Call Me, Maybe?
Call me, maybe?
Chanyeol/EXO
NC-17
Humor
Chanyeol is a phone sex operator of questionable ability.
A/N: this is a prompt fill for anon on exopromptmeme. I hope you enjoy!
When Chanyeol was growing up as an awkward, chubby, ferret loving kid, he never imagined himself seductively getting men off through the phone during their lunch breaks. Good, because a 12 year old with that as a career path has serious problems. Chanyeol has a serious problem though, and that’s his job. He read an ad in the newspaper about a lucrative call service for males. He thought it meant they were hiring males, not that he would be helping Mr. Heavy Breather take care of his erection while his wife is downstairs making dinner. In all fairness, it’s not the worst job in the world. He gets to sit on his ass in his apartment, reading manga or playing video games, while eating pizza and lazily getting Mr. High Pitched Moaner to come. He doesn’t have to dress up. He doesn’t have to interact with annoying coworkers. It’s a pretty easy job, and also rather interesting.
So that’s why, after a few weeks of working as a phone sex operator, he decided to document the more interesting callers. Here are his favorites:
Mr. Lame = Suho
Mr. Whiny = Luhan
Mr. Serious Business = Kris
Mr. Oblivious = Tao
Mr. High School = Sehun
Mr. Sassy = Chen
Mr. Chocolate Boy = D.O.
Mr. Life Advice = Lay
Mr. Cutie = Xiumin
Mr. Popular = Kai
Mr. Boss Man = Baekhyun
//
Mr. Lame
One afternoon, Chanyeol is beating his own high score on Surgeon Simulator, performing brain surgery on some half-dead dude, when he gets a call. It’s his work phone, so he pauses the game and bounces up to answer it.
“Hello, this Chanyeol, how can I help you?” he says, using his best sexy tone. It’s not that hard, what with his grizzly bear voice. Chanyeol knows his voice is 100% why they hired him. He had no previous job experience and he almost drenched the boss in his own coffee during the interview. so it was either his voice, or they were incredibly desperate. Chances are it was both.
“Uhm hi,” the man says, sounding shy. “Uhm I’m-“
“I don’t need to know your name, sir,” Chanyeol says, flopping back down in his bean bag chair. “I just need to know what you like.”
“Uhm, like?”
Chanyeol turns the game back on. “Yes like,” he drawls. “What do you want me to do to you?”
“Uhm Uhm Uhm.”
Chanyeol rolls his eyes. If the dude keeps stuttering like this, the hour is going to go by without Chanyeol even doing anything. Well, now that he thinks about it, that wouldn’t be such a tragedy. He removes the patient’s ribs in the game while he waits for the man to start telling him his sexual desires.
“I don’t know what to say. I’ve never done this before.”
Chanyeol pops a handful of nuts into his mouth and chews loudly.
“Are you eating?” the customer asks, sounding so incredibly annoyed, like he’s about to put his hand through the phone and choke him. “Are you supposed to be eating?”
“I don’t know,” Chanyeol shrugs, even though the man can’t see him. Then he lowers his voice again. “Do you want me to be eating?”
There’s silence on the other end. Then the man clears his throat. “Uhm, well no. I’d like it if you just…how are you dressed?”
Chanyeol pauses the video and looks down at his “uniform”. Most days he’s naked, which often helps to get in the mood with customers, but today he threw on his favorite hoodie with barbecue sauce stains all over it. He wonders whether he should say that to the guy or not. His mom always taught him honesty was the best policy.
“I’m in a dirty hoodie,” Chanyeol says, but when the man says “huh”, he rushes to fix it, “I mean sexy. A dirty, sexy hoodie.”
“O-Kay,” the man says slowly. “What were you doing before I called?”
Chanyeol finds this pretty weird. What does this dude expect him to say? Sure, he’s a phone sex operator but it’s not like he spends 24 hours of the day jacking off. Like, is that what he’s supposed to do? That would be awesome, but he sadly doesn’t have the energy to keep a boner up for 24 hours.
“I was just…you know, doing stuff.”
The man takes in a breath, probably considering jacking off to Dora. It would no doubt be more effective than whatever Chanyeol is attempting to do.
“What kind of stuff?” the caller asks.
“Oh, just…you know, sexy…stuff?”
The man hangs up.
//
Mr. Whiny
Chanyeol is heating up a hot pocket when he gets a work call. His phone is on the counter because he had just finished up with a caller who had a food fetish. It made Chanyeol so hungry that he had to hang up and heat up something from his fridge. Seeing as half the contents of said fridge are passed their expiration date, the only options were between a hot pocket and a pop-tart. Chanyeol still doesn’t know why he keeps his pop-tarts in the fridge.
“Hello, Sexy Sex Phone Boner Delivery Service, how may I help you?” Chanyeol thinks he’s clever. The caller, however, does not.
“What the fuck?” the guy says. “Is this even the right number?”
“Are you calling for phone sex?” Chanyeol asks dully, watching the hot pocket turn beautifully in the microwave. Chanyeol never noticed before how dazzling hot pockets truly are.
“Ye-yeah,” there’s a pause, “Can I get someone else?”
“What? Why?” Chanyeol says indignantly. “I’m a great phone sex operator!”
“Oh yeah, prove it?” the man says. “If you can get me off in the next ten minutes, I’ll call again every day for a week!”
One does not simply challenge Chanyeol. “Oh alright, so do you like food play?”
“No.”
“Pet play?”
“Nope.”
“Water play? Blood play? Horse play?”
“You’re just saying random things and the word play afterward,” the man sighs. “You’re terrible at this. If I call this number again will I get you every time?”
“Probably,” Chanyeol says, taking his hot pocket and blowing on it with great delight. Maybe he’d be better at his job if he imagined each strange caller’s dick in the shape of a hot pocket.
“I’m going to send in a complaint to your supervisor,” the man threatens.
Chanyeol scoffs. “Oh, well you wouldn’t be the first person to do that so go right ahead. Fifteen complaints later, and I’m still at it. No one can get me out of this lucrative job!”
The caller hangs up.
//
Mr. Serious Business
Before Chanyeol even has a chance to say hello, the caller is already explaining how everything is going to go down.
“I want you to tie your hands behind your back and spread your legs wide. You’re gonna wait like that for me until I decide to start pounding into you. I’m going to grab- do you have long hair?”
Chanyeol gulps. He was in the middle of an afternoon nap when this dude called so he’s a little disoriented. He doesn’t know if he’s in a position to be sexy and seductive. He can’t even remember what he had for breakfast this morning. “Lasagna,” he says, groggily sitting up. That’s what he had for breakfast; lasagna!
“Your hair is lasagna?” the man asks, sounding annoyed yet amused. “Is it long lasagna or short lasagna?”
“Long-ish?” Chanyeol groans, flopping back onto his pillow. It’s terrible to have to think of another person’s penis when he’s still so sleepy.
“Okay, well I’m going to pull it back from your face and kiss your skin, leaving bite marks on your neck and chest.”
Chanyeol sighs, vaguely enjoying this reversal. It’s so annoying having to always think up new scenarios for some of these perverted men. This guy is sort of okay.
“And then I’m going to-“
Chanyeol moves his head and accidentally disconnects the call. Figures, this is Chanyeol we’re talking about here. He sighs, scratches his exposed butt cheeks and goes back to sleep.
//
Mr. Oblivious
The doorbell rings at the same time a Britney Spears ring tone goes off. He laughs a little. His boss probably must have changed it last time he went to pick up his paycheck. His boss is a funny little dude, really hot and extremely talkative.
Chanyeol gets the door first, pays for his Chinese delivery food and then picks up the call.
“Whaddup?” he asks, not really feeling sexy or even in the mood to pretend to be sexy. He’s hungry and he hates being hungry. It’s the second thing he hates the most after poverty. Poverty just sucks.
“Uh hi? I don’t know what phone number this is. I have a lot of out-going calls from you?”
Chanyeol bites his lip. He’s never had to deal with crazy/jealous boyfriends before. “Uhm yeah? That’s odd. I don’t know who you are either,” he says, trying to act as cool as possible.
“What’s your name then?” the caller asks.
“Chanyeol,” Chanyeol says, without really thinking because when does he ever?
“Chanyeol? I don’t know any Chanyeol’s,” the dude says, sounding angrier and more confused by the minute. Chanyeol rather not be in this situation right now. He’d rather just eat his pizza in peace, and not have to deal with the guilt of this dude’s boyfriend calling him to jerk off.
“What’s your name?” Chanyeol asks, not helping himself one bit. What use will be for him to know the name of this poor dude?
“Zitao,” he says. “Are you sleeping with my boyfriend?”
Chanyeol almost chokes on his slice of pizza. How exactly does he explain this? “Uhm not exactly. We’ve never slept together. Technically.”
Zitao is scarily silent for a long time. Chanyeol wonders if Zitao owns some sort of device that tracks cell phones and he’s coming to kill Chanyeol. That would be bad, partly because Chanyeol quite likes living, and partly because he’d love to eat this entire pizza before his death and Zitao sounds like he’s a pretty fast guy.
“Are you a phone sex operator? You don’t seem like one,” Zitao says, sounding a little more calm.
“I am,” Chanyeol says. “Why don’t I seem like one?”
“Because you answered the phone by saying ‘Waddup’ and I don’t know of too many phone sex operators that do that,” Zitao says plainly. “Anyways, I need to go murder my boyfriend now, so go on with your business.”
Chanyeol is stupefied. “You’re not angry at me?” he asks.
“Why would I be? You gotta pay the bills, dude. My boyfriend, on the other hand, needs to get help for his weird sex addiction. Have a nice day!”
Chanyeol’s pizza is still warm by the time he hangs up.
//
Mr. High School
Chanyeol is taking a shower when a call comes in. He has a bit of shampoo still in his hair, but he reaches over to the toilet where he left his phone and answers the call anyway.
“Hello?” It’s on speaker. Chanyeol loves whoever invented speaker. “This is Chanyeol, how may I assist you?”
A giggle springs out from the other end, completely and unmistakably childish. Chanyeol freezes. He’d heard from his coworkers that sometimes kids would call in, trying to be funny, but he doesn’t need this to happen to him while he’s showering.
“Hey kid, I’m not in the mood to hear your whiny little panting. I’m pretty sure this is illegal,” Chanyeol dips his head under the shower and resurfaces to shout, “just hang up now and nobody gets hurts.”
The boy laughs again. “Shut up old man, I’m almost done, I just want to hear your husky voice.”
“Wait,” Chanyeol sticks his head out from behind the shower curtain. “How did you know I have a raspy voice?”
“It’s all anyone talks about on campus,” the boy pants. Chanyeol can hear him palming himself over his pants, mewls and whines coming from the back of his throat. “You’re quite the superstar!”
“What? Kids are calling me and I haven’t noticed? I’m going to fucking drown myself right now,” Chanyeol moans, slapping his forehead against the tile wall.
“Yeah dude, my friend called you last week and said you were a riot,” the boy huffs, still going at it even though their conversation is as sexy as a sloth. “We’ve all been dying to hear that hot voice of yours.”
A chorus of giggles erupts this time and Chanyeol legit considers not breathing and letting all the water from his shower head enter his lungs. How long has he been pandering to teenager’s wet dreams? When Katy Perry sang about teenage dreams, she made it sound a lot sexier than this. Then a thought hits Chanyeol. “Are you guys doing a circle jerk?”
The boy laughs, a little deeper this time but it doesn’t make Chanyeol any less grossed out or pedophiliac feeling. “Yeah, we all ditched study hall to call you. Are you in the shower? That’s even sexier!”
Chanyeol groans and turns his shower off. “I’m serious you guys, I don’t know who told you about me, but this is weird. Just go play some soccer or jerk off thinking about that Exo group. I gotta go.”
“Ughh the way he said Exo,” the guy moans. Another boy starts making some really annoying, high pitched noises as he says, “uhh I’m gonna come.”
Chanyeol hangs up before he pukes an entire week’s worth of hot pockets.
//
Mr. Sassy
Chanyeol is about to get into a cab when he gets a call. He usually leaves his work phone at home when he’s running errands, you know, to avoid awkward and unnecessary situations, but he must’ve kept it in his coat’s pocket from last night when he’d been playing cops and robbers with a caller. The guy had started “choking” him with his dick so, pathetically, Chanyeol had to pretend to choke himself. It was all really weird and gross, but the dude liked it so there’s no doubt Chanyeol is getting at least one good review out of the millions of complaints he currently has.
He tells the driver where he’s headed and picks up the call. “Hello, this is Chanyeol, how may I assist you?” he whispers, hoping to be as inconspicuous as possible. Sadly to no avail, because the driver just looks at him strangely.
“Hey, how many fingers do you have in your asshole?”
Chanyeol sighs. He hates when they don’t give him time to sink into the sexy sailor or sexy butler or sexy teacher they expect him to be. He looks at the driver out of the corner of his eye and whispers, “three?”
The caller laughs, smooth and even. “No you don’t bitch, cause I have my fingers inside of you.”
Chanyeol rolls his eyes at the attitude. He hates when callers have attitude, it gives him gas. “That’s right, I forgot. How silly of me.”
The caller laughs again. “So where are you? I hear cars and the radio. Are you fingering yourself in the back of a cab you naughty boy?”
Chanyeol cringes at the traffic the stupid driver settles himself into. Cab drivers are so petty. They know exactly which roads to take as to NOT get into traffic but they sit in traffic anyway just to collect more money. Chanyeol could scream because he’s slightly turned on and the last thing he needs is an old man with beady eyes scrutinizing his career choice. It’s not his fault he’s turned on though, dirty talk is his absolute weakness.
“I am in a cab actually,” Chanyeol tells the caller, looking out the window with a sad longing to be anywhere else but here.
“Naughty,” the caller says huskily, “what’s the driver doing?”
“Uhm…driving,” Chanyeol answers, coincidentally making eye contact with the driver and hoping to all hell the ground will swallow him up at this moment.
“So he isn’t watching you finger yourself? That’s disappointing. You must not have a lot going on then.”
Chanyeol frowns. He doesn’t appreciate this caller and his sass. “For your information, I’ve got a hell of a lot going on. Right, driver?”
The driver looks at him and mutters something in a language Chanyeol doesn’t understand. The caller on the other hand is laughing hysterically. “Oh you’re good. I think you might be my favorite phone sex operator.”
“You call often?” Chanyeol asks, now afraid of the driver because of the way he’s smiling at him. Oh god, he should probably get out of this cab.
“When I have time,” the caller says vaguely. “How long have you been doing this?”
“A few months,” Chanyeol tells him. He’s really considering making a speedy getaway because he just noticed the pair of fluffy handcuffs dangling from the mirror and that can obviously never be a good sign. Obviously.
“Well, I actually gotta go,” the caller says. “I’m supposed to be punching codes into a computer. I’ll call again tomorrow.”
Chanyeol has never heard those words before, and he’s surprised at how good he feels after hearing them. The good feeling quickly leaves when the driver starts muttering angry sounding Klingon at him, so Chanyeol gets the hell out of the cab and runs through traffic like his feet are on fire. He hears a few loud laughs but well, he shouldn’t be judged for wanting to stay alive.
//
Mr. Chocolate
The phone rings while Chanyeol is watching tv, then abruptly stops the second he has it in his hand. This happens several more times throughout the night, and each time it does, he feels closer to death. Maybe there’s a phone sex operator murderer on the loose that he hasn’t learned about because Chanyeol and news don’t mix well together. Or maybe the caller has bad reception. Maybe the caller is stranded on an island and is trying to call for help but found Chanyeol’s phone instead. That would be sad if someone wanted rescue but ended up with a phone sex service. Well, that wouldn’t be so sad if you asked the right person.
Finally, the phone rings enough for Chanyeol to pick up.
“Hello?”
“Hi, I was wondering how long I have to do this with you?” the caller asks.
“Uhm, you get an hour,” Chanyeol says.
“Great!” he pauses. “Take off your clothes.”
“Well that escalated quickly,” Chanyeol says, chuckling at his own humor. He’s so funny sometimes. “Too bad I’m already naked though.”
“Good, pour honey on yourself.”
Chanyeol walks into his kitchen and frowns. “I don’t think I have any honey. Would hot chocolate work?”
“Hot chocolate?” the caller laughs. “Do you want to burn yourself?”
“No I mean like the fancy kind. The one people dump cheese and shit in.”
The laugh from the caller is so nice, Chanyeol questions why he doesn’t date people and do this with them. It must be cute to role-play sometimes. Though at this point, he’s so sick of the perverted jerks he has to deal with, the nice ones probably just fool him too easily.
“You mean fondue?” the caller asks. “Do you have chocolate syrup? That could work too.”
Chanyeol takes out the chocolate syrup and licks a little off the cap. “I have the chocolate syrup; what should I do with it now?”
“Pour it over your chest,” the caller instructs, and for some stupid reason, Chanyeol does. “Then let me lick it off you.”
Chanyeol patiently waits for this imaginary licking to commence. He laughs a little, imagining how ticklish it must be to have someone actually liking syrup off his body. Then he groans when the syrup drips down his legs and all the way to his floor. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“Caller, can you hold on? I have syrup all over my dick,” Chanyeol says, messily swiping it off with a wet cloth.
“You actually poured it on yourself?” he asks, openly laughing at Chanyeol’s stupid.
“Yeah, I guess I’m a method actor of sorts,” Chanyeol explains, grabbing a handful of napkins and just pasting them to his sticky body. He goes into his bathroom and laughs at his reflection. “I look like a fucking bird.”
The caller laughs again. “This is definitely not what I expected. You’re cute, but I really have to deal with this boner so I’ll call you some other day. For a laugh.”
That should be Chanyeol’s life motto: Chanyeol, phone sex operator, but only good for a laugh.
//
Mr. WTF
The water is running and Chanyeol is about to have the most epic bubble bath when a call comes in. Chanyeol doesn’t usually do bubble baths, but when he does he likes for them to be uninterrupted.
“Hello?” he asks, a little grumpy but still aware he has to do his job.
“Hello? Who’s this?”
“You should know, you called me,” Chanyeol retaliates.
“I found this number on a napkin in my pocket,” the caller says. “I have no idea who you are. Did I meet you at a bar or something? Did you put your number here?”
“I know as much as you do,” Chanyeol says. “For reference, I’m a phone sex operator so maybe one of your friends was trying to tell you something.”
“Tell me something?” the caller asks. “Like what?”
“Like maybe you need to get laid? I don’t know, I didn’t put it in your pocket,” Chanyeol says. He sits on the edge of his tub and puts his hand in the water, waiting for it to get warm.
The caller doesn’t say anything for a moment and then, “maybe it was a mistake! Maybe I put the napkin in my pocket without noticing the number!”
“Do you make it a habit to pick up random napkins?” Chanyeol asks.
“No.”
“Then I don’t think you picked it up. When is the last time you had sex?”
“Uhm I don’t feel comfortable telling you that,” the caller says.
“Oh come on, I work for a phone sex service. Sex is my thing.” It really isn’t, but Chanyeol decides to kid himself for a night.
“Well, you’re right. Uhm, I guess since my last relationship, so about 2 months.”
“2 months? Dude, you have to get back on that horse. I mean that literally, but exchange horse for some random hot dude and you’re in. Go ride some random hot dude’s dick right now.”
“I think I will!” the caller says enthusiastically. Almost as enthusiastic as Chanyeol’s mom when he finally moved out of the house. Almost. “Thanks for the advice!”
“Any time,” Chanyeol says and hangs up. He jumps into his bubble bath feeling like a better person than a few minutes ago.
//
Mr. Cutie
Chanyeol sits on his friend’s balcony, having a beer and generally enjoying life, when he gets a call. He’s in such a good mood that he’s smiling when he says, “Hello!” sounding dumb and a lot less sexual than usual.
“Hey, I’m Minseok and I don’t really know how these things go but my friend told me to call you. I hope I wasn’t bothering you.”
Chanyeol sighs happily. He hasn’t been this content since the time he got high in college. “I’m Chanyeol and I wasn’t doing anything important.”
“Okay, so, uh, how do we do this?”
Chanyeol smiles. “You ask me how I’m dressed, I tell you. You tell me to finger myself or dump some weird substance on my body, and I probably will even though you can’t see me. We go on for a few minutes until you hang up cause I annoy you and then you send in a complaint to my boss but I somehow keep my job. And then it all happens again with some other dude later.”
Minseok sighs. “I wouldn’t send in a complaint. I’m actually not even sure if I want to do this. I’m not even sure I like guys. My friend thinks I’m bi but I don’t really know, you know? Why is society so obsessed with labeling people? We’re not canned food.”
Chanyeol nods even though Minseok can’t see him. His friend is inside making some amazing spinach dip and he likes having conversations with strangers. Maybe he should make up his own service where people call cause they just want to chat. That would be nice. “I know what you mean,” Chanyeol says, “but some people feel safe with labels. It makes everything less confusing and they can identify with other people like them.”
“I guess,” Minseok says. “I just feel more confused though. Can’t I just like who I like?”
“Course dude,” Chanyeol tells him. “You can do whatever the fuck you want.”
“Thanks man, you’re pretty cool,” Minseok says, like Chanyeol just gave him liberty to think for himself.
“Thanks, you too. Good luck with you’re future endeavors! I’m going to enjoy some really tasty dip!” Chanyeol says and hangs up to go eat his friend’s delicious dip and his friend’s delicious dick too.
//
Mr. Popular
Chanyeol is in the middle of rocking out to his favorite album when he gets a call. He dances his way to his phone and punches the call button so hard he scratches the screen.
“Yello,” Chanyeol says, out of breath from all the dancing. “What can I do for your dick?”
“You sound out of breath? Did you start without me?” the caller asks.
“I was dancing,” Chanyeol says, lowering the music a little bit.
“You dance?”
“Badly,” Chanyeol admits, flailing his arms above his head. “I like it though.”
“That’s nice that you enjoy it, but you’ll probably enjoy my dick inside you more,” the caller says.
“Doubt it,” Chanyeol downs a gulp of some piss flavored energy drink his boss left in his fridge last night. “I like dancing more than having an imaginary dick in my ass.”
The caller chuckles. “I’m sure if I actually had my dick in your ass, you’d like it more than dancing.”
“You sound cocky, and I should know because I’m pretty cocky myself,” Chanyeol says.
“Maybe I am cocky, but I just know people love my dick.”
Chanyeol scoffs, knocking into his couch in his spastic dancing routine. “That sounds big headed and like you have a tiny dick.”
“For your information, I have a huge dick.”
“If it’s so huge, why don’t you put it inside someone’s actual body instead of having phone sex?” Chanyeol asks. Sometimes he makes such smart questions.
“Because my friends at school said you were better than porn,” the caller says.
“School?” Something clicks in Chanyeol’s head. “Wait? Are you in high school?How old are you? I’m not a pedophile.”
“Calm down, dude, I’m 18,” he says. “Besides, I’m not even jacking off, I just wanted to know what all the fuss was about.”
“I myself don’t even understand the fuss,” Chanyeol admits. “Your little friends all called me one day when they were doing a circle jerk.”
“Yeah, they’re weird like that,” the caller says. “Okay, so you have a deep voice, do you come with any other neat features?”
Chanyeol is in too good a mood to deal with this punk, so he tells him. “Look, punk, I’m in too good a mood to deal with you.”
Then he hangs up, and he’s not surprised when he gets called in to his bosses office the next day, which brings us to our final caller.
//
Mr. Boss Man
Chanyeol was just waking up when he receives a call on his personal phone. He doesn’t even exactly know why he has a personal cell phone, because he doesn’t use it that much. He thought he’d need it for personal dates but since getting this lucrative job, he hasn’t had much time for dates. The only person who calls him is his boss, which is pretty ironic.
“Hey Chanyeol, I need you to come in today,” says his boss, Baekhyun, all crisp and proper. He’s such a morning person. Chanyeol doesn’t 100% understand the concept of morning and person being in the same sentence.
“Sure thing boss, did I get another complaint?” Chanyeol asks, already knowing the answer. Yes!
“No, actually, Chanyeol I was thinking of promoting you,” Baekhyun says.
“No way, that’s so insanely cool. Wait, how am I getting promoted? I suck.”
“You don’t suck,” Baekhyun appeases, always too nice to Chanyeol. “You just need some fine tuning,” he clears his throat. “I know! How about you practice what you do with callers with me?”
“What? Really?” Chanyeol can’t help but think this seems a little strange. It would be weird to play out sexual fantasies on the phone with his boss. His really hot, mouthy boss.
“Yeah,” Baekhyun says easily. “Why not? I think if you did it with someone you’re comfortable with, you can later apply the situation to strangers.”
Chanyeol gulps. Having to be sexy to his sexy boss is way more intimidating than it should be. Chanyeol shouldn’t even find Baekhyun sexy, but he does. He’s not really sexy per se, he’s as cute as a button and his height makes him a wonderful hugging companion for Chanyeol. However, the pictures he posts on his Facebook are way more than cute. Lounging by the pool, a bottle of beer in his incredible hand, smirk in place. Barbecuing with friends, shopping, eating chicken. Somehow, he makes everything look both cute and sexy. Chanyeol isn’t ashamed to say he stalks his boss’s Facebook page because his boss is really hot.
“Chanyeol, are you still there?” Baekhyun asks.
“Yes, sorry boss, so how should we start?”
“You’re doing well by calling me boss. A lot of men call in because they want to feel powerful without having to get their hands dirty. They’re lazy or probably young and shy. Work with that. Give them what they want through subtle encouragement,” Baekhyun says, sounding like the phone sex operator of the month for every consecutive month in the year.
“Okay, wow, how are you so good at this?” Chanyeol asks.
“I used to be a phone sex operator until I decided to open my own service,” Baekhyun tells him. “I really enjoyed doing it. It was exciting, I could be anyone I wanted.”
“I don’t see why you’d want to be anyone but yourself, you’re pretty awesome, dude, I mean boss,” Chanyeol slaps his palm over his forehead. His mouth doesn’t always wait for his brain to decide what to say.
Thankfully, Baekhyun laughs, easing Chanyeol’s nerves as he walks into his kitchen. He’s really hungry, so he starts making a sandwich while having phone sex with his boss. When time’s are weird, one has to keep the routine going.
“You’re sweet, Chanyeol, but concentrate on the task at hand. Literally. If you’re also trying to get yourself off, it makes the situation less stale.”
Chanyeol chews on a slice of ham while he waits for his bread to toast. “But do I like jerk off with each caller? I get distracted easily, I don’t know how I could keep up my erection.”
“No, Chanyeol, you don’t have to jerk off with every caller, just the one’s that need the extra push. If you’re going at it too, then they’ll be more into it. Let’s practice. Tell me, how you’re dressed.”
Chanyeol thinks of something sexy to say. Actually thinks about it and doesn’t just spew out the truth which is that he’s in the same oversized jersey he’s been wearing all week. “Red boxer briefs.”
“Tight fitting?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” Baekhyun says, humming in appreciation. “So Chanyeol, as my employee, you know it’s your job to do as I say, right?”
“Yes,” Chanyeol says, getting tingles at Baekhyun’s voice over the phone. He imagines Baekhyun sitting at his desk, stroking his dick to hardness. Chanyeol may just like that thought more than a hot pocket. Holy shit!
“Well, I want you to take your dick out and start stroking it, can you do that for me?”
Chanyeol gulps. He never knew Baekhyun had such a dirty mouth. A loud mouth, sure, but a dirty one, no way. He fumbles with the bottom of his jersey and awkwardly starts to touch himself. It’s weird that he’s never thought of doing this before. It’s weird that Chanyeol is even in this situation to begin with.
“This feels kinda nice,” Chanyeol admits, stroking slowly with one hand while buttering his toast with the other.
“Good, that’s what’s important. It’s not all about the caller, you have to feel good too,” Baekhyun says, voice a little strained and the thought of him stroking off at the same time makes Chanyeol’s stomach dance.
“Well I do,” Chanyeol sighs, gripping the counter momentarily. He shouldn’t be doing this standing up. “Hey, boss, why did you hire me anyway?”
Baekhyun clears his throat and then laughs. “I hired you because you seemed like you had potential, and if I’m being frank, I thought you were really hot.”
“Really?” Chanyeol smiles like a doofus. “You’re pretty hot yourself, boss.” It’s nice to know the person you think is hot thinks you’re hot too.
“Are you still stroking yourself?” Baekhyun asks, voice heavy.
“Yeah, it’s weird cause I kinda wish I could just fuck you instead. Why are we still on the phone? I mean, unless you don’t want to fuck me which in that case this is just awkward and I should probably hang up cause-“
“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun interrupts. “You know how people say I talk a lot?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up and get over here. I’m waiting in my office. Don’t take for fucking ever,” Baekhyun warns and Chanyeol hangs up and runs to go fuck his boss.
Chanyeol/EXO
NC-17
Humor
Chanyeol is a phone sex operator of questionable ability.
A/N: this is a prompt fill for anon on exopromptmeme. I hope you enjoy!
When Chanyeol was growing up as an awkward, chubby, ferret loving kid, he never imagined himself seductively getting men off through the phone during their lunch breaks. Good, because a 12 year old with that as a career path has serious problems. Chanyeol has a serious problem though, and that’s his job. He read an ad in the newspaper about a lucrative call service for males. He thought it meant they were hiring males, not that he would be helping Mr. Heavy Breather take care of his erection while his wife is downstairs making dinner. In all fairness, it’s not the worst job in the world. He gets to sit on his ass in his apartment, reading manga or playing video games, while eating pizza and lazily getting Mr. High Pitched Moaner to come. He doesn’t have to dress up. He doesn’t have to interact with annoying coworkers. It’s a pretty easy job, and also rather interesting.
So that’s why, after a few weeks of working as a phone sex operator, he decided to document the more interesting callers. Here are his favorites:
Mr. Lame = Suho
Mr. Whiny = Luhan
Mr. Serious Business = Kris
Mr. Oblivious = Tao
Mr. High School = Sehun
Mr. Sassy = Chen
Mr. Chocolate Boy = D.O.
Mr. Life Advice = Lay
Mr. Cutie = Xiumin
Mr. Popular = Kai
Mr. Boss Man = Baekhyun
//
Mr. Lame
One afternoon, Chanyeol is beating his own high score on Surgeon Simulator, performing brain surgery on some half-dead dude, when he gets a call. It’s his work phone, so he pauses the game and bounces up to answer it.
“Hello, this Chanyeol, how can I help you?” he says, using his best sexy tone. It’s not that hard, what with his grizzly bear voice. Chanyeol knows his voice is 100% why they hired him. He had no previous job experience and he almost drenched the boss in his own coffee during the interview. so it was either his voice, or they were incredibly desperate. Chances are it was both.
“Uhm hi,” the man says, sounding shy. “Uhm I’m-“
“I don’t need to know your name, sir,” Chanyeol says, flopping back down in his bean bag chair. “I just need to know what you like.”
“Uhm, like?”
Chanyeol turns the game back on. “Yes like,” he drawls. “What do you want me to do to you?”
“Uhm Uhm Uhm.”
Chanyeol rolls his eyes. If the dude keeps stuttering like this, the hour is going to go by without Chanyeol even doing anything. Well, now that he thinks about it, that wouldn’t be such a tragedy. He removes the patient’s ribs in the game while he waits for the man to start telling him his sexual desires.
“I don’t know what to say. I’ve never done this before.”
Chanyeol pops a handful of nuts into his mouth and chews loudly.
“Are you eating?” the customer asks, sounding so incredibly annoyed, like he’s about to put his hand through the phone and choke him. “Are you supposed to be eating?”
“I don’t know,” Chanyeol shrugs, even though the man can’t see him. Then he lowers his voice again. “Do you want me to be eating?”
There’s silence on the other end. Then the man clears his throat. “Uhm, well no. I’d like it if you just…how are you dressed?”
Chanyeol pauses the video and looks down at his “uniform”. Most days he’s naked, which often helps to get in the mood with customers, but today he threw on his favorite hoodie with barbecue sauce stains all over it. He wonders whether he should say that to the guy or not. His mom always taught him honesty was the best policy.
“I’m in a dirty hoodie,” Chanyeol says, but when the man says “huh”, he rushes to fix it, “I mean sexy. A dirty, sexy hoodie.”
“O-Kay,” the man says slowly. “What were you doing before I called?”
Chanyeol finds this pretty weird. What does this dude expect him to say? Sure, he’s a phone sex operator but it’s not like he spends 24 hours of the day jacking off. Like, is that what he’s supposed to do? That would be awesome, but he sadly doesn’t have the energy to keep a boner up for 24 hours.
“I was just…you know, doing stuff.”
The man takes in a breath, probably considering jacking off to Dora. It would no doubt be more effective than whatever Chanyeol is attempting to do.
“What kind of stuff?” the caller asks.
“Oh, just…you know, sexy…stuff?”
The man hangs up.
//
Mr. Whiny
Chanyeol is heating up a hot pocket when he gets a work call. His phone is on the counter because he had just finished up with a caller who had a food fetish. It made Chanyeol so hungry that he had to hang up and heat up something from his fridge. Seeing as half the contents of said fridge are passed their expiration date, the only options were between a hot pocket and a pop-tart. Chanyeol still doesn’t know why he keeps his pop-tarts in the fridge.
“Hello, Sexy Sex Phone Boner Delivery Service, how may I help you?” Chanyeol thinks he’s clever. The caller, however, does not.
“What the fuck?” the guy says. “Is this even the right number?”
“Are you calling for phone sex?” Chanyeol asks dully, watching the hot pocket turn beautifully in the microwave. Chanyeol never noticed before how dazzling hot pockets truly are.
“Ye-yeah,” there’s a pause, “Can I get someone else?”
“What? Why?” Chanyeol says indignantly. “I’m a great phone sex operator!”
“Oh yeah, prove it?” the man says. “If you can get me off in the next ten minutes, I’ll call again every day for a week!”
One does not simply challenge Chanyeol. “Oh alright, so do you like food play?”
“No.”
“Pet play?”
“Nope.”
“Water play? Blood play? Horse play?”
“You’re just saying random things and the word play afterward,” the man sighs. “You’re terrible at this. If I call this number again will I get you every time?”
“Probably,” Chanyeol says, taking his hot pocket and blowing on it with great delight. Maybe he’d be better at his job if he imagined each strange caller’s dick in the shape of a hot pocket.
“I’m going to send in a complaint to your supervisor,” the man threatens.
Chanyeol scoffs. “Oh, well you wouldn’t be the first person to do that so go right ahead. Fifteen complaints later, and I’m still at it. No one can get me out of this lucrative job!”
The caller hangs up.
//
Mr. Serious Business
Before Chanyeol even has a chance to say hello, the caller is already explaining how everything is going to go down.
“I want you to tie your hands behind your back and spread your legs wide. You’re gonna wait like that for me until I decide to start pounding into you. I’m going to grab- do you have long hair?”
Chanyeol gulps. He was in the middle of an afternoon nap when this dude called so he’s a little disoriented. He doesn’t know if he’s in a position to be sexy and seductive. He can’t even remember what he had for breakfast this morning. “Lasagna,” he says, groggily sitting up. That’s what he had for breakfast; lasagna!
“Your hair is lasagna?” the man asks, sounding annoyed yet amused. “Is it long lasagna or short lasagna?”
“Long-ish?” Chanyeol groans, flopping back onto his pillow. It’s terrible to have to think of another person’s penis when he’s still so sleepy.
“Okay, well I’m going to pull it back from your face and kiss your skin, leaving bite marks on your neck and chest.”
Chanyeol sighs, vaguely enjoying this reversal. It’s so annoying having to always think up new scenarios for some of these perverted men. This guy is sort of okay.
“And then I’m going to-“
Chanyeol moves his head and accidentally disconnects the call. Figures, this is Chanyeol we’re talking about here. He sighs, scratches his exposed butt cheeks and goes back to sleep.
//
Mr. Oblivious
The doorbell rings at the same time a Britney Spears ring tone goes off. He laughs a little. His boss probably must have changed it last time he went to pick up his paycheck. His boss is a funny little dude, really hot and extremely talkative.
Chanyeol gets the door first, pays for his Chinese delivery food and then picks up the call.
“Whaddup?” he asks, not really feeling sexy or even in the mood to pretend to be sexy. He’s hungry and he hates being hungry. It’s the second thing he hates the most after poverty. Poverty just sucks.
“Uh hi? I don’t know what phone number this is. I have a lot of out-going calls from you?”
Chanyeol bites his lip. He’s never had to deal with crazy/jealous boyfriends before. “Uhm yeah? That’s odd. I don’t know who you are either,” he says, trying to act as cool as possible.
“What’s your name then?” the caller asks.
“Chanyeol,” Chanyeol says, without really thinking because when does he ever?
“Chanyeol? I don’t know any Chanyeol’s,” the dude says, sounding angrier and more confused by the minute. Chanyeol rather not be in this situation right now. He’d rather just eat his pizza in peace, and not have to deal with the guilt of this dude’s boyfriend calling him to jerk off.
“What’s your name?” Chanyeol asks, not helping himself one bit. What use will be for him to know the name of this poor dude?
“Zitao,” he says. “Are you sleeping with my boyfriend?”
Chanyeol almost chokes on his slice of pizza. How exactly does he explain this? “Uhm not exactly. We’ve never slept together. Technically.”
Zitao is scarily silent for a long time. Chanyeol wonders if Zitao owns some sort of device that tracks cell phones and he’s coming to kill Chanyeol. That would be bad, partly because Chanyeol quite likes living, and partly because he’d love to eat this entire pizza before his death and Zitao sounds like he’s a pretty fast guy.
“Are you a phone sex operator? You don’t seem like one,” Zitao says, sounding a little more calm.
“I am,” Chanyeol says. “Why don’t I seem like one?”
“Because you answered the phone by saying ‘Waddup’ and I don’t know of too many phone sex operators that do that,” Zitao says plainly. “Anyways, I need to go murder my boyfriend now, so go on with your business.”
Chanyeol is stupefied. “You’re not angry at me?” he asks.
“Why would I be? You gotta pay the bills, dude. My boyfriend, on the other hand, needs to get help for his weird sex addiction. Have a nice day!”
Chanyeol’s pizza is still warm by the time he hangs up.
//
Mr. High School
Chanyeol is taking a shower when a call comes in. He has a bit of shampoo still in his hair, but he reaches over to the toilet where he left his phone and answers the call anyway.
“Hello?” It’s on speaker. Chanyeol loves whoever invented speaker. “This is Chanyeol, how may I assist you?”
A giggle springs out from the other end, completely and unmistakably childish. Chanyeol freezes. He’d heard from his coworkers that sometimes kids would call in, trying to be funny, but he doesn’t need this to happen to him while he’s showering.
“Hey kid, I’m not in the mood to hear your whiny little panting. I’m pretty sure this is illegal,” Chanyeol dips his head under the shower and resurfaces to shout, “just hang up now and nobody gets hurts.”
The boy laughs again. “Shut up old man, I’m almost done, I just want to hear your husky voice.”
“Wait,” Chanyeol sticks his head out from behind the shower curtain. “How did you know I have a raspy voice?”
“It’s all anyone talks about on campus,” the boy pants. Chanyeol can hear him palming himself over his pants, mewls and whines coming from the back of his throat. “You’re quite the superstar!”
“What? Kids are calling me and I haven’t noticed? I’m going to fucking drown myself right now,” Chanyeol moans, slapping his forehead against the tile wall.
“Yeah dude, my friend called you last week and said you were a riot,” the boy huffs, still going at it even though their conversation is as sexy as a sloth. “We’ve all been dying to hear that hot voice of yours.”
A chorus of giggles erupts this time and Chanyeol legit considers not breathing and letting all the water from his shower head enter his lungs. How long has he been pandering to teenager’s wet dreams? When Katy Perry sang about teenage dreams, she made it sound a lot sexier than this. Then a thought hits Chanyeol. “Are you guys doing a circle jerk?”
The boy laughs, a little deeper this time but it doesn’t make Chanyeol any less grossed out or pedophiliac feeling. “Yeah, we all ditched study hall to call you. Are you in the shower? That’s even sexier!”
Chanyeol groans and turns his shower off. “I’m serious you guys, I don’t know who told you about me, but this is weird. Just go play some soccer or jerk off thinking about that Exo group. I gotta go.”
“Ughh the way he said Exo,” the guy moans. Another boy starts making some really annoying, high pitched noises as he says, “uhh I’m gonna come.”
Chanyeol hangs up before he pukes an entire week’s worth of hot pockets.
//
Mr. Sassy
Chanyeol is about to get into a cab when he gets a call. He usually leaves his work phone at home when he’s running errands, you know, to avoid awkward and unnecessary situations, but he must’ve kept it in his coat’s pocket from last night when he’d been playing cops and robbers with a caller. The guy had started “choking” him with his dick so, pathetically, Chanyeol had to pretend to choke himself. It was all really weird and gross, but the dude liked it so there’s no doubt Chanyeol is getting at least one good review out of the millions of complaints he currently has.
He tells the driver where he’s headed and picks up the call. “Hello, this is Chanyeol, how may I assist you?” he whispers, hoping to be as inconspicuous as possible. Sadly to no avail, because the driver just looks at him strangely.
“Hey, how many fingers do you have in your asshole?”
Chanyeol sighs. He hates when they don’t give him time to sink into the sexy sailor or sexy butler or sexy teacher they expect him to be. He looks at the driver out of the corner of his eye and whispers, “three?”
The caller laughs, smooth and even. “No you don’t bitch, cause I have my fingers inside of you.”
Chanyeol rolls his eyes at the attitude. He hates when callers have attitude, it gives him gas. “That’s right, I forgot. How silly of me.”
The caller laughs again. “So where are you? I hear cars and the radio. Are you fingering yourself in the back of a cab you naughty boy?”
Chanyeol cringes at the traffic the stupid driver settles himself into. Cab drivers are so petty. They know exactly which roads to take as to NOT get into traffic but they sit in traffic anyway just to collect more money. Chanyeol could scream because he’s slightly turned on and the last thing he needs is an old man with beady eyes scrutinizing his career choice. It’s not his fault he’s turned on though, dirty talk is his absolute weakness.
“I am in a cab actually,” Chanyeol tells the caller, looking out the window with a sad longing to be anywhere else but here.
“Naughty,” the caller says huskily, “what’s the driver doing?”
“Uhm…driving,” Chanyeol answers, coincidentally making eye contact with the driver and hoping to all hell the ground will swallow him up at this moment.
“So he isn’t watching you finger yourself? That’s disappointing. You must not have a lot going on then.”
Chanyeol frowns. He doesn’t appreciate this caller and his sass. “For your information, I’ve got a hell of a lot going on. Right, driver?”
The driver looks at him and mutters something in a language Chanyeol doesn’t understand. The caller on the other hand is laughing hysterically. “Oh you’re good. I think you might be my favorite phone sex operator.”
“You call often?” Chanyeol asks, now afraid of the driver because of the way he’s smiling at him. Oh god, he should probably get out of this cab.
“When I have time,” the caller says vaguely. “How long have you been doing this?”
“A few months,” Chanyeol tells him. He’s really considering making a speedy getaway because he just noticed the pair of fluffy handcuffs dangling from the mirror and that can obviously never be a good sign. Obviously.
“Well, I actually gotta go,” the caller says. “I’m supposed to be punching codes into a computer. I’ll call again tomorrow.”
Chanyeol has never heard those words before, and he’s surprised at how good he feels after hearing them. The good feeling quickly leaves when the driver starts muttering angry sounding Klingon at him, so Chanyeol gets the hell out of the cab and runs through traffic like his feet are on fire. He hears a few loud laughs but well, he shouldn’t be judged for wanting to stay alive.
//
Mr. Chocolate
The phone rings while Chanyeol is watching tv, then abruptly stops the second he has it in his hand. This happens several more times throughout the night, and each time it does, he feels closer to death. Maybe there’s a phone sex operator murderer on the loose that he hasn’t learned about because Chanyeol and news don’t mix well together. Or maybe the caller has bad reception. Maybe the caller is stranded on an island and is trying to call for help but found Chanyeol’s phone instead. That would be sad if someone wanted rescue but ended up with a phone sex service. Well, that wouldn’t be so sad if you asked the right person.
Finally, the phone rings enough for Chanyeol to pick up.
“Hello?”
“Hi, I was wondering how long I have to do this with you?” the caller asks.
“Uhm, you get an hour,” Chanyeol says.
“Great!” he pauses. “Take off your clothes.”
“Well that escalated quickly,” Chanyeol says, chuckling at his own humor. He’s so funny sometimes. “Too bad I’m already naked though.”
“Good, pour honey on yourself.”
Chanyeol walks into his kitchen and frowns. “I don’t think I have any honey. Would hot chocolate work?”
“Hot chocolate?” the caller laughs. “Do you want to burn yourself?”
“No I mean like the fancy kind. The one people dump cheese and shit in.”
The laugh from the caller is so nice, Chanyeol questions why he doesn’t date people and do this with them. It must be cute to role-play sometimes. Though at this point, he’s so sick of the perverted jerks he has to deal with, the nice ones probably just fool him too easily.
“You mean fondue?” the caller asks. “Do you have chocolate syrup? That could work too.”
Chanyeol takes out the chocolate syrup and licks a little off the cap. “I have the chocolate syrup; what should I do with it now?”
“Pour it over your chest,” the caller instructs, and for some stupid reason, Chanyeol does. “Then let me lick it off you.”
Chanyeol patiently waits for this imaginary licking to commence. He laughs a little, imagining how ticklish it must be to have someone actually liking syrup off his body. Then he groans when the syrup drips down his legs and all the way to his floor. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“Caller, can you hold on? I have syrup all over my dick,” Chanyeol says, messily swiping it off with a wet cloth.
“You actually poured it on yourself?” he asks, openly laughing at Chanyeol’s stupid.
“Yeah, I guess I’m a method actor of sorts,” Chanyeol explains, grabbing a handful of napkins and just pasting them to his sticky body. He goes into his bathroom and laughs at his reflection. “I look like a fucking bird.”
The caller laughs again. “This is definitely not what I expected. You’re cute, but I really have to deal with this boner so I’ll call you some other day. For a laugh.”
That should be Chanyeol’s life motto: Chanyeol, phone sex operator, but only good for a laugh.
//
Mr. WTF
The water is running and Chanyeol is about to have the most epic bubble bath when a call comes in. Chanyeol doesn’t usually do bubble baths, but when he does he likes for them to be uninterrupted.
“Hello?” he asks, a little grumpy but still aware he has to do his job.
“Hello? Who’s this?”
“You should know, you called me,” Chanyeol retaliates.
“I found this number on a napkin in my pocket,” the caller says. “I have no idea who you are. Did I meet you at a bar or something? Did you put your number here?”
“I know as much as you do,” Chanyeol says. “For reference, I’m a phone sex operator so maybe one of your friends was trying to tell you something.”
“Tell me something?” the caller asks. “Like what?”
“Like maybe you need to get laid? I don’t know, I didn’t put it in your pocket,” Chanyeol says. He sits on the edge of his tub and puts his hand in the water, waiting for it to get warm.
The caller doesn’t say anything for a moment and then, “maybe it was a mistake! Maybe I put the napkin in my pocket without noticing the number!”
“Do you make it a habit to pick up random napkins?” Chanyeol asks.
“No.”
“Then I don’t think you picked it up. When is the last time you had sex?”
“Uhm I don’t feel comfortable telling you that,” the caller says.
“Oh come on, I work for a phone sex service. Sex is my thing.” It really isn’t, but Chanyeol decides to kid himself for a night.
“Well, you’re right. Uhm, I guess since my last relationship, so about 2 months.”
“2 months? Dude, you have to get back on that horse. I mean that literally, but exchange horse for some random hot dude and you’re in. Go ride some random hot dude’s dick right now.”
“I think I will!” the caller says enthusiastically. Almost as enthusiastic as Chanyeol’s mom when he finally moved out of the house. Almost. “Thanks for the advice!”
“Any time,” Chanyeol says and hangs up. He jumps into his bubble bath feeling like a better person than a few minutes ago.
//
Mr. Cutie
Chanyeol sits on his friend’s balcony, having a beer and generally enjoying life, when he gets a call. He’s in such a good mood that he’s smiling when he says, “Hello!” sounding dumb and a lot less sexual than usual.
“Hey, I’m Minseok and I don’t really know how these things go but my friend told me to call you. I hope I wasn’t bothering you.”
Chanyeol sighs happily. He hasn’t been this content since the time he got high in college. “I’m Chanyeol and I wasn’t doing anything important.”
“Okay, so, uh, how do we do this?”
Chanyeol smiles. “You ask me how I’m dressed, I tell you. You tell me to finger myself or dump some weird substance on my body, and I probably will even though you can’t see me. We go on for a few minutes until you hang up cause I annoy you and then you send in a complaint to my boss but I somehow keep my job. And then it all happens again with some other dude later.”
Minseok sighs. “I wouldn’t send in a complaint. I’m actually not even sure if I want to do this. I’m not even sure I like guys. My friend thinks I’m bi but I don’t really know, you know? Why is society so obsessed with labeling people? We’re not canned food.”
Chanyeol nods even though Minseok can’t see him. His friend is inside making some amazing spinach dip and he likes having conversations with strangers. Maybe he should make up his own service where people call cause they just want to chat. That would be nice. “I know what you mean,” Chanyeol says, “but some people feel safe with labels. It makes everything less confusing and they can identify with other people like them.”
“I guess,” Minseok says. “I just feel more confused though. Can’t I just like who I like?”
“Course dude,” Chanyeol tells him. “You can do whatever the fuck you want.”
“Thanks man, you’re pretty cool,” Minseok says, like Chanyeol just gave him liberty to think for himself.
“Thanks, you too. Good luck with you’re future endeavors! I’m going to enjoy some really tasty dip!” Chanyeol says and hangs up to go eat his friend’s delicious dip and his friend’s delicious dick too.
//
Mr. Popular
Chanyeol is in the middle of rocking out to his favorite album when he gets a call. He dances his way to his phone and punches the call button so hard he scratches the screen.
“Yello,” Chanyeol says, out of breath from all the dancing. “What can I do for your dick?”
“You sound out of breath? Did you start without me?” the caller asks.
“I was dancing,” Chanyeol says, lowering the music a little bit.
“You dance?”
“Badly,” Chanyeol admits, flailing his arms above his head. “I like it though.”
“That’s nice that you enjoy it, but you’ll probably enjoy my dick inside you more,” the caller says.
“Doubt it,” Chanyeol downs a gulp of some piss flavored energy drink his boss left in his fridge last night. “I like dancing more than having an imaginary dick in my ass.”
The caller chuckles. “I’m sure if I actually had my dick in your ass, you’d like it more than dancing.”
“You sound cocky, and I should know because I’m pretty cocky myself,” Chanyeol says.
“Maybe I am cocky, but I just know people love my dick.”
Chanyeol scoffs, knocking into his couch in his spastic dancing routine. “That sounds big headed and like you have a tiny dick.”
“For your information, I have a huge dick.”
“If it’s so huge, why don’t you put it inside someone’s actual body instead of having phone sex?” Chanyeol asks. Sometimes he makes such smart questions.
“Because my friends at school said you were better than porn,” the caller says.
“School?” Something clicks in Chanyeol’s head. “Wait? Are you in high school?How old are you? I’m not a pedophile.”
“Calm down, dude, I’m 18,” he says. “Besides, I’m not even jacking off, I just wanted to know what all the fuss was about.”
“I myself don’t even understand the fuss,” Chanyeol admits. “Your little friends all called me one day when they were doing a circle jerk.”
“Yeah, they’re weird like that,” the caller says. “Okay, so you have a deep voice, do you come with any other neat features?”
Chanyeol is in too good a mood to deal with this punk, so he tells him. “Look, punk, I’m in too good a mood to deal with you.”
Then he hangs up, and he’s not surprised when he gets called in to his bosses office the next day, which brings us to our final caller.
//
Mr. Boss Man
Chanyeol was just waking up when he receives a call on his personal phone. He doesn’t even exactly know why he has a personal cell phone, because he doesn’t use it that much. He thought he’d need it for personal dates but since getting this lucrative job, he hasn’t had much time for dates. The only person who calls him is his boss, which is pretty ironic.
“Hey Chanyeol, I need you to come in today,” says his boss, Baekhyun, all crisp and proper. He’s such a morning person. Chanyeol doesn’t 100% understand the concept of morning and person being in the same sentence.
“Sure thing boss, did I get another complaint?” Chanyeol asks, already knowing the answer. Yes!
“No, actually, Chanyeol I was thinking of promoting you,” Baekhyun says.
“No way, that’s so insanely cool. Wait, how am I getting promoted? I suck.”
“You don’t suck,” Baekhyun appeases, always too nice to Chanyeol. “You just need some fine tuning,” he clears his throat. “I know! How about you practice what you do with callers with me?”
“What? Really?” Chanyeol can’t help but think this seems a little strange. It would be weird to play out sexual fantasies on the phone with his boss. His really hot, mouthy boss.
“Yeah,” Baekhyun says easily. “Why not? I think if you did it with someone you’re comfortable with, you can later apply the situation to strangers.”
Chanyeol gulps. Having to be sexy to his sexy boss is way more intimidating than it should be. Chanyeol shouldn’t even find Baekhyun sexy, but he does. He’s not really sexy per se, he’s as cute as a button and his height makes him a wonderful hugging companion for Chanyeol. However, the pictures he posts on his Facebook are way more than cute. Lounging by the pool, a bottle of beer in his incredible hand, smirk in place. Barbecuing with friends, shopping, eating chicken. Somehow, he makes everything look both cute and sexy. Chanyeol isn’t ashamed to say he stalks his boss’s Facebook page because his boss is really hot.
“Chanyeol, are you still there?” Baekhyun asks.
“Yes, sorry boss, so how should we start?”
“You’re doing well by calling me boss. A lot of men call in because they want to feel powerful without having to get their hands dirty. They’re lazy or probably young and shy. Work with that. Give them what they want through subtle encouragement,” Baekhyun says, sounding like the phone sex operator of the month for every consecutive month in the year.
“Okay, wow, how are you so good at this?” Chanyeol asks.
“I used to be a phone sex operator until I decided to open my own service,” Baekhyun tells him. “I really enjoyed doing it. It was exciting, I could be anyone I wanted.”
“I don’t see why you’d want to be anyone but yourself, you’re pretty awesome, dude, I mean boss,” Chanyeol slaps his palm over his forehead. His mouth doesn’t always wait for his brain to decide what to say.
Thankfully, Baekhyun laughs, easing Chanyeol’s nerves as he walks into his kitchen. He’s really hungry, so he starts making a sandwich while having phone sex with his boss. When time’s are weird, one has to keep the routine going.
“You’re sweet, Chanyeol, but concentrate on the task at hand. Literally. If you’re also trying to get yourself off, it makes the situation less stale.”
Chanyeol chews on a slice of ham while he waits for his bread to toast. “But do I like jerk off with each caller? I get distracted easily, I don’t know how I could keep up my erection.”
“No, Chanyeol, you don’t have to jerk off with every caller, just the one’s that need the extra push. If you’re going at it too, then they’ll be more into it. Let’s practice. Tell me, how you’re dressed.”
Chanyeol thinks of something sexy to say. Actually thinks about it and doesn’t just spew out the truth which is that he’s in the same oversized jersey he’s been wearing all week. “Red boxer briefs.”
“Tight fitting?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” Baekhyun says, humming in appreciation. “So Chanyeol, as my employee, you know it’s your job to do as I say, right?”
“Yes,” Chanyeol says, getting tingles at Baekhyun’s voice over the phone. He imagines Baekhyun sitting at his desk, stroking his dick to hardness. Chanyeol may just like that thought more than a hot pocket. Holy shit!
“Well, I want you to take your dick out and start stroking it, can you do that for me?”
Chanyeol gulps. He never knew Baekhyun had such a dirty mouth. A loud mouth, sure, but a dirty one, no way. He fumbles with the bottom of his jersey and awkwardly starts to touch himself. It’s weird that he’s never thought of doing this before. It’s weird that Chanyeol is even in this situation to begin with.
“This feels kinda nice,” Chanyeol admits, stroking slowly with one hand while buttering his toast with the other.
“Good, that’s what’s important. It’s not all about the caller, you have to feel good too,” Baekhyun says, voice a little strained and the thought of him stroking off at the same time makes Chanyeol’s stomach dance.
“Well I do,” Chanyeol sighs, gripping the counter momentarily. He shouldn’t be doing this standing up. “Hey, boss, why did you hire me anyway?”
Baekhyun clears his throat and then laughs. “I hired you because you seemed like you had potential, and if I’m being frank, I thought you were really hot.”
“Really?” Chanyeol smiles like a doofus. “You’re pretty hot yourself, boss.” It’s nice to know the person you think is hot thinks you’re hot too.
“Are you still stroking yourself?” Baekhyun asks, voice heavy.
“Yeah, it’s weird cause I kinda wish I could just fuck you instead. Why are we still on the phone? I mean, unless you don’t want to fuck me which in that case this is just awkward and I should probably hang up cause-“
“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun interrupts. “You know how people say I talk a lot?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up and get over here. I’m waiting in my office. Don’t take for fucking ever,” Baekhyun warns and Chanyeol hangs up and runs to go fuck his boss.