There's a flight coming in shortly after six, and Zhu Yilong is ready.
He can't meet Bai Yu at the airport, and he can only hope he'll make it here unseen, but that's out of his hands now. They've done everything they could to prepare for this weekend. He walks from room to room, fussing with things, and he waits.
He's in a stranger's bedroom, which seems terribly improper and dangerous and-- exciting. It seems right. It seems right, with this stranger. He couldn't explain why, if someone asked, but he doesn't have to explain himself to anyone. He wanted to be here. Didn't even want to be at the bar; just got dragged there to celebrate someone's graduation. Then he saw Bai Yu, watching him from across the room, and after talking to him for five minutes he wanted to be here.
He's young and hungry and achingly reckless.
That's the story.
That's who he is, tonight.
He can spin it from there.
"You must have taken plenty of young men home with you," he says, giving Bai Yu a smile that's this side of shy, daring him to reminisce on previous exploits.
"I haven't, actually," Bai Yu says, and for a moment Zhu Yilong is thrown off script, unsure if he's missed some cue.
He keeps the smile on his face, turns his own confusion into the boy's. "I find that hard to believe," he says, throwing Bai Yu a look that says, you could have anyone.
"There have been women," Bai Yu says, grinning at Zhu Yilong like he's understood the look quite clearly and can't really argue with it. He's still leaning against the door, languid and unhurried. "Are you wondering? Why you?"
Zhu Yilong suddenly doesn't know what to do with his hands, how to stand; wishes he could just fall to his knees right here, sink into something familiar. He nods, darts his eyes to the floor.
"Because you were beautiful," Bai Yu says, "and I wanted you."
It's almost a physical thing, the way the words hit him in all the soft, unprotected parts of him, and he looks up, wide-eyed.
"You looked like you were searching for something," Bai Yu says, finally pushing himself off the door.
Zhu Yilong swallows. It's easy now, to turn into the boy again. The boy finds it hard to look up, to meet Bai Yu's gaze. He nods, mostly at the floor.
"I think I could give you what you need." Bai Yu's voice is so soft, and he's so close now the boy can smell his cologne. He raises his hand to the boy's face, fits his palm against his cheek. The boy's eyes slide closed.
"Hey," Bai Yu says. "Look at me."
It takes him a second to read the look on Bai Yu's face, recognize the question in his eyes. Yes, Zhu Yilong nods, holding Bai Yu's gaze. The boy wants all of it.
Bai Yu smiles, stroking Zhu Yilong's cheek, but it's the boy who turns into the touch, into the warmth of it. "You trust me?" Bai Yu says, and the boy nods. "Close your eyes." He can sense Bai Yu leaning in and then he's finally kissing him, gently at first, just a soft press of lips. His hand slides into the boy's hair, holding him in place, and the boy falls into the kiss, the touch, the darkness behind his eyelids.
He goes to his knees so easily, it barely takes a push from Bai Yu, and then he can lean against Bai Yu's stomach, let himself be held, no need to do anything else. Bai Yu is stroking his hair, telling him yes and good and beautiful, and the boy sinks further into the quiet.
He's aware of a question that he needs to process, and he fights against the heaviness, tries to give Bai Yu an answer.
Have you done this before?
The boy nods. There's a pause, so he waits for another question. He can make himself answer it.
He shakes his head against Bai Yu's stomach. Bai Yu's hand slides down, comes to rest on the back of his neck for a moment before his fingers trail through his hair again.
When was the last time?
"Two years ago," the boy says, mumbles it against fabric, against the warmth he can feel underneath. It feels like such a long time, to live without this. "He left."
There's an audible intake of breath above him and the hand in his hair stills for a moment. Did he say something wrong?
Well I'm here, Bai Yu says. The boy nuzzles against his stomach, nods his head in agreement. What do I call you?
"Yilong," the boy says, with some difficulty.
You don't like talking, do you, Yilong?
The boy nods, then feels and hears movement as Bai Yu crouches down. I just need you to answer one last question. The boy stills, waiting.
What do you want?
God, everything. He can't say any of it.
Right now. Tell me.
Fingers stroke down his cheek, lift his chin so he can let himself be kissed, on his lips and the side of his neck. He can feel every part of his skin that Bai Yu touches, like it wasn't even his before, but now it is.
You'll have to earn it.
The boy slowly nods his head. He wants to, yes.
Then the fingers and the lips and the warmth are gone, but he can still hear Bai Yu, moving around the room. There's the soft slide of fabric, maybe his jacket, and then he's sitting down on the bed. It sounds like it. Maybe he's watching him.
He drops his head forward in a deliberate bow, and he thinks he can feel Bai Yu's eyes on his neck, the straight line of his back, his thighs. He wants Bai Yu's eyes on him.
Relief floods through him as he sits down on his haunches, gives himself a moment to take a breath. He puts his hands on the carpet. It's a little scratchy, but soft under his knees. He moves slowly, trusting Bai Yu to tell him if he has to adjust his course. You're almost there. The voice is right in front of him, so he raises his head, leans into Bai Yu's hand when he can feel it on him.
He ends up kneeling between Bai Yu's legs, hands on his thighs, sinking further when Bai Yu cups his face, strokes his cheek. God, I thought you'd look good on your knees, but I had no idea. He wants to be kissed again, but Bai Yu just slides his thumb over his bottom lip, dips inside for just a moment. Not yet.
It takes a while, for Bai Yu to unbutton Yilong's shirt, starting at the very top and letting his hands linger on every bit of exposed skin. He shivers, when Bai Yu finally slides it off his shoulders, and then Bai Yu is kissing him, his tongue slipping into his mouth. Yes, he thinks. Please, yes.
Bai Yu helps him climb onto the bed, gently pushes at him until he's lying on his back. His pants are taken off, his socks, and suddenly he feels exposed like this, awkward about his limbs. He wants Bai Yu's hands on him, wants to curl up, wants to be covered.
No. There's a hand on his chest, sliding down to his stomach, holding him in place. Let me look at you. It's not quite enough. He needs more. Don't. Move. He arches up against the hand, but then he stills, takes a breath, and then another. See, that wasn't so hard. The voice is so soft, and he can hear a smile in it. Bai Yu must know that's not true. He wants to turn his face into the pillow, but the fingers digging into his belly tell him he can't. He won't.
Fingers start trailing over his skin, feathery light and in no discernible pattern, over his ribs and down his arms. Up and down the inside of his forearm, so slowly he can feel it everywhere at once, spreading want through his whole body. He wants to arch into the touches, he wants more, but he can't ask for it. He focuses on his breathing, on making himself very still. When the fingers stroke the inside of his thigh, he twitches, and he can't hold back the noise.
Shh. It's okay. You are doing so well. You can move now, it's okay.
He thinks he's rocking his hips up, but maybe it just feels like that inside his own mind. He doesn't know what Bai Yu sees. He arches his neck, licks his lips, and then he's being kissed, soft tongue dipping into his mouth, fucking into him as a hand grips his hip, holds him still. You are killing me, breathed against his mouth, and that seems wrong. That seems to be the wrong way around.
Then the lips are gone, and he can feel the mattress dip and rise, can hear the sound of clothing being taken off. It sounds like Bai Yu is trying to be quick about it, if he had to guess, but he's still catching his breath, so maybe he's hearing things wrong.
There's movement again, and legs straddling him, bracketing his hips. Hands on his chest, curling against his sides, and then lips on his again, and finally, all of Bai Yu covering his body, skin to skin, mouth pressed against his shoulder. He can feel: the beard, the softness of lips, the nose dragging up the side of his neck.
He keeps testing Bai Yu's hold on him, trying to move, to arch up, and he can't. It's almost unbearable, feeling this safe, this warm.
Shh. I've got you. I've got you.
Why did he leave you?
He squirms, but Bai Yu won't let him move. Kisses his neck again, so slowly, with endless patience.
"Got married," he manages to say, or at least he thinks he does.
Bai Yu mutters something very uncharitable against his skin, and he huffs out a laugh. It doesn't even hurt anymore. It almost doesn't hurt anymore.
He turns his head and Bai Yu kisses him, slides his fingers into his hair. Please, please, please. He tries to push into the touch, tries to tell Bai Yu-- the fingers grip tighter, pull on his hair, yes, yes, god, yes. He thinks he makes a noise.
He's pulled up, pressed close to Bai Yu, and then he can bury his face in his shoulder as Bai Yu grips the back of his neck tight, wrings another noise out of him.
I'll take care of you, Yilong. Will you let me take care of you?
He nods, his open mouth sliding against skin, and then he's being kissed again, not patiently, not gently at all. He can hear Bai Yu gasp for air when he breaks away, and then he's pressing his lips, his teeth into the side of Yilong's neck, down, down, until Yilong can feel his beard scratching against his collarbone. His head is pulled back, exposing his neck, his throat, and he sinks into the touch, into Bai Yu's hand in his hair.
He thinks maybe Bai Yu will kiss him there, maybe sink his teeth into his skin, but he's still rubbing his chin against the same spot, until it starts to hurt, until it feels raw. He's lost track of the sounds he's making. Bai Yu will tell him if he needs to be quiet.
Lie down again, love.
Lips on his collarbone, licking the spot he imagines to look fire red, then teeth pressing into it so carefully, he only notices the pain when the teeth are gone, replaced again by soft, warm, soothing. Then the lips are gone too and he can breathe, and breathe, swallow against the dryness in his throat. More, he wants more.
Teeth on his hip, sucking on skin, sucking blood to the surface, hands holding him down. He's so hard, he wants to cry, he wants to scream, he wants Bai Yu to never stop.
God, how could anyone ever--
He turns his face into the pillow and there are lips on the side of his neck again, so much softer than they were on his hip.
It's so soft, he isn't sure he even heard it right. He wants Bai Yu to go back to what he was doing, he wants Bai Yu to leave more marks, to have the pain and the heat and the tenderness drown out everything else in his head. He tries to push Bai Yu's head back down, hears a soft laugh.
I'll let that go this time.
He sucks in his lips, caught, and feels fingers stroking his cheek. He takes a breath.
Then the fingers are on his chest, somewhere over his heart, nails scratching down hard. He arches against Bai Yu, tries to muffle his moans against the pillow, but it's no use. It hurts, it feels so good, little trails of fire all the way down to his core, burning him up, and it won't stop. Finally, a hand over it, warmth over heat, as if to press the marks into the skin, preserve them there forever. His eyes feel a little wet.
Nod if you want me to stop.
He takes a deep breath. He feels lightheaded, and his throat feels scraped raw. He doesn't move his head.
Last one. Nod when you're ready.
Another breath. He nods.
Teeth on his shoulder, just where it meets his neck; sharp and relentless. He rocks up against Bai Yu, and Bai Yu makes a noise, muffled against his skin. The teeth dig in harder, and Yilong bites back a shout, rocks up again and again. Bai Yu breaks away, finally, sits back on Yilong's thighs, and then-- he thinks--
Do you want to watch?
He makes a noise before he's even nodding his head, but he's keeping his eyes closed, just in case.
His eyes fly open, and he has to blink against the sudden light.
Won't take very long, anyway.
He can see a little bit of what Bai Yu has done to his chest, his hip, but he's only really looking at Bai Yu, at the hand moving over his cock, at his face, his eyes staring down at him, the sweat on his forehead; his open mouth.
Bai Yu's eyes are roaming over his body, taking in every single mark he's left, and then he's looking at Yilong, only at Yilong, until he moans and drops his head, painting white over Yilong's chest, his neck.
Close your eyes.
He doesn't want to, he wants to see Bai Yu like this. He does it anyway.
Fingers at his mouth, smearing wet over his lips, and he opens up unthinkingly, licks it up. The fingers trail over the marks on his chest, his spit mingling with Bai Yu's come, and then they're back at his lips. He sucks them into his mouth, swallows it all down, and he wants, he wants so bad, he thinks he could come if Bai Yu told him to, right now.
He makes a noise around the fingers, and finally, finally, Bai Yu slides them out of his mouth, frees his cock, his hand just loosely wrapped around it. Movement, and then Bai Yu's voice close to his ear, his warmth pressed along his side.
How badly do you want to come?
He wants to cry.
The fingers tighten around his cock, and he pushes up into them, again and again and again.
-- beautiful --
He comes with Bai Yu's voice in his ear, Bai Yu's lips pressed to the corner of his eye, Bai Yu's hand wringing every last drop out of him until he twitches away, curls protectively around himself. Only then does Bai Yu relent, leaving Yilong's side just long enough to pull up the blanket over them both, wrapping himself around his body again.
He presses kisses into Yilong's hair, whispers words of praise and affection, rubs his arm under the blanket when he starts shivering.
Yilong is floating, cocooned in warmth.
Sleep, love. I'll be here.
It's the last thing he hears before he's out.
Bai Yu asleep beside him.
His body feels raw in several places, but Bai Yu must have cleaned him up, at least. It doesn't seem sticky. He touches a finger to his collarbone and grimaces. He'll look at it in the morning.
There's a glass of water on the bedside table and he drains it in one long go.
Then he goes back to sleep.