Silence is beautiful, yet most indefinite. It may be the peace of the dead of the night. Or the beginning of a storm.
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Warning: Mature content
Lan Zhan
"Lan Zhan?" Wei Ying says from his chair as soon as I enter his office. "What are you doing here?"
"I was supposed to pick you up." I close the door behind me.
"Shit, I forgot." He mumbles. "Sorry. Did you wait long?"
"No," I reply, walking to him. "I couldn't reach you for a while."
He reaches for his phone and pushes the button. "Dead," he says. Casting it aside, he kicks his chair back and rushes to me to haul me into a hug.
"You said you wanted to talk to me." I run my fingers through his hair. "I didn't see your message."
Wei Ying stiffens. "It's nothing," he says. "I had . . . lunch plans. Just wanted to check if you can join."
I pull back, tilt his chin up. Our gazes meet, but he looks away a bit too quickly and starts chewing on his lip. I reach out and make him release it with my thumb. "Are you—"
Suddenly my hand is moved away, and I'm stopped by a fierce swirl of lips and tongue and kisses, and their demanding and unwavering effect. I barely register it when Wei Ying hooks his finger on my necktie and loosens it.
"I need a favor," he says, out of breath, right next to my ear. He has his eyes closed. When he presses his forehead to my chin, I couldn't help but feel that he doesn't want me to look into them.
"What is it?" I ask.
He opens his eyes, and now they're gazing at mine, coaxing silently and desperately. In a low dark voice, he says nothing but two words. "Fuck me."
I would've lost it then and there if I hadn't forced myself to ask, "Now?" trying to find if he really meant it.
"Yeah." He averts his gaze again, his enthusiasm visibly reduces. He was expecting me to refuse.
He's just about to turn away when I turn his face towards me and press a kiss on his lips. It only takes an instant to be turned into an all-consuming, tongue-twirling one. Whatever it is, Wei Ying had run out of his patience.
I trace back the path here. This floor was empty, and there were only a few workers downstairs. Wei Ying breaks the kiss and goes over to lock the door; I suppose it's safe.
His eyes roam over my body with each step he takes towards me, and when I'm in the reach of his arms he pulls my necktie off, the other hand cradles my nape. I could only watch him spellbound; he had all my strings dancing between his fingers. Our lips are connected again as his hands travel down to the zip of my pants; I pull back with the grunt that escaped my mouth when he starts working his hand. Caressing my shirt away, he finds a spot on my collarbone and kisses and kisses, strikes his teeth and he brings me to the brink with those sinful fingers.
Taking my hand he sucks two fingers to his mouth, his eyes eagerly burn as he observes me. Unable to take it, I unbuckle his belt letting my fingers find their way through his spine, the hem of his shirt, the elastic of his underwear; Wei Ying flinches, grabbing my shoulder with a soft moan. He presses his body to mine, sighing.
"Turn around," I tell him and he shudders.
He complies, putting his arms over his desk. Lifting his shirt up, I run my fingers on the soft bumps pocking out of his spinal cord. But Wei Ying pushes back, grinding his back against me. He grabs the roots of my hair at the back of my neck and pulls my face close to his tilted one, crushing our lips together.
"Hurry," he murmurs onto the corner of my mouth.
Once again, there's a question at the tip of my tongue, but I decide against it. He won't answer.
I spread him open, to which he gasps, and I tease his entrance to lubricate and push into the white-hot bliss. His tightness, his arched back, his head that's thrown over my shoulder, his sweet voice, his warmth . . . this shouldn't be human. I could swear I get a glimpse of heaven every time I feel him this close to me.
"Lan Zhan," Wei Ying whispers, eyes closed, mouth agape. "Hurry, just . . ."
I push his torso to his desk and take him apart just like he wanted me to, with the practiced precision, accompanying him into a chant of my name, watching his detailed expressions of bliss, of agony. Bending down, I kiss his shoulder where his shirt had come off, lacing his fingers to mine. I press my nose to his jaw. "I love you," I murmur.
He replies with my name in a whisper.
When I stand back up, he's staring at our interlocked fingers, so longingly as if he doesn't know that they already belong to each other.
So I hold on to it. I could say that there was something wrong and that he was not going to tell me. I've learned that forcing him to open up will only push him away from me. That reckless little things like this are the strings that bind him to being himself. So I let him have what he wants.
Wei Ying comes down, shivering and gasping, seeing him in that honest and vulnerable way, I don't last a second long.
I pull him up and sit on the chair with him on my lap. Wei Ying is quiet. The room is quiet. The silence was only broken by the sound of our breath.
***
In the soft drizzle of the rain that accompanied the chill of the morning, I place a kiss on Wei Ying's hair, who was drooling on me, comfortably asleep. I can see why he loved days like this. The somber light, the earthly smell, the mixture of the breeze and his warmth; it's all refreshing. After the exhausting week both of us had, no other sort of a weekend would have done us better. I might as well agree if he wants to spend the day in bed.
With a deep breath, Wei Ying stretches his limbs, and rolls over, pressing his forehead to my chest. I hold him close, running my fingers through his hair. He lets out a sigh, throwing one arm over my side.
"Good morning." he hoarsely says, rubbing my shoulder.
"Good morning."
"Is it raining?" He's speaking in sleepy syllables muffled by my chest. It almost makes me chuckle as always.
"Mn. Looks like it will rain for a while."
"Really?" he yawns. "I'm gonna go see Cheng today."
I sigh inwardly. I'd be lying if I say I wasn't disappointed. "Do you want me to come?"
"Nah. I'll go alone. I just want to check on him. He's . . . not himself lately."
Neither are you, I almost say.
Wei Ying moves up on his pillow, leaning in to place a kiss on my lips. He lies his face just a few inches away from mine. "Hello," he chuckles, his lips stretching into a sweet smile.
He's radiant. Just in the way how sun flows through raindrops. Just in the way it reflects on the soft waves of the deep ocean. I wouldn't be surprised for a second if I wake up to find a halo around him one day. But today, there's an exhaustion in his eyes. "Did you sleep well?" I ask.
"Fairly," he replies. "Why wouldn't I when you hold me through the night?" he chuckles.
Then why do you look so tired? That was my question, but before I could word, I suppose he sensed it because he presses his lips to mine the way he does whenever he wants to avoid a conversation. Propping up on a hand, he moves down to my neck. "Wei Ying?"
"Hm?" With his lips still working on my neck, he pushes his naked torso against mine and throws his leg over my hip drawing our bodies close, too close. His hand travels down my back and squeezes at the bottom. He rolls us over, getting on top of me.
I'm already losing control when I manage to blurt out, "Again?" He had been this way since the day at his office.
"Why? Are you tired?"
"You'll hurt yourself."
"I'll be fine." He moves his hips, making some involuntary noises escape both of us.
"Wei Ying!"
He stops; silently watches me as I sit up; melts when I reach for his face. I stroke my thumb against the corner of his eyes. "What's wrong, Wei Ying? Talk to me."
His smile vanishes. He clenches his jaws. He's looking at me as if he's just about to cry.
Wrapping my shoulder in his arms, he presses his forehead to the side of my neck. I feel him take a long, unsteady breath. "Nothing's wrong, Lan Zhan. What makes you think so?" he murmurs. "I don't do it for you anymore? Is that it?" he asks, with a weary chuckle.
"Both of us know that it's not possible."
He pulls away taking my face in both his hands. "I'm fine. Really."
I've lost the count of times I received that answer. I sigh and lean in, taking his mouth. He eases with the gesture. I think I'll let it slide this time too.
He pushes me behind, my head hits the pillow. "I'm okay," he murmurs again, tracing ghostly fingertips over my abdomen. "Focus here?"
He wins. He wins every time.
But in all the intensity, even in Wei Ying's warmth, I didn't understand why I couldn't ease off from feeling that beneath it all, something was silently breaking.
Extra:
Something like an extra chapter for today.
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Till next time...