dance for me [xiao zhan x wang yibo]

whisper of the snow

Xiao Zhan tried to twist out of Yibo’s grip, but the man’s hold remained gentle yet unyielding, simply supporting him so he wouldn’t fall. He was trembling, but Yibo didn’t say anything, just watched him with those dead, dark eyes that seemed to see right through him, an almost imperceptible flicker of something more, something that made Xiao Zhan’s skin prickle.

When he finally managed to stand back on his own legs, Yibo didn’t take his hand off of his waist, didn’t step back to give him space. He stood right where he was, in front of Xiao Zhan, close enough that their breaths brushed against each other’s skin. Xiao Zhan could smell the strong pheromones coming from him—burning wood with a hint of cinnamon. His hand was hot on his waist. He would have laughed if the situation weren’t so intense. Cinnamon. He would have never guessed cinnamon. He wondered if Yibo could smell him too. He was told he smelled like strawberries. A lot.

He said nothing, but his gaze was piercing, assessing. Xiao Zhan felt a shiver run down his spine, unsure if it was still entirely from fear or something else. He was frozen in place, unable to move.

After a few seconds, something flashed in Yibo’s eyes—a look of guilt. It went away as quickly as it appeared in his dark eyes. He took his hand off him, and the ghost of warmth where his hand had been made shivers run down Xiao Zhan’s spine.

Xiao Zhan wondered why the man looked at him that way. He was sent here to be the subject of his sexual desires, yet this man looked at him like this when all he had done was an innocent hold of his waist.

Clearing his throat, Xiao Zhan went to take the hoodie off. Before he went for it, he looked at the man.

”Still wanna check?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

The man gave him a look of surprise,(not really but deep inside his eyes Xiao Zhan could see the pure shock that he tried to hide under the steel in his almost black eyes) his usually cold eyes softening for a moment, almost like a pair of surprised puppy eyes. Taking the man’s silence as a yes, Xiao Zhan steeled himself and pulled the hoodie over his head. The cool air of the room hit his skin, causing a shiver to run down his spine.

His chest and arms were revealed, the bruises standing out starkly against his pale skin. The most prominent one was on his arm, right where he had been grabbed and dragged. The man’s eyes flicked over the marks, his expression unreadable, but Xiao Zhan noticed a flicker of something—maybe anger, maybe regret.

Yibo ghosted his fingers over Xiao Zhan’s bruises, as if he was dying to touch but didn’t. Like his fingers would burn if he touched.
“They did this to you in that place?” he asked, sounding almost as neutral as ever if not for the low growl in his throat that Xiao Zhan was certain he heard.

“No, I got these while I was dancing. I fell. I used to be a ballet dancer” Xiao Zhan answered quickly. Maybe it was his omega instincts that made him want to calm the man down. The smell of his pheromones grew stronger by the second. He wasn’t looking at him anymore; he was looking outside to the garden again. It was beginning to snow again.

The room they were in was grand, with high ceilings adorned with intricate moldings. A crystal chandelier hung above them, casting a soft glow over the room. Expensive-looking paintings lined the walls, and a large, ornate mirror reflected the flickering light from the fireplace. The furniture was luxurious but had a cold, impersonal feel, much like Yibo himself. The massive bed was made with precision, its dark sheets and plush pillows looking untouched.