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Yibo stares down at the toy in his hand. It’s simple, elegant in its plainness, unassuming. He has plenty of experience with things like this one and many more, it’s just that. He’s never really done much with them beyond the four walls of a bedroom.
Xiao Zhan had put the vibrator in Yibo’s bag before they left for the reception, and Yibo’s been thinking about it all night. After the salads were served, Yibo excused himself to use the restroom and fetched the small, sleek thing before locking himself away in this toilet stall. He felt Xiao Zhan’s eyes on his back long after he disappeared from the banquet hall.
He licks his lips, anticipation and arousal buzzing its way through his system with a pleasant hum. Or that could be from the champagne toast. There’s a single-use packet of lube in his pocket, and he takes it out to slick up the toy before he can think about how absurd this night is about to get.
He probably should have shucked his dress pants down before getting his hands dirty, but he makes it work with the edges of his nails tugging the zipper down and peeling the waistband of his pants just low enough. Part of him wishes Xiao Zhan could be here to watch Yibo lean against the stall wall on one elbow, feet apart, hips jutted backward to get the right angle. But then again, maybe they wouldn’t make it back before dessert is served.
The vibrator is small enough that he doesn’t need to use his fingers first. It’s a comfortable fit, and Yibo eases it in with a sigh, wishing it could be someone else, someone bigger, but he knows that’s not what tonight is about. The end of it is tapered so it won’t accidentally slip out, leaving just a small, plain bit at the very tip sticking out of him.
He straightens out, bends his knees a bit to test the comfort, and when he confirms it feels like almost nothing at all is inside him, he pulls his pants back up.
In the mirror, Yibo thinks he looks like someone carrying a very obvious secret. The reflection in his eyes shines brightly back at him, and his fingers jitter a bit when he washes his hands. Nothing left to do now but get back to the table and rejoin whatever conversation their friends have started without him. He doesn’t have to worry about taking the remote with him, because it’s already with Xiao Zhan.
Fanxing and Yu Bin are arguing about something when Yibo gets back to the table. Ji Li goads them on while Zhuocheng and Ziyi look about five seconds away from facepalming. Everyone’s salad plates have been cleared, but dinner has yet to arrive. No one other than Xiao Zhan even notices Yibo sliding back into his seat, eyes following the movement as his lips threaten a knowing smile. Yibo clears his throat and folds the napkin over his lap.
“Everything okay?” Xiao Zhan asks quietly, gently. Yibo can’t get over how good he looks in that white tux with the black-lined collar, his bangs parted to one side. If they weren’t in a crowd of people, Yibo would have him right there on the table. Dessert before dinner.
“Everything’s great,” Yibo says. Fanxing, on his other side, breaks eye contact with Yu Bin and glances toward Yibo and Xiao Zhan. Feeling their friends’ eyes on him, Yibo adds, “There’s a leather couch in there and everything.”
Suddenly, Yibo feels like it’ll be much harder to get through this now that he’s not even two feet from the next person. If he can’t keep his cool, it’s going to be written all over his face. Xiao Zhan might have overestimated his acting capabilities. Yibo just hopes the buzzing won’t be loud enough to hear when Xiao Zhan eventually flips the switch.
“Yeah, Yuchen really spared no expense with this place,” Ji Li chimes in. “You should see the cake they got, holy shit.”
“He knows Xuan Lu-jie deserves nothing but the best,” Zhuocheng contributes, then takes a gulp of champagne.
Yibo casts his glance over to the head table, where Yuchen and Xuan Lu, in her pure white ballgown-style dress, pass the same crouton back and forth between their plates, giggling. It’s really cool that they found this happiness for themselves. Yibo is grateful to have been invited, and being around the rest of the Chen Qing Ling cast brings back such fond memories. Almost like no time has passed since that summer.
Just like back then, Yibo feels a gravitational pull whenever he’s close to Xiao Zhan. He wants to touch, to tease, to scream to the world just how much he likes him.
He must be staring, because Xiao Zhan reels back from his conversation with Ziyi and smiles at Yibo.
“Need something? More champagne?” Xiao Zhan offers cheekily, already going to fill Yibo’s glass without waiting for an answer.
Not knowing when Xiao Zhan will slip a hand into his pocket to turn on the toy is going to kill Yibo. He takes the offered drink, though, because then he has an excuse not to talk. The vibrator adds just a slight, but definitely contant, pressure to his walls, and while it might not be that big, he knows he’ll feel it later.
There are so many people here. Xuan Lu has a lot of friends. Voices carry high up to the chandeliers, filling the room with noise, but that’s a good thing. The laughter and the chatting means everyone is wrapped up in whatever’s happening at their tables. Even here, Yu Bin has enough personality for everyone to keep the conversations going. It’ll go well.
Dinner comes out a few minutes later. Yibo is actually starving, but he waits until everyone has a plate before picking up a spoon to dig in. There’s a clinking of metal on glass, then a shushing sound, and the room goes quiet. Head turns toward the front when Yuchen stands from his seat, drink in hand. His cheeks are slightly pink, and that could be from the alcohol or from the fact he hasn’t stopped smiling once today.
“Before we eat,” he announces, and Yibo wants to groan. He’s going to give a speech. “I’d like to thank everyone for coming to celebrate this magnificent woman beside me…”
Yibo loves his friends, he really does, but he turns out the speech and stares longing at the plate of food in front of him. Yuchen is well-spoken, and he knows how to take his time, long pauses between sentences to leave room for all the sentiment and love. It’s so quiet in this huge room now. Yibo worries Xiao Zhan will pick now of all times to start.
He keeps his hands firmly in his lap, looking at the table with only a few glances toward Xiao Zhan, who seems as caught up in the speech as everyone else. The warm pool of arousal in Yibo’s stomach doesn’t go anywhere. Actually, Yibo feels himself warm up even more, the sheer promise of Xiao Zhan’s attentions on his body already doing it for him. He wills himself not to get hard, but his mind has only so much power over the rest of him.
The speech ends, and the room erupts in applause, loudest of all from Yuchen’s family. He’s a bit teary-eyed when he sits down again, and it’s really sweet, but the most important thing now is that Yibo can start eating.
He takes up the spoon again and has no qualms about wolfing it down, and he’s so focused on getting the food piled onto his plate that he doesn’t notice Xiao Zhan hasn’t reached for anything yet.
The vibration hits him so suddenly and so deeply that Yibo actually yelps and drops the spoon, leaving it to clatter loudly against the plate. Everyone at the table looks at him in surprise, except for Xiao Zhan, whose only reaction is to place a falsely worried hand on his back.
“Are you okay?” Xiao Zhan asks.
Yibo curls forward slightly, his shoulders drawing up. He presses his hands back into his lap and manages a nod, daring to glance at their friends. It’s so weird, seeing their faces, seeing them look at him when he has a sex toy shoved up his ass and massaging his prostate. Xiao Zhan’s hand on his back offers little comfort. It just lights him up even more. But they only just started, and Yibo won’t fail a challenge like this before even a minute is up.
“Just accidentally bit the inside of my cheek,” Yibo mutters and reaches for his glass of water.
“But you haven’t taken a bite yet,” Yu Bin says.
“Yeah,” he responds robotically and doesn’t offer anything else. His body feels hot. This suit jacket and these jeans are dark and heavy. He wishes he was naked in an ice bath, preferably with Xiao Zhan there, but thinking that just makes him heat up even more.
The good news is that Yibo can’t hear any vibrations, so it must be a pretty quiet toy. He thinks he can make it through dinner at this speed, at this pace, but he doesn’t know when Xiao Zhan plans on turning the thing off.
Their friends excuse his weirdness as just that and begin eating. Yibo throws Xiao Zhan a glance that’s meant to be threatening, but if his expression is mirrored in Xiao Zhan’s eyes, then he just looks hungry and wanting. Xiao Zhan gives him that everpresent, warm smile, then takes a bite of food.
After a long, intense sixty seconds of Yibo basically holding his breath, his body gets over the shock of the sensation. He relaxes enough to a point where he can hold eating utensils again, and things slide back into normalcy shortly after.
The main course is the longest, but it’s not entirely unpleasant. The food is delicious, and yeah, the vibrator in his ass feels really nice. He’s been sporting a semi for at least thirty minutes at this point, scooted so close to the table that the tablecloth covers him and any evidence of sexual deviance.
When their empty plates are taken away, Xiao Zhan kicks the intensity up by one. Yibo jumps in his seat, but he’s better about not being so obvious. The only one who takes notice is Xiao Zhan, who leans over and rubs his palm over Yibo’s leg under the table. Yibo grips the edge of the table as a physical restraint against melting into Xiao Zhan. His whole body thrums and pulses along with the toy inside him. Maybe the best part about this is that Xiao Zhan must be going crazy. Here is Yibo, tipsy and warm and aroused and ready for the taking, but there’s not a thing he can do about it.
“Doing okay?” Xiao Zhan asks in a low voice, but he keeps a casual tone in case any of their friends happen to hear.
Yibo hums, pressing his thigh up into Xiao Zhan’s hand.
“I’m so full.” His own voice sounds too thick. His ears are ringing, and he thinks he feels a smile pull at his lips.
“I thought you might be.” Xiao Zhan laughs and straightens out in his chair.
The touch on his leg disappears, and Yibo wants to whine at the loss of contact. Who cares if someone sees. They’re all friends here.
“Ah, my favorite people,” Xuan Lu sighs from behind them.
Yibo and Xiao Zhan both turn to look at her, and she leans down to sling an arm around each of them.
“You’ve said that to every table so far,” Yu Bin barks from across Yibo.
When Xuan Lu laughs, it’s directly in Yibo’s ear. She tugs him and Xiao Zhan close in an awkward but well-meaning double hug, tilting their heads together. She’s probably had a few drinks, but Yibo is still self-conscious of the way his fingers seem to buzz under the headiness of it all. It’s crazy, but he hopes she can’t feel it too.
“It’s been too long. I need to catch up with all of you,” Xuan Lu says as she releases her hold. “What have you been up to? Doing anything interesting lately?”
“Other than mooning over each other,” Ji Li says with a smirk.
“Still,” Ziyi adds unhelpfully.
Yibo’s cheeks feel warmer. Technically, he and Xiao Zhan aren’t out to anyone. Certain people can probably guess, and guess right, apparently. He’s not ready to have that conversation. Not now, for one very hard, insistent reason.
“Ah,” Xuan Lu clasps her hands together like she’s swooning. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you how happy I am for you two.”
Yibo is sure his face is completely red by now. He takes a gulp of champagne to pass the flush off as a byproduct of his drinking and coughs once as the fizz zips down his throat.
“I think you’ve been drinking too much, Lulu,” Xiao Zhan teases. He pivots in his chair, knees toward Yibo, so he can drape an arm over the back of the seat and chat with her.
There’s a small, rectangular dent in his pocket where he’s keeping the remote, pretty much invisible to anyone not looking for it. Yibo glares at the hidden remote like it betrayed him, though in truth he’s sure he’s never felt so electrified in his life. He can tell Xiao Zhan isn’t even hard, at least not yet, and Yibo doesn’t know if he’s disappointed or somehow even more turned on by that fact. He can sit there next to Yibo, who’s rock hard under the table and shuffling through all his fantasies about public sex as they catch up with their friends, yet he’s still so in control. It makes Yibo’s mouth water.
Being surrounded by their previous castmates calls to memory one particular wank daydream Yibo has had in which Xiao Zhan fucks him on set. It was before they had gotten together, but Yibo had thirsted after Xiao Zhan that entire summer, watching sweat carve trails in the makeup on his neck and wishing he could follow it with his tongue. There was just something about the costumes, and the unbreaking stares, and the physical and emotional closeness to Xiao Zhan that really stimulated Yibo’s imagination. More than once (twice a week at least), Yibo wanted Xiao Zhan to pull him aside between takes, hide behind a set building, and fuck him against a wall with their robes still on.
Eventually, Yibo had the privilege of learning what it was like to actually get fucked into a wall by Xiao Zhan, minus the costumes, and it exceeded all expectations.
Fantasizing about all this isn’t helping Yibo’s current predicament. The vibrating isn’t getting any easier to ignore, and with each second that passes, Yibo just wants to run back to the bathroom and let the toy bring him to completion. Maybe Xiao Zhan can follow him and coach Yibo into letting go, coach him into coming with nothing but a vibrator in his ass and Xiao Zhan’s intense, wanting eyes on him.
When Yibo hears Xuan Lu making her goodbyes, he blinks back into the present and turns to see her off. His knee bumps against Xiao Zhan’s, and the touch has him alight so easily it’s almost ridiculous.
“Congratulations again, jiejie,” he says, and he smiles back when she beams at him.
The newlyweds leave the table, and Yibo feels marginally more relaxed now that no one’s standing over him. He shoves his legs back under the table and wonders impatiently when the cake is to be cut.
Not for a while, apparently, because the lights dim, and the soft music that had been humming away in the background changes into a loud, upbeat song. Xuan Lu and Yuchen make their way to the dance floor, Xuan Lu obviously taking the lead in some cute little number that Yuchen hardly remembers the steps to.
Yibo watches them dance and finds it in his extremely distracted self to be happy for them. He claps with everyone else when the first dance ends, and the song blends into another. Guests join the couple on the dance floor, and Yibo spots Guo Cheng from the table next to them get to his feet.
“Wang Yibo!” he shouts over the music, making his way over to them. “Finally going to accept my challenge for a dance-off?”
“Wouldn’t be much of a competition.” Fanxing jabs at Guo Cheng when he’s close enough, laughing.
“Not right now.” Yibo quickly waves his hand to dismiss the idea of getting out of his chair and trying to dance with his current state of affairs.
“Since when are you one to back down from a challenge?” Guo Cheng presses, good-naturedly, a hand resting heavily on Yibo’s shoulder.
“I think I ate too much and really shouldn’t—a-ahh…!” Yibo nearly jumps out of his seat when the vibrations get even more intense. He drops his fist on the table and bows his head, his stomach curling in pleasure even as his face burns in shame.
“Holy shit,” Guo Cheng says, and he takes his hand off Yibo’s shoulder. “Are you okay, man?”
Yibo groans, drawing his shoulders up. The initial shock of the uptick in speed isn’t subsiding as quickly as it had before. It takes all his concentration not to outright moan, even though the sound that just escaped him, loudly and in front of all their friends, was probably close to incriminating him.
“Did something upset your stomach?” Xiao Zhan asks with that flawless, artificial concern. His hand returns to Yibo’s back, rubbing soothing circles over the outside of his blazer.
Yibo grasps at his way out and nods, finding the strength to lift his head. A stomach ache can explain away how he’s acting off, but it might not justify the deep blush in his cheeks. He’s grateful it’s dark in the hall with only the dancefloor lit up, but there are still more eyes on him than he’s comfortable with.
Xiao Zhan brings the back of his hand to Yibo’s forehead, and Yibo glances at him to watch a crease form between his eyebrows. His eyes are dark, though.
“You’re burning up.” Xiao Zhan lowers his hand and rubs Yibo’s thigh, right there in front of everyone. Yibo wants to crawl into Xiao Zhan’s lap and hide his face in his neck, ride out this mounting pressure, and come with Xiao Zhan’s arms around him. “I think maybe you should go to the bathroom.”
“What, do you think it’s food poisoning?” Guo Cheng asks in understandable self-concern.
Yibo shakes his head. He lifts a napkin to wipe at some sweat collecting near his temples, then strategically drops the cloth into his lap to further hide where he’s straining against the inside of his zipper.
“This has happened to me before,” Yibo says, which isn’t a lie. The last thing he needs is everyone flocking to the bathroom in fear of a stomach bug when Xiao Zhan has made it clear in his own roundabout way that he wants Yibo to leave. Probably to follow him. “It’ll go away in a minute. I’m fine.”
He’s starting to get used to the sensation, but he finds himself not wanting to ignore it anymore. He wants the toy to literally rattle an orgasm out of him, and he wants Xiao Zhan to watch his face when it does.
Guo Cheng takes the excuse and leaves with it, going back to his table to extend the dance-off throw-down to Jiyang. Yibo stays quiet until the rest of their friends at the table have turned their attention elsewhere, most prominently to where Yuchen is thoroughly embarrassing himself in front of his new wife and recently extended family.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the bathroom?” Xiao Zhan asks, low and steady. He’s leaning closer to Yibo so he can whisper it over the sound of the bumping music. Yibo wants to collapse on him.
“Just a little more and it’ll...pass,” Yibo says as thinly veiled as he cares to make it.
Xiao Zhan hesitates and wets his lips. Yibo watches the desire pooling behind his eyes, and it’s quite possibly the hottest thing he’s ever seen. What makes it all the more acute is the fact that they’re surrounded by people, and Yibo has to constantly, actively choose not to act on his instincts.
“Good,” Xiao Zhan says eventually, leaning back in his chair but keeping his hand on Yibo’s thigh. It’s a warm, steady weight, and it’s all that’s tethering Yibo to reality.
With permission, Yibo slumps back into his own chair and concentrates on the feeling in his ass. His dick throbs in tandem with the pulsing of the vibrator, it seems. When it washes over him, Yibo doesn’t fight it. He parts his lips to pant gently, hips shifting against his seat. In the moment, it feels like his legs shake a bit, and he hopes Xiao Zhan can feel it.
He watches Xiao Zhan while his orgasm takes. He has no idea what he looks like, but Xiao Zhan must love it if he’s not looking away. His fingers squeeze once around Yibo’s thigh, and he doesn’t move his hand until Yibo releases all the tension in his body with a long sigh.
His body feels like syrup in the seconds after his orgasm, and when his senses return, all he feels are the oppressive vibrations still reverberating throughout his system. Yibo scrunches up his face and whines low in his throat, covering Xiao Zhan’s hand with his own.
“Xiao Zhan, it’s still…” He won’t risk saying more with people still on either side of them.
Xiao Zhan blinks, some clarity returning to his eyes, and he nods. Reaching into his pocket, Xiao Zhan clicks the toy all the way off, and Yibo can relax for the first time in what feels like hours. It was a good few hours, though.
“Feeling okay?” Xiao Zhan asks, slowly slipping his hand out from under Yibo’s.
“Yeah,” Yibo breathes. “I think I will need to use the bathroom after all.”
He glances around. No one is looking at him, so he takes this window of opportunity to stand and slip out of the room. His erection has flagged by now, but the inside of his pants is sticky and gross with his own come. He’s lucky his jeans are dark enough to hide any stains.
Back inside the same stall from earlier, Yibo takes stock of his body and how it feels like he’s still kind of floating. He really doesn’t want to take his pants off and deal with the mess inside, but there’s no way he’s keeping the toy in him for the rest of the night.
Just as he’s unzipping, the bathroom door opens and closes. Yibo halts and listens to the footsteps as they draw closer, and Xiao Zhan’s shoes stop just outside of his stall.
Yibo unlocks and opens the door just long enough for Xiao Zhan to rush in. Xiao Zhan crowds him against the toilet and smothers him with a kiss. Yibo moans into it, fingers clutching Xiao Zhan’s lapels and leaving wrinkles in the expensive fabric. Against his hip, Yibo feels where Xiao Zhan is hard through his clothes.
“You did so good back there,” Xiao Zhan whispers. His hand slides down Yibo’s back, down into his jeans so he can trace his fingers around the part of the toy that still sticks out of him. Yibo, still sensitive everywhere and loving it, shudders.
“I thought I was going to die,” Yibo confesses. What he wants now more than anything else is to run his fingers through Xiao Zhan’s hair, mess it up beyond repair, but they do have to go back out there eventually. Just not too soon.
“Do you have any idea how badly I wanted to touch you,” Xiao Zhan marvels against his mouth. Yibo swallows his panting breaths, head dizzy with how turned on and desperate Xiao Zhan is. He fits his hand between them, palming Xiao Zhan outside his slacks. He drinks down the moan Xiao Zhan gives him too.
“God, I need—” Xiao Zhan stutters. “I need you so badly. Do you think—can you…?” He pushes at the waistband of Yibo’s pants, and Yibo gets the idea.
“Fuck, yes.” Yibo breaks the kiss to help Xiao Zhan help his pants off. He forgets his previous concern over the mess and peels them down and off his legs. Xiao Zhan carelessly drapes them over the back of the toilet, but at least they’re not on the floor of a public bathroom.
He feels Xiao Zhan prodding at the toy, fingertips working along his rim where he’s still slick with lube. The toy leaves him slowly, Xiao Zhan being gentle, and Yibo bites back a groan the entire slide out.
“So good for me,” Xiao Zhan murmurs, rearranging them to press Yibo’s back against the wall.
Yibo hums and pulls him in for another kiss. Xiao Zhan’s fingers find their way back to Yibo’s ass, two of them casually slipping inside. He gasps when he feels the phantom vibration that’s left his entire body sensitive, and he wants Xiao Zhan’s cock to provoke that kind of reaction from him.
He fumbles trying to undo the front of Xiao Zhan’s pants. He gets them pushed down just far enough and not much more, fingers tingling with the thought of being fucked by a fully clothed (immaculately dressed) Xiao Zhan.
He leans most of his weight against the wall, knees weak from his earlier orgasm and the mounting arousal that’s pumping its way through him again so soon after. He drapes his arms over Xiao Zhan’s shoulders to hold himself up.
“Xiao Zhan, my legs…” Yibo warns, voice wobbly.
“You’re shaking, baby.” Xiao Zhan runs a reverent hand up and down Yibo’s thigh, just like he did during dinner. “Shh, shh, let me hold you up.”
Xiao Zhan guides Yibo’s leg up with the hand on his thigh, bringing it to wrap around his waist. His fingers leave Yibo’s ass so he can help Yibo’s other foot off the floor. They haven’t done it like this before, and Yibo is kind of nervous suspended above the floor like this. But Xiao Zhan locks his arms under Yibo’s knees and uses the wall to support the rest of his weight. Yibo trusts him, but he still tightens his hold around Xiao Zhan’s neck.
“Mm, my strong gege,” Yibo hums blearily.
Xiao Zhan’s laugh fans across his face as he shuffles to free one hand just long enough to guide himself inside. He lets Yibo’s body lower a few inches so they can meet in the middle, and Yibo almost doesn’t notice until Xiao Zhan is fully seated, hips pinning him to the wall.
He moans gently, nails scratching in the hair at the back of Xiao Zhan’s neck. It feels good. He feels ready for Xiao Zhan like this, shaken loose from the toy and nothing but open and wet and needy.
The position makes it difficult for Xiao Zhan to have full range of motion, too busy precariously balancing Yibo on his cock. But Yibo likes it like this. They feel closer somehow, and he likes that Xiao Zhan can’t leave him easily. They’re stuck together, Yibo accepting the shallow, hard thrusts Xiao Zhan delivers in his quick search for release.
Yibo tries to keep quiet. Each echo of his voice when he moans or whines bounces around in the bathroom and reminds him they could be walked in on at any time. It’s cliche, but it’s hot to think about. Really gets him going. Before he notices, he’s gotten hard again, his cock bobbing with every subtle movement.
The toy was good, but this is better. Nothing hits home quite like Xiao Zhan can, and Yibo has fallen in love with the feel of his cock rutting against his prostate, abused as it is tonight.
Xiao Zhan huffs heavy breaths into Yibo’s neck, wearing out much more quickly than usual because of the extra strain holding Yibo up. Yibo feels his arms shake, and it’s so hot. So hot that he can get Xiao Zhan like this, drive him wild and desperate enough to push his body this far. Yibo kisses his ear, then buries his nose under his jaw.
“You’re gonna make me come again,” Yibo says before biting down on Xiao Zhan’s neck. So what if he leaves a mark. “I’m gonna get our nice clothes all dirty.”
“In the toilet,” Xiao Zhan answers gruffly.
He stops and slips out, carefully lowering Yibo back to his feet. His knees feel no stronger than they had before, but he manages to shuffle until he’s standing in front of the toilet, back to Xiao Zhan, legs spread.
A firm push bends him forward, and Yibo catches himself from falling with both hands pressed to the wall behind the toilet. He moans with his head hanging down, curling his fingers against the wallpaper. From behind, Xiao Zhan holds his hip in place and slides back in. It’s so much easier for Xiao Zhan to be rougher, faster in this position, and he follows through flawlessly. The soft material of Xiao Zhan’s pants caresses the backs of his thighs on every thrust forward.
Yibo was losing it before, but he doesn’t stand a chance when Xiao Zhan wraps a hand around his cock and pumps it in time with his thrusts. Yibo sucks in his breath violently to keep from moaning, and it’s when he hears the dribble of come drop into the toilet that he realizes he has reached the finish line for the second time tonight.
“Move forward,” Xiao Zhan orders, his voice roughened and desperate.
Yibo steps over the toilet, knees on either side of it, and Xiao Zhan follows him with the guiding hand on his hip. Yibo relishes in the last few thrusts Xiao Zhan gives him, savoring how his pliant body seems to mold around Xiao Zhan in his fucked-out looseness. It ends too soon, Xiao Zhan pulling out to jack himself to completion. Yibo watches from between his legs as Xiao Zhan releases into the toilet, clouding the water even more with his come. There’s a soft, blissful sigh from behind, and the room quiets along with their harsh breathing.
“You didn’t want to come inside?” Yibo teases. His body aches when he moves to stand upright, but it’s the good kind of ache. Always so good.
“I thought about it,” Xiao Zhan confesses with a smile. He takes a generous length of toilet paper to clean off his hands and cock, then gets another bundle to gingerly wipe Yibo off too, front and back. “Thought about using the toy to plug you up and sending you back out to dance for the rest of the night.”
“That,” Yibo pauses. That sounds amazing. “That sounds like hell.”
“Maybe next time,” Xiao Zhan says with a grin. He leans in to peck Yibo’s lips, then reaches for the latch on the door. “I brought an extra pair of pants for you. You know, in case you made a mess of things.”
“I think it’s your fault I made a mess,” Yibo jabs, but Xiao Zhan has already slipped out of the stall.
Minutes later, Yibo reenters the banquet hall with a fresh pair of jeans that look similar enough to his last pair to not rouse suspicion. Xiao Zhan isn’t at the table when he gets back, only Ji Li and Ziyi in their seats watching people lose their minds on the dancefloor.
“Where have you been?” Ji Li asks, scandalized. “You missed the cake!”
“You and Xiao Zhan both,” Ziyi says, pulling out her phone. “I took pictures of it when I saw you were AWOL.”
“We saved you some pieces,” Ji Li adds.
Yibo nods in thanks and offers no explanation for where he’s been. He trusts Xiao Zhan has made up some story to account for their joint absence.
As he’s about to sit and indulge in the fluffy yellow cake left in his spot, Xiao Zhan emerges from the dancefloor with a radiant smile. Yibo has his eyes on him, and he’s never going to take them off.
“Come dance with me,” Xiao Zhan says, dragging Yibo back out with both hands wrapped around his arm. Yibo rolls his eyes, but he smiles, and he follows Xiao Zhan to disappear in the crowd.