Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Lan Zhan always tried to be in control of his own life.

Control of his routine, his exercises, his feelings. Control of the people he talks to, the events he attends, the expressions he makes. He knows exactly what he needs to do every day, and he does it. He enjoys the predictability of it, and even though he is painfully aware that it all comes from a strict upbringing, it has always served him well.

Having control, taking it, was not something he did on purpose anymore. It was not something he had to think about. In school, he’d been class president every single year. In most classes in college, if there was ever a project to be done, he assumed leadership of it naturally. People look at him as someone who knows what he’s doing, and the image is not at all a wrong one.

Especially when it comes to his job, Lan Zhan prides himself in always taking the lead before he is asked to, delegating tasks with efficiency, and going after the things that will get him the better results with a determination he has spent years cultivating.

It was part of who he was, and Lan Zhan had taken a long time to realize how it all loomed over him, suffocating, like a responsibility he didn’t want but felt like he needed to take, anyway.

Losing control… felt like a privilege. Like something just out of reach, even when he searched for it. It felt like an indulgence, and it scared him, how much he wanted to indulge. How much he craved it, dreamed about it, and still couldn’t quite make himself get there.

He needed someone to take it from him.

And someone had.

-

They met in college.

Lan Zhan remembers how young he was, just in his second semester. He remembers preparing his first big presentation weeks before, and all the time it had taken him to do the research. He remembers practicing his lines for hours, knowing that he would never forgive himself if he ever said anything wrong.

He offered to go first, then, when his teacher asked who wanted to start. He was more anxious than he thought he’d be, before starting. Presentations in college were nothing like presentations in high school, and since he was always early and used to sit right in front of the class, he didn’t even know what most of the other students looked like yet.

He walked to the front of the class, looked at all the faces staring back at him, and took a deep breath in.

And then, the door to class burst open.

Lan Zhan closed his lips immediately, glancing at the boy with the flushed face who had just walked in, having apparently run all the way here.

"Shit, sorry," the boy said. The teacher glared at him, and the boy shushed his own mouth before sitting by one of the walls.

Lan Zhan tried to keep himself from rolling his eyes. A careless student. He knew very well how that type liked to behave.

The teacher nodded at him, and Lan Zhan continued to talk.

The boy hadn’t sat still for a single second of Lan Zhan’s presentation. He fidgeted on his chair, spread and crossed his legs constantly, and looked so infuriatingly distracted that Lan Zhan almost felt the need to call him out on it.

After he was done talking, the teacher opened up questions about his work and, as usual, no one had any. A little disappointed that he wouldn’t get to discuss the work he spent a long time on, Lan Zhan gathered his papers.

And then, the annoying boy raised his hand.

“Yes?” Lan Zhan said, already clenching his jaw, bracing himself for the annoying comment that was surely coming.

But the boy sat back on his chair, twirling his pen between his fingers with a focused frown on his face, and asked him… important, thoughtful questions about the content he had just shown.

Lan Zhan was stunned. The questions allowed him to expose his research better, and with every sentence the boy said to him, Lan Zhan felt a little bit of his anger slipping away.

And so, when their next duo project for class came, Lan Zhan walked into the teacher’s office and requested to be partnered up with “the annoying one who was wearing the atrocious ripped jeans”.

"You mean Wei Ying," his teacher laughed, but agreed to his request.

This is good, Lan Zhan thought to himself, when the teacher announced the duos out loud. He was being partnered up with the only other student who seemed as willing as he was to learn, and it was all by his own decision.

He looked at the boy, expecting to see him staring right ahead, trying to guess who Lan Zhan was, since they hadn’t been properly introduced yet. He’d seen Wei Ying outside, with his other friends, a few times now. He was popular enough to say “sorry, I don’t remember you, I’m not good with names” right to someone’s face and not have them be offended by it. Surely, Wei Ying would have no clue what Lan Zhan’s face even looked like.

But when his eyes found Wei Ying in the room, he was already looking back.

Wei Ying got up, smiling all the way, and sat carelessly in the chair in front of him. His legs were spread open, one on each side, and he leaned over the back of the chair and onto Lan Zhan’s desk like they’d known each other for years.

“Lan Zhan! Do you have air conditioning in your dorm?” he asked, and the question was so unexpected Lan Zhan took longer than he should have to answer.

“Yes,” he managed.

“Cool,” Wei Ying said. “Mine’s temporarily broken. What’s your room number?”

Lan Zhan told him. And then, inexplicably, outrageously, Wei Ying opened Lan Zhan’s pencil case, reached into it to get a pen, and wrote the room number on his own hand.

“Sorry, I don’t have my phone with me,” he said. “Is tomorrow okay for you?”

Lan Zhan wanted to say no. He wanted to choose the date when they would meet for himself, take the leadership of this project just as easily as he did with anything else he worked on. And here Wei Ying was, choosing not only the day but also where they would meet, before he even had a chance to speak.

But tomorrow was the best date for him. So Lan Zhan nodded.

 “Good,” Wei Ying opened a big, genuine smile, and Lan Zhan felt himself blinking at how easily he seemed to do it. “See you tomorrow, Lan Zhan!”

Lan Zhan never had a chance to answer. Wei Ying was gone before he could utter a single word back.

From then on, Lan Zhan felt like his entire world shifted on its axis.

When they worked together, Wei Ying was never still, never quiet, and never compliant. He questioned everything Lan Zhan said, ignored every one of his orders, and did things in his own way, every time. He laughed when Lan Zhan told him to sit down, raised an eyebrow when Lan Zhan talked about discipline, and pretended not to hear him when he said things that should be obvious, like ‘don’t talk with food in your mouth’ or ‘don’t put your legs on the library table’.

It was infuriating. Lan Zhan was usually intimidating enough that people ended up being quiet around him, anyway. Enforcing his decisions when it came to projects was easy, almost annoyingly so. But Wei Ying had a million ideas of his own, and bounced them off of him with a quickness of mind that both impressed and distressed Lan Zhan to his core.

It was new.

Lan Zhan came out of their first duo presentation feeling a thrill in his stomach he never felt before. He hadn’t commanded everything, and still, their work came out perfect. It was more creative, more explosive, than he would usually do by himself, but this was just as good, if not better, for having more color to it. Lan Zhan didn’t have to make every decision, and it was still the best partnered experience of his life.

He wasn’t in control of everything, and it was still… good.

As soon as a new duo project came along, Lan Zhan went to the teacher and made the same request he had before. The teacher, having loved their work together, promptly accepted it.

And so had every other teacher Lan Zhan asked, over and over again, whenever he heard there would be work to be done as a duo. He and Wei Ying partnered up in their next presentation, and the next, until eventually they started falling into an easy flow of working together. Until Wei Ying started sitting by his side in class almost every day, and turning to him with a huge smile on his face at the slightest mention of any duo assignments.

Like their partnership was a certainty, now. Like Lan Zhan himself was becoming a certainty in his life.

And Lan Zhan wanted it. Wanted him.

It was embarrassing how fast he fell in love.

-

Lan Zhan was never naive.

He knew the people he was interested in. The things he was interested in. When he decided that it was time to have some kind of new experience, he planned for it and went after it, without much effort at all.

That was the case with his first kiss, when he was 16 years old. It was the case with his first time, when he was 17. It was even the case with his first drink, although that was something he never wanted to repeat again.

The only thing that ever made him stumble was BDSM.

He knew he liked it. He caught himself reading about it, and identifying with it, more and more as each year went by. The mere thought of it was exciting to him. He wanted that experience, too, the focus on that single moment, the emotional and physical release that came with it, the hours of bliss that were promised to follow.

But when it came to actually trying… there was always something missing.

He tried being a dominant. It was what other people thought he would be, with his cold expression and aloof attitude. He thought that his tendency to boss people around and to be demanding with things meant that he would want it, too.

But the more he tried, the more uncomfortable he felt. He lacked both the creativity for coming up with new scenes and the dirty talking skills he seemed to need. He had no real interest in holding power over anyone. His scenes ended up mere shadows of sadism, with no real power exchange, because his heart wasn’t in it.

Because he didn’t want it. He wanted to not have to think about anything, for once. He wanted to relax. He wanted the stress relief, the out of body experience, that he often heard he was supposed to get from this. Instead, he was getting hours of headaches about his next scene, thinking too much, and it felt overwhelming. Like just another responsibility.

He almost gave up on BDSM altogether. He almost counted his losses and let it go, deciding it wasn’t, after all, for him.

And then, suddenly, there was Wei Ying.

Wei Ying was flirty, touchy, and loud. He was tumultuous and unrestrained. He was the reason for the constant fluttering in Lan Zhan’s stomach and the loud thundering of his pulse. He didn’t expect anything from Lan Zhan, rejected all his attempts to control him, and pulled the ground from under his feet every time they talked to each other.

He was confident. Demanding. He wanted attention, and he got it. He made Lan Zhan feel completely out of breath. Out of control.

And Wei Ying was also not careful at all.

During college, he would get excited about something he saw, and grab Lan Zhan’s arm hard enough to bruise. He’d bump their shoulders with all the strength he had, and then laugh when Lan Zhan swayed from it, almost as if he didn’t believe he could be strong enough to move him. He’d come up behind Lan Zhan and put him in rough hugs that felt more like he wanted to start a fight, all of it with a grin on his face. He took things from Lan Zhan’s hands, then smiled wickedly at him, challenging to come take it back. He wrapped an arm in a chokehold around Lan Zhan’s neck and pulled him closer to tease him, too tight. So tight, that Lan Zhan thought that it would choke him.

So tight, that Lan Zhan wanted it to choke him.

He wanted it to bruise.

It wasn’t until Lan Zhan caught himself staring admiringly at a recent mark Wei Ying had left on his arm, when trying to keep him from storming off, that it all clicked inside his head.

BDSM got a lot easier after that.

-

Lan Zhan stands in front of his bedroom mirror, completely naked, and checks his own reflection.

His skin is still dripping from the shower he took, and the ends of his hair are wet, clinging to his back. Soon, he will have to face the day, get ready, and go to work. Still, he doesn’t bother with drying his body yet. His mind is focused on one thing, and one thing only.

He steps closer to the mirror, and carefully searches his own body for bruises.

Being Wei Ying’s sub still felt like a dream he constructed for himself. Every time they met for a scene, Wei Ying left new, prettier marks on him, and Lan Zhan acquired the habit of admiring them when he found himself missing Wei Ying’s touch, or thinking that he made the entire thing up in his head.

Slowly, Lan Zhan runs his fingers around his hips, where the fading marks of Wei Ying’s digits are barely visible. They don’t hurt anymore, just visual memories of when they played the last time, but Lan Zhan presses down on them anyway, just to check.

He doesn’t feel anything, not here, but these aren’t the only bruises he still has.

He inches his hand up all the way to his neck, where there’s a fading yellow hickey. He still needs to apply makeup to cover it every day, but he wishes he didn’t have to. He wishes he could simply let everyone see the kinds of things he is willing to let Wei Ying do to him. The kind of things Wei Ying wants, unbelievably, to do to him.

Lan Zhan slides his hand down to his chest, and circles his fingers around his nipple. Here, there’s a bigger bruise, in the shape of Wei Ying’s teeth. It’s taking longer to fade, and he is glad for it. Wei Ying hasn’t touched him since last saturday, after their last scene. This is a good reminder to have. It makes everything feel real, tangible. It makes Lan Zhan feel his.

He presses down on the bruise, and feels the ghost of the pain he’s always trying to chase. Humming to himself, he scrapes his nails over it, and then digs them in, just where the teeth marks were supposed to be. It doesn’t sting anymore, but if he goes hard enough, it still feels a little tender, deep down. Lan Zhan feels a shudder down his spine when he remembers just how the mark got there. Just how tight Wei Ying was hugging him, while he bent down and sucked his nipple until the skin around it was red. Just how hard Lan Zhan was, waiting for whatever would come next.

His cock twitches, and Lan Zhan wraps his other hand around it to give it a single tug, before he remembers he can’t. Wei Ying doesn’t allow him to masturbate without asking, and so far, even though he needed it, he hasn’t asked once.

He keeps his hand there, just touching, feeling as his cock swells in his hand. He wonders, in the back of his mind, what Wei Ying thinks of the fact that he hasn’t mentioned jerking off since he was forbidden to do it without permission. If Wei Ying thinks he’s being good, or if he thinks Lan Zhan is boring. Holding back too much. He is always holding back, these days.

He looks at his phone, tempted to just… ask for it. He could. Wei Ying would probably make him work for it, tease him to annoyance before he let him have just a little bit. He would ask for a picture, maybe, and Lan Zhan would send it to him. Maybe he would even call, and Lan Zhan would get to hear how low Wei Ying’s Dom voice can get, how good he sounds when he’s giving orders.

His hand moves before his brain catches up to it, stroking his cock from base to tip, and then back. Lan Zhan hisses, and takes his hand away like it burns. He can’t do this, no matter how good it feels. He can’t. Wei Ying hasn’t allowed it.

He takes another look in the mirror, and for a single second, he can almost imagine Wei Ying behind him, leaning against his back, meeting his eyes through the reflection.

“I want to give you everything you need,” Wei Ying whispered to him in that poor lit bathroom of a noisy club. “Can I?” he asked, breath hitting the back of Lan Zhan’s neck. “Will you let me?”

Lan Zhan swallows hard, trying to compose himself. He will be late for work, if he stops to go over this memory once again. He already thinks about it too often, during the many restless nights he’s had ever since this relationship started.

“You want me to be your Dom, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying’s voice echoes in his mind. Lan Zhan turns away from the mirror, ears heating, and starts putting on his clothes for work. “You have to show me how much you want it.”

He stops at the drawer where he folds his ties to decide which one to wear. His eyes land on a wine colored one, kept separate from the rest, and a surge of barely contained lust makes his mouth feel dry. He completely forgot about it.

The tie is from their last scene. It was the most intense scene Lan Zhan had ever been in, and it marked many firsts in his life. His first time being in Wei Ying’s house. His first time in deep subspace. His first time feeling what it was like to be fucked by the person who had been the object of all of his fantasies, ever since he was 20 years old.

“Look at me,” Wei Ying said, shifting a hand under them to angle himself, the desire dripping from his eyes. “Don’t close your eyes.”

But Wei Ying didn’t need to ask. Lan Zhan always kept his eyes on him for as long as he could. 

He felt, after everything was done, like he needed something to remember it, something from that day that he could keep. The red tie Wei Ying used to tie his hands together was dirty, and he heard Wei Ying murmuring to himself that maybe it wasn’t worth washing at all. He threw it back on the couch, probably to deal with later, but Lan Zhan took it and kept it with him. When Wei Ying came back to eat, he didn’t even mention it was missing. He didn’t even notice.

Lan Zhan looks at the tie now, completely clean and looking only slightly less decent than his own designer ones, and wonders why Wei Ying would want to dispose of it. It’s good enough to wear. Their work isn’t that fancy, even if Lan Zhan does enjoy dressing nicely. But wearing something that is Wei Ying’s…

He shivers at the thought, picking the tie up and putting it on with practiced ease. Just as he is styling his hair, his phone makes the particular bubble pop sound he reserves for Wei Ying’s messages. Lan Zhan checks it right away.

<Wei Ying>

lunch today?

and no saying you’re too busy!

it’s friday and I have cool news

Lan Zhan’s heart tightens and then settles in his chest. He answers immediately, saying he will be there.

He only just refrains from saying he can’t wait.

-

Wei Ying knew about his feelings.

Lan Zhan was sure of it, deep in his heart. He was careless, back then. He never used to keep himself from staring at him. Sometimes, he and Wei Ying would share moments of eye contact so long Lan Zhan could almost see himself leaning in. He was sure he was obvious about it, and that is why Wei Ying had to put a stop to it.

It was in their last year of college. Wei Ying suddenly started smiling awkwardly when he caught Lan Zhan looking. He drew back from all the physical closeness they used to share, and to all the clinging Lan Zhan had grown accustomed to, coming from him.

As the years went by, Lan Zhan had to watch Wei Ying grow apart from him. It was worse in the beginning, when they went their separate ways and Wei Ying’s texts became scarce. Lan Zhan had to live through his Instagram posts, and his occasional twitter ramblings.

It only got better once they started working in the same company. Lan Zhan had no idea if Wei Ying had forgotten about it, or simply thought Lan Zhan had gotten over him, but gradually, slowly, they became friends again. They went back to talking, and to eating together, and to helping in each other’s projects.

Lan Zhan still had to be careful, though. He didn’t want to reveal too much of himself and have Wei Ying retreating again. So when Wei Ying got to work each morning, Lan Zhan forced himself not to look up right away, waiting a few minutes, or hours, to meet his eyes. When Wei Ying asked him to lunch, he was careful not to say yes every time, like he desperately wanted to. When Wei Ying almost leaned into him, almost touched him, almost flirted, and then immediately held himself back, Lan Zhan clenched his jaw, and pretended not to notice.

It was hard. But it was Wei Ying. And having him this way was better than not having him at all.

And then, one day, Lan Zhan looked up at him, and found Wei Ying looking right back.

Really looking.

He had no idea how to hold himself back anymore.

-

“Lan Zhan!”

Lan Zhan turns to the voice he dreams about, letting his eyes find him on the street. Wei Ying half runs and half skips in his direction, coming to meet him just in front of the restaurant’s door.

“Sorry I didn’t wait for you to come down, I had to stop at the pharmacy,” Wei Ying says when he gets close enough, shaking a bag in his hand like Lan Zhan can see what’s inside it. “Did you wait too long?”

Lan Zhan tries not to stare. Wei Ying is always so beautiful, especially in his loose tie and wrinkled dress pants that are definitely too tight for their job. Or maybe they just look tight, because Wei Ying is blessed with the most beautiful body Lan Zhan has ever seen. He never quite follows the dress code, and it makes Lan Zhan insane, how he never seems to properly button his sleeves, how his hair is always just undone enough to be devastatingly attractive.

He knows some people wonder how Wei Ying even keeps the job, how he gets away with so much. Because Wei Ying is a genius at whatever he does, Lan Zhan always wants to say. He is never in the mood for conflict, though, so he settles for glaring until the person speaking goes away, embarrassed.

“No,” Lan Zhan says after a while, remembering to speak. “I got here not a minute ago.”

“Good,” Wei Ying smiles. “Let’s go! I’m starving.”

He pulls Lan Zhan inside the buffet restaurant and they arrange their own plates before weighing them. Wei Ying gets an absurd amount of rice for himself, and a few pieces of fish. He reaches for the fries, but before he can get them, he takes one guilty look at Lan Zhan’s face, and takes some broccoli instead.

Lan Zhan smiles to himself, and takes as many fries as he can along with his usual choice of meal.

“God, I can’t handle another hour of serious work today,” Wei Ying sits heavily on the chair and yanks his tie off, throwing it inside his pharmacy bag. “Why is the week always so long?”

Lan Zhan watches as he undoes just the first button of his shirt, then carefully sets his plate and glass on the table.

“It’s as long as it always is,” he says, but there’s no heart in it. This week has felt particularly long for him, too. He had a lot of work to do, and Wei Ying had been absent from the office for two entire days, busy with something else. That always made his day feel much longer, and much more tiring.

“That’s bullshit,” Wei Ying points his chopsticks at him. “You’re exhausted. You didn’t even put on earrings today.”

Lan Zhan averts his gaze. It’s still weird, to have Wei Ying noticing details about him. He really did forget earrings this morning, with everything else on his mind.

At least Wei Ying doesn’t notice the tie.

“You said you had news?” Lan Zhan asks. Wei Ying lets down his chopsticks to clap his hands together.

“Right!” he says. “You remember how our old college used to have these periodic week-long events? Where someone from each segment of law comes and gives the students a lecture about their work?”

Lan Zhan perks up in his chair. He remembers it well. He and Wei Ying used to attend most lectures together, and sit in companionable silence through the whole thing. Well, Lan Zhan used to sit in silence. Wei Ying used to text him endlessly about his opinions on what the person on stage was saying.

“I remember,” he says.

“So…” Wei Ying leans over the table and raises a perfect, thick eyebrow at him. “Guess who’s a guest lecturer in the next one.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes go wide. “Wei Ying.”

“That’s right, Wei Ying!” He nearly yells. A few heads turn their way, but Wei Ying doesn’t seem to care. “Can you believe it? My boss was actually gonna do it, but she’s too busy and said I’d be a better man for the job. They called me yesterday to ask if I was available.”

He says it, then shoves a bunch of food in his mouth, chewing too fast to be healthy. Lan Zhan doesn’t have it in himself to scold him. He tries to show every bit of the pride he’s feeling in his expression, smiling fondly at him.

“That’s amazing, Wei Ying. You’ll do great.”

“I’m so nervous,” Wei Ying’s shoulders fall, but there’s a hint of smile on his lips. “The lectures are over two hours long. I’ve never talked for this long.”

Lan Zhan gives him a look, and Wei Ying chokes on a laugh.

“Lan Zhan, you ‘re so mean,” he says. “What I meant is that I haven’t talked about this subject for this long, not like this, to a bunch of students. I’m really gonna need to prepare.”

“I can help,” Lan Zhan offers, selfishly. He’s always looking forward to spending more time with Wei Ying. This would be the perfect opportunity. “If you would like.”

Wei Ying considers him, biting his pretty, pink bottom lip. “Yeah. I’d definitely like that.”

Lan Zhan holds back a smile, and tries to focus on his plate. He figures he should eat, instead of watching Wei Ying through the whole meal. But Wei Ying shifts in his chair, bumping their feet together, and waits until Lan Zhan meets his eyes again.

“Are you sure you won’t be too busy?” he asks. “You already work so much.”

“I don’t mind,” Lan Zhan says. “You work a lot, too.”

“Eh, I barely do anything,” Wei Ying waves his hand at him.

Lan Zhan doesn’t think doing a day’s work in under two hours is barely doing anything. He’s about to say it, when Wei Ying leans in over the table and lets a playful smile cover his face.

“Most of the time I’m too busy staring at your pretty face, Lan Zhan.”

Lan Zhan freezes, eyes glued on him. Wei Ying looks back almost innocently, like he hasn’t said anything worth noting.

“Wei Ying.”

“What?” Wei Ying leans his chin on his hand. “I told you I’m always looking at you.”

Lan Zhan clenches his teeth together, and tries to keep his heart in check. This is the hardest part about being in a platonic, but still very sexual, relationship with him. Wei Ying flirts with him, teases him – kisses him, holds him – like Lan Zhan is the only person in the world he ever wants to look at. It’s hard to remember there are no feelings behind it.

“Still,” he says. “If you need help with anything, I would be happy to help you.”

“Ay, Lan Zhan, so kind to me,” Wei Ying smiles. “I’ll accept your help, then. But I won’t get anything done. You’re too cute when you’re thinking hard,” he drops his eyes to Lan Zhan’s lips. “I’ll be distracted the whole time.”

Lan Zhan feels a hot rush of blood climbing up his face, every bone in his body telling him to flirt back, telling him which answer he should give. It’s counterintuitive, even now, to flirt with Wei Ying. He has spent so long trying not to. But now, in these new dynamics they’re carefully building, he thinks he’s allowed to, a little bit. Wei Ying always seems pleased when he does.

“Keep me and use me as a distraction,” he says, voice low, and delights in the way Wei Ying’s eyes widen. “For when you need a break.”

Wei Ying stares at him, slack-jawed, for what feels like eternity. Lan Zhan doesn’t think he’s imagining the light blush on his gorgeous cheeks, or the slow way he licks his lips before speaking.

“You know,” Wei Ying finally whispers. “I don't think you'll be this cheeky after I collar you and have you on a leash.”

Lan Zhan's throat goes dry.

They had a conversation about collaring after Lan Zhan said, in a fit of bravery, that he wanted Wei Ying to collar him. They talked about what it meant to each of them, when they were going to use it, and other details that only made Lan Zhan go crazy with anticipation. In the beginning, Wei Ying was sending him pictures of several different designs, but by Wednesday the messages stopped. 'I ordered it,' he said, but refused to show Lan Zhan a picture of which one. It had only been a few days, but Lan Zhan could already feel the curiosity eating at him.

"Then collar me already," he says, feeling a little more daring than usual.

The corner of Wei Ying’s mouth drags up in a sideways smile. “Eager.”

"Very," Lan Zhan says.

They stare at each other for another heartbeat, until Wei Ying huffs out a cute little giggle. He gives him a playful kick under the table, the strength just measured enough to be light but for him to still feel it. Lan Zhan tries not to feel hot at how much better Wei Ying is at controlling his strength now. He knows just how strong Wei Ying can get, when the situation asks for it. When Lan Zhan asks for it.

“We’re eating,” Wei Ying says, and his voice sounds slightly different, a little rougher. “Behave.”

It doesn’t sound like an order. Lan Zhan decides to take it as one, anyway.

He focuses on his food, and lets Wei Ying think he’s being sneaky when he steals all the fries Lan Zhan put on his plate earlier.

They eat mostly in silence, with Wei Ying giving a few details about his lecture, and Lan Zhan heartily listening to his words. This, at least, is familiar, as is the skipping of his heart every time Wei Ying so much as chuckles near him. Their Dom/sub relationship might be new, might be still developing, but being with Wei Ying is easy. Lan Zhan knows he isn’t expected to say a lot of words back, but he still listens carefully, and offers his opinion, here and there.

They finish eating and start walking back, with Wei Ying walking close to him, practically glued to his arms. They’re still discussing the plans Wei Ying has had so far, and about how excited he is. Lan Zhan hasn’t seen him talking so passionately about something in a very long time. He forgot just how gorgeous he looked doing it.

“But I couldn’t really sleep yesterday, because after I got the call, I started researching methods to give, like, engaging lectures,” he says, moving his hands as he talks. “And you know how I am when I get going. I couldn’t let it go. It was 3 am when I finally decided to go to bed.”

Wei Ying’s eyes are shining. Lan Zhan loves it when he gets excited about something. It’s impossible to look away.

They’re walking slowly, almost annoyingly so. Lan Zhan wishes they didn’t have to walk at all. He wishes he could stay here, listening to him talking about everything and anything. Wei Ying is mesmerizing to watch, especially like this.

“I know I’m not the worst speaker ever, but I really think there must be a science behind keeping the attention of a bunch– Lan Zhan!”

Wei Ying grabs his arm and yanks him back, keeping him from stepping right onto the street. A car goes by right in front of him, honking at them, and the ripple of wind it causes sends his hair flying. Lan Zhan stumbles back into Wei Ying’s body, blinking fast.

“Fuck, are you okay?” Wei Ying asks, his grip strong on Lan Zhan’s arm.

Lan Zhan doesn’t answer. He looks down, focused on the fingers around his bicep, warm even through his shirt. Wei Ying’s hold of him is firm and steadying, and it reminds him a little too much of something he’s been trying not to beg for, the entire week.

He swallows, and doesn’t know if his heart is racing from the car or from his own, betraying thoughts. When he looks up, Wei Ying is staring at him, and he hasn’t let his arm go.

“Lan Zhan?” he asks, squeezing his hand a little. Lan Zhan inhales, sharp, and doesn’t look away.

Like a switch turning in his mind, Wei Ying’s gaze changes into something else, something Lan Zhan has learned to recognize very well in the past month. Wei Ying looks right into his eyes, dark and searching, and tightens his grip to the point of bruising.

Lan Zhan wants to make an embarrassing sound. Instead, he clenches his jaw, and forces himself to stay quiet. Wei Ying tugs him closer, fast and rough, and Lan Zhan takes a tiny step forward, into him, until their bodies are almost touching.

“Wei Ying,” he whispers. Wei Ying’s jaw goes tight, and somehow, Lan Zhan knows he said the wrong thing. “Gege.”

Wei Ying licks his lips, the inviting pink of his tongue showing for a brief, tempting second. Lan Zhan doesn’t dare move. He wants Wei Ying to kiss him right here, in the middle of the street. His body is screaming for it. They haven’t kissed in so long. Almost an entire week, now. It’s not fair to ask Lan Zhan to go on so long without it.

The traffic lights change. Wei Ying straightens his body and blinks away from him. He looks around, seeming to decide something.

“Lan Zhan,” he says, focusing on him again. “You’re looking like…” He trails off.

“Like what?” Lan Zhan asks.

“Like you want to be good for me,” Wei Ying says, voice low. “Right now, in the middle of work.”

Please, Lan Zhan keeps himself from saying. “I would.”

“We only have a few minutes of lunch left,” Wei Ying stares at him intently. “Can you be a little late?”

Lan Zhan nods, and Wei Ying drags him across the street.

“Change of plans, then,” Wei Ying whispers, almost to himself, as they approach their company building. “Go inside first. 7th floor bathroom.”

Lan Zhan furrows his eyebrows. The 7th floor has been closed for renovations since last year. There’s no one in it, but the bathroom and office doors are kept closed and locked.

Wei Ying sees the confusion on his face, and reaches inside his back pocket to get his keys. He takes one key out of the keychain and hands it to him.

“Here. Wait for me there, okay?”

“Okay,” Lan Zhan says. Wei Ying lets him go, and Lan Zhan misses his touch immediately. “How did you get this?”

“I made one in my first year here. The keys are the same for the bathrooms on every floor,” Wei Ying shrugs. “It wasn’t hard.”

Inventive, Lan Zhan thinks, unable to look away. Resourceful. Smart. Absurdly hot.

“Bunny,” Wei Ying says, and the name demands Lan Zhan’s attention. “Go.”

Lan Zhan goes.

-

He reaches the bathroom fast, but luckily doesn’t have to wait for long before Wei Ying walks inside too, locking the door behind him. They are completely alone on this entire floor, but Lan Zhan feels safe that no one can actually walk in. Wei Ying turns, putting the keys in his pocket again, and smirks at him. 

Lan Zhan almost goes to him, before stopping himself and staying in place. The bright white lights feel harsh, but Wei Ying still manages to look beautiful in them, with his tie still nowhere to be seen. He has his shoulder bag in his hand, and he lays it on the sink before taking a step in his direction.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, but he can’t hide the excitement in his voice. It makes Lan Zhan all the more sure about it.

“Mn.”

Wei Ying runs a hand through his hair, laughing a little to himself. “Good,” he says.

He takes another step forward, and Lan Zhan holds his breath, anticipating his touch. Wei Ying likes teasing him for a long time before doing anything, but maybe, since today they have less time, he will indulge Lan Zhan a little bit faster. Maybe it will be a quick handjob, or even mutual, as their first time. Maybe–

“Take off your clothes,” Wei Ying says.

Lan Zhan frowns, wondering what Wei Ying has planned. Surely, if he has to remove all of his clothes, it isn’t something quick or simple. He takes a look at the bag again, dying to know what’s inside, but keeps the question sealed behind his lips. Wei Ying sees the curiosity in his expression, anyway.

“I’ve been keeping something in my locker for the past week,” he says. “I was hoping we’d get to use it, sometime.”

Then why haven’t we used it yet, Lan Zhan doesn’t ask. He removes his shirt instead, unbuttoning it fast, looking for a place to lay it.

“The sink,” Wei Ying says, like he can read his thoughts. Lan Zhan raises an eyebrow.

“Is that clean?” he asks, fighting not to wrinkle his nose.

Wei Ying lets out a laugh, and closes the distance between them to take the shirt from Lan Zhan’s hand.

“Clean?” he asks. “Are you afraid to get dirty, bunny?”

Lan Zhan doesn’t answer. He’s not afraid to get dirty, but his clothes are white, and–

“You’re thinking too much,” Wei Ying warns him. “Pants off.”

Lan Zhan does as he’s told. He takes his socks off too, and the shock of the cold tiles on his warm feet makes him blink fast. The floor is dusty, yes, but it doesn’t seem to be dirty. No one has been here in a very long time.

With one amused look at him, Wei Ying puts Lan Zhan’s shoes on the sink, and then sets his clothes on top, carefully balanced, not touching the marble. Lan Zhan’s gaze softens as he does it, incredibly fond of how considerate, how caring Wei Ying is.

That is, until Wei Ying looks at him, and fakes a half-bow.

“Will that do, my lord?” Wei Ying mocks him, one eyebrow raised. “Or should I sanitize my hands, as well? Do you want me to wear gloves when I touch you?”

Lan Zhan gets flashes of Wei Ying wearing black gloves, made of latex, leather, nitrile. He imagines him putting them on and wiggling his fingers into it, how cold his touch would feel through the material. How amazing he would look, if he paired it with a revealing outfit, tighter even than the pants he has on now.

Wei Ying watches him as the thoughts go through his head, and his eyes go dark.

“You do,” he says, reaching out to take Lan Zhan’s chin in his hand. “Bunny, if you wanted me to wear gloves for you, all you had to do was ask.”

“Wear gloves for me,” Lan Zhan asks right away. He hadn’t thought about it before, but now that the image is in his head, he can’t help but want it.

Wei Ying turns his chin to the side, observing him, and opens a pretty smile. Lan Zhan’s eyes are drawn to his lips, the fullness of them, the redness. He wants to pinch them. He wants to bite them until they’re swollen and scraped raw.

“I’ll think about it,” Wei Ying says. “After you get naked.”

Lan Zhan doesn’t take his eyes off of him as he takes off his underwear. Wei Ying lets his gaze travel down, down, as he always does when Lan Zhan undresses. He seems to like his body, and like it a lot, if the way he bites his bottom lip is any indication. Lan Zhan stands a little taller, drinking in his attention, glad to be able to please him, even like this.

Do you like what you see? he wants to ask. Do you like me?

“So gorgeous, bunny,” Wei Ying’s hands come to grab both sides of his waist, squeezing him as he pulls Lan Zhan in his direction. “How can you be this pretty?”

His eyes travel up slowly, following the curves of Lan Zhan’s torso, his chest, his collarbone. Wei Ying’s fingers on him feel like scorching fire, and for a moment, Lan Zhan almost forgets himself, and pulls him tight against him.

“Gege,” he says instead, satisfied when Wei Ying’s hungry gaze comes up to meet him. A shock of desire runs down his spine, and Lan Zhan’s cock hardens between his legs from that single look.

“Will you be good?” Wei Ying whispers, looking up at him through his eyelashes. “From now, until after our shifts are over, will you be mine?”

I’m always yours.

“Yes,” Lan Zhan says, wanting nothing more. “I will.”

Wei Ying takes his hand and brings it up to his lips to press a tiny, wet bite on it. Every bone in Lan Zhan’s body tells him to grab him by the waist, to kiss him senseless, to grind against him. He swallows down his needs, and stays very still. Wei Ying always denies him for longer, when he’s too eager. He needs to wait.

It’s nearly impossible to wait.

“Do you remember your safeword?” Wei Ying asks, then slips two of Lan Zhan’s fingers inside his lips, licking around them. Lan Zhan almost doesn’t answer, focused on the obscene way Wei Ying’s tongue moves.

“Freeze,” he says. He wonders if Wei Ying can tell when his voice fails.

Wei Ying drags his tongue on his fingers one last time, then holds the hand up to his face, glancing pointedly at it.

“Gesture?”

Lan Zhan tries snapping with that hand, but the fingers are wet, and there’s barely no sound at all. Wei Ying meets his eyes and lets out a small chuckle. Then he kisses Lan Zhan’s finger, and lets his hand down.

“Even if there’s no sound, I’m always looking at your hands,” he says, in the reassuring voice he uses when he absolutely means it. “Alright?”

“Alright,” he says, breathless.

Sadly – or luckily, seeing as he’s about to pass out with how much he wants to pull Wei Ying in – Wei Ying steps back from him, and reaches into the mysterious bag he brought. Lan Zhan knows he keeps things in the office, like lube and tissues, since they sometimes play before or after hours. But this looks different.

Wei Ying takes out a long string of ropes in red, seemingly resistant material. It’s folded into several loops, way longer than the ones he used to tie Lan Zhan to a chair in their first proper scene. Lan Zhan’s body immediately responds to the sight of it, heating all the way down to his toes.

“I thought it was time we started on some easy public stuff,” Wei Ying says almost casually, as he lets the loops fall open and measures where the exact middle of the rope is. “Don’t move.” He winks. “I’ll move you.”

Wei Ying puts the rope around his neck, then ties the ends together over his sternum, right above his heart. The material, surprisingly, doesn’t feel rough. It feels comfortable. Wei Ying glances up at him, a question in his eyes, and Lan Zhan nods once.

“I’ve been wondering…” Wei Ying whispers, glancing up at him as he ties a knot over his solar plexus, “if our first secret public adventure should be a nice vibrating plug up your ass.”

Lan Zhan forgets every single thought in his head.

Wei Ying watches his reaction closely, sliding the ropes down and in between Lan Zhan’s legs. He pulls them up behind him, hooking the ends on the loop around his neck, and pulls.

Lan Zhan hisses through gritted teeth, and Wei Ying leans in behind him.

“I would love to watch you squirming all day, sitting on it.”

“Yes,” Lan Zhan says, resisting the urge to lean back into his touch. “I would like that.”

“I know,” Wei Ying says. “But we have to start a little less intense.”

Lan Zhan’s tongue feels glued to the roof of his mouth. He wants it to be intense, but he trusts Wei Ying to make the best decision. He swallows back his needs, and follows Wei Ying’s movements as he comes back around.

“That sounded like a frustrated little groan there,” Wei Ying teases. “You’d rather have the plug?”

Lan Zhan recognizes it for the trap it is.

“I want whatever Gege gives me,” he answers.

“Good,” he gives him a satisfied grin. “You’re being so good today.”

Lan Zhan melts at the praise. Wei Ying circles his arms on his torso to wrap the ropes under his armpits, moving his arms around however he wants.

“What are you gonna think about?” Wei Ying asks. Lan Zhan focuses on his voice, his touch, feeling almost hypnotized. “When you move, and you feel these on your skin?”

“You, Gege,” Lan Zhan says.

Wei Ying bites back a smile. “And when the ropes tug on your skin... When they hug you tight and keep you from taking a deep breath.” Wei Ying looks up at him, sliding a finger on the piece around his neck. “Who’s controlling how you breathe, gorgeous?”

Lan Zhan suppresses a tremble. “You are.”

“Good boy,” Wei Ying says, low and raspy in the quiet bathroom. “Then breathe.”

Lan Zhan obeys. When Wei Ying talks like that, there’s little else he can do.

“Tight?”

Lan Zhan shakes his head, then remembers Wei Ying likes verbal confirmation. “No.”

“Hmmm,” Wei Ying taps his chin, holding the ends of the ropes in one hand. “We can improve on that.”

He wraps his arms around Lan Zhan again, repeating the process. Wei Ying is focused while he ties it, looking at him with an almost clinical eye, so professional and good Lan Zhan felt his own heartbeat calming down with it.

It is… grounding. Wei Ying touches him and moves him around however he pleases, only stopping to ask if he feels comfortable, and to order him to breathe again. His voice is soothing, calm. Lan Zhan forgets where they are, forgets anything else that isn’t them, right now.

By the time Wei Ying’s done tying him, Lan Zhan’s eyes have closed entirely on their own.

“Hey,” Wei Ying's voice cuts through the fog of his mind. “Don’t switch off, bunny. You still have to work.”

Lan Zhan nods, but he doesn’t think he processes the words that well. It’s impossible to focus on anything else, when Wei Ying is so close to him.

So, so close, and so pretty. Lan Zhan’s mouth feels tingly with how much he wants to lean in.

“Gege,” he says, then licks his own, dry lips. 

Wei Ying doesn’t look at him. His eyes are focused somewhere on Lan Zhan’s lower belly, lower, his lip caught between his teeth. He puts a hand on Lan Zhan’s waist, feather-light, and then slides the tips of his fingers to the soft skin under his navel.

“Gege…” Lan Zhan says again, watching as Wei Ying presses his palm on his stomach, his thumb brushing dangerously close to Lan Zhan’s cock.

“What is it, bunny?” Wei Ying asks, quiet. Lan Zhan swallows, already feeling the rush of blood running up to his ears. He has been good this entire time, right? He can ask for this.

“Kiss me,” he whispers. Wei Ying looks up at him, almost like he’s surprised. As if he doesn’t know his lips are all Lan Zhan ever thinks about. As if Lan Zhan doesn’t beg to be kissed, every time they do this. “Kiss me,” he says again, a little louder. “Please. Once. I–”

Wei Ying is on him before he can properly finish begging, pressing their lips together in a hot, wet kiss.

Something inside Lan Zhan snaps, and all of his restraint is suddenly gone. He wraps his arms around Wei Ying’s body, hugging him tightly as he moves their lips together in a hungry frenzy.

Wei Ying slides his tongue inside his mouth, teeth scraping on his lips, messy and uncaring. He grabs Lan Zhan by the waist, the hair, the ass, and Lan Zhan moans when he feels Wei Ying’s hot touch on his skin, still so new.

Their legs get tangled together, and Lan Zhan is pushed back against the sink, barely flinching when his skin touches cold marble. Wei Ying bites his lip, and Lan Zhan grabs him harder, pulls him closer, sliding his hands down to Wei Ying’s ass to squeeze him even tighter against him.

Lan Zhan slides their hips together, feeling his cock rubbing against Wei Ying’s clothes, and realizes with a deep, dark satisfaction that Wei Ying is just as hard as he is.

“Ge–” he says, the name turning into a whimper when Wei Ying leans down to lick his neck. He rolls his hips again, wanting friction, wanting release, wanting anything at all.

Suddenly, Wei Ying pulls back, grabbing him by the hips and pushing him against the sink, putting distance between them. Lan Zhan tries following, tries fighting it, but Wei Ying’s bruising grip makes him weak, reminding him of what they’re doing.

Wei Ying’s shoulders move fast with how hard he’s breathing, panting through parted lips. Lan Zhan is the same, but he’s used to feeling breathless when Wei Ying is this close.

“Enough,” he says, his tone final. Lan Zhan swallows, used now to being made hard and then denied, but the frustration still courses through him, making him want to protest.

“But–”

“I want you to do your work well, like the good boy you are,” Wei Ying says. “Can you do that?”

Lan Zhan closes his eyes and nods once, still catching his breath. When he opens them, Wei Ying’s head is tilted, and he’s searching for something in Lan Zhan’s expression he isn’t sure he can show.

“Did you hear me?” Wei Ying asks. “Don’t slack off today, and I’ll see you in your office. Understood?”

“Yes,” Lan Zhan says.

“You look so hazy,” Wei Ying murmurs, rubbing his thumbs soothingly on Lan Zhan’s waist. “Give me a color.”

Lan Zhan blinks back just enough awareness into his body to give him an honest answer.

“Green,” he says. Bright green. Neon green. Screaming, flashing green, all around them. Nothing Wei Ying did to him had even come close to another color, yet.

“Alright,” Wei Ying says. And then, unbelievably, devastatingly, presses another kiss to Lan Zhan’s lips. “Then give me your phone."

Lan Zhan walks over to his clothes and hands his phone to him.

"Sit on the sink," he orders.

Lan Zhan leans back on the marble with one hand on each side of his body, knowing exactly what comes next. Wei Ying hadn't taken any pictures of him yet, or even asked for any besides a few tame ones, but it was a part of Lan Zhan's kink list that he promised to get into. He lifts one leg up slightly, and hears the click of the phone when Wei Ying snaps a picture. Licking his lips, Lan Zhan leans his head back on the mirror behind him, and Wei Ying snaps two more.

When he's satisfied, Wei Ying walks up to him, and shows him each picture slowly. Lan Zhan's eyes go wide when he sees how good the pattern Wei Ying made on him looks, the contrast of the deep red on his skin making the entire thing look almost... artistic. His cock looks painfully swollen, squeezed in between two ends of the ropes, and the only hint of Wei Ying in the picture are his arms, barely visible in the mirror reflection.

"Do you like it?" Wei Ying asks. Lan Zhan breathes in, his lungs constricted by the ropes, and nods.

"Yes," he says. He'd taken pictures of himself before, but never like this. His face isn't visible in any of them, and still, it feels... Forbidden. To have evidence of himself, looking this vulnerable. To have evidence that Wei Ying was the one who took them. 

Wei Ying sends the pictures to himself right in front of Lan Zhan's eyes, and Lan Zhan almost loses his breath with how much of himself he is putting on Wei Ying's hands.

Lan Zhan trusts him with this, he realizes. He had an idea about it before, but this is different. The knowledge makes him shake as he looks up, staring into Wei Ying's eyes.

He trusts Wei Ying with everything.

Wei Ying puts his phone away, and presses his body in between Lan Zhan's legs.

"Look at how sexy you are," Wei Ying leans in closer to whisper in his ear. "No one's ever gonna know how pretty you look underneath your clothes."

"You'll know," Lan Zhan says, before he can stop himself. Wei Ying pulls back to look him in the eyes, a delighted grin on his lips.

"Yeah," he says. "Just me."

Wei Ying tilts his chin up and gives Lan Zhan another kiss, pushing him back until he's pressed against the mirror. Lan Zhan wraps his arms around him, lightheaded, and drinks in his taste until there's nothing else on his tongue, or on his mind.

"Okay, okay," Wei Ying steps back again, leaving him to the cold air. "Put your clothes back on.”

Lan Zhan forces himself to move, to think, to act. This is when their little microcosmos shatters, when the outside world becomes real once again. They are not alone in the universe. Wei Ying still has to work for another 3 or 4 hours. And Lan Zhan still has a staff meeting to attend.

He gets dressed slowly, the ropes restraining his movements more than he thought they would. It was easy to forget about them, while Wei Ying’s hands were still on him, but now whenever he bends, he feels how expertly done each knot is.

"Bunny," Wei Ying calls, yanking him out of his thoughts. The commanding tone is back in his voice, and for a moment, Lan Zhan forgets to breathe. "When gege ties you up nice and tight and shows you who you belong to, what do you say?"

Lan Zhan lowers his eyes.

"Thank you, Gege."

Wei Ying smiles.

"Good boy."

-

The meeting goes excruciatingly slow.

It takes Lan Zhan a while to get used to walking with the ropes around him, and to not visibly wince when they move. Sitting proves to be even more difficult, the change in position making the ropes graze against his skin, catching on his crotch and making his entire body tremble.

He sits through the meeting without saying much of anything, but luckily, no one thinks that’s strange. The man speaking during most of the meeting has a boring, monotone voice, and Lan Zhan feels his mind drifting back to Wei Ying’s smile, Wei Ying’s warmth, every few seconds.

He doesn’t mean to be as distracted as he is. He is working, after all. This is important. Or at least, he thinks it is, if only he could remember what the meeting was even about.

Lan Zhan closes his eyes and stays completely still, trying to listen. His body feels so hot, it’s distracting. Thinking of Wei Ying always gets him like this, and the ropes are nothing but a constant reminder of his touch. Lan Zhan wonders, in the back of his mind, if his face is at all flushed. Part of him hopes it is. The other, more rational part of him, the part that wants to keep his job, crushes the first part down.

Staying still works. Lan Zhan gets a little more aware of his surroundings, a little less focused on his own body. He manages to nod along to something the man is saying, and even offers insight when he asks them a question. It relaxes him a little, makes him more present, and for a moment, he forgets he’s wearing the ropes at all.

Lan Zhan takes a deep breath in. Wrong. Right, exactly how he wants to feel, but wrong. The ropes pull against the expansion of his chest, constricting his lungs, and he exhales sharply enough to catch someone’s eye. He sits straight again, focusing on taking short breaths, and definitely feels his skin flushing this time.

The woman who noticed frowns at him, one second away from asking if he’s feeling well. Lan Zhan glares at her until she looks away.

It’s a shock when everyone claps, signaling that the meeting is over. Mingjue, his boss, sends everyone back to work with a wave. “It’s Friday, look alive!”

Lan Zhan gets up slowly, forcing his face not to react when there’s a pull on his neck as the ropes readjust. He gathers his papers, disappointed when he sees he only wrote about five words on it, and gets ready to leave.

“Lan Zhan,” Mingjue calls, and he freezes. “A word?”

Lan Zhan goes over to his side, dreading what he might say. Did he notice how out of it Lan Zhan was during the meeting? Is he going to complain that he was late after lunch? Are the ropes showing, somehow, even through his suit?

“Yes?” Lan Zhan asks. Outside, he’s sure he looks like the perfect picture of boredom and politeness. Inside, his heart is racing.

Mingjue waits until everyone is out of the room to talk.

“Listen, I wasn’t gonna ask anything…” he scratches the back of his neck. Lan Zhan grabs the papers in his hands a little harder. “But I need to know for sure.”

“Know what?”

“Well,” Mingjue puts his hands inside his pockets, looking more awkward than Lan Zhan has ever seen him. “Do you know if your brother is having dinner with your uncle this Sunday?”

Lan Zhan tries not to visibly relax.

“My brother?”

“It’s just, I know you guys have dinner with him a few times a month.”

“Lunch,” Lan Zhan corrects. “Sundays, every two weeks.”

“Yes, lunch, right!” he rubs his head a little, like he’s sorry he forgot such a small detail. “I’m asking because, you see, I’m planning a surprise for him this Sunday. I need to know if he’s gonna be busy.”

Lan Zhan shakes his head. “He’s not. Lunch with uncle is next week.”

“Great,” Mingjue smiles and makes a little victory fist. “Thanks, Lan Zhan.”

He nods. Mingjue leaves, and Lan Zhan leaves a few seconds later, a strange feeling settling in his chest.

Nie Mingjue is planning a surprise. For his brother, who he is in an apparently very happy relationship with. Lan Zhan is glad things are working out between them, even if he didn’t get a chance to really talk to his brother about it yet. It’s nice to see them being lovable with each other, sharing touches and secret smiles.

But. There’s a small, and very dark part of him, that can’t help but feel a little bit envious. He keeps wondering if he'll ever have a relationship like that, public, and official, and loving.

His relationship with Wei Ying isn’t a secret, but it isn’t conventional, either. It’s easier for everyone if they don’t talk about it. They can’t act like they’re anything in public, because people wouldn’t understand. They're not dating, so Lan Zhan can’t plan him surprise dinners. Wei Ying isn’t his boyfriend, so Lan Zhan can’t introduce him to anyone as such.

It feels a little bit like hopelessness, especially because Lan Zhan has no idea for how long this arrangement between them will last.

He walks to his own office, passing by Wei Ying’s desk on his way, and feels the precise moment his heart stops.

Wei Ying is sitting back on his chair, watching him come. He’s twirling a pen in between his fingers, legs crossed, and a devilish grin on his face. When Lan Zhan meets his eyes, he smiles, and Lan Zhan feels hot blood rising up to his face.

He goes into his office and sits down, leaving the door open so he still can see Wei Ying from there. Wei Ying keeps his eyes on him, not even pretending like he isn’t looking. He winks, and Lan Zhan has to look down so he has time to breathe.

He knows he and Wei Ying will never date. Wei Ying doesn’t want him that way, and Lan Zhan has made his peace with it, even if the feeling still rises like a bubble of desperation in his stomach, every once in a while.

But Wei Ying wants him in other, much less innocent ways. He wants him in this, this play, these dynamics, and he seems to want it to last, too. Lan Zhan needs to focus on that, and not on what he can’t have. This is already way more than he ever imagined getting. And it’s good enough.

It will have to be.

-

Lan Zhan can’t concentrate.

He stares at his computer for hours without a result. Every time he tries to focus, the words all mix together on the screen, and he clenches his teeth, trying for the thousandth time to pay attention to what the documents say.

Just a test, Wei Ying said to him, just as he was leaving the bathroom. To see how you deal with subbing in public.

Lan Zhan looks up, ready to meet Wei Ying’s eyes across the room, and finds him staring at his computer, biting the blue cap on his pen. His hair is starting to fall off from his ponytail, this late in the day, and his entire neck is exposed to the open air.

He wishes he could see, even from this far, the place on Wei Ying’s neck where he still has to apply makeup to hide the hickey Lan Zhan left on him. The hickey that is now a mere yellowish bruise, fading quickly on his gorgeous, golden skin.

If Lan Zhan had it his way, he would go over there now, and suck on his pulsepoint until it became purple again. Wei Ying doesn’t bruise as easily as he does, but that’s good. Lan Zhan likes the challenge. He will, if he is ever allowed, spend hours sucking little marks all over him.

He trembles with the thought, unable to stop his mind from wandering. A million different scenarios play in his head, with Wei Ying telling him where to bite in each one. Lan Zhan shifts in his chair, on purpose this time, and feels the ropes around him like they’re Wei Ying’s own hands. They stretch along his skin, grazing just under the curve of his chest, like the rough drag of Wei Ying’s fingers. Maybe, if he keeps moving, he will have these marks for a few days. He thinks Wei Ying would like it, to leave a pretty pattern on his skin.

Desire spreads to Lan Zhan’s body, starting low in the pit of his stomach and taking everything in the way. The ac is blasting in the room, minimal temperature, and still, Lan Zhan feels the heat radiating through him.

He needs to calm down.

They’ve done this kind of public play before, when the office was empty, either before or after working hours. Lan Zhan loved the thrill, the possibility of being caught, loved that Wei Ying could ask him to do anything, anywhere, and he would do it. It was always more intense, too, than simple ropes – Wei Ying made him masturbate with the door wide open, made him take off his clothes and stand there to be watched, made Lan Zhan kneel on the ground and wait as he stood there, calm, powerful, and merciless.

So why is he so affected, this time?

“Afternoon, boss.”

Lan Zhan only startles inwardly. On the outside, he looks up to see Wei Ying leaning on the doorframe of his office, arms crossed, and a big smirk on his lips.

“I’m not your boss,” Lan Zhan says.

Wei Ying walks into the office slowly, like he’s taking a walk in the park. His work clothes got more disheveled as the day went on. Lan Zhan hates that he enjoys how reckless he is.

“But you got promoted,” Wei Ying makes a big gesture with his arms, showcasing Lan Zhan’s new private office. “So you’re above me.”

“We’re not even in the same department.”

Wei Ying leans over his desk and gives him an infuriating grin. “Would you like to get under me, then?”

Lan Zhan feels the heat climbing up his face so fast it actually makes him dizzy. He indulges Wei Ying with a small roll of his eyes, and looks back to his computer. Wei Ying giggles at him.

"Sorry, that was a bad joke, wasn't it?” he says. “I've been thinking about it since I left home."

"Clearly," Lan Zhan says, but Wei Ying only smiles brighter.

“So mean to me,” he fakes a pout. Lan Zhan thinks he knows exactly what the pout does to him. “... So that’s a no?”

It’s not a no at all. Still, Lan Zhan says, “We’re working.”

Wei Ying walks over to his side and pretends to be checking something on the computer with him.

“Are we?” he asks, one hand sliding right under Lan Zhan’s jacket. “Are you?”

Wei Ying finds a knot on the ropes right in the middle of his back, through his shirt, and pulls on it. Lan Zhan jumps, turning to glare at him, but the only thing he gets back is a look of fake concern.

“What is it?” Wei Ying blinks innocently. “I thought you were working. Are you okay, Lan Zhan?”

Wei Ying pronounces his name slowly, deliberately, almost as if he’s mocking it. Almost as if he’s saying, ‘this isn’t who you are right now. But I’ll humor you.’  

Lan Zhan turns back to his screen, where an empty email he has tried to start several times today is still glaring accusatively at him.

“I’m fine,” he says.

“Hmm,” Wei Ying looks up to see if there’s anyone watching, then turns back. “Then could you pick that up?”

Lan Zhan frowns. “There’s nothing on the-”

Wei Ying swipes his hand on the desk and knocks down one of Lan Zhan’s pens.

“You’re just so much closer to it,” Wei Ying says. “Can you grab it for me?”

Lan Zhan licks his dry lips. He could, right now, decide not to do it. Decide to disobey, and claim later that it wasn’t a direct order. But Wei Ying stares at him like he knows exactly what’s going through his mind, and at the bottom of every desire to test his limits, there is the need to do things exactly as Wei Ying wants him to, just to see the pleased look in his eyes.

He bends down slowly, forehead wrinkling with the effort of stretching the ropes so far.

Just when his fingers are inches away from the pen, Wei Ying kicks it to the other end of the room.

“... Sorry,” he says, like he’s not sorry at all. “You’re gonna have to get up, Lan Zhan.”

This one is clearly an order, and it goes straight to Lan Zhan’s guts, burning on the way down. He glares again, just because he can, and Wei Ying only laughs.

“Shameless,” Lan Zhan murmurs, then walks to where the pen is and bends down. It’s difficult, and he needs to go slow, folding at the waist and taking short breaths.

Wei Ying sits on the corner of his desk, arms crossed, and doesn’t take his eyes away from him.

When he comes back up, Wei Ying extends a hand, never breaking eye contact. Lan Zhan walks towards him and places the pen carefully on his open palm.

“Good boy.” Wei Ying licks his lips, and Lan Zhan feels a surge of electricity running through his body. “Is anyone watching?”

Lan Zhan glances outside his office. There’s no one in sight.

“No.”

Wei Ying hooks his fingers on Lan Zhan’s belt and pulls him sharply in his direction. Lan Zhan stumbles forward and comes to stand between his open legs.

“As soon as this floor clears, you’re mine,” Wei Ying whispers, letting his fingers trail briefly across the front of Lan Zhan’s pants. Not enough to give him any stimulation, but just enough to be a reminder. “Understood?”

“Yes, Gege,” Lan Zhan says.

“Good,” he smiles. “Now sit back down.”

Lan Zhan breathes in slowly, trying to get his body to stop reacting so much. One single order from Wei Ying, one small touch, and he already feels weaker in the knees. He pulls his chair back and sits down, grateful that their shifts are almost over.

“It won’t be anything too extreme, okay?” Wei Ying says. “I don’t have any other props with me.”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan agrees. “We shouldn’t stay too long after hours.”

“Ay, Lan Zhan, always so proper,” Wei Ying teases, leaning into him. “Whoever listened to you now would never guess I was about to shove–”

“There you are!” a voice comes from the door. Wei Ying’s eyes flash a second of dark, angry red at the interruption, but he quickly controls his expression before looking back. “I was wondering where you went! Are you telling Lan Zhan the news?”

Wei Ying’s boss stands in the doorway, a warm smile on her face. Lan Zhan almost has it in him to feel embarrassed about what they were doing.

Almost.

“I was, actually!” Wei Ying reacts instantly, turning to him with a face that says ‘play along with it’. “He’s happy for me.”

“As he should be!” she says, nodding at him. “I’m glad they came to me to get referrals for a good lecturer. Wei Ying is the best person for the job.”

“Yes, he is,” Lan Zhan agrees. “I’m sure the students will love him.”

“Me too! Listen, I separated the files you asked me,” she turns to Wei Ying again. “Come on, I’ll give them to you right now and you can look at them over the weekend.”

Wei Ying’s eyes go wide. “You really got them? Everything I asked for?”

“Of course,” she says. “You know me.”

“That’s amazing,” he says. “I’ll be up in a second.”

“Don’t take too long. It’s Friday!”

He nods, and she leaves. Wei Ying follows her with his eyes until he’s sure she’s far enough away, then comes back to Lan Zhan’s side.

“Sorry. You can wait for me, right?” he says. “I really need those files.”

“Of course,” Lan Zhan says. “It’s work.”

Wei Ying takes his chin in hand and tilts his face up, searching for something. Lan Zhan holds his gaze, hoping to show him what he wants to see.

Smiling, Wei Ying tightens his grip, squeezing Lan Zhan’s cheeks.

“Clear out some space on your desk, then close this door and wait for me. Standing up,” he says, just low enough for Lan Zhan to hear. “If anyone walks in, say you’re getting ready to go home. Got it?”

Lan Zhan closes his eyes. “Got it.”

“Good,” Wei Ying lets go of his chin. “See you soon.”

“See you soon,” he echoes, and watches Wei Ying walking away with fire running inside his veins.

-

Lan Zhan gets ready for him.

He isn’t used to it yet, the idea of Wei Ying giving him orders, telling him to wait for him and promising he will come back. He isn’t used to Wei Ying wanting him, and telling him exactly how he wants him, so that Lan Zhan can prepare himself just how he likes it.

He clears half of his desk, leaving it empty, trying not to imagine what Wei Ying wants to use it for. Then, he lets down his hair, knowing Wei Ying likes him to have it loose so he can curl his hand inside it. He knows Lan Zhan likes it, and Lan Zhan gets chills just thinking about Wei Ying pulling on it, about how good it always feels. It was one of the easiest things to ask, when he filled in his kink list. Hair pulling, as often as possible, he said, and Wei Ying just smiled at him. It’s a blessing they were having the conversation through video. He would’ve begged Wei Ying for it right there, if they were close enough to touch.

Lan Zhan blinks away the thought, already feeling the anticipation rising inside him. He takes off his shoes and socks, just to make things easier, and stands behind his desk so that if anyone walks in, they can’t see it.

And then he waits.

He doesn’t know how much time passes. Long enough for the room outside to fill with chatter from the people who are going home. Long enough for the chatter to die, and for the ding of the elevator to stop coming in sporadic minutes. Long enough for the automatic lights to turn off outside, and only the light in his own office remain. And even longer after that, for Lan Zhan to be sure the entire building must be empty, since there is no noise at all.

Lan Zhan closes his eyes, focusing on his breathing. Standing like this, just like he was when the ropes were first put on him, they feel more like a tight hug. A comfortable, steady pull, keeping him grounded in his body. As he breathes deeper, his muscles start to relax one by one.

The doorknob turns, and Lan Zhan opens his eyes. Wei Ying comes in slowly, silently, looking at him through his long eyelashes.

Lan Zhan can hear his heartbeat pulsing in his ears. Wei Ying closes the door behind him and locks it with a click, quietly, his eyes focused on Lan Zhan’s. There’s a fire in his gaze, and something – something more dangerous. Something that turns into butterflies in Lan Zhan’s stomach, and makes his hands start to sweat. Something that starts the heat in his body, simmering quietly, just from a single look.

“Hi, bunny,” he says. Lan Zhan breathes in as slowly as he can manage.

“Gege,” he answers.

Wei Ying comes closer like a predator, a slow movement of his feet. He circles Lan Zhan’s body, looking at him up and down, and stops right by his side.

“Hmm,” Wei Ying glances pointedly at his bare feet. “Couldn’t wait for me to start, could you?”

Lan Zhan swallows dry. Does this qualify as a mistake? Is Wei Ying going to punish him for it?

Wei Ying puts his bag on Lan Zhan’s desk and throws himself on his chair, sitting cross-legged.

“You’re lucky I have a plan today,” Wei Ying whispers, and curls his fingers in Lan Zhan’s direction. Come here, the gesture says, and Lan Zhan goes, as if there is a string tied to his core, pulling him. “Clothes off.”

Lan Zhan manages not to rip his clothes off in two fast movements. He raises his fingers to his tie, trying to take it off calmly, orderly, like he has any patience at all. Wei Ying likes it when he takes it slow. Lan Zhan can see it in his eyes.

He thinks he’s starting to recognize some of Wei Ying’s most secret expressions. If he’s lucky… If he does this right. Maybe he can get to know even more.

Lan Zhan focuses on him as he unbuttons his shirt, wanting to make sure this is good enough. Slow enough. He opens it, letting it fall down his shoulders, watching. Wei Ying looks down at his tied-up chest, eyes dark.

“I can see your marks from here, gorgeous,” Wei Ying says. Lan Zhan looks down at his own chest, and sure enough, the little bit of skin he can see around the ropes is red. “Couldn’t stop squirming, could you?”

Lan Zhan’s ears burn with the comment, because it’s true. He hasn’t ever spent this long feeling like he was being stimulated, touched, hugged, teased, and knowing he couldn’t allow himself to even get hard. Knowing Wei Ying was right there, watching him, knowing it. Of course he squirmed, and moved, and tried to get as much out of it as he could.

He lets his shirt fall to the floor, not caring about how dirty it might get now that the shift is over, and wonders if the thing Wei Ying has planned for him will feel as good as he has made it up in his head.

It probably will. It always does.

Lan Zhan takes off his pants along with his underwear in one movement, challenging Wei Ying to say something about it. His cock bounces between his legs, half-hard just from having Wei Ying in the same room with him, alone.

Wei Ying takes a long, attentive look at him, but doesn’t say anything. He only taps his fingers lightly against his own thigh and twists his lips, almost like he’s bored. Lan Zhan can’t believe how attracted he is to him, especially in this. How well they fit, how good he always feels when they’re together.

“Kneel,” Wei Ying says, and oh, just his voice is enough to get Lan Zhan hard within seconds. The commanding, sultry tone of it. The voice Lan Zhan so often fantasizes about.

Lan Zhan falls to his knees, every thought of brattiness gone from his mind. He wants to be good today, more than ever. He wants the look of indifference in Wei Ying’s eyes to turn into that quiet lust he’s seen before, that beautiful flutter of his eyes when he likes what Lan Zhan is doing too much. Sometimes, he wants to push against what Wei Ying is saying, wants to see what he can get out of him. But not right now.

Right now, he needs it just like this.

“I think you’re gonna be easy today, bunny,” Wei Ying says.

Lan Zhan averts his gaze, embarrassed to be so easily read.

Wei Ying uncrosses his leg and presses his shoe under Lan Zhan’s chin, lifting it up until their gazes are locked.

“Don’t look away,” he orders, smiling at him. The action is dirty, humiliating. Lan Zhan’s cock twitches between his legs. “Have you been good today?”

“Yes,” he says, trapped by his gaze. Wei Ying raises his foot even more, forcing his head to tilt further up.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Gege,” he says, voice strained. Wei Ying’s shoe presses into his throat, makes him grit his teeth together. “I’ve been good.”

Wei Ying shoots him a wicked smile.

“I’ll be nice, then,” he lowers his foot, a hint of mischief behind his voice. “What do you want for your reward?”

Lan Zhan frowns. What does he want? Is this a trick?

Wei Ying leans forward and takes his chin in hand. “What do you want, bunny? Ask me anything.”

Lan Zhan swallows, a thousand scenarios running through his mind at once. He wants Wei Ying to tug on the ropes on his body until he’s red and writhing, wants him to fuck him against this dusty floor. He wants Wei Ying to make him come right now, and then again and again, until they’ve spent the entire night inside this office without noticing. He wants Wei Ying to kiss him, soft, and then messy, and never leave again. He wants a hundred million things, and all of them are selfish.

“I want to make you come,” he says, gaze tipping down to Wei Ying’s pants, then quickly returning. Wei Ying’s grip tightens briefly on his chin, his eyes glinting.

He gets up, lifting Lan Zhan’s face with him.

“You wanna suck me, bunny?” Wei Ying asks, his crotch right in line with Lan Zhan’s face. Lan Zhan stares at the bulge in his pants, knowing exactly what’s waiting for him underneath it, and licks his lips involuntarily. “You can have anything, and this is what you’re asking for?”

Lan Zhan meets his gaze, almost defiant. Making Wei Ying come is everything he ever wants. He loves everything Wei Ying does to him, every time. But nothing can quite compare to the rush of making Wei Ying feel good, and knowing he’s the one doing it. Knowing he is the one who got him there, and made him come.

“Yes,” he says. Wei Ying looks down at him, his head slightly tilted. “Please, Gege,” he adds, trying not to sound too desperate. Trying not to want it too much.

“Okay,” Wei Ying says, his fingers lightly caressing the side of Lan Zhan’s face. It’s a tender touch, out of place, and Lan Zhan loves him fiercely for it. “Go ahead.”

Lan Zhan moves so fast it makes Wei Ying stumble, makes him giggle under his breath. He reaches for Wei Ying’s pants and pulls him closer, feeling his heart sing with satisfaction when Wei Ying lets himself be pulled. Lan Zhan wants this so much, wants him so much, all the time. He undoes Wei Ying’s belt, then his zipper, and completely forgets he should be careful.

“Easy, bunny,” Wei Ying tells him, and Lan Zhan forces himself to slow down. He’s doing this all wrong. If he does it wrong, he might not get it at all.

He looks up, and has to suppress a shiver from the intensity of Wei Ying’s gaze.

Lan Zhan focuses on not rushing it. Carefully, he tries pulling the pants down, but they’re too tight, and Wei Ying’s ass is huge – beautiful, round, delicious, and huge. The pants get caught around it, and Wei Ying laughs again, not moving a muscle to help him. Lan Zhan wiggles it, and manages to get a little more of him exposed, the black underwear on display right in front of his face.

There’s a wet spot of precome showing through. Lan Zhan presses his face against it, inhaling him, wishing he could make this last for hours. He mouths at his cock through the fabric, tilting his head to bite softly at it, and hears as Wei Ying’s breath stutters above him.

Lan Zhan gives up on tugging his pants down and focuses on what he already has in front of him. It’s just enough space, just enough room, and he can’t wait any longer. The head of Wei Ying’s cock pokes through the hem of his underwear, half hard. Without any subtlety, Lan Zhan tugs the elastic down and frees Wei Ying’s cock from the fabric.

“Slow down,” Wei Ying warns, lifting his own shirt to give Lan Zhan access. Lan Zhan swallows down the saliva pooling in his mouth, and leans forward with all the control he can manage.

He licks a stripe across the shaft, slowly, going all the way up to the head. Above him, Wei Ying lets out a sweet little sigh, and Lan Zhan relishes in it, repeating the movement. Wei Ying’s cock hardens impossibly fast in his hand, and Lan Zhan strokes it a few times, watching it grow.

A small drop of precome forms on the tip, clear and inviting. Lan Zhan presses his tongue down on it, slides it over the slit, stopping to lick the taste of him into his mouth.

Wei Ying slides a hand inside his hair, sending sparks all the way down his spine. His touch is light, gentle, and it feels almost like a trap. Almost like it’s too good to be true. Lan Zhan swirls his tongue over and around his cock, getting it wet for the slide, and Wei Ying lets out a tiny moan above him. Good, Lan Zhan thinks, and More.

He presses a tiny, wet kiss to the head of Wei Ying’s cock, and then bites at the smooth flesh on the tip, dragging his teeth on it. Slow, slow. Wei Ying gasps, but doesn’t tell him no. Lan Zhan thinks he’s not the only one who enjoys biting. Wei Ying never seems to complain.

Lan Zhan pulls back slightly, taking a deep breath in. He wants to take Wei Ying entirely, right away. He wants to swallow around him, feel him filling his mouth and his throat all at once.

He opens his lips, tongue darting out, and leans forward to take it all.

Wei Ying tightens his fingers in his hair and yanks his head back with a fierce tug.

Lan Zhan hisses, squeezing his eyes shut at the sting. Wei Ying’s smile turns into something wicked above him.

“Actually,” he says, and Lan Zhan’s heart drops at his tone. “I don’t think you’ve been good at all.”

Lan Zhan swallows, trying to make sense of what he’s saying. “What?”

“I don’t think you’ve been good, bunny.” Wei Ying pulls his hair again, forcing him to tilt his head back. “I think you’re a liar.”

“I didn’t-” he tries, but another tug on his hair makes him lose his balance, almost falling back.

He reaches out to grab Wei Ying’s arms, trying to stay upright, and gets his hands slapped away. Wei Ying holds his head back, and Lan Zhan trembles with the effort of not crumbling to the floor.

Wei Ying clicks his tongue, looking down at him with absolute disdain. It makes Lan Zhan feel desperate, anxious to make it right. He’s about to protest again, saying he doesn’t know what he means, when Wei Ying slides a hand to the rope around his neck and pulls.

“Ah–” Lan Zhan winces as he’s yanked up to his feet, as the ropes dig into the sensitive skin of his crotch. Wei Ying drags him to the desk and shoves him down, the impact making everything on top of itrattle.

“Bend over and spread your legs,” Wei Ying orders, keeping a firm hold of him. Lan Zhan puts his hands on the desk, glancing at the office door, suddenly incredibly aware of how exposed he is.

Wei Ying kicks his foot to the side, spreading his legs open so far Lan Zhan falls to his elbows.

“Down,” Wei Ying says. Lan Zhan bends down, holding back the small sound he wants to make. What if he sees a shadow, just under the door? What if someone hears them?

Wei Ying grabs the back of his neck and shoves him down on the desk. Lan Zhan’s chest hits it with full force, the air escaping his lungs fast enough to make him dizzy. Wei Ying leans his body on top of him, pressing his lips to Lan Zhan’s ears, and his hair falls in front of Lan Zhan’s eyes, obscuring his vision.

“I said down,” Wei Ying’s hot breath sends shivers down Lan Zhan’s spine. He licks Lan Zhan’s neck, tasting the sweat of it, holding his head in place. “Focus on me, bunny.”

Lan Zhan closes his eyes to the feeling of Wei Ying on top of him, surrounding the air he breathes with his scent. He can feel his hard cock pressing against his ass, back inside the underwear, and can’t help but try moving back into it.

Wei Ying tightens his grip on his neck and bites the shell of his ear, holding his hip down.

“Do you know what you did wrong?” he whispers, but how can Lan Zhan focus on answering when he’s so close? “What were my rules today?”

“Hair untied,” Lan Zhan curls his hand on the desk, unsure if he’s allowed to touch, and bares his neck further for Wei Ying’s lips. “Calling you Gege. Answering you verbally. Asking permission before coming–”

Wei Ying’s teeth hook around the sensitive flesh on his neck, and tighten, tighten, until Lan Zhan whimpers and tries squirming away. Wei Ying digs his teeth into his neck and keeps them there, keeps a hold of him, stopping him from moving.

“Ah, ah,” Lan Zhan squeezes his eyes shut at the pain, at the overwhelming pleasure of being pinned down and held like some kind of prey. He closes his eyes to the rush of adrenaline it gives him, and tries his best to stay still. “Gege. Gege–”

Wei Ying releases his neck, and the hot burst of relief Lan Zhan gets makes his vision blurry. He can feel his heartbeat on each mark of Wei Ying’s teeth, pulsing along with the blood in his veins, and all he can think about is how much he wishes Wei Ying could bite his entire body like that.

“Are you going to keep acting innocent?” Wei Ying licks over the bite, and it stings, but Lan Zhan loves it, wants as much of it as he can get. “What was the most important order I gave you today?”

Lan Zhan can barely remember what he’s talking about, but that’s probably exactly what Wei Ying wants. He knows Wei Ying likes playing with his mind, making him confused, and he falls for it every time. He can’t help it. Whenever Wei Ying touches him, he forgets what he’s supposed to say.

“I’m gonna give you a hint,” Wei Ying’s hand travels on the side of his body, squeezing all the way down. He gets to the ropes in between Lan Zhan’s cheeks and hooks his fingers under them, tugging slightly. “What was your meeting about?”

He tightens his hold on the ropes, making them drag slowly around Lan Zhan’s cock. It twitches in between his legs, hard and untouched, brushing against the cold wood of the desk.

“I– don’t know,” Lan Zhan says, because he doesn’t know, and doesn’t care. Wei Ying laughs, low and raspy in his ear, and moves the ropes aside to graze a finger right along his rim. “Wei–”

“Then what did you do after the meeting?” Wei Ying asks. “Did you get any work done?”

Lan Zhan breathes in hard, unable to make sense of his words. He can feel Wei Ying’s thumb brushing on the tight muscle of his hole, massaging around it. He pushes it in, dry and without warning, and Lan Zhan lets his forehead fall on the desk with a low groan.

“Answer me, gorgeous,” comes the low, seductive whisper in his ear. Lan Zhan turns his head to it, trying to see him, to catch him in a kiss, but the hand inside his hair keeps him down. “Did you do anything at all today?”

Lan Zhan can’t remember. Wei Ying’s thumb drags in and out of him, rubbing along his walls, the stretch so incredibly not enough that it feels almost like mockery. He can take so much more than this. He wants to tell Wei Ying that, but he was asked a question, and he needs to answer it.

“I didn’t,” Lan Zhan says, and it’s true. He didn’t manage to get a single thing done. “I didn’t, Gege.”

Wei Ying takes his finger out of him, and Lan Zhan whines at the loss, an embarrassing sound he fails trying to keep inside. He hears the sound of Wei Ying spitting, and then there are two fingers brushing against his rim, wet, and dipping just inside.

“Fuck,” Lan Zhan mutters to himself, his cock dripping a long line of precome on the floor. Wei Ying yanks his hair back, lifting his face off the desk.

“I told you to work hard, and you disobeyed me,” Wei Ying says, shoving his fingers deeper into him. Lan Zhan lets out a low moan, trying to move back into them, trying to get them to brush against the right place, but Wei Ying doesn’t let him. “I was watching you, bunny.” Wei Ying’s voice sounds breathier now, rougher, and Lan Zhan feels his cock brushing against his ass, so much harder than before.“You looked so distracted.”

Lan Zhan grits his teeth together, still not daring to move his arms. Wei Ying’s weight on him is overpowering, and he doesn’t feel like he can move or escape at all. All he can do is rock his hips back, trying desperately to get more friction, trying to get them just where he needs them to be.

“Tell me,” Wei Ying slides his fingers in and out, keeping them just far enough from his prostate to drive Lan Zhan mad. “What were you thinking about?”

He thrusts his fingers deep, once, grazing on the bundle of nerves that makes Lan Zhan’s entire body spasm.

“Ah– this,” Lan Zhan closes his eyes, waiting for him to do it again, but Wei Ying goes back to his heartless teasing, rubbing his fingers just around it. “I was– thinking about this. You.”

Wei Ying kisses along his shoulder, sucking tiny marks on his skin, and makes his way up to his neck.

“Me?” Wei Ying’s breath hits the sensitive part of Lan Zhan’s ear, making his body tremble. “Or my cock?”

Lan Zhan nods, blushing at the words, at how much he loves that Wei Ying can make him feel so mortified and so hot at the same time.

“Say it, then,” Wei Ying demands, rubbing so close to his prostate Lan Zhan feels like one more brush against it will make him come. “Say you were a bad bunny because you were hungry for my cock.”

Lan Zhan opens his eyes, but he can’t see a thing in front of him. His vision is hazy, too bright, and for a blissful second he thinks he forgets where he is. The only thing in the world is Wei Ying’s voice, his smell, the way he makes Lan Zhan’s entire body beg for him.

Suddenly, Wei Ying slips out his fingers, and Lan Zhan fights the urge to cry out, biting hard on his own lips. He hears the rustling of fabric behind him, and his pulse quickens inside his veins.

“Come on, bunny,” Wei Ying comes closer again, and Lan Zhan feels the blunt head of his cock press against his hole, spreading precome on him. “I know you can talk pretty when you want to.”

Wei Ying’s cock twitches against him, and Lan Zhan’s eyelids flutter shut again. He wants it so bad he could come from the thought of it. He doesn’t care that it’s too dry, doesn’t care that it’ll burn. He only cares about Wei Ying fucking him, right here, and making him forget about everything that isn’t the place where the two of them join.

“I was bad, because…” he breathes out, swallowing down his shame. Wei Ying kisses his shoulder, and waits patiently. “Because I wanted. Your cock.”

His face blushes to the root of his hair. Wei Ying lets his cock catch against his entrance, stretching him just a little, but still doesn’t move.

“Wanted it?” Wei Ying asks, his voice so low it sends shivers down Lan Zhan’s spine. Lan Zhan hates his teasing with a passion. Hates how good it makes him feel, how hot, how out of control.

“Was hungry for it,” he blurts out. He sounds breathless, desperate, and by the way Wei Ying freezes, Lan Zhan thinks he likes it. “I couldn’t think about anything but your cock-”

Wei Ying grabs the ropes on his back and pulls him up, until Lan Zhan’s chest is half-lifted off the desk, his back arched in a deep curve.

“Again,” he orders, his lips brushing on the shell of Lan Zhan’s ear.

“I was hungry,” Lan Zhan says, knowing he must be red all over from the embarrassment. Wei Ying always makes him talk, and he has no idea why it makes him feel so good. “I want your cock, please…”  

“You’re a slut,” Wei Ying whispers, and every hair on Lan Zhan’s body rises at a single word. “But guess what?”

Lan Zhan can barely breathe. He pushes back against Wei Ying’s cock, wanting him to fuck him, to call him that again, to do anything to claim him and settle the fire in his guts.

“What?” he manages, and Wei Ying’s voice sounds chilling when he answers, right against his ear.

“You’re not getting it.”

Lan Zhan’s blood freezes.

“Ge–”

Wei Ying slams him down on the desk again and shoves his cock in between his thighs.

No, no, no–

“You think you can disobey me, bunny?” Wei Ying forces Lan Zhan’s legs closed, pressing his thighs together, and rolls his hips until they’re flush against Lan Zhan’s ass. “You think you can do whatever you want and, ah– still get my cock inside you?”

Lan Zhan pushes back on the desk, trying to get up, trying to move, but Wei Ying holds him down by the neck. He pulls out from Lan Zhan’s thighs, then thrusts back in, and his precome mixed with Lan Zhan’s sweat make the slide easy.

“Stay still,” Wei Ying mutters, leaning down to press hard bites all over his back. “Fuck, you’re–”

Lan Zhan reaches back with his hands, trying to grab any part of Wei Ying that he can, trying to ground himself. Wei Ying takes his arms and bends them at the elbows, pressing them down on his back.

“Gege,” Lan Zhan allows himself to cry out, to be vulnerable, to make the sounds he wants to. “Gege, please, I–”

“You don’t get to touch me,” Wei Ying says, sounding breathless as he grinds against him. His cock leaks between Lan Zhan’s legs, so hard, so hot, and the mere suggestion of the movement makes Lan Zhan’s pleasure grow. “You don’t deserve it.”

“I’m sorry,” Lan Zhan whines, struggling against the hold, trying to yank his arms free. “Fuck me, I’m–”

“I am fucking you,” Wei Ying says, then slams his cock inside his thighs with a force that makes the desk creek underneath them. “This is all you get.”

Lan Zhan feels like he could cry at how good it would be, if Wei Ying was shoving his cock inside him, fucking him properly. He wants it so bad he can taste it, how it would stretch him open at first, burning, and then feel so good as he got used to it.

It’s amazing, it’s cruel, what Wei Ying always manages to do to him. Lan Zhan knows, in the back of his mind, that he’s stronger, he knows he could get out of Wei Ying’s hold. But right now, as Wei Ying digs his nails into his wrists and keeps him down, he doesn’t feel strong at all. He feels subdued, taken, and even when he tries his hardest, his muscles aren’t strong enough. He feels helpless when Wei Ying has him, malleable. He wants to drown in this feeling forever. To be Wei Ying’s forever, if only Wei Ying would have him.

“How does it feel, gorgeous?” Wei Ying says, letting his cock drag under Lan Zhan’s balls, teasing him with what he can’t have. “When I fuck you like this, does it feel good?”

Lan Zhan turns his face down, pressing his forehead on the table. No, he wants to say, but it’s a lie. Deep inside, this is exactly what he wants, and Wei Ying knows it. To feel used, like a thing that Wei Ying takes his pleasure from, however he wants. To feel like he’s owned, and that no matter what Wei Ying does, he will love it, and ask for more.

“Feels good,” he mutters, wanting to give Wei Ying exactly what he’s asking for. “So good, Gege.”

“You’re mine,” Wei Ying’s low voice cuts through every wall of resistance Lan Zhan is still holding up and hits the part of his mind with no inhibitions left. “And I can fuck any part of you I want. Isn’t that right, bunny?”

“Yes,” Lan Zhan pushes back against Wei Ying’s body, meeting his thrusts. “Any– any part-”

“Fuck, ah-” Wei Ying leans his forehead on Lan Zhan’s shoulders, picking up his pace. He lets Lan Zhan grind back, breathing hard on his ear, his fingers digging so hard on Lan Zhan’s skin they are sure to bruise. “Yeah, keep doing that, and if you’re good, I’ll let you come.”

Lan Zhan moves his hips in tandem to Wei Ying’s own, his legs burning with the effort of keeping the same pace. The angle is awkward, and Wei Ying’s hold of him has no give, but Lan Zhan lets his body move however it can. He crosses his legs, wanting to make it tighter, so tight for him, and hears Wei Ying moaning with his lips glued to his back.

“Ah, ah,” Wei Ying bites down on him, his movements becoming erratic, and Lan Zhan feels his hot release in between his thighs. Wei Ying lets out a breathtaking sound from deep within his throat, and he quiets down just so that he can hear it. Wei Ying has the most beautiful moaning Lan Zhan has ever heard. He wants to record it, and keep it as his own.

Wei Ying keeps rolling his hips, slowly, dragging out his orgasm as long as he can. Lan Zhan feels his breath on his back, hot and damp, and has to keep himself from shaking when Wei Ying licks a long stripe up his sweaty skin.

“Please,” Lan Zhan begs, his forgotten cock dripping on the floor. “Please.”

Wei Ying takes in a deep breath, shuddering slightly at the end of it. Lan Zhan loves how he shakes when he comes, loves how beautiful he looks. He wishes he could see it. He doesn’t dare ask to turn around.

“Okay,” Wei Ying pulls him up again, gently this time, and it makes something in Lan Zhan’s chest tighten. “Okay, bunny.”

He turns Lan Zhan around, and Lan Zhan’s heart almost jumps out of his throat, finally able to see him like he always, always wants to. Their eyes meet, and Lan Zhan can’t hide the desire in his own gaze, much less the love in it. He steps forward, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around Wei Ying’s body, to lean in and kiss him until he can’t breathe.

He doesn’t. He can’t, not without permission. He stops just short of Wei Ying’s lips, using all the strength he still has left to hold back. Wei Ying stares at him, eyes open and searching, like he can see right into Lan Zhan’s soul.

He knows, Lan Zhan thinks, not for the first time. But Wei Ying doesn’t say anything. He lifts a hand to Lan Zhan’s mouth, rubbing a finger on his bottom lip, and walks him back until he hits the desk again.

“Sit,” Wei Ying tells him, and Lan Zhan hoists his body up the desk to sit on it. It’s only then he realizes that Wei Ying is naked from the waist down, and his shirt is open, revealing his entire chest. Lan Zhan drowns in the view of his body, miles and miles of sun-kissed skin, lean muscles, and pretty brown nipples.

Wei Ying slides his hands in between Lan Zhan’s thighs and spreads them open, not caring about how his fingers get dirty with the drying come in between them. He comes forward, settling in between his legs, his eyes focused on Lan Zhan’s swollen, leaking cock.

Lan Zhan grabs him by the waist and squeezes his soft skin, wanting to dig the marks of his fingers into it just as much as Wei Ying does to him. Wei Ying looks up, dark eyes and heavy breathing, and Lan Zhan has to rake his gaze away from his face so he can keep some of his sanity. So he can keep the words of devotion threatening to spill from his mouth sealed behind his lips.

Wei Ying wraps a hand around his cock, and oh, oh, Lan Zhan hadn’t realized how on edge he was, how hard. He collapses into the touch, nearly gasping, grabbing Wei Ying’s hips to steady himself. Wei Ying strokes him with purpose, and it almost hurts, the way he can feel his pleasure building so fast it makes him dizzy, the way Wei Ying’s hand feels icy on his feverish skin.

“Fuck, ah…” Lan Zhan swallows hard, breathing through his lips. “Gege. Please…”

“Please, what?” Wei Ying says, stroking him faster, squeezing his thigh with his other hand. Lan Zhan feels so sensitive there, so slippery, he can’t help but spread his legs further, inviting him to come closer.

Wei Ying rubs at the head of his cock, squeezing him hard and merciless, and Lan Zhan chokes on a moan, throwing his head back. Wei Ying watches him through it, so intense it almost makes Lan Zhan too embarrassed to ask.

“Ah, I–” he digs his nails into We Ying’s skin, trying to thrust his hips up into his hand. “Can I come? Gege...”

“Yeah, bunny,” Wei Ying whispers, stroking him harder as his pleasure only builds. “You were good, so good, you can come all over my hand. Come on, give it to me, I want to see–”

Lan Zhan’s body spasms as his orgasm hits him, white-hot and drawn out, blurring his vision. He thinks he moans, thinks he screams, but Wei Ying slides a hand behind his neck and pulls him into a kiss, muffling his sounds.

Lan Zhan whines into his lips, the last of his release hitting him just as Wei Ying curls their tongues together, amplifying each sensation in his body. He wraps his arms around Wei Ying’s waist, pulling him as close as he can get, and kisses him wet and messy, pouring every ounce of his lust into it.

Wei Ying doesn’t pull back, moving his hand all across his body, touching everywhere he can reach. Lan Zhan keeps kissing him, unrestrained and wild, until he can’t breathe anymore. Until Wei Ying lets go of his cock, spent and softening, and kisses his cheeks, his chin, his jaw, waiting for him to calm down.

He leans his head on Wei Ying’s neck, his head fuzzy with the glow he always feels after a scene with him. Lan Zhan can’t help but cling to him, laying his head on Wei Ying’s shoulder and nibbling against his neck, long after their kiss is done.

He has no idea how long they stay there. After a while, he feels Wei Ying reaching out for the bag he left on the desk.

“I’m gonna clean you up, okay?” he whispers. Lan Zhan doesn’t open his eyes, preferring to stay in this warm bubble Wei Ying seems to have around him.

Wei Ying wipes him with wet tissues that smell softly of lavender, and then with dry ones. He cleans the come from in between Lan Zhan’s legs, his cock, his chest, until Lan Zhan feels the world taking shape around him once more. He slides a hand inside Wei Ying’s hair, slowly, and presses soft kisses all the way down his shoulder.

There’s a soft giggle from above him when Lan Zhan hits a particularly sensitive spot, followed by a small shudder. For all that Wei Ying does to him, teases him about doing, he has a very sensitive body of his own. Lan Zhan would love to explore it, someday. He would love it if Wei Ying made him kiss him all over, dictating exactly where to lick and to bite, until Lan Zhan’s mouth was tingly and numb from making him feel good. Until his lips were red and kissed raw, until his wrists hurt from squeezing every–

“Up?” Wei Ying asks, bringing Lan Zhan back to the present.

“No,” he says, his voice hoarse and cracking. Having to let go is his least favorite part. He will delay it for as long as he can.

“We kinda have to,” Wei Ying says, but there’s a hint of a smile on his voice. “Your skin is looking sensitive and I want to take these ropes out of you.”

“Take them off here,” he murmurs.

Wei Ying laughs, and his body shakes under Lan Zhan’s chin.

“So demanding!” he says, but starts untying the ropes anyway, with Lan Zhan still sitting on the desk. “I thought I was in charge. Clearly I was wrong.”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan says, and Wei Ying laughs again. Feeling the movement of his body, the way his laughter makes it vibrate, might be one of Lan Zhan’s favorite feelings. He wonders if it’s weird to want to lay his head down on Wei Ying’s chest and just listen to him laughing until it lulls him to sleep.

Wei Ying undoes as much as he can, and then taps his thighs. “Okay, now you really have to get up. I can’t take the rest off like this.”

Regrettably, Lan Zhan lifts his head from the space he built for himself in Wei Ying’s neck, squinting as the light hits his eyes again. Wei Ying takes a step back to give him space to get up, and almost falls when he stumbles on his own clothes, thrown on the floor. Lan Zhan has to grab his elbows to keep him steady, his own legs still wobbly from everything that happened.

Wei Ying leans into him, letting out an explosive, beautiful laugh, and Lan Zhan loves him, loves him, loves him. He repeats the words in his head, over and over, so that he doesn’t choke on them when he has to swallow them down.

He settles for smiling back, allowing himself to huff out a small, breathy laugh in return. Together, they get dressed, tidy up the office again, and make their way to the parking lot.

Lan Zhan tells himself that it doesn’t mean anything when Wei Ying lets him hold his hand all the way there.

-

Wei Ying showers with him.

It’s quick, as far as showers go. Wei Ying makes sure he doesn’t get his hair wet, and helps him wash his body under the running lukewarm water. Lan Zhan wasn’t sure, when they walked into his apartment, if they would be showering separately or not. But one look at Wei Ying’s face made him want to beg not to be left alone for even a minute.

“Let’s shower?” Wei Ying asked before he could say anything, and Lan Zhan had never been more glad. He thinks Wei Ying might be getting too good at reading what his expressions mean, and giving it to him. He thinks he might be getting even more transparent than he thought he was.

Lan Zhan lays his head back on the shower wall, focusing on not getting hard when Wei Ying runs his hands on his body. He does it gently, paying special attention to the insides of his legs, and Lan Zhan has to close his eyes to fight his growing erection.

Trying to think of other things doesn’t work. After spending an entire day thinking about Wei Ying and Wei Ying only, unwiring his brain feels like swimming through cotton. By the time they’re done, Lan Zhan feels his cock throbbing with how aroused he is, and his ears heating with embarrassment.

He doesn’t look at Wei Ying as they dry their bodies, as Wei Ying gives him water, as he lies down on his bed, completely naked. Wei Ying asks to borrow shorts, and Lan Zhan points him in the general direction of the drawer, lying face down on the mattress so that he at least gets to hide his body’s reaction to what should be innocent and caring touches.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying talks low, in the tone he uses when he wants to be reassuring. Unfortunately, it sounds too similar to the lustful tone he has during scenes, and Lan Zhan feels himself reacting to it. “I’m…” he hesitates. “I’m gonna put some soothing lotion on you, okay?”

Lan Zhan nods, then pillows his head with his arms. After everything, Wei Ying is still not done touching him. He has no idea how he’ll be able to bear it.

“Okay,” Wei Ying says, more to himself than to him. “Can you… spread your legs for me?”

Lan Zhan swallows. Wei Ying probably doesn’t mean it to sound as suggestive as it does, but it has an effect on him all the same. He spreads his legs, bending one of them and folding it up by his side, exposing himself to the open air and to Wei Ying’s eyes.

There’s silence from above him, and for what feels like too long, Wei Ying doesn’t move. Doesn’t even speak. Then, Lan Zhan feels him kneeling in between his legs, and a careful, warm hand on his skin.

Wei Ying’s thumb rubs on his inner thigh, softly, and then harder, close to where it turns into the fleshy part of his ass. Lan Zhan wants to turn back, to look at his face, but he doesn’t know what his own expression will show. It’s safer to stay like this, and hide himself.

“Lan Zhan… You’re so…” Wei Ying starts, then cuts off his own words. Lan Zhan doesn’t dare move. “You’re… so red. In between your legs. The ropes really dug into you here.”

Oh. Lan Zhan lets out a careful breath, and hears the sound of a bottle cap opening.

The lotion is cold when it hits his skin, but he manages not to wince. Wei Ying rubs the product on him, as gently as he can, trying to get his skin to absorb it.

“You don’t have any actual rope burns,” he says as he kneads his fingers into him, making his way up slowly. “Just compression marks.”

Lan Zhan nods, trying his best to relax under the careful massage Wei Ying is giving him. His hands are strong, perfect, and the more he touches and squeezes him, the more on edge Lan Zhan feels.

Wei Ying grabs his folded leg and pulls it down, slowly, making him close them again. “Easier like this,” he says, then straddles Lan Zhan’s hips and sits right on top of his ass.

Lan Zhan buries his face in his pillow and bites it, trying not to pay attention to how good Wei Ying feels on top of him. He already got deprived of something he wanted today. It’s not fair to ask him to handle something this close to what was denied. His cock is still hard between his legs, and it worsens now, as he feels the movement of Wei Ying’s hips right where he wants it most.

Wei Ying pours more cold lotion on him, and this time, he flinches, his body too hot to handle it.

“Whoa,” Wei Ying whispers.

Lan Zhan inhales as slowly as he can, trying to control the crack in his voice before speaking.

“Is something wrong?”

“No. Nothing wrong,” Wei Ying says, spreading his fingers all across his back. “It’s just, you flexed, and I…. Could see it.” He clears his throat. “You’re really strong.”

Lan Zhan can’t find his voice to speak. Instead, he flexes his back again, and feels his muscles moving under Wei Ying’s hands.

“Yeah,” Wei Ying murmurs. “Yeah, like that.”

Lan Zham hums, shifting a bit underneath him. Something about Wei Ying’s tone seems… so different, to him. So inviting. Wei Ying slides his hands down on his body, hooking his thumbs on his lower back, and it doesn’t feel innocent at all. 

“You have dimples,” Wei Ying says, his voice low, digging his thumbs further into his back. “Right here.”

He presses down, pushing him into the mattress, and Lan Zhan’s cock drags on it, giving him a taste of the delicious friction he can’t help but crave for.

“Mnn,” Lan Zhan says, more a moan than an answer. Something in Wei Ying’s voice makes him feel daring. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” Wei Ying says. “I… like it a lot.”

He tightens his fingers around Lan Zhan’s waist, shifting his hips forward, just a little. It feels like he’s moving onto him, into him, and it makes a hot burst of desire crawl through Lan Zhan’s skin. Wei Ying lets out a tiny giggle, squeezing him hard.

“You know I like it, Lan Zhan,” he says, coming closer. Lan Zhan feels his hair brushing lightly on his back, and then his hot breath hitting his skin. “Why do you even have to ask?”

Lan Zhan digs his fingers into his pillow, his body warming up fast.

“Praise kink,” he says.

Wei Ying lays his forehead on his back to laugh, and the way he moves almost makes Lan Zhan go mad. He moves, too, slightly lifting his hips, and hears Wei Ying gasping above him.

“We should…” Wei Ying says, breathless, lifting slightly off of him. “We should finish the lotion. We still have… the whole front of your body.”

Lan Zhan waits until he feels like he can breathe again, and then turns his body around right under Wei Ying’s open legs.

He’s not ready for the sight of Wei Ying towering over him, wearing his shorts, and getting obviously hard in them. He’s not ready for the way Wei Ying’s eyes seem dark, and wanting for something Lan Zhan can definitely give him. He freezes under Wei Ying’s intense stare, curling his hands on the sheets, and feels his throat going dry.

Wei Ying sits down on his legs again, straddling him, so close to his cock Lan Zhan can feel his shorts brushing against it. His eyes travel down Lan Zhan’s body, taking their time.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, and it sounds too much like a question, like a plea. Wei Ying licks his lips, focusing on him again, and blinks several times before moving.

“... Lotion,” he says, eyes locked on his while he takes the bottle and pours a few drops of cold product on his skin. Lan Zhan flinches again, and Wei Ying’s gaze follows the contraction of his abs, the way his cock twitches.

Wei Ying leans over, closer to him, letting his belly brush on Lan Zhan’s cock. He spreads the lotion on his body, starting with his chest and slowly making his way down.

Lan Zhan lets out a low sound in the back of his throat, his hands coming up to Wei Ying’s thighs. He’s so turned on it hurts, and Wei Ying sitting on top of him sends a thousand different scenarios through his mind. He wants Wei Ying to touch him, needs Wei Ying to touch him, and he knows Wei Ying wants it, too. It’s in the way he lingers around Lan Zhan’s nipples, circling them one too many times. It’s in the way he rubs the lotion on the skin under Lan Zhan’s navel, dangerously close to his cock, and bites his lips as he watches a drop of precome sliding down on it.

“Wei Ying,” he calls again, and this time his voice sounds desperate, hoarse. He digs his fingers into Wei Ying’s thighs, inching them up. “Touch me.”

He tries not to say please. Wei Ying rocks his hips forward, giving the both of them just enough friction to be frustrating, and leans down with one hand on each side of Lan Zhan’s head.

“I…” Wei Ying says, then buries his face on his neck. “You don’t…”

Lan Zhan grabs his waist and grinds up, moaning when some of the tension in his body is finally relieved.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, and Lan Zhan grinds up again, feeling the pleasure building just by hearing his name on Wei Ying’s lips. “Fuck, I want–”

“Me too,” Lan Zhan kisses his neck, his shoulders, his ear. “Please, I–”

Wei Ying grabs his hips and pushes him down gently, making him whimper at the loss.

“We can’t,” Wei Ying whispers. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Lan Zhan asks, breathing hard against his ear. He slides a hand inside Wei Ying’s hair, turning his face to him. “Wei Ying…”

Wei Ying comes closer, eyes full of desire, and lets their lips brush together. Lan Zhan lifts his chin, wanting to catch him into a kiss, but Wei Ying pulls back.

“It’s not…” Wei Ying shakes his head. “You’re… You’re barely out of a scene, and I can’t–”

“What?” Lan Zhan frowns, still trying to pull Wei Ying’s hips down. He wants it, and Wei Ying wants it, so why–

“It’s not negotiated,” Wei Ying says.

Lan Zhan’s entire body goes cold.

“... Negotiated?”

Wei Ying pushes himself further up, and Lan Zhan lets go of him completely, letting his hands fall on the mattress.

“We didn’t discuss this,” Wei Ying says, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want… to do something we haven’t talked about.”

Lan Zhan feels like his blood has stopped running in his veins. Negotiated. Of course. Because everything they do, even the soft touches, even the cuddling, is a premade deal.

Wei Ying doesn’t want him outside of this. He has never given any indication that he does. In fact, he did the very opposite, all those years ago, when he realized Lan Zhan had feelings.

Lan Zhan sits up on the bed, and Wei Ying sits up in front of him, studying his face.

He closes his eyes. He can’t take Wei Ying’s worried looks right now, not when he’s feeling like this.

“Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying cups his jaw, and Lan Zhan lets him, because he doesn’t think he will ever be able to refuse a touch like that.

“Okay,” he says, hoping Wei Ying doesn’t notice the way his voice fails.

“I wanna talk about it,” Wei Ying says, brushing his thumb on his cheek. It’s unbearable. Lan Zhan drinks the touch in like he’s starved for it. “Just… not when you’re all soft, like this.”

Lan Zhan nods. Wei Ying takes his face between his hands and places a soft, hesitant kiss on his lips.

“Do you want to lie down a little?” Wei Ying asks. “What do you need?”

Lan Zhan doesn’t think he can take being in this bed with Wei Ying for much longer.

“Food,” he says, even though he isn’t that hungry. But it’ll be a distraction.

“Okay. Do you want some chocolate, or do you want to eat an actual meal?” he asks. Lan Zhan finally manages to open his eyes, and as soon as their gazes meet, Wei Ying smiles at him. “It’s close to dinner time. We could order some food and then cuddle on the couch?”

Opening his eyes was a terrible idea. Lan Zhan’s vision blurs with unshed tears, and he quickly looks down to hide them. Why does Wei Ying have to be so gentle, and so perfect, about everything?

“I’d like that,” he says.

“Great,” Wei Ying gets up, and offers him his hand. “I’m starving.”

Lan Zhan takes his hand, and lets himself be pulled up into his arms.

-

They order food, and they eat. Lan Zhan doesn’t talk much, but Wei Ying was never bothered by that. He still smiles, still hugs him, and still makes Lan Zhan’s heart race with every tiny gesture he makes. 

Wei Ying insists on feeding him, holding the food away from his grasp until Lan Zhan agrees to it. Then, he says it’s Lan Zhan’s turn, and keeps his mouth open until Lan Zhan reluctantly shoves a spoonful of rice inside. It’s ridiculous, and Lan Zhan loves him so much it physically hurts.

Eventually, he gets a sense of normalcy back. They cuddle, and Lan Zhan nuzzles into Wei Ying’s neck, feeling like his heart is lodged somewhere near his throat. There’s a big disconnection between what he wants Wei Ying to be for him, and what Wei Ying is willing to be. And Wei Ying is not the one who needs to change. Lan Zhan is the one who needs to adjust his expectations.

At some point close to 9 pm, Wei Ying sits up on the couch. He yawns, stretching his body like a cat, and Lan Zhan looks away from the pretty curve of his spine.

“I should… probably go?” Wei Ying says, hesitant, looking at the ground. “I mean, you must be tired. You probably don’t need me keeping you from your beauty sleep.”

Lan Zhan clenches his jaw. He knew this was coming, but he didn’t think it would bother him this much. They don't need to sleep together every time, he knows this. Today’s aftercare has lasted for way longer than any other Dom would ever care to stay, especially after a scene that wasn’t particularly extreme. Wei Ying always stays for longer than he actually needs to, because he is good, and he cares, and Lan Zhan has been taking advantage of that.

But after today’s talk, he can’t do it anymore.

“Okay,” he says. Wei Ying turns to look at him, biting his lower lip.

“Unless…” Wei Ying says. “Unless you need me to stay? I… I would love to stay, if… that’s the case.”

Lan Zhan feels his heart tightening in his chest. It’s all in the way he said it, isn’t it? Wei Ying isn’t asking him if he wants him here. He’s asking him if he needs it.

And the truth is, as much as he wants Wei Ying to sleep by his side, to hug him all night, to see the new pillow Lan Zhan bought specifically for him, he doesn’t need it. Not because of a scene, or because of aftercare, or because he might drop.

Not in any of the ways that have to do with their Dom/sub relationship. Because outside of BDSM, and outside of being friends, they aren’t anything.

And Lan Zhan will not make Wei Ying stay with him under those pretenses.

So he says, “No.” And he says, “You can go, if you wish to.”

Because that’s the truth. That is what they have negotiated.

Wei Ying looks taken aback. He stumbles while asking if Lan Zhan is sure, and Lan Zhan nods, even though he isn’t. But he makes himself say it anyway, because he won’t be the one who is crossing a line in this relationship.

“Okay, I… I guess I’m going, then,” Wei Ying says. “We’ll talk tomorrow?”

Lan Zhan nods. Wei Ying gets dressed, and makes his way to the door. As Lan Zhan sees him walking away, one hundred doubts going through his head, he remembers Wei Ying’s own words to him, just last week.

“... we work together, and we’re friends, so we have to keep things separate.”

Lan Zhan swallows down the part of him that wants to beg for Wei Ying to stay.

Wei Ying is his friend. And Wei Ying is his Dom.

He will find a way to be okay with it.