Chen Huan's eyes fluttered open slowly. His head pressed against a solid wall of muscles. Qin Tiewei's heartbeat thrummed steadily beneath his ears.
Fuck, he's cuddling me. How did this happen?
His own pulse quickened. He wanted to run his hand on that chest. Trace every bump and crevice of it, but a sudden fear settled. If he moved, Qin Tiewei might wake, and this moment could disappear. Just staying like this is enough for me.
With a contented sigh, he buried his face deeper into Qin Tiewei's chest and drifted back to sleep.
***
Qin Tiewei woke to soft morning light hitting his eyes. He squinted at the small grid of holes high on the wall. Is that supposed to be an extra window? He'd never seen anything like it before. That line of reasoning made sense since the room had just one tiny window.
As he shifted his weight, he realized Chen Huan was curled up against him like a particularly content cat. In sleep, he looked even more vulnerable. Even more delicate. Softer. He shifted closer. His lashes are so long. His lips were parted slightly. They're so–
His hardness pressed against his boxers.
Oh, you've got to be kidding me.
As if to confirm, he reached down to touch it. There it was–firm and steady. For a man? That's a first.
He glanced back at Chen Huan's peaceful face. Him? With all his bad qualities that make you want to lobotomize yourself? He sighed, still in disbelief. I'm disappointed in you.
With surgical precision, he gently eased himself from the bed. He couldn't let Chen Huan see him in this state.
Chen Huan stirred, jolted awake by the sudden absence of warmth. Qin Tiewei was already dressed, seated on the plastic chair, legs spread, scrolling through his phone in sharp, quick strokes. Did he really cuddle me, or was that a dream? It had to be a dream. "Good morning, President Qin?"
Qin Tiewei's heartbeat skipped at the sudden sound. Is his voice always that soft, or is it just because it's morning? He calls me 'President Qin,' and it feels so intimate. "Qin Tiewei."
"What?"
"Call me Qin Tiewei."
Chen Huan's lips curled into a small smile. "Isn't that too informal?"
Now you have respect?
Chen Huan glanced at a small clock with the face of a dog on the wall. "It's so early, President Qin. It's barely 7. Why are you already dressed?"
"Why aren't you? The drive from here to the city is more than thirty minutes. Work resumes at 8."
Chen Huan ran a hand along his neck. He's still the same person.
"You just… get up whenever you want and blame it on traffic?" His mind wandered back to the erection that had managed to subside. This is who you're getting hard for?
Chen Huan sighed. "About your car… My neighbor makes a living fixing cars. He's very nice. I'm sure he would loan or sell you a battery."
"I already handled it."
"Oh, okay!" Chen Huan was sure the disappointment in his face was palpable. This was his one chance to play knight in shining armor to Qin Tiewei.
"Go get ready."
"What?"
"For work."
Chen Huan sighed and grabbed his towel. At least, we're going in together. Shared a bed, cuddled, now this… We're basically a married couple.
He stepped out a few minutes later, towel tied around his waist, chest bare—water dripping off it. His breath was shaky, and he trembled slightly, but he knew what he was doing. We had so many movie scenes moments yesterday alone—one more can't hurt.
His mind reeled with possibilities. Maybe Qin Tiewei would glance up at him, startled. He might reach out for him, pull the towel away, and take him; on the bed they'd shared the previous night.
Fuck, Chen Huan! You're delusional. He chided himself, but shrugged. Whatever happens, happens.
Except it wasn't Qin Tiewei in the chair.
An older man looked up instead—trim suit, lined face, eyes sharp.
Chen Huan froze, blood rushing to his cheeks. "Who the fuck are you?"
The man's gaze dragged from his head to his toes. "I'm President Qin's driver."
"Oh!" Chen Huan scrambled to get dressed. "Where's President Qin?"
"Gone."
"Uh?"
"He gave me strict instructions to take you straight to the office."
"Oh!" Fuck, Chen Huan. You really are delusional.
"But not before you've had breakfast." The driver held out a bento box to Chen Huan.
Chen Huan blinked. "For me?"
The man nodded. "He says he won't be in his office today, but to make yourself comfortable when you get there. Don't make a mess. And ask Xiaowen if you need anything."
He lifted the lid from the bento gently. Neatly arranged rice, eggs, vegetables, a slice of fruit. Ordinary. Thoughtful. His chest tightened. Breakfast. His office. His secretary. We're basically married.