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"Got to you, didn't it?"

Music still blasted around them as another group performed on stage, affording them a short break. It is hardly the time and place, especially when the latter is but a dark alcove while everyone else is busy and distracted.  

But Wang Yibo is smirking at him, all flushed and with sweat still on his hair from the last dance number he performed. An expression that is both annoying and stupidly hot was on that handsome face, and it is all Xiao Zhan can do to just grab the boy by the collar in lieu of pulling off his clothes altogether.

"Just shut up, Wang Yibo." 

The kiss they share is searing, hot and open-mouthed with the taste of Yibo's cherry lip balm in between. Xiao Zhan is first to dip his tongue in, licking inside that mischievous mouth, already worked up from having to watch the way Wang Yibo all but fucks the air on stage. The performance was absolutely sinful, hard abs and slender hips moving in quick snaps and slow gyrations in time with the music, the rest of his body a case study in power, control. Paired with the deep bass beating in time with their quickened pulse, this is likely another show that people will be talking about. 

Wang Yibo huffs out a laugh, blowing air that brushes against Xiao Zhan's sensitized lips. "Gods, I love it when you get like this."  

He leans in, arms braced on either side of Xiao Zhan's head. His lips are soft when Xiao Zhan sucks it in his mouth (probably part of his skincare routine, the vain bastard), sweet and smooth and morish like some dessert Xiao Zhan can't name. He opens his mouth to bite at those lips, pulling at them with an indescribable need while his hands keep Wang Yibo's head in place. 

Wang Yibo lets out a groan that goes straight down for Xiao Zhan.

"You're killing me." A hand finds Xiao Zhan's face, a thumb brushing roughly against his lips. Wang Yibo's eyes are on them, too, looking both drunk and hungry as he coaxes Xiao Zhan's mouth to open. His own mouth mirrors the movement as though hypnotized, slick tongue licking at pink lips as he watches the way his thumb dips past teeth and inside Xiao Zhan's mouth. 

Xiao Zhan arches at the intrusion, tasting the salt on Wang Yibo's skin, but distracted more by the feeling of having something in his mouth. The pads of that thumb brush the surface of his tongue and Xiao Zhan moans through it, eyes closing as his mouth naturally closes around that finger, sucking it in further.  

"Fuck." 

 Wang Yibo's deep voice is an assault to his ears. Xiao Zhan scrabbles at the hems of the younger man's shirt, finding it and crawling under it and scratching blunt nails against smooth skin. Wang Yibo sucks in a breath, the sound coming in a sharp hiss, and then there are teeth scraping at the side of Xiao Zhan's neck, making him hiss in turn. 

"Don't--"

"Yeah, I'm being careful," Wang Yibo is quick to say. He pulls back his hand, but he keeps their bodies pressed together, Xiao Zhan's back against the cold wall, Wang Yibo's body all but burning him at the front. Those sharp eyes go to his lips again, and it is satisfying how they quickly get back that lust-filled haze. "Fuck, you are so…" 

They kiss again, no less hot and even deeper this time around. Wang Yibo's voice is a steady purring that settles hot and low in the pit of Xiao Zhan's stomach. Blood feels like it is boiling in his veins, pumped and pushed on by the bass steadily beating around them. He lets it sweep him up into that mindless haze, and it only gets better, because Wang Yibo then presses their groins together just when the pleasure is getting good. Xiao Zhan's body arches up in shock, the music fortunately drowning out the moan that that pulls out of him. 

"Oh God," he lets out in a gasp, but the words are caught by Wang Yibo before they are all out. His mind short-circuits for a good minute as Wang Yibo presses him hard against the wall, moving against Xiao Zhan's body with those same moves that got him all hot and bothered watching from backstage. Wang Yibo is not shy about it either, and every move is made to brush against Xiao Zhan's cock, hard and probably all a mess from having been half-hard all this time inside his jogger pants. 

Fingers claw at the shirt on Wang Yibo's back. "Please, I--" 

"Mn." A grunt, deep and short but enough to tell him that Yibo understands. The younger of them also happens to be the bolder one, a fact which Xiao Zhan is grateful for this time around. He sucks in a deep breath, head falling back to slam against the wall as Wang Yibo pulls at the waistband of his pants and just shoves his hand in. Fingers wrap around Xiao Zhan's cock and surround him in a tight grip, warm skin and silver rings and all. 

It feels so good Xiao Zhan does not even have the heart to fight when Wang Yibo lets out a short, cocky laugh. "Wow, look at that," he teases. "Been watching me long, huh." 

"Please," Xiao Zhan barely manages. "There were many other dancers on stage." 

He cries out as Wang Yibo squeezes tight, a reprimand. "Yeah?" taunts the other with a smile on his lips but a fire in his eyes, challenging Xiao Zhan to continue if he dared. "Just any one of them will get you this good?" 

He twists his hand, his grip pulling at the tip so his fingers could smear the precome leaking there. At the back of his mind, Xiao Zhan can feel embarrassment fighting to get through, but he only blushes at best, his hips nonetheless pumping up against the hand holding him.  

"I--" Another moan, this time because Yibo pulls down his pants just enough to let his cock free. The air is cold backstage, but Wang Yibo's hand is hot when it returns to wrap around his dick, and the tortured moan that Xiao Zhan lets out is caught by Wang Yibo's mouth. And fuck, it is so good, so good to have that hand on him, pumping fast and hard in that pace Xiao Zhan needs, his hungry mouth satisfied in turn and plundered by a slick tongue. And the fact that it is him, whom Xiao Zhan and maybe half of China feel irresistibly drawn to, who all but smiles and moves and it fills the mind with dirty things and more—the fact that it is him doing all these things to him, is enough fantasy fodder to last Xiao Zhan for a lifetime. 

"Coming?" Again, in that self-satisfied tone. He is such a confident little shit, it's annoying, except it is also hot and it gets Xiao Zhan weak in the knees, because apparently he is into that now.  

He can only nod, too lost and fast losing patience. Fortunately in this, Wang Yibo seldom teases. He takes Xiao Zhan's hand and coaxes it to wrap around them both (when he had pulled down the zipper of his own pants is something Xiao Zhan has completely missed), and somehow it is better, them doing this together. Wang Yibo is hot and hard against him, their breaths struggling to match the pace of their hands, and they exchange hot exhales in the centimeters between their open mouths. 

They find a good pace, fast and thorough that has Xiao Zhan's eyes fluttering as he struggles on shaky legs. Wang Yibo then leans in, and his tongue darts out to lick at Xiao Zhan's lips before pulling him again into a kiss, and that does it. Xiao Zhan's moan is nearly a sob as he comes between their hands, the sounds coming from him helpless and unstoppable as his body completely surrenders, nothing but a needy thing rubbing up against Wang Yibo as he rides the pleasure out. Wang Yibo soon also stiffens against him, and once again they let the music drown out the volume of their voices. 

Wang Yibo slumps against him, and for the next minute or so they let the wall help them stay standing. The haze lifts and once again the music is just loud, thrumming through Xiao Zhan's ears. 

"That was good," he hears Yibo say, head still leaning on Xiao Zhan's shoulder. That head turns and he looks up at Xiao Zhan, smug smile gone and replaced instead by something softer. "Feeling better?" he asks. "You're up soon, so you better go back." 

--- 

"OK! Actors, places!" 

Xiao Zhan sucks in a breath and blinks awake.

The bright lights and the cacophony on the set of his latest drama welcome him back to the real world. His phone lies on his palm, the music from his earphones having long stopped. The video that played on the screen has ended, the thumbnail now just showing Wang Yibo in one of his latest performances, shirt open and with that come-hither look that is fast becoming his signature. 

He closes the window in panic, and the video is promptly replaced by a chat screen where the latest message goes: 

Wang Yibo: Concert done. I got this from one of the crew members. I thought the choreography on this is pretty cool and sexy.

[ Video attachment ] 

"Xiao Zhan?" 

He looks up from his daze to see one of the members of the staff. There was a questioning look on the guy's face, probably wondering why Xiao Zhan still has not moved. 

"Ah-ah, yes, I heard!" 

He pulls off his earphones and shoves his phone inside his bag. He notices his hands are shaking, and why wouldn't they? He just caught himself surfacing from a very, very questionable daydream. 

That stupid brat, he thinks. Who sends their own videos to people?  

He can feel the heat on the tip of his ears and he spares himself a moment, pinching between his eyes in disbelief. 

I really need to pull it together.