"What's wrong?" Feng Ze had changed into loose lounge clothes and was sitting on the sofa, taking care of work.
He stole a moment to glance at Tao Zhiyan. "Sleepy?"
Tao Zhiyan rubbed his eyes.
He hadn't slept well last night, and his eyes ached, but he wasn't sleepy at all.
Feng Ze looked at him, then took a cushion, set it on his lap, and patted it.
The two of them seemed increasingly in sync, able to understand each other without a word.
Tao Zhiyan immediately put away his phone and rested his head on Feng Ze's lap.
He buried his face against the man's stomach and wrapped his arms around Feng Ze's waist.
The man chuckled, pinched Tao Zhiyan's earlobe, smoothed his hair, and finally began playing with his hand.
Feng Ze watched his computer screen while gently squeezing Tao Zhiyan's hand. Then, as though something had occurred to him, he let go and typed a line.
With the warmth over his hand gone, Tao Zhiyan felt a little out of sorts.
He looked up at Feng Ze.
Like a child trying to catch someone's attention, he wanted Feng Ze's attention far too badly.
Tao Zhiyan lowered his eyes and nuzzled him a few times. When that got no response, he lifted Feng Ze's shirt.
Feng Ze: "..."
He had intended to finish revising this page, but now he clearly couldn't concentrate.
Tao Zhiyan's hand roamed back and forth over Feng Ze's stomach.
"President Feng, how did you get these abs?" Tao Zhiyan asked as he touched them. "Teach me."
"Anaerobic exercise." Feng Ze moved the mouse, dragging a line of text.
"Even domineering CEOs have to exercise to stay in shape?" Tao Zhiyan laughed, his hand creeping higher.
Then he suddenly sat on Feng Ze's lap, lifted