Archive of Our Own

In the car on the way to the Water Cube, where the Weibo Awards were taking place for the evening, Yibo’s phone dinged with an ominous message.

对不起 ( I’m sorry.)

If Xiao Zhan was apologizing even before the evening began, that meant he had a plan of action — and it wouldn’t be the kind of treatment Yibo was going to appreciate.

没事  爱你 (It’s fine. Love you.)

Zhan-ge was probably already at the red carpet and likely wouldn’t even see the response until the event was over. But if things really did go as horribly as the older man was obviously expecting, he would be feeling guilty about it. 

It was important to make clear that Yibo understood and wouldn’t take it personally.

One of the most common yet unspoken realities in the entertainment industry of China is that people who fall outside of the dictated heterosexual norm make some of the best actors. It’s not a surprise, really. When a person has been pretending to be someone else since their teen years — and sometimes their entire lives — they get pretty good at playing a part.

It’s a fact Wang Yibo knew well from experience.

He had learned how to put on a front himself at a very young age. Though his parents had quickly squashed any impulses and desires he might have had as a toddler to wear skirts and steal his mother’s high heels, they had managed to find a way to channel his boundless energy and “eccentricities” into a more suitable path.

His inability to sit still combined with freakishly prodigious body control and kinesthetic abilities led to an early enrollment in dance classes. After a few years of excelling at dance and simultaneously floundering in a regular school setting, his parents decided to invest in his strengths and send him to a fine arts school in South Korea. The dream was that he could become a famous idol star, like the ones the school was known for churning out. At the very least, they knew Yibo would fit in better in Seoul, a slightly more liberal and open-minded environment than where he’d grown up.

His father believed Yibo needed to toughen up after too many years of his wife’s coddling. Sending Yibo abroad on his own was his way of forcing the boy to stand — or dance, as the case may be — on his own two feet. Even better that he would be able to dress up, wear make-up and be dramatic in a functional (and societally acceptable) manner without bringing undue embarrassment to the family.

Yibo’s mother often called him a “little flower”, in part because he was such a beautiful child, but also because he was sometimes delicate and needed a lot of support to thrive. He had suffered many illnesses and mishaps when he was young, which only made his mother even more overprotective of her only child. She had been concerned when he’d gone away to boarding school but hoped it would ultimately lead to his success and happiness.

To his mother’s great joy, Yibo had indeed bloomed in Korea. The experience of being around others who were both talented and different made it easier to come out of his shell. He was never going to be the type of person to be friendly with strangers or quick to open up to new people, but Yibo felt free to speak his mind and put less effort into restricting his impulses, at least around those who weren’t his seniors. Since Yibo had never fully succeeded in developing a filter between his brain and his mouth, having the ability to be more open with people — even if it was only the small group of people he was close to — made his life a little less difficult.

Acting and drama classes provided an outlet for Yibo’s less socially acceptable comfort with the more feminine side of himself. At the time, he’d never really considered it a permanent part of his personality, but more of a whim he was struck by every so often. As a teen, Yibo at times struggled to contain himself completely within his assigned gender role, and once he’d been chosen as an idol trainee for an entertainment company and included in UNIQ, a newly formed vocal group, his managers had taken Yibo’s timid demeanor in public and willingness to be “girly” and ran with it.

Unfortunately, growing his hair a little longer and dying it blond turned out to be a real mind-fuck for Yibo. 

With his big eyes and pouty lips, he’d looked like an innocent, virginal girl — which was exactly what his handlers were going for. Every boy band seemed to have at least one member that bent the gender rules and drew in a wider audience, and as the youngest — and easily the prettiest — Yibo was thrust into that role.

He’d even enjoyed it — for a while. But looking like a woman, as a teenage boy still trying to figure out who he was, became a real challenge to developing his sense of self. Especially when he knew at some point he would have to go home to a country where being a boy who could be mistaken for a girl was a major problem and could literally get a person arrested. And then there was dealing with the vitriol from people who used it as an excuse to hate him, lashing out online and in person to attack him.

Not to mention the fact that all the attention from male fans made him extremely uncomfortable. Not because he didn’t like it — the problem lay in finding that he was much more comfortable receiving attention from guys than female fans. Which just led to a whole set of questions and issues about himself that he really would have rather avoided altogether.

Unfortunately, being the maknae in a group of young guys meant Yibo’s naivety didn’t stand a chance. And as the group’s music began to get worldwide recognition, growing up was unavoidable. He’d struggled with his identity, feeling like he was always a half beat “off” from the rest of his bandmates. It had been difficult learning to accept the things about himself he wanted to hide, like his attraction to other men, but at least he had a group of geges to provide support and help him find his way.

So with his band’s success had come the ability to embrace himself a little more. As he got older, he learned to have better control of his “flair”, as his mother called it, and channel it into his dancing. To appease his father, Yibo sought out more masculine hobbies, which also happened to be things he was good at and enjoyed given his talent for physicality. Basketball and any type of sport were always interesting. Yibo was extremely competitive by nature and wouldn’t rest until he had mastered any new activity he tried. Skiing, snowboarding, skateboarding — most things came relatively easy to him. 

Regular work and more money led to more expensive hobbies, and he quickly fell in love with the speed and sensation of a motorcycle beneath him. Having something so dangerous and powerful bending to his will provided a sense of control Yibo hadn’t even realized he craved.

Racing was freedom — from the fans, from the cameras, his parents, managers, and team. Just Yibo, the track and the wind around him, if only for a short span of time. It was nice to hide under a helmet once in a while, where the camera flashes weren’t so blinding. It allowed him to be seen and get the attention he desired but still somehow feel hidden, and Yibo found he enjoyed that element of racing quite a bit.

Unexpectedly, another new obsession dropped into his life in the summer of 2018. 

Xiao Zhan provided another kind of freedom, one that Yibo had never expected he would have. Friendship, support, love —  and complete understanding and acceptance. 

It was amazing to find a man like Xiao Zhan, especially given the fact that he’d had a much more strict upbringing than Yibo. While the Wangs had accepted Yibo’s differences and tried to put it to good use instead of forcing him into a mold, Xiao Zhan had been raised to be the dutiful son every Chinese parent expected.

He’d gone through school, striving to do his best and make his parents proud, even when he didn’t necessarily have the propensity for certain subjects. His Zhan-ge had met every expectation that his family had of him — going to college, getting a degree, getting a good job. He built a decent life for himself and the family he would eventually be expected to have.

Yet even with all of his accomplishments, Xiao Zhan wasn’t happy. Sure, he put on a good show for his friends and family, but he felt like he had more to offer the world. His dreams of a singing career — dashed by a family that refused to support such an unrealistic goal — were still haunting him. 

Like Yibo, he spent so much time hiding parts of himself that his desire to be seen and appreciated became overwhelming. He would never get the type of recognition he wanted working behind a desk for the rest of his life. The stage, one of the most treasured experiences of his school days, called to him. And with his family beginning to push for Xiao Zhan to settle down into a marriage and relationship he wasn’t sure he could live with, he’d been eager for an escape through any route that might delay what he feared was inevitable.

If there was one place a maybe-not-entirely straight man could blend in, it was among a group of other performers. Xiao Zhan had figured he would either find enough success to have a life he could be comfortable with or he would go back to doing the work he was good at and fulfill the expectations of his family. Either way, he decided the risk was worth it.

So he quit. He saved enough money to keep from starving to death (or so he hoped) while chasing his dreams and set out to do the unthinkable at his age — break into the entertainment industry. 

Yibo could hardly imagine how much courage, dedication and outright ambition that move had taken. But he knew Xiao Zhan well enough now that it didn’t surprise him. The man was one of the most driven he had ever met. Yibo considered himself to be an unstoppable force, but Xiao Zhan’s work ethic rivaled his own.

It was one of the many things that pulled them together.

Yibo had been amazed by the older man from the very beginning. He knew they’d met previously — he hadn’t been blind the year before when Xiao Zhan’s vocal group had paid a visit to TTXS. The man’s bright smile lit up the room, and though they had interacted very little, Yibo had taken notice of Xiao Zhan in a way he rarely did with other guests of the show.

When they’d been cast as leads — romantic leads, although the implication was rarely voiced by staff — in “Chen Qing LIng”, Yibo couldn’t believe his luck. Not only was he going to be portraying a character that was both ethereally beautiful and a total badass, but he’d been paired with the most handsome man he’d ever seen.

Outside of his own mirror, of course.

He’d been smitten by Xiao Zhan from their very first day. The way he threw himself completely into everything, whether it was learning the choreography for fight scenes or getting so into a scene at the table read that he ended up in tears. He was funny and open and incredible, and Yibo was head over heels before they even began filming the first take.

They spent so much time together over the long work days, it was inevitable the two of them would get to know each other well. Yibo hadn’t expected how easy the process would be, though. Never in his life had Yibo met anyone he was so immediately comfortable with. Not even Seung-youn, who had become his best friend during his teen years when they were building their vocal group. 

Something about Xiao Zhan just drew people in, and Yibo was the weakest to the pull. Whether on set or off, Yibo’s gaze was constantly drawn to Zhan-ge like a flower to the sun. If the older man was anywhere near him, it seemed his body responded to it like a magnetic gravitational force. Before long they were tuning out everyone else around them on set — chatting, laughing and playing as if they were the only people there.

It didn’t matter how much Yibo picked at him — Xiao Zhan put up with all of his playfulness and gave back just as often. Yibo couldn’t resist the constant urge to reach out and touch the older man, so he swung his hands out at every opportunity, just to make some kind of contact. The incessant desire to have a physical connection with someone was the strangest feeling, considering in general Yibo was not at all a touchy-feely person.

But with Xiao Zhan, it was different.

Not just handsome and fun, he was kind to everyone and wise from his years of life experience outside of films and entertaining — and Yibo had an irrational burning desire to crawl inside the man and learn every single thing there was to know about him.

But the most amazing thing of all about Xiao Zhan was how incredibly accepting he was. In a very short time, Yibo found that he could be totally and completely himself with Zhan-ge. 

It was a gift he’d learned not to trust from everyone, and the reason he so often came across as cold to so many people. 

Yibo was accustomed to conforming his personality and face to what others wanted it to be — and occasionally lashing out in aggravation when the frustration of pleasing his elders got to be too much. He always set out to fulfill the expectations of the people that mattered: employers, managers, parents. And he’d found the easiest way to do that was to work hard, look good, and stay quiet.

Yibo never sought out friendships with other actors or idols he worked with on projects. It was easier to keep his distance than deal with the disappointment when others inevitably found him too pretty, too blunt, too odd — too much. He’d also made a name for himself in his barely genial tolerance of reporters and fans. Yibo was well aware and often reminded by his manager and agent about how much he needed both of those groups, but it was frustrating to be asked the same empty questions about issues he cared little about.

He’d been raised on getting attention for his looks, and Yibo was old enough to recognize his own vain tendencies, but getting ogled by fans and always having to worry about how he looked in public got exhausting after a while. When Yibo was constantly being dressed up like a doll for this performance or another modeling promotion, it could be hard to remember which way was up sometimes, let alone who he even was without the glitz and glamour.

But with Xiao Zhan, he was just Yibo.

They saw each other at their best, made beautiful by the stylists, makeup artists, and teams surrounding them — and at their worst, dragging back to their rooms after a 20-hour work day in the scorching heat.

The wigs and costumes required for the drama called extra attention to their appearances, and Yibo’s character, with his dramatic, pale and flowing robes, made it easy to let his inner princess out to play. There were many days when he just embraced it. He liked flying on the wires, fabric fluttering in the breeze with his hair whipping out behind him, and he looked damn good doing it.

Xiao Zhan took his theatrics in stride with little comment. In part, most likely, because the character bleed he was dealing with himself made him naturally more flirty and willing to appreciate Yibo’s flamboyance. Masculine, feminine, and everything in between — however Yibo was comfortable, Zhan-ge accepted it. He would only laugh and go along with Yibo’s antics, soon becoming just as likely to be the one initiating the jokes and pranks. 

Xiao Zhan didn’t judge — and he cared unconditionally.

One night in June, as he and Zhan-ge took a break on the set roof and gazed at the sky, Yibo worried at how hideous he looked and complained that he probably needed his face touched up.

The older man gazed at him with the reflection of a thousand stars glittering in his dark eyes.

“You know you don’t even need all that,” Xiao Zhan had said softly. “The most beautiful part of you is your soul, Bo-di. I feel so fortunate to be someone you let see it.”

That night, Yibo had sworn on the brightest light he could find in the sky that he would do everything possible to keep Xiao Zhan forever, in whatever way the man would let him.

A few days later, when they’d both gotten a couple of days break for the Dragon Boat Festival, he forced the older man out to dinner for his favorite meal before they had to return to the set. Yibo had confessed his feelings to Xiao Zhan like an awkward lead in the type of drama they’d both read too many scripts for. 

Xiao Zhan had smiled at him shyly. “I’m sure there are plenty of people your own age who are much better for you, Bo-di.”

“Probably,” Yibo had replied with a forced laugh, determined to save face. “But I think I’d be better off with an old guy that can keep me in line.”

Xiao Zhan had changed the subject, ignoring the awkwardness left sitting like an elephant on the table, and after paying the bill Yibo assumed he’d been let down easy and they would go on with their friendship and working relationship like functional adults.

And then the minute they got back to Yibo’s room, alone and out of view of the public, Xiao Zhan had kissed him. Not a gentle, ‘let’s see where this goes’ type of kiss, either. A hard, scorching ‘I need you like oxygen’ kiss that went on long enough Yibo thought he might actually get dizzy and faint.

It was glorious.

“This is a horrible idea,” Xiao Zhan had said between continued nips at Yibo’s swollen lips. “But your mouth has been taunting me for months in every way you could possibly manage, and I can’t take it anymore…”

For once, Yibo’s mouth had managed to get him into the kind of trouble he wanted, and he’d smiled like a fool for days after they officially got together, feeling like he’d won a prize far better than he’d ever imagined.

The dancer had certainly never lacked confidence — it was what gave him the courage to try new things without fearing he would fail. But he’d definitely grown up and matured a lot since getting involved with Xiao Zhan. He still liked to look good, but he no longer felt like he needed a constant costume of stylish clothes and accessories to be attractive to others. After years of performing and modeling, any fondness Yibo once had for playing dress up was long gone, and it was freeing that it wasn’t a necessary part of his daily life when he wasn’t working.

Zhan-ge thought he was beautiful, and he never seemed to tire of pointing out how “cute” Yibo was first thing in the morning when he was plain-faced and sleep tousled. Somehow hearing such things from Xiao Zhan gave the younger man a whole new view of himself. Yibo had never felt more settled and comfortable with who he was, and it was all thanks to Xiao Zhan and his love and support.

So far, a year and a half later, their relationship was still going strong. There was a part of Yibo that still couldn’t believe how lucky he was — even inspiring him last year to release a song expressing that very thought. The rough patches and separations caused by their demanding and conflicting work schedules had only made them miss each other more, and drew them back together at every free opportunity. They had fumbled through the last few months promoting CQL once it began airing, maintaining a strict distance even while Yibo secretly enjoyed all the speculation and support from their CP fan base. The interviews and appearances had almost been like working on set with Zhan-ge again, setting aside their normal way of interacting with each other and putting on a show with a different version of themselves.

Xiao Zhan always had a much easier time with this he did. Yibo had never bothered over the years to put on much affectation for promotional work. Xiao Zhan, older and wiser with years of a life led outside the business, found it easier to give the public a certain version of himself. He worried that without the professional veneer, fans wouldn’t like him as much. It was extremely important to him, and he maintained a strict policy that work and his personal life remained separate.

Perfectly sensible, considering his partner could never be recognized publicly. Xiao Zhan’s principles had made it difficult for Yibo to convince him they could be involved and still work together at the same time, without everything going to hell. Even though they started quietly dating toward the end of June while still filming CQL, and spent an exorbitant amount of time together on set, Zhan-ge forced a distance and drew a line on anything too physical until they were nearly done filming.

Zhan-ge worried about a lot of things when it came to the potential pitfalls of a relationship between them —  how it would affect filming, the potential impact on their careers, their age difference, and Yibo’s youth in general.

But those concerns were also what made things work. Director Cheng was constantly telling them to “be more intimate” in scenes and “remember you love each other”. His care and feelings for Xiao Zhan motivated Yibo to throw off some of his childishness and emulate the more mature behavior of Zhan-ge that he respected so much. And the gap in their age seemed to make little difference at all, considering how much their experiences balanced each other out. While Xiao Zhan had lived a “real” life outside of the entertainment business, going to college and having a normal life, his limited experience in the industry made him more naïve to certain things. Yibo had enough background and knowledge to be a help and advisor for Xiao Zhan when he needed it.

Yibo was young and impulsive in all the areas Zhan-ge wasn’t, and vice versa. Where Yibo was likely to take risks, Xiao Zhan played it safe. When Zhan-ge let his schedule and the demands put on him get well out of hand because he was afraid to say “no”, Yibo looked out for him and became the voice of reason.

They just clicked into place with each other, like two puzzle pieces finding their match. It wasn’t always easy to be together and in the public eye, but that also made it uncomplicated in some ways. They understood hectic schedules because they each lived it, and privacy was imperative because they both had so much to lose.

Still, the one thing that Yibo knew best about Xiao Zhan was that he was an incredible actor. So much so it could be difficult for Yibo to read him. Xiao Zhan was playful and fun, but sometimes it was hard to tell if he was doing things because he wanted to, or if it was just to make the other person happy. His desire to please others was so ingrained in his behavior, Yibo worried that the other man was just humoring him.

Which was why Yibo had taken on the Weibo awards show as a personal challenge.

Knowing just how good an actor Xiao Zhan was made it even more important to do everything possible to get a response from him. Yibo knew the man would be keeping himself under strict control — too many people, too many cameras, SO many eyes watching their every move. They had to be careful. Zhan-ge had been very clear, as had Yibo’s manager.

There would be a lot of ridiculously important people in attendance, including government officials, so there could be no hint of any “impropriety”. The fans had still not entirely settled down from the Tencent awards, where they had been just a little too comfortable with each other. Yibo thought they had done a decent job of keeping things cool and platonic between them, but their managers had a file of photos that said otherwise.

As if it was their fault they couldn’t hide how they felt about each other.

Yibo had saved a few of the better, high quality pictures to his computer and swallowed the directions from his manager about “not touching each other under any circumstances” at the next event.

“I don’t care if he falls down the stairs,” she’d told Yibo. “You can’t reach out to catch him.”

Zhan-ge had obviously gotten the same stern lecture from his own team.

“Yibo, we have to be very careful,” he said a day after the New Year when they were finally able to see each other for a few stolen hours before Yibo needed to catch a flight to Changsha to film the next TTXS episode. Xiao Zhan ran his hands soothingly down Yibo’s arms, catching his hands firmly in his own. “I know a lot of fans support us, but you’ve got to remember: safety first. We are both riding at the top of the media charts right now, which quite frankly scares the hell out of me.”

“Bѐi bѐi, that’s a good thing,” Yibo reminded him, wrapping a long arm around Zhan-ge’s waist to pull him closer. “And you deserve the success that brings. Don’t worry, I’m not going to put a target on your back. Or mine for that matter.”

Xiao Zhan looked down at him seriously, his eyes hinting at mischief as the corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile. “So you’ll be a good boy for me? Best behavior?”

“Will I get something nice if I do?” Yibo smirked. He knew Zhan-ge had a thing for calling him a ‘good boy’... although usually they were both wearing much fewer clothes when it happened.

“I’m sure I can think of something,” Xiao Zhan answered, before kissing him senseless in the middle of the kitchen.

Connected lips soon led to a number of other activities, on various surfaces and countertops, to the point Yibo was fairly positive his cleaning staff would outright quit if they had any idea what had taken place there.

He wasn’t exactly concerned. It wasn’t like it was the first time it had happened. And what the staff didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

*****

Yibo might have promised Xiao Zhan he would behave at the awards show, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to get a rise out of the older man.

Literally and figuratively.

As soon as he’d left his apartment to catch his flight, Yibo was calling in a 911 to his stylist for an outfit change for the night of the awards. He knew she was going to have a coronary — the event was only a week away, and they’d already had his ensemble picked out for months. They would barely have time to find something and get it tailored, but Yibo knew it would be well worth risking the stylist’s wrath.

The message he sent to her before boarding his plane was as clear as he could think to make it: “I need to look so pure and innocent, snow wouldn’t dare melt on me. It should scream VIRGIN.”

By the time his flight landed in Changsha, Yibo had received photos of three different options, complete with links to websites for other color options, and a whole new respect for the creative potential of his stylist. Of course, his affinity for wearing women’s clothing did make her job quite a bit easier. It would have been fairly difficult to meet Yibo’s demands otherwise.

Within a day they had pinned down the jacket and pants, put a rush expedited order on both with a call to the company from his manager, and everything came together even easier than he’d expected. He always seemed to need the jackets tailored to accommodate his wide shoulders, but even that worked out to be only a few simple adjustments.

Now, getting ready for the show a week later, Yibo was extremely happy with the look they’d chosen. The baby blue jacket had a simple pattern of dark blue vertical lines with more subtle blue color variations woven into the soft white base of the fabric. The texture was a little rough hewn, adding to the softness of the overall style. There were sets of three pockets on each side of the chest, with white button accents on the flaps, down the middle and along the bottom of the sleeves. His stylist paired it with a simple white turtleneck to play up his “purity”. The plain dark blue slacks would have looked a lot like they belonged to a child’s school uniform if not for the very subtle line of same color satin running down the outside of each leg.

It was simple, basic and almost juvenile, calling to stark attention the fact that Yibo was the didi to nearly every single person in attendance.

It was exactly what he was going for.

His stylist certainly earned her paycheck with the complete look she put together for him. His team kept the makeup simple and youthful, adding plumping cream to his lips to make them perfectly pouty, and his hair tamed into a boyish flop. Accessories were kept to a minimum, a white watch to blend into his sleeve and be less noticeable and no necklace except the one he always wore that Zhan-ge had given him for his birthday, hidden close to his heart beneath his clothes.  

Yibo had a feeling the weight of it on his skin would be a necessary comfort later when they were forcing a chilly distance between them.

He’d slipped a couple of rings on his right hand. If nothing else, it would give him something to fidget with as he sat around, unable to use his phone due to the proximity of other people and cameras. His manager had already reminded him twice that his phone couldn’t leave his jacket unless he was backstage.

The addition of the glasses was, quite frankly, inspired. The round frames softened Yibo’s face and enlarged his eyes, making him appear to be a font of wide-eyed, childish wonder. The best part was that no effort or acting was even needed on his part — no matter how Yibo twisted his face in the mirror, a child seemed to stare back.

If he only could have gotten away with wearing white knee-shorts instead of pants, he really would have appeared the epitome of an innocent, virginal boy straight out of some BL shojo anime.

Although his costume had been created to torment Xiao Zhan, his manager quickly determined it was the best disguise she could have asked for. No one would look at Yibo tonight and even remember he was old enough to be in a relationship, let alone secretly involved with his co-star. In fact, looking at Yibo now and even thinking the word “sex” seemed wrong. His manager was already wondering how often they could pull off a similar look when the CP heat flared and brought the flames too close to destroying his reputation.

As if there was any chance of Yibo agreeing to that.

His handlers were always reminding Yibo how important the fans were, but in general he couldn’t be convinced to care. He had learned a long time ago that no matter what he did, some people would hate him. Yibo had learned to live with the judgement. Fans would turn on you, and the only opinions that truly mattered were those of the people he cared about — his family, the TTXS brothers, a handful of close friends and Xiao Zhan.

His opinion mattered most of all.

And Yibo was practically vibrating with excitement to find out what Zhan-ge thought of tonight’s look.

*****

Still, it was a rough night.

To the outside observer, Xiao Zhan appeared extremely frigid, almost hostile toward him. Yibo was used to Zhan-ge’s “public face” as the younger man jokingly called it. He had expected the controlled distance and invisible wall that always went up between them when other eyes could see them. 

But something about tonight was different. Yibo wasn’t sure if it was the pressure of being at the top that was starting to get to Xiao Zhan or a resolution he’d set for himself in the new year to protect them both at all costs. Whatever the case, Yibo wasn’t used to being ignored by Zhan-ge completely. Over the course of promoting CQL, he had always been able to catch the older man’s eye and find reassurance in the brown depths.

There was none of that tonight. Only a harsh coldness that looked out of place on Xiao Zhan’s normally relaxed and smiling face. They hardly made eye contact and spoke very little to each other, mostly due to being seated with multiple people between them. It was an arrangement Yibo knew both of their managers had made happen.

Yet Yibo recognized the facade. The smoldering fire in his gaze when Zhan-ge allowed himself to look just a little too long might have appeared to be nerves to others, but Yibo knew him too well.

He had managed to throw the older man off his game. Just enough to unnerve him when his eyes betrayed him and settled on Yibo, playing the part he’d been given and looking every bit the picture of an innocent, wide-eyed youth.

Tonight’s look, though much less androgenous, held all the same appeal as his virginal persona from the early UNIQ days. And really, it was Zhan-ge’s own fault if he was being tortured a little. Yibo knew how much Xiao Zhan secretly loved the old pictures of him with long, baby-blond hair. He’d seen them hidden deep in the camera roll on the older man’s phone. But when Yibo had tried to force him to delete them, Zhan-ge instigated a distraction with his mouth so thoroughly Yibo completely forgot all about the pictures.

It was nice to be able to deliver a little payback once in a while.

As they stood on stage to accept their award, Xiao Zhan purposefully avoided his gaze, and Yibo couldn’t help but tease him a little. He could tell Zhan-ge was wound tighter than a spring, and it was just instinct for Yibo to offer a distraction, trying to get his boyfriend to smile and relax even for a moment.

His opportunity appeared after they had gotten their awards, but had to stay on the stage for a little game that was planned. As everyone turned to Yibo’s side of the stage to see the parade of women carrying out decorated fans, Xiao Zhan had no choice but to look Yibo’s way. The second Yibo knew the older man was looking, he discretely contorted his mouth into a very quick pucker, just as he used to do when he’d secretly blow kisses to Xiao Zhan on set.

Xiao Zhan was good, Yibo had to give him that. To the naked eye and the cameras watching, there was probably no reaction at all on his face.

But Yibo noticed the barely visible widening in his eyes at the bold move. He heard Xiao Zhan’s sharp intake of air and the way his breath hitched as he quickly spun around to tear his eyes away to safer locations.

The smirk that stole over Yibo’s face was impossible to suppress. He would definitely be hearing about that little stunt later, but it was totally worth it.

After a few minutes on stage, they were headed back to their seats, but Xiao Zhan didn’t seem to be staying, instead he grabbed his things from the bench to leave the area.

“I’m out,” Xiao Zhan said quietly when he passed in front of Yibo, trying to work his way through the narrow row of seats to the wide path of the aisle.

“Mn,” Yibo acknowledged with a nod. They both knew they would see each other later at home.

“Don’t change.” Xiao Zhan breathed the words as he slid by, mouth barely moving and so hushed Yibo wondered if he’d actually imagined it. And then he was gone, long legs carrying him away to wherever he would be required to appear and answer more of what would most likely be inane questions. Or if he was lucky, possibly just escaping to a dressing room to get out of the spotlights for a little while before he’d be required to make another appearance.

Yibo had no intention of changing. He’d worn the outfit in large part to get a reaction from Xiao Zhan. Though he had gotten a very controlled response, Yibo anticipated Zhan-ge’s private and unfettered feedback would be well worth the wait.

*****

Since Yibo had been able to leave the venue a lot earlier than Xiao Zhan, he had little to do once he got home besides sit around and wait. He couldn’t change, which meant there was no point in bothering with a shower yet, so video games seemed like the best way to kill time. Yibo was on the couch in the living room, well into his fifth competition in the racing game he’d been playing, when he heard the rattle of the door being opened and then closed.

“You. Little. Shit,” Xiao Zhan said roughly the minute he stepped through the entryway and caught sight of the younger man.

Thrown by the greeting, Yibo wasn’t sure how to react. He quickly stopped the game and set down his controller, knowing from the tone of his boyfriend’s voice that he wouldn’t be getting back to it anytime soon. Xiao Zhan cursing at him wasn’t completely unexpected, but it was said in English — which was not only rare but required a certain amount of effort and focus to deliver. And it was a long way from the lighthearted “Gou zai zai” (naughty puppy) or equally loving but derogatory phrases he’d been expecting.

Zhan-ge had tossed his jacket by the door along with his shoes but was still in most of the clothes he’d worn earlier that evening. With his tie loosened and a few buttons undone at his neck, Yibo guessed he must have come straight from the show instead of making a stop at one of the after-parties he’d been invited to.

Usually Xiao Zhan liked to strip off everything and shower once he got home, as if work was a shell he could scrub off and rinse down the drain, giving him the freedom to relax and be himself again. But now he was twitchy and agitated, staring Yibo down as he approached the couch and making no move toward the bath.

“What?” Yibo smirked, standing up to face him. There was no way he was going to take any crap from Zhan-ge when he’d done nothing all night except follow his directions. “I was good! Look at me! I did exactly what you wanted.”

“Oh, I can see,” Xiao Zhan said slowly, his gaze sliding over Yibo from head to toe in a way that made a shiver slide down the younger man’s spine. “This wasn’t the original outfit for tonight, was it? You showed me pictures before. It wasn’t this.”

He’d gotten close enough to reach up and pull at the collar of Yibo’s jacket, his hand tripping down the fabric to run his fingers along the flaps on the left side.

“Yeah… We changed it,” Yibo explained in a low voice.

Xiao Zhan’s whole demeanor was still tightly coiled, an undercurrent of anger and menace simmering just below the surface. His voice was calm and controlled as he asked, “Why?”

“I thought you’d like this better. My manager definitely did,” Yibo answered, unable to resist being a bit of a brat. “Don’t I look good, Zhan-ge? So innocent?”

He let his hands settle in their natural place on Xiao Zhan’s waist, noticing how close the fingers on his large hands were to touching each other. He was going to have to get on Zhan-ge again to eat more. The older man was horrible about that when he got busy, and always too concerned about his weight to begin with.

“Innocent?” Xiao Zhan scoffed. “You could say that. I don’t even know what to do with all of this,” he gestured to Yibo’s ensemble. “Part of me wants to take you to bed, and the other part of me feels like if I do, I’d be committing a crime!”

A guttural laugh burst from Yibo’s throat as he completely lost it in hysterics, his grip tightening to pull Xiao Zhan closer as he leaned his forehead onto the taller man’s collarbone. With their chests pressed together, both of them shook with the vibrations of Yibo’s laughter, and he felt Xiao Zhan’s body finally begin to relax under his palms.

“You wanted me to be a good little boy,” Yibo explained, lifting his head to look into his boyfriend’s eyes with a smile.

Xiao Zhan’s hands bracketed Yibo’s neck, his thumbs caressing the smooth skin gingerly. “Yes, well, I didn’t realize you were going to go full Little Prince on me. You’re just missing a crown. It’s a shame my King award didn’t come with one.”

“I’d never dream of stealing Zhan-ge’s crown,” Yibo simpered, gazing up at Xiao Zhan and fluttering his eyelashes for good measure.

One of Xiao Zhan’s hands slid up to cup Yibo’s jaw, stroking the barest hint of invisible stubble on his face. “No, just my heart.”

A wide grin spread over Yibo’s face. “Sap,” he pointed out affectionately.

He started to push up onto his toes to steal a kiss when Zhan-ge stopped him, hands grasping Yibo’s shoulders. 

“You’ve got to at least lose the glasses first, Bo-di,” he said with a soft smile. “I know I’m older, but I feel like I’m going to get arrested, and it’s seriously creeping me out.”

“You idiot,” Yibo chuckled, but removed the glasses and slipped off the jacket for good measure, tossing them onto the nearby couch. “Is that better?”

He was rewarded with a sweet kiss that swiftly turned searing as Xiao Zhan pulled him closer. Yibo’s hands seemed determined to fulfill their own agenda, pulling at the older man’s white shirt to untuck it and slip underneath, sliding his palms against the firm lines of his boyfriend’s ribs and back.

“I hate it when I can’t touch you,” Yibo admitted, breaking away from the tantalizing taste of Xiao Zhan’s mouth to lay a trail of kisses along his long neck.

“That reminds me,” Xiao Zhan grumbled, pulling away far enough to be able to look down at Yibo’s face. “What the hell was Yixing trying to pull?”

The dangerous tone was back in his voice, and with his lips in a barely contained sneer, the fire in his eyes no longer came just from desire. Yibo had seen this side of Xiao Zhan a number of times, and while he secretly loved watching him get jealous, he knew all the man really wanted was reassurance.

It was difficult in the business, having an attractive partner and watching them be surrounded by beautiful people who often showed more than a passing interest. Yibo certainly knew that himself first-hand.

Still, he wasn’t entirely sure what had Zhan-ge so riled up this time. “What are you talking about?”

Xiao Zhan yanked himself roughly out of Yibo’s arms, backing away from his reach. “Are you kidding me?”

“No?”

“Seriously?” Xiao Zhan huffed angrily. “It’s the end of the world if we lay a finger on each other, but he’s allowed to hold your hand and drag you around the stage? And the stupid catwalk thing they had you do. What — did he think you were incapable of walking by yourself? He had to be with you?”

“Maybe he was just trying to help,” Yibo countered. “He’s a decent guy, and he’s a Gege so…”

“You’re my didi.” Xiao Zhan’s voice was deep and possessive in a way Yibo had never heard it outside filming a scene. Not even when they’d been doing CQL and Yu Bin had, only half joking, kept hitting on Yibo at every opportunity.

“Is that what was bothering you?” Yibo asked.

“Mn.” The non-committal of an answer was more glaring than an actual response.

“Stupid man. I don’t need you to protect me,” Yibo retorted, trying to control his own aggravation. It would be ridiculous to get into a fight over a non-issue like this. “We’re just friends. Shared experiences make for easy acquaintances. There aren’t exactly a lot of other Chinese members of Korean vocal groups.”

Xiao Zhan was quiet for a moment, which Yibo knew meant he was processing and letting the more logical part of his brain come back online. He moved back over into Yibo’s space, taking his hand and letting it engulf his own.

“I don’t like people touching what’s mine,” he said finally. “Especially when I can’t… We can’t… “

“I know, I know.” Yibo wrapped Zhan-ge in a hug, pressing their bodies close, and ran his hands slowly up and down his boyfriend’s back, soothing him like he would a nervous animal.

“I hate things like tonight. That we can’t even sit together or acknowledge each other without it becoming an issue. I love you… How beautiful and amazing you are, your talent…” Xiao Zhan admitted. “And I would never keep from sharing you with the rest of the world. I just wish people could know to look but not touch.”

Xiao Zhan paused for a moment and then chuckled at his own ridiculousness, shaking his head. They were both well aware that other people knowing anything about them would never happen. It would always be limited to only the people closest to them that could be trusted and those directly involved in their careers. Yibo would have been fine with just letting people draw their own conclusions about their relationship, but it was Xiao Zhan’s rule, and he followed it.

“I disagree. I think this is actually where Lan Wangji had the right idea,” Yibo said lightly, trying to diffuse the heavy weight of the conversation. When Xiao Zhan only gave him a look of confusion in return, he continued, “I would be totally fine with bringing you home and just hiding you.”

The comment finally seemed to break the dark cloud hanging over Xiao Zhan, who threw his head back in a boisterous laugh. Yibo was sure that no matter how long he lived, he would never tire of seeing that smile, the one that lit up the entire room.

It was a nice thought, keeping Zhan-ge all to himself, but Yibo also recognized that too much of a good thing was often dangerous. Xiao Zhan was the type of person that needed attention and sunlight to thrive, and he would wither away without performing and having enough outlets to express himself. Besides, Yibo was aware there were many people that desperately needed that bit of joy they got from watching Xiao Zhan or listening to him sing. His sun shining on them through their screens brightened their moods and their lives. It was much too greedy to keep the rest of the world from someone so incredible.

Startled, Yibo realized that was exactly what Zhan-ge had been saying — about him. It was strange the way they understood each other so well, in part because they were both dealing with the exact same issues and feelings in regard to each other.

“Ah, Lan Er Gege,” Xiao Zhan sighed, looking down at Yibo with eyes shining with affection and amusement. “I think if you tried to lock me in here, my team would just come looking and drag me out!”

A hand reached up to fiddle with Yibo’s hair, still stiff and sticky with the styling products they’d used earlier to prepare him for the show.

“Eh. I could take them,” Yibo grinned. His hands grip tightened on the back of Xiao Zhan’s shirt. “Are you going to go shower?”

“Are you?” Xiao Zhan asked. “I’m surprised you didn’t scrub your face the minute you got home.”

“You told me not to change, so…” Yibo trailed off with a shrug, unsure of Zhan-ge’s plan for the rest of the evening. He was probably tired, given the long night he’d had. Being “on” for shows tended to exhaust him more than Yibo, who was more used to live audiences due to his job at TTXS.

“Want to be a responsible global citizen and save water?” Xiao Zhan asked with a wicked grin. He certainly didn’t look too tired. As a matter of fact, Zhan-ge had the glint in his eye that meant their bedroom was about to become an active playground for the foreseeable future.

Yibo was suddenly very glad he had nothing at all on his schedule for tomorrow.

There was no point in even trying to resist Zhan-ge’s charms, and they both knew it, but Yibo made a half-hearted attempt for show, anyway. “Is it really saving water when we both take twice as long every time we share the shower?”

Zhan-ge took his hand and began dragging him toward the bathroom, throwing a look of cocky innocence over his shoulder that only Xiao Zhan could pull off. “Is that supposed to be my fault?”

“Yes!” Yibo laughed as he tugged his shirt over his head with his free hand, tossing it on the floor in the hallway. “You start obsessing about the size of my hands and want to put them to use.”

“They are very nice hands.” Xiao Zhan turned in the doorway of the bathroom, his heated gaze roaming hungrily over the skin Yibo had exposed. “But tonight, I think you’ve earned something different. Good little boys should always be rewarded.”

There was something a little dangerous in his half-lidded gaze, and Yibo shivered at the possibilities. He was suddenly looking very forward to whatever Zhan-ge had in store for him.

It was going to be an extremely interesting night, indeed.