post #29
TL;DR RULES
1. post anonymously unless linking to a fill posted somewhere else
2. use the subject line to indicate pairing (in alphabetical order using stage names i.e.baekhyun/chanyeol) prompt details go in the comment.
3. use necessary content warnings
4. do not embed on meme. link to images/videos. label nsfw content.
5. do not repost prompts ( Read more... )
1. post anonymously unless linking to a fill posted somewhere else
2. use the subject line to indicate pairing (in alphabetical order using stage names i.e.baekhyun/chanyeol) prompt details go in the comment.
3. use necessary content warnings
4. do not embed on meme. link to images/videos. label nsfw content.
5. do not repost prompts ( Read more... )
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Baekhyun thinks the red arm chair is the best thing about the dorm room he shares with Chanyeol. And it’s so cold outside right now his toes are getting numb in his sneakers. So it feels like a perfect idea to challenge Chanyeol to the race on their way from cafeteria. Whoever arrives first gets the red arm chair for the rest of the night, preferably with a hot cup of tea and regrettably with a text book in lap because the cold in the air screams exams season. For once Baekhyun has nothing to do with the way Chanyeol trips over his own two feet the moment Baekhyun starts running. He growls, and Baekhyun is laughing with mirth, but he never stops running, actually taking the stairs up to their floor by two in his glee.
When Chanyeol arrives, cheeks red more from frustration than from effort, Baekhyun is already in the chair, shedding out of his coat and lounging across the huge, padded glory, legs hanging off one of the arm rests, his head propped on the other. It’s his favorite position, and he sinks deeper with a sigh. He sticks his tongue out at Chanyeol.
“Close the door. You’re letting the cold in,” he says, and he laughs. I win, his eyes are saying. Chanyeol’s face does one of its weird things, like it can’t decide if it wants to pout, scrunch in displeasure or laugh before it settles on devious, and Baekhyun laughs harder.
“There’s no way you are getting my butt off this chair any time soon.” Baekhyun isn’t planning on moving now, not even to get his tea, let alone his books.
“I think I could find a way,” Chanyeol finally says, slowly unwrapping his scarf from around his neck, pulling off his hat and finally dropping his coat haphazardly in the direction of his desk chair. “But you just stay put for now. I like how you look like that desert you were too stingy to buy me tonight, sprawled like that.
Baekhyun can’t stop laughing.
“If you think you’re going to sweet talk me out of here with that, you are so wrong. Also you need to stop hanging out with Kris so much. You are starting to sound just as cheesy as him.”
The smile on Chanyeol’s face looks like he might consider that a compliment. He and his basketball captain worship. But then his eyes narrow, and he moves, quick and swift.
“To be honest, I don’t plan on talking much. For now,” he says as he drops to his knees, his hand covering Baekhyun’s own, and quickly moving up Baekyhun’s thighs.
“No way,” Baekhyun says, a little incredulous, and just a little turned on. “I have homework.”
Chanyeol just snorts at that, his fingers sliding against the skin of Baekyhun’s stomach and down to the zipper on his jeans. They are cold, and Baekhyun tries to swat them away.
“Such a good student, are you?” Chanyeol says, and Baekyhun tries to wriggle away from him as he starts pulling the jeans down.
“How is this supposed to get me off the chair?” Baekhyun grabs for Chanyeol’s hair, but it slips away from his still gloved fingers.
“I just need to get your ass of it, right?” Chanyeol smirks and yanks. Baekhyun yelps and makes one last feeble attempt at pushing Chanyeol away.
“Wow, I really believed you that one,” Chanyeol says, and his fingers hook underneath Baekhyun’s boxers.
Baekhyun hisses at the coldness. “Why didn’t you wear gloves again?” he wonders, trying to keep his calm as Chanyeol pulls the boxers down and spreads Baekhyun’s knees rather harshly, his eyes already trained on Baekhyun’s cock. He’s half hard and doesn’t understand how that happened, it’s not like he wants Chanyeol’s mouth on him or anything. Chanyeol scoots closer and between Baekhyun’s knees, and even when kneeling he still towers a little, that damn giant.
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“Fuck,” Baekhyun swears as Chanyeol licks a wide stripe from the base of his cock to the tip right away. He chuckles then, and Baekhyun digs his nails into the upholstery. Only his fingers slip again because of those stupid gloves he still has on. But then Chanyeol is practically nipping at the base again, slight hint of teeth and lots of lips and tongue and a bit of sucking where his balls stretch away from his cock, and Baekhyun can’t do anything at all just watch it happen and maybe try to breath. He’s completely hard in no time, and Chanyeol hums in approval before he is licking up the vein on the underside again, fingers flitting around Baekhyun’s hips, thighs and up to hold Baekyun’s cock so he can lick all round it.
Baekhyun’s hips twitch of his own, and that’s when Chanyeol finally looks up again, an eyebrow raised. Baekyhun is confused until Chanyeol’s tongue circles the crown, and his hips jerk again, the snap much sharper this time. Chanyeol smirks, and it clicks somewhere at the back of Baekhyun’s foggy mind.
“No way, fuck,” he hisses, as Chanyeol nips back down to the base. “This is your plan?” he manages to ask. “That doesn’t even count, I am still in the armchair,” Baekhyun says, air wheezing out of him.
“For now,” Chanyeol mumbles, eyes on him and hot breath against his cock. And then he wraps his long fingers around it and slides the entire length of it inside his mouth, until his lips meet his hand. Baekhyun squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to move.
Chanyeol is painfully slow, hollowing his cheeks and dragging his lips back up, ever so slowly, before kissing the tip and moving back down. He relaxes his throat and dips deeper this time, fingers completely gone, nose digging into the soft skin of Baekhyun’s underbelly and the tip of Baekhyun’s cock at the back of Chanyeol’s throat. Baekhyun will be driven mad like this, the drag up even slower. He’s trying desperately to stay still, to not give Chanyeol the satisfaction of moving up into the heat, to not seek the faster drag against his swollen cock. It’s maddening because this time Chanyeol actually wants him to do all that, and part of Baekhyun kind of wants to know how far he would let him go. The part that doesn’t care about losing this challenge. Next time Chanyeol’s mouth moves down, he hums a little and swallows.
Baekhyun’s moan is so high pitched, he thinks he just hit the highest note in his register. He is scrambling for something to hold, but everything is slipping away along with his sanity, as Chanyeol fumbles his balls with his fingers, then caresses his inner thighs and most of all stays still, save for another swallow around his cock and harsh breaths coming out of his nose against Baekhyun’s stomach.
“Fuck, fuck, you cheat,” Baekhyun gasps, hands covering his face burning with sweat and embarrassment. Chanyeol pulls back a little, sucking, and Baekyhun snaps, back and ass arching off the chair, thighs pressing firmer into the hand rest as Baekhyun uses them to push into Chanyeol’s mouth.
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Only then does Chanyeol finally grip his hips again, pushing them down and pulling his mouth off just a little. But then he’s sucking, his mouth still around Baekhyun’s cock as his orgasms slowly fades away. Finally Chanyeol gives Baekhyun’s hip a small pat, and his mouth slides off his cock with one loud pop.
“Hmmm,” he says, his voice terribly deep and wrecked, and he looks up at Baekhyun, eyes shining with bit of tears Baekhyun probably caused, but there’s mischief still there. He has a smudge of come in the left corner of his lips, but when he leans up, Baekhyun licks it off without a thought and lets Chanyeol kiss him, deep and long, until Chanyeol starts to mewl and then giggle against his mouth.
“Well, you wanted something hot, you said,” Chanyeol wheezes in between now loud peals of laughter, his whole body shaking between Baekhyun’s crammed thighs.
“You are so gross, I hate you, get up.” Baekhyun tries to push him way, but Chanyeol just slumps more against him.
“Technically you should be getting up,” Chanyeol says, rubbing Baekhyun’s thighs and easing them down and over the arm rest again.
Baekhyun pouts, and he knows his nose is scrunched up, but he doesn’t really care right now.
“Let me offer you a deal breaker. You shower with me now,” and Chanyeol wiggles his eyebrow-disgusting really-before he continues, “and then we can share the chair. We totally fit, and I’ll even make you some tea.”
Baekhyun doesn’t want to, but then Chanyeol mewls and as he shifts, Baekhyun can feel him shuddering. The last thing Baekhyun wants is him rubbing one off against his favorite armchair.
“Fine,” he says, and hopes he sounds at least half as put off as he wanted to. “Last one in the shower buys dinner for the whole week,” he challenges, thinking it might be a good excuse for him sprinting to it. Only he forgets he’ss still pinned in the chair, Chanyeol lounging on his stomach. Damn.
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