we are tonight ((2/2))
title: we are tonight
pairing: baekhyun/chanyeol
rating: nc1769
length: 16.2k
warning: rly shotty writing and lots of bad porn. lots.
summary: over the course of the week, baekhyun ends up on chanyeol’s cock more often than he’d like to admit. not that they’re exclusive.
Baekhyun awakes to the sound of a ringtone, and he groggily turns over, hand fumbling for the phone on the nightstand.
“Hngh?” Baekhyun answers, mind still disorientated.
“Chanyeol, are we still on for tonight~” A female’s voice comes over the line, and Baekhyun shakes himself out of his sleep-driven stupor.
“Wait, who is this?”
“Jungmi. Who are you?” Her tone comes off accusatory and confused, and Baekhyun hastily ends the call, taking one glance at the phone before realizing it isn’t his. He slowly puts it back in place, jumping nearly five feet in the air when it buzzes again and a text message flashes across the screen. Baekhyun averts his gaze as best as he can, slipping out of the bed and grabbing the first piece of clothing he sees off the floor. He knows Chanyeol’s in the kitchen, the telltale sound of sizzling crawling through the gap between the door and wall.
He shuffles out of the bedroom, walking into the kitchen with nerves at a high as he seats himself at the counter. The thought of Chanyeol sleeping with anyone else shouldn’t faze him the slightest; they’re not exclusive, but he’s bothered and he doesn’t know why.
“Morning babe,” Chanyeol smiles wide, and Baekhyun shifts back into character enough to give him his usual eye roll, grabbing the fork and knife off the table before cutting into the egg Chanyeol slides onto the plate. He stuffs his mouth on the first bite, chewing noisily as he thinks over the phone call. He isn’t being unexpectedly quiet, but Chanyeol’s eyebrows furrow slightly, “Hey Byun, you okay?”
Baekhyun nods automatically, swallowing with a large gulp as he licks over his lips, “Yeah, I’m fine.” He manages a quick smile that he always uses for Chanyeol’s benefit (because Baekhyun isn’t an asshole to him one hundred percent of the time), which doesn’t seem to appease the younger’s worries.
They’re both interrupted by the tinkling of a bell, and Baekhyun looks down to see a kitten rubbing itself against his feet, meowing as it looks up at him.
“Oh my gosh, you got a kitty!” Baekhyun exclaims, shuffling off the stool to crouch down. The kitten rubs its head into the curve of Baekhyun’s palm, and he giggles, petting its soft fur.
“Uh, yeah,” Chanyeol smiles, a hand coming up to scratch at the back of his head. “Hey, is this my shirt?” He pulls at the material, and Baekhyun looks down at the larger than normal shirt he’s got on.
“Oh right, sorry. I just picked up the first thing I saw.”
Chanyeol shakes his head, about to reply, “No it’s okay, keep it,” but then Baekhyun’s opening his mouth again.
“Have you always had a cat?” He asks, eyes never straying from the kitten as he strokes under its chin. They don’t fuck as often at Chanyeol’s place, so Baekhyun’s never really taken the time to wander around it, but he’s sure he would have noticed a cat before.
“Nope, she’s a stray - found her on the fire escape actually a few days ago.”
Baekhyun’s heart swells again, and not for the first time do the corners of his mouth turn up at how much Chanyeol can surprise him. It’s not like he believed Chanyeol was a complete asshole with disregard for anyone else’s feelings (okay, Baekhyun admits, he might, might have thought that previously, in the past) but the idea of Chanyeol taking in a stray does something to twist at his heart, stretching it out and curling it up all at the same time.
Baekhyun’s falling, and he doesn’t even know it.
“What’s her name?”
“Haven’t thought of one yet,” Chanyeol muses, “so I just call her Penguin.”
“Penguin?” Baekhyun laughs, tilting his head as he gazes at the kitten.
“Yeah, because she’s black and white,” Chanyeol sits himself down, legs outstretched as he drapes his fingers across the kitten’s eyes, laughing softly when she goes on her hind legs to grab at his hand.
“I think Panda suits her more. You know, because the black spots are sort of over her eyes,” Baekhyun sticks a finger out, drawing two circles in the air to point them out. The kitten’s attention drifts back to Baekhyun as she leaps into his lap, pawing at his chest, and Chanyeol’s gaze lingers a little too long on how Baekhyun’s eyes light up to reply straightaway.
“Baekhyun? Baekhyun!” Jongdae snaps his fingers in front of the elder’s face, trying to shake him out of whatever stupor he’s in.
“Wha-what?” Baekhyun blinks, waving Jongdae’s hand away as he tries to orientate himself. He’s drifted off again, this time in the middle of takeout dinner, and it’s not the usual couple-of-seconds thought that’s stolen his attention. He’s practically missed their entire conversation. The phone call was a few days but it’s still worrying him. His conversation with Chanyeol has remained silent on both ends, and Baekhyun isn’t brave enough to ask for some stress-relieving sex at the moment. He’s too on end, high-wired and nerves frazzled at the thought of Chanyeol in bed with someone else, both their limbs entangled and caught up in one another.
“Do you want to come out with us tomorrow? Jongdae wants to check out this new club on the other side of town,” Lu Han asks, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “Or do you already have plans with Chanyeol’s dick?”
Baekhyun chooses to flip him off before grabbing hold of his box and chopsticks and sifting through the noodles for the meat, “Yeah sure, I’ll come with.”
Baekhyun finds himself wishing he actually had made a prior booty call with Chanyeol, even if he had to face Lu Han and Jongdae’s teasing. The club scene isn’t his thing anymore, and he’s finding it hard to actually talk, let alone move around. There are people everywhere, bodies gyrating and sweat on every patch of their skin.
It’s all just unhygienic in Baekhyun’s eyes.
Disgruntledly, he worms his way through the crowd, finding Jongdae sipping a beer at the bar.
“Where’s Lu Han?” Baekhyun all but shouts, and Jongdae has to lean in to hear him properly. He shrugs, and Baekhyun sees him mouth somewhere. Very helpful. “Alright then, I’m going to go to the bathroom.”
Jongdae nods distractedly, attention more focused on the guy a couple of seats down. He sends him a wink, and Baekhyun shakes his head. Typical. He gives Jongdae an encouraging pat on the back before he’s taking a deep breath, readying himself to push through the mass, the need to vacate his bladder increasing steadily.
The toilets aren’t as congested as he thinks, and Baekhyun gets back to the bar with no serious damage (drink spillage or otherwise) done to his clothes. He orders himself a drink to bide the time, downing it (and its two successors) pretty rapidly. He just wants to forget about exams, forget he ever picked up Chanyeol’s phone so he wouldn’t have to know about his other hook-ups.
The alcohol doesn’t take much time to kick in, and soon Baekhyun is on the dance floor, Lu Han and Jongdae forgotten as he grinds up against some stranger. It’s rare when either Lu Han or Jongdae aren’t there to keep tabs on him, because Baekhyun is definitely not the poster child for Handling One’s Liquor. He can feel warm hands on his hips and a pair of lips pressed to the side of his neck, tracking open-mouthed kisses across his skin.
Baekhyun isn’t concentrating, isn’t thinking about anything but the feel of this guy around him, and he cranes his head back, reaching up an arm to pull the stranger down. Their lips meet, his tongue already out and licking into Baekhyun’s mouth, and the latter can’t help but reciprocate, beginning to rotate his hips again as they move to the music, lips locked and limbs tangled.
But Baekhyun wants more.
The male seems to get the hint, sliding a hand down to cup over Baekhyun’s crotch, and Baekhyun drops his head back, breath hitching.
“Shall we take this somewhere else?” the husky voice rings clear in his ears, and Baekhyun’s about to nod when someone else is answering for him, except he knows this voice, very well, and they’re saying the exact opposite.
“How about you keep your hands off him?”
Baekhyun doesn’t even have time to glance back at the confused and irritated look on the male’s face before Chanyeol’s yanking him away to a somewhat open spot further in the club.
“Park?” Baekhyun quizzically tilts his head, “What are you doing here?”
“Byun, are you drunk?” Chanyeol bends down to eye level, hands gripping onto his shoulders.
Baekhyun pouts, shaking his head, “No! I’m happy.”
“You’re fucking dru-“
Baekhyun doesn’t care much for Chanyeol’s talk, choosing to occupy his mouth another way by pulling him down into a kiss. He’s forgotten about the phone call, the female’s voice, everything. The only thing that matters is feeling Chanyeol against him, because he’s craving sex and Chanyeol is the one he knows who can fill that need. Chanyeol’s words get muffled and Baekhyun grins, deepening the kiss as he opens his mouth more to lick over Chanyeol’s teeth.
“W-wait, Baek, stop,” Chanyeol pulls away, but Baekhyun doesn’t listen, choosing to spin around, pressing his back to Chanyeol’s front as he starts to move.
“I want to dance,” Baekhyun states, grabbing onto Chanyeol’s hands to move them to his hips. “Don’t you want to dance with me, Park?”
“Byun, stop-“
“Are you going to fuck me, Park?” Baekhyun giggles, swaying his hips against Chanyeol’s.
“Byun, what are you-fuck.” Chanyeol grits his teeth. Baekhyun is pushing back against his crotch, his ass feeling so round and perfect against his hardening dick, and he can’t help the flow of blood rushing down to his cock.
“Am I turning you on?” Baekhyun asks, fluttering his eyelashes as he looks back at him with a smirk, and Chanyeol has to swallow hard.
“Fucking damn it,” Chanyeol mutters under his breath, before he’s grabbing Baekhyun’s hand that’s wandering down to the forming tent in his pants, tightening his grip around his wrist. “I didn’t want to do this.”
Chanyeol pulls him further into the thronging crowd, and Baekhyun lets himself be tugged along, music ringing loud in his ears as the lights of the club flash by him, his sight blurring into a mass of colours and sounds.
The next thing he knows, he’s being slammed into the wall of the bathroom, Chanyeol flicking the lock of the door shut despite the hammering and cries of, “Hey fucker! Open the damn door!” from a couple of males outside. He’s too busy sucking the very breath out of Baekhyun before pushing the elder to his knees, hastily unbuttoning his pants to take out his cock.
It’s red and already leaking, a pearl of precome at the tip, and he drags the head across Baekhyun’s cheek.
“Fuck, you want this, don’t you?” Chanyeol asks, the sight of Baekhyun’s mouth practically watering for his cock already enough to make his dick stiffen even more. His tone is harsh, and he doesn’t waste any time shoving his dick into Baekhyun’s open mouth.
The elder takes it very appreciatively, sucking with enough enthusiasm to almost deep throat him.
“Fuck, you look like such a whore for me right now,” Chanyeol breathes, his hand brushing stray hairs off Baekhyun’s forehead as he encourages him forward, “such a needy whore.”
If anything, Chanyeol’s words spur Baekhyun on, and he hollows his cheeks, going all the way down so his nose brushes against the small patch of hair at the base. He likes the way his lips stretch, the slick feel of Chanyeol sliding into his mouth as he starts to slowly thrust in.
It’s an unspoken question that lies between them when Baekhyun looks up and their eyes meet, Chanyeol’s eyebrow raised as if to ask if he’s sure. Baekhyun slightly nods, and Chanyeol starts to rock his hips more, letting his cock brush harder against the back of the elder’s throat.
Chanyeol works up his pace; holding Baekhyun’s head steady as he snaps his hips forward, the bathroom filling with the sounds of Baekhyun choking. There are tears in the corners of his eyes, and his grip tightens on the back of Chanyeol’s thighs, signs that he wants it more, faster and harder.
“Your mouth is so pretty, so pretty to be fucked,” Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun feels so hard and strained in his pants, trying to grind down against the floor for friction of some sort. “Look at you, being such a cockslut. I bet you wanted that guy’s dick too, didn’t you?” Chanyeol grits out, and he yanks Baekhyun by his hair, pulling him off as the elder starts to cough.
Baekhyun gets pulled up to his feet and spun around quickly, cheek pressed up against the cold tile as Chanyeol wrenches at his pants, nearly tearing them off in effort to get to Baekhyun’s bare ass.
“You’re a fucking slut,” is whispered in Baekhyun’s ear, and he mewls at the words, how something like this wouldn't normally turn him on, but right now, somehow because it’s Chanyeol, and Chanyeol’s voice talking dirty to him, he’s harder than ever. He desperately wants to touch himself, but Chanyeol is keeping him from humping at the wall with forceful hands on either side of his hips.
“No, you’re not going to come, not until I say so,” Chanyeol says against his ear, pressing up against him so Baekhyun can feel every inch of him. “Did you think I liked seeing you with that guy?” Chanyeol growls, hand tightening around the back of Baekhyun’s neck, and Baekhyun claws at the wall, pushing his ass back against Chanyeol’s bare cock as he silently begs to be filled.
He needs to be fucked and filled deep, needs Chanyeol to take him right then and there. He can already hear him rolling the latex on and he lets out a breathy sigh of relief, waiting for the younger’s fingers to familiarly slip into him to open him up wide and nice.
Baekhyun is impatient, rocking back on Chanyeol’s hand as he works two slick digits into him, sliding them past Baekhyun’s rim as he tries to get at that spot inside him, press up against his prostate and make him whimper.
There’s a different type of satisfaction that comes with hearing how much he can unravel Baekhyun. It’s a side to him no one else sees, and Chanyeol loves how he can turn him into such a wanton mess of begs and pleads.
It was the sight of him in the stranger’s arms that switched something inside of Chanyeol on, a green devil pushing at him to take Baekhyun, scoop him up and keep him from the world. Chanyeol’s never known jealousy like this, to claw at him and take over, to make possession the only thing on his mind. But right now, Baekhyun is fucking himself down on his cock so nicely, and the only thought that flickers through his brain is that Baekhyun is his.
Chanyeol comes ridiculously quick this time, Baekhyun squeezing every drop of come out of him as he spreads his ass so wide for him.
Chanyeol’s craving more of Baekhyun, and it’s not just for the sounds he makes.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” Baekhyun huffs, frowning at the textbook. He’s read the same passage over three times in a row and still the words remain completely foreign to his eyes. It’s all just a mix of lettering that his brain won’t intake.
“Byun, you called me over an hour ago,” Chanyeol complains from his position on the bed, lying on his back as he waits for Baekhyun to finish studying up the chapter.
“Shut up, Park, this is hard.”
“Not as hard as I am,” Chanyeol replies, his tone going for exhaustion but it’s only when Baekhyun looks over does he wink, and the latter groans at his attempt at being comical.
“I need to finish this page first otherwise I’ll never get it done,” Baekhyun explains, turning his head back to bury himself back in the book.
Chanyeol laments, “But my dick aches for you,” before he rolls off the bed and walks over to Baekhyun’s desk. “Now come be a good boy and sit on my cock before I die of genital pain.”
Baekhyun shoots out an arm to whack Chanyeol in his crotch for his crudeness, only to get stopped midway as Chanyeol tugs him out of his chair, scooping him up as he makes his way to the bed, Baekhyun flailing in his arms.
“What the fuck, Park? Stop it! I need to study-“
“You need to shut up, so we can fuck, which is exactly what you called me over for ten years ago,” Chanyeol states, and Baekhyun is still struggling to get out of his grip as he wriggles on the bed.
“I thought I would be done by then,” Baekhyun grits out, trying to will away the arousal that’s growing with every kiss and nip Chanyeol is marking on his skin.
“You miscalculated,” Chanyeol murmurs against the plane of his stomach, running his nose lightly over the bulge in Baekhyun’s briefs as he starts to mouth at the fabric.
Baekhyun arches his back when Chanyeol starts to suck at the head of his dick, making a show of licking up the precome, and Baekhyun swallows hard at the sight of Chanyeol tasting him.
“So what do you say?” Chanyeol asks, wearing his cocky grin proud as he shuffles up to hover over Baekhyun’s face, and he can see that Chanyeol already knows he’s won.
Baekhyun lets out an exasperated sigh and curls a hand around the nape of his neck, “Just shut up and fuck me.”
When Baekhyun wakes up in the morning, Chanyeol’s already left, his side of the bed messily made. Baekhyun gets out of the bed feeling like a tiny raincloud is over his head, and he shakes away the surprisingly sad mood that comes with the thought that Chanyeol didn’t stay.
He doesn’t get back to his books until midday, slumping into his seat with such a lack of enthusiasm. On his desk stands a bottle of chocolate milk Baekhyun definitely did not buy, and Baekhyun’s eyebrows furrow in confusion as he picks it up, reading the sticky note underneath.
Study well! is scribbled in Chanyeol’s crap handwriting, along with a winking face, and the corners of Baekhyun’s mouth twist up as he uncaps the bottle and brings it to his lips.
The drink tastes like shit, and Baekhyun nearly coughs it all out, but it’s the gesture that keeps him smiling for the rest of the afternoon, eyes constantly straying to Chanyeol’s sticky note he’s tacked up on his pinboard.
“Byun!”
Baekhyun turns his head at the sound, frowning automatically when his eyes land on Chanyeol. He ignores him, about to walk away, when there’s another loud whisper of his name and his gaze flickers over to the angry librarian who looks about two seconds away from whacking Chanyeol over the head with a book if he so even breathes.
He grits his teeth and spins around, stalking towards Chanyeol for the mere purpose of shutting him up.
“What do you want, Park?”
“You looked like you were trying to find an empty table,” Chanyeol grins, “so do you want to study with me?” He pulls out the chair beside him, patting the seat. Baekhyun huffs and takes another quick look around the library. Unless he wanted to risk the chance of contracting the common cold from Sneezerson five tables away, Baekhyun’s other choice would be going home.
Or, as Chanyeol had offered, sitting as his table.
He chooses to sit across from him instead, and Chanyeol pouts at his rejection of his earlier proffered seat. Baekhyun averts his eyes and opens his textbook, choosing to block his view of Chanyeol’s face by standing the book up, and Chanyeol laughs, going back to scribbling in his notebook.
They sit in silence, Chanyeol muttering numbers to himself as he works on coursework, and Baekhyun concentrates on studying for his midterm. Chanyeol doesn’t make any cocky remarks, but it’s the sly smirks that he occasionally throws his way that brings back the thought of the phone call. He hasn’t brought it up, and he doesn’t know if Chanyeol even knows if he answered, considering that Jungmi or whoever could have easily told him.
Baekhyun knows he’s ridiculous for still thinking about it, despite how long ago it was.
It’s a shock when the chairs on either side of Chanyeol are pulled out and Baekhyun watches as two male seat themselves down, dumping their own bags and textbooks on the table with a thunk.
“When did you get here?” The dark haired one says to Chanyeol, ruffling through his backpack for some papers he pulls out all crumpled.
“An hour ago,” Chanyeol says, eyes narrowed, “the same time you assholes were supposed to get here.”
“We got distracted gaming,” the blond explains like it excuses their tardiness, and Chanyeol just rolls his eyes.
“This is Baekhyun,” Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun’s eyebrows raise slightly in surprise. It’s the first time he’s heard Chanyeol say his actual name, and while it’s strange to hear, the way it rolls off his tongue is definitely something Baekhyun can get used to.
“Oh, Byun Baekhyun?” The brunet asks with a slight smirk, about to say something more before Chanyeol’s digging an elbow into his side and mouthing something to him that Baekhyun can’t make out.
Their names turn out to be Jongin and Zitao, and Baekhyun doesn’t end up getting as much studying as he hoped when he got to the library. He gets roped in along with their plans to dinner, not that Baekhyun can ever really turn down food when his stomach is grumbling and Jongin is talking about pizza.
He isn’t planning on talking to them about Chanyeol at all, but the opportunity presents itself when Chanyeol leaves to the bathroom, and Baekhyun isn’t the one to instigate it.
“So, Baekhyun,” Jongin begins, “how are you and Chanyeol?”
“M-me and Park? Me and Park aren’t anything,” Baekhyun stutters, a little taken aback by the bluntness of which they’re jumping into questioning him a few hours after they just met.
“So he doesn’t ditch us to booty call with you?” Zitao winks, and Baekhyun can feel the blush spread like fire across his cheeks.
“It’s not always with me…” Baekhyun says, because there’s no point denying their hook-ups.
Jongin and Zitao share a look, “No, it’s always you,” and the latter laughs at the look on Baekhyun’s face.
“Wait, what? Doesn’t Park… still sleep around? I mean, it’s Park.”
Jongin shrugs, eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion, “Chanyeol hasn’t slept with anyone since you guys started your, whatever.”
“Seems like your sex drive is enough to satisfy him,” Zitao jokes, and Baekhyun cracks a tiny smile. He’s at a loss for words, but then Chanyeol returns and their conversation ends as quickly as it began.
“Did you know,” Baekhyun slowly says as he walks towards the bus stop, “that tonight was the first time you called me Baekhyun?”
Chanyeol stops, hands in his pockets, “No way.” Baekhyun nods, laughing a little as he balances himself, stepping one foot in front of the other along the crack in the pavement.
“Maybe it’s because you always call me Park.”
“Because you’re an arrogant shit,” Baekhyun jokes, looking up at Chanyeol with a grin, “who called me Byun first. So it’s only right I say Park.”
“What if I start calling you Baekhyun?” Chanyeol asks, sitting down on the cold metal seat at the bus stop, and there’s that tingle that runs through Baekhyun again. The younger’s gaze is anything but teasing, and Baekhyun has to quickly look away.
“It’s not going to stop me from calling you Park,” he shrugs, building up the façade so Chanyeol doesn’t notice the slight smile on his lips. Chanyeol’s bus pulls up right at that moment, ending their conversation as he makes to get on, until he sees Baekhyun step ahead of him and board as well. He tilts his head; about to ask why Baekhyun is taking the bus that doesn’t even drive close to where he lives, when the elder turns back, pausing when he sees Chanyeol isn’t following.
“Aren’t I coming home with you?”
Chanyeol licks at Baekhyun’s collarbone, tongue running over the mark he made just seconds before. Baekhyun is a whining mess underneath him, hips rutting up automatically to grind against Chanyeol’s own bare cock. They’re both undressed, Chanyeol’s hands dwarfing Baekhyun’s as their fingers clasp together above the latter’s head.
Chanyeol takes Baekhyun’s nipple into his mouth, teething at the bud as his hand comes down to wrap around Baekhyun’s cock. He starts to slowly jerk him off, letting his thumb rub at the slit, and Baekhyun gasps, shutting his eyes as his nails dig into Chanyeol’s bicep.
His grip loosens when Chanyeol shuffles down, and then there’s nothing, no sound, and no touch. It’s that very silence that forces Baekhyun to slowly open one eye, and the look on Chanyeol’s face is a very unexpected sight.
There’s no smirk, no trademark grin, no gleaming twinkle in his eyes. He looks… careful. Like Baekhyun’s three seconds from breaking.
If Baekhyun wasn’t one hundred and fifty five percent turned on, his dick would probably revert into its flaccidity with the mood-killer that is Park Chanyeol’s gaze. Then his eyes flicker up and meet Baekhyun’s own, and Baekhyun has never felt so shy and timid during sex before. For some reason it makes everything much more intimate, and Baekhyun doesn’t know how to explain the lump in his throat that’s forming. He’s torn between the urge to slap Chanyeol on the side of the head and just tell him to suck his dick, or letting him continue to stare at him like he’s a piece of glass that will shatter if touched.
But then the moment ends as swiftly as it comes, and Chanyeol bows his head, pressing a kiss to the tip of his cock. Baekhyun lets out another little whimper, nearly tearing into the sheets as the heat of Chanyeol’s mouth encompasses the rest of his cock. He takes him in one go, no teasing or characteristic remark.
It’s all too much, too warm and hot on him, and Baekhyun can’t contain it like he usually can.
“C-Chanyeol, I’m c-coming,” Baekhyun manages to get out, before his back arches and he’s releasing into Chanyeol’s mouth, and the younger swallows it all down. His heart is thudding loud at the sound of his name being spoken from Baekhyun’s lips.
They cut the foreplay short after, because Baekhyun is begging Chanyeol to please, please put his cock in him, and for a reason Baekhyun can’t fathom, the latter isn’t in the mood to tease. His fingers are slicked up shortly, and he works Baekhyun open quickly, letting the moans from the elder fill the room as Chanyeol’s cock stands erect. Chanyeol isn’t his usual self, cocky and arrogant and talkative.
His fingers find the condom and he tears the wrapper, about to roll it on, before Baekhyun is raising himself up on his elbows. “No, no condom,” Baekhyun breathes, eyes locked onto Chanyeol’s as he pushes the latex away.
Confusion immediately manifests on Chanyeol’s face, “Baek, are you sure?”
Baekhyun nods, and Chanyeol leans down to kiss him, lips so gentle on the elder’s. He makes sure his cock is lubed up enough, stopping for a moment before he pushes in. It’s new for him too, never having had sex without protection, but it’s the flit in his heart with Baekhyun’s affirmation that is driving him to do it.
He slowly presses the tip in past the rim, and Baekhyun’s breath hitches significantly, eyes squeezing as Chanyeol pushes further in.
He isn’t sure what made him say no, because this is Park Chanyeol, Known Player who’s probably fucked more people than Baekhyun has friends on Facebook (exaggeration as always, but when is Baekhyun ever not dramatic?), and three months ago, Baekhyun would have never considered this a prospect in any universe.
But it’s his reality right now, and for some reason, it doesn’t feel wrong.
They fuck slow and deep, mouths attached to fill the silences that fall in between every moan and grunt as Chanyeol thrusts in harder. Chanyeol pulls out before he comes, and wraps hands around the both of them, jerking them off until they release together, a mess of white come sprayed between them.
Chanyeol is the one who gets up to clean them up, wiping Baekhyun down before stealing another kiss, and Baekhyun falls asleep before he gets back to bed, warm and cozy in a bed that isn’t his own.
It’s in the middle of the early morning when Baekhyun wakes up, and the realization hits him extremely quick and full of regret. He doesn’t wait, slipping out of bed straightaway with great care to not wake Chanyeol. He dresses, making sure he doesn’t forget anything, taking one last glance at Chanyeol before shutting the bedroom door and padding into the living room.
And just like that, he leaves.
Three weeks go by.
Baekhyun had ended up skipping that first week of lectures, until Jongdae and Lu Han managed to knock some sense into him, and he reluctantly had dragged himself to university, making sure to steer clear of Chanyeol. The younger doesn’t show up to their few shared courses, and Baekhyun thinks himself lucky that Chanyeol’s probably just under the weather on the days he chooses to come in.
It isn’t that he doesn’t want to see him; it’s the opposite that’s driving him away.
Baekhyun isn’t supposed to want to see Chanyeol, and the very thought is scaring him. Park Chanyeol isn’t supposed to be someone Baekhyun can see any future with, so he doesn’t know why he keeps visualizing spending days wrapped in his arms, or hanging out together; he doesn’t care, so long as they’re together.
It’s become an attachment, and he wants-no-needs it to stop.
“He keeps calling you?”
Baekhyun nods glumly, shoving his phone to the side so Jongdae can take a look. The elder scrolls the list of missed calls, eyes widening at the number displayed to the side of Chanyeol’s name.
“Baekhyun, this isn’t healthy,” Lu Han says, hand coming to rest gently on top of his. “You should talk to him.”
“And tell him what? I ran away because it was getting too serious?”
Jongdae and Lu Han share a look before the latter merely shrugs and says, “Yeah.” Baekhyun rolls his eyes and leans his head back down on the tops of his knees. He hugs his legs close to his chest as he rocks himself back and forth slightly, “I hate Park.”
“I think the problem is that you love him,” Jongdae corrects, and Baekhyun snorts.
“I don’t love Park.”
“But you like him,” Lu Han adds in, and Baekhyun can’t find the words to disagree.
Yeah, I like him.
The phone call comes in the early afternoon, and Baekhyun takes a quick glance at the caller ID to double check it isn’t Chanyeol.
“Mom?” Baekhyun says warily, because it’s not like he isn’t glad to hear from his mother, but whenever they do talk it’s never by phone call, and his composure turns cautious.
“Baekhyun?” Her voice breaks, and Baekhyun’s immediately on edge, teeth biting down onto his bottom lip. “Baekhyun, I’m so sorry.” She’s crying and Baekhyun’s grip on the phone tightens.
“Mom? What’s wrong, what’s happening?” He can hear her sobs and he waits, his breath shortening with every inhale.
It seems like hours have passed when his mother finally speaks, her crying toned down slightly, and the words are quiet and cracked, but Baekhyun hears them as loud as ever.
“Your, your granddad…”
He doesn’t even need his mother to finish the rest of the sentence, composure crumbling as he manages to choke out a, “I have to go, mom,” before he’s ending the call, letting his phone fall to the floor as he yanks his front door open.
Baekhyun wanders around the city, not really sure where he’s going or what time it is. Night’s already fallen and he has no way to know just how late it is because his phone is back at the apartment. He’s stumbled into three bars on the way to nowhere, thankful he had his wallet on him for cash, and things are dizzy but somehow the cold air is heightening his would-be-lowered senses, and he doesn't feel as drunk as he should.
The alcohol should be numbing the pain, but there are still blades in his throat, slicing him up from the inside, and all he wants is to cry. He wants to feel something other than the uncontrollable pain that’s taking shelter in him, curling up and settling down like it belongs.
His grandfather’s health hadn’t been good recently, but Baekhyun always wanted, always believed that he would make it through.
He breaks into a jog, running past the park and making a sharp corner. His feet are leading him, and he lets them take him somewhere familiar, the trees passing by a blur as he sprints to somewhere he hasn’t been in a long time.
A loud knocking wakes Chanyeol up and he slips on a shirt before flicking on the living room lights, making his way groggily to the front door. The last person he expects to see is Baekhyun, and yet there he is, out of breath and extremely dishevelled, and Chanyeol is frozen, so shocked at what to do, so he lets Baekhyun step in and shut the door.
Hands are curled in the front of his shirt and he’s pulled down into a kiss, and Chanyeol can smell the alcohol inches before their lips even meet. Baekhyun’s hands are hastily fumbling at his clothes, and it’s when Baekhyun whispers into his mouth, “I need you,” do Chanyeol’s senses flick back on and he pushes him away, anger crossing his eyes automatically.
“Byun, what the fuck are you doing?” He spits out, willing himself to keep up his front even at the sight of teary-eyed Baekhyun.
“Park, come on,” Baekhyun tries to tease, but his voice sounds more like pleading, and Chanyeol catches the slight choke in his words. His resolve falters, and all at once his features soften when he sees a tear roll down his cheek.
“Baek, what’s wrong?” He takes a step towards him, and Baekhyun immediately brings a hand up to wipe at his cheeks.
“Nothing, I want to fuck,” he answers, hands reaching out to try and strip Chanyeol of his clothes. He doesn’t let him refuse, doesn’t want to hear him say no, sealing their lips with an open-mouthed kiss as he attempts to get his pants off.
Chanyeol pushes him away, “W-wait, seriously Baek,” as he runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “You can’t… you can’t do this. You can’t just leave me hanging, just up and leave with nothing, and expect me to still be here. I’m not some toy you can just use at will.”
Baekhyun’s pout morphs into something ugly, and he glares at Chanyeol, his grief transforming into anger as his voice rises, “You agreed-we both agreed on what this was, Park. Plain sex. No feelings; no strings attached. Don’t try and make me feel bad about how this isn’t going to be something more.”
“And what if I want more, Baek? What if I always wanted more?” Chanyeol says, and it’s not like he’s expecting an answer. “Don’t you know-can’t you see that I-I like you?” His sounds tired, defeated, almost, and he’s asking for something Baekhyun knows he can’t give.
So for the last time, Baekhyun turns and leaves, presenting his exit as a reply.
Jongdae and Lu Han come with to the funeral, standing beside Baekhyun dressed all in black as they watch the coffin get lowered into the ground. They’ve both known Baekhyun for a long time, Lu Han being there when Baekhyun’s grandmother passed away, and they know what he’s like.
He isn’t going to cry, because Baekhyun doesn’t show emotion like this. He displays grief in other ways, through anger or silence or false happiness.
Chanyeol doesn’t call or text anymore, and Baekhyun wants to tell himself it’s for the better things never moved forward. Despite everything that’s happened over the past few months, Baekhyun doesn’t want to believe he could be happier with him. Any of Chanyeol’s things he’s left at Baekhyun’s end up thrown in a box, blanket draped over it so Baekhyun’s eyes don’t drift over and he’s reminded. He’s left some of his own possessions at Chanyeol’s, and he’s come to terms he isn’t going to see his favourite scarf or Space Invaders snapback.
One day Baekhyun finally musters enough courage to go by his place, dropping the box off at his front door before he’s sprinting the opposite direction to make sure he doesn’t run into him.
Park Chanyeol is simply a bump in the road, and Baekhyun needs to drive on.
“Guys, I really don’t feel like going anywhere.”
“The only time you ever leave your room is for class, Baekhyun, come on,” Jongdae tugs on his arm, and Baekhyun reluctantly gets pulled along.
His exams ended a few days ago, but still he felt like staying at home, wrapped up in a blanket as the hours ticked by, his resolve to do something-anything-lost. Lu Han and Jongdae tried their best to celebrate, suggesting anything from a club night to staying at home and watching Harry Potter, but Baekhyun rejected them all, seeking comfort in his solitude.
It’s a miracle they’ve managed to drag him out today, but they both figure it’s been more than enough time. The two of them haven’t seen their best friend in literal weeks, almost closing in on a month.
“We’re almost there,” Lu Han tries to assuage Baekhyun, and his eyebrows raise when he sees a familiar hat on a very familiar head of hair with a familiar scarf wrapped around the person’s neck, and his first instinct is to run. He tries to book it, only to be grabbed by Jongdae and Lu Han, holding him back as they spin him around and literally drag him towards the bench.
“Oh hey, Byun,” Chanyeol tries to happily greet him, and it’s the first time Baekhyun has seen such nervousness on his face.
“Hi… Park.”
He doesn’t notice Jongdae or Lu Han slink away until the silence between the two of them has stretched into a good minute, and he turns his head to figure out where the hell his so-called friends went. Baekhyun makes a note to maim them later.
“Um, listen-“
“No, Chanyeol, let me talk first,” Baekhyun interrupts, missing the way something flickers in Chanyeol’s eyes at the mention of his name. “I’m sorry, for everything. Dropping your stuff off like that too, that was really shitty of me. But this thing, whatever it is between us, can’t h-“
“Baek,” Chanyeol cuts him off, grabbing his hand and Baekhyun’s wide eyes shoot up, “I want to say sorry. Lu Han and Jongdae told me about your grandfather, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry I yelled at you, and wasn’t by your side.”
Baekhyun takes a deep breath, keeping quiet.
“But I want to say this now, and I need to: I like you. I actually like you a lot, you idiot. I have, for a while. Before we started this whole benefits thing, before the first we even slept together.”
“W-wait what?”
“Ever since I saw you in freshman year,” Chanyeol starts to explain, a little nervous laugh making its way past his lips, “I thought you were a girl, not going to lie.” Baekhyun’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say anything, letting Chanyeol continue, “But then after figuring out you did have a dick, that still didn’t make me want you any less. I know I showed it in a really bad way, but I didn’t know how else to approach you.”
“And simply trying to start a normal conversation never crossed your mind?”
“I tried!” Chanyeol defends himself, “But whenever you saw me coming, you just flipped me off and wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise.”
Baekhyun bites down on his bottom lip, not denying it, “And at first, I thought I only wanted you for your ass, because seriously, Byun, finest ass this side of the continent-“
“Park,” Baekhyun warns, despite the blush rising to his cheeks.
“Right, right,” Chanyeol shakes his head, getting back to topic, “but I think the more I tried to get into your pants, the more I started to actually want you, just for you.” Chanyeol sticks his hand out, a familiar bottle of chocolate milk in his gloved hand as he bows his head down.
“So,” he takes a deep breath, “this is me telling you I like you. Properly. Laying down my cards and confessing.”
The sight of Chanyeol with Baekhyun’s hat on, and red and brown scarf wrapped around his neck should be amusing, but Baekhyun finds that he likes it, and the corner of his mouth twists as he tiptoes up to grab the snapback off his head.
He turns it over in his hand, mulling things in his mind, “But Park, we can’t happen. This,” he motions between the two of them, “is just, not something that can happen. We’re too different and-“
“Baekhyun, look at me,” Chanyeol lifts his chin up, placing the chocolate milk in his hand as he stares deep into his eyes. “You want this to happen. Just, let it.”
His voice is soft and gentle, and before he knows it, Chanyeol is leaning in and pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss. Baekhyun knows Chanyeol is right, and it’s killing him because how could Park Chanyeol be the more mature one of the two and tell it to him straight. He doesn’t know what he wants to do, because the thought of Chanyeol and him together is still frightening and his gut is telling him to look the other way, but the answer comes when Chanyeol is about to pull away, and Baekhyun holds onto him, kissing harder as he tilts his head.
“Is this… are you saying yes to this?” Chanyeol asks breathily when they finally separate, and Baekhyun rolls his eyes as he watches his face break into a smile.
Baekhyun sighs, slightly nodding as he looks up with a similar smile, “Yeah, okay.”
Chanyeol grins, before he remembers Baekhyun’s scarf and quickly removes it, wrapping it tightly around Baekhyun’s own neck.
“C-can we?” He indicates at Baekhyun’s hand, and he rolls his eyes, giving in anyways as Chanyeol’s fingers come to clasp at his. They start to walk towards wherever Chanyeol is taking them, the silence between them comfortable until Chanyeol opens his mouth, “I knew you couldn’t resist my charm.”
Baekhyun whacks him in the stomach, handing him back the bottle, “By the way, this drink tastes absolutely shit.”
“Park! Penguin is pawing at the legs of your bed!” Baekhyun yells from the bedroom, and Chanyeol quickly runs in, big hands dwarfing the kitten as she creates more teeth marks in the wood.
“Shit. Bad Panda!” Chanyeol scolds, and Baekhyun’s mouth curls up into a smile.
“Panda? What happened to Penguin?” He walks on his knees to the edge of the bed, Chanyeol’s shirt ending just slightly past mid-thigh.
“Oh,” Chanyeol blushes, and Baekhyun looks shocked because Chanyeol is blushing. “I changed her name after your suggestion.” He scurries out of the room as soon as he finishes his sentence, Panda meowing in his hands as he puts her outside.
Baekhyun waits until Chanyeol’s back in the room, bedroom door closed, until he opens his mouth again, “And why is that?”
“I don’t know,” Chanyeol shrugs, “I liked the name better.”
“Are you sure?” Baekhyun grins, motioning for Chanyeol to come closer as he starts to unbutton his shirt. Chanyeol smirks, grabbing Baekhyun by the hips as he presses a kiss on the side of his neck.
“Maybe it was because then I could say you named her,” Chanyeol says against his skin, “so she could be, well, sort of ours.”
Baekhyun blushes, and Chanyeol makes sure to kiss every red spot away as he slowly starts to undress.
“You know, Byun,” Chanyeol begins, chest heaving post-sex as he stares hard into his eyes like he’s about to say something deathly serious. It figures that all that comes out is, “your ass is seriously the best I’ve ever had.”
Baekhyun simply rolls his eyes.
“Shut the fuck up, Park.”
//
they could have fucked more tbh.
pairing: baekhyun/chanyeol
rating: nc1769
length: 16.2k
warning: rly shotty writing and lots of bad porn. lots.
summary: over the course of the week, baekhyun ends up on chanyeol’s cock more often than he’d like to admit. not that they’re exclusive.
Baekhyun awakes to the sound of a ringtone, and he groggily turns over, hand fumbling for the phone on the nightstand.
“Hngh?” Baekhyun answers, mind still disorientated.
“Chanyeol, are we still on for tonight~” A female’s voice comes over the line, and Baekhyun shakes himself out of his sleep-driven stupor.
“Wait, who is this?”
“Jungmi. Who are you?” Her tone comes off accusatory and confused, and Baekhyun hastily ends the call, taking one glance at the phone before realizing it isn’t his. He slowly puts it back in place, jumping nearly five feet in the air when it buzzes again and a text message flashes across the screen. Baekhyun averts his gaze as best as he can, slipping out of the bed and grabbing the first piece of clothing he sees off the floor. He knows Chanyeol’s in the kitchen, the telltale sound of sizzling crawling through the gap between the door and wall.
He shuffles out of the bedroom, walking into the kitchen with nerves at a high as he seats himself at the counter. The thought of Chanyeol sleeping with anyone else shouldn’t faze him the slightest; they’re not exclusive, but he’s bothered and he doesn’t know why.
“Morning babe,” Chanyeol smiles wide, and Baekhyun shifts back into character enough to give him his usual eye roll, grabbing the fork and knife off the table before cutting into the egg Chanyeol slides onto the plate. He stuffs his mouth on the first bite, chewing noisily as he thinks over the phone call. He isn’t being unexpectedly quiet, but Chanyeol’s eyebrows furrow slightly, “Hey Byun, you okay?”
Baekhyun nods automatically, swallowing with a large gulp as he licks over his lips, “Yeah, I’m fine.” He manages a quick smile that he always uses for Chanyeol’s benefit (because Baekhyun isn’t an asshole to him one hundred percent of the time), which doesn’t seem to appease the younger’s worries.
They’re both interrupted by the tinkling of a bell, and Baekhyun looks down to see a kitten rubbing itself against his feet, meowing as it looks up at him.
“Oh my gosh, you got a kitty!” Baekhyun exclaims, shuffling off the stool to crouch down. The kitten rubs its head into the curve of Baekhyun’s palm, and he giggles, petting its soft fur.
“Uh, yeah,” Chanyeol smiles, a hand coming up to scratch at the back of his head. “Hey, is this my shirt?” He pulls at the material, and Baekhyun looks down at the larger than normal shirt he’s got on.
“Oh right, sorry. I just picked up the first thing I saw.”
Chanyeol shakes his head, about to reply, “No it’s okay, keep it,” but then Baekhyun’s opening his mouth again.
“Have you always had a cat?” He asks, eyes never straying from the kitten as he strokes under its chin. They don’t fuck as often at Chanyeol’s place, so Baekhyun’s never really taken the time to wander around it, but he’s sure he would have noticed a cat before.
“Nope, she’s a stray - found her on the fire escape actually a few days ago.”
Baekhyun’s heart swells again, and not for the first time do the corners of his mouth turn up at how much Chanyeol can surprise him. It’s not like he believed Chanyeol was a complete asshole with disregard for anyone else’s feelings (okay, Baekhyun admits, he might, might have thought that previously, in the past) but the idea of Chanyeol taking in a stray does something to twist at his heart, stretching it out and curling it up all at the same time.
Baekhyun’s falling, and he doesn’t even know it.
“What’s her name?”
“Haven’t thought of one yet,” Chanyeol muses, “so I just call her Penguin.”
“Penguin?” Baekhyun laughs, tilting his head as he gazes at the kitten.
“Yeah, because she’s black and white,” Chanyeol sits himself down, legs outstretched as he drapes his fingers across the kitten’s eyes, laughing softly when she goes on her hind legs to grab at his hand.
“I think Panda suits her more. You know, because the black spots are sort of over her eyes,” Baekhyun sticks a finger out, drawing two circles in the air to point them out. The kitten’s attention drifts back to Baekhyun as she leaps into his lap, pawing at his chest, and Chanyeol’s gaze lingers a little too long on how Baekhyun’s eyes light up to reply straightaway.
“Baekhyun? Baekhyun!” Jongdae snaps his fingers in front of the elder’s face, trying to shake him out of whatever stupor he’s in.
“Wha-what?” Baekhyun blinks, waving Jongdae’s hand away as he tries to orientate himself. He’s drifted off again, this time in the middle of takeout dinner, and it’s not the usual couple-of-seconds thought that’s stolen his attention. He’s practically missed their entire conversation. The phone call was a few days but it’s still worrying him. His conversation with Chanyeol has remained silent on both ends, and Baekhyun isn’t brave enough to ask for some stress-relieving sex at the moment. He’s too on end, high-wired and nerves frazzled at the thought of Chanyeol in bed with someone else, both their limbs entangled and caught up in one another.
“Do you want to come out with us tomorrow? Jongdae wants to check out this new club on the other side of town,” Lu Han asks, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “Or do you already have plans with Chanyeol’s dick?”
Baekhyun chooses to flip him off before grabbing hold of his box and chopsticks and sifting through the noodles for the meat, “Yeah sure, I’ll come with.”
Baekhyun finds himself wishing he actually had made a prior booty call with Chanyeol, even if he had to face Lu Han and Jongdae’s teasing. The club scene isn’t his thing anymore, and he’s finding it hard to actually talk, let alone move around. There are people everywhere, bodies gyrating and sweat on every patch of their skin.
It’s all just unhygienic in Baekhyun’s eyes.
Disgruntledly, he worms his way through the crowd, finding Jongdae sipping a beer at the bar.
“Where’s Lu Han?” Baekhyun all but shouts, and Jongdae has to lean in to hear him properly. He shrugs, and Baekhyun sees him mouth somewhere. Very helpful. “Alright then, I’m going to go to the bathroom.”
Jongdae nods distractedly, attention more focused on the guy a couple of seats down. He sends him a wink, and Baekhyun shakes his head. Typical. He gives Jongdae an encouraging pat on the back before he’s taking a deep breath, readying himself to push through the mass, the need to vacate his bladder increasing steadily.
The toilets aren’t as congested as he thinks, and Baekhyun gets back to the bar with no serious damage (drink spillage or otherwise) done to his clothes. He orders himself a drink to bide the time, downing it (and its two successors) pretty rapidly. He just wants to forget about exams, forget he ever picked up Chanyeol’s phone so he wouldn’t have to know about his other hook-ups.
The alcohol doesn’t take much time to kick in, and soon Baekhyun is on the dance floor, Lu Han and Jongdae forgotten as he grinds up against some stranger. It’s rare when either Lu Han or Jongdae aren’t there to keep tabs on him, because Baekhyun is definitely not the poster child for Handling One’s Liquor. He can feel warm hands on his hips and a pair of lips pressed to the side of his neck, tracking open-mouthed kisses across his skin.
Baekhyun isn’t concentrating, isn’t thinking about anything but the feel of this guy around him, and he cranes his head back, reaching up an arm to pull the stranger down. Their lips meet, his tongue already out and licking into Baekhyun’s mouth, and the latter can’t help but reciprocate, beginning to rotate his hips again as they move to the music, lips locked and limbs tangled.
But Baekhyun wants more.
The male seems to get the hint, sliding a hand down to cup over Baekhyun’s crotch, and Baekhyun drops his head back, breath hitching.
“Shall we take this somewhere else?” the husky voice rings clear in his ears, and Baekhyun’s about to nod when someone else is answering for him, except he knows this voice, very well, and they’re saying the exact opposite.
“How about you keep your hands off him?”
Baekhyun doesn’t even have time to glance back at the confused and irritated look on the male’s face before Chanyeol’s yanking him away to a somewhat open spot further in the club.
“Park?” Baekhyun quizzically tilts his head, “What are you doing here?”
“Byun, are you drunk?” Chanyeol bends down to eye level, hands gripping onto his shoulders.
Baekhyun pouts, shaking his head, “No! I’m happy.”
“You’re fucking dru-“
Baekhyun doesn’t care much for Chanyeol’s talk, choosing to occupy his mouth another way by pulling him down into a kiss. He’s forgotten about the phone call, the female’s voice, everything. The only thing that matters is feeling Chanyeol against him, because he’s craving sex and Chanyeol is the one he knows who can fill that need. Chanyeol’s words get muffled and Baekhyun grins, deepening the kiss as he opens his mouth more to lick over Chanyeol’s teeth.
“W-wait, Baek, stop,” Chanyeol pulls away, but Baekhyun doesn’t listen, choosing to spin around, pressing his back to Chanyeol’s front as he starts to move.
“I want to dance,” Baekhyun states, grabbing onto Chanyeol’s hands to move them to his hips. “Don’t you want to dance with me, Park?”
“Byun, stop-“
“Are you going to fuck me, Park?” Baekhyun giggles, swaying his hips against Chanyeol’s.
“Byun, what are you-fuck.” Chanyeol grits his teeth. Baekhyun is pushing back against his crotch, his ass feeling so round and perfect against his hardening dick, and he can’t help the flow of blood rushing down to his cock.
“Am I turning you on?” Baekhyun asks, fluttering his eyelashes as he looks back at him with a smirk, and Chanyeol has to swallow hard.
“Fucking damn it,” Chanyeol mutters under his breath, before he’s grabbing Baekhyun’s hand that’s wandering down to the forming tent in his pants, tightening his grip around his wrist. “I didn’t want to do this.”
Chanyeol pulls him further into the thronging crowd, and Baekhyun lets himself be tugged along, music ringing loud in his ears as the lights of the club flash by him, his sight blurring into a mass of colours and sounds.
The next thing he knows, he’s being slammed into the wall of the bathroom, Chanyeol flicking the lock of the door shut despite the hammering and cries of, “Hey fucker! Open the damn door!” from a couple of males outside. He’s too busy sucking the very breath out of Baekhyun before pushing the elder to his knees, hastily unbuttoning his pants to take out his cock.
It’s red and already leaking, a pearl of precome at the tip, and he drags the head across Baekhyun’s cheek.
“Fuck, you want this, don’t you?” Chanyeol asks, the sight of Baekhyun’s mouth practically watering for his cock already enough to make his dick stiffen even more. His tone is harsh, and he doesn’t waste any time shoving his dick into Baekhyun’s open mouth.
The elder takes it very appreciatively, sucking with enough enthusiasm to almost deep throat him.
“Fuck, you look like such a whore for me right now,” Chanyeol breathes, his hand brushing stray hairs off Baekhyun’s forehead as he encourages him forward, “such a needy whore.”
If anything, Chanyeol’s words spur Baekhyun on, and he hollows his cheeks, going all the way down so his nose brushes against the small patch of hair at the base. He likes the way his lips stretch, the slick feel of Chanyeol sliding into his mouth as he starts to slowly thrust in.
It’s an unspoken question that lies between them when Baekhyun looks up and their eyes meet, Chanyeol’s eyebrow raised as if to ask if he’s sure. Baekhyun slightly nods, and Chanyeol starts to rock his hips more, letting his cock brush harder against the back of the elder’s throat.
Chanyeol works up his pace; holding Baekhyun’s head steady as he snaps his hips forward, the bathroom filling with the sounds of Baekhyun choking. There are tears in the corners of his eyes, and his grip tightens on the back of Chanyeol’s thighs, signs that he wants it more, faster and harder.
“Your mouth is so pretty, so pretty to be fucked,” Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun feels so hard and strained in his pants, trying to grind down against the floor for friction of some sort. “Look at you, being such a cockslut. I bet you wanted that guy’s dick too, didn’t you?” Chanyeol grits out, and he yanks Baekhyun by his hair, pulling him off as the elder starts to cough.
Baekhyun gets pulled up to his feet and spun around quickly, cheek pressed up against the cold tile as Chanyeol wrenches at his pants, nearly tearing them off in effort to get to Baekhyun’s bare ass.
“You’re a fucking slut,” is whispered in Baekhyun’s ear, and he mewls at the words, how something like this wouldn't normally turn him on, but right now, somehow because it’s Chanyeol, and Chanyeol’s voice talking dirty to him, he’s harder than ever. He desperately wants to touch himself, but Chanyeol is keeping him from humping at the wall with forceful hands on either side of his hips.
“No, you’re not going to come, not until I say so,” Chanyeol says against his ear, pressing up against him so Baekhyun can feel every inch of him. “Did you think I liked seeing you with that guy?” Chanyeol growls, hand tightening around the back of Baekhyun’s neck, and Baekhyun claws at the wall, pushing his ass back against Chanyeol’s bare cock as he silently begs to be filled.
He needs to be fucked and filled deep, needs Chanyeol to take him right then and there. He can already hear him rolling the latex on and he lets out a breathy sigh of relief, waiting for the younger’s fingers to familiarly slip into him to open him up wide and nice.
Baekhyun is impatient, rocking back on Chanyeol’s hand as he works two slick digits into him, sliding them past Baekhyun’s rim as he tries to get at that spot inside him, press up against his prostate and make him whimper.
There’s a different type of satisfaction that comes with hearing how much he can unravel Baekhyun. It’s a side to him no one else sees, and Chanyeol loves how he can turn him into such a wanton mess of begs and pleads.
It was the sight of him in the stranger’s arms that switched something inside of Chanyeol on, a green devil pushing at him to take Baekhyun, scoop him up and keep him from the world. Chanyeol’s never known jealousy like this, to claw at him and take over, to make possession the only thing on his mind. But right now, Baekhyun is fucking himself down on his cock so nicely, and the only thought that flickers through his brain is that Baekhyun is his.
Chanyeol comes ridiculously quick this time, Baekhyun squeezing every drop of come out of him as he spreads his ass so wide for him.
Chanyeol’s craving more of Baekhyun, and it’s not just for the sounds he makes.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” Baekhyun huffs, frowning at the textbook. He’s read the same passage over three times in a row and still the words remain completely foreign to his eyes. It’s all just a mix of lettering that his brain won’t intake.
“Byun, you called me over an hour ago,” Chanyeol complains from his position on the bed, lying on his back as he waits for Baekhyun to finish studying up the chapter.
“Shut up, Park, this is hard.”
“Not as hard as I am,” Chanyeol replies, his tone going for exhaustion but it’s only when Baekhyun looks over does he wink, and the latter groans at his attempt at being comical.
“I need to finish this page first otherwise I’ll never get it done,” Baekhyun explains, turning his head back to bury himself back in the book.
Chanyeol laments, “But my dick aches for you,” before he rolls off the bed and walks over to Baekhyun’s desk. “Now come be a good boy and sit on my cock before I die of genital pain.”
Baekhyun shoots out an arm to whack Chanyeol in his crotch for his crudeness, only to get stopped midway as Chanyeol tugs him out of his chair, scooping him up as he makes his way to the bed, Baekhyun flailing in his arms.
“What the fuck, Park? Stop it! I need to study-“
“You need to shut up, so we can fuck, which is exactly what you called me over for ten years ago,” Chanyeol states, and Baekhyun is still struggling to get out of his grip as he wriggles on the bed.
“I thought I would be done by then,” Baekhyun grits out, trying to will away the arousal that’s growing with every kiss and nip Chanyeol is marking on his skin.
“You miscalculated,” Chanyeol murmurs against the plane of his stomach, running his nose lightly over the bulge in Baekhyun’s briefs as he starts to mouth at the fabric.
Baekhyun arches his back when Chanyeol starts to suck at the head of his dick, making a show of licking up the precome, and Baekhyun swallows hard at the sight of Chanyeol tasting him.
“So what do you say?” Chanyeol asks, wearing his cocky grin proud as he shuffles up to hover over Baekhyun’s face, and he can see that Chanyeol already knows he’s won.
Baekhyun lets out an exasperated sigh and curls a hand around the nape of his neck, “Just shut up and fuck me.”
When Baekhyun wakes up in the morning, Chanyeol’s already left, his side of the bed messily made. Baekhyun gets out of the bed feeling like a tiny raincloud is over his head, and he shakes away the surprisingly sad mood that comes with the thought that Chanyeol didn’t stay.
He doesn’t get back to his books until midday, slumping into his seat with such a lack of enthusiasm. On his desk stands a bottle of chocolate milk Baekhyun definitely did not buy, and Baekhyun’s eyebrows furrow in confusion as he picks it up, reading the sticky note underneath.
Study well! is scribbled in Chanyeol’s crap handwriting, along with a winking face, and the corners of Baekhyun’s mouth twist up as he uncaps the bottle and brings it to his lips.
The drink tastes like shit, and Baekhyun nearly coughs it all out, but it’s the gesture that keeps him smiling for the rest of the afternoon, eyes constantly straying to Chanyeol’s sticky note he’s tacked up on his pinboard.
“Byun!”
Baekhyun turns his head at the sound, frowning automatically when his eyes land on Chanyeol. He ignores him, about to walk away, when there’s another loud whisper of his name and his gaze flickers over to the angry librarian who looks about two seconds away from whacking Chanyeol over the head with a book if he so even breathes.
He grits his teeth and spins around, stalking towards Chanyeol for the mere purpose of shutting him up.
“What do you want, Park?”
“You looked like you were trying to find an empty table,” Chanyeol grins, “so do you want to study with me?” He pulls out the chair beside him, patting the seat. Baekhyun huffs and takes another quick look around the library. Unless he wanted to risk the chance of contracting the common cold from Sneezerson five tables away, Baekhyun’s other choice would be going home.
Or, as Chanyeol had offered, sitting as his table.
He chooses to sit across from him instead, and Chanyeol pouts at his rejection of his earlier proffered seat. Baekhyun averts his eyes and opens his textbook, choosing to block his view of Chanyeol’s face by standing the book up, and Chanyeol laughs, going back to scribbling in his notebook.
They sit in silence, Chanyeol muttering numbers to himself as he works on coursework, and Baekhyun concentrates on studying for his midterm. Chanyeol doesn’t make any cocky remarks, but it’s the sly smirks that he occasionally throws his way that brings back the thought of the phone call. He hasn’t brought it up, and he doesn’t know if Chanyeol even knows if he answered, considering that Jungmi or whoever could have easily told him.
Baekhyun knows he’s ridiculous for still thinking about it, despite how long ago it was.
It’s a shock when the chairs on either side of Chanyeol are pulled out and Baekhyun watches as two male seat themselves down, dumping their own bags and textbooks on the table with a thunk.
“When did you get here?” The dark haired one says to Chanyeol, ruffling through his backpack for some papers he pulls out all crumpled.
“An hour ago,” Chanyeol says, eyes narrowed, “the same time you assholes were supposed to get here.”
“We got distracted gaming,” the blond explains like it excuses their tardiness, and Chanyeol just rolls his eyes.
“This is Baekhyun,” Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun’s eyebrows raise slightly in surprise. It’s the first time he’s heard Chanyeol say his actual name, and while it’s strange to hear, the way it rolls off his tongue is definitely something Baekhyun can get used to.
“Oh, Byun Baekhyun?” The brunet asks with a slight smirk, about to say something more before Chanyeol’s digging an elbow into his side and mouthing something to him that Baekhyun can’t make out.
Their names turn out to be Jongin and Zitao, and Baekhyun doesn’t end up getting as much studying as he hoped when he got to the library. He gets roped in along with their plans to dinner, not that Baekhyun can ever really turn down food when his stomach is grumbling and Jongin is talking about pizza.
He isn’t planning on talking to them about Chanyeol at all, but the opportunity presents itself when Chanyeol leaves to the bathroom, and Baekhyun isn’t the one to instigate it.
“So, Baekhyun,” Jongin begins, “how are you and Chanyeol?”
“M-me and Park? Me and Park aren’t anything,” Baekhyun stutters, a little taken aback by the bluntness of which they’re jumping into questioning him a few hours after they just met.
“So he doesn’t ditch us to booty call with you?” Zitao winks, and Baekhyun can feel the blush spread like fire across his cheeks.
“It’s not always with me…” Baekhyun says, because there’s no point denying their hook-ups.
Jongin and Zitao share a look, “No, it’s always you,” and the latter laughs at the look on Baekhyun’s face.
“Wait, what? Doesn’t Park… still sleep around? I mean, it’s Park.”
Jongin shrugs, eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion, “Chanyeol hasn’t slept with anyone since you guys started your, whatever.”
“Seems like your sex drive is enough to satisfy him,” Zitao jokes, and Baekhyun cracks a tiny smile. He’s at a loss for words, but then Chanyeol returns and their conversation ends as quickly as it began.
“Did you know,” Baekhyun slowly says as he walks towards the bus stop, “that tonight was the first time you called me Baekhyun?”
Chanyeol stops, hands in his pockets, “No way.” Baekhyun nods, laughing a little as he balances himself, stepping one foot in front of the other along the crack in the pavement.
“Maybe it’s because you always call me Park.”
“Because you’re an arrogant shit,” Baekhyun jokes, looking up at Chanyeol with a grin, “who called me Byun first. So it’s only right I say Park.”
“What if I start calling you Baekhyun?” Chanyeol asks, sitting down on the cold metal seat at the bus stop, and there’s that tingle that runs through Baekhyun again. The younger’s gaze is anything but teasing, and Baekhyun has to quickly look away.
“It’s not going to stop me from calling you Park,” he shrugs, building up the façade so Chanyeol doesn’t notice the slight smile on his lips. Chanyeol’s bus pulls up right at that moment, ending their conversation as he makes to get on, until he sees Baekhyun step ahead of him and board as well. He tilts his head; about to ask why Baekhyun is taking the bus that doesn’t even drive close to where he lives, when the elder turns back, pausing when he sees Chanyeol isn’t following.
“Aren’t I coming home with you?”
Chanyeol licks at Baekhyun’s collarbone, tongue running over the mark he made just seconds before. Baekhyun is a whining mess underneath him, hips rutting up automatically to grind against Chanyeol’s own bare cock. They’re both undressed, Chanyeol’s hands dwarfing Baekhyun’s as their fingers clasp together above the latter’s head.
Chanyeol takes Baekhyun’s nipple into his mouth, teething at the bud as his hand comes down to wrap around Baekhyun’s cock. He starts to slowly jerk him off, letting his thumb rub at the slit, and Baekhyun gasps, shutting his eyes as his nails dig into Chanyeol’s bicep.
His grip loosens when Chanyeol shuffles down, and then there’s nothing, no sound, and no touch. It’s that very silence that forces Baekhyun to slowly open one eye, and the look on Chanyeol’s face is a very unexpected sight.
There’s no smirk, no trademark grin, no gleaming twinkle in his eyes. He looks… careful. Like Baekhyun’s three seconds from breaking.
If Baekhyun wasn’t one hundred and fifty five percent turned on, his dick would probably revert into its flaccidity with the mood-killer that is Park Chanyeol’s gaze. Then his eyes flicker up and meet Baekhyun’s own, and Baekhyun has never felt so shy and timid during sex before. For some reason it makes everything much more intimate, and Baekhyun doesn’t know how to explain the lump in his throat that’s forming. He’s torn between the urge to slap Chanyeol on the side of the head and just tell him to suck his dick, or letting him continue to stare at him like he’s a piece of glass that will shatter if touched.
But then the moment ends as swiftly as it comes, and Chanyeol bows his head, pressing a kiss to the tip of his cock. Baekhyun lets out another little whimper, nearly tearing into the sheets as the heat of Chanyeol’s mouth encompasses the rest of his cock. He takes him in one go, no teasing or characteristic remark.
It’s all too much, too warm and hot on him, and Baekhyun can’t contain it like he usually can.
“C-Chanyeol, I’m c-coming,” Baekhyun manages to get out, before his back arches and he’s releasing into Chanyeol’s mouth, and the younger swallows it all down. His heart is thudding loud at the sound of his name being spoken from Baekhyun’s lips.
They cut the foreplay short after, because Baekhyun is begging Chanyeol to please, please put his cock in him, and for a reason Baekhyun can’t fathom, the latter isn’t in the mood to tease. His fingers are slicked up shortly, and he works Baekhyun open quickly, letting the moans from the elder fill the room as Chanyeol’s cock stands erect. Chanyeol isn’t his usual self, cocky and arrogant and talkative.
His fingers find the condom and he tears the wrapper, about to roll it on, before Baekhyun is raising himself up on his elbows. “No, no condom,” Baekhyun breathes, eyes locked onto Chanyeol’s as he pushes the latex away.
Confusion immediately manifests on Chanyeol’s face, “Baek, are you sure?”
Baekhyun nods, and Chanyeol leans down to kiss him, lips so gentle on the elder’s. He makes sure his cock is lubed up enough, stopping for a moment before he pushes in. It’s new for him too, never having had sex without protection, but it’s the flit in his heart with Baekhyun’s affirmation that is driving him to do it.
He slowly presses the tip in past the rim, and Baekhyun’s breath hitches significantly, eyes squeezing as Chanyeol pushes further in.
He isn’t sure what made him say no, because this is Park Chanyeol, Known Player who’s probably fucked more people than Baekhyun has friends on Facebook (exaggeration as always, but when is Baekhyun ever not dramatic?), and three months ago, Baekhyun would have never considered this a prospect in any universe.
But it’s his reality right now, and for some reason, it doesn’t feel wrong.
They fuck slow and deep, mouths attached to fill the silences that fall in between every moan and grunt as Chanyeol thrusts in harder. Chanyeol pulls out before he comes, and wraps hands around the both of them, jerking them off until they release together, a mess of white come sprayed between them.
Chanyeol is the one who gets up to clean them up, wiping Baekhyun down before stealing another kiss, and Baekhyun falls asleep before he gets back to bed, warm and cozy in a bed that isn’t his own.
It’s in the middle of the early morning when Baekhyun wakes up, and the realization hits him extremely quick and full of regret. He doesn’t wait, slipping out of bed straightaway with great care to not wake Chanyeol. He dresses, making sure he doesn’t forget anything, taking one last glance at Chanyeol before shutting the bedroom door and padding into the living room.
And just like that, he leaves.
Three weeks go by.
Baekhyun had ended up skipping that first week of lectures, until Jongdae and Lu Han managed to knock some sense into him, and he reluctantly had dragged himself to university, making sure to steer clear of Chanyeol. The younger doesn’t show up to their few shared courses, and Baekhyun thinks himself lucky that Chanyeol’s probably just under the weather on the days he chooses to come in.
It isn’t that he doesn’t want to see him; it’s the opposite that’s driving him away.
Baekhyun isn’t supposed to want to see Chanyeol, and the very thought is scaring him. Park Chanyeol isn’t supposed to be someone Baekhyun can see any future with, so he doesn’t know why he keeps visualizing spending days wrapped in his arms, or hanging out together; he doesn’t care, so long as they’re together.
It’s become an attachment, and he wants-no-needs it to stop.
“He keeps calling you?”
Baekhyun nods glumly, shoving his phone to the side so Jongdae can take a look. The elder scrolls the list of missed calls, eyes widening at the number displayed to the side of Chanyeol’s name.
“Baekhyun, this isn’t healthy,” Lu Han says, hand coming to rest gently on top of his. “You should talk to him.”
“And tell him what? I ran away because it was getting too serious?”
Jongdae and Lu Han share a look before the latter merely shrugs and says, “Yeah.” Baekhyun rolls his eyes and leans his head back down on the tops of his knees. He hugs his legs close to his chest as he rocks himself back and forth slightly, “I hate Park.”
“I think the problem is that you love him,” Jongdae corrects, and Baekhyun snorts.
“I don’t love Park.”
“But you like him,” Lu Han adds in, and Baekhyun can’t find the words to disagree.
Yeah, I like him.
The phone call comes in the early afternoon, and Baekhyun takes a quick glance at the caller ID to double check it isn’t Chanyeol.
“Mom?” Baekhyun says warily, because it’s not like he isn’t glad to hear from his mother, but whenever they do talk it’s never by phone call, and his composure turns cautious.
“Baekhyun?” Her voice breaks, and Baekhyun’s immediately on edge, teeth biting down onto his bottom lip. “Baekhyun, I’m so sorry.” She’s crying and Baekhyun’s grip on the phone tightens.
“Mom? What’s wrong, what’s happening?” He can hear her sobs and he waits, his breath shortening with every inhale.
It seems like hours have passed when his mother finally speaks, her crying toned down slightly, and the words are quiet and cracked, but Baekhyun hears them as loud as ever.
“Your, your granddad…”
He doesn’t even need his mother to finish the rest of the sentence, composure crumbling as he manages to choke out a, “I have to go, mom,” before he’s ending the call, letting his phone fall to the floor as he yanks his front door open.
Baekhyun wanders around the city, not really sure where he’s going or what time it is. Night’s already fallen and he has no way to know just how late it is because his phone is back at the apartment. He’s stumbled into three bars on the way to nowhere, thankful he had his wallet on him for cash, and things are dizzy but somehow the cold air is heightening his would-be-lowered senses, and he doesn't feel as drunk as he should.
The alcohol should be numbing the pain, but there are still blades in his throat, slicing him up from the inside, and all he wants is to cry. He wants to feel something other than the uncontrollable pain that’s taking shelter in him, curling up and settling down like it belongs.
His grandfather’s health hadn’t been good recently, but Baekhyun always wanted, always believed that he would make it through.
He breaks into a jog, running past the park and making a sharp corner. His feet are leading him, and he lets them take him somewhere familiar, the trees passing by a blur as he sprints to somewhere he hasn’t been in a long time.
A loud knocking wakes Chanyeol up and he slips on a shirt before flicking on the living room lights, making his way groggily to the front door. The last person he expects to see is Baekhyun, and yet there he is, out of breath and extremely dishevelled, and Chanyeol is frozen, so shocked at what to do, so he lets Baekhyun step in and shut the door.
Hands are curled in the front of his shirt and he’s pulled down into a kiss, and Chanyeol can smell the alcohol inches before their lips even meet. Baekhyun’s hands are hastily fumbling at his clothes, and it’s when Baekhyun whispers into his mouth, “I need you,” do Chanyeol’s senses flick back on and he pushes him away, anger crossing his eyes automatically.
“Byun, what the fuck are you doing?” He spits out, willing himself to keep up his front even at the sight of teary-eyed Baekhyun.
“Park, come on,” Baekhyun tries to tease, but his voice sounds more like pleading, and Chanyeol catches the slight choke in his words. His resolve falters, and all at once his features soften when he sees a tear roll down his cheek.
“Baek, what’s wrong?” He takes a step towards him, and Baekhyun immediately brings a hand up to wipe at his cheeks.
“Nothing, I want to fuck,” he answers, hands reaching out to try and strip Chanyeol of his clothes. He doesn’t let him refuse, doesn’t want to hear him say no, sealing their lips with an open-mouthed kiss as he attempts to get his pants off.
Chanyeol pushes him away, “W-wait, seriously Baek,” as he runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “You can’t… you can’t do this. You can’t just leave me hanging, just up and leave with nothing, and expect me to still be here. I’m not some toy you can just use at will.”
Baekhyun’s pout morphs into something ugly, and he glares at Chanyeol, his grief transforming into anger as his voice rises, “You agreed-we both agreed on what this was, Park. Plain sex. No feelings; no strings attached. Don’t try and make me feel bad about how this isn’t going to be something more.”
“And what if I want more, Baek? What if I always wanted more?” Chanyeol says, and it’s not like he’s expecting an answer. “Don’t you know-can’t you see that I-I like you?” His sounds tired, defeated, almost, and he’s asking for something Baekhyun knows he can’t give.
So for the last time, Baekhyun turns and leaves, presenting his exit as a reply.
Jongdae and Lu Han come with to the funeral, standing beside Baekhyun dressed all in black as they watch the coffin get lowered into the ground. They’ve both known Baekhyun for a long time, Lu Han being there when Baekhyun’s grandmother passed away, and they know what he’s like.
He isn’t going to cry, because Baekhyun doesn’t show emotion like this. He displays grief in other ways, through anger or silence or false happiness.
Chanyeol doesn’t call or text anymore, and Baekhyun wants to tell himself it’s for the better things never moved forward. Despite everything that’s happened over the past few months, Baekhyun doesn’t want to believe he could be happier with him. Any of Chanyeol’s things he’s left at Baekhyun’s end up thrown in a box, blanket draped over it so Baekhyun’s eyes don’t drift over and he’s reminded. He’s left some of his own possessions at Chanyeol’s, and he’s come to terms he isn’t going to see his favourite scarf or Space Invaders snapback.
One day Baekhyun finally musters enough courage to go by his place, dropping the box off at his front door before he’s sprinting the opposite direction to make sure he doesn’t run into him.
Park Chanyeol is simply a bump in the road, and Baekhyun needs to drive on.
“Guys, I really don’t feel like going anywhere.”
“The only time you ever leave your room is for class, Baekhyun, come on,” Jongdae tugs on his arm, and Baekhyun reluctantly gets pulled along.
His exams ended a few days ago, but still he felt like staying at home, wrapped up in a blanket as the hours ticked by, his resolve to do something-anything-lost. Lu Han and Jongdae tried their best to celebrate, suggesting anything from a club night to staying at home and watching Harry Potter, but Baekhyun rejected them all, seeking comfort in his solitude.
It’s a miracle they’ve managed to drag him out today, but they both figure it’s been more than enough time. The two of them haven’t seen their best friend in literal weeks, almost closing in on a month.
“We’re almost there,” Lu Han tries to assuage Baekhyun, and his eyebrows raise when he sees a familiar hat on a very familiar head of hair with a familiar scarf wrapped around the person’s neck, and his first instinct is to run. He tries to book it, only to be grabbed by Jongdae and Lu Han, holding him back as they spin him around and literally drag him towards the bench.
“Oh hey, Byun,” Chanyeol tries to happily greet him, and it’s the first time Baekhyun has seen such nervousness on his face.
“Hi… Park.”
He doesn’t notice Jongdae or Lu Han slink away until the silence between the two of them has stretched into a good minute, and he turns his head to figure out where the hell his so-called friends went. Baekhyun makes a note to maim them later.
“Um, listen-“
“No, Chanyeol, let me talk first,” Baekhyun interrupts, missing the way something flickers in Chanyeol’s eyes at the mention of his name. “I’m sorry, for everything. Dropping your stuff off like that too, that was really shitty of me. But this thing, whatever it is between us, can’t h-“
“Baek,” Chanyeol cuts him off, grabbing his hand and Baekhyun’s wide eyes shoot up, “I want to say sorry. Lu Han and Jongdae told me about your grandfather, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry I yelled at you, and wasn’t by your side.”
Baekhyun takes a deep breath, keeping quiet.
“But I want to say this now, and I need to: I like you. I actually like you a lot, you idiot. I have, for a while. Before we started this whole benefits thing, before the first we even slept together.”
“W-wait what?”
“Ever since I saw you in freshman year,” Chanyeol starts to explain, a little nervous laugh making its way past his lips, “I thought you were a girl, not going to lie.” Baekhyun’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say anything, letting Chanyeol continue, “But then after figuring out you did have a dick, that still didn’t make me want you any less. I know I showed it in a really bad way, but I didn’t know how else to approach you.”
“And simply trying to start a normal conversation never crossed your mind?”
“I tried!” Chanyeol defends himself, “But whenever you saw me coming, you just flipped me off and wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise.”
Baekhyun bites down on his bottom lip, not denying it, “And at first, I thought I only wanted you for your ass, because seriously, Byun, finest ass this side of the continent-“
“Park,” Baekhyun warns, despite the blush rising to his cheeks.
“Right, right,” Chanyeol shakes his head, getting back to topic, “but I think the more I tried to get into your pants, the more I started to actually want you, just for you.” Chanyeol sticks his hand out, a familiar bottle of chocolate milk in his gloved hand as he bows his head down.
“So,” he takes a deep breath, “this is me telling you I like you. Properly. Laying down my cards and confessing.”
The sight of Chanyeol with Baekhyun’s hat on, and red and brown scarf wrapped around his neck should be amusing, but Baekhyun finds that he likes it, and the corner of his mouth twists as he tiptoes up to grab the snapback off his head.
He turns it over in his hand, mulling things in his mind, “But Park, we can’t happen. This,” he motions between the two of them, “is just, not something that can happen. We’re too different and-“
“Baekhyun, look at me,” Chanyeol lifts his chin up, placing the chocolate milk in his hand as he stares deep into his eyes. “You want this to happen. Just, let it.”
His voice is soft and gentle, and before he knows it, Chanyeol is leaning in and pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss. Baekhyun knows Chanyeol is right, and it’s killing him because how could Park Chanyeol be the more mature one of the two and tell it to him straight. He doesn’t know what he wants to do, because the thought of Chanyeol and him together is still frightening and his gut is telling him to look the other way, but the answer comes when Chanyeol is about to pull away, and Baekhyun holds onto him, kissing harder as he tilts his head.
“Is this… are you saying yes to this?” Chanyeol asks breathily when they finally separate, and Baekhyun rolls his eyes as he watches his face break into a smile.
Baekhyun sighs, slightly nodding as he looks up with a similar smile, “Yeah, okay.”
Chanyeol grins, before he remembers Baekhyun’s scarf and quickly removes it, wrapping it tightly around Baekhyun’s own neck.
“C-can we?” He indicates at Baekhyun’s hand, and he rolls his eyes, giving in anyways as Chanyeol’s fingers come to clasp at his. They start to walk towards wherever Chanyeol is taking them, the silence between them comfortable until Chanyeol opens his mouth, “I knew you couldn’t resist my charm.”
Baekhyun whacks him in the stomach, handing him back the bottle, “By the way, this drink tastes absolutely shit.”
“Park! Penguin is pawing at the legs of your bed!” Baekhyun yells from the bedroom, and Chanyeol quickly runs in, big hands dwarfing the kitten as she creates more teeth marks in the wood.
“Shit. Bad Panda!” Chanyeol scolds, and Baekhyun’s mouth curls up into a smile.
“Panda? What happened to Penguin?” He walks on his knees to the edge of the bed, Chanyeol’s shirt ending just slightly past mid-thigh.
“Oh,” Chanyeol blushes, and Baekhyun looks shocked because Chanyeol is blushing. “I changed her name after your suggestion.” He scurries out of the room as soon as he finishes his sentence, Panda meowing in his hands as he puts her outside.
Baekhyun waits until Chanyeol’s back in the room, bedroom door closed, until he opens his mouth again, “And why is that?”
“I don’t know,” Chanyeol shrugs, “I liked the name better.”
“Are you sure?” Baekhyun grins, motioning for Chanyeol to come closer as he starts to unbutton his shirt. Chanyeol smirks, grabbing Baekhyun by the hips as he presses a kiss on the side of his neck.
“Maybe it was because then I could say you named her,” Chanyeol says against his skin, “so she could be, well, sort of ours.”
Baekhyun blushes, and Chanyeol makes sure to kiss every red spot away as he slowly starts to undress.
“You know, Byun,” Chanyeol begins, chest heaving post-sex as he stares hard into his eyes like he’s about to say something deathly serious. It figures that all that comes out is, “your ass is seriously the best I’ve ever had.”
Baekhyun simply rolls his eyes.
“Shut the fuck up, Park.”
//
they could have fucked more tbh.