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He arches his back sinfully, undulating his hips methodically and well-practised, his thighs beginning to shake, muscles burning with the exertion.
Yei lies beneath him, shirtless, his skin coated in a glistening sheen of sweat, breaths heavy and lascivious, grunting quietly with each roll of Cher's hips.
The black rubber matting lining the floor beneath them sticks to Cher's reddened knees, slick with sweat but steadfast, as he bites his lip against a groan.
“Fuck,” Yei grinds out, his large hands gripping hard at Cher's slim hips, his desperate fingers up the back of Cher's sweat dampened t-shirt, pressing insistently into the soft, overheated skin of his lower back.
“Shh!” Cher chastises, shushing him and throwing a glance towards the doors behind him, his hands on Yei's flushed chest, fingertips digging into hard muscle.
Yei chuckles, mirth mixing with the absolute adoration painted across his expression. “No one's here, sweetheart,” he soothes breathlessly, well acquainted with Cher's anxieties, thumbs brushing gently at the jut of Cher’s hip bones.
Cher clicks his tongue in annoyance, shaking his head a little, before moving sinuously once more.
The heat of Yei's gaze forces molten desire to pool in Cher's lower belly, his cock twitching where it thuds obscenely against his clothed stomach, smearing the fabric with wetness.
Eventually he falters slightly as his thighs start to tire, and Yei shifts his feet on the mat, nearly sending Cher off balance, forcing a yelp from his throat as he grabs for Yei's shoulders with both hands.
Cher eyes him with an incredulous look, full of admonishment, though he knows there is fondness in it. How could there not be, when it's him?
Yei chuckles again, before fucking up into the clutching heat of Cher's body, delighting in the gasp that falls from Cher's open mouth, marvelling at the moan that follows soon after.
It's quick, and it's messy, and it's more than they have time for; Cher had complained when Yei had crowded him against the filing cabinet in the office, and again when he'd pressed up behind him in the gym.
But finally he'd conceded. As he always does. Yei, impossible to ignore, a firm line against his back, already hard in his shorts.
He'd breathed at Cher’s neck, balmy and humid, his voice a soft utterance of sweet nothings as his hand traversed Cher’s torso, scorching and firm through the cotton of his t-shirt.
Cher's breath had stuttered under the assault, his skin erupting in goosebumps. Then Yei had smoothed his hand down over Cher's abdomen, until he had a sure grip on him over his shorts, squeezing at him, massaging Cher's cock to full hardness.
Dropping his head back against Yei's shoulder, he'd protested weakly; it's not the time, not the place, but Yei just hummed a rumble against the shell of his ear, sending a shiver down Cher's spine and a breathy gasp from between parted lips.
Yei pushes himself up, his forearm wrapped around the small of Cher’s back, bunching his oversized t-shirt up around his waist, Cher’s hands still clinging at Yei's shoulders.
He presses his nose to Cher's clammy neck, overtly breathing him in, mouthing at his skin as he guides Cher's movements, easing the ache at his thighs.
“Fuck,” Yei grinds out again, this time a low and rumbling growl, the sound pressed into Cher's throat, sharp teeth nipping at the sensitive underside of Cher's jaw.
Cher screws up his face, squeezing his eyes shut, biting his lower lip, abusing it to a deep scarlet, whilst his nails bite their own fuchsia crescents into Yei's naked shoulder blades.
“Let me hear you,” Yei pants, moving Cher faster, more frantic, “I want to hear you”.
He huffs an exasperated breath through his nose, dropping his head and pressing his forehead to Yei's, trapping his sweat dampened hair between them. He exhales sharply into the inch of space between their lips, still swallowing down the sounds Yei is working diligently at driving from him.
“Come on,” Yei urges, “darling, come on, I need to hear it,” his hand snaking between them and taking Cher's cock in a solid grasp.
A gasp of an inhale, a broken off moan, sets Yei more frenetic, his forearm still rigid at Cher's lower back, his dry hand rapidly moistening with the sticky evidence of Cher's arousal.
“Yei,” Cher finally moans aloud, the repetition of his name becoming a desperate breathy chant as he hurtles towards his impending release.
He bounces in Yei's lap, thrusting up into the blazing funnel of Yei's fingers, chasing his orgasm, his arms wrapped around Yei's neck, fingers sliding into the wet hair at his nape.
After he comes, he pants puffs of air against Yei's mouth, clenching around him as Yei still fucks into him. He whimpers a whine of overstimulation, tugging vaguely at the hair caught between his fingers at the back of Yei's neck.
Yei spills inside of him with a drawn out moan, sucking a messy, winded kiss to Cher's mouth, a gnawing of teeth at his lower lip.
Their foreheads still together, they try to catch their breaths, sated and spent. Yei lifts his hand to cup Cher's cheek, thumbing gently at the rosy blush there, “I love you,” he murmurs, his own cheeks rising with a lazy grin.
Cher huffs a sheepish laugh, bashful now with the sweat and come cooling on their skin, “come on, let's shower, we're all sweaty,” he enjoins with a tender shove to Yei’s shoulder.
Yei holds around him, preventing his escape, both arms encircling his waist, pressing their bodies closer, chest to chest, “say it, tell me,” he entreats.
With a timorous shake of his head and a long suffering sigh, Cher leans in, their lips almost touching, “I love you,” he speaks against Yei's mouth. “I love you,” he repeats, emboldened somewhat by Yei's answering soft smile, “more than anything”.