[oneshot] room for two
Genre: mild romance, pwp
Warnings: swearing, sex
Notes: a roommate house party means chanyeol has to play the gracious host, but he can't help it if he's more preoccupied with jongin. written for kim_ri for the 2014 round of exok_ink, originally posted here. 3,855 words.
He's busy chopping veggies in the kitchen when his phone buzzes three times in quick succession. The KKT message from Sehun reads gonna be late, sorryyyyyyy ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ. Joonmyun's actually explains that Jaewon's keeping them back longer for practice, and the one from Jongin is just a button mash. Figures.
Chanyeol sighs, swipes the screen with a wet thumb, and folds his phone back in his pocket. Sungwoo sends him a concerned glance as he bustles by with a towering plate of samgyupsal. "Problem?"
"It's nothing," Chanyeol says, easy grin spreading over his face. "My band mates are going to be a little late, that's all."
The house party had originally been Nana's idea, or Soohyun's—Chanyeol can't really remember anymore through the blur of filming in the last month and a half. In keeping with the concept of the show, the PDs had naturally jumped on the opportunity to invite as many special guests as possible to visit the roommates in their new abode. From the outset, though, it'd been difficult to arrange something that fit in everyone's schedules. EXO, being fairly low on the seniority pole, hadn't really gotten much say. Even now, Kyungsoo's too busy filming his drama to stop by, and one of Baekhyun's Singin' in the Rain performances is tonight. All of M's in Beijing for the week. "We'll video call in," Jongdae had promised over the phone, but Chanyeol's pretty sure they have a gig tonight.
But there'll be more opportunities in the future. Three is better than nothing. And, on the plus side, the rest of 2NE1 is in the building, which means Chanyeol can be suave as hell (and get more screen time)—or, alternatively, be incredibly embarrassing and totally strike out while also getting more screen time. Win-win situation.
The doorbell rings just as Chanyeol's finishing up with the cucumbers and moving on to the carrots. Most of the guests of the night have already arrived. A cluster of people are gathered on the couches in the downstairs living room waiting for dinner to be served, and Kangjoon's friends are upstairs making a racket with the pool table. Chanyeol wipes his hands on the polka-dotted apron he'd appropriated from Bom and pokes his head out of the kitchen. Dongwook and Seho have hopped out to meet the latest arrival, Shin Dongyup, and are chatting up a storm in the main entrance. Chanyeol only has time to bow twice before Sungwoo ushers him back into the kitchen to mind the seolleongtang.
They've already bulldozed halfway through all the food (and the probably-spiked punch, courtesy of one of Kangjoon's old roommates and a large bottle of purloined wine from Soohyun's stash) when Joonmyun, Jongin, and Sehun finally make their grand appearance. A couple shouts of ah, EXO! and Chanyeol joins the mad scramble for the door, slides out to greet them with a mouthful of food. "I was expecting you guys to ride up on camels or something," Chanyeol mumbles, swallowing. "It's been like two hours."
"Don't be ungrateful," Joonmyun says, throwing an arm around his shoulders. "At least we came." He smiles past Chanyeol and lifts the pot in his hands. "We brought flowers."
"Sick apron, hyung," Sehun says, and flicks his finger against Chanyeol's chest.
They're all wearing their training clothes, which is nothing new—but it's summer. They're still sweaty. Chanyeol turns to face Jongin and gets distracted by the scooping neckline of his tank top, his toned arms, the loose slouch of his body. He's always had horrible posture for a dancer. Behind him, Chanyeol hears someone say, "Oh, look, they're so handsome," and his tongue curls up in his mouth when Jongin sends him an absent smile. "Are we going to go inside or what?"
"Yeah," Chanyeol says, shaking himself out of it. He grins back. "I gotta show you guys how sweet this place is compared to the dorm."
Inside, after the usual round of polite bows, Joonmyun takes a seat on the couches and falls deep into discussion with Seho about the architecture of the building, because of course he does.
"Have you eaten?" Chanyeol asks the other two, following their homing-beacon gazes toward the platters of food spread out on the dining room table. "Hold up, I'll go get clean plates."
They trail after him into the kitchen. One of Lee Sora's actor friends is leaning against the island and talking to Sungwoo as he grills more meat. He sends them a friendly wave from the stove.
"Look," Chanyeol says, handing the plates to Jongin and grabbing a knife off the cutting board, "Sungwoo-hyung taught me how to do this," and narrowly avoids slicing his hand open trying to spin the thing in his hand.
"You've gotten so much cooler since you moved in here," Sehun says drily, and ducks when Chanyeol thwacks at his head.
Chanyeol's worked up a fine buzz from the punch by the time someone suggests an innocuous drinking game. "We're all of age here, right?" Nana says with a gleam in her eyes, trudging up the stairs with a bunch of beers and a bucket of ice from the kitchen.
After dinner, most of the younger idols had convened in the upstairs living room, sitting on the smooth floorboards or draped across the couches. Predictably, Joonmyun stays downstairs. Last Chanyeol heard, he'd been talking to Dongwook about drama acting. Kangjoon's friends are still playing pool, though they've gotten progressively worse at it as the night has worn on. Chanyeol's on the ground, legs stretched out in front of him, head propped back against the seat of a sofa. He can hear someone downstairs banging on the piano, keys plinking, and the loud clack of billiard balls hitting each other. Feels the heat of Jongin's thigh next to his ear. Could bury his face in Jongin's lap if he just scooted over a little more and turned his head—
"Never have I ever pissed in a bottle," Sehun drawls from the couch next to theirs. Chanyeol snorts into the glass of beer clutched in his hand and takes a sip. On the floor across from them, prim and cross-legged, Dara does too.
"Really?" Bom squawks, shoving her shoulder. "You never told me about this."
Dara laughs, high and clear. "It was back in the Philippines. Sanghyun and my mom and I went on a day trip and the tour bus was in the middle of nowhere. I really had to go, okay?" Her eyes twinkle as she turns her head toward Chanyeol. "What about you, Chanyeol-sshi?"
"Sungwoo-hyung was taking too long in the shower yesterday," he says, shrugging, and Sehun starts yelling like a maniac about how gross he is.
"You mentioned showing us the house earlier," Jongin says later, after Chanyeol's polished off the rest of his beer. They're sitting in the same place as before but Jongin's like, a dog-magnet. The canine whisperer. Either way, somehow Giselle's ended up curled across Jongin's thighs, a little ball of fluff, her face nestled in his lap. No room for Chanyeol.
"Oh, yes," Chanyeol replies, looking up at him through his bangs. "The Exclusive Park Chanyeol Tour." He heaves himself up and picks his way to the hall leading down toward his room. "Sehun, are you coming?"
Sehun looks up from where he's been talking to Gayeon and waves him off. Jongin rolls his eyes. He sets Giselle down with one last pat to her head.
Chanyeol snorts and turns down the hallway with Jongin on his heels. "What a little snake. I didn't know Sehun was into getting hit."
"Are you kidding? He's definitely been getting tips from Baekhyun."
"That sounds like it'll end well," Chanyeol says. "I hope he knows what he's getting himself into." He pushes the door to his bedroom open. It's dark and quiet. He snatches Jongin's cap off his head as they walk inside and casually tosses it over the camera.
Jongin threads a hand through his hair. He nudges the door closed and flicks the lights on as Chanyeol gets to work unplugging the camera from the wall. "This is a really nice room, hyung."
Chanyeol tries not to sound to smug when he says, "I know."
"Do you like it here?"
He crosses over to the bed and sits down on the edge, deposits the empty glass of ice in his hands on the cabinet. "It's a lot more comfortable. Same number of roommates, almost, but the house is so much bigger. And, you know—no sasaengs knocking on the door trying to buzz in all the time."
Jongin sinks down next to him, hugging his knees to his chest. "You seemed, uh. Friendly with everyone. That's good."
"Jealous?" Chanyeol tries. He laughs when Jongin sends him a pinched look. "Don't worry. I've been low-key awkward with Soohyun and Minwoo since I found them wrapped around each other in the only closet in the entire house that doesn't have a camera in it." He thrusts his chin at the disconnected camera on the wall. "That's why I figured out how to do that. Just in case."
Jongin nods, eyelids drooping.
"You look tired," Chanyeol says, and reaches over to palm the back of Jongin's neck. Jongin gives this little full-body shiver and relaxes, head dipping down to hide his face. If Chanyeol tilts his head, he can see through the armholes of Jongin's tank shirt, straight to— "Wanna shower?"
Jongin makes a vague noise of agreement. Chanyeol shuffles them both into the bathroom and slides the lock in place. The water sobers him up, clean spray sluicing down his back. When he's finished rinsing, he helps Jongin lather up his hair, hands falling to Jongin's hips afterward, eyes glued to the generous swell where Jongin's back meets his ass.
He kneads his thumb into Jongin's skin and Jongin sighs, lets his head fall back so the water can wash all the shampoo out. Chanyeol leans forward. His mouth latches onto Jongin's neck, sucks gently at first and then increasingly harder, until Jongin lets out another gasp, the back of his head propped on Chanyeol's shoulder. They're arranged now so that Chanyeol's soft cock is tucked neatly in between Jongin's cheeks.
"You packed lube, right?"
"Who do you think I am?" Chanyeol murmurs into Jongin's nape. "Of course I came prepared."
Chanyeol steps out of the shower first, towels himself dry and shakes his hair out like a dog. Jongin spreads his arms obediently and lets Chanyeol run a second towel all over his body, rubbing beneath his arms and between his legs, over his head until his hair's sticking out in every direction. Jongin sticks his bottom lip out and huffs, bangs fluffing with the loud hiss of air, and it takes all of Chanyeol's considerable self-control to not push him up against the glass of the shower stall and fuck him there.
As it is, he just curls his hand around Jongin's neck again and guides him back out into the bedroom. Jongin falls into bed pliant and willing, wet hair dripping against the pillows.
Chanyeol grabs two ties from the closet. He leans down to fasten one of Jongin's wrists to each knee, folds his legs up and apart so that he's spread wide-open, soft cock lolling between them. Jongin tugs at the bonds, eyes curious.
"So maybe Sungwoo-hyung's taught me some other things," Chanyeol admits, and Jongin only has the time to suck in a sharp breath before Chanyeol's surging forward to kiss him.
Jongin's mouth opens up beneath Chanyeol's, hot and wet. Their tongues slide together easily. Chanyeol sucks on Jongin's plush bottom lip and hums, the sound vibrating into Jongin through their conjoined mouths, and Jongin lets out a quiet moan. He's always been so receptive to touch, sensitive to every way Chanyeol touches him, and he's panting before Chanyeol's even broken a sweat.
Chanyeol pulls back, wiping his mouth, and grins. "Living here is great," he confesses, "but I did miss you. This."
Jongin's eyes crinkle. Chanyeol lets himself drop, crushing their bodies together, and mouths at Jongin's perfect jaw, from just beneath his ear around the sharp angle and down the straight plane to kiss the underside of his chin and suck at the skin there. Even scrubbed clean it tastes warm and faintly salty. Chanyeol's tongue swipes across the column of Jongin's neck and licks at his Adam's apple, then trails down to trace the elegant jut of his collarbones, punctuated by intermittent sucks that make Jongin whine.
Chanyeol kisses his way to the smooth globe of Jongin's left shoulder and finally sinks his teeth in against the skin. Drinks Jongin's jagged moan in as he soothes the ache with his tongue, feels the indentations with the brush of his mouth. He bites back down and across to the other shoulder, leaves a pretty trail of marks Jongin's upper body. "You wore that tank top on purpose, didn't you?"
"All that bare skin was driving me crazy," Chanyeol says, his hands squeezing the backs of Jongin's thighs. He shifts down and drags his tongue across Jongin's chest just to feel him squirm underneath him. Does it again to hear Jongin squeak, so cute, and then hones in on a dark brown nipple, swirls his tongue around it and sucks hard.
Jongin's back arches. He pushes up into Chanyeol's mouth and groans loud enough to cover up the ambient noise filtering in from the party outside. Chanyeol feels the groan in his mouth as it rumbles up from Jongin's chest.
"Shh," Chanyeol murmurs, pulling back a bit and licking his lips. "Come on, we gotta be quiet." Then, a beat later: "Need me to gag you?"
Jongin moans again, as if the prospect turns him on.
"Use your words, Jongin."
"No. I—don't need it."
Chanyeol grins and bends his head down to take Jongin's other nipple into his mouth. "Good, because I like hearing you. Just not so loud." He sucks again and Jongin tenses up in an effort to muffle his noises, short breaths ruffling Chanyeol's hair.
Chanyeol scoots down further and tongues down Jongin's abdomen straight to the dip of his navel. Jongin's stomach has lost a lot of its definition over the years, but Chanyeol almost prefers the softness of his belly this way. Jongin sucks it in, and when Chanyeol looks up his face is flushed with embarrassment.
"Don't be like that," Chanyeol rasps, pinching Jongin's hip. "It's cute. You're cute." He bites gently off the center of Jongin's belly button and sucks a slow bruise into the skin. Sucks another one on the other side, and beneath his navel, anywhere he can get his mouth.
He pulls back fully to survey his handiwork. There are splotches of dark purple all down Jongin's front. His chest is heaving with breath, legs squeezing around Chanyeol's hips, fingers curling in the bedspread. Chanyeol glances down at Jongin's crotch. He's already hard and leaking against his leg and Chanyeol hasn't even touched his dick yet. His own cock gives a meaningful twitch at Jongin all laid out and ready for him, his pink mouth parted and trembling.
Jongin moans in protest when Chanyeol lifts off him to fish lube and condoms out of the cabinet. He rips the condom package open with his teeth and rolls it on, is about to climb back in bed when his eyes catch on the glass of melting ice. A thought pops in his head.
Jongin frowns at his pause. "Come on," he mutters, voice low and cracking. "We don't have all night."
"Wait," Chanyeol says, "let me try something," and reaches out to tip the glass against his lips. Chanyeol lowers his head, covers a nipple with his mouth, ice on his tongue, still tasting faintly of beer—and Jongin thrashes beneath him, whine reaching a high crescendo before it breaks.
Chanyeol gargles the rest of the ice and lets his mouth trail down Jongin's body again, the same trajectory as before, the long line of his torso twitching beneath Chanyeol's mouth with every suck. He changes tacks halfway through and moves all the way down to mouth at his balls, tongue running over the warm skin. Jongin shudders, hips bucking off the bed. "Please," he gasps. "Hyung, please—"
Chanyeol flips him over carefully, so Jongin's face is planted in the pillows, knees sliding across the sheets, ass in the air. He looks back at Chanyeol over his shoulder and tugs his bound wrists helplessly. Chanyeol kisses down the length of Jongin's sweaty spine, fingers working at the cap of the lube. He fumbles and it drips onto his hand, all over the sheets. "Shit," he mutters. He squeezes more out so his hand's drenched in it, gives his dick a couple of pulls, breath hissing between his teeth at the cool slickness, and then presses his index finger against the pucker of Jongin's asshole.
He circles the rim once, twice, three times—and Jongin moves backward, a low noise bubbling out of his mouth, something that sounds like tease. He tries humping the mattress and Chanyeol yanks him up again to stop him, dribbles more lube along Jongin's crack, grabs one full lobe of Jongin's ass with his hand, fingers digging into the meat. Stretches it sideways as he fits an unhurried finger inside Jongin, all the way down to the hilt. When Chanyeol wiggles the digit, Jongin shivers, squeezing around it. The pad of Chanyeol's finger rubs against his prostate and Jongin turns his face into the pillows, loud moan muffled against the cloth.
A bead of sweat rolls down the side of Chanyeol's face. He wipes his forehead and sinks a second finger into Jongin, as slow as before. Listens to the stifled sounds Jongin is making and resists the urge to rut against the mattress, his dick bouncing in the air as he straightens up on his knees.
He tugs Jongin back by the hips and lines himself up with Jongin's entrance, the tip just nudging against Jongin's asshole. Jongin rocks back and meets him as Chanyeol pushes inside, Jongin's tight heat encasing him completely. He opens up and relaxes, boneless, and rolls his hips to get Chanyeol moving again, fucking him up the bed until his head's knocking against the wall, thighs shaking with the force of Chanyeol's thrusts.
Chanyeol reaches down to give Jongin's dick a tug. Jongin wails into the pillows, clenching down so hard around Chanyeol's dick that he sees white for a moment. He sucks in a burning breath and bends over to lick at the beading sweat on Jongin's back, clean and salty, his hips stuttering erratically—barely pulling out now, shallow thrusts as the head of his dick brushes Jongin's prostate over and over again—
His other hand snaps down to smack Jongin's ass, the full swell jiggling as his palm stings. Jongin lets out a sharp cry and spills across Chanyeol's sheets. Chanyeol manages to pull himself out with Herculean effort, rolls Jongin over—almost knocks Jongin off the bed in his haste, but drags him back on in time—and buries his face in Jongin's crotch, swallows the tip of Jongin's dick in his mouth. He grunts as one of Jongin's heels smacks against his shoulder blade. "No, fuck, hyung, it hurts," Jongin wheezes, breathless and keening, trying to cringe away, but Chanyeol sucks him in deeper, licks Jongin's softening shaft like a lollipop until he's clean, the bitter taste of semen coating the inside of Chanyeol's mouth. "Jesus—Chanyeol—hyung—"
Chanyeol lifts off with a pop and slides his dick between Jongin's thighs, strong muscles closing around his erection, and pistons forward two more times before he comes, eyes squeezed shut, exhaling wetly into the air.
"Fuck," Jongin says, as Chanyeol collapses in bed next to him, the warm throb of satisfaction spreading out from his stomach to sit heavy in his limbs.
A moment later, amused: "Are you gonna untie me now?"
"Sorry," Chanyeol croaks, licking his lips. He undoes the binds around Jongin's wrists and slides them down his legs, flings them over the lamp. "Shit. Now I have to do laundry."
Jongin rolls his hands in a wrist stretch, yawning, and says, "You'll survive."
This is Chanyeol's favorite part: lying in bed in the afterglow, a warm body next to his, Jongin dozing off like he always does after he's been well-fucked. His breath tickles Chanyeol's skin as his head curls in to settle heavily against his shoulder. Chanyeol just about has a heart attack when someone that sounds like Raina starts knocking on their door, but tossing a panicky OCCUPIED toward the entrance seems to do the trick.
Chanyeol gives him half an hour before shaking him awake again. Jongin blinks the sleep out of his eyes and uncurls like a flower blooming, almost elbows Chanyeol in the face with his languid stretch.
By the time they get dressed and rejoin the party, half the other people in the house have fallen asleep on various articles of furniture and the other half have gone home for the evening. Chanyeol snatches an errant beer out of Sehun's hands as he walks them to the door.
"I doubt any of this footage is actually usable," Joonmyun remarks, sending Chanyeol a glance, "but it was fun, anyway. Thanks for having us."
"Stop by any time," Chanyeol says drily.
Jongin lingers behind when the van pulls up. He tucks a hand into the pocket of Chanyeol's jeans and murmurs, "We'll have to do that ice thing again. You know. Later." An arc of arousal lances up Chanyeol's spine as Jongin pulls away, ass bouncing as he goes. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from catcalling after him.
Inside, he helps Sungwoo and Bom clean up after the party—gathers the million empty beer cans scattered on every flat surface, washes the dirty dishes in the sink, and, weirdly, picks up three pool balls snuggled in the carpet on the first floor.
Bom dries the clean dishes and passes them to Chanyeol to put back in the cabinets, a frown crossing her face as something occurs to her. "Hey, what happened to my apron?"
Chanyeol freezes. It's still crumpled upstairs on the floor of the bathroom. "I'll go get it, noona," he says, and darts up the stairs.
His bed's still a fucking mess, and it reeks of come and sweat. Sungwoo walks into the room as Chanyeol's tearing the sheets off his mattress and sends Chanyeol a particularly knowing look, eyebrows raised.
"You know, Bom's body mist is pretty good at getting rid of sex smells," he says, grinning, and ducks into the bathroom with a towel.
Fuck, Chanyeol thinks. He can feel the tips of his ears burning. "Thanks for the tip, hyung," he calls, and stuffs the glaring bottle of lube back in the bedside cabinet.