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Watching Yao at work is almost boring, that’s the conclusion Jin Feiran came to after using him for a few weeks. Yao executed his orders cleanly, true to his words, and swift. Especially for combat, Yao shines the brightest when he has to lunge at five and more goons in one go. Not even the presence of a gun made him flinch, knives and other weapons were always knocked away so easily by his hand. Just like how he swatted away his knife on that rainy day.
It was almost boring, because no matter how Feiran knew where the fight was going, he couldn’t take his eyes off Yao. Oftentimes, he found himself wanting for more goons to jump on him, or someone hiding behind the tables suddenly sprang up from their hiding to fire a shot at him, this twisted desire to see his bodyguard in trouble sometimes influenced his orders; posing as ‘tests’, Feiran had ordered Yao to take out ten guys without his hands, only with his legs. The other day he smirked and ordered Yao to be done in exactly 50 seconds. It was just three people, sure they were trained in combat more than usual goons, but for his bodyguard—it shouldn’t be a problem, no? Yao actually finished in 49 seconds, but Feiran was in no mood to acknowledge it and only graded it as decent.
Was it efficient? No. But it was mostly an errand bestowed to him, and errands were never not annoying to begin with. Testing his bodyguard is his attempt to make it just a little bit more tolerable.
So, now … what should he do to test his strong and obedient bodyguard? The weight of the handgun is always there to remind him of his presence, he had tried to test Yao like this—the last time, he didn’t actually go through with it. The crap his bodyguard was spewing already dampened his mood before he could pull the trigger. Feiran weighed his options, his red gaze followed the figure of his bodyguard, hard at work, pushing and shoving some worthless mob to the ground or the wall. His work is ending, there’s still some guys left, but Yao is still focused on the fight.
Feiran let out a low whistle, not loud enough to be heard by anyone but himself. Reaching for his handgun, Feiran doesn’t need extra time to aim it at his bodyguard, Yao. As one mob stood all alone, the last to be crushed, Feiran pulled the trigger. It was not the heart that he aimed for, but it was his head.
The shot slices through the wind, breaking away other noises that surround them all. It fired without any warning, and Yao whipped his head towards him, his snake-like eyes identified the incoming threat in a split second; where it was coming, and who fired it. Was it really a threat when it was coming from his master? This question almost reached an answer he could like as Feiran saw his bodyguard’s eyes widened, but it shrank back after he realized it was coming from him. In the end, Yao dodged the bullet—a little bit, for its trajectory actually grazed his cheek before it lodged on the head of the poor random mob’s forehead.
The hum that escaped Feiran’s lips was half amused and half irritated. At least it was enough to make it almost not boring. Returning his handgun to where it belongs, Feiran didn’t say anything when Yao walked back to him, dragging the lifeless body with him. “Master,” the body was dropped in front of him like an offering, or something to be graded for. “This is the last of them.”
A click of his tongue, “Do you think I could not see with my eyes?” Feiran only gave the corpse a glance, he cared not for these goons. “You’re taking too much time this time. It was dragging on.”
Yao was silent for a beat, “... Did I fail your test this time, Feiran-sama?”
This got him smirking. Even Yao can be a little cute sometimes. “No,” despite the high standards he has for him, Feiran knew when he should acknowledge his bodyguard’s skills. “Your reflexes were decent enough, you passed in making this almost not boring.” Yao gave him a simple grunt, he could hear a resemblance of satisfaction in that noise.
“I suppose I could give you a little treat, yes?” Tilting his head to the side, his smirk is getting wider, “You’ve been working hard this past week. It is only fair of me to give you a reward for your hard work.” Feiran stepped forward, head tipped up towards his bodyguard; “Go on, indulge in your sick desires for beautiful things.”
Yao once again was silent. His eyes stared down at him with an intensity that crawled up on Feiran’s spine. He ignores the tickling feeling, the little twist in his gut. Feiran could see the way Yao’s adam apple moved inside his throat, and the slight quiver in his eyes. They stood in front of each other in closeness that allowed Feiran to smell the perfume he picked for him, a faint scent of vanilla with a whiff of tobacco; certainly it clung on him because of all the smoke he burned near him.
Yao was not still. He brought his hands together, his fingers toying at the hem of his glove. “Feiran-sama. May I indulge in touching your face for a brief second?” Feiran immediately gave him a snort, this charade Yao put up is both amusing and annoying. It’s no doubt to him that this monster doesn’t actually care about overstepping his boundaries, but he still asks, because of the role Feiran established at their first meeting. If he didn’t claim himself as his master, Feiran knew very well Yao wouldn’t care much about it. His request for permission means nothing, there’s no weight in it, and at best it is just wasting both of their time.
“Do you have a hobby of wasting my time?” He snapped at Yao instead, “I said what I said. Get on with it!”
“Thank you very much, Feiran-sama.” He closed eyes as he nodded. With his hands ungloved, Yao brought his hands to Feiran’s face. His rough hands, bigger than his own, hovered around the sides of his face. There was no warmth radiating from his palm, his hands were cold as so did his fingertips. It brushed against his jaw in feather touch, testing the waters before Yao’s rough hands took his face. He held him with his hands like cradling a fine porcelain, his eyes never strayed anywhere. Nailed on him, on his face, on the beautiful thing he liked. Feiran set his gaze somewhere far. He doesn’t need to return his gaze.
Now his face is truly cupped by his bodyguard’s hands. Yao’s thumb pressed gently against his cheek, skin to skin, without the intervention of another fabric. It’s beyond irritating that Feiran ended up gazing back at Yao, there’s hardly anything beyond them, for Yao stood in his line of vision and filled it up with only himself. Though Feiran wanted to rob Yao’s simple delight after just seconds giving him one, he resisted the urge. Monsters needed their enrichment, subordinates needed praise to perform well. It was something he learned by watching his old man manage his forces. So Feiran stayed still, sparing no effort to hide his irritation from showing. Yao wouldn’t care, anyway.
Silence dragged on. The only thing that wasn’t still was Yao. Ever so slightly, he leaned closer and closer to his master, his thumb pressing even harder to his flesh. The shade of his glasses dulled Yao’s gaze, but Feiran is already acquainted with that look—one that watches over its prey, a snake that has no hesitation to bite. “Feiran-sama…” as his mouth shaped Feiran’s name, his fangs peeked out of its hiding. He called for his master, but his gaze was not on him. “Your eyeshadow is a different shade of color today.”
Feiran didn’t answer him. “It is deeper than you usually wore,” Yao’s thumb traced along his cheek bones, it wasn’t touch that was done absentmindedly; there is intent in every stroke he did. What intent was it, it was beyond Feiran to know. “Where the ones you usually wore amplified your eyes to be even bolder, this shade brought a sense of quiet doom… but still. So beautiful.”
Feiran found it in him to shoot his bodyguard with his gun again. Yet it feels like he has been locked in place with a strange expression in his bodyguard’s face. There was a simple smile along the lines of Yao’s lips. He’s smiling. To himself. Towards his own sick enjoyment.
“What a creep.” Somehow it was hard to spit out the words, but Feiran did it anyway. “Enough. You have overstayed your welcome. I told you to merely walk, and you heard it as to run head on?” Feiran broke free of Yao’s clutch easily enough, he then sighed a harsh one. “We have a long way to go. How annoying.”
Yao stepped away, murmuring a half hearted apology that doesn’t mean anything. The gloves returned to wrap around his hands once more. In exchange for a bodyguard that was significantly less useless than the ones he surrounded himself with before, he must put up with his strange desires. He wondered if it’s more of a gain or a loss. Not wanting to think about it, he pulled out the last cigarette in his pack.
“Tsk. Yao. Light. Then go and buy another pack.”
“Yes, master.”
“Make it in less than five minutes or I’m leaving you here. Quick.”
“As you wish, Feiran-sama. It will be done in three minutes.” []