So Foreign, So Familiar
pairing: Tao/Suho
rating: NC-17
word count: 5.3k
warning(s): none.
summary: Zitao is tired of the monotony his life brings him, and Joonmyun is the perfect distraction.
author's note: I had loads of fun writing this fic, and I’d like to dedicate it to someone very dear to me! Also, a special thanks to a certain potato, my partner in crime.
Orginially posted at taobeis.
Zitao has better things to do than attend a dinner with his parents and one of his father’s business partners on a Saturday night. These sorts of affairs are always monotonous, filled with rapid conversations he can’t keep up with to save his life. His mother simply sits there by his father’s side, looking pretty and pretending she can understand what the men talk about. He wishes he could be more like her, but it’s hard to sit still for a few hours at a time because he’s a young man in his late teens. Instead of being cooped up in his own home, he should be outside partying until the sun is down. Most people his age will tell him to suck it up. Any of them would love to switch places with the boy who can afford to drive a Maserati around town. His peers are envious of the Huangs’ luxurious lifestyle, but little do they know that the price Zitao has to pay is his freedom.
Tonight is different, though. Mr. Huang usually brings home old farts for dinner, so when Zitao is introduced to a handsome gentleman named Kim Joonmyun, he knows the evening will be anything but boring. He isn’t averse to shaking Joonmyun’s hand, nor personally escorting him over to the dining room. The table is already set up for a three-course meal, and their guest takes the place of honor at the head of the table with Zitao’s parents to his right. Zitao sits down to Joonmyun’s left, delighted to get an up-close and personal view of one of his father’s business partners for the first time.
Once everyone is settled down, they’re served miniature crab cakes with a wedge of lemon on the side for extra zest. As if on cue, Mr. Huang launches into a spiel. Joonmyun takes it in stride, listening attentively and nodding in between bites of food. Zitao can’t even be bothered to touch his plate because all he craves is Joonmyun. Everything about this man screams exquisite, from the way he carries himself to the mole above his upper lip. It’s a good thing no one is paying Zitao any attention, or else they’d notice the hazy look in his eyes.
Zitao takes the opportunity to size Joonmyun up. He starts from the man’s left hand, trying to to detect the faintest traces of tan lines a wedding band would leave behind. All he finds are long, pretty fingers he’d love to suck on before they work him open. Next, his gaze sweeps over the elder’s impeccable profile. Zitao has the urge to pepper kisses all over Joonmyun’s jawline, working his way closer and closer to his lips, but never touching. He wants to hear the man beg, but deep inside he knows he’d love to be the one begging for Joonmyun to let him cum. With all the life experiences Joonmyun has had, he could teach Zitao a thing or two behind closed doors. The thought of letting Joonmyun do as he pleases to him is exciting.
“Zitao, tell Mr. Kim about your studies,” Mr. Huang cuts in, pulling Zitao back to reality.
The young man smiles bashfully at Joonmyun, unable to meet his eyes fully. Zitao’s never been nervous around the boys he’s liked, but then again, Joonmyun isn’t a boy. Joonmyun is a mature, wise, and breathtakingly beautiful man. Like fine wine, the passing of time has done wonders to the elder’s appearance. He’s still young compared to everyone else in the corporate world, but old enough to entice Zitao more than anyone his age ever could.
“I only started university a couple weeks back, but I work diligently in order to follow in my father’s footsteps. Under his guidance, I’m double-majoring in finance and international business,” Zitao shares, the lack of enthusiasm apparent in his voice. Mr. Huang shakes his head from across the table, but doesn’t say any more on the matter because this dinner is all about himself, as always.
“You must be working really hard. I hope your old man cuts you some slack from time to time because I know how much work it is to keep up in the Ivy Leagues,” Joonmyun sympathizes, and Zitao swears the elder was about to reach over for his hand. It’s the lighting, he tells himself, because Joonmyun would never allow himself to touch someone below him.
The first course is taken away and replaced with a salmon fillet covered in a wine-butter sauce over a bed of greens. The aroma has Zitao’s mouth watering, but he holds himself back from devouring the entire plate. He doesn’t want to leave Joonmyun with a bad impression.
Mr. Huang takes over the conversation once more, steering it back to stocks and bonds. Now that Joonmyun’s attention is directed elsewhere, Zitao can stare at the elder all he wants as he eats slowly. Joonmyun looks so dignified as he brings the fork up to his mouth, parting his lips for a bite of fish and humming in delight afterwards. Zitao wonders if Joonmyun would look just as happy if Zitao were to suck him off in the backseat of his car.
For the remainder of the dinner, no one says another word to Zitao. They seem to have forgotten him entirely. His father’s business will always come first, family second. Zitao doesn’t mind one bit, though, because he’s used to being ignored. And besides, the view from his seat makes up for everything.
“It was a pleasure having you as our guest tonight, Mr. Kim. If you’re not in a hurry, there a few things I’d like to discuss with you in private,” Mr. Huang announces after the parfait glasses are cleared from the table.
“I’m in no hurry at all. Please lead the way,” Joonmyun replies and dabs his lips with a linen napkin. He thanks Mrs. Huang and Zitao for allowing him to join them before he hurries after Mr. Huang out of the dining room.
Once Joonmyun is out of sight, Zitao slumps in his seat with a huff. He misses the elder already, even though they barely said a word to each other. His mother rounds the table and kisses him atop his head, advising her boy to not stay up too late. She takes her leave promptly, too. Zitao feels utterly alone, even with the butlers cleaning up the table and buzzing around him. He doesn’t have it in him to move just yet because his energy reserve has been used up to hold himself back from lunging across the table and ravishing Joonmyun.
“Sir, would you like a bath drawn?” one of the men ask him. A nice long soak sounds good right about now, but Zitao simply wants to go to bed and forget about tonight. The sooner slumber takes over, the sooner he can stop feeling like the immature boy Joonmyun probably sees in him.
“No, thanks,” Zitao replies softly and slinks over to his room on the second floor. He strips down to his underwear, leaving the rest of his clothes by the door. He slips into the bed and rests on his back. The darkness that consumes him brings forth a sense of comfort, something that money could never buy. Expensive massages and the world’s finest fabrics are nothing compared to the bliss that comes with the night. Flashbacks of dinner run through his head, every single detail about Joonmyun etched into his memory. He keeps thinking back to the moment when he swore Joonmyun was about to touch him. The elder may be small in stature, but his hands look like they could leave bruising prints all over Zitao in order to exert his dominance. Zitao would gladly submit.
Outside in the hallway, Zitao can hear footsteps and hushed whispers. It must be his father and Joonmyun because his father always takes guests to the study room two doors down for privacy. The young man is tempted to slip out of bed and bid their guest farewell, but he knows his father would only scold him for being obtrusive. He doesn’t know when he’ll ever see Joonmyun again, so he takes the risk and pads over to the door, cracking it open a bit. Joonmyun is all alone as he heads for the stairs, and Zitao peeks down the other end of the hallway, seeing his father return to the study. Once the coast is clear, Zitao follows behind Joonmyun from a safe distance. He tries to come up with a reason as to why he’s still awake so late in the night, in case Joonmyun catches him. The little game of cat and mouse goes nowhere. Joonmyun never glances over his shoulder, and Zitao is too scared to speak up.
Once Joonmyun reaches the front door, he finally turns around and smiles fondly at Zitao as if he had known the young man had been tailing him all along. With a hand gesture, he beckons for Zitao to come closer. Zitao is apprehensive because he feels like a deer caught in headlights.
“What’s with the hesitation? You weren’t shy earlier on when you undressed me with your eyes,” Joonmyun states, brows raised. It’s a blessing most of the house is asleep, or else Zitao would be more mortified than he already is if someone had overheard.
Zitao’s knees lock, refusing to let him move anywhere. His mind knows this is a dangerous game to play, but his dick is telling him otherwise. He leans against the nearest wall for support and avoids meeting Joonmyun’s gaze. Following the elder was a bad idea from the beginning, thinking he had a chance with someone so sophisticated was even worse.
“I-I don’t know… what you’re t-talking about!” Zitao sputters and then shouts when Joonmyun walks over to him, looking calm, cool, and collected.
“Oh, but I remember how much you had to hold yourself back during dinner. I must admit, I almost slipped up, too.” Joonmyun cocks his head to the side, smirking like the devil himself. He places a hand on Zitao’s hip, reminding the latter that he is wearing very little clothing.
Zitao hates himself for having no self-control because he’s already half-hard in his underpants. All Joonmyun had to do was touch him once, embarrassingly enough. He doesn’t want to know what a kiss would do, but the temptation is there. If he were to lean forward just a little bit, their mouths would meet in sin.
“Someone might walk in on us,” Zitao mutters, not thinking about the implications of his words.
“Would you like to walk me to my car?” Joonmyun asks without pause, and Zitao nods dumbly because his dick is on auto-pilot.
Joonmyun slides his hand towards Zitao’s back, resting it dangerously close to the swell of his ass. He urges the boy forward gently and makes small talk on their way out. The front door is left open behind them because he doesn’t want Zitao to have to explain why he was locked out in only his underwear.
The pair head over to a jet-black Rolls-Royce parked in front of the estate, and the cool cobblestone beneath Zitao’s feet doesn’t register with him because his entire body is on fire. Joonmyun warms him up in the best and worst ways.
Once they approach the vehicle, Joonmyun pushes Zitao up against the driver’s side door. Zitao wants to complain about the pain in his left shoulder, but Joonmyun silences his protests with his mouth. Zitao forgets about how uncomfortable he is as his lips move in sync perfectly with Joonmyun’s, as if they were destined to meet. He wraps his arms around Joonmyun’s neck to bring him in closer, to bury himself deeper. It’s dizzying, the way Joonmyun kisses him eagerly and worries Zitao’s bottom lip between his teeth, darting his tongue out to swipe away the pain. Zitao wants more, parting his lips to allow Joonmyun in. The first time their tongues touch is utter bliss. He gets lost in the haze, a little too overwhelmed by the sudden change in gears. It’s a good thing Joonmyun doesn’t push him too far, taking his time licking into Zitao’s mouth and exploring every crevice. Zitao groans because he’s reminded of how painstakingly hard he is right now, and he tries to rut against Joonmyun’s thigh but then the elder is already pulling back for air. He chases after Joonmyun’s mouth, needier than ever to close off the distance between them. Joonmyun laughs and shakes his head, leaning forward to press a kiss to the corner of Zitao’s mouth. The disappointment that washes over the young man’s face must have some sort of effect on the other because he takes Zitao’s hand and squeezes it gently, then kisses the tips of his fingers.
“Don’t look so sad, my dear. I would love to have my way with you now, but I must go,” Joonmyun laments, offering a wistful smile.
Zitao thinks twice about throwing a fit, lest he wants to prove to Joonmyun that the past several minutes were a mistake. He grumbles under his breath instead, burying his face in the crook of Joonmyun’s neck. “I really want to see you again.”
Joonmyun hums in approval. “I’m happy to hear you say that, but I’m not sure when I’ll be free again.”
“Why can’t you come back tomorrow and lie to my father that you’re prepared to invest in his stupid business venture?” Zitao whines and clutches onto the back of Joonmyun’s suit jacket.
“Because my career is not a game. I need to take things seriously when it comes to potential business partners,” Joonmyun informs and detaches himself from Zitao, who fights to hold on for as long as he can. “I love your eagerness, but we’re both mature enough to realize patience is truly a virtue.”
Zitao drops his hands to his side, feeling defeated. He wedges himself out from between the car and Joonmyun, and starts for the house.
“Don’t act like this…,” Joonmyun says as he follows after the younger male, reaching out for his hand and stopping him in his tracks.
Zitao shakes his head and tries to writhe himself free. “Let go of me,” he whispers, pleading because he doesn’t want Joonmyun to see him cry. It’s already embarrassing enough that he’s gotten upset over something so small. There’s no need to make matters worse with his tears.
“If I do, you’re just going to stalk off and be mad at me. I don’t want to end things on a bad note,” Joonmyun explains and pulls Zitao flush against his chest. He entraps Zitao in his arms, but makes sure his grasp is loose enough if the boy decides this is too much for him.
Zitao grumbles under his breath and rests limply in Joonmyun’s embrace. The elder had implied this was nothing but a game to him. He doesn’t like the fact that Joonmyun really does view him as a child and a conquest, and it hurts like hell. There may be several years between them, but it doesn’t mean that Zitao can’t be mature for his age.
“Tell me what’s wrong, my dear,” Joonmyun murmurs into his ear, carding his fingers through Zitao’s hair.
Out of his own stubbornness, Zitao stays mum for several moments and simply enjoys the feeling of Joonmyun trying to placate him. He would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t like being babied like this. It’s confusing because on one hand wants to be seen as Joonmyun’s equal and on the other hand, he wants Joonmyun to take care of him. He can’t have it both ways.
“I’m just upset because I don’t know when I’ll see you again,” Zitao finally replies. It’s not a lie if he’s giving Joonmyun half the truth.
“I’ll try to make room for you as soon as possible, okay? Perhaps next week at the latest. How does that sound?” Joonmyun suggests, pulling back enough to assess Zitao’s face.
Zitao is glad the lighting outside is dim, hiding the flush of his cheeks. The way Joonmyun looks at him so intently is nerve-wracking. “Y-Yeah, that sounds good to me.”
Joonmyun grins and pecks Zitao on the lips for good measure. “I’m glad we have come to an agreement. Now behave on your way back to your room. I don’t want to arouse any suspicions,” he warns lightly.
Zitao nods dumbly before Joonmyun lets him go, and he walks back inside of the house in a daze. His mind is slow to process what has just happened. He’s afraid to pinch himself because he’s not fully prepared to accept the possibility this was all a dream. When he hears an engine come to life, he glances over his shoulder to see Joonmyun drive off. Reality or not, the bitter cold night air is no joke. He closes the front door behind him and pads up the stairs quietly, sneaking into his room without anyone catching him.
Once again, Zitao is all alone. This time, he feels warm and fuzzy inside. His chest can barely contain his erratic heartbeats, thumping heavily against his rib cage. He rolls onto his back to help himself calm down, but then he hears paper crinkling. He reaches into his underpants from the backside to find a note tucked into the waistband. What a sneaky bastard.
We’ll meet again very soon. Just you wait, my dear.
Very soon turns out to be two days after the dinner.
Zitao wakes up to a pretty red envelope with his name on it, sitting on his nightstand, and he reaches over to tear it open. Inside rests a card key to one of the city’s upscale hotels and a time scrawled onto the back with permanent marker. Zitao’s hands are shaking as he stares down at the piece of plastic. He knows what this means, and his heart kicks back into overdrive. He climbs out of bed to start his search for the perfect outfit. It’s only nine am, but god knows he’ll take forever deciding if leopard print panties will clash with his skintight leather pants.
Time passes by quickly as Zitao delves into his walk-in closet, throwing clothes all over the floor and tearing the walls down for his favorite sneakers. In the midst of the natural disaster he’s caused, he decided on a simple ensemble because he’s only going to strip down naked the moment he sees Joonmyun. He doesn’t forgo the idea of cute panties, though. It’s going to be a nice surprise for the elder.
The sun sets over the horizon by the time Zitao has finally thrown on the skimpiest tank top he could find, ripped skinny jeans, and bright pink lace panties with a bow on the front. He hopes Joonmyun finds him absolutely delectable. In order to avoid any suspicion, Zitao lies to his mother about going to a club in the downtown area and takes the bus to the hotel. As much as he hates the unsanitary seats and disgusting people public transportation brings, he doesn’t want to risk taking his Maserati anywhere. He is pretty sure his old man had the car microchipped to keep tabs on him at all times.
Zitao looks completely out of place in the hotel lobby once he arrives. The immaculate marble floors, tall columns that hold up the dome covered in cherubs and angels, and leather seating clash with his threadbare attire. He’s a homeless hooker in the eyes of the concierge, bell boys, and other guests. Despite their leering looks, he knows he’s better than all of them and heads for the elevators with his head held high. An elderly woman who enters the same car as him keeps to the emergency button, as if Zitao is interested in robbing her of her slobbering shih tzu.
Zitao smiles wryly at the woman as he passes by her to get off at the 11th floor. The hallways are empty, and the red carpeting beneath his feet help muffle his footsteps on his way to room 1107. He slides the card key into the slot, the green light comes on. Once he steps past the threshold, there is no going back. He inhales a shaky breath, calming his nerves and turning the door handle.
The room is dimly lit with only the desk lamp on. Joonmyun sits on the loveseat with his legs crossed, newspaper in hand. He peeks over towards the door and a smile creeps onto his face. He beckons for Zitao to come forward, to take a seat next to him.
"Newspaper, huh? I thought I was here to meet a young bachelor, not my grandpa," Zitao kids by the door as he toes off his shoes.
"You laugh, but I'm not the one losing precious brain cells here," Joonmyun counters as he folds up his newspaper and places it on the table. "Now, would you like something to drink before we start?"
Zitao shakes his head as he steps over to Joonmyun, dropping to his knees in front of him and prying his legs apart. He’s thirsty for something else entirely, and there are only two layers of clothing in his way. When Joonmyun doesn’t stop him, Zitao takes it as a sign to continue on. He unbuckles the elder’s belt with deft fingers, tugging down his pants and boxers once the opportunity presents itself. Zitao licks his lips at the sight of Joonmyun’s thick cock. For such a small man, the elder is well-endowed, and Zitao is delighted he has the pleasure to play with it. Unabashedly, Zitao wraps his fingers around the base and leans forward to give the crown a kitten lick. The soft whimper he elicits from Joonmyun drives Zitao to wrap his lips around him, suckling gently. He’s pleased to hear the elder slowly come undone and teases him a little more, licking stripes along the shaft until Joonmyun tugs on his hair. Zitao chuckles under his breath and grins innocently up at the man. He maintains eye contact with Joonmyun as he takes as much of his cock into his mouth as he can. Joonmyun is heavy on his tongue, and Zitao loves the feeling of his lips stretched wide around Joonmyun’s girth. Zitao is eager to please him, hollowing out his cheeks and sucking like his life depended on it.
Filthy words spill out of Joonmyun’s mouth in between heavy breaths, music to Zitao’s ears. He continues to reverently bob his head, pulling back once in awhile when his lips grow tired and digs his tongue into the slit to hear Joonmyun choke out broken moans. It feels so surreal gagging himself with Joonmyun’s dick, but Zitao will make the most of it. He’ll never allow himself to forget how musky Joonmyun smells and the bittersweetness of his precum.
Eventually, Joonmyun drags Zitao off his cock by his hair before he can cum. His face is red and breathing haggard. Zitao presumes he looks just as good as he wipes away the saliva from the corners of his mouth.
“G-Get on the bed,” Joonmyun commands, loosening his own tie and discarding it on the floor.
Zitao doesn’t need to be asked twice, and he scampers over to the bed. He’s unsure of how Joonmyun would like him, so he sits at the head of the bed, watching Joonmyun strip down to his natural state. It would be hard for anyone to tell that beneath the stuffy suit and dress shirt, Joonmyun is all lean muscle. Zitao hates how Joonmyun takes his time folding folding his clothes and placing them on the loveseat neatly. It feels an eternity has passed before he walks over to the foot of the bed, dragging Zitao down by his ankles until he’s flat on his back. Joonmyun climbs on top of him, a sly grin playing at his lips.
“I wish you had dressed like this the other night,” Joonmyun muses, fingering the flimsy fabric of Zitao’s tank top.
“If only I had known my father was going to bring home someone so handsome.” Zitao smiles up at Joonmyun as he rests a hand on the elder’s bicep, sliding his hand up to cup the back of his neck. He guides Joonmyun down for a fervent kiss, having missed him during the short period they were apart. Their kiss is sloppy, a clash of tongues and teeth. Hands are all over the place, exploring each other’s bodies. Joonmyun feels sturdy beneath Zitao’s fingertips, and he likes how smoothly his fingers glide across the elder’s chest, abdomen, and back. They part for a second only to discard Zitao of his shirt and it’s back to the carnal dance between their mouths. This is nothing like their first kiss where it was slow and experimental. Zitao doesn’t mind it either way because all he cares about is being close with Joonmyun.
Joonmyun leaves a lingering kiss on Zitao’s lips before he moves onto the younger male’s neck, sucking angry red marks into the tender flesh. Zitao can’t wait to look into a mirror to admire Joonmyun’s handiwork. He can tell Joonmyun is biding his time as he works his way down to Zitao’s chest, and Zitao is starting to get impatient. As much as he likes how Joonmyun’s tongue works wonders teasing his nipples, he just wants Joonmyun to tear these pants off and fuck him already. Joonmyun continues to take the slow road, tugging on the pink nubs with his teeth and flicking his tongue over them to soothe the pain. It’s a bittersweet torture that has Zitao muttering profanities under his breath as he tugs on the elder’s hair to urge him to move faster. If it’s even possible, he swears he feels Joonmyun smirking against his skin.
“You’re killing me,” Zitao groans, lifting his knee to nudge at Joonmyun’s erection. It garners the reaction he is looking for because Joonmyun lifts his head up and fumbles with the button of Zitao’s pants. When it’s time to shimmy out of them, Joonmyun is all wide-eyed. Until now, Zitao had completely forgotten about his little surprise. He feels shy all of a sudden and tries to cover up when his pants are shucked off to the side.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Zitao mutters.
Joonmyun shakes his head and pries the younger male’s hands away from his crotch. He traces the outline of Zitao’s cock with his forefinger, and Zitao hisses. The lacey material is uncomfortable against his straining erection, but Joonmyun doesn’t look like he wants to get rid of the panties any time soon.
“For me? You shouldn’t have,” Joonmyun says in a low voice and gives Zitao’s inner thigh a peck before he gets out of bed. Zitao is confused for a moment, wondering if he has done something wrong and then Joonmyun returns with a bottle of lube. It’s strange how Zitao’s heart speeds up at the sight.
“On all fours. Please.”
Zitao should be embarrassed by how fast he flips over onto his hands his knees like a desperate whore. He hopes the perfect view of his ass urges Joonmyun to nix the slow speed and pound into him like there’s no tomorrow.
Joonmyun seems to be under his spell when he pulls aside the panties to find what he’s looking for. He uncaps the lube, drizzling a generous amount onto his fingertips and spreads Zitao’s ass cheeks apart. Out of pure fascination, he probes his entrance to see how Zitao will react and the younger male lets out a soft whine, wiggling his ass a little.
“Fuck me with your fingers now before I do -” Zitao doesn’t get to finish spewing out his threat before he feels the first slick finger go in. It catches him off-guard, but doesn’t stop him from pushing back. Joonmyun stills him with a hand firmly planted on his hip, and slowly pumps his finger in and out of Zitao, allowing the boy to get accustomed to the foreign intrusion. It’s not like this is Zitao’s first rodeo, so he’s already crying out for more and Joonmyun concedes to his whims. Zitao loves the feeling of Joonmyun working him open and whines softly. The elder likes watching his fingers cause Zitao so much raw bliss, reminding him of his own arousal. Once Zitao swears he’s ready to have his brains fucked out of him, Joonmyun aligns his dick with Zitao’s hole and enters without warning. Zitao thinks it’s a dirty move, but who is he to talk when he’s the one begging to be used?
Just like with everything else Joonmyun does, he’s slow and he thrusts lazily into Zitao, which is rather maddening. There’s nothing Zitao wants more than to feel his ass tear in two because of Joonmyun’s cock, but that’s not going to happen if Joonmyun treats him like a porcelain doll. Zitao can’t do much, though, with Joonmyun’s hands still firmly gripping his hips. He buries his face into the pillow out of frustration, muffling a mix moans and groans - mostly the latter.
“If you never tell me, my dear, I’ll never know what you want,” Joonmyun says in all seriousness, but Zitao can sense a teasing undertone. Zitao turns his head to look over at the elder and hesitates for a moment because it’s kind of hot watching Joonmyun rocking his hips slowly against Zitao’s ass, as if they were an established couple making love. How cute. That’s not what Zitao signed up for, though. They can save the sappy sex for later.
“I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk anymore,” Zitao begs, and he never begs. He has too much pride due to his position on the social hierarchy, but Joonmyun changes everything. With Joonmyun, Zitao is simply a slut for Joonmyun’s cock and will do just about anything for it.
Joonmyun gives Zitao’s ass a gentle squeeze, a useless warning for what’s to come once the elder begins to snap his hips and ruthlessly drills himself into Zitao. His fingernails dig into the tender flesh of his hips, and Zitao prays they leave bruises for him to find. Zitao can’t focus on that thought now, his mind clouded with lust and pleasure. He claws the bedsheets for purchase, trying to get ahold of anything as Joonmyun continues ram into him with swift, brutal thrusts. He can’t even utter a sound, the words trapped in his throat. This is everything Zitao wanted, and nothing he expected. In the midst of everything, Zitao nearly forgets his own arousal still trapped underneath the pink panties. He tries to reach between his legs for some sort of friction, but with the way Joonmyun fucks him hard and raw, he thinks it’s enough to let him cum untouched. In a weird, masochistic way, Zitao drops his hand and focuses on the garbled moans Joonmyun makes as the elder nears climax, his thrusts becoming erratic as he slowly gets closer to the edge. Soon, he’s painting Zitao’s walls with white and a satisfied sigh leaves his lips. This is all Zitao needs to shoot his own load, most of it soiling his panties. Joonmyun presses a kiss to Zitao’s lower back before he slumps over onto his side, trying to catch his breath. A dumb smile graces his face, and Zitao thinks that’s his favorite expression on Joonmyun.
“Would you like to get together again?” Joonmyun asks as he cleans them both up with Zitao’s flimsy tank top.
Zitao is way too tired to give Joonmyun a proper reply, simply reaching out lamely for Joonmyun to hold him. Joonmyun can wait until tomorrow and envelops the younger male in his embrace, tucking Zitao’s head under his chin.
“Goodnight, my dear.”
rating: NC-17
word count: 5.3k
warning(s): none.
summary: Zitao is tired of the monotony his life brings him, and Joonmyun is the perfect distraction.
author's note: I had loads of fun writing this fic, and I’d like to dedicate it to someone very dear to me! Also, a special thanks to a certain potato, my partner in crime.
Orginially posted at taobeis.
Zitao has better things to do than attend a dinner with his parents and one of his father’s business partners on a Saturday night. These sorts of affairs are always monotonous, filled with rapid conversations he can’t keep up with to save his life. His mother simply sits there by his father’s side, looking pretty and pretending she can understand what the men talk about. He wishes he could be more like her, but it’s hard to sit still for a few hours at a time because he’s a young man in his late teens. Instead of being cooped up in his own home, he should be outside partying until the sun is down. Most people his age will tell him to suck it up. Any of them would love to switch places with the boy who can afford to drive a Maserati around town. His peers are envious of the Huangs’ luxurious lifestyle, but little do they know that the price Zitao has to pay is his freedom.
Tonight is different, though. Mr. Huang usually brings home old farts for dinner, so when Zitao is introduced to a handsome gentleman named Kim Joonmyun, he knows the evening will be anything but boring. He isn’t averse to shaking Joonmyun’s hand, nor personally escorting him over to the dining room. The table is already set up for a three-course meal, and their guest takes the place of honor at the head of the table with Zitao’s parents to his right. Zitao sits down to Joonmyun’s left, delighted to get an up-close and personal view of one of his father’s business partners for the first time.
Once everyone is settled down, they’re served miniature crab cakes with a wedge of lemon on the side for extra zest. As if on cue, Mr. Huang launches into a spiel. Joonmyun takes it in stride, listening attentively and nodding in between bites of food. Zitao can’t even be bothered to touch his plate because all he craves is Joonmyun. Everything about this man screams exquisite, from the way he carries himself to the mole above his upper lip. It’s a good thing no one is paying Zitao any attention, or else they’d notice the hazy look in his eyes.
Zitao takes the opportunity to size Joonmyun up. He starts from the man’s left hand, trying to to detect the faintest traces of tan lines a wedding band would leave behind. All he finds are long, pretty fingers he’d love to suck on before they work him open. Next, his gaze sweeps over the elder’s impeccable profile. Zitao has the urge to pepper kisses all over Joonmyun’s jawline, working his way closer and closer to his lips, but never touching. He wants to hear the man beg, but deep inside he knows he’d love to be the one begging for Joonmyun to let him cum. With all the life experiences Joonmyun has had, he could teach Zitao a thing or two behind closed doors. The thought of letting Joonmyun do as he pleases to him is exciting.
“Zitao, tell Mr. Kim about your studies,” Mr. Huang cuts in, pulling Zitao back to reality.
The young man smiles bashfully at Joonmyun, unable to meet his eyes fully. Zitao’s never been nervous around the boys he’s liked, but then again, Joonmyun isn’t a boy. Joonmyun is a mature, wise, and breathtakingly beautiful man. Like fine wine, the passing of time has done wonders to the elder’s appearance. He’s still young compared to everyone else in the corporate world, but old enough to entice Zitao more than anyone his age ever could.
“I only started university a couple weeks back, but I work diligently in order to follow in my father’s footsteps. Under his guidance, I’m double-majoring in finance and international business,” Zitao shares, the lack of enthusiasm apparent in his voice. Mr. Huang shakes his head from across the table, but doesn’t say any more on the matter because this dinner is all about himself, as always.
“You must be working really hard. I hope your old man cuts you some slack from time to time because I know how much work it is to keep up in the Ivy Leagues,” Joonmyun sympathizes, and Zitao swears the elder was about to reach over for his hand. It’s the lighting, he tells himself, because Joonmyun would never allow himself to touch someone below him.
The first course is taken away and replaced with a salmon fillet covered in a wine-butter sauce over a bed of greens. The aroma has Zitao’s mouth watering, but he holds himself back from devouring the entire plate. He doesn’t want to leave Joonmyun with a bad impression.
Mr. Huang takes over the conversation once more, steering it back to stocks and bonds. Now that Joonmyun’s attention is directed elsewhere, Zitao can stare at the elder all he wants as he eats slowly. Joonmyun looks so dignified as he brings the fork up to his mouth, parting his lips for a bite of fish and humming in delight afterwards. Zitao wonders if Joonmyun would look just as happy if Zitao were to suck him off in the backseat of his car.
For the remainder of the dinner, no one says another word to Zitao. They seem to have forgotten him entirely. His father’s business will always come first, family second. Zitao doesn’t mind one bit, though, because he’s used to being ignored. And besides, the view from his seat makes up for everything.
“It was a pleasure having you as our guest tonight, Mr. Kim. If you’re not in a hurry, there a few things I’d like to discuss with you in private,” Mr. Huang announces after the parfait glasses are cleared from the table.
“I’m in no hurry at all. Please lead the way,” Joonmyun replies and dabs his lips with a linen napkin. He thanks Mrs. Huang and Zitao for allowing him to join them before he hurries after Mr. Huang out of the dining room.
Once Joonmyun is out of sight, Zitao slumps in his seat with a huff. He misses the elder already, even though they barely said a word to each other. His mother rounds the table and kisses him atop his head, advising her boy to not stay up too late. She takes her leave promptly, too. Zitao feels utterly alone, even with the butlers cleaning up the table and buzzing around him. He doesn’t have it in him to move just yet because his energy reserve has been used up to hold himself back from lunging across the table and ravishing Joonmyun.
“Sir, would you like a bath drawn?” one of the men ask him. A nice long soak sounds good right about now, but Zitao simply wants to go to bed and forget about tonight. The sooner slumber takes over, the sooner he can stop feeling like the immature boy Joonmyun probably sees in him.
“No, thanks,” Zitao replies softly and slinks over to his room on the second floor. He strips down to his underwear, leaving the rest of his clothes by the door. He slips into the bed and rests on his back. The darkness that consumes him brings forth a sense of comfort, something that money could never buy. Expensive massages and the world’s finest fabrics are nothing compared to the bliss that comes with the night. Flashbacks of dinner run through his head, every single detail about Joonmyun etched into his memory. He keeps thinking back to the moment when he swore Joonmyun was about to touch him. The elder may be small in stature, but his hands look like they could leave bruising prints all over Zitao in order to exert his dominance. Zitao would gladly submit.
Outside in the hallway, Zitao can hear footsteps and hushed whispers. It must be his father and Joonmyun because his father always takes guests to the study room two doors down for privacy. The young man is tempted to slip out of bed and bid their guest farewell, but he knows his father would only scold him for being obtrusive. He doesn’t know when he’ll ever see Joonmyun again, so he takes the risk and pads over to the door, cracking it open a bit. Joonmyun is all alone as he heads for the stairs, and Zitao peeks down the other end of the hallway, seeing his father return to the study. Once the coast is clear, Zitao follows behind Joonmyun from a safe distance. He tries to come up with a reason as to why he’s still awake so late in the night, in case Joonmyun catches him. The little game of cat and mouse goes nowhere. Joonmyun never glances over his shoulder, and Zitao is too scared to speak up.
Once Joonmyun reaches the front door, he finally turns around and smiles fondly at Zitao as if he had known the young man had been tailing him all along. With a hand gesture, he beckons for Zitao to come closer. Zitao is apprehensive because he feels like a deer caught in headlights.
“What’s with the hesitation? You weren’t shy earlier on when you undressed me with your eyes,” Joonmyun states, brows raised. It’s a blessing most of the house is asleep, or else Zitao would be more mortified than he already is if someone had overheard.
Zitao’s knees lock, refusing to let him move anywhere. His mind knows this is a dangerous game to play, but his dick is telling him otherwise. He leans against the nearest wall for support and avoids meeting Joonmyun’s gaze. Following the elder was a bad idea from the beginning, thinking he had a chance with someone so sophisticated was even worse.
“I-I don’t know… what you’re t-talking about!” Zitao sputters and then shouts when Joonmyun walks over to him, looking calm, cool, and collected.
“Oh, but I remember how much you had to hold yourself back during dinner. I must admit, I almost slipped up, too.” Joonmyun cocks his head to the side, smirking like the devil himself. He places a hand on Zitao’s hip, reminding the latter that he is wearing very little clothing.
Zitao hates himself for having no self-control because he’s already half-hard in his underpants. All Joonmyun had to do was touch him once, embarrassingly enough. He doesn’t want to know what a kiss would do, but the temptation is there. If he were to lean forward just a little bit, their mouths would meet in sin.
“Someone might walk in on us,” Zitao mutters, not thinking about the implications of his words.
“Would you like to walk me to my car?” Joonmyun asks without pause, and Zitao nods dumbly because his dick is on auto-pilot.
Joonmyun slides his hand towards Zitao’s back, resting it dangerously close to the swell of his ass. He urges the boy forward gently and makes small talk on their way out. The front door is left open behind them because he doesn’t want Zitao to have to explain why he was locked out in only his underwear.
The pair head over to a jet-black Rolls-Royce parked in front of the estate, and the cool cobblestone beneath Zitao’s feet doesn’t register with him because his entire body is on fire. Joonmyun warms him up in the best and worst ways.
Once they approach the vehicle, Joonmyun pushes Zitao up against the driver’s side door. Zitao wants to complain about the pain in his left shoulder, but Joonmyun silences his protests with his mouth. Zitao forgets about how uncomfortable he is as his lips move in sync perfectly with Joonmyun’s, as if they were destined to meet. He wraps his arms around Joonmyun’s neck to bring him in closer, to bury himself deeper. It’s dizzying, the way Joonmyun kisses him eagerly and worries Zitao’s bottom lip between his teeth, darting his tongue out to swipe away the pain. Zitao wants more, parting his lips to allow Joonmyun in. The first time their tongues touch is utter bliss. He gets lost in the haze, a little too overwhelmed by the sudden change in gears. It’s a good thing Joonmyun doesn’t push him too far, taking his time licking into Zitao’s mouth and exploring every crevice. Zitao groans because he’s reminded of how painstakingly hard he is right now, and he tries to rut against Joonmyun’s thigh but then the elder is already pulling back for air. He chases after Joonmyun’s mouth, needier than ever to close off the distance between them. Joonmyun laughs and shakes his head, leaning forward to press a kiss to the corner of Zitao’s mouth. The disappointment that washes over the young man’s face must have some sort of effect on the other because he takes Zitao’s hand and squeezes it gently, then kisses the tips of his fingers.
“Don’t look so sad, my dear. I would love to have my way with you now, but I must go,” Joonmyun laments, offering a wistful smile.
Zitao thinks twice about throwing a fit, lest he wants to prove to Joonmyun that the past several minutes were a mistake. He grumbles under his breath instead, burying his face in the crook of Joonmyun’s neck. “I really want to see you again.”
Joonmyun hums in approval. “I’m happy to hear you say that, but I’m not sure when I’ll be free again.”
“Why can’t you come back tomorrow and lie to my father that you’re prepared to invest in his stupid business venture?” Zitao whines and clutches onto the back of Joonmyun’s suit jacket.
“Because my career is not a game. I need to take things seriously when it comes to potential business partners,” Joonmyun informs and detaches himself from Zitao, who fights to hold on for as long as he can. “I love your eagerness, but we’re both mature enough to realize patience is truly a virtue.”
Zitao drops his hands to his side, feeling defeated. He wedges himself out from between the car and Joonmyun, and starts for the house.
“Don’t act like this…,” Joonmyun says as he follows after the younger male, reaching out for his hand and stopping him in his tracks.
Zitao shakes his head and tries to writhe himself free. “Let go of me,” he whispers, pleading because he doesn’t want Joonmyun to see him cry. It’s already embarrassing enough that he’s gotten upset over something so small. There’s no need to make matters worse with his tears.
“If I do, you’re just going to stalk off and be mad at me. I don’t want to end things on a bad note,” Joonmyun explains and pulls Zitao flush against his chest. He entraps Zitao in his arms, but makes sure his grasp is loose enough if the boy decides this is too much for him.
Zitao grumbles under his breath and rests limply in Joonmyun’s embrace. The elder had implied this was nothing but a game to him. He doesn’t like the fact that Joonmyun really does view him as a child and a conquest, and it hurts like hell. There may be several years between them, but it doesn’t mean that Zitao can’t be mature for his age.
“Tell me what’s wrong, my dear,” Joonmyun murmurs into his ear, carding his fingers through Zitao’s hair.
Out of his own stubbornness, Zitao stays mum for several moments and simply enjoys the feeling of Joonmyun trying to placate him. He would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t like being babied like this. It’s confusing because on one hand wants to be seen as Joonmyun’s equal and on the other hand, he wants Joonmyun to take care of him. He can’t have it both ways.
“I’m just upset because I don’t know when I’ll see you again,” Zitao finally replies. It’s not a lie if he’s giving Joonmyun half the truth.
“I’ll try to make room for you as soon as possible, okay? Perhaps next week at the latest. How does that sound?” Joonmyun suggests, pulling back enough to assess Zitao’s face.
Zitao is glad the lighting outside is dim, hiding the flush of his cheeks. The way Joonmyun looks at him so intently is nerve-wracking. “Y-Yeah, that sounds good to me.”
Joonmyun grins and pecks Zitao on the lips for good measure. “I’m glad we have come to an agreement. Now behave on your way back to your room. I don’t want to arouse any suspicions,” he warns lightly.
Zitao nods dumbly before Joonmyun lets him go, and he walks back inside of the house in a daze. His mind is slow to process what has just happened. He’s afraid to pinch himself because he’s not fully prepared to accept the possibility this was all a dream. When he hears an engine come to life, he glances over his shoulder to see Joonmyun drive off. Reality or not, the bitter cold night air is no joke. He closes the front door behind him and pads up the stairs quietly, sneaking into his room without anyone catching him.
Once again, Zitao is all alone. This time, he feels warm and fuzzy inside. His chest can barely contain his erratic heartbeats, thumping heavily against his rib cage. He rolls onto his back to help himself calm down, but then he hears paper crinkling. He reaches into his underpants from the backside to find a note tucked into the waistband. What a sneaky bastard.
We’ll meet again very soon. Just you wait, my dear.
Very soon turns out to be two days after the dinner.
Zitao wakes up to a pretty red envelope with his name on it, sitting on his nightstand, and he reaches over to tear it open. Inside rests a card key to one of the city’s upscale hotels and a time scrawled onto the back with permanent marker. Zitao’s hands are shaking as he stares down at the piece of plastic. He knows what this means, and his heart kicks back into overdrive. He climbs out of bed to start his search for the perfect outfit. It’s only nine am, but god knows he’ll take forever deciding if leopard print panties will clash with his skintight leather pants.
Time passes by quickly as Zitao delves into his walk-in closet, throwing clothes all over the floor and tearing the walls down for his favorite sneakers. In the midst of the natural disaster he’s caused, he decided on a simple ensemble because he’s only going to strip down naked the moment he sees Joonmyun. He doesn’t forgo the idea of cute panties, though. It’s going to be a nice surprise for the elder.
The sun sets over the horizon by the time Zitao has finally thrown on the skimpiest tank top he could find, ripped skinny jeans, and bright pink lace panties with a bow on the front. He hopes Joonmyun finds him absolutely delectable. In order to avoid any suspicion, Zitao lies to his mother about going to a club in the downtown area and takes the bus to the hotel. As much as he hates the unsanitary seats and disgusting people public transportation brings, he doesn’t want to risk taking his Maserati anywhere. He is pretty sure his old man had the car microchipped to keep tabs on him at all times.
Zitao looks completely out of place in the hotel lobby once he arrives. The immaculate marble floors, tall columns that hold up the dome covered in cherubs and angels, and leather seating clash with his threadbare attire. He’s a homeless hooker in the eyes of the concierge, bell boys, and other guests. Despite their leering looks, he knows he’s better than all of them and heads for the elevators with his head held high. An elderly woman who enters the same car as him keeps to the emergency button, as if Zitao is interested in robbing her of her slobbering shih tzu.
Zitao smiles wryly at the woman as he passes by her to get off at the 11th floor. The hallways are empty, and the red carpeting beneath his feet help muffle his footsteps on his way to room 1107. He slides the card key into the slot, the green light comes on. Once he steps past the threshold, there is no going back. He inhales a shaky breath, calming his nerves and turning the door handle.
The room is dimly lit with only the desk lamp on. Joonmyun sits on the loveseat with his legs crossed, newspaper in hand. He peeks over towards the door and a smile creeps onto his face. He beckons for Zitao to come forward, to take a seat next to him.
"Newspaper, huh? I thought I was here to meet a young bachelor, not my grandpa," Zitao kids by the door as he toes off his shoes.
"You laugh, but I'm not the one losing precious brain cells here," Joonmyun counters as he folds up his newspaper and places it on the table. "Now, would you like something to drink before we start?"
Zitao shakes his head as he steps over to Joonmyun, dropping to his knees in front of him and prying his legs apart. He’s thirsty for something else entirely, and there are only two layers of clothing in his way. When Joonmyun doesn’t stop him, Zitao takes it as a sign to continue on. He unbuckles the elder’s belt with deft fingers, tugging down his pants and boxers once the opportunity presents itself. Zitao licks his lips at the sight of Joonmyun’s thick cock. For such a small man, the elder is well-endowed, and Zitao is delighted he has the pleasure to play with it. Unabashedly, Zitao wraps his fingers around the base and leans forward to give the crown a kitten lick. The soft whimper he elicits from Joonmyun drives Zitao to wrap his lips around him, suckling gently. He’s pleased to hear the elder slowly come undone and teases him a little more, licking stripes along the shaft until Joonmyun tugs on his hair. Zitao chuckles under his breath and grins innocently up at the man. He maintains eye contact with Joonmyun as he takes as much of his cock into his mouth as he can. Joonmyun is heavy on his tongue, and Zitao loves the feeling of his lips stretched wide around Joonmyun’s girth. Zitao is eager to please him, hollowing out his cheeks and sucking like his life depended on it.
Filthy words spill out of Joonmyun’s mouth in between heavy breaths, music to Zitao’s ears. He continues to reverently bob his head, pulling back once in awhile when his lips grow tired and digs his tongue into the slit to hear Joonmyun choke out broken moans. It feels so surreal gagging himself with Joonmyun’s dick, but Zitao will make the most of it. He’ll never allow himself to forget how musky Joonmyun smells and the bittersweetness of his precum.
Eventually, Joonmyun drags Zitao off his cock by his hair before he can cum. His face is red and breathing haggard. Zitao presumes he looks just as good as he wipes away the saliva from the corners of his mouth.
“G-Get on the bed,” Joonmyun commands, loosening his own tie and discarding it on the floor.
Zitao doesn’t need to be asked twice, and he scampers over to the bed. He’s unsure of how Joonmyun would like him, so he sits at the head of the bed, watching Joonmyun strip down to his natural state. It would be hard for anyone to tell that beneath the stuffy suit and dress shirt, Joonmyun is all lean muscle. Zitao hates how Joonmyun takes his time folding folding his clothes and placing them on the loveseat neatly. It feels an eternity has passed before he walks over to the foot of the bed, dragging Zitao down by his ankles until he’s flat on his back. Joonmyun climbs on top of him, a sly grin playing at his lips.
“I wish you had dressed like this the other night,” Joonmyun muses, fingering the flimsy fabric of Zitao’s tank top.
“If only I had known my father was going to bring home someone so handsome.” Zitao smiles up at Joonmyun as he rests a hand on the elder’s bicep, sliding his hand up to cup the back of his neck. He guides Joonmyun down for a fervent kiss, having missed him during the short period they were apart. Their kiss is sloppy, a clash of tongues and teeth. Hands are all over the place, exploring each other’s bodies. Joonmyun feels sturdy beneath Zitao’s fingertips, and he likes how smoothly his fingers glide across the elder’s chest, abdomen, and back. They part for a second only to discard Zitao of his shirt and it’s back to the carnal dance between their mouths. This is nothing like their first kiss where it was slow and experimental. Zitao doesn’t mind it either way because all he cares about is being close with Joonmyun.
Joonmyun leaves a lingering kiss on Zitao’s lips before he moves onto the younger male’s neck, sucking angry red marks into the tender flesh. Zitao can’t wait to look into a mirror to admire Joonmyun’s handiwork. He can tell Joonmyun is biding his time as he works his way down to Zitao’s chest, and Zitao is starting to get impatient. As much as he likes how Joonmyun’s tongue works wonders teasing his nipples, he just wants Joonmyun to tear these pants off and fuck him already. Joonmyun continues to take the slow road, tugging on the pink nubs with his teeth and flicking his tongue over them to soothe the pain. It’s a bittersweet torture that has Zitao muttering profanities under his breath as he tugs on the elder’s hair to urge him to move faster. If it’s even possible, he swears he feels Joonmyun smirking against his skin.
“You’re killing me,” Zitao groans, lifting his knee to nudge at Joonmyun’s erection. It garners the reaction he is looking for because Joonmyun lifts his head up and fumbles with the button of Zitao’s pants. When it’s time to shimmy out of them, Joonmyun is all wide-eyed. Until now, Zitao had completely forgotten about his little surprise. He feels shy all of a sudden and tries to cover up when his pants are shucked off to the side.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Zitao mutters.
Joonmyun shakes his head and pries the younger male’s hands away from his crotch. He traces the outline of Zitao’s cock with his forefinger, and Zitao hisses. The lacey material is uncomfortable against his straining erection, but Joonmyun doesn’t look like he wants to get rid of the panties any time soon.
“For me? You shouldn’t have,” Joonmyun says in a low voice and gives Zitao’s inner thigh a peck before he gets out of bed. Zitao is confused for a moment, wondering if he has done something wrong and then Joonmyun returns with a bottle of lube. It’s strange how Zitao’s heart speeds up at the sight.
“On all fours. Please.”
Zitao should be embarrassed by how fast he flips over onto his hands his knees like a desperate whore. He hopes the perfect view of his ass urges Joonmyun to nix the slow speed and pound into him like there’s no tomorrow.
Joonmyun seems to be under his spell when he pulls aside the panties to find what he’s looking for. He uncaps the lube, drizzling a generous amount onto his fingertips and spreads Zitao’s ass cheeks apart. Out of pure fascination, he probes his entrance to see how Zitao will react and the younger male lets out a soft whine, wiggling his ass a little.
“Fuck me with your fingers now before I do -” Zitao doesn’t get to finish spewing out his threat before he feels the first slick finger go in. It catches him off-guard, but doesn’t stop him from pushing back. Joonmyun stills him with a hand firmly planted on his hip, and slowly pumps his finger in and out of Zitao, allowing the boy to get accustomed to the foreign intrusion. It’s not like this is Zitao’s first rodeo, so he’s already crying out for more and Joonmyun concedes to his whims. Zitao loves the feeling of Joonmyun working him open and whines softly. The elder likes watching his fingers cause Zitao so much raw bliss, reminding him of his own arousal. Once Zitao swears he’s ready to have his brains fucked out of him, Joonmyun aligns his dick with Zitao’s hole and enters without warning. Zitao thinks it’s a dirty move, but who is he to talk when he’s the one begging to be used?
Just like with everything else Joonmyun does, he’s slow and he thrusts lazily into Zitao, which is rather maddening. There’s nothing Zitao wants more than to feel his ass tear in two because of Joonmyun’s cock, but that’s not going to happen if Joonmyun treats him like a porcelain doll. Zitao can’t do much, though, with Joonmyun’s hands still firmly gripping his hips. He buries his face into the pillow out of frustration, muffling a mix moans and groans - mostly the latter.
“If you never tell me, my dear, I’ll never know what you want,” Joonmyun says in all seriousness, but Zitao can sense a teasing undertone. Zitao turns his head to look over at the elder and hesitates for a moment because it’s kind of hot watching Joonmyun rocking his hips slowly against Zitao’s ass, as if they were an established couple making love. How cute. That’s not what Zitao signed up for, though. They can save the sappy sex for later.
“I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk anymore,” Zitao begs, and he never begs. He has too much pride due to his position on the social hierarchy, but Joonmyun changes everything. With Joonmyun, Zitao is simply a slut for Joonmyun’s cock and will do just about anything for it.
Joonmyun gives Zitao’s ass a gentle squeeze, a useless warning for what’s to come once the elder begins to snap his hips and ruthlessly drills himself into Zitao. His fingernails dig into the tender flesh of his hips, and Zitao prays they leave bruises for him to find. Zitao can’t focus on that thought now, his mind clouded with lust and pleasure. He claws the bedsheets for purchase, trying to get ahold of anything as Joonmyun continues ram into him with swift, brutal thrusts. He can’t even utter a sound, the words trapped in his throat. This is everything Zitao wanted, and nothing he expected. In the midst of everything, Zitao nearly forgets his own arousal still trapped underneath the pink panties. He tries to reach between his legs for some sort of friction, but with the way Joonmyun fucks him hard and raw, he thinks it’s enough to let him cum untouched. In a weird, masochistic way, Zitao drops his hand and focuses on the garbled moans Joonmyun makes as the elder nears climax, his thrusts becoming erratic as he slowly gets closer to the edge. Soon, he’s painting Zitao’s walls with white and a satisfied sigh leaves his lips. This is all Zitao needs to shoot his own load, most of it soiling his panties. Joonmyun presses a kiss to Zitao’s lower back before he slumps over onto his side, trying to catch his breath. A dumb smile graces his face, and Zitao thinks that’s his favorite expression on Joonmyun.
“Would you like to get together again?” Joonmyun asks as he cleans them both up with Zitao’s flimsy tank top.
Zitao is way too tired to give Joonmyun a proper reply, simply reaching out lamely for Joonmyun to hold him. Joonmyun can wait until tomorrow and envelops the younger male in his embrace, tucking Zitao’s head under his chin.
“Goodnight, my dear.”