Rainbow-colored Rating: E | 6 K | Tags: Porn with Plot, Boys in Skirts

For Xiao Zhan to even know what Yibo did for a living and to then get a hold of his private phone number... something didn't add up, there had to be more to this.

Lan Huan opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, pressing his lips together tightly. "Mmhhh..." He cleared his throat, grimacing, eyes wandering around the kitchen. "Don't take what I'm about to ask the wrong way, OK?" "Answer my question first. What do you know?" "Are you still a virgin?" There was a good chance that in approximately three seconds time, the entire apartment complex would be reduced to ashes, because Lan Zhan was about to explode. "Excuse me?" he ground out, surprised by his own restraint. Besides the fact that this was absolutely none of his brother's business – they were close in many ways, but this was the sort of thing they simply did not talk about – but what could that possibly have to do with anything right now? "I'm not asking to annoy you or intrude," Lan Huan said calmly. "I promise it's important." Lan Zhan pressed his teeth together until his jaw hurt. Then he nodded, not looking his brother in the eye. He wasn't ashamed of his virgin status, even at the ripe old age of 30, he just didn't broadcast this fact to the world. For one, because this was extremely private information, and also because he knew how other people would react. Some would pity him (not that he needed it), or make fun of him (not that he cared), and others, like his brother, would be worried about him (not that he felt like there was anything to worry about). There would be gossip and whispers behind his back, but he didn't care about that sort of thing; he never had. The part that worried him, was that some people would try to 'fix him' and set him up on dates. He remembered how it had been during school and basic training, when his peers started having relationships, some innocent and some very much not. Some boys couldn't start bragging quickly enough about their conquests. Lan Zhan was simply not interested in any of that. He had more important things to do with his life. But even he could feel the ever-present peer pressure, the expectation that he too should be like others in this regard. And of course Wei Ying had appointed himself head of the 'We need to get Lan Zhan a girlfriend' committee, which had not helped the situation in the slightest.

"Marriage!" Wei Ying snapped at Jiang Cheng. "You want me to marry Lan Zhan. Are you serious?" "Yes," Jiang Cheng grinded out, "that is the offer on the table and that is what you will do." "I think we need to break out a dictionary and check what the word proposition actually means, because that sounded very much like an order." "I can make it sound any way you want, but this is happening." "Obviously," Lan Xichen folded his hands on top of the table, "the final decision will lie with-" "Oh, trust me," Jiang Cheng interrupted, "he's gonna do as he's told." Wei Ying had noticed the quick glance Lan Zhan had shot in Jiang Cheng's direction before he blinked exactly once and then his eyes were fixated on that illusive point in the middle of nowhere again. It almost made Wei Ying laugh. Lan Zhan had never warmed up to Jiang Cheng, no matter how many times Wei Ying had told him that beneath the brusque outer shell, there was actually a sweet, lovely human being hidden somewhere underneath. Deep, deep down underneath, and sometimes you needed a pickax and a headlamp to find it, but it was there. Stunts like this, however, where Jiang Cheng would loudly interrupt people or bark at them like a rabid pit bull, that had never helped to endear him to Lan Zhan. "Have you guys looked at a calendar lately?" Wei Ying asked with a light chuckle, attempting to soften the mood. "It's the 21st century. Arranged marriages aren't really a thing anymore." "They also aren't not a thing," Jiang Cheng countered. "This is a business arrangement." "Then you marry him. You're the CEO, not me." Wei Ying was pretty sure he saw Lan Zhan flinch, if only for a nanosecond. To him, the idea that he would be made to marry Jiang Cheng was probably even worse than... well, quite frankly, the idea that he would have to marry Wei Ying. They hadn't seen each other in forever, it had been years, decades, centuries even. Well, maybe not quite as long, but it had been a while since they'd gone to school together, and afterwards they had lost touch entirely. Mostly because of what had happened shortly before graduation.

When he walked out of the room, the door across the hallway opened and out came Yibo. "Oh, hey, good morning," Xiao Zhan waved at him. "Morning," Yibo mumbled, clearly still half asleep. "Wow, since when have you been up?" "Uh... half an hour or so." "Really?" Xiao Zhan wrinkled his nose. That didn't make any sense. "But when did you get the room." Yibo rubbed his eyes. "Huh?" "Your own room," Xiao Zhan pointed at it, "when did you get the room?" Yibo blinked at him, then looked behind himself at the door, then at the key card that he still held in his hand. "Last night, like everybody else," he said, making it sound more like a question than an answer. "What do you mean, last night, didn't... I thought they didn't have enough rooms." "The fuck are you on about," Yibo yawned and waved a hand. "Forget it. Need coffee. Explain later." He walked off, leaving Xiao Zhan standing there, questioning his sanity and general sense of reality. Either he was crazy or Yibo's sense of humor had become even weirder or... no, he couldn't... he couldn't have dreamt all that, could he? No. There was no way. It had all felt much too real, there was no way that...

Yibo pulled up slowly, came to a halt near him and turned off the engine. "Hey. Car trouble?" he said loud enough that he could be heard through the helmet. The guy slumped down so hard, his shoulders were about to collide with his hips. "No, all good, my ride is just so smoking hot, it sometimes catches fire, no trouble at all." Yibo was taken aback for a moment, but then he had to laugh. That was pretty funny as far as rude replies went. The guy looked at his phone, tapped the screen furiously and put it back in his pocket. "I'm sorry, sorry," he said, hands raised and bowing his head. "That was shitty of me." Yibo took off his helmet, then ran a hand over his head several times and shook his hair. Doing that was almost like a reflex for him by now. The intentionally disheveled look was way better than slick helmet hair. He saw the guy staring at him, eyebrows raised and his mouth slightly open. "What?" "You look like a shampoo commercial."