My Doomsday Bodyguard Wants a Raise novel · Chapter 3 of 24
Chapter 3: Tomato Vines
On the roof farm at night, with the fire still in both of them, Bai Jin and Gong Ting finally do it, standing up, angry and afraid, and Gong Ting asks for a raise afterward.
The roof farm was the only place in the Fuyuan where Bai Jin could stand under the sky and not count.
He went up at midnight with a bottle of cooking oil in his pocket, which he did not examine too closely.
The tomatoes hung in the long plastic hoop house, red and green on their strings.
The air inside was warm and sharp with leaf smell.
He sat on an upturned crate between two rows and put his hands between his knees.
They shook anyway.
Boots came up the stairwell, slow and heavy.
He did not turn around.
"You're supposed to be in the guardroom," he said.
"You're supposed to be asleep."
"Nobody sleeps in my building."
"Fair." Gong Ting stopped at the end of the row, a dark shape against the stars. "You left something on the cabinet."
"What?"
"Me."
Bai Jin laughed.
It came out wrong, high and cracked, and he put his hand over his mouth.
"I'm your employer," he said. "I pay your wages. This is a conflict of interest."
"Then it's overtime."
"It isn't overtime," said Bai Jin. "I said no nights."
"I'm here at midnight on my own time."
Gong Ting came down the row.
"You're sitting in a tomato house with a bottle of oil in your pocket, Boss. I can see the label."
Bai Jin took the bottle out and looked at it.
It said SUNFLOWER, BEST BEFORE two years ago.
He stood up on legs that did not work well.
"Take off your jacket," he said.
Gong Ting took it off and hung it on a string.
"Shirt."
The shirt came off over his head.
The bandage showed white in the dark.
The rest of him was solid and scarred and broad, a chest and shoulders that had never been built in any gym.
Bai Jin put both hands flat on the heat of it.
He felt Gong Ting go very still under his palms.
"I was frightened last night," Bai Jin said, to the middle of the chest. "On the sniper walk. I'm not going to say it again."
"I know."
"Don't tell me you know."
"Then I won't." Gong Ting's hand came up and cupped the back of his neck, huge and warm. "Turn around."
"Don't give me orders."
"Under fire, my word." There was almost a smile in it. "It's the rule."
"There's no fire."
"Yes there is," said Gong Ting. "Turn around, Boss."
Bai Jin turned around.
He braced both hands on the wooden frame of the hoop house and let his head drop.
The tomato vines brushed his cheek, cool and prickly and smelling of green.
Gong Ting's hands went round his waist, found the buckle, and dragged his trousers and shorts down to his knees.
The night air was cold on his bare ass.
It lasted a very short time.
A broad palm covered one cheek and squeezed, and Bai Jin made a sound he would not have admitted to.
"Oil," said Gong Ting.
Bai Jin passed the bottle back without turning his head.
He heard the cap and a long pour.
Then a thick finger pressed between his cheeks, slick and slow, circling the tight hole until it opened.
"Breathe out."
"I know how," said Bai Jin, and then the finger was inside him and he forgot the sentence.
It went in to the knuckle.
It turned, drew back, and pressed in again with a second finger beside it, stretching him, and his forehead dropped against his own arm.
"Is it good?"
"It's adequate."
The fingers curled.
"Is it good?"
"Fuck. Yes. Yes, it's good, don't stop doing that."
"Not stopping," said Gong Ting, in a voice that had gone rough as gravel.
He worked his fingers in and out until Bai Jin was pushing back against them, trembling, and then he took them away.
Bai Jin heard the zip.
He heard a long slow stroke of oil along something heavy.
Then the blunt head of a cock settled against his hole and stayed there, waiting.
"Say it," said Gong Ting.
"Say what?"
"What you want."
"I want you to fuck me," said Bai Jin, to the vines.
"I want it now, and I don't want you to be careful. Is that clear enough for the sergeant?"
"It's clear."
Gong Ting pushed in.
It was thick and slow and it did not stop, a long burning stretch that filled him.
Bai Jin's fingers went white on the frame.
"Oh, you..." he said. "Oh, fuck, you're huge, that's not fair."
"Breathe."
"I'm trying," said Bai Jin.
"Try harder."
He pulled back an inch and pushed in again, deeper, and the hoop house creaked.
Bai Jin heard himself beg.
He had never begged anyone for anything in his life.
"More. Harder. Please, Gong Ting, I need it, don't stop."
The hands on his hips tightened.
Then Gong Ting began to fuck him properly, hard and deep, each stroke driving Bai Jin's body up on his toes.
The wooden frame knocked.
The strings swung and the tomatoes bumped against each other, and the smell of crushed leaf rose all around them.
Bai Jin lost track of the sky.
He felt the scarred arm come round his chest.
The whole warm length of Gong Ting folded over his back, with a mouth against his shoulder, then teeth, then a groan.
"You've been," said Gong Ting, thrusting, "making me crazy. For eight months."
"Good."
"You walk past my gate in that vest," said Gong Ting.
"I know."
"You count my guards by name and you never look at me."
"I look at you all the time!" Bai Jin gasped. "Don't stop, don't you dare stop, I'm going to..."
A big hand wrapped around his cock and pulled in time with the thrusts.
It took four more strokes.
Bai Jin came with a shout he bit off against his own forearm.
He spilled over Gong Ting's fist and the dirt floor, his whole body clenching.
Gong Ting followed him a moment later, buried to the root, groaning into his neck.
Neither of them moved for a long time.
When Gong Ting slid out, Bai Jin's knees gave way, and the big man caught him and lowered him gently onto the crate.
He wiped Bai Jin's belly with his own shirt.
He did up Bai Jin's trousers with an odd, clumsy care.
Bai Jin let him, and discovered that he was shaking again, all over, and that this time he did not care who saw.
Gong Ting knelt in front of him and put both hands over both of his.
He did not say anything.
That was the worst of it, how kind it was.
"Raise," said Gong Ting, eventually, looking up.
Bai Jin stared at him.
"You are fired," he said.
"That's a no, then."
Bai Jin opened his mouth to say what kind of no it was.
Out beyond the wall, in the dark, the bell on the east tower rang three times.
Three strokes meant Stadium colors on the road.
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