Leaned against the arm of the sofa, Jingyu’s eyes are fixed on Zhouzhou.
Said man is fiddling with his bowtie, frowning in concentration and eyes intense as though his gaze on the full length mirror can fix his bowtie out of sheer will.
Jingyu runs his eyes from Zhouzhou’s ankles all the way up to the tips of his hair. He assesses the cut of the suit, contemplates how it moulds itself to Zhouzhou’s body while still maintaining some room for breathing. Tight enough to show what needs to be shown, loose enough to be tasteful. And his heart swells with pride at how his choice perfectly embrace Zhouzhou’s figure.
He had his manager order this one for Zhouzhou, had known first hand how it would be perfect for him. It wasn’t easy — Boateng’s suits have always been hard to come by. But Jingyu knows he can’t let another day pass without seeing what is currently in front of him. He remembers how he had to nag their stylist for Zhouzhou’s measurements, always asking for updates because he needed this to be perfect.
Zhouzhou on the daily has always been perfection, but this. This is akin to putting icing on a cake.
“How do you like it?” he asks, voice low.
His hotel room is dark, illuminated merely by the two bedside lamps, and the spotlight Zhouzhou is standing under. He already gave his manager the clear instruction to leave them be, because after slaving his days away on set, after tolerating waves after waves of people, he deserves this.
They both deserve this.
“It’s gorgeous.” Zhouzhou replies, stroking his palms against his torso. “I like how it fits, and the material is comfortable.”
Their eyes meet in the mirror, four dark orbs locked in a staring match.
“What do you think, Mr. Huang?” Zhouzhou raises an eyebrow, a shit eating grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
Jingyu moves slowly, counting his steps before he settles behind Zhouzhou. He raises his gaze, shoots Zhouzhou a smirk laden with meaning. Bending, he leaves a string of kisses on Zhouzhou’s nape, runs his hands down from the curve of Zhouzhou’s back to his ass. Jingyu smiles when he feels Zhouzhou’s shiver, when his breathing becomes a bit heavier.
“What do I think?” his eyes meet Zhouzhou’s again. “I think it’s perfect, Mr. Xu.” he says, before sucking on Zhouzhou’s earlobe. He lays his hands on narrow hips. “Then again, my choices always are.”
He doesn't need to see Zhouzhou’s eye roll to know that he's doing it. When faced with Jingyu’s arrogance, that’s practically his reflex. So Jingyu keeps his attention occupied on Zhouzhou’s neck. Zhouzhou has his head tilted to make space for him, giving a little moan when Jingyu starts licking and sucking softly. Like a little kitten gently nursing on their mum’s milk, Jingyu takes his time, occasionally looking down at his handiwork.
Zhouzhou pulls at his hair. “Don’t leave marks. Li Hao was pissed the last time.” he warns.
Jingyu wraps his arms around Zhouzhou’s waist, feeling the man settle against him. He lets out a breath, relief flooding his chest at how right this feels. He tightens his hold, because fuck. He actually misses this. Misses how they perfectly fit, how their bodies instinctively melt together.
It’s been a while since their last meeting. Shooting in Baotou has made sneaking around ten times harder than usual. With his battalion of fans always posted at the lobby, things have gotten a lot more complicated. It took meticulous planning to get Zhouzhou where he currently is.
Rightfully in his arms.
“Well, too late now.” he chuckles, seeing red spots beginning to unfurl like little blossoming flowers. His work is top notch, if he might say so himself. Perfectly aligned as though they are constellations spread on a pale sky.
The eye roll again.
“Shit, I’m gonna get it. Last time, makeup could barely cover it up.”
“Tell Li Hao to cool it. He’s gonna bust a nerve one of these days.”
“Yea, thanks to you.”
“Hey, a man gotta do what a man gotta do.”
“Whatever,” Zhouzhou pulls at his hair again, mouth seeking his. He kisses dirty — without any hesitation or nonsense, tongue seeking straight for a taste. Jingyu groans, giving back as good as he takes. Sucking Zhouzhou’s tongue into his mouth before returning the favour, his hand moving to the front of Zhouzhou’s pants.
“Fuck,” Zhouzhou whispers, breathing against his lips and grinding his dick into Jingyu’s hand. Jingyu can feel the shiver that runs through Zhouzhou’s body — as though they were conductors, the electric feel sweeps from Zhouzhou to Jingyu.
Zhouzhou turns his head to look into the mirror, and Jingyu follows suit.
Jingyu watches the way those hips undulate against his hand, feels how Zhouzhou’s dick gets heavier in his grasp.
“Bao bei ah, you look hot.” Jingyu growls against his ear, letting out a groan when Zhouzhou grasps his hair in response. The little imp also has the audacity to grind against Jingyu’s rapidly swelling cock.
“Don’t fucking call me that.” But his hips fail to cease its movement, still chasing the hardness without any remorse. Jingyu pushes those sinful hips closer, shoving his dick in between two plump cheeks. With the barrier of clothing between them, it is a poor mimicry of what he truly desires.
To fuck this man into his bed.
“Can’t help it, baby.” he taunts, watching the pair of straight brows he knows too well knit. “I’ve been reading that book.”
A chuckle escapes Zhouzhou. “Figures. It took you almost a year to finally pick up that book and actually fucking read it.”
“Didn’t have the time before.”
“If you were to tell me that those two had racy scenes in the book, I would’ve picked it up sooner.” Jingyu argues. Reasonably well, he thinks.
“God you’re such a perv.” says the hypocrite as he continues to grind against Jingyu’s crotch. From the feel of it, he's fully hard now. By now, Jingyu knows well enough what that glassy eyed look means — Zhouzhou is horny and looking for a quick relief.
And Jingyu? Jingyu can be an asshole sometimes. This morning, Zhouzhou paraded around his hotel clad only in a bathrobe, looking delectable enough to eat. But whenever Jingyu tries to make advances, he would reject his touch and claim fatigue or some other shitty excuse. It took him three hours to figure out that Zhouzhou was playing him — a smirk to Zhouzhou’s lips at the sight of Jingyu’s bulge told him how much Zhouzhou enjoyed being a tease.
A little payback is justified.
“There was this one scene,” Jingyu continues, still gently palming Zhouzhou’s cock. “where I heave you up and fuck you against the wall,” he makes sure that Zhouzhou can feel his dick, presses himself closer in between Zhouzhou’s ass. “And you were just begging for it, Yin Zi ah.” he feels Zhouzhou stagger a bit, hears his muted whine. “You were moaning for it, got you coming so hard and so much you were…”
He stops when Zhouzhou reaches for his nape, desperately pushing himself back in a silent question. Jingyu lets him, lets him writhe as he looks on from the mirror.
“Gu Hai…” a small voice begs, and shit. Shit.
They’re doing this. They’re actually doing this.
At the corner of his mind he can feel it coming, the raw possessiveness that he heavily associated with Gu Hai. Him and Gu Hai, they're not that different. They both can become irrational when emotions get the best of them, it’s just that Jingyu has the privilege of being able to control his better.
But now that he’s here, he let loose. Let that irrational possessive lover come out for a play.
He takes ahold of Bai Luoyin’s body, so lithe and compliant to his touch. A touch that is no longer cajolingly firm, but harsh and demanding — as Gu Hai would when taming Bai Luoyin. He pushes a knee in between Bai Luoyin’s legs, denying him access to his dick while giving enough pressure to tease.
Now that he’s read the book, he knows how much of a slut Bai Luoyin could be. How Gu Hai has conditioned him well enough that he’s weak for a fuck with Gu Hai.
“What do you want, bao bei?” he presses at Bai Luoyin’s protesting whine. “Come on, don’t be shy to tell your husband.”
He can see the flush raising up Bai Luoyin’s face. The usual anger that clouds his face when his pride is challenged becomes obvious.
But Jingyu doesn’t surrender.
Gu Hai wouldn’t.
He just continues looking in the mirror, watching patiently as Bai Luoyin gently rides his thigh in desperation.
The sight of him is almost indecent. With the suit neatly cut and carefully pressed to perfection, the resulting creases and bumps from Bai Luoyin’s swollen dick is made apparent.
A mess. Bai Luoyin is looking like a desperate, wanton mess.
“Want to touch,” Bai Luoyin grits out, teeth clenched and eyes shut.
“What is that? I can’t hear you.”
Bai Luoyin’s frustration is palpable.
“Want to touch you.” he begs, looking straight into Jingyu’s eyes in the mirror.
“Of course you can,” Jingyu rewards him with another grip to his dick. “But I spent so much time getting this suit for you. Would be a shame if it gets dirty.” he reasons, his voice gentle but firm. “Come on, take it off for me.”
He can tell that Bai Luoyin is hesitating at first, a personal war probably taking place in his head. But physical needs most likely trump his sense of rationality because soon enough, he starts undressing. The suit and tie go first, the shirt soon after. In no time, Bai Luoyin is naked as the day he was born.
It takes all of Jingyu’s self-restrain to rein back the overwhelming impulse to pounce.
If Zhouzhou was indecent before, Bai Luoyin is straight up looking vulgar.
Standing in front of him, Bai Luoyin is a complete contrast. He doesn’t know why, but there’s something hot in the idea of having Bai Luoyin naked while he’s still fully clothed. Bai Luoyin is still breathing harshly, desperation apparent on his face and his leaking dick.
“Good boy.” Jingyu praises, taking Bai Luoyin’s hand in his grasp. He leads it to his own throbbing dick, slides that warm hand into his sweatpants. He doesn't let Bai Luoyin look at it, no. That is for later. If he behaves better. “You want it, right?”
Bai Luoyin nods, his eyes dark.
“Where do you want it?”
It takes a few beats for the answer to come.
“In my mouth. Want it in my mouth first.” Jingyu shuts his eyes for a bit.
Although he expected it, Jingyu wasn’t really prepared to see the image of Bai Luoyin going to his knees.
And Bai Luoyin, the manipulative shit, doesn’t do things in halves. No, he makes a show out of it. As he descends, he sneaks a squeeze to Jingyu’s dick.
He doesn’t even simply stay on his knees like a good person would, no. He makes sure to spread his knees and, after giving his own dick a few stroke, his hand reaches for his ass.
Jingyu can tell. Can see every details.
His jaw tightens when Bai Luoyin starts riding his own finger. And while his hand is busy down under, Bai Luoyin’s eyes are looking right into his. Laced with desperation, but clouded with smugness.
“Do you need a written invitation?” Jingyu asks.
Bai Luoyin doesn't spare another second before he mouths on Jingyu’s dick through his sweatpants. Kissing the outline, but not too much. No, he is too impatient for that. In no time, he has Jingyu’s dick between his lips, the tip hitting the back of his throat.
For a supposedly straight man, Bai Luoyin is too good at this.
The rough pad of Bai Luoyin’s tongue feels like heaven on his dick, and Bai Luoyin knows well enough to avoid using his teeth. He plays with the head, suckling on the tip as though it’s candy, his lips making sounds as he sucks. Jingyu runs a hand on Bai Luoyin’s cheek to feel the fullness.
Fuck, Bai Luoyin is a sight to behold. With a cock in his mouth and a couple of fingers in his ass — he is the embodiment of sin.
Jingyu was already turned on like hell, but this is pushing him so close to the edge. The pressure in his balls telling him as much.
He has no choice but to grasp Bai Luoyin’s hair.
Bai Luoyin releases him with a pop, looking smug. The little shit.
“On your hands and knees, face to the mirror.”
Jingyu feels for his pocket to make sure that the packet of lube is there. Something he always has in convenience whenever Zhouzhou is around.
He trails kisses down the spine of Bai Luoyin’s back, making sure to leave his marks. Down and down he goes until he reaches Bai Luoyin’s ass.
With a swipe to his tongue, he has Bai Luoyin writhing under him. Grasping his hips to keep him still, Jingyu goes for it. Sucks and licks until Bai Luoyin is nothing but a trashing mess. His thighs are shaking while his broken moans fill up the room.
Jingyu looks up and yea. Fuck yea.
Jingyu hastes to coat his fingers in lube after grappling for the packet, and by the time he has two fingers in, he has to keep ahold of Bai Luoyin’s waist. Said man is breathing laboriously, his arms barely holding himself up.
“Gu Hai,” Bai Luoyin pleads, pushing his ass back for more.
“What do you want, baby?”
“Fu— fuck…” Jingyu knows he found the spot at the groan that follows. “Fuck me. Fuck me now.”
And who is Jingyu to deny that?
He doesn’t realize how worked up he was until he’s root deep, feeling Bai Luoyin taking him in docilely while moaning wantonly on the floor. His arms are no longer functional, his face smushed onto the floor.
Jingyu doesn’t let him go that easily. He takes both hands to Bai Luoyin’s back, pulling at it until Bai Luoyin can see the sight of himself in the mirror.
And what a sight it is.
Flushed and panting, muscles corded as his body answers Jingyu’s continuous pounding, Bai Luoyin is a work of art. His mouth says nothing but prayers for more, for harder and for release.
“Gu Hai. Gu Hai.” Bai Luoyin cries, sounding like he’s at his wit’s end. “Please. Please. I can’t. Can’t anymore.”
No longer willing to see the man suffer, Jingyu lets go his arms. Grips either side of his hips tight enough to leave an imprint the next morning, thrusting in harder, deeper — anything Bai Luoyin could ever want. The man who is currently clawing at the floor, voice hoarse and desperate.
Jingyu reaches a hand for Bai Luoyin’s cock, still hammering into his ass, giving it to him so good it’s driving the man under him slowly insane. And not even a moment later he can feel Bai Luoyin’s cock spurting hot and sudden in his hand, his ass squeezing Jingyu’s dick tight.
Growling, Jingyu pins Bai Luoyin under him. Presses the man into the floor, biting at his neck as he rams into him.
“Ah, ah, ah.”
Even in his weakened state, Bai Luoyin still tries to appease him, moving his ass weakly to cater to Jingyu’s wants.
For Jingyu, there is nothing but sensations now. The sounds of his balls slapping against Bai Luoyin’s ass, the fucking feel of Bai Luoyin around his cock — another thrust, a bite to a neck, a growl and he’s done for. He can feel himself letting go, coming so hard he can feel his cum pushing itself into Bai Luoyin’s ass.
Energy immediately abandons him, leaving him to slump on Bai Luoyin, body turning into a dead weight.
From head to toe, his body buzzes with fatigue and relief. Pleasure still coursing through his veins and making his limbs quiver.
They are still laboring for breaths when Jingyu hears Zhouzhou’s breathy laugh. His voice is no longer deep and firm like Bai Luoyin’s.
Zhouzhou is finally back in his own body.
“Fuck, I can’t believe we did that.” he says with wonder, his body vibrating with laughter. He turns to face Jingyu. “You still have your clothes on. And shit, you didn’t even wear a condom. ” he weakly slaps on Jingyu’s shoulder.
“Shut up, I’ll help you clean it up later.” Zhouzhou rolls his eyes. They both know what that will lead to. “Man, my sexual prowess is so phenomenal I turned you into Bai Luoyin.”
“Ugh, shut up.”
Talking is still a physical labor for them, every word weighed down by the need to breathe. But Jingyu is still Jingyu. “Come on, come on. Say it. Tell the world how majestic my dick is.” he shakes Zhouzhou’s hips in demand.
“Fuck, you’re such a child.” Jingyu still persists with his shaking. “Okay okay. That was a great dick, the best dick. Can’t live without it. Would swipe right. 10 out of 10. Would book for the next stay. Would fuck again.”
The hotel room rings with laughter when Jingyu tickles him in retaliation.
Like a scientist observing a new species, Jingyu studies Zhouzhou’s face. Staring hard and thinking that maybe, just maybe, he could find some sort of answer perhaps in the plump curve of Zhouzhou’s lips, or the bump of his nose, or even the tiny mole nestled in the small nook between his ear and sideburn.
He doesn't know what exactly is this ‘thing’ they have between them.
Can’t even begin to explain how he feels about Zhouzhou.
They both have had their success and failures in relationships, but for Jingyu, past experiences can’t even come close to what he currently feels. So new is this feeling that he’s left dumbfounded as to what it is called. Like shit, he doesn’t know if past experiences are even applicable at this point seeing as he's dealing with a whole new gender altogether.
It is different, being with a man. There is no expectation for romance, no pressure for acceptable etiquettes and there is little to no boundaries between them.
He doesn't have to watch his mouth or constantly have to make sure that his joke is appropriate or not.
Hell, most of the time, the dirtier the joke, the harder Zhouzhou would laugh.
It’s like constantly being in the company of a best friend — except for the fact that he wants to jump this best friend pretty much 24/7.
But it goes beyond the need of the flesh, because he wouldn't say he would fuck his other friends.
Just this one particular friend.
A friend he wants to see and keep tab on everyday. A friend he fears to hurt. A friend he wants to shelter in his arms so no ugliness of the world can touch him.
Zhouzhou is his best friend, his lover, his confidant and his … something unexplainable.
Zhouzhou isn’t like the others. He is more than that. He is special. He is an exception.
Yes, that is it.
An involuntary chuckle escapes him when he hears the little sniffle coming from Zhouzhou, still cocooned safely in their blanket and hair looking like a disaster. His face is bare, blemishes not hidden under heavy makeups and eye bags exposed for the world to see. He looks like Zhouzhou, the little shit who takes too much pleasure in picking on Jingyu’s nerve. Not Zhouzhou the idol.
He looks like his Zhouzhou.
Jingyu buries a hand in the thick black mop of Zhouzhou’s hair, feeling soft strands tickle his palms.
His breathing stops when he sees Zhouzhou’s eyes slowly blink open. For unknown reasons, he feels guilty being caught like this. Like a robber, but rather than stealing items he's stealing moments.
It is silent in their room save for the hushed puffs of their breathings.
His heart is beating a mile a minute, almost stopping altogether when he watches a smile uncurl from Zhouzhou’s lips. His eyes still hooded with sleep, his cheeks indented from the depth of his smile.
“Morning.” Zhouzhou whispers.
Jingyu has no choice but to give that smile a kiss, giving a grin in return when he feels his heart slowing down to calm beats.
Yea, definitely an exception.
He’s standing at the exact spot where he stood five days ago. Even the time is almost similar — early hours of the morning when it is dark enough the birds are not even thinking of singing. But rather than seeing Zhouzhou standing at the entryway in arrival, he's now preparing for departure. His bags are on the floor, ready for collection by Jingyu’s assistant any moment now. Soon enough, he’ll be swept away into another unmarked and tinted car, to another hushed up journey.
Jingyu clenches his hand and heads for the couch. An array of gifts litter the surface of his living room, some he has checked while some not. He goes to an assortment of clothes folded on an armrest, fiddles through them until he sees the one he knew was not for him the moment he saw it.
“Hey,” he murmurs. Zhouzhou looks up from his phone, glancing at him before he takes notice of what’s in Jingyu’s hand.
Jingyu skips explanation, simply opens the jacket up and lays it on Zhouzhou’s shoulders.
“You’re a wimp to the cold — makes your ears and nose hideously red.” he says as he helps Zhouzhou into it.
Zhouzhou rolls his eyes. “Fucking asshole.”
“Watch your mouth.” Jingyu warns without any resentment.
“I’ll watch mine when you watch yours, old man.”
They both quiet at the mention of that. Old man — a constant joke between them to make fun of their age difference. Mentioning that brings forward a new matter that has yet to be discussed.
Jingyu musters the courage to speak first. “You’re gonna sneak to Shanghai on that day?”
Because Jingyu knows for a fact that he can’t. With the fan-meet happening on top of his birthday, too much attention would be on him. If he were to sneak a trip to Beijing, it would raise suspicions. Would make it too obvious.
Zhouzhou averts his gaze, uncertain.
“I don’t know. I don’t know what the management has in store for me.”
Jingyu keeps his silence, fearing that the lump in his throat would reveal too much if he were to speak.
“Hey,” Zhouzhou says, leaning close, his mouth near Jingyu’s ear. “I’ll try okay. No promises, but I’ll try.”
Nodding, Jingyu grabs ahold of Zhouzhou’s jaw. His hand slides to Zhouzhou’s neck, caressing the marks he knows are there without even looking. He breathes Zhouzhou’s scent in and descends for a kiss. Just a soft peck to his jaw, a slide of his lips to Zhouzhou’s cheek before he kisses his mouth.
He can feel Zhouzhou’s tight grip on his shirt, pulling him closer.
The doorbell rings.
Their time is up.