You're Still Here
You're Still Here
Kris/Baekhyun, college!au | NC-17 | ~4k
It was nice while it lasted.
Fill for prompt here at exopromptmeme
you're still here
It wasn’t a clean cut even though Baekhyun claims it was. “We broke up,” he would say with a shrug, but really it was more of a we fought, we made up, we fought again and this time I’m tired.
Kris doesn't say anything. In fact, he stops existing around Baekhyun. The always occupied seat next to him during lunch is suddenly filled with air and empty spaces and unspoken words of pity from his friends’ stares. It shouldn’t bother Baekhyun so much, how cold his right side feels and how Chanyeol would pause while he’s walking towards him and sit in front of Baekhyun instead. Jongdae gives him half his sandwich and Baekhyun nearly throws it back at his face.
It’s still painful because Kris is in his Biology 183 class. The lecture hall is big but Kris’s head is painfully obvious amongst the sea of anonymous faces and he’s always somewhere in the periphery of Baekhyun’s vision no matter where he sits.
“It’s been two months,” Chanyeol says one day.
“Who’s counting,” Baekhyun replies.
You are is the on the tip of everyone’s tongue but it gets swallowed back. Baekhyun presses the tip of his pencil too hard against the paper and the lead breaks with a sharp crack.
Two months mean Kris found a pretty sophomore girl who majors in fashion and textiles and is from Hong Kong with pretty eyes and even prettier hair. She’s quiet and soft and everything Baekhyun’s not. Two months mean Kris finding someone else and moving on while Baekhyun watched and pined and seethed and gave up.
--
Kyungsoo’s lap is really comfortable to cry into. Baekhyun would feel a little bad about getting tears all over his jeans but right now he can’t catch his breath, and his anger is spilling out with each choked word.
“I tried,” he says and is cut off with a hiccup. Kyungsoo shushes him, warm fingers soothing against his scalp. I tried, I gave, I wanted, but I didn’t receive.
“It’s his loss,” Kyungsoo says.
No, it’s mine, Baekhyun wants to wail but it only comes out as a strangled garble and Kyungsoo collects him in his arms.
“Sit next to me in bio lecture tomorrow,” he says when Baekhyun’s tying up his shoes.
“Why?”
“You’ve been sitting in the same seat you and Kris would sit in,” Kyungsoo says softly. “You need a change.”
It’s his way of saying you need to move on but all Baekhyun hears is Kris isn’t there anymore, and he slams the door on his way out.
--
It was nice while it lasted.
Kris was the warm body he returned to after a long night in the studio, the sleepy voice that told him to come back to bed stupid, amongst other things; Kris was the anchor that kept Baekhyun afloat with all the weight of GEP classes and majors and minors on his shoulders. “You always come back more colorful than your paintings,” Kris would joke, thumb rubbing at the dried streak of green and red on the apple of Baekhyun’s cheeks. He saw the purple beneath Baekhyun’s eyes too but he didn’t ask about it, didn’t say anything, simply grabbed Baekhyun’s wrists and led him to bed.
Kris was the one who packed up his half of the apartment and left with a quiet click of the door, his scribbled note of a single lined apology left on the kitchen counter. It ended up torn and flushed down the toilet because Baekhyun couldn’t find his zippo lighter through the blindfold of tears.
Kris was the cause of the sunglasses Baekhyun dawned on during the aftermath, black lenses blocking puffy lids and bloodshot eyes. Jaws clenched and lips pressed shut, his smiles fell to pieces when Chanyeol cornered him by the library and demanded explanations, and the glasses slipped off as Chanyeol caught him before Baekhyun could collapse on the floor.
--
Three months later and Baekhyun swings by the Black Pearl cafe for the first time in ages.
“Hey stranger,” Joonmyun says, eyebrows lifting as Baekhyun leans against the counter. “Haven’t you seen around these parts in a while.”
“You sound old, gramps,” Baekhyun jokes. It feels nice to laugh.
“People are noticing that you’re not up there making every other singer feel bad,” Joonmyun points his chin at the mic stand. The small makeshift stage that’s surrounded by bookshelves of old classics is currently deserted, and the spotlight makes it appear bigger than it actually is.
“I don’t know… if I’m in the mood these days,” Baekhyun mutters as Joonmyun serves up his iced mocha. He gives Baekhyun a pointed look as he slides the drink across the counter, a half covered straw sticking out from the dome cover.
“How’s your project?” he asks, switching the subject.
Baekhyun gives him a small smile. “It’s going well.”
Well as in he went through four tubes of black and even more tubes of red, three broken brushes with their bristles falling out, and five canvases that end up all tossed in a corner. Their blank whiteness has been slashed through with streaks of black and red, Baekhyun painting his broken and bleeding heart in the form of blind art.
Joonmyun hums. “That’s good to hear.”
There’s the squealing feedback from the microphone as a shy girl takes the stage, a bulky guitar slung across her shoulders as she adjusts the height of the stand. She pulls her hair behind her shoulder, and Baekhyun sees flashes of Kris adjusting his bangs and then flashes of Kris smoothing a hand down his girlfriend’s hair. The thin plastic cup crunches a little in his hand.
“I’ll see you this Friday,” he says as he tosses his barely touched mocha into the trash. Joonmyun looks a little sad at the waste but he’s more surprised than anything.
“You’re coming for open mic?”
“I need a distraction. Take my mind off some things.” The soft tones of the girl filters through the speakers, her pitch steady and the strums of her guitar strings a rhythmic melody.
“It’ll be great to see you on there again. You take care, okay?” Joonmyun calls out as Baekhyun pushes the doors open, tiny bells jingling above his head.
“I’ll try.”
--
“... You going out?” Chanyeol asks when Baekhyun answers the door. He eyes the newly dyed hair, the usual brown replaced with a darker shade edging on wine red, and the black skinny jeans.
“Yeah, open mic tonight,” Baekhyun says, twirling his eyeliner between his fingers. “You needed something?”
“No, I - are you going to the Black Pearl?”
Baekhyun motions for Chanyeol to come in. “Where else? I’ve always gone to Black Pearl.”
“I know, it’s just… Nevermind, I was just surprised. Because you haven’t gone out in a while.” Chanyeol lingers by the door, one foot in and one foot out. “I actually came to see if you wanted to go see a movie or something. You should do open mic next week.”
Baekhyun’s already walking into his bathroom, the heel of his right hand pressed against his cheek as he traces the waterline of his eyes with black kohl. “I told you Chanyeol, I’m going tonight. I need this.”
“You should tell me these things beforehand,” Chanyeol says. He’s finally entered Baekhyun’s apartment and is now leaning with his hip pressed against the door jamb, his arms crossed. “These things would be nice to know.”
He looks frustrated and a little worried, and Baekhyun really can’t figure out why. “Sure… I don’t really see what the problem is.”
He checks his face in the mirror, sees the dark eyeliner traced along his lids. It’s a dark look, almost unfitting for a simple open mic night at a small cafe, but right now he’s just focused on the bundle of emotions he’s ready to let go tonight.
--
Chanyeol disappears into the cafe before Baekhyun. He sits in the car for a little while, lets the engine run for a few minutes. He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against the steering wheel, lets all these images of the past crash into him. Except this time, the tears don’t come.
It’s too cold for it to be October and Baekhyun pulls his jacket tighter around his shoulder. He clutches onto the MP3 in his pocket. The bells jingle when he steps inside, feels the comforting warmth of the cafe wash over him. He looks around for Chanyeol but can’t seem to find him; instead he sees Joonmyun fiddling with the speakers.
“Hey, you’re here!” Joonmyun says when Baekhyun approaches. “No keyboard?”
“Not tonight,” Baekhyun shakes his head and holds up his MP3. “Didn’t really have time to practice.”
Joonmyun smiles as he plugs the device in. The smile wavers, however, when he sees the song title. “Baekhyun…”
“Just for tonight, hyung. I need to get it off my chest. I could censor myself if need be, I -”
“No, it’s not that, it’s…” Joonmyun gives him this look, some mix of fear and regret and confusion, and his eyes drift over Baekhyun’s shoulder. Baekhyun turns around and doesn’t see what Joonmyun’s looking at until -
Chanyeol’s pulling a confused and frustrated Kris towards the exit. His girlfriend follows reluctantly along, tangling her arms with Kris’s as Chanyeol explains something; Baekhyun can’t hear what he’s saying but it sounds a little desperate, kinda like how Chanyeol was when he appeared at Baekhyun’s front door. He knew.
“Baekhyun, maybe -”
“Just play the music when I say so, hyung,” Baekhyun says, cutting Joonmyun off from whatever he was about to say. Just let me do this.
Baekhyun readies himself before stepping onto the stage, eyes trained on where Kris is pulling away from Chanyeol and choosing a table right in front of the stage. Baekhyun catches Chanyeol’s eyes, catches the words I’m sorry before Chanyeol’s pushing out the door.
His hands shake a little as he adjusts the angle of the mic. He licks his lips, looks over at Joonmyun and nods his head. The first few chords of the piano filters through the speakers and Baekhyun closes his eyes, hands gripping the microphone tightly for support.
I want you to know,
that I’m happy for you.
I wish nothing but
the best for you both.
He blinks his eyes open slowly, lazily, and looks Kris dead in the face. He waits for the crippling insecurity, the red-hot feeling of hate and jealousy and regret to rush through him. Instead he feels nothing but the steady beat of the drums in the background.
He keeps his eyes locked with Kris’s and it’s like some kind of challenge. I dare you to look away first. Kris watches him silently, his face stone blank and hands palms down on the table.
It was a slap in the face
how quickly I was replaced.
Are you thinking of me
when you fuck her?
The lyrics are coming out sharper now, the words cutting as Baekhyun nearly yells them into the mic. The cafe is quiet after he’s done before a gentle crescendo of applause welcomes him as he walks down the steps. Joonmyun hands him his MP3 and pats him on the shoulder. “Did it work?” he asks.
“Yeah,” Baekhyun says, wiping the back of his hand along the side of his face. His heart is pumping but it’s not from any particular emotion other than the thrill of singing on a stage again. He feels… nothing. “I think it worked.”
“I’m glad,” Joonmyun says smiling. He walks closer and envelopes Baekhyun in a warm hug. It’s nice to have a shoulder to press his cheeks against.
“I need to go clean up,” Baekhyun says. His eyes feel wet but he’s sure it’s not from tears. “I feel kind of gross.”
Joonmyun laughs and shakes his head. “You look fine. But go freshen up, your hair’s kind of…” he dwindles off, hand reaching up and brushing aside Baekhyun’s bangs. Baekhyun jerks back perhaps a little too quickly and Joonmyun drops his hands.
“I’ll see you later, hyung,” Baekhyun says quickly, grabbing his jacket and walking towards the bathroom.
He doesn’t see Kris whispering to his girlfriend and standing up, eyes trained on Baekhyun’s back the whole time.
--
He’s barely two step into the bathroom when he feels someone push him inside, the door slamming shut but he barely registers it as hands grip his elbows, and someone’s pinning him against the wall.
“What was that, huh?” Kris is standing before him, face twisted into something like rage and confusion as he stares down at Baekhyun. “You think this is a joke?”
“Yeah, it’s fucking hilarious,” Baekhyun grits out. Seeing Kris like this, eyes flickering angrily over his face and breath coming out too fast to be normal, doesn’t surprise him; perhaps he expected this to happen, wanted it to happen. “You should’ve seen your face -”
Kris pulls away and drags Baekhyun along with him. He shoves him into one of the vacant stalls, and it hits Baekhyun then how empty the restroom is. The stall door closes with enough force to rattle the sides.
The wall feels cold against his back even through the layers of his jacket when Baekhun presses up against it, Kris standing so close to him their toes touch. “What the fuck was that out there?” he hisses. “Do you know what kind of mess you’ve thrown me into now -”
“Mess?” Baekhyun laughs, almost hysterical, because this is fucking hilarious and pathetic all at once. “You’re a mess? Where have you been the past few months? Have you even looked at me once?”
“You know we’re -”
“You left me,” Baekhyun nearly screams. Kris’s eyes widen and his hold on Baekhyun’s shoulder slacken a little. “You left me. You left me without an explanation and you fucked me over. I was the mess, Kris, I couldn’t go outside for days, I couldn’t talk to my friends, you ruined it for me.”
Anger bubbles beneath his skin because this is the first time in months since Kris talked to him last, since Kris has even spent a second looking in his direction, and here he is, expression bewildered as if he hadn’t expected Baekhyun to be this broken, this torn over the break-up.
“Baekhyun -”
“So how is she, huh, Kris?” Baekhyun asks, breathless, and he knows he’s overstepping a line right now. His hands reach up and grab Kris’s neck, pulling him down so Baekhyun can press his lips against his ear. “Does she feel as good as me?”
He feels Kris’s shoulder stiffen, his whole body going rigid against him but he presses forward, wants to see how far he can push this boundary, who will crack first.
“I bet she doesn’t know what you like,” Baekhyun says. Kris steps forward and they’re chest to chest now. “Bet she doesn’t even know how to suck a good cock -”
His shoulder blades suddenly dig into the wall as Kris slams him against it. A thigh is shoved between his legs, Kris’s knee settling right below his crotch as he grabs Baekhyun’s hands and pins them above his head. Kris’s face is inches from his and his pupils are blown, eyes wide and blazing.
“You think you can do better?” he growls, moving his thigh higher until he’s rubbing against Baekhyun’s obvious erection. He holds back a groan, bites his lips and fights it because he isn’t about to give Kris the satisfaction of knowing he’s getting him off. “Fucking prove it then.”
Hands are pushing down on his shoulders, and Baekhyun’s knees bang against the tiled floors. He winces a little but Kris cards his hand through his hair, fingers twisting in the dark locks and gripping tight.
Baekhyun rubs at Kris’s erection through his jeans, before tugging at the zippers and mouthing at his dick through his boxers. He sees the wet spot where the head is, and he pulls the boxer down. Kris is almost fully hard, and Baekhyun wastes no time licking along the shaft, fingers pressing feather light touches where his mouth hasn’t reached yet.
“Fuck, stop teasing,” Kris says, tugging at Baekhyun’s hair. Baekhyun glares at him and sucks gently on the head, tongue prodding at the slit.
“Do you beg like this for her, hm?” Baekhyun asks. Before Kris can even comprehend his question, Baekhyun slides him into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressed against the underside of his dick. He can feel Kris’s body trembling and he sucks, cheeks hollowing as he rubs with his hand where his mouth can’t reach.
Kris has the back of his hand pressed against his mouth, eyebrows furrowed as he muffled his moan. He drops his hand when Baekhyun stops sucking and pulls away, catching his breath as he licks around the head. “Who said I’m begging,” Kris says, breath harsh.
“You will be,” Baekhyun says. He hums as he take Kris into his mouth again and the vibrations has Kris bracing his hand on the wall, his other one still grasping the hairs on the back of Baekhyun’s neck. His hips start thrusting shallowly, and Baekhyun lets his jaws go slack. Kris takes this as his cue and starts thrusting in earnest, the tip of his dick pushing into Baekhyun’s throat and he gags a little.
“Sorry,” Kris mutters, fingers scratching soothingly against Baekhyun’s scalp. Baekhyun ignores him and presses forward as far as he can go and swallows. Kris practically yells, and then he’s tugging Baekhyun off his dick and dragging him up.
“Suck,” he says, pressing two fingers of his left hand against Baekhyun’s lips. His mouth feels sticky with precome but he parts his lips, and Kris presses his fingers against his tongue. His other hand goes to work on Baekhyun’s jean zippers and buttons. “The wetter you make them, the easier it’ll be, yeah?”
Baekhyun can’t help the sting of nostalgia that hits him, even as Kris slips another finger into his mouth. It’s like a flashback from six months ago, when Kris would tie his hands against the headboard and fuck him four fingers deep until Baekhyun’s practically sobbing for his release.
But this isn’t six months ago. This isn’t about Kris and Baekhyun anymore. This is Kris pulling Baekhyun’s jeans down along with his briefs and the only connection between them is Kris’s fingers in Baekhyun’s mouth and on Baekhyun’s dick.
“Is this what you were going after?” Kris says, mouth pressed against Baekhyun’s ear. He pulls his fingers out, and Baekhyun finds himself flipped around and his chest pressed against the wall. Kris kicks at his ankles and he spreads his legs as far he can. “Wanted a quick fuck or something like that?”
Baekhyun chokes back a sob as Kris presses two fingers against his entrance and slips in just a bit before pulling out. “Fuck you,” he rasps, knuckles bruising from where he’s pressing his fists against the wall.
Kris shoves the two fingers in without pretense, and Baekhyun can feel the curve of his smirk against his shoulder as he lurches forward, his forehead pressing against the cold tiled wall and fingernails scratching over the grout. “You first,” Kris says, teeth catching onto his earlobe and pulling.
Baekhyun huffs. “You’ve -ah -always been so lame,” he gasps as Kris crooks his fingers in just the right way, the tips of his fingers brushing against his prostate. It’s too much and not enough at the same time. He’s sure if it weren’t for Kris’s arm around his waist he’d be slipping onto the floor right now.
“Hurry,” he pleads, now pushing back onto Kris’s fingers and trying to get them deeper. “Just - god, fuck me already.”
“Who’s begging now?” Kris chuckles but he’s breathless and by the way his fingers dig into his waist, Baekhyun knows he can’t hold out much longer either. There’s the ruffling of Kris pushing his jeans and boxers further down. He pulls his fingers out, and Baekhyun whines at the emptiness but suddenly Kris is pressing closer against him, sandwiching him between the wall and his body. He reaches down and hooks a hand underneath Baekhyun’s right knee and lifts his leg up, pinning it against the wall.
“I - I didn’t bring -” he starts but Baekhyun just grinds back against him, frustrated and desperate.
“It’s not like we’ve never done it before,” he snaps. Kris pauses briefly before he hikes Baekhyun’s leg further up. Baekhyun hears the slick noise of Kris wetting his dick with spit and precome. He braces himself against the wall, eyes squeezing shut when he feels the blunt head press against him.
It hurts, how raw Kris enters him. It’s slow and Baekhyun blinks back the tears as he feels the stretch with every centimeter Kris pushes in. “Oh fuck fuck fuck,” he gasps, fingers digging for purchase against the wall only to end up slipping down.
Kris doesn’t stop; he keeps pushing until he’s seated all the way, his breath hot against Baekhyun’s neck. His other hand finds Baekhyun’s against the wall and he locks their fingers together, pinning Baekhyun’s hand higher above his head.
They stay like that, Kris holding Baekhyun against the wall by his leg and Baekhyun trying to relax so that the Kris can move. “It’s been a while, huh,” Kris hums.
“What do you think, asshole,” Baekhyun says through clenched teeth. He breathes in through his nose, hand squeezing Kris’s fingers between his.
Kris shifts and slowly pulls out before thrusting forward. Baekhyun lets out a sigh, feels the faint buzz of pleasure beneath the dull pain as he lets out barely audible whimpers.
The pace quickens and soon Kris lets go of Baekhyun’s leg to wrap an arm around his waist. The leg remains trapped in its position, and Baekhyun can feel a bruise forming from where his knee is pressed against the wall but he can hardly focus on that now, not when Kris is pounding into him. Baekhyun feels like his lungs are going to collapse and he leans back, resting his head on Kris’s shoulder as Kris mouth along his neck and jaw, biting softly on his shoulder.
“Fuck - faster just - please,” Baekhyun moans, all sense of self preservation thrown out the window as he grinds down in time to meet Kris’s thrusts.
“God, Baekhyun, you -” Kris pants, his lips pressed right against Baekhyun’s ear as he grips Baekhyun’s waist with both hands and shifts his angle just right-
“There, oh fuck, right there, yes,” Baekhyun gasps, head falling forward again. His bangs are wet with sweat and his shirt is sticking to his chest. He moves one hand down to jerk himself but Kris grabs it and pins it back against the wall. “No touching,” he breathes and Baekhyun can’t even snap back as Kris pounds into his prostate.
Kris pulls out suddenly, and Baekhyun feels him come all over the inside of his thigh. He sighs, his own dick still hard and desperate to be touched. Kris drags his fingers through the mess on Baekhyun’s thigh before pressing three fingers back inside him, crooking and searching as his other hand sneaks around and fists Baekhyun’s cock.
“Shit, Kris, oh my god,” he breaks off with a choke when Kris rubs insistently against his prostate while jerking him off. “I -I’m -”
“Come,” Kris mutters, tongue laving over where he bit down so hard on Baekhyun’s shoulder a bruise has bloomed under his milky skin.
Baekhyun comes so hard he momentarily blacks out. When he comes to, he’s still being held up by Kris whose arms are wrapped around his stomach. He waits for his breath to slow down but his heart is still racing as he struggles out of Kris’s hold.
“Let go of me,” he says lowly, a sob threatening to break through.
“Baekhyun -”
“No!” Baekhyun twists away and he knows he looks ridiculous, jeans twisted up around his ankles and the collar of his shirt drenched with sweat and hair a mess. “I was getting over you! I am over you; tonight, I was going to forget about you but you had to come in here and fuck everything up just like you always do.”
Kris looks at him bewildered, hands held awkwardly between them as if he wants to reach over but Baekhyun knows he can never do that. He won’t let him.
He pulls his jeans up, wincing at the mess, face flushed as he unlocks the stall and rushes out. He doesn’t manage to get very far before Kris grabs his elbow and pulls him back. “Baekhyun, listen to me -”
Baekhyun whips around and before he can raise a hand to punch Kris in the chest, Kris rushes forward and captures his lips with his, hands cupping his jaw. Baekhyun freezes and his mind is going into overdrive; before he can tell himself stop, he’s pressing closer, lips parting desperately beneath Kris’s prodding and letting out a shaky moan that Kris swallows when Kris curls his tongue against his.
“I fucking hate you,” Baekhyun whimpers against Kris’s lips. Kris shushes him, and Baekhyun can see the trembling in his smile and the way his eyes glitter with unshed tears. His own cheeks feel wet. “You’re an asshole and I hate you.”
“I know,” Kris says, lips pressing kisses from the soft skin under his eye and down his cheek. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I was stupid, I thought…” He stops right over Baekhyun’s mouth again, their lips just barely brushing. “With all your projects and me graduating soon… I wasn’t sure if you wanted me anymore.”
Baekhyun just stares at him, and Kris yelps when he feels a sharp pinch on his stomach. “You idiot, I get to decide whether I want you or not.”
Kris laughs, breathless with relief as he pulls Baekhyun closer and hugs him tight. Baekhyun tucks his face into his neck, hands fisting onto Kris’s shirt.
“All that mess I caused, everything, I’m going to make it up to you,” Kris mumbles against his shoulder, hand soothing down Baekhyun’s back.
“Good,” Baekhyun replies and then pulls away before gesturing towards Kris’s general state of post-sex disarray. “First, fix this mess.”
A/N: i had no idea how to end this so apologies for that. also op i'm really glad you liked it!
Kris/Baekhyun, college!au | NC-17 | ~4k
It was nice while it lasted.
Fill for prompt here at exopromptmeme
you're still here
It wasn’t a clean cut even though Baekhyun claims it was. “We broke up,” he would say with a shrug, but really it was more of a we fought, we made up, we fought again and this time I’m tired.
Kris doesn't say anything. In fact, he stops existing around Baekhyun. The always occupied seat next to him during lunch is suddenly filled with air and empty spaces and unspoken words of pity from his friends’ stares. It shouldn’t bother Baekhyun so much, how cold his right side feels and how Chanyeol would pause while he’s walking towards him and sit in front of Baekhyun instead. Jongdae gives him half his sandwich and Baekhyun nearly throws it back at his face.
It’s still painful because Kris is in his Biology 183 class. The lecture hall is big but Kris’s head is painfully obvious amongst the sea of anonymous faces and he’s always somewhere in the periphery of Baekhyun’s vision no matter where he sits.
“It’s been two months,” Chanyeol says one day.
“Who’s counting,” Baekhyun replies.
You are is the on the tip of everyone’s tongue but it gets swallowed back. Baekhyun presses the tip of his pencil too hard against the paper and the lead breaks with a sharp crack.
Two months mean Kris found a pretty sophomore girl who majors in fashion and textiles and is from Hong Kong with pretty eyes and even prettier hair. She’s quiet and soft and everything Baekhyun’s not. Two months mean Kris finding someone else and moving on while Baekhyun watched and pined and seethed and gave up.
--
Kyungsoo’s lap is really comfortable to cry into. Baekhyun would feel a little bad about getting tears all over his jeans but right now he can’t catch his breath, and his anger is spilling out with each choked word.
“I tried,” he says and is cut off with a hiccup. Kyungsoo shushes him, warm fingers soothing against his scalp. I tried, I gave, I wanted, but I didn’t receive.
“It’s his loss,” Kyungsoo says.
No, it’s mine, Baekhyun wants to wail but it only comes out as a strangled garble and Kyungsoo collects him in his arms.
“Sit next to me in bio lecture tomorrow,” he says when Baekhyun’s tying up his shoes.
“Why?”
“You’ve been sitting in the same seat you and Kris would sit in,” Kyungsoo says softly. “You need a change.”
It’s his way of saying you need to move on but all Baekhyun hears is Kris isn’t there anymore, and he slams the door on his way out.
--
It was nice while it lasted.
Kris was the warm body he returned to after a long night in the studio, the sleepy voice that told him to come back to bed stupid, amongst other things; Kris was the anchor that kept Baekhyun afloat with all the weight of GEP classes and majors and minors on his shoulders. “You always come back more colorful than your paintings,” Kris would joke, thumb rubbing at the dried streak of green and red on the apple of Baekhyun’s cheeks. He saw the purple beneath Baekhyun’s eyes too but he didn’t ask about it, didn’t say anything, simply grabbed Baekhyun’s wrists and led him to bed.
Kris was the one who packed up his half of the apartment and left with a quiet click of the door, his scribbled note of a single lined apology left on the kitchen counter. It ended up torn and flushed down the toilet because Baekhyun couldn’t find his zippo lighter through the blindfold of tears.
Kris was the cause of the sunglasses Baekhyun dawned on during the aftermath, black lenses blocking puffy lids and bloodshot eyes. Jaws clenched and lips pressed shut, his smiles fell to pieces when Chanyeol cornered him by the library and demanded explanations, and the glasses slipped off as Chanyeol caught him before Baekhyun could collapse on the floor.
--
Three months later and Baekhyun swings by the Black Pearl cafe for the first time in ages.
“Hey stranger,” Joonmyun says, eyebrows lifting as Baekhyun leans against the counter. “Haven’t you seen around these parts in a while.”
“You sound old, gramps,” Baekhyun jokes. It feels nice to laugh.
“People are noticing that you’re not up there making every other singer feel bad,” Joonmyun points his chin at the mic stand. The small makeshift stage that’s surrounded by bookshelves of old classics is currently deserted, and the spotlight makes it appear bigger than it actually is.
“I don’t know… if I’m in the mood these days,” Baekhyun mutters as Joonmyun serves up his iced mocha. He gives Baekhyun a pointed look as he slides the drink across the counter, a half covered straw sticking out from the dome cover.
“How’s your project?” he asks, switching the subject.
Baekhyun gives him a small smile. “It’s going well.”
Well as in he went through four tubes of black and even more tubes of red, three broken brushes with their bristles falling out, and five canvases that end up all tossed in a corner. Their blank whiteness has been slashed through with streaks of black and red, Baekhyun painting his broken and bleeding heart in the form of blind art.
Joonmyun hums. “That’s good to hear.”
There’s the squealing feedback from the microphone as a shy girl takes the stage, a bulky guitar slung across her shoulders as she adjusts the height of the stand. She pulls her hair behind her shoulder, and Baekhyun sees flashes of Kris adjusting his bangs and then flashes of Kris smoothing a hand down his girlfriend’s hair. The thin plastic cup crunches a little in his hand.
“I’ll see you this Friday,” he says as he tosses his barely touched mocha into the trash. Joonmyun looks a little sad at the waste but he’s more surprised than anything.
“You’re coming for open mic?”
“I need a distraction. Take my mind off some things.” The soft tones of the girl filters through the speakers, her pitch steady and the strums of her guitar strings a rhythmic melody.
“It’ll be great to see you on there again. You take care, okay?” Joonmyun calls out as Baekhyun pushes the doors open, tiny bells jingling above his head.
“I’ll try.”
--
“... You going out?” Chanyeol asks when Baekhyun answers the door. He eyes the newly dyed hair, the usual brown replaced with a darker shade edging on wine red, and the black skinny jeans.
“Yeah, open mic tonight,” Baekhyun says, twirling his eyeliner between his fingers. “You needed something?”
“No, I - are you going to the Black Pearl?”
Baekhyun motions for Chanyeol to come in. “Where else? I’ve always gone to Black Pearl.”
“I know, it’s just… Nevermind, I was just surprised. Because you haven’t gone out in a while.” Chanyeol lingers by the door, one foot in and one foot out. “I actually came to see if you wanted to go see a movie or something. You should do open mic next week.”
Baekhyun’s already walking into his bathroom, the heel of his right hand pressed against his cheek as he traces the waterline of his eyes with black kohl. “I told you Chanyeol, I’m going tonight. I need this.”
“You should tell me these things beforehand,” Chanyeol says. He’s finally entered Baekhyun’s apartment and is now leaning with his hip pressed against the door jamb, his arms crossed. “These things would be nice to know.”
He looks frustrated and a little worried, and Baekhyun really can’t figure out why. “Sure… I don’t really see what the problem is.”
He checks his face in the mirror, sees the dark eyeliner traced along his lids. It’s a dark look, almost unfitting for a simple open mic night at a small cafe, but right now he’s just focused on the bundle of emotions he’s ready to let go tonight.
--
Chanyeol disappears into the cafe before Baekhyun. He sits in the car for a little while, lets the engine run for a few minutes. He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against the steering wheel, lets all these images of the past crash into him. Except this time, the tears don’t come.
It’s too cold for it to be October and Baekhyun pulls his jacket tighter around his shoulder. He clutches onto the MP3 in his pocket. The bells jingle when he steps inside, feels the comforting warmth of the cafe wash over him. He looks around for Chanyeol but can’t seem to find him; instead he sees Joonmyun fiddling with the speakers.
“Hey, you’re here!” Joonmyun says when Baekhyun approaches. “No keyboard?”
“Not tonight,” Baekhyun shakes his head and holds up his MP3. “Didn’t really have time to practice.”
Joonmyun smiles as he plugs the device in. The smile wavers, however, when he sees the song title. “Baekhyun…”
“Just for tonight, hyung. I need to get it off my chest. I could censor myself if need be, I -”
“No, it’s not that, it’s…” Joonmyun gives him this look, some mix of fear and regret and confusion, and his eyes drift over Baekhyun’s shoulder. Baekhyun turns around and doesn’t see what Joonmyun’s looking at until -
Chanyeol’s pulling a confused and frustrated Kris towards the exit. His girlfriend follows reluctantly along, tangling her arms with Kris’s as Chanyeol explains something; Baekhyun can’t hear what he’s saying but it sounds a little desperate, kinda like how Chanyeol was when he appeared at Baekhyun’s front door. He knew.
“Baekhyun, maybe -”
“Just play the music when I say so, hyung,” Baekhyun says, cutting Joonmyun off from whatever he was about to say. Just let me do this.
Baekhyun readies himself before stepping onto the stage, eyes trained on where Kris is pulling away from Chanyeol and choosing a table right in front of the stage. Baekhyun catches Chanyeol’s eyes, catches the words I’m sorry before Chanyeol’s pushing out the door.
His hands shake a little as he adjusts the angle of the mic. He licks his lips, looks over at Joonmyun and nods his head. The first few chords of the piano filters through the speakers and Baekhyun closes his eyes, hands gripping the microphone tightly for support.
I want you to know,
that I’m happy for you.
I wish nothing but
the best for you both.
He blinks his eyes open slowly, lazily, and looks Kris dead in the face. He waits for the crippling insecurity, the red-hot feeling of hate and jealousy and regret to rush through him. Instead he feels nothing but the steady beat of the drums in the background.
He keeps his eyes locked with Kris’s and it’s like some kind of challenge. I dare you to look away first. Kris watches him silently, his face stone blank and hands palms down on the table.
It was a slap in the face
how quickly I was replaced.
Are you thinking of me
when you fuck her?
The lyrics are coming out sharper now, the words cutting as Baekhyun nearly yells them into the mic. The cafe is quiet after he’s done before a gentle crescendo of applause welcomes him as he walks down the steps. Joonmyun hands him his MP3 and pats him on the shoulder. “Did it work?” he asks.
“Yeah,” Baekhyun says, wiping the back of his hand along the side of his face. His heart is pumping but it’s not from any particular emotion other than the thrill of singing on a stage again. He feels… nothing. “I think it worked.”
“I’m glad,” Joonmyun says smiling. He walks closer and envelopes Baekhyun in a warm hug. It’s nice to have a shoulder to press his cheeks against.
“I need to go clean up,” Baekhyun says. His eyes feel wet but he’s sure it’s not from tears. “I feel kind of gross.”
Joonmyun laughs and shakes his head. “You look fine. But go freshen up, your hair’s kind of…” he dwindles off, hand reaching up and brushing aside Baekhyun’s bangs. Baekhyun jerks back perhaps a little too quickly and Joonmyun drops his hands.
“I’ll see you later, hyung,” Baekhyun says quickly, grabbing his jacket and walking towards the bathroom.
He doesn’t see Kris whispering to his girlfriend and standing up, eyes trained on Baekhyun’s back the whole time.
--
He’s barely two step into the bathroom when he feels someone push him inside, the door slamming shut but he barely registers it as hands grip his elbows, and someone’s pinning him against the wall.
“What was that, huh?” Kris is standing before him, face twisted into something like rage and confusion as he stares down at Baekhyun. “You think this is a joke?”
“Yeah, it’s fucking hilarious,” Baekhyun grits out. Seeing Kris like this, eyes flickering angrily over his face and breath coming out too fast to be normal, doesn’t surprise him; perhaps he expected this to happen, wanted it to happen. “You should’ve seen your face -”
Kris pulls away and drags Baekhyun along with him. He shoves him into one of the vacant stalls, and it hits Baekhyun then how empty the restroom is. The stall door closes with enough force to rattle the sides.
The wall feels cold against his back even through the layers of his jacket when Baekhun presses up against it, Kris standing so close to him their toes touch. “What the fuck was that out there?” he hisses. “Do you know what kind of mess you’ve thrown me into now -”
“Mess?” Baekhyun laughs, almost hysterical, because this is fucking hilarious and pathetic all at once. “You’re a mess? Where have you been the past few months? Have you even looked at me once?”
“You know we’re -”
“You left me,” Baekhyun nearly screams. Kris’s eyes widen and his hold on Baekhyun’s shoulder slacken a little. “You left me. You left me without an explanation and you fucked me over. I was the mess, Kris, I couldn’t go outside for days, I couldn’t talk to my friends, you ruined it for me.”
Anger bubbles beneath his skin because this is the first time in months since Kris talked to him last, since Kris has even spent a second looking in his direction, and here he is, expression bewildered as if he hadn’t expected Baekhyun to be this broken, this torn over the break-up.
“Baekhyun -”
“So how is she, huh, Kris?” Baekhyun asks, breathless, and he knows he’s overstepping a line right now. His hands reach up and grab Kris’s neck, pulling him down so Baekhyun can press his lips against his ear. “Does she feel as good as me?”
He feels Kris’s shoulder stiffen, his whole body going rigid against him but he presses forward, wants to see how far he can push this boundary, who will crack first.
“I bet she doesn’t know what you like,” Baekhyun says. Kris steps forward and they’re chest to chest now. “Bet she doesn’t even know how to suck a good cock -”
His shoulder blades suddenly dig into the wall as Kris slams him against it. A thigh is shoved between his legs, Kris’s knee settling right below his crotch as he grabs Baekhyun’s hands and pins them above his head. Kris’s face is inches from his and his pupils are blown, eyes wide and blazing.
“You think you can do better?” he growls, moving his thigh higher until he’s rubbing against Baekhyun’s obvious erection. He holds back a groan, bites his lips and fights it because he isn’t about to give Kris the satisfaction of knowing he’s getting him off. “Fucking prove it then.”
Hands are pushing down on his shoulders, and Baekhyun’s knees bang against the tiled floors. He winces a little but Kris cards his hand through his hair, fingers twisting in the dark locks and gripping tight.
Baekhyun rubs at Kris’s erection through his jeans, before tugging at the zippers and mouthing at his dick through his boxers. He sees the wet spot where the head is, and he pulls the boxer down. Kris is almost fully hard, and Baekhyun wastes no time licking along the shaft, fingers pressing feather light touches where his mouth hasn’t reached yet.
“Fuck, stop teasing,” Kris says, tugging at Baekhyun’s hair. Baekhyun glares at him and sucks gently on the head, tongue prodding at the slit.
“Do you beg like this for her, hm?” Baekhyun asks. Before Kris can even comprehend his question, Baekhyun slides him into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressed against the underside of his dick. He can feel Kris’s body trembling and he sucks, cheeks hollowing as he rubs with his hand where his mouth can’t reach.
Kris has the back of his hand pressed against his mouth, eyebrows furrowed as he muffled his moan. He drops his hand when Baekhyun stops sucking and pulls away, catching his breath as he licks around the head. “Who said I’m begging,” Kris says, breath harsh.
“You will be,” Baekhyun says. He hums as he take Kris into his mouth again and the vibrations has Kris bracing his hand on the wall, his other one still grasping the hairs on the back of Baekhyun’s neck. His hips start thrusting shallowly, and Baekhyun lets his jaws go slack. Kris takes this as his cue and starts thrusting in earnest, the tip of his dick pushing into Baekhyun’s throat and he gags a little.
“Sorry,” Kris mutters, fingers scratching soothingly against Baekhyun’s scalp. Baekhyun ignores him and presses forward as far as he can go and swallows. Kris practically yells, and then he’s tugging Baekhyun off his dick and dragging him up.
“Suck,” he says, pressing two fingers of his left hand against Baekhyun’s lips. His mouth feels sticky with precome but he parts his lips, and Kris presses his fingers against his tongue. His other hand goes to work on Baekhyun’s jean zippers and buttons. “The wetter you make them, the easier it’ll be, yeah?”
Baekhyun can’t help the sting of nostalgia that hits him, even as Kris slips another finger into his mouth. It’s like a flashback from six months ago, when Kris would tie his hands against the headboard and fuck him four fingers deep until Baekhyun’s practically sobbing for his release.
But this isn’t six months ago. This isn’t about Kris and Baekhyun anymore. This is Kris pulling Baekhyun’s jeans down along with his briefs and the only connection between them is Kris’s fingers in Baekhyun’s mouth and on Baekhyun’s dick.
“Is this what you were going after?” Kris says, mouth pressed against Baekhyun’s ear. He pulls his fingers out, and Baekhyun finds himself flipped around and his chest pressed against the wall. Kris kicks at his ankles and he spreads his legs as far he can. “Wanted a quick fuck or something like that?”
Baekhyun chokes back a sob as Kris presses two fingers against his entrance and slips in just a bit before pulling out. “Fuck you,” he rasps, knuckles bruising from where he’s pressing his fists against the wall.
Kris shoves the two fingers in without pretense, and Baekhyun can feel the curve of his smirk against his shoulder as he lurches forward, his forehead pressing against the cold tiled wall and fingernails scratching over the grout. “You first,” Kris says, teeth catching onto his earlobe and pulling.
Baekhyun huffs. “You’ve -ah -always been so lame,” he gasps as Kris crooks his fingers in just the right way, the tips of his fingers brushing against his prostate. It’s too much and not enough at the same time. He’s sure if it weren’t for Kris’s arm around his waist he’d be slipping onto the floor right now.
“Hurry,” he pleads, now pushing back onto Kris’s fingers and trying to get them deeper. “Just - god, fuck me already.”
“Who’s begging now?” Kris chuckles but he’s breathless and by the way his fingers dig into his waist, Baekhyun knows he can’t hold out much longer either. There’s the ruffling of Kris pushing his jeans and boxers further down. He pulls his fingers out, and Baekhyun whines at the emptiness but suddenly Kris is pressing closer against him, sandwiching him between the wall and his body. He reaches down and hooks a hand underneath Baekhyun’s right knee and lifts his leg up, pinning it against the wall.
“I - I didn’t bring -” he starts but Baekhyun just grinds back against him, frustrated and desperate.
“It’s not like we’ve never done it before,” he snaps. Kris pauses briefly before he hikes Baekhyun’s leg further up. Baekhyun hears the slick noise of Kris wetting his dick with spit and precome. He braces himself against the wall, eyes squeezing shut when he feels the blunt head press against him.
It hurts, how raw Kris enters him. It’s slow and Baekhyun blinks back the tears as he feels the stretch with every centimeter Kris pushes in. “Oh fuck fuck fuck,” he gasps, fingers digging for purchase against the wall only to end up slipping down.
Kris doesn’t stop; he keeps pushing until he’s seated all the way, his breath hot against Baekhyun’s neck. His other hand finds Baekhyun’s against the wall and he locks their fingers together, pinning Baekhyun’s hand higher above his head.
They stay like that, Kris holding Baekhyun against the wall by his leg and Baekhyun trying to relax so that the Kris can move. “It’s been a while, huh,” Kris hums.
“What do you think, asshole,” Baekhyun says through clenched teeth. He breathes in through his nose, hand squeezing Kris’s fingers between his.
Kris shifts and slowly pulls out before thrusting forward. Baekhyun lets out a sigh, feels the faint buzz of pleasure beneath the dull pain as he lets out barely audible whimpers.
The pace quickens and soon Kris lets go of Baekhyun’s leg to wrap an arm around his waist. The leg remains trapped in its position, and Baekhyun can feel a bruise forming from where his knee is pressed against the wall but he can hardly focus on that now, not when Kris is pounding into him. Baekhyun feels like his lungs are going to collapse and he leans back, resting his head on Kris’s shoulder as Kris mouth along his neck and jaw, biting softly on his shoulder.
“Fuck - faster just - please,” Baekhyun moans, all sense of self preservation thrown out the window as he grinds down in time to meet Kris’s thrusts.
“God, Baekhyun, you -” Kris pants, his lips pressed right against Baekhyun’s ear as he grips Baekhyun’s waist with both hands and shifts his angle just right-
“There, oh fuck, right there, yes,” Baekhyun gasps, head falling forward again. His bangs are wet with sweat and his shirt is sticking to his chest. He moves one hand down to jerk himself but Kris grabs it and pins it back against the wall. “No touching,” he breathes and Baekhyun can’t even snap back as Kris pounds into his prostate.
Kris pulls out suddenly, and Baekhyun feels him come all over the inside of his thigh. He sighs, his own dick still hard and desperate to be touched. Kris drags his fingers through the mess on Baekhyun’s thigh before pressing three fingers back inside him, crooking and searching as his other hand sneaks around and fists Baekhyun’s cock.
“Shit, Kris, oh my god,” he breaks off with a choke when Kris rubs insistently against his prostate while jerking him off. “I -I’m -”
“Come,” Kris mutters, tongue laving over where he bit down so hard on Baekhyun’s shoulder a bruise has bloomed under his milky skin.
Baekhyun comes so hard he momentarily blacks out. When he comes to, he’s still being held up by Kris whose arms are wrapped around his stomach. He waits for his breath to slow down but his heart is still racing as he struggles out of Kris’s hold.
“Let go of me,” he says lowly, a sob threatening to break through.
“Baekhyun -”
“No!” Baekhyun twists away and he knows he looks ridiculous, jeans twisted up around his ankles and the collar of his shirt drenched with sweat and hair a mess. “I was getting over you! I am over you; tonight, I was going to forget about you but you had to come in here and fuck everything up just like you always do.”
Kris looks at him bewildered, hands held awkwardly between them as if he wants to reach over but Baekhyun knows he can never do that. He won’t let him.
He pulls his jeans up, wincing at the mess, face flushed as he unlocks the stall and rushes out. He doesn’t manage to get very far before Kris grabs his elbow and pulls him back. “Baekhyun, listen to me -”
Baekhyun whips around and before he can raise a hand to punch Kris in the chest, Kris rushes forward and captures his lips with his, hands cupping his jaw. Baekhyun freezes and his mind is going into overdrive; before he can tell himself stop, he’s pressing closer, lips parting desperately beneath Kris’s prodding and letting out a shaky moan that Kris swallows when Kris curls his tongue against his.
“I fucking hate you,” Baekhyun whimpers against Kris’s lips. Kris shushes him, and Baekhyun can see the trembling in his smile and the way his eyes glitter with unshed tears. His own cheeks feel wet. “You’re an asshole and I hate you.”
“I know,” Kris says, lips pressing kisses from the soft skin under his eye and down his cheek. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I was stupid, I thought…” He stops right over Baekhyun’s mouth again, their lips just barely brushing. “With all your projects and me graduating soon… I wasn’t sure if you wanted me anymore.”
Baekhyun just stares at him, and Kris yelps when he feels a sharp pinch on his stomach. “You idiot, I get to decide whether I want you or not.”
Kris laughs, breathless with relief as he pulls Baekhyun closer and hugs him tight. Baekhyun tucks his face into his neck, hands fisting onto Kris’s shirt.
“All that mess I caused, everything, I’m going to make it up to you,” Kris mumbles against his shoulder, hand soothing down Baekhyun’s back.
“Good,” Baekhyun replies and then pulls away before gesturing towards Kris’s general state of post-sex disarray. “First, fix this mess.”
A/N: i had no idea how to end this so apologies for that. also op i'm really glad you liked it!