Chapter Text
Tonight is one of the rare nights Chanyeol decided to stay in and Baekhyun went out. Usually, Baekhyun is able to weasel out drinking with his boss and colleagues. It’s not acceptable behavior to skip out on such an invitation, at least at Baekhyun’s firm, but Chanyeol assumes he charms his way out of it. During Baekhyun's post-work stress-filled rants, his boss’ favoritism toward him is intense, more than what Chanyeol is comfortable with.
Chanyeol sighs and slumps against the couch. The living area is dimly lit; the light in the kitchen and the television that sits across the room is the only light source. It’s a nice change to just sit at home alone, television on watching everything and nothing and snacking on whatever they had in the cupboards. Work for him was regular just like waiting for Baekhyun to come home is regular—boring even.
The front door chimes and Chanyeol stands up from the couch and stalks to the front door, nearly tripping over his feet. When Baekhyun sent him a text that he’ll be out late because he’s going out with his boss and work friends, Chanyeol told himself that he was going to play it cool. Despite Baekhyun being a happy homebody, Chanyeol thinks it’s good that he goes out other than to work and shopping for groceries with the random lunch dates with his friends in-between.
Chanyeol knew when Baekhyun specified that they’re going out to drink it was a red flag. In the few years they’ve been together, he’s only seen Baekhyun drink occasionally which consisted of a drink here and there. The few times he’s been drunk he was a sloppy mess. However, just like Baekhyun was able to turn down his boss and coworkers’ invitation to go out for dinner nearly every day, he’ll be able to turn down drinks and opt for a soda.
Seeing Baekhyun and a man he recognizes as Jongdae from the pictures Baekhyun has shown him from the various holiday parties at his job, Chanyeol knows that wasn’t the case. Baekhyun is bent over, his arm over Jongdae’s shoulders. Jongdae’s face is red but is in much better form.
“Ah,” Jongdae pushes the door fully open and staggers inside, “Are you Chanyeol?”
Chanyeol stands stupid in the hallway, staring at Baekhyun. His fringe covers his face—his updo ruined, but Chanyeol can see that his ears are incredibly red, and his clothes are in disarray probably from passing out in the taxi ride here.
Chanyeol nods, his eyes wide in concern. He pads over to the threshold and takes Baekhyun from Jongdae.
“Baekhyun, you’re with Chanyeol now.”
Baekhyun hums slumped in Chanyeol’s embrace.
“What happened?” Chanyeol fixes his gaze to the man that’s about Baekhyun’s height. His white dress shirt is unbuttoned revealing his black undershirt but otherwise appearing sober.
Jongdae deadpans. He opens his mouth then closes it. He glances over at Baekhyun, “A lot. A lot happened, but essentially Sooman wouldn’t take his no as an answer, even when he tried to be cute about it, and ended up like this. I knew he was a lightweight, but…”
“Ah.”
“We tried to stop him, but Sooman’s word is the law. I’m somewhat grateful because I finally was able to get out of it too and go home.” He grins sheepishly, “My wife is pregnant, and I don’t like to leave her alone especially since the due date is so close. Usually, that’s enough to let me go, but not today. Not sure how they do this so often.”
Chanyeol attempts to drape Baekhyun’s arm over his shoulder, but the latter whines and opts to be held by his waist, his arms resting on Chanyeol’s shoulders.
“Thank you.” Chanyeol has never met Jongdae and knows nothing about him other than what Baekhyun has shown him and spoke of him, but he’s comforted that Baekhyun has someone to rely on.
Jongdae smiles brightly, his face lighting up, “No problem. Hopefully, he can sleep it off.” He closes the door with a soft click.
Chanyeol is still in the entryway of their apartment. He’s not sure how he’s going to take off his shoes without dropping him as he’s supporting Baekhyun’s weight. Since their apartment is hardwood, he supposes they could just mop up whatever gets tracked inside. He staggers to the living area and sets Baekhyun on the couch as softly as he could. Baekhyun falls over with a huff. Chanyeol’s eyes narrow, in part that getting Baekhyun ready for bed is going to be a hassle if he can’t even stand upright and annoyance at his boss for pushing him to the point he lost his wits. As he unties his loafers, he notices how red and swollen Baekhyun’s face is. His eyes are closed and he burps. He sets the shoes aside, too afraid to leave Baekhyun to his own devices as he could throw up or roll off the couch. He sits Baekhyun up and Baekhyun’s head rolls over into his shoulder, his breath on his neck.
Baekhyun speaks slowly, his words slurring every other word, “I want to see Chanyeol-ie.”
“I’m here.”
“You’re here to pick me up?” His smile is present in his voice.
“We’re at home.”
“Already?”
“…Yeah.”
Baekhyun hums in satisfaction.
Chanyeol continues, “I’m going to put you to bed, but first we’re going to drink some water.”
“No more drinking, please,” Baekhyun slumps against Chanyeol, his head now against his chest.
“Water is going to make you feel better.”
Baekhyun shakes his head, mumbling, “No, I can’t handle it—no more shots.”
Chanyeol is at a loss of what to do as dragging Baekhyun into the kitchen is just an accident waiting to happen. He rolls Baekhyun over onto his stomach.
“Don’t move.”
Baekhyun doesn’t respond, so he assumes he passed out again. He treads into the kitchen and grabs a water bottle from the fridge. He strides back to the couch where Baekhyun hasn’t moved, opens the water bottle, and sits him upright supporting his body weight on his shoulder. He puts the lip of the bottle to Baekhyun’s mouth and thankfully he drinks without any protest. Chanyeol loves Baekhyun, would do anything for him but having to take care of him like this because of something Baekhyun didn’t consent to is pissing him off. He knows this isn’t Baekhyun’s fault as it’s evident he and his other coworkers were pressured into it, but Baekhyun can’t hold his liquor—at all. It should have been evident after the first few shots when he got tipsy and fell apart from there.
Once Baekhyun downed half of the water bottle, Chanyeol places it on the floor, as far away from Baekhyun as he could muster. Baekhyun licks his lips and opens his eyes for the first time. They’re half-mast and exenterate his eye bags.
Chanyeol prods, “Was it good? You can have some more.”
Baekhyun is silent as if he didn’t hear Chanyeol’s question at all. He closes his eyes but doesn’t fall over which Chanyeol takes as a positive sign that he might be sobering up, at least enough to get to bed. That’s short-lived as Baekhyun wraps his arms around Chanyeol’s neck, his lips against the collar of his t-shirt.
“Can I pee?” Baekhyun mumbles.
Chanyeol blinks in confusion. He opens his mouth to retort but is cut off.
“I don’t like holding it in,” He whines and rubs his thighs together.
The situation dawning him, Chanyeol stands, supporting Baekhyun by wrapping an arm around his back with Baekhyun’s arms still holding onto his neck. He slouches to the bathroom, Baekhyun tripping over himself. He’s not sure just how urgent the situation is, but he’ll rather overreact than have to clean up Baekhyun, himself, and the floor.
“They wouldn’t help me,” Baekhyun slurs, whatever sobriety Chanyeol thought he had is thrown out the window, “I can’t stand. I couldn’t do it myself.”
Chanyeol is livid, but he decides he’ll rant and simmer in his anger after he gets Baekhyun settled, hydrated, and to bed. Now at the bathroom, he presses the button near the entryway to turn on the light and moves them to the toilet.
“I want to pee, Chanyeol-ie,” Baekhyun moans softly.
His first instinct is to strip him, put him in the shower, and leave him to his own devices, the next is to hold him upright in front of the toilet while he takes care of himself but Baekhyun is right, he can’t stand. More so, he doubts Baekhyun could aim properly. He blushes in embarrassment at the thought of holding him up and keeping him still—no matter how many times he’s seen his dick and touched it. And mainly, he’s not confident he could do both without it going horribly wrong. With his free hand, and with much difficulty, he puts the seat down and undoes Baekhyun’s belt.
“Baekhyun, help me,” Chanyeol breathes, his face and ears hot. He kind of wants to tease him about this once he sobers up because objectively, this situation is actually pretty funny, but another doesn’t want to ever speak about this ever again.
Baekhyun whines, “I can’t hold it in.”
Panic, pure panic runs through Chanyeol’s body. His hands shake from adrenaline, his heart beating in his ears as he finally undoes Baekhyun’s belt and pants. He pulls them down to mid-thigh and places him on the toilet as quickly but gently as possible. He stands on his knees to hold him upright. He pushes his soft dick down between his legs toward the bowl to avoid Baekhyun accidentally giving him a golden shower. Baekhyun holds onto him and breathes heavily, his lips against Chanyeol’s neck. He wiggles on the toilet seat.
“Chanyeol-ie,” Baekhyun moans, suddenly more desperate.
Baekhyun’s breaths are warm against his neck and the small sounds he’s making has his groin growing tight. While Baekhyun continues to moan and whine—not peeing—Chanyeol’s eyes widen. He grips Baekhyun’s hips to keep him still which only causes him to hiccup even more.
He’s getting turned on.
The situation went from annoying to better to catastrophic to something so much worse than he could even imagine. Baekhyun is making the same sounds as he does when they have sex, so he’s assuming that’s setting him off as being forced into this situation is not something he’ll like to do again—hell he wishes he could be blackout drunk and forget this entire night happened. Baekhyun doesn’t understand the power he holds.
Baekhyun pants and arches his back, something that has Chanyeol panicking, again.
“Don’t move.” Chanyeol inwardly chastises himself at how erotic he finds this situation. He doesn’t understand why he’s enjoying this and why he doesn’t want this situation to end. His dick throbs and his blood is pumping in excitement, whatever anxiety he had about this melting away. Perhaps if Baekhyun wasn’t drunk and they both—
Baekhyun gasps in quick succession as if he’s about to orgasm, his hands gripping his upper back, nails biting into the fabric of his shirt which creates a dull ache. Chanyeol is at full mast, his sweatpants uncomfortably tight. He has the urge to stick his hand down his pants and hates himself for it. Despite his grip on his hips keeping him still, Baekhyun’s pushes his legs together and squirms. Chanyeol’s groin grows tight—why did it sound like Baekhyun is about to cum? And why did he have to revel in it so much? So much so Chanyeol is confident he’ll be haunted by this for the rest of his life, and he won’t walk away as the same person thereafter.
Baekhyun’s body tenses, “It’s going to come out.”
Chanyeol closes his eyes and pants alongside Baekhyun. His body is on fire and he’s tense to the point his entire body hurts from his current position. He pushes his thighs together to gain some sort of relief. Baekhyun’s pants turn into moans until he gasps. He shivers and then Chanyeol hears a faint tinkling sound. The sound grows stronger and the tension in Baekhyun’s body eases with an exhale. He drops his head low, his hands finding purchase on Chanyeol’s shoulders and grips them as he releases soft has, out of breath.
Chanyeol's eyes are wide again. One, he almost came while Baekhyun was struggling with controlling his bladder. Two, he fears he won’t be able to have sex with Baekhyun ever again without being brought back to this place as the Baekhyun who wants to cum is the same Baekhyun who needs to pee. Three, he’s still hard as hell and really really needs to do something about it. However, from personal experience, he knows drunk pees tend to go on forever. He and Baekhyun are probably going to be in this embrace for a while. And since he still has some decency, he won’t take of himself until he’s alone.
Baekhyun moans under his breath as the velocity of his pee hitting the bowl grows in intensity. Chanyeol looks away, opting to stare at the shower, observing the various body washes and shampoos they had behind the glass door. He’s embarrassed and he doesn’t want to be here, but at the same time wants to be here, but also knows he’s going to find himself here time and time again because it’s going to linger in the corners of his mind.
“Hey, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol starts quietly, “How much did you have to drink?”
Baekhyun moans dejectedly, “Three...”
Chanyeol blinks in confusion. Three shots?
“Bottles,” Baekhyun finishes.
“In a couple of hours?”
Baekhyun hums. Chanyeol is wide-eyed as he tries to process that information. He’s surprised he’s coherent at all, let alone not throwing up to the point he dry heaves. It’s either he was an absolute mess at whatever bar or restaurant they were at and sobered up on the taxi ride here, or Baekhyun is really putting up a front.
Baekhyun’s stream tapers off to a slight tinkle until it stops. Whatever tension he had left in his body flows out of him with a sigh. His shoulders are hunched, and his fringe hides his face.
“Are…Are you done?” Chanyeol questions quietly.
Baekhyun doesn’t reply. Chanyeol waits a few moments to see if he’ll start up again. At the prolonged silence, he slides between his thighs and lifts Baekhyun’s head. He’s asleep. His eyelashes flutter above the curve of his cheekbones. His face is red, and his eyes and mouth are wet. His hair is in disarray, the updo he spent twenty minutes perfecting in the mirror earlier this morning, as he had a presentation for work, is ruined.
Chanyeol exhales and leans his head back, “Fuck.”
Chanyeol was able to get Baekhyun to drink the rest of his water bottle without any protest. He constantly asked Baekhyun if he needed the toilet again while he dressed in him a t-shirt and pajama pants because, once he left the room, he wasn’t coming back for at least ten or so minutes. The last thing he needed was to return to a wet bed.
Chanyeol lies Baekhyun on his stomach. He points to a full water bottle on the nightstand, “Try to drink the rest of this, okay?” Baekhyun hums and curls into the blanket, eyes closed. Chanyeol continues, “If you need to throw up, I placed a trash can right here.” He lifts the small trash can that he took from the corner of the room. Baekhyun’s eyes are closed and he doesn’t respond.
Chanyeol stands and watches Baekhyun for a few moments. He’s equal parts guilty for taking any type of pleasure from Baekhyun’s near accident as well as giddy since he’s finally about to deal with the ache between his legs. Thankfully, Baekhyun is out of his wits so he didn’t notice the tent in his sweats as he cleaned him up and dressed him.
He knows he shouldn’t have gotten turned on by something as basic as a human bodily function. Sober Baekhyun doesn’t have a concept of boundaries as Chanyeol has stepped out the shower and there was Baekhyun on the toilet laughing nervously only to keep doing it. Or the several times he has brushed his teeth before work and Baekhyun pads in, lifts the toilet seat, pulls himself through his pants, and relieves himself without even acknowledging Chanyeol until it’s time to wash his hands. Why this time—today pulled such a response out of him he’ll never know.
Once it’s evident that Baekhyun is dead to the world, Chanyeol strides to the bathroom and closes the door a lot louder than what he’s proud of. He leans against the door with a thud and pulls his sweats and boxers down to mid-thigh. He grasps his half-erect dick and jerks himself, a sigh leaving his mouth now that simmering shots of pleasure replaces the dull ache that came in waves. He watches as his dick turns pink and grows until he’s hard as a rock. Gasping, he works on himself seriously, his arm burning from the action. He bites his lips when a moan tries to escape past his throat. He waddles to the toilet, puts the seat down, and sits on the lid. With the precum that leaks from the head, he uses it as lube to help make the slide smoother. He closes his eyes and thinks about the last time they had sex. Baekhyun was below him, arms gripping his back from under his armpits, head thrown back. He remembers how warm Baekhyun’s body was and his filthy cries of pleasure. Chanyeol attempts to match the same tempo he had back then so each stroke of his dick matched with Baekhyun’s moans.
Chanyeol breathes heavily and curses under his breath. He fucks into his hand to increase that spread of pleasure that courses through his limbs and ultimately tips him over the edge. He moans Baekhyun’s name softly, no longer biting his lip. His free hand stabilizes himself on the nearby counter as his thrusts increase in speed. He pants as his current fantasy melts away and it’s he and Baekhyun embraced on the toilet again. Baekhyun moans against his neck and squirms. He groans and grips him through his shirt. This Baekhyun pleads to let him relieve himself instead of cum. The movement of his hips increases until no matter how hard fantasy Chanyeol tried he couldn’t keep fantasy Baekhyun still. Moans of I don’t want to hold it in anymore and It’s about to come out has Chanyeol gasping audibly.
Chanyeol’s grip on the counter intensifies and the smack of his hand jerking himself off only spurs him to go faster. The tension in his groin is wound tight, a spring that is pulled back farther and farther and farther.
“Fuck,” Chanyeol’s head tips back, “I’m going to cum.”
He gasps, out of breath. The weight of his orgasm dawns on him. He moans loudly, something he couldn’t be embarrassed about as he knows he’s about to cum hard.
Fantasy Baekhyun continues to squirm in fantasy Chanyeol’s grasp. He sighs in desperation one final time, his face red and debauched, it’s coming out. Chanyeol feels warmth on his stomach as fantasy Baekhyun cries out in relief. The dam breaks and the coil finally snaps. He cries out as his orgasm hits him like a train. It’s overwhelming and it suffocates him. Pleasure shoots through his limbs and his back bows at the taste of it. He strokes himself through it, each pulse of cum that shoots out of him restarting the entire process. With a gasp, he stills. His dick squirts a final time into his sweats. He’s bent over, breathing heavily. His grip on the counter relaxes and he sits up to calm his breathing. His body experiences aftershocks as his legs tremble. His world stabilizes.
He closes his eyes.
He just masturbated to the idea of Baekhyun peeing on him.
BONUS:
Chanyeol is beyond ashamed. Since the incident, he hasn’t been able to look at himself in the mirror. Not only because he jerked off to Baekhyun giving him a golden shower but that he did it more than once. Thankfully, after Baekhyun threw up a bit and drank more water, when he needed the toilet he was able to go by himself, to Chanyeol’s relief. However, when Baekhyun mumbled about going back to bed, Chanyeol was back in the bathroom reliving that fantasy ten times over. He was so obsessed with the visual he contemplated asking Baekhyun to make this fantasy a reality. He came to terms that he’s a sex fiend of some sort to want something like this as bad as he did, but he isn’t sure how Baekhyun is going to react to it. He knew Baekhyun wouldn’t break up with him, but he’ll probably laugh at him and won’t let him live it down.
“I’m so hungover—Chanyeol-ie,” Baekhyun mumbles curled up in a fetal position, blanket over his head.
Baekhyun called into work, something his boss had no problem with, to Baekhyun’s glee and Chanyeol’s annoyance as this is technically all of his fault. If he just let Baekhyun go home, they could have had dinner together and went to bed like a normal couple. Not even so much as a sorry for ruining his life.
Chanyeol is dressed in a pair of dark blue slacks and a pink button-down dress shirt. He checks the watch on his wrist. He has some time before he has to leave.
“What do you need, Baekhyun-ie?”
“A kiss.”
Since Baekhyun has been throwing up on and off all night, he hasn’t had an opportunity to brush his teeth, but considering the various sins he partook in last night, this is the least he could do for him. Chanyeol climbs on the bed and leans over Baekhyun’s form. The press of their lips is soft and reassures that Baekhyun still loves him and will continue to love him even if he finds out about his kink and how it came about. They part and Baekhyun holds Chanyeol’s jaw.
“I really wanted to do that.”
“Kiss me?”
Baekhyun nods and stares into his eyes. His eyes are red and the bags from last night are even darker and more prominent. His skin is pale and his hand clammy.
“I had a dream that I had an orgasm while on…the toilet? You were there and it felt so realistic. I remember really wanting to kiss you, but it ended there.”
Chanyeol’s face falls in horror, “Is that all you remember?”
Baekhyun nods again, bringing their mouths together for another peck, “Kinda.”
Baekhyun holds Chanyeol’s jaw with both hands and kisses him over and over. His head falls into the pillows and he smiles, “You didn’t touch me—which was weird. I came so hard though.” He pulls Chanyeol down for another kiss before letting him go.
Chanyeol, eyes wide, supports himself on his palms, on the side of Baekhyun’s head and the other toward the middle of the bed.
Baekhyun rolls over, facing the nightstand his back now to Chanyeol. He hides beneath the covers where only a tuff of his dark hair is visible. He muffles, “Hurry home—and turn off the light please.”