✧ take it slow ✧
✖ take it slow
✖ zitao/sehun; pg-13
✖ zitao brushes the hair aside, pulling sehun in for a hug. “i promised we’d go slow." 1104w.
Sehun shuffles into Zitao’s room, eyes fixed on the heels of Zitao’s socked feet. He’s trying very hard not to watch the flex of muscle in Zitao’s calves, lower lip caught between his teeth.
This is new. Zitao doesn’t usually like bringing Sehun over to his place, and Sehun thinks he knows why, what with the way Zitao avoids talking about his father on most occasions. Except nobody’s home right now and Sehun’s trying to absorb his surroundings, imaging Zitao within the walls of his house, going about his daily routine.
"Did you still wanna watch a movie?" Zitao asks, glancing over his shoulder at Sehun. He nods, throat suddenly tightening as he stares at Zitao’s bed. The room’s a bit of a mess, but it looks better than Sehun’s own. Kung fu movie posters line the walls and Sehun’s maybe seen like two of these, with Zitao and Jongin, crammed into his small bed.
But Jongin isn’t here today because Jongin isn’t Zitao’s boyfriend, Sehun is and his stomach still twists sharply at the thought, nerves getting the better of him. The giddy high that had lasted over the first two weeks as waned into something manageable but this new anxiousness makes Sehun feel like throwing up.
You won’t disappoint me, Zitao had told him, carefully enunciated and Sehun had nodded then, unable to get the frog out of this throat to say something more helpful.
He’s not even sure what it is he’s so terrified about, but Sehun’s only been in Zitao’s room once before and Jongin had been there to break the ice, making stupid comments about Zitao’s obvious obsession with leopard print. Sehun had only snorted at the curtains.
"You okay?" Zitao asks. He’s tossed off his hoodie, black tank top underneath baring his arms and Sehun’s breath is caught in his chest, eyes glancing down at Zitao’s toned biceps before looking up to meet Zitao’s worried gaze.
"Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?" Sehun smiles, or tries to smile but he’s not really sure how the strained expression looks on his face.
Zitao looks at him, a strange calculating expression before he takes a step toward Sehun. The door is still open behind him and Sehun wonders if Zitao will close it, if he’ll push Sehun up against it like he’s imagined him doing before. But the way his heart slows down, each beat like an echo through his head, throbbing against the muscle of his throat, makes him want to take a step back. He doesn’t.
Zitao reaches for his hand, lacing his fingers through Sehun’s and smiles. It’s quiet, the kind of smile Zitao reserves for when he’s feeling relieved or reminiscing about China. Sehun’s never gotten the smile before. His heart picks up.
"We don’t have to hang out here, you know," Zitao offers but Sehun shakes his head, hair falling into his eyes and he kinda wishes he’d worn his snapback like he’d intended. It was in his backpack, his backpack that was in the backseat of Zitao’s Lexus IS.
Zitao brushes the hair aside, pulling Sehun in for a hug. “I promised we’d go slow."
"I know," Sehun mumbles into Zitao’s shoulder. The thing is that Sehun doesn’t know if that’s what he wants; if he wants slower or faster and what if Zitao decides he doesn’t want this, doesn’t want Sehun as his boyfriend, while he flutters between the two.
Sehun lets his fingers curl into the thin material of Zitao’s tank top, pressing closer and Zitao’s skin is so hot, heat radiating through his tank top and through Sehun’s t-shirt. Sehun can smell the sweat off of him and he’s done this before, breathed in Zitao’s expensive cologne and sweat and willed his erection down.
"Okay?" Zitao asks, fingers curling into Sehun’s hair and stroking down his neck. Sehun likes it, likes that Zitao is always so affectionate, and he takes in another breath, body relaxing as Zitao holds him. His heart’s settled down a little, butterflies settling in the pit of his belly.
"Yeah," Sehun replies, pulling away from Zitao just slightly. His face feels hot and he doesn’t want to see the indulgent look on Zitao’s face, as if Sehun were some kid to fawn over.
But Zitao’s thumb strokes along Sehun’s jaw until he looks up, surprised by the soft kiss Zitao presses against his lips. It’s only their third and last time Sehun had maybe, sort of freaked out but that was really only because they’d been in the school’s parking lot. What if someone had seen?
This time, however, they’re not in the school parking lot or in the park at midnight, when Zitao had leaned in and stolen Sehun’s first kiss and swallowed all his stumbling confessions with it. This time they’re in Zitao’s room and Sehun does want this, wants to kiss Zitao over and over and over again. He wants to fill himself up until the hunger clawing inside of him is satisfied.
He kisses back, maybe a little more aggressively than he intended, the surprised laughter from Zitao curling in his gut but Sehun’s not going to back down now. Not when it’s just them and Zitao’s bed is right there. He opens his mouth a little, tentatively swipes his tongue out against Zitao’s lips, stumbling when Zitao’s grip around his waist tightens. He tugs Sehun closer, as if there were any space between them, shuffling towards his bed as he licks into Sehun’s mouth.
They end up on the bed, Sehun pressed against Zitao’s sheets and there’s something digging into his back but Sehun’s not going to spare anything but Zitao’s mouth any attention right now. Not when Zitao is nibbling at his lower lip, tongue lapping at the bites when he pulls back. He tries to catch Zitao’s upper lip in his mouth, but Zitao presses against Sehun’s mouth harder until Sehun can feel Zitao’s tongue against his own, a moan rippling out of him as his arms twist around Zitao’s neck.
Making out with Zitao has been so far up on Sehun’s list of fantasies that the actualization of it is making his heart squeeze tighter in his chest, an almost painful compressing and he can’t help the way he whines underneath Zitao.
Zitao seems to like it, settling into a pace that’s less aggressive, slowing down and Sehun’s cock is hard but he already feels dizzy, doesn’t think he’s ready to go that far just yet.
Zitao had already promised to go slow and maybe that was alright with Sehun for the time being. Making out was pretty fucking fantastic.
✖ zitao/sehun; pg-13
✖ zitao brushes the hair aside, pulling sehun in for a hug. “i promised we’d go slow." 1104w.
Sehun shuffles into Zitao’s room, eyes fixed on the heels of Zitao’s socked feet. He’s trying very hard not to watch the flex of muscle in Zitao’s calves, lower lip caught between his teeth.
This is new. Zitao doesn’t usually like bringing Sehun over to his place, and Sehun thinks he knows why, what with the way Zitao avoids talking about his father on most occasions. Except nobody’s home right now and Sehun’s trying to absorb his surroundings, imaging Zitao within the walls of his house, going about his daily routine.
"Did you still wanna watch a movie?" Zitao asks, glancing over his shoulder at Sehun. He nods, throat suddenly tightening as he stares at Zitao’s bed. The room’s a bit of a mess, but it looks better than Sehun’s own. Kung fu movie posters line the walls and Sehun’s maybe seen like two of these, with Zitao and Jongin, crammed into his small bed.
But Jongin isn’t here today because Jongin isn’t Zitao’s boyfriend, Sehun is and his stomach still twists sharply at the thought, nerves getting the better of him. The giddy high that had lasted over the first two weeks as waned into something manageable but this new anxiousness makes Sehun feel like throwing up.
You won’t disappoint me, Zitao had told him, carefully enunciated and Sehun had nodded then, unable to get the frog out of this throat to say something more helpful.
He’s not even sure what it is he’s so terrified about, but Sehun’s only been in Zitao’s room once before and Jongin had been there to break the ice, making stupid comments about Zitao’s obvious obsession with leopard print. Sehun had only snorted at the curtains.
"You okay?" Zitao asks. He’s tossed off his hoodie, black tank top underneath baring his arms and Sehun’s breath is caught in his chest, eyes glancing down at Zitao’s toned biceps before looking up to meet Zitao’s worried gaze.
"Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?" Sehun smiles, or tries to smile but he’s not really sure how the strained expression looks on his face.
Zitao looks at him, a strange calculating expression before he takes a step toward Sehun. The door is still open behind him and Sehun wonders if Zitao will close it, if he’ll push Sehun up against it like he’s imagined him doing before. But the way his heart slows down, each beat like an echo through his head, throbbing against the muscle of his throat, makes him want to take a step back. He doesn’t.
Zitao reaches for his hand, lacing his fingers through Sehun’s and smiles. It’s quiet, the kind of smile Zitao reserves for when he’s feeling relieved or reminiscing about China. Sehun’s never gotten the smile before. His heart picks up.
"We don’t have to hang out here, you know," Zitao offers but Sehun shakes his head, hair falling into his eyes and he kinda wishes he’d worn his snapback like he’d intended. It was in his backpack, his backpack that was in the backseat of Zitao’s Lexus IS.
Zitao brushes the hair aside, pulling Sehun in for a hug. “I promised we’d go slow."
"I know," Sehun mumbles into Zitao’s shoulder. The thing is that Sehun doesn’t know if that’s what he wants; if he wants slower or faster and what if Zitao decides he doesn’t want this, doesn’t want Sehun as his boyfriend, while he flutters between the two.
Sehun lets his fingers curl into the thin material of Zitao’s tank top, pressing closer and Zitao’s skin is so hot, heat radiating through his tank top and through Sehun’s t-shirt. Sehun can smell the sweat off of him and he’s done this before, breathed in Zitao’s expensive cologne and sweat and willed his erection down.
"Okay?" Zitao asks, fingers curling into Sehun’s hair and stroking down his neck. Sehun likes it, likes that Zitao is always so affectionate, and he takes in another breath, body relaxing as Zitao holds him. His heart’s settled down a little, butterflies settling in the pit of his belly.
"Yeah," Sehun replies, pulling away from Zitao just slightly. His face feels hot and he doesn’t want to see the indulgent look on Zitao’s face, as if Sehun were some kid to fawn over.
But Zitao’s thumb strokes along Sehun’s jaw until he looks up, surprised by the soft kiss Zitao presses against his lips. It’s only their third and last time Sehun had maybe, sort of freaked out but that was really only because they’d been in the school’s parking lot. What if someone had seen?
This time, however, they’re not in the school parking lot or in the park at midnight, when Zitao had leaned in and stolen Sehun’s first kiss and swallowed all his stumbling confessions with it. This time they’re in Zitao’s room and Sehun does want this, wants to kiss Zitao over and over and over again. He wants to fill himself up until the hunger clawing inside of him is satisfied.
He kisses back, maybe a little more aggressively than he intended, the surprised laughter from Zitao curling in his gut but Sehun’s not going to back down now. Not when it’s just them and Zitao’s bed is right there. He opens his mouth a little, tentatively swipes his tongue out against Zitao’s lips, stumbling when Zitao’s grip around his waist tightens. He tugs Sehun closer, as if there were any space between them, shuffling towards his bed as he licks into Sehun’s mouth.
They end up on the bed, Sehun pressed against Zitao’s sheets and there’s something digging into his back but Sehun’s not going to spare anything but Zitao’s mouth any attention right now. Not when Zitao is nibbling at his lower lip, tongue lapping at the bites when he pulls back. He tries to catch Zitao’s upper lip in his mouth, but Zitao presses against Sehun’s mouth harder until Sehun can feel Zitao’s tongue against his own, a moan rippling out of him as his arms twist around Zitao’s neck.
Making out with Zitao has been so far up on Sehun’s list of fantasies that the actualization of it is making his heart squeeze tighter in his chest, an almost painful compressing and he can’t help the way he whines underneath Zitao.
Zitao seems to like it, settling into a pace that’s less aggressive, slowing down and Sehun’s cock is hard but he already feels dizzy, doesn’t think he’s ready to go that far just yet.
Zitao had already promised to go slow and maybe that was alright with Sehun for the time being. Making out was pretty fucking fantastic.