#sorry my guitar is dusty i haven’t practiced in a bit

[evildeerboy]

i literally do forget that ian is colorblind sometimes like he said “why did you buy purple sneakers, i didn’t think you liked purple?. thats more a color i associate with my grandma?”

me: ???

me: over 8 years how do you not notice most of--? oh. yeah. right. sorry

[itwillbeall-dwight]

sonata no. 4

kate denson/yui kimura; fluff; love confessions; music performances; 3085 words

a/n: bro i love country roads so much do you Know how much i do. do you know.

i’ve been sitting on this one for a while, i’ve been kinda nervous to post it because this isn’t something i relate to as a trans mlm. but i think i did a good job! they deserve so much happiness. also this is a call for kate to please call me god ma’am you are So pretty.

likes < reblogs, any comments in the tags are appreciated

ao3 mirror in the reblogs!

Preview: “Well, uh… any requests?” She seemed almost sheepish now that she sat there, self-conscious that the old thing was oddly silent.  Yui leaned against the top of the piano, folding her arms atop it and resting her chin on them. “Go wild. Beside you singin’, I’ve never… heard your music.” “You’re not missin’ much.” “I’m sure I am.” She looked up with a soft smile, face going a little red as she cleared her throat, hands hovering over the keys as she muttered to herself, before she began to play. 

Another day, another trial in the fog, four poor souls fighting for their lives for the entertainment of some eldritch crowd. This time, the dusty horizons of Glenvale were the sight of such an event; the trial ground mostly silent aside from the occasional scream of pain from one of her fellow survivors. Though that hadn't been often - thus far, with two generators powered up and ready to go, the four of them running circles around the Hag, the poor forest witch so out of her element amongst the dust and sand of the American wild west. That wasn't going to make them pity her, though, and her bony fingers still swiped at them like claws, and she still growled with the same hunger and malice, seeming to only grow angrier with each failed attack.

 The gentle creaking of the nearby hook from a silent wind was only drowned out by the sounds of turning gears and electrical sparks, the smell of rusted copper wires carrying up to her nose and making it wrinkle as she gently crossed over another pair of wires, routinely, as she had learned to do from her trials before. From the corner of her eye, sunkissed arms reached out from the depths of the generator to pull down a nearby leaver and turn a crack, listening to the machine groan and sigh before it purred to life, lights atop it flickering on to signal the third one down-

Before she could stand to her feet and revel in the small victory, the gentle yet surprised yelp to her side caused Yui to look down the trap door atop the gallows down at Kate, now sitting on the dusty ground below, rubbing her tailbone with a pained wince on her face.

"Break your back, cowboy?" She called down, with a small smirk on her face, squatting with her elbows resting on her knees.

The singer looked up with a pained grin, laughing weakly, that in itself sounding like music. "S-sorry... kinda forgot it did that.

Yui chuckled a little, trying not to pay attention to the way her face glowed when she smiled, hoisting herself down the hole with a bend of the knees and a light thud, before holding a hand out to help Kate to her feet.

Which she took. Her hands were soft, like silk, and her grip was somehow both delicate and firm as she pulled herself up to stand, taking a moment to almost shake her hand before pulling it away and resting it on her hip.

(Yui hoped she didn't notice the way she instinctively moved to grab it again, just to hold it for a little bit longer.)

"Well, those generator's ain't gonna finish themselves, huh? Let's get  a move on." Her instructions were like honey - sweet, and thick with kindness and a southern twang that was distractingly enticing.

But she held it together, just enough, to nod. "Yeah, got it. Saloon?"

The other survivor nodded, a default sweet small befalling her features. "Great idea, hon." 

After the two had checked along the horizon of the dusty town to find nothing more than a loose tumbleweed, Kate led them through the back of the saloon, where even the sound of her boots against the old rotting floor, or the way she talked to herself as she dispelled out the talisman's left in the wood with her flashlight was enough to make the stonecold expression so default to Yui's face soften.

 So she had a crush on Kate Denson. Who wouldn't? The girl was perfect, practically untouchable, even in the fog, always excited for a new adventure in every trial and willing to try anything more than once, always celebrating when they escaped but never solemn or disheartened when they didn't, always willing to lend an ear to listen or a shoulder to cry on, and never short of a song to get everyone happily singing along. Yui'd had crushes before (she was only human, after all), but never like this - they were always fleeting, passing by before she would care to even give them a chance, her work and ambitions drowning her. But here in the fog, there was no tarmac, no smell of burning rubber or old gasoline, the only roaring not coming from old dirtbikes but from whatever monster of the week wanted them dead... but with Kate, she was head over heels for her, and wanted more than anything to be her girl, to be the wind on her back, but somehow always knew there would never be a chance. Maybe that's why she hesitated, even with a thousand chances.

 She was so caught in her thoughts that she didn’t realise that Kate had stopped walking in front of her, bumping into her back with a quiet litter of a sheepish apology before stopping. “Hey, Denson?”

“Huh?” She seemed to snap out of her own head and look back to Yui, before glancing around. “Oh! Oh, right. Generator.”

“What’s up?”

“Uh, nothing bad, just…” Kate looked back in front over her, as Yui looked over her shoulder and followed her eyes to the old piano, the racket as if someone was falling on the damn keys, over and over. 

“...You play?”

“Vaguely. Helps to tune your guitar, gives it somethin’ to tune it to, ya know? I did lessons as a kid, ‘n my mom would take me to recitals with a camcorder and freak out every time.” She laughed, that sweet honey laugh, that slowly fizzled out into a sound that came from sadness. “...I kinda miss playin’, sometimes.”

That made sense. Yui knew the feeling; tearing up the road on a bike wasn’t the same as kicking up dirt running on adrenaline from an asshole with a knife, but it was the closest she was ever gonna get until they got out of here. Her hands hovered over Kate’s shoulder’s for a moment, before she gently placed them there, weathered palms holding perfect skin, warm to the touch. “We’ll figure somethin’ out. For now though-”

“Generator. Right. You’re not subtle.”

“...Sorry.”

Kate giggled, shaking her head in dismissal, not really minding the acknowledgement of her reminiscing was far from the point of them being there, letting herself be pushed upstairs to the generator on the balcony.

 They were mostly quiet, though Yui did ask for her to talk about the piano more, mostly just to hear her voice. The things Kate was saying didn’t entirely make sense to her (she was never the most musical, but understood when things sounded nice, at the bare minimum), but hearing her sound so excited was more than enough.

The conversation eventually stopped, shifting as Adam came to join them, short of breath and bleeding through his coat, medkit in hand and asking for assistance, which Kate was happy to give. Yui kept her focus on the generator, as best she could, but the ghosts playing the piano just below her kept catching her ear. And as Kate came back to the generator, happily talking to the teacher that now joined them as if they weren’t in a trial trapped in the old west, she knew what she wanted to do.

 They escaped with relative ease, the struggling with never really catching up with them, all four of them escaping with some new items in hand, thanks to Zarina, who had done an excellent job keeping the Hag occupied in the dusty streets. Yui hadn’t seen Kate much for a while after that. When one was busy, the other was not, and when one was enduring a trial, the other was scouting out a realm for any clues to their escape (routine exercise). But that was fine, in terms of her little plan - the less she saw, the better. And besides, she didn’t think Kate would notice, or even care. But soon, they spoke again, after another group of four were sent to fight for their lives.

 “Hey, uh, Yui?” Her sugary sweet voice gave the survivor a start, jumping as she was cleaning a flashlight from the small pile she’d accrued.

“Ah- oh, uh… hey.”

“Hi! Uh… can I ask you somethin’?”

For a moment, her mind jumped to the best-case scenario, but Yui cleared her throat before she could daydream any more on that. “Um, sure?”

“Have you seen… any coins?”

“...Coins?”

She nodded. “Well, Jake was checking through the stock and, uh… says we’re missin’ a few. Haven’t seen him that riled up about somethin’ since… well, ever.”

Yui almost laughed. “That boy is a damn dragon, I swear.”

“Think he likes to just… have things.”

“Things like coins we can’t even use?”

“Well… yeah.”

Yui scoffed a little, rolling her eyes before she put the flashlight down on the log beside her, resting her elbows on her knees and leaning forward where she sat, looking up at the singer. “I… have an idea. But you’re gonna have to trust me.”

“I… OK? You can tell me anything-”

“No, no,” she cut her off. “...I want you to come with me, somewhere. Just the two of us.”

She raised an eyebrow. Yui quickly picked up on the signal.

“...Nothing bad, promise.” The street racer offered a hand, beckoning with a slight movement of her fingers.

She took her hand with hesitation, though quickly squeezed it to affirm her choice. Yui gave her a small smile, hoping it wasn't shaky, before standing to her feet and leading her away into the forest, taking a path with downtrodden leaves, as if she’d taken it before.

 It wasn’t long until the fog cleared again, old leaves crunching under their feet replacing with the grains of sand and dust, trees becoming rotting wooden buildings, while the sky above them twinkled with stars, no air pollution in sight.

“...The saloon.” Kate said from behind her, as Yui stopped them in the walkway just in front of the imposing building. “Is there something here?”

“I… yeah, in a way. ...Look, you wouldn’t tell Jake-”

“Yui, you didn’t…”

“It’s not like we need them anyways! ‘Sides, I thought that old cowboy might appreciate ‘em, and then I could, ya know… negotiate.”

“...For what?”

“Well… the piano.” She cocked her head back towards the instrument, before looking back at the singer, who’s face had softened a little bit from the lecture she was about to give. “You said you missed playing, and you give so much to everyone else, so I thought…”

As the street racer trailed off, Kate smiled, cupping her hand between two of her own, and shaking it. “Well, that’s… mighty kind of you.”

“Y… yeah.” With a free hand, she rubbed the back of her neck, before letting herself be led inside, to the piano, noticing that as Kate sat down, she was hesitant to move her hand away, to flex her fingers and prepare herself.

 “Well, uh… any requests?” She seemed almost sheepish now that she sat there, self-conscious that the old thing was oddly silent. 

Yui leaned against the top of the piano, folding her arms atop it and resting her chin on them. “Go wild. Beside you singin’, I’ve never… heard your music.”

“You’re not missin’ much.”

“I’m sure I am.”

She looked up with a soft smile, face going a little red as she cleared her throat, hands hovering over the keys as she muttered to herself, before she began to play.

It was a slow song, soft and loving, and though she was rusty and stumbled her words as she missed a key or hit a wrong note, she still powered through. Yui watched her face, the way she performed even when no one was watching, and how her music really was like sugar and honey, sweet and enticing. She tilted her head and smiled to herself, looking at the features on Kate’s face with a deep, profound love, as if she could stand there and listen to her forever - and she would, if forever was the time they had.

 She finished with a bittersweet note, slowly opening her eyes and looking up to Yui, face flushing a little from the way she was staring at her. “It’s… nothing special. Just a little somethin’.”

“Well, it sure sounded special, to you. And that makes it special.”

“I… guess? Thank you, Yui.” She gently pulled the cover back over the keys, resting her elbows on it. “It was based on a… dream, I had. I remember writing that on the school bus and working on it all day, ‘cos a teacher of mine tried to take the sheet music off’a me when I wasn’t payin’ her mind… can’t stop me grabbin’ it back when she left the room though.”

“Dick.”

She laughed, nodding in agreement though never saying it outright, gentle laughter fading into silence and a soft smile that they shared before the singer averted the gaze put on her.

 “What was the dream about?”

“Hm?” She looked back again, as Yui was still looking at her.

“The dream you had, about that song. What was it?”

“Are you… sure you want to hear it?”

“Kate, we have as much time as we want. Only the ghosts’ll hear you.” Yui pressed her back against the side of her piano, folding her arms across her chest. “C’mon.”

The musician took a pause, sucking in a breath and then letting it out slowly, before she caved and told her tale. “It was… a drive, some red car with the roof sawed off, a crappy convertible that can’t withstand the rain. Ferrari, I think. We were going pretty fast. It was twilight, against the backdrop of the ocean from the cliffside, the pinks and oranges were so… vibrant and free. I stuck my head out of the window and yelled, you know, like a drunk girl at a concert, came back in with my hair across my face, smile stuck to me. S-she was smiling too, my sunset lover. Auburn hair, cut in a bob, sunglasses so big you could hardly see the freckles that dusted her cheeks. Plump lips with bright red lipstick. A dazzling smile. She moved her hand from the gearstick to hold mine, brushed her thumb against my knuckles. She smelled like… pineapples? Or mangos. It was a tropical smell. Very fruity, and nice.”

Yui watched her twirl a bit of her hair between her fingers, face going a little pink as she recalled her dreams, the light dusting of the blush overlaying the freckles and reminding the street racer just how deep she was.

“We pulled up to a car park, near some old beach bar I think, right in front of a bamboo fence that separated the tarmac and the sand. She reached in the back to grab her sunhat - ya know, one of those big floppy things - but I grabbed it from her first, and after she playfully tried to get it back to me, our faces were so, so close… I could smell her fruity smell, and I… we kissed. God, it was like heaven, it was like the world was nothing but at the same time everything, because she was… well, she was it. I dropped her hat out of the window and I’m sure the wind stole it, but I didn’t care. She didn’t care.”

 Yui looked down as she finished, watching Kate fiddling with her hands as her elbows leaned against the piano, trying not to look too embarrassed but failing miserably. It was almost adorable. She swallowed. “...Does it have to be a car?”

“Huh?” Kate looked up to her. The other survivor averted her gaze.

“T-to go on your twilight beach trip, does it have to be in a car?”

“I.. I suppose not? Why does it matter?” She blinked, and paused… before a shy smile spread across her face. “Yui, you-”

“I just- I have… a bike. Means a lot to me. I’ve taken a lot of girls for a ride, but I’ve never… rode to the beach before… maybe, you know, if we make it out of here, I can… take you to that beach.” She fiddled with her collar, forcing herself to meet Kate’s eyes, feeling the heat on her face. She took a breath, before taking to shooting her shot. “...Maybe I can be your sunset lover.”

 Everything else was a rush after that, but at the same time everything around them seemed to stand still. Kate ran hand down Yui’s arm, her touch like silk and skin like sunshine despite the dirt and grime of the fog, fingertips brushing against her softly and delicately before she held onto Yui’s hand, looking down at her perfect nails and running a thumb over her knuckles before she looked up to the other woman through her eyelashes, the smile she had never leaving her face, like an invitation to come in closer. An invitation which Yui took with grace, as with her free hand she cupped the singer’s cheek, moving down to plant a kiss on her lips, one that was slow and tasted like sweet fruits, as she’d always imagined it would, moving her hand down to hold onto Kate’s hip as she still sat at the piano. As she pulled away, she couldn’t help but smile, feeling the other survivor’s lips twinge into a smile of her own as she took Yui’s chin between her forefinger and thumb, grip both firm and gentle and oh so welcome, keeping her close and looking deep into her eyes, her other hand interlocking with the street racer’s that she still held, going in for another kiss; quick, and sweet, before letting her move away again, moving her hand to twirl her curls (perfect and blonde as ever), between two fingers.

“I… wow.” She was breathless, looking down for a moment.

“Yeah?” Yui laughed, then making the singer giggle in response, rubbing the back of her neck rather sheepishly - why did she say that?

Didn’t seem to matter much, though, as Kate seemed… almost… charmed. “...Yeah.”

 She stood to her feet, looking down at the hands still intertwined, gently rocking the union back and forth before she felt a forehead pressed against her own, the two of them sharing a smile that no one else would see, by the window of the old saloon. Well, no one except the old cowboy who had just returned, watching them from across the way, flipping an old, coin in between his fingers.

[casual-eumetazoa]

thanks for the prompt @confused-android​ ! oof, took me longer to write this than i thought (or actually it took me like an hour but i postponed it till my exams were almost over). first - the word “enthralled”? i vibe with it. second - this kinda turned into a vaguely brotzly piece with some autism acceptance on the side, hope that’s okay. third… hope you like this! so here goes

———————

The Case of the Stolen Flower Basket (as dubbed, unofficially, by Dirk) started out on a more relaxed note than most of their cases: in a flowershop, with a stolen basket. A basket, mind you, that was stolen in broad daylight from a closed room, under mysterious circumstances.

It also started with Dirk ending up in a flowershop, accidentally, while he was trying to find an ice-cream place. And it wasn’t even a case then, as much as Dirk’s brief but intense obsession with closed room mysteries, but I digress.

Point is, a basket was missing, a basket thief was at large, and the holistic crew of the holistic detective agency found themselves in a huge abandoned storing space, following up on a “lead”. Todd, Dirk and Farah walked the damp bleak corridors, opening any block that seemed suspicious. Most of them did, and most contained a truly bizarre collection of items.

One was filled up entirely with broken IKEA furniture. One was stuffed to the brim with an assortment of left shoes. And, perhaps most unsettling, one consisted of nothing but headless dolls of various shapes and sizes, along with some disfigured plush animals.

-What the hell was this place? – Todd wondered, prying open yet another door.

Behind it was an empty space, containing exactly one chair with exactly one empty jar perched on the edge of its seat.

-The warehouse of a profoundly odd collector. – Dirk proclaimed. – He… had an excess of money, and wanted to collect things, but the normal things people collect like stamps or candy wrappers were too boring for him, so he did this instead.

-Found anything important? – Farah’s voice echoed against the crumbling walls.

-Yes! – Dirk yelled back.

-No. – Todd corrected, then turned back to Dirk. – An eccentric collector then huh? – Evidently, he had decided to entertain Dirk’s guess. – What about this one then?

He pointed at the nearest door and immediately proceeded to kick it down. It was meant to be a slight push, but instead the door caved in completely, slipping off its hinges and crashing against the floor with a deafening metal rumble.

-Sorry! – Todd bit his lip.

He saw Dirk wince and then almost shrivel up at the sound, arms pulled suddenly towards his chest, as if trying to protect himself from the noise.

Noises. Dirk did not do well with them. And Todd knew that all too well.

-Sorry. – He repeated. – I didn’t mean to do… that.

-It’s fine. – Dirk mumbled, trying his best to shake off the feeling and get back into investigative mood. – What’s in it then?

They stepped over the dilapidated door and into the tight storage space. Inside it were a few pieces of old furniture, half a dozen sealed boxes, at least a whole heap of sawdust, and…

-Todd! – Dirk really did try to tone down the enthusiasm, but alas. – Look!

First, Todd noticed Dirk’s flapping arms, and the smile on his face, and felt his own lips stretch into a grin. Only then he turned to check what was in there, and realized that the wall of the storage space was lined up with various musical instruments. Guitars, mostly; electric, acoustic, even toy ones…

-It’s your thing! – Dirk beamed.

-Yeah. – Todd agreed. – It’s my thing.

He approached the wall and picked up one of the guitars.

-It’s expensive. – He declared, and checked the instrument for any signs of wear and tear. – And new. Damn. – He went slowly through the collection. – Well, these aren’t the very top of the chain, but they’re fancier than I used to have.

He took one of the electric guitars – a slick, bright red beauty – and held it gently in his hands. He hadn’t played guitar since he bashed his last one against the wall of the Ridgley building… that happened less than a year prior, and yet it seemed a lifetime away.

-Can we take some? – Dirk asked, then, not waiting for a reply, picked out one of the guitars at random. – They’re no-ones so it doesn’t count as stealing.

-I guess I could take one or two. – Todd agreed. – They’re as good as thrown out at this point. No use for them collecting dust in here.

-Where the hell are you two? – Farah’s voice chimed through the corridor.

-Over here! – Dirk shouted back.

-Ugh. – Todd muttered. – I have to pick now. Wait. Actually… - He looked at the guitar he had in his hands, then the one Dirk was still holding, and smiled with the corner of his mouth. – Those two are good. Let’s go.

-Guys. – Farah nearly avoided a collision with the broken door as she entered the storage space. – You should see this. Now. – She paused. – I think I found a skeleton.

The guitars were then stashed in the corner, and waited patiently for their new owner to crawl on all fours into a basement, poke some human bones with a stick, and emerge – dusty, exhausted, and deeply confused.

*

The evening was slow and peaceful. While Farah was busy making phone calls and trying to arrange for someone to examine, discretely and unofficially, a mysterious unidentified skeleton, Todd and Dirk stayed in Todd’s apartment. Or, rather, at the apartment that used to be Todd’s. He didn’t remember the last time he had a dinner there, and besides, Dirk spent more nights than not in the guest bedroom, so it was really their apartment.

-Do you have any ideas about how the basket connects to the skeleton yet? – Todd asked, placing two cups of tea on the table.

He didn’t have to ask Dirk what he wanted; he knew his (rather narrow) range of food and drink preferences by heart.

-Not a clue. – Dirk admitted, and raised his gaze to the ceiling, staring attentively at some smudge. – I think we should go to Claire’s house.

-Why the owner’s house? – Todd asked.

-Feels relevant. – Dirk shrugged, eyes still focused on the smudge. – Oh. – He turned in his seat suddenly. – The guitars! Can you play for me?

Todd sighed. He anticipated this happening.

-Well, - he said, - I can’t play the electric one cause you need equipment for it and we didn’t steal any, and I haven’t played an acoustic guitar in like two years, but…

-I don’t care if it’s not your best or some equally stupid excuse. – Dirk interrupted him. – You know I’ll be impressed no matter what.

Todd laughed shortly, and nodded. It was true – Dirk was impressed and excited by seemingly everything, from the fluffy blanket assortment at Walmart (he had to touch every. single. one.) to the Sacred Wisdom shared with him by Todd that the number on the package of pasta tells you how long it will take to cook it. Dirk was also somehow oblivious to his own talents, insisting that connecting eleven entirely unrelated pieces of information into a complete narrative was “simple” and “obvious”.

-Fine. – Todd caved in, and got up to fetch the acoustic guitar. – But I probably won’t know the cords of the songs you like.

Considering that Dirk mostly listened to obscure European rock music, 80s pop, and Disney soundtracks, it was hardly surprising.

-Not tuned at all, probably. – Todd, the guitar now in hands, returned to his seat and gave the strings a test stroke. – Yep. – He nodded. – Gimme a few minutes.

He tuned the guitar as best as he could, and tapped his fingers on the table, trying to decide what to play. Dirk had watched him with curiosity and was now sipping his tea, waiting for the music to start. Todd paused, took a deep breath in, and began to play the first song that he was sure he remembered – “Behind Blue Eyes”.

The music flowed; Todd focused on the movement of his fingers, on the vibration of the string, and the metal at his fingertips. He sang the words softly, almost as an afterthought. He had forgotten how good it felt to make music happen. The song was in the air, brought to life by the motion of his hands, and the night was young, and he was lost in the moment. He skipped the electric guitar solo and went straight to the final reprise of the chorus.

Then the music stopped, and silence fell on his shoulders. He kept quiet, not saying anything, waiting for Dirk to react. That is when Todd realized that Dirk wasn’t talking – and Dirk was always talking. He talked over movies, and news on the TV, and shop assistants and, on one memorable occasion, over a talking parrot. It’s not that he was rude - it’s just that his head was so full of words, constantly, that they had to be let out.

But Dirk wasn’t talking now. Now he simply sat in his place, eyes transfixed on Todd’s hands, blinking.

-Are you okay? – Todd asked.

There was a pause.

-Mmm? – Dirk blinked faster and looked up, meeting Todd’s gaze, startled slightly, as if waking up from a pleasant dream. – Yes. Yes of course I’m okay.

-You kinda zoned out a little bit.

-I did?

-Yeah.

-You play really good music. – Dirk smiled softly.

-Thanks. – Todd smiled back.

-It’s nice to not be… attacked by sound for a change. – Dirk added.  – Can you… keep, playing, please?

-Sure. – Todd replied. -I mean, I don’t remember that many songs, and…

He remembered enough songs for a whole mini-at-home concert.

*

It doesn’t end there.

Together, they spend many an evening consumed by music, music brought to life by Todd, for Dirk, specifically for Dirk, and for him only. Todd plays everything – every song he has ever loved, acoustic versions of Mexican Funeral pieces, approximate renditions of whatever is on the radio these days…

Dirk makes requests. Todd googles guitar tabs and practices while Dirk is still asleep, in the ungodly early hours of the morning, sitting on the windowsill of the apartment block while people leave for first shifts at work. He has performed in front of huge crowds, and music journalists, and many girls (and guys…) he was trying to impress – but nothing has ever felt as personal, crucial, tender, as playing for Dirk.

The skeleton is identified, and the stolen basket is discovered. The convoluted twists and turns of the story, which involves a near-extinct flower, a 77-year-old Russian spy and an actual African prince, come to their natural close. The excitement and danger are over, if only for a brief respite, and peace is restored. A new case will arrive soon enough… but until then, they have their tiny apartment, and Todd has his guitars, and music lingers in the air, and Dirk is enthralled with the music, still and speechless in his seat.

They look at each other, and they understand each other precisely, and, for once in his life, Dirk has no words, and needs no words, and wants nothing else but to listen. God knows, his life is never safe or simple, but now Todd is here, and the world is really not that bad, and he is happy.

The Earth continues to spin. New bizarre, perplexing and astonishing things will happen. Songs will be played, and words will be said in time. Maybe, in part at least, because someone ran, and never looked back, and left behind all their belongings, even their very expensive guitars…

Sometimes – most of the times – the Universe wants them to help it. But, on this occasion, it is gracious enough to help them in return.

[gotboredwrote]

Chapter 9: The Scheme

[[The American Publicist // JRD]]

Pairing: John Richard Deacon x Reader Word Count: 7.1K Style: Multi-Chapter Warnings: Swearing, references to sex/sexual themes (nothing explicit) Summary: Y/N was just hired to become a co-manager and publicist for the band Queen. The boys had never travelled abroad, so meeting an American was . . . intriguing, to say the least. Permanent Author’s Note: To clarify, I write because I get bored. Nothing is meant to be professional in any way, nor is meant to offend, cause anxiety, cause anger, cause sadness, or promote disagreement among readers in any sort of (semi)permanent way. A/N:  SPOILER: I WENT HARDCORE INTO ONE OF MY FAVORITE TROPES AT THE END #SORRYNOTSORRY

Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter // Masterpost

~

[previously…]

“Alright, Fred. What’d you find out?”

“She’s into him! You were right, Roger, you sly dog!”

“Well, Rog, if you are so smart, what do you suppose the next move should be then?” Brian was looking at Roger with a disapproving face, while Freddie was giddy with glee about playing matchmaker.

“A scheme of sorts. We need to arrange it so they can go on an adventure together, and then somehow end up needing to stay together, preferably at his house. They need a push to confess, because honestly if I see another gushy moment between the two of them and they aren’t official, I am going to shove their faces together myself.”

“Amen, Roger, amen.”

~

Once the three scheming musketeers had made their ways home, a three-way call ensued. Considering the weekend was right around the corner, the boys had very little time to conjure up a plan and put it into action. Freddie wanted to get started right away.

“Aright, darlings. Let’s get started. I think we all know where their evening needs to end up, but we need to figure out-”

“Wait… where does their evening end up?”

“Roger, I may be the stoic one here compared to you and Fred, but even I know what he is referring to.”

“Well, sorry, Brian, for apparently being stupid. You know, I was the one who figured out there were feelings between them, so we wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for that!”

“Relax, Rog, there is only room in this phone call for one hysterical queen.” Roger and Brian were back to listening to Freddie intently. “Also, I did get the confession out of Y/N, so don’t take that away from me. Anyway, here is what I am thinking. Our two lovebirds have a habit of injuring each other, and not in the fun way. So, we need them to a place where they cannot get hurt. Here’s what I’m thinking – John looks at her like she’s the most beautiful thing his eyes have ever seen. I’m sure if he was much more open as a person, he would have told us those exact words. Why not send them to a place where the beauty he sees in her will be illuminated further?”

Roger and Brian were looking at Freddie like he was crazy. Nothing was coming to mind as what could do what he wanted to do.

“Are you really not thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Fred, when is anyone in the same headspace you are?”

“Ha ha, funny Roger. But really! I was thinking of reserving them tickets to an aquarium! Our two little friends are both quiet people that love to learn, which can be done at an aquarium, plus aquariums usually have beautiful lighting! And the water will reflect small rays on their skin. Just think – John sees Y/N like that on a day to day basis. He’ll practically be bursting at the seams seeing her glowing and having a great time! We can buy them two all-day admission tickets, an I’ll give them to Y/N saying that this is for all the work and shit that she has had to put up with since she started working with us. I’ll also say that we are taking Saturday off and suggest that she take her best friend, John!”

“Fred, I love the plan. There’s one part of your plan that you haven’t thought out, though. You want their night to end with them staying together. It’s not like you can send them away to an aquarium trip where they’d need to book a hotel room. How exactly do you plan on getting them to one of their houses? It’s not like John wouldn’t drive her home in any situation at any time.”

Brian was right – and Freddie knew it. So did all the boys. John would do anything for you in any situation. If the boys were going to get a confession out of either of you, it was not going to be in a public place. It needed to be in a place where the two of you could be alone and where you felt safe. That basically meant the studio or one of your homes. The boys ruled out the studio because part of the plan was to tell you two that Saturday was a maintenance day for the building and it would not be open. That way the two of you would actually feel like you did not need to do any work. That was a personality trait the two of you shared that you had made note of early on – a workaholic nature shared between the two of you.

“So,” Roger broke the silence, “what are we going to tell them? We can’t freak her or him out by saying that there’s an accident in their neighborhoods and no one can go in or out. We also can’t just bluntly tell them that part of the deal is that they have to spend the night together since we bought the tickets.”

Roger saw the cogs turning in Freddie’s brain. So did Brian.

“Fred, no. You can’t be serious.”

“Fred yes! Think about it, Brian. Why wouldn’t it work? The two of them are practically inseparable already, I mean she told me just now before she left to have John call her when he got home. They were just together, and she wants to talk before they go to bed. It’s amazing to me that they haven’t already had a sleepover. Something tells me that if we told them that as part of the deal, we would like for them to spend the night at one of their houses, just to save them gas money or something, I really think they would consider it!”

Slowly, Brian and Roger began to see what Freddie was envisioning in his head. He really had a point. The two of you really were inseparable, so who is to say that you both were not chomping at the bit to have an excuse to spend the night at each other’s places? The three of them collectively agreed that this was the plan to move forward, and that Brian would make the arrangements to get the tickets first thing tomorrow for Saturday.

~

Ring… ring… ri-

“John?”

“Hello, love.”

“Freddie actually told you to call. That’s a first.”

“Probably would have called anyway, knowing myself.”

The call only lasted about fifteen minutes, yet you managed to talk about tons of things. Some basic things that you had not had a chance to discuss during the recording sessions, John told you about some new lines that he had to hammer out, you told him about the progress of Roger’s binder, and other small talk. Eventually you brought up the whole playing Brian’s guitar debacle, completely unaware of how that whole situation made John’s skin crawl.

“I had fun playing with you guys today. Even if it was Brian’s instrument.”

“What do you mean by that, love?”

“By what?”

“The ‘even if it was Brian’s instrument’ part. What do you mean?”

John did not have to audibly hear it, but he could tell that your breath hitched in your throat in anticipation of what you were going to say. He wanted you to say that you would have much rather have been playing his bass, standing pressed right up against him instead of Brian. He wanted you to say that the guitar really is not your style, but the bass is. And you did.

“Truly? I would have much rather have helped you play. I thought maybe since you’ve kind of been teaching me that there was… I don’t know, a reason? Besides being close and all.”

John thought his brain repeated itself, but eventually it dawned on him that the words were being spoken in your voice, because he was talking to you. You had said you would have much rather been helping him play. The anger that was still simmering underneath him at Brian completely faded away. That’s why you never moved in closer to Brian – you wanted to be near John. And then the last part of your answer clicked in his head. He said you two were close. No mention of the phrase “best friend.” Not that he hated the term – he was perfectly fine just getting to be around you every single day. But this time you did not use the dreaded phrase. You two were just “close,” and that gave him a glimmer of hope. You snapped him out of his trance with a question.

“Do you think that’ll ever get to happen?”

“Wh-what? Will what happen?”

“Me getting to help you play. I know I’m not good yet, and will never be as good as you, but… if you ever need help playing during a take, I need you to promise me that it’ll be me that you ask. Okay?”

“That’s a promise. If I was with you, I’d shake your pinky, love.”

You giggled at his childish response, but he could not see the dusty pink over your cheeks. He made you so happy, with even the simplest of words and gestures. Even if he did not mean them in the way that you hoped he did, you appreciated them nonetheless. After the promise, a comfortable silence filled the phones, both of you waiting to see if the other had any other last-minute things you wanted to say. A bold thought crossed your head and you debated even saying it, thinking it might be too risky. Screw it, you said.

“Hey, John?”

“Mhm?”

“How would…” You were regretting it. If you were going to say never mind, now was your chance. “How would… you feel about maybe one night having a movie night? Whichever house we choose, we can just stay there one night. Just enjoy each other’s company, share favorite movies. I’m sorry if that would make you uncomfortable or nervous, and just shoot me down if-”

“I would love to, Y/N.”

“Really? Like, you’re not messing with me? Because, John Deacon, I swear if you get my hopes up and then crush me!”

“Do you really think I could ever do that to you?”

He turned the call serious. You did not intend for it to become serious. Your question about having a movie night was, but your response after him saying he would love to was meant to be funny. And John knew that. He wanted to be funny in response, but his want to make sure you knew that he would always be there for you was stronger. He was in love with you, and even if he did not have the courage to drive to your place, stand on your doorstep, and tell you that passionately, he was bound and determined to show it to you in any way he could.

“No, I don’t.”

“Good. Because I can’t and I won’t, love. Even when you leave us for some up and coming American band, I will always be your best friend. I will make you come visit us.”

“You won’t have to make me, John, I’ll always come visit.”

He could hear the sadness in your voice at the prospect of eventually having to leave. You both were thinking all the time about some scheme of your own to find a way to get you to stay. Neither of you came up with anything but the obvious; get him/her to be my boyfriend/girlfriend. Obviously, that was not happening any time soon, not on your own accord. You needed a push. Another wave of silence washed over the phone, but this time the air was a little sad. You broke it again, with the intention of ending things on a happier note. You failed.

-“…thanks for being my best friend, John. I needed someone like you in my life, and I don’t want you to ever leave.”

“…don’t want you to leave, either, love.”

“I’ll let you sleep now, John. I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Same time, same place, love. Good night.”

“Night, Johnny.”

Click.

‘Johnny,’ huh? First, she adopted the nickname he reserved for her, and now an endearing pet name? This girl was going to be the death of him, in one of two ways. The first would be by ripping his heart to shreds the day he dropped her off at the airport to go back to the states. He did not refer to it as her home anymore, because of one conversation they had had a while back. She had told him that America no longer felt like home. Being in the studio and spending countless hours working on paperwork while John lightly strummed his bass, or the boys bickering, or all the times you would all go out to eat. That felt like home now. The other way? Well, if he ever worked up the courage to ask you out, there would be many nights where you would make him feel overwhelmed, and he would make sure that you had nights where he would be the death of you. You both had no trouble falling asleep that night, contrary to what you thought would be the case, considering the call ended in such a sad tone. You both laid in bed thinking the same thing, and fell asleep right after.

“God I just need to hear him/her say it. Just please say it. That’ll be enough.”

~

The next day, everyone gathered in the studio at the normal time, except for Brian. Roger and Freddie played it off by acting like they had no idea why Brian was late. Miami did not really care, since at this point, you all kept him out of your shenanigans because he, well, he asked you to. You and John, meanwhile were actually confused and thought maybe he was sick. It was almost 9:30am by the time that Brian walked through the doors. He did not look disheveled, did not look sick. Nothing seemed off. You and John tilted your heads simultaneously as if to say “what’s the excuse?” Brian picked up on his cue to keep the plan a secret, and answered normally.

“Took a new route to work, thinking it would be faster. Clearly, it wasn’t. I won’t be taking that route again. But I’ve wasted precious time, let’s get cracking, lads!”

No one particularly minded the lazy morning, so Brian’s eagerness to start working earned a groan from each of the band members. All of you were hanging out in the control room when he walked in. Freddie and Miami were sipping on wine and whisky, respectively, and Roger was sprawled out across the coffee table to whatever reason, flipping his drumsticks around in his hands. You and John were sitting on the loveseat across from Roger, you sitting upright while John’s head was in your lap, him lying on his back. You were lightly running your fingers through either the ends of his hair or his short, wispy bangs. Another tell-tale sign to the boys that the two of you are inseparable, and they were beginning to feel that their plan just might go somewhere. Roger and Freddie made their ways into the back, making sure to carry what it was they were holding in the control room, while John turned his head so his right cheek laid lightly against the fabric of the shirt you were wearing against your abdomen. He sighed up at you lightly, giving you a contented smile before forcing himself up from your lap. He had not even made it out of the room into the booth yet and the space where the weight of his head was felt cold and empty. Like you were missing something. You guessed that the sad feelings from the phone call the night before had not fully gone away by the time you woke up. Especially since you felt a thump in your chest when John shut the door to the booth behind him. Your body registered that as him leaving you, even though you could only not see him for three seconds while he stood behind the closed door. You hated that you felt this way about someone that you knew would not be a permanent member of your life. You wanted to find a way to make it work, desperately. As did John. The morning went like any other recording session, a bit of bickering here and there, mostly covered up by the angelic sound that is Queen. Time flew by while you worked and they jammed out, and before you knew it, it was almost 1:00pm and it was time for you all to go to lunch. The five of you decided to go to your normal spot and get your normal order. You were just having a normal conversation when Freddie changed the subject, rather abruptly, you might add.

“Y/N, darling, did you have plans for this upcoming Saturday?”

“Fred… we have work, Saturday. That’s my plan.”

“Oh, did they not tell you yet? Silly people. Work was cancelled on Saturday. It is one of the quarterly maintenance days of the year, and the building requires that no one outside of maintenance is in the building so they have full access. So, that should mean you are free, right? Of course, it does!” He did not even give you a chance to respond, and the gaping face you were making made John chuckle. You nudged him with your elbow lightly, laughing at him laughing at you. Freddie continued after yours and Johns exchange. “Since you are newly freed up, I wanted to offer you a gift.”

“Freddie, I don’t need anything!”

“Nonsense, darling! You have had to put up with quite a bit since you started working with us, and we have taken days off when you were in the studio, so you have earned a break. The lads and I chipped in and bought you two tickets to that massive aquarium a couple blocks away from the studio building!”

You were taking in all the words Freddie was spilling your way, and when he said ‘the lads,’ you assumed that included John. You turned to him and noticed that his eyes were squinted in confusion just like you, and you knew that this had nothing to do with him. Your mind then flashed back to the question Freddie had asked you the night before about your feelings towards John. You were terrified all of a sudden that he had told Brian and Roger, and that fear quickly turned to anger, because you thought you could trust him to keep it a secret. Apparently not.

“Now, darling, you may be wondering why I got you two tickets. Well, I figured you would not want to spend your day alone, so I was going to suggest that you take your best friend Deaky with you! You two could have a lovely afternoon out, and then maybe even go back to his place afterwards for a movie or something!”

Now both you and john were gaping. The thing he suggested doing at the end made you both fear that somehow, he had tapped your phones and listened in on the conversation you two had. It was exactly what you two wanted to do at some point.

”Wow, um… that’s such a coincidence you mention a movie night. We were talking about that last night, on the phone.”

“I’m not opposed to the idea love, plus the tickets are free. Would you want to go to the aquarium with me Saturday?”

“Now hold on, you two.” Roger jumped in, which meant that there was a catch to this little plan the boys had. “You can have the tickets at no cost if you make a promise to us. You clearly want to have a night together, as best friends, so in order for us to give you the tickets willingly, there are two things you have to do for us.” Neither of you particularly liked the way he was looking at you, but you waited to hear what he had to say. “The first is that the movie night you two want to have? Have it after the aquarium and make it a sleepover. Second, John I know you have a polaroid camera. Take a picture of you two in a place where I know I’ll recognize your house. We need proof this sleepover happened. That sound like a deal?”

You and John looked at each other with wide eyes, trying to hide the fact that you both were internally battling two separate ideas in your heads. Both of you were terrified about the prospect of spending the night together, but at the same time, you both desperately wanted it to happen. You gave John a soft smile, and he knew exactly what to say to Roger.

“It’s a deal.”

~

The three started to make their way to the car, while you went to the bathroom and John waited for you. They had a moment to let it sink in that their plan worked.

“Well. That went better than expected.”

“I told you wankers it would work. They just needed a little push.” Freddie was clearly proud of himself.

“…d’you think that John’ll take a picture of Y/N in any sort of provactive way?”

“ROGER!” Freddie was trying his hardest not to fall to the ground in laughter, while Brian respected your privacy enough to be embarrassed for you.

‘WHAT? It could happen! These two clearly want to shag, so who’s to say it won’t happen?”

Thankfully, the end of Roger’s sentence happened right as the two of you made your way out of the restaurant and you never heard a word they said. Their plan was falling right into place, and all that was left was to get you two to the aquarium.

~

“Today’s the day… my… what technically is this?” You were thinking aloud as you were getting ready for the Saturday ahead of you. You were trying to figure out what you would technically classify your day with John as. On the surface to anyone getting just the facts, it looks like a date. Hell, it is a date. Except you two did not arrange it – John’s sneaky bandmates did. And now you have a reason to assume Freddie told Brian and Roger about the “confession” you gave him. So, in reality, to you and John, the two that ultimately mattered, today is not a date. To everyone else, it is. Not to mention the fact that you are going to be spending the night at his house. Like that does not scream “date” to an onlooker. Brian bought tickets for the afternoon, so you and John decided to go around 3:00pm. That way you could go back to his house and cook dinner together before putting on a movie. You and him had talked about the dinner privately, not wanting to give the boys any more ammunition as to how seriously you two were taking this day. Your clock read 11:00am. That meant you had about three hours before John would be outside your apartment complex. A number of things ran through your mind. Some things were off of a mental checklist, things like what you wanted to wear for the day and what you needed to bring for the overnight part of your adventure/date. You also made it a point to pick out a couple of your favorite VHS tapes to bring with you. (I did some research and I know that VHS wasn’t a thing until 1976, which is like juuuust after I imagine this story to take place. Bear with me. I also completely screwed up when John wrote YMBF earlier in the story so like timeline? Never heard of her.) Among other things, you were wondering what types of animals this aquarium was going to have, you thought about whether or not you should bring John a gift for letting you stay overnight, and you thought about what his little cottage looked like in person. He had talked about it before, and you had seen it from the outside, but you had never been in it. The house was beautiful and quaint. The first time you saw it, you made a note in your notes that you imagined John was the domestic type. He had already earned a decent amount of money from the first Queen album, and the other lads had clearly used the money on lavish things. John kept his home and put the money away for important things down the road. You really admired it about him, and it might have frankly been one of the first things that attracted you to him. He was not a stupid, impulsive rock star. He was just John Richard Deacon. Before you could get too lost in your thoughts, you snapped yourself out of them and picked out an outfit to wear. You settled on one of your favorites that you knew would be comfortable for the entire day. It was a very basic white tee shirt with a breast pocket and cuffed sleeves. It did not hug your figure, but by no means was it baggy. It accentuated all the right parts of you. You also chose your favorite pair of overalls, which were loose fitting and a deep, rich forest green with cuffs at the ankles, as well. They rose up just enough to show your ankles, and they were fitted similar to the shirt – not baggy, but just loose enough to breathe. You also threw on a simple pair of black flip flops. The icing on the cake was making sure that John’s necklace was seated on top of your shirt and not underneath. You had never taken the necklace off, not once. You thought John had not noticed that. He did, every day, in fact. If the bass charm had slipped underneath your shirt without you noticing, he would make a point to look at your neck to see if he could see the chain. He did not mean for it to seem creepy, he just wanted to make sure his best friend was still there for him. Once you had settled on your outfit, you hopped in the shower where your mind continued its rambling from earlier. You were nervous about the day, but were doing a really good job at hiding it, aside from the occasional playing with the necklace out of habit. John, on the other hand, was practically having a full-blown panic attack. He had gotten up bright and early, deciding that his already spotless home needed to be cleaned more. He cleaned and straightened everything that he felt needed to be cleaned and straightened. Once that was done, he made sure that he had tons of options for dinner so you would be happy with whatever you decided to cook. He also made sure to pull out his bin of VHS tapes so you had a bunch to choose from. Then, once he had done all of that, he went through his entire wardrobe figuring out what he was going to wear. He settled on something that he did not know was one of your favorite shirts of his – that white, silky button up that he only buttoned about halfway up. He also chose a pair of dark brown slacks, and a simple pair of tennis shoes. He felt confident in his choice, but was still freaking out on the inside. 12:30pm his clock read at this point. He was just sitting staring at the clock in his bedroom not knowing what else to do before he was to be outside your apartment complex at 2:00pm. He decided to fix himself lunch, and call the boys.

Ring… ring… ring… ring…

“Johnny boy! How’s my darling bassist?”

“Hello, Fred. Could you get Brian and Roger on the phone, too?”

“Of course, give me two moments…”

The waiting was the worst. John really for in his own head in those two minutes.

“Hello, John.”

“’sup, Deaky?”

Now that John had all three of his bandmates on the phone, he practically word-vomited his fears to them without taking a single breath.

“Alright so I’m really freaking out here because I got up really early thinking that the house wasn’t clean enough so I cleaned everything and polished everything and laid out some newer decorations that I had recently bought and hadn’t put out yet and then when that was done I wasn’t sure what else I needed to do so I made a mess of my closet trying to figure out if this was a formal or informal day that we’re having because I don’t know what this really is and then I had to make sure that I had enough options for dinner because she suggested that we cook dinner together when we got back here and I said that sounded good and now I don’t know if she likes what I have or if she has an allergy or if I should’ve bought some American food to make her feel more comfortable and I’m genuinely starting to freak out because I’m in love with her and I don’t want to mess this up and I even bought and put out a candle that she mentioned she loved and brought my bass out in case she wants to hear me play—”

“JOHN!”

John let out a shuttering breath, realizing that he had not paused that entire time.

“Darling. There are a couple things I think we all want to ask you about, but there’s one that stands out particularly. Right towards the end of that… speech… you said something. Repeat it.”

“That I bought a candle she likes?”

“Ugh, John, you’re so hopeless sometimes.” John could practically hear the eye roll that came from Roger’s words.

“No darling, right before that.”

“That I am freaking out because I’m in love with—”

Brian, Roger, and Freddie were all smirking through the phone at John’s reaction to realizing he just confessed.

“Oh. That part. Um, I guess the cat’s out of the bag. I agreed so quickly to this idea because I don’t have the courage to ask her out myself. I kind of hoped she would think of this as a date. But then I remembered that she doesn’t feel the same way as me.”

It took all the strength the three had to not scream into the phone that they knew you felt the same way and that that was the exact reason they were sending you two on this adventure. They wanted to keep it a secret that they knew about John’s feelings for you and your feelings for him. Their goal in all of this is to squeeze a confession out of both of you. They did not want to ruin the feeling that would overtake you both when those words moved past each other’s lips. The three of them had experienced it, and to their knowledge, John had not. They were not about to take it away from him. Freddie chose his next words carefully.

“John. Listen. We have all been on those dates where we are infatuated with the person we are with, and are terrified to put ourselves in that vulnerable state because we don’t know what they’re really thinking. I completely get where you are at the moment, and I’m sure Brian and Roger do, too. And let me say this – even if this doesn’t turn into a quote-on-quote “date,” that doesn’t mean you cannot have the best day of your damn life with her. You’ve said it yourself – she’s your best fucking friend. Enjoy her presence and see where things go. If the moment feels right, let her know what’s going on in your head, and who knows? Maybe you’ll be in for a pleasant surprise. Just have confidence in yourself, John, and just have a good time. You’re not losing her anytime soon, but enjoy her while you can.”

John knew Freddie was right, and he definitely chose his words correctly. John had no idea that you were also in love with him like the three of them did. He felt a lot better after hearing Freddie talk, regardless. He waited a minute to see if Roger or Brian would say anything, and when they did not, John whispered into the phone.

“Thank you, Freddie. That really helped. Sniff…”

“John, Jesus, are you crying now?”

“Roger, be nice, we know how big of a deal this is for John now.”

“I know that, Brian. Sorry, John. Didn’t mean to make it seem like I’m annoyed with you. I’m not. I just forget that some people don’t date as frequently as I do.”

“DATE? YOU GUYS JUST SAID THIS ISN’T A DATE!”

“Dammit Roger!”

“That’s not—that’s not what I meant, John! I just meant that you two are going out together, and even though it’s just as friends. Ah, dammit. Sorry.”

The calm that John had felt left as quick as it came. And now, it was worse. Did the three of them want this to be a date? Did you think this was a date? Was he underdressed? Did you have expectations of him?

“John, darling, I can hear the cogs in your brain turning like mad. Relax, everything is going to be fine.”

“But if I’m not interrupting anything, John, my clock is reading 1:30pm, and you need to be at her flat in 30 minutes, do you not?”

“Oh! Yes, thank you Brian! And… thanks, lads. You’ve helped a lot. I’ll see you on Monday.”

Click.

Little did John know, when he hung up the phone, the other boys stayed on the line.

“Well done, Roger. You almost ruined the surprise for outr poor little Deaky.”

“It isn’t my fault that he is clueless about Y/N’s feelings!”

“Let’s just hope neither of them chicken out. This confession needs to happen, otherwise, Roger will be taking matters into his own hands.”

~

2:05pm. If it was not John we were talking about here, you would be concerned that he forgot about the day. You were waiting in the air-conditioned lobby of your building when you saw John’s car pull up out front. You took a deep breath and made your way through the doors. John had just exited his car and made eye contact with you while you walked through the front doors of the building. Completely contrary to how he was feeling, John smiled at you toothily and his signature eye wrinkles came out, and you melted on the spot. You really loved his man, and could not wait to go on… whatever this was with him. John noticed you had a bag hung across your back. He ran over and popped his trunk for you to put it in, and he met you there.

“Hi!”

“Hello. You ready to head over?”

“So ready.”

You two hopped in his car, and started the drive to the aquarium. You had about a fifty-minute drive ahead of you guys, so you decided to kill the time by just mindlessly chattering or belting out the songs that came across the radio. Well, it was mainly you that sang – John just sat there contently listening to you. Every once in a while, you would lightly grab his shoulder and urge him to sing with you, and the few times you tried it, it worked. And John’s voice made you feel so warm inside. He had a voice that in your head almost matched Freddie’s, but you were the only one who thought so. You did not care what anyone else thought – you fully felt confident in your choice to think that. Right at 3:00pm, the two of you pulled into the aquarium, and you were amazed at the grandeur of the building. Freddie hit the nail on the head about where to send you guys. You had not even made it into the aquarium and John was looking at you like you put the stars in the sky. John parked the car and you made your way into the building. John handed the admission lady your tickets, and you were free to begin your trek through the massive aquarium. Slowly but surely you made your way through each of the exhibits. Certain exhibits made you clearly more excited than others, and one of them was the shark tank. You adored sharks and was super excited to point out each type to John, showing him what you knew about them. When you turned around to see if John was paying attention, you noticed he was looking a little bit pale in the face.

“You okay, John? You don’t look like you feel good.”

“Wh-what? Oh yeah, ‘m okay…”

“Johnny, I know you. Something’s wrong.”

“Well, if you must know, I’m not the… fondest of sharks.”

“Oh, John, I’m sorry! I kept you in front of them for too long, we can keep going. C’mon!” With that, you laced your hand in his and pulled him toward the next exhibit. John’s heart was already beating roughly because of fear, but now it was beating because of your touch. It sent him through the roof on the inside, but he tried his best to keep his cool on the outside. He did not want to get his hopes up that you grabbed his hand for any reason other than to drag him to the next room, except you got there. And your hand did not move. The rest of the trip at the aquarium, your hand stayed placed inside of his. Eventually, John’s heart rate slowed down, the feeling of your hands interlocked becoming normal. He was seeing how people looked at you both adoringly, and with your hand in his, he was really starting to feel like this was a date. It seemed like the two hours flew by, but before either of you realized it, it was slightly after 5:00pm and it was time for you two to drive home. The two of you still had not let go of each other’s hands, and when you made it to the car, there was a slight bit of hesitation. Neither of you wanted to let go of the other. John walked you around to the passenger seat, opened the door for you, and you two slowly let go of your hands. You plopped down in your seat, and John practically sprinted around to the driver’s side. As soon as both of you were buckled into your seatbelts, chose a radio station, and pulled safely out of the parking lot, John’s hand came to rest facing upward and open on the console in between the two of you. You looked at his face and saw that he looked nervous about the gesture, but calmed him down immensely by placing your hand back in his, right where it belonged. It stayed there for the entirety of the ride. There was still the slightly more intense heart beating shared between the two of you, but about forty minutes into the ride, the lovesick heart rates turned rapid when a certain song came on the radio.

“John… is that…”

“We’re on the radio.”

“You’re on the radio! John, Queen is on the freaking radio!”

“Um…yeah wow…”

You almost broke his hand with how hard you were squeezing it. You began to belt out the words to “Keep Yourself Alive” with an intense enthusiasm. John still did not sing with you, but his smile was from ear to ear hearing you belt out one of their songs with such glee. While you aggressively squeezed his hand, he simply stroked his thumb from side to side on your hand just to let you know that he acknowledged everything you were doing. You both were still feeling a little bit airy from the mini concert you put on with the radio earlier when you pulled in John’s driveway, and you started to feel the nerves that were overtaking John all evening. You had seen his house from this angle before, but you were about to see the inside for the first time. For some reason, you could not help but think something as you walked through the doors.

“I could see myself settling down in a place like this.”

You two had made your ways through the door and you were just taking in the cleanliness and homey feeling it had. You loved it. It made you never want to leave. You were just taking in everything he had in his living room when he noticed you were just standing in the doorway.

“Y/N, love, you do know you can come in, right?”

“Yeah! Yeah… I’m just taking it all in.”

“Do you hate it? We can go to your house if you hate—”

“John, I’m in awe because I love it. It’s a beautiful and quaint house. It honestly is so you.”

John simply smiled in response and shuffled a little bit on his feet. He was feeling the nerves kick in again, and then he started to ramble on about everything planned for the night.

“Well, I have a bunch of different options for dinner, we can cook whatever you fancy. Then after that, I pulled out a bin of all the VHS tapes I have and we can choose one of those to watch. We can just do whatever you want, just… tell me what you want and it’s yours.”

“While I really appreciate that John, there is one thing I would like to do before all of that.”

“Mhm?”

“Could I put my overnight bag where I will be sleeping?”

“Oh! Yes! Sorry. Follow me, Y/N.”

John led you up the short flight of steps to the upper level of his house, and nonchalantly opened the door to his room. It did not even register in his head that he brought you to his bedroom until he walked about halfway into the room. Then he stopped dead in his tracks.

“Y/N. I just realized something.”

“What is it, John? You’re as pale as you were in front of the sharks.”

“I… I only have one bed in this house.”

[exotic-dreamuses]

Faster

Genre: fluff/smut

Pairing: Baekyeol

Rating: M

Warnings: Illegal activity, graphic smut, language, heavy alcohol consumption, badass Baekhyun, don’t blink or you’ll miss Kaisoo, innocent Chanyeol

Summary: “You live life through song lyrics and personal connections, he lives through cheap pickup lines and quick hookups in dusty old motel rooms.”

Word count: 13,698

All Chanyeol wanted to do was curl up and cram study. Jongin is a certified asshole.

Chanyeol had two exams that week plus a 12-page research paper due by Friday that he had barely started on. He knew for a fact that Jongin had a couple reports due as well, and a test in a class he was already failing on Thursday.

And yet here they were. 11pm on a Monday and instead of holing himself up in the library, Chanyeol had stupidly allowed Jongin to drag him out.

“For fuck’s sake, Chanyeol.” Jongin had grabbed him just outside their apartment as Chanyeol had been on his way back to campus to use the library’s endless book resources. “You have all week. Besides, didn’t you want to meet my boyfriend?”

Somehow Jongin had talked Chanyeol into a pair of his “edgy” ripped jeans and a green t-shirt. He threw his own leather jacket at the taller, and Chanyeol had pulled it on, complaining about his change in appearance. “Are we meeting your boyfriend at a club or something? What the fuck?” Jongin simply laughed at him, pulling out a bottle of hair gel. So what if he liked his oversized hoodies? Sue him.

And no, they definitely weren’t meeting Jongin’s boyfriend at a club. They were at a fucking street race.

“This shit is illegal, Jongin.” Chanyeol hissed as his no-longer-best-friend dragged him through the rows of cars. “We could be arrested. We could go to jail. I have a paper due in three days! My mom’s going to have a whole-ass heart attack. We can’t just—”

“Chanyeol, dude.” Jongin paused his movements and placed both his hands on Chanyeol’s shoulders. “Listen.” Chanyeol stopped looking around and focused on Jongin. “I’ve been coming here to meet Kyungsoo for months now, and we haven’t been busted by the cops yet.”

“Yet?”

Jongin rolled his eyes. “You’ll be fine. Now come on, I want to make out with Kyungsoo a bit before his race.”

“Gross.” Chanyeol scrunched his nose as Jongin threw an arm around his shoulders, leading him towards a small group gathered between two cars.

“Jongin!” A short guy, even by normal standards, shoved his way through the circle as Jongin and Chanyeol approached the group.

“Sorry we’re late—” Jongin was cut off as the guy threw himself at him, pulling him down into a kiss. Jongin responded immediately, holding who Chanyeol assumed to be his boyfriend closer, and Chanyeol cleared his throat and took an awkward sidestep.

He shifted from foot to foot as he looked the other direction, taking in the sights. Skimpily clad girls, guys wrapped in leather, and cars rigged up with toys worth more than the hunks of junk themselves.

Knowing Jongin’s original intention was to introduce him to the mysterious guy he’d been seeing, Chanyeol tried to stick around. He figured, though, after the boyfriend wrapped his legs around Jongin’s waist and Jongin backed him against one of the cars, that any and all original intentions were out the window.

Chanyeol decided to wander around the nearest car. It was some sort of sleek grey BMW something with dark red detailing. He looked down, eyeing the redone bumper and making his way around the back.

“They do that a lot.”

Chanyeol started and looked up to see a boy leaning suavely against the driver’s side of the car. The dark-haired boy couldn’t have been taller than Chanyeol’s shoulders, and he, like many others there, was wearing a pair of black ripped jeans, a leather jacket, and combat boots. His eyes were lined thickly, and his hair parted so some of it hung loosely over his forehead. Chanyeol couldn’t seem to look away from the long, slender fingers as they pulled a cigarette away from his pleasantly pink lips. He was mesmerized.

The lips released a puff of smoke, pouting beautifully and the boy flicked his hair out of his face, turning to look at Chanyeol. No—past him. Chanyeol turned to follow his line of sight and his eyes fell upon Jongin and his boyfriend, who was now sprawled on his back on the trunk of the car next to them.

The stranger chuckled.

“Kyungsoo hasn’t run a race without Jongin being here to, uh, wish him luck.” He let out another chuckle. “He was freaking out when he was running late, worried he wouldn’t get his pre-race ritual in. I honestly thought he was about to bust a nut.” Those fingers lifted the cigarette back up and the boy took another drawl of smoke. “I’d kill to see that. Or do it. I have to admit, I’m jealous.”

“Oh, are you?” Chanyeol leaned against the car, mimicking the mysterious boy’s position.

“Kyungsoo’s been getting plenty of dick, and according to him, it’s good. I could use a good lay.”

“Right,” Chanyeol answered carefully. “And, uh, you are—”

“Hot and ready for you, Mr. Empire State Building.” Chanyeol felt naked under the boy’s critical eyes, looking him up and down in an almost animalistic way.

“Come again?”

“Byun.” The kid tapped his cigarette on his fingers, watching as the burnt ash fell to the ground with a smirk. “Baekhyun.”

“I’m Chanyeol.”

“Ah, finally a devilishly handsome face to put with the mysterious name.”

Chanyeol furrowed his brows. “Am I supposed to mean something?”

Baekhyun leaned back against the car again. “Oh, the whole group’s heard all about Jongin’s tall, blubbering friend who’s never been seen outside the library, his room, or the music building.”

Chanyeol scoffed. “Nice to know my reputation precedes me.”

“So, Empire, what are you doing here,” he gestured to the rows of cars with his cigarette, “instead of shitting around on a piano?”

Chanyeol sighed. “Fucking Jongin.”

“That’s Kyungsoo’s job.”

Chanyeol shut his eyes. “Oh, god, I really did not want that image.”

“You could have the image of fucking me instead, if you want it.”

“Look kid. I appreciate the incentive and all, but I really don’t want to be here.” Chanyeol sighed, avoiding Baekhyun’s eyes. “I have two tests this week, and—”

“And I can be a great distraction.” Baekhyun didn’t stop staring, and Chanyeol could feel those eyes centered on his crotch.

He could also feel his dick twitching. No, stop it. Grandmas and dead puppies.

“Byun!” Both boys turned around. Kyungsoo was sitting up now, Jongin still between his legs. “We need to go.”

“Now?”

“Now.” He pushed Jongin away from where he had still been nipping at his boyfriend’s collarbones, and Kyungsoo adjusted his jacket so it was sitting properly on his shoulders.

Baekhyun sighed. “I’d love to continue this, Empire, but it seems I have a prior engagement.” He dropped the rest of his cigarette, stomping it out. “Would you be a darling and grab my keys for me? They’re in my front pocket.”

“No.” Chanyeol deadpanned.

Baekhyun chuckled, shoving his right hand into his pocket. “It was worth a try.”

“Was it?”

“You can’t blame me.” Baekhyun pulled open the door of his car. Across the lot, Kyungsoo mimicked his movement, Jongin walking up to the window and giving him one more good luck kiss.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun spoke again once his car had started, rolling down the window. “You’re hot. You turn me on, and if I wasn’t supposed to be on the track in two minutes we’d be back at my apartment right now. However, it seems my life is full of wasted potential and unfortunately timed hookups.”

“There’s still the rest of the night,” Chanyeol responded sarcastically, crossing his arms.

Baekhyun smirked, turning his eyes to the road as he shifted his car into the first gear. “I’m going to hold you to that, Empire.”

Both cars pulled out of the lot, joining the lineup and making their way towards the starting line, and Jongin wandered over to where Chanyeol was standing.

“I thought I was supposed to meet the boyfriend tonight,” Chanyeol commented, accepting the beer in Jongin’s outstretched hand. “All I saw was ass and lips.”

“Those are the important parts.” Jongin shrugged, taking a sip of his beer.

Chanyeol eyed him warily. “It’s a Monday, Jongin.”

“And?”

“We have class tomorrow. Don’t you have an 8am?”

“I’ll skip it. I usually do after races.” Jongin shrugged again, his eyes resting on the road where the cars had just disappeared.

“Staying the night with Kyungsoo?” Chanyeol took a large gulp of his beer.

“Someone’s jealous.” Jongin sang. Chanyeol could hear his smirk.

Chanyeol scoffed. “You wish.”

“No, I know. Not that you have to be, though, you have Byun now. He’s a hard one to pin down, it’s kind of a big deal that he was just full-on flirting with you.” Jongin took a drink of his beer. “Baekhyun isn’t one to try too hard, and the fact that he is when you act like you’re completely uninterested, even though I know otherwise, means that he’s probably really interested in you.”

“Or he just wants to fuck.” Chanyeol groaned, running a hand through his hair.

“So do you.”

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Jongin wasn’t wrong. Chanyeol had a lot going on in his life. All his exams and papers for some stupid business degree he wasn’t even sure he wanted, spending the night hours from 11-3 in a practice room as he was determined to not lose his guitar skills among pointless math classes. He often got math formulas replaced with song lyrics and chord structures in his head, and he’d gotten comments on his papers about the lack of effort put into them as he always procrastinated to write songs instead. There was a lot of pent-up tension, a lot of anger and stress that was constantly wearing down on him. Maybe, maybe all he needed was a good fuck. Just to get it out of his system.

Jongin sighed at Chanyeol’s prolonged silence. “Look, Chanyeol, I get it. You’re a ‘romantic.’ You want to build a relationship, have a connection. But Baekhyun, well, he’s a quickie. He’s not around for the long haul, never has been. You live life through song lyrics and personal connections, he lives through cheap pickup lines and quick hookups in dusty old motel rooms.”

“What do you want me to do?” Chanyeol asked, exasperated.

“I want you to live a little.” Jongin faced away from the road for the first time since the race had started to face his friend. “Go home with him. He’s your type—short, dark hair, mysterious, and I know he bottoms—” Chanyeol rolled his eyes at the last one, “be a fucking college kid for once, okay? Go be spontaneous. Besides, you never know. I thought Kyungsoo was going to be a one-night thing, and it’s been three months.”

“Are you done?” Chanyeol took another drink of his beer.

“Just think about it, yeah? I’m worried about you, man.”

Before Chanyeol got a chance to answer, to brush Jongin off and tell him he had no reason to worry, a familiar grey and red BMW flew across the finish line.

“Your boyfriend won.” Jongin nodded his head towards where Baekhyun was pulling his car around, back into the same lot he had been in before. “Give him a congratulatory kiss for me, will you?”

Jongin had danced out of the way, back towards his own boyfriend’s car which had also returned to its lot, before Chanyeol could reach out to hit him. Chanyeol tossed the rest of his half-drank beer in a trash can as he made his way over to the winning car.

“Hey there, Empire.” Baekhyun slid out of the car, running a hand through his sweaty hair. Chanyeol couldn’t help but imagine his hands running through the hair, Baekhyun under him, sweaty and writhing, back arching—

“Empire? You still with us?”

Chanyeol shook his head, coming back from his daydream. “Hm? What?”

Baekhyun chuckled. “I know I look hot right now, but I do need a breather before you jump me.”

Chanyeol scoffed. “You wish.” He did look pretty hot, though.

“You would,” Baekhyun smirked, raising an eyebrow in a way that probably made all the boys swoon.

It definitely wasn’t working on Chanyeol. Not at all.

“I wouldn’t.” Chanyeol took a step forward, and Baekhyun mimicked his movements.

“Then why did you take a step towards me?” Baekhyun tilted his chin up to glare at Chanyeol, his eyes calculating, trying to figure out what Chanyeol was thinking. That was going to be hard, though, considering Chanyeol didn’t even know what Chanyeol was thinking.

“I don’t know.”

“Why won’t you kiss me?”

“I don’t know.” With each question, the pair took a step towards each other. “And I hate not knowing things.” Chanyeol pushed on.

Baekhyun knew exactly what he was doing to Chanyeol. “What are you going to do about it, Empire?” They were chest-to-chest at this point.

“Are you sure you want to find out?” Chanyeol whispered, leaning down ever so slightly.

Baekhyun smirked. “Why are you still asking?”

“I’m not.” With that, Chanyeol grabs Baekhyun’s hips and pulls him towards him, planting his lips on the shorter’s.

Baekhyun met him immediately, gripping the lapels of his jacket in his hands and thrusting up on his toes. It was messy, there was too much teeth during the fight for dominance, but it was perfect. Hot and heavy, Chanyeol turned and threw Baekhyun against the side of his car.

Baekhyun gasped on the impact, and Chanyeol took the opportunity to dart his tongue in the other’s mouth, Baekhyun submitting to him almost immediately. Chanyeol could feel his adrenaline going up as he poured all his frustration and stress into the kiss which Baekhyun was welcoming with open arms. Well, open mouth.

Chanyeol put all his weight on the smaller, pulling Baekhyun closer while at the same time pushing him back against the car. His hands stayed on the other’s hips, gripping harshly as he inserted his thigh between Baekhyun’s legs, not allowing him to move at all though his impulse was to jerk away.

Baekhyun moaned instead, letting go of Chanyeol’s jacket to instead tangle his fingers in his hair, messing up the carefully styled strands courtesy of Jongin. Leaving one hand curled around Baekhyun’s waist, Chanyeol brought his left hand up to cup his cheek and tilt his head back, giving him better access to the other’s swollen lips.

“Chan-Chanyeol.” Baekhyun stuttered, pulling away from one of the most mind-blowing, tension-filled kisses he’d ever experienced. Not finished yet, Chanyeol began trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along Baekhyun’s throat. He didn’t suck enough to leave a mark, but he applied enough pressure that the boy was at his mercy, gasping and tightening his hold on Chanyeol’s hair.

“What, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol muttered between kisses.

“Don’t—wait, we can’t.” He protested weakly, though he was doing nothing to stop Chanyeol’s ministrations. “I have another heat.” Baekhyun let his head drop so it was resting against the car, moaning again as Chanyeol began sucking harshly on an exposed part of his shoulder where his jacket had fallen away at some point.

“So?” Chanyeol pulled away, straightening back up to look at Baekhyun, giving him a second to catch his breath.

“It starts soon, I can’t run off like this, as much as I want to.”

“Don’t leave.” Chanyeol wasn’t begging—he didn’t beg. He was just asking, politely, and hoping deeply that Baekhyun would listen to him as it was obvious that he was just as turned on as the latter.

“I have to.” Baekhyun rested both his hands on Chanyeol’s neck and pulled him back down for another kiss.

“Take me with you.” Chanyeol managed at their first break apart for a breath.

Baekhyun paused. “What?”

“You heard me.” Chanyeol pushed Baekhyun so he was completely flat against the car, his spine curved and followed the shape of the door. “I want to go with you.”

“No, you don’t. It’s dangerous.” Baekhyun shook his head, locking eyes with Chanyeol. “I’m dangerous. Especially for a good college boy like you.” Baekhyun ran his hand through Chanyeol’s hair again, pausing in the back and stroking, and Chanyeol thought he would melt into a puddle right there.

“I don’t care.” He heard himself say. “I want to go with you. I want to be with you.” Chanyeol pulled Baekhyun in for another desperate kiss. “Baekhyun, please.” Okay, maybe he was begging. “Please.”

Baekhyun took his swollen lip between his teeth and chewed it for a minute, neither of them moving from their positions. Chanyeol was still on top of him, leaning heavily, and if anyone asked Baekhyun would say that was clouding his judgement, since he would never admit to actually liking someone enough to be a passenger in his car during a race.

“Okay.” He relented after a minute. Chanyeol leaned back down to kiss him in happiness, taking his head in both his gigantic hands and pulling him close.

Chanyeol sucked on Baekhyun’s bottom lip for a couple more minutes until they heard an announcement that the final heat would be starting, and all the drivers needed to report to their cars.

Baekhyun straightened up, shoving Chanyeol back and running a hand through his hair, trying to tame it.

“Get your gorgeous ass in the car, Empire.” Chanyeol made his way around to the passenger side of the car as Baekhyun slipped into his seat.

“Chanyeol?” He paused with his hand on the door handle and turned around to be met with the confused faces of Jongin and Kyungsoo, arms around each other as they approached Baekhyun’s car. “Where are you going?”

“I’m taking a ride.”

“I told you to go home with the guy, not kill yourself for him.” Jongin shook his head. “That’s not a good idea.”

Kyungsoo ran his free hand up Jongin’s chest. “Baekhyun’s one of the best drivers out there, babe, he’ll be fine.”

“I don’t like it.” Jongin looked down at his boyfriend.

“Hey, Empire, if you’re coming then get a fucking move on.” Baekhyun rolled down the window and yelled from his side. “We need to go.”

“Chanyeol—”

“Now, Empire.” Baekhyun interrupted whatever Jongin’s next argument was going to be.

Chanyeol shrugged in his friend’s direction, pulling open the door and folding himself in the passenger seat.

“Buckle up, Chanyeol. This isn’t some petty little drive around the parking lot.” Baekhyun shifted the car into first and pulling out of the lot. “We’re going to be driving on highways and major roads, and none of them are closed.”

“You mean there are going to be civilians out there?” Chanyeol looked at Baekhyun in shock.

He nodded, turning the wheel to join the lineup. “That happens sometimes.”

“Isn’t that, I don’t know, dangerous?” Chanyeol asked as Baekhyun stopped the car in his line.

“Sure.” Baekhyun looked back at Chanyeol with a smirk. “But isn’t that the point?”

Chanyeol froze. He had Chanyeol there.

Before Chanyeol could come up with a good enough answer, the flag was down and Baekhyun, and the others, were tearing down the single stretch of highway.

“Oh, fuck.” Chanyeol smiled. “Fuck!”

Baekhyun smirked, shifting effortlessly as he drove his way to the front of the group. He pulled out in front, tearing away from the other racers as he flew around the first turn, taking them towards the congested part of town.

The adrenaline rush was back, relentless as Chanyeol watched the speedometer on the dashboard rise, breaking 120 and pushing 130 miles per hour.

Baekhyun risked a look away from the road to his first-time passenger. Chanyeol was leaning forward, looking excitedly out the windshield with wide eyes. He didn’t look scared in the slightest, it was more like a kid who’d stolen a cookie and gotten away with it, and was making their getaway in a BMW going 135 miles per hour down a major highway, surrounded by cars not going above 80. Of course, Chanyeol was just a giant kid, so it all made sense.

Chanyeol, on the other hand, had never felt freer. He was flying as the car raced down the highway, barely slowing down for turns and almost unable to hear the angry honks of the other drivers. Chanyeol, the boy who burst into tears when he was six for stealing a grape from the supermarket was now willingly taking part in an illegal street race. He was loving it, and he already knew he was addicted.

His mother was going to have an aneurysm.

“Is it always like this?” Chanyeol asked, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the engine.

“Like what?” Baekhyun asked, popping the clutch and yanking the wheel to the right, taking an exit and flying down the ramp.

“Like, I don’t know, this.” Chanyeol looked over at him. “This, exciting. Freeing. Fast.”

Baekhyun nodded. “Isn’t it great?”

“You must do this often, considering that we haven’t crashed into anything yet,” Chanyeol commented, watching the civilian cars fall behind through his window.

“Every Monday, Friday, and Saturday.” Baekhyun jerked the wheel, whipping the car around another loop to get on another highway, one that should take them back towards the starting line.

“Shit.” Chanyeol laughed. “And you’re not dead yet?”

“I may drive fast, but I don’t drive to die,” Baekhyun commented, eyeing a car through his mirror. “Oh, fuck.”

“What—”

“It’s Minho. White Jaguar, middle lane. He hates me, I hate him, he may try and run us off the road. Hold on. Side note, can you get my phone for me?”

Chanyeol scrambled, ripping through the glove box for Baekhyun’s ringing phone as Baekhyun swerved lanes, darting through cars to try and gain an edge over his competitor.

“Baekhyun’s phone, Chanyeol speaking,” Chanyeol answered, yelling to be heard over Baekhyun’s cursing at the other driver.

“Listen, Chanyeol, tell Baek we got busted.” Chanyeol recognized Kyungsoo’s voice over the speaker even though he’d only heard the male talk twice that night. “Don’t come back, it’s insane. Everyone’s taking off, and you guys need to get lost. Now.”

“The cops—” Baekhyun’s attention was on Chanyeol in an instant. “They busted the lot. We need to go.”

“Oh, fuck no. How am I supposed to get my prize money now?” Baekhyun groaned, swerving off the highway and slowing down, losing their car among the many driving through the more commercial part of town and switching from manual to automatic.

“Tell Baekhyun that that’s the least of his problems now,” Kyungsoo answered for him. “Just don’t get arrested and we’ll go from there.”

“Kyungsoo, you underestimate me.” Baekhyun yelled, turning the car onto a dark street. “I never get arrested.”

“Well, call me when you guys get home so I know you didn’t.” Kyungsoo cut the line, and Chanyeol could barely make out Jongin’s voice on the other side before the connection was lost.

“So, we could get arrested, then?” Chanyeol tried to sound nonchalant about it, but Baekhyun could sense that the poor guy was losing his mind.

“No.” For the first time that night, Baekhyun took his hand off the wheel not to shift, but to grab Chanyeol’s, rubbing the back with his thumb in a comforting manner. “I don’t get caught. We’re kind of close to my apartment, anyway. You can come in and stay until this blows over, then I can take you back to campus or Kyungsoo’s or wherever your friend wants to meet you.”

Chanyeol took a deep breath and squeezed their intertwined hands. “Okay.”

“Hey, Empire, trust me.” Baekhyun pulled out of the alley and cut across an empty gas station parking lot into an apartment complex. “We’re fine.”

He let go of Chanyeol’s hand to park the car in a corner spot, hidden by shadows under a few trees. Shakily, Chanyeol got out of the car. Baekhyun watched him worriedly, pulling his keys from the ignition and climbing out of his side. The taller was leaning against the passenger door, eyebrows furrowed beautifully and biting his bottom lip harshly with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

Baekhyun walked around and leaned next to him. “Do you mind if I take a smoke?”

Chanyeol shook his head, and Baekhyun fished his box out of the left pocket of his jacket and a lighter out of his right. He held a cigarette between his lips as he clicked his lighter, successfully lighting it on the first try and holding it to the stick, cupping the flame until it caught.

Baekhyun leaned his head back against the car, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, watching the smoke get caught up in the wind. He glanced at Chanyeol for a second, taking in the way his shoulders were tensed and he was staring daggers at a crack in the pavement.

“I wouldn’t have asked you to ride with me if I knew the cops were going to show up.” Baekhyun commented after a few minutes of silence.

“It’s fine.” Chanyeol took a deep breath. “Kyungsoo’s right, you’re a pretty safe driver, even at 150 miles per hour.”

Baekhyun let out a light chuckle. “Nah, I don’t usually push 150. Maybe 140, but even I have my limits.” He looked at Chanyeol fully, tapping his cigarette against his fingers. “But I know you’re kind of freaked, and for good reason.”

“Really, I’m good. It was probably better that I was with you anyway, then I didn’t have to worry about snagging a ride with anyone or finding Jongin when the cops showed up at the lot.” Chanyeol shifted so his right shoulder was leaning against the car and he was facing the racer, his arms still crossed. “I really should be thanking you.”

“Don’t bother.” Baekhyun took another drawl. “I’m not the kind of person anyone should be thanking. For anything.”

“You didn’t get me arrested.”

“I didn’t get arrested. You just happened to be along for the ride.”

“After I begged you to let me join.”

“Either way.” Baekhyun shrugged. “Don’t thank me. What happened, happened. It’s over. Let’s move on, yeah?”

“Yeah.” The men stood together against Baekhyun’s car in silence as Baekhyun nursed his cigarette.

“You’ve got a nice vibe going on here.”

“Vibe?” Baekhyun raised his eyebrows.

“Sure.” Chanyeol gestured to Baekhyun with his left hand. “The leather, the car, the cigarettes, the ratty old apartment.”

“How dare you judge my apartment. You haven’t even been inside yet. Empire, I expected better from you.” Baekhyun countered, glaring.

Chanyeol shrugged. “I don’t need to go inside. I can tell.”

“Oh, can you now.” Baekhyun scoffed, releasing another puff of smoke.

Chanyeol hummed, taking a step towards Baekhyun. “I can. And Jongin may have said a few things about you.”

“I am quite the conversation topic, if I do say so myself,” Baekhyun smirked.

“You’re also quite hot.”

“Oh?” Baekhyun had to admit, he hadn’t seen that one coming.

Chanyeol wrapped his right arm around Baekhyun’s shoulders. “You are.” He bent his head down and began kissing behind Baekhyun’s ear, causing the latter to shiver. “When you’re driving, and your hand is resting on the stick shift even though I wanted it to be sitting on my thigh.”

He pulled himself around, planting both his hands on either side of Baekhyun’s head. “When you’re cursing, even though I wanted to be the reason for those dirty words coming out of your beautiful mouth.” He finished at a whisper, planting his lips along Baekhyun’s jaw.

Baekhyun leaned his head back, closing his eyes and dropping his cigarette as he let out a breath. Chanyeol made sure to stomp it out as his hands found Baekhyun’s jaw, grabbing it to angle his head up in a perfect position for a kiss. Baekhyun’s empty hands gripped the bottom of Chanyeol’s jacket desperately, itching to get rid of the three inches of space between them.

“When you’re darting through traffic, your eyes completely focused on the road when all I really wanted was for them to look at me.” He leaned his forehead against the smaller’s, looking him in the eyes. Baekhyun’s eyes were wide, glazed over with lust, and he leaned up towards Chanyeol without even realizing it.

“When you run your hand through your hair, mussing it up in that perfect style that I know would look so much better if you were in bed, and it was my hand doing it.” Chanyeol leaned down so his lips were just touching Baekhyun’s, just barely.

Baekhyun whined. “Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol hummed, and Baekhyun could feel that shit in his toes. And his dick.

Fuck.

“Kiss me.”

Chanyeol was on him in a second, attacking him in a fervor that had Baekhyun more breathless than he’d been all night. Baekhyun’s back slammed into the car again as Chanyeol’s lips forced his open, taking control once again.

Baekhyun tasted like smoke and sweat, and had it been anyone else Chanyeol would’ve pulled away instantly, crinkling his nose in disgust. It suited Baekhyun, though, and it somehow only made Chanyeol want to devour the smaller even more.

One of Chanyeol’s hands dropped to wrap around Baekhyun’s lower back, pulling him close and brushing their crotches together. Baekhyun’s lips stuttered, and he gripped Chanyeol’s jacket, pulling him so close the taller could feel his heart pounding.

Chanyeol kept attacking his lips, and Baekhyun ran his hands along his structured abdomen, going underneath the jacket. He followed the harsh muscles all the way around, dragging his fingertips down Chanyeol’s spine and eliciting a deep groan from the other. Baekhyun’s hands finally came to rest in the taller’s back jean pockets, and he gave the taunt flesh a gentle squeeze.

“Shit, Baekhyun.” Chanyeol groaned. His hands found the collar of Baekhyun’s jacket and he impatiently pushed it off his shoulders, so it hung on the crook of his elbows. He began trailing his lips down Baekhyun’s neck, nipping and sucking at the tender zone. He knew he’d found a special spot, right under his ear and behind his jaw, because when he’d bitten down Baekhyun had jumped slightly and squeezed Chanyeol’s ass tighter.

“Do you want to come inside?” Baekhyun asked, breathless.

“Fuck, babe, I thought you’d never ask.” After pressing one more dominating kiss to the other’s mouth, Chanyeol took Baekhyun’s hand and began dragging him in the direction of the large complex.

Baekhyun stumbled a bit trying to keep up with Chanyeol’s long strides, eventually catching up and digging around for his keys.

“Upstairs.” Baekhyun was leading as he tugged Chanyeol’s hand towards a staircase on the side. “Third floor.”

“You couldn’t make this easy and be on the ground, could you?” Chanyeol asked with a breathless chuckle.

“If you wanted me to drop right here I would,” Baekhyun started up the stairs with Chanyeol right behind him, “but I do recall you saying that you didn’t want to get arrested tonight.” He turned around and winked. Cheeky little shit.

Once on the third floor, Baekhyun paused in front of the second door on the left, fumbling to find the lock. The lighting sucked, and his hands were shaking, and then suddenly Chanyeol was behind him and he found the spot on his jaw, and somehow his hands were on Baekhyun’s erection and shit that felt great. Chanyeol knew what he was doing—fuck.

After struggling for an impossibly long time, Baekhyun shoved the door open and stumbled in, Chanyeol still hanging on his back like a koala.

Chanyeol kicked the door shut, and Baekhyun whirled around, breaking the taller’s hold on him and shoving him back into the door. He wrapped his arms around Chanyeol’s neck, grumbling something about guys who were annoyingly tall as he pulled him down for another kiss.

The “annoyingly tall” boy grabbed Baekhyun’s jacket, yanking it down his shoulders.

“Well, maybe you’re just annoyingly short.” Chanyeol countered, dropping Baekhyun’s jacket on the ground.

“Fuck off.”

“Oh, you definitely don’t want me to do that.” Chanyeol paused for just a second, two maybe, and appreciated how great Baekhyun’s body was without the loose-fitting jacket. His red and grey t-shirt clung to his shoulders and outlined the “v” his body made as it came in at the hips. Baekhyun’s ripped skinny jeans clung to his hips and thighs beautifully, showing curves in all the right places without being too thick or too skinny.

“You’re gorgeous.” Chanyeol couldn’t help but say it as his hands found Baekhyun’s hips, pushing his shirt up so his rough fingertips could feel the delicate skin tugged around his small hipbones.

Chanyeol hadn’t seen Baekhyun blush all night but right then he did, averting his eyes and sucking his bottom lip and biting at it.

“Baekhyun—”

“Jacket.” Baekhyun’s hands grabbed the collar of Chanyeol’s own jacket and began tugging frustratedly. “Off. Now.”

Chanyeol complied instantly, releasing Baekhyun’s hips only long enough to pull his jacket off and drop next to Baekhyun’s on the floor. Baekhyun’s slender fingers grabbed the hem of Chanyeol’s shirt and he pulled that off too, adding that to the growing pile of clothes on Baekhyun’s floor.

“Fuck, you’re hot.” Baekhyun was practically drooling as he stared at Chanyeol’s chiseled abs and chest. “Maybe I should go to college.”

“Not really your scene, babe,” Chanyeol smirked, pulling Baekhyun in for another kiss. Baekhyun’s hands wrapped around his waist, kneading and pressing into the skin along Chanyeol’s lower back just above the waistband of his jeans. Chanyeol’s own hands ran up Baekhyun’s chest, pushing his shirt up in the process.

Baekhyun took the hint, pulling away and allowing Chanyeol to pull his shirt over his head. Before Chanyeol could return to kissing Baekhyun senseless, Baekhyun grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the bed around the half-wall.

Chanyeol overpowered him quickly, turning him around and kissing him, backing him up towards the bed. Baekhyun allowed himself to be guided backward, falling gracefully when his legs hit the edge. Chanyeol collapsed on top of him, crawling above him as Baekhyun slid further up the bed so he was laying in the center.

Once they were face to face, Chanyeol shoved his knee right under Baekhyun’s dick and the smaller groaned, arching his back at the contact.

Chanyeol smirked, rubbing his knee and watching as Baekhyun jutted his hips along with it, trying to find friction in the erratic rhythm.

“Fuck, Chanyeol.” Baekhyun moaned breathlessly. “Fuck, do something.”

At that, Chanyeol popped the button and unzipped Baekhyun’s jeans, climbing off and pulling them down his legs leaving the smaller clothed in only his underwear. He reclaimed his place above him once he’d pulled his own pants off too, sucking on his neck once again.

Somehow Baekhyun found the strength to flip the two, so Baekhyun was now hovering over Chanyeol who raised an eyebrow at him.

Baekhyun leaned down to capture Chanyeol’s lips in a kiss before pulling away and dragging his tongue down the length of Chanyeol’s neck. Chanyeol took a deep breath and dropped his head back against the mattress.

Baekhyun bit along his prominent collarbones, pressing a light kiss to the dip where the two sides fused together in the middle. Glancing up for a second, Baekhyun continued to make his way down Chanyeol’s chest, pressing a kiss to and sucking on each of the taller’s nipples.

“Baekhyun.” Chanyeol groaned out, arching into the small male’s mouth. “Shit.”

Continuing further, Baekhyun dragged his tongue down, down, licking his way along the divot between Chanyeol’s abs all the way down to his underwear. Kissing lightly, Baekhyun hooked his fingers in the waistband and tugged down, pulling them down Chanyeol’s impossibly long legs and dropping them off the side of the bed.

Chanyeol sighed when his erection was finally freed from his constricting underwear, looking down to see Baekhyun eye-level with his dick.

“Baek—” Baekhyun looked up to see Chanyeol groaning and fisting the bed under him at his experimental lick.

“I’m going to warn you.” Baekhyun spoke between light kisses he was peppering all along Chanyeol’s dick, “I lost my gag-reflex years ago.”

“You—shit.” Chanyeol let out a long, drawn-out groan as Baekhyun sank down, taking Chanyeol in his mouth completely. He breathed slowly through his nose, his lips wrapped tightly around the base.

Hollowing his cheeks and sucking lightly, Baekhyun slowly pushed himself back up, his weight resting on his elbows.

“Fuck, Baekhyun.” Chanyeol gasped as Baekhyun lowered himself down again. He tangled his fingers in the smaller’s hair, pushing him down, trying to get him to go deeper. Baekhyun flattened his tongue as he bobbed his head, Chanyeol’s dick breaching the tightness of his uvula and pushing down his throat. He moved his hands so they were flat on Chanyeol’s hipbones, pushing them down in the mattress as Chanyeol struggled to buck them up.

Chanyeol tightened his grip on Baekhyun’s hair causing the latter to shudder and moan, still taking Chanyeol throat deep, and Chanyeol’s eyes rolled back in his head at the vibration. Lifting a skilled hand, Baekhyun began lightly fingering his balls as he picked himself back up, licking completely from the base to the tip.

Chanyeol groaned brokenly as his hips rose, trying to chase the tight heat as Baekhyun sat up to take a breather. His hand replaced his mouth, rubbing along the length and spreading his spit evenly.

His hand still tangled in Baekhyun’s hair, Chanyeol pulled the male up to return to his lips, forcing Baekhyun to straddle his hips. Chanyeol pulled him down, sucking on Baekhyun’s tongue immediately and tasting the salty precum on the inside of his mouth in addition to the lingering smoke.

Chanyeol’s hands dropped to cup Baekhyun’s ass, and Baekhyun moaned loudly, desperately at the contact. He ground his hips down, Chanyeol guiding him, the only clothing left between them was Baekhyun’s soaking underwear.

Chanyeol tugged the annoying fabric down halfway, burying his hands underneath and feeling Baekhyun’s skin under his palms, pushing him as far down as he could in their desperate grinding.

Baekhyun moaned again. “I can’t—off. I—fuck—I need them off, Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol rolled them over so they were back in their original position, Chanyeol resting between Baekhyun’s thighs, and he sat up on his knees. He pulled the underwear the rest of the way off quickly, turning to toss them off the side of the bed.

When he shifted back over, Baekhyun was gone. He had made his way to one side of the bed, giving Chanyeol a great view of his ass as the male pulled out a bottle of lube from his nightstand. He rolled back over, and Chanyeol trapped him beneath his long arms, taking the lube from his hand.

“I can do it.” Baekhyun whispered.

Chanyeol shook his head, pressing a short but desperate kiss to the pink lips. “I got it.”

He popped the cap off and squirted a generous amount of the lube on his fingers, spreading it evenly before he positioned himself at Baekhyun’s entrance.

Gingerly, he slid one finger in and Baekhyun gasped out brokenly above him. “Finally—Jesus fucking—ah.”

Chanyeol had added another finger and was scissoring the other open, spreading his hole in preparation. He began biting and kissing all along those gorgeous hipbones as he did, and it felt like he just couldn’t get enough of Baekhyun. He had to taste him, to hold him, to feel him and prove that he was the cause for Baekhyun’s immense pleasure at the moment.

Chanyeol added a third finger and Baekhyun cried out, his hands fisting in Chanyeol’s hair as he bucked his hips up, trying to find Chanyeol’s rhythm. With one last bite, Chanyeol removed his fingers and sat up.

Lying next to the bottle of lube was a condom. Chanyeol ripped open the package and rolled it on, picking the lube back up and applying it to his dick.

“Shit, Empire, hurry the fuck up.” Baekhyun groaned out impatiently, raising himself up on his elbows to watch Chanyeol spread the cold substance evenly to his throbbing cock.

“I’m getting there.” Chanyeol collapsed back on Baekhyun when he was done. He sat on his knees between the shorter’s legs, picking them up to place them on his shoulders.

Baekhyun’s breath hitched.  Finally.

Not too slowly yet not too quickly, Chanyeol pushed into Baekhyun. The male arched his back, letting out the dirtiest moan Chanyeol had ever heard as he filled him up completely. Not giving the other much time to adjust, Chanyeol pulled out and thrust back in. Baekhyun gasped at the force, his hands reaching out to fist the covers below him.

Chanyeol kept thrusting, each one getting harder and more powerful. Baekhyun was a writhing, beautiful moaning mess below him, and he had never seen anything sexier.

Searching for that special spot, Chanyeol took Baekhyun’s legs and pulled them off his shoulders and instead pushed them into Baekhyun’s, bending the male in half.

“Fuck!” Baekhyun cried as Chanyeol began thrusting at this new angle. “Fuck, Chanyeol, more.” He wrapped his arms around his knees to hold himself in that position, but Chanyeol kept his hands there too, using the leverage to push and pull himself as he thrusted.

“Oh, shit, shit.” Baekhyun was moaning with each thrust now, babbling and unable to keep his mouth shut. Chanyeol picked up the pace, jackhammering into Baekhyun at a nearly inhuman speed and causing the latter to nearly scream.

“God, Chanyeol, fuck yes, keep going.” He moaned. Baekhyun’s arms released his legs and he began flailing them around, trying to find purchase on something, anything.

Chanyeol grabbed his wrists and pinned them above the smaller’s head, holding them with his right hand and he rested all his weight on his left. Baekhyun wrapped his legs around the other’s waist, pulling him closer with each thrust, and this new angle caused Chanyeol to ram into Baekhyun’s prostate. Chanyeol groaned out lowly at the sheer tightness of Baekhyun, it felt almost impossible to not come just looking at the male’s face.

The male’s mouth fell open in a silent scream when he did, and Chanyeol began thrusting with new vigor, breathing heavily and oh so sexily, nailing the smaller’s prostate every time. Baekhyun’s back arched, and he closed his eyes as tears began to leak out.

It was amazing. It wasn’t enough yet at the same time it was too much, and Baekhyun’s hands were stuck above his head and he felt so fucking vulnerable at the lack of control and shit that was turning him on even more, if possible.

“Hold on.” Chanyeol pulled out and Baekhyun groaned out at the loss.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me, Chanyeol, get back here and—what are—ah!” Chanyeol had grabbed a pillow and shoved it under Baekhyun’s ass before pushing back in, giving his hips another new angle to work with. He grabbed Baekhyun’s hands, pinning them above his head again as he resumed his inhuman pace from before.

This new position gave Baekhyun the extra stimulation he’d needed, and each thrust was so powerful he thought he was going to split in two at any given moment.

“Oh, Chanyeol, you’re going to break me, I—holy shit—oh my god—Chan—” Baekhyun’s eyes were rolling back in his head. His own dick was hitting his stomach with each thrust, Chanyeol’s hard abdomen pushing it into Baekhyun’s stomach and applying just enough pressure, and it was aching for a release.

Baekhyun felt that familiar warmth in his stomach, and his legs began trembling.

“Chanyeol—I’m—I need to come—fuck.”

“Come on, Baekhyun. Come for me.” Chanyeol ordered lowly and, fuck, Baekhyun came.

His back arched and his toes curled and he screamed as he experienced one of the most intense orgasms of his life. His cum shot out, covering both their stomachs and chests in the thick, hot liquid.

Chanyeol simply tightened his hold on Baekhyun’s wrists and continued thrusting, riding him through the aftershocks. He kept going, desperate for his own release and Baekhyun moaned brokenly.

Chanyeol came a few thrusts later with a sharp cry of Baekhyun’s name and a string of curses, the intensity of which milked a second, mini-orgasm from Baekhyun who was trembling from the overstimulation.

Thoroughly wrecked, it was all Baekhyun had to just lay on the bed as Chanyeol collapsed on top of him, his head on Baekhyun’s chest. He released Baekhyun’s wrists then, and Baekhyun could feel a tingling and knew they’d be bruising beautifully by morning.

The two laid there in the aftershocks long enough for the cum on their bodies to grow uncomfortably cold and sticky, but Baekhyun was too exhausted to move. Chanyeol, on the other hand, pushed himself up so he was on his elbows. He bent his head to press a few light kisses to Baekhyun’s chest, working his way up his neck to press a kiss to his lips.

Right as Baekhyun opened his mouth to deepen it, Chanyeol pushed up and stumbled off the bed in the direction of the bathroom. Propping himself up on his elbows, Baekhyun watched as Chanyeol searched the cabinets.

“Bottom left.” Baekhyun helped from his spot on the bed. He winced at how hoarse his voice was when he spoke.

“Got it.” Chanyeol pulled a couple washcloths out of the cabinet after Baekhyun’s directions, wetting them and walking back towards the bed. Baekhyun took one out of Chanyeol’s outstretched hand and they both began cleaning themselves off. The cold wetness of the washcloth was a stark contrast to the hot sweat that had been running down their bodies and so it left a trail of goosebumps where Baekhyun cleaned.

Chanyeol picked his boxers up, pulling them on and searching for his jeans.

“Empire, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Baekhyun asked from the bed.

“Getting dressed?” Chanyeol asked, picking up his jeans and folding them so they became right-side out again.

“Okay, yeah, but I promised you a ride. You’ll get one, I just need a few more minutes to wake back up then I’ll drive you back to your place.” Baekhyun pushed himself up and slid back in the bed, climbing under the covers.

“I don’t know, Baekhyun.” Chanyeol looked forlornly at the limp jeans in his hands.

“Come on, Empire.” Baekhyun patted the empty spot next to him, his eyes half open. “Join me as we come back down to earth.”

Against his better judgement, Chanyeol dropped his pants and came around, climbing in bed next to Baekhyun. Almost impulsively, Chanyeol wrapped his arm around Baekhyun’s shoulder, and the smaller tucked himself into his side, his head on Chanyeol’s shoulder and his arm draped over his chest.

Chanyeol smelled nice, Baekhyun concluded with a light sniff. He smelled sweaty, but there was a hint of cologne, and of something in his natural scent that made Baekhyun feel safe. All he wanted to do was curl up in Chanyeol’s arms forever and live out the rest of his life from within the safe aura of the college student. Chanyeol’s arm around his shoulder felt so protective, like it was shielding Baekhyun from every shitty thing that was a part of his existence. Baekhyun couldn’t help but marvel at how perfectly he fit in Chanyeol’s side.

Once he was in bed, and comfortable, the exhaustion really hit him. Chanyeol supposed the adrenaline of the night had finally worn off, and with Baekhyun’s body heat enveloping his side he felt his eyelids start to droop, against his mind’s orders to wake up, dammit.

“Why did you start racing?” Chanyeol heard himself ask.

Baekhyun hummed. “That’s quite a story, Empire.”

“With you, everything is,” Chanyeol responded easily. “Come on.”

“It’s dark, Chanyeol, like really dark. You sure you can handle it?”

“Are you questioning my honor?”

“I’m questioning your stupidity.”

“Baekhyun.”

“I fixed up cars with my dad a lot when I was younger. We totally redid this old mustang, you should’ve seen it.” Baekhyun’s eyes were shining. “New engine, sleek blue paint, she was a goddess.” He smiled softly.

“Anyway, my mom was a full-on crack head. Always high, and she sold the shit, too. We didn’t realize just how much she was spending until some loan sharks showed up at my dad’s garage one day, demanding payment that we didn’t have. We shut down early, and my dad approached my mom about it. He sent me up to my room, but I could still hear them screaming at each other.”

Baekhyun shut his eyes tightly, losing himself in the memory. Chanyeol rubbed his hand along Baekhyun’s arm in what he hoped was a comforting manner. It must have worked, because Baekhyun took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and kept going.

“It got really quiet after a while, so I went downstairs and they were both gone. I ran out to the garage, and that mustang we’d been working on was gone too. I stuck around on my own for a while, but after around a week I called the cops. They did a search and found my dad washed up in a river somewhere, and my mom was just gone.” Baekhyun swallowed dryly.

“I have no idea if the loan sharks got to them, or if my mom went full-on insane and offed him or what. So, I got dragged into the system.” Baekhyun laughed dryly. “They act like they care about you, but they definitely don’t. I was in, what, 16 foster homes total? I was what they called a ‘troubled’ kid. Anyway, after seven years of being dragged around by the state, I turned 18 and got myself out of that hellhole.

“One of the other guys from my last foster home snuck out a few times a month to go racing. He told me about it, and so when I got out I decided to go to one. I fixed up my car and raced. It was great, and I won. My first fucking race, and I creamed the guy who came in second. What a day.” Baekhyun smiled again. “The pot was decent, and after a few races I was able to build up a savings. I bought this place a little over a year ago.”

Chanyeol looked around. The apartment was nice, albeit a bit small. Though, considering Baekhyun lived alone it wasn’t like he needed much more.

“It’s not much.” Baekhyun seemed to read his thoughts. “But it’s got a kitchen, and a bed and a bathroom. Plus, it’s all mine, you know? Like, that’s pretty fucking cool that it’s mine and no one else can fuck with this thing I’ve got going for me.”

“Your vibe,” Chanyeol spoke up.

“Precisely.” Baekhyun yawned. “Congrats. In a single night, you learned more about me than any one of my friends.”

He hit Chanyeol’s chest lightly. “Don’t go blabbing now, Empire. I won’t be happy.”

“Don’t worry,” Chanyeol replied seriously, resting his head atop Baekhyun’s.

Baekhyun’s breathing slowed down considerably, and it wasn’t hard to assume that he’d fallen asleep. Chanyeol decided that he’d give him a few minutes to rest, then bug him for a ride home.

He certainly didn’t plan on falling asleep too.

                                    ========================

 Chanyeol woke up to a loud crash of thunder, lightning flashing through the small apartment. Rain pounded against the window, and a chill had settled along his bare skin.

Of course, the sleeping boy curled into his side helped chase the cold away.

Chanyeol turned his head, squinting at the clock hung on the half wall. It was a little after 5:30. As gently as he could, he rolled over to look at the small male still curled up against his side.

All his harsh lines disappeared when Baekhyun was asleep, and he had sweat off his makeup earlier in the night, giving his whole face a softer, younger look. Chanyeol figured the boy must be around his age, maybe younger.

Chanyeol let out a deep breath, laying his head back against the pillow once again. Baekhyun groaned in his sleep and Chanyeol froze, waiting for the male to settle back down. Baekhyun rolled his head around for a second, burrowing it against Chanyeol’s shoulder. His fingers changed so they were pressing slightly into Chanyeol’s chest, almost as though he could tell that Chanyeol was thinking about leaving.

Chanyeol looked at the clock again. He had class at nine, but he needed to shower and eat something, and find his way back to campus. He never finished his reading from the night before either, and that needed to be done before his period at 10:45.

Chanyeol shot a look at Baekhyun once again, watching to see if the smaller was asleep again. Determining he was, Chanyeol maneuvered his way out of the boy’s koala hold on him, rolling gently off the bed.

Baekhyun stirred again and Chanyeol froze, watching as he grabbed the sheets in his hands and pulled them all the way up to his chin. Baekhyun rolled over, burying himself on the pillow and under the sheets. Chanyeol let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding and tip-toed around the bed to pick up his discarded jeans. He grabbed them and went directly to the bathroom, shutting the door quietly and turning on the light. Chanyeol grabbed the edge of the sink and blinked rapidly, not expecting the light to be so fucking bright.

He fished his phone out of the back pocket of his pants, sighing. 5:41am, the bright screen read. 13 new messages. 6% power.

God dammit.

Chanyeol shoved his long legs into his jeans, pulling them up and buttoning them. He then turned on the sink and splashed some cold water on his face to fully wake himself up. He dried his face off with the hand towel and picked his phone back up, unlocking it.

Debating for a minute, Chanyeol decided to call one of his other roommates.

“What in the ever-living fuck do you want.” Sehun grumbled into the phone, picking up after the third ring.

“I need a ride,” Chanyeol whispered, shooting a desperate look at the door and praying Baekhyun was still asleep.

“At 5 in the goddamn morning.”

“It’s almost 6.”

“That means nothing you dipshit.”

“Oh Sehun, you get your lazy ass in your pretty little white car and come pick me up,” Chanyeol demanded.

“Why should I?”

“Fucking Christ, Sehun, don’t make me call Luhan and tell him that you have a crush on him because dammit, I will.”

“You wouldn’t.” Sehun suddenly sounded a lot more awake.

“Do you really want to try me?”

There was a pause, then a rustling. Chanyeol assumed Sehun was getting out of bed. “Text me your location.”

“I knew you’d come around.”

“Fuck you.” Sehun cut the phone. Brat.

Chanyeol turned on his location on his phone and prayed, though he wasn’t religious in the slightest, that his phone would last until Sehun got to Baekhyun’s apartment complex.

He turned on his flashlight and cut the light in the bathroom, opening the door and tip-toeing out. Chanyeol risked a look at the bed and he saw Baekhyun still curled in a ball, sheets fisted under his chin. He looked cold.

Chanyeol glanced towards the front door and his clothes piled with his shoes by the couch, then he turned to look back at Baekhyun. He couldn’t just leave him like that.

Shoving his phone in his pocket, Chanyeol slowly made his way back to the bed in the corner. As gently as he could, Chanyeol grabbed the blanket that had been shoved off the bed at some point the night before and unfolded it, laying it over the sleeping boy. Baekhyun relaxed instantly, adjusting his grip to hold the blanket along with the sheets.

Chanyeol smiled and backed up. He pulled his shirt on and threw his jacket over his arm, holding his shoes in his hand. He opened the front door silently, slipping out and shutting it just as quietly.

The open hallway was cold, and Chanyeol pulled on his jacket immediately with a shiver. He hadn’t thought that through. Shoving his feet in his vans and lacing them up, Chanyeol checked his phone again. 3%.

Wow. Great. Awesome.

Right then, his phone went off with a text from Sehun.

           I’m here asshole.

Chanyeol took a deep breath and walked over to the ledge, spotting Sehun’s white Hyundai sitting right by the staircase he and Baekhyun had stumbled up earlier that night. Chanyeol looked up at the dark sky. The rain was missing him for the most part, but he knew that the second he stepped down the stairs he was going to be soaked. He groaned internally and darted out into the weather.

“Shit!” He yelled, squinting to see through the dark and rain as he tried not to miss any steps.

“Shit, it’s cold.” He complained as he threw himself in Sehun’s passenger seat, slamming the door.

The younger man looked at him unamused as he threw a towel in Chanyeol’s face. “Who’s the dude?” He asked, shifting the car into gear and pulling out of the parking lot.

“Just a dude,” Chanyeol responded shortly, stripping out of his wet jacket and starting to dry off his arms.

“Pull off your shirt, too. I brought you one of your hoodies, it’s in the back.”

Chanyeol smiled, ripping his cold shirt off. Sehun may have complained about getting dragged out of bed in the middle of the night, but underneath that bitch persona, he was a really sweet kid. A year younger than Chanyeol, Sehun was a sophomore at the same college.

He and Jongin had taken in Sehun and Jongdae, their other roommate, when they found an apartment and were looking for new guys to split the rent. Sehun and Jongdae were in a similar position, and the four boys clicked instantly when they’d all met for dinner at one of the campus’s dining halls. How suspicious it was that Sehun’s true colors came to the surface after they’d all signed the lease?

The drive home was quiet, save for the low radio and the dull pattering of rain against the windshield. Sehun was a good driver, but it still startled Chanyeol when he glanced over to the driver’s seat and saw his roommate when he was expecting to see a certain male with a taste for speed and a need to win.

No, he definitely was not disappointed. Not in the slightest.

Or so he told himself.

It seemed like seconds later he and Sehun were dashing into their apartment, shivering and welcoming the warm air.

“Shower.” Chanyeol murmured, heading for his bedroom. “Hot shower.”

“I deserve a thank you, don’t you think?” Sehun annoyingly planted himself on Chanyeol’s doorframe. “Donuts. Gas money. A 12-pack. I’m not picky.”

Chanyeol rolled his eyes as he dug around in his dresser for fresh underwear. “You get Luhan continuing to live in ignorance of your love. Anything more and you’re going to start owing me.”

Sehun huffed, stalking down the hall to his and Jongdae’s shared room. “Bastard.”

“I’m still older than you!” Chanyeol yelled down the hall. A door slam was Sehun’s only rebuttal.

Chanyeol groaned and flopped face-first on his bed. A shower could wait, he decided. He was exhausted, and his priority was sleep. Chanyeol vaguely remembered plugging his phone in on his nightstand and he had a fleeting memory of the bed feeling empty before he fell asleep again.

                                    ========================

 “—And then, oh god, he fucking dropped to his knees right there, right in the hallway of the fucking science building, and I’m pretty sure he was actually going to suck me off then and there when—Chanyeol are you even fucking listening to me?” Jongdae sighed impatiently, slamming his hand down on the latter’s unopened notebook.

“Hm?” Chanyeol hummed, jumping up as his eyes focused on Jongdae. “Were you saying something?”

Sehun snickered behind his hand and Jongdae’s eyes narrowed. “What is going on with you? You’ve hardly touched your food.”

Chanyeol looked down, surprised to see his plate still full while the other two had already finished their lunches. “Sorry, I’m just distracted. I still have a test, and I’m not done with my paper yet.”

“Still thinking about your self-proclaimed ‘bad boy?’” Sehun asked with a smirk. Chanyeol kicked him under the table and Sehun winced at the contact, immediately complaining loudly at his “unnecessary use of violence against the youngest of the group.”

“No.” Chanyeol hissed.

“What ‘bad boy?’” Jongdae asked innocently.

“No one—”

“Chanyeol spent last night at some dude’s house.” Sehun supplied, all too happy to fill in the blanks for Jongdae.

“Look at you.” Jongdae nodded satisfactorily. “I’m so proud.”

“Thanks, I guess?” Chanyeol asked, and Jongdae nodded again.

“So, this guy is a ‘bad boy,’ huh?”

“Kind of.”

“Care to elaborate?” Sehun pestered with a smile. Chanyeol sent a glare in the younger’s direction.

“Not really—”

“He’s a friend of Kyungsoo’s,” Jongin replied instead, plopping in the seat next to Chanyeol. “Sorry I’m late. My exam ran over. You also never called me last night, asshole.” He hit Chanyeol’s arm.

“I was kind of busy, okay?” Chanyeol pouted and rubbed his reddening arm.

“And Kyungsoo is…?” Jongdae questioned.

“My boyfriend. He races cars.”

“Legally?”

“What would be the fun in that?” Jongin took a large bite of his sandwich.

“Interesting,” Sehun smirked. “And what does your mystery boy do, Chanyeol?”

“He doesn’t—”

“Who? Baekhyun?” Sehun laughed victoriously and Chanyeol laid his head on the table in despair. Jongin continued, talking around the food in his mouth. Gross. “He races too. He’s the best out there. Chanyeol could tell you all about that, he rode with him for a heat.”

Sehun’s eyes lit up, and Chanyeol can already see the blackmail being pooled and organized in behind his expressive eyes. Chanyeol loved Jongin, he really did, but sometimes his best friend was just so fucking dense that he wanted to strangle him.

Jongdae stared at Chanyeol, completely flabbergasted. “You? With an illegal street racer?”

“In bed?” Sehun cried in glee.

“Shut up.” Chanyeol hissed, lifting his head to glare at his best friend. No, ex-best friend.

“Oh, yeah. Speaking of which.” Jongin turned to Chanyeol. “There’s another race on Friday. You coming?”

“I want to come!” Sehun yelled excitedly. Jongdae simply shook his head.

“I don’t think so,” Chanyeol replied carefully. “I’m really tired, it’s been a big week and I wanted a night with Stella. I’ve been neglecting her all week.”

“Jesus, it’s no wonder you don’t have a boyfriend.” Sehun rolled his eyes. “Who the fuck names their instrument?” Sehun was learning all sorts of things about Chanyeol during that lunch period, and he was loving every second of it.

“Everyone even remotely involved with one.” Chanyeol shot back, annoyed. “Luhan named his flute Jennifer.”

Sehun gawked. Luhan plays an instrument? With his mouth? Sehun would be damned if that wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever heard.

“So come then. What’s the harm?” Jongin asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.

“Won’t things be kind of, uh, awkward?” Chanyeol sputtered out. He hadn’t spoken to Baekhyun since their night together. Sure, he felt guilty running out on him like that, but he’d also had a feeling that it had been nothing more than a one night stand and that Baekhyun would want him gone as soon as he woke up.

Baekhyun. Somehow, the racer hadn’t left Chanyeol’s mind since Tuesday. He’d slept through his alarm and missed his first class, barely making it to his second on time after running out of the shower only to be kicked out since he’d forgotten to do the reading. Chanyeol wondered if he’d been on the other’s mind even half as often as the racer was on his. He found himself hoping that Baekhyun missed him, then chided himself for it. It was a one night stand, Chanyeol. Get a grip and move on.

Oh, god, that night. Baekhyun, who had been so beautiful, working Chanyeol up all night with his bad boy persona and his vibe and his car and his cigarette. Baekhyun, who had relinquished his hard-held control to Chanyeol just for a few hours. Baekhyun, who had looked so beautiful sprawled under Chanyeol on the bed, back arching. Baekhyun, who’s moans—

“Chanyeol?” Jongin snapped his fingers in front of Chanyeol’s face. “Welcome back. Are you good?”

“I have to get to class.” Chanyeol blurted out in a rush, standing up suddenly and grabbing his backpack and still-full plate.

“B-but—but class doesn’t start for another half hour!” Jongdae sat up, surprised by Chanyeol’s sudden outburst.

“I need to go.” Chanyeol reiterated, heading towards the dish disposal and the front door.

“Wait, Chanyeol! What about Friday?” Jongin called after him.

“Sure.” He heard himself say. No, take it back. “I have nothing better to do.” Stella’s going to be furious. Idiot.

“Perfect.” Jongin smiled a very un-Jongin-like smile, and Chanyeol had to wonder if his plan all along had been to get the taller thinking about Baekhyun long enough to convince him to go to another race.

It worked.

Unapologetically, Chanyeol tossed his uneaten food in with the pile of dirty dishes and ran out of the dining hall. He kept running, though he had plenty of time before class, all the way to the music building. Without saying ‘hello’ to anyone he passed, he opened the locker he’d rented from the school and pulled Stella out along with his songbooks and replaced her with his backpack. He slammed the locker shut, locking it and heading to a practice room on the third floor.

He needed to clear his head. Everything was just too much—why was he constantly thinking about a boy he’s only just met? Chanyeol had known when he’d gone home with Baekhyun what would happen and what the expectations of the night were, yet here he was pining after the kid like a middle school girl after some One Direction member.

“What the fuck?” He shook his head as he began tuning the guitar, setting his favorite book on the music stand and adjusting it. Focus. He did his best to shove the dark-haired boy to the far corners of his mind.

Though it seemed, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the boy from his conscious. He kept screwing up the basic chords, and for some reason his left hand couldn’t center on the strings.

“Fuck me.” He groaned, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes so hard he was seeing all the colors at once.

He missed that night. The car, the ride, the dry humor and dirty flirting, the thrill of breaking the law, it almost felt like a dream. It was a dream he hadn’t wanted to wake up from yet there he was, back on campus, trapped once again in the endless cycle of “go to class, get the right grades, plan the rest of your life better than the back of your hand.”

Chanyeol was stuck. He hadn’t known how bad it had been until he’d gotten a taste of freedom, until he’d really lived for the first time in his life. He remembered all too clearly the rush of the car, the feeling of flying, and the strange security he’d gotten though the car had been racing along at 140 miles per hour.

It had been a day, less even, and he already felt so boring. So empty. He missed the adrenaline, the momentary panic and the endless relief every time a corner had been cut too close or another car almost got in the way. He wanted to go back to the races—that much he knew.

He was addicted to the danger now, and it was all Jongin’s fault. What’s new.

But then again, was it the danger Chanyeol was addicted to, or was it Baekhyun?

                                    ========================

 Chanyeol had the strangest sense of déjà vu.

Here they were, Jongin dragging Chanyeol through the crowd once again towards his boyfriend and their group.

This time, however, Chanyeol couldn’t take his eyes off a familiar grey BMW parked to the side and a waft of smoke coming up from the side.

“Is it really that hard to be on time?” Kyungsoo asked, walking up to the pair with a bright smile. Jongin smiled back, letting go of Chanyeol and instead wrapping his arm around Kyungsoo’s waist.

“Okay, Chanyeol, Kyungsoo, my boyfriend. Kyungsoo, my friend, Chanyeol.” Jongin gestured between the two.

“Nice to meet you.” Chanyeol nodded distractedly.

“Be nice.” Jongin chided, swatting him on the arm.

“Let him be,” Kyungsoo whispered. He’d spoken to Baekhyun and knew that the small racer would be looking for him too. “Baekhyun’s by his car.” He addressed Chanyeol.

“Right.” Chanyeol was making his way through the crowd towards the smoke, leaving the two boys behind in the road. He paused. “I’m going to get a drink.” He clarified before turning and walking towards the group again.

“He’s smitten,” Jongin smirked, watching his friend obviously heading for the BMW.

“So are you.” Kyungsoo nudged his boyfriend’s shoulder with his forehead.

“You’re right.” Jongin dragged his attention from Chanyeol to look down at Kyungsoo. “Now, how about a good luck kiss?”

Chanyeol tried using his height as an advantage on his way through the crowd, craning to see if he could get a glimpse of a small, dark-haired boy with a fucking cigarette between his lips.

Chanyeol could see a head of black, beautifully messy hair above the car as he came around.

Chanyeol froze. What if he doesn’t want to see me? Chanyeol realized that maybe Baekhyun had just wanted him to have sex, and he didn’t want to see him anymore now that it was done and over with. There went his nerve. He needed to go.

Before he had time to turn around and hopefully lose himself in the crowd, some drunk ran into Chanyeol’s back, pushing him around the car and landing directly in front of Baekhyun.

“Empire?” Baekhyun breathed, letting out a string of smoke and looking…relieved? What?

Before Chanyeol could respond, the drunk who’d run into him shoved him again. “What the hell, shithead? What’s your problem?”

“Nothing.” Chanyeol turned around, raising his hands in front of his face and unconsciously stepping in front of Baekhyun, who glanced worriedly at Chanyeol’s back. “Nothing, man. It was an accident.”

“Don’t fucking ‘man’ me, you ran into me.” The drunk took an accusatory step forward, pointing in Chanyeol’s face threateningly. Chanyeol may have been one of the tallest people there, yet the drunken stranger was even taller than him. “You little pussy ass—”

“Hey, I’m sorry, okay?” Chanyeol took a step back and felt Baekhyun’s hand settle reassuringly on his waist. “It was on me, right? So, I’m sorry.”

“You’d fucking better be sorry, motherfucker, or I swear to fucking god—” The man was up in Chanyeol’s face now, though Chanyeol refused to take another step back knowing it would put him at a disadvantage considering A. that would back him against the car and give the drunk the upper hand, and B. Baekhyun was behind him, and that would put the attention on the shorter male, which Chanyeol wasn’t about to let happen. “—I fucking swear to fucking god I will go straight for your little boyfriend back there.”

Geez, this guy cursed more than Sehun.

Chanyeol felt Baekhyun stiffen behind him, but he refused to take his eyes off the guy threatening the two. “We don’t want any trouble,” Chanyeol spoke slowly, sensing Baekhyun moving out from behind him. “Why don’t you just leave us alone?”

“That would be just too fucking easy.” The man sneered. Baekhyun was now fully out from Chanyeol, and he felt the smaller male remove his hand from his waist. That strange, empty feeling was back again.

“It was an accident,” Baekhyun spoke up, and both Chanyeol and the drunk turned to look at him. “He apologized, I’m apologizing, even though it was your fault, so why don’t you just get out of here?”

“You little whore—” The man took a step towards Baekhyun, but Chanyeol grabbed his arms.

“Don’t call him—ah!” The man had shoved Chanyeol back against the car, the lapels of Jongin’s leather jacket fisted in his hands. Jongin’s going to murder me 17 different ways.

“I wasn’t talking to you, bitch.” The man hissed, getting right in Chanyeol’s face again. Chanyeol could see the bloodshot eyes and smell the alcohol reeking from the guy.

“Let him go!” Suddenly the weight was gone, and Baekhyun had whirled the guy around and, shit, punched him square on the nose.

Both parties let out a wail, the guy holding his most-likely broken nose and Baekhyun cradling his hand.

“Oh, shit, oh fuck, oh my god my hand.” Baekhyun moaned, holding his hand to his chest and curling in on it.

Chanyeol was at his side in an instant. “Baekhyun, what the actual fuck did you do?!” He asked incredulously, wrapping an arm around the smaller male’s shaking shoulders. “Whoa, hey, it’s okay.”

Chanyeol gave the drunk a fleeting glance as he stood up, taking off to wherever his acquaintances were waiting for him, before returning his attention to Baekhyun.

“We need to get you some ice. Come on.” Chanyeol steered Baekhyun around and walked him around the car towards where the rest of the group was. “There’s ice in the cooler, right?”

It was a stupid question, but Baekhyun nodded anyway. “There should be.”

“Baekhyun, what the fuck?” Some guy Chanyeol had never seen before ran over to where the two were.

“Long story.” Baekhyun managed between pained breaths. “I need ice.”

“Sure, sure, I’ll meet you by your car.” The guy rushed off, and Chanyeol helped Baekhyun sit up on the hood of his car.

“Baekhyun, what the hell?” Chanyeol glared at Baekhyun.

“What?” Baekhyun glared back.

“Why the hell did you punch that guy? What the fuck were you thinking, taking on a guy twice your size?” Chanyeol nearly growled.

“Are you fucking kidding me? He was bugging you, and you weren’t going to do shit so I had to step in.” Baekhyun spoke like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“I was trying not to get violent.” Chanyeol reasoned.

“Well, he wasn’t trying to not get violent, and you have to play fire with fire, right?”

“No!” Chanyeol sighed, exasperated. “No, we should have just walked away and let him lose interest.”

“If you think I was about to leave my car near a bunch of drunks then you are very, very wrong.”

“That’s not what I—either way.” Chanyeol shook his head. “I was going to handle it, I was trying to keep you out of it.”

“You’re a literal puppy, what could you have done? I’m willing to bet that you’ve never punched a guy before. That guy was ready to beat the shit out of you, and you weren’t going to fight back? Seriously, Chanyeol, that guy was pissing me the fuck off. Don’t tell me you weren’t pissed the fuck off, too.”

Before Chanyeol could respond, the strange guy from before was back with a bag of ice and a towel. “Here, Baek.”

Baekhyun gingerly took the ice pack and laid it across his swelling knuckles. “Thanks, Yixing. Hey, how do you know if your hand is broken?”

The man, Yixing, shot Baekhyun a look that screamed, are you fucking kidding me?

“I’m asking for a friend.”

“Give me your hand.” Yixing took Baekhyun’s hand and inspected it carefully, stretching it and applying pressure and holding it in different positions all while asking questions that sounded very medical.

“I don’t think it’s broken, but it’ll be sore for a few days. I have some medical wrap in my truck, give me a second, I’ll go grab it and we’ll get you all patched up.”

“You’re the best, Xing.” Yixing shot the pair a dazzling smile before walking in the direction of a dark green pickup.

“Yixing is in medical school.” Baekhyun supplied, hissing as the ice came in contact with his injured hand again. “He’s pretty handy to keep around. A great friend too, not much of a lightweight.” Chanyeol hummed in response, watching the man walk away.

Baekhyun droned off, looking down at his hand.

“Why did you leave?” He asked suddenly, quietly, nervously.

“What?” Chanyeol turned to look at Baekhyun, who refused to lift his eyes from his lap.

“Monday. Or, I guess it was Tuesday. Why did you leave?” He looked up, meeting Chanyeol’s eyes. Chanyeol felt the same aura in surrounding them as when Baekhyun had been telling him about his past. Broken. Vulnerable. Scared.

“I—I just figured that, uh, you’d wanted me to?” Chanyeol forced out.

Baekhyun chuckled breathily. “Right. That’s why I told you my whole sob story. Because I tell that shit to everyone, right?”

“Baekhyun—”

“You know, I actually thought we had a connection, and I thought you felt it too. Not just, like, physically, but I just felt drawn to you, you know?” Baekhyun shook his head dejectedly. “I held your hand. I felt like a girl, but you got nervous and I actually fucking held your hand and—dammit, I must sound like an idiot.”

“No,” Chanyeol responded instantly. “No, you don’t.” He leaned back against the car. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all week, you know?”

Baekhyun looked up at Chanyeol questioningly. The taller nodded.

“I skipped more classes this week than I did all last semester, because fuck you make me feel things that I haven’t felt since my last boyfriend and, just, it’s freaking me out.”

“So, you’re saying I’ve corrupted you now that you’re playing hooky on a regular basis?” Baekhyun asked with a small smile.

“That’s what you got out of what I just said?” Seriously?

Baekhyun laughed. “Well, the other stuff, too. That’s all great.” He sobered. “Actually, it’s really great, because I really want to kiss you again.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Chanyeol took Baekhyun’s face in his hands and pulled him close, connecting them lightly. Baekhyun pressed back into the kiss, his good hand coming up to circle the back of Chanyeol’s neck. Chanyeol sighed, relaxing on top of the smaller male.

Wow, would you look at that? That empty feeling was gone again. Huh.

Chanyeol licked along Baekhyun’s lower lip and the smaller granted him entrance immediately, their tongues dancing around each other. Chanyeol leaned his hands down on either side of Baekhyun’s legs, and Baekhyun smiled into the kiss as he was forced to lean back to compensate for Chanyeol’s tall form.

“Okay, so I have the—oh. Uh, I—I can come back later.” The two pulled apart to see a flushing Yixing standing awkwardly, an ace wrap and some medical tape in his hands. Baekhyun chuckled breathlessly.

“He’s all yours.” Chanyeol took a step back, Baekhyun’s left hand fitting perfectly in Chanyeol’s right. He squeezed every couple seconds as Yixing was wrapping his hand, trying not to move. Chanyeol squeezed back reassuringly as Baekhyun screwed his eyes shut.

“You’re good, Baek,” Yixing said with finality once he secured the wrap with a little clip.

“Thanks.” Baekhyun clenched his fist experimentally, smiling when he discovered that it didn’t hurt nearly as much as he thought it would.

“Are you still racing tonight?” Yixing asked.

“I think so. I have a reputation to uphold. It’s about to get a lot cooler when I win with a broken hand.”

“It’s not broken.”

“Let me milk this, Xing.” Baekhyun winked and Yixing rolled his eyes, walking off grumbling something about “drama queens.”

“You’re still racing?” Chanyeol asked worriedly.

Baekhyun shrugged. “It’s not that bad.” He clenched his fist again. “I’ll still be able to shift okay.”

Chanyeol chewed his bottom lip, squeezing Baekhyun’s hand again. He squeezed back.

“Hey, I’m a professional, remember? I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Are you doubting me?” Baekhyun asked with a gasp.

“Naturally.” Chanyeol teased.

Baekhyun smirked. “Well, since you happen to think that I won’t win, then I guess you won’t mind putting a little wager on this race?” He stroked his thumb over the back of Chanyeol’s hand.

“What’s the prize?” Chanyeol asked with a smile, leaning against the car right next to where Baekhyun was sitting.

“A date. A real one.” Baekhyun looked at Chanyeol nervously.

“I would’ve said yes if you’d just asked,” Chanyeol responded with a smile.

“Aw, where’s the fun in that, though?” Baekhyun leaned his head against Chanyeol’s shoulder, looking up at him through his fringe.

“Alright then, Byun, you have yourself a deal. You have to win though.” Chanyeol warned with a smile.

“No problem.” Baekhyun beamed. Across the lot, Kyungsoo climbed into his car with Jongin wishing him luck. “It looks like I need to go.”

“Good luck.” Chanyeol knelt down outside the open window once Baekhyun got settled, the engine sputtering to life.

“Thanks, Empire. But I don’t need it.” He smirked, running his hands over the wheel.

“Aw, come on, let me be a supportive date.” Chanyeol teased.

Baekhyun leaned through the open window and gave Chanyeol a short peck. “That’s all the luck I need.” And with that, he followed Kyungsoo out of the lot.

“You seem to be all cleared up,” Jongin commented, meeting Chanyeol as they watched their respective partners take their places in the lineup.

“Yeah.” Chanyeol smiled. “All he needs to do is win this race.”

“You do know that Baekhyun doesn’t lose, right?”

“I’m counting on it.”

                                    ========================

 Baekhyun didn’t even pull back into the lot when he won. He just stopped in front of Chanyeol, unlocking the passenger door and rolling down the window.

“Get your gorgeous ass in the car, Empire.”

Here’s a college Chanyeol all made over by his best friend Jongin to head to the races for the first time (I see them all in like Call Me Baby era except Baekhyun’s hair is dark brown/black instead of blond)

- Admin Em (certified baekyeol trash I’m not sorry)

[kcookendrick]

What It Is

Who: Behati Prinsloo and Anna Kendrick  @bxprinsloo

When: June 11th, 2018 

Summary: Behati and Anna meet up for lunch with Dusty to talk about a few things and try to not make things as awkward when seeing each other 

Other mentions:  @hfamelevine

Anna: This was weird, meeting Behati for lunch with Dusty. The women truly didn't know how to feel about it, but the two were trying to get along for the sake of Dusty and for the sake of not giving Adam any more stress. Wearing black pants, a green top and white jacket Anna has never felt more nervous in here entire life. Sure the two went at it a few times, but it wasn't like they'd go at it today for some reason at least she hoped. Taking a breath, once arriving at the restaurant Behati told her to meet them at, Anna swallowed hard and put her hair half up half down while walking in. Scanning the room to see Behati's face, the actress chewed her lips and walked over once she noticed Dusty in the high chair.

Behati: Behati knew this was going to be a bit awkward for herself and Anna, but she was trying to make things work. It seemed like Anna was going to be in it with Adam for the long haul and instead of working around different schedules so they didn’t interact, she thought it would be better for Dusty as well as Adam that the two women tried to get along. Things seemed to go well at the concert the other night, so this lunch should be just as simple. After scooping up an energetic Dusty who had run off ahead of her, the woman headed inside, asking for seat near the back so they’d have some sort of privacy, even if the media already caught her arrival. Grabbing a highchair, she sat Dusty in it, taking off her daughters sunglasses and placing them on the table. Placing her own sunglasses on top of her head. She had picked an Italian restaurant, hoping it was something that Anna liked. She looked up, noticing the woman and smile. “Hi Anna, thanks for coming.”

Anna: Seeing Dusty, Anna took a deep breath and swallowed hard. It's been a few days since the women had seen the one year old and she missed her. It was a weird feeling, but Anna didn't mind. At the concert the other night, Behati and Anna talked for only a few moments and she held Dusty for another which was nice. Pushing her hair behind her ears, Anna leaned in and kissed Dusty's forehead "Hi sweet peat." She said to Dusty first, and then sat across from Behati "Hey, no problem. Sorry I look like crap, I was out all day yesterday. How are you?" She questioned, and picked began to chew her lips again

Behati: When Dusty turned to see Anna after her mother mentioned her name, Dusty smiled. “Anna Anna Anna!” She clapped eagerly. Behati smiled, looking down at her daughter. She felt bad that Dusty’s attention to Anna used to bother her, but she understood it now. The woman was trying, and that’s what mattered. “Hey no way. I swear makeup and getting glammed up is too overrated to do every day.” She waved it off with a soft laugh. “The only time I ever really do it is for work. I’m so lazy.” She pulling Dusty’s chair closer. “I’m good, trying to figure what to wear to Chris’ party. Are you going to that?” She raised a brow, looking over at Anna.

Anna: Hearing the one year old say her name three times, Anna smiled big while folding her arms on the table and shaking her head "What baby girl, what." Looking over at Behati, she sat up straight and took a breath but smiled softly "I had a three year old dump a whole bottle of glitter in my hair yesterday, and it took a while to get out so I was like, I'm not even going to try right now." She said, taking a breath and chewing her lips again. When Behati pulled Dusty's high chair closer, she looked at the one year old and smiled "Hi, I missed you." She said and then shrugged her shoulders replying with "I'm not sure, I'm not really in the mood to go out and party even though Chris is a friend. I just haven't been in the mood for anything really." Swallowing hard, she checked her phone for the time and put it back in her pocket "I know Adam's going though, he wants me to go with him but I don't know yet."

Behati: “It’s like they are onto something.” She laughed, noticing the way Anna’s hair was sparkling underneath the lights. “It’s a good look.” She shrugged, turning her attention back to Dusty who was playing with a Barbie she had brought from home. Fixing her daughters hair, she turned her attention back to the woman across from her. “How come? You should go, it would be fun for the both of you. You both need a break.” She chewed her lip, not wanting to cross any lines and bring up bad feelings about what she knew of Anna and Adam’s situation. It wasn’t her place.

Anna: Anna smiled, and then shook her head "Oh thank you, but that's nothin' she also decided to give me rainbow tattoo's an paint my hand so I was covered." Anna said, and then looked at Dusty for a few moments. Shrugging her shoulders, Anna sighed "It was kind of a rough weekend, so I might just stay home. I guess so, but this is the longest break I've been on." She laughed a little, and then took a sip of her water "Thank you, by the way... for not telling anyone about, you know." She said taking breaths, and then swallowed hard "Should we tell mommy how daddy hates musicals, so he refuses to let me teach you about them?" She said joking, but being half serious "Well not refuses, but still." Anna said, looking at Dusty while playing with her small hands.

Behati: “Kids are so weird. Aren’t you guys?” She tickled Dusty, who giggled and wiggled in her high chair. “Oh? Are you working on something soon? She asked curiously. “Maybe a Pitch Perfect.. Four? Unless you’ve already done four.. I’m terrible with keeping up with new movies.” She chuckled out of embarrassment. “Hey it’s no problem, I wouldn’t go around running my mouth with information like that. I’m not that kind of person. No matter what happened.” She hoped Anna understood that, the three already had enough media coverage on them as it was. She was sure now that they were spotting entering the same restaurant, it would be in the magazines too. “How is everything between you two with that by the way? If you don’t mind me asking.” She rolled her eyes with a sigh. “That man would have her on a strict schedule of listening to guitar riffs, rock and roll songs and drum beats if he could.” Behati joked. “Teach her if you’d like, I don’t know anything about musicals. I haven’t even seen The Wizard of Oz yet. Everyone says I’m crazy not to.” She smirked, noticing the waitress come up and great them. “You go ahead and order first.” She nodded to Anna.

Anna: "I've always called them little weirdos, when I first met Brittany Snow's kid Jude, I called him a little weirdo but I think that's because I call Brittany that." She said smiling softly while watching Dusty laugh, even thought this still felt a little awkward it was getting on well and honestly, the actress didn't mind this. Shaking her head, she shrugged her shoulders "I'd /love/ to do a fourth because those movies meant so much to me, but I think everyone is kind of sick of us by now." She said, laughing a little and then took another sip of her water while continuing with "Its actually a thriller, it's called A Simple Favor, the one I'm doing with Blake Lively. It's something totally out of my element, so it's nice." She said "I mean, I hope it's good." Anna took a piece of the bread now and ate it. "No I know I just, thank you. I'm.., you and my best friend are the only ones who know aside from Adam and well Patsy kind of just figured it out." She said quietly, and shook her head while sighing "I don't know, to be honest. I think Adam's handling it a /lot/ better than I am. We went to the doctors the other day to get pamphlets about IVF, and I found myself crying which is something I've been doing a lot lately." Anna said, she was never really big on crying. Her older brother always told her to suck it up, and be tough. Chewing on her lips she shrugged her shoulders again and laughed a little "Hey if he wants to teach her that stuff too, that's fine." Anna started, and then swallowed hard "My um, my dad used to sing me musicals as a baby cause he'd be the one to sing me back asleep. It'd usually be Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, she's too young for that though." Anna's eyes widened at the model and she took a breath "Wait you..." Stopping herself from becoming a huge musical nerd in front of the women, Anna sighed "You've /never/ seen The Wizard Of Oz?" Anna questioned, and then ordered her food once the waitress finally came

Behati: “I”m sure a lot of people would love at least one more to make it even, if you can.” She shrugged, handing Dusty the box of crayons and paper for Dusty to draw on that the waitress brought to their table. “Oh right! I forgot you told me about that. Blake is amazing, I literally only watched One Tree Hill for her and Leighton.” She admitted with a chuckle. “Sounds good though, it’ll be interesting to see for sure.” She nodded. “Patsy literally has a third eye or something, she just knows things.” Behati smiled at the mention of the woman, who was practically her second mom. She had learned a lot from her, and she had to thank her for it one day. “So you guys are serious about this having a baby thing huh?” She raised a brow, realizing how odd it was to be having this type of conversation with your ex husbands current girlfriend. “Don’t you guys think two months is a little fast be talking about kids? Especially if you had doubts about being around your boyfriends daughter? I mean, I know you guys are just looking into it, but isn’t that a little soon? Adam’s done this before, so it’s not new, but are /you/ ready? It’s a huge step to take..” The woman took her glasses off her head, placing them on the table next to Dusty’s. “I know, she loves music, maybe one day she’ll be singing too. Or be an angel like me.” She smiled proudly. Though whatever her daughter chose to be when she grew up, she’d support. She knew Adam would too. “Nope, never seen it.” She ordered herself lasagna for herself and some pasta for Dusty before handing the menus back to the waitress and thanking her. “Guess I just never had the time to.”

Anna: "We'll see, we'd have to have Elizabeth Banks and the author and our agents tell us. It's out of our hans at this point, unless Britt decides to take it up and pitch a fourth once since she's a director now." Anna said, taking a sip of her water again and finishing the bread. She looked over at Dusty smiling, while the one year old was starting to color. Nodding her head toward Behati, Anna smiled softly "I worked with her husband Ryan, he's a pain in my ass but I love him. I've met Blake through him, but this was the first time we've been like able to actually talk and get to know each other while filming." Anna said, not really knowing why she was telling Behati this. Taking a breath, Anna sighed "I just, I don't understand how she found out. I mean, do I look like a complete wreck? Please be honest, she said she knew the minute Adam and I walked into the house." Finishing her water, the brunette poured another glass and took another sip. Nodding her head gently, Anna sighed and shrugged her shoulders "I mean I like to think we are, I hope so. Sometimes I feel like whenever we talk bout it, we end up fighting." She said swallowing hard now, and began to chew on her lips "I think it's been a little more than two months" Anna started, and then sighed "If I was dating Adam or not, I would've had to go in for that check up anyway and I would've found out then too." Swallowing hard, she sighed "I know it's a huge step to take." Closing her eyes, she sighed again and shook her head "I um.., with my ex I had a scare and it actually broke us up" She said, starting to laugh a little "It's a long story, but I freaked out and I wasn't ready but with Adam I just..., I don't know." Talking about /this/ subject with Adam's ex wife was awkward, and she didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable so she changed the topic "If she picks up his talent with singing, and she begs for you, literally begs for you to addition on Broadway don't let her." She said laughing a little, but Anna was in no position to tell Behati on how to raise her kid "I'm not going to lie, there /are/ moments when I look back and realize I didn't really have chances to run around and get dirty." She said, and then smiled softly "Well, if it isn't too weird I'm loaning you my dvd and I'm making you watch it." Anna said, and then took another sip of her water.

Behati: “A director? Wow, that’s pretty awesome.” She listened to Anna, taking a piece of bread for herself, breaking off a small piece and handing it to Dusty. “Here babe.” She smirked, watching her daughter open her mouth instead of taking it from her, placing the food into the baby’s mouth. “They are an iconic couple, seriously.” She laughed, shaking her head. “No, Patsy is like that. All mothers are really. It’s that mom’s eye thing. Though Patsy is way advanced in it.” She ate a piece of bread herself, finishing it before talking again. “What did she say about it?” Bee ran her fingers through her ponytail, combing it. “Well that’s not a good start.. You should definitely think it through a little more, especially if you only think you’re ready and you two fight about it.” The woman chewed her bottom lip, looking down at the table. “Yeah.. Right..” The mention of how long they’d been together was the about the same amount of time Adam and herself had been apart stung a bit. She swallowed the lump in her throat, looking back at Anna. “Why? What happened?” Her brows furrowed, wondering why Anna was advising her not to but Dusty on Broadway. “I don’t think she’d be in any luck asking me anyways. I have no clue what goes on in that world.” She shrugged. “Nah, it’s not too weird.” She smiled at Anna reassuringly.

Anna: "Yeah, she can pretty much do everything." Anna said smiling softly, and then looked at Dusty while she was eating a piece of bread. "Blake is amazing, Ryan's just a pain in the ass but you learn to love him." She said in all honesty, and it was the truth about the Canadian. "She's got all those kids, so I guess she knows almost everything. I just, didn't want people to know or find out but I guess in time they will." Anna said shrugging her shoulders. Clearing her throat, Anna took a sip of her water and sighed "She said we'll get through it, he will but I don't know if I will. I'm, it's really hard for me to grasp onto the fact that I might not be able to naturally." Swallowing hard, she chewed her lips now and took a breath when she almost forgot that this was Behati she was talking to about how long she and Adam had been together "Im.., sorry I-" Stopping herself, Anna looked at her "Oh nothing, I loved it more than anything but I worked constantly which is why I'm a workaholic, and I had to move to the city and sometimes I wouldn't get brakes." Anna said, admitting from what she remembered about being on Broadway at such a young age "Its an intense World, but beautiful really." Anna said, realizing she probably sounded dumb but then nodded her head "Good, we won't tell Adam I lent you a musical."

[justlikeheavenfest]

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