Sold to the Yiling Patriarch ✔️(a Yizhan Omegaverse AU Fanfic)

Lesson 7: Yibo is not a Morning Person

Yibo woke before the sun had set, still not used to being completely nocturnal. And though his mind felt clearer than it had since he'd arrived, that just meant the memories of last night - of all the previous nights - were even more unpleasant.

He'd humiliated himself. He'd begged the Yiling Patriarch to fuck him! Maybe the first time could be explained away... but not the second. Or the third. 

But who knew it would feel so good? Just thinking about it made him shudder. Every time Zhan drank from him or filled him up and hit that sweet spot inside him... he'd lost all sense of who he was. In those moments, he'd known only the pleasure Zhan was bringing him.

He slung his arm across his eyes. Maybe it was good neither his uncle nor his brother could see how low he'd sunk.

He felt Zhan stir, and a wave of panic hit. He lowered his arm and forced himself to look over. But the Yiling Patriarch wasn't awake; he'd just moved a bit closer.

Yibo sighed and took the opportunity to study him. To his surprise, naked in bed next to him, the Yiling Patriarch didn't look evil or fearsome. Yibo took in his fair skin, heart-shaped lips complete with that sinful beauty mark, and long, sooty lashes that dusted his cheeks when he slept. For some reason, Yibo's hand snuck out and weaved through Zhan's hair.  

Zhan rolled closer, wrapping an arm around him and snuggling into his chest.

Yibo really wanted to die. How could the same evil bastard who'd had him tied to his bed for the last ten days now be snuggling him?

And, more importantly, how could he be liking it? He wasn't, he told himself. But his wolf definitely liked it.

He was beginning to think his wolf had lost its mind the night of the attack. Maybe they both had. Nothing else made sense.

Most certainly not the way he was watching Zhan smile in his sleep.

Or the fact that he was smiling down at him like a big idiot.

Do you know anything about this? he asked his wolf. Or are you still not talking to me?

For a long time, it said nothing. Yibo could feel how content it was. Traitor.

He's good for us, his wolf said finally. You should give in to him.

Give in to him?  Yibo demanded. Just what do you think I did all last night? How much more can I give in? 

Yibo was pondering his wolf's crappy advice when he felt Zhan stir beside him. Fingers tightened against his ribcage, and Zhan's chin moved to rest on his chest. 

Yibo schooled his features and looked down at him, his breath catching at the mega-watt smile on his lover's face.

His lover? No, that was stupid. He was a prisoner. This was just... Stockholm Syndrome. Wasn't that a thing?

Does that mean you have feelings for him? his wolf asked.

Shut up, Yibo told it. Just shut up. I do not.

Zhan didn't say anything, just stretched out, moving up Yibo's body until his lips hovered over Yibo's own.

Then he kissed him. And it was the slowest, gentlest, most intimate thing Yibo had yet experienced. He didn't even respond at first, thinking it was just a good morning peck. But Zhan's lips were warm, and when he repeated the gesture, Yibo returned it, curious. 

Then Zhan bent to nuzzle his neck and behind his ear, making his wolf a little giddy.

When his mouth returned to Yibo's, Yibo and his wolf both kissed back, enjoying the slow exploration of Zhan's mouth and tongue. 

Yibo had only been kissed a few times before and never like this. Never like there was nothing his lover would rather be doing for the next few hours than kissing him. 

He lost track of how long their mouths were joined together. He'd clutched onto Zhan's shoulders at some point, but not in an urgent way. And that scared him more than anything.

When Zhan finally pulled back, he stared at Yibo for a few moments, blinking as if he were also surprised. Then his smile reappeared - not the scary one, but the really dangerous, innocent one -  and he pecked Yibo on the tip of his nose and said "good morning."

For some reason, that put Yibo over the edge. He sat up, ignoring the soreness in his lower body, and pushed Zhan away. "Don't do that," he spat out, feeling his heartbeat go into overdrive the moment his hand touched Zhan's chest. "Don't be... nice."

Zhan's smile dimmed, and Yibo felt he'd hurt him somehow. But that was ridiculous. He was just a plaything to the Yiling Patriarch. A prisoner.

"Right," Zhan said, rolling away from Yibo. "Well, there are things I must do."

Yibo didn't want to know what kept the Yiling Patriarch busy. He really didn't. He got up slowly, anticipating more pain than there actually was. 

Zhan watched him but didn't speak. Then he got out of bed, grabbed a black silk robe, quickly tied it, and headed into the other room. "Get dressed and see yourself out," he said, closing the door.

Yibo blinked. After a moment of feeling confounded that Zhan had done what he asked, he found his clothes had at some point last night been folded and put neatly onto a chair.