Xia Liu Yi suddenly woke from his dream. Before his eyes was the rusted bed frame of the upper bunk; in his ears, the overlapping snores of his cellmates.
He Chu San’s warm breath still lingered in his mind. His fingertips seemed to still wander across his body, igniting flickers of heat. With every breath, his body grew heavier, hotter; his half-aroused lower body pressed against the cold, hard blanket.
He lay silent in the darkness for a moment. The arm hanging outside the blanket slowly lifted, trembling slightly as it slipped beneath the covers, disappearing into his underwear.
He had never touched himself like this before.
Before meeting He Chu San, desire had been something filthy to him—something that made him nauseous. When he was eighteen, he had once rushed alone into a dead-end alley with twin blades to save someone, carving his way through blood. The person he saved slapped him across the face. He was startled to see tears in that person’s eyes.
That very night, lying in the hospital, he had a dream: the person, crying, leaned down to kiss him; warm palms covered his eyes. He woke from that gentle kiss, only to find himself aroused for the first time in his life.
From that moment on, alongside that filth and revulsion, there grew a deep self-loathing.
Whenever he woke again from such dreams, he would burn himself with cigarette tips, slap himself hard in front of a mirror, even strike that vulnerable part of his body with heavy objects—biting down on a towel to stifle his screams, writhing in pain—until he could no longer dream of being close to that person, until he could no longer feel any desire at all.
It was He Chu San who rekindled his body.
With a clean and pure soul, he embraced him—entered him with burning heat—brought him into a paradise of pleasure, and used warmth to wash away the rot and filth of his body.
In the darkness, he slowly touched himself, repeating the lingering sensations left behind by He Chu San. The man’s low, impassioned breaths seemed to wind through his mind like molten lava, scorching his awareness.
He could feel He Chu San’s warm, wet lips and tongue moving along the trembling roots of his thighs, tracing the veins of his organ. The other knew every sensitive place that made him shiver, controlled every pause and hitch of his breathing, every tremor, every startled cry, every drawn-out sigh.
“Damn it…” he let out a hoarse breath.
Before his eyes was He Chu San’s focused, deep gaze—burning with desire. In the soft moonlight, the man rose over him. He felt that heavy warmth pressing down on his body. He opened his mouth and took in He Chu San’s lips; the other’s cool nose brushed gently against his cheek; their lips, connected by silken threads, parted softly; his earlobe was nibbled, drawn into hot lips.
His organ secreted thin fluid, dampening his palm. The quickening movements produced soft, wet sounds. His eyes were closed, lips parted slightly, his body trembling uncontrollably.
But such touch was still far from enough.
For a long time, he could not reach release. He Chu San flickered in and out of his mind—he saw that faint smile at the corner of his lips, his gentle face lowering. His thighs trembled and spread wider; his entrance was licked and kissed, wet and warm. He felt an itch and yearning rising from deep within his body.
Helplessly, he let out a low, stifled moan. Adjusting his posture, he yanked off the jade Buddha from around his neck and brought it into his mouth, already slick with saliva. His tongue worked over it, quickly coating it in moisture.
“Thinking of me—and got hard?” the voice murmured, low and heated, kissing his ear in the darkness.
“What did you do when you thought of me?”
“Did you ever touch yourself here?”
“Damn… brat…” he breathed hoarsely again, his nose twitching like a cat’s whimper.
The only thing left on him that belonged to He Chu San entered his body. The jade was cool and smooth, yet slightly dry as it pressed at the entrance. His fingers moved in confusion over himself, smearing fluid along the half-inserted jade, pressing gently at its end.
His body, long unaccustomed to intrusion, resisted stubbornly. He gasped and relaxed, imagining He Chu San’s body entering him bit by bit—until at last it slipped fully inside, leaving only the cord outside.
He tugged lightly at the thin cord, the jade shifting within him, obstructed by the tightening contractions of his body. Unable to bear it, he drew his legs together slightly.
He must have “hurt” He Chu San, for the breath lingering at his ear deepened. Then those imagined hands parted his legs, entering deeper and harder—
He tightened around the two fingers suddenly thrust inside him, turning his head to bite down on the cloth, his breathing breaking apart.
The fingers pushed the jade deeper, curling slightly, exploring along the inner walls—just like He Chu San exploring him—until they found that sensitive spot, pressing against it deliberately.
A maddening surge of pleasure exploded through his lower body.
He frowned tightly, mouth open in silent cries, hearing He Chu San’s soft laughter by his ear.
“Brother Liu Yi, you’re wet.”
He could no longer suppress the trembling of his lower body. He was fully aroused, pressed against his abdomen beneath the blanket, twitching.
He truly felt the wetness—slick fluid flowing along the jade Buddha, dampening the fingers with which he touched himself.
“Touch it,” the voice whispered.
“Inside you… it’s shaped like me.”
The thrusting quickened. Sticky, wet sounds filled the air, each motion accompanied by soft, slick noises, while fireworks exploded one after another in his mind. He was on the verge of being unable to endure it—yet as if under a spell, he could not bring himself to stop.
His other hand moved to pinch and play with his nipple. He Chu San’s lips closed over it, biting and tugging with deliberate cruelty, kneading and pulling. He trembled, curling his chest inward; no matter how he tried to evade, those lips clung to him, sucking and worrying at him relentlessly, refusing to let go.
“You’re so hot inside.”
“Stay like this… hold me like this for a lifetime, alright?”
“Let me release inside, okay? Then you’ll be filled with me.”
“D-damn it…”
Pleasure surged from both front and back all at once. He abruptly let go of his nipple, grasped his own organ, and drove his hand up and down a few harsh strokes. Behind, his body clenched tightly around the fingers within.
Stillness. Trembling. Rough, heavy breaths. A muffled moan pressed into the pillow.
The sound of his breathing gradually subsided.
After a long silence, he lifted his face from the pillow. Expressionless, he slowly withdrew his fingers, then reached back to the entrance, feeling for the thin cord, pulling the jade Buddha out bit by bit.
The communal restroom in the dead of night was empty. The dripping of water echoed softly in the sinks. Quietly, beneath that steady trickle, he washed the jade Buddha, then put it back around his neck.
Moonlight spilled in through the high window. He raised his still-trembling hands into that water-like glow, staring at his empty palms.
He had never once been in control of his own fate.
I miss you.
Author’s Note: This extra takes place early in the main story timeline, when Xia Liu Yi was first imprisoned in Stanley Prison.
Futile Devices Scans 
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