Fake Slackers

Chapter 93: The burden of slackerdom is too heavy

Xie Yu was woken by a noisy electrical sound.

At 6 a.m. in the morning, Mad Dog was already shouting enthusiastically over the broadcast. "The morning is when we are at our most energetic. We can't be lazy! Wake up, all of you. Welcome a new day and new challenges."

"Students, I believe you are all ready!"

Before Mad Dog even finished, the corridor was already growing noisy. "Ready, like hell!"

"This is abuse of the flowers of our homeland!"

"Brothers, don't stop me. I'm climbing up there to cut the cord. I'm taking down this crap broadcast today. Between it and me, only one can live! I can't go on like this."

Xie Yu closed his eyes and rested for a while. He moved to reach for the alarm clock at the head of the bed, even though he usually just ended up throwing it.

When he moved his hand he noticed that he ached all over.

Xie Yu half-opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was He Zhao's profile. Two people in a single bed was a tight squeeze and they had to lie on their sides to make room.

He Zhao had not woken, but his sleep had been disturbed and the arm around Xie Yu's waist tightened reflexively.

Xie Yu's gaze moved downward from his face and landed on the faint red marks on He Zhao's throat. Only now did the memories of last night return, little by little.

......

He had scratched those marks himself.

Xie Yu buried his head in his pillow and closed his eyes again. Images of the previous night played in his mind like a movie.

He had no strong feelings on the subject of who was on top. He was cold by nature and if not for He Zhao—if not for him—Xie Yu might not even have had these sorts of thoughts.

And he had drunk a lot last night. Even though his head had been clear, he had not been in control. He Zhao had held him down and done it to him.

When Mad Dog started on his second topic, He Zhao finally woke up. He scratched his head and whispered, "Morning. What time is it?"

Xie Yu wanted to say, 'Shut up and look for yourself,' but his throat was dry and he couldn't say anything.

He steadied himself and, in the end, said nothing at all. He threw aside the covers and got out of bed. When his bare feet landed on the ground he let out a hiss and breathed in sharply.

He Zhao knew that he had been rather rough last night. But Xie Yu had been stubborn and kept challenging him. "Can you or can you not?"

When He Zhao finally went at it, he couldn't take it. His body had gone taut and he was both reluctant and unwilling when he finally asked for mercy.

At this point, He Zhao half sat up and asked, "Does it still hurt?"

Xie Yu was a little annoyed.

He bent down and picked up the clothes on the floor, one garment at a time. His head ached from a hangover and discomfort enveloped his whole body. "What do you think?"

He Zhao said, "Next time I'll..."

"There is no next time."

Xie Yu pulled the door open and said, "You're too bad at it."

Neither of them had experience. He Zhao had been crude and untried, and he hadn't controlled himself. He had no skill to speak of.

But the emotional thrill outweighed the biological one.