[19]

[chajatta.livejournal.com]

We were never that close anyway
Chanyeol/Kyungsoo
R, 1953 words
Warnings for love/hate relationships very heavy on the hate and mild face-fucking

Just a quick little thing I threw together last night that I would have posted then, if I didn't have the internet connectivity of someone living in a cave. Kind of inspired by the way Kyungsoo always spurns Chanyeol's attempts at engagement, although let me point out that I don't genuinely believe they hate each other.



Kyungsoo has always prided himself on being able to maintain a professional working relationship with just about anyone.

He knows he doesn’t have one of those engaging personalities that people are naturally drawn to and Kyungsoo is fully aware that he’s not always easy to approach or get close to. It’s never been easy for him to make friends, and he’s always been fine with that, but he’s always known that if he did want to be a singer, if he did want to follow his dreams, being able to work with people he wasn’t friends with was going to be imperative.

So Kyungsoo has mastered the fine art of diplomacy. Over the years, he’s crafted the perfect, polite veneer that can be drawn out for all occasions, whether it’s with industry seniors who look down on him or over exuberant juniors who don’t quite know how to slow down. Kyungsoo takes comfort in the fact that he is able to work seamlessly with anyone, no matter what.

Chanyeol is certainly no exception.

He and Chanyeol have never really gotten on. Kyungsoo knows that’s not what the fans would want to hear and he does feel a little twinge of guilt somewhere in the pit of his stomach, sometimes, when the two of them stand side by side on stage, and he sees the fans screaming up at them.

It’s just that Chanyeol is loud and brash and absolutely everything else that Kyungsoo can’t stand. The way Chanyeol flashes those perfectly straight, white teeth of his in such an unbearably fake smile at absolutely everyone makes Kyungsoo’s skin crawl. The way he carefully crafts and tailors his personality to suit what he thinks the fans want to see; how he’ll cling to Jongin one week and Baekhyun the next drives Kyungsoo up the wall.

But none of that means Kyungsoo isn’t able to acknowledge some of Chanyeol’s more virtuous qualities. Musically, in particular, Kyungsoo knows they suit each other well. Kyungsoo knows that Chanyeol’s impossibly deep voice accentuates the tones of his own and he’s more than happy to share the stage with Chanyeol, to do duets with him, to have Chanyeol strum on his guitar beside Kyungsoo as he sings, when it makes his own voice sound richer and sweeter than honey.

Kyungsoo is more than capable of putting aside his feelings for the sake of the group and his own personal advancement. But outside of work, away from the cameras and the stage and the fans, Kyungsoo feels no inclination to make such efforts.







They’d been assigned to share a room at the hotel in Guangzhou.

Kyungsoo remembers clearly the way Baekhyun had cackled, loud and delighted from somewhere between Chanyeol and Jongdae. Joonmyun had looked between them both, pale face creased with worry.

“Is that going to be okay?” He’d fretted, handing Chanyeol and Kyungsoo a key each. “I can ask manager-hyung if someone can switch, I’m sure it wouldn’t be too much-“

“We can be trusted for one night,” Chanyeol had said, laughing that god awful booming laugh that made Kyungsoo’s stomach turn, even as he’d swatted a still laughing Baekhyun away from his side. “We’ll be on our best behaviour, promise. Right, your royal highness?”

Kyungsoo had rolled his eyes but he’d nodded, if only to appease Joonmyun who had looked about five seconds away from a stress hernia.

It hadn’t been a problem at the time, and it still isn’t, not really. It’s not like they haven’t shared a room before. It’s just that now that the concert is over, Kyungsoo is exhausted. They have an early flight back to Korea in the morning and Kyungsoo has to go straight from the airport to a script rehearsal for Hyung. He feels tetchy and wound tight and the sight of Chanyeol emerging from the bathroom in a cloud of steam like he’s in a goddamn CF is just riling Kyungsoo up even further.

Kyungsoo determinedly rolls onto his side and fixes his gaze back firmly to the screen of his iPad, but Chanyeol is clattering about near the dresser, flinging his suitcase open and rummaging around in it, and Kyungsoo can feel a tension headache brewing.

“Is that amount of noise really necessary?” He snaps without looking up.

Chanyeol snorts and turns from where he’s crouched over his suitcase. “Sorry, I forgot there’s a curfew in casa de Do. Hey, here,” he turns around and offers both hands out to Kyungsoo, palms facing upwards in supplication, “come and slap my wrists for being such a bad boy.”

“We have to be up in six hours, asshole, I’d like to get at least a few hours sleep before then,” Kyungsoo snaps. He pointedly doesn’t look at how Chanyeol’s biceps bunch up across his chest.

“And my early hours, rock and roll antics are offending your delicate little sensibilities, are they?” Chanyeol turns to root through his suitcase again, then he stands quickly and kicks it shut. He has a bottle of moisturiser in his hand and Kyungsoo watches as he turns to the mirror on the dresser and applies it liberally all over his face. “No, you’re right, I’m being an inconsiderate prick and I don’t know how you put up with me,” Chanyeol continues, slapping his cheeks with entirely more vigour than necessary, “you must be a saint, that’s the only explanation.”

The muscles in Chanyeol’s bare back flex as he finishes up. Kyungsoo makes sure he’s glaring at Chanyeol’s reflection by the time he looks away from the image of his own face long enough for their eyes to meet.

“What, no witty retort? No more complaints?” Chanyeol turns and wipes the last residues of the cream off on his stomach. He raises an eyebrow when Kyungsoo’s eyes drift down to follow it.

Kyungsoo finally sits up, putting his iPad to one side and pushing himself up onto his elbows. There’s only one way to truly shut Chanyeol up when he’s like this, Kyungsoo’s found, and engaging in verbal sparring with him isn’t it.

“Get over here,” he demands. Chanyeol stares him down and for a second it looks like he’s going to stubbornly remain where he is, but Kyungsoo parts his legs the slightest fraction and finally he shifts. Chanyeol’s movements are slow and deliberate as he draws the bath towel from around his shoulders. Kyungsoo can feel the tension curling in his stomach but he remains silent, just watching with keen eyes as Chanyeol drapes his towel over the dresser and then prowls towards him with all the animosity of an angry bear. Chanyeol’s eyes skitter up Kyungsoo’s body and then finally he kneels on the end of the bed, arms braced either side of Kyungsoo’s hips as he looms over him.

They might not get on, exactly, but that doesn’t mean Kyungsoo doesn’t find Chanyeol attractive, and Kyungsoo has never been one to try and deny his body when it tells him what it wants.

“What?” Chanyeol asks and he looks like he wants to say more, but Kyungsoo beats him to it.

“Don’t say a word,” he snarls. “If you’re going to insist on keeping me awake, you can at least put that mouth of yours to better use.”

Chanyeol laughs, low and deep and anything but amused. He shuffles back a little, moves so that all of his weight is braced on one arm, and shoves Kyungsoo’s pyjama pants down without preamble.

He doesn’t bother getting Kyungsoo’s pants and underwear down any further than his thighs, stripping Kyungsoo just enough so that his cock springs out. He isn’t hard, not yet, but Kyungsoo twitches under the first touch of Chanyeol’s fingers. The corners of Chanyeol’s lips quirk up into an infuriating smile and Kyungsoo reaches up to slap a hand over his mouth.

“I thought I told you not to speak,” Kyungsoo hisses and the answering laughter is obvious in Chanyeol’s dark eyes as he peers down at Kyungsoo. He moves his hand, firms his grip up around Kyungsoo’s cock, and Kyungsoo jerks his hand away from Chanyeol’s mouth with an undignified yelp of disgust when he feels Chanyeol’s tongue lick a hot, wet stripe across the palm of his hand.

“God, you really are like a dog,” Kyungsoo grumbles but he leans back against the headboard as Chanyeol continues to work his cock, his large hand almost swallowing the whole length of it. He doesn’t speak again, though, and he bows his head almost obediently when Kyungsoo curls his fingers roughly into his hair.

“Your mouth,” Kyungsoo reminds him, just as Chanyeol’s thumb skates over his head and then dips into the slit. Kyungsoo’s hips jerk up and he swallows down a little sound of pleasure, even as the evidence leaks across Chanyeol’s palm.

Chanyeol drops his hand to curl around the base of Kyungsoo’s dick, holding him steady as he lowers his head. Kyungsoo’s fingers are rough as they guide him down but Chanyeol keeps quiet and Kyungsoo can never quite figure him out when he’s like this, when he allows Kyungsoo to bend him to his will even though Kyungsoo can see that fire still burning in his eyes.

The first touch of Chanyeol’s mouth around the head of Kyungsoo’s dick has him groaning and he grips tighter at Chanyeol’s hair, digs his blunt nails into Chanyeol’s scalp. His tongue is slick as it drags down the underside and Kyungsoo likes it a lot better when it’s like this, when it’s occupied.

Kyungsoo must be more tired than he thought, because he can feel the heat of his orgasm curling hot and heavy in his balls much earlier than he would like. He braces his feet against the mattress to give him the leverage to push up, to fuck up into Chanyeol’s face. Kyungsoo sees the way Chanyeol’s eyes, so dark and smug, flicker up to look at him, and Kyungsoo pushes his head down, forces it lower, until his nose is pressed to Kyungsoo’s stomach and Kyungsoo doesn’t have to look at his face. He holds Chanyeol there until he comes, spilling with a muted little moan into Chanyeol’s mouth.

Chanyeol pulls away before he’s finished, jerking himself roughly out of Kyungsoo’s hold. There’s come splattered on his chin and Kyungsoo is left, sprawled and trembling, as Chanyeol leans over to grab a handful of tissues from the side table. Kyungsoo watches with some satisfaction as he spits into them before tossing them aside. The tent in the front of Chanyeol’s pyjamas is painfully obvious but Kyungsoo doesn’t reach out to him, doesn’t offer to help finish him off. Instead he milks the last shuddering edge of his own orgasm out with his hand and watches as Chanyeol stands from the bed and disappears into the bathroom.

The sound of the tap running thunders in Kyungsoo’s ears as he pulls his pants back up. He wriggles under the covers and he’s back on his tablet by the time Chanyeol re-emerges from the bathroom. The sharp, sterile scent of mouthwash pours out into the bedroom with him and Kyungsoo watches over the top of his iPad with heavy eyes as Chanyeol pads across the room on slightly shaky legs.

Chanyeol falls quickly into his own bed, shuffling wordlessly under the sheets and then turning his back on Kyungsoo. He flicks the lights off and Kyungsoo’s face is washed sickly and pale in the stark, white glow from his tablet screen as they’re plunged into darkness. They don’t say goodnight to each other. They never do, especially not on the nights when they do this, but Kyungsoo doesn’t fall asleep until long after Chanyeol’s own breathing has evened out.