junmyeon/yixing, nc-17, 1046 words. (for nav and kendra, "lay has been secretly seducing him bc he has a thing for leaders rofl")
Junmyeon is not entirely sure how things end up like this; with Junmyeon pressed up against the kitchen sink as Yixing smiles sneakily into the skin of his shoulder and wraps one hand around Junmyeon’s cock.
“What—“ Junmyeon tries to say, but then Yixing’s teeth are sinking into his skin and then licking at the marks, and Junmyeon is just trying to remember EXO-K’s schedule, because while they might be home alone now, Baekhyun will never let him live it down if he walks in on Junmyeon getting jacked off in the kitchen. “Why—“
“I’ve noticed you staring,” Yixing says, in Mandarin, and Junmyeon is the best in K with Mandarin but that doesn’t mean he’s prepared to try and understand it right this minute as the palm of Yixing’s hand rubs across the head of his erection, hard enough that Junmyeon hisses. “Duizhang.” The word, so often reserved for M’s leader, makes him shiver, arousal heavy in his belly.
And yeah, maybe Junmyeon has been staring. Something about Yixing, lately, has been dragging Junmyeon’s eyes to him, even when he should be keeping his attention on Sehun, (whose recent infatuation with trying to make Kyungsoo’s eyes go even wider by touching him in naughty places is going to give both Kyungsoo and Junmyeon alike an aneurism.)
But Junmyeon hasn’t really thought about why he’s been unable to concentrate when Yixing walks by him, arm brushing Junmyeon’s and tiny mysterious grin curling up the corners of his pretty pink lips. Now that he’s paying attention, though, Junmyeon is more confused about why he hadn’t been paying attention before.
All he knows is that Yixing smells so good, tastes so good, feels so good, and Junmyeon has maybe wasted a lot of time. (Jongdae would say, “It takes as long as you took to debut for you to notice anything, Junmyeon,” but Jongdae is a smartass, and Junmyeon definitely does not want to think about Jongdae as Yixing is touching his dick.)
Yixing pulls away, and Junmyeon’s wandering thoughts return to the here and now. Yixing brings his hand up to his mouth and licks it wet again, and Junmyeon gurgles at the sight as Yixing laughs, now slick palm back around Junmyeon’s cock.
“But I don’t understand?” Junmyeon says, or maybe whimpers, because Yixing’s thin, strong fingers feel so good stroking up and down his shaft. Maybe, Junmyeon thinks, he doesn’t have to understand, and Yixing’s mouth is close enough that Junmyeon can lean forward just a little and capture the other man’s lips with his own.
Yixing tastes just as nice as he had ten minutes ago, when he’d tackled Junmyeon into the counter and slid his hands up Junmyeon’s shirt, sliding easy across ribs and muscles as Junmyeon tried to think about anything but how much he liked it. Now, as Junmyeon kisses him again, he takes his time, exploring the other man’s teeth and cheeks as heat coils in his belly and his thighs begin to shake.
Yixing tilts his head to the side, pressing deeper, and Junmyeon can feel the friction of Yixing’s maroon trousers rubbing against the bare skin of his legs, and he tries to shift; to give Yixing more room, but he almost trips because oh, right,, he’s got his pants around his ankles and Yixing’s left hand has a death grip on his hip. Junmyeon is trapped, and it’s not against his will, and there’s nothing to do but let Yixing have control.
“You like me,” Yixing says, when they part for air, and Junmyeon blinks. The taste in his mouth is familiar, but he knows he’s never kissed Yixing before—he would have remembered something this intoxicating.
“Okay,” Junmyeon says, and that’s not how a leader should talk. Wu Fan would be disappointed, Junmyeon thinks, but then he remembers that Wu Fan is also putty in Yixing’s hands and feels a little less bad when he shudders as Yixing drops to his knees to take Junmyeon into his mouth.
“Okay?” Yixing teases, pulling back. The air in the kitchen is cold, and Junmyeon just wants Yixing to shut up and suck him off.
“Yes, I like you,” Junmyeon says, pushing his hips forward. Yixing laughs again, and offers Junmyeon a delighted lick to the crown of his cock.
“Even though I don’t have long hair or an intense love of reading by windows?”
“Shut up,” Junmyeon says, and he wonders, for a moment, why people take such delight in making his life hard. But then Yixing’s mouth is surrounding him in earnest, and Junmyeon figures you win some and you lose some.
The first time Yixing had sat too close to Junmyeon on the couch, offering an ample view down the front of his shirt and a whiff of his skin, Junmyeon had closed his eyes and tried to focus on unsexy things, like the DBSK ‘Balloons’ video. Now, though, he takes the time to appreciate the smooth lines of Yixing’s chest and the way Yixing smells like—
It escapes him again, but Junmyeon can’t seem to dismiss the way Yixing had stopped smelling like CK Black and started smelling like something familiar and comforting and like something Junmyeon wants to eat.
Orgasm sneaks up on him, and he doesn’t even have time to warn Yixing before he’s spilling into the warmth of his mouth. Junmyeon watches with amazement as Yixing swallows him down, jaw working as his eyes look up at Junmyeon through dark lashes, cheek dimpling and tongue lathing soothing licks along the underside of Junmyeon as Junmyeon winds down.
And then Yixing is standing up and kissing him again, and Junmyeon tastes himself and—
“Shrimp crackers!” Junmyeon squawks against Yixing’s lips, and Yixing’s stepping back and licking at the corners of his mouth.
“Your favorite,” Yixing says, and his smile is so innocent, but he’s got a bit of Junmyeon’s cum on his chin and Junmyeon knows nothing Zhang Yixing does is without purpose. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist the smell.”
“The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” Yixing says, taking his thumb and wiping it across his chin, catching the wetness and then licking it clean. “And I’ve got a thing for leaders.”
kris/lay, pg, 684 words (for nav, "huddling for warmth")
“Are you still cold?” Yixing asks, sliding his hand up Wu Fan’s belly. His fingers are hot as they press along Wu Fan’s skin, and Wu Fan presses his lips together.
“I’m not cold,” Wu Fan says, and he shivers, the residual chill from walking outside still lingering even now that they’re back inside, under the blankets in Wu Fan’s bed. ”What are you doing?”
The others were still out at the night market, but Yixing had claimed he was tired and Wu Fan had agreed to walk back with him, trying not to walk too close even though Yixing had been giving off warmth.
“Liar,” Yixing says, and Wu Fan shivers again, this time because the combination of Yixing’s hand under his shirt and Yixing’s breath against his neck is making his heart beat unfortunately fast. “Why do you think I brought you home?”
“Brought me home?” Wu Fan tries to sound put out, but instead he just sounds soft, because Yixing’s hand, so hot, is rubbing soothing circles against his stomach, heat pooling outward to slide down along the outsides of Wu Fan’s ribs and crawling up his chest.
“You looked so miserable, duizhang.” Yixing laughs, and his lip brush the skin of Wu Fan’s jaw. His laugh, Wu Fan thinks, is so pretty, and Wu Fan has to close his eyes to make the thoughts stop, because Yixing is his friend and he’s talked himself out of this a thousand times before. “I knew you’d walk me home if I said I was tired. You think it’s dangerous to let me cross streets by myself.”
“It is,” Wu Fan teases, and Yixing snorts. “We’re a six member band, you know.”
“And I’m an adult,” Yixing replies, and his hand slips a little higher, thin piano fingers dancing along Wu Fan’s sternum, leaving little tendrils of fire in their wake, and Wu Fan swallows, and tries to breathe normally. “Fully capable of making my own decisions. Getting myself where I need to go.”
“Yeah?” Wu Fan asks, and he knows it’s stupid, when his heart it threatening to explode and it’s already too hard to catch his breath, but he looks over at Yixing. Yixing is too close, and though there’s a playful smile on his lips, his eyes are serious. Wu Fan thinks it looks like Yixing is trying to tell him something, but he doesn’t know what. “I mean, yeah. I know.”
Yixing licks his lips, and sighs, and he’s so close that if Wu Fan wanted to; if Wu Fan wasn’t afraid to, Wu Fan could lean just a little closer and—
He closes his eyes again, because ‘if’s are just as painful as ‘shouldn’t’s, and Yixing’s mouth is so lovely in the dark.
Then Yixing’s hand slides up even higher, and finds Wu Fan’s nipple, twisting it so hard Wu Fan yelps from the pain of it.
Wu Fan’s eyes fly open to glare at his friend. “Still cold, duizhang?”
The strange tension is broken, and Yixing’s hand retreats from under his shirt. Wu Fan can’t decide if he’s disappointed or relieved. He settles on the latter, curling onto his side a little more toward Yixing. Yixing fits perfectly into the spaces his larger body leaves on the long narrow mattress.
“Why are you such a menace?” Wu Fan asks, and he can’t resist pushing his fingers into Yixing’s hair to slick it back from his forehead as Yixing continues to smirk at him. Wu Fan can feel warmth sloshing around in his belly, and running through his arms and legs all the way down to his fingertips and toes. His nipple stings too, but that’s the way of things with Yixing; Wu Fan likes that he doesn’t know what Yixing will do next.
“Because I was cold,” Yixing says, and Wu Fan laughs, bringing his hand back to his side. Yixing grabs it though, and traps it with his own. Wu Fan hesitates a moment, and then laces their fingers together. Just this once, he thinks, and Yixing doesn’t seem to mind. “And your stomach was warm.”