Not Just Friends
[📘 Content Warning:
This story contains Boys’ Love (BL) themes. Reader discretion is advised. Please read the disclaimers mentioned in the Instagram post.]
They were still tangled in the afterglow, breath steadier now, bodies cooling under the soft hum of the ceiling fan.
Clothes were pulled on lazily, half-buttoned shirts, tousled hair, the faint scent of sweat and warmth lingering between them.
Waistbands sat low on their hips, trousers rumpled and askew, as if tugged on in a rush, still clinging to the shape of their bodies.
Yibo sat on the two-seater couch, legs spread, one foot propped up on the low table in front.
His fingers moved in slow, absent circles, massaging Zhan’s ankle and the arch of his foot, which rested casually across his lap.
Zhan leaned back against the armrest, head tilted, eyes closed.
A peaceful silence hovered… heavy, but not uncomfortable.
Minutes passed.
Then, softly, Yibo broke the quiet.
“Zhan-ge…”
“Hmm?”
His voice was low, a little hesitant.
“Where do you think this is going?”
Zhan didn’t open his eyes at first.
But his brows tensed faintly at the question, just enough to be noticed.
A breath escaped him, deeper than usual.
“I don’t know, Yibo.”
He said finally, voice a quiet hum, almost swallowed by the room.
Yibo’s thumb slowed on his leg.
He stared at the floor for a second, jaw tensing.
“Is it just… rides, long talks, and sex?”
Zhan’s eyes opened slowly.
“Do you think that’s all it is?”
“No.”
Yibo looked at him, searching.
“But I need to hear it from you. I just want clarity.”
Zhan didn’t respond right away.
He watched the way Yibo’s fingers had stilled on his leg.
The lines around his mouth were tense, uncertain.
So young, yet carrying too much weight.
Yibo looked at him again, this time more pointedly.
“If this is serious… how do we move forward? Will you be able to tell your parents? Will they be okay with it?”
He paused. Then added, more bitterly.
“What do you think people are going to say, ge?”
Zhan looked down for a moment, eyes heavy.
He ran a hand through his hair, then gently slid his legs off Yibo’s lap and sat up straighter, shifting a little closer to him.
“I don’t know how my parents will react.”
He admitted.
“I really don’t. And I don’t know what the world will think either. And I don’t have all the answers right now… Bo.”
He looked up and met Yibo’s gaze.
Slowly, his fingers reached out, cupping Yibo’s hand where it rested on his knee, thumb brushing lightly over his knuckles.
His voice was soft, but the words came out with quiet certainty.
“But the one thing I know without a single doubt is that… I love you. More than anything.”
Yibo’s throat moved as he swallowed.
He turned to face Zhan more fully.
“Ge… do you really think love is enough?”
He exhaled sharply through his nose, gaze dropping.
“I don’t know what Ma and Nainai would say. But Ba… he’s a different story. If he finds out, it’ll be bad. Really bad. He won’t just disapprove, he’ll lose it. Completely.”
Zhan’s heart clenched at the quiet fear in Yibo’s voice.
He reached out but paused, unsure for a moment.
Yibo looked up again, eyes guarded, yet hopeful.
“So I’m asking you… do you really believe we have a future? Can we even think that far?”
Zhan’s voice was calm, even though his chest was tight.
“I’m not sure.”
He said softly.
“But I want to try, Bo. I don’t want to let you go just because of how this world works. Or because people can’t accept something they don’t understand.”
Yibo was quiet.
Zhan asked gently.
“Will you be able to let go? If it comes to that?”
Yibo didn’t speak.
He just shook his head slowly… no.
Zhan wrapped one arm around Yibo’s back and shoulders and pulled him in gently.
Yibo leaned into the touch without resistance.
Zhan pressed a kiss to his forehead, a soft, lingering one, then whispered.
“Whatever happens… we’ll figure it out. Okay? Right now, we’ve got time.”
“You focus on finishing your studies. Get a job. I’m still working on the Netherlands immigration.”
Yibo looked up at him, brows furrowed.
“Are you saying we’ll leave everything behind?”
Zhan let out a breath, looked down at his own hands.
“Bo… we don’t always get to have everything we want. Sometimes… letting go of one thing is the only way to hold on to something else.”
Yibo didn’t reply.
His silence said more than words.
Zhan ran a comforting hand through his hair, then held his cheek gently.
“It’s okay, baobei. Don’t overthink it right now. Just be here. Be with me. That’s all I need.”
Yibo finally nodded, pressing his face into Zhan’s shoulder.
Eventually, they got up in silence, still a little unsteady, fingers brushing as they moved around each other.
Zhan locked up the bookstore, lights dimming behind them.
Dinner was at a small restaurant just a block away.
Nothing fancy.
Simple bowls of noodles, side dishes they barely touched, fingers grazing under the table.
Afterward, they walked to the station under the soft halo of streetlights, the night folding gently around them like a blanket.
They didn’t say much, but the silence between them felt different now.
Not empty.
Not uncertain.
Just full… of something unspoken, something quietly determined.
It was nearly 12 a.m. when Zhan finally shut the lights off in his room.
He lay on his bed, one arm behind his head, eyes unfocused on the ceiling as the fan turned slowly above him, casting broken shadows on the pale walls.
He hadn’t said it out loud, but Yibo’s questions… they hit places he hadn’t dared to touch yet.
Where is this going?
He didn’t know.
And that scared him more than he liked to admit.
He’d always been the steady one.
The calm one.
The one who kept things in order.
But this? This thing with Yibo, it didn’t follow rules.
It didn’t wait for logic.
It just… happened.
Slowly. All at once.
Quiet, but impossible to ignore.
And now it was too far in.
Too late to take a step back.
Yibo had become something else now.
Not just someone he just liked.
Not just someone he kissed behind closed doors.
He was… his.
The lifeline he didn’t know he’d been reaching for all this time.
Like breath. Like pulse.
And the thought of not having him… of losing this, whatever this was… left a sharp, cold space in his chest he didn’t want to explore.
He didn’t know how it would end.
But he knew one thing, plain and simple:
He wasn’t going to lose Yibo.
No matter where this led, no matter how uncertain everything else felt… that part was clear.
Not even if the world told him to.
Not even if it hurt.
Because for the first time in a long time, he needed someone.
And that someone was Yibo.
He sure as hell wasn’t going to let go.
Not now. Not ever.
—————————————-
As days passed, they were living in their little heaven, just the two of them, tucked away from the rest of the world.
Every day, without fail, they found a way to meet.
Even on Sundays, when family duties loomed and routines tried to keep them apart, they crafted soft excuses and found themselves by the riverside in Deqing.
That spot had become theirs.
No grand gestures, no declarations needed.
Just them.
Sitting side by side on the old stone ledge overlooking the slow-moving water, sometimes in silence, sometimes sharing a pair of headphones, one bud in each ear.
The music wrapped around them like a private conversation.
A shared playlist.
A shared rhythm.
They’d munch on fries or fruit from the same paper bag, fingers brushing occasionally.
Sometimes, Yibo’s hand would quietly find Zhan’s thigh, his thumb moving in slow circles just under the hem of his shirt.
Zhan would shoot him a warning glance, cheeks pink, eyes flicking around to make sure no one was watching, but he never moved Yibo’s hand away.
Their laughter was softer there, their smiles deeper.
The touches were hidden but hungry, slipping between quiet conversations and light teasing.
And most Sundays, after stealing time together by the riverside in Deqing, they’d end up at the bookstore.
Their sanctuary behind shuttered doors and drawn blinds, where longing could finally spill free.
The smell of ink and paper, the creak of the wooden floor beneath hurried steps, the soft slam of the that small room door.
It became their escape.
Their shelter.
Their space where passion overtook restraint.
Mouths meeting in the hush of narrow aisles, bodies tangled between stacks of forgotten books, breathless and flushed in the backroom shadows.
It was private happiness.
Their little secret.
To the outside world, nothing had changed.
They were still friends.
Just friends.
Yibo had started visiting Zhan’s house more often; casually at first, then as someone familiar.
Someone the family welcomed without question.
He moved comfortably through the hallways, knew where the glasses were kept in the kitchen.
Zhan would lead him to his room, where the air smelled faintly of paint and clean linen.
They’d sit for hours – sometimes talking, sometimes just being.
Yibo would lie back on Zhan’s bed with his hands folded behind his head, watching as Zhan painted at the easel, brush moving in slow, dreamy strokes.
Every now and then, Zhan would glance over his shoulder, eyes soft with affection, and offer a shy smile without saying a word.
Sometimes, when the house was quiet, when no footsteps echoed from the hallway, Yibo would sneak up behind him and press a kiss to the curve of his neck.
Zhan would gasp, half-laughing, half-scolding, whispering his name in a panicked hush, even as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
And when Monday came and Yibo returned to campus, Chen and Lele didn’t need to ask.
The faint marks on his neck told enough of a story.
The hickeys just beneath his collar, the barely-there scratches on his wrists.
When teased, Yibo would just shrug, lips twitching into a grin.
“I don’t know.”
He’d say, chuckling.
“I was with Zhan-ge.”
And that was all he needed to say.
Because the truth was already there… in the way his eyes softened when he said Zhan’s name, in the way he touched his phone screen like it held someone precious.
It was quiet love.
Secret love.
But it was theirs.
And it was real.
————————————-
Friday night settled quietly over Hangzhou, the sky dark and soft with stars peeking through passing clouds.
After finishing his shower and dinner, Zhan retreated to his room like always.
He slipped into the familiar comfort of his desk.
The small lamp on the corner glowed amber as he leaned over pages of a children’s manuscript he was proofreading — all while his family’s voices faded into the hush of the night.
It was past midnight by the time he finally closed his laptop.
He stretched, arms high, and exhaled long and tired.
Then, out of habit or maybe longing, he reached for his phone and tapped Yibo’s name.
The line rang once before it was picked up.
“You didn’t sleep yet?”
Zhan asked, voice low and slightly hoarse with fatigue.
“Nope.”
Yibo replied, that familiar lilt in his voice.
“I was just waiting for your call, Ge. I figured you’d be caught up with your freelance work, so I timed myself. Finished my assignment just in time too.”
Zhan’s lips curved, the warmth seeping into his chest.
“You’re always very patient.”
He murmured.
“Yeah…”
Yibo chuckled.
“But only with you.”
Zhan let out a quiet laugh of his own.
Then, without much thought, like the truth had been sitting on his tongue all night — he whispered.
“Bo….”
“Hmm?”
“I want to see you…”
A pause from Yibo. Then –
“Now?”
Zhan blinked once and sighed, turning onto his side under the blanket.
“Yeah, but it’s already past twelve-thirty.”
He clicked his tongue softly.
“Tsk… It’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow at the bookstore.”
There was a short silence on the line.
Then, from the other side just a soft,
“Hmm.”
Zhan smiled again.
“Okay, Bo. I’m really tired. You should sleep too. Goodnight, love you.”
“Night, Ge… love you too.”
The call ended.
Zhan set the phone on the nightstand, rolled over and let his eyes slip shut, warmth still blooming in his chest from that simple conversation.
But even with the comfort of his voice, there was still a quiet weight in his chest.
A lingering ache settled in his chest, because part of him still wished he could see Yibo right now, even at this hour… even though he’d just spent the entire evening with him.
But he knew it wasn’t possible.
And with that thought, he slowly slipped into sleep.
Just over an hour later, his phone buzzed against the wood.
His eyes fluttered open, confused.
The screen glowed “Bo-Di calling.”
1:50 AM.
Zhan sat up immediately, heart lurching as he picked up the call.
“Bo…? What’s wrong?”
There was a faint chuckle on the other end.
“Nothing’s wrong, ge. Just… come to your terrace. I’m waiting.”
Zhan’s eyes widened as he jerked upright, the blanket slipping off his chest.
“What?!”
He whispered.
“You said you wanted to see me, right?”
Yibo said lightly.
“So… I came. Now come up, quietly. Don’t wake anyone up.”
Zhan was stunned, blinking at the phone like it was playing tricks on him.
“Yibo! you’re impossible.”
He ended the call, a dazed smile spreading across his face.
He pulled a blanket around his shoulders, slipped on his slippers, and tiptoed to the back door.
With a cautious glance toward the hallway, making sure Yue or his parents weren’t awake.
He unlocked the door soundlessly and stepped out.
The air outside was cool and hushed, laced with the scent of earth after the day’s heat.
The concrete under his feet was still faintly warm.
He padded up the stairs, blanket wrapped tightly around him, heart thudding in a quiet kind of disbelief.
And there he was… Yibo, standing near the edge of the terrace, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, that lazy, crooked smile lighting up his whole face when he turned and saw him.
Zhan froze at the top step, a soft breath escaping.
He smiled, a little helplessly, pulling the blanket tighter.
“Are you crazy?”
He whispered.
Yibo shrugged and stepped closer, his grin widening.
“A little. But honestly… I missed you the second you said you wanted to see me.”
Zhan shook his head and a quiet, disbelieving kind of smile that curved his lips and softened his eyes.
The night air was cool against his skin, the sky above a deep indigo scattered with faint stars, but everything around him seemed to fade as he stepped toward Yibo.
Yibo stood there, arms already open, like he’d been waiting to hold Zhan all night.
Without hesitation, Zhan walked right into them, burying his face in Yibo’s shoulder as his arms wrapped around his waist.
The hug was tight, desperate in the most gentle way.
Zhan let out a breath, his voice muffled against Yibo’s hoodie.
“This feels so good… just you and me.”
He whispered, like his entire chest had just exhaled something heavy he didn’t even know he was carrying.
Yibo smiled.
He pulled back just enough to see Zhan’s face, his hands sliding up to cup his cheeks.
His thumbs brushed lightly over Zhan’s lips before he leaned in and kissed him… slow, soft, full of everything unspoken.
Then, still close, he murmured with a glint in his eyes.
“If you say you want something, how could I possibly sleep without making it happen, ge?”
Zhan’s heart fluttered.
He didn’t say anything in return.
Yibo had a way of saying things that knocked the air right out of him.
So instead, he just kissed him again.
Tighter this time. Deeper.
Because… after hearing that, how else was he supposed to respond?
————————————–
They sat on the terrace floor, backs resting against the boundary wall, legs stretched out side by side on the cool tiles.
The silence between them wasn’t heavy… it was comforting, peaceful.
A soft kind of happiness that didn’t need words.
Zhan leaned his head on Yibo’s shoulder, eyes half-lidded as he let out a quiet sigh.
Yibo pressed a kiss to the top of his hair, then rested his cheek gently against Zhan’s temple.
They gazed up at the stars, hands clasped, sharing a single pair of earphones between them.
The low hum of music played in their ears, their thumbs brushing every now and then, like a small reminder that they were here, together.
For a long while, they didn’t move.
The world around them stayed hushed, as if time itself had slowed for their private moment.
At some point, Yibo turned to say something, but paused.
Zhan had fallen asleep against his shoulder, breathing soft and steady, lips parted slightly.
His hand still rested in Yibo’s, fingers loosely curled.
Yibo couldn’t help but smile.
Gently, adjusted his shoulder, careful not to wake him, and let Zhan’s head settle against his chest.
Zhan stirred lightly in his sleep, brow twitching as he shifted.
He let out a small sigh, arms wrapping around Yibo’s waist in a half-asleep hug… like his body was chasing warmth without thinking.
With his free hand, Yibo pulled the blanket up over Zhan’s back and shoulders to shielding him from the night air.
Then, quietly, he stopped the music, removed the earphones, first from Zhan, then from himself and set his phone aside after setting an alarm, before sunrise.
He tilted his head, pressing his cheek gently against Zhan’s hair, eyes fluttering closed as he wrapped an arm around Zhan’s back, holding him close.
No one would come looking for them for a while.
No one would disturb them.
And so, just like that…
Tangled together, held in silence…
They slept.
[To be continued…]
——————————————-
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 