Unspoken Lessons - Oneshot

Story

It was one of those quiet, rainy evenings on campus when Xiao Zhan stayed late in his office. The dull hum of the rain against the window soothed his nerves after a long day of lecturing. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples, when a soft knock on the door interrupted the peaceful silence.

“Come in,” Xiao Zhan called, assuming it was one of his students. He sat up straight, adjusting his glasses, preparing himself for yet another discussion about grades or an overdue assignment.

The door creaked open, and Wang Yibo stepped inside. He looked as he always did—disheveled, rebellious, and confident, yet there was something different in his eyes tonight. Something vulnerable.

Xiao Zhan’s heart skipped a beat, but he kept his composure. "Wang Yibo. I didn’t expect you to show up for office hours, especially not after skipping class this week."

Wang Yibo shut the door behind him and walked in with his usual swagger, his black leather jacket dripping rainwater onto the polished floor. “I didn’t come to talk about class.”

Xiao Zhan raised an eyebrow, masking the unease that crept into his chest. “Then why are you here?”

For a moment, Wang Yibo said nothing. He just stood there, his eyes locked on Xiao Zhan’s. The tension between them was palpable. Xiao Zhan felt the air thicken, as if the weight of their unspoken feelings was pressing down on the small office.

“I’ve been thinking,” Wang Yibo finally said, his voice low and unsteady. “About…us.”

Xiao Zhan’s breath caught in his throat. He had been careful, so careful, to keep their interactions professional. But there had been moments—late nights discussing literature, their shared passion for art—that blurred the lines. He had convinced himself it was harmless. But seeing Wang Yibo now, standing in front of him with a look of uncertainty that didn't belong on the face of the brash young man he knew, made everything feel real.

“Yibo,” Xiao Zhan began, his voice soft, warning, “you know this is—”

“Wrong?” Wang Yibo interrupted, stepping closer. “Is that what you’re going to say? That this is wrong?”

Xiao Zhan stood, keeping the desk between them as if it could protect him from what was about to happen. “You’re my student,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “There are rules—”

Wang Yibo scoffed. “Rules. Always rules with you. What about what we feel?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and full of meaning. Xiao Zhan didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t deny the attraction. He had felt it for months now, pulling at him like a magnetic force, something neither of them could control. But he was a professor, and Wang Yibo was a student. This could ruin them both.

“This isn’t a game, Yibo,” Xiao Zhan said, his voice firm though his resolve was weakening. “I could lose everything. You could lose everything.”

Wang Yibo crossed the room in a few long strides, coming to stand just inches away from him. Xiao Zhan could feel the heat radiating off his body, could smell the rain on his clothes. It made his heart race.

“I don’t care about that,” Wang Yibo said softly, his eyes searching Xiao Zhan’s. “I care about you. You’re all I think about.”

Xiao Zhan swallowed hard, looking away, but Wang Yibo’s hand came up to gently turn his face back, forcing him to meet his gaze. There was no arrogance in Wang Yibo’s eyes now, no playful smirk. Just raw, unfiltered emotion.

“I’ve tried to stay away,” Wang Yibo continued, his voice almost a whisper now. “But I can’t. And I don’t think you can either.”

Xiao Zhan closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to stay strong. But the warmth of Wang Yibo’s hand against his skin, the intensity of his words, was breaking down every wall he had built around himself. He was tired of pretending, tired of pushing his feelings away.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and met Wang Yibo’s gaze. “You have no idea what you’re asking,” he whispered.

Wang Yibo’s expression softened. “I’m asking you to stop hiding. To stop pretending you don’t feel the same.”

And in that moment, Xiao Zhan couldn’t pretend anymore. The tension, the unspoken words, the months of longing all culminated into this single moment. Without another word, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Wang Yibo’s, the kiss gentle at first, hesitant, as if testing the waters. But when Wang Yibo responded, deepening the kiss, the floodgates opened.

It was everything Xiao Zhan had been holding back—passion, desire, fear, all mixed into one overwhelming kiss. He felt Wang Yibo’s arms wrap around him, pulling him closer, and for the first time in months, Xiao Zhan let himself feel. He let himself be selfish, just for a moment.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them breathless, Wang Yibo rested his forehead against Xiao Zhan’s. “See?” he whispered. “It’s not wrong.”

Xiao Zhan chuckled softly, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “It doesn’t make it any easier.”

Wang Yibo smiled, that cocky, self-assured grin making a return. “I never said it would be easy. But nothing worth having ever is.”

Before Xiao Zhan could respond, there was another knock on the door. Both of them froze, the reality of their situation crashing down around them.

Xiao Zhan stepped back quickly, smoothing his shirt, trying to compose himself. “Come in,” he called, his voice strained.

The door opened to reveal Professor Zhou, a colleague and family friend who had known Xiao Zhan since childhood. “Xiao Zhan, I was wondering if you—” He paused, his eyes flicking between the two of them, his gaze lingering a bit too long on Wang Yibo, whose flushed face gave everything away.

“I’ll come back later,” Professor Zhou said, a knowing smile tugging at his lips before he disappeared as quickly as he had come.

Wang Yibo laughed softly, and Xiao Zhan shook his head. “This is going to be a disaster, isn’t it?”

Wang Yibo grinned. “Probably. But I’ll be right there with you.”

Xiao Zhan looked at him, the weight of what they were risking hanging heavily between them. But as Wang Yibo reached out and took his hand, Xiao Zhan felt a strange sense of peace. Maybe this wasn’t the path he had planned, but for the first time in a long while, it felt like the right one.

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**The End.**