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“You know you don’t have to flirt with everyone you serve,” Kyungsoo snaps, pushing past Chanyeol to the other end of the bar. It’s Tuesday and the bar is slow, it’s late enough that Chanyeol is confident they won’t get any more stragglers. The group in the corner the only ones holding out.
Chanyeol barely registers what Kyungsoo says, looking up from the receipt his last customer had left. A phone number had been scribbled at the bottom, alongside a short and direct call me . Chanyeol tucks the receipt into his pocket and turns around. Kyungsoo is watching him, eyebrow raised and Chanyeol feels his neck get warm. Knows Kyungsoo saw the receipt. “It’s how I get my tips.” The receipt in his pocket feels like it’s burning a hole in his pocket.
“I get tips by being competent,” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, turning to the register and away from Chanyeol.
“We can’t all be so talented,” Chanyeol murmurs, turning back to the bar, and watching the group in the corner. Everything with Kyungsoo starts and ends like this.
“Are you so desperate?” Kyungsoo asks, there’s a sharp edge in his voice. It’s meant to hurt and Chanyeol knows he means it. With anyone else it would stick to Chanyeol’s chest, would bury itself deep. With Kyungsoo it feels like a game. It’s the beginning.
“Why are you being such a dick?” Chanyeol says, playing his role. Chanyeol turns back to the bar, pretending to busy himself even though he can feel Kyungsoo watching him.
“You really are a dick,” Chanyeol moans, grinding up to Kyungsoo’s palm. He feels on edge already, so easy under Kyungsoo’s touch even as the wind whips into the car. Kyungsoo takes the curves too quickly and it makes Chanyeol’s stomach drop, heightening everything.
Kyungsoo doesn’t bother answering, and if it wasn’t for the way Kyungsoo presses his palm harshly against Chanyeol’s dick, Chanyeol would have thought Kyungsoo hadn’t heard his words. The roar of the ocean is loud in Chanyeol’s ears. Kyungsoo presses down until it’s too much and Chanyeol wriggles away, his body is still turned towards Kyungsoo but Chanyeol manages to look away. He looks out the window and lets the wind hit his face, he can taste the salt in the air, and he breathes in deeply, trying to center himself. Trying to remember there’s a world somewhere outside this car.
Kyungsoo grips his knee, fingers digging in and moving Chanyeol easily. “Maybe if you weren’t such a slut.” His words are just as mean as before, it goes straight to Chanyeol’s dick, pressing uncomfortably against the zipper of his jeans.
True to Kyungsoo’s words, Chanyeol presses his own hand to his dick, trying to relieve the pressure.
Kyungsoo, despite his eyes being on the dark highway, notices. Or maybe Chanyeol is just predictable, because he says. “Needy.”
Chanyeol rolls his eyes, even though it’s true. He feels so edge. Has felt on edge ever since he slipped the receipt in his pocket.
Ever since Kyungsoo had trained his eyes on him. Way back when he started at the bar at the start of the summer. When Kyungsoo had looked at him with unreadable eyes and had barely spoken to him. Ever since Kyungsoo had pressed him against the backroom door and kissed him like he was a dying man. Ever since Kyungsoo had pressed him into the passenger seat and used Chanyeol’s body like it belonged to Kyungsoo.
He’s been on edge since Chanyeol saw him that very first day and felt his knees shake, when he had leaned against the bar and had offered Kyungsoo a smile. Back when he felt his heart leap and the summer felt endless.
Chanyeol learned quickly. Knows where this is going when Kyungsoo pulls into an empty parking lot. There’s no pageantry or fanfare when Chanyeol trips over the center console as he tries to get into the backseat. He’s too big to do it with any grace, he knows this. But it shows his desperation and he knows it’ll be worth it when Kyungsoo pins him against the backseat.
Like clockwork Kyungsoo does, pushes Chanyeol against the backseat, and Chanyeol winces as his head scrapes against the door. Kyungsoo pets his head in a way Chanyeol would have believed was supposed to be soothing if it wasn’t so rough, Kyungsoo’s pulling on the strands before he lets go.
Chanyeol scoots down and Kyungsoo doesn’t wait, undoing his zipper. They’re in sync as Chanyeol lifts his hips, allows Kyungsoo to undress him. The windows are still open and the waves are too loud. Chanyeol wraps his arms around Kyungsoo’s arm, wishing Kyungsoo would drape himself over him, would weigh him down, would block out all the noise, would kiss him.
Kyungsoo doesn’t. Instead he pulls on Chanyeol’s hair, purposeful, twisting the strands. Chanyeol gasps, stretching with Kyungsoo’s hand, exposing his neck. Kyungsoo’s fingers against his scalp feel like a caress.
Kyungsoo leans forward then, his words are soft, carried with the waves, “Look at you. Begging for it.”
Chanyeol wants to protest, but then Kyungsoo’s teeth dig into his lobe and his eyes flutter close, a small noise falls out his mouth, and he feels shame wash over him. He’s the only one undressed, Kyungsoo toying with him, teasing him, and Chanyeol needs him. “You’re a dick.” What he wants is to beg for it, he wants Kyungsoo to kiss him, and fuck him.
“You like it.” It feels vampiric when Kyungsoo latches on to the base of his throat, sucks on the skin.
Chanyeol’s brain is too foggy to think of a thoughtful response. He feels pulled taut, feels like the only reason he hasn’t floated out into the atmosphere is Kyungsoo’s hand in his hair, the hand gripping his waist.
It’s small in the backseat, or maybe Chanyeol is just too large and not for the first time he considers how this would play out somewhere different. If Chanyeol was brave enough to invite Kyungsoo to his apartment and wasn’t scared that Kyungsoo would laugh in his face. Almost a guarantee he would.
Chanyeol takes what he can get. He lets Kyungsoo’s teeth dig into his throat, lets Kyungsoo shove his legs off the seat and pull Chanyeol on top of himself instead.
The backseat is too small but he still lets Kyungsoo push him down by the shoulders between his legs, his spine curved. He lets Kyungsoo shove his head down, lips already parted. He mouths over the material of Kyungsoo’s pants.
He begs for it, shaky hands reaching for Kyungsoo’s zipper. A string of pleas falling from his mouth, the urge to make Kyungsoo feel good, to let Kyungsoo use him, to have Kyungsoo’s cock in his mouth overpowering.
Kyungsoo doesn’t tease. Strokes himself once, twice, slaps Chanyeol’s lip with his tip until Chanyeol’s mouth falls open reflexively. Chanyeol knows better than to move forward, not yet. He pinches his bare thigh and leaves his mouth open and gazes up at Kyungsoo, silently begging.
Chanyeol would be lying to himself if he says Kyungsoo looks prettiest like this. No, his favorite Kyungsoo he’s only seen once, in the early morning light as the sun reflected over the waves. He had looked so soft, indents from the seat where he had fallen asleep on his cheek. In the morning light, Chanyeol had allowed himself some tenderness, and had pressed his fingers to the indents. He remembers how Kyungsoo had closed his eyes then. Chanyeol had pretended he was a ghost, rested his palm on Kyungsoo’s cheek. Had looked at him and considered. Had pretended they were different people. Had looked at Kyungsoo’s heart shaped lips and how serene he was and felt himself want so ferociously it scared him. He’d let his palm fall then and Kyungsoo had opened his eyes then.
This Kyungsoo though would be a close second. When he looks like he wants to eat Chanyeol, like Chanyeol is nothing more than prey to him. It’s seconds before he shoves his cock in Chanyeol’s mouth, and Chanyeol tries not to gag, breathes through his nose and takes it.
Kyungsoo pushes into Chanyeol’s throat, as far as Chanyeol can, until tears spring into Chanyeol’s eyes and he gazes up to look at Kyungsoo, dazed. He allows himself to be used like this, allows for Kyungsoo to use his mouth as if Chanyeol were nothing more than a doll. Kyungsoo holds him tightly. Chanyeol floats. He can feel spit and pre-cum dribble down his chin, on to his t-shirt, can feel Kyungsoo’s nails against his scalp. He can hear the noises that seem to be ripped out of him, loud and wet, and desperate.
Chanyeol isn’t sure he’s ever felt anything better than this. He thinks he might be pathetic. When he’s not around Kyungsoo he counts the hours to his next shift, and when he’s with Kyungsoo he counts the moments until he’s under Kyungsoo. He’d mentioned this off-handed earlier in the summer, after the first time Kyungsoo had fucked his mouth, his voice still shot through, even as he smiled from ear to ear. Junmyeon had looked at him with something close to pity, and Chanyeol had pretended to laugh it off. Sehun had played along, laughed with him even as he grabbed his wrist and squeezed it reassuringly. Chanyeol had laughed, Sehun had laughed, and Junmyeon had grimaced.
Chanyeol relaxes his jaw, pinches his thigh, tries to concentrate on the noises Kyungsoo makes, and not on the way his own body is begging to be touched.
“Such a slut.”
For you, only for you. Chanyeol gazes up, eyes watery, begging Kyungsoo to understand.
“Made to take cock.”
Please. Chanyeol whines as Kyungsoo pops off, slaps his cock against Chanyeol’s cheek, smearing the spit and pre-cum. Chanyeol slides his eyes closed, hopes Kyungsoo comes on his face, his mouth falling open.
“Look at you gagging for it, gagging for my cock.”
Please.
“Look at me.” Kyungsoo’s fingers on Chanyeol’s jaw burn. His grip is tight as he makes Chanyeol look up. Chanyeol can only listen, eyes wide.
“Fuck me,” Chanyeol murmurs.
Kyungsoo pushes his cock back in Chanyeol’s mouth, “Be good.”
And Chanyeol is, even if it means no . He lets Kyungsoo fuck his mouth with no regard to Chanyeol, whines when his neck twists, and it goes straight to Kyungsoo’s cock because his movements speed up. He lets his tears fall, hopes he’s being good.
Chanyeol doesn’t know how long it is before Kyungsoo spills into the back of his throat, there’s no warning. Chanyeol gags as Kyungsoo slips out, and then leans down and shuts Chanyeol’s mouth with his hand, forcing him to swallow as if Chanyeol would ever dream of doing anything else.
When Kyungsoo lets go of him Chanyeol falls back. His knees ache, and his throat hurts, and he feels on edge, close to his orgasm. He needs Kyungsoo to let him though. To tell him.
Kyungsoo doesn’t though, pulls up his pants lazily. Chanyeol wants to cry, real tears this time.
As if noticing him for the first time, Kyungsoo looks at him. “You’re not waiting for me.”
It’s a command as much as anything else. Chanyeol wishes Kyungsoo would touch him, but he thinks this is just as good. As long as Kyungsoo’s eyes are on him, dark and decisive, fixing him to his spot on the floor between Kyungsoo’s legs. Chanyeol jerks himself off with no finesse. It’s rough and dry, and just a bit painful, but it’s enough. Already he can feel his stomach tightening, his orgasm building.
“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol manages, his voice unrecognizable.
“Hurry up,” Kyungsoo says and Chanyeol listens. His orgasm crashing through him so that he falls forward, head in Kyungsoo’s lap as he cums.
“Please,” Chanyeol murmurs when he feels himself come down.
Kyungsoo is good at handling him when Chanyeol gets pliant like this, pulls him up by the collar of his t-shirt. Presses Chanyeol down on to the backseat and kisses him, and finally, finally, Chanyeol feels himself melt. Kyungsoo kisses him tenderly, a contrast to everything. Chanyeol wraps his arms around Kyungsoo, hands pressed against the hard muscle of Kyungsoo’s back. Like this, he knows his cum is getting on Kyungsoo’s t-shirt and he hopes it does.
Chanyeol wishes he could say mine . Wishes even more Kyungsoo would say yours .
Chanyeol kisses Kyungsoo and pretends.
A horn sounds in the distance and Kyungsoo pulls away from Chanyeol, his lips are shiny with spit, red and swollen. His hair is sticking up on one side from where Chanyeol had held on. He straightens his t-shirt, Chanyeol’s cum staining the front. Kyungsoo’s expression is calm as he pulls on his pants.
Chanyeol follows, his limbs feel too large for the backseat. He tries his best to slide his pants back on, his knee hitting the center console harshly. He hisses at the pain, rubbing his knee over his jeans. His whole body feels sore from being crushed up in the backseat, from the harsh touches Kyungsoo gives him.
“Let’s go, I have class in the morning.”
Chanyeol looks at Kyungsoo, there’s a growing pit in his stomach. He thinks he might be too old to be doing this, can feel the summer and the sky and time closing in. In a few weeks he’ll be moving, saying good-bye to his friends. In a few weeks more he’ll be buried behind work, and this will stay here, confined to the early mornings spent in Kyungsoo’s car in an empty parking lot.
“What class?” Chanyeol says, his thoughts distracted.
Kyungsoo narrows his eyes, “The history of who gives a fuck.”
“I love that class,” Chanyeol replies drily. His tone is biting, but he breaks eye contact with Kyungsoo. “It was a genuine question,” he can’t help the hurt that bleeds into his tone, feels the heaviness settle in his chest. This is familiar , he reminds himself.
“Sure, Mr. Med School.” It’s just as cold as usual. Bored and colored in disdain.
“You really are a dick,” Chanyeol hopes his words are laced in poison. Knows they’re not. No matter how hard he tries he can never match Kyungsoo’s clear disinterest.
“We went over that,” Kyungsoo says, opening the door. Chanyeol fixes his t-shirt and follows him. The night is cold, the wind cutting through the fabric of Chanyeol’s thin shirt, and even though Chanyeol is sweating his skin breaks out in goosebumps. He scurries into Kyungsoo’s front seat.
He knows how this goes, the drive back is always slower, no longer driven by desperation. Kyungsoo will drop him off right by his abandoned car still in the bar’s parking lot. He’ll drive away only until Chanyeol is sitting behind the wheel and Chanyeol will lie to himself and pretend it means something. That Kyungsoo cares. That he’s not hard to love.
He knows he’ll sit there until this all feels like a dream. He knows he’ll retrace their steps, drive down the same highway and then further North towards his home and fantasize about Kyungsoo sitting in his passenger seat for once.