Yixing likes the way Wu Fan kisses. Soft every time he starts, like he expects Yixing to pull away instead of pull Wu Fan closer, kisses that get harder as the grip of Wu Fan's hands tighten.
Yixing likes catching Wu Fan like this, when his face smells like moisturiser and his hair is soft and slightly damp through Yixing's fingers. When it's late enough that Wu Fan believes that Lu Han probably is going to stay in K's dorm tonight, and so, when Yixing lies back, Wu Fan follows and kisses Yixing down into the mattress as he fits between Yixing's more flexible thighs. It burns, a little, wrapping his legs around Wu Fan's hips, but that's just pain and, anyway, later, Wu Fan will massage out the cramps.
That's how this started, Wu Fan's strong fingers digging into the aching muscles of Yixing's legs. Wu Fan had grumbled that it would be easier without Yixing's sweats in the way, and he'd frozen kneeling between Yixing's splayed calves, eyes wide and barely breathing, a hardon stretching the crotch of his perfectly pressed trousers.
Three months later, Yixing's sweats still haven't come off yet. Yet. When Wu Fan earnestly tells him that he doesn't want to do anything Yixing isn't ready for, Yixing usually just pats Wu Fan's hand. He's never sure what to say.
Yixing likes that Wu Fan is heavy, that his weight holds Yixing's body down while Wu Fan kisses from Yixing's mouth to his collarbones and Yixing's body jerks and shivers deliciously out of control. That took about five tries before Wu Fan believed that Yixing really did like it, because he stopped freezing whenever Yixing twitched and started looking smug, and holding down Yixing's hands.
Yixing likes trying not to laugh at the faces Wu Fan makes when they're making out, because he basically alternates smug and greasy with concentrating so hard it looks uncomfortable. Right now, Wu Fan's face looks like he would rather be anywhere else, but Yixing can also feel Wu Fan's hands trembling, trying to remember not to leave marks on Yixing's pale skin, and Wu Fan's cock digging hard into his thigh.
Yixing doesn't know how Wu Fan lasts. He couldn't last very long at all when he was still a virgin, though Yixing was so much younger then.
Yixing even likes that Wu Fan so often pulls back when they're already in the middle of things, when Yixing's lips hurt more after Wu Fan stops kissing him and Wu Fan's hands are already up underneath Yixing's tank. He likes moments like these when it's Wu Fan who looks dazed, his memory of why he pulled away from Yixing's warmth just out of reach, and all Yixing has to do is watch.
Yixing is a dancer and he can't remember when he still flinched at people looking at his body and finding beauty, finding flaws, putting their hands on his body to move him, to correct his posture and his pose. But Wu Fan is not a dancer, not the way Yixing is, and Wu Fan consumes English self-help books about how to be a better boyfriend the same way he researches how to be better leader and how to be a better son.
In Wu Fan's books, it's all boys with girls in the pictures. Yixing's English isn't good enough to know what the books tell Wu Fan, can only see them in the way he acts, the way he's so much more careful with Yixing than with himself.
By the time Yixing has pulled his tank up over his head and thrown it on the floor, he's smiling, smiling wide the way he knows dimples his cheeks. He's always smiled like that and Wu Fan is looking at Yixing's bare chest like it's the first time he's seen it.
"Anywhere I've said you can put your hands, you can put your mouth, too," Yixing says.
Yixing likes that Wu Fan is taller and has huge hands and that being the girl means Yixing's back gets to rest in a straight line. That Wu Fan's only hesitation in wrapping his hand around Yixing's cock was to ask first if that was ok, as if Yixing was the virgin and Wu Fan was the one with the history they don't talk about. He likes Wu Fan's mouth on his skin.
It's less annoying than it sounds, someone flushed and sweaty on top of him murmuring between kisses, can I, I want to, can I-- and Yixing only has to smile and say yes, and stroke his hands low enough to grab Wu Fan's ass before he moves too far down Yixing's body to reach.
Yixing likes that Wu Fan thinks Yixing has any innocence left to corrupt.