[Fic] The Right Choice
Title: The Right Choice
Pairings: Chanyeol/Kai, girl!Lay/girl!Lu Han, Sehun/BoA, Tao/Kris/Lay
Rating: NC-17
Genre: AU, smut, members as girls
Warnings: sexual situations
Summary: Four mostly smutty request fics including models, girls, kisses, and smut.
Prompt: Jongin and Chanyeol - That voice whispering in Jongin's ear making him shiver.
***
Jongin closed his eyes, the racket of the peppy music attempting to keep everyone on set motivated was a small thud in the back of his head. He was trying to keep his eyes from watering after the makeup artist had nearly stabbed his eye with an eyeliner pencil, and he still had a full shoot ahead of him. As long as he didn’t sweat all over the expensive shirt he was in he’d be great, and if they hadn’t started taking pictures he might just have done that.
There was a photographer, a man he’d met earlier when he’d passed by the makeup station, and a man beside him at a table, watching a computer screen as every picture was being taken. He’d introduced himself as Chanyeol, helping to direct the shoot. It was for a commercial magazine, and Jongin cared because it was money in his pocket. He hadn’t counted on a sex voice from the other side of the lights, but hey.
“Purse your mouth a little, yeah, like that. Whoever put that eyeliner on you needs a raise,” Chanyeol said. “Okay, let’s try smiling instead of a pout.”
Jongin put Chanyeol’s voice out of his head, and instead went to his happy place, thinking of something that would make his smile genuine - and pretty - rather than the pasted on smiles he saw from others. Sometimes it was just laughing at himself, having to suppress a giggle remembering when he’d practiced it in front of Sehun and gotten a critical eye and approval just before Sehun had cracked up at the expression on his face.
Jongin ended up on the floor, reclined against prop pillows, and a knee pulled up. He shivered as a draft hit him, before composing his face.
“Challenging the camera, yeah,” Chanyeol said. “Just tilt your head like- Yeah! I think that’s it for Jongin.”
Before Jongin could even move, Chanyeol had rounded the table and offered his help. He stood, gripping Chanyeol’s hand, and looked up. And kept looking up even after he was on his feet. Oh. Tall.
He was startled as Chanyeol leaned in, glasses slipped down Chanyeol’s nose, revealing surprisingly intense eyes.
“You did great. We’ll want you again.”
Jongin’s eyebrows rose, but Chanyeol was already shouting and swinging his arm around in the air like a lasso, getting people to move.
***
“Again” ended up being almost a month later, a different gig altogether. They were for a fashion campaign, something bigger than Jongin had been involved in before. The company had nearly suggested Jongin show up the night before, because jobs like those didn’t come along very often. It was because of the magazine shoot, that was all they’d tell him. He knew he didn’t have to show up with anything special, just himself and energy for a day long shoot.
Somehow he was still surprised to see Chanyeol there, sitting by one of the makeup artists and chatting until he saw Jongin.
“A little early, great,” Chanyeol said, grinning. No glasses that day, and Jongin wasn’t sure if he was glad or not. The glasses were a distraction from Chanyeol’s face and his voice. And Chanyeol waved over someone else, the designer as it turned out. Byun Baekhyun. Jongin almost felt himself retreat, greeting politely and standing stiffly as Chanyeol laughed.
“Show me your walk?” Baekhyun said.
As soon as Jongin figured out how to coordinate his legs. It took a few steps to rid himself of the stiffness, letting his natural gait be emphasized.
“Good, right?” Chanyeol asked, smirking.
“Yeah, whatever,” Baekhyun said. And then to Jongin, “No, actually it’s great. He’s just being too smug about it, finding you for me.”
Chanyeol chortled, even after Baekhyun was called away.
“Have you modeled?” Jongin asked, taking in Chanyeol’s height again, and the messy long hair.
“Have. Am. We’ll be shooting together today, so be on point.”
Chanyeol waggled a finger at him that Jongin had the impulse to bite, before pivoting and leaving Jongin to get his face prepared.
But shooting with Chanyeol was unlike anything he’d expected. He’d seen Chanyeol the jokester, the director, but Chanyeol the model was something else entirely. It was like his whole body gave in some weird way, making odd shapes that Jongin knew would be fantastic on camera. The danger in shooting with another model was that one could take over the picture, leaving the other like a forgotten background. So Chanyeol’s warning to be on point was twofold, both so that Jongin would be present in the pictures, and also not to screw up and waste Chanyeol’s time.
They were back to back, listening to direction. Bright colors and elaborate styling. His hair was fluffed and swooping, Chanyeol’s pulled back to frame his cheekbones. Face to face, the palms of their far hands pressed together as though they were challenging each other even as they meant to seduce the camera. They changed clothes, Chanyeol taking shots alone until Jongin entered again. Chanyeol pretended to straighten Jongin’s tie, smirking at him, and an uncomfortable shiver went through him. He took a deep breath before looking back at the camera, hoping he could even begin to hide what had just run through his head. Something that was raw and heated, and got no easier to push away as Chanyeol pressed closer, forced him to pour every ounce of professionalism he possessed into his face for the camera. They were showcasing the clothes, not anything else.
“Push him up against the wall, yeah really push him up there,” Baekhyun called.
Jongin’s hand was on Chanyeol’s collarbone, shoving him up against the wall and holding him. Only the distance between their bodies kept him from imagining them rutting right there, at least until he met Chanyeol’s dark-lined eyes. There was triumph there, like he’d been trying to get a rise out of Jongin all along.
And the anger that Jongin directed at the camera a moment later was far from fake.
***
They were chased away for two women to take their place, Baekhyun appearing briefly to thank them, touching Jongin’s arm, before he fled back to the photographer.
“He really liked you,” Chanyeol said, as Jongin was helped out of the elaborate shirt he’d been wearing. “I knew he would.”
Jongin grunted his acknowledgement, pulling his own shirt over his head and reaching for his pants.
But Chanyeol got to them first, picking up his pants, and grabbing Jongin’s arm. He let himself be pulled, not dragged, to a nearby office, an office that Chanyeol locked them into.
“If he gets a runway show, I bet he’ll call you,” Chanyeol said. “Can you imagine walking out in those clothes? Or a national campaign. Baekhyun’ll get there one day.”
As he spoke, his thumb was tracing Jongin’s arm, every word bringing him closer. Maybe he was slow sometimes, but he knew better maybe because he’d been caught by Chanyeol’s voice before. And the closer he got, the deeper and softer his voice got. And Jongin didn’t think that was to protect his delicate ears.
“Are you trying to seduce me with job offers?”
Chanyeol laughed. “No. Baekhyun is my friend, but I don’t work for him. I wouldn’t be doing this if I was your boss, but… That shoot I got to direct, I liked how you worked. I thought you’d be good to shoot with me, and you were.”
“You didn’t even see the pictures.”
“Don’t need to,” Chanyeol said, dismissing it and making Jongin scowl. “A lot of people get in the shot with me and they wilt. They don’t challenge me. You pushed back the whole time, and the camera loves that. People are going to see sex and they’re going to see power, and they’ll buy Baekhyun’s clothes because they want both.”
There wasn’t anything he could do to argue against that. He suspected there would be stunning photos out of the shoot. But Chanyeol was right, that there had been no chance of Jongin backing down to Chanyeol. He was willing to give if he was directed to, and maybe in his life outside modeling he wasn’t so bold, but when he was in front of the camera he was on. And there was nothing Chanyeol could do to back him down from that.
“We’ll see,” Jongin said.
“You can’t go.”
Chanyeol’s eyes were on his lips, and Jongin shifted.
“No. You have my pants.”
He laughed, because Chanyeol looked down as though he’d forgotten he was holding a pair of jeans. And then he wasn’t, because they dropped to their feet, and Chanyeol’s hand had slid onto his lower back.
“Not going to give here either,” Jongin warned.
“Yeah,” Chanyeol said, the word a warm puff against Jongin’s mouth.
He nudged up into the kiss Chanyeol offered, a wide mouth, almost clumsy with it. Not that he could speak, as Chanyeol had to keep him from being rocked backwards.
Chanyeol’s thumb ran down Jongin’s cheek and he grinned. “Our pictures are going to be great.”
The grins against each other’s mouths turned into kisses, kisses into something more like challenges, attempting to one-up each other. A battle of lips, just one where no one got hurt.
Or not much, as Chanyeol’s fingers dug into his hip. He wondered if Chanyeol’s moans were as seductive as his voice was, bellying up against Chanyeol’s body. It got him what he wanted, the beginnings of a moan, and he worked his fingertips against Chanyeol’s throat, sucking at his lips, urging Chanyeol in.
And he moaned again after Chanyeol’s pants dropped, Kai’s hand gripping Chanyeol’s thigh. He hit the desk, pulling Chanyeol into him, finally stable, finally with something to brace against. Too high from the push and pull of the shoot, too turned on by the moment, he felt like he was grasping at control. He didn’t want too fast, and fast was all they were getting, gasping against Chanyeol’s mouth. It wasn’t pretty. It didn’t have to be. He imagined Chanyeol’s eyes, dark, spread out over some bed sheet for Jongin to climb over.
“No cameras here now,” Jongin said, and that only made Chanyeol moan, moving to kiss Jongin’s neck as his hips met Jongin’s quick, stuttering. And as Chanyeol hissed against Jongin’s skin, Jongin used Chanyeol’s body to get off himself.
He breathed in Chanyeol’s shoulder. Sweat. Heat. The wafting scent of sex. Chanyeol’s head rubbing against his, like a contented cat.
“Can I have your number?” Chanyeol asked.
Jongin fought to not roll his eyes, amused.. “Yeah. You can.”
***
Prompt: femslash Luhan/Yixing - domestic, maybe a little smutty
***
Yixing’s favorite mornings were quiet weekend ones, when they had no plans and they slept as long as they wanted, getting up groggy and hungry. Lu Han, in all her tactful glory, usually demanded pancakes, but at least she helped. Helped as in got out of bed, boosted herself up onto the counter in her tiny shorts and bunny rabbit tank top, pink-painted toes tapping to whatever music was in her head. She’d dyed her hair some kind of soft, warm brown so she looked a bit like a fawn with it curling against her cheek and neck.
And she’d smack Yixing for sure if Yixing had compared her to a deer out loud. That had nearly been a requirement when they’d started dating: no deer jokes. But having Lu Han on the counter was easier than other nights, when Lu Han got up in her space asking questions and talking about her day and stealing kisses. It was hard to cook when she had a woman wrapped around her from behind trying to steal food.
But even if she complained, she preferred those nights and how close they felt to when Lu Han retreated, needing her time alone to just be. They were still figuring out how to work around that. But no, Lu Han was sunshine, always. Spicy sunshine.
“What are you thinking about?” Lu Han asked, sounding wary. Her face was sweet, but that was only when what was behind it was still a mystery.
“How you might want your eggs,” Yixing murmured, lips twitching.
Scrambled, dry, with some kind of weird spicy concoction Lu Han had fallen in love with. She’d made breakfast often enough to know. She was fairly certain that if she’d have allowed it, Lu Han would’ve tried seeing what that spicy goop tasted like on her, and that was just not happening, ever. It was red, and they’d never be able get it off the sheets, but being smeared in chilies and vegetables didn’t equate to sexy.
Not even when Lu Han was leering at her.
***
TV watching was sport, and Yixing didn’t just mean when there was a soccer match either on TV or online, when Lu Han got dressed up in violent colors and cursed copiously at the screen, telling anyone who’d listen - no one she was looking at- what they were doing wrong and how to correct it. Sometimes she stood up, as though she could actually catapult herself there, to either give them a piece of her mind or shove them out of the way and do it herself.
In those moments, Lu Han was more fascinating to watch than the game itself. Even if she hadn’t had an interest in it, Lu Han’s sheer passion would have swept her along. It was fun to have that to share, plus it meant either getting to console Lu Han after, or, well, celebrate with her. That was best. All that excitement had to be burned off some way.
Choosing what to watch otherwise though ended in compromises, and they traded off days and weeks, showering before the TV went on and sometimes cuddling. Sometimes Lu Han dragged her out before she could dry her hair, urging Yixing to lean against her on the footstool, so that Lu Han could run a comb or brush gently through her hair. The smell of conditioner, and Lu Han’s gentle fingers, never failed to make her melt into the touch.
Lu Han was stronger, so much stronger, than most people thought. It wasn’t as though Yixing was weak, and she didn’t really consider herself to be. But her strengths were in a different area than Lu Han’s. People who saw Lu Han’s stubborn jaw come out when Yixing was being defended had no idea what they were in for. From the very beginning, when Lu Han had put an arm around her shoulder and declared they should meet up sometime, it had been that way. And she rested her cheek against Lu Han’s palm and felt so loved and cared for.
***
She had been the one to kiss Lu Han first, and that was a fact that made her smile before sleeping sometimes. Maybe it had been cliche, on some kind of sugar-high, but leaning in to kiss the chocolate mousse, bitter and rich, from Lu Han’s lips had been the best decision she thought she’d made in years. Especially because of the way Lu Han’d eyes had widened, mouth dropping open in shock. Lu Han’s face was not subtle, and certainly not then when she’d poked a finger into Yixing’s dimple and just kept staring wordlessly.
She liked making Lu Han speechless.
She liked the times in their bed, the press of Lu Han’s thigh between hers, lips against her neck. She would have quipped about how much nicer it was in a bed than random other places, but instead she gasped at the tingle down her spine as Lu Han rubbed her side. The barest tease of Lu Han’s fingers against her nipples sent heat through her.
The way Lu Han loved her body, not just for what she could see or feel, but the way Lu Han touched her. Reverence and hunger in the molding of her fingers, the press of her lips. Security, in the sound she made as Lu Han’s eyes met hers, teeth sliding off her lower lip. Lu Han had mastered teasing, a science of her own, in the way her fingertips skimmed Yixing’s thighs, teeth tracing the curve of her breasts. Lu Han loved to feel her jerk and tremble. There was nothing more seductive than having all of Lu Han’s focus on her, or when she demanded all of Yixing’s in return.
Once, they had returned from a night out, Lu Han’s lips stained dark. When Yixing had woken, she could see the abstract trails on her skin, a love letter in lipstick, from the first clear lip print on her neck, to the last faint smudge at her hip. That had been the first nude picture she’d ever let Lu Han take, when she’d wanted proof of her…artistry.
The slide of Lu Han’s hair made her shiver. Even with her eyes closed, Lu Han kept no secrets, blunt tips tracing her stomach, or thighs, or neck - even if that earned her shudders. The teasing little smirk Lu Han got that grew into a smile, and the way she bit her bottom lip as she teased Yixing’s skin. It made her kisses cool to the touch. Her breath could only stutter at the press of Lu Han’s tongue inside her. The pleased little sounds that Lu Han made, enjoying herself and the way Yixing reacted. Her widening thighs, a plea, and the grip she took on Lu Han’s hand. Slow and deliberate, it made her throb, beg, body clutching even as she licked her lips as though she could taste Lu Han on them.
A soft sound as two of Lu Han’s slender fingers replaced her tongue. A different feeling. More solid, deeper.
She felt like if she didn’t come soon, her body was just going to politely set aflame.
“Lu Han!” Stop teasing. I’m begging you.
The press of her tongue, wet kisses, nibbles, the slide of lips. Lu Han’s fingers curled and stroked, and it felt like everything inside her wound tighter. It drew straight up through her, lungs almost stopping as she grasped at the edges of pleasure. Fumbling fingertips and widened thighs. Heat, too much of it, more, until she fell, singed and throbbing with it.
Lu Han crawled up her body, pressing against her and wiggling as she pressed soft kisses to Yixing’s mouth.
“Felt like a good one,” Lu Han said, possibly the slightest bit smug. Competitive. Always competitive.
Lu Han shrieked as Yixing rolled over her, laughter muffled in Lu Han’s neck as Lu Han tried to get her legs around her. Laughter, breathless laughter as she kissed Lu Han, felt her beg in the tightening of her hands on Yixing’s sides. But she pulled away, watching Lu Han’s pretty mouth. Lu Han was already making noises, biting at the corner of her crumpled shirt, and all Yixing was doing was teasing her stomach with her fingers. Having the shirt was probably a good thing.
There was one other thing that Lu Han didn’t know how to be: quiet.
***
“Bacon,” Lu Han murmured sleepily, somewhere around Yixing’s temple so she didn’t get kicked for breathing on Yixing’s neck.
Yixing opened her eyes and stared at the mirror on the far wall. “What?”
“Make bacon with breakfast tomorrow?”
There was maybe a tinge of cute in that plea/demand and Yixing was covered by the wave of it.
“Oh,” Yixing teased. “I thought you were somehow thanking bacon for sleeping with you.”
Lu Han snorted, such a… pleasant feeling against the side of her head.
“Yixing and bacon, I love them both.”
Yixing stroked Lu Han’s arm and said, “I love you too.” Because there was no joking about that.
***
Prompt: older woman BoA teaching Sehun how to kiss/seducing her with his innocence
***
Sehun was a curious person. Sometimes he had a flat stare, others his face scrunched in laughter. He had a quiet voice, a man’s jaw, and was a conundrum. Boa was glad she hadn’t known him as a teenager, because knowing him when he was twenty and working and going to college was a thing all its own. A friend of friend, he was, sneaking into their booths after he was off shift in the coffee shop he worked at. He beamed at her when she bought him food on the street, going supernova from the attention, and she really had no idea what to make of that. He was a nice kid. And for the longest time, a good three months, that was all he was to her.
Until The Day, as it were. When Sehun pulled her aside with a nervous laugh clicking in his throat, not even able to meet her eyes.
“I had a question,” he said, coughing into his fist for a second before frowning deeply. “I. Yes. I had a question. About girls.”
It was almost a question in itself, as though he wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask what he was asking, tripping over his words and staring at her shoulder. She was both amused, and slightly taken aback. If guys Sehun’s age were asking her for advice, then she wondered how old he saw her as.
“What about them?” she asked, touching his forearm. A mistake, the way he jerked.
“I don’t know how to kiss,” he confessed. And for a moment Boa was confused.
Until she realized he was asking her to teach him.
***
There were no classmates he liked, and he swore that up and down to her. He’d also kissed girls before, but he had apprehensions about his skill, were he to find someone he really liked. She pulled that out of him syllable by syllable, and wondered how she’d ever said yes except for his quiet “please.”
She wasn’t dating, so there was no impediment there. Teaching someone to kiss didn’t seem as though it would be a hardship, even if she’d never done so before.
To have privacy, she chose her own apartment. She was covered throat to ankle, and clapped her hands on his shoulders like a tutor. A few moments waggling him to and fro worked some of the glazed tension out of his body and face.
“Relax, this is supposed to be fun,” she told him, and his smile was timid bordering on cheeky.
She had a whole lecture planned in her head, very wise and enlightening. Some people learned by trying, others by listening, so she was going to do both.
“Every person is different,” she said, taking his hands and lifting them to either side of her face. “Some are going to feel closed in if you do this. Some are going to feel protected. Some will want gentleness, or boldness, and sometimes both at the same time. Some are still figuring out what they want. A kiss has two people involved, and you’re trying to please yourself, too, but also her. And that means backing off if she says, and listening to what she wants.”
“Okay,” he said, and it seemed like he was taking it in, getting it. A little. It was a lot to take in. It had to be done, and felt. She didn’t know hardly anyone who’d been a great kisser from the first moment.
"You have to pay attention to the person you're kissing, how they're reacting. Otherwise all you're kissing is a face."
His eyes were on her mouth and she wondered again if she was the person he should be going to for life lessons. He was a college student, and she was not. He should’ve been having terrible kisses with a girl from his classes. He probably didn’t even know what he could do to girls with those looks of his, if he tried.
“What do you like?” he asked.
Though as he licked his lips and met her eyes, she wondered just how unaware he was.
Maybe it’d help if he wasn’t quite so cute. She had no more words, though, and all that was left was for her push herself up and kiss him. She pressed her lips to his first, almost in demonstration, letting him savor it, and get over his surprise. They didn’t have to break each other’s faces or eat them. But one touch, and he was frantic, pressing back against her as though she was going to go away, some press of lips, and teeth, and tongue that just said how much he wanted. She’d expected to deal with that, turning her head for him, trying to show him with pressure, waiting until he started listening to her, started giving.
“Easy,” she whispered, stroking his sides. And it did not make it easier to stay detached. He treated her mouth like it was a treasure, tracing her lips, sucking them between his own, using his hands to gently tilt her head so their lips could meet and press. It was somewhere between gentle and bold, kisses he took control of, and let her guide him.
When the kiss broke, she felt dizzy, having lost track of time and how long they’d been standing there trading soft kisses, insistent kisses.
“What about tongue?” he stumbled out, half meeting her eyes and trying to get one of his hands untangled out of her hair.
“Well, that’s not-“ She took a breath. Tried to gather her thoughts. “Not too much. You’re not actually trying to eat someone when you do it. Some prefer it gentle, and it can get messy and gross if you’re not careful. It depends on who you’re kissing.”
“Can we…?”
His voice sounded almost hoarse, shifting his weight and staring at her cheekbone.
Shouldn’t. Could. Those were the two thoughts in her head. Couldn’t hurt, but most certainly could.
It wasn’t the “shouldn’t” part that had her lifting her arms to wrap them around his neck, almost inviting him to pull her close. His smile went lightning bright, pressing messy kisses against her before remembering what he’d asked for. She made him work for it, made him explore, felt him gasp at the first touch of her tongue, and felt him moan when she let him explore her mouth.
In between all that earnestness, that studiousness, that naked want, she found her own. It was a dark throb inside her, gasping again as his hand massaged the back of her head and urged her tongue with his. It was kissing for want of kissing, for enjoyment of it, and she could not lie to herself of that. His body was sturdy, mouth warm and eager, and everything about him in that moment called to her.
“Noona,” he moaned against her mouth and she had the fight the shiver, and the need.
His arm behind her back bent her closer, his thigh pressing between hers, and she realized he was hard. Not surprising, not at all. But it made her head spin as she pulled back, putting her fingers to his chin when he tried to follow.
“Remember. You have to listen to the person you’re kissing,” she said, and he looked chagrined.
“Sorry,” he said, through lips pink from their kisses.
His hold on her had gentled, but he hadn’t let her go. She was still pressed up against him.
It was too easy to imagine pressing him back on the couch. She’d be lucky if he lasted two minutes. She’d be luckier still if she got to come, or if he wasn’t adverse to being shown how he could help someone else out.
And if she wasn’t careful, she was going to burst into flames herself, right there against his leg.
He dipped his head, waiting until he knew she wasn’t going to push him away, and kissed her again. Almost inviting her to get closer, to re-engage. And she wondered if he’d hoped for more all along. If he’d wondered if getting her to teach him how to kiss was a gateway, and if she couldn’t just stop teaching him at that when she knew he had so much more to experience. Like teaching someone the first letter of the alphabet and going no further.
But not that day. Everything in her was telling her to ease back.
“Why did you want me to teach you to kiss, Sehun?” she asked, and watched his head drop, lips pressed together. “You can tell me. You said there wasn’t a girl you liked.”
Sehun shook his head. “No one…else. Just you.”
Dating him and teaching him to kiss were a couple of mutually exclusive things. But it was maybe something worth exploring.
“Then I think you owe me coffee,” she said, poking into his shoulder.
Sehun’s expression went from slightly sulky, slightly sad, to surprise, to something else entirely. His head fell back, throat working, breath leaving him on little gasps of laughter.
And that, she thought, had been the right choice.
***
Prompt: Kris and Lay on a date to club and Dark Confident Tao be like all up on them asking if they want a good time + ending
***
“Someone’s watching you,” Kris said against his ear.
“Just me?”
It was hard to imagine someone watching just him, considering Kris was against his back, and Yixing’s arms curved up above his head and around Kris’s neck. He liked it face to face better, but there were certain advantages to having Kris behind him, like the way he could move his hips, feeling Kris against him, the harshness of his breathing, the inevitable press of his need - something no one but him could feel or see.
But Yixing looked up, biting his lower lip as he took in sleek arms out of a body-hugging black leather vest. His hair was dark, eyes darker as he watched them. He looked like he was ready to pounce. They’d had people dance with them before, of course. Pressing up to grind against one or both of them, wandering hands and drunken compliments.
Yixing inhaled, both of Kris’s hands sweeping down his chest as he rolled his body. Showing him off and teasing at the same time. His shirt rode up as Kris stroked under it, up his belly, until he moaned as Kris rolled a nipple between his fingers.
“Look,” Kris said.
The man in black was closer, staring from Yixing’s belly, up his body.
Yixing turned his head, waiting, and Kris nipped his ear in encouragement.
And Yixing let down his arms, and held them out.
His arms went around the man’s neck, and hands gripped Kris’s hips, pulling the three of them together. His head fell back on Kris’s shoulder as an erection rubbed against his, and Kris’s pressed against him from behind.
“What’s your name?” Yixing asked. Might as well know, since they were getting all personal.
“I’m Tao,” the man said.
Tall, lips curving as he looked from Kris to Yixing. And he was being rocked between them still when Tao’s lips slid over his. Kris arm, still around him, went tighter, as Tao kissed Kris as well. His cock pulsed, watching their tongues twine together, and Kris’s hips told Yixing that Kris was as turned on by it as he was. Their lips were wet when they parted, and Tao looked back to him. It was wordless, that question, the flicker of Tao’s eyes down his face. And his mouth was open before Tao could kiss him, an answer in the same manner. It was nothing different than what he’d expected, Kris’s shoulder providing the perfect leverage for Tao to press against him, the first soft kiss melting through him. But it didn’t stay soft, tongue flickering against his, a tease, in stark contrast to the rolling of their hips.
He felt like he was having sex, upright, in public, startled that his clothes had not dissolved from his skin. He had never been so hard, so close to losing control in public. And he moaned, as Tao bit at Kris’s lip, something savage and primal as they stared at each other. And their hips never stopped.
He wondered if he was a substitute for savaging each other, or if their challenge was over him. But he couldn’t think, because they didn’t stop.
He couldn’t catch his breath, couldn’t find control, buffeted between two bodies, two complimentary rhythms. It was friction that didn’t quit, heat that built up until he was sweating, gasping, his arms around Tao’s neck no longer a tease but anchor as Kris pushed him firmly forward even as Tao pushed him back. His moan was endless, rising, falling, trapped in his throat as Kris sucked his earlobe and twisted both his nipples and he was suspended between them as heat exploded through him. He came with a total stranger rutting against him, watching him. And they moved until he begged them to stop, gasping and wrung out as he leaned back, needing Kris’s touch.
With Kris’s jaw against his temple, Tao petted his sides. They kept him upright, kept his knees locked.
And he watched through a haze of lust that was still unfulfilled as Tao pulled Kris’s head forward, speaking loud enough so that Yixing could hear.
“I want to suck you. I want to see him come all over you.”
And the way Kris moaned, Yixing knew they were lost.
***
Kris sat between them on the taxi ride. He breathed into Kris’s collarbone, watching with fascinated eyes at the hand Tao had spread over Kris’s thigh, and the one Kris had squeezed over Tao’s in return. They’d had a moment near the club door, half a dozen words traded, words like “Sure?” “Okay” “Let’s go.”
It was not what they had gone out for, but it was also not something they were turning away. It wasn’t the first time they’d brought someone else home, but it was the first of someone being so…impossible to ignore.
And with Kris’s hand in his lower back, it was Yixing who undid the snaps down Tao’s chest, inch by inch of perfect skin, toned and warm beneath his fingers. As the cloth fell, Yixing’s thumbs brushed over Tao’s nipples, hearing him moan, his hips swaying. They traded places, Kris manhandling the belt open, undoing the buttons down Tao’s fly.
He left them there like that, kissing, Kris’s hand in Tao’s pants and rubbing him - and when he’d cleaned himself up from the mess he’d made at the club, Kris was already on his back on the bed, naked, and Yixing sagged for a moment against the doorframe as Kris drew out Tao’s cock and stroked it. He swallowed hard, licking his lips as he pulled out condoms, lube. It dropped beside Kris’s hip, startling him, and Yixing soothed that away with a kiss. They shared a smile - a pleased one. He hadn’t even begun to process as Tao nipped a condom from his fingers, and Kris rumbled as it was rolled on.
It was the first thing he’d done with Kris, two years of knowing each other and then he was on his knees and moaning because Kris’s hands were urging him to suck faster. Tao, it seemed, was not one to tease, sliding his lips around Kris and getting twin moans from them both. Yixing couldn’t even feel it, but watching was enough, pressing kisses to Kris’s shoulder and feeling his body stir at the beauty of it, the way Kris shifted as Tao’s wet fingers began to tease him from the inside.
“He likes being stroked, too,” Yixing told him.
Yixing squirmed, hands tight in the pillow he was clutching as he watched Kris’s hips try not to lift as Tao swallowed him down whole. Yixing had never been able to take him that deep, and he was fascinated at the sight, Tao’s throaty moans and Kris’s face, frozen in some mask of reaction. Pleasure, straining not to move.
And especially so, as Tao’s head lifted, leaving Kris on the edge. And Yixing’s breath caught as Tao looked him over, biting his lip as he admired Tao’s body as well. Closer, Yixing rose, all but melting into him as Tao kissed him.
“Do you fuck him?” Tao asked against his jaw.
Yixing nodded. “Yeah.”
“I want to, too. Do it while he gets me ready?”
It was almost a demand as much as it was a suggestion, and the heat of it swirled in him.
Kris was hard, his condom-covered cock dark and curved with arousal. They had moment to meet each other’s eyes before Tao’s body was between them. He watched, fumbling with a condom himself, as Tao took one another.
And as Kris’s body took him easily, and he watched with sagging jaw as Tao’s thighs spread, offering Kris his cock. He couldn’t even see, but the sounds were obscene, Kris’s moans, Tao’s encouragements - yeah, suck just like that, you’re taking me good, such a pretty mouth - and the sound of greedy sucking. Kris’s hands were on Tao’s hips, and Yixing watched Tao’s ass flex as he thrust into Kris’s mouth.
He wanted to see. He was almost whining as he slid into Kris’s body to the time of Tao’s hips. He wanted to push Tao aside and come in Kris’s mouth. And a minute more, he would have come anyway. But Tao pushed up onto his knees and stood, erection jutting up, the condom wet from Kris’s mouth, and Kris’s lips red and worried from the friction.
It took only a hand on Yixing’s shoulder and he abandoned the warmth of Kris’s body, moving and watching as Tao pulled at Kris, pulling him onto his knees.
“I hope you like this, too,” Tao said, and as he bent over Kris’s back, he sank deep into Kris’s ass.
Kris moaned, braced on the bed. Not a sound of pain but fulfillment. Yixing could see his cock bobbing underneath of him, wanted to touch, but Tao looked at him, at Yixing’s own erection.
“Why don’t you suck him?” Tao told Kris, soft voice, softer instruction. “Don’t make him come, though. Just keep him hard.”
Yixing stripped himself of the condom, breath hitching as Kris parting his thighs and got him wet, teased him with his tongue and his lips. On his back, he could watch Tao and the fluid movements of his body as he took Kris. He felt the moans against him, and the strangled sound as Tao reached under and let Kris fuck into his hand. And Tao pulled Kris back as Yixing’s back arched, gasping, close.
“Not yet,” Tao said, and Yixing panted as he watched Kris rock back into Tao’s thrusts to get more, and more. He contorted himself so he could kiss Kris’s face, reddened lips, stroking through his hair, over his neck. And his eyes, focused on Yixing, went blank as he came, his face driving into Yixing’s shoulder. Tao was grinning, his arm pumping as he jerked Kris through his orgasm. And Yixing nearly shuddered as Tao pulled out, still hard - Tao hadn’t come. Yet still, he threw the condom away, rolling on a new one, and Yixing gently helped Kris onto his back so he could relax away from any wet he’d created.
And his hand tangled with Kris’s, as Tao pressed kisses across the back of Yixing’s shoulders. Kris moved their fingers, stroking them along Yixing’s erection, and he breathed out as Tao worked inside of him.
“I wanted both of you,” Tao breathed against his neck, making him gasp and turn his head.
“Don’t breathe there,” Kris said. “Or he’ll be more likely to knee you in the balls.”
“Can I touch?” Tao asked.
Yixing head bobbed, a sound from his throat as Tao kissed down his neck. There was still an element there that made him squirm, but the wet, warm touch of Tao’s tongue had him gasping in more ways than one.
His cheek met Tao’s, rearing his head back and rubbing against him, remembering the look of him taking Kris, knowing that was about to be him.
And he kissed Kris’s hand, held it to his lips, half to connect them, half to control himself as Tao’s cock slid into him again. His thighs struggled wider, planting his hand, his knees, steadied by Kris’s hand and Tao’s arm around his ribs. Being filled and still hard had his body flushing, an ache he wanted filled. He stared at Kris’s lips and wanted to kiss them, wanted to slip inside them. The way that Kris’s tongue could lick at his cock, delicate and bold by turn, aggressive suction and gentle glides.
He thought Tao was going to give that to him as they moved forward, still joined. If Kris just moved, lifted his head-
Yixing braced himself on the wall, Kris’s hand on his thigh, Tao’s moving wet along his cock. Clever lifts of his hips leaving Yixing gasping, moving into Tao’s hand in desperation, watching Kris through eyes that were nearly tearing with the edge of pleasure cutting through him.
“Is he yours?”
Yixing wasn’t sure which of them Tao was asking, words caught inside him as he stared at Kris.
He cried out “yes!” just a breath before Kris, and Tao stroked him faster, the sound of slick strokes, Kris’s wide and hungry eyes, Tao’s relentless hips.
“Oh,” he moaned. An again. And again. And his whole body shuddered, his come falling against Kris’s cheek, his chin, his neck.
His body gave one last pulse a Tao’s teeth dug into his shoulder, and Tao came inside him.
Kris was reaching for him, even before Tao pulled away, before he whined a bit. He breathed into Kris’s collarbone, stretching out muscle by muscle until his knees were no longer under him. It was only after a tissue fluttered onto Kris’s chest in front of his face, and Tao rested behind him, that he realized there was a mess to clean. He wet the tissue with his mouth, and did not think but knew that Kris looked good marked by him. It was impermanent, and Kris smiled at him as his come was mostly wiped away.
He turned his head, intending to give Tao his appreciation, but Tao’s eyes were closed, mouth parted. So Yixing smiled, nuzzling into Kris’s shoulder, and let himself rest.
***
Yixing woke to the sound of wet, and touch. An arm was over his shoulder, a hand cupping his balls, thumb rubbing until he was getting hard from the friction. He tilted his head and saw the reason for the rest, Tao’s lips sealed against Kris’s. He sighed, hardening against Tao’s fingers as he watched the seduction of kisses. It drew their attention, and he lifted his head, eager as Kris’s tongue slipped between his lips.
A condom was rolled onto him, and all he could do was hold onto Kris’s shoulders as Tao’s lips closed around him.
Eyes wide, gasping, staring at Kris as though asking if it was all right. And Kris kissed him, directed Yixing’s eyes with his chin. So he could watch.
So they both could.
It wasn’t a fantasy, being woken in the middle of the night with a light still on in the corner, a naked man between his legs and another stretched beside him. He almost lifted off the bed as Tao slid three fingers into him, moaning around him even as Yixing grasped at the covers, as little in control of his movements as he had ever been. As soon as Tao knew it wasn’t pain, Yixing was given no relief, the press of Tao’s fingers and his tongue, sound heaving into the air, squirming on the bed.
“Please. Please.”
Begging. Begging to come.
Until Tao’s fingers sped and his throat closed, and Yixing came with a whimper.
Kris pressed kisses to his face, Tao to his belly. He was still trembling with it when Tao nudged him, curled him, pushed his mouth down over Kris’s cock. Hard, aroused by the show he had just seen, warm and lovely against his tongue, he did his best to please Kris, only able to partly see as Tao fucked Kris’s mouth. Kris pulsed against his tongue not long before Tao threw back his head and moaned.
He wasn’t sure who helped him back up against Kris, only knowing that when he woke again, it was morning, and they were alone. The bed that Kris bent him over minutes later and took him against, smelled of sex, and Yixing had never come harder.
***
Yixing looked up from his desk at the sound of a throat clearing, eyes skimming quick up the sleek black suit and knotted red tie. And air caught in his throat at recognition, Tao’s lips curving.
“Kris,” he said, voice sounding foreign to his own ears. And Kris swiveled in his office chair.
“I wanted to introduce myself, since I’m starting today,” Tao said, bowing smoothly to both of them. “I hope we work well together.”
Kris met his eyes, and Yixing’s mind had still not caught up. All he could really do was laugh.
***
Bonus short ficlets.
Pairings: Chanyeol/Kai, girl!Lay/girl!Lu Han, Sehun/BoA, Tao/Kris/Lay
Rating: NC-17
Genre: AU, smut, members as girls
Warnings: sexual situations
Summary: Four mostly smutty request fics including models, girls, kisses, and smut.
Prompt: Jongin and Chanyeol - That voice whispering in Jongin's ear making him shiver.
***
Jongin closed his eyes, the racket of the peppy music attempting to keep everyone on set motivated was a small thud in the back of his head. He was trying to keep his eyes from watering after the makeup artist had nearly stabbed his eye with an eyeliner pencil, and he still had a full shoot ahead of him. As long as he didn’t sweat all over the expensive shirt he was in he’d be great, and if they hadn’t started taking pictures he might just have done that.
There was a photographer, a man he’d met earlier when he’d passed by the makeup station, and a man beside him at a table, watching a computer screen as every picture was being taken. He’d introduced himself as Chanyeol, helping to direct the shoot. It was for a commercial magazine, and Jongin cared because it was money in his pocket. He hadn’t counted on a sex voice from the other side of the lights, but hey.
“Purse your mouth a little, yeah, like that. Whoever put that eyeliner on you needs a raise,” Chanyeol said. “Okay, let’s try smiling instead of a pout.”
Jongin put Chanyeol’s voice out of his head, and instead went to his happy place, thinking of something that would make his smile genuine - and pretty - rather than the pasted on smiles he saw from others. Sometimes it was just laughing at himself, having to suppress a giggle remembering when he’d practiced it in front of Sehun and gotten a critical eye and approval just before Sehun had cracked up at the expression on his face.
Jongin ended up on the floor, reclined against prop pillows, and a knee pulled up. He shivered as a draft hit him, before composing his face.
“Challenging the camera, yeah,” Chanyeol said. “Just tilt your head like- Yeah! I think that’s it for Jongin.”
Before Jongin could even move, Chanyeol had rounded the table and offered his help. He stood, gripping Chanyeol’s hand, and looked up. And kept looking up even after he was on his feet. Oh. Tall.
He was startled as Chanyeol leaned in, glasses slipped down Chanyeol’s nose, revealing surprisingly intense eyes.
“You did great. We’ll want you again.”
Jongin’s eyebrows rose, but Chanyeol was already shouting and swinging his arm around in the air like a lasso, getting people to move.
***
“Again” ended up being almost a month later, a different gig altogether. They were for a fashion campaign, something bigger than Jongin had been involved in before. The company had nearly suggested Jongin show up the night before, because jobs like those didn’t come along very often. It was because of the magazine shoot, that was all they’d tell him. He knew he didn’t have to show up with anything special, just himself and energy for a day long shoot.
Somehow he was still surprised to see Chanyeol there, sitting by one of the makeup artists and chatting until he saw Jongin.
“A little early, great,” Chanyeol said, grinning. No glasses that day, and Jongin wasn’t sure if he was glad or not. The glasses were a distraction from Chanyeol’s face and his voice. And Chanyeol waved over someone else, the designer as it turned out. Byun Baekhyun. Jongin almost felt himself retreat, greeting politely and standing stiffly as Chanyeol laughed.
“Show me your walk?” Baekhyun said.
As soon as Jongin figured out how to coordinate his legs. It took a few steps to rid himself of the stiffness, letting his natural gait be emphasized.
“Good, right?” Chanyeol asked, smirking.
“Yeah, whatever,” Baekhyun said. And then to Jongin, “No, actually it’s great. He’s just being too smug about it, finding you for me.”
Chanyeol chortled, even after Baekhyun was called away.
“Have you modeled?” Jongin asked, taking in Chanyeol’s height again, and the messy long hair.
“Have. Am. We’ll be shooting together today, so be on point.”
Chanyeol waggled a finger at him that Jongin had the impulse to bite, before pivoting and leaving Jongin to get his face prepared.
But shooting with Chanyeol was unlike anything he’d expected. He’d seen Chanyeol the jokester, the director, but Chanyeol the model was something else entirely. It was like his whole body gave in some weird way, making odd shapes that Jongin knew would be fantastic on camera. The danger in shooting with another model was that one could take over the picture, leaving the other like a forgotten background. So Chanyeol’s warning to be on point was twofold, both so that Jongin would be present in the pictures, and also not to screw up and waste Chanyeol’s time.
They were back to back, listening to direction. Bright colors and elaborate styling. His hair was fluffed and swooping, Chanyeol’s pulled back to frame his cheekbones. Face to face, the palms of their far hands pressed together as though they were challenging each other even as they meant to seduce the camera. They changed clothes, Chanyeol taking shots alone until Jongin entered again. Chanyeol pretended to straighten Jongin’s tie, smirking at him, and an uncomfortable shiver went through him. He took a deep breath before looking back at the camera, hoping he could even begin to hide what had just run through his head. Something that was raw and heated, and got no easier to push away as Chanyeol pressed closer, forced him to pour every ounce of professionalism he possessed into his face for the camera. They were showcasing the clothes, not anything else.
“Push him up against the wall, yeah really push him up there,” Baekhyun called.
Jongin’s hand was on Chanyeol’s collarbone, shoving him up against the wall and holding him. Only the distance between their bodies kept him from imagining them rutting right there, at least until he met Chanyeol’s dark-lined eyes. There was triumph there, like he’d been trying to get a rise out of Jongin all along.
And the anger that Jongin directed at the camera a moment later was far from fake.
***
They were chased away for two women to take their place, Baekhyun appearing briefly to thank them, touching Jongin’s arm, before he fled back to the photographer.
“He really liked you,” Chanyeol said, as Jongin was helped out of the elaborate shirt he’d been wearing. “I knew he would.”
Jongin grunted his acknowledgement, pulling his own shirt over his head and reaching for his pants.
But Chanyeol got to them first, picking up his pants, and grabbing Jongin’s arm. He let himself be pulled, not dragged, to a nearby office, an office that Chanyeol locked them into.
“If he gets a runway show, I bet he’ll call you,” Chanyeol said. “Can you imagine walking out in those clothes? Or a national campaign. Baekhyun’ll get there one day.”
As he spoke, his thumb was tracing Jongin’s arm, every word bringing him closer. Maybe he was slow sometimes, but he knew better maybe because he’d been caught by Chanyeol’s voice before. And the closer he got, the deeper and softer his voice got. And Jongin didn’t think that was to protect his delicate ears.
“Are you trying to seduce me with job offers?”
Chanyeol laughed. “No. Baekhyun is my friend, but I don’t work for him. I wouldn’t be doing this if I was your boss, but… That shoot I got to direct, I liked how you worked. I thought you’d be good to shoot with me, and you were.”
“You didn’t even see the pictures.”
“Don’t need to,” Chanyeol said, dismissing it and making Jongin scowl. “A lot of people get in the shot with me and they wilt. They don’t challenge me. You pushed back the whole time, and the camera loves that. People are going to see sex and they’re going to see power, and they’ll buy Baekhyun’s clothes because they want both.”
There wasn’t anything he could do to argue against that. He suspected there would be stunning photos out of the shoot. But Chanyeol was right, that there had been no chance of Jongin backing down to Chanyeol. He was willing to give if he was directed to, and maybe in his life outside modeling he wasn’t so bold, but when he was in front of the camera he was on. And there was nothing Chanyeol could do to back him down from that.
“We’ll see,” Jongin said.
“You can’t go.”
Chanyeol’s eyes were on his lips, and Jongin shifted.
“No. You have my pants.”
He laughed, because Chanyeol looked down as though he’d forgotten he was holding a pair of jeans. And then he wasn’t, because they dropped to their feet, and Chanyeol’s hand had slid onto his lower back.
“Not going to give here either,” Jongin warned.
“Yeah,” Chanyeol said, the word a warm puff against Jongin’s mouth.
He nudged up into the kiss Chanyeol offered, a wide mouth, almost clumsy with it. Not that he could speak, as Chanyeol had to keep him from being rocked backwards.
Chanyeol’s thumb ran down Jongin’s cheek and he grinned. “Our pictures are going to be great.”
The grins against each other’s mouths turned into kisses, kisses into something more like challenges, attempting to one-up each other. A battle of lips, just one where no one got hurt.
Or not much, as Chanyeol’s fingers dug into his hip. He wondered if Chanyeol’s moans were as seductive as his voice was, bellying up against Chanyeol’s body. It got him what he wanted, the beginnings of a moan, and he worked his fingertips against Chanyeol’s throat, sucking at his lips, urging Chanyeol in.
And he moaned again after Chanyeol’s pants dropped, Kai’s hand gripping Chanyeol’s thigh. He hit the desk, pulling Chanyeol into him, finally stable, finally with something to brace against. Too high from the push and pull of the shoot, too turned on by the moment, he felt like he was grasping at control. He didn’t want too fast, and fast was all they were getting, gasping against Chanyeol’s mouth. It wasn’t pretty. It didn’t have to be. He imagined Chanyeol’s eyes, dark, spread out over some bed sheet for Jongin to climb over.
“No cameras here now,” Jongin said, and that only made Chanyeol moan, moving to kiss Jongin’s neck as his hips met Jongin’s quick, stuttering. And as Chanyeol hissed against Jongin’s skin, Jongin used Chanyeol’s body to get off himself.
He breathed in Chanyeol’s shoulder. Sweat. Heat. The wafting scent of sex. Chanyeol’s head rubbing against his, like a contented cat.
“Can I have your number?” Chanyeol asked.
Jongin fought to not roll his eyes, amused.. “Yeah. You can.”
***
Prompt: femslash Luhan/Yixing - domestic, maybe a little smutty
***
Yixing’s favorite mornings were quiet weekend ones, when they had no plans and they slept as long as they wanted, getting up groggy and hungry. Lu Han, in all her tactful glory, usually demanded pancakes, but at least she helped. Helped as in got out of bed, boosted herself up onto the counter in her tiny shorts and bunny rabbit tank top, pink-painted toes tapping to whatever music was in her head. She’d dyed her hair some kind of soft, warm brown so she looked a bit like a fawn with it curling against her cheek and neck.
And she’d smack Yixing for sure if Yixing had compared her to a deer out loud. That had nearly been a requirement when they’d started dating: no deer jokes. But having Lu Han on the counter was easier than other nights, when Lu Han got up in her space asking questions and talking about her day and stealing kisses. It was hard to cook when she had a woman wrapped around her from behind trying to steal food.
But even if she complained, she preferred those nights and how close they felt to when Lu Han retreated, needing her time alone to just be. They were still figuring out how to work around that. But no, Lu Han was sunshine, always. Spicy sunshine.
“What are you thinking about?” Lu Han asked, sounding wary. Her face was sweet, but that was only when what was behind it was still a mystery.
“How you might want your eggs,” Yixing murmured, lips twitching.
Scrambled, dry, with some kind of weird spicy concoction Lu Han had fallen in love with. She’d made breakfast often enough to know. She was fairly certain that if she’d have allowed it, Lu Han would’ve tried seeing what that spicy goop tasted like on her, and that was just not happening, ever. It was red, and they’d never be able get it off the sheets, but being smeared in chilies and vegetables didn’t equate to sexy.
Not even when Lu Han was leering at her.
***
TV watching was sport, and Yixing didn’t just mean when there was a soccer match either on TV or online, when Lu Han got dressed up in violent colors and cursed copiously at the screen, telling anyone who’d listen - no one she was looking at- what they were doing wrong and how to correct it. Sometimes she stood up, as though she could actually catapult herself there, to either give them a piece of her mind or shove them out of the way and do it herself.
In those moments, Lu Han was more fascinating to watch than the game itself. Even if she hadn’t had an interest in it, Lu Han’s sheer passion would have swept her along. It was fun to have that to share, plus it meant either getting to console Lu Han after, or, well, celebrate with her. That was best. All that excitement had to be burned off some way.
Choosing what to watch otherwise though ended in compromises, and they traded off days and weeks, showering before the TV went on and sometimes cuddling. Sometimes Lu Han dragged her out before she could dry her hair, urging Yixing to lean against her on the footstool, so that Lu Han could run a comb or brush gently through her hair. The smell of conditioner, and Lu Han’s gentle fingers, never failed to make her melt into the touch.
Lu Han was stronger, so much stronger, than most people thought. It wasn’t as though Yixing was weak, and she didn’t really consider herself to be. But her strengths were in a different area than Lu Han’s. People who saw Lu Han’s stubborn jaw come out when Yixing was being defended had no idea what they were in for. From the very beginning, when Lu Han had put an arm around her shoulder and declared they should meet up sometime, it had been that way. And she rested her cheek against Lu Han’s palm and felt so loved and cared for.
***
She had been the one to kiss Lu Han first, and that was a fact that made her smile before sleeping sometimes. Maybe it had been cliche, on some kind of sugar-high, but leaning in to kiss the chocolate mousse, bitter and rich, from Lu Han’s lips had been the best decision she thought she’d made in years. Especially because of the way Lu Han’d eyes had widened, mouth dropping open in shock. Lu Han’s face was not subtle, and certainly not then when she’d poked a finger into Yixing’s dimple and just kept staring wordlessly.
She liked making Lu Han speechless.
She liked the times in their bed, the press of Lu Han’s thigh between hers, lips against her neck. She would have quipped about how much nicer it was in a bed than random other places, but instead she gasped at the tingle down her spine as Lu Han rubbed her side. The barest tease of Lu Han’s fingers against her nipples sent heat through her.
The way Lu Han loved her body, not just for what she could see or feel, but the way Lu Han touched her. Reverence and hunger in the molding of her fingers, the press of her lips. Security, in the sound she made as Lu Han’s eyes met hers, teeth sliding off her lower lip. Lu Han had mastered teasing, a science of her own, in the way her fingertips skimmed Yixing’s thighs, teeth tracing the curve of her breasts. Lu Han loved to feel her jerk and tremble. There was nothing more seductive than having all of Lu Han’s focus on her, or when she demanded all of Yixing’s in return.
Once, they had returned from a night out, Lu Han’s lips stained dark. When Yixing had woken, she could see the abstract trails on her skin, a love letter in lipstick, from the first clear lip print on her neck, to the last faint smudge at her hip. That had been the first nude picture she’d ever let Lu Han take, when she’d wanted proof of her…artistry.
The slide of Lu Han’s hair made her shiver. Even with her eyes closed, Lu Han kept no secrets, blunt tips tracing her stomach, or thighs, or neck - even if that earned her shudders. The teasing little smirk Lu Han got that grew into a smile, and the way she bit her bottom lip as she teased Yixing’s skin. It made her kisses cool to the touch. Her breath could only stutter at the press of Lu Han’s tongue inside her. The pleased little sounds that Lu Han made, enjoying herself and the way Yixing reacted. Her widening thighs, a plea, and the grip she took on Lu Han’s hand. Slow and deliberate, it made her throb, beg, body clutching even as she licked her lips as though she could taste Lu Han on them.
A soft sound as two of Lu Han’s slender fingers replaced her tongue. A different feeling. More solid, deeper.
She felt like if she didn’t come soon, her body was just going to politely set aflame.
“Lu Han!” Stop teasing. I’m begging you.
The press of her tongue, wet kisses, nibbles, the slide of lips. Lu Han’s fingers curled and stroked, and it felt like everything inside her wound tighter. It drew straight up through her, lungs almost stopping as she grasped at the edges of pleasure. Fumbling fingertips and widened thighs. Heat, too much of it, more, until she fell, singed and throbbing with it.
Lu Han crawled up her body, pressing against her and wiggling as she pressed soft kisses to Yixing’s mouth.
“Felt like a good one,” Lu Han said, possibly the slightest bit smug. Competitive. Always competitive.
Lu Han shrieked as Yixing rolled over her, laughter muffled in Lu Han’s neck as Lu Han tried to get her legs around her. Laughter, breathless laughter as she kissed Lu Han, felt her beg in the tightening of her hands on Yixing’s sides. But she pulled away, watching Lu Han’s pretty mouth. Lu Han was already making noises, biting at the corner of her crumpled shirt, and all Yixing was doing was teasing her stomach with her fingers. Having the shirt was probably a good thing.
There was one other thing that Lu Han didn’t know how to be: quiet.
***
“Bacon,” Lu Han murmured sleepily, somewhere around Yixing’s temple so she didn’t get kicked for breathing on Yixing’s neck.
Yixing opened her eyes and stared at the mirror on the far wall. “What?”
“Make bacon with breakfast tomorrow?”
There was maybe a tinge of cute in that plea/demand and Yixing was covered by the wave of it.
“Oh,” Yixing teased. “I thought you were somehow thanking bacon for sleeping with you.”
Lu Han snorted, such a… pleasant feeling against the side of her head.
“Yixing and bacon, I love them both.”
Yixing stroked Lu Han’s arm and said, “I love you too.” Because there was no joking about that.
***
Prompt: older woman BoA teaching Sehun how to kiss/seducing her with his innocence
***
Sehun was a curious person. Sometimes he had a flat stare, others his face scrunched in laughter. He had a quiet voice, a man’s jaw, and was a conundrum. Boa was glad she hadn’t known him as a teenager, because knowing him when he was twenty and working and going to college was a thing all its own. A friend of friend, he was, sneaking into their booths after he was off shift in the coffee shop he worked at. He beamed at her when she bought him food on the street, going supernova from the attention, and she really had no idea what to make of that. He was a nice kid. And for the longest time, a good three months, that was all he was to her.
Until The Day, as it were. When Sehun pulled her aside with a nervous laugh clicking in his throat, not even able to meet her eyes.
“I had a question,” he said, coughing into his fist for a second before frowning deeply. “I. Yes. I had a question. About girls.”
It was almost a question in itself, as though he wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask what he was asking, tripping over his words and staring at her shoulder. She was both amused, and slightly taken aback. If guys Sehun’s age were asking her for advice, then she wondered how old he saw her as.
“What about them?” she asked, touching his forearm. A mistake, the way he jerked.
“I don’t know how to kiss,” he confessed. And for a moment Boa was confused.
Until she realized he was asking her to teach him.
***
There were no classmates he liked, and he swore that up and down to her. He’d also kissed girls before, but he had apprehensions about his skill, were he to find someone he really liked. She pulled that out of him syllable by syllable, and wondered how she’d ever said yes except for his quiet “please.”
She wasn’t dating, so there was no impediment there. Teaching someone to kiss didn’t seem as though it would be a hardship, even if she’d never done so before.
To have privacy, she chose her own apartment. She was covered throat to ankle, and clapped her hands on his shoulders like a tutor. A few moments waggling him to and fro worked some of the glazed tension out of his body and face.
“Relax, this is supposed to be fun,” she told him, and his smile was timid bordering on cheeky.
She had a whole lecture planned in her head, very wise and enlightening. Some people learned by trying, others by listening, so she was going to do both.
“Every person is different,” she said, taking his hands and lifting them to either side of her face. “Some are going to feel closed in if you do this. Some are going to feel protected. Some will want gentleness, or boldness, and sometimes both at the same time. Some are still figuring out what they want. A kiss has two people involved, and you’re trying to please yourself, too, but also her. And that means backing off if she says, and listening to what she wants.”
“Okay,” he said, and it seemed like he was taking it in, getting it. A little. It was a lot to take in. It had to be done, and felt. She didn’t know hardly anyone who’d been a great kisser from the first moment.
"You have to pay attention to the person you're kissing, how they're reacting. Otherwise all you're kissing is a face."
His eyes were on her mouth and she wondered again if she was the person he should be going to for life lessons. He was a college student, and she was not. He should’ve been having terrible kisses with a girl from his classes. He probably didn’t even know what he could do to girls with those looks of his, if he tried.
“What do you like?” he asked.
Though as he licked his lips and met her eyes, she wondered just how unaware he was.
Maybe it’d help if he wasn’t quite so cute. She had no more words, though, and all that was left was for her push herself up and kiss him. She pressed her lips to his first, almost in demonstration, letting him savor it, and get over his surprise. They didn’t have to break each other’s faces or eat them. But one touch, and he was frantic, pressing back against her as though she was going to go away, some press of lips, and teeth, and tongue that just said how much he wanted. She’d expected to deal with that, turning her head for him, trying to show him with pressure, waiting until he started listening to her, started giving.
“Easy,” she whispered, stroking his sides. And it did not make it easier to stay detached. He treated her mouth like it was a treasure, tracing her lips, sucking them between his own, using his hands to gently tilt her head so their lips could meet and press. It was somewhere between gentle and bold, kisses he took control of, and let her guide him.
When the kiss broke, she felt dizzy, having lost track of time and how long they’d been standing there trading soft kisses, insistent kisses.
“What about tongue?” he stumbled out, half meeting her eyes and trying to get one of his hands untangled out of her hair.
“Well, that’s not-“ She took a breath. Tried to gather her thoughts. “Not too much. You’re not actually trying to eat someone when you do it. Some prefer it gentle, and it can get messy and gross if you’re not careful. It depends on who you’re kissing.”
“Can we…?”
His voice sounded almost hoarse, shifting his weight and staring at her cheekbone.
Shouldn’t. Could. Those were the two thoughts in her head. Couldn’t hurt, but most certainly could.
It wasn’t the “shouldn’t” part that had her lifting her arms to wrap them around his neck, almost inviting him to pull her close. His smile went lightning bright, pressing messy kisses against her before remembering what he’d asked for. She made him work for it, made him explore, felt him gasp at the first touch of her tongue, and felt him moan when she let him explore her mouth.
In between all that earnestness, that studiousness, that naked want, she found her own. It was a dark throb inside her, gasping again as his hand massaged the back of her head and urged her tongue with his. It was kissing for want of kissing, for enjoyment of it, and she could not lie to herself of that. His body was sturdy, mouth warm and eager, and everything about him in that moment called to her.
“Noona,” he moaned against her mouth and she had the fight the shiver, and the need.
His arm behind her back bent her closer, his thigh pressing between hers, and she realized he was hard. Not surprising, not at all. But it made her head spin as she pulled back, putting her fingers to his chin when he tried to follow.
“Remember. You have to listen to the person you’re kissing,” she said, and he looked chagrined.
“Sorry,” he said, through lips pink from their kisses.
His hold on her had gentled, but he hadn’t let her go. She was still pressed up against him.
It was too easy to imagine pressing him back on the couch. She’d be lucky if he lasted two minutes. She’d be luckier still if she got to come, or if he wasn’t adverse to being shown how he could help someone else out.
And if she wasn’t careful, she was going to burst into flames herself, right there against his leg.
He dipped his head, waiting until he knew she wasn’t going to push him away, and kissed her again. Almost inviting her to get closer, to re-engage. And she wondered if he’d hoped for more all along. If he’d wondered if getting her to teach him how to kiss was a gateway, and if she couldn’t just stop teaching him at that when she knew he had so much more to experience. Like teaching someone the first letter of the alphabet and going no further.
But not that day. Everything in her was telling her to ease back.
“Why did you want me to teach you to kiss, Sehun?” she asked, and watched his head drop, lips pressed together. “You can tell me. You said there wasn’t a girl you liked.”
Sehun shook his head. “No one…else. Just you.”
Dating him and teaching him to kiss were a couple of mutually exclusive things. But it was maybe something worth exploring.
“Then I think you owe me coffee,” she said, poking into his shoulder.
Sehun’s expression went from slightly sulky, slightly sad, to surprise, to something else entirely. His head fell back, throat working, breath leaving him on little gasps of laughter.
And that, she thought, had been the right choice.
***
Prompt: Kris and Lay on a date to club and Dark Confident Tao be like all up on them asking if they want a good time + ending
***
“Someone’s watching you,” Kris said against his ear.
“Just me?”
It was hard to imagine someone watching just him, considering Kris was against his back, and Yixing’s arms curved up above his head and around Kris’s neck. He liked it face to face better, but there were certain advantages to having Kris behind him, like the way he could move his hips, feeling Kris against him, the harshness of his breathing, the inevitable press of his need - something no one but him could feel or see.
But Yixing looked up, biting his lower lip as he took in sleek arms out of a body-hugging black leather vest. His hair was dark, eyes darker as he watched them. He looked like he was ready to pounce. They’d had people dance with them before, of course. Pressing up to grind against one or both of them, wandering hands and drunken compliments.
Yixing inhaled, both of Kris’s hands sweeping down his chest as he rolled his body. Showing him off and teasing at the same time. His shirt rode up as Kris stroked under it, up his belly, until he moaned as Kris rolled a nipple between his fingers.
“Look,” Kris said.
The man in black was closer, staring from Yixing’s belly, up his body.
Yixing turned his head, waiting, and Kris nipped his ear in encouragement.
And Yixing let down his arms, and held them out.
His arms went around the man’s neck, and hands gripped Kris’s hips, pulling the three of them together. His head fell back on Kris’s shoulder as an erection rubbed against his, and Kris’s pressed against him from behind.
“What’s your name?” Yixing asked. Might as well know, since they were getting all personal.
“I’m Tao,” the man said.
Tall, lips curving as he looked from Kris to Yixing. And he was being rocked between them still when Tao’s lips slid over his. Kris arm, still around him, went tighter, as Tao kissed Kris as well. His cock pulsed, watching their tongues twine together, and Kris’s hips told Yixing that Kris was as turned on by it as he was. Their lips were wet when they parted, and Tao looked back to him. It was wordless, that question, the flicker of Tao’s eyes down his face. And his mouth was open before Tao could kiss him, an answer in the same manner. It was nothing different than what he’d expected, Kris’s shoulder providing the perfect leverage for Tao to press against him, the first soft kiss melting through him. But it didn’t stay soft, tongue flickering against his, a tease, in stark contrast to the rolling of their hips.
He felt like he was having sex, upright, in public, startled that his clothes had not dissolved from his skin. He had never been so hard, so close to losing control in public. And he moaned, as Tao bit at Kris’s lip, something savage and primal as they stared at each other. And their hips never stopped.
He wondered if he was a substitute for savaging each other, or if their challenge was over him. But he couldn’t think, because they didn’t stop.
He couldn’t catch his breath, couldn’t find control, buffeted between two bodies, two complimentary rhythms. It was friction that didn’t quit, heat that built up until he was sweating, gasping, his arms around Tao’s neck no longer a tease but anchor as Kris pushed him firmly forward even as Tao pushed him back. His moan was endless, rising, falling, trapped in his throat as Kris sucked his earlobe and twisted both his nipples and he was suspended between them as heat exploded through him. He came with a total stranger rutting against him, watching him. And they moved until he begged them to stop, gasping and wrung out as he leaned back, needing Kris’s touch.
With Kris’s jaw against his temple, Tao petted his sides. They kept him upright, kept his knees locked.
And he watched through a haze of lust that was still unfulfilled as Tao pulled Kris’s head forward, speaking loud enough so that Yixing could hear.
“I want to suck you. I want to see him come all over you.”
And the way Kris moaned, Yixing knew they were lost.
***
Kris sat between them on the taxi ride. He breathed into Kris’s collarbone, watching with fascinated eyes at the hand Tao had spread over Kris’s thigh, and the one Kris had squeezed over Tao’s in return. They’d had a moment near the club door, half a dozen words traded, words like “Sure?” “Okay” “Let’s go.”
It was not what they had gone out for, but it was also not something they were turning away. It wasn’t the first time they’d brought someone else home, but it was the first of someone being so…impossible to ignore.
And with Kris’s hand in his lower back, it was Yixing who undid the snaps down Tao’s chest, inch by inch of perfect skin, toned and warm beneath his fingers. As the cloth fell, Yixing’s thumbs brushed over Tao’s nipples, hearing him moan, his hips swaying. They traded places, Kris manhandling the belt open, undoing the buttons down Tao’s fly.
He left them there like that, kissing, Kris’s hand in Tao’s pants and rubbing him - and when he’d cleaned himself up from the mess he’d made at the club, Kris was already on his back on the bed, naked, and Yixing sagged for a moment against the doorframe as Kris drew out Tao’s cock and stroked it. He swallowed hard, licking his lips as he pulled out condoms, lube. It dropped beside Kris’s hip, startling him, and Yixing soothed that away with a kiss. They shared a smile - a pleased one. He hadn’t even begun to process as Tao nipped a condom from his fingers, and Kris rumbled as it was rolled on.
It was the first thing he’d done with Kris, two years of knowing each other and then he was on his knees and moaning because Kris’s hands were urging him to suck faster. Tao, it seemed, was not one to tease, sliding his lips around Kris and getting twin moans from them both. Yixing couldn’t even feel it, but watching was enough, pressing kisses to Kris’s shoulder and feeling his body stir at the beauty of it, the way Kris shifted as Tao’s wet fingers began to tease him from the inside.
“He likes being stroked, too,” Yixing told him.
Yixing squirmed, hands tight in the pillow he was clutching as he watched Kris’s hips try not to lift as Tao swallowed him down whole. Yixing had never been able to take him that deep, and he was fascinated at the sight, Tao’s throaty moans and Kris’s face, frozen in some mask of reaction. Pleasure, straining not to move.
And especially so, as Tao’s head lifted, leaving Kris on the edge. And Yixing’s breath caught as Tao looked him over, biting his lip as he admired Tao’s body as well. Closer, Yixing rose, all but melting into him as Tao kissed him.
“Do you fuck him?” Tao asked against his jaw.
Yixing nodded. “Yeah.”
“I want to, too. Do it while he gets me ready?”
It was almost a demand as much as it was a suggestion, and the heat of it swirled in him.
Kris was hard, his condom-covered cock dark and curved with arousal. They had moment to meet each other’s eyes before Tao’s body was between them. He watched, fumbling with a condom himself, as Tao took one another.
And as Kris’s body took him easily, and he watched with sagging jaw as Tao’s thighs spread, offering Kris his cock. He couldn’t even see, but the sounds were obscene, Kris’s moans, Tao’s encouragements - yeah, suck just like that, you’re taking me good, such a pretty mouth - and the sound of greedy sucking. Kris’s hands were on Tao’s hips, and Yixing watched Tao’s ass flex as he thrust into Kris’s mouth.
He wanted to see. He was almost whining as he slid into Kris’s body to the time of Tao’s hips. He wanted to push Tao aside and come in Kris’s mouth. And a minute more, he would have come anyway. But Tao pushed up onto his knees and stood, erection jutting up, the condom wet from Kris’s mouth, and Kris’s lips red and worried from the friction.
It took only a hand on Yixing’s shoulder and he abandoned the warmth of Kris’s body, moving and watching as Tao pulled at Kris, pulling him onto his knees.
“I hope you like this, too,” Tao said, and as he bent over Kris’s back, he sank deep into Kris’s ass.
Kris moaned, braced on the bed. Not a sound of pain but fulfillment. Yixing could see his cock bobbing underneath of him, wanted to touch, but Tao looked at him, at Yixing’s own erection.
“Why don’t you suck him?” Tao told Kris, soft voice, softer instruction. “Don’t make him come, though. Just keep him hard.”
Yixing stripped himself of the condom, breath hitching as Kris parting his thighs and got him wet, teased him with his tongue and his lips. On his back, he could watch Tao and the fluid movements of his body as he took Kris. He felt the moans against him, and the strangled sound as Tao reached under and let Kris fuck into his hand. And Tao pulled Kris back as Yixing’s back arched, gasping, close.
“Not yet,” Tao said, and Yixing panted as he watched Kris rock back into Tao’s thrusts to get more, and more. He contorted himself so he could kiss Kris’s face, reddened lips, stroking through his hair, over his neck. And his eyes, focused on Yixing, went blank as he came, his face driving into Yixing’s shoulder. Tao was grinning, his arm pumping as he jerked Kris through his orgasm. And Yixing nearly shuddered as Tao pulled out, still hard - Tao hadn’t come. Yet still, he threw the condom away, rolling on a new one, and Yixing gently helped Kris onto his back so he could relax away from any wet he’d created.
And his hand tangled with Kris’s, as Tao pressed kisses across the back of Yixing’s shoulders. Kris moved their fingers, stroking them along Yixing’s erection, and he breathed out as Tao worked inside of him.
“I wanted both of you,” Tao breathed against his neck, making him gasp and turn his head.
“Don’t breathe there,” Kris said. “Or he’ll be more likely to knee you in the balls.”
“Can I touch?” Tao asked.
Yixing head bobbed, a sound from his throat as Tao kissed down his neck. There was still an element there that made him squirm, but the wet, warm touch of Tao’s tongue had him gasping in more ways than one.
His cheek met Tao’s, rearing his head back and rubbing against him, remembering the look of him taking Kris, knowing that was about to be him.
And he kissed Kris’s hand, held it to his lips, half to connect them, half to control himself as Tao’s cock slid into him again. His thighs struggled wider, planting his hand, his knees, steadied by Kris’s hand and Tao’s arm around his ribs. Being filled and still hard had his body flushing, an ache he wanted filled. He stared at Kris’s lips and wanted to kiss them, wanted to slip inside them. The way that Kris’s tongue could lick at his cock, delicate and bold by turn, aggressive suction and gentle glides.
He thought Tao was going to give that to him as they moved forward, still joined. If Kris just moved, lifted his head-
Yixing braced himself on the wall, Kris’s hand on his thigh, Tao’s moving wet along his cock. Clever lifts of his hips leaving Yixing gasping, moving into Tao’s hand in desperation, watching Kris through eyes that were nearly tearing with the edge of pleasure cutting through him.
“Is he yours?”
Yixing wasn’t sure which of them Tao was asking, words caught inside him as he stared at Kris.
He cried out “yes!” just a breath before Kris, and Tao stroked him faster, the sound of slick strokes, Kris’s wide and hungry eyes, Tao’s relentless hips.
“Oh,” he moaned. An again. And again. And his whole body shuddered, his come falling against Kris’s cheek, his chin, his neck.
His body gave one last pulse a Tao’s teeth dug into his shoulder, and Tao came inside him.
Kris was reaching for him, even before Tao pulled away, before he whined a bit. He breathed into Kris’s collarbone, stretching out muscle by muscle until his knees were no longer under him. It was only after a tissue fluttered onto Kris’s chest in front of his face, and Tao rested behind him, that he realized there was a mess to clean. He wet the tissue with his mouth, and did not think but knew that Kris looked good marked by him. It was impermanent, and Kris smiled at him as his come was mostly wiped away.
He turned his head, intending to give Tao his appreciation, but Tao’s eyes were closed, mouth parted. So Yixing smiled, nuzzling into Kris’s shoulder, and let himself rest.
***
Yixing woke to the sound of wet, and touch. An arm was over his shoulder, a hand cupping his balls, thumb rubbing until he was getting hard from the friction. He tilted his head and saw the reason for the rest, Tao’s lips sealed against Kris’s. He sighed, hardening against Tao’s fingers as he watched the seduction of kisses. It drew their attention, and he lifted his head, eager as Kris’s tongue slipped between his lips.
A condom was rolled onto him, and all he could do was hold onto Kris’s shoulders as Tao’s lips closed around him.
Eyes wide, gasping, staring at Kris as though asking if it was all right. And Kris kissed him, directed Yixing’s eyes with his chin. So he could watch.
So they both could.
It wasn’t a fantasy, being woken in the middle of the night with a light still on in the corner, a naked man between his legs and another stretched beside him. He almost lifted off the bed as Tao slid three fingers into him, moaning around him even as Yixing grasped at the covers, as little in control of his movements as he had ever been. As soon as Tao knew it wasn’t pain, Yixing was given no relief, the press of Tao’s fingers and his tongue, sound heaving into the air, squirming on the bed.
“Please. Please.”
Begging. Begging to come.
Until Tao’s fingers sped and his throat closed, and Yixing came with a whimper.
Kris pressed kisses to his face, Tao to his belly. He was still trembling with it when Tao nudged him, curled him, pushed his mouth down over Kris’s cock. Hard, aroused by the show he had just seen, warm and lovely against his tongue, he did his best to please Kris, only able to partly see as Tao fucked Kris’s mouth. Kris pulsed against his tongue not long before Tao threw back his head and moaned.
He wasn’t sure who helped him back up against Kris, only knowing that when he woke again, it was morning, and they were alone. The bed that Kris bent him over minutes later and took him against, smelled of sex, and Yixing had never come harder.
***
Yixing looked up from his desk at the sound of a throat clearing, eyes skimming quick up the sleek black suit and knotted red tie. And air caught in his throat at recognition, Tao’s lips curving.
“Kris,” he said, voice sounding foreign to his own ears. And Kris swiveled in his office chair.
“I wanted to introduce myself, since I’m starting today,” Tao said, bowing smoothly to both of them. “I hope we work well together.”
Kris met his eyes, and Yixing’s mind had still not caught up. All he could really do was laugh.
***
Bonus short ficlets.