When Soft Leads
[📘 Content Warning:
This story contains Boys’ Love (BL) themes. Reader discretion is advised. Please read the disclaimers mentioned in the Instagram post.]
⚠️ [NSFW] This chapter contains explicit sexual content (18+ only).
Zhan had just completed the final phase of his publishing project, and the Nimbus publishing house was throwing a party on that Saturday, at a well-known hotel in Deqing to celebrate the successful relaunch of the illustrated series.
They’d given him two passes, and without hesitation he had asked Yibo to come.
“It’s not a casual party.”
Zhan had warned him earlier with a teasing smile.
“You’ll need to wear formals, Bo. No excuses.”
Yibo had grumbled something under his breath, clearly not a fan of the idea but in the end, he nodded.
If it was for Zhan, he’d deal with it… even if it meant a suit.
Saturday arrived with clear skies and a warm breeze.
Zhan hadn’t opened the bookstore that day.
By 4:30 PM, he was already at the shop, not for business, but for the party and to wait for Yibo.
He didn’t go for a suit, but he chose a sleek, clean look.
A fitted mocha-brown shirt tucked into warm Beige trousers, sleeves rolled up just enough to show the veins in his forearms.
His hair was styled a little differently today, pushed back with a soft lift, and his shoes were classic black loafers polished to a muted shine.
By 5:00 PM, he was double-checking the mirror when he heard the familiar chime of the front door.
Yibo walked in… and Zhan froze.
He was in a crisp steel-blue button-up, collar sharp and the top button left undone.
The sleeves were rolled up, tucked into tailored black trousers that hugged his frame perfectly, showing off long legs and that slim waist.
Instead of his usual sneakers, he wore a pair of clean, brown leather shoes.
His hair was slightly tamed, parted casually to the side with a few strands falling over his brow.
Zhan’s jaw dropped.
Yibo shifted, looking a little uncomfortable, tugging at his collar.
“Is this okay?”
He asked, fidgeting slightly.
“I feel weird, ge. Not used to all this…”
Zhan walked over slowly, eyes drinking him in.
Then, without a word, he grabbed Yibo by the collar and kissed him.
Hard.
Yibo froze for a second, stunned by the suddenness of it, but then his hands found Zhan’s waist, and he kissed him back deep, like he’d been waiting for this all day.
When Zhan finally pulled back, breath warm against Yibo’s lips, he whispered.
“You look so damn sexy in formals.”
Yibo let out a low laugh, his hand brushing along Zhan’s waist as he leaned closer.
“You look delicious too, ge.”
He murmured, lips ghosting over Zhan’s.
“As always…”
Then he kissed him back, slower this time, deeper.
Zhan’s hand slid into Yibo’s hair, his heart thudding against his ribs like it wanted to escape and press itself into Yibo’s chest.
But then Yibo pulled back with a breathless chuckle.
“We’ll be late.”
He said, voice husky.
“Let’s not do this now.”
Zhan pouted, still holding his shirt.
“Kill-joy!”
Yibo grinned, smoothing his palm down Zhan’s back.
“You can eat me alive later. Come on.”
Zhan sighed dramatically, but his eyes were glowing.
He reached up to fix Yibo’s collar, then ran his fingers through his hair to smooth it back into place as it had gotten just a little messy between their kisses.
Stepping back, he gave Yibo a slow once-over from head to toe, lips twitching into a satisfied smile.
Then he leaned in again, pressed a soft kiss to Yibo’s forehead, and whispered.
“You’re just perfect.”
And just like that, hand brushing against hand, they locked the bookstore behind them and stepped into the golden evening, heading for the party.
Two hearts moving in rhythm, in love, in sync.
—————————————
The venue was elegant: gold-lit chandeliers spilling soft light across velvet-draped tables, the low hum of conversation blending with jazz music floating in the air.
Zhan stood near the center of it all, effortlessly striking enough to draw glances.
His collar was open, exposing the delicate dip at his throat, and his hair was artfully styled, slightly tousled but tidy.
He smiled politely as one of the senior editors praised the final manuscript.
“He really brought the characters alive.”
Someone said.
“A rare find, this one.”
Another added, raising a glass.
Zhan offered gracious thanks, glancing around the room with quiet detachment.
None of the praise mattered.
Not really.
Not when his eyes kept drifting to the bar on the far side of the room.
There, leaning casually against the counter, stood Yibo.
In his rolled-up sleeves revealing the elegant lines of his forearms and that damn watch that always looked too good on him, he looked criminally out of place in the best way possible.
The single glass of whiskey in his hand glinted amber in the light.
And when Yibo’s gaze locked onto Zhan’s… a little wild and even more hungry, it made Zhan’s breath catch.
It’s like pouring oil on the fire already blazing inside Zhan since the moment he laid eyes on Yibo today.
Zhan excused himself, murmuring something vague about needing a drink.
The moment he reached the bar, Yibo turned his head slightly, eyes catching him with a glint of mischief.
“You surviving?”
Yibo asked, taking a slow sip.
Zhan picked up his own glass, downed a gulp, then leaned in slightly.
“Barely. It’s boring as hell. Can’t ditch either.”
Yibo chuckled, licking a drop of whiskey off his lip.
Zhan’s eyes locked onto Yibo’s, fierce and hungry.
“I can’t stop thinking about last time.”
Yibo raised a brow, a slow smirk pulling at his lips.
“Yeah? What part exactly?”
Zhan’s eyes dipped to Yibo’s lips, lingered, then slid lower… shameless, slow, full of heat.
He looked back up through his lashes, and this time, his voice was rougher, needier.
“The part where you wrecked me… and how ready I am to return the favor.”
The words hung in the air.
Warm. Electric. Undeniable.
Yibo’s smirk deepened into something darker.
He stepped in a little closer, fingers brushing lightly against Zhan’s hand, the touch subtle but deliberate.
“You keep looking at me like that, ge…”
He murmured, voice dipped in silk and sin
“I’m gonna do something reckless.”
Zhan swallowed hard.
His voice low and strained.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
Yibo’s gaze didn’t waver.
His lips curved with slow intent.
“Do I want to?”
Zhan bit the inside of his cheek, then looked him dead in the eye… wild, hungry, impatient.
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
He leaned in, lips ghosting just near Yibo’s ear.
“Let’s go.”
They didn’t say goodbye to anyone.
Didn’t need to.
Yibo set his empty glass down with a soft clink.
Zhan followed closely, heart pounding under his shirt, a flush warming his chest.
They slipped out the side exit and into the cool night air, a low buzz in their veins and heat coiling in their bellies.
The taxi arrived within minutes, a quiet, dark sedan humming at the curb.
Zhan slid in first, the leather seats cool beneath him.
Yibo followed, pulling the door shut with a soft click.
The partition between them and the driver was up, and the inside of the car was dim, shadows stretching over their legs, soft music playing low.
Zhan leaned in, his voice brushing Yibo’s ear like breath.
“The second we get inside… I’m getting on my knees.”
Yibo didn’t move, didn’t blink but his hand curled slowly into a fist on his thigh.
His tone was deep, tight with control as he was barely holding back.
“Say one more thing like that, and I’ll drag you into my lap right here and take you. I don’t give a damn who’s watching.”
Zhan sat up straight, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips.
He loved watching the little one lose control and seeing that sharp edge of dominance peek through.
It turned him on like nothing else.
The ride passed in heavy silence after that.
Yibo stared hard out the window, jaw tight.
Zhan sat beside him, lips parted in a smirk, eyes dark with anticipation.
He wasn’t done teasing, not even close.
——————————————
The moment they stepped into the bookstore, Zhan pull the shutter down.
The sound echoing louder than it should, then he locked the door behind them with a soft click.
The lights were dimmed, shelves standing silent and watchful in the half-dark.
Yibo barely had a chance to turn before Zhan was already on him, pushing him back against the locked door, his hands on Yibo’s chest, lips ghosting near his lips but never touching.
“Take off your shoes.”
Zhan said, low and calm, voice like silk pulled tight over steel.
Yibo blinked at him, startled by the sudden shift in energy.
He kicked off his shoes slowly, eyes never leaving Zhan’s face.
Zhan stepped closer.
A flicker of heat shot through Yibo’s eyes, his breath catching just a little.
Zhan smiled faintly, leaned in and finally pressed a kiss to Yibo’s jaw, slow and open-mouthed.
But he didn’t linger.
He backed away instead, he pushed Yibo onto the couch, the cushions sinking under his weight.
Yibo sat still, gaze fixed on Zhan like he was watching a storm roll in.
“You’ve been looking like a damn feast all night…”
Zhan murmured as he undid the buttons of his own shirt, slow, one at a time, the fabric parting like a tease.
“But maybe you forgot I get hungry too… and when I do, I don’t just want a taste. I want all of you. Slowly. Deeply. Until there’s nothing left but me in your head.”
Yibo exhaled hard, the heat in Zhan’s voice shooting straight through him.
“I need you now!”
Yibos whispered, voice rough, trembling with restraint.
Zhan moved forward and straddled him, still fully clothed except for the undone shirt that now hung loose on his shoulders.
Yibo’s hands slid to the sides of Zhan’s thighs, fingers curling in as he gripped and caressed the firm muscle beneath.
With a low exhale, he tugged Zhan closer, guiding him toward his face, eyes dark with hunger.
Zhan ran his fingertips down Yibo’s neck, tracing the line of his collarbone, watching the way Yibo’s breath hitched with every inch.
“You’re always in control, always the one flipping the switch.”
Zhan whispered near his ear.
“But tonight… you’re mine.”
He rolled his hips once, slowly, letting the friction burn just enough.
Yibo’s head tipped back against the couch, a low groan slipping past his lips.
As Zhan kissed his throat deep and slow… Yibo tilted his head back up to meet Zhan’s gaze.
Then Zhan leaned in, kissing him deeply and slowly, no rush, no pressure.
He kissed like he had all the time in the world… like he had all night to explore him, unravel him.
And Yibo? He was already breathless.
He chased the kiss when Zhan pulled back for air, his fingers clutching Zhan’s shirt like he’d drown without him.
“You’ve been driving me insane since evening, and you’re still doing it.”
Yibo whispered, voice hoarse.
Zhan chuckled against his lips, low and warm.
“That was just the warm-up, baobei.”
Their mouths crashed again, more desperate this time, Zhan’s hands already working on Yibo’s shirt buttons, slow and teasing.
While Yibo fumbled to shove Zhan’s open shirt off his shoulders completely.
Shirts hit the floor.
Skin pressed to skin.
Zhan’s lips trailed down Yibo’s jaw, to his throat, then lower… tongue flicking over his collarbone before finding a nipple.
He licked, then gave it a sharp bite.
Yibo groaned, head falling back.
“F-fuck…”
Zhan smirked against his chest and did it again, lips now gliding to the other side.
Their hips met… hard, aching, their erections brushing through thin layers of fabric.
The friction was enough to make both of them gasp.
“Feel that?”
He whispered into Yibo’s ear.
“That’s what you do to me.”
Yibo didn’t answer with words.
Instead, he pulled Zhan in and kissed him — deep, desperate, like he needed to feel it just as much as he heard it.
Zhan murmured against his mouth.
“Tonight, I’m gonna taste you… all of you.”
Yibo barely had time to react before he heard it, the slow, deliberate sound of his trousers’ zipper being dragged down.
The sound sent a shiver through him.
He felt Zhan’s hand slip in, warm and sure, cupping his erection fully.
Yibo let out a shaky breath.
“Ge… please… stop teasing.”
He said, barely holding it together.
“I’m going crazy here. Please… just… take me.”
Zhan leaned in, lips brushing his ear.
“Oh, poor thing… already losing it?”
He let his lips ghost along Yibo’s jaw, his tone dipping lower, darker.
“Only I get to see you like this… so needy. You beg so pretty, you know that?”
Then he rolled his hips again.
Hard. Slow. Grinding, until Yibo nearly cried out.
“That feel good, Bo… huh?”
Zhan hissed, voice low and full of heat.
Yibo bucked beneath him, panting.
His hands digging deep into Zhan’s thighs, fingers clutching like he needed something to hold on to.
Zhan smiled, dark and hungry as sliding down between his legs.
Trousers hit the floor.
His hands moved with practiced grace, but there was reverence in every touch.
He let his palms glide along the insides of Yibo’s thighs, watching the way the younger man tensed, muscles twitching under the heat of his breath.
Yibo was already a mess… chest rising too fast, eyes half-lidded and dazed, one arm flung back across the couch like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.
The other gripped Zhan’s hair, fingers sinking in deep as if afraid he’d float away without the anchor.
Zhan leaned in closer, nuzzling against the skin of Yibo’s hipbone, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses and a soft, wicked hum that vibrated through both of them.
His lips ghosted over the heat pulsing beneath Yibo’s boxers, teasing but not yet giving, the fabric doing little to hide how hard he was, how much he needed Zhan.
Yibo’s thighs tensed, breath hitching when Zhan finally mouthed him through the thin fabric, warm breath soaking into the cotton.
“Fuck… please…”
Yibo groaned, hips lifting before he could stop them.
Zhan chuckled, low and sinful.
“Patience, Bo.”
He whispered, pressing a kiss just above the waistband.
“Let ge take care of you tonight…”
And then the boxers were gone, shoved down with one swift motion and tossed aside with a lazy flick of the wrist.
His thick, aching length sprang free, flushed deep and straining… desperate for attention.
Zhan’s eyes dropped, his gaze dragging slowly over the sight like a predator savoring a meal.
His lips parted slightly, breath heavy, the hunger in his expression unmistakable.
He smirked, voice low and rough with heat.
“You’re already this hard for me…”
His tone was velvet and sin, eyes locked onto Yibo’s face as if watching him unravel was the only thing he wanted.
He leaned in again, lips dragging over the inside of Yibo’s thigh, slow and possessive, each kiss open-mouthed and wet, painting heat into his skin.
So close.
So maddeningly close.
Zhan’s breath ghosted over Yibo’s exposed length, making it twitch hard and aching, flushed deep with need but he still didn’t touch.
Not yet.
His tongue flicked the edge of Yibo’s hipbone, a slow, sinful tease, then he kissed lower again, lips brushing against the skin just beside where Yibo throbbed for attention.
Every breath Zhan let out was intentional… warm, humid, soaking into the sensitive skin as he mouthed his way down and back up again, his nose nearly brushing Yibo’s shaft, but pulling back just enough to drive him insane.
Yibo whimpered, hips twitching upward, desperate for contact.
Zhan looked up from between his thighs, eyes heavy-lidded, glinting with hunger and control.
“You’re aching for me, aren’t you, Bo?”
Zhan murmured, his voice low, wicked, thick with hunger.
He pressed one more kiss to the crease where thigh met groin, once again deliberately ignoring the place Yibo needed him most.
Yibo’s hands fisted the cushions beside him.
His breath came in sharp, shallow bursts, hips twitching as he tried not to beg, but he was losing.
“Zhan-ge…”
His voice cracked, hips jerking slightly, chasing even the ghost of contact.
“Fuck… please! just touch me. I can’t…”
Zhan only smiled, the corners of his lips curling with cruel delight, lips still hovering maddeningly close.
“I know…”
He whispered.
“That desperate little sound you make when I don’t give you what you want… that’s what drives me crazy, Bo.”
He whispered it against Yibo’s skin, letting the heat of his breath tease the tip without giving in.
“I could spend all night watching you like this… needy, twitching, leaking for me…”
Yibo whimpered, the sound raw and helpless.
He knew Zhan would never be rough with him… never force, never growl.
But the gentleness… the way he spoke like a promise, touched like a prayer…
Yibo was trembling just from being looked at.
Teased with love.
Zhan’s softness wasn’t weakness.
It was control wrapped in silk.
And Yibo would beg for it all night if he had to.
His whole body tensed and trembling as Zhan’s hands gripped his thighs tighter and holding him open, keeping him there, exposed and at his mercy.
Yibo’s fingers curled tight against the couch cushions, eyes burning as he looked down at Zhan, breathless, desperate, and rapidly losing patience every second without Zhan’s mouth, driving him closer to snapping.
“Ge… if you don’t put your mouth on me right now…”
He growled, voice low and shaking with restraint.
“I swear I’ll flip you over and fuck your throat myself. Don’t push me… I’ll lose it!”
This was the moment Zhan had been teasing toward.
That raw edge of Yibo’s control was starting to crack, the rough, dominant side he kept buried threatening to surface.
The snap in his voice, the barely leashed hunger in his eyes.
That beast he kept caged? Zhan was dying to let it loose.
Because he wanted it… wanted him like that.
A dark spark lit in Zhan’s eyes as he watched Yibo teeter on the edge, so close to snapping.
That was all he needed.
Zhan was quiet, careful, always gentle… except for this.
Except when it was just them, breath to breath, and he let the fire out.
Finally, Zhan’s mouth moved lower to Yibo’s hard and aching length, slow, deliberate, sinful.
And Yibo nearly sobbed with relief as Zhan took him in, mouth hot and hungry, finally surrendering to the hunger and devouring him like he’d starved for days.”
Every movement was fluid, worshipful, deep with purpose.
He didn’t rush.
He savored.
Yibo’s head dropped back against the couch with a sharp gasp, one hand clawing at the cushions, the other still tangled in Zhan’s hair, tightening, trembling.
“God, ge… shit! Zhan…”
His voice cracked, every word soaked in pleasure and disbelief.
“Zhan?”
Zhan paused, lips still pressed to Yibo’s skin.
“That’s not what you call me. Say it right… or I’ll make you.”
His voice was soft, warm, almost gentle — but the way his fingers squeezed Yibo’s thigh, hard enough to make him flinch and moan, said otherwise.
Yibo groaned, breathless.
“Ge… fuck, ge… ge — sorry…”
Zhan smirked against his skin, satisfied.
With a quiet laugh against his skin, lips trailing heat as he continued where he left off — slower this time, more deliberate, like he was savoring every reaction.
Yibo looked down, breath stuttering as his eyes met Zhan’s between his legs.
Zhan’s gaze flicked up and locked with his; eyes glassy, mouth full, cheeks hollowing around Yibo’s length in smooth, sinful motions.
He looked wild. Starved. Beautiful.
His nails dug into Yibo’s thighs to keep himself steady, but the sight, the heat, the submission, the filthy perfection of it all… driving Yibo closer to the edge.
Yibo could feel it building in his chest, the raw, aching instinct to take control.
To grab Zhan and drag him up, and pin him down.
Claim him hard, fast, messy.
His whole body burned with the need.
But tonight… he wouldn’t.
Tonight, he wanted to feel what it was like to surrender.
To be unraveled by the only person who could touch him like this.
A shaky laugh escaped him – part pain, part pleasure, as his head dropped back against the couch.
His hands fisted the cushions, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the force of the breath he swallowed.
He was holding on by a thread.
And that thread… was Zhan.
Tonight, it was Zhan’s turn… and Yibo was already unraveling.
Zhan let Yibo guide him, control him, but never stopped teasing… the scrape of teeth, the swirl of tongue, the soft groan that vibrated straight through him.
Yibo was falling apart.
The room was quiet except for the sound of wet kisses, gasps, and the rhythm of Yibo’s ragged breathing.
His legs trembled, his thighs clamping instinctively around Zhan’s shoulders as the pressure coiled tighter in his core. Too fast. Too much.
“Fuck… ge… I’m close… don’t stop…”
Yibo gasped, voice rough, breaking.
“You’re gonna make me come… can’t… can’t hold it… I…”
His eyes fluttered shut, lips parted, a broken whimper slipping out as his body shook.
“Fuck…! please, ge… I wanna come… just let me…”
But Zhan had no intention of stopping.
He only went harder. Wetter. Deeper.
His mouth working him with ruthless precision, tongue flicking, throat tightening.
Every motion dripping with hunger.
His hands dug into Yibo’s hips, firm and unrelenting, holding him in place, forcing him to take all of it.
And Yibo did.
With a strangled cry he came hard, spilling deep into Zhan’s mouth, body jerking, breath caught somewhere between a sob and a moan.
Zhan didn’t flinch.
Didn’t stop.
He took everything.
Swallowed every drop.
He kept moving, milking Yibo through every wave like he’d been starving for it.
Like he owned him.
Yibo was a panting mess, slumped and half-wrecked on the couch.
Zhan took his time, licking him clean with slow, deliberate strokes.
Then he finally sat up, lips red and glistening, that smug look already forming.
Satisfied.
His chest rose and fell in deep, measured breaths as he watched Yibo melt into the couch, spent, flushed, still trembling.
Zhan shifted closer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, gaze still locked on Yibo like he wanted to devour him all over again.
Yibo reached out, wrapping his arms around Zhan’s waist and tugging him in, needing him even closer, like he wasn’t done being touched.
His voice was rough, low, still breathless.
“You’re not done, are you?”
Zhan blinked, caught off guard for half a second — then smirked as Yibo dragged him back into his lap.
Zhan straddled his hips again, fingers brushing along Yibo’s jaw, then down his chest — slow, reverent.
“You think you can handle more?”
His voice came out low and hoarse, the fire in his eyes dark and burning.
Yibo let out a shaky breath, palms smoothing down Zhan’s lower back, slow and greedy, like he couldn’t get enough.
“I don’t care. I want you again.”
He let his hands trail around to the front, and the second his fingers brushed Zhan’s erection, he grinned.
He smirked up at him, eyes dark.
“You’re still hard…”
He murmured.
“And I’m still starving.”
Zhan’s smirk deepened.
He leaned in, brushing his thumb along Yibo’s lower lip.
“You’re insatiable, baobei…”
Yibo’s eyes fluttered half-shut, already aching, already wanting.
“Please, ge…”
He whispered.
“I need it.”
Zhan kissed him hard, swallowing the sound of his own groan.
He pulled back just enough to speak, voice low and full of heat.
“Your ge is not letting you off easy tonight…”
His thumb brushed Yibo’s cheek.
“Let me love you properly…”
Then he leaned in again, lips brushing Yibo’s ear.
“Now, be a good boy and turn around.”
And Yibo obeyed.
His body still flushed and aching, but eager for more.
Needed to feel his ge like that again, deep and possessive, marking him all over from the inside out.
He slid off the couch without hesitation, settling on his knees with a quiet whimper, wanting to be touched again.
Zhan reached into the drawer near the couch and flipped open a bottle of lube kept there.
He took his time.
He knelt down behind Yibo, settling close, his chest barely brushing Yibo’s back.
His hands were firm but reverent, smoothing lube over both of them in slow, heated strokes.
Yibo shivered at the first brush of Zhan’s slick fingers — familiar, slow, and devastating.
Zhan exhaled softly against Yibo’s shoulder, grounding them both.
Then, with practiced patience, he eased inside.
The stretch was slow, deliberate, and Yibo arched into it like he’d been waiting all night.
He gasped, his body arching, head falling back against Zhan’s shoulder, lips parting in a moan as he was filled again…
Zhan moved with care, dragging it out, savoring the way Yibo arched back into him with each slow roll of his hips.
He leaned in and pressed a soft, burning kiss to Yibo’s shoulder.
“You don’t even know how good you feel… Bo.”
He murmured against the flushed skin, hips rocking in smooth, shallow thrusts.
“So perfect for me…”
His grip tightened on Yibo’s hips, holding him in place as he moved deeper.
Every thrust after that was harder, deeper… Zhan’s control slipping with each second.
His breath was ragged, his voice a broken thread of moans and curses as he whispered against Yibo’s ear.
“Little one, you are mine… all mine.”
A strangled moan escaped Yibo… a low, wrecked sound and his whole-body arching into Zhan, back bowing with every pounding thrust.
His fingers clawed into the cushions, knuckles white, nails digging deep.
“Fuckkk… ge… yes… yes… yours…”
He choked the words out, voice hoarse and thick with pleasure.
His legs trembled, eyes fluttering shut as heat pooled in his gut again, hard and rising.
Zhan’s grip on his hips tightened as he felt Yibo grow harder beneath him once more.
“Ge… I…”
He cried out, voice wrecked.
“I’m gonna come again… f-fuck!”
Zhan only pushed in harder, faster, his rhythm relentless, dragging every broken sound out of Yibo’s throat.
Then, with one hand still gripping Yibo’s hip, Zhan grabbed Yibo’s hand, guiding it down with a firm grip, wrapping his fingers around his own aching length.
Zhan leaned in, breath hot against Yibo’s skin.
He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the side of his neck, then another to the curve of his ear before whispering… voice low, thick with heat and control.
“Bo… touch yourself for me.”
Zhan whispered, voice husky, laced with desire.
“Come for your ge again, baobei… let me watch.”
Yibo’s breath caught in his throat.
He nodded, desperate and flushed.
His hand started to move… driven by Zhan’s voice, by the aching need coiling tighter with every thrust.
The moment Zhan picked up his pace – deeper now, a little rougher but still controlled, Yibo cried out.
His second climax tore through him unexpectedly.
Louder. Messier.
His back arched, body shuddering in Zhan’s arms as he spilled over his own fingers moaning his name like it was the only word he remembered.
Zhan groaned low, losing himself seconds later with a broken sound against Yibo’s shoulder, hips stuttering, spilling deep inside him.
They collapsed together in a tangle of limbs and aftershocks, skin damp, hearts pounding in sync.
Zhan didn’t pull away.
He pulled Yibo close, arms wrapped around him from behind, kissing his spine, shoulder, and neck in a tender trail, like he was worshiping every inch of him.
“You take me so well, every time…”
He whispered, voice hoarse and tender.
“Letting go like that… letting me have all of you.”
Yibo couldn’t speak.
He just reached back, fingers brushing Zhan’s thigh, grounding himself in the warmth that had wrecked him and loved him… all at once.
His lips curled in a quiet, satisfied smile, breath still uneven.
——————————————————
They were sprawled on the wooden floor, Zhan sitting with his back against the couch, legs stretched out.
Yibo lay draped across him, head resting on Zhan’s bare chest… eyes closed and utterly spent.
His breathing was uneven, his body still trembling faintly from the aftershocks.
Twice undone, and barely able to move.
Zhan shifted slightly, careful not to disturb Yibo.
He reached behind and pulled a thin blanket from the couch, draping it over both of them.
It wasn’t much, but it was enough to shield them from the cool air, to cocoon them in warmth, in quiet, in everything that lingered between them.
Yibo sighed softly, melting further into Zhan’s chest, like he belonged there.
And Zhan held him tighter, as if to say: you do.
Zhan wrapped his arms around him gently, holding him close like something precious.
He pressed a soft kiss to Yibo’s damp hair, slow and tender, his fingers brushing soothing circles along his spine.
No rush. No words. Just comfort.
He knew he’d wrecked him and he loved him too much not to care for every part of it after.
Yibo stirred slightly, tilting his head up and pressing a soft kiss to the curve of Zhan’s throat.
His lips lingered, reverent.
Zhan smiled, his voice a soft murmur against the quiet.
“You’re a trouble, Wang Yibo… But damn, I love it.”
Yibo gave a tired chuckle, voice hoarse but full of warmth.
“Next time, I’m getting revenge for this, ge.”
Zhan just smiled and pulled him closer, nuzzling gently into Yibo’s hair.
“Can’t wait, baobei.”
The night stretched around them like a secret.
Warm, quiet, and infinite.
And neither of them was letting go.
[To Be Continued…]
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Author’s Note:
Heyyy, you made it to the end of the chapter! 😄
Hope you enjoyed it — and if you did, please don’t forget to like & comment on my Insta post. 💖
Think of it as your way of telling me, “Hey, I’m here, and I loved it!” — it means the world to me and truly keeps me inspired to write more for you! ✨
The Red Ribbon 