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“It’s open!” Xiao Zhan hollers at the door when he hears a knock. He’s just added the egg to the wok for his fried rice, so it’s not like he can step away. And he’s pretty sure he knows who it is.
Wang Yibo always seems to appear whenever he’s cooking.
Sure enough, Xiao Zhan catches the glint of bright blond hair in his peripheral vision as he manhandles the heavy wok over the stove.
“Mmm, looks good, gege,” Yibo calls out from his perch at the kitchen island.
Xiao Zhan sets the wok down, flicks off the stove, and turns in time to catch Yibo giving him an obvious once-over with his eyes. He knows he was meant to have caught him when Yibo looks up and gives him a shit-eating grin.
Xiao Zhan laughs.
When the new academic year began, Xiao Zhan’s college buddy Zhuocheng called to tell him that his cousin had just enrolled as a freshman at the university where Xiao Zhan was a grad student. Yibo was a shy kid, Zhuocheng said, so he’d hoped that Xiao Zhan could maybe keep an eye on him and help him get settled into college life.
That was over three months ago, and ever since, Yibo has been a fixture around Xiao Zhan’s flat.
If Xiao Zhan had any complaints, it’s that Zhuocheng had lied about the “shy” part — Yibo is anything but, at least as far as Xiao Zhan is concerned. Xiao Zhan isn’t actually upset about that, though. Yibo is a nice kid. He’s funny and welcome company. Even if he is doubling Xiao Zhan’s grocery budget.
“I have a favor to ask of you, gege,” Yibo informs him as they eat.
Xiao Zhan raises a wary eyebrow at Yibo, who grins around soft cheeks bulging with food. Usually Xiao Zhan agrees easily when friends ask him for favors, but with Yibo, he’s pretty sure there will be more to it than borrowing a book or a pair of shoes.
“Maybe? It depends on what you’re asking for.”
Yibo bites his lip and gives Xiao Zhan his most devastating puppy dog eyes. Right then, Xiao Zhan knows that he’s going to say yes to whatever Yibo wants.
“So,” Yibo starts, pausing to swallow his food and wash it down with a gulp of Xiao Zhan’s cold-brewed green tea. “There’s this guy I’m interested in, and… I don’t know how to catch his attention—”
Xiao Zhan takes in the way Yibo averts his eyes as he twists in his chair. Oh. He isn’t prepared for the thunk in his chest upon hearing this confession and watching a shy blush spread all the way to the tips of Yibo's ears as he talks about another guy.
It’s suddenly painfully clear that Xiao Zhan had taken for granted he would always be the center of Yibo’s attention. He’d quite enjoyed it — not in a creepy way, of course, but... Well. It’s not worth thinking about anymore, now that Yibo’s got a crush on someone else.
He shakes off his surprise and snorts.
Yibo looks wounded. “Wh-why is that funny, Zhan-ge?”
“Oh please, Yibo,” he replies, letting his eyes trail from Yibo’s tousled blond locks to his pretty eyes and down to his plush pink lips, shiny with gloss. “I don’t believe for a second that you could have any trouble attracting anyone’s attention—”
Yibo preens at this, his face lighting up with delight. “Really, ge? Do you really mean that?”
Xiao Zhan rolls his eyes to deflect the concussive force of Yibo’s smile. It works, sort of, but Xiao Zhan knows he’s going to give in to Yibo anyway. He always does. “Ah, Yibo, just tell me what you want me to do,” he says with an exaggeratedly resigned air.
“Okay,” Yibo grins, eagerly leaning across the counter, “I’m pretty sure he’s gonna be at this club opening tonight... so... can you... go with me?” He finishes with a hopeful, begging look that has surely felled stronger men than Xiao Zhan.
But, Xiao Zhan reminds himself, he’s being asked to play wingman or something to help Yibo reel in some other guy. He would look pathetic if he agreed too readily to play this role.
He scrunches his nose at Yibo, then looks up at the ceiling, as if consulting his mental calendar. “Ahh… tonight?”
Yibo laughs. “I know you don’t have plans, gege. Come on.”
Xiao Zhan slits his eyes at the shade Yibo throws at him and his homebody habits, as if Yibo himself hasn’t been a major reason he’s been staying in on weekend nights to play video games or to watch movies.
“You must have younger, hipper friends to take clubbing, Yibo. How many people did you ask before having to settle for this old man?”
“No one would make a more handsome date than Zhan-ge.”
For a moment, Xiao Zhan almost believes Yibo is being earnest, but then Yibo flashes that annoyingly hot half-smirk of his, making it clear that he’s just rainbow-farting, as usual.
“Date, huh?” Xiao Zhan snorts. “You want me to go with you as your date so you can pick up another guy?”
“I wanna make the guy jealous.”
“Oh Yibo,” Xiao Zhan groans, “why all the games? Why not just tell him how you feel? Is he another student? Someone in your class?”
“No,” Yibo answers, studying his bowl of rice with an enigmatic smile, “he’s… older.”
Xiao Zhan is surprised at how much this bit of information bothers him. “An older guy, Yibo? I don’t know about this…”
“Please, Zhan-ge? I - I really like him.”
“Yibo, I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on you, not helping you hook up with skeevy older men—”
Yibo sticks out his lower lip and looks up at Xiao Zhan through his lashes. “He’s not skeevy, Zhan-ge. He’s… perfect,” Yibo sighs, his face going a little dreamy. “And anyway, if you help me, then you can keep an eye on me if you have to.” He twirls a blond lock around a finger. “You can even watch, if you’re into that—”
“Wang Yibo!” Xiao Zhan warns, baring his teeth and reaching over to deliver a swat to his shoulder.
Yibo spins away and laughs, that boyish, croaky sound that’s so startlingly out of sync with his pretty face. He hops off the kitchen stool and is suddenly at Xiao Zhan’s side, pulling on his arm and leaning in, too close.
“So you’ll help me, Zhan-ge?”
Xiao Zhan gives Yibo a performative grumble. Yibo’s young, but he’s not a child, and it’s not like he’s not allowed to date. Xiao Zhan would be a hypocrite to judge — he’d done more than his fair share of adventuring and experimenting when he was Yibo’s age and enjoying the freedom of college for the first time.
And maybe Yibo’s right — this might be the best way for Xiao Zhan to watch over him and make sure he’s okay. If the guy turns out to be a jerk or a pervert, he’d be right there and could get Yibo out of there safely.
“Okay,” Xiao Zhan agrees. “You’ve got yourself a fake date.”
Yibo’s smile is incandescent as he sashays backwards to the door. “You can come get me at eight tonight, gege.”
💚💚💚💚💚
That evening, Xiao Zhan knocks on the door of Yibo’s flat. He’d tried to dress up because of course Yibo is going to go all out, and Xiao Zhan knows his job is to make someone else jealous. So tonight he’s dressed in his nicest black suit and this absurdly expensive silky white-collared shirt with a zipper up the front, something his friend Lulu had talked him into buying once when they’d gone shopping together.
Clearly though, Yibo still isn’t ready. Or if he is, then Xiao Zhan has seriously misunderstood his assignment.
“What is this?” Xiao Zhan asks with an amused grin, waving a hand at the cow print onesie that Yibo is wearing. On top of his ridiculous get-up, his hair is still wet, and his face is uncharacteristically bare.
“I threw it on when I got out of the shower,” Yibo mutters. “You got here earlier than I expected.”
Xiao Zhan cocks an eyebrow at him and taps his watch. “You asked me to come here at eight.”
“Zhan-ge—” Yibo draws out in an oh god you are so clueless tone, “no one cool goes clubbing this early—” He stops mid-whine and eyes Xiao Zhan suspiciously. “What. Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Oh,” Xiao Zhan startles, realizing too late that he was staring at Yibo. “I - I just haven’t seen you like this before, with your hair wet and without any makeup on—”
Yibo pulls the hood of his onesie over his head with a little squeal and covers his face. It’s stupidly adorable, and Xiao Zhan can’t help but laugh out loud.
“Ugh!” Yibo cries, and spins on his heel to retreat to his room. “See, you came over too early, and now—”
“Aish, Yibo,” Xiao Zhan coaxes, catching Yibo by an elbow and turning him back around. He peels Yibo’s hands from his face. He’d meant to do it lightheartedly, but now that he’s got Yibo’s face in his palms and Yibo is looking up at him, eyes wide and lips parted in expectation, Xiao Zhan finds he’s suddenly tongue-tied.
He drops his hands and turns his face away to cough. “You - you look good this way, Yibo. I, uhhh, like the barefaced look, actually.”
Yibo narrows his eyes at him, like he’s waiting for a punchline that doesn’t come. “You - you do?”
“I do,” Xiao Zhan nods. “I like it a lot on you. But,” he hurries to add, remembering his place, “if your crush likes you all made up, you look good that way too.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You always look good, Yibo, you know that.”
Yibo chews on the bright grin that this praise elicits. “You always look good too, gege.” As if to emphasize this point, he gives Xiao Zhan an appreciative leer, eyes dragging slowly from the top of his head downwards, his smile growing as he takes in everything... until he gets to Xiao Zhan’s shirt.
Yibo’s face pinches with disgust. “What is this?” he demands, pulling at the edge of the undershirt peeking out from under Xiao Zhan’s collar.
Xiao Zhan bats Yibo’s hand away and pats his shirt back into place. “Hey, the neckline is kind of low—”
“Lose the undershirt, gege. It makes you look like a grandpa—”
“—and the shirt is a little too sheer for my liking—”
“Lose it,” Yibo demands with an insistent stomp of a socked foot. “You’ve got a whole jacket on top of the shirt too!”
Xiao Zhan huffs out an exasperated breath. “Fine. Fine. It’s your night.”
He’s still zipping his shirt back up, barely two steps out of the bathroom, when Yibo grabs his hand and gestures for him to have a seat on his bed.
“Sit here. I need you to help me pick out what to wear,” he instructs as he ducks into his walk-in closet to get changed.
The first outfit Yibo models is a simple pink tunic over ripped jeans, not much different from what he might wear on any given day that they hang out. “What do you think?” he asks as he frames his face with his fingers and tosses his head into a flirty tilt.
Xiao Zhan giggles at the silly pose. “It’s… cute?”
Yibo swats him on the arm.
“What? That wasn’t what you were going for? You did the whole girly sajiao thing—”
This earns Xiao Zhan a furious glare, but then Yibo rolls his eyes and grunts curtly. “Yeah, okay fine,” he relents, and disappears back into the closet.
When he comes back out again, he’s wearing a baby blue sweater with the words, “Escort Boys” emblazoned across the chest.
“No, no, no,” Xiao Zhan barks out, waving his hands wildly. “Definitely not. Are you crazy? I’m not going to be seen with you in a club wearing that sweater.”
Yibo fixes his eyes on Xiao Zhan, his expression unreadable, and then stomps back into his closet.
Xiao Zhan calls in after him. “Are you just fucking with me here? Didn’t you say this guy was older? If this is what turns him on, I already don’t like him.”
Yibo doesn’t reply, and Xiao Zhan grimaces and shakes his head at himself. He’s doing it again, inserting his own feelings into Yibo’s plan to reel in his guy. He’s just the fake boyfriend, to be shrugged off like that sweater at the end of the night. He needs to let Yibo do things his own way.
He clears his throat and adopts a less bossy tone. “Hey, Yibo?”
There’s still no response.
Xiao Zhan tries again, softening his voice still further. “Yibo, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I just - I just get a little protective of you, and—”
Yibo’s head pops around the corner of the door. He grins. “No, I like it.”
“What?”
“I said I like it. When you’re protective. Makes me feel like you care.” He disappears back into the closet.
Xiao Zhan stares after him. “Well, I do care,” he murmurs quietly, and his eyes widen at the sudden flutter in his chest.
Oh shit.
💚💚💚💚💚
It’s well after ten before they get to the club.
After an extended fashion show, Yibo finally settled on a bright yellow furry jacket over tight black clothing. It’s an eye-catching look, kicked up a notch with a chaotic tangle of what looks like a dozen necklaces and sparkly, dangly earrings. His blond hair is perfectly mussed and his makeup is flawless, accentuating his porcelain skin and striking phoenix eyes.
Yibo looks gorgeous in a sophisticated way that Xiao Zhan honestly hadn’t expected, not after a good hour of him parading out in cutesy outfits that only made Xiao Zhan feel more and more like he’d be mistaken for Yibo’s chaperone instead of his boyfriend.
His fake boyfriend, he reminds himself. Yibo isn’t really his. Xiao Zhan’s nothing more than another accessory to make Yibo more alluring and desirable — all to attract someone else.
If he’s suddenly feeling regrets about that, it’s too late now. He had his chances.
Inside, the darkness is punctuated with walls glowing sapphire blue, colored strobes blinking and sweeping across the crowd within. The bass thumps loudly with a techno beat.
Yibo leans in close to be heard over the din. “Hold my hand, gege.”
Xiao Zhan laughs lightly as he feels Yibo’s fingers twine with his. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the dark? Here? Inside a club?”
Yibo turns his face up to gaze at him sweetly, but Xiao Zhan can see his eyes flash at the teasing over his fear of the dark. “No, gege,” he says through gritted teeth before molding himself to Xiao Zhan’s side for all to see. “We’re supposed to be dating, remember? I want everyone to see we’re together.” Yibo lifts their joined hands into the pulsing lights and tightens his grip.
Xiao Zhan nods at the pointed reminder of his role tonight, and straightens up, his eyes scanning over the crowd to check out their audience. He doesn’t know what Yibo’s crush looks like, and it’s not like he can see much in the club, between the darkness and his own nearsightedness. He may as well just play his part and let Yibo handle it.
“Stop looking around, gege,” Yibo pouts, and angles Xiao Zhan’s face towards him with a warm palm against his cheek. “People might think you’re not into me.”
Xiao Zhan fights off the urge to lean into Yibo’s touch, to bend in closer to those plush pink lips and—
He needs a little breathing room, or he’ll do something stupid.
“I-I’ll uhhh, get us some drinks,” he stammers out, pulling back. “What can I get you?”
Xiao Zhan thinks he catches a flicker of disappointment on Yibo's face when he steps away, although it’s probably a trick of the light. Yibo cocks his head and releases his hand. “Surprise me, gege.”
As Xiao Zhan waits by the bar for their order, he glances back (Yibo's bright blond hair and yellow jacket are like a beacon in the crowded club) and sees that someone has taken his place and is eagerly chatting Yibo up. He chews on his lip and waits for Yibo to look for him, but Yibo’s full attention is on his new companion.
He stares harder at the scene when the man reaches out to touch Yibo’s arm and Yibo beams in response. Xiao Zhan chants in his head for Yibo to look up look at me and wonders at the wave of annoyance he feels when Yibo doesn’t.
It’s that protectiveness he feels for Yibo, he tells himself. He’s only looking out for him, nothing more! He just wants Yibo to look at him and signal with his eyes to let him know what he should do as the fake boyfriend.
Fake. Remember that. He sighs and looks over at his replacement, someone tall and rakishly handsome. This is probably Yibo’s crush, meaning that Xiao Zhan has completed his objective for the night in record time. He really should go home now, instead of glaring at this guy that Yibo is clearly happy to talk to.
On the other hand...
Xiao Zhan needs to make sure the guy isn’t a creep. And really, stalking over now would be playing the part he agreed to. Show The Other Guy that he has competition. It’s what Yibo would want, he’s sure of it.
So when the bartender hands him their drinks, Xiao Zhan squares his shoulders and walks back to Yibo.
“Your drink,” he says with an indulgent smile, then looks pointedly at The Other Guy as he slides a possessive arm around Yibo’s waist.
The Other Guy shuffles his feet self-consciously at the way Yibo sighs and settles into Xiao Zhan’s side. When Yibo doesn’t turn his attention back to him, The Other Guy awkwardly raises his beer bottle in salute and retreats.
Xiao Zhan watches in satisfaction as he leaves, then leans in close to murmur into Yibo’s ear, “Was that your crush?”
Yibo smiles enigmatically and knocks back his drink. “Dance with me, gege.”
Xiao Zhan’s confidence quickly dissipates — Yibo is a performing arts major and is an amazing dancer. Xiao Zhan is… not. The idea of being utterly humiliated on the dance floor makes him anxious.
“But— Oh no, I don’t—”
Yibo presses against him, his breath ghosting on the shell of Xiao Zhan’s ear. “Trust me.”
Xiao Zhan lets himself be dragged to the dance floor, and he gamely tries to mirror Yibo’s moves, but it’s really no use. It’s all he can do to keep moving, his feet stuck in a monotonous shuffle while he swings his arms rhythmically in time with the beat.
Yibo, on the other hand, is an arresting vision. His body moves like liquid sex, swirling and flowing around Xiao Zhan. Everything about the way Yibo dances makes Xiao Zhan think dirty thoughts, from the arch of his throat when he tosses his head back, to the way his lips are parted as he swivels and thrusts his hips to the beat of the thumping music.
Even if Xiao Zhan could hope to keep up, there’s no room to move. Yibo’s hands are everywhere, and his body is writhing up against his, as if Xiao Zhan were a human stripper pole.
I’m a prop, he suddenly understands, just a backdrop for Yibo to perform with so he can catch someone else’s eye. None of this is for Xiao Zhan.
Xiao Zhan scans the crowd for The Other Guy, then tries to settle his eyes anywhere else but on Yibo, because the feel of Yibo’s body on his has his self-control hanging by one thin thread. He digs his nails into his palms to stop himself from reaching out and doing something he'll regret.
But Yibo is making this very hard. Or rather, making Xiao Zhan very hard.
Xiao Zhan is just a man, and this is too much temptation. So when the song finally ends, he excuses himself.
“This old man needs to sit down,” he jokes, then carves his way through the crowd, away from the dance floor. He throws himself down on an available couch and fidgets uncomfortably. He’s glad that it’s dark in the club, and that no one can see the effect Yibo’s dancing is having on him.
Just as he breathes a sigh of relief, Yibo finds him and drapes himself on his lap. Xiao Zhan shrieks and cowers against the couch. “Wh-what are you doing?”
“What?” Yibo challenges with a mischievous smirk. Xiao Zhan shifts his hips, desperately trying to keep Yibo away from his hard-on, but he’s already pressed into the cushions as far as he can go. Yibo fixes a dark, intense gaze on Xiao Zhan that feels like fire on his skin. “You don’t like it? You’re supposed to be my date tonight — my boyfriend, remember?”
Xiao Zhan takes a deep breath, his voice tight. “Yibo, I-I’m just playing your boyfriend, so you can get some other guy into these pants.” He coughs, realizing that his fingers are absently tracing a path up Yibo’s thigh. He pulls his hand back and tries to look away, but Yibo doesn’t let him, moving still closer and raising a curious eyebrow at him.
“Oh? You don’t seem very happy about that."
Xiao Zhan grimaces. “Yeah well, maybe - maybe, I’m not,” he mumbles.
“Stop thinking so much,” Yibo says, and any protest Xiao Zhan might have made is lost in the sweet static that fills his head when Yibo’s soft lips meet his. In response, an embarrassing little whine rises in his throat.
His whole body lights up at the feel of Yibo’s mouth on his, the taste of his teasing tongue, and it takes all of his self-control not to throw Yibo back on the couch and devour him whole, right there in the middle of the club.
“Yibo,” he gasps, pulling away, “please. I can’t—”
Yibo regards him with a curious head tilt, like he can’t make sense of the small nervous breakdown that Xiao Zhan is having before his eyes. “Can’t what, gege?”
“—hold back if - if you—”
“Then don’t,” Yibo answers simply, running the palms of his hands over Xiao Zhan’s shoulders as he leans in.
Xiao Zhan dodges away. “I don’t want—” he huffs, breathless, unsure how to say what he’s feeling, what he really wants.
“You don’t want what?” Yibo asks with a pout. “You - you don’t want me?”
“It’s not that,” Xiao Zhan protests. He swallows hard, feeling his face heat up. “I just - I don’t want to be your - your... fluffer,” he finishes lamely.
Yibo blinks. “My what?”
“Fluffer. The dude on a porn set who’s just there to get you ready to fuck someone else.”
“You’re not fluffing me,” Yibo laughs breathily.
Xiao Zhan clears his throat. He really should push Yibo off his lap, but he can’t bring himself to. “That's - that's not what’s going on here?”
“No, gege… I told you. I just wanted to make my crush jealous.”
“I—” Xiao Zhan starts, then sighs. Whether Yibo fucks some other guy tonight is not his business. Yibo isn’t his. It’s too late to decide that, maybe, he wishes Yibo were.
But if he can’t have Yibo’s heart, Xiao Zhan can at least protect his own. He looks around. “Okay, so… mission accomplished yet? Because… I’m sorry… I can’t do this anymore—”
“Why?” Yibo asks, brows furrowed like he’s genuinely confused by how Xiao Zhan is behaving. And why wouldn’t he be? Xiao Zhan agreed to this whole plan, and now he’s being all weird about it.
Yibo traces a teasing finger down Xiao Zhan’s jaw. “Gege. Are - are you jealous?”
Xiao Zhan winces at the mocking tone of Yibo’s voice. He knows he’s being ridiculous and now he wishes he could sink into the floor and disappear, but Yibo’s right there, on his lap, and there’s nowhere to run.
He might as well be honest about it. There’s no reason not to be. It’s not like Yibo will be coming around to hang out anymore once he’s snared his crush.
He feels his cheeks burn as he nods, unable to meet Yibo’s eyes. “Yeah. Yeah I guess I am.”
Yibo smiles brightly, then tips Xiao Zhan’s chin up and places a soft kiss on his lips. “Good. Then my plan worked.”
Xiao Zhan stares at Yibo in confusion. “I-I’m sorry, what?”
“My crush,” Yibo says with a flirty bite of his lip, “is jealous.”
Oh.
Yibo giggles at the dumbfounded expression on Xiao Zhan’s face. “Really, gege? All this time, and you didn’t know?”
Xiao Zhan feels his ears redden at the same time that a happy grin blooms on his face. “Wahh, you and your games, Yibo—”
“I got your attention, though, didn't I? I like you, Zhan-ge. So let’s try this again, old man, and this time, try to keep up, okay?”
And with that, Yibo hops up, pulls Xiao Zhan to his feet, and drags him back to the dance floor.
