For Prompt #88: Obscene Odes
Username: anonymous
Prompt #: 88
Length: 3,000 words
Rating:NC-17
Warnings: brief allusion to dropping out of college
Summary: Minseok's first day at his Hysterical Literature internship starts out with an Allen Ginsberg-loving surprise named Baekhyun.
Author's Note: Prompter! Thank you for such a cool idea! I hope I did justice to the art of the original project.
Also, there was a less than favorable word in the first line of the poem, so I took it out. You can read the whole poem (and you should!) here: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/179381
Minseok settles into his new workspace and adjusts the camera settings for the fifth time. He shouldn’t really touch the white balance, since he’ll just have to readjust it once someone sits down at the table, but he’s worried that having nothing for his hands to do will make him spontaneously combust. Besides, idle hands are the devil’s playground--or something like that.
He’s just tweaking the focal length a teeny bit (which he’s not supposed to do) when he hears the door open. The viewfinder is flooded with white before it adapts, allowing Minseok to see a distinctly male figure framed by light. His hips are wide, begging to be gripped, and his thighs look like a perfect playground for dancing fingers and lips.
“Hey, is this the right room?” The voice is sure of itself, even through the questioning tone, and Minseok swallows thickly before looking up. He hadn’t exactly been expecting a guy.
“Yeah, it is,” he says as coolly as he can, and walks towards the man lingering in the doorway. “My name is Minseok,” he holds out his hand. “I’ll be filming you today.”
A delicate grip envelops his hand and the man smiles, something between a smirk and a grin. “My name is Baekhyun, I’ll be filmed today.”
Minseok fights off a nervous flush and motions at the table and its accompanying chair, hoping he doesn’t have to use words again. Baekhyun understands, thankfully, and sits down, after setting his bag down on a chair near the door. This gig didn’t seem nearly as intimidating when he thought it would just be women. Easy, he’s not attracted to women so he won’t get distracted. This Baekhyun character, though, is a curveball.
Still, Minseok knows he has to be professional. He fiddles with the white balance again and furrows his brow very purposefully. This way he looks focused, so Baekhyun won’t notice the slight twitch of his fingers as they work over the various dials. Settings satisfactory, Minseok turns back to face the table and its occupant.
“So, all you have to do is sign this form and we can get started.” He casually tosses a sheet at the table and watches, grimacing, as it doesn’t even come close and floats to the floor. “Right, sorry, here,” he says as he bends over and delivers the waiver properly.
Baekhyun just chuckles, as if he’s used to people acting like idiots around him, and snags a pen from a table just out of the frame. He scans the form and signs his name with a flourish, giving Minseok that same confusing smile-thing when he hands it back.
Looking it over, Minseok sees that Baekhyun has blocky, round handwriting and--for some reason--files that detail away like it’ll be important later. It won’t, he reminds himself, and shakes his head to try to clear it.
“So, Baekhyun,” he starts, and clears his throat to hopefully regain some of his composure. “The next part is the, uh…” Minseok trails off. His boss had told him there would be a few guys here and there, but Minseok hadn’t really paid attention to the instructions for that whole situation. It made him too jittery.
“The warm-up, yeah. I think I see the massager over there.” He points and Minseok starts at his already-better knowledge of this whole procedure. Baekhyun notices and adds, “It was all on the preliminary forms that I had to read outside.” He follows with a polite nod and folds his hands in his lap, waiting.
Minseok sees the prostate massager exactly where Baekhyun had pointed, and some lube handily placed right next to it. He’s not sure how he missed it, the thing is bright blue and has a huge suction cup on the base. Toy and lube in hand, Minseok walks back and gingerly sets them down on the table, then stiffly motions at a small curtained-off area.
Baekhyun swipes the lube and shoots Minseok a lecherous grin before disappearing behind the curtain. Moments later, a belt clinks as it hits the ground. Some familiar squelching noises follow, and Minseok would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little aroused. He studiously ignores the low moan that falls into the near-silence, allowing himself only a tight breath in before he goes back to his Professional Intern State.
The metal rod squeals as the curtain is thrown open, and Minseok resists the urge to whip his head around at the noise. Instead, he slowly looks up and does his best to feign polite disinterest. Baekhyun is still wearing his shirt and boxers, keeping one hand over the obvious tent in the front. His face is flushed, but not out of any sort of embarrassment. He eyes the massager with a mischievous glint as he stands next to the table. Minseok would be surprised, but he’s already here and signed up to do this whole thing. Doesn’t make sense for him to be ashamed.
Minseok coughs and says, “So, you can position the massager on the chair wherever it’s most comfortable for you.” Baekhyun nods and reaches for the blue machine, careful to grab the attached battery pack too. Minseok continues, “Try not to have it too far forward, though, so you’re not leaning the whole time.”
Baekhyun acknowledges him with a nod as he sets up the toy. He looks to Minseok for approval, and after getting a thumbs-up he turns to sit down. Minseok fears he’s visibly sweating, so under the guise of not making Baekhyun uncomfortable he scoots back to the break area and grabs a plastic cup of water. He’s turned his back to he can’t see Baekhyun when he settles down onto the massager and a groan inevitably slips out.
Bracing himself, Minseok throws out the cup and goes back to the filming area. Baekhyun is seated, looking very pleased with himself. Clearing his throat again, Minseok falls into the spiel he’s already memorized. “I’ll turn the camera on and point at you, then all you have to say is your name, what you’re reading, and just go for it. Good?”
At Baekhyun’s nod, Minseok presses the big red REC button and starts the countdown. Three fingers, two fingers, one finger, and then Baekhyun’s voice is spilling into the silence.
“My name is Baekhyun, and today I’ll be reading an excerpt of Allen Ginsberg’s ‘Howl.’”
Minseok smiles to himself. He hadn’t expected that, hadn’t even spared a glance for the small book Baekhyun had set on the table earlier. It’s a hard poem to read out loud, and his chest nearly swells in pride before he stops himself from thinking about it too much.
He digs a remote out from his pocket and waves it above the camera to warn Baekhyun. The massager starts humming low as it vibrates and Baekhyun stiffens before clearing his throat and returning to the book in his hands.
“I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness…” Baekhyun groans, rocks backwards, continues. “Starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the streets at dawn looking for an angry fix.”
Minseok steps away from the camera, satisfied that the framing and settings are perfect. He’s supposed to leave now so that the subject is more comfortable. As much as he’d love to stay and watch this stranger come apart, he can’t. Throwing a wave over his shoulder, Minseok returns to the break area that’s waiting behind a separator. He has his own book waiting for him, and he hopes it will distract him enough from the poetry he can still hear.
“Angelheaded hipsters--fuck--burning for the ancient heavenly connection…” Minseok’s breath hitches as Baekhyun drawls out a long, low groan. His book is shaking in his hands, imagining how Baekhyun’s small volume must be doing the same. It’s terrible, but if Minseok could, he’d turn the massager up to the highest setting.
Instead, he quietly repositions his chair so he can peek over at Baekhyun, who’s practically writhing only a few lines into his poem.
“To the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,” Baekhyun is continuing. Minseok allows himself the small pleasure of eyeballing Baekhyun’s form. He’s lithe, toned enough to convey strength, but maintains a softness that makes him utterly... grippable.
His gaze lingers on Baekhyun’s hips. From this vantage point, Minseok can see the smooth skin of Baekhyun’s side, can see his hipbone jutting out while he sits. He’s thankful that the table obscures everything else, not trusting himself to keep his eyes away.
Baekhyun’s nails are doing their best to dig crescents into the table as he breathes out “who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats” in one fell swoop. His breathing quickens; Minseok watches the sensation pulse through his veins.
“Floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,” comes the next phrase, Baekhyun finally pausing after the gentle hiss of jazz. He takes a deep, shuddering breath and closes his eyes.
When Baekhyun opens his eyes and stares back at the camera, Minseok startles. He can feel the intensity from over here, and the moment starts to take on an entirely different air.
With more clarity than Minseok has heard him speak with so far, Baekhyun slips the next line into the studio’s thickening air. “Who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tenement roofs illuminated,” and here he pauses before divulging more. Baekhyun’s eyes soften and his shoulders lower as he visibly relaxes.
The next line flows out of him, easy, but his face looks a touch too solemn. Minseok supposes it fits the poem, but Baekhyun’s connection to it is clear on his face. An odd calm comes over him, and though his arousal is still obvious, there’s a distinct tone shift.
“Who were expelled from the academies for crazy and publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull,” he says. His face smoothes out as if he’d just confessed some great and horrible sin. Minseok gets the feeling that he did.
The lewd look never quite comes back to Baekhyun’s eyes, but Minseok can’t say that the man isn’t enjoying himself. He leans back and recites the next line without looking at the worn volume on the table.
"Who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear," he smiles. "Burning their money in wastebaskets and listening to the Terror through the wall." Baekhyun comes back to the book, but not before glancing over at Minseok, who is clearly peeking around the partition to watch. Minseok ducks behind and blushes, going back to his own book.
The words in front of him blend together as Minseok chooses to use his ears instead of his eyes. He can't see Baekhyun now but he can imagine the way his lips are wrapping around Ginsberg's words, making the language that much more intoxicating.
He tries to shake himself of what's quickly becoming a crush, remembering that this is his job and this was never supposed to come close to happening. Baekhyun wasn't at all what he expected out of this gig.
Breathy recitations have Minseok snapping his attention back to Baekhyun, whose hips are obviously rocking back and forth.
“With dreams," he gasps, “with drugs,” and a bit of that foxlike smile comes back to his face. Minseok is breathing heavily himself now. He can tell the poem and its reader are both reaching a peak.
“With waking nightmares, with alcohol and cock and endless balls,” and he chuckles around a groan. A sheen of sweat on his forehead finally breaks into beads. Minseok follows a drop as it traces the side of Baekhyun’s face, from temple to cheekbone to jaw.
“Incomparable blind streets--shit shit shit--of shuddering cloud and… and…” Baekhyun gives up on finishing the line as he comes, hot and bothered and close to breaking. It’s awfully cliche, Minseok knows, but Baekhyun is seriously beautiful like this. He thinks back to why he took this internship, about how he’s always thought the unbridled expression of sexuality can be awe-inspiring. It had felt like bullshit when he wrote it on his application, but Baekhyun is reminding him that he does actually think so.
Minseok has been speechless since the guy walked in--seeing him reach such an intense high has all but stolen Minseok’s tongue. He starts as he remembers that he’s supposed to help Baekhyun get cleaned up and decent after he turns off the camera. The chair makes a tiny noise as its legs drag on the floor and Baekhyun’s eyes crack open. His chest is heaving and he lets out a laugh-turned-moan.
He looks into the camera and says, “The full poem is great, you all should go read it.” Minseok suppresses a laugh as he walks over to the tripod and turns the camera off. Behind him is the supply shelf, where he spots towels and water bottles. He tosses one of each to Baekhyun, mainly because he knows he’d be tempted to look if he got too close.
Baekhyun catches the bottle and lets the towel flop onto the table, opting for a drink first. He smiles at Minseok, so cavalier, like he hadn’t just had a loud orgasm while Minseok pretended to not pay attention. Like he didn’t still have a prostate massager inside him. He wipes himself clean and stands up to fix that problem. Minseok looks away politely and wonders if this boy has any shame at all.
Minseok is still avoiding looking at Baekhyun when he hears, “Hey, I know this is kinda weird, but would you wanna go out for dinner tonight?” Weird is a bit of an understatement.
“I just watched you come after only learning your name an hour ago, and now you wanna go on a date?” It falls out of his mouth, he can’t help it. Minseok is incredulous. He’d thought it wasn’t obvious that he found Baekhyun attractive. Even if it was obvious, Baekhyun is being pretty forward.
“Yeah, sure,” he says with a shrug. He’s still not wearing any pants but at least he’s pulled his boxers up. Half of Minseok is desperate to say yes, to learn more about this ball of sensuality and odd vulnerability--but half of him is worried. What if Baekhyun is only looking for a bit of fun? Minseok wouldn’t mind that, but Baekhyun has some strange allure and one night might not sate Minseok’s curiosity.
He realizes he’s overthinking it. “Okay,” he says. “You were the only person scheduled for today, so sure.” Baekhyun smiles back. It’s a charming smile, kind of shaped like a rectangle. Heat drips down Minseok’s spine when he has the bad fortune to notice Baekhyun’s sharp canines. A one-night stand definitely wouldn’t be so bad.
“I just have to clean things up before we leave,” he adds. Baekhyun nods and scurries to the curtained-off area to get his pants. While Baekhyun watches, sipping from his water bottle, Minseok sanitizes the table and chair, then cleans the bright blue toy exactly according to guidelines. He feels amused eyes following his actions and can’t help but get a little clumsy.
He’s dropped the manilla file of waivers twice now and will definitely have to reorder them on his next shift. Hopefully no one notices. Baekhyun snickers from his spot in the corner and Minseok waves a hand to silence him. It doesn’t work.
Nimble fingers grab the papers that are out of Minseok’s reach and hand them over. Minseok accepts them with a quiet thanks and finally finishes tidying everything up. He’s got his bag and his book and his phone and his wallet and now he’s got Baekhyun. Warm, perplexing, unusual Baekhyun.
As they exit the nondescript building, a thought strikes Minseok. He turns and asks, “So, why did you choose Howl?” It seems innocent enough, but next to him Baekhyun is flushing a deep red. Oh, so now he blushes, Minseok thinks, rolling his eyes inwardly. Great.
Prompt #: 88
Length: 3,000 words
Rating:NC-17
Warnings: brief allusion to dropping out of college
Summary: Minseok's first day at his Hysterical Literature internship starts out with an Allen Ginsberg-loving surprise named Baekhyun.
Author's Note: Prompter! Thank you for such a cool idea! I hope I did justice to the art of the original project.
Also, there was a less than favorable word in the first line of the poem, so I took it out. You can read the whole poem (and you should!) here: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/179381
Minseok settles into his new workspace and adjusts the camera settings for the fifth time. He shouldn’t really touch the white balance, since he’ll just have to readjust it once someone sits down at the table, but he’s worried that having nothing for his hands to do will make him spontaneously combust. Besides, idle hands are the devil’s playground--or something like that.
He’s just tweaking the focal length a teeny bit (which he’s not supposed to do) when he hears the door open. The viewfinder is flooded with white before it adapts, allowing Minseok to see a distinctly male figure framed by light. His hips are wide, begging to be gripped, and his thighs look like a perfect playground for dancing fingers and lips.
“Hey, is this the right room?” The voice is sure of itself, even through the questioning tone, and Minseok swallows thickly before looking up. He hadn’t exactly been expecting a guy.
“Yeah, it is,” he says as coolly as he can, and walks towards the man lingering in the doorway. “My name is Minseok,” he holds out his hand. “I’ll be filming you today.”
A delicate grip envelops his hand and the man smiles, something between a smirk and a grin. “My name is Baekhyun, I’ll be filmed today.”
Minseok fights off a nervous flush and motions at the table and its accompanying chair, hoping he doesn’t have to use words again. Baekhyun understands, thankfully, and sits down, after setting his bag down on a chair near the door. This gig didn’t seem nearly as intimidating when he thought it would just be women. Easy, he’s not attracted to women so he won’t get distracted. This Baekhyun character, though, is a curveball.
Still, Minseok knows he has to be professional. He fiddles with the white balance again and furrows his brow very purposefully. This way he looks focused, so Baekhyun won’t notice the slight twitch of his fingers as they work over the various dials. Settings satisfactory, Minseok turns back to face the table and its occupant.
“So, all you have to do is sign this form and we can get started.” He casually tosses a sheet at the table and watches, grimacing, as it doesn’t even come close and floats to the floor. “Right, sorry, here,” he says as he bends over and delivers the waiver properly.
Baekhyun just chuckles, as if he’s used to people acting like idiots around him, and snags a pen from a table just out of the frame. He scans the form and signs his name with a flourish, giving Minseok that same confusing smile-thing when he hands it back.
Looking it over, Minseok sees that Baekhyun has blocky, round handwriting and--for some reason--files that detail away like it’ll be important later. It won’t, he reminds himself, and shakes his head to try to clear it.
“So, Baekhyun,” he starts, and clears his throat to hopefully regain some of his composure. “The next part is the, uh…” Minseok trails off. His boss had told him there would be a few guys here and there, but Minseok hadn’t really paid attention to the instructions for that whole situation. It made him too jittery.
“The warm-up, yeah. I think I see the massager over there.” He points and Minseok starts at his already-better knowledge of this whole procedure. Baekhyun notices and adds, “It was all on the preliminary forms that I had to read outside.” He follows with a polite nod and folds his hands in his lap, waiting.
Minseok sees the prostate massager exactly where Baekhyun had pointed, and some lube handily placed right next to it. He’s not sure how he missed it, the thing is bright blue and has a huge suction cup on the base. Toy and lube in hand, Minseok walks back and gingerly sets them down on the table, then stiffly motions at a small curtained-off area.
Baekhyun swipes the lube and shoots Minseok a lecherous grin before disappearing behind the curtain. Moments later, a belt clinks as it hits the ground. Some familiar squelching noises follow, and Minseok would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little aroused. He studiously ignores the low moan that falls into the near-silence, allowing himself only a tight breath in before he goes back to his Professional Intern State.
The metal rod squeals as the curtain is thrown open, and Minseok resists the urge to whip his head around at the noise. Instead, he slowly looks up and does his best to feign polite disinterest. Baekhyun is still wearing his shirt and boxers, keeping one hand over the obvious tent in the front. His face is flushed, but not out of any sort of embarrassment. He eyes the massager with a mischievous glint as he stands next to the table. Minseok would be surprised, but he’s already here and signed up to do this whole thing. Doesn’t make sense for him to be ashamed.
Minseok coughs and says, “So, you can position the massager on the chair wherever it’s most comfortable for you.” Baekhyun nods and reaches for the blue machine, careful to grab the attached battery pack too. Minseok continues, “Try not to have it too far forward, though, so you’re not leaning the whole time.”
Baekhyun acknowledges him with a nod as he sets up the toy. He looks to Minseok for approval, and after getting a thumbs-up he turns to sit down. Minseok fears he’s visibly sweating, so under the guise of not making Baekhyun uncomfortable he scoots back to the break area and grabs a plastic cup of water. He’s turned his back to he can’t see Baekhyun when he settles down onto the massager and a groan inevitably slips out.
Bracing himself, Minseok throws out the cup and goes back to the filming area. Baekhyun is seated, looking very pleased with himself. Clearing his throat again, Minseok falls into the spiel he’s already memorized. “I’ll turn the camera on and point at you, then all you have to say is your name, what you’re reading, and just go for it. Good?”
At Baekhyun’s nod, Minseok presses the big red REC button and starts the countdown. Three fingers, two fingers, one finger, and then Baekhyun’s voice is spilling into the silence.
“My name is Baekhyun, and today I’ll be reading an excerpt of Allen Ginsberg’s ‘Howl.’”
Minseok smiles to himself. He hadn’t expected that, hadn’t even spared a glance for the small book Baekhyun had set on the table earlier. It’s a hard poem to read out loud, and his chest nearly swells in pride before he stops himself from thinking about it too much.
He digs a remote out from his pocket and waves it above the camera to warn Baekhyun. The massager starts humming low as it vibrates and Baekhyun stiffens before clearing his throat and returning to the book in his hands.
“I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness…” Baekhyun groans, rocks backwards, continues. “Starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the streets at dawn looking for an angry fix.”
Minseok steps away from the camera, satisfied that the framing and settings are perfect. He’s supposed to leave now so that the subject is more comfortable. As much as he’d love to stay and watch this stranger come apart, he can’t. Throwing a wave over his shoulder, Minseok returns to the break area that’s waiting behind a separator. He has his own book waiting for him, and he hopes it will distract him enough from the poetry he can still hear.
“Angelheaded hipsters--fuck--burning for the ancient heavenly connection…” Minseok’s breath hitches as Baekhyun drawls out a long, low groan. His book is shaking in his hands, imagining how Baekhyun’s small volume must be doing the same. It’s terrible, but if Minseok could, he’d turn the massager up to the highest setting.
Instead, he quietly repositions his chair so he can peek over at Baekhyun, who’s practically writhing only a few lines into his poem.
“To the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,” Baekhyun is continuing. Minseok allows himself the small pleasure of eyeballing Baekhyun’s form. He’s lithe, toned enough to convey strength, but maintains a softness that makes him utterly... grippable.
His gaze lingers on Baekhyun’s hips. From this vantage point, Minseok can see the smooth skin of Baekhyun’s side, can see his hipbone jutting out while he sits. He’s thankful that the table obscures everything else, not trusting himself to keep his eyes away.
Baekhyun’s nails are doing their best to dig crescents into the table as he breathes out “who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats” in one fell swoop. His breathing quickens; Minseok watches the sensation pulse through his veins.
“Floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,” comes the next phrase, Baekhyun finally pausing after the gentle hiss of jazz. He takes a deep, shuddering breath and closes his eyes.
When Baekhyun opens his eyes and stares back at the camera, Minseok startles. He can feel the intensity from over here, and the moment starts to take on an entirely different air.
With more clarity than Minseok has heard him speak with so far, Baekhyun slips the next line into the studio’s thickening air. “Who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tenement roofs illuminated,” and here he pauses before divulging more. Baekhyun’s eyes soften and his shoulders lower as he visibly relaxes.
The next line flows out of him, easy, but his face looks a touch too solemn. Minseok supposes it fits the poem, but Baekhyun’s connection to it is clear on his face. An odd calm comes over him, and though his arousal is still obvious, there’s a distinct tone shift.
“Who were expelled from the academies for crazy and publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull,” he says. His face smoothes out as if he’d just confessed some great and horrible sin. Minseok gets the feeling that he did.
The lewd look never quite comes back to Baekhyun’s eyes, but Minseok can’t say that the man isn’t enjoying himself. He leans back and recites the next line without looking at the worn volume on the table.
"Who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear," he smiles. "Burning their money in wastebaskets and listening to the Terror through the wall." Baekhyun comes back to the book, but not before glancing over at Minseok, who is clearly peeking around the partition to watch. Minseok ducks behind and blushes, going back to his own book.
The words in front of him blend together as Minseok chooses to use his ears instead of his eyes. He can't see Baekhyun now but he can imagine the way his lips are wrapping around Ginsberg's words, making the language that much more intoxicating.
He tries to shake himself of what's quickly becoming a crush, remembering that this is his job and this was never supposed to come close to happening. Baekhyun wasn't at all what he expected out of this gig.
Breathy recitations have Minseok snapping his attention back to Baekhyun, whose hips are obviously rocking back and forth.
“With dreams," he gasps, “with drugs,” and a bit of that foxlike smile comes back to his face. Minseok is breathing heavily himself now. He can tell the poem and its reader are both reaching a peak.
“With waking nightmares, with alcohol and cock and endless balls,” and he chuckles around a groan. A sheen of sweat on his forehead finally breaks into beads. Minseok follows a drop as it traces the side of Baekhyun’s face, from temple to cheekbone to jaw.
“Incomparable blind streets--shit shit shit--of shuddering cloud and… and…” Baekhyun gives up on finishing the line as he comes, hot and bothered and close to breaking. It’s awfully cliche, Minseok knows, but Baekhyun is seriously beautiful like this. He thinks back to why he took this internship, about how he’s always thought the unbridled expression of sexuality can be awe-inspiring. It had felt like bullshit when he wrote it on his application, but Baekhyun is reminding him that he does actually think so.
Minseok has been speechless since the guy walked in--seeing him reach such an intense high has all but stolen Minseok’s tongue. He starts as he remembers that he’s supposed to help Baekhyun get cleaned up and decent after he turns off the camera. The chair makes a tiny noise as its legs drag on the floor and Baekhyun’s eyes crack open. His chest is heaving and he lets out a laugh-turned-moan.
He looks into the camera and says, “The full poem is great, you all should go read it.” Minseok suppresses a laugh as he walks over to the tripod and turns the camera off. Behind him is the supply shelf, where he spots towels and water bottles. He tosses one of each to Baekhyun, mainly because he knows he’d be tempted to look if he got too close.
Baekhyun catches the bottle and lets the towel flop onto the table, opting for a drink first. He smiles at Minseok, so cavalier, like he hadn’t just had a loud orgasm while Minseok pretended to not pay attention. Like he didn’t still have a prostate massager inside him. He wipes himself clean and stands up to fix that problem. Minseok looks away politely and wonders if this boy has any shame at all.
Minseok is still avoiding looking at Baekhyun when he hears, “Hey, I know this is kinda weird, but would you wanna go out for dinner tonight?” Weird is a bit of an understatement.
“I just watched you come after only learning your name an hour ago, and now you wanna go on a date?” It falls out of his mouth, he can’t help it. Minseok is incredulous. He’d thought it wasn’t obvious that he found Baekhyun attractive. Even if it was obvious, Baekhyun is being pretty forward.
“Yeah, sure,” he says with a shrug. He’s still not wearing any pants but at least he’s pulled his boxers up. Half of Minseok is desperate to say yes, to learn more about this ball of sensuality and odd vulnerability--but half of him is worried. What if Baekhyun is only looking for a bit of fun? Minseok wouldn’t mind that, but Baekhyun has some strange allure and one night might not sate Minseok’s curiosity.
He realizes he’s overthinking it. “Okay,” he says. “You were the only person scheduled for today, so sure.” Baekhyun smiles back. It’s a charming smile, kind of shaped like a rectangle. Heat drips down Minseok’s spine when he has the bad fortune to notice Baekhyun’s sharp canines. A one-night stand definitely wouldn’t be so bad.
“I just have to clean things up before we leave,” he adds. Baekhyun nods and scurries to the curtained-off area to get his pants. While Baekhyun watches, sipping from his water bottle, Minseok sanitizes the table and chair, then cleans the bright blue toy exactly according to guidelines. He feels amused eyes following his actions and can’t help but get a little clumsy.
He’s dropped the manilla file of waivers twice now and will definitely have to reorder them on his next shift. Hopefully no one notices. Baekhyun snickers from his spot in the corner and Minseok waves a hand to silence him. It doesn’t work.
Nimble fingers grab the papers that are out of Minseok’s reach and hand them over. Minseok accepts them with a quiet thanks and finally finishes tidying everything up. He’s got his bag and his book and his phone and his wallet and now he’s got Baekhyun. Warm, perplexing, unusual Baekhyun.
As they exit the nondescript building, a thought strikes Minseok. He turns and asks, “So, why did you choose Howl?” It seems innocent enough, but next to him Baekhyun is flushing a deep red. Oh, so now he blushes, Minseok thinks, rolling his eyes inwardly. Great.