Still recovering from an unexpected tragedy, single dad Wang Yibo isn't sure he's ready to move on - until he meets Xiao Zhan in a bar at Christmas. When what was meant to be a simple one-off encounter becomes more complicated, will Yibo have the st...
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YIBO WOKE STUPEFIED and sticky-tongued, balanced with perilous precision on the edge of an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room with an arm that seemed remarkably at home thrown over his waist. He blinked away grit and last night's beer, waited for the taste of regret to spring sharp at the back of his throat. There was a tiny Christmas tree in Zhan's living room, four bulb-tipped branches peeking shyly around the edge of the bedroom door. The regret didn't arrive.
Zhan stirred, murmured a groan and drew him infinitesimally closer. His sheets smelled of cotton and fabric softener and warm, sweet skin, the kind of smell Yibo could sink into. He pressed back into the lines of Zhan, the unfamiliar familiarity of a someone else in bed with him, the hard curve of morning wood that reflected his own nudged easily wanting into the small of his back.
"Mmm, morning,"
Zhan whispered, his cock pressed thick with promise to the crease of Yibo's ass.
"Sleep well?"
Yibo was sure the awkwardness would split him apart at any moment, that the warm trickle of relaxed-happy-content would be fractured by the icy sense of disloyalty creeping its way along his spine. It was hard to feel anything but blissful. He nodded as Zhan urged him onto his back to begin a leisurely exploration of his mouth, as his hand snaked to the hard throb of Yibo's cock, twitching interest between his legs. He lost himself in nothing but sensation, in damp heat and smooth warmth and filth whispered into his ear from lips drenched in need.
He stretched up, touched his fingertips to the headboard as Zhan groaned approval into his throat, he arched his narrow hips and begged with words he thought he'd forgotten for things he imagined he'd never have. Lips brushed with feathered touch against his collarbone, tongue scoring the ink there with more heat than seemed entirely feasible, trailing lower and down as he bucked and groaned but -
"I have kids!"
Yibo gasped as Zhan wrapped his lips around the tight bud of his nipple. Zhan paused, eyebrows raised, mouth still lush against skin in a flush of a pout.
"I - I have kids."
Zhan sighed through his smile as he raised his head slowly, as he shook his head and traced a fingertip lightly over the two moles between Yibo's shoulder. He paused to press a soft kiss to Yibo's jaw, to trail his lips over his earlobe, catching it in a teasing bite as he whispered,
"I like kids."
"I'm a single dad,"
Yibo continued, hating himself for not just enjoying the moment, for failing to simply savour the soft mouth of a pretty guy.
"It's just me. And them. No mom."
"I like you,"
Zhan murmured.
"Listen, we can totally be a one-night thing if that's what you want. But... I like you, and I mean it, I really do like kids. So, when do you have to pick them up?"
