[FOR OFOLIVESNGINGER] Dreams Last For So Long
Title: Dreams Last For So Long
For: ofolivesnginger
Rating: NC-17
Length: 2.3k
Warnings: Sex?
Author's notes: THANK YOU T AND J FOR BETA-ING!
Summary: About them leaving. Yifan sees Lu Han on the other side, and life goes on. Five months later they are here at last, where they should have been years ago, back when they were different, unchanged, ordinary people.
The gruff-looking man who opens the door is not Lu Han, but he recognizes Yifan and steps aside instantly. “Lu! Your friend is here!”
Wu Yifan has been called many things in the past few months-martyr, traitor, brave, ungrateful, young, despicable, and more. No one, not even Yifan’s agent, has referred to him as a friend. He’s still at a loss when the man, Lao Gao, pulls Yifan inside and yells for Lu Han to get his ass out of bed.
Through the messy living room, Yifan spots the open door to a bedroom. Inside, Lu Han sticks his head out from underneath the blanket and blinks sleepily. It’s two in the afternoon on a Thursday, and when Yifan walks into the bedroom, Lu Han seems more concerned with fixing his bangs than greeting him. “Long time no see,” Yifan says teasingly, sitting at the end of the bed.
Lu Han gives up on grooming his bedhead and flops backward on the bed, his wrinkled AGAPE shirt riding up the planes of his stomach. Without the bronzer and photoshop, Lu Han’s skin simply looks pale and taut. “It hasn’t been that long,” Lu Han says, spotting the water bottle in Yifan's bag and making a grabbing motion at it.
Amused, Yifan scoots over until Lu Han kicks the comforter off. He uncaps the bottle and pretends to serve Lu Han, laughing when Lu Han sputters and snatches it out of Yifan’s hand.
Lu Han glares and kicks off the blanket, exposing his briefs. “God, I forgot how annoying you are.”
“Did you?” Yifan murmurs, scooting closer until their legs are pressed together. It’s October, but Lao Gao’s apartment is overwhelmingly warm, making Lu Han’s legs looks spotchy against the fabric of Yifan’s jeans. When Lu Han finishes the bottle and sets his head back on the pillow, blinking lazily, Yifan sets a hand on Lu Han’s hair. “Why are you so tired?”
Lu Han sighs as he reaches for Yifan's face. "There were people camped out of my parents’ house. They weren’t happy.” His fingers brush against Yifan’s jaw, and Yifan finds himself leaning into the touch.
Yifan doesn’t know if Lu Han means the stalkers or his parents, but he doesn't ask for more details. Lu Han is softer in the rare moments between sleep and awareness, more pliable, easier to touch with his sheepish smile and bed hair. "Come cuddle with me, Rourou," Lu Han says, with one eye closed.
"Fuck you," Yifan laughs as he curves his body against Lu Han's, tucking Lu Han in further with a hand resting on his stomach. He blows onto the nape of Lu Han's neck until Lu Han jabs him in the chest with an elbow. "Are you going to tell me that you missed me?" Yifan ventures.
"No," Lu Han says quietly. He pauses before adding, "You smell different."
Yifan is actually wearing his publicist's cologne. He'd waken up late this morning for a meeting at the Sina building, and Qing Ge had pulled Yifan aside to give him a quick grooming before they stepped into the CEO's office. The meeting had lasted too long and, truth be told, Yifan didn't understand half of the briefing. His thoughts were on how tired Lu Han had sounded over the phone, and whether it was possible to move beyond everything that had happened in the last five months, in a city that wasn’t quite new to them anymore. "Good?" Yifan asks, setting his chin on Lu Han's shoulder.
"Just, different."
That much is obvious. It's hard for Yifan to feel like the same person who left the dorm for a snack run in May and never came back. On some levels, he wonders exactly how much he left behind in that room he shared with Zitao and Minseok. It's not something Yifan likes to dwell on, so he pulls Lu Han closer and says, "You smell like you someone who hasn't showered."
Lu Han takes that as a challenge and kisses Yifan. They stay like that for a bit, Yifan rubbing circles over Lu Han's hip until Lao Gao clears his throat loudly from outside of the door. "You bastards better not be banging! I’m leaving soon!"
Lu Han, for the most part, seems not to care as he pressed his toes against Yifan’s calves, over his jeans. He used to do this in empty dorm rooms, when Zitao went out with Sehun and Minseok set up camp in their manager’s room. It feels surreal to Yifan that, even after giving up his claim to so many relationships, he still had Lu Han. Despite the turmoil over words unsaid and friendships he can no longer call his own, Lu Han still accepted the validity of Yifan’s feelings like they were his own.
Yifan had never been good at reading Lu Han’s silence between rare moments of camaraderie and the ever-present hollowness. Yet, he was the only one who understood Yifan’s need to leave, the only one willing to share with Yifan secrets that ate them both away. And here they were, five months later, back in the same orbit. Yifan doesn’t want to think about the people he sacrificed for the sake of ambition, when moments of wide-eyes naivety encouraged him trade one poison for another. There was no going back now, and Lu Han understood this more than anyone else.
“Don’t go back to sleep,” Yifan murmurs into Lu Han’s neck when they get tired of kissing.
Lu Han just looks at him, eyes large and mouth opened into a small ‘o.’
“We can, though,” Lu Han says, and Yifan understood that, finally, there was nothing stopping them from coiling together and staying together. He pulls Lu Han closer and listens as their breaths synchronize.
The sun is setting outside of the window when Yifan wakes up to Lu Han’s hands on his face. He yawns into Lu Han’s neck as Lu Han’s hands fold over Yifan’s shoulders. They stay like that, Lu Han looking at Yifan as the light paints their faces in softer shades.
“What are you thinking about?” Yifan asks, his hands finding their way to Lu Han’s hips. He brushes the patch of exposed skin over Lu Han’s briefs, but Lu Han just smiles slowly.
“Just that you look better now, Rourou,” he says, laughing when Yifan pinches his side. Lu Han wraps both arms around Yifan’s neck and pulls himself closer, until their stomachs are touching and his thigh is pressing comfortably into Yifan’s erection.
Yifan gently bites the inside of Lu Han’s arm and is satisfied when Lu Han presses himself closer in response. “At least I’m not crushing on my own grandmother.”
“No will ever let me live this movie down.” Lu Han hums, although his voice dips when Yifan peels at the waistband of Lu Han’s briefs down and takes him into his hand. He buckles forward on instinct and frees his arms from Yifan’s neck, going for Yifan’s jeans.
“Later,” Yifan says as he slides down the bed.
“You’ve gotten so ambitious,” Lu Han sighs when Yifan breathes over his cock. He makes no further unnecessary comments when Yifan licks up his dick, from shaft to tip. Lu Han pets Yifan’s hair in encouragement as Yifan strokes him with one hand while working with his tongue. It’s a comfortable silence, broken by intermittent noises escaping from Lu Han’s throat as Yifan takes his time to re-familiarize himself with Lu Han. Yifan licks one wet stripe after another until Lu Han tugs at his hair.
“What? Already?” Yifan smirks when Lu Han gives him a warning look.
“Come over here,” Lu Han demands, pulling Yifan up as his hands expertly unbutton Yifan’s jeans. They kiss lazily as Yifan undresses. Then Lu Han gives him a push and Yifan lands on his back at the other end of the bed. “Just go with this,” Lu Han murmurs before shifting around and giving Yifan an up-close invitation to his ass.
“Um,” Yifan says, feeling lost as his hands settle on Lu Han’s thighs. He gets the gist when Lu Han positions his own body over Yifan’s, until his own face is leveled with Yifan’s crotch. Yifan wants to make a comment about who is the real ambitious one in the bedroom, but then Lu Han wiggles his ass in Yifan’s face and Yifan gets back to work, kissing the inside of Lu Han’s thighs and stroking his cock. Yifan congratulates himself when Lu Han’s hand on Yifan’s dick doesn’t stop him from the task at hand. At least, not until Lu Han swallows him in one go.
“Keep going,” Lu Han mumbles as his hands busy themselves with touching as much of Yifan as possible, and Yifan wonders how long Lu Han has waited for this. “Don’t think too much,” Lu Han says, his voice full of mirth.
Yifan wants to laugh. Instead, his hands splay Lu Han’s cheeks apart as he licks deliberately up the path to Lu Han’s hole. This draws a wet, desperate sound out of Lu Han. Yifan feels pleased with himself until Lu Han retaliates and does something with his tongue that makes Yifan thrust up, picking up their rhythm until he’s sloppily fucking into Lu Han’s mouth. Lu Han doesn’t complain, but his dick displays more interest and twitches in Yifan’s face. “Fuck,” he growls as Lu Han hollows his cheeks.
“That’s the idea.” Lu Han pops his lips off Yifan’s cock to remind him, and just for that Yifan mouths at Lu Han’s balls and sucks, enjoying the way Lu Han pushes his hips down on Yifan’s face. He makes an incomprehensible noise when Yifan, having coated enough of Lu Han’s precum on fingers, slides one digit into Lu Han. Yifan works a second finger in and, when Lu Han sounds like he’s about to cry, curls his fingers and presses. Lu Han stills and Yifan repeats, stroking Lu Han’s quivering thighs as he finger fucks Lu Han through his sweet, demanding high. Yifan thinks he could do this forever, watching the flush rise over Lu Han’s stomach as he rides out the orgasm. Eventually, Yifan stops and Lu Han relaxes to looks back at him, cheeks red and eyes glassy.
“Are you crying, Xiao Lu?” Yifan asks, grinning when Lu Han gives him a nasty look and squeezes Yifan’s dick.
“I’ll make you cry,” Lu Han murmurs, bringing his face back to Yifan’s dick and swallowing it whole. This effectively shuts Yifan up as Lu Han tightens his grip on the base of Yifan’s dick, stroking and sucking. When Lu Han presses his tongue to Yifan’s slit and twists his grip, Yifan closes his eyes and comes shakily.
Lu Han is sitting up and smiling softly at him when Yifan opens his eyes again. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it when Yifan strokes his cheek with one hand. “Shower?” With a newfound energy that Yifan always envied, Lu Han pulls Yifan up and manhandles him into bathroom.
“You’re strangely comfortable defiling your friend’s place,” Yifan comments as he watches Lu Han riffle through the cabinet for toiletries. He sits on the edge of the bathtub and yelps when Lu Han pushes him over, Yifan’s head narrowing missing the stack of shampoo bottles. He looks up, sprawled across the tub, as Lu Han steps in.
Lu Han turns around to pull the shower curtain shut, giving Yifan another great view of his ass in the process. He turns the showerhead on and, when Yifan stands up to corner him into wall, reaches up to shampoo Yifan’s hair. “This is my place. The lease is in my name,” Lu Han says matter-of-factly as his fingers run through Yifan’s bangs. “I had Lao Gao get this place for me a few months ago. He crashes here, sometimes.”
“So this is the condo you bought for your secret mistress?” Yifan asks, because his humor always failed at times like this. He ducks a little and expects Lu Han to flick foam into his face, but Lu Han just looks at him with an incomprehensible expression on his face.
“I don’t have a mistress,” Lu Han replies quietly, yet surely. “I just have you.”
There’s not much Yifan can say to that, so he boxes Lu Han in and kisses him until they’re both breathless. They clean up in silence until Yifan accidently rams his elbow into the wall, then Lu Han is laughing about his long limbs and throwing a towel at Yifan. “Don’t get the floors wet.”
Yifan wonders if he is dreaming as he dries himself and follows Lu Han into the living room, Lu Han digging through another half-open suitcase on a floor until he finds an overlarge shirt that Yifan recognizes as his own. Then it occurs to Yifan that this is one of this dreams-Lu Han looking at him with a small yet open smile, his skin still pink and steamy, as he reaches for Yifan’s hand. Maybe this is what Yifan had wanted for them years ago, when Yifan could barely dance and stuttered awkwardly whenever he spoke to the shadow trainee from Beijing. Lu Han could have done a number of things when Yifan left, yet here he was, persistently navigating through Yifan’s heart.
“We can make this work,” Yifan decides then, squeezing Lu Han’s hand.
Lu Han smiles but doesn’t say anything, as if he had known how things would play out all along. To Yifan, Lu Han feels less like a fleeting promise and more like surety.
For: ofolivesnginger
Rating: NC-17
Length: 2.3k
Warnings: Sex?
Author's notes: THANK YOU T AND J FOR BETA-ING!
Summary: About them leaving. Yifan sees Lu Han on the other side, and life goes on. Five months later they are here at last, where they should have been years ago, back when they were different, unchanged, ordinary people.
The gruff-looking man who opens the door is not Lu Han, but he recognizes Yifan and steps aside instantly. “Lu! Your friend is here!”
Wu Yifan has been called many things in the past few months-martyr, traitor, brave, ungrateful, young, despicable, and more. No one, not even Yifan’s agent, has referred to him as a friend. He’s still at a loss when the man, Lao Gao, pulls Yifan inside and yells for Lu Han to get his ass out of bed.
Through the messy living room, Yifan spots the open door to a bedroom. Inside, Lu Han sticks his head out from underneath the blanket and blinks sleepily. It’s two in the afternoon on a Thursday, and when Yifan walks into the bedroom, Lu Han seems more concerned with fixing his bangs than greeting him. “Long time no see,” Yifan says teasingly, sitting at the end of the bed.
Lu Han gives up on grooming his bedhead and flops backward on the bed, his wrinkled AGAPE shirt riding up the planes of his stomach. Without the bronzer and photoshop, Lu Han’s skin simply looks pale and taut. “It hasn’t been that long,” Lu Han says, spotting the water bottle in Yifan's bag and making a grabbing motion at it.
Amused, Yifan scoots over until Lu Han kicks the comforter off. He uncaps the bottle and pretends to serve Lu Han, laughing when Lu Han sputters and snatches it out of Yifan’s hand.
Lu Han glares and kicks off the blanket, exposing his briefs. “God, I forgot how annoying you are.”
“Did you?” Yifan murmurs, scooting closer until their legs are pressed together. It’s October, but Lao Gao’s apartment is overwhelmingly warm, making Lu Han’s legs looks spotchy against the fabric of Yifan’s jeans. When Lu Han finishes the bottle and sets his head back on the pillow, blinking lazily, Yifan sets a hand on Lu Han’s hair. “Why are you so tired?”
Lu Han sighs as he reaches for Yifan's face. "There were people camped out of my parents’ house. They weren’t happy.” His fingers brush against Yifan’s jaw, and Yifan finds himself leaning into the touch.
Yifan doesn’t know if Lu Han means the stalkers or his parents, but he doesn't ask for more details. Lu Han is softer in the rare moments between sleep and awareness, more pliable, easier to touch with his sheepish smile and bed hair. "Come cuddle with me, Rourou," Lu Han says, with one eye closed.
"Fuck you," Yifan laughs as he curves his body against Lu Han's, tucking Lu Han in further with a hand resting on his stomach. He blows onto the nape of Lu Han's neck until Lu Han jabs him in the chest with an elbow. "Are you going to tell me that you missed me?" Yifan ventures.
"No," Lu Han says quietly. He pauses before adding, "You smell different."
Yifan is actually wearing his publicist's cologne. He'd waken up late this morning for a meeting at the Sina building, and Qing Ge had pulled Yifan aside to give him a quick grooming before they stepped into the CEO's office. The meeting had lasted too long and, truth be told, Yifan didn't understand half of the briefing. His thoughts were on how tired Lu Han had sounded over the phone, and whether it was possible to move beyond everything that had happened in the last five months, in a city that wasn’t quite new to them anymore. "Good?" Yifan asks, setting his chin on Lu Han's shoulder.
"Just, different."
That much is obvious. It's hard for Yifan to feel like the same person who left the dorm for a snack run in May and never came back. On some levels, he wonders exactly how much he left behind in that room he shared with Zitao and Minseok. It's not something Yifan likes to dwell on, so he pulls Lu Han closer and says, "You smell like you someone who hasn't showered."
Lu Han takes that as a challenge and kisses Yifan. They stay like that for a bit, Yifan rubbing circles over Lu Han's hip until Lao Gao clears his throat loudly from outside of the door. "You bastards better not be banging! I’m leaving soon!"
Lu Han, for the most part, seems not to care as he pressed his toes against Yifan’s calves, over his jeans. He used to do this in empty dorm rooms, when Zitao went out with Sehun and Minseok set up camp in their manager’s room. It feels surreal to Yifan that, even after giving up his claim to so many relationships, he still had Lu Han. Despite the turmoil over words unsaid and friendships he can no longer call his own, Lu Han still accepted the validity of Yifan’s feelings like they were his own.
Yifan had never been good at reading Lu Han’s silence between rare moments of camaraderie and the ever-present hollowness. Yet, he was the only one who understood Yifan’s need to leave, the only one willing to share with Yifan secrets that ate them both away. And here they were, five months later, back in the same orbit. Yifan doesn’t want to think about the people he sacrificed for the sake of ambition, when moments of wide-eyes naivety encouraged him trade one poison for another. There was no going back now, and Lu Han understood this more than anyone else.
“Don’t go back to sleep,” Yifan murmurs into Lu Han’s neck when they get tired of kissing.
Lu Han just looks at him, eyes large and mouth opened into a small ‘o.’
“We can, though,” Lu Han says, and Yifan understood that, finally, there was nothing stopping them from coiling together and staying together. He pulls Lu Han closer and listens as their breaths synchronize.
The sun is setting outside of the window when Yifan wakes up to Lu Han’s hands on his face. He yawns into Lu Han’s neck as Lu Han’s hands fold over Yifan’s shoulders. They stay like that, Lu Han looking at Yifan as the light paints their faces in softer shades.
“What are you thinking about?” Yifan asks, his hands finding their way to Lu Han’s hips. He brushes the patch of exposed skin over Lu Han’s briefs, but Lu Han just smiles slowly.
“Just that you look better now, Rourou,” he says, laughing when Yifan pinches his side. Lu Han wraps both arms around Yifan’s neck and pulls himself closer, until their stomachs are touching and his thigh is pressing comfortably into Yifan’s erection.
Yifan gently bites the inside of Lu Han’s arm and is satisfied when Lu Han presses himself closer in response. “At least I’m not crushing on my own grandmother.”
“No will ever let me live this movie down.” Lu Han hums, although his voice dips when Yifan peels at the waistband of Lu Han’s briefs down and takes him into his hand. He buckles forward on instinct and frees his arms from Yifan’s neck, going for Yifan’s jeans.
“Later,” Yifan says as he slides down the bed.
“You’ve gotten so ambitious,” Lu Han sighs when Yifan breathes over his cock. He makes no further unnecessary comments when Yifan licks up his dick, from shaft to tip. Lu Han pets Yifan’s hair in encouragement as Yifan strokes him with one hand while working with his tongue. It’s a comfortable silence, broken by intermittent noises escaping from Lu Han’s throat as Yifan takes his time to re-familiarize himself with Lu Han. Yifan licks one wet stripe after another until Lu Han tugs at his hair.
“What? Already?” Yifan smirks when Lu Han gives him a warning look.
“Come over here,” Lu Han demands, pulling Yifan up as his hands expertly unbutton Yifan’s jeans. They kiss lazily as Yifan undresses. Then Lu Han gives him a push and Yifan lands on his back at the other end of the bed. “Just go with this,” Lu Han murmurs before shifting around and giving Yifan an up-close invitation to his ass.
“Um,” Yifan says, feeling lost as his hands settle on Lu Han’s thighs. He gets the gist when Lu Han positions his own body over Yifan’s, until his own face is leveled with Yifan’s crotch. Yifan wants to make a comment about who is the real ambitious one in the bedroom, but then Lu Han wiggles his ass in Yifan’s face and Yifan gets back to work, kissing the inside of Lu Han’s thighs and stroking his cock. Yifan congratulates himself when Lu Han’s hand on Yifan’s dick doesn’t stop him from the task at hand. At least, not until Lu Han swallows him in one go.
“Keep going,” Lu Han mumbles as his hands busy themselves with touching as much of Yifan as possible, and Yifan wonders how long Lu Han has waited for this. “Don’t think too much,” Lu Han says, his voice full of mirth.
Yifan wants to laugh. Instead, his hands splay Lu Han’s cheeks apart as he licks deliberately up the path to Lu Han’s hole. This draws a wet, desperate sound out of Lu Han. Yifan feels pleased with himself until Lu Han retaliates and does something with his tongue that makes Yifan thrust up, picking up their rhythm until he’s sloppily fucking into Lu Han’s mouth. Lu Han doesn’t complain, but his dick displays more interest and twitches in Yifan’s face. “Fuck,” he growls as Lu Han hollows his cheeks.
“That’s the idea.” Lu Han pops his lips off Yifan’s cock to remind him, and just for that Yifan mouths at Lu Han’s balls and sucks, enjoying the way Lu Han pushes his hips down on Yifan’s face. He makes an incomprehensible noise when Yifan, having coated enough of Lu Han’s precum on fingers, slides one digit into Lu Han. Yifan works a second finger in and, when Lu Han sounds like he’s about to cry, curls his fingers and presses. Lu Han stills and Yifan repeats, stroking Lu Han’s quivering thighs as he finger fucks Lu Han through his sweet, demanding high. Yifan thinks he could do this forever, watching the flush rise over Lu Han’s stomach as he rides out the orgasm. Eventually, Yifan stops and Lu Han relaxes to looks back at him, cheeks red and eyes glassy.
“Are you crying, Xiao Lu?” Yifan asks, grinning when Lu Han gives him a nasty look and squeezes Yifan’s dick.
“I’ll make you cry,” Lu Han murmurs, bringing his face back to Yifan’s dick and swallowing it whole. This effectively shuts Yifan up as Lu Han tightens his grip on the base of Yifan’s dick, stroking and sucking. When Lu Han presses his tongue to Yifan’s slit and twists his grip, Yifan closes his eyes and comes shakily.
Lu Han is sitting up and smiling softly at him when Yifan opens his eyes again. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it when Yifan strokes his cheek with one hand. “Shower?” With a newfound energy that Yifan always envied, Lu Han pulls Yifan up and manhandles him into bathroom.
“You’re strangely comfortable defiling your friend’s place,” Yifan comments as he watches Lu Han riffle through the cabinet for toiletries. He sits on the edge of the bathtub and yelps when Lu Han pushes him over, Yifan’s head narrowing missing the stack of shampoo bottles. He looks up, sprawled across the tub, as Lu Han steps in.
Lu Han turns around to pull the shower curtain shut, giving Yifan another great view of his ass in the process. He turns the showerhead on and, when Yifan stands up to corner him into wall, reaches up to shampoo Yifan’s hair. “This is my place. The lease is in my name,” Lu Han says matter-of-factly as his fingers run through Yifan’s bangs. “I had Lao Gao get this place for me a few months ago. He crashes here, sometimes.”
“So this is the condo you bought for your secret mistress?” Yifan asks, because his humor always failed at times like this. He ducks a little and expects Lu Han to flick foam into his face, but Lu Han just looks at him with an incomprehensible expression on his face.
“I don’t have a mistress,” Lu Han replies quietly, yet surely. “I just have you.”
There’s not much Yifan can say to that, so he boxes Lu Han in and kisses him until they’re both breathless. They clean up in silence until Yifan accidently rams his elbow into the wall, then Lu Han is laughing about his long limbs and throwing a towel at Yifan. “Don’t get the floors wet.”
Yifan wonders if he is dreaming as he dries himself and follows Lu Han into the living room, Lu Han digging through another half-open suitcase on a floor until he finds an overlarge shirt that Yifan recognizes as his own. Then it occurs to Yifan that this is one of this dreams-Lu Han looking at him with a small yet open smile, his skin still pink and steamy, as he reaches for Yifan’s hand. Maybe this is what Yifan had wanted for them years ago, when Yifan could barely dance and stuttered awkwardly whenever he spoke to the shadow trainee from Beijing. Lu Han could have done a number of things when Yifan left, yet here he was, persistently navigating through Yifan’s heart.
“We can make this work,” Yifan decides then, squeezing Lu Han’s hand.
Lu Han smiles but doesn’t say anything, as if he had known how things would play out all along. To Yifan, Lu Han feels less like a fleeting promise and more like surety.