kat_lair: (GUARDIAN RPF - ZYL)
[personal profile] kat_lair
***

Title: no finer details than yours
Author:[personal profile] kat_lair
Fandom: Guardian RPF
Character: Bai Yu/Zhu Yilong
Tags: Sensuality, Getting Together, Drabble Series/Sequence (Mix & Match)
Rating: T
Word count: 100 + 100 + 100 + 300 + 300

Summary: Anything is possible when you want it bad enough.

Author notes:
This was my [community profile] seasonsofdrabbles assignment, written for [personal profile] facethestrange whose likes I had fun shoving in here.

no finer details than yours
on AO3


hands

“I look forward to working together.”

The hand grasping Bai Yu’s is broad, capable, the grip strong but not restrictive. The swell of veins at the wrist flows into the forearm, eventually disappearing under smooth muscle. Bai Yu holds on just a moment longer than proper.

“Me too,” he says and memorises the press of Zhu Yilong’s palm against his.

Later, he watches Zhu Yilong’s hands on the Black Cloaked Envoy’s staff, on the handle of a sword, holding a brush, chopsticks, wrapping around Zhao Yunlan’s collar in agitation, curling around Bai Yu’s shoulder during breaks, warm and already familiar.

 

***


eyes

The laugh lines around Zhu Yilong’s eyes last longer than his laugh, the revelry of the wrap-up party gentling into sweet melancholy, Zhu Yilong’s expression gentling into a memory in the making.

“Guess this is it,” Bai Yu says. He thinks he could draw the shape of Zhu Yilong’s eyes in his sleep, after months of staring into them, scene after scene of Zhao Yunlan feeling the weight of Shen Wei’s gaze like a brand on his skin.

“Doesn’t have to be.”

Clumsily, Bai Yu puts his contact details into the offered phone, Zhu Yilong watching him the whole time.

 

***


hair

Zhu Yilong sends him the photo before it officially drops. Bai Yu honest to God blacks out for a few seconds.

“What the hell?” he whispers when he comes to. His empty apartment has no answers.

The photo on his phone is still devastating, Zhu Yilong fresh from a stylist, wearing a dove grey suit, glasses, hair tousled and long enough for a little ponytail at the back.

Bai Yu wants to bite it. Rest of him too, for sure, but… The ponytail. He’s having a full-blown crisis.

See you at the shoot tomorrow, the message under the picture says.

 

***


fingers

This high up the air is clear, the city spreading out in rivulets of light below them. It’s taken some doing but they’ve finally managed to escape the industry party twenty floors down and find some privacy on the balcony of Zhu Yilong’s hotel room.  

Anything is possible when you want it bad enough.

Bai Yu does. And he thinks the dozens on messages and phone calls and lingering touches during the promo tour and after, whenever they’ve found a reason to be in the same place at the same time, like tonight, suggest that maybe Zhu Yilong does too.

“Here.” He pushes a glass into Bai Yu’s hands, takes time to wrap his fingers securely around it before pulling away, slowly.

Bai Yu takes a drink, so he doesn’t whine at the loss.

“How are you, gege?” he asks, for much the same reason.

Zhu Yilong regards him silently for long seconds, as if the question is more difficult than Bai Yu intended.

“Lonely.” It should be sad, but somehow it sounds… hopeful, instead. And then, before Bai Yu has a chance to formulate a reply, Zhu Yilong’s fingers are back, brushing his cheek gently. “And you?” The touch traces the edge of Bai Yu’s facial hair, following the shape of his jawline. “Are you…?” He trails off, but Bai Yu knows what he’s really asking.

“Yes.” A rushed, shaky admission. “Yes. I miss you. I want…” He leans his face into Zhu Yilong’s palm, feels the cool metal of rings against his skin, the shape of Zhu Yilong’s thumb where it presses against his bottom lip like a promise.

Yes,” Zhu Yilong echoes. His beautiful, elegant fingers that have haunted Bai Yu’s daydreams ever since they first wrapped around his, cradle his whole face and pull him close.

 

***


lips

If someone were to ask him whether Zhu Yilong is a good kisser, Bai Yu would have to say he doesn’t know, objectively speaking. He knows Zhu Yilong is good at kissing him, devastatingly, soul-wrenchingly good at kissing Bai Yu until there is nothing but heat and need and the shockingly intimate drag of Zhu Yilong’s tongue against the inside of his bottom lip. He just doesn’t know if that’s because Zhu Yilong is a good kisser or simply because it’s Zhu Yilong whose lips Bai Yu has wanted on his body since maybe the second week of knowing the man.

It doesn’t matter anyway because no one is asking. Well. No one is asking that.

“Do you?” Zhu Yilong breathes into his mouth but doesn’t finish the question, diving in to kiss Bai Yu again, slow and deep and just a little desperate, like he’s afraid Bai Yu will disappear.

Bai Yu has no such intentions. His hands are buried in Zhu Yilong hair, tugging it free from the stupid, stupidly attractive, little ponytail, and if he accidentally on purpose drops the hair-tie over the balcony railing well then he has a hell of an excuse for being distracted and lust-clumsy.

Some things are more important than kissing Zhu Yilong, though. Not many, but some. Like hearing the end of his question.

“What?” Bai Yu pulls back just enough to speak. “Anything, just…” He smooths his thumbs over Zhu Yilong’s cheekbones, the fragile skin under his eyes, feeling the lashes flutter against his skin.

“Do you want to stay?” Zhu Yilong’s voice cracks, just a bit, and Bai Yu know he’s not asking only about tonight.

“Yes,” he says.

Will you?” It’s a more complicated question, given who they are, what they do.

Bai Yu answers it anyway. “Yes.”


***

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