My angel will judge me.

part 30

Wang Apartment - Morning

Yibo was already halfway to the door, one hand pressed to his side, every step a small wince. He favored his left leg, moving with a stiff, awkward limp.

"Hey-stop." Wang Ji's voice cut through the hallway. He looked up from the armchair, brows drawn. "Why are you limping like that?"

Yibo froze, panic flaring across his face. "I-" he stammered, trying to sound casual. "I slipped in the shower last night. I banged my leg. It hurts, that's all."

Wang Ji folded his arms, not fully convinced. His gaze landed on Yibo's collar, the too-high neckline, the way he'd wrapped himself like someone hiding more than cold. He didn't like the tightness at the back of his throat.

"You're at an age I was once at," Wang Ji said slowly, voice cooler than before. "Tell me the truth-did you spend last night with someone?"

Yibo's face flamed. He straightened, outrage flaring in a defensive bark. "Deda-how could you even imagine that about me? I'll never be- I'll never be a bottom! I'm always- I'm the top!" He jabbed a finger at the air as if that could puncture the suspicion.

He rushed through the excuses, words tumbling. "I stayed home last night, honestly. I didn't go anywhere. Are you saying a ghost had sex with me while I slept? Is that why I'm limping?"

Wang Ji's mouth twitched-part amusement, part exasperation. He stepped closer, voice low and firm. "Cut the nonsense. Even if you were at home, you don't walk around like that in high summer. Where are you going now?"

Yibo squared his shoulders, trying for bravado and landing somewhere between a growl and a pout. "I'm going to meet Xuan. "

Of course he lied. He's going to the xiao office now, especially to consult with that bastard, to fight with him, to find out why he did all this to yibo last night.

Wang Ji watched him go, a long slow breath leaving his chest.

Wang Ji shook his head and let the worry settle where it would. He went into the kitchen and set about cooking with steady hands, the small rituals somehow calming him. When the meal was ready he packed it neatly, showered, dressed, and called the driver. If the household needed him away for a while, he would go - but he left a box of food on the counter, as if any small comfort might be needed later.

.

.

.

.

At the office, the building hummed with the late-morning quiet. Sean sat at his desk, files open but attention inward, when a knock sounded on the door.

"Come in," he said, voice low.

Yibo pushed the door open and limped in, face flushed with anger. He crossed the room in two long, uneven strides and hurled the accusation like a thrown thing.

"You bastard," he shout. "I won't forgive you. I won't let this go."

Sean didn't even look surprised. He watched Yibo's uneven gait with a slow, satisfied smile. "You look good limping like that," he said, the praise soft and dangerous.

Yibo's anger rose up raw and functional. "You-what did you do to me? Why did you-? You took advantage of me while I was asleep. You used me. We agreed on a kiss - nothing more. You had no right."

Sean's smile clipped into something colder, amused.""Oh? So you came to fight!!! I thought you came to give me the kiss of our agreement." He leaned back in his chair, calm as if the whole world were a game he'd been given to play.

Yibo snorted. " You ! Shameless, after doing all these things to me, how do you think I will keep this agreement now?"

Sean rose. He moved toward Yibo slowly, deliberately, and the air between them shifted. Yibo tried to step back, but his balance faltered. In that half-step, Sean was on him-hands quick, one at his waist, steadying him, the other at the small of his back, pulling him in.