MDNI with this blog. I'm Atty, I'm 27. welcome, I'm the one who writes sub Zayne and basically nothing else. send me ideas! maybe I will write them. also just send me whatever you want idc.
This is basically a thesis post I wrote about where I think Zayne's lore is going
A Matter of Context (Masterpost link)
Rating: Explicit
Length: 50k+ (ongoing)
Check out the co-author at @void-keeper :)
Thirty floors above the city, Sylus Qin runs a real estate empire built on control, discretion, and appearances. His days are precise, his reputation intact, his grief folded neatly into routines that leave little room for error. What happens after hours is just another habitโprivate, controlled, harmless.
Zayne is a medical student doing what he can to stay afloat. Under the name Jasmine, he performs in anonymous online cam shows, careful to keep his real life separate from the screen. He never expects one of his most consistent viewers to be a man decades older, impossibly wealthy, and very much not anonymous.
They meet by accident.
Heat Signal (Tumblr link)
Rating: Explicit
Length: 15k
โYouโreโฆโ My instincts know exactly what it is, but my brain has a hard time reconciling the evidence in front of me, and assaulting my nose. โBut youโre a beta.โ
Zayne winces. Heโs quiet for a long time before saying anything. โAs Iโm sure you can tellโฆ I am not.โ
โWho else knows?โ
โDr. Noah.โ
โNo one else?โ
โAside from my parents? No.โ
Dessert Spread (Tumblr link)
Rating: Explicit
Length: 3.7k
This one is some Zayne/Sylus.
The only light in Zayneโs large living room comes from the moon shining through the large backdoor window, bathing the space in a soft cool tone, and the bright glow from his phone in his hand, held up by his face as he types away at an email for Aksoโs administration board regarding his departments budget for the quarter. But even as he swipes between excel sheets and copies and pastes various numbers, his eyes are drooping a bit, and his fingers move slowly as he struggles to recall the way he wants to word things. Itโs not something he intends on sending off tonight, but having a rough draft waiting for him when he returns to work will make things easier on him.ย
Zayne yawns, and blinks as a text message pops through, distracting him enough to have his eyes opening a bit wider.ย
Itโs from Sylus.
Frozen Blood (Tumblr link)
Rating: Mature (for violence and blood)
Length: 3.3k
Thus far his eyes have been unable to meet yours, fixed on the ground like heโs afraid to look at you. But at your insistence, they flicker up towards you, dark and almost lifeless, with none of the spark youโre used to seeing. He says nothing, and instead tries to pull his hand from yours. You donโt allow it, tightening your grip, trying to have enough faith and determination for the both of you, because this Zayneโฆ since you found him just a few days ago, seems like heโs given up far before he ever met you.
โIโm going to resonate with youโโ
โNo.โ He is firm as he says it, and tries once again to pull his hand from yours.
Bloom
Rating: Teen
Length: 1.2k
โClearly you needed it. Itโs okay. Youโre cute when youโre sleeping.โ You respond, and he looks like heโs about to retort, but instead he yawns and rubs at his face again.ย
โItโs been a long week. Month.โ Zayne manages once the yawn subsides, and grunts, turning over so he can grab around your middle and press his face into your stomach. His voice becomes muffled now, rumbling against you in a way thatโs almost ticklish. โI missed you.โ
Heartbreaker Attacks! (Tumblr link)
Rating: Explicit
Length: 2.8k
What I expect to see is maybe a bit of frost on his fingertips or creeping up his neck, but instead, when I place my hand tentatively on the small of his back, I realize heโs burning up. Alsoโฆ The moment my fingers make contact with his body, he moans. Iย jerk back almost on instinct, my brow furrowing in confusion. Is he injured there?
Zayne rolls his head to the side, and I can see better how he looks, red and panting. โIโm,โ cough, โfineโฆ You certainly acted quickly.โ
He doesnโt look fine. His pupils are blown, and he has a hazy look in his eyes. My concern grows.
I blink at him. โDid you justโฆโ
He looks away, blushing brighter, โโฆ Yes, I believe so.โ
Eye of the Blizzardย (Tumblr link to chapter 1. Check AO3 for the rest!)
Rating: Teen (so far)
Length: 7 Chapters, 10k words
That girl, from his childhood. The one who stood out in his memories like a warm pastry, like a bright, inescapable light. The one who smiled and laughed, even when he didnโt, who saw the emotions he felt before he knew himself.
โWhy are you crying?โ She asked one day, finding him on the steps of her grandmotherโs house, arms wrapped around his boney knees, head buried in his elbow, his cheeks red. She was bent sideways, almost falling over, balanced on one foot, just to try and catch his eye.
5 Fun Facts about the Prostate!ย (Tumblr link)
Rating: Explicit
Length: 3.8k
"... I don't know. I do know it's a pleasure point in the male body."ย
"Zayne, you are not about to give me an anatomy lesson right now."
Exclusive Tutorialย (Tumblr link)
Rating: Explicit
Length: 2k words
I grin at him and lean in for a soft kiss. โDid you know that you whimper when you come?โ I ask against his lips, pulling him closer by his hips. His softening cock droops between us, and I admire for a moment the lewd image of him exposed, messy, his tie undone and his face red.ย
โI do not.โ Zayne scoffs, and I allow him to finally stand, backing off enough to let him tuck himself into his pants, though I mourn the sight.ย
โYou do. You just did.โ I fold my arms, and he gives me a withering look.ย
Battle Lustย (Tumblr link)
Rating: Mature (No actual smut, but heโs thinking about it)
Length: 1.9k
โI know it hurts, Zayne, but I really, really need you to get up right now.โ Thatโs her voice again, and then he can see her. Right in front of him, holding him halfway off the ground. Thereโs blood smeared across her lips, cheek, and eye, and her hair is ashy with dust, no hint of the real color underneath it all.ย
In and out of dreamsย
Rating: Teen (TW for brief thoughts of suicide)
Length: 1k
The Foreseer is unknowable, he is wise to the secrets of the universe, to the futures and fates of the people in this world around him. Except for his own. Every bit of his life, his future and past are a jumbled mess of moments that he is unable to make sense of.ย
Drabbles
This is just Zayne getting another handjob.ย
Rating: Explicit
Length: About 400?
"Y-you're going to kill me." Zayne gasps, his lax mouth turning up into a small smile as he huffs and puffs. "I'm suing for medical malpractice."ย
Kitten Zayne!!ย (Someone please write this for real for me, I'll love you forever)
Rating: Teen
Length: 200-ish words
"Ah... Right. So that's why everyone's been looking at me funny all afternoon. I forgot."
Unfortunately I was in the ER yesterday (I'm fine but allergic to a toothpaste - don't ask.) and don't have time to upload it fully to tumblr right now. So all you tumblr freaks will have to read this one in full on AO3 this time, sorry.
Masterpost
A/N: Thanksgiving in Aspen is normalโฆUntil Rowan decides to bring up the thing Sylus forgot at home. Oops. Thank you for reading as always and we love you. My eyes are tired. Have a good day!
Her voice lowers. โOne day itโs going to be you. Do you ever think about that?โ
Snowcrow ๐ง NSFW audio~ well, I donโt know what are they doing, you need to use your imagination ๐ณ this one is so hard to put together, not many conversations, justโฆ sounds like they are having fun together ๐คช
Thinking rly hard about snowcrow rn and Zayne begging Sylus to fuck him harder. Like specifically thinking about Zayne hating himself cause he accidentally hurt MC or something and goes to Sylus for "punishment". Goes and tries to rile him up so Sylus will be rough with him. Sylus realizes what's going on and gives in when he sees how desperate Zayne is. Like service top Sylus hurting Zayne because Zayne keeps telling him to.
rating: Explicit [MDNI]
pairing: zayne x sylus
summary: Camboy AU featuring Zayne (mid-20s) and Sylus (early 50s), a corporate CEO navigating grief and legacy. An initially anonymous arrangement slowly evolves into a relationship neither of them intended to make personal. Started as an RP and turned into something far more dramatic. All characters are consenting adults. Please curate accordingly.
tags: #snowcrow #age gap #consenting adults #older man/younger man #emotional intimacy #sexual tension #unresolved romantic tension #alternate universe #character study #corporate setting #past marriage #lavender marriage vibes #children from previous relationship #fluff and smut
co-author: @zayne-li
a/n: Zayne isn't as careful as he thinks he is. A long buried truth comes to light, and Mila reveals a secret she's been keeping. We realized we probably haven't given Mila the screentime she needed up until now. Sylus and Zayne are too busy thinking about fucking like rabbits all the time.
If you would like to be added to a tag list for notifications, please reply to this post. You can also find it on Ao3.
Masterpost
By Tuesday morning, Zayne has decided he is not going to think about Aspen. Not as a rule, exactly. Not in a way that is going to make the shape of the thing he is not allowed to touch a negotiation. More of an intention.ย
He is home. There is snow banked up along the edges of the driveway. Thereโs slightly burnt coffee in the kitchen and a radiator that knocks as if something inside the wall is trying to get out. Caleb is being way too loud over breakfast. Mila is laughing.ย
Itโs all familiar enough to make him feel like a person. Or close to one.ย
He doesnโt have to be angry at himself. He doesnโt have to sit in his childhood bedroom and reassemble every second in Colorado. He doesnโt have to decide whether Sylus had handled it badly or kindly or badly enough in a kind way. He doesnโt have to decide anything.ย
There are enough people around to interrupt him before his thoughts get out of hand, anyway.ย
Caleb already does this naturally by existing. Mila does it more gently. Asks if he wants tea. How he slept. If he wants to come with them to the store later, because Caleb claims they need snacks and coffee that isnโt the strong wake-the-dead kind his parents had brought back from Guatemala.ย
Sweet Potato has developed the habit of using a wooden spoon as a weapon, which Zayneโs parents donโt seem to think much ofโand no matter how many times Zayne or Caleb hide it, the more the monkey thinks itโs a game to find it and launch it at them.ย
By early afternoon, the house has settled into that strange pre-holidays rhythm where everyone is technically doing something, but no one is moving with any real urgency. Caleb gets sucked into some errand with his father that will test both of their patience. Mila is in the kitchen with her sleeves pushed up, washing something by hand even though the dishwasher works perfectly well.ย
Zayne takes this as an opportunity to have a shower. It's an odd hour to be taking one, but due to the holiday it's easier to justify doing something simply because he feels like it. And there's nothing else going on, he decides he might as well before his dad and Caleb decide tonight is going to be balmy enough to justify a campfire.ย
Taking his shirt off in the mirror, Zayne is confronted with the fact that, yes, he is most definitely covered in various love bites still. Over his chest, abdomen, the hollow of his throat, his shoulders, which are apparently Sylus' favorite place to bite down. And he finds that his only regret about having them is that some of them are beginning to fade, and he doesn't know when he'll be given more.
The isolation in the heat and steam is nice. A moment of pure quiet where he briefly stops worrying about whether his loved ones are talking about him while he isn't in the room. As he's scrubbing his hair, he hears his phone buzzing on the counter. It isn't until he gets out that he finds it's a text from Sylus, because who else would it be?
Zayne is rubbing his head with a towel when he opens it, and can't help huffing a small laugh.ย
What are you wearing?
Straight to the point, no context, no explanation. Just a request.ย
And feeling a little cheeky, he swipes open the camera, holding it up to make it very clear that the answer is nothing. Towel over one shoulder, still soft and flushed and dripping water.
He takes the photo and sends it off without anything else attached, then sets down his phone and sets about the task of shaving his face clean.
On the counter, his phone vibrates three times in quick succession, but Zayne ignores it. Once he's dressed, he takes a glance and sees the words โnaughtyโ, โkittenโ, and โlesson.โย
They go unanswered.
Outside, the sun is still up, barely hanging low enough to make the afternoon feel like the beginning of the evening. Zayne notices at the top of the landing as he glances out the window.
He opens the door to his bedroom and stops. Not because his mother is standing in the middle of the room, no.ย
Itโs because she has a shirt held up between her hands. And for a second, Zayneโs brain refuses to connect the image. His suitcases sit open on the floor, clothes he had not yet folded gone from a lump on the bed into piles. Some are his. Some are very clearly things he would have not owned a month ago.ย
His mother turns at the sound of the door.ย
โOh,โ she says, as if he has interrupted her doing something perfectly ordinary and not coming up with conclusions in her head. โThere you are.โย
โWhat are you doing?โ
โYou didnโt put your clothes away when you got home.โ She gives him the look she has given him since he was twelve and apparently incapable of putting anything where she believed it belonged. โTheyโll wrinkle.โย
His mother smooths the shirt across her forearm, thumb catching briefly on the tag still tucked along the seam. Her expression shifts. Not much.ย
โWhere did you get this, Zaynie?โย
Zayneโs pulse gives one hard, stupid knock. His mouth twists into a frown from her use of the nickname. โItโs just a shirt.โย
โI can see that. Itโs a little small for you, donโt you think?โย
โI can put my own clothes away.โย
โI know you can.โ His mother smooths the front of the shirt with her thumb. โI was just helping.โ She looks at him. Not sharply. Not yet. Just with the mild surprise of someone who has known him too long.ย
โWell, they were on my bed.โ As if that helps the argument any further. Not that he ever had much of the nerve to argue with either of his parents.ย
โZayne.โ His mother exhales through her nose, then lifts the shirt a little higher, looking at the price tag again, flipping it over. โAll I did was ask where you got thisโฆfour hundred dollar Ralph Lauren shirt.โ She blinks at the tag, and then shakes her head slightly as if she canโt imagine a piece of linen costing so much.ย
He crosses the room and reaches for it. โMom.โย
She lets him take it, but not before turning the tag between her fingers again.ย
Zayne knew she had the right to question the strangeness of it all, if not only for the fact her husband has worn the same Toronto sweater for over twenty years. She seemed even more confused now that her son hasnโt given her the straight to the point answers she was used to.ย
In Aspen, the store itself was absurd. Even if he was already used to being told โget whatever you want.โ Zayne remembered looking over to Luke, and something on his face must have betrayed him, for he had never seen another person spring into action so fast and pull something random off the rack with barely a glance.ย
He finds a hanger quickly and shoves the shirt into the nearly empty closet, sliding the door shut even with the other things that still needed to be put away. He doesnโt turn back right away, mostly because he knows his mothers face is dangerously neutral. It isnโt even something he has to to guess. But he doesnโt want her to look at his face anymore just yet.ย
โIt was a gift,โ he starts, not exactly a lie, but enough of one that makes him not want to look while he says it. โRafayel gave it to me.โ
โAn expensive gift, isnโt it?โ
Zayne bites the inside of his cheek, refusing to inhale sharply and give his increasing impatience away. Forcing his face to relax, he turns, not quite yet looking his mother in the eye and pushing his glasses up his nose instead.ย
โMoney doesnโt matter like that to some people,โ he says. โHe bought it because he liked it and it didnโt fit. Thatโs all. Thereโs nothing special about it.โ
It's a strange sort of nostalgia, getting used to the dark again. The way the sun would already be setting as the three of them walked home from school. How the neighborhood kids would always start playing night games on the street right after dinner. How all the adults always got tired so early.ย
But it's light enough, and the street is familiar and safe enough that it doesn't seem strange when Mila asks to go on a walk with him. The mere implication of going out with her alone is really the only thing that gives him pause.ย
โYou don't want to bring Caleb along?โ Zayne asks, and blinks when she shakes her head.
โHe has an assignment he still needs to finish before the break is over. We have some time.โ
Zayne doesn't know what that means exactly, but it makes him nervous. He tells his mother that they'll be back later, and she nods but doesn't look at him, which is foreboding. There's a sinking feeling in his stomach that he's really not fooling anyone in his life that something is different, and sooner or later he will have to give them answers.ย
It's quiet as he follows Mila outside and trails half a step behind. Little wisps of hair stick out from the beanie she shoved over her head, hands in both pockets of her coat.
It feels too much like those years ago, when everything was easier. And really, that time wasn't even that long ago. Just 3, 4 earlier and they would be walking down this very same street. Caleb and Zayne quietly fighting for her attention, and she would notice but wouldn't say anything about it.ย
The night before they all left for school, spent at the park just around the corner. Mila on the swings, Caleb pushing her, Zayne besides them with his toes in the ground and his eyes low while they reminisced and anticipated a new start. It had been a happy night, a celebration, because they would all still be together. There were no sad goodbyes. The three of them were all they needed.ย
Caleb had brought a six pack, and they each had two. The hours crept by unnoticed, because it was always dark here anyway, and besides, they were too busy teasing each other about the times they embarrassed themselves.ย
He remembers, vividly, watching her that night. How her skin glowed a rosy pink from the alcohol, how bright and carefree her laugh was. He remembers falling in love with her all over again in that moment. How lucky he felt, to be one of the two people she counted as hers. That was something Mila always made clear to the two of them: they weren't going to be able to get rid of her. As if either of them would ever want to be anywhere but by her side.
It makes this moment, in the here and now feel all the more melancholy. Makes him feel more guilty for the way he's acted since Josephine passed away, since she finally made her choice and it wasn't him.
When exactly did he stop trusting her with himself? Was it then? When she burned brighter with Caleb by her side, and Zayne was alone in his room, selling himself for strangers to enjoy?
Perhaps that's part of the reason he agreed to start doing the live streams in the first place, after Rafayel mentioned it almost as a joke. If he wasn't saving himself for Mila anymore, then what worth did his body really have?ย
A few hundred bucks a month, as it turns out. Over a period of seven months the average cost of himself is exactly $345.86 per month. Though he hasn't done the math since Sylus began donating, and that's sure to skew the numbers by a sizable margin.ย
There is one thing being home is already showing him, though. He's being unfair to those who have been everything to him his entire life. Avoiding them because he is afraid of his own inadequacy, afraid to admit he has been selfish with his own feelings. Because he can't handle the idea of being alone, that he's never bothered to imagine what he would do if he couldn't have Mila. And yet when the time came, he was a coward. He has been a coward for so long, of course she would choose Caleb.ย
Caleb knows what he wants and he doesn't hesitate to reach for it. Zayne had been waiting for her to reach for him.
And perhaps that's what has drawn him so deeply into Sylus' world. It fulfills his pathetic desire to be pursued, to be wanted. It's unfair of him, to avoid his friends for something he doesn't even know is real.
Aspen should be a wake up call for him that he will never really belong in Sylus' world. He may exist as a shadow, a secret, cared for in the dark, but never out in the open.ย
Never in the way he'd always dreamed of bringing Mila home and being able to introduce her as his girlfriend. Of driving up the mountains for the view just to spend the whole time kissing her. Of proposing to her on top of that very same mountain.ย
Idle dreams. Pointless, in the end. The same as any dream would be with Sylus, if he thinks about it for too long. He doesn't dream of romancing Sylus, of courting him. He dreams of the things Sylus could do to him. Of being treated roughly, pinned down by a warm, heavy body. Of the filthy things he likes to say.
Before long, he knows exactly where they're going. Up a hill at the end of the road that technically belongs to one of the neighbors, but who never cared that the kids always came here to watch the aurora at night. It's far enough away from the rest of the houses that it becomes pitch black. Possibly dangerous, but at least there's always plenty of snow to catch a fall.
There's no telling whether they'll see one tonight, but there's always a chance. Benefits of living in a small rural area.ย
Neither of them speak until they get to the top of the hill. Someone, or more likely someones have taken the time to build up a little bench made out of densely packed snow. Mila sits, and looks up at him when he hesitates, patting the spot beside her. Zayne acquiesces.ย
โSo.โ She begins, but does not continue.
โSo?โ Zayne pushes up his glasses and zips his coat higher. Any conversation that starts with โsoโ tends to indicate it will be going on for some time.
He sees a puff of breath in his periphery and turns to see her frowning at him. Like he should know why they're both here. He doesn't, only because he doesn't know which of several possibilities she wants to talk about.ย
Mila looks like she's chewing on her words too, trying to decide how to start. Her brows are pulled together, and her shoulders hunched the way they get when she's upset about something.ย
Eventually, she apparently decides that subtly is not the name of the evening, โI'm not an idiot, you know. Not like Caleb is.โ
Outwardly, Zayne is calm, but he feels his heart rate pick up. โI know.โ
โYou've been distant.โย
A tap of his thumb on his thigh, and he finds he can't quite meet her gaze, pretending there's a hangnail on one of his fingers.ย
โI know.โ Softer, this time. Really, he doesn't even know where to begin if this is the route she wants to go down.ย
There's another heavy breath beside him, and she's quiet for a bit longer. Zayne imagines it must be frustrating to talk to himself.ย
โEver since we started dating, you've been pulling away.โ
Ah. There it is. He can hear his pulse in his ears now.ย
This is not a conversation he wants to have, has ever wanted to have. The only consolation is that by the way her eyes finally drop into her own lap, fingers tangled together, he knows that she doesn't either. It heralds only one thing: heartbreak on both sides.
Zayne can't meet her eyes.
But he can smell her perfume as she leans closer to still his fidgeting hands. It's sweet and sugary, probably called something like โchristmas cookieโ. It's a familiar smell, and doesn't that just make it worse?
โMilaโฆโ His voice is apprehensive, โwe don't have to talk about this.โ
โYes we do, Zayne. We do have to talk about this, because you're my best friend, and I love you, and I feel likeโฆโ There's a tightness in his chest as he hears her voice grow thicker, โI feel like I'm losing you right now.โ
โI'm right here.โ He says, but it's unconvincing to even his own ears.
โZayne. Look at me.โ Her cold hand lands on his cheek and turns him towards her so he can't look away.
Mila looks at him with maybe the worst expression she could be: pity.ย
He hates that.
Every bit of him feels useless. Homeless, in a way. Halfway a part of everyone's lives, belonging nowhere. None of them know everything. And the thought of being honest with her is terrifying.
โWhat do you want me to say?โ Zayne asks, feeling helpless under her penetrating gaze.ย
โThe truth.โย
โYou already know. What good will saying out loud do?โย
She shakes her head, an almost imperceptible movement, โI don't know, but I need to hear it and I think you need to say it.โย
As always, Mila is perceptive and sensitive, and once she has her mind set to something, there is no getting away from it.ย
The problem is that he isn't sure he has the strength to say those words. Isn't sure he is selfish enough to give that old desire a name.ย
โZayneโฆโ she says again, and strokes his cheek with her thumb. His eyes drift closed at the feeling. โPlease.โ
When he opens them again, his throat feels thick and there's a burning at the back of his eyes. He knows this is the moment, the only question is how long it takes him to work up the courage to say it.ย
Before he can stop himself, he's mirroring her, his own chilled fingers caressing a rosy cheek, dotted with freckles. Their foreheads press together, cushioned by their beanies, and his shaky breath fills the air between them.
โI love you.โ It isn't easy to force out, but he does, and it feels like there's a boulder in his stomach. โI always have.โ
โI know.โ Is her simple reply, soft. Her thumb keeps stroking at his cheekbone.ย
There's no use pretending to be surprised. They both knew, for quite some time now, she's always been able to read him better than most. It's one of the things that draws him to her. Being understood, despite his strangeness at times.ย
โIt's been difficult for you. To be around us.โ Not a question, a statement. It doesn't need to be asked, only acknowledged. Zayne nods, and feels miserable.ย
That is, until her forehead shifts against his own, and then her breath is much closer, warmer. His own catches in his throat as he tilts closer too. A question. Tentative, in this quiet, private moment. The moment feels more like a dream than reality. They move slowly, dancing around it, unsure.
And then the question is answered. Her lips press against his own, featherlight, and because Zayne is terrible and selfish, he meets her. It is not the way he ever wanted his first kiss with her to go. When they were younger he used to imagine it happening under the bleachers, like in movies, or during a school dance.ย
This way, it feels more like a goodbye rather than the beginning he wanted it to be.ย
And yet, he doesn't know what it means to her, if anything at all. If she ever felt the same. If he ever had a chance.ย
Behind them, the sky begins to glow, drawing bright green ribbons between the stars.ย
When they part, there are tears in both of their eyes. Not falling, but they make hers glitter.ย
โI'm sorry, Zayne.โ
His smile is little and sad, โNever apologize for your own happiness.โ Whether it hurts him or not, this is exactly what he has been trying to avoid. Pity, or guilt, for feeling like she's taken something from him that never belonged to him in the first place.ย
Mila takes a deep, steadying breath and nods, letting his face go so she can scoot closer and lean against his shoulder.ย
โThere's actually something else I brought you out here for.โ She admits after a moment, as they both turn their gaze to the aurora. It is much brighter than it was in Aspen. Funny, how the two moments feel so similar in his heart.ย
โOh dear.โ Zayne says, and is pleased to hear Mila laugh at his response.ย
โI'm pregnant.โ
He goes still again. Whether or not to offer a congratulations he isn't sure, based on her tone.
โOh.โ A beat. โAre you keeping it?โย
A long inhale that he can feel expanding her chest against his shoulder. She takes his fingers and toys with them idly, a habit from when they were children.ย
โYeah. I am.โย
โCongratulations, then. You'll make a wonderful mother.โ And he does mean that wholeheartedly. Mila has always been the right blend of gentle and strict, of feisty and protective. She'll teach her children to hold themselves in high regard, and at the same time tell them when they are wrong.ย
She squeezes his hand. โThanks Zayne. That means a lot coming from you.โ
โDoes Caleb know?โย
โNot yet. I only found out a few days ago, before we left. Kept getting sick in the mornings, so I bought a test. And before you ask, yes, I got three of them, all different brands.โ He chuckles, and turns his hand over to squeeze back.
โWhen are you planning on telling him?โย
โI don't knowโฆ would it be weird if I said something on Thanksgiving?โ
Zayne hums, โThat depends on whether or not you want pregnancy advice from an orthopedic surgeon and a pediatric oncologist.โ
Now Mila laughs, โThey wouldn't be that bad, would they? It might even be helpful.โ
โI know my parents would both be thrilled to hear the news, if you wanted to share it. Maybe it would get them off my back.โ
โOh yeah!โ Mila shoots upright, surprising him, and gives him the same look his mom did earlier today. It makes him shrink back. โThat reminds me: whoโs Sylus?โ
Right now, Sylus is the last thing he wants to talk about.
The women in his life are too perceptive. For the first time ever, he finds himself wishing he was surrounded by Caleb's. Zayne rubs at the spot between his eyebrows.ย
โNo one.โ
โNo one? Is that why you looked like you were going to throw up in the car yesterday?โ She raises a brow.ย
Damn.
Zayne sighs, โSomeone I met.โ
She looks unimpressed by his answer. In fact, she looks almost like his mother, and clearly wants more information than that. But she also knows him, and knows it's impossible to get information out of him before he's ready to offer it.ย
โDo you love him?โ
No question about his supposed sexuality, no confusion about the fact that he's just admitted that he's in love with her, and has been for the better part of a decade. Just curiosity.ย
Does he love Sylus? It's a question he has been avoiding looking in the face, and he does so now as well.ย
โI don't know.โ He says, as he looks back at the sky. The northern lights begin to fade. Now, more than before he feels the similarity to this moment and that one with Sylus. Can remember the feeling of holding him in his arms, of the soft intimacy of both these moments.ย
Maybe there is something magical in the aurora, in the way it reminds you how unimportant so many things really are.ย
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapter Word Count: 7600
Fic Summary: They call him โDawnbreaker,โ โThe Grim Reaper.โ The one who strikes with black ice and no hesitation. In his dreams, he sees a man named Sylus and a legendary love he could never hope to possess. When a man wearing his face crosses reality to tell him that Sylus is real and a vengeful god is out for blood, Zayne is pulled into a conflict that could be his only hope to find his Sylus and heal this broken world.
Chapter Summary: Human, god, immortal. All have a place as the Battle for Reality chooses its victors.
rating: Explicit [MDNI]
pairing: zayne x sylus
summary: Camboy AU featuring Zayne (mid-20s) and Sylus (early 50s), a corporate CEO navigating grief and legacy. An initially anonymous arrangement slowly evolves into a relationship neither of them intended to make personal. Started as an RP and turned into something far more dramatic. All characters are consenting adults. Please curate accordingly.
tags: #snowcrow #age gap #consenting adults #older man/younger man #emotional intimacy #sexual tension #unresolved romantic tension #alternate universe #character study #corporate setting #past marriage #lavender marriage vibes #children from previous relationship #fluff and smut
co-author: @zayne-li
a/n: The winter stretch in Fairbanks is deeply isolating but also intimate. A room can feel like the only warm object in the world. Zayne returning from Aspen feels familiar, but the dark makes everything feel sealed off. The Thanksgiving Arc has officially started.
(โฅ แด โฅ) We are assigning you all homework and that homework is to watch Fellow Travelers because I promise you'll get it. I promise.
If you would like to be added to a tag list for notifications, please reply to this post. You can also find it on Ao3.
Masterpost
Anchorage meets Zayne with the kind of cold that makes his lungs remember he has a body. Twenty-something degrees and nearly pitch-black by four.
He looks at the business card Gideon pulls up on his phone. Something with stolen stock images of rainbows over mountains and a Cessna flying dangerously low.ย
โDenali Flight-seeing?โ he asks, looking up at the pilot over his glasses.ย
โItโs the week of Thanksgiving, kid.โ Gideonโs expression doesnโt change. โHe wanted Fairbanks tonight. This is who answered.โย
โAnd they do charters?โย
โTonight, they do. Wait here for the car. Transfers at Merrill.โย
No other explanation. Just a polite, โHappy holidaysโ before he disappears, leaving Zayne alone in the tiny private terminal with two desk workers and an older woman in a fur coat giving them hell over something. A well-dressed man in a chauffeur's cap waits beside her, hands folded neatly in front of him. Zayne understands immediately.ย
Being near rich people, apparently, did not make anyone feel less adjacent.ย
With a huff, he pulls the scarf from around his neck. It still smells too much like clean sheets and cologne. Too much like the suite. Like a hand at the back of his neck and a voice telling him where to stand, what to pack, how to fuck and when to leave. He shoves it into his pocket along with the gloves he had been wearing, then mentally zips Aspen back up.
For the moment, at least.
Slumping into one of the seats, he pulls his phone from his pocket and turns airplane mode off. Notifications bloom across the screen almost immediately, too many of them, but his thumb ignores all of it and goes straight for Rafayelโs contact.
Rafayel answers on the third ring. โWell?โ
He doesnโt even wait for Rafayel to get started. If he doesnโt get it out of the way now, he will never hear the end of it.
โThank you, again.โ Zayne says.
โYeah, well, I went to the bar with them at least two times this week because you were too busy with your research papers.โ A pause. โBy the way, my other excuse was that you were posing nude for me for my still life thesis.โ
Zayne presses his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose, resisting the urge to let out the sigh he has been holding for the entire flight.
โThatโs not technically a lie. I did finish them early.โ
โSo whatโs wrong then, show off? Daddy boring you already?โ
โIโm home.โ
The words come out wrong. Something too flat. Too final. He is not home yet, technically. But it is the closest thing to home he has been all week. All year. He is sitting beside two suitcases, one of which he did not own three days ago, wearing a wool coat like a correction. Charcoal, knee-length, expensive in a way that did not announce itself until his fingers found the lining. Smooth buttons. Heavy seams. A collar that turned up neatly against the cold instead of folding badly like every coat he had ever owned.
โI thought you werenโt going home till Sunday night,โ Rafayel says.
โDidnโt work out that way.โ
In a rare instance, Rafayel seems to pause and choose his words very carefully. Even if they are, โFuck him.โ
โNo, I meanโโ
โNo, I understood what you meant,โ Rafayel says. โIโm choosing the broader interpretation.โ
Zayne closes his eyes. โDonโt.โ
That softens him. Or at least, it makes Rafayel quiet in a different way.
โWhat happened?โ
Zayne looks down at the weekender. Then at the old suitcase beside it. โHis children came early.โ
โOh.โ
โThey werenโt supposed to be there until later. Monday, I think.โ His throat tightens around the explanation, which is stupid. It isnโt difficult information. Itโs just information. โThey showed up. It was handled.โ
He hates that word, handled, the moment it leaves his mouth.
โHe arranged for me to leave before anyone saw me.โ Zayneโs thumb presses against the side of his phone. The words hadn't come out right.
โHe sent me away,โ he tries again. The sentence sits there, just as ugly as the one before it. Incomplete. Unfair. He knows that as soon as he says it. Sylus had not been cruel. Had not looked relieved, either. If anything, he had looked like every part of the decision had cost him more than he wanted Zayne to notice. But that is not the same thing as being asked to stay.
โZayneโฆโ
Zayne swallows. โNo. Thatโs notโhe arranged for me to get home. It was complicated.โ
โWas it complicated, or was he complicated?โ
Outside the glass, Alaska is dark and wet and practical. Nothing like Aspen. Nothing like the suite. Nothing like the life Zayne had briefly, stupidly let himself stand inside.
โI donโt know. Itโs fine.โ His voice lowers. โI just have to call someone to come get me when I get to town.โ
His childhood home sits off of Chena Ridge Road, fair enough away from town that the show seemed cleaner and the quiet had room to spread. A pale two-story house tucked back away from the road with a garage big enough for cars his parents were rarely home enough to drive.ย
Unfortunately, he would have to wait till the next day to see the views from outside his window of the surrounding ridge-lines. On the ride home he is met with the lights of Fairbanks low in the dark, the hills blue black beyond it.ย
By the time they pull into the garage, Zayne has already answered every question his father asks.
Hungry?
No.
Cold?
No.
Did you sleep?
Some.
There was no questioning regarding early arrivals. Not yet, anyway. But between the two of his parents, Zayne supposes he never had much hope of being mysterious.ย
Jace Li could be strange. Frequently. Publicly, on occasion. But he also knows when to sweep eggshells under the rug and not to start a fire where there shouldnโt be one. He had often tried to convince Zayne that mild delinquency was an important developmental milestone, yet had never pushed despite all of his enthusiastic advocacy of low-stakes teenage rebellion. He knew how to offer a door without shoving someone through it.ย
So even now, in the garage, he does not ask Zayne why he came home early, if anything had happened. He just sits with both hands still on the steering wheel and says, โYour mother went to bed early.โย
His mother would have asked. Not immediately, and not carelessly, but she would have asked too soon. Watch his face and his hands in a way he is much too tired for tonight.ย ย
There is already enough Zayne feels like he has to process. The day feels longer than it should, stretched thin by cabin pressure and the unreality of looking down at the world from thirty thousand feet through almost all of it. All while feeling some vital part of himself was left behind in Colorado.ย
Boots off by the door. Suitcases brought upstairs. His father leaves him in the hall with a hand briefly pressed between Zayne's shoulders before going back to whatever it was he had been doing before being dragged from the house to the airport.ย ย
In his old room, he wastes no time pulling off his coat. The old one. Dark green, too bulky through the shoulders, the one he swapped into before getting on the plane to Fairbanks. A childish attempt to feel better. He throws it over the desk chair and watches it become a shapeless heap. Then he exhales, quiet and uneven, and shuts the door behind him while pulling his phone from his pocket and unlocks it. The light from the screen reflects off his glasses. No notifications.ย
The message he sends Sylus is simple.ย
Iโm home.ย
Thatโs it. No explanation or punctuation that might imply too much. No apology or comment on the flights or the cold or him standing in his childhood bedroom. He sends it before he can revise it into something worse or not send anything.ย Then he tosses the phone onto the bed and mentally begs it not to slip into the narrow space between the mattress and the wall, because the last thing he needs tonight is to go digging for it like an idiot. Itโs a small mercy when it lands face up.ย
Zayne sits on the edge of the bed and pulls his glasses off. The room softens immediately, familiar shapes blurring at the edges. Desk. Bookshelf. Old curtains. The quilt on the narrow bed he had slept in for years, though now it all feels smaller than he remembers. Or maybe he is just too aware of having been somewhere else. Too aware of the suite at The Little Nell. Of firelight. The humiliating absence of the hands that had been all over him.ย
Of the hotel manager catching him on the way out, pressing a snow globe into his hand like a parting gift and not something you hand off in a hurry to the guest of one of your top clients.ย
Inside the glass had been a tiny range of white-capped mountains. Perfect beneath a snowfall that would never melt. It currently sits buried beneath clothes that had been packed too quickly. A small piece of Aspen dragged all the way back to Alaska with him.ย
Zayne sets his glasses on the nightstand. He pushes down his jeans and kicks them to the side. Pulls off his sweater next, the thermal layer beneath thin and soft in a way that still feels too aware of every temperature change.ย
He does not change properly, brush his teeth, shower, unpack. Either too tired or avoiding opening suitcases and touching anything inside. He can do it tomorrow. Probably.ย For now heโs content to lay exactly as he is, half-dressed, his body finally still underneath the heavy patchwork quilt after a day that lasted far longer than it should have.ย
He must fall asleep at some point. Enough for the room to lose its edges, for thought to become a slow and shapeless thing he can stop touching.ย
And then the phone ringsโZayne wakes with a start, and for one disoriented second has no idea where he is, or where his phone is.ย He reaches for it once everything takes shape, narrowly knocking it into the void between the wall and the mattress again; fingers catch the edge before it can slip.ย The screen lights in his hand. He squints at the name, still half-blind from sleep.
"No thanks," He says to himself as he jabs the volume button to silence the ringer.ย But as soon as he shoves the phone under his pillow settles back against it, the ringing starts again. This time Zayne answers before he can let it stop.ย
โYes?โย
The pause on the other end is just enough for Zayne to hear the faint shift of breathing, the small adjustment of someone holding a phone too close.ย
โI woke you,โ Sylus says.
โNo.โย
A quiet exhale thatโs almost a laugh, but too tired to become one.ย
โI fell asleep in the living room,โ Sylus says. โI saw your message late.โย
โCongratulations. My father does the same thing.โ Zayne lies there with the phone pressed too hard to his ear, staring at the wall.ย
โDoes he?โย
โYes. Usually in a chair with the television on. Like the elderly.โย
โWow,โ another faint breath. This one is closer to amusement.ย
โThatโs probably what he would say too.โย
Zayne closes his eyes again, already regretting that he answered and knowing that somehow it would have been worse if he didnโt.ย
โYou called twice,โ he points out.
โI did,โ Sylus says.ย
โSo you were committed to bothering me.โย
โYes.โย
That answer is too honest. Zayne opens his eyes again. The wall is still there. Pale and unhelpful in the dark.ย
โI didnโt call to bother you,โ Sylus says after a moment.
โYou just said you were committed to it.โย
โI said yes because arguing with you when youโre half-asleep seems unwise.โย
Zayne turns his face further toward the wall. His old bedroom smells faintly like laundry detergent and cedar sachets his mother still insists on putting in the drawers. Everything here is suddenly too familiar to be comforting, or at least fit inside it properly.ย
โI didnโt disappear,โ he points out.ย
โI called because I thought you might after today.โย
That lands badly mostly because he had. Zayne was ready to let the text do the work. Make arrival fact instead of conversation. To be home. To be safe. To be angry or hurt or humiliated or whatever this is in a roomย where no one could see the shape of it. Figure it out and take the time to reason with himself once he had gotten rest.ย
Except maybe Sylus had already seen enough already, maybe more than that.ย
โIโm sorry,โ Zayne says.ย
โFor what? Thatโs not usually how apologies work.โย
โI donโt know. Iโm tired.โย
โI know.โย
Zayne swallows, annoyed by the gentleness more than he would be by anything else. He almost wants a correction. A sharp edge. Something he can push against without feeling ridiculous for needing to push at all. Instead heโs given room, and that only makes him bite the inside of his cheek in consideration.
โI know why you did it,โ he finds himself saying. โI think.โย
Sylus does not answer.ย
โIt would have been weird.โ As if that covers earlier when Sylus was half dressed with him tucked away in the bathroom putting on his clothes wrong. Zayne understands that. But understanding does not help.ย
โIt just...made me feel like I wasnโt a person,โ he says.ย
He is met with silence again.ย
Then Sylus says, โI know.โย
โNo, you donโt. Youโre not me, so you donโt know.โย
โYouโre right. Iโm sorry, Zayne.โย
There it is again. Soft. Careful. Almost unbearable in a way that makes Zaynes hand tighten around the phone. Somehow itโs worse than arguing. He inhales sharply.ย
โIโm not a child. You sent me away like I was one.โ
โI did.โ No defense. Just there. Acknowledged.ย
Zaynes grip tightens around the phone. His skin feels tight under the thermal, the quilt suddenly heavy over his legs. He knows there are reasons. Of course there are reasons. Sylus is almost entirely made of reasons. He had been aware of them all along, yet here he was. It wasnโt like he had been forced off the cam-site and onto that jet to Aspen.
โDonโt explain it,โ he says.ย
โI wasnโt going to.โย
โYes, you were.โย
Sylus exhales, and Zayne imagines him running a hand down his face, or through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck. โYouโre right.โย
โI just told you. I know why,โ Zayne continues. โOr enough of why. Iโm not stupid.โย
โI know youโre not. When have I said that?โย
Zayne hears the question but chooses to ignore the truth in it. โThen donโt make me listen to all the reasons that it made sense to you.โย
Thereโs the sound of movement on the other end, Sylus sitting up against the headboard, maybe. Zayne canโt tell if the quiet is a good thingโwishes he could see his face to confirm it.ย
โThey can all be true,โ he says, โIt can all make sense, and still make me feel like that.โย
โYes.โ The answer is immediate. โAnd Iโm sorry,โ Sylus says. โFor that. I didnโt bring you to Aspen because you were easy to hide. I wanted you there.โ
The words do not fix it, as much as they sound like they should. They do not make the week disappear, the closeness, or the neatness of being sent away after standing in a bathroom.ย
โWhat can I do?โ Sylus asks, voice soft again. โIf you could have anything in the world right now, tell me what it is.โย
Zayne huffs. โLet me go back to sleep.โย
Sylus gives a low, tired sound. Not quite a laugh, but close enough. โAlright.โย
Zayne turns in the other direction, settling one arm under the pillow while keeping the phone to his ear.ย
โDonโt send me anything,โ he adds.ย
โI wonโt.โย
โDonโt arrange anything else, either.โย
โOkay.โย
โDonโt call again tonight.โย
โGot it.โย
The answers come easily. No argument or negotiation. That helps more than whatever Sylus had been trying to offer.ย
โGood,โ Zayne says, but itโs lost most of its edge. For now.ย
He'd offered to go pick up Caleb and Mila before either of his parents could protest. Saying something about how it was the least he could do if they'd all be staying here for the week, and when his mother tried to tell him all that they needed was his presence, he used the excuse that he was just excited to see them.
To his mother and father, who rarely see their son express excitement about anything at all, it's a good enough reason. He's not excited to see them, because he knows he'll have to explain himself to them as well. All he can hope for is that his abrupt arrival and disappearance the week before don't become a topic of conversation between the four of them.ย
For a little while, the drive does ease his nerves, and makes him aware that it's the first time in over a week he's had more than a few minutes alone. In Aspen, Sylus was always there, even if he was in the other room. Strange how quickly he had grown used to someone else around him so often, when most of his time tends to be spent alone. Ironic that he finds it uncomfortable now.ย
When he gets to the airport, he gets a text from Mila that they're still waiting for their luggage, and takes two more laps around before he pulls up and sees them standing near gate 3. They don't recognize his dad's car, but Caleb waves with a grin when he catches sight of Zayne behind the wheel as he pulls up. Chivalrously, he has all of their bags hanging off of his arm, and a suitcase in both hands.
Zayne gives them both a nod as he pulls up, unlocking the car and pressing the button to open the trunk.ย
Before he can make any attempt at small talk, Caleb already has his mouth open.ย
โLong time no see Zaynie, why didn't you tell us you were leaving early?โ He calls through the open air between the trunk and the driver's seat. It's frigid outside, and the cold Alaskan winter blows straight through the heater.ย
โIt slipped my mind.โ Zayne says, unwilling to try and offer an explanation. His finger taps on the steering wheel before he realizes he should turn down the radio.ย
โYeah, Raf told us,โ Caleb is distracted fitting their luggage into the back, and though his thought is half finished, looks behind him, โthat everything, baby?โ
โJust this,โ Mila tosses in the small bag on her shoulder, and slamming the trunk shut, they both make their way back around to hop in; Caleb in the back and Mila beside Zayne in the passenger seat.ย
โHere,โ Zayne hands her his phone, open to the Spotify app so she can pick something else to listen to. He's aware that his music choices are not either of their favorites. Mila has grown to like Sleep Token, due to osmosis from him, but Caleb prefers Sabrina Carpenter and Taylor Swift.ย
Milaโs taste in music is a bearable middle ground for both of them.ย
โHow was your flight?โ He asks, checking the rear view mirrors and flicking on the blinker to pull back onto the road.ย
โToo long!โ Caleb groans, stretching his long arms as much as he can in the cramped space of the car. โAnd there was a kid kickinโ my seat the whole time too.โ
Mila, meanwhile, focuses on scrolling through Zayne's playlists until she decides on something inoffensive to them all.ย
Then, because of course it does, his phone vibrates in her hand, and Zayne's eyes automatically flick over to see her reading whatever message has just popped up at the top of the screen. Anxiety twists his gut so quickly he feels a bit nauseous.ย
Please let it be Rafayel saying something meaningless and non-incriminating, please don't let it be that stupid oldโ
โSylus says, โgive me a call when you have time.โโ Mila announces to the whole car, and for a second Zayne forgets how to breathe, hearing her say his name. It doesn't belong here. Not on her lips. โDo you want me to message him back?โ
โNo.โ Zayne answers too fast, and then clears his throat. The last thing he needs her to see is their message thread. โI'll reply when we get home.โ
As horrifying as the moment is for him, neither of his passengers seem to notice, and Mila clicks the screen off and sets his phone back down in the center console, turning her sights out of the window.ย
โYou know, next time you have Rafayel make up excuses for you, you should probably be more specific. You know what he told us?โ She asks, looking back towards him with a grin.ย
It helps ease some of the tension in his shoulders to have the subject changed so easily, and with no effort on his part.ย
โI haven't posed nude for any of his paintings, if that's what he said.โ Zayne shakes his head. Of course. Why, of all things, would Rafayel lie about that?ย
The two of them erupt into giggles, apparently highly amused at the thought of him naked.ย
For the rest of the roughly hour long drive home, Zayne becomes acutely aware of how divorced he's become in these last few months from his two best childhood friends. Their conversation flows easily with one another, and it isn't as if they're leaving him out, but he feels like an outsider.ย
For instance, Caleb finds great pleasure in tugging at both of their ears from the backseat, Mila shrieking from the feeling and turning around to smack at him. Zayne just flinches and glares at him through the rear view mirror, reminding Caleb that he is driving right now. If he didn't know any better, he'd say that Caleb seems to be more amused by his reaction than hers.ย
Overallโฆ it's not entirely unpleasant. It just makes him feel guilty once more. And thank god, neither of them seem to have given any further thought to whoever Sylus might be. Probably assuming he's a classmate or a professor wanting a call about some school project. And he will allow them to believe that as long as they like.ย
โHome sweet home!โ Caleb exclaims once they turn the corner onto the street where they all grew up, and if it's possible, he's in an even better mood than he's been the rest of the ride.ย
โMy mom said she'd have dinner ready by the time we get back. So you can go put your things in the guest room and come back down to eat.โ Zayne says as he pulls into the driveway and retrieves his phone.ย
Why does Sylus want him to call him again? What could he possibly want to talk about?ย The thought grates on his nerves as he looks at the message, now sent over an hour ago. It fills him with a sick sort of vindication to think that he's left the man waiting on a reply.ย
Around him, Caleb and Mila get out of the car and disappear behind the trunk. Zayne follows a moment after, deciding to leave the message unanswered. Sylus will just have to wait.ย
And of course the moment he opens the door, Caleb leans around the back of the car, and a snowball lands squarely on Zayne's face. He jumps and then freezes with shock, pulling off his glasses, wiping his face free of the cold snow.ย
Caleb is absolutely howling with laughter, and unseen, he can hear Mila giggling as she pulls her bag back over her shoulder.ย
โServes you right, Li! Never let your guard down!โ Caleb cackles, and Zayne glares as he cleans the lenses of his glasses with a sleeve pulled through his coat.ย
โWatch your back, Xia.โ He replies in a deathly cold tone that promises revenge. โNow get inside, it's freezing out here.โ
He does get his revenge, by making an excuse to loiter by the car for just long enough to get his own handful of snow, which he shoves right down the back of Caleb's shirt.ย
The resulting girlish shriek is more than worth the childish noogie Caleb forces upon him in return.
Lol that ai blog blocked me. It's all about "๐ฅบ listening to the community" until the community tells you not to steal the VA's work. Like for the value the English VA's bring to the game I guarantee you they are not being properly compensated anyway, why do you think Sylus VA is also in ZZZ and doing a random salsa commercial and an audio book for an author I've never heard of? To make a living dude. And people are out here just shamelessly stealing their craft at a time where creatives are already losing work to this garbage.
There's no middle ground with Gen AI. It's wrong, and I will bully you for it, sorry.
Imagine that happened to you. Whatever you're passionate about, imagine if someone took your work and ran it through a plagiarism machine (thx @starfallforest ) and created something that is almost exactly identical to yours, imagine hearing your own voice saying things you've never said, and then that person goes on talking about how "they made it". It's disturbing and disgusting and wrong and I don't care if hurts your feelings. Good. I hope to hurt them even more if it makes you cogsuckers stop out of shame and ridicule.
That blog knows who they are and if you "cared about your Li's voice" you wouldn't be stealing their voice.
๐๐ฒ๐ง๐จ๐ฉ๐ฌ๐ข๐ฌ: Zayne attends a swanky gala where he meets a mysterious red-eyed man.
๐/๐ง: Finally!! I'm so excited to have finished chapter one of this series (writing is hard guys) If you have been waiting for this, thank you so much for being patient ๐ค
๐๐จ๐ง๐ญ๐๐ง๐ญ ๐ฐ๐๐ซ๐ง๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ฌ: li x li, snowcrow, Zayne x Sylus, referenced Caleb explosion, frottage, anal, bottom!zayne
Standing near the outer wings of the room, Zayne checks his watch. It's only been half an hour since he'd arrived. He sighs, adjusting the cuff links of his dress shirt as his gaze scans the ballroom. He could've easily declined the invitation and stayed home, as he did most evenings, but a fellow surgeon had guilt-tripped him into attending the charity gala.
He wills his hands to his side. The fine material of his tuxedo feels almost foreign, the cut of it hugging his frame far better than the suits he wore for work. He hadn't had reason to wear anything this formal in a very long time. Zayne shifted his weight in resignation. It wasn't as if he had anything better to do. He would've just been sulking in his condo alone with take out.
The past year had been tough on Zayne since losing one of his childhood friends in a mysterious explosion. Those first few months after the funeral, he'd thrown himself into his work harder than ever, busying every waking minute of his time so that there wasn't any room for dark thoughts, or regrets. It didn't matter how busy he made himself, it didn't make a difference in the dark hours of the night when he dreamed.
Zayne's chest tightens with the too familiar bite of grief. It wasn't as acute anymore, but the weight of it never got any lighter. He knew better than to think it still wouldn't sting. Like the patients he worked on, many of them had life-saving procedures done, but they never walked away fully healed. There would always be lingering scars.
Rolling his shoulders and blinking away the thoughts, Zayne refocuses his attention on the attendees. They're not the types he would typically fraternize with- gallerists, hospital benefactors, tech CEOs, as well as a few other individuals with equally deep pockets. He mingles politely with a few of Akso's board members and medical directors he recognizes, painfully aware of the seconds slowly passing.
After a while, Zayne excuses himself, making his way to the bar to order a sparkling water. Glancing up at the ceiling of the ballroom, his eyes trace the collection of ornate crystals hanging down like glittering drops of starlight. He studies the architecture, his mind wandering as he follows the cornices along the wall of the upper level.
Caleb would've accompanied him tonight. He would have been that buffer Zayne was so used to having in social gatherings like this. He'd always been the outgoing one. The image of Caleb teasing him about being so introverted has Zayne inhaling deeply once more. The memory of Caleb's bright voice and boyish grin-
A pair of sharp crimson eyes meet Zayne's, causing his train of thought to drop instantly. A tall, white-haired man leans against the railing of the second floor, watching him. He seems familiar somehow, but Zayne can't quite place why. Maybe he's a former patient or hospital staff, or more probable, someone from the university? He's dressed in a blood red tuxedo that accentuates his broad shoulders, his posture radiates confidence as much as it does menace.
Zayne's brow furrows as he tries to place the familiarity. The man smirks, and in the next blink, he's gone. Zayne looks around, his instincts twisting his stomach with unease. Something about the stranger gave Zayne the impression that he was dangerous. Generally, an individual stationing themselves in such an inconspicuous location, alone, wasn't up to anything good.
Setting his glass on the bar, Zayne makes his way out of the ballroom and into the foyer. Energy buzzes through him as he quickly locates the grand staircase, his dress shoes whisper against the red carpeted steps as he climbs to the upper floor. The top of the landing is blocked by two security personnel.
The two men eye Zayne as he approaches, "The upper floor is restricted at this time, please return to the event area."
Zayne glances past the two men to where he'd seen the silver-haired stranger. The space was empty now, no one was there. "My apologies, Iโฆ thought I had seen another guest up here," Zayne says.
"No sir. As I said, the upper floor is closed-" the man stops abruptly, tilting his head away as if someone was speaking to him. He steps back, waving Zayne forward, "Apologies, sir. You may pass."
Zayne's eyes narrow slightly as he steps passed them. He follows the path of red carpet until he is standing exactly where he'd seen the man. No sign of anyone. With a sigh he braces against the railing watching the crowd below as he tries to ignore the small disappointment.
"Enjoying yourself, Doctor Li?" A warm baritone voice speaks from behind Zayne, snapping his gaze from the crowd. The man was standing there, slightly obscured in shadow as if they were stitched to the very fabric of his suit. There hadn't been anyone here a moment ago, he was sure of it.
Zayne grips the railing, the chill of his Evol swirling just below the surface, preparing to take necessary action, but striking features give Zayne pause. Full lips pulled into a wry smirk, the angular shape of his aquiline nose, and those eyes- calculating with all of the viciousness of a predator while also holding a spark of warm amusement as they search Zayne's expression.
Zayne adjusts his glasses, straightening as he clears his throat, "Not in the slightest."
The man hums, "Is that why you've ventured up here then? In search of some entertainment?"
Zayne's jaw ticks, "There seemed to be suspicious activity occurring on this floor. I wanted to ensure the safety of the other guests and investigate the potential threat."
Crimson eyes glint, a hint of that predator peeking through, "And have you found what you're looking for, Doctor? This threat you speak of."
Zayne's brows pinch in irritation, "No. I suppose I haven't."
"That's too bad." The man steps closer, his eyes flick pointedly at Zayne's clenched fist, "I would've enjoyed seeing you in action."
Zayne releases his hand, letting his arms fall to his side, "You speak as if we're well acquainted. It's presumptuous of you to question someone without first introducing themselves."
The man chuckles, "You're right, forgive me." He crosses an arm over his chest, bowing at the waist, "Sylus."
Zayne nods, returning his gaze to the crowd. "You don't seem to require medical aid, Sylus, so what is your reason for garnering my attention this evening?" He doesn't even bother trying to hide the irritation in his tone.
The sound of Sylus's rich laughter hits Zayne, washing over him like a hot spring on a cold winter's day. It melts the annoyance from him in an instant. "Such candor. I like it." He stands beside Zayne, his back against the railing, "Join me for a drink. There's a lounge on this floor."
"I don't drink." Zayne states simply.
Sylus doesn't miss a beat, "Join me anyways."
Zayne can't hold back the half-laugh that bubbles out of him as he looks at Sylus. Crimson eyes gleaming in the light, and an infuriating smirk pulling at his lips.
"Presumptuous," Zayne mutters under his breath, incredulous.
Sylus exhales an amused huff of air, "I presume nothing. I'm simply offering a drink. A chance to connect with someone who intrigues me."
Though doubt clings to the edges, Zayne feels a flicker of something light in his chest. He nods at Sylus who leads him down the hallway.
The lounge is smaller than Zayne expected. Dark tones, dim lighting. The space decorated with lavish furniture; leather armchairs and a velvet couch, as well as a small bar with an impressive collection of imported liquor. The double doors click softly, closing behind them as they step into the room.
Sylus walks behind the bar, selecting what Zayne could only guess was whiskey from the upper shelf, turning to set it against the black marble counter top. Zayne approaches, quietly observing as Sylus removes his dress jacket, undoing the cuffs of the dress shirt, and rolling up the sleeves. He gathers a few more ingredients, moving around the space like he'd done it a thousand times before, then makes himself a drink.
Zayne's eyes follow the vascular lines of Sylus's forearms, watching his dexterous hands as they craft the beverage. Lithe fingers pluck a cocktail cherry, adding it to the garnish. He takes a second one, popping it into his mouth.
"Are you sure you're not thirsty, Doctor?" Sylus asks with a knowing smile, voice full of implication.
Zayne feels the rush of heat to his ears at the teasing tone, though his voice holds steady, "I'm fine. Thank you."
Sylus takes his glass, striding to one of the armchairs and Zayne follows, taking the seat across from him. Sylus's large frame fills the armchair with an air of authority. Power. Ownership. The arrogance in his stature has been earned, the confidence born of experience, not ego. His knees spread wide, almost inviting as he raises the glass to his lips. The amber liquid catching in the dim light.
"You own this place." Zayne states.
A wide grin spreads across Sylus's face, "Truly exceptional observation skills." Zayne's eyebrow twitches at the mocking tone and Sylus chuckles as he takes another sip, "One of my many business ventures."
"What other types of businesses do you own?" Zayne asks, trying to get a clearer picture of who Sylus was. However, based on the small amount of information Zayne has gleaned from their interactions tonight, he gets the feeling it's probably less than legal.
"Nothing interesting enough to talk about," Sylus hedges. "You however," he sets his glass aside, resting his fingers at his temple, his expression full of curiosity. "What brought you here tonight? You don't strike me as the type to enjoy such a social event."
Zayne shifts in his seat, the reminder of feeling out of place settles like a stone in his stomach. After a moment, he answers in a quiet tone, "I've been asking myself that all night. Mostly obligation, I suppose. Butโฆ" He trails off, his stare caught on a drop of condensation sliding down the edge of Sylus's glass,"Perhaps, I simply wanted to indulge in a distraction."
"From what?" Sylus asks quietly.
Zayne opens his mouth to answer, but quickly snaps out of it, clearing his throat, "Never mind. It doesn't matter." He meets Sylus's eyes once more.
Sylus watches him, a flicker of something close to pity flashes across his face. Zayne doesn't acknowledge it, though anxiety churns in his stomach. He should leave. There was no need to unload his grief on a complete stranger, or anyone for that matter. That isn't the kind of man Zayne is.
"As it happens," Sylus rises to his feet. "I excel when it comes to matters of indulgenceโฆ" He crosses the space, holding out his hand to Zayne, "and distractions."
Zayne blinks at the open palm in front of him. Strong hands that seem accustomed to offering solutions. Like it was second nature to handle the problems that people didn't want to face themselves. Though the gleam in those crimson eyes told Zayne it came with a price. Allowing his curiosity to get the better of him, Zayne reaches forward.
Sylus's hand is warm against his. Much warmer than most other's. He stands, following the tug of heat. Sylus pulls him forward until only a breath of space remains between them. A low level warmth spreads from Zayne's cheeks, down his neck and shoulders.
Sylus's right eye begins to glow, the red of his iris outshining the dark pupil inside. Zayne's breath catches, unable to formulate why that might be a strange occurrence when Sylus suddenly closes the remaining space, crashing his lips against Zayne.
Releasing a surprised sound, Zayne's lips respond on instinct, his mind quieting for just a moment before his hands grip Sylus by the front of his shirt. Unsure if he wants to push the man back or pull him closer, Zayne falters.
Sylus must have sensed the hesitation because he pulls back with a lazy smile.
Momentarily stunned, Zayne breathes, "What do you think you're doing?" His scarred knuckles white, still clenching Sylus's dress shirt.
Sylus leans in closer, "Indulgingโฆ or distracting. I'll let you decide." He tilts his head, his lips almost brushing against Zayne's.
"Wait." Sylus holds still at Zayne's words. "I can't- I should go," Zayne can hear the frantic pace of his own pulse in his ears. His thoughts are scattered, his chest tight with uncertainty. The heat of Sylus is so close now and Zayne struggles to fight against the magnetic draw of him.
With a breath of space between them, Sylus searches Zayne's features, his voice rumbles low and quiet, "Is that what you truly desire?"
The sincerity in Sylus's voice surprises Zayne. Where he expects teasing remarks, he only finds quiet concern. Zayne's eyes catch on Sylus's lips. The perfect cupids bow, the corners slightly up-turned. He can't think, his rational mind drawing blanks with Sylus's proximity. Their chests almost touching, Zayne's rising and falling as if he'd run sprints, Sylus's steady and even.
"No." Heat simmers like a smoldering coal in Zayne's gut, intense in a way he never could have predicted. Not allowing himself time to question this impulsivity, Zayne pulls Sylus back down.
Even at his height, Zayne has to crane his neck to meet the towering man's lips. Sylus makes a satisfied rumble as one hand finds Zayne's waist. The kiss is consuming, but not in the way of heat and desperation. It's intentional. Measured. The pull of Sylus's lips against his is sensual in it's warmth as it spreads from him to Zayne.
The second Sylus's tongue breaches his mouth, Zayne feels the first true splinter of his resolve cracking. He inhales sharply at the smoky taste of whiskey, trying to hold his ground, warring against the force of desire Sylus is igniting within him.
Zayne finally allows his hands to rest against Sylus's solid shoulders. The warmth of Sylus's palm shifts from his waist to the small of his back, pulling Zayne closer still, until there's nothing between them but layers of fabric and heated skin.
Zayne's body burns hotter at the feel of Sylus's erection against him. The fever of need has Zayne's hands falling to the waistband of Sylus's dress pants, his own growing need driving him. With a dark chuckle, Sylus grips Zayne's wrist, walking him back against the wall and lifting his arm above his head.
The force of his back hitting the wall, while not hard, is enough to jostle Zayne from this trance he's caught in. He struggles slightly against Sylus with a soft grunt.
"We- I shouldn't do this." Zayne breathes against kiss-swollen lips. A break in the fog of what he would consider temporary madness.
"Then tell me to stop," the sultry rasp against Zayne's ear has his own arousal twitching in his pants. He doesn't want to stop. Not really. But the logical part of his mind becomes lost once more, leaving behind a storm of lust and heat and need. His free hand presses against the firm muscles of Sylus's chest.
"Another guest could come through that door." Zayne supplies, trying, and failing, to come up with an objective reason to stop.
The sound of a lock clicking echoes from across the room. Sylus presses his hips harder into Zayne's, mouthing at the space below his ear as delicious pressure against his cock steals his breath.
"What other excuses do you have? I want to hear them all." He nips at Zayne's earlobe, eliciting a sharp inhale as he threads his fingers through Zayne's where they rest against the wall.
With his free hand, Sylus grips the sharp point of Zayne's chin, titling upwards, his lips hover over the line of Zayne's jaw, "Go on doctor, I'm listening."
Zayne's breath falters and he stares for a moment, tracing the shape of dark grey eyebrows and thick lashes that line piercing, garnet-colored eyes. "Zayne." He corrects, "I think we're past the point of formalities."
A dark chuckle vibrates in Sylus's chest, "In that case..."
Before Zayne can say anything more, Sylus releases their hands, stepping back. He snaps, and tendrils of red and black shadow cover his body for a moment before evaporating. His clothes with them.
Zayne stands there momentarily stunned by the miles of bare skin suddenly on display. He's encountered plenty of nude individuals in his career at the hospital. Except, this wasn't the hospital. And Sylusโฆ Sylus wasn't built like one of his patients.
With his towering height and athletic build, Sylus looks as if he were carved from stone. His shoulders were heavy with muscle, arms and chest defined in a way that spoke of agility and precise power. Zayne's eyes follow the tapered waist and the sculpted lines of his abdomen. A thin line of hair leading down to where his cock stood, thick. Long. The veins visible, and the heavy sack of sensitive skin hanging below.
Sylus smirks, a hand on his hip, "Your turn." Another snap of his fingers and Zayne's clothes become swallowed by the same shadows before the cool air of the room washes over his skin. Sylus's gaze travels over his body appreciatively.
Zayne tsks, turning his head to the side, heat spreading from his cheeks up the back of his neck. He feels exposed in a way that has nothing to do with the lack of clothing. Sylus steps in close, the heat of his body no longer dampened by layers of fabric. He stares into Zayne's eyes. His expression full of hunger and determination.
"Don't get shy on me now," Sylus crowds Zayne back against the wall, placing a hand on either side of Zayne's head.
Zayne swallows a groan as the skin-to-skin contact ignites the need that had already liquefied in his core. It's too much, or not enough. Once again Zayne finds himself adrift in this abyss of lust that Sylus has conjured. He can't seem to compartmentalize it. He'd spent so long neglecting any flicker of desire, he'd convinced himself he no longer craved physical release, that he was above such primal needs.
What he hadn't foreseen was someone like Sylus. Someone who seemed to be made from fire and hunger, who would disintegrate Zayne's control with so much of a snap of his fingers.
Sylus trails a finger down the side of Zayne's neck, his eyes locked on the rhythm fluttering beneath skin where blood is pumping steadily.
"You never gave me your decision," Sylus murmurs.
"What do you mean?" Zayne swallows, "I said yes."
Sylus leans in, teeth sinking into the space where Zayne's shoulder meets his neck. The groan Zayne makes releases a chuckle from Sylus that rumbles through him as he breathes into Zayne's ear, "Indulgence or distraction? Choose wisely."
Zayne closes his eyes, trying to sift through everything he was feeling in this moment. His nervous system was overloaded, his skin beginning to dampen with sweat with each brush of contact from Sylus. It was too much. All he could feel was need. The need for heat-slicked skin against him. The need to taste raw hunger on his tongue. The need for release.
"Both," Zayne breathes. It's barely a whisper, but he catches the hitch in Sylus's breathing as garnet eyes find his again. Sylus smiles, and the energy between them shifts faster than a summer storm.
Without another second of hesitation, Zayne grabs Sylus's face and crashes his mouth to his. He shoulders Sylus so that the taller man is against the wall instead. Resolve driving his movements now, Zayne kisses Sylus deeply in attempt to regain some modicum of control.
Sylus hums in approval as Zayne's tongue moves against his, large palms gripping the curve Zayne's ass, grinding into him. The way their cocks rub against one another has Zayne pulling back, mouth parted as his chest heaves. Sylus's eyes remain sharp even through the haze of lust that has colored his cheeks pink. Something resolute echoes through Zayne as his body responds to Sylus's.
When Sylus's hand finds the stiff length of his cock, Zayne groans, hips bucking into his hold. "So greedy," Sylus's deep voice rumbles as his wrist moves up and down with firm pressure.
Zayne curses under his breath, teeth biting into his lip to hold back desperate sounds, as Sylus smears precum over the head of him.
"Let go, Zayne. I want to hear you," He releases Zayne for a second, only to grip both of their cocks in his palm. Zayne releases a soft moan as the contact sends sparks of pleasure up his spine.
Sylus's answering groans spur Zayne on, his hips gently rocking into the other man's touch. Their cocks becoming more slick with each of their thrusts.
Zayne can feel the coil in his gut threatening to snap. His breathing becomes erratic.
Sylus catches the subtle reaction and stops, roughly turning Zayne to brace him against the wall. The press of Sylus's thick cock into the cleft of his ass has Zayne tilting his hips back, eliciting a satisfied growl from the other man.
"Enjoying yourself, Zayne?" Sylus's hand reaches down Zayne's front, trailing his fingertips over Zayne's lower stomach and skimming past the sharp cut of his hip bone. Zayne exhales sharply, his hips involuntarily bucking into Sylus's hand as warm breath fans his ear, "Hm?"
Sylus's touch moves down further until he's cupping the warm heavy weight of Zayne's balls. Zayne's head tilts back, the sound of his name on Sylus's lips has his jaw tightening against the liquid heat pooling at the base of his spine.
Zayne tries to steady himself, not liking how fast he's unraveled, knowing he's not going to last much longer, "Notโฆ inโฆ the slightestโฆ"
A dark chuckle rumbles from behind him, "No?" Sylus's deft fingers wrap around Zayne's cock with a hum of approval. Zayne's breath catches and his body jolts as Sylus gives him a few languid pumps. Zayne's hips start rocking, matching the steady rhythm of Sylus's hand. His head falls back against the taller man's shoulder as his breath quickens.
"You're not a very good liar," Sylus strokes Zayne's leaking cock, his other hand working its way across Zayne's jaw. "Open."
Zayne shudders at the command, his lips parting as Sylus presses two long digits into his mouth. Zayne fights back a desperate sound as he begins to suck on Sylus's fingers in the same rhythm he was pumping Zayne's cock.
Sylus groans, and Zayne feels the twitch of the other man's cock against his ass. Zayne moans as Sylus presses deeper into his mouth, imagining it was his cock instead. His own length twitching in Sylus's palm.
"Good," Sylus murmurs into Zayne's shoulder before slowly pulling his fingers from Zayne's mouth. He reaches between their bodies, brushing the wet pads of his fingertips over the puckered skin of Zayne's hole.
Zayne gasps at the contact, his cock twitching as it dribbles more precum. Sylus growls, his fingers circling the sensitive skin before pressing inside. Zayne releases a shuddering breath as one long finger pushes past the tight ring of muscle.
"So greedy, I can feel it," Sylus's finger pumps in and out of Zayne, his body clenching around the digit as if to pull him in further. "Now, I want to hear it," Sylus continues, "Tell me what you want."
Zayne shudders when Sylus presses his lips just behind his ear, the gesture almost soft as he coaxes Zayne.
"More," Zayne groans as he pushes his hips back onto Sylus's finger.
Sylus presses a second digit inside and Zayne clenches his teeth through a moan when Sylus begins to scissor his fingers inside him.
"Is that all? Are you going to fall to pieces with just my fingers?" Sylus pumps faster, deeper, Zayne fighting not to cry out when fingertips bump against his prostate.
Zayne doesn't answer, his mouth slack as pleasure builds. Sylus's hand stops, and Zayne almost whines, his hips moving to chase Sylus's fingers when he withdraws them.
Zayne drops his head with a curse, his cock throbbing with the need to release. After a breath he manages to collect himself to remember that Sylus had asked him a question.
"Are you just going to tease me? Or are you going to fuck me?" he asked through ragged breathing.
Sylus laughs, deep and rich, fisting his fingers into Zayne's hair and tilting his head to the side. Zayne feels the brush of Sylus's nose up the side of his neck, "I need to hear it. That you want my cock inside of you. Say it."
Zayne huffs with indignation. He wasn't one to beg. After all, wasn't it obvious that is what he wants? He wouldn't have gone this far if he wanted anything less.
As if Sylus were reading his thoughts, he nips Zayne's ear with a whispered, "Say. It."
Zayne trapped in Sylus's hold, panting, and throbbing to the point that it is almost unbearable, he concedes.
"Iโฆ I want your cock inside of me. Now."
"Very good, Zayne."
He roughly turns Zayne's head devouring him in a bruising kiss as he lines himself up at Zayne's entrance.
Zayne feels the thick blunt head of Sylus pressing inside, and he inhales sharply at the invasion.
Sylus presses Zayne harder against him, thrusting deeper until he squeezes past the tight ring of muscle.
He grabs Zayne's wrists, guiding his hands to brace against the wall before gripping his hips and finding a steady rhythm.
The snap of Sylus's hips against Zayne's, the thickness of his cock slamming into him again and again- Zayne is lost to pleasure. His mind empty except for more and harder. He welcomes the sensation of Sylus filling him, the thick head of his cock bullying Zayne's prostate until he's sure he's almost overwhelmed. Then Sylus is gripping his leaking arousal once more, and Zayne can't stop the cry of pleasure from his throat.
Sylus slams home, cock pulsing inside Zayne with a guttural groan, "That's it."
Sylus's other hand snakes up over Zayne's sternum, palm resting just below his larynx, fingers pressing gently on either side of his neck. Sylus pounds into Zayne, one hand firmly gripping his hips while the other holds his throat, pressing him against his chest.
Zayne is close. So so close. He succumbs to the pleasure, letting it carry him as his cock begins to thicken in Sylus's grip with his impending release.
Sylus grinds into Zayne with a groan, "Yes, let go. Give it all to me."
It hits him with such force, Zayneโs vision goes white as a quiet grunt works its way out of his throat, gasping for air as he comes. His cock pulsing ropes of cum over Sylusโs fist. He feels the answering twitch of Sylus's cock deep inside him as he clenches involuntarily. Then Sylus comes with a loud groan, his spend filling Zayne with warm wet cum.
For a moment there is just the sound of their heavy breaths filling the space. Zayne's vision slowly comes back into focus. Sylus standing flush against him, his scent strong with the proximity.
Sylus recovers first, pulling out as a shudder runs through Zayne. Zayne turns to lean back against the wall as he catches his breath, his thighs shaky as he watches Sylus brings his fingers to his mouth.
Licking Zayne's cum, his eyes flutter closed on a satisfied growl, "Exquisite."
Despite his release, Zayne's cock twitches at the sight, his face flushing red as Sylus's eyes gleam in the low light, a smirk kicking up one corner of his mouth as he steps into Zayne.
Zayne isn't sure what to say. Does he shake Sylus's hand? Say thank you? This part was never his strong suit. He'd be content with a silent nod and parting of ways. Except, something in Sylus's gaze has Zayne wanting to say more, because for a brief second he wasโฆ enjoying himself.
He wouldn't call it happiness, but something close. He felt like pure ecstasy. He felt wanted with a ferocity he hadn't known in a long time. He was convinced he'd lost the one and only person capable of it.
Zayne straightens, trying to collect what's left of his sanity as he side steps Sylus. Clearing his throat, he asks, "My clothes?"
With a snap of Sylus's fingers they're both wrapped in red and black mist, the shadows soft and soothing against Zayne's skin. Then they're dressed again, as if nothing had happened.
Zayne nods, as an awkward shyness creeps into his stomach, "I think it's time I leave. Thank you, Sylus. Forโฆ your companionship this evening."
Zayne moves to squeeze past Sylus, heading for the door when a hand grips his wrist. Sylus pulls him back.
"Not so fast, Doctor," Sylus cups his jaw, pulling him in. His lips press firmly against Zayne's. The kiss is slow, and sensual. Surprisingly gentle. Unexpected.
Zayne feels a tightening in his chest as they pull away, and Zayne whispers against Sylus's lips, "Zayne."
Sylus steps back with a chuckle, turning back to the arm chair, "Goodnight. Zayne."
Zayne sighs as an uncharacteristic tilt of his lips leaves him smirking as he walks towards the door. On his drive home, he gets the distinct impression that he'll see Sylus again very soon.
tiny LI comfort audio concept I canโt stop thinking about:
you come home overstimulated and exhausted, and he notices before you even say anything.
not dramatic. not a huge plot. just him lowering his voice, guiding you to sit down, telling you to breathe with him, maybe teasing you gently for pretending youโre fine, then getting softer when he realizes you really needed comfortโบ๏ธ
the kind of scene where nothing โbigโ happens but somehow you feel held the whole time.
I would fold instantly tbh ๐ญ
A tiny early waitlist for a personalized LI voice comfort audio/ASMR idea Iโm building for otome game players, Love and Deepspace girlies, a
