two smut drabbles
TITLE: party hard
WORD COUNT: 822
PAIRING: baekchen
RATING: NC-17
SYNPOSIS: But they're guests in this house and Jongdae holds back the tying up and daddy catcalls for their own apartment.
NOTES: college au. completely pointless pwp. there is no plot. a warning to readers, jongdae is a douchey heteronormative male in this fic. if that makes you uncomfortable, please don't read!
Baekhyun's fingers are gorgeous, long and slender and if he wasn't one hundred percent sure that there was a dick in his pants, he'd be sure the other was a girl at first glance.
A very flat chested girl, but nonetheless.
With thighs so curvy he wants to bury his face in them, and an ass to pound into the mattress, Jongdae can't complain. Sure, the idea of dating guys at first was a little ick-worthy, a little weird, but Baekhyun had the body of a woman and to be honest, he blew better than any of Jongdae's past girlfriends.
The dick was a quickly overcome obstacle, especially when Jongdae realized the sounds he could get from the other when he put his tongue to work.
But it's still those fingers, above it all, that get him. Especially when they're crooking just right, beckoning him from across the room, and coupled with bedroom eyes that say, 'Jongdae, please fuck me until I can't breathe' (in that whiny aegyo voice of his), forget it. Jongdae's out for the count.
That's why he's easily pushing through the crowd of drunk college kids, side stepping a grinding couple, hobbling over that drunk freshman kid with the rainbow hair. Nah, everything is in his way.
He catches Baekhyun's wrist and drags him towards the stairs, the smaller boy's laughter cutting through the heavy bass of the shitty hiphop that ~DJ ABHZT~ keeps bleeding into his eardrums with. The stairs are a bit hard to climb, mostly because of the kids sitting everywhere, and Jongdae doesn't even apologize when he steps on Jongin's hand.
He finds a room, thankfully unoccupied, and pushes Baekhyun down onto the bed. The other laughs, loud and giggling, before beckoning him again, legs spread.
Fuck. Jongdae's gone.
Climbing over him, he meets Baekhyun's mouth firmly, crashing into him with teeth and tongue and lips and practically devouring him because Baekhyun's mouth is softer, hotter, wetter than a girl's. Sure, he doesn't have tits, and let's face it, Jongdae does miss squeezing tits, but his ass is enough to make up for it, and the brunette's hands shoot down to grab two glorious handfuls of asscheek, squeezing to his heart's content.
Baekhyun grinds up, moaning brokenly into Jongdae's mouth, and there's a taste of alcohol between them. God, Jongdae loves it when he's drunk. Dirtier and less inhibited (as if he wasn't like that before) and that's when they get to just do the real nasty shit.
But they're guests in this house and Jongdae holds back the tying up and daddy catcalls for their own apartment.
Instead, he works the other's pants off, tossing his own elsewhere as well and drops a hand to quickly wrap around the other's cock, pumping him to full hardness and biting onto his bottom lip. Baekhyun whines, needy, whispers something about wanting Jongdae's cock in his ass, and Jongdae lets out a heavy whine. How can Baekhyun turn him on so bad? It should be fucking illegal.
Who's house was this again? Oh, right, Luhan's. That kid was gay as fuck, he was bound to have lube around here somewhere, wasn't he? Begrudgingly abandoning Baekhyun for only a moment, he crawls over to the bedside table to yank open the drawers, searching for a familiar bottle. Sure enough, he finds it in the top drawer, hardly even hidden, rolling his eyes. Boring like it's owner.
Whatever; popping the cap, he fishes a condom out of his pocket, rolls it on, and slicks himself up. Baekhyun glares expectantly from his spot on the bed, those delicious fingers up his ass, and Jongdae gives him a look like, 'yo, hold your horses, I'm going as fast as I can over here,' before tossing the bottle and scooting back to Baekhyun.
Letting out a pleased purr, Baekhyun rolls them over, straddles Jongdae's waist, and sinks down onto him with little difficulty. Jongdae's in heaven, fingers digging into Baekhyun's waist hard enough to bruise, and he's pretty sure the other's going to feel it in the morning with how hard he's riding him. But damn, what a show. Jongdae can barely catch his breath, watching the other, one beautiful hand buried in his hair while the other holds onto Jongdae's shoulder, bouncing like his life depends on it.
Jongdae assures him it does.
Grabbing the other's cock, he pulls in time to the thrusts, toes curling and heels probably digging trenches in Luhan's bed. Baekhyun's loud, the cries probably easily making it over the shitty sounds of Tinashe and Jongdae loves it.
When Baekhyun comes, Jongdae covers it with his hand, tries to keep from making a mess, but when it's a lost cause, he smears it on Luhan's sheets instead, ramming up into the other's oversensitive ass until his own release follows shortly after.
Sweaty and sated, they slump over, and Jongdae seals a kiss over Baekhyun's plump mouth, pleased. Luhan's gonna have to do laundry, but it was definitely worth it.
TITLE: he doesn't know
WORD COUNT: 886
PAIRING: taohun, sutao
RATING: NC-17
SYNPOSIS: His eyes keep flickering back to the corner; Zitao's got his tongue down Joonmyun's throat now and Sehun tastes bile.
NOTES: corrupt business au. there's a plot if you squint but not really. tw: mention of drugs
Watching Zitao across the room makes the jealousy boil in Sehun's stomach, licking his lips sharply and trying so badly to look away. But it's hard when Zitao's fingers are sliding down Joonmyun's tie, gripping at the bottom and pulling playfully. They curl and twist and tease each other in the corner of the room, as if it isn't a party filled with important people and high class sponsors.
But if the small bags of pills on Sehun's tray have anything to do with it, they're all fucking high. It's like some sort of debauched form of appetizers, with old shitbags gesturing him over, asking for a bag of this, a bag of that, pulling out hundreds to do lines of coke off escorts' backs.
Sehun hates it, the fact that he's even here, and if it wasn't for the lump of cash Joonmyun puts in his pocket, he'd find something else. But that's a lie and he knows it.
His eyes keep flickering back to the corner; Zitao's got his tongue down Joonmyun's throat now and Sehun tastes bile. He hands his tray off to another 'waiter' shortly and pushes his way out onto the balcony. Once the night air hits his face, he shivers, loosening his bowtie and leaning against the railing, pushing his hands into his hair, almost contemplating hopping the guardrail and pretending he can fly. But this is the 34th floor and things wouldn't end well.
He smells Zitao before he hears him as the other slinks into place beside him, bringing with him the scent of expensive brands and class. Their shoulders press together and Sehun tries to look away, anywhere but the tan fingers dancing up his milky wrist.
"Should we go somewhere..?" Zitao purrs out, voice liquid gold in Sehun's ears and he wants so badly to say yes, to run away with Zitao like he wants to, needs to, but he knows it's a trick question. Zitao just wants Sehun to say yes so he can play him like he does every single time. Yet Sehun keeps on letting him play.
"Your Daddy won't let you go anywhere, don't even lie," Sehun snorts irritably, rolling his eyes and pushing away from the rail. "I have shit to hand out." Zitao reaches out, catching his wrist, and turns to pull him in against his broad chest. His shirt dips far too low to be appropriate and Sehun's eyes are drawn down to the expanse of tan skin before he can stop himself, eyeing the foreign bruises there.
"He's high as fuck right now...I know where we can get away..."
Sehun whines and Zitao knows he's won, quickly yanking him back through the crowd, disappearing into an off-corridor. Once they're in darkness, some off-room in Joonmyun's penthouse, Sehun's hands take their own reigns and pin Zitao roughly to the wall.
They fuck with heated gasps and dirty whispers, wrinkling their clothes and raking nails roughly against skin. Zitao assures him that any mark he leaves, Joonmyun won't question, since he's so high he'll assume he'd made them himself.
And though Sehun wants to be careful, Zitao is inviting, so hot and unbearably tight and as he shoves the other to his knees, he buries his hands in his hair and fucks into his throat relentlessly. The noises are disgusting and yet so fucking gorgeous and Sehun comes hard and fast down his throat, seeing stars and getting dizzy.
Zitao's quick to whine for compensation, clawing and crying and tugging at Sehun's hands until the other flips him over and buries his fingers in his ass, twisting and pushing at nerves, pumping with the other. Zitao begs and Sehun has to wonder if this is what Joonmyun gets, if this is what he sees every night.
Zitao comes, quivering and broken, curled up against the tile floor, breaths hot and ragged. Sehun pulls away, before turning to drape himself over the other, kissing at the backs of his shoulder, at the soft bone of his spine.
Sehun hates himself and no drug on his trays compare to Zitao; he's addicted to the fucks, to the heated blowjobs at every party. To the secret dates they go on and somehow addicted to the way Zitao ignores him the second Joonmyun's around. It's some sort of constant vicious cycle of deprecation and Sehun tries to clean Zitao up with his shirt before pulling his clothes back on.
Zitao rolls over to stare up at the other, eyes seemingly lit in the dark, dangerous and seductive, and it takes everything in Sehun to walk away. A quick stop in the bathroom gives him a chance to clean up, make himself look mildly presentable, but no matter what, it's evident to anyone who really looks to tell he'd just fucked his emotions away.
When he returns to the floor and finds his tray, he feels the ice on him. He doesn't have to turn around to know Joonmyun's staring, hard and cold and mildly terrifying from behind folded hands. Sure enough, when Sehun turns to give up a packet of cocaine to Joonmyun's VP, the "too high to know" CEO sits, relaxed, leaning against his palm and staring holes into him.
Joonmyun gives a polite smile, and Sehun feels the hatred. He shivers, turning away and pretending someone'd called him from the other end of the room.
WORD COUNT: 822
PAIRING: baekchen
RATING: NC-17
SYNPOSIS: But they're guests in this house and Jongdae holds back the tying up and daddy catcalls for their own apartment.
NOTES: college au. completely pointless pwp. there is no plot. a warning to readers, jongdae is a douchey heteronormative male in this fic. if that makes you uncomfortable, please don't read!
Baekhyun's fingers are gorgeous, long and slender and if he wasn't one hundred percent sure that there was a dick in his pants, he'd be sure the other was a girl at first glance.
A very flat chested girl, but nonetheless.
With thighs so curvy he wants to bury his face in them, and an ass to pound into the mattress, Jongdae can't complain. Sure, the idea of dating guys at first was a little ick-worthy, a little weird, but Baekhyun had the body of a woman and to be honest, he blew better than any of Jongdae's past girlfriends.
The dick was a quickly overcome obstacle, especially when Jongdae realized the sounds he could get from the other when he put his tongue to work.
But it's still those fingers, above it all, that get him. Especially when they're crooking just right, beckoning him from across the room, and coupled with bedroom eyes that say, 'Jongdae, please fuck me until I can't breathe' (in that whiny aegyo voice of his), forget it. Jongdae's out for the count.
That's why he's easily pushing through the crowd of drunk college kids, side stepping a grinding couple, hobbling over that drunk freshman kid with the rainbow hair. Nah, everything is in his way.
He catches Baekhyun's wrist and drags him towards the stairs, the smaller boy's laughter cutting through the heavy bass of the shitty hiphop that ~DJ ABHZT~ keeps bleeding into his eardrums with. The stairs are a bit hard to climb, mostly because of the kids sitting everywhere, and Jongdae doesn't even apologize when he steps on Jongin's hand.
He finds a room, thankfully unoccupied, and pushes Baekhyun down onto the bed. The other laughs, loud and giggling, before beckoning him again, legs spread.
Fuck. Jongdae's gone.
Climbing over him, he meets Baekhyun's mouth firmly, crashing into him with teeth and tongue and lips and practically devouring him because Baekhyun's mouth is softer, hotter, wetter than a girl's. Sure, he doesn't have tits, and let's face it, Jongdae does miss squeezing tits, but his ass is enough to make up for it, and the brunette's hands shoot down to grab two glorious handfuls of asscheek, squeezing to his heart's content.
Baekhyun grinds up, moaning brokenly into Jongdae's mouth, and there's a taste of alcohol between them. God, Jongdae loves it when he's drunk. Dirtier and less inhibited (as if he wasn't like that before) and that's when they get to just do the real nasty shit.
But they're guests in this house and Jongdae holds back the tying up and daddy catcalls for their own apartment.
Instead, he works the other's pants off, tossing his own elsewhere as well and drops a hand to quickly wrap around the other's cock, pumping him to full hardness and biting onto his bottom lip. Baekhyun whines, needy, whispers something about wanting Jongdae's cock in his ass, and Jongdae lets out a heavy whine. How can Baekhyun turn him on so bad? It should be fucking illegal.
Who's house was this again? Oh, right, Luhan's. That kid was gay as fuck, he was bound to have lube around here somewhere, wasn't he? Begrudgingly abandoning Baekhyun for only a moment, he crawls over to the bedside table to yank open the drawers, searching for a familiar bottle. Sure enough, he finds it in the top drawer, hardly even hidden, rolling his eyes. Boring like it's owner.
Whatever; popping the cap, he fishes a condom out of his pocket, rolls it on, and slicks himself up. Baekhyun glares expectantly from his spot on the bed, those delicious fingers up his ass, and Jongdae gives him a look like, 'yo, hold your horses, I'm going as fast as I can over here,' before tossing the bottle and scooting back to Baekhyun.
Letting out a pleased purr, Baekhyun rolls them over, straddles Jongdae's waist, and sinks down onto him with little difficulty. Jongdae's in heaven, fingers digging into Baekhyun's waist hard enough to bruise, and he's pretty sure the other's going to feel it in the morning with how hard he's riding him. But damn, what a show. Jongdae can barely catch his breath, watching the other, one beautiful hand buried in his hair while the other holds onto Jongdae's shoulder, bouncing like his life depends on it.
Jongdae assures him it does.
Grabbing the other's cock, he pulls in time to the thrusts, toes curling and heels probably digging trenches in Luhan's bed. Baekhyun's loud, the cries probably easily making it over the shitty sounds of Tinashe and Jongdae loves it.
When Baekhyun comes, Jongdae covers it with his hand, tries to keep from making a mess, but when it's a lost cause, he smears it on Luhan's sheets instead, ramming up into the other's oversensitive ass until his own release follows shortly after.
Sweaty and sated, they slump over, and Jongdae seals a kiss over Baekhyun's plump mouth, pleased. Luhan's gonna have to do laundry, but it was definitely worth it.
TITLE: he doesn't know
WORD COUNT: 886
PAIRING: taohun, sutao
RATING: NC-17
SYNPOSIS: His eyes keep flickering back to the corner; Zitao's got his tongue down Joonmyun's throat now and Sehun tastes bile.
NOTES: corrupt business au. there's a plot if you squint but not really. tw: mention of drugs
Watching Zitao across the room makes the jealousy boil in Sehun's stomach, licking his lips sharply and trying so badly to look away. But it's hard when Zitao's fingers are sliding down Joonmyun's tie, gripping at the bottom and pulling playfully. They curl and twist and tease each other in the corner of the room, as if it isn't a party filled with important people and high class sponsors.
But if the small bags of pills on Sehun's tray have anything to do with it, they're all fucking high. It's like some sort of debauched form of appetizers, with old shitbags gesturing him over, asking for a bag of this, a bag of that, pulling out hundreds to do lines of coke off escorts' backs.
Sehun hates it, the fact that he's even here, and if it wasn't for the lump of cash Joonmyun puts in his pocket, he'd find something else. But that's a lie and he knows it.
His eyes keep flickering back to the corner; Zitao's got his tongue down Joonmyun's throat now and Sehun tastes bile. He hands his tray off to another 'waiter' shortly and pushes his way out onto the balcony. Once the night air hits his face, he shivers, loosening his bowtie and leaning against the railing, pushing his hands into his hair, almost contemplating hopping the guardrail and pretending he can fly. But this is the 34th floor and things wouldn't end well.
He smells Zitao before he hears him as the other slinks into place beside him, bringing with him the scent of expensive brands and class. Their shoulders press together and Sehun tries to look away, anywhere but the tan fingers dancing up his milky wrist.
"Should we go somewhere..?" Zitao purrs out, voice liquid gold in Sehun's ears and he wants so badly to say yes, to run away with Zitao like he wants to, needs to, but he knows it's a trick question. Zitao just wants Sehun to say yes so he can play him like he does every single time. Yet Sehun keeps on letting him play.
"Your Daddy won't let you go anywhere, don't even lie," Sehun snorts irritably, rolling his eyes and pushing away from the rail. "I have shit to hand out." Zitao reaches out, catching his wrist, and turns to pull him in against his broad chest. His shirt dips far too low to be appropriate and Sehun's eyes are drawn down to the expanse of tan skin before he can stop himself, eyeing the foreign bruises there.
"He's high as fuck right now...I know where we can get away..."
Sehun whines and Zitao knows he's won, quickly yanking him back through the crowd, disappearing into an off-corridor. Once they're in darkness, some off-room in Joonmyun's penthouse, Sehun's hands take their own reigns and pin Zitao roughly to the wall.
They fuck with heated gasps and dirty whispers, wrinkling their clothes and raking nails roughly against skin. Zitao assures him that any mark he leaves, Joonmyun won't question, since he's so high he'll assume he'd made them himself.
And though Sehun wants to be careful, Zitao is inviting, so hot and unbearably tight and as he shoves the other to his knees, he buries his hands in his hair and fucks into his throat relentlessly. The noises are disgusting and yet so fucking gorgeous and Sehun comes hard and fast down his throat, seeing stars and getting dizzy.
Zitao's quick to whine for compensation, clawing and crying and tugging at Sehun's hands until the other flips him over and buries his fingers in his ass, twisting and pushing at nerves, pumping with the other. Zitao begs and Sehun has to wonder if this is what Joonmyun gets, if this is what he sees every night.
Zitao comes, quivering and broken, curled up against the tile floor, breaths hot and ragged. Sehun pulls away, before turning to drape himself over the other, kissing at the backs of his shoulder, at the soft bone of his spine.
Sehun hates himself and no drug on his trays compare to Zitao; he's addicted to the fucks, to the heated blowjobs at every party. To the secret dates they go on and somehow addicted to the way Zitao ignores him the second Joonmyun's around. It's some sort of constant vicious cycle of deprecation and Sehun tries to clean Zitao up with his shirt before pulling his clothes back on.
Zitao rolls over to stare up at the other, eyes seemingly lit in the dark, dangerous and seductive, and it takes everything in Sehun to walk away. A quick stop in the bathroom gives him a chance to clean up, make himself look mildly presentable, but no matter what, it's evident to anyone who really looks to tell he'd just fucked his emotions away.
When he returns to the floor and finds his tray, he feels the ice on him. He doesn't have to turn around to know Joonmyun's staring, hard and cold and mildly terrifying from behind folded hands. Sure enough, when Sehun turns to give up a packet of cocaine to Joonmyun's VP, the "too high to know" CEO sits, relaxed, leaning against his palm and staring holes into him.
Joonmyun gives a polite smile, and Sehun feels the hatred. He shivers, turning away and pretending someone'd called him from the other end of the room.