Guardian Fic: The Black Lotus Club

[kat_lair]

***

This has been posted a while ago on AO3 but having it here for posterity too.

Title: The Black Lotus Club
Author: kat_lair / Mistress Kat
Fandom: Guardian
Pairing: Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan
Rating: NC-17

Warnings/enticements: d/s, power dynamics, manhandling
Word count: 16,965
Disclaimer: Not mine, only playing

Summary: Shen Wei understood power. It was, he thought, why he was here. Why Zhao Yunlan had asked him. Because he understood power, not just as some abstract concept, but concretely, intimately, the heavy cloak of it a familiar weight he’d carried for centuries. Shen Wei knew how to wield it, like a weapon, like a caress, and he knew how easy it was for that use to turn to abuse.

Tonight, Zhao Yunlan needed him to wield that power on his behalf. And that was the easiest thing of all. The easiest and the most dangerous.

Author notes: Well folks, it was only a matter of time before I started writing in this fandom, and the 520 Day Reverse Exchange over at sid_guardian was the perfect excuse. And lo and behold my recipient turned out to be someone I knew from way back from different fandoms, and yantantether’s prompts reminded me anew why we jammed in the same circles to begin with :D SW manhandling ZYL who’s super into it? Tick. Competency kink? Tick. SW dressed up? Tick, tick! Undercover in BDSM club, flirting, culminating in desperate sex? Tickety-boom bae, TICKETY-BOOM! This was supposed to be maybe about 5k, but the boys would just. Not. Stop. Emoting. Eternal gratitude for bonibaru for excellent and speedy beta work and help with some plot points, and to , pushkin666 and dreamersdare for cheerleading.

Zhao Yunlan was a desperate man. Not generally – although since meeting a certain Black Cloaked Professor, that had become a disturbingly common state of being – but right at this particular moment he was at the end of his rope.

“The Black Lotus Club?” he asked for the third time. Even he could hear the slight crack in his voice.

“Are you going deaf or doubting the accuracy of my work?” Zhu Hong crossed her arms, looking annoyed.

“I checked the intelligence,” Lin Jing added, getting a punch on the arm from Zhu Hong for his support.

“Ow.” He rubbed his bicep distractedly. “It’s a nightclub with… an alternative slant.”

Zhao Yunlan breathed in slowly through his nose, and out again, trying to think of cherry blossoms falling in a breeze, a gently burbling mountain creek, and other calming things except what his mouth was actually about to commit to.

“Yes,” it said, “I know the place. I’ll go in.”

Then he laughed. There was a distinctly hysterical tinge to it.


***

Here is what Zhao Yunlan knew about the Black Lotus Club:

1. It was situated in a surprisingly upmarket end of town.
2. It absolutely had an ‘alternative slant’, as Lin Jing had so delicately put it. In practice, it meant the club played the kind of music you didn’t find on the radio’s Top Ten lists, and attracted a clientele that played fast and loose with conventional forms of relationships and gender expressions. And that was just on the ground floor.
3. What most people didn’t know (but Zhao Yunlan did, very well) was that the club also had a basement. It was an invitation only area and catered to patrons who preferred their interactions with added… How should he phrase it? Power exchange. Yes. That described about 10% of it.

Here is how Zhao Yunlan knew about the Black Lotus Club:

1. He used to work there.
2. On both floors, in case you were wondering.
3. It was an educational summer.

***

This wasn’t the kind of case SID usually would get involved in. Indeed, all the intelligence the police department had passed on about the main suspect suggested that Sun Lei was nothing more than a well-connected human. His drugs, however, were not of Haixing origin. And when magic mixed with chemicals, the effects were… Unpredictable to the highest degree. Street named ‘sakura’ for its delicate pink colour and ability to make a person feel as carefree as a spring blossom, the new drug hitting the Dragon City clubbing scene was highly addictive. Worst of all, long-term users tended to develop abilities that humans weren’t meant to have, and had no skill in controlling.

And that? That made it SID’s problem, and by extension Zhao Yunlan’s current headache.

He was a law enforcement officer. Sworn to protect and serve (ha!) and if that meant going to Dragon City’s most exclusive BDSM club and asking for his old job back in order to catch a drug-dealer then that’s just what he was going to do.

It also meant protecting his team from the full details of the operation because… Just… No. Guo Changcheng would probably combust on the spot if he so much as stepped a pinkie toe into a place like the Black Lotus Club and then Chu Shuzhi would gut Zhao Yunlan alive and that would just be sad.

This was easier than being gutted alive. Perhaps by a narrow margin, but still.

“I don’t like it,” Da Qing said from where he was sitting on top of the table.

Zhu Hong was nodding, while Chu Shuzhi regarded him with narrowed eyes, clearly aware that something was up.

“Look,” Zhao Yunlan said in his most reasonable voice, “I used to bartend there before joining the force. I’ve got connections. But it’s not the kind of establishment that would allow SID to set up surveillance equipment in every corner. It’s either a low key, in and out with minimum fuss, kind of operation or it’s no operation at all.”

“You need back up though,” Chu Shuzhi said. It was not a suggestion.

And okay, okay, Lao Chu could pull this off but not with any kind of subtlety or discretion or… class. Which was what was needed here.

“I’ll get it,” Zhao Yunlan promised.

Chu Shuzhi stared at him silently for a few seconds. Then suddenly both of his eyebrows hiked up and he barked a laugh, having clearly reached the same logical conclusion as Zhao Yunlan himself about who the best person to take with him would be.

Logical or not, it was probably going to break Zhao Yunlan’s already weak grip on sanity.


***

Make that ‘definitely’, he thought a few hours later, having finally gathered his nerve to knock on Shen Wei’s apartment door.

Currently, the man himself was busily preparing tea and a tray of snacks like he was practicing from the ‘Host With The Most’ chapter of his ‘Human Like a Pro: Guide for the Discerning Dixing-ren’ textbook, while Zhao Yunlan was trying not to fidget right out of his skin on the sofa.

On the surface, softly spoken Shen Wei was the worst, the most illogical choice to take with him to an undercover operation at a high-class BDSM club. He was all careful words and shy smiles and clothes which, whilst well-tailored, weren’t exactly fashionable. Everything he projected was the perfect image of a dedicated Professor, largely because it wasn’t an image, not really. This really was Shen Wei, someone perfectly content among books and adoring students and intellectual pursuits.

It just wasn’t all that he was.

“Chief Zhao, what is on your mind?” Shen Wei asked, pouring the tea and arranging the slices of water chestnut cake just so for maximum aesthetic impact.

His words were formal, but there was worry lurking in the corner of his eyes. Worry, and absolute willingness to throw down the entire, not inconsiderable, clout of Hei Pao Shi and probably half of the Dixing-ren who followed the Lord Black Cloaked Envoy’s command, all on behalf of Zhao Yunlan and the SID team.

He was pretty sure that if he looked hard enough, he could see the air near Shen Wei’s right hand shimmer in a distinctively blade-shaped way.

It was a little exhilarating.

Okay, who was he kidding? It was hot as fuck. It made Zhao Yunlan want to fling himself at danger just to see the ruthless way Shen Wei pulled him right out of it. It made him want to push and poke and needle and get under the man’s cloak and skin, into the very mind-heart-soul of him. It made his mouth water until he ached to stuff his own fingers inside it, just to fill the emptiness, to feel something, anything in the absence of…

Carefully, Zhao Yunlan raised a teacup to his lips and took a sip. Then another. He was mildly impressed to notice that his hands weren’t shaking even a little bit. Maybe there was some truth to the numbing effect of prolonged exposure, he thought distantly.

Something the patrons of the Black Lotus Club wouldn’t have the benefit of. Zhao Yunlan would almost feel sorry for them, if the situation wasn’t working to his benefit. It was the unlikely combination of unassuming professor and ruthless enforcer of otherworldly rules, the juxtaposition of qualities seemingly at odds with each other and yet not, that made Shen Wei the perfect choice for the case.

Shen Wei was a cultured, respected, and relatively well-to-do intellectual. Shen Wei was a Lord of Dixing with power and experience beyond anything Zhao Yunlan had ever seen before, and the skills to use it. Shen Wei was tying up Zhao Yunlan in knots like no one else.

She Wei was… very close and talking to him?

“Uh… I’m sorry? What did you say?” Now the tea sloshed over the rim as Zhao Yunlan hastily lowered the cup.

“Zhao Yunlan?” Formality of titles forgotten, Shen Wei’s voice was now borderline frantic as he repeated Zhao Yunlan’s name. “What has happened?” His hand was a warm, solid pressure between Zhao Yunlan’s shoulder blades.

“There’s a case,” Zhao Yunlan said, leaning subtly away. There was no way he was going to get through the explanation if Shen Wei was touching him. “I need your help.”


***


Shen Wei listened attentively as Zhao Yunlan outlined the SID’s current case, forcing himself to focus on the words and their meaning and not in the way Zhao Yunlan’s eyes didn’t quite meet his when he explained about his previous employment.

“You were a… bartender?” Shen Wei asked, half surprised, half delighted, which was a pretty standard reaction when it came to Zhao Yunlan.

“No need to sound so disbelieving!” Zhao Yunlan wagged a finger at him in mock chastisement, his normal manner returning momentarily. “Those rows and rows of liqueur bottles at my place aren’t there just for show. Or self-consumption,” he added hastily.

Well. Zhao Yunlan had certainly never offered to make a cocktail for Shen Wei, and the idea that he entertained others in this manner grated. But Shen Wei knew the reason for that lay only with himself, who he was, how he was.

“I would never assume that,” he said, aiming for reassuring but only managing to sound stiff and pompous instead. Shen Wei resisted the urge to tighten his grip on the teacup out of fear of breaking it, but the frustration at himself made him tense. Why was it so difficult to just talk to Zhao Yunlan now, here, when it had been so easy once…

“Dixing drugs… It is rare but not unheard of.” Shen Wei said, trying to anchor himself in the present. “There are some… enquiries I can make.” By ‘enquiries’ he meant ‘pay a threatening visit to anyone he could think of until something caved’ and judging by the smirk on Zhao Yunlan’s face, he knew it.

“But there is no indication that this Sun Lei is Dixing-ren,” Shen Wei continued, still a bit puzzled. “I am not sure why you need me for this stage of the investigation. Although,” he hastened to add, “of course I will come.”

Zhao Yunlan looked both relieved and uneasy at the same time. “Thank you,” he said, reaching out and briefly squeezing Shen Wei’s hand. “But don’t promise until you have seen the place for yourself.”

“What do you mean?” Shen Wei moved his hands closer to his body, like he could trap Zhao Yunlan’s heat there if he tried hard enough. They were still sitting on the sofa, tea cooling on the table, and he was acutely aware of the distance between their bent knees, could have estimated it to the last millimetre if someone asked.

Luckily, no one did.

Zhao Yunlan glanced at his watch. “The Black Lotus Club should be open by now. Why don’t you…” He twirled a hand at Shen Wei in a way that presumably meant something along the lines of ‘hop on that interdimensional highway of yours’, “… you know, and have a look. If you don’t know the answer to your question after that, then… Well, maybe I’ll give Chu Shuzhi a call after all.”

“I…” It was unusual of Zhao Yunlan to be this circumspect about a case, but it was a request easily granted, unlike too many others.

Shen Wei got to his feet, taking a few steps back from the sofa. “I’ll be right back,” he said, extending his palm and loosening the tight control he kept on his powers. Within seconds, the portal opened, and the last thing he saw before stepping through was Zhao Yunlan’s expression, a curious mixture of hunger and resignation warring on his face

***


He wasn’t stupid enough to try and materialise inside the club, that sort of thing tended to draw attention even on the busiest dancefloors. Instead, Shen Wei stepped out of the portal in a back alley a few blocks away. He was back in his earlier outfit of dove grey trousers and vest, and white shirt, sleeves rolled up and held in place by the garters around his biceps. It wasn’t exactly clubbing gear, but to his relief Shen Wei noticed he wasn’t the only one looking like they were on their way to a business meeting. Although the majority of outfits were decidedly… darker, and more revealing. If not for its head-to-toe coverage, his black cloak would’ve actually been a more suitable choice. Then again, if there were any Dixing-ren in the place, it wouldn’t offer much in terms of anonymity.

Getting inside was not difficult, but once there Shen Wei still could not see what it was about this club that needed him as opposed to any other member of the SID. He leaned against the bar, ordering a soft drink and watching people grind against each other to the music – if you could call it that – drinking, talking and generally enjoying themselves. The clientele was clearly moneyed and, well, not exactly conventional – Shen Wei tried not to stare when he saw two young men openly kissing on the dancefloor, their hips never losing their sinuous rhythm.

Sure, mingling with the upper echelons of the society, even the ones using their privilege to flaunt all unspoken rules, was a thing Shen Wei could do. And maybe it was a thing he could do better than the other members of the SID, but that still didn’t explain Zhao Yunlan’s odd reluctance about the whole thing, both clearly wanting Shen Wei’s help but not very happy about it.

Shen Wei gave the room another slow onceover, trying to see beyond the obvious.

There. A corridor he’d assumed led to the toilets or the staff areas had a higher number of people going in than there were leaving, enough to be suspicious.

Shen Wei finished his drink and slowly circled over, slipping behind a couple, the man in high heels and the woman holding a coiled length of leather which she paused to attach to…

Shen Wei blinked. That was a leash. Attached to a collar that the man was wearing, quite happily so judging from the soft way he was smiling at his… partner? Mistress?

A thought flickered at the back of his mind, a premonition of sorts, one that set off several alarms and made sweat break out at his hairline. Shen Wei swallowed, wresting control back and forcing his body to relax, to project confidence and belonging and not the impending collapse of all his carefully erected walls.

At the end of the corridor, the couple stopped in front of a large door, and the large bouncer standing by it. He clearly recognised them, waving them through with a nod, but halted Shen Wei with an arm like a tree trunk.

“This area is by invitation only, xiānsheng.” The words and the tone were polite but the man saying them was immovable as a mountain.

Well, at least by anything except another, bigger mountain.

Shen Wei wrapped his hand around the swirling power that was always there, waiting for him, and directed a thin tendril of it toward the bouncer, slow and gentle.

“If you look again, I think you will find that I am, indeed, invited.”

The man blinked, frowned, and blinked again. Then he took a hasty step back. “My apologies,” he said, bowing low. “Please enter.”

The door swung open. Shen Wei stepped through and down a spiral staircase.



***


Zhao Yunlan paced back and forth in his apartment. He could’ve stayed at Shen Wei’s place – the professor hadn’t asked him to leave after all – but the temptation to snoop would’ve been too much so he’d made an executive decision to remove himself. He was fully aware of the irony, given the trouble he and Da Qing had gone through to get access to Shen Wei’s apartment for that exact purpose. But that was before Zhao Yunlan knew who his new neighbour, consultant and maybe-something-else-he-was-definitely-not-thinking-about, was. Before Shen Wei had sacrificed something immeasurable to get Zhao Yunlan’s sight back, before he’d stepped into the way of his gun with nothing but trust and something deeper than that in his eyes.

Before Zhao Yunlan realised that it wasn’t his questions that Shen Wei was avoiding, that it wasn’t Zhao Yunlan’s insistent need to know that seemed to pain him like a beast clawing at his heart. Shen Wei wasn’t angry that Zhao Yunlan was asking, he was hurt only by his own inability to answer.

Tonight, Zhao Yunlan had wanted nothing more than to tear through every scrap of paper, every single drawer at Shen Wei’s home in hopes of finding something, anything to give him hope that this waiting, this knowing but not really knowing, was worth it. Instead, he was walking the path between his bed and sofa and kitchen and front door over and over again.

Shen Wei had been gone for almost two hours. The night had most definitely descended and Zhao Yunlan’s memory provided him with a collage of images from his time at the Black Lotus Club, where things would be in full swing by now. Both metaphorically and, in some cases, quite literally.

Zhao Yunlan glanced at the clock and changed directions, repeating his circuit in a different order. Not that it did a lot to reduce his growing anxiety.

This was a disaster. What had he been thinking, sending Hei Pao Shi to a BDSM club with a heavily hinted ‘you’ll fit in there just fine’? He knew he was less than reverential about Shen Wei’s position but this must have crossed every line. At best Zhao Yunlan was going to be dragged to Dixing and thrown into the stocks. At worst…

At worst, Shen Wei would realise exactly where Zhao Yunlan’s thoughts had strayed.

The kitchen island was covered in several colourful cocktails. Stress mixing probably wasn’t a real thing but Zhao Yunlan had figured he might as well see if he still remembered the basics. He was just considering throwing back the toxic green Delta Heat when there was a knock on his door.

“Come in,” he called out, turning around but not moving otherwise. His grip on the table edge tightened when Shen Wei entered his apartment.

He was clad in the cloak and the mask, presumably having donned them for his return journey, and seemed to notice the incongruity of it at the same time as Zhao Yunlan did. With an almost sheepish wave of his hand, the outfit vanished, replaced by the ‘never mind me, just a harmless professor’ suit Shen Wei had been wearing earlier.

If Zhao Yunlan had expected this would make things easier, he’d been sorely mistaken. Because now Shen Wei’s whole face was there, bare of the hood and the mask, and there was nowhere else to look except right at him and Zhao Yunlan should really say something now, right?

Before he managed to formulate a question that wasn’t ‘how much do you hate me now?’ it somehow got even worse.

Shen Wei took off his glasses.

Zhao Yunlan bit back a sob and clamped his teeth around his tongue in an effort to keep silent.

Shen Wei rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly before letting his hand drop. His eyes, unshielded and dark like a starless night sky, met Zhao Yunlan’s across the room. The distance between them seemed to narrow to nothing even though neither of them moved.

“I understand,” Shen Wei said. For a split second, his expression crumbled into something Zhao Yunlan had no chance to interpret before it smoothed back. “I will be there.”

Zhao Yunlan nodded. He didn’t ask any of the questions clamouring in his mind. He was afraid that this time Shen Wei would answer. “Thank you,” he said instead, voice steady and even. He’d always been an excellent liar.


***


It would be wrong to say Shen Wei was nervous. It would also be wrong to say Shen Wei was not nervous.

He was simply… invested. In ensuring the success of the operation, in not letting Zhao Yunlan down on this night or ever; in Zhao Yunlan, his happiness and wellbeing and continued presence in Shen Wei’s life.

Somehow, right now, all of that seemed to depend on Shen Wei choosing the right outfit for the occasion. He could get away with one of his suits of course but that felt like a cop out. Shen Wei knew now why Zhao Yunlan had sent him to see the club for himself. He’d needed Shen Wei to understand, had asked for him specifically, because he trusted Shen Wei to play the part that was needed, to not just fit among the patrons but to draw enough attention to allow Zhao Yunlan to gather the evidence needed to catch Sun Lei, and those hiding behind him, for good.

In fact, Zhao Yunlan had trusted Shen Wei with everything the Black Lotus Club implied. Shen Wei was not about to disappoint.

No, a simple suit would not do. At all.


***


It was weird, and somehow disconcertingly easy, to slip back into his old role of taking orders and mixing drinks behind the bar at The Black Lotus Club again. Whilst Zhao Yunlan hadn’t exactly made bosom buddies at the place, some of the staff still remembered him, and some of them had now worked their way up to management positions. More importantly, they too wanted Sun Lei dealt with. He was a regular, using the club’s exclusivity and high level of privacy as a convenient cover for some illegal narcotics trade. It was bad for business, especially once the patrons succumbed to the addiction and started leaking new and highly volatile supernatural abilities everywhere. It was not the kind of mix you wanted in any club, much less a BDSM one.

Zhao Yunlan’s plan was the perfect solution, especially as it came with a guarantee of zero publicity. With that – and a quick demonstration that he could still shake a mean martini – it had been easy enough to get his old job back.

So, for the last week Zhao Yunlan had been donning his skinniest jeans and scruffiest boots. From the back of the wardrobe, he’d fished out an old t-shirt that was tight and thin enough that he’d clutched his jacket to his chest all the way to the club to avoid being arrested for public indecency. The first night he’d looked at himself in the mirror and a younger, angrier Zhao Yunlan had stared back, all smudged eyeliner and authority issues, a thin veneer for anxiety and uncertainty underneath. It had been like going back in time and he’d had to shake himself hard, fingers clenched around his badge, to remember that he was no longer that person.

At least, not wholly.

The mask of it was easy to recall though, to pull on like that old, familiar shirt, a bit tight and uncomfortable now but still one he knew how to wear. Here, it made him just one of the disenchanted and mostly transient staff, pouring alcohol, taking money, flirting with everyone for tips.

Unlike cocktail mixing, that was one skill he’d only honed since leaving The Black Lotus Club. It paid off now, both literally as generous tips and metaphorically by way of information.

So, while Hei Pao Shi was out rattling terrified Dixing-ren, Zhao Yunlan kept his ears open and his smile wide behind the bar. It was amazing what you could learn between exchanging money for colourful cocktails, many of them virgin ones as alcohol didn’t mix well with the kind of play the patrons indulged in, which was another reason why the management were keen to get Sun Lei’s drugs off the premises.

He had what he needed within a few days, including positive identification of Sun Lei. The man considered himself above actually chatting with the bar staff but he did talk a lot at the bar, enough for circumstantial evidence at least for someone who knew what they were listening to. He wasn’t arrogant enough to actually peddle his wares out in the open, but a place like this had plenty of backrooms and private areas available, to say nothing of the toilets which were of course the time-honoured setting for such deals.

A few nights of tracking his movements in between pouring drinks revealed a pattern that was carefully designed to look completely random but wasn’t, not really.

This was key. One of the problems for catching Sun Lei was that despite the regular spot searches conducted by the club security, the man was never found entering the establishment with the drugs on him. Which meant that he was getting them from someone else either already inside and exempt from checks, i.e. staff, or there was some way he got delivery from someone from the outside. Whilst in a basement. Of an exclusive, invitation only club.

If he didn’t already know that the drugs were of Dixing origin, this would have been a honking big clue.

They could bust Sun Lei for selling drugs easily enough with minimum fuss, but Zhao Yunlan didn’t just want to catch the rat, he wanted to plug the hole through which it wiggled in. They needed the accomplice, and ideally, whoever was behind it all.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like Shen Wei was getting anywhere with his end of the investigation. All his sources were unusually tight-lipped, which did not put the Black Cloaked Envoy in the best of moods.

In fact, when he interrupted Zhao Yunlan’s late afternoon jog three days into the operation, the scowl on his face was downright terrifying.

Zhao Yunlan was leaning on a lamp post a few blocks from his apartment building, catching his breath, stretching his calves and idly thinking just how mean it would be to get Guo Changcheng to shadow Zhu Hong for a week to teach them both some new skills. Suddenly, the sky grew dark, air pressure increasing to a point of discomfort, until releasing with an almost audible pop. The Black Cloaked Envoy stepped out of the alleyway, staff and all, grabbed Zhao Yunlan by the front of his sweat shirt and dragged him in.

He was startled enough to yelp, tripping over his own feet in an effort to remain standing, which would have failed if not for the iron hard grip on his arm. It would definitely leave bruises.

Zhao Yunlan propped himself against a brick wall and tried not to whine when Shen Wei released his hold.

“Well this is subtle,” Zhao Yunlan said after clearing his throat. “Much better than, say, meeting at either of our homes. Or offices. Or, I don’t know, calling?”

“I needed to talk to you,” the Envoy intoned, the sarcasm going entirely unacknowledged, perhaps even unnoticed.

The eyes behind the mask were burning with fury, born out of frustration Zhao Yunlan guessed.

“No clues then, I take it?” he asked, sympathetic.

“No one knows anything. Or at least, no one seems to know anything useful about the drug or Sun Lei.”

Zhao Yunlan imagined anyone who had met the Black Cloaked Envoy in his current mood had confessed to everything they could think of, whether relevant to the questions or not.

God knew, he felt about three seconds away from spilling all his secrets, especially if Shen Wei put his hands on him again. Maybe if Zhao Yunlan pretended to lose his balance, Hei Pao Shi would just have to pick him up and push him against the grimy wall very, very firmly and then…

“I apologise for letting you down.” Shen Wei’s voice was full of regret and to Zhao Yunlan’s horror, he actually started to bend down to a formal bow.

“No, no, no, don’t…” He reached out, pulled Shen Wei straight, hands tangling in the rich black fabric of his cloak. “Don’t do that, please. You could never let me down.”

Shen Wei stared him, mouth open in shock just a little, and it was then Zhao Yunlan realised that the last bit had come out like a vow, something fierce and painful, something binding.

Zhao Yunlan took a step back but that only brought him flush against the wall again, which was not helping. “It happens,” he said, aiming for breezy and professional. “Informants clam up, leads disappear. When you’ve been doing police work as long as I have, you learn that for each case you have to try many more approaches that actually pay off in the end.”

He was babbling, he knew he was, but Shen Wei – bless him – was nodding along and, most importantly, no longer looked like he’d betrayed some kind of sacred oath between them.

“There is still the operation at the club,” Zhao Yunlan said, though he very much doubted either of them had forgotten about it.

Quickly, he filled Shen Wei in on Sun Lei’s behaviour and movements, outlining the plan, such as it was.

They were both on a schedule, Zhao Yunlan had to get ready for his new evening job and Shen Wei muttered something about grading papers, so they said their goodbyes soon after, only a little awkwardly.

Zhao Yunlan shielded his eyes from the sudden flash of the portal, sighing in both relief and disappointment as the Envoy vanished through it. This case was seriously messing with his equilibrium, already less than stable since the very first time he’d laid eyes on Professor Shen looking up at him like he’d seen a ghost.

And this was before seeing Shen Wei at the Black Lotus Club.

Zhao Yunlan sighed, running a hand through his sweaty hair as he headed home. All being well, perhaps he wouldn’t even have to talk to Shen Wei at the club. He was only there for back-up after all, maybe a little bit of a distraction to the other patrons and Sun Lei, so Zhao Yunlan would be free to do his job. And because he was very good at his job, he didn’t expect to need Shen Wei’s help in any concrete manner.

The fact that literally every case he’d worked since meeting the professor, to say nothing of his alter ego, had involved Shen Wei, often in a very hands-on manner, did not escape him. He simply chose to ignore it in order to keep his imagination in check.

That denial worked well for the remaining days before Shen Wei’s scheduled appearance, which Zhao Yunlan spent at his normal job, doing paperwork, shooing Da Qing off tables, and sending his team out on the smaller cases – good for morale and for training – until the setting sun saw him heading to the club again.

All in all, denial was a strategy that worked very, very well until the exact, painful moment it didn’t.

That moment came on the sixth night of the operation, at thirty-seven minutes past ten, when Shen Wei appeared on the other side of the bar.


***


Shen Wei understood power. It was, he thought, why he was here. Why Zhao Yunlan had asked him. Because he understood power, not just as some abstract concept, but concretely, intimately, the heavy cloak of it a familiar weight he’d carried for centuries. Shen Wei knew how to wield it, like a weapon, like a caress, and he knew how easy it was for that use to turn to abuse.

Tonight, Zhao Yunlan needed him to wield that power on his behalf. And that was the easiest thing of all. The easiest and the most dangerous.

Rather like the smile Shen Wei knew was on his face right now. But that was okay because it fitted the role he was playing (not playing) tonight, and focusing on that served to distract him from the thoughts of young Zhao Yunlan working at the Black Lotus Club and everything that came with it.

His focus and determination carried him all the way to the club, through the main area, down the corridor and the spiral staircase, his boots echoing on the metal steps in a way that reminded him of the sound his blade made, meeting its target.

Shen Wei paused to survey the scene in front of him, meeting every pair of eyes looking his way head on, letting his smirk grow deeper, meaner with each gaze dropping to the floor. It wasn’t so different from reminding the palace guards of who they were dealing with, or dispersing belligerent crowds. His palm itched with the power, and he drew it inside, held it there, thrumming behind his breastbone like a steel wire pulled taut.

For the most part, the main area wasn’t so different from the ground floor: dance floor, DJ, seating, bar. But there was also a corner with a cage, and another one with an x-frame with thick buckles attached to it, though no one actually occupying it at the moment. By the booths, some of the patrons were kneeling on the floor rather than sitting at the plush benches. In the more shadowed corners, couples or groups were engaged in activities that would get a person thrown out of the main club without a question. It was a safe bet that the more private areas hid things even more explicit, more extreme.

Nothing that the Lord Black Cloaked Envoy hadn’t seen during his long reign.

And perhaps it was this too that had coloured Zhao Yunlan’s decision to ask him – a suspicion, whether conscious or simple intuition, that in the end there was very little that truly surprised Shen Wei. Even in a place like the Black Lotus Club.

Of course, as always, Zhao Yunlan himself was the exception.

The bar was busy but Shen Wei wasn’t necessarily after a drink, only an opportunity to confirm that Zhao Yunlan was where he’d said he’d been for the last five nights. Turned out, he was not difficult to find. At one end of the serving area, a group of people was clearly enraptured by something, occasionally exclaiming or erupting in spontaneous applause. Shen Wei changed course, feeling his smile soften in anticipation.

It dropped when he finally saw Zhao Yunlan, his mouth going bone dry.

The Chief of the SID, the nightmare of every criminal Dixing-ren in Dragon City, the unwitting cornerstone and giant complication of Shen Wei’s entire existence, was putting on a show.

On one level, he was mixing cocktails.

On another level, he was doing it with skill and showmanship that lifted the activity to a form of art. Zhao Yunlan threw two bottles into air, spun around to catch them, crossed his arms to pour contents into a cocktail shaker, making it clear that the bottles had been flying already corked. He grabbed several pieces of fruit, deftly juggled them to the delight of the waiting customers, before discarding most and catching a lime with the tip of a knife.

And a plump strawberry with his teeth.

The crowd cheered.

Shen Wei’s eyes were glued to the shape of Zhao Yunlan’s mouth, stretched almost obscenely around the fruit, the juice staining his lips as he bit off a piece and chewed on it happily whilst adding the rest of the ingredients to the shaker. He dropped in ice, capped the whole thing off and started shaking. The rhythm of it somehow matched the music and Zhao Yunlan took the shaker high above his head, over his shoulder, by his subtly shifting hips without missing a beat. The movements displayed muscles in his arms in excruciating detail, his tight t-shirt only accentuating the curve of bicep that Shen Wei desperately wanted to bite. The audience clapped their hands, coins raining into the tip jar, making the already brilliant smile on Zhao Yunlan’s face turn downright incandescent.

Shen Wei swallowed. The estimated probability of surviving the night without putting his hands on Zhao Yunlan beyond any strictly case related professional reasons plummeted drastically.

Then Zhao Yunlan poured the finished cocktail into a tall glass, garnishing it with another strawberry and presenting it to the waiting customer with a little flourish. “Your order, xiānsheng.” The everyday courtesy of the title took on a different, deeper meaning in their current context, and the half-lidded, slow look Zhao Yunlan sent to the man only underlined it.

The man took the glass, his fingers trailing over the bare skin of Zhao Yunlan’s exposed wrist in a way that was anything but accidental. The movement of the crowd revealed his face and with a jolt Shen Wei recognised Sun Lei.

Zhao Yunlan was flirting with their main suspect. And perhaps on some level that even was a viable strategy to gain some information but right in that moment Shen Wei didn’t much care.

Besides, wasn’t this why Zhao Yunlan had asked him here? To be a distraction. Perhaps even a spectacle.

Shen Wei clenched his fists, the dark energy threatening to spill between his knuckles like water. He had ten thousand years of experience in controlling his power, himself. He needed every last one of them right now.

“Excuse me,” he said, imbuing his voice with all the authority of the Black Cloaked Envoy, the cold edge of it cutting a clear path as people suddenly found themselves something urgent to do somewhere else.

Three measured steps took him to the bar, pressing shoulder to shoulder with Sun Lei but affording him no more than a fleeting glance full of contempt. It seemed to hit its mark as the look on his face turned from leering to angry.

Shen Wei ignored him.

“I would like…” He scanned the cocktail menu, picking one at random. “A Fortune Margarita, please.”

It was only then that he allowed himself to look directly at the man standing on the other side of bar.

Zhao Yunlan looked even better up close, his clothing obscenely tight, frayed and soft to touch – so very easy to rend apart, Shen Wei’s mind supplied unasked – clinging to his sweat damp skin. His hair was even messier than usual, and Shen Wei was suddenly breathless with the memory of it sliding through his fingers, long and silken, fanned out over their bedroll, the firelight dancing over them both. His eyes had been dark with promise then too, although Shen Wei didn’t remember the smudges of colour he could see now, smeared over Zhao Yunlan’s lashes, the delicate skin of his eyelids.

He met Shen Wei’s gaze head on. The smile from earlier was completely gone, replaced by an expression Shen Wei was hesitant to name.



***


The night had been busy, though no more so than usual. And definitely not busy enough for the distraction to fully dampen the nervous, swooping sensation at the bottom of his stomach, a natural reaction to the operation coming to a head tonight, a cop’s anticipation of catching some bad guys, and certainly nothing else. So, Zhao Yunlan did what he usually did when the world did not provide him the distraction he needed. He made his own.

Entertaining the crowds certainly made the minutes fly by, and even Sun Lei had showed up to watch, his eyes raking over Zhao Yunlan’s body like clammy fingers. Not the most pleasant experience but one that Zhao Yunlan knew how to turn to his advantage easily enough. He flirted back, talked the man through the cocktail selection, making sure to enunciate every suggestive name, to look coyly from under his lashes as he did.

He didn’t really have a plan, wasn’t going anywhere specific with it, just planting a seed that might or might not grow into something.

It certainly wasn’t going to do it right now though, because the moment Zhao Yunlan saw Shen Wei he forgot Sun Lei, the drugs, his own name and ability to form words. That he regained it all within about five seconds was a testament to his skills as an officer of the law and possibly nothing sort of a miracle, the kind that made him send a hasty prayer to his ancestors, who were probably all very disappointed in him right now.

Or perhaps not, if they had any hand in delivering this vision before Zhao Yunlan’s eyes.

Shen Wei looked like a wet dream Zhao Yunlan’s subconscious hadn’t even had the creativity to produce. Which was kind of impressive in its own right, given the array of potential scenarios it had provided over the last few months.

What was also impressive, was the height of the heels of Shen Wei’s boots. They were knee high, hugging his legs and leaving a generous inch of bare skin on display before his… jacket? tunic? dress?!! started.

It was deep burgundy red, embroidered with intricate patterns and reinforced with long strips of leather. The overall impression was a cross between a tailcoat and an ancient battle armour, tightly fitted at the top and secured with a double row of buttons. The bottom half was split into four sections to allow for full range of movement. They overlapped but the slits went high enough that were Shen Wei to shift just the right amount, he would be showing much more than an inch of thigh.

Zhao Yunlan dragged his eyes slowly upwards. Shen Wei’s hair… He blinked, breath stuttering in his chest like a caged bird, throat burning with the sudden lack of oxygen.

She Wei’s hair fell down, straight and inky black. It was long enough to tease his waist, pulled back from his face with a couple of cleverly tied braids. It did not look like a wig, and for a moment Zhao Yunlan was overcome by a hot flash of jealousy. Because if this was what Shen Wei’s real hair looked like? If the conservative and tragically short haircut he sported normally was some kind of illusion, and Zhao Yunlan had been denied this sight for months? Well, let’s just say he was going to lodge a very serious complaint about it with someone. Although at first he was going to figure out how to bury his hands into Shen Wei’s hair, maybe rub his face against it just a bit. Maybe – and Zhao Yunlan’s treacherous mind provided him with a technicolour image of it – his entire body.

He flushed, found Shen Wei watching him, his face bare of any masks, and flushed even harder.

“I… I apologise, prof— xiānsheng.” He caught himself just in time, swallowing the familiar title. “I did not quite catch that.”

Shen Wei leaned forward, over the counter, and Zhao Yunlan found himself pulled closer as if by an invisible magnet.

“I would like a Fortune Margarita, Xiao MeiNan,” Shen Wei repeated, the words rumbling close enough to Zhao Yunlan’s ear to cause the hairs at the back of his neck to stand up, goose bumps breaking free.

He could feel Shen Wei’s body heat against his face, knew that all he would have to do was to turn his head just a little, for their mouths to slide together like he’d known they were meant to do for a while now. Zhao Yunlan inhaled, the edge of the bar digging into his stomach. Shen Wei smelled like a thunderstorm, of ozone and the distant smoke of campfires calling him home. If Zhao Yunlan would just—

“Excuse me,” Sun Lei’s voice broke the spell and Zhao Yunlan jerked back ask if burned. “We were not finished with our conversation.”

Shen Wei was much slower to pull back. He kept his eyes on Zhao Yunlan’s face the whole way. “Were you not?” he asked, and it was directed at Zhao Yunlan, not at Sun Lei.

Zhao Yunlan opened his mouth to say ‘yes, yes we were’, that he didn’t want to talk to anyone but Shen Wei, when the rational part of his brain finally woke up from the lust stupor Shen Wei’s appearance had plunged it into.

He cut his eyes from Shen Wei to Sun Lei’s angry face. The seed of an idea that he’d planted earlier was pushing to the surface. Maybe this was an opportunity. Not one he was eager to take but one that could push the case closer to a solution.

Zhao Yunlan winked at Shen Wei, hoping the other man got the message, and then grinned at both him and Sun Wei equally.

“Now, now, gentlemen.” He wagged a finger playfully. “It would be unprofessional of me to treat the esteemed customers of this club with anything but equal attention. In other words…” He grinned, cocking his hip provocatively. “There’s plenty of me to go around.”

Sun Lei’s eyes darkened with desire, anger leeching out to make way for another emotion entirely. Shen Wei though… His whole body stiffened, expression going cold and blank.

Zhao Yunlan suppressed a shiver, clamping down hard on the apology clamouring to spill out. This was only a bit of acting, didn’t mean anything.

“I don’t share,” Shen Wei stated flatly. It did not sound like a line, like anything but the unbending truth.

Zhao Yunlan had long suspected that this thing with Shen Wei would be an all or nothing kind of deal. And maybe that’s why he hadn’t pushed for it as hard as he could have. Because he knew that if he did… Shen Wei would give in, give him everything.

It was a heady thought, sitting heavy and burning in his chest, and not one he could afford to fully examine right now.

“How about the drink though, you still want that?” Zhao Yunlan asked, already pulling out the bottle of tequila.

Shen Wei seemed to snap back to himself. “Yes,” he agreed, folding his hands carefully on top of the bar. “I still want that.”

Sun Wei laughed, seemingly genuinely amused at the interaction now. “Well, I don’t have any hang-ups about sharing.” He took a sip of his own cocktail before pushing off. “Look me up later, beautiful,” he told Zhao Yunlan, “if you want to play.” With that, he turned around, melting back into the crowds.


***


The drink was both sharp and sweet, the taste of mandarin softening the bite of absinthe and tequila. Shen Wei took one cautious sip, letting it sit in his mouth almost until his tongue went numb, before swallowing. Then he pushed the rest of the glass carefully away.

The line about not being able to hold his alcohol? Not actually a line. And passing out right now was probably not what Zhao Yunlan needed from his back-up.

“The drink not to your liking, xiānsheng?” Zhao Yunlan was leaning his elbows on the bar. The position had the unfortunate effect of making the stretched collar of his shirt gape open and Shen Wei tried hard not to stare at the glimpse of chest on display, to not remember the way it felt, pressed against his.

Then again, perhaps in a place like this, not looking was the wrong thing to do.

Shen Wei let his eyes drop to the hollow of Zhao Yunlan’s throat.

“The drink is good, Xiao NenRou.” He used another pet name, because it fitted the parts they were playing, and because it made Zhao Yunlan grin in a kind of delighted, incredulous manner, like he’d never expected to hear such words from Professor Shen’s mouth and was now deeply sorry he couldn’t record them for posterity.

It was a good look on him. It was a look he certainly hadn’t been giving Sun Lei.

Shen Wei stood straighter, allowed a bit of the Envoy’s harshness to bleed through as he continued, gaze blatantly fixed to the pale column of Zhao Yunlan’s neck. “I just prefer something with a bit more… bite.”

Zhao Yunlan swallowed, and Shen Wei watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down, and thought about the way it would feel moving against his hand. He was pretty sure at least some of that was plain on his face because Zhao Yunlan hissed, casting a surreptitious look around them to see if anyone was paying attention, before leaning in even closer.

“It seems Chief Zhao has made an excellent tactical decision once more,” he murmured. “Professor Shen was clearly the best choice for tonight’s operation.”

“I do not believe it was Professor Shen, Chief Zhao wanted watching his back tonight,” Shen Wei countered.

Zhao Yunlan blinked, pulling back enough to look Shen Wei in the eye. Their gazes caught, held.

On the bar top, Shen Wei’s hands curled into loose fists. The barely touched glass of Fortune Margarita trembled.

The moment stretched.

Snapped.

“Stop.” Zhao Yunlan closed his eyes tightly, breaking the contact. “We have to focus, and I can’t if you…” He breathed slowly in and out, before opening his eyes again. “Here’s the plan.”

Shen Wei wanted to apologise, but they were equally responsible here and Zhao Yunlan wasn’t saying sorry. There was regret in his eyes and voice, but Shen Wei was almost certain it was not about what they’d started, only that they’d had to stop.

And with that thought came the inconceivable, intoxicating, dangerous possibility that this was something to be continued.

“I’m listening,” Shen Wei said. Suddenly, he wanted to catch Sun Lei and his Dixing-ren supplier very, very badly.


***


An hour later, Shen Wei was still listening. Only this time it was not to Zhao Yunlan’s voice, but the rhythmic thwack of a leather strap hitting skin, each strike punctuated by a hitching sob. At first sight of the scene – a young man strung up by his hands, toes scrabbling for purchase on the ground, the hits leaving an even pattern of red marks across his back, buttock, thighs – had caused old, unpleasant memories to surface, of prisoners of war and men broken and bleeding, begging for their life.

But there was no suffering here, not the true kind. The sub’s face was slack with pleasure, and his body twisted into the kiss of the strap, not away. Every few strokes, the domme paused to run fingers over her partner, petting, checking, caressing.

When the two kissed, Shen Wei averted his eyes, feeling like he was intruding in something private even though the two had chosen to stage their scene in one of play rooms open to all.

Including Sun Lei.

The drug dealer was lounging on a sofa, clearly enjoying the show. His third for the night. Indeed, so far the man had done nothing more suspicious than be perhaps a bit too handsy, though nothing that would’ve gotten him kicked out.

There had certainly not been any little pink packages of sakura exchanging hands, although Shen Wei had seen a few people approach him clearly in search of more than the club’s usual interaction. So far, they had all been sent away emptyhanded.

Which made sense, as Sun Lei clearly wasn’t in possession of his wares yet.

Enter Zhao Yunlan’s ‘plan’, which, in Shen Wei’s opinion, didn’t actually deserve the title.

Sun Lei moved around a lot, around the main area, from one playroom to the next, occasionally taking someone to the private rooms as well. If one of them followed him into each one, it would get ‘real obvious, real quick’ as Zhao Yunlan had put it. However, if they took turns, and arranged to be in the location before Sun Lei, that would draw much less of the wrong kind of attention.

“What is the right kind of attention, Chief Zhao?” Shen Wei had asked and Zhao Yunlan had laughed, in that way of his that wasn’t about amusement at all, only noise to mask his true emotion.

“The kind you are going to get, Hei Pao Shi Da Ren,” he’d said, gaze not quite meeting Shen Wei’s.

The formal address had jarred, so soon after their… moment of closeness, but Shen Wei understood now what Zhao Yunlan had hinted at.

The way people’s eyes followed him, was not unlike the way the denizens of Dixing looked as the Lord Black Cloaked Envoy walked passed by. The way some of them went to their knees was familiar too, though Shen Wei doubted that the motivations behind the gesture were the same.

Zhao Yunlan had wanted him to be a distraction. The more eyes were on Shen Wei, the fewer were anywhere else, which would both lull Sun Lei into a false sense of being unobserved and give Zhao Yunlan a chance to figure out how he received the drugs.

So Shen Wei played his part, making a show of considering those who approached him, exchanging a few words and smiles, complementing the posture of those kneeling, inspecting the equipment, faking interest in the scenes around him.

A couple of people mistook his long hair as an invitation to touch. They realised their error quickly enough, often by having their hand caught in an iron grip before any contact was made.

Shen Wei himself was careful not to initiate touch with anyone unless he had to. The only person he wanted to put his hands on, whose hair he wanted to stroke, whose wrists he imagined pressed against his palms, was not among those kneeling at his feet.

Shen Wei knew of course where he was, Zhao Yunlan’s presence constantly brushing at the edge of his awareness, like a stone cast to the water at the other side of a lake, the ripples reaching him no matter the distance. Right now though, it was a distance he could not afford to close.

Instead, Shen Wei smiled at the pair he’d been watching, this time in genuine approval at the care the domme took in helping her partner out of the restraints.

Behind him, Zhao Yunlan slipped out of the room. A few minutes later, Sun Lei followed.


***


Zhao Yunlan’s luck ran out in the corridor leading to the private rooms. He’d circled back to the main area with an intention of settling behind the bar for a bit again. His second break was almost over, and even though the bar manager knew his true purpose at the club and was unlikely to complain about his absence, he didn’t want to push it or deal with any snide remarks about favouritism.

And, if he was completely honest with himself, which it seemed like high time for, he also needed a break from watching everyone throw themselves at Shen Wei. He couldn’t even be mad, because it was what he’d wanted, at least part of the reason why he’d invited Shen Wei onto the case in the first place.

Chief Zhao had calculated that having the Lord Black Cloaked Envoy waltz into the Black Lotus Club, cloaked in all his power and arrogance, would provide an excellent distraction. Chief Zhao had been right and should be congratulating himself for his strategic prowess.

Chief Zhao wanted badly to find a quiet corner and either hit his head against the nearest wall, or punch his fist through it. Jealousy was not an emotion he was familiar with and he didn’t much like it.

It also wasn’t conducive to clearheaded decision-making, so when he saw Sun Lei head towards the private rooms with a dazed looking young man in tow, Zhao Yunlan didn’t hesitate to follow them.

The club boasted a dozen private playrooms, some themed, including a medical examination room, school room and wet room. Each could either be reserved in advance, or simply used if unoccupied. A strict maximum time limit of an hour per couple/group was enforced via timed locks. After an hour, the doors would swing open on their own and wouldn’t close again until reset by staff. It was a clever system, and certainly beat the one in place when Zhao Yunlan had last worked at the club, which had mostly consisted of persistent knocking and blacklisting repeat loiterers.

The corridor was surprisingly busy when Zhao Yunlan slipped through the doorway, a large group laughing and murmuring fondly to each other as they exited one of the rooms. Zhao Yunlan pressed himself against the wall to let them pass, hoping he would manage to catch the room number of Sun Lei’s chosen destination before the man got inside.

Turned out, he caught a bit more than he bargained for. When the group of people had cleared out, Zhao Yunlan rounded the corner and… Came face to face with Sun Lei.

The man was standing in the middle of the corridor, his arms crossed and a narrow-eyed look on his face.

“We meet again, piào liang.” Sun Lei raked his gaze over Zhao Yunlan’s body, but the underlying suspicion was still there. “Seems wherever I go tonight, I find you.”

Zhao Yunlan froze for a few seconds and then capitulated. “The honoured sir told me to find him.” He softened his voice and body language both, shoulders rounding, gaze falling to the floor. “Here I am.”

There was a beat of silence and Zhao Yunlan thought about dropping to his knees but no, that was too presumptuous. Besides, even the idea of it made his skin crawl.

Sun Lei laughed. Zhao Yunlan risked a glance up, noting with relief that the drug dealer’s posture had relaxed and he no longer looked likely to jump to wrong, or indeed right, conclusions.

“Ah, měi lì. You seemed so taken with the other guy, I did not expect this. However…” Sun Lei stepped closer, his hand coming up to cup Zhao Yunlan’s jaw, tilting his face up. “I already have a sweet thing waiting for me.” He nodded meaningfully at one of the doors, and then rubbed a pad of his thumb over Zhao Yunlan’s bottom lip. Zhao Yunlan fought the urge to bite down. “There is of course, always room for another one.”

Sun Lei started backing toward the room, finger hooked around the collar of Zhao Yunlan’s shirt, towing him along.

Shit. Shit. He hadn’t actually thought the guy might take him up on the offer, considering the contemptuous way he’d treated the bar staff before. Maybe his earlier show and flirting had been a bit too effective, and now Zhao Yunlan was fast running out of options that didn’t end up with him on his knees with Sun Lei’s cock in his mouth. Or worse.

“Stop.” The word crashed into the corridor with all the subtlety of a rockslide.

Both Sun Lei and Zhao Yunlan froze on the spot, the power of the command reaching something deep and primal.

“What do you think you are doing?” Shen Wei’s voice was like shards of ice, cold and deadly. “This one…” His hand gripped the back of Zhao Yunlan’s neck and yanked him back, none too gently. “This one is mine.”

Zhao Yunlan stumbled and was immediately pulled close, held steady by an arm wrapping around his waist as Shen Wei anchored him against his chest.

Zhao Yunlan whimpered. It was only Sun Lei’s presence and lingering uncertainty over just how much of this was Shen Wei playing the role Zhao Yunlan had specifically asked him to, that stopped him from shamelessly grinding his ass against Shen Wei’s groin. The arm around him tightened, and before he even realised what was going on, Shen Wei had physically lifted him off his feet, swung around, and propped him against the wall behind him. Then he turned back to Sun Lei, deliberately shielding Zhao Yunlan from his view.

“Did you not have somewhere to be?” Shen Wei asked pointedly.

It was clear that Sun Lei decided not to argue the point, not that Zhao Yunlan wanted him to. The only sound was a door clicking shut as Sun Lei chose to avail himself to the sure thing waiting for him.

Zhao Yunlan was still working on remembering how to breathe – Shen Wei had just… picked him up, one-armed, and posited him as he’d pleased, and wasn’t that something to think about, preferably in private – when it occurred to him that they were now alone in the corridor.

Shen Wei took long enough to turn around and face him that Zhao Yunlan was bracing himself for disapproval, if not outright anger. And both of those things were there, in the tight, unhappy line of Shen Wei’s mouth but even lust-hazy and shivering Zhao Yunlan could recognise the source of it as worry.

“Is this what you call having back-up?” Shen Wei hissed. His hands were back on Zhao Yunlan, fingers curled around his upper arms, tightly enough to bruise and that was not a thought that was making thinking any easier.

“I had it covered,” Zhao Yunlan said. His tongue felt clumsy and thick and the words it was barely forming were all lies.

Shen Wei knew that, judging by the way his expression hardened. He cast a quick glance on either side of them, and then the world went momentarily dark and swirly.

A few seconds later, Zhao Yunlan gasped for breath as if resurfacing from a dive and staggered a little to regain his balance. They were in one of the private rooms. Where Shen Wei has just teleported them.

“What… That…” Zhao Yunlan tried again. “There could’ve been someone here!”

“I checked.” It was clipped. Shen Wei had let go of him now. Zhao Yunlan tried not to be too disappointed about it and was failing miserably.

“What were you thinking?” Apparently, Shen Wei was not quite done with the topic. “It was stupid, to put yourself at risk like that!”

“Hey!” And now Zhao Yunlan was getting annoyed too. “I’m not some defenceless victim here! It is actually my job to take risks, in case you’ve forgotten!”

“Not like this!”

Zhao Yunlan didn’t think he’d ever heard Shen Wei raise his voice, not even as the Black Cloaked Envoy. He wasn’t exactly shouting now either, but the effort to not do that was obvious in the tense lines of his body.

“Not when you have me here! When you specifically asked... Zhao Yunlan, you asked me to be your back-up. And then you put yourself in a situation like this!” Shen Wei’s hands were clenched into fists, held rigidly by his side, nails digging into his palms. “Were you trying to get hurt? Did you want him to put his hands on you, to… to take you to…?”

It was a nonsensical accusation of course, enough so to slap Zhao Yunlan right out of his indignation.

“Oh,” he said, almost rocking back with realisation because… Oh.

This was worry and protectiveness, which he’d already known because Shen Wei was not nearly as subtle as he thought, but the hot curl of possessiveness that wound through them like a barbed wire was new. Or perhaps… not so new after all. Just, newly visible to him.

“Shen Wei.” The name came out soft, all anger leeched out and replaced by something lighter, something a lot like hope. “No. I…”

Three steps and Zhao Yunlan was there, close enough to feel Shen Wei’s heat, close enough that he could’ve pressed himself against the hard line of his body if he’d dared. “Xiao Wei,” he said, “please,” not at all sure what he was asking for, or offering, except he needed to make this right, to let him know that even the idea of someone else…

“I apologise.”

If Zhao Yunlan had hoped for some softening of tone and posture, he got the exact opposite. Shen Wei’s back went even more rigid and he took a step away, turning to face the wall.

“I was out of line.”

And sure, he had been, but that was the point. Shen Wei had been crossing all sorts of lines with him since day one, clearly despite trying hard not to. More importantly, he’d allowed Zhao Yunlan to do the same, never once seriously pushing him away no matter how inappropriate or outrageous he got.

This particular line? Was not one Shen Wei needed to be careful about. This one, Zhao Yunlan wanted him to drag them both over.

However, before he had a chance to make his case, Shen Wei waved his hand in a complex pattern and the wall between them and the next room vanished.

Zhao Yunlan yelped in alarm.


***


“They can’t see us. Or hear us,” Shen Wei said as Zhao Yunlan slapped a hand over his own mouth. “The wall is still there. Just… invisible.”

On the other side of it was Sun Lei. His plaything for the night was kneeling in the middle of the room, hands tied behind his back and seemingly content smile on his face. He was also blindfolded.

Sun Lei was walking slow circles around the sub, touching him every now and then, and talking.

“The walls are soundproofed,” Shen Wei reminded Zhao Yunlan, who was frowning at the scene. “And still there.” He tapped a finger against the invisible surface, and watched from the corner of his eye as Zhao Yunlan did the same, looking fascinated.

Internally, Shen Wei sighed in relief. The trick had served the dual purpose of assisting with the case and redirecting Zhao Yunlan’s perceptiveness and curiosity back to it, away from the more dangerous topics.

“What the hell is he doing?”

Shen Wei followed Zhao Yunlan’s gaze, now fixed on Sun Lei who seemed to be drawing something on the back wall of the room, only there was no visible marking left from the brush he was using.

They both tensed.

“Is that…?”

Shen Wei concentrated, sending out a tendril of power to probe, unhampered by physical barriers.

“No,” he finally concluded. “Nothing as powerful as the Merit Brush. Maybe a distant cousin of it at most.”

Of course, that was still cause for concern on its own right.

In the next room, Sun Lei finished whatever pattern he’d been drawing, stepping back to his sub and hiding the brush away in his coat.

While he absentmindedly stroked the kneeling boy’s hair, the wall started to glow, first faintly and then a deep golden colour as if someone had set fire to it. Sheltered by the blindfold, and facing the other way for good measure, the sub was none the wiser.

Shen Wei could sense the waves of Dixing power even through the wall, so he was less surprised than Zhao Yunlan when a section of it shimmered, seemed to expand, and in the end spat out a plastic bag. It didn’t take a genius to guess what was in it.

“What the fuck?” Zhao Yunlan blinked. “Teleporting drugs?”

“Not precisely. More like phasing matter through… other matter.”

They watched Sun Lei extract the neatly tied baggies of sakura, secreting them away in various pockets of his outfit. He tossed the empty bag into the bin in the corner and returned to his waiting sub. The wall stopped its glowing, returning to normal as if nothing had happened.

“Tell me,” Shen Wei said, considering. “What is on the other side of this club?”

Zhao Yunlan turned around slowly, clearly reorienting himself. “That side… Just an office building I think. Empty this time of the night.”

Shen Wei hummed, pleased, though not particularly surprised that Zhao Yunlan had caught onto his thinking easily.

“Would Chief Zhao mind if the Black Cloaked Envoy stepped out on some urgent business?” he asked, the brittle uncertainty of earlier replaced by the easy, familiar rhythm of working together.

“Chief Zhao would consider such a course of action acceptable in the current circumstances,” Zhao Yunlan replied, eyebrow quirked in amusement. “Recommended, even.”

They shared a quick grin. Shen Wei didn’t know what his own looked like, but Zhao Yunlan’s was triumphant, a little wild around the edges. He wanted to kiss it badly, to find out if it still tasted like he remembered, like victory, and the first rain over the battlefield.

In the next room, Sun Lei started undoing his belt. Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan both recoiled, the lighter mood breaking as quickly as it had formed. Hastily, Shen Wei snapped his fingers and the wall between them became blessedly impenetrable once more.

Another curl of his fingers, and his red coat was covered by the familiar black cloak of the Envoy, the staff appearing in his hand, sharp as ever.

There was not much he could do about his boots on a short notice, but the cloak covered most of them and if any Dixing-ren realised their Envoy seemed taller than normal… Well, surely that would just add to the general aura of mystery and intimidation? At least if no one noticed the heels…

Zhao Yunlan was watching him, and Shen Wei was suddenly glad of the mask that hid at least some of what he was feeling, although probably not as much as he hoped. Zhao Yunlan had turned out to be very good at seeing through all of his walls and covers, as if he had a power to make them invisible in the same way Shen Wei had done to the physical wall between the rooms just now.

“I’ll take care of Sun Lei,” Zhao Yunlan said, glancing at the door. “Though, I’ll just… wait until he’s done, before arresting him.” He grimaced.

Shen Wei nodded, the portal snapping into existence at his command.

“I’ll see you later,” Zhao Yunlan said, just as the club vanished from view.

Shen Wei emerged in the lobby of the office building next door, the reception desk empty of even any night security, which was both suspicious and working for his advantage right now. It took no time at all to find the stairs leading to the basement, the Dixing-ren already walking up them and thoroughly shocked to find the Lord Black Cloaked Envoy waiting for him at the top.

The man was not much of a fighter, and Shen Wei had him back in Dixing and confessing to everything, including his human distribution network, in less than half an hour. All in all, it was almost anticlimactic, after the preparation that had gone to the operation. Still, the intelligence was good, and something SID would be able to feed back to the police departments in Dragon City and elsewhere.

The interrogation and the resulting administration took longer than the actual arrest, and it was well past two in the morning before Shen Wei was back in his apartment in Dragon City. He knocked on Zhao Yunlan’s door but received no reply. It was possible that he was already fast asleep, but not very likely.

Shen Wei tried his phone, and then, when there was no answer and no ringing sound from inside Zhao Yunlan’s apartment, he dialled the SID office.

Chu Shuzhi picked up.

“We’re still processing Sun Lei,” he said, sounding none too happy about it. “You wouldn’t believe the paperwork involved in transferring a suspect between SID and Dragon City PD.”

“I’m afraid I have information to add to it,” Shen Wei said. “The report from the Dixing administrators should be with you by the morning.”

Chu Shuzhi grunted his thanks. There was a beat of expectant silence, and then: “Was there anything else I can do for you, Hei Pao Shi?” his tone reverential again.

Shen Wei cleared his throat. “Oh, I… was hoping to talk to Chief Zhao?”

Another few seconds of silence, these somehow managing to convey surprise and amusement both, even though Chu Shuzhi’s voice was perfectly devoid of either when he replied. “Chief Zhao is still at the Black Lotus Club. Said something about wanting to finish his shift.”

Shen Wei blinked at the phone. “I see,” he said. “Thank you.” He hung up.

Around him, the apartment echoed with the absence of noise, of life, nothing but shadows and unoccupied furniture filling the space.

Shen Wei could stay home. Zhao Yunlan would be back in the morning, and they would go on as before, maybe a little more awkward for a few days but nothing that couldn’t be ignored until it vanished on its own.

Or. Or.

There was a choice to make here. Except it was the one he had already made, ten thousand years ago.

Shen Wei vanished his cloak and mask, and was about to teleport back to the by now familiar alley behind the Black Lotus Club, when he caught sight of himself in the hallway mirror, and hesitated.


***


It was about half an hour until the closing time. The crowds had thinned, although there were plenty of patrons still left, determined to enjoy the freedom of the club environment until the very last minute. Zhao Yunlan had lost enthusiasm for showy cocktail making, which was just as well as this time of the night most requests were for water or soft drinks.

He had also lost hope that Shen Wei would come back, that he’d understood Zhao Yunlan’s ‘see you later’ as an invitation to pick up where they left off as soon as the bad guys were behind the bars. Or maybe, he had understood it just fine, and the continued absence was deliberate, an answer in its own right.

The thought made something heavy settle in Zhao Yunlan’s chest, a mixture of fear and guilt the likes of which he thought he’d left behind years ago. In the morning, he would apologise to Shen Wei. Maybe apologise to the Lord Black Cloaked Envoy even, as Chief Zhao of SID. Or perhaps Shen Wei would prefer not to talk about what had happened – almost happened? Only happened in Zhao Yunlan’s hope-stupid head? – at all, and he should just…

“Excuse me.”

A hand pushed into Zhao Yunlan’s field of vision, which had been firmly trained on the bar top and the glasses he’d been stacking. Familiar fingers came to rest at the back of his wrist, just briefly, before withdrawing.

“Are you still serving?”

Zhao Yunlan lifted his gaze and felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of Shen Wei – his Shen Wei, short hair, glasses, a dove grey vest and trousers, white shirt with sleeves held up by the garters – looking steadily at him from the other side of the counter.

“For you, Professor Shen, always,” Zhao Yunlan said. His heart felt like it was expanding to fill every aching, empty part of him, because Shen Wei was here, smiling at him in that way of his, like he wasn’t quite sure whether he should but couldn’t help himself. Zhao Yunlan wanted to crawl over the bar to him, to lay himself down like an unworthy offering, just for a chance to feel that smile against his skin.

He settled for asking: “What can I get you?” instead, his hand shaking only a little as he pulled out a glass free from the stack.

Shen Wei breathed, a slow, measured inhale that made his chest expand enough to draw Zhao Yunlan’s attention to the way the buttonholes stretched at the strain, just a little.

The exhale was long, but even, and Shen Wei’s eyes when they met Zhao Yunlan’s were dark and hiding nothing. “Everything,” Shen Wei said. “Anything you will give, Xiao Yunlan.”

The truth of it slammed into him like a fist, as inevitable as a tidal wave. He’d always suspected, perhaps even known, deep down, that what Shen Wei felt for him was no ordinary thing. That it could burn worlds.

Shen Wei would do it too, if Zhao Yunlan only asked.

The power of it rocked him back and then forwards, straight into Shen Wei’s waiting hands as Zhao Yunlan leaned over the counter, reaching out for what finally was within reach.

“Yes,” he breathed. “Yes, Shen Wei, everything.”

And Shen Wei took him at his word, at every smile and look and action, at every broken rule and every question he had left unasked on nothing but faith, his fingers curling into the thin fabric of Zhao Yunlan’s shirt as he pulled him close.

Zhao Yunlan fell into the kiss like he’d fallen for Shen Wei, suddenly, recklessly, with everything he had. The angle was awkward but he couldn’t care less, Shen Wei’s hand coming up to cup the back of his head, angling Zhao Yunlan exactly the way he wanted to, and Zhao Yunlan moaned into it, already sucking on Shen Wei’s tongue, open, open, open and greedy for it. The kiss was bruising, brutal like only love could be.

Zhao Yunlan tried to get his arms around Shen Wei’s neck, but the position made it impossible, his balance shot and elbow banging painfully to the sticky surface of the bar.

Shen Wei growled, hand shooting out to grab the back of Zhao Yunlan’s belt and then he was physically hauled over the counter, glasses shattering everywhere as he scrambled to get his knees under him, half pulled, half crawling until Shen Wei could get a solid grip on his thighs. Once he had it, Zhao Yunlan found himself simply lifted off and down, as effortlessly as if he weighed nothing, as if Shen Wei hadn’t even had to think twice about it. The potential of that made his knees buckle, enough that when Shen Wei finally set him down, Zhao Yunlan had to clutch at his shoulders to keep standing.

“Hey! Do you need me to call security?” The bar manager had come running, alerted by the commotion.

She wasn’t the only one. Zhao Yunlan looked over his shoulder, over Shen Wei’s too, and saw they’d attracted a moderate audience.

“Everything is fine,” he called, voice obviously, embarrassingly hoarse. That is, if he’d had any space for such useless emotions as embarrassment at the moment. “Dock it from my pay,” he told the manager. “I’ll be, uh, finishing a bit early tonight.”

It helped that she knew exactly who he was, and why he’d been at the club in the first place, because she just rolled her eyes at him. “I bet you will be,” she muttered, already reaching for a dustpan.

Zhao Yunlan turned back to Shen Wei, about to suggest they continue the conversation elsewhere, but found him frozen on the spot, as immovable as a mountain. Of course, for a man whose entire existence was wrapped in secrets and tightly guarded privacy, this probably hadn’t been what he’d had in mind.

“Come on,” Zhao Yunlan coaxed, running a calming hand over Shen Wei’s arm, petting at his bicep, tense and beautiful under Zhao Yunlan’s fingers. Shen Wei’s grip on his hips tightened, and Zhao Yunlan swallowed a moan.

“It’s fine. We’ll just say that the suspect resisted arrest, and charge the glasses from the expenses. Or…” he amended, smoothing a thumb over the disapproving lines between Shen Wei’s brows. “I really will take it off my pay.”

“It was my fault,” Shen Wei said, still frowning.

At least they were moving now, Zhao Yunlan gently nudging them toward the private rooms, closer than the club’s exit. Besides, he wasn’t confident enough about his ability to navigate the spiral staircase right now, feet lust-clumsy enough that he was relieved Shen Wei finally took the hint and more than half of his weight as they stumbled through the door into the same corridor where they’d had their encounter with Sun Lei a few hours ago.

“We can dock it from your consultation fee then,” Zhao Yunlan said, laughing a little. “If you’re that worried.” He propped himself against closed door, letting his hips cant forward just to see if Shen Wei would take this hint too.

“I don’t charge a consultation fee,” Shen Wei commented, although he sounded gratifyingly distracted, eyes definitely lower than Zhao Yunlan’s face. The air around him shimmered, black and blue and golden, like space and all its stars leaking through, as if now that it was just the two of them, Shen Wei could no longer quite focus on keeping his power in check.

Fuck. Zhao Yunlan swallowed hard, digging nails into his own palms. He had to get them out of here while he still could.

“Xiao Wei…” The endearment did the trick, and Shen Wei’s startled eyes met his. “We can continue to discuss the appropriate compensation for the broken glassware if you want,” Zhao Yunlan said, stepping closer, heedless of the danger, knowing with bone-deep certainty that Shen Wei would never hurt him. “But wouldn’t you rather take me home instead?”

He pressed the question to the corner of Shen Wei’s mouth. He’d meant it as suggestive, playful even, to stop Shen Wei retreating back behind his walls. Instead, it came out like a plea, a desire left unvoiced for too long, with nothing to temper it any more.

Shen Wei pulled back enough to look at Zhao Yunlan’s face, clearly searching for any signs of hesitation, but Zhao Yunlan knew there was none. “Please?” he asked, gratified when Shen Wei’s arms wrapped themselves back around him, holding him steady.

Their second kiss was no less incendiary than the first, perhaps even more so thanks to the benefit of having all of Shen Wei pressed against him now, close enough that Zhao Yunlan could feel each individual button of Shen Wei’s vest digging into his chest and stomach. He scrabbled for purchase on the rich, smooth fabric of the shirt, bunching it carelessly as he tugged it loose, desperate for what lay underneath. The first touch of his fingers to the warm, bare skin at the small of Shen Wei’s back was a revelation, Shen Wei grinding his hips forward, back arching for a long, endless moment, before he dragged Zhao Yunlan’s mouth back to his.

There was a rush of cold air, like someone opening a window in midwinter, and when Zhao Yunlan looked around, they were standing in his apartment. He blinked, disoriented for a second, but then shook his head, laughing. “Well,” he said, “that sure beats an awkward taxi ride.”

Shen Wei quirked a smile. “You wanted to get home,” he said, just a tad defensively, as if Zhao Yunlan had asked for an explanation for this outrageous turn of events.

And something about that, the soft curve of Shen Wei’s lips, the way he looked at Zhao Yunlan like he couldn’t quite believe he was there, and real, just pushed the truth right out of him.

“I’ve wanted this, you, for a long time,” he said, all traces of laughter now gone. “Tonight, yesterday, last week, the first time I met you and you didn’t let go of my hand…” He reached up and gently took off Shen Wei’s glasses, folding them carefully and putting them on the nearby table.

This kiss was slower, somehow more fragile than the others, Shen Wei’s eyes huge and startled, his hands coming up to cradle Zhao Yunlan’s face, thumbs stroking over cheekbones, a tickling touch travelling over the shells of his ears, down his neck.

“Xiao Wei,” Zhao Yunlan sighed, hooking his fingers under Shen Wei’s belt, walking backwards until his back hit the nearest wall and pulling the other man flush against him. “Can I?” he asked, fingertip tapping against the top button of Shen Wei’s vest.

In answer, Shen Wei nodded, spreading his arms and letting Zhao Yunlan do as he pleased. He unbuttoned Shen Wei’s shirt too, though left it on for now, liking the way it framed his chest and stomach, teasing him with glimpses of soft skin and hard muscle.

“God,” he said, “look at you.” A long stroke of his hands over all of that, palm pressed against Shen Wei’s heart, and the next kiss turned heated again.

Zhao Yunlan wanted closer, more, his right leg coming up to hook over Shen Wei’s hip, slotting the two of them together like puzzle pieces.

“Like this?” Shen Wei asked, and then his hands were there, under Zhao Yunlan’s thighs, lifting him up, bringing his other leg to wrap around Shen Wei’s waist too.

“Fuck!” Zhao Yunlan’s head thumped against the wall as he arched, hands curled around Shen Wei’s shoulders for balance, trapped and weightless and so turned on he could do nothing but whine, Shen Wei’s tongue lapping at the sound right through the thin, taut skin of his throat.

At this angle, Shen Wei had to reach up to kiss him and Zhao Yunlan bent down, hands buried in Shen Wei’s hair, already moaning into it. He was caught between Shen Wei’s mouth, the solid strength of his arms and the insistent press of his cock against Zhao Yunlan’s ass, all of it so, so good and not nearly enough.

“I want to… Please?” He gasped between kisses, wriggling until Shen Wei’s grip on him loosened, enough that he could slide to his knees right there, awkward and cramped and perfect, caged between the wall and Shen Wei’s body.

His hands shook like a virgin’s when he reached for Shen Wei’s belt, fingers clumsy on the trouser buttons as he eased them open one at a time, Shen Wei’s muscles locked tight as he held himself still, eyes blown wide.

“You…” He reached down to pet his hair, the side of his face and Zhao Yunlan knew what he was going to say and didn’t want to hear it.

“I want to,” he repeated. “Will you make me beg?” And just the idea of it, of being on his knees and begging for Shen Wei to fill his mouth, ass, anything, because he was too empty, empty and aching for it, made him shiver, made his own cock harden impossibly more, painful in the confines of his tight jeans.

“I will,” he promised, leaning forward to rub his open mouth against the rigid line of Shen Wei’s erection, still trapped under layers of fabric. “I will, if you want me to.”

Shen Wei’s hips jerked forward, like perhaps he liked the idea more than he thought he should. “No,” he grated out. “No, I will not make you beg.”

Filing that away for further discussion – he could be very persuasive when he was motivated – Zhao Yunlan undid the rest of the buttons, gently pulling trousers and underwear downwards, the loosely hanging shirt framing Shen Wei’s cock beautifully.

His mouth was already watering as he reached up to lick a long strip from root to the tip, gripping Shen Wei’s thighs for support, somehow both tentative and eager as though he’d never done this before, like this was the first time that mattered.

Shen Wei was so careful, too careful, his hand merely resting on Zhao Yunlan’s shoulder, not even the barest pressure when Zhao Yunlan knew that if Shen Wei wanted to, he could hold him there and make him choke on it.

He wasn’t unaffected though. When Zhao Yunlan wrapped his lips around the head of Shen Wei’s cock, tongue flat on the underside and hand curled around the length, the grip on his shoulder briefly tightened to crushing, Zhao Yunlan’s mangled name sounding like it was punched out of him.

Zhao Yunlan wanted more of that. Despite feeling like it in some ways, this was not the first time he was sucking someone’s dick. He put all his skills to good use now, determined to find out exactly what would make Shen Wei lose some of his tightly held control.

Zhao Yunlan reached up and brought one of Shen Wei’s hands into his hair, moaning appreciatively when his fingers hesitantly curled in. He might not have actual supernatural learning abilities like some, but Zhao Yunlan was no slouch either. And he read bodies like books.

Shen Wei’s was not as difficult to understand as he thought, and every twitch, jerk, and sigh Zhao Yunlan managed to coax out was noted, catalogued and the corresponding move repeated.

Within ten minutes, Shen Wei was panting, his hips moving in tight circles as he fucked Zhao Yunlan’s mouth, less careful with every thrust. It was good, so good Zhao Yunlan could feel himself zoning out, lust curling hot and urgent low in his stomach.

He was just starting to think that he could come like this, just from having his mouth full and used, from the barely there friction of his jeans against his own cock as his hips shifted helplessly against thin air, when Shen Wei’s voice pulled him back from the brink.

“Stop,” he gritted out. “Zhao Yunlan, stop.”

And Zhao Yunlan did, letting his mouth fall lax and open, hands dropping to his sides.

Shen Wei’s grip on his hair tightened to painful, the sting sharp enough to make Zhao Yunlan’s eyes water and it was good, so fucking good, to have Shen Wei finally just tilt his head back and shove his cock in and down, taking what he wanted, what Zhao Yunlan had been offering practically since the first day.

It didn’t last. Shen Wei let himself have three thrusts, long and slow, before pulling back entirely.

Zhao Yunlan found himself pulled up to his feet, Shen Wei’s mouth on him, licking inside it like he wanted to devour him, peppering small kisses over Zhao Yunlan’s face, under his eyes. He could feel the sharp exhale of surprise, of threatening regret, when Shen Wei tasted the salt of his tears, and he didn’t want that.

“If you’re not going to fuck my mouth,” Zhao Yunlan panted, grinning wildly between the kisses. “I hope you have other plans for this.” He reached down, giving Shen Wei’s spit-slick cock a squeeze, shamelessly rubbing his own erection against the thigh pressed between his legs. “C’mon,” he breathed. “Shen Wei, I need…”

As a strategy, asking Shen Wei for something he needed seemed to work as well in this context as it did in other things. Zhao Yunlan found himself unceremoniously picked up, carried to the bed, and tossed on top of his already messy sheets. He bounced a bit and then just laid there, dazed and too turned on to coordinate his limbs.

“Anything,” Shen Wei said, breath hot against Zhao Yunlan ear, and he was already spreading Zhao Yunlan’s legs as much as the jeans allowed, running a hand up his thigh to his ass, finger pressing in just a little over the middle seam, leaving little question over what he had in mind.

“Yes, that.” Zhao Yunlan nodded frantically, hands coming to scrabble at his own belt. “Top drawer.” He waived in the direction of his nightstand and then got utterly distracted from actually taking off his clothes by the sight of Professor Shen rummaging for lube right there in his apartment, shirt hanging loose, hair thoroughly rumpled and cock standing flush against his stomach, dusky pink and still glistening with saliva. Zhao Yunlan surreptitiously pinched his own thigh, just to check that he wasn’t having a particularly vivid dream.

It hurt enough that he was mostly convinced when Shen Wei turned back to the bed, brandishing the lube bottle victoriously. His smile lost some of its brightness when he saw Zhao Yunlan just lying there like an idiot.

“What…?” he asked, frowning. “Do you—?”

“Yes!” Zhao Yunlan snapped back to what was left of his senses. “I really, absolutely do.” He undid his belt and buttons, lifting his hips off the mattress to push down everything to mid-thigh and then sat up to deal with the rest of it, including his boots.

Shen Wei made a noise, and then his hands were there, tugging at the hem of Zhao Yunlan’s t-shirt and pulling it over his head at the same time as he managed to finally kick out of his jeans and underwear.

Zhao Yunlan flopped back onto the covers, triumphant and completely naked. It was Shen Wei’s turn to stare, and the heat of it made Zhao Yunlan break out in a sweat, his dick leaking against his stomach. He wanted to preen, wanted to be still and let Shen Wei look his fill, wanted beg to be touched, his hand sneaking towards his cock without him even realising.

“Stop.”

For the third time that night, the command made him freeze, fingers hovering just an inch from his dick, before he carefully put his hand down, fisting at the sheets instead.

Shen Wei licked his lips. Then he bent down, pulled Zhao Yunlan’s leg up and to the side, and bit into the soft, tender flesh at the inside of his thigh.

Zhao Yunlan keened, head thrown back, spine curving up like a bowstring. Maybe Shen Wei had seen him pinch himself and thought to do one better, maybe he wanted to leave a mark, maybe he just liked hearing Zhao Yunlan scream, maybe – please, oh please – all three.

It didn’t last long, maybe ten seconds, but by the time Shen Wei released him Zhao Yunlan was done waiting. He reached down, grabbed two handfuls of Shen Wei’s shirt – now well beyond any respectability – and hauled him up and over him, their legs tangling.

“Inside me,” he ground out, rutting up against Shen Wei’s stomach, their cocks bumping against each other uncoordinatedly. “Now.” There was something thrilling about being completely naked when Shen Wei still had most of his clothes on, the expensive fabric of his trousers rubbing against Zhao Yunlan’s skin, almost painful against his fresh bruise.

Shen Wei nodded, kissing his way down Zhao Yunlan’s neck and chest. There was a hint of teeth, but no follow-through. Zhao Yunlan didn’t have time to be disappointed by that because Shen Wei was now kneeling between his legs, pouring lube onto his palm, diligently rubbing his fingers together to warm it up.

The first touch had Zhao Yunlan moaning, his legs falling open, hips canting up. It had been a while but he liked the burn, wouldn’t mind it if Shen Wei was a little less thorough, a little less careful with him.

He must’ve said it out loud, because Shen Wei breathed out a sharp “No”, his mouth a hot point of contact against Zhao Yunlan’s neck, body draped over his. “You are worth nothing less.”

Zhao Yunlan would’ve argued about that not quite being his point, but Shen Wei chose that moment to add a second finger, then a third one almost straight after, so perhaps the full meaning of his suggestion was received after all. The stretch of it was unbearably good, and Zhao Yunlan fucked himself down on Shen Wei’s fingers and up again, his cock dragging wetly against Shen Wei’s hip, his stomach, the coarse fabric of his trousers.

He knew he was talking, could feel his mouth moving and even hear the rising cadence of words, but he had no idea about their meaning. He didn’t much care either, because whatever it was, it seemed to work.

Shen Wei didn’t make him wait any longer, didn’t even make him beg for it any more than he probably already had. His fingers withdrew, and before Zhao Yunlan had a chance to complain about the hollow ache they left behind, he could feel Shen Wei’s cock at his entrance and then pushing in, in, all the way in one smooth stroke that made his mouth fall open, air catching in his chest. Then he did it again, and again, building a rhythm that left Zhao Yunlan writhing, hands tangling in Shen Wei’s shirt, his hair, as he hung on.

He was close within minutes, legs locked behind Shen Wei’s back, his own arching off the bed.

“Touch…” Shen Wei panted, ducking down to kiss Zhao Yunlan’s mouth, a sharp sting of teeth on his bottom lip providing a moment of clarity. “Touch yourself,” Shen Wei said, and Zhao Yunlan hadn’t realised he’d been waiting for permission until he had it, suddenly desperate for more friction on his cock.

He wriggled a hand between their bodies, fingers curling as best they could around his length, though there was not much room.

Shen Wei looked down, his hair sticking to his forehead, damp with sweat. “No,” he said, but it wasn’t a ‘stop’, more of a… “I want to see… Hold on.”

Then there was a strong arm around his back, and Shen Wei flipped them around in a move that told some interesting stories about Hei Pao Shi’s abilities in hand-to-hand combat.

Zhao Yunlan gasped, breath punched right out of him as he found himself on top, straddling Shen Wei. The new angle pressed Shen Wei’s cock even deeper inside him and he ground down on instinct, getting his knees under him as he rose, thigh muscles shaking, the drag of it almost too much.

“Better,” Shen Wei breathed, his eyes trained on Zhao Yunlan’s erection, the view now completely unimpeded.

Zhao Yunlan took himself in hand, almost sobbing at the relief of it, went to lower himself back onto Shen Wei’s cock… And found himself unable to move.

Shen Wei’s hands were clamped onto his hips, fingers fanning over his ass and digging in, spreading him even wider. He held him still, just the tip of his cock inside Zhao Yunlan, effortlessly bearing his weight.

Zhao Yunlan could have struggled. And, he thought, if he did, Shen Wei would let him go, would let him set the pace and accept whatever Zhao Yunlan chose to give.

But he had already said ‘everything’ and meant it, and so he did nothing except shiver, letting himself go heavy in Shen Wei’s grip, fingers loosely curled around his own erection. “Yeah,” he sighed, smiling even through the thick fog of lust, because this? This was Shen Wei finally just taking what he wanted for once, and Zhao Yunlan wanted, needed, to be the one thing Shen Wei was selfish about.

When he finally moved him, it was slow, achingly slow, and Zhao Yunlan choked and mewled at every agonising inch of it as Shen Wei lowered him onto his cock, then kept him there, full to the brim, until they were both sobbing from it. The second time was a little faster, the third faster still, and Zhao Yunlan imitated the rhythm with his own hand, letting Shen Wei control that too.

He lost count then, sense of time too, everything but the relentless pleasure of Shen Wei inside him, under him, holding him up, pulling him down, drinking every helpless gasp from his lips as if he was starving for it. Zhao Yunlan came like that, held in place as Shen Wei fucked him through it, hips snapping up again and again, as he shuddered and sobbed, spilling wetly over both of their stomachs, finally collapsing into Shen Wei’s unyielding grip, limp and sated.

He could feel Shen Wei faltering and managed to gather enough strength to slur, “Don’t stop, don’t you dare…” gratified when Shen Wei flipped them again, pressing Zhao Yunlan’s knee up to his chest and pushing right back in, taking his own pleasure in Zhao Yunlan’s willing body.

Shen Wei’s eyes were open when he came, almost completely black, and the emotion in them would have broken Zhao Yunlan’s heart if he hadn’t given it away already.

***


Zhao Yunlan was laughing.

It was a happy, contented sound, and Shen Wei let the rumble of it wash over him for long seconds before he thought to question the source of amusement. With a groan, he pushed himself up on his elbows, grimacing a little at the way drying sweat and come pulled at his skin. He tried to be gentle, pulling out, but Zhao Yunlan only sighed, immediately curling close.

“What is so funny?” Shen Wei asked, trying to simultaneously undo his sleeve garters – how was he still wearing most of his clothes? – and keep Zhao Yunlan’s head on his shoulder.

“Professor Shen owes me another evening of cleaning,” Zhao Yunlan said, still chuckling. “Or alternatively, the Black Cloaked Envoy needs more practice in keeping his powers in check when engaging in… leisure activities.”

Shen Wei blinked, then looked around the room. At first he couldn’t see it, by now inured to Zhao Yunlan’s messiness. Then again… He usually didn’t keep quite all his clothes on the floor, or his work papers. All of the bar stools were down too, lying on their sides. Every cupboard door, every single drawer was hanging open.

“Oh,” Shen Wei said. He could feel it now, his power filling every available space in Zhao Yunlan’s apartment, not really doing anything but there, lazy and warm, curled up like a cat in a sunbeam. “I could…” He waived a hand in the general direction of the chaos around them, but Zhao Yunlan caught it in one of his and brought it down to his mouth, kissing Shen Wei’s knuckles one by one.

“Later,” he said. “Right now there are more important things to worry about.”

“Like what?”

“Like getting you out of these clothes.” He hooked a finger under one of Shen Wei’s sleeve garters, inspecting it. “How do these even work?”

Shen Wei was happy to demonstrate. Part of him expected to get anxious, for the old uncertainties to return, because what had happened, what they had done, had only made things more complicated. But there was no space left for those here, in the messy bed, their limbs tangled together, Zhao Yunlan’s mouth pressed against his heart.

“Stay?” he asked, sometime later when they had divested Shen Wei of his clothes and gotten distracted anew. “Just for now. I know…” Zhao Yunlan didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t have to. “Just for now,” he repeated, face tilted up, smile still blinding but tinged with sadness.

“Yes,” Shen Wei said, pulling him into a kiss. “I’ll stay.” He could promise ‘everything’ but not ‘always’ and they both knew it.

‘For now’ was good enough, more than he’d ever thought possible.

Outside, the dawn spread across the city. Thin shards of light broke through the curtains, spilling over the bed and the two of them, curled around each other like petals waiting for the sun.


***

End notes: All the Chinese phrases are product of internet searches and it is entirely likely that I got something terribly wrong (I'm sure I'm mixing westernised spelling styles but not confident enough to attempt to change anything). Please do let me know so I can correct any plunders. The interwebs suggest...

měi lì = beautiful
piào liang = pretty
xiānsheng = Mr/Sir, polite title for males
Xiao MeiNan = 'little beauty boy', nickname/endearment for a boyfriend
Xiao NenRou = 'little fresh meat', nickname/endearment for a boyfriend

 

***