The activity center at Taipei Central University, with its weathered brick facade and sprawling palm trees, has been the home to decades of student life in the city’s and in Taiwan’s eventful history. Inside, the student newspaper office buzzed with energy. Around the large conference table, editors argued, debated, and pitched ideas for the first summer issue of 2010.
“What about the Tainan University student who had attempted to take his own life for love? We can travel to that university and interview that student’s cohort,” someone else in.
“Too far away,” the organizer replied, his tone dismissive. “How would we even get interviews? Who cares about Tainan?”
The room fell silent for a moment. Then Fan Chih-wei, the editor-in-chief, leaned forward, his sharp eyes scanning the group. He had the kind of face that made people sit up straighter. He was a little intimidating.
“I have an idea,” he said, his voice cutting through the chatter. “College bi guys and the sex they are having.”
The room went quiet. The editors exchanged uneasy glances.
“The rough, quick and dirty sex the bros are having with each other,” he adds.
Fan smirked. “Yeah! It’s taboo and a hot topic, at least ever since Brokeback Mountain!”
“That’s… controversial,” one editor admitted, his voice hesitant. “Isn’t that smut, and who’s going to handle it?”
Fan’s gaze landed on Chang Junhao, a freshman editor with short, messy hair and a look of wide-eyed determination. “Junhao,” Fan said, his tone final. “You’ll take the lead. And for making sure we are tasteful and respectable to the funders, let’s be euphemistic and stay classy.”
Junhao blinked, surprised. He hadn’t expected to be singled out. “Me?”
“Yes, you,” Fan replied, leaning back in his chair. “You’re new. You’re fresh. You don’t have a girlfriend yet, do you?”
Junhao shook his head, his cheeks flushing. “No, sir. I’ve only been in college for two months.”
“Good,” Fan said, his smile widening. “You are single and not distracted by the demands of having a partner. That’s exactly why you’re perfect for this. It’d be… just right.”
Fan thought, it takes a kind of inexperienced, innocent and sweet guy to get bi closeted guys to open up.
Junhao nodded, his heart racing. “Yes, sir.”
Junhao’s friend Kitty tipped Junhao off about the school park, particularly the place colloquially called sex garden by naughty students. She said that the chances of meeting gay male students – her tribe – there at night aren’t actually that high.
“You’d be surprised,” Kitty would emphasize, to know that the closeted guys and the out guys lead very different lives. Kitty gave Junhao’s shoulders and pecs a nonchalant yet objectifying thumbs-up as she was sizing him, up and down.
“Junhao, my little one, my sources tell me that openly gay university students would not go to this park as there may still be straight men taking their girlfriends here. The students go to the arts studio showers and the old non-students cruise here. In recent years though, I hear that the closeted bi guys are on the west side of the garden. And they are cruising for gay sex! Hun, you have to be aloof and street-smart there, so you don’t look a deer caught in headlights. Break eye-contact and walk swiftly away, until you find a bush to hide and observe from afar. It’s too bad I can only tell you so much for your little project. Even I know whatever I have is just full-on a wannabe girl gay-mayor’s little cruising book of knowledge. All of this is to say, c’est la vie – get out there and get some experiences!”
Junhao let out a nervous little moan.
***
The next evening, Junhao stood in the heart of Taipei Central University, in the tranquil ‘Uni Phys Ed Park’. The Taiwan Provincial Junior College of Physical Education opened in June 1961, the first school in Taiwan focused only on sports. At the center of its garden stood the tomb of Principal Tsiung, a Taiwanese patriot whose leadership shaped the school.
His memorial plaque was carefully placed beside a row of trees, their branches swaying gently in the breeze, while vibrant flowers bloomed in an orderly display. The arrangement, harmonious and dignified, symbolized the respect and reverence the community held for his legacy. Junhao straightened up walking past it.
Principal Tsiung grew up under Japanese rule and believed a strong body was key to survival. He was 170 cm, an average height for men of his time, and broad-shouldered, with powerful arms and a firm stance that made people respect him. He was highly regarded as an educator with a strong grasp of how to bring upon cohesion and harmony for the Taiwanese locals, the benshengren, and the incoming KMT-affiliated students from across mainland coastal cities, the waishengren.
He taught his students to build their strength through hard work and training, saying it was as important as learning in class. During his time, Taiwan’s culture celebrated men who were fit and tough. Physical training was seen as a way to form a proud national identity.
The school garden reflected these ideas. It was not just a peaceful place but also a space where men’s strength was on display. The college hired healthy strong men as arborists and landscapers, believing their vigor helped the garden thrive.
Students often trained in this park, running laps and lifting weights under the banyan trees. Many believed Principal Tsiung’s spirit watched over them, urging them to push harder and, on the rare special occasion, to celebrate their hard trophy bodies by wearing revealing tank tops. His legacy was not one where men of Sodom were frolicking under the blazing sun. His legacy was more gentlemen, with a college sensibility. Very homo-social focused.
The scent of osmanthus flowers in the evening is always an aphrodisiac. The sweet scent drifted through the air, the evening warm breeze that tingled Junhao’s balls.
The university was not just a place of education—it was a symbol of the values that had shaped Taiwan’s elite for generations.
In the dark, Junhao spotted cranes at rest, the only time the campus wasn’t busy building lavish monuments. There are always building advancements on campus, and the city’s infrastructure is improving. Junhao thought about how his relatives who had been here just years ago may fail to recognize this place. Many of the university’s wealthiest donors had ties to the old Kuomintang, their names attached to the very buildings they funded. Junhao found it strange that the university, once a beacon of inclusivity, physical excellence, and intellectual camaraderie, seemed to be shifting. It had become more of a playground for corporate interests, reinforcing superficial cultural norms dictated by a fleeting and turbulent market.
Junhao went back to thinking about the men. These men who worked on campus, with well-defined arms and tanned skin kissed bronze by the relentless Taipei summer sun, worked with a rhythmic grace that echoed the pulse of the island itself. The garden desired the yang vitality of these men. The earth itself was nourished not only by their labor but by the strength of their bodies, the power of their spirit.
Lost in thought, Junhao became startled when he heard two guards – one man, one woman – pull down up the partition rod from the ground. It was almost as if one of the guards saw him in the bush, Junhao sensed. Suddently, Junhao felt not only out of place but feel defeated by this journalism project. And very nervous.
All of a sudden, Junhao felt a bump on his right side, jolting him slightly. He turned to see Dejun, his broad frame outlined in the dim light, a grin spreading across his face.
“Dejun!” Junhao called out, surprised but pleased.
“Hey, Junhao,” Dejun said, his voice warm and casual, though his grin lingered like he enjoyed being caught off guard.
Junhao glanced up at him, feeling his cheeks flush faintly. “Didn’t see you there.”
Dejun chuckled, a low, easy sound. “Guess I gotta stop bulldozing people,” he grinned, reached out his muscular arm with showmanship and then patted Junhao’s shoulder lightly before stepping back. “You good, man?”
“Yeah, yeah. You?”
“Better now. Hey going to get a snack—” Dejun said, his tone bright, like he wanted to linger but wasn’t quite sure how to make it happen.
“Now?” Junhao asked, half-hopeful.
“Nah, not now. I’m headed to practice.” Dejun motioned toward the gym bag slung over his shoulder, his fingers tightening briefly on the strap like it was a tether. “But soon, for real.”
Junhao smiled, nodding. “Right. Basketball’s keeping you busy, huh?”
Dejun hesitated for a moment, his grin softening into something quieter. “Yeah. Gotta stay on top of it. You know how it is—discipline and all that.” He paused, then added, almost as an afterthought, “How about you? What’s going on?”
“Pretty good. Been getting my work done, and my family’s doing okay,” Junhao said, testing the waters. “My sister’s starting next semester—she’s enrolled full-time and my parents are so proud. I heard that my mom has been spending every day talking to my sister in the last little while, being proud and supportive and asking questions about campus. My dad is excited and proud as well.”
Dejun’s eyebrows lifted, the faintest flicker of curiosity crossing his face. “No kidding? That’s cool. Family’s important, man.” His tone had shifted slightly—gentler, almost protective, like he’d tapped into some deeper part of himself he didn’t show often.
“Yeah, she’s excited.”
Dejun nodded, his gaze briefly distant before snapping back to Junhao. “Anyway, I’ll catch you soon, okay?” He gave Junhao a quick, easy smile and a pat on the arm before heading toward the gym, his strides purposeful but unhurried.
As Junhao watched him go, he wondered what it was about Dejun—something steady, almost grounding, but layered with a kind of longing he couldn’t quite place.
Just like that, Dejun walked briskly into the dark.
Junhao was now left in the dimly lit garden.
Junhao thought to himself, I am going to wait three more minutes and then I’m going to give it a rest today. At least I spoke with a friendly face and know that… uhh, these darn older men are into my cute self heh.
Within two minutes, Junhao caught wind of something.
“Be very quiet,” Dejun whispered.
It must be Dejun, right?
Junhao confirmed that he was full out of sight from the main path and fully covered in the bush. He squinted and saw Dejun on a nearby patch of grass between a boulder and a bush, his shirt buttoned all the way down, his chest reflective in the moonlight.
The girl next to him is Weiwei from my history class!!!
Dejun spread out a large towel on the grass and sat down. Then, gently holding Weiwei by the hips, he guided her to sit down as well.
“Come on, sit,” he said softly.
“Alright!” Weiwei responded, leaning into his arms with a smile.
This is scandalous!!!
They kissed, their passion intensifying as Weiwei wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Mmm,” she murmured.
“Let’s go to your place,” Dejun said.
Weiwei hesitated. “No way! We’ve only known each other for a month. This is already pushing it. If I let you… you might lose respect for me. Guys don’t treasure things they get too easily.”
Sensing a hint of hesitation in her voice, Dejun interjected quickly, “I’ll be careful. I promise.”
Dejun’s mind began to wander, beginning to want something special, something forbidden.
He heard his inside voice, “How the hell do you explain to someone that you think you want … a certain kind of dynamic. To be put in place. To be held, or just the idea of being in the private company of someone bigger, stronger, more…dominant, who is always there? Always there.”
His eyes never left Weiwei’s face.
“No!” Weiwei’s tone turned firm in a delayed response, and her expression darkened. “I said no!”
Dejun fell silent, watching her storm off toward the station. He sighed, feeling defeated, and turned to head back to his dorm.
As he walked, a stocky man in his thirties suddenly appeared and stopped him.
“Hey, you! Come here for a second,” the man said, flashing a badge. “I’m with campus security. I saw what you were up to back there.”
Dejun froze, his face turning pale. “What? I—”
“Follow me,” the man ordered, grabbing Dejun’s arm and pulling him toward the campus gate.
“Wait, I—” Dejun struggled weakly, but the man shot him a cold glare.
“Do you want me to use handcuffs?”
Shit.
Dejun, intimidated, stopped resisting and allowed himself to be dragged along.
“You’ve violated school rules,” the man continued sternly. “You could face serious consequences—major demerits or even expulsion. Do you understand?”
“I… I didn’t mean to—” Dejun stammered.
“But,” the man interrupted, leaning in closer, “I can help you out.”
“What do you mean?”
The man smirked. “Let’s just say, if you’re willing to… cooperate, we can forget this whole thing happened.”
Dejun’s stomach churned. “Cooperate? What are you talking about?”
“Exactly what you and your girlfriend were doing earlier,” the man said with a twisted grin. “Do that with me, and this all goes away.”
Dejun recoiled, his face a mix of fear and disgust matching that of Junhao’s in the dark.
The man dragged him toward a secluded area near the gate, out of Junhao’s view. Just as Dejun felt trapped, a voice boomed from behind them.
“Hey! What’s going on here?”
A tall, authoritative man in his forties strode over. His presence was commanding, and the first man immediately backed off, muttering something under his breath before fleeing the scene.
Dejun must be traumatized because now, he looks exhausted!
Dejun collapsed onto the grass, trembling. The taller man crouched down beside him, his voice gentle. “Are you alright? Don’t worry, I’m with campus security. You’re safe now.”
At this point, Junhao’s belly was growling. Enough for today, Junhao thought as his head pounded due to the excess of stimuli.
Dejun, tears streaming down his face, recounted the ordeal. The man listened patiently, his expression growing darker with each word.
“That wasn’t one of ours,” he said firmly. “We don’t have anyone like that on the force. And for the record, what you and your girlfriend did wasn’t against any rules.”
Dejun broke down, breathing out of rhythm. The man offered him a pat on Dejun’s shoulder.
The memory of his roommate’s voice strangely appeared, grounding him: “You don’t have to make it a thing yet. Or you can go set up a very specific circumstance, bro…”
“Come on, I’ll walk you home,” he said.
Dejun nodded weakly, leaning on the man for support as they made their way to his dorm.
Once there, the man insisted on checking the place to ensure it was safe. As Dejun stood awkwardly in the living room, the man turned to him with a strange smile.
“Did you enjoy yourself earlier?”
Dejun froze. “What…?”
The man’s demeanor shifted abruptly, his face twisting into something sinister. “That little show was just the warm-up,” he sneered. “Now it’s time for the main event.”
Dejun’s heart pounded as the man advanced toward him. Acting on pure instinct, he bolted into his bedroom, slamming the door shut and pushing hard against it.
Outside, the man began pushing hard on the door, his voice taunting. “You can’t hide, Dejun. Once I get in, I promise you’ll have the time of your life.”
Dejun then did something extraordinary. The strain on his pectorals and arms hurt so good and his member began to swell. His confidence overtook him. He couldn’t explain why he thought this but he wanted to show off his upper body musculature. Then an image of a hunky man tied up and blindfolded flashed before his eyes, and he thought to himself, gosh, I’m kinky.
Distracted, the door inched open, and, Dejun was ready for excitement. He pulled open the door and this phony policeman fell into him ever so slightly. With his phony police hat off and sweat beading across his forehead, this man looked very familiar to Dejun. Familiar or not, Dejun was determined to tear his buttoned-up plaid shirt apart and his hard body was glistening in sweat.
Dejun had wanted to fool around with his cocky jock of a roommate this whole week, but he had been so busy. Dejun was feeling cheeky and thought it’s time to live and tell!
“Let’s flipflop fuck, sexy man,” the policeman said. Dejun and the policeman exchanged grins, Dejun still being a bit more nervous than the policeman.
There is an unspoken program unfolding. The policeman removed his belt and took off his shoes swiftly. In total ease, Dejun feigned a whimper and furrowed his brows and moaned, “oh what’s going to happen next?”
The policeman cupped Dejun’s balls and Dejun snapped confidently, “I didn’t think ‘Big Bro roommate’ would remember my fantas–”
“–shush, you are under my control,” the policeman uttered while yanking downward on Dejun’s heavy balls.
Confident, Dejun said, “my roommate’s brother was looking so handsome when he first caught me. I wish we hadn’t scared him off.”
“We!? Shut up,” the policeman ordered and leaned in for a passionate and domineering kiss.
Getting out of the kiss, Dejun slowly brought his lips to the policeman’s left ear and kissed it ever so gently. It was as though he was signalling that he was a gentle man and a gentle kisser.
The policeman moaned, “oh, babe yes.”
Dejun knew then that ears were his erogenous zone and seized the opportunity, “so, what’s your name?”
“Alright, you earned it. You can call me Dawei.”
The Sinicization of David, as in David and Goliath. “How fitting,” Dejun thought to himself, now sizing David’s muscular body up.
In the time of the kiss, David had taken off his shirt and Dejun was in awe and raw heat, admiring Dawei’s deltoids.
Dejun was in total ecstasy and felt his heavy balls tightened, as Dejun and Dawei rhythmically dry hump each other. Unfiltered and uninhibited, Dejun blurted, “I wonder how hot it would be for my roommate’s brother, Weiwei and Junhao to see me get the cum fucked out of him right now.”
In that exact moment, the quickened pace came to a crescendo and Dejun cried out, “I’m close! I’m close!”
Dawei eased the rhythm and unbuckled his belt. Quickly, he pulled down Dejun’s pants and white briefs, salivating at the sight of Dejun’s pink 17 cm hard cock. Dejun crowed, “oooh I’m so horny Dawei.”
Dejun was turned around. He felt a warm slick stretch of flesh on his left ankle and a warm flickering tongue on his asshole.
“Fuck!”
In a while, the policeman Dawei stood up and slapped his thick uncut cock onto Dejun’s ass.
The policeman’s pump pleasured Dejun’s swollen prostate right into an orgasm. A mutual ejaculation between the two men.
“Fuckkkk,” Dejun moaned. “I love this. Please come again.”
**
The morning brings a soothing breeze from the mouth of the Tamsui River, coming southbound and upriver into the valley. Junhao had very vivid dreams all night, dreams of ropes and moans and pleasure. During Junhao’s breakfast date with Kitty, Junhao whispered what he had seen last night, while in line for hot soy milk: “I didn’t sleep that well last night. You know, Kitty, I know now why the out gay guys do not go to the garden…”
