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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 ̑̑

Chapter Text

Baekhyun’s pen hovers over a heavily scribbled notebook page. His cellphone rests at the junction of his shoulder and ear. He stares hard at the screen of his new laptop. The webpage is open to his copy of PDF lecture notes his professor was kind enough to upload for her students. The overhead light that illuminates the one bedroom apartment flickers.

“Do you understand it?” His free hand scrolls through the next few slides before returning to the original slide of a chemical reaction he doesn’t understand.

“Not really.” His friend Kyungsoo sighs on the other line.

Baekhyun’s eyes dart to the time at the corner of his computer screen—it’s almost one in the morning.

“The test isn’t until next week. We can visit her office hours. If you’re busy again then I’ll just go.”

Baekhyun pushes his lips into a thin line. Busy sleeping so I can work.

“Yeah,” Baekhyun comments uncommittedly, “I just want to do well.”

“We all want to do well. University sucks.”

“Yeah.” He closes his notebook and drops his pen on the table. He needs to do well. The faster he can graduate, the sooner he can quit working at the club and hopefully get a job that better suits his career goals.

“Baekhyun.”

The petite man scoots from his small coffee table, which also functions as a make-shift desk, to his mattress. He crawls under his comforter and lies flat on his back with his phone to his ear. “Hm?”

“Are you alright?” Baekhyun can hear the worry in his friend’s tone. He curses the man’s perception.

“I’m tired.”

“We’re all tired, Baekhyun. That’s what university is about. And it’ s like one in the morning.” There’s a pause before Kyungsoo continues, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah—” Baekhyun stares at the cracks and the water damage to his ceiling. The former whiteness of the plastered ceiling is now colored with a horrid yellowish hue.  It’s nothing like the hotel rooms Chanyeol rents for their dates.

It’s a wonder Chanyeol likes him, enough even if he’s just a quick fuck. He’s the watermark that blemishes the ceiling and the cracks that plague Chanyeol’s crisp wallpaper clad walls.

“How are you and your boyfriend doing?”

Baekhyun sucks the skin of his cheek involuntarily, creating a ‘tsk’ sound.

So, it is about him.”

“We’re okay.” The lie passes through Baekhyun’s mouth with ease.

They’re as okay as they could be with Baekhyun confessing his love for the taller man who didn’t say he loved him back. This said man also left earlier that morning after another frenzied fuck session, which Baekhyun confessed his love for him, again. And, again, Chanyeol didn’t say he loved him back—or bought up leaving his husband. He woke up alone with nothing but his untouched ‘gifts’ on the coffee table and the discarded condoms in the trash to show for their tryst. A month has passed since that night.

He did get a new laptop he desperately needed.

“You don’t sound okay.”

Baekhyun closes his eyes at Kyungsoo’s pestering. The man has good intentions but he doesn’t want to be reminded of how much of a failure he is at being a sugar baby to a mob boss. A boss that could have other unfortunate souls like him on the side.

“I don’t want to talk about this.” Baekhyun couldn’t recognize his own voice. The mirth he could typically muster whenever he spoke to his university friends is absent. He sounds as cold and bitter as he feels.

“Well, you guys always snap back and from what I heard, he sounds like a good guy. I’m sure it’ll pass and you’ll always have us—if you ever need anything.” Kyungsoo’s smile is present in his voice.

Baekhyun nods until he realizes Kyungsoo can’t see the non-verbal movement and gives a somber, “Thank you.”

 

 

 


 

 

 

Baekhyun opens his eyes when his phone goes off for the third or so time. His apartment is pitch dark except for the highlighted screen of his cell phone that has RESTRICTED CALL flashing upon the glass. His heart falls to the base of his stomach. It could be Chanyeol. Maybe he’s in trouble, or maybe he’s not.

A sole finger swipes against the screen to answer the call. He pulls the phone to his ear.

“B-Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun swallows the spit that collected in his mouth and closes his eyes. He sits on his legs with proper posture. He should just end their relationship before he becomes more emotionally invested. Chanyeol is a married man who spouse doesn’t deserve to be treated this way. He doesn’t deserve to be treated this way.

“Yeah?” His voice rattles more than what he would like to admit.

“Are you free?”

“W-why do you ask?” Baekhyun’s heart crashes in his chest. He squeezes his legs involuntarily.

“I want to see you.”

Heat pools in his groin at Chanyeol’s words. He’s too easy.

“I have class tomorrow.” Baekhyun grips his phone and holds his breath. Chanyeol isn’t the type of guy to get upset over being rejected but he hasn’t seen him in a month. What if he visits one of his other lovers instead? Was he ever a rebound?

“…I still want to see you.” Chanyeol’s voice is deeper than what Baekhyun could remember.

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

Baekhyun chews on the skin of his bottom lip. His legs, which are crossed, bounce insistently. He refreshes his phone, only to be met with 2:12 AM glaring back at him. He stares at his front door that is directly across from his position on his mattress.

He never said it back.

Should he just end the relationship? Is Chanyeol visiting him to break up with him instead? Did his husband find out about him? Questions continue to whirl around in Baekhyun’s head. His overhead light flickers more violently than before. It buzzes momentarily before it stabilizes.

He’s just a poor farm boy with a bucket full of dreams and no means to achieve them. A poor boy who had to resort to stripping to pay off the loan sharks that started to harass his parents and the fees his scholarships couldn’t cover. Why would a glamorous, albeit dangerous, man like Chanyeol want someone like him besides for a quick fuck? It’s only a matter of time before the steel needle stabs him in the back during their rendezvous in the haystack.

Baekhyun jumps from his mattress when he hears a light knock at the door. He carefully makes his way around the coffee table. He stumbles over his tennis shoes on the way and rights himself with the door handle. He takes a deep breath and unlocks the deadbolt before swinging it open.

There stands Chanyeol in a dark navy suit. He holds his leather trench coat over his elbow. At the sound of the door opening, Chanyeol meets Baekhyun’s wide eyes. His hair is now black. It’s contrasted wonderfully with the snow that lingers on the street and starts to cascade from the sky.

“Chanyeol.” Baekhyun’s cheeks warm at the sight.

Chanyeol envelopes Baekhyun in a bone-crushing hug, nearly knocking the smaller man off his feet.

Baekhyun is severely underdressed in his plaid pajama pants and raggedy t-shirt in comparison to Chanyeol’s suit that probably cost more than his tuition, but he never felt more at home than in Chanyeol’s arms. He shouldn’t feel this way but he can’t help how his heart blooms in Chanyeol’s presence. It’s an indescribable feeling. He hugs Chanyeol just as tight.

“I missed you, Baekhyunnie.” Chanyeol’s voice is muffled by Baekhyun’s neck.

Baekhyun nods and pushes himself further into Chanyeol’s body. He’ll delude himself, if only for a little while.

 

 

 


 

 

 

“Chanyeol, why do you spend time with me?” Baekhyun watches as his wall clock ticks with each passing second. It’s almost three in the morning.

Chanyeol pauses for a moment before continuing to kiss Baekhyun’s naked shoulders. He spoons Baekhyun from behind, his arms are wrapped around his waist. Their orgasms are still fresh in their limbs.

“Because I like you.” Chanyeol’s voice is gruff and tickles Baekhyun’s skin.

“Who do you like more?” These are burning questions that have plagued Baekhyun all month. He didn’t want their reunion to turn out this way but when Chanyeol had kissed him by the door with his entire being, without bothering to ask how he was, he had to know.

“Between who?” Confusion forms on Chanyeol’s face.

“All your lovers.” Baekhyun swallows hard. He should have ignored Chanyeol’s call. He should have put his phone on silent.

“You. It’s only you.” Chanyeol resumes his ministrations and plants kisses on the back of Baekhyun’s neck and shoulders. His thick lips mush against the smooth skin.

The touch reignites the heat in his groin but Baekhyun isn’t sure if Chanyeol’s response was the truth or a cheap ploy to shut him up. His breath becomes airy as Chanyeol’s hand snakes to tug at his soft cock, “I’m the only one?”

Chanyeol hums in response as he strokes Baekhyun’s dick. Baekhyun’s eyes lull at the sensation.

“Where were you?”

“Work.” Chanyeol jerks Baekhyun with purpose, enough to get him to full hardness but not enough for him to get off.

“Does your husband know you’re here?” Gasps escape Baekhyun’s throat as he arches into Chanyeol’s touch. The question tumbles from Baekhyun’s mouth without remorse.

Chanyeol pauses. The room is quiet, only their breathing and their hearts pounding in their ears to fill the silence. The overhead light flickers again and stabilizes after a few seconds. His grip on Baekhyun’s cock is constant. He squeezes the base, pulling a hiss from the petite man.

“Why are you being like this, Baekhyun?” Chanyeol’s tone is even and calculated.

“Because I want to know.” Baekhyun breathes heavily through his nose.

“What?”

“Who am I to you?”

“You’re Baekhyun to me.”

A frown erupts on Baekhyun’s face. He’s just Baekhyun. He stares at the corner of his shared wall. He’s just Baekhyun. “So…I am just your whore, huh?” Emotion rises in Baekhyun’s chest. He doesn’t fight it.

“No, you’re not.” Chanyeol’s voice is stern. He doesn’t hesitate.

“Then why do you treat me like one?” Baekhyun told himself he wasn’t going to cry in front of Chanyeol again. But the first tear falls with purpose, it paves the way for those that follow. They soak into his pillow. He has the urge to wipe his face but he doesn’t want to give Chanyeol any more satisfaction of the type of hold he has over him. “Do you love me?”

Chanyeol sits up abruptly, breaking their embrace, and hides his face in his hands. Baekhyun chokes on a sob. He misses the warmth.

“Yes.” Chanyeol’s reply is muffled. He rubs his face, “I do, a lot.”

Baekhyun sits up and faces Chanyeol’s back in disbelief. Under the heavy light, he can see the wounds that litter his back. They’re probably bullet wounds. The calloused skin is probably rough to the touch. “What did you just say?” Tears continue to rest on his cheeks and slide down his face.

Chanyeol is silent.

“Chanyeol…”

“I’m not supposed to have these feelings, Baekhyun.” He hides his head in between his knees in defeat. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Because of your husband?”

“Because I can’t be weak.”

The room falls silent again. A part of Baekhyun wishes he could rejoice over Chanyeol’s feelings. But another, more rational side of him, understands that they trapped themselves in a situation that shouldn’t have happened. They caught feelings, perhaps feelings stronger than what they could possibly comprehend.

“Why did you marry your husband then?” Baekhyun tries his best to hold his growing spite at the back of his throat. Is Chanyeol in love with his husband? Would does he love more? He understands he’s being selfish at the moment. To ask a married man, a man who constantly faces danger, to give him a commitment is childish.

“I thought he was what I needed. He understood the lifestyle.”

“What about me, then?” Baekhyun bites the skin from his lower lip. Tears continue to streak down his cheeks.

“Baekhyun.” Chanyeol sighs tiredly. “Stop.”

“You can’t—”

“Please. Just stop.”

Baekhyun’s face softens at Chanyeol’s plea.

“This is the only time I have away from everything, and I decide to spend this time with you. And you just—” Chanyeol’s voice cracks, “I can’t give you what you want.”

“Should we break up?” Baekhyun states after a while, pulling at his fingers.

It’s a question that weighs heavily on his mind. It’s the easiest solution and it’ll be for the best, but could he do it? Can he stay away from Chanyeol?

“…I don’t want to.” Chanyeol finally raises his head and turns towards Baekhyun. His face is red and his eyes shine with unshed tears. “But, I’ll understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore. I can’t treat you the way a lover should. Not now.”

Baekhyun frowns at the tone of Chanyeol’s voice. It’s soft. His eyes also shine with something he’s only seen a handful of times.

He’s being vulnerable in front of him.

“I mean—I’m not any better. I live a double life. I’ve…also done things I’m not proud of just so I could stay afloat. I’m not good enough to work three jobs like those with worse economic situations have done before me. I might not kill people for a living, but” Baekhyun meets Chanyeol’s eyes, “I think we were both forced into becoming someone we never wanted to be.”

“There’s a difference between taking your clothes off for money and killing and stealing for a living, Baekhyun.”

Chanyeol turns from Baekhyun, refusing to show his face. He might not have said it but Baekhyun could hear Chanyeol’s lingering words that slept in his mouth.

I’m a monster.

“Chanyeol…” Baekhyun crawls to Chanyeol and wraps his arms around his back. The bullet wound turned scars feel as coarse as they look.

“What do you want, Baekhyun?” Chanyeol doesn’t flinch from the embrace.

“I want you,” Baekhyun whispers into the skin of Chanyeol’s back.

“I killed someone today.” Chanyeol’s tone is even and lacks emotion. It rolled off his tongue as if he was reciting the weather.

“Okay.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make an honest man out of you, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun closes his eyes as he feels Chanyeol’s voice rumble in his chest. His stomach drops at his words.

A silence falls between them.

“I’m sorry, Baekhyun.” Chanyeol states after a while.

“I’m sorry too.” One of Baekhyun’s hands snakes in between Chanyeol’s legs and to his flaccid cock. He doesn’t miss how Chanyeol freezes at the touch. He strokes him with a firm grip.

“Baek—”

“Fuck me like it was our last time.” Baekhyun mutters into Chanyeol’s back, “Since that’s all you give me.”

Let me delude myself, just for a little while longer.

 

 

 


 

 

 

Baekhyun sits alone in the coffee shop a couple of blocks from his university. Beside from the barista, only he and another who sat on the other side of the shop are present. He sips the bitter liquid through a straw and flips a page in his textbook. His test is in a few days and he’s only just started to study properly.

He hasn’t heard from Chanyeol since that night.

It’s not unusual since Chanyeol is a busy man but after the night they shared, he couldn’t help but worry.

He made love to him for the first time. They always did it hard. The pleasure sharp and the orgasm intense. He always felt as if he was drowning in his euphoria, his pleas for air sounding like Chanyeol’s name. He couldn’t appreciate it before it ebbed from his veins, leaving him in a numb yet comfortable state.  Chanyeol fucked him with an aggression from the emotions he probably suppressed. Baekhyun knew the anger was never directed at him.

Perhaps, Chanyeol felt that way about himself and it came out whenever they were intimate.  

This time, they took it slow. The pleasure built with patience and the waves of ecstasy eventually overcame him like low tide. He could feel it in every limb of his body. His moans were light and soft. The orgasm left him warm and comfortable. Chanyeol didn’t try to hide his face as he came.

Baekhyun bites his straw and he flips to the next page of his textbook.

He has work tonight.

Excitement sits in his belly at the idea of Kris and Sehun accosting him before he made it on stage, preferably after. He hates himself for it.

A young man enters the shop too close to closing time. The bell above the door alerts the few inhabitants of his arrival. The barista rolls her eyes and the man who sat on the side of the shop is seemingly unbothered. He crosses by Baekhyun’s table and he looks too young to be wandering the streets at this hour. His attire of an all-black suit also sticks out in the humble coffee shop.

The mystery man retreats to Baekhyun’s table after he checked out the shop, probably looking for someone, “Are you Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun smiles to himself, knowing what this was all about.

He’s only hurting himself but he could continue to delude himself, if only for a little while.

 

 

 


 

 

 

It was only supposed to be a one-time thing. Chanyeol was supposed to be another creepy old businessman who explored his sexuality outside of his marriage. He wasn’t supposed to be young and handsome. His gaze that lingered on his thick thighs and ample hips shouldn’t have been consensual. When Chanyeol rubbed the curve of hips, tracing the slight dip of his waist, Baekhyun shouldn’t have shivered with want.

He shouldn’t have gotten turned on.

When Baekhyun sat on Chanyeol’s lap, he shouldn’t have chased that gleam in his eyes.

They should never have kissed.

Baekhyun’s arms should never have wrapped around Chanyeol’s neck, trapping him there. The dance of their tongues shouldn’t have happened. He should never have pulled out the box of condoms the manager had placed under the couch in case one of them decided to perform a trick.

The lap dance should have been just a lap dance.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This took me forever to write (for some reason). First, I was going to give this a happier ending but then it didn’t feel right (if this makes any sense) so I had to rewrite the final scene. I think I should write at least another chapter. I really pushed this fic to characterize Chanyeol as a character so the plot doesn’t really exist besides to further show how fucked up their relationship is (which is difficult because I doubt a mob boss would be the type to go on and on about his feelings to anyone in general—especially to his mister.—also, while I can see Chanyeol’s characterization—I didn’t outright state it like with Baekhyun’s—I hope it came through Chanyeol is as emotionally dependent if not more than Baekhyun. As stated in the first chapter he can relate to someone (emotionally) for the first time so he’s attracted while Baekhyun is attracted to him for similarly reasons.) I really don’t know where this should go. I’m clearly too invested with the relationships instead of their given occupations Like, I was playing with flashbacks were it showed how they got were they are or Chanyeol’s husband actually finding out and how that would go (badly naturally) or perhaps something bad happening to Chanyeol but idk so somehow this happened???? (Also, I don’t know if this is strong enough but Chanyeol dyed his hair back black as a sign that he’s back to mob activities besides managing his gang of goons if you get what I’m saying—he’s killing people but since this is from BBH’S pov I wasn’t sure how to express that idkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk)

Anyway

 

See you soon! (*•̀ᴗ•́*) و ̑̑

 

If this made you sad (drag me) and check out my parents AU!