Work Text:
Chanyeol is home by the time Kyungsoo has finished cooking dinner. It’s a simple meal today, nothing ornate, but Kyungsoo is careful like always.
The doorbell rings, a quarter past 7, and Kyungsoo busies himself with making the proper arrangements. The liver goes back into the trays tucked behind the jars of discount watery kimchi; the roasted lung gets stashed into the aluminum tray, covered beneath a blanket of chopped onions. Every morsel slots into its cover easily, just as usual.
By the time he’s done, the refrigerator could have been anyone’s- reconstructed with the same care of a crime scene. Kyungsoo is nothing if not meticulous with his somewhat peculiar habits.
“I’m home,” Chanyeol calls from the foyer and Kyungsoo tucks the last bit of pickled kidney into the jar, out of sight. He busies himself with stirring the pasta and bringing the toasted bread out onto plates. The heat sears through the plate burning his fingers and Kyungsoo nearly drops it, when Chanyeol sneaks up behind him to catch the plate with a steady hand.
“It’s hot,” Kyungsoo warns, but Chanyeol disregards him completely as he takes the plate and set it onto the island counter. He waves his hand in the air, shooting Kyungsoo a bright smile.
“I can handle it,” Chanyeol reassures him, but his bravado lasts all of a few seconds before he turns around to head towards the sink. Kyungsoo lets out a dry chuckle as Chanyeol turns on the tap with a wince to run his fingers under the water.
Kyungsoo watches him carefully out of the corner of his eye, as he sets the stove heat down to a simmer and takes out a serving spoon. Evidently, the burn on Chanyeol’s hand hurts a lot more than he lets on as he curses some more.
Kyungsoo opens his mouth to voice his concern, when Chanyeol playfully flicks the water on his hand on Kyungsoo’s back and swings around to slide open the freezer. The motion is quick, too fast for Kyungsoo to intercept and instead offer to grab the icepack for Chanyeol.
Kyungsoo holds his breath, watching the steam swirl out of the pot in slow, dense vapors. Chanyeol takes an eternity to pick out which ice pack he wants, before peeking back out with a satisfied expression.
“Ahh,” he says with a relieved sigh. “That’s much better.”
Kyungsoo gives him a slight smile, letting out a breath of his own when Chanyeol shuts the freezer with his elbow and makes his way over to Kyungsoo by the stove.
“Can you kiss my hand to make it feel better?” Chanyeol asks, oozing that same pathetic charm that landed him the first date with Kyungsoo. He sticks his hand out in friend of Kyungsoo’s face who wrinkles his nose in distaste.
Kyungsoo blows lightly on the spoon and gives it an experimental lick. He sprinkles a pinch of salt into the pot and swallows the sauce in his mouth down with a wry smile, “In your dreams.”
Kyungsoo wouldn’t describe what he and Chanyeol have going on as dating.
It started maybe as a little mutual interest in music sprinkled in with morbid curiosity on Kyungsoo’s behalf. 4 months later they’re still at it, and Kyungsoo has to finally admit that there might be something more between them now.
Sure, they see each other once in a while and Kyungsoo cooks for the two of them. They hold hands, kiss sometimes, but it never goes any further than that. Even when Chanyeol coils himself around Kyungsoo, warming him up like a well worn sweater, inevitably one of them will pull back.
Sometimes it’s Chanyeol who pulls back with a flush across his face, shuffling back and forth in discomfort. More often, it’s Kyungsoo who just plainly isn’t in the mood for it. Chanyeol never objects though and it makes everything between them simple.
Chanyeol comes over to Kyungsoo’s apartment, Kyungsoo cooks and then they eat.
Kyungsoo likes that though. (Chanyeol, as it turned out, had a voracious appetite and who was Kyungsoo to deny him a good meal?)
It’s not often that the two of them get to hang out like this on a week night, so Kyungsoo isn’t going to complain about Chanyeol abusing his work rules to sneak in time for the two of them. It’s not technically breaking the rules, they were more like-
“Floating holidays,” Chanyeol explains, casually curling an arm around Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo fixes him with a look.
“Floating holidays,” he echoes doubtfully. Just this past week Chanyeol has floated two days and that didn’t even include his ‘work from home’ day on Wednesday.
“I called in sick for the other day,” he explains with a chuckle and Kyungsoo shakes his head, looking away to hide a smile. Chanyeol misinterprets his action as dismissal.
“It was for you though,” Chanyeol whines and Kyungsoo placates him with a kiss. Their kisses starts slow, they always do, but soon enough Chanyeol tries pushing against him to get a better angle in. He braces himself against Kyungsoo, using his height to slowly tip Kyungsoo’s head back, but Kyungsoo already has his hand threaded through Chanyeol’s hair, pulling him back.
“Down boy,” Kyungsoo scolds, eyes flicking over to check the time. It’s already late, far later than Chanyeol has ever stayed before and Chanyeol good-humoredly lets Kyungsoo push him off.
“You should go home soon,” Kyungsoo suggests, and Chanyeol visibly deflates. “Go on,” Kyungsoo says, nudging at him with his foot, “Go to work tomorrow for once.”
Chanyeol trudges up to the door, still looking dejected. He shuffles around in his house slippers that are a permanent fixture in Kyungsoo’s apartment, although he can’t remember since when.
“I’ll be here tomorrow so stop looking at me like that,” Kyungsoo says and Chanyeol brightens up a little.
“I’ll be home soon,” Chanyeol says, spreading his arms open. It’s an open invitation for a hug and Kyungsoo finds himself, leaning forward easily. They slot into each other seamlessly and Kyungsoo thinks of the way bones fit together- a ball and socket joint effortlessly sliding together.
“Stop floating your damn holidays away,” he scolds into Chanyeol’s shoulder, but Chanyeol shrugs, pressing a light kiss to the corner of his mouth and promises that they’ll go somewhere nice.
The meal for two on the table goes cold the next day by the time Kyungsoo finally decides that Chanyeol isn’t going to show up.
It leaves an irrational fear scratching at every waking moment, which Kyungsoo knows is ridiculous. What he and Chanyeol have isn’t anywhere near a routine and the absence of Chanyeol beside him on the couch shouldn’t bother Kyungsoo as much as it really does.
Kyungsoo doesn’t miss Chanyeol per say. It’s the implication that Chanyeol is avoiding him that makes him far uneasier than he ever wants to feel, and it leaves Kyungsoo tracing back through his every action, looking for a moment that might have triggered Chanyeol’s disappearance.
Was it the freezer or maybe the strange taste of meat the night before, but Kyungsoo knows better than to think himself into blank paranoia.
Kyungsoo has never been caught, not by Jongin, Hyunsik, or even Ryeowook. Thinking back to Chanyeol excitedly kick off his shoes and make his way into the dining room the first time he came over, he knows it won’t be by Chanyeol either.
The sun bleeds into the sky and then rises again, but Chanyeol doesn’t come over for the next two nights either and it leaves a gnawing sensation in Kyungsoo’s chest. Like nails hovering over a chalkboard, it’s not unbearable yet, but the promised outcome will be.
The entire weekend passes and Kyungsoo spends his evenings alone, eating alone outside on his balcony. The moon is bright, blinding almost in its fullness as Kyungsoo scans the streets below. He sets his fork down on the empty plate, thinking that it might be time to finally hunt again when the doorbell rings.
It’s Chanyeol, staggering towards him the dark: long limbs uncoordinated and shaking.
Any relief that Kyungsoo feels evaporates the moment he opens the door and sees Chanyeol standing an arm’s length away, murmuring to himself. There’s something dark on the floor and when Kyungsoo reaches to flick on the light in the corridor to get a better look, Chanyeol moves at an inhuman speed, snatching his wrist to stop him.
“I need to talk to you about something,” Chanyeol whispers and it takes Kyungsoo a second to register the blood dripping down his face. Chanyeol’s eyes are crazed, flicker back and forth between Kyungsoo, the door and the stairwell he came up from.
“Come on in then,” Kyungsoo says, watching him intently. The apartments here are closely spaced, close enough for any nosy neighbor to peek their head in right now and hear their conversation.
Chanyeol nods, looking relieved. He shuffles into the apartment nervously and in better lighting, Kyungsoo realizes that the rest of Chanyeol is practically clean. Chanyeol doesn’t seem injured and somehow that makes the blood on his face looks faker- brown and crusted, flaking off on some parts.
“Just promise me you’ll hear me out until I’m done explaining,” he says softly and that catches Kyungsoo’s attention.
“Of course,” Kyungsoo promises. He links his fingers with Chanyeol’s, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “Whatever you need. Just let me get you some water first.”
Chanyeol shudders as Kyungsoo brings a hand up slowly to stroke down his cheek. He brushes a thumb down to wipe the drying blood away and Chanyeol positively growls. Kyungsoo takes a quick step back, but the damage is already done.
“No,” Chanyeol says sharply, “sit down. Stay where you are.”
Kyungsoo freezes, eyes wide and Chanyeol bites at his lip reproachfully.
“I’m sorry just. Stay where you are please.” He pleads and Kyungsoo takesa seat on the stool, folding his hands in front of him.
In the back of his mind there’s chaos that Kyungsoo has never felt before. It’s panic, sheer unadulterated panic pushing against his chest when Chanyeol staggers forward, a crazed look in his eyes.
“I always knew there was something off,” he mumbles and Kyungsoo’s fingers tighten, shaking under the weight of Chanyeol’s implication.
When did he find the jars in the fridge? Did he already know? Why was he bleeding…was it even his blood? He couldn’t know, He shouldn’t know.
Kyungsoo looks over to the gleaming knife still sitting idly on the cutting board and thinks it’ll be okay because by the end of the night, Chanyeol won’t know.
Kyungsoo rises slowly, making his movements as slow as possible as Chanyeol sinks to the ground, fingers knotted in his own matted, bloody hair. He looks up suddenly, freezing Kyungsoo with his gaze.
“I think I killed someone,” Chanyeol says hollowly and when he looks up, Kyungsoo sees a flash of yellow, a set of gleaming fangs, and wonders why he didn’t realize it sooner. The fear in his stomach instantly morphs into anticipation, a tickling sensation of wonder and curiosity.
“Let me see,” Kyungsoo replies finally, blood thrumming with excitement and Chanyeol looks horrified.
Chanyeol drags the dead body into the house the same time Kyungsoo removes every secret in his fridge. The liver, the lungs, Hyungsik’s ring finger. He holds nothing back because if Chanyeol is willing to clean his skeletons out of the closet with a freshly dead body, it’s only fair for Kyungsoo to do the same.
All the jars and unlabeled containers are sitting out in the open on top of the kitchen island, when Chanyeol staggers back in. The body hits the ground with a sickening crunch, splattering the tiles with cooling blood as Chanyeol stands back in horror. He gives a small laugh, full of disbelief and defeat, and slides down to sit on the floor.
“God what did I do?” Chanyeol moans into his arms and Kyungsoo tries to pull him up. Chanyeol shakes in his hold like the ground beneath him is unstable. Kyungsoo looks over to the body and lets out a low whistle. It’s not a pleasant sight.
The body (if you could even still call it that) looks no more than a rump of meat with tatters of clothes glued to it with blood. There’s a limb, maybe an arm that’s been twisted out of shape and the skull looks like it had been cleanly bashed in. There are grave claw marks, slashed down one side of the body and if Kyungsoo peers carefully enough he can see the whites of the rib, peeking out. Looking at Chanyeol in comparison, Kyungsoo is impressed that there isn’t more blood on him.
“Look at me,” he commands softly and Chanyeol stiffens, back arching up. “Look at me Chanyeol.”
Chanyeol looks up slowly, eyes watery. He looks positively green, a strange contrast to the bloodlust barely contained in his eyes. The yellow in his eyes flickers back and forth, disappearing and reappearing under Kyungsoo’s scrutiny.
Kyungsoo leans down, steeling a breath.
Slowly, but with steady hands Kyungsoo hands him a jar with fingers in it. Even in the stark kitchen lighting, he can make out Hyunsik’s finger, its nail having grown post-mortem, scratching against the edge of the glass.
There’s something unmistakably and horrifyingly human about hands. With a heart or lungs, Chanyeol could easily delude himself into thinking that this is all an elaborate prank, but Kyungsoo wants no misunderstandings between them. If Chanyeol’s secret is already on laid bare on the tiles in the form of a cooling, thoroughly mutilated body then Kyungsoo’s deserves at least this.
“Well,” Chanyeol says. He swishes the jar back and forth in his hands, mouth twisting as the fingers float up and sink back down. He looks thoroughly disgusted, but amused all the same- eyeing Kyungsoo with reverence that sends shivers down Kyungsoo’s back.
The sloshing of the liquid inside the jar is the only sound in the kitchen for a few moments. Finally, Chanyeol turns away slightly, giving the fridge another careful peek. “Well damn.”
Kyungsoo’s first meal had been a boy named Jongin and Kyungsoo tells Chanyeol just as much.
He was a dancer, promising and talented, and utterly charmed by Kyungsoo’s work.
“Tell me what this means,” Jongin asked, eyes sparking in curiosity one afternoon. He had pointed at Kyungsoo’s hand drawn diagram of a heart and the labels upon it. It was an old drawing, done back in Kyungsoo’s first semester in college, but it was still flattering that Jongin thought the world of it.
“It’s a heart and the aortic arch, bursting open,” Kyungsoo said, humoring him with a small smile. “When your heart stops there’s a saying that the arch tries so hard to bring itself back that it sometimes bursts.”
Jongin’s eyes went wide. “Really?”
“Really,” Kyungsoo confirmed and the mock-sombre note in his voice is enough to finally tip Jongin off.
“Wow quit messing with me hyung,” Jongin whined, swinging his arm around Kyungsoo’s shoulder warmly. Kyungsoo locked their fingers together and simply smiled. No promises, no apologies, but it was enough.
6 months later, when car crash stopped Jongin’s heart permanently and his hands went ice cold, Kyungsoo went to the morgue to pay his respects. His medical license had come in handy before, but never like this.
Jongin’s heart stewed wonderfully, bubbling together with the creamy tomato base and oregano sprinkled on top. Kyungsoo watched amused as Jongin’s heart burst under the heat, aortic arch rupturing into pieces, and wondered if it was out of love. For a second, Kyungsoo allowed himself to miss Jongin- miss his easy laughter and demure smiles, tucked behind stage confidence.
The loneliness didn’t last long though, because by supper Jongin was back with him, forever.
Chanyeol listens attentively for the most part, occasionally making gross faces at Kyungsoo’s descriptions. His eyes darken in anger at every mention of Kyungsoo’s lovers and Kyungsoo can see flickers of yellow as he mentions Jongin.
“Did you never guess?” Kyungsoo asks, watching Chanyeol’s expressions carefully. Chanyeol’s nose wrinkles at the smell of formaldehyde and quickly screws the lid over the jar’s grizzly contents.
“Never,” Chanyeol admits. “They way you cooked always smelled weird, but I’ve never tasted it, I mean. I’ve never had human before tonight.”
“No,” Kyungsoo replies, steading his gaze to face Chanyeol head on, “but that’s where you’re wrong.”
Chanyeol’s eyes are wide, still in shock as Kyungsoo takes the jar from him, and unscrews the lid to remove the only body part he had ever been overly sentimental enough to keep preserved.
“Lim Hyunsik,” he addresses and Chanyeol lets out the breath he’s holding as he takes the soggy finger into his hand, giving it an experimental pinch. It’s a wonder to Kyungsoo that the flesh has managed to stay intact all this time, but he supposes that’s the power of preservatives.
“He asked me to marry him,” Kyungsoo says softly, nostalgia sweeping over his senses. “I tried to explain to him why we couldn’t and he didn’t take it very well.”
“I see,” Chanyeol says simply, squeezing the finger in his hands. There’s new respect in his eyes in addition to an emotion Kyungsoo can’t put his finger on as Chanyeol hands him Hyunsik’s. The bloodlust in his gaze has morphed into something deeper, if Kyungsoo didn’t know any better he would have called it devotion.
“What’s the name of the guy over there?” Kyungsoo whispers softly into Chanyeol’s ear. The strands of hair around his temple brush against Kyungsoo’s cheek as Chanyeol holds him tightly chanting back: “I don’t know. I don’t know. It all happened so quickly. I don’t know”
How crude, Kyungsoo thinks, but he links his fingers with Chanyeol to bring him standing over by the corpse. There isn’t much left that’s recognizable and Kyungsoo observes in wonder at the degree Chanyeol had mauled the poor bastard.
“Bon appetite?” Kyungsoo teases and the sick horror that has been on Chanyeol’s face since Kyungsoo emptied the contents of the fridge before his eyes morphs into raw hunger.
Kyungsoo, in all his years of eating finer delicacies, has never been so excited to feast.
They cook until the morning, flaying the skin from the meat takes hours and by the time the sun as filled the kitchen window, they’ve packed almost everything away into small freezer bags. Chanyeol watches for the most part, helping tease the skin back and holding the bags open as Kyungsoo slices down to the bone to pick out the juiciest portions of meet.
With about half of the meat cleaned, Kyungsoo runs into a slight problem. The man’s arm is mostly gone, already gnawed down and missing chunks of flesh. Chanyeol looks apologetic as Kyungsoo holds it up with a disdainful look. Chanyeol holds his hand out like he’s going to dispose of the ruined meat, but Kyungsoo shakes his head.
“I don’t waste anything,” Kyungsoo replies simply and Chanyeol ducks his head in compliance, yanking the corpse’s arm back and snapping it cleanly in two. He hands the cleaner half to Kyungsoo who accepts it with a smile. It’s almost cute the way Chanyeol is insecure about his hunting techniques and if Kyungsoo is honest he prefers a swift and painless death to his victims, but it’s Chanyeol’s first time and he’ll get better as they go.
They eat the heart first, mostly because it’s Kyungsoo’s favorite and Chanyeol in particular seems to take a keen interest in how it tastes. They broil it in a clear broth, watching the contents of the pot turn progressively pink like some corny love potion as the heart itself turns a dull, ugly grey color: the color of cooked meat.
Chanyeol helps him wipe the counter clean as Kyungsoo sets up the plates. If not for the drying blood on the tiles and the contents on the stove, it would have just been like any other date evening between them. Kyungsoo slices into the heart, letting the juices wet the knife, and watches the hunger consume Chanyeol’s features.
“I’d let you eat my heart if you want,” Chanyeol teases playfully and Kyungsoo is glad to hear that he’s compartmentalizing well enough to light of their situation. Nevertheless, Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow over his wine glass.
“That’s gross, Chanyeol,” he replies, “I thought we agreed not to talk about such uncouth topics at the dining table.”
“Of course,” Chanyeol agrees and raises his glass of orange juice in a mock toast. “To the chef who stole my heart through my stomach with another man’s heart.”
“Please shut up,” Kyungsoo laughs, but he raises his glass to meet Chanyeol’s with a cling.
Life slowly returns to normal for the most part and aside from the extra pounds of meat in the freezer, there’s nothing that remains of the other night. The police send out a missing person report and Kyungsoo takes care to remove all missing posters near his apartment in case Chanyeol sees. They tread carefully for a few weeks, barely daring to breathe. On the positive side, Chanyeol returns to work and frequents Kyungsoo’s apartment like a second home once again.
Along with the slow fade of the moon, the wolf in him subsides to give way back to playful Chanyeol who no longer snarls when Kyungsoo tells him to eat with utensils properly or hungers for the bundles of raw meat in the fridge. He’s become much more comfortable around Kyungsoo’s side, cuddling against him as Kyungsoo asks him questions about his wolf one evening.
“He wants to do a lot of things,” Chanyeol says, chewing on his lip unconsciously, “but normally I don’t let him. I don’t know why that happened that night.”
There’s an unasked question hanging in the air and Kyungsoo has been curious from the very beginning.
“Were you maybe trying to fuck him?” Kyungsoo poses seriously. “That man the other night, did you try and fuck him or did you actually mean to eat him?” Chanyeol ducks his head away in shame.
“I don’t know,” he admits finally, resting his head against Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “I don’t know what the wolf wanted to do to him. I just knew I needed him.”
The words don’t sit well with Kyungsoo at all and he turns to face Chanyeol, sliding in closer until they’re only a finger’s length away.
“Stop it then,” Kyungsoo says coldly. “If you need anything, come to me.”
Chanyeol’s eyes go wide at that and at this distance Kyungsoo can see the greed in his eyes, the bright yellow of the wolf flickering behind Chanyeol’s normal brown.
“I can’t do that though,” Chanyeol says softly, “he’s going to hurt you. Didn’t you see what I did to that guy?”
“Didn’t you see what I did to him?” Kyungsoo shoots back when Chanyeol retreats back into complacency. It’s been almost two weeks since the murder, but Kyungsoo wants to make sure he didn’t empty out his fridge in vain. Chanyeol can’t treat him like things are back to the way they were before.
“It’s not the same,” Chanyeol reasons, but Kyungsoo shoots him down with a determined look. “I wasn’t in control. I didn’t want to do that.”
“But do you want this?” Kyungsoo asks, hooking his finger into the waistband of Chanyeol’s jeans. He slides his hand down further to rest on Chanyeol’s thigh, not pressing down or teasing, just simply putting it there.
“I do. Of course I do,” Chanyeol reassures him, eyes wide and pleading. “But I just don’t think I can control him when it gets to that point.”
“Well then let’s start slow,” Kyungsoo offers. “Build up bit by bit and,” he pauses, pressing his lips up to Chanyeol’s. Their lips barely brush but Chanyeol reacts immediately. He surges forward but Kyungsoo is faster, pulling back with a coy tilt of his head.
“And we’ll go from there,” he finishes, watching Chanyeol’s breaths become more labored.
“I’m never letting you suck my dick, just so you know,” Chanyeol adds, but the way his eyes linger on Kyungsoo’s lips tells another story. There’s a look that Chanyeol gets in his eyes sometimes, like he wants to eat Kyungsoo whole, wants to devour him inch by inch, organ by organ until every bit of Kyungsoo is with him forever. Or it might just be Kyungsoo projecting.
“Oh really,” Kyungsoo replies pursing his lips and biting them a pretty red. Chanyeol swallows hard, placing his hands on Kyungsoo’s shoulders. Kyungsoo doesn’t need him to push down, before he’s on his knees, arms hugging the back of Chanyeol’s knees.
“What do you want?” he asks softly, nosing across Chanyeol’s crotch and feeling him harden beneath the rough jeans. He runs his cheek against the fabric, watching Chanyeol’s eyes burn darker, and darker.
“I want you,” he says and he’s looking at Kyungsoo in that way of his that makes Kyungsoo feel like he could do this forever. His pupils are blown, dark with lust but Kyungsoo can still see the slivers of yellow shining through.
He mouths against the length of Chanyeol’s dick feeling it strain against the fabric.
“Please don’t bite,” Chanyeol teases running a hand through Kyungsoo’s hair, and Kyungsoo roll his eyes, feeling mildly annoyed. He lets out a breath, feeling Chanyeol shiver.
“If you don’t want me to,” Kyungsoo says, starting to pull away, but Chanyeol’s arms are back down on his shoulders in an instant, forceful and unexpected.
“Please,” he groans and Kyungsoo dutifully unzips him. He watches Chanyeol’s dick curiously as he gives it a few pumps and right when Chanyeol’s nerves are about to give out, right when he opens his mouth to either demand more or pull back completely Kyungsoo doesn’t know, Kyungsoo swallows him down whole.
Not like that of course, but it doesn’t stop Chanyeol from tearing the couch to shreds regardless.
Unconsciously, Kyungsoo has been keeping track of the moon on his daily calendar and with it signs that Chanyeol will be ready to hunt again. The fridge however, still has an admirable amount of meat and Kyungsoo wonders idly if there’s even a need to hunt this time.
True to the calendar, Chanyeol is nearing his transformation stage- growing restless with a feral look in his eyes as the moon draws closer to full. He comes home the night before the full moon, sleeves torn and eyes wild.
“I can’t take this,” he groans, eyes meeting Kyungsoo in desperation. “He wants out.”
“It’s okay,” Kyungsoo says calmly. It’s the most he can do with Chanyeol pacing back and forth like a mad dog, nearly frothing at the mouth.
“It’s not,” Chanyeol keens and his fingers dig harder into his other arm, drawing blood. It bleeds through his sleeve, staining the edges of the already torn up cloth. “I can’t hold him back. He’s too strong.”
“Then don’t,” Kyungsoo suggests and Chanyeol goes stock still.
“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol says slowly, and there’s so much utter want in his voice that it makes Kyungsoo breathless. Chanyeol flexes his arm, fingertips stained red as he raises his arm out. He takes a step towards Kyungsoo stumbling forwards like he’s in a trance.
Kyungsoo holds his breath in anticipation, but Chanyeol snaps out of it and dashes into the other room, curling onto the ground. Kyungsoo follows him patiently, taking a seat on the bed as Chanyeol shakes on the floor, sinking his teeth into the carpet helplessly.
“You can do this,” Kyungsoo says, smoothing the sheets on the bed down with a hand.
“I don’t know,” Chanyeol moans from beneath his arm. His face is flushed, a pleasant red color that makes Kyungsoo want to kiss him.
“Would you prefer for me to leave you alone then?” Kyungsoo asks. He’s full of curiosity: how much of this push and pull he can play with until Chanyeol’s wolf breaks loose.
“I…fuck,” Chanyeol groans. Kyungsoo makes a cautious step towards him and Chanyeol whirls around to push Kyungsoo back onto the bed.
“Stay away,” Chanyeol growls, clawing at his own chest- wild and angry. “I don’t want to-“
“But you do,” Kyungsoo taunts, spreading his legs and watching Chanyeol’s fingers dig into his palms as he clenches his fist down. Blood drips from his palms, trickling past his knuckles onto the carpet.
“You don’t know what he can do,” Chanyeol says desperately, eyes flickering rapidly between warm brown and harsh yellow. “He could kill you.”
“But you won’t,” Kyungsoo says and Chanyeol lets out the breath he’s holding. The fear in his eyes have settled and Kyungsoo takes the last step between them.
“You won’t so come over here and fuck me,” Kyungsoo growls and the hunger in Chanyeol’s eyes is real.
Chanyeol drops everything so fast, so eagerly that it makes Kyungsoo ache. It burns him from head to toe, flooding through his system like venom. Chanyeol presses up against him and even from a distance, Kyungsoo can feel the heat radiating off his skin, burning feverishly like a wildfire through a forest of restraint.
Chanyeol crashes his lips down and Kyungsoo feels his lips tear from the impact even before Chanyeol opens his mouth to sink his fangs in them. There’s blood dripping down his chin and Chanyeol looks crazed with lust, humping Kyungsoo’s leg frantically as he struggles to pull Kyungsoo’s jeans off.
“Let me taste you,” Chanyeol groans and something in Kyungsoo’s chest positively churns.
The thought of Chanyeol’s teeth clamping down on his shoulder, tearing in to reveal vibrant blood, a network of muscles and veins, Kyungsoo alive and writhing underneath. Chanyeol could eat him down to the bone, until there was nothing left, but marrow and hollow bones, rattling against the bed frame.
“God yes,” Kyungsoo breaths and Chanyeol sinks his teeth in, just enough to leave marks, but not tear. It’s a controlled effort, one that takes all of Chanyeol’s willpower because Kyungsoo is soft, pliant and nothing more than a toothpick between his arms. Chanyeol during the full moon could bend steel with minimal effort and in comparison Kyungsoo’s spine, a thin bridge of 26 bones protecting a fragile bundle of previous nerves, is nothing.
He yanks Kyungsoo’s pants off the same time Kyungsoo unbuttons the top of Chanyeol’s shirt and pulls his calmly over the top of his head.
“Slow down,” he hushes, pressing his palm against Chanyeol’s forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Chanyeol shudders, breaths short and frantic as Kyungsoo talks to him softly.
“You don’t have to chase,” he says, over and over again as Chanyeol presses their cheeks together and works his fingers into Kyungsoo. “I’m right here.”
The lube on Chanyeol’s fingers is cold, but not in an unpleasant way. Chanyeol himself is a raging fire, burning to the touch and just as unpredictable. He preps Kyungsoo roughly, franticly stretching him out with his fingers and Kyungsoo grits his teeth when Chanyeol slides in all three at once.
Chanyeol must hear his wince, because he pulls his fingers out with a pop and pulls back to press a light kiss to Kyungsoo’s hip in apology. Kyungsoo shakes his head, lifting his hips in response to the emptiness and Chanyeol starts again, slowly with two fingers, scissoring Kyungsoo open so tenderly that Kyungsoo has to start biting back his moans. This time when Chanyeol holds his hip steady and slides three fingers in, Kyungsoo takes it easily, letting out a satisfied sigh. Chanyeol’s eyes gleam in anticipation and Kyungsoo forces himself to relax.
He takes a moment to detach himself from Kyungsoo and slip his pants to the floor. Kyungsoo raises himself to his elbows, touching his split lip gingerly and watches Chanyeol stalk his every movement. Chanyeol clammers back on the bed, hands tracing down Kyungsoo’s side to handle his thighs apart. Kyungsoo sucks in a breath and Chanyeol looks at him, straight on. He enters Kyungsoo with a grunt, nearly howling in pleasure as Kyungsoo tightens on him against instinctively clenching down against the intrusion.
“Slow down,” Kyungsoo commands breathlessly and Chanyeol goes stone still. It takes a few moments, but Chanyeol waits until Kyungsoo has stopped trembling and slowly starts to move. The rhythm goes erratic almost from the start and Kyungsoo soon realizes that he’s not going to have much of a say as Chanyeol’s eyes begin glowing.
He thrusts into Kyungsoo hard, pinning him down in place and covering his entire body with his own. It’s almost suffocating, the way Chanyeol is covering him like a blanket and fucking him so hard that his breaths catch in time with each thrust. Kyungsoo twists to the side, trying to catch his breath and clear the dizziness but Chanyeol grabs his hair, yanking him back roughly.
Kyungsoo’s back arches up off the bed with a sharp gasp as Chanyeol’s hand tightens. He picks up the pace, practically bouncing Kyungsoo against his dick, fucking him even more vigorously. From this angle, Kyungsoo can’t see anything, but it’s more than enough to feel the burn in his ass as Chanyeol bottoms out and the sting of his scalp as Chanyeol yanks his head back entirely.
“God,” Chanyeol groans. “You look so good right now. So, so good.”
The words make Kyungsoo feel feverish, but not as much as how exposed he feels. His throat is completely bared, an arch of soft cartilage and low moans and Chanyeol takes his time to worship it, licking his way up and sucking bruises against Kyungsoo’s pulse point.
Kyungsoo can’t breathe and the dark spots clouding his vision are countered by the supernatural gleam of Chanyeol’s in the darkness. The sharp yellow track his every movement, scanning across Kyungsoo’s body hungrily like Chanyeol wants to consume every inch of Kyungsoo and then come back for seconds and thirds.
Kyungsoo shivers, still short on breath when Chanyeol suddenly surges upward pulling Kyungsoo’s lower body with him. The new angle has Chanyeol supporting all of Kyungsoo’s weight on his lap and fucking him with downward strokes that send waves of pleasure all the way down Kyungsoo’s spine. His own cock is unbelievably hard, bobbing up and down with each thrust and Chanyeol shoots him a smirk before reaching a hand down to jerk him off.
It takes less than a minute with Chanyeol’s voice coaxing him for Kyungsoo to come, spilling over his stomach. His come pools down onto his chest, leaking everywhere as Chanyeol continues to fuck him through the aftershocks. There’s not even enough air in Kyungsoo’s lungs for a proper moan, and maybe just to be an asshole Chanyeol pushes down against him for a kiss to steal what air is left.
“Again,” Kyungsoo croaks, voice hoarse and demanding when they break apart. He takes in a deep breath as Chanyeol pulls out with a slick pop, rolling Kyungsoo over onto his knees.
They fuck on every surface they can get to, the counter, the couch, on top of the kitchen island. Chanyeol slams into him with unhuman fervor, fucking Kyungsoo so hard it hurts with how utterly good it is. He’s relentless, more machine than human, fucking Kyungsoo with every ounce of animalistic fervor he can muster.
Kyungsoo is barely conscious after the third hour when Chanyeol finally comes with a roar, wrapping his arms around Kyungsoo like a vice as he rides out his orgasm. Kyungsoo winces, feeling his arms bruise under the pressure when an entirely different tightness erupts from inside of him.
Everything feels constricted and for a second Kyungsoo panics. He can’t move though with the way Chanyeol has his arm possessively wrapped around his entire body and all he can do is wait it out, warm and feverish as another wave of come rushes through him. There’s another puddle of cooling come beneath his belly and splashed onto his chest, but Chanyeol just keeps going.
“Just like that,” Chanyeol groans, stroking Kyungsoo’s side and digging his fingers into his hips for a better hold. He jolts up again, feeling a rush of come pulse through him, but Chanyeol forces him back down in place, cheek smushed down against the leather.
Kyungsoo is a panting mess on the couch, face down and knotted, as Chanyeol pats soothing strokes down his back. He’s lost count of how many times he’s come. How many times Chanyeol has come inside of him- coating every inch of his insides and then leaking down out to coat his thighs. There’s cum leaking everywhere that’ll take Kyungsoo forever to clean up, dribbling down the inside of his thigh and onto the leather.
He’s delirious at this point with how full he is, reduced to nothing but a warm hole that can do nothing but lie there and take it as Chanyeol bounces him back onto his cock. The wet sounds of slicked skin against skin fill the room as Kyungsoo tries to even his breathing.
“Just like that,” Chanyeol whispers softly, letting a high whine out as Kyungsoo shifts to accommodate his cramping arms. “God, you’re doing so good. You’re doing so good.”
Kyungsoo nods, half-conscious and delirious with pleasure. The knot is still swelling, getting bigger and bigger-making it hard for Kyungsoo to breathe. Chanyeol rocks again, sudden and harsh and the pain that flares through Kyungsoo is unbearable.
“Chanyeol,” he gasps, arm reaching out blindly as Chanyeol forces him down harder, “Chanyeol wait.” There’s another rush of come and Kyungsoo shivers, feeling overwhelmed when Chanyeol suddenly comes to a complete stop, stilling his hips and barely daring to breathe.
“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol says finally after a few beats of silence, voice broken and fearful. Just like that, the wolf is gone and all that’s left is Chanyeol locked into Kyungsoo, pumping him full of come headfirst into the couch. Kyungsoo feels so full, so sated now that the gnawing hunger in his belly is gone. That red hot need to consume has vanished and for the longest time Kyungsoo sleeps peacefully.
Chanyeol wakes up a few hours later, still hard and frantic. The knot has gone down enough for him to slip out with a wet pop. A trail of come pulses out of Kyungsoo, oozing over the swell of his ass which is warm and red from hard impact with Chanyeol’s hips over and over again. There will be bruises all over Kyungsoo’s back as early as morning and Chanyeol presses a hand against it, watching with a sick sense of accomplishment as his hand print goes white and Kyungsoo shifts in discomfort.
“Are you crazy?” Kyungsoo croaks and it’s mortifying how awful he sounds. The sandpaper in his throat chafes its way down to his stomach, sending waves of pain through him. Chanyeol however seems to like it, sliding his hands eagerly back around Kyungsoo like he hasn’t spent all night touching him already. His hands are warm, pressing into Kyungsoo’s bruised sides and the sensation is pleasant for a brief second, before Kyungsoo remembers what this is all leading back to.
Chanyeol shoves Kyungsoo, half-conscious and fucked out of his senses, up to his knees and everything burns. His lower body feels like it’s been beaten with a blender and his arms feel weak, nearly helpless as Chanyeol pushes him into position with his ass in the air, leaking and waiting to be filled again.
“God,” Chanyeol gasps, brushing the head of his dick back into Kyungsoo’s fucked out ass. The stretch of it aches all over again, but all Kyungsoo can do is groan as Chanyeol holds him open in both hands and the slick trail of come continues to dribble onto the sheets below.
“That’s disgusting,” Kyungsoo whispers, voice too raw to form a sound and Chanyeol leans down to nuzzle into his shoulder, grunting as he mounts Kyungsoo again and again.
Sunlight hits Kyungsoo’s senses before the pain does, but they both do their equal job of waking him up. He shifts gingerly to his side and comes face to face with a still snoozing Chanyeol. From this angle, Chanyeol’s fangs are slightly visible inside his wide-open mouth and Kyungsoo wonders how easy it would be for him to murder Chanyeol for the expanse of bite marks across his shoulder and neck.
He doesn’t of course, but the thought itself is nice enough for Kyungsoo to feel a bit more at ease. He shifts, trying to collect what functional body parts he has left when the motion startles Chanyeol awake.
“What’s going on?” he mumbles sleepily, drool slipping down his chin. Kyungsoo takes one look at him, and hates how utterly fond he feels at the moment. The early light looks good on Chanyeol and even though Kyungsoo isn’t particularly hungry in that moment he wouldn’t hesitate to call Chanyeol delectable.
Chanyeol’s eyes flutter open again like he can feel Kyungsoo’s staring and he shoots Kyungsoo a quizzical look.
“Aren’t you ever afraid that I’ll eat you?” Kyungsoo asks. It’s far too early in the morning for any serious conversation, and Chanyeol accordingly takes it as a joke.
“Did you suddenly develop a taste for wolf or are you just craving more?” Chanyeol asks, nuzzling into Kyungsoo’s neck. His breath is warm and suggestive, ghosting over Kyungsoo’s pulse point. Kyungsoo pulls back, body entirely too sore for another round anytime soon. He twists his head the other direction, a mistake because the minute he bares his throat, Chanyeol latches on. His eyes snap open instantly as he nips at Kyungsoo’s neck, teeth teasing into the soft skin just beside his nape.
“Stop it,” Kyungsoo says and he can feel Chanyeol’s lips drawn back into a snarl before he pulls away. Chanyeol gives him a reproachful gaze, eyes brown and apologetic.
“Do you want me to hunt for you?” he offers instead and Kyungsoo shakes his head. He’s still so full, belly stretch from taking so much of Chanyeol’s come. There won’t be a child, but the way Chanyeol continually runs his hands over Kyungsoo’s slightly swollen stomach makes him wish that there was- that there even could be.
The thought makes him twist uncomfortably under Chanyeol who immediately perks up.
“Am I crushing you?” he asks groggily. His voice is still raw from last night, but the gravel in it makes Kyungsoo want to fuck all over again. God he wants it so badly.
His body decides against it though and he disentangles himself from Chanyeol’s weight, wobbling to his feet. The first step hurts, shooting pain all the way up to Kyungsoo’s spine.
“I’m gonna get some water,” he croaks and makes an effort to pat his hair down back to normalcy. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Chanyeol gazing at him adoringly. He gets up from the bed as well, not nearly as sore as Kyungsoo and follows him to the kitchen like an overgrown puppy.
Kyungsoo knocks back a painkiller with a glass of water and groans. His neck hurts too from being held down for so long and he does his best to convey his pain over to Chanyeol.
“I’m going to eat you someday,” he threatens tonelessly to which Chanyeol scoffs in reply. To his credit, Kyungsoo doesn’t even flinch when Chanyeol wraps his arms around his waist, sneaking up on him from behind.
“I’d eat you first and you know it,” Chanyeol says fondly, like some cheesy romance hero. He runs his hand down Kyungsoo’s slightly swollen stomach, too fond and too protective for Kyungsoo’s tastes. Kyungsoo pulls back a little when Chanyeol’s breath tickles the back of Kyungsoo’s neck, sending warmth across Kyungsoo’s body for reasons he can’t explain.
Kyungsoo pulls a drawer open wordlessly and draws a blade out. Chanyeol in turn looks almost flustered like Kyungsoo just proposed to him on the spot. On second thought, it might as well be the closest thing to a sappy confession from Kyungsoo Chanyeol will ever receive at the rate they’re going.
“You’re gonna need more silver than that,” Chanyeol yawns as he corners Kyungsoo against the cabinets with two quick strides. The blade meets his lips as Chanyeol leans forward with just enough pressure to warn him away but not cut.
“Don’t even think about kissing me before I brush my teeth,” Kyungsoo grumbles and Chanyeol has enough gall to laugh before snatching the blade out of his hand with his teeth and biting through it with a crunch. The stainless steel crumbles inside his mouth easily and Kyungsoo watches as the knife hilt clatters to the floor.
It’s pretty badass for a second before Chanyeol spits out the broken blade out onto the floor, cursing. Blood gushes out of his mouth, a beautiful macabre red dripping down to the spotless tiles below. The cuts are probably already healed, but Kyungsoo can see where the shard scraped the corner of his mouth as Chanyeol turns to him sheepishly.
There’s blood on his lips (in his mouth, in his heart) and Kyungsoo leans forwards without thinking, savoring in the sweet, sweet coppery tang.