Water splashes as it begins to overflow and the atmosphere grows intimately quiet as the two soak in the comfortably warm water.
Steam rises in thick, sultry curls from the water, cloaking the room in a soft haze of heat and scents—sandalwood, musk, and something sweetly floral. The tub is wide and deep, carved from the most pristine and purest of ivory, it is filled nearly to the brim with hot water that ripples gently as their bodies shift.
Yao Ziyang sits nestled between the thighs of the other, his back pressed to a firm, warm chest, slick with water. Dong Yingming leans forward slightly, lips grazing the curve of his neck, a slow trail of kisses moving up toward his ear. A soft breath catches between them.
Dong Yingming's hands roam with deliberate care—fingers skimming along ribs, sliding down the taut plane of a stomach, teasing the sensitive edge of hips just beneath the surface. One hand cups Yao Ziyang's jaw, turning his face just enough for a kiss—slow, wet, and deep. Their mouths meet and linger, tongues exploring with unspoken longing, a quiet rhythm building in the stillness.
Legs shift and intertwine beneath the water. Their bodies press together more fully now, skin to skin, heat layered over heat. Yao Ziyang's hand slips lower, a firm, gentle stroke beneath the waterline, drawing a low moan that echoes softly in the tiled room. The pace is unhurried—worshipful—each touch an expression of want and reverence.
They don't speak. They don't need to. Everything is said in how they hold each other, how they move together in the water, lost in the heat, the steam, and the quiet intensity of being completely known.
The water laps softly around them as their bodies shift closer, the air thick with steam and the mingling scent of skin and heat. Yao Ziyang leans back more fully now, head tilting to the side, exposing the elegant curve of his throat. Dong Yingming takes the invitation with a low, pleased hum, pressing his lips to damp skin—kissing, nipping lightly, letting his tongue linger in the hollow just below his ear.
Fingers roam freely now, sliding across slick, warm flesh. One hand cradles a hip, grounding them both in the slow current of desire, while the other moves lower beneath the water. Dong Yingming wraps his hand around the firm heat between his lover's legs, stroking in long, deliberate movements that draw a quiet gasp and a roll of the hips.
Their breaths grow heavier, the rhythm between them thickening. Yao Ziyang reaches behind, blindly seeking to grasp onto a thigh, a hip, anything to anchor himself. He finds it—a strong thigh flexed beneath the water—and grips it tight as he pushes back slightly, grinding against the touch, his body aching for more.
"Stay right there."
comes a voice—low, breathy, threaded with hunger. Dong Yingming's hand trails up Yao Ziyang's chest, brushing a nipple, making him shiver despite the heat. Lips find his jaw again, then his mouth, and the kiss is deeper this time—open-mouthed, messy, full of slow, wet heat and restrained urgency.
Dong Yingming shifts, sliding forward, his body fitting snugly against the other's back. Water spills gently over the edge of the tub with the movement. His length presses between his partner's cheeks, thick and hard, teasing as they grind in rhythm. There's no rush—just the friction, the closeness, the deliberate building of something raw and tender.
Yao Ziyang's hand reaches back to guide him, both of them breathing hard now. He begins to push it in slowly, carefully, Dong Yingming lets out a low groan against the other's neck. However, he deliberately rubs against the puckering hole. Grasping both of Yao Ziyang's arms, he pulls them back, locking them by his side and forcing the other to arch his back into a beautiful crescent arch. His immense shaft nestled comfortably between the two rounded and perky cheeks. Their bodies lock into place—every inch jolted in pleasure, a shared tension eased only by the way they move together. The water rocks gently around them, muffling their breathless moans, the wet slap of skin, the quiet curses muttered between kisses.
The thrusts are slow and deep at first—measured, savoring each motion, each contraction of muscle around Dong Yingming's cock. Yao Ziyang braces himself against the tub's edge, once the other released his arms and holds him tightly around the waist instead.
Forehead resting between his shoulder blades, breath shuddering with each thrust.
Fingers curl. Spines arch. Words are whispered—
"Yes, more, just like that."
—but mostly it's feeling that leads them, not language. They move together as though they've done this a hundred times, as though they'll do it a hundred more. No rush. Just closeness. Just heat.
And when the end comes, it's like a wave—silent, full-bodied, overwhelming. Yao Ziyang gasps and clenches around the other as he spills into his hand, his cry muffled in the steam. Dong Yingming follows soon after, grinding deep with a groan, releasing onto the back of his lover, clutching him so tightly he almost trembles.
After, they sink back into the water, breathless, limbs tangled. There's a lazy silence between them now, broken only by the slow drip of water from the edge of the tub. Fingers intertwine. Dong Yingming places a soft kiss on the damp temple of Yao Ziyang.
The world outside seems to disappear.
…
Yao Ziyang couldn't believe how light he felt right after. His whole being was so warm and fuzzy. Even his vision was becoming fuzzy! Oh wait…
Unfortunately the good feelings didn't last long. Soon the water that was once steaming warm, became lukewarm and was beginning to turn cold. The cooling temperature of the water starkly contrasted with the rising body heat of Yao Ziyang.
Dong Yingming noticed this immediately and went to drain the tub. Stepping onto the bath mat, he put on a bathrobe he had hung by the glass wall and grabbed the second one that was next to it. Going back to the silent man in the now empty tub, Dong Yingming takes his hand carefully and helps to lift him to his feet.
Once Yao Ziyang was able to stand, albeit with some swaying, Dong Yingming maneuvered his arms into the sleeves and tied up the warm white robe. Afterwards, he scooped up Yao Ziyang and brought him over to sit in his desk chair.
Getting another towel from the bathroom, Dong Yingming begins to methodically dry Yao Ziyang's wet hair. He had no need to dry his own as his buzzcut didn't hold much water as well as his slight beard and was already halfway dry by now. Once finished, he lifts Yao Ziyang up again and walks towards the bed.
Tucking in the sick man, Dong Yingming makes his way towards his own side and settles in. By now the time was nearing 3 am. He still couldn't believe it. He had told himself to wait. Had managed to control himself just fine until now. Somehow, when the two of them were in the bathroom, with Yao Ziyang eyeing him without a hint of fear or disgust, Dong Yingming's reasoning just…snapped? He had lost control! He, Dong Yingming, the once city's only Emperor of the Underground, was unable to control his urges!
Out of embarrassment, Dong Yingming brings a palm to his face. He still couldn't believe it. Had he not regained a shred of sanity at the most crucial moment, Yao Ziyang could have gotten seriously hurt! His health is still unstable and yet he put him through such an intense workout! He may have to go back to that quack and get more pills.
Letting out a deep sigh, Dong Yingming places his strong arms behind his head and begins to drift off to sleep. He nearly dozed before a naughty hand made its return around his abdomen! Dong Yingming was going to move it until he heard a hoarse whisper.
"Warm…"
Dong Yingming gritted his teeth and half reluctantly scooted Yao Ziyang closer, resting his left arm along his back and his hand fit perfectly on the dip of his waist.
…
Given the late night activities the two men partook in and his sick health status, Yao Ziyang woke up near 11 am. As opposed to Dong Yingming who woke up at a prompt 6 am, however this is only due to years of strict discipline, no matter the time he falls asleep, he will always wake at 6 am.
Seeing that Yao Ziyang was finally awake, he releases him from his arms and walks over towards the door. Once again, Dong Yingming feeds Yao Ziyang the medical pill, a sweet walnut congee and honey water. After their morning routine, Dong Yingming sits by Yao Ziyang's side and asks the question he's been curious about since the moment they first met.
"So Baby Bird, tell me. How'd a cutie like you end up in this big bad prison? Did you kill someone?"
Yao Ziyang perked up instantly and saw his opportunity! This was it! The moment the original Yao Ziyang expressed his desires for revenge against the male and female leads! He has a chance to change everything at this very moment! The idea and thrill at the experience was titillating! He was so over the moon, he nearly cracked a smile! That wouldn't be good! He needed to sell his story! Putting on a reluctant look and speaking somberly, Yao Ziyang begins his tale.
"Brother Dong! I was really wronged!"