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Magnificent Douchenugget Extraordinaires

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“He wants me to invite him over to my place.” He said with a pained look, his coffee clutched in his hands like moss to a tree.

Min Seok gagged on his water. Joon Myun absently scratched his nose. “That’s nice,” the younger accountant said lightly, focusing on the design on the cafe table.

“He told you to invite him?” Min Seok croaked, appalled at the notion. “That defeats the purpose of an invitation!”

“He could be getting tired of randomly screwing on his office couch, you know.” Luhan chirped from beside Joon Myun as he refilled the absent-minded figure’s cup with hot chocolate. When he finished, he tapped his chin thoughtfully before turning to the man who looked like he wanted to crawl underneath the table and never come out. “He wants a stable relationship,” he began. “And he doesn’t want to take any more initiatives because, let’s face it, every time he does, you manage to give him a black eye.”

“You gave him one two weeks ago because he sent you flowers during your lunch break,” Joon Myun nodded, his eyes glistening with airy mirth.

“And last week you did it in front of Yixing who almost called Human Recources,” Luhan added “and, mind you, would have had I not convinced him that you were a kind and gentle soul and that punching people shorter than you was just your way of telling them how much you love them.”

“And only because he said your shirt looked nice with the food stain because he thought that it made you more domestic and cute,” Joon Myun acknowledged. Everyone looked at him like he was crazy. “What?” He asked, only half-innocent of their accusation. “I was there too. I just hid behind the desk because Yixing-sshi looks funny and scary at the same time when he’s angry,” he pouted, nuzzling his mug.

Min Seok’s headache came back full force. “Gentlemen,” he ground out. “That’s besides the point. He,” Min Seok pointed at the man looking morosely back at his cup, “he would have invited Mr. Huang when he felt it would be right to invite Mr. Huang. It is absolutely rude and uncouth to justtell someone that they should invite them over!” Min Seok declared, obviously passionate about the subject. “It’s uncalled for!”

“Chin up, Baozi,” Luhan chirped. “Tao-Tao just really needs confirmation that this relationship is going somewhere.”

“And messing up the office couch is really mean,” Joon Myun breathed, his focus now divided between the table and the hot chocolate.

“See?” Luhan gestured towards the others. “Everyone agrees with me.”

“I don’t agree with you!” Min Seok exclaimed.

“That’s because you’re married, so your argument is invalid,” Luhan laughed. Min Seok gaped like a dying fish.

“You’re kind of married too, hyung,” Joon Myun squeaked, taking a sip of his drink. Luhan gave him a dark look and Min Seok gave them a triumphant smile.

But then the clock chimed and their coffee break came to an end.

“God, please no. I can’t go back,” heaved the tallest of the four.

“But you have to,” Luhan shooed.

“We have jobs,” Joon Myun thought out loud.

“And wives,” Min Seok sobbed.

“And wives,” Luhan agreed.

The three men rose from their seats around the table and began filing out of the cafe and back to their building across the street.

“I don’t think Yixing-sshi would enjoy being referred to as the wife,” Joon Myun said softly.

“Shut your mouth,” snapped the older man with the dark rimmed glasses.

“My life is over,” the tallest said quietly, looking up to the ceiling as if the revelation had just dawned upon him.

“You should have controlled yourself when he first came on to you,” Luhan clucked.

“But he does have stalkerish tendencies, so he probably didn’t have a choice,” Min Seok told the cafe owner.

“Mr. Huang just wants you to carry his children,” Joon Myun soothed, patting the taller man’s shoulder.

No one said anything to combat the statement as Min Seok led the accountants out of the cafe as Luhan waved them off from behind.


Meng Wu Fan had many things in his life that he enjoyed immensely. His books, for one. Long hours at the basketball court in his apartment complex was a close second. Going to Luhan’s cafe was a delight. Spending quality time with his inner, zen-like state was, in general, a very blissful happening.

He just really, really liked to take things slowly. And nicely. And calmly. He liked his queen sized bed with the perfectly pressed sheets, folded comforter, and neatly arranged army of pillows. He also liked his carpet clean, his kitchen spotless, and his remote at arm’s length at all times.

And he really, really just liked being alone. He was happy that way. Sure, he had acquaintances like the lawyer he chatted with, and the cafe owner that served him coffee, and that younger accountant he had to mentor because he was mentally ill to a certain extent. He had people he could speak to, but no one he could connect to. But that was OK because Meng Wu Fan didn’tneed anyone to connect to. He was content with his brand of loneliness.

Sure, occasionally he’d feel pangs of unidentifiable emotions when he saw Kun Luhan saunter in with cases of hot coffee and donuts for the eighty employees of the building- all for free because he loved doting on his snarky significant other. Sure, occasionally he’d go over to Mi Lee’s school during his breaks and he and the woman would chat about the weather and about her students and how she’d like to have one of her own with the lawyer that worked three floors up and had an office next to the boss’s. Sure, even Joon Myun, the man who hardly spoke a word to the other accountants and took everything with an empty smile, had someone who occasionally dropped by with a leering smile and a tin filled with burnt bread and soggy noodles made with pure love.

But- their lives were filled with drama, and cake parties, and group dates, and lunches near the ocean. Wu Fan hated drama, and cake, and dates, and saltwater.

… well, not really the drama and the cake. He really liked dramas. Like My Girlfriend is a Gumiho. An excellent drama. He was watching Arang and the Magistrate currently. He liked dramas and he liked butter pecan cake. He liked it, yes, but he didn’t like the rest of the stuff the group did. He just wasn’t that type of guy.

He liked things at his own pace. Sometimes his pace was a snail’s pace, and sometime his pace went faster than a traveling bullet. But it was his pace, and he liked his pace and he moved to no other’s. His job didn’t count because he got paid to move at another’s pace, but when it came to his private life- he wasn’t willing to share or cater to anyone else’s feelings. He just wasn’t that type of guy.

Really. He wasn’t.


“Please,” he whispered into his ear.

Wu Fan gulped. “You don’t want to mess up your couch right now,” he pointed out evenly.

“I let you sock me in the stomach yesterday,” he whined. “In front of the intern, of all people.”

“You told me we were alone in the wateroom!”

“We were!” He shot back. “I still don’t know how the hell he managed to come in through a locked door!”

Wu Fan pushed the shorter man off and he went sprawling to the floor. “No.”

Huang Zi Tao glared at him from the floor for a full twelve seconds before he got up, fixed his tie, and left the room. Wu Fan scratched his head and rubbed his eyes with the soles of his palms. Outside, the evening traffic began to dull down, and Yixing and Luhan were probably already walking home right now, and Min Seok had picked up Mi Lee for a late night movie he was excited about earlier, and Joon Myun’s creepy friend who never stopped smiling had waved at him earlier when he came to pick up the younger accountant.

He left a few minutes later, closing the office door behind him as softly as possible.


“He hasn’t talked to me in over a week,” he grunted into his glass.

Joon Myun’s eyes widened comically. “But I just saw him talk to you this morning.”

Min Seok thwacked him gently on the back of his head. “He means as a partner. He hasn’t spoken to him like…” Min Seok coughed into his arm while Luhan fixed his glasses on his nose. “Uh… bedmates? Yeah. Yeah, that’s right. They haven’t talked like bedmates for over a week.”

Luhan tapped his chin and smiled lightly. “I was beginning to wonder why his eyes were returning to their normal state.” He giggled. “You haven’t punched him in so long!”

“Now his eyes can get their beauty rest,” Joon Myun breathed airly.

“I’d like my eyes to get some beauty rest,” Min Seok huffed.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, BEDMATES?” He all be screeched at the party of three in front of him.

The sudden outburst brought tears of mirth to Luhan’s eyes while Min Seok doubled over and snorted in his coffee. Joo Myun, however, became stiff and began to focus intensely on his index finger, which began furiously thumping away at the table until Luhan placed a hand over the shaking hand and gently squeezed.

Once Joon Myun was languid and back to blankly smiling at everything again, Min Seok released a breath of relief.

“Close call,” ground out the lawyer.

“Damn it, Fanfan, watch your tone,” scolded the cafe owner.

“Boss, I think he scared one of the older customers away,” called one of the baristas from behind the counter.

“I am not a fucking whore and none of you have any right to refer to me as such,” he seethed, eyes livid and burning.

“No one said you were,” Luhan deadpanned.

“And neither is Mr. Huang,” Min Seok added.

“But if you think that was a healthy relationship you two had going, then you best take take a reality check, Fanfan.” Luhan finished, ruffling Joon Myun’s hair and, in the process, bringing a real smile onto his chapped lips.

“What?” He croaked. “Why are you talking in past tense?” He demanded. “We’re still together!”

Min Seok had to stifle his laughter. “Since when were you two together?”

“lolwut, please.” Luhan cawed along, waving his hands dismissively. “You were friends with benefits, at most. He’s just being true to the rules of no-strings-attached by not firing you.”

“Human Resources would have a field day if he did,” Joon Myun pointed out.

“Preach,” Min Seok agreed.

“We’re just going through a rough patch,” he enunciated quickly, giving the three the nastiest bitchface he could muster. “We’ll be messing up his couch by the end of tomorrow, no doubt.”

“Girl, please,” Min Seok all but snapped. “He threw that couch into storage yesterday. Had me help him move it,” he grumbled afterwards.

“Wait, what?” Wu Fan’s eyes widened into saucers.

“Fanfan,” Luhan said gently. “Messing up a couch and having dinner and lunches in secluded corners of an office building-”

“And making out in the water room,” Joon Myun pointed out.

Luhan nodded. “And making out in the water room are not the same as being in a happy, healthy relationship. That’s just mental torture. And as far as we’re concerned, you two were at it for months. That’s, like, Japanese game show level torture.”

“Trust me,” Min Seok whispered. “When Yixing was trying to figure out his feelings for Luhan, he drove me up the wall. The suspense? The anticipation? When it gets to be too much, it starts to hurt.” He turned to Luhan and gave him a firm and manly handshake. “You did the world a tremendous favor when you took his virginity.”

Luhan curtsied. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.” He turned back to Wu Fan who sat gripping his coffee mug like his life depended on it. “See, Fanfan? Pent up feelings can either lead to a hyperactive Yixing with a shotgun in his drawer, or to an immediate, unresolved dissolution of a sex-only relationship like yours and Tao-Tao’s.”

“But he said that was fine!” He exclaimed exasperatedly. “He said wateroom make-out sessions were great! And that he didn’t mind lunch alone in his office! Or on the roof!”

“That’s because he thinks you’re kawaii, Wu Fan-sshi.” Min Seok shook his head morosely. “I admit, I still think it was pretty rude of him to tell you to invite him over, but really. It’s been months, Wu Fan-sshi.”

“You never go out on dates,” Luhan pointed out.

“And you always throw away his gifts in public.” Min Seok added.

“Those flowers were nice,” Joon Myun said with an content look on his face.

“And you never hold hands,” Luhan shook his head.

“And you only show up together in the same room if someone else is there.” Min Seok affirmed. “Like- no group dates. Ever. But you show up to faculty get-togethers and stay only half the time and then leave without even saying bye to him. And you almost never smile when he’s around.”

“As you can see,” Luhan gestured towards the other two men at the table. “We all firmly believe that all that’s been going on these past few months is a really clingy and persistent fuckbuddy war.”

Min Seook gagged. “Language, Luhan!”

“Sorry, baozi.” He cleared his throat. “What I mean to say is- all you two had was sex. There was no substance, Fanfan. Tao-Tao’s a good looking guy. And you’re a good looking guy. But looks aren’t the only things that matter anymore.”

“You need money too,” Min Seok threw in.

“And personality,” Joon Myun added.

“And those things too,” Luhan agreed. “Like, seriously. The fact that the sex was good enough to last this long- amen to you both. You’ll keep your future lovers quite happy, no doubt. But this?” Luhan shook his head. “This won’t work- at least, not anymore.”

“Maybe you should have invited him over,” Joon Myun breathed dazedly, looking out the clear glass window of the cafe.

The bell chimed and all the other salary men besides the accountants and lawyer rose, paid their tabs, and hurried back to their workplaces.

Min Seok rose and stretched. “Mi Lee wants to come by tonight. Says she wants that blue berry pie.”

“I’ll make it right away,” Luhan replied without missing a beat. “Bring your friend, Joon Myun.”

The accountant smiled lazily. “He went to see his mother.”

“Then Mi Lee will pick you up later,” Min Seok smiled. “We’ll make it a party.”

“Don’t forget my crispy Yixing,” Luhan pouted.

“Like he’d let me,” snorted the colorfully clothed lawyer. “Come on, Wu Fa- Wu Fan? Hey. Where the hell did he go? He has a report due in two hours!”

Joon Myun pointed at the window and the three men saw their tall friend angrily trudging back to the office building like the devil was trailing after him.


“Mr. Huang, sir,” Min Seok squeaked, batting his eyelashes.

“It’s Tao to you, Puffman.” Min Seok rolled his eyes. The younger man smirked. “How was the coffee?” He slouched against his leather chair and continued clicking away at his laptop.

“Amazing, sir, yes sir.”

Zi Tao scratched his head and stopped the typing momentarily. “Huh?”

“Party, sir. Luhan’s tonight.” He claimed, back straight.

“I’ll be there.” He answered, a tad bit confused.

“Any special accommodations, sir?” The shorter man inquired.

“No, but so help me god, if you call me sir one more time, I’m cutting your paycheck in half,” he threatened lazily from his computer.

“Uh… yes, Tao?”

The panda-eyed man smirked. “Better.”


“He won’t even pick up my call!” He roared, throwing the beanie stress bag at the wall.

Joon Myun absently scratched his head. “You usually text him, right?”

Wu Fan blinked. “Yeah, but I wanted to talk to him. Is that… wrong?” He asked sheepishly.

Joon Myun shook his head. “He’s probably busy. You know he doesn’t take regular breaks. He eats sporadically. The lunch noona told me so.”

Wu Fan rubbed his temples.


“What the hell?”

“I brought you dinner. Is there something wrong?” He grumbled.

“I have a party to attend,” his boss replied scathingly.

Wu Fan was stunned as he brushed past him without another word.


“… Yixing-ah.” Min Seok poked the credit analyst in the shoulder.


“Doesn’t the atmosphere feel a little damp?” He inquired, looking onto Wu Fan’s melancholic face and Zi Tao’s equally determined expression.

“Nope,” the taller man clucked. “Whatever made you think of that?”

The lawyer almost doubled over. “Never mind.”


“… would you like to eat with me tonight?” He asked.

“It’s late,” Tao deadpanned.

“… I was going to watch Arang.” He told him.

“You watch Arang?” The panda-eyed man looked like he just witnessed the biggest scandal of the century.

“Uh… yeah?”

“I’ll bring the beer,” the dark eyes man clipped.

“I have leftover lasagna,” he said, but Tao was already out of his sight and off to whatever store to get his beer. It took him twelve seconds to text him the address to his apartment number before he rushed along as well.


They sat on opposite ends of the couch.

“I thought he was a werewolf at first. Sheesh.” The CEO took a long swig of his beer. His dirty plate was already in the sink and washed.

“I don’t see why the gods couldn’t figure out earlier that it was a soul eater. Pathetic,” he scoffed. He’d done the washing and cleaning before he turned on the television with the pre-recorded episodes.

“Idiot gods.” Tao shook his head dismissively.

“Idiots in general,” Wu Fan agreed.


“So… you didn’t have sex?”

“Nope,” he chirped and took a long sip from his juice.

“By god.”

“Sweet Jesus lord have mercy.”

“What is air and where are the tanks that provide it?”

Wu Fan grunted but smiled into his cup.


“It’s a play,” Tao said finally. “Actually, a Japanese kabuki show. The troupe’s only here for the week. I got tickets to their last show.”

Wu Fan wriggled in his seat, but a gentle hand to his shoulder immediately brought about an air of calm.

“We don’t have to go,” Tao explained. “I have a DVD waiting at my place. Let’s go watch that instead.”

But all they’ve been doing the past two weeks is alternating between each others living spaces, watching good television, having leftovers, and drinking tasteless but addictive beer.

“No,” Wu Fan ground out. “Play. Kabuki. Got it. Just… give me an hour to dress myself tonight. No. Make that two.”

Tao was stunned. “… OK?”

And he was gone in a snap.


“So it’s tonight?” Min Seok squeaked. “You’re going tonight?”

“Tonight,” Wu Fan nodded.

On the side, Yixing looked at the two with the most distasteful expression he could manage.

“Are you ready?” Min Seok asked worriedly. “I mean, are you?

Wu Fan shook his head and croaked. “No.”

“God, you are pathetic,” Yixing snapped and stomped off.

“He’s right,” Wu Fan sighed.

“No, no, Luhan’s just refusing to give him any because he’s been super bitchy lately,” he assured.

“We…” Wu Fan began tentatively. “We haven’t done it since… since our fight in the office.”

Min Seok chocked on air. “Say what now?”

Wu Fan rubbed his temples. “We got busy with drama talk, and music, and some orphanage in Thailand, and he was telling me about his dojos and I just blurted out about my parent’s early divorce.” He pressed his temples. “He falls asleep on my couch when he’s over. He gave me one of his guest rooms in his penthouse. I mean, not even once. Not even close to it. It’s just that we just talk… a lot. And we eat and I have to clean up before I start the television, and he helps wipe down all the dust and he talks politely and gives me tips on how to clean better so I don’t have to clean as often. And then we watch stuff. And discuss, like fanboys sometimes, it’s so detailed and exciting. And then we get tired. Then we knock out.”

Min Seok gaped in shock. “Oh my god.”

“What?” Wu Fan asked worriedly. “What is it? Are we breaking up again? Do you think he’s taking me out to break it off with me?” When Min Seok didn’t answer, Wu Fan clenched his fists. “God damn it.”

“No!” The attorney huffed eventually. “No, none of that. It’s just that… Oh. My. God.” Min Seok looked at him in awe. “Oh my god.”

Wu Fan never cried. He snapped. “Jesus, Kim Min Seok, what?”

After a minute, the arrotney smirked. “What, you ask?”

“Yes, yes, what!?” He repeated angrily.

“Oh, nothing,” Min Seok whistled.

Wu Fan gawked. “N-nothing? What do you mean nothing? It has to be something!”

“Oh, nothing.” Min Seok checked his fingernails. “Just that you two are in a relationship now. A real relationship.”

Wu Fan’s heart practically stopped. “Oh my god. The play. It’s a-”

“-date,” Min Seok finished for him. “Not the, oh-we-just-met ice cream date. No, this is the here-society-look-at-my-future-husband date.” Min Seok shook his head morosely and gave Wu Fan a chuckle and a pat on the knuckles. “Send me a card for the wedding. Make sure you pay extra attention to the font.”

And with that, the man whistled off to his work.


“They’re dating.”

“No, they’re not.”

“Yeah, they are.”

“Who said?”

“The cute head of the legal team did. The lunch noona heard him say so.”

“Oh my god no. I thought Mr. Huang was bi.”

“Even if he is, it doesn’t matter now. Stupid, giant, bitchface accountant got him first.”

The two marketing mistresses sipped on their coffees and wailed about their losses well into the afternoon.


“The entire building knows,” Wu Fan admitted, entirely too amazed for his own good.

“Yixing says you won’t last the month,” Luhan chirped.

“I hate your boyfriend,” Wu Fan deadpanned.

“Hey! That’s my brother you’re talking about!” Min Seok yelled.

“He’s your soul brother, not your real brother,” Luhan corrected.

Min Seok gaped like a fish. “Wait till I tell Yixing about what you just said,” he threatened dangerously.

“Pfft,” Luhan waved his hand. “He’s still not getting laid until he gets his act straight.”

“I hope you have a wonderful time,” Joon Myun said warmly. “You two deserve it.”

Wu Fan couldn’t stay mad and confused forever. “Thanks.”


“They were staring at me,” Wu Fan grunted, inching away from the clingy overlord.

“Please,” Tao giggled. “She was jealous. So was her daughter.”

Wu fan rose an eyebrow. “Of what?”

“Of me,” he whispered, and placed a soft kiss on his lips before lying down next to him.

Wu Fan laid silently and watched the aftershadows of the car lights as they rolled by and left the remnants on his ceiling. He heard shouts of protest, of children screaming, of people being angry and busy and generally productive at eleven o’clock at night when it was way past everyone’s bed time. Tao nuzzled his neck, and from where he lay, he could smell the faint wisps of cologne and the smell of the theatre permeating from his being. It was a nice smell- a warm and inviting smell.

Tao groaned. “Lend me some of your Pjs,” he whined. “Forgot mine. Gonna go crash on your couch, m’kay?” He pecked his cheek and hoisted himself off the neatly made bed.

But Wu Fan caught his arm. “Stay.”

Tao looked at him quizzically for a minute before opening his mouth. “You mean-”

“Yes,” Wu Fan snapped unintentionally. “… that… that which we haven’t done… in a while.”

Tao took a tentative seat on the bed and Wu Fan hauled himself up to meet his eyes. “Do you… want to?” He asked. “We can wait,” he assured. “Definitely. Another date? Let’s go to Tokyo with the others instead. That would be nice, right?”

“No, no,” he grumbled. Something stirred in his stomach. “I just…” He inched close enough that the tips of their noses brushed against each other. “I just wanted to apologize,” he croaked. “For before.”

Now Tao was truly puzzled. “About what?”

Wu Fan ground his teeth. “Damn it, it sounded so much better in front of the mirror,” he muttered exasperatedly.

“Mirror? What mirror?” Tao cupped his long face in his warm hands and thumbed over his cheeks. “Talk to me, Wu Fan. Please?”

“I…” Wu Fan didn’t cry. He snapped. But instead of snapping, he took a deep breath and just spoke. “I’m sorry. For not accepting your offers to dates before the fight. For throwing your flowers and food away. I…” He chewed his bottom lip and looked away. “I’m sorry for being an asshole.”

Tao removed his hands from his face and they sat silently for a few minutes. Wu Fan heard another shout outside and a car honked in the distance. It really was too late for this kind of commotion.

“I was never mad at you,” he heard the younger man say. Wu Fan blinked. Tao took his hands in his own. “I was never mad at you,” he repeated. “I was mad at myself for thinking you would just… take my clinginess as it came, and that you’d want to jeopardize your career just to be with me. I… I was being selfish. I should have never came on to you the way I did.” He took a deep breath. “I deserved those punches. You’ve got strong knuckles,” he laughed lightly, eyes glowing merrily in the dim light.

Wu Fan stared. “I’m still sorry,” he deadpanned.

“Well,” Tao chewed his inner cheek. “I’m sorry too.” He smiled again. “See? Now we’re both sorry, so that cancels out the depressing part, so let’s just hit the hay, OK?” He felt soft lips peck the bridge of his nose. “Let’s talk tomorrow. I know you’re tired.”

Wu Fan was tired. Really tired. But not tired enough.

Outside, he heard a song begin to play. The late night hoodlums had exited their hovels and come out on the street to break dance away into the night.

“No,” he whispered knowingly, taking one of the younger man’s arms and leading it around his waist. “I’m not.”

And he kissed him, full on the lips, eyes closed and breath taken away.

And together, they fell back.


They didn’t undress quickly, or hotly, or mutter obscenities at each other for being too slow or too fast or too sexy.

No. This time it was quieter, and Tao had shut the window to keep the noise out and the air conditioning was lessened to room temperature so they didn’t freeze after they finished. No. There wasn’t biting, or tearing, or telling each other to be quiet because there was no one else in the apartment and the door to his bedroom was firmly locked and the lights were off and only the beams from outside could illuminate their skin, their sweat, and their lips.

Wu Fan’s legs were big and muscled and completely too pale for their own good, but Tao allowed his fingers to press gently against the heated skin before cupping his erection and stroking the member, thumbing the tip of the swollen gland. Back slightly arched and the space between his legs widening, Wu Fan didn’t complain when he felt a warm mouth enclose over his sex. He closed his eyes and wrapped his legs around the tanned, muscled shoulders of the younger man as he deftly moved up and down on his length, humming a tune he familiarized himself with from the play.

No, there wasn’t any hair pulling, or slamming each other against the rich polyster of the couch, or getting in awkward positions because the thing was two small for two six feet tall professionals with too much pent up sexual frustration.

Instead, Tao buried his head in between his thighs and nuzzled the sweat slicked skin and firmly allowed the thighs to press tightly around his shoulder without hurting his bobbing head. When Wu Fan climaxed, he swallowed every last bit before traveling up the length of his stomach and chest and lips before finally reaching his forehead and whispering a desperate I love you.

He let his arms wrap around broad, heavily muscled skin that stayed hidden underneath dress shirts, and beckoned him closer. Close enough that Wu Fan kissed, and kissed, and let his tongue and teeth gnash against sweetness and warmth and kindness until his length began to quiver and rise once more. Fingers slick with sweat massaged the muscle on his bottom, and he spread his long and burly legs as far as he could without crying out in pain. His distress was noted almost instantly, and the man above let go of his lips and began pressing against his neck as a strong hand lifted his waist off the bed and down on to the awaiting fingers.

No. There was no quick scissoring, and heavy panting, and obtuse yelling about how slow one was or how quickly one was going or how fat one’s legs were and how in-the-way another’s chest was. Wu Fan arched into the sudden intrusion and moaned contently as it was the first time in a long time that he’d done this on a proper bed, and the very first time with Tao. Tao, who was carefully and methodically wringing his digits inside Wu Fan, preparing him as best as he could. Tao, whose ministrations became stronger and faster and Wu Fan’s back arched even higher and he breathed his name like a ghost would in the dead of night.

When he felt himself being filled, he groaned, his walls clenching tightly around the thick organ. Leveled thrusts took him for almost a minute before he gripped his lover’s waist tightly and urged and breathed please faster please. Slow, loving thrusts that caused languid pleasure soon turned into heavy ruts and Wu Fan arching his back and screaming Zi Tao. He felt himself being lifted off the safety of his soft bed in the middle and onto the safer embrace of his lover as the man guided him roughly onto his swollen sex, latching onto his neck and grunting in his ear. Wu Fan moved with the pace as best as he could, his legs wrapped tightly around a toned waist with hands tangled in dark raven locks. Fingers gripped his own waist and brought it down relentlessly onto the erect member as he cried and gasped for more and more and more until he felt a shaky hand wrap around his length like earlier in the night, and caused him to scream again.

When he climaxed for the second time in the night, he felt himself get gently pushed down while the thrusts continued and his walls clenched tighter and tighter against the ruts. When Tao came inside him, he groaned because for once in his life, he felt complete and truly fulfilled and he wasn’t dirty and smelly and sticky like he was back on the office couch and bent over the handle. He was sated, and sweaty and Tao nuzzled his neck before licking away Wu Fan’s mess but leaving his own deep inside him. He massaged his bruising waist as Wu Fan felt the product of their lovemaking run smoothly down the inside of his thighs and soak into the bed beneath.

Wu Fan lay silently staring at the ceiling as the lights of the passing cars creating a myriad of aftershadow effects and Tao kissed him on his cheek and soothed his hurting waist and whispered apologies again and again until he heard a fleeting I love you once more.

“I love you too.” He blinked at the ceiling and Tao froze. Wu Fan would always lay frozen. Everything was said and done- his pillows strewn across the floor and his sheets crumpled and his bed wet from their sweat and Tao’s cum that still ran thickly down the inside of his thighs.

“I guess we’ll have to get married then,” the younger man chuckled lazily. “My mother would kill me if she found out I was having sex with people without promising eternal devotion to them.”

“I don’t want eternal devotion,” Wu Fan admitted. “I just want…”

Wu Fan didn’t know what he wanted. What he had was what he needed- so why want more?

“I want you,” Tao deadpanned, and that felt nice to hear, Wu Fan silently admitted. “I want you; you want me. That’s all that matters.” He grumbled and Wu Fan didn’t say another word as he turned to his side and placed his head on Tao’s warm chest. His eyes slipped close, and he dreamed of him.


“So it’s official?” Min Seok questioned.

“Did he give you a ring?” Joon Myun asked hopefully.

“Was he good?” Luhan rose an eyebrow.

Wu Fan grunted. “No rings, but I gave him a key to my place. He gave me a set.”

“A set?” Min Seok gawked. “What, the entire building?”

“Just the penthouse here and the guesthouse in Shanghai,” he smirked.

Joon Myun looked on in awe. “A happy ending, hyung. That’s wonderful.” He smiled and gave his knuckles a pat. Wu Fan did not blush. He grunted. But Joon Myun was a nice kid and he was sick but brilliant and worked hard. So Wu Fan gave him a smile instead and nodded.

“Well, Bazoi, you might as well cut ties with Mi Lee-sshi and let us find you a boyfriend, because this arrangement is definitely not going to work,” Luhan drawled morosely, filling his cup to the brim with cold water.

Min Seok blinked his signature blink and even Joon Myun started laughing and Wu Fan was already stifling a laugh into his hand. “What?”

“Gay, hyung,” Joon Myun pointed out. “Everyone here likes men but you.” He noted.

Min Seok gawked. “What? Now I can’t hang out with you guys because I haven’t shacked up with a dude? That’s! … Uh… that’s racist!”

“Eloquent, Mr. Kim,” Luhan observed. “Very eloquent for a corporate attorney.”

“I hate you,” Min Seok deadpanned. “And I told Yixing about what you said,” he tattled.

“But everyone knows you’re not brothers,” Joon Myun whispered. “You two don’t even look alike.”

“Forget that you were born in entirely two different countries to entirely two different parents.” Luhan agreed.

“Soul brothers,” Wu Fan helped the gaping attorney. “They’re soul brothers, and that’s OK.” Wu Fan glared at Luhan. “Your boyfriend would have left you within the year had Min Seok-ah stayed behind in Seoul. You know that, right?”

Luhan scoffed. “Nope. I wouldn’t have let him.”

“He’d have followed him there,” Joon Myun chirped airily. “One of his restaurants is in the heart of Seoul.”

“Staaaaalker~” finished Min Seok, and he toasted mugs with Wu Fan and Joon Myun as the hipster-frames wearing cafe owner huffed and puffed on the side.

The bell rang and the salarymen began to rise.

“Tomorrow? Same time?” Min Seok called.

“Duh,” Wu Fan grumbled, and the three left as the Luhan customarily waved at them from behind.


“Look at them holding hands. PDA, hyung. Too much PDA,” Yixing breathed scathingly.

Min Seok rolled his eyes. “Better than watching you eat Luhan’s face in the kitchen every time I come over with chicken and beer.”

“I don’t eat- I kiss,” he insisted.

“No,” Min Seok assured. “You eat.”


Tao checked his watch again. “That guy’s been here for over three hours now,” Tao observed suspiciously.

Wu Fan rose an eyebrow. “We’re here for the better part of the day. It’s Luhan’s cafe. He dotes on us. We dote back. He dotes on his customers, so of course a couple of others are going to dote back.”

“But I’ve never seen this guy before,” the younger man begrudged, and Wu Fan looked around to see who he was talking about.

A slim, average-height man sat silently at the corner of the table, all the way at the end, with nothing but a cup of coffee in his hand. A waitress came around and asked if he needed anything, and all he did was slip dollars worth another cup of coffee, and maybe a slice of cheesecake. Even Wu Fan was a bit surprised.

“Maybe he has a crush on Luhan,” Tao gasped.

Wu Fan snorted. “Everyone in the district knows Luhan is Yixing’s and that Yixing’s half mad. He wouldn’t dare.”

“You never know,” Tao shook his head morosely.

A while later, the sun dipped and it was time to go home.

“Where’d the others go, anyway?” Tao asked.

“Mi Lee and Min Seok went to the beach. Yixing had to do something for his grandmother.”

“Ah.” Tao clucked his tongue.

When the clock struck nine, the two men waved Luhan goodbye and left. The slim man with the neutral face and the ever full wallet still sat quietly at the end of the counter table, and Wu Fan took just one more look at him to decipher who exactly the hell he was and why he looked so damn familiar.

When it hit him, he couldn’t say anything. He melted into Tao’s touch and pushed the thought back from in his head as they tumbled onto the floor of his apartment and made love throughout the night.