Chapter 89: Control

*Bael’s POV*

Shen Rui’s message had been brief: *Young Master is waiting in the office.*

Bael had wrapped up the meeting faster than usual after that. Not obviously rushed, he doesn’t do obvious, but streamlined, efficient, cutting off unnecessary discussion and deferring minor points to follow-up emails.

The meeting had been scheduled for another fifteen minutes but there was no point dragging it out when the essential decisions were already made.

He stands the moment it’s done, gathering his materials with practiced speed.

Shen Rui is waiting outside the conference room with files that need his signature.

But part of his attention is already ahead. On the fact that Runze is waiting in his office.

Probably spiraling.

Probably second-guessing every design choice he submitted, working himself into unnecessary anxiety over work that was already strong.

Predictable.

Bael had seen it coming this morning, the tension, the obsessive reviewing, the inability to just accept that the work was done and move on.

That’s why he’d arranged for Runze to be brought here instead of going home. More efficient to handle the spiral in person than to deal with it remotely. More efficient to...

He reaches the office door first and opens it.

Steps inside.

And stops.

Runze is sitting in his chair, behind his desk, with his feet crossed and propped up on the desktop like he owns the entire office.

Eating strawberries from a plate, looking completely, utterly, absurdly comfortable.

Not spiraling, not anxious, not overthinking.

Just... relaxed.

The exact opposite of what Bael expected.

Shen Rui steps in behind him, sees the situation, and recovers quickly.

Professional as always, he moves to the desk to set down the files he’s carrying.

His expression stays perfectly neutral but Bael catches something in his eyes, like carefully suppressed acknowledgment of the situation’s absurdity.

He sets the files down, bows slightly to Runze without commenting on the fact that Runze is currently occupying his boss’s chair, then excuses himself and leaves, closing the door with a soft click.

Leaving Bael standing just inside the doorway, and Runze sitting in his chair with his feet on his desk.

They stare at each other.

Runze freezes mid-bite, strawberry halfway to his mouth, eyes widening slightly as he registers that he’s been caught.

Exactly as he should look.

Caught red-handed doing something he knows he shouldn’t be doing.

Bael moves to his cuffs without breaking eye contact.

Unbuckles them slowly, deliberately, one then the other, watching Runze’s reaction.

The way his eyes track the movement, the way he starts shifting like he’s suddenly aware this might not end well for him.

The way his legs come off the desk in slow motion, the way he stands up, the way he backs up slightly even though there’s nowhere to go.

Smart. At least Runze has some survival instincts.

"Enjoying yourself, are you not?" Bael asks, voice level. Controlled.

Runze is fully on his feet now, looking flustered.

Good.

"You must be very comfortable," Bael continues, starting to walk toward him.

Not rushing.

Just closing the distance at a measured, deliberate pace. Watching Runze back up until he runs out of space, until the desk is right behind him and Bael is right in front of him.

And then Runze moves.

Suddenly.

Unexpectedly.

Closes the distance Bael was maintaining in two quick steps, grabs the front of Bael’s shirt with both hands, and presses his forehead against Bael’s chest.

Bael stops.

Every thought in his head grinding to an abrupt halt at the unexpected contact.

"B... Bael," Runze’s voice is shaky, breathless. "I... I had to stand for a long time while submitting the designs. My legs were hurting and I... I didn’t put my feet on your desk on purpose, it was just so painful I didn’t even realize I’d done it and..."

The words register somewhere in the back of Bael’s mind.

Excuses.

Obviously false excuses because Runze’s legs are fine and he’s clearly just deflecting.

But Bael can’t quite process that properly right now, can’t focus on the content of what Runze is saying.

Too distracted by the way Runze is holding his shirt, by the warmth of him pressed close.

By the fact that Runze just voluntarily initiated contact in a way that has nothing to do with sex or obligation and everything to do with... what? Seeking comfort? Avoiding consequences?

Bael doesn’t know.

He doesn’t have a protocol for this, doesn’t have a strategy for handling Runze when he does unexpected things like grab onto him and hide his face against Bael’s chest.

"Bael," Runze says again, softer this time. Almost pleading.

Then he looks up.

And Bael’s brain stops working entirely.

Runze is looking at him with wide eyes, face flushed, lips slightly parted, expression caught somewhere between embarrassed and hopeful and something else Bael can’t identify but feels dangerous to examine.

...Cute.

The thought appears from nowhere.

Completely unbidden, completely inappropriate for the situation.

Wait.

Cute? Since when does Bael think in terms of...

Runze is leaning up. Rising onto his toes, getting closer. Face tilting upward, intent clear.

Bael realizes what’s about to happen half a second before it does and his body hasn’t decided how to respond when Runze’s lips touch his.

Soft, brief, tentative, barely a kiss at all.

Bael’s hand moves automatically, grabs Runze’s shoulder, pushes him back with controlled force until he hits the desk. Re-establishes boundaries that Runze just completely ignored.

"Li Runze!" The name comes out sharper than Bael intended.

Snapped like a command.

Because he’s suddenly angry. Not about the kiss, though that’s definitely something that needs to be addressed, but about everything else.

About the fact that Bael spent the past hour being moderately concerned, worrying, that Runze would be spiraling after the submission.

And Runze was here the entire time completely fine.

Better than fine.

Sitting in Bael’s chair with his feet on Bael’s desk eating Bael’s strawberries looking perfectly comfortable and relaxed and not anxious at all.

Not overthinking, not second-guessing, just enjoying himself like he has every right to make himself at home in Bael’s personal space.

And now he’s acting cute? Standing there looking flustered and apologetic and entirely too appealing for Bael’s peace of mind?

Worse, he’s licking his lips.

Right now.

Unconscious habit probably but it looks like deliberate seduction and Bael cannot look away.

Cannot stop tracking the movement of Runze’s tongue across his lower lip. Cannot stop thinking about things that are extremely inappropriate for the middle of a workday in an office with an unlocked door.

This is getting out of hand.

Runze is getting out of hand.

Growing wings, acting like he can do whatever he wants without consequences, crossing boundaries like they don’t exist.

And the problem, the real problem, is that Bael keeps letting him. Keeps adjusting his expectations, keeps giving in.

Even last time when Runze was being childish and difficult and making everything unnecessarily complicated with his sulking, Bael had ended up giving him exactly what he wanted.

Why? Why does nothing go according to plan when it comes to Runze?

What happened to simple, straightforward management of a practical arrangement? What happened to maintaining appropriate boundaries and professional distance?

What a fox.

Manipulative without even trying.

Getting under Bael’s skin without apparent effort.

Making him think about things he shouldn’t be thinking about, making him worry about things that aren’t his responsibility, making him rearrange his entire day around someone else’s schedule.

Bael closes his eyes, takes a breath. Attempts to regain some semblance of control over the situation that has gotten completely away from him.

Then he steps back, putting necessary distance between himself and Runze, and moves around the desk to his chair.

Sits down. Rubs his temples with both hands, trying to organize his thoughts, trying to figure out how this situation deteriorated so quickly, trying to...

A hand touches his shoulder. Warm. Gentle. Completely unexpected.

Bael opens his eyes.

Runze has moved around the desk without making a sound.

Is standing beside the chair now, close enough that Bael can feel his body heat.

Touching Bael’s shoulders with careful pressure.

Massaging them.

What is he doing?

"Are you angry?" Runze asks quietly.

Yes.

Obviously yes.

Though Bael is no longer entirely certain what he’s angry about or why the anger feels less intense than it did thirty seconds ago when Runze is touching him like this.

"I’m sorry," Runze whispers. And he’s leaning down now, getting closer, lips near Bael’s ear, breath warm against his skin, voice soft and apologetic and doing things to Bael’s nervous system that he doesn’t have time to analyze.

That’s it.

That’s the trigger, the final straw, the point where whatever control Bael was maintaining just... breaks.

His hand moves before he consciously decides. Reaches up, finds Runze’s neck, and pulls. Draws him down and around with enough force to make the intent clear until their lips meet properly this time.

Not a brief brush, not tentative.

A real kiss.

Deep and thorough and making a point about exactly what happens when Runze pushes boundaries and acts cute and whispers apologies directly into Bael’s ear.

Runze makes a small sound, surprise or satisfaction, Bael can’t tell which, and kisses back immediately.

Eagerly.

Like this is exactly what he wanted.

Like this was his goal all along.

Like he knew exactly what he was doing when he grabbed Bael’s shirt and looked up at him with those eyes and licked his lips and touched his shoulders.

Manipulative. Seductive. Effective.

Runze breaks away from where he was standing, doesn’t break the kiss, just repositions, moves with surprising agility until he’s straddling Bael’s lap, settling there like he belongs, like this is exactly where he intended to end up all along.

Kissing Bael thoroughly while sitting in his lap in the middle of the workday with the door unlocked and Shen Rui probably just outside in the hallway and anyone could walk in at any moment.

But Runze doesn’t seem to care. Just keeps kissing him like nothing else matters, hands sliding from Bael’s shoulders to his neck, fingers threading through his hair, body pressed close and warm and entirely too distracting.

Yeah.

A fox.