In Between Us || Zhanyi

|| 61 ||

"You worried because you care," Zhan added, the corners of his mouth tugging just slightly. "And if I ever make you feel like that's something to be ashamed of... then I'm the one who should be sorry."

The silence between them wasn't heavy anymore. It was warm.

Yibo's eyes softened. "You should lie down for a while," he whispered, gaze lowering shyly.

Zhan didn't move, but his fingers squeezed around Yibo's just a bit.

Yibo shifted slightly, eyes fluttering toward everywhere but Zhan.
"I'll bring the tea..." he whispered, almost as an escape route—too many emotions pressing into him, making the room feel smaller than it was.

He tried to rise.

But he didn't get far.

A strong hand caught his wrist and gently—but firmly—pulled him back.

Yibo stumbled a bit and landed right onto the bed again with a soft thump.
Before he could comprehend anything further, Zhan was over him—caging him in with one arm beside his head, the other still holding his wrist. His figure cast a commanding shadow, his face just inches from Yibo's.

"Did you forget," Zhan asked, voice low and pointed, "what I told you a few minutes ago?"

Yibo blinked, his breath caught halfway in his throat.

Zhan's earlier words echoed in his mind like a warning laced with heat.
'You're not allowed to leave this bed without my permission. You're not allowed in the kitchen either. And if you disobey... I have my ways of making sure you stay exactly where I want you.'

The flush hit Yibo's ears before he even realized he was nodding.

Zhan raised a brow.

"Words," he reminded.

Yibo gulped, eyes lowered, stammered out, "N-Not allowed in the kitchen... not allowed to leave the bed without permission..."

Zhan's expression remained neutral, but there was amusement flickering behind those stern professor-like eyes.

"And?" Zhan pressed again, voice dropping just a touch more, his body weighing heavy on Yibo.

Yibo's blush deepened to something almost painful. The memory of that playful—yet shocking—spank from earlier surfaced instantly. His lips parted, but no words came for a second.

Zhan waited. Eyes memorising every expression Yibo was making. The hue, the nervousness, the shyness, the innocence............everything about Yibo only melts Zhan more and more.

Yibo finally whispered, "You... have your ways to make me stay..."

That earned a soft exhale from Zhan, warm and slow, his breath fanning against Yibo's cheek.

Yibo squeezed his eyes shut, heart thudding like it had a mind of its own. He expected a kiss. Maybe another teasing threat. Anything.

Instead, Zhan leaned closer, brushing his lips just beside Yibo's ear, and murmured with a quiet, velvet rasp—
"Good boy."

Yibo shivered.

"Now stay here," Zhan added, and just like that, the warmth of his body moved away.

Yibo opened his eyes, breath catching in his throat as he stared at the ceiling, heart pounding like a thousand drums in his chest.

As the warmth of Zhan's body retreated from above him, Yibo lay still—exactly where he was told.

His fingers curled lightly into the sheets, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that was anything but steady. Eyes wide open now, staring at the ceiling, he tried to calm the riot inside him. But it wasn't fear this time. It wasn't even confusion.