“Lu Han ge, stop!” Yixing shrieked, the side of his head defensively meeting the top of his shoulder in attempts to protect his neck. His entire body recoiled into a ball and he tried to step away. Lu Han was laughing.

“Come on, Yixing!” Lu Han wrapped his arms around his companion’s shoulders and pinned him against the kitchen wall. The blond blew a steady stream of air against the other side of his neck; right in that soft spot below his ear. A shiver assaulted Yixing’s spine and he tried to melt against the wall.

“Gege, please, we’re at home now, the game’s over!”

“But your reaction is so cute.” Lu Han closed his eyes and blew another puff of air. Yixing made a strangled noise and shivered again. He could feel the warmth of Lu Han’s smiling lips radiating against his skin.

Yixing tried to jerk away, but his sudden movement caused those warm lips to make direct contact with his neck. Yixing felt panic bubble in his chest; he cried out and shoved Lu Han away.

“Ge, you can’t!”

Lu Han’s expression sobered. He stared at the ground. He let go.

“Is your neck that sensitive? I didn’t know it really bothered you so much.” Lu Han’s guilty eyes flitted up to Yixing’s for barely a second before turning around and starting towards his bedroom. “Sorry.”

“It’s…” The realization hit Yixing; it was now or never. He was suddenly very aware of his heart fluttering rapidly against his ribs. He raised a hand to his chest as if he could calm it. Now or never, Yixing.

“It’s not that.” He croaks out. Lu Han’s hand is on his doorknob, but he glances up to match Yixing’s gaze.

“It’s because…” The younger looks around to make sure there are no other members around, takes a step forward. Another. Another.

“It’s because it turns me on.” Yixing admits, his voice barely a quiet breath. His teeth find his bottom lip, chewing worriedly.

“That’s why you won’t let us touch your neck?” Lu Han’s eyes widen considerably. Yixing nods, eyes glued to the empty space on the wall. The elder taps his lips in thought, turning back to face his bandmate. When he speaks again, his voice is lower in timbre. “So it’s like a switch.”

“What?”

“A switch.” Lu Han raises a hand to Yixing’s shoulder. The younger watches him wearily, his heart even faster than before. “An on-off switch for our dancing machine.”

“Well, I--” Yixing’s voice melts into a moan and surprises even himself. Lu Han’s hand has slid up to rest in the curve between neck and shoulder. His thumb rubs tender, sensual circles into that same sweet spot. Yixing feels his knees go weak.

“Don’t worry,” Lu Han assures. “This will be our secret.”

He leans in to nibble the delicate flesh on Yixing’s neck, and Yixing suddenly wonders if the lock on Lu Han’s door is in working order.