baekhyun/chanyeol; nc-17; ~5,000w; warnings for: breathplay, severe jealousy
baekhyun's jealousy (and horniness) leads to chanyeol's hands pressed up against his throat
Baekhyun doesn’t like the way his skin crawls uncomfortably whenever someone besides himself gives EXO-K’s main rapper any sort of attention. He doesn’t like how, somehow, his hands always end up curled into fists when Chanyeol’s deep rumbling laughter echoes through the room over something that hasn’t come out of his mouth. It pisses him off when their fans scream out Chanyeol’s name as they walk past, not because he’s jealous of the younger member, but because he doesn’t really like the thought of the fans paying him too much attention. And he really fucking hates the way Chanyeol’s entire face lights up whenever a certain Chinese leader is in the vicinity.
--
Baekhyun’s good at holding his breath. He’s a singer, one that's responsible for belting out K’s long-notes, so he kind of has to be. It’s a regular part of vocal training and he and Kyungsoo often have competitions to see who can last longer - it’s not by coincidence that Baekhyun hasn’t lost a single one to date. He prides himself on having a good set of lungs, even if the rest of his body is small and weak. It’s something he has that none of his other eleven band-mates do and even if it’s a rather useless skill, it’s a skill all the same.
It’s more than a skill, he soon comes to find. Phone brightness set to 10% and propped up against his pillow in the dead of the night, a hand shoved down his pants while the other grips his own hair to the point of pain, Baekhyun takes a deep breath in and holds it for the entire fifty seconds that the predebut-Chanyeol lookalike pornstar spends sucking his partner’s dick, all the while fondling his own. He exhales it little by little, with soft breathy sounds that can easily pass off for normal - albeit a little laboured - breathing, should anyone overhear.
Chanyeol stirs a little in the bed next to him and Baekhyun holds his breath again, swallowing down the whimper that rises up his throat. A few more pumps to his dick and Baekhyun’s release makes his body shake at its intensity. The air comes rushing out of his lungs in one long sigh and Baekhyun gasps hungrily with his head buried against his pillow. It’s the fastest he’s ever come and he tells himself it’s because it’s been a long time since he’s last watched that particular video. He doesn’t really want to entertain the idea that holding his breath gets him off. (It’s already hard enough admitting that the thought of fucking his roommate does).
--
Kris is tall, charismatic, effortlessly chic and everything that Baekhyun is not. Apparently having a chronic bitchface and the voice of a seventy year old chain-smoker are grounds for being hailed sex god because that’s exactly what M’s leader is known as, both outside the company and inside. Zitao basically worships the floor he walks on; Luhan and Minseok take his shit even though they’re older than him; Yixing, who is basically perfection personified, happily gives up screen-time so that Kris can grunt out a few dodgy English/Chinese/Korean words, and even the K members love him, flocking to him like obedient little ducklings whenever he's around.
Baekhyun likes him too, if only because Kris buys him circle lenses every time he comes back from China, but he can’t help the flooding waves of jealousy that take over him whenever the man is in sight. In reality though, that’s not always the case. When Kris approaches him and hands over his box of Vassen Barbie Circle Brown lenses with that dumb smile of his, asking how he’s doing, he always replies perfectly nicely that he’s doing great and that he hopes M is doing well too. When Kris gets them lunch and they go out shopping together, Kris picking out cute hair accessories for him and him shoving shirts with varying numbers of X in the sizes at Kris, Baekhyun actually sees the charm and the appeal of the great duizhang. It’s only when they’re back in the presence of the other ten members and a particularly annoying deep-voiced, baby-faced one bounds up to Kris like he’s his number one fan that Baekhyun feels the resentment kicking in full force, because Baekhyun is the only person who’s attention Chanyeol should be vying so desperately for.
--
Rapping is a talent that Baekhyun’s never held much respect for. It doesn’t take a genius to think up a few substance-filled lyrics and it definitely doesn’t take a genius to recite them with angry voices and fast articulation. Kris is probably the sorriest excuse for a rapper he’s seen, one who uses his good looks and killer stares to divert attention from the fact that he sounds like a dying man choking out his last words. Tao is undeniably good, words sharp and fast on his tongue, delivered in a sweet voice that's really quite soothing, if a little too high-pitched for Baekhyun's liking. Kai is a typical idol rapper, delivering his lines with the kind of charisma that causes heart-failure amongst young women, but his flow is weak and there's nothing extraordinary about it. Chanyeol, he thinks, is the sole reason why his negative views on rapping tilt the scale a little less heavily.
All bias aside (he refuses to admit he has a bias in the first place), Chanyeol is the kind of rapper that makes rap almost pleasant to listen to. His tone is deep and husky, the kind used in voice-overs or in those dirty-talk porn videos that Baekhyun used to watch with his friends. His pronunciation is nothing short of perfect, each syllable enunciated with such clarity that there’s no doubt as to what he’s saying like there is with Tao sometimes. Baekhyun listens in on the group's rap practices not because he appreciates the art-form, but because he likes listening to Chanyeol's voice.
During the MAMA album recordings, he used to sit quietly in the corner as Chanyeol recited his lines over and over, eyebrows furrowing in the kind of deep concentration Baekhyun finds endearing. He’s doing the same now, watching from his seat as Chanyeol rolls certain words around in his mouth and tries to match them to the music playing from the speakers. Chanyeol is EXO’s saving grace when it comes to rapping, everyone knows it, so the pressure on him to be perfect is heavy and suffocating.
Baekhyun looks on as he takes a deep breath and signals for the track to restart from the beginning. His words are in perfect sync with the beat, deep and slow and almost arousing in their sensuality. The longer lines come up, one a seven-second non-stop LTE rap that makes Baekhyun breathless just by listening. Chanyeol takes in a deep breath and delivers it flawlessly, voice straining almost unnoticeably on the last two words. But if anyone does notice, it's Chanyeol. He cuts off abruptly and drops his head down into his hands, finger pulling frustratedly at overgrown brown locks. He’s too much of a perfectionist, really; Baekhyun thinks he did wonderfully. He also thinks that maybe there’s more to rapping than he first thought. After all, to rap at that kind of speed, without taking a break to catch a quick breath, requires some pretty strong lungs too.
--
The idea worms itself into his head in the middle of a shower, and once it’s in, it doesn’t leave. He spends every free second he has thinking about large, rough hands pressed up against his throat, and holding his breath has become something of a second nature.
He’s not planning on acting upon it (how do you even go about doing something like that?), but it doesn’t mean he can’t fantasize. Night-times that were previously for catching much needed rest are now filled with painful masturbation sessions with his face pressed against a pillow as his sight fuzzes out around the edges. Sometimes he holds his own hand against his neck, squeezing tightly for a few seconds before letting go in a state of panic. It’s not enough; it’s never enough. It has to be someone else, someone who won’t let go even when his head starts throbbing and his eyes begin to water. He needs the kind of grip that tightens to the extent of pain, real pain, so that he feels like he’s drunk and drowning and on the brink of passing out.
He wants Chanyeol to choke him so badly it hurts, but he knows that asking for something like that would be out of limits.
--
A fast approaching comeback means that Baekhyun spends less time doing as he pleases and more time doing actual idol activities than he’d like. Vocal lessons merge into dance practices merge into acting classes, and when he’s not at the SM building, he’s at the dorm, sat in the living room with his fellow members listening to their manager or their seniors or someone else of a higher ranking giving them advice. Sleep goes from six hours down to four and Baekhyun’s more on edge than ever. He turns the temperature dial in the shower all the way up to maximum and lets the steam fuck with his head. Images of Chanyeol seem to be burned into the back of his eyelids because he sees round eyes and a wide grin and a pretty white throat even when his eyes are squeezed tightly shut. When he can’t get rid of them, he welcomes them, allowing them to slowly drive him insane.
Baekhyun is a singer by default, but his dance skills are no joke either. Within two weeks he’s mastered the new dance routine and within four, he’s dismissed from further practice so that he can concentrate for recording the final cut of the title track. He completes it in two takes and is allowed to go home early for the first time in months. Sehun is the only other member also dismissed early, and they spend a lot of their free time lounging in the living room together.
Baekhyun likes Sehun, really likes Sehun. The younger boy is all pale skin and jutting bones, long limbs splayed out across the floor and face contorted into ridiculously cute expressions. He's the kind of kid Baekhyun can see himself fooling around with, the kind of kid that used to be his ideal type before he realised that he's grown out of his twink phase, just a little. He presses their lips together for the first time almost experimentally but he knows deep inside that he’ll get a response, because the younger member really likes him too, and makes no show of hiding it.
Sehun kisses like a horny teenager, tongue delving deep inside Baekhyun's mouth with all the grace of a drunkard. Baekhyun responds almost lazily, letting Sehun have his way with him. They end up rutting against each other on the floor, Sehun’s fingers dipping so hard into his shoulders that he feels they might break. Sehun only detaches himself when Jongin walks through the door, covered from head to toe in horrifying amounts of sweat as he beelines to the shower. Sehun gravitates towards him immediately, clinging to his side shamelessly as if he wasn’t just dry-humping Baekhyun seconds ago. Baekhyun watches the two enter the bathroom together and fights down the spark of jealousy that ignites within him.
He goes back to his room and braces himself against the wall by the door, a hand travelling into his pants and fingers wrapping themselves firmly around his dick. He doesn't do anything, just keeps them there and squeezes a little. He’s looking for something - what, he doesn’t know - just something to tip him over the edge. His other hand creeps up slowly towards his neck, nervous for some incomprehensible reason. His presses two fingers into the base of his neck, restricting his air flow by a tiny amount. It does nothing to cut off his oxygen supply, but already his body is alight with excitement. This is it; this is what he needs - the feeling of light-headedness, mixed with the euphoria of arousal: to cut off his air supply in the time when he needs it most. He begins pumping his dick with renewed fervour, other hand already aligned with the base of his throat. The thoughts of his impending orgasm leave his lids heavy and his mouth dry.
Chanyeol walks in just as his fingers first begin to dig into his neck, and Baekhyun drops his hand like he's just touched molten iron. Chanyeol is drenched in sweat, even more so than Jongin was, and he’s doubled over and practically wheezing as he tries to catch his breath, seemingly unaware of Baekhyun’s compromising position.
“Late night practice, Jongin killed me,” he coughs out. His voice sounds rough and raw and scratchy and Baekhyun can’t really handle it anymore. He’s hot and he’s bothered and he doesn’t know how to vocalise what he wants. At this point, he’s seriously considering taking it by force. Chanyeol heads over to his bed, still talking about Jongin and dancing, putting in that he’s improved quite a bit and that the official music video shoot will probably take place soon, completely oblivious to the way his roommate is eyeing him hungrily.
“Kris hyung and I have a joint rap recording tomorrow morning, so I have to leave again in like, six hours,” he says with a dry chuckle. “Honestly I should have just stayed there. Kris hyung is going in early so I could have met him there, hung around with him for a while. I miss Kris hyung a lot these days. Can’t wait for tomorrow!”
Baekhyun bites into his lower lip so hard he draws blood.
--
Chanyeol wakes up to hands in his hair and a weight on his chest. He looks sleepily over to his alarm clock only to find that it’s nowhere to be seen.
“Don’t worry, you still have an hour before you have to get ready for your precious Kris hyung,” a voice says. Something in the back of his mind registers the voice as Baekhyun’s, but another part tells him that Baekhyun doesn’t sound like this normally.
“What are you doing?” he asks, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand. He looks up at the figure that’s literally on top of him, and sure enough, it’s his roommate. “Why are you on top of me?” He makes a move to push him off but Baekhyun’s quick to catch his wrists, pinning his arms back down.
“Everything will be a lot easier if you don’t fight me,” he says. The rows of teeth on display tell Chanyeol that Baekhyun is smiling, but there’s no hint of the smile in his voice. It sounds cold almost; at least, colder than Chanyeol’s ever heard it. He blinks his eyes rapidly a few times and tries to make sense of the situation. The dark look in Baekhyun’s eyes tells him to play along.
“Okay,” he says slowly. His life motto of always smiling like an idiot comes to play because he’s pretty sure an idiot is exactly what he looks like right now, lips curled up into an uneasy grin.
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Baekhyun says. His hands move from Chanyeol’s hands down onto his chest, splaying out against the thin fabric of his sleep-shirt. Chanyeol’s heartbeat quickens a little and he hopes that Baekhyun doesn’t notice. But the little twinkle in his eye as he leans forward has Chanyeol thinking that he does.
“Close your eyes, Chanyeol.”
Chanyeol gulps, but follows through anyway. He takes a deep breath as he waits for Baekhyun’s next move, and when he feels Baekhyun’s lips on his, he’s proud to say he’s expecting it. He kisses back, if only because it’s his body’s natural reaction, and even smiles a bit as he feels Baekhyun getting more into it. Seconds turn to minutes and breathing through his nose is getting a little tiring. He turns his head to the side, indicating that he wants to stop, but Baekhyun simply grabs his face and kisses harder, tongue never separating from Chanyeol’s own. Chanyeol indulges him a little, but there comes a point where the light-headedness becomes too much to take.
He puts his hands on Baekhyun’s shoulders and pushes gently. Baekhyun removes his lips only to reattach them seconds later, kissing with the same enthusiasm, like inside Chanyeol’s mouth lie all of Baekhyun’s hopes and dreams. Chanyeol pushes again, harder this time. His mouth has stilled completely under Baekhyun’s ministrations and his lungs are beginning to ache. Baekhyun falls back with a breathy moan, both boys left gasping for air. Chanyeol looks at Baekhyun questioningly, wanting to know the reason behind the sudden assault. Baekhyun just wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before reclaiming his spot atop Chanyeol’s stomach.
“Again,” he pants, lips already descending on Chanyeol’s but Chanyeol stops him before they can properly touch again. His hands hold onto Baekhyun’s shoulders like his life depends on it and even though his lungs are now full of oxygen, he still has to take another deep breath before he can talk again.
“What’s gotten into you?” he demands, looking at his roommate with worry and compassion. Baekhyun just laughs and fights against Chanyeol’s hold on him.
“Don’t be like this, Chanyeol, just-give me what I want.” His gaze shamelessly drops to Chanyeol’s lips and with a deep groan he surges forward, catching Chanyeol off-guard and succeeding in reconnecting their mouths. Chanyeol lets the kiss go on for surprising long, shrugging off the feeling that something is wrong and giving in to his own desires. It would be a lie to say that Chanyeol’s never thought about kissing Baekhyun - granted, most of his fantasies took place when they were trainees and Chanyeol’s options were very much limited, but he’s always had a thing for the elder boy and it’s not exactly the worst thing to wake up to at 6am.
Baekhyun leans more and more forward until they’re horizontal, Chanyeol lying down on the bed and Baekhyun completely on top of him. He begins to move his hips upwards, lips never leaving Chanyeol’s, and in his half-dazed state, Chanyeol is a beat late in stopping him.
“What are you doing?” he breathes out, pushing Baekhyun’s chest back with an arm and using the other to stop his hips moving. Baekhyun’s lower body is pressed right up against his and Chanyeol can feel the elder’s arousal straining against his stomach.
“Please,” is the only word that leaves Baekhyun’s mouth, over and over as he tries to get some sort of friction. Chanyeol freezes, too scared to move his arms in the event that Baekhyun will attack him again. He wants to enjoy this, wants to feel the pleasure that finally getting to mess around with Baekhyun should bring about, but he doesn’t like how aggressive Baekhyun’s being about the whole thing.
“Baekhyun, is there something wrong?” he asks softly. Baekhyun looks up to meet his eyes and on his face is the meanest expression Chanyeol has ever seen.
“Something wrong?” the elder repeats in a mocking tone. “Yes Chanyeol, something is very wrong. I want to kiss you until I can’t breathe. I want you to put your hands around my neck and choke me. I don’t want to breathe anything but the scent of your skin as you fuck me and I want you to hurt me, really hurt me, so much that I scream and cry.”
His breaths are loud and angry, eyes staring deeply into Chanyeol’s as if daring the younger boy to say something. Chanyeol stares up at him, literally rendered speechless. Baekhyun looks as if he’s on the verge of tears so Chanyeol automatically puts his thumbs under Baekhyun’s eyes, ready to catch them as and when they fall.
“Baekhyun,” he begins, not sure where to go from there. Baekhyun scoffs at his lame attempt at consolation and begins to crawl backwards, pushing against Chanyeol’s hold on his hips.
“Let go of me,” he says in an annoyed tone. Chanyeol doesn’t comply.
“You want me to choke you,” he says. It’s a statement, not a question. Baekhyun’s face burns in response.
“Forget what I said. I’m just tired. Let me go so I can sleep.”
“Choke you, like, squeeze your neck? Hard?” Baekhyun looks up to find Chanyeol staring at him intently, waiting for an answer. With a jolt he realises that Chanyeol’s eyes are trained on his neck, tracing over something there over and over. He finds out what when a tentative finger presses up against the hollow of his throat. “Here?” Chanyeol whispers. Baekhyun gulps.
“Please,” he gasps, clutching onto the finger like it’s a lifeline. Small dainty fingers wrap themselves around long, thicker ones as Baekhyun encourages Chanyeol to put more there. Chanyeol ends up sitting upright against the headrest of his bed, Baekhyun in his lap, with four fingers pressed to the base of Baekhyun’s throat and his thumb digging into the soft skin of his collarbone. “Press,” Baekhyun prompts him, eyes fluttering shut as he tips his head back and exposes more of his neck for Chanyeol to touch. “Press.” he repeats firmly, and his hips begin grinding down slowly onto Chanyeol’s crotch.
The first press is gentle, pressure next to nothing as he feels Baekhyun’s strong pulse under his fingers. Baekhyun hums, and Chanyeol experiments by pressing down harder. The hums die down into moans, long ones that get shorter and shorter as time passes on. The word harder leaves Baekhyun’s lips again and again, and since he’s completely in control of the pace at which they are rutting against each other, Chanyeol can only assume he’s talking about the pressure on his throat.
Chanyeol moves his hand to put it around Baekhyun’s neck properly, chuckling when Baekhyun lets out an eager moan. He squeezes the sides of Baekhyun’s neck this time and, after debating his decision for a few seconds, lets his other hand come up to join it. Baekhyun gives no further indication, nothing but a constant stream of short gasps leaving his mouth, so Chanyeol is left up to his own devices. Baekhyun’s words from earlier come to mind - put your hands around my neck and choke me - and with a deep breath, that’s exactly what he does.
Baekhyun’s eyes fly open and he slows his manic pace down. His hands fall off of Chanyeol’s waist and fly up to cover Chanyeol's hands, softly gripping the wrists his fingers barely fit around. The feeling of pressure building up in his head is immediate, eyes watering within a few dozen seconds. He opens his mouth to take a breath and winces as the tiniest amount of air is let into his airways, Chanyeol’s hands blocking the majority of it. It’s painful, and yet, it feels so good. Chanyeol’s staring intently into his eyes and he stares back, not wanting to lose eye-contact when he finally goes over the edge. The very thought of it being Chanyeol, of it being Chanyeol’s hands that are gripping his neck and it being Chanyeol who very literally holds Baekhyun’s life in his hands is so sinfully arousing that Baekhyun feels waves of pleasure wash over him, dick hardening considerably. His hips are still moving up and down, pointedly slower, but Chanyeol is fast to pick up where he’s slacking off, driving upwards with a force that leaves him reeling (or maybe the lack of oxygen is what has him reeling).
Baekhyun’s eyes begin to tear heavily, breath coming out in small, choked gasps, but Chanyeol’s grip never falters, applying constant pressure all around Baekhyun’s neck and restricting his breathing to the point of choking. He opens his mouth to warn of his impending release before remembering that he can’t. He’s so close, not only to climaxing but to tipping over too. A deep arousal stirs in his stomach, stronger and darker than anything he’s felt before. His eyes are glazing over, vision teetering on the edge of black, and he’s sure he’s full-out red in the face. Chanyeol’s watching him with concern written all over his features and it takes all of Baekhyun’s effort to tighten his hold in what he hopes is a clear indication that he doesn’t want to stop, not yet.
It feels dangerous, lingering this close to the edge of consciousness, but that thought in itself turns Baekhyun on more. It’s not like he has a death wish or anything, but he wants to push this as far as it can go. This is it, what he wants. He’s never thought of himself as a masochist, but the pressure around his neck and the dizziness in his head are surprisingly comforting. It feels amazing, being dominated like this. Too much pressure and Chanyeol could very easily kill him. It would be a very Chanyeol thing to do, actually; accidentally killing someone while trying to pleasure them. Yet worry is the last thing on Baekhyun’s mind. Chanyeol’s hips begin to snap up faster and faster, and just when Baekhyun’s thinks he might really faint, Chanyeol releases the hold he has on his throat and air floods into Baekhyun’s lungs with excruciating force, orgasm ripping from him with a strangled scream.
His throat feels ripped raw and his voice, when he’s taken enough deep breaths to form words, sounds eerily like Batman’s. Chanyeol’s hands are all over him, stroking his face, his hair, his throat. His face is a weird mix between terrified and turned-on and it sends Baekhyun into a fit of giggles that quickly turn into coughs.
“Damn it Baekhyun, I never should have listened to you! I’m so sorry, please, tell me you’re okay. Oh god, if I’ve ruined your voice I will never forgive myself. What have I done, I’m so stupid, I never should have-”
Baekhyun shuts him up by throwing a pillow at his face, one that’s thrown back in his own before Chanyeol breaks into a new set of apologies that Baekhyun cuts off with a small press of his lips.
“You were perfect,” he says earnestly as he pulls back. Chanyeol searches his face for any signs of discomfort and when he finds nothing, he allows himself to smile.
“So were you, Baek,” he breathes. “I wish you knew how beautiful you looked.”
“What, blue in the face and convulsing?” Baekhyun laughs. Chanyeol blushes deeply.
“N-no! Just-” he puts his fingers under Baekhyun’s chin and locks their gazes together. “You looked so perfect, eyes hazy as you struggled to breathe. Your lips were quivering, you know? I wanted to kiss you, but I was scared, of taking away the little air you had left. I know it sounds crazy, but you-you looked beautiful like that. I enjoyed seeing you like that.”
Baekhyun smiles as Chanyeol’s gaze drops to his lap, unable to believe that this is the boy who had been straight-out strangling him up until moments ago. He shakes his head and leans forward, pressing a small kiss onto the top of Chanyeol’s head. “Thank you for doing this for me,” he says. “I was worried I was asking for too much, so thanks, for going through with it.”
Chanyeol looks up shyly and nods. “What-what made you want this anyway?” he asks, a hand nervously scratching the back of his head. He’s had some pretty wild fantasies of his own, many of them involving pretty questionable kinks he has himself, but this, asphyxiation, is something that’s never even remotely crossed his mind.
Baekhyun thinks back to all of his heated, late-night masturbation sessions, to his competitions with Kyungsoo where he would push himself to extreme lengths just to get the rush of wooziness that holding his breath gave him. The spike of arousal that coursed through him whenever he saw one of the other members panting and gasping for air. How it was especially strong when Chanyeol was the one panting.
He looks up at Chanyeol with a coy smile on his lips. “I like being breathless,” he answers. “I like seeing others breathless too.”
Chanyeol’s eyes widen at his answer. “So you like choking others?” he squeaks out.
Baekhyun gives him a pointed look and nods. “Choking others,” he repeats, “especially when they do things to piss me off and deserve to be punished.”
Chanyeol doesn’t know why, but he finds himself nodding repeatedly, feeling increasingly nervous. Baekhyun’s gaze feels entirely too hot and heavy on his face, like he’s trying to convey something but Chanyeol doesn’t know what, doesn’t know if he wants to know.
“Kris,” Baekhyun suddenly says, and the lack of honorific sounds strange from the normally respectful boy’s mouth. “You have a recording with him right?” Even though Baekhyun’s the one who just got choked, Chanyeol finds himself having to swallow deeply before answering.
“Yeah,” he says, “we’re recording our parts on the song today.”
"Don't spend too much time with him."
Chanyeol's brows knit together in confusion. "Why not?" he asks.
Baekhyun fixes him with a sweet smile, fingers coming up to stroke the hair of his fringe back out of his eyes.
"You're mine," he whispers, eyes staring into Chanyeol's intently. The atmosphere shifts from pleasant to ice-cold at once, and Chanyeol feels a shiver work itself up his spine. There's something sinister in his gaze, something Chanyeol can't quite place a finger on. "Say it."
The words leave his lips before he can think twice. "I'm yours."
"Good. Then let's show the world."
Cold, bony fingers wrap themselves around the base of his neck.
The sound of the alarm going off in the background goes unnoticed. (Chanyeol doesn't even hear it over the sound of blood pounding through his head).
--
edit: changed the ending to make baekhyun even more of a psycho woohoo