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Hello, Mr. Officer

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“A man should always smoke away his worries.” Baekhyun puts his hand on his hips and strikes a pose, trying his best to look philosophical.

Jongdae barks out a laugh at his antics. “That’s almost stupider than the time you said a man should always put his left shoe on first.”

They’re in the center garden of the SM building, trying to catch a few seconds of sanity before throwing themselves back into the same vocal runs they’ve been working on for the past week.

“Hey, it’s true!” Baekhyun exclaims, breaking his pose. “There is a very strict set of rules on how to be a Man.”

Jongdae laughs even harder, clapping his hands together in amusement. “No wonder you’re not a man yet. You’re shit at following rules.”

“Excuse you. I’m closer than you are.” Baekhyun grumbles.

“Why do you smoke anyways? I mean, really?” Jongdae asks, suddenly curious. “You’re a vocalist. You should take more care.” He would never dream of putting his vocal chords in danger like that.

Baekhyun stares across the atrium, the tinted glass reflecting the dull winter sky. “I don’t know, it grounds me. Reminds me of home.” He ashes and watches a line of ants march past his foot. He thinks of summers spent in the mountains of Gangwon-do Yanggu at his grandma's place. Days spent wreaking havoc with the neighborhood boys and nights spent curled up on the bed between his grandparents. He’d poke his fingers through the cigarette burns in the sheets while his grandma told him stories from her childhood.

"It’s comforting," he says with a shrug and another deep inhale.

“Actually, I’ve tried quitting before. It’s hard though.” His first attempt had lasted all of twelve hours when he’d ruined it by getting drunk and bumming a cig off of some chick at a party. He’d made it four days in his second attempt. He might have made it even longer if he hadn’t bombed an important quiz.

“Oh!” Jongdae exclaims, face lighting up with excitement. “You should ask Yixing! He helped Luhan quit while we were in China!”

“Doesn’t Yixing smoke though?” Baekhyun’s face scrunches up in confusion. “How the fuck is a smoker going to help me quit.”

“Minor detail.” Jongdae whines, waving his hand in a shooing motion. “All I know is he did it for Luhan so he could probably do it for you.”

Baekhyun flicks his cigarette to the ground and crushes it with the ball of his foot. “Whatever, let’s go back inside.”



Baekhyun counts the tiles as he walks towards the restroom, a skip in his step. He’s so close to nailing his part, he can probably get it down by tonight. He rounds a corner and almost smacks directly into Luhan.

“Oh!” Baekhyun exclaims, clutching his chest.

“Hey.” Luhan nods, making to move past him. Baekhyun grabs his arm before that can happen.

“Wait! Jongdae said Yixing helped you quit smoking? How did that work?” Baekhyun drops Luhan's arm and fiddles with the sting on his sweatpants anticipating his response.

“I can't say. You’ll have to ask Yixing.” Luhan’s stammers, strangely cryptic. An uncharacteristic blush paints his face and he rubs his hand on the back of his neck. “Just trust me, Byun. It works.” Luhan steps around Baekhyun and continues down the hall. “See you later!” He calls over his shoulder.

Baekhyun shakes his head. That was weird. Guess he’ll just have to ask Yixing himself.


Baekhyun finally gets home around one in the morning. He opens the front door to find Yixing in the entryway putting on his coat.

"Where are you going?" He asks, rubbing his nose to get some warmth back into it. He shuts the door but doesn't move away from it.

"Tao ate my snacks so I'm going to get more." Yixing shrugs. "I forgot to hide them."

Baekhyun can't believe his luck. This is his chance. "I'll come too." He says, turning right back around and pulling the door back open.

The streets are deserted and they huddle into their coats making small talk along the way. The stench of smog is particularly strong and Baekhyun can’t help but wrinkle his nose.

The convenience store is just as dead as the streets and the man behind the counter looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. He doesn’t even speak to them as he rings them up, just mechanically scans and bags. Baekhyun insists on buying Yixing’s snacks and the other man eyes him warily as they exit the store.

Yixing turns to him as soon as they hit the sidewalk. “Alright, what do you want Baekhyun? I’m already helping you with our newest choreo.”

“I’m offended that you’d automatically think that.” Baekhyun drops his mouth and widens his eyes. Yixing narrows his and tilts his head, giving Baekhyun a pointed look.

“If you must know, I heard you can help me quit smoking.” Baekhyun huffs indignantly. He still feels like he’s barking up the wrong tree.

“And who told you that?” Yixing asks suspiciously. He starts spinning the bag in his hand, the plastic wrapping around his knuckles.

“Jongdae and Luhan. They wouldn’t tell how, just that you did.” He knew it, they were pulling his leg. How could Yixing, a known chain smoker, help someone else quit?

Yixing fidgets and stares at him for a long moment. “Hm, well I can do that, but my methods are, uh, a bit unique.”

Baekhyun sighs in relief, swinging his bag of snacks back and forth with a grin. “I’m willing to try anything, I guess.”

“We can discuss it more over these snacks when we get back to the house.” Yixing decides, picking up his pace.


The old heater rattling in the corner is grating on his nerves and the smell of peanut butter is starting to make Baekhyun feel nauseated. It’s been three days since his talk with Yixing. Three days since he’s had a cigarette and he feels like crawling out of his own skin.


“Do you really have to eat peanut butter straight from the jar?” He finally snaps at Jongin. “We have other food in the house.”

Jongin pauses, spoon halfway to his mouth. “No one told you to sit on the couch with me. You can go in the other room.”

“Right,” Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “I’ll just hole myself up in my room all day because you won’t fucking stop until you’ve eaten every fucking jar in the city.”

Jongin glares and sets the jar down. “Fuck off, Baekhyun. What’s your problem?”

“Fuck off, Baekhyun. What’s your problem?” Baekhyun shrills back, face twisted up into something ugly.

“Jesus Christ.” Jongin mumbles, picking his jar back up. “You need to get laid or something. Lighten up.”

“I just did. Maybe if your sister weren't such a bad fuck I’d-” Jongin lunges across the couch with a snarl. His fist connects with Baekhyun’s stomach and a spoonful of peanut butter smacks him in the face. The tingling in Baekhyun’s fingers fade as they curl into Jongin’s hair and yank viciously.

“Keep it down,” Kyungsoo gripes as he passes by on his way to the kitchen.

Jongin’s fingers dig into the soft pudge of Baekhyun’s stomach and Baekhyun yelps before jerking back. They fall off the couch still tangled together. Luckily, it isn’t a long fall so Baekhyun barely flinches as his back hits the carpet.

“Say that again, bastard.” Jongin grunts when Baekhyun’s knee comes up between them, trying to get the advantage, and catches him in his thigh.

Kyungsoo pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “Kris, you might want to get this.” He shouts into the other room as he opens the fridge.

In the end it takes Kris and Minseok to get them separated. By the time they do, Baekhyun’s eyes are rimmed red in frustration.

A scolding from Minseok and an insincere apology to Jongin later and Baekhyun is even more on edge than he was before. He has peanut butter smeared all over himself and his head is pounding. He still feels like he could go for another fight.

He decides to escape to the roof.

The stairwell leading up to the access door is chilly and he already knows it's going to be freezing outside. Maybe the cold will clear his mind. He slams the door open with a bang and the wind cuts through his thin hoodie. Goosebumps travel across his body, but he’s so wound up he can’t even feel them.

He sees Chanyeol huddled in a corner of the roof terrace smoking a cigarette. Great, just what he needs. Baekhyun throws himself down next to him, back hitting the wall hard enough to knock the air out of his chest.

“Give me a cigarette.” He wheezes, rubbing the center of his chest.

Chanyeol’s elbow digs into his side. “No, you’re quitting.”

“Give me a fucking cigarette.” Baekhyun demands.

Chanyeol flicks his forehead and Baekhyun swats at his finger. “You have peanut butter in your hair.”

“If you don’t give me a cigarette, I’ll ruin everything you love.” Baekhyun pinches Chanyeol’s side hard and grabs his wrist. Chanyeol winces and snorts. It’s a threat he’s heard many times before.

“I’ll tell Yixing!” Chanyeol shouts, trying to squirm out of Baekhyun’s grasp without burning either of them. Baekhyun slowly inches the cigarette towards his mouth.

They struggle for a while until he finally gets Chanyeol’s arm where he wants it and he takes a long drag, triumph running through his veins. Chanyeol goes limp in defeat and lets Baekhyun repeatedly puff on his cigarette.

“I swear to god, Chanyeol. Don’t you dare tell Yixing. I will spit in your mojitos if you do.”

“That’s low!” Chanyeol gasps in mock horror. “Even coming from you.”

“Yeah, well, they’re bitch drinks anyway. Real men drink-” Someone clears their throat interrupting Baekhyun’s sentence and they both look up in surprise. Yixing is standing in the doorway and his face is stony. Baekhyun's hands tremble even as he releases the smoke filling his lungs. He’s screwed.



“Go clean yourself out while I carve up your root.”

In the contract Yixing had laid out the other night, he had listed possible consequences for any smoking transgressions Baekhyun might commit. At the top of the list had been something called figging. When he’d asked him what that even meant, Yixing had explained that it was some sort of Victorian punishment involving a ginger root and spanking. He’d explained that it was probably one of the most effective punishments. Personally, Baekhyun thought it sounded a hell of a lot easier than eating only beets for a week.

Now he’s sitting naked on Yixing’s toilet and having second thoughts. He’s never had an enema before and the feeling is strange. He fidgets in discomfort and his fists clench as he holds it in for the required amount of time. He feels incredibly full and he’s pretty sure he’s going to die of embarrassment when he has to release it. The nakedness doesn’t bother him, but knowing Yixing is just on the other side of the door and will probably hear him as he voids his bowels almost makes him want to call the whole thing off. This is a punishment all by itself. The water leaves him in a slow trickle and then a rush and he buries his face in his hands, ears burning.

He supposes it doesn’t matter though, Yixing is about to see everything anyway. He finishes up and rinses off before exiting the bathroom.

The room has taken on an ominous cast. Yixing is standing there with a peeled piece of ginger shaped vaguely like a curved finger. The ottoman that Yixing tells him to lean across suddenly looks like an executioner's chopping block. Baekhyun squares his jaw and throws himself down across it. He asked for this after all.

Baekhyun hears him spit on the root a few times and he turns his head to watch. The root gleams, nice and wet.

“Gross. You aren’t going to use lube?”

“If I use lube, it won’t do its job.” Yixing explains as he rubs his saliva along the ginger with quick passes of his hand and a flick of his wrist. “Okay, spread your legs and reach back to open your cheeks.”

Baekhyun complies even as he buries his face into the smooth leather surface beneath him. This is embarrassing. It’s made even worse because he’s always found Yixing hot. From the first day he’d seen him, dripping with sweat and rolling his body with ease in one of the practice rooms.

Yixing rubs the carved up root along his hole a couple times before starting the push in. Baekhyun's hole dents in while opening up around the ginger and Yixing’s eyes fall heavy. The going is slow without lube, but Yixing is patient. The rim catches on the small groove he carved into it and he pauses a moment to make sure it’s going to stay in place. Once he’s certain it isn’t going to slip inside, he gives Baekhyun’s ass a light slap. “Get up.”

Baekhyun complies, but he looks put out. The root feels awkward and all it’s doing is warming up his asshole. It’s a bit anticlimactic. “I could have just bought warming lube you know. Coulda saved you time and effort.”

Yixing plops down onto the ottoman Baekhyun just vacated. “Trust me, it’ll do the trick. Now lay over my lap.”

Baekhyun snorts, nervousness completely dissipated now that the root is in and positions himself across Yixing’s lap. This is going to be a piece of cake. Yixing clucks at him and wastes no time bringing his hand down with several dull smacks. Baekhyun yelps and tenses his ass out of reflex and the warming sensation of the ginger gets a little stronger.

“Smoking is expensive and it can kill you.” He follows each word with another strike against Baekhyun’s cheeks. Baekhyun pulls his bottom lip between his teeth to keep from crying out like a bitch.

“Shit.” He grunts as Yixing doesn’t let up and the warm feeling from the ginger root escalates into a weird tingling.

“I can’t believe you smoked again. You’re better than that, Baekhyun.”

Yixing pauses a moment and soothes his hand over Baekhyun’s reddened ass cheeks. They feel scorched underneath his palm. “Now why don’t you thank me for helping you out?”

Baekhyun grits his teeth and curses under his breath. Somehow his dick is starting to get hard.

“I took time out of my busy schedule to help you out and you aren’t even going to respond?” Baekhyun just glares at him. He may have asked for this, but he still has his pride.

Yixing gives him two more smacks in quick succession. His hips jerk suddenly and his back bows as the full effects of the ginger permeate his rim. The tingling has intensified and it feels like a million angry ants trotting around where the ginger touches his insides. Yixing presses a hand against the small of his back making sure he doesn’t buck right off. He takes a moment to admire how pretty and pink Baekhyun’s cheeks are now.

“Are you okay?” He asks once Baekhyun’s stopped trying to wriggle his way off of his lap.

“Yeah.” Baekhyun pants. Sweat beads along his hairline. “I can take it still.”

Yixing nods more to himself than Baekhyun and continues. “Good boys say thank you when someone helps them out. Are you a good boy or an animal?”

Baekhyun’s dick gives a hard twitch at the words and he pops a full-fledged boner. There’s a deep flush splashing across his face and slowly spreading down his shoulders. He really hopes Yixing won’t comment on the hardness of his dick.

“You don’t have words?” Yixing sighs and resumes his spanking. “Then you can squeal like an animal.”

Baekhyun’s world narrows down to pure sensation. He doesn’t know how many times Yixing has spanked him. He can’t help but cry out with each strike as they make the fire of the ginger flare up even hotter and his dick leak embarrassingly all over Yixing’s jeans. Tears tumble hotly against his cheeks and he really regrets slipping up and smoking that cigarette in a moment of weakness.

Yixing stills his hand and pets along Baekhyun’s flank. “Now have we learned our lesson, Baekhyun?”

“Yes, burns. I’m sorry, please.” Baekhyun gasps, fingers digging into Yixing’s thigh hard enough to hurt the tips of them. His dick is still hard and his entire body feels tense, just on the edge of breaking.

“Are you going to smoke again?”

Baekhyun shakes his head frantically, little droplets of tears and sweat flying off of his face from the force of it. “No, I won’t. I promise, just please.”

“Good boy.” Yixing rubs a palm over Baekhyun’s ass soothingly as he slowly works the ginger free. It comes out with an audible snick and Baekhyun’s hole clenches frantically on nothing, working in overdrive to soothe itself.

“Do you want me to cool the burn?” Yixing asks. “I’ll have to stick my fingers in.”

Baekhyun groans, hyperaware of how hard his dick is. His “Yes.” gets caught in his throat and he has to repeat himself.

Yixing leans over his body and grabs the bottle of lube he’d set on the floor next to the ottoman before they began. He pops the lid and squeezes a little too hard. It flows out from between his fingers and drips onto Baekhyun’s back. Baekhyun’s entire body twitches at the sudden coldness and Yixing chuckles.

He takes what’s left in his hand and rubs it between Baekhyun’s cheeks and around the outside of his hole. The entrance is red and puffy from all the irritation. The finger he inserts still goes in with ease and Baekhyun hisses at the initial contact. Yixing starts pumping his finger in and out before adding a second one. Baekhyun can’t help the deep moan that wells up as the lube begins dulling the burn. He feels something hard poking into his stomach and he realizes Yixing is hard as well.

Yixing pulls his fingers out to scoop some of the lube off Baekhyun’s back before he plunges them back in. He pumps his fingers even faster and Baekhyun goes rigid as he will himself not to cum even as his dick scratches along the rough denim of Yixing’s pants.

“Have to make sure to rub it all out.” Yixing explains as Baekhyun’s moans get louder and more desperate.

His fingers are thrusting almost viciously and Baekhyun pushes into them frantically. All he can feel is relief. Yixing’s fingers reach as far as they can go and the last of the burn turns dull. A warm wettness spreads against his stomach and he cums abruptly when he realizes Yixing must have cum in his pants.

Yixing pulls his fingers free and rubs his head with his clean hand.

“You did well.” Baekhyun hears before he floats off to sleep, completely exhausted.

Yixing cleans him up and redresses him before tucking him into his bed and going to sleep on the couch.



The next morning, Yixing is running late for a meeting with their choreographer. He has some moves he thinks would work well in their new song and the woman had asked him to come by and show her. He busts out the front door, hopping on one foot to get his on shoe when he pulls up short.

Baekhyun is standing on the porch with a smirk on his face and a cigarette dangling from his mouth. He makes eye contact with Yixing as he lights the cancer stick. “So,“ he begins, a smirk on his face, “what’s my punishment going to be this time?”