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It is impossible to live in a dormitory with four other boys, and not see some dicks. It's not that Wang Yibo wants to compare his junk to anyone else's, but he's sharing a room, and people have to change sometimes, and the lock on the bathroom door doesn't always work, and there was that time Yixuan walked into the kitchen at 2:00 AM to get some water in nothing but a t-shirt; no underwear. It's a thing in close living quarters. No big deal.
Except no one in the house has ever seen Wang Yibo's dick, because Wang Yibo is a freak.
He kind of wishes he didn't know this. But it would be way worse if he hadn't found out until he let someone he actually liked see the monster between his legs, so he counts having seen his bandmates' average cocks as an advantage.
They're all older than him, so he lets them think this is why he's shy. He listens raptly, age fifteen, to the sixteen and seventeen year olds talking about jerking off and kissing and getting hand jobs. But his awe turns to horror when they take his silence as embarrassment, and start telling him his would grow in the next couple of years, theirs certainly did. His is already as big around as his wrist and long enough to match. And yeah, he has pretty small wrists, but none of the other guys are walking around with that in their pants.
By age sixteen, Wang Yibo has figured out that he has a more than academic interest in other guy's dicks. And their pecs, and abs, and thighs, and general… guy-ness. One night when Wang Yibo is especially tired and off guard, Seungyoun catches him looking more directly than he should be. He's afraid Seungyoun's gonna be mad, but instead he tackles Yibo to their bed and kisses him.
They wrestle and make out, and Yibo tries not to grind up against him, because he can't face being teased about his junk while he's having his first ever kiss. Seungyoun asks if Yibo's ever pretended to be asleep and watched him jerking off. The way he says it, Yibo suspects Seungyoun's checking he's not the only one.
"You sneak!" Yibo says, covering Seungyoun's eyes with his palm like that's going to retroactively prevent him from spying.
"Hey! I asked if you do it. I never said I did!" Seungyoun tries to wrestle Yibo's hand off his face, but Yibo's on top so he has more leverage. He's also got his dick pressed against Seungyoun's belly and Seungyoun's dick rubbing on his thigh. Seungyoun hasn't seemed to notice anything unusual. Yibo forgets about covering Seungyoun's eyes and they go back to kissing and rubbing and rolling around until they both come in their boxers.
One thing leads to another, and a few weeks later they've rubbed off against each other enough times that Yibo's started to forget he was worried about how big he is. He's been focused instead on how much he wants to get Seungyoun's dick in his mouth.
It turns out he really likes giving head, and the first time, when Seungyoun makes noises about returning the favor, he's too late, because Yibo got off humping the mattress with Seungyoun's dick in his mouth. This happens again the second time.
The third time Seungyoun threatens to spank Yibo if he comes before Seungyoun can touch him, and Yibo comes before he even gets his mouth on Seungyoun's cock. Seungyoun follows through on his threat, and Yibo gets hard again with no trouble at all.
"This time I'm going first," Seungyoun tells Yibo, rolling him over onto his back and shoving a hand down his boxer briefs. When his hand curls around Yibo's dick, his eyes go huge. So huge it would be funny if Yibo wasn't terrified of whatever Seungyoun's about to say.
"Fuck, Yibo." The words come out on an exhale. Seungyoun's eyes are still huge, but he hasn't yanked his hand away in horror, so Yibo holds his own breath and waits.
"I can't even—" Seungyoun gives Yibo's dick a firm squeeze. Firm enough that Yibo squeaks in surprised protest. "Sorry. Sorry." Seungyoun's grip loosens and he gives Yibo's junk a little pat. "I can't even fit my fingers around it."
"Don't be stupid," Yibo complains. He can fit his fingers around himself well enough and Seungyoun's got a whole year on him.
Propping himself on his elbow, Seungyoun holds up the hand he hasn't got in Yibo's underwear. When he gives Yibo a look and waggles his fingers, Yibo holds his own hand up against it. Huh. Okay. Apparently his hands are freakish too. "Ugh," Yibo moans, flopping his head back on the bed and putting his giant hand over his face.
"Don't do that, didi. It's not a bad thing. Just. I'm maybe gonna start with a hand job if that's okay. I'm not exactly a porn star."
Yibo is glad that Seungyoun's still gripping him, moving his hand gently, or this conversation would be making him go soft. "If you can't even fit your—" Yibo starts sulkily, but Seungyoun cuts him off with a pffft and a pinch to Yibo's foreskin.
"Ow!" Yibo puts on his best pout, but the sensation is more painful like Seungyoun spanking him than like what he would have imagined getting his foreskin pinched might feel like. He doesn't get time to dwell on that, though, because Seungyoun tugs Yibo's boxer briefs down around his thighs, and starts wanking him off in earnest.
In the next few years, they don't stop making out and getting each other off, but Seungyoun never brings up the idea of blowing Yibo again. Yibo doesn't bring it up either.
__
Yibo and Xiao Zhan are in their room, going over their scripts for the next day. Yibo is quietly reading—well, counting Xiao Zhan's lines, because it's still hilarious to him how many more he has—when Xiao Zhan says, "In the book we'd be kissing here."
This is not the first time Xiao Zhan has talked about reading the novel—and not the edited version Yibo read himself—but it is the first time he's talked to Yibo about it when they're alone. Usually Yibo's around when Xiao Zhan and Xuan Lu reminisce about a scene, or Xiao Zhan's teasing Yibo about having to wear heels on his boots. If he has mentioned Lan Zhan and Wei Ying's more intimate relationship, he's always said they. Never we before.
"Mnhmm?" Yibo manages.
Like Yibo's heart isn't racing as his brain serves him image after image of what it would be like if Yibo were kissing Xiao Zhan right now—or tomorrow in front of the camera and crew, or every day forever—Xiao Zhan says mildly, "Do you remember your first kiss?"
"Oh my god." Yibo can feel his whole face on fire.
Xiao Zhan still seems oblivious to the turmoil he's causing. "My first kiss was a total surprise," he continues, still glancing through his script. "But at least I wasn't blindfolded."
"Blindfolded?" The word comes out as little more than a squeak.
Xiao Zhan finally looks at him. "Are you okay?"
Yibo throws his script at him in response.
Xiao Zhan is still laughing when his phone buzzes. "Yu Bin has food," he says, glancing at the screen.
It's not every day Yibo can say that noodles saved him.
He figures that will be the end of it, and Xiao Zhan is done tempting Yibo to leap into his arms shouting, "Kiss me, kiss me!" But as soon as they get to Yu Bin's room, Xuan Lu hands Xiao Zhan a bowl, hooks a hand into his elbow, and tugs him towards the far wall, saying, "So you're doing the kissing scene tomorrow," and they're off again.
While Yibo grabs his own bowl, he overhears Xuan Lu and Xiao Zhan talking about Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian being oblivious idiots. Not going to join them, because Yibo does occasionally have a sense of self preservation, Yibo instead wanders over to where Yu Bin and Zheng Fanxing are arguing about which one of them is better at whatever color matching game they've been playing on their phones lately. Even trying his best to pay attention to the conversation in front of him, he can't help overhearing the word blindfold coming from where Xuan Lu and Xiao Zhan are sitting with their heads together, shoveling noodles into their mouths.
Enough. He's got to get to the bottom of this. Otherwise he's going to be up all night thinking about Xiao Zhan and blindfolds and kisses. Not bothering to take his leave of Yu Bin and Zheng Fanxing, who seem to be trying to settle their argument with a slap fight now, he makes his way over sprawled bodies, beer and tea bottles, and scattered pillows from the beds, and sits down on the floor next to Xiao Zhan's knees. Without missing a beat, he knocks Xiao Zhan's chopsticks off their trajectory towards his bowl so that Xiao Zhan knows everything is business as usual between them.
Xiao Zhan retaliates by stealing a piece of bok choy from Yibo's dinner.
"Wow," Yibo says, eyes wide with mock affront. Xiao Zhan ignores him, which makes Xuan Lu laugh.
"You ready for tomorrow?" she asks Yibo.
"I don't actually have to put a blindfold on," Yibo points out.
"Or pin your soulmate to a tree and suck his face off."
Yibo doesn't believe in soulmates, but he can't help thinking if they were real, Xiao Zhan would be a nice one to have.
"I wish they could have left the flower part in," Xiao Zhan says, and he and Xuan Lu are back and forth with references Yibo still can't really follow. At least over here he feels like part of the conversation. And soon enough they move on to other books they've read, dancers Xuan Lu has worked with and ones she'd like to, places they've visited—all things that Yibo has plenty to say about.
Eventually, people start trailing off to their own rooms, and Xiao Zhan pulls Yibo to his feet. "Time to put the little ones to bed," he says in Xuan Lu's direction, giving her a wink.
"Who's little?" Yibo stands on his toes which puts him almost eye to eye with Xiao Zhan. "Time to get the old man into bed."
That gets him a shove so he loses his balance and rocks back onto his heels, meaning Xiao Zhan can look down at him again. Yibo shoves him back. Xuan Lu laughs, and Yu Bin calls, "No slap fights!" Yibo turns to see he's holding Zheng Fanxing at arm's length while Zheng Fanxing tries to tickle him.
Yibo slaps Xiao Zhan's arm just because he never likes to do as he's told unless it's a director doing the telling. Fanxing—who came to Yibo last week to ask how a person could know if their crush was flirting back with them—gives Yibo a grin. Yibo had been absolutely no help on that subject, but he thinks Fanxing might be figuring it out on his own.
They walk Xuan Lu to her room and head back to theirs to get ready for bed. Yibo is tired, but he can't fall asleep.
The room is dark except for a dim glow from the muted television, which is mostly illuminating Yibo's bed. He's been listening to Xiao Zhan breathe for the last half hour, trying to decide if he's asleep and it's safe to get his hands on himself, do something about the images their conversation put in his mind. Xiao Zhan's words, when they come, nearly give him a heart attack.
"Who was the first person you kissed?"
"Gah!" Yibo takes a couple of deep breaths. "Too scary. I thought you were sleeping."
"I thought you were going to toss and turn yourself to death, so I'd better distract you."
"I wasn't," Yibo retorts, even though he was.
"Who," Xiao Zhan asks again.
They're friends, and Yibo wants them to be much more, but Xiao Zhan's never said anything directly about being gay. Or liking guys. Knowing he'd happily kiss Yibo if the script called for it doesn't mean he's into kissing dudes off screen. Or into the idea of Yibo doing it. "I—" Another deep breath. "Not a lot of time for kissing," he temporizes.
"I refuse to believe that someone who has that face has never kissed anyone." He's teasing, Yibo knows he's teasing, but he sounds— He sounds more earnest than he usually does when exclaiming about Yibo's superior beauty.
"Who was your first kiss, then?" Never let it be said Yibo can't change the subject. "Your face must have kissed hundreds of people."
"Not hundreds." Yibo can see enough of Xiao Zhan's side of the room to tell he's got his arms around one of his spare pillows. "My first kiss was a girl at school. We were studying for an exam in physics, and we stopped to get some tea and she kissed me."
"Mn." Yibo thinks he understands how Lan Wangji feels when Wei Ying keeps talking about MianMian. He should ask if Xiao Zhan liked the girl from school, or if she became his girlfriend or something, but before he can find words, Xiao Zhan continues.
"The first boy I kissed was in university, though."
Yibo plays that back in his head. Xiao Zhan has kissed boys? And is willing to talk about it? "You've kissed—" Yibo's throat clicks. It's so dry. "A boy? Did you like it?" He hopes the TV isn't bright enough Xiao Zhan can see his face. Yibo can't control what it's doing with this information.
"I've kissed a few boys," Xiao Zhan answers. "And I liked it a lot."
"Me too," Yibo blurts before he can think better of it. "I mean. Liked it. A boy. I've—" He covers his face with a pillow. Xiao Zhan must think he's a baby. He's probably got tons of experience. Look at him. Yibo peeks out from under the pillow, but Xiao Zhan's side of the room is too dark for him to see anything but shapes. There's too many shadows to see Xiao Zhan's face. Yibo puts his face back under, wraps his arms around the pillow and his head, and groans in frustration.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Xiao Zhan sounds kind, like an adult talking to a frightened child. Great. He thinks Wang Yibo is a frightened child. Yibo pulls the pillow off his face and stuffs it under his head again.
"You'll think I'm a cliche if I tell you my first kiss," he mutters in the direction of Xiao Zhan's bed.
"I won't."
"I probably am a cliche."
"Just say it."
Ugh. "Li Seungyoun." Before Xiao Zhan can comment on that, Yibo adds, "It wasn't like if Lan Wangji kissed Wei Ying, though. We just, you know, for something to do."
Xiao Zhan is silent for a moment, then says, "Friends with Benefits kind of thing?"
Yibo scans Xiao Zhan's words for more than casual interest in the answer, but he can't tell. "Yeah." He's not sure if Friends with Benefits implies fucking or not, but he's not about to tell Xiao Zhan all he's ever done is kiss and exchange blow jobs for hand jobs.
"I've never felt the way Lan Zhan feels about Wei Ying either. I'm not sure that's a thing people can feel outside of books."
Yibo feels how the words twist in his chest and doesn't tell Xiao Zhan that he's pretty sure people can, because he feels that way about Xiao Zhan. Instead, he plucks one of the spare pillows off the floor and throws it at Xiao Zhan's bed. "Go to sleep," he says, and rolls over.
__
Now that Yibo knows Xiao Zhan likes kissing boys, he can't stop thinking about it. When Xiao Zhan sings on set, Yibo thinks about him singing at university, and wonders if any of the boys Xiao Zhan used to sing with are the ones who've kissed him. He tries not to hate those boys, but he does. Just in case they know what Xiao Zhan's lips feel like touching theirs. When Xiao Zhan drinks, Yibo finds himself getting jealous of a bottle of tea. When the makeup artists touch Xiao Zhan's face, Yibo wishes he could be a makeup artist instead of an actor. When he finds himself longing to be a pair of chopsticks, he decides it's time to stop. No more having a crush on his costar. Just because Xiao Zhan likes kissing boys doesn't mean he wants to kiss Wang Yibo, and thinking about it is only making everything worse.
Of course that's when Xuan Lu comes over to where Yibo's studiously not watching Xiao Zhan finish his lunch, and tugs Yibo's sleeve. Giving him her sweetest Yanli smile, she whispers, "Kissing scene up next."
"No," Yibo says, because he can't hit her with his sword. She gives him a wink and a little wave as she walks away. He tries not to think about kissing Xiao Zhan.
The afternoon of filming goes well. Yibo's pact with himself to no longer have a crush on his costar? Not so much.
They eat on set that night, so get ready for bed as soon as they're back in the hotel. Xiao Zhan uses the bathroom first. When Yibo comes out, Xiao Zhan is sitting on the edge of Yibo's bed.
"Sorry," Xiao Zhan says when he sees whatever look is on Yibo's face. Yibo isn't sure if it's confused or horny. Maybe both somehow. "The a/c is stronger over here." He gets up and starts moving back to his own side of the room. Heart in his throat, Yibo reaches out and stops him.
"No. Stay. I like sharing." He ignores the fact that body heat will negate whatever benefit the air conditioner gives Xiao Zhan.
To his surprise, Xiao Zhan does as Yibo says. He stands by the side of the bed while Yibo climbs under the sheet, but then lies down when Yibo moves over. He lies on top of the sheet, but it's still nice. Yibo wants to say something, but he can't think what.
Turning his head to look at Yibo, Xiao Zhan asks, "Should I turn off the light?" He's reaching for it already, but Yibo nods. The room plunges into darkness. "Oh, I forgot. Do you want the TV?" Xiao Zhan sounds concerned, not teasing. It's too much earnestness for Yibo to handle when he can feel Xiao Zhan's heat mere inches away.
"Zhan-ge will keep me safe, won't he?"
Xiao Zhan laughs—a low huff of breath. "I will feed Wang Yibo to the monsters so I have time to get away."
Yibo smacks out where Xiao Zhan's hip should be, but apparently he's predictable, because Xiao Zhan catches his hand, blocking Yibo's smack. It's such a comfortingly normal exchange that Yibo takes a moment to realize Xiao Zhan hasn't let go of his hand. That he's slid his own hand around so they're palm to palm, his thumb hooked around Yibo's thumb, their fingertips brushing together. The realization—the sensation—sends a wave of blood to Yibo's groin. He freezes, not even breathing. When Xiao Zhan laces their fingers together and curls his around to brush Yibo's knuckles, the wave of blood becomes a tsunami.
The sound of ragged breathing is loud over the hum of the a/c. Yibo's mortified until he realizes that he's still dizzy with lack of oxygen. He's not the one breathing like that. It's Xiao Zhan. Trying not to gasp, Yibo takes a breath. And another. Only when Xiao Zhan starts to pull his hand out of Yibo's does Yibo realize that he's been lying there like a dead fish. He gives Xiao Zhan's hand a little squeeze.
Xiao Zhan squeezes back, and traces the length of Yibo's thumb, base to nail and back to the base. "Is this okay?" he whispers.
Yibo can only nod, which Xiao Zhan probably can't see in the dark, but apparently he can feel it, or hear it, because he hums in a satisfied sort of way and strokes Yibo's thumb again. And again, sending wave after wave of heat along Yibo's limbs to pool in his belly. This goes on for several minutes—hours? Seconds?—before Xiao Zhan breaks the silence again.
"I kept thinking about how glad I was that we—that our first kiss wasn't on set with all those people around." The finger stroking has stopped, and Xiao Zhan is as frozen as Yibo was earlier. Yibo can feel him practically vibrating.
The words bump into each other in Yibo's head until Yibo has no idea what they mean. "First?" he asks, voice strangled.
"I want to kiss you. So much. But not in front of everyone. I want it to be us. Not Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan." Xian Zhan hauls in a deep breath. "If you want to kiss me."
Yibo absolutely wants to kiss him. But he doesn't want to talk about it, so he gives Xiao Zhan's hand a tug, turns his face towards Xiao Zhan's, and hopes he'll get the message.
Please, please, please, please Yibo thinks, in the eternity before he feels Xiao Zhan roll towards him. Xiao Zhan's free hand lands on Yibo's ribs, hot even through the sheet and his t-shirt. Softly, it moves up Yibo's chest. "Please," Yibo says, aloud this time.
Xiao Zhan's thumb strokes up over Yibo's adam's apple, tilts his chin up. Yibo can feel it in his chest, and his belly and the throbbing of his cock. Please let Xiao Zhan kiss him before he reaches for Yibo's cock. Let him have this. Please.
With one hand cupping Yibo's face and the other still clutching his hand, Xiao Zhan finds Yibo's mouth in the dark.
It's nothing and everything that Yibo had imagined it would be. It's slower, softer, deeper than any kiss he's ever had before. Like Xiao Zhan's exploring him and guiding him at once. But it's just as hot as in Yibo's fantasies. He's thought of it so often, watching Xiao Zhan talk and laugh and eat, that it feels familiar in a way he never could have expected. He did think he'd be able to move, though.
With Xiao Zhan on top of the sheet—and now on top of Yibo—and Yibo under it, and the sheet tucked under the edge of the mattress, Yibo can't move. He's into it, more than he expects, but he also wants to touch Xiao Zhan.
He's barely wiggled in an attempt to untuck himself when Xiao Zhan stops kissing to ask if he's okay. It's embarrassing how much attention Xiao Zhan pays to him. As many eyes as are always on him, Yibo's not used to his actual self being seen.
"Trapped," Yibo murmurs, shrugging his shoulder under the sheet.
Xiao Zhan lifts and tugs and folds before Yibo can make another move to free himself. He's released Yibo's arms and untucked the sheet from the side of the bed, but he leaves Yibo's legs under it and himself on top. "Better?" he asks.
It would be better if Yibo had a normal size dick and they were both naked and under the covers, but Yibo can now wrap his arms around Xiao Zhan's shoulders, tug him close enough to kiss again, so it's pretty great.
"Yeah," Yibo says, lifting his head for another kiss.
__
It's weird being able to let Xiao Zhan catch Yibo's reactions and not worry that he'll figure out Yibo has a massive crush on him. When Xiao Zhan rolls his eyes and moans, "Whyyy," the third time in less than a minute that Yibo lifts the hem of his robe with his sword, Yibo doesn't do it a fourth time to avoid the question, but says quietly, "Because I have a crush on you." He's glad he's not in this next scene, because there's no way he'd be able to hide his smile.
"I have a crush on you too, idiot," Xiao Zhan whispers. More loudly, he says "Go find someone to bring me a drink." He says it like he's an emperor used to people waiting on him. Which could not be farther from the truth, and it makes Yibo grin even more broadly.
"Yes, gege. Anything for you, gege. Didi will get the most handsome gege some tea." He really would do anything for Xiao Zhan, but he says it in his normal teasing voice because the crew doesn't need to know that, and neither does Xiao Zhan. They've talked about having mutual crushes, but Yibo hasn't wanted to ask yet if it could be more than that for his costar. He's not sure he could face it if the answer were no. Especially not when they have more than a month left of filming.
Xiao Zhan doesn't seem to have that problem. When they get back to their room, Xiao Zhan pushes his hands up under Yibo's shirt. "I can't believe I get to do this," he says, smiling down into Yibo's face. With his hands wrapped around Yibo's waist, he uses his forearms to lift the front of Yibo's shirt, and peeks under the hem. "Do you have any idea—"
To Yibo's alarm, he looks like he's gonna get up close and personal with his abs, which are far too close to his filling cock. Yibo tries his best not to flinch away, but Xiao Zhan must see something, because he stands up again to look Yibo in the face.
"Hey, is this not okay? I was assuming—gah! I'm so sorry." He's backing away and even in the dim light of the lamp across the room, Yibo can see his face is dark with shame.
It's been years since Seungyoun confirmed Yibo's fears about having a freakish dick, and Yibo's got to get over his fear of ever showing it to anyone else, and Xiao Zhan is so sweet that sometimes Yibo thinks he might die from it, so surely he won't make fun—
By the time Yibo can get his thoughts together, Xiao Zhan has retreated to the window where he's fiddling with the curtain. "That's not—" Yibo closes the gap between them, reaching out to touch Xiao Zhan's wrist. It feels too much like Lan Zhan, so he rests his hand on the small of Xiao Zhan's back. "Zhan-ge. It's so okay. I've just—" Yibo can feel his own face heating up like he's about to admit the worst thing anyone has ever done. "I got shy. No one's ever—" Yibo hopes the hand gesture he makes is sufficient to convey sucked my dick.
Xiao Zhan turns then, his eyes huge and mouth slightly open. "Never?"
He's not laughing, and there's something in his eyes that makes Yibo more confident that he can do this.
"I mean, I've had handjobs. It's too—" He can't look Xiao Zhan in the eye. "You don't have to blow me. I don't expect—"
"Neither of us has to do anything we don't both want to do, Yibo. Ever." Xiao Zhan lifts Yibo's chin with two fingers and rubs his thumb along Yibo's cheekbone. "If all you want to do is kiss—if all you want to do is hold hands sometimes, and pester me with a prop sword, that's fine. I like you so much, but I can keep it in my pants."
Yibo wants to punch him, and kiss him, and yell at him for being so nice, and strip off all his clothes and ravish him… He settles for giving him a shove. "I'm not— I like sex. I just." He's gonna have to say it, isn't he. "My dick is too big. I don't want you to be nice and try to, I don't know. Do stuff to be nice."
Xiao Zhan does laugh then, but not meanly. Still. "What," Yibo says, trying not to sound petulant.
That makes Xiao Zhan cover his face with both hands. He peeks out at Yibo between his fingers. "I'm laughing at me, not you," he mumbles against his palms.
"You are not." Yibo shoves him again, not hard, even though his feelings are a little hurt, but Xiao Zhan goes with it and flops back onto the bed.
"I really, really am." Xiao Zhan uncovers his face and reaches for Yibo's arm. Yibo lets himself be pulled down next to Xiao Zhan, but stays seated instead of sprawling beside him. Xiao Zhan rolls to his side and props his head on his fist so he can look Yibo in the eye. Yibo's gaze drops to his own hands, but he doesn't turn away. Apparently deciding that's good enough, Xiao Zhan keeps talking.
"I promise you—" Xiao Zhan puts his free hand on Yibo's knee. "Unless your dick is so big that you lose consciousness when it gets hard, it's not too big."
That sounds horrifying. It's not a problem Yibo's ever had, though. It probably can't happen. "I don't think that's real." He glances at Xiao Zhan's face. It's all squished up where it's resting on his fist, but there's no mistaking his happy smile.
"Well, then. It's not too big."
Yibo looks again. Xiao Zhan's smile is even bigger. "You're not taking this seriously."
Xiao Zhan slides his hand an inch or two up Yibo's thigh. "I am taking this so seriously. I'm seriously trying not to pop wood right now. I love big. I've, um—" He takes Yibo's hand in his, strokes Yibo's fingers. "Is it too soon to say I'm obsessed with your hands?"
Remembering all the nights of lying in his bed sure his outlandish proportions would mean he was alone forever, Yibo wants to pull away. But he doesn't want Xiao Zhan to think he's done something wrong again, so he lets himself enjoy the feeling of warmth, both from Xiao Zhan's body heat and from his praise. "Not too soon," he finally says, voice small.
Xiao Zhan scooches closer. Slowly, with his eyes on Yibo's face the whole time, he draws Yibo's hand towards his mouth. "May I?" he asks, though Yibo hasn't flinched this time. He hasn't even breathed, for fear Xiao Zhan might read it as a protest. Somehow, Yibo manages to nod, movements jerky.
He expects Xiao Zhan to suck a finger. Maybe two. But he rolls onto his belly, cradling Yibo's hand in both of his own, and then sucks all four of Yibo's fingers into his mouth. His own mouth slack with surprise, Yibo just watches him.
But Xiao Zhan doesn't stop. Grip firm but not tight on Yibo's wrist, Xiao Zhan pushes until the webbing of Yibo's thumb meets the corner of Xiao Zhan's mouth. Tilting his head, Xiao Zhan rubs his cheek against Yibo's thumb like a cat. And fuck. Fuck. Yibo can feel tongue rolling against his palm, his fingers, can feel Xiao Zhan's soft palate as he swallows around Yibo's knuckles. Xiao Zhan's eyes drift closed, and a soft humming comes from his throat.
With a garbled cry, Yibo tugs his hand out of Xiao Zhan's mouth and his grasp. Before Xiao Zhan can worry again, Yibo babbles, "Come, gonna, fuck. I—" He'd like to not come in his pants.
Xiao Zhan doesn't look worried. He looks hungry. "Please let me suck your dick," he begs. Yibo's still not convinced that's possible, but he's lost all ability to stop Xiao Zhan trying.
Between them they get Yibo's pants, underwear, and one sock off. Before Yibo can deal with his other sock or his shirt, Xiao Zhan's on him, pressing him down into the mattress, devouring his mouth. Yibo thinks for a minute Xiao Zhan's just trying to reassure him, or make him feel better by not looking at his dick right away, but Xiao Zhan's making those soft hungry noises again, pushing one hand up under Yibo's shirt, running the other down over Yibo's hip and thigh. Maybe he's genuinely really turned on. Before Xiao Zhan can think Yibo isn't, Yibo tells his brain to shut up and kisses him back.
There's something incredibly dirty about being kissed by someone fully clothed when Yibo is half naked. Embarrassing, but not in a bad way. Yibo didn't even know that was a thing. Still, though, he wants to see Xiao Zhan's body. Not just the glimpses he's gotten in the last several weeks as they've worked and shared a room, but all of him. Naked. Wanting this too.
"Mmmn," Yibo says, still sucking Xiao Zhan's tongue, still rocking his hips against the glorious pressure of Xiao Zhan's belly against his dick. But he tugs at the hem of Xiao Zhan's shirt, hoping Xiao Zhan will get the picture.
"Hmmf?" Xiao Zhan answers, no more inclined to stop kissing, stop rocking together than Yibo is.
Yibo tugs harder at the shirt.
"Mmnmm." Apparently that's agreement, because Xiao Zhan pushes up enough to allow Yibo to pull the shirt up and over his head. Which leaves it stretched between Xiao Zhan's arms, pulled taut by muscles which look even more defined than usual in the angle of the lamp's glow. It's also blocking Yibo from sitting up and kissing Xiao Zhan again. Yibo pulls on the fabric, and Xiao Zhan overbalances trying to untangle himself, landing next to Yibo on the bed.
Which gives Yibo a good angle to get Xiao Zhan out of his shorts. Soon, Xiao Zhan is completely naked and Yibo is still in his shirt and one sock. Which makes Yibo embarrassed in a whole other way.
Xiao Zhan kisses his cheek, his jaw, his neck. "Wanna take this off, or leave it on?" he asks.
"I said not to be nice to me," Yibo complains, not liking this embarrassment at all.
"You said not to tell white lies about your giant dick. You can't expect me to pretend I'm not into consent."
"Off," Yibo concedes. "But no being nice about my dick." He pulls his shirt off over his head and throws it on the floor while pushing his second sock off with his toes. Now they're both naked. If he looks at Xiao Zhan's body, he doesn't have to see the look on Xiao Zhan's face.
Xiao Zhan's body is worth looking at. With the light behind him, he almost looks like he's glowing. His shoulders are broad and his waist is narrow, and the fur on his belly looks so soft. Yibo's wanted to touch it so many times. He thought he would last night, but he was afraid if he went there, Xiao Zhan would go there too, and he wasn't ready. Now he can, though.
Forgetting Xiao Zhan is ticklish, Yibo tentatively strokes the hairs just below Xiao Zhan's belly button. Xiao Zhan squeaks, jerking back, and clamps his hand over Yibo's, pressing it flat against the soft dark hair. Right above Xiao Zhan's cock. Which is flushed and heavy with blood, and Yibo wants his mouth on it. Xiao Zhan says something about tickling not being fair, but Yibo interrupts him.
"Want to suck you. Please. Let me." He should probably be looking at Xiao Zhan's face. Should let him see how much he means it. But he cannot drag his eyes from the thickening length between Xiao Zhan's thighs.
"I thought I was—"
"After." Unable to wait anymore, Yibo pushes Xiao Zhan onto his back and bends down to take him between his lips.
"Oh god," Xiao Zhan moans when Yibo sucks him hard and deep without buildup. Yibo's kneeling by Xiao Zhan's ribs, curled over his own knees to reach his goal. It's not the most comfortable position in which to suck dick, but it's not that different from doing child's pose in yoga, and he can do that for ages.
Or he could, if Xiao Zhan weren't pulling at his legs. "What?" Yibo pulls off to ask.
"Just come here." Xiao Zhan pulls again, twists and tugs, and they end up with Yibo straddling Xiao Zhan's shoulders, his face over Xiao Zhan's crotch.
"Um," Yibo says.
"You just go back to what you were doing. Let me take care of this."
Somehow it's less alarming having Xiao Zhan so close to his junk when Yibo's distracted by a dick he wants to suck so much. This probably qualifies as Xiao Zhan being too nice, but he can't bring himself to care. It's been so long since he sucked dick, and he loves it just as much as he always did. He does as he's told. He can feel the hands on his hips, his ass, his thighs, the breath on his balls. "You're perfect," Xiao Zhan murmurs.
If Yibo thinks Xiao Zhan's talking about all the parts he's touching and not Yibo's freakish dick which is probably hanging in—nope. Xiao Zhan. Think about what you were doing to Xiao Zhan.
Concentrating on Xiao Zhan's smell and taste, Yibo lets himself explore. There's a soft smooth patch at the top of Xiao Zhan's thigh with no hair on it at all, and when Yibo lays the flat of his tongue against it, he can feel Xiao Zhan's pulse. The stripe of hair leading down to Xiao Zhan's cock has the faintest hint of the spicy body wash in the bathroom. His shaft tastes saltier than his cock head, which is tart with the slick of precome already beading the tip. The parts of Yibo's brain that aren't occupied with the man under him are chanting, he won't be mean, he won't laugh, it will be okay.
He's got half of Xiao Zhan's cock in his mouth when Xiao Zhan wraps a hand around Yibo's dick. It's slick like maybe he licked it first. It feels amazing. "Perfect," Xiao Zhan says again. It kills Yibo not to argue, but he keeps his focus on the dick in his mouth.
It gets much much harder to focus when he feels a tongue tracing around the head of his cock. He moans, sucks harder, but then there are lips and suction and he can't do this. Not without biting something Xiao Zhan won't appreciate being bitten. He pulls off and rests his forehead on the firm muscle of Xiao Zhan's thigh. "Sorry," he whispers.
"One at a time, how about," Xiao Zhan says, and the next thing he knows, Yibo is on his back, staring up at the fire sprinkler, head almost off the foot of the bed. Xiao Zhan looks delighted with himself. He's got an arm over Yibo's abs, and an arm over his thighs, and both hands wrapped around Yibo's dick. "Me first," he says.
Yibo could shut his eyes. He could keep them focused on the fire sprinkler. He could stretch his neck and let his head tilt over the end of the bed so he had a view of the television. He doesn't have to watch Xiao Zhan—this man he likes so much he could choke on it—try and fail to suck his dick.
Except Yibo can't look at any of those other things. Xiao Zhan's confident smile has captured him and is holding him hostage so he has to watch.
Seeing his cock in Xiao Zhan's hands is—well. Yibo doesn't know what it is. He'd never looked when Seungyoun jerked him off, because all he could think about was that he was too big for his friend to wrap his hand around. He's too big for Xiao Zhan, too, but Xiao Zhan seems to be delighted rather than intimidated. Eyes on Yibo's face, he places another wet kiss on the head of Yibo's cock. His tongue teases at the slit, and his lips press just enough to make Yibo's breath hitch.
Then he starts licking Yibo everywhere. The gaps between his fingertips and thumbs, the spaces between his fingers, getting everything wet and then wetter, sliding his hands from Yibo's base to where his foreskin stretches under the head, then back down again. It's—Yibo didn't know about lube when he and Seungyoun used to do this together. Now he does, but he only bothers using it sometimes. Even when he makes things wet, it's never felt like this. Like everything from his ribs to his knees is melting and everything else is so tense he might explode.
"Oh fuck," he moans, and then makes a strangled sound when Xiao Zhan opens his mouth around Yibo's cock head again and starts squeezing in time with the suction.
That's all he can take. His eyes close, his back arches, and he comes on a cry that probably wakes the neighbors. Xiao Zhan keeps sucking as he comes, kisses the underside of Yibo's dick two, three, four times while he shudders with aftershocks, then suckles at the tip again until Yibo squeaks and bats him away.
"I'm dead," Yibo says. "Stop."
Xiao Zhan moves to kissing Yibo's hips and belly instead. Which is also too much, but not enough too much to stop him, because Xiao Zhan is adorable, and clearly happy. Yibo is also happy. But not sure he's got control over his muscles.
"I'll do better next time," Xiao Zhan says cheerfully. Yibo tries to tell him that's impossible, but barely manages a mm. He does move his hand enough to poke Xiao Zhan's shoulder. Sort of.
"My last two boyfriends were pretty small, so I'm out of practice."
"Hmmah," Yibo replies, in an effort to convey that if that was out of practice, he will not be surviving whatever passes for in practice. The part about the boyfriends can be addressed when his brain is back online.
And then Yibo's hearing must go funny, because he's pretty sure he hears Xiao Zhan say, "I can't wait for you to fuck me."
That's also going to have to wait, because wow. Wow.
__
It has to wait longer than Yibo would like. Their shooting schedule is crazy for the next four days, the heat is unbearable, and exchanging hand jobs in a cold shower is the most intimacy they manage. Physical intimacy anyway. Lying together under the a/c vent over Yibo's bed, not touching because Xiao Zhan feels like he's going to die of sweat, they talk. About their bands, their parents, their hobbies, their jobs, Xiao Zhan's cat, Yibo's motorcycles—but eventually Yibo asks the question that's been on the tip of his tongue since Xiao Zhan gave him a blow job.
"Did you mean it?"
He asks nearly fifteen minutes after the last thing either of them said was "We should probably get some sleep," so it's not surprising when Xiao Zhan murmurs, "What?"
"That—" Yibo peeks out from under the arm he's got tossed over his face, but Xiao Zhan is still curled on his side facing away. "That you want me to fuck you."
Xiao Zhan flips around like he wasn't almost asleep after a thirteen-hour day. "Yes," he says emphatically. He pulls Yibo's arm down so he can look him in the eye in the dim light coming through the cracks in the curtains. "Yes. After work tomorrow. We have a whole twenty-four hours off."
Three days ago, Yibo couldn't have said it, but now he's told Xiao Zhan things he never imagined he'd tell anyone, so he can admit he's scared. "I don't want to hurt you."
Resting a hand on Yibo's cheek, Xiao Zhan gives Yibo's mouth a sweet, soft kiss. "You won't." He sounds so sure. "You're gonna finger me open so good that taking your dick will be easy. Promise."
Yibo's still worried, but his dick jumps to attention at that news. He groans and presses on it, silently admonishing it to calm down.
"I know." Xiao Zhan shifts his own hips suggestively. "But we've got an early call tomorrow. One more day of work."
Xiao Zhan gives him another quick kiss and settles on his side, back to Yibo, but his feet brushing Yibo's ankle. It's sweet, but doesn't overheat either of them. It's been nice sharing a bed with someone who comes up with alternatives when he doesn't want to be cuddled.
It's less than two minutes before Xiao Zhan's breathing slows and evens out in sleep. Yibo tries his best to follow suit, but he can't help fretting. He trusts Xiao Zhan, and wants to believe him that Yibo's stupidly large penis isn't going to damage anything, but what if Xiao Zhan is wrong?
Thankfully, Yibo is used to working on not nearly enough sleep, and he's also got a few hours of downtime in the middle of the day during which he can rest as long as he doesn't do anything to his wig. By the time he's done, Xiao Zhan has been sent back to the hotel in an earlier van. There's a text on Yibo's phone from him that says see you soon [fire emoji]. With how hot it's been, it wouldn't mean anything to anyone else, but it puts a fire in Yibo's belly. He'd give anything to be climbing on his bike instead of into the back of a van with half a dozen other people.
The room smells overwhelmingly of shower gel when Yibo pushes the door open. Xiao Zhan is standing in the doorway to the bathroom, wet hair tousled, water dripping down his bare chest to the towel wrapped low around his hips. Yibo has no idea how to even breathe much less speak.
"You okay?" Xiao Zhan asks as he swipes with his thumb at a droplet heading towards his left nipple. A sound leaves Yibo's throat, but doesn't answer the question.
"Yibo?"
No thought, only need, Yibo finds himself on his knees between Xiao Zhan's feet, one hand pulling at the towel, the other reaching for Xiao Zhan's dick. A breath and he's got the head of Xiao Zhan's dick on his tongue, another and it's at the back of Yibo's throat, twitching and swelling as Yibo swallows around it.
It's Xiao Zhan's turn to make incoherent noises.
Intent on the sounds, and on the taste and feel of Xiao Zhan on his tongue, Yibo has completely forgotten about fucking. All he is is a mouth, a hand, and a low throbbing in his groin. He's got a rhythm going and is relishing the sharp tug of Xiao Zhan's fingers in his hair when Xiao Zhan makes a pained sound and pulls Yibo off his dick.
Confused, Yibo blinks up at him.
"Fuck." Xiao Zhan hauls in a deep breath. "We're gonna—" another breath. "Want your fingers in me. Lube's by the bed."
Oh, right. That. A thrill shivers down Yibo's spine. Half anticipation, half fear.
With both hands, Xiao Zhan pulls Yibo to his feet and then into his arms. He bumps his bare hip against the bulge in Yibo's shorts. "It's gonna be so good, baby. Promise."
Okay, maybe three quarters anticipation.
By the time Yibo notices Xiao Zhan's stripped his own bed down to the bottom sheet, they're practically on top of it. His sense of surprise is more about his own not noticing than that Xiao Zhan had done it, but Xiao Zhan must read Yibo's face wrong, because he looks a bit sheepish.
"I wanted everything to be ready when you got here."
"I just can't believe I didn't see as soon as I walked in." Shyly—will he ever get used to being able to touch Xiao Zhan like this?—Yibo traces one finger down Xiao Zhan's treasure trail. "Guess I was distracted."
Xiao Zhan captures Yibo's finger and brings it up to his mouth for a kiss. "Good," he says, lips brushing Yibo's fingertip. "Be distracted with fewer clothes on. I want to see your cock while you're opening me up to take it."
It would be easier for Yibo to comply if Xiao Zhan weren't now sucking on his finger. Not that he can't get his dick out one handed, but he's frozen with sensation. Xiao Zhan seems to understand, though, because, eyes still boring into Yibo's, tongue still doing dastardly things to Yibo's finger, he uses his own unencumbered hands to push Yibo's shorts and briefs down and even get his t-shirt off everything but the arm he's holding hostage.
"Wow," Yibo says.
Xiao Zhan's eyes sparkle and his lips twitch in delight. With a last twirl of his tongue, he lets Yibo's finger go. Laughing, Yibo lets his shirt drop to the floor and tackles Xiao Zhan to the bed.
They roll around making out and grinding against whatever part of each other they can reach for long enough that Yibo forgets to be nervous. "You want to come?" Xiao Zhan asks, though he clearly knows that's a stupid question, because he's already wrapping both hands around Yibo's prick, squeezing, stroking, teasing his thumb under Yibo's foreskin.
"How do you give the best hand jobs?" Yibo's laughing and breathless because Xiao Zhan's taken him from humming along to almost there in less than a minute.
Xiao Zhan laughs with him, and Yibo's orgasm rushes down his spine and up his legs. They're both still laughing when Yibo collapses against Xiao Zhan's chest, smearing his come between their bellies.
This time when Xiao Zhan murmurs, "Want you in me," against Yibo's throat, Yibo just feels a thrill of want down his spine.
Giving Yibo the task of peeling the safety film off the lube bottle, Xiao Zhan settles himself in the middle of the bed, hips propped on a pillow. Yibo's grateful he'll be able to see Xiao Zhan's face, make sure he's not hurting him. He's less excited about Xiao Zhan being able to see what Yibo's thinking—damn his ability to read Yibo's expressions even when Yibo's trying to hide his feelings.
The lube has a pump top, which is something Yibo's used multiple times a day for as long as he can remember, but he just kneels between Xiao Zhan's spread thighs, frozen in place once he's got the plastic off.
"Do you want me to start?" Xiao Zhan asks gently.
If he'd been sarcastic, Yibo would have been better able to handle it. "I've got it," he says petulantly, giving the pump a few good presses to prime it. Lube shoots out sooner than he's expecting, flying past his cupped hand to land on his thigh and Xiao Zhan's calf. That gets Xiao Zhan laughing at him again.
"Yes, I see you're the expert." Xiao Zhan scoops up the splashed lube with a finger and starts to reach between his legs.
Before he even knows he's going to do anything, Yibo's hand shoots out and knocks Xiao Zhan's aside. Yibo can do this. He's being ridiculous. He's watched relevant porn, and he's good with his hands. "Mine," he says, more feeling behind the word than he'd intended.
Smiling, Xiao Zhan wipes his fingers on a towel Yibo hadn't noticed up by the headboard. "Yours," he agrees.
More carefully this time, Yibo pumps some lube onto his fingers. Xiao Zhan moves the towel down by his hip where Yibo can reach it if he needs. But he's got this.
Yibo starts just rubbing lube over Xiao Zhan's entrance, eyes flicking from what he's doing to Xiao Zhan's face. "Tease," Xiao Zhan complains, so Yibo lets the tip of one finger push against his hole. Xiao Zhan pushes back, so Yibo finds half his middle finger surrounded by slick, soft heat.
They both freeze, staring at each other, Xiao Zhan with a sweet half smile, Yibo probably looking as shocked as he feels. He'd spent so much time thinking about Xiao Zhan wanting this and how it might feel for him, that he hadn't considered he might get so turned on having his fingers in Xiao Zhan's ass. As his dick pulses in interest, he's grateful Xiao Zhan got him off before they started this. He might struggle to go as slow as he should otherwise.
"Yeah?" Yibo breathes when Xiao Zhan rocks his hips enough to pull Yibo's finger a fraction deeper.
"Yeah," Xiao Zhan agrees. "Go as slow as you need to, but I can take more."
The pressure on Yibo's finger is snug, but not as tight as he expected, so he takes Xiao Zhan at his word. He moves his middle finger in and out a few times, then pulls all the way out to tuck his forefinger under it and slide them both in together. Xiao Zhan sighs happily, and his body yields as easily for two fingers as it did for one. Two fingers is only a fraction of the length and girth of Yibo's cock, but the ease with which he can fuck them into Xiao Zhan's body gives him confidence for the first time that this might actually work.
Mostly, Yibo is watching his fingers, but he can see out of the corner of his eye that Xiao Zhan is watching Yibo's face, that same half smile curling his lips. Yibo checks in, wanting to hear Xiao Zhan's praise. "Good?"
"So good. I—" his back arches and Yibo can feel a shiver move through him. "Again. There."
In his head, Yibo plays back what he was doing when Xiao Zhan shivered, and repeats the motion, curling his fingers up as he draws them half-way out. Xiao Zhan shudders this time, as Yibo realizes the incredible softness inside Xiao Zhan's body is firmer there, has less give. "Is that your—"
"Yes." Xiao Zhan's voice is rough, sending waves of heat to Yibo's groin, prompting Yibo to push back in, curl his fingers up on that spot and rock them.
The more he rubs, the more Xiao Zhan's dick jumps. Yibo's pretty sure he could do this forever. Xiao Zhan is whimpering and gasping and humping Yibo's hand. "Tell me," Yibo begs. "Tell me what to do."
"Fuck. More."
Does that mean faster? Harder? More lube? More fingers? He doesn't want to guess wrong. But surely it's also not fair to make Xiao Zhan think under these circumstances. He stops playing with Xiao Zhan's prostate and just leaves the tips of his fingers inside Xiao Zhan's entrance. That gets a whimper of protest.
"Tell me," Yibo says again.
Xiao Zhan swats at Yibo's arm, but says, "Stretch me. Like this." He holds up his hand and makes a peace sign. Gingerly, Yibo mimics the movement. There's more resistance than he expects and he can't really get his fingers apart. Before he can ask how, Xiao Zhan says, "Go in deep, deep as you can, then open, keep them open as you pull out."
He follows instructions and finds it works. Xiao Zhan's rim stretches around the tug of his fingers, slightly more easily when he does it again. It doesn't get the shivers and twitching cock that rubbing Xiao Zhan's prostate did, but Xiao Zhan's moans and clenching fists are almost as satisfying. They tell Yibo he's doing a good job, and he loves knowing he's doing a good job.
Like he hears what Yibo's thinking, Xiao Zhan gasps, "Yes, just like that," and sends one hand up to clench in his own hair.
Long before Yibo gets bored of this new activity, Xiao Zhan starts pleading for more again. "Three?" Yibo asks.
"Four," Xiao Zhan says, eyes wide, color flushing his face and chest.
That seems extreme, but Yibo doesn't argue. He does remember that Xiao Zhan had told him he could go at his own pace, though. Everything is more than slippery enough for him to get a third finger in, and he uses them to tease Xiao Zhan's prostate until he's babbling and begging. Yibo almost doesn't care if he never gets to put his dick in. Seeing Xiao Zhan like this because of something Yibo is doing is hotter than anything that's ever happened in his life.
He doesn't even realize when he gets his little finger in alongside the others. He'd twisted his wrist, easing a cramp, pushed back in when Xiao Zhan pleaded for more, and now somehow Xiao Zhan's rim is stretched around the width of Yibo's palm. Before Yibo can snatch his hand back, Xiao Zhan grips his wrist, holding him there.
Yibo murmurs something he means as a protest, but Xiao Zhan stops him. "Look at me. Look how good."
Like Yibo could look anywhere else. Xiao Zhan's thighs are straining, there's sweat gleaming on his belly, his prick is hard and leaking. But, "Look at me," Xiao Zhan says again, and Yibo looks at his face.
He's glowing. Yibo's seen him happy. All kinds of happy, from pleased a scene went well, to joy at seeing someone he hasn't seen in a while, to the satisfied smile after an orgasm, and everything in between. But he's never seen him look like this.
Any last vestige of fear and insecurity leaves him. He can do this, and it's going to be amazing. He is going to be amazing.
He lowers himself between Xiao Zhan's spread thighs, holding himself up with his arms, looking at the face he's become far too fond of in the last couple months.
There's some fumbling as they both try to guide Yibo in, but then he's there, head of his cock pressing against the entrance of Xiao Zhan's body. And in. Just the tip at first, and it takes every ounce of control Yibo's learned in a lifetime of dance classes to not just push the rest of the way inside.
Xiao Zhan's legs come up around his hips, and there's no need for pushing. Xiao Zhan's pulling him in, lifting up to meet him. They're fucking.
They're fucking.
Wang Yibo is fucking his boyfriend. He never thought that would happen.
It's hot and slick and tight and it feels so good he can hardly breathe. But still that's not even as good as watching Xiao Zhan's face. He's so open and expressive always—it's what makes him such a good actor—but Yibo's getting something Xiao Zhan's never given the camera. Yibo tries to give something of that openness back.
"Yes," Xiao Zhan says, "Yes." He pulls Yibo close and kisses him.
__
It's over way too soon, but after, the way Xiao Zhan's holding Yibo close and tangling his fingers in Yibo's hair, Yibo can tell that they're going to do it again. Possibly so many times they both lose count.
~fin