Archive of Our Own

Wang Yibo spends the entire summer of filming in Xiao Zhan's space. It's constant and he's an absolute nuisance and Xiao Zhan loves almost every second of it.

He knew about Yibo before he came on set - technically, he'd met Yibo once before, even though he doubted Yibo remembered him. Everyone knew about Yibo. Xiao Zhan knew that their characters obviously had to become very close, but he was a little nervous about how that would work if he wasn't able to get close to Yibo in real life.

He shouldn't have worried.

They shouldn't have clicked as hard as they did. Even before he arrived at the pre-filming boot camp, he heard, over and over again, that Yibo was stand-offish, that Yibo didn't warm up easily to people.

How on earth was Xiao Zhan supposed to get to know him, if that was true?

The thing was, when Yibo finally showed up to the boot camp (days late - Xiao Zhan heard it had to do with a project he'd signed on to do before the show picked him up), he didn't seem to know he was supposed to be stand-offish. At least, he didn't seem to know he was supposed to be stand-offish with Xiao Zhan.

Xiao Zhan does remember being re-introduced to him and he does remember Yibo's cautious eyes studying him as Director Chen talks to them intensely about their characters. But when the switch was thrown and Yibo decided Xiao Zhan was someone to trust - it was just that quick.

It feels like they went from a slightly nervous caution around each other to a pure, gleeful teasing friendship between one moment and the next. It's so easy, and it's so childish, and something about Yibo brings it out in Xiao Zhan. He can't stop interacting with Yibo on a completely silly, ridiculous level and he can't stop grinning when he does so. When they're together on set, they're slapping each other, they're chasing each other, they're teasing, and they're giggling.

And, of course, they are flirting. All of it is flirting. Xiao Zhan feels it from the start - in the pit of his stomach, in the flush of his cheeks, in all the times he gets lost in Yibo's silly smile.

Cameras are on them all the time - even when they're not filming, the crew is recording moments for a future behind-the-scenes release. Xiao Zhan is horribly aware of it at first, but Yibo doesn't care about it - doesn't care about it so hard that the not-caring kind of rubs off on Xiao Zhan.

"Rock Paper Scissors, loser has to post the worst selfie they have to Weibo," Yibo challenges him at hair and make-up just a few weeks into filming.

Xiao Zhan keeps scrolling on his phone with one hand, does the one-two-three shoot with the other, without even looking up.

Yibo grabs his hand. "Paper covers rock," he crows triumphantly. "Gimme your phone, I want to choose it."

Xiao Zhan grumbles companionably, and hands over his phone. Yibo takes absolute delight in scrolling through his photos, tilting the phone this way and that, occasionally zooming in. "Got it," he says. "Yes, this is terrible, it's perfect."

Xiao Zhan sighs and catches the eye of Suyin, his make-up artist, in the mirror. "See how he treats me?" he asks. "This kid is a bad kid. He's awful."

Suyin smiles and nods at him, but she's clearly long since stopped paying much attention to them.

"Gimme," Xiao Zhan demands, holding out his hand for the phone without moving his face, since Suyin is working on his under-eye make-up now.

Yibo hands the phone back to him with a smirk. Xiao Zhan waits until Suyin moves on to his forehead before looking down to see what Yibo has done. It's not even that bad a picture - his face looks stupid, sure, because he'd clearly been distracted halfway through the shot. He's pretty sure the next picture on the roll was the one where he actually got the selfie he was going for. But in this one, his eyes are tracking somewhere off-frame, and he's smiling a seriously goofy smile. "I've taken way worse selfies than that," he scoffs to Yibo, but he's still looking at the picture. He remembers this picture - he's distracted in the shot because Yibo walked into the room in basketball shorts and a zip-up, but in full Lan Wangji hair, and Xiao Zhan had giggled so hard he'd lost the focus.

He glances over at Yibo. Yibo is grinning at him, his face fully turned to face him from his seat. His make-up artist is just quietly working on him from that weird sideways angle, because it happens so often, it's just easier to go with it, apparently.

Yibo's face turns towards him like a flower towards the sun, almost always. It's something Xiao Zhan has been thinking about for weeks now. He doesn't mind it.

***

"Rock Paper Scissors and whoever loses has to touch a bug," Xiao Zhan says, because he's bored and he's hot and Yibo has dragged him down to his level. They're sprawled on a curb in one of the city sets, in the tiny bit of shade offered by the facade of what's supposed to be an inn. They've been waiting for lighting to finish getting set up for ages and from the way it's going, they've got ages more to go. Xiao Zhan is so hot, he's got sweat trickling down his thighs. Even hitching up the robes to his knees is doing no good. It's extremely unpleasant.

"Uh-uh," Yibo says firmly. "No way."

"But you gotta," Xiao Zhan says. "That's the game."

"No way," Yibo says again and he sets his jaw in that way that means he's really going to dig in his heels.

Xiao Zhan changes tack. "Rock Paper Scissors and whoever loses has to sleep on the floor tonight." It's such a dumb game - they're not even rooming together, how would they even know? But the dumb part is also the very point.

Yibo lifts up his hand to play immediately. They do the one-two-three shoot and Yibo's hand is immediately over his fist, his other arm coming up in a fist-pump of triumph. "Will you be okay, old man?" he asks, giggling. "Will you throw your back out?"

Xiao Zhan groans, letting his head fall down so his chin rests on his chest. "You can't hold me to that, didi. That's not fair. I'm already suffering so much from the heat - I can't survive!'

"You gotta." Yibo's eyes are sparking with humor. "That's the game."

Xiao Zhan groans again. He casts Yibo his saddest, most beseeching pout.

Yibo holds firm for a handful of seconds then relents. He moves his jaw a little, thinking about it. "Double or nothing," he says finally. "Rock Paper Scissors, loser has to kiss the other person."

Xiao Zhan, already prepared to thrust his hand out, stops and looks at him. "How is that even double or nothing?" he says, even though that's not really the problem he's grappling with here.

"Are you in?" Yibo says. His tone is resolute.

His bet makes no sense. Xiao Zhan glances around, and nods. "Okay. In."

Yibo's smile glows and they do one-two-three shoot.

Xiao Zhan throws down his usual rock, expecting the warmth of Yibo's palm to cover his fist once more.

Yibo throws out scissors. "You win, Zhan-ge," he says softly. "Double or nothing."

"That doesn't even make any sense," Xiao Zhan says bemusedly. "That's not how double or nothing even works!" But he's glancing around again and pushing himself to his feet. "C'mere."

There's an alcove where two buildings come together, off camera, away from the bustle of the staff working in the blistering heat to get everything set up. No one's paying them any attention. Xiao Zhan's heart is beating a little fast at how stupid this is, but he doesn't let that stop him from reaching out a hand behind him.

Yibo's hand slips into his immediately.

Xiao Zhan draws him back into the shadowed alcove. It's still hot but the escape from the sun feels amazing. Yibo's hand is soft in his own, and not even sweaty. "I'm dripping with sweat and you're, like, an ice princess," Xiao Zhan says, turning around.

Yibo is very close to him. He looks expectant, and he's rocking up on his toes a little. He tilts his head at Xiao Zhan, and waits.

Xiao Zhan rolls his eyes and stretches his neck, like he's getting ready to wrestle or something.

Yibo's watching Xiao Zhan expectantly.

"Okay, okay," Xiao Zhan says, moving closer. Yibo's just that much shorter than him - he doesn't have to really tilt his head up or anything, but Xiao Zhan still feels like he's almost looming over him. Yibo's gone very still in the dimness of their hidden space. "Double or nothing, you say, huh?"

Xiao Zhan leans in and presses his lips against Yibo's. He tells himself he's ready for it to be a quick smooch, or a funny, smacking kiss. But when Yibo makes a sound in his throat, and wraps his hands around Xiao Zhan's waist, his heart kicks up a notch. That's what he's been ready for.

"Also," he says against Yibo's lips, breathlessly, "how is this even a 'loser has to' situation? Kissing is a two-person operation." Yibo's pressing up against him harder, sliding his tongue across his lips. "You're kissing me as much as I'm kissing you." He's talking because he's giddy with this; he's talking because the teasing is as much a part of this as anything else.

"I'm kissing you more than you're kissing me right now," Yibo says. It comes out petulant. "Shut up, Zhan-ge."

Xiao Zhan nods, and lets his mouth open a little, and oh, Yibo slides his tongue in right away. This is a kiss. This is a kiss. He thinks he's up on his toes, leaning over Yibo, leaning into it. It's sweet and it's hot and Yibo's hands are spanning his whole waist. He doesn't even really realize he's pushed Yibo back until Yibo hits the wall with an "Oof."

Xiao Zhan breaks away. They're up against each other and he can't quite see Yibo's expression in the tilted rays of sun that are sliding into the alcove. But he can feel Yibo's breath coming fast and Yibo's hands clutching his sides. He can see the tilt of Yibo's chin as he looks at Xiao Zhan, biting his own lip for a second, waiting for more.

Xiao Zhan takes a breath. "Wang-laoshi," he says. "I've gotta stop trying to win Rock Paper Scissors with you."

***

That's where it starts, in the endless summer heat, the stickiness of the still air, in the days and nights of shooting. It's never getting enough sleep and it's hours of boredom in between shots. It's too much sweat, and too many layers of costume, and it's him and Wang Yibo. Yibo, always in his space. Yibo, pushing every boundary, and Xiao Zhan hopelessly into it.

He hadn't been sure if the Rock Paper Scissors kiss was just a one-time thing at first, and that would have been fine if it was. Largely fine. Easier, maybe. Safer, for sure.

But Yibo has kept it up. Or, okay, to be fair, they've both kept it up. Yibo grins at him pretty much every time he turns around. On set, he gets under Xiao Zhan's skin, in a good way. He makes Xiao Zhan feel like he's as young as Yibo, or at least makes him act like it.

So all day it's slap-fighting, and chasing each other around, and endless teasing back and forth. Xiao Zhan talks too loud, laughs too loud when he's around Yibo, but it doesn't feel like it until he plays it back in his head, because Yibo is always on the same level.

At night, they're back at the hotel and it's piling into rooms for line-readings with the other cast members, or just hanging out in whoever has the cleanest room that night, drinking from the minibar and laughing over absolutely nothing.

Tonight it's Xiao Zhan's room. All the rooms are small, and his is no exception. Everyone is sprawled over the bed or cross-legged on the floor. Yu Bin is practicing lines in the corner with Ziyi. Zhuocheng is doing some weird wrestling move with Li Ji. Everyone is hyped up and exhausted all at the same time, which is the way it is pretty much every night. It coalesces in Xiao Zhan as a warm spark - he's so tired he can't even lift his head up, but he feels like he may never sleep again. And he's happy - they're all in it together.

People start peeling off one by one - they have an early call in the morning. Xiao Zhan can't bring himself to get up from where he's sprawled on the bed, squinting at his phone even though his glasses are on - he's that tired. He's not even really reading anything, just scrolling. Yu Bin calls out, "See you tomorrow early - get some sleep," as he lets the door swing shut behind him.

It's just Yibo left. He's sprawled on the bed next to Xiao Zhan, but like halfway down; the space at the top where Zhuocheng had been sitting still has the pillows on that side scrunched up against the wall.

Xiao Zhan puts his phone down on the bedside table and takes off his glasses, too, rubbing his eyes. When he looks up, Yibo has his face tilted up, watching him. He looks eager and exhausted, in equal measure. He scoots himself further up the bed, pushing himself up on his side next to Xiao Zhan.

Xiao Zhan gives him a look.

"Rock Paper Scissors?" Yibo says, but he doesn't follow it up with a bet. He just rolls on top of Xiao Zhan.

They're kissing immediately, but this is something incredibly ramped up from anything they've done before. Making out with Yibo against a wall on set, or in a trailer, or behind a rack of clothes - that's one thing. Making out with Yibo in a bed, with Yibo pressed up against him, with Yibo shifting against him - it's a whole other thing entirely.

Xiao Zhan's exhaustion is gone, replaced with pure heat. They kiss for a while, just like that, and there's something to be said for kissing without keeping an awareness of who might wander by and see them. For kissing without rushing - no less intense, but Xiao Zhan can feel himself sinking into it.

Yibo kisses with his whole body - it's something Xiao Zhan has noticed every time. It's the tilt of his head, and the way his hands seem to constantly want to touch and roam up and down Xiao Zhan's hips and back - he shifts forward into Xiao Zhan's space constantly.

Now, on the bed together, Yibo on top of him, it's so much more than it's ever been standing up. Yibo's lips are soft and he's making small noises against Xiao Zhan's mouth. He's moving his hands per usual - he's got one in Xiao Zhan's hair and he's tugging it gently as he kisses him. It's sending zings of pleasure throughout Xiao Zhan's body with each tug - he'd never known he was into that, but he is so into that.

Yibo gives a sigh and shifts, sliding his thigh in between Xiao Zhan's legs. Xiao Zhan's hands move against Yibo's sides as Yibo rocks down against him. He can't help the moan that escapes his throat. He half expects Yibo to tease him for it, but Yibo just moans back and shifts forward again. Xiao Zhan is hard - he's gotten hard from kissing Yibo before, but it's never been like this. Never been in a situation where it could go any further and somehow, after weeks of kissing and flirting, he still hasn't been sure if Yibo wants it to go any further.

Yibo's taking it further tonight. Yibo's hard, too - Xiao Zhan can feel it against his hip - and he's not shy about it, not even trying to pretend he's not humping Xiao Zhan against the bed.

"Yibo," Xiao Zhan says. His voice is breathless, turned-on. "Hang on, just - hang on."

Yibo raises his head, props himself up on an elbow. His lips are red and wet, his eyes extremely hot. "Okay," he says agreeably. "What are we hanging on for?"

He's still got his dick pressed up against Xiao Zhan.

Xiao Zhan untangles his arms from around Yibo, scrubs his hands over his face. "You have to give me a minute," he says from behind his hands, laughing a little. "Or this is going to turn into more than you bargained for." He just needs to catch his breath in order to dial this back.

Yibo's hips hitch forward and Xiao Zhan has to bite back a gasp. "What did I bargain for, Zhan-ge?" he says.

When Xiao Zhan peeks at him from behind his fingers, Yibo's gaze is scorching and he's biting the corner of his lower lip. Xiao Zhan shakes his head a little. "You tell me, Wang Yibo."

Yibo hesitates for a second, and Xiao Zhan can almost see the wheels turning in his head. "This," he says, finally, as he bends his head and kisses Xiao Zhan again, hotly. "And this," he says, as he slowly and deliberately rocks his thigh against where Xiao Zhan is so, so fucking hard.

Xiao Zhan's breath stutters out of his chest.

"This," Yibo says again and slides his hands up Xiao Zhan's arms, drawing his hands up over his head and pinning them loosely against the bed. "You," he says against Xiao Zhan's ear.

Xiao Zhan's pulse is pounding so hard he wonders if Yibo can feel it where he's holding down Xiao Zhan's hands above his head. The position makes their bodies press together even more closely and the feel of Yibo's huge, warm hands holding him down is making it hard to catch his breath.

Yibo's watching him. His eyes are lidded as he looks at him, like he's waiting for something. Xiao Zhan's hips move up of their own accord. His breath is coming fast, and he's harder than he's ever been in his life. His brain is spinning and he's trying to keep it together, but when Yibo tightens his hold against his hands and presses down just a little, stars explode behind Xiao Zhan's eyes. He whines from somewhere deep in his chest.

Yibo's eyes flash and he's kissing Xiao Zhan again in the next second. They're off to the fucking races - there's no stopping this. They're kissing messy and hot. Yibo is moving against Xiao Zhan and the noises he's making are nearly enough, in and of themselves, to make Xiao Zhan come. Yibo's got his hands wrapped around Xiao Zhan's tightly now, pressing them hard against the bed, and fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, that's doing it for Xiao Zhan. It's doing it for him so hard.

"Yibo," he gasps against Yibo's lips.

Yibo moans frantically in return. He's rocking down against him, and everything between them is so hot, so close, so much. They kiss, and they kiss, and it feels like hours, like days, maybe, that they are just going at it.

There's no air in between them. Xiao Zhan is so fucking turned on. He's matching Yibo's movements, can't stop moving up against him, can't stop - god, he can't stop, he's going to - he's absolutely going to - "Fuck," he groans against Yibo's mouth. "Fuck, I'm - I'm -" His back arches, his hands struggling against where Yibo is holding him down so tight, and he's coming, shoving himself up against Yibo, wave after wave shuddering through him, shaking him to his core.

"Xiao Zhan," Yibo says, in a wrecked, hot voice. "That was...that was...you just...fuck." He's still looming over him. Xiao Zhan's a limp, sweaty mess and he can't stop looking at Yibo - his tight jaw, his eyes hot. Xiao Zhan knows his own face has to be open and ridiculous, but he's still buzzing with the orgasm and he can't shut it down.

Yibo's breath hitches for a second as he looks at him, then he drops his head against Xiao Zhan's shoulder, tightens his hands around Xiao Zhan's wrists, and surges forward with his hips. He's got his mouth against Xiao Zhan's neck and he's moaning so loud, so loud, so wild and hot. He's rocking against Xiao Zhan's hip and Xiao Zhan feels it the moment he loses the rhythm, when he gasps and trembles against Xiao Zhan for an endless series of moments before he cries out, shuddering as he comes.

It takes a bit for Yibo to come back to himself. When he releases Xiao Zhan's wrists and slowly rolls off of him, there are tingles throughout Xiao Zhan's arms and he's shaky as he brings his hands down to his chest. Yibo's on his back next to him and when Xiao Zhan tilts his head to look at him, he's panting up at the ceiling, his eyes closed. He looks pretty destroyed - his hair is sweaty and all over the place, his shirt is rucked up, and he has to be as uncomfortable in his pants as Xiao Zhan is.

He looks beautiful.

"That was -" Xiao Zhan starts, and then stops, because he's not sure what words he would use to talk about what that was. Dirty. Filthy. Hot. Amazing. He flexes his wrists a bit, still feeling what it was like to have Yibo's hands against them. Surprising.

Yibo blinks his eyes open, turning his head to look at Xiao Zhan in the overly bright light of the hotel room. He takes a deep breath, then another. "I want to do that again." he says. "Let's do that again."

Xiao Zhan starts giggling. Yibo's constantly surprising him. He thought he might be...he doesn't know - maybe a little freaked out? This is a lot further than they've gone before.

But instead, Yibo's pushing up on his elbows, his bangs flopping in his face, his cheeks flushed. The smile he's giving Xiao Zhan is both goofy and luminescent. He's reaching for Xiao Zhan, and Xiao Zhan is batting him away, still giggling. "Stop it, you child," he says. "Some of us have a longer refractory period than you!"

"What does refractory mean?" Yibo says, rolling half on top of Xiao Zhan, smiling down at him breathlessly. "Is it dirty?"

Xiao Zhan bats at him again, but he's laughing too hard to fight him. He leans up to press a kiss against Yibo's smile and Yibo makes a low sound in his throat that makes Xiao Zhan think his refractory period is maybe getting shorter. "You're impossible," he says softly against Yibo's lips.

Yibo lifts his head for a moment, looking down at him with hot, dark eyes. "You love it," he says.

Xiao Zhan's heart catches in his chest for a moment. All he can do is nod, and draw Yibo back down into the kiss.

***

The summer wears on and it's so hot, so scorchingly hot, all the time. Xiao Zhan's in a committed relationship with the air conditioning tubes in the interior sets - he's pledged his troth to one, he's pretty sure. He's sweating his body weight daily, thinner than he's ever been in his life. The on-set doctors are handing out salt tablets and water on the regular. It's an epically hot summer and Xiao Zhan sometimes wonders if they'll survive it.

Yibo seems outside of it all, usually. He sweats, but not like Xiao Zhan sweats. He always looks cool for the cameras, and hair and make-up don't have to constantly sop up the sweat off his face the way they do with Xiao Zhan. He has as many layers of robes, but he always seems to be fine.

"It's because you're a very young, small child," Xiao Zhan comments. They're somewhere in the woods, waiting for filming to start. It's hot. It's so hot. Xiao Zhan's eyelids are sweating. He moves his portable fan around to no avail. "You're a youngster who can survive anything, and I'm an old man who's going to die from this."

Yibo has a portable fan too, but he's holding it down by his side. He's leaning his shoulder against a tree as they wait, which is not something he usually does - he's consistently aware of how pristine his costume is supposed to be during filming. He doesn't respond to Xiao Zhan, just shakes his head a little.

Xiao Zhan moves his fan closer to his face, trying to somehow staunch the sweat that's just rolling off of him. "You're denying that you're a small child?" he asks. "Or that I'm an old man?" He's trying to get Yibo going, because Yibo has been sort of off all day. Too much filming, maybe, and not enough sleep. He'd still been teasing Xiao Zhan earlier, in hair and make-up, taking dumb pictures of him from terrible angles, making him laugh so hard he'd gotten in trouble with his make-up artist for messing up her work.

But he'd gotten quiet as the day went on. It's weird to not have Yibo constantly annoying him with chatter, constantly up in his space.

Yibo just shakes his head again, then stops, going very still and closing his eyes. Everyone else is scurrying around them on set, not paying them any attention, so no one else notices how pale Yibo's face has gone.

"Yibo." Xiao Zhan moves closer, touches his shoulder.

Yibo shakes his head again, his eyes still closed. The skin around his lips is tight and, Xiao Zhan thinks, tinged with green. He's got sweat running down his temples, worse even than Xiao Zhan, and he's breathing through his nose, shallowly. He really doesn't look good at all.

"Yibo, are you -"

The still-running fan drops from Yibo's hand. Xiao Zhan reaches out to grab his wrist. His pulse is jumping, rabbit-fast, under his fingers. Yibo's eyes flicker open and he looks desperate as he swallows, then drops to his knees, hanging onto the tree with one hand as he vomits onto the forest floor.

"Fuck, Yibo, are you okay?" It's a stupid question, because he's definitely not okay. Xiao Zhan grabs at his wig, holding it back even though it's almost certainly ruined. Yibo's hand is clenched against the tree and he's propping himself up on the ground with the other one, retching miserably.

Others from the cast and crew are noticing the issue now and Xiao Zhan does his best to block Yibo from view so he can at least throw up in private. He seems to be done for the moment - he spits one last time and stays there for a second, panting, before he pushes himself up and back. He tries to stand up but immediately falters and staggers. Xiao Zhan grabs his arms, lowers him to the ground on the other side of the tree.

They're surrounded by crew now and the director's PA is talking rapidly into his walkie. Xiao Zhan hears him say doctor and transport and quickly. He's crouched in front of Yibo, and he can't stop saying, "Are you okay? You're okay. It's going to be okay."

Yibo's skin is pasty pale and his breathing is shallow. He keeps blinking his eyes open to look up at Xiao Zhan, but then they sag closed and oh shit, Xiao Zhan thinks he might have passed out? But no, he's holding onto Xiao Zhan's hand in a loose grip and when Xiao Zhan squeezes his hand, he gets a small squeeze back.

He's made a million jokes about heat prostration but fuck, he thinks Yibo literally has heat prostration.

Xiao Zhan ends up getting jostled aside as the crew bustles in. They're getting Yibo on his feet just as a car edges in through the trees nearby. Yibo would hate being dragged along like that, but Xiao Zhan is just relieved he's getting help. He stands watching helplessly - he wants to go with him, get in the car alongside him, but he's got three scenes coming up and Director Chen is still on set and he knows he can't. He knows he can't.

He sees that Yibo's eyes are open and that he's nodding in response to some question from a crew member as someone helps him into the car. He's not looking for Xiao Zhan. He'll be fine, Xiao Zhan is sure. He'll be fine.

Filming continues and Xiao Zhan compartmentalizes and if it's not his best day on set ever, it's not his worst either. He keeps asking if there's any word about Yibo but no one has any straight answers. There's no signal in the forest, so he can't even text him.

Finally, the day is over and he's hustled back to hair and make-up, to lose the wig, to get rid of the fucking robes, to wash his goddamn face. No one there has any answers either but Yu Bin says he's heard that the set doctor sent Yibo directly to the hospital, no fucking around.

"Yeah, but he has to be back by now, right? He was sick but not, like..." Xiao Zhan doesn't finish the thought.

"I don't know, bro." Yu Bin is slinging a bag over his shoulder, getting ready to head out. "Heat prostration is no joke."

Xiao Zhan knows that. He knows that. He'd just never though Yibo would be the one to ever have anything go wrong with him.

He pulls his phone out and texts Yibo - thank fuck for wifi - and doesn't think until afterwards that maybe Yibo is asleep. But he gets an immediate response to his are you okay? text.

yeah but they're making me stay here. It blows.

Fuck, they're keeping him in the hospital? Xiao Zhan wants to hustle over there, but when he looks at the clock, it's nine at night - he's pretty sure they won't let him in. He texts fuck that's not great. What are they saying

nothing I'm fine There's three dots for a few seconds then dehydration, overheated, it's fine. They gave me an IV. I feel fine

But they won't let him leave, which means he's not fine. do what they say, didi he types back.

I have no choice is the immediate response. my manager's flying in from Beijing

Xiao Zhan bites his lip. That doesn't sound great. If Yibo's manager is taking the time to fly in, does that mean this is more serious that Yibo's making it out to be?

His phone buzzes in his hand. this is boring Yibo's said. And then send me a dick pic

Xiao Zhan's face gets hot even as he's bursting into surprised giggles. What a total brat! Guess he is feeling better. you're incorrigible he types.

I'm BORED Yibo shoots back immediately.

you're a menace Xiao Zhan sends back.

I'm HORNY Yibo types and Xiao Zhan is in equal amounts amused and turned on.

you're going to get us both in trouble with your manager he sends. get some rest, dummy

fuck you Yibo types and then orgasms make me fall asleep, you know

Xiao Zhan laughs. not sending you a dick pic

Yibo sends back a selfie of him doing a pouty-face. It's funny, but also he's in a hospital gown, and he looks terrible - well, terrible for Yibo. His face is still pale and drawn, his hair is lank, and he's got circles under his eyes that rival Xiao Zhan's.

Xiao Zhan studies the picture, chewing on his lip, and sends back you look like shit, didi. glad they're keeping you there.. And then get some REST. He snaps a quick, stern selfie and sends it over.

Yibo types back not the pic I was looking for but not bad, old man He sends another selfie, of himself yawning and giving the camera the finger, which Xiao Zhan takes as a sign he's going to take the advice and get some sleep. He sends back a selfie of him giving Yibo heart-fingers.

No response, and that's good. Xiao Zhan yawns, too, and heads out to grab the van back to the hotel.

***

Yibo's still off set the next day. Xiao Zhan shoots him a text the next morning, super early, but is hustled out to the land of no cell reception before he gets a response. It's another long, sticky day and he can't help but think that it's good that Yibo's manager flew in - someone needs to sit on that kid to keep him from killing himself.

He'd forgotten to plug his phone in overnight and when he digs it out of his bag in hair and make-up at the end of the day, it's completely dead. He doesn't have the wherewithal to bum a charger from anyone - he's just desperate to get out of there.

When he pushes open the door to his hotel room, it's to see Yibo lying sprawled facedown on his bed, playing some game on his phone. He rolls over onto his side when Xiao Zhan comes in and his grin is as scorching as the sun. "Zhan-ge," he says, and pats the bed beside him. "You're back!"

"You're back," Xiao Zhan says, dropping his bag on the floor and toeing off his shoes. "And you broke into my room."

"I didn't break in," Yibo says. "I stole your key last time."

Xiao Zhan has lost his room keycard so many times he can't count. He doesn't remember it happening recently, but then again, he wouldn't. So Yibo lifted it. He gives Yibo an arched eyebrow.

Yibo shrugs, not looking remotely sorry, and pats the bed again more insistently. Xiao Zhan yawns and sits down next to him. "How do you feel?" he says, absently reaching out to press the back of his hand against Yibo's forehead.

Yibo bats his hand away. "Oh my god, are you my mother?" he says incredulously. "I'm here, aren't I? I'm fine. It wasn't anything."

"You were hospitalized," Xiao Zhan says.

"For one night," Yibo says, rolling onto his back. "And only because my agent made me stay."

Xiao Zhan looks down at him, his hand on Yibo's where it rests on the bed. "You're an idiot," he says fondly. "I can't believe you were the one who got heat stroke."

"It wasn't heat stroke," Yibo insists.

Xiao Zhan tilts him a look.

"They got me to the hospital before it turned into heat stroke," Yibo says petulantly. "I was fine."

He'd apparently showered when he broke in to Xiao Zhan's room, because his hair is still damp, curling up a little at the ends, and he smells like Xiao Zhan's body wash. He looks better than he did in the picture from last night, but he's still got dark circles under his eyes. "Still," Xiao Zhan says, tightening his hand over Yibo's.

"It was just a dumb thing," Yibo says, turning his hand over and lacing his fingers with Xiao Zhan's.

"Still," Xiao Zhan says again. Yibo has the air conditioning cranked up and Xiao Zhan shivers a little. He lets Yibo tug him down, curling up next to him on the bed. Yibo immediately rolls over, resting his head on Xiao Zhan's chest and slinging his leg over him. He's a warm, solid weight and Xiao Zhan feels the tension of the day start to melt away.

He's got one arm wrapped around Yibo's shoulders, just hanging on. He lets his eyes close and slides his hand up to rest in the soft edges of Yibo's damp hair.

Yibo's head gets heavier against Xiao Zhan's chest, his breathing evening out. It's just them here, together. The hum of the air conditioning whirring, Yibo warm up against him.

It's quiet and it's weirdly somehow tender. Something catches in Xiao Zhan's chest, and he blinks his eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. His arm tightens around Yibo. Yibo makes a quiet sound against his chest, and curls up closer against him.

Xiao Zhan bites his lip, and lets his face press against Yibo's hair, breathing him in. He lets Yibo sleep for a long time.

***

The whole cast and crew are taking the opportunity to have an impromptu party in the hotel bar. They have a late start the next day, because they're doing a night shoot. There's only two more days of filming. They're almost at the end. Xiao Zhan keeps looking over the final filming schedule, and it's fucking intense - they're going to be wrung out and fucked up by the time this is over.

It keeps hitting him, over and over again, in his gut, how this is almost done. It doesn't seem real. It doesn't seem possible. He feels like they're all existing in this liminal state where this is what they do, this is where they live, and it's always going to be like this. They film, and they sweat; they fight, and they flirt. They show up on set and they give it their all, and they wake up the next day and they do it all over again.

It's been a hot, dizzy summer, all-encompassing and soaked with sweat, soaked with feelings. The closeness of the cast is palpable - he feels like they have been and always will be his brothers and sisters, though he knows that's not true. He's been through this before on other shows, other sets - he knows this closeness fades. It exists in the moment, in the bottle of time that is being on set, closer than family, closer than anything. When the return to the real world comes, outside of this, it changes. You can't capture it. You can't get it back.

Xiao Zhan wants to cling to this, tightly, hands aching as he tries to keep it close. The party is lit up with everyone going through the same thing. They all cluster close, draped over each other, half in each other's laps in chairs shoved up around the same tables, leaving half the space empty. They can't get away from each other. Xuan Lu has her arms wrapped around Yu Bin's neck as she perches in his lap, her head tilted against his, holding him close. Xiao Zhan knows they're just friends, knows they aren't fooling around, but the emotions among everyone bleeds over into feeling like it's more than that, more than just friendship. He watches as Xuan Lu shuts her eyes for more than a blink. When she opens them again, she casts a look around the table, like she's cataloguing all of their faces. Her lips are turned up in a helpless, endeared smile, but her eyes are a little shiny with tears.

Xiao Zhan has to blink back tears of his own. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, shaking his head across the table when Zhuocheng tilts his head at him, calling out, "You okay, bro? Shake it off! We're here to have a good time!"

Xiao Zhan tilts his bottle of beer towards him. "Never better," he says firmly, and it's true. It's true.

He drinks until he's buzzing perfectly and things shift back to the point where he can tamp down the swirling feelings in his gut, pulsing in the rhythm of it's over, over, over; soon soon soon. He focuses up, leans in, lets himself get lost in the wash of shouted conversation and high laughter and everyone clutching this close to their chests.

Yibo is as loose and relaxed as he's ever seen him. He's not exactly chatting as intently as everyone else is, but he's part of the party, and he's constantly brushing up against Xiao Zhan. His hand lands on his arm as he leans in to tell him something, his shoulder brushes up against him as he brings him another beer, his eyes are on him even when he's across the room.

Xiao Zhan abandons his beer half-drunk, pushing himself up from the table. He wanders off and he doesn't have to look back to know that Yibo's trailing along behind him. He knows people are going to notice, but he also knows no one will say anything.

He knows there's a short hallway that ends in an emergency exit door, just off to the side, around the corner from the bathrooms. He heads there and as soon as he turns around, Yibo's pressed up against him and kissing him deeply. Like he's been waiting all night for this. Like he knows that Xiao Zhan has been waiting, too. Xiao Zhan is grinning into the kiss - he can't help it; it feels amazing. Yibo is undone, bangs falling into his eyes, mouth hot and desperate.

Yibo moves his mouth to Xiao Zhan's neck and it's sending waves of heat throughout Xiao Zhan's body. He feels giddy with it. He's got his hands on Yibo's shoulders, clutching, and he says breathlessly, "So rude. So forward. It's against Lan Sect rules to be so forward."

Yibo growls against his neck, but Xiao Zhan thinks his lips are turning up in a smile. Yibo's pushing him up against the wall, and pressing his dick against his hip. Fuck, he gets hard so fast.

"It is," Xiao Zhan insists, even as he's hitching his hips forward. "It's against Lan Sect rule number...rule number..."

He can't come up with a number, he's just biting back moans. Yibo's mouth is so hot against his skin, he's into it, he's so into it. He's hitching his hips forward and pressing his head back against the wall. He's getting hard too, and he drags Yibo's head back up for more kissing. He needs more kissing.

Yibo's face is a picture - his lips are red and wet, his eyes are all pupil. When Xiao Zhan presses his hips forward again, just to push it a little, Yibo breathes out a moan. He's really, really hard against Xiao Zhan's hip now and Xiao Zhan is just buzzed enough to push his hand in between them, run his fingers over Yibo's hard-on through his pants.

Yibo's eyes go wide. "We have to get out of here," he says tightly.

They do. They really do. Xiao Zhan nods and starts to wrap his fingers around Yibo's wrist, but they can't do that. He can't drag him through the party like that, pull him through the hotel lobby in front of the world. This is Wang Yibo and it's all eyes on him, all of the time.

"C'mon," he says instead, squeezing his hand and pushing him away. "C'mon, let's -"

They skirt the edges of the party, walking behind tables, ducking behind potted plants. If people notice, no one cares enough to investigate what they're up to. The lobby is so brightly lit it feels like they've stepped out into sunshine. It should have a sobering effect but Xiao Zhan just feels more tipsy, like it's casting a light on everything inside him.

They have to wait forever for the elevator, standing next to each other, not touching. Not looking. Not talking. It feels insanely obvious but Xiao Zhan can't do anything about it. He's jiggling his foot and he's got his hands in his pockets to keep them from reaching out for Yibo.

The ding when the elevator gets there feels like it reverberates throughout his brain.

They hustle on and they're the only ones on the elevator but it feels so exposed, still. Yibo, looking resolutely forward at the shut doors, tilts his head up for just a second. Xiao Zhan tracks the look to the standard security camera in the corner.

He keeps his hands firmly to himself.

It seems to take forever to get to their floor. He's hyper aware of every time Yibo shifts his weight, hyper aware of his own breathing. Yibo is just standing next to him. He's not even doing anything. His sleeve brushes Xiao Zhan's arm and his whole body gets hot.

He might be dying. He might die here in this elevator.

It takes years, centuries to get to their floor and even then, it's taking every ounce of Xiao Zhan's willpower to not just shove Yibo up against the wall right there in the corridor. They get to the door of Xiao Zhan's room, finally. He struggles to get his key card out from his front pocket, but his dick is getting in the way, making everything too tight. He's so turned on his hands are shaking.

Yibo's right behind him, ghosting a hand over his back, close enough Xiao Zhan can feel his breath on his neck as he says, "Get the door open, Zhan-ge, get the fucking door open."

"Trying," he says, finally getting the card out and shoving it into the slot. The door doesn't click and the lock glows red. He groans, resting his forehead against the door as he yanks the card out to try again.

"I'm going to fuck you right here in the hallway if you don't get the fucking door open," Yibo says, his voice low and tense.

"Fuck." Xiao Zhan gets the card in the slot again. The light glows green and he shoves the door open with his whole body.

When Xiao Zhan turns around, Yibo is on him, kissing him, mouth hot and open and wet. He's driving him backwards into the room and Xiao Zhan's on board with that. He's so fucking on board with that.

He's shoving at Yibo's clothes, trying to get his pants open, trying to get at his dick. Yibo's getting in the way - he won't stop grasping at Xiao Zhan, trying to get his fingers under his shirt, inside his jeans. He's so annoying, he's so pushy, he - Xiao Zhan finally grabs his wrists firmly and turns him around, propelling him back until his back hits the wall.

He pins his hands against the wall next to his hips, leans into him, and kisses him. He grinds their hips together, and Yibo whimpers against his mouth, pressing forward. "Wang Yibo," Xiao Zhan manages to say. "Why are you like this?"

"What," Yibo gasps out, when Xiao Zhan releases his lips. "What, do you mean hot?"

"Please shut up," Xiao Zhan says, leaning one hand against the wall over Yibo's shoulder as he undoes Yibo's pants with the other.

"Do you mean, like, talented?" Yibo's still talking, even as Xiao Zhan gets his pants open and slides his hand inside, cupping his cock through his grey boxer briefs. "Do you mean -" he starts but cuts himself off as Xiao Zhan lets his hand slide up and then slip inside so he's holding Yibo's dick. "Oh fuck, fuck."

Xiao Zhan hasn't touched Yibo's dick before. It's an almost startling thought. Right now, his hand wrapped around it, where Yibo is hard and hot and leaking all over himself, it's so good. It's everything.

He means to say something teasing about Yibo being conceited, or annoying, or something, he really does. But what he says is, "I want your dick in my mouth."

Yibo sucks in a short, sharp breath. His head thunks against the wall as Xiao Zhan puts action to his words and sinks to his knees. Yibo's cursing up a storm above him as Xiao Zhan hooks his fingers into his boxer briefs and drags both them and his jeans down in one go. Yibo's dick is huge and hard and right fucking there, and Xiao Zhan can't wait anymore. He feels like he's been waiting all summer for this; feels like maybe he's been waiting his whole life for this.

When he takes him into his mouth, Yibo's hands clench around his shoulders and he finally falls quiet. Xiao Zhan is into this, he's so into the feel of Yibo's dick sliding over his tongue, the sharp taste of him filling his mouth. He's into the clutch of Yibo's hands on his shoulders, the short, smothered gasps coming from above.

He goes down deep, because he can, and Yibo gasps above him, high and sharp. Xiao Zhan can only do it for a moment, but it's a really good moment. And sliding back up is almost as good, the sound of Yibo's breath filling his ears, the thick head of Yibo's cock filling his mouth.

He wraps his hand around the base of Yibo's cock and pulls off for a second, jerking him off as he tilts his head up to look at Yibo. Yibo's looking at him, his head hanging down, mouth open. He looks hot and fucked up and turned on and Xiao Zhan just wants - god, he just wants -

He puts his mouth back on Yibo, sucking him slow and shallow as he moves his hand around the base of his dick. It's a difficult rhythm to maintain, but it gets easier when Yibo pushes his hands into Xiao Zhan's hair and starts fucking his mouth in a steady movement. Yibo matches the rhythm of his hips to the pace of Xiao Zhan's hand around his cock and it's perfect.

Yibo's leaking steadily against his tongue and it tastes so good. He's making noises again - sharp cries, almost sobs. His hands are pulling harder against Xiao Zhan's hair and his thrusts are shorter. He's almost there, he's so close; Xiao Zhan can feel the swell of his cock as he gets closer and closer. Then Yibo's crying out, so loud, too loud, exactly perfect, exactly what Xiao Zhan wants to hear. He's coming, hard and hot and salty, against Xiao Zhan's tongue. Xiao Zhan swallows it down, greedy, helpless, lost in the feel of it, the taste of it.

He actually whines a little, in his throat, when Yibo loosens his hold on his hair. It would be embarrassing but he's far past caring. He pushes himself up and Yibo's hands are on him, urging him to his feet. He's kissing Yibo as soon as he's standing, surging forward - he needs it, he needs it.

Yibo's arms wind around him and he's leaning into the kiss, tongue licking into his mouth, like he's chasing the - oh.

"Is that what I taste like?" Yibo says. "Oh. Oh."

It sends a frisson of heat through Xiao Zhan's entire body. He's so fucking hard. "I need," he says against Yibo's mouth, wrapping his hands around Yibo's shirt, dragging him forward. "I need...I just need...I - "

Yibo propels them back, gets them onto the bed. Yibo kicks his pants and boxer briefs off in one movement, taking his socks off at the same time. Xiao Zhan is, he thinks, whimpering a little as he shoves Yibo's shirt up and off, even as Yibo is struggling to get Xiao Zhan's belt undone, his jeans open. It seems to take forever, but the clothes are finally gone and Xiao Zhan has his hands on Yibo.

They roll around on the bed and they're kissing, but it's so much, there's so much skin, there's so much to touch. Xiao Zhan isn't even sure where to start. Yibo turns onto his back and pulls Xiao Zhan on top of him. Xiao Zhan groans as he presses his dick against Yibo's smooth hip. He rolls his hips forward and it's good, it's so good. Yibo's got his hands on his ass, dragging him forward, lifting his head, his mouth, open and wet, searching for more kisses.

Xiao Zhan's hips move forward again. YIbo is so beautiful like this - wrecked, undone. Xiao Zhan wants - he wants -

He makes himself take a breath, and then another one, before he lifts his head and blinks down at Yibo.

"What," Yibo pants. "What, what? C'mere, Zhan-ge, I need -"

"Wait," Xiao Zhan manages. "Listen, listen. Can we..." He takes a breath, his brain whirling, his dick so hard he can't think straight. "I want to..." He doesn't know why this is so hard - he's said a million dirty things to Yibo, done so many dirty things to Yibo. He just had Yibo's dick in his mouth, but this feels - this feels -

"Fuck me," Yibo says breathlessly, rolling his hips up against Xiao Zhan's dick, staring up at him with such intensity that Xiao Zhan has to close his eyes and suck in a breath. "Please, Xiao Zhan, I want you to fuck me."

That sends a rush of heat so strong throughout Xiao Zhan's entire body that he feels like he could come just from hearing it. He drops his head against Yibo's shoulder with a shaky laugh and his hips push forward again without him even meaning them to.

Yibo's not laughing. Yibo's biting at Xiao Zhan's shoulder, making small, desperate noises. Yibo's getting hard again under Xiao Zhan's hip.

"Do you have -" Yibo mumbles frantically against his skin.

Xiao Zhan does. Xiao Zhan does, because nothing about this entire summer has gone in a way he's been able to predict, but he thought that maybe, maybe, they were going to end up here at some point. He has to pull himself away from Yibo to go get the stuff. Yibo huffs out a breath,and reaches after him, trying to drag him back.

Xiao Zhan bats his hands away with a giggle and pads quickly to the bathroom to grab the condoms and lube from where he stashed them in his bathroom kit (no way he was going to leave them in the bedside table, not with his room filled with rowdy cast members with no sense of personal space on a regular basis).

When he comes back, Yibo is on his back, his hand wrapped around his hard dick. He looks so fucking pretty that Xiao Zhan has to stop for a second just to look at him.

"Come here." Yibo's looking up at him. "Come here."

Xiao Zhan does. He climbs back into bed next to Yibo, slides his hand into his hair, and then he's kissing him as best he knows how. Yibo sinks back on the bed, drawing Xiao Zhan down with him. Xiao Zhan breaks off, because he has to ask. He knows he has to. "Yibo."

Yibo moans and tries to bring him back.

"Yibo," Xiao Zhan says more intently. "You've - hmm." He takes a breath. "You've never done...this before, right?" He's pretty sure. They've been moving so slow all summer, all things considered. He is fairly sure.

Yibo rocks his head back and forth against the bed. "No," he says, and he doesn't sound shy, or embarrassed. He sounds excited.

The tone goes straight to Xiao Zhan's dick.

"No," Yibo says again, looking up at him, eyes bright and hot. "Not this."

Xiao Zhan's breath stutters in his chest. He knew, but somehow the confirmation is just going straight to the heart of him. "But - the other stuff," he says carefully, thinking he should have maybe checked before now. "The - that," he says, gesturing over at the wall, where he'd just blown Yibo, sucked him down, swallowed his come.

Yibo's nodding. "I'm not a baby, Zhan-ge," he says, a little scoffing. "I - yes. Handjobs, blowjobs, yeah. Just not -" He stops, and an absolutely wicked smile spreads across his face. "Just not -" he says again, wrapping his hand around Xiao Zhan's dick.

Xiao Zhan can't stop his hips from pushing forward. He's been hard for a thousand years. He wants to fuck Yibo through the mattress. And Yibo seems to very much want that too.

"Okay," he says. "Okay, I - okay." He's going to keep it together. He's going to do this slow and steady and right, no matter how much his entire body just wants to lead with his dick. "C'mere," he says, his voice coming out husky. "Turn over."

Yibo does.

Fingering Yibo open is a revelation. Yibo's body opens up to him shockingly easily after the first few moments. Yibo has his face buried against the bed, hips moving against Xiao Zhan's hand, asking for more. Xiao Zhan makes them take their time, works him until they're both soaked with sweat, until Yibo's shaking underneath him. Xiao Zhan pushes his fingers in, and over again, searching for it, angling for it.

He catches Yibo's hip with one hand as he finds it. Yibo cries out in a high, shocked voice, his hands clenched against the covers. "Oh fuck," he pants out. "Oh - Zhan-ge, fuck - fuck - fuck -"

He's sweating, his back arched up, and he's begging for it, over and over. Xiao Zhan can't take it. Yibo moans as Xiao Zhan pulls his fingers out, stays where he is, head sagging between his shoulders, his breath coming in gasps.

Xiao Zhan gets the condom on as quickly as possible before putting his hands on Yibo's hips, urging him onto his back.

Yibo goes over easily. His jaw is tense, his eyes wide, as he reaches up for Xiao Zhan.

"The other way is usually easier," Xiao Zhan pants out, "but I think - I think you can - I want to see you like this - like this."

He pushes Yibo's legs up, hooks them over his shoulders. Yibo is so flexible, has so much control, even now, that it's easy, it's so easy. "I can't wait anymore," Xiao Zhan says, pressing forward. "I can't - I have to -"

"Please." Yibo's voice is rough. "Oh, please, please."

When Xiao Zhan goes in, Yibo's body, slick with lube and sweat, opens to him immediately. Like he was made for this, and maybe he was. He's so hot, curled up around Xiao Zhan, his head thrown back, sweat gathered in the dip of his throat. Xiao Zhan takes it as slow as he can, but when he's as deep inside Yibo as he can go, everything stutters out of control. He can't stop the movement of his hips as he pulls out and goes back in as deep as he can. He's not slamming in, but he's on the very edge of his control. His whole body just wants to move forward into Yibo.

"Yeah," Yibo's saying, over and over again, like a chant, like a promise. "Yeah, oh god, oh fuck, yeah."

Xiao Zhan can't stop. He's fucking Yibo, fast and hard. He's trembling, his arms barely holding him up, but he's fine; he can fuck him forever, he wants to fuck him forever. Wants to be inside Yibo always, wants the feel of Yibo frantic and hot around him, wants the sound of Yibo's needy, breaking shouts as Xiao Zhan fucks him deeper, harder.

"Fuck," Yibo's saying, the corner of his lip caught in his teeth. "Fuck, fuck."

Xiao Zhan comes up with some feat of strength and presses Yibo's legs further back, changes the angle, finding the perfect rhythm, oh.

Yibo's shaking, and shaking, and then he's crying out and coming, in hot spurts in between them. He's not even touching himself - neither one of them has the control to reach in between - he's coming just from Xiao Zhan's dick inside him and the zing of pure, insane pride Xiao Zhan feels is a rush. Yibo's face as he comes is one of absolute glowing ecstasy.

Yibo's clutching at Xiao Zhan, as Xiao Zhan keeps driving forward. He's chasing it now, he wants it so much. Everything narrows down to the feel of Yibo around him, the pressure of Yibo's hands against him, the look in Yibo's eyes as he stares up at him, like he's memorizing him. Xiao Zhan rocks in, and in. He's so close, his whole body is tight as a bowstring. He wants to come, he wants to come, he's going to -

He comes with a shock of white lightning behind his eyes, bottoming out in Yibo, staying in deep as he pulses inside him. He's shaking and he can't stop; can't stop coming. It's one of those orgasms that comes in waves and aftershocks, rolling through his whole body over and over again.

His arms give out when he's finally done. He collapses against Yibo, his mouth pressed against Yibo's shoulder. Everything in between them is a slick mess. He loves it.

It takes Xiao Zhan longer than it should to come back to himself. He pulls out carefully, Yibo making a small sound as he does so. Xiao Zhan's entire body is sore as he staggers off the bed to get rid of the condom, to get something to clean them up, but Yibo lowers his legs easily, like he's not been bent in half, not been fucked through the mattress.

Xiao Zhan, when he does this face to face, has to do, like, stretches in order to prepare and he's still ended up with a muscle spasm at least once.

Yibo does wince slightly when he rolls up on his side as Xiao Zhan comes back with some towels and damp cloths.

Xiao Zhan knows that ache really well, too.

The clean-up part can be awkward, but they end up cracking up, rolling around as Yibo tries to escape the washcloth, yelping as Xiao Zhan shoves it between his thighs.

They finally get things sorted out, and end up curling up together under the covers. Xiao Zhan keeps yawning - he can barely keep his eyes open - and Yibo grins at him as he reaches over and shuts off the bedside lamp. They're cloaked in dimness, curled up next to each other, looking at each other in the darkness. Yibo edges closer, slings one leg over Xiao Zhan. It's a good weight on him and he sighs a little bit.

"Sleepy?" Yibo asks. Then he gives a big yawn too and they both giggle a little bit at each other. The air conditioning kicks on and Xiao Zhan tugs the covers up over his shoulders a little more tightly. He wants to kiss Yibo again. He wants to draw him in closer. He wants so much. He holds himself still, his hands tucked under his head, and lets his eyes slide closed. Yibo's leg turns into a heavier weight on top of him as Yibo also sinks into sleep.

***

It was just a summer thing. It was a long, weird, hot summer, and of course they'd lose the thread during it; of course the drift and blur of characters would bleed over into their lives. It was something that happened sometimes. As that long, scorching summer came to a close, Xiao Zhan told himself, over and over, that it was just a summer thing. He told himself that until he believed it.

Ten months is a very long time to get over something. And he has gotten over it, absolutely. He barely even thinks about it anymore and when he does, it's about what a good summer it was, how lucky he'd been to be cast as Wei Wuxian, how close he'd gotten with so many of the cast members. And sometimes how he was glad to have had the chance to have a summer fling with Wang Yibo. How many people could say that?

He's totally convinced himself it was a summer fling. But right now, nearly a year later, backstage at Happy Camp with Yibo's hand down his pants, he thinks he might have gotten it wrong.

Yibo's hand is around his dick, making his knees tremble. Yibo pushes him back until his legs hit the make-up table. "We've got to be quick," Yibo says, as he pulls Xiao Zhan's dick out of his boxer briefs.

"That's not going to be a problem," Xiao Zhan says breathlessly, bracing his hands behind him on the table. He's incredibly hard and Yibo's hand is huge and hot around him, jerking him off in a different rhythm than the one Xiao Zhan uses on himself. It's making Xiao Zhan's toes curl. His shoes are slipping on the floor, he can't find purchase. Yibo is so close to him and Xiao Zhan's head is spinning as he breathes him in. He'd told himself he'd forgotten what Yibo smells like, but he hasn't. He hasn't.

"Gonna come, Zhan-ge?" Yibo's breath is hot against his ear. "Come on. I want to feel it." He's moving his hand in that amazing rhythm, driving Xiao Zhan closer and closer.

Xiao Zhan makes a sound in his throat, and Yibo huffs out a laugh. "Have to be quiet," he says, and his voice is intent. "Can you be quiet?"

Xiao Zhan nods and blinks his eyes open. Yibo is watching him as he works his dick. Xiao Zhan nods again, but he's not sure he actually can be quiet. He brings one hand up to Yibo's head, presses his mouth against Yibo's neck, making small, desperate noises that he's hoping are swallowed up by Yibo's skin. He's shoving forward into Yibo's hand and he's so close. He's so close. Yibo's holding the rhythm and it's so good, it's perfect, it's - Xiao Zhan moans desperately as everything coils up deep in his belly and he comes, hard and hot. He's swallowing the sounds as best he can, his mouth still up against Yibo's neck, messy and wet.

The aftershocks go through him for a while. When Yibo finally pulls back, Xiao Zhan's knees are still trembling. His shirt is soaked through at the small of his back and under his arms.

Yibo's glancing around and grabbing some tissues from the counter. He wipes off his hand and nudges the box towards Xiao Zhan.

Yibo glances down at himself and Xiao Zhan winces - he's definitely got spatters of come on the front of his black jeans. And he's definitely still hard.

Yibo shakes his head, his grin huge and bright. He wipes at the front of his jeans ineffectively. "Should have gone down on you instead," he says. "At least then I could have swallowed."

Xiao Zhan's still fuck-dumb enough that all he can do is stare at Yibo. He'd just stroked Xiao Zhan off for the first time in ten months and they haven't even kissed yet.

Yibo glances up at him and his eyes are both hot and mischievous. "Hi, Zhan-ge," he says softly. "It's nice to be working together again."

Xiao Zhan laughs shakily as he cleans himself up, tucks himself away. "Master of the understatement," he manages to say, his brain still whirling. "It's been a while, didi."

He's reaching for Yibo, but Yibo shakes his head, tugging his overshirt forward and buttoning it up so it largely hides the stains. And the hard-on. "We should get out of here." He pulls his phone out of his pocket, thumbs quickly through his messages. "My car's here." He palms the front of his jeans, taking in a deep breath through his nose. "We're at Sina tomorrow, yeah?" he says, looking at Xiao Zhan intently.

Xiao Zhan pushes himself up from the dressing table and nods. "We're booked on the same train," he says. He'd been thinking about that train ride, thinking about being able to catch up. He had not been thinking about locked dressing rooms and Yibo's quick, dirty smiles and huge, hot hands.

"Cool," Yibo says in English, sliding his phone back in his pocket. "Okay, I'll go first."

He shoots Xiao Zhan a grin as he slips out the door. Xiao Zhan is left with his heart still pounding in his ears, in a dressing room that smells like sex. It takes him several long moments before he can push himself off the table and head out to find his own car.

***

They do end up talking on the train. They have a private car - it's just them and various staff and also bodyguards. Xiao Zhan is still not used to that - he'd seen what Yibo went through when they were filming, but that was Wang Yibo. The sudden, startling celebrity that's happening right now to Xiao Zhan is something he's still processing. The show only started airing last month. He can't quite grasp how it happened so fast. He can't go anywhere or do anything without being recognized.

"It doesn't help that you're so tall, gege." Yibo's sprawled in the seat next to Xiao Zhan, legs spread wide, so his knee is nudging up against Xiao Zhan's. "You stand out in a crowd."

Xiao Zhan makes a face and presses his knee against Yibo's as he stares out the window at the scenery whizzing by. He knows Yibo's looking at him - he can feel his eyes on him. He doesn't look back. They're on a train, in a car full of people - honestly, privacy isn't a thing for either of them anymore.

Even though it feels like it. Here with the two of them in a pair of high-backed seats, it feels secluded. Even though, as Xiao Zhan has learned from any number of photos he's seen of himself on the internet that he'd had no idea were being taken, it definitely isn't.

Yibo shifts again, restlessly, and says, "It gets better, you know."

Xiao Zhan tilts him a look.

Yibo shrugs one shoulder. "You get used to it."

Xiao Zhan says, "You got used to it a long time ago. I got famous, like, three weeks ago." It doesn't feel like an exaggeration - he feels like he's been behind on everything since he started out with XNINE. It feels like he's never going to catch up.

"Told you you would." Yibo's smile is broad.

He had. He had told Xiao Zhan that this was going to be the break for him, that if the show took off, it would be Xiao Zhan who would blow everyone out of the water. Xiao Zhan didn't take that to heart back then - they didn't even know if anyone would watch it, didn't know if it was going to be successful. It's early days yet, but it looks like Yibo's been proven right.

Xiao Zhan shrugs, frowning. "You didn't know."

"I did," Yibo says with all confidence. "I was watching you, gege. You were amazing."

"You were amazing," Xiao Zhan shoots back.

The grin that spreads across Yibo's face isn't exactly smug. That's not the right word. Yibo's not a smug person, he just - he knows when he's doing well and he knows he did well on the show. Xiao Zhan studies the stupid, wide grin and wonders at the casting director who saw his ability to play the reserved Lan Wangji. He'd seen Yibo make the transformation over and over again and it blew him away every time.

He's back, suddenly, in that long, hot summer. The feel of it, the intensity - the sweat and work and scent of it, and Yibo woven through the whole thing. Do you remember last summer? he wants to say. It's dumb; of course Yibo remembers last summer. It's what they're doing everything for right now. But ten months feels like a lifetime ago.

Or it did up until Yibo crowded after him into the dressing room yesterday and jerked him off like he'd been in training for it.

They hadn't really seen or spoken to each other much, since filming ended. Yibo had come to celebrate Xiao Zhan's birthday last fall, sure, but even that feels like eons ago, now. Occasional Weibo posts. Some texting but not a whole lot. They went from being in each other's pockets all day to...next to nothing. Xiao Zhan tells himself it's just the same as what happens on set with a close-knit crew all the time. It's like being in the trenches together, but when it's done, it's done.

He thought it was done, the thing between him and Yibo. It had felt done, even though they hadn't really talked about it. It had felt like a time-and-place sort of thing. He'd started and stopped three texts to Yibo last night after he'd come home (and after he'd jerked off, thinking about Yibo slipping out of the dressing room with a hard-on, and covered in Xiao Zhan's come).

why didn't we talk - I meant to say

is this a thing? Are we a

what does this mean, do you

He'd deleted all of them, and just sat staring at the screen on his phone for a long time.

Now, with Yibo's knee pressed against his as the train races along the track under them, Yibo smiling at him as bright as the sun, he thinks maybe they're still in this. Were they always still in this? Ten months is a long time to exchange casual hellos on social media and not a whole lot more.

He opens his mouth to say something, to ask, then shuts it again. He's learned, in recent weeks, that someone is always listening. This isn't the place.

"Look," Yibo says, pointing out the window. He leans forward across Xiao Zhan to peer out at the scenery racing by. His hand lands on Xiao Zhan's knee, a warm weight. Xiao Zhan tilts his head, looks out the window too. Yibo's close enough that he can smell his shampoo. Xiao Zhan takes a deep breath and shifts a little. It doesn't dislodge Yibo's hand and he leans close for a few minutes, taking in the swiftly shifting scenery as the train races towards Sina headquarters, back home in Beijing.

***

The day at Sina is a lot. It's a long one and Xiao Zhan definitely feels a little bit like they're animals in a zoo throughout it. It's such a strange setting to have all eyes on them. They're in the middle of a wide, open-plan office, everyone asking Xiao Zhan and Yibo to do ridiculous things that feel, weirdly, more exposed than when they had to do similarly ridiculous things for interviews on set. Somehow being in costume as Wei Wuxian made the questions, tasks, and silly challenges seem less personal.

Yibo doesn't seem to mind. Yibo seems to consistently forget - or just doesn't give a fuck - that an untold number of cameras are on them, that they're in view of dozens of employees, and that they are not alone. He seems like he's just genuinely having fun, or at least that he doesn't mind what's going on. He's in Xiao Zhan's space the entire day and Xiao Zhan can't even do anything about it, because he feels like nudging him away will just call more attention to it. He's exhausted by the end of the day and his mind is running in a million different directions.

Yibo doesn't get antsy until it's almost over. They're done with the official part, but Xiao Zhan's still got a bunch of pictures to sign (Yibo finished his set first) and even through the closed door and clear walls of the conference room, he can hear cameras clicking continuously.

Yibo sighs and shifts beside him. "Are you done? I'm so bored."

"Almost done." Xiao Zhan's carefully signing his name, as quickly as he can. He wants to get out of here too. He feels like an animal in a cage. When he finishes, neatly stacking the pictures before he gets up, Yibo pushes himself off the wall immediately. His hands are tucked into his pockets and he keeps using his shoulder to nudge Xiao Zhan ahead of him as he practically speed-walks out the door.

They're in the back of the van to the hotel - finally, finally. They're each on the phone to their respective managers about the scheduled Tianjin fan meet the day after tomorrow for almost the whole ride back. Yibo's only half-paying attention, it's pretty clear. His knee is jiggling constantly and he keeps glancing at Xiao Zhan and looking away. It's not subtle. It's nowhere near subtle.

Xiao Zhan's as tense as he's ever been. He's tired, his contacts are killing his eyes, and his shoulders feel like they're up around his ears, he's so wound up. He pastes on a smile as the bodyguards hustle them out of the car and into the hotel - how did the fans find the hotel so quickly? They hadn't even checked in this morning; their bags were dropped off while they got through the endless day at Sina. How do they know?

They're rushed through the lobby and onto the elevator, crowded in with staff and bodyguards. Every fiber of Xiao Zhan's body feels on edge. He keeps closing his eyes for longer than a blink, trying to block it all out.

They get to their floor and the staff guide them in different directions. Xiao Zhan feels a pang - Yibo went through this with him today. He wants to see him, wants to know if he feels as wrecked as Xiao Zhan does. He gets to his room and his assistant - he should know her name, he knows he knew her name at one point - hands him a key card. He bows to her, trying to smile with real warmth in his eyes. The bow he gets back comes with a sympathetic grimace, so he guesses he didn't quite nail it.

He shuts the door after he goes in and sags back against it, pressing his hands over his face. He needs to take his contacts out. He needs to take a shower. He needs to be in a sensory deprivation tank.

When there's a quiet knock at the door behind him, his heart stutters in his chest. He tells himself it's not Yibo. Yibo's probably still surrounded by assistants and phone calls. It's probably not Yibo.

When he rolls himself off the door and opens it, it's one hundred percent Yibo. He scoots inside quickly, presses the door shut behind him. Xiao Zhan can't do anything but look at him - it feels like it's the first time he's seeing him, really seeing him, all day. It feels like it's the first time he's really seeing him in ten months. Yibo's got his eyes on him too, intense and focused.

When he wraps his hands around Xiao Zhan's arms, he feels the sharp, staccato tension that's been running through him dissipate almost immediately. He's able to take a deep breath and when he lets it out, it comes out shaky. He knows he should try to laugh it off but he can't even manage a smile. He just lets his head drop forward to rest against Yibo's shoulder, shutting his eyes. That feels even better.

Yibo wraps his arms around him, holding him tight. Xiao Zhan isn't sure how long they stay there. He honestly doesn't even know what time it is. He knows it was still light out when they got out of the van and that the room is dimming around them now. He takes a breath and then one more. Yibo's arms tighten around him for a second then loosen as Xiao Zhan pushes himself back. He looks at Yibo. "I can't believe we have to leave for fucking Tianjin tomorrow."

Yibo laughs. "That's tomorrow," he says firmly. "That's not right now."

"Right." Xiao Zhan starts to rub his eyes again then stops, wincing. "I've got to take my contacts out," he says tiredly. "Everything hurts." He starts to head to the bathroom then stops, turns around to look at Yibo. "Stay?" he says. He feels like he shouldn't be asking but time has tilted and they've slid back to last summer without meaning to.

Xiao Zhan of last summer, though, wouldn't have even had to ask.

Yibo's already toed his shoes off and flopped down on the bed. "Of course," he says.

Xiao Zhan closes himself in the bathroom. He starts the shower so it will get hot then takes out his contacts, almost moaning in relief. He puts in eye drops, shoves all of his clothes off, and climbs in the shower. He keeps nudging the controls up, hotter and hotter, like he can scald the day off of himself.

He pokes at his pile of clothes with his toe when he gets out - he definitely made an error in judgment by not bringing something to change into. He can't bear the idea of putting the sweaty clothes back on. He ends up coming back out with damp hair falling into his eyes, with a towel wrapped around his waist.

Yibo looks up from his phone and does the thing where he licks the side of his mouth and bites his lip as he slides forward to the edge of the bed. Xiao Zhan knows the lip-lick thing is absolutely just a nervous tic that Yibo has, but it looks both gentle and scorching hot when he does it.

He knows they should talk. They should absolutely talk. But his brain is done with talking for the day. He feels buzzed, blurred - from the heat of the shower, from the long day. From the travel and the distance and the confused haze of the last week, the last few months, the last year.

Yibo's sitting with his legs spread wide, still in his clothes from the day - the black button down and loose black dress pants. He still looks sharp, somehow, still looks put together in a way that Xiao Zhan hasn't felt all day. He's got his hands resting loosely on his thighs, his phone discarded behind him on the bed. He's watching Xiao Zhan, looking up at him carefully. "We don't have to -" he starts, his voice low and earnest.

Xiao Zhan steps forward between his legs, sliding his hands into Yibo's hair. "I want to," he says. His heart is beating a little fast and steady - he still feels logy and slow from the heat of the shower, but it's hitting this beat of slow certainty. He just wants to stop thinking about things, even for a little while.

He bends forward and kisses Yibo for the first time in nearly a year. He lets himself get lost in it, lets it linger on, his hands tangled in Yibo's hair. Yibo's hands span his hips over the damp towel, holding him steady, holding him close. Xiao Zhan had been wondering if he'd remembered what the kisses were really like. It turns out he hadn't. It turns out that the memory of what it was like is a whole different world from what it actually is like to have Yibo's mouth on his, to have Yibo making small noises of want and need as he kisses him. To have Yibo's tongue sliding against his lips, pushing inside, kissing him so hot and wet that Xiao Zhan's knees tremble, his whole body shuddering with it.

Yibo pulls him forward, tumbling him down and to the side, so he's on his back on the bed. Xiao Zhan wants this. He needs this. The towel has come undone and he whines in his throat as Yibo rolls over and scoots lower, pushing Xiao Zhan's legs apart. He's holding Xiao Zhan's hips down with his hands and he looks up at him for a long moment before he ducks his head and slides his mouth over Xiao Zhan's dick.

Xiao Zhan's hips want to move but they can't - Yibo's holding him down firmly while he sucks him. He's taking Xiao Zhan down deep and he's doing it easily, surely, like he's made for this. His mouth is hot and wet and he's got a rhythm going quickly. Xiao Zhan's panting up at the ceiling, his eyes screwed shut, stars shooting behind his eyelids. He's desperate for this; he needs this. Yibo's hot mouth on him is something he's been thinking about since the dressing room yesterday. Maybe something he's been thinking about since last summer.

He's close incredibly fast, moaning too loudly up at the ceiling, hips still trying to move against Yibo's close grip. Xiao Zhan's picturing the marks Yibo's leaving on his hips, wants that, wants Yibo to hold him tight enough to bruise. He slings his arm over his face, biting at his forearm as he sobs out breath after breath. He needs to come, he needs it, he needs to come so bad, he -

He can't even warn Yibo, though his choking sobs ratcheting up probably give him some clue. Everything in Xiao Zhan's body tenses up and he cries out, way too loud, as he trembles and comes in Yibo's mouth.

He blinks his eyes open finally and moves his arm, tilting his head to look down at Yibo. Yibo, who's looking pleased as hell as he wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. Xiao Zhan's heart is still thundering in his chest. He doesn't usually come from just a blowjob - he usually needs at least a hand around his dick, as well, or to be getting fingered, too. "That was -" he starts, and then stops, because there aren't words for what that was - or maybe there are too many words. "I needed that," he ends up saying.

Yibo's still fully dressed, sprawled between his thighs, hands still braced on his hips, but looser now. Yibo studies him for a handful of seconds, running his fingers over Xiao Zhan's sides, then tilts his head down and bites sharply at his hip.

Xiao Zhan gasps, heat running through his whole body at the feel of Yibo's teeth digging in. His hands clench against the sheets. He couldn't get hard again this soon, but his dick definitely gives a twitch.

Yibo runs his tongue over the spot where he'd just bitten him. Xiao Zhan feels like his pulse is beating right there, under the skin.

He puts his hand on Yibo's head, feels Yibo press a soft kiss against the same spot. They stay like that for a while, before Yibo pushes himself up, stripping out of his clothes and moving up to kiss Xiao Zhan. He kisses him again and again, while he moves his dick against his belly, his hip, until he comes with a soft gasp. He's a heavy weight over Xiao Zhan afterwards and Xiao Zhan lets himself push his fingers into Yibo's hair again, holding him close for a long time.

***

There is, in fact, a mark on Xiao Zhan's hip from Yibo's bite - he sees it the next morning when he steps out of the shower. It's small, but it's dark, a blueish-purple spot right where his hip bone juts out. He touches it, staring at it in the slightly foggy mirror. Then he bites his lip and presses down. The dull ache of the spot sends a rush of heat through him.

They travel together to Tianjin the next day and Xiao Zhan can't stop shifting in his seat, can't stop letting his fingers press against his hip over his jeans. Yibo's quiet beside him but he looks at him more than once, like he knows exactly what has Xiao Zhan so distracted.

Over the course of the next few weeks of fan meets, shows, and press, Yibo gets spoken to by more than one photographer throughout various sessions for not facing the camera enough; they can only get his profile because he's only ever looking at Xiao Zhan. Yibo, who's so good about being professional, who's so aware of what everything looks like, doesn't seem to give one single fuck about the fact that he's only got eyes for Xiao Zhan.

Xiao Zhan is hyper aware of how many people are looking at them at all times, at how everything they do is being catalogued and recorded. It's gotten more and more intense as the popularity of the show has ramped up but by the trip for the fan meet in Thailand, it feels like it's reached a fever pitch. He's at his most comfortable around Yibo and that means he has to be at his most careful around Yibo when they're in public.

Yibo's not careful with him. He leans his hand on his shoulder as he moves close to whisper in Xiao Zhan's ear on stage. It's nothing that couldn't have waited. "I want to show you this video tonight," he murmurs. "It's this cool motorcycle rally - I have to try this one move."

Xiao Zhan knows exactly what Yibo's doing - he's bored and he just doesn't care. And honestly, they're not the ones being asked questions right now. But they're on stage, they're being looked at and studied. Even though he can't help the grin that slides across his face, he tries very hard to keep space between their shoulders.

"Later," he murmurs. "I'll watch your motorcycle thing later."

Yibo smiles a little and shoves his shoulder against Xiao Zhan's. It takes all of Xiao Zhan's strength to not shove back. He shifts away a little, then thinks that maybe even that is something the fans are going to study and wonder about. He schools his face back to interested professionalism over and over, but Yibo will nudge his shoulder again, or grin at him, and Xiao Zhan can't help but grin back, even though he knows he shouldn't be encouraging the behavior.

Xiao Zhan drinks too much champagne at the afterparty of the Thai fan meet. He's not drunk, exactly, but he's not sober, either. He's made the rounds of the room, he's met and chatted with and bowed to all of the necessary people, and every single time he's turned around, Yibo's eyes have been on him. From across the room, where Yibo's agent is introducing him to some important person and Yibo is definitely only half-paying attention; from by the bar where he's getting a beer; from very nearby as he brushes by him on the way to some other group waving him over.

It's distracting and it's exhilarating and it's taking all of Xiao Zhan's focus to keep from staring back. He knows he has a bunch of conversations but he's unsure what they're about. He knows it feels like they've been there for hours when Yibo sidles up beside him and presses another glass of champagne into his hand. Because of course he's paid attention to what Xiao Zhan's been drinking. "Cheers, gege," he says and clinks Xiao Zhan's delicate champagne flute with his own glass of beer.

Xiao Zhan takes a sip but he's zoning out on Yibo's hand, wrapped around the beer glass, encompassing it. He lets his gaze wander up to Yibo's face and Yibo's eyes are smiling at him over the rim of the glass.

"See something you like?" Yibo says softly as he lowers the glass. His grin is a little tilted and it's silly, playing off the really ridiculous line he just gave Xiao Zhan.

He's clearly been styled for this event - he's got on snug black jeans paired with big heavy boots and a sharply cut black suit jacket over a shirt that's dark blue and quite, quite sparkly. And is also unbuttoned at least one button further than it strictly needs to be. His hair is coiffed, styled to messy perfection and he's got full make-up going on - expertly applied golden eyeshadow, foundation, what Xiao Zhan is pretty sure is a light application of some rose colored lipstick.

Xiao Zhan doesn't glance around to see if anyone's watching them, because he already knows that many, many people are watching them. Looking around draws more attention. He's very aware of that. All he does is give Yibo a slow nod, meeting his eyes for longer than a beat.

It's not unreasonable that Xiao Zhan can't take his eyes off Yibo right now. He can't imagine why anyone would be looking at anything else.

Then he makes himself pull his gaze away. He takes another sip of champagne.

"Zhan-ge." Yibo's voice is soft. He's keeping his distance, pretty much for the first time all day. He finishes his beer in several smooth swallows, and Xiao Zhan doesn't watch. He doesn't. "Zhan-ge," Yibo says again, setting down his glass on a nearby table.

Xiao Zhan's heart is beating fast and his dick is getting hard. "Let's get out of here," he says, shooting Yibo what he hopes is a quick, polite smile.

Yibo nods and Xiao Zhan clears his throat. "Me first," he says. "You've got to wait it out."

Yibo nods again and he's pivoting on one heel, clearly going to do another loop around the room. Xiao Zhan heads out without looking back.

***

Xiao Zhan knows that Yibo is aware of what room he's in, because Yibo knows everything about him. Xiao Zhan's still buzzing a little, feeling loose and lit-up. He strips out of his party clothes - he'd gone for a basic grey suit and white shirt - and getting that fabric away from his overheated skin is a relief. He jumps in the shower and honestly contemplates jerking off - his dick is half-hard and doesn't seem inclined to calm down anytime soon.

He doesn't, though - he just needs to rinse the sweat off, needs to palm himself a little, needs to catch his breath. He dries off and slips on a clean pair of black boxer briefs. There's a quiet knock at the door and he makes himself check through the peephole before he pulls the door open, stepping well behind it as Yibo slips in.

His heart is beating so fast, as though he hasn't seen Yibo in weeks, in months, instead of twenty minutes ago. Yibo shuts the door behind him, his eyes doing a quick flicker down Xiao Zhan's body, his eyes lighting up in a very gratifying way as he does so. He looks deeply turned on. His mouth is open a little, his eyes are dark, and he's reaching for Xiao Zhan as soon as the door clicks shut.

Xiao Zhan can't help the sound that escapes him as Yibo wraps his hands around his hips, his thumbs pressing into the band of his boxer briefs as he drags him forward. Yibo's kissing him, hot and deep, moving him backwards into the room, both of them swallowing groans as they move away from the door. Xiao Zhan is lost in it, in the feel of Yibo's hands holding on to his hips so tight, of Yibo's lips on his, his tongue sinking into his mouth.

When Yibo guides him backwards on the bed and crawls on top of him, it's exactly what Xiao Zhan wants. Yibo's trying to wrest his suit jacket off, managing it without removing his mouth from Xiao Zhan's. "Fuck," he says, finally pushing himself up and starting to unbutton his shirt. He's straddling Xiao Zhan, the denim of his black jeans feeling rough against the skin of Xiao Zhan's thighs.

Xiao Zhan just watches. Yibo gets his shirt open, and the long planes of his chest are exposed. He's still wearing a silver necklace with multiple chains and a curved half moon charm hanging down. He's got his lip caught in his teeth as he shoves the shirt off. He starts unbuckling his belt, then curses. "Fuck me, I'm still wearing the boots."

Xiao Zhan can't help but laugh. Yibo makes a frustrated noise and pivots off of him to get up and start wrestling the boots off. When he finally manages it and turns back, Xiao Zhan's gaze gets caught on Yibo's Chanel earring for a moment, glinting in the light of the bedside lamp. "They styled you so good tonight," he says softly.

"I'm wearing too many clothes," Yibo shoots back. He's undoing the thick black leather belt on his jeans, thumbing open the button and undoing the zipper. He starts to shove them down, but Xiao Zhan says, "Wait, I -" He slides off the edge of the bed, landing on his knees in front of Yibo.

Yibo's looking down at him as Xiao Zhan hooks his fingers into the sides of his jeans. He leans in, mouths Yibo's dick through his underwear, dragging him closer. Yibo's hands are in his hair and his hips are hitching forward. "Let me - fuck, Zhan-ge, let me take it off, I want -"

Xiao Zhan shakes his head, holding him close, letting his mouth travel up the length of his dick to the tip, mouthing it through the fabric, a tinge of salt where Yibo's already leaking through it. Yibo's hisses in a breath, his hands tightening in Xiao Zhan's hair.

"Yibo." Xiao Zhan looks up at him finally, his hands still wrapped around the waist of his jeans. Yibo's breath is coming fast and he looks so pretty, the color high in his cheeks, flushed and making him look really young. Xiao Zhan's head is spinning a bit and oh, he's definitely still tipsy, feels a little dizzy with how much he wants this. "Yibo," he says, tugging at the jeans a little. "I want you to fuck me. Will you fuck me?"

Yibo's whole body trembles against Xiao Zhan. He opens his mouth but he can't seem to form words.

That's okay. Xiao Zhan can't seem to stop talking, so they're balanced out. "Have you done it?" he asks. Ten months is a long time. Yibo could have been doing a lot of things. "Since last summer, have you -"

"No," Yibo says, vehement and loud, in the quiet stillness of the room. "No," he says again, and his hands are still in Xiao Zhan's hair.

Oh. Xiao Zhan's whole body gets warm with how glad he is. "I'll show you," he says, his head tilted up, looking into Yibo's eyes. "I'll show you how."

Yibo's eyes flash hot and he nods tightly. "Yeah," he says. "I want - yeah."

Xiao Zhan does show him. Yibo gets the rest of his clothes off in short order, while Xiao Zhan reaches for the lube and the condoms (that he'd definitely packed and brought with him, while resolutely trying to force himself not to think about it, not plan for it, calling it a just-in-case). He pushes the covers back and pulls Yibo on the bed with him. He indulges himself with a long, hot kiss, drawing Yibo on top of him and letting Yibo press down against him.

He can feel the heat of Yibo's dick even through his boxer briefs. He wants more. "Take them off me," he says, finally, lifting his hips up against Yibo, pressing his dick against him.

Yibo immediately drops lower, pressing hot, wet kisses onto Xiao Zhan's chest, pausing to lick at one nipple, then lower still, kissing his stomach as he shoves his fingers into the sides of Xiao Zhan's boxer briefs, carefully lifting them over his hard dick as he pulls them down. Xiao Zhan pushes himself up on the bed. Yibo's face is open and his mouth is red and wet. It makes Xiao Zhan want to put his dick in it.

But more than that, he wants Yibo to fuck him. He wants Yibo inside him.

Yibo pushes himself up on his knees between Xiao Zhan's thighs. His dick is hard, standing up against his stomach. He looks intense and a little nervous. "How do you -" He stops, starts again. "How should I - I mean. Do you - should I turn you over, or - ?"

Xiao Zhan rescues him by taking his hand and tipping the bottle of lube over it so it's dripping off his fingers. "Start with one," he says. He hitches his leg up over Yibo's hip and guides Yibo's hand down between his legs.

Yibo lets himself lean forward, one arm braced next to Xiao Zhan. He's got a tiny frown on his face and he's looking down at where Xiao Zhan still has his hand wrapped around his, like he's going to be tested on this and wants to be sure he does a good job. Xiao Zhan breathes in through his nose as Yibo's finger brushes against his hole. "There," he says, guiding Yibo's finger to start pressing in. "Got it?" he asks, a little breathless. He's tingling all over and they've barely even started. He's going to be in pieces before this is done.

"Mm." Yibo nods, still looking down. He bites the corner of his own lip as he starts pushing his finger in.

Xiao Zhan hitches in a breath, shutting his eyes. His body resists a little at first, it always does. He settles his leg more securely around Yibo's hip and makes himself take another breath, long and slow.

Yibo's breath is coming fast but he's not saying anything, just easing his slick finger in, very shallow, very slow, barely moving forward. "Keep going," Xiao Zhan manages, taking another breath, in through his nose, out through his mouth.

"Mm," Yibo says again and pushes a little bit more, and oh, oh, that's it, that's enough for Xiao Zhan's body to start to open up to him. Yibo's working his finger in then letting it slide back and it's good, it's working. It's what Xiao Zhan needs - or at least it's a start.

He takes a breath. "More, can you - go further?"

Yibo slides his finger out a little and then back in, more, further, good, good. It's only one finger and Xiao Zhan can take more than that, easy, but Yibo's hands are so fucking huge, even one finger feels like a lot. But still, he wants more. "A little faster?" he asks. He blinks his eyes open to check on Yibo.

Yibo's staring down at him, his eyes blown, as he breathes out and then pushes his finger into Xiao Zhan again, and again. "Fuck," he says, his voice tight. "Xiao Zhan, your face, I can't -"

Xiao Zhan moves his hips a little, can't help it. It's so good. It's so good. "More lube," he says, fumbling for the bottle and thrusting it at Yibo. "Another finger. Keep going, please, I - ah," he says, as Yibo suits action to words, drenching his hand with lube and pressing in with two fingers now.

Two fingers always feel like a whole new world. "Harder, I -" Xiao Zhan is losing his words as Yibo fingers him open, finding his rhythm. There's more control now and Yibo can crook them just right. It's a long, steady rush as he keeps going.

Yibo's making small, soft noises as Xiao Zhan rocks against his fingers. Xiao Zhan's sweating - he can feel it running down his face, gathering at the small of his back. "Okay," he says, feeling like the word is wrenched out of him. "Okay, now, please, now. I need you to - now."

Yibo pulls his fingers out, taking it slow, but Xiao Zhan can't help the sound that comes out of his mouth when he does. It's a wrenching loss and he needs Yibo inside him now.

"How do you -" Yibo starts, but Xiao Zhan's already turning over, feeling unsteady. He's so hard it feels like his heart is pounding in his dick.

"I'm not as young as you," Xiao Zhan manages. "Or as bendy." He pushes himself up on his knees. "Do me like this," he says.

"Yeah," Yibo says. "Yeah, I - one second, I -"

Xiao Zhan can't hold his head up while he waits for it. He's letting it hang between his shoulders, his breath coming out in desperate pants. His hands are curling and uncurling against the sheets while Yibo slides the condom on, strokes on more lube.

Finally, finally, Yibo's hands, still slick with lube, are wrapping around Xiao Zhan's hips.

"Now," Xiao Zhan's saying, because he can't stop himself. "Now, Yibo, I need - I need -"

Yibo huffs out a breath and presses his dick against Xiao Zhan. It's exactly right - it's slow and it's steady. Xiao Zhan is doing his best to let Yibo lead, let Yibo set the pace, but his body doesn't want that. He's moving back against him, he can't stop himself.

"Zhan-ge," Yibo says, a warning note in his voice, even though it's trembling, as he clutches harder at Xiao Zhan's hips. "Slow, I have to -"

Xiao Zhan is shaking his head and he drops down so he can rest his forehead against his stacked wrists. "Please," he's saying. "Please, please - I -"

"Zhan-ge," Yibo says again and presses forward into him, all the way, until his hips are up against Xiao Zhan. Xiao Zhan's head is still down but he can't help rocking back gently against Yibo, just a little, just to feel it even more.

Yibo's panting harshly. He drops his head against Xiao Zhan's back, rolling his forehead back and forth against Xiao Zhan's skin. "Fuck," he grates out. "Zhan-ge, this is - this feels - you're so -" He moves, pulling back and sliding back in, a long moan escaping his lips as he does so.

"You can go as hard as you want," Xiao Zhan says, his brain buzzing with need. "I can take it."

Yibo groans. "You -" he says, panting hard. "You can't say stuff like that, I -" His fingers dig in tight against Xiao Zhan's hips.

Xiao Zhan's hands curl against the sheets and he moans, loud and long. "Keep going," he demands, breathlessly. "Keep going, Yibo, harder."

"Fuck," Yibo's chanting, as he thrusts harder. "Fuck, you're killing me, this is - "

All Xiao Zhan can do is hold on now, because oh, oh, there it is. Yibo's found a rhythm, because Yibo always, always does. He's pounding into him and it's been a while, it's been way too long, since Xiao Zhan has had this. He's sweating, he can feel it dripping off of him. He can't lift his head, he can't even move his hands, even though his dick is so hard, he's throbbing with need. He realizes, suddenly, that he's incredibly close to coming. That every time Yibo bottoms out inside him, Xiao Zhan is making a desperate, needy noise. He feels like one brush of hand against his dick would set him off. He's also deeply into the feel of riding that knife's edge.

"Fuck," he mutters thickly against his wrists, as Yibo fucks into him again, and again. Yibo's rhythmic pants and moans are the chorus behind him, Yibo's dick - he's big, he's perfect - sliding into him, smooth and fast. It's the best thing that's ever happened to him. "I'm so - Yibo, you have to -"

Yibo shoves in yet again, a little unsteady now, losing the rhythm slightly, but still going for it. "Zhan-ge," he says, his voice broken, and oh, Xiao Zhan wishes he could see his face right now, wants to see him open and lost in this. "Zhan-ge," he says again, going faster, faster. "Zhan-ge."

It's the last one that sets Xiao Zhan off. He somehow, though sheer strength of will, manages to get one hand on his dick. His hips roll forward and he groans, loud and long. He's coming so hard, his hand moving frantically on himself as he shakes and trembles through it.

"Oh." Yibo's voice is tight and Xiao Zhan knows he's clenching around him, knows what that feels like, loves that Yibo's feeling it for the first time. "Oh fuck, I can't - that's -" He pushes into Xiao Zhan harder, faster. Xiao Zhan is getting wave after wave of post-orgasm pleasure every time Yibo hits bottom. He thinks he might be half-laughing against the bed, can't stop it, it feels so good.

"It feels so good," he's mumbling. "It feels so good, come on, want to feel you come."

"Hnngh." Yibo's thrusts become short, stuttered, and Xiao Zhan swears he can feel the moment where he swells bigger inside him, the moment before he cries out and comes, deep inside Xiao Zhan. Xiao Zhan can feel Yibo's whole body shaking, can feel his sweaty hands slipping against his hips. The sound of Yibo's voice, the sounds he's making as he grinds into him, is something he's going to be thinking about in a lot of detail for a long, long time.

Xiao Zhan's shoulders are burning and his arms are shaking. He reaches back one shaky hand to grasp Yibo's hip, keep him close as Xiao Zhan slowly collapses down onto the bed.

Yibo's a heavy weight on top of him. His breath is still coming fast, warm against Xiao Zhan's temple. He reaches forward unsteadily, lacing his fingers in between Xiao Zhan's, pushing his hand against the bed. He presses a wet, messy kiss against Xiao Zhan's shoulder.

Xiao Zhan's heart is pounding in his chest. He squeezes Yibo's hand tightly and he feels Yibo's mouth turn up into a smile against his skin.

***

Nanjing goes by in a blur.

Xiao Zhan stays focused on stage, and during photo shoots, and in hair and make-up. He's engaged and aware, but every little while, he gets hit with a vivid memory that derails his brain for a moment or two.

Yibo will be grinning out at the audience, his smile wide and brilliant, and Xiao Zhan will be thrust back into the hotel room after Yibo fucked him. Yibo, loose and giddy, sprawled naked beside him on the bed, ruined sheets rucked up around his slim form. The glint of Yibo's eye shadow, somehow still in place, making his eyes look even more deep and beautiful than usual.

Xiao Zhan will take a breath, refocus, zoom back into the stage, the questions. He doesn't miss anything - the moments are quick flashes. But vivid. So vivid.

Yibo, running his hand down Xiao Zhan's side, his hand warm against his skin, yet still sending shivers down his spine.

Later, curled under the covers (even though Yibo should be going back to his own room, even though he definitely shouldn't fall asleep here). Yibo saying, "Next time -" His voice soft, sleepy. "Next time, can we try it the way you did with me?" He shifts even closer, almost no space between them. "I want to see your face when I fuck you." His expression when he says it is both shy and delighted, like he's trying something out, taking a further step by saying the words. Like it cements this - that Yibo just fucked him. That Yibo wants to fuck him again. That Xiao Zhan is definitely going to let Yibo fuck him again.

Xiao Zhan feels a ridiculous smile sliding across his face as he says, "I can't bend as easily as you, didi."

Yibo smiling back as he says, "I've seen you move, Zhan-ge. You're bendy. I've seen you be bendy."

Xiao Zhan laughing helplessly, closing his eyes and pressing his face against the pillow, feeling Yibo's hot breath of laughter against his neck as Yibo says against his ear, "I'll hold you up."

Xiao Zhan's breath catching sharply as he pictures the pull of his thighs, hitched up over Yibo's arms.

Xiao Zhan comes back to himself in a flurry onstage, as everyone stands up and applauds for...whatever happened while he was caught up in memories. He's good at schooling his face; he's pretty sure he did okay.

It's a two-hour flight from Nanjing to Beijing and by the time they hit the ground, Xiao Zhan is made entirely of jittery energy. His seat was next to Yibo's, because of course it was, and he's so worked up, overwhelmed, that he can't even look at him. He's bouncing one leg up and down, feeling cramped and trapped, even in first class. He can't stretch his legs out enough to make it better and he can't even get up, because that would mean crawling over Yibo and he doesn't trust himself to do that right now. He doesn't even trust himself to glance over at Yibo.

Yibo seems to feel it too, finally. Like if they even skirt the edges of what they want to do, it's going to be an endless downward slide. Xiao Zhan feels like if he brushes against Yibo, he's going to catch on fire. He feels like if he makes eye contact with him, it's going to be so intense that everyone on the plane will know every filthy thing he's thinking; how every beat of his heart is in the rhythm of Yibo.

Yibo's keeping a careful distance between them - Xiao Zhan can't think of the last time they sat like this without Yibo's knee pressing against his, the last time Yibo went this long without leaning over him to point at something out the window or show him something on his phone.

But Yibo has a black baseball cap on over his unwashed hair, pulled low over his eyes. He's slouched back next to Xiao Zhan, AirPods in his ears, eyes closed. But he's contained in a way that Xiao Zhan knows means he's aware of this energy between them. He's glad for that, glad for that as much as he is for the space between them. Right now, Xiao Zhan needs that bubble, needs that distance, however minor, so he doesn't lose his mind. He's twitchy and unsettled, his heart banging in his chest even though absolutely nothing is happening except a relatively short, boring flight.

He pushes his feet forward again, trying hard not to knock them against the seat in front of him, crossing his arms over his chest and shutting his eyes. It's the longest short flight he's ever experienced.

They don't have a plan for when they land. They hadn't discussed it. They hadn't discussed anything. They have over a week before their next big press event but Xiao Zhan knows they're both scheduled to within an inch of their lives on stuff other than support of the show. They get ferried through security, through baggage claim, and put into separate vans.

Xiao Zhan feels unmoored, in the backseat of the van that his manager had arranged, racing through the streets of Beijing to drop him home. He pulls his phone out and starts to text Yibo, but it feels ridiculous; he can't figure out what to even say. He ends up staring down at his phone for the whole ride. Finally, he just types out, come here.

He presses send before he lets himself think more about it and climbs out of the car. He bows his thanks to the driver, who hands him his bag from the back. Xiao Zhan slings it over his shoulder and heads up to his apartment. He's lost in thoughts of Yibo, lost in thoughts of how he wanted his knee pressed up against his, wishes he had gotten to have that.

When he gets to his apartment, Yibo's sitting beside his door, his travel bag on the floor beside him. He looks exhausted but his smile when he sees Xiao Zhan is luminous.

"How..." Xiao Zhan starts and then realizes he doesn't care. He doesn't care - Yibo's here, in front of him. At his house. "Come on," he says, reaching down a hand.

Yibo takes it, pulling himself easily to his feet. "Hi," he says and doesn't let go of Xiao Zhan's hand.

Xiao Zhan's already got his keys clutched in his other hand, had unearthed them from his bag as he walked in, desperate to be home. He gets the door open one-handed and pulls Yibo in behind him.

The sudden, silent stillness of the apartment feels strange. Like they've closed themself off from everything and everyone, the whole world falling away.

Now that they're finally alone, Xiao Zhan feels hesitant. He's still buzzing with it, exhausted but worked up all at once. It feels weirdly intimate to have Yibo in his space, the apartment silent and stale from being closed up. They're quiet as they take their shoes off in his narrow entranceway, but it feels like a companionable silence, like they're both in agreement. Like they have time now and it's building up between them like the best sort of tension. Xiao Zhan has a flutter in his stomach every time he brushes up against Yibo, each touch feeling stolen and intense, even here, even now.

Yibo follows him into his living room. When Xiao Zhan turns around, he's right there, his eyes on Xiao Zhan. He puts his hands on Xiao Zhan's face and kisses him hot and sweet. Just that, just gentle kisses, in the middle of the living room. Xiao Zhan's bare feet curl against the rug, his hands resting on Yibo's hips. It's this slow, intense making out that feels like - oh. Oh, it feels like the kissing they did in the heat of last summer; feels like the kissing they did when they were still daring each other to cross a line.

"Rock Paper Scissors," Yibo says, when he comes up for air.

Xiao Zhan smiles so hard his face hurts. He takes a breath. "I thought it was just a summer fling, or something." He looks at Yibo. "You know?"

He's holding his breath a little. He's been worrying at this for weeks. If he calls attention to it, if they talk about it, if they talk about how they're doing this again and they can't blame it on the summer heat, or on character bleed, or on any of the dozen things Xiao Zhan spent three sweltering months in the summer of 2018 trying to convince himself it was - if he calls attention to that, will it melt away, disappear?

Yibo loops his arms around Xiao Zhan's waist. He's looking at him like he's making up for lost time, like he's memorizing his face. He licks the corner of his own lip, then bites it thoughtfully. "I know," he says. "I did, too. I - I don't know, we never talked about it, not really."

They hadn't. Not really.

"And that was...okay," Yibo continues. "I mean." He stops, taking a step back, tugging Xiao Zhan to sit down on the couch with him.

Xiao Zhan sits and waits for Yibo to gather his thoughts. "It was an intense summer," Yibo says finally. "I chalked it up to that. I - we didn't - it ratcheted up so fast and then it was done. And I didn't see you, and we were both - it was all -"

Yibo's not managed to really finish a sentence but Xiao Zhan is following him. He's right. He's right about all of it.

"Then," Yibo says, clearing his throat. "Then I saw you in hair and make-up at the Happy Camp filming."

Nearly a year later. Xiao Zhan nods. He remembers catching a glimpse of Yibo for the first time backstage, remembers his breath catching in his throat.

"I hadn't seen you in real life in so long." Yibo studies his face again, his eyes dark and hot. "I'd forgotten," he says intently. "I'd almost forgotten what it's like to see you in person, Zhan-ge."

He stops talking, swallows. His face tells Xiao Zhan everything.

"You were totally chill during the whole Happy Camp filming," Xiao Zhan says. "I thought maybe you were over it." He'd known Yibo was happy to see him, but they were on set and Yibo was coolly professional - or as professional as it was possible to get, playing games and putting on silly costumes and just going through the expected motions.

Yibo shakes his head. "I wasn't over it." He leans forward, talking intently. "Afterwards, after the whole -" He waves his hand around, frowning. "The whole show, the whole thing, where we were out there in front of everyone, and then it was just you and me."

It had been just them together, suddenly. The hallway to the dressing rooms had been quiet - they'd been the last ones off set, hanging back for some behind the scenes pictures, signing some autographs, taking some pictures with fans. The sudden silence as they walked down the hallway had seemed almost deafening. Xiao Zhan remembers, suddenly, how Yibo's shoulder had brushed against his as they walked.

"I couldn't wait." Yibo sits back, shrugs his shoulders up to his ears and then back, like he's easing the tension in his back. "I couldn't. I wanted to do so many things to you. It took everything I had to wait until we were in the dressing room with the door locked." He shakes his head, looking down, the color rising in his cheeks. "And then all I could do was stick my hand down your pants."

Xiao Zhan giggles - he can't help it. "You did," he says. "You really did just do that."

Yibo laughs as well, but his eyes are dark as he looks up at Xiao Zhan. "I just wanted to get my hands on you," he says. "I couldn't think of anything else, once I saw you again."

Xiao Zhan has moved closer on the couch without even realizing it. He's getting hard just from talking about this. His knee is pressed up against Yibo's and he's not sure why that feels intimate, but it does. "I thought maybe," he says. "Your face when you jerked me off was -"

"I wanted to see you," Yibo breaks in. "I wanted to see you come."

Xiao Zhan can't catch his breath.

"I thought I remembered what you looked like." Yibo's voice is soft. "But I wasn't sure." He shifts closer. "I wanted to see it again."

"You can see it again," Xiao Zhan says. He slings his leg over Yibo's lap, straddles him. He kisses Yibo and Yibo groans, his hands grabbing Xiao Zhan's hips, dragging him down.

"Oh," Yibo says, grinding up against him. "You're so hard, Zhan-ge. Just from talking about it?"

"Just from talking about it," Xiao Zhan says, pressing down. Yibo's clearly catching up with him pretty quickly. Xiao Zhan is so hard. He wants Yibo's hand in his pants again. He wants Yibo's hands everywhere. He wants more than that, too. He wants -

Yibo's hands tighten on his hips, lifting him up, tilting him sideways so he ends up on his back on the couch. Yibo climbs on top of him and oh, that's what Xiao Zhan wants. That's exactly what he wants.

Yibo's weight is on top of him, Yibo's dick hard up against him. Xiao Zhan is loving the spread of his thighs, the feel of Yibo in between them. Yibo is kissing him, hard and desperate, and they're both moaning into it.

It's a struggle to get both their pants open and shoved out of the way, but they manage it. The bedroom is right there, but it feels like kilometers away. Definitely too far, when Xiao Zhan is this close to the edge. Yibo drops down against him, his dick sliding against his, the slide made easier by the sweat in between them and the slickness from Xiao Zhan's leaking dick.

"You -" he starts, but has to stop and take a breath at a particularly good, long thrust Yibo makes. He tries again. "You're going to get to see what it looks like when I come - oh fuck - pretty damn soon."

He's clutching at Yibo. Yibo shifts a little, still moving his hips, but pushing up on one elbow. He's looking down at Xiao Zhan. His breath is coming fast as he says, "I want to see it." He moves harder against Xiao Zhan, a long, almost agonizing slide. Xiao Zhan's toes are curling. He's got his head thrown back and he can barely breathe. "I want to see it," Yibo says again, his tone desperate, like he hasn't seen Xiao Zhan come over and over again in the last few months. Like he hasn't had Xiao Zhan come inside him. "Come for me," he says. It doesn't come out like a demand. It's more like a desperate request. "Come for me, Zhan-ge."

Xiao Zhan's moaning, loud and long. He can't stop - he can't stop. "I'm going to," he says, panting harshly. "I'm going to, I'm -" It ramps up in a rush of heat. He's trembling under Yibo, his hips moving up as he cries out and comes in between them.

He's barely finished when Yibo says, soft and hot against his ear, "I want to fuck you again. Will you let me fuck you?"

Xiao Zhan's brain is still rattling inside his head. He can't catch his breath enough to respond. He can't even open his eyes. He just nods.

Yibo's the one to get them off the couch, hauling Xiao Zhan up. Xiao Zhan's tugging his pants back up as he nods to where the bedroom is. Yibo, ever the master of simplicity, simply pushes his down and off, leaving them pooled on the living room floor. He's stripping off his shirt as he heads determinedly to the bedroom.

Xiao Zhan follows helplessly behind, mesmerized by the sway of Yibo's hips, the curve of his ass as he walks.

Xiao Zhan had made his bed neatly before he left, but the room is cluttered with all the stuff he'd discarded as he'd packed. Yibo doesn't seem to be noticing that. Yibo is standing in his bedroom with a hard-on and he's reaching for Xiao Zhan.

Xiao Zhan's laughing as Yibo grabs him and tumbles him onto the bed. He feels relaxed and relieved; like every bit of tension has drained away. "What?" Yibo is saying breathlessly as he slides on top of Xiao Zhan, pressing him against the bed, pushing his dick up against him. "What's funny? You think this is funny?" He's pretending to be stern, but he's got a helpless smile on his face as he rolls his hips forward. "Zhan-ge." He's looking into Xiao Zhan's eyes and sliding his hands up to grasp Xiao Zhan's wrists, holding them against the bed on either side of his head. It feels amazing. Xiao Zhan wants to be held down in any way Yibo wants to hold him. He's lost in the weight of Yibo against him, the feel of his dick pressed against his hip, the way his eyes are already blown.

"Zhan-ge," Yibo says again. It comes out almost in a whine. Xiao Zhan huffs out another laugh and Yibo presses his grin against Xiao Zhan's shoulder. "I want to fuck you so bad," he says. "I've been thinking about it. I can't stop thinking about it. What you felt like," and now he's pressing hot, wet kisses against Xiao Zhan's chest. "The sounds you made." He's moving his hands now, drawing them down to Xiao Zhan's hips. "How tight you were when I got inside."

Xiao Zhan isn't relaxed anymore. He's being drawn along in this by Yibo. He's breathing fast and his dick is getting hard again. "Hang on," he says, breathlessly. "Hang on, I have to -"

He manages to grab what he needs from the bedside table without getting too far out from under Yibo - mostly because Yibo won't let him go. His hands are grasping at his hips as he rolls onto his side, his mouth sucking at any piece of skin it can get to - Xiao Zhan's shoulder gets a sharp nip, his biceps, his hip.

When he settles back down on the bed, tossing the lube and condom next to them, Yibo scoops up the bottle of lube immediately. Yibo's a quick study. He starts to turn Xiao Zhan over, sitting back on his knees, one hand on Xiao Zhan's hip.

Xiao Zhan shakes his head a little against the bed. "Like this," he says softly, hitching his leg up. First over Yibo's hip, tugging Yibo forward with it, and then, when Yibo's eyes flicker, slightly uncertain, up over Yibo's shoulder. It's an easier bend than he'd remembered - he hasn't done it this way in a long time - and the look in Yibo's eyes, hot and hungry, is worth it.

"Like this," he says again, tugging the bottle of lube out of Yibo's hand and flipping the top open. He spills it over Yibo's fingers and his body gets a rush of memory of what it feels like to have Yibo's long fingers pressing inside him. He's ready. He's so ready for this.

Yibo watches his face the entire time he's fingering him open. He's more sure this time, more certain. He's slow and steady at first, careful, and Xiao Zhan can see the moment when Yibo feels Xiao Zhan's body open up to him. It's a look of almost excited pride as Yibo slips his finger in all the way.

"More," Xiao Zhan says immediately. He's rocking against Yibo's hand and he's ready for it, fuck, he needs it. He wants the feel of those two fingers, crooking inside him. Getting him ready for Yibo's dick.

Yibo - Yibo, who hasn't come yet, Yibo, who's been hard for a long time now - makes a noise in his throat as he complies. Xiao Zhan's pushing his hips further back - two fingers feel so much fucking better than one and this angle has always really fucking worked for him. "Keep going," he pants. Yibo's head drops forward, his lip caught in his teeth, as he does. "Keep - just like that - can you -"

Yibo - a quick study, a blessedly quick study - pushes in hard and crooks his fingers just right and stars explode behind Xiao Zhan's eyes. He's writhing beneath Yibo, glad he's come once already, because the feel of this just makes him harder.

"Yeah," he says and knows his voice comes out frantic. He feels frantic. "Yibo, now." He's talking so fast, he can't dial it back. "I need you to fuck me, you have to fuck me..."

Yibo's eyes are huge and dark and he's shaking a little as he pulls his fingers out of Xiao Zhan. He manages to get the condom on and in short order, he's back. "Should I -" He stops, takes a breath and shakes his head, like he's trying to get his brain back online. Xiao Zhan knows the feeling. "I mean, do you - should we -"

"Like this," Xiao Zhan says again. "I want it like this." He looks to one side and grabs a pillow, pushing it under his hips. Yibo's watching the whole time, with wide eyes. Xiao Zhan tugs him forward and hooks first one leg, then the other, up over Yibo's shoulders.

Yibo lets out a shuddering breath as his dick brushes up between Xiao Zhan's legs. "Look at you," he says. "You're so..."

Xiao Zhan has felt a little ridiculous in this position in the past but now he just feels so turned on, so ready for it. Yibo's staring at him like he's the eighth wonder so Yibo's clearly feeling it too. The stretch of his legs over Yibo's shoulders feels good and he's staring up into Yibo's eyes. He takes a breath. "Now. Now, I -"

Yibo groans and pushes forward, sliding into Xiao Zhan. It's not as slow as last time, not as cautious. Xiao Zhan is sweating now, his head thrown back as he gasps, and gasps, at the feel of Yibo pressing all the way in. It's like he's learned all the rules and he knows just how fast Xiao Zhan can take him. He can't help the grin that slides helplessly across his face.

Yibo, deep inside him, looming over him, says breathlessly, "What? What?"

"Quick study," Xiao Zhan breathes out. He can't stop smiling.

Yibo, his face flushed, his eyes hot, grins back and - oh holy fuck - grinds against him. "Yeah?" he says. He takes a breath then pulls almost all the way out and slides in again, one long, smooth thrust. "Like this?" he says, like he's a porn star. "Like this?" he says again.

Xiao Zhan cries out on the thrust, shoves his hips forward as much as he can. He's not laughing anymore. It's too good, it's too much, it's exactly right. "Yeah," he says. He's trying to clutch at Yibo, his hands sweaty, trying to grab him, drag him closer, closer. "Yeah, please, fuck, please."

"Since you asked," Yibo gasps out, thrusting in again, watching Xiao Zhan's face with dark, hot eyes. "Oh fuck, Zhan-ge."

Things ramp up. Yibo absolutely goes for it, fucking Xiao Zhan hard now. He's thrusting in, over and over again, and he's sweating, his hairline damp with it. His mouth is open and the sounds he's making as he drives in are so hot, so desperate, exactly what Xiao Zhan wants to hear.

He's pushing Xiao Zhan's legs back further. Xiao Zhan can take it. Xiao Zhan is loving the stretch, feeling every part of him open up to Yibo. "Harder," he breathes and Yibo does it, his hips pumping, keeping the rhythm. Xiao Zhan's whole body is thrumming with it. "Faster," he begs. Yibo chokes out a broken moan, dropping his head to Xiao Zhan's shoulder as he does it. Oh, he's so good, he's fucking him hard, and fast, and perfect, just perfect.

"I -" Yibo says and his hips are stuttering, losing the rhythm. "Oh fuck," he grates out, each breath coming on a moan. "I can't - I'm going to -"

One last thrust and he's coming inside Xiao Zhan, his breath hot and frantic against Xiao Zhan's shoulder, the sounds he's making reverberating against Xiao Zhan's skin.

Afterwards - after Yibo pulls out, and collapses next to him, looking wrecked, looking destroyed - afterwards, Xiao Zhan straddles him, thighs aching. Xiao Zhan wraps his hand around himself, braces himself on Yibo's chest, and strokes himself while looking into Yibo's eyes. Yibo's breath is still coming hard and fast and he's got his hands wrapped around Xiao Zhan's thighs. Xiao Zhan strokes himself harder, shaking with it, riding that edge.

"Please," Yibo says, his voice low. "Do it, Zhan-ge. I want you to -"

His hands tighten on Xiao Zhan's thighs and the feel of it rolls through Xiao Zhan's entire body. "Yibo." He can barely get the word out, he's panting so hard, every move of his hand on his dick sending him closer to the edge. "I'm close." He wants Yibo to know it. He wants Yibo to know everything. "I'm so close, I'm -" He's going to - he's almost there. Yibo's hands are so tight on his legs, Yibo's whole body tense under him, like he's right there with Xiao Zhan.

One more stroke and Xiao Zhan comes, crying out, shoving one hand over his mouth, biting the back of his hand as he shakes. It's rolling through him in waves, his hips jerking as he trembles through it.

When he's done, when he finally comes back to himself, he's slumped back on his heels, still straddling Yibo. His back hurts, his thighs burn, and he can't seem to catch his breath, or stop shaking. It's Yibo who reaches up and holds him with his strong, sure hands; Yibo who gently lifts him up and draws him down to the side.

When Xiao Zhan is able to blink his eyes open, Yibo's still lying there on his back, head tilted to the side, watching him. His hair is sweat-soaked, a tousled wreck, and his eyes are still blown - pure pupil, dark, intense. His mouth is open a little, his lips soft and pink. Xiao Zhan wants that mouth around his dick again, soon.

He flushes, uncertain why that's the thought that makes him shy, after all that's just happened between them.

"What?" Yibo asks, shifting a little. He's not breathless anymore, because he's in perfect shape and recovers quickly. Xiao Zhan can't help the stupid smile that slides across his face at the thought.

"What?" Yibo says again, more intently. "Your face, Zhan-ge - there's a lot going on in there."

Xiao Zhan shakes his head, his cheeks hot, still grinning. He can't stop grinning. "Nothing," he says, pushing himself up on one elbow. He has to catch his breath at the movement - he feels the soreness everywhere. "Just thinking about you." He runs his eyes down Yibo's body, his belly spattered with Xiao Zhan's come, his dick soft, resting against his thigh. "You look fucked out," he says, feeling himself blush harder, but not caring.

Yibo gives him a slow smile, looking young, and pleased. "I feel fucked out."

"Mm." Xiao Zhan reaches to run his hand down Yibo's chest, tracing over the cut of his abs - the definition there is unbelievable, no wonder he could fuck Xiao Zhan through the mattress - and lower, smearing the come on his stomach with his fingers, back and forth.

He feels the catch of Yibo's breath. When he turns his gaze up at him, still moving his fingers in the slow motion across the slickness, Yibo is breathing harder now, licking the corner of his mouth. "Zhan-ge," he says, his voice coming out tight. "You -"

He can't seem to finish the sentence. He leans up and slides his hand into Xiao Zhan's hair, kissing him, soft and sweet.

They get up, eventually, when Yibo starts grousing about sticking to the sheets. Xiao Zhan sends him to the shower first, lolls in bed waiting for him, feeling twinges through his whole body every time he shifts. When Yibo comes back, one of Xiao Zhan's towels slung low around his waist, wet hair pushed back from his face, Xiao Zhan loses his breath for a moment. This, too, feels intimate in a way he hasn't quite experienced before.

"You can't keep looking at me like that." Yibo's voice is helpless and he laughs a little as he runs his hands through his hair. "Your face, Zhan-ge, it's -" He stops and swallows. The way he's looking down at Xiao Zhan makes Xiao Zhan realize, a little bit, what he's doing when he looks at Yibo, the effect it's having. The heat in Yibo's eyes makes Xiao Zhan's breath catch in his chest, makes him warm all over.

"Wang Yibo," he says, rolling over onto his stomach, resting his hands on stacked fists as he looks up at him. "What am I going to do with you?" He knows his voice is stupidly fond, and he can't control it. Doesn't want to control it. Doesn't want to stop looking at Yibo.

"Fuck me senseless," Yibo says. "Again. Soon. I hope."

Xiao Zhan feels like his grin is going to break his face. "Might need a little more recovery time," he says. "But I'll definitely add it to the agenda."

Yibo makes a deliberate, hilarious, curious face. "Agenda," he says. "I like the sound of that. What else is on the agenda? Is there a spreadsheet, Xiao-laoshi? A sex spreadsheet?"

Xiao Zhan is giggling, dropping his head against the sheets, the laughter bubbling up from deep inside.

"I want to see the sex spreadsheet." Yibo sprawls on the bed beside him, damp towel loosening around his hips as he drags Xiao Zhan closer. "Show it to me, c'mon."

Xiao Zhan is still giggling as Yibo kisses him. "I'm gross, I need a shower, I'm gonna get you all dirty again," he says, struggling against him.

Yibo's voice is thick with amusement as he says, "Oh, yeah, get me all dirty again."

They're both laughing as Yibo presses him against the ruined sheets and kisses him, and kisses him.

***

"Did you see the texts from Yu Bin?" Yibo asks Xiao Zhan. "Everyone's going to go out and get boozy after. We should go out and get boozy."

Xiao Zhan keeps his smile on his face, keeps gazing out at the huge audience watching them. He does not turn towards Yibo.

"I like it when you have a drink or two." Yibo shifts closer. "You get loose. It's good."

"We're on stage," Xiao Zhan murmurs, working to keep his smile looking relaxed and real. "A very great many people are looking at us."

"In or out?" Yibo says, ignoring him as well as the crowd. Even after all this time, Yibo just doesn't care who's looking at them. Which is everybody. Everybody is looking at them.

"Please stop," Xiao Zhan says, trying desperately to focus on what the presenter is saying.

"You could blow me," Yibo murmurs, his hand coming up to cover his lips for a moment, his tone entirely conversational. "After."

This gets Xiao Zhan to swivel his head towards him, ducking his neck a little like he's just listening to what Yibo is saying and not hiding the flush he feels rising on his cheeks.

"You like to do that when you're tipsy," Yibo says.

He's not wrong. All the pretense slips away for Xiao Zhan when he's had a couple of drinks. He does, in fact, like the slide of Yibo's dick across his tongue, likes to get lost in the taste and the rhythm of it.

He flickers his eyes up to meet Yibo's for a second. Yibo's gazing back at him with a wide smile on his face, looking like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

"Fine," Xiao Zhan says, determinedly turning his face back towards the audience. He gives them a little wave as he murmurs, "In."