dreaming like a boy (so in love with the wrong world) ; baekyeol
Title: Dreaming like a boy (so in love with the wrong world)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Baekhyun/Chanyeol
Wordcount: 5,510
Warning: sex scene, very slight mentions of torture and death
Disclaimer: EXO belongs to themselves and SME
Notes: Title inspired by Florence and The Machine's Blinding.
Summary: Baekhyun has always been in black and white for Chanyeol, white pages and black ink, and finally black eyes and white skin.
The first time Chanyeol meets Baekhyun, he's eight and confused. He knows what being dead means, but he didn't really know it was also so much more than that. They say what took his mom away is a great game of misfortunes nobody could have stopped, but Chanyeol doesn't understand how that's supposed to ease the pain in his chest and the feeling of loneliness sticking to his skin. He stumbles upon Baekhyun on a starless night, when his whole room is pitch black except for the jagged stains of light his bedroom lamp leaves on the walls, and suddenly, he has all the answers he wants.
Chanyeol clearly remembers the loud beating of his heart when he discovered Baekhyun's character, beautifully spread out in black ink on white pages, the black tattoos around his eyes and the underlying threat in his every movement. Baekhyun's people, the powerful and dangerous Children of the Moon, had almost all been exterminated, and when Jongdae, the actual main character of the book, met Baekhyun, the latter was dancing a poisonous dance with both anger and sadness. Chanyeol's struggles with the Earth still turning when himself felt so out of breath and on the verge of falling all the time suddenly had a voice, and it was Baekhyun's voice. Since that day, Baekhyun's never left him, and Chanyeol has devoured all of his and Jongdae's adventures.
He wrote multiple time to the author of the Exodus serie, but nobody ever answered. He made some research too, but the only thing he actually found out about the writer is that his name, Thunder Light, is a fake name (which wasn't that surprising actually) and that his true identity is jealously kept hidden. His editor never met him in person. People says he's an oddball, Chanyeol says he's a genius.
Growing up following Jongdae and Baekhyun's wanderings across Mapa Mundi, their world, made Chanyeol fall in love with mythical creatures, legends and epic adventures -and also fucking obsessed according to Oh Sehun. He collects all sorts of old grimoires, stargazes on summer nights, and believes in distant universes that only exist in books more than he does in his actual world. It's a pretty common thing for Sehun, his best friend, to have Chanyeol barging in his room with an armful of random and weird stuff, and excited words such as...
“We're gonna meet our soulmates!”
Sehun stops chewing his gum, blows a bubble and lets it pop loudly in his room, for dramatic effects.
“Or you're going to set your eyebrows on fire again.” He pauses. “Which would probably be funnier anyway.”
Sehun keeps his eyes glued to his TV screen, thumbs flying all over the video game controller at the speed of light while loud explosions echo through his room. His obvious lack of enthusiasm doesn't get to Chanyeol, it never does, so he starts setting up the candles on the floor.
“I found this spell on the internet,” he explains, excitation all over his voice while Sehun barely raises an eyebrow at him. “It's supposed to bring us to our soulmates.”
“My soulmate's probably a rich handsome guy,” Sehun says. He cackles evily when he manages to kill a bunch of soldiers thanks to a can of gas. Chanyeol snorts. Sehun's video games always lack of finesse. Who the fuck fights a war next to a row of cans of gas?
“Your soulmate is probably a weird Lord Of The Rings nerd,” Sehun keeps going, eyes narrowing at his screen. Chanyeol stops the preparation to watch Sehun's character trying to run away from a handgrenade. Sehun's not fast enough, of course, and a large game over fills the screen while bloody parts of the character's body fly all over the place.
“Ugh,” Sehun grumbles. He puts the controller away and finally turns his head towards Chanyeol. “Like, when they're not working, they dress in one of those long elf's robes, and they put on the fake ears and do stupid stuff like...” He eyes the candles around Chanyeol, and looks at his best friend. “Like that.”
Chanyeol shrugs.
“I like The Lord Of The Rings.”
“I know you do,” Sehun deadpans.
“Come on,” Chanyeol says. “Help me with the incense.”
Sehun makes a face, but Chanyeol's attention is already back on the candles. Sehun complains a lot, about Chanyeol's stupid love for stupid things, and why the fuck do you act like it's going to work it never does, and Chanyeol babbles about what he's read, what they're supposed to do, what could happen, and oh my god Sehunnie, what if it works?!. Sehun always rolls his eyes at him, and judges Chanyeol extra hard, but he ends up doing the spells with him in the end, and Chanyeol doesn't mind the bitting remarks if it means that he gets to have his best friend trying to speak Latin just to please him.
Sehun glares at Chanyeol when he sets the incense alight before blowing on the flame. There's a thin rope of smoke curling around nothing and going up and up, until it meets the ceiling.
“That thing stinks,” Sehun whines. “It's never your room. Why is it never your room again?”
Chanyeol smiles, making sure to flash his dimple at Sehun, because the puppy eyes always work on his best friend.
“Because if we happen to accidently summon the devil, he'll probably just small chat with you before going back to the darkest pits of hell.”
“That's right,” Sehun nods with a straight face. “Because he already has a VIP lounge with my name on it down there.”
Chanyeol vigorously nods, and Sehun grins, amusement crinkling in the corner of his eyes. Silence comes with the darkness when Sehun switches off the lights, and the more they stare at each other, the thicker it all gets, to the point that Chanyeol struggles to breath in. It's his favorite part, when he gets to forget all the previous spells that failed, when he can't help but feel the hope vibrating in his bones. This one could work, because no matter what Sehun says, there's always a slight chance, isn't it? The world can't be just... that. There has to be more, because if not, it would mean that this feeling of being out of place, like a book put on the wrong shelf, will never go away, and Chanyeol can't have that. He needs to find the key.
Those few seconds before they start the spell are also the only seconds when Sehun loses the bitch face. His eyes are so dark, almost scary with the candles reflecting in them, but to Chanyeol, they're nothing but warm and understanding. It's always during those short seconds that he remembers that Sehun actually read the whole Exodus serie so Chanyeol could talk about it with him. He also reads the new tomes that come out twice a year, and then patiently listens to Chanyeol being hysterical about it. Sure, he complains a lot, but in the end, Sehun is good friend. The best.
“Do we need to hold hand?” Sehun asks, eyeing the geometric shapes Chanyeol drew with a chalp stick on the dark red cloth between them.
Chanyeol eyes the piece of paper with the spell written on it. “It's actually not said?”
“Maybe we shouldn't, the spell's going to believe we are soulmates.”
Chanyeol snorts, handing Sehun his copy of the spell, because they have to recite the words together.
“We can't be soulmates,” he retorts. “Otherwise we would have fallen in love already. I've known you for eight years.”
Sehun throws him a look that Chanyeol can't really make out with the faint light coming from the candles, but with the twitch of Sehun's eyebrows, and the deep sigh his best friend lets out, he takes it as kind of frustrated, with a hint of amusement.
“You're unbelievable,” Sehun sighs, his usual neutral and low voice made lighter with the smile currently pulling at his lips. He lets out another sigh, that he purposely draws out until all the oxygen has left his lungs. “Okay, now brief me. What do we need to do?”
Chanyeol smiles. “Wait 'til it's midnight, and then just say the words in unison.”
“And we'll get to meet our soulmates?”
Chanyeol nods, unaware of the scepticism laced all over Sehun's voice. He wonders where his soulmate lives. Probably not in a big city, because Chanyeol doesn't like skyscrapers, and tiny patches of grass eaten by hard concrete. What kind of music do they like? Do they sing? Play guitar, or piano, or something fancier like, violin? He doesn't really have a type, so everything could work, but the only thing Chanyeol desperatly wants, is the feeling. He want something bigger, he wants the ache in his bones, the strong pull, and the feeling of adventure.
“Thirty seconds 'til midnight,” Sehun informs him, pulling him out of his reverie.
Chanyeol nods for the second time. “We should start.”
He empties his brain, breathes in and starts reading Latin words that don't make sense. He probably messes the pronunciation, and maybe that's why none of the spells they've done worked before, but as his tongue rolls around foreign syllables, Chanyeol finds out he doesn't care. It's the best feeling in the world, drowning in what ifs already so addictive that you could stay there until the end of time. He's hit by all the books he's read, by the movies he's watched and loved, and one by one, they all tear down the limits. For a few seconds, while both he and Sehun are struggling with unusual combinations of letters, it already feels like magic, and it's powerful enough, wonderful enough, to keep the wide grin plastered on Chanyeol's face even though nothing happens after they both look up.
Sehun bites his lips, looks right and left and glances down at his paper. Chanyeol folds his in four.
“Let's watch the Lord Of The Rings” he proposes.
“Okay, but only if it's the Two Towers.”
Chanyeol agrees, and they blow the candles together, throw the incense away and sneak under Sehun's blankets to watch the movie. It's part of the ritual somehow, talking until the first rays of sunshine dye the horizon line with shy pink and fragile orange flowers, or watching their favorite movies, sometimes even reading some books together. To Chanyeol, it's part of the spell, part of the moments that make him feel more alive than ever. But for the first time today, he finds himself unable to focus on the Helm's Deep battle. The air feels electric, suffocating and clingy, like ghost hands gripping his arms every two seconds, and the colors reach his brain faded and out of sync. Maybe he's falling asleep, but it feels more like falling than sleeping, and every time he blinks, there's emptiness and black holes burned onto his eyelids.
“I think you were right, Sehun,” he manages to croak in the haziness that drowns him. “That incense stank pretty bad, I feel nauseous now.”
Sehun doesn't answer, or maybe he does, but Chanyeol is too busy listening to the laugh, smug and mocking, echoing through his mind. He winces at the sound of iron scrapping against stones, swords crossing and heavy chains clashing, and blinks at the TV screen while someone snorts. The TV is off, and Chanyeol can see the Two Towers DVD still on the shelf. Weird, he thinks, and when he turns his head towards Sehun, he realizes they're still on the floor. There's a patch of silvery light next to his hand, painted on the carpet by the moon through the window, and Chanyeol gasps when it starts shifting ever so slightly, until it finally fills his vision with discreet highlights on long strands of ash-colored hair.
“Who are you?”
The voice is melodious, overwhelming. It rings in Chanyeol's ears with a silent promise of hidden intonations and soft sounds, and Chanyeol knows there's more to it, but that's a more that his basic human hearing can't grasp. He's facing a smaller boy, with soft curves, and delicate features, that clash violently with the dark lines swallowing his eyes and the smirk pulling up at his pink lips. His hair is a shade darker than the moon, and Chanyeol can make out the metalic color of the blood running through the boy's carotid artery.
Chanyeol stumbles on his own thoughts, and somehow, the words going past his lips don't sound like the ones he wanted to say.
“Where's Jongdae?” he blurts out.
The boy -Baekhyun- smiles. He doesn't even look surprised at all, and the faint twitch of his eyebrows isn't confused, but dangerous. He's looking at Chanyeol like a predator looks at his prey, the exact same way Chanyeol has pictured all this time and-oh god what is happening.
“Probably trying to rescue me,” Baekhyun answers. He opens his arms, and Chanyeol only sees now the heavy handcuffs around the delicate wrists, and the dark dark chains tying Baekhyun to the wall behind. There are two bodies lying on the ground at Baekhyun's feet, and Chanyeol shivers. They're dead.
“Even though he knows I'm not really the damsel in distress type.”
Chanyeol awkwardly chuckles, and Baekhyun's dark eyes narrow at him, turning his chuckles into weak gargles. Baekhyun is exactly like he's pictured him all these years, and also so much more. Chanyeol remembers adjectives and descriptions, and everything is there, from the dark aura sticking to Baekhyun's skin, with the underlying threat stiffening the air around him, to the grace and the confidence radiating from him. The dark smoke leaving the corner of his eyes in hypnotizing wreaths looks way more intimidating though, and the way the dark lines follow the shape of Baekhyun's eyes is more beautiful than Chanyeol could have ever imagined. In the first Exodus book, Baekhyun tells Jongdae that Children of the Moon get the tattoos around their eyes after their first kill. The shape of it, and the intricate arabesques curling from the corner of their eyes to their temples change according to their personalities and how they behave when they're hunting. It is said that a tattooed Child of the Moon is practically invisible during nighttime, because moonlight can't find their eyes and they get mistaken for simple shadows, so no light shine on them.
“You didn't tell me your name yet,” Baekhyun says. “And how you got in here.”
Chanyeol takes a look around and only then realises they're in what looks like a cell. It's so surreal, from the stone walls to the reinforced rusty door, not to mention the tiny window and the bars cutting the moon in irregular strips of light. It's not the first time he's dreamed about Baekhyun, but it's the first time it feels so real. When he breathes in, the dampness of the cell settles on his tongue, and the pungent smell lingering in the air fills his noise. There's a ferrous aftertaste that burns his throat, something poisonous and drenched with fear that makes him uncomfortable. He never feels uncomfortable in his dreams, he never really sees the lack of details, and how it seems like he's looking at it through a kaleidoscope, but now, it's the absence of black holes that confuses him so much.
The spell crosses his mind before he can stop it, and when he looks down at Baekhyun, now body-searching the soldiers, delicate wrists not even flinching under the weight of the heavy handcuffs, Chanyeol thinks about all those nights spent reading and fearing for Jongdae and Baekhyun, and how hard it was to go back to reality when he was done reading. And it's just a tiny thought in the back of his mind, shy and unsure, but Chanyeol only has eyes for it.
What if...?
“You know, you should answer before I get rid of those chains,” Baekhyun says. He doesn't look up, attention still on the bunch of keys he's now testing on his handcuffs, and his voice is playful, almost mischievous, but Chanyeol knows better. “Or I'll make you answer myself and...” Baekhyun glances at him, smirking. “I'm pretty sure you won't like it.”
He's radiating danger, he's always had, but if it really is Baekhyun, the Byun Baekhyun from the books, he's also so much more than that. Chanyeol has read him through hundreds of pages. He has read him crying over the loss of his people, almost falling over the edge because of his need for revenge, he's read Baekhyun bitter and furious, but also friendly and protective. He spent days thinking about him when Baekhyun had to kill Kwanghee after he and Jongdae found out Kwanghee worked with the bad guys. Baekhyun killed him, deadly and cold, but he spent three hours next to the body afterwards, kissing Kwanghee's eyelids and praying for his soul, like Children of the Moon do when one of them die. Chanyeol knows every aspect of Baekhyun, loves every aspect of him, and really... what if the spell did work...?
The clashing sound of iron crashing against the stone pulls him out of his reverie. Baekhyun is still hunkered next to the bodies, but one of his wrists is now free from the handcuff. He raises one eyebrow at Chanyeol, who gets the hint. Time to start talking.
“It's kind of a long story,” Chanyeol blabbers. “See there was this spell and--”
“You're a wizard?” Baekhyun frowns at him. “You don't look like a wizard. Your clothes are weird.”
Chanyeol glances at his sweat pants and old shirt, wincing. He should have thought about it before the spell. Meeting his soulmate in his pajamas isn't really his most brilliant idea. He looks up at Baekhyun when the second handcuff falls to the floor, and feels himself blushing as Baekhyun stands up, massaging his wrist, his dark eyes staring at his face.
“Yours are-yours are weirder,” he retorts.
There's a second of silence that weighs on Chanyeol like an eternity, before Baekhyun laughs. It's bubbly, cheerful, and so out of place in what Chanyeol supposes is a torture chamber, but the only thing he really does notice is the way it sends sparkles straight to Baekhyun's eyes, narrowing them in the most beautiful eye smile he's ever seen.
“What's your name?” Baekhyun asks him, closing the distance between them with a few steps.
Chanyeol feels so aware of the remaining space between his and Baekhhyun's body, and the air stiffens around him. Baekhyun comes with heavier oxygen atoms, and a fainted smell of grass after a rain storm. He gets closer, and takes over everything, just like the night sky swallows the day, all black, from the clothes to the tattoos around his eyes, but he has the silvery hair for the moon and the faint glowing of his skin for its light.
“Park Chanyeol,” Chanyeol stutters.
“Well, you're one strange wizard, Park Chanyeol.”
“I-I”m not a wizard.”
“Yeah?” Baekhyun asks, in a whisper-like voice. He's only a few inches away now, and Chanyeol may be one head taller, he feels terribly small. “Then what are you?”
Chanyeol shivers when Baekhyun's breath grazes his neck. He is now close enough for Chanyeol to actually see the intricate web of veins spreading under Baekhyun's ghostly skin, and the metallic blood running through them, giving Baekhyun's skin its faint glow. There's never been anything in the books about Baekhyun's nose, so soft and delicate, or his cheekbones; not a word about the mole above his lips or how light his fingers feel on his skin, feather touches that yet clash with the strong feelings they provoke. Chanyeol steps back, but Baekhyun follows, his hands securely wrapped around Chanyeol's forearms.
“I'm just Park Chanyeol,” he lets out with a little yelp when his back hits the wall.
“Just Park Chanyeol,” Baekhyun muses. He smiles. “I think you're more than just Park Chanyeol.”
“I, really, no I'm just-Chanyeol. Chanyeol's my name. Just... that.”
Baekhyun smiles, in that predatory way of his, and cornered with his back against the wall, Chanyeol is back at being his prey. Baekhyun's eyes are following Chanyeol's lips when he talks, amusement obvious in the wrinkles that leave the corner of his eyes, under the black tattoos. He looks infuriatingly smug, the ghost of a laugh pulling up at his lips, and Chanyeol is reminded of Baekhyun's super hearing when he realises how hard his heart is beating against his ribcage.
“Really?” Baekhyun asks, his voice so low that it barely reaches Chanyeol's ears. It does reach his neck though, because Baekhyun is practically talking against his skin, and his breath, along with the proximity of his lips, send shivers down Chanyeol's spine. He gulps, and gasps when he feels Baekhyun's nose grazing his Apple Adam. The touch is almost immediately followed by a burning wetness along Chanyeol's neckline, and he has no trouble picturing Baekhyun's pink tongue on his skin. All the oxygen he swallowed down when he gasped is still in his lungs, turned into carbon dioxide, but still not as suffocating as Baekhyun is.
“You don't taste like a 'just',” Baekhyun says, his lips hovering over Chanyeol's neck. He steps back, slightly, just enough for him to look up at Chanyeol while he licks the corner of his lips. “You taste like a 'more'.”
Maybe it's the carbon in his lung poisoning his brain, the fire on his neck chewing his heart, or maybe it's just Baekhyun and the defiance in his eyes, but Chanyeol's vision goes black. He leans down and kisses Baekhyun, open mouthed and eager. He doesn't care whether it's real or not, if it's just the weirdest wet dream he's ever had, because it's still his dream and he gets to do everything he wants. He gets to have everything he's ever dreamed of. And right now, Baekhyun tastes exactly like that. His tongue is burning and playful, licking into Chanyeol's mouth and stealing all the oxygen Chanyeol's desperatly trying to breathe, leaving a need for more so strong that it stabs Chanyeol's closed eyelids with white needles. His hands grope for something to grasp, from the very fine fabric of Baekhyun's shirt to the surprising coolness of his neck, but nothing feels better than the long silky strands of hair in his fists. He pulls at it a bit, and Baekhyun spills a low, low moan in his mouth, partying his lips even wider. Chanyeol doesn't miss his chance. He takes the control back and pins Baekhyun against the wall, tongue sliding past Baekhyun's lips.
He feels Baekhyun's smile against his lips, and the way Baekhyun shifts his body ever so slightly so he can press his crotch against Chanyeol's thigh, but he also feels the sharpness of Baekhyun's canines on the back of his tongue. Long fingers are running on his arms, so overwhelming that Chanyeol feels like they're everywhere, taking and taking until Chanyeol has nothing left to give. He bucks up his hips and Baekhyun vibrates against him, breaking the kiss to throw his head back against the wall. He still has that smug smile on his lips glistenning with saliva, and Chanyeol hates how in control he acts, with his hands tightly secured on Chanyeol's biceps even though he looks wrecked, hair sticking out and breathing erratic. It's unfair, because Chanyeol is already so hard, and Baekhyun looks like he's mildly having fun.
Baekhyun looks at him, flashing Chanyeol the whiteness of his vampire-like teeth through a smirk.
“Is that all you have for me?” he asks, the tip of his tongue lingering on his lips to taste what's left of Chanyeol's saliva.
Chanyeol groans and grabs Baekhyun's thigh, bringing it up against his hip with a strong hand. Baekhyun takes the hint and wraps his leg around Chanyeol's hip, moaning when Chanyeol uses the new angle to press their crotches together harder. The sound is electrifying, so exciting, and Chanyeol feels his own arousal burn in the small of his back when he thinks about what he's missing of Baekhyun's voice, the notes his ears can't hear but that he's causing. His hips jerk forward, eagerly meeting Baekhyun's, and Baekhyun's leg tightens around him.
“Again,” Baekhyun pants. He cups Chanyeol's face, blown-out pupils drowning in the black all around his eyes. “Harder,” he commands, and Chanyeol obliges.
He bucks in and presses his face against Baekhyun's neck, the skin there looking tempting and beautiful, like only a deadly sin would look like, but it's there for Chanyeol to grasp, and Chanyeol does. Baekhyun is arching off the wall to meet Chanyeol's hips midway in heated circles, a burning flush blooming on his cheeks. He grabs a handful of Chanyeol's hair and pulls him up to kiss him roughly.
Baekhyun is terribly hot, terribly exciting, and also terribly using Chanyeol to chase after his completion, but Chanyeol couldn't care less, not with the way Baekhyun is kissing him, his sneaky tongue leaving a trail of fire in his mouth, or how he's bending against him, pliant and demanding, his second leg soon locked in the small of Chanyeol's back too. He's licking Chanyeol's under lip now, with his long fingers buried in his hair to keep Chanyeol in place. The latter can feel Baekhyun's left thumb against the corner of his mouth, so he slightly tilts his head to kiss it and tease Baekhyun's mole with the tip of his tongue. His muscles are already tensing, he's so close, and he can't believe Baekhyun took him there with only a few jerks of his hips, and dominant kisses, but there's no way he'll stop now. Baekhhyun's moans get a pitch higher, they linger a second longer, and Chanyeol takes it as his clue to thrust harder against him. It can't be a dream, it's nothing like a dream, and Chanyeol has a hundred of details to prove it, from Baekhyun's still cold breath clashing against his burning skin, to the silky texture of lips.
“Don't stop,” Baekhyun moans, nails scrapping Chanyeol's shoulderblades through his shirt.
Chanyeol is struggling to breath, to remain on his own two feet, the signs of what will most certainly be his most violent orgasm already licking down his spin, but Baekhyun is holding him with his strong gaze, almost harsh and amazingly carnal.
“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol moans, and something snaps in Baekhyun's eyes.
He grabs Chanyeol's hair and pulls at it hard enough to send a peak of pain through Chanyeol's body -that is probably not supposed to feel that good- and goes straight for Chanyeol's neck. The next thing Chanyeol registers is the sharp pain of Baekhyun's teeth plunging in his skin, not deeper enough to draw a lot of blood, but just enough to make him feel like Baekhyun is marking him, claiming him. He stutters at the thought, whole body hitting Baekhyun's harder and feels Baekhyun jerking through his orgasm against him.
Lightheaded, Chanyeol tightens his hold on Baekhyun while the latter finally lets go of his neck, and licks his skin up to his ear. Chanyeol is so close, it's driving him crazy. He feels like he's been falling for ages now, and he desperatly needs to hit the ground.
“Hey, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun whispers into his ear, voice suave and hoarse. Chanyeol groans when Baekhyun nips his earlobe. “There are two dead bodies behind you.”
Chanyeol freezes and straightens, heart exploding in his chest. He meets Baekhyun's eyes, narrowed into that smug eye smile of his, and looks over his shoulders, the reminder putting a damper on his enthusiasm. Before he can turns back his attention to Baekhyun, the latter disentangles himself from him.
“Okay, time to go,” he says. He's playing all innocent, but the chuckling sound he lets out when Chanyeol stares at him with wide eyes doesn't fool anyone.
“Don't look at me like that, seriously. Who the fuck has sex with two dead bodies in the same room?”
Chanyeol sutters, at a loss for words. He's burning, teetering over the edge, yes teetering and not falling, and it makes him so uncomfortable, almost in pain. His erection definitely feels painful actually. He throws a furious look at Baekhyun.
“But you got your-” He pauses and blushes at Baekhyun's satisfied grin. “Asshole,” he mutters.
Baekhyun smoothes out the creases on his shirt with the palm of his hands, and Chanyeol finally notices how perfect Baekhyun looks. His hair, although a little messier than earlier, still frames his face in the most delicate way, his skin still faintly glows, perfect and pure, and somehow, he looks even better with his lips swollen by kisses. There's a faint flush still gracing his cheeks, but nothing more, and it drives Chanyeol crazy because he's currently balancing himself on one foot to another, the frustration chewing his sweaty, hot skin.
“So,” Baekhyun says again, and his voice is already back at his usual state.
Chanyeol lets out a low whimper, only to realise that his own vocal chords are still strained by Baekhyun's ministrations. He glares at Baekhyun.
“I suppose we'll meet again, am I right?” Baekhyun smirks. He sends a flying kiss to Chanyeol, long fingers curling around thin air, delicate and powerful. “Take care, just Park Chanyeol.”
And then he turns towards the door, rolls his eyes at it and opens it. Chanyeol blinks, and Baekhyun's gone, the faint echo of his chuckles still bouncing around the room. Chanyeol can barely see the bodies now, because the moon is hidden behind a dark cloud, and its light has left the cell. His blood is thumping through the bite on his neck, and Chanyeol waits, expecting himself to wake up sooner or later.
It definitely was the weirdest (and most frustrating) wet dream ever.
“What the fuck, did we sleep on the floor?”
Chanyeol opens his eyes, and immediately groans at the pain in his back. Sehun's carpet isn't the most comfortable mattress ever, but there's something more aching through his body. Something like frustration and expectation, both so heavy that they make his bones vibrate. He sits up with a jerk when he remembers Baekhyun's face, Baekhyun's lips, and Baekhyun's smug smile at Chanyeol's obvious hard-on.
Sehun watches him with wide eyes, so different from the grumpy sleepy look Chanyeol is used to in the mornings.
“Dude,” Sehun starts, confused. “I was in your stupid book, and-”
“What?” Chanyeol croaks, heart thumping loudly in his chest.
Did Sehun also dream of Baekhyun...? Chanyeol glances down at the incense and the candles, and deflates. He was kind of hoping the spell did work, but if Sehun had the same dream, maybe it was just some psychotic weird thing. Maybe the incense he bought to that old apothecary downtown was cut with drugs, or something like that. It's just that... it really felt so real, and when he closes his eyes, he still can feel Baekhyun's skin under his palms, or his breath, demanding and urging, against the skin of his neck.
“Yeah,” Sehun continues, unaware of Chanyeol's struggles. “I was with the fox boy, Jongdae, and he was trying to get into a black tower.” He pauses and shakes his head with a faint chuckle. “He was like 'oh hi didn't see you there, what are you saying you're not part of this world, I don't care, Baekhyun's somewhere in that tower you should help me or get the fuck out of here I'm trying to be discreet there'.”
Chanyeol watches Sehun, mouth agape, and Sehun sighs longingly before shaking himself and glancing at Chanyeol.
“He ended up saying that Baekhyun could drag his sorry ass out of the tower on his own after all, and that he was hungry anyway so we-- wow, is that a hickey?”
Chanyeol frowns at Sehun's question, and raises his hand, confused. His fingers feel the sticky skin of his neck -he must have sweated a lot during the night- and at first, there's nothing more. He's about to scowl Sehun for being stupid, but two things happen almost simultaneously.
First, he notices that Sehun has a flower stuck in his hair. An orange flower with long petals covered in what looks like golden dust. Chanyeol is pretty sure such flower doesn't exist.
Secondly, he can feel something under his fingers. The skin is swollen, thumping with the faint memory of a sharp pain, two tiny holes only a few millimeters apart.
“Holy fuck,” he gasps, and Baekhyun's chuckles echo all around him.
So, Cla, now that I've finally written you some more Baekyeol, do you understand why I usually don't? I kind of suck haha
(I blame the stylist noona for Baekhyun's eye make up that somehow lead me to this)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Baekhyun/Chanyeol
Wordcount: 5,510
Warning: sex scene, very slight mentions of torture and death
Disclaimer: EXO belongs to themselves and SME
Notes: Title inspired by Florence and The Machine's Blinding.
Summary: Baekhyun has always been in black and white for Chanyeol, white pages and black ink, and finally black eyes and white skin.
The first time Chanyeol meets Baekhyun, he's eight and confused. He knows what being dead means, but he didn't really know it was also so much more than that. They say what took his mom away is a great game of misfortunes nobody could have stopped, but Chanyeol doesn't understand how that's supposed to ease the pain in his chest and the feeling of loneliness sticking to his skin. He stumbles upon Baekhyun on a starless night, when his whole room is pitch black except for the jagged stains of light his bedroom lamp leaves on the walls, and suddenly, he has all the answers he wants.
Chanyeol clearly remembers the loud beating of his heart when he discovered Baekhyun's character, beautifully spread out in black ink on white pages, the black tattoos around his eyes and the underlying threat in his every movement. Baekhyun's people, the powerful and dangerous Children of the Moon, had almost all been exterminated, and when Jongdae, the actual main character of the book, met Baekhyun, the latter was dancing a poisonous dance with both anger and sadness. Chanyeol's struggles with the Earth still turning when himself felt so out of breath and on the verge of falling all the time suddenly had a voice, and it was Baekhyun's voice. Since that day, Baekhyun's never left him, and Chanyeol has devoured all of his and Jongdae's adventures.
He wrote multiple time to the author of the Exodus serie, but nobody ever answered. He made some research too, but the only thing he actually found out about the writer is that his name, Thunder Light, is a fake name (which wasn't that surprising actually) and that his true identity is jealously kept hidden. His editor never met him in person. People says he's an oddball, Chanyeol says he's a genius.
Growing up following Jongdae and Baekhyun's wanderings across Mapa Mundi, their world, made Chanyeol fall in love with mythical creatures, legends and epic adventures -and also fucking obsessed according to Oh Sehun. He collects all sorts of old grimoires, stargazes on summer nights, and believes in distant universes that only exist in books more than he does in his actual world. It's a pretty common thing for Sehun, his best friend, to have Chanyeol barging in his room with an armful of random and weird stuff, and excited words such as...
“We're gonna meet our soulmates!”
Sehun stops chewing his gum, blows a bubble and lets it pop loudly in his room, for dramatic effects.
“Or you're going to set your eyebrows on fire again.” He pauses. “Which would probably be funnier anyway.”
Sehun keeps his eyes glued to his TV screen, thumbs flying all over the video game controller at the speed of light while loud explosions echo through his room. His obvious lack of enthusiasm doesn't get to Chanyeol, it never does, so he starts setting up the candles on the floor.
“I found this spell on the internet,” he explains, excitation all over his voice while Sehun barely raises an eyebrow at him. “It's supposed to bring us to our soulmates.”
“My soulmate's probably a rich handsome guy,” Sehun says. He cackles evily when he manages to kill a bunch of soldiers thanks to a can of gas. Chanyeol snorts. Sehun's video games always lack of finesse. Who the fuck fights a war next to a row of cans of gas?
“Your soulmate is probably a weird Lord Of The Rings nerd,” Sehun keeps going, eyes narrowing at his screen. Chanyeol stops the preparation to watch Sehun's character trying to run away from a handgrenade. Sehun's not fast enough, of course, and a large game over fills the screen while bloody parts of the character's body fly all over the place.
“Ugh,” Sehun grumbles. He puts the controller away and finally turns his head towards Chanyeol. “Like, when they're not working, they dress in one of those long elf's robes, and they put on the fake ears and do stupid stuff like...” He eyes the candles around Chanyeol, and looks at his best friend. “Like that.”
Chanyeol shrugs.
“I like The Lord Of The Rings.”
“I know you do,” Sehun deadpans.
“Come on,” Chanyeol says. “Help me with the incense.”
Sehun makes a face, but Chanyeol's attention is already back on the candles. Sehun complains a lot, about Chanyeol's stupid love for stupid things, and why the fuck do you act like it's going to work it never does, and Chanyeol babbles about what he's read, what they're supposed to do, what could happen, and oh my god Sehunnie, what if it works?!. Sehun always rolls his eyes at him, and judges Chanyeol extra hard, but he ends up doing the spells with him in the end, and Chanyeol doesn't mind the bitting remarks if it means that he gets to have his best friend trying to speak Latin just to please him.
Sehun glares at Chanyeol when he sets the incense alight before blowing on the flame. There's a thin rope of smoke curling around nothing and going up and up, until it meets the ceiling.
“That thing stinks,” Sehun whines. “It's never your room. Why is it never your room again?”
Chanyeol smiles, making sure to flash his dimple at Sehun, because the puppy eyes always work on his best friend.
“Because if we happen to accidently summon the devil, he'll probably just small chat with you before going back to the darkest pits of hell.”
“That's right,” Sehun nods with a straight face. “Because he already has a VIP lounge with my name on it down there.”
Chanyeol vigorously nods, and Sehun grins, amusement crinkling in the corner of his eyes. Silence comes with the darkness when Sehun switches off the lights, and the more they stare at each other, the thicker it all gets, to the point that Chanyeol struggles to breath in. It's his favorite part, when he gets to forget all the previous spells that failed, when he can't help but feel the hope vibrating in his bones. This one could work, because no matter what Sehun says, there's always a slight chance, isn't it? The world can't be just... that. There has to be more, because if not, it would mean that this feeling of being out of place, like a book put on the wrong shelf, will never go away, and Chanyeol can't have that. He needs to find the key.
Those few seconds before they start the spell are also the only seconds when Sehun loses the bitch face. His eyes are so dark, almost scary with the candles reflecting in them, but to Chanyeol, they're nothing but warm and understanding. It's always during those short seconds that he remembers that Sehun actually read the whole Exodus serie so Chanyeol could talk about it with him. He also reads the new tomes that come out twice a year, and then patiently listens to Chanyeol being hysterical about it. Sure, he complains a lot, but in the end, Sehun is good friend. The best.
“Do we need to hold hand?” Sehun asks, eyeing the geometric shapes Chanyeol drew with a chalp stick on the dark red cloth between them.
Chanyeol eyes the piece of paper with the spell written on it. “It's actually not said?”
“Maybe we shouldn't, the spell's going to believe we are soulmates.”
Chanyeol snorts, handing Sehun his copy of the spell, because they have to recite the words together.
“We can't be soulmates,” he retorts. “Otherwise we would have fallen in love already. I've known you for eight years.”
Sehun throws him a look that Chanyeol can't really make out with the faint light coming from the candles, but with the twitch of Sehun's eyebrows, and the deep sigh his best friend lets out, he takes it as kind of frustrated, with a hint of amusement.
“You're unbelievable,” Sehun sighs, his usual neutral and low voice made lighter with the smile currently pulling at his lips. He lets out another sigh, that he purposely draws out until all the oxygen has left his lungs. “Okay, now brief me. What do we need to do?”
Chanyeol smiles. “Wait 'til it's midnight, and then just say the words in unison.”
“And we'll get to meet our soulmates?”
Chanyeol nods, unaware of the scepticism laced all over Sehun's voice. He wonders where his soulmate lives. Probably not in a big city, because Chanyeol doesn't like skyscrapers, and tiny patches of grass eaten by hard concrete. What kind of music do they like? Do they sing? Play guitar, or piano, or something fancier like, violin? He doesn't really have a type, so everything could work, but the only thing Chanyeol desperatly wants, is the feeling. He want something bigger, he wants the ache in his bones, the strong pull, and the feeling of adventure.
“Thirty seconds 'til midnight,” Sehun informs him, pulling him out of his reverie.
Chanyeol nods for the second time. “We should start.”
He empties his brain, breathes in and starts reading Latin words that don't make sense. He probably messes the pronunciation, and maybe that's why none of the spells they've done worked before, but as his tongue rolls around foreign syllables, Chanyeol finds out he doesn't care. It's the best feeling in the world, drowning in what ifs already so addictive that you could stay there until the end of time. He's hit by all the books he's read, by the movies he's watched and loved, and one by one, they all tear down the limits. For a few seconds, while both he and Sehun are struggling with unusual combinations of letters, it already feels like magic, and it's powerful enough, wonderful enough, to keep the wide grin plastered on Chanyeol's face even though nothing happens after they both look up.
Sehun bites his lips, looks right and left and glances down at his paper. Chanyeol folds his in four.
“Let's watch the Lord Of The Rings” he proposes.
“Okay, but only if it's the Two Towers.”
Chanyeol agrees, and they blow the candles together, throw the incense away and sneak under Sehun's blankets to watch the movie. It's part of the ritual somehow, talking until the first rays of sunshine dye the horizon line with shy pink and fragile orange flowers, or watching their favorite movies, sometimes even reading some books together. To Chanyeol, it's part of the spell, part of the moments that make him feel more alive than ever. But for the first time today, he finds himself unable to focus on the Helm's Deep battle. The air feels electric, suffocating and clingy, like ghost hands gripping his arms every two seconds, and the colors reach his brain faded and out of sync. Maybe he's falling asleep, but it feels more like falling than sleeping, and every time he blinks, there's emptiness and black holes burned onto his eyelids.
“I think you were right, Sehun,” he manages to croak in the haziness that drowns him. “That incense stank pretty bad, I feel nauseous now.”
Sehun doesn't answer, or maybe he does, but Chanyeol is too busy listening to the laugh, smug and mocking, echoing through his mind. He winces at the sound of iron scrapping against stones, swords crossing and heavy chains clashing, and blinks at the TV screen while someone snorts. The TV is off, and Chanyeol can see the Two Towers DVD still on the shelf. Weird, he thinks, and when he turns his head towards Sehun, he realizes they're still on the floor. There's a patch of silvery light next to his hand, painted on the carpet by the moon through the window, and Chanyeol gasps when it starts shifting ever so slightly, until it finally fills his vision with discreet highlights on long strands of ash-colored hair.
“Who are you?”
The voice is melodious, overwhelming. It rings in Chanyeol's ears with a silent promise of hidden intonations and soft sounds, and Chanyeol knows there's more to it, but that's a more that his basic human hearing can't grasp. He's facing a smaller boy, with soft curves, and delicate features, that clash violently with the dark lines swallowing his eyes and the smirk pulling up at his pink lips. His hair is a shade darker than the moon, and Chanyeol can make out the metalic color of the blood running through the boy's carotid artery.
Chanyeol stumbles on his own thoughts, and somehow, the words going past his lips don't sound like the ones he wanted to say.
“Where's Jongdae?” he blurts out.
The boy -Baekhyun- smiles. He doesn't even look surprised at all, and the faint twitch of his eyebrows isn't confused, but dangerous. He's looking at Chanyeol like a predator looks at his prey, the exact same way Chanyeol has pictured all this time and-oh god what is happening.
“Probably trying to rescue me,” Baekhyun answers. He opens his arms, and Chanyeol only sees now the heavy handcuffs around the delicate wrists, and the dark dark chains tying Baekhyun to the wall behind. There are two bodies lying on the ground at Baekhyun's feet, and Chanyeol shivers. They're dead.
“Even though he knows I'm not really the damsel in distress type.”
Chanyeol awkwardly chuckles, and Baekhyun's dark eyes narrow at him, turning his chuckles into weak gargles. Baekhyun is exactly like he's pictured him all these years, and also so much more. Chanyeol remembers adjectives and descriptions, and everything is there, from the dark aura sticking to Baekhyun's skin, with the underlying threat stiffening the air around him, to the grace and the confidence radiating from him. The dark smoke leaving the corner of his eyes in hypnotizing wreaths looks way more intimidating though, and the way the dark lines follow the shape of Baekhyun's eyes is more beautiful than Chanyeol could have ever imagined. In the first Exodus book, Baekhyun tells Jongdae that Children of the Moon get the tattoos around their eyes after their first kill. The shape of it, and the intricate arabesques curling from the corner of their eyes to their temples change according to their personalities and how they behave when they're hunting. It is said that a tattooed Child of the Moon is practically invisible during nighttime, because moonlight can't find their eyes and they get mistaken for simple shadows, so no light shine on them.
“You didn't tell me your name yet,” Baekhyun says. “And how you got in here.”
Chanyeol takes a look around and only then realises they're in what looks like a cell. It's so surreal, from the stone walls to the reinforced rusty door, not to mention the tiny window and the bars cutting the moon in irregular strips of light. It's not the first time he's dreamed about Baekhyun, but it's the first time it feels so real. When he breathes in, the dampness of the cell settles on his tongue, and the pungent smell lingering in the air fills his noise. There's a ferrous aftertaste that burns his throat, something poisonous and drenched with fear that makes him uncomfortable. He never feels uncomfortable in his dreams, he never really sees the lack of details, and how it seems like he's looking at it through a kaleidoscope, but now, it's the absence of black holes that confuses him so much.
The spell crosses his mind before he can stop it, and when he looks down at Baekhyun, now body-searching the soldiers, delicate wrists not even flinching under the weight of the heavy handcuffs, Chanyeol thinks about all those nights spent reading and fearing for Jongdae and Baekhyun, and how hard it was to go back to reality when he was done reading. And it's just a tiny thought in the back of his mind, shy and unsure, but Chanyeol only has eyes for it.
What if...?
“You know, you should answer before I get rid of those chains,” Baekhyun says. He doesn't look up, attention still on the bunch of keys he's now testing on his handcuffs, and his voice is playful, almost mischievous, but Chanyeol knows better. “Or I'll make you answer myself and...” Baekhyun glances at him, smirking. “I'm pretty sure you won't like it.”
He's radiating danger, he's always had, but if it really is Baekhyun, the Byun Baekhyun from the books, he's also so much more than that. Chanyeol has read him through hundreds of pages. He has read him crying over the loss of his people, almost falling over the edge because of his need for revenge, he's read Baekhyun bitter and furious, but also friendly and protective. He spent days thinking about him when Baekhyun had to kill Kwanghee after he and Jongdae found out Kwanghee worked with the bad guys. Baekhyun killed him, deadly and cold, but he spent three hours next to the body afterwards, kissing Kwanghee's eyelids and praying for his soul, like Children of the Moon do when one of them die. Chanyeol knows every aspect of Baekhyun, loves every aspect of him, and really... what if the spell did work...?
The clashing sound of iron crashing against the stone pulls him out of his reverie. Baekhyun is still hunkered next to the bodies, but one of his wrists is now free from the handcuff. He raises one eyebrow at Chanyeol, who gets the hint. Time to start talking.
“It's kind of a long story,” Chanyeol blabbers. “See there was this spell and--”
“You're a wizard?” Baekhyun frowns at him. “You don't look like a wizard. Your clothes are weird.”
Chanyeol glances at his sweat pants and old shirt, wincing. He should have thought about it before the spell. Meeting his soulmate in his pajamas isn't really his most brilliant idea. He looks up at Baekhyun when the second handcuff falls to the floor, and feels himself blushing as Baekhyun stands up, massaging his wrist, his dark eyes staring at his face.
“Yours are-yours are weirder,” he retorts.
There's a second of silence that weighs on Chanyeol like an eternity, before Baekhyun laughs. It's bubbly, cheerful, and so out of place in what Chanyeol supposes is a torture chamber, but the only thing he really does notice is the way it sends sparkles straight to Baekhyun's eyes, narrowing them in the most beautiful eye smile he's ever seen.
“What's your name?” Baekhyun asks him, closing the distance between them with a few steps.
Chanyeol feels so aware of the remaining space between his and Baekhhyun's body, and the air stiffens around him. Baekhyun comes with heavier oxygen atoms, and a fainted smell of grass after a rain storm. He gets closer, and takes over everything, just like the night sky swallows the day, all black, from the clothes to the tattoos around his eyes, but he has the silvery hair for the moon and the faint glowing of his skin for its light.
“Park Chanyeol,” Chanyeol stutters.
“Well, you're one strange wizard, Park Chanyeol.”
“I-I”m not a wizard.”
“Yeah?” Baekhyun asks, in a whisper-like voice. He's only a few inches away now, and Chanyeol may be one head taller, he feels terribly small. “Then what are you?”
Chanyeol shivers when Baekhyun's breath grazes his neck. He is now close enough for Chanyeol to actually see the intricate web of veins spreading under Baekhyun's ghostly skin, and the metallic blood running through them, giving Baekhyun's skin its faint glow. There's never been anything in the books about Baekhyun's nose, so soft and delicate, or his cheekbones; not a word about the mole above his lips or how light his fingers feel on his skin, feather touches that yet clash with the strong feelings they provoke. Chanyeol steps back, but Baekhyun follows, his hands securely wrapped around Chanyeol's forearms.
“I'm just Park Chanyeol,” he lets out with a little yelp when his back hits the wall.
“Just Park Chanyeol,” Baekhyun muses. He smiles. “I think you're more than just Park Chanyeol.”
“I, really, no I'm just-Chanyeol. Chanyeol's my name. Just... that.”
Baekhyun smiles, in that predatory way of his, and cornered with his back against the wall, Chanyeol is back at being his prey. Baekhyun's eyes are following Chanyeol's lips when he talks, amusement obvious in the wrinkles that leave the corner of his eyes, under the black tattoos. He looks infuriatingly smug, the ghost of a laugh pulling up at his lips, and Chanyeol is reminded of Baekhyun's super hearing when he realises how hard his heart is beating against his ribcage.
“Really?” Baekhyun asks, his voice so low that it barely reaches Chanyeol's ears. It does reach his neck though, because Baekhyun is practically talking against his skin, and his breath, along with the proximity of his lips, send shivers down Chanyeol's spine. He gulps, and gasps when he feels Baekhyun's nose grazing his Apple Adam. The touch is almost immediately followed by a burning wetness along Chanyeol's neckline, and he has no trouble picturing Baekhyun's pink tongue on his skin. All the oxygen he swallowed down when he gasped is still in his lungs, turned into carbon dioxide, but still not as suffocating as Baekhyun is.
“You don't taste like a 'just',” Baekhyun says, his lips hovering over Chanyeol's neck. He steps back, slightly, just enough for him to look up at Chanyeol while he licks the corner of his lips. “You taste like a 'more'.”
Maybe it's the carbon in his lung poisoning his brain, the fire on his neck chewing his heart, or maybe it's just Baekhyun and the defiance in his eyes, but Chanyeol's vision goes black. He leans down and kisses Baekhyun, open mouthed and eager. He doesn't care whether it's real or not, if it's just the weirdest wet dream he's ever had, because it's still his dream and he gets to do everything he wants. He gets to have everything he's ever dreamed of. And right now, Baekhyun tastes exactly like that. His tongue is burning and playful, licking into Chanyeol's mouth and stealing all the oxygen Chanyeol's desperatly trying to breathe, leaving a need for more so strong that it stabs Chanyeol's closed eyelids with white needles. His hands grope for something to grasp, from the very fine fabric of Baekhyun's shirt to the surprising coolness of his neck, but nothing feels better than the long silky strands of hair in his fists. He pulls at it a bit, and Baekhyun spills a low, low moan in his mouth, partying his lips even wider. Chanyeol doesn't miss his chance. He takes the control back and pins Baekhyun against the wall, tongue sliding past Baekhyun's lips.
He feels Baekhyun's smile against his lips, and the way Baekhyun shifts his body ever so slightly so he can press his crotch against Chanyeol's thigh, but he also feels the sharpness of Baekhyun's canines on the back of his tongue. Long fingers are running on his arms, so overwhelming that Chanyeol feels like they're everywhere, taking and taking until Chanyeol has nothing left to give. He bucks up his hips and Baekhyun vibrates against him, breaking the kiss to throw his head back against the wall. He still has that smug smile on his lips glistenning with saliva, and Chanyeol hates how in control he acts, with his hands tightly secured on Chanyeol's biceps even though he looks wrecked, hair sticking out and breathing erratic. It's unfair, because Chanyeol is already so hard, and Baekhyun looks like he's mildly having fun.
Baekhyun looks at him, flashing Chanyeol the whiteness of his vampire-like teeth through a smirk.
“Is that all you have for me?” he asks, the tip of his tongue lingering on his lips to taste what's left of Chanyeol's saliva.
Chanyeol groans and grabs Baekhyun's thigh, bringing it up against his hip with a strong hand. Baekhyun takes the hint and wraps his leg around Chanyeol's hip, moaning when Chanyeol uses the new angle to press their crotches together harder. The sound is electrifying, so exciting, and Chanyeol feels his own arousal burn in the small of his back when he thinks about what he's missing of Baekhyun's voice, the notes his ears can't hear but that he's causing. His hips jerk forward, eagerly meeting Baekhyun's, and Baekhyun's leg tightens around him.
“Again,” Baekhyun pants. He cups Chanyeol's face, blown-out pupils drowning in the black all around his eyes. “Harder,” he commands, and Chanyeol obliges.
He bucks in and presses his face against Baekhyun's neck, the skin there looking tempting and beautiful, like only a deadly sin would look like, but it's there for Chanyeol to grasp, and Chanyeol does. Baekhyun is arching off the wall to meet Chanyeol's hips midway in heated circles, a burning flush blooming on his cheeks. He grabs a handful of Chanyeol's hair and pulls him up to kiss him roughly.
Baekhyun is terribly hot, terribly exciting, and also terribly using Chanyeol to chase after his completion, but Chanyeol couldn't care less, not with the way Baekhyun is kissing him, his sneaky tongue leaving a trail of fire in his mouth, or how he's bending against him, pliant and demanding, his second leg soon locked in the small of Chanyeol's back too. He's licking Chanyeol's under lip now, with his long fingers buried in his hair to keep Chanyeol in place. The latter can feel Baekhyun's left thumb against the corner of his mouth, so he slightly tilts his head to kiss it and tease Baekhyun's mole with the tip of his tongue. His muscles are already tensing, he's so close, and he can't believe Baekhyun took him there with only a few jerks of his hips, and dominant kisses, but there's no way he'll stop now. Baekhhyun's moans get a pitch higher, they linger a second longer, and Chanyeol takes it as his clue to thrust harder against him. It can't be a dream, it's nothing like a dream, and Chanyeol has a hundred of details to prove it, from Baekhyun's still cold breath clashing against his burning skin, to the silky texture of lips.
“Don't stop,” Baekhyun moans, nails scrapping Chanyeol's shoulderblades through his shirt.
Chanyeol is struggling to breath, to remain on his own two feet, the signs of what will most certainly be his most violent orgasm already licking down his spin, but Baekhyun is holding him with his strong gaze, almost harsh and amazingly carnal.
“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol moans, and something snaps in Baekhyun's eyes.
He grabs Chanyeol's hair and pulls at it hard enough to send a peak of pain through Chanyeol's body -that is probably not supposed to feel that good- and goes straight for Chanyeol's neck. The next thing Chanyeol registers is the sharp pain of Baekhyun's teeth plunging in his skin, not deeper enough to draw a lot of blood, but just enough to make him feel like Baekhyun is marking him, claiming him. He stutters at the thought, whole body hitting Baekhyun's harder and feels Baekhyun jerking through his orgasm against him.
Lightheaded, Chanyeol tightens his hold on Baekhyun while the latter finally lets go of his neck, and licks his skin up to his ear. Chanyeol is so close, it's driving him crazy. He feels like he's been falling for ages now, and he desperatly needs to hit the ground.
“Hey, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun whispers into his ear, voice suave and hoarse. Chanyeol groans when Baekhyun nips his earlobe. “There are two dead bodies behind you.”
Chanyeol freezes and straightens, heart exploding in his chest. He meets Baekhyun's eyes, narrowed into that smug eye smile of his, and looks over his shoulders, the reminder putting a damper on his enthusiasm. Before he can turns back his attention to Baekhyun, the latter disentangles himself from him.
“Okay, time to go,” he says. He's playing all innocent, but the chuckling sound he lets out when Chanyeol stares at him with wide eyes doesn't fool anyone.
“Don't look at me like that, seriously. Who the fuck has sex with two dead bodies in the same room?”
Chanyeol sutters, at a loss for words. He's burning, teetering over the edge, yes teetering and not falling, and it makes him so uncomfortable, almost in pain. His erection definitely feels painful actually. He throws a furious look at Baekhyun.
“But you got your-” He pauses and blushes at Baekhyun's satisfied grin. “Asshole,” he mutters.
Baekhyun smoothes out the creases on his shirt with the palm of his hands, and Chanyeol finally notices how perfect Baekhyun looks. His hair, although a little messier than earlier, still frames his face in the most delicate way, his skin still faintly glows, perfect and pure, and somehow, he looks even better with his lips swollen by kisses. There's a faint flush still gracing his cheeks, but nothing more, and it drives Chanyeol crazy because he's currently balancing himself on one foot to another, the frustration chewing his sweaty, hot skin.
“So,” Baekhyun says again, and his voice is already back at his usual state.
Chanyeol lets out a low whimper, only to realise that his own vocal chords are still strained by Baekhyun's ministrations. He glares at Baekhyun.
“I suppose we'll meet again, am I right?” Baekhyun smirks. He sends a flying kiss to Chanyeol, long fingers curling around thin air, delicate and powerful. “Take care, just Park Chanyeol.”
And then he turns towards the door, rolls his eyes at it and opens it. Chanyeol blinks, and Baekhyun's gone, the faint echo of his chuckles still bouncing around the room. Chanyeol can barely see the bodies now, because the moon is hidden behind a dark cloud, and its light has left the cell. His blood is thumping through the bite on his neck, and Chanyeol waits, expecting himself to wake up sooner or later.
It definitely was the weirdest (and most frustrating) wet dream ever.
“What the fuck, did we sleep on the floor?”
Chanyeol opens his eyes, and immediately groans at the pain in his back. Sehun's carpet isn't the most comfortable mattress ever, but there's something more aching through his body. Something like frustration and expectation, both so heavy that they make his bones vibrate. He sits up with a jerk when he remembers Baekhyun's face, Baekhyun's lips, and Baekhyun's smug smile at Chanyeol's obvious hard-on.
Sehun watches him with wide eyes, so different from the grumpy sleepy look Chanyeol is used to in the mornings.
“Dude,” Sehun starts, confused. “I was in your stupid book, and-”
“What?” Chanyeol croaks, heart thumping loudly in his chest.
Did Sehun also dream of Baekhyun...? Chanyeol glances down at the incense and the candles, and deflates. He was kind of hoping the spell did work, but if Sehun had the same dream, maybe it was just some psychotic weird thing. Maybe the incense he bought to that old apothecary downtown was cut with drugs, or something like that. It's just that... it really felt so real, and when he closes his eyes, he still can feel Baekhyun's skin under his palms, or his breath, demanding and urging, against the skin of his neck.
“Yeah,” Sehun continues, unaware of Chanyeol's struggles. “I was with the fox boy, Jongdae, and he was trying to get into a black tower.” He pauses and shakes his head with a faint chuckle. “He was like 'oh hi didn't see you there, what are you saying you're not part of this world, I don't care, Baekhyun's somewhere in that tower you should help me or get the fuck out of here I'm trying to be discreet there'.”
Chanyeol watches Sehun, mouth agape, and Sehun sighs longingly before shaking himself and glancing at Chanyeol.
“He ended up saying that Baekhyun could drag his sorry ass out of the tower on his own after all, and that he was hungry anyway so we-- wow, is that a hickey?”
Chanyeol frowns at Sehun's question, and raises his hand, confused. His fingers feel the sticky skin of his neck -he must have sweated a lot during the night- and at first, there's nothing more. He's about to scowl Sehun for being stupid, but two things happen almost simultaneously.
First, he notices that Sehun has a flower stuck in his hair. An orange flower with long petals covered in what looks like golden dust. Chanyeol is pretty sure such flower doesn't exist.
Secondly, he can feel something under his fingers. The skin is swollen, thumping with the faint memory of a sharp pain, two tiny holes only a few millimeters apart.
“Holy fuck,” he gasps, and Baekhyun's chuckles echo all around him.
So, Cla, now that I've finally written you some more Baekyeol, do you understand why I usually don't? I kind of suck haha
(I blame the stylist noona for Baekhyun's eye make up that somehow lead me to this)