exo; two's a crowd
taohun. nc-17. 751 words. for anon who wanted taohun showersex.
What with light feet, the steady drone of running water and a high-pitched rendition of a familiar earworm audible all the way out in the hall, it’s fairly easy to sneak in on Zitao in the shower.
What Sehun doesn’t expect, however, is to catch Zitao mid-jerk, leaned back against the wall with shut eyes and his very erect dick in hand.
“COME ON GIRLS, COME ON BOYS,” belts Zitao who requires a couple of seconds to register a presence, open said eyes and cut his “COME ON, COME ON, GET YOUR CRAYON, CR-” short with a startled yelp.
“Uh,” says Sehun.
“Uh,” says Zitao, letting go of his dick. It flops merrily against his stomach before settling at a rough 45 degree angle, like peering up at Sehun with its single squinting eye. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Did. Did you want to wash?”
“Don’t you lock the door when you’re gonna wank?” Sehun mutters, pressing himself in next to Zitao and reaching for the soap.
“I didn’t plan to wank,” Zitao admits, his steam-induced blush darkening a little. “It came later.”
“Aha,” Sehun says, lathering up his armpits. “So. G-D sunbae-nim, huh?”
Zitao’s mouth ties together. “I would never-“ he starts, but then sees Sehun’s grin and breaks out into one of his own. “Fucker.”
So Zitao scrubs Sehun’s back with a purple loofah and Sehun sings the HOO-HOO-HOO-HOOH’s to Zitao’s GET YOUR CRAYON’s, diligently struggling to up him in terms of both volume and pitch inaccuracy until someone much sounding like Baekhyun pounds heavily on the door and howls something about hullabaloos and not appreciating them.
“Why so serious,” Zitao hums under his breath and spins Sehun around for a few strokes across his chest as well. “Hey, I can do you too,” he says, grinning with the left half of his mouth.
“Do me what?”
Zitao’s head cocks to the side, and then down between them. The loofah makes a detour down Sehun’s stomach while Zitao’s left hand finds his own still-stiff dick again, fingering along the base.
Sehun looks up at him and nods, and Zitao reaches for Sehun’s cock instead.
Of course Zitao wants to kiss, because he is Zitao. He stands close, breathing down Sehun’s neck while stroking him with easy tugs and barely has Sehun fully hardened before Zitao noses up his cheek and says; “Lips okay?” Sehun resists the urge to laugh at how Zitao’s korean always manages to sound weird one way or another, just nods one more time and Zitao’s lips carefully map out the path from his jaw to his mouth.
He stands close, pressing onto Sehun and Sehun’s personal space like wanting to feel as much of Sehun’s body with his own body as possible and sooner than later does Sehun find his back meeting the tiled wall. Zitao is busy licking Sehun’s mouth open with his tongue, finally having discarded of the loofah to curl his right hand around Sehun’s neck, and doesn’t really notice, but Sehun certainly does notice Zitao’s dick pressing into his hip. It’s distracting - not in a bad way but still - and he presses his hand down between them to wrap his fingers around it.
Zitao immediately swats him away. “I said I’d do, didn’t I?”
“Okay,” Sehun says. “Do then.”
Zitao rolls his eyes, kisses him again - a little harder, Sehun can’t help noticing - and switches hands; right on Sehun’s dick, left on his own, and then again; left on Sehun, right on himself, before making a noise in his throat and simply fitting his right hand around them both. Sehun’s throat makes a little noise as well. His hands find Zitao’s waist.
“Tongue,” Zitao demands and Sehun diligently stretches it out to let Zitao suck on it. He twitches at a thumb across his tip, hips bucking up against Zitao all on their own accord, making him slide in Zitao’s wet hand.
Zitao groans thickly against his mouth.
Sehun does it again. And again. Winds both arms around Zitao’s neck to pull himself up and thrust against him, angling his head to catch Zitao’s tongue between his lips and Zitao groans more, hand tightening dangerously around them.
It takes them a couple of seconds to register a presence, open their eyes and fly apart with startled yelps.
“Don’t you lock the door when you’re gonna jerk each other off?” Jongin mutters.
“Um,” Tao says. “Did. Did you want to wash?”
Jongin presses himself in next to Zitao and reaches for the soap.
What with light feet, the steady drone of running water and a high-pitched rendition of a familiar earworm audible all the way out in the hall, it’s fairly easy to sneak in on Zitao in the shower.
What Sehun doesn’t expect, however, is to catch Zitao mid-jerk, leaned back against the wall with shut eyes and his very erect dick in hand.
“COME ON GIRLS, COME ON BOYS,” belts Zitao who requires a couple of seconds to register a presence, open said eyes and cut his “COME ON, COME ON, GET YOUR CRAYON, CR-” short with a startled yelp.
“Uh,” says Sehun.
“Uh,” says Zitao, letting go of his dick. It flops merrily against his stomach before settling at a rough 45 degree angle, like peering up at Sehun with its single squinting eye. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Did. Did you want to wash?”
“Don’t you lock the door when you’re gonna wank?” Sehun mutters, pressing himself in next to Zitao and reaching for the soap.
“I didn’t plan to wank,” Zitao admits, his steam-induced blush darkening a little. “It came later.”
“Aha,” Sehun says, lathering up his armpits. “So. G-D sunbae-nim, huh?”
Zitao’s mouth ties together. “I would never-“ he starts, but then sees Sehun’s grin and breaks out into one of his own. “Fucker.”
So Zitao scrubs Sehun’s back with a purple loofah and Sehun sings the HOO-HOO-HOO-HOOH’s to Zitao’s GET YOUR CRAYON’s, diligently struggling to up him in terms of both volume and pitch inaccuracy until someone much sounding like Baekhyun pounds heavily on the door and howls something about hullabaloos and not appreciating them.
“Why so serious,” Zitao hums under his breath and spins Sehun around for a few strokes across his chest as well. “Hey, I can do you too,” he says, grinning with the left half of his mouth.
“Do me what?”
Zitao’s head cocks to the side, and then down between them. The loofah makes a detour down Sehun’s stomach while Zitao’s left hand finds his own still-stiff dick again, fingering along the base.
Sehun looks up at him and nods, and Zitao reaches for Sehun’s cock instead.
Of course Zitao wants to kiss, because he is Zitao. He stands close, breathing down Sehun’s neck while stroking him with easy tugs and barely has Sehun fully hardened before Zitao noses up his cheek and says; “Lips okay?” Sehun resists the urge to laugh at how Zitao’s korean always manages to sound weird one way or another, just nods one more time and Zitao’s lips carefully map out the path from his jaw to his mouth.
He stands close, pressing onto Sehun and Sehun’s personal space like wanting to feel as much of Sehun’s body with his own body as possible and sooner than later does Sehun find his back meeting the tiled wall. Zitao is busy licking Sehun’s mouth open with his tongue, finally having discarded of the loofah to curl his right hand around Sehun’s neck, and doesn’t really notice, but Sehun certainly does notice Zitao’s dick pressing into his hip. It’s distracting - not in a bad way but still - and he presses his hand down between them to wrap his fingers around it.
Zitao immediately swats him away. “I said I’d do, didn’t I?”
“Okay,” Sehun says. “Do then.”
Zitao rolls his eyes, kisses him again - a little harder, Sehun can’t help noticing - and switches hands; right on Sehun’s dick, left on his own, and then again; left on Sehun, right on himself, before making a noise in his throat and simply fitting his right hand around them both. Sehun’s throat makes a little noise as well. His hands find Zitao’s waist.
“Tongue,” Zitao demands and Sehun diligently stretches it out to let Zitao suck on it. He twitches at a thumb across his tip, hips bucking up against Zitao all on their own accord, making him slide in Zitao’s wet hand.
Zitao groans thickly against his mouth.
Sehun does it again. And again. Winds both arms around Zitao’s neck to pull himself up and thrust against him, angling his head to catch Zitao’s tongue between his lips and Zitao groans more, hand tightening dangerously around them.
It takes them a couple of seconds to register a presence, open their eyes and fly apart with startled yelps.
“Don’t you lock the door when you’re gonna jerk each other off?” Jongin mutters.
“Um,” Tao says. “Did. Did you want to wash?”
Jongin presses himself in next to Zitao and reaches for the soap.