fanfic: love is just a bloodsport
title: love is just a bloodsport
pairing: kris/lay
rating: r
word count: 6k
summary: stripper au! kris is a fail crime lord and yixing is a tease.
warning: dirty talk, frotting, i need to learn how to use caps, crack?
A/N: this was originally a drabble i filled at seoulfullness and then turned into something else lol. i hope the anon that originally requested still enjoys it!
the first time wufan spots lay dancing, he asks the club owner about him.
"i don't know much really, just that he likes to play guitar."
wufan watches lay pull a black white beater over his head slowly, hips moving to the hypnotic music seductively. his hands pull at the waistband revealing a sharp hipbone and the soft skin leading just a little further down. when he turns, he catches wufan's eye and the first thing wufan notices is the dimple on his right cheek.
"how much for a private room?"
***
he watches lay dance on a weekly basis now. sometimes in the middle of the crowd, sometimes in a private setting. he likes those better. when lay's attention is solely on him, when he makes him feel like he's the only person he dances for. he knows it's not true but he likes buying into the delusion anyway. that maybe lay likes him.
he tries to ask more about him during the private sessions despite his reluctance to talk about himself, or anything important for that matter. wufan tries, bringing it up casually, conversing in chinese and sometimes even korean. wufan watches him space out sometimes when he's had too much to drink but he doesn't really mind. he finds it kind of charming.
***
"what do you do anyway?" lay asks three months later, pouring a small glass of scotch and taking a seat next to him on the velvet couch, sitting close enough to feel the dip in the fabric not nearly as close as wufan would like.
"it's complicated."
lay rolls his eyes from over the top of the glass, finishing it's contents in one swallow and standing again to set it aside on the counter, "tell me."
"tell me your name."
he laughs and looks away and wufan's mouth waters at his exposed neckline. "you know my name."
"i'm a sort of... entrepreneur. i deal in trade."
"oh, i see. you're, like, some kind of crime lord." lay takes a few steps forward until he's standing in between wufan's knees and it might just be wufan's imagination but he thinks he sees a spark of excitement in his eyes. "right?"
wufan doesn't respond choosing instead to stand, which would be intimidating to anyone else with his height and his glare that could turn even the biggest drug lords into cowards, but the only move lay makes is to turn his head upward, keeping his eyes focused on his, lips parting flirtatiously as wufan looms over him just a hair's breath away. wufan wonders if he feels this too, the electricity between them, the hairs on his arms standing on end as if pulling him closer to the dancer. he wants to know every part of him, not just his body anymore, but his life, his mind. he imagines the look on zitao's face when he's telling him he's fallen for a stripper and has to bite back a laugh.
"you sure you don't want that dance tonight, mr. wufan?" lay asks innocently, his eyes dropping to his chest as he inclines even closer so wufan feels the words against his neck.
the no touching rule will drive him mad at some point he's sure but he wants to test the limits of what he can get away with right now, so he presses his head against lay's and leans in, feeling the soft skin of his ear against his lips when he whispers, "goodnight, lay."
wufan quickly pulls away, his body already aching at the loss of his presence, and walks toward the door.
"yixing."
wufan pauses, hand frozen on the handle as he turns back to see lay looking at him with a glazed expression, and there's no hints of amusement or games on his face when he says it, "my name is yixing. and if you tell anyone, crime lord or not, i'll make sure to have you personally castrated and never allowed back into this or any other club ever again."
wufan's lips turn up softly at the threat. he nods deftly and leaves, heart feeling a little heavier with the weight of knowing the dancer's real name. a little closer.
***
wufan's fingers curl tighter over the leather armrest of the soft loveseat he sits in as the lean dancer on top of him dips backwards, exposing a long plane of naked pale skin, his spine brushing just barely over the top of wufan's knees. he wants so badly to touch, to smooth his palm down slowly over the pert nipples, that taught chest, and into his loose trousers. instead wufan watches the dancer, his own nimble fingers trailing a deft pattern across his stomach, nails brushing just beneath the flimsy fabric, inviting; teasing. the music in the private room is a heavy bass and the lighting dim, creating an erotic and almost claustrophobic feeling. wufan pays top dollar every time he visits tokyo now for this room and every time he asks (demands) for the same person.
"yixing." wufan breathes out the name. his voice is low and hoarse and almost like a warning, causing the dancer to quickly sit up, his face suddenly so close wufan can see the hot flush of his cheeks and the slick spit on his rose colored lips. wufan's lids grow heavy as he watches yixing's tongue snake out to wet them - unnecessary - and wufan imagines how hot that tongue would feel licking along the slit of his leaking cock. yixing's hips rock against his, long, slow, and drawn out, just like everything he does. it's excruciating the second time he does it, head rolling back as he adds a soft moan, his small hand reaching up to find wufan's neck, just barely skirting the soft skin behind his ear. no touching. the warning echos in his mind and when yixing looks back at him, a dimple imprinted on his right cheek and dark eyes full of amusement, wufan knows he's accidentally let the words slip from his mouth.
wufan aches to bury his fingers in that lush mess of amber hair, roughly pull it back, whisper all sorts of filthy things into his ear until yixing is begging for his cock, he wants to hear yixing beg. he wants to make him feel all the frustration and heady desire he's felt since the moment he's laid eyes on the boy. instead he sets his jaw and swallows hard, allowing the dancer full control. he'd touched once and before the other could even begin to illicit a response, whether it be good or bad, security had walked in, grabbing him by the lapels of his expensive armani suit and throwing him out on his ass. he'd been banned from the club for a solid month before finally bribing the owner to allow him back in on the one stipulation that he wasn't to have another private room with yixing ever again.
oops.
"what if i just..." wufan reclines his neck, his head lolling to the side as he lets yixing's lips ghost over his neck, "handcuffed you to me."
yixing chuckles, the sound low and full of empty promises inside his ear.
"i wouldn't be touching you." he continues. "technically."
the dancer's hands are buried in wufan's sandy blonde hair, body pressed flush against his, as he turns wufan's face back to his own. and wufan isn't drunk on alcohol or drugs or any of those substances the overage and unattractive business men come to ease the ache of boredom with. yixing is the picture perfect painting of desire and he's intoxicated. his hair matted to his forehead with the stress of dancing for wufan for more than an hour, his expression full of mirth, and an eyebrow perfectly arched as if entertained with the idea. he holds his gaze and whispers low with complete sincerity, "i'd never let you go."
yixing stares for what feels like minutes that stretch to hours and wufan doesn't care that every second is on his dime. he's intoxicated with just this. yixing.
"time's up." wufan feels the sting of cold air as yixing hops off his lap, heading for the exit and not even sparing a glance back. the break in his voice as he says it, and the way his hand shakes as he runs it through his hair while pulling on the door handle doesn't go unnoticed though.
***
"how do you get close to someone who's, kind of.. emotionally challenged?"
chanyeol groans on the other end of the line, "please tell me my kingpin drug lord is not seriously asking me this question."
"just tell me."
"you're emotionally challenged so i don't know why i'm being asked this."
"i like someone and i think they like me but every time i try to get closer, i'm shut down."
chanyeol mumbles something about him being pathetic before responding, "there are other ways to get closer to people. some people connect more through sex than words."
***
yixing saunters into the dark room, simple white beater and loose sweatpants that hang off the sharp ridges of hips. it's exactly what wufan likes and he knows it. his fringe falls in front of his face and he swings his head to the side, glancing up at wufan as his fingers itch to run through the soft tendrils.
"what do you want tonight?" he sounds agitated, exhausted. wufan wonders how many other men and women he's danced for today. "lap dance? pole dance? maybe you'd like to have a drink for once?"
yixing stands directly in front of him now and wufan pauses, afraid of the response his answer will draw. the dancer's brows furrow even as a grin graces his features, "wufan?"
"i want you to come for me."
yixing's eyebrows shoot so far up his face they get lost in his hairline, "excuse me?"
"i can pay you to do anything as long as i'm not touching you, right?"
"it's a dance club, not a sex club."
"you call grinding your ass against my hard cock for an hour dancing?" wufan sneers.
yixing turns on his heel and wufan is out of his seat and blocking his exit before he can stop himself, "just-" and he's never been good with words. when it came to deals he was a man of few, either resulting in a good and easy exchange or a quick death. his eyes drop to the floor unable to bare yixing's accusing gaze. "i-" he gathers up all the courage he can before he meets his dark eyes again because this is ridiculous, he's dealt with some of the dirtiest people in the world, he's been one of them, and he can't even demand one thing from a dancer, "i know you like it."
yixing laughs and wufan tries to pretend like he can't hear the mockery in it.
"i know you like it. you, yixing. not lay. i've felt you, when you're against me. for fucks sake, you get so hard i can feel the wetness through my shirt."
yixing takes a step forward, closing the distance between them, his chin tipping upward so he can look at him almost pitifully behind dark lashes before whispering, "you're just another face, wufan. another suit." wufan feels nauseous watching yixing falter, glassy eyes blinking and throat constricting, "i'm not a whore. you don't get to tell me when or where to come or how to feel. i'm here to dance. if that's not enough for you anymore, you should find yourself a new toy to play with."
yixing sidesteps him and wufan stares at the empty space in front of him as he overhears him tell the bouncers outside the door, "we're done here for the night. be sure to collect mr. wufan's debt before he leaves."
***
"oh my god." chanyeol kicks wufan in the side eliciting a growl. "you've been in bed for two days straight. get. up."
chanyeol kicks again and this time wufan is ready for it, grabbing hold of his foot and pulling on it, causing him to lose his balance and collapse next to him on the bed. the blonde quickly rolls on top of him, bringing with him a pillow to smother his face and hopefully cause a quick and painless death so he can continue with his self deprecating week of sleep. chanyeol shoves hard and wufan moves back to his original form, groping the pillow and squeezing his eyes shut, willing the world away.
"you're pathetic." chanyeol rolls closer so his lips press against his ear as he booms loudly, "pathetic!"
wufan elbows him hard in the gut, "don't you have something better to do?"
"don't you?" he retorts. "don't you have a drug cartel to run? weapon's trade? a friend to take out to dinner and buy drinks? that friend is me in case you didn't catch that."
wufan rolls his eyes.
"i'm hungry."
"i'm never buying you anything ever again. you ruined my life." wufan whines melodramatically.
"i never told you to just come out and ask him to jizz all over you!"
"that's not-"
"i just told you there were other ways of getting closer to him."
it's been almost three weeks since he's gone to the club, three weeks of glowering at any client that dared to cross his path, three weeks of zitao side-eyeing him when the answer to almost every question had been, 'kill him if he says no', three weeks of no food and a caffeine only diet - though not even that was helping him stay awake now. all he wanted to do was sleep and wake up in a different reality where he had never said those words to yixing and he was still going to the club every night, watching him dance, and jerking off to the feel of his hot skin against his later. jesus, he really was pathetic.
"just go back to the club."
wufan looks over at his best friend, his face surprisingly sympathetic.
"just go and see if he's as relieved to see you as i think he will be."
"and what if he's not?"
"then will you please, please buy me dinner and drinks and get over this."
wufan just snorts rolling back over and burying his head in the comforter.
"and you need to stop killing our clients. i know some of them owe us money but it's how the game works. we'll never see any of that money if your answer is always zitao."
"whatever, then you just make the decisions around here from now on."
"pathetic."
***
wufan paces the private room restlessly, buttoning and unbuttoning his dark suit before finally shuffling it off, folding it over the bar. he's been waiting almost fifteen minutes since walking into the room and requesting yixing. he rubs the back of his neck, absently wondering if yixing was declining his invitation, even after wufan had told the bouncer to offer double the amount he usually does. he furrows his brows, maybe he should've offered triple.
wufan walks to the bar, taking a glass and pouring the first substance he sees. he hates the taste and the way yixing's words echo in the back of his mind, just another suit, but he downs the dark liquor quickly anyway because if he doesn't find something to calm his nerves, he might just leave the room and go find yixing himself. wufan slams the glass back down on the counter and stares at it wondering what the hell it is he would even say if he did see yixing again. he wasn't exactly the apologising type.
"stressed?"
wufan's head snaps toward the sound of the light voice and he lets out a breath he didn't realise he was holding at yixing's relaxed form. his arms look smooth and unblemished in the dim lighting, biceps toned and collarbones on display, the black sweatpants hanging low around his waist look as if they'd slip right off if the string around them were to come undone. yixing tilts his head, bringing his fingers to brush the fringe out of his eyes, full of amusement. wufan likes it when he wears his hair straight like this, none of the fancy products to curl or shape it up. he imagines it's what he looks like when he wakes up in the morning.
when wufan doesn't speak yixing continues softly, "didn't think you were coming back."
"were you waiting for me?" wufan squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head in disgust as he turns away, walking toward the couch. he hates how cliche and vulnerable that came out. he lets out a long sigh as he sits, opening his eyes again to find yixing standing a few feet from him, face blank and unsympathetic.
"what do you want, wufan?"
so many ways to answer the question, wufan doesn't know where to start. instead he licks his lips eyes traveling from yixing's to his neck, then chest, and further down, appreciating every curve and angle he can. it's been too long since he's seen - or felt - him. there are a lot of things wufan wants from yixing and right now only one thing he's offering.
wufan meets his eyes, "lap dance."
yixing doesn't hesitate closing the distance between them, straddling his thighs, sliding down his chest and sinking a delicate hand into his yellow wiry hair, damaged from all the cheap hair dye. wufan's hands grip the armrest as he inhales sharply, his senses suddenly assaulted with yixing, his scent, the feel of his warm body, the teasing fingers in his hair, and it's like coming home. he allows his lips to skirt along the dip of the dancer's neck when he rolls his hips the first time.
"yixing-"
yixing tugs on his hair, pulling his face back so he can look into his eyes, drunk with lust and breathing labored, "talk to me."
wufan's brows furrow, "about what?"
he rocks his hips again and wufan can feel him half hard through the flimsy sweatpants, his erection rubbing against his stomach and fingers clawing at his scalp before he buries his head in his neck and licks. wufan's hands ball into fists and he grits his teeth, this wasn't a fucking lap dance anymore. yixing wasn't following the rules so why should he have to.
"tell me all the things you've wanted to do to me." it's not a plea but a demand and realization dawns that yixing is going to meet his request from three weeks ago as he drags his hips over his crotch and half up his stomach, wrapping an arm around his neck and keeping the other buried in his hair, practically clinging to him as he rides him heated and slow.
"i want to touch you. please, just-"
"keep going."
wufan takes that response as a solid no. he can't remember the last time he'd been denied by the same person so many times. usually he'd have snapped a neck or beaten them half to death by now. and worse, it only serves to heighten his desire, liquid heat pooling in the pit of his stomach, his dick growing hard at the feel of yixing getting off on him, in every sense of the word. the dancer's panting against his neck is making his skin damp and he craves to feel his tongue again, lips sucking at his pulse.
"wufan." this time it comes out as more of a plea and wufan moans because yixing is begging.
"alright. what scenario do you want? my bed? shower? floor? a fucking airplane? because i swear to god i've had you every place you can think of."
yixing shudders against him, hips hitching and pacing uneven and wufan's cock hurts from all the friction but he doesn't care because the way yixing looks now pulling back with his eyes half lidded and lips parted, body aching for a good fuck, has him feeling more pleasure than pain. yixing presses his forehead to his, dark eyes staring unfocused on his lips, the hand in his hair sliding from his head down his chest, fisting wufan's pressed button-up shirt and yanking it from where it sits tucked in his slacks. yixing's hand snakes underneath, palm splayed across his stomach and running up his chest and wufan is sure his fingers have torn through the leather of the armrests now as he tries to focus on his self-restraint.
"you're not talking."
wufan glares at him, "i want you to suck my cock."
"wow. how boring." yixing sounds breathless, a dimple shows with a slight grin as his hand drifts from his chest leaning back with his other hand still resting firmly on wufan's shoulder. "never heard that one before."
"you've done this with other clients?"
yixing doesn't answer, instead burying his face back in his neck and finding a better angle alongside his hip, more friction for his cock, now wet and spotting his pants as wufan looks down to check.
"i want to know what your come tastes like." he whispers into his ear and is rewarded with a particularly hard thrust and low mewl. wufan wonders how close he is. "you have no idea how badly i want to bend you over this chair and fuck your tight little ass."
yixing's moan is loud and unabashed and wufan's hands are aching to bring him off, wrap around his cock, do anything but grab onto this gross leather any longer, "christ, just let me-"
and yixing must've sensed his movement because he barks, "no!" and wufan can't hold back his anger and frustration any longer, doing the only thing he can by meeting yixing's uneven pace, growling the first derogatory name he can think of and biting down hard on the soft lobe yixing seems to be offering up on a silver platter. yixing stills, nails digging into the soft skin of his scalp and shoulders and lets out something between a whine and a broken sob, and wufan can feel hot spurts of come filling his sweatpants, damp against his open shirt.
wufan bites his tongue as yixing's lithe form goes lax on top of him, his own body still aching for release. they sit like that for a few moments, wufan unsure of what to say next and yixing trying to catch his breath, his face still buried in the crook of his neck. when wufan feels yixing's lashes against his neck blinking rapidly and a familiar wetness starting to slide down his shoulder he stills.
"yixing-" he doesn't get a chance to finish as yixing's walking to the exit and before he can reach out a hand to stop him, security is there shoving him back.
***
wufan goes back to the club the next day only to be told yixing has quit. after a long conversation and a lot of money, he finally manages to get a cellphone number and address to find the apartment vacant and the number no longer in service.
***
"you should come back to china for awhile, duizhang." zitao says gently.
"what for?"
"there's business to be-"
"i know." wufan snaps and immediately regrets it when he sees the hurt look on his friend's face. "alright."
zitao's eyes snap to his with a stunned expression and wufan forces a small smile. "let's go home."
***
the dealings in changsha are the same as in tokyo and the same as in seoul. some are bloody, most are easy and quiet. wufan finds himself getting bored with it. he has enough money now to retire, but the thought of leaving zitao alone in this line of work isn't entirely comforting. he opens the fridge taking a bottle of water and placing it behind his neck, closes his eyes and tries to relax against the coolness. he'd resigned himself to the fact that whatever happened to yixing, he didn't want to be found. wufan had spent a few weeks asking around, trying to find him, but it was almost as if he'd never existed. wherever he was, it wasn't tokyo. he'd given up when the realization of what an actual creep he was hit him. wufan had hardly known him and despite wanting the chance to, yixing had made it clear he wasn't interested.
"chanyeol says business in seoul is good." zitao breaks his train of thought and he looks over at where he sits on the cream colored sofa playing video games. "he wants to come see us next weekend."
"whatever." wufan trudges over to the living area, grabbing a remote and slouching against the couch. "he's staying in your room."
zitao snorts. "i'm going to an art gala tomorrow. you should come."
"a what?"
"a friend of mine, he's been taking photographs all semester for his final midterm at university. the professor was so impressed they decided to host a gala for him at a small center in the city."
"sounds lame." wufan's motor cart bumps into zitao's on the screen, nearly driving it off a bridge and he smirks.
"what've you got that's better to do? you don't do anything but work and mope around reading and playing video games with me lately. it might do you some good to go out for a change."
zitao mumbles something under his breath that wufan doesn't quite catch.
"what was that?"
he drops the remote and turns to look him in the eye, "i said sometimes i think it was better in tokyo. then that stupid stripper could lighten your pms at least three days out of the week."
wufan's jaw drops and his eyes grow murderous.
"you know, we have strippers here in changsha too if that's the only thing that gets you off."
"it was never about the stripping! it was about-"
"him. i know." zitao growls. "look around you, wufan. you have everything. money to last you twelve lifetimes, friends that would die for you, and you- you're really hot. and tall. okay? so start counting your fucking blessings."
wufan sets his jaw. it wasn't like he was miserable or living without reason but it was true. he can't remember the last time he took zitao out for drinks and just gotten wasted, forgetting all his problems and worries. can't remember the last time he really lived instead of just existed, and he knows zitao probably misses that too.
"you're right. i'm sorry."
zitao doesn't respond, picking up his remote. wufan doesn't miss the small smile though.
"so when is this gala, anyway?"
***
wufan runs a hand through his hair once more and straightens his tie before entering the small gala. his black suit hugs in all the right places and his white pressed shirt feels snug against his chest. zitao had told him to dress up and when he walks inside to see people in casual clothing and summer dresses, his ears immediately redden. he hears zitao before he sees him, covering his mouth trying to muffle the laughter from across the room.
wufan takes long strides until he's face to face with the culprit, "you're an asshole."
zitao only laughs harder, his eyes gathering tears, "duizhang, i told you to dress up for a gala, not a ball!"
wufan's eyes only narrow further, taking in zitao's appearance of a button up plaid shirt with low rise jeans. he's about to turn on his heel and walk out the way he came when he spots a large photograph on display, just behind zitao against the furthest end of the room. it's a picture of a boy with straight hair that falls just over his eyes, hunched over an acoustic guitar, a blue v-neck that dips just enough to show a gratuitous amount of collarbone and shoulder. wufan swallows at the unmistakable dimple on the right cheek and takes a step past zitao, his gaze falling to the two figures standing in front of the large photograph. their backs to him with one whispering into the other boy's ear and laughing, his hand around the boy's waist tugging him closer, jeans riding just barely off the top's of his hips. unmistakably yixing.
wufan walks slowly to their end of the room and stands behind them until the one clinging to yixing takes notice of him and quirks a brow smiling, "sorry, are we in the way?"
wufan ignores the impulse to punch the kid in the face and turns to yixing, watching the smile on his face falter as he registers who he is. wufan's expression hardens. this entire time he'd been miserable, all the questions and wondering, and yixing had simply skipped town with a boyfriend. the brunette still holding to yixing seems to notice the change in atmosphere and glances between them both, "do you two know each other?"
yixing opens his mouth to speak but when nothing comes out wufan glares at the stage five clinger next to him, asking curtly, "could you excuse us for a minute?"
"luhan!" zitao interrupts, taking clingy by the hand and pulling him away from yixing. "wufan, this is luhan, my friend from university i was telling you about."
"wufan?" luhan looks toward yixing and wufan wonders if he's told him about him.
yixing, seemingly regaining his ability to speak, scratches the back of his neck and looks helplessly toward luhan, "could you give us a minute?"
luhan nods and looks back to wufan wearily before allowing zitao to guide him toward a group of people staring at a landscape photo a few feet away.
yixing turns back to the photograph but wufan doesn't budge, staring him down and doing his best to make the atmosphere as uncomfortable as possible. as uncomfortable as wufan's life has been for the past three months.
"luhan took this one-"
"you could start with an apology-"
yixing turns to him suddenly, his expression comical, "do you wear that suit wherever you go?"
"-and then an explanation." wufan hopes the embarrassment doesn't show on his face at yixing's retort.
"i don't owe you anything."
wufan can feel an anger he hadn't realised he was carrying around swell as he steps forward, "you know damn well that's not true."
"i don't know what the hell you're talking about!" yixing swallows.
wufan sighs in frustration, "that night... you just left. i came back the next day and they'd told me you quit."
"you could've asked for a phone number if you were that concerned."
"i was!" wufan retorts, stunned. "i did. the number was out of service and there was nothing at your apartment."
"but.. i told kai, if you came around. i told him to give you my number if you asked."
"who the hell is kai?"
"who did you ask?"
"the owner, obviously."
"the owner that had you thrown out of the club and only let you back in on the one rule you were never to see me again?"
wufan stares at him dumbfounded.
"why didn't you just ask one of the dancers?"
"i didn't... i don't know, i just thought the owner was telling me the truth when he gave me the information. it wasn't like he gave it to me willingly."
yixing snorts, "how the hell are you a crime lord?"
wufan is starting to wonder himself. he watches yixing turn back to the photograph, a wry grin on his lips and wufan can't stop the wide smile that stretches his face at the complete ridiculousness of the situation and the months spent thinking yixing wanted nothing to do with him. the smile quickly turns to a frown though when he thinks of how quickly he'd given up and the fact that the may have lost yixing anyway due to this stupid misunderstanding. whoever this luhan was, it was obvious they were close.
"he's not my boyfriend." yixing says, eyes still on the photograph.
"oh, you don't have to- i mean, it's not any of my-"
"you were wondering." yixing looks down at his shoes and tips his head just slightly in wufan's direction, eyes peering up at him mischievously through soft bangs.
wufan grins, "yeah. i was."
yixing turns again to the photograph and wufan takes a step closer and he's suddenly reminded of the heady feeling he gets being near him, his pulse racing just a little faster.
"so, why did you leave?"
"i was only working there to put myself through school."
"you quit school too?"
yixing rolls his eyes, "i'd finished school two months before i left, wufan."
"then why did you-" wufan stops himself, his heart sinking into his stomach.
when yixing doesn't respond and still refuses to face him, wufan stands in front of the photograph and sees yixing's eyes glassy and face vulnerable. wufan's hand finds his, lacing their fingers together and tugging slightly and the realization that this is the first time wufan has ever touched him without the threat of getting punched or rejected isn't lost on either of them.
"why didn't you just tell me?"
"i was scared." yixing's eyes seem to dart everywhere, unable to stay on him, and he pulls his hand back from wufan's. "i didn't know if my feelings were real, i didn't know if you were just using me or when you would get bored of me. that night... i knew. i knew i was falling for you and all i kept getting from you was money. more money for me to do more things. i knew i couldn't stay after that, and if you wanted more you'd probably come looking for me."
"i want more." wufan says with complete clarity.
yixing's eyes finally meet his and he hopes it's enough. he regrets not saying anything sooner, offering money instead of just outright asking for fear of rejection.
"do you have a pen?"
"one second." wufan half jogs to the counter at the entrance that holds pamphlets and pens, he grabs the first one he sees and sighs contently at the sound of yixing's laugh when he reaches him again. yixing takes the pen and grabs his hand, leaning in close enough that wufan can breathe in the vanilla scent of his shampoo and aftershave. he flattens his palm and scrawls a number down before looking up at him, "that's my real number." wufan grins and wraps his large fingers around his wrist before he can pull away, just taking a moment to linger in the closeness. wufan drinks in the sight of his bottom lip and the dent of his dimple on his cheek and the way his lashes flutter against the top of his fringe.
"thanks." wufan whispers and finally lets go, his grin growing wider at the dazed expression staring back at him.
***
wufan sits in the coffee shop at 8 in the morning, foot tapping impatiently against the chair opposite him. yixing was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago. wufan checks his watch again and hears the door chime as another person enters, he grins when he sees the light blue hoodie and loose sweats, thick rimmed glasses perched on top of his nose looking around like a lost puppy. wufan sees the guitar slung across his shoulder and back and makes a mental note to request a song as soon as possible. yixing's eyes find his and he smiles brightly, and approaches as wufan opens his mouth, "i got you a caramel macch-"
and yixing is kissing him, thin lips pressed chaste against his, a hand coming up to rest on his neck, thumb drawing slow circles behind his ear before he pulls away slightly, "i hope kissing on the first date is alright with you."
wufan smiles so big he's afraid more gum than teeth is showing and usually he hates that but yixing's grin only seems to widen so he doesn't really mind this once.
"i'm usually a second date kind of person but i'll make an exception since you seem so desperate." wufan whispers, eyes watching his lips as he laughs. wufan presses one more kiss against his smiling mouth before he feels a hand pushing him back and yixing is taking a seat across from him at the table.
pairing: kris/lay
rating: r
word count: 6k
summary: stripper au! kris is a fail crime lord and yixing is a tease.
warning: dirty talk, frotting, i need to learn how to use caps, crack?
A/N: this was originally a drabble i filled at seoulfullness and then turned into something else lol. i hope the anon that originally requested still enjoys it!
the first time wufan spots lay dancing, he asks the club owner about him.
"i don't know much really, just that he likes to play guitar."
wufan watches lay pull a black white beater over his head slowly, hips moving to the hypnotic music seductively. his hands pull at the waistband revealing a sharp hipbone and the soft skin leading just a little further down. when he turns, he catches wufan's eye and the first thing wufan notices is the dimple on his right cheek.
"how much for a private room?"
***
he watches lay dance on a weekly basis now. sometimes in the middle of the crowd, sometimes in a private setting. he likes those better. when lay's attention is solely on him, when he makes him feel like he's the only person he dances for. he knows it's not true but he likes buying into the delusion anyway. that maybe lay likes him.
he tries to ask more about him during the private sessions despite his reluctance to talk about himself, or anything important for that matter. wufan tries, bringing it up casually, conversing in chinese and sometimes even korean. wufan watches him space out sometimes when he's had too much to drink but he doesn't really mind. he finds it kind of charming.
***
"what do you do anyway?" lay asks three months later, pouring a small glass of scotch and taking a seat next to him on the velvet couch, sitting close enough to feel the dip in the fabric not nearly as close as wufan would like.
"it's complicated."
lay rolls his eyes from over the top of the glass, finishing it's contents in one swallow and standing again to set it aside on the counter, "tell me."
"tell me your name."
he laughs and looks away and wufan's mouth waters at his exposed neckline. "you know my name."
"i'm a sort of... entrepreneur. i deal in trade."
"oh, i see. you're, like, some kind of crime lord." lay takes a few steps forward until he's standing in between wufan's knees and it might just be wufan's imagination but he thinks he sees a spark of excitement in his eyes. "right?"
wufan doesn't respond choosing instead to stand, which would be intimidating to anyone else with his height and his glare that could turn even the biggest drug lords into cowards, but the only move lay makes is to turn his head upward, keeping his eyes focused on his, lips parting flirtatiously as wufan looms over him just a hair's breath away. wufan wonders if he feels this too, the electricity between them, the hairs on his arms standing on end as if pulling him closer to the dancer. he wants to know every part of him, not just his body anymore, but his life, his mind. he imagines the look on zitao's face when he's telling him he's fallen for a stripper and has to bite back a laugh.
"you sure you don't want that dance tonight, mr. wufan?" lay asks innocently, his eyes dropping to his chest as he inclines even closer so wufan feels the words against his neck.
the no touching rule will drive him mad at some point he's sure but he wants to test the limits of what he can get away with right now, so he presses his head against lay's and leans in, feeling the soft skin of his ear against his lips when he whispers, "goodnight, lay."
wufan quickly pulls away, his body already aching at the loss of his presence, and walks toward the door.
"yixing."
wufan pauses, hand frozen on the handle as he turns back to see lay looking at him with a glazed expression, and there's no hints of amusement or games on his face when he says it, "my name is yixing. and if you tell anyone, crime lord or not, i'll make sure to have you personally castrated and never allowed back into this or any other club ever again."
wufan's lips turn up softly at the threat. he nods deftly and leaves, heart feeling a little heavier with the weight of knowing the dancer's real name. a little closer.
***
wufan's fingers curl tighter over the leather armrest of the soft loveseat he sits in as the lean dancer on top of him dips backwards, exposing a long plane of naked pale skin, his spine brushing just barely over the top of wufan's knees. he wants so badly to touch, to smooth his palm down slowly over the pert nipples, that taught chest, and into his loose trousers. instead wufan watches the dancer, his own nimble fingers trailing a deft pattern across his stomach, nails brushing just beneath the flimsy fabric, inviting; teasing. the music in the private room is a heavy bass and the lighting dim, creating an erotic and almost claustrophobic feeling. wufan pays top dollar every time he visits tokyo now for this room and every time he asks (demands) for the same person.
"yixing." wufan breathes out the name. his voice is low and hoarse and almost like a warning, causing the dancer to quickly sit up, his face suddenly so close wufan can see the hot flush of his cheeks and the slick spit on his rose colored lips. wufan's lids grow heavy as he watches yixing's tongue snake out to wet them - unnecessary - and wufan imagines how hot that tongue would feel licking along the slit of his leaking cock. yixing's hips rock against his, long, slow, and drawn out, just like everything he does. it's excruciating the second time he does it, head rolling back as he adds a soft moan, his small hand reaching up to find wufan's neck, just barely skirting the soft skin behind his ear. no touching. the warning echos in his mind and when yixing looks back at him, a dimple imprinted on his right cheek and dark eyes full of amusement, wufan knows he's accidentally let the words slip from his mouth.
wufan aches to bury his fingers in that lush mess of amber hair, roughly pull it back, whisper all sorts of filthy things into his ear until yixing is begging for his cock, he wants to hear yixing beg. he wants to make him feel all the frustration and heady desire he's felt since the moment he's laid eyes on the boy. instead he sets his jaw and swallows hard, allowing the dancer full control. he'd touched once and before the other could even begin to illicit a response, whether it be good or bad, security had walked in, grabbing him by the lapels of his expensive armani suit and throwing him out on his ass. he'd been banned from the club for a solid month before finally bribing the owner to allow him back in on the one stipulation that he wasn't to have another private room with yixing ever again.
oops.
"what if i just..." wufan reclines his neck, his head lolling to the side as he lets yixing's lips ghost over his neck, "handcuffed you to me."
yixing chuckles, the sound low and full of empty promises inside his ear.
"i wouldn't be touching you." he continues. "technically."
the dancer's hands are buried in wufan's sandy blonde hair, body pressed flush against his, as he turns wufan's face back to his own. and wufan isn't drunk on alcohol or drugs or any of those substances the overage and unattractive business men come to ease the ache of boredom with. yixing is the picture perfect painting of desire and he's intoxicated. his hair matted to his forehead with the stress of dancing for wufan for more than an hour, his expression full of mirth, and an eyebrow perfectly arched as if entertained with the idea. he holds his gaze and whispers low with complete sincerity, "i'd never let you go."
yixing stares for what feels like minutes that stretch to hours and wufan doesn't care that every second is on his dime. he's intoxicated with just this. yixing.
"time's up." wufan feels the sting of cold air as yixing hops off his lap, heading for the exit and not even sparing a glance back. the break in his voice as he says it, and the way his hand shakes as he runs it through his hair while pulling on the door handle doesn't go unnoticed though.
***
"how do you get close to someone who's, kind of.. emotionally challenged?"
chanyeol groans on the other end of the line, "please tell me my kingpin drug lord is not seriously asking me this question."
"just tell me."
"you're emotionally challenged so i don't know why i'm being asked this."
"i like someone and i think they like me but every time i try to get closer, i'm shut down."
chanyeol mumbles something about him being pathetic before responding, "there are other ways to get closer to people. some people connect more through sex than words."
***
yixing saunters into the dark room, simple white beater and loose sweatpants that hang off the sharp ridges of hips. it's exactly what wufan likes and he knows it. his fringe falls in front of his face and he swings his head to the side, glancing up at wufan as his fingers itch to run through the soft tendrils.
"what do you want tonight?" he sounds agitated, exhausted. wufan wonders how many other men and women he's danced for today. "lap dance? pole dance? maybe you'd like to have a drink for once?"
yixing stands directly in front of him now and wufan pauses, afraid of the response his answer will draw. the dancer's brows furrow even as a grin graces his features, "wufan?"
"i want you to come for me."
yixing's eyebrows shoot so far up his face they get lost in his hairline, "excuse me?"
"i can pay you to do anything as long as i'm not touching you, right?"
"it's a dance club, not a sex club."
"you call grinding your ass against my hard cock for an hour dancing?" wufan sneers.
yixing turns on his heel and wufan is out of his seat and blocking his exit before he can stop himself, "just-" and he's never been good with words. when it came to deals he was a man of few, either resulting in a good and easy exchange or a quick death. his eyes drop to the floor unable to bare yixing's accusing gaze. "i-" he gathers up all the courage he can before he meets his dark eyes again because this is ridiculous, he's dealt with some of the dirtiest people in the world, he's been one of them, and he can't even demand one thing from a dancer, "i know you like it."
yixing laughs and wufan tries to pretend like he can't hear the mockery in it.
"i know you like it. you, yixing. not lay. i've felt you, when you're against me. for fucks sake, you get so hard i can feel the wetness through my shirt."
yixing takes a step forward, closing the distance between them, his chin tipping upward so he can look at him almost pitifully behind dark lashes before whispering, "you're just another face, wufan. another suit." wufan feels nauseous watching yixing falter, glassy eyes blinking and throat constricting, "i'm not a whore. you don't get to tell me when or where to come or how to feel. i'm here to dance. if that's not enough for you anymore, you should find yourself a new toy to play with."
yixing sidesteps him and wufan stares at the empty space in front of him as he overhears him tell the bouncers outside the door, "we're done here for the night. be sure to collect mr. wufan's debt before he leaves."
***
"oh my god." chanyeol kicks wufan in the side eliciting a growl. "you've been in bed for two days straight. get. up."
chanyeol kicks again and this time wufan is ready for it, grabbing hold of his foot and pulling on it, causing him to lose his balance and collapse next to him on the bed. the blonde quickly rolls on top of him, bringing with him a pillow to smother his face and hopefully cause a quick and painless death so he can continue with his self deprecating week of sleep. chanyeol shoves hard and wufan moves back to his original form, groping the pillow and squeezing his eyes shut, willing the world away.
"you're pathetic." chanyeol rolls closer so his lips press against his ear as he booms loudly, "pathetic!"
wufan elbows him hard in the gut, "don't you have something better to do?"
"don't you?" he retorts. "don't you have a drug cartel to run? weapon's trade? a friend to take out to dinner and buy drinks? that friend is me in case you didn't catch that."
wufan rolls his eyes.
"i'm hungry."
"i'm never buying you anything ever again. you ruined my life." wufan whines melodramatically.
"i never told you to just come out and ask him to jizz all over you!"
"that's not-"
"i just told you there were other ways of getting closer to him."
it's been almost three weeks since he's gone to the club, three weeks of glowering at any client that dared to cross his path, three weeks of zitao side-eyeing him when the answer to almost every question had been, 'kill him if he says no', three weeks of no food and a caffeine only diet - though not even that was helping him stay awake now. all he wanted to do was sleep and wake up in a different reality where he had never said those words to yixing and he was still going to the club every night, watching him dance, and jerking off to the feel of his hot skin against his later. jesus, he really was pathetic.
"just go back to the club."
wufan looks over at his best friend, his face surprisingly sympathetic.
"just go and see if he's as relieved to see you as i think he will be."
"and what if he's not?"
"then will you please, please buy me dinner and drinks and get over this."
wufan just snorts rolling back over and burying his head in the comforter.
"and you need to stop killing our clients. i know some of them owe us money but it's how the game works. we'll never see any of that money if your answer is always zitao."
"whatever, then you just make the decisions around here from now on."
"pathetic."
***
wufan paces the private room restlessly, buttoning and unbuttoning his dark suit before finally shuffling it off, folding it over the bar. he's been waiting almost fifteen minutes since walking into the room and requesting yixing. he rubs the back of his neck, absently wondering if yixing was declining his invitation, even after wufan had told the bouncer to offer double the amount he usually does. he furrows his brows, maybe he should've offered triple.
wufan walks to the bar, taking a glass and pouring the first substance he sees. he hates the taste and the way yixing's words echo in the back of his mind, just another suit, but he downs the dark liquor quickly anyway because if he doesn't find something to calm his nerves, he might just leave the room and go find yixing himself. wufan slams the glass back down on the counter and stares at it wondering what the hell it is he would even say if he did see yixing again. he wasn't exactly the apologising type.
"stressed?"
wufan's head snaps toward the sound of the light voice and he lets out a breath he didn't realise he was holding at yixing's relaxed form. his arms look smooth and unblemished in the dim lighting, biceps toned and collarbones on display, the black sweatpants hanging low around his waist look as if they'd slip right off if the string around them were to come undone. yixing tilts his head, bringing his fingers to brush the fringe out of his eyes, full of amusement. wufan likes it when he wears his hair straight like this, none of the fancy products to curl or shape it up. he imagines it's what he looks like when he wakes up in the morning.
when wufan doesn't speak yixing continues softly, "didn't think you were coming back."
"were you waiting for me?" wufan squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head in disgust as he turns away, walking toward the couch. he hates how cliche and vulnerable that came out. he lets out a long sigh as he sits, opening his eyes again to find yixing standing a few feet from him, face blank and unsympathetic.
"what do you want, wufan?"
so many ways to answer the question, wufan doesn't know where to start. instead he licks his lips eyes traveling from yixing's to his neck, then chest, and further down, appreciating every curve and angle he can. it's been too long since he's seen - or felt - him. there are a lot of things wufan wants from yixing and right now only one thing he's offering.
wufan meets his eyes, "lap dance."
yixing doesn't hesitate closing the distance between them, straddling his thighs, sliding down his chest and sinking a delicate hand into his yellow wiry hair, damaged from all the cheap hair dye. wufan's hands grip the armrest as he inhales sharply, his senses suddenly assaulted with yixing, his scent, the feel of his warm body, the teasing fingers in his hair, and it's like coming home. he allows his lips to skirt along the dip of the dancer's neck when he rolls his hips the first time.
"yixing-"
yixing tugs on his hair, pulling his face back so he can look into his eyes, drunk with lust and breathing labored, "talk to me."
wufan's brows furrow, "about what?"
he rocks his hips again and wufan can feel him half hard through the flimsy sweatpants, his erection rubbing against his stomach and fingers clawing at his scalp before he buries his head in his neck and licks. wufan's hands ball into fists and he grits his teeth, this wasn't a fucking lap dance anymore. yixing wasn't following the rules so why should he have to.
"tell me all the things you've wanted to do to me." it's not a plea but a demand and realization dawns that yixing is going to meet his request from three weeks ago as he drags his hips over his crotch and half up his stomach, wrapping an arm around his neck and keeping the other buried in his hair, practically clinging to him as he rides him heated and slow.
"i want to touch you. please, just-"
"keep going."
wufan takes that response as a solid no. he can't remember the last time he'd been denied by the same person so many times. usually he'd have snapped a neck or beaten them half to death by now. and worse, it only serves to heighten his desire, liquid heat pooling in the pit of his stomach, his dick growing hard at the feel of yixing getting off on him, in every sense of the word. the dancer's panting against his neck is making his skin damp and he craves to feel his tongue again, lips sucking at his pulse.
"wufan." this time it comes out as more of a plea and wufan moans because yixing is begging.
"alright. what scenario do you want? my bed? shower? floor? a fucking airplane? because i swear to god i've had you every place you can think of."
yixing shudders against him, hips hitching and pacing uneven and wufan's cock hurts from all the friction but he doesn't care because the way yixing looks now pulling back with his eyes half lidded and lips parted, body aching for a good fuck, has him feeling more pleasure than pain. yixing presses his forehead to his, dark eyes staring unfocused on his lips, the hand in his hair sliding from his head down his chest, fisting wufan's pressed button-up shirt and yanking it from where it sits tucked in his slacks. yixing's hand snakes underneath, palm splayed across his stomach and running up his chest and wufan is sure his fingers have torn through the leather of the armrests now as he tries to focus on his self-restraint.
"you're not talking."
wufan glares at him, "i want you to suck my cock."
"wow. how boring." yixing sounds breathless, a dimple shows with a slight grin as his hand drifts from his chest leaning back with his other hand still resting firmly on wufan's shoulder. "never heard that one before."
"you've done this with other clients?"
yixing doesn't answer, instead burying his face back in his neck and finding a better angle alongside his hip, more friction for his cock, now wet and spotting his pants as wufan looks down to check.
"i want to know what your come tastes like." he whispers into his ear and is rewarded with a particularly hard thrust and low mewl. wufan wonders how close he is. "you have no idea how badly i want to bend you over this chair and fuck your tight little ass."
yixing's moan is loud and unabashed and wufan's hands are aching to bring him off, wrap around his cock, do anything but grab onto this gross leather any longer, "christ, just let me-"
and yixing must've sensed his movement because he barks, "no!" and wufan can't hold back his anger and frustration any longer, doing the only thing he can by meeting yixing's uneven pace, growling the first derogatory name he can think of and biting down hard on the soft lobe yixing seems to be offering up on a silver platter. yixing stills, nails digging into the soft skin of his scalp and shoulders and lets out something between a whine and a broken sob, and wufan can feel hot spurts of come filling his sweatpants, damp against his open shirt.
wufan bites his tongue as yixing's lithe form goes lax on top of him, his own body still aching for release. they sit like that for a few moments, wufan unsure of what to say next and yixing trying to catch his breath, his face still buried in the crook of his neck. when wufan feels yixing's lashes against his neck blinking rapidly and a familiar wetness starting to slide down his shoulder he stills.
"yixing-" he doesn't get a chance to finish as yixing's walking to the exit and before he can reach out a hand to stop him, security is there shoving him back.
***
wufan goes back to the club the next day only to be told yixing has quit. after a long conversation and a lot of money, he finally manages to get a cellphone number and address to find the apartment vacant and the number no longer in service.
***
"you should come back to china for awhile, duizhang." zitao says gently.
"what for?"
"there's business to be-"
"i know." wufan snaps and immediately regrets it when he sees the hurt look on his friend's face. "alright."
zitao's eyes snap to his with a stunned expression and wufan forces a small smile. "let's go home."
***
the dealings in changsha are the same as in tokyo and the same as in seoul. some are bloody, most are easy and quiet. wufan finds himself getting bored with it. he has enough money now to retire, but the thought of leaving zitao alone in this line of work isn't entirely comforting. he opens the fridge taking a bottle of water and placing it behind his neck, closes his eyes and tries to relax against the coolness. he'd resigned himself to the fact that whatever happened to yixing, he didn't want to be found. wufan had spent a few weeks asking around, trying to find him, but it was almost as if he'd never existed. wherever he was, it wasn't tokyo. he'd given up when the realization of what an actual creep he was hit him. wufan had hardly known him and despite wanting the chance to, yixing had made it clear he wasn't interested.
"chanyeol says business in seoul is good." zitao breaks his train of thought and he looks over at where he sits on the cream colored sofa playing video games. "he wants to come see us next weekend."
"whatever." wufan trudges over to the living area, grabbing a remote and slouching against the couch. "he's staying in your room."
zitao snorts. "i'm going to an art gala tomorrow. you should come."
"a what?"
"a friend of mine, he's been taking photographs all semester for his final midterm at university. the professor was so impressed they decided to host a gala for him at a small center in the city."
"sounds lame." wufan's motor cart bumps into zitao's on the screen, nearly driving it off a bridge and he smirks.
"what've you got that's better to do? you don't do anything but work and mope around reading and playing video games with me lately. it might do you some good to go out for a change."
zitao mumbles something under his breath that wufan doesn't quite catch.
"what was that?"
he drops the remote and turns to look him in the eye, "i said sometimes i think it was better in tokyo. then that stupid stripper could lighten your pms at least three days out of the week."
wufan's jaw drops and his eyes grow murderous.
"you know, we have strippers here in changsha too if that's the only thing that gets you off."
"it was never about the stripping! it was about-"
"him. i know." zitao growls. "look around you, wufan. you have everything. money to last you twelve lifetimes, friends that would die for you, and you- you're really hot. and tall. okay? so start counting your fucking blessings."
wufan sets his jaw. it wasn't like he was miserable or living without reason but it was true. he can't remember the last time he took zitao out for drinks and just gotten wasted, forgetting all his problems and worries. can't remember the last time he really lived instead of just existed, and he knows zitao probably misses that too.
"you're right. i'm sorry."
zitao doesn't respond, picking up his remote. wufan doesn't miss the small smile though.
"so when is this gala, anyway?"
***
wufan runs a hand through his hair once more and straightens his tie before entering the small gala. his black suit hugs in all the right places and his white pressed shirt feels snug against his chest. zitao had told him to dress up and when he walks inside to see people in casual clothing and summer dresses, his ears immediately redden. he hears zitao before he sees him, covering his mouth trying to muffle the laughter from across the room.
wufan takes long strides until he's face to face with the culprit, "you're an asshole."
zitao only laughs harder, his eyes gathering tears, "duizhang, i told you to dress up for a gala, not a ball!"
wufan's eyes only narrow further, taking in zitao's appearance of a button up plaid shirt with low rise jeans. he's about to turn on his heel and walk out the way he came when he spots a large photograph on display, just behind zitao against the furthest end of the room. it's a picture of a boy with straight hair that falls just over his eyes, hunched over an acoustic guitar, a blue v-neck that dips just enough to show a gratuitous amount of collarbone and shoulder. wufan swallows at the unmistakable dimple on the right cheek and takes a step past zitao, his gaze falling to the two figures standing in front of the large photograph. their backs to him with one whispering into the other boy's ear and laughing, his hand around the boy's waist tugging him closer, jeans riding just barely off the top's of his hips. unmistakably yixing.
wufan walks slowly to their end of the room and stands behind them until the one clinging to yixing takes notice of him and quirks a brow smiling, "sorry, are we in the way?"
wufan ignores the impulse to punch the kid in the face and turns to yixing, watching the smile on his face falter as he registers who he is. wufan's expression hardens. this entire time he'd been miserable, all the questions and wondering, and yixing had simply skipped town with a boyfriend. the brunette still holding to yixing seems to notice the change in atmosphere and glances between them both, "do you two know each other?"
yixing opens his mouth to speak but when nothing comes out wufan glares at the stage five clinger next to him, asking curtly, "could you excuse us for a minute?"
"luhan!" zitao interrupts, taking clingy by the hand and pulling him away from yixing. "wufan, this is luhan, my friend from university i was telling you about."
"wufan?" luhan looks toward yixing and wufan wonders if he's told him about him.
yixing, seemingly regaining his ability to speak, scratches the back of his neck and looks helplessly toward luhan, "could you give us a minute?"
luhan nods and looks back to wufan wearily before allowing zitao to guide him toward a group of people staring at a landscape photo a few feet away.
yixing turns back to the photograph but wufan doesn't budge, staring him down and doing his best to make the atmosphere as uncomfortable as possible. as uncomfortable as wufan's life has been for the past three months.
"luhan took this one-"
"you could start with an apology-"
yixing turns to him suddenly, his expression comical, "do you wear that suit wherever you go?"
"-and then an explanation." wufan hopes the embarrassment doesn't show on his face at yixing's retort.
"i don't owe you anything."
wufan can feel an anger he hadn't realised he was carrying around swell as he steps forward, "you know damn well that's not true."
"i don't know what the hell you're talking about!" yixing swallows.
wufan sighs in frustration, "that night... you just left. i came back the next day and they'd told me you quit."
"you could've asked for a phone number if you were that concerned."
"i was!" wufan retorts, stunned. "i did. the number was out of service and there was nothing at your apartment."
"but.. i told kai, if you came around. i told him to give you my number if you asked."
"who the hell is kai?"
"who did you ask?"
"the owner, obviously."
"the owner that had you thrown out of the club and only let you back in on the one rule you were never to see me again?"
wufan stares at him dumbfounded.
"why didn't you just ask one of the dancers?"
"i didn't... i don't know, i just thought the owner was telling me the truth when he gave me the information. it wasn't like he gave it to me willingly."
yixing snorts, "how the hell are you a crime lord?"
wufan is starting to wonder himself. he watches yixing turn back to the photograph, a wry grin on his lips and wufan can't stop the wide smile that stretches his face at the complete ridiculousness of the situation and the months spent thinking yixing wanted nothing to do with him. the smile quickly turns to a frown though when he thinks of how quickly he'd given up and the fact that the may have lost yixing anyway due to this stupid misunderstanding. whoever this luhan was, it was obvious they were close.
"he's not my boyfriend." yixing says, eyes still on the photograph.
"oh, you don't have to- i mean, it's not any of my-"
"you were wondering." yixing looks down at his shoes and tips his head just slightly in wufan's direction, eyes peering up at him mischievously through soft bangs.
wufan grins, "yeah. i was."
yixing turns again to the photograph and wufan takes a step closer and he's suddenly reminded of the heady feeling he gets being near him, his pulse racing just a little faster.
"so, why did you leave?"
"i was only working there to put myself through school."
"you quit school too?"
yixing rolls his eyes, "i'd finished school two months before i left, wufan."
"then why did you-" wufan stops himself, his heart sinking into his stomach.
when yixing doesn't respond and still refuses to face him, wufan stands in front of the photograph and sees yixing's eyes glassy and face vulnerable. wufan's hand finds his, lacing their fingers together and tugging slightly and the realization that this is the first time wufan has ever touched him without the threat of getting punched or rejected isn't lost on either of them.
"why didn't you just tell me?"
"i was scared." yixing's eyes seem to dart everywhere, unable to stay on him, and he pulls his hand back from wufan's. "i didn't know if my feelings were real, i didn't know if you were just using me or when you would get bored of me. that night... i knew. i knew i was falling for you and all i kept getting from you was money. more money for me to do more things. i knew i couldn't stay after that, and if you wanted more you'd probably come looking for me."
"i want more." wufan says with complete clarity.
yixing's eyes finally meet his and he hopes it's enough. he regrets not saying anything sooner, offering money instead of just outright asking for fear of rejection.
"do you have a pen?"
"one second." wufan half jogs to the counter at the entrance that holds pamphlets and pens, he grabs the first one he sees and sighs contently at the sound of yixing's laugh when he reaches him again. yixing takes the pen and grabs his hand, leaning in close enough that wufan can breathe in the vanilla scent of his shampoo and aftershave. he flattens his palm and scrawls a number down before looking up at him, "that's my real number." wufan grins and wraps his large fingers around his wrist before he can pull away, just taking a moment to linger in the closeness. wufan drinks in the sight of his bottom lip and the dent of his dimple on his cheek and the way his lashes flutter against the top of his fringe.
"thanks." wufan whispers and finally lets go, his grin growing wider at the dazed expression staring back at him.
***
wufan sits in the coffee shop at 8 in the morning, foot tapping impatiently against the chair opposite him. yixing was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago. wufan checks his watch again and hears the door chime as another person enters, he grins when he sees the light blue hoodie and loose sweats, thick rimmed glasses perched on top of his nose looking around like a lost puppy. wufan sees the guitar slung across his shoulder and back and makes a mental note to request a song as soon as possible. yixing's eyes find his and he smiles brightly, and approaches as wufan opens his mouth, "i got you a caramel macch-"
and yixing is kissing him, thin lips pressed chaste against his, a hand coming up to rest on his neck, thumb drawing slow circles behind his ear before he pulls away slightly, "i hope kissing on the first date is alright with you."
wufan smiles so big he's afraid more gum than teeth is showing and usually he hates that but yixing's grin only seems to widen so he doesn't really mind this once.
"i'm usually a second date kind of person but i'll make an exception since you seem so desperate." wufan whispers, eyes watching his lips as he laughs. wufan presses one more kiss against his smiling mouth before he feels a hand pushing him back and yixing is taking a seat across from him at the table.