Chapter Text
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and the entire executive floor seemed to fall silent for a second.
Hua Yong stepped out like he owned the building—which he technically did as the owner of X-holdings—the sharp click of his heels echoing across the polished marble. Heads turned almost immediately. Conversations died mid-sentence. Someone near the reception desk visibly froze with a folder halfway in their hands.
It wasn't unusual for Hua Yong to attract attention. People stared at him everywhere he went. Some because of his beauty, some because of his status, and others simply because they couldn't quite understand what they were looking at.
Because fuck.
Hua Yong looked devastatingly ethereal.
A soft black sweater hung off one pale shoulder, exposing the delicate line of his collarbone and a teasing strip of smooth skin. The fabric clung to his narrow waist before giving way to a tiny pleated skirt that barely covered the tops of his thighs. Sheer black stockings hugged his long, slender legs, disappearing into sleek boots with silver buckles. His black hair fell in soft waves around his face, lips tinted a faint, tempting red, brown eyes framed by long lashes.
Beautiful.
Fragile-looking.
Dangerously misleading.
Nobody here would ever guess that beneath that pretty exterior stood one of the rarest and most powerful secondary genders in existence—an enigma.
And Hua Yong preferred it that way.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
He had been mistaken for an omega since childhood—fragile, soft, something to protect. Even after presenting, the assumptions never truly stopped.
Because enigmas weren't supposed to look like this.
Enigmas were supposed to be terrifying. Dominant. Overwhelming.
Not breathtakingly beautiful with soft features and a lazy smile.
So Hua Yong adapted.
If people already believed he was an omega, why correct them?
Revealing the truth would only bring endless scrutiny, and unwanted attention. He hated that.
But if he was being honest... that wasn't the only reason.
It was fun.
There was a wicked, addictive thrill in watching people underestimate him. The way alphas would puff up with protective instincts, the way others would soften their voices and treat him like glass—it gave him a delicious sense of power.
So when the opportunity came, he leaned into it completely.
It had started innocently enough during high school. After one too many "you'd look cute in this" comments from classmates, he tried on a skirt just to see what would happen.
The moment he stepped out of the dressing room—
Shen Wenlang had gone completely still. Eyes widening, sharp inhale, gaze dropping to Hua Yong's exposed thighs before snapping back up like he'd sinned. Hua Yong had laughed and teased, spinning mockingly. "Too pretty?"
"You look ridiculous" Wenlang had scoffed.
At the time, Hua Yong had laughed.
Because Shen Wenlang—cold, composed, arrogant Shen Wenlang—looked genuinely stunned for once in his life.
And at that moment, something clicked in Hua Yong's mind.
He liked it.
He liked looking pretty. He liked the confidence that came with short hemlines, soft fabrics, and delicate outfits that made his long legs and slim waist look even more devastating. Most of all, he loved the power it gave him. The ability to appear delicate and harmless while secretly being the most dangerous person in any room.
So he smiled sweetly, lowered his lashes, and let the world underestimate him—all while dressing in shorter skirts, tighter tops, and increasingly provocative outfits that drove everyone— especially Shen Wenlang—quietly insane.
And after that day, something shifted.
Subtle at first.
Wenlang's gaze began to linger longer than it should have. His jaw would tighten whenever Hua Yong wore shorter skirts, a flicker of something dark and hungry flashing in his eyes. He became strangely possessive in crowded places, always finding an excuse to stand closer, to hover just behind him like a silent warning.
Once, during a school festival, an alpha had flirted with Hua Yong for less than three minutes before Shen Wenlang appeared out of nowhere, sliding beside him with a cold, dangerous smile.
"Do you need something?"
The alpha had practically fled.
Hua Yong had laughed about the incident for weeks afterward, teasing Wenlang mercilessly about his overprotectiveness.
But now... things weren't funny anymore.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
Lately, Shen Wenlang had been avoiding him.
Excuses piled up—meetings, business trips, sudden silence on calls.
Then it got worse.
He stopped visiting spontaneously. Stopped replying to messages right away. Stopped coming over when Hua Yong asked him to look at new outfits—the one thing they used to do without fail.
And the eye contact...
God.
The eye contact was the worst part.
Or rather, the complete lack of it.
Wenlang barely looked at him anymore. Whenever Hua Yong stepped too close, he would stiffen almost imperceptibly, shoulders tensing like he was fighting some invisible battle, before finding an excuse to move away. Whenever Hua Yong leaned against him casually—something he had done a thousand times before—Wenlang would suddenly remember he needed to stand up, check something, or answer a nonexistent call.
Like he couldn't bear to be near him.
It hurt more than Hua Yong wanted to admit.
At first he had brushed it off. Shen Wenlang was a busy man. Of course he had responsibilities. But the excuses kept piling up, and the distance kept growing, until Hua Yong couldn't ignore the sharp sting in his chest anymore.
He was done waiting.
Done pretending everything was fine.
Done watching his childhood best friend—the one person who was supposed to know him better than anyone—treat him like a stranger.
Which was exactly why he was here today.
Dressed like sin itself, black-heeled boots clicking with every step, Hua Yong marched straight toward the CEO's office of the HS Group. Employees stared, whispered, and quickly looked away when his cold brown eyes swept over them. He didn't care.
The double doors to the office swung open with a loud bang.
Gaotu, who had been standing beside the desk reporting the day's schedule, nearly dropped his tablet. Behind the massive mahogany desk, Shen Wenlang slowly lifted his gaze from the documents in front of him.
And froze.
The silence that fell over the room was heavy. Sharp. Dangerous.
Hua Yong walked forward slowly, boots clicking, until he stood directly in front of the desk. Arms crossed, head tilted, one heel tapping impatiently.
He looked every bit the wronged, furious wife ready to drag her guilty husband's ass.
Wenlang's eyes flickered upward once—then immediately away.
Hua Yong's irritation intensified instantly.
There it was again. That avoidance. That refusal to look at him properly.
"Out" Hua Yong said coldly to Gaotu, not even sparing him a glance.
Gaotu straightened instantly, but still hesitated, eyes darting nervously toward Shen Wenlang.
Wenlang remained silent for a long second before he exhaled and gave a small nod. "Leave us."
The secretary didn't need to be told twice. He practically fled the office, the door clicking shut behind him with a finality that made the large room feel suddenly far too intimate.
Now it was just the two of them.
Hua Yong stared at the man behind the desk. Shen Wenlang looked as composed as ever—dark suit perfectly tailored, hair neatly styled, expression carefully neutral. But Hua Yong knew him too well. He could see the tension in his jaw. The way his fingers gripped the edge of the desk just a little too tightly.
"Explain" Hua Yong demanded, voice low and cold.
Wenlang adjusted the cuff of his sleeve with forced calmness.
"I don't have anything to explain."
Hua Yong laughed. A sharp, humorless sound that echoed in the quiet office.
"Really? You've been avoiding me for weeks, barely taking my calls, making excuses every time I ask you to come see a new outfit—and you have nothing to explain?"
Silence.
"You stopped looking at me."
That one landed.
Wenlang finally looked up instinctively—
And immediately regretted it.
Because Hua Yong was right there.
Standing under the bright office lights looking unfairly, devastatingly beautiful. The soft black sweater had slipped further down one shoulder, exposing a tempting expanse of pale skin and the delicate curve of his collarbone. His short pleated skirt had ridden up slightly, revealing even more of those soft thighs wrapped in sheer black stockings. Black hair framed his face in soft waves, brown eyes narrowed in irritation.
Wenlang's throat tightened dangerously.
He looked away again, too quickly.
Hua Yong saw it.
And something inside him snapped.
"Oh my god" he said flatly "You're actually serious."
Wenlang stayed silent.
Hua Yong walked around the desk slowly, deliberately, until he stood right infront of Wenlang's chair. Close enough to smell his cologne. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off him.
"Look at me."
No response.
"Shen Wenlang."
Still nothing.
Hua Yong reached down and grabbed his chin firmly, forcing his face upward with surprising strength.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you."
The second their eyes met, the atmosphere in the room changed violently.
Because Shen Wenlang looked wrecked. Dark eyes burning with exhaustion, hunger, and something raw that he had clearly been trying to bury for a long time. His gaze dragged over Hua Yong's face, then dropped—just for a second—to the exposed collarbone, the short skirt, the stockings hugging his thighs.
And Hua Yong felt that look like a brand against his skin—hot, starving, barely restrained.
And suddenly everything clicked into place.
Every avoided glance. Every weak excuse. Every stiff shoulder. Every careful inch of distance he had forced between them.
Hua Yong's expression shifted slowly from pure anger to stunned realization.
"...Oh" he whispered.
Wenlang closed his eyes, like he already knew he was doomed.
"Oh" Hua Yong repeated, softer this time.
A flicker of amusement curved his lips despite the surprise blooming in his chest. Because of course—of course it was Shen Wenlang. His arrogant, overprotective, secretly soft-hearted best friend had been carrying this for years. The realization felt strangely warm. Fond.
His grip on Wenlang's chin loosened a bit, fingers sliding gently along his jaw instead.
"You like me" Hua Yong said, voice quiet but laced with teasing affection.
A bitter, exhausted laugh escaped Wenlang's lips.
"That's what you figured out?"
Hua Yong blinked.
"You do."
"I've liked you for years."
The confession hung in the air between them.
Hua Yong's fingers loosened slightly against his jaw.
Years?
Wenlang opened his eyes—dark, tired, completely cornered.
"You wanted an explanation." he said quietly "There it is."
Hua Yong stared at him speechlessly.
Years.
All those years.
The endless teasing. The short skirts. The casual touches. The late-night modeling sessions where Hua Yong had spun in front of him without a care in the world. The flirting he had thought was completely harmless.
And Shen Wenlang had endured all of it—silently, patiently.
All while secretly in love with him.
No wonder he had started avoiding him.
Anyone would eventually go insane.
Wenlang gently pulled Hua Yong's hand away from his face and stood up, putting careful distance between them. "You should go home."
Hua Yong frowned immediately. "What?"
"You got your answer."
"That's it?"
"What else do you want from me?"
Hua Yong's eyes flashed with irritation. He stepped forward immediately, closing the gap again until they were barely inches apart. He grabbed Wenlang's tie and yanked him closer.
"So you avoid me for weeks, act like I'm poison every time I get near you, confess that you've been in love with me for years... and now you're telling me to go home?"
His voice dropped, low and dangerous. "Are you stupid?"
Wenlang's breathing turned uneven. "You don't understand—"
"No. You don't understand." Hua Yong's cheeks warmed, but he refused to back down.
"I noticed, not at first... But eventually. The way you looked at me. The way you got jealous constantly. The way you glared at any alpha who dare touch me. The way you suffered every single time I wore something short and pretty."
A helpless sound escaped Wenlang's throat.
Hua Yong's heartbeat sped up instantly.
God.
Seeing Shen Wenlang—usually composed, usually untouchable.
And now completely unraveling in front of him.
It was dangerously addicting.
"You should stop talking" Wenlang warned softly, voice rough.
Hua Yong tilted his head innocently.
"Why?"
"Because I'm trying very hard to behave right now."
The words sent heat straight to Hua Yong's face.
But instead of backing away—
He smiled—slowly, beautifully, deliberately.
And Shen Wenlang finally realized with horrifying clarity that Hua Yong was doing this on purpose.
Fucking lunatic.
All those years acting oblivious while secretly watching Wenlang lose his mind.
"You're cruel" Wenlang muttered.
Hua Yong laughed softly.
"You started it."
"No" Wenlang said quietly. "I really didn't."
That sudden seriousness made Hua Yong pause.
Wenlang reached up slowly, fingers brushing against the sleeve slipping off Hua Yong's shoulder.
The touch was featherlight. Careful. Almost reverent.
"I tried not to."
Something inside Hua Yong melted instantly.
Because that sounded painfully genuine.
He had really carried this alone for years.
No wonder he looked exhausted lately.
Hua Yong's expression softened for the first time since entering the office.
"...Wenlang"
Wenlang closed his eyes briefly at the softness in his voice. And that was the final crack in his restraint.
When he opened his eyes again, the control was gone—not completely, but enough.
Enough for Hua Yong to see exactly how badly he was wanted.
The realization sent a dangerous thrill through him.
"Say something" Wenlang murmured.
Hua Yong blinked.
"What?"
"You came here demanding answers." Wenlang's hand slid slowly to Hua Yong's waist. "Now give me one."
Hua Yong suddenly felt very warm.
For once in his life, he didn't have a teasing response ready.
Because the truth was...
Hua Yong had never really imagined a world where Shen Wenlang wasn't right beside him.
Even as children, Wenlang had always been there—at his side, protecting him, annoying him to no end, understanding him like no one else ever could. And apparently, loving him too.
And somewhere along the way, Hua Yong had started instinctively seeking him out first for everything. New clothes, new achievements, bad days, good days—it was always Wenlang.
Maybe because a part of him had already known all along.
Slowly, Hua Yong lifted his gaze again.
Then quietly asked:
"So if I say I want you to stop avoiding me..."
Wenlang's grip on his waist tightened immediately.
"And if I say" Hua Yong continued softly,teasingly. "that I like when you look at me like this..."
Wenlang looked seconds away from losing the last fragments of his composure.
"Hua Yong."
"And if I say I came here today, dressed like this on purpose, hoping you'd finally sna—"
Wenlang's control shattered completely.
He surged forward and kissed Hua Yong like a man who had been starving for years.
It was desperate, filthy.
Years of pent-up longing pouring out all at once. Hua Yong made a startled sound before melting into it, arms wrapping around Wenlang's neck as he was pulled flush against him. The kiss was possessive, devouring—tongues sliding, teeth nipping.
Wenlang's hand slid into Hua Yong's hair carefully despite the desperation in the kiss, holding him like something precious.
When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing heavily.
Hua Yong laughed breathlessly against his lips.
"You idiot... You spent YEARS holding back just to end up kissing me in your office anyway."
Wenlang's forehead rested against his, voice hoarse. "I didn't want to lose you."
"You could never lose me." Hua Yong's fingers traced Wenlang's jaw.
"I want you too. I've wanted this for longer than I realized."
Hua Yong reached up and fixed Wenlang's slightly crooked tie.
The domestic gesture made Wenlang's expression shift instantly.
Dangerously tender.
"You really love me that much?" Hua Yong asked quietly.
Wenlang looked at him for a long moment, his dark eyes steady and unwavering. The answer seemed so obvious to him—like Hua Yong was asking whether the sky was blue.
Then he exhaled softly, one hand still resting firmly against Hua Yong's waist.
"You have no idea."
The quiet sincerity in his voice made Hua Yong's chest tighten unexpectedly. Shen Wenlang had never been someone who spoke carelessly. Every word from him carried weight—especially these.
Hua Yong tried to laugh it off. He really did. But the sound came out softer and weaker than intended. "That serious?"
Wenlang's gaze didn't waver for even a second.
"Hua Yong" he said quietly "I almost tore apart an entire banquet hall once because an alpha touched your waist."
Hua Yong blinked, caught off guard. "...What?"
"You were eighteen." Wenlang's expression turned mildly annoyed, as if the memory alone still irritated him. "White suit. Your hair was longer then."
Hua Yong stared at him in genuine shock.
"The Zhao heir?" he guessed slowly.
"The one who tried flirting with you."
"The one you threatened?"
"I didn't threaten him."
"You glared at him until he nearly cried."
"He was touching you" Wenlang replied simply, as if that explained everything.
Hua Yong burst out laughing, bright and unrestrained. The sound filled the quiet office, his shoulders shaking as he pressed his forehead lightly against Wenlang's chest for a moment.
"Oh my god, that was because of that?"
Wenlang remained entirely unapologetic.
"You were wearing that ridiculous suit with the open back."
"That suit was beautiful" Hua Yong protested between laughs.
"It nearly killed me."
Hua Yong laughed even harder at the genuinely offended look on Wenlang's face. For a few precious seconds, the tension between them dissolved completely into something warm and familiar.
And in that moment, everything finally clicked into place.
All the years of quiet jealousy, lingering stares, and overprotectiveness suddenly made perfect sense. What Hua Yong had always brushed off as his best friend simply being dramatic had actually been love—deep, patient, and painfully restrained.
Hua Yong's laughter gradually softened into a gentle smile as he pulled back just enough to look up at Wenlang again. The golden light of the setting sun spilled across the office, casting a warm glow over both of them.
For the first time in a long while, everything felt right.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦