M is for Motive
Because hyperballad, dear_whimsy and I all came to the conclusion that Zhou Mi is evil and that this is hot. Beware: here be het sex (And, of course, gay sex as well).
M is for Motive
pairing: Zhou Mi/...everyone
She shudders and comes, and Zhou Mi smiles against her lips, slips his tongue inside her to taste her juices. He doesn't like girls, but he likes this: the way her back arches and her legs twitch, the way her breath comes out in arrhythmic pants between half-swallowed moans, the way her sweat-soaked hair frames her face, wincing, nerves raw and on fire amidst her third orgasm of the hour. He likes that he can do this to her, hums contentedly as he relishes the flavor of his power.
"Fuck," she says finally, voice trembling, and her legs fall limp on either side of his head. He kisses up her belly, between her breasts, up her neck to nibble softly on her ear.
"I was going to give you a chance to catch you breath, but if you're ready now..." he says softly, rubbing his cock against her thigh.
She laughs, almost hysterically, and shakes her head dumbly before managing to get any words out. "Give me a minute."
He smiles along her jawline, brings his mouth down to suck gently on her neck. "I wouldn't want to tire you out too much, not with your showcase coming up." When he feels her tense up at the mention of her debut, he pulls away so that they are face to face, stares directly into her wide eyes. "I'm so fucking proud of you," he says, and thinks there's a part of him that means it. When she blushes and smiles shyly-shy now, of all times-he is a little surprised to find himself genuinely admiring her beauty.
"About my showcase..." She stops, then blurts out, "I talked to the company. I told them I want you to MC it." He kisses her, hard, because it seems too much even to him to pretend like he's surprised.
***
"Zhou Mi, this is Hangeng gege." Liyin hooks her hand onto his arm and beams at both of them, probably still high on the feeling of the stage under her feet and the sound of the fans' cheers.
"You did a great job as the MC," Hangeng says, and Zhou Mi can tell immediately by the way the older man looks at him that the whisperings are true-if he plays his cards right, this will be all too easy.
"Thank you," he says, smiling his biggest smile. "I've been wanting to meet you for so long. You know, right? That I'm one of the ones they're considering..."
Hangeng smiles, darting his eyes meaningfully to Liyin, and Zhou Mi nods.
The three sit down to talk, but soon Liyin is called away to meet with well-wishers and local celebrities and it's just the two of them. They talk in hushed tones about the new unit, and Zhou Mi plays off of Hangeng's reactions, steers the conversation subtly, slowly gets the other to open up. It's easy-in part, he is sure, because Hangeng must be starved for conversation in his native tongue and Zhou Mi is nothing if not good at that, but also, he knows, because of how he looks. Who he looks like. He watches with satisfaction as the glint in Hangeng's eyes grows brighter and brighter, until it finally reflects a face that is almost, but not quite, Zhou Mi's.
Hangeng fucks him against the back of the stage wall when everyone has gone. Zhou Mi places his hands on the metal girders in front of him for support and the whole structure rattles softly in time with Hangeng's thrusts. It is the best fuck he's had in years, smooth yet forceful, hands gripped possessively at his hips. He gives as good as he gets, arching his back, grabbing Hangeng's hand when it comes up to clasp his shoulder and sucking on the index and middle fingers, and then when the burning pleasure builds and spreads through his body, mewling "yes" and "gege" and "please" over his shoulder. He waits for Hangeng's breath to turn raspy, for his pace to quicken ever so slightly, and then he pitches his voice carefully and moans, "hyung."
Hangeng gasps and growls and comes deep inside him, and Zhou Mi comes too, white ropes on the dark dirt beneath the stage. They collapse onto the grass together, panting, and Zhou Mi looks up at the stars, waits for them to align. A hand caresses the side of his face, and when he looks over Hangeng's eyes, limpid, glowing, lock into place in the constellation he is creating.
"When will I see you again?" he asks softly, and when Hangeng responds without hesitation, "Soon," Zhou Mi confirms with satisfaction that he has succeeded in moving heaven and earth-he is in.
***
He doesn't bother to seduce Henry, but he doesn't need to. The boy is like a puppy that's been kicked one too many times, skittish and starved for affection. All it takes is a smile, a firm hug and a kind we're in this together, you and me and he knows Henry is his, will do anything for him.
The others fall one by one. First is Ryeowook-hours of late-night talking turn into hours of late-night kissing, and then the slide of naked bodies against each other in Ryeowook's bed leaves him with a sticky belly and Ryeowook's lasting adoration. Next is Donghae, who yanks his hair hard and swears in Korean when he comes down Zhou Mi's throat in front of the mirror in the dance studio. Zhou Mi is not sure if the older man likes him yet, but he likes his mouth, and that is enough for the time being. He gets Kyuhyun before their first performance, sees the nervousness in his eyes and takes his hand silently, leads him to a utility closet and brings him off with a short, awkward handjob. He likes the noises the boy makes when he comes, low and husky, and he likes even more the smile afterward that tells him he has only one more to go.
Siwon, he can tell from the beginning, will be difficult. He is not surprised when the older man stalks into his room late one night a few days after their debut, brows furrowed, and says, "We need to talk."
"Sure," Zhou Mi says. "What about?"
"I don't trust you."
Zhou Mi smiles. "That's very smart of you. I wouldn't trust me either."
Siwon glares at him, eyes dark.
"What?" Zhou Mi laughs. "It's not like I've got some secret plan to bring you all down from the inside. There's really nothing to worry about."
"Why are you fucking everyone?" Siwon asks, undeterred.
"Wait just a minute," Zhou Mi counters severely, "I am not fucking everyone. I've left Henry alone, haven't I? And there's still you..." He rests a hand on Siwon's thigh.
"Don't touch me," Siwon snarls, batting his hand away. "Just tell me why you're doing this."
"Fine," Zhou Mi says, irritation seeping into his voice. "It's pretty simple, actually. I'm in this for me, to get what I want, and I use sex to do that-always have, always will."
Siwon's face distorts in disgust.
"Oh, don't give me that look. I don't care if you think that makes me perverted or broken. I like to fuck, and I like what fucking gets me. And just because I fuck someone to get something doesn't mean I don't like them or that we can't be friends and work together."
Siwon shakes his head and makes to get up to leave, but Zhou Mi grabs his arm. "Tell me something. This isn't about me, is it?" Siwon tries to tug his arm away and Zhou Mi tightens his grip. "This is about Hangeng."
Siwon's eyes go wide, then narrow. "Fuck you."
"You can, you know," Zhou Mi says, pressing his torso against Siwon's and bringing their faces close enough that he can feel Siwon's agitated breath. He catches the Korean man's eyes, holds them in his gaze. "He did. And he was thinking of you the whole time. He's obsessed with you," Zhou Mi whispers, and feels a shudder run through Siwon's body. "I used him, he used me. We all use each other. You may think it's fucked up, but I think it's the best way to start a friendship." Zhou Mi leans in closer, so that their lips are almost touching. "Be my friend, Siwon. Use me."
There is a long moment of silence, and then Siwon shoves him onto the bed and pulls his shirt over his head.
***
Later, tangled in each others limbs and damp sheets and gasping for air heavy with the scent of sweat and sex, Siwon says softly, "I don't like you."
Zhou Mi smiles. "Yes you do," he says, and brings their lips together for a kiss.
Siwon kisses back.
M is for Motive
pairing: Zhou Mi/...everyone
She shudders and comes, and Zhou Mi smiles against her lips, slips his tongue inside her to taste her juices. He doesn't like girls, but he likes this: the way her back arches and her legs twitch, the way her breath comes out in arrhythmic pants between half-swallowed moans, the way her sweat-soaked hair frames her face, wincing, nerves raw and on fire amidst her third orgasm of the hour. He likes that he can do this to her, hums contentedly as he relishes the flavor of his power.
"Fuck," she says finally, voice trembling, and her legs fall limp on either side of his head. He kisses up her belly, between her breasts, up her neck to nibble softly on her ear.
"I was going to give you a chance to catch you breath, but if you're ready now..." he says softly, rubbing his cock against her thigh.
She laughs, almost hysterically, and shakes her head dumbly before managing to get any words out. "Give me a minute."
He smiles along her jawline, brings his mouth down to suck gently on her neck. "I wouldn't want to tire you out too much, not with your showcase coming up." When he feels her tense up at the mention of her debut, he pulls away so that they are face to face, stares directly into her wide eyes. "I'm so fucking proud of you," he says, and thinks there's a part of him that means it. When she blushes and smiles shyly-shy now, of all times-he is a little surprised to find himself genuinely admiring her beauty.
"About my showcase..." She stops, then blurts out, "I talked to the company. I told them I want you to MC it." He kisses her, hard, because it seems too much even to him to pretend like he's surprised.
***
"Zhou Mi, this is Hangeng gege." Liyin hooks her hand onto his arm and beams at both of them, probably still high on the feeling of the stage under her feet and the sound of the fans' cheers.
"You did a great job as the MC," Hangeng says, and Zhou Mi can tell immediately by the way the older man looks at him that the whisperings are true-if he plays his cards right, this will be all too easy.
"Thank you," he says, smiling his biggest smile. "I've been wanting to meet you for so long. You know, right? That I'm one of the ones they're considering..."
Hangeng smiles, darting his eyes meaningfully to Liyin, and Zhou Mi nods.
The three sit down to talk, but soon Liyin is called away to meet with well-wishers and local celebrities and it's just the two of them. They talk in hushed tones about the new unit, and Zhou Mi plays off of Hangeng's reactions, steers the conversation subtly, slowly gets the other to open up. It's easy-in part, he is sure, because Hangeng must be starved for conversation in his native tongue and Zhou Mi is nothing if not good at that, but also, he knows, because of how he looks. Who he looks like. He watches with satisfaction as the glint in Hangeng's eyes grows brighter and brighter, until it finally reflects a face that is almost, but not quite, Zhou Mi's.
Hangeng fucks him against the back of the stage wall when everyone has gone. Zhou Mi places his hands on the metal girders in front of him for support and the whole structure rattles softly in time with Hangeng's thrusts. It is the best fuck he's had in years, smooth yet forceful, hands gripped possessively at his hips. He gives as good as he gets, arching his back, grabbing Hangeng's hand when it comes up to clasp his shoulder and sucking on the index and middle fingers, and then when the burning pleasure builds and spreads through his body, mewling "yes" and "gege" and "please" over his shoulder. He waits for Hangeng's breath to turn raspy, for his pace to quicken ever so slightly, and then he pitches his voice carefully and moans, "hyung."
Hangeng gasps and growls and comes deep inside him, and Zhou Mi comes too, white ropes on the dark dirt beneath the stage. They collapse onto the grass together, panting, and Zhou Mi looks up at the stars, waits for them to align. A hand caresses the side of his face, and when he looks over Hangeng's eyes, limpid, glowing, lock into place in the constellation he is creating.
"When will I see you again?" he asks softly, and when Hangeng responds without hesitation, "Soon," Zhou Mi confirms with satisfaction that he has succeeded in moving heaven and earth-he is in.
***
He doesn't bother to seduce Henry, but he doesn't need to. The boy is like a puppy that's been kicked one too many times, skittish and starved for affection. All it takes is a smile, a firm hug and a kind we're in this together, you and me and he knows Henry is his, will do anything for him.
The others fall one by one. First is Ryeowook-hours of late-night talking turn into hours of late-night kissing, and then the slide of naked bodies against each other in Ryeowook's bed leaves him with a sticky belly and Ryeowook's lasting adoration. Next is Donghae, who yanks his hair hard and swears in Korean when he comes down Zhou Mi's throat in front of the mirror in the dance studio. Zhou Mi is not sure if the older man likes him yet, but he likes his mouth, and that is enough for the time being. He gets Kyuhyun before their first performance, sees the nervousness in his eyes and takes his hand silently, leads him to a utility closet and brings him off with a short, awkward handjob. He likes the noises the boy makes when he comes, low and husky, and he likes even more the smile afterward that tells him he has only one more to go.
Siwon, he can tell from the beginning, will be difficult. He is not surprised when the older man stalks into his room late one night a few days after their debut, brows furrowed, and says, "We need to talk."
"Sure," Zhou Mi says. "What about?"
"I don't trust you."
Zhou Mi smiles. "That's very smart of you. I wouldn't trust me either."
Siwon glares at him, eyes dark.
"What?" Zhou Mi laughs. "It's not like I've got some secret plan to bring you all down from the inside. There's really nothing to worry about."
"Why are you fucking everyone?" Siwon asks, undeterred.
"Wait just a minute," Zhou Mi counters severely, "I am not fucking everyone. I've left Henry alone, haven't I? And there's still you..." He rests a hand on Siwon's thigh.
"Don't touch me," Siwon snarls, batting his hand away. "Just tell me why you're doing this."
"Fine," Zhou Mi says, irritation seeping into his voice. "It's pretty simple, actually. I'm in this for me, to get what I want, and I use sex to do that-always have, always will."
Siwon's face distorts in disgust.
"Oh, don't give me that look. I don't care if you think that makes me perverted or broken. I like to fuck, and I like what fucking gets me. And just because I fuck someone to get something doesn't mean I don't like them or that we can't be friends and work together."
Siwon shakes his head and makes to get up to leave, but Zhou Mi grabs his arm. "Tell me something. This isn't about me, is it?" Siwon tries to tug his arm away and Zhou Mi tightens his grip. "This is about Hangeng."
Siwon's eyes go wide, then narrow. "Fuck you."
"You can, you know," Zhou Mi says, pressing his torso against Siwon's and bringing their faces close enough that he can feel Siwon's agitated breath. He catches the Korean man's eyes, holds them in his gaze. "He did. And he was thinking of you the whole time. He's obsessed with you," Zhou Mi whispers, and feels a shudder run through Siwon's body. "I used him, he used me. We all use each other. You may think it's fucked up, but I think it's the best way to start a friendship." Zhou Mi leans in closer, so that their lips are almost touching. "Be my friend, Siwon. Use me."
There is a long moment of silence, and then Siwon shoves him onto the bed and pulls his shirt over his head.
***
Later, tangled in each others limbs and damp sheets and gasping for air heavy with the scent of sweat and sex, Siwon says softly, "I don't like you."
Zhou Mi smiles. "Yes you do," he says, and brings their lips together for a kiss.
Siwon kisses back.