3 drabbles (ChanSoo, Taoris, TaoHan)
Title: Got Da Beatz
Author eoryndal
Rating: r (for a mini sex scene)
Pairing: Chanyeol/Kyungsoo
Word count: ~1000
A/N: Originally written here for seoulfulness
Dedicated to my lovely beatbox couple~
Being childhood friends, Kyungsoo has known Chanyeol almost all his life. He's never had any tact, only too much energy and crazy ideas. It's no wonder then that since the day Chanyeol discovered beatboxing and decided to try it for himself, Kyungsoo hasn't had one morning in peace and quiet.
When Chanyeol rings his doorbell early in the morning because they always walk to school together, he stumbles down the stairs tiredly and finds himself in a headlock. Neither this nor Chanyeol's broad smile are out of the ordinary but then the tall boy (who has always towered over Kyungsoo on his awkward long stick legs) lifts one of his awkward long stick arms, brings a fist to his mouth and produces a series of sounds that have only a vague resemblance to drums or any other percussion instrument.
He finishes with a "g-g-g-good morning chk-chk-uhh" and beams at Kyungsoo who stares back wide-eyed.
Despite his friend's lack of enthusiasm for his newly discovered skill, Chanyeol keeps practicing and showing up on his doorstep with the same greeting every morning, adding a few new techniques from time to time. He doesn't get considerably better at beatboxing though, not even when he picks up the drums which should help his sense of rhythm but doesn't. (Kyungsoo picks up the piano.)
"Why piano?" Chanyeol whines over the soft and melodious sound of Kyungsoo practicing Greensleeves. "That's so lame. And your hands are too small anyway. But your cheeks would be perfect for beatboxing, man." He pinches Kyungsoo's soft cheeks and laughs when he blushes and takes one hand off the ivory keys to swat at him. Chanyeol pouts but being the cheerful nature that he is, his trademark smile is soon back on his lips. Kyungsoo's next rendition of Greensleeves is accompanied by Chanyeol's avid beatboxing which totally throws him out of his rhythm.
It takes years and years but even Kyungsoo has to admit that Chanyeol gets better. By the time they finish middle school, he can do a believable imitation of kick drums, snare drums, a dozen of other click, bang and boom sounds and even hum a melody while doing so. He's also picked up rapping. (What Kyungsoo doesn't tell him is that he has secretly practiced too. Turns out his cheeks are indeed ideal for beatboxing.)
When Kyungsoo's dog dies of old age, a sweet little Maltese, Chanyeol attends the funeral in their backyard and holds his crying friend to his chest. The way Kyungsoo stares forlornly at the little mound of soil and flowers breaks Chanyeol's heart. If only there was anything he could do.
"Hey." He tries to ask quietly but since puberty he's always had trouble keeping the deep rumbles of his voice in check. "Do you want me to do a funeral march?"
Kyungsoo turns to him, eyes wide and brimming with tears. "No!" he cries and doesn't speak to Chanyeol for a week.
Chanyeol appears in front of his door with movie tickets and a bunch of flowers and crushes Kyungsoo in a hug that almost throws the smaller boy off his feet. Kyungsoo has always had a soft heart and he's missed his best friend, so he accepts the apology. He waits graciously until Chanyeol stops squishing him and shouting in joy, and pretends he can't hear his older sister giggling in the background. (Because, really, flowers?!)
They both pretend it's not a movie date, even when they sit in the last row and watch a stupid rom-com. Kyungsoo is glad that it's dark because while Chanyeol's legs which are currently resting on the seat in front of him are still awkward long sticks, his arms are now sort of buff and sort of really nice and he blushes every time Chanyeol digs into the popcorn bag in his lap. The movie is boring and Kyungsoo only keeps his eyes on the screen so he doesn't gawk at the way Chanyeol throws his head back to catch the kernels with his mouth. When the girl on the screen finally marches down the aisle towards her future husband, Chanyeol beatboxes his own version of the wedding march and they end up getting thrown out of the theatre.
One day during summer break when they hang out in Kyungsoo's room, Kyungsoo leafing through some music magazines and Chanyeol beatboxing, Kyungsoo accidentally blows his cover by commenting offhandedly. "You know, when you go 'bww t t keh t t bww', it would help your breathing if you did an inward snare on the 'keh', not an outward."
Chanyeol stares at him, then shouts enthusiastically. "Did you just beatbox?!" Kyungsoo shakes his head quickly.
Chanyeol claps happily and shouts. "Do it again!" Kyungsoo does. Chanyeol tackles him to the bed and smashes their mouths together until Kyungsoo stops squirming. Then he pushes himself up, grins his stupid broad grin at Kyungsoo and shouts for a beatbox battle.
(They find out that Kyungsoo's technique is much better than Chanyeol's and fits his rapping style perfectly.)
The worst thing about Chanyeol's lack of tact is that it applies to the bedroom as well. The foreplay is perfect because his hands can do wonders and Kyungsoo keeps his mouth busy but when he pushes the taller man on his back and rides him, there's a sparkle in his eyes that Kyungsoo knows all too well. He can't say anything through his moans but he smacks Chanyeol's chest, hoping he'll get the hint. Of course it doesn't work because Chanyeol knows no subtle hints and he thinks it's a great idea to accompany Kyungsoo's bounces with a beat. Kyungsoo is already too close to the edge to stop now and he has no choice but to orgasm to Chanyeol's beatboxing.
Title: Arms Like Yours
Author eoryndal
Rating: g
Pairing: platonic Taoris
Word count: ~1000
A/N: Originally written here for seoulfulness
During their break at dance practice, Wu Fan hears Zitao sighing and turns his head to find the youngest bent over his mobile phone. His thumbs is sliding over the touchscreen, probably scrolling through a website.
"What are you doing?"
"Oh, duizhang. It's nothing." The way he hides his phone away and fakes a smile tells Wu Fan that Zitao didn't want to be found out, much less talk about it. So he offers Zitao a small smile that's supposed to be encouraging and slides an arm around his shoulders, giving a gentle squeeze.
The next time he sees the same shadow pass over Zitao's face is when they're all lounging around the couch table with their laptops open. Management has encouraged them to check fan responses to their latest activities to gauge the atmosphere and right now, he can tell something is bothering Zitao.
The other four have their heads stuck together, translating back and forth, not paying the remaining two any attention. Wu Fan puts a careful hand on Zitao's wrist and the younger lifts his eyes up with a guarded look.
"Anti-fans?" He takes a wild guess, sort of. Zitao bites his lip, then shakes his head.
"No... It's..." He turns his laptop screen to Wu Fan and edges closer to him, pressing against his side almost as if searching for protection. Wu Fan skims over the website while his arm automatically comes up and rubs soothingly along Zitao's side. It doesn't take long to figure out what is bothering him. The tab he has opened shows one of his fanpages and people are causing an uproar over the sasaeng incident.
"I hate when people fight," Zitao whispers, keeping his voice low because he doesn't want to alarm the other four band members. "Somehow I feel like this is my fault."
"It's not. You know it's not," Wu Fan reasons, hoping his arms around Zitao can ease his worries a bit and it seems to work. "There will be other incidents like this. The more famous we get, the more those kinds of people want to take parts of our private lives. Better steel ourselves now, hm?" He moves his other hand to push Zitao's head gently onto his shoulder and strokes a thumb over his cheeks until Zitao nods quietly.
"Don't let it get to you. But if it does, I'm always here for you, you know that, don't you?"
Zitao gets a lot better after that, eyes gleaming brightly just the way they did before. With his trademark call of "Duizhang!" he finds Wu Fan in the bathroom brushing his teeth the next evening. Wu Fan looks up from the sink as Zitao wraps his arms around his waist and plops his chin on his shoulder. "Just wanted to tell you that I'm always here for you, too." Wu Fan smiles a foam-filled smile at him through the mirror and brings one hand up to ruffle his hair.
Wu Fan has never pegged himself as a touchy-feely guy and he would readily admit that the whole skinship thing in Korea had weirded him out at first. But even he can't deny that there is a sense of comfort in touch that can't be achieved with mere words, no matter how heartfelt. That's why he puts down the small bag of chips he's been holding when they're sitting in front of the tv a few days later and he happens to notice Zitao's expression. His eyes are not following the movements on the screen and once more, there's that grim expression on his face.
"Stop thinking about it," he says and pulls the younger into his lap.
"How did you know?" Zitao lets his two legs dangle off the side of Wu Fan's lap and nuzzles his shoulder into his chest. Wu Fan's arms close around him to keep him from slipping off his lap and both relax into the embrace.
"I can just tell."
They stay like that until Lu Han comes into the living room and laughs at them with his mouth hanging wide open. Wu Fan knows they probably look stupid because they're both so tall and Zitao hangs in his arms like a humongous teddy-bear but he just crumples the empty chips bag into a ball and chucks it at Lu Han's head.
It's only a few weeks later when he notices how used he's gotten to Zitao's warm body in his arms and how it might seem to others when Jongdae opens the door to their shared room, pauses a moment and gives him a weird look, before progressing to his bed and dropping the wet towel from his head.
He's taken to using any Chinese words he knows in his Korean sentences and so he says in a weird mix of languages. "If you start undressing, tell me, so I can leave the room."
Wu Fan blinks, then realizes he's holding a dead-tired Zitao in his arms, both of them sprawled on his too-small bed. He looks at the black crop of Zitao's hair, then up at Jongdae and shrugs. "Not going to undress."
"Me neither," comes Zitao's muffled voice from between the pillows. "Except to shower, if you're done in the bathroom, Chenchen." He untangles his long limbs from Wu Fan's, heaves himself up and pads into the bathroom.
It's not weird to them, and it certainly isn't sexual, even when Zitao wedges himself between Wu Fan's legs as they lie on the couch and lets his whole body flop on top of Wu Fan's, even when Wu Fan's large hands come to rest on Zitao's back underneath his shirt to absorb the glowing warmth of his skin. It doesn't matter to them how many bad jokes their band mates make when they find them draped over each other.
It is a feeling of belonging somewhere for Wu Fan when he gets homesick and doesn't know if he misses Vancouver or his hometown in China or the dorm in Korea and it is a source of strength for Zitao when he hits a low in his wavering self-confidence and sometimes it's just a way of saying 'thank you' or 'you worked hard' or 'I'm happy'. It is knowing that someone is always there for you.
Title: Lu Han + bed = otp
Author eoryndal
Rating: pg (some swearing)
Pairing: TaoHan
Word count: ~500
"Get the fuck off my bed, Zitao. You know I meant what I said in that interview," Lu Han growled.
He had been sprawled out on his back lazily and enjoyed a few extra moments of warmth and puffy cotton softness when something huge and solid crashed into him with a cry of joy. He had cracked his eyes open to find a mop of unruly black hair on his pillow.
Zitao's hair. On his pillow.
Of course he demanded his precious space back. And because he was smart, he added with another growl. "And don't even try to use aegyo on me. My heart is of stony stone. Your bbuing bbuing attacks won't make me give in."
Usually, Lu Han's pissed voice was enough to convey that someone was about to make an intimate acquaintance with his shins or even fists. Today, however, Zitao deemed it a good idea to be a playful maknae (a.k.a. pain in the ass) and bounced up and down with a bright smile.
The wobbling mattress caused Lu Han's body to rock unsteadily and that was something he could absolutely not stand. He went from irritated to downright murderous. Zitao caught the slow turn of his head and the accompanying death-stare, so he quickly stopped hopping and ducked his head to appear smaller and more innocent, looking up from under his lashes, while Lu Han sucked in a slow, deep breath preparing to shout.
Instead of scrambling off the bed and running for his life, Zitao suddenly got a brilliant idea.
He jumped on top of Lu Han, which knocked the breath right out of his lungs, and aligned their arms and legs.
"I'm not on your bed, though!" he exclaimed triumphantly and grinned down at Lu Han like he had won a trophy, wriggling his fingers and toes on top of Lu Han's to emphasize his point. He really wasn't touching the mattress like this. (But he looked like a demented starfish.)
Despite his attempt to stay duly angry, Lu Han had to laugh and Zitao struggled not to lose his balance on his shaking ribcage.
"You win," Lu Han grudgingly squeezed out with a little huff. His voice sounded compressed, as if a walrus was sitting on his windpipe. "Now, get off, can't breathe."
"If I do, will you let me on your bed?"
Conniving bastard. Lu Han groaned with his last bit of air. "Five minutes" he conceded and when Zitao rolled off him, he drew a huge gulp of breath into his lungs.
Then Lu Han shoved him playfully, but not enough to tip him over the edge of the bed.
"You're a giant baby."
Zitao nodded with a grin, tugged on the cloudy, soft cover and nestled deeper into the comfyness that was Lu Han's bed.
"Unbelievable," Lu Han grumbled, still a bit peeved that he had been tricked into letting someone on his bed. "This is the first and last time ever, are we clear?" He ruffled Zitao's hair not too gently but he couldn't help a fond smile when the younger tucked his head under Lu Han's chin to escape from his rough hands.
Author eoryndal
Rating: r (for a mini sex scene)
Pairing: Chanyeol/Kyungsoo
Word count: ~1000
A/N: Originally written here for seoulfulness
Dedicated to my lovely beatbox couple~
Being childhood friends, Kyungsoo has known Chanyeol almost all his life. He's never had any tact, only too much energy and crazy ideas. It's no wonder then that since the day Chanyeol discovered beatboxing and decided to try it for himself, Kyungsoo hasn't had one morning in peace and quiet.
When Chanyeol rings his doorbell early in the morning because they always walk to school together, he stumbles down the stairs tiredly and finds himself in a headlock. Neither this nor Chanyeol's broad smile are out of the ordinary but then the tall boy (who has always towered over Kyungsoo on his awkward long stick legs) lifts one of his awkward long stick arms, brings a fist to his mouth and produces a series of sounds that have only a vague resemblance to drums or any other percussion instrument.
He finishes with a "g-g-g-good morning chk-chk-uhh" and beams at Kyungsoo who stares back wide-eyed.
Despite his friend's lack of enthusiasm for his newly discovered skill, Chanyeol keeps practicing and showing up on his doorstep with the same greeting every morning, adding a few new techniques from time to time. He doesn't get considerably better at beatboxing though, not even when he picks up the drums which should help his sense of rhythm but doesn't. (Kyungsoo picks up the piano.)
"Why piano?" Chanyeol whines over the soft and melodious sound of Kyungsoo practicing Greensleeves. "That's so lame. And your hands are too small anyway. But your cheeks would be perfect for beatboxing, man." He pinches Kyungsoo's soft cheeks and laughs when he blushes and takes one hand off the ivory keys to swat at him. Chanyeol pouts but being the cheerful nature that he is, his trademark smile is soon back on his lips. Kyungsoo's next rendition of Greensleeves is accompanied by Chanyeol's avid beatboxing which totally throws him out of his rhythm.
It takes years and years but even Kyungsoo has to admit that Chanyeol gets better. By the time they finish middle school, he can do a believable imitation of kick drums, snare drums, a dozen of other click, bang and boom sounds and even hum a melody while doing so. He's also picked up rapping. (What Kyungsoo doesn't tell him is that he has secretly practiced too. Turns out his cheeks are indeed ideal for beatboxing.)
When Kyungsoo's dog dies of old age, a sweet little Maltese, Chanyeol attends the funeral in their backyard and holds his crying friend to his chest. The way Kyungsoo stares forlornly at the little mound of soil and flowers breaks Chanyeol's heart. If only there was anything he could do.
"Hey." He tries to ask quietly but since puberty he's always had trouble keeping the deep rumbles of his voice in check. "Do you want me to do a funeral march?"
Kyungsoo turns to him, eyes wide and brimming with tears. "No!" he cries and doesn't speak to Chanyeol for a week.
Chanyeol appears in front of his door with movie tickets and a bunch of flowers and crushes Kyungsoo in a hug that almost throws the smaller boy off his feet. Kyungsoo has always had a soft heart and he's missed his best friend, so he accepts the apology. He waits graciously until Chanyeol stops squishing him and shouting in joy, and pretends he can't hear his older sister giggling in the background. (Because, really, flowers?!)
They both pretend it's not a movie date, even when they sit in the last row and watch a stupid rom-com. Kyungsoo is glad that it's dark because while Chanyeol's legs which are currently resting on the seat in front of him are still awkward long sticks, his arms are now sort of buff and sort of really nice and he blushes every time Chanyeol digs into the popcorn bag in his lap. The movie is boring and Kyungsoo only keeps his eyes on the screen so he doesn't gawk at the way Chanyeol throws his head back to catch the kernels with his mouth. When the girl on the screen finally marches down the aisle towards her future husband, Chanyeol beatboxes his own version of the wedding march and they end up getting thrown out of the theatre.
One day during summer break when they hang out in Kyungsoo's room, Kyungsoo leafing through some music magazines and Chanyeol beatboxing, Kyungsoo accidentally blows his cover by commenting offhandedly. "You know, when you go 'bww t t keh t t bww', it would help your breathing if you did an inward snare on the 'keh', not an outward."
Chanyeol stares at him, then shouts enthusiastically. "Did you just beatbox?!" Kyungsoo shakes his head quickly.
Chanyeol claps happily and shouts. "Do it again!" Kyungsoo does. Chanyeol tackles him to the bed and smashes their mouths together until Kyungsoo stops squirming. Then he pushes himself up, grins his stupid broad grin at Kyungsoo and shouts for a beatbox battle.
(They find out that Kyungsoo's technique is much better than Chanyeol's and fits his rapping style perfectly.)
The worst thing about Chanyeol's lack of tact is that it applies to the bedroom as well. The foreplay is perfect because his hands can do wonders and Kyungsoo keeps his mouth busy but when he pushes the taller man on his back and rides him, there's a sparkle in his eyes that Kyungsoo knows all too well. He can't say anything through his moans but he smacks Chanyeol's chest, hoping he'll get the hint. Of course it doesn't work because Chanyeol knows no subtle hints and he thinks it's a great idea to accompany Kyungsoo's bounces with a beat. Kyungsoo is already too close to the edge to stop now and he has no choice but to orgasm to Chanyeol's beatboxing.
Title: Arms Like Yours
Author eoryndal
Rating: g
Pairing: platonic Taoris
Word count: ~1000
A/N: Originally written here for seoulfulness
During their break at dance practice, Wu Fan hears Zitao sighing and turns his head to find the youngest bent over his mobile phone. His thumbs is sliding over the touchscreen, probably scrolling through a website.
"What are you doing?"
"Oh, duizhang. It's nothing." The way he hides his phone away and fakes a smile tells Wu Fan that Zitao didn't want to be found out, much less talk about it. So he offers Zitao a small smile that's supposed to be encouraging and slides an arm around his shoulders, giving a gentle squeeze.
The next time he sees the same shadow pass over Zitao's face is when they're all lounging around the couch table with their laptops open. Management has encouraged them to check fan responses to their latest activities to gauge the atmosphere and right now, he can tell something is bothering Zitao.
The other four have their heads stuck together, translating back and forth, not paying the remaining two any attention. Wu Fan puts a careful hand on Zitao's wrist and the younger lifts his eyes up with a guarded look.
"Anti-fans?" He takes a wild guess, sort of. Zitao bites his lip, then shakes his head.
"No... It's..." He turns his laptop screen to Wu Fan and edges closer to him, pressing against his side almost as if searching for protection. Wu Fan skims over the website while his arm automatically comes up and rubs soothingly along Zitao's side. It doesn't take long to figure out what is bothering him. The tab he has opened shows one of his fanpages and people are causing an uproar over the sasaeng incident.
"I hate when people fight," Zitao whispers, keeping his voice low because he doesn't want to alarm the other four band members. "Somehow I feel like this is my fault."
"It's not. You know it's not," Wu Fan reasons, hoping his arms around Zitao can ease his worries a bit and it seems to work. "There will be other incidents like this. The more famous we get, the more those kinds of people want to take parts of our private lives. Better steel ourselves now, hm?" He moves his other hand to push Zitao's head gently onto his shoulder and strokes a thumb over his cheeks until Zitao nods quietly.
"Don't let it get to you. But if it does, I'm always here for you, you know that, don't you?"
Zitao gets a lot better after that, eyes gleaming brightly just the way they did before. With his trademark call of "Duizhang!" he finds Wu Fan in the bathroom brushing his teeth the next evening. Wu Fan looks up from the sink as Zitao wraps his arms around his waist and plops his chin on his shoulder. "Just wanted to tell you that I'm always here for you, too." Wu Fan smiles a foam-filled smile at him through the mirror and brings one hand up to ruffle his hair.
Wu Fan has never pegged himself as a touchy-feely guy and he would readily admit that the whole skinship thing in Korea had weirded him out at first. But even he can't deny that there is a sense of comfort in touch that can't be achieved with mere words, no matter how heartfelt. That's why he puts down the small bag of chips he's been holding when they're sitting in front of the tv a few days later and he happens to notice Zitao's expression. His eyes are not following the movements on the screen and once more, there's that grim expression on his face.
"Stop thinking about it," he says and pulls the younger into his lap.
"How did you know?" Zitao lets his two legs dangle off the side of Wu Fan's lap and nuzzles his shoulder into his chest. Wu Fan's arms close around him to keep him from slipping off his lap and both relax into the embrace.
"I can just tell."
They stay like that until Lu Han comes into the living room and laughs at them with his mouth hanging wide open. Wu Fan knows they probably look stupid because they're both so tall and Zitao hangs in his arms like a humongous teddy-bear but he just crumples the empty chips bag into a ball and chucks it at Lu Han's head.
It's only a few weeks later when he notices how used he's gotten to Zitao's warm body in his arms and how it might seem to others when Jongdae opens the door to their shared room, pauses a moment and gives him a weird look, before progressing to his bed and dropping the wet towel from his head.
He's taken to using any Chinese words he knows in his Korean sentences and so he says in a weird mix of languages. "If you start undressing, tell me, so I can leave the room."
Wu Fan blinks, then realizes he's holding a dead-tired Zitao in his arms, both of them sprawled on his too-small bed. He looks at the black crop of Zitao's hair, then up at Jongdae and shrugs. "Not going to undress."
"Me neither," comes Zitao's muffled voice from between the pillows. "Except to shower, if you're done in the bathroom, Chenchen." He untangles his long limbs from Wu Fan's, heaves himself up and pads into the bathroom.
It's not weird to them, and it certainly isn't sexual, even when Zitao wedges himself between Wu Fan's legs as they lie on the couch and lets his whole body flop on top of Wu Fan's, even when Wu Fan's large hands come to rest on Zitao's back underneath his shirt to absorb the glowing warmth of his skin. It doesn't matter to them how many bad jokes their band mates make when they find them draped over each other.
It is a feeling of belonging somewhere for Wu Fan when he gets homesick and doesn't know if he misses Vancouver or his hometown in China or the dorm in Korea and it is a source of strength for Zitao when he hits a low in his wavering self-confidence and sometimes it's just a way of saying 'thank you' or 'you worked hard' or 'I'm happy'. It is knowing that someone is always there for you.
Title: Lu Han + bed = otp
Author eoryndal
Rating: pg (some swearing)
Pairing: TaoHan
Word count: ~500
"Get the fuck off my bed, Zitao. You know I meant what I said in that interview," Lu Han growled.
He had been sprawled out on his back lazily and enjoyed a few extra moments of warmth and puffy cotton softness when something huge and solid crashed into him with a cry of joy. He had cracked his eyes open to find a mop of unruly black hair on his pillow.
Zitao's hair. On his pillow.
Of course he demanded his precious space back. And because he was smart, he added with another growl. "And don't even try to use aegyo on me. My heart is of stony stone. Your bbuing bbuing attacks won't make me give in."
Usually, Lu Han's pissed voice was enough to convey that someone was about to make an intimate acquaintance with his shins or even fists. Today, however, Zitao deemed it a good idea to be a playful maknae (a.k.a. pain in the ass) and bounced up and down with a bright smile.
The wobbling mattress caused Lu Han's body to rock unsteadily and that was something he could absolutely not stand. He went from irritated to downright murderous. Zitao caught the slow turn of his head and the accompanying death-stare, so he quickly stopped hopping and ducked his head to appear smaller and more innocent, looking up from under his lashes, while Lu Han sucked in a slow, deep breath preparing to shout.
Instead of scrambling off the bed and running for his life, Zitao suddenly got a brilliant idea.
He jumped on top of Lu Han, which knocked the breath right out of his lungs, and aligned their arms and legs.
"I'm not on your bed, though!" he exclaimed triumphantly and grinned down at Lu Han like he had won a trophy, wriggling his fingers and toes on top of Lu Han's to emphasize his point. He really wasn't touching the mattress like this. (But he looked like a demented starfish.)
Despite his attempt to stay duly angry, Lu Han had to laugh and Zitao struggled not to lose his balance on his shaking ribcage.
"You win," Lu Han grudgingly squeezed out with a little huff. His voice sounded compressed, as if a walrus was sitting on his windpipe. "Now, get off, can't breathe."
"If I do, will you let me on your bed?"
Conniving bastard. Lu Han groaned with his last bit of air. "Five minutes" he conceded and when Zitao rolled off him, he drew a huge gulp of breath into his lungs.
Then Lu Han shoved him playfully, but not enough to tip him over the edge of the bed.
"You're a giant baby."
Zitao nodded with a grin, tugged on the cloudy, soft cover and nestled deeper into the comfyness that was Lu Han's bed.
"Unbelievable," Lu Han grumbled, still a bit peeved that he had been tricked into letting someone on his bed. "This is the first and last time ever, are we clear?" He ruffled Zitao's hair not too gently but he couldn't help a fond smile when the younger tucked his head under Lu Han's chin to escape from his rough hands.