coley_merrin | [Fic] Prerequisites

Title: Prerequisites
Author: Coley Merrin
Rating: R overall (language, sexual situations)
Pairings: Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi
Genre: Angst/smut/fluff, Romance (Aka...the kitchen sink)
Summary: All Kyuhyun thinks he wants is to get into Zhou Mi's pants. All Zhou Mi says that he wants is to protect the band. But just one promise could undo all the secrets that they have been hiding from each other.

***

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four

***

He didn’t have to wait long, Zhou Mi coming back from the shower ever so slightly damp. He ran his eyes up the long legs, realizing Zhou Mi must have forgotten his pajamas, since he was back in his pants. Maybe it was some kind of defense, though. Maybe. He could almost smell the soft scent of his body soap from where he sat with his laptop, watching from beneath his lashes as Zhou Mi carefully used the towel to dry his shampoo and conditioner bottles, setting them back in his special little shower caddy that held everything Zhou Mi could need and more. And with slippers discarded, the bare toes were tapping to some tune it seemed only Zhou Mi could hear.

He approached slowly, as though it were some wild, untamed thing in front of him. In reality, the slowness was for himself, as his mind screamed questions about what the hell he was doing. The others were gone, but they would be back. And if he touched Zhou Mi, now, there was nothing to stop him but his own common sense.

Which seemed to be on permanent leave. He had always been a curious child, and Zhou Mi’s reaction from before had been too much for him to ignore. It would’ve been so much easier if it had been all on his side, because he could have sat on it, indulged his futile fantasies. But Zhou Mi had offered to sleep with him, which was one facet of it But then also actually seeming to want him as well. Zhou Mi was nice, but blindly self-sacrificing…?

It seemed he had been heard, as Zhou Mi turned, curious at Kyuhyun’s so-nonchalant advance.

“Kui Xian?”

What questions he saw in those eyes. Run away while you still have a chance, his mind whispered.

“Hold still, there’s something I want to test,” he said instead.

It happened almost the same as before, the shocked inhale, the arched neck, the strangled moan. From that almost imperceptible press of his lips to the skin of Zhou Mi’s neck. He lingered there, letting his lips, the tip of his nose, trace Zhou Mi’s skin. Waited long enough that he could feel himself start to lose his veneer of control. And when he angled to see, Zhou Mi’s face was severe, brow’s furrowed. And his fists were clenched at his side.

That was part of what he had wanted. In Zhou Mi’s reaction. In his own. Zhou Mi must have thought it was over, trying to speak. But it was so far from over.

“Kui Xian… Oh!”

Zhou Mi’s eyes locked with his, startled, horrified, as Kyuhyun’s hand slid, cupped, the front of Zhou Mi’s skinny trousers. He had wondered, and in some way been afraid that Zhou Mi was not affected by him, not aroused by him.

But the solid warmth beneath his palm said otherwise. Knowing that, feeling that, the way that sounds gurgled in Zhou Mi's throat... He should have run when he had a chance.

“I’m s-sorry,” Zhou Mi stuttered, not seeming to know what was coming out of his mouth. And this the man who had words for anything. “Sorry, I should… I need to…”

He stepped closer, let his hips rock against Zhou Mi’s thigh. “I’m not sorry,” he said, cocking his head.

The proper response at that moment was to take back his hands, let it stand as a tease. No more or less than when he had pressed Zhou Mi up against the wall of the bathroom. He could stumble back to his bed with a laugh, pass it all off as some kind of joking test. Or he could go take his shower, as he was meaning to, and take care of his own problem there. There wasn’t any reason to drag Zhou Mi into his fantasies. Not when they had to look each other in the eye every day.

He had nearly convinced himself to stumble back, to fix this, when he felt a hand, tentative and warm, curl into his lower back. Not pushing him away. Not protesting. Holding him closer. Wanting him. One of his fantasies had been making Zhou Mi moan, hadn’t it? Dropping to his knees, and… It didn’t matter that he didn’t know how. All that mattered was that he wanted. He heard Zhou Mi swallow.

“Kui Xian…”

He couldn't wait longer. He wrestled with the clasp of Zhou Mi’s pants, the zipper. Pushing them and Zhou Mi’s fashionable blue underwear off of his hips. And then forcing him to sit, using the bed as leverage as he sank to the floor.

“Sit still,” he ordered, with more bravado than actually felt. If he screwed this up, there was no going back. “And no hands.”

Zhou Mi did not seem to have words, sitting in some kind of daze as Kyuhyun’s hand closed around him. But has he began to slowly stroke, eyes wandering between his hand and Zhou Mi’s face, it seemed that understanding was beginning to trickle through. And for himself, he had only a few thoughts. Gorgeous, was one of them. Hard just for me, was another. It was different, it seemed. With someone you knew. Not that he had ever done this for someone else, but it was different.

He moved on instinct alone, because experience, he had none. Pressing moist kisses along the heated skin. What he imagined he would like to feel. Zhou Mi’s hands ghosted his hair, before settling back on the edge of the mattress, squeezing there. And he got the response he had been wanting, the cry that no amount of restraint could hold back, as Kyuhyun’s lips parted around him.

He wondered if he could come just by sucking on Zhou Mi. The way he throbbed, he thought it might be possible.

“Kui Xian,” Zhou Mi choked out. “I can’t…”

It was Zhou Mi’s expressions that were fascinating to him. He didn’t really care if Zhou Mi was disappointed that he had taken his mouth away, he just wanted to see everything on that face. It was tense, that of utter, rapt attention to what Kyuhyun’s hands were doing to him. He could almost count down the seconds by the movements of Zhou Mi’s chin, urging him, so close… And Kyuhyun knew the moment he came, eyes flying open, seeing beyond any doubt that it was Kyuhyun who made him feel that way. He was gasping, shuddering, clinging to the bed for dear life in an attempt to follow Kyuhyun’s instructions, when it looked like all he wanted to do was help Kyuhyun touch him, or to touch Kyuhyun. His hand gentled, slowed, not really wanting to break that connection but knowing he had to.

He could hardly walk around with his hand in Zhou Mi’s pants, after all.

And from Zhou Mi, the whimper whispered out of him as Kyuhyun stood. He was in some sort of surreal sexual haze. He had just, with his hands, his mouth, to Zhou Mi… It was irrefutable fact that he had never touched someone like that before, and now that he had, all he could see what the pleasure on Zhou Mi’s face. He wiped his hands on the towel Zhou Mi had brought with him and wondered if it was possible to break through a zipper.

Zhou Mi inhaled sharply, as though a thought occurred to him. “Was it like that at the club?”

“Sort of. Only I never touched him, and he didn’t use his mouth.”

“I want to touch you. Just…”

He nearly whined aloud as Zhou Mi’s hand pressed down along his zipper. Would he have gasped or shouted or something more embarrassing than that, had he had the air to do so? As it was, all he could do was jerk and thrust against the sturdy strokes, and came with his pants still zipped. His hands slapped down onto Zhou Mi’s shoulders to steady himself.

“I guess one touch is all you’re getting,” he gasped out after a long minute.

And he fought between luxurious satisfaction and raging embarrassment.

“You were that turned on, just from…from touching me?” Zhou Mi asked, something like awed.

“I…”

Of course, Zhou Mi would be a cuddler. When Kyuhyun did not lower himself far enough, Zhou Mi stood. And he tugged sort of futilely at his unfastened pants before wrapping his arms around Kyuhyun’s torso and pressing himself close. And with his face against Kyuhyun’s neck, he could feel the very real warmth in him. The life in him.

For some reason it made him laugh, reaching for Zhou Mi’s hips and finding them warm and mostly bare as his pants began to obey gravity. The skin was smooth, even as his hands slid farther back, Zhou Mi whole body spasming as Kyuhyun squeezed his ass generously with the boldness he had newly discovered.

“You’re soft all over, aren’t you?” he asked, trying to keep humor out of his voice.

“Not… Not really,” Zhou Mi said, but still softly breathed through the touches.

They were comfortable with each other day to day, but the longer they stood like that, the more his mood began to feel like it was cooling with his pants.

“I need to shower,” Kyuhyun said, backing off.

Zhou Mi let him go, arms sliding down as though he were letting loose of his manbag, his mirror, and his laptop in one go. Kyuhyun paused only long enough to grab underwear and pajama pants before hustling through the door. He didn’t want either of them to get thoughts about what happened next.

It took little but his peripheral vision to see that Zhou Mi had crawled into bed, his own bed, by the time he returned.

He wondered what Zhou Mi would do, if he turned from his side of the room, walking over and sliding beneath the covers, pinning Zhou Mi to the bed with his body. He’d gotten off in that bed before with nothing more than his hand, and to have Zhou Mi there with him…

Though as tired as he was, he could equally see himself crawling beneath the covers, and pressing up against that warm body, and sleeping. Feeling Zhou Mi’s exhales puffing against his face, or the back of his neck. It sounded…comforting. He wasn’t being all goopy and romantic about it either. He didn’t have some mental plan that made it look like he wanted to sleep next to Zhou Mi forever and ever. And besides, when they were back in Korea, they couldn’t anyway. How would that go? “Hey guys, I’m moving out of the dorm and in with Zhou Mi! To practice my Chinese. Yeah.” To practice blowing his Chinese, maybe.

He snickered, turning out the light above his dresser and blinking in the sudden darkness. Only the glow of their digital clock lit the room. After a few moments, he could make out the lump of Zhou Mi in the other bed, hear his soft sleeping breaths. He was lucky, he supposed, if that didn’t hurt them. If they could wake up in the morning, and not be phased…He would wake up in the morning and wonder what exactly had gotten into him. But he knew. He knew very well.

It had been that one moan from Zhou Mi. And it had demanded everything.

***

Normal, was what he was shooting for. He kicked Zhou Mi’s bed to finish waking him after their alarm screamed and knocking punctuated it, and heard the muffled, unhappy moan. He kept right on going, slipping into the bathroom ahead of the protesting Henry, who got a very nice smile as the door was shut in his face.

He didn’t look any different. That was dumb. It wasn’t like they’d done anything.major. Only mostly major. Okay, it had been mostly him. Zhou Mi already had looked at him like he was some sort of slut liable to rip off his clothes and start making out with a stagehand right on set. Maybe if they were in some alternate universe where Zhou Mi was a stagehand. That thought had him nearly sneaking a glance around, as though someone was listening in to his thoughts. If anyone had reason to be embarrassed, it was him. He’d been the one on his knees, after all. Not that Zhou Mi had been innocent, but he’d also offered.

But they made it through breakfast with a minimum of fuss. They’d even looked each other in the eye a few times. Not long enough for too many mental images to be relayed, but the reality was there. Zhou Mi’s tiny little smile. They could get along for now.

It was interesting to see the way their actions affected those around them, when they were in interviews, on shows. On the other side of the Siwon and Hangeng divide, Ryeowook and Henry and Donghae tended to react off of each other. And sometimes Siwon would turn his way. But most often, he had Zhou Mi.

When he had a girl in his arms on stage, and there was absurdity almost dripping off of the situation, he had only a moment to glance up to see his reaction.

The stern jaw, pursed mouth and hard eyes.

That wasn’t really the reaction he’d been expecting. Of course, he wasn’t sure it was the face that Zhou Mi wanted to show him, either. He had just looked up at the right time, and Zhou Mi’s face had slipped. It hadn’t slipped again, not that time. And he wondered what there was about that cause Zhou Mi, who had sunshine written in his DNA, to fuss. And it wasn’t as though it was just Kyuhyun that made him like that, Zhou Mi had been upset more than a few times, but it seemed like Kyuhyun had an innate ability to draw out the worst in him.

And sometimes the best.

That one, unguarded look stuck with him as they wrapped up, grateful to get out from under the hot lights, to eat and shower and relax. He felt older than his grandfather sometimes, and nearly nodded off ten minutes into his game before he realized he ought to call it a night. Still, he glanced across the room at Zhou Mi. His back was turned to Kyuhyun, as he did sometimes when the light was on. There was an eye mask, he knew, in the bedside table just in case, but Zhou Mi didn’t like wearing it very much. One foot was hanging off the mattress beneath the covers, and that thought made him smile as he turned off the light.

***

He woke with a gasp, moaning as his hips writhed against the mattress. What had he been dreaming about? Trickles of it faded into him, ringing Zhou Mi’s wrists with his hands and holding him down, and…

The moan was impossible to swallow back.

“Kui Xian?”

A warm hand touched his, and he nearly choked on his own spit when he opened his eyes to see Zhou Mi’s face so close.

“What?!”

“You were talking in your sleep. I just wanted to make sure you were…all right.”

It was probably the noises he had been making that had woken him. He cursed mentally. Was he all right? I was fucking you in my sleep, too bad I didn’t wake up to that, too… No please, just go back to bed.

“I’m fine,” he said, trying to will away his erection.

Zhou Mi cleared his throat, kneeling beside the bed. “You were trying to say something. Were you dreaming about the girl?”

The girl? He stared blankly at Zhou Mi. Oh. The girl that had made that jaw set in displeasure. He laughed, fishing for Zhou Mi’s hand and sliding it beneath the covers. His only excuse was that Zhou Mi was so close, and he wanted too damn much to think about anything else. Zhou Mi exhaled hard as he forced their joined hands against the front of his pajamas, and that that friction, knowing it was Zhou Mi’s hand... He rolled onto his side, their faces close again.

“What do you think I was dreaming about?” he breathed.

Zhou Mi’s cheek slid against his, and for a second he thought they were dancing around a kiss. His consciousness flew into too many directions to track, as Zhou Mi focused on his neck, using that mouth, his lips, tongue, teeth, on the sensitive skin, sending sensation exploding down his body, arousing him has he had done to Zhou Mi before, and the hand… The hand that slipped below the waistband of his pajamas, Zhou Mi’s fingers against his skin...

He lasted some superhuman amount of time, maybe 10 strokes of Zhou Mi’s hand, maybe 30 seconds altogether between the sensations of that hand and that mouth, before it seemed like his body was beyond his control. Trying to keep from flopping like a fish on land as he cried out into Zhou Mi’s t-shirt covered shoulder. He gripped some of that shirt in his hand, seeking some kind of anchor.

“Mi,” he gusted out. “Fuck…”

Zhou Mi’s hand rested comfortingly on his stomach by the he had the sense to realize anything about it.

He let out a shuddering breath, warmth reflected back at him. “I swear, I can last longer than that.”

Zhou Mi gave one of his sweet, light laughs, which muffled against his skin had the odd quality of sounding even better. If the tingle it sent down his spine was any indication. He had half a mind to order him to do it again. But he really couldn’t.

The first time they could’ve explained away as an accident, but the second time they definitely could not.

Zhou Mi’s breath roughened, hitching, and he knew without a doubt that the hidden hand had just made him come. He felt a bit cheated that he hadn’t had a part in it, and yet, to know it had happened while Zhou Mi’s face was against Kyuhyun, and while he was touching Kyuhyun…

He was a second away from dragging Zhou Mi into the bed with him, when the man stood, hobbling toward his own side of the room.

He waited for something, some kind of “Sleep well, Kui Xian,” or… Something. But while he waited, he fell asleep.

***

He came to some level of feeling that all was right with the world. Maybe it was the temporary sexual satisfaction, or he really didn’t know what. But from that base, he felt he could maybe find some kind of sanity.

At least until he saw the glasses. The glasses that made Zhou Mi look like some sort of teacher, or maybe a sexy executive. The kind that he wanted to bend over the nearest desk, and…

“Are those your new look?” he asked, probably a bit sharply as he took in the critical angles.

Zhou Mi blinked at him, touching one of the plastic arms with his fingers.

“For a while, I guess. They said girls think men with glasses are hot.”

He had a hard time accepting that girls were coming up with quite the same images that he was. He didn’t suppose he should say anything because he didn’t think there was much room in those skinny little pants for anything untoward.

But of course, he thought of how later might go… Closing his eyes and all but licking his lips in the process.

“Kui Xian…are you tired?”

He huffed out a laugh, sending a a rather knowing smile at Zhou Mi. “I slept pretty good. Didn’t you?”

Zhou Mi’s face probably would’ve turned a few shades darker if he hadn’t been wearing stage makeup.

It wasn’t as though he was an idiot. He was perfectly capable of studying and remembering lines. Most of the time. When his mind went blank and nerves got the better of him, and his heart danced that annoying little dance… He turned to Zhou Mi. And of course, having Zhou Mi’s face close made the time, spent listening to a language he could barely converse to a five year old in, go that much quicker.

Though he had tried to keep the blatant staring at Zhou Mi while he spoke down to a bare minimum.

For his own sanity, he had tried.

***