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It’s been ten minutes. Zhang Hao is getting concerned.
Underneath him, Hanbin is weakly pulling in air, eyes glassy, sweaty hair strewn over his forehead. His skin is flushed, all the way down to his collarbone, the tattoo there newly colored in scarlets and teeth indents that look more like scars. After the first few minutes of his last orgasm’s aftershocks twitching through him, he hasn’t moved a muscle since. Even calls of his name weren’t enough to bring him back. Zhang Hao’s seriously starting to wonder if it’s possible to pass out with your eyes open.
It’s only when Zhang Hao pulls out, finally, that a response is drawn forth — a pathetic whimper, as Hanbin’s eyes well up again. His face is still streaked with tear tracks, now dried. Zhang Hao hurriedly cups his cheeks before they can be renewed.
“Don’t cry, don’t cry.” Zhang Hao leaves a placating kiss to his heated forehead. He loves being able to make Hanbin cry from pleasure, loves overwhelming him until his eyes are sparkling and his chest heaving from sobs, but that’s all over. Right now, all he can think about is soothing those tears to a stop. “I’m still here.”
Hanbin sniffles. His arms quiver as he reaches for Zhang Hao, and Zhang Hao goes willingly, lowering again to kiss him this time on the lips. Hanbin is malleable, putty in his hands, and it’s so easy to kiss him deeper, to lick into his mouth and draw out all the needy little noises trapped in his throat. When they separate, Hanbin looks even more dazed than before, but the tears are at least gone. The string of saliva snaps between their lips.
“We should clean up,” Zhang Hao says quietly, rubbing Hanbin’s arms up and down. He runs a thumb over the tattoo on his bicep, also newly marked up. Hanbin shudders anew when he presses down on it. “Are you with me? Hanbinnie?”
“Hngh…” Hanbin lets out a small, warbling sound. “Gege…?”
Zhang Hao rewards him with another kiss for that. “Baobei,” he croons, taking note of how Hanbin’s jaw slackens a little more at the pet name. “How are you feeling? What’s on your mind?”
“D…dunno…” His words are clumsy, edges blurring, a stark contrast from how well-organized they normally are. He still sounds so breathless. “Mm…can’t remember.”
“Remember what?”
Zhang Hao smooths a hand through his sweaty hair, and even that is enough for Hanbin to gasp, words stuttering. “M-my thoughts…”
A third kiss, to the tip of his nose. “Good.”
Hanbin had slept restlessly through the night. Even though it’s their day off today, he’d woken up with his mind immediately running a million miles an hour. Zhang Hao knows him well. Knows when he’s running down a mental checklist that’s slowly overwhelming him, when he’s getting lost in his own head, when he’s trying not to buckle under all the pressure he puts on himself. Zhang Hao had taken one look at him, right after waking up, and decided there was only one solution.
“I,” he’d declared then and there, swinging his leg over Hanbin’s hips to straddle him, “am going to fuck you until you can’t think anymore.”
Hanbin, at the time, had laughed incredulously. Then Zhang Hao had silenced him with a filthy kiss, sinking his teeth into Hanbin’s lower lip, and let his lips trail down to latch over Hanbin’s pulse point until he was crying for mercy, heartbeat rabbiting quicker and quicker under Zhang Hao’s unrelenting mouth.
Let it be known, he’s never one to fail what he sets his mind to.
Now, he just pats Hanbin’s cheek. “Can you stand? Do you want to shower with your hyung?”
Hanbin’s eyes light up. Zhang Hao’s not sure if he really registered any of his words besides the last three, but he starts to push himself up on still-weak arms, movements sluggish. Zhang Hao helps him sit up, and loops an arm around his waist after. “Good boy,” he praises.
Hanbin, who had just started settling to his normal color, blushes ruby red all over again. Zhang Hao giggles, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and Hanbin preens, nuzzling closer to him not unlike a cat. Cute. The cutest in the world. Zhang Hao says as much, and it just causes Hanbin to melt further into him with a shaky exhale.
He’s a little confused seeing Hanbin this out of it — although he can’t say he’s against it. Still, he brings the both of them to their feet, keeping Hanbin upright on his unsteady legs, and guides him to the bathroom. The shower will probably help him return to his senses.
---
The shower does not help at all.
Hanbin is just so pliant, body giving way so willingly to however Zhang Hao maneuvers him. His fingers are so uncharacteristically uncoordinated that he can’t even pick up the shampoo, but of course, Zhang Hao wasn’t going to let him wash his own hair anyway. He scratches his nails in Hanbin’s scalp, and lathers soap into bubbly suds on his skin, working meticulously down his limbs. Hanbin holds onto him for support, eyelids drooping from the warmth. He’s quiet, content under Zhang Hao’s hands, although he does seem upset at being unable to help Zhang Hao in return. Only a kiss is able to soothe him.
Once they’re out of the shower, Zhang Hao takes care of drying the both of them off and dressing them up. Hanbin tucks his head into the crook of Zhang Hao’s shoulder when he’s done, and breathes out a sigh that warms his neck. Zhang Hao purses his lips in thought, as he runs his hand through Hanbin’s newly-fluffy hair.
“Hanbin-ah,” he calls quietly, nosing his temple. His other hand comes to snake around Hanbin’s waist, slipping under his oversized shirt to touch bare skin. “Are you okay?”
Hanbin hums, a warm kitten-like sound. He mumbles something Zhang Hao doesn’t quite catch, then wraps himself around Zhang Hao’s body, leaning all his weight like he’s forgotten how to hold his own. Zhang Hao steadies himself just in time.
“Baby,” he tries. “Talk to me. How are you feeling?”
“‘m good,” comes the muffled response, after a second or two. “Head feels all mushy…”
…Oh.
Zhang Hao should’ve realized earlier. He’d thought, at first, that Hanbin’s dazed state had just been the lingering aftermath of so many rounds (he himself tends to take a long time to return to himself, when the tables are turned), combined with the fact that they’d just woken up.
It’s not necessarily… unusual, for Hanbin to enter subspace. But it’s never lasted this long after sex. And…
Zhang Hao nudges him back up, cupping his face again. Hanbin leans into his palm, eyes slipping shut.
He doesn’t think Hanbin’s ever slipped this far under before. Never in a state like this, where he’s unable to stand up, unable to hold anything, unable to even process a single thing unrelated to Zhang Hao.
…Perhaps he’d done his job a little too well.
“You’re too sweet,” he sighs, running a fingertip over the shell of his ear. It’s barely any contact at all, but Hanbin keens, leaning further into it. Zhang Hao can’t help but notice how the movement just further exposes the long expanse of his neck, all the marks that run down, the heavy bruise over where his pulse beats. God. “You really must’ve been too wound up, if you unraveled this much. You don’t even understand what I’m saying right now, do you?”
Hanbin doesn’t respond, just turns his head to leave a clumsy kiss to the inside of his wrist. Zhang Hao’s heart threatens to burst with sheer affection.
“Come,” he murmurs, pecking his closed eyelids just to see him smile. “Let’s go to the living room.”
Zhang Hao half-carries him there. It’s a little difficult, with how closely Hanbin has melded to his side like a koala, but he manages, safely lowering Hanbin to the plush cushions of their sofa. He lays him in a sitting position, keeping his hands on Hanbin’s sides. They’d forgotten to close the shades on the living room windows, so the sunlight streams through freely, dappling over Hanbin’s skin, setting him aglow. Zhang Hao stills, momentarily stunned by how ethereal he looks.
“God.” The syllable leaves him in a whoosh of air. “You’re so beautiful.”
Hanbin blinks up at him, long eyelashes fluttering. His cheeks have colored again at Zhang Hao’s words, a lovely rosy shade. Zhang Hao’s gaze rakes over the rest of him, greedily drinking up every inch he possibly can. His shirt, as big as it is, almost slips off his shoulder, and leaves his neckline completely exposed. Zhang Hao can see every bruise he left. It makes him ache to set his mouth on them all over again.
He circles his thumbs where they rest over Hanbin’s hips. If he rucks Hanbin’s shirt high enough, he can see finger-shaped bruises there, too, where he’d pressed down too hard. And if he raises his hands higher, he can feel around where Hanbin’s nipples have swollen and reddened — also his fault, of course. He doesn’t touch them again, not when they’re even more sensitive than normal, but even his proximity sends a full-body shiver wracking down Hanbin’s spine.
His hands massage into Hanbin’s lower back absentmindedly as his eyes lower, to the marks on Hanbin’s inner thighs that his boxers don’t quite cover. Then back up, to his shoulder, where Zhang Hao had scratched too hard. He catalogs every mark he can see, and every mark he can’t. Every sign of where Zhang Hao had laid claim to him.
Beautiful under the sunlight. And especially beautiful like this — completely, utterly Zhang Hao’s.
“Gege,” Hanbin whines, squirming a little. He’s always been shy when faced with all of Zhang Hao’s attention like this. “You’re too far…”
Zhang Hao smiles apologetically. They’re only a foot apart at most, with where Zhang Hao is kneeling in front of him, but he knows Hanbin won’t be satisfied in this state unless there’s no distance between them at all. “Sorry,” he says, bringing his hands to intertwine with Hanbin’s. “Are you hungry, baby? Or sore anywhere? I can heat up some food, or I can go get the massage oil…”
Hanbin pouts. There’s an adorable furrow in his brow, from him undoubtedly trying to understand Zhang Hao’s words. “Just…want gege.”
Oh. He smiles, so terribly in love. “You have me,” he says. “Always.”
He moves, sitting down on the sofa, and tugs Hanbin to him. Hanbin is eager to crowd into his space, and there’s soft rustling until Hanbin is curled up on his lap, letting out content little sighs as he tucks himself right over where Zhang Hao’s heart beats. Zhang Hao wraps his arms around him, and together they settle, deep into the morning stillness, lulled to calmness by their own breaths rising and falling in tandem.
“You’re so good for me.” He presses his lips to the crown of Hanbin’s head. “So lovely. I love you so much.”
He finds it half-funny and half-endearing that Hanbin can’t seem to understand anything except words of praise. And when he does hear them, he reacts so shyly every time. Even now, he’s trying to hide his face in Zhang Hao’s shoulder, as if he could bury himself within Zhang Hao if he tried hard enough.
“Just relax for me, baby,” he whispers. “Stay like this, okay?”
Later, Zhang Hao will get up to make tea and heat up something simple for them to eat (with Hanbin clinging to his back the whole time, of course), and then they’ll curl up together in bed again to laze around a little longer. He’ll kiss over the marks he left, not hard enough to bruise again, but only to soothe, and Hanbin will doze off, still completely at peace under his hyung’s care. An entire day, all to themselves, with nothing to worry about.
For now, though, they both stay, right where they are. Right where they will always want to be.