"Sorry we're late," Kunhang says as Kun opens the door to let him and Yukhei in. "We got confused. It's hard to keep track of whether Ten ge's apartment or Kun ge's apartment is 'home' for the week."
"That joke is tired, Kunhang," Kun deadpans as he gives him a hug before being crushed in Yukhei's arms.
"Yeah, I moved to Kun's apartment two months ago. We had a house-warming party and you were present," Ten calls out from where he is setting the table with Sicheng. "Just say you were having sex and forgot the time."
"Sorry, Ten ge! We were having sex and forgot the time," Yukhei chirps happily. Kunhang elbows him in the ribs. "Shut up, don't just go along with whatever Ten ge says."
Kun laughs as he goes to help his boyfriend and plants a kiss on his cheek before pecking him on the lips. Sicheng rolls his eyes and takes a seat beside Dejun as Yangyang pretends to retch.
"Are you two just going to stand in the doorway or what?" Dejun calls out.
"Yeah, come on in, stop making out. I'm hungry!" Yangyang whines. "Ugh, couples," he mutters to himself.
As Sicheng, Dejun, and Yangyang seat themselves, a slightly ruffled-looking Kunhang and Yukhei walk in and take their places at the table.
"Finally!" Yangyang exhales.
"We weren't making out," Kunhang huffs.
"Yes, we can see that," Sicheng observes, eyeing the blooming hickey on Yukhei's neck.
"Children, please," Kun grouses, pulling out a chair for Ten before he seats himself.
Lunch is a mixture of Chinese and Thai. Kun and Ten watch with fond exasperation as the table erupts into chaos and chatter. First Dejun and Yukhei get into a chopstick fight over the last dumpling; Yukhei's arm accidentally brushes against his glass of water which spills partly onto the table and partly onto his and Kunhang's laps.
Later, Yangyang argues with Kunhang over helping himself to too much stew and barely leaving anything for the others. Meanwhile, Sicheng quietly serves himself the last of the stew, much to Yangyang's consternation.
Yukhei notices the small serving of Khao Pad in Kun's plate and tries to serve him more. Ten fondly watches Kun vehemently refuse, before Kun throws a pleading glance at Ten and then glares daggers at him. Ten laughs and cuts in with, "Xuxi, he's got the photoshoot tomorrow, let him be."
Yukhei's eyes light up in understanding. "Ah right! That big underwear brand shoot! That’s right, Kun ge. You can’t bloat up.”
Kunhang elbows Yukhei in his ribs again, making him cough. Kun smiles despite the blush fading on his cheeks and rubs Yukhei’s back to soothe him. Ten shoots Kun a concerned look but Kun shakes his head. Yangyang cracks a joke that makes Kun laugh so Ten lets himself relax and bask in the love he feels for his friends and boyfriend.
The rest of the lunch is relatively uneventful. After, everyone retires to the living room for a competitive game of Monopoly with ice cream as a salve for the collateral damage that ends with Ten cackling over his victory despite Kun calling him a cheater repeatedly.
After the protests have died down and the ice cream bowls are empty, Ten finds himself sitting sideways in Kun’s lap on their favourite cushy armchair. From his throne, he notes Kunhang and Yukhei draped over each other with a disgruntled Dejun partly underneath them on the sofa. Sicheng is sitting with his feet up in the other armchair, with Yangyang lying spread-eagled on the floor. With everyone dazed and sated and not paying attention to Ten, he steals a few short but sweet kisses from Kun. Kun looks so cute with his lips slightly puckered up even after the kiss, Ten is in love.
“So, Kun ge,” Kunhang starts, breaking Kun and Ten out of their reverie. “Are you nervous about tomorrow?”
“A little,” Kun says honestly. “I’ve never shown so much skin before.”
“Oh, it’s easy, Kun ge, no need to be nervous,” Yukhei states. “It’s all in the eyes, you just need to let your eyes do the talking, your body will do its job on its own,” he adds and demonstrates his sultry eyes. Even flopped onto the couch and wrapped up in Kunhang he makes for an alluring image.
Kun nods thoughtfully. Yukhei knows what he is talking about—he made a name for himself as the poster boy for sexy campaigns before he made it big as a runway model. Kun grimaces. Maybe the reason he was selected as the face (body) for the brand was that Yukhei was unavailable. As if sensing the self-deprecatory direction his thoughts have taken, Ten pets his hair and drops a swift kiss on his cheek at that. Kun smiles gratefully at him.
“It’s going to be so weird seeing Kun ge naked on the billboards everywhere though,” Yangyang states. “Never thought I’d have to see that.”
“I’m not going to be naked!” Kun protests at the same time as Yukhei asks, puzzled, “You never said that to me?”
“No, it’s different with you, I don’t know how to explain,” Yangyang fumbles.
“As Kun’s manager, I’m going to have to tell you to shut up, Yangyang,” Sicheng says. “Can’t have my model in a bad headspace before such an important shoot.”
“I didn’t mean it like that, Sicheng ge! Kun ge, you know I didn’t mean it like that, right? I just mean you’re my ge! It’s just—weird…” Yangyang trails off.
“Shut up, Yangyang, Kun ge is going to be the hottest thing in town,” Dejun crows. “Everyone will be thirsting over him. I’ll make sure to send you all the thirst tweets so you don’t miss out,” he adds deviously.
“No, please, I will combust out of sheer embarrassment!” Yangyang cries.
“Anyway,” Kunhang saves the day. “Who’s the photographer?”
“Johnny Suh,” Kun says.
“Oh! Johnny hyung! He’s amazing, Kun ge. He will make you feel really comfortable,” Yukhei encourages. “You’ll forget any nervousness around him. He’s really chill, and he’s a pro at this.”
“He’s right, Kunnie,” Ten says softly. “Johnny is good, both as a photographer and a person.”
“Yeah,” Kun sighs. “I hope it goes well.”
A cacophony of “It will!”, “Don’t worry, Kun ge!”, “You’ll be amazing!” rises immediately, making Kun smile, relief blooming in his chest.
Ten gently cups his face, holds his gaze for a long moment, then kisses him. Kun closes his eyes into the kiss, letting the world fade away, just before they are rudely interrupted—Yangyang throws a cushion at them that hits the back of Ten's head. Ten retaliates because of course he does. A short but spirited cushion fight takes place which Kun tries to stop and Sicheng tries to referee. There are no winners and after a brief period of rest and cleaning up the mess they've made, Sicheng shoves everyone out.
“I’ll pick you up at 7 a.m.,” he tells Kun. “Relax tonight, and don’t worry about tomorrow.” Kun nods and doesn’t notice Sicheng exchanging a look with Ten and Ten shaking his head and smiling a reassuring smile.
Later, after a light dinner—during which Ten chats about this and that and notices but does not comment on Kun’s unusual reticence—they retire to the couch for their nightly Sunday ritual. Cuddling in Kun’s arms, Ten listens to Kun read out his favourite passage from their book-of-the-week. He’s glad he chose a light comedy, so when he exaggeratedly reads out the funniest passage during his turn, it makes Kun laugh, and all feels right with the world.
In bed, Ten lazily sketches on his iPad for a while before putting it away. There’s something interesting there, but it’s not yet fully realized and Ten does not believe in forcing creativity. Moreover, he knows he is distracted. Kun has been lost in thought since their friends left despite his best attempts to hide it, and Ten does not like the hint of sadness lingering around his pretty mouth. The only thing stopping Ten from cornering Kun and asking about it is their rule of giving the other space when they seem upset until they feel ready to talk about it.
The door to the bathroom opens and Kun steps out in a cloud of steam, towel slung around his shoulders, wearing only his favourite silk pajamas. "All yours," he tells Ten, gesturing behind him at the open door, the steam having cleared up now. Ten hops off the bed, catches Kun by the ends of his towel and kisses him. What was intended to be a short peck turns into a long, deep kiss. After they part, Ten finally steps inside the bathroom in a daze.
He catches sight of himself in the fogged up mirror and wipes it to see his reddened lips and smiles to himself. Debating whether to have a long soak in the tub or to have a quick shower, Ten decides on the shower. He wants to be out quickly so he can spend some more time with Kun before his shoot-induced early bedtime. He dumps his t-shirt and sweatpants into the laundry basket, then realizes that he has forgotten his towel.
Padding out of the bathroom, Ten stops in the doorway. Kun is frowning at his reflection in the full-length mirror, critically examining himself from every angle. Kun is all soft lines and sharp curves, his lightly-tanned skin smooth to the touch. Ten can’t take his eyes off Kun's body, yet here Kun is, looking for non-existent blemishes and clutching at flab that no longer exists. Ten sighs. It is loud enough to startle Kun, who colours immediately.
“I—what are you doing?” he flounders.
“Forgot my towel,” Ten says, crossing his arms against his chest and leaning against the wall. “But what are you doing? Thought you’d be in bed by now.”
“Nothing,” Kun says, looking away. He grabs the matching silk shirt kept on their bed and slips it on.
“Kunnie,” Ten exhales, walking up to Kun. “What’s wrong?” Gently pulling his hands away from the shirt, Ten slowly buttons up Kun’s shirt for him, leaving the top two buttons loose.
“I didn’t want to pry, but you’ve been awfully quiet,” he adds, lightly brushing the tips of his fingers against Kun’s collarbones and up against his neck. Kun shivers at that and closes his eyes. Instead of teasing him further, he carefully massages the nape of Kun’s neck.
“It’s nothing,” Kun says, opening his eyes and meeting Ten’s concerned gaze. “Just nerves, I guess,” he shrugs, a wry smile on his face.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Ten prods.
Kun simply slumps forward, wrapping his arms around Ten and burying his face in his neck. Ten’s fingers never stop moving. He massages the back of Kun’s scalp then finger-combs his hair. Freshly dyed blue, it’s grown longer, and Ten loves running his fingers through it. He can’t help but marvel at the softness of the strands despite knowing about the numerous dye-jobs they have been through. They hold each other for a long moment.
Ten feels Kun's warm exhale against his neck before Kun straightens up. "Is it weird that I'm doing this campaign?"
"What do you mean?" Ten asks, frowning.
Kun breaks out of Ten's arms and goes to sit on the bed. Ten follows him. "I think it's just nerves. Overthinking things, I guess," Kun says.
"Does it have anything to do with lunch?" Ten asks.
"Not really. Maybe? I don't know. It's an important campaign for my career, but why should it be different from any other photoshoot that I've done so far?" Kun says in a rush as if the words are queuing up to tumble out together.
"Go on," Ten encourages him.
"I mean, has nothing I've done so far been of any significance? I just needed to show some skin and I'm it? That's the best thing that could ever happen to me?" Kun takes a moment to gather his words. "It—it feels like betrayal, except I don't know if I betrayed someone or something, or they betrayed me."
Ten rubs Kun's shoulder soothingly. "Is that all of it?"
Kun shifts to face Ten. "What if I fuck it up? What if Johnny thinks I'm the worst underwear model—no, the worst model he's ever had to photograph? Or, what if they look at me and think, oh no, we should have gotten someone else, someone better? Someone more handsome, with a better body? What if—" Kun cuts himself off.
"Breathe, Kunnie," Ten says softly. Kun inhales and exhales, once, twice, thrice. Some of the tension leaves his body.
“Can I say something?” Ten asks. Kun nods.
“First, you aren’t going to fuck it up tomorrow,” Ten states. “Second, you are good at what you do, and people respect you for it. That’s why you got this campaign, Kun. They wanted you specifically. They saw your work and said, we want this man to be the face of our brand. Third, you’ve worked hard on your body, Kunnie, and you did it for yourself, did you not?”
Kun nods slowly.
“Well, all the more reason to show it off, don’t you think so?” Ten says part-mischievously, part-seriously.
“You said ‘something’, singular,” Kun says petulantly, cheeks pink.
Ten laughs. “Alright, I meant ‘some things’, plural.” He cups Kun’s cheeks; the blush is fading, but they are warm to the touch.
“When I look at you Kun, I think, what a beautiful man. It shouldn’t be possible for anyone to be this beautiful, yet here you are,” he says, softer, and yet somehow louder than before.
“You know what I thought when I first saw you at the library?”
“What a mess?” Kun quips. Ten pinches his cheek. Hard. “No,” he smiles, watching Kun squirm, and rub his cheek to alleviate the sting. “I thought, wow, I want to tell him how beautiful he looks.”
“Then why did you antagonize me when I hadn’t slept in 48 hours and just wanted to finish my paper?” Kun asks, eyes narrowed. “You sat there complaining that you wished the library wasn’t full so you wouldn’t have to sit at my table.”
“I said I wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked, not smelled,” Ten fires back. Kun mumbles something about not my fault my shower wasn’t working and I had a deadline.
“I forgot how to function around you,” Ten confesses. “You looked so hot with your glasses slipping down your nose and the rolled-up sleeves, I didn’t know what to do with myself.”
“I looked hot in my ratty sweater and loose glasses?” Kun asks, incredulous. Ten nods.
“I wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t want to creep you out either.”
“So you insulted me?”
Ten shrugs helplessly. Kun can’t help but marvel. Five years of dating, and this is the first time he is hearing this tidbit about their first meeting. Ten had always said his love for Kun came gradually, just the way Kun came to appreciate Ten slowly, but he never knew Ten had been attracted to him from the beginning.
Ten notices the faraway look in Kun’s eyes.
“What are you thinking?” Ten asks.
“I’m thinking I don’t really believe you, but I want to.”
Ten moves his hands to Kun’s shoulders and pushes them. Surprised, Kun falls backward onto the bed. Ten straddles him and leans forward. Kun closes his eyes, expecting a kiss, but Ten rests his forehead against Kun’s.
“I want you to believe me, too,” he breathes. Kun opens his eyes as Ten presses a kiss to his forehead, and then shifts so he can gaze at Kun, take in his boyfriend’s expectant expression with only a couple inches of space between their lips.
“I love you, Kun. I want you to trust me the way I trust you,” Ten says. “Believe me, if I could spend every second of the day telling you how beautiful you are and how happy you make me, I would.”
Kun’s eyes widen, then close halfway. “Why don’t you?” he whispers. Ten’s eyes flick from Kun’s sultry gaze to his parted lips. Ten swallows the saliva pooling in his mouth, watching Kun slowly drag his tongue across his lower lip, leaving it wet and shiny. Such a tease, his Kunnie. He knows exactly what he is doing to Ten and Ten can’t wait to get his hands on him.
“I will if you’ll let me,” Ten exhales, imperceptibly lowering his body to brush his front against Kun’s. He can feel them both getting hard.
Kun gasps. Breathily, he commands, “Do it, then. Worship me.”
Ten wastes no time in capturing Kun's lower lip, giving it a hard suck and then running his tongue along it before coaxing his tongue inside Kun's mouth. Meeting Kun's tongue with his own feels electric even now after all these years.
Kun buries his fingers in Ten's hair, tugging on the strands to make Ten change the angle of the kiss. Ten complies but catches Kun's free hand in his, laces their fingers together. As the kiss turns filthier, Ten's other hand trails down Kun's torso, smoothly unbuttoning the nightshirt and parting the fabric, leaving bare skin in its wake.
Kun drags his hand through Ten's hair, down the nape of his neck to the middle of his back, the bare skin warm underneath his palm. He uses the tip of his index finger to trace the characters for 'love you' on Ten's back and arches his own back so he and Ten are chest to chest, skin on skin.
Ten smiles into the kiss and pulls his mouth away from Kun's, a string of saliva still connecting them. They watch each other catch their breaths with dilated pupils, soft smiles on their lips.
"You're so beautiful," Ten exhales, then kisses him again, close-mouthed and sweet. He moves his lips to Kun's chin, then drags his lips down his throat, stopping above his Adam's apple. Ten opens his mouth to press his tongue against it as Kun throws his head back.
"Ten, no marks," Kun chokes out.
"I know, baby," Ten says against his throat, feels Kun's Adam's apple bob as he swallows. He pulls away and Kun follows him, lifting his body enough so Ten can push the shirt off his shoulders, letting it slide down his arms. Kun catches Ten’s lips with his in a brief but rough kiss as he bunches the silk garment and tosses it onto the floor.
They separate for a moment. Ten lies on his side, head propped up on his palm, and fondly watches Kun push his pajamas down to his knees and struggle to kick them off of his legs. Kun is so adorable; Ten is hopelessly endeared. Even if Kun refuses to believe it, Ten knows that anyone would be lucky to have him as their lover and partner. But Ten can't help but feel smug that everyone is unlucky because he is the one that managed to land Qian Kun.
"What are you smiling like an idiot for?" Kun deadpans. "Is my misery that funny to you?"
Ten laughs and flops onto his back. He will bear with Kun's wrath because he is finally down to his briefs and Ten thinks an angry Kun is doubly adorable. Kun hovers over him, eyebrows furrowed, lips jutted out in a petulant pout. Ten loves him so much.
Kun narrows his eyes as Ten continues to smile, blissfully lost in thought. He smirks in satisfaction as Ten’s smile disappears when Kun grabs his clothed dick tenting his boxers. “Should I suck you off but not let you come as punishment?” He grinds his palm against it. “Or maybe this will be enough, hm?”
“No, please,” Ten grabs his hand, but the urgency in his wide eyes fades to a look of decadence. He gazes up at Kun through his eyelashes as he brings Kun’s hand to his mouth and reverently presses his lips to his knuckles one by one. “Let me atone for my sins, my love,” he exhales. Kun’s cheeks heat up.
Ten swiftly reverses their positions and lavishes Kun’s body with the attention it deserves. His fingers lightly trace up along Kun’s sides, making him squirm before soothing him by running his palms down his body. He alternates between licking and kissing Kun’s torso, whispering praises and declarations of love and devotion into his skin.
Sliding Kun’s briefs off, Ten sits back on his haunches to admire the man he loves. Roving his eyes over Kun’s flushed body, he traces the lines of Kun’s abs with a finger, watches the goosebumps rise on his skin, watches him clench his abdomen instinctively, and twist the sheets between his fingers. Ten’s gaze is too much for Kun, especially now when he is bubbling with so many feelings. Turning his face away, he commands the voice-controlled lights to turn off, making Ten smile.
“What a shy boy,” Ten says, as he suddenly cages Kun with his arms. “My shy boy, so beautiful, I wish I could kiss you all the time,” he adds and swallows the protests on Kun’s lips. Covering his body with his own, he revels in the sensation of Kun’s warm skin flush against his. He can feel the heat of Kun’s dick through the fabric of his boxers and tortures them both by brushing against it again and again as he dips his head down to press short kisses against Kun’s mouth.
Whining into the kiss, Kun grabs Ten’s ass, forces him to grind against Kun the way he wants him to, while his fingers hook into the waistband to tug his boxers down and over the curve of plump flesh. Ten breaks the kiss and separates from Kun, breathing hard, sweat beading at his temples.
Ten nearly falls off the bed in his haste to pull his boxers off. It lightens the heavy atmosphere but makes Kun laugh, so Ten doesn’t feel too bad about ruining the mood. “You’re lucky you’re so cute when you laugh,” he says, “Otherwise I’d be very insulted right now.” Kun is taken over by a fresh wave of giggles at that. Ten can’t help but smile fondly before he leans forward and lifts Kun’s leg onto his shoulder.
Kun’s laughter dies an abrupt death, as Ten lightly bites into the sensitive skin high up Kun’s inner thigh in retaliation, making sure it stings without leaving a mark. He shudders as Ten plants a series of wet kisses along his thigh, down to his knee, and licks a broad stripe across his kneepit, and then lavishes the same attention to his other leg. “Ten,” his voice cracks, his dick twitches. “Fuck me.”
“Not yet, baby,” Ten states, gently pressing a kiss against Kun’s calf before letting him ease his leg off of his shoulder. He reaches out to touch Kun’s dick, but Kun shakes his head. Ten smiles softly in understanding. “Turn over for me?” he asks.
Kun huffs and complies, stretching his legs in the process. He clutches the pillow under his head, presses his cheek into it. His dick rubs against the bedsheet, making him hiss. “Tennie, c’mon—ah!”
The sudden heat of Ten’s palms on his ass spreading his cheeks apart and the wetness of Ten’s tongue against his rim punches the breath out of Kun’s body. Ten circles his rim with his tongue then flattens his tongue against it and drags it up the groove between the cheeks.
Ten has amassed a wealth of knowledge about Kun over the years—everything that makes him smile, everything that makes him frown, everything that drives him mad in bed. It comes to him naturally now, and he uses the tip of his tongue to kittenishly lick Kun’s intergluteal cleft. Kun buries his face in the pillow to muffle his scream that dissolves into a moan.
Just as Kun thinks he is about to come right there and then—untouched, simply because of Ten’s tongue—he gets some respite as Ten straightens up to pull the bedside drawer open and grab the lube and condoms. His body is so overheated, Kun wonders if steam will start rising from it soon.
The cold lube drizzled over his hole surprises him but feels good. Ten eases a finger inside, mouth latching on to the flesh of Kun’s left asscheek while he kneads the right with his other hand. Kun does not need much stretching, but Ten knows how much he enjoys the pads of Ten’s fingers rubbing against his prostate. He is glad Kun is too dazed to realize Ten is leaving bite marks and bruises blooming all over his ass.
“Ten, please,” Kun chokes out, wrecked, yet managing to sound grumpy. Ten does not want to make Kun wait any longer; Ten might come just from pleasuring his boyfriend.
He tears open the foil and rolls the condom over his dick. Pumping it a couple times, he slicks it up with lube, then hovers over Kun’s body, sliding his dick between Kun’s cheeks and digging his thumbs into the dimples above them. Kun moans but bites the pillow to cut himself off. “Stop fucking teasing!” he whines.
Ten presses his chest against Kun’s back, runs his hands up Kun’s arms and down again to rest against his waist, and moves his hips, making sure his dick brushes against Kun’s rim. “I want to see you,” he says, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck. “Do you want to turn over?”
“Not yet,” Kun replies, voice small and low.
Ten peppers kisses down Kun’s spine as he moves back. “Hands and knees, then, baby.”
Kun keeps his face buried in the pillow even with his ass up in the air. He loves the sensation of Ten slowly filling him up. He stops breathing as Ten goes deep, brushes against his prostate. Kun remains still so he can feel nothing but Ten, Ten, Ten . He raises his head after a moment, inhales deeply, and Ten knows he can start moving.
Ten’s huffed out, broken words of praise, Kun’s staccato moans, and their panting fill the air. Ten has a hand on Kun’s shoulder, the other pressed against his abdomen as it strains. They move together, drawing out their pleasure. Kun clenches around Ten, making him groan. “I’m close, Ten,” he pants. “Wanna see you now.”
They both moan as Ten pulls out. Kun flips over, catches his breath, eyes hooded but fixed on the love of his life. Ten is struck by his beauty once again; even sweaty and dishevelled, Kun looks radiant as he reaches out, beckoning Ten into his arms. Ten can’t believe he lucked out with this smart, talented, caring, drop-dead sexy man.
Thrusting in again, he lets himself fall into Kun’s arms, knowing he will catch him. Kun holds him close, seeks his mouth to whisper loving words against it, and kisses him as Ten moves inside him, hitting his prostate with every thrust. The kiss is more shared breaths than anything else as Ten’s rhythm falters, becomes erratic.
Ten nearly blacks out with the force of his orgasm. Slowly pulling out, he is quick to get his hands around and mouth on Kun’s dick. The heat of Ten’s mouth and the wetness of his tongue against the leaking, swollen head is enough to tip Kun over the edge. Ten sucks him through his orgasm, swallows everything, nearly making Kun scream from oversensitivity.
Disposing of the used condom, the two lie side by side, spent and sated, arms touching, luxuriating in the heat of their bodies. After he has caught his breath, Ten turns and rests his head on Kun’s chest. “I love you,” he murmurs.
“Hey,” Kun weakly nudges him. “Don’t fall asleep. We need to shower.”
“Mm,” Ten mumbles, eyes closed. “Do we need to shower, or do you want to shower?”
“Ten,” Kun says sternly.
“Okay, okay,” Ten reassures him. “In five minutes.”
Kun smiles, cranes his head to drop a kiss onto Ten’s hair. “I love you, too.”
The theme of the photoshoot, in line with the brand, is comfort. Standing in his robe, Kun watches the lighting being done for the first set up—the bedroom scene. The two art assistants are scurrying around straightening the crooked photo frames on the walls, arranging props on the bedside table, and fluffing pillows as per the Art Director’s instructions. One of them artfully musses up the sheets, and Kun can’t help but think of his own bed.
Two hours ago, he woke up warm and happy in Ten’s arms. After admiring the morning sunlight dappling Ten’s face, Kun carefully extracted himself from Ten’s koala hold and stepped inside the bathroom. By the time he was dressed, Ten had woken up. Kun watched his sleepy, shirtless boyfriend puttering about in the kitchen, brewing Kun’s favourite cinnamon tea, and a coffee for himself. He had noticed the marks he had left on Ten’s neck and chest in the shower after their lovemaking and smiled to himself.
They drank their beverages in silence, simply enjoying each other’s presence. When Sicheng texted him stating he’d be reaching in 5 minutes, they had spent the time making out and Ten had seen him off with a, “I love you, go be amazing,” before reeling him in for one last kiss even as Sicheng honked the car horn incessantly.
A tap on his shoulder alerts Kun of his surroundings. It’s Sicheng. “The MUA is ready for you, Kun,” he states. Kun nods and goes to get his hair and makeup done. He chats with the makeup artist as she works. She compliments his skin and praises his last editorial, making Kun blush.
“The photographer is ready,” Sicheng informs him just as the last tuft of his hair is styled into a gentle curl. The hairstylist gives him the okay and he stands up, the nerves mixing with excitement. He wonders what Johnny Suh is like. He’s only heard great things about him from Ten and Yukhei and he trusts their judgement, so he must be as good as they say.
Back on set, Kun stops short when he sees the photographer. The man is nothing like the Johnny Suh he has seen photographs of. Shorter, where is he taller, slender, where he is built, familiar, where he is a stranger. Kun would recognize his boyfriend from any angle, but especially when he is behind the camera. He exchanges a look with Sicheng, who has the decency to at least pretend to look guilty.
Ten smiles a professional smile at him, but Kun can read the genuine warmth in his eyes. Mindful of the numerous people around who have no idea about their relationship, Kun swallows his surprise, schools his expression into polite neutrality. They formally introduce themselves to each other, and there is something so illicit about it, Kun feels a tingling sensation in his gut as he clasps Ten’s hand.
Moonlighting as a photographer, Ten has photographed Kun for an editorial once, and numerous times in the privacy of their bedroom. As he lies back in bed, Kun thinks of those moments when Ten shows him the photographs he has taken. As racy as they are, Kun can always feel Ten’s loving gaze reflected in them.
Ten barely needs to direct him; knowing what Ten wants comes naturally to Kun now. Lounging in bed, his limbs arranged to tease and titillate, he strikes pose after pose, loses himself in the feeling of doing what he loves, in front of the man he is in love with, while the camera shutter clicks merrily in the background.
Before he knows it, he is getting ready for the second scenario—the post-shower look. This is meant to be sexier than the bedroom scenario. The underwear just barely covers his ass, and Kun is afraid someone is going to see the marks Ten left. Hair styled to look wet, water droplets running down his body, Kun is taken back to last night’s shower with Ten.
With Ten behind the camera, Kun feels doubly exposed in this scenario as he poses with the towel, one end around his shoulder, and the other end drying his hair. He throws a come hither look at the camera—and by extension, at Ten—and feels a burning awareness of the marks covered by the thin fabric, knows Ten knows them all. The tension is palpable, the moment suspended in time, nothing but Kun and Ten, Ten and Kun.
Once the photoshoot is over and Kun is dressed in his jeans and shirt, he basks in the praise he receives from everyone on set for the fabulous job he did. He thanks them for taking care of him and steps outside.
Ten is waiting for him, leaning against his convertible. Sicheng has already made his escape after telling Kun, “Johnny Suh had an urgent matter to take care of, so Ten was called in two days ago. But he didn’t want to psych you out so he asked me not to tell you.”
Ten lets him drive, and there is silence in the car for a long moment before Ten breaks it with a, “Are you mad at me?” Kun shoots him an incredulous look. “No, should I be?”
Ten shrugs. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to hide it from you, but you were already so nervous about it, I didn’t want to add to your stress. I remember how that editorial nearly went wrong.”
“Tennie,” Kun says, smiling at Ten. “I’m not mad, really, I’m not. Sicheng told me about the situation. I understand.”
Ten smiles brightly at that. “You were absolutely brilliant, Kun. I’m so glad I got to witness that with my own eyes.”
“I’m glad it was you,” Kun says shyly. “I’m glad I could share that with you.”
“Mm, yeah,” Ten smirks. “I got some great shots for my private collection.”
“Ten!” Kun exclaims, horrified.
“I couldn’t help it,” Ten defends himself. “There were moments when I felt like you weren’t posing for the camera, you were posing for me; moments where you weren’t Qian Kun the model, but Kunnie, my boyfriend.”
What can Kun say to that? He melts, but still glares at Ten.
“What! The shots are amazing, darling. This campaign is going to be a hit,” Ten states. “Dejun was right, you know.”
“What do you mean?” Kun asks.
“You are going to be the hottest thing in town and people are going to thirst over you left, right, and centre,” Ten states. Kun colours at that. “In fact,” Ten continues, voice lilting mischievously. “I don’t know how I can be expected to not pop a boner when I see you looking all sexy like that on billboards.”
“Good, do that,” Kun huffs, stopping at the red light. “You’ll be arrested for public indecency, that’ll serve you right.”
Ten laughs and kisses Kun’s cheek. “I refuse to hide my appreciation for you.”
“Idiot,” Kun says fondly, bursting into laughter. Ten joins in. They startle the passengers in the cars next to them, but they are too wrapped up in each other, too in love to care. With one hand on the steering wheel, Kun lets Ten hold the other one.
They leave the other cars behind once the light turns green.