He knew he shouldn't be doing these kinds of things. He was a respectable guy. He worked hard for his father's company, he kept himself well dressed and unassuming and he knew that he was not someone who should stoop so low. And yet, he did. He couldn't help it. Something about Xue Yang just got to him.
It wasn't that he really wanted to talk to him or interact. He could, they lived next to each other and he knew where he worked. They could bond, be friends, do anything together - though he just didn't want to. He liked the concept of Xue Yang, he didn't really want him.
He just wanted to smell him, to see him, to watch him. He didn't want rejection and messy emotions.
Unfortunately, he had been impulsive, he started taking things. Tokens, pictures, fucking underwear. And now what? It was stupid. Suspicious. He should really return it. He paced around his apartment for a good hour and a half, holding his boxers, debating what to do.
Xue Yang was a chef. He should be at work by now. There wouldn't be any crossover so he could just put them back. Simple as. Put them back and try to have a reality check. What would happen if this ever got out?
Meng Yao carefully walked out onto the balcony of his apartment, looked left and right carefully before he leaned over and climbed over the barrier separating him and Xue Yang. He knew how, he had a good core despite how he looked and he could move nimbly when he wanted. Very carefully, he pulled the underwear out of his suit jacket and swiftly shoved it back onto the laundry rack. There. It was back. It was over.
Xue Yang had called out of work today. Officially because he was sick - he had faked a very convincing cough - but really he had been trying to do exactly this. Wait for the pervert. He had seen him on camera by now, so he knew where he came from. Knew his usual modus operandi.
Which was why he had left the door to his balcony just slightly ajar. Slight enough that one could assume he had done it accidentally. Irresistible for anyone who liked breaking in, Xue Yang was sure of that.
By now he was watching the guy on camera, with the trap set. He waited in his bedroom to see whether the guy would actually open the balcony door enough to slip into the living room and have another scoop.
It was a proper stalker, proper pervert. He assumed it was a bit like a drug at that point, he would not be able to resist getting another fix.
He'd left his balcony door open. Not the first time, Xue Yang had done it before whenever he wanted fresh air in. After all, not many of his neighbours scaled balconies so it made sense. He looked at the door for a long time, his fingers twitching curiously as he stared right ahead at it.
No, he was better than this. He had to stop. He knew he had to stop. He didn't want to do it, he really didn't. What was going to happen if he was somehow home? Someone would call the cops on him!
What would he say to his father? Or anyone else he knew?
And yet, it didn't stop him. He gently pushed the door open and looked around, biting his lower lip as he eyed up a discarded t-shirt Xue Yang had left on the sofa. He reached out and touched it, lifting it up and giving it a quick sniff before he dropped it. God, he smelled so fucking good.
When Xue Yang came back for Meng Yao after however much time had passed - he certainly hadn't been keeping track - he looked at him, drool all down his chin and on the floor, and he laughed. "You're quite the sight. Are you an expert cocksucker yet?"
He asked it crudely and then he bent down, quickly releasing him from the chains. He let him pull back from the dildo, then put a hand on his face and swiped his thumb over his lower lip. "Wow. Your lips are so red now."
Kind of looked good, honestly. "How about I take you to shower?"
Meng Yao's jaw was in agony. His breath hitched as he pulled away and all the muscles in his jaw were tensed and aching. Much like his leg, that wasn't particularly enjoying the position it had been trapped in either. As soon as he was pulled back, he took a deep breath and wished desperately that he could clean off his chin properly.
He didn't know what to say and when he spoke, his voice was croaky from something hitting the back of his throat for God knows how long. "I think I'm better at it now."
Hopefully. He really wanted to impress so it never happened again. He nodded at the idea of a shower, feeling far too many gross things on him. He was sweaty, he had Xue Yang's come on him and drool everywhere.
"Yeah, you're kinda gross." Xue Yang unlocked the cuffs around Meng Yao's wrists, freeing him entirely. Then he stood back up, gesturing. "Get up. I'll help you."
With one arm, anyway. He wasn't about to carry him, the guy was still a gross pervert after all. Especially right now. "Hurry up. You're lucky anyway, I only broke the one ankle. Could be way worse."
Would probably still get way worse, Xue Yang guessed. He knew himself well.
They had settled into a kind of routine. Xue Yang did not trust him, so he had him locked in the room, chained to a ring, while he was at work. When he was home, however, he allowed him to move about as best he could to clean. Which he was admittedly pretty damn good at, Xue Yang could not remember ever having seen the place this tidy.
Weeks passed like that. Meng Yao's ankle had been set to the best of Xue Yang's abilities - he wasn't entirely useless at it, he had some experience after all - and it as slowly healing. Xue Yang didn't realise how comfortably he was starting to feel with him in his house, he didn't often reflect like that. Then, one day, he ended up falling asleep on the sofa in the broad daylight, his hand hanging down on one side.
It was all right, even though he was a light sleeper, he kept on slumbering while Meng Yao was sorting a drawer in the room. But then Xue Yang felt a touch to his hand. The bandaged hand, the one where he had lost his finger. His eyes opened immediately and he pulled his hand back on instinct. Before he even had time to think, he was on his feet, attacking Meng Yao. He hit him in the stomach, then grabbed him by the throat. Pinning him against the wall, he snarled at him. "You wanna find my weakness, eh? What's that about?!"
Meng Yao cried out, entirely thrown by what was happening. For days now, he had managed to avoid these unpredictable explosions but it seemed inevitable that one would come. They always came. Meng Yao cowered as the other came at him, winded by the punch and struggling to speak. How was he supposed to defend himself if he was being choked.
He tried to grab at Xue Yang's arm and make some space, tried to croak out an explanation but he couldn't. It was too strong and he was wheezing.
He didn't meant to upset him. He was just cleaning up around the living room when he saw his hand, lying free. He just touched it, just for a moment, he didn't understand what the big issue was. They had held hands before. Perhaps not this hand though. He hadn't though. Was it the bandage? "St-Stop." Was all he managed as he squirmed under him.
"What if I don't want to stop, huh?" Xue Yang squeezed tighter and he saw Meng Yao's face go red, then paler. He felt his struggles weakening. When he almost seemed to go slack, it suddenly occurred to him that he did not want that. He didn't want him gone. So he let go immediately, no longer choking him. He still held him up with his other arm, frowning while he lowered him to the ground.
He sat down across from him, feeling emotions warring inside of him and the anger or fear or whatever it was still burning hot. "So what?" What had that been? For either of them.
There hadn't really been anything specific to set him off, just a bunch of small things. It wasn't surprising, he worked with customers. Even before then, one of his headphones had stopped working, so he couldn't listen to music on the way back. The weather was humid and hot and he wasn't that motivated towards anything. The cleaning crew had done a piss-poor job of the surfaces so he had started his shift with some scrubbing and somewhere at the back of his mind was that niggling. Maybe it had just been too long since he had killed anyone.
He came home feeling drained, hair no longer tied together, cheeks flushed from the heat and his shirt clinging to him. The light was on, obviously, Meng Yao was there. For the first time in a while, part of him wished he wasn't. Or at least that he had still locked him into the torture room.
Xue Yang took his shoes off, then walked into the living room. He grabbed a pillow and tossed it onto the floor, hitting a glass of water on the couch table in the process. The glass fell to the ground, onto the rug, so it didn't shatter. That was annoying him too. Now he just had a damp carpet. He huffed in indignation and called out. "Why is it such a mess, huh?!"
Meng Yao was sitting on the floor in the bedroom, organising the laundry as he had been told to do. He had managed to put together every odd sock today and it felt like an achievement. He heard the door slam and something fall in the other room, wincing in preparation. Xue Yang was back and he sounded pissed.
Sometimes, Meng Yao felt like he should do more while Xue Yang was out - bang on the floors, cry out, scream, attempt to hack into his laptop. He didn't but he knew he should. The doors were locked, the chain was on him but maybe if he got some help, he could leave.
But if he left, he didn't have Xue Yang.
Walking into the living room, he walked over to the glass right away and set it upright on the coffee table. "I don't think it's a mess." He had cleaned, it definitely wasn't. "But it's just water, that's a good thing. Means nothing will stain."
"That's a good thing," Xue Yang mimicked him in a mocking voice, "That's a good thing when my place gets mouldy, eh?" Obviously it wasn't about to get mouldy. It would just dry, the air-conditioning was on. The place was pretty nice and modern, he really didn't have to worry about mould. "Don't talk down to me, you fucking asshole."
Xue Yang shoved his shoulder slightly, realising that wasn't much of a statement. Whatever. He tightened his hand to a fist a couple of times, flexing his fingers and finally gesturing to the bedroom door. "Get in there. The room."
He assumed Meng Yao knew what room he meant here. "You've got too much freedom."
When Xue Yang brought the guy home, it was only an hour or two later. He hadn't paid attention to the time. He hadn't gone to any of his usual hangs and he definitely hadn't gone for his usual type either. The guy was balding, a bit overweight, at least twice his age, married - going by the ring on his finger - and so thrilled and confused by being picked up by someone like Xue Yang that he was trembling from excitement.
He was a sloppy kisser and he was already sweaty. Xue Yang felt a bit of disgust, but whatever. He pinned him against the door to the other room as soon as he had him in the bedroom. Then he squeezed his dick and bit down on his neck, making him moan obscenely loud. He wanted Meng Yao to hear, that was all his mind was focused on.
Meng Yao's body was beyond exhausted. His arms had lost a lot of their feeling in the past hour and he was feeling weak from lack of water. The aircon didn't quite reach the torture room so he was sweating too, making it twice as uncomfortable. He had a long time to stew on his regrets and mistakes. He knew he had panicked and fucked up, but that didn't solve anything now, did it?
He heard the door slam and two sets of footsteps. Hear the moans and the movement. He closed his eyes, frustrated and heart-broken.
Xue Yang kept making out with the guy, while fumbling around for the doorhandle. Then, finally, he got it open. The guy stumbled backwards into the room, falling onto the floor. Xue Yang stepped in behind him, flicking the light switch on and clicking his tongue as he shook his head. "Wow, you're so clumsy. Now you found my secret."
"W--what?" Confused, dazed, a little drunk, the man stared up at Xue Yang at first, before looking around, growing concern on his face. Until he saw Meng Yao and almost jumped out of his skin. "WHAT THE FUCK?! What's... What are you-- I don't--" He shook his head, pointing at Meng Yao and looking back at Xue Yang. "Huh?!"
"Did you forget how to end sentences?" Xue Yang tilted his head to the side, looking at Meng Yao. "Y'know what he's on about, xiao Yao?"
"Just pick something already," Xue Yang told Meng Yao, sounding somewhere between bored and whiny. He was sitting on the bed, leaving Meng Yao to contemplate his wardrobe, because he was watching something. However, a commercial break had come on and when he looked away from the screen at Meng Yao, the man was just standing there, apparently frozen with indecisiveness.
Xue Yang rolled his eyes and then got to his feet, walking over and opening the drawer that had his shirts for going out. He pulled out one shirt and threw it at Meng Yao. It was, admittedly, ripped artistically in quite a few places, but Xue Yang thought it looked good. "Huh. you probably want something that covers your noodle arms."
"It's not really my style." Meng Yao admitted as he looked at it all, a bit concerned, trying to wrap his head around it all. If he wore any of this, he looked like a complete weirdo. He wasn't really a clubber and he was certainly not the sort of clubber that wore this kind of thing. He held what Xue Yang had passed him and looked at it uneasily.
"I won't look right in this. I don't have muscles." For one. That and he didn't think he could pull of this sort of ripped punked vibe. He was more of a button up sort. "I don't want to highlight how tiny I am."
"I like how tiny you are. It's precious." Which, Xue Yang supposed, didn't really fit the vibe. So he kept looking through the drawer, finally just tossing anything that had long sleeves at Meng Yao. "Don't look so perturbed, xiao Yao. If you find something soon, I'll let you pick what I'm wearing."
He didn't have any preference there, although given the current temperatures, he'd prefer something sleeveless or with short sleeves. He had muscles, so. "I already told my friends I'm bringing you, so don't fuss so much."
The music was pounding when they walked inside. There were times, admittedly, when Xue Yang couldn't stand that. Right now he felt it resonating inside him, his heart pounding in the same rhythm. He was walking next to Meng Yao, who had his crutch. Some people had given them looks, Xue Yang hadn't taken any notice. He just felt a pleasant buzz and he was walking to the back of the club, where his friends usually had a table on Fridays.
"That's them!" He told Meng Yao, then snorted. "I guess you know, stalker."
He pulled him along by his arm. Xinjia was sitting next to Jonathan, who had a hand on his boyfriend's shoulder and who looked at them with a polite smile. Chenglei was in the process of emptying his drink, then he set down the glass and waved at them.
"Eh, Xue Yang! That's who you're bringing?" Chenglei looked Meng Yao over, his face showing some obvious confusion. "Hi... sir?"
"That's Yao-ge. His leg's messed up, so you need to make space for him."
Chenglei nodded, turning to the side a little, so that Meng Yao could squeeze past him. "You can sit down."
Great. An evening with babies who called him sir. Why couldn't Xue Yang have older friends. He wasn't vastly younger than him but the age periods were tricky. Somehow, 24 and almost 29 seemed worlds apart. And then add in some 21 year old friends and it was a hot mess.
"You-- You don't have to call me a sir, please." Meng Yao bowed to the table and then looked at Xue Yang, clearly unsure. They were really going to sit so boxed in.
He swallowed hard and then moved along, awkwardly sliding through until he stumbled into his seat, trying to set his crutch aside but it slid almost immediately, hitting Jonathan and disappearing under the table. Great. Fuck. "Sorry!"
Xinjia gave Xue Yang a look and raised an eyebrow. Where the fuck did he find this weirdo?
"You are here to party, right?" How did someone with a crutch party?
"Of course he's here to party! He's a party animal, Xinjia. Hasn't anybody taught you yet to respect your elders? I should think Jonathan would have taken care of that by now." Xue Yang grinned, pretty much sliding over the table to sit down next to Meng Yao, so he was between him and Chenglei.
Jonathan handed Meng Yao his crutch back, smiling at him politely. He was trying to place his face. "They are children. Sorry about that."
"You're the perv," Xue Yang told him, one arm around Meng Yao as he grinned at Jonathan and then looked at Xinjia. "Who else is here tonight, eh?"
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toxicbaes2025-06-01 08:20 pm
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not as if I got lady undies so I dunno
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He has expensive boxers.
You think it's a pervert? It's weird, you're right. That's what guys do with girls panties.
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It wasn't that he really wanted to talk to him or interact. He could, they lived next to each other and he knew where he worked. They could bond, be friends, do anything together - though he just didn't want to. He liked the concept of Xue Yang, he didn't really want him.
He just wanted to smell him, to see him, to watch him. He didn't want rejection and messy emotions.
Unfortunately, he had been impulsive, he started taking things. Tokens, pictures, fucking underwear. And now what? It was stupid. Suspicious. He should really return it. He paced around his apartment for a good hour and a half, holding his boxers, debating what to do.
Xue Yang was a chef. He should be at work by now. There wouldn't be any crossover so he could just put them back. Simple as. Put them back and try to have a reality check. What would happen if this ever got out?
Meng Yao carefully walked out onto the balcony of his apartment, looked left and right carefully before he leaned over and climbed over the barrier separating him and Xue Yang. He knew how, he had a good core despite how he looked and he could move nimbly when he wanted. Very carefully, he pulled the underwear out of his suit jacket and swiftly shoved it back onto the laundry rack. There. It was back. It was over.
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Which was why he had left the door to his balcony just slightly ajar. Slight enough that one could assume he had done it accidentally. Irresistible for anyone who liked breaking in, Xue Yang was sure of that.
By now he was watching the guy on camera, with the trap set. He waited in his bedroom to see whether the guy would actually open the balcony door enough to slip into the living room and have another scoop.
It was a proper stalker, proper pervert. He assumed it was a bit like a drug at that point, he would not be able to resist getting another fix.
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No, he was better than this. He had to stop. He knew he had to stop. He didn't want to do it, he really didn't. What was going to happen if he was somehow home? Someone would call the cops on him!
What would he say to his father? Or anyone else he knew?
And yet, it didn't stop him. He gently pushed the door open and looked around, biting his lower lip as he eyed up a discarded t-shirt Xue Yang had left on the sofa. He reached out and touched it, lifting it up and giving it a quick sniff before he dropped it. God, he smelled so fucking good.
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He asked it crudely and then he bent down, quickly releasing him from the chains. He let him pull back from the dildo, then put a hand on his face and swiped his thumb over his lower lip. "Wow. Your lips are so red now."
Kind of looked good, honestly. "How about I take you to shower?"
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He didn't know what to say and when he spoke, his voice was croaky from something hitting the back of his throat for God knows how long. "I think I'm better at it now."
Hopefully. He really wanted to impress so it never happened again. He nodded at the idea of a shower, feeling far too many gross things on him. He was sweaty, he had Xue Yang's come on him and drool everywhere.
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With one arm, anyway. He wasn't about to carry him, the guy was still a gross pervert after all. Especially right now. "Hurry up. You're lucky anyway, I only broke the one ankle. Could be way worse."
Would probably still get way worse, Xue Yang guessed. He knew himself well.
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Weeks passed like that. Meng Yao's ankle had been set to the best of Xue Yang's abilities - he wasn't entirely useless at it, he had some experience after all - and it as slowly healing. Xue Yang didn't realise how comfortably he was starting to feel with him in his house, he didn't often reflect like that. Then, one day, he ended up falling asleep on the sofa in the broad daylight, his hand hanging down on one side.
It was all right, even though he was a light sleeper, he kept on slumbering while Meng Yao was sorting a drawer in the room. But then Xue Yang felt a touch to his hand. The bandaged hand, the one where he had lost his finger. His eyes opened immediately and he pulled his hand back on instinct. Before he even had time to think, he was on his feet, attacking Meng Yao. He hit him in the stomach, then grabbed him by the throat. Pinning him against the wall, he snarled at him. "You wanna find my weakness, eh? What's that about?!"
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He tried to grab at Xue Yang's arm and make some space, tried to croak out an explanation but he couldn't. It was too strong and he was wheezing.
He didn't meant to upset him. He was just cleaning up around the living room when he saw his hand, lying free. He just touched it, just for a moment, he didn't understand what the big issue was. They had held hands before. Perhaps not this hand though. He hadn't though. Was it the bandage? "St-Stop." Was all he managed as he squirmed under him.
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He sat down across from him, feeling emotions warring inside of him and the anger or fear or whatever it was still burning hot. "So what?" What had that been? For either of them.
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He came home feeling drained, hair no longer tied together, cheeks flushed from the heat and his shirt clinging to him. The light was on, obviously, Meng Yao was there. For the first time in a while, part of him wished he wasn't. Or at least that he had still locked him into the torture room.
Xue Yang took his shoes off, then walked into the living room. He grabbed a pillow and tossed it onto the floor, hitting a glass of water on the couch table in the process. The glass fell to the ground, onto the rug, so it didn't shatter. That was annoying him too. Now he just had a damp carpet. He huffed in indignation and called out. "Why is it such a mess, huh?!"
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Sometimes, Meng Yao felt like he should do more while Xue Yang was out - bang on the floors, cry out, scream, attempt to hack into his laptop. He didn't but he knew he should. The doors were locked, the chain was on him but maybe if he got some help, he could leave.
But if he left, he didn't have Xue Yang.
Walking into the living room, he walked over to the glass right away and set it upright on the coffee table. "I don't think it's a mess." He had cleaned, it definitely wasn't. "But it's just water, that's a good thing. Means nothing will stain."
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Xue Yang shoved his shoulder slightly, realising that wasn't much of a statement. Whatever. He tightened his hand to a fist a couple of times, flexing his fingers and finally gesturing to the bedroom door. "Get in there. The room."
He assumed Meng Yao knew what room he meant here. "You've got too much freedom."
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He was a sloppy kisser and he was already sweaty. Xue Yang felt a bit of disgust, but whatever. He pinned him against the door to the other room as soon as he had him in the bedroom. Then he squeezed his dick and bit down on his neck, making him moan obscenely loud. He wanted Meng Yao to hear, that was all his mind was focused on.
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He heard the door slam and two sets of footsteps. Hear the moans and the movement. He closed his eyes, frustrated and heart-broken.
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"W--what?" Confused, dazed, a little drunk, the man stared up at Xue Yang at first, before looking around, growing concern on his face. Until he saw Meng Yao and almost jumped out of his skin. "WHAT THE FUCK?! What's... What are you-- I don't--" He shook his head, pointing at Meng Yao and looking back at Xue Yang. "Huh?!"
"Did you forget how to end sentences?" Xue Yang tilted his head to the side, looking at Meng Yao. "Y'know what he's on about, xiao Yao?"
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Xue Yang rolled his eyes and then got to his feet, walking over and opening the drawer that had his shirts for going out. He pulled out one shirt and threw it at Meng Yao. It was, admittedly, ripped artistically in quite a few places, but Xue Yang thought it looked good. "Huh. you probably want something that covers your noodle arms."
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"I won't look right in this. I don't have muscles." For one. That and he didn't think he could pull of this sort of ripped punked vibe. He was more of a button up sort. "I don't want to highlight how tiny I am."
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He didn't have any preference there, although given the current temperatures, he'd prefer something sleeveless or with short sleeves. He had muscles, so. "I already told my friends I'm bringing you, so don't fuss so much."
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"That's them!" He told Meng Yao, then snorted. "I guess you know, stalker."
He pulled him along by his arm. Xinjia was sitting next to Jonathan, who had a hand on his boyfriend's shoulder and who looked at them with a polite smile. Chenglei was in the process of emptying his drink, then he set down the glass and waved at them.
"Eh, Xue Yang! That's who you're bringing?" Chenglei looked Meng Yao over, his face showing some obvious confusion. "Hi... sir?"
"That's Yao-ge. His leg's messed up, so you need to make space for him."
Chenglei nodded, turning to the side a little, so that Meng Yao could squeeze past him. "You can sit down."
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"You-- You don't have to call me a sir, please." Meng Yao bowed to the table and then looked at Xue Yang, clearly unsure. They were really going to sit so boxed in.
He swallowed hard and then moved along, awkwardly sliding through until he stumbled into his seat, trying to set his crutch aside but it slid almost immediately, hitting Jonathan and disappearing under the table. Great. Fuck. "Sorry!"
Xinjia gave Xue Yang a look and raised an eyebrow. Where the fuck did he find this weirdo?
"You are here to party, right?" How did someone with a crutch party?
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Jonathan handed Meng Yao his crutch back, smiling at him politely. He was trying to place his face. "They are children. Sorry about that."
"You're the perv," Xue Yang told him, one arm around Meng Yao as he grinned at Jonathan and then looked at Xinjia. "Who else is here tonight, eh?"
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