abandoned fics/wips
came across some old abandoned wips on my computer and i'm not really sure what i want to do with them. so i'll just post them here and people can read them if they want. keep in mind that these are unfinished.
hunhan - campfire stories
Lu Han talks in questions. It’s the first thing Sehun notices about him that isn’t a physical trait, that doesn’t have to do with the half-chewed look of his lips or the way his hair tufts out around the tops of his ears, or the tiny indentations on the bridge of his nose where his glasses must rest when he wears them. At first Sehun is worried he’ll have to decipher little cryptic messages, like he did when they read Jabbawocky in his English class last year. But there are no riddles. Lu Han doesn’t make up words. He just talks like he’s asking permission, like he doesn’t know if what he says is right, or good. Like his thoughts are jumbled up and tangled together and he’s not sure he’s got them straight when they leave his mouth.
Ironically, he never comes across as unsure of himself. It’s just his words that are affected.
“I had this boyfriend back home, yeah?” Lu Han says, his voice just barely loud enough to hear over the snaps and crackles of the thin sticks they’d fed the fire earlier. “He cheated on me though. Said he was high and didn’t realize what he was doing?”
“I’m sorry,” Sehun says, because he’s not really sure how he’s supposed to respond to that.
Lu Han shrugs, takes a drag from his cigarette and coughs while he blows the smoke over their heads.
“I don’t blame him or anything. We were both so messed up at the time. I’d have fucked someone else too, if I’d had the chance? I don’t know.”
The sand is still warm under his bare feet, though the sun had dipped below the horizon hours ago.
Sehun had never really understood the concept of sensuality, had never really experienced the gray area between complete disinterest and full on sexual arousal. He’d never thought about sex in a soft way, had never fantasized about light touches and open gazes. Lu Han makes him think about it though, as he watches the way Lu Han’s lip disappears between his teeth, the way he stares into the fire, like he wants to reach out to touch it, to let the flames lick at his fingers, curl around his wrist and slide up his arm. Like he’d let it pull him in, engulf him completely.
He wonders what else Lu Han would let consume him like that.
hooker!Chanyeol
Kris is the son of a well-off political figure from Vancouver who overpays for room service and likes it when Chanyeol begs for his cock.
“It’s the voice more than anything else,” Kris explained once, before Chanyeol had even realized they were on real speaking terms, handing over a wad of cash and looking as nonchalant as ever, even though he was only dressed in an open bathrobe and still had one black sock on. Kris was one of Chanyeol’s better-looking clients, but he never seemed too concerned with Chanyeol’s opinion of him. Chanyeol thinks that’s probably part of the reason he likes the guy so much.
The other part is that Kris never pays with a credit card, only in cash. The arrangement works out well for the both of them. Kris doesn’t want to be identified through any system-Chanyeol figures he probably has a reputation or something that he can’t risk tarnishing-and cash doesn’t leave a paper trail. And without that trail, Chanyeol is free to keep everything. If the agency knew how much Kris was willing to pay, they’d certainly try to milk Chanyeol for all he was worth.
So Chanyeol leaves his personal cell number on the table just inside the door to Kris’s penthouse the first chance he gets and tries his hardest to look guilty when he explains to the agency why he thinks he lost another client.
-
He gets called in as a joke for some kid’s 18th birthday party by a bunch of barely legal douche-bags. He knows it will be about as profitable as dancing on the side of the street, but he goes anyway because he doesn’t have anything else lined up for the night and his electric is due at the end of the week.
He doesn’t make them flash their IDs when he gets to the hotel room, but they do it anyway. There are a group of girls on their way, one of birthday boy’s friend’s whispers to him when he steps inside-“So if you could just get in and scare him a little and then get the hell out, that’d be great.”
No one has to tell him twice.
Only thing is, he ends up staying because the kid is already drunk enough to admit that he might want to, maybe, try getting his dick sucked by a guy for once. Chanyeol is gentle, swirls his tongue around the head and opens the back of his throat up before swallowing and humming around it softly. He can tell the kid is a virgin and he remembers what it was like the first time someone else touched his dick. He might have felt like he was taking advantage if he hadn’t been the one getting paid for this.
After the kid spills down his throat, a drink is shoved into his hand and he doesn’t hesitate to wash the taste of spunk from his tongue. It’s light beer, cheap as hell, probably because all the money had been spent on the hotel room and prostitutes.
“Sehun,” the kid introduces himself as a few minutes later. He’s got a lisp that’s probably a direct product of his underbite and Chanyeol wonders if it’s as noticeable when he’s sober.
“Happy birthday,” he says in response, honestly surprised when Sehun presses up next to him, and he’s almost as tall as Chanyeol, almost as broad. He’s tighter though, stands like he hasn’t quite figured out what to do with all his limbs so he just keeps them tucked into himself. He’d be sexy as hell in a few years once he came into his own a little more.
hunhan - campfire stories
Lu Han talks in questions. It’s the first thing Sehun notices about him that isn’t a physical trait, that doesn’t have to do with the half-chewed look of his lips or the way his hair tufts out around the tops of his ears, or the tiny indentations on the bridge of his nose where his glasses must rest when he wears them. At first Sehun is worried he’ll have to decipher little cryptic messages, like he did when they read Jabbawocky in his English class last year. But there are no riddles. Lu Han doesn’t make up words. He just talks like he’s asking permission, like he doesn’t know if what he says is right, or good. Like his thoughts are jumbled up and tangled together and he’s not sure he’s got them straight when they leave his mouth.
Ironically, he never comes across as unsure of himself. It’s just his words that are affected.
“I had this boyfriend back home, yeah?” Lu Han says, his voice just barely loud enough to hear over the snaps and crackles of the thin sticks they’d fed the fire earlier. “He cheated on me though. Said he was high and didn’t realize what he was doing?”
“I’m sorry,” Sehun says, because he’s not really sure how he’s supposed to respond to that.
Lu Han shrugs, takes a drag from his cigarette and coughs while he blows the smoke over their heads.
“I don’t blame him or anything. We were both so messed up at the time. I’d have fucked someone else too, if I’d had the chance? I don’t know.”
The sand is still warm under his bare feet, though the sun had dipped below the horizon hours ago.
Sehun had never really understood the concept of sensuality, had never really experienced the gray area between complete disinterest and full on sexual arousal. He’d never thought about sex in a soft way, had never fantasized about light touches and open gazes. Lu Han makes him think about it though, as he watches the way Lu Han’s lip disappears between his teeth, the way he stares into the fire, like he wants to reach out to touch it, to let the flames lick at his fingers, curl around his wrist and slide up his arm. Like he’d let it pull him in, engulf him completely.
He wonders what else Lu Han would let consume him like that.
hooker!Chanyeol
Kris is the son of a well-off political figure from Vancouver who overpays for room service and likes it when Chanyeol begs for his cock.
“It’s the voice more than anything else,” Kris explained once, before Chanyeol had even realized they were on real speaking terms, handing over a wad of cash and looking as nonchalant as ever, even though he was only dressed in an open bathrobe and still had one black sock on. Kris was one of Chanyeol’s better-looking clients, but he never seemed too concerned with Chanyeol’s opinion of him. Chanyeol thinks that’s probably part of the reason he likes the guy so much.
The other part is that Kris never pays with a credit card, only in cash. The arrangement works out well for the both of them. Kris doesn’t want to be identified through any system-Chanyeol figures he probably has a reputation or something that he can’t risk tarnishing-and cash doesn’t leave a paper trail. And without that trail, Chanyeol is free to keep everything. If the agency knew how much Kris was willing to pay, they’d certainly try to milk Chanyeol for all he was worth.
So Chanyeol leaves his personal cell number on the table just inside the door to Kris’s penthouse the first chance he gets and tries his hardest to look guilty when he explains to the agency why he thinks he lost another client.
-
He gets called in as a joke for some kid’s 18th birthday party by a bunch of barely legal douche-bags. He knows it will be about as profitable as dancing on the side of the street, but he goes anyway because he doesn’t have anything else lined up for the night and his electric is due at the end of the week.
He doesn’t make them flash their IDs when he gets to the hotel room, but they do it anyway. There are a group of girls on their way, one of birthday boy’s friend’s whispers to him when he steps inside-“So if you could just get in and scare him a little and then get the hell out, that’d be great.”
No one has to tell him twice.
Only thing is, he ends up staying because the kid is already drunk enough to admit that he might want to, maybe, try getting his dick sucked by a guy for once. Chanyeol is gentle, swirls his tongue around the head and opens the back of his throat up before swallowing and humming around it softly. He can tell the kid is a virgin and he remembers what it was like the first time someone else touched his dick. He might have felt like he was taking advantage if he hadn’t been the one getting paid for this.
After the kid spills down his throat, a drink is shoved into his hand and he doesn’t hesitate to wash the taste of spunk from his tongue. It’s light beer, cheap as hell, probably because all the money had been spent on the hotel room and prostitutes.
“Sehun,” the kid introduces himself as a few minutes later. He’s got a lisp that’s probably a direct product of his underbite and Chanyeol wonders if it’s as noticeable when he’s sober.
“Happy birthday,” he says in response, honestly surprised when Sehun presses up next to him, and he’s almost as tall as Chanyeol, almost as broad. He’s tighter though, stands like he hasn’t quite figured out what to do with all his limbs so he just keeps them tucked into himself. He’d be sexy as hell in a few years once he came into his own a little more.