in which Chanyeol ties a streamer around Baekhyun's neck and things happen [PWP]
i have been wanting to write this for a while. ubomb was the catalyst, because of reasons
Baekhyun feels fucking ridiculous.
It had sounded like a good idea in his head: bribe the members to let him shower first, use the body soap that Chanyeol liked, the one that smelt of cherries and mangoes, strip off all his clothes, retrieve the streamer that he had stuffed into the pocket of his jacket from this afternoon’s recording, tie it into a bow around his neck, and they lay on the bed to wait for Chanyeol.
Except now that he is actually stark naked except for the streamer, leaning against the bed frame, legs sprawled open and cock heavy in between, he wish he could crawl into a hole somewhere and bury himself.
He stays in position though, wanton and open, even as his mind drifts back to the afternoon, and the specific event that had induced this bout of madness in it.
It isn’t as if anyone is paying any attention to them, not when they are one of the new groups out of so many other. Chanyeol is standing behind Baekhyun, his presence a comforting, solid weight against the backdrop of noise and celebration.
When Chanyeol snatches a falling streamer from the air and wounds it around Baekhyun’s neck, crossing it in the front, Baekhyun feels himself stop breathing instinctively. It’s a familiar pressure, a game they have played before, the way the intersection of the streamer presses against the hollow of his throat. He feels blood rushing away from his head even as he continues holding his breath. Chanyeol knots the streamer into a bow that sits on the hollow of his neck, just on the verge of too tight, the edges of the streamer digging into the thin skin.
He finally takes in a breath, swallowing, and the soft pressure against his neck is a reminder of what Chanyeol has and had done before.
“You like this, don’t you?” Chanyeol whispers, even as he tugs on the streamer from the back of Baekhyun’s neck. Baekhyun can’t help the smile that dance across his lips, just a small quirk to the side, eyes crinkling ever so slightly.
“Yes,” he replies, throat working against the pressure.
He comes back to reality when he hears a familiar voice call him, and he realizes he has a hand around his cock, jerking off. His hand is slippery with pre-come, and he feels a blush creep up his neck as Chanyeol watches him, eyes dark instead of being filled with their usual sunshine.
His hand stills, and he looks at Chanyeol too, uses his other hand to beckon Chanyeol towards him. Chanyeol comes to him, almost if Baekhyun has an invisible lasso on him, and the next thing he knows, he is flat on the bed, mouth assaulted by another and both wrists held against sterile white bed sheets. Chanyeol’s mouth is unyielding, insistent, an all too fast flurry of teeth and tongue, sloppy with saliva. Baekhyun lets Chanyeol kiss him, lets Chanyeol bite on his lower lip hard enough to draw the slightest of blood, and lets Chanyeol suck on the fresh wound.
When Chanyeol leans further down to kiss under his jaw, all over his neck, the friction of Chanyeol’s clothes against his bare skin makes him jerk up towards Chanyeol’s tongue. Chanyeol tugs on the loosely tied bow with his teeth, pulls it apart before licking around the newly exposed skin.
Chanyeol shifts down and his mouth is now busy on Baekhyun’s exposed chest. He has released Baekhyun’s hands, and Baekhyun immediately tangles fingers into Chanyeol’s hair, still slightly damped from his shower. He jerks towards Chanyeol when the latter nibbles along his collarbone, teeth gentle and not even marking, each bite sending a small shot of static into him.
It doesn’t surprise him when Chanyeol straddles him, coarse material of the pants he is wearing rubbing against Baekhyun’s cock. Chanyeol picks up the loose ends of the unraveled streamer and re-crosses them across the front of Baekhyun’s neck.
“Are you sure you want this again?” Chanyeol asks, leaning down to whisper into Baekhyun’s ear, breath warm. He licks a trail up the outer edge of Baekhyun’s ear, and Baekhyun can’t stop the shiver that courses through him. Baekhyun nods, swallowing visibly.
“You know what to do if you want to stop it,” Chanyeol says, and he doesn’t wait for Baekhyun to answer before roughly crossing the streamer and pressing the intersection against his neck. He pulls it tighter than he did before, the material digging deep into the hollow of Baekhyun’s neck. Baekhyun breathes hard, tries to get use the unrelenting pressure against his throat, the fact that every breath is one pulls at his lungs. Swallowing becomes a problem too, but everything else seems to intensify for a moment, the way he is naked, cool air on his skin, or the way his cock is hard and he’s almost on the verge of coming, and the way the streamer seems to be cutting through his skin, painful.
When Chanyeol presses fingertips against the hollow, Baekhyun wants to thrash, wants to rut against him, wants to repeat Chanyeol’s name like a mantra, but all he manages to let out is a strangled gasp, body jerking involuntarily. Chanyeol’s fingers are almost uncaring in the way they do not budge at all, even as Baekhyun’s fingers curl around the bed sheet, even as he feels a sort of weighted lightness take over his head. The need for oxygen burns in his lungs, and a hand reaches out to push at Chanyeol’s forearm weakly.
The rush of air that he breathes in when Chanyeol’s fingertips loosen is interrupted by his coughing. He breathes deep afterwards, takes in as much oxygen as he can before Chanyeol clamps a single hand around his neck. His other hand reaches down for Baekhyun’s cock, and his touch is like electricity, the lack of oxygen in Baekhyun’s head both blurring and heightening his senses. Every nerve in his body seems to explode, become nothing but pure energy, when Chanyeol flicks his thumb across the slit, while his other fingers are curled around his cock, pumping.
Baekhyun feels tears prick the corner of his eyes as his body struggles from the lack of oxygen. Chanyeol’s hand is still jerking him off, each slide of his hand sending pinpricks of heat and electricity through Baekhyun’s body that pool at his groin. He is close to coming; he can feel it, even as his head becomes a mess of colours and sensations, of incoherent thoughts and a string of Chanyeol Chanyeol Chanyeol
He comes just as Chanyeol releases his hand around his neck. It’s overwhelming, the way his lungs are greedily taking in oxygen, head clearing, even as he comes all over his own bare stomach and the fabric of Chanyeol’s pants.
The next morning, as he stands in front of the mirror preparing for the day, he can’t help but press his fingers against the bruises on his neck, bruises that are the exact shape of Chanyeol’s fingertips.
- ubomb is the worst, absolute worst. kktalk and reasons spurred this.
- windlost and halcyondusk should learn to be less rude.
- sigh first baekyeol and it's already like this.
- i have a lot of things i need to write. and then this happened in a single seating...
- twitter: zitaoge (mention me if added)