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looks, proximity, power

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In hindsight, Chanyeol really should have expected Sehun’s ulterior motive the moment he’d paid for another round of shots – Sehun was tight-fisted, a modern age scrooge where money was considered. The last time he’d paid for anything, it came right before a ‘haha so I kinda need to live with you until further notice thanks I love you too’ and Chanyeol hadn’t bothered to ask. The younger annoyance also refused to pay rent until they moved to a nicer apartment.

“So,” Sehun started, the irritating spark in his eyes, “I found out some rather interesting news through a mutual contact.”

Chanyeol stared at him across the table, “If your contact is Baekhyun-”

“Hear me out,” Sehun interrupted, sliding one of the shots across to Chanyeol as a peace offering.

The bass from the nearby speaker thudded through Chanyeol’s chest as he sighed in resignation, “I thought we agreed you’d stop trying to drag me into this.”

“We can agree that I lied,” His best friend continued, toying with his own glass, “You’re broke and listen, it hurts to see you eating cheap-ass cereal with a cheap-ass spoon when we both know you could be eating cheap-ass cereal with a golden spoon.”

“I like my cheap-ass cereal, Sehun.”

“A little birdy told me you were looking to buy a studio-”

“I told you that,” Chanyeol interrupted, “Literally last night.”

And I have a solution,” Sehun resumed, “All I’m asking is that you consider it – the moment something happens you don’t like, I’ll drop it.”

Chanyeol sighed at the innocent face his best friend was attempting to pull across the table, “You’re serious about this.”

“I want to live in a better apartment and we both know you can’t afford to go half with me on something with more class.”

He snorted, “Class? You don’t even pay rent right now.”

Sehun didn’t bother to retaliate, “Junmyeon has a friend. A lawyer friend.”

“Your lawyer boyfriend has a lawyer friend,” Chanyeol repeated, “Consider me shocked.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Sehun scowled as Chanyeol rolled his eyes, “And believe me when I say that you’re my last resort. ‘Myeon asked me to mention it.”

Chanyeol threw back his shot, motioning with his other hand for Sehun to continue. He liked Junmyeon – Junmyeon brought food when he visited and chastised Sehun for being a brat (and there was also the main fact that Junmyeon made his best friend very happy). Sehun was in denial about his feelings for his sugar daddy and Chanyeol would rather not instigate something in that mess.

“Nobody is working out for this guy. It’s making us look bad,” Sehun sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, “We even tried Baek.”

“How did you conclude that I was your answer?” Chanyeol asked, his laugh slightly incredulous, “If your fussy sugar daddy turned down Byun Baekhyun, why are you even asking me?”

“Hold up, he never said ‘turned down’,” Byun Baekhyun corrected, sliding into the seat next to Sehun, “We got off, it was great – I didn’t even charge him.”

Chanyeol threw back another shot. He should’ve found new friends when he’d had the chance.

“We agreed I was talking to him,” Sehun scowled in greeting.

“I’m necessary,” Baekhyun answered, taking the remaining shot without asking, “You’re getting nowhere with our timid little Chanyeol.”

Sehun snorted, “Our?”

“Timid?” Chanyeol glared.

“Mr Kim is willing to pay more than anyone I’ve ever met,” Baekhyun continued, ignoring them both, “Which would make you the most expensive sugar baby I know. Zitao’s gonna be pissed.”

“I still don’t see where I fit into this.”

“We know you’re not inexperienced,” Baekhyun started, a grin forming on his lips.

“We also know you like to complain every time you get drunk that there’s something obviously dissatisfying each time you get laid,” Sehun finished.

The two shared a look as Chanyeol sunk back into his seat.

“You’re tall,” Sehun stated after a moment.

“Good observation.”

“Taller than him,” Baekhyun added.

“Why is that important?”

“And, y’know, the biggest fucking sub-,” Baekhyun said bluntly, wincing when Sehun kicked him beneath the table.

Chanyeol attempted nonchalance, looking between his friends’ heads instead of at them, “And how would you know that?”

After a beat of silence, Sehun said, “Your porn folder is saved to our shared online account.”

And really, he should’ve seen that coming.

“Oh,” Chanyeol croaked. The blush crawling up his neck turned his ears pink and the word dumbass flashed behind his eyelids when he blinked. Of course Sehun would snake his way into Chanyeol’s shit.

“It’s your decision,” Sehun replied, tone slightly softer than before, “Just think about it.”

Sehun reached into Baekhyun’s pocket and pulled out an expensive looking business card. Of course he had a business card.

Chanyeol stared at the black card a moment before taking it, reading the squared white font on the centre of one side, “Mr Kim. Ambiguous.”

“Think about it this way,” Baekhyun began, resting his elbows on the table and a shameless smirk on his face, “You get fucked the right way and make money doing it. Mr Kim gets de-stressed and a pretty little brunette to call his baby. Me and Sehun keep our platinum status. It’s a win-win.”

“And if he doesn’t like me?” Chanyeol asked, flipping the card over to glance at the numbers. His face felt hot.

“Then it ends there, no problem,” Sehun answered easily.

He fidgeted with the card, “So… What? Am I supposed to text him? Isn’t that a little…informal?”

“People text, Chanyeol, that’s a thing that people do.”

Chanyeol slid the card into his pocket, filing it away as a problem for sober him. He was well aware of his friends’ chosen lifestyle and though he’d be reluctant to admit it out loud, they weren’t wrong – not to be cliché but sex and money were two things Chanyeol could get behind. Or beneath. It had been a while since he’d found himself satisfied after getting laid.

Sometime during the night when Drunk Chanyeol deemed it appropriate to lack inhibition, he typed out the numbers in white font and text a single ‘hello’.

Rolling over, Chanyeol buried his head beneath his pillow and tried to put off thinking for a few moments longer. Considering how much they’d drank the night before, Chanyeol wasn’t feeling all that bad – minus his dry tongue and the overall grogginess that seeped into his mind. It could be worse; he could be throwing up, like he’d heard Baekhyun do at some ungodly hour in the morning. He reaped what he sowed, and what he sowed was betting Jongin he’d drink him under the table.

Chanyeol enjoyed the mornings he wasn’t forced to drag himself out of bed – the mornings where he could lay and allow his mind to linger in limbo and think about nothing more than how good it felt to be beneath his 300 blankets.

The vibrating of his phone brought his short no-thinking session to an end and he rolled over, running his hand along the floor until he found the offending object. Even after turning the brightness to its lowest, Chanyeol had to squint at his screen to make out the words.

[unknown number]
‘And who might this be, hm?’

Frowning, Chanyeol swiped to open the text from the unfamiliar number and upon reading his own ‘hello’, allowed his head to drop, limp, back onto the bed. So yeah, he’d done that. It wasn’t like he had anything to lose and he’d never been directly against the idea. He stared at his phone screen for a few moments longer before typing out the words that came first to his mind and tapping send.

‘i was under the impression you were expecting me’

With reluctance weighing him down, Chanyeol dragged himself out of bed and into the shower. His mind was only half aware as he cleaned himself, stray thoughts panning out his empty day. He wasn’t struggling for money – money was tight, sure, he couldn’t afford the same luxuries as Sehun and their apartment was falling apart; but it wasn’t like he depended on those luxuries. His day job as sound management at a theatre in the city was enough to sustain him when paired with the odd shifts he covered for Jongin at the club.

So maybe he was three weeks behind on rent and Sehun refused to contribute to said rent until they moved apartments.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair for the last time as he shut off the water and began to towel himself dry. The extra money would be good – he could move apartments, maybe even consider looking for cheap studios to spend his time doing work he actually wanted to do. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d thought about it, especially when he was already accustomed to the normality of it having been around Sehun and Baekhyun long enough.

Pulling on one of his lazy day sweaters, he flopped down onto his bed and unlocked his phone.

[unknown number]
‘Ah, Park Chanyeol.’

Chanyeol stared at the reply until another message caused the phone to vibrate in his hand.

‘Let’s get dinner.’

So soon? It hardly sounded like a question. Chanyeol’s heart rate had already tripled and the man hadn’t even introduced himself. He’d expected the lawyer to be less… abrupt somehow. What was he supposed to reply? ‘Sure’? ‘Sounds good’? What if he came across as too casual? Sehun had mentioned the man was fussy (or, to quote his best friend: picky as fuck), what if Chanyeol put him off before they’d even had a chance to meet? He swallowed his thoughts as he typed. And deleted his sentence. And typed again. Baekhyun had told him that be himself, that he was fitting enough – whatever that meant.

‘depends. are you taking me somewhere nice?’

After hitting send, he threw his phone onto his bed and went to grab breakfast. Lunch. A late lunch.

His day was free, meaning he and Sehun wasted their time recovering from the night before and complaining about leg space when Baekhyun lay across them to play whatever video game he’d left at theirs the last time they’d gotten together. Each time his phone buzzed, Sehun lifted an eyebrow but commented no more as Chanyeol and Mr Kim exchanged minor details – the nearest time they were both free, if Chanyeol knew where a particular restaurant was or if he needed Mr Kim to send him a car, which led onto exchanging addresses… and Chanyeol’s account number.

“The dinner is probably so he can decide whether or not you’re the person he’s looking for,” Baekhyun said later that night as he pulled on his shoes to leave, “Don’t sweat it – I have a good feeling about you. Name one time I was wrong.”

“How much did you bet Jongin?” Sehun snorted, giving Baekhyun a shove towards the door, “You were wrong in thinking you could seduce Mr Kim.”

“You should’ve seen him, Sehun, he was way stronger than I anticipated, but, cute,” He then paused, “A ripped bunny.”

“Goodnight, Baekhyun,” Sehun finalised and shut the door, wandering back to drop onto the sofa with Chanyeol, “When’s the date?”

“Tuesday,” Chanyeol yawned in reply, “Why?”

“There’s no way I’m letting you dress yourself,” Sehun informed, eyelids shutting, “Gotta send you all nice and pretty in pants so tight ‘dinner’ will be the last thing on Mr Kim’s mind.”

“I’m starting to think you care more about your ‘business’ reputation than my lack of experience in this.”

“Well, yeah,” Sehun replied, “Did he mention anything about after dinner?”

“Told me to keep my schedule empty,” He answered, “Just in case, I guess.”

Sehun hummed, “We’ll see.”

Chanyeol allowed himself to breathe in the late city air; it wasn’t cold, but the last of the summer heat had started to dwindle and it left a chill in the air. They’d agreed on a later dinner and so Chanyeol found himself stood outside a rather upper-class restaurant in an area of the city he ventured into rarely. Chanyeol wasn’t a stranger to fancy foods and expensive clothing – but after he’d cut contact with his parents and relied solely on the money he earned, he hadn’t any reason to live expensively. If only they could see him now – see what he was about to do.

It was a satisfying thought.

He felt oddly calm, Sehun had reminded him multiple times that this wasn’t something he had to do. He’d had days to think about it – he’d had days to come to the conclusion that this was something he wanted to do.

The doorman smiled at Chanyeol as he approached and Chanyeol bowed slightly in thanks, letting his eyes wander over the interior of the restaurant. It felt like any other overpriced restaurant his parents and ‘friends’ had dragged him to over the years – but he refused to let that dampen the small thread of excitement he felt. He made his way over to the bar, picking up a menu to distract himself from the wait.

He wasn’t left waiting long.

“Park Chanyeol,” The voice greeted, tone confident and calm.

Chanyeol turned, the smile pulling at his lips as he replied, “Mr Kim.”

“You look good.”

“You look-” Chanyeol’s eyes met the stranger’s and he had to bite his tongue to stop himself saying something dumb, “Good,” He then swallowed, “You look good, too.”

Beautiful, was the word Chanyeol was looking for. You have the most endearing eyes I’ve ever seen in my life, is what he wanted to say – that the man glowed. That his suit fit him perfectly, that despite the man’s smaller height, in frame he was larger than Chanyeol – his suit jacket hugged his broad shoulders and left little to the imagination. Instead, Chanyeol blushed, he stared; and blushed harder when he noticed the amused tilt to the older man’s lips and his own incredulous behaviour.

Pull it together, man.

“Should we sit?” Mr Kim asked and Chanyeol nodded, not trusting his voice to act in his favour.

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting – but he was certain it wasn’t this.

They were shown to a lone table near the back of the restaurant – a table that was reserved, Chanyeol noted as he sat down carefully and tried to keep his long limbs from doing something embarrassing. It was silent for a few moments as Chanyeol kept his gaze focused on the menu (unable to read, just staring), he assumed Mr Kim was doing the same until he stole a glance upwards, only to meet the eyes of the man in question. He did not blush – he was not some inexperienced teen who struggled to last 5 minutes in the bedroom. Park Chanyeol was not blushing.

He wanted to crawl beneath the table and hide beneath the table cloth costlier than his rent.

“So,” Mr Kim started, his lips twitching upwards, “Nervous?”

“No,” Chanyeol said all too quickly, wanting to narrow his eyes at the way the older man grinned, “I’m not usually like this.”

“You’re not usually shy and prepubescent?” He was teasing him. Chanyeol scowled.

He closed over the menu, holding onto his scowl as he replied, “I’m not used to being on this side of the table. I’m usually the one… making an impression.”

“Ah, so it’s my fault?” Mr Kim smirked, waiting for Chanyeol’s resigned nod, “I see. You’re cute.”

Chanyeol groaned, swallowing his retaliation and instead mumbling, “You’re not funny.”

He found it easier to relax when the waiter appeared to list their orders, Mr Kim offering to buy an expensive (see also: the most expensive) bottle of wine and Chanyeol agreeing under the condition that Mr Kim drank most of it. They both ordered their food and Chanyeol found himself unable to look away from the other man as he spoke to their waiter – Chanyeol was slightly taken aback by the easy boldness that the other man revelled in, perhaps by how smooth his words sounded on his tongue. The way he held himself demanded attention and yet the other appeared more relaxed than Chanyeol tried to look.

Most certainly a lawyer, Chanyeol thought, but not quite the type he was used to.

When he finished ordering, he looked back to Chanyeol and smiled comfortably. For a split second, Chanyeol felt like he was dying. Without being too dramatic.

“A lawyer,” Chanyeol distracted himself by asking, “Is it stressful?”

“At times,” The other agreed, his eyes not leaving Chanyeol’s, “Are you a student?”

“I was,” He replied, the empty wine glass suddenly more interesting to stare at than before.

Mr Kim nodded, “Any particular reason you’re not, anymore?”

Parents. Arrogance. His own pride. He had been the one to terminate his relationship with his parents, refusing to accept a cent and moving to a city they’d never find him at the cost of his education. He never would’ve been eligible for scholarships with the kind of money his parents made.

“A long story – maybe I’ll share it next time.”

“Next time,” The eyes that had previously winded Chanyeol were even more breath-taking when Mr Kim smiled, “That does sound promising.”

The man was undoubtedly beautiful – but Chanyeol was no stranger to beautiful men, so that left him with the question of why. Why was he so easily effected by a man he’d never even met before? Chanyeol was flustered, he wanted to impress the elder without making a fool out of himself in the process.

Chanyeol swallowed, tapping his fingers on the edge of the table, “I was told you were the one I needed to impress.”

Chuckling, the lawyer started to pour wine into Chanyeol’s glass, “Believe me, you’re more than adequate.”

Looking up, Chanyeol found his mind at a loss as to how he was supposed to reply. He chose to let the moment go and watch the rising red liquid in his glass, unsure how his choices in life had led to him having dinner with one of the most beautiful men he’d ever met. Perhaps he should’ve let Sehun talk him into this sooner.

“Your voice is deeper than I expected,” The lawyer continued, filling his own glass next.

“Is that a problem,” Chanyeol asked, looking back to the other man as he added, “Mr Kim?”

“Not at all,” He replied easily, an amused glint to his eyes, “Call me Minseok.”

“Kim Minseok,” Chanyeol repeated the name, it felt good to say and he tried not to think about the way it would sound in other circumstances, “I was unsure if you planned on keeping your name a secret.”

“I considered it,” Minseok admitted, “If this hadn’t worked out, I would’ve.”

“Worked out?”

“Our arrangement,” He informed, leaning back in his chair, “The decision is yours.”


“Mhm. Are you going to answer or are you going to continue repeating the things I say back to me?”

That was all it took for Minseok to force Chanyeol’s blush to rise to his cheeks.

“I wasn’t expecting… I mean – so easily?”

“You seem surprised,” Minseok returned, watching Chanyeol fumble over his words, “Were you expecting something else?”

Chanyeol sipped the wine, clearing his throat, “My answer is yes.”

“I know. I was curious as to how long you’d continue embarrassing yourself.”

“I don’t think I like you.”

“That’s a shame, should I get the bill?” Minseok smiled sweetly.

“Shut up.”

Stood in an elevator next to Kim Minseok made Chanyeol as excited as he was nervous. The other man was smaller and yet his presence made Chanyeol feel half his height – it had been the same at dinner. They’d made idle chatter, filled the time even though they were both aware they wanted nothing more than to return to Minseok’s apartment.

They had just been picked up by Minseok’s driver when Chanyeol’s uncertainty had set in.

“I’m new to this,” Chanyeol had admitted over the quiet hum of the car engine with Minseok’s hand on his thigh.

Minseok had glanced up at him, a softer expression on his face as he’d replied, “I know, Junmyeon informed me that Sehun already threatened to cut up my favourite tie if I stepped out of line.”

“All I’m getting from this is Junmyeon is a snitch and you have a favourite tie?” It was Chanyeol’s turn to tease, “Suddenly you’re not half as scary as you seem.”

“You thought I was scary, that is cute. You don’t have to worry, I think there will be something satisfying in taking this slow,” There was obvious suggestion in Minseok’s words, his hand feeling heavier on Chanyeol’s thigh, “Drawing it out.”

Chanyeol hid his blush beneath the collar of his own jacket, pulling the lapels up to cover his face. Kim fucking Minseok effected Chanyeol’s blood pressure more than any unhealthy lifestyle ever could.

The world beyond the elevator was not one Chanyeol had been expecting. He’d expected Minseok to have money – more than enough money, a highly paid lawyer, good at his job, a hard worker, no time for family but enough time to waste money on pleasure. No, Chanyeol was walking into the penthouse apartment of one the highest fucking skyrise buildings in the city. He’d expected Minseok to have a nice apartment; penthouse of a small apartment building at best.

Did Minseok work for fucking gold? The carpet beneath his feet felt like memory foam. It had been ten seconds and Chanyeol was already feeling like Sehun played him.

Walking through the living area, he allowed his eyes to scan across the expanse of floor to ceiling windows that served Chanyeol with a beautiful skyline horizon view, the moon felt a lot larger than before. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth as he turned to stare at Minseok in slight disbelief.

“I thought you were a lawyer.”

“I am,” Minseok replied, heading towards the kitchen in the corner without expanding.

“What kind of lawyer…” Chanyeol murmured, turning back to the darkened sky that felt a lot closer than it did an hour ago, “I got it – you’re a corrupt lawyer accepting under-the-table money to fix cases for rich mafia bosses.”

Minseok laughed, “Maybe I’ll share – next time.”

“Touché,” Chanyeol replied, squashing down the thought of wow I really like that laugh if there was one sound I had to listen to for the rest of my life-

He shut his mind up by wandering around the open plan living area. The carpet really felt like memory foam. Fluffier.

Minseok took his time pouring out two glasses of an amber Chanyeol didn’t recognise from look alone. It was when he held out Chanyeol’s glass that he noticed Minseok had rolled up his dress shirt sleeves to reveal tan, toned forearms. His tongue felt dry. Averting his eyes, he took the glass and sat himself quietly on the sofa, anticipation already settling low in his stomach.

“Are you seeing anyone, Chanyeol?”

The way Minseok said his name made Chanyeol’s grip on the glass tighten.

“I’m not,” He replied, sipping his drink, “Are you?”

Scotch whiskey. Chanyeol hadn’t tasted something this expensive since Sehun convinced him to break into his parent’s wine cellar reserved for the grander parties. It had been a fun evening.

“I don’t have time for stringed commitment,” Minseok answered, “What’s your excuse?”

“Never found permanency appealing,” Chanyeol admitted in honesty.

Placing his glass down on the glass table, Minseok hummed, “Take your suit jacket off.”

Chanyeol complied, his skin feeling ten degrees hotter than seconds ago. As much as he wanted to say the mood change was sudden, he’d be lying – the moment Minseok had placed his hand on the small of Chanyeol’s back and walked him to the car, Chanyeol had been willing to drop to his knees and be good.

“Asking isn’t your thing?” Chanyeol placed his suit jacket on the sofa next to him.

“I’m not the one who needs to ask,” Minseok replied, considerably content.

“I see that,” Chanyeol replied, watching Minseok closely as he added, “Mr Kim.”

Minseok’s lips tilted upwards slightly, “I was hoping you would, Princess.”

It took a considerable amount of self-control for Chanyeol to bite back the curse on the tip of his tongue. Princess. Chanyeol had never felt so small – so turned on – in his life. He was used to being the one in charge, on top, dominant; Minseok took all of that from him, stripped him down with a simple tilt of his head, eyes watching for every tiny move Chanyeol made. His eyes reminded Chanyeol of a cat, pretty, sure, sly and deceiving – perched above a mouth and a tongue that could tear him open.

“Stand up,” Minseok started, his finger trailing along the rim of his glass, “And unbutton your shirt, for me.”

Chanyeol did so without a sound, the anticipation flooding his veins as his fingers began to unbutton his shirt. He took his time – not too much time – but enough time to not seem eager. Minseok huffed, raising an eyebrow as Chanyeol undid the last button. He let his shirt fall open to reveal the skin beneath.

“Something wrong?” Chanyeol asked, faking innocence with a smile.

“Come here.”

He moved to stand in front of the elder, his heart beating a little less systematic than before. Even like this, looking down at Minseok – even like this, with Minseok sat before him, Chanyeol was well aware that none of the power in the room belonged to him. Chanyeol wasn’t used to wanting things.

His breath hitched when he felt Minseok’s finger trailing along the skin above his belt, his anticipation growing into something close to want. The finger paused at his buckle, hooking lightly so he could direct Chanyeol.

“On your knees,” Minseok’s voice was low, certain.

Chanyeol lowered himself to his knees, the expensive carpet providing enough cushioning for comfort as Chanyeol fitted himself between Minseok’s open legs. He remained silent, his arms hanging uselessly by his sides itching to touch, to feel the other man with his hands. He looked up, want swirling in his stomach at Minseok’s satisfaction.

“Can I...” Chanyeol trailed, his hands hesitating at his sides.

Minseok smirked, well aware of what Chanyeol was trying to ask, “Use your words, Kitten.”

“Can I touch you?”


He placed his hands on Minseok’s knees, feeling the firm muscle beneath his fingers as his hands followed the length of Minseok’s thighs. Increasing the pressure of his hands, he traced his right hand towards the elder’s hips and paused. Moving his eyes from his own hands and to Minseok’s eyes in question, the other man gave him no answer and instead watched, a curious look in his eyes. Chanyeol dipped his hand into the softer inside of Minseok’s thighs.

Gaining more confidence in his actions, he drew nearer to Minseok’s bulge and palmed him softly, watching Minseok carefully and ignoring the fact that Minseok felt big and he wasn’t even fully hard.

“You never told me you were a tease,” Minseok said, his voice a little more controlled than before.

“You never asked,” Chanyeol replied, before applying more pressure with his palm, “I want to taste you.”

“Maybe if you ask.

“Mr Kim,” Chanyeol looked up, feigned innocence on his face as he moved his hand against Minseok’s crotch, “Can I?”

“Can you what? I already told you to use your words, Kitten,” Minseok trailed his fingers along the arm of the chair, “I don’t like to repeat myself.”

Chanyeol swallowed, taking a breath. He was already hard and they hadn’t even done anything – he wasn’t used to this, it was unfamiliar and Chanyeol loved it. He wasn’t familiar with asking to suck his partner’s cock and part of him already wanted to know what would happen if he didn’t ask. He stored the thought for another time and bit his lip.

“Can I taste your cock, Mr Kim?”

Minseok smiled – smirked – and Chanyeol’s breath caught in his throat.


Chanyeol’s hands were no longer hesitant as they undid Minseok’s belt and trousers, not bothering to pull the elder’s trousers down and instead just his underwear. He took Minseok into his mouth, using his hands to pump where his mouth couldn’t yet reach and using his own saliva to help the slide of his hands. Beneath him, Minseok groaned – the sound went straight to Chanyeol’s dick.

Minseok let out a content breath, relaxing back into the chair and tangling his hand in Chanyeol’s hair. He didn’t push, merely scratched his nails gently against Chanyeol’s scalp and Chanyeol keened.

“So pretty,” Minseok praised, his words breathless as he continued to tease his fingers through Chanyeol’s hair.

Chanyeol’s lips were tingling, both from the alcohol and from having them stretched around Minseok. He fell into a rhythm, taking Minseok deeper each time – this wasn’t his first time blowing a dude, but it was his first time blowing someone who resisted thrusting up into his mouth. As much as he wanted that, as much as he wanted Minseok to just tighten his grip and use his mouth, he was just as turned on by the mere control Minseok exhibited over everything.

All too soon, Minseok was tugging him up by his hair and Chanyeol whined – until Minseok pulled him in to kiss, a hand still tangled in his hair as he licked into Chanyeol’s mouth. Chanyeol groaned into the kiss, submitting completely to Minseok’s mouth and enjoying very moment of it. Minseok wasn’t rough – his movements were strong, confident, dominating and Chanyeol found himself whimpering into the other’s mouth as his dick pressed against Minseok’s thigh.

“Take your pants off,” Minseok said as he broke from Chanyeol’s mouth, littering small kisses down Chanyeol’s jawline as he spoke, “Spread yourself out on the sofa, for me.”

Chanyeol complied, sliding both his pants and underwear off and moving to sit on the sofa. Minseok waited for a moment, watching him with his eyes dark. He ran his thumb along his own lower lip to clean away the spit and Chanyeol almost moaned from the sight alone. Minseok pushed himself up, moving to stand between Chanyeol’s semi-spread legs.

When he lowered himself to his knees, Chanyeol almost whimpered.

Minseok’s hands were warm on Chanyeol’s legs, but they didn’t linger long as Minseok pushed Chanyeol’s legs open wider.

“What are you...?” Chanyeol asked, aware that if he looked down his chest would be tinted red with blush.

“I’m going to be honest,” Minseok started as he started stroking Chanyeol’s cock, “I don’t usually do this.”

Chanyeol bit his lip to keep quiet as Minseok’s other hand began to knead the muscle on the inside of Chanyeol’s thigh.

“But you look so fucking good.”

And with that, Minseok lowered his mouth to Chanyeol’s hole.

This time, Chanyeol whimpered, the entire bottom half of his body out of his control – Minseok’s hand felt so good on his dick, but his tongue, Chanyeol was fucked. His head lolled back as he continued to moan, his arms trembling on the sofa – Minseok went on, moulding Chanyeol into a mess beneath his hands and mouth.

It didn’t take long for Chanyeol’s moans to turn into something less conceivable and when Minseok pulled his head away, his lips wet, the strength in Chanyeol’s arms failed him and he fell back against the sofa cushions. He was so fucked.

Minseok leaned away to receive something from a drawer under the table and Chanyeol almost whimpered again at the mere thought of what was about to happen. He was painfully hard, pre-come leaving a small wet trail wherever it touched.

At the press of Minseok’s lubed finger to his entrance, the pleas fell from Chanyeol’s lips without his full awareness.


“That’s a good boy,” Minseok began, pumping his hand as he hummed in thought, “You take my fingers so well, Princess. Do you finger yourself, hm?”

Chanyeol tried to cover his face with his hand, well-aware he was blushing harder than before – but one look from Minseok had him lowering his hand back to the sofa. He nodded, biting down hard on his bottom lip as he tried to keep his own hips still.

Minseok hummed again, kissing the inside of Chanyeol’s thigh as he added another finger. The stretch wasn’t too uncomfortable but Minseok distracted him with his mouth regardless, marking the sensitive skin on Chanyeol’s thighs. Chanyeol was breathing hard, hands digging into the soft cushions beneath him, he wanted more but he knew he had no power here – this was Minseok’s pace and Minseok wanted him wrecked.

By the fourth finger, Chanyeol was a mess – his breath left his lungs in short pants and his mind screamed with want. When Minseok curled his fingers up, Chanyeol also jolted up, a sob leaving his mouth at the white hot pleasure.

“So pretty for me,” Minseok said in a low tone, “So perfect.”

“Minseok,” Chanyeol wanted to sob, “Fuck, please-fuck me.”

It didn’t take long for Minseok to withdraw his fingers, what Chanyeol was not expecting was to be pulled down onto Minseok’s lap – the other stroked him slowly as he sat down in Minseok’s lap, the stretch causing him to bury his head in the crook of Minseok’s neck. When Chanyeol’s ass met Minseok’s thighs, it took him more than a few moments to adjust.

His hands gripped Minseok’s shirt, thighs trembling and Minseok soothed him, pressed kisses along his mouth and to his ear, whispering a quiet ‘you’re doing so well, baby boy’ that made Chanyeol whine into the elder’s neck.

Minseok’s hands were running across his thighs, up his stomach and down his back in soft motions as he waited. Chanyeol was breathing hard, mustering the strength in his thighs to start moving. Minseok caught his lips, kissing him slow and gentle as his hands continued to knead Chanyeol’s thighs and ass.

With the support of Minseok, Chanyeol began to rock himself on the other’s lap. The pleasure was almost instant and his thighs continued to tremble, less so with the support of Minseok’s hands on his ass. It took a few moments for him to find a comfortable rhythm, lifting himself up and dropping back down until Minseok’s cock filled him up again. Moaning almost repetitively, he moved his hands to the sofa behind Minseok’s head and picked up his rhythm – Minseok thrusted up to meet him and Chanyeol couldn’t help the yell that left his mouth alongside his please because Minseok felt so fucking good.

Minseok was nipping along Chanyeol’s neck, his teeth leaving marks as he fucked up into Chanyeol. Chanyeol pushed back just as hard, meeting Minseok’s thrusts and drawing a low groan from the other man – the sound spurred Chanyeol on and he rocked harder against the other, riding Minseok’s thighs and crying out every time Minseok thrusted up at just the right time.

“Shit-fuck, ” Chanyeol let out, unable to catch the curses, “Minseok – Mr Kim. Please-,”

His own dick was left neglected between them as Chanyeol bounced, Minseok panting hard against his skin – when he reached to relieve himself, Minseok caught his hand and pressed it back to his own shoulder. Minseok was slowly picking up the pace, his hands gripping Chanyeol’s hips so tight he was certain there’d be bruises. Chanyeol was forced to hold on to the broad shoulders, his thighs burning as Minseok fucked into him harder and Chanyeol attempted to rut down.

“No touching,” Minseok answered Chanyeol’s pleas, “Be good for me, baby.”

“I-fuck,” Chanyeol groaned, his fingernails digging into Minseok’s shoulders as he chased his release, “I don’t-I can’t.

“You can,” Minseok murmured, using his own strength to bounce Chanyeol as Chanyeol’s strength began to waver, “You can, Princess. For me.”

Please, ” Chanyeol let out, sobbing into Minseok’s chest, “I don’t think I-”

Minseok bit down onto Chanyeol’s clavicle hard and Chanyeol yelled out, every movement Minseok made causing pleasure to shoot up his spine as he found the perfect angle to rut into Chanyeol. Chanyeol’s words became incomprehensible as he tightened his grip on Minseok’s shoulders, his nails leaving track marks even through the shirt. The sweat trickling down his back was nothing compared to the way Minseok snapped his hips up and into Chanyeol – Minseok’s voice at his ear, tone deep and demanding.

He could feel his lower stomach curling tight, a begging need for release that had Chanyeol whining pathetically. He’d never felt so good.

“Chanyeol,” Minseok’s voice was almost a growl, “Baby, you’re doing so well, so good, ” He thrusted up harder, Chanyeol yelling his name with the last of his energy, “You want to be a good boy? Come for me.”

Chanyeol’s hips stuttered, the pleasure rolling over him in waves as he came hard between them. He let out a hiccupped moan into Minseok’s chest as Minseok’s thrusts grew more erratic with the pleasure of Chanyeol’s ass tightening, hot, around him. He groaned Chanyeol’s name, spilling into the younger with the last of his thrusts.

Collapsing forward, Chanyeol fell into Minseok with his strength diminished – Minseok’s chest was rising and falling hard as he breathed, but Chanyeol still curled against him when Minseok raised his arms to wrap around Chanyeol. It should have been awkward, given Chanyeol’s extra height – it wasn’t, it was comfortable, content with post-orgasm bliss.

Chanyeol’s come was sticky where they pressed against each other, but neither of them complained; Minseok dropped a kiss on Chanyeol’s sweaty hairline, chuckling a little at Chanyeol’s little huff.

They remained stayed still for a few further moments, catching their breath.

“That was nice,” Chanyeol’s voice sounded rough when he spoke.

Chanyeol felt the puff of Minseok’s laugh on his hair, “I agree. We should clean up, though.”

Tightening his hold on the other, Chanyeol shook his head. He was too tired to move, he was perfectly fine laying here and not cringing at the empty feeling as Minseok removed himself. Everything felt better like this.

“We shouldn’t clean up,” Chanyeol disagreed, tucking his head further into Minseok’s chest.

“We’re cleaning up.”

Chanyeol tilted his head up to pout at Minseok, “I’m tired.”

When Minseok leaned down to kiss Chanyeol’s pouting lips, Chanyeol knew he shouldn’t have felt that flutter in his chest, the light feeling in his stomach – his heart rate shouldn’t have picked up at something the other man considered a pleasure arrangement. That’s not how this worked – not after a day, after one fuck.

“You did well,” Minseok kissed him again, kissed him until Chanyeol was left breathless and blushing, “Let me take care of you.”

Chanyeol nodded.

If he’d known being taken care of translated to ‘pick Chanyeol up and carry him to a bathroom bigger than his apartment’, he might have rejected. He did reject, a few moments too late, by which time he was already in the air and what the fuck.

“Baekhyun was right,” Chanyeol huffed as Minseok set him down in the bathroom to run a bath.

“And what was he right about?” Minseok asked, pouring a lotion into the way-too-large bathtub.

“You’re cute,” Chanyeol started.

“I’ll indulge you,” Minseok replied, amused, “Go on.”

“And ripped,” Chanyeol repeated Baekhyun’s words, “A ripped bunny.”

“A ripped bunny,” Minseok repeated.

“I’m still high from the whole-” Chanyeol waved his hands between them, “Orgasm experience. Can I request plausible deniability?”

“Under what pretence?” Minseok asked, indulging him once again in amusement.

“So many.”

Minseok snorted, “So many.”

“Are you telling me ‘so many’ wouldn’t hold up in a court of law?” Chanyeol asked, appreciating the view of Minseok’s back as he disposed of his shirt, letting it drop to the floor.

“Depends how good your lawyer is,” Minseok replied, smugly.

Chanyeol hummed, pretending to consider Minseok for a second, “So, how good are you?”

“Judging from these,” Minseok pointed to the scratches on the back of his shoulders in the mirror, “I’m guessing pretty good.”

“Sorry,” Chanyeol replied, rather sheepishly, “I didn’t… well, I did mean to, but at the time it felt like a good idea, but I just realised we didn’t discuss that, I’m sorry I-”

“You’re cute,” Minseok said again.

“I’m not cute,” Chanyeol grumbled, looking down at the marks on his thighs to avert his gaze.

The marks looked good there, small splotches of dark red and purple painting the paler, softer skin between his thighs. He wouldn’t admit it aloud, but he liked them – liked the small sting from the bite on his clavicle Minseok left.

“So cute.”

“You were okay, I guess,” Chanyeol shot back in defence.

“I’ll remember that.”


It turned out that ‘being taken care of’ was a literal meaning, for Minseok cleaned Chanyeol in the bath whilst leaving light trails of kisses everywhere his lips went. Chanyeol felt content in the heat of the water, his back against Minseok’s chest and Minseok’s fingers massaging shampoo through his hair. His thighs ached and he assumed (correctly) that they would hurt even more the following day. He didn’t mind much.

He kind of liked it.

He liked it a lot.

Chanyeol dozed off a few times in the bath, the heat and lack of energy wrapping around him with Minseok’s arms. Minseok pulled him out of the bath, handing him a towel and plopping a smaller one atop his head as he fetched one for himself. There were a few moments wherein Chanyeol debated whether the lull of silence was a good thing – it felt good, natural and comfortable. Stress-free.

Begrudgingly, Baekhyun and Sehun had been right. Good sex, good money.

Kim Minseok.

“Busy?” Minseok asked.

He glanced up to meet Minseok’s eyes in the mirror, smiling a little, “Sleepy.”

He was lead into the bedroom by Minseok, who handed him a large t-shirt and pulled on some comfortable clothes of his own, before tugging Chanyeol beneath the heavy covers of the bed. Chanyeol curled up around Minseok’s side, his hands tracing light patterns on the muscle beneath as he allowed his own breathing to even out and his mind to drift.