Chapter Text
Their dynamic shifted seamlessly, as if their hearts had been waiting for the unspoken agreement to fall into place. It was in the way they gravitated toward each other during breaks, Guangyao’s laughter brighter and more carefree wherever Xichen was around, and the way Xichen’s eyes sparkled with quiet joy whenever he spotted Guangyao waiting for him by the fountain near the economics building. They had fallen into an easy rhythm, blending the familiar comfort of their old routine with the new thrill of stolen kisses and the shared electricity that hummed between them.
Their study sessions still took place in the far corner of the library, where the scent of old books mingled with Guangyao’s sweet fragrance that Xichen found more intoxicating with each passing day. They would spread out their notes and textbooks, quizzing each other and exchanging knowing smiles that hinted at memories of recent late-night rendezvous. But now, there were moments when the space between them felt almost unbearably close. Their hands would brush while reaching for the same pen, and Xichen would pause, watching the way Guangyao’s cheeks flushed, eyes flickering up before focusing back on his notes with a coy smile.
Outings to festivals and cafés continued as before, only now there was a playful edge to their banter that spoke of inside jokes and shared secrets. Xichen would sometimes pull Guangyao aside, leading him to quieter streets where he’d press a soft kiss to his lips, whispering, “You deserve more than this campus, you know. More than whispers and shadows.”
And Guangyao, for his part, would grin, a light dancing in his eyes. “I’m happy here, with you,” he’d say, grounding them both in the simplicity of that moment.
Their friends started to notice, of course. Mingjue raised an eyebrow when he caught sight of the way Xichen would place a protective hand on Guangyao’s lower back, guiding him through crowds. The others would tease them relentlessly, nudging Xichen about his hypocrisy in dating someone younger after his previous strong opinions. Xichen took the teasing with good-natured grace, grinning and shrugging it off while shooting Guangyao, a look that made the younger man’s heart pound.
It was during one of their conversations over coffee, when Guangyao mentioned offhandedly, “You know, I only turned 18 a month after university started,” that Xichen had nearly choked on his drink. The realization struck him like lightning—he hadn’t been dating someone questionably young after all. He’d gone through weeks of guilt-ridden lectures from his conscience, side-glancing at Guangyao while internally debating the ethics of his feelings. The sudden knowledge had left him gaping, utterly dumbfounded, and elicited an uncontrollable fit of laughter from Guangyao, who found Xichen’s dramatic overthinking endearing.
But what Xichen cherished most was that nothing essential between them had changed. They were still study buddies, still two people who could debate for hours over the most mundane topics or share quiet afternoons immersed in their own work. Only now, those moments came with stolen glances that spoke of promises and the certainty that when the world quieted down, there would be more shared kisses and whispered confessions, wrapped in the warmth of their newfound intimacy.
It began with whispers. At first, they were easy for Guangyao to ignore, just the kind of idle chatter he had grown accustomed to since he’d first stepped onto the university grounds. But slowly, those whispers evolved—sharpened, found their way into his bones. “Look at him, acting all high and mighty with Lan Xichen. Bet he’s just using him.” “Doesn’t he know his place? He’s just the son of a prostitute.”
Guangyao’s façade didn’t falter, not at first. He clung to the warm memories of stolen moments with Xichen: the teasing conversations, the way Xichen’s eyes would light up when he laughed, the heated, breathless kisses exchanged when they found themselves alone. But even those memories couldn’t drown out the weight of other people’s judgments.
Then Lan Qiren returned, and things began to spiral.
They met one evening in the corridor outside the economics department. The hallway was quiet, the echo of footsteps a muted beat against polished floors. Guangyao was carrying a stack of papers when he noticed the older man, his silver hair tied back in its customary fashion, sharp eyes zeroing in on him with laser precision. He swallowed, dipping his head respectfully as they passed, but Qiren did not continue walking. Instead, he halted, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.
“You must be Jin Guangyao.”
Guangyao turned, heart thumping. “Yes, sir. Good evening.”
Qiren regarded him for a moment, his gaze sweeping over Guangyao with a cool, appraising look. “I had hoped my nephew would have better judgment. I see now that was wishful thinking.”
The words were like a slap, but Guangyao kept his face impassive, fingers tightening around the stack of papers. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean, sir.”
“Oh, I think you do.” Qiren’s tone was laced with an authority that made Guangyao feel small, like a child caught in an act of defiance. “You’ve played your part well, attaching yourself to Lan Xichen, but don’t mistake indulgence for acceptance. Whatever fantasy you believe you’re living, I assure you, it won’t last. The Lans do not consort with those who bring shame to their name. You should remember your place.”
Each word sunk in deeper than the last, clawing through the thin veneer of confidence Guangyao had stitched together over the months. He bowed again, more out of habit than respect, and when he straightened, Lan Qiren had already turned away, his footsteps disappearing into the distance.
By the time Guangyao reached the library, his mind was a storm. Every glance from a passerby felt weighted, every soft whisper or giggle amplified in his ears. They’re all watching. They all know. You’re just a temporary amusement to him, the voices taunted. It didn’t matter how many moments of genuine affection they had shared, how many conversations had stretched late into the night filled with laughter and secrets. The doubt twisted those memories, warping them into a cruel game that he was destined to lose.
He sat down across from Xichen, who immediately noticed the shadow in his eyes. “Hey, are you okay?” Xichen’s voice was warm, laced with concern, but in that moment, it only made the ache sharper.
“I’m fine,” Guangyao lied, turning his attention to the papers he spread out before him. The air between them was taut, the silence heavier than usual. Xichen’s brows furrowed as he studied Guangyao’s profile, the tension evident in the omega’s tightly held posture.
“Guangyao,” Xichen pressed, his voice softer, “talk to me. What’s wrong?”
Something in Guangyao snapped. Maybe it was the earnestness in Xichen’s eyes, or perhaps it was the weight of pretending that everything was fine when it wasn’t. “What’s wrong?” he echoed, a bitter laugh slipping out. “What’s wrong is that I was foolish enough to believe I could be more than a passing whim for someone like you.”
Xichen’s eyes widened, hurt flashing across his face. “What? Where is this coming from?”
“Don’t act surprised!” Guangyao’s voice cracked, the emotions he’d tried to suppress clawing their way out. “Do you think I don’t hear what people say? That I don’t know how ridiculous this looks? The perfect alpha heir and the son of a prostitute. Even your uncle sees it—sees me —as nothing more than a stain on your reputation.”
Xichen’s expression hardened, realization dawning. “Is this about my uncle? Did he say something to you?” His scent shifted, tinged with anger and protectiveness.
Guangyao looked away, unable to bear the intensity in Xichen’s eyes. “It’s not just him. It’s everyone, Xichen. They’re all waiting for the moment when you come to your senses and realize this was a mistake.”
“I don’t care about them!” Xichen said, frustration breaking through his usually calm demeanor. “I choose you, Guangyao. I chose you because you are intelligent, kind, resilient—because you make me feel alive in ways no one else ever has.”
“Stop,” Guangyao whispered, tears welling in his eyes. “Stop saying things that make me want to believe you.”
Xichen reached out, his fingers trembling as they brushed against Guangyao’s. “I mean every word. I don’t care about my uncle or anyone else. I care about you. ”
For a moment, neither of them moved, suspended between hope and despair. But the voices in Guangyao’s head were louder, the doubt heavier, and he pulled his hand back, the loss of contact like a physical wound.
“I can’t do this,” he said, his voice breaking. “I can’t be the one who ruins your life.”
Before Xichen could respond, Guangyao stood and walked away, leaving behind the scent of sorrow and the shattered pieces of their unspoken dreams.
The morning sun filtered through gauzy curtains as Lan Xichen stepped into the family house, a place that, despite its grandeur, felt oppressive that day. The air was thick with tension, the quiet halls more like the walls of a fortress closing in on him. The unease coiled in his stomach, tightening with each step until he reached the room where Lan Qiren sat, ever composed with his papers and scrolls neatly arranged.
“Uncle,” Xichen called out, his voice taut, a note of restraint barely keeping him in check.
Lan Qiren looked up, his eyes as sharp and discerning as ever. “Xichen, you’re here early. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
The pleasantries grated against Xichen’s fraying patience. “I need to know why you spoke to Jin Guangyao yesterday. What did you say to him?”
Qiren’s expression remained neutral, his fingers interlaced as he leaned back in his chair. “I spoke to him because it was necessary. Someone had to remind him of his place.”
Rage flared in Xichen’s chest, sudden and consuming. “Remind him of his place?” he echoed, incredulous. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? How could you interfere without even considering what this would do to me—to us?”
Lan Qiren’s gaze hardened, a spark of disapproval in his eyes. “You’re blinded by sentiment, Xichen. It was only a matter of time before reality caught up to you both. That boy is not suitable for a Lan. His presence, his background—it diminishes you, and by extension, all of us.”
Xichen’s breath came in shallow gasps, his body trembling as if every word splintered inside him. “Diminishes?” The word was venom on his tongue. “You think that someone’s worth is determined by where they come from? Jin Guangyao is more than that. He is kind, intelligent, more resilient than anyone I know—and you had no right to tear him down!”
Qiren’s expression barely shifted, but a shadow of irritation crossed his features. “I only spoke the truth. If that truth was too much for him, then he was never strong enough to stand by your side.”
“Strong enough?” Xichen’s voice cracked, and suddenly, the room felt too small, suffocating. “Do you know what he’s been through, what he’s endured just to be here? He’s fought for every scrap of dignity, and you, with a few cruel words, made him doubt himself again. You destroyed the one thing—” He choked, unable to find the words to finish. “The one thing that made me feel alive.”
Qiren’s expression softened, but it was not with sympathy. It was the pity reserved for those who didn’t know better. “This is for the best, Xichen. Love that comes with so much complication is doomed. Better you see that now, before it drags you both into ruin.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Xichen’s chest heaved, his vision blurring at the edges as he fought to contain the rage boiling within him. When he spoke again, his voice was low, almost a whisper, carrying a weight that echoed in the stillness. “You’ve already ruined it. I hope whatever you were trying to protect is worth it, because it’s cost me more than you’ll ever understand.”
He turned abruptly, not waiting for a response, and stormed out. His pulse pounded in his ears as he slammed the front door behind him, the sound reverberating through the quiet morning. He felt hollow, like a shell that had been cracked open and left empty.
—
In the days that followed, Xichen moved through life as if in a fog. He went to lectures, attended meetings, and smiled when required, but everything was perfunctory, an act. His mind constantly wandered back to Guangyao—to the way his laughter had brightened the room, to the small, tender moments they had shared that seemed impossibly far away now. His friends noticed the change. Mingjue asked once, voice gruff with worry, “What’s going on with you, Xichen?” But all he could manage was a tight smile and a shake of his head before brushing the question aside.
Nights were worse. When he tried to sleep, he’d see Guangyao’s face etched with pain, hear the ghost of his voice cracking as he told Xichen they were better off apart. The silence of his room became a taunt, echoing with all the things he hadn’t said, all the reassurances and promises he should have made.
And the guilt gnawed at him relentlessly. Xichen knew that Guangyao’s insecurities ran deep, rooted in years of whispered insults and pointed stares. He had thought he could shield him from that, wrap them both in the quiet comfort of their love, but he’d been naïve. What good were whispered promises when the world outside was relentless in its judgment?
Guangyao’s side of the break-up was a different kind of torment. At first, he held himself together out of sheer willpower, attending classes and pretending that nothing had changed. But cracks began to form, subtle at first. He’d sit at the back of the lecture hall, his eyes glazed over as professors droned on, the words filtering through him without meaning. He avoided places where he might run into Xichen—the library, the café where they’d spent countless afternoons—and when he passed the fountain near the economics building, a tight ache settled in his chest that made it hard to breathe.
He didn’t just skip classes; he stopped going altogether, leaving his assignments half-finished or untouched. His dorm room became a refuge and a prison, the only place where he could let the tears fall freely without fear of being seen. He curled up in bed for hours, staring at the ceiling until the light outside shifted from day to night and back again, a cycle that blurred until he lost track of time.
Every knock at his door set his nerves on edge, the thought that it might be Xichen a cruel hope that never materialized.
The rumors didn’t stop, of course. If anything, they grew, feeding off his absence. He heard them even when he didn’t want to, whispers that said he’d pushed too far, reached too high, and it was only a matter of time before he came crashing back down. And perhaps the most painful part was how some small, treacherous part of him believed they were right.
—
Lan Xichen stood at the edge of the courtyard, listening to the murmur of students as they discussed assignments and plans for the weekend. It was the usual background noise of campus life, but today, a stray comment caught his attention and rooted him in place.
“Have you seen Jin Guangyao lately? He hasn’t been to any classes this week,” one student said, their tone a mix of curiosity and indifference.
“No, not since last week. Heard he’s been keeping to his room,” another replied with a shrug.
The words settled over Xichen like a lead weight. A deep, gnawing worry unfurled inside him. Guangyao hadn’t missed classes—not ever, not even when he was unwell. The thought of him alone, isolated and suffering, pierced through Xichen’s own haze of pain, igniting a sense of urgency.
Without a second thought, he pivoted and began striding toward the dorms, his heartbeat loud in his ears. He barely registered the path beneath his feet, his focus singular and sharp as he moved through the campus. He didn’t slow until he stood in front of Jin Guangyao’s door, the dull green paint worn around the edges from years of use. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he knocked.
The silence that followed was suffocating, stretching on long enough that doubt began to creep in. He knocked again, louder this time, the edge of desperation in the sound. Finally, the latch clicked, and the door opened just a crack. Dark eyes met his, wide with surprise, then quickly guarded.
“Xichen,” Guangyao said, his voice thin and cracked from disuse. He hesitated, a hand clutching the doorframe as if it were the only thing holding him up.
Xichen’s heart twisted at the sight before him. Guangyao looked diminished, his eyes rimmed with red, exhaustion etched deep into the lines of his face. He hadn’t shaved, and there was an unmistakable weariness that shadowed his usually bright gaze. The room behind him was dim and disheveled, a stark contrast to the tidy space Xichen knew.
“Guangyao,” Xichen breathed, the sound carrying both relief and sorrow. “Can I come in?”
Guangyao’s expression hardened, a shield against the vulnerability lurking beneath. “Why are you here?” His tone was guarded, defensive. “You shouldn’t be.”
Xichen clenched his jaw, a flare of frustration sparking within him. He wouldn’t let this conversation slip through his fingers, not now. “Please. We need to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Guangyao replied, eyes averted, but his voice wavered enough for Xichen to catch it. The omega tried to close the door, but Xichen’s hand shot out, holding it open with a gentle yet unyielding grip.
“No. I’m not leaving until we do,” he said firmly, stepping inside and pushing the door shut behind him. The air in the room was stifling, a mix of stale air and something unspoken that pressed against them both.
Guangyao took a step back, folding his arms around himself as though it would keep the rest of the world at bay. His eyes darted to the side, avoiding Xichen’s steady gaze. “Why now? You should have listened to your uncle, Xichen. You should have stayed away.”
“I couldn’t,” Xichen replied, his voice rough with emotion. “Not when I knew you were suffering like this. Not when I knew that I had let it happen.”
Guangyao flinched at the words, his expression flickering between disbelief and anger. “You didn’t *let* anything happen. You just… you couldn’t stand against it. And I don’t blame you for that.”
“But I blame myself,” Xichen interjected, taking a step closer, the distance between them shrinking. “I should have been there for you. I should have said something, done something—anything. I let you face it alone, and I can’t forgive myself for that.”
Tears welled in Guangyao’s eyes, and he blinked them back furiously, refusing to let them fall. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Xichen. It’s done. We’re done.”
“No, we’re not,” Xichen said, his tone both fierce and tender. He reached out but stopped short, his hand hovering between them. “Please, Guangyao. Let me fix this. Let me be there for you like I should have been.”
The words hung between them, raw and heavy. Guangyao’s composure cracked, a sob wrenching free despite his best efforts. He sank down onto the edge of the bed, his shoulders shaking with silent cries. The sight shattered whatever resolve Xichen had left, and he dropped to his knees in front of him, gently placing his hands on Guangyao’s.
“Look at me,” Xichen whispered, his voice trembling. “Please.”
After a moment, Guangyao did, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Why?” he managed, the question barely more than a breath.
“Because I love you,” Xichen said, and the truth of it seemed to light the dim room. “And I can’t stand by and watch you break when I know I can help put you back together.”
For a moment, silence reigned, broken only by the sound of Guangyao’s ragged breathing. Then, with a shudder, he leaned forward, his forehead resting against Xichen’s as tears spilled down his cheeks. Xichen’s hands tightened around his, a silent promise that he wouldn’t let go this time.
“I’m so tired,” Guangyao admitted, his voice cracking with the weight of everything he’d held inside.
“I know,” Xichen whispered back, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “But you’re not alone anymore. We’ll face this together, no matter what it takes.”
And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the room in a gentle glow, the barriers they’d both built crumbled, leaving only the fragile, honest connection between them.
—
Life after that night shifted like the slow thaw of winter giving way to spring. For weeks, Lan Xichen was a constant, grounding presence in Jin Guangyao’s life, a gentle yet unwavering force of support that held him together even when doubt and insecurity threatened to unravel him. They started small, rebuilding their days with moments that once felt so natural yet had become unfamiliar after the storm that swept through their lives.
Each morning, Xichen would wait outside Guangyao’s dorm room, a warm smile greeting him as he opened the door. It was a ritual that anchored them both, a reminder that they were not alone. He would walk Guangyao to class, their conversations ranging from light banter to quiet reassurances, with Xichen always attentive, eyes flicking over Guangyao as though trying to commit every expression to memory.
Guangyao found solace in the steady beat of their routine. Xichen’s presence made the world feel less harsh, less judgmental. The weight that had settled on his chest after their breakup began to ease, though not without effort. The initial days of returning to class were fraught with whispers and sidelong glances that stung like thorns. But with Xichen by his side, the murmurs gradually faded into the background. The alpha was openly attentive, his affection undeniable, from the way he placed a reassuring hand on Guangyao’s back to the proud smile that spread across his face whenever their eyes met.
It wasn’t just public gestures that spoke volumes; it was the little things, too. Xichen made sure they studied together, claiming a spot in the library where they could spread out their notes. He brought extra snacks and drinks, slipped gentle words of encouragement between topics, and asked thoughtful questions that showed how deeply he cared. He made Guangyao laugh, a sound that felt rusty at first, but with time, grew warmer, more genuine.
But the path to healing was not always smooth. The shadows of doubt crept in during quiet moments, gnawing at Guangyao’s confidence. Sometimes, he would withdraw, pulling back into himself with apologies that tasted bitter on his tongue. On those days, Xichen would insist on short walks through the gardens or by the lakeside, where they could talk or simply exist together, the silence between them more comforting than suffocating.
It was during these walks that Xichen gently broached the idea of seeing the school’s mental health counselor. At first, Guangyao resisted, a reflexive shiver running through him at the thought of opening up to someone else. But Xichen, ever patient, framed it differently.
“It’s not just for you,” he’d said one evening, their hands linked as they sat under a sprawling oak tree. “It’s for us. I want you to feel as strong as I know you are, and I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
Reluctantly, Guangyao agreed, and their first visit was nerve-wracking. He kept his answers short, eyes flicking nervously to the clock. But over time, the sessions became another form of anchor, a place where he could express the fears and worries that felt too heavy to voice elsewhere. Xichen would wait outside, always there when the door opened, his presence a balm to the rawness left behind by old wounds.
Word spread across campus, and soon the whispering changed tones. Instead of skepticism, there was an awe-struck curiosity about the seemingly unbreakable bond between the alpha and the omega. It was impossible not to notice how Xichen’s eyes would light up when he spoke to Guangyao, or how he stood a touch closer when they navigated the halls, a subtle declaration that Jin Guangyao was not just loved but cherished.
Guangyao began to reclaim parts of himself he’d long thought lost. He raised his hand more in his classes, spoke with more confidence, and engaged in discussions without second-guessing every word. The shadows still lingered, but they were thinner now, less oppressive. Xichen celebrated these small victories, sometimes with shared smiles, other times with whispered praises or a light touch to Guangyao’s wrist when they met after classes.
“You’re incredible,” Xichen said one evening as they sat together on the floor of Guangyao’s room, textbooks and notes strewn around them. The room glowed softly in the lamplight, shadows dancing across the pages. “I hope you know that.”
Guangyao looked up, a hesitant smile pulling at his lips. “I’m starting to believe it,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.
Xichen’s expression softened, and he reached out to cup Guangyao’s face, thumb tracing the delicate line of his cheekbone. “Then we’re getting somewhere,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss that was both tender and filled with promise.
It was a sunny afternoon when Xichen and Guangyao decided to take a break from their study session and grab coffee from the campus café. They had been buried in books for hours, and the idea of a quiet moment together felt like a small but deserved reward. Guangyao had been particularly bright today, answering questions with a newfound clarity, and Xichen couldn't help but beam with pride.
They walked side by side toward the café, the cool breeze playing with Guangyao’s hair, his soft laughter making Xichen feel a warmth that spread all over him. But as they neared the entrance, Xichen paused, patting his pockets in search of his phone.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, turning to head back to the library. “Just forgot something.”
Guangyao nodded, offering a smile, though there was a slight unease in his expression. He knew Xichen would be quick, but the idea of waiting alone, in the bustling heart of campus, still made him anxious. He chose a quiet bench near the outdoor seating of the café, trying to distract himself with a few thoughts, but the moment stretched longer than he anticipated.
And then, as though the universe had conspired to make this moment even more unbearable, a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Jin Guangyao.”
Guangyao froze, his heart sinking at the sound. He turned, his polite smile almost automatic as he saw the figure of Lan Qiren walking toward him, the elder’s expression as severe as ever.
“I see you’re still accompanying my nephew,” Qiren remarked, his voice cool and assessing, as though everything about Guangyao was a topic for evaluation. “It seems that you’ve become rather...attached. Is this really wise?”
Guangyao stiffened, trying to mask the way the words dug under his skin. His relationship with Xichen had become something of an open secret, but hearing it dismissed so bluntly by Qiren made it sting in a way that few things could.
“I—” Guangyao began, but the words caught in his throat. It was difficult to defend himself, especially when facing someone as influential as Lan Qiren. His upbringing had taught him to show respect, even if that respect was rarely returned. His fingers tightened around the strap of his bag, unwilling to retreat but unsure how to respond.
“Honestly,” Qiren continued, his tone dripping with condescension, “It’s a shame, really. You’re not the kind of person my nephew should be wasting his time with. The Lan family has certain expectations, and you…” He let the sentence hang in the air, his disdain palpable.
Guangyao’s face turned pale, the sting of those words almost making him retreat into himself. He could feel the tightness in his chest, the familiar feeling of inadequacy creeping up, but before he could summon any words of protest, the sound of footsteps drew closer. A shadow fell over him, and a voice, low and dangerous, cut through the tension.
“Enough, Uncle.”
Xichen stood at the edge of the small seating area, his usually calm demeanor replaced by something fiercer, darker. His gaze locked on Qiren with an intensity that felt like a physical blow.
“Stay away from him,” Xichen’s voice was low, steady, but laced with an unmistakable warning. He was practically radiating a protective aura as he stepped forward, eyes never leaving Qiren.
Guangyao blinked, taken aback by the sudden intensity in Xichen’s voice. He had never heard Xichen speak to his family this way, not with such force, not with such fury.
Qiren’s eyes widened, the shock evident on his face as he stared at his nephew, trying to make sense of what was happening. For a long moment, there was a thick silence between them, only the rustling of the leaves in the breeze breaking it.
“You should know,” Xichen continued, his words coming out slow and deliberate, “that I will not tolerate anyone speaking to him like that, least of all you. I don’t care who you are. If you ever speak to Guangyao that way again, I will make sure the Lan family position is yours alone. Understand?”
There was a sharp, dangerous edge to Xichen’s tone now, and Guangyao felt his heart race. The calm, patient man he’d always known was gone, replaced by someone who was willing to burn bridges for him. It was shocking, overwhelming, and terrifying all at once.
Qiren stood frozen, his face turning a deep shade of red as he processed what Xichen had just said. His lips parted, but no words came. He opened his mouth to speak, but Xichen was already turning, grabbing Guangyao’s wrist with a firm but gentle grip.
“Let’s go, A-Yao,” Xichen said, his voice softer now, yet still firm. He didn’t wait for a response from his uncle, and with a final, pointed glance at Qiren, he led Guangyao away, not sparing another glance in the elder’s direction.
Guangyao’s heart was still pounding in his chest, his mind a whirlwind of confusion. They didn’t speak as they walked. Xichen’s grip on his wrist was strong, but comforting in a way that made Guangyao feel safe. He wasn’t sure how long they walked, only that they ended up near the edge of campus, by the park bench where they had spent countless quiet moments together.
Once they were a little further from the scene, Xichen stopped abruptly, pulling Guangyao into the shade of a nearby tree. The fury on Xichen’s face was still evident, his chest rising and falling with the force of his emotions. But when he finally looked down at Guangyao, his expression softened.
“Are you okay?” Xichen asked, his voice quieter now, gentler.
Guangyao’s breath was shaky, and he looked up at Xichen, feeling the weight of what had just happened. “I… I’m fine,” he murmured, though the words felt hollow.
Xichen raised an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. He stepped closer, lifting Guangyao’s chin gently with one hand, his thumb brushing over the soft skin of his jaw. “A-Yao, you don’t have to pretend. You mean more to me than anything in this world, and I will not let anyone diminish you, not even my family. You deserve better than what he said to you.”
Tears welled in Guangyao’s eyes, and he turned his face away, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “Xichen… you shouldn’t be throwing your position away for me. The Lan family is important to you. I’m just—”
“Don’t,” Xichen interrupted, his voice firm yet full of emotion. He cupped Guangyao’s face, turning it back toward him. “You are more important than all of this, A-Yao. More than any title, more than any expectation. I don’t care about any of that. All I care about is you.”
Guangyao’s heart felt as though it were beating out of his chest. He looked into Xichen’s eyes, searching for any sign of doubt, but all he saw was certainty. Xichen truly meant every word.
The air between them felt charged, the words they had shared hanging in the space, heavy with emotion. Xichen’s hand was still gently cradling Guangyao’s face, his thumb brushing softly over the delicate skin of his jaw, as if to reassure him that he was real, that everything they had fought for was real. Guangyao felt his heart race, his breath hitching in his chest, unsure of whether the pounding in his ears was from the sheer intensity of the moment or the storm of emotions that swirled inside him.
Xichen looked at him with such tenderness, his gaze unflinching, and in that moment, Guangyao realized just how much he had needed this—this reassurance, this feeling of being truly seen, truly loved.
"You don’t have to carry this alone, A-Yao," Xichen whispered, his voice a soothing balm to Guangyao’s wounded heart. “I’m here. I will always be here.”
Guangyao swallowed hard, his lips trembling as he searched Xichen’s eyes, trying to grasp the full weight of what Xichen was offering. The space between them seemed to close, their breaths mingling, and the world outside—the campus, the people, the expectations—faded into nothing. The only thing that remained was the undeniable pull between them, the connection that had always been there, hidden beneath layers of fear, insecurities, and misunderstandings.
Before he could stop himself, Guangyao leaned forward, his body responding to the closeness, the warmth of Xichen’s presence. His lips found Xichen’s, soft at first, tentative, as if he was testing the waters, uncertain if this was truly happening.
But Xichen didn’t hesitate. He closed the distance between them, his lips pressing against Guangyao’s with a gentleness that quickly deepened into something more urgent, more desperate. His hand slid to the back of Guangyao’s neck, pulling him closer, as if he couldn’t get enough of him, as if he had waited far too long for this moment.
Guangyao’s heart stuttered, the warmth from the kiss spreading through his veins like fire. He melted into Xichen, his arms wrapping around the taller man’s waist, clinging to him as if he could never let go. For once, he wasn’t afraid—of Xichen, of himself, of what others might think. In Xichen’s embrace, he felt like he belonged, like he was worthy of love.
The kiss grew deeper, more passionate, as if they were both trying to make up for lost time, for all the moments they had kept apart. When they finally broke apart, their foreheads pressed together, their breaths ragged and unsteady, Guangyao couldn’t help but smile, a small, soft thing that was only for Xichen. His heart was still racing, and he felt a bit dizzy, but it was a good kind of dizzy, the kind that made him feel alive in ways he never had before.
“Yours? Or mine?” Xichen's voice was a gentle murmur, barely audible over the soft rustling of leaves carried by the late afternoon breeze.
Guangyao, still catching his breath, blinked as if pulling himself back into the present. “Huh?” The question hung in the air as he looked up at Xichen, eyes wide and unfocused.
Xichen chuckled, a low, tender sound that vibrated in the space between them. The sight of Guangyao, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, made his heart thrum with affection. He felt an urge to reach out, to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Guangyao’s ear, but instead, he shifted on his feet, suddenly aware of the weight of his own words.
“I meant—should we go back to your dorm or mine?” He paused, the faintest hesitation creeping into his expression as he added with a self-conscious smile, “Or we could find another coffee shop. I don’t want you to feel—”
Before he could finish, Guangyao caught the unspoken worry that lingered in Xichen’s eyes, the way he softened his voice as if not to push too far. The omega’s heartbeat quickened, but not out of uncertainty; it was the way Xichen always managed to make him feel seen and cherished that made warmth unfurl in his chest. A small smile played on his lips as he looked down, hiding the telltale blush blooming across his skin.
“Yours,” Guangyao said softly, the words tumbling out before he could second-guess them. “The concierge at our building can be… strict, a bit overbearing.” The gentle tilt of his head, the way he glanced up through his lashes before averting his eyes again, spoke more than his words.
Xichen's smile deepened, eyes softening as relief and affection collided within him. He reached out, fingers brushing the back of Guangyao’s hand, grounding them both as the world seemed to hold its breath.
The door shut behind them with a muted thud, the echo swallowed by the silence of the room. Guangyao barely had a moment to steady himself before Xichen was there, pressing him gently but firmly against the solid wood. Their mouths met in a rush of heat and unspoken promises, a clash that spoke of weeks of yearning and tender restraint.
With practiced ease, Xichen reached back, twisting the lock into place without breaking the connection. His other arm slid around Guangyao’s waist, fingers splaying possessively as he pulled the omega closer. There, in the soft dim light of his room, everything seemed to fit — the way Guangyao’s heartbeat thudded against his chest, the warmth radiating between them. It was as if every moment had led to this, where Xichen felt Guangyao belonged, pressed close, wrapped securely in his embrace.
They parted just enough to catch their breath, the air between them heavy with anticipation. Xichen gently guided Guangyao further into the room, the soft glow of evening casting warm hues across the walls. The scent of sandalwood and amber — familiar and soothing — wrapped around Guangyao, easing the racing jitters in his chest.
The soft voice of his omega instinct preened at the realization, warmth spreading through him as the truth settled in: the scent surrounding them, anchoring them in this moment, belonged to none other than the alpha who had captivated him. It was Xichen’s—steady, grounding, and endlessly inviting.
Xichen set his phone on the desk, its dull clatter breaking the silence momentarily. When he turned back, the sight of Guangyao with flushed cheeks and bright eyes made his heart stutter. The room, once spacious, now felt both vast and achingly close, as though the walls themselves were holding their breath.
“Are you sure about this?” Xichen's voice was low, imbued with the careful tenderness that made Guangyao’s heart swell. “We could just...cuddle, watch something. Whatever you want.”
Guangyao’s gaze met his, steady despite the warmth suffusing his skin. A small, earnest smile curved his lips. “I’m sure,” he whispered, a slight tremor betraying the depth of his feelings as he stepped closer.
Xichen’s fingers found their way to Guangyao’s face, brushing over his cheek before threading through the silky strands of his hair. Their foreheads touched, and for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. The steady cadence of their breathing mingled in the stillness, a silent acknowledgment of trust and the unspoken promise between them.
Notes of deepened honey, rich and golden, mingled with the vivid, sun-warmed sweetness of a lavender field, saturating the room. It was an unmistakable fragrance, uniquely Guangyao, wrapping them in a cocoon of warmth and familiarity. To Xichen, it smelled of joy, quiet contentment, and everything he longed for.
The aroma didn’t just soothe him; it stirred something deeper, emboldening him, instilling a newfound certainty. This moment was theirs, untethered from the weight of the world. His A-Yao wanted this, wanted him—just as much as he did.
A gentle smile played on Xichen’s lips, a silent acknowledgment of what lay ahead, their hearts beating in synchrony, anticipation sparking between them.
He kissed the brunette again. With a different kind of passion.
The kind you poured in the person you cherished. The person you adored. The person you loved.
They smoothly moved to the bed, Xichen sitting onto it, and Guangyao straddling his lap.
Xichen’s hands, which were firmly wrapped around Guangyao’s nimble waist, slid lower to grab his globes, squeezing them and eliciting a suave moan from Guangyao’s swollen lips that was as quickly swallowed by the alpha’s.
They finally pulled away, when they started feeling dizzy.
Xichen, never one to waste time, used that opportunity to leave open mouth kisses, from Guangyao’s lips, through his cheek and jaw, to his neck.
Guangyao’s hands needed to grab something, and they settled on pulling on the black locks of his lover.
After a remarkable amount of hickeys on the other man’s neck, not without rejoicing in said man's whimpers and moans, Xichen decided it was time to start unpacking his gift.
He grabbed the brunette’s shirt at the hem, stopping just long enough to get the green light from him, before lifting it up, off of its owner.
Guangyao really did not have any idea what the word imperfection meant, that Xichen was convinced of.
The man’s skin was pale, its smoothness accentuated by the flush that spread across his cheeks and dipped lower, staining his neck and the upper slope of his chest. His stomach was flat, a soft contour beneath the surface, while his waist tapered delicately, slender in the way that was so characteristic of an omega.
What captured his attention however, were the hardened rosy pebbles standing right in front of him.
They were standing proud, inviting in a teasing way.
And Xichen was never one to decline such a well formulated invitation.
He dived into Guangyao’s chest, wrapping his lips against one of the hardened nubs, sucking, and pulling till the man was writhing on his lap.
But he was also a generous man, so he made sure to use his hand to tease the other one to make sure it was not lonely.
His other hand was firmly pressed against the small man’s back, making sure he didn’t escape from his ministrations.
He would alternate regularly between each side, making sure to give both nipples the same level of attention.
“Xichen- ugh… Please, it’s too much!” Guangyao half-moaned and screamed from overstimulation.
Softening at the sight of his lover's vulnerable state, Xichen pulled away, witnessing the other’s debauched state.
Nothing much had even happened yet, and Guangyao was already looking so
ravished.
He first laid back down, pulling Guangyao with him, before turning them around, with him now on top of the other man.
Guangyao pulled on his shirt, signaling him to take it off. And Xichen obliged, because who was he to deny anything to this godlike creature?
Xichen’s physique was a masterpiece, each muscle defined with natural precision, a clear result of his alpha nature. His abs were sculpted, rippling with a controlled strength, while his arms, toned and powerful, spoke of both grace and dominance. From what Guangyao could see, the curve of his back was a work of art—broad, strong, and lean, like the body of someone who had honed it for both endurance and power. Every movement Xichen made seemed to highlight just how perfectly his form was crafted.
The alpha repositioned himself on top of the brunette. Looking him right in the eyes.
“I am going to take your pants off, is that okay?” He asked softly, nose nuzzling along Guangyao’s neck, relishing in the sweet scent the other man was releasing.
“Yeah,” Guangyao softly exhaled.
Xichen slowly pulled Guangyao’s sweatpants down, exposing black lace panties, and toned thighs.
He felt overwhelmed by the view not knowing where to put his attention.
He didn’t expect his A-Yao to be the kind that was into pretty lingerie. And he just discovered that he was also deep into it.
But what he should have expected for the younger man to have toned legs. He was a tennis player, so obviously. But also, Xichen was sure his brain stopped thinking since he met the other man.
He grabbed a handful of each thigh in his hands, pressing himself against the younger man, to steal another kiss.
His forgotten hood reminded him of its existence, when it collided with Guangyao’s.
“Fuck,” he grunted pulling away from the kiss.
“Oh–,” Guangyao let out, not really sure if it was from the friction, or from hearing Xichen curse for the first time ever in what sounded like his bedroom voice, because both sounded equally arousing.
It felt so good though, that he had to have it again. So he thrusted his hips up, grinding against his partner's erection once again.
They both moaned out lewdly.
After a few tries, they found a proper rhythm, and kept stealing pleasure from each other while exchanging fleeting kisses.
Xichen knew that he would definitely embarrass himself if this kept going, so he reluctantly, pressing Guangyao’s hips back in the mattress to prevent the other man from reaching for more.
He reached down, hooking his fingers in the band of Guangyao’s panties.
“As much as I like this-,” he said with a smirk, chuckling at the intensified blush on the petite man’s face, “I need to take them off,” he added.
He left enough time for Guangyao to retract, before pulling the panties down his thighs.
It seems Xichen was indeed too captivated by everything going down, to notice some other things.
Guangyao was wet. In fact, not just wet but drenched.
The man’s panties were soaked, and his slick— Xichen was aware of what that wetness was, yeah— had even started to permeate through the bedsheets.
Fuck.
And the smell? Xichen could almost be gaslighted into thinking he was eating pure honey, made from lavender flowers, from how potent the smell was.
He had to taste it. And that’s exactly what he did.
He pulled the panty till it was fully removed, before throwing it somewhere around the room.
Then he used his hands to grab onto Guangyao’s calves, pulling each of them over his shoulder, before pulling the man closer to the edge of the bed, his own person kneeling just before the bed.
“What are you—,” Guangyao tried to yelp.
He wasn’t even able to finish his sentence, before it was replaced by a lewd loud moan.
Xichen licked a fat stripe from across the puckered trembling hole.
He let out a soft hum, as if he was savoring a tasty meal.
The brunette tasted better than he had ever imagined, even in his nastiest dreams.
He dived back trying to get as much mouthful of slick as he could.
Guangyao did not know what to do except from moaning and writhing around under the continuous assault of the other man, on his most sensitive part.
When Xichen finished lapping the overflowing juice, he had to dive right back to the source.
The assault stopped for a few seconds, just before Guangyao felt a hot velvety thing, stretching his sphincter and plunging right into him.
“Ah- Xichen!” the man let out loudly feeling overwhelmed by the sensations, his hands flying out to grip the sheets.
Xichen on his side was enjoying all of this. He was gobbling down any slick that reached his tongue, while exploring the soft muscles that mapped his boyfriend’s insides.
His hands were secured around the younger man’s hips, securing him in place.
After what felt like a sweet but torturous eternity, Xichen pulled away.
Guangyao’s eyes fluttered open slightly.
The man in front of him looked so familiar but also so different.
It was still the same Xichen he knew, handsome with sharp features, brown eyes and black hair.
But this Xichen felt different. He felt maybe more confident? Cocky almost, and mischievous in that naughty way.
Guangyao blushed furiously when he saw him lick his glistening lips.
“I fear I am in a bit of a hurry today, love. I will try to dedicate another session to tasting you fully till release,” he said while standing up and kneeling on the bed, straddling Guangyao all while acting oblivious to the abashed expression on his lover’s face.
He wrapped his hands around the brunette waist, hoisting him upper in the bed.
While kneeling between Guangyao’s legs, he let his fingertips brush from the omega’s navel, down to his lower belly, stopping to wrap his hand around his cock.
Guangyao gasped.
Xichen stroked the member, using the precum that had pooled around it to make it more enjoyable.
He then used his other hand to press and glide around the young man’s rim.
“A-Chen!”
“Hm?” the man in question smugly replied.
He pressed two fingers in. A mix of the hurry he was biologically in, but also the confidence that his boyfriend had been sufficiently prepared previously by his assistance.
Guangyao let out a loud scream, and Xichen could only pray that the rooms were isolated enough or else he was going to be in deep trouble.
But that was a worry for the sober Xichen.
Because Guangyao had just cum.
His eyes were shut tight, biting his lips, back arched, toes curling and hands gripping the sheets.
Fuck.
He is even prettier.
Xichen stopped his movement. Using the time, not only to let his lover rest, but also to cool himself down.
When he felt relaxed enough, he took his cum covered hand to his lips, licking a significant amount of it away.
“No! You don’t have to do that! It’s disgusting…,” Guangyao said from his semi-fucked out mind.
“Yeah. I know I don’t have to. I wanted to. And I am not disappointed. It tastes as delicious as every part of you,” the man retorted back, licking every millimeter of cum he could find.
He was mildly aware of Guangyao using his arm to cover his flustered face.
He went back to his task.
They had to go to at least four.
So Xichen restarted, thrusting his fingers in, slowly at first to let the brunette ever sensitive hole get used to the friction a little bit, before going rougher and deeper.
His favorite part was definitely the small gasp and mewls that left the omega’s lips every time he trusted a little deeper.
A particular loud gasp stood out at some point, signaling to the alpha that he had found the bundle of nerves.
He tentatively pressed against it a few more times, while studying his lover’s expressions, just to confirm his findings.
When he determined that he had indeed found it, he added a third finger in, that was sucked in such a quick and easy way, that he had to physically constrict his own member then and there, to prevent an embarrassing situation.
His fingers glided in and out with ease, helped by the increasing amount of slick produced each time he hit that tender place.
By the time he was on the fourth, Guangyao was the one getting impatient.
“Please just do it…,” he implored.
“Do what?” Xichen asked in a teasing tone.
“...If you don’t want to, I can just find someone else,” Guangyao answered with a bratty tone.
Xichen snarled.
Which to be honest, Guangyao found incredibly hot.
In an instant, the fingers were pulled out, leaving him empty and clenching around nothing—- he whimpered, he was hoisted higher in the bed, his head on the large and soft pillows, and Xichen was scrambling to remove his pants and underwear.
Maybe he had underestimated some factors.
It was pretty known that omegas had rather small genitals that served more as an erogenous zone than anything.
Alphas however had larger ones that helped in the process of impregnation.
And while Guangyao had never seen a dick face to face, he was sure they were NOT supposed to be this big.
Big was an understatement.
Xichen had a huge ‘thing’ pending between his legs.
Who was going to take all that?
He was jerked off of his thoughts when he felt Xichen hand wrap around his thigh with the said man kneeling in front of him.
“I- Wait,” he interjected.
Xichen stood still, looking at Guangyao with concerned eyes.
“What is it? Did I hurt you?” he asked.
“No!” the brunette quickly answered to soothe the man’s worries. “I am totally fine. It’s just that- it’s- I have never…,” he let out in a small voice suddenly feeling timid.
“Nev- oh,” Xichen replied.
“Yeah… I am sorry. I just don’t-” Guangyao started to ramble.
“No need to apologize sweetheart,” Xichen said, cupping the other man’s cheek in his palm. “We can start here if you want. I would understand if it was too much for-”
“No! I want to!” Guangyao retorted.
“Okay, love,” Xichen answered back while chuckling. “I will take it slow. You can ask for a break or ask me to stop when you want. Is that okay with you?” Xichen asked with a soft voice.
“Yes.. It’s okay,” Guangyao said with a bit more confidence.
“Good. Can we keep going now?”
Guangyao nodded, while laying back down.
Xichen put a pillow behind his back, to help elevate Guangyao better.
He quickly and expertly put on a condom that was on the top of his drawer (don’t ask him why), before lubing it a bit.
The slick was going to do most of the work but he didn’t want to take any risk with his soft boy.
He placed himself closer to Guangyao, propping himself up on his elbows.
“Relax for me, love,” he whispered before going down and kissing the brunette.
He used that moment of inattention from the omega, to slowly start sinking in.
It wasn’t enough still as the omega broke the kiss to let out a small whimper.
“Should I stop?” Xichen asked, concerned.
Guangyao just shook his head.
His eyes were firmly shut.
He was so tense, and Xichen could feel it from how impossibly tightly he was feeling around his tip.
“Baby, you need to relax,” he softly said while peppering his lover’s face with kisses.
“Breathe with me,” he finally said.
Breathing exercises usually worked to relax people. Why would they not work in sex?
After a moment he could feel Guangyao relaxing around his shaft.
“You are doing good love,” he whispered encourageously.
He nuzzled his head in his lover’s neck.
This was hard for him too.
Since he felt the warmth of Guangyao’s hole he wanted nothing but to thrust in and let it all envelop his cock.
He kept kissing the omega, leaving hickeys here and there, while continuying the penetration.
With that game of multitasking, he was buried to the brim before he could even realized it.
“Fuck,” he grunted when he was sithed deep inside.
Guangyao was tight, warm, the soft muscles of his insides trembling around his shaft.
“How are you doing babe?” he asked breathlessly.
“Hmhm,” was all he got for an answer.
When he turned to look at his man, the brunette had his eyes, shut tight. Softly inhaling and exhaling.
Xichen mustered his years of meditation and self control, to stay still.
They stayed like that for an agonizing ammount of time.
But then Guangyao started shifting around a bit.
Xichen took it as a sign, and started tentatively and slowly thrusting in and out.
He only picked up his pace when his boyfriend started moaning.
“Fuck baby, you feel so good around me,” he say punctuating his words with a deep thrust.
Guangyao was feeling overwhelmed.
He could feel Xichen everywhere.
He could smell and taste the sandalwood and amber scent in his nose and mouth. Xichen hands seemed to be everywhere at once, sometimes on his fae, or his arms, others on his nipples, or around his waist.
And god could he feel the man shaft. He felt it deep within himself, pressing sweetly against his bundle of nerves. From his hole to the back of his throat.
He couldn’t muster a single sensical thought.
He was so overwhelmed that he could only moan, mewl, gasp and whimper.
So this was what people meant by “fucked mindless”.
“You are such a good omega, A-Yao. Feeling so good for me,” the alpha grunted, pressing his cock especially roughly deep inside.
“Xichen! I- I’m, I don’t know,” Guangyao let out in a ragged breath.
“It’s okay baby. Just relax and feel it for me,” Xichen answered sweetly.
His hands were digging in the omega’s hips, they sould urely leave a bruise. But righ now none of them cared.
Xichen picked up his pace, feeling the pleasure building up in his own groin.
Guangyao suddenly went taunt. Eyes rolling back, jaw slacked, hands clawing at Xichens toned arms.
His cock spurted a bit of cum.
But the most of his orgasm was felt at the back.
A sudden gush of slick poured out, spilling from around the side of Xichen’s cock, making the sliding easier.
What was making it harder was how tight his hole had clenched around his cock.
Between the sexy fucked-out face of his lover, the warmth and the tightness of the hole, Xichen came after the third thrust.
He buried deep inside his lover, before releasing inside the condom.
He said there tensed for a while, trying to catch his breath.
When the high of the climax was gone, he slowly pulled out, his dick twitching at Guangyao’s small whimper.
He softly coddled the omega, before runing of to grab a wet towel, to clean up the mess on their bodies, loving the soft hums of pleasurehis omega left out.
When they were clean as it could get, he threw the towel away, settling next to his boyfriend, throwing a blanket over them and pulling the omega in a loving embrace.
The post-orgasm exhaustion started to kick in, but he kept checking on his boyfriend.
“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” he asked softly.
“No,” Guangyao answered while shaking his head. “Thank you. I loved it.”
Xichen smiled softly.
“I am glad. Because I love you,” he said pressing a kiss to the brunette head.
“I love you too,” the omega said snuggling closer to the alpha.
And they lived happily ever after. Ha.