[oneshot] the smash brothers
Title: the smash brothers
Pairing: baekhyun/chen (chanyeol/d.o if you squint)
Rating: nc17
Genre: au, romance, slice-of-life
Warnings: swearing, consensual sex between two minors, rimming
Author: gdgdbaby
Notes: chinguline esports/pro gaming au ft. various other members. basically everyone plays competitive super smash brothers melee! based heavily on this documentary. 6,388 words.
The first time Jongdae sees Baekhyun play is at the TG4 tournament that Minseok Kim hosts the summer of 2008. No one in the Norcal scene even knows who the fuck this kid is, some random user from Los Angeles who had been bragging on the Smashboards about being the best Melee player in the world. His gamer tag was Byuntae. Talked a big game, so Minseok himself had driven down to money-match him in late May before the tournament. He'd come back with a million and one stories about what this kid could do.
In person, he doesn't seem like much. Jongdae sees Byuntae's spidery fingers jiggling away at the controller in front of the old TV in Minseok's living room, a whole crowd of people gathered around him and the guy he's playing, and raises his eyebrows. Byuntae is skinny, even smaller than Jongdae is. Bowl-cut hair, wonky nose, resting bitch face. Mole over his lip, and one on his thumb. He lounges back in his chair without a care in the world and loses the first set to the other guy's Marth by three stocks.
"Don't play Kirby," Jongdae advises helpfully over his shoulder, a little pitying. "He's too low-tier. Just a tip."
Byuntae flicks his gaze up and grins, showing his sharp canines. "Don't worry," he says, glancing at Jongdae's nametag. "FunkyLord92. I'm just getting started."
Jongdae rolls his eyes. Gamers like this were a dime a dozen in the Melee scene, people who tended to talk a lot of shit and never deliver.
Minseok jostles into Jongdae's shoulder as Byuntae selects Jigglypuff. Jongdae poorly disguises a bark of laughter behind his hand and turns.
"You said he was good," he whispers, accusatory.
Minseok shakes his head. "Trust me. You haven't seen anything yet."
Byuntae picks Green Greens as the stage and proceeds to completely wipe the floor with his opponent's ass, using Jigglypuff of all mains. Byuntae's style is erratic and risky-he's off the main map more often than not, but every single hit he lands matters. He wins the second set and the third set without even losing a life. "What the fuck," Jongdae says as the rest of the room erupts into loud cheers at Byuntae's victory, his fingers clenched around the back of Byuntae's chair.
"I told you," Minseok says smugly.
The other guy, gamer tag Choballs, slumps in his seat. "I could've beaten him if I'd gotten more sleep last night," he starts whining, and Minseok cuts him off with a curt look.
"No Kevins," Jongdae says drily.
Byuntae twists his head to frown up at him. "Who's Kevin?"
"Damn," Jongdae says, patting Byuntae on the shoulder. "You've got a lot to learn."
"Kevin," Minseok says, as the milling crowd shifts to his kitchen to watch the next quarterfinal match commence, "was this Melee player from Canada who came to TG3 last summer. Every time he lost he'd make up some stupid excuse, like-"
"Someone was touching my shoulder the whole game," Jongdae supplies, shaking his head.
"I drank too much last night," Minseok continues. "I have a congenital heart disease. Pretty much anything you can think of. Since then, we've called any stupid excuse a Kevin. Every game is equal. If you lose, you lose. And if you win-well." He brandishes the wad of prize money in his hand before shoving it back in his pocket. "You know how it is."
Byuntae jerks his finger at Choballs' retreating back. "So that was a Kevin?"
"Well, I think his real name is Jino," Jongdae says. "But you could say that." He throws the idea around in his head for a minute before stretching his hand out for a firm handshake. Baekhyun looks surprised, and then pleased. "What's yours?"
"Baekhyun," he says, grinning. His hand is warm in Jongdae's. "I'm gonna win the entire tournament with Jigglypuff."
"I'm Jongdae," Jongdae says, eyes flashing. "And we'll see about that."
Baekhyun does end up winning the tournament, and the four hundred dollar cash prize. On the Smashboards, Jigglypuff makes a huge leap on the Melee character tier list, and Baekhyun keeps an obnoxious "#1 SMASH PLAYER IN THE WORLD!!!" in his forum signature for the next four months.
"Hey," Jongdae says, the next time they see each other at a local Gamestop tournament when Jongdae visits family in Los Angeles. "Wanna play doubles?"
Baekhyun sends him a considering look. Jongdae's Pikachu had lost to his Jigglypuff in the finals at TG4, but just barely. Jongdae holds his breath. Finally, Baekhyun claps him on the shoulder. "Let's do this shit," he says, and Jongdae grins.
The East Coast kids start stirring shit the next summer, right before TG5. "They say he's the best in the country," Jongdae comments casually, when Baekhyun comes to stay over at Minseok's so they can practice before the big tournament. "His gamer tag is KoreanDJ."
"More like Korean-Suck-My-Dick," Baekhyun says. It isn't witty at all, but Jongdae knows better than to distract him when he's razing Minseok's Samus to the ground.
"I'm just saying," Jongdae says, flopping back in the couch and kicking his feet onto the coffee table. Minseok sends him a quick warning look before mashing at his controller. "If you really want to be the best, you'll have to beat them, too."
"You mean we have to," Baekhyun says, eyes luminous. Minseok roars in outrage as he loses his last stock and drops his controller on the floor.
"Right," Jongdae breathes. "We have to."
KoreanDJ is ridiculously tall and has a shock of curly orange hair that sits on top of his head like a bird's nest. Despite that, he doesn't seem much older than Baekhyun or Jongdae, given that he's wearing flannel over his Captain America t-shirt and laughs at everything everyone says. He has a short quiet kid in tow with him, big coke-bottle glasses on his face. The other kid doesn't seem to want to be here at all, trapped at the local Y on a summer weekend. "We're signing up last minute for doubles," KoreanDJ says, voice lower and rougher than Jongdae expected. Minseok nods and marks them down on the bracket before getting called away to deal with a couple of Smashers who had clogged the toilet up.
"Who's your main?" Jongdae asks curiously.
KoreanDJ grins. "Money-match me for five bucks and you'll find out."
Jongdae totally owns KoreanDJ's Luigi. Turns out the East Coast isn't as good as they say they are. But it's what happens after the match that gets to him the most: KoreanDJ turns toward Jongdae and proceeds to list out every single one of Jongdae's Pikachu maneuvers back at him, how he'll stick near the edges of the stage and wait for his opponent to come to him, relying too heavily on lightning strikes to finish the job. "So you play pretty defensively, don't you?" he finishes, folding his arms across his chest. "Not a bad strategy."
"What?" Jongdae asks. "How did you-you got all that out of one set?"
KoreanDJ shrugs and grins again. "It's kind of a specialty of mine."
Baekhyun pops up next to Jongdae's shoulder like a ghost. "Wanna money-match me?" he suggests, eyeing KoreanDJ's short friend.
The other guy's eyes go wider than they were before, which Jongdae hadn't thought was actually possible. "Me?" he asks, voice soft and husky. "No, I'm fine."
They wander off. Jongdae shrugs helplessly when Baekhyun sends him a weird look. "Must be something in the New York City water," Baekhyun says. "Come on, let's practice."
Baekhyun and Jongdae work their way up the doubles bracket over the course of the tournament, breezing through the other hopefuls. They beat the previous year's winners before noon the second day, HZTTTAO's Zelda and GuardianAngel's Princess Peach.
Their last match is against KoreanDJ and DKS.
"Is that pronounced Dicks?" Baekhyun snickers.
"You have a problem," Jongdae says, elbowing him. "But really, how did they make it to the final?"
"Who? Oh, KoreanDJ?"
"Yeah. I mean, he sucked when he money-matched me. I thought it was all hype, just some hot air from the East Coast because they were pissed Cali Smashers were better."
"He was also playing with Luigi," Baekhyun points out. "Whatever. It doesn't matter. Go play your singles match." The corner of his mouth jumps. "I'll be waiting for you at the top of the winner's bracket."
"Yeah, yeah," Jongdae says. "Go eat a dick."
Except Jongdae gets bumped to the loser's bracket during the next round of singles because of KoreanDJ's quiet friend. DKS's Jigglypuff is as different from Baekhyun's as night is from day. Baekhyun is constantly on the offensive, always looking for openings, and risky as hell when his character is off the stage. In contrast, DKS plays even more defensively than Jongdae does, almost a sterile, clinical style that barely leaves any openings for Jongdae to use. He loses two sets to one. DKS offers his hand out to shake after the final set.
"I hope you're ready," Jongdae says, dropping by Baekhyun's singles match on the second story of Minseok's house. "These East Coast guys are no joke."
Baekhyun finishes his opponent off and sends him a strange look. "What's up? I've never seen you this worried before."
"You'll see."
"I hate this guy," Baekhyun announces, the minute DKS selects Jigglypuff on the setup screen.
DKS sends him a vaguely alarmed look from the seat next to KoreanDJ.
"There can only be one," Jongdae intones, and KoreanDJ chuckles.
"Let's have a good game, guys," Minseok says. "You can start at any time."
It's one of the most frantic matches Jongdae has ever played. It's like Baekhyun's out to prove something because of the Jigglypuff ditto, and because of his agitation, he takes even riskier chances throughout the match, springing wildly off the stage to hack DKS and KoreanDJ out. Ever since Jongdae first saw him play, Baekhyun has always had some type of unholy luck, an innate understanding of the physics of Melee, and his fingers move at the speed of light, probably, so he comes out on top more often than not. Still, there are some heart-stopping moments when both teams are neck and neck and Baekhyun pulls something out of his ass, and it means Jongdae has to have his back at all times. Fortunately, he's had a lot of practice over the past year of playing with Baekhyun to adapt to the situation.
KoreanDJ's main turns out to be Marth. "Fourteen-year-old me thought he was the most handsome character, like myself in real life," he explains, after he and DKS lose the second set by a hair. "It helps that he's a badass in-game."
"Yeah," DKS says. "Say that the next time Jigglypuff sings his ass off the stage."
That startles a laugh out of Jongdae, who's running on nerves after playing so much Smash for the past 40 hours. Everyone's voices seem a little too loud every time he goes on this kind of tear, and there's an awful cramp in his hand. He bets the statistics for Smashers who develop carpal tunnel syndrome are ridiculous.
Baekhyun's head is warm and heavy when it lands on his shoulder briefly. "Three more matches," he says in Jongdae's ear, and Jongdae swallows and nods. "Hey. I need you."
"You got it," Jongdae says. He rubs a cramp out with his thumb and squares his shoulders. "Let's go."
When Jongdae really gets in the zone, it's like everything else in the world melts away. The aching tension in his shoulders, the rising and falling murmur of the crowd gathered to watch the final match behind him, the rumbling in his stomach after not having eaten more than a handful of chips and a tangerine in the past two days. All of that is gone. There's nothing but the controller in his hands and the characters moving across the 2D stage, his eyesight blurring a little even as he focuses, Pikachu plugging in all the defensive holes behind Baekhyun's pink Jigglypuff and edging in some nasty shots on KoreanDJ's Marth to boot.
They win the third set. KoreanDJ and DKS take the fourth, and then it's down to the last one, Baekhyun's sweat trickling down the side of his face, his fingers settling lightly on Jongdae's knee for a brief moment before they're clutched around his controller again, eyes shining with the spark of a challenge.
A quiet hush settles over the entire house as the last set commences. Baekhyun's everywhere at once, Jigglypuff cartwheeling through the sky as the Green Greens music starts up in stark contrast to the gravitas of the situation. Jongdae's thumb slips a little and he loses a stock when Marth brings his sword down and knocks him off the stage. The tree starts blowing half a second later and Baekhyun avenges his lost life.
Sweat drips into Jongdae's eyes. He blinks around it and keeps forging on. Baekhyun lets out a quiet huff next to him and wave dashes ahead, punts DKS's Jigglypuff off the screen.
Jongdae's breath catches in the back of his throat and holds. He gets sent out before Baekhyun does, but so does KoreanDJ-and then it's two Jigglypuffs duking it out on Green Greens, one brash and quick and loud, and the other still and quiet.
Jongdae's only played DKS twice, once when he lost the first time and then again in the loser's bracket, but he can tell Baekhyun's style of play wears him down. As if Baekhyun has so many holes in his defense that DKS doesn't even know where to start, and in the split second he uses to decide, Baekhyun's already bearing down on him like the hammer of God. Or King Dididi's. With one stock left each, DKS tries to kick Baekhyun off the stage for the third time and misses. Baekhyun's Jigglypuff edgehogs for two seconds and then flips up to punch DKS's, 109%, 116%, 129%-and-
GAME. The entire house erupts into noise around him, the sound crashing through Jongdae's head like water broken through a dam, and then Baekhyun's grabbing his shoulders and shakes him, roaring out his victory. Jongdae laughs helplessly, torso like jelly, flopping back and forth with Baekhyun's every move. "We're number one in the world," he yells, so excited his eyes look like they're about to pop out of their sockets.
"In America, more like," Jongdae hears DKS say drily behind them, but Baekhyun ignores it. He leans forward and smacks a resounding kiss on Jongdae's mouth before turning and gladhanding all the spectators surging around them.
They all go out to eat on Minseok's dime after the tournament is over, a hundred sweaty, tired gamers piling into the closest McDonald's down the street at midnight on Sunday. KoreanDJ, real name Chanyeol, had won singles by a sliver of a margin, with Byuntae coming in second. "You were good," Baekhyun says grudgingly around a mouthful of chicken nugget. "We'll get it back next year, though, so you better watch out."
DKS, real name Kyungsoo, glances distastefully at the flecks of chicken spraying out of Baekhyun's mouth. "You were good, too," Chanyeol says, earnest as ever. He brandishes a crisp French fry at Baekhyun's face. "I don't know how you do the stuff you do with that Jigglypuff, it's kind of insane."
Baekhyun sends him a gratified look. Kyungsoo trades glances with Jongdae over his shoulder and snorts when Jongdae makes a face.
Baekhyun spends the night at Jongdae's house before he has to drive back down to Los Angeles in the morning. In the bathroom, he's still riding the high of the win, brushing his teeth while grooving to We Are The Champions blasting through Jongdae's iPod speakers.
"Hey," Jongdae says later, when he's lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. He puts a hand to his mouth and runs the tip of his index finger over his lower lip. "Earlier. After we won. Was that-was that like a Fredo kiss or something?" He hazards a glance down at the floor.
Baekhyun turns over in his sleeping bag and stares up at him, eyes shining. "What?"
"You kissed me," Jongdae says, feeling a bit like an idiot. Something warm bubbles up from his stomach and expands in his chest. "I just-I don't-"
"You're stupid," Baekhyun cuts in. He scrambles out of his sleeping bag, damp hair hanging in his eyes, and comes to stand at the edge of Jongdae's bed, looming over him. Some time in the past year Baekhyun's filled out, shoulders broader than Jongdae's now. His nose is a little less wonky. He purses his lips, like he's considering something. Then, he bends down carefully and kisses Jongdae again.
The angle's pretty awkward. Jongdae props himself up on a hand and reaches up on instinct to palm the back of Baekhyun's neck, gasping when Baekhyun shivers and slides his tongue into Jongdae's mouth. The tip of it runs over the ridge behind his teeth, tickles the roof of his mouth, and Jongdae feels his toes curl into his sheets.
"Scoot over," Baekhyun says, muffled, and Jongdae makes room for him, like he had when they first met, like he does in every doubles match they play together, hand sliding down to the flat of Baekhyun's back and curling loosely there.
"Shit," Jongdae says, pulling back to breathe.
Baekhyun regards him quietly for a second. "Thanks," he says, and Jongdae narrows his eyes.
"What for?"
"I dunno," he says, glancing away, and Jongdae is amazed to realize that Baekhyun's nervous. It's the first time he's ever seen him act remotely insecure about anything. It's kind of cute. And kind of refreshing for someone like Baekhyun, who's all big talk and big bluster and big action. To see him fiddling with his lower lip between his teeth for wont of something to say.
"Cat got your tongue?" Jongdae says, grinning.
Baekhyun lets out a huff of laughter. "Technically," he says, scooting closer, breathing the same air as Jongdae's again, their mouths half an inch apart, "yes."
In the morning, Jongdae helps Baekhyun carry his tiny suitcase out to his beatup old Corolla. It's a five and a half hour drive back down to Los Angeles. Baekhyun's got a huge box of Goldfish to keep him company for the ride.
"Come visit soon," he says, leaning against the passenger's side door when all his stuff is packed up and ready to go. "We have to keep our practice up, you know. Especially if I want to totally demolish Chanyeol at the next tournament. And keep our doubles record intact."
"You sure you don't have any ulterior motives?" Jongdae challenges, thinking about the previous night, Baekhyun's mouth on his neck, his harsh breathing when Jongdae had been adventurous and stuck his hand down Baekhyun's boxers.
Baekhyun laughs. "Yeah, well. That too."
The next time Jongdae drives down to Los Angeles is during fall break their senior year. Baekhyun's parents are gracious and welcoming and give him Baekhyun's brother's old room, the one with a king-sized bed and big bay windows that face the lawn. "They didn't even let me move in after my brother went to college," Baekhyun grouses, mock hurt laced through his voice. "I can't believe you like him better than me, your own son." He makes an irritated noise when Jongdae slings an arm over his shoulder.
Jongdae doesn't end up spending much time in Baekbeom's room anyway. They play Smash in the living room the entire first weekend, steadily working their way through a jumbo box of pepperoni hot pockets and trading friendly insults over their controllers. Baekhyun's getting better with Fox and Falcon. "Are you trying to phase Jigglypuff out?" Jongdae asks curiously, after he soundly whoops Baekhyun's ass in a Pikachu ditto.
Baekhyun shrugs. He props his feet up on a cabinet and leans back on two legs of his chair. "After that match against DKS, it just feels weird." He makes a face.
"Is this jealousy?"
"No," Baekhyun snaps, and nearly falls backward when he jerks in his chair. He slides a hand through his hair and worries his lower lip between his teeth. Jongdae wants so badly to kiss him, but they're out in the open and Baekhyun's parents are milling around the kitchen making dinner for them. "I just think branching out could be good for us."
Jongdae snorts. "I'm still the best Pikachu main. And you're still the best Jigglypuff main, no one can take that away from you."
The corner of Baekhyun's mouth lifts. "Gross. You going soft on me?"
Jongdae makes a face. "Wow. If this is how you're going to react every time, that's the last time I ever say anything nice about you."
"Sorry, I meant-I'm so touched," Baekhyun says, pressing a dramatic hand to his chest. He ducks away, laughing, when Jongdae kicks the leg of his chair.
Jongdae hasn't been to Socal that often, usually stays up in SanFran and hangs out with friends from school, so he appreciates it when Baekhyun drags him out of the house on Monday morning. There's only so much Smash they can play before one or both of them starts going cross-eyed.
Outside of semi-professional gaming and the occasional big tournament, Baekhyun seems to be into fairly normal teenage dude things like music and movies. And eating. For lunch on Tuesday, Jongdae drives the two of them to In-N-Out, and Baekhyun makes the disastrous decision of challenging Jongdae to see who can eat the most burgers. Jongdae's pretty sure he's going to puke forever after it's over, his stomach swollen and heavy like a rock, but he edges Baekhyun out with seven double-doubles to Baekhyun's six.
"What do I get for winning?" Jongdae groans, doubled over against the wheel after they've driven back to Baekhyun's house.
Baekhyun waves a careless hand in the air, even as his face goes a little green and he jams a palm over his mouth. "I'll think of something. First, I have to try not to explode."
The prize, to Jongdae's mild mortification, turns out to be a visit to an out-of-the-way sex shop on Thursday. Baekhyun walks in brandishing his fake ID and trades high fives with the guy behind the counter, who has the prettiest face that Jongdae's seen on a dude and introduces himself as Lu Han. "Nice to meet you, Jongdae," he says, eyes twinkling. Jongdae didn't know real life eyes actually did that. Lu Han could be a live action Princess Peach with the right wig, Jongdae thinks, and then shakes the thought out of his head with alarm. "I'd recommend the cock rings, they're on sale for half off until the end of the month."
"Eurk," Jongdae says. Baekhyun's chuckling as he steers him away.
They halt in front of the dildo aisle. The dildo aisle, Jongdae thinks a little wildly. He isn't an innocent by any stretch of the imagination, has watched his fair share of porn, the little hidden folder on his laptop and everything, but something about the suddenness of this is getting to him. He's not even sure what he and Baekhyun are, if they're dating, if they're friends with benefits, if they're still just Smash doubles partners who are, when the occasion arises, open to fooling around with one another. They hadn't exactly talked about it the last time Jongdae saw him, after TG5. For all Jongdae knew, Baekhyun was just being an asshole as usual and hadn't thought anything of what they'd done. He certainly hadn't mentioned it all week.
"Pick anything you like," Baekhyun says, cool as a cucumber, cutting through Jongdae's increasingly chaotic thoughts like a knife. Jongdae jumps back guiltily, and holds a hand against his neck, scratching at his nape.
"What do you mean?" It comes out in a gentle wheeze. Jongdae coughs twice, tries to clear the sudden scratchiness from his throat. Baekhyun's still smiling, almost fond, and Jongdae feels something settle in his chest, tight and tense. "I mean, what do you mean by that? Pick anything I like-for me?"
Baekhyun's smile widens. He hooks an arm through Jongdae's and pulls him forward, hand settling at the small of Jongdae's back, like he's an automobile salesman trying to push a million dollar car. "Pick anything you'd like," Baekhyun clarifies, "to use on me."
The huge sign in front of him says COCK RINGS: 50% OFF in rainbow marker and an overabundance of glitter. Jongdae can barely even focus on it because his stomach's just dropped out of his body and is now chilling near his feet. His mouth is so dry it tastes like cardboard.
He looks down the aisle and thinks about Baekhyun with one of the cock rings on-a vibrator stuck up his ass while Jongdae swiped his tongue across the tip of Baekhyun's cock, just shallow enough to watch him squirm-and feels his pants tighten.
"Anything?" Jongdae repeats. He doesn't know what kind of expression he's wearing, but Baekhyun sees it and swallows, his arm tightening around Jongdae's.
"Anything," Baekhyun says.
In the background, Lu Han says, "I really, really recommend the cock rings."
The extent of Baekhyun's planning for tonight becomes clear when they pull back up to his house and his parents are on their way out to visit Baekbeom, who lives in Vegas with his wife. "Stay safe, have fun, don't wreck anything in the house," Baekhyun's mom rattles off before she ducks back into the car. His dad guns the engine and zooms off.
"So we have the house to ourselves," Jongdae says, stating the obvious because he has nothing more appropriate to say. He glances down at the inconspicuous bag in his hand and then up at Baekhyun again. He's framed by the backlight of the bathroom, shining forth like a halo around his head. Jongdae would make some cheesy video game reference in his head but he finds there's a weird lump in his throat, like the one that had clogged it up when he'd paid at Lu Han's shop earlier. It's stupid, really. This is Baekhyun. He's never had a problem talking out of his ass around him before, and it shouldn't be different now, even if he had taken him to an adult sex toy shop. And basically propositioned him. And was now in a house with him, alone.
Baekhyun holds his stare for a moment and then steps away, toward the bathroom. "I'm taking a shower," he says casually. "Don't wait up."
Jongdae drops the plastic bag in his suitcase and flops back on Baekhyun's bed. It smells like laundry detergent and fabric softener and Pantene Pro-V, and a little bit like sweat, salty and pervasive, which are all scents Jongdae has come to associate with Baekhyun since the first time he met him. There's a model figurine of Jigglypuff sitting on Baekhyun's bookshelf, from a tournament they'd gone to together the last time Jongdae had been in Los Angeles. At TG4, when Minseok was still running the tournaments out of his own house and let everyone and their mother crash at his place, Jongdae remembers how Baekhyun had looked at half past midnight after the final match, licking his finger and counting all four hundred dollars of his winnings out while people crowded around him on Minseok's couch.
Some things are different now, but others are exactly the same: the tiny mole above Baekhyun's lip, the one inside his left ear, the one on his thumb that people on the SmashBoards always said was good luck. The Hand of God, or whatever. It's all painfully familiar. The way Baekhyun's lashes catch the light when he looks down. Sweat trickling down his temple when he was playing an opponent that could match him. His slender fingers, bent delicately at the joints, and how they had looked around Jongdae's cock-
Baekhyun pushes into his room, fresh-faced, cheeks scrubbed red from his shower. There's only a towel around his waist; his hands are in his hair, straining it dry. "Your bathroom," he says, tossing a dry towel at him.
Jongdae forcibly tears his gaze away from the water running down Baekhyun's chest and scurries into the bathroom. The hot water from the shower head does nothing to curb the bubbling in his stomach, only manages to make him more agitated. He almost slips in the tub after he soaps up, but manages to grab onto one of the water knobs before he crashes all the way down and concusses himself.
It's only until he's stepped out of the shower, steam billowing around him, that he realizes he forgot to bring a change of clothes in. The towel Baekhyun handed him is, of course, barely large enough to wrap once around his waist. That fucker. Jongdae shakes the water out of his hair and brushes his teeth on double time, feeling like he's about to leap out of his skin.
Jongdae pauses outside the door of Baekhyun's bedroom, shifting from foot to foot. He leans in close to the wood. He hears a muffled thump, and then a quiet squeaking noise.
When he finally pushes the door open, Baekhyun's on all fours on his bed, spine curved so that his chest is pressed into the mattress, two fingers crooked up his ass. Jongdae feels all the breath leave him as Baekhyun's fingers slide deeper and a loud moan scratches it way out of Baekhyun's mouth, shoots right to Jongdae's dick like it's hotwired to react every time.
He stands rooted to the carpet as Baekhyun rocks back into his own hand, erection already sticking out from his damp pubic hair and curving up toward the gentle swell of his stomach. Jongdae's mouth waters a little.
"Are you just going to watch all night, or what?" Baekhyun gasps. "Fuck, Jongdae. Come over here already. I've been waiting for this all week. Don't make me wait more."
Jongdae's throat works, Adam's apple corking his esophagus, and lets the door snap shut behind him. He drops the towel around his waist and moves toward the bed in a daze. In that time, Baekhyun's fit a third finger inside himself. The muscles in his back go slack as his head tips forward into the pillows. His next moan is muffled by a mouthful of fabric.
"Gonna use any of the new shit you got today?" Baekhyun asks, and Jongdae remembers, with a sudden jolt, the plastic bag in his suitcase. He drifts over and fishes it back out, peers inside. Selects the cock ring Lu Han had managed to press on him, some sort of simple blindfold, and a pair of fluffy handcuffs. When he gets to the bed again, Baekhyun's regarding him quietly over his shoulder, damp bangs sticking to his forehead, eyes dark with pupil. "Good choices," he says, and Jongdae's mouth lifts in answer to the big grin on Baekhyun's face.
"You are such a little shit, you know that?" Jongdae says. The mattress dips as he climbs onto the bed, knees dipping into the soft sheets. He finally reaches out and smoothes a hand down Baekhyun's thigh. Swallows when Baekhyun leans into it, still finger-fucking himself. "Take your hand out," he continues firmly, and grabs Baekhyun by the hips to still him. "I wanna-I want to try something."
"What is it?" Baekhyun asks curiously, attempting to follow the trajectory of Jongdae's gaze as he shifts lower.
"I dunno," he says. He doesn't want to think about it too much. He's already done enough thinking. Now, he just wants to do something. "I think I saw it in a porno once," he continues, and then he leans down and takes the pink pucker of Baekhyun's asshole into his mouth.
The entire line of Baekhyun's body goes tense beneath his hands. Baekhyun lets out this little wrecked cry, a tiny lilting thing. When the tip of Jongdae's tongue breaches the rim, the sound crescendos into a series of ah-ah-ahs as Baekhyun fucks himself on Jongdae's mouth, clenching down on tongue. He tastes sweet, like the lube he'd slathered all over his hand, and his body is so warm. Jongdae wonders what it would feel like to sink his erection into that heat and sucks on Baekhyun's asshole so hard that Baekhyun wails into his pillow, hand dropping between his legs to press against his erection.
"No," Jongdae says, rising, and lifts the handcuffs off the bed. He grabs Baekhyun's bony wrist and cuffs one, then the other, so his delicate fingers are clasped against the small of his back. Baekhyun lets out a low groan and tries to rut into the mattress, but Jongdae hauls him up by the hips and holds him there, ass stuck in the air, face flushed and sweaty and half-buried in his pillow.
Baekhyun twists his neck and stares back at Jongdae again, eyes pleading. His lips are parted and his chest is heaving with breath. Jongdae wipes his mouth with his hand and grabs the handy condom sitting on Baekhyun's bedside table next to his bottle of lube, rolls it on himself with an elastic pop. "Shit," Baekhyun says, legs thrashing a little when Jongdae curves his body over Baekhyun's and slides the cock ring over his swollen dick. "Come on, Jongdae, can you just-"
"Just what?" Jongdae asks, grinning. All his tension has bled away. He finds he's enjoying himself immensely, seeing Baekhyun all trussed up like this for him, totally helpless. For all Baekhyun's big talk, Jongdae had him at his complete and utter mercy in this moment. Jongdae's pretty sure it isn't something a lot of people can say they've experienced before. All the other questions and insecurities seem to melt away in the face of this, this monumental fact, that Baekhyun would let Jongdae do this to him. "You have to ask nicely, Baekhyun. I know you can do it."
"God, fuck you," Baekhyun mutters. He tries to thrust down into the bed again but Jongdae's grip tightens, keeps his cock bobbing in the air, hard and untouched.
"I don't think so," Jongdae says, tisking. His thumb runs over one of the dimples in Baekhyun's lower back, dips into the crevice. "What is it that you want? You have to tell me, or else I won't know."
Baekhyun pins him with a very serious look. Then, slowly, his lids flutter shut. His entire body seems to relax all at once, softening beneath Jongdae's hands. "Jongdae," he croaks.
"Yes?"
"Please. I want you to fuck me."
Jongdae exhales and bends over Baekhyun's prone body, his chest adhering to the sweaty skin of Baekhyun's back. He can feel every one of Baekhyun's quick, heaving breaths like this, their bodies moving as one. "Okay," he says, against the shell of Baekhyun's ear, and aligns himself with Baekhyun's entrance.
The first breach of Jongdae's dick alone nearly catapults him right over the edge. Baekhyun's so fucking tight, opens up around him perfectly. It takes him a minute to hear the stream of words tumbling out of Baekhyun's mouth, and then another to realize they aren't just inconsequential asides or unintelligible mumbles-"You don't even know how long I've been waiting for this, since the last time I saw you it's the only thing I've thought about when I'm jacking off-I mean-really-it's the only thing that can get me off anymore, thinking about you fucking me. I can't even wank properly anymore, always have to have two fingers up my ass and it still isn't-it doesn't even-come close to anything-"
"Shut up, Baekhyun," Jongdae says tightly, sheathing himself fully inside Baekhyun's tight heat and struggling to catch his breath before he moves again. "You're going to make me come."
Baekhyun lets out a winded laugh. "That's the goal, isn't it?"
Jongdae clenches his teeth for a moment and moves, slow and careful, pulling himself out and pushing in again, Baekhyun's arching moan covering the squelch of Jongdae's dick sliding back inside him. Every driving thrust pitches him in deeper, until the tops of his thighs are slapping against Baekhyun's ass, a loud thwack accompanying every forward motion. The bed creaks loudly. Jongdae feels the taut pleasure tensing in his legs, rising up his thighs toward his crotch, and pulls back a little. Flips Baekhyun over so he can see his glistening face, his slack mouth, finally lost for words.
Jongdae leans down and kisses him, then-folds Baekhyun's legs over so that his knees are framing his face and fucks into him as fast as he can, feeling the weight of orgasm bearing down on him like a wave. Baekhyun punctuates every thrust with a rattling gasp, a shake of the cuffs around the wrists trapped beneath him. A line of spit trails out of his mouth and onto the pillow under his head. "Please, please," he murmurs against Jongdae's lips, rolling up to meet his dick and clenching hard. His ankles lock behind Jongdae's neck. "Please, you have to let me come, it's too much, I can't-"
Jongdae twists the cock ring off Baekhyun's dick and squeezes the shaft as he empties himself in the condom, fucking Baekhyun through his orgasm, warm jizz dribbling all over his fingers. Jongdae's eyes are squeezed shut but he can feel Baekhyun's mouth pressed against the fuzz of hair at his temple, his labored panting. "Jesus," he croaks, collapsing on top of Baekhyun's soft body. "That was-"
"Hmm," Baekhyun interrupts. Like he's one of the Melee commentators watching a final match at a tournament. "I'd give it a 9 out of 10. For effort."
Jongdae reaches down through his satisfied haze and pinches Baekhyun's stomach. Baekhyun yelps, ankle hitting Jongdae's spine.
"Fine, fine! Ten out of ten! Eleven out of ten! I repent-I swear-"
After Jongdae's cleaned them both off and uncuffed Baekhyun ("I should just keep you in those forever, life would be so much easier for me-" "I hate you."), they shuffle into the living room, both buck naked, and boot up the GameCube. "Post-sex melee battles are the best kind," Baekhyun says happily, chin digging into Jongdae's shoulder. He kicks Jongdae's ass three stocks to none.
fin
Pairing: baekhyun/chen (chanyeol/d.o if you squint)
Rating: nc17
Genre: au, romance, slice-of-life
Warnings: swearing, consensual sex between two minors, rimming
Author: gdgdbaby
Notes: chinguline esports/pro gaming au ft. various other members. basically everyone plays competitive super smash brothers melee! based heavily on this documentary. 6,388 words.
The first time Jongdae sees Baekhyun play is at the TG4 tournament that Minseok Kim hosts the summer of 2008. No one in the Norcal scene even knows who the fuck this kid is, some random user from Los Angeles who had been bragging on the Smashboards about being the best Melee player in the world. His gamer tag was Byuntae. Talked a big game, so Minseok himself had driven down to money-match him in late May before the tournament. He'd come back with a million and one stories about what this kid could do.
In person, he doesn't seem like much. Jongdae sees Byuntae's spidery fingers jiggling away at the controller in front of the old TV in Minseok's living room, a whole crowd of people gathered around him and the guy he's playing, and raises his eyebrows. Byuntae is skinny, even smaller than Jongdae is. Bowl-cut hair, wonky nose, resting bitch face. Mole over his lip, and one on his thumb. He lounges back in his chair without a care in the world and loses the first set to the other guy's Marth by three stocks.
"Don't play Kirby," Jongdae advises helpfully over his shoulder, a little pitying. "He's too low-tier. Just a tip."
Byuntae flicks his gaze up and grins, showing his sharp canines. "Don't worry," he says, glancing at Jongdae's nametag. "FunkyLord92. I'm just getting started."
Jongdae rolls his eyes. Gamers like this were a dime a dozen in the Melee scene, people who tended to talk a lot of shit and never deliver.
Minseok jostles into Jongdae's shoulder as Byuntae selects Jigglypuff. Jongdae poorly disguises a bark of laughter behind his hand and turns.
"You said he was good," he whispers, accusatory.
Minseok shakes his head. "Trust me. You haven't seen anything yet."
Byuntae picks Green Greens as the stage and proceeds to completely wipe the floor with his opponent's ass, using Jigglypuff of all mains. Byuntae's style is erratic and risky-he's off the main map more often than not, but every single hit he lands matters. He wins the second set and the third set without even losing a life. "What the fuck," Jongdae says as the rest of the room erupts into loud cheers at Byuntae's victory, his fingers clenched around the back of Byuntae's chair.
"I told you," Minseok says smugly.
The other guy, gamer tag Choballs, slumps in his seat. "I could've beaten him if I'd gotten more sleep last night," he starts whining, and Minseok cuts him off with a curt look.
"No Kevins," Jongdae says drily.
Byuntae twists his head to frown up at him. "Who's Kevin?"
"Damn," Jongdae says, patting Byuntae on the shoulder. "You've got a lot to learn."
"Kevin," Minseok says, as the milling crowd shifts to his kitchen to watch the next quarterfinal match commence, "was this Melee player from Canada who came to TG3 last summer. Every time he lost he'd make up some stupid excuse, like-"
"Someone was touching my shoulder the whole game," Jongdae supplies, shaking his head.
"I drank too much last night," Minseok continues. "I have a congenital heart disease. Pretty much anything you can think of. Since then, we've called any stupid excuse a Kevin. Every game is equal. If you lose, you lose. And if you win-well." He brandishes the wad of prize money in his hand before shoving it back in his pocket. "You know how it is."
Byuntae jerks his finger at Choballs' retreating back. "So that was a Kevin?"
"Well, I think his real name is Jino," Jongdae says. "But you could say that." He throws the idea around in his head for a minute before stretching his hand out for a firm handshake. Baekhyun looks surprised, and then pleased. "What's yours?"
"Baekhyun," he says, grinning. His hand is warm in Jongdae's. "I'm gonna win the entire tournament with Jigglypuff."
"I'm Jongdae," Jongdae says, eyes flashing. "And we'll see about that."
Baekhyun does end up winning the tournament, and the four hundred dollar cash prize. On the Smashboards, Jigglypuff makes a huge leap on the Melee character tier list, and Baekhyun keeps an obnoxious "#1 SMASH PLAYER IN THE WORLD!!!" in his forum signature for the next four months.
"Hey," Jongdae says, the next time they see each other at a local Gamestop tournament when Jongdae visits family in Los Angeles. "Wanna play doubles?"
Baekhyun sends him a considering look. Jongdae's Pikachu had lost to his Jigglypuff in the finals at TG4, but just barely. Jongdae holds his breath. Finally, Baekhyun claps him on the shoulder. "Let's do this shit," he says, and Jongdae grins.
The East Coast kids start stirring shit the next summer, right before TG5. "They say he's the best in the country," Jongdae comments casually, when Baekhyun comes to stay over at Minseok's so they can practice before the big tournament. "His gamer tag is KoreanDJ."
"More like Korean-Suck-My-Dick," Baekhyun says. It isn't witty at all, but Jongdae knows better than to distract him when he's razing Minseok's Samus to the ground.
"I'm just saying," Jongdae says, flopping back in the couch and kicking his feet onto the coffee table. Minseok sends him a quick warning look before mashing at his controller. "If you really want to be the best, you'll have to beat them, too."
"You mean we have to," Baekhyun says, eyes luminous. Minseok roars in outrage as he loses his last stock and drops his controller on the floor.
"Right," Jongdae breathes. "We have to."
KoreanDJ is ridiculously tall and has a shock of curly orange hair that sits on top of his head like a bird's nest. Despite that, he doesn't seem much older than Baekhyun or Jongdae, given that he's wearing flannel over his Captain America t-shirt and laughs at everything everyone says. He has a short quiet kid in tow with him, big coke-bottle glasses on his face. The other kid doesn't seem to want to be here at all, trapped at the local Y on a summer weekend. "We're signing up last minute for doubles," KoreanDJ says, voice lower and rougher than Jongdae expected. Minseok nods and marks them down on the bracket before getting called away to deal with a couple of Smashers who had clogged the toilet up.
"Who's your main?" Jongdae asks curiously.
KoreanDJ grins. "Money-match me for five bucks and you'll find out."
Jongdae totally owns KoreanDJ's Luigi. Turns out the East Coast isn't as good as they say they are. But it's what happens after the match that gets to him the most: KoreanDJ turns toward Jongdae and proceeds to list out every single one of Jongdae's Pikachu maneuvers back at him, how he'll stick near the edges of the stage and wait for his opponent to come to him, relying too heavily on lightning strikes to finish the job. "So you play pretty defensively, don't you?" he finishes, folding his arms across his chest. "Not a bad strategy."
"What?" Jongdae asks. "How did you-you got all that out of one set?"
KoreanDJ shrugs and grins again. "It's kind of a specialty of mine."
Baekhyun pops up next to Jongdae's shoulder like a ghost. "Wanna money-match me?" he suggests, eyeing KoreanDJ's short friend.
The other guy's eyes go wider than they were before, which Jongdae hadn't thought was actually possible. "Me?" he asks, voice soft and husky. "No, I'm fine."
They wander off. Jongdae shrugs helplessly when Baekhyun sends him a weird look. "Must be something in the New York City water," Baekhyun says. "Come on, let's practice."
Baekhyun and Jongdae work their way up the doubles bracket over the course of the tournament, breezing through the other hopefuls. They beat the previous year's winners before noon the second day, HZTTTAO's Zelda and GuardianAngel's Princess Peach.
Their last match is against KoreanDJ and DKS.
"Is that pronounced Dicks?" Baekhyun snickers.
"You have a problem," Jongdae says, elbowing him. "But really, how did they make it to the final?"
"Who? Oh, KoreanDJ?"
"Yeah. I mean, he sucked when he money-matched me. I thought it was all hype, just some hot air from the East Coast because they were pissed Cali Smashers were better."
"He was also playing with Luigi," Baekhyun points out. "Whatever. It doesn't matter. Go play your singles match." The corner of his mouth jumps. "I'll be waiting for you at the top of the winner's bracket."
"Yeah, yeah," Jongdae says. "Go eat a dick."
Except Jongdae gets bumped to the loser's bracket during the next round of singles because of KoreanDJ's quiet friend. DKS's Jigglypuff is as different from Baekhyun's as night is from day. Baekhyun is constantly on the offensive, always looking for openings, and risky as hell when his character is off the stage. In contrast, DKS plays even more defensively than Jongdae does, almost a sterile, clinical style that barely leaves any openings for Jongdae to use. He loses two sets to one. DKS offers his hand out to shake after the final set.
"I hope you're ready," Jongdae says, dropping by Baekhyun's singles match on the second story of Minseok's house. "These East Coast guys are no joke."
Baekhyun finishes his opponent off and sends him a strange look. "What's up? I've never seen you this worried before."
"You'll see."
"I hate this guy," Baekhyun announces, the minute DKS selects Jigglypuff on the setup screen.
DKS sends him a vaguely alarmed look from the seat next to KoreanDJ.
"There can only be one," Jongdae intones, and KoreanDJ chuckles.
"Let's have a good game, guys," Minseok says. "You can start at any time."
It's one of the most frantic matches Jongdae has ever played. It's like Baekhyun's out to prove something because of the Jigglypuff ditto, and because of his agitation, he takes even riskier chances throughout the match, springing wildly off the stage to hack DKS and KoreanDJ out. Ever since Jongdae first saw him play, Baekhyun has always had some type of unholy luck, an innate understanding of the physics of Melee, and his fingers move at the speed of light, probably, so he comes out on top more often than not. Still, there are some heart-stopping moments when both teams are neck and neck and Baekhyun pulls something out of his ass, and it means Jongdae has to have his back at all times. Fortunately, he's had a lot of practice over the past year of playing with Baekhyun to adapt to the situation.
KoreanDJ's main turns out to be Marth. "Fourteen-year-old me thought he was the most handsome character, like myself in real life," he explains, after he and DKS lose the second set by a hair. "It helps that he's a badass in-game."
"Yeah," DKS says. "Say that the next time Jigglypuff sings his ass off the stage."
That startles a laugh out of Jongdae, who's running on nerves after playing so much Smash for the past 40 hours. Everyone's voices seem a little too loud every time he goes on this kind of tear, and there's an awful cramp in his hand. He bets the statistics for Smashers who develop carpal tunnel syndrome are ridiculous.
Baekhyun's head is warm and heavy when it lands on his shoulder briefly. "Three more matches," he says in Jongdae's ear, and Jongdae swallows and nods. "Hey. I need you."
"You got it," Jongdae says. He rubs a cramp out with his thumb and squares his shoulders. "Let's go."
When Jongdae really gets in the zone, it's like everything else in the world melts away. The aching tension in his shoulders, the rising and falling murmur of the crowd gathered to watch the final match behind him, the rumbling in his stomach after not having eaten more than a handful of chips and a tangerine in the past two days. All of that is gone. There's nothing but the controller in his hands and the characters moving across the 2D stage, his eyesight blurring a little even as he focuses, Pikachu plugging in all the defensive holes behind Baekhyun's pink Jigglypuff and edging in some nasty shots on KoreanDJ's Marth to boot.
They win the third set. KoreanDJ and DKS take the fourth, and then it's down to the last one, Baekhyun's sweat trickling down the side of his face, his fingers settling lightly on Jongdae's knee for a brief moment before they're clutched around his controller again, eyes shining with the spark of a challenge.
A quiet hush settles over the entire house as the last set commences. Baekhyun's everywhere at once, Jigglypuff cartwheeling through the sky as the Green Greens music starts up in stark contrast to the gravitas of the situation. Jongdae's thumb slips a little and he loses a stock when Marth brings his sword down and knocks him off the stage. The tree starts blowing half a second later and Baekhyun avenges his lost life.
Sweat drips into Jongdae's eyes. He blinks around it and keeps forging on. Baekhyun lets out a quiet huff next to him and wave dashes ahead, punts DKS's Jigglypuff off the screen.
Jongdae's breath catches in the back of his throat and holds. He gets sent out before Baekhyun does, but so does KoreanDJ-and then it's two Jigglypuffs duking it out on Green Greens, one brash and quick and loud, and the other still and quiet.
Jongdae's only played DKS twice, once when he lost the first time and then again in the loser's bracket, but he can tell Baekhyun's style of play wears him down. As if Baekhyun has so many holes in his defense that DKS doesn't even know where to start, and in the split second he uses to decide, Baekhyun's already bearing down on him like the hammer of God. Or King Dididi's. With one stock left each, DKS tries to kick Baekhyun off the stage for the third time and misses. Baekhyun's Jigglypuff edgehogs for two seconds and then flips up to punch DKS's, 109%, 116%, 129%-and-
GAME. The entire house erupts into noise around him, the sound crashing through Jongdae's head like water broken through a dam, and then Baekhyun's grabbing his shoulders and shakes him, roaring out his victory. Jongdae laughs helplessly, torso like jelly, flopping back and forth with Baekhyun's every move. "We're number one in the world," he yells, so excited his eyes look like they're about to pop out of their sockets.
"In America, more like," Jongdae hears DKS say drily behind them, but Baekhyun ignores it. He leans forward and smacks a resounding kiss on Jongdae's mouth before turning and gladhanding all the spectators surging around them.
They all go out to eat on Minseok's dime after the tournament is over, a hundred sweaty, tired gamers piling into the closest McDonald's down the street at midnight on Sunday. KoreanDJ, real name Chanyeol, had won singles by a sliver of a margin, with Byuntae coming in second. "You were good," Baekhyun says grudgingly around a mouthful of chicken nugget. "We'll get it back next year, though, so you better watch out."
DKS, real name Kyungsoo, glances distastefully at the flecks of chicken spraying out of Baekhyun's mouth. "You were good, too," Chanyeol says, earnest as ever. He brandishes a crisp French fry at Baekhyun's face. "I don't know how you do the stuff you do with that Jigglypuff, it's kind of insane."
Baekhyun sends him a gratified look. Kyungsoo trades glances with Jongdae over his shoulder and snorts when Jongdae makes a face.
Baekhyun spends the night at Jongdae's house before he has to drive back down to Los Angeles in the morning. In the bathroom, he's still riding the high of the win, brushing his teeth while grooving to We Are The Champions blasting through Jongdae's iPod speakers.
"Hey," Jongdae says later, when he's lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. He puts a hand to his mouth and runs the tip of his index finger over his lower lip. "Earlier. After we won. Was that-was that like a Fredo kiss or something?" He hazards a glance down at the floor.
Baekhyun turns over in his sleeping bag and stares up at him, eyes shining. "What?"
"You kissed me," Jongdae says, feeling a bit like an idiot. Something warm bubbles up from his stomach and expands in his chest. "I just-I don't-"
"You're stupid," Baekhyun cuts in. He scrambles out of his sleeping bag, damp hair hanging in his eyes, and comes to stand at the edge of Jongdae's bed, looming over him. Some time in the past year Baekhyun's filled out, shoulders broader than Jongdae's now. His nose is a little less wonky. He purses his lips, like he's considering something. Then, he bends down carefully and kisses Jongdae again.
The angle's pretty awkward. Jongdae props himself up on a hand and reaches up on instinct to palm the back of Baekhyun's neck, gasping when Baekhyun shivers and slides his tongue into Jongdae's mouth. The tip of it runs over the ridge behind his teeth, tickles the roof of his mouth, and Jongdae feels his toes curl into his sheets.
"Scoot over," Baekhyun says, muffled, and Jongdae makes room for him, like he had when they first met, like he does in every doubles match they play together, hand sliding down to the flat of Baekhyun's back and curling loosely there.
"Shit," Jongdae says, pulling back to breathe.
Baekhyun regards him quietly for a second. "Thanks," he says, and Jongdae narrows his eyes.
"What for?"
"I dunno," he says, glancing away, and Jongdae is amazed to realize that Baekhyun's nervous. It's the first time he's ever seen him act remotely insecure about anything. It's kind of cute. And kind of refreshing for someone like Baekhyun, who's all big talk and big bluster and big action. To see him fiddling with his lower lip between his teeth for wont of something to say.
"Cat got your tongue?" Jongdae says, grinning.
Baekhyun lets out a huff of laughter. "Technically," he says, scooting closer, breathing the same air as Jongdae's again, their mouths half an inch apart, "yes."
In the morning, Jongdae helps Baekhyun carry his tiny suitcase out to his beatup old Corolla. It's a five and a half hour drive back down to Los Angeles. Baekhyun's got a huge box of Goldfish to keep him company for the ride.
"Come visit soon," he says, leaning against the passenger's side door when all his stuff is packed up and ready to go. "We have to keep our practice up, you know. Especially if I want to totally demolish Chanyeol at the next tournament. And keep our doubles record intact."
"You sure you don't have any ulterior motives?" Jongdae challenges, thinking about the previous night, Baekhyun's mouth on his neck, his harsh breathing when Jongdae had been adventurous and stuck his hand down Baekhyun's boxers.
Baekhyun laughs. "Yeah, well. That too."
The next time Jongdae drives down to Los Angeles is during fall break their senior year. Baekhyun's parents are gracious and welcoming and give him Baekhyun's brother's old room, the one with a king-sized bed and big bay windows that face the lawn. "They didn't even let me move in after my brother went to college," Baekhyun grouses, mock hurt laced through his voice. "I can't believe you like him better than me, your own son." He makes an irritated noise when Jongdae slings an arm over his shoulder.
Jongdae doesn't end up spending much time in Baekbeom's room anyway. They play Smash in the living room the entire first weekend, steadily working their way through a jumbo box of pepperoni hot pockets and trading friendly insults over their controllers. Baekhyun's getting better with Fox and Falcon. "Are you trying to phase Jigglypuff out?" Jongdae asks curiously, after he soundly whoops Baekhyun's ass in a Pikachu ditto.
Baekhyun shrugs. He props his feet up on a cabinet and leans back on two legs of his chair. "After that match against DKS, it just feels weird." He makes a face.
"Is this jealousy?"
"No," Baekhyun snaps, and nearly falls backward when he jerks in his chair. He slides a hand through his hair and worries his lower lip between his teeth. Jongdae wants so badly to kiss him, but they're out in the open and Baekhyun's parents are milling around the kitchen making dinner for them. "I just think branching out could be good for us."
Jongdae snorts. "I'm still the best Pikachu main. And you're still the best Jigglypuff main, no one can take that away from you."
The corner of Baekhyun's mouth lifts. "Gross. You going soft on me?"
Jongdae makes a face. "Wow. If this is how you're going to react every time, that's the last time I ever say anything nice about you."
"Sorry, I meant-I'm so touched," Baekhyun says, pressing a dramatic hand to his chest. He ducks away, laughing, when Jongdae kicks the leg of his chair.
Jongdae hasn't been to Socal that often, usually stays up in SanFran and hangs out with friends from school, so he appreciates it when Baekhyun drags him out of the house on Monday morning. There's only so much Smash they can play before one or both of them starts going cross-eyed.
Outside of semi-professional gaming and the occasional big tournament, Baekhyun seems to be into fairly normal teenage dude things like music and movies. And eating. For lunch on Tuesday, Jongdae drives the two of them to In-N-Out, and Baekhyun makes the disastrous decision of challenging Jongdae to see who can eat the most burgers. Jongdae's pretty sure he's going to puke forever after it's over, his stomach swollen and heavy like a rock, but he edges Baekhyun out with seven double-doubles to Baekhyun's six.
"What do I get for winning?" Jongdae groans, doubled over against the wheel after they've driven back to Baekhyun's house.
Baekhyun waves a careless hand in the air, even as his face goes a little green and he jams a palm over his mouth. "I'll think of something. First, I have to try not to explode."
The prize, to Jongdae's mild mortification, turns out to be a visit to an out-of-the-way sex shop on Thursday. Baekhyun walks in brandishing his fake ID and trades high fives with the guy behind the counter, who has the prettiest face that Jongdae's seen on a dude and introduces himself as Lu Han. "Nice to meet you, Jongdae," he says, eyes twinkling. Jongdae didn't know real life eyes actually did that. Lu Han could be a live action Princess Peach with the right wig, Jongdae thinks, and then shakes the thought out of his head with alarm. "I'd recommend the cock rings, they're on sale for half off until the end of the month."
"Eurk," Jongdae says. Baekhyun's chuckling as he steers him away.
They halt in front of the dildo aisle. The dildo aisle, Jongdae thinks a little wildly. He isn't an innocent by any stretch of the imagination, has watched his fair share of porn, the little hidden folder on his laptop and everything, but something about the suddenness of this is getting to him. He's not even sure what he and Baekhyun are, if they're dating, if they're friends with benefits, if they're still just Smash doubles partners who are, when the occasion arises, open to fooling around with one another. They hadn't exactly talked about it the last time Jongdae saw him, after TG5. For all Jongdae knew, Baekhyun was just being an asshole as usual and hadn't thought anything of what they'd done. He certainly hadn't mentioned it all week.
"Pick anything you like," Baekhyun says, cool as a cucumber, cutting through Jongdae's increasingly chaotic thoughts like a knife. Jongdae jumps back guiltily, and holds a hand against his neck, scratching at his nape.
"What do you mean?" It comes out in a gentle wheeze. Jongdae coughs twice, tries to clear the sudden scratchiness from his throat. Baekhyun's still smiling, almost fond, and Jongdae feels something settle in his chest, tight and tense. "I mean, what do you mean by that? Pick anything I like-for me?"
Baekhyun's smile widens. He hooks an arm through Jongdae's and pulls him forward, hand settling at the small of Jongdae's back, like he's an automobile salesman trying to push a million dollar car. "Pick anything you'd like," Baekhyun clarifies, "to use on me."
The huge sign in front of him says COCK RINGS: 50% OFF in rainbow marker and an overabundance of glitter. Jongdae can barely even focus on it because his stomach's just dropped out of his body and is now chilling near his feet. His mouth is so dry it tastes like cardboard.
He looks down the aisle and thinks about Baekhyun with one of the cock rings on-a vibrator stuck up his ass while Jongdae swiped his tongue across the tip of Baekhyun's cock, just shallow enough to watch him squirm-and feels his pants tighten.
"Anything?" Jongdae repeats. He doesn't know what kind of expression he's wearing, but Baekhyun sees it and swallows, his arm tightening around Jongdae's.
"Anything," Baekhyun says.
In the background, Lu Han says, "I really, really recommend the cock rings."
The extent of Baekhyun's planning for tonight becomes clear when they pull back up to his house and his parents are on their way out to visit Baekbeom, who lives in Vegas with his wife. "Stay safe, have fun, don't wreck anything in the house," Baekhyun's mom rattles off before she ducks back into the car. His dad guns the engine and zooms off.
"So we have the house to ourselves," Jongdae says, stating the obvious because he has nothing more appropriate to say. He glances down at the inconspicuous bag in his hand and then up at Baekhyun again. He's framed by the backlight of the bathroom, shining forth like a halo around his head. Jongdae would make some cheesy video game reference in his head but he finds there's a weird lump in his throat, like the one that had clogged it up when he'd paid at Lu Han's shop earlier. It's stupid, really. This is Baekhyun. He's never had a problem talking out of his ass around him before, and it shouldn't be different now, even if he had taken him to an adult sex toy shop. And basically propositioned him. And was now in a house with him, alone.
Baekhyun holds his stare for a moment and then steps away, toward the bathroom. "I'm taking a shower," he says casually. "Don't wait up."
Jongdae drops the plastic bag in his suitcase and flops back on Baekhyun's bed. It smells like laundry detergent and fabric softener and Pantene Pro-V, and a little bit like sweat, salty and pervasive, which are all scents Jongdae has come to associate with Baekhyun since the first time he met him. There's a model figurine of Jigglypuff sitting on Baekhyun's bookshelf, from a tournament they'd gone to together the last time Jongdae had been in Los Angeles. At TG4, when Minseok was still running the tournaments out of his own house and let everyone and their mother crash at his place, Jongdae remembers how Baekhyun had looked at half past midnight after the final match, licking his finger and counting all four hundred dollars of his winnings out while people crowded around him on Minseok's couch.
Some things are different now, but others are exactly the same: the tiny mole above Baekhyun's lip, the one inside his left ear, the one on his thumb that people on the SmashBoards always said was good luck. The Hand of God, or whatever. It's all painfully familiar. The way Baekhyun's lashes catch the light when he looks down. Sweat trickling down his temple when he was playing an opponent that could match him. His slender fingers, bent delicately at the joints, and how they had looked around Jongdae's cock-
Baekhyun pushes into his room, fresh-faced, cheeks scrubbed red from his shower. There's only a towel around his waist; his hands are in his hair, straining it dry. "Your bathroom," he says, tossing a dry towel at him.
Jongdae forcibly tears his gaze away from the water running down Baekhyun's chest and scurries into the bathroom. The hot water from the shower head does nothing to curb the bubbling in his stomach, only manages to make him more agitated. He almost slips in the tub after he soaps up, but manages to grab onto one of the water knobs before he crashes all the way down and concusses himself.
It's only until he's stepped out of the shower, steam billowing around him, that he realizes he forgot to bring a change of clothes in. The towel Baekhyun handed him is, of course, barely large enough to wrap once around his waist. That fucker. Jongdae shakes the water out of his hair and brushes his teeth on double time, feeling like he's about to leap out of his skin.
Jongdae pauses outside the door of Baekhyun's bedroom, shifting from foot to foot. He leans in close to the wood. He hears a muffled thump, and then a quiet squeaking noise.
When he finally pushes the door open, Baekhyun's on all fours on his bed, spine curved so that his chest is pressed into the mattress, two fingers crooked up his ass. Jongdae feels all the breath leave him as Baekhyun's fingers slide deeper and a loud moan scratches it way out of Baekhyun's mouth, shoots right to Jongdae's dick like it's hotwired to react every time.
He stands rooted to the carpet as Baekhyun rocks back into his own hand, erection already sticking out from his damp pubic hair and curving up toward the gentle swell of his stomach. Jongdae's mouth waters a little.
"Are you just going to watch all night, or what?" Baekhyun gasps. "Fuck, Jongdae. Come over here already. I've been waiting for this all week. Don't make me wait more."
Jongdae's throat works, Adam's apple corking his esophagus, and lets the door snap shut behind him. He drops the towel around his waist and moves toward the bed in a daze. In that time, Baekhyun's fit a third finger inside himself. The muscles in his back go slack as his head tips forward into the pillows. His next moan is muffled by a mouthful of fabric.
"Gonna use any of the new shit you got today?" Baekhyun asks, and Jongdae remembers, with a sudden jolt, the plastic bag in his suitcase. He drifts over and fishes it back out, peers inside. Selects the cock ring Lu Han had managed to press on him, some sort of simple blindfold, and a pair of fluffy handcuffs. When he gets to the bed again, Baekhyun's regarding him quietly over his shoulder, damp bangs sticking to his forehead, eyes dark with pupil. "Good choices," he says, and Jongdae's mouth lifts in answer to the big grin on Baekhyun's face.
"You are such a little shit, you know that?" Jongdae says. The mattress dips as he climbs onto the bed, knees dipping into the soft sheets. He finally reaches out and smoothes a hand down Baekhyun's thigh. Swallows when Baekhyun leans into it, still finger-fucking himself. "Take your hand out," he continues firmly, and grabs Baekhyun by the hips to still him. "I wanna-I want to try something."
"What is it?" Baekhyun asks curiously, attempting to follow the trajectory of Jongdae's gaze as he shifts lower.
"I dunno," he says. He doesn't want to think about it too much. He's already done enough thinking. Now, he just wants to do something. "I think I saw it in a porno once," he continues, and then he leans down and takes the pink pucker of Baekhyun's asshole into his mouth.
The entire line of Baekhyun's body goes tense beneath his hands. Baekhyun lets out this little wrecked cry, a tiny lilting thing. When the tip of Jongdae's tongue breaches the rim, the sound crescendos into a series of ah-ah-ahs as Baekhyun fucks himself on Jongdae's mouth, clenching down on tongue. He tastes sweet, like the lube he'd slathered all over his hand, and his body is so warm. Jongdae wonders what it would feel like to sink his erection into that heat and sucks on Baekhyun's asshole so hard that Baekhyun wails into his pillow, hand dropping between his legs to press against his erection.
"No," Jongdae says, rising, and lifts the handcuffs off the bed. He grabs Baekhyun's bony wrist and cuffs one, then the other, so his delicate fingers are clasped against the small of his back. Baekhyun lets out a low groan and tries to rut into the mattress, but Jongdae hauls him up by the hips and holds him there, ass stuck in the air, face flushed and sweaty and half-buried in his pillow.
Baekhyun twists his neck and stares back at Jongdae again, eyes pleading. His lips are parted and his chest is heaving with breath. Jongdae wipes his mouth with his hand and grabs the handy condom sitting on Baekhyun's bedside table next to his bottle of lube, rolls it on himself with an elastic pop. "Shit," Baekhyun says, legs thrashing a little when Jongdae curves his body over Baekhyun's and slides the cock ring over his swollen dick. "Come on, Jongdae, can you just-"
"Just what?" Jongdae asks, grinning. All his tension has bled away. He finds he's enjoying himself immensely, seeing Baekhyun all trussed up like this for him, totally helpless. For all Baekhyun's big talk, Jongdae had him at his complete and utter mercy in this moment. Jongdae's pretty sure it isn't something a lot of people can say they've experienced before. All the other questions and insecurities seem to melt away in the face of this, this monumental fact, that Baekhyun would let Jongdae do this to him. "You have to ask nicely, Baekhyun. I know you can do it."
"God, fuck you," Baekhyun mutters. He tries to thrust down into the bed again but Jongdae's grip tightens, keeps his cock bobbing in the air, hard and untouched.
"I don't think so," Jongdae says, tisking. His thumb runs over one of the dimples in Baekhyun's lower back, dips into the crevice. "What is it that you want? You have to tell me, or else I won't know."
Baekhyun pins him with a very serious look. Then, slowly, his lids flutter shut. His entire body seems to relax all at once, softening beneath Jongdae's hands. "Jongdae," he croaks.
"Yes?"
"Please. I want you to fuck me."
Jongdae exhales and bends over Baekhyun's prone body, his chest adhering to the sweaty skin of Baekhyun's back. He can feel every one of Baekhyun's quick, heaving breaths like this, their bodies moving as one. "Okay," he says, against the shell of Baekhyun's ear, and aligns himself with Baekhyun's entrance.
The first breach of Jongdae's dick alone nearly catapults him right over the edge. Baekhyun's so fucking tight, opens up around him perfectly. It takes him a minute to hear the stream of words tumbling out of Baekhyun's mouth, and then another to realize they aren't just inconsequential asides or unintelligible mumbles-"You don't even know how long I've been waiting for this, since the last time I saw you it's the only thing I've thought about when I'm jacking off-I mean-really-it's the only thing that can get me off anymore, thinking about you fucking me. I can't even wank properly anymore, always have to have two fingers up my ass and it still isn't-it doesn't even-come close to anything-"
"Shut up, Baekhyun," Jongdae says tightly, sheathing himself fully inside Baekhyun's tight heat and struggling to catch his breath before he moves again. "You're going to make me come."
Baekhyun lets out a winded laugh. "That's the goal, isn't it?"
Jongdae clenches his teeth for a moment and moves, slow and careful, pulling himself out and pushing in again, Baekhyun's arching moan covering the squelch of Jongdae's dick sliding back inside him. Every driving thrust pitches him in deeper, until the tops of his thighs are slapping against Baekhyun's ass, a loud thwack accompanying every forward motion. The bed creaks loudly. Jongdae feels the taut pleasure tensing in his legs, rising up his thighs toward his crotch, and pulls back a little. Flips Baekhyun over so he can see his glistening face, his slack mouth, finally lost for words.
Jongdae leans down and kisses him, then-folds Baekhyun's legs over so that his knees are framing his face and fucks into him as fast as he can, feeling the weight of orgasm bearing down on him like a wave. Baekhyun punctuates every thrust with a rattling gasp, a shake of the cuffs around the wrists trapped beneath him. A line of spit trails out of his mouth and onto the pillow under his head. "Please, please," he murmurs against Jongdae's lips, rolling up to meet his dick and clenching hard. His ankles lock behind Jongdae's neck. "Please, you have to let me come, it's too much, I can't-"
Jongdae twists the cock ring off Baekhyun's dick and squeezes the shaft as he empties himself in the condom, fucking Baekhyun through his orgasm, warm jizz dribbling all over his fingers. Jongdae's eyes are squeezed shut but he can feel Baekhyun's mouth pressed against the fuzz of hair at his temple, his labored panting. "Jesus," he croaks, collapsing on top of Baekhyun's soft body. "That was-"
"Hmm," Baekhyun interrupts. Like he's one of the Melee commentators watching a final match at a tournament. "I'd give it a 9 out of 10. For effort."
Jongdae reaches down through his satisfied haze and pinches Baekhyun's stomach. Baekhyun yelps, ankle hitting Jongdae's spine.
"Fine, fine! Ten out of ten! Eleven out of ten! I repent-I swear-"
After Jongdae's cleaned them both off and uncuffed Baekhyun ("I should just keep you in those forever, life would be so much easier for me-" "I hate you."), they shuffle into the living room, both buck naked, and boot up the GameCube. "Post-sex melee battles are the best kind," Baekhyun says happily, chin digging into Jongdae's shoulder. He kicks Jongdae's ass three stocks to none.
fin