“Beyond the Rain” – Part 1

[📘 Content Warning:
This story contains Boys’ Love (BL) themes, depicting romantic and emotional relationships between two male characters. Please read with awareness and an open heart. NSFW, Reader discretion is advised.]

Once Fashion Week wrapped, they vanished.
No public appearances.

No flight records.
Just… gone!

But hidden away in a secluded hotel room

in a remote village tucked within the mountains of Switzerland.

They were finally together. After an entire year apart.

The rain streaked the massive glass window in lazy silver trails.

Droplets sliding down the glass, blurring the lush green scenery outside.

Zhan stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of his suite, eyes tracing the rain streaming down the glass.

He looked every bit of the ethereal beauty he was known for.

His dark hair was slightly damp from the shower,

framing his handsome face effortlessly, his skin, pale yet glowing with warmth.

A loose white shirt draped over his shoulders, its collar carelessly unbuttoned,

hinting at the smooth expanse of his chest.

Beneath it, he wore black silk sleep pants, low on his hips.

The smooth fabric clung lightly to his thighs, emphasizing their lean definition.

The waistband sat just below his V-line, teasing the faint dip of his lower abs.

Barefoot, his toes pressed into the cool hardwood floor, grounding him slightly.

But his gaze was far away—fixed on the rain beyond the glass.

The faint scent of his woody, bergamot-infused perfume lingered in the humid air.

The window fogged faintly with his breath, but his eyes remained distant.

They had planned this—months of coded messages, late-night phone calls and encrypted texts.

Neither of them could afford the constant scrutiny, the endless rumours.

The need to hide and pretend had almost driven them mad.

But now, finally, they were here.

A secluded resort, where the rain poured relentlessly and the world felt like a distant memory.

His fingers trembled as he lifted a glass of wine to his lips.

The rich, bitter taste washed over his tongue, but did nothing to ease the turmoil simmering beneath his calm exterior.

The door creaked open.

Zhan’s heart skipped, his gaze snapping away from the rain to find the man he’d been waiting for.

Yibo stepped in, hair damp from the drizzle outside, jaw tight with something unreadable.

He wore a black leather jacket over a fitted tee and jeans, outlining his strong, athletic frame.

Muscles straining against fabric, tall and lean, yet strong enough to command the room with his presence alone!

“Hey, Zhan-ge!”

“Bobo…” Zhan’s voice cracked; his throat suddenly dry.

“You know, booking a hotel this remote is pretty suspicious. Not that I’m complaining.” Yibo smirked, tossing his jacket to the side and running a hand through his messy hair.

His eyes glinted with something mischievous.

“But if anyone saw me, I swear I’ll blame you.”

“Like you haven’t done worse just to see me?!” Zhan shot back with a crooked smile.

“I was starting to think you changed your mind.”

Yibo rolled his eyes. “Please. I’ve been dying to get here. If the paparazzi knew how far I’ve gone just to see your grumpy ass…!”

Zhan’s laughter was a broken, beautiful thing.

“Shut up, idiot. I missed you.”

The admission hung between them, thick and heavy.

Yibo’s expression softened. “Yeah. I missed you too… More than I should…”

Zhan stepped forward, his hand reaching to trace the line of Yibo’s jaw.

“You look like hell…!”

He leaned in slightly, brow furrowing as he caught a faint scent of airport exhaustion clinging to Yibo’s clothes.

“You’ve been traveling for hours,” he murmured.

“Go freshen up, Bobo. I want your arms around me when you smell like you again, not plane seats and recycled air!”

Yibo chuckled, tossing his duffle bag near the bed.

“Demanding already? huh?!”

Zhan smirked, “Consider it foreplay.”

_____________________________

Steam drifted from the slightly open bathroom door.

Zhan sat curled on the edge of the bed, wine glass now resting on the nightstand,

eyes trained on the door like it might give him answers he wasn’t ready to speak.

He was still barefoot, shirt hanging loosely off one shoulder, hair a little messier than before from where his fingers had run through it nervously.

When the door finally opened, Yibo stepped out—

barefoot, towel slung low around his hips, hair damp and messy in the sexiest way possible.

Zhan’s breath caught in his throat.

Yibo had the audacity to smirk.

“Miss me already?” He asked, voice husky from the heat.

Zhan tried to look unimpressed but failed miserably.

“I told you to take a shower, not seduce the air around you.”

Yibo chuckled, striding over to the suitcase and quickly pulling out a pair of black joggers and a fitted tank.

He slipped them on effortlessly, the soft fabric settling comfortably against his toned body.

He paused briefly to spritz on his favourite cologne—spicy with hints of citrus and sandalwood.

He glanced at Zhan over his shoulder, a teasing smirk on his lips.

“Didn’t realize my existence was so threatening.”

Zhan rolled his eyes, a teasing smile tugging at his lips—but his voice betrayed a quiet longing.

“Still taking your sweet time, huh? Some things really don’t change…”

Yibo didn’t answer. He just walked forward, slow and purposeful, eyes locked on Zhan.

When he finally stopped, barely a breath away, he whispered—
“Say that again… and see what happens.”

Zhan laughed under his breath, but it cracked at the edge.

“A year later and you’re still full of threats.”

He paused, eyes flickering over Yibo’s face like he couldn’t quite believe he was real.

“God, I missed that…”

Before he could stop himself, Zhan reached forward and pulled Yibo into a quiet, aching hug

— arms wrapping around him like he was afraid to let go.

Zhan inhaled softly—the scent of Yibo’s freshly showered skin, warm and woodsy, laced with just a hint of his favorite cologne.

It was clean, familiar and overwhelming all at once.

Zhan’s fingers reached for the hem of Yibo’s tank,

slipping beneath the fabric to feel the heat of his skin, his touch lingering along the curve of Yibo’s waist.

Yibo inhaled sharply, his muscles tensing under Zhan’s fingertips for just a second,

as if he’d been waiting for that exact touch all year.

“You smell like yourself again… finally,”

Zhan whispered, almost to himself, lips curving into the barest smile.

“But you… Damn, you look so good, Zhan-ge.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere Bobo.”

“No?” Yibo raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking to Zhan’s lips.

“What about this?” Yibo leaned closer, lips grazing Zhan’s softly, teasing, testing his patience.

Zhan exhaled shakily, his fingers still resting under the hem of Yibo’s tank.

“Don’t tease, Yibo!” Zhan groaned quietly.

He wrapped an arm around Yibo’s waist, pulling him tighter until their chests touched.

“But teasing you is my favourite thing, -ge!” Yibo smirked, brushing his lips along Zhan’s lower one before giving it a soft nibble,

earning a breathy gasp in return.

Their lips met softly at first, exploring and reacquainting…

Then slowly their kiss turned wild, desperate,

full of all the words they couldn’t say…

Yibo’s hands travelled slowly up Zhan’s sides,

fingertips grazing the smooth skin beneath his loose shirt.

He found the open buttons and began undoing them one by one, taking his time, eyes never leaving Zhan’s.

When the last button came undone, he slid the shirt off Zhan’s shoulders, baring the delicate lines of his chest and the subtle rise and fall of his breath.

“You’re impossible,” Zhan gasped as their mouths met again.

“Always so damn impatient.”

“Blame yourself. You made me like this.” Yibo’s hands slid back over Zhan’s now bare waist,

fingertips exploring familiar territory with reverence and hunger.

“God, I missed your touch…”

Zhan slowly pushed Yibo down onto the bed, their bodies tangling like waves drawn together by gravity, impossible to resist!

Their clothes were shed with reckless abandon.

[To Be Continued…]