drabble set #2
one stroke two stroke
Chanyeol/Kris, 1262
Rowing is a manly sport.
“I’m going to join the rowing team.”
Kyungsoo looks up from his food, slapping away Baekhyun’s hands when he tries to snatch up his cupcake-the last cupcake from the caf-and blinking at Chanyeol. “Oh?” He says, gentle frown on his face, “and may I ask, why?”
Chanyeol rolls his eyes, as if the answer should be obvious. “Kris Wu is the captain.” He waves around his fork, topped with a piece of chicken. Kyungsoo eyes it warily. “If I show him how kickass I am at his sport, then he’ll totally let me jump his bones.”
Kyungsoo’s jaw actually drops. “That is the wo-”
“I’ll come too,” Jongdae interrupts, licking pizza grease from his fingers, “Jongin’s on the team and I’ve been trying to fuck him since freshman year.”
“He’s still a freshman,” Kyungsoo deadpans. They’re only halfway through the first semester.
Jongdae nods. “Exactly.” He then leans over to high five Chanyeol. Kyungsoo closes his eyes as the two try to remember practice times and slams his fist into Baekhyun’s arm when the other makes to grab his cupcake again, grinning at his friend’s yowl of pain.
-
“There are three distinct movements,” Kris shouts to the gathered freshmen with a few upperclassmen here and there. “Watch me.” He settles onto the rowing machine and demonstrates the motions, calling out each movement.
Chanyeol groans. “Do you see his arms?” He demands, watching as the team captain completes yet another full row. He feels like applauding the man.
“Who cares?” Jongdae snaps. “Where the hell is Jongin?”
Chanyeol looks around. “Looks like this is a newbie practice. Didn’t Jongin do rowing in high school? We probably won’t see him until next week.”
Jongdae curses, loud, and Kris looks their way. Chanyeol makes sure that their eyes meet, grinning when Kris returns his eyes to the rowing machine. Chanyeol nods to himself. He’s got Kris right where he wants him. Hook, line, and sinker.
-
Rowing turns out to be a lot more than just pulling a stick, Chanyeol learns. He doesn’t even think he ran this much for basketball tryouts in high school. Sweating profusely, he pulls hard on the grips, powering through the last few meters, grinning when the screen hits zero. He stands, noting with pride that the others are still going, a few hundred meters behind him, he discovers with glee, sneaking a peek at their screens.
Kris is looking right at him when Chanyeol looks over, and then the captain begins walking his way. Chanyeol puts on his most charming smile, leaning over his screen to give the captain a good look at his defined arms and the bit of his back and neck that can be seen through his muscle shirt.
Kris frowns. “I want quality over quantity,” he states, narrowing his eyes. “You’re sacrificing form for speed, which could bring down the entire team in a race. Next time, pay more attention to the motions. Make sure your legs are fully extended before you bend your arms.” And then he turns and leaves.
Chanyeol’s jaw drops in disbelief. Jongdae cackles from beside him, only 80 meters away from finishing the 6k.
Someone jogs across the gym, stopping at Kris’ side and the two grin at each other. Chanyeol’s hands ball into fists and Jongdae gasps.
“Everyone,” Kris starts, “this is Jongin. He’s a freshman, but he rowed all four years in high school and will be here to make sure you’re all up to form when I’m busy. Also, when we start water practice next week, he’ll be in charge. Jongin did cox in high school and-”
“I’m sorry,” Jongdae interrupts, not even blinking when all eyes land on him, “did you say that Jongin did cocks in high school?”
Jongin frowns. “Um, I acted as a coxswain in high school.” He pauses. “Was that the question?”
“Ah,” Jongdae says, “I heard something else. My bad.”
Jongin continues to shoot Jongdae looks for the rest of practice and Chanyeol simmers with jealousy beside his friend.
-
Rowing is hard. Workouts are a pain and the bruises on his legs from the old, metal tracks in the boat and blisters on his hands from the rowing machines make him wonder if it’s even worth it. But he’s come this far, there’s no turning back now.
Sometimes, Chanyeol’s goal doesn’t seem that far away. More than once, Kris has leaned over him, adjusting his shoulders or grip, large hands lingering on Chanyeol’s skin before he pulls away and goes over to help someone else. So Chanyeol keeps trying.
Other times, he wonders whose bright idea this was.
There is snow on the ground and Chanyeol is freezing in his boots and down coat, wrapping the boats for winter-they’d had to wait until the coaches could find free time to bring them out here and as a result, winter has already started-with good old-fashioned tarps and saran wrap. They’ve got all eight boats done and wrapped, but now Kris and the other coaches are staring at the dock-not a floating one, apparently the team is still trying to acquire one-and Chanyeol has a bad feeling.
“We’ll just start dismantling it as best we can and if someone has to get in there, we’ll just have to deal with it.” Chanyeol hears one of the coaches say and Kris nods before turning and directing those who came to help to start taking apart the dock.
It works, for the most part, until they find that the last bit of the frame is lodged in the sand underwater, and someone’s going to have to go in there, in the thigh-high water, and pull it out.
Jongin steps forward, unzipping his jacket. Chanyeol frowns. They’re making the freshman do it? He stares at the water, shivering slightly as the wind blows past yet again. This seems bad, even to him.
“I’ll do it,” he announces, pulling off his gloves and jacket, shucking off his sweatpants so that he’s just in the tight sports leggings beneath. No one protests as he walks barefoot into the lake, the freezing water like liquid fire on his skin. Before he even reaches the last piece of dock, his legs go numb and Chanyeol bites his lip to stop his teeth from clacking. He shakily pulls the dock free of the sand and pulls it ashore, crumpling to the ground when others grad the dock from him.
Chanyeol rubs his feet with intensity, waiting to feel something other than numbing pain.
“Hey.”
Chanyeol looks up and then Kris is pulling him to his feet, leading him to his car. He sets Chanyeol up in the passenger seat and blasts the heat, watching with sympathy in his eyes as Chanyeol hisses, trying to wiggle his toes.
“That was nice of you,” the man states, fingers tapping on the wheel, “tell you what, I’ll treat you to dinner.”
Chanyeol stops his foot-rubbing to look up. “What?”
Kris rolls his eyes. “You’re very obvious. What, you didn’t think I noticed you staring at me during every single practice?”
Chanyeol scoffs. “Excuse you.”
Kris merely laughs. “Yeah, okay. I’ll tell you what your luck with me is once you’ve actually rowed in a regatta. If you’re not in the top three, you can consider yourself rejected.” He grins at Chanyeol’s aghast expression. “But now, let’s get you something hot, yeah?”
And then Kris goes through a McDonald’s drive-thru and Chanyeol doesn’t think it would be possible to love the man any more than he does right now.
claw marks to the heart
Kris/Sehun, 870
Yifan has no interest in a hybrid. Honest.
“That one’s the only one that hasn’t been claimed yet.”
Yifan follows the finger to a tiny little body, hidden beneath a tattered blanket. He’s only stopping by, to check up on his neighbors finally. A week ago, they’d stopped him on his way to work to tell him that they’d found six abandoned catboys by the side of the road. They’d heard the mewling and found the box, absolutely horrified. They’d immediately called hybrid safety, but the officials had merely checked each infant for disease before telling the elderly couple that they were in charge of the six seemingly newborn hybrids, and then they left.
The couple had taken care of the hybrids for the past week, heavily advertising to find a home for each of the half-feline infants. So far, they’d found five and were still looking for a sixth, but hybrids really are a lot of work and the couple aren’t sure they can even wait another day. They relate this news to Yifan as the blanket on the ground shuffles and then soft mewls begin to fill the room.
The elderly woman sighs as her husband hobbles off with his cane in hand to see what’s wrong. “He’s the runt of the litter,” she whispers to Yifan, eyes soft. “The neediest of the lot. The others can at least crawl now, but the poor dear falls each time.” She sighs, casting her gaze to the ground. “I’m afraid that if we give him to a shelter, he won’t last long.”
They’re bringing whatever is left of the abandoned litter to the shelters tomorrow. She’d told Yifan that earlier.
Yifan prefers not to involve himself with hybrids. It’s a highly controversial issue, the overabundance of the half-human but completely submissive race. They’re not available to buy until they at least reach eighteen, but that’s on the legal side. He’s heard about child hybrids being sold in the black market, tiny little bodies found by the sides of roads.
He doesn’t want to be a part of that.
The mewling grows higher as the old man cradles the catboy to his chest, grabbing a bottle from the counter behind him. The mewling tapers off to happy little hums as the hybrid greedily gulps down the milk and Yifan closes his eyes.
“I’ll take him.”
-
Hybrids mature much faster than human babies, but that just means that Yifan has to deal with crying in the middle of the night, teething, and the terrible twos all in the same month.
He glares at the tiny body in his lap. “You are too much work,” he harrumphs, eyebrows knotted together. The tiny thing laughs delightedly and tries to swipe his face with its little claws and Yifan grumbles, realizing he’ll have to go through the trying process of trying to trim nails once more.
“Sehun probably means devilspawn in some language,” he states, using the name his neighbors had called the hybrid. Names are hard. Yifan is bad at them.
Sehun quickly shows how much of a devilspawn he is by turning Yifan’s house into a pigsty, shooting up like a weed in between terrorizing the man. Once, after a couple years of having the hybrid, Yifan has the kid in a headlock as claws scrabble at his arms and gangly legs try to wrap around his own.
“Runt of the litter,” Yifan forces out, trying to drag the filthy hybrid to the bath. “My ass.”
And then Sehun manages to wedge a leg between Yifan’s and they both go crashing to the ground.
-
Yifan returns home, exhausted. His promotion means a larger paycheck, but also longer hours and an exhausting workload. He just wants to collapse into his bed, but the light in the living room is on. He sticks his head in. “You still up?”
Sehun hums, not looks up from the large book he has in his arms.
Yifan drops his things and trudges over to the couch, where the catboy is curled up, gangly legs folded neatly beneath him. Yifan drops onto the cushions beside him, reaching up to roll a velvety ear between his fingers. Sehun shivers, but doesn’t look up.
“You’re such a crotchety old woman,” the catboy remarks, flipping a page and Yifan recognizes the book. “Who even makes scrapbooks anymore?”
Yifan smiles. “You’re welcome.”
Sehun scoffs, eyes lingering on a picture before he slams the book shut. “If I had known you were attempting photoshoots with me when I was a newborn, I would not have allowed it.”
Yifan laughs.
The catboy pouts, crosses his arms. “Plus, you made me wait. You’re the worst. I’m leaving.”
“Come on,” Yifan says, coaxing the hybrid off the couch, holding both of the smaller hands in his own. “Time for bed.”
Sehun grumbles but follows along, flopping onto the bed when Yifan heads into the bathroom to change. He whines loud and long until Yifan turns the lights off, crawling into bed. Then Sehun shifts, wiggling in front of Yifan, nestling his head beneath the man’s chin.
Yifan tiredly cards his fingers through soft, thin strands of hair and thinks that, among all his split-second decisions, Sehun is by far his best.
it's just a jump to the left
Tao/Chanyeol, 1082
Chanyeol has had good ideas. This is not one of them.
“You want me to what?” Tao asks, clearly enunciating each syllable so that his Korean bandmate can better understand his perplexity. Joonmyun told him cleaner speech was the key to communication, and Tao figures he needs to pull out all the stops for this.
“It’s a huge thing in China, Taozi,” Chanyeol begins, undeterred by the younger’s lack of enthusiasm, “it’s called a somersault kiss. I can show you a video. Basically you get a tall, macho base-me-and a lithe little gazelle-you-and then it’s just a flip and a twist and bam! Somersault kiss!”
Tao isn’t going to lie. He’s scared. First by the mention of a flip and a twist and now by the flippant way that Chanyeol had mentioned a kiss. He’d been warned about this kind of thing from Joonmyun. Something about how group showers were okay, but group saliva exchange was not. Tao understood, but he doesn’t think Sehun or Jongin did, because he sees them in the stairwell sometimes and wonders what exactly Joonmyun meant by keeping one’s mouth to oneself.
“But we can skip that last part,” Chanyeol interjects, as if reading Tao’s mind. “So, are you in or are you in?”
Tao looks around nervously, searching for a way out. Jongin’s the only other one in the room, but he’s napping and in which case he’d be about as useless awake as he is now. If Tao could just get to the bedroom, he knows that Sehun’s watching a movie in there, and Tao could serve as a bolster and the younger would glare at Chanyeol until the older left. “Can’t you ask anyone else?” He tries instead.
“But Tao,” the brunet whines, pulling the best sad puppy face Tao’s ever seen, “I already tried! I figured out who would be the best for this and I asked everyone. Well, except Minseok. But Luhan wouldn’t let me get close enough. Tao, please. It’s a great exercise and it would be great for your back and-”
Tao lets the Korean fade into dull gibberish as he contemplates. Well, it’s not as if he’s doing anything at the moment, but he’s still not exactly sure what Chanyeol’s asking him to do. Then again, Kris and Joonmyun are always promoting group activities, and he supposes this counts. “Alright,” he says, standing slowly, “what are we doing?”
“Tao you are the literal best you were always my favorite like screw Jongdae and Baekhyun they don’t know what real fun is you, my friend, are the bomb diggity.” When Tao blinks in response, Chanyeol rightly assumes that his rapid thanks was entirely lost on the younger Chinese boy. “Um, right. Well I figured we could go to the practice rooms, because of space.”
Tao nods. “You lead.”
They reach the building in no time at all, making their way up familiar stairs, following the path that’s been beaten into them after years of hard work and the resulting sleepless nights spent hiking up and down flights of steps, commands from instructors echoing in their ears.
Chanyeol picks out an empty room in the back, dropping his bag onto the ground and grinning at Tao, who closes and locks the door behind them. Just in case. He watches as Chanyeol digs through the rucksack and pulls out a camera. “Um.”
“I need video evidence,” Chanyeol states matter-of-factly, tone serious as he sets up the tripod, “Jongdae didn’t think I’d be able to do it. I’m going to prove him wrong.” He turns on the device with a loud beep and then turns to Tao. “Let’s do this.”
“I need to stretch first,” Tao objects weakly, lowering himself into a crouch, waiting until Chanyeol sighs and gives him a nod before he lowers himself all the way down and into a straddle. He goes through the motions, aware of Chanyeol’s impatient gaze and it brings an embarrassed flush to his cheeks. “Okay,” he says quietly, “I’m ready.”
“Great!” Chanyeol whips his phone out of his pocket and hops over to Tao, “so as you can see, you start out upside down. Then I pull, you twist, try not to kick me, and ta da! Kiss somersault. Minus the kiss, of course.”
“Of course,” Tao repeats weakly, watching as the couple on the screen fail and the girl knocks her head on the floor. He stares at the hard ground of the studio. Chanyeol notices.
“Want me to bring out the mats?”
Tao nods.
While Chanyeol covers every inch of the hardwood floor in puffy blue foam, Tao familiarizes himself with the movements. It’s not the hardest thing he’s ever done, he’s just used to individual tricks, not pair routines. He cheers himself on mentally and when he looks up, Chanyeol’s covered every inch of the floor in blue.
“You ready?” Chanyeol asks, cracking his knuckles and grinning in anticipation.
Tao calmly folds himself in half, limp hands dragging on the floor by his feet. He hears rather than sees Chanyeol approach and then he feels something digging into his back. Oh. Um. Tao clears his throat.
“Before we do anything else, I think I should get one thing across.” Chanyeol reaches around Tao to grab his hands and pull them behind him, through his open legs. “No homo.” Tao chokes and then Chanyeol is clasping their hands together. He’s never really noticed the slight differences in Chanyeol that make him just that tiny bit taller that Tao, the way his chest is less muscular but more broad, sturdy against Tao's back.
He doesn't have any more time to think about that though, because he's being tugged back and Chanyeol's old shoes are disappearing from view.
Tao tries to remember the video, long legs widening around Chanyeol's arms and then tightening at his waist, keeping Tao upright.
Oh. They did it.
Chanyeol's staring at him, grin wide and a tad proud as he supports Tao's wright without issue. And he just looks so... well, Tao can't explain it, but whatever it is has him leaning in, pressing his lips to Chanyeol's for the briefest of moments.
"Whoa," Chanyeol says, staring at Tao. Their hands are are still clasped together and Tao's thighs are firmly locked around Chanyeol's waist. "You know what? Next time we do this, we should do it naked."
Tao groans, leans back and thinks no, this probably isn't something Joonmyun would have wanted but...
"Okay."
surprise!
Chanyeol/Suho, mpreg, 993
Joonmyun is fearless alpha. Sort of.
Joonmyun is strong. He is a mighty alpha, the leader of his pack. In the face of danger he laughs, and when times get hard, he is the anchor that holds his brothers-his family-together. He is never caught by surprise, always one step ahead of his opponent. That is why Joonmyun is one hell of an alpha.
“You’re what?” Joonmyun squeaks, not sure he’d heard right.
Chanyeol squirms across from him, staring at the ground and holding his hands clasped together in his lap. “I’m, um, pregnant.”
Joonmyun’s eyes could not possibly open any wider. He thanks the heavens that it’s only him and Chanyeol in the den, the rest out hunting, because he doesn’t know what the others would think if they saw him like this. “What?” He repeats. “How?”
“Well, you know,” Chanyeol starts, nervous smile pulling at his lips, “there was that one time in the lake, you remember? Or the next day, when we were in the forest under the full moon. But, it could have been a couple weeks ago in the den when the others were-”
“OKAY!” Joonmyun interrupts, throwing his hands over his mates’ (he can’t stand fiddling, one of Chanyeol’s nervous tendencies) and staring him in the eyes. “Got it. But, I mean, I thought that you couldn’t…?” He tapers off. When Joonmyun had first tried courting the tall omega, the younger had informed him with halting, whispered words that he’d never had a complete, normal heat and that, as a result, he probably wouldn’t ever be able to give Joonmyun any children. Joonmyun had smiled, kissed away his tears, and told him that it was okay, that Joonmyun wanted Chanyeol regardless of whether or not he could carry pups or not. Chanyeol had smiled at that, burying his face into Joonmyun’s neck and nuzzling into the alpha’s pulse point. They had stayed like that all night. But now-
Chanyeol shrugs. “I don’t know. But, I am.” His eyes suddenly glimmer with excitement and he scoots closer, deftly pulling his hands from Joonmyun’s hold and lifting his shirt. “Feel!”
Hesitantly, Joonmyun scoots forward, slowly placing one hand on the bared stomach. He sucks in a breath. Chanyeol’s stomach has always been soft-toned from years of hunting and relatively tame play-fights, but soft. Now, under Joonmyun’s hand, it’s firm and already rounding, a small bump above Chanyeol’s pelvis. In only a few months, Joonmyun can imagine it protruding out, over Chanyeol’s toes, round with his and Joonmyun’s pup.
When Joonmyun looks up, Chanyeol’s grinning. He lays a hand atop Joonmyun’s and leans in until his mouth is beside the alpha’s ear. “I can’t be sure yet,” he whispers, “but I think there’s more than one.”
Joonmyun can feel a sob building in his throat. He pushes it down, clearing his throat. “You can’t shift anymore,” he states firmly, pulling back and staring Chanyeol in the eye. “And you’ll have to be careful outside. No more sparring with Baekhyun or Jongdae.” A tiny bit of fear trickles into his gut. “And, if any other packs come sniffing around, you need to hide as far in the den as you can. Absolutely no fighting.”
Chanyeol laughs. “Then, I suppose it’s a good thing that I’ve got such a strong omega to look after me.”
Joonmyun nods, face serious, then his attention drifts back to the hand he still has placed on Chanyeol’s abdomen. His throat suddenly feels thick, eyes starting to burn. “Chanyeol,” he starts, voice raspy all of a sudden, “we’re going to have pups.”
Chanyeol grins, pulling Joonmyun in close as the alpha begins to sob, running his hand up and down as the man clutches at his back, muffling sobs into Chanyeol’s chest. The omega makes gentle hushing sounds, hiding his smile in his mate’s hair. “Yeah,” he whispers, “we are.”
-
Chanyeol wakes up in the middle of the night and has to carefully extricate himself from Joonmyun’s tight hold before he can make his way out of the den, into the cool night air. He takes a deep breath and his shoulders relax.
“How did he take it?”
Chanyeol turns to Minseok. The beta is on watch for the night, curled up by the entrance of the den. He shrugs. “Better than I thought he would,” the omega admits.
Minseok nods. “Did he cry?”
Chanyeol debates releasing that information, but nods after a moment.
Minseok groans. “He’s going to be a complete mess from now on.” He pauses, mouth thinning into a line. “I mean, not that he wasn’t before but, now that we’re going to have a few,” he looks to Chanyeol for confirmation, “new additions to the pack, he’s going to be off the walls.”
Chanyeol laughs, throwing a hand over his mouth when he remembers that his packmates are asleep. “Don’t worry, I’ll look after him,” he assures the beta who sighs in relief. “Besides, you’re one to talk. Don’t you have your hands full with Sehun?”
Minseok groans, clawing at his face. “Ugh, don’t remind me.”
Chanyeol merely allows a triumphant grin to spread across his face before he bids the beta goodnight with a yawn, heading back into the warm den. When he lies down beside Joonmyun, his mate immediately responds, rolling over in his sleep and throwing his limbs over Chanyeol. The alpha does his best despite Chanyeol’s size to tuck the omega into his front, but it doesn’t quite work out. With a huff, the alpha drops his head down onto Chanyeol’s chest and goes still. Chanyeol grins, pressing a kiss to his mate’s head, eyes drifting to where the alpha has a possessive hand over Chanyeol’s stomach.
He nuzzles into Joonmyun and sighs, closing his eyes. “Goodnight,” he whispers, not only to his mate, but also to their unborn pups. When Chanyeol does fall asleep, it’s with a huge grin pulling on his lips and a hand atop Joonmyun’s.
Chanyeol/Kris, 1262
Rowing is a manly sport.
“I’m going to join the rowing team.”
Kyungsoo looks up from his food, slapping away Baekhyun’s hands when he tries to snatch up his cupcake-the last cupcake from the caf-and blinking at Chanyeol. “Oh?” He says, gentle frown on his face, “and may I ask, why?”
Chanyeol rolls his eyes, as if the answer should be obvious. “Kris Wu is the captain.” He waves around his fork, topped with a piece of chicken. Kyungsoo eyes it warily. “If I show him how kickass I am at his sport, then he’ll totally let me jump his bones.”
Kyungsoo’s jaw actually drops. “That is the wo-”
“I’ll come too,” Jongdae interrupts, licking pizza grease from his fingers, “Jongin’s on the team and I’ve been trying to fuck him since freshman year.”
“He’s still a freshman,” Kyungsoo deadpans. They’re only halfway through the first semester.
Jongdae nods. “Exactly.” He then leans over to high five Chanyeol. Kyungsoo closes his eyes as the two try to remember practice times and slams his fist into Baekhyun’s arm when the other makes to grab his cupcake again, grinning at his friend’s yowl of pain.
-
“There are three distinct movements,” Kris shouts to the gathered freshmen with a few upperclassmen here and there. “Watch me.” He settles onto the rowing machine and demonstrates the motions, calling out each movement.
Chanyeol groans. “Do you see his arms?” He demands, watching as the team captain completes yet another full row. He feels like applauding the man.
“Who cares?” Jongdae snaps. “Where the hell is Jongin?”
Chanyeol looks around. “Looks like this is a newbie practice. Didn’t Jongin do rowing in high school? We probably won’t see him until next week.”
Jongdae curses, loud, and Kris looks their way. Chanyeol makes sure that their eyes meet, grinning when Kris returns his eyes to the rowing machine. Chanyeol nods to himself. He’s got Kris right where he wants him. Hook, line, and sinker.
-
Rowing turns out to be a lot more than just pulling a stick, Chanyeol learns. He doesn’t even think he ran this much for basketball tryouts in high school. Sweating profusely, he pulls hard on the grips, powering through the last few meters, grinning when the screen hits zero. He stands, noting with pride that the others are still going, a few hundred meters behind him, he discovers with glee, sneaking a peek at their screens.
Kris is looking right at him when Chanyeol looks over, and then the captain begins walking his way. Chanyeol puts on his most charming smile, leaning over his screen to give the captain a good look at his defined arms and the bit of his back and neck that can be seen through his muscle shirt.
Kris frowns. “I want quality over quantity,” he states, narrowing his eyes. “You’re sacrificing form for speed, which could bring down the entire team in a race. Next time, pay more attention to the motions. Make sure your legs are fully extended before you bend your arms.” And then he turns and leaves.
Chanyeol’s jaw drops in disbelief. Jongdae cackles from beside him, only 80 meters away from finishing the 6k.
Someone jogs across the gym, stopping at Kris’ side and the two grin at each other. Chanyeol’s hands ball into fists and Jongdae gasps.
“Everyone,” Kris starts, “this is Jongin. He’s a freshman, but he rowed all four years in high school and will be here to make sure you’re all up to form when I’m busy. Also, when we start water practice next week, he’ll be in charge. Jongin did cox in high school and-”
“I’m sorry,” Jongdae interrupts, not even blinking when all eyes land on him, “did you say that Jongin did cocks in high school?”
Jongin frowns. “Um, I acted as a coxswain in high school.” He pauses. “Was that the question?”
“Ah,” Jongdae says, “I heard something else. My bad.”
Jongin continues to shoot Jongdae looks for the rest of practice and Chanyeol simmers with jealousy beside his friend.
-
Rowing is hard. Workouts are a pain and the bruises on his legs from the old, metal tracks in the boat and blisters on his hands from the rowing machines make him wonder if it’s even worth it. But he’s come this far, there’s no turning back now.
Sometimes, Chanyeol’s goal doesn’t seem that far away. More than once, Kris has leaned over him, adjusting his shoulders or grip, large hands lingering on Chanyeol’s skin before he pulls away and goes over to help someone else. So Chanyeol keeps trying.
Other times, he wonders whose bright idea this was.
There is snow on the ground and Chanyeol is freezing in his boots and down coat, wrapping the boats for winter-they’d had to wait until the coaches could find free time to bring them out here and as a result, winter has already started-with good old-fashioned tarps and saran wrap. They’ve got all eight boats done and wrapped, but now Kris and the other coaches are staring at the dock-not a floating one, apparently the team is still trying to acquire one-and Chanyeol has a bad feeling.
“We’ll just start dismantling it as best we can and if someone has to get in there, we’ll just have to deal with it.” Chanyeol hears one of the coaches say and Kris nods before turning and directing those who came to help to start taking apart the dock.
It works, for the most part, until they find that the last bit of the frame is lodged in the sand underwater, and someone’s going to have to go in there, in the thigh-high water, and pull it out.
Jongin steps forward, unzipping his jacket. Chanyeol frowns. They’re making the freshman do it? He stares at the water, shivering slightly as the wind blows past yet again. This seems bad, even to him.
“I’ll do it,” he announces, pulling off his gloves and jacket, shucking off his sweatpants so that he’s just in the tight sports leggings beneath. No one protests as he walks barefoot into the lake, the freezing water like liquid fire on his skin. Before he even reaches the last piece of dock, his legs go numb and Chanyeol bites his lip to stop his teeth from clacking. He shakily pulls the dock free of the sand and pulls it ashore, crumpling to the ground when others grad the dock from him.
Chanyeol rubs his feet with intensity, waiting to feel something other than numbing pain.
“Hey.”
Chanyeol looks up and then Kris is pulling him to his feet, leading him to his car. He sets Chanyeol up in the passenger seat and blasts the heat, watching with sympathy in his eyes as Chanyeol hisses, trying to wiggle his toes.
“That was nice of you,” the man states, fingers tapping on the wheel, “tell you what, I’ll treat you to dinner.”
Chanyeol stops his foot-rubbing to look up. “What?”
Kris rolls his eyes. “You’re very obvious. What, you didn’t think I noticed you staring at me during every single practice?”
Chanyeol scoffs. “Excuse you.”
Kris merely laughs. “Yeah, okay. I’ll tell you what your luck with me is once you’ve actually rowed in a regatta. If you’re not in the top three, you can consider yourself rejected.” He grins at Chanyeol’s aghast expression. “But now, let’s get you something hot, yeah?”
And then Kris goes through a McDonald’s drive-thru and Chanyeol doesn’t think it would be possible to love the man any more than he does right now.
claw marks to the heart
Kris/Sehun, 870
Yifan has no interest in a hybrid. Honest.
“That one’s the only one that hasn’t been claimed yet.”
Yifan follows the finger to a tiny little body, hidden beneath a tattered blanket. He’s only stopping by, to check up on his neighbors finally. A week ago, they’d stopped him on his way to work to tell him that they’d found six abandoned catboys by the side of the road. They’d heard the mewling and found the box, absolutely horrified. They’d immediately called hybrid safety, but the officials had merely checked each infant for disease before telling the elderly couple that they were in charge of the six seemingly newborn hybrids, and then they left.
The couple had taken care of the hybrids for the past week, heavily advertising to find a home for each of the half-feline infants. So far, they’d found five and were still looking for a sixth, but hybrids really are a lot of work and the couple aren’t sure they can even wait another day. They relate this news to Yifan as the blanket on the ground shuffles and then soft mewls begin to fill the room.
The elderly woman sighs as her husband hobbles off with his cane in hand to see what’s wrong. “He’s the runt of the litter,” she whispers to Yifan, eyes soft. “The neediest of the lot. The others can at least crawl now, but the poor dear falls each time.” She sighs, casting her gaze to the ground. “I’m afraid that if we give him to a shelter, he won’t last long.”
They’re bringing whatever is left of the abandoned litter to the shelters tomorrow. She’d told Yifan that earlier.
Yifan prefers not to involve himself with hybrids. It’s a highly controversial issue, the overabundance of the half-human but completely submissive race. They’re not available to buy until they at least reach eighteen, but that’s on the legal side. He’s heard about child hybrids being sold in the black market, tiny little bodies found by the sides of roads.
He doesn’t want to be a part of that.
The mewling grows higher as the old man cradles the catboy to his chest, grabbing a bottle from the counter behind him. The mewling tapers off to happy little hums as the hybrid greedily gulps down the milk and Yifan closes his eyes.
“I’ll take him.”
-
Hybrids mature much faster than human babies, but that just means that Yifan has to deal with crying in the middle of the night, teething, and the terrible twos all in the same month.
He glares at the tiny body in his lap. “You are too much work,” he harrumphs, eyebrows knotted together. The tiny thing laughs delightedly and tries to swipe his face with its little claws and Yifan grumbles, realizing he’ll have to go through the trying process of trying to trim nails once more.
“Sehun probably means devilspawn in some language,” he states, using the name his neighbors had called the hybrid. Names are hard. Yifan is bad at them.
Sehun quickly shows how much of a devilspawn he is by turning Yifan’s house into a pigsty, shooting up like a weed in between terrorizing the man. Once, after a couple years of having the hybrid, Yifan has the kid in a headlock as claws scrabble at his arms and gangly legs try to wrap around his own.
“Runt of the litter,” Yifan forces out, trying to drag the filthy hybrid to the bath. “My ass.”
And then Sehun manages to wedge a leg between Yifan’s and they both go crashing to the ground.
-
Yifan returns home, exhausted. His promotion means a larger paycheck, but also longer hours and an exhausting workload. He just wants to collapse into his bed, but the light in the living room is on. He sticks his head in. “You still up?”
Sehun hums, not looks up from the large book he has in his arms.
Yifan drops his things and trudges over to the couch, where the catboy is curled up, gangly legs folded neatly beneath him. Yifan drops onto the cushions beside him, reaching up to roll a velvety ear between his fingers. Sehun shivers, but doesn’t look up.
“You’re such a crotchety old woman,” the catboy remarks, flipping a page and Yifan recognizes the book. “Who even makes scrapbooks anymore?”
Yifan smiles. “You’re welcome.”
Sehun scoffs, eyes lingering on a picture before he slams the book shut. “If I had known you were attempting photoshoots with me when I was a newborn, I would not have allowed it.”
Yifan laughs.
The catboy pouts, crosses his arms. “Plus, you made me wait. You’re the worst. I’m leaving.”
“Come on,” Yifan says, coaxing the hybrid off the couch, holding both of the smaller hands in his own. “Time for bed.”
Sehun grumbles but follows along, flopping onto the bed when Yifan heads into the bathroom to change. He whines loud and long until Yifan turns the lights off, crawling into bed. Then Sehun shifts, wiggling in front of Yifan, nestling his head beneath the man’s chin.
Yifan tiredly cards his fingers through soft, thin strands of hair and thinks that, among all his split-second decisions, Sehun is by far his best.
it's just a jump to the left
Tao/Chanyeol, 1082
Chanyeol has had good ideas. This is not one of them.
“You want me to what?” Tao asks, clearly enunciating each syllable so that his Korean bandmate can better understand his perplexity. Joonmyun told him cleaner speech was the key to communication, and Tao figures he needs to pull out all the stops for this.
“It’s a huge thing in China, Taozi,” Chanyeol begins, undeterred by the younger’s lack of enthusiasm, “it’s called a somersault kiss. I can show you a video. Basically you get a tall, macho base-me-and a lithe little gazelle-you-and then it’s just a flip and a twist and bam! Somersault kiss!”
Tao isn’t going to lie. He’s scared. First by the mention of a flip and a twist and now by the flippant way that Chanyeol had mentioned a kiss. He’d been warned about this kind of thing from Joonmyun. Something about how group showers were okay, but group saliva exchange was not. Tao understood, but he doesn’t think Sehun or Jongin did, because he sees them in the stairwell sometimes and wonders what exactly Joonmyun meant by keeping one’s mouth to oneself.
“But we can skip that last part,” Chanyeol interjects, as if reading Tao’s mind. “So, are you in or are you in?”
Tao looks around nervously, searching for a way out. Jongin’s the only other one in the room, but he’s napping and in which case he’d be about as useless awake as he is now. If Tao could just get to the bedroom, he knows that Sehun’s watching a movie in there, and Tao could serve as a bolster and the younger would glare at Chanyeol until the older left. “Can’t you ask anyone else?” He tries instead.
“But Tao,” the brunet whines, pulling the best sad puppy face Tao’s ever seen, “I already tried! I figured out who would be the best for this and I asked everyone. Well, except Minseok. But Luhan wouldn’t let me get close enough. Tao, please. It’s a great exercise and it would be great for your back and-”
Tao lets the Korean fade into dull gibberish as he contemplates. Well, it’s not as if he’s doing anything at the moment, but he’s still not exactly sure what Chanyeol’s asking him to do. Then again, Kris and Joonmyun are always promoting group activities, and he supposes this counts. “Alright,” he says, standing slowly, “what are we doing?”
“Tao you are the literal best you were always my favorite like screw Jongdae and Baekhyun they don’t know what real fun is you, my friend, are the bomb diggity.” When Tao blinks in response, Chanyeol rightly assumes that his rapid thanks was entirely lost on the younger Chinese boy. “Um, right. Well I figured we could go to the practice rooms, because of space.”
Tao nods. “You lead.”
They reach the building in no time at all, making their way up familiar stairs, following the path that’s been beaten into them after years of hard work and the resulting sleepless nights spent hiking up and down flights of steps, commands from instructors echoing in their ears.
Chanyeol picks out an empty room in the back, dropping his bag onto the ground and grinning at Tao, who closes and locks the door behind them. Just in case. He watches as Chanyeol digs through the rucksack and pulls out a camera. “Um.”
“I need video evidence,” Chanyeol states matter-of-factly, tone serious as he sets up the tripod, “Jongdae didn’t think I’d be able to do it. I’m going to prove him wrong.” He turns on the device with a loud beep and then turns to Tao. “Let’s do this.”
“I need to stretch first,” Tao objects weakly, lowering himself into a crouch, waiting until Chanyeol sighs and gives him a nod before he lowers himself all the way down and into a straddle. He goes through the motions, aware of Chanyeol’s impatient gaze and it brings an embarrassed flush to his cheeks. “Okay,” he says quietly, “I’m ready.”
“Great!” Chanyeol whips his phone out of his pocket and hops over to Tao, “so as you can see, you start out upside down. Then I pull, you twist, try not to kick me, and ta da! Kiss somersault. Minus the kiss, of course.”
“Of course,” Tao repeats weakly, watching as the couple on the screen fail and the girl knocks her head on the floor. He stares at the hard ground of the studio. Chanyeol notices.
“Want me to bring out the mats?”
Tao nods.
While Chanyeol covers every inch of the hardwood floor in puffy blue foam, Tao familiarizes himself with the movements. It’s not the hardest thing he’s ever done, he’s just used to individual tricks, not pair routines. He cheers himself on mentally and when he looks up, Chanyeol’s covered every inch of the floor in blue.
“You ready?” Chanyeol asks, cracking his knuckles and grinning in anticipation.
Tao calmly folds himself in half, limp hands dragging on the floor by his feet. He hears rather than sees Chanyeol approach and then he feels something digging into his back. Oh. Um. Tao clears his throat.
“Before we do anything else, I think I should get one thing across.” Chanyeol reaches around Tao to grab his hands and pull them behind him, through his open legs. “No homo.” Tao chokes and then Chanyeol is clasping their hands together. He’s never really noticed the slight differences in Chanyeol that make him just that tiny bit taller that Tao, the way his chest is less muscular but more broad, sturdy against Tao's back.
He doesn't have any more time to think about that though, because he's being tugged back and Chanyeol's old shoes are disappearing from view.
Tao tries to remember the video, long legs widening around Chanyeol's arms and then tightening at his waist, keeping Tao upright.
Oh. They did it.
Chanyeol's staring at him, grin wide and a tad proud as he supports Tao's wright without issue. And he just looks so... well, Tao can't explain it, but whatever it is has him leaning in, pressing his lips to Chanyeol's for the briefest of moments.
"Whoa," Chanyeol says, staring at Tao. Their hands are are still clasped together and Tao's thighs are firmly locked around Chanyeol's waist. "You know what? Next time we do this, we should do it naked."
Tao groans, leans back and thinks no, this probably isn't something Joonmyun would have wanted but...
"Okay."
surprise!
Chanyeol/Suho, mpreg, 993
Joonmyun is fearless alpha. Sort of.
Joonmyun is strong. He is a mighty alpha, the leader of his pack. In the face of danger he laughs, and when times get hard, he is the anchor that holds his brothers-his family-together. He is never caught by surprise, always one step ahead of his opponent. That is why Joonmyun is one hell of an alpha.
“You’re what?” Joonmyun squeaks, not sure he’d heard right.
Chanyeol squirms across from him, staring at the ground and holding his hands clasped together in his lap. “I’m, um, pregnant.”
Joonmyun’s eyes could not possibly open any wider. He thanks the heavens that it’s only him and Chanyeol in the den, the rest out hunting, because he doesn’t know what the others would think if they saw him like this. “What?” He repeats. “How?”
“Well, you know,” Chanyeol starts, nervous smile pulling at his lips, “there was that one time in the lake, you remember? Or the next day, when we were in the forest under the full moon. But, it could have been a couple weeks ago in the den when the others were-”
“OKAY!” Joonmyun interrupts, throwing his hands over his mates’ (he can’t stand fiddling, one of Chanyeol’s nervous tendencies) and staring him in the eyes. “Got it. But, I mean, I thought that you couldn’t…?” He tapers off. When Joonmyun had first tried courting the tall omega, the younger had informed him with halting, whispered words that he’d never had a complete, normal heat and that, as a result, he probably wouldn’t ever be able to give Joonmyun any children. Joonmyun had smiled, kissed away his tears, and told him that it was okay, that Joonmyun wanted Chanyeol regardless of whether or not he could carry pups or not. Chanyeol had smiled at that, burying his face into Joonmyun’s neck and nuzzling into the alpha’s pulse point. They had stayed like that all night. But now-
Chanyeol shrugs. “I don’t know. But, I am.” His eyes suddenly glimmer with excitement and he scoots closer, deftly pulling his hands from Joonmyun’s hold and lifting his shirt. “Feel!”
Hesitantly, Joonmyun scoots forward, slowly placing one hand on the bared stomach. He sucks in a breath. Chanyeol’s stomach has always been soft-toned from years of hunting and relatively tame play-fights, but soft. Now, under Joonmyun’s hand, it’s firm and already rounding, a small bump above Chanyeol’s pelvis. In only a few months, Joonmyun can imagine it protruding out, over Chanyeol’s toes, round with his and Joonmyun’s pup.
When Joonmyun looks up, Chanyeol’s grinning. He lays a hand atop Joonmyun’s and leans in until his mouth is beside the alpha’s ear. “I can’t be sure yet,” he whispers, “but I think there’s more than one.”
Joonmyun can feel a sob building in his throat. He pushes it down, clearing his throat. “You can’t shift anymore,” he states firmly, pulling back and staring Chanyeol in the eye. “And you’ll have to be careful outside. No more sparring with Baekhyun or Jongdae.” A tiny bit of fear trickles into his gut. “And, if any other packs come sniffing around, you need to hide as far in the den as you can. Absolutely no fighting.”
Chanyeol laughs. “Then, I suppose it’s a good thing that I’ve got such a strong omega to look after me.”
Joonmyun nods, face serious, then his attention drifts back to the hand he still has placed on Chanyeol’s abdomen. His throat suddenly feels thick, eyes starting to burn. “Chanyeol,” he starts, voice raspy all of a sudden, “we’re going to have pups.”
Chanyeol grins, pulling Joonmyun in close as the alpha begins to sob, running his hand up and down as the man clutches at his back, muffling sobs into Chanyeol’s chest. The omega makes gentle hushing sounds, hiding his smile in his mate’s hair. “Yeah,” he whispers, “we are.”
-
Chanyeol wakes up in the middle of the night and has to carefully extricate himself from Joonmyun’s tight hold before he can make his way out of the den, into the cool night air. He takes a deep breath and his shoulders relax.
“How did he take it?”
Chanyeol turns to Minseok. The beta is on watch for the night, curled up by the entrance of the den. He shrugs. “Better than I thought he would,” the omega admits.
Minseok nods. “Did he cry?”
Chanyeol debates releasing that information, but nods after a moment.
Minseok groans. “He’s going to be a complete mess from now on.” He pauses, mouth thinning into a line. “I mean, not that he wasn’t before but, now that we’re going to have a few,” he looks to Chanyeol for confirmation, “new additions to the pack, he’s going to be off the walls.”
Chanyeol laughs, throwing a hand over his mouth when he remembers that his packmates are asleep. “Don’t worry, I’ll look after him,” he assures the beta who sighs in relief. “Besides, you’re one to talk. Don’t you have your hands full with Sehun?”
Minseok groans, clawing at his face. “Ugh, don’t remind me.”
Chanyeol merely allows a triumphant grin to spread across his face before he bids the beta goodnight with a yawn, heading back into the warm den. When he lies down beside Joonmyun, his mate immediately responds, rolling over in his sleep and throwing his limbs over Chanyeol. The alpha does his best despite Chanyeol’s size to tuck the omega into his front, but it doesn’t quite work out. With a huff, the alpha drops his head down onto Chanyeol’s chest and goes still. Chanyeol grins, pressing a kiss to his mate’s head, eyes drifting to where the alpha has a possessive hand over Chanyeol’s stomach.
He nuzzles into Joonmyun and sighs, closing his eyes. “Goodnight,” he whispers, not only to his mate, but also to their unborn pups. When Chanyeol does fall asleep, it’s with a huge grin pulling on his lips and a hand atop Joonmyun’s.