Dancing with the Starfish
Dancing with the Starfish | Kris/Chanyeol | ~8.1k | NC-17 | Chanyeol tattoos. He does not drive 4 hours to see his nephew "perform", especially not on a Sunday. (But he does.)
Of Tattoos, Tops, Taddles, and Tail Feathers collection:
• Imagine Dragons (and Phoenix too!)
• The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles
• Half Lord of the Fishes
• Dancing with the Starfish
Dancing with the Starfish
There are two things that should be known about tattooing: one is Park Chanyeol and the other is Kris Wu (Yifan, Kevin Li, Wu Fan, Li Jiaheng, Ben Ben, Koala). They strive for perfection and get it just around sixty-nine percent of the time, pun intended. With their nine machines each and boxes of ink, they conquer the whole world with their skills.
That might be a little bit of an exaggeration, but they should be known if you want a good tattoo and entertainment to boot (for an unfairly low price, if Chanyeol might add).
They own a little corner store in the middle of the flashing lights and traffic jams of the city, and they have changed the name unofficially at least twice. Their neon sign burns out quite often, and it's probably because of the wire that was cut that short-circuited all of the bulbs last winter. It had even had problems before that, but ever since the sign was sabotaged it got worse. Their landlord drinks beer and eats donuts and couldn't care less about the faulty switch and the cost of neon lightbulbs, so they're stuck changing them almost every three weeks.
When it snows, Kris is often seen on a step-ladder brushing the snow off of the letters and the internet satellite while Chanyeol sips hot-chocolate from behind the ground to ceiling glass walls and stares with something that could be interpreted as both teasing and adoration at the older man. When it's almost unbearably hot, Chanyeol is seen wiping his face with his discarded t-shirt as he sprays Windex on the glass and scrubs with a rag and Kris is the one inside with a beverage.
The people who get the pleasure of booking a spot get to enter the tiny little shop (they prefer the term “parlor,” but anyone can see it's not that fancy), will see the threadbare carpet and beaten up leather chairs in the offices on either side of the chipped wooden desk.
The overall look of the place might be shabby, but at least they have nice hospitality.
It is currently springtime, and the nice quiet of the evening in the small little parlor is disrupted by a deep voice.
“Jesus, don't dig into me!” Kris yells and presses the arm that is over his eyes down, hard. The small buzzing from the machine at his foot keeps going at a steady pace, there is no hesitation from the person holding it.
“I'm not. You're being a baby.” Chanyeol is hunched over on his stool, bangs pulled up in a waterfall ponytail and eyebrows knitted as he keeps tracing over the stencil with black ink. His hand is steady, and his tongue peeks out from between his lips as he scoots the stool back to dip it in more ink before putting the needle back onto the sensitive skin and continuing to draw.
They have been in this position for about an hour now, and Kris has not been discreet about Chanyeol's choice of placing, not at all. “Why my foot? You know I have lots of-now that was mean,” Kris says, changing his tone from whiny to accusing as he lifts his arm off of his eyes and glares at Chanyeol, who is currently smirking evilly. He just drove the needle in farther than he needed to to get Kris to shut up.
Chanyeol grabs a paper towel from the wheely-table he set up next to his stool and wipes off the beads of blood that bubbled up to the surface. He then proceeds to wipe off the excess ink that didn't go into the skin. He just finished the solid black portion of the tattoo and is about to add the finishing touches to the other half of the yin and yang symbol to finish it up. There is some heavy metal American music playing from Kris's iHome and a drip of sweat rolls down Chanyeol's temple as he dips a long finger into a tub of vaseline and rubs it over the artwork before going back to tattooing.
“What are you putting on me anyway.” Kris doesn't phrase it as a question. He's in too bad of a mood for that.
“Yin yang slash summer winter thing. It's cool. I saw it on some internet forum last night.”
Kris grits his teeth, but says nothing.
Thirty minutes later, Chanyeol wipes a paper towel across his brow and sits back on his stool (almost losing his balance, because he keeps forgetting it has no backrest), looking at the two and a half inch diameter yin and yang circle. It has a two trees that connect at the roots in the center where the color inverts, and the one in the light side has leaves and healthy looking branches, and the one on the dark side has thin, scraggly branches. The dots are the sun and the moon, naturally. Chanyeol sighs in content and starts packing up his tools while Kris sits up and looks at his red and swollen foot.
“I thought you said it was cool,” Kris comments as he examines the ink. Chanyeol stops what he's doing and looks at the older man from under his arm in disbelief. The tattoo is pretty dang cool.
“You're not serious, right?”
“I am serious. You said it was cool. Do you deny that?”
Chanyeol's back is cramped, he's hot, and he just used up almost a whole bottle of black ink. He's not in the mood for Kris's petty arguments.
“I didn't complain when you put a fucking planet on my hand! Or a Pharaoh's necklace on my chest! You can handle a small yin and yang. It's even Chinese-based, like the rest of your tattoos, oh my God.”
Kris looks at the scrawny man who was just snapping at him and shrugs. “Touche.”
Chanyeol rolls his eyes and closes his needle case.
“Do you want me to wrap it up?” he asks, his tone significantly softer.
“Sure, why not?”
Chanyeol grabs the saran wrap from his shelf and a roll of masking tape and sits back on his stool. He wraps the clear plastic around Kris's long foot and tapes the edges down, making sure it won't move. Then he pats Kris's thigh before promptly shoving the older man off of the chair.
“Okay. Get your stuff. I wanna go home.” Kris gets off of the floor, mumbling, and limps off. Chanyeol smiles and takes off his gloves that covered in ink and blood and throws them away before grabbing his jacket and new phone.
He skips out of the parlor and out to the red car in the almost empty parking lot. There's not snow outside, just wet concrete and blooming flowers on all of the trees. Chanyeol's favorite season is fall-because it matches his coloring-but he still has to admit he loves the spring.
By the time Kris comes limping out, Chanyeol's already figured out how to get the door unlocked himself, and is sitting in the passenger seat, tapping his foot.
Chanyeol is woken at six AM the next morning, much to his dismay because, he notes, it's Sunday morning. He has no business being up before one in the afternoon. But he picks up his cell phone anyway, because it's not Kris's tone playing in his ears so it must be some form of urgent.
“What,” he mumbles into the receiver after answering the call. He didn't bother to look at who called.
“Channie-yah!” chirps a familiar voice, and Chanyeol's eyes widen to their full extent. No. “Junghwa has a play tomorrow and he really wants you to come so maybe you could-”
“Junghwa doesn't even know me, Chanshi,” Chanyeol groans into his pillow. His sister's five year old kid is the last person he wants to see, because he's got to be even more troublesome than his sister. “I'm not coming.”
“But-”
“Unlike you, I actually have work. Please leave me alone.” Chanyeol's about to hang up the phone when a small child's voice comes through the phone, just clouded.
“Is that uncle Chanyeol?” the voice says. There's crackling like Chanshi covered the receiver on her end, and there's tones as if a little argument is taking place even though Chanyeol can't hear exactly what. There's even more commotion, and then the same voice pops up. “Are you gonna come see me?” the boy asks, and then the phone is taken from him and he starts to cry. Chanyeol buries his face in his hands. He hates when his sister involves him.
“Well he's excited. We haven't moved, so you know where to find us. You're really selfish, you know that right?” and then the line goes dead.
Chanyeol lets out a yell of frustration and throws his pillow across the room before calling Kris. When Kris answers, Chanyeol can practically hear his scowl.
“What do you want, you big baby? And by the way, my foot still hurts.”
“It's supposed to hurt, I just gave you an open wound,” Chanyeol sighs. From an outsider's point of view, it seems as if Kris would be the tougher of the two when it came to actually receiving tattoos, when truthfully it was the opposite. Kris would whine the whole way through and Chanyeol just sat and took what he got. “I'm leaving for my sister's in a little while, I'm not going to work tomorrow.”
“What the hell does she want with you? How long has it been since you guys have even talked without having an argument? Eight years?” Chanyeol can hear Kris sitting up. He decides to disregard the comment Kris made about their relationship.
“She wants me to come see Junghwa's play. He doesn't even know me and she got his hopes all high.”
“Is Junghwa her new boyfriend?”
“He's her son!”
“She has a son?!” Chanyeol is mystified by how surprised Kris sounds.
“Yeah, I missed my twenty-first birthday for the brat's birth?”
“Oh yeah, I remember!” Kris says, sounding more awake.
“I had to stay home for yours, Minseok's, and Lu Han's, and when mine finally came along I had to go away and watch a human being be pulled from my sister's vagina. And now she wants me to go see the little thing perform.”
“Sorry. Hey, but I found this design you'd look good with, so do you think you could get it before you leave-”
“Ugh, fine.”
“You want to put fucking waves around my ankle?” Chanyeol asks as he sits in Kris's chair at seven in the morning with a bright blue and slightly more realistic version of the simple wave formation in his face.
“Well, you have nothing else on your legs-”
“Except for tails on my thighs.”
“-and I thought it would be a good way to start with an ankle tattoo!”
“If you insist,” Chanyeol mumbles and sets his foot down flat so his ankle is elevated and lays his head back. He's too tired for this, and he hopes Kris is awake enough because a fucked up tattoo would be the perfect thing to sour his mood further.
Kris has already made the stencil, so he wastes no time spraying and sticking the design in purple ink around Chanyeol's skinny ankle. When the buzzing of the needle starts up, Chanyeol sighs. Kris rarely talked while he tattooed, and this design looked like it would take at least two hours.
“She's got abandonment issues, I think. Dad wasn't great to us and left when she was fourteen and I was ten. I mean, she was really close to him and he left without a trace and maybe that triggered it? I dunno. She never really talks to me and now all of a sudden I'm supposed to take a four hour commute for a preschool performance. Does she just want me there to ridicule what I've chosen to do with my life?”
“She's not that type of person,” is the only comment Kris decides to make about the emotional monologue Chanyeol just narrated. The needle continues to run across Chanyeol's skin, and Chanyeol hisses when Kris has to dig in a little over one of the veins that sticks out. Chanyeol tries again to initiate conversation.
“Soooo,” Chanyeol says, stretching out the sound of the vowel. He has a smirk playing with his features, and Kris looks up at him with a puzzled expression.
“What.”
“I just wanted to get your attention. You're so boring in the morning.”
Kris just blows air out of his nose and leans over Chanyeol's ankle again. The latter just decides to give up trying to make the turtle talk. Chanyeol slumps against the back of the chair and contents himself with staring at the older man.
After about five minutes, though, he can't handle the silence.
“So how's your family?” Chanyeol asks, picking at his sweatpants hem. He looks at Kris from under his hair as he refills his liner needle with black ink and going back to outlining the waves.
“Fine. My mom is bugging me about how Lu Han's a better son and blah blah blah.”
“But Lu Han's not her son.” Chanyeol's just a little bit confused.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Kris says in English and rolls his eyes. He had lately developed a habit of swearing in English. “She means he acts more like a son to them than I do. He's always with them, like doesn't he have his own family, God.”
“I think you've masked your lovey-dovey crush for Gege with hate. Your therapist won't be happy.” Chanyeol has a smile on his face as he watches Kris very slowly look up.
“When are you going to let that go? That was like ten or more years ago-”
“Nine.”
“-whatever-and it's not even a relevant argument anymore.”
“It still gets you frazzled, so I'd say it's very relevant.” Chanyeol's feeling like an evil shit as Kris blushes and goes back to tattooing, except now he's driving the needle in deeper than he needs to.
They don't talk for the rest of the hour and a half they are there, and for the whole time Chanyeol is turning around and around in a circle so Kris can get at his ankle more easily. Chanyeol feels triumphant the whole time.
“Okay, I'm going to start driving down in about a half an hour,” Chanyeol says as he bends down to get a couple of t-shirts from his drawer to put into his backpack. It's about ten now, and Kris is sitting on his bed as he packs his things for the night he's going to spend at his sister's.
“You're not taking that horrid motorcycle down, are you?”
“I can't. There's kind of a law against motorcycles on freeways.”
“Then what are you-don't ask.”
“I need your keys, Krissy.”
“You expect me to be stranded at home-”
“You have enough food to sustain you.”
“What about work?”
“Your bus ride will be shorter than mine,” Chanyeol says with a pointed look. Kris sighs and takes his keys from his pocket and hands them over. Chanyeol smiles and puts them in his own pocket and continues to pack.
He gets done shortly, and then he and Kris go down the stairs and into the parking lot where Chanyeol climbs into the driver's seat and Kris the passenger. These are new positions for them, and Chanyeol can't help but feel superior as he starts the engine and drives to Kris's apartment to drop him off.
When they get there, Kris tries to get out of the car right away. “Ker-ris!” Chanyeol snaps, imitating the tone of Kris's host mother. Kris stops and turns to Chanyeol, where he sees the other man pouting cutely.
“What?”
“You're going to leave without a kissy-kiss?” Chanyeol whines and tilts his head to the side and blinks his big eyes. Kris sighs and gives Chanyeol a light peck on his pouted lips and then gets out of the car, waving back as he leaves.
Chanyeol's bored and his ankle is sore, and he does not want to see his sister.
He's about an hour into his drive when he starts to miss the company of someone, because he's either with Kris or someone else, and then he's never denied access to his phone when he wants to talk to someone. But when he's driving, he can neither text nor call, and he has nobody with him. Chanyeol turns on the radio for some sort of background noise, but finds nothing to listen to and soon turns it off again.
Pressing the different pedals as he drives through stoplights in the city after getting off the freeway randomly is hurting his ankle, and he's cursing Kris for putting the design on his right one. To avoid the twinging pain and uncomfortable rub of the tape and plastic, he decides to get back on the freeway.
This is why he always makes Kris drive. The thrill of the motorcycle, with the wind in his face and the city sounds clouded and the volume of the outside seems to be turned up to the max, the leather of his jacket sticks to his neck with sweat and the helmet set on his shoulders; is so different from sitting in the sheltered cab of a vehicle that bores him to the core. At a stoplight right before the freeway entrance, Chanyeol sets his forehead on the steering wheel and quickly dials Kris's phone number and puts the phone on speaker and then sets the device on the passenger seat. When the light turns green, he steps on the gas pedal and turns onto the freeway, whispering for Kris to please pick up.
“What did you do to my car?” Kris says, sounding panicked, when he picks up the phone. Chanyeol laughs at the lack of trust Kris bestows him with large money value items.
“I'm just lonely,” Chanyeol says and pouts as he turns onto the on-ramp and pushes down harder on the gas pedal to make the car go faster to match the speed limit of the speedway. “I don't like being alone.”
“You've been by yourself for like an hour and a half. What are you going to do if I ever want to visit my parents? Hm?”
“Go with you?” Chanyeol says innocently and blinks cutely like he is talking face to face with Kris, and stops himself because Kris can't see him and he's sure he looks silly to everyone who's looking in on him.
“You're hopeless,” Kris says after a sigh. “They probably won't approve of that tattoo on your face, just a heads up.”
“You put it there! You thought it would 'look cool' on me and made me sit through it. I still haven't been able to give you a mark above your collar, and, like, my whole neck and part of my face is covered, like where's the balance!”
“Are you paying attention to the road? I don't want you crashing my baby.”
“Aw, pet names are so cute. Especially when you have one for your car and not me!” Chanyeol would have said ”your boyfriend,” but they hadn't had the talk and he wasn't sure how Kris would react, and he also wants to see his reaction so he just didn't say it.
“I've spent more intimate time with my car.”
Chanyeol scoffs. “I highly doubt that.”
“My car doesn't react to my pet names so it's safe to use them?”
“If it makes you feel better, I call you pet names in my head,” Chanyeol says. His voice is calm and there are no hints of mischief in it, but his face is the exact opposite. He almost feels bad when Kris sounds excited in his response.
“Really?” he says, sounding happy or curious.
“Yeah. Stuff like 'car lover' and 'asshole.' Basic-”
“You shithead.” Kris may-or-may-not be disappointed, it's difficult for Chanyeol to tell over the phone. He just settles to laughing evilly and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he turns on the signal light and switches lanes.
“So what are you doing?” Chanyeol asks after a while, when he has secured himself in the fast lane, getting a move through the ever growing traffic. He knows the way to his sister's, but he hasn't been there for a while and wants to get to the city she lives in soon so he has time to find his way around.
“Lying on my bed. There's nothing else to do because you took my car.”
“I don't have a car. I don't have rich parents like you do,” Chanyeol says and rolls his eyes.
“My parents aren't rich, they just make a good amount of money. And you have a motorcycle, they can't be that much less than cars, can they?”
“They are significantly less, but not cheap. And my dad bought it because he felt bad for leaving his 'little man.'” Chanyeol shifts in his seat. Parents weren't a big subject between the two of them. Kris clears his throat and it sounds like he rolls over.
“I want to tattoo someone, and you're gone and nobody is going to volunteer.” Kris finishes his statement with a whine.
“You tattooed me this morning,” Chanyeol sighs.
“That wasn't a fun tattoo, it was just blues and white and black. I want to do a big vibrant tattoo with lots of color. Like-like an underwater scene that covers the whole thigh. Or a shark on the back. Those would be so fun but you're covered in those places already.”
“That's not entirely my fault. Why not call Sehun?” Chanyeol offers and switches lanes again. He can't drive too long in one lane, it makes him nervous.
“Sehun's probably doing tattoos right now.”
“Jongin?”
“Sucking Sehun's dick.”
“I'm only trying to help, gosh.” He pauses for a moment and then adds. “Ink an orange.”
Based on the noise he gets in return, he would have gotten slapped if he were next to Kris. Chanyeol laughs.
Three agonizing hours of driving later, Chanyeol turns into his sister's neighborhood and grits his teeth as he approaches the small two story house that sits in the center of the row of houses. He parks out front and sits in his car for a moment before rubbing his bare arms and tightening his shoelaces. He then gets out of the car, grabs his backpack, and walks up the steps to the front door.
He's about to walk back to his car when the door opens and a small child comes hopping out and jumping around him. Chanyeol looks at the kid and sees no resemblance to him or to his sister and sighs inwardly. He almost thinks he might be able to convince himself that he has the wrong house when his sister walks out.
She looks exactly how she did when he saw her five years before: her long, dark brown hair in a ponytail, her facial features that look similar to his, except her face is a little longer, and her average height. He smiles at her, she glares at him, and Junghwa grabs his shirt and drags him into the house.
“Junghwa, baby could you please go to your room for a moment?” she says. The little boy nods and runs away, leaving Chanyeol alone in the living room with Chanshi. He dramatically flops onto a sofa, his arms spread out wide and his face exhausted. One isn't supposed to do as much as he has done on a Sunday.
“What do you want to say, c'mon,” Chanyeol drawls, uninterested. His sister has been staring at him from where she's standing in the middle of the room and it's making him uncomfortable.
“You're covered.”
“In ink? Yeah. I know.”
“Why?”
Chanyeol scoffs and sits up straight. “Because I want to be. Are we done here? Because I'd really like to do anything but talk to you right now.” Chanyeol doesn't wait for her to respond, he just gets up with his backpack and walks up the stairs to find Junghwa's room.
“Junghwa! It's uncle Chanyeol,” he says while standing in the middle of the hallway. A door opens and Junghwa peeks his head out.
“Shhh, Iron Man and Captain America are sleeping.” Chanyeol smiles and walks toward the door.
“Do you want me to play with you?” Chanyeol smiles and bends down to the little boy's eye-level. He nods and opens the door wide enough for Chanyeol to come in.
After a many hours of playing with action figures and dealing with little fingers running over the designs on his arms, Chanyeol ends up lying on the floor of the small bedroom in the middle of a ile of markers and hating life.
“I told you, Junghwa, mine are drawn with a magic marker. You don't have any, because they don't look like normal markers.”
“It's not fair, though! Mine always wash away in the bath, and you get to keep yours!”
Chanyeol rolls over and looks at the pouting preschooler who's holding a yellow marker and scribbling on his ankle. Chanyeol takes the marker from him and pushes up his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles tee-shirt and tickles the little boy until he is giggling and lying on the floor.
“I can draw you one, and it will come out, but you have to promise Uncle that you won't show your mama, okay?” Chanyeol says and Junghwa's eyes widen before he nods and starts shoving handfuls of his Crayola markers into Chanyeol's hands.
“I want a giraffe! Because they are tall and orange like you!” Chanyeol pats his rusty-colored hair and pouts, making Junghwa giggle more before handing Chanyeol more markers.
Chanyeol takes a black one and starts to sketch the shape of a giraffe onto the tiny stomach of his nephew.
Junghwa didn't keep his promise. In the middle of dinner, he said that uncle Chanyeollie made me like him! and showed the big giraffe to her. It was a disaster, to put it plainly, because Chanshi got up and grabbed Chanyeol's ear and dragged him out of his seat and into the spare bedroom that housed Chanyeol's bag and started lecturing him about ink poisoning and wrong moves and why are you trying to take my son from me.
Junghwa cried and Chanshi cleaned it off, and Chanyeol was told to stay in the room until morning, which initiated a call to his two favorite friends.
“Hyung!” he said when Minseok droned a hello? over the receiver. Chanyeol had since gotten a new number and only had Lu Han and Minseok's because he broke into Kris's phone and took them. Minseok recognized his voice immediately (who couldn't?) and the quickly made their enthusiastic greetings.
“Chanyeol!” Minseok said, and Chanyeol smiled into his forearm. “You asshole, why didn't you ever call us? It's been like three years.”
“I keep breaking my phone and Kris never gives me your numbers anymore because he's a dickface and likes to keep me out of the loop.”
“Ah, well, Kris will be Kris.”
There's a voice behind Minseok, “Is that Chanyeollie?” Lu Han doesn't give Minseok any time to answer. “Chanyeollie! I missed you! How are you doing?”
“Are you two always together?” Chanyeol says, ignoring the questions shot his way. Both of the men on the other side of the line chuckle.
“We live together, of course.”
“You two are joined at the hip, I swear.”
“It takes a special kind of bond,” Minseok answers coyly, and Chanyeol rolls his eyes.
“Did you hear what I did last week?” Lu Han chimes, and Chanyeol can't help but cringe a little bit. He doesn't really want to know, but the knowledge will come to him anyway. “I told Krissy, but who knows if he told you-”
“I'd be really surprised if you didn't know. Lu Han's been telling everybody.”
“What?” Chanyeol says, exasperated.
“I had a threesome with me and another guy, and a girl! Isn't that cool!”
“And the week before it was two girls and him, and next week he's going for all guys,” Minseok keeps going, and Chanyeol mimes throwing up.
“How does he even meet these people?” Chanyeol asks Minseok.
“Work,” Minseok answers quickly.
“Does he work in a prostitution ring?”
“Ew,” Lu Han says, like the idea is appalling, even though it's practically all he does anyway. “I have a wonderful job.”
“-he's a bartender-” Minseok interjects.
“At a wonderful place.”
“-a bar in the rich part of town-”
“With wonderful people.”
“-rich fucks-”
“And they love me!”
“-they love his 'talents'-”
“Minseokkie hyung, you are ruining the mood!”
“I'm telling our beloved dongsaeng the truth!”
“So was I!”
“You were exaggerating!”
“I was not!”
It sounds like Minseok strangles Lu Han. Chanyeol has a pressing question. “How old do they think he is?”
“Twenty-two!” Minseok calls.
“Lu Han ge!” Chanyeol groans into the phone.
“I pay most of the bills, shut up!” Lu Han's close to the phone again, but he seems out of breath. Chanyeol thinks for a fleeting moment that he just murdered Minseok, but then he comes on.
“Anyway, how is your shop going?”
“Business is slow, but we are just charging more so it's fine.” Chanyeol's phone beeps. He got a message. He interrupts Lu Han in the middle of talking in a dreamy voice about “young entrepreneurs in the cold market of this economy” and says, “Hey, I gotta go. Kris is bugging me. He can't stay Chanyeol-free for long.”
“Call us soon, then!” Minseok says, and the line goes dead. Chanyeol laughs as he opens up the text, and end up rolling his eyes as he looks at the message.
wat r u wearin
Chanyeol didn't text him back, instead he called the older man with an amused huff. It didn't even ring once before Kris's voice chimed. “Ello, ello, ello!” Kris said, and it was obvious from his voice that he had called in the middle of his activities.
“Is this your poor attempt to initiate phone sex? I'm at my sister's house with a preschooler! Why can't you do this when we are in our respective apartments?”
“Because if we're in our respective apartments, I can-ngg-just drive over.”
“Ew, you're doing it right now?”
“Don't pretend you aren't getting hard.”
Chanyeol pauses for a moment, adjusting himself on his bed and pulling his sweats down so he's just in his boxers, his dick already starting to make a pyramid with the plaid fabric, and then grabs the phone again. “So how do we do this?”
“I don't know,” Kris says.
“Are we just going to jerk off on the phone?” Chanyeol hooks his fingers into his waistband and frees his cock before running his fingers over the heated flesh. A stifled moan comes through the receiver and Chanyeol smirks. “You're fingering yourself, aren't you? How many to do have in?”
Chanyeol decides this might not be very difficult after all. He wraps his hand around his member and tugs on it, making a whimper come out of his mouth as Kris stutters out, obviously blushing, “Two.” Chanyeol starts to set a slow pace, tugging and moving his hand up and down his dick.
“Put in another,” he says, and by the small moan that he hears from the older man, he complies right away. He listens to Kris's pants and moans over the phone while he gets more hard, and he cups his balls as he pants for Kris to put in a fourth. They keep going like this until they both come, which isn't very satisfying for either of them, but they have to make due.
“We are never,” Chanyeol says as he comes down from his high and wipes away the white mess with his sweats, “doing that again.”
“That was so lame,” Kris says, and he hangs up, making Chanyeol spit a couple curses at him.
It turns out that Junghwa doesn't even have a big part, or even a remotely medium part. Chanyeol's nephew is embodying a bush, and all he does the whole entire play is crouch in a corner and smile. Chanyeol still congratulates him and hands him flowers after he's done, and pats him on the back. “You did well, bud,” he says and ruffles his hair, masking both his laughter and his disappointment.
Chanyeol doesn't talk to his sister, partly because he's mad she dragged him all of the way down so see his nephew sit in a green jumpsuit with shrubbery taped to him, and partly because he just wants to get out of there, for the rest of the time he is with them. He packs his things, says goodbye to Junghwa, and leaves the house without looking back.
It's probably going to be a long time before he returns, he decides with a grunt as he slides into the driver's seat and starts the engine.
The drive home is just as boring, if not more so, than the drive there, and it's all pretty much owed to the fact that Kris doesn't pick up his phone at all so Chanyeol is forced to bear the horrible hits played on the radio. He drives to Kris's place, and by the time he gets there it's about seven thirty in the evening. He slides out of the car and gets his bag, locking the car behind him and going up the cement stairs that led to Kris's upstairs apartment.
He adjusts his duffel bag on his shoulder and raises his fist, putting a matter-of-fact three knocks on the metal door and standing there, waiting for Kris to open it. A cold breeze blows passed him and goosebumps rise on his bare arms. He rubs them as Kris opens the door. Kris looks at him nervously and then glances behind him, but before he can talk, Chanyeol starts.
“Oh my God, why did you not pick up your phone I was so bored,” Chanyeol says and steps forward, trying to place a kiss on Kris's lips, but Kris steps back.
“Wait-”
“And Junghwa didn't even talk the whole play.” Chanyeol tries again, but Kris moves, again.
“Chanyeol-”
“What are you doing?” Chanyeol asks, and kicks the door closed. He takes another step forward as Kris takes a step back.
“Just wait-”
They both practically fall into the living room, and Chanyeol manages to place a small peck on the older man's lips before he notices who is sitting on the sofa. “Oh,” he says and drops his matted duffel bag and kicks it out of the way he stands up straighter. “Hello Mr. and Mrs. Wu.” He bows to the older couple and smiles sweetly.
Mrs. Wu just drags her eyes up and down Chanyeol's body, taking in his cut-off tank top and ink-covered arms. Chanyeol clears his throat in the awkward atmosphere. Kris and him go to sit down on the sofa across from Kris's parents.
“What were you two doing?” Mr. Wu asks with a raised eyebrow. Chanyeol lets out an awkward laugh.
“We were thinking about going to France and we are trying to embrace the culture of the people,” Chanyeol says quickly, making a face at his own sudden spark of creativity. Kris's mom raised an eyebrow.
“The French kiss the cheeks.”
“Chanyeol never gets it right,” Kris says with a smile and subtly stomps on Chanyeol's foot to stop the defensive string of words from coming out of his mouth. Kris's parents exchange looks of disapproval.
“Nice tattoos,” Mrs. Wu says slowly, and Chanyeol blushes. This is a very awkward environment, to be sitting with rich, homophobic, anti-ink people while Kris and Chanyeol violate almost everything they stand for. That was when Chanyeol noticed that Kris was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and he was covering the hand that had his knuckles inked. Chanyeol made a small noise of realization.
“Right. Well, I got them a while ago, before I realized the harm they would do in my outside life, in the workplace, and in the presence of innocent children. I greatly regret every single one of them,” Chanyeol says and nods, biting the inside of his cheek. Kris's parents nod with slightly more approval.
After another very awkward moment, Kris's parents stand up and brush off their clothing, as if to rid themselves of the cheap fabric of the sofa. Kris wrinkles his eyebrows as his mother says, “Well this has been nice,” in a clipped tone. The older couple leave before Kris and Chanyeol can say anything.
The door closes with a pronounced slam, and Kris lets out a low whistle. “Jesus, that was intense,” he says and leans back against the back of the couch. Chanyeol mimics the older man's movements and lets out a sigh of his own.
“Wanna have sex?” he asks casually.
“Sure.”
“Thank God,” Chanyeol says, exasperated, as he strips off his tank top and turns toward Kris on the sofa. “I've had a really hectic twenty-four hours and I need to relieve some stress.” Kris laughs and takes off his own shirt, letting Chanyeol press their lips together and push him slowly down onto the couch so that his back is on the cushions and Chanyeol is hovering over him.
Chanyeol parts Kris's lips with his and immediately puts his tongue inside Kris's cavern, massaging their tongues together roughly as the hand that isn't holding him up starts to slowly palm Kris's dick through his jeans.
Kris moans softly as a hand goes up to tangle in Chanyeol's slightly messed-up hair. He pushes his hips up into Chanyeol's hand, making Chanyeol smirk into the kiss as he swallows a few more of the older man's moans. Kris's hands go around Chanyeol's waist and start to push his sweats down as Chanyeol separates their mouths and laughs softly. He undoes the button and starts working on the zipper of Kris's skinny jeans.
“We are like horny teenagers, I swear,” Chanyeol says and unzips the zipper all of the way, beginning to palm more roughly except now just through the fabric of Kris's boxers. Kris lets out another soft moan and shakes his head.
“We just like sex.” After a moment, he adds, “Like Lu Han.” Chanyeol stops his moments, shivering slightly at the new light that was shed on Lu Han's bedroom activities.
“Nothing like Lu Han,” he says and kisses Kris roughly, pushing his jeans down to his mid-thigh as he kicks his own sweats off. He places small, open-mouthed kisses to Kris's neck and chest. “He loves sex on a spiritual level.”
Chanyeol mouths Kris's hardening cock through his boxers and smirks when Kris moans loudly, and Chanyeol misses the small, “I love you on a spiritual level” that spills out of Kris's mouth because he is too preoccupied with getting the boxers off-or his hand in, whichever he can do fastest. (Which is get his hand in, but he takes the boxers off anyway.)
“Do you want me to blow you or just fuck you?” Chanyeol asks so comfortably, it's like he's asking Kris if he wants his eggs fried or scrambled. They've done this so many times by now that the topic of sex and anything to do with it can be mentioned in normal conversation and it's totally normal.
Chanyeol looks Kris in the eyes and wrinkles his eyebrows because Kris is blushing unusually red; Kris was sure Chanyeol must have heard him, and he was confused he was acting so normal. He didn't have time to ponder, because Chanyeol was slowly pumping his dick as he was waiting for Kris's response and he couldn't think straight.
“Ah”-Kris moaned softly-“Fuck-just fuck me.”
Chanyeol gives a little smirk of triumph and reaches his hand into the cushions of the sofa, pulling out a small bottle of lube. Kris laughs breathily as Chanyeol coats two fingers in the clear substance and circles them around his ass before slowly pushing one in.
Kris moans again, slightly louder, and throws a leg off of the couch to give Chanyeol more space; his foot hits the coffee table and a metal water bottle falls onto the top of his foot, making him yowl in pain as his still-fresh tattoo is injured. Chanyeol laughs slightly, and rubs a soothing hand on Kris's stomach as he adds a second finger, his own new tattoo hurting slightly at the way he's sitting back on his heels and the skin on his ankles are being stretched.
Kris glares at Chanyeol slightly, cursing him for putting the tattoo there in the first place, again, but it's soon covered up by a breathy moan when Chanyeol adds a third finger and starts spreading his digits to stretch Kris out more. Chanyeol leans forward, using his free hand for support as he hovers over Kris again and kisses him softly, a smile on his face because of Kris's ridiculousness.
Chanyeol adds a fourth finger and crooks his middle finger, hitting Kris's prostate straight on. Kris arches his back and lets out a shaky moan, and Chanyeol smirks as he removes all of his fingers; Kris whimpers at the loss. Chanyeol kisses the older man roughly and gives Kris's neglected cock a couple of tugs before shedding his own boxers and breaking the kiss to coat it with lube and shove the bottle back into the cushions. He cups Kris's hip as he slowly pushes in.
Kris arches his back and lets out a slightly louder moan, putting the leg that's still on the sofa around Chanyeol's waist as he keeps pushing in. When Chanyeol is in all of the way, Kris pants slightly and nods, and Chanyeol smirks again as he starts off at a steady pace. He thrusts a couple of times before angling his hips so he just misses Kris's prostate with every thrust. Kris whines between his moans and Chanyeol leans over him to lightly bite and suck on his collarbone.
His finger rubs little circles on Kris's hip, and he glances down at the bare skin. “You should let me do your hips sometime,” Chanyeol says as he thrusts in deeply, making Kris moan.
“What would you put there?” Kris asks between pants as he places a hand on Chanyeol's waist to try and steady himself as he looks at the younger male.
“Well I didn't get to spend as much time on the scales on your back as I wanted to, so”-Chanyeol angles his hips once more, hitting Kris's prostate and making Kris arch his back and moan loudly-“I could put little detailed scales there.” Kris puts his other arm around Chanyeol's shoulders and twists his fingers into Chanyeol's damp fringe and rolls his hips, nodding.
Chanyeol smiles and starts thrusting faster, hitting Kris's prostate with every thrust. Kris moans loudly underneath him and arches his back more. Chanyeol kisses him lazily, their tongues playing with each other as Chanyeol cups Kris's balls and starts tugging on the neglected cock as he can feel the other man getting close.
The thrusts quicken, and with a small squeeze to his dick, Kris comes white ropes onto their stomachs. He lets out a loud moan that ends with a squeak as he comes and Chanyeol kisses down his neck and comes inside of him. He puts his forehead on Kris's shoulder and groans as he pulls out and lays down on top of Kris, his fingers twisting into his hair.
“Miss me?” Chanyeol teases and kisses Kris's adam's apple. Kris laughs softly and runs his fingers up the knobs of Chanyeol's spine.
“Naw, it was fun not having you on my back for a while.” Chanyeol slaps him lightly. “How was the play?” he asks, and Chanyeol groans.
“Don't talk to me about that.” Kris is about to apologize when Chanyeol rests his forearms on Kris's chest and looks at his face. “I was dragged all of the way down there to watch the nephew I hadn't met crouch in the corner of the stage and be a bush.” Kris laughs again, and Chanyeol pouts.
“How's your sister?”
“Ugh, just as she was last time I saw her.” Kris nods and runs his fingers through Chanyeol's hair. “This couch is small I want to go to your bed,” Chanyeol says after a moment, and Kris smiles before sitting up, making Chanyeol fall back onto the other side of the sofa, lying on his back. Kris stands up and feels something warm dripping down his leg. He shakes his head.
“Your cum is going to drip on the carpet, come on,” he says and holds out his hand to Chanyeol. Chanyeol stubbornly shakes his head.
“Carry me,” he whines and puts his hands up, making jazz hands and blinking cutely. Kris laughs and scoops Chanyeol up in a bridal fashion and starts carrying him to the bedroom.
“You just fucked me and now I have to carry you,” Kris says. “Wow.” Chanyeol shrugs and folds his fingers over his chest, for his stomach is still coated in the older man's cum.
“Just because I'm the better top doesn't mean I like to walk everywhere.”
Kris laughs and and pushes the bedroom door open, lifting Chanyeol's back up more to make sure he doesn't hit his head on the door frame. Chanyeol smiles and places a small kiss on Kris's cheek and Kris sets him on the bed before climbing on himself. “The cum is at my ankles,” Kris says and flops to he's lying on his stomach, and Chanyeol turns to see the white drip-trails of his cum that start from Kris's ass and indeed go to his ankles. He laughs softly.
“What do you want me to do about it?” Chanyeol asks and walks his fingers up and down Kris's shoulder muscles.
“You could lick it,” Kris says in a teasing tone and shakes his butt at Chanyeol. Chanyeol laughs and crawls down to Kris's lower leg and licks a straight line up to his knee and swallowing the white substance.
“Like that?” he asks and Kris laughs and nods. Chanyeol smirks slightly and does the other leg up to that point before licking all of the way up to Kris's ass. Chanyeol starts to knead his butt cheeks as he leans up to whisper in Kris's ear. “Want me to clean you out, Master?” in an almost-successful seductive tone and Kris both blushes and laughs under his breath.
Kris just clears his throat and gets up so he is almost on his hands and knees, except he's resting on his forearms; thus triggering the second, third, and fourth rounds of their activities, where Chanyeol only falls off of the bed once and Kris bottoms the whole time.
Neither of them check the time, but based on the amount of light that is coming in from the window and going through the curtains, it's pretty late when they finally settle for lying under the covers with Chanyeol's head on Kris's chest as the older blonde runs his fingers through Chanyeol's copper-colored hair. Chanyeol is close to falling asleep, the fatigue in his muscles from the extended physical activity starting to set in, as Kris asks, “What are we even? I mean we act like we're dating but it's been months and all that's official is that we're treating this like a friends-with-benefits sort of thing.”
Chanyeol laughs softly. “Is that a long-winded proposal that I officially become your boyfriend?” Kris blushes, but Chanyeol's doesn't see it. Kris clears his throat and plays it cooly.
“Sure, why not?”
Chanyeol only laughs in response; twenty minutes later they are both snoring loudly, and there previous (cute) position is destroyed, leaving them in separate (unattractive) places on the bed with more than one private part and/or testicle on display.
omg this took so long, but it officially takes the throne off of Imagine Dragons for being the longest one-shot I've ever written, because this one is like 100 words longer. anywayyyyyy and if anyone wants to make any fanarts for this?? or posters because i got lazy with my graphics and they suck anyway... the point is i'll use them
well let's see when the next comes out *throws hat into the crowd*
Of Tattoos, Tops, Taddles, and Tail Feathers collection:
• Imagine Dragons (and Phoenix too!)
• The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles
• Half Lord of the Fishes
• Dancing with the Starfish
Dancing with the Starfish
There are two things that should be known about tattooing: one is Park Chanyeol and the other is Kris Wu (Yifan, Kevin Li, Wu Fan, Li Jiaheng, Ben Ben, Koala). They strive for perfection and get it just around sixty-nine percent of the time, pun intended. With their nine machines each and boxes of ink, they conquer the whole world with their skills.
That might be a little bit of an exaggeration, but they should be known if you want a good tattoo and entertainment to boot (for an unfairly low price, if Chanyeol might add).
They own a little corner store in the middle of the flashing lights and traffic jams of the city, and they have changed the name unofficially at least twice. Their neon sign burns out quite often, and it's probably because of the wire that was cut that short-circuited all of the bulbs last winter. It had even had problems before that, but ever since the sign was sabotaged it got worse. Their landlord drinks beer and eats donuts and couldn't care less about the faulty switch and the cost of neon lightbulbs, so they're stuck changing them almost every three weeks.
When it snows, Kris is often seen on a step-ladder brushing the snow off of the letters and the internet satellite while Chanyeol sips hot-chocolate from behind the ground to ceiling glass walls and stares with something that could be interpreted as both teasing and adoration at the older man. When it's almost unbearably hot, Chanyeol is seen wiping his face with his discarded t-shirt as he sprays Windex on the glass and scrubs with a rag and Kris is the one inside with a beverage.
The people who get the pleasure of booking a spot get to enter the tiny little shop (they prefer the term “parlor,” but anyone can see it's not that fancy), will see the threadbare carpet and beaten up leather chairs in the offices on either side of the chipped wooden desk.
The overall look of the place might be shabby, but at least they have nice hospitality.
It is currently springtime, and the nice quiet of the evening in the small little parlor is disrupted by a deep voice.
“Jesus, don't dig into me!” Kris yells and presses the arm that is over his eyes down, hard. The small buzzing from the machine at his foot keeps going at a steady pace, there is no hesitation from the person holding it.
“I'm not. You're being a baby.” Chanyeol is hunched over on his stool, bangs pulled up in a waterfall ponytail and eyebrows knitted as he keeps tracing over the stencil with black ink. His hand is steady, and his tongue peeks out from between his lips as he scoots the stool back to dip it in more ink before putting the needle back onto the sensitive skin and continuing to draw.
They have been in this position for about an hour now, and Kris has not been discreet about Chanyeol's choice of placing, not at all. “Why my foot? You know I have lots of-now that was mean,” Kris says, changing his tone from whiny to accusing as he lifts his arm off of his eyes and glares at Chanyeol, who is currently smirking evilly. He just drove the needle in farther than he needed to to get Kris to shut up.
Chanyeol grabs a paper towel from the wheely-table he set up next to his stool and wipes off the beads of blood that bubbled up to the surface. He then proceeds to wipe off the excess ink that didn't go into the skin. He just finished the solid black portion of the tattoo and is about to add the finishing touches to the other half of the yin and yang symbol to finish it up. There is some heavy metal American music playing from Kris's iHome and a drip of sweat rolls down Chanyeol's temple as he dips a long finger into a tub of vaseline and rubs it over the artwork before going back to tattooing.
“What are you putting on me anyway.” Kris doesn't phrase it as a question. He's in too bad of a mood for that.
“Yin yang slash summer winter thing. It's cool. I saw it on some internet forum last night.”
Kris grits his teeth, but says nothing.
Thirty minutes later, Chanyeol wipes a paper towel across his brow and sits back on his stool (almost losing his balance, because he keeps forgetting it has no backrest), looking at the two and a half inch diameter yin and yang circle. It has a two trees that connect at the roots in the center where the color inverts, and the one in the light side has leaves and healthy looking branches, and the one on the dark side has thin, scraggly branches. The dots are the sun and the moon, naturally. Chanyeol sighs in content and starts packing up his tools while Kris sits up and looks at his red and swollen foot.
“I thought you said it was cool,” Kris comments as he examines the ink. Chanyeol stops what he's doing and looks at the older man from under his arm in disbelief. The tattoo is pretty dang cool.
“You're not serious, right?”
“I am serious. You said it was cool. Do you deny that?”
Chanyeol's back is cramped, he's hot, and he just used up almost a whole bottle of black ink. He's not in the mood for Kris's petty arguments.
“I didn't complain when you put a fucking planet on my hand! Or a Pharaoh's necklace on my chest! You can handle a small yin and yang. It's even Chinese-based, like the rest of your tattoos, oh my God.”
Kris looks at the scrawny man who was just snapping at him and shrugs. “Touche.”
Chanyeol rolls his eyes and closes his needle case.
“Do you want me to wrap it up?” he asks, his tone significantly softer.
“Sure, why not?”
Chanyeol grabs the saran wrap from his shelf and a roll of masking tape and sits back on his stool. He wraps the clear plastic around Kris's long foot and tapes the edges down, making sure it won't move. Then he pats Kris's thigh before promptly shoving the older man off of the chair.
“Okay. Get your stuff. I wanna go home.” Kris gets off of the floor, mumbling, and limps off. Chanyeol smiles and takes off his gloves that covered in ink and blood and throws them away before grabbing his jacket and new phone.
He skips out of the parlor and out to the red car in the almost empty parking lot. There's not snow outside, just wet concrete and blooming flowers on all of the trees. Chanyeol's favorite season is fall-because it matches his coloring-but he still has to admit he loves the spring.
By the time Kris comes limping out, Chanyeol's already figured out how to get the door unlocked himself, and is sitting in the passenger seat, tapping his foot.
Chanyeol is woken at six AM the next morning, much to his dismay because, he notes, it's Sunday morning. He has no business being up before one in the afternoon. But he picks up his cell phone anyway, because it's not Kris's tone playing in his ears so it must be some form of urgent.
“What,” he mumbles into the receiver after answering the call. He didn't bother to look at who called.
“Channie-yah!” chirps a familiar voice, and Chanyeol's eyes widen to their full extent. No. “Junghwa has a play tomorrow and he really wants you to come so maybe you could-”
“Junghwa doesn't even know me, Chanshi,” Chanyeol groans into his pillow. His sister's five year old kid is the last person he wants to see, because he's got to be even more troublesome than his sister. “I'm not coming.”
“But-”
“Unlike you, I actually have work. Please leave me alone.” Chanyeol's about to hang up the phone when a small child's voice comes through the phone, just clouded.
“Is that uncle Chanyeol?” the voice says. There's crackling like Chanshi covered the receiver on her end, and there's tones as if a little argument is taking place even though Chanyeol can't hear exactly what. There's even more commotion, and then the same voice pops up. “Are you gonna come see me?” the boy asks, and then the phone is taken from him and he starts to cry. Chanyeol buries his face in his hands. He hates when his sister involves him.
“Well he's excited. We haven't moved, so you know where to find us. You're really selfish, you know that right?” and then the line goes dead.
Chanyeol lets out a yell of frustration and throws his pillow across the room before calling Kris. When Kris answers, Chanyeol can practically hear his scowl.
“What do you want, you big baby? And by the way, my foot still hurts.”
“It's supposed to hurt, I just gave you an open wound,” Chanyeol sighs. From an outsider's point of view, it seems as if Kris would be the tougher of the two when it came to actually receiving tattoos, when truthfully it was the opposite. Kris would whine the whole way through and Chanyeol just sat and took what he got. “I'm leaving for my sister's in a little while, I'm not going to work tomorrow.”
“What the hell does she want with you? How long has it been since you guys have even talked without having an argument? Eight years?” Chanyeol can hear Kris sitting up. He decides to disregard the comment Kris made about their relationship.
“She wants me to come see Junghwa's play. He doesn't even know me and she got his hopes all high.”
“Is Junghwa her new boyfriend?”
“He's her son!”
“She has a son?!” Chanyeol is mystified by how surprised Kris sounds.
“Yeah, I missed my twenty-first birthday for the brat's birth?”
“Oh yeah, I remember!” Kris says, sounding more awake.
“I had to stay home for yours, Minseok's, and Lu Han's, and when mine finally came along I had to go away and watch a human being be pulled from my sister's vagina. And now she wants me to go see the little thing perform.”
“Sorry. Hey, but I found this design you'd look good with, so do you think you could get it before you leave-”
“Ugh, fine.”
“You want to put fucking waves around my ankle?” Chanyeol asks as he sits in Kris's chair at seven in the morning with a bright blue and slightly more realistic version of the simple wave formation in his face.
“Well, you have nothing else on your legs-”
“Except for tails on my thighs.”
“-and I thought it would be a good way to start with an ankle tattoo!”
“If you insist,” Chanyeol mumbles and sets his foot down flat so his ankle is elevated and lays his head back. He's too tired for this, and he hopes Kris is awake enough because a fucked up tattoo would be the perfect thing to sour his mood further.
Kris has already made the stencil, so he wastes no time spraying and sticking the design in purple ink around Chanyeol's skinny ankle. When the buzzing of the needle starts up, Chanyeol sighs. Kris rarely talked while he tattooed, and this design looked like it would take at least two hours.
“She's got abandonment issues, I think. Dad wasn't great to us and left when she was fourteen and I was ten. I mean, she was really close to him and he left without a trace and maybe that triggered it? I dunno. She never really talks to me and now all of a sudden I'm supposed to take a four hour commute for a preschool performance. Does she just want me there to ridicule what I've chosen to do with my life?”
“She's not that type of person,” is the only comment Kris decides to make about the emotional monologue Chanyeol just narrated. The needle continues to run across Chanyeol's skin, and Chanyeol hisses when Kris has to dig in a little over one of the veins that sticks out. Chanyeol tries again to initiate conversation.
“Soooo,” Chanyeol says, stretching out the sound of the vowel. He has a smirk playing with his features, and Kris looks up at him with a puzzled expression.
“What.”
“I just wanted to get your attention. You're so boring in the morning.”
Kris just blows air out of his nose and leans over Chanyeol's ankle again. The latter just decides to give up trying to make the turtle talk. Chanyeol slumps against the back of the chair and contents himself with staring at the older man.
After about five minutes, though, he can't handle the silence.
“So how's your family?” Chanyeol asks, picking at his sweatpants hem. He looks at Kris from under his hair as he refills his liner needle with black ink and going back to outlining the waves.
“Fine. My mom is bugging me about how Lu Han's a better son and blah blah blah.”
“But Lu Han's not her son.” Chanyeol's just a little bit confused.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Kris says in English and rolls his eyes. He had lately developed a habit of swearing in English. “She means he acts more like a son to them than I do. He's always with them, like doesn't he have his own family, God.”
“I think you've masked your lovey-dovey crush for Gege with hate. Your therapist won't be happy.” Chanyeol has a smile on his face as he watches Kris very slowly look up.
“When are you going to let that go? That was like ten or more years ago-”
“Nine.”
“-whatever-and it's not even a relevant argument anymore.”
“It still gets you frazzled, so I'd say it's very relevant.” Chanyeol's feeling like an evil shit as Kris blushes and goes back to tattooing, except now he's driving the needle in deeper than he needs to.
They don't talk for the rest of the hour and a half they are there, and for the whole time Chanyeol is turning around and around in a circle so Kris can get at his ankle more easily. Chanyeol feels triumphant the whole time.
“Okay, I'm going to start driving down in about a half an hour,” Chanyeol says as he bends down to get a couple of t-shirts from his drawer to put into his backpack. It's about ten now, and Kris is sitting on his bed as he packs his things for the night he's going to spend at his sister's.
“You're not taking that horrid motorcycle down, are you?”
“I can't. There's kind of a law against motorcycles on freeways.”
“Then what are you-don't ask.”
“I need your keys, Krissy.”
“You expect me to be stranded at home-”
“You have enough food to sustain you.”
“What about work?”
“Your bus ride will be shorter than mine,” Chanyeol says with a pointed look. Kris sighs and takes his keys from his pocket and hands them over. Chanyeol smiles and puts them in his own pocket and continues to pack.
He gets done shortly, and then he and Kris go down the stairs and into the parking lot where Chanyeol climbs into the driver's seat and Kris the passenger. These are new positions for them, and Chanyeol can't help but feel superior as he starts the engine and drives to Kris's apartment to drop him off.
When they get there, Kris tries to get out of the car right away. “Ker-ris!” Chanyeol snaps, imitating the tone of Kris's host mother. Kris stops and turns to Chanyeol, where he sees the other man pouting cutely.
“What?”
“You're going to leave without a kissy-kiss?” Chanyeol whines and tilts his head to the side and blinks his big eyes. Kris sighs and gives Chanyeol a light peck on his pouted lips and then gets out of the car, waving back as he leaves.
Chanyeol's bored and his ankle is sore, and he does not want to see his sister.
He's about an hour into his drive when he starts to miss the company of someone, because he's either with Kris or someone else, and then he's never denied access to his phone when he wants to talk to someone. But when he's driving, he can neither text nor call, and he has nobody with him. Chanyeol turns on the radio for some sort of background noise, but finds nothing to listen to and soon turns it off again.
Pressing the different pedals as he drives through stoplights in the city after getting off the freeway randomly is hurting his ankle, and he's cursing Kris for putting the design on his right one. To avoid the twinging pain and uncomfortable rub of the tape and plastic, he decides to get back on the freeway.
This is why he always makes Kris drive. The thrill of the motorcycle, with the wind in his face and the city sounds clouded and the volume of the outside seems to be turned up to the max, the leather of his jacket sticks to his neck with sweat and the helmet set on his shoulders; is so different from sitting in the sheltered cab of a vehicle that bores him to the core. At a stoplight right before the freeway entrance, Chanyeol sets his forehead on the steering wheel and quickly dials Kris's phone number and puts the phone on speaker and then sets the device on the passenger seat. When the light turns green, he steps on the gas pedal and turns onto the freeway, whispering for Kris to please pick up.
“What did you do to my car?” Kris says, sounding panicked, when he picks up the phone. Chanyeol laughs at the lack of trust Kris bestows him with large money value items.
“I'm just lonely,” Chanyeol says and pouts as he turns onto the on-ramp and pushes down harder on the gas pedal to make the car go faster to match the speed limit of the speedway. “I don't like being alone.”
“You've been by yourself for like an hour and a half. What are you going to do if I ever want to visit my parents? Hm?”
“Go with you?” Chanyeol says innocently and blinks cutely like he is talking face to face with Kris, and stops himself because Kris can't see him and he's sure he looks silly to everyone who's looking in on him.
“You're hopeless,” Kris says after a sigh. “They probably won't approve of that tattoo on your face, just a heads up.”
“You put it there! You thought it would 'look cool' on me and made me sit through it. I still haven't been able to give you a mark above your collar, and, like, my whole neck and part of my face is covered, like where's the balance!”
“Are you paying attention to the road? I don't want you crashing my baby.”
“Aw, pet names are so cute. Especially when you have one for your car and not me!” Chanyeol would have said ”your boyfriend,” but they hadn't had the talk and he wasn't sure how Kris would react, and he also wants to see his reaction so he just didn't say it.
“I've spent more intimate time with my car.”
Chanyeol scoffs. “I highly doubt that.”
“My car doesn't react to my pet names so it's safe to use them?”
“If it makes you feel better, I call you pet names in my head,” Chanyeol says. His voice is calm and there are no hints of mischief in it, but his face is the exact opposite. He almost feels bad when Kris sounds excited in his response.
“Really?” he says, sounding happy or curious.
“Yeah. Stuff like 'car lover' and 'asshole.' Basic-”
“You shithead.” Kris may-or-may-not be disappointed, it's difficult for Chanyeol to tell over the phone. He just settles to laughing evilly and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he turns on the signal light and switches lanes.
“So what are you doing?” Chanyeol asks after a while, when he has secured himself in the fast lane, getting a move through the ever growing traffic. He knows the way to his sister's, but he hasn't been there for a while and wants to get to the city she lives in soon so he has time to find his way around.
“Lying on my bed. There's nothing else to do because you took my car.”
“I don't have a car. I don't have rich parents like you do,” Chanyeol says and rolls his eyes.
“My parents aren't rich, they just make a good amount of money. And you have a motorcycle, they can't be that much less than cars, can they?”
“They are significantly less, but not cheap. And my dad bought it because he felt bad for leaving his 'little man.'” Chanyeol shifts in his seat. Parents weren't a big subject between the two of them. Kris clears his throat and it sounds like he rolls over.
“I want to tattoo someone, and you're gone and nobody is going to volunteer.” Kris finishes his statement with a whine.
“You tattooed me this morning,” Chanyeol sighs.
“That wasn't a fun tattoo, it was just blues and white and black. I want to do a big vibrant tattoo with lots of color. Like-like an underwater scene that covers the whole thigh. Or a shark on the back. Those would be so fun but you're covered in those places already.”
“That's not entirely my fault. Why not call Sehun?” Chanyeol offers and switches lanes again. He can't drive too long in one lane, it makes him nervous.
“Sehun's probably doing tattoos right now.”
“Jongin?”
“Sucking Sehun's dick.”
“I'm only trying to help, gosh.” He pauses for a moment and then adds. “Ink an orange.”
Based on the noise he gets in return, he would have gotten slapped if he were next to Kris. Chanyeol laughs.
Three agonizing hours of driving later, Chanyeol turns into his sister's neighborhood and grits his teeth as he approaches the small two story house that sits in the center of the row of houses. He parks out front and sits in his car for a moment before rubbing his bare arms and tightening his shoelaces. He then gets out of the car, grabs his backpack, and walks up the steps to the front door.
He's about to walk back to his car when the door opens and a small child comes hopping out and jumping around him. Chanyeol looks at the kid and sees no resemblance to him or to his sister and sighs inwardly. He almost thinks he might be able to convince himself that he has the wrong house when his sister walks out.
She looks exactly how she did when he saw her five years before: her long, dark brown hair in a ponytail, her facial features that look similar to his, except her face is a little longer, and her average height. He smiles at her, she glares at him, and Junghwa grabs his shirt and drags him into the house.
“Junghwa, baby could you please go to your room for a moment?” she says. The little boy nods and runs away, leaving Chanyeol alone in the living room with Chanshi. He dramatically flops onto a sofa, his arms spread out wide and his face exhausted. One isn't supposed to do as much as he has done on a Sunday.
“What do you want to say, c'mon,” Chanyeol drawls, uninterested. His sister has been staring at him from where she's standing in the middle of the room and it's making him uncomfortable.
“You're covered.”
“In ink? Yeah. I know.”
“Why?”
Chanyeol scoffs and sits up straight. “Because I want to be. Are we done here? Because I'd really like to do anything but talk to you right now.” Chanyeol doesn't wait for her to respond, he just gets up with his backpack and walks up the stairs to find Junghwa's room.
“Junghwa! It's uncle Chanyeol,” he says while standing in the middle of the hallway. A door opens and Junghwa peeks his head out.
“Shhh, Iron Man and Captain America are sleeping.” Chanyeol smiles and walks toward the door.
“Do you want me to play with you?” Chanyeol smiles and bends down to the little boy's eye-level. He nods and opens the door wide enough for Chanyeol to come in.
After a many hours of playing with action figures and dealing with little fingers running over the designs on his arms, Chanyeol ends up lying on the floor of the small bedroom in the middle of a ile of markers and hating life.
“I told you, Junghwa, mine are drawn with a magic marker. You don't have any, because they don't look like normal markers.”
“It's not fair, though! Mine always wash away in the bath, and you get to keep yours!”
Chanyeol rolls over and looks at the pouting preschooler who's holding a yellow marker and scribbling on his ankle. Chanyeol takes the marker from him and pushes up his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles tee-shirt and tickles the little boy until he is giggling and lying on the floor.
“I can draw you one, and it will come out, but you have to promise Uncle that you won't show your mama, okay?” Chanyeol says and Junghwa's eyes widen before he nods and starts shoving handfuls of his Crayola markers into Chanyeol's hands.
“I want a giraffe! Because they are tall and orange like you!” Chanyeol pats his rusty-colored hair and pouts, making Junghwa giggle more before handing Chanyeol more markers.
Chanyeol takes a black one and starts to sketch the shape of a giraffe onto the tiny stomach of his nephew.
Junghwa didn't keep his promise. In the middle of dinner, he said that uncle Chanyeollie made me like him! and showed the big giraffe to her. It was a disaster, to put it plainly, because Chanshi got up and grabbed Chanyeol's ear and dragged him out of his seat and into the spare bedroom that housed Chanyeol's bag and started lecturing him about ink poisoning and wrong moves and why are you trying to take my son from me.
Junghwa cried and Chanshi cleaned it off, and Chanyeol was told to stay in the room until morning, which initiated a call to his two favorite friends.
“Hyung!” he said when Minseok droned a hello? over the receiver. Chanyeol had since gotten a new number and only had Lu Han and Minseok's because he broke into Kris's phone and took them. Minseok recognized his voice immediately (who couldn't?) and the quickly made their enthusiastic greetings.
“Chanyeol!” Minseok said, and Chanyeol smiled into his forearm. “You asshole, why didn't you ever call us? It's been like three years.”
“I keep breaking my phone and Kris never gives me your numbers anymore because he's a dickface and likes to keep me out of the loop.”
“Ah, well, Kris will be Kris.”
There's a voice behind Minseok, “Is that Chanyeollie?” Lu Han doesn't give Minseok any time to answer. “Chanyeollie! I missed you! How are you doing?”
“Are you two always together?” Chanyeol says, ignoring the questions shot his way. Both of the men on the other side of the line chuckle.
“We live together, of course.”
“You two are joined at the hip, I swear.”
“It takes a special kind of bond,” Minseok answers coyly, and Chanyeol rolls his eyes.
“Did you hear what I did last week?” Lu Han chimes, and Chanyeol can't help but cringe a little bit. He doesn't really want to know, but the knowledge will come to him anyway. “I told Krissy, but who knows if he told you-”
“I'd be really surprised if you didn't know. Lu Han's been telling everybody.”
“What?” Chanyeol says, exasperated.
“I had a threesome with me and another guy, and a girl! Isn't that cool!”
“And the week before it was two girls and him, and next week he's going for all guys,” Minseok keeps going, and Chanyeol mimes throwing up.
“How does he even meet these people?” Chanyeol asks Minseok.
“Work,” Minseok answers quickly.
“Does he work in a prostitution ring?”
“Ew,” Lu Han says, like the idea is appalling, even though it's practically all he does anyway. “I have a wonderful job.”
“-he's a bartender-” Minseok interjects.
“At a wonderful place.”
“-a bar in the rich part of town-”
“With wonderful people.”
“-rich fucks-”
“And they love me!”
“-they love his 'talents'-”
“Minseokkie hyung, you are ruining the mood!”
“I'm telling our beloved dongsaeng the truth!”
“So was I!”
“You were exaggerating!”
“I was not!”
It sounds like Minseok strangles Lu Han. Chanyeol has a pressing question. “How old do they think he is?”
“Twenty-two!” Minseok calls.
“Lu Han ge!” Chanyeol groans into the phone.
“I pay most of the bills, shut up!” Lu Han's close to the phone again, but he seems out of breath. Chanyeol thinks for a fleeting moment that he just murdered Minseok, but then he comes on.
“Anyway, how is your shop going?”
“Business is slow, but we are just charging more so it's fine.” Chanyeol's phone beeps. He got a message. He interrupts Lu Han in the middle of talking in a dreamy voice about “young entrepreneurs in the cold market of this economy” and says, “Hey, I gotta go. Kris is bugging me. He can't stay Chanyeol-free for long.”
“Call us soon, then!” Minseok says, and the line goes dead. Chanyeol laughs as he opens up the text, and end up rolling his eyes as he looks at the message.
wat r u wearin
Chanyeol didn't text him back, instead he called the older man with an amused huff. It didn't even ring once before Kris's voice chimed. “Ello, ello, ello!” Kris said, and it was obvious from his voice that he had called in the middle of his activities.
“Is this your poor attempt to initiate phone sex? I'm at my sister's house with a preschooler! Why can't you do this when we are in our respective apartments?”
“Because if we're in our respective apartments, I can-ngg-just drive over.”
“Ew, you're doing it right now?”
“Don't pretend you aren't getting hard.”
Chanyeol pauses for a moment, adjusting himself on his bed and pulling his sweats down so he's just in his boxers, his dick already starting to make a pyramid with the plaid fabric, and then grabs the phone again. “So how do we do this?”
“I don't know,” Kris says.
“Are we just going to jerk off on the phone?” Chanyeol hooks his fingers into his waistband and frees his cock before running his fingers over the heated flesh. A stifled moan comes through the receiver and Chanyeol smirks. “You're fingering yourself, aren't you? How many to do have in?”
Chanyeol decides this might not be very difficult after all. He wraps his hand around his member and tugs on it, making a whimper come out of his mouth as Kris stutters out, obviously blushing, “Two.” Chanyeol starts to set a slow pace, tugging and moving his hand up and down his dick.
“Put in another,” he says, and by the small moan that he hears from the older man, he complies right away. He listens to Kris's pants and moans over the phone while he gets more hard, and he cups his balls as he pants for Kris to put in a fourth. They keep going like this until they both come, which isn't very satisfying for either of them, but they have to make due.
“We are never,” Chanyeol says as he comes down from his high and wipes away the white mess with his sweats, “doing that again.”
“That was so lame,” Kris says, and he hangs up, making Chanyeol spit a couple curses at him.
It turns out that Junghwa doesn't even have a big part, or even a remotely medium part. Chanyeol's nephew is embodying a bush, and all he does the whole entire play is crouch in a corner and smile. Chanyeol still congratulates him and hands him flowers after he's done, and pats him on the back. “You did well, bud,” he says and ruffles his hair, masking both his laughter and his disappointment.
Chanyeol doesn't talk to his sister, partly because he's mad she dragged him all of the way down so see his nephew sit in a green jumpsuit with shrubbery taped to him, and partly because he just wants to get out of there, for the rest of the time he is with them. He packs his things, says goodbye to Junghwa, and leaves the house without looking back.
It's probably going to be a long time before he returns, he decides with a grunt as he slides into the driver's seat and starts the engine.
The drive home is just as boring, if not more so, than the drive there, and it's all pretty much owed to the fact that Kris doesn't pick up his phone at all so Chanyeol is forced to bear the horrible hits played on the radio. He drives to Kris's place, and by the time he gets there it's about seven thirty in the evening. He slides out of the car and gets his bag, locking the car behind him and going up the cement stairs that led to Kris's upstairs apartment.
He adjusts his duffel bag on his shoulder and raises his fist, putting a matter-of-fact three knocks on the metal door and standing there, waiting for Kris to open it. A cold breeze blows passed him and goosebumps rise on his bare arms. He rubs them as Kris opens the door. Kris looks at him nervously and then glances behind him, but before he can talk, Chanyeol starts.
“Oh my God, why did you not pick up your phone I was so bored,” Chanyeol says and steps forward, trying to place a kiss on Kris's lips, but Kris steps back.
“Wait-”
“And Junghwa didn't even talk the whole play.” Chanyeol tries again, but Kris moves, again.
“Chanyeol-”
“What are you doing?” Chanyeol asks, and kicks the door closed. He takes another step forward as Kris takes a step back.
“Just wait-”
They both practically fall into the living room, and Chanyeol manages to place a small peck on the older man's lips before he notices who is sitting on the sofa. “Oh,” he says and drops his matted duffel bag and kicks it out of the way he stands up straighter. “Hello Mr. and Mrs. Wu.” He bows to the older couple and smiles sweetly.
Mrs. Wu just drags her eyes up and down Chanyeol's body, taking in his cut-off tank top and ink-covered arms. Chanyeol clears his throat in the awkward atmosphere. Kris and him go to sit down on the sofa across from Kris's parents.
“What were you two doing?” Mr. Wu asks with a raised eyebrow. Chanyeol lets out an awkward laugh.
“We were thinking about going to France and we are trying to embrace the culture of the people,” Chanyeol says quickly, making a face at his own sudden spark of creativity. Kris's mom raised an eyebrow.
“The French kiss the cheeks.”
“Chanyeol never gets it right,” Kris says with a smile and subtly stomps on Chanyeol's foot to stop the defensive string of words from coming out of his mouth. Kris's parents exchange looks of disapproval.
“Nice tattoos,” Mrs. Wu says slowly, and Chanyeol blushes. This is a very awkward environment, to be sitting with rich, homophobic, anti-ink people while Kris and Chanyeol violate almost everything they stand for. That was when Chanyeol noticed that Kris was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and he was covering the hand that had his knuckles inked. Chanyeol made a small noise of realization.
“Right. Well, I got them a while ago, before I realized the harm they would do in my outside life, in the workplace, and in the presence of innocent children. I greatly regret every single one of them,” Chanyeol says and nods, biting the inside of his cheek. Kris's parents nod with slightly more approval.
After another very awkward moment, Kris's parents stand up and brush off their clothing, as if to rid themselves of the cheap fabric of the sofa. Kris wrinkles his eyebrows as his mother says, “Well this has been nice,” in a clipped tone. The older couple leave before Kris and Chanyeol can say anything.
The door closes with a pronounced slam, and Kris lets out a low whistle. “Jesus, that was intense,” he says and leans back against the back of the couch. Chanyeol mimics the older man's movements and lets out a sigh of his own.
“Wanna have sex?” he asks casually.
“Sure.”
“Thank God,” Chanyeol says, exasperated, as he strips off his tank top and turns toward Kris on the sofa. “I've had a really hectic twenty-four hours and I need to relieve some stress.” Kris laughs and takes off his own shirt, letting Chanyeol press their lips together and push him slowly down onto the couch so that his back is on the cushions and Chanyeol is hovering over him.
Chanyeol parts Kris's lips with his and immediately puts his tongue inside Kris's cavern, massaging their tongues together roughly as the hand that isn't holding him up starts to slowly palm Kris's dick through his jeans.
Kris moans softly as a hand goes up to tangle in Chanyeol's slightly messed-up hair. He pushes his hips up into Chanyeol's hand, making Chanyeol smirk into the kiss as he swallows a few more of the older man's moans. Kris's hands go around Chanyeol's waist and start to push his sweats down as Chanyeol separates their mouths and laughs softly. He undoes the button and starts working on the zipper of Kris's skinny jeans.
“We are like horny teenagers, I swear,” Chanyeol says and unzips the zipper all of the way, beginning to palm more roughly except now just through the fabric of Kris's boxers. Kris lets out another soft moan and shakes his head.
“We just like sex.” After a moment, he adds, “Like Lu Han.” Chanyeol stops his moments, shivering slightly at the new light that was shed on Lu Han's bedroom activities.
“Nothing like Lu Han,” he says and kisses Kris roughly, pushing his jeans down to his mid-thigh as he kicks his own sweats off. He places small, open-mouthed kisses to Kris's neck and chest. “He loves sex on a spiritual level.”
Chanyeol mouths Kris's hardening cock through his boxers and smirks when Kris moans loudly, and Chanyeol misses the small, “I love you on a spiritual level” that spills out of Kris's mouth because he is too preoccupied with getting the boxers off-or his hand in, whichever he can do fastest. (Which is get his hand in, but he takes the boxers off anyway.)
“Do you want me to blow you or just fuck you?” Chanyeol asks so comfortably, it's like he's asking Kris if he wants his eggs fried or scrambled. They've done this so many times by now that the topic of sex and anything to do with it can be mentioned in normal conversation and it's totally normal.
Chanyeol looks Kris in the eyes and wrinkles his eyebrows because Kris is blushing unusually red; Kris was sure Chanyeol must have heard him, and he was confused he was acting so normal. He didn't have time to ponder, because Chanyeol was slowly pumping his dick as he was waiting for Kris's response and he couldn't think straight.
“Ah”-Kris moaned softly-“Fuck-just fuck me.”
Chanyeol gives a little smirk of triumph and reaches his hand into the cushions of the sofa, pulling out a small bottle of lube. Kris laughs breathily as Chanyeol coats two fingers in the clear substance and circles them around his ass before slowly pushing one in.
Kris moans again, slightly louder, and throws a leg off of the couch to give Chanyeol more space; his foot hits the coffee table and a metal water bottle falls onto the top of his foot, making him yowl in pain as his still-fresh tattoo is injured. Chanyeol laughs slightly, and rubs a soothing hand on Kris's stomach as he adds a second finger, his own new tattoo hurting slightly at the way he's sitting back on his heels and the skin on his ankles are being stretched.
Kris glares at Chanyeol slightly, cursing him for putting the tattoo there in the first place, again, but it's soon covered up by a breathy moan when Chanyeol adds a third finger and starts spreading his digits to stretch Kris out more. Chanyeol leans forward, using his free hand for support as he hovers over Kris again and kisses him softly, a smile on his face because of Kris's ridiculousness.
Chanyeol adds a fourth finger and crooks his middle finger, hitting Kris's prostate straight on. Kris arches his back and lets out a shaky moan, and Chanyeol smirks as he removes all of his fingers; Kris whimpers at the loss. Chanyeol kisses the older man roughly and gives Kris's neglected cock a couple of tugs before shedding his own boxers and breaking the kiss to coat it with lube and shove the bottle back into the cushions. He cups Kris's hip as he slowly pushes in.
Kris arches his back and lets out a slightly louder moan, putting the leg that's still on the sofa around Chanyeol's waist as he keeps pushing in. When Chanyeol is in all of the way, Kris pants slightly and nods, and Chanyeol smirks again as he starts off at a steady pace. He thrusts a couple of times before angling his hips so he just misses Kris's prostate with every thrust. Kris whines between his moans and Chanyeol leans over him to lightly bite and suck on his collarbone.
His finger rubs little circles on Kris's hip, and he glances down at the bare skin. “You should let me do your hips sometime,” Chanyeol says as he thrusts in deeply, making Kris moan.
“What would you put there?” Kris asks between pants as he places a hand on Chanyeol's waist to try and steady himself as he looks at the younger male.
“Well I didn't get to spend as much time on the scales on your back as I wanted to, so”-Chanyeol angles his hips once more, hitting Kris's prostate and making Kris arch his back and moan loudly-“I could put little detailed scales there.” Kris puts his other arm around Chanyeol's shoulders and twists his fingers into Chanyeol's damp fringe and rolls his hips, nodding.
Chanyeol smiles and starts thrusting faster, hitting Kris's prostate with every thrust. Kris moans loudly underneath him and arches his back more. Chanyeol kisses him lazily, their tongues playing with each other as Chanyeol cups Kris's balls and starts tugging on the neglected cock as he can feel the other man getting close.
The thrusts quicken, and with a small squeeze to his dick, Kris comes white ropes onto their stomachs. He lets out a loud moan that ends with a squeak as he comes and Chanyeol kisses down his neck and comes inside of him. He puts his forehead on Kris's shoulder and groans as he pulls out and lays down on top of Kris, his fingers twisting into his hair.
“Miss me?” Chanyeol teases and kisses Kris's adam's apple. Kris laughs softly and runs his fingers up the knobs of Chanyeol's spine.
“Naw, it was fun not having you on my back for a while.” Chanyeol slaps him lightly. “How was the play?” he asks, and Chanyeol groans.
“Don't talk to me about that.” Kris is about to apologize when Chanyeol rests his forearms on Kris's chest and looks at his face. “I was dragged all of the way down there to watch the nephew I hadn't met crouch in the corner of the stage and be a bush.” Kris laughs again, and Chanyeol pouts.
“How's your sister?”
“Ugh, just as she was last time I saw her.” Kris nods and runs his fingers through Chanyeol's hair. “This couch is small I want to go to your bed,” Chanyeol says after a moment, and Kris smiles before sitting up, making Chanyeol fall back onto the other side of the sofa, lying on his back. Kris stands up and feels something warm dripping down his leg. He shakes his head.
“Your cum is going to drip on the carpet, come on,” he says and holds out his hand to Chanyeol. Chanyeol stubbornly shakes his head.
“Carry me,” he whines and puts his hands up, making jazz hands and blinking cutely. Kris laughs and scoops Chanyeol up in a bridal fashion and starts carrying him to the bedroom.
“You just fucked me and now I have to carry you,” Kris says. “Wow.” Chanyeol shrugs and folds his fingers over his chest, for his stomach is still coated in the older man's cum.
“Just because I'm the better top doesn't mean I like to walk everywhere.”
Kris laughs and and pushes the bedroom door open, lifting Chanyeol's back up more to make sure he doesn't hit his head on the door frame. Chanyeol smiles and places a small kiss on Kris's cheek and Kris sets him on the bed before climbing on himself. “The cum is at my ankles,” Kris says and flops to he's lying on his stomach, and Chanyeol turns to see the white drip-trails of his cum that start from Kris's ass and indeed go to his ankles. He laughs softly.
“What do you want me to do about it?” Chanyeol asks and walks his fingers up and down Kris's shoulder muscles.
“You could lick it,” Kris says in a teasing tone and shakes his butt at Chanyeol. Chanyeol laughs and crawls down to Kris's lower leg and licks a straight line up to his knee and swallowing the white substance.
“Like that?” he asks and Kris laughs and nods. Chanyeol smirks slightly and does the other leg up to that point before licking all of the way up to Kris's ass. Chanyeol starts to knead his butt cheeks as he leans up to whisper in Kris's ear. “Want me to clean you out, Master?” in an almost-successful seductive tone and Kris both blushes and laughs under his breath.
Kris just clears his throat and gets up so he is almost on his hands and knees, except he's resting on his forearms; thus triggering the second, third, and fourth rounds of their activities, where Chanyeol only falls off of the bed once and Kris bottoms the whole time.
Neither of them check the time, but based on the amount of light that is coming in from the window and going through the curtains, it's pretty late when they finally settle for lying under the covers with Chanyeol's head on Kris's chest as the older blonde runs his fingers through Chanyeol's copper-colored hair. Chanyeol is close to falling asleep, the fatigue in his muscles from the extended physical activity starting to set in, as Kris asks, “What are we even? I mean we act like we're dating but it's been months and all that's official is that we're treating this like a friends-with-benefits sort of thing.”
Chanyeol laughs softly. “Is that a long-winded proposal that I officially become your boyfriend?” Kris blushes, but Chanyeol's doesn't see it. Kris clears his throat and plays it cooly.
“Sure, why not?”
Chanyeol only laughs in response; twenty minutes later they are both snoring loudly, and there previous (cute) position is destroyed, leaving them in separate (unattractive) places on the bed with more than one private part and/or testicle on display.
omg this took so long, but it officially takes the throne off of Imagine Dragons for being the longest one-shot I've ever written, because this one is like 100 words longer. anywayyyyyy and if anyone wants to make any fanarts for this?? or posters because i got lazy with my graphics and they suck anyway... the point is i'll use them
well let's see when the next comes out *throws hat into the crowd*