woodwork
Title: woodwork
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jongdae/Yixing
Genre: Smut, PWP
Word Count: 3,601 words
Summary: Jongdae may or may not have a thing for doors.
Yixing grins despite himself and doesn’t turn around when he feels a hand brush his shoulder, instead watching the reflection of Jongdae leaning in over him through the mirror set up in front. They have a showcase in about forty-five minutes and the other male looks stunning, at least from what Yixing can see, clothed in thin, white silk that falls from two golden clasps near his shoulder bones and hangs loosely around his torso. His hair has been brushed up again into his signature, casual flip, but today something seems different, and Yixing tilts his head curiously to the side as he observes Jongdae’s reflection.
“New look?”
Jongdae nods and Yixing finally looks over to get a good view of the other directly, forgetting how close Jongdae had been leaning in. He ends up maybe centimeters from Jongdae’s face, and Yixing’s breath hitches just slightly, his eyes flickering automatically to Jongdae’s lips before he looks up. From here, he can now clearly see the dark kohl smudged into the corners of the other man’s eyes, blackened lines that follow the curve of his bottom eyelids and fade up into a point just above his cheekbones. The stylists have added eyeliner to Jongdae’s look before, but never to this extent, and Yixing thinks they should definitely do it more often.
“Wow,” he manages to breathe out, and it’s entrancing, to say the least, the way Jongdae’s mouth quirks up at the quiet statement. Yixing reaches without thinking and runs his thumb down the curve of Jongdae’s jawline, careful not to mess up the makeup and smiling gently when Jongdae closes his eyes and leans easily into his touch.
“Do you like it?” Jongdae murmurs against the other man’s hand, turning his head slightly to press his lips against Yixing’s palm. Yixing swallows and nods cautiously instead of speaking again, not trusting his voice to remain steady when Jongdae curls his slender fingers around Yixing’s wrist and turns it so he can press small, fleeting kisses on each of Yixing’s knuckles.
“Jongdae...” The older man suddenly remembers where they are and he glances around the small dressing room, surprised to find it completely empty. Jongdae hums and threads his fingers through Yixing’s, seeming rather unconcerned as he responds to Yixing’s confused look.
“I asked Junmyeon and Luhan to go prepare in the main room,” he says, his smokey eyes twinkling knowingly with something Yixing thinks could be amusement. “They were more than happy to comply.”
Yixing recalls that Exo had been given two holding areas because of their large size, though the one they are currently occupying is a lot smaller than the other, and a lot dimmer, with only a few side table lamps that seem to give off a warm, earthly glow. Suddenly, Yixing’s really thankful that he volunteered to stay in this one.
He stands up slowly from his chair and slips an arm around Jongdae’s slim waist, his eyes lidded and thoughtful as he leans down to rest his forehead against the other's. Jongdae is still playing absently with Yixing’s fingers, and in the private atmosphere of the room it’s almost too simple for Yixing to pull him close until their lips are maybe half a centimeter away from touching and then to just stay there for a minute or two, breathing softly against Jongdae’s lips and using the thumb on Jongdae’s waist to rub small circles against the other’s hipbone.
Jongdae hums quietly and reaches up to fold both arms loosely around Yixing’s neck, a tiny smile dancing on his lips and his chalked-up eyes narrowed as he watches Yixing carefully. “You waiting for something?” he asks with a hint of amusement in his tone and then Yixing snaps, closing the space and Jongdae welcomes him eagerly, the two of them falling easily into the familiar feeling of the other’s mouth against their own.
Jongdae kisses in soft, fluid movements, breathy and featherlight against Yixing’s mouth, and Yixing cups Jongdae’s chin with one palm, letting the pads of his fingers lightly caress the smooth surface of Jongdae’s cheek. This is normal for them, the small, gentle touches of lips and long pauses of just brushing against the other’s mouth, hands exploring over muscled shoulders and chests and taking their time just to feel the other in their embrace, to let physical contact do more than words they already know by heart.
They always start off slow, languid, because Jongdae loves to play, loves to keep to the infuriatingly slow pace with small, fleeting kisses, to humor the other man until Yixing is dizzy from the teasing touches of Jongdae’s lips. It’s only when Yixing makes a small, frustrated sound that Jongdae allows the older man to mold their mouths to his desire, parting his lips willingly when Yixing nips at the flesh and slides his tongue along the line of Jongdae’s bottom teeth. The smaller man folds his mouth against Yixing’s and letting him to have his way, and It makes Yixing lightheaded with anticipation because he knows it’s a show, because Jongdae loves to mess with him and it’s only a matter of time before he’ll get impatient and aggressive.
And if Yixing’s being completely honest, that’s probably the best part about kissing Jongdae.
He’s expecting it, even asking for it, but Yixing still lets out a noise of surprise when Jongdae switches it on him, suddenly forcing Yixing back against the dresser and grinning up at him with that lopsided little smirk of his before he’s mouthing at Yixing’s neck, biting down on the overly-sensitive skin. Yixing gasps and squirms embarrassingly under Jongdae's ministrations, digging fingertips tightly into the other’s shoulders to restrain from losing focus completely as Jongdae all but attacks his weak spot. If it didn’t feel so good, he would almost be ashamed of how easily he reacts to any sort of sensation on his neck, shivering involuntarily and practically keening with pleasure when Jongdae breathes out a cool stream of air.
Yixing stammers out a protest, because it's too much too fast and he almost loses his balance on the dresser when Jongdae follows the dips of his collarbones with a sinful swipe of his tongue. Yixing cries out and has to throw his arms tightly against Jongdae to keep himself steady. Chuckling against Yixing's skin, Jongdae nuzzles beneath Yixing's ear once and then reluctantly pulls away, giving the other relief from the teasing and instead turning to press another fervent kiss against the other's mouth.
It's not long before Jongdae's exploring again, tugging gently at Yixing’s black tank top with impatient hands. Yixing sighs softly into the air and Jongdae leans in to murmur along the column of Yixing’s trachea as he torturously slides his hands up and over Yixing’s chest and down his arms, coming to a rest just above the junction of his elbows.
"Hn," Jongdae pulls back just enough, a contemplative look forming on his features, watching Yixing with dark, alluring eyes that seem almost too perfect surrounded by the black shadows of makeup. He takes in the sight of Yixing with a note of approval, from his swollen lips and flushed cheeks to the reddened blemishes shining on the surface of his neck, his messy hair and the heavy rise and fall of his chest as he fights to slow his wild heart beat and the blood pulsing through his veins. He returns Jongdae's gaze with a heated one of his own, glazed with arousal as he watches Jongdae unconsciously wet his lips with a small flick of his tongue.
Yixing reaches out to trail one finger down the front of Jongdae's chest, following the line of his sternum. "The showcase starts soon." He says, conversationally, and his finger catches on the edge of the other's white jeans.
"I know." Jongdae nods, his own hands still resting on Yixing's elbows as he leans in and presses their bodies together. Yixing can feel the other's body heat through the layers of fabric that separate them, can feel Jongdae's belt buckle against his abdomen and then Jongdae’s crotch against his own, and he rolls his hips up once and Yixing loses it again, his hands flying to Jongdae’s waist and hooking into the belt loops as he yanks the smaller man forward and smashes their lips together again. Jongdae moans into his mouth and this time the kiss is sloppy and full of tongue, with Jongdae rolling his hips up into Yixing’s and reaching with desperate hands to pull at Yixing’s hair.
Yixing pulls away to catch his breath and Jongdae turns his attention to Yixing’s jawline, covering it in wet, feverish kisses as he drops one hand from it’s place in Yixing’s hair and slides it slowly down Yixing’s chest, lower and lower until he’s at the waistline of his pants. He pauses there, his forehead leaning in to rest on Yixing’s shoulder and his breathing heavy against the exposed area of Yixing’s chest. With just his index finger, he traces the outline of Yixing’s dick, already starting to harden and straining slightly against the fabric of his trousers, and Yixing shudders.
Jongdae looks up at him, that infuriatingly sly grin of his sliding into place. “I think we’ll have continue this later,” he says, and Yixing gapes at him.
“You’re kidding, right.”
Jongdae’s not kidding though, and he pulls his body away from Yixing, dancing out of the other’s reach with a deceivingly innocent laugh. “Try to focus on the performance, not on how much you want to ravish me,” he says, keeping his voice low and husky. “Also, you might want to button your shirt up a little higher.” Jongdae throws him a wink and Yixing growls in response, his hands flying up to fix his collar so it hides the rather noticeable marks blossoming on his neck.
“You’re an ass, you know that right?” Yixing hisses under his breath, after he manages to secure a seat next to Jongdae in the back of the van. The younger man only bats his eyelashes in Yixing’s direction in response, his mouth curled up charmingly at the corners. “Whatever do you mean by that?”
“You know what I mean,” Yixing mutters, and Jongdae answers by running his fingers up Yixing’s leg. The eyeliner is still present on his face, although slightly smudged, and it only serves to make Jongdae appear even more feline as he smiles cheekily. “I hope it wasn’t too difficult for you.”
Too difficult is a bit of an understatement: Yixing never wants to try and dance through Growl again with Jongdae shaking his ass discreetly in Yixing’s direction at every chance he gets. Yixing swallows and side-eyes Jongdae disapprovingly. “I hope you plan on sticking to your promise to continue from earlier,” he mutters quietly, and Jongdae’s grin only widens.
“Why? Are you going to punish me?” The younger man seems entirely too delighted by this prospect. He leans in, resting his chin on Yixing’s shoulder and spreading his slim legs just enough to give Yixing a nice view of the hard-on pushing against his jeans. “I can’t wait.”
His words come out taunting and breathless, and Yixing shivers and watches as Jongdae splays his own fingers in the dips of his hipbones, playing with the hem of his shirt. “Evidently.” He answers, and Jongdae looks up at him with eyelids painted with black kohl lines and pupils darkened with lust, and Yixing wants to press him into the car window and kiss him senseless. Jongdae easily senses Yixing’s impatience. “Not here,” he whispers, but Yixing grins wickedly, arms reaching out to grab hold of Jongdae’s thin waist and pull him into his lap.
“Yixing-” Jongdae bites back a moan when Yixing sits Jongdae down on top of his crotch, his erection full and pressing up into Jongdae’s ass through the layers of clothes. Jongdae squirms in protest, only to gasp at the feeling of Yixing’s dick settled beneath him with every shift of position.
Yixing stills Jongdae’s hips with firm hands, keeping the other man tight against his body, and presses wet, messy kisses to the heated skin of Jongdae’s neck. “Not here,” he whispers mockingly, nipping at Jongdae’s ear, “the others will notice if you’re too loud.” Jongdae whimpers and tries to rock his hips backwards.
Yixing forces Jongdae to stay still for the remainder of the trip, and by the time the van is back at the dorm Jongdae is almost trembling with anticipation, his steps unsteady as he lets Yixing pull him into the building after the other members. They all crowd their way through the entrance, everyone else talking loudly as they take off their shoes, and Jongdae sticks close, carelessly wrapping his arms around Yixing from behind and leaning in to murmur hotly in Yixing’s ear.
“I need you to touch me,” he says, licking a line behind the shell of Yixing’s ear and smirking at the way Yixing’s breath hitches. “Please, Yixing-ge-”
With a low noise in the back of his throat that he hopes goes unnoticed by the rest of the members, Yixing fists his hand in the shoulder area of Jongdae’s shirt and pulls him away from the tangle of people crowded in the doorway, the silken fabric of the designer clothing sliding under his palm. They barely make it to Jongdae’s room, and Yixing pushes him back against the door as soon as it’s been closed and locked.
Jongdae grabs at Yixing’s shirt, undoing the buttons with eager hands as Yixing distracts him with sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. He manages to undo the last button with a bit of difficulty and then grabs for the clasp of Yixing’s pants, popping it open and undoing the zipper. Yixing moans shamelessly as Jongdae frees his erection from his briefs and squeezes it between his fingers, pressing his palm up on the underside of the cock and sliding lower to brush against Yixing’s balls. “Touch me, too,” he breathes against Yixing’s lips, and Yixing immediately goes for Jongdae’s belt buckle, making quick work of it and sliding Jongdae’s pants and underwear halfway down his thighs. Jongdae releases Yixing’s dick from his grasp and helps to slide his clothes the rest of the way down, kicking them away to somewhere across the room along with his socks. Yixing helps him lift the silky top from his torso, leaving Jongdae completely naked beneath Yixing’s gaze, his erection hot and heavy and flushed dark in contrast to his pale skin.
Yixing shrugs his own shirt from his shoulders and then runs his hands up Jongdae’s arms, feeling the muscles tremble under his touch as he slides his hands up across Jongdae’s biceps and then down his chest, exploring the smooth expanse of heated skin that shivers invitingly under his touch. Jongdae gasps under the press of his fingertips, his eyes fluttering closed and the eyeliner against his lids standing out starkly in the limited light of the room. Yixing trails his fingers along the curve of Jongdae’s waist and then over his abdomen, relishing in the way Jongdae shivers due to the sensation.
He follows the thin trail of hair down to Jongdae’s dick, taking the hardened member in his hand and pressing the pad of his thumb up against the swollen tip. He’s rewarded with a small mew of impatience that falls from Jongdae’s lips, and Yixing takes hold of Jongdae’s cock with a firmer grip, pleasuring him with rough, uneven strokes that have Jongdae clutching at Yixing’s shoulders. “Fuck me,” he pleads into Yixing’s ear, and Yixing moans in anticipation.
Pulling away reluctantly from Jongdae’s arms, Yixing stumbles over to the stand beside Jongdae’s bed, stripping off the rest of his clothes as he does so. He fumbles around for the bottle of lube and a condom, then turns around and is surprised to find Jongdae still resting against the door.
Jongdae bites his lip and meets Yixing’s eyes, his gaze hooded and alluring under the dark makeup. “On the door,” he says quietly, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “...Please?”
Only half-processing Jongdae’s words through the arousal clouding his mind, Yixing nods dumbly and crosses over back to Jongdae, impossibly turned on by the idea of taking Jongdae standing up. “Are you sure?” He whispers uncertainly, but Jongdae’s only response is to crush their lips together, and so Yixing obediently takes hold of Jongdae’s hips and lifts him from the ground, pushing him up against the door. Jongdae wraps his legs around Yixing’s waist, both of them gasping when their erections rub up against each other.
Fumbling with the bottle, Yixing manages to spill the lube onto his fingers and reach under Jongdae, sliding his index finger carefully into Jongdae’s ass. Jongdae’s thighs tremble as they hold him up on Yixing’s waist, and the younger man buries his face into Yixing’s neck as Yixing eventually adds a second finger, then a third, stretching Jongdae cautiously and feeling around until the other arches into him with a sudden cry of pleasure when he manages to push up against Jongdae’s prostate.
Jongdae eventually hisses at him to hurry up, and then Yixing gently sets Jongdae back on the ground so he can roll on the condom, coating himself with more lube to help the slide. Jongdae impatiently wraps one leg around Yixing again as soon as he finishes preparing, tugging on Yixing’s arms until the other lifts his hips up once more and presses him back into the door.
Jongdae cries out shamelessly and rolls his hips up, his legs tight around Yixing’s waist and feeling the other’s dick press up between his ass cheeks. “Yixing-”
With a bit of difficulty, Yixing pushes up Jongdae’s thighs and manages to slide himself inside, inching slowly until he’s completely surrounded by Jongdae’s heat. The smaller man tenses up his muscles around Yixing’s erection and it takes all of Yixing’s control not to thrust in harder until Jongdae relaxes around his dick.
Jongdae’s nails dig into the skin of Yixing’s back, his breathing harsh as he shifts and adjusts himself slightly on Yixing’s cock. “Fuck, Yixing,” He mutters, his eyes glazed, and Yixing takes that as the go ahead and slams Jongdae back against the door.
It takes him a little bit to figure out a rhythm, but soon Yixing’s thrusting up at a steady pace and Jongdae meets him easily, his head a thrown back against the wall and repeated moans and cries leaving his mouth as his back slips up and down against the wood paneling of the door. Jongdae’s always been a little on the noisy side, and he almost screams at the jolt of pleasure that has his toes curling when Yixing hits his prostate again. His lips are flushed and parted with the repeated sounds, and Yixing thinks through his haze of an impending climax that Jongdae looks beautiful, with his darkened eyelids closed and lashes brushing against his cheeks.
He hides his face in Jongdae’s chest, inhaling the sweaty skin and tightening his grip on Jongdae’s hips, and then Jongdae manages to grab hold of his own erection, stroking himself with shaking hands until Yixing hits just right again and he cries out and comes over Yixing’s torso, his muscles clenching enough to send Yixing over the edge with a gasp as well. He leans heavily into Jongdae’s body and slows his thrusts, riding out his orgasm until he’s able to pull out completely, losing his grip on Jongdae’s hips as he does so and lowering himself onto the ground. Jongdae slides down beside him, his legs shaking with exhaustion, and together they lean back against the door, breathing heavily. Yixing rips the condom off and ties it, throwing it towards the trashcan, and then he pulls Jongdae into his lap, brushing at the other’s messy bangs with his fingers and pressing a small kiss to the corner of Jongdae’s lips.
Jongdae sighs and leans back into Yixing’s embrace, wincing at the ache in his lower back that acts up when he shifts into a different position. His back is rubbed red and raw from the door, and Yixing leaves soft kisses of apology along the outlines of Jongdae’s shoulder blades and down his spine. “Will you be okay?” he asks quietly, and Jongdae nods.
“Let me just rest for a little.” He says, and he curls into Yixing’s chest, tangling their legs together and closing his eyes.
(It’s not until Kyungsoo knocks on the door and announces that due to their absence at the dinner table he stored leftovers in the fridge and if they’re done destroying the woodwork they’re welcome to have some, and Yixing remembers that they haven’t actually eaten yet. With a long-suffering sigh, Jongdae stands up and lets Yixing clean him off, and then he manages to dig up some of Yixing’s clothes from his own drawers. Jongdae tosses them over, before pulling on a pair of sweatpants of his own and then standing there, waiting for Yixing to finish getting dressed.
“Don’t you want a shirt?” Yixing asks hesitantly after pulling his own tank-top over his head, but Jongdae grins back at him and shakes his head, his hair still messy, damp with sweat and the smell of sex lingering on his skin.
“Where would be the fun in that? This way I can distract you without even having to do anything.” He stretches and flexes his arms to prove a point, and Yixing flushes and tries to look anywhere but at Jongdae’s torso as they leave the room.)
A/N: oops here's that porn i was talking about looks like i fin ish ed it
i hope its not too cringeworthy sob s thank for readin g im going to go hide now ;; ;
here's a heart for surviv ing my fail smut ♡
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jongdae/Yixing
Genre: Smut, PWP
Word Count: 3,601 words
Summary: Jongdae may or may not have a thing for doors.
Yixing grins despite himself and doesn’t turn around when he feels a hand brush his shoulder, instead watching the reflection of Jongdae leaning in over him through the mirror set up in front. They have a showcase in about forty-five minutes and the other male looks stunning, at least from what Yixing can see, clothed in thin, white silk that falls from two golden clasps near his shoulder bones and hangs loosely around his torso. His hair has been brushed up again into his signature, casual flip, but today something seems different, and Yixing tilts his head curiously to the side as he observes Jongdae’s reflection.
“New look?”
Jongdae nods and Yixing finally looks over to get a good view of the other directly, forgetting how close Jongdae had been leaning in. He ends up maybe centimeters from Jongdae’s face, and Yixing’s breath hitches just slightly, his eyes flickering automatically to Jongdae’s lips before he looks up. From here, he can now clearly see the dark kohl smudged into the corners of the other man’s eyes, blackened lines that follow the curve of his bottom eyelids and fade up into a point just above his cheekbones. The stylists have added eyeliner to Jongdae’s look before, but never to this extent, and Yixing thinks they should definitely do it more often.
“Wow,” he manages to breathe out, and it’s entrancing, to say the least, the way Jongdae’s mouth quirks up at the quiet statement. Yixing reaches without thinking and runs his thumb down the curve of Jongdae’s jawline, careful not to mess up the makeup and smiling gently when Jongdae closes his eyes and leans easily into his touch.
“Do you like it?” Jongdae murmurs against the other man’s hand, turning his head slightly to press his lips against Yixing’s palm. Yixing swallows and nods cautiously instead of speaking again, not trusting his voice to remain steady when Jongdae curls his slender fingers around Yixing’s wrist and turns it so he can press small, fleeting kisses on each of Yixing’s knuckles.
“Jongdae...” The older man suddenly remembers where they are and he glances around the small dressing room, surprised to find it completely empty. Jongdae hums and threads his fingers through Yixing’s, seeming rather unconcerned as he responds to Yixing’s confused look.
“I asked Junmyeon and Luhan to go prepare in the main room,” he says, his smokey eyes twinkling knowingly with something Yixing thinks could be amusement. “They were more than happy to comply.”
Yixing recalls that Exo had been given two holding areas because of their large size, though the one they are currently occupying is a lot smaller than the other, and a lot dimmer, with only a few side table lamps that seem to give off a warm, earthly glow. Suddenly, Yixing’s really thankful that he volunteered to stay in this one.
He stands up slowly from his chair and slips an arm around Jongdae’s slim waist, his eyes lidded and thoughtful as he leans down to rest his forehead against the other's. Jongdae is still playing absently with Yixing’s fingers, and in the private atmosphere of the room it’s almost too simple for Yixing to pull him close until their lips are maybe half a centimeter away from touching and then to just stay there for a minute or two, breathing softly against Jongdae’s lips and using the thumb on Jongdae’s waist to rub small circles against the other’s hipbone.
Jongdae hums quietly and reaches up to fold both arms loosely around Yixing’s neck, a tiny smile dancing on his lips and his chalked-up eyes narrowed as he watches Yixing carefully. “You waiting for something?” he asks with a hint of amusement in his tone and then Yixing snaps, closing the space and Jongdae welcomes him eagerly, the two of them falling easily into the familiar feeling of the other’s mouth against their own.
Jongdae kisses in soft, fluid movements, breathy and featherlight against Yixing’s mouth, and Yixing cups Jongdae’s chin with one palm, letting the pads of his fingers lightly caress the smooth surface of Jongdae’s cheek. This is normal for them, the small, gentle touches of lips and long pauses of just brushing against the other’s mouth, hands exploring over muscled shoulders and chests and taking their time just to feel the other in their embrace, to let physical contact do more than words they already know by heart.
They always start off slow, languid, because Jongdae loves to play, loves to keep to the infuriatingly slow pace with small, fleeting kisses, to humor the other man until Yixing is dizzy from the teasing touches of Jongdae’s lips. It’s only when Yixing makes a small, frustrated sound that Jongdae allows the older man to mold their mouths to his desire, parting his lips willingly when Yixing nips at the flesh and slides his tongue along the line of Jongdae’s bottom teeth. The smaller man folds his mouth against Yixing’s and letting him to have his way, and It makes Yixing lightheaded with anticipation because he knows it’s a show, because Jongdae loves to mess with him and it’s only a matter of time before he’ll get impatient and aggressive.
And if Yixing’s being completely honest, that’s probably the best part about kissing Jongdae.
He’s expecting it, even asking for it, but Yixing still lets out a noise of surprise when Jongdae switches it on him, suddenly forcing Yixing back against the dresser and grinning up at him with that lopsided little smirk of his before he’s mouthing at Yixing’s neck, biting down on the overly-sensitive skin. Yixing gasps and squirms embarrassingly under Jongdae's ministrations, digging fingertips tightly into the other’s shoulders to restrain from losing focus completely as Jongdae all but attacks his weak spot. If it didn’t feel so good, he would almost be ashamed of how easily he reacts to any sort of sensation on his neck, shivering involuntarily and practically keening with pleasure when Jongdae breathes out a cool stream of air.
Yixing stammers out a protest, because it's too much too fast and he almost loses his balance on the dresser when Jongdae follows the dips of his collarbones with a sinful swipe of his tongue. Yixing cries out and has to throw his arms tightly against Jongdae to keep himself steady. Chuckling against Yixing's skin, Jongdae nuzzles beneath Yixing's ear once and then reluctantly pulls away, giving the other relief from the teasing and instead turning to press another fervent kiss against the other's mouth.
It's not long before Jongdae's exploring again, tugging gently at Yixing’s black tank top with impatient hands. Yixing sighs softly into the air and Jongdae leans in to murmur along the column of Yixing’s trachea as he torturously slides his hands up and over Yixing’s chest and down his arms, coming to a rest just above the junction of his elbows.
"Hn," Jongdae pulls back just enough, a contemplative look forming on his features, watching Yixing with dark, alluring eyes that seem almost too perfect surrounded by the black shadows of makeup. He takes in the sight of Yixing with a note of approval, from his swollen lips and flushed cheeks to the reddened blemishes shining on the surface of his neck, his messy hair and the heavy rise and fall of his chest as he fights to slow his wild heart beat and the blood pulsing through his veins. He returns Jongdae's gaze with a heated one of his own, glazed with arousal as he watches Jongdae unconsciously wet his lips with a small flick of his tongue.
Yixing reaches out to trail one finger down the front of Jongdae's chest, following the line of his sternum. "The showcase starts soon." He says, conversationally, and his finger catches on the edge of the other's white jeans.
"I know." Jongdae nods, his own hands still resting on Yixing's elbows as he leans in and presses their bodies together. Yixing can feel the other's body heat through the layers of fabric that separate them, can feel Jongdae's belt buckle against his abdomen and then Jongdae’s crotch against his own, and he rolls his hips up once and Yixing loses it again, his hands flying to Jongdae’s waist and hooking into the belt loops as he yanks the smaller man forward and smashes their lips together again. Jongdae moans into his mouth and this time the kiss is sloppy and full of tongue, with Jongdae rolling his hips up into Yixing’s and reaching with desperate hands to pull at Yixing’s hair.
Yixing pulls away to catch his breath and Jongdae turns his attention to Yixing’s jawline, covering it in wet, feverish kisses as he drops one hand from it’s place in Yixing’s hair and slides it slowly down Yixing’s chest, lower and lower until he’s at the waistline of his pants. He pauses there, his forehead leaning in to rest on Yixing’s shoulder and his breathing heavy against the exposed area of Yixing’s chest. With just his index finger, he traces the outline of Yixing’s dick, already starting to harden and straining slightly against the fabric of his trousers, and Yixing shudders.
Jongdae looks up at him, that infuriatingly sly grin of his sliding into place. “I think we’ll have continue this later,” he says, and Yixing gapes at him.
“You’re kidding, right.”
Jongdae’s not kidding though, and he pulls his body away from Yixing, dancing out of the other’s reach with a deceivingly innocent laugh. “Try to focus on the performance, not on how much you want to ravish me,” he says, keeping his voice low and husky. “Also, you might want to button your shirt up a little higher.” Jongdae throws him a wink and Yixing growls in response, his hands flying up to fix his collar so it hides the rather noticeable marks blossoming on his neck.
“You’re an ass, you know that right?” Yixing hisses under his breath, after he manages to secure a seat next to Jongdae in the back of the van. The younger man only bats his eyelashes in Yixing’s direction in response, his mouth curled up charmingly at the corners. “Whatever do you mean by that?”
“You know what I mean,” Yixing mutters, and Jongdae answers by running his fingers up Yixing’s leg. The eyeliner is still present on his face, although slightly smudged, and it only serves to make Jongdae appear even more feline as he smiles cheekily. “I hope it wasn’t too difficult for you.”
Too difficult is a bit of an understatement: Yixing never wants to try and dance through Growl again with Jongdae shaking his ass discreetly in Yixing’s direction at every chance he gets. Yixing swallows and side-eyes Jongdae disapprovingly. “I hope you plan on sticking to your promise to continue from earlier,” he mutters quietly, and Jongdae’s grin only widens.
“Why? Are you going to punish me?” The younger man seems entirely too delighted by this prospect. He leans in, resting his chin on Yixing’s shoulder and spreading his slim legs just enough to give Yixing a nice view of the hard-on pushing against his jeans. “I can’t wait.”
His words come out taunting and breathless, and Yixing shivers and watches as Jongdae splays his own fingers in the dips of his hipbones, playing with the hem of his shirt. “Evidently.” He answers, and Jongdae looks up at him with eyelids painted with black kohl lines and pupils darkened with lust, and Yixing wants to press him into the car window and kiss him senseless. Jongdae easily senses Yixing’s impatience. “Not here,” he whispers, but Yixing grins wickedly, arms reaching out to grab hold of Jongdae’s thin waist and pull him into his lap.
“Yixing-” Jongdae bites back a moan when Yixing sits Jongdae down on top of his crotch, his erection full and pressing up into Jongdae’s ass through the layers of clothes. Jongdae squirms in protest, only to gasp at the feeling of Yixing’s dick settled beneath him with every shift of position.
Yixing stills Jongdae’s hips with firm hands, keeping the other man tight against his body, and presses wet, messy kisses to the heated skin of Jongdae’s neck. “Not here,” he whispers mockingly, nipping at Jongdae’s ear, “the others will notice if you’re too loud.” Jongdae whimpers and tries to rock his hips backwards.
Yixing forces Jongdae to stay still for the remainder of the trip, and by the time the van is back at the dorm Jongdae is almost trembling with anticipation, his steps unsteady as he lets Yixing pull him into the building after the other members. They all crowd their way through the entrance, everyone else talking loudly as they take off their shoes, and Jongdae sticks close, carelessly wrapping his arms around Yixing from behind and leaning in to murmur hotly in Yixing’s ear.
“I need you to touch me,” he says, licking a line behind the shell of Yixing’s ear and smirking at the way Yixing’s breath hitches. “Please, Yixing-ge-”
With a low noise in the back of his throat that he hopes goes unnoticed by the rest of the members, Yixing fists his hand in the shoulder area of Jongdae’s shirt and pulls him away from the tangle of people crowded in the doorway, the silken fabric of the designer clothing sliding under his palm. They barely make it to Jongdae’s room, and Yixing pushes him back against the door as soon as it’s been closed and locked.
Jongdae grabs at Yixing’s shirt, undoing the buttons with eager hands as Yixing distracts him with sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. He manages to undo the last button with a bit of difficulty and then grabs for the clasp of Yixing’s pants, popping it open and undoing the zipper. Yixing moans shamelessly as Jongdae frees his erection from his briefs and squeezes it between his fingers, pressing his palm up on the underside of the cock and sliding lower to brush against Yixing’s balls. “Touch me, too,” he breathes against Yixing’s lips, and Yixing immediately goes for Jongdae’s belt buckle, making quick work of it and sliding Jongdae’s pants and underwear halfway down his thighs. Jongdae releases Yixing’s dick from his grasp and helps to slide his clothes the rest of the way down, kicking them away to somewhere across the room along with his socks. Yixing helps him lift the silky top from his torso, leaving Jongdae completely naked beneath Yixing’s gaze, his erection hot and heavy and flushed dark in contrast to his pale skin.
Yixing shrugs his own shirt from his shoulders and then runs his hands up Jongdae’s arms, feeling the muscles tremble under his touch as he slides his hands up across Jongdae’s biceps and then down his chest, exploring the smooth expanse of heated skin that shivers invitingly under his touch. Jongdae gasps under the press of his fingertips, his eyes fluttering closed and the eyeliner against his lids standing out starkly in the limited light of the room. Yixing trails his fingers along the curve of Jongdae’s waist and then over his abdomen, relishing in the way Jongdae shivers due to the sensation.
He follows the thin trail of hair down to Jongdae’s dick, taking the hardened member in his hand and pressing the pad of his thumb up against the swollen tip. He’s rewarded with a small mew of impatience that falls from Jongdae’s lips, and Yixing takes hold of Jongdae’s cock with a firmer grip, pleasuring him with rough, uneven strokes that have Jongdae clutching at Yixing’s shoulders. “Fuck me,” he pleads into Yixing’s ear, and Yixing moans in anticipation.
Pulling away reluctantly from Jongdae’s arms, Yixing stumbles over to the stand beside Jongdae’s bed, stripping off the rest of his clothes as he does so. He fumbles around for the bottle of lube and a condom, then turns around and is surprised to find Jongdae still resting against the door.
Jongdae bites his lip and meets Yixing’s eyes, his gaze hooded and alluring under the dark makeup. “On the door,” he says quietly, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “...Please?”
Only half-processing Jongdae’s words through the arousal clouding his mind, Yixing nods dumbly and crosses over back to Jongdae, impossibly turned on by the idea of taking Jongdae standing up. “Are you sure?” He whispers uncertainly, but Jongdae’s only response is to crush their lips together, and so Yixing obediently takes hold of Jongdae’s hips and lifts him from the ground, pushing him up against the door. Jongdae wraps his legs around Yixing’s waist, both of them gasping when their erections rub up against each other.
Fumbling with the bottle, Yixing manages to spill the lube onto his fingers and reach under Jongdae, sliding his index finger carefully into Jongdae’s ass. Jongdae’s thighs tremble as they hold him up on Yixing’s waist, and the younger man buries his face into Yixing’s neck as Yixing eventually adds a second finger, then a third, stretching Jongdae cautiously and feeling around until the other arches into him with a sudden cry of pleasure when he manages to push up against Jongdae’s prostate.
Jongdae eventually hisses at him to hurry up, and then Yixing gently sets Jongdae back on the ground so he can roll on the condom, coating himself with more lube to help the slide. Jongdae impatiently wraps one leg around Yixing again as soon as he finishes preparing, tugging on Yixing’s arms until the other lifts his hips up once more and presses him back into the door.
Jongdae cries out shamelessly and rolls his hips up, his legs tight around Yixing’s waist and feeling the other’s dick press up between his ass cheeks. “Yixing-”
With a bit of difficulty, Yixing pushes up Jongdae’s thighs and manages to slide himself inside, inching slowly until he’s completely surrounded by Jongdae’s heat. The smaller man tenses up his muscles around Yixing’s erection and it takes all of Yixing’s control not to thrust in harder until Jongdae relaxes around his dick.
Jongdae’s nails dig into the skin of Yixing’s back, his breathing harsh as he shifts and adjusts himself slightly on Yixing’s cock. “Fuck, Yixing,” He mutters, his eyes glazed, and Yixing takes that as the go ahead and slams Jongdae back against the door.
It takes him a little bit to figure out a rhythm, but soon Yixing’s thrusting up at a steady pace and Jongdae meets him easily, his head a thrown back against the wall and repeated moans and cries leaving his mouth as his back slips up and down against the wood paneling of the door. Jongdae’s always been a little on the noisy side, and he almost screams at the jolt of pleasure that has his toes curling when Yixing hits his prostate again. His lips are flushed and parted with the repeated sounds, and Yixing thinks through his haze of an impending climax that Jongdae looks beautiful, with his darkened eyelids closed and lashes brushing against his cheeks.
He hides his face in Jongdae’s chest, inhaling the sweaty skin and tightening his grip on Jongdae’s hips, and then Jongdae manages to grab hold of his own erection, stroking himself with shaking hands until Yixing hits just right again and he cries out and comes over Yixing’s torso, his muscles clenching enough to send Yixing over the edge with a gasp as well. He leans heavily into Jongdae’s body and slows his thrusts, riding out his orgasm until he’s able to pull out completely, losing his grip on Jongdae’s hips as he does so and lowering himself onto the ground. Jongdae slides down beside him, his legs shaking with exhaustion, and together they lean back against the door, breathing heavily. Yixing rips the condom off and ties it, throwing it towards the trashcan, and then he pulls Jongdae into his lap, brushing at the other’s messy bangs with his fingers and pressing a small kiss to the corner of Jongdae’s lips.
Jongdae sighs and leans back into Yixing’s embrace, wincing at the ache in his lower back that acts up when he shifts into a different position. His back is rubbed red and raw from the door, and Yixing leaves soft kisses of apology along the outlines of Jongdae’s shoulder blades and down his spine. “Will you be okay?” he asks quietly, and Jongdae nods.
“Let me just rest for a little.” He says, and he curls into Yixing’s chest, tangling their legs together and closing his eyes.
(It’s not until Kyungsoo knocks on the door and announces that due to their absence at the dinner table he stored leftovers in the fridge and if they’re done destroying the woodwork they’re welcome to have some, and Yixing remembers that they haven’t actually eaten yet. With a long-suffering sigh, Jongdae stands up and lets Yixing clean him off, and then he manages to dig up some of Yixing’s clothes from his own drawers. Jongdae tosses them over, before pulling on a pair of sweatpants of his own and then standing there, waiting for Yixing to finish getting dressed.
“Don’t you want a shirt?” Yixing asks hesitantly after pulling his own tank-top over his head, but Jongdae grins back at him and shakes his head, his hair still messy, damp with sweat and the smell of sex lingering on his skin.
“Where would be the fun in that? This way I can distract you without even having to do anything.” He stretches and flexes his arms to prove a point, and Yixing flushes and tries to look anywhere but at Jongdae’s torso as they leave the room.)
A/N: oops here's that porn i was talking about looks like i fin ish ed it
i hope its not too cringeworthy sob s thank for readin g im going to go hide now ;; ;
here's a heart for surviv ing my fail smut ♡