Yao Ziyang thought as he watched Dong Yingming eat. The silence that encapsulated the room was comfortable and warm. Neither had to speak to enjoy the other's presents. Just by having one by the other, it was as if nothing in this world could ever go wrong.
Yao Ziyang thought as he watched Dong Yingming eat. The silence that encapsulated the room was comfortable and warm. Neither had to speak to enjoy the other's presents. Just by having one by the other, it was as if nothing in this world could ever go wrong.
After finishing his meal, Dong Yingming stacked the plates and bowls neatly and took them to the door where a guard swiftly carried them away. Yao Ziyang couldn't believe this was a prison. What kind of prisoner is able to freely open his own cell door and order guards to clean up said prisoners' dishes?
Though, before traveling over, he had never gone to prison. He had watched and read plenty of crime related dramas and knew this wasn't right! Plus, there was common sense...
Perhaps it was because Dong Yingming had a lot of money and power, he was able to get away with doing nearly anything? None of this was stated in the novel! Yao Ziyang seriously felt like pulling out his hair from stress. However, he had to give credit to the original Yao Ziyang. That scumbag was a really shitty person, but even he had to admit the original had good taste when it came to choosing a man as a sugar daddy!
Yao Ziyang felt a sense of bliss when he thought of all the benefits he would get to enjoy now that he's the one in charge of the body. Gazing at Dong Yingming's approaching figure, Yao Ziyang couldn't help himself from admiring the man's body once more. He really couldn't wait to savor every inch of that monster hidden in the other's pants. Swallowing down the rising drool, Yao Ziyang licks his lips discreetly, a plan brewing in his dirty mind.
Dong Yingming walks to his dresser, oblivious to the potential danger behind him, and slips out of his casual prison jumper, leaving on the high-end white t-shirt and boxers that lay beneath. Giving it some serious consideration, Dong Yingming decides for the sake of Yao Ziyang's health and his own sanity, he'd best wear pajama bottoms. After some digging, he managed to find new black plaid pajama pants and swiftly put them on.
Climbing into bed, Dong Yingming ensures Yao Ziyang is completely covered with the blanket and duvet before settling himself under the covers. After a few moments, Yao Ziyang enacts his plan. Under the dimly lit cover of the night, he shimmies over towards Dong Yingming's left side. He was on a mission tonight! Last time, he only got a taste of Dong Yingming's hard meat. This time, he was determined to get ravaged by it.
Just as Dong Yingming was going to shut off the reading lamp, Yao Ziyang quietly reached out his hand and began to caress Dong Yingming's forearm. Moving in slightly more, until his chest touched warm skin, Yao Ziyang attempts to blow air onto the crook of this man's neck. Dong Yingming froze just as his fingers touched the lamp's button.
The room was quiet, lit only by the soft amber glow of a bedside lamp. Yao Ziyang's cheeks flushed not just from the fever but from the presence of the man beside him—tall, broad-shouldered, sharp-eyed. A man who ruled with cold precision, but whose hands now trembled ever so slightly as they hovered just above their only source of light.
Dong Yingming sat up at the edge of the bed, his jaw tight, eyes burning with something he didn't dare act on. After a moment, he reached out, brushing a few strands of damp hair from Yao Ziyang's forehead. His fingers lingered longer than they should. Dong Yingming's shoulders tensed like he was holding the weight of a war he hadn't yet named.
On the bed, Yao Ziyang pushed back the covers just enough to sit upright, cheeks still flushed from the fever, but his eyes — sharp, glittering — locked onto the older man with intent. He was smaller by comparison, but there was nothing timid about the way he looked at Dong Yingming right now.
"You've done so much for me, Brother Dong. If I don't return the favor, won't you come to hate me?"
Yao Ziyang spoke softly, his voice hoarse but steady. Clutching onto Dong Yingming's arm, unwilling to let go, he continued.
"I wouldn't be able to bear it. Please, enjoy yourself to your hearts content."
Yao Ziyang moved to sit close—too close for things to stay simple. The air between them felt even more charged, like something waiting to break. Their eyes locked. One pair, dark and smoldering with restrained desire; the other, wide and aching, silently daring the other to let loose.
"You don't know what you're asking."
Dong Yingming said, his voice rough, deep with restraint. The room was dim and still, heavy with the kind of silence that says everything without a single word. He turned away slowly, jaw tightening.
"You're still recovering -"
"But I'm not broken, and I know you want me."
Yao Ziyang quickly retorted, unwilling to accept the other's rejection. He did his best to pull Dong Yingming around to face him. With Dong Yingming's cooperation, he managed just that. Yao Ziyang looked up at him—eyes wide, lips parted, full of want and trust. He didn't need to say anything. His gaze did all the pleading.
Dong Yingming leaned in closer, letting his lips graze the edge of the younger man's temple. He exhaled a shaky breath.
"You're sick."
He murmured.
"You need rest. Not this."
But even as he said it, his thumb brushed over Yao Ziyang's lower lip, gentle, reverent. He didn't take what he wanted, no matter how much he craved it. Slowly, carefully, he let his hands soothe, caress, and offer comfort without crossing the line he'd drawn. His touches were featherlight across fevered skin—knuckles against a flushed cheek, a palm across the chest, steadying the trembling breaths. He pressed a kiss, chaste and tender, to Yao Ziyang's forehead.
"I'll take care of you."
He said, his voice quieter now.
"No matter what you want. But not until you're stronger. Not until I can have all of you, the way you deserve."
And with that, he laid the both of them back down onto bed, pulling back up the covers, Dong Yingming tucked Yao Ziyang in once more. He was obviously holding back his burning fire with sheer will, choosing care over desire—because in that moment, love meant patience.
However, this did not apply to Yao Ziyang, who was a man on a mission and wouldn't take no for an answer. Before traveling over, he had been with many men but spent the last 5 years alone to 'work on himself'. Had he'd known he would transmigrate yet be unable to sleep with anyone, he wouldn't have stayed abstinent for so long! This was a classic case of 'you tell me I can't do something, now I want to do it!'
Yao Ziyang didn't believe his charms have gone rusty after taking a break for so long. The proof was obvious! Dong Yingming clearly wanted him, even admitted to it out loud himself! He's merely a little sick, surely that wouldn't stop Dong Yingming from touching him, right?
While it was sweet and endearing, Yao Ziyang was mostly frustrated from being pent up! He needed this more than the other man, and Gods be damn if he's going to allow some silly cold to prevent him from experiencing a happy ending!
Dong Yingming paid little attention to the scheming minx in his arms. Thinking the matter has been resolved, he shuts off the light with no problems and scoots Yao Ziyang closer to him, in his arms. There was no thought or ulterior motivate behind this action. He merely wanted the younger man to be in his arms as he slept.
Yao Ziyang's face flushed to the point his ears turned red. This man was clearly trying to annoy him on purpose! Since that was the case, Yao Ziyang had no qualms of leveling the playing field. With some delicate maneuvering of his arm, he got it free from inside the tight embrace. Taking his hand, he blindly reaches for Dong Yingming's face, unknowingly tracing over the scar that painted his right cheek.
Dong Yingming's hand shot up and caught Yao Ziyang's wrist, not hard, but firm. His gaze was piercing, and under what little light the full moon provided, it gave a sense of danger and warning. However, this doesn't deter Yao Ziyang but pushes him to go even further.
He had always loved the fierce looking type, but Dong Yingming was different. Undeniably wild yet right now, he was incredibly soft. He couldn't hold back and had even begun to stroke the scar lovingly. The rustling of sheets echoed in the still cell as Yao Ziyang moved closer to Dong Yingming's face. In a soft, wanting tone, he whispers to the man.
"I want you to stop holding back. Just for a moment."
"You don't know what you're doing."
Dong Yingming replies, voice low, gravel-thick.
"I do."
Yao Ziyang hushed back, leaning in.