just a short, short sechen drabble i wrote for the lovely @kimjongwaae
it’s probably a problem of distance.
jongdae is too distant. sehun is used to have his members always close, to feel their presence under his fingertips. if he leans over just a little more he can feel their warmth and it takes another heartbeat for them to be in his hands. it's a matter of identity, of possession.
sehun collects moments, he collects touches, he collects people, uncoiling them in his mind when he feels too lonely at night, when the silence in his head screams and the only thing that can scream louder is the warm heartbeat of someone else thrumming under his palms. sehun lives with his hands splayed on junmyeon's collarbones, caressing chanyeol's arms, slumped on kyungsoo's shoulder, fingers resting on jongin's knee or carded in baekhyun's hair, light feather touches at minseok's side and the relief of his head resting on yixing's shoulder. but jongdae is so far away.
for sehun, owning jongdae is not a matter of touch as much as it is a matter of sound. sehun is lonely but he hides it well, he tucks his secrets in the hollow between his fingers and annihilates them with the warmth of someone else's skin, but jongdae is not made of skin and blood. he is made of laughter and scream, he is made of angels singing, of resolution and honesty. sehun doesn’t need to touch him, not when he’s trapped in the sound of his voice, in the little sighs, in the crumpled words, in broken notes jongdae forgets everywhere, a trail of crumbs for sehun to follow when he’s lost.
jongdae avoids sehun's touch, or maybe sehun is the one who's avoiding jongdae. maybe sehun is a little bit scared, maybe sehun is a little bit in love with him. maybe he's afraid that jongdae will find the loneliness sehun hides inside his sleeve and in the hollow of his throat, together with the words he will never have the courage to say. sehun collects people, everyone but jongdae, but maybe he wants someone to collect him too. until one day, unexpectedly, jongdae takes his hand and steals him away.
(jongdae just waits for the right moment. he’s never been that much of a collector, but there’s no one better than him at pretty things and pretty boys.)
The first alpha to sense an omega's first heat gets to knot him first- those are the rules. Except Sehun thinks he might die of pleasure before Seunghyun finally knots him.
set in this same au: ♥ there will be another installment in the next few days bc i’m mean but not this mean and i think that kind of cliffhanger is actually forbidden by the law or something
Baekhyun wears pale blue at the wedding. It’s the traditional color of Under-The-Waterfall. Pale blue and black, the color of his hair as it falls haphazardly over his forehead. He’s not allowed to cut it and he can’t even move it out of his face. Chanyeol is the only one who can touch it, when he braids it to seal their union.
The ceremony is boring and complicated – like Under-The-Waterfall is most of the time. In the Moonland, weddings are only celebrated through matching tattoos, lover braids and sex. The signs of the consummated marriage are worn proudly, showcased for everyone to see the morning after, but there aren’t any grand displays of wealth, no empty vows in front of the entire reign. Marriage is holy and only belongs to the two lovers.
But Baekhyun is not his lover, this Chanyeol can clearly tell. Baekhyun is a recalcitrant prisoner dragged to be sacrificed in front of his gods in the name of peace and safety. Chanyeol is not that different. His parents disapprove of this union, Baekhyun’s parents disapprove of this union, their entire kingdoms disapprove of this union. But without this union the Moonland will fall soon, swept away by an implacable disease that only the people of the Waterfall can cure. And without the military power of the Moonland tribes protecting the border, the rogues of the mountains will come and destroy everything and everyone on the valley, including the city hidden under the waterfall.
They need each other to survive, but they don’t trust each other enough, just like him and Baekhyun.
Chanyeol doesn’t look at his husband for the entire duration of the ceremony and the party, not even when they’re required to kiss and his lips barely grace Baekhyun’s tense jaw. No one was expecting them to kiss for real anyway, just like they don’t expect them to have sex - this is just a show, a political move. After all, who in the Moonland would ever want to fuck a pale, measly kid of the lake? (Chanyeol wants, oh, he wants to fuck Baekhyun so much.) Who in Under-The-Waterfall would ever want to fuck a barbarian of the tribes? Baekhyun certainly doesn’t, for now, but he will. Chanyeol will make sure of it.
Tonight though, Chanyeol walks past the hostility in his newly-wed husband’s eyes, past the tension in his body, the way his hands curl into fists at his sides, his legs twitching with the unexpressed instinct to just <i>flee</i> - away from Chanyeol, away from a family and a reign that gave him up like this. But the door is locked and heavily guarded. Baekhyun’s father has been adamantine. This wedding must be consumed.
No one expected the people of the Moonland to pull their weight like this, to demand something from the people who were supposed to help them, but Chanyeol has played his card fairly well and only now, in the sanctuary of their shared bedroom only barely lit by the moonlight, he allows himself to look into his husband’s eyes. But first, just because he can, just because he feels like being an asshole today – he didn’t want to be here, he never wanted to be here, but he’s going to make the best out of his new life – his eyes rake along the length of Baekhyun’s body, taking in the way the fabric hugs his waist and hips. He stares, taking and taking and never hiding his curiosity – he can do it, because he is Baekhyun’s husband, he has every right to do it – caressing Baekhyun’s body until he reaches his eyes. Baekhyun is shaking. With contempt or hunger or fear, Chanyeol doesn’t know. He wonders, if he tried to touch his husband now, would Baekhyun hit him? He doesn’t need to risk it, though.
“Undress yourself for me.”
Baekhyun looks at him, defiant, hateful.
“No.”
Chanyeol simply laughs and finally starts to tug at the knots of the complicated ceremonial vest they made him wear. It’s black, one of the colors of Under-The-Waterfall. Black and pale blue, and the green of the deep bottom of the lake. They didn’t let him wear the golden and bronze of the Moonland, the ochres, browns and red of the land where he was born. He used to wear comfortable clothes, to be light and fast, lethal against the enemies, not layers over layers of silk and velvet wrapped around his body like choking vines. The ominous sound of ripped silk fills the room as he finally manages to get rid of the garment, letting it fall on the ground in a heap of expensive fabric.
Chanyeol strips until there’s not between him and the heavy air of the room, and when he turns towards Baekhyun, he finds him staring stubbornly at the ceiling.
“Do you need help with that?” he asks, pointing to the rigid, intricate swirls of pearls and precious stones embroidered on Baekhyun’s silk vest.
“I don’t need your help,” says Baekhyun, still standing awkwardly in front of the bed.
“It will be pretty inconvenient for me to take your virginity while you’re wearing that thing.”
Baekhyun’s blush is so violent Chanyeol is able to see it in the dim light of the moon.
“You know our marriage will not be valid until I do it, and I didn’t give up my freedom for a fake arrangement.”
“Would you really condemn your people to death just because you want to humiliate me? If the marriage isn’t validated, my father won’t send the healers to your village. Are you so bad of a prince that…”
Chanyeol pushes him down on the bed and climbs over his body so fast he sees surprise twist into fear in Baekhyun’s eyes. The decorations of Baekhyun’s ceremonial vest bite into his naked skin but he doesn’t care. He holds Baekhyun down with his weight, one hand on his neck, the other one holding his husband’s right hand – the left is twisted safely between their bodies.
“Do you think my people like me being here? Do you think they enjoy seeing their prince, the same warrior they’ve followed to battle countless times, the same warrior they would’ve happily died for, groveling at your father’s feet like a beggar? Eating from your hands like a dog? They would rather die than seeing me humiliating myself like that. You don’t know what pride is, prince Under-The-Waterfall, but I won’t throw my tribe’s pride away like this. Now, please, undress, or I’ll have to do it for you.”
condominio!au aka i have to stop stalking piurly’s twitter and ask (although there’s not enough condominio in this fic and i thereby declare it sucks)
The day Baekhyun, sweet, smiley Baekhyunwith his sugar ass and too tight leather pants, came to cry on Chanyeol’s doorbegging for a place to stay, Chanyeol simply thought that karma had finally decided to pay him a visit, giving him a chance to act on the ominous, terrible crush he’s always nurtured towards the slightly older guy. When Chanyeol let Baekhyun enter, allowing him to share his apartment, his toothbrush glass in the bathroom, his cereals box, his underwear drawer and ultimately his bed, he would’ve never imagined that no less than three weeks later he would’ve found himself engaged, more whipped than cream and ready to shed his pants at Baekhyun’s mere whisper of, “Come here tiger!”
He thought things could have progressed more slowly. A couple of dates, romantic walks under the moonlight, holding hands under the table of the coffee shop for a few months at least, because Chanyeol is an old school romantic… He hadn’t calculated the Baekhyun factor, that variable BBH that slammed the other boy upon the skies right onto him, like a hurricane, like a disaster waiting to happen.
Chanyeol was used to hog all the control for himself – this terribly unhealthy attitude is what brought him to pursue the position of administrator of the apartment block, by the way, and every time he looks at the tag saying Administrator in golden, elegant letters his heart takes a leap of joy and pride. He worked well with schedules and limits and fences to keep everything neat and in order in the pretty little garden of his existence. That’s it, until Baekhyun came and set fire to the garden. And Chanyeol’s clothes. And his dick. Especially his dick lately always feels like it’s on fire and Chanyeol is afraid it’ll fall off if he and Baekhyun don’t get out of the honeymoon phase soon.
Baekhyun is extremely cute, and sexy, and handsome, and adorable, and skilled in bed and… obnoxious. He’s the worst roommate ever. He throws his clothes to the ground in messy piles and always makes sure Chanyeol’s clothes join them on the floor, the dirty floor he should’ve cleaned but that he forgot to clean in favor of trying to make pancakes and almost destroying the kitchen. When Chanyeol tries to get past him and tidy up the room – he should at least fold the clothes before laying them on the chair – Baekhyun falls on his knees and sucks him, smirking around hic cock, practicing deep throating and pouting around the head of Chanyeol’s erection when he finds out he still can’t take Chanyeol all the way in.
Baekhyun always votes to do the dishes later and Chanyeol has learnt to stop trying to clean them himself because it annoys Baekhyun to a great extent when Chanyeol is too busy doing the chores to cuddle with him in front of Immortal Song 2, and an annoyed Baekhyun who’s not monopolizing all of Chanyeol’s attention is also an exhibitionist Baekhyun whose only purpose in life is get Chanyeol who watch at him only. He’s also very good at keeping Chanyeol’s eyes glued to his body because when Chanyeol tries to do the dishes Baekhyun spreads himself on the kitchen table like dessert and begins fingering himself in earnest, moaning loudly just for the sheer pleasure of making Chanyeol blush madly and give Zitao of the third floor something to gossip about with his neighbor-next-door Kyungsoo. Chanyeol has long stopped being surprised of the venomous stares he receives from both the residents of the third floor whenever they have a chair meeting between the residents of the block.
But, to continue with the list of reasons why Baekhyun is the worst flatmate ever, he always squeezes the toothpaste from the middle, he never cleans the toilet and whenever he takes a bath he always, always, floods the entire house with water and bubbles.
“That’s not… entirely… my fault,” croons Baekhyun, forcing the words to get out of his mouth even as he’s breathless and panting harshly. “You’re the one who insists on fucking me inside the batht-”
The last words are pronounced in a rush and he has to bite his lips to keep sounds from escaping as Chanyeol’s fingers, two of them, crooks inside of him, rubbing teasingly so close to his prostate but barely gracing it. It’s not a mistake, of course, Chanyeol knows very well where Baekhyun’s prostate is. He could find with his eyes closed and his hands tied but that would mean he’d have to use his tongue and Baekhyun would enjoy it way too much. This is punishment, not a prize.
“I’m not the one who insists on bathing together, though, nor I’m the one who jumps on your lap and wiggles, nor I’m the one who bounces on your dick splashing water everywhere so allow me to count flooding the house between the bad, bad things you’ve done, Baekhyun.”
This time he presses with his index, flat on Baekhyun’s prostate, keeping him there even when Baekhyun keens and trashes, torn between scooting back, away from the scorching sensation burning in his belly, and canting his hips up, to get more and more of Chanyeol.
“I want to play a game with you, Baekhyun, we will now check how many times you’ve forgotten to do your chores this week, which is… six times,” he concludes brightly, after a rapid look at the chores schedule. His finger is still pressing relentlessly inside Baekhyun, making him whimper softly from the oversensitivity. When Baekhyun tries to get away, Chanyeol’s other hand hooks around his hip and drags him back into the fingers hooked inside him, his legs spreading even more.
“Now you get to decide,” he blows softly against Baekhyun’s neck, licking the salty sweat right from Baekhyun’s pulse, biting softly as he pumps two fingers inside him. “You can either choose to come six times…” He pauses to admire Baekhyun going pale, all the color drained from his face at Chanyeol’s words. There’s no way he can come six times, he shakes his head.
“…Or I can bring you on the edge for six times, and for six times I block your orgasm. What do you say?”
If Baekhyun was pale before, now he’s positively grey. Chanyeol doesn’t give him the time to think about it, he just takes his fingers, all sticky from the lube, only to add more lubricant and push inside again, one, two, three fingers – he could do four, but he’s less precise with four fingers. Four fingers is for stretching and filling Baekhyun until he’s so full he thinks he’s going to explode. Three fingers is for the surgical job of teasing him to the brink of insanity while he admires the hypnotizing show of Baekhyun’s crack sucking his digits in.
Baekhyun was already too worked up, too tense, too breathless, and it doesn’t take long at all for Chanyeol to recognize the signs of his release in the clenching and unclenching of his muscle, the way his fingers tear at the sheets and his teeth tug at his lips, in his loud, lewd cries.
And this is something they don’t do too often, he either fucks Baekhyun vanilla or he lets Baekhyun fuck him, three times in a row, until they both can’t feel their legs and Chanyeol goes to sleep feeling dirty and gross and like the happiest man in the world. He likes those times too, when Baekhyun takes him in the mess he has created, over the floor, on a carpet made of their undone clothes, when Baekhyun turns him on so much that he can’t help but spill his load over the shirt he was supposed to wear at the chair meeting of the block. This is something unusual for them, him taking control over Baekhyun like this, making him gasp, making his back curve so much it leaves the floor in its haste to chase the pleasure.
“So, what do you say Baekhyun? What punishment do you choose? Overstimulation or orgasm denial?”
Baekhyun’s are glazed, burning and burnt. His entire skin looks like it’s on fire, as red has spread everywhere on his ribs, around his nipples, over his neck and on his cheekbones and ears. He’s seconds away from coming and minutes away from begging Chanyeol, whatever punishment he chooses in the end. His eyes glow and he smiles at Chanyeol. This will be a long night.
kinda epic fail at being rated, kinda sequel to this fic, kinda unbetaed
Chanyeol doesn’t talk with the prince of Under-The-Waterfall. He watches him carefully, lingers around his betrothed like a mountain lion circling his prey, waiting for the moment the king of Under-The-Waterfall will tell his son that his future husband has formally requested to have him in his bed.
He waits and laughs because the wedding day is growing close and the young prince still doesn’t know. When he realizes that Chanyeol is mocking him, laughing at him, a cold, quiet fury fills Baekhyun’s eyes, insidious and mysterious like the deepness of the lake where Chanyeol used to swim in his teens and where he almost drowned once, because of a stupid bet. Maybe this is what it is, a bet, a challenge, a gamble with Chanyeol’s life. Every step he takes towards Baekhyun, dancing around him, getting close enough to choke the boy with his presence and catch his scent, just to get out of reach when Baekhyun’s eyes widen impossibly, Chanyeol feels like that day, when he almost drowned trying to reach the rock at the center of the lake. He’s thirteen again and he’s the prince and a prince doesn’t back up, so he ducks his head underwater and he swims beyond the border, beyond the reef, where the water flows cold and dangerous, too fast for his tired limbs to keep up. But he doesn’t go back, because this is a challenge, the rock is just a few strokes of his tired arms away and this is too fun, too dangerous, too heady and addictive. When his eyes meets Baekhyun’s, he can feel the same ice in his bones and it makes his brain go numb and his chest constrict, he can’t breathe and his heart hammers violently against the water.
Three days before the wedding Baekhyun storms in Chanyeol’s chamber at dawn, hair a mess and face redder than Chanyeol has ever seen it. Even his clothes are in disarray, robes all ruffled and wrinkled, almost like someone has just slammed him against a wall and debauched him. It’s a nice change from his usual calm and composed demeanor.
“Why did you do that?” he growls, and Chanyeol has to turn on his side pretending to be still half-asleep to hide the knowing smirk. So his father has told him, in the end.
“I don’t know what are you talking about, Your Majesty. Could you please get out? This is my room and I was sleeping.”
He feels the rage, pouring from Baekhyun’s skin in waves and licking at his back. It’s nothing like Chanyeol’s rage, which explodes like a fire in the sky and burns everything before dying, as quick as it was born. No, Baekhyun’s rage has been nurtured, day after, day, it’s a layered, implacable drive that consumes and devours everything. It’s silent and subtle and so strong, like an underwater stream, ready to pull Chanyeol down.
“Get up,” orders Baekhyun, putting all his hatred and contempt in those two words. “Get up, I’m your betrothed and I wish to talk to you.”
“Well, maybe you’ll talk to me later,” suggests Chanyeol, still smiling, unseen, in the soft curve of his pillow.
“No, I want to talk to you now.”
Unsatisfied with the lack of response, Baekhyun pulls on the sheets, baring Chanyeol’s naked chest. It’s a pity, considers Chanyeol, he would’ve liked to see the face of the prince if he had dared to uncover him further, for he sleeps completely naked. Maybe then, the redness on Baekhyun’s face would’ve come from embarrassment and not rage.
“Get up, I said!” repeats Baekhyun, and one of his hands comes up to smack Chanyeol’s shoulder. Chanyeol feels it coming with the instinct of a fighter, years of training making his muscles react all at once. He doesn’t even have to think about it. He turns abruptly, traps Baekhyun’s wrist in his fist, tight enough to make him wince and cry out in pain, then he pulls the boy down with him, flipping their position positions until Baekhyun is panting under him. It takes no more than a second to have the prince trapped, only his clothes and the sheets tangled between their bodies.
“No one hits me,” he says, smiling. Baekhyun slaps him with his other hand, too fast for Chanyeol to catch him, and Chanyeol feels the sharp sting on his face. He licks his lips while Baekhyun bites his own.
“Get used to it,” smirks Baekhyun, and Chanyeol wants to bite the triumph out of his mouth and taste it himself. He thrusts down against Baekhyun’s leg, feeling the other boy go still as a statue, tense and uncomfortable at Chanyeol’s nudity and their position.
“If you don’t let me go immediately, I’ll call the guards.”
“Will you call the guards during our wedding night?” Chanyeol teases, wishing he had at least one hand free to cup Baekhyun’s flushed face in it and keeps it still in order to kiss him.
“There won’t be a wedding night,” hisses Baekhyun like an angry cat, and his messy fringe falls on his eyes when his head jerks. His hair is getting long, it’s still nothing like Chanyeol’s, but it can be braided and that’s what Chanyeol will do. Braid and ink Baekhyun, put an invisible chain on his neck, much more subtle than the ring Baekhyun will put on his finger.
“So what will you do, will you hide from my dick under the bed?”
“How dare you…”
The room is cold, Under-The-Waterfall is cold and the prince he meets in the hallways every day is so cold, still like the frozen lake in winter, only shaken by the rumble of the waterfall. But Baekhyun right now is bursting with repressed energy, like seasonal floods at the beginning of summer, and Chanyeol is a much better swimmer now than he was seven years ago and he wants a taste of adventure, so he lowers his head, aims straight for Baekhyun’s lips, smiling to himself when the other boy hides his face in the pillow and tries to kick him.
He lets him go, before Baekhyun can get a real chance to struggle against his hold.
He gets up and opens the window, and pretends he doesn’t see the way scarlet spreads on Baekhyun’s face when he takes in how naked Chanyeol is.
“You think I’m going to force myself onto you? I guess you do, you think we’re a primitive, wild and barbarian tribe, but I won’t do it, Baekhyun of Under-The-Waterfall. I know the rumors, Your Majesty, everyone thinks that this marriage is your father’s victory over mine, but we both know better. Your borders are threatened, you need strong allies and you won’t get them if this marriage is not valid according to our laws. And I’m not going to make it valid, I’m not going to braid your hair and let you braid mine, I’m not going to carve our names on our skin, until you willingly give me what I want.”
Baekhyun pales, grits his teeth, his fist balled up at his sides so hard his nails are probably going to cut skin.
“I came here to ask you to stop this madness, but I was wrong. You’re the one who demanded this to happen. You wish to punish me as much as you feel punished yourself.”
“Yes, I do.”
“I thought you were primitive, wild and barbarian, but you’re even worse. You’re cruel. You’re evil. You think this isn’t forcing yourself onto me, even if you’re not using violence?”
Chanyeol doesn’t answer and the door slams on his back, but he doesn’t chase his betrothed.
The prince of the Moonland has grown up, he’s become a warrior, strong and independent. He could swim three times the distance between the shore and the rock at the center of the lake now, defying the insidious streams without feeling the strain of fatigue. He knows he could. But it’s no use, because he’s drowning again, and the streams dragged him down at the bottom of the lake, where the dark water in Baekhyun’s eyes is the only thing he can see.
Title: Tell me your wish (I’m Genie for you, boy!)
Rating: pg13
Pairing: Chanyeol/Baekhyun
Wordcount: 6.7k
Warning: mentions of underage handjobs, unbetaed
Notes: I just remembered I never crossposted Chanyeol's birthday fic here.
Summary: Chanyeol receives a mysterious oil lamp for his birthday. With the lamp come three wishes, a wicked genie and true love.
(“I am Baekhyun, the genie of the lamp. Your wish is my command, Master.”)
