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Hao and Hanbin have been roommates for a few months now.
Hanbin had spent two whole weeks plastering fliers in search of a roommate all over their university—something that Gyuvin had mocked him for, on multiple occasions, and with no shame whatsoever given the total failure they resulted in.
However, just as Hanbin was close to waving a white flag in defeat, Hao had contacted him on the phone, calling him one random Tuesday night while he was playing League of Legends with Gyuvin and Jiwoong.
Hao had just transferred to their school after deciding to get his Master's in a different country and was looking for a big apartment to give him the privacy of having a single room but cheap enough so he didn't have to use all his paycheck on rent.
Hanbin had been ecstatic at the news, immediately setting up a meeting on the phone to see each other the next day at the campus’ most popular café.
Now, Hanbin is a confident man—he likes taking care of himself, he knows he is attractive, and he is definitely aware of the effect he usually has on people.
Random students have stopped him on various occasions to ask for his number, shamelessly flirt or to tell him how good he did in one of the lessons in the dance studio he usually goes to; the bolder ones just asked him out on a date, hoping to get a yes in response, which was seldom what happened.
He liked getting to know new people, engaging in fiery conversations about professors he knew nothing about, and even taking those dates home if they were interesting enough.
Hanbin has all these facts in mind when he meets Zhang Hao for the first time. Sadly, it all becomes futile when he sits down at the same table as his.
Hao seems just as confident—dark cherry hair perfectly styled down to every strand, a cute smirk on his face when he narrates about his travels to get to the country and his aspirations of becoming an educator in the music field, high cheekbones, and sharp coffee-colored eyes that follow his every movement any time Hanbin talks.
Zhang Hao is enchanting, to say the least.
It's in the way he speaks, in the giggle he lets out when something amusing is being said, in the bright smile and sweet, loud voice.
Hanbin has liked him since the very first second, and accepting him as a roommate was the easiest decision for Hanbin to take; so Hao moves in and their friendship starts, although a weird one.
They have this strange understanding of each other, where a quiet stare seems to speak louder than words, or a hug makes them both smile wider. Hanbin has thought about investigating their bond an absurd amount of times—especially when completely wasted, lying on Gyuvin's couch and rumbling for minutes about the specific hair color of Hao’s hair—not red, not brown, not mahogany, but dark cherry.
He had come to the conclusion that he liked Hao after the first two months of living with him, but he never found the courage to say it out loud, let alone tell the source of his feelings. He didn't mind, however. He was okay with just being friends, as long as his feelings didn't deepen to the point of non-return.
Thankfully, they don't see each other very often—both busy with their insanely eclectic schedules and different friend circles, so it is fine. He still enjoys his company as a friend when they see each other at night sometimes, around the kitchen table where they discuss the events of the day and share some ice cream; sometimes it's ramen, other times it's weird-tasting cold pancakes Matthew leaves in the fridge for him.
They talk about their day, their classes, bad-tempered colleagues at work, their assignments, their worries, and also their hopes; Hanbin likes those nights and Hao does too.
“I can't wait to get home just to talk to you,” he had told him once with a mouthful of chocolate ice cream.
They work well as roommates, too. They're both tidy most of the time, well organized, quiet, and Hao respects his boundaries almost always—he doesn't like to talk about that one time Hanbin saw him naked while rushing out the bathroom simply because Hao forgot he didn't live alone anymore.
Hao still blushes profusely every time Hanbin mentions the event, and it brings him the weirdest amount of pleasure, for some obscure reason.
They are compatible under every aspect—weirdly enough, even with the people they bring home.
Both of them talked about it beforehand, and apparently they end up having very similarly active sexual lives; Hao brings someone new into their apartment almost every one or two weeks; it is usually on Fridays because it's his ‘Freaky day to get dick’, as he calls it, and it always, with no fail, causes Hanbin to stare at his ceiling for hours, not one single ounce of sleep in his body when he has to get up the next day.
What he learns from living with Hao is not only the fact that he occasionally enjoys eating durians, sweet breads, and spicy crabs or that he likes watching romantic, sad dramas on the couch and forcing Hanbin to watch every single one of the episodes with him.
No.
Hanbin also learns that Hao really loves to be loud during sex.
The sleepless nights he has spent staring at the ceiling are always filled with the most toes curling moans and whines—he recognizes those specifically because they're like the heightened, more cruelly sensual versions of the normal whines Hao usually lets out when Hanbin doesn't want to help him search for his copy of the keys.
It's also about low and yet so loud grunts when he fucks other people and high-pitched sweet whines when he gets fucked instead.
Yes, he can also tell the difference between the two—and it's pure torture.
Because Hanbin likes Hao, as a friend and as a potential partner, simply because the older is impossible not to like no matter how hard he tries.
When it gets too much, when all he can think about is breaking the door handle, pulling whoever is with Hao at the moment, throwing them out, and showing Hao what exactly could make him scream his name over and over again on the top of his lungs, he sneaks out his bedroom in his pajamas, puts a coat or light jacket on, and closes the door quietly behind him to drop by Gyuvin’s and Matthew’s place, hours of loud cheering or complaining about their video game obsession of the month polluting his thoughts instead.
These escapades are not really a problem for Hanbin because he knows he must be difficult to deal with too. He brings home just as many people as Hao does, and he is pretty sure he isn't the quietest guy in the bedroom, so he thinks it is not a big deal spending a night every once in a while at their friends’ place.
It doesn't seem to bother Hao either, given the absurd amount of mocking and jokes they send the other’s way every morning after their little encounters with strangers—Hao likes to call them all himbos who are easily swayed by a smirk and a dancer’s body, and Hanbin just rolls his eyes, arguing that at least the people he brings home aren't dumb jocks who lower the entire neighborhood's IQ level.
They have fun with it, at the end of the day, and that's really all that matters.
Yes, Hanbin likes Hao.
Hao likes Hanbin—he has kind, gentle eyes that turn into the sharpest weapons when he is concentrating on something or when he is really listening to what you're telling him. He has bleached blond hair, which makes him look a little bit older than he actually is—more mature, Hao thinks. He is pretty and has a warm smile that has made him lose focus more times than he would ever like to admit.
Hanbin is both funny and fun to have around; he likes silly, stupid jokes and repeating memes he sees on Twitter out loud, his own laugh sometimes being more amusing than the actual jokes he tells.
Hao has liked him since the very first day they met, in that busy café on the campus of the school he just transferred into—the fear of losing himself in such a big space, academically and physically, had been gnawing at him for the days, but when he sat down at the little table outside the café, the one table that wobbles when you rest your elbows on it, he could feel those worries dissipate the more he talked to the blond student.
Hanbin is a nice and comforting person; he always puts a blanket on Hao when he falls asleep on their couch in the living room while studying or watching his favorite series. He makes coffee in the morning for both of them, even though he leaves home first during the week, even though Hao has told him multiple times to not worry about that just to spare him of the annoyance of making coffee for him too, but Hanbin had replied with an index on his lips, signaling him to be quiet.
Hao likes having him as a roommate, too. Their personalities fit so perfectly it scares him sometimes—he notices it when they have no problems sharing stuff with each other, like that one black jacket he took from Hanbin once when he was cold and never gave it back or that one little perfume bottle that he finds in the one bathroom of their apartment, on the kitchen counter, on the little coffee table in the living room, or on the little furniture piece they bought together, by the entrance, its location simply changing every day depending on who uses it.
They are perfect roommates, really—if he ignores the biggest, most humiliating moment of his life when he nonchalantly walked out of the bathroom with nothing on, two days after he moved in.
Other than that, everything was perfect. Hao liked Hanbin as a roommate, as a person, and sometimes—when he lays in bed at night, listening to his favorite playlist, thinking about his life, his exams, what to cook for breakfast the next day, how he misses his family back home—he also likes Hanbin as maybe something more.
Although he discards those thoughts as soon as they appear in his mind, Hao is still aware that they’re there, constantly present somewhere deep in his heart, but he likes Hanbin as a friend, and he knows that doing something about that messy bundle of feelings will ruin the perfect little life they have created with each other; so he ignores them, takes a deep breath, and goes back to thinking about how much he still has to organize for his Philosophy of Education exam or the amount of hours he still has left in his internship.
The hardest part, however, is having to deal with the sporadic reminders of just how good Hanbin would actually be as someone more than his friend.
He is conscious of the fact that Sung Hanbin is undoubtedly an attractive man—he has eyes. His roommate is conventionally hot and beautiful and pretty and also, as he had discovered through their living together, outrageously popular with basically every person on campus.
He has lost count of the times he had to put his noise-canceling headphones on when Hanbin came back home with someone new—sometimes it’s boys, sometimes it’s girls—as he noticed in the mornings when his friend says his goodbye by the door to the person he spent the night with while Hao munches on cereal or pastries in the kitchen, waiting for Hanbin to get back, eyes closed, ready to hear Hao mock the living hell out of him.
Hanbin bringing people back home is not annoying as much as it is frustrating—he has to deal with wet, loud kisses from the moment the younger enters their apartment at night, and it doesn’t stop when Hanbin gets into his bedroom because he can hear everything.
He hears every little sound of pleasure, every moan, and every voice that screams his name out loud non-stop for hours, at times. It would be okay, really, because he knows how thin their walls are, and most of the time they organize well enough to tell each other when they will bring dates back to their apartment to let the other know, but other times they can’t seem to coordinate their schedules, so Hao has to bite at the thin skin around his nails while searching for his headphones, and the words ‘Fuck’ and ‘Hanbin’ fill his every thought.
On some occasions, he has to leave the apartment to meet Ricky at some club or at his place, just to stop the amount of inhumane hotness that conquers his cheeks by the sounds he hears from Hanbin’s bedroom, but it’s bearable, at least.
He doesn’t really mind, especially since he knows he must be hard to deal with too, given the times he has brought home different men to do the exact same thing Hanbin did.
They still laughed about it in the morning, even so—he mocks the younger for his questionable choices with who he sleeps with, and Hanbin does the exact same thing while stealing a sip of coffee from his mug and a piece of mango from his plate, laughing at his pouting expression. It doesn’t seem to bother either of them, so he is okay with it as long as the other keeps treating him like he always has.
Yes, Hao likes Hanbin.
Their reciprocated sense of peace, however, receives its first hit on a very random Saturday morning, while Hanbin stares at Hao from the kitchen table, messy blond hair making him look softer than usual and an old white t-shirt on, as soon as he closes the door of their apartment after saying goodbye to the man Hao has spent the night with—Kevin, he remembers, a cute student from the U.S. with great arms and a passion for the piano.
“Going international, now, are we?” Hanbin chuckles from the table, an invitation for Hao to join him in the kitchen as he puts his pink slippers on and follows the voice.
“What can I say, I am altruistic like that,” he pushes one of the chairs out and takes a seat in front of Hanbin, who is biting into what looks like a steamed bun with some custard inside.
“I can only imagine,” Hanbin scoffs, offering a piece of the pastry in his hand that Hao accepts by bending forward enough to bite it. “This one seemed okay.”
“He plays the piano.” Hao hums around the sweet, licking away some of the custard from his lips and going back to sitting normally. “Very nice guy.”
“It doesn’t cancel out being so dumb to fall for whatever flirting technique you threw his way,” and it makes Hao raise an eyebrow.
“Please, you’re the last person that should be judging,” he huffs in defense, letting out a yawn as he brings his legs closer to his chest and hugs them.
“I’ll have you know that my flirting is excellent; thank you very much.” Hanbin takes a sip of something from his mug and nudges that too to Hao, probably suggesting to take a sip, but he shakes his head.
“Please, elaborate.”
“I’m not sharing my secrets with you,” Hanbin frowns, causing a laugh out of the older.
“Your secrets?” he repeats, with incredulity. “Okay, playboy, sorry,” he snickers as he raises one of his hands to ask for another bite of the bun, which makes Hanbin roll his eyes while still indulging in Hao’s request and handing him over the food.
“Yes, my secrets,” the blonde nods. “There is a reason why people can’t get enough of Sung Hanbin, you know?”
Hao hums mockingly, giving him the bun back after taking another bite. “One thing I know for sure is that I would never fall for any of that.”
Hanbin is looking at him with a sudden different light in his deep brown eyes, a curious look that stops Hao in his steps and has him reciprocate the gaze. “What?”
“You would one hundred percent be at my feet if I unleashed my charm on you, Zhang Hao.”
“Oh, my God,” Hao laughs out loud, throwing his head back from the amusement and holding his stomach with both arms. “Do you hear yourself?”
“I am serious,” Hanbin says solemnly, like he really means it, and it makes Hao pause his laughter just to look at the other with knitted brows.
“You really think whatever little move you pull on the people you bring here,” he points at the space between them, “would actually work on me?”
“Yeah,” he casually says, drinking what Hao can tell is coffee from the smell and shrugging his shoulders.
“Oh, you’re silly." Hao licks his upturned lips. “You are really silly if you think I wouldn’t have you begging for me before you even have the time to think of flirting.”
There is a quick shift in the air, something new and electrifying covering the both of them as they exchange looks, both captivated by the other’s words.
Hanbin thinks it’s cute that Hao seems so sure of himself when he knows the effect he has on whoever shows interest in him, and Hao finds incredibly amusing the security with which Hanbin seems to be talking.
“Okay, then,” the blond blurts out after a while, patting his hands down on his sweatpants and looking at him again. “Let me take you on a date.”
Hao is so taken aback his legs drop from the chair and he stares at him like he has gone completely crazy, “What?”
Hanbin has a confident grin plastered over his face. “Let’s go out on a date tonight and see who has better game between the two of us.”
“You’re not serious,” he shakes his head in response, a nervous smile appearing on his lips, but the younger man seems to not be joking at all.
“I am,” he presses. “One date, you give me everything you’ve got, and I’ll do the same. First one to cave in, loses.”
Hao’s mouth is wide open at that, not registering the actual challenge that was just given to him. “You’re actually serious,” he whispers.
“Deadly.”
The man with dark hair blinks a few times in contempt and ends his train of thoughts with a deep sigh, “Okay, let’s do it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, sure,” he replies, “I can’t pass up a chance to completely humiliate you.”
Hanbin chuckles at that too, nodding with his eyes closed and two thin dimples appearing on his cheeks. “Okay, okay, we will see about that,” he concludes, finishing the bun with one last bite and standing up from his chair.
“Just do me a favor, Hao, and I’m saying this for your own good,” he says, suddenly in a very grave tone, placing the mug he was previously drinking from in the sink and moving towards the living room.
Hao hums in acknowledgment, waiting for the other to continue.
“Don’t fall in love with me.”
Hao has a physical reaction to the words, almost falling over the table as he laughs so hard there are tears in his eyes. When he turns around to give Hanbin a look, he finds the other laughing just as hard as him after the sentence.
“I want you ready to go at 8 p.m. precisely, Zhang Hao.” He hears from the living room as he still giggles alone in the kitchen, shaking his head. “And wear something casual; we’re not going anywhere fancy!”
It’s 7.58 p.m. when he gets out of his bedroom after changing his clothes and styling his hair—he wasn’t entirely sure on how to dress until the very last minute when he takes a tight gray tank top, a pair of straight, baggy jeans lost somewhere in his closet, and their matching denim shirt on top.
He takes a peek at the big mirror in his room before leaving, and he thanks Ricky almost ten times over and over again for gifting him this specific denim set he is wearing and also for suggesting to wear his white briefs under the pants; he loves seeing the line of the boxers peek out from them, and the brand name of the item spelled in big black letters all over his waist makes him feel content in the final result, but he still decides to button up the shirt just to have something up his sleeve that he can use against Hanbin during their date.
He finishes with a simple necklace and earrings that he finds on top of the little table they have in their entrance. As he starts having problems with the tiny lock of the necklace, his image in the mirror on the wall by the door looking back at him in annoyance, a sharp ‘din’ makes his head turn towards the wooden door.
He frowns, not sure who might be at this hour of the day, but he recalls Hanbin saying something about Gyuvin wanting to try out some sort of new videogame, so he deduces it’s him.
When he holds the door handle, however, and opens it, a smiling Hanbin is staring right back at him from the hallway of their building. He has a black leather jacket on, the one he has complimented him on more than once, and paired with an equally dark top and jeans.
As much as he hates to admit this to himself—Hanbin looks frustratingly good.
“What are you doing?” he asks, after scanning his whole figure.
“I am here to take you out on a date,” the blond replies, like it was the most obvious conclusion to his actions.
“We literally live together,” Hao notes, shaking his head at the other’s antics, giggling a little bit but only receiving a dismissive wave of a hand in return.
“So, are you ready?” Hanbin is tapping his hand on the door frame, darting his eyes to analyze him just as Hao was doing moments before.
“Yes, just need to put this stupid necklace on,” he mumbles mostly to himself as he turns back to the mirror and attempts to defeat the evil little lock once again.
Hanbin is behind him in a second, their similar height making it easier for him to take the thin silver chain from his hands and bring it back around his neck, his fingers brushing every once in a while against his skin and sending a few shivers down his spine.
He manages to bring together the hook and the eye clasp on the two ends in a heartbeat, moving the silver charm in front and letting it fall down his chest as Hao feels Hanbin’s body getting a little bit closer to him—his head pops up behind him at the closeness. The shadow of a smile lingering on his lips as he tilts his head to take a better look at Hao’s image reflected on the mirror.
“You look very pretty,” he breathes out, causing the older to gulp down some saliva as they exchange an amused look.
“Thank you,” he says back, batting his eyelashes and smiling. “You look very good too.”
Hanbin smiles wider at that and keeps the door open to let them both out. The last push Hao needs to turn off the light inside their apartment and put his shoes on quickly.
“So, where are we going?” he asks after they exit the building—of course, Hanbin keeps the big glass door open for him to get out first, which makes Hao roll his eyes.
“I thought of taking you to the fanciest place in town at first,” the blond says, putting his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. “But I’m pretty sure every restaurant employer would have laughed at my face if I had asked to book a table for dinner this morning.”
Hao chuckles, following him and happily walking around campus by his side. He notices that there aren’t a lot of people out, even though the weather feels amazing—the air is still warm, or at least not cold enough to feel chills, but there is a nice chill breeze that hits him every now and then. He will most definitely take off his shirt at some point during the evening.
“It’s okay, you know I’m not picky,” he says when they take a turn left, his instincts suddenly kicking in as he remembers the main street they’re crossing. “Oh, my God,” he exclaims, holding onto Hanbin’s arm in ecstasy. “Are we going to that cute ramen place near your dance studio?”
Hanbin laughs at the unexpected excitement and nods, “Yes, I remember you saying you wanted to go back there again but could never find the right time.”
“You’re already gaining points just because of this; it’s not fair,” he pouts, leaving Hanbin’s arm and walking faster to get away from him.
“How are you complaining already?”
“Shut up, move faster. I’m hungry now.”
“Coming, coming.”
The little shop is as cute as he remembers—cute dim lights outside with a few tables out front and multiple banners decorating the big glass windows.
They take a place outside just because the weather is so nice and also because it seems more private given the few tables full of people that they can see from the street.
The evening starts pretty normally; they chat with each other like they always do—Hanbin tells him about the latest piece they need to study and about how he is getting a lot more involved in choreographing nowadays, which makes him busier, but he also likes it better. Hao confesses that he is way too tired and stressed out since there is a very intense exam session right around the corner and he still has a lot of stuff left to study, and also that he thinks of changing his mattress because his back has been hurting a little for the past month, which makes Hanbin frown with worry.
It all goes smoothly, really, and they both forget for a while the reason why they’re out in the first place.
When the two bowls full of piping hot ramen come to their tables, they both dig in happily. Hao giggles at the little dance Hanbin starts doing when he tastes the broth, the one he does when the food is so good he can't stop his body from reacting.
“Oh, it’s so good, wow,” Hao comments after the first few bites. “We should definitely come here more often.”
Hanbin laughs, “I come with the guys from the dance studio all the time, but the building where you study is all the way across campus.”
“I should just drop out and enroll in another course just to be closer to this place,” he says around his chopsticks as he eats more noodles.
"Self-destructing tendencies aside,” Hanbin chuckles. “Have you decided what the winner of tonight’s date gets?”
Hao pauses from eating and only gives him a curious look. “We need a trophy or something? I thought we were competing for pride and honor.”
Hanbin hums, pondering, while he rests his chopsticks and brings his hands to hold his jacket and then takes it off completely, laying it behind the chair he is sitting in.
It shouldn’t really have any effect on Hao—he already knows everything that is lying underneath the jacket. He knows about the shoulders Hanbin possesses and his toned arms. He even knows about the black inked phrase present on his bicep, and yet...
He gulps, staring at the black tank top enveloping the other’s figure, so much skin exposed all of a sudden he doesn’t really know where to look.
“Is this one of your techniques, Sung Hanbin? Is our little game starting already?” He inquires, resting an elbow on the table and smirking at the man in front of him.
“Just got hot all of a sudden, nothing else,” he replies, taking back the chopsticks and giving him an inquisitive stare. “What are you looking at, Hao?”
He shakes his head, the smile not leaving his face once as he gets back to eat, too. “You are so unserious,” he chuckles. “I haven’t thought about what I will get, but since you will sadly lose, I might as well leave the honor of choosing the prize to you.”
“You are always so confident,” Hanbin whispers. “It’s going to be the reason why you lose.”
Hao doesn’t reply—he only gives him one specific look that has made many people before Hanbin blush and stutter. Ricky has told him multiple times how he probably doesn’t even notice the way it affects the people around him, but Hao knows.
He knows his eyes are pretty; he knows they hold a lot of power for no particular reason. He had started noticing after so many of his dates gave in to almost everything he ever asked of them when he would sport a particular look, or a jut of his bottom lip.
He likes feeling powerful, especially when one Sung Hanbin stands before him, a beautiful attentive gaze and pretty thin fingers tapping on the table, a light shade of pink appearing on his cute cheeks.
“Whoever wins doesn’t get to say a word about the dates we bring back home,” he says after some time of thinking. “No jokes, no mocking, nothing.”
Hanbin lets out a pondering “Mh” as he eats a little dumpling before taking another one and raising his arm to hold it in front of Hao, one drop of broth falling on the table.
They don’t speak as they exchange a look heavy of something he can’t exactly put his finger on—the older simply bends over, brings his tongue out the same time he wraps his lips around the chopsticks, and envelopes the dumpling completely, humming positively at the taste.
They have done this so many times before that it shouldn't leave a tickling feeling in the depths of Hao’s stomach. He has fed Hanbin countless times just like Hanbin has done with him too, like they did the same morning, hours earlier, but this felt different somehow.
Hanbin has his eyes set on his lips, so focused on them Hao thinks he will start blushing at any minute now, with that one serious look he shows when he is examining his dance videos or when he is reading something important.
Hao feels almost lightheaded at the eye contact and the gesture because Hanbin knows how much he likes to be taken care of; he knows Hao gloats at every little caring action he gets, whether it is feeding or messaging his shoulders after a hard day at work, or—
“I don't think I ever told you about how pretty your lips are,” Hanbin blurts out when he retracts his arm. “I guess your infinite collection of lip glosses and balms has a goal,” he chuckles.
Hao has to roll his eyes at that, ordering his own heart to stop beating so fast. “Does that work on a lot of people?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “The praises and compliments?”
“Usually,” Hanbin shrugs his shoulders, smiling, probably finding the situation they're in entertaining. “But you have the best lips I've seen so far.”
“Yes, I can believe that,” he nods, running a hand through his hair; he does it automatically every now and then, out of habit.
“So, no more mocking if the other wins?”
Hao gets thrown back to the main conversation they were having. “Yes.”
“Would you be able to do it, though? You love teasing,” he says, dragging out the word ‘love’ dramatically.
“Stop making it sound like you already got this in the bag." Hao’s eyes are into two thin slits, accusing his roommate.
“C’mon, then,” Hanbin’s voice gets a bit louder. “Show me one of your moves.”
Hao takes a deep breath and puts his chopsticks down. He moves slightly to get more comfortable on the chair and pushes it closer to the table, reaching out with his hand across the table and placing it gently on Hanbin’s exposed forearm lying on the wooden surface.
“So, how did your last class go? You were pretty worried about that, weren't you?” he asks, all of a sudden as a few fingers move softly on the other's skin.
Hanbin seems a bit taken aback, as he blinks a few times and darts his eyes from Hao’s face to where he put his hand. He hums, “It went well; it was my first time teaching, but,” he stops talking to gulp at the airy touch on his forearm—Hao’s fingers moving up and down slowly as he stares at him, waiting for Hanbin to continue.
“Everyone was very nice, super active, and I thought it was going to be way more difficult honestly, but it went so well except for that move I told you about; that was the hardest part to teach,” he rants, while Hao only nods, big eyes focused on listening to what the other was saying.
His fingers run through Hanbin’s arm, then they find the hand, and they play with one or two of them, tapping and hovering over them, and then going back to the forearm, like it was a little game Hao was playing thoughtlessly while still keeping direct eye contact with Hanbin, who is talking.
“But I think I did a pretty good job, overall. They were all so happy and thanked me a lot after we finished, so I guess I did good,” the younger chuckles—he doesn't miss the way his teeth pull at the bottom lip when Hao tilts his head, nodding once more and jutting out his lips in understanding.
“Of course you did good, you are amazing at what you do,” he says, honestly, and it causes the man in front of him to blush more, red tones taking over his face. “You are so diligent and hard-working, always taking care of everyone,” he continues. His index plays over Hanbin’s knuckles, one after the other, as he speaks.
The younger’s cheeks get more crimson shades in them by the second, his Adam’s apple moving almost nervously as he suddenly retracts his arm from the table and looks at Hao with wide eyes.
“Oh, wow,” he murmurs, startled. “You’re good, that was good,” he says, making Hao giggle wholeheartedly.
“What the fuck?” Hanbin is still trying to get a hold of himself while clearing his throat and giving him a dirty look. “That was not fair; you’re just using what you know works with me.”
“You do have a thing for praises; it’s not my fault,” Hao defends himself, grabbing the chopsticks and eating a few noodles—they must have been talking for quite some time because they’re not as warm anymore, but he still happily slurps them.
“Wow, so you didn’t mean any of that?”
Hao rolls his eyes at that. “Of course I did. I’m constantly complimenting you, but I never touch you like that when I do.”
“So, that’s one of your big moves?” Hanbin raises an eyebrow. “The,” he nudges at the spot where their hands had met a few seconds ago on the table. “The caressing and all that?”
“Oh, you have no idea what my big moves are, Sung Hanbin,” he whispers, squinting. “You wouldn’t survive them. This was just a tiny appetizer.”
“Show me.”
Hao didn’t mean for the next sentence to be so full of meaning—he wanted to keep the teasing going, all his senses heightened by how stimulated he feels around Hanbin, just wanting to provoke, arouse, or induce any kind of reaction from the man in front of him. He really didn’t mean for the words to have so much weight...
“I would have to take you back to my place for that.”
…But they do.
Hanbin has a curious expression on. It is something new that Hao doesn’t remember ever witnessing—he is staring at him with purpose and eagerness. The silence that follows the words is more loaded with tension than he would ever expect, because this is the closest they have ever gotten to suggesting they take action on maybe months of buildup desire.
Watching Hanbin harden his jaw slightly at the sentence makes some prickling tingles appear at the back of his neck. He wants to investigate that more; he wants to know why he’s having this reaction. Is it the set of sharp eyes on him? The exposed arms flexing at every movement? Is it the soft-looking hands holding the chopsticks? Hao wants to know, he wants to touch Hanbin more and whisper more sweet words to him until he breaks him—until he finally finds the key able to open the lock holding his composure together.
“Is that another one of your moves?” Hanbin says after some time, “Do you use the line a lot?”
He takes a deep breath and giggles at the question, "Yes.” He lies through his teeth, “It works most of the time.”
Hanbin nods, the corner of his lips turning upwards, the tension between them slightly shifting to something more comfortable, something that doesn’t make Hao feel like he’s going on fire. Because it's not only the way Hanbin’s eyes are on him; it’s the way he talks, the way his cheeks blush slightly, so prettily, when he moves his arms and he can see the toned muscles, and his delicate tattoo is completely exposed, so how can Hao not stare, lick his lips, and fantasize about kissing him right on that tattoo while Hanbin fucks him?
He sighs. Hanbin gives him a worried look. “Everything good?”
Hao just nods, the fingers of his right hand nervously fiddling with his earrings. “Yes, I was just thinking about all the time I will save by not listening to you whine about my dates.”
Hanbin laughs at that, throwing his head back while holding some noodles in the air above his bowl. “Oh, you’re cute.”
They finish eating rather quickly, Hanbin still looking incredibly good and making his thoughts go someplace entirely more than once—sue him, the black tank top is so hot he might consider ripping it apart right in front of everyone, and Hanbin does this thing where he smiles in such an attractive way when they talk about dancing, and Hao is only a weak man.
He still wants to win, though, so he keeps touching Hanbin every chance he gets; he even goes as far as to slightly press his foot against his sheen and raise it dangerously higher during the dinner, which makes Hanbin almost choke on noodles while blushing and stuttering for a few full minutes.
There doesn’t seem to be a winner, however.
Hao rolls his eyes some time later in the evening. “I can pay for our dinner, you know?”
“Well, I was the one who asked you out on a date, so don’t worry,” Hanbin explains before entering the shop to pay.
He sighs while waiting, and he suddenly remembers about the shirt he has on—he engages with the buttons to let the shirt open and reveal his gray top. There is a new sense of anticipation burning in him now. He plays with a little stone on the ground, kicking it and giggling to himself.
Hanbin is back rather quickly, but his steps come to a halt as he takes a look at Hao. The little smile he had on disappears completely while he moves his eyes up and down—oh, this was definitely worth it.
He watches attentively as Hanbin gulps and gets closer; his eyes are still set on his body. He lowers his head, and it assumes it is specifically the lower abdomen part that works its magic.
“You okay there, Hanbinie?” he asks, not innocently enough, apparently because Hanbin looks at him darkly, knowingly. He knows he did this with a specific intent behind it, and it makes him even more pleased in some weird way.
“Yeah, doing great,” Hanbin only grits, taking more steps forward and stopping right in front of him, dangerously close. “Fucking great,” he repeats, raising both arms to hold the buttoned plackets with a few fingers and pulling gently.
“Aren’t you going to be cold?” The blond whispers, gripping the two extremities of the material and closing the shirt a little, an attempt to cover him that fails immediately when Hao holds his curious hands into his own to stop them.
“No, I feel pretty hot right now,” he shrugs.
They lock eyes, a quiet challenge being thrown between the two of them as they study each other's expressions, the pool of hotness and need coming back and hitting Hao at once all over again like it did when they were sitting.
Hanbin ends up nodding, moving his hands from the front of the show and placing them around his waist—there is a shift in the younger’s behavior, and it's so explicit it becomes funny.
He can't believe this outfit was really what threw him off his game.
They make a quick detour to take a stroll around the lake before going home, a serene walk filled with nice laughter and anecdotes from the past that the other doesn't know.
Hanbin tells him about the time Gyuvin made him gulp down vodka instead of water by accident, which causes Hao to hold onto his arm from laughter, and Hao narrates about the recent memory of Ricky playing Daddy's Home by Usher at full volume in someone else's apartment through a technical problem with his speaker and the Bluetooth, that makes Hanbin laugh so hard he squeezes at his waist a little bit harder.
Hanbin gets way touchier; he is brushing against his hand when they walk and holding his waist when he gets closer, stroking his back every now and then, and Hao feels dizzy just from it.
The blond isn't even trying to hide it anymore—he is absolutely enchanted by his outfit, and his eyes follow every little one of his movements when they get inside the elevator of their building later on.
He gets closer instantly when the doors close, and Hao pushes the round button, displaying the floor they live on.
“This is,” he gulps; the words seem to die in his throat as he raises an arm to let a few fingers brush against his tummy, one touch even getting to his exposed portion of skin. “This is not fair, Hao,” he finishes after a few seconds, taking another step forward and pushing him softly against the wall where the big display of buttons and alarms is.
“Why?” he whispers, content at the reaction he is getting, almost feeling giddy at the sight of Hanbin being hypnotized by his abdomen.
“Because,” he begins, but he has to stop again to touch more and expand his palm completely on his stomach, lifting just enough to show a little bit more of his soft skin. “Because,” he repeats again, slower, lower as he traces a light line right above the waistband of his pants with his index. But Hanbin never gets to finish.
“Lots of stuttering from the guy who started the night so confidently.” Hao teases, making Hanbin’s head lift, distracting him for a tiny bit from his outfit.
“I can't do what I really want to do,” he replies with such a low voice Hao feels every word echoing in the small space they're in; he feels them like Hanbin is carving them on his skin. “What I have been dreaming to do since the first night you brought someone back home.”
Hao is utterly entertained now—and achingly turned on. So he moves his right arm to take Hanbin’s hand away from his front and pulls him closer to let him hold his waist.
“And what is that, Hanbinie? Tell me,” he pushes some more, squeezing his hand harder and letting the warm skin touch him even more by bringing it underneath his own top. “Tell me,” he breathes out right near his ear, grinning.
Hanbin clutches his side gently, and he takes another step forward, their chest touching as he guides his free hand on the other side of his waist, holding with more strength while Hao comes in contact with the cold leather of his jacket.
Hanbin gets even closer, bending slightly to leave a soft peck right under his ear, something that makes Hao’s toes almost curl. This was getting unbearable.
“If you think I'm letting you win this easily, you're in for a rude awakening,” he can feel the smile on his skin as Hanbin pulls back from his neck and huffs a chuckle.
“You look awfully flustered, Hao,” the blond points out, taking his hands off of him and even going as far as patting down his top right after putting it back in place, covering his stomach back again.
“You are a fucking,” he starts, but the doors of the elevator open, and Hanbin is already shushing him as he steps outside, showing Hao is back.
Hanbin is the first to enter their apartment, hopeful he can hide the half-boner present in his jeans, with Hao right behind him, who closes the door and locks it before throwing his keys on the little ceramic bowl they have at the entrance.
He takes off his shoes and his jacket too as he turns on the lights and giggles at a short flashback he gets from moments earlier in the elevator.
Hao is still looking at him with a cold gaze, probably annoyed from the event that took place in the little cubicle of their building—it weirdly satisfies him, the concrete proof of at least having some power over him when it usually is the contrary.
“So, is there something else you do when the date is over, or do we agree that there is no winner?” he says, amused, when he steps into the living room and watches Hao as he follows him after getting rid of his shoes.
Some sick part of his brain wished for a miracle to happen—for Hao’s whole outfit to have been replaced by something else—anything at this point when he lets his eyes wander on the older man’s whole figure, but it is still there. The tight top is still on, the visible briefs too, and God, does he look deliciously good.
“I think you were really close to losing back there,” Hao comments, taking some steps closer to him as they both stand in the room, studying each other.
“Please,” he scoffs, offended, but the voice in his head is mocking him too because Hanbin wasn’t just close to losing; he was dangerously within reach of stopping the whole elevator and giving whoever is in charge of security a real spectacle through the security camera. But he doesn’t say that, of course.
“You are strangely cocky for someone who was about to whimper in my ear,” he decides to blurt out, chuckling at the sight of Hao rolling his eyes.
“Shut up, no, I wasn’t,” the other stiffens. “You just caught me off guard.”
“Mh,” Hanbin nods teasingly. “So I guess this is it?”
They exchange a look—Hao is sporting that little pout that makes Hanbin want to drop on his knees and beg for anything the other will give him, but he resists and takes a deep breath; he should mentally count to ten to keep his self-control intact.
Hao lowers his head to adjust his top lightly, making sure it doesn’t overlap with the waistband of his briefs and hums afterwards, and Hanbin has to squeeze his eyes shut to avoid staring at the action.
Maybe to one hundred.
“Yeah, I guess this is it,” he agrees, turning his head up and peering from his eyelashes. “It was fun.”
Hanbin nods too, stealing a quick glance at Hao’s lips before going back to looking him in the eyes and saying, “It was.”
“So, no winner.” the older repeats, probably making sure they are on the same page, maybe one last attempt to come out victorious.
“No winner,” he confirms, raising his arm in the small space between them, waiting for the other to reach for it.
Hao gives it a quick look before raising his own hand and holding it—a soft handshake.
There are so many unsaid words in that small gesture, so many scenarios that could be taking place instead, and by the way Hao’s eyes linger on their hands, and then on Hanbin’s face, he can tell he feels it too.
Hanbin likes Hao; he always has. He ponders if it would be wise to ruin their little house of cards made of sweet chats in the kitchen, nice walks at night by the river, and friendly banter with one last step.
That’s all it would take—one single step big enough to unravel their hands and pull Hao closer to him, kissing him like he has been wanting to do since forever.
Would it be wise?
Hao seems to take that decision for him, as he parts his hand and clears his throat. “Goodnight, then.”
Hanbin licks his lips nervously and nods, hoping to not let the other see the disappointment he is feeling inside. “Goodnight, Hao.”
He watches the older pass by him and enter his room, a trail of violet leaves following him as he is left alone with the low murmuring sound of their refrigerator coming from the kitchen and the view of their entrance.
He brings a hand on his chest when he hears Hao’s bedroom door close to check up on his heart rate; he almost feels like he’s suffocating.
His feet move before his brain can even elaborate what his body is doing. He turns around and strides towards Hao’s room, not even bothering to knock on the white door as he clutches at the handle and pushes.
His roommate is sitting on the edge of the bed and blinks quickly as he looks at Hanbin standing in front of him, his forehead furrowed in confusion.
“What’s wrong?”
But Hanbin is so overwhelmed by the entirety of their evening together that he simply takes a seat on the little black armchair opposite Hao’s bed and rests his elbows on his knees, his gray socks the only thing he can focus on right now before snapping his head back to the man on the bed. He doesn’t reply to the question but poses another one.
“Do you want it as badly as I do, Hao?”
The older man understands immediately, and Hanbin would like to concentrate on the fact that he knew exactly what he was talking about, but all he can think about is Hao—his dark hair that seems redder under the dim yellow lights of his room, his serious expression, the parted glossy lips he can still see and almost taste if he thought about it hard enough, that cursed outfit still on.
“Yes,” Hao only says, staring at him. “Yes, I do.” He can see his chest moving faster.
“We fucking live together,” Hanbin spits out, with a touch of anger in his voice. “We live together, and this could ruin everything.” He slides off the armchair a little bit, resting his back against the soft material and spreading his legs to get more comfortable—he doesn’t even know if that’s possible given the conversation they’re having and the tension sending electrifying waves throughout his body.
“That’s true,” Hao agrees, but it doesn’t sound like he is entirely, like he is paying too much attention to something else, deep in thoughts.
“We can’t do it.”
“We can't.” Again, his voice is small and sounds like some automatic, robotic response that is responding negatively to something it doesn’t fully comprehend.
“So we don’t,” he comes to the horrid conclusion, sighing deeply and resting his right elbow on the arm of the chair, bringing a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as he contemplates. “We don’t do anything about it, then. We keep being roommates who are very good friends and bring home dates on occasions,” he looks at Hao, waiting for a confirmation.
The older man just hums in response, gulping, and then finally something snaps. “Do you have any fucking clue of how hot you look right now?”
Hanbin frowns, pushing with two fingers at his temple for some sort of release. “What?”
“You look so good, I have wanted to suck you off since you took a seat.” The honesty makes him blink so many times he thinks he is officially going insane. “Was the outfit just to win our little game, or do you actually have no idea how hot you look?”
“I should be the one asking you that,” he responds instantly, the unsaid lewd thoughts hidden for the entirety of their evening together, all popping up in his mind at the same time.
“I know, and I did it on purpose,” his slim arms shift to allow him to get rid of the shirt he has kept open for a few hours, revealing the gray tank top underneath completely, exposing so much new skin and causing Hanbin’s hand to clutch desperately at the armchair. “You think I never noticed the lingering gazes when I wore tops shorter than usual?”
Hanbin inhales sharply, lowering his eyes to the thin strip of skin he almost ended up worshiping in the elevator minutes ago. “Hao,” he only has the strength to beg.
“So, was it all part of the game? Is this?” He gestures to both of them, tilting his head, a few dark strands falling in front of his eyes. “Are we still playing?”
“I don’t know, I just,” he sighs, passing a hand on his face, exhausted by the unholy sight in front of him. “I just want you so bad.”
“You can have me, Hanbinie,” Hao replies softly, placing his hands behind him on both sides of his body and letting him observe more of him—Hanbin takes it all in like a famished man. “Just say I’m the winner, and you can have all of me.”
His heart is about to burst as he covers his mouth with his hand, so many chaotic voices screaming in his head at the same time as he keeps staring at the other; the top riding higher at every movement and the pretty shoulders make him black out momentarily.
“I know you want this just as much as I do,” he argues. “You think I never noticed when you shamelessly stared at my back? Or my arms?”
And he can see that he's right by the way Hao’s lips twitch at the accusation, the shadow of a faint pout about to come to life, but he doesn't say anything. Hao sits straighter and squeezes the edge of the top with both hands, taking it off completely with such grace it gets a low groan out of him.
“Fuck,” he whispers; he doesn't even know if it's directed to the other man on the bed or himself, his right hand descending to his lap just to make the aching boner restricted in his pants get some kind of peace.
“I need to know if this will ruin anything between us, Hao,” he begs. He doesn't care if it's pathetic; he cares too deeply about his bond with his roommate to let one night of, what he already knows will be mind-blowing, sex be the cause it breaks.
Hao sighs, and Hanbin thinks he also rolls his eyes, but he is standing now, walking carefully towards him as the dim lights cast a mouthwatering warm hue on his perfect upper body, the muscles tensing at every step and making him jealous of the shadows that get to touch him.
When he is close enough to pose both hands on the sides of the armchair, he bends over to be at the same eye level as him, his pants rubbing against his own jeans. “We both like each other, Hanbinie. I know you do, and I can assure you, I feel the same way.”
His breathing is irregular as he stares at his plump lips just one kiss away from his and then at his eyes, charged with emotions.
Hanbin spreads his legs even more to let the other get in between them, but Hao seems to have a different plan in mind since he stands again just to hook one of his knees on his left and the other one on his right, succeeding in lowering himself right on his lap.
His reaction is so quick he thinks he breaks both wrists as he reaches for Hao’s waist, holding it with both hands open and letting them squeeze the flesh there.
The weight on him is so delicious he doesn't question for one second his comfort; he would probably still be comfortable right now if there was a fire pit beneath him. He doesn't care. All he can make sense of right now is Hao, half naked on top of him, straddling him enough to create an eye-rolling pressure on his dick, beautiful eyes looking at him and hands deep into his blond hair, playing with a few strands.
“Do you really feel the same?” One of the last strings holding onto his self-control asks the question, his tongue slipping out to wet his surprisingly dry lips. “No games, no teasing.”
Hao smirks a little, brushing against his neck before talking. “I have liked you for months, Hanbin,” he says, bringing his lips to his ear, arching his back to get closer and letting him wander right at the curve of his covered ass. “Always so caring, always so sweet, so funny and kind,” he leaves the softest of kisses under his ear before moving lower on his neck. “So pretty, poised, and hardworking. You're perfect, how could I not like you?”
The words are like the strongest kind of drug being injected straight into his system—he bashes in every single one of them, letting them poison his already clouded mind. He wants to break Hao in the best way possible and give in to every one of his requests till there is nothing left for him to offer.
“And I know you like me too, Hanbinie,” he continues, not waiting for an answer and dipping his tongue on his skin, creating a hot, boiling trail of wetness. He bites back a moan by sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, and he presses his hands on Hao’s back more harshly, pulling him closer to his chest as he lets his hands roam on the older man’s thighs too, wishing for the pants to just disappear off of him.
“Of course I do,” he inhales, Hao’s perfume intoxicating him in the best way possible. “The amount of times I have wanted you to get rid of those guys you bring home and just,” his sentence is cut short by a hiss as a reaction to Hao rolling his hips just enough to make their visible erections meet.
“And what? What would you have done?” He puts even more pressure on his upper thighs, hungrily biting down his skin, then giving some attention to the ink on his chest, sucking on it, a deep moan coming out of him as Hao separates from him and shoves a hand between them until he reaches Hanbin’s bulge.
“Would have shown you just how much I like you,” he pants against the other's parted lips, their foreheads almost brushing while Hao’s hand is too busy palming the outline of his cock and staring into his eyes with sheer hunger.
“Yeah?” Their lips are barely touching, and they can both feel each other's breath crush against their mouths—Hanbin is a few seconds away from completely ruining the man on his lap who is pulling his hips down harder and undoing the button of his black jeans with two fingers.
Hanbin can't wait any longer, and he takes the last final action to let their lips meet in a kiss so desperate and greedy—a primal instinct to suck on his bottom lip as he registers the obscene sounds of their kissing.
He lets out a strangled noise when Hao pulls at his hair with a free hand, tilting his head to distance their faces a little and look down on him, letting their eyes meet. “Can you do that for me now, Hanbinie?” he asks, languid sweet voice coming through the heavy breathing. “Can you fuck me like none of them ever could?” His hand gets past the jeans and underwear, and his cold fingers wrap around his cock.
Hanbin wants to scream positively; he wants to beg Hao for a chance to show him, to please him any way possible, to let him know just how good he can be for him, how much better he is than any other person that has ever touched him like this—he wants to carve his own name on Hao’s skin with kisses until he only knows Hanbin’s name.
He nods, “Yes, yes,” he stutters in-between kisses, “I can do that.” He keeps nodding, saliva pooling in his mouth as he desires for Hao to touch more of him and to praise him more.
“Good boy,” Hao mumbles softly, making all his wishes come true, pressing his thumb on the already wet head of his cock. He whispers one single ‘Fuck’ before he grasps Hao’s thighs with both hands and stands up, making the man in his arms yelp in surprise.
“Oh, my God,” he gasps at the sudden position, holding tight onto him with both legs and arms as Hanbin guides them both to the bed. “Oh, we are definitely doing this again, Sung Hanbin,” he breathes out in his ear, a light giggle following while he gets placed on the clean sheets.
He holds his weight on both elbows as he stares at him from the bed, his pink tongue licking his lips; the sight is borderline dangerous. Hao is so beautiful it makes him speechless; the absurdity of having him naked and pliant on the bed seems like something straight out of his imagination.
“First drawer of the nightstand,” he tells him then, nudging at the little furniture piece on his left, and Hanbin is quick to comply, moving frenetically to get one of the condoms he sees as soon as he opens the drawer and a little bottle of lube that he throws on the bed near the other man.
He goes back to Hao in a heartbeat, standing in front of him—he wants to enjoy the view some more as he fully drags the zipper of his jeans open with two fingers, holding Hao in place with a stare.
The older winces, like he's hurting, before he lets his head fall on the bed, and it brings a laugh out of Hanbin. He wasn't really expecting Hao to be this impatient, but he is, and he loves every single second of it.
Hao lifts his head after a while, gulping, his teeth pulling at his bottom lip. “I need you to fuck my throat next time,” he says so casually.
Hanbin groans, pulling Hao by the ankles and dragging him closer to him—another cute yelp filling the air. “Are you crazy? You can't just say stuff like that.”
“Please, just do something," He whines out loud, probably waiting for Hanbin to touch him more and give him what he so desperately wants.
“Off, off.” Hao’s shivering hands are everywhere on his chest as he spreads his legs to let Hanbin get inside the space between them—he knows he is talking about the black tank top he has on, so he wastes no time in getting rid of it and throwing it somewhere on Hao’s bedroom floor before diving back into another kiss, wet lips finding him immediately.
It’s sloppy, it’s messy, with so much need and desire behind it, months of want condensed into teeth pulling at his lip and tongues finding each other in their mouths.
While kissing, Hanbin thanks every God who made it possible for Hao to wear these baggy pants because with two smooth motions, one leg at a time, they’re off of him completely in a bunch of seconds.
“I need more, please." Hao is purring in his ear after separating their mouths from, “Please, give me more.”
And Hanbin would rather die than not satisfy Hao in any way he can, so he takes off his briefs too—the damn white briefs that have tortured him for hours, peeking from the pants, teasing him—and throws them in the air behind him too.
Hao is completely naked under him, and he wishes he could be able to paint from memory, just to let all the little, perfect details of his soft skin and beautiful muscles live through history. Hao deserves to be worshiped through every form of art known, and he would love for nothing more than to kiss every small portion of flesh he can; maybe he will when they have more time on their hands.
He pumps Hao’s dick a few times, one hand more than enough to cover most of his length, not able to fight the grin on his face when he jolts at the touch, a soft ‘Fuck’ filling the air.
“I could devour you,” the words slip right out of his lips before he can stop them, but at this point he doesn’t even care—all he can concentrate on is Hao and his pretty mewls, his cute pants, and the parted, slick lips combined with those needy eyes. “All this time, all those people,” he shakes his head, stroking him more and then pressing his hands on his thighs to pull him closer. “I could have ruined you for good if you had only asked, Hao.”
“What makes you think you’re better at this than any of them?”
He shouldn’t take the bait—Hanbin really shouldn’t because Hao is a brat and he likes to tease him so bad it is only logical he would do it in a sexual context too.
And yet, as he looks at him shamelessly smirking at him from the bed, Hanbin’s response to the provocation is to softly press his thumb on the slit of Hao’s erection still in his hand, his knees buckling at that. “Oh, I know you have heard the screams coming from my room more than once.”
“That doesn’t prove anything,” the older man bites back, gulping down and nudging at the little bottle beside him Hanbin had previously tossed on the bed. “Now, can you move?”
“Always so demanding,” he chuckles, following the order anyways and pushing the bottle cap open with a thumb, leaving Hao’s dick.
“I shouldn’t even comply with your requests, now that I think about it,” he comments, reaching out for one of the numerous pillows his roommate has on the bed and bringing it underneath Hao’s back—the other lifting himself in a split second as soon as he understood what he was doing.
“I think you should shut up and fuck me,” the words die in his mouth as Hanbin pours some of the lube on Hao’s entrance before his middle finger pushes through the ring of muscles, causing the older to squeeze his knees together, but Hanbin is fast to pull them apart again, rather roughly, with a free hand.
“Admit I’m the winner, and I’ll do everything you want me to,” he almost growls, spreading Hao and feeling dizzy at the amount of incoherent little sounds that slip from the man’s lips.
“Stop being a fucking asshole and just,” he can’t even finish the sentence when Hanbin pushes another finger inside of him, his hips shakily matching the pace as he rubs against the pads of his fingers to feel more. “Oh my, God,” he cries out, his eyes rolling back and his lids closing at the overwhelming movements of Hanbin’s fingers.
The blond is too deep to notice anything else—he can’t wait for when his cock will be buried inside of him just like his fingers are right now, moving in and out, stretching his hole—all the heat around him—it makes him see stars just thinking about it.
“I’m ready, I’m ready, please just, please,” the incoherent begging is enough for Hanbin to take out his fingers.
“Are you sure?” he asks anyways, just because the last thing he wanted to do was hurt Hao in ways that were definitely not hot or pleasurable, but he gets a furious nod in return and a cute, alarmingly attractive stare, big, wet brown eyes looking at him, his swollen lips and flushed cheeks—his breath hitches.
Hanbin lowers himself to let their lips meet once more; all the wetness and messiness of it all makes them both moan right into each other’s mouths. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers while separating and stroking Hao’s thighs with both hands. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Hao.” he says once more before lowering his underwear and jeans enough to take his cock out, the sudden cold air giving him some chills even though he feels he's running with a fever with the way is looking at him.
He positions himself better between Hao’s legs and brings the small plastic square to his teeth, biting hard enough to rip it and pull it with his fingers to open it.
“Fuck,” he hears Hao whimper from underneath; his hooded eyes look almost filled with hurt as he watches him, but Hanbin assumes is want. “Faster, Hanbin, please,” he urges him, and it would normally make him giggle if it wasn’t for the desperation they’re both feeling while he unravels the condom on his length and wets his lips to finally reach Hao’s hole, glimmering with lube.
When he finally pushes through, he feels the older go limp for a second under his fingertips, his muscles tightening at the strain. Hanbin sees white—it’s Hao’s breathless whine, almost inaudible as he sinks into him, his hands on Hanbin’s hair, pulling, then on his shoulders, scratching, gripping tightly as he goes in deeper.
“Hanbin,” Hao can only cry out, his eyes shut, pretty numerous wrinkles around them as he starts thrusting in, splaying a hand across his stomach and then to his waist, keeping him in place. “Oh, my God.”
It's Heaven, Hanbin thinks. The way he looks at his own cock disappear into Hao’s hole, darting his eyes onto the milky thighs muscles flexing, his right hand on top of his left one and the other one into a tight fists, clenching at the cover under him, his hair is such a mess, his skin is flushed in so many places he just keeps his eyes traveling all over his body, to study, to analyze, to venerate.
Hanbin moves his hands to grip at Hao's legs and lifts them high enough to get better access to him—it works wonders because the man beneath him is moaning his name out loud, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he trembles slightly.
“Look at how good you take it,” Hanbin comments, not able to contain himself as he pushes in deeper, the lube creating the smoothest hot trail inside of Hao’s needy hole.
“Have they ever fucked you like this?”
Hao doesn't seem to even hear the question; he looks so out of it, it makes Hanbin grin in satisfaction while he lowers himself to get a hold of his chin, tilting it down to look him in the eyes. "Has anyone? Answer me."
Hao doesn't focus for the first few seconds, but when he does, all Hanbin can see are wet eyes and his head shaking. “No, no, fuck,” he shakes his head more, locking both arms on the back of his legs, right where his knees are, to make it easier for Hanbin to fuck him.
And that he does.
He leaves his chin to spread him further with both hands, to fill him more, and he thanks God for the muscles that dancing has given him because there is nothing more he would like to do right now than to fuck Hao like he truly deserves, so he plants himself better and thrusts in with more strength—the pleasure he is feeling is mind-numbing.
“More, more,” Hao’s greedy voice is made of cute staccatos: “Please, please.” It's an incomprehensible mess of gasps and low moans that go straight to Hanbin's cock, so deep inside him already.
He keeps thrusting and pushing till a rhythmic pace sets in and Hao is trembling at every thrust, at one specifically that gets the loudest moan—that is when he knows he hits the sweetest spot inside him.
There are repetitive imprecations and sweet, sweet ‘Hanbin’s drooling out of his lips, and Hanbin takes it all in as he feels the looming heavy orgasm that is about to hit him.
“There, there,” Hao sobs—it’s the last thing he needs when he brings one hand from Hao's ass to his leaking cock, stroking it and receiving another loud gasp.
“Am I better than them, Hao?” He asks, squeezing the flesh on his thigh with one hand. He thinks it will probably leave a mark, but Hao seems too lost in his own pleasure to mind. “Are you gonna let them touch you again?”
“No,” he half-yells, his legs almost giving in, but Hanbin is there to hold him together until they both finish. “No, only you, please.”
“So close,” he then whines out of control; it makes Hanbin shut his eyes close just to not let the least controlled side of him take over and fuck into Hao until he is a crying mess.
But Hao is so pretty when he looks up to him and tells him, “Please,” in a begging breath, that Hanbin can't do anything else other than be the obedient boy that he is and bury himself deeper into the other with sharper thrusts as he pumps his cock more and sinks with more power into him.
Hao comes first, all over his soft abdomen, with a few white streaks that paint his skin accompanied with the most melodic huffs, and Hanbin follows right behind him, panting and trying to lower his heart rate.
He takes his cock out Hao while he lowers his legs, probably too tired, and a soft sound of disapproval comes from the other as he carefully takes off the condom to tie it up and let it fall on the ground just like their clothes—he will deal with it later.
He falls on Hao without having time to think about it, without even considering the come between them, but he hides his head in the crook of the other’s neck as they both try to catch their breaths—Hanbin’s in a state of bliss that makes it hard not to inhale deeply Hao’s scent, his hands still on the other’s thighs, holding them still while he thinks about the amazing shower that he hopes they will take together to get cleaned.
Hao lets his fingers brush against Hanbin’s head, gently caressing his neck and then his hair, almost patting him like he was a cat. He chuckles softly, making both their chests move. “You are good,” he admits.
“Mh,” Hanbin has the strength to reply, nuzzling in Hao’s neck and causing another giggle to fill the bedroom. “Been wanting to fuck you since forever.”
“That’s a very long time,” Hao hums, amused at the expression on the younger’s face after he pulls him gently by the neck to look at him and leave a feather-like kiss on his lips. “I think I blacked out for a moment there,” he whispers, a cute smile on his face as he gives him another kiss, and Hanbin gloats—he would probably puff out his chest like a proud jerk if he could, the praises only feeding his ego more because they come from Hao.
Hanbin can hear Hao’s heart still beating like crazy under him, and he likes that way too much.
“My good boy,” he continues, almost cooing at him and giving him another slow peck on the lips. “Fucked me so, so well.”
Hanbin moans in his mouth, his hands tracing the soft skin of Hao’s waist with one hand, traveling upwards and then down again, tracing patterns to calm himself down. “You’re going to make me hard again,” he pouts in-between kisses, making Hao giggle cutely.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” the older man winks at him while playing with a few blond strands on his face.
“Well, I think we can both agree I’m the winner,” Hanbin blurts out, receiving a not too harsh slap on the head. “Ouch.”
“No one is agreeing on anything; I won this fair and square.” His offended tone is followed by a sweet kiss, and it confuses and pleases Hanbin at the same time.
“You came first, I’m pretty sure that means you lose.”
“Sung Hanbin, do not even.”
The sound of another kiss fills the bedroom.
“Well, the only solution to this dispute is to go on another date.”
A giggle. “You are such an idiot.”
“And you like this idiot,” Hanbin laughs, emphasizing the word just to torture the other more before he gets up and looks at his chest, a sticky reminder of what they did present on both of them.
“Okay, shower, new clothes, and remind me again about your plans from earlier,” he inquires, dragging Hao by the thighs to the edge of the bed and helping him stand up too, a playful squeal from the other that makes him smile. “Something involving a throat and some fucking being done, let’s elaborate on that later.”
Another slap comes crashing against his arm, but before he can even complain about it, Hao’s sweet lips are on his. “You’re adorable.”
Yes, Hao likes Hanbin just as much as Hanbin likes Hao.