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It's late when Taeyong catches a plane to Bangkok. He's supposed to be resting for his fansign schedules and public appearances at the airport, but the love of his life has just pulled off three whole days of a solo concert. And the fact that he missed out. Even though Ten insists it's fine, that there will be more concerts and events and schedules for them to spend together.
Taeyong's convinced himself none of them will ever be quite as special as his very first concert out of the clutches of their ruthless company. So he packs his bags, bids adieu to his manager, and hops a plane to Thailand.
Ten's sister intercepts him at the airport, the moon the only witness to their escapade. She's always been kind to him, the few times they've had the chance to meet. They talk together in tiny bits of English, Thai, and Korean. The famed Princess Tori nestles in his lap, enjoying chin scratches, as Tern takes him to a discreet hotel. They exchange an awkward hug over the center console and Taeyong gets the Princess back in her car seat before he grabs his bag out of the trunk.
They leave and Taeyong lets himself fall back into the familiarity of one of his favorite countries. A cool breeze chasing away humidity even at this hour. He enters the quaint modern little lobby, lending itself to the tropical climate with green ferns and vines complimenting the marble and tile. The receptionist smiles as he does and nods in return as he makes his way past to the elevators.
Excitement makes it hard to stay still, to keep from rocking up onto his toes and back on his heels the closer he gets to the hotel room. But then he's on the 8th floor, and the door opens to him without the need for a key, and finally, finally, it feels like he's home.
The lights are switched on, steam pours out from the open bathroom door a few feet ahead on the left, and the familiar whir of a hairdryer fills the entire space. Taeyong shakes his head fondly, letting his bag drop in the entryway closet. He takes off his face mask, his cap, and his shoes. He takes his time, listening and sniffling the air for that familiar sweet combination of Ten's shower products—tea leaves and coconut and some other creamy scent he can't place but always brings to mind short raven hair, tan skin, pretty dirt-colored eyes.
Anticipation grabs hold of him and doesn't let go, unfolding fields upon fields of flowers in his chest. As if he inhales hard enough, tiny green sprouts will ease out from his pores, and every feeling, every chord of love that thrums through his being for his Tenie will bloom and cover him head to toe in roses, baby's breath, sunflowers, lilies, daisies. He'll become a garden for Ten's eyes only.
Then the hairdryer clicks off and Taeyong finally makes his presence known, humming a happy tune as he strides over to the open door. A clatter sounds and then they bump into each other right at the door jamb. The whole world falls away when their eyes meet. Ten's brown dyed hair falls neat and pretty over his forehead, his golden skin peeks out beneath the white shower robe and glistens with his lotions. His eyebrows are endearingly thin without his regular makeup and somehow, Taeyong feels as he did when he first got back from the military, like a man starved of love and affection and everything good in the world, like he could grab Ten and never let him go for as long as they live.
"You dyed your hair!" Ten exclaims first, reaching up to ruffle his new orange blond. And the magnets in their bones get straight to work, Ten's arms come to rest on his shoulders and Taeyong wraps his arms around his middle, pulling him flush to his body.
Ten grins giddily into the quick kiss they share and it sends electricity all through Taeyong's body, warmth no doubt leaving his face embarrassingly pink. "You shouldn't leave the door unlocked like that," he murmurs past the pecks Ten continues to leave at the corners of his lips and the tip of his nose.
"No one knows I'm here." He smiles reassuringly, pats his cheek, and steps away to return to the bathroom mirror, sitting on a wooden stool there. "After the concert, I had dinner with the dancers and the staff and the guests, and I came straight here," he looks over his little bottles and vials, twirling a hand over them in contemplation until he finds a familiar lil glass tube with golden liquid.
Taeyong makes his way over. He washes his hands, careful not to knock anything over or elbow Ten in the face. Then, without question or discussion, Ten pours a little of the oil out into his waiting hand. Taeyong rubs it between his hands and carefully, methodically, runs his fingers through his Tenie's hair, dark root to brown tip.
Ten smiles pleased, closing his eyes and leaning his head back as Taeyong works the oil in, massaging his fingers into his scalp, scratching lightly where he knows he likes. "You sure none of the guests followed you here?" He asks, teasingly. He'd watched a few clips of the concert while he waited to deplane and he can't say he's surprised by the blatant flirting on stage. He's accepted it's something he'll have to deal with for the rest of his life.
Ten narrows his eyes at him through the mirror. He rolls his eyes when he catches Taeyong's smile, smirking as he reaches for another little vial. "That was completely off script. They even tried it again backstage, I just… couldn't believe what was going on." He dabs another little lotion onto his cheeks, pats it in.
"You handled it well," Taeyong chuckles, continues to massage his scalp lightly as Ten looks at himself closely in the mirror, turning his head this way and that so Taeyong can't help but admire his nose. There has never been a more perfect nose in the history of the whole world. It's a nose for loving and admiring and capturing in every art form conceivable.
Ten arches a brow, looks at him knowingly, "You mean you couldn't tell I wanted to scream and run away?"
"Well…"
Ten rolls his eyes again, shudders, "I only have space for one person in my heart at the moment. I just wish they could be professional." He turns on the stool to face him and Taeyong lets his hands drop to his sides.
"You know, if we had stayed professional…"
"There's a difference. You're my hyung, my leader. You preyed on me."
Taeyong's jaw drops but he just as quickly snorts at the teasing smile overtaking Ten's face, the happy glint in his eyes, his precious nose whisker indents. Ten leans back, resting his elbows on the counter, crossing one leg over the other, "So, you gonna take me to bed, Mr. Likes-To-Give-His-Manager-Heart-Attacks?"
Then it's Taeyong's turn to roll his eyes. He wipes his hands clean on his shorts, leans down to pick Ten up bridal style with ease, "But you're happy I'm here, aren't you?"
Ten grins, sighs and presses his forehead to his cheek, murmuring with such tenderness, "Of course." It melts his heart to red, glowing embers, just waiting for Ten's sighs and approval to send it spiraling into a raging inferno of undying love.
He carries him to the bed where they get dressed down and situated. Ten discards his robe, hides himself beneath the thick duvet. Taeyong joins him once he's removed his sweatshirt and shorts, folding both neatly on the nightstand.
They curl into each other as if they're at home, though they might as well be. A majority of their relationship's taken place in random hotel rooms in a number of countries, starting from the very first moment they confessed their feelings to each other.
They lie down front to back, Ten snuggling into his waiting arms, using his bicep as a pillow. Taeyong wraps his free arm around him, nuzzles his nose to his nape, kissing a lazy trail over his lithe shoulders.
Ten almost seems to purr in his embrace and scrolls on his phone, fan videos and photos of the concert taking up the screen. His soft breaths fan against his forearm and Taeyong continues his diligent worship of the curves of Ten's shoulder, stopping only occasionally to watch the clips with him.
Ten's a one of a kind performer, an incredible singer with the stage presence of a beloved deity. And he says so, whispers how proud he is of all his hard work, how amazing he is for all he's accomplished, how brave he is for sticking it out on his own, how he'd bark and bite anyone else who dares flirt with him on stage. Ten chortles, running his fingers gently up his arm, tracing the veins.
Then he grinds back against him and Taeyong can barely stifle a sigh, embers in his lower belly making themselves known with the light touch.
"What time do you have to go?" Ten asks innocently, grinding back once again so they're nestled together like puzzle pieces.
"I— I don't know. I'll figure it out later."
"Dangerous game you're playing."
"So are you," Taeyong intertwines their legs together, rocks his hips forward, pulling a satisfied sigh from Ten's lips. "Did you bring—?"
"Does it look like I carry lube and condoms everywhere I go?"
"Well…"
"Don't answer that," he scowls at him over his shoulder. "Did you?"
"No… I thought you'd be tired," Taeyong pouts, nuzzling his nose to his ear. "I can go to the convenience store?"
"Takes too long. Guess we'll have to do it the old fashioned way," Ten sighs and arches his back, offering himself up with a small smile, letting his eyes flutter closed.
Taeyong peeks under the covers to admire the curve of his spine, the lithe muscles that line the valley leading down to venus dimples and an ass so firm and round, Taeyong could orbit it for days, caught it in its gravitational pull like a helpless satellite—
"Hyung," Ten breathes and wiggles his hips enticingly and Taeyong doesn't waste another moment, spitting onto the tips of his fingers and reaching down between them. Ten shudders at the warmth of Taeyong's deft fingers sliding over his taint, circling his hole to relax the tight ring of muscle before dipping in. Two fingers all at once cause the sudden stretch drives Ten crazy.
His breath hitches and quickens as Taeyong thrusts his fingers and nuzzles his nose to his neck, pressing chaste kisses to his pulse and the curve of his jaw and just behind his ear, until the resistance becomes too much and he has to wet his fingers again.
Sweat builds on their skin with the slow, torturous process. It's been a while since they've been intimate, and even longer since they've had to go without lube to ease the prepping. They'll have to shower again before they leave the room and perhaps they'll get a few more quickies in during if Ten's enthusiasm is anything to go by.
He's barely worked a third finger in when he keens, gripping his free hand tight, "Yongie, please."
"It'll hurt," Taeyong murmurs huskily around a pout.
"I don't care," Ten whines, reaching back to try and pull his briefs down.
The simple action sets his skin ablaze, makes it harder to keep from pulling himself free and burrowing full hilt into Ten's warmth to give them both much needed satisfaction. But he gets an idea that might hasten their lovemaking.
He runs his hands through Ten's hair, pulling it back away from his forehead, exposing his neck when he grips the strands, yanking with minimal pressure, just like he knows his fiancé likes. Ten releases a guttural moan, head leaning back against his shoulder so they're cheek to cheek, putty in his hands.
Enough oil collects on his fingers for Taeyong to finally ease three in completely. He rubs that little spongy bundle that sends a pretty red flush up across Ten's glistening body, that has him squeaking out moans from around the fist in his mouth.
Taeyong pulls his cock free, strokes the mixture of hair oil and spit and precum all over. Ten holds his thigh up and Taeyong leads himself in. Despite the prepping, he's still tight enough to make the journey in a slow long series of grunts and moans and panting the other's name.
They choke when Taeyong's pelvis is finally flush against Ten's ass, leaving space for nothing else but their huffs to fill the hotel room. Ten recovers quicker, hugs his arm, leads his hand to his perky chest. He whines, "I'm so happy you're here, my love."
Taeyong smiles and blushes as easily as he would have years ago when their affections were shy and new.
"I'm so happy," Ten sighs again, the weight of his entire career carried behind it.
Years upon years of hard work and set backs and recovery have cumulated into this moment. Taeyong can picture no one else more deserving of unconditional love and praise and affection and unwavering support.
"I love you, Tenie," he says, hoping it'll convey all the pride churning in his chest and through every vein and capillary.
Ten turns his face, sweet adoration in his beautiful fox-like eyes, "I love you too, Taeyongie."
They lean close, nuzzling their noses together briefly before their lips meet, kissing languid as if they have all the time in the world. Until Taeyong smooths a hand over his hip, sinks his fingers into the plush muscle, begins to rock back and forth, trying to press himself even deeper, and moans slip from Ten's tongue onto his, sweet as honey straight from the honeycomb.