[personal profile] maayacolabackup
Title: Armor
Pairing: Baekhyun/ Chanyeol
Rating: NC-17
Summary: There’s a mystery in Chanyeol’s eyes, and Chanyeol is still wearing his stage smile, and Baekhyun thinks maybe he should figure out what’s actually happening, here. (3.5k)
Notes: for [livejournal.com profile] threewalls because spawning.

Notes ii: oh hello old ship how are you long time no see.









“What are you doing?” Baekhyun asks, and Chanyeol looks up guiltily, dropping his hands to his towel-clad lap and peering up at Baekhyun through his fringe.

“Um,” Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun puts his hands on his hips and frowns.

There are obvious answers to his question. The first, that Chanyeol is about to take a shower, explains the dry hair and the towel. The second, that their mirror is on Baekhyun’s side of the room, explains why he’s sitting on Baekhyun’s bed.

But neither of those explain why Chanyeol’s covered in Baekhyun’s make-up, unevenly applied eyeliner smeared across his cheekbones where he’d clearly rubbed at his eyes, and Baekhyun’s mango gloss on his lips, so thick it shimmers outside the lines of Chanyeol’s lips. He looks like a clown.

“Is that my lip gloss?” Baekhyun asks calmly, and Chanyeol’s eyes widen, probably because Baekhyun’s using his ’creepy serial killer voice’, which is really just Baekhyun pretending to be calm and smiley when he’s actually upset.

“I was just playing,” Chanyeol says, looking down at his hands, twisting them around each other anxiously. “I was hoping I’d get in the shower before you finished lunch.”

Baekhyun tilts his head to the side, and Chanyeol smiles wider. It’s his stage smile, though, which makes Baekhyun’s stomach twist uncomfortably because Chanyeol isn’t supposed to use that smile with him. “But why…”

“It always looks so good on you,” Chanyeol says, not meeting Baekhyun’s gaze, and then he sighs. “I just wanted to see if…” Chanyeol shakes his head, and his fluffy hair shakes with it. “Never mind.”

Baekhyun stares at Chanyeol for a moment. For some reason, the way Chanyeol is nervously gnawing on his lower lip makes Baekhyun’s stomach feel kind of queasy. It’s almost like he’s missing something, and he knows, instinctively, that he shouldn’t be.

He slowly retreats from the bedroom, walking into the bathroom and wetting Chanyeol’s washcloth, taking time to make sure the water is not too hot or too cold. When he returns to their room, Chanyeol is still watching the door. There’s uncertainty in the set of his shoulders that relaxes when he sees the washcloth in Baekhyun’s hand. Baekhyun locks the door.

He reaches out for it as Baekhyun approaches him, but Baekhyun just walks around to the side of the bed, nudging Chanyeol’s knees with his own until Chanyeol opens his legs so Baekhyun can stand between them. The towel comes untucked, revealing the skin of Chanyeol’s right thigh, but Baekhyun ignores that.

Instead, Baekhyun brings the washcloth up to Chanyeol’s face, carefully wiping the smudged liner from his cheeks, and carefully getting most of it off from around his eyes. Then he takes a different edge, and cleans off Chanyeol’s mouth. Chanyeol seems to be holding his breath, and Baekhyun is too.

Maybe because this feels strangely intimate, the way Baekhyun holds Chanyeol’s chin in his hand and gently washes his face free of product. Baekhyun doesn’t know why, because it’s not as though he and Chanyeol aren’t really… close. But Baekhyun could have just handed him the washcloth and walked away, probably. Or rolled his eyes and told Chanyeol to go take a shower.

But there’s a mystery in Chanyeol’s eyes, and Chanyeol is still wearing his stage smile, and Baekhyun thinks maybe he should figure out what’s actually happening.

He gets most of the makeup off, but he’d need cold cream to really get it all. “That’s not how you do it,” Baekhyun says, and Chanyeol swallows, tongue wetting his lips. “You’re like a kid playing in his mom’s makeup.”

“I never did that as a kid,” Chanyeol says. “I played dodgeball.”

“I did,” Baekhyun says, and he picks up the eyeliner pencil from next to Chanyeol, taking off the plastic cap and considering the tip. It’s sharpened enough for this, Baekhyun thinks. He uses liquid liner, but for some reason he doesn’t want to step away from Chanyeol long enough to grab it from his dresser.

He can feel the heat of Chanyeol’s bare legs against his own, even through his jeans, and he takes a deep breath. He tilts Chanyeol’s face up with one finger under his chin, and Chanyeol doesn’t protest; just lets Baekhyun guide him, same as he always does.

In public, Baekhyun thinks, it always looks like Chanyeol is leading him.

It had been Baekhyun who’d first pushed Chanyeol into an empty bathroom stall in the Music Bank dressing room hallway, though, when the tension between them had become too much, sticking his hand down Chanyeol’s sparkly black and gold trousers and jerking him off until he came all over Baekhyun’s fingers. That had been Baekhyun’s idea, and afterwards Chanyeol had just stared at him with pink flushed cheeks and wide incredulous eyes, and then Chanyeol had returned the favor. They hadn’t talked about it, afterward. Not that time, or any of the times that came later.

Baekhyun’s wondering if that’s a mistake, now, as Chanyeol’s hands come to rest on his hips, thumbs slipping up under the hem of Baekhyun’s shirt to rest on his stomach. “Look up,” Baekhyun says. “So I can get your waterline.”

“Okay,” Chanyeol says, and his voice cracks. Baekhyun doesn’t know why he’s doing this, because this isn’t… this isn’t the same as getting Chanyeol off in the shower with hurried strokes.

This is lingering, and this isn’t something that’s part of their friendship or part of that… other thing that they don’t talk about, either.

Baekhyun smoothes the liner along the edges of Chanyeol’s eyes. Chanyeol’s breath hitches. Baekhyun moves a little closer, to close the corners, turning the pencil in his fingers, and he’s bumping his elbow into Chanyeol’s bicep.

Chanyeol’s hard.

“Baekhyun…”

Baekhyun doesn’t respond. He just slowly exhales, and caps the pencil, setting it down and picking up the tub of mango gloss. Baekhyun likes the way it tastes, and it keeps his lips from cracking, and it’s got just enough subtle shine that it distracts from the unevenness of his top lip.

He dips his finger into the gloss and smears it across Chanyeol’s thick lower lip. He can feel Chanyeol’s breath on his fingers, ticking at his knuckles, and Chanyeol’s erection presses against his left thigh. And oh, Baekhyun’s hard too, and this… this is confusing. Baekhyun doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“I’m finished,” Baekhyun says, and Chanyeol looks strange like this—like a doll, maybe. He doesn’t look like Chanyeol, boyish and cheerful and grinning like an idiot.

Chanyeol looks in the mirror. “It’s a much better look on you,” Chanyeol says. “I look ridiculous.”

“You don’t,” Baekhyun says. “It’s just different.”

“I’m not sure if I figured out what I was trying to figure out,” Chanyeol laughs, and it’s hollow, and Baekhyun doesn’t like it.

“What, exactly, are you trying to figure out?”

“Nothing,” Chanyeol says. “It’s really dumb, and… I’m going to go take a shower.” He drops his hands from Baekhyun’s waist.

Chanyeol moves like he’s going to stand up, but Baekhyun pushes down on his shoulders. “I’m sorry I don’t get it,” Baekhyun says. “But please explain it to me.”

“I don’t understand you,” Chanyeol says, and it’s quiet, and low, and Baekhyun has to strain his ears to hear him. It’s not something he usually has to do, with Chanyeol, because Chanyeol is so big and loud.

Right now, though, he’s pulled into himself, and he seems so small. “What?”

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” Chanyeol says. “Maybe if I put on your eyeliner and your lip gloss I’d suddenly understand how your brain works, or what was happening-“ Chanyeol slams his mouth shut, and closes his eyes.

The eyeliner really isn’t so bad, Baekhyun thinks.

“I’m going to go take a shower,” Chanyeol says, and his face is closed again, empty smile and empty eyes and Baekhyun can’t stand it.

He shoves Chanyeol back on the bed, and Chanyeol doesn’t put up a fight; he just falls backwards. His hair spreads around him like a halo, and he closes his eyes.

His towel falls to the floor, and Chanyeol is naked on Baekhyun’s bed, and there’s no hurry, Baekhyun thinks. For the first time, there’s no hurry.

Baekhyun doesn’t know what he’s doing. What they’re doing.

“What is this, Baekhyun?” Chanyeol asks, and Baekhyun’s heart skips a beat.

He feels like he’s been waiting for Chanyeol to ask that question for the past three months, but he hadn’t. He’d just let Baekhyun pull him close, and wrapped his hand around Baekhyun, and he hadn’t asked anything at all.

It had been good, because Baekhyun hadn’t had any answers. He still doesn’t, but he knows that right now, with Chanyeol spread out in front of him, eyes half-lidded and almost sad, he can’t let Chanyeol leave the room until he figures it out.

Baekhyun rests his hands on Chanyeol’s knees. His fingertips press into the skin, and slide up slightly, and Chanyeol shuts his eyes.

Baekhyun loves Chanyeol’s legs. He loves how long they are, and the way they curve out at the calves, and the way they lead up to slender thighs.

Baekhyun scrapes lightly up the insides of Chanyeol’s bare thighs with the tips of his nails, and Chanyeol makes this low noise in the back of his throat, and whimpers. “Baekhyun,” he says, and Baekhyun licks his lips because they feel suddenly dry.

“Is this-“ Baekhyun asks, and it’s embarrassing that his voice cracks, but Baekhyun’s never done this before, touched Chanyeol slow and reverent, and Baekhyun doesn’t just want to assume things. But Chanyeol’s hair, still curled from promotional activities today, is sticking to his cheeks with a little bit of perspiration and his big eyes are looking up at Baekhyun, rimmed in black, and Baekhyun really, really hopes this is okay.

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says, and the deep sound of it sends that familiar shiver down Baekhyun’s spine, and Chanyeol’s thighs are so smooth as Baekhyun pushes them apart.

It’s always been quick handjobs in the shower or frotting through their clothes backstage until it’s unbearable enough that Baekhyun has to go finish himself off in the men’s room, wondering how Chanyeol’s pretty lips would look around his cock.

But this… this is different. This is slow, and new, and Baekhyun can’t blame the way he slowly massages Chanyeol’s thighs, or the way Chanyeol opens his legs invitingly with his lip between his teeth, on convenience. He can’t reassure himself that this doesn’t have any extra meaning when all he wants to do is lean up and kiss Chanyeol, sliding their bare bodies together as he swallows the soft groans he knows Chanyeol will make.

“You can,” Chanyeol says, and he doesn’t look nervous, not in the face, but Baekhyun knows him, and he knows he has to look elsewhere to find Chanyeol’s tells. He finds anxiousness in the way Chanyeol’s fingers grip a little too tight at Baekhyun’s sheets, and he finds worry in the quick rise and fall of Chanyeol’s chest, and he finds fear in the way Chanyeol’s legs tremble as Baekhyun’s hands slide up along his hipbones. “Of course you can,” Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun frowns at him. “Do I ever say no?” His tone is wavering. Baekhyun doesn’t know what that means.

“Are you afraid?” Baekhyun asks, and his thumbs rub in smooth circles along the bone, and this time, Chanyeol shivers from something else entirely, which makes the slightest blush rise in his cheeks, and for the first time, his eyes dart away.

“Not of this,” Chanyeol says. “Well, not of being touched, but that you-“ Chanyeol closes his mouth, then, again, and his hands tighten even more, and maybe, Baekhyun thinks, as he crawls up Chanyeol’s long torso, until his knees are on either side of Chanyeol’s hips and Chanyeol’s face is right below his own, maybe, he finally understands what Chanyeol’s problem is.

Chanyeol is his best friend. Chanyeol’s his best friend and Baekhyun loves his jokes and the way Chanyeol always wants to know where Baekhyun is and the way being with Chanyeol never feels hard. He loves the way Chanyeol listens to Baekhyun’s rants and grabs Baekhyun’s arm in airports and makes fun of Baekhyun when Baekhyun keeps eating limes even when the sourness makes him screw his face up. He hates the way Chanyeol always tickles his neck but he loves the evil delighted look on Chanyeol’s face when he does it.

Baekhyun also loves the way Chanyeol’s arms look in tank-tops, and the way Chanyeol’s breath sounds in his ear, and the way Chanyeol’s eyes look when he’s about to come under Baekhyun’s ministrations.

And maybe Baekhyun’s making things too complicated.

“Can I kiss you?” Baekhyun asks, and Chanyeol blinks up at him.

“You want to?” Chanyeol asks, and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes that’s a little bit hopeful before Chanyeol seems to force it back. Baekhyun doesn’t want him to think he has to.

Chanyeol’s still got the heavy eyeliner around the edges of his eyes, but he’s somehow, inexplicably, managed to smear it, and unlike with Baekhyun, it makes Chanyeol’s face look softer. Baekhyun’s makeup is his own brand of armor, but Chanyeol’s armor is the way he pushes the feelings out of his expressive eyes and makes his smile just a little bit larger.

“I’ve wanted to for a while,” Baekhyun says, and as he says it, he realizes it’s true. He doesn’t wait for Chanyeol’s response before he leans down and crushes their mouths together. Chanyeol, like he is in everything, is eager to please, mouth opening for Baekhyun immediately; soft and wet and needy.

Baekhyun gasps as Chanyeol’s tongue licks along his lower lip, but then he’s sucking Chanyeol’s upper lip into his own mouth and enjoying the choked noise Chanyeol makes when he bites down, just a little, on the soft flesh. Chanyeol thrusts up, bare cock rubbing against Baekhyun’s clothed one, and Baekhyun moans.

“I wanted to kiss you too,” Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun smiles against Chanyeol’s mouth and he can feel Chanyeol smiling back.

“Maybe we should have talked about it,” Baekhyun says, when he pulls back just long enough to pull his shirt over his head.

“We talked about anything but,” Chanyeol says. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“I had no clue what I wanted,” Baekhyun admits. “But I’m pretty sure I just want you.”

“With kisses?” Chanyeol asks, and Baekhyun laughs, because Chanyeol’s got this way of making Baekhyun feel better about everything, even about taking forever to figure out what his heart's known all along.

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says, leaning forward so his lips are brushing Chanyeol’s. “With kisses.”

He kisses Chanyeol once, then twice, relishing the feel of soft lips and tasting mangos, and then he’s pulling away. Chanyeol makes a noise in protest, but Baekhyun kisses and nips his way down Chanyeol’s chest. He lingers at Chanyeol’s soft stomach, rubbing his nose at his navel until Chanyeol giggles, and then his chin bumps Chanyeol’s cock and the giggle turns into a moan.

Baekhyun licks his lips as he looks at Chanyeol’s erection, trying to figure out the best way to approach things. But Baekhyun’s always been sort of a go-getter; one doesn’t go from being a trainee to debut so quickly if one isn’t, so he just wraps a hand around the base, and takes Chanyeol into his mouth.

Chanyeol’s hips lift up, and Baekhyun’s other hand holds Chanyeol down as he backs off a little. Chanyeol tastes weird on his tongue. Baekhyun’s not really averse to the flavor.

He licks around the head, savoring the sounds Chanyeol can’t help but make, and Baekhyun’s wondering if it could have been like this all along; Chanyeol happily splayed out before him as Baekhyun had his way with him, without all the anxiety and worry and things left unsaid.

But they’re here now, and as Baekhyun teases the slit, Chanyeol whispers Baekhyun’s name, and Baekhyun wants…

“You could…” Chanyeol’s face is completely open, and Baekhyun’s heart twinges at the adoration in his eyes. “If you wanted to you could-“

Oh, Baekhyun thinks, and suddenly his throat is dry. “I hadn’t really-“

“If you don’t want to, that’s… I was just-“ Chanyeol looks unsure, and his hands are twisting in the sheets again.

“Oh, I want,” Baekhyun says, and Chanyeol shudders at whatever he hears in Baekhyun’s voice. “But are you sure you…”

Chanyeol rolls his eyes, and spreads his legs a little further apart. There’s something defiant in the set of his mouth, and Baekhyun slaps his thigh.

“Hey, I’m just making sure,” Baekhyun says, and Chanyeol laughs, a little apprehensively, and Baekhyun reaches for his bedside table.

He keeps things like lube on hand for obvious reasons, but Chanyeol raises an eyebrow at the condoms. “They’re from Jongdae,” Baekhyun mumbles, scrunching his face. “He told me we were doing so much fanservice I needed protection.”

Chanyeol bursts out laughing, and Baekhyun takes advantage of his distraction to squirt lube into his palm, warming it before coating his fingers.

Chanyeol’s laugh turns into a choked gasp as Baekhyun circles his entrance with his index finger, watching Chanyeol carefully for any sign of discomfort. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says. “You ever… done this before?” Chanyeol looks torn, like a part of him is hoping Baekhyun says yes and another part is hoping Baekhyun says no. Baekhyun can understand that.

“No,” Baekhyun says. “But, um, I know what to do.”

“I only watch lesbian porn,” Chanyeol admits. “Never had any interest in other things until lately, and didn’t want you to know I was-“

“Ah,” Baekhyun says, and then he’s sliding one finger in. Chanyeol’s face twists thoughtfully, and then he looks down at Baekhyun and grins. “That’s okay,” he says. “That’s okay.”

Baekhyun slides his middle finger in and out, slowly, until Chanyeol relaxes, and then he slips his ring finger inside, stretching them apart and liking Chanyeol’s surprised grunt.

“More is okay,” Chanyeol says impatiently, and Baekhyun clicks his tongue.

“Slow is better,” Baekhyun says. “We have all afternoon.”

“Kyungsoo’s gonna knock on the door,” Chanyeol says. “Gonna wonder why it’s locked.” He wriggles on Baekhyun’s fingers, experimentally clenching his muscles, thighs spread as far apart as he can manage, and Baekhyun hisses, suddenly cognizant of his ignored erection, still trapped inside his jeans.

“Well he can just wonder, then,” Baekhyun says, and he’s slipping a third finger inside Chanyeol, and Chanyeol keens at the stretch, and Baekhyun watches and waits to move until he figures out if it’s a good sound or a bad sound.

It’s a good sound; it must be, because Chanyeol is pushing down on his fingers, fucking himself on them, and Baekhyun’s wrist hurts from this angle but the feeling of Chanyeol around him is better than he could have ever expected.

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol whines, and Baekhyun gulps, before pulling his fingers out and wiping them on the sheets. He’ll have to wash them anyway.

Then he’s shedding his jeans, and his underwear, and climbing up on the bed again, as Chanyeol watches him with steady eyes.

“I’m gonna-“

“Please,” Chanyeol says, and his cock is dark against his belly, and Baekhyun rolls a condom on with shaking fingers.

It takes an embarrassingly short time before Baekhyun feels himself coming undone, but at least Chanyeol is right there with him. Baekhyun strokes him quickly, and Chanyeol’s heels dig into Baekhyun’s ass as he comes, mouth parted and eyes clenched closed, and Baekhyun spirals after him, vision going white for a moment as Chanyeol purposefully tightens around him, the same way he’d done before around Baekhyun’s fingers.

Baekhyun slides out, carefully taking off the condom and tying it before he throws it into the wastebasket beside his bed. Chanyeol reaches up and grabs his forearm, pulling Baekhyun down to his chest and wrapping his arms around him a bear hug.

“Chanyeol, gross,” Baekhyun says, because Chanyeol’s got cum on his belly and they’re both sweaty, and Baekhyun wants to go the bathroom and get another washcloth so he can clean Chanyeol up, but Chanyeol just laughs, breathlessly, and hugs Baekhyun a little tighter.

“Deal with it or I’ll tickle your neck,” Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun squirms anyway until Chanyeol loosens his grip. Baekhyun lifts up on his arms to chastise him, but Chanyeol looks so cute that Baekhyun ends up kissing him instead.

There’s no tension between them. It’s nice. Baekhyun could get used to this.

“Leave the makeup to the experts,” Baekhyun says, instead of something sappy like “I love your smile,” or “I love you.”

“Okay,” Chanyeol replies, and the curling at the corner of Chanyeol’s lips makes Baekhyun kiss him again, just because.


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December 2012

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