threadbare [3/4]
MASSIVE WARNING What you are about to read touches upon very sensitive, sometimes triggering topics. Please proceed with caution and only do so if you are okay with voluntarily exposing yourself to descriptive molestation of a minor, rape, violence, suicide, and severe mental illness. Thank you.
Yifan couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea of spending his own money to house a former patient in an apartment of his own, but he also couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of letting said patient live in his home until some indeterminate time. If Zitao hadn’t assaulted him the way that he had, he might have been able to make his mind up right away - but that was always going to weigh on his thoughts.
The reality of the thing was that Zitao really wasn’t going to improve at all if he had to continue to spend time in Shenzhen, which was definitely a toxic environment for him. Yifan considered the fact that he had several things to use against Zitao to prevent a reoccurrence of the incident in his office - Zitao’s fear of the police being one of them, getting kicked out of Yifan’s apartment another.
In the end, that was enough for him to decide that he’d take the risk and allow Zitao into his home. It was for the best.
“Now, we’re going to do this the way we did it the day after you slept over,” Yifan said as Zitao dropped his duffle bag of clothes onto his bed - a mattress with a blanket and pillow on the floor in Yifan’s previously unused guest bedroom. “When I leave the house for extended periods of time, you have to go elsewhere. I’m not leaving you here by yourself.”
“Understood,” Zitao said with a nod.
“If you plan to go out, and I’m home - which I’ll have to be, since I’m not leaving you here alone under any circumstance - you have to tell me where you’ll be and when you’ll get back. You may think I’m babying you, but you’re my responsibility now. If you go missing, I’m the only person who will be out there searching for you.” Zitao wilted a bit at this, but Yifan continued. “If there are any issues, I have the right to tell you to leave and you have to abide to that. Got it?”
“Yes,” Zitao muttered. He was beginning to feel like he’d volunteered himself for prison.
“I work four days a week, from seven a.m. to five p.m., sometimes later depending on my workload. If for any reason you need to contact me during those hours, call my office phone - but only if it’s important.” Yifan paused for a moment, scanning his mind in search of anything else he needed to mention. “Also, no cooking. I’ll cook or order food. Don’t touch the stove.”
Zitao nodded as Yifan left the room. If he didn’t love him so much, Zitao would kindly take back his request and move back to Shenzhen. But he needed Yifan, and to voluntarily keep the distance between them would have been ridiculous on his behalf.
The days that followed went better than either of them had expected. Zitao was diligent in finding places to spend the day while Yifan worked, and, to Yifan’s enjoyment, Zitao followed each of his rules without fault. They began to fall into a routine at dinnertime; Yifan would cook or order in, and they would chat over dinner about whatever element of Zitao’s issues came to mind that night. Once they were finished eating, Zitao put himself in charge of putting the leftovers into containers and washing up the dishes and utensils.
Yifan found himself liking the fact that he had Zitao around. It made his day to day less lonely and monotonous, and Zitao was so readily available to pick up Yifan’s chores that it made his nights and weekends a lot more stress-free.
“Do you feel as if being here has helped at all?” Yifan asked over dinner on their second Saturday together.
“Yes, definitely,” Zitao said, and he smiled. “I’m a lot happier now than I used to be.”
“And you think that has to do with being here rather than in Shenzhen?” Yifan asked.
Zitao nodded. “I know that’s why. I’m not as lonely… and I did always like Guangzhou, so living here has been nice. I’m always doing something or thinking about something so I don’t have to dwell on my past and drive myself into fits like I used to. Being here is good for me.”
Yifan smiled himself. “I’m happy to hear it… partially because it lets me know that I can trust you with what I’m about to tell you.” Zitao blinked in expectation. “We’re going to try letting you stay here by yourself for a few hours tonight. I’m meeting with a few of my former classmates for drinks after we’re done eating, and I don’t want to have you walking about after dark, especially because you don’t like being out at night.”
“Really?” Zitao said with a broad smile. “I’ll be good, don’t worry. I might even just go to bed; I’m feeling like I could sleep early tonight.”
“Alright, sounds good.” Yifan nodded and pulled a bundle of noodles into his mouth with his chopsticks.
As tired as Zitao was, he couldn’t keep his eyes off the clock. He listened out for the sound of the front door opening and closing, a drunk Yifan dragging his feet to his bedroom and shutting the door behind him, groaning as he flung himself into bed and enjoyed a good night’s sleep. The clock ticked well past midnight and Yifan hadn’t yet arrived, and Zitao’s insides felt as if they were twisting around each other.
At what seemed to be the exact moment Zitao willed his eyes to close, the sound of Yifan fighting with the doorknob jolted him awake. Zitao jumped out of bed and went to Yifan’s aid, unlocking the door and gently opening it so as to not let Yifan fall through the door and hit the ground.
“Oh, you’re awake… did I wake you? I’m sorry,” Yifan said, his eyelids heavy. He stumbled forward a bit and steadied himself with a hand on each of Zitao’s shoulders. “We had a drinking contest.”
“Did you do well?” Zitao asked.
Yifan shook his head. “I don’t drink much. I’m a lightweight.” He let out a sniggering laugh and walked inside, slinging one arm around Zitao’s shoulders and pulling the door shut with the other. “I feel like the room is spinning.”
“I’ll walk you to your bed,” Zitao offered. He pushed Yifan’s bedroom door open and assisted him across the room without stopping to flick the lights on. Yifan sat down on the bed, swaying a bit, and Zitao stood by, knowing he should leave but not wanting to all at the same time. “Yifan?”
“Call me ge,” Yifan responded, grinning. “Yifan is too formal. Call me ge.”
“Okay,” Zitao said, trying not to smile. “Ge?”
“Yes, Zitao,” Yifan replied.
“Can I sleep in your bed tonight? I’m getting kind of anxious and I think it would help if I slept beside you.”
Yifan nodded, and Zitao’s heart did backflips. Drunk Yifan was much kinder than sober Yifan, Zitao decided.
He crawled into Yifan’s bed and pretended not to watch as Yifan tugged off his shirt and undid his pants before kicking them off his feet. With Yifan clad in just his underwear now, Zitao found himself fighting the urge to touch himself - or to touch Yifan.
The urge grew harder to fight when Yifan laid down beside him, facing him, close enough for him to smell the liquor floating off of his breath.
“Ge?”
“Hm?”
“Can I taste what you drank?”
“I don’t think I have any liquor here,” Yifan mumbled.
“I think you do…” In one bold move, Zitao pressed his lips to Yifan’s, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and licking away the remnants of the sweet alcohol.
Zitao braced himself for Yifan to sober up right away and banish him from not just his bed, not just his room, but from the apartment all together. Instead, Yifan stared at Zitao through semi-open eyes and said nothing.
“I really like you, Yifan,” Zitao said, sliding his hand across the few inches of empty mattress that lay between them and placing it on the front of Yifan’s briefs. Yifan’s expression didn’t change, he only continued to stare, even as Zitao began to rub his hand and gently dragged his fingernails against him. “I want to change for you. I want you to love me as much as I love you. That can only happen if I prove to you that I’ve changed, right?”
Yifan still said nothing, though his line of sight drifted down to Zitao’s arm.
“I want to taste you,” Zitao whispered, his breath hitching. “Can I taste you?”
Yifan looked back up at Zitao’s face and nodded a small ‘yes.’ Zitao slipped his hand under the band of Yifan’s underwear and moaned almost inaudibly at the feel of his warmth, half-hard against his palm.
“Go down,” Yifan mumbled, and with his blessing Zitao sank beneath the sheets and tasted with his mouth what he’d previously felt with his hand.
Zitao moaned around him as Yifan put a hand behind his head, guiding him to just how fast and deep he wanted Zitao to go. He felt tears come to his eyes; this was Yifan wanting him. It didn’t matter if Yifan only wanted him because he was too drunk to want otherwise, this was all he wanted. He wanted to treat Yifan like a king, like a savior because he was, and now he could. Now, Yifan wanted him to.
“Ge, I want you inside of me,” Zitao said as he stroked Yifan and pressed kisses into his abdomen.
“Mm-mm,” Yifan muttered in protest. “This is as far as we should go.”
“Please, Yifan,” Zitao begged, whining as he pushed one finger inside of himself. “This isn’t enough. I need more… we both need more…”
“Zitao… maybe it was wrong for me to let you lay down with me,” Yifan said, and Zitao panicked because it sounded like Yifan was becoming less lucid. “We should stop here.”
“Please, Yifan,” Zitao repeated, coming up from beneath the sheets. He started to take off his pajama pants and Yifan shook his head and grabbed at his hands to stop him. “You’ll like it, I promise.”
“Zitao…” Yifan sighed as Zitao pushed him onto his back and straddled him, grinding his naked hips against Yifan’s as he pressed kisses onto his lips.
“I wouldn’t do anything you don’t like,” Zitao said, his breath quickening. He dug his nails into Yifan’s arms with one hand and reached back with the other. “You’ll feel good when you fuck me. I promise you will.” Zitao gasped as he pushed back and moved Yifan a bit deeper inside of him. He pulled him back out and, with spit-laden fingers, slicked himself up, hoping to make them both more comfortable.
Zitao tried again and succeeded, starting slow but speeding up, holding steady to Yifan’s shoulders as he rode him. He grabbed Yifan by the wrist and put his hand to rest on his hip, leaning down to kiss and moan into Yifan’s mouth.
In one swift movement, and without thought, Yifan curled his fists tight around Zitao’s forearms and rolled so that he had Zitao pinned beneath him. Zitao smiled, assuming that this was Yifan giving in, but Yifan stared down at him, breathing heavy, heart pounding against his ribcage, suddenly stone-cold sober.
“Go to your room,” Yifan said quietly, trying in vain to keep his voice from wavering.
The smile fell from Zitao’s face. “Yifan...”
“I’m going to let you go and I’ll give you until the count of five to get out of here and go to your room,” Yifan said. He released Zitao’s arms and moved away. “One... two...”
“Yifan, please,” Zitao whispered, sitting up and grasping for him. Yifan jerked back and away.
“Three! Four!” He hesitated, giving Zitao a severe glare, waiting for him to move.
Zitao’s eyes fell away like a shameful dog’s, and he pulled himself to the bed’s edge and stood up. He glanced back at Yifan before he walked away, hurriedly, and shut the door behind him.
The next morning, Zitao tried to apologize by waking early and cleaning for Yifan. When Yifan emerged from his room and saw Zitao scrubbing away at the countertops, Zitao stopped and smiled shyly.
“I don’t think that leaving you home alone is going to work out,” was all Yifan said before he turned and went into the bathroom, and it was all he needed to say.
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