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“Boss says you need to go see her right away,” hissed the officer standing at the entrance as Wang Yibo entered the museum. Never one to go slow, he was already walking briskly, but Yibo sped up to a jog at the other man’s words, anxious to not get off on the wrong foot with the superintendent, who was bound to be in a bad mood if the Bunny struck again. Given that they were at an art museum, that was the most likely reason he’d been called in.
Yibo nodded in return as he passed other officers, asking one where Superintendent Meng was and getting directed to one of the new traveling exhibits. He was pointed towards the back area of the museum, the exhibit set aside in a place of honor with low, soothing instrumental music piped overhead. Seemed fairly typical at first glance, until one noticed the officers and people in suits milling about like angry ants after a foot has wiped out their home.
The superintendent of his department did not suffer fools, and it was clear she was angry as Yibo drew closer to where she was haranguing several officers, their heads hanging low.
“What do you mean, you ‘didn’t hear him’?” she demanded. “He’s right there on tape, not even a few feet from where you were standing! You didn’t even turn as he swooped in to yank it off the wall.”
“The music was loud,” one of the officers muttered, and she glared at him.
“This is not the first time we’ve been through this!” Superintendent Meng shouted, the officers in front of her cringing. She began counting on fingers, lecturing them like schoolchildren who have misbehaved as she vented her frustration. “Each time the M.O. is the same! Each piece of art that’s been stolen is rare, incredibly famous and stolen by an idiot in a leather bodysuit with guards standing only a few feet away! Do you have any idea how stupid we look right now?”
Yibo felt a surge of adrenaline as his suspicions were confirmed. He was right! This was another of the audacious art thefts that began with the most famous piece of a small art collection and had just escalated to the National Museum. He looked around to see what was taken, his face paling as even Yibo—who did not frequent art museums but skate parks in his spare time—recognized the artist.
The thief stole a Van Gogh?
Superintendent Meng finished her tirade—whether out of words or breath, no one could tell—and the beleaguered officers fled as soon as she gave a frustrated wave of dismissal.
"Detective Wang," she snapped, and Yibo hurried over, saluting respectfully.
She nodded grumpily in reply, motioning for him to relax. "Well?" she huffed. "You heard, I take it?"
Yibo nodded. “The Bunny struck again?”
The police department had canvassed the area after the first robbery, when the camera footage revealed—bright and clear behind the two oblivious security officers—someone in a skintight black leather bodysuit and a full-face bunny mask, long glittering ears sticking up in the air. The thief’s entire outfit could be purchased for the low, low cost of 200 yuan from any of the party suppliers in the city, and this was the third time they had managed to elude the police.
“Yeah,” Superintendent Meng said, heaving a sigh of frustration. “This time, Interpol is threatening to get more involved. It was on loan from a private collection in Europe and—”
She continued talking, but Yibo had already tuned her out, not needing the specifics that he would find in the brief. Looking around the room carefully, he tried to figure out what was taken. He quickly spotted an empty area on the other side of the exhibit, and when the superintendent drily dismissed him, obviously aware that he was anxious to get started, he strode over to the wall. The plaque labeled it as the first of two series called Sunflowers.
“It’s one-of-a-kind,” an appreciative voice spoke next to him, and Yibo turned to see a handsome man holding a clipboard. He was taller than Yibo with a black leather satchel swung over his shoulder and a mole under his lower lip, and Yibo’s heart stuttered for a moment before resuming its normal pace.
You are.
“Aren’t all the paintings here?” Yibo asked instead, intrigued by the reverence in the tall man’s voice.
The gorgeous man threw back his head and laughed. When he finally quieted, he was smiling at Yibo in a way that had to be illegal, somewhere. “That’s true,” he admitted, brushing an unruly lock of black hair from his forehead. He was wearing a soft gray overcoat and buttoned-up shirt, looking the epitome of a studious academic, easily blending into the current environment as the head of the museum stood in the corner of the room, speaking with Superintendent Meng in a low, urgent voice. “But this one was more special than most. It was the first in Van Gogh’s iconic series, and while he never titled them, this one is usually called Three Sunflowers. It was a bold departure from his prior work. His color choice was very different, and it started him on a completely different path.”
Beaming at Yibo, the man adjusted his glasses from where they had drifted down his nose, his big eyes bright with enthusiasm. A flutter in Yibo’s chest made him swallow, trying not to lick his lips for fear of making his sudden interest too obvious. There was something about the handsome man in the nerdy outfit that captured Yibo’s attention. His visuals were incredible, sure, and Yibo was not finished drinking in the view, but there was also an undercurrent of passion in the man’s lovely voice that had him stand up and take note, identifying a similar zeal to his own interests.
“That’s interesting,” Yibo said honestly, examining Xiao Zhan. He held out his hand. “Detective Wang Yibo with the Beijing Police.”
The man gracefully inclined his head, extending his own hand in return. “Xiao Zhan,” he introduced himself.
“Do you work here at the museum, Xiao Zhan?” Yibo asked, reluctantly letting go of him and taking a small step back. He thought he saw a flicker of keen interest in the other man’s eyes, but it disappeared so fast that Yibo wasn’t sure he had seen it at all, the other man smiling cheerfully.
“No,” Xiao Zhan replied, shaking his head. “I’m an art expert, I work with a company that does authentication and appraisal for several of the major insurance companies, like the one this museum uses. I just need to sign a few documents, so I’m waiting for her.” He motioned to the woman speaking urgently with Yibo’s boss.
“Were you the one who authenticated it when it was first brought in for the exhibit?” Yibo asked, and Xiao Zhan nodded.
“Yes, so now I’m the one who has to testify that the real thing was stolen,” he said with a helpless shrug. There was something about him that made Yibo want to move closer, get into his space and see what the buttoned-up academic would do. Despite his height, he was delicate in a way that Yibo wanted to cage against a wall, feel the other man’s body pressed against his own. Yibo had just opened his mouth to ask another question when he heard Superintendent Meng call out from across the room, beckoning him to return.
“I have to go,” Yibo said, reluctantly stepping away. “But I might have some follow-up questions.”
“Oh! Here,” Xiao Zhan offered, reaching into his pocket. “Take my card.”
“Giving me your number before I even got to ask you for it,” Yibo teased, letting his voice drop low as Xiao Zhan took a quick breath, looking startled. “I’ll call you soon, Zhan-ge .” He brushed his fingers deliberately across Xiao Zhan’s as he took the proffered card, not hiding a smirk at the red flush he saw on Xiao Zhan’s cheeks at his brazen flirting. He walked slowly backward as he moved away, finding it hard to break his gaze from the stunned man staring at him in a way that made him think the feeling might be mutual.
By the time he got back to his boss, Yibo was all business, listening to Superintendent Meng as she broke down the plan of attack for the initial investigation. Despite the late hour—and his already-long day—he agreed to coordinate the sweep for the rest of the evening. Yibo made a quick stop at the security room to ask a few questions before heading out for a long, sleepless evening canvassing the streets of Beijing.
It was as fruitless as he’d known it would be. Nobody saw a thief with a painting wearing a skintight black leather bodysuit and a glittering bunny mask. What a surprise.
This tedium was the worst part of his job, but it took up far more of his job than what he actually loved. The thrill of the chase was what kept Yibo working as an underpaid detective, and he was going to find the Bunny behind this mystery no matter how many late nights it took.
Yibo went to sleep that night after a long, hot shower washing off the chill damp that had crept into his bones. As he drifted off, though, there was a certain glasses-wearing man that crept into his thoughts, and Yibo fell asleep with a smile.
The next day, Yibo waited until a very reasonable 9:01 AM to call Xiao Zhan.
He thought he could hear underlying amusement in the man’s tone, but the appraiser was friendly, instantly recalling Yibo from the day before.
They agreed to a meeting at Xiao Zhan’s office in the early afternoon, and the rest of the morning for Yibo was spent distractedly reviewing the security setup at the museum. Most of what made up investigating was tedious research, regardless of what was shown on TV, and Yibo diligently took notes, determined not to miss anything, even if every period reminded him of a certain somebody’s beauty mark. Despite his daydreaming, Yibo jerked to attention as he finished reading a certain section of the employee manual, dashing off an email to his contact point at the museum to confirm something before grabbing his jacket and heading to Xiao Zhan’s office.
Xiao Zhan’s office was in one of the more fashionable areas of Beijing, but older money, not the flashy kind. Yibo could see it in the luxury cars idling along the streets, waiting to be shooed away only to drive around the block and resume waiting for their wealthy employers. The kind of people who would prefer paying tickets to having to wait for thirty seconds for the driver to return from something as pedestrian as a parking lot. He saw it in the elegant decor in the foyer of the office building Xiao Zhan worked in. And he saw it in what the security guard was wearing, Yibo’s lips thinning as he kept his cool, showing his ID and waiting to be allowed to pass to the elevator.
“You came!” Xiao Zhan’s radiant smile was more lethal than Yibo remembered, and he tried to recover quickly as Xiao Zhan bounded over to walk him into the modern office. Music was playing quietly in the background, an elegant, refined feel to the space. The front room looked clean at first glance, but as Xiao Zhan bubbled on enthusiastically about various paintings and sketches that he was working on, Yibo spotted sketch books stuffed with notes, a desk hidden behind a screen overflowing with paperwork. Xiao Zhan apparently wore many hats, doing minor color restoration for private collections in addition to his contracted appraisal and identifying work for the museum.
More than meets the eye with this one.
He wandered over to examine a bright sketch hanging on a wall just as Xiao Zhan finally came to a pause, stopping to take a breath. “Zhan-ge is so talented,” Yibo said with a crooked smile, examining the piece closely, and Xiao Zhan rolled his eyes, dropping some of his shopkeeper persona. It wasn’t completely gone, but it was satisfying to poke at Xiao Zhan until he was less polite. It felt more sincere, and something sparked in Yibo at finally seeing something genuine in the handsome artist, just as he had the evening before at the museum, when Xiao Zhan talked Yibo’s ear off about the stolen painting and left an impression that the detective was still trying to unravel.
“Don’t you start,” Xiao Zhan grumbled half-heartedly, but his eyes were sparkling, clearly pleased by the compliment. Biting his lip in a way that redirected all of Yibo’s blood flow south, Xiao Zhan gave a self-deprecating shrug, shooting Yibo a guileless smile. “I get that it’s not as exciting as police work, Detective Wang.”
He was laying it on a little thick, and Yibo smirked at him, wondering who the real Xiao Zhan was beneath the act. Yesterday in the glasses and buttoned-up shirt, Xiao Zhan had looked gentle, sensitive, academic. Passionate about art and obviously surprised by Yibo’s flirting. Today, he looked soft and sweet, wearing a too-big sweater, sleeves sliding low over his small hands. It was a deliberate response to their meeting yesterday, designed to attract, and Yibo knew it. But being aware of it didn’t mean he wouldn’t appreciate the effort. Xiao Zhan did go through all this trouble, after all.
Yibo’s lip curled up as he shifted closer, watching for Xiao Zhan’s response as he got into his personal space, far too close for politeness. “Need some excitement in your life, Zhan-ge?” he purred, his hand itching to reach out and pull the other man close. His eyes kept drifting towards Xiao Zhan’s lush lips as he spoke, wondering what they would feel like against his own, but he held himself in check, trying to maintain some professional distance, as little as it was.
“I thought I already found some,” Xiao Zhan replied with a coy smile, confirming Yibo’s suspicion that he was not innocent to his own charms. This man was the kind that knew he was gorgeous, knew that the glistening doe eyes and mile-long legs would make people run themselves stupid over him, but it was more than that. He knew how to wield it in a way that only made him more attractive.
If asked about it, Yibo would bet that Xiao Zhan would say he was a six out of ten, acting modest and saying all the right words. Sexy and smart. Dangerous, this one, but more than Yibo could handle? He wasn’t sure, but he wanted to find out. When Xiao Zhan blinked owlishly at him, all sweater paws and tight pants, managing to pull off both vixen and virgin at the same time, Yibo decided he was done waiting.
It was the matter of a moment to cage Xiao Zhan against the wall, the matter of a moment to trap Xiao Zhan’s slender wrists within one hand and shove them above his head, capturing the other man’s soft lips. It crossed Yibo’s mind that this was a re-purposing of his usual training to subdue someone, but it was still very effective as Xiao Zhan went boneless under his touch, falling against Yibo in a way that made something hot and desperate rouse inside of the detective, fighting to take control. Yibo had a sudden desire to break him apart and see if he could put Xiao Zhan back together.
As they kissed, his lips were as perfect as Yibo had imagined, better even, and when they finally broke it off for air, Yibo pulled back to see Xiao Zhan panting, his eyes wet and bright, his lips swollen. He looked delicious and Yibo wanted nothing more than to strip off his soft blue sweater, trace his skin with his tongue.
He leaned forward again and Xiao Zhan’s eyes fluttered closed, his lips parting, only to shoot wide open in shock as Yibo murmured, “Cute,” in his ear and pulled away, releasing his wrists and sticking his hands in his pockets. He was disciplined enough to not go farther over the line than he could pull back from, but it was awfully tempting as Xiao Zhan stared at him incredulously, his mouth hanging open in shock.
“Really?” Xiao Zhan asked, sounding offended as Yibo sauntered over to the screen, his eyes drifting over the pictures strewn about the desk. The art expert stormed over, gathering the assorted piles and stuffing them into a drawer. He huffed, puffing his cheeks out like an angry chipmunk as his lips settled into a shadow of a pout.
“I’m still on the clock, Zhan-ge,” Yibo commented, a sinful smile playing on his lips as he watched Xiao Zhan frown at him, his brow furrowed.
“Then how can I help you, Detective?” Xiao Zhan asked crisply, folding his arms across his chest.
Yibo liked to hear that coming from this gorgeous man’s lips. He didn’t want to stop, of course, but he had at least enough self-discipline not to fuck one of the people associated with a crime during the shift he was investigating said crime. Even if that person was gazing at him through long lashes in a way that made Yibo want to push him against the desk, his delicate waist held within Yibo’s hands.
“Tell me about your day yesterday,” Yibo said, managing to hold himself back, albeit reluctantly.
“Oh!” Xiao Zhan looks startled before his lips pull into a sweet smile. “Am I a suspect?”
“Should you be?” Yibo countered, and Xiao Zhan heaved a melodramatic sigh.
“Well, if you were just using me hoping I’d turn out to be the thief, I’m going to have to disappoint you.”
Yibo just gave Xiao Zhan a crooked smile in return, his tone teasing. “You could never disappoint me, Zhan-ge.”
“What about me then?” Xiao Zhan asked daringly, his lip sticking out in a pout. “What if I end up disappointed?”
“And what is it that you want?” Yibo asked, examining him. The question seemed to take Xiao Zhan by surprise, a sudden break in his playful facade that Yibo wished he could have seen for longer than a moment. But a moment was all he got, Xiao Zhan quickly pulling on his invisible mask once more as a cheerful smile wiped off his momentary fluster.
“I think I’ve been pretty clear, Detective Wang,” Xiao Zhan said, flashing Yibo a coy smile. In contrast to his words, he moved away, walking to the other side of the desk as if needing to put space between them, and Yibo had to curl one hand into a fist, his short fingernails digging into his palms to stop himself from chasing after the gorgeous man, so close but so far away with the furniture between them.
“Mmmm,” Yibo hummed nonchalantly. He hid his pleasure at the frustration that swept across Xiao Zhan’s face. Again, another momentary flash that was quickly gone.
Xiao Zhan thought for a moment, his arms folded over his chest. “I worked here all day. I left to have lunch with a friend when he stopped by. That was it.”
Yibo nodded, taking out his notepad to write it down. Just as he was about to put it back in his pocket, he paused, asking as if an afterthought, “That was it? You didn’t come by the museum at all?”
Xiao Zhan shook his head. “Only when I was called about it that evening, after the theft. I’m sure you can check the security footage in the museum to see when I arrived,” he offered, and Yibo nodded.
“Well,” the detective said, putting away his notes and extending his hand. “I’ll see you later, Zhan-ge.”
Xiao Zhan’s lips curved into a wry smile as he shook it. “I hope so, Detective. Anything I can do to help.”
Yibo held on to Xiao Zhan’s hand, not releasing it as Xiao Zhan’s expression turned confused. “Hey, is this Stefanie Sun?”
A new song had just begun to play in the background of the refined office, and Xiao Zhan’s expression brightened at Yibo’s question. "Yes, do you like her?” he asked, sounding enthusiastic.
Yibo shrugged. “I haven’t heard much.” He paused for a moment, then nodded at Xiao Zhan without saying anything else. The older man looked confused at the random question, but Yibo just turned to leave the office, feeling the burn of the art expert’s stare as he walked out.
Okay, let’s play.
That evening, Yibo was standing outside, hidden in the shadows of an alley as Xiao Zhan left his apartment. His black satchel was swung over his shoulder as he casually walked down the street, Yibo following behind at a distance. It was several blocks to a subway station, three stops, and several more blocks before he watched Xiao Zhan enter a dark building with neon signs in the windows. Not far behind, he glimpsed Xiao Zhan disappearing into the next room just as he was stopped after his first step in what appeared to be a holding area, a big man in an expensive suit looking unimpressed with Yibo’s plain attire, scanning him up and down.
Yibo looked around; the place didn’t seem busy. He turned around, and nobody was waiting behind him. “You going to let me in?” he asked the bouncer bluntly, and the man frowned, his neck tattoos wriggling as he casually flexed.
“You don’t really fit in,” he said gruffly. Yibo was unimpressed. He’d dealt with tougher men than this one. He recognized the art on his skin, though, as the marks of one of the gangs operating in the area. He’d need to be careful not to cause a scene without any backup.
“My money’s still good,” Yibo said wryly. “It fits in just fine.” He held up a bill, not interested in trying to convince the man any further, and the large guard sighed before pocketing the bill and shrugging.
“Fine,” he said dubiously. “Your funeral.”
Yibo nodded at the security guard before walking to the door through which Xiao Zhan had disappeared. He walked into a bar, lights whirling around the room as a man up front warbled to something loud that he couldn’t quite reach.
I believe in a thing called looooooo—
Yibo understood now why the security guard was reluctant to let him in. This place was… well, flashy was a good word for it. Glitter, sequins and leather revealed this club to be for a particular audience, and Yibo was going to attract attention as someone dressed more like, well, an undercover police officer than a fashionable bar patron. He ordered a beer, lounging against a wall in a dark corner, and tried to ignore the questioning looks as he scouted the area for a certain tall figure. The performer finished his song, bowed to a very generous round of applause given his enthusiasm greatly outweighing his abilities, and then scurried off the stage as a petite woman in a kitten mask came out to take the microphone.
“Well done,” she announced, her voice ringing out clearly despite the loud noise of the bar. “Next up for our talent night, we have everyone’s favorite… put your hands together for Daytoy!”
Turned out that the applause before was a mere shadow of the noise level this crowd could achieve, the bar ringing with enthusiastic clapping and shouting as Xiao Zhan strode out in a fitted black suit, a gold chain resting on his delicate throat in a way that Yibo could barely pull his eyes away from. He looked incredible, his legs a mile long in tight leather pants, but what really drew attention was the his stage presence.
The way Xiao Zhan moved wasn’t the most rhythmic, wasn’t the most impressive in terms of technical performance prowess, but the way he owned the stage made it completely his in a way that Yibo didn’t think he ever saw before. Yibo was completely captivated.
Who was this guy?
It wasn’t that Xiao Zhan was unrecognizable. If anything, Yibo could see the same coy look from when they first met, the same sweet magnetism from when Xiao Zhan had back at his office, but all of it dialed up to eleven as Xiao Zhan strutted across the stage, singing his heart out to, yes, a Stefanie Sun song.
His voice was incredible, and Yibo was captivated instantly, barely paying attention to the lyrics, more interested in Xiao Zhan’s perfect lips and gorgeous eyes as he sang, each word feeling directed straight to him, even though the other man had no idea he was there.
Suspended in the sky shining, reflecting my loneliness
Reminding me that I’m deeply in love deeply with a lonely star
It was only as Xiao Zhan whirled off the stage, stopping short at seeing Yibo standing in front of him, that Yibo finally got to see Xiao Zhan lose his perfect composure, a sudden change from consummate performer to completely struck dumb.
“D-Detective,” Xiao Zhan said, quickly flashing Yibo a blinding smile. Yibo didn’t give him time to recover though, grabbing him by the waist and pulling him in as if they were lovers.
“I know, Zhan-ge,” he breathed into Xiao Zhan’s ear, feeling the other man stiffen. “I know everything.” He felt Xiao Zhan shiver underneath him in a way that felt very satisfying, and Yibo let himself be led to the backstage, pulled along by Xiao Zhan as the academic/shop owner/performer led him to a small room in the back.
“What are you talking about?” Xiao Zhan demanded as soon as Yibo shut the door behind them. He let out a squawk as Yibo grabbed him, pushing him against a door.
“Stop playing games.” Yibo replied confidently, enjoying the surprise in Xiao Zhan’s eyes. He got the impression that Xiao Zhan, gentle scholar that he might appear, wasn’t used to being discovered as the multifaceted performer that he was. Yibo had seen through it being an act from the start, but the extent of what he had discovered in such a short time was nothing short of mindblowing. Xiao Zhan was not to be underestimated, as so many had clearly done. “What got you started? Do you have a hidden family you’re taking care of? Maybe you’re just not paid enough?”
“For someone who claimed to know everything, you don’t seem to know much at all,” Xiao Zhan sniffed, turning his head away from Yibo.
Yibo just laughed, looking more delighted than offended at Xiao Zhan’s attitude as he moved closer, breathing in his ear. “I know you’re the one behind the thefts, Bunny ” he teased in a low voice, the other man’s eyes widening.
“Is that so?” Xiao Zhan asked skeptically. “And what makes you so sure?”
“I’m a detective,” Yibo shot back. “You made it pretty easy though. Obsessed with Stefanie Sun much?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Xiao Zhan denied automatically, shaking his head, and Yibo scoffed.
“There are some things you definitely don’t know,” Yibo agreed smugly. “Like the rules in the employee manual for music that can be played in the museum. Or maybe you just didn’t think I’d notice?”
“How often do police officers pay attention to that level of detail?” Xiao Zhan muttered.
“So you did know that only instrumental music is supposed to be played!” Yibo exclaimed, pleased to be right.
“I didn’t say that,” Xiao Zhan replied half-heartedly, but he didn’t bother to deny it.
The employee manual that Yibo had been reading earlier outlined the requirements for museum-approved music. The most obvious was that the music could only be instrumental unless specified for a certain exhibit by the artist, and Yibo had received confirmation from his email to his museum contact.
“You were too memorable, you know,” Yibo mentioned offhandedly, his lips curving into another smug smile as the flush on Xiao Zhan’s face deepened. He only smirked at Xiao Zhan’s outrage, his thumbs stroking the singer’s flank.
“What?” he asked, sounding bewildered.
Yibo clucked his tongue. “Poor Zhan-ge,” he said, feigning sympathy. “The security guard remembered you stopping by a few days before.”
Xiao Zhan continued to blink at him, playing dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Mmhmm,” Yibo said. “It wasn’t hard for me to find the tape confirming his story either.”
“Story?” Xiao Zhan asked.
“Mn,” Yibo nodded. “When I showed up, one of the guards sent by the department complained that the music was loud. That seemed strange to me, because what museums play loud music?” Xiao Zhan glared at him, but didn’t say anything. “None, of course,” Yibo continued regardless. “But the other witnesses said the same thing at the other thefts. There wasn’t camera footage with sound for those, though. The private collection and the smaller museum didn’t have that level of security, and the witnesses didn’t mention the music until I went back and questioned them. When I played the song, though, both of them confirmed that they remembered hearing ‘Kepler’ playing during the thefts.”
“All because the thief used a Stefanie Sun song while the painting was stolen?” Xiao Zhan asked, sounding defeated.
“Not just that,” Yibo replied, resisting the urge to crow at having his hypothesis confirmed. Yibo loved being right, but by the frown on the other man’s face, he could tell that Xiao Zhan did not enjoy being wrong. “Yes, clearly the thief liked Stefanie Sun, just like you, and especially liked ‘Kepler,’ also just like you. But there were too many little things, Zhan-ge. It was also the guard at your office building with a bulge to his suit where a gun holster would be.” He watched Xiao Zhan flinch as another arrow struck its mark. “Your desk was messy, but I spotted sketches of the streets surrounding the first theft. You didn’t have to do that for this one though, did you?” he asked. “No need to run away like that when they already knew who you were.”
“Aren’t you clever?” Xiao Zhan commented, staring at Yibo intently. His formerly shy persona had all but disappeared, and Yibo finally got the impression that he was seeing the real Xiao Zhan as the feisty man glared at him, looking as ferocious as the glittering black bunny mask that he wore during his heist.
Yibo just smirked at him. “I have to be to keep up with the Bunny,” he shot back. Xiao Zhan’s eyes narrowed at him before widening again, looking surprised.
“You’re not making fun of me,” he realized, and Yibo shook his head.
“Are you kidding?” he asked. “I’ve been so bored, Zhan-ge.”
“Bored,” Xiao Zhan said, sounding skeptical, and Yibo nodded, not bothering to hide his enthusiasm.
“Bored,” he repeated shamelessly. “But I have to know why you did it.”
“What does it matter?” Xiao Zhan asked, tilting his head. “Maybe I just did it for the thrill.”
“I think that’s why you wore that bodysuit,” Yibo said, his voice getting husky as he felt Xiao Zhan tremble beneath him as he tightened his grip, continuing to cage him against the wall. Despite the other man’s height, Yibo was the one in control, and they both knew it. As Xiao Zhan swayed against him, though, Yibo wondered how much control he actually had.
“Maybe it is,” Xiao Zhan admitted. He blinked slowly at Yibo, biting his lip in a way that was far too effective at derailing Yibo’s train of thought. “What did you think of it?”
“I think I want to see it in person,” Yibo admitted, and Xiao Zhan’s lips twisted up into a wry smile.
“Not sure it’ll go well with my prison outfit,” he said. “That’s where this ends, doesn’t it?”
Yibo shrugged. “Does it?” he said enigmatically, and Xiao Zhan just raised an eyebrow.
“You’re the one calling the shots here,” he pointed out.
“Maybe,” Yibo agreed. “But if I tell all this to my boss, she’s going to want a lot more evidence than a security guard saying a cute guy stopped by and asked where the music is played from. And that the security guard left him alone for a minute because the cute man said he saw someone suspicious in the other room, and was gone by the time he got back.”
Xiao Zhan looked amused despite his predicament. “Cute, huh?” he asked.
“Adorable mole and all,” Yibo confirmed, getting a chuckle from the other man.
There was a knock at the door behind Xiao Zhan, and Yibo released him, letting Xiao Zhan pull open the door to the shorter woman from the stage. She examined him, then darted her eyes over to Yibo before returning to Xiao Zhan, a clear question in her expression.
“I have to go, Lulu,” Xiao Zhan told her, and her worried expression deepened.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she demanded, and he nodded slowly, staring over at Yibo.
“I think I might be.”
Yibo drove them both to Xiao Zhan’s apartment building, and Yibo noticed no less than three of the staff along the way sporting similar neck tattoos to the man from the bar, though different colors, different assumed affiliations.
“Which gang do you work for?” he asked, and Xiao Zhan hummed, letting himself into a luxurious apartment that made it clear his money came from more than just an insurance company. If Yibo had had any doubts prior to this moment, they had immediately vanished.
“None,” Xiao Zhan finally responded, turning on the lights to a room full of paintings of various shapes and sizes. They were by a variety of artists, reflecting a variety of styles, but they didn’t clash. Instead, they were arranged in a way that felt organic, a steady development of art throughout the ages.
“All of them?” Yibo asked, dropping that bag he’d brought in from his trunk on the ground and staring at the number of paintings and statues on display in this large apartment.
“Maybe,” Xiao Zhan admitted. “Wine? Beer?”
Yibo accepted a drink, taking a swallow without noticing the taste as he recognized the first piece stolen hanging off to the side. “You don’t even make money from this?” he asked, and Xiao Zhan shot him an incredulous look.
“Do I look like I’m not making money?” he asked flatly, waving his hand at the opulent apartment. “I just also don’t want the art destroyed.”
The final piece clicked into place. Yibo had figured out the “what” and the “who.” He’d even figured out the “how” and the “when,” though he hadn’t revealed that to Xiao Zhan yet. The “why,” though, had still been an unknown, but the revulsion on Xiao Zhan’s face at the idea of destroyed art and the fact that he did work for insurance companies…
“A private collection in Europe,” Yibo recalled. “The other two thefts were from private collections too, weren’t they? One was a private collection on display at a small exhibit, the other was from a private showing at another small museum.”
Xiao Zhan nodded, his eyes darting over to an empty space over to the corner before moving back to focus on Yibo. Yibo filled in the rest. “That’s where you were going to put it?” he guessed. “Were you hired by the owners each time?”
Xiao Zhan heaved a sigh, dropping onto a nearby couch and taking a big gulp from his own full wine glass. “I’m known for helping provide identification for both legitimate and not-so-legitimate art circles,” he admitted. “It was only recently that I got involved with this. The first reached out to me and just wanted it destroyed somehow. They suggested burning down the entire gallery.” He shuddered, looking disgusted, and Yibo felt a pang of affection at the man’s obvious passion for art.
“Turning to a life of crime to keep these paintings from being destroyed?” he asked, and Xiao Zhan nodded reluctantly.
“I didn’t even do anything wrong, really,” he pointed out sullenly. “The owners reached out to me in the first place. Who was I really hurting?”
“It’s fraud with the insurance companies,” Yibo pointed out matter-of-factly. “Trespassing and theft from the actual venues, both gallery and museums.” He raised a hand, cutting off Xiao Zhan’s indignant protest that he could see forming on his pretty lips. “It was trespassing when you went in outside of the job you were hired for,” he said, watching Xiao Zhan’s mouth clamp shut, looking mulish but unable to argue.
That is how it all worked, though, and Yibo handed Xiao Zhan the bag he’d brought in from his car, watching the confused expression turn to stunned as Xiao Zhan pulled the tube out of the duffel bag.
“How-—why?” he stuttered, gingerly removing the top to the container and confirming that yes, it was the Three Sunflowers painting that Xiao Zhan had carefully stored in there the day before, after stealing it out from under both the officers’ and security guards’ noses, all while wearing a black leather bodysuit and glittering bunny ears.
“Why the bunny ears?” Yibo retorted. “They had to have made it more difficult.”
Xiao Zhan shrugged. “The more surreal, the less people remembered my height or tried to figure out if I was a man or a woman. This way, it was too fantastic to be believed, with no real description.”
Yibo nodded. “And you just walked out of the museum in your own clothes, coming back to pick up the painting later.”
Xiao Zhan smiled weakly. “I guess you found the satchel.”
Yibo was pleased he put it together. “I went back to talk to the head of the museum,” he confirmed. “I asked if you had reached out at all that day, and she said no, but that you did call her today to ask if you could pick up your bag tomorrow.”
“...And you offered to bring it to me,” Xiao Zhan said flatly.
“Of course!” Yibo said with a brilliant smile. “I had just reviewed the tapes of you entering and leaving the museum that evening at the security station, and you had a black satchel when you left and when you entered,” he pointed out. “How many bags do you actually have?”
Xiao Zhan sighed. “Just the two.”
Yibo nodded. “So you hide the painting somewhere in the museum after stealing it, then come back the next day. And they don’t check your bag because it’s been sitting in the head of the museum’s office the whole time.”
Xiao Zhan nodded slowly as Yibo croaked out a laugh. “You’re incredible, Zhan-ge!”
“Well, what are you going to do now?” Xiao Zhan asked stiffly, and Yibo pulled over a chair, sitting in it as he took another sip of his drink and watched Xiao Zhan stare at him in his periphery.
“This was interesting,” Yibo admitted. “Have you ever thought about working for us instead of against us?”
Xiao Zhan raised an eyebrow. “Would your department let me keep the art after they put away the owner for insurance fraud?”
“Probably not,” Yibo said, and Xiao Zhan nodded.
“I agree,” he said, still looking stubborn. “So where do we go from here?”
Yibo's eyes glittered as he moved closer to the other man, who refused to back down an inch. Good. Yibo liked it that way. Having someone worth pursuing was much more satisfying.
"Maybe there's a way we can both get what we want, Zhan-ge."
The Bunny strikes again! was the headline only a few weeks later, and Yibo followed in the Superintendent’s wake at the next scene of the crime, texting with Xiao Zhan as she ripped the officers who had been assigned there in two.
“Did you even try?” she demanded, ignoring the lone security guard trying to bring attention to the fact that the music was so loud. Yibo didn’t draw attention to him, just glaring at him as soon as the Superintendent’s back was turned until the other man put down his hand, not sure what he had done wrong.
Really, the security guard was better than most, more interested in the thieves being brought to justice than trying to hide his incompetence. If more guards were like that, Xiao Zhan might have been caught already. Instead, usually they just wanted to not be blamed more than they cared about catching the bad guy, and it worked out well for the criminals, less good for those trying to enforce the law.
As Superintendent Meng dismissed them, Yibo wandered the room, studiously taking notes and ignoring the gorgeous man with a mole under his lip speaking to another officer canvassing the museum for possible witnesses.
“Actually, this painting had just come from a private collection,” Yibo overheard Xiao Zhan’s excited voice begin to tell the too-long story to a bored beat cop just trying to make sure she interviewed everyone in the vicinity for any possible clues.
“I got him,” Yibo said, cutting off Xiao Zhan as the young officer looked up from her notebook with a relieved smile.
“Thanks, Detective,” she said gratefully, nodding at Xiao Zhan and scurrying back to her team.
“Thanks, Detective,” Xiao Zhan repeated, adding his own emphasis to the last word, and Yibo’s eyes darkened as he looked Xiao Zhan up and down.
“Going to make me chase you again, Zhan-ge?” he asked in a low voice, watching Xiao Zhan’s cheeks flush a satisfying red as he peered at Yibo through his long lashes.
“Only as much as you want to,” Xiao Zhan replied coyly, and Yibo’s lips curved up, beginning to imagine possibilities for the night ahead. Cat burglar/Detective was one of their favorite things to roleplay—for obvious reasons—and just thinking of how gorgeous Xiao Zhan looked spread out and in handcuffs was enough to completely derail his line of thought.
“Earth to Detective Yibo,” he heard through the sudden haze of desire, and it was only with effort that he managed to drag himself from his NSFW thoughts to see Xiao Zhan staring at him with a bemused face, his hand still stuck out as he had obviously been waving it in Yibo’s face.
“Staying up too late?” Xiao Zhan asked, and a flash of heat zipped through Yibo, his pants feeling uncomfortably tight even with dozens of folks working nearby.
“Not too late,” Yibo denied his obvious exhaustion, despite Xiao Zhan being the lone reason for it. Or rather, Yibo’s unquenchable desire for Xiao Zhan being what kept them both up late at night, now. “I’m just a little tired.”
“Uh huh,” Xiao Zhan replied, looking amused. “Well, if there’s anything else I can help you with…”
And help him, he had been. Yes, Xiao Zhan continued stealing the occasional painting (and getting away with it,) but he more than made up for it with his implicating of others in the art world. From gangsters to forgers, Xiao Zhan was font of information, and Yibo and his investigations were benefiting from it
Yibo just smirked in response. “Maybe I can ask some follow-up questions? Later?”
Xiao Zhan winked at him. “Anytime, Detective. Anytime.”