(M) Chapter 52 - The Tattoo
Novel Title: 一屋暗灯 (Ephemeral Light)
Author：麦香鸡呢 (McChicken)
Translator: K (@kin0monogatari)
Protagonists: 宋谨 (Song Jin -MC), 宋星阑 (Song Xinglan -ML)
*Please read at knoxt.space, the original site of translation. TQ*
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If Song Jin had known what consequences his words would bring, he might have chosen a more tactful way of saying it. Unfortunately, it was too late.
It was his first time kissing to the point of dizziness and disorientation. His breath was filled with the rich scent of wine. Song Xinglan's hands roamed over his body countless times, and Song Jin finally lost all sense of self. He didn't even know when his pants had been taken off.
It was as if his senses had failed. His ears were filled with the sounds of heartbeats and breathing while his vision was a blur of countless flickering lights. His body felt hot, his breath was hot, and every touch sent a shiver through him. Although nothing had really started yet, Song Jin was already desperately trying to suppress his voice.
He was left with only an open shirt, messily covering his reddened body. Song Xinglan kissed his neck. Song Jin didn't dare touch him. Both of their bodies were too hot, as if sparks would fly upon contact.
"Xing... Xinglan..." Song Jin raised his hand to cover his eyes, breathing heavily. He felt a strong sense of suffocation. He just wanted to call a halt, to catch his breath. "I..."
"We're just getting started." Song Xinglan took off his own shirt and spread Song Jin's legs. He then pressed down on him. "Ge, relax."
"No... I can't..." Song Jin closed his eyes and took deep breaths, unconsciously licking his own hot lips. He groaned softly in pain. "I feel uncomfortable..."
"Where do you feel uncomfortable?" Song Xinglan removed Song Jin's hand from his eyes and pressed his forehead against Song Jin's to check his temperature. "Is it hot?"
Song Jin nodded with his eyes closed.
In fact, besides the heat, there was more tension, panic, and confusion. Some emotions were impossible to articulate. They existed, couldn't be ignored, and couldn't be explained. The closer they got, the stronger they became.
"Ge," Song Xinglan brushed Song Jin's eyelashes with his fingertips, asking, "Didn't you want to see my tattoo?"
Song Jin slowly opened his eyes, focusing on Song Xinglan's features for a moment before nodding slightly and softly murmuring, "Mm."
He looked very obedient, seemingly aware that Song Xinglan was giving him some time to adjust. He followed along without any defence, not realising this was just another trap.
When Song Xinglan held his waist and changed his position to kneel on the bed, he was still in a daze.
Song Xinglan leaned against the pillow in a half-sitting position. Despite his upward gaze, his oppressive aura was strong. He pulled Song Jin's hand to his belt buckle, saying, "See for yourself."
Song Jin's Adam's apple bobbed as he moved his fingers. With one hand not strong enough, he straightened his body slightly forward and used both hands to unbuckle Song Xinglan's belt.
As he pulled the zipper down, his hand inevitably brushed against the already responsive area. Panicked, Song Jin looked up at Song Xinglan's eyes, only to find that it was even worse than not looking at him. His brother's gaze was terrifyingly dark. It was as if he was enjoying the prey's last struggles before the kill. He was suppressing his desires while relishing in the sight of his opponent's helplessness at the edge of despair.
The waistband of the suit trousers was pulled down, revealing the edge of the underwear and a small section of the tattoo. The last time Song Jin saw it, he only saw a little bit but felt it was familiar, though he couldn't remember exactly what it was. So, he was curious—just a bit curious—but Song Xinglan held onto this curiosity tightly.
The underwear covered the perfect lines of Song Xinglan's waist. Kneeling between Song Xinglan's legs, Song Jin hooked his fingers around the waistband and slowly pulled it down. The tattoo gradually revealed itself, stretching over the pale skin and muscular lines, with no other colours—just black and grey. The shape was hard to describe. It was like a small burning flame but more like...a piece of ash, with scattered dots around it, as if they were floating debris.
Song Jin stared almost entranced at that spot. A thought surged from distant memories, making him look up at Song Xinglan with disbelief and ask, "Is it..."
Before Song Jin could say what it was, Song Xinglan replied, "Yes."
Song Xinglan's tattoo was Song Jin's birthmark.
When Song Jin was born, he had a faint birthmark on the back of his neck, barely visible unless looked at closely. When they were young and bathed together, Song Xinglan noticed the birthmark and said, "Gege, you have dirt here."
"That's not dirt," the nanny overseeing their bath said with a smile. "That's your brother's birthmark."
It was then that Song Jin first heard about his birthmark. Curious, he turned to the nanny and asked, "What's a birthmark?"
The nanny thought for a moment before saying, "It's a small black spot on your skin."
Song Jin immediately felt a bit repulsed and frowned, saying, "That sounds ugly."
After their bath, Song Jin lay on the bed, feeling unhappy. After thinking for a while, he asked Song Xinglan, "What does my birthmark look like?"
Song Xinglan looked seriously at the back of his neck. But, being so young, he couldn't describe it clearly. So he said, "It's like something burned by fire, whoosh, all at once."
Song Jin felt even more unhappy, burying his head in his arms and muttering, "It must be ugly."
After a while, Song Xinglan was silent. Children's emotions pass quickly. Song Jin began to come to terms with it. He lifted his head and said, "Never mind. I can't see it anyway."
Song Xinglan didn't reply. Song Jin saw him kneeling beside the bed, concentrating on drawing.
"What are you drawing?" Song Jin asked.
Song Xinglan continued to brush strokes on the paper, then lifted it up to show Song Jin. "I'm drawing your birthmark!"
The drawing skills were still immature. The finished product made Song Jin's birthmark look a hundred times uglier. But Song Jin remembered laughing happily at the time and said, "You're lying. It couldn’t be this ugly."
"It’s not ugly," Song Xinglan looked at his own drawing and commented, "I just didn't draw it well."
Children often forget things easily. As they grew up, the birthmark on the back of Song Jin's neck faded away completely. Song Jin hadn't thought about that birthmark for years, nor about how his brother had once tried to draw it, albeit poorly.
But Song Xinglan remembered. He remembered that vague mark. Eighteen years later, he tattooed the faded birthmark from his brother's skin onto his own.
Why did he do that?
Song Jin felt like he knew the answer but dared not confirm it because it was too heavy, pressing upon the immutable line of blood ties. It weighed on him just as heavily as when he realised the truth within himself. All he knew was, it was over.
They were both over, and had been over for a long time.
A hand interrupted Song Jin's thoughts. Song Xinglan pressed down on the back of Song Jin's neck, pushing him downward. Simultaneously, something brushed against the corner of Song Jin's mouth through his underwear. Song Xinglan whispered softly, "You’re done looking? Time for something else."
Song Jin knew he really should be doing this ‘something else’. But the problem was, he didn't know how.
"I don't know how..." Song Jin bit his lip, feeling embarrassed as he turned away. "I've never done this before..."
"I know." Song Xinglan gripped Song Jin's hand and pulled down his waistband. His stiff, hot dick almost slapped directly onto Song Jin's face. Song Xinglan said, "You can learn now."
Song Jin didn't know why he had to learn this. It wasn't until he struggled to lick and swallow around Song Xinglan’s dick that he even considered the question. Song Xinglan just stared at his face, pinched his earlobe, and said, "Ge, you learn things quickly."
It wasn't exactly a compliment that could be put on the table. With his mouth full and a tattoo looming close in his vision, Song Jin awkwardly blushed and whimpered. Tears welled up in his eyes, feeling like his head was filled with paste.
In the end, Song Xinglan ejaculated on Song Jin's right cheek. The semen dripped down to his chin. It was a scene both lewd and sensual. But Song Jin's expression was too awkward and bewildered. Song Xinglan wiped the semen off Song Jin’s face with his fingertips. Then, without a word, he changed positions and pressed Song Jin beneath him.
Song Jin reached up to touch his own face. He hesitated for a moment before saying, "Xinglan... could you be gentler?"
"Okay." Song Xinglan responded. He then stretched out his hand to open the bedside drawer, taking out a bottle of lubricant.
Song Jin asked, "When did you…-"
The lube was probably bought during those first few days when Song Xinglan had just moved in, or maybe these days after he had dealt with Song Xiangping and returned again. This was Song Jin’s guess.
But Song Xinglan said, "Before you moved in."
If Song Jin had moved into the master bedroom instead of the guest room, he would definitely have discovered this bottle earlier, and he would have realised sooner what ambitions his younger brother truly harboured.
As he stretched Song Jin’s asshole, Song Xinglan kept staring at Song Jin's face. His eyes were filled with undisguised desire, yet also seeming to assess something. There was a strong sense of restraint in him. Finally, Song Jin covered his eyes and said, "Stop looking at me."
"Then who should I look at?" Song Xinglan asked him.
When he said this, his fingers brushed against a certain part inside Song Jin. It caused Song Jin to tense his waist immediately, gasping uncontrollably and letting out a cry. He forgot about covering Song Xinglan's eyes and instead gripped his shoulders, saying, "Don’t..."
Song Xinglan lowered his head to kiss him. He then said, "The sound you just made, it sounded like the meow you made this morning."
"Make that sound again. Let me hear it."
At this moment, Song Jin not only wanted to cover his eyes but also to silence him.
"...I want to do it myself," Song Jin suddenly said.
Song Xinglan raised an eyebrow in surprise and asked him, "By yourself?"
"Yeah."
Song Xinglan looked amused, "Because of the injury on my hand?"
Song Jin silently picked up the tie from the pillow beside him and said, "It's because your gaze is too frightening."
He tied the tie around Song Xinglan's eyes, securing it. Song Xinglan didn't react much, allowing Song Jin to cover his eyes. Then, he kissed Song Jin's corner of the mouth and said, "I can still see you, you know."
Song Jin pressed down on his eyes and said, "You're lying."
They changed positions again, with Song Jin straddling Song Xinglan's waist. Unable to see his eyes, Song Jin felt less pressure. He tentatively grasped Song Xinglan’s dick and slowly rubbed it against his buttock cleft. But it was still difficult. Song Jin took a few breaths. He felt he was at his utmost relaxation. Yet he could only manage to insert a little bit.
Song Xinglan remained silent. His eyes were covered by the tie, revealing only the excellent lines of his lower face. His hands caressed and kneaded Song Jin's thighs until Song Jin's stamina waned. He groaned with unstable breath. Only then did Song Xinglan embrace his waist, pressed his brother downwards slightly, and pushed his hips up. He concluded, "You can't do it yourself."
With lubricant, his dick gradually squeezed in. The shirt slid up to his elbows, and Song Jin couldn't escape being pinned at the waist. He clutched Song Xinglan's arm tightly. He stuttered, "You... Go slower..."
Unexpectedly, Song Xinglan sat up straight, pushed Song Jin back, and forcefully pressed down. With the change in movement, his dick thrusted deeply. When Song Jin collapsed on the bed, Song Xinglan pushed forward forcefully once more. Song Jin, caught off guard, cried out. His neck arched as he gasped urgently. Even though Song Xinglan's eyes were covered, Song Jin still felt his gaze intensely fixed on him, making it hard to breathe.
From this moment on, everything spiralled out of control. All of Song Xinglan's previously suppressed desires and emotions were released in an instant. Gripping Song Jin's shoulders, he thrust vigorously, denying him any chance to catch his breath. Song Jin cried tears within moments, not from pain but from the overwhelming sensation—swollen and sore. His hands grasped the bed aimlessly, finding nothing to hold on to. He was utterly lost and unsure where to look. The tie dangled before his eyes as Song Xinglan leaned down to kiss his lips.
The end of the tie tied around Song Xinglan’s eyes fell down, brushing lightly against Song Jin’s neck as they moved. It felt smooth and slightly cool against his skin.
Song Jin felt like he was making love with a third person. In reality, the first lunatic couldn't be counted as making love at all. That was just shameful pain. The second was the amnesiac Song Xinglan. But at that time, Song Jin couldn't find true reassurance with him because he was always afraid he would sober up. Later events confirmed Song Jin's fears were justified. Dreams always had to end.
So perhaps now was the most genuine, where he didn't have to worry anymore.
Song Xinglan gripped Song Jin's waist, thrusting in repeatedly without saying a word. He was just breathing heavily, like an insatiable beast. Overwhelmed by the surging pleasure and fierce impacts, Song Jin clung to Song Xinglan's neck, saying, "Do you remember what you promised me?"
"I remember," Song Xinglan replied softly.
Blindfolded, he still found Song Jin's lips accurately and kissed him.
You promised to stay true to your words.
Song Jin had said this to both the amnesiac and sober Song Xinglan. And for each time, he received a definite answer. However, perhaps it was only at this moment that Song Jin felt he truly got his answer.
Later, through tear-stained eyes, Song Jin raised his hand and untied the tie from Song Xinglan's face. Though his younger brother was dominant and dangerous, Song Jin was accustomed to seeing his eyes. Some things might still be unspeakable. But he could always find traces of the emotions in their gazes.
Regarding the tie that had originally been tied around Song Xinglan's eyes, later, when Song Jin broke down in shame, crying that he couldn't cum, Song Xinglan had tied it around Song Jin's dick and said, "Then don't cum."
***
It was late at night. Exhausted, Song Jin lay face down on the bed while Song Xinglan got up to the bathroom to run hot water. He then held him and brought him over to join him in sinking into the bathtub.
Song Xinglan rested his hands on the edge of the tub while Song Jin leaned against him from behind. Steam rose around them, blurring the bruised marks and hickeys on their skin. They didn't speak. They just quietly stayed together.
Song Xinglan didn't speak because he generally didn't talk much. Song Jin didn't speak because after four to five times of being fucked, he had no strength left. If he hadn't finally sobbed and pleaded that he couldn't continue, he might have collapsed unconscious on the bed. Now, he just wanted to lie down and sleep.
"What about the sheets?" After a long silence, Song Jin asked weakly with his eyes closed.
"I'll send them to be washed," Song Xinglan replied.
"Forget it." The sheets were a mess of marks from them having sex. Song Jin couldn't bear to send them out to be cleaned. In a hoarse voice, he said, "I'll wash them."
Song Xinglan said, "Then throw them away."
"They're expensive." Song Jin half-opened his eyes, turning to glance at Song Xinglan with a hint of reproach.
"Let Grapefruit wash them," Song Xinglan decided finally.
Song Jin pursed his lips and smiled, saying, "Then you wake Grapefruit up early tomorrow to wash the sheets."
"Mm." Song Xinglan kissed the corner of his eye.
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*Author’s Note:
Song Xinglan: I know my brother still has concerns. So I showed him my tattoo. It moved him, didn't it?
-McChicken
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*Translator’s Note: Well, SXL knows well how to soften SJ’s heart. Heh. -K
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