Zhan tried to stand up, but Yibo set down the cup he was holding and looked at him with an expression of surprise. Feeling uneasy under Yibo's gaze, Zhan quickly averted his eyes. Without a word, Yibo pulled him back down onto his lap, wrapping his arms around him from behind. Resting his head near Zhan's ear, Yibo spoke softly, his deep voice making Zhan's heart race.
"Why are you in such a hurry to leave after drinking my milk? Do you even know what that means?" he murmured, his warm breath brushing against Zhan's skin.
Ignoring the suggestive tone, Zhan pretended not to hear, squirming to free himself from Yibo's hold. Instead of letting go, Yibo tightened his grip, pulling Zhan closer. His gaze wandered to Zhan's neck, and he inhaled the faint scent of him, closing his eyes briefly before releasing him with a soft sigh.
Zhan quickly stood, his face taut with irritation. He was embarrassed, not just because he had finished the milk but also because Yibo's teasing words had left him flustered. He knew exactly what Yibo had implied, and it left him both annoyed and self-conscious.
Yibo stood as well, glancing briefly at Zhan's stern expression before turning away. He walked to the sitting room and sank onto the couch, picking up the remote to turn on the TV. Switching to a news channel, he focused on the screen, ignoring Zhan entirely.
Zhan, frustrated and tired of standing, returned to the dining chair, crossing his arms as he waited for Yibo to finish watching TV and take him home. Despite his stern demeanor, his exhaustion was evident in the way he slumped in the chair.
Yibo, for his part, wasn't one for arguments, so he left Zhan alone and continued watching the news. Occasionally glancing at the clock, he noticed the time creep toward 11 p.m. Finally, he turned off the TV and stood, switching off the lights in the sitting room. Without acknowledging Zhan, he headed to his bedroom, leaving Zhan still sitting stubbornly at the table, his tired eyes blinking slowly.
As soon as Yibo entered his room, Zhan dragged himself to the couch in the sitting room, lying down despite knowing it wouldn't be comfortable. His body ached from fatigue, and the lack of his usual nighttime routine-his bath, his change of clothes-made it worse. He closed his eyes, resigned to a restless night.
Yibo returned after his shower, now dressed in a thick rugby-style pajama set. Slipping on his house slippers, he glanced at the wall clock between his master bedroom and the guest bedroom: 11:37 p.m.
Zhan had finally dozed off, though his sleep was troubled and heavy. Hunger gnawed at him, and the fatigue of the day weighed on his features. Yibo looked at him for a long moment, feeling a mix of sympathy and admiration for his stubbornness. Zhan's sharp tongue, though often directed at him, fascinated him in ways he didn't fully understand.
Gently, Yibo bent down and picked him up in his arms, cradling him as he carried him to his bedroom. He carefully set him down on the couch inside the room and began unbuttoning his shirt. Slowly, he removed it, revealing a thin, semi-transparent vest beneath. His gaze lingered momentarily before he forced himself to look away, swallowing hard. Removing Zhan's palazzo trousers, Yibo stood still for a moment, battling the tension rising within him.
After composing himself, Yibo lifted Zhan again and placed him in the center of his bed. He pulled the blanket over him, tucking him in gently. Crossing the room to his mini-fridge, he grabbed a bottle of cold water, took a sip, and then returned to the bed.
Sitting at the edge, he let out a slow breath, his emotions conflicting as he glanced at Zhan's sleeping form. Finally, he lay down beside him, pulling part of the blanket over himself. Reaching out, he turned off the bedroom lights, leaving the room in silence and darkness.
🔹🔸▪️▫️
Yibo slept deeply, barely managing to wake up at dawn. Turning slightly, he glanced at Zhan's face, just inches from his, their breaths mingling in the quiet room. Slowly, Yibo leaned in and kissed Zhan's lips, the feature that captivated him most whenever Zhan spoke. His eyes lingered on the small mole beneath Zhan's bottom lip, a detail he adored nearly as much as Zhan's face itself.
How he wished Zhan-ge would let him kiss or bite that mole, but he had kept such thoughts to himself since their childhood. Even back then, Yibo often found his gaze drawn to Zhan's lips, entertaining silent fantasies. Shaking off his musings, Yibo carefully slipped out from under the blanket, making sure not to wake Zhan, and headed to the bathroom.
By the time Yibo returned, Zhan was still fast asleep. After changing into more comfortable clothes, Yibo climbed back into bed and gently pulled Zhan into his arms, holding him close to his chest. He watched Zhan's peaceful face before reaching out to lightly trace his fingers over Zhan's neck. The soft touch made Zhan stir, sensing the unfamiliar sensation even in his sleep.
Yibo leaned closer, softly blowing warm air against Zhan's ear. That was enough to make Zhan's eyes flutter open, still heavy with sleep, only to land on Yibo's striking face. For a moment, Zhan stared, seemingly unaware of what he was doing.
Yibo raised an eyebrow, silently questioning him with a mischievous smile. In a deep, smooth voice, he said, "Don't worry Zhan-ge. People often fall for me at first sight. You're just lucky-you already have me. Falling for your husband isn't a bad thing. Congratulations."
Zhan's face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and frustration. His irritation swelled at Yibo's teasing tone, and he quickly sat up, his expression cold and composed despite the storm of emotions bubbling beneath the surface.
When Zhan glanced down at himself, he froze. He was dressed in only a vest and boxers. Panicking, he grabbed the blanket to cover himself, unwilling to meet Yibo's gaze. This was the third time Yibo had taken liberties with him like this. It was maddening and humiliating, and it felt like Yibo's audacity grew by the day.
Meanwhile, Yibo lay back down, pulling the blanket over his head as though nothing had happened, his eyes closed in feigned indifference.
Zhan, determined to leave, scanned the room for his clothes but couldn't find them anywhere. Frustration mounted as he realized that the closet, which was on Yibo's side of the room, was out of reach without crossing into his line of sight.
As his gaze fell on the jogging shirt Yibo had discarded earlier, a new wave of discomfort washed over him. He had no choice. His own clothes were nowhere to be seen, and there was no way he would ask Yibo for help. Nor could he stay in just his underwear.
Reluctantly, Zhan walked over and picked up the shirt. It carried Yibo's fresh, clean scent, one that both soothed and annoyed him. Avoiding looking at it too long, Zhan slipped the shirt on, grimacing in irritation as he did. Without another glance at Yibo, he quickly left the room and headed to the sitting room bathroom he had used the previous day, shutting the door behind him with a deep sigh of relief.
When Zhan finished in the bathroom, he returned to the sitting room and sat down, searching through his bag for his phone, which he couldn't find.
Frustration gnawed at him as he rummaged through everything without success. He desperately needed the phone to call Sarah so she could arrange a car to pick him up. Staying even a single day longer here, let alone another night, was out of the question. But the weight of his current situation crushed him further-he couldn't call Granny, Bei, or Wang Dad to complain and ask them to convince Yibo to let him return home.
He absolutely refused to let anyone think that he and Yibo had been alone together, especially overnight. Zhan couldn't bear the shame of such an assumption. He was determined to ensure that no one would ever know they had shared the same space, not now, not ever. That's why calling Sarah was his only way out-she had to come quickly and get him out of this mess before anyone noticed.
But no matter how much he searched, his phone was nowhere to be found. He was certain he had brought it to the house, but it had seemingly vanished.
With no solution in sight, Zhan resigned himself to returning to the sitting room. After making himself a cup of tea and grabbing a few shortbread biscuits, he sat down and ate until he was full. Exhaustion still tugged at him, so he curled up on the couch and closed his eyes, hoping to recover from the stress. Before long, sleep claimed him once again.
🔹🔸▪️▫️
It wasn't until just before 11 a.m. that Zhan finally stirred awake. Slowly, he sat up, feeling aches in his body from the awkward position he had slept in on the couch. Glancing at the clock, he groaned quietly and forced himself to stand. Dragging his feet, he went to the bathroom, relieved himself, washed his face, and emerged feeling slightly refreshed but still weighed down by the suffocating reality of his predicament.
It felt like prison. The thought made Zhan clench his fists in frustration. His entire situation was unbearable, and all he wanted was to scream into the void and escape this nightmare.
When the silence of the house struck him, Zhan realized Yibo wasn't around. Curious, he checked the bedroom, but Yibo was nowhere to be found. Venturing back to the sitting room and even glancing outside confirmed it-Yibo's car was gone. Relieved that he had some time alone, Zhan returned to the other bedroom's bathroom to shower.
The chill of the air conditioning and the fresh scent of rose-scented room spray greeted him as he stepped into the bedroom. He had little interest in admiring the room's lavish golden decor, his focus entirely on cleansing himself and finding some semblance of calm. Turning on the hot water, Zhan spent an extended time under the spray, scrubbing every inch of his body until his muscles relaxed.
After drying off, Zhan stood before the mirror and noticed a collection of perfumes neatly arranged-five bottles, all of which he recognized except for one: Tom Ford Oud Wood, an absurdly expensive fragrance he'd always admired. He lightly spritzed himself with some of the familiar perfumes, avoiding the luxurious Tom Ford bottle as he didn't want to linger on thoughts of its cost.
His attention was soon drawn to a shopping bag resting on the bed. Curious, he opened it to find the clothes Yibo had purchased the day before. Among the items, Zhan's eyes fell on an elegant yet revealing set of sleepwear. Flustered, he quickly shoved the outfit back into the bag, his face twisting with disbelief.
"Why would Yibo buy something like this? Did he seriously think I would wear it?"
Fury and humiliation bubbled within him as he replayed the thought. It was the latest in a long list of ways Yibo had disrupted his life, and Zhan refused to let himself be reduced to some absurd fantasy of Yibo's. If Yibo truly expected him to wear something like that, it was just another insult in this relentless torment.
Zhanxianyibo❤️💚💛