two can play
title: two can play
pairing: baekhyun/chanyeol
rating: nc17
length: 3.9k
warning ((highlight)): age gap
summary: it’s safe to say baekhyun is fucked (or at least, he hopes to be)
notes: sequel to this
“Cut it out.”
Baekhyun ignores Sehun, switching the pencil to his other hand when the younger tries to grab for it, before continuing his tapping on the edge of the desk.
“Leave me alone,” Baekhyun snaps, shooting Sehun a look before redirecting his attention to the front of the room. He slouches back in his chair as he impatiently waits for class to begin, and for a familiar pair of legs to walk into view.
“Don’t get cranky on me just because you haven’t gotten into Mr. Park’s pants yet,” Sehun rolls his eyes, and Yixing muffles his laughter.
Baekhyun sneers, finally dropping his pencil on his desk and tilting his head back to run a hand over his face in frustration (both sexual and otherwise). Today marks the seventh day since being Blue Balled, a status Baekhyun is none too happy with having, let alone for as long as seven freaking days. By this time, he thought he would have already done the deed with Mr. Park, completed the transaction, made his donation, etcetera.
He definitely did not think he would still be at square one at Getting Into His Substitute’s Pants, especially since he’s actually been going to classes. Well, more accurately, class. Not that his attendance has skyrocketed for any actual study and educational purposes.
All Baekhyun has got so far is a few knowing glances thrown his way from the substitute, which doesn't raise anything but his dick to full mast during the most inconvenient times, and his right hand is practically useless because even after jacking himself off in the bathroom stalls, Baekhyun Junior still springs back into action after a mere glimpse of the teacher. It doesn’t help that Mr. Park’s entire wardrobe consists of slacks that really, really accentuate his thighs and certainly highlight that he’s got some form of monster down there that can’t be constrained in his underwear.
(Baekhyun picks up on a lot of things when his vision is just Mr. Park twenty-four/seven.)
Such observations also include the fact that Mr. Park only wears his black, thick-rimmed frames at the beginning of the day (a very appropriate time for Baekhyun’s morning wood to make another sprightly welcomed entrance).
So despite attending class, with all the sexual frustration and sudden boners, Baekhyun can’t help but zone out at whatever Mr. Park is lecturing on about right now. His defining improvement resides in his quiet behaviour, because not only has he toned down his remarks in class, but Baekhyun has also taken the drastic measure of cutting out all that crap that usually gets him sent to detention (because some teachers just don’t appreciate an impressively timed penis joke in the midst of a lesson).
Baekhyun can surely say that he’s never made this much effort for anyone, especially because all it generally takes is a wiggle of his ass and flirtatious look to get someone to drop their pants for him. And as much as Baekhyun had hoped, Mr. Park was not buying this act, because the seductive gazes and winks hadn’t gotten him far at all. In fact, it barely got him to within a sixty-centimetre radius of the teacher.
The bell rings right as Mr. Park steps into the classroom, and Baekhyun automatically straightens in his seat, eyes trained on the teacher as he crosses the room. Baekhyun lets a slight disgruntled look slip onto his face when the desk blocks his view of the substitute’s thighs, but then Mr. Park’s voice is ringing in his ears and Baekhyun’s gaze immediately flickers up to his face to catch the rest of his sentence.
“… and you can hand in your essays to the front of the class.”
Baekhyun freezes, turning to Yixing with wide eyes. The elder just raises his eyebrows, pulling out his papers from between his notebook and waving them for extra effect. “Didn’t you remember to do it?”
Crap.
Baekhyun shakes his head frantically, looking the very image of In Deep Shit as he slumps further down into his seat. He feels Sehun pat him on the head as he goes to place his essay on Mr. Park’s desk, and Baekhyun flips his backside off, wondering if he can slink further down and blend into the furniture but-
“Mr. Byun, are you not going to hand your essay in?”
For once, Baekhyun wishes it wasn’t so easy for him to get attention. He shifts in his seat, clearing his throat to be heard over the mild shuffling and hushed whispers of oh, Baekhyun’s in trouble again.
“Um,” he begins, clasping his hands together and twiddling his thumbs, “… no?”
He presents his answer as more of a question, causing a ripple of quiet laughter to sound through the room, and he tries to look as apologetic as possible (it doesn’t come across well when he hears Good Ol’ Kim Jongin snicker from his seat and Baekhyun’s gaze shifts into something more akin to an eye roll of annoyance).
It’s really just his luck to forget something as important as their one thousand-word essay right as he’s trying to show Mr. Park that he is a Very Good Student (who most definitely deserves to be rewarded for such diligent behaviour).
“I see.” Mr. Park adjusts his glasses, and Baekhyun swallows. He’s expecting a little reprimand in front of class, or even detention or a sentence to the principal, but instead he’s met with…
Nothing.
Baekhyun furrows his brows, watching as Mr. Park just scoops the papers up and shuffles the stack to straighten them out.
“Why isn’t he saying anything?” Baekhyun whispers to Yixing, and the latter just shrugs.
“Maybe he’s letting you off this one time?” Yixing ventures, and Baekhyun looks to Sehun for advice, only to watch the younger sneakily power his Nintendo on under the desk, pressing the buttons repeatedly as he waits for his Pokémon game to start up.
Baekhyun pulls a face and turns back to the front, worrying at his lower lip because his mind is clouded with holyshitIfuckedup and oh my God I fucked up, and Mr. Park still hasn’t commented on his lack of an essay.
He snaps back to attention when Mr. Park claps his hands together to get everyone to quiet down.
“So, where did we leave off from last class?”
Baekhyun is baffled.
Mr. Park hadn’t said a word to him; literally not even a sound of some kind or syllable directed his way, throughout the whole of class. Baekhyun hadn't even been on the receiving end of any of his looks like usual, and it’s oddly unsettling (not in the, hey it’s Puberty knocking at your door trying to make you uncomfortable by giving you, yet again, another mid-class boner but more of a, it’s weird that my substitute isn’t making me squirm in my seat with his seductive onceovers).
He doesn’t know what to make of it, but the thought doesn’t shake from his mind throughout the whole of class until the bell rings and they’re dismissed. Baekhyun stays firmly seated, only getting up once Sehun lightly whacks him on the back to get him moving for their next class. He shoves his stuff into his backpack, sighing once he realizes that Mr. Park really has no intention of acknowledging Baekhyun, even if it’s just a glance.
He hasn’t tried anything like last time at all during the week, keeping up his façade of Grade A Student by coming and leaving class in an orderly, no-time-for-dilly-dallying way. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and this Zero Eye Contact Thing doesn’t sit well with Baekhyun. He’s thinking of how to plan his walk to the front, because Mr. Park will surely be surprised that Baekhyun’s finally making the move of talking to him. He’s considering just some “accidental” eye contact to surely and smoothly bring about a conversation.
But lo and behold, it is just Baekhyun’s luck that Kim Fucking Jongin is already at the substitute’s desk, inquiring over some asinine matter that Baekhyun couldn’t care less to eavesdrop on.
He figures he can wait for a few more seconds whilst Mr. Park pretends to listen to whatever Kim Jongin is whining about, before Baekhyun’s rolling his eyes and shoving the nerd aside in the middle of his sentence, ignoring his whiny-ass protest as he puts on his most innocent-looking smile and flutters his eyelashes.
“Hi, Mr. Park,” he puts one hand on his desk and bends over slightly.
“Yes, Baekhyun?” Mr. Park says, face impassive. No slight flinch or flit of surprise. Nothing. It’s unbelievable just how composed he’s able to act around Baekhyun, when just a mere look from the teacher gets Baekhyun’s libido going in less than a second.
“I was wondering if you were, maybe, free after school?” Baekhyun says, putting on a shy façade for emphasis. Kim Jongin is still squeaking about how Baekhyun totally interrupted his Very Important Question about their fucking quiz, and Baekhyun rolls his head to the side to glare at him.
“Don’t you have another locker to be squished into?” Baekhyun snaps, and Kim Jongin, classy as he is, sticks his tongue out at him, before adjusting his suspenders and storming past him. Baekhyun turns his attention back to the teacher, running his tongue over his lower lip when Mr. Park adjusts his glasses.
“Did you have something you wanted to discuss?” He asks with a straight face, obviously not phased by Baekhyun’s acts of flirtation.
“Yeah, I was just a little confused,” Baekhyun brings his index finger up to his bottom lip, posing all seductively, “about the material we covered today.”
“Was it because you weren’t listening?” Mr. Park says bluntly, getting up from his seat to pull off his sweater. He’s teasing Baekhyun to no fucking end as his tighttighttight dress shirt comes into view, and the teenager’s mouth just goes dry. Mr. Park sits back down with a knowing gaze, a slight smirk on his lips as he starts to correct the pile of essays in front of him. “It’s nearly time for your next class, Mr. Byun.”
Baekhyun hears Yixing and Sehun snicker behind him and he lets out a deep sigh. Trust those two assholes to wait for him and watch his attempt at seducing his teacher go to shit. He makes a move to leave, shifting his backpack when Mr. Park’s voice draws his attention back.
“Oh, Baekhyun?”
There’s a short-lived moment of relief that flickers in his eyes when Baekhyun looks up, but instead, all he gets is the very straight-to-the-point reply of, “Please take Mr. Zhang and Mr. Oh on your way out,” causing his two friends to burst into laughter.
Fucking assholes, really.
It’s at the end of the day that Baekhyun figures it’s time for Attempt #2, because he really needs to clear the air with Mr. Park; this little forgetful act isn’t going to sit well on his nice, (one-week long) clean record. He knocks on the door, nerves tingling as he hears Mr. Park’s voice from inside.
Baekhyun turns the handle, peeking into the classroom to be met with the sight of the teacher leaning back in his chair, tie loosened and hair all mussed. He swallows, eyes travelling down the length of the substitute’s mile-long legs stretched out. He wills his semi down, adjusting his pants subtly as he steps further into the room, shutting the door behind him.
“Mr. Park?”
“Yes, Baekhyun?” He’s wearing his glasses again, pushing them up his nose before glancing up at the teenager walking towards him, “Did you need something?”
His tone is still curt and concise, obviously the previous mistake of today not left forgotten at all. Baekhyun’s confidence falters slightly; he was planning on walking in there, dropping down to his knees, and offering to suck his dick, and it’s a very later awareness that Baekhyun realizes that isn’t going to work.
“Aren’t you going to give me detention, or something?” is what Baekhyun ends up settling for, and he mentally kicks himself for just blurting it out.
“Detention?” It’s the first time Baekhyun sees a hint of confusion flicker in the teacher’s eyes. “Oh, oh, about your essay?”
Baekhyun heartedly nods, and Mr. Park lets out a little chuckle. “I don’t see a reason for needing something as strict as that.”
“What do you mean? Don’t you need to call my parents or send me to the principal’s for not doing my essay?”
It is not like Baekhyun enjoys chastisements, but his brain-to-mouth filter just switches into a dysfunctional mode whenever he’s around Mr. Park, and for something such as this, it only seems fit that he needs to be reprimanded.
“I don’t think forgetting to do one assignment is enough cause for two punishments, do you?”
Baekhyun’s eyebrows furrow, and his mouth opens and closes akin to a goldfish as he searches for words.
“Two…?”
Mr. Park sighs, removing his glasses and placing them on top of his laptop, “Well, giving you detention would be one,” he begins, rounding the corner of the table as Baekhyun spins to follow his movement. Mr. Park leans back against one of the student desks, his butt perched right on the edge as he lowers his voice to a deep whisper, “and taking back your present would be the second.”
Baekhyun’s eyes widen, and he splutters, face heating up considerably.
Mr. Park laughs again, “Surely you didn’t think I forgot?”
Definitely haven’t forgotten, is what Baekhyun thinks, especially not with all those seductive-as-fuck gazes Mr. Park felt inclined to throw his way every single day.
“Ah, and here I was thinking you were too dense to pick up on those.”
Baekhyun claps a hand over his mouth, not realizing he muttered the last part out loud as he sees Mr. Park unbutton the cuffs of his sleeves and roll them up slowly as he continues, “But since you asked, I guess it’s only right I punish you accordingly.”
Baekhyun remains quiet, too stunned by the sight of those godly veins in his forearm that he doesn’t notice Mr. Park moving, and the lock of the door is being flipped shut, until he hears the click.
“Now, Baekhyun,” Mr. Park says in that authoritative tone of his, “is there a reason for this unacceptable forgetfulness?”
Baekhyun can sense the slight sarcasm in his voice, only to be confirmed by the small smirk that the substitute is sporting, and he relaxes. Mr. Park isn't the only player at this game.
He clears his throat, rubbing his palm around the nape of his neck.
“Well, to be honest sir, I was too busy thinking about you fucking me over your desk.”
Mr. Park cocks an eyebrow, and it's only when Baekhyun licks over his lips does his gaze flicker down to his mouth and a tiny growl escapes from the back of the teacher’s throat. Baekhyun can practically see his resolve crumbling when he finds his back against the wall after being harshly shoved backwards, and Mr. Park is nipping at his neck.
There’s already a knee slotted in between his thighs and spreading them open, as Baekhyun feels his teacher lick over the expanse of his skin. He bites down on his lip to muffle a gasp as his hands come up to grip onto the substitute’s arms, extended and braced up against the wall.
“Mr. P-Park,” Baekhyun stutters out, because the teacher is moving his leg back and forth against Baekhyun’s crotch and the friction is turning his semi into a full erection amazingly quick.
The teacher pauses his tongue and teeth action on Baekhyun’s neck and looks up, eyes glazed over with something Baekhyun only recognizes as lust.
“Chanyeol.”
“What?”
“Call me Chanyeol.”
Baekhyun takes a deep breath, the name falling off his tongue in a soft whisper, “Chanyeol.”
He smiles, one that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners, and bends down again to suck at Baekhyun’s collarbone, his fingers deftly working on the belt looped around the younger’s waist. Baekhyun’s thinking of pinching himself, because this is happening. This is finally happening, and Baekhyun really doesn’t want to wake up and find out this is a dream. But then he feels Chanyeol’s teeth pinch at his skin, and he tilts his head back to allow the substitute more access to his neck.
“Your belt is fucking shit,” Chanyeol mutters, licking over the mark freshly made, and he laughs all low and rough. Baekhyun’s pants tighten even more at the sound.
“You’re not going to blue-ball me again, are you?” Baekhyun breathes, nails digging into the fabric of Chanyeol’s dress shirt as he starts to tug at it. Chanyeol’s already got a hand down his unbuttoned pants and briefs, pulling at Baekhyun’s dick with quick jerks, and the younger sharply inhales, heat coiling in the pit of his stomach.
He could probably pass out right now, and still be content with how things went. After all, it’s not everyday that his teacher’s hand is on his dick, stroking him up and down.
“No fucking way I’m stopping,” Chanyeol snarls, and it’s so hot the way his upper lip curls straight into a smirk, that Baekhyun brings his hands to the front of the substitute’s shirt, twisting his fists in the material. He feels Chanyeol’s own hardness press against his inner thigh, and Baekhyun starts to breathe faster.
“God, just kiss me already,” he all but growls out, and Chanyeol gladly bends down to crash their lips together, tipping Baekhyun’s chin up with an index finger.
It’s with a sigh of immense relief that Baekhyun opens his mouth more to let their tongues meet; it is exactly what he’s been needing, been craving, ever since he made that bet with Sehun a week ago. Chanyeol’s lips are firm on his own, and Baekhyun tilts his head more to let the teacher lick into his mouth. Everything is hot and messy, nowhere near one of those Perfect First Kisses, but that isn’t what either of them needs right now.
Baekhyun’s got a week of pent-up sexual frustration, and Chanyeol is fueled by the copious tension that lies between him and a sly teenage tease of the name Byun Baekhyun.
It’s not like Chanyeol to go for teenagers, in all honesty; Baekhyun is as far as he’s ever gone with a student, and as much as he would have liked to have kept his record clean of any internal school affairs, Byun Baekhyun is most definitely an exception worth making.
With those soft lips, that huge sex drive that Chanyeol can practically see dripping off of him, and round ass (he would be lying if he said he never looked and/or stared at the younger’s backside), it would have been with much regret if he never gave in to Baekhyun’s seduction attempts.
And right now, the teenager is pretty much dry humping him fully clothed, and as much as Chanyeol needs to get off, coming in his work slacks on a teenager he would rather have his dick stuffed in, isn’t the way he wants to feel his release.
He starts to pull at his tie, and is about remove it completely when Baekhyun’s hand is on his. It’s the look on his face that makes Chanyeol still, because the gaze is unreadable, and he isn’t sure if Baekhyun is having second thoughts, but then-
“Keep it on,” Baekhyun exhales, lips slick with spit as he tries to regain some breathing. “P-please… fuck me with it on.”
In the end, they don’t fuck over the desk.
Instead, Chanyeol’s got his slacks pooled around his ankles as his shirt stays unbuttoned and the tie is draped around his neck. Baekhyun is bouncing on his cock completely naked, save for his shirt that’s stopping the rough wallpaper from rubbing too harshly against his back.
Chanyeol has Baekhyun’s knees hooked over his shoulders as he bucks his hips up quicker into the younger, and moans wantonly spill out from the teenager’s mouth. They’re both bruised and marked, Chanyeol with claw marks down his back and arms, and Baekhyun with numerous hickeys decorated all across his neck and jaw.
“So good,” Chanyeol says, one hand momentarily brushing the hair off Baekhyun’s forehead, “such a good baby for me.”
Baekhyun clenches around Chanyeol’s cock, pulling himself in towards the teacher with the ends of the teacher’s tie wrapped around his hands, to mesh their lips together in an open-mouthed kiss.
“Daddy’s cock is-ah-so big.”
Chanyeol smirks. Baekhyun plays the role of obedient baby very well (his introduction sheet didn’t lie), and Chanyeol can’t help but fuck harder into his tight wet heat, the slide in so slick and hot. There are several things Baekhyun will lie about, but dick sizes and talent in bed are not among the many.
“Faster, daddy, please,” Baekhyun whimpers, and Chanyeol can only oblige as he spreads his cheeks further to get more of his dick in his ass.
It’s not long after when Baekhyun’s got a hand curled around his dick as he strokes himself to completion, the combined stimulation from Chanyeol’s long dick poking at his spot, that he comes in spurts all over his hand. He’s automatically back to cocky Byun Baekhyun, the confident and collected Byun Baekhyun he was before meeting Park Chanyeol, and he lifts his hand to lick at the white liquid.
Chanyeol mutters out a low, “Fuck,” and speeds up his thrusting only to reach his orgasm seconds later, the sight of Baekhyun sucking at his come too much to take, and releases into the condom.
Chanyeol lets Baekhyun down carefully, and the teenager is slightly shaky when his feet touch the ground, and he knows his ass is going to be the sorest it’s been in a while. It’s not like Baekhyun bottoms often, and no one plows into him as rough as that whenever he does.
They’re both sweaty and thoroughly fucked, their deep breathing filling the silence of the room. They don’t say anything as they clean up and get dressed, because this definitely is not one of these one-night stand situations where they can just bid each other farewell after a nice, satisfying screwing.
Primarily because Chanyeol is Baekhyun’s substitute teacher, and they’re going to see each other the next day in class. The second reason goes unsaid as well however, because despite how hot and heavy the sex was; they both can still feel the unresolved sexual tension between the two of them.
And it’s definitely not going to be doused after one hour of fucking.
Chanyeol’s voice breaks the stillness once they’re both dressed, for the most part (Baekhyun’s missing a shoe somewhere, and Chanyeol’s pants are still unbuttoned).
“Seeming as you got your reward after all, I’ll see here you tomorrow for your actual punishment.” His voice is surprisingly crisp for someone who just has his cock stuffed in a spectacularly tight ass, but the message welcomingly cuts through the silence.
A grin breaks across the younger’s face, and Chanyeol strides forward to capture his lips in another heated kiss.
“You’re really the worst student I’ve ever had, Byun Baekhyun,” he zips up his slacks.
It’s the first time Baekhyun has ever looked forward to detention.
//
unedited for now ;u; apology fic completed !! ((also sorry it sucks ;u;))
pairing: baekhyun/chanyeol
rating: nc17
length: 3.9k
warning ((highlight)): age gap
summary: it’s safe to say baekhyun is fucked (or at least, he hopes to be)
notes: sequel to this
“Cut it out.”
Baekhyun ignores Sehun, switching the pencil to his other hand when the younger tries to grab for it, before continuing his tapping on the edge of the desk.
“Leave me alone,” Baekhyun snaps, shooting Sehun a look before redirecting his attention to the front of the room. He slouches back in his chair as he impatiently waits for class to begin, and for a familiar pair of legs to walk into view.
“Don’t get cranky on me just because you haven’t gotten into Mr. Park’s pants yet,” Sehun rolls his eyes, and Yixing muffles his laughter.
Baekhyun sneers, finally dropping his pencil on his desk and tilting his head back to run a hand over his face in frustration (both sexual and otherwise). Today marks the seventh day since being Blue Balled, a status Baekhyun is none too happy with having, let alone for as long as seven freaking days. By this time, he thought he would have already done the deed with Mr. Park, completed the transaction, made his donation, etcetera.
He definitely did not think he would still be at square one at Getting Into His Substitute’s Pants, especially since he’s actually been going to classes. Well, more accurately, class. Not that his attendance has skyrocketed for any actual study and educational purposes.
All Baekhyun has got so far is a few knowing glances thrown his way from the substitute, which doesn't raise anything but his dick to full mast during the most inconvenient times, and his right hand is practically useless because even after jacking himself off in the bathroom stalls, Baekhyun Junior still springs back into action after a mere glimpse of the teacher. It doesn’t help that Mr. Park’s entire wardrobe consists of slacks that really, really accentuate his thighs and certainly highlight that he’s got some form of monster down there that can’t be constrained in his underwear.
(Baekhyun picks up on a lot of things when his vision is just Mr. Park twenty-four/seven.)
Such observations also include the fact that Mr. Park only wears his black, thick-rimmed frames at the beginning of the day (a very appropriate time for Baekhyun’s morning wood to make another sprightly welcomed entrance).
So despite attending class, with all the sexual frustration and sudden boners, Baekhyun can’t help but zone out at whatever Mr. Park is lecturing on about right now. His defining improvement resides in his quiet behaviour, because not only has he toned down his remarks in class, but Baekhyun has also taken the drastic measure of cutting out all that crap that usually gets him sent to detention (because some teachers just don’t appreciate an impressively timed penis joke in the midst of a lesson).
Baekhyun can surely say that he’s never made this much effort for anyone, especially because all it generally takes is a wiggle of his ass and flirtatious look to get someone to drop their pants for him. And as much as Baekhyun had hoped, Mr. Park was not buying this act, because the seductive gazes and winks hadn’t gotten him far at all. In fact, it barely got him to within a sixty-centimetre radius of the teacher.
The bell rings right as Mr. Park steps into the classroom, and Baekhyun automatically straightens in his seat, eyes trained on the teacher as he crosses the room. Baekhyun lets a slight disgruntled look slip onto his face when the desk blocks his view of the substitute’s thighs, but then Mr. Park’s voice is ringing in his ears and Baekhyun’s gaze immediately flickers up to his face to catch the rest of his sentence.
“… and you can hand in your essays to the front of the class.”
Baekhyun freezes, turning to Yixing with wide eyes. The elder just raises his eyebrows, pulling out his papers from between his notebook and waving them for extra effect. “Didn’t you remember to do it?”
Crap.
Baekhyun shakes his head frantically, looking the very image of In Deep Shit as he slumps further down into his seat. He feels Sehun pat him on the head as he goes to place his essay on Mr. Park’s desk, and Baekhyun flips his backside off, wondering if he can slink further down and blend into the furniture but-
“Mr. Byun, are you not going to hand your essay in?”
For once, Baekhyun wishes it wasn’t so easy for him to get attention. He shifts in his seat, clearing his throat to be heard over the mild shuffling and hushed whispers of oh, Baekhyun’s in trouble again.
“Um,” he begins, clasping his hands together and twiddling his thumbs, “… no?”
He presents his answer as more of a question, causing a ripple of quiet laughter to sound through the room, and he tries to look as apologetic as possible (it doesn’t come across well when he hears Good Ol’ Kim Jongin snicker from his seat and Baekhyun’s gaze shifts into something more akin to an eye roll of annoyance).
It’s really just his luck to forget something as important as their one thousand-word essay right as he’s trying to show Mr. Park that he is a Very Good Student (who most definitely deserves to be rewarded for such diligent behaviour).
“I see.” Mr. Park adjusts his glasses, and Baekhyun swallows. He’s expecting a little reprimand in front of class, or even detention or a sentence to the principal, but instead he’s met with…
Nothing.
Baekhyun furrows his brows, watching as Mr. Park just scoops the papers up and shuffles the stack to straighten them out.
“Why isn’t he saying anything?” Baekhyun whispers to Yixing, and the latter just shrugs.
“Maybe he’s letting you off this one time?” Yixing ventures, and Baekhyun looks to Sehun for advice, only to watch the younger sneakily power his Nintendo on under the desk, pressing the buttons repeatedly as he waits for his Pokémon game to start up.
Baekhyun pulls a face and turns back to the front, worrying at his lower lip because his mind is clouded with holyshitIfuckedup and oh my God I fucked up, and Mr. Park still hasn’t commented on his lack of an essay.
He snaps back to attention when Mr. Park claps his hands together to get everyone to quiet down.
“So, where did we leave off from last class?”
Baekhyun is baffled.
Mr. Park hadn’t said a word to him; literally not even a sound of some kind or syllable directed his way, throughout the whole of class. Baekhyun hadn't even been on the receiving end of any of his looks like usual, and it’s oddly unsettling (not in the, hey it’s Puberty knocking at your door trying to make you uncomfortable by giving you, yet again, another mid-class boner but more of a, it’s weird that my substitute isn’t making me squirm in my seat with his seductive onceovers).
He doesn’t know what to make of it, but the thought doesn’t shake from his mind throughout the whole of class until the bell rings and they’re dismissed. Baekhyun stays firmly seated, only getting up once Sehun lightly whacks him on the back to get him moving for their next class. He shoves his stuff into his backpack, sighing once he realizes that Mr. Park really has no intention of acknowledging Baekhyun, even if it’s just a glance.
He hasn’t tried anything like last time at all during the week, keeping up his façade of Grade A Student by coming and leaving class in an orderly, no-time-for-dilly-dallying way. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and this Zero Eye Contact Thing doesn’t sit well with Baekhyun. He’s thinking of how to plan his walk to the front, because Mr. Park will surely be surprised that Baekhyun’s finally making the move of talking to him. He’s considering just some “accidental” eye contact to surely and smoothly bring about a conversation.
But lo and behold, it is just Baekhyun’s luck that Kim Fucking Jongin is already at the substitute’s desk, inquiring over some asinine matter that Baekhyun couldn’t care less to eavesdrop on.
He figures he can wait for a few more seconds whilst Mr. Park pretends to listen to whatever Kim Jongin is whining about, before Baekhyun’s rolling his eyes and shoving the nerd aside in the middle of his sentence, ignoring his whiny-ass protest as he puts on his most innocent-looking smile and flutters his eyelashes.
“Hi, Mr. Park,” he puts one hand on his desk and bends over slightly.
“Yes, Baekhyun?” Mr. Park says, face impassive. No slight flinch or flit of surprise. Nothing. It’s unbelievable just how composed he’s able to act around Baekhyun, when just a mere look from the teacher gets Baekhyun’s libido going in less than a second.
“I was wondering if you were, maybe, free after school?” Baekhyun says, putting on a shy façade for emphasis. Kim Jongin is still squeaking about how Baekhyun totally interrupted his Very Important Question about their fucking quiz, and Baekhyun rolls his head to the side to glare at him.
“Don’t you have another locker to be squished into?” Baekhyun snaps, and Kim Jongin, classy as he is, sticks his tongue out at him, before adjusting his suspenders and storming past him. Baekhyun turns his attention back to the teacher, running his tongue over his lower lip when Mr. Park adjusts his glasses.
“Did you have something you wanted to discuss?” He asks with a straight face, obviously not phased by Baekhyun’s acts of flirtation.
“Yeah, I was just a little confused,” Baekhyun brings his index finger up to his bottom lip, posing all seductively, “about the material we covered today.”
“Was it because you weren’t listening?” Mr. Park says bluntly, getting up from his seat to pull off his sweater. He’s teasing Baekhyun to no fucking end as his tighttighttight dress shirt comes into view, and the teenager’s mouth just goes dry. Mr. Park sits back down with a knowing gaze, a slight smirk on his lips as he starts to correct the pile of essays in front of him. “It’s nearly time for your next class, Mr. Byun.”
Baekhyun hears Yixing and Sehun snicker behind him and he lets out a deep sigh. Trust those two assholes to wait for him and watch his attempt at seducing his teacher go to shit. He makes a move to leave, shifting his backpack when Mr. Park’s voice draws his attention back.
“Oh, Baekhyun?”
There’s a short-lived moment of relief that flickers in his eyes when Baekhyun looks up, but instead, all he gets is the very straight-to-the-point reply of, “Please take Mr. Zhang and Mr. Oh on your way out,” causing his two friends to burst into laughter.
Fucking assholes, really.
It’s at the end of the day that Baekhyun figures it’s time for Attempt #2, because he really needs to clear the air with Mr. Park; this little forgetful act isn’t going to sit well on his nice, (one-week long) clean record. He knocks on the door, nerves tingling as he hears Mr. Park’s voice from inside.
Baekhyun turns the handle, peeking into the classroom to be met with the sight of the teacher leaning back in his chair, tie loosened and hair all mussed. He swallows, eyes travelling down the length of the substitute’s mile-long legs stretched out. He wills his semi down, adjusting his pants subtly as he steps further into the room, shutting the door behind him.
“Mr. Park?”
“Yes, Baekhyun?” He’s wearing his glasses again, pushing them up his nose before glancing up at the teenager walking towards him, “Did you need something?”
His tone is still curt and concise, obviously the previous mistake of today not left forgotten at all. Baekhyun’s confidence falters slightly; he was planning on walking in there, dropping down to his knees, and offering to suck his dick, and it’s a very later awareness that Baekhyun realizes that isn’t going to work.
“Aren’t you going to give me detention, or something?” is what Baekhyun ends up settling for, and he mentally kicks himself for just blurting it out.
“Detention?” It’s the first time Baekhyun sees a hint of confusion flicker in the teacher’s eyes. “Oh, oh, about your essay?”
Baekhyun heartedly nods, and Mr. Park lets out a little chuckle. “I don’t see a reason for needing something as strict as that.”
“What do you mean? Don’t you need to call my parents or send me to the principal’s for not doing my essay?”
It is not like Baekhyun enjoys chastisements, but his brain-to-mouth filter just switches into a dysfunctional mode whenever he’s around Mr. Park, and for something such as this, it only seems fit that he needs to be reprimanded.
“I don’t think forgetting to do one assignment is enough cause for two punishments, do you?”
Baekhyun’s eyebrows furrow, and his mouth opens and closes akin to a goldfish as he searches for words.
“Two…?”
Mr. Park sighs, removing his glasses and placing them on top of his laptop, “Well, giving you detention would be one,” he begins, rounding the corner of the table as Baekhyun spins to follow his movement. Mr. Park leans back against one of the student desks, his butt perched right on the edge as he lowers his voice to a deep whisper, “and taking back your present would be the second.”
Baekhyun’s eyes widen, and he splutters, face heating up considerably.
Mr. Park laughs again, “Surely you didn’t think I forgot?”
Definitely haven’t forgotten, is what Baekhyun thinks, especially not with all those seductive-as-fuck gazes Mr. Park felt inclined to throw his way every single day.
“Ah, and here I was thinking you were too dense to pick up on those.”
Baekhyun claps a hand over his mouth, not realizing he muttered the last part out loud as he sees Mr. Park unbutton the cuffs of his sleeves and roll them up slowly as he continues, “But since you asked, I guess it’s only right I punish you accordingly.”
Baekhyun remains quiet, too stunned by the sight of those godly veins in his forearm that he doesn’t notice Mr. Park moving, and the lock of the door is being flipped shut, until he hears the click.
“Now, Baekhyun,” Mr. Park says in that authoritative tone of his, “is there a reason for this unacceptable forgetfulness?”
Baekhyun can sense the slight sarcasm in his voice, only to be confirmed by the small smirk that the substitute is sporting, and he relaxes. Mr. Park isn't the only player at this game.
He clears his throat, rubbing his palm around the nape of his neck.
“Well, to be honest sir, I was too busy thinking about you fucking me over your desk.”
Mr. Park cocks an eyebrow, and it's only when Baekhyun licks over his lips does his gaze flicker down to his mouth and a tiny growl escapes from the back of the teacher’s throat. Baekhyun can practically see his resolve crumbling when he finds his back against the wall after being harshly shoved backwards, and Mr. Park is nipping at his neck.
There’s already a knee slotted in between his thighs and spreading them open, as Baekhyun feels his teacher lick over the expanse of his skin. He bites down on his lip to muffle a gasp as his hands come up to grip onto the substitute’s arms, extended and braced up against the wall.
“Mr. P-Park,” Baekhyun stutters out, because the teacher is moving his leg back and forth against Baekhyun’s crotch and the friction is turning his semi into a full erection amazingly quick.
The teacher pauses his tongue and teeth action on Baekhyun’s neck and looks up, eyes glazed over with something Baekhyun only recognizes as lust.
“Chanyeol.”
“What?”
“Call me Chanyeol.”
Baekhyun takes a deep breath, the name falling off his tongue in a soft whisper, “Chanyeol.”
He smiles, one that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners, and bends down again to suck at Baekhyun’s collarbone, his fingers deftly working on the belt looped around the younger’s waist. Baekhyun’s thinking of pinching himself, because this is happening. This is finally happening, and Baekhyun really doesn’t want to wake up and find out this is a dream. But then he feels Chanyeol’s teeth pinch at his skin, and he tilts his head back to allow the substitute more access to his neck.
“Your belt is fucking shit,” Chanyeol mutters, licking over the mark freshly made, and he laughs all low and rough. Baekhyun’s pants tighten even more at the sound.
“You’re not going to blue-ball me again, are you?” Baekhyun breathes, nails digging into the fabric of Chanyeol’s dress shirt as he starts to tug at it. Chanyeol’s already got a hand down his unbuttoned pants and briefs, pulling at Baekhyun’s dick with quick jerks, and the younger sharply inhales, heat coiling in the pit of his stomach.
He could probably pass out right now, and still be content with how things went. After all, it’s not everyday that his teacher’s hand is on his dick, stroking him up and down.
“No fucking way I’m stopping,” Chanyeol snarls, and it’s so hot the way his upper lip curls straight into a smirk, that Baekhyun brings his hands to the front of the substitute’s shirt, twisting his fists in the material. He feels Chanyeol’s own hardness press against his inner thigh, and Baekhyun starts to breathe faster.
“God, just kiss me already,” he all but growls out, and Chanyeol gladly bends down to crash their lips together, tipping Baekhyun’s chin up with an index finger.
It’s with a sigh of immense relief that Baekhyun opens his mouth more to let their tongues meet; it is exactly what he’s been needing, been craving, ever since he made that bet with Sehun a week ago. Chanyeol’s lips are firm on his own, and Baekhyun tilts his head more to let the teacher lick into his mouth. Everything is hot and messy, nowhere near one of those Perfect First Kisses, but that isn’t what either of them needs right now.
Baekhyun’s got a week of pent-up sexual frustration, and Chanyeol is fueled by the copious tension that lies between him and a sly teenage tease of the name Byun Baekhyun.
It’s not like Chanyeol to go for teenagers, in all honesty; Baekhyun is as far as he’s ever gone with a student, and as much as he would have liked to have kept his record clean of any internal school affairs, Byun Baekhyun is most definitely an exception worth making.
With those soft lips, that huge sex drive that Chanyeol can practically see dripping off of him, and round ass (he would be lying if he said he never looked and/or stared at the younger’s backside), it would have been with much regret if he never gave in to Baekhyun’s seduction attempts.
And right now, the teenager is pretty much dry humping him fully clothed, and as much as Chanyeol needs to get off, coming in his work slacks on a teenager he would rather have his dick stuffed in, isn’t the way he wants to feel his release.
He starts to pull at his tie, and is about remove it completely when Baekhyun’s hand is on his. It’s the look on his face that makes Chanyeol still, because the gaze is unreadable, and he isn’t sure if Baekhyun is having second thoughts, but then-
“Keep it on,” Baekhyun exhales, lips slick with spit as he tries to regain some breathing. “P-please… fuck me with it on.”
In the end, they don’t fuck over the desk.
Instead, Chanyeol’s got his slacks pooled around his ankles as his shirt stays unbuttoned and the tie is draped around his neck. Baekhyun is bouncing on his cock completely naked, save for his shirt that’s stopping the rough wallpaper from rubbing too harshly against his back.
Chanyeol has Baekhyun’s knees hooked over his shoulders as he bucks his hips up quicker into the younger, and moans wantonly spill out from the teenager’s mouth. They’re both bruised and marked, Chanyeol with claw marks down his back and arms, and Baekhyun with numerous hickeys decorated all across his neck and jaw.
“So good,” Chanyeol says, one hand momentarily brushing the hair off Baekhyun’s forehead, “such a good baby for me.”
Baekhyun clenches around Chanyeol’s cock, pulling himself in towards the teacher with the ends of the teacher’s tie wrapped around his hands, to mesh their lips together in an open-mouthed kiss.
“Daddy’s cock is-ah-so big.”
Chanyeol smirks. Baekhyun plays the role of obedient baby very well (his introduction sheet didn’t lie), and Chanyeol can’t help but fuck harder into his tight wet heat, the slide in so slick and hot. There are several things Baekhyun will lie about, but dick sizes and talent in bed are not among the many.
“Faster, daddy, please,” Baekhyun whimpers, and Chanyeol can only oblige as he spreads his cheeks further to get more of his dick in his ass.
It’s not long after when Baekhyun’s got a hand curled around his dick as he strokes himself to completion, the combined stimulation from Chanyeol’s long dick poking at his spot, that he comes in spurts all over his hand. He’s automatically back to cocky Byun Baekhyun, the confident and collected Byun Baekhyun he was before meeting Park Chanyeol, and he lifts his hand to lick at the white liquid.
Chanyeol mutters out a low, “Fuck,” and speeds up his thrusting only to reach his orgasm seconds later, the sight of Baekhyun sucking at his come too much to take, and releases into the condom.
Chanyeol lets Baekhyun down carefully, and the teenager is slightly shaky when his feet touch the ground, and he knows his ass is going to be the sorest it’s been in a while. It’s not like Baekhyun bottoms often, and no one plows into him as rough as that whenever he does.
They’re both sweaty and thoroughly fucked, their deep breathing filling the silence of the room. They don’t say anything as they clean up and get dressed, because this definitely is not one of these one-night stand situations where they can just bid each other farewell after a nice, satisfying screwing.
Primarily because Chanyeol is Baekhyun’s substitute teacher, and they’re going to see each other the next day in class. The second reason goes unsaid as well however, because despite how hot and heavy the sex was; they both can still feel the unresolved sexual tension between the two of them.
And it’s definitely not going to be doused after one hour of fucking.
Chanyeol’s voice breaks the stillness once they’re both dressed, for the most part (Baekhyun’s missing a shoe somewhere, and Chanyeol’s pants are still unbuttoned).
“Seeming as you got your reward after all, I’ll see here you tomorrow for your actual punishment.” His voice is surprisingly crisp for someone who just has his cock stuffed in a spectacularly tight ass, but the message welcomingly cuts through the silence.
A grin breaks across the younger’s face, and Chanyeol strides forward to capture his lips in another heated kiss.
“You’re really the worst student I’ve ever had, Byun Baekhyun,” he zips up his slacks.
It’s the first time Baekhyun has ever looked forward to detention.
//
unedited for now ;u; apology fic completed !! ((also sorry it sucks ;u;))