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It shouldn’t even be possible to arch your back like that.
Rui’s stupidly tiny pink shirt rides up as he leans a hand against the wall, and Wumuti is thankful that they went a bit heavy handed on the blush this morning, because the pink tint the makeup artist swiped across his nose and the apples of his cheeks obscures the way it affects him.
In the years he’s known Rui, it never gets easier - watching him flaunt his flexibility like that. Their debut choreography was one thing, Wumuti finding himself embarrassingly breathless every time he dropped into that back bend, but lately…
He has to know what he’s doing, Wumuti thinks. He watches as Rui twirls the ears of his white bunny hat between his long, manicured fingers. They curled his hair today, the newly-pink strands fluffy against his sharp features. Wumuti wants to thread his fingers through it and pull.
Rui turns, then, giggling as he leans his upper back against the wall. The stylists put him in a long, black skirt over trousers today, and Wumuti wonders what he’d look like in something much shorter, something that rides up when he bends over, revealing tiny pink panties that go translucent where he’s already wet.
Rui’s lower back doesn’t even come close to touching that damn wall, his ass pressed against the brick. His tiny waist is accentuated like this, soft, tanned skin stretching across the flat expanse of his stomach. Wumuti’s mind whirs. His eyes lock onto his belly button, and he wonders - if he were ever blessed with the opportunity - if he’d be able to see the outline of his strap when he fucks him.
Wumuti exhales deeply, remembering where they are. You’re at a fucking fansign, he chastises himself. Get it together.
-
Hours later, they’re back at the dorm, and Wumuti is confident that the image of Rui in that little pink shirt is burned into his retinas forever. They’d taken off their fansign outfits before they left, but whilst Hyun and Haru had changed into their matching jogger and hoodie sets, Rui had swapped one crop top for another.
Wumuti sat in the front as their manager drove them home, elbow on the armrest and fingers massaging his forehead. He’d turned around once, when Rui had whined from the middle seat. “Gege,” he’d said. Wumuti had apprehensively twisted in his seat, knowing he only calls him that when he wants something. “Can we watch a film when we get home?” He’d asked, leaning forward and putting on that fucking pout of his, and Wumuti had spun back around so fast he thought he might have whiplash.
“Sure, anything you want,” he’d replied, trying to sound normal. It must have worked, because Rui had settled back in his seat and remained quiet for the rest of the journey.
When they got back, Hyun and Haru set themselves up with some ramen and video games in the living room, commandeering the television. Rui had slipped away to his room to switch his jeans for a pair of soft pyjama bottoms, and then shepherded Wumuti into the room the elder shares with Hyun. “Your bed is bigger, we can watch it on your laptop,” he’d explained. Wumuti had nodded dumbly, watching as Rui sprawled himself on the bed, his little t-shirt riding high on his ribs.
Now, they lay cuddled up under the duvet, the laptop balanced on Wumuti’s knees and playing a film he hadn’t been paying attention to.
In this position, Rui’s bare stomach presses up against Wumuti’s arm, and it’s all he can focus on. He feels the man laugh against him at something funny that had apparently happened on screen, and he forces a smile himself, missing the look Rui gives him. Wumuti’s breath catches as Rui’s pretty fingers slide down his arm to encircle his wrist, lifting it over his head and behind his back, depositing Wumuti’s hand on his waist.
Wumuti can’t remember the last time he’d had a good orgasm that wasn’t from his hand in the silence of his shared bedroom, so it’s on this that he blames the fact he almost moaned from the contact. His heart hammers in his chest, neck flushed, and he can’t help but splay his fingers across Rui’s waist. He’s so tiny there that his hand reaches the flat skin of his stomach, and his mind feels numb.
Rui sinks into his touch, his head coming to rest on Wumuti’s shoulder. The laptop jostles as he curls his legs up against him, slightly turning onto his side. Wumuti’s hand slips from his stomach, and Rui pulls at his fingers, bringing it back to lay across his belly button.
Oh, god. Wumuti feels himself getting wet, unable to resist stroking his fingers back and forth across Rui’s skin. It’s so soft. He’s so tiny. His strap would absolutely show if he fucked him. Wumuti feels insane.
Rui sighs contentedly, nuzzling his cheek against Wumuti’s arm. He shifts his body up slightly, and Wumuti’s hand slips down, pressing lower on his abdomen. Wumuti feels Rui’s waistband below the tips of his fingers, and he suppresses a whine. He continues to stroke across his skin, dipping his fingers even lower - slowly enough for it to seem like an accident.
Rui still seems to be engaged in the film, and as the tension between the main characters peaks, he adjusts his position, sitting up in Wumuti’s embrace. He uses Wumuti’s forearm as leverage as he does so, leaning his elbow on it - which means his hand can’t move with his waist. Which means it slips lower once more. Which means his palm is pressed against the heat of Rui’s core, and Wumuti cannot breathe.
He stays there, frozen, for a few moments before he attempts to extricate his hand, but Rui places his own palm over the top of it, keeping him in place. Wumuti thinks he must be imagining the way Rui’s hips rock minutely against him. Actually, he thinks he must be imagining this entire situation - he’ll come to, in a minute, pussy wet and aching.
“I love this film,” Rui comments, voice steady like there’s nothing untoward happening whatsoever. Wumuti pauses a beat too long before he responds. “Yeah, me too,” he lies. He doesn’t think he could name a single character if he tried.
“No you don’t,” Rui says, but he doesn’t sound mad. “You’ve barely been watching.”
“What? Yes I have,” Wumuti argues, voice thin, but he’s a terrible actor. Rui giggles next to him.
“You haven’t,” he concludes. “You’ve been too busy thinking about fucking me, haven’t you?”
Wumuti feels as though a bucket of ice cold water has been thrown over him, and his chest goes tight. His breaths are heavy as he feels Rui circle his hips against his hand - unmistakably, this time. “N-n-no I haven’t,” he stammers, a last-ditch attempt to retain some of his dignity.
“Yes you ha-ave,” Rui teases, turning his face upwards to look at him. Wumuti keeps his eyes locked on the screen, unfocused.
“I don’t mind, unnie,” he whispers, lips close enough to Wumuti’s jaw for him to feel his breath against his skin. A light whine escapes Wumuti on his next exhale, and he hears Rui chuckle next to him. The younger man shifts, leaning his face close to his ear. “I’ve been thinking about you fucking me, too,” he whispers.
What.
Wumuti’s brain blue-screens, pressing his fingers against Rui’s clothed pussy subconsciously, as if his hand belongs to somebody else. But he feels every bit of him through his thin pyjama bottoms, coarse hair against his palm and wetness against his fingertips. He dips his hand lower, pushing his fingers against Rui’s entrance through the fabric, and Rui keens, high in his throat.
Something in Wumuti snaps, then, and he removes his hand, reaching forward to slam the laptop shut. There’s an argument on Rui’s lips about to break forth when he looks around, but it dies on his tongue when he sees Wumuti’s face.
Wumuti gets up from the bed, placing the laptop on his desk on the other side of the room as he wills his hands to stop shaking. Any blood that once resided in his brain has long since headed south, and he feels dizzy with it.
Rui sits patiently on the bed, watching his every move. His pink curls are slightly mussed from where he'd been laying against Wumuti, and his crop top has ridden so high it barely covers his nipples. His hands are planted on the mattress either side of him, thighs and knees pressed tightly together.
Wumuti stares at him, pictures of everything he wants to do to him flashing through his mind. Part of him expects Rui to laugh at him, to reveal it was all one big joke at his expense. But he knows he would never be that cruel, and he felt how wet he was under his fingers. To feel it through his panties and trousers - god, he must be soaked. Wumuti realises what he wants to do first. He needs to taste.
He rushes towards the bed, hands wrapping around the backs of Rui’s knees as he pulls him, hard, to the edge of the mattress. Rui lets him manoeuvre him around like a ragdoll, thighs falling apart and feet dropping to the floor as he collapses back onto his elbows. Wumuti slips his hand between his legs, palm facing up as he presses his thumb against Rui’s centre. Rui’s head falls back, and he lets out a breathy moan, his hips jerking into the touch.
“Is this ok?” Wumuti asks, circling his thumb around Rui’s clit.
“No,” Rui groans. “I want more.”
His head shoots back up when he feels Wumuti’s hands wrap around his waistband, watching as he pulls his pyjama bottoms down and off. Wumuti’s mouth waters when he sees what’s beneath, pink cotton sticking to the lips of Rui’s soaking pussy and leaving nothing to the imagination. He’s unshaven, messy bush peeking out over the top of his panties, and Wumuti can't pull his eyes away.
He falls to his knees, sliding his hands up Rui’s soft, tanned thighs, spreading them even further apart with zero resistance. “Fuck, how are you so flexible?” He asks, Rui’s hips jolting when he feels Wumuti’s breath between his legs.
“You like it?” Rui laughs, breathless. “You wanna fuck me in the splits?”
Wumuti groans, leaning his head on Rui’s thigh. “Yes,” he admits, holding up his hand to lightly trail his fingers over Rui’s pussy. Rui whines, shifting his hips closer to him. “Please, unnie,” he pouts. And Wumuti can never resist his pout.
Hooking his finger under the ruined panties, he pulls them to the side, revealing Rui’s cunt in all its glory. He's sopping, hair sticky with it, and Wumuti runs his finger through it, down from Rui’s clit to his folds.
He pulls his gaze up to meet Rui’s, sucking the tip of his finger into his mouth. Rui groans, lifting his foot to kick at Wumuti's side. “Fucking hell,” he swears. “Stop stalling.”
Wumuti smiles, eyes curving as he removes his finger from his mouth with a pop. “You taste so good,” he purrs, and before Rui can say anything else, he's pulling his panties off him and wrapping his arms around his thighs. Rui’s stomach clenches as he flattens his tongue and licks one long stripe from his perineum to his clit, and he gasps in pleasure.
“Oh fuck, that's it,” he moans, head falling back to hang between his shoulder blades. Wumuti flicks his tongue over his clit, his bush tickling his nose, and Rui lets out a sharp yelp as he closes his lips over it and sucks.
It doesn't take long for spit and slick to be dripping down Wumuti’s chin, and he revels in it, bringing up his hand to spread Rui’s folds. He moves his tongue lower, licking over his entrance, long and slow. His fingers skim over Rui’s clit, still teasing despite himself as he points his tongue and dips it inside. Rui gasps, his hips grinding against Wumuti’s face as he falls back on the bed. He threads his fingers through Wumuti’s hair, keeping his face locked against his cunt, his other hand gripped in the sheets.
“Fuck, Muti,” he pants, chest heaving. He lifts one foot up onto the bed, pressing his knee against the mattress to allow Wumuti access to get his tongue even deeper. Wumuti shifts on his knees, licking back up to Rui’s clit and bringing his fingers down to circle at his entrance.
“Yes, inside, inside, please please-” Rui begs, and Wumuti obliges, easily slipping two fingers inside to the knuckle. He chuckles against Rui’s clit as he trembles below him. “So loose for me,” he comments. “You're gonna need something bigger than my fingers to fill you up, aren't you?”
“Yes, yes, I need your cock,” Rui agrees, pressing his hips forward against Wumuti’s fingers. He sobs when Wumuti pulls away, and the older man tuts at his reaction. “Be patient, honey,” he chastises, walking over to his wardrobe.
When he returns, he’s holding a black leather harness and a long, purple dildo. He places it on the bed, and Rui sits up, watching intently as he pulls off his t-shirt and joggers, Wumuti’s fingers pressing against his own wetness. They groan in unison, Rui’s eyebrows knotted and jaw dropped open as he watches Wumuti hook his thumbs into his underwear, stripping himself fully naked tantalisingly slowly.
“Fuck, can we scissor next time?” Rui asks, breathless.
“I thought you wanted me to fuck you in the splits next time,” Wumuti teases, dizzy at the promise of a round two. “The time after that, then,” Rui counters, hand slipping between his thighs, unable to resist pressing his own fingers inside himself any longer.
“You're so impatient,” Wumuti comments, reaching for the strap. He threads the dildo through the metal ring, adjusting it so it's held firmly in place. He steps through the leg pieces, pulling it up around his hips and tightening the straps.
“Fuck, look at your cock,” Rui breathes, grinding against the three fingers his has stuffed deep inside his cunt. Wumuti walks closer to the bed, coming to stand between Rui’s thighs. The younger man keeps his fingers inside himself as he leans forward to place a sloppy kiss against the tip of the fake cock, quickly taking it in his mouth and licking up the length to wet it thoroughly.
Wumuti runs his hand through Rui’s curls, swiping them back off his forehead where they'd started to get moist with sweat. “Good girl,” he compliments, both hands coming to cup his jaw. Rui looks up at him, eyes big and desperate as he presses as much of the dildo as he can to the back of his throat. He gags slightly, tears springing to his eyes.
“Oh, poor baby,” Wumuti coos, thumbs pressing against his cheeks, feeling the cock below the skin. The action reminds him of his fantasy from earlier that day, and he groans at the thought of feeling his cock like this through Rui’s stomach.
He gently pushes him back, and Rui releases the strap from his mouth, a long string of spit connecting them. Wumuti tilts his face up, swiping his thumb over his lip, before leaning down and joining their mouths in a deep, messy kiss.
Rui moans into it, high and gasping, and Wumuti licks inside, sucking on his tongue. He knows Rui can taste himself on his lips, and Wumuti’s thighs feel sticky with his own wetness.
“Please fuck my pussy, unnie,” Rui begs, breaking the kiss. Wumuti pushes him back onto the bed, tearing Rui’s fingers away from his cunt and pressing his hands against the backs of his thighs to display him fully, his pussy red and swollen and glistening. “Keep your thighs there,” he orders, and Rui obeys instantly, pulling his legs back even further - practically folding himself in half.
Wumuti rubs the tip of the strap over Rui’s messy cunt and the younger man groans, head thrown back against the bed. “Fuck, put it in,” he pleads, pussy throbbing with need. Wumuti slides the cock through his folds, wetting it even more before finally, finally pressing into Rui’s heat.
Rui whines, high-pitched moans loud and wanton, and for a moment Wumuti remembers they aren't actually alone in the dorm. But the thought is fleeting as he pushes in deeper, Rui almost sobbing at the feeling.
“Filling me up so well, unnie,” he gasps, opening his eyes to look at Wumuti. Wumuti’s own gaze is locked on where Rui’s pussy sucks him in, their thighs pressing together as he finally sheathes the entire dildo inside him.
“Oh- shit,” Wumuti curses, face screwed up when he sees the outline of his cock in Rui’s stomach. He traces it with his finger before pressing his palm against it, and Rui wails.
“Rui, fuck, I can see it,” he breathes, pulling his hips back slightly to press back in - just to see the outline shift under his skin. He does it again, and again, and again, and suddenly his pace picks up and he's fucking him properly, Rui moaning uncontrollably as his hips slam against his thighs.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Rui repeats over and over, his own hand coming to press against his abdomen. His eyes roll back when he feels the bulge under his palm, and he presses down harder, gasping.
“You're sopping,” Wumuti marvels, Rui’s juices soaking his thighs.
“Yeah, fuck, I'm gonna come,” Rui whines. “Keep going, fuck me through it, don't stop-”
Wumuti thrusts his hips harder, driving the fake cock in deeper and faster, working him open. Rui sobs, his hand slipping down from his stomach to rub at his clit as he chases his climax. His legs come down to lock against Wumuti’s hips as he topples over the edge, body shaking, his gasping moans setting Wumuti’s nerves on fire.
“Don't stop, don't stop,” Rui whimpers, hand pressing against the outline of Wumuti’s cock in his stomach once again. His pussy is loud with wetness, almost gushing out around them, and Wumuti is mesmerised. “Fuck, Muti, I'm gonna squirt,” he says, pressing hard against his mound.
“Oh shit,” Wumuti groans as Rui’s second orgasm hits him and he comes hard, fluid spraying from his cunt as Wumuti fucks him through it. Rui wails, huge shudders wracking his body as his muscles lock with the intensity. Wumuti leans down, collapsing onto his elbows to bite at Rui’s neck, the other man wrapping his shaky legs around him. Wumuti’s strap slips out with how wet it is, but his hips keep grinding, his own pussy desperate for friction.
He readjusts them, straddling Rui’s thigh and pressing his core down against it. “Fuck, baby, that was so hot,” he growls in his ear, hips sliding against Rui’s leg with ease.
“Wanna feel you come against me,” Rui gasps, body heavy and satisfied. He holds one hand against Wumuti’s head, the other trailing down to press against his ass, guiding his cunt against his own thigh.
“Rui, Rui, oh-” Wumuti whines, hips stuttering as he teeters on the edge.
“My perfect girl,” Rui coos, and that's what does it. Wumuti falls apart on his thigh, the tension snapping in his core as he lets out a choked sob against his neck. Rui guides his hips through it with the hand on his ass, tongue tracing his ear as the other man dissolves into pleasure.
Wumuti shakes with the aftershocks of his orgasm, eventually collapsing beside Rui, who laughs. “Oh my god,” Wumuti breathes.
“I know,” Rui agrees. “I can't believe we waited so long to do that.”
Wumuti returns his laugh, mind light and tongue loose. “I've wanted to fuck you since the day I met you,” he admits.
Rui turns onto his side, tucking Wumuti’s hair behind his ear. “I know,” he says, coyly. “But I was having so much fun teasing you.”
Wumuti groans. “I knew you were doing it on purpose,” he complains, lightly pushing at Rui’s chest. Rui catches his wrist in his hand, pulling it up to press a soft kiss against his fingers.
Their tender moment is broken by a voice outside the bedroom door.
“Uh, guys?” Hyun calls, cautiously. “If you're done in there, I really need my phone charger.”