The Night Before Dawn
The light in the room left only a faint golden glow that fell upon Xiaoxi's small frame.
Sweat still clung to his skin, making the pale surface glimmer softly under the light.
Strands of dark hair stuck to his temple, his lips slightly parted, his breath heavy yet steady.
That fragile body looked so peaceful—yet within Yu Chen's chest, it stirred a storm he could no longer contain.
With a warm towel in hand, Yu Chen slowly wiped Xiaoxi's delicate skin—
from his shoulders, down his arms, and to his chest.
His movements were gentle, deliberate—like a man long used to control,
yet now lost within the very act of restraint.
His gaze sharpened, tracing every visible curve.
This body felt different.
This sensation—foreign.
All this time, he had been certain no woman could ever move him again, not after Li Yuan Bo.
And yet, with Xiaoxi before him now, that buried impulse returned—
fiercer than he could have imagined.
His breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling, his jaw tightening.
The hand holding the towel moved slightly deeper, brushing against Xiaoxi's soft chest.
For a fleeting second, his hand froze—
then pressed lightly, as though feeling something he knew he should not touch.
Heat clouded Yu Chen's vision, rising swiftly to his head.
He leaned closer; the distance between them was but a breath.
His lips hovered above Xiaoxi's pale ones,
his heartbeat hammering so violently it felt as if his body itself had turned against him.
Then suddenly—
Xiaoxi stirred.
His face winced, his breathing unsteady, a restless sound escaping his throat.
Yu Chen stopped instantly.
His eyes widened, breath ragged.
He pulled his hand away as though burned, rising abruptly from the bed.
For a moment, he only stared at Xiaoxi—still asleep, his forehead damp with sweat.
"What was I about to do…?"
The thought seared through his mind, his face tense, brows furrowed in silent disbelief.
The room fell silent again, swallowing everything whole.
But within Yu Chen's chest, that tremor remained—
louder, darker, more terrifying than any emotion he had ever faced before the camera.
His hands trembled slightly as he reached for the white Givenchy shirt folded neatly beside the bed.
Carefully, he draped it over Xiaoxi's small body.
The premium cotton embraced that damp, pale skin—
a strange contrast between the luxury of fabric and the fragility of the one who wore it.
After fastening the last button, Yu Chen bent down, adjusting Xiaoxi's sleeping posture.
He moved the small body gently, set a pillow beneath his head,
and pulled the soft white duvet up to his shoulders.
Every gesture was deliberate, reverent—
as if a single careless touch might break him.
Yet in that stillness, Yu Chen felt the weight of his own breathing.
His chest rose and fell, his jaw locked tight, and the fabric around his hips felt uncomfortably tense.
He knew exactly what that reaction meant—
a response he had never once experienced with any woman.
He turned away quickly, stepping back from the bed—
as though distance itself was the only salvation.
With long strides, he entered the bathroom.
Water burst from the showerhead in a heavy stream.
Steam filled the air, clinging to the glass walls.
Yu Chen stood beneath the cascade, letting it drench his entire body.
His hands pressed against the cold marble wall, his breathing uneven, his brows deeply furrowed.
The shower lasted far longer than usual—
not to cleanse his skin,
but to quiet something burning deep within him.
When he finally emerged, his hair was damp,
a black bathrobe clinging to his toned frame.
Yet his eyes remained dark, shadowed by something he dared not name.
He walked out of the bathroom, each step calm and measured.
His hair still wet, his robe wrapped tightly around him.
The room was dim, bathed in the soft amber glow that fell upon Xiaoxi's sleeping face.
Slowly, he approached the bed.
Not to the sofa, nor the chaise by the window—
but to the same side of the bed.
Only one reason guided his steps: to make sure Xiaoxi was all right.
He sat quietly, watching the gentle outline beneath the lamplight.
That face was serene, breath steady, brows twitching faintly.
Something within Yu Chen shifted—
as though the walls he had built for years were crumbling,
and he was powerless to stop them.
His mind wandered back to the past—
to nights when he tried to love women,
to the cold emptiness of realizing his body never responded as it should.
The frustration, the pretense, the hollow attempts to appear "normal."
But Li Yuan Bo had been different.
Only with him did Yu Chen's body ever respond,
without resistance, without denial.
That was why he had believed—
he could only ever be moved by one person.
Yet tonight, beside Xiaoxi,
that belief had cracked.
His body had responded.
His heart had trembled.
He didn't understand what it meant—
and that confusion made him all the more drawn to Xiaoxi.
Yu Chen took a slow breath, trying to calm the faint turmoil inside.
His eyes lingered on Xiaoxi for a long time,
as though searching for an answer in that small, sleeping face.
But exhaustion eventually won.
Gently, he lay down on the other side of the bed.
He kept a careful distance,
yet the warmth of Xiaoxi's body still reached him through the covers.
In the quiet, his eyes closed.
For the first time in a long while, sleep came swiftly—
without nightmares, without restlessness.
Yu Chen fell into deep slumber, beside the same bed as Xiaoxi.
When Morning Comes
Morning light slipped through the thin curtains of the master bedroom,
washing the room in a gentle golden hue.
The air felt fresh—so different from the night before,
which had been filled with panic and heat.
Xiaoxi stirred, his small body shifting slightly.
He felt lighter, though a faint weakness still lingered in his joints.
A soft frown crossed his face as something warm pressed against him—
something firm, solid, and… far too close.
Half-asleep, he felt an arm wrapped tightly around his waist.
A steady breath brushed against the back of his ear,
so close it sent shivers down his spine.
"Huh…?" Xiaoxi blinked slowly, eyes struggling to focus.
Once. Twice.
Then—
THUD!
His heart leapt straight to his throat.
"HE'S—HE'S HOLDING ME?!" he screamed inwardly.
His face froze in horror.
He bit back the urge to yell, lips trembling,
while his mind erupted into a frantic monologue.
"Ha! Where am I?! What happened last night?! Why does this feel like a five-star hotel?! Why is the bed this soft?! And—HA! Why is there… an arm?! Don't tell me—"
He turned slowly, and his eyes widened in shock.
Beside him, a man lay asleep—handsome, sharp-featured,
hair slightly tousled, his face calm in slumber.
That wasn't just anyone.
It was Wei Yu Chen.
Xiaoxi froze. Completely.
"W-wait… I—I slept in Yu Chen's room?! I slept in HIS BED?! No, no, no… you're insane, Xiaoxi! What happened?!"
His cheeks burned scarlet.
His hands trembled as he tried not to leap out of bed.
His breath came quick, uneven—yet he dared not move too much,
afraid of waking Yu Chen, whose face was only inches away from his own.
With a choked whisper, he muttered to himself,
"Am I dreaming? Or did I fall into a parallel world? How on earth could I—Xu Xiaoxi—end up in the same bed with Wei Yu Chen?! Ahhh!!"
Still half-dazed, Xiaoxi's thoughts spun wildly.
He glanced down and, with growing panic, began to feel around his body.
A second later, his eyes went wide.
"WHAT?!" he screamed internally.
The clothes clinging to his body weren't his.
He was wearing a long white shirt—clearly a man's.
The fabric was too large for his small frame, falling loose,
the hem brushing just above his knees.
The material was thin, smooth,
catching the morning light with a soft sheen.
The faint trace of sweat from the night before made it cling lightly to his skin,
revealing delicate curves that shouldn't be seen.
It was a strange contrast—his petite figure against the elegance of a shirt that clearly belonged to Wei Yu Chen.
Xiaoxi froze again, his face a mix of panic and disbelief.
"W-w-wait… this isn't my shirt! Why am I—wearing his?! Who changed me?! DON'T TELL ME… IT WAS HIM?!!!"
Shock and embarrassment collided at once, and he let out a loud scream.
"AAAAAAHHHHH!!"
In one swift motion, he jumped to his feet on the bed.
His long wavy hair fell in a soft mess over his shoulders and back,
the golden light spilling over his flushed face—
making him look both endearing and unintentionally sensual in his chaos.
The white shirt lifted slightly with his movement,
revealing his slender legs and fair skin that seemed to glow under the sun.
His wide eyes and open mouth made him look both terrified and absurdly adorable—
yet somehow, that very confusion only amplified his charm.
The scream startled Yu Chen awake.
Still half-asleep, he blinked slowly,
his handsome face shadowed by drowsiness,
dark hair a little tousled.
His gaze was unfocused for a moment before it sharpened.
Raising his head, his brows furrowed
as he saw Xiaoxi standing on the bed, face flushed and panicked.
Yu Chen's voice came out low and deep,
husky with sleep, yet heavy with quiet authority.
"...What are you doing this early in the morning?"