you look just like me (Lay/Han Geng)
you look just like me | lay/han geng | nc-17 | 1327 words | lay meets han geng backstage at the yinyue fengyan bang awards
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Yixing finds himself slammed against the plaster wall backstage with his shiny silver jacket halfway down his arms and the hem of his shirt bunched up far to his nipples. His breath feels hot, at least he thinks, because he’s pressed flush against the stiff and imperious jacket of the older man that’s shoving his pants down and Yixing has never felt this breathless and that steady heat rushing to his face in intervals could only come from his heavy gasps. Right?
He and the rest of EXO M were given strict orders to stay away from this man, as if he’s some dangerous threat to their budding careers. To be honest, Yixing looks up to him, but he’s not allowed to admit it. He thinks Han Geng is one of the best dancers in the Asian music industry and he’s one of the most successful artists in Mainland China. He’s only heard stories about him from his Super Junior sunbaes, and they’re nothing but how sweet Han Geng is to the members and to fans and everyone in general, and when he hears news about him (which is every day; Han Geng is always doing some charity work and some CF for a major brand) it’s nothing but how he is China’s Golden Boy. So Yixing believes all of that. If you take away the intimidating and commanding power and charisma he has on stage while dancing and the fact that the older man has his left hand down Yixing’s pants, roughly and fervently palming his cock, then you’d get the Han Geng Yixing was originally told about.
“You look just like me,” Han Geng breathes, stroking Yixing’s length like a pro and Yixing gasps once more because fuck that feels good. Han Geng’s hands are soft, yet there’s strength in his grip that gives just the right amount of pressure to the underside of his shaft, that shoots a sensation from the base to the tip and Yixing is already leaking and Han Geng’s hand has only been on him for less than three minutes. Yixing finds himself rambling in nonsensical Mandarin about anything and nothing and even he has no idea what he’s saying, only catching the words “wow” and “sunbae-nim” and he wonders why is he speaking Korean to a Chinese person, regardless if he’s fluent.
“In the nose mostly,” Han Geng continues, his teeth and tongue lapping and biting at Yixing’s nipples and Yixing keens at the graze of teeth on his flesh. He’d shoot his load right there but Han Geng has his hand wrapped tightly at the base and Yixing is just clawing at Han Geng’s stiff black jacket. “You have my nose and your jaw is defined like mine. Perhaps they took you in because you look so much like me.”
Yixing is too breathless and too occupied with the flushed feeling his dick has and all the touches Han Geng’s hands and mouth are giving him to notice if that was an insult. “You-you are m-m-my role model, Han Geng lao-shi.” Yixing barely gets out and finds himself bucking his hips to tell Han Geng to jerk him off.
Han Geng notices and chuckles, his form tall and looming and dark with that black jacket still on him. The grip on Yixing’s dick increases and Yixing whimpers.
“I am your role model, eh?” Han Geng’s right hand expertly shoves down Yixing’s pants and briefs and the cool air of the hall hits Yixing’s skin and it sobers him up a little. The younger man’s breath calms and he straightens up a bit; he was nearly sliding down the wall. “I hope no one knows about that.”
Yixing finds the composure to take off Han Geng’s bulky jacket with the metal fringe and sharp baubles on it. He finds it distracting and it’s not fair he’s half naked and Han Geng is fully clothed in that god-awful, garish clothing. What is he talking about his clothing is just as bad.
Han Geng seems to get the hint and his right hand unzips his pants and he pulls his cock out of the fly of his pants and strokes it half-mast to fully erect. Yixing thinks the similarities between him and Han Geng stop at the face and the soft voices and the passion for dance. Han Geng is a pure man down there and Yixing would go flaccid had it not been for the sure grip on his cock still.
“You are a very good dancer,” Han Geng lifts up Yixing’s leg and props it on his shoulder. A pain arcs through Yixing’s legs and his lower back and in the base of his spine because he’s never stretched himself this far. “You have this grace and poise and a serious execution when you land your moves. You are very focused and driven. Just like me.” Yixing opens his eyes and looks at the older man’s surprisingly calm face, experience and controlled strength radiating off his body. Yixing finds himself relaxing, his fingers curling into Han Geng’s shoulders.
Han Geng suddenly slams his cock into Yixing and Yixing lets out a strangled cry at the thickness and he wasn’t prepared for it. It’s a searing pain and it shoots into his balls and it makes him harder. He’s moaning helplessly as Han Geng snaps his hips rather roughly, setting a relentless pace. Yixing remembers Han Geng is known for hip thrusting, feeling the man’s pelvis rut into his backside and thinks he’s going to bruise. Han Geng’s voice is still calm and controlled; in fact, Yixing can hear a hint of mirth in Han Geng’s voice over his moans. He feels that all too familiar feeling pooling in his abdomen and Han Geng grips his shaft once more and Yixing feels spasms course through his body. Desperate for air Yixing gulps and he can hear Han Geng still talk about how well a dancer Yixing is and listing off their similarities and Yixing wonders how Han Geng can be so calm and smooth as he’s pounding mercilessly into him. He hears “I see myself in you” slip from Han Geng’s mouth and Yixing would have laughed at the choice of words had he had any air in his lungs.
“Han Geng lao-shi,” Yixing breathes.
Han Geng chuckles darkly. “Call me gege.” His cock hits that spot inside Yixing and Yixing sees stars and comets and it’s a wonder he hasn’t come yet. He hears himself crying out gege multiple times as Han Geng increases his pace and hits that spot in him randomly and Yixing is never ready for it.
“This will stretch you up nice.” Yixing finds Han Geng leaning in whispering in his ear and that does it for him. He cries out and shoots cum out, splashing all over Han Geng’s hand and his stomach and on Han Geng’s black pants. He feels boneless and leans back into the wall, sighing and moaning as Han Geng still fucks him with an unrelenting pace, and then Han Geng comes with light hiss, and Yixing feels warmth erupt inside him and trickle down his thighs.
It isn’t until Han Geng slips out of him when Yixing feels like he’s been ripped in half. Han Geng smoothly catches Yixing from sliding down onto the floor and quickly helps him with his pants. Han Geng tucks himself in and puts on his jacket and dusts himself off, patting Yixing on the back and smiling and Yixing sees China’s Golden Boy once more, not the man who just fucked him into the wall.
“If you ever want to practice your dance moves,” Han Geng says slipping a card into Yixing’s pocket. “Just call me.”
“I-I- I will.”
Han Geng winks and turns to walk to his dressing room.
“Wow, you look just like me.”
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a/n: what the fuck did I just write
I've got to stop writing smut yup
am I the only one here who sees Han Geng in Yixing? no? well good.
JESUS CHRIST
