Thanks.” Blade pushes his coat off his shoulders and, holy hell, Dan Heng has never seen someone that broad and that built without it looking grotesque. The neckline of his shirt is wide, displaying the ridges of his shoulder muscles tensing underneath his shirt as it shifts around with the removal of the coat.

He hands the garment to March who happily collects it - requiring both arms to hold all of it - and bounces out of the room, pulling the door closed with her exit. 

It is only now that Dan Heng realises that the man’s hair is long. It lay in dark swirls across his shoulders and presumably swept down his back. Dan Heng knows he's staring - but how is he bigger without that winter coat?

Blade sits on the stool - snapping Dan Heng's attention back. It creaks under his weight. “You know, I could charge you for the show.” Blade meets his eyes. His gaze is like a black hole.

Dang Heng is proud of how he keeps his face composed. “What show?” He asks deadpan, adding a scoff. This time Dan Heng is certain he sees the corner of a smirk.

“Because you’re late, we’ll only be able to go over the design you want and agree on placement.” Dan Heng places his binder down on the chair between them and opens it. “Once I know where you want it, and I have your measurements, I can work on the final sketch.” He flips through pages until he finds the right sketches. “Next session, if you approve, we can start the ink.” He looks up and finds Blade staring at him, instead of the file. He huffs. “Sound good?”

Blade crosses his arms - even his forearms have muscles - and shrugs. He really is huge. “Sure.”

Arrogant too. Dan Heng suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. 

“Stelle mentioned you want a dragon on the back.” He turns the binder to face Blade. He can’t help a jab under his breath. “How original.” 

Surprisingly, Blade laughs at the dig. His laugh suits him.

“Here are a handful I’ve drawn.” Dan Heng continues, pointing to some of his work. “We can adapt any of these to your tastes. You can flip through for the next six pages.” 

The majority he’s drawn are western-inspired dragons but he shows a handful of serpent dragons that he’s done. Some are in the classic Chinese style, while others mimic old Japanese art.

Blade shows interest in one of his western dragons, and asks a few questions, but continues to flip through pages until he reaches the end. He then continues to flip.

“So, the third one?” Dan Heng mutters, irritably trying to grasp the binder and flip the pages back despite Blade still looking.

“What about this one?” Blade asks suddenly, still holding onto the edge of a page and peering at the back.

Dan Heng confusedly cranes his neck around the page to see what he’s talking about.

“Oh, that was just a personal project.” Blade had reached the back of the binder where he stored his personal drawings.

The drawing in question is of a horned Chinese dragon, surrounded by lotuses, torrents of water and crashing waves. He had even inked this piece - the dragon is a brilliant aqua with the surroundings a burst of complementary yellow and white. He had taken great care to sketch the details of scales and tufts of hair at the end of the tail. It is one of his favourite pieces, and for good reason.

“I like it,” Blade says softly. His eyes move back and forth as he takes in each detail. “Could we do this one?”

“This is my personal art. It’s not made for clients.” Dan Heng says flatly. He doesn’t like the idea of another person having this in their flesh.

Blade looks at him, then back to the piece. “Can I have a piece like it then?”

Dan Heng thinks about it. For most people, he would immediately decline, but for some reason he considers it. Perhaps it could be worth it. A notable client with one of his pieces would be good advertising and could ensure business for the rest of the year. Dan Heng taps his finger against the chair in thought.

If it is a newly commissioned piece, it is unlikely to be a problem. He can make the new design different enough and just use small inspirations from the original work. Clients usually don’t know exactly what they want, anyway.

He clicks his tongue. 

“Fine.” He quickly grabs a drawing pad and pencil from his desk behind him. “But it will be far more expensive.” Blade looks up from the drawing to meet his eyes. “Since it would be a completely custom piece.” If Dan Heng was going to disregard his own rules, he might as well make this guy pay for it.

Blade looks amused rather than irritated like he was expecting.

“Sounds good,” he scans his eyes over the drawing again. “So what now, Mr. Artist?”

Dan Heng can feel the rise that he succeeded in getting out of him. He stabs his pencil into his tongue, wetting it, before committing it to his drawing pad. 

“Tell me the shape you want.”

After discussing it for a while, Dan Heng has a general sketch. It’s only the skeleton to show the shapes but it will be good enough for planning purposes. 

Turns out what Blade wants is more complex than just a back-piece like Stelle had told him. Instead, it’s a piece to cover the entirety of his right shoulder blade and will have to connect to his right arm, using his shoulder as a bridge. It will require a lot of understanding of the client’s anatomy to plot out the movement and allow the final piece to shine.

It’s an exciting prospect. It's been a long time since he has gotten to work on a large yet intricate piece. 

“Okay, I’ve gotten the idea.” Dan Heng shifts through his drawer until he finds a measuring tape. “Turn around so I can measure.” 

Blade allows it, spinning the stool so he’s facing the wall. Dan Heng rolls his chair over until he’s behind him, organising some old stencils to help with reference. He begins to measure.

Holy hell. 

His back is huge. Dan Heng knew he would be, but the sheer size didn’t feel tangible until now where he’s up close and personal. He feels dwarfed in comparison. When he’s this close he can see his hand in relation to the rest of Blade, and it looks small. His black three-quarter shirt is a bit threadbare, so it confirms that there is nothing underneath that’s adding any extra bulk.

Dan Heng gulps hard. “Whole blade, yeah? Top to bottom?” He’s impressed by how normal he sounds. “And up to the spine?” He lays the measuring tape on the top of his shoulder.

“Yeah.”

God. His back is so firm with muscle that when Dan Heng presses the tape measure into his flesh it doesn’t even move. The measurement length is far more than he expected, larger than a piece of paper, and the breadth is even worse, almost as wide as Dan Heng’s ribcage. He doesn’t understand why he suddenly feels lightheaded.

“It can go up to here.” Half of Blade’s fingertips are now visible to Dan Heng as they rest on his side, against his ribcage and under his arm. The action causes him to reveal his waist shape.

“Just make it bigger why don’t you,” Dan Heng mutters dryly.

“Well, everything’s got to be to match,” Blade responds. 

Dan Heng refuses to think more about that comment and moves the tape to measure his right shoulder width. He ends up remeasuring because he can’t believe the numbers, but it’s the same as before. Next is the length of the side of his ribcage, from armpit to hip. The last will need to be his arm.

Dan Heng bites on his tongue to remain stoic and rolls around to Blade’s right side. He wraps the tape measure around the top of his arm, followed by the bicep. It’s pretty much as thick as Dan Heng’s thigh.

Thank god that Blade is looking down and scrolling through his phone. Dan Heng isn’t sure why he feels hot under the collar, and he’s not sure if he would have hidden it well.

Dan Heng rolls around to his back again - partly to hide his flush - and jots down the dimensions and ponders. With these numbers, his piece is going to be double the size he imagined. 

“You’re bigger than I thought,” he muses. Silence hangs in the air and Dan Heng can feel Blade smirking. “Shut up.” He grumbles into his sketchpad.

Blade turns around to face him and he is, indeed, smirking. Dan Heng continues grumpily.

“The piece will be larger than anticipated, and therefore cost more. We could be looking at five digits.”

“That’s fine.”

Dan Heng swears he’s going to add extra costs just for his laissez-faire attitude. Clearly, he has more money than sense.

“Good.”

Dan Heng rips out the sketch while checking the time. His next appointment is due in a few minutes. He rolls back to his table to start drafting up a plan.

“As an estimate, it could take up to seven sessions to complete. It will depend on how well your body takes the ink.” He takes a look at the booking form Blade filled in. “But you stated you have other tattoos with no issues so it should be fine.” He looks at his calendar and sighs at his availability.

“Give me a week or so to finish a sketch. I’ll send it to you for feedback so we can finalize it. Once you’re happy we can set up your bookings. Let’s aim for the first week of September. Does that work?”

Blade hums, checking his phone - probably his calendar or something. His hand runs through his hair as he scrolls and Dan Heng’s heart flutters against his will.

“Yeah, that’s alright. I have a match that week, but honestly, it should be fine.”

Match? Dan Heng wants to ask but then he reminds himself that he doesn’t care.

“Good. March will be in contact to sort out dates. You can expect me to get in touch within the week.” He marks a spot on his calendar for a deadline. His laptop chimes with a notification. “My next appointment is here. You can see yourself out, I’m sure.”

Blade cocks his head and then smiles slowly. He pushes himself up by the knees and Dan Heng gets winded - reminded again of how tall Blade is now that he’s standing - especially from Dan Heng’s seated perspective.

“Of course.”

Dan Heng refuses to watch him leave. He plans to wash himself of this ridiculous exchange and return to normal. “And don’t be late next time.”

Blade’s soft, deep laugh follows him as he leaves and Dan Heng makes a promise to himself to be unaffected by it by their next session.

A week comes and goes and Dan Heng keeps to his deadline. By the end of one week, he sends his complete sketch to Blade.

He intended to create a whole new dragon with only influences from his own piece, but instead, he ended up drawing his dragon exactly. Same body, limbs, tail, whiskers, and horns. 

Logically he is still against the idea of anyone other than him wearing this dragon, especially considering that this dragon is already inked into his left inner arm - something he didn’t mention to Blade. He has no desire to have matching tattoos with anyone, and he’s a man who sticks to his decisions. So it’s strange how he feels unable to draw anything different.

Somehow the idea of Blade with this dragon permanently in his flesh excites him, especially at such a large scale. Blade’s body is a good canvas for Dan Heng’s art. The fact that the dragon is in a much different pose, larger, in higher detail, and in black and grey work has to be the reason why he feels comfortable with this. Surely.

Regardless of his inner dilemma, he’s very proud of the completed piece. It’s easily one of his best. He has butterflies thinking about it coming to life.

When he sends the piece for feedback Blade only returns with a thumbs-up emoji. Dan Heng almost throws his phone across the room in indignation. At least Blade has the decency to follow up the next day with an Amazing and a few minor requests on pose alterations.

After that, time is booked for his first session. Dan Heng spends most of his free time leading up to the appointment finalising the lineart and creating the stencil at the correct scale. With it laid out flat he has to imagine how it will wrap around the human form. It seems too big, so he ends up returning to his measurements and checking.

He even has a small meltdown when he measures his thigh and confirms that it’s indeed almost the same size as Blade’s arm. The knowledge makes his stomach churn, but it does prove very useful as a model for parts of the stencil.

When all is said and done he has his final plan. His design has its head in the foreground and its body snaking side to side into the background. It will start near the bottom of the shoulder blade and work its way up until it reaches the shoulder. From there the body will follow the shoulder line and wrap around the shoulder ball before finishing in a twist around the upper arm with the tail ending at the bicep. The overall energy is more fierce than his own serene design.

With everything finalized, Dan Heng is ready for his first session.

Session 2

Dan Heng is not ready.

Blade shows up to his session - thankfully on time - dressed down in what could only be gym clothes. A pair of black shorts and a tank top. His arms are completely out and even some of his sides show through the gaping arm holes in his shirt. His skin is flushed. Somehow the fewer clothes Blade wears, the bigger he seems.

The worst part, however, is that every dip and line of Blade’s muscles are on display and his hair is tied up in a messy bun, black strands escaping and getting into his face. His hair appears wet.

“Sorry. Came here from training.” Blade drops his gym bag with a heavy thud by the door and dutifully comes to sit down on the customer's stool. “Don’t worry, I showered.”

Dan Heng deliberately turns around to his desk to busy himself with his stencil pieces. His cheeks are on fire. 

Apparently, he has a thing for half-naked men and manbuns. And now the prime example of one of them is in front of him. Awesome.

He clears his throat, calming himself, and collects his stencils. He is a professional, and this is his client. He checks his cart to make sure it’s stocked with everything he will need.

“That’s fine. As long as your skin is dry.” Dan Heng rolls himself back to the tattoo chair that’s between them and lays out his stencil pieces and line art for Blade to review. It’s important to confirm everything again before starting. He makes sure to only look at Blade’s face.

Once Blade approves, Dan Heng begins collecting some tools from his tray.

“That is the stencil. Today I’ll transfer the whole piece so you can see what it looks like on. If you’re happy, we’ll start with the head. Linework first, shading later.” Blade nods simply, studying the large stencil spread out on the surface.

Dan Heng begins by cutting his stencil into smaller, more manageable pieces before he rolls his chair some more until he’s once again behind Blade. It’s only then, staring at the back in front of him, that realisation begins to knot Dan Heng’s stomach.

“Please take off your shirt.”

Blade grunts in acknowledgement and reaches for the fabric at the back of his shoulders. He pulls the tank top over his head and then down his arms before dropping it on the floor.

Dan Heng is overwhelmed. In front of him is a massive slab of pale flesh, speckled with a handful of faded scars. It ripples with muscles that Dan Heng only knows exist because of his biology textbooks. His shoulders are so built that they rise in a mound of muscle from his scapula to his neck in a smooth slope rather than remaining flat. That is the trapezius if Dan Heng could recall his anatomy knowledge correctly.

He is so broad that his shoulders are twice as wide as his waist - which is already thick with muscle. His shape is the classic pyramid that you only see in antique statues, cartoons, or extreme bodybuilders. Except this is real and warm in front of him. Sitting behind him Dan Heng can’t even see past him.

Dan Heng realises he has dug his nails into his leg. 

Thank god he’s behind Blade and will be for a while. He won’t be able to control his reaction right now.

Dan Heng gingerly puts on gloves, using it as a moment to gain composure. With stencil in hand, he once again looks to the mountain of a back in front of him and steels himself.

Dan Heng, you’re a professional.

He breathes out as deeply - and as quietly - as he can, before beginning to line up his stencils against Blade’s skin. 

It takes a while to adjust the stencils exactly as he and Blade want, but soon he’s able to peel the backing and begin the process. It’s always magical to see his art come to life on a person’s body. It humbles Dan Heng to know that he can put his work into someone’s skin for them to keep forever.

And while every transfer is always exciting, this one he will remember forever, and not just because he’s restraining a feral part of his brain from licking any muscle dip he sees. 

Transferring onto Blade’s shoulder is the worst part. He has to stand to place it, which affords him an uninterrupted top-down view of Blade’s chest. His tits are probably bigger than March's or Stelle’s.

He also impresses himself with how well he holds it together when he transfers onto Blade’s arm. He has to be close and personal to ensure the inner arm looks right and he can feel the warmth and weight of the limb in his hands. Blade’s hand is even next to his thigh.

Thankfully by the time Dan Heng is finished, he has built up enough resistance to Blade’s physique (What do they call that - exposure therapy?), and he can appreciate the final product. 

Blade is the most perfect canvas he could ask for. The vision of his art is striking, drawing attention to the weight of Blade’s shoulders and mid-back. The rise and fall of the muscles all over his body, and the wide expanses of flesh, will create art that will always be in flux, moving, like it’s alive. This could end up being his best work.

He takes a couple of photos for reference.

Dan Heng brings a large mirror over to allow Blade to see the final product in the reflection of the full-length one he has in his studio.

Blade is facing the mirror and looking into the reflection in Dan Heng’s hands. Dan Heng refuses to look at Blade’s front, instead occupying his eyes with a tree outside his window.

“The transfer shows up blue, but the ink will be black and grey work.”

Blade moves around a bit, and flexes in various ways - or so Dan Heng assumes based on his peripheral vision. He’s had enough of the free show already.

“Yeah, it’s perfect.” Dan Heng knows it is, but he’s happy that Blade thinks the same. “Let's do it.”

Dan Heng puts away the mirror and moves to prep his tools, consciously ignoring the sight of a shirtless man in his studio.

Once he starts with the iron, everything gets much easier. The body in front of him morphs into mere skin under his needles. His focus on following the lines becomes the only thing he should be doing. It keeps his mind at ease. He is so at ease that he even strikes up a conversation after Blade makes some attempts at small talk.

“Last time you said you had a match this week. You’re an athlete right?” Dan Heng keeps his eyes on his work as he speaks.

“Of sorts.” Blade responds. Dan Heng waits for further comment. “I fight.”

Dan Heng pauses to finish up the ink of the dragon’s antler, then continues.

“Boxing?”

Blade makes a noise between his teeth. “No.” He sounds somewhat offended. “MMA.”

Something pings in the back of his mind - March had said so, hadn’t she? At the time it didn’t register because he wasn’t interested, but now he is. He hasn’t met an MMA fighter before, or any fighter really. Just people who did various martial arts like he has.

“I can’t say I know much about MMA.” Dan Heng continuously dabs away ink and blood as he continues the slope of the dragon’s body.

“There’s not too much to know. You fight, almost anything goes, and you win when your opponent is beaten into submission.”

“Sounds... intense.” Dan Heng thinks it all sounds quite brutish. A sport made up as a sanitised excuse for society to watch real violence without guilt.

“I assume that’s why your name is ‘Blade’. Stage name?”

“Yeah. I’ve had it since the start.”

Dan Heng wonders why ‘Blade’ is the name he picked. As far as he’s aware MMA doesn’t allow weapons of any kind, and especially not anything with sharp ends. 

Dan Heng checks his ink levels. Blade’s skin is reacting in the customary red to the needles, but there’s minimal swelling. His skin is taking the pigment well.

“What’s your real name?” Dan Heng asks after finishing the long stroke of the dragon’s left side.

“Ren.” Ah, so maybe that’s why his name is ‘Blade’. “Not many people use it.”

“Ren.” Dan Heng tries the name, rolling it out his mouth. Dan Heng notices gooseflesh under his iron. There must be a draft. He should adjust his aircon. 

“Strange name,” Dan Heng remarks. He wonders if someone who didn’t speak Mandarin picked the name. He begins inking the other side of the body. “But pretty cool.”

“Thanks. My foster mother gave it to me.”

That makes Dan Heng pause - lifting his iron. It continues to buzz in his hand. It isn’t every day that you meet someone who also went through the foster system, as he had. He dabs at some welling ink and continues his work.

Dan Heng ponders whether he should continue this topic. He didn’t particularly want to talk about his own experiences. Perhaps Blade - Ren - wouldn’t either.

“Can I call you Ren?” Dan Heng asks instead. He’s feeling a little bold. There’s a moment of quiet tension between them before Blade responds. 

“Sure.” Dan Heng couldn’t help the small smile on his face. The little victories are worth celebrating. 

The silence between them feels comfortable until Ren makes a noise like he’s remembered something.

“Oh. You fight in a cage.”

“A cage?” Dan Heng can’t help but laugh at the sheer absurdity of it. “Like in those big dramatized wrestling matches? What will they think of next.”

Blade hums good-naturedly. “It’s necessary. Why not see for yourself? My match is tomorrow night. I can get you tickets.”

Once again Dan Heng raises his iron to think, lest he tattoo the same spot repeatedly. By all rights, he should decline. Firstly, he doesn’t want to associate more than he needs to with his clients. Secondly, he’s never had any interest in watching sports, let alone fights. And thirdly, he should be working on his thesis whenever he has a spare moment.

And yet...

“Sure.”

Dan Heng still doesn’t understand why he agreed to this. He’s never liked crowds or noise, and this arena has both in droves. They’re lucky they have seats near the front, so he can be as far away as possible from the drunk jocks and old ladies who were just itching for blood. 

He’s thankful for March joining him, not that he would ever admit it. He feels a lot less awkward about being here with her around. She has enough energy for the both of them. 

It’s also thanks to March that Dan Heng is now far more interested in the upcoming spectacle than before. As soon as he had invited her she became a never-ending fountain of facts about Blade and MMA in general. He had no idea she was so into this sort of stuff.

Turns out, Blade isn’t just an MMA fighter and this isn’t just a match. He is one of the MMA fighters and he is defending a title. According to March, his record stands at 18-1-0, and once she explains the numbers Dang Heng finally understands all the hype around Blade and why there are banners with his name on it. He’s only ever lost once and he is building up to be a record holder within a year.

Dan Heng wonders why Ren had never bothered to mention his status in the sport or that this is a championship match. He seems arrogant enough to do something like that.

“When do you think it’s going to start?” March beams with excitement. She munches happily on some popcorn. Where did she even buy that?

“Probably any minute now. They’ve closed the doors.”

As if on cue, music blares through the speakers, and it’s so loud that it hurts his ears. It’s the announcer introducing the fight. The words are unintelligible due to the volume, so Dang Heng doesn’t even catch the fighter’s name.

The competitor emerges first from the other end of the arena. He’s certainly tall and large, and he looks muscular, but his musculature is hidden behind body fat unlike Ren - which isn’t saying much considering Ren likely has close to zero body fat. Dan Heng would have probably thought this man was a brick wall before he met Ren. 

He appears cocky, grandiosely hyping up the crowd and giving high fives to his supporters as he makes his way to the centre and the cage. There appears to be a fair amount of supporters in the crowd.

Blade is the second fighter to the cage, and he’s followed by more fanfare - there are even smoke machines. Unlike his competitor, he has minimal interactions with the crowd as he approaches the ring. His robe flutters behind him in a swirl of black and red satin.

Each fighter dutifully waits at their entrance to the cage while officials swarm them. Each man seems to be preparing for the fight. A woman is assisting Ren in securing his hand wraps before he dons his gloves. They seem to be specialised gloves that keep the hand and fingers free, but the knuckles protected. Blade removes his robe before pulling each of his arms to stretch his shoulders.

Blade disrobing is truly a sight, even from a distance. His chest, as he suspected, is huge, and his abdomen is cut as if it were stone. He has more than the celebrated six-pack and he even has those gill-like muscle ridges in his sides. His legs are something Dan Heng has never even seen before. His thighs were carved to show each individual muscle. They are so thick that together they were in line with his hips. Blade has more muscles than Dan Heng has names for them. 

“Wah~! Isn’t his body amazing!” March gushes. 

Her eyes are starry with genuine amazement and admiration. Dan Heng is certain that what he’s feeling isn’t any of that. He refuses to comment. 

It’s only now in full body that Dan Heng notices Ren’s other tattoos. There’s a black sword on his left forearm - a bit on the nose for Dan Heng’s tastes - and, more notable, a large portrait on his lower left thigh - half covered by his black shorts. It’s hard to tell from this distance, but he sees striking pops of spindly red against greyscale.

His recent work was taped over, which is for the best. No one should even be exercising with new ink, let alone fighting someone for five rounds, but there would have been no point in arguing with him.

The announcer introduces the first fighter into the cage. Ren secures his hair back into a messy bun, but some pieces still hang in his face. Dan Heng feels some sort of way about the fact that Ren has that damnable hairstyle for the sake of fighting better and not just to toy with him specifically.

“It’s starting!” March squeals and shakes Dan Heng’s arm.

The fighters stand toe to toe in the centre of the ring while the referee talks to them. Dan Heng is more taken aback by Ren’s sheer size after seeing him next to his competitor. The opponent is the same in stature, and surely in weight, but not in visible muscle mass. They each nod intermittently while putting in mouthguards. The ref steps back and they finish by bumping their gloves together before creating distance.

The tension in the room is suffocating. The crowd is restless and chanting, everyone waiting for the bell.

The bell rings, and it starts immediately.

The opponent lunges low and goes for Ren’s waist, arms outstretched. Instead of any attempts at deflection, Ren absorbs the blow at full force. The sound of the collision can be heard over the crowd, and yet Ren barely moves. In retaliation, his fist drives down into the fighter’s back with such force that it echoes and his grapple loosens.

Ren has the opening he needs and brings his knee into the opponent's chest. His defence is broken as he’s knocked up from the blow. Ren rears back, and the opponent barely manages to block before Ren’s leg connects with his gut and follows through. The fighter hits the spring-loaded mat with a resounding crack.

It’s at that moment, with the other fighter recovering from the blow, that Dan Heng can see a raging fire in Ren’s eyes. His presence fills every inch of the cage as he looks down on his opponent. He’s like a predator about to go in for the kill and amused by his prey’s struggle.

This is Blade in the ring. 

The other fighter recovers and goes for another grapple. He lands impressive strikes but Blade takes them. There’s a savagery in how hard Blade returns his blows. It’s as if they travel through the opponent and out the other side. 

The fight continues for a few agonising minutes. They remain on the floor for most of it, each attempting grapples and submission holds. The ref calls the round when Blade is mounted on the other fighter’s abdomen and punching down at his face. They break apart.

The crowd roars in excitement.

“Blade obviously won that round,” March shouted to him while leaning closer. “He dominated his opponent even when he tried to control.” Dan Heng looks at her like she’s grown a second head.

March had explained to him how the round scoring worked but he still doesn’t understand the criteria very well.

“I can’t believe you know so much about this.”

“It’s exhilarating!” March defends herself. “Even though it’s scary...”

Dan Heng could agree with that. Watching the fighters strike each other with hits that could break bones was frightening. It felt like the audience was always a few seconds away from witnessing a maiming. He still found this sport as brutish and unpalatable as before.

And yet he couldn’t deny the tingle of excitement he felt as he watched.

The fighters return to the centre, and then the next round begins.

This round goes quite like the first. They exchange jabs - the opponent defends more while Ren braces his body to take the hits - and then it devolves into a struggle of limbs on the mat. Blade’s larger size seems to hinder him in this domain. His opponent is more flexible and he uses Blade’s bigger limbs to his advantage with lock attempts. 

The fighter almost gets him into a dangerous lock but Blade fights back with a swing to the face. The sound it makes when it connects with the side of his skull is gut-wrenching.

The crowd’s shouting elevates. Dan Heng doesn’t understand the frenzy until he sees the smears of red on the white mat. 

Blood has been drawn.

At first, it’s hard to tell whose blood it is, but after the ref gets between them to call the round, you can see the bleeding wound on the opponent’s brow. Murmurs of oh gosh and how bad is it? comes from March.

Each fighter retreats to their corner. Medics swarm the other fighter to wipe away blood and inspect the injury. The atmosphere is tense while everyone waits for a verdict. After some commotion the officials return outside the cage, and the medic applies butterfly stitches and ointment. It seems the wound isn’t serious and the fight will continue.

His opponent appears to be regaining his composure, while across from him Blade watches him, panting in his corner. There’s faint blood smears across his pectorals and none of it is his.

Dan Heng feels a throb somewhere in his belly.

After the wound has been treated the referee beckons them both back to the centre to begin the third round. From the moment the bell rings Blade’s opponent acts defensively. He deflects blow after blow and avoids close engagement. He remains light on his feet while Blade bears down. 

This continues for a while until there’s a moment, maybe from a stumble or a bad call, where Blade’s offensive pressure relents. The other fighter closes the distance in the blink of an eye and grapples Blade’s arm, using it to pull his weight over his shoulder and slam his back into the mat. You couldn’t hear the crowd’s reaction over the sound of the impact.

The opponent keeps his grip on Blade’s arm and uses it as leverage to avoid any counterattack. Blade does well in forcing himself up onto a knee, but he can’t break free of his opponent’s constricting hold. The fighter bears down harder, elbow digging into Blade’s back for leverage and keeping his arm rigid behind him.

You could see the force of Blade trying to pull himself free from his body. The round ball of his shoulder strained against his skin and his veins were alarmingly visible. Blade was firmly locked in the submission hold and any further struggle would surely dislocate or break something. And yet he kept pulling himself away. The sheer physicality of his effort began tipping his opponent forward.

The whistle of the referee cut through the air and he motioned the fighters to disengage. It was far too soon for the round’s end and the crowd was out of their seats in response. The other fighter seems pleased.

“What happened?” Dan Heng asks March. 

“The round’s been called.” March watches the monitors above the ring for confirmation. “Blade lost to submission. I think the ref called it early to avoid serious injury.” 

What she probably means is that Blade was about to rip his arm out of its socket if the round wasn’t called. Dan Heng feels a bit queasy.

The fighters return to their corners. Blade removes his mouthpiece and spits onto the mat. He’s facing his corner and speaking to that same woman Dan Heng saw earlier behind the fence. He’s rolling his shoulder to test it, his expression is heavy. His eyes are dark behind his loose hair. 

He’s seething.

“He seems mad,” Dan Heng murmurs to March. She looks at him, holding her hands together tightly against her chest. She nods quickly.

Blade nods intermittently throughout his conversation - the woman must be his coach - as he reties his hair. He finishes by drinking some water before saying something to his coach. The referee calls the fighters back.

Blade returns his mouthguard and stalks back to the centre of the cage.

Dan Heng’s heart races. He doesn’t know if he’s scared or excited or worried or aroused or a bit of everything. His cheeks flush. 

Why aroused? Is he some kind of degenerate? He does not delight in violence.

Blade’s aura has changed from the start of the fight, and it seems that both the crowd and his opponent notice it. The crowd is squirming in excitement and chattering while the other fighter raises his fists to prepare a defence.

The bell chimes. 

Surprisingly nothing explosive happens from the start. The fighters exchange light blows and kicks but neither of them seem to be committing to engagement. Gradually the force of Blade’s strikes increases and his opponent is pressured to become more defensive lest he gain a fracture. Blade’s attacks become quicker as he pushes the offensive. 

Suddenly he stops for a moment, like he did in the last round. The opponent capitalises immediately and grapples his elbow - perhaps trying the same tactic as before.

But this time Blade responds. He lunges, using the momentum of his opponent’s pull to accelerate the slam of his shoulders into the other fighter’s abdomen. The man crumples inwards from the force.

They both crash into the mat and the crack of the ring is deafening. The competitor is rammed into the floor by Blade’s body and he’s clearly lost his grip on Blade’s arm. Blade’s on him in a second, pinning his waist with his thighs and body weight, and he goes for the head.

His strikes are quick and heavy. The sound of his gloves meeting the flesh of his opponent’s forearms is loud. The fighter defends admirably but soon he’s overwhelmed and Blade breaks through.

His viper-strike punches connect with the other fighter’s jaw. 

One. Two. Three. 

The opponent’s body loses tension. He ragdolls back onto the mat, limp.

The referee immediately intervenes with an arm between them and Blade halts the assault. His body is taught with restraint and he heaves with exertion. There’s a blood mist on his shoulder and blood on his chin.

Dan Heng’s stomach drops. March is covering her eyes (and peeking through her fingers). For a few horrible moments, he thinks he’s just witnessed a murder.

The ref looks to the man on the floor as Blade keeps panting while on top of him.

His arm raises by Blade’s side and a whistle is blown.

“Knockout!”

The crowd goes ballistic and jumps out of their seats. This includes March who is bouncing up and down and screaming. Dan Heng is swept up with the energy and finds himself on his feet too, but unlike March he isn’t blowing out his voice box. She clutches and shakes Dan Heng’s arm.

“He won!” 

Dan Heng sees the words ‘TKO’ flash on the monitors alongside slow-motion clips of the takedown. Red banners ripple across the arena crowd with Blade’s name. March is screaming towards the centre of the ring again. Her pink hair is positively vibrating with her excitement.

Looking back to the cage, officials surround the downed fighter. He appears to be moving again, looking up groggily and starting to make sense of his surroundings. Blade moves away and wipes his mouth. His lip is split and there’s blood in his mouth. He spits his mouthguard onto the floor. 

The referee grabs Blade’s wrist and raises his arm. The winner is declared.

Everything becomes more chaotic. The announcer is blaring over the speakers on top of triumphant music. Monitors flash the complete scores. There are pops of celebratory smoke among the chanting of the crowd. It’s overwhelming for Dan Heng.

Blade stands in the centre, with his officials celebrating around him, arm raised. He’s still breathing open-mouthed and sweat drips from his arms and face. He looks across the cheering crowd for the first time and lets the victory settle.

He pauses. Blade’s eyes meet his through the pulsing crowd. His carmine gaze holds and Dan Heng doesn’t breathe. After a moment, the corner of Blade’s bloody lip quirks and he grins. At him. 

The moment passes and Blade silently pumps his fist in victory to the roar of the crowd.

Dan Heng continues to think about it.

He lies in bed that night staring at the ceiling. Despite having spent the night watching unhinged violence, his mind keeps drifting back to Blade and his eyes. And if he’s not thinking of that, he’s thinking of Blade in the ring.

He should be trying to sleep. He has to meet his professor early tomorrow morning to discuss his thesis.

Dan Heng sighs and rolls onto his side, looking at his phone. He’s watching the highlights of the match. It was so high profile that some sports sites had been covering it. Dan Heng doesn’t understand why he can’t stop clicking on new clips.

Now that he can watch the fight in higher detail, and at times slowed down, Dan Heng can see the skill the fighters possessed. Although the fight had been uncomfortably violent and brutish, it wasn’t blind swings and rage. 

As someone who had practised martial arts, Dan Heng could see the influence of many different styles in how each contender fought. They executed techniques flawlessly.

And yet Blade was still different. He had the skills inherited from different disciplines, but there was something innate in him that didn’t have a name. Perhaps a primal aggression. It showed in the force of his strikes, in how he absorbed blows, or in how he mounted his opponent easily and beat them into submission.

Dan Heng locks his phone and stews in the dark.

He can’t stop thinking about Blade in that cage, smeared with blood and sweat, muscles swollen from use, chest heaving, and revelling in his physical dominance. How he shared that for just a moment with Dan Heng.

It’s disgusting, really. It’s neanderthal. How could anything like that be appealing to any respectable person?

Dan Heng presses his forehead into his phone screen as hard as he can.

He’s hard.

There’s no point in denying it. It’s been a while since Dan Heng had an erection outside of sleep, so the sensation was unmistakable. He can’t remember the last time he had one because of another person which wasn’t preempted by imminent sex.

This is ridiculous. Ren wasn’t even his type. Not that Dan Heng had much of a type, but it certainly wasn’t near-two-metre behemoths who pummelled other men into the ground for a career. No matter how attractive their face, voice or body was.

He must be losing his mind. Perhaps it’s stress induced by all the responsibilities he’s been juggling lately. His body probably just wants some relief.

Dan Hng deliberately rolls over onto his swollen dick. He suppresses the urge to grind down and withstands the angry throbbing. Dan Heng is a man of pride and good sense. He will not humiliate himself by being swept up in some stress-induced lust. He will wait out this hard period, both figuratively and literally.

Dan Heng staunchly ignores his body and eventually falls asleep, doing his best not to think about red eyes.

Session 3

Ren’s next appointment is several days later, and Dan Heng knows when he has arrived at the studio because he can hear March fawning over him from behind a door and down the hall. 

Clearly, there will be no way to downplay their attendance of his match now. 

Minutes later Ren enters his room. He’s uncomfortably holding a cup of tea, and it looks tiny in his big hands. Thank god Ren isn’t wearing his gym clothes today. Maybe Dan Heng has caught a break.

“She seems nice.” Ren seems a bit overwhelmed. Dan Heng can’t suppress an amused snort.

“It’s one of her best qualities,” Dan Heng responds flatly. Ren has a half smile and then shotguns his cup of tea. 

Dan Heng stares at him, pausing the preparation of his iron. “Wasn’t that hot?”

“Very.” Ren winces.

Dan Heng sighs, but he’s amused. He knows first-hand how hot March likes her tea. He’s impressed by Ren’s ability to handle pain. “Sit.” 

He finishes sanitising his tools while Ren settles down behind him. He pulls up his reference art and rolls over.

“We just have to finish the arm lineart and then -” Dan Heng looks up. Ren has taken off his shirt. Dan Heng wasn’t prepared for that, not yet. Ren looks at him like he’s waiting for Dan Heng to finish. “ - we’ll begin shading the head.” Dan Heng swallows. 

“Something wrong?”

“No,” he clicks his tongue. Dan Heng does everything in his power to repress a blush. “I just remembered something. School.”

Ren cocks his head like he’s interested, but Dan Heng needs to regain control and get this man’s beautiful tits out of his face.

“Lie down, on your front.” He adjusts the chair to lie flat and then busies himself unnecessarily with his cart. When Ren is settled his ankles hang off the edge of the chair.

“Could afford to be bigger.”

“Sorry, they don’t make chairs for giants. Stop complaining.” Ren laughs and Dan Heng adjusts Ren’s long hair to clear his back. It’s surprisingly soft. 

Now that he’s seeing Ren’s back again, Dan Heng immediately notices the changes. There are bruises and welts littered across his shoulders, spine and waist. The wounds are different in size, but all the bruises are dark purple and green. The biggest of them is clearly the size of a gloved fist.

Dan Heng can’t imagine how much it hurt getting these.

But considering the fight he saw, it’s impressive that Ren came out with only these injuries. He wonders what the aftermath looks like for the other fighter.

He realises that Ren has noticed he’s staring from over his shoulder. Dan Heng clears his throat and snaps on his gloves. 

“It’s pretty bad.” That’s all he says. He’s not really sure what he should say. He certainly isn’t going to mention that the evidence of Ren’s victory bruised into his skin is reigniting that new unhinged part of Dan Heng’s brain.

Ren shrugs as Dan Heng wipes down his skin with alcohol. “You should see the other guy.”

Dan Heng brings his iron to the top of the dragon’s body instead, avoiding the largest bruise. “I did. He looked royally fucked up.”

The cushion muffled Ren’s snort. “He’s fine. Just a few fractures.” Just a few fractures. Dan Heng shakes his head slightly. “I’ve seen, and done, far worse.”

Ren’s words hang and Dan Heng feels his heart skip. Part of him wants to know what the worst is, but he also doesn’t want that information to haunt the back of his mind whenever he sees him. Maybe it was actual manslaughter.

Dan Heng says nothing and continues to focus on shading. Ren’s skin seems to be bleeding a bit more than last time, but that’s to be expected considering the amount of broken blood vessels in his back. He does his best to avoid the deepest bruises.

“Understand the cage now?”

Dan Heng watches his needles create ink in their wake. His thoughts are back on the fight again, something he’s been trying to avoid since last night. He can almost still smell the stale beer and sweat in the air. 

“I do.” Dan Heng tattoos over a small pink welt. Something about putting ink into these battle wounds makes his stomach squirm. “It was an impressive fight.” Dan Heng desperately needs to change the topic. He can’t afford to get into the same headspace as he was in last night.

“You brought that secretary with you.” Ren’s tone is unreadable.

“March,” Dan Heng reminds him. “She’s a close friend.” Dan Heng finishes up the blending of a body segment. “She’s always been a lot. Even since we were younger.” He pictures the three of them when they were gawky teenagers and pretending to do homework. Honestly, if he didn’t have March or Stelle, Dan Heng doesn’t know if he’d be who he is today. “But she’s like family.”

Ren stirs slightly. “She’s cute.”

Dan Heng feels a tick of annoyance that he can’t place. He hopes it’s just because he’s protective of March. “If you say so.” He sounded a bit too snappy for his tastes.

Dan Heng can’t help but remember all the women in the crowd last night who were positively frothing over Blade. All of them varying in age and attractiveness. He even saw one big-breasted woman with ‘Blade’ written across her cleavage. Is that really what Ren is into?

He sits down on his stool and gingerly takes hold of Blade’s arm that is hanging off the chair edge to finish the line work of the tail. 

“I bet the women throw themselves at you.” Dan Heng isn’t sure why he couldn’t refrain from saying that. He sounds accusatory. Maybe he is accusing him.

“Yeah.” Dan Heng has the desire to stab one of Ren’s bruises with his iron. Cocky, bastard. “But I don’t have time for that shit,” he grumbles. Dan Heng feels some remorse. Okay, maybe he’s not that much of a bastard. 

Ren adjusts his neck and rests his cheek. His eyes are closed. The way the movement twitches muscles in his shoulders is bewitching. Like this, with Dan Heng by his arm, he can see Ren’s face up close. The split in his lip is healing.

“They don’t do it for me anyway,” Ren mutters. 

It takes a few seconds for Dan Heng’s brain to catch up to Ren’s words. Thank god he is busying himself with his iron. There’s a clench in his chest as the words echo and he considers the implication. He looks at Ren’s face and finds that Ren is staring right at him with those sharp eyes.

“I like the pretty ones.” His low voice goes straight to Dan Heng’s gut. Ren doesn’t break eye contact, and there’s a glitter of something taunting behind all that red.

Dan Heng twitches and immediately he’s flushed. Defiantly he grips Ren’s arm tighter and presses down a bit too hard with his iron. He can’t will away the burning from his cheeks so he looks down at his work.

“Degenerate.” Oh, that’s rich coming from him.

He can feel Ren’s eyes still on him, but Dan Heng refuses to give him any more satisfaction. He is going to continue to play this game where Ren isn’t potentially talking about him, at least for now - he needs to keep his sanity in check. He hears a low chuckle.

“Stop distracting me if you want this finished.” Dan Heng convinces his mind to only see skin under his iron again.

“You’re no fun,” Blade sighs. Closing his eyes, he doesn’t speak until the end of the session.

Like deja vu, Dan Heng finds himself staring at his ceiling again that night. 

This has to stop happening.

Tonight, he doesn’t torture himself by watching clips, but instead, he’s tortured by Ren’s words playing back in his head.

I like the pretty ones. 

There’s no way he can pretend that Ren’s words weren’t, at least partly, intended for him. Ren’s eyes were so sharp, so focused, that Dan Heng could see the gradient of gold. 

Heat crawls all the way down to his toes. Pretty reverberates in his ears. His skin prickles. Pretty as Ren looks at him. The warmth in his body intensifies. Pretty as Ren touches him -

Dan Heng throws an arm over his eyes. 

He’s hard, again.

He can feel sweat beading on his forehead. This is worse than last time. He’s supposed to be getting better at dealing with this, but instead, he’s getting worse. Maybe because now he’s dealing with Ren’s words as well as his body.

Why does pretty coming from Ren’s lips, and meant for him, make him feel like this? He’s never wanted flattery. He’s never cared for praise on his looks. He’s never desired it.

So, why? Why does his dick twitch when he plays those words back, and why does he think about Ren’s hands on him.

He can’t ignore the dampness in his shorts, and he can’t ignore the pulsing of his blood below. His hand twitches. Maybe he just needs some relief. 

Gingerly, Dan Heng slides his hand lower. He can feel the heat from his cock against his fingers. He can feel how embarrassingly hard he is. Dan Heng stutters on a breath and takes hold of himself. Immediately, he imagines a large calloused hand around him.

Dan Heng furiously sits up, panting. 

He will not. He doesn’t need any of this, and logically he shouldn’t even want any of it. He has pride in himself, in his ability to require no one. So why is he apparently so eager to throw it away for a man that fits none of his understood wants but yet finds unreasonably attractive? 

Dan Heng grunts as he throws off his blankets, and heads for the shower. 

It needs to be cold.

Session 4

Dan Heng was blessed with a weeklong break from his man-shaped problems. He had only gone to sleep with a hard-on one other time since so he counts that as an improvement.

And, when Ren arrives for his fourth session with his hair up and in his gym clothes, Dan Heng doesn’t need to inspect his desk immediately. He even manages to greet him. Progress.

However, it was a close call because the tank top Ren is wearing is lycra and so obscenely tight that it’s almost a binder. Is there a purpose for these shirts?

“Hey.” Oh god, Ren’s hands are wrapped in white athletic tape. Ren drops his bag at the door with a thunk. “Can I ask a favour before we start?”

Dan Heng looks at him curiously while testing his iron. Did he want him to sit on his - No, Dan Heng. 

“Could you touch up my thigh piece? It’s looking a bit rough.” Ren vaguely points down. His black shorts land above the knee, so they display a good portion of his tattoo. Usually, Dan Heng would say no to this sort of thing, but he has been wanting to see the artwork up close.

“I will charge you for it.” He checks the ink colours in his cart. “And it means your final piece will take longer.”

“That’s fine.” Ren immediately reclines against the chair and lays his legs out. 

Dan Heng scoffs indignantly, but he puts on his glasses and rolls his stool. “Alright. What’s the issue?”

“Looks faded and blurry.”

Dan Heng suppresses the feral part of his brain, before snapping on his gloves and inspecting Ren’s thigh. The tattoo lies across the centre of the left thigh and curves only slightly towards the inside. It’s large too, but more tall than wide - probably half the limb’s length.

It’s a beautiful piece. Against a grey, watercolour-esque background is a handful of vibrant, red spider lilies. They loosely overlap in a vaguely vertical pattern, and the pops of scarlet are well placed among monotone shading. The delicacy of the lilies' spindly petals and stamens catch the eye.

It reminds Dan Heng of some of the drawings he’s done, but he never thought about spider lilies quite like this.

“You’re right,” Dan Heng says after another closer look. “You have a bit of fading, and the colours could use some touching up. Lucky for you I have the skill to do it.”

“Which is why I asked you, for your skilled hands.” 

Dan Heng looks at Ren pointedly, stoically. He looks smug about his comment. Dan Heng refuses to be a flustered mess this time. Two can play at this game. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know how skilled they are?”

Ren raises an eyebrow and runs his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip. He snorts a short laugh. He’s pleasantly amused.

Dan Heng wipes down the lower part of Ren’s thigh with disinfectant. This is dangerous territory for him. He’d only seen Ren’s thighs at a distance, and even then they were impressive. Up close is far worse. His thighs don’t look like normal ones. There’s no smooth, fleshy roundness to them, instead, it's only slabs of hot muscle.

Dan Heng breathes in deeply through his nose. If he looks at these legs as a marvel of human anatomy rather than attractive, he can distance himself from any wild notion of sitting on them.

He begins with shading in some faded spots on a lily, blending to make it seamless. There aren’t too many faded spots to cover, but some of the fine line work should be touched up. He will likely need to use thinner needles for that.

“Was there a reason you got this?” Dan Heng keeps his eyes locked on his work.

“It helped to cover some scars.” Ren doesn’t look up from his phone. Now that he mentions it, Dan Heng can see the traces of uneven skin in a few places.

“I’ve noticed you have a lot of them,” Dan Heng murmurs tentatively. He’s counted about seven on Ren’s back, most of them small. The biggest of them is going to be covered by his piece. They also seem to be quite old and faded, so it would be hard to see at a distance. 

“Mmh,” Blade grunts.

“All from fighting?” 

“Only one.” Ren continues to scroll. He doesn’t look up.

Dan Heng takes the hint. If Ren wants to talk about it, he will. And while it’s interesting small talk, Dan Heng isn’t about to dig into someone’s personal history. He knows he would hate it if someone did the same to him.

“So, why spider lilies?” Dan Heng keeps his tone disinterested and light, shifting the mood.

“I don’t really know. Subconsciously, it means something to me.” Ren looks up at the ceiling in thought. “Maybe it’s from a past life or something.” Dan Heng’s heart flutters from a feeling of kinship.

“Me too.” Dan Heng pauses his iron to roll up his sleeve. He briefly shows Ren his right inner forearm. A few inches up from his pale wrist is a minimalist tattoo of a lotus. Above that is a pair of sparse, stubby antlers.

He returns to his iron.

“Do you have any other tattoos?” Ren asks a minute later. Dan Heng debates saying anything.

“A dragon.” He relents.

“Huh. And you gave me shit for wanting one.” Dan Heng’s eyebrow twitches in response, but he can’t defend himself from the jab. “As big as mine?” 

Dan Heng can feel his blood rise. He will not fall for this. And he certainly isn’t going to show Ren that the dragon on his arm is the same one on his.

“Tch. No.” He can see Ren grinning from his peripheral vision, and he does his best to ignore him.

Comfortable silence follows for the next while, only filled with the sound of the iron buzzing. Dan Heng finishes touching up some of the delicate lines. All that’s left is re-shading some of the grey background. 

He changes his colours before pushing up the side of Ren’s black shorts to expose the rest of the tattoo. It stops relatively high up. Maybe a hand down from pelvis level.

Dan Heng admires the shading effect of the grey ink. It gives the impression of a watercolour bloom. Dan Heng pushes the shorts up higher until he finds the end boundary, then prepares an alcohol wipe.

As he swipes it across the portion closer to the inner thigh his fingers brush into something. Dan Heng wonders why Ren has something in the pocket of his gym shorts. Surely that’s not secure. Then it occurs to him that pockets are on the outside of the leg. Then what -

The realisation almost hits Dan Heng off his stool.

It’s Ren’s dick.

And considering the location of where he brushed against it, it’s his massive dick.

All of the feelings he’s successfully repressed surge up immediately and breakthrough. Dan Heng feels like he’s going to faint from all the sudden rushing blood. 

How big is this actually? How thick? Does it get even bigger when it’s hard? What does it feel like? What does it taste like? How would it feel inside -

Dan Heng bumps into his cart as he stands up. 

“Excuse me. Need more ink.” Dan Heng avoids all eye contact. He keeps his voice level.

It requires every ounce of Dan Heng’s willpower to pull off his latex gloves calmly and make his way to the walk-in storage closet in the hall without arousing suspicion. Ren turns back to his phone, so it seems he’s successful. 

Once he quietly shuts the door of the closet behind him, he takes a deep breath in and then slams both hands into a standing shelf.

A box wobbles off the top and narrowly misses him on the way down. It makes an ungodly noise when it hits the floor.

Dan Heng barely notices. He’s too focused on controlling his breathing while staring at the ground.

He really shouldn’t have made this discovery. It’s acted as a key for that accursed part in his brain. His thoughts are just a neverending torrent of fuckfuckfuck and every degenerate thought he’d ever had of Ren.

Ren’s rough hands touching him. His hair tickling his neck. The firmness of his thighs. Ren bodying someone into a mat. His taunting eyes. Pretty. And now his dick. Hot in his hands. Hotter inside of him. Fucking him.

Dan Heng shakes the shelf again. He’s starting to get hard.

Get a grip!

“Uh... Dan Heng?” A soft voice asks, followed by a knock.

Oh God, it’s March. He does not have the mental capacity to deal with March right now, and he certainly isn’t in the right condition to face her.

“Do you need help getting something?”

Dan Heng drops his forehead onto a wooden edge. Phrasing, March. She’s trying to help, but she really isn’t. She’s encouraging his thoughts.

“Not now, March!” His voice is hoarse. This is so embarrassing.

“Jeez, you don’t have to be such a dick about it,” March complains. Please, can we stop talking about dicks. He hears a huff, and then her footsteps disappear down the hall. 

She didn’t deserve that. He will need to treat her to one of her favourite sugary drinks later. But for now, he needs to get himself under control, and quickly, before his absence becomes suspicious. He will not have a boner at work. 

If his pride was strong enough to stop him before, then he can do it again. He leans back and clears his mind. He thinks about his two-hundred-page thesis. He thinks about all the editing he has to do. He thinks about his looming deadline. He thinks about a disappointed look on Professor Welt’s face. He thinks about how early he has to wake up tomorrow.

That did the trick. There’s nothing more arousal-killing than crushing anxiety.

Dan Heng adjusts his shirt and luckily remembers to grab an ink bottle on his way out of the closet. There was probably a metaphor in here somewhere. He leaves the box of tools spilled on the floor. 

“Found some,” Dan Heng announces as he re-enters his studio. Ren looks up from his phone with a slightly puzzled expression.

“Did something break?”

Dan Heng clears his throat and answers calmly. “No, I just knocked over a box. The storage room is very cluttered.” It isn’t.

Ren nods, seemingly satisfied. He stretches out his leg again - his shorts still rucked up high on his leg.

“No, I’m done. Let’s do your shoulder.”

“Didn’t you just fetch that ink for it?” Ren asks. Fuck.

“No, I need it for your back.” Dan Heng is impressed by how well he can keep stoic while spewing absolute bullshit.

“Oh.” Ren seems a bit confused, but he doesn’t say anything more. 

Dutifically, Ren pulls off his shirt and rolls over onto his stomach. Dan Heng counts his blessings that this shirt had been so tight that he was practically shirtless when he came in today anyway. Although, at this angle, he does have a great ass.

Dan Heng closes his eyes and breathes in. Let’s not go there again. 

Dan Heng spends the remainder of the session inking Ren’s shoulder and staying as far away from the vicinity of his dick as possible.

When he lies in bed, he doesn’t bother trying to put up a fight.

Clearly, he is far too pent-up to continue acting like a normal human being. Perhaps refusing to masturbate when he is obviously built up with tension was a bad idea. 

It’s not like he has an issue with masturbating, he’s done it plenty, but it has never been because of another person.

He doesn’t need any material to get him going. All he has to do is unrein his sensibilities, and every thought and fantasy charges back.

Dan Heng tries to pretend that he’s just masturbating for himself, but in seconds he’s feeling Ren’s hands on his cock instead. The thought alone has him curving up to his stomach. He pushes his face into his pillow to cover his moans. He lives alone. No one will hear him, but he still tries to hide his noises in shame. 

Within minutes he’s hunched over with his head in his pillow, knees digging into the mattress, and hurriedly stroking his cock. It drools into his palm. He is so close already.

Desperately wanting more, he sucks on two of his fingers before pushing them inside of himself. It feels good, but it could be better. The angle is too awkward. But he thinks of Ren, thinks of his fingers on his skin, thinks about him breathing into his ear, thinks about his cock spreading him open -

He squeezes around his fingers. Dan Heng’s whole body shakes, and he moans a name into his pillow as come slides down his wrist. 

He slowly milks his orgasm until he’s spent, before flopping onto his stomach and basking in the leftover warmth of his high. That was embarrassingly fast, but what did he expect after holding back? 

Dan Heng lets all of his chaotic thoughts pop like bubbles until he’s left with only a sea of calm.

Afterwards, when he’s cleaned up his mess, he finds himself on his phone again. His browser is still open on passionfruit.com and displaying a wide variety of dildos. 

He can’t help but try to imagine which would compare to what he discovered today. Thank god it isn’t close to a ‘dragon dildo’, what the fuck. But even the larger realistic ones are still frighteningly obscene. Surely Ren isn’t that large.

This is a dangerous train of thought and not a path he’s going to go down. He may have relented and permitted himself to masturbate to his thoughts, but buying a Ren-sized dildo is wildly too far. He will be satisfied without it. Dan Heng locks his phone and rolls over to sleep.

The next morning, he wakes up feeling rested for the first time in weeks.

Session 5

However, that sense of calm gradually wore off after a few days. 

Maybe that's because he has limited himself to one free Ren jerk-off session, and no more. To make matters worse, he can’t even jerk off for the stress-relieving endorphins anymore because he always ends up thinking about Ren. So, he is stuck with only getting another freebie if it is a dire emergency, like last time.

The weather has been getting colder, so when Ren comes for his next session he’s wearing the coat he wore the first time they met. It reminded Dan Heng of the good times when he was normal.

Dan Heng isn’t in the best space. He’s slowly becoming overwhelmed by all of his current responsibilities versus his limited time, and the Ren problem hasn’t gone away. At least it seems that his sanity baseline has improved.

“Nice sweater,” Ren comments after sitting on the chair. He’s smiling at him somewhat teasingly.

Dan Heng is reminded that he’s wearing the oversized sweater March had gifted him. It’s grey with a strange, anthropomorphic rabbit wearing a train conductor uniform on the front. March bought it because she thought it was cute, and Dan Heng had accepted it because it was unreasonably soft. He needs to do his laundry.

“Thanks,” Dan Heng murmurs. He pushes up his sleeves and begins to don his gloves. “March -”

“- bought it for you,” Ren finishes. “I figured.” He reaches over and rubs the bottom of the sweater between his fingers. “It’s cute.” Dan Heng feels his cheeks warm.

“I’ll tell her to buy you one. She’ll be thrilled.” Ren is sitting close, their knees are touching. Dan Heng feels unsettled, but it’s with an emotion he isn’t familiar with. “But good luck to her finding one in your size.” Dan Heng slaps both sides of Ren’s shoulders for emphasis. Dan Heng’s hands sting from the impact.

“Now, strip. Let’s finish the back.” Dan Heng is impressed by his own confidence. He’s feeling rarely positive today.

“I told you I could charge for the show.” Ren raises an amused eyebrow and obeys.

Dan Heng’s positive mood immediately gets spiked into the ground. That comfortable warmth that was sitting in his chest turns into hot anger.

Ren has a bite mark. It’s on his shoulder, close to the neck. The exact place someone would bite if Ren was fucking them into a surface. At least Ren’s companion had the courtesy to bite him on the other shoulder and not ruin his work.

Dan Heng immediately pushes Ren to lie down, who makes a confused grunt into the mattress. Ren’s back has lines of welts. So, his bed partner also clawed him up. Dan Heng doesn’t want to look at his stupid face right now. 

As he begins his work, detailing scales on the dragon’s body, he assesses why he feels so... angry. He doesn’t usually feel anger towards people - frustration, annoyance, and dislike, sure, but anger is rare. Is it because of something as petty as jealousy? 

Dan Heng wipes away ink and blood with a cloth while he ruminates. Maybe a fraction is jealousy, but that isn’t the reason he feels so pissed, the reason he feels so... embarrassed.

Oh, that’s it.

He feels embarrassed, ashamed and stupid. Here he is, gradually losing his mind dealing with all of these new confusing urges, and Ren is just going on with his life as usual. Dan Heng is lying awake at night and desperately trying not to masturbate, while he’s out fucking men, women, or both.

It painfully reminds Dan Heng that he is the only one having these difficulties. The feeling isn’t mutual, and that realisation makes him feel shame at his core. It makes him feel so angry, at himself, and then by extension, Ren.

If he works quickly he can have this tattoo done in two more sessions, and then he can get this disaster out of his life for good.

“You’ve mentioned school a few times.” Ren’s voice can barely be heard over the buzzing iron. “What year?”

Dan Heng really doesn’t want to talk to him. He still has irritation coursing through his veins like poison.

“Masters.” Dan Heng tries to be as curt as possible.

“Impressive. What subject?”

“Chemistry.” He refrains from digging the iron into his skin.

“Oh? What type?”

“Look.” Dan Heng snaps, lifting the iron. “You wouldn’t understand it.” He keeps his voice level, but his sour mood is still evident in his tone. He returns the iron to Ren’s skin. A few beats pass by in tense silence before Ren speaks again.

“Right. I forgot I’m just a meathead.” His tone is flat.

Dan Heng feels a pang of regret that humbles him. He didn’t mean it like that. He just wanted to stop the conversation, but now he’s just been a dick and insulted his intelligence. 

He sighs remorsefully. He may be angry, but that isn’t a good enough reason to be hostile to Ren. It isn’t his fault Dan Heng is a mess.

“Biophysical Chemistry.” Dan Heng gently wipes ink from Ren’s shoulder. “My thesis is on how molecules behave in human cells.” Dan Heng switches to shading the dragon’s underbelly. “My PhD will probably be around using light to identify key molecules in blood. If I even get that far.” He scoffs. “My Masters is due this year. Kill me.”

“Interesting. I don’t know shit about biology, but I know a bit about generic chemistry. Metallurgy specifically.”

“Metallurgy?” Dan Heng is surprised. “That’s oddly specific.”

“Blacksmith.”

“You’re a blacksmith?” That would explain the callouses he’s seen on Ren’s hands, and maybe some of the burn-looking scars.

“Only as a part-time hobby.” Ren shrugs his shoulders and Dan Heng forcefully holds them still. “I used to do it professionally, though.”

Dan Heng is careful with his shading over one of the welts on Ren’s shoulder blade. The scratch sits close to one of Ren’s bigger scars. “Is that why you have all these scars? Can’t imagine blacksmithing being safe.”

“Most of them. I wasn’t very careful as a kid.”

“You started as a kid?” Dan Heng finds himself staring at the back of Ren’s head. Ren snorts.

“Twelve, I think.”

Considering Ren is so unphased about his physical safety as an adult, he must have been even worse as a child. It’s nearly impossible to imagine. 

“I’m shocked you’re still alive.” Ren laughs lightly at the comment. 

“To be honest, me too. It’s a miracle I didn’t blind myself.”

Dan Heng doesn’t want to know how you can get blinded from blacksmithing. That is an image he can live without. But, he is curious to learn more about the craft.

“Can’t say I’ve ever met a blacksmith.” 

“Hmm, can’t say I’ve met a scientist who’s a tattoo artist either.” Dan Heng hides a smile from him. A biologist or biophysicist would be more accurate, but Dan Heng isn’t about to correct him. Only his professor would know that. 

“Then I guess we’re a weird pair.”

They fill up the time talking about their respective side hustles until the appointment is over. Dan Heng begins to pack up his things while Ren gets dressed. This is his last appointment for today.

“Oh, can you do me a favour?” Dan Heng looks up from sanitising his tools. Ren raises his arms to tie up his hair. “Can you patch this bite? You have some supplies right?”

Dan Heng stares at him like he’s growing a second head. 

Was he fucking serious? Dan Heng had finally neutralised his bad mood from earlier, and now this bastard has brought it right back by asking him to attend to his fuck wound. It takes everything in Dan Heng’s power not to throw his tool tray at him.

“I am not a doctor,” Dan Heng hisses, furiously wiping down his iron. 

Not only has it been rubbed in his face that Ren is as free as a bird, but now this motherfucker wants the man who’s been having meltdowns because of him to treat his sex wounds. “Have someone else treat your sex bite.”

“Sex bite?” Ren sounds genuinely confused. Dan Heng looks up, preparing to give him his best death glare. “I had a fight. Fucker bit me.”

Dan Heng can almost feel the tumbleweed blow through his mind as the information sinks in. He what? He was bitten in the ring? He didn’t have a bite because he fucked someone?

Oh, Dan Heng is mortified.

To hide his sheer embarrassment Dan Heng murmurs fine and immediately hides by standing up and applying an alcohol swab to the bite. Now that he’s up close, he notices that the bite is quite deep and the skin around it looks angry and pink.

“Isn’t biting illegal in the ring?” Dan Heng mumbles, desperately trying to push down the hot humiliation.

“Very,” Ren replies. “He’s not making any qualifier matches this season.”

Dan Heng’s cheeks are still burning. He can’t believe he got so worked up, and for something that was just an assumption.

“You should get a professional to care for this.” 

“I have. Just want it clean for the gym.” Dan Heng lays a square of gauze and tapes it over the bite. “You really thought this was a sex bite?”

Dan Heng resists poking him right in the wound. “You don’t usually come across people getting bitten in a fight. Especially when it’s here.” He fails and pokes it, hard. Ren flinches.

“I guess.” Ren rolls his shoulder, making sure the tape is stuck down. Dan Heng returns to his things. He’s ready to pretend that this whole appointment didn’t happen. 

“Well, for future.” Ren stands, shrugging on his coat. Dan Heng watches him from his desk. Ren’s eyes catch his like they have done many times before. “I don’t let just anyone bite me.” Dan Heng’s stomach clenches at the smirk Ren flashes him. “Thanks, doc.”

Ren leaves and Dan Heng tries not to imagine if he would let him.

Dan Heng locks up the studio after he finishes sorting his things. March left earlier, and Ren had been the final client of the day, so Dan Heng is the last one out. Stelle finished up before him, so he was going to meet up with her before he bunkers down for a night of editing.

The snow season has begun, so he pulls on his coat. He can see Stelle across the street waiting for him. 

“You following me home now?” 

Dan Heng startles and almost slips on the icy stairs. Ren is standing off to the side, a few paces from the entrance. He’s balancing a worn-down cigarette between his fingers. How did Dan Heng not notice his large, dark figure near him?

“Like a lost cat.”

Ren tips his chin and exhales smoke into the icy air. The smoke rises out of his mouth in a swirling white stream. The contrast is striking against his messy dark hair. It’s a haunting visual, and it’s yet another thing to lock away in Dan Heng’s box of sexual torment.

“Are you stalking me?” Dan Heng asks flatly. He tries not to watch how Ren’s chest expands when he breathes in another drag. When will he be able to finally escape this man?

“Would you like that?” Dan Heng rolls his eyes. At least he can argue that his cheeks are pink from the cold. Ren lets out a short laugh, smoke puffs out in front of him. “Just having a smoke. You can relax.”

“It’s a horrible habit.” Dan Heng passes his keys around in his palm. He’s always hated smoking. He would even consider it a major turnoff, and yet once again Ren seems to be the exception in Dan Heng’s book of rules.

“So is fighting for a living.” Ren’s eyes rake over him, noting his clothes. “You heading out?”

“Hanging out with Stelle.” Dan Heng nods in her direction. Ren follows his gaze until he spots her down the street. Stelle is unapologetically staring back at them with her usual blank expression.

“Ah, her.” Ren breathes in the last of his cigarette, the glow burning down to the filter. He flicks it onto the pavement and crushes it under his boot. He exhales slowly and the smoke drifts out. “Tell her thanks for the referral.”

Dan Heng can feel sweat collecting under his collar. Ren’s aura is already intense, but adding this new layer of laid-back smoking makes his presence even more overwhelming.

“Sure.” He begins to back away. “See you next week.” Ren gives him a lazy salute with two fingers at his temple. 

Ren moves towards a motorcycle that’s a few paces behind him. How did Dan Heng not notice that either? Of course, he rides a motorcycle, why wouldn’t he? It’s just one more life-threatening feature he’s collected. And of course, Dan Heng finds it hot, even though he’s never done so before.

Dan Heng refuses to watch him suit up and straddle it. He has enough wisdom to know what’s good for him. He walks across the street to meet Stelle, and he can hear the roar of an engine behind him.

Stelle gives him a loose wave, saying nothing. She has always been a woman of few words, and that is something Dan Heng likes most about her. March speaks enough for the three of them.

Wordlessly they set off in the direction of their local cafe while Dan Heng admires the shedding trees. He’s so happy for the peace and quiet until Stelle ruins it.

“Does that guy know you want him to plough you like a field?”

“Stelle! ” He hisses as if the empty streets could hear her. 

Stelle only stares back. She has the barest raise of an eyebrow and tilt to her lips. She’s clearly amused by his reaction, and she’s gotten the answer she needs.

He and Stelle have never talked about these sorts of things. She is the calm ship to March’s neverending rollercoaster of fun. So for her to have come out and blatantly commented on his current sexual crisis... he’s been utterly betrayed.

“I can’t believe you,” he grumbles. Stelle continues to smile at him serenely. “... is it that obvious?” 

Despite the betrayal, he won’t admit it to anyone but Stelle.

Stelle gently pats him on the shoulder and nods. He sighs heavily. “To me,” she adds helpfully.

Dan Heng pushes his face into his palm. His ears are hot. He is in deeper shit than he thought if the world around him can notice how unhinged he’s becoming. He has to get himself sorted out, and fast.

They walk in silence, and Dan Heng takes the time to get his embarrassment under control. He reminds himself that Stelle is still his confidante.

“I assumed you were asexual,” she comments quietly after a few minutes. There’s no judgement in her tone, only mild interest.

“To be honest, me too.” Dan Heng sighs heavily again. He really wouldn’t talk to anyone but Stelle about this. “I still think I am, at least partly.” 

He has never given his sexuality any stringent thought, but he is self-aware enough to know that he doesn’t seem to feel the same way about sexual attraction as the rest of ‘normal’ society. He still finds cute girls cute, admires handsome men when he sees them, and indulges in sexual pleasure when and if he feels like it - but he knows he’s different to the norm. 

It has never bothered him - he was quite content with how he was. And then Ren happened and threw all of his known identity into a hurricane and left him to try to hold on to something.

“So, just not with him?” Stelle asks.

“Just not with him...” Dan Heng confirms, gravely.

Stelle snorts quietly, and then she pats his shoulder again in a show of sympathy for his struggle. She looks at him with a gentle expression, her eyes shining with sincerity. 

“It’s okay for you to be a slut.”

Dan Heng shoves her into the empty road and tells her to shut up. Stelle beams at him with a dopey-eyed smile. 

He won’t say it, but those words do make him feel marginally better, and he’s sure that Stelle knows that too. It reminds him that it’s okay to act differently and to accept new things about himself.

She returns to his side and says nothing more. Before they finish and drop this conversation, hopefully forever, Dan Heng has one last request.

“March can’t know about this.” Stelle nods.

Session 6

Somehow, March knows about it, or at least she knows something. 

A week later, on their sixth session, March guides Ren into Dan Heng’s studio with a brighter-than-usual smile. She seems to have just finished a conversation with him.

“Let me take your coat!” She looks so small compared to Ren; she barely comes up to his shoulders. 

Ren shrugs off his coat, only to confirm that he’s wearing gym clothes underneath. What the fuck, is this man allergic to clothes? It’s snowing outside.

Dan Heng can see the innocent glittering in March’s eyes as she looks at him. In his workout clothes, Ren’s massive build is on peak display.

“Wow~ you really are big, huh.” Unlike most people, March is transparently earnest. “How tall are you anyway?”

Ren looks down at her. It’s comical comparing them next to each other - him in all of his huge dark glory versus her small, pink and baby-blue charm.

“One nine five.”

That makes Dan Heng’s eyes water. Dan Heng is considered tall at 178 centimetres, but Ren makes him look, and feel, small.

March whistles. “I don’t think I’ve met anyone that tall before! And definitely not as big!” She gives him a beaming eye smile. “No wonder Dan Heng -” 

He panics as soon as he hears his name.

“Thank you, March!” Dan Heng instinctively slaps a hand over her mouth. Thank god he is standing near the door. “Please leave, we have work to do.”

March looks at him with faux innocence, but Dan Heng can see the devious smugness behind their sparkle.

“Ah, sorry~” She peels Dan Heng’s hand off her face and holds it between hers. “Let me leave you two alone.” She squeezes his hand. The panic continues to rise in Dan Heng’s stomach. March turns to Ren. “I’ll see you later!” 

She giggles on her way out with Ren’s coat.

This is a disaster. 

“So...” Dan Heng almost jumps out of his skin - he nearly forgot that Ren is here. “No wonder Dan Heng...?” Ren trails off. 

His name in that voice causes sparks down his spine - is this the first time Ren’s said his name? 

“... hates you so much,” Dan Heng responds, flatly. Ren’s red eyes stare a hole through him, sensing bullshit. “Sit. We’ve wasted enough time.”

Dan Heng collects his tools and moves his stool to the client's chair. Ren is already seated and waiting, with no shirt in sight. Dan Heng remains behind him - he’s much safer back here with minimal distraction.

“Aren’t we doing the top?” Ren taps the bridge of his right shoulder. The linework is already in place and ready to be shaded.

“Yeah?” Dan Heng snaps on his gloves.

“Do it from the front - angle’s better.” Ren is starting to tie up his hair to allow for a clean canvas. It exposes the sculpt of his neck.

Dread fills Dan Heng’s stomach at the suggestion. He’s never worked on Ren while facing him, so he hasn’t built any resistance to that distraction. 

The worst part is that Ren is right. Trying to fill in this section while facing his back would be needlessly difficult. He doesn’t have any logical reason to decline.

He breathes in deeply and moves around to the other side. Ren is seated, but he’s almost at the same height as Dan Heng who’s standing. Clearly, his height isn’t just in his legs.

This is a dangerous position to be in. From his higher vantage point, Dan Heng can only see the endless expanse of flesh in front of him - the rise of his pectorals, the muscled slope from shoulders to neck, the thickness of his torso, the chisel of his chest. The swirl of the dragon’s shape climbing along the top of his shoulder looks beautiful.

Dan Heng reminds himself once again that he is a professional.

He begins inking after wiping down Ren’s skin. Just like his back, Ren’s shoulder is unyielding under his iron. They’re standing so close like this - Dan Heng almost in between Ren’s parted thighs - and it’s difficult to concentrate. He can see the wisps of his dark hair falling around his neck.

“Got plans this evening?” Ren’s sudden voice spooks him, and he almost tattoos into his clavicle. He wasn’t prepared for his deep voice so close to his ear. They have never been this close before.

“Rewriting and being miserable,” Dang Heng laments. His deadline is less than a month away, and now he has more than one reason to lose sleep at night.

“Sad.” Ren angles his head, stretching his neck to give Dan Heng more room. Dan Heng feels hot under the collar. “Why not come to a match? You can be miserable there.”

Dan Heng snorts. Ren’s neck tenses and his head twists to make eye contact behind the loose strands of his hair. “It’s my match.”

There’s a shot of dread - and excitement - in Dan Heng’s veins. He really, really shouldn’t, especially considering how much of a disaster the aftermath was for him last time. Plus, he genuinely does have coursework to do. 

“I really shouldn’t.” Dan Heng focuses on the blend of shadows on Ren’s skin. Ren smiles wryly. 

“Too bad. I invited Pinky.”

Oh great, now he can’t avoid going. March will break down his door and drag him by the arm if he tries to ghost her - he’s already done that too many times this year. On top of that, Dan Heng's affectionate instincts aren’t comfortable with the idea of March being alone in that rabid crowd.

“That’s low.” Dang Heng glares at him. Ren doesn’t even flinch. “And her name is March.”

“Mmm.” The sound rumbles in Ren’s chest and vibrates between them. He’s looking over Dan Heng’s face languidly, it leaves him feeling light-headed. “You’re avoiding the question, Dan Heng.”

Dan Heng swallows hard and forces himself to look away and back to his work. He can hear his name echoing in his ears. 

“Front row or I’m not coming.” He sighs dramatically like he’s making the biggest sacrifice in the world.

Dan Heng picks up his glasses from the cart and slips them on. He inspects the finer scales.

“Already done. You could’ve extorted me for more.” 

There’s pressure against Dan Heng’s thighs - it’s Ren’s legs closing in on him slightly. Ren shows no signs that it’s intentional, continuing to watch Dan Heng’s iron. He’s more caged in against Ren now, and it’s getting harder to remain unaffected. Like this, it’s too easy to imagine what being in his lap would feel like.

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” Dan Heng mumbles.

He jolts suddenly as his hair is brushed up from his forehead. Ren’s hand is so close to his face. Dang Heng freezes up like he’s prey caught in a trap.

“You wear glasses?” Ren keeps Dan Heng's hair off his forehead as he scans his face, eyes drifting along the frame on his cheeks, around his eyes, and then into them.

“Yeah,” Dan Heng replies dumbly. “For fine details.” Ren’s breathing whispers across his skin. It feels so good.

“It suits you.” Ren pushes his hair back a little further. The heat of his hand soaks into him, luring Dan Heng deeper into his trap. Ren’s eyes scrape over him, there’s something sharp behind the pool of red that’s overwhelming.

“Pretty.”

Dan Heng’s breath catches, and hot blood surges through every vessel. He’s been wanting to hear that for long. It has haunted him every night for weeks.

His hand lands on Ren’s other shoulder - mostly to keep steady. He pushes Ren’s hand away in his final effort to save himself. “Don’t -” His hair sweeps back into place. He steadies his breathing, resisting with everything he has, “- distract me.”

Dan Heng shifts to create space until he's no longer between Ren’s thighs. If Ren continues to touch any part of him, he’s not sure what he’ll do. He channels all of his strength into keeping focused.

“As you wish,” Ren responds, his voice unreadable. He leans forward to allow Dan Heng more space to work. Like this, Dan Heng can’t see his face anymore. He’s thankful for the small mercy.

Dan Heng’s hand remains steady for the rest of the session, but his mind is anything but. Words and looks replay on a loop, he’s hypersensitive to every shift and sound, and the logical part of him keeps asking why.

Why is he like this, why does this keep happening? This tension, is Dan Heng the only one who feels it? Ren is so composed, but he’s suffocating.

He’s finished the work on Ren’s shoulder when the time’s up. The thought sinks into him that there’s only one section left, and after that, he’s free from Ren. He’s been praying to be free for weeks, but now he only feels wrung out instead of relieved.

Ren says it looks good, looking into the hand mirror Dan Heng holds. He doesn’t really pay attention.

Ren’s leaning back onto his palms, every inch of his body on display - from his neck down to the dangerous black border on his hips, flesh taut as if it were canvas stretched over a frame.

Dan Heng wants to be caged between his legs again, he wants to be crushed against him, and he wants to know what it feels like to be held by him. He can’t focus on anything else. Before he knows it, Ren is seeing himself out.

“See you tonight.” Ren pulls on his dark coat, stopping to add, “Kafka’ll send you tickets.” There’s a bright goodbye from March in the hall.

Dan Heng just loosely waves, and then he’s alone. He’s alone with his thoughts. He’s not holding it together, but he needs to. He’s going back into hell this evening.

He lives two blocks away.

“Hey March, I’m going to head home for lunch.” March looks at him from her desk with a puzzled expression. “I’ll be back in time for my next appointment.” He grabs his messenger bag and he’s out the door before March can even question his decision.

March wouldn’t have been able to stop him, anyway. He’s already too far gone.

There’s something carnal building within him, something he’s never felt, and it scares him.

Dang Heng makes it home within ten minutes, and he doesn’t bother taking off any clothes. He doesn’t even move from the front door, instead, he just leans back against it, trembling.

He muffles himself with one hand, and the other is already in his pants. 

His skull grinds against the door and he can feel his cock hardening rapidly, like it’s been waiting for this.

He spits in his hand - vulgar, he doesn’t recognise himself anymore - and strokes faster. He’s frenzied, overheated, claustrophobic. He lifts his shirt into his mouth and his hand joins the other.

Behind his eyes, Ren’s in front of him. He’s in his lap, Ren’s thigh pushing between his legs, and his hands are on him, scraping across his flesh. He’s trapped by him, by his arms, by his chest, and his breath is in his ear. His fingers leave bruises.

Ren pulls him across his thigh, Dan Heng palms himself hard, his hand’s holding his head, Dan Heng crushes his head against the wood, his tongue is hot against his throat, Dan Heng exposes his neck, his hand settles on his ass, Dan Heng bucks into his fist, and he breathes those words into his ear, Dan Heng spasms and slides to the floor.

Cum leaks across his fingers, soaking into his underwear, and Dan Heng shakes in a crumpled mess on the welcome mat. The flood of relief overpowers the shame. 

He catches his breath, gathering his bearings. His back complains, his neck hurts, and the sweat is cooling under his clothes. The orgasm felt good, but Dan Heng already feels like soon this won’t be enough to keep him in check.

He’s a mess - he’s still bent in on himself, his fly undone, dick out. He wipes a hand clean on his jeans - he will need to change anyway - and takes out his phone. This is officially the lowest point he’s reached. 

He can’t believe he’s going to do this, but he’s convinced the situation is dire enough. He pulls open his browser, finds the bookmark, considers surely this one is the same size, and adds the item to his cart. He confirms payment for the 8-inch dildo.

He gradually sits up and a part of his back cracks in revenge. The wetness in his pants has grown cold, just like how the warm relief has gone tepid. 

He considers where everything went wrong.

This fight wasn’t as torturous as the last - maybe that’s because he jerked off less than five hours ago, or maybe it’s because the fight isn’t as explosive. It's a standard match, not a championship defence, and Ren seems to be putting in minimal effort.

Even with minimal effort, Blade dominates his opponent in every round. March jumps up and down with her ‘Blade’ banner every time Ren is awarded ten points. 

The fight doesn’t end in a knockout this time, instead, the opponent taps out in submission in the last round. Blade had been crushing him down with a knee to his back, and had his arm coiled around the other fighter’s throat. The opponent’s face looked sickeningly purple before he forfeited.

While Dan Heng’s much calmer than before, he’s still ridiculously turned on by the whole fight. Even when not being pushed, Blade is overwhelming to behold. He’s a titan raining down destruction on anyone in his path. 

And now this titan holds Dan Heng’s touch on his body. The dragon, almost complete, is already magnificent. It unravels across his right side and surges. With any movement the dragon makes itself known, whether it’s by tail or jaws. It is perfect on him, it is made for him, and now Dan Heng has a piece of himself forever on him.

That thought alone stokes something deep inside his chest - something he’s never felt, and can’t identify. Something burning, something heavy, something primal. Ren may have ruined him, but at least in turn, he’s left some kind of mark on him, forever.

Blade leaves the cage, a towel around his neck and his manager by his side. Last time he moved backstage directly from the ring, but this time is different.

Blade holds each end of the towel around his neck and turns. He’s drenched in sweat. He scans through the crowd until he finds him. Blade grins brazenly.

“Still miserable?” Dan Heng can barely hear him over the sound of the crowd, but his taunting shout is unmistakable. 

There’s a surge of adrenaline that pulses through his stomach, and it embarrasses him. He flips Ren the bird.

Ren laughs before following his manager to the back, leaving Dan Heng to stare into the eyes of his dragon.

“March, I don’t think we should be doing this.” His friend ignores him and keeps pulling him by the arm through the corridor.

“Don’t be so rude, Dan Heng!” She admonishes. “We have to say hi. We got special tickets!”

March pauses and speaks to an official. She happily flashes her pass that they’d been given when they arrived.

“Locker room’s this way.” She drags him again. There really isn’t a point in resisting anymore, he should just comply and make this quick.

They pull up to the locker room, and there’s a short girl with a silver ponytail leaning against the wall and blowing bubblegum. She looks at them blankly, sizing them up, and pops her bubble.

“In there.” She turns back to her phone and promptly ignores them. Dan Heng stares in confusion as March drags him into the room.

“Hi Blade!” She greets enthusiastically as soon as she opens the door.

Blade seems to get a fright by March’s loud entrance, looking at her with alarm. Trust Ren to get a fright from a pink-haired girl rather than bodily harm.

There are three people in the room other than Blade; the woman who was likely his manager, and two officials. The one official is dabbing a bloody rag on Blade’s eyebrow while he sits on a bench.

“Oh, cute.” The woman purrs melodically. “Bladie, who are these new friends of yours?”

Dan Heng realises that this is probably his manager Kafka, Blade’s mentioned her name before. She’s objectively undeniably beautiful, and is out of place in this rough environment; with her pressed black pencil skirt, pristine white button-up, and black capelet. She has an intensity to her, especially in her pale eyes, that makes you focus only on her.

Now that he’s met her, Dan Heng feels whispers of jealousy. Surely, they’ve fucked - two beautiful people like this. Maybe they’re still fucking.

“I’m March, and this is Dan Heng.” March is completely unphased and continues brightly. “We came to watch - Blade you were awesome!” Ren still seems slightly overwhelmed. His medic has begun changing his hand wrappings.

Kafka looks them both over, her attention lingering on Dan Heng for longer than he likes - he feels akin to livestock at an auction. She crosses her arms and smiles serenely.

“What a cute couple.” Kafka spares a glance at Ren next to her. 

“Kafka.” His voice is rough as he warns her. His dark hair hangs to cover most of his face, but his cheeks seem unusually pink.

“Oh no! Dan Heng and I are only friends.” March looks to Dan Heng for confirmation, so he awkwardly nods in support. This whole interaction couldn’t get more excruciating. “Besides, Dan Heng is spoken for.”

Oh, yes it could. 

He looks at March with alarm, desperately sending her telepathy of shut the fuck up. March only shoots a look back over her shoulder; she has the most pleased expression he’s ever seen.

“Oh is he?” Both of them snap their attention towards Ren who’s still hunched on the bench. There’s a silent, suffocating air about him, exacerbated by his state of undress and bricked-out physique.

Ren pays no mind to the medic who’s exposing his bloodied knuckles from his old wraps soaked in red spots and grime.

There’s a look exchanged between March and Ren that Dan Heng can’t see, but March is oozing deviancy.

“Tell me about them.” Blade leans his cheek on his freshly wrapped knuckles. There’s a slow, amused smile spreading across his face. Ren’s eyes slide over to Dan Heng’s briefly, there’s a wicked sparkle in the gold.

Dan Heng is completely frozen in time. He has no strategy on how to interrupt this catastrophe unfolding in front of him. 

“Oh gosh, well you know!” The expression on March’s face can only be likened to that meme Stelle sends him constantly; a smug cat held at knifepoint. “Dan Heng is very private, so I shouldn’t.” Her giggle tinkles behind her hand.

That is the last straw - Dan Heng grabs March’s elbow, hard enough to bruise, and begins to pull her back.

“Okay, we’ve said hi.” March almost trips over her own feet. “Great match Blade. Have a good evening.” His face is on fire; he can even hear Kafka having a laugh at his expense.

Dan Heng yanks March out of the room and closes the door. If looks could kill, March would be six feet deep. 

“Oh, don’t give me that Dan Heng,” March calmly brushes him off. “I didn’t say anything.” 

The silver-haired girl is watching the spectacle from down the hall, slowly blowing another bubble.

“You didn’t say anything?” Dan Heng repeats icily. Maybe this is the day he may resort to physical violence. “You said far too much!”

“Pfft!” March rests the back of her head against her hands; she’s pleased as punch. “Someone has to move things along.”

“I am not talking to you for a month,” Dan Heng seethes. His privacy has been stomped on, his weakness exposed to everyone, and the wound cuts deep. He stalks off, leaving her behind. Stelle can come and fetch her.

“Dan Heng? Dan Heng! Hey, hold on!”

Session 7

Dan Heng has been in the worst mood for days. 

His thesis revisions are piling up and the due date is just around the corner; the weather is becoming colder and he hates it; he’s booked back-to-back for the next two weeks at the shop; March won’t stop blowing up his phone; and his biggest problem is that he is still so horny and pent up that he actually screamed into his pillow this morning to try to relieve it, like some stupid movie teenager.

The utter embarrassment of being so affected and still unable to control his own body has his pride in shambles, leading his usual snark to its highest levels yet. 

The fact that the box with his new giant pink dildo is still sitting in the corner of his room, unopened, taunts him every morning and every night. He refuses to use it. Buying it was an extreme lapse in judgement. He will force control on himself - because if he loses that, well what will be left of the Dan Heng he knows? 

That box is the proverbial elephant in his room, so he can’t even sleep in peace.

And to add to the ever-mounting tide of stress, it’s Ren’s final session today. He has to sit through an hour of crippling embarrassment because of the locker room incident, as well as stare at the body and face of a man that’s been the cause of all of his recent erections and confusion. 

“You’re unusually docile today.” Fuck Ren, and fuck his voice. Dan Heng looks away from his work on Ren’s arm - the tail is coming along well - and makes sure his glare is one of his best.

“I’m working,” he grits out. The buzzing of the tattoo iron is adding to his nerves. Can this session be over yet?

“You’ve always been working,” Ren rebuts. He’s leaning against the recline of the chair with his left arm behind his head. It perfectly highlights the sculpt of his muscles as well as his underarm hair. Dan Heng is this close to just pushing him off the chair and telling him to come back next week. 

“But now you’re quiet as a kitten.” It’s a deliberate taunt because he’s grinning at the ceiling.

Dan Heng breathes in as deeply as he can to suppress the boiling mess of his emotions. It doesn’t help, he can still feel it bubbling up and ready to overflow. He’s genuinely afraid of how much he’s changed.

He sits back and stops the iron, putting it on the trolley next to him. He immediately takes off his glasses and pushes his right hand into his eyes, trying his best to calm down before something happens - maybe he really will shove Ren to the floor. 

“I’m stressed.” That’s all he says, pushing his fingers into his eyes until he sees blue. He doesn’t usually admit his feelings, so this is just another hole in the boat of his psyche.

He expects another jab from Ren, something to push him more. But instead, nothing comes, except the creak of a chair and a body moving. Dan Heng removes his hand and adjusts to the light to see Blade sitting up and facing him properly - tattooed arm pointed to the wall. He even moved a leg so that his thighs now caged Dan Heng in.

Dan Heng might have expected this as a blatant flirt or taunt, but the unusual look on Ren’s face says otherwise; sincere, somewhat concerned. Ren hunches slightly to meet his eyes.

“Is there someone I can beat up for you?” He asks quietly. It's clearly a joke, but Ren’s voice isn’t amused but soft. Maybe a little helpless. Dan Heng has never seen this expression before - not directed at him. 

He shakes his head in answer - how does he tell him, yeah, please beat yourself up - and looks away. Ren’s gaze is too heavy for him right now.

Then Ren’s hand is on his jaw, moving his face back to his, thumb brushing against his cheekbone. A shock travels up Dan Heng’s spine and his thoughts flatline.

He’s overwhelmed with uncertainties. How does he rationalise this, how should he interpret this, how does he navigate this, how does he respond to this? These new questions pile on top of the squirming stress in his stomach and it’s just too much. He can’t hold everything in any longer - he’s breaking down, the walls of himself collapsing.

He’s so tired.

Emptiness echoes in his chest, and Dan Heng knows that the pride he cares so much about has crumbled to nothing. He’s lost the reins that used to guide him and bring him comfort. He’s failed in the fight of trying to preserve who he thought himself to be. A feeling of loss swirls.

All the tension in his body pushes the breath out of him.

“I’m just not good at handling my feelings.” Dan Heng wants to look away from Ren’s eyes, but he tries to be brave. He smiles wistfully - Ren’s face remains still - and he feels so pathetic.

He can’t be brave after all, and he tries to avoid his gaze. Ren stops him immediately.

Ren’s thumb feels rough against his cheekbone, and his calloused fingers press harder into his jaw. Ren’s red eyes lock him in. Dan Heng swallows hard; he’s at his mercy. 

“Neither am I,” and that’s all Ren says. His jaw is tense - maybe from all the things he’s also not saying.

Heat begins crawling its way along Dan Heng’s spine and up his neck, just like it always does when Ren so much as looks at him or touches any part of him. The thrumming of arousal shames him. He can’t even hold a conversation properly anymore. It flares his frustration into a wildfire.

“No, it’s different,” he snaps. Dan Heng brings his hands to Ren’s wrist, “I can’t handle this anymore,” and he tries to pull Ren’s hand from his face. “Unlike you,” he hisses, “I’m so frustrated by you that I am exhausted -”

“Unlike me? I’ve jerked off to you until my cock was sore.” 

Dan Heng accidentally bites his tongue. He looks at Ren like a deer, his flush bursting into his face. 

Ren said those vulgar words so plainly. They bounce around Dan Heng’s head like a DVD logo on a screen. Thoughts flood in, and alongside every thought he's ever had about Ren they dog pile together - it’s a mess of arousal, confusion, irritation, shame, resistance, and want.

All he can recover from the mess is that Ren wants him, that he can’t handle the knowledge of Ren jerking off, and that Dan Heng’s dick is stiffening. He’s mortified. 

And so turned on it’s stupid.

At this point, Ren is grinning at him - clearly enjoying his flustered reaction. Dang Heng begins smacking at Ren’s arms, chest, and whatever he can reach.

“I hate guys like you,” Dan Heng hisses, but his words fall flat when he trembles. His face is on fire. 

Unaffected, Ren moves Dan Heng’s jaw closer, only a breath away.

“I don’t know,” he makes a show of looking down Dan Heng’s body to his lap and back up again, and then growls, “looks like you love it.” 

Ren pulls him in and the next thing Dang Heng knows is that he’s almost climbing onto Ren and trying to sit on his solid thigh. Dan Heng mouths at Ren’s lips, and in turn, Ren’s hand grabs at the back of his neck and he licks into his mouth. Dan Heng gasps between the presses of their lips like Ren is the only oxygen in the room. 

“Ah,” he’s moaning, shit. Ren’s teeth scrape against his jaw before he’s at his throat and Dan Heng moans harder. Dan Heng forces Ren up to his lips again and desperately presses in, the heat and wet of their tongues sliding together pushes him for more. 

“Ren.” Dan Heng can’t recognise his own voice, it’s so wanton.

Ren’s massive hand pushes into his back, and Dan Heng’s dick pulses at it. His cardigan is pulled down, violently, from the nape of the neck. It scrapes over his shoulders and painfully catches on his inner elbows. The force of it yanks Dan Heng back and away, but Ren’s other hand comes to his lower back and pushes in, keeping Dan Heng’s hips in place on his thigh. Dang Heng can’t stop another moan from being stripped down.

Ren’s mouth is at his throat again and Dan Heng pants, his hands gripping into Ren’s shirt for balance as he wobbles on Ren’s knee. A dam inside of him has burst and he can’t stop, and god, he’s never going to be able to stop after this is he?

His sane thoughts rush into that precious mental box he loved so much, and the lid snaps closed.

He tries to pull forward, “Ren, oh,” he gasps, grinding against Ren’s knee because he’s wanted to for so long, but he’s off balance. The only thing keeping him from falling is Ren’s force on his hips. 

He dips his chin in search of Ren and finds his mouth again. Dan Heng whimpers into his tongue when he feels teeth. He’s overcome with the want of being devoured.

Without warning Ren stands, hefting him up like he’s nothing, and Dan Heng would have fallen onto his ass if Ren's hands weren’t on him. Dan Heng’s feet make contact with the ground and he’s stretched up, neck aching, to reach Ren. The hand at the back of his neck is almost bruising, supporting it so they don’t break contact, even for a moment.

Unlike Dan Heng, Ren says no words, but the noises he makes - the grunts and growls - between each exchange of shared breath and lips has Dan Heng’s blood boiling. 

Ren’s hand is on his back again - touching his bare skin - and pinning Dan Heng to his chest. It’s as hard as being pushed into a wall and it matches every one of Dan Heng’s fantasies.

He can’t think past his own arousal; the hot skin against him, Ren biting his lip, everything so solid around him. He gives in helplessly and grinds up against Ren’s thigh, looking for any relief.

Due to his delirium - as Ren licks at his pulse and Dan Heng pants helplessly - it takes a moment before he recognises the hot, hard pressure against his belly. And it takes him another before he knows it’s Ren’s erection. 

A bolt of lust spikes into his stomach.

Dan Heng no longer remembers why he had resisted to begin with. He groans needily into Ren’s neck. The feel of Ren’s arousal raises his own to a level that he’s never felt before, not even in any of his self-indulgent sessions.

Dan Heng’s hands are already at Blade’s hips and frantically working the button and zip of his jeans. The hand at the back of his head grips his hair - Dan Heng whimpers. 

“That’s it,” Ren pants against his cheek. Dan Heng’s hands fumble desperately.

He gets past the barriers with enough attempts, and driven by pure need, pushes his hand past clothing and hair and onto Ren’s bare cock. Dan Heng moans, but no sound comes out. 

It’s so hot, and his hand doesn’t even come close to feeling everything. He can only grab at the root and feel it pulse in his hand. He’s becoming delirious and words spill out between them.

“Ren - ah - I want it. ” 

There’s a growl against his ear, rumbling into his chest, and then he’s pulled back by the nape. The air is knocked out of him when he makes contact with the chair, landing chest first. There’s a loud metallic clang as his trolley is knocked. Dan Heng can barely hear it, because Ren is bearing down on him, hands pinning his, and bending him over the chair. Ren pushes up against his ass and the hard pressure of his cock is unmistakable.

“Fuck.” It’s Ren swearing, but Dan Heng can’t hear, eyes wide and glazed over. The loss of breath from being knocked, and the pressure on Ren’s hands holding him down, trapping him, has flipped an unknown switch inside him.

Ren looms over his back, pressing him down more, and his hair falls in front of Dan Heng’s face. Dan Heng is shaking like a leaf, and he raises his ass. Ren bites his nape. Dan Heng gasps into the cushion, back bowing and struggling against Ren’s hands.

“Ren,” he’s whining. Ren is swearing again into his neck. He needs it.

“Yeah,” Ren pulls back only a bit and Dan Heng’s shirt is shoved up to his ribcage. His cardigan drapes over part of his back, still stuck on his arms. “You’ll get it”. One of Ren’s hands releases his and then there’s a hard yank on Dan Heng’s hips as his pants are pulled down in one go. 

The embarrassment of the exposure burns through Dan Heng’s veins and boils into further arousal. The heat and pressure against his ass have him heaving. Only one of Ren’s hands remains on him as he moves off of his back. Dan Heng reaches back blindly to touch any part of Ren he can. 

There’s a clang from next to him - Ren hitting something on the trolley - and Dan Heng reaches something - his forearm. He holds it just in time to feel the fingers of that same arm push between the cheeks of his ass and smear something from top to bottom. 

Dan Heng cries at that, legs buckling and raising his hips higher, presenting himself like a dog in heat. Ren’s fingers are rough, and big, and scrape over the most untouched parts of him just like he imagined. Dan Heng pushes back desperately into his huge hand. His wrist hurts from holding onto Ren’s arm. He feels one of those rough fingers breach him and hook.

“ Ah... fuck...” Dan Heng presses his forehead into the chair. 

It stings but he’s gripping around Ren’s finger already. Everything is on fire between his legs. 

“Ren,” he’s huffing, and gripping harder onto Ren’s arm. He doesn’t have any idea what else is going on around him. There’s a deep, empty ache inside of him. “I need it, hurry. ”

There’s another hooking motion against his walls and Dan Heng wails and knees the chair frame. Blade’s other hand comes to rest on top of his ass. It’s so hot.

“I would rip you open,” Ren’s voice is rough as gravel and grates down Dan Heng’s spine. 

Dan Heng bucks into him again and hears another pained breath from behind him. Ren’s fingers scrape out of his hole and Dan Heng tries to move with it, crying helplessly when there’s nothing left. 

“Ren, come on -” There’s another clang, and then Ren’s hand is between his soft inner thighs, rubbing something into his skin. The smell hits him first - vaseline, from his trolley, used for post-care. 

“Hold still.”

Ren’s hand continues to move between his legs, brushing up against his balls on every upstroke. It burns so much pleasure through him that it’s a miracle Dan Heng can think enough to count. He counts three hands - one between his legs, one pinning down his hand, and another hot on top of his ass.

His hips buck pathetically when he realises that the large hand on his ass isn’t a hand. It’s Ren’s dick. 

He has no concept of anything other than the heat of it and the stickiness between his thighs. He jerks his hips back into Ren again, and this time he knows that it’s Ren’s cock pressing between his cheeks and tapping his lower back. The throbbing inside of him worsens. Jesus, he’s going to faint.

“Ren - fuck -” He lets go of Ren’s wrist and tries to reach back to guide his cock in. Ren’s hand immediately crushes his back next to his head. He begins whining in complaint but catches when Ren’s voice is hot in his ear.

“Squeeze those pretty legs together for me.” 

A current zaps straight to his knees and he obeys without thought. Ren’s hand lifts off his, but Dan Heng keeps them clawed into the seat. The pulsing heat on top of him slides - Dan Heng shakes - and then it pushes between his thighs.

Dan Heng immediately presses back into Ren and his cock slides deeper through, pulling at his skin. He can’t breathe. He can feel it pushed up against his own cock, dwarfing it in size. He can only imagine it going inside of him.

“Fuck,” Ren growls.

His hands clamp down around the small of his waist, almost encircling it, and Dan Heng can’t stop from squeezing tighter around them both. Ren thrusts in, Dan Heng’s hipbones smack into the edge of the chair, and he grinds back. He moans helplessly and Ren’s fingers dig in harder. 

It almost feels like he’s getting fucked for real. Ren’s thrusts are strong and his cock scrapes against every part it reaches. Dan Heng’s own is already leaking against his belly and his stomach is squeezing so tight it hurts. 

Ren pulls his hips back and Dan Heng skids further down the chair. His hips are held helplessly in the free air as his thighs are fucked. His arms shake as he tries to push up onto them but he’s left on his forearms. He gasps every time Ren slams home. His body shakes from the force of it and pleasure surges to the tips of his fingers.

He’s going to come from this. 

“More - ah!” he moans between pants. He reaches below and grips their cocks. His hand can barely fit around them both. “God.” Ren’s dick is wet and throbbing against his. He squeezes them together. Dan Heng’s forehead drops to the mattress. He’s only a few strokes in before Ren’s hand joins his.

“Shit.” Dan Heng’s knees shake. 

Ren’s fingers are rough as he presses them together. It’s so slick, fluids and jelly mixing, and it makes the most obscene noise to the backdrop of their grunting and panting. 

Whenever Ren pulls Dan Heng’s hips back he scrapes against his balls, and when he thrusts forward their cocks jam into his pelvis. Soon Dan Heng’s stomach starts coiling.

His legs begin to tremble and Ren’s hand moves faster on them, as if he knows how close he is. Dan Heng grips the seat, trying to hold on as the pressure rises inside him. Ren releases a hand from his waist and then slides it under Dan Heng’s chest. His hand settles around his throat and Dan Heng’s dick jerks in response. 

Ren’s dark hair curtains around their faces as he descends. His grip on his neck coaxes Dan Heng to meet his lips again. Dan Heng moans into his mouth instead. 

The tide swells and his back bows. Tension grips every muscle. His hand releases them, but Ren’s doesn’t stop. He claws into the back of Ren’s thigh instead. Ren grinds into his ass in turn and the bowstring inside of him snaps. 

Ren’s licking into Dan Heng’s mouth when he comes.

Every part of him tenses as the tidal wave of his orgasm surges through him. The pleasure drowns him - every nerve sparking and firing, his muscles cramping. There’s only blood in his ears, fire below his waist and Ren’s heat all around him. He can only cry into Ren’s mouth as he’s consumed by it.

His orgasm continues to crest and crash for what feels like an eternity until his body returns to him, leaving him sweating and shaking all over. He jolts in waves of oversensitivity every time Ren’s thumb meets the head of his cock as he milks him dry.

“What a sight,” Ren purrs. His voice leaves goosebumps behind and Dan Heng struggles to breathe.

His lungs burn. His neck aches. There’s cum tickling down his thighs. His legs have given out, and the hands on his hips are the only thing keeping him from sliding to the floor.

That was the best orgasm he’s ever had, and they didn’t even fuck.

The sheer absurdity of that ignites more fire under him, something akin to irritation, and more arousal if that were possible. He should be emptied of that by now but instead, it keeps humming under his skin. 

Ren nips at his nape again and Dan Heng preens under the attention. Now that he has clarity, he notices the scorching, insistent pulse of Ren’s cock between his legs. He’s still hard. Dan Heng squeezes again involuntarily and his chafed thighs sting in response.

Why is this turning him on again? This is ridiculous.

Dan Heng attempts to look over his shoulder. Ren’s right there, his hair sticking to his face and shoulders. He looks devastating and he can’t stop himself.

“Let me suck you off.” Ren’s eyes flash and his grip on Dan Heng’s hips tighten. Ren scrapes his teeth along his jaw.

“You sure?” He murmurs. His tongue joins his teeth. “You seem a bit spent, kitten.” 

Dan Heng weakly stomps on Ren’s foot and glares at him. Ren only laughs in return. The sound vibrates into Dan Heng’s chest.

“If you call me that again, I won’t.” Ren makes a lazy show of pretending to zip his lips. His smirk doesn’t leave him. “Now give me space.” 

He hears another chuckle and then Blade lifts off his back. The drag of his cock as he leaves against Dan Heng’s raw thighs has him sucking in air. He feels overwhelmingly cold.

At least now he’ll actually get to see Ren’s dick. And maybe then, once the mystery is gone, this ridiculous feral lust can die down.

Dan Heng pushes himself up. His clothes are a wreck. His damned cardigan is still on his elbows and hanging over his ass. There’s cum streaking his thighs. He’ll have to deal with this after.

He turns around to find Ren standing behind him. He’s holding Dan Heng’s large-frame glasses, he must have picked it up from the trolley. Dan Heng raises his eyebrows at it. Blade’s smile is wicked.

“Fulfilling a fantasy,” he explains. 

Dan Heng was going to scoff and decline, but after hearing that he doesn’t. Heat prickles hotter under his skin at the thought that Ren had been thinking about this in some way. 

He does end up scoffing, but he accepts the glasses. Dan Heng slides them on and Ren’s eyes immediately darken. That fact pleases him as he drops to his knees in front of Ren’s hips.

He stares.

What the fuck?

Dan Heng continues to stare as he’s faced with the biggest dick he’s ever seen. Apparently, these did exist in real life and not just overdone porn. He assumed Ren was big, considering what he’d felt both now and weeks ago, but this is ridiculous. Ren is almost double what Dan Heng has and his size was decent.

“Meet your expectations?” Ren taunts. Dan Heng looks up at Ren incredulously. 

He feels both irrationally mad and, shamefully, aroused at this discovery. Which was crazy in and of itself because unreasonably big cocks has never been of interest to him before.

“Are you a horse?” 

“Hey, you’re going to hurt my feelings.” Blade’s head tips to the side and his smirk is languid. 

However, the puffing of his breath and the angry red of his cock gives away that he’s not as relaxed as he’s pretending. 

Ren’s hand encloses around the base of his cock. That is a sight Dan Heng will not soon forget. Ren guides the shiny head closer to his parted lips.

“Last chance.” His voice is rough and Dan Heng’s heart thumps. 

He’s not going to back down now.

Dan Heng makes sure to meet Ren’s eyes and hold his gaze when wraps his delicate fingers around his cock - trying not to think about how it takes up his whole fist - and licks a fat stripe from base to tip. He’s rewarded with a growl and a hand firm at the back of his neck. 

He turns his attention properly to the appendage in front of him and marvels. He can see it throbbing, as well as feel it in his hand. It curves up slightly from a base of well-groomed hair, the tip is drooling slowly and he can see the lines of veins under the flush of red. His mouth waters involuntarily.

He licks another stripe followed by pushing Ren’s cock up and against his pelvis and licking again. The taste leaves something to be desired - both salty, bitter and waxy thanks to the Vaseline - but it's not intolerable.

He hasn’t blown many guys - and certainly not one of this size - but Dan Heng prides himself on technique. He also has the beneficial skill of not possessing a gag reflex. He’s determined to break Ren down just like he’s been broken.

Dan Heng breathes hotly over it, before easing the head between his lips. Immediately Ren’s hand grabs at the hair at the base of his skull. Dan Heng can’t stop the resulting shudder. Why does he like that so much?  

He sucks slowly before easing more past his lips. He moves his tongue the best he can with the tight fit and gives special attention to the head of his cock. 

Ren groans above him and his hand knots in the bottom of his own shirt, pulling it up to his ribs, so he can get a better view of Dan Heng. It also gives Dan Heng the perfect view of his muscled body and pleasured face. 

Fuck, it’s hot. Dan Heng’s legs squeeze together. He wills his dick to stay down.

Dan Heng sensually eases his free hand up Ren’s thigh and onto the tight flesh between the valley of his hips, while bobbing his head and sliding more of the shaft in. It hits the back of his throat. There’s still more and Dan Heng is determined.

He makes sure his jaw is loose and then pushes himself forward slowly while slightly tipping his head. He can feel Ren shudder and the hand in his hair grips harder. Dan Heng feels heat in his veins. His mind gets foggy.

Dan Heng breathes in through his nose and then pushes further, he can feel Ren scrape his throat, somewhere where nothing ever has before. There’s drool at the corner of his lips and running to his chin. Dan Heng bobs his head again and pushes ahead. 

It hits him somewhere behind his Adam's apple and suddenly his body reacts. His throat constricts and he chokes. It burns. 

Dan Heng pulls off quickly, pushing away from Ren’s hips, and hacks. His throat is tightly constricted and he wheezes in between each cough as he tries to suck in air. Tears are hot in his eyes. His throat continues to burn, but now so do his cheeks. This is hardly sexy.

Ren’s fingers lift Dan Heng’s chin to meet his eyes. Dan Heng feels embarrassment flush up his neck. Gravity pulls tears down his cheeks while he stabilises his breathing. His glasses are skewed.

“Don’t kill yourself.” Ren is panting and it makes his chest block half of his face from Dan Heng’s view. It’s strange how he’s thinking more about how Ren’s hair is sticking to his neck than having just choked.

Ren grounds him by carefully adjusting his glasses with his thumb before he rests it below his cheek. 

The air feels heavy. Ren seems like a wild cat on a leash, his pupils are blown and his muscles are tensed up. Ren’s clearly restraining himself and seems a hair’s breadth away from overpowering him and taking his pleasure no matter what the cost.

Something about that excites Dan Heng in ways that it definitely shouldn’t. If that happened he might actually die considering the weapon between Ren’s legs.

Ren’s thumb brushes the corner of his lips - Dan Heng’s arousal piques in interest - and slips into his mouth. Dan Heng rubs his tongue at the digit and then Ren presses it down until Dan Heng presents his mouth to him. He’s hyper-aware of the mess of fluids dripping down his chin, the pressure of Ren’s thumb, and the cooling cum on his legs. Dan Heng moans despite himself. 

Ren’s eyes are liquid - his breathing seemingly faster. He strokes his thumb down the velvet of Dan Heng’s tongue and Dan Heng can’t help but whimper.

“Pretty. ” He’s been wanting to hear that again so desperately.

Dan Heng grasps hold of the back of Ren’s thighs and brings them closer. They’re hard with tension. He’s not going to give up, and he isn’t going to give Ren the chance to offer. He can’t bear to admit aloud that this isn’t just about Ren. He wants to blow him. He wants to see Ren come and he doesn’t care where he does it.

Dan Heng lets go of one of Ren’s thighs to take hold of his cock again. Ren’s thumb is still holding his mouth open but he guides his cock into his mouth anyway. His jaw hurts from making room for both, but it’s worth it for the tremble in Ren’s legs.

“Fuck.” Ren’s thumb drags across his tongue and pops out of his mouth. A string of saliva drips from his finger and it makes Dan Heng feel hotter. 

He looks at Ren while sucking more deeper and delighting at the growl he hears. This time, Dan Heng tightens his fist near the bottom of his cock so he’s forced to stop when his lips meet his fingers. Like this Ren’s pressing into the back of his throat but can’t go further. 

Dan Heng recognises the heat that begins to filter up his body, only made hotter when Ren’s hand is at his nape again while his eyes are on him. The feeling of control is intoxicating.

Dan Heng sucks and curls his tongue and lets the saliva pool in his mouth. He begins to bob his head in earnest, allowing the head of Ren’s cock to catch on the inside of his lips before sliding it home to hit his soft palate.

Ren’s whole body shudders and Dan Heng sucks stronger, feeling it too. Ren is watching him, reverently pushing Dan Heng’s hair back to get a better view of the show. Dan Heng emboldened, almost slides off his cock before opening his mouth. He shows Ren the head of his cock presented on his wet tongue.

Ren fists his hair and his hips jerk forward. Dan Heng moans - the pain going straight down and between his legs - and immediately begins to suck his cock again, quicker than before. The sweat and scent of Ren’s body fog his mind. He doesn’t even think and pulls Ren’s thigh to encourage more.

Ren thrusts immediately and his cock bashes into the tender flesh of his throat. It hurts but the pain only feels good in Dan Heng’s addled mind. He moans as he rubs his tongue along the veins he feels. Ren doesn’t stop after that - he grips his hand over Dan Heng’s on his shaft and begins to fuck his mouth.

Dan Heng goes boneless and takes it. His brain tells him that the constant pounding at the back of his throat is amazing. If Ren wasn't the one holding his cock now, Dan Heng would be in danger, because he has a deep urge to have Ren down his throat again. He can’t think straight.

“Fuck, look at you.” Ren pulls at Dan Heng’s hair who only moans in return. “You like it that much, huh?” Dan Heng has never liked dirty talk - but once again not here, not Ren. 

Dan Heng looks up at Ren through his fogged-up glasses - tears crawl down his cheeks - and sucks hard. Ren’s hips stutter and he snarls. 

His cock feels even bigger in his mouth, if possible. Dan Heng’s jaw aches, and he isn’t sure if all the fluid in his mouth is just saliva or pre-cum. He knows that Ren is going to come - his grip on his hair remains, his thrusts are sharper, and Dan Heng can feel the pulsing and twitching of his cock on his tongue. 

Seeing Ren looking like that - looking at him like that - after he’s been wanting it for so long has melted him down to nothing but a shell. So when he feels Ren loosen his grip and pull away, Dan Heng resists and urges him back. He rubs his tongue the best he can around Ren’s cock to encourage him.

Both of Ren’s hands come to cradle his head. “You’re insane,” Ren laughs breathlessly. He relents and throws his head back. “God.”

It’s a small mercy that Dan Heng’s fist is still on Ren’s cock when he comes because his hips slam forward - so hard that Dan Heng’s teeth hurt his lips. However, he doesn’t register the pain, because instead there’s a warm, wet surge against the back of his throat and Ren shudders, moaning gutturally. 

Dan Heng responds with a whimper and eagerly sucks and twists his hand. He has never enjoyed giving blowjobs, and he’s never swallowed, and yet here he is - his throat coated in Ren’s cum and he’s hard - how ridiculous. 

Ren pumps into Dan Heng’s mouth languidly, riding out those molten waves of pleasure, and his cock jerks in his mouth with each wave. Dan Heng watches the display in a daze and his thighs squeeze together. 

After the fourth wash of bitter warmth against the back of his tongue, Dan Heng eases back slowly while sucking - delighting in the full body shudder and groan from Ren - until the head passes through his lips.

Dan Heng slides his hand along the shaft to ease the last of Ren’s orgasm. The glide is so easy from all the fluids that are now dripping from his lips. 

He’s startled when Ren’s cock kicks one last time and a streak of come paints his cheek and glasses. It seems he miscalculated.

“Oh,” Dan Heng murmurs, stunned. 

This was another first for him. What was the protocol for getting cum off your face?

“How rude of me.” Ren's voice is airy from how out of breath he is. 

His thumb swipes across Dan Heng’s cheek again and collects the sticky stripe. The way Ren’s eyes drink him in makes him feel so hot that, without thought, he takes hold of Ren’s hand and sucks his thumb clean. It’s bitter and salty, but it’s worth it for how Ren growls at him.

“Do you have a death wish?” Ren pushes Dan Heng’s hair back and he can’t help but bask in the attention. “Don’t tempt me.”

Dan Heng’s dick twitches in interest - there’s no point denying that he’s hard now. To think he’s not satisfied after everything that’s just happened. Dan Heng pushes out a laugh, his throat is still burning and his jaw hurts.

“How big are you anyway?” It’s absolutely absurd that he’s asking about Ren’s size after he almost choked to death on it, and not before.

“Something close to ten.” Dan Heng actually laughs in disbelief. 

That size is completely unethical, and Dan Heng knows he would probably injure himself if he let it anywhere near him again. But his brain doesn’t understand reason or safety, and he desperately wants it anyway.

There’s a knock on the door and Dan Heng almost falls over. 

Reality comes crashing back - there are people outside, he’s in his studio, during work - and he’s stripped down on the floor, covered in cum, and sporting an erection.

“Dan Heng, your next client is here.” It’s March. He prays to every god under the sun that he and Ren have been quiet enough.

“I’ll be ten minutes!” Dan Heng shouts back. His voice is hoarse and cracks. He puts a hand to his throat and his flush deepens.

“Pity.” Ren carefully tucks himself back in while exploring the sight at his feet. He pays special attention to in-between Dan Heng’s thighs. “Especially for you.”

Ren’s hands come to his upper-arms and he pulls Dan Heng up from the floor like he’s a ragdoll. Dan Heng sways when he’s on his feet, feeling light-headed.

“You...” Dan Heng points at him weakly, and tries to shrug his cardigan back on, “will help me.”

“Hmm?” Ren strokes his hand down Dan Heng’s neck, his eyes still dark with hunger. “I’ll take far more than ten minutes.”

Dan Heng’s face is on fire and he feels faint. No, resist the devil.

“With cleaning,” he stresses between pants. “The chair needs to be sanitised and there’s cum on the floor. And I,” Dan Heng removes his cum-spattered glasses, “need a moment.”

“Fine,” Ren sighs performatively. His lip quirks and then he presses a kiss into the juncture of Dan Heng’s neck, who shivers in response. “You owe me though.”

Considering his show of herculean restraint in not jumping Ren again, Dan Heng feels like he’s the one who’s owed.

The aftermath leaves Dan Heng in a daze.

What happened in that studio room is so monumental that everything being back to normal around him leaves him in stasis. He should be grateful he didn’t lose his job. Luckily no one heard them - or at least no one’s said anything - and they were able to clean up sufficiently. Dan Heng almost had to wipe down his entire body because of the state he was in.

The other appointments were pure hell. He sat there making small talk while knowing he’d just been railed against the chair his clients were sitting on.

The limbo until Ren’s next appointment is torture; even though it’s only a couple of days. Dan Heng had to schedule an emergency appointment for Ren to make up for his last one because they had been too busy doing each other to get his tattoo finished.

Dan Heng sighs into his pillow.

He really should just be patient and wait two days, it’s not that long, but he can’t stop his head from flooding. 

Ren implied a few things, but Dan Heng can’t help but wonder whether this is more than a one-time thing. The tension between them should be minimal now - they’ve found release in each other - so would Ren have a reason to pursue him? It’s going to be his last session - will he just leave him with a thanks for the blowjob - and find a new desperately horny man to fuck.

Dan Heng is usually good at waiting, but as usual with Ren, not this time. He wants some kind of resolution now, and Dan Heng has been lying to himself by assuming he was less tense than before. It’s far worse because now he’s had a taste and he’s desperate for the whole thing.

So, that leads Dan Heng to his first bad decision.

Now with first-hand knowledge, Dan Heng knows that his new dildo is too small to match Ren, in both aspects, and that’s absurd because how can 8 inches be too small?

He’s never used one before - he only has a small prostate stimulator in his drawer for when he feels like it, which is usually once or twice a year. It’s hard to imagine that this whole thing can fit inside of him, but other people manage, so he’ll prove that he can too.

In truth, ever since Ren fucked his thighs, he can’t stop remembering that deep ache he felt inside that hadn’t been satisfied.

Dan Heng psyches himself up, lays down a towel, and starts with lube. It’s been a while since he’s used lube, he forgot how cold and slimy it was. He starts with his fingers, something he knows. He’s already tense, which won’t do.

He closes his eyes and just feels the sensation. In a few minutes, he’s feeling comfortable and softer, his dick has even begun to wake up. It’s now or never.

Dan Heng pushes the lubed tip against his rim and immediately knows it’s not now. It stings and the dildo goes nowhere. Dan Heng huffs and focuses. He adds more lube and uses the head to start to tease himself open. 

It takes longer than he wants, but eventually, he feels how his body starts to give way with every testing push. If he commits, he can do it.

Dan Heng makes sure his posture is relaxed and he has the space to work. He keeps the small nudges going, then breathes in deeply, and pushes.

He isn’t ready - the tip slides inside and it burns, he should be looser. But despite the pain, the presence of something holding him open makes his breath rush out. 

He’s only ever been fucked once; it was in his teenage years and it was hugely underwhelming. So underwhelming in fact that he never bothered to do it again. However, this sensation certainly isn’t underwhelming, but he’s unsure if he likes it.

The worst part is over, so Dan Heng gingerly rests his feet on the bed with bent knees and lets the head of the dildo sit inside for a while. It still burns, but it will get better. He takes the chance to stroke himself, the tingles of pleasure offset the sting.

By the time he’s hard, the pain has ebbed to discomfort, and he lets his mind wander. He remembers how Ren had forced him down on the chair and it leads him to grab the silicone cock and tentatively push it further.

It moves in deeper with some resistance, and the sensation of it scraping against his walls is unusual but not unpleasant. He feels around to see how much of the dildo remains - it’s a lot. Ren’s already more than this whole thing, so he needs to go further. The sudden thought of Ren’s cock inside of him makes him squeeze down, and his gut tingles in response.

Encouraged, Dan Heng slowly pushes it further. He focuses on his breathing and keeps pressing forward. Even when he reaches the point where he feels like he should naturally stop, he keeps going. He keeps pushing until his stomach flips and he tenses up, unable to go further. 

He’s stunned. He’s never felt full like this. He’s panting and squirming, the feeling is so alien and somehow it’s both frightening - his body telling him to reject it - and satisfying. The sensation is so deep and alarming, it feels like if he moves too much it could punch a hole in his gut.

He inspects the dildo with his fingers and only a sliver remains outside. He can feel his rim stretched taut around the fake cock, and a surge of heat rushes into his belly.

Being able to touch where his body is accepting the fake cock makes it so easy to imagine that it isn’t fake, and it’s Ren doing it to him. He squeezes down, and the dildo is unyielding and hard, and this time it feels good.

His legs shiver, and he squeezes his cock harder. He tries to move the dildo in a thrusting motion but he’s quickly overwhelmed by the stimulation and unfamiliarity. Instead, he angles it around, trying to find his prostate, but is unsuccessful. He knows where it is, but he’s unable to manipulate this toy like he wants.

Moving it around is less rewarding than just squeezing around it, so instead he leaves it and returns to his fantasies.

Now when he strokes his dick, he imagines Ren again, how his thighs felt, and squeezing down on something makes the fantasy stronger. He can fool himself that it’s Ren inside of him. The more he clamps down on the silicone cock imagining Ren’s, the more pleasurable it becomes.

He’s in no mood to tease himself, now that he’s gotten a taste of this new gratification, and wants to know how hard he’ll come. He wraps his fingers around himself, remembers how it felt in Ren’s hand and throws his head back. Involuntarily his feet lift off the mattress as his hips tip back, and he fucks his fist. 

The hardness inside of him remains as he builds up his orgasm, and when he comes his body spasms against his will. There are cramps in his belly from squeezing down on the toy, but combined with the surge of ecstasy flowing through him, even that feels good.

Dan Heng goes limp and pants through the aftershocks. There’s cum on his belly for the second time that day. The aftershocks last longer and he twitches sporadically, around the toy and on the sheets.

This is the best masturbation has ever felt, but it still doesn’t compare to how he came when Ren did it. It’s disappointing that he couldn’t replicate it, but Dan Heng is hardly surprised.

He lies for a while just thinking, before he gently pries the silicone toy out. After his body releases it, a trail of lube oozes out sensually. He tries not to imagine it as something else - great, was he into that now too?

Whilst his body certainly feels better, his mind doesn’t. It continually taunts him with thoughts about Ren and reminds him that it may never materialise; it’s beating him down. 

Maybe it’s the sudden rush of endorphins giving him confidence, but he decides he can’t wait and he’s going to get closure right now.  

Dan Heng pulls up Ren’s number - he’s not even saved in his phone. Their chat history is pathetic, just confirmations for appointments, so what he’s about to do is surely to get a reaction.

His second, and by far worse, decision is to send a photo of his clearly used dildo against his bedspread to Ren. He adds a caption: would you say this is accurate? 

Now he just has to wait.

Session 8

Ren never replied.

What’s worse is that Dan Heng knows he saw it, because the bastard had left him on read since thirty minutes after he sent it. He’s had two days to reply in some way, and he hasn’t even bothered. Not even a no thanks.

Dan Heng has felt a lot of humiliation in the last couple of months, but the humiliation that burns through him now is excruciating. He isn’t the type of person to take a risk, but he has, and it’s crashed and burned in front of him.

He’s done - he can’t stand to put himself through this anymore. Even if Ren is, and could be, the only person he has ever been this sexually attracted to, he won’t allow himself to be strung along. Dan Heng has reclaimed some of his pride, even though it’s battered and bruised.

The only thing left between him and moving on is this final last hour.

Dan Heng prepares everything ahead of time so that as soon as Ren arrives he wastes no time. The sooner he finishes, the sooner Ren leaves.

He can hear March brightly greeting Ren in the hall. It’s time to face the music. He reminds himself: he’s done.

Ren arrives in his usual laid-back clothes, but this time something is very different about him: how he’s looking at Dan Heng. There’s no greeting, Ren just stares him down from the door with those vivid red eyes. To Dan Heng, it’s the eyes of Blade; something dark, menacing and unchained lingers in them.

“This,” Ren says lowly, his speech punctuated with each step forward, “ends today.” His words sound final as if he’s daring Dan Heng to disagree. He says nothing else and pulls off his shirt.

Dan Heng is thrown for a loop - he doesn’t know exactly what Ren means. Does he not want anything to do with him after today? Did the picture piss him off that much? Is he talking about his appointments? Strange phrasing if so. Is he talking about this weird tension that they have? How does he want it to end if yes? Dan Heng's brain is stuck at a crossing.

Even as Ren sits and presents his arm for Dan Heng to work on, his eyes hold the same intensity, and it makes something in Dan Heng’s gut tell him that maybe... he’s not as done as he thought.

“This is the final bit, right?” Ren’s words are clipped. He isn’t looking at him, but Dan Heng can still feel the weight.

“Yeah,” Dan Heng begins the highlighting of scales and tries to ignore the cold sweat on his neck, “last details and blending.”  

They sit in silence for a long while, with only the buzzing of the iron filling the room. He’s making progress quickly, but he’s very unsettled.

The atmosphere is choking - it has never felt quite like this before. Dan Heng started his day with such confidence in his intentions, but he’s already been derailed. He’s trying to fit together the puzzle pieces of what Ren meant but he can’t complete the picture.

It’s not like Dan Heng to stay quiet when he’s confused - he’s intellectual to a fault - so why can’t he summon himself to just ask Ren a question?

It dawns on him that he’s afraid of the answer.

Dan Heng’s heart squeezes at the knowledge. He rarely feels emotions intensely enough to have a physiological response, but now Ren can check another accomplishment off his list; he affects Dan Heng emotionally as well as sexually.

Dan Heng sighs in defeat. He’s too afraid to ask, so instead he entertains himself between ink wipes by studying Ren’s forearm. His hands catch Dan Heng’s attention.

Ren’s knuckles are red, and even purple in places. The ridges of the bones are skinned and raw. There’s chafing in the webbing between his fingers - perhaps from his wraps. The state of his hands is brutal.

“You had a match last night?” Dan Heng asks, breaking the heavy silence. He’s inking the fine details of scales on the edge of the dragon’s tail, while in thought. Ren’s hands aren’t cleanly wrapped like they usually would be post-beatdown. 

“No,” Ren’s voice is gruff from disuse. Dan Heng can feel a prickly shiver pass from his neck down his back. He manages to keep his hand level. “Training session.”

Dan Heng looks at his hands again, studying the colours. He can’t remember them looking this bad from training. His fists have only ever looked so roughed up after a match - is he lying? 

Maybe Ren catches him looking, but his fists clench and release, the knuckles being tested. There’s a light pop. 

“It broke,” he answers plainly.

Dan Heng looks away from his work - detailing the tufts on the tail-end - to meet Ren’s eyes in question, but he’s looking at the wall. “What broke?” Surely not his hand.

Ren cracks his knuckles again and Dan Heng can feel a dark twisting in his stomach at the sound. “My training bag. I broke it.”

“It what? ” Usually, Dan Heng is composed by default, but at this moment he’s baffled. He tries to imagine how a couple-hundred-kilo punching bag could break, and can’t. Aren’t those bags held up on chains? 

Ren meets his eyes, with no smile in sight. He isn’t joking.

Dan Heng huffs an amazed laugh and turns back to his work. He wipes the excess ink and blood from his lines, trying not to let his thoughts get stuck on what it would take to break a bag. 

“Pent up, much?” He jabs absentmindedly.

Only after he says it does it register that perhaps that wasn’t the best thing to say. He can now feel Ren’s stare burning through him. He steadies his hand, determined to remain oblivious to his slip of the tongue, but Ren ruins that.

“Well, a few nights ago,” Ren fucking growls, “I received something...” Dan Heng fumbles his iron “that pent me up,” and it clatters to the floor. The words linger between them, and Ren’s face is close enough that Dan Heng can feel the heat of his breath. “Had to vent somehow.”

In response, an ice-hot rush goes through his body and straight to his dick. Ren has him pinned with his gaze, while he’s frozen staring at the dragon's tail.

Fuck. Dan Heng’s arousal surges so quickly that he wants to cry. The only thing in his mind is Ren, looking at that photo, with his cock in hand. Red, pulsing, dripping, like it was two days ago when Dan Heng was on his fucking knees for it.

He can’t control it, he’s out of breath. His eyes meet Ren’s and it’s electric, Dan Heng’s body only responding more, like the traitor it is. Ren turns towards him and then he’s so close to Dang Heng that his chest - his face - blocks everything else from view.

Ren reaches up and brushes his thumb over his cheekbone, just like he did before he kissed him that first time. The touch is gentle, but his hand dwarfs his jaw, hot like molten lead. Dan Heng feels helpless as Ren’s thumb slowly trails down and catches on his lip. Dan Heng inhales unconsciously, feeling the phantom press of Ren’s thumb on his tongue, and Ren slides closer.

He speaks lowly by Dan Heng’s ear. "How about I give you what we both want, hmm?" His voice is thick, giving away that this isn’t a meaningless flirt. Ren still wants it as he does, and he intends to pursue it. Dan Heng can’t hold the shivers back anymore and his whole body trembles for Ren to see.

Ren grins - it’s feral, just like Blade in the cage - and his thumb strokes over his cheekbone again. His mouth is so close to his neck, and Dan Heng wants Ren to bite down. 

“Is that a yes?” He taunts, lips brushing against his skin.

Dan Heng is at his limit and can’t hold back the audible whimper. Ren’s hand rests on his thigh and clamps down suddenly. Dan Heng can’t think anymore - he wants those hands to crush him. There’s a hot wet flash against his pulse.

Dan Heng shoves Ren back, surprising them both, and gasps for breath. They stare at each other with matching shocked expressions.

He hastily grips Ren’s right shoulder and brings it back towards him again. He fumbles and picks up his iron off the floor, checking for damage. He’s trying so hard to control his breathing and arousal that he’s going over the periodic table in his head.

Ren grunts out of frustration, the sound akin to the chuff of a pacing tiger.

“Are -” he begins to speak. Dan Heng immediately holds up a finger, looking away from the dragon, and gives him the most pointed look he can muster. 

“I am going to finish this,” he promises. He knows that there is a flush running up his neck and to his cheeks. He wonders how authoritative he’s coming across. “And then we can go.” 

Dan Heng is not going to have a quick fumble in this office again - he wants it for real.  

There’s a moment before a rare pleased smile drifts onto Ren’s face. He straightens his back, making sure the whole arm and shoulder are in Dan Heng’s skilled hands, and chuckles to himself. Ren’s hand ends up back on Dan Heng’s knee and his knuckles are even redder than before. Ren could hold half his thigh if he tried, but he doesn’t. Just the tease of it is enough.

Dan Heng curses internally as he begins the last detailing again and tries his best to bargain with his dick to stay down for now.

This is surely the fastest he’s ever worked, and it’s a miracle that he’s staying accurate. Ren’s hand remains on his thigh throughout, and every so often he squeezes - as if to remind Dan Heng to hurry up; as if he needed the reminder.

Dan Heng’s heart is thundering when he knows he’s done. He immediately wipes down his work and grabs care supplies off his cart to wrap it. He’s fumbling with the plastic wrap when Ren’s hand slides further up his thigh - Dan Heng rips the plastic with his teeth, too impatient for scissors.

It’s one of the worst wrapping jobs he’s ever done, but he has more important things on his mind. It isn’t likely to last until the night anyway.

“It’s done.” Dan Heng immediately stands up and chucks his gloves onto the chair. He shivers all over when Ren’s hand comes to rest on his lower back; it’s big enough to fill the whole valley. Ren stands, and it feels as if he towers over him.

“I live downtown,” Ren suggests. He’s still without a shirt, and the entire expanse of his ridiculous chest and long hair is in Dan Heng’s face. He can’t handle the time it would take to get there.

“I live two blocks away,” Dan Heng counters - his stomach is squirming with adrenaline. He grabs his canvas bag and leaves everything else. He has no intention of coming back today - even though all of his instruments are out and lying everywhere.

“Lead the way then.” Ren urges him forward with the hand on his lower back, heavy with intent. It only briefly vanishes when Ren puts his clothes back on.

Dan Heng uses the last of his frayed restraint to keep his expression neutral and voice calm. 

“March.” The girl immediately looks up from her desk, seemingly shocked to be spoken to. “Cancel my last appointment, I’m not feeling well so I’m heading home.”

“Oh gosh,” she murmurs, looking concerned. “Alright. Do you need anything? I can come over -”

“It’s fine - “ He cuts March off, but feels bad by the disappointed concern on her face. It’s not like Dan Heng to skip work, and he’s been ignoring her for over a week. He gives her one of his rare smiles. “Ren is going to take me home. I’ll text if I need anything.” 

Well, he isn’t lying.

March seems content. “That’s nice of you, Blade -” she falters, “uh, Ren?” She looks quizzically at Dan Heng - he just nods. 

“No problem,” Blade’s fingers trail down further to the curve of Dan Heng’s ass. “It’s my pleasure.” A wave of arousal goes through Dan Heng, so strong he feels faint. 

“We’re going,” he asserts, already heading towards the door. 

“Okay, I’ll reschedule!” March chirps. He can feel Ren following behind him, his hand back to ghosting at his waist. “Remember to text!” 

Dang Heng hopes March didn’t see that, but at this point, he’s too far gone to care.

Even though his apartment is only two blocks away, it feels like the longest drive of Dan Heng’s life. It feels as if they’ve been building towards this for two months - of absolute torment for Dan Heng - and now that they’re at this point, every minute apart is torture.

They reach Dan Heng’s block but Ren still doesn’t say anything - in fact, now he’s stopped looking at him. He only dutifully follows Dan Heng inside and into the elevator.

Doubt is settling in Dan Heng’s stomach alongside the arousal and anticipation. Ren still continues to stare ahead, not even sparing him a glance. If it weren’t for the ghost of his hand near Dan Heng’s lower back, he may have mistaken Ren for a stranger.

While his blood is still running hot and his heart is beating a mile a minute, he’s worried that the same can’t be said for the man next to him. It’s more than possible that the passion has already died for him now that they aren’t in an illicit location. 

Dan Heng feels almost nauseous as he tries to contain the competing emotions of anticipation and disappointment, arousal and shame, dread and hope. He’s being pulled apart in two directions.

However, if he’d been aware enough to notice Ren’s jaw locked in tension and the veins popping out in his hands, Dan Heng wouldn’t have been so surprised when Ren rammed him into the wall once they stepped out of the elevator. He destroys all of Dan Heng’s concerns by kissing him right in the public corridor.

Dan Heng moans involuntarily, and Ren breathes it in between their tongues. Dan Heng scrabbles for purchase on Ren’s back to pull himself closer. Feeling the latent heat of Ren’s body has his own heating up immediately. Ren bites his lip and in return, Dan Heng fists the hair at the base of his neck.

Dan Heng’s melting - he’s going to end up a puddle on the hallway floor with his keys still in his hand.

“Four, Oh -” Dan Heng gasps in between each exchange of their lips. “Seven.” Ren sucks a bruise into his throat - Dan Heng knocks his head back into the wall - and then Ren’s hands are on his ass and lifting him. 

Ren picks him up so easily, like he’s a child, and holds Dan Heng’s weight against his chest. Dan Heng’s feet brush uselessly against the floor as Ren moves towards his apartment. Dan Heng can’t restrain his full body shudder, and now Ren will know how hard he is against his stomach.

“I deserve a fucking award for my patience,” Ren growls by his ear. Dan Heng can only pant heatedly in response; his mind is liquifying and sinking below. 

“I’ll give you one.” He grinds up against Ren’s hips, brandishing his keys between them. “Inside,” the words against Ren’s lips.

The wind squeezes out of Dan Heng as Ren presses him up against his front door, simultaneously pinning his shoulders and snatching the keys from him. 

Dan Heng’s legs are still tangled around Ren’s thighs as he holds Dan Heng up with one arm. Like this Dan Heng can feel solid, hot pressure against his belly and it’s unmistakable. The promise of it is enough for Dan Heng to claw at Ren’s shoulders.

Dan Heng tips back as the door gives way, but Ren stops him from falling. There’s a loud bang as it hits the wall. 

They manage to stumble inside before Dan Heng’s mind goes blank from Ren biting at his neck. His large, bruised hands slide under his shirt and sit directly against his skin. His touch leaves fire in its wake and Dan Heng pulls frantically at Ren’s shirt.

There’s another bang as Ren kicks the door closed behind them before they crash into the side of Dan Heng’s couch. Dan Heng yanks at Ren’s shirt until he complies and pulls it over his head, and god, his chest is on another level of arousing when it’s pressing against him, and Dan Heng can finally put his hands on him.

Ren’s flesh is hot and fatally solid under his fingertips, and Dan Heng’s already moaning when Ren presses harder against him and overpowers him. Dan Heng shakes in Ren’s hands as they skim up his back and along the curve of his ass under his clothes.

Dan Heng is so drowned in arousal that he only realises Ren is talking to him after he nips at his jaw. “Hey. I don’t have a condom on me.”

Dan Heng is already in too many pieces and desperate for Ren’s hands to go lower, so his decision is quick.

“Are you clean?” Dan Heng paws at Ren’s neck, trying to kiss him between words.

“Yeah.” Ren slides off Dan Heng’s jacket, before licking into his mouth again. Dan Heng whimpers around his tongue.

“Ah - me - too.” Dan Heng unbuttons his shirt, shivering at the sharp flash in Ren’s eyes as they explore his torso. 

Dan Heng makes a move for Ren’s dark-wash jeans before he’s stopped by two of Ren’s fingers pressing against his plush bottom lip. Unconsciously Dan Heng relents and allows the digits into his mouth. They rest on Dan Heng’s tongue, grounding him to keep his attention on Ren.

Ren’s crimson eyes are burning through his. “Last chance, kitten. ” Ren’s voice is heavy with simultaneous desire and restraint, and Dan Heng throbs at the sound of it. 

He answers by stroking his tongue along Ren’s fingers, holding his gaze, before sucking around them and fumbling with the edge of Ren’s pants.

“Fuck.” Ren pushes his fingers down hard on his tongue and Dan Heng moans, saliva quickly pooling in his mouth. He succeeds in tugging Ren’s jeans low on his hips. The rise of his cock is obvious and caught against the waistband, held down and straining to escape

Dan Heng doesn’t hold back in pushing his hand into Ren’s underwear and taking hold of it. Ren makes a noise in the back of his throat that has Dan Heng reeling, and Ren’s cock twitches in his hold. Dan Heng is light-headed, panting from arousal around the fingers still in his mouth, caressing the velvet of his tongue.

Dan Heng squeezes his fingers around Ren’s cock before tugging it free and stroking it from root to tip. It’s so hot in his hand, and so sizable that he can’t cover it with one hand. He releases a small sound in want.

Ren’s fingers scrape burning lines down Dan Heng’s shoulder blades while his other two press down harder in Dan Heng’s mouth. The downward pressure makes him relent to the temptation of looking down.

The sight of it, in Dan Heng’s hands, and pressed between their bodies does something to Dan Heng - it’s as if something breaks inside of him - and he whimpers. His face must be giving him away because Ren grips the back of his neck, hard, and he pulls his fingers free; they drip with a string of saliva.

“You want it that bad?” Ren’s voice is gravel against Dan Heng’s skin. 

His wet fingers shove down and push into the crevice of Dan Hen's ass. Dan Heng realises, as if it were a subconscious reflex, that he’s already nodding into Ren’s neck. He can’t stop himself.

“Please.”

That sets Ren off - the amber in his eyes flaring - and he thrusts two fingers past his rim. It burns immediately and Dan Heng responds with teeth in Ren’s neck. 

It hurts, but he can already feel beyond the burn. Ren’s fingers glide along his walls, and he pushes back into Ren’s hand despite the awkward angle. That deep ache returns in full force.

Ren must understand, or he’s impatient because, in the next moment, he forcibly turns Dan Heng and folds him over the arm of his couch. His chest is shoved down hard by Ren’s hands between his shoulder blades, just like he had been on his tattoo chair. Dan Heng can’t repress his reaction of gasping and shuddering.

“So, you do like it,” Ren taunts hotly against his neck. Instinctively Dan Heng surges with shame and tries to save his pride.

“No, I - ah!” Ren sucks a mark over his spine as his fingers push back inside. Dan Heng loses any semblance of words. Ren’s fingers are spreading him apart, to open him up for his cock, and the sudden anticipation helps to numb any pain.

Dan Heng’s pants are pulled down to his knees, and like this - his pelvis curved over the arm of the sofa - his hole stretching around Ren’s fingers is completely exposed to him. Dan Heng can feel a viscous trail of saliva dripping down to his sac.  

He presses his face into the cushion - he’s so humiliated, but that humiliation makes Dan Heng’s blood run hotter and his dick curve up to his stomach.

He’s delirious from sensation. Ren is fucking him open with his fingers while his other hand leisurely caresses his lower back. Ren’s fingers feel nothing like Dan Heng’s; they reach deeper, and it’s rougher and far better.

“This body,” Ren skims the lines from Dan Heng’s waist to his hip; the delicacy of his body is stark in contrast to Ren’s rough hands, “is obscene.” 

Despite fraying at the seams, Dan Heng huffs a broken laugh. Ren saying that is truly the pot calling the kettle black.

“You’re one - mmph -” Ren’s hand digs into the curve of his waist, “to talk - ha! ”

Ren’s fingers rub into his prostate and Dan Heng jolts hard, his legs snapping rigid and leaving his feet to slide against the floor. There’s no way he can put weight back on them as long as Ren hits that spot.

Ren’s hand comes to rest above Dan Heng’s head on the couch seat, and then his chin hooks over his shoulder. Ren watches in satisfaction as Dan Heng cries out at the press of a third finger.

“You’re taking it so well,” he purrs. 

Oh. Dan Heng instantly squeezes around Ren’s fingers and whimpers. The words scorch through him like wildfire and the ache deep inside of him worsens. He can almost hear the shattering sound of something else breaking inside of him.  

“Oh?” Ren’s teeth scrape along Dan Heng’s shoulder in a grin, clearly noticing Dan Heng’s response. Dan Heng breathes fitfully, trying his best to stay composed.

“Shut up,” is all he manages. His rim throbs around Ren’s fingers, both in pain and urgency. He sinks back to take in more, and in response, Ren pushes into his prostate again leaving Dan Heng writhing. The soft flesh of his thighs clasp around Ren’s length.

Dan Heng can feel in his bones that he’ll come like this. Deja vu assaults him, bringing him back to that office and how he came empty. Dan Heng summons all of his strength to attempt to push himself up onto his elbows.

“Not - hah,” Dan Heng pants, “like last time. Please.” He pushes his forehead into Ren’s cheek, his head still hooked over Dan Heng’s shoulder, pleading without words. He squeezes around Ren’s fingers.

“I think you’re misunderstanding something, Dan Heng.” Ren’s body creates a cage around Dan Heng, Ren’s long hair flowing across his back. Dan Heng shivers against Ren’s chest as he breathes into his neck. “You’re going to take my cock.” 

To prove a point Ren stretches his fingers apart until it stings anew, and Dan Heng is blindsided by lust, melting into nothing but desperation. “Now, where do you want it?”

“Bed.” Ren’s fingers slide out to the sound of Dan Heng’s whine. Dan Heng understands how stretched out he is now by how empty he feels. Ren lifts him by the chest to move him. 

Dan Heng’s attention is captured by Ren’s face up close - sharp jaw, high nose, dark features. He never noticed how beautiful Ren is behind all the sex appeal. Dan Heng can’t resist pressing kisses into Ren’s neck, trailing upwards to the corner of his mouth, until he’s dropped onto his mattress. 

Immediately Dan Heng squirms to his bedside table to get the lube. By the time he secures it Ren is yanking off the remainder of Dan Heng’s clothes which are still stuck around his legs. The action shifts him further down the bed.

Dan Heng was going to snap at Ren, but instead, he is rendered speechless at the sight of Ren kneeling at the foot of his bed, completely bare. 

He’s seen the majority of Ren’s body at different times, but all of it at once is overwhelming. The spread of his shoulders lies against the backdrop of his dark hair. The sheer size of his arms and thighs now reminds Dan Heng of what he’s physically capable of, while the huge cock curling up from Ren’s pelvis promises even more than that. 

Dan Heng can’t believe he tried to swallow that.

Ren moves up to him, his muscular thighs bracketing Dan Heng’s knees. It seems that Dan Heng isn’t alone in admiring his partner; Ren’s crimson eyes burn trails along Dan Heng’s chest, waist, and lower, drinking in all the svelte lines and pale skin below him. Dan Heng knows his cock is twitching pathetically in response, but he can’t handle how Ren looks at him like he’s about to devour him. 

And Dan Heng desperately wants to be.

Dan Heng pushes the bottle of lube into Ren’s hand and, ignoring his inhibitions, lifts his legs until his thighs rest atop Ren’s larger ones.

“Hurry,” he huffs, doing his best to keep his cool - which is ridiculous because he’s running so hot he might burst into flames soon.

Dan Heng watches Ren squirt lube until it drips from his fingers and then, to Dan Heng’s frustration, Ren presses his digits back inside him. Dan Heng’s body sucks them in immediately; unlike his mind, his body has never lied about what it craves.

“Ren,” Dan Heng whines. He’s past his breaking point. If Ren doesn’t put it in him soon he just might cry.

“You’ll thank me,” Ren’s shoulders are tense and his eyes are blown - his dark pupils swallowing red. Finally noticing Ren’s state, Dan Heng realises he’s been taunting a man already at his limit - like tormenting a starving beast by walking into its cage. 

Ren’s fingers slide deep inside Dan Heng without resistance and pull apart, paying most attention to stretching out the rim. His free hand trails featherlight down Dan Heng's body, following the subtle midline of his chest and belly, until his fingers swipe through the dripping mess Dan Heng has made of his own stomach.

Dan Heng doesn’t even respond to the touch, because the space that’s been carved into him keeps growing and now his body is screaming from being empty. Ren’s fingers keep gliding against his walls and Dan Heng is left hopelessly rocking his hips back, trying to avoid coming, until finally Ren draws his fingers out.

Ren’s cock rests against Dan Heng’s stomach while he strokes lube across his length. Like this, Dan Heng can see it lying against his stomach, showing how far it will reach inside of him. It sits under his belly button. The ache in Dan Heng’s belly becomes unbearable. 

Surely this wouldn’t fit, but that concern only ends up turning him on more. He’s truly been broken.

“Put it in,” Dan Heng breathes, still staring.

“And I thought I was impatient.” Judging by the visible veins on Ren’s pelvis as he guides his length lower, he is.  

The head of Ren’s cock pushes at his entrance, and Dan Heng’s heart leaps into his throat at the sensation. He covers his mouth with his palm, as if he's in disbelief that this is about to happen. Ren presses against him for a few tortuous seconds before Dan Heng’s body gives way. They both react; Dan Heng bites his hand and Ren fists the sheets next to him.

Ren ensures he keeps Dan Heng’s hips still as he begins to press in slowly. Dan Heng squirms uselessly as he’s held in place as Ren’s cock spears into him, and with every inch, Dan Heng feels like he’s being permanently changed.

Everything burns in discomfort, but it barely registers against the pleasant hot pressure moving deeper and filling the empty void inside of him.

Ren grunts in effort and his fingers dig heavily into Dan Heng’s hips. He stops pushing in further and Dan Heng assumes it’s because he’s bottomed out.

“Stop clenching so hard.” Ren’s eyes are screwed shut in strain. A bead of sweat rolls down his neck. “You’re going to fucking break my cock.”

Dang Heng isn’t even aware of how tense he is, but he breathes in and tries to ease what he can. It’s difficult to breathe with this intense pressure inside of him. 

“How much...” Dan Heng reaches for what he can of Ren’s thighs, the touch helps to ground him and relax, “more?”

“A lot.” Ren grunts. Dan Heng huffs, almost laughing. It already feels like there’s no space left inside of him, but he’ll be damned if this is where they stop after he went so far as to buy and use that massive dildo.

Dan Heng flails his arms until he finds the bottle of lube. He uncaps it and unceremoniously squeezes an ungodly amount onto where they’re joined. The cold makes both of them flinch.

Ren’s hands have begun to stroke his hips tenderly, almost as if he’s about to say something stupid - like they could stop or that this was enough. Dan Heng cuts off any attempt.

“Make it fit,” Dan Heng orders assuredly, and yet he looks away when he spreads himself open with his hands. He almost feels sick from embarrassment, but if this is what he has to do, he’ll do it.

He doesn’t look at Ren, but he can hear his breathing get heavier and Dan Heng can feel his cock throbbing.

Ren’s fingers spread the lube around, Dan Heng’s rim fluttering at every touch. It continues to sting from the constant stretch, but he can’t imagine how bad this would be if Ren hadn’t spent so long working him open. 

Ren holds himself over him, his long hair tickling Dan Heng’s shoulders, and presses open-mouthed kisses down Dan Heng’s throat, sucking bruises into his skin. Dan Heng trembles under his attention, and he whimpers when sharp teeth pinch on his nipple. 

Dan Heng’s mind is so hazy from Ren’s mouth on his skin and the comforting pressure of his cock, that he doesn’t anticipate Ren’s sudden and powerful thrust.

“Fuck!” Dan Heng’s torso curls in on itself.

Dan Heng quakes in shock and his belly throbs angrily. There’s pain somewhere below his navel. Ren’s cock speared so deep that it feels like he’s been impaled - like he’s been hurt. He’s dizzy from feeling something so far past his self-perceived limit. His dildo definitely wasn’t big enough to prepare him for this. 

“You... asshole... ” Dan Heng wheezes. His body is rigid from shock as he tries to adjust.

“That’s it,” Ren hums after laving his tongue across Dan Heng’s chest. “You’ve done so well.” 

Dan Heng wants to snarl back, but Ren’s praise helps to numb his discomfort and allows him to feel. He’s so full, impossibly so, and where he's most sensitive is under constant low pressure with Ren inside him, even at a standstill. These sensations, paired with Ren turning his chin to kiss him - more tongue than lips - ignite his blood and make his arousal flare.

Dan Heng’s knees shake as he pins them to Ren’s waist because even the slightest movement intensifies the huge pressure inside of him.  

“You better make this worth it,” Dan Heng goads Ren, breathless against his lips. Dan Heng’s not sure if he means just for this ordeal, or the last two months of hell.

He can feel Ren smirk before he moves. He starts slow, and thank god because even just the drag of his cock against his walls, pulling out and then pushing back in, has Dan Heng’s senses misfiring. There’s too much to feel.

Dan Heng arches painfully against Ren. Ren's raised thighs and his large body above him are the only things keeping him above the mattress. His mind tries to withstand the wildfire in his body.

Ren straightens up, causing Dan Heng’s back to drop to the sheets. His shoulder no longer hides Dan Heng’s cries - they both can hear the pitiful whines whenever Ren pushes inside. Dan Heng can’t even keep his eyes open long enough to appreciate the vision of Ren between his legs or catch how Ren’s eyes are heatedly fixated on his belly.

Ren slowly shifts Dan Heng’s hips further up his large thighs until only his upper back meets the mattress. It allows Ren the ability to pitch and align Dan Heng’s pelvis as needed before he slams home.

Stars explode in Dan Heng’s vision and cries are punched out of him. Ren begins thrusting into him at a smooth pace, and it’s too much. He’s unable to handle how Ren’s cock scrapes through him like it’s trying to reshape him, and then it hits somewhere unknown inside of him that aches in pleasure.

“You’re so hot inside.” Ren curves his torso over Dan Heng’s again. His tongue scorches against the skin of his chest. “You feel so good.”

Dan Heng can’t breathe, can’t move, can’t think. His ears are ringing as he’s overloaded with pleasure and he can only desperately try to hold onto Ren again as he’s fucked.

Dan Heng’s orgasm builds alarmingly fast, emerging from the knot in his stomach, growing stronger each time Ren drives into him. Dan Heng is squeezing tightly around his cock, and it makes Dan Heng’s nerves spark in ecstasy. He can’t control his limbs, his toes curl and his nails bite into Ren’s back. The fire inside of him is building so high and he’s afraid of the ignition.

“Ren - ah - I’m -” Dan Heng can’t speak, every snap of Ren’s hips drives the air out of him. He can only claw at the flesh under his fingers. 

“Show me,” Ren’s words rasp against his throat as his rough hand settles on Dan Heng’s leaking erection. He begins grinding his palm into him and Dan Heng spasms in response. 

His body can’t hold everything and unintentionally clings to Ren with all of his strength. His brain is telling Ren to stop, that it’s too much, that he’s going to shatter into pieces, but instead, he only whimpers “Please,” into Ren’s neck over and over again. 

Ren’s hand is so slick around him, from the sheer mess Dan Heng’s made of himself. Ren doesn’t stop, his cock rhythmically spearing him open, breaking him into shape and compressing his prostate. There’s only heat and embers inside of Dan Heng, crackling, flaring, burning -

It ignites and Dan Heng bursts. Nothing exists except pleasure, so strong that he thinks it’s killing him. His orgasm blazes through him, ecstasy engulfing and consuming everything. He’s devoured by it until nothing is left of him but a brittle, smouldering husk.

His senses are what return to him first, through the haze of climax. His muscles are burning from tension and also fluttering deep inside. He’s also faint from deprivation, having stopped breathing when he came. 

When he’s more lucid Dan Heng notices that Ren is holding him against his solid chest and has kept Dan Heng’s hips in place throughout his orgasm. He’s still continually clenching and milking the cock inside of him - the waves of warm aftershocks help to soothe Dan Heng but cause tremors in Ren’s hands. 

Dan Heng goes limp and tries to catch his breath. He’s shaking fitfully all over and there’s cum tickling down his chest and dripping down his sides.

Ren eases him down and stares at him with something akin to hunger and awe, his chest rising sharply with each breath. Now that Dan Heng can finally make sense of what he experienced, he begins to laugh. 

“Should I be concerned?” Ren raises a sweaty brow as he watches the man under him lose it. 

Dan Heng can’t stop laughing at the sheer insanity of what he just felt. He came so hard it felt like he almost died. Is this why other people seemed so obsessed with sex? Maybe he gets it now.

“No.” Dan Heng does his best to calm himself down - he’s conscious that his laughter causes him to clench around Ren who’s wincing in response; the man is still very hard. 

Ren continues to look at him with a blank, confused expression. Dan Heng finds it surprisingly cute, something that he was sure Ren wasn’t capable of.

“Sorry.” Dan Heng rubs his eyes which are wet from tears - caused by laughter or pleasure, he’s not sure. He carefully rests his hands on Ren’s shoulders as he murmurs, “It’s just never felt that good.”

Ren pulses inside of him causing Dan Heng to meet his eyes in surprise. They’re bottomless and sanguine, heat radiating and simmering Dan Heng’s arousal.

“Look at you, seducing me,” Ren growls. His hands slide under Dan Heng’s lower back, nails teasing his skin.

“I’m no - ah!” Dan Heng convulses as Ren lifts him. The angle of his cock shifting causes Dan Heng to see sparks.

“You are.” Ren keeps Dan Heng’s hips in place while he adjusts his legs until they’re bent on the bed, his thighs acting as support for Dan Heng to lean back on. Dan Heng ends up in Ren’s lap, his body so solid around him that it feels like a warm stone. “And I was going to go easy on you.” 

Ren sharply brings down Dan Heng’s hips, impaling him further onto his cock. Dan Heng arches with an aborted cry, his ass now flush with Ren’s pelvis, and he can feel every inch - nothing left outside of him. His cock is so deep inside him that it feels like it’s in his throat and he doesn’t have any space for air.

Beyond the dizzying pleasure of his prostate under constant pressure, he can feel aching under his stomach, like a pleasurable bruise, and it makes his toes curl. Ren’s thumbs trail hotly up and down his belly.

“Look at this, kitten.” Ren takes hold of Dan Heng’s neck and compels him to look down. Dan Heng does so groggily and then whimpers.

There’s an unmistakable bulge protruding from his belly, stopping just below the dip of his navel.

Dan Heng can only stare, dumbstruck, at the physical evidence of Ren inside him. The realisation of what the throbbing sensations he’s been feeling deep inside clicks into place. It’s been Ren literally rearranging his fucking guts. 

“Look how good you look on my cock.” It’s the most debauched image - Dan Heng’s pale stomach, painted in ribbons of his own cum, stretched out to accommodate Ren inside his body. It should be alarming, but instead, Dan Heng feels an intense surge of arousal charge into him.

Ren’s hands enclosed around Dan Heng’s lithe waist, so large in contrast to Dan Heng’s narrow waist that his thumbs rest near the bump. He watches Dan Heng’s expression when he pushes down on it.

“Fuck.” Dan Heng writhes. 

It feels abnormal, but his body has already translated it into perverse pleasure. Arousal flows through every vein until he feels like a live-wire and his own cock has curled up, again, towards the bulge in his belly.

“It’s - hmm - weird.” Dan Heng rolls his hips experimentally and watches the swell shift as he moves. Just that has him shaking and closing his eyes. 

“You love it.” Ren keeps his hands in place as he sucks marks into Dan Heng’s chest.

It’s not a question, and Dan Heng couldn’t deny it even if he tried - not with tears wetting his lashes.

“Yeah.” Dan Heng lays his hands on Ren’s shoulders for support as he lifts himself with his knees. It’s as if Dan Heng’s body doesn’t want to let Ren go as his walls cling to his cock, leaving pleasure sparking through until it’s white-hot.

He allows gravity to help him bring himself down, impacting against Ren’s thighs each time. Ren’s cock drives into him with bruising satisfaction, every punch of it spiking the pleasure even higher.

Dan Heng's thighs ache in exhaustion, and with Ren’s hands squeezing his chest, he’s getting light-headed. His legs begin to give out and he can no longer move like he needs, so he desperately wraps his arms around Ren’s neck. 

“More - I can’t -” He drops his hips down again and moans into Ren’s neck. “Ren, please.”

There’s laboured breathing coming from the back of Ren’s throat and his hands return to Dan Heng’s hips, digging in.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” Dan Heng’s shoulder stings as teeth sink into it.

Ren holds Dan Heng’s hips down as he thrusts up into him and Dan Heng convulses, gripping into Ren’s hair. His nails dig into Ren’s neck every time he slams home. Any discomfort has melted away, his body now ignoring everything but pleasure.

“Ah - too - muh - much.” Dan Heng babbles mindlessly, unable to stay quiet. His arms hold tight around Ren, breathing in his scent. He tries to drop his hips in time to meet Ren’s pace, but his legs are too shaky to do anything.

“More.” He bounces upwards with each of Ren’s thrusts before being brought down on his cock, making Dan Heng feel like a toy in Ren’s arms. It makes a storm grow at the base of his spine.

Ren pulls Dan Heng’s hair until his head snaps back, exposing his throat to Ren’s mouth. A breathless groan vibrates against Ren’s lips. Ren’s eyes are rabid, churning and hungry as he watches Dan Heng fall apart on top of him. Ren continues fucking Dan Heng until the tears welled in his eyes slide down his ivory cheeks. 

By now Dan Heng’s body has given in. His walls have moulded around Ren’s cock and Dan Heng’s body can’t help but grip him whenever he pulls out. He’s been broken into a sleeve for Ren’s use, and Dan Heng basks in it because he’s convinced he could never feel better than this.

“Harder - fuck.” He tugs at Ren’s hair still between his fingers.

Dan Heng is caged in the arms he lusted over for so long, pressing against every inch of his body, when Ren angles Dan Heng back slightly, it leaves him momentarily blind. Ren’s cock compresses his prostate, and with every new thrust in he crushes it.

“You gonna come?” Ren growls in his ear. His arm coils around Dan Heng’s lower back, holding him in place. Dan Heng can only nod hopelessly.

Tension grips every muscle in his body and Dan Heng wails, nails digging into Ren’s spine. Pleasure surges through him, so strong it’s near painful and fills him to the brim. Dan Heng knows he’s about to come, can feel it in his bones, and Ren triggers it by pushing down hard on his belly.

The orgasm snaps through every nerve before pleasure surges through like a current. It blackouts his senses and leaves him in stasis, overloading him with ecstasy. It goes through him in pulses, for what feels like forever, until his nerves can finally speak to each other. He comes to, gasping for breath.

He’s trembling uncontrollably. It feels like he touched a live-wire and it almost destroyed him. His whole body continues to pulse with pleasure and spasms, every limb practically dead in its sockets.

It’s only now - as he wheezes and feels more cum drip down his stomach - that Dan Heng comprehends he came untouched, and that his teeth are clamped into Ren’s shoulder. This is something that’s never happened before and he didn’t think would be possible for him. 

Dan Heng would have started to laugh again if it wasn’t for the tremors of Ren’s body around him, and the absolutely wild look in Ren’s eyes. With a broken whine, Dan Heng notices that Ren is still throbbing, hot and unyielding inside of him.

Dan Heng feels limp, but his arousal refuses to die down as he focuses on Ren. His desire for him hasn’t left, despite how wrecked he is. He wants Ren to come, and he wants to feel it. 

“Ren,” he murmurs, sagged against his chest. Dan Heng can feel Ren’s heartbeat thundering through his skin, matching his own. “Keep going.” Ren’s nails bite into the nape of his neck as he trembles with barely held restraint. Dan Heng has never felt so desired and something new breaks in his mind, leading to his words.  

“Use me.”

It triggers Ren, who pulls Dan Heng off his cock and then shoves him to the side. He isn’t left alone for long however, because he’s quickly flipped over onto his stomach. 

Dan Heng sobs from how excruciatingly empty he is now. His body had moulded to Ren, and now his insides hurt from the void. He’s whimpering pathetically from the loss when Ren lifts Dan Heng’s hips until they’re held up by his thighs.

Dan Heng can feel the sticky, blunt head of Ren’s cock getting into place. His insides throb in want, and he shamelessly arches his back to present better. 

Ren’s palms press down on Dan Heng’s shoulders, almost covering them before he drives into Dan Heng in one long stroke. Dan Heng bucks involuntarily in return, blissfully full again and reeling from overstimulation. It feels so good that tears drip onto the sheets.

“Fuck, you’re -” Ren thrusts into Dan Heng, hard - and Dan Heng feels it inside his stomach, “so soft inside now. Fuck.” Dan Heng pushes his face into the mattress to hide his noises.

It’s now with his face down and ass up, and Ren controlling his hips, that Dan Heng knows how gentle Ren was before. He should have expected it - if Ren wanted to ruin him, he could.

And that’s what he’s doing now. Ren uses Dan Heng’s hips as leverage and fucks him so deep that every time he slams home, Dan Heng can feel the bruising hit beyond just his ass.

His body has completely relented, now a ragdoll that’s given up on clenching or resisting Ren. It now welcomes every stroke inside him. With his body so compliant, and Ren fucking him like this, Dan Heng truly feels like he’s become just a sleeve for his cock. 

His mind begins to shut down to everything but pleasure, pain and the noises Ren is making in the back of his throat, because Dan Heng knows that subconsciously he’s been wanting this for so long.

His overstimulation worsens, and he’s left in excruciating pleasure. Every part of his body wants to reject it because it’s too much, but his mind still wants more, even though he’s half-soft now. The sensitivity is intolerable, but the pleasure is unbelievable. He’s sitting on a line between heaven and hell. 

“I can’t - please -” Dan Heng hiccups, his forehead rhythmically digging into the mattress from Ren’s brutal pace. “No more, I can’t -” He’s begging for Ren to stop, and yet his body betrays his words by clamping down, to keep Ren inside. Telltale swells begin to flow through him. 

Ren’s teeth scrape across Dan Heng’s neck and an arm locks around the top of his thighs.

“You can.” Dan Heng shudders all over at his unyielding tone. His mind is breaking down into nothing but colours, sensations and sounds. Ren thrusts particularly deep and Dan Heng wails, muffling himself with a mouthful of fabric. Ren forces Dan Heng’s hand onto his stomach with his own, making him feel what Ren’s doing to his body. “Now be good, and show me.”

The sheets are wet underneath Dan Heng’s cheeks. Ren’s probably leaving bruises on his hip-bones and ass from how hard he’s using him, but Dan Heng has lost any semblance of sanity or shame and has begun to sob. 

Dan Heng claws at the sheets and his toes curl and cramp. The surge of an orgasm is building up inside him again, but this time it feels different. Before when he came it was as if he burst into flames, but now he feels like he’s about to be lost in the deepest depths. Intense pressure is building in his belly.

“Come for me.” Ren’s words add to it, build it higher. He wants to be good.

His knees have long grown slack, so Ren is the only thing keeping his hips up, pulling him back to impale him on his cock. The angle of Dan Heng’s pelvis changes and then Ren drives down and his cock punches in so deep that his prostrate is flattened and Dan Heng can feel the head of his cock push against his fingers. 

It’s as if Dan Heng’s every nerve bursts from the pressure and he loses all awareness. His senses are smothered, as if underwater, and all he can do is feel. The constant pleasurable waves rush through him - first receding, then swelling and crashing into another stronger burst of euphoria. He’s lost to it, like a drowning man in a sea of pleasure. 

After what could be an eternity, Dan Heng regains some grasp of reality. The pleasure he’s experiencing has lost its intensity, but the tides don’t stop washing through him. His thighs drip and he’s held upright on his knees. His stomach and chest are wet, but it’s not like the cum decorating his belly.

“Fucking hell,” Ren’s hot breath and pained noises wash down Dan Heng’s neck.

Ren’s arms are wrapped around him, one across his chest and another around his stomach, holding him up and against him. One of Ren’s hands is splayed over Dan Heng’s inner thigh, and it’s dripping transparently too. There’s a large, spattered damp spot beneath him, and Dan Heng is too dazed to understand.

“You’re driving me crazy.” Ren’s arm braces across Dan Heng’s chest and his hand firmly, but carefully, close around his pale throat. He uses it to bring Dan Heng’s lips up to his.

Their mouths continuously bump together and Dan Heng is aware enough to know what from. He’s jolting with movement, accompanied by his own full-body tremors, as Ren hasn’t stopped thrusting into him.

Judging by how loud Ren is now and how frenetic his pace has become - he’s lost to chasing his climax. 

Dan Heng sags in Ren’s arms, but he presses the side of his face against Ren’s throat to keep close. He’s numb below the waist, but the waves of pleasure continue to course through his veins whenever Ren drives inside. It feels like his orgasm hasn’t yet completely receded, despite how he doesn’t have an erection.

He’s still delirious; like he’s in limbo and dangling in between oblivion and reality. He’s moaning into Ren’s neck, punctuated by each thrust, when he notices Ren’s strained voice.

“Where?” His arms tighten around Dan Heng, holding him closer. Their hips remain completely flush and Dan Heng still sheathes all of Ren’s cock inside his soft, pulsing heat.

Without even thinking, Dan Heng exhales into his neck, “ah - in - inside”. 

Ren pumps deeply a few more times, and Dan Heng can feel the stretch of his skin and his face hot with tears. Ren’s arms crush Dan Heng into his body and presses his broken moans harder into Ren’s neck, his wild hair sticking to his cheeks. 

Ren bites down on a new part of Dan Heng’s shoulder when he comes, as if he’s trying to hold him in place. The most wrecked noise and swears shake out of Ren and Dan Heng instinctively reaches behind to keep Ren pressed tightly against him. Ren’s cock kicks inside Dan Heng’s walls and fluid warmth begins to bloom deep within him.

It triggers a fresh tidal wave of pleasure that knocks the air out of Dan Heng’s lungs in a broken cry, and he twitches all over, absolutely pulled apart. He’s vaguely aware of the orgasmic tremors that hit him sporadically, causing him to jerk and clench around Ren. Judging by the groans against his neck, Ren can feel it too.

They stay holding each other for what feels like forever - it could be seconds or minutes - where they both pant and simply absorb each other’s body heat. Reality begins to return in drips for Dan Heng, and with it comes extreme exhaustion and aches. He’s been taken apart like a shipwreck dashed against the shore.

Dan Heng slumps, arms falling from behind Ren’s waist, and Ren follows him, lowering them both onto their sides amongst the destroyed linens. They’re silent as they both bask in the post-orgasm bliss. Ren’s solid, warm arms feel unbelievably nice around Dan Heng.

“So.” Ren peppers Dan Heng’s neck and shoulders with kisses. It leaves him tingling, like tiny bubbles popping against his skin. “Still frustrated?”

Dan Heng can’t hide his laugh, but it’s more of a puff of air because of the state of his throat. He pointedly elbows Ren behind him. “Shut up.” His words hold no bite, the low fizzing of endorphins is keeping him sedated.

“Because if not, we could just go again -”

“I think I’d die.” Dan Heng loosely plays with Ren’s arm around his waist, acutely aware of soreness starting to make itself known. Dan Heng carefully raises a leg - which is an almost impossible task - and gingerly eases Ren’s softening cock out of him. They both make a pained noise at the loss of each other.

The emptiness Dan Heng is left with is intense; almost as if he’s lost a limb. The thought makes Dan Heng embarrassed; apparently, his body now has a phantom limb, and it’s Ren’s dick. Oh, how low he’s fallen.

“I think you’ve already broken me. Even my stomach hurts.” He isn’t lying, the inside of his flesh feels bruised. With the last of his energy, Dan Heng shimmies in Ren’s hold until he’s facing him. 

“Hmm?” Ren’s voice is deliciously deep and sated. Ren still has the same unchanged intense aura as before, but somehow his eyes appear softer as he looks at Dan Heng. “But you did so well.” His touch is soothing against Dan Heng’s arm.

“Shush.” Dan Heng shoves Ren’s shoulder until he’s flat on his back. Dan Heng keeps himself curled around Ren’s side. “Unfortunately, you’re aware of what that does to me now, so take responsibility.”

Dan Heng can hear the beginning of a laugh in Ren’s chest as his arm settles around Dan Heng’s back. It seems Ren might be right in calling him kitten because Dan Heng would be purring right now if he could.

It turns out that Ren’s body is good for more than fighting (and now, sex); he makes a wonderful body pillow.

Dan Heng drapes his arm across Ren’s stomach. It’s strange, Dan Heng considers, that right now he’s undeniably cuddling Ren. He’s never been a touchy person and hardly ever craved physical contact. In the few sexual encounters he’s had he definitely didn’t want to cuddle afterwards. So why does he feel so comfortable and content right now?

“What’s this?” Ren twists the skin of Dan Heng’s left upper arm. Dan Heng realises too late what he’s noticed.

It’s his tattoo. His dragon tattoo.

“I told you I had a dragon tattoo,” Dan Heng grumbles into Ren’s chest. He’s avoiding eye contact because guilt washes over him. He’s not sure how Ren might be feeling - he might be uncomfortable now, knowing that his dragon has a sister pair and it’s on Dan Heng - someone largely unimportant in his life.

“You didn’t mention it was the one in your sketch.” Ren rubs his thumb along all the snaking aqua lines on his inner arm. Dan Heng’s heart is in his throat.

But instead, Ren does something he doesn’t expect - he awkwardly gives it a kiss.

“It’s beautiful,” he muses. “It suits you.”

Dan Heng blinks at Ren in surprise, watching him settle back against the pillows and fuss over the plastic wrap on his arm - it’s a disaster and almost falling off. It’s a miracle it’s still somewhat on.

Dan Heng wants to know how Ren really feels about his tattoo now, but he doesn’t know how to ask. He can’t come up with the words that capture what he’s feeling or what he’s hoping for, but he'll take it as a good sign that Ren seems genuinely unbothered. It gives Dan Heng a fluttering feeling in his stomach.

Dan Heng eases his cheek back onto Ren’s chest and begins to doze, trailing his fingertips between each dip and groove of Ren’s body absentmindedly - something that he’s been wanting to do since he first met him. 

He’s beyond exhausted. He feels like a piece of paper that’s been folded over and over again and is about to rip at the crease. Everything below his waist is a wreck - it’s like he’s been hit repeatedly with a bat with how much everything aches. Not to mention that he’s covered in god knows what and his ass is so wet, both in-between his thighs and dripping out of him.

But he can’t deny that although he’s aching and uncomfortable, he still feels so blissfully good. 

“What are you doing,” Ren watches Dan Heng’s fingers trail patterns over him.

“Mmm. Admiring my conquest,” Dan Heng replies drowsily as he explores the dips and crevices he finds.

He’s too sated and drowsy to notice the way Ren seems to still at his words. 

“Hmm, your conquest?” Ren asks a few moments later. His hand returns to stroking Dan Heng’s arm.

“Mmhm.” Dan Heng sighs blissfully and closes his eyes. He stops playing around and holds onto Ren’s waist.

“So what now, since you’ve ‘conquered’ me?”

“Mmm we’ll just have to wait and see,” Dan Heng murmurs absentmindedly. Everything is quiet afterwards, and Dan Heng lets sleep claim him.

Dan Heng stirs awake. At first, he’s not sure what planet he’s on, but things come back to him when he feels the pain in his ass. 

He can hear his shower turning off. He blearily looks around the room for clues - the daylight’s changed to an orange glow and he’s found his way to the edge of the bed, where Ren used to be. There’s a blanket from his cupboard covering him.

“You’re awake. I’m shocked.”

Dan Heng sluggishly looks towards his bathroom door. Ren is standing there in all of his massive glory, completely naked, and wet with one of Dan Heng’s towels around his neck. His dark, soaked hair falls in mesmerising tendrils and plasters against his skin. He’s busy drying his scalp while looking down at Dan Heng splayed across the bed.

Dan Heng blinks slowly; letting all the pieces fall together into a picture that he understands. Ren used his shower, and now he’s naked in his room. 

Judging by the reaction he can feel in his own body; having sex with Ren has fucked him up even worse - because seeing him standing there with his dick out and covered in his scratches and bites makes Dan Heng want to fuck him again, despite currently feeling like he’s debilitated.

Fuck. He angrily plants his face into the mattress. 

“Here.” Dan Heng peers up the instant before Ren lifts his blanket and manhandles him onto his side.

“What are you doing?!” Dan Heng hisses. His flailing is getting him stuck in the blanket. 

His question is answered by a warm washcloth on his stomach.

“Cleaning you up?” Ren raises an eyebrow at him. His wet hair periodically drips onto Dan Heng’s chest leaving shivers behind. He continues wiping down Dan Heng’s front, from his chest to his thighs.

Dan Heng awkwardly freezes, he’s not sure how to handle this tender gesture, especially not from Ren, so he covers his face with the blanket and lets Ren continue. He doesn’t even fight back when Ren rolls him over and uses the cloth for his ass. However, he does yelp a few times because everything is raw and swollen, despite Ren’s surprisingly gentle touch.

He jolts when a cold damp towel drops on top of him. He peeks over the blanket edge.

“You might want to put that underneath you. I couldn’t get much out.” 

Dan Heng is reminded at that moment that, oh yeah, Ren came inside him - he told him to. It’s not like he has anything to compare it to, but he’s surprised by how little cum he feels in his ass. He remembers how much warmth spread through him when Ren came. Dan Heng’s face is on fire - and it wasn’t just from embarrassment. 

“Thanks,” he grumbles. He shimmies the towel underneath his pelvis and tries to hide his pink cheeks.

He can hear an amused sound from Ren, but thankfully he doesn’t say anything. 

Dan Heng allows himself to doze again, especially now that he doesn’t feel disgusting. He’s half expecting Ren to come back and lie next to him. He perks awake when he sees Ren fully dressed and collecting his boots by the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Gym.”

“At this time?” Dan Heng looks at the sky outside his window. “And didn’t you go this morning?”

“I did. I go twice a day.” Dan Heng looks at him dumbstruck. “Do you think this comes naturally?” Blade makes a vague gesture towards his body. 

Dan Heng hasn’t really thought about it - he’d been too busy frothing over Ren’s body to consider how he gets it, or the level of work and dedication it would take to maintain. Considering Dan Heng’s never seen someone as ridiculously built as him, it makes sense that he goes to the gym twice a day when he’s not training.

But there are still certain things that working out will never give - like height, or hand size, or a beautiful face, or a massive dick.

“Well, you have good genes to start with.” 

“Is that a compliment? From Dan Heng?” Ren smirks as he finishes tying up his bootlaces. His wet hair is tied up in a ponytail and dripping onto the floor. Ren should really tie his hair up like that more often. “To think, I had to fuck you to get one.”

Dan Heng glares at him grumpily from under the blankets. Embarrassment squirms in his chest uncomfortably. He huffs and pretends to go to sleep.

He can hear the sounds of Ren leaving, like his front door opening, and without even sparing a second thought Dan Heng calls out to him.

“My keys are probably on the floor near the door.”

There’s only silence that follows, and Dan Heng wonders if Ren left and had the gall to leave his door open. Instead, he looks up and finds Ren standing in the doorway staring at him with the strangest look on his face. It’s like he’s frozen but also thinking too hard at the same time.

Dan Heng is about to ask why he is looking at him like that, but before he can, Ren smiles at him. 

He’s never seen Ren smile - smirking and grinning, sure, but not a genuine smile. It’s not big, in fact, you can barely see it, and it’s surprisingly timid, but it makes Dan Heng feel confused all the same.

Ren collects Dan Heng’s keys from the floor, brandishing them for Dan Heng to see, before closing the door behind him. It automatically locks.

Dan Heng watches the door for a while, wondering what all of that was, but decides to drop it. He’s too tired and achy to analyse it. 

He goes back to sleep surrounded by the scent of Ren and his shower gel.

Dan Heng startles awake to a bang and bright light.

“Sorry.” Ren winces, catching the front door from its rebound against the wall. 

Dan Heng stares at him with the heart rate of a frightened rabbit. It takes him a moment to register that he’s not being robbed.

“Can you not break down my door? What time is it?” He awkwardly stretches to the floor, almost falling off the bed, to get his phone out of his pants pocket. 

“Eight-ish?” 

Dan Heng checks to confirm. It’s dark outside now, and he has a few unread messages from Stelle and March. He opens up the messages before Ren interrupts him.

“I brought food.” He holds out the plastic bag he’s carrying as evidence. “Come and eat.”

Dan Heng blinks in wonder at Ren’s retreating back as he enters his kitchen, soon followed by the unnecessary banging of his cupboards. He hadn’t noticed he was so hungry until Ren showed him the promise of food.

Before he does anything else Dan Heng reads through his messages. March is just checking up on him, bless her heart, but Stelle is a much different story. He taps a quick message to March, before switching to Stelle.

Stelle  6:24 PM

March said you weren’t feeling well... and that Blade took you home?

8:12 PM

Yes, he did. I’m bedridden.

Stelle responds so quickly that he doesn’t even have a chance to lock his phone. He was hoping she wouldn’t have been so perceptive, but alas had been. Dan Heng wants to set himself on fire.

She sent him the meme of WHORE written across a mirror. Stelle always did have an exceptional meme game.

8:13 PM

Thanks for that, Stelle.

Stelle  8:14 PM

was it worth your suffering?

8:14 PM

I refuse to answer that question.

Stelle  8:15 PM

so what now? 

8:15 PM

?

Stelle  8:15 PM

??

8:17 PM

What do you mean?

Stelle  8:17 PM

well do you want to see him again?

Dan Heng stares at his phone until his screen goes dark. He keeps asking himself what Stelle meant by ‘do you want to see him again’? Not once has it occurred to Dan Heng what he would do after he hooked up with Ren because, for the longest time, he didn’t see that happening. He hasn’t even thought about the aftermath. 

Does his friend - and the world around him - really think that Dan Heng views Ren as a one-night stand? Even when he doesn’t know his next steps? Does Ren think that?

Something about that is unsettling to him.

Suddenly Dan Heng’s world turns sideways and he fumbles his phone.

“What are you doing?!” Dan Heng squirms inside his blanket prison, now in Ren’s arms. Ren looks at him indifferently.

“You weren’t coming.” 

Ren carries him into his living room and unceremoniously drops him on the sofa. Dan Heng clings to the blankets so they don’t fall off. He’s still completely naked. 

“Now eat.” Ren pushes a plate towards him on his coffee table. It looks like a noodle dish of some kind, and by the smell he guesses traditional Chinese.

Dan Heng isn’t sure how to react now that he’s been carried around and told to eat his dinner like a child. He intends to defend his pride, assuming that Ren is deliberately teasing him, but when he takes a breath to begin chewing him out he finds Ren sitting on the other end of the sofa and calmly eating his own food. 

Dan Heng watches his side profile awkwardly. This was... an unexpected and unusual development, to say the least. But he can’t deny that it’s pleasant, nice in a way that he hasn’t really experienced before.

He quietly starts to eat his food and turns on the TV. It’s some random shark documentary, but he quickly stops paying attention because there’s a sudden downward rush of wet and it begins oozing out of him. It seems Ren’s cum needed the help of gravity. Dan Heng wishes he brought that towel with him.

His inconvenient leaking aside, Dan Heng feels uncomfortable. It’s completely silent, save for some animal commentary. Personally, Dan Heng is perfectly fine with silence, but most people don’t seem to enjoy it like he does. He isn’t sure what to say to appropriately fill the quiet between them.

“It’s good.” Dan Heng points at the food with his fork. 

Ren observes him - his eyes seem to pay special attention to the bare patches of alabaster skin exposed by the blanket.

“Please, no small talk.” Ren chuckles and leans back into the couch. He drapes an arm around Dan Heng’s shoulder and brings him closer. Dan Hen awkwardly holds his plate while squishing into Ren’s side.

“Thank god,” Dan Heng sighs in relief. 

By the time Dan Heng has finished his food, he’s bundled up against Ren and they’re sharing arbitrary shark facts. Dan Heng could tell Ren about shark biology while Ren knew about some tools forged in history to hunt them.

It’s an interesting conversation, but above that, Dan Heng feels comfortable - and not just physically in his warm blankets. It feels indescribably satisfying to be able to just sit there, not saying anything, and not have to worry about being ‘cold’. That’s something he’s been called all his life due to his generally anti-social personality. Only Stelle can give him that same sense of peace.

And somehow, impossibly, he may have found another who gives him that comfort (which is laughably ironic, considering how uncomfortable he’s been because of Ren).

Dan Heng drifts off at some point, just too snug and sated to keep his eyes open.

He awakens again to some music on the television. He’s unsure how long he’s been asleep, but it seems to be deep into the night. 

Ren is asleep next to him, his arm still loosely around Dan Hen’s blanket cocoon. The colours of the television flicker across his face, and for the first time, Dan Heng feels a quiver of want in his heart, completely different from any want he’s felt before.

Ren’s face looks soft, despite his hard features. Ren has always come across as a predator in some sense of the word, especially as Blade - like he can take or destroy anything he wants; like the world is at his mercy. 

But right here, on Dan Heng’s couch with the dim light on him, that predator has vanished and been replaced by a vulnerable human.

Dan Heng wonders how many people could say they have seen Ren like this, unguarded and soft. A selfish, and previously non-existent, part of him hopes that he’s the only one.

He should wake Ren, or at least relocate them both to bed, but Dan Heng resists. He’s too trapped in this moment which feels powerfully - and the only word he can think to describe it is - intimate. He wants to yield to this new feeling just a bit longer.

Dan Heng carefully returns to his previous spot of his body and cheek pressed into Ren’s side. He inhales the scent of his own faded bodywash with Ren’s arm loose around him. 

He listens to Ren’s slow heartbeat, and then his deep breathing. He’s swiftly lulled back to sleep with a new perception about love.

Dan Heng spent a lot of time considering what Stelle said, or more so how surprised he was to read it. It confused him, how reading that one question, caused a pang of sadness in his chest.

There was a time when Dan Heng would have been happy to rid himself of Ren due to all the frustration, torment and difficult self-learning he’s caused. But now that nothing is forcing them together anymore, Dan Heng finds that he isn’t happy at all about the prospect.

That’s what causes him to make a conscious effort. 

He’s lucky that Ren was the first person to reach out after he left Dan Heng’s apartment that morning. Dan Heng is already out of his element engaging in flirting, and reciprocating whatever they’re doing, so he isn’t sure if he would have been able to make the first move. Whenever he feels uncomfortable or overwhelmed he thinks back to Ren’s sleeping face and the feeling it causes which gives him motivation.

As a bonus, Dan Heng can also motivate himself by thinking about how mindblowing sex is with him. 

They hooked up one other time since that day, and Dan Heng wishes it was more. When Ren’s appointments came to an end he was two weeks away from his Masters deadline and he had to permanently lock himself in his apartment to finalise it. He had caved five days before the deadline because he was exhausted, stressed and ridiculously horny. 

He didn’t even let Ren put down his stuff before he pulled off his shirt. Dan Heng was so grateful that Ren had been on the same page as him and promptly railed Dan Heng against his couch, table and then his bed until he was crying. By the time Ren left the next day Dan Heng was wondrously blissed out and in the right headspace to finish his work.

All of this led Dan Heng to right now, the first day out of his self-imposed exile. In the past, he would have celebrated that by something low-key with March and Stelle, but instead, he’s cramped against a passage wall at night flanked by his two best friends with far too many people walking past and into them.

March is talking enthusiastically, as usual, about the fight they’d just seen. She has a new scarf with Blade’s name across it around her neck, and Stelle is humouring the conversation while holding the world’s tiniest Blade flag in her hand. Dan Heng is doing his best to pretend he’s bored and part of their conversation.

In reality, he’s waiting for Ren to come around the corner with fucking butterflies in his stomach, and playing a game of stare-chicken with that weird silver-haired girl he saw once before.

He almost has a heart attack when the girl breaks eye contact and immediately starts walking away while shouting.

“Old Man!”

All of their heads turn in her direction to witness her walking up to Ren and Kafka. 

Ren doesn’t even react to the name, just stares blankly at the girl. He looks past her and sees the three of them. The weight of his gaze settles on Dan Heng.

Dan Heng can hear March happily greeting Ren from behind him. He only realises he’s been walking towards Ren just before he reaches him. Ren’s unflinching stare has the butterflies in Dan Heng’s stomach flying into his throat.

“Ah, Dan Heng. How nice to see you.” Kafka gives him an eerily pleasant smile. Dan Heng is surprised she remembers his name. “And your lovely friends, too.” She spares a glance and a tiny wave to his friends.

“This is Silver Wolf.” Dan Heng’s attention snaps back when Ren speaks. His voice sounds rough - probably from all the heavy breathing from his match. He gestures with his head towards the tiny silver-haired girl. “She works with Kafka.”

“Silver Wolf?” He looks back at her - somehow she’s blowing bubblegum again.

“Yo.” She greets him with a bored expression.

“I suppose that makes as much sense as Blade,” Dan Heng muses. She replies to his comment with an unenthusiastic v sign. She promptly ignores him and directs herself back to Ren.

“How bad is it? I can’t believe you got injured.” Silver Wolf crosses her arms and pops another bubble. “Noob.”

“Only a dislocation - it’s back in.” Ren moves his shoulder ball to prove it. Dan Heng can see flashes of his dragon’s furry tail. “Why don’t you fight next time instead?”

“Because I’m not heavyweight class, duh.” 

“Right,” Ren responds flatly. He looks to Dan Heng who stares back silently. Ren must have read his mind or he has his own similar thoughts. “Go. I’ll catch up,” he addresses the two women.

Kafka has a sly, knowing smile on her face that prompts Dan Heng to avoid eye contact. 

“Don’t forget to see the physio, Bladie.” He grunts in confirmation. Once the two women have left their side Dan Heng clears his throat.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” Ren echoes.

What a great start. They’re just as bad as each other at this, but Dan Heng finds that reassuring. At least he’s not making a fool out of himself.

“It was a good fight,” Dan Heng offers, unconsciously raking over Ren’s body with his eyes.

It had been - every round was tooth and nail. Blade won in the end, but he earned every point. Even now, he’s covered in scratches, welts, sweat, and traces of blood. The flesh around his right shoulder looks swollen. It has been absolutely nauseating to see his arm flop down after a grapple, dislocated at the shoulder. But trust Ren to take a brief timeout, pop it back in, and continue. 

Dan Heng has begrudgingly come to accept this new, unhinged part of himself that found Ren’s action arousing - after he got over the nausea that is. Not to mention the state that Ren is in now, almost naked, covered in sweat and muscles filled out from use - it’s far too easy to compare this state to sex.

“Is that really what you came here to tell me?” Ren asks impassively. To most, he would seem disinterested, but Dan Heng can now read the amusement in between his words.

“Mostly,” Dan Heng responds. 

He won’t say it, but he’s been thinking a lot over the last two weeks about all the off-hand comments he’s made to Ren. After the prompt from Stelle’s question, he has come to realise how some of the things he’s said could be misleading. 

Dan Heng knows that he’s not emotional and doesn’t care for people outside of a select few, but since he’s now in the headspace where he’s willing to make an effort for Ren, this would be the best time to start.

“I also wanted to say that my conquest of you has failed. You’re far too out of control.”

Ren raises an eyebrow at him. They both watch Dan Heng’s hand reach for the back of Ren’s neck.

“It’s going to have to be a continuous process of conquest.” Dan Heng plays with the loose tendrils of Ren’s hair. He desperately hopes that Ren can read between the lines so he doesn’t have to find a new way to say this. This is already difficult enough.

Dan Heng is rewarded when Ren’s head dips towards his, so he’s a breath away and holding his gaze - the piercing red and amber trapping Dan Heng’s attention once again.

“Is that so?” Ren’s smirk slides languidly onto his face. “I guess if you succeed one day, you could put your name on me.”

Dan Heng shivers to his core, a flame growing. He can’t stop himself from pulling Ren’s face closer so Dan Heng can kiss him. He shares all the heat that’s engulfing him between each press of their lips so that Ren can burn with him too.

At the same time that Dan Heng hears a squeak from behind him, he yelps into Ren’s mouth as he’s lifted to be slightly above Ren. 

He breaks away to find March covering her mouth, staring at the two of them with pure shock and delight in her eyes. Stelle on the other hand continues to watch them, completely unphased. 

Oh, Dan Heng is never going to hear the end of this.

“Your arm!” He admonishes instead. Blade huffs a laugh, immediately dropping his injured arm and keeping Dan Heng lifted with only his remaining one.

“Better?” Ren asks instead. 

Dan Heng’s mind disintegrates like paper thrown into a fire. The fact that Ren is holding him up with just one arm under his ass has him all kinds of fucked up. He knows his face must be red with embarrassment and arousal, but he doesn’t care at that moment. Only Ren can see the state he’s in, and there’s only one thing on his mind.

“Is the locker room free?” Dan Heng asks seriously. His leg wraps around Ren’s waist.

“No, but my apartment is.” Ren ends the comment by giving him the most teasing of chaste kisses. His fingers dig into Ren’s exposed flesh.

 “You have ten minutes to get your things.” 

“Sure, but good luck making up an excuse for your friends.”

Epilogue

Dan Heng’s Instagram account exploded with new followers once Ren’s tattoo was shared about a month later over social media with credit to Dan Heng, and the shop.

He’s sure that some people were genuinely interested in the artistic value of the piece, but he’s more confident that most people just liked seeing the close-up shots of Ren’s bare body - judging by the majority of thirst comments in the replies. 

He can’t blame them, Dan Heng had a great time taking the pictures, posing Ren just right, playing with his hair, and feeling smug that the photos were taken in his bedroom and he could take off Ren’s clothes whenever he wanted.

The gain in followers, and more importantly, the increased bookings to the shop aren’t the only positive to come out of the post. 

In the last photo Ren uploaded, showing the entire expanse of his right arm with the coiling dragon tail, Dan Heng could be seen in the background of the mirror taking the picture - neither of them had noticed until it was uploaded.

Thankfully it wasn’t a compromising picture, which it well could have been, but Dan Heng’s face and frame could be seen clearly. He’s always hated having his picture taken, and normally if his picture were to be shared with over a million people he would be deeply uncomfortable, but this time he doesn’t mind because it’s completely worth it for the replies.

firework diting

omg is that the artist from @RailInk behind him? is he available??

3h  250 likes

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Blade

@firework diting He’s unavailable.

3h  78 likes

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Silver Wolf_01

@Blade she means is he single idiot. smh.

2h  181 likes 

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Blade

@Silver Wolf I said what I said.

2h  1,356 likes

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March 7th 

@Blade 👀

2h  204 likes

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Trailblazer_03

@Dan_Heng_Ink

1h  35 likes

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“What are you sniggering at?” Dan Heng looks up from his phone screen to find Blade staring at him from the balcony, shirtless and with a cigarette burning between his fingers. The image of his long hair swaying in the breeze is striking.

“I’m unavailable?” Dan Heng asks - he knows he probably has the most insufferable look on his face right now. His smile only grows when he sees the lightest of blushes dust Ren’s cheeks.

Ren avoids eye contact like the plague and pretends to look at the sky while exhaling smoke.

“Well, am I wrong?” He says eventually, challenging Dan Heng with his gaze. Dan Heng knows his answer immediately, but he pretends to think about it just to annoy him.

“Hmm, depends.” Dan Heng lays back against the arm of Ren’s couch. Ren’s eyes narrow.

“On what?” Ren takes the bait. 

“How available are you?” Dan Heng rests his cheek in his palm. Ren snorts as he stumps out his cigarette, now realising he’s fallen into a trap.

“I’m not.” He replies decisively. Ren walks over and Dan Heng can’t help the flutter in his stomach. “And I’m not sure when I’ll be available again.”

Dan Heng knows he’s been asking pointless questions, but he can’t deny how nice it is to hear those words anyway.

“Then I guess I am unavailable.” Dan Heng pretends to look at his phone nonchalantly. He can’t suppress the twitch of his lips when a shadow looms over him and the couch depresses around him. He can smell smoke on Ren’s skin. “Fully booked for the foreseeable future.”

Dan Heng gives up on the charade and looks at Ren. His face is above him, his dark hair flowing like a curtain around them as if they’re the only two people left in the world. His carmine eyes flicker with heat and it warms Dan Heng through.

“What a shame for everyone else,” Ren purrs, a hand trailing down Dan Heng’s jaw and to his neck. 

Ren claims him then, just like Dan Heng’s already done with the ink in his skin.