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This Night

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The click of the hotel door is finite. Chanyeol stands in the dark doorway and pulls the black hat from his head to stuff it into his coat pocket. Baekhyun is still. Neither move to turn on the light, the switch only a few steps away.

“Why did you invite me over, Chanyeol?”

Despite the darkness, Chanyeol can see Baekhyun’s unwavering stare from the large window further into the luxury hotel room.

“Because I wanted to see you.”

“Is that the only reason?” Baekhyun flips the light switch, illuminating the room with light. This room is just like all the other rooms Chanyeol booked for their dates, unnecessarily large and lavish.

Baekhyun’s glare is hard, stage makeup still on his face. His light brown hair is styled with a heavy bang, the fringe falling on top of his dark eyeshadow.

“What other reason is there?” Chanyeol places his hands into his dress pants pockets, having just come from a meeting.

“Your goons ambushed me before my performance.”

Chanyeol walks further into the hotel room in the hopes Baekhyun will follow. He unbuttons his black leather trench coat and places it on the back of a desk chair. When he turns around, Baekhyun is still rooted at his spot by the door.

“I bought you gifts.”

“I don’t want them.” Baekhyun’s retort is automatic.

Chanyeol smirks at Baekhyun’s statement. He says he hates gifts but the grey wool mid-calf coat he’s wearing was a gift from him.

“Don’t smirk, asshole.” Baekhyun narrows his eyes. He could leave. No one is stopping him but himself.

With a sigh, Chanyeol strolls to the closest loveseat, that happens to face Baekhyun, and sits. He toys with his gold Rolex watch. After about a minute of silence, only the coarse winds from winter hitting the glass window between them, Baekhyun states, “Answer my question.”

“I said I wanted to see you. Is that wrong?” Chanyeol continues to fiddle with his watch, eventually taking it off and placing it on the arm of the chair.

“It does when you have a family.”

“I’m not the first mobster to have a lover on the side and I won’t be the last.” Chanyeol’s tone is even. He finally meets Baekhyun’s eyes. “What does that make you, a homewrecker?”

Baekhyun is silent at Chanyeol’s words.

To throw salt on the wound, Chanyeol continues, “My family never stopped you before.”

“Are you in trouble again?” A solemnity crosses Baekhyun’s features. He walks further into the hotel room and leans against the wall opposite of Chanyeol.

“Not any more than usual.” Chanyeol’s voice lacks emotion. One of the reasons why he’s so taken with the stripper that also doubles as his lover is he can be vulnerable in front of him. But tonight, he wants to forget about what might happen in the coming days.

Baekhyun rolls his eyes at Chanyeol’s answer. He crosses his arms and stares in the direction of the large window. The snow falls with patience. The slight storm paired with the bright lights of the city, the view is quasi-ideal. It’s a lifestyle that doesn’t and will never belong to him.

“Baby,” Chanyeol gestures toward Baekhyun, “sit with me.”

“You had your goons come pick me up so you can have one last good fuck that your husband can’t give you any more?” Hurt shines in Baekhyun’s eyes.

“I’m not in harm’s way,” Chanyeol states matter-a-factly.

“Then why am I here?”

“Would you rather be at that club, tearing your clothes off for horny middle-aged women?” Chanyeol didn’t like to throw Baekhyun’s occupation of choice in his face but they’re wasting precious time together.

Baekhyun is silent once again. He avoids eye contact with Chanyeol.

“Chanyeol, be honest with me.”

At Baekhyun’s words, Chanyeol stands and crosses the room.

“My offer still stands, Baekhyunnie.” He’s an arm’s length from Baekhyun. “I’ll pay for anything you need. You don’t have to go back there tomorrow.”

Baekhyun scoffs at Chanyeol’s words, “So I can be your whore full time?”

“I never—”

“—you don’t deny it.” Baekhyun finally meets Chanyeol’s gaze, “Like you haven’t denied anything else.”

“My husband probably thinks you’re my whore,” Chanyeol states nonchalantly. He sticks his hands into his dress pant pockets at Baekhyun’s look of disgust.

“Does he know about us?” Baekhyun whispers.

“You’ve never cared before.”

“I care now.”

With a sigh that lingers in Chanyeol’s chest, he pulls his hands from his pockets in favor of grabbing Baekhyun’s wrists. The latter doesn’t fight him. “Baekhyunnie, I had Sehun and Kris come get you because something big is going to happen.”

“What’s going to happen?”

“I can’t say.”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes again at Chanyeol’s ambiguity. When Chanyeol pulls him forward, initiating an embrace, he falls into his arms with ease.

“I care about you a lot, you know that, right?”

Baekhyun stares at the jacket pocket of Chanyeol’s pinstriped blazer.

Chanyeol continues, “When we’re together, the only thing that matters is us. Not my family, or mob lifestyle. I’m Chanyeol the man, not Chanyeol the boss of the gangsters in this district.”

At Chanyeol’s words, Baekhyun’s hands curl up the former’s back. His fingers grip the material of the blazer when Chanyeol attempts to break away.

“Baekhyun?” Chanyeol’s voice is soft and full of affection. A hand leaves Baekhyun’s waist and touches the skin under his chin so they can make eye contact.

“I don’t believe you.” Truth shines in Baekhyun’s eyes, alongside something Chanyeol has a hard time identifying. In moments like these, Baekhyun resembles a kicked puppy. A puppy who was abused by life.

It was this specific look in his eyes that enamored Chanyeol all those months ago in that strip club. Baekhyun dolled up with a full face of makeup, glitter all over his body with a see-through mesh top and black leather pants. His smile as he treated the stage as his lover, men and women alike screaming for him. He seemed satisfied with himself.

Until their eyes met across the room.

It was fleeting but he saw it. The self-hatred. An emotion Chanyeol frequently recognizes in himself.

Despite their fighting, he's giving himself to Chanyeol. He’s showing weakness.

Chanyeol tilts his head and closes his eyes, diminishing the gap between their lips. When they touch, Baekhyun’s grip on his blazer relaxes.

When they part, only a breath away, Chanyeol whispers against Baekhyun’s lips, “I want you, Baekhyunnie.” Within the next moment, Chanyeol connects their lips again, sliding his against Baekhyun’s pliant ones. They move, a heat building between the two. Chanyeol pushes their bodies closer together, Baekhyun’s back bumping against the wall. With the introduction of tongue, he pushes his thigh between Baekhyun’s legs, rubbing him through the tear-away pants.

Baekhyun’s hands slide from Chanyeol’s back to his chest. He pushes him gently. At the break, Chanyeol licks his lips lewdly, making a show of it.

“Let me shower first.” Baekhyun’s voice is quiet yet raw. He breaths heavily through his mouth.

Chanyeol attempts to reconnect their lips, desire fresh in his veins but is stopped by Baekhyun’s hands on his chest. “Baekhyun—” He whines, voice cracking under his arousal.

“Please.” Baekhyun pushes Chanyeol away with more force, breaking their embrace.

“Together?”

“Alone.”

Chanyeol frowns at Baekhyun’s answer but watches as the man retreats into the bathroom.

 

 

 


 

 

 

Chanyeol sucks on the skin of Baekhyun’s neck as he thrusts himself into his awaiting body. Baekhyun’s nails rake down Chanyeol’s bare back leaving red screaming marks in its wake. He voices his pleasure through breathily moans of Chanyeol’s name. He wraps his legs around Chanyeol’s hips.

The bedframe taps against the wall and the mattress creaks under their weight.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck—” Baekhyun pants as he arches his back.

Chanyeol’s phone rings, competing with their cries for each other.

“You’re the only one for me—it’s just you, only you, baby.” Chanyeol babbles into the crook of Baekhyun’s neck, his breath warming the fresh bruises.

“Would you leave him for me?” Baekhyun whines pathetically, his hand snaking between their bodies to finish himself off.

Chanyeol sits up, changing the angle. The city lights illuminate the sparkle in Baekhyun’s eyes and the sweat on their bodies. He shudders when he feels Baekhyun tighten.

The phone continues to ring.

“Leave my husband?”

Baekhyun’s free hand grabs onto Chanyeol’s forearm, blunt fingernails cutting into the skin. He nods and throws his head back, the pleasure building.

“Yeah.”

With a gasp of Chanyeol’s name, Baekhyun cums, his load landing on his chest. He cries out as Chanyeol succumbs to his orgasm. Chanyeol ejaculates into the condom and whimpers pathetically, nose scrunched at the intensity.

Chanyeol pulls out and falls onto his back beside Baekhyun. He breathes heavily through his mouth, “Fuck.”

The phone rings incessantly. The ringtone beginning a moment after it ends. Without getting off the bed, Chanyeol scrambles for his phone and picks it up on the sixth ring.

“Chanyeol, it’s a shit show!”

The line is busy and Kris’ voice fades in and out.

Chanyeol croaks, “What?”

Baekhyun stirs next to him, his body still experiencing aftershocks. He lies on his side and watches Chanyeol through lidded eyes.

“The hit failed. There was a rat!”

The ever-self-composed Kris is frantic. Chanyeol can hear other people shout and various doors slam.

“How in the hell did it fail?” Chanyeol sits on the edge of the bed with newfound energy and searches through his blazer’s pockets for his burn phone. When he finds it, he has a list of message notifications that the hit was a failure.

“Only two of the guys came back.”

There’s a sound of a cabinet door opening and Kris loading a gun.

“Came back as in where you guys are?” Chanyeol raises his voice. He balances his phone between his ear and shoulder as he pulls his pants up his legs.

“Yes.”

“Leave.” His voice is grave.

Chanyeol strides in front of the large window. He gazes at the city view as snow falls on the slumbering streets. “Listen to me Kris, tell everyone to leave. Take whatever reports that you can find,” He starts to pace from the window to the bed that Baekhyun is currently sitting on, eyes full of worry, “and leave. Burn the place down if you have to.” He stops in front of the king-sized bed, “How long has it been?”

“About 10 minutes.”

“Call me when you reached our safe spot.”

“Understood.”

The call ends and Chanyeol drops his phone onto the carpeted floor. His hand combs through his silver hair. The roots show but with the way everything is going, he’ll have to dye it back black and perhaps cut it.

“Chanyeol—” Baekhyun wraps himself in the bed sheets, only his shoulders are exposed. His previously blow-dried and pressed hair is a mess from the shower and sex.

Chanyeol wordlessly stalks to the desk chair where his leather jacket lays. He fishes for a box of cigarettes and a lighter. He moves to the window and slides it open. Unbeknownst to Baekhyun, the large window is actually a patio door. He lights the cigarette without a beat, taking a long drag from it, exhaling through the small crack. The smoke floats up and away into the night sky.

“Chanyeol—” Baekhyun tries again.

“Fuck,” Chanyeol shakes his head as he tries to rationalize how the hit, the most important hit, a hit he told them they can’t fuck up, became fucked up, and how they had the balls to return. Potentially leading the opposing group of gangsters to their hideout, “Fuck—Fuck!” He stomps his foot like a child and takes another drag.

“Baby.”

Chanyeol turns to face Baekhyun at the pet name. His eyes are dark and wild. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

With a trail of sheets behind him, Baekhyun climbs off the bed and wobbles to join Chanyeol at the window. He touches Chanyeol’s forearm, his fingers covering his one and only tattoo of a cross. It’s simplistic, but on a night similar to this one, Chanyeol told Baekhyun that the cross represented how he rode on the line of the pious and the not. Depending on how he looked at it, and other looked at him, he could be a savior or a demon. His fingers rub over one of his scratches, now red and swollen.

“What’s wrong?” Baekhyun’s eyes search Chanyeol’s but he’s unavailable.

“Don’t worry about it,” Chanyeol takes another drag of his cigarette, careful not to exhale in Baekhyun’s face.

“Are you okay?” Baekhyun swallows the jealousy that rises with the following statement, “Is your family okay?”

“No one knows where we are. My husband is out of the country on business.” Chanyeol stares out the window and watches how the orbs of frozen gas fall from the sky only to accumulate on the ground. He’s envious of how carefree it is.

“…Did you mean it?” Baekhyun looks off into the darkness of the hotel room. The light from the glass patio door catches on the bags of ‘gifts’ Chanyeol purchased for him on the coffee table.

“Mean what?” Chanyeol tries his best not to shake from the cold.

“What you said earlier.” Baekhyun’s voice is small. He knows this isn’t the best time to have this type of conversation.

“I’ll buy you whatever you want.” Chanyeol doesn’t miss a beat and he bends to pick up his phone. It’s 2:12 in the morning.

“I don’t want your gifts, Chanyeol.” He pulls the sheet tighter around his body. He hides his face in the material.

Chanyeol doesn’t fight him and instead finishes his cigarette, throwing the butt into the snow on the patio. He pulls another from the box and lights it without hesitation.

“Am I your whore?” Baekhyun’s voice is flat and he avoids Chanyeol’s eyes. The fabric of the sheets muffles his words.

“Never.”

“Do you call me to fuck whenever you’re stressed then buy me things as an apology, for using me?”

“Baek—” Chanyeol turns from the window.

“—I know you’re going through some deep shit because that’s why I’m here, naked. But what are we doing, Chanyeol?”

“It’s not—”

“—You know why I never take your offer to pay for my schooling? Because I’ll feel like a whore. More than I already do. I’ll be your desperate college boy sugar baby. And worse off, I’ll feel like I have to fuck you.” Baekhyun’s lips collapse into a thin line. He looks out the glass door and admires the view. His murmurs into the fabric of the sheets, “I delude myself when I’m with you. I pretend that we’re together. You’re my boyfriend that came from a rich family.”

“You’re not—”

“—When we have sex, I pretend I’m your husband. I fantasize you’re just away on business and not some mob boss that kills people for a living who happened to stumble upon me, requesting a lap dance." Baekhyun hides his face when he feels his eyes sting with tears.

Chanyeol throws his unfinished cigarette into the snow and closes the patio door. He pulls Baekhyun into an embrace.

Baekhyun rasps, voice thick with tears, “I think I love you, Chanyeol. I-I worry about you and-and I get scared whenever you don’t call. When your goons came to get me and told me you wanted to see me, I was so fucking relieved. I was excited. I hate it.”

Chanyeol is rendered speechless. Only the sounds of Baekhyun's sniffle occupy the room. He breaks away from Chanyeol’s embrace and wipes his eyes with the opposite side of the sheet. His face is red and eyes are swollen, similar to how he looks whenever he comes back from a shower.

“I don’t know if we should continue like this.” Baekhyun avoids eye-contact with Chanyeol. “I-I got too emotionally involved.” A fresh wave of tears springs forth from his words which he fruitlessly dries with the damp sheet. He hiccups as the air stales between them.

“Baekhyun, it’s not like that.”

Baekhyun perks up at Chanyeol’s words. His tears continue to fall.

Chanyeol opens his mouth to say something but his phone rings. He hesitates for a second, looking between the phone and Baekhyun. He answers the call.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

AYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY If I was you guys I’ll be PISSED (but I really REALLY love this AU? Like A LOT A LOT (because it’s painful). I’ll update this again (hopefully it won’t take me a year like it did with That Young Love, Immaculate—which its sequel STILL has gone without an update in two months I’m falling apart.

I’m really awful at endings but I didn’t want to make it sad like We’re Going Down Down, Baby is (which I reread and now I can totally see how it’s sad I’m that detached) but I didn’t want Baekhyun to have this break down where he’s all “wow, I love you like a lot Chanyeol, but I hate you because I can’t be normal!” and Chanyeol is like “Yo, um, yeah—you got this all wrong and I actually care for you a lot, let’s get married and adopt babies” because I feel that’ll be cheap (like the ending is cheap) but I REALLY wanted Baekhyun to have this breakdown I centered the entire plot around the breakdown I read the prompt and I was like YEAH! But bbh was supposed to be a daddy dom who topped pcy but idk how big daddy mob boss pcy would work with that so I’ll have to do that next time but high key, I hate how submissive Baekhyun came off here? Like, I didn’t want him to be like “yeah Chanyeol, whatever you say” because NO, but at the same time, he loves him a lot and as he said he’s playing himself (aren’t we all) so anyway,

 

Let's be friends! Send me more ideas (if you have them) here! (My blog says I'm not taking submissions but if you have one that you REALLy want to see, send it anyway! I'll try to get to it soon!)

 

See you soon! (*•̀ᴗ•́*) و ̑̑