these hands that burn
these hands that burn
Luhan/Zitao
967 words | R
the way zitao touches his neck reminds luhan of nights with those hands holding him down
a/n: written for this prompt
these hands that burn
Joonmyun moves towards him beaming and Sehun’s eyes are crinkled with happiness as he reaches for Luhan, but it’s Zitao who gets there first, one hand curled around the back of his neck and another at his hip.
“Congratulations,” Zitao says, hot breath against the shell of Luhan’s ear and his thumb traces a half circle behind Luhan’s ear. “Xiao Lu.”
Luhan glances at him sharply, but the other is all smiles and innocent pats on his back. Luhan leans into Baekhyun’s side hug, grounding himself in the simplicity of the gesture and he doesn’t let Zitao come close enough to touch again for the rest of the event.
“Our little deer did so well today,” Minseok says teasingly, but his tone and expression holds only fondness as he nudges Luhan on the couch.
“Yeah, he runs pretty fast for such a skinny kid,” Wufan chuckles and gets hit in the face by a cushion for his troubles.
“At least I can outrun you any day, you uncoordinated beanpole,” Luhan throws back, laughter caught in his throat when large warm hands settle on his shoulders. He almost doesn’t catch the cushion Wufan aimed at his face and he chooses to focus on their impromptu pillow fight rather than acknowledge the figure now digging the palm of his hands into Luhan’s tense muscles.
“Hyung can’t beat me though,” Zitao injects, tone heavy with meaning and he squeezes hard enough to hurt a little, the strength in his hands alone telling of his dominance. Luhan rolls his shoulder back and throws his legs over Minseok; a silent challenge.
Fingers smooth over his collarbones in sweeping movements and Zitao’s finger presses into the hollow of his throat each time and Luhan finds his breath catching. “I’m older so I get to order you around, dongsaeng.”
A hum of agreement and nails scrape against Luhan’s nape, long fingers running through his hair before
Zitao grabs a handful and yanks. The whimper escapes before Luhan can stop it and just like that the hands on him disappear. “I’d like to see you try, Luhan hyung.”
He walks off to his room and Luhan stays in the lounge room chatting with Minseok and Wufan for as long as he can stand, until the ache and promise of what awaits becomes too much and he excuses himself.
He can hear Zitao pacing even in the hallway and he’s barely halfway in the room before he’s yanked inside and those hands are back in his hair, tugging his head back so Zitao can kiss him properly, open mouthed and hungry.
Luhan breaks away, breathing hard and pulling impatiently at Zitao’s t-shirt, hissing as the other foregoes removing Luhan’s shirt to slide a hand down the back of his sweatpants instead.
“Fuck, Zitao,” he hisses as his ass is thoroughly felt up and pushes himself up so that he’s got his legs around Zitao’s waist. Luhan digs his fingers into the solid expanse of Zitao’s shoulders and rolls his hip repeatedly until the younger man growls and walks them forward until Luhan’s back hits the wall. They kiss hard and deep, Luhan pulling away to sneak in swipes of tongue against Zitao’s piercings, sucking the metal into his mouth and soft tugs of the studs with his teeth, until Zitao buckles and he nearly drops Luhan.
He grins triumphantly, eyes dancing mirthfully as he gazes up at the taller man. “Having stamina problems, maknae?”
The grin is replaced quickly enough by gasps as Zitao flips him over and presses him hard up against the wall, hips rutting forward and one hand pinning both of Luhan’s wrist above their heads. He keens into Zitao’s mouth when his pants are tugged down and calloused fingers wrap around him, strokes and half twists that has Luhan thrusting into Zitao’s hand. Legs on either side of his own block him in, giving him no room to move and combined with the hands and mouth and the hardness hot against his ass, Luhan is hopelessly surrounded by everything Zitao.
“Still worried about my stamina, Luhan?” the younger man murmurs against his neck. “Or maybe you should be the one worrying?”
Luhan bares his teeth. “The only thing I’m worried about is fucking someone who thinks he’s a man when really he’s just a boy.”
Zitao swings him around so fast Luhan is worried they’ll break something and the air goes out of his lungs when he lands hard on the bed. He barely has to catch his breath before Zitao is crawling on top of him, naked, pissed off and very much turned on.
“Is that any way to treat your elders, you brat,” he bites out even as the younger pins him down and fingers slip between his legs.
“It’s time to shut up and let me fuck you,” Zitao whispers right in his ear like he had earlier in the stadium, only now he’s got Luhan bucking for more at the stretch and wet slide of fingers. “Now try not to let the whole band know that you’re utterly at my mercy…Xiao Lu.”
Luhan growls as Zitao holds his hips down and works him open until he’s writhing in the sheets and murmuring incoherent pleas before finally pulling his legs up and pushing into him. Later, the younger man will run gentle fingers over the faint bruises as they curl up in bed, soft kisses peppered along his skin, but that comes later when they are sleepy and lethargic from the pleasure.
Right now though, the night is young and Zitao is unrelenting; Luhan spread out and trembling beneath him as he fucks the older man with a hand gripping his thigh and the other loose around his neck, a reminder of this night for many days to come.
Luhan/Zitao
967 words | R
the way zitao touches his neck reminds luhan of nights with those hands holding him down
a/n: written for this prompt
these hands that burn
Joonmyun moves towards him beaming and Sehun’s eyes are crinkled with happiness as he reaches for Luhan, but it’s Zitao who gets there first, one hand curled around the back of his neck and another at his hip.
“Congratulations,” Zitao says, hot breath against the shell of Luhan’s ear and his thumb traces a half circle behind Luhan’s ear. “Xiao Lu.”
Luhan glances at him sharply, but the other is all smiles and innocent pats on his back. Luhan leans into Baekhyun’s side hug, grounding himself in the simplicity of the gesture and he doesn’t let Zitao come close enough to touch again for the rest of the event.
“Our little deer did so well today,” Minseok says teasingly, but his tone and expression holds only fondness as he nudges Luhan on the couch.
“Yeah, he runs pretty fast for such a skinny kid,” Wufan chuckles and gets hit in the face by a cushion for his troubles.
“At least I can outrun you any day, you uncoordinated beanpole,” Luhan throws back, laughter caught in his throat when large warm hands settle on his shoulders. He almost doesn’t catch the cushion Wufan aimed at his face and he chooses to focus on their impromptu pillow fight rather than acknowledge the figure now digging the palm of his hands into Luhan’s tense muscles.
“Hyung can’t beat me though,” Zitao injects, tone heavy with meaning and he squeezes hard enough to hurt a little, the strength in his hands alone telling of his dominance. Luhan rolls his shoulder back and throws his legs over Minseok; a silent challenge.
Fingers smooth over his collarbones in sweeping movements and Zitao’s finger presses into the hollow of his throat each time and Luhan finds his breath catching. “I’m older so I get to order you around, dongsaeng.”
A hum of agreement and nails scrape against Luhan’s nape, long fingers running through his hair before
Zitao grabs a handful and yanks. The whimper escapes before Luhan can stop it and just like that the hands on him disappear. “I’d like to see you try, Luhan hyung.”
He walks off to his room and Luhan stays in the lounge room chatting with Minseok and Wufan for as long as he can stand, until the ache and promise of what awaits becomes too much and he excuses himself.
He can hear Zitao pacing even in the hallway and he’s barely halfway in the room before he’s yanked inside and those hands are back in his hair, tugging his head back so Zitao can kiss him properly, open mouthed and hungry.
Luhan breaks away, breathing hard and pulling impatiently at Zitao’s t-shirt, hissing as the other foregoes removing Luhan’s shirt to slide a hand down the back of his sweatpants instead.
“Fuck, Zitao,” he hisses as his ass is thoroughly felt up and pushes himself up so that he’s got his legs around Zitao’s waist. Luhan digs his fingers into the solid expanse of Zitao’s shoulders and rolls his hip repeatedly until the younger man growls and walks them forward until Luhan’s back hits the wall. They kiss hard and deep, Luhan pulling away to sneak in swipes of tongue against Zitao’s piercings, sucking the metal into his mouth and soft tugs of the studs with his teeth, until Zitao buckles and he nearly drops Luhan.
He grins triumphantly, eyes dancing mirthfully as he gazes up at the taller man. “Having stamina problems, maknae?”
The grin is replaced quickly enough by gasps as Zitao flips him over and presses him hard up against the wall, hips rutting forward and one hand pinning both of Luhan’s wrist above their heads. He keens into Zitao’s mouth when his pants are tugged down and calloused fingers wrap around him, strokes and half twists that has Luhan thrusting into Zitao’s hand. Legs on either side of his own block him in, giving him no room to move and combined with the hands and mouth and the hardness hot against his ass, Luhan is hopelessly surrounded by everything Zitao.
“Still worried about my stamina, Luhan?” the younger man murmurs against his neck. “Or maybe you should be the one worrying?”
Luhan bares his teeth. “The only thing I’m worried about is fucking someone who thinks he’s a man when really he’s just a boy.”
Zitao swings him around so fast Luhan is worried they’ll break something and the air goes out of his lungs when he lands hard on the bed. He barely has to catch his breath before Zitao is crawling on top of him, naked, pissed off and very much turned on.
“Is that any way to treat your elders, you brat,” he bites out even as the younger pins him down and fingers slip between his legs.
“It’s time to shut up and let me fuck you,” Zitao whispers right in his ear like he had earlier in the stadium, only now he’s got Luhan bucking for more at the stretch and wet slide of fingers. “Now try not to let the whole band know that you’re utterly at my mercy…Xiao Lu.”
Luhan growls as Zitao holds his hips down and works him open until he’s writhing in the sheets and murmuring incoherent pleas before finally pulling his legs up and pushing into him. Later, the younger man will run gentle fingers over the faint bruises as they curl up in bed, soft kisses peppered along his skin, but that comes later when they are sleepy and lethargic from the pleasure.
Right now though, the night is young and Zitao is unrelenting; Luhan spread out and trembling beneath him as he fucks the older man with a hand gripping his thigh and the other loose around his neck, a reminder of this night for many days to come.