Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10894650.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      EXO_(Band)
  Relationship:
      Byun_Baekhyun/Park_Chanyeol
  Character:
      Park_Chanyeol, Byun_Baekhyun, Fem!Sehun_-_Character
  Additional Tags:
      Age_Difference, Spit_Kink, Spanking, Alternate_Universe, Semi-Public_Sex,
      Daddy_Kink, Infidelity
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-05-13 Words: 14259
****** he's my cherry pie. ******
by chungkings
Summary
     Baekhyun gets stuck in a place he really shouldn’t have been in.
     Chanyeol's willing to help him out, but it comes at a price.
Notes
     I decided to cross post this fic from my aff account ( same username
     ) i'll usually be posting my fics there first, however, somebody
     asked me to post it here because they prefer the layout and i
     couldn't say no as i had been considering it anyways. please read the
     tags before reading, if you don't like age gap or infidelity fics
     this really isn't the place for you! enjoy, if you do.
It's a hot, hot day in the middle of July. Too hot for the usual attire that
Chanyeol throws on of a morning - formal dress shirt and some black slacks,
opting for more casual clothes that keep him cool and are practical for this
type of weather: baseball shorts, and a thin white t-shirt. It's not every day
a man like himself with his own successful law firm got to lounge around in
casual attire, so when the opportunity arose, naturally he took it with both
hands.
Chanyeol had opted to stay inside of his modest four-bedroomed home despite the
glorious weather, it mattered little to him how much he loved the sun when the
sun refused to share his sentiments; often giving him a migraine that lasted
the whole day long, and nasty sunburn on the bridge of his nose. Even if the
sun were to be shrouded by grey clouds he'd have issues: the pollen that
contaminated the air in it's small streams trapping itself both in his throat
and in his eyes, making them cough and water respectively.
So it was safe to say that, even if he could admire the nice weather, Chanyeol
was very much a rainy day type of guy. Unlike that of his wife, Sehuna, who he
had met on a business trip to Korea.
The lithe woman was full of youthful energy and from the get go they had
clicked straight away, Chanyeol falling in love with how worldly and
interesting she had seemed to be at the time, Sehuna falling in love with how
loose Chanyeol was with his bank card and the spending of it's contents which,
looking back, he should've known.
Within a few months Chanyeol had sworn that it was love and Sehuna, facing the
prospect of marrying a man who would willingly allow her to jet off around the
world whilst he was tied down to such a strenuous job of his own, had obviously
said yes.
Yes I love you, yes we belong together, yes I'll marry you.
And it was good, for a while. They had the white wedding, flower themed,
families witnessing them both reciting their vows; kissing at the alter and
whisked away to Jeju island for the honeymoon of a lifetime. But as soon as
Sehuna announced that she had fallen pregnant shortly after the idyllic period
of their relationship had ended, the curl of her lips obviously signifying that
she was disgusted at the very idea of their children growing inside of her womb
- a horrible feeling of foreboding settled over Chanyeol's body.
And, of course, time proved that he was right to feel that sort of way.
Theirs was a loveless marriage. It was a sham of a marriage, full of empty
stares and unsaid words.
( Why they brought kids into the world, Chanyeol would never know. )
But he did know - and he feels guilty about it every single day when he
questions the very fact. He loves his twins of five ever so dearly, wants to be
the best father he possibly can be for them, but he knows at this point that he
could be a better father for them away from their Mother than he could besides
her, constantly clashing with the other parental figure.
Sehuna seems to disagree, as she always seems to do these days. Last time
Chanyeol had brought it up she had sent him a scything look, one that usually
meant that he should drop the conversation unless they wanted to get into a
full blown argument.
"My parents got divorced and I was the product of that mess of a marriage. Do
you really want our children to turn out like me?"
It was a question he could reply yes and no to; though in the end, he had said
a reluctant no just because it was what she wanted to hear. Chanyeol never once
wanted to make Sehuna feel like she wasn't a nice person: she was great, she
had personality, and though it didn't seem to effect him as much as it had done
in his younger days, she was beautiful in a natural way that most others could
never be.
But as a human she was susceptible to flaws like everybody else: and her flaws
were larger than others. Whilst she was kind to some she was mean to others,
and her vanity had lost her a lot of friends. Bitterness was a constant in her
blood stream, and her greed well, her greed had got her wound up with a man
that could hardly bare to look at her during sex anymore.
Sex was.. unfulfilling. Putting it lightly.
He knows he's past his early adulthood, Chanyeol, the boy who had cried when
his mother had told him at six years old that he'd have to grow up even if he
wanted to stay a kid forever, had eventually embraced adulthood.
He also knows that Sehuna likes to read woman's magazine columns about how to
'spice up a boring marital sex life' that is usually written for sixty year
old's, who's husbands have erectile dysfunction problems, not a man of nine
thick inches and a whole bunch of unsolicited desires like Chanyeol.
It's not like he doesn't try, either. Beneath their bed belong items that could
have a whore blushing a mild shade of vermilion. Vibrators of different kinds,
paddles, harnesses and gags. All bought with her in mind, often when he had
seen those goddamn magazines around the place.
Every time the tall man breaches the subject of introducing such items into
their sex life it's, "I'm too tired, baby. Maybe we can just go easy today?"
or, "I'm too sensitive for it this week," effectively silencing him for the
next couple of months. By now Chanyeol can count how many excuses she's brought
up to him on two hands, and for somebody who claims she feels undesired and
that many a time she's left unfulfilled - it doesn't add up.
Some days neither of them came and it wasn't fun, not for anybody. Chanyeol was
a man of carnal desires and needs, always commended as a passionate lover in
his university days, but he hadn't felt an inkling of passion thrum through his
system for years.
The only time he got close to some sort of semblance of lust is when he looked
down at her naked form beneath him whilst he pounded into her tight heat and
envisioned less volume in the chest area, a more androgynous face, lower moans,
a cock that he could reach out and fondle as the figure swallowed up his own.
What he knows is this: Sehuna didn't 'turn him gay.' It's his suppressed
desires caused by a homophobic family, living in a homophobic town.
But maybe if Chanyeol ever got the chance to explore and he was caught red
handed he'd tell her in a fit of fury that the sex had been so bad he decided
to go onto males because females, as a whole, had been ruined all because of
her. She certainly gave him the whole emotional blackmail spiel half of the
time, and he could imagine that giving her a taste of her own medicine and
getting it off his chest at the same time, would feel more than just good.
But, of course, that's just a fantasy. Chanyeol doesn't know anybody gay, and
even if he did, he's pretty sure he wouldn't be able to act out on his needs
even if he really wanted to.
( Little does he know. )
===============================================================================
 
This morning marks the seventh argument they've had in two weeks.
This time it's over snoring, of all things, and Sehuna has managed to erase the
last sort of intimacy that they shared with a simple comment.
"You know, you snore so fucking loudly. Do you know how many times I woke up
last night because of you? Five times." She had glowered, hands up in the air
as she spoke, towelling her hair off all at once.
The sight of her merely in her bath robe used to be enough for Chanyeol to go
wild and throw her onto the bed, messily sucking on her tongue like that of a
hormonal teenager. Now when he looks at her all he can think about is about how
much of a waste it is, when somebody else could be admiring the view instead of
him, who feels nothing. No stirring in his loins, no fluttering of a dead-beat
heart.
The taller man had been admiring the weather outside of the window, peacefully,
content to focus on the rise and the fall of his chest. Listening to the
drizzle of the shower on their en-suite, the house otherwise silent, the
chirping of birds slipping through the glass window.
His eyes fall to his Aston Martin DB9 parked vainly outside of their house, and
momentarily he thinks about running away. It'd be so easy, just to throw on a
pair of shoes, grab his card and a spare change of clothes and just... leave.
But he's a dad, he has responsibilities in this household that stretch further
beyond the lines of a failing marriage. He has two wonderful kids to bring up
and in his moments of self-victimisation, he often forgets that very important
fact.
"I'll just stop breathing next time, shall I?" Chanyeol turns away from the
window and starts to organise his brief case, sheets messy in it's leather
confines. This is why he prefers the rain: because despite there being such a
beautiful day that slowly goes by outside - the atmosphere within these four
walls is groggy and dull. He knows he can't escape it.
And considering the mood in their bedroom as of the moment, Chanyeol prophesies
that a whispy storm cloud will loom over his head all day, bringing the
horrible weather he feels mentally with it.
"You think you're so fucking clever, Park Chanyeol." Sehuna begins as she
strips, bare back naked turned to him, and she doesn't even blink an eye. It
used to be coy, everything was with her. One side of the towel slipping from
her freshly washed body as she asked him how much he wanted her to drop the
other side. She'd always have him on his knees before he even got a glimpse of
anything and he's always stay there, lean closer, underneath the rough fabric
of the towel: milk orgasm after orgasm out of her as long legs wrapped around
his head, manicured nails dragging along the length of his scalp as she rode
his tongue unabashedly.
Those days, however, are long gone.
"Your life may be fucking easy, getting out of here every day just to go
straight to work.. " Sehuna makes her way to their walk in wardrobe, scanning
all the clothes she has at her disposal - bought with Chanyeol's card and not
her own. ".. but I have a job and I have to take the kids to school on top of
that so sleep, for me, is a necessity. Whilst you're at your office with big
shots, fine dining for lunch and screwing your secretary for dessert, i'm doing
everything else, playing the part of the dutiful fucking wife."
His teeth grit at her statement, closing his briefcase with a resounding click.
Chanyeol looks up at the woman who is now dressed and put together and wonders
how he could've fucked up so badly, marrying a person like her. He's got to
hand it to her though, her sense of imagination has always been a fantastical
thing, it probably keeps her entertained these days, as life in the Park
household otherwise, is bland and bleak.
"First things first: I'm not going to the office today, so unfortunately I
can't stuff myself with luxurious food and then wash it down with a helping of
my secretary's ass." Chanyeol's rather proud of himself for making her flinch,
though his emotions are controlled, looking thoroughly displeased as teeth
grind again, remembering the former part of her sentence.
Questioning him sleeping around is one thing, but his role has a father is not
questionable. He won't tolerate it. Raising a finger like that of a parent
chiding his child, he slowly works his way over to her. "I'm working from home,
so I would take the kids to school if you wanted it, hell, I'd be more than
happy to. But you never fucking tell me what you want, ever. You act like I
have you tied here, to this house, to me - but we both know that I have no gain
in doing that - because we don't even fucking love each other!"
"Mom.. Dad?"
The two figures, flush cheeked and flared up, look down at the little girl in
the arch way of their bedroom. Chanyeol isn't sorry to Sehuna for hearing the
words that, at one point, she has to hear for her to wake up to the reality of
their situation. The person he is sorry for is his daughter, and his son
somewhere else in the house, guiltless, overhearing words that he knows will
replay in their young minds over and over until they magnify everything.
( Sometimes Chanyeol thinks he's a good father, sometimes he can convince
himself that he really is: but in times like this when he looks like the big,
bad villain - he's not really sure of anything. )
"Just take the damn couch, or the guest bedroom tonight. " Sehuna speaks once
more, sparing him a glance before she's plastering on a fake smile as if they
hadn't just been at each other's throats. He has no choice now that she had
gotten the last word in, and he doesn't fancy appearing like the wrong doer
once more by bringing up the issue of him being demoted to a smaller room in
the house that he himself pays the bills for. So he sits and looks down at his
hands on the plush of what was once their bed, clenching and unclenching his
fists, a concoction of guilt, embarrassment and anger washing over his form.
When Sehuna calls for him to announce their departure from the house for the
day, standing in the entrance looking as composed as ever, he makes his way
down the stairs and wishes them a good day at school and work respectively,
placing kisses all over both of his kids' faces until they're nothing but
bundles of giggling messes that he can't help but smile at.
He leans in to kiss his wife's lips, but at the last minute she turns, and he
gets the cold swell of his cheek to plant one on instead. Delightful. What
little happiness that was harboured within him by his kids actions have been
dampened by their Mothers' despondency, jaw setting tightly as she leads them
out of the house one by one.

When they leave, Chanyeol's left to the deafening silence of the house, and
decides that this atmosphere would be best combatted by drowning himself in
some work.
But he can only work for so long before his brain starts to wander, and in this
mood, Chanyeol's not really up for doing any sort of strenuous toil besides
flopping face down on his bed and proceeding to scream out his frustrations
into the void.
Other people had already started to notice his awful mood, which wasn't unusual
since he was making absolutely no effort to hide it - from the mail man who had
knocked on his door with yet another parcel that Sehuna had ordered, his
chipper "Have a nice day!" met with a door slammed in his face, muttering a low
"Yeah, whatever." in response to his work associates, a business conference
that took place on his laptop that seemed to freeze and pixelate with every
other word, causing Chanyeol to promptly let out colourful language that was,
unbeknownst to him, broadcasted to the entirety of his employees hired.
It wasn't his finest moment, after realising his mistake and how rude it was,
however Chanyeol was far too wrapped up in his own problems to worry about some
fresh-faced students becoming flustered at his words, like they hadn't heard
worse outside of the work place. But allegedly everybody was angelic when it
came to him, scared of his position and what it could mean for the future of
their jobs, and he wouldn't mind if it wasn't so entirely false.
Chanyeol didn't even offer the rest of the people in the meeting an apology as
he excused himself with a simple, "I'll be leaving now," and that was that. He
could deal with them tomorrow when he had half a mind to be pleasant and
professional, unless another argument broke out before he even had a chance to
drink down his morning coffee. Then he wouldn't. By this point, Chanyeol had
grown sick and tired of the facades. For once in his damn life, he wanted
something real. Someone real.
As he shifted through the letters, mainly all addressing him, probably more
bills and then bills on top of bills, he made his way back into his office and
for another hour or two, buried himself in merciless work all over again, a
routine that so quickly became tiring.
The clatter of kitchen utensils is the first thing that pulls Chanyeol away
from his computer - or what should've been his computer - and simultaneously
alerts him of another person's presence in the house all at once. Of course to
his sleepy mind, he fails to recognise the source of the sound all at once.
The reality is that Chanyeol had a penchant for dozing off when he was
subjected to so much work in so little time, and as he rises his head, bleary
eyed, he registers the foreign sounds hitting his ears.
For a second he still thinks that he's asleep though - and that this is all
apart of some sort of lucid dream.
Because his neighbourhood is quaint, and it's quiet, and people mind their own
damn business. When he chose this house with Sehuna in tow she had made sure
that their privacy would be of utmost importance, and made Chanyeol do a full
inspection of the area for the amount of burglary and violence had gone down in
the place they'd be calling their home. What made him so sure of the fact that
whatever the sound was that was making itself present in this house was not as
a result of a burlgary was that in the past ten years, there had only ever been
one act of violence, and one burglary - and that had been exactly ten years
ago.
Still, he's not stupid enough to think that it's absolutely nothing.
Chanyeol quickly rises to his feet, sparing a glance to the strewn papers that
were stuck to his cheek and drooled upon as he slept, and decides that he'll
sort them out once he finds the source of the noise. In a moment of clarity he
remembers that actually, this could be something or somebody dangerous, and in
his peripheral vision lies a bat from his days of playing croquet at
university. Naturally, he takes it in a now-clammy palm and goes to explore.
The noise persists outside of his office and the thing in his head that had
told him that it wasn't a living person and rather a trick of the wind, or a
creaky door or his own damn paranoia no longer thinks that this is the case.
Adjusting the bat firm in his grip he listens again, as deft feet tread across
carpeted ground. It seems to be coming from the back of the house rather than
the living room or the dining area, an ideal place for a burglary, and
something angry inside of him brews.
Chanyeol can't believe that, on top of the already shitty day he's had -
somebody actually wants to break into his home on top of this. A bad day only
takes one thing to go sour to classify it as such, so when another thing
potentially as awful waits around the corner for it's moment to strike, he's
quick to believe that almost everything is bound to go wrong for him, out of
sheer bad luck.
It's not surprising to Chanyeol that nobody is in the living room or the dining
room, but he had to inspect them for safe measure. Considering the sound was so
loud, the upstairs bedrooms aren't worth inspecting over, nor does he care.
Nothing of significance exists inside of his kid's bedrooms, a few toys that he
can and will replace if it calls for it, but generally they're not spoiled nor
do they ask for toys every other day. The master bedroom is free game for
burglars, from Chanyeol's own stash of Rolexes to the matching women's one
belonging to that of his darling wife. If they weren't to appeal to the person
who was sneaking through their home then maybe the designer clothes and shoes
bunched together in her wardrobe would, envisioning her face as she came home
to a house that he had been guarding all day, just to find that the contents of
her most cherished place in the entirety of the house had been emptied and
probably already sold.
Maybe then it would inspire her to leave Chanyeol for real, as he wouldn't be
as kind as to restock as many purchases from Gucci, Louis Vuitton, and every
other staple designer name as he would a plushie for his children. Call him a
bad man, but he's just got his priorities in order.
The office is ruled out as well, considering he had just been there. Unless the
person was also a professional assassin and could camouflage themselves, he
highly doubts that they were in the same room as him. That, and the sound was
at a distance, he knows that, having travelled through thick walls even if it
sounded close. Truly, he was sounding like a mad man even to himself now, and
maybe the pressure of being a husband to a woman he didn't love was making him
crazy now too.
He hadn't checked the kitchen.
"Who's there?" He calls out, to somebody or maybe nobody in particular. Nothing
or rather, nobody comes back to him, so he takes another step, and then
another. And was he really expecting somebody to answer him? Probably not. As
he rounds the corner and views the door of the kitchen with caution in his wide
eyes, he can hear noises and what appears to be a voice too, and oh fuck.
Chanyeol really wasn't looking forward to having another fight, physically this
time, nor was he in the mood for the police showing up whilst he attempted to
keep this person hostage either.
As his hands wrap around the door and pull back, inhaling deeply before making
his way through, he's met with a sight that has his once-steely grip on the bat
faltering considerably.
Because what greets him is no burglar, nothing of the sort. It's a boy.
===============================================================================
 
The first thing he notices about him is that he's pouting - swell of his bottom
lip jutted out as his top lip gets swallowed by it's counterpart. That
shouldn't be the first thing he picks up on when this kid has so blatantly
broken into his home and ignored the general rules about respecting peoples'
properties - but he can't help it. He looks so utterly downtrodden that his
heart thrums softly.
Chanyeol, for a minute, feels apathetic. He feels apathetic but he also feels a
dark stirring in his loins, at the sight of this boy, and he does nothing to
direct those feelings away because he is merely appreciating a pretty face, as
he had always done as a younger lad and still continued to do as a married man.
There were no laws against thinking someone was attractive, looking but not
touching even if his fingers twitched at times, however, there was a law about
thinking a boy was attractive when he was a man of 28. Plenty of laws in fact.
The last thing he feels, finally, is annoyance.
Because he's had an awful day, because he's stuck in a house where he doesn't
belong in a city he doesn't belong in - and hell, just because Park fucking
Chanyeol wants, for once, to not ball up his emotions for the sake of another
person's content. He never comes off as anything other than level headed, and
is never allowed the privilege to fully act out on his emotions. There's always
the act he keeps up for the sake of his kids, scared of scaring them, not
wanting to show them the side of himself that exists below the surface, waiting
to come out.
There's Sehuna's judging gaze that burns into the back and pierces through
skin, even if she is the exact person that pushed him to come across this way.
Chanyeol drops the bat all together, knowing that the kid is of no harm to him
or anybody for that matter. His presence in his pretty grand kitchen is made
known by the sound of clanking wood against polished flooring, which has the
boy's eyes, big and wide and pretty, become feral, and then he's wriggling
himself free again for all his worth.
Because, somehow, pretty boy who he assumed was a threat — had managed to jam
himself a the low-landing window.
"You appear to be stuck.” Chanyeol remarks as he stays rooted to his position
by the door, looking at the squished and uncomfortable position he’s in. The
boy truly is jammed right in there despite what efforts he’s made to free
himself, the wooden frame of the window digging into his meaty sides and the
dip of his back. He looks thoroughly unimpressed as he lifts his head, prepping
his head on suspiciously pretty hands, and blinks slowly.
Once, twice.
"Oh, thank heavens I've landed myself with a genius. Here I was thinking that
I'd be getting stuck in the window of a stupid man's house.” His natural voice
is lower than he would’ve expected it to be, with his androgynous features,
Chanyeol had presumed it would’ve been higher. It’s much higher than his own
however: but that could very well be the signs of youth, voice not broken yet.
And still it’s sweet - like honey, even when he’s attempting to be sarcastic,
and diablerie laces every other word. It melts Chanyeol the whole way through,
and also pisses him off at the same time.
"It doesn't seem wise to be giving me back chat considering the position you're
in. You do realise that you've broken into somebodies home, and that it's a
matter which usually involves the police.” He questions as he inches nearer,
taking sick satisfaction in the way the boy’s features threaten to break from
what he probably thinks is an intimidating look. Of course, he looks nothing of
the sort, merely a tiny pup stuck in it’s too-small dog flap.
"Go to hell, old man.”
His personality is fierce though, and it’s been a while since anybody has
spoken to Chanyeol in such a clearly vexed way. He was so used to everybody
kissing his ass, due to his position in his work, due to financial status. This
boy clearly has knowledge of how well off he is considering he’s half-way into
his state of the art kitchen, and still, he proceeds to be a wrech of a child.
It’s kind of endearing as it is a fresh breath of air, and Chanyeol actually
finds himself captivated with his burglar. That’s certainly one thing he wasn’t
expecting to happen today.
"I'm twenty eight, that's not old.” Sometimes he feels older than he is though,
what with life experiences, everything happening so soon. “… and again, you
shouldn't really be insulting me when you're in my house, on my property. What
on earth were you even doing?” It’s a reasonable question, one that he wants
answering sooner rather than later. If his wife comes home and sees this kid in
this position, the first thing she’ll do is ring the police. A lover for
theatrics, is his Sehuna, but Chanyeol has never liked making a fuss about
things unless they required making a fuss about. At the thought of his wife and
all the events that had transpired that very same morning, he becomes that
little bit more irritated. Dark eyes focus back on the boy’s figure, still
looking as thoroughly unimpressed as one could in his situation, though there’s
some sort of underlying emotion in his eyes that he can’t quite decipher.
"That's a story I'll reserve for my lawyers when I get my ass hauled off to
jail, thank you very much."
"So you're not going to even deny it? You breaking into my home and coming to
steal my stuff? I hate scum like you, who think you can do whatever you want -
this is a nice town, we don't do anything to anyone, and it's infringed upon by
the likes of yo - "
"I'm not scum, you wrinkly elf. I have no interest in your shit, I was hungry
and I wanted some food okay? No fucking interest in anything you have here
besides that cherry pie right there.. right out of my reach.”
His index finger points at the perfectly made pastry and Chanyeol gawks,
Sehuna’s bakery was sitting suspiciously near the window, having a penchant for
early-day cooking. Sometimes her kitchen ventures turned out horrific, but he
can’t deny that the treat looks mouth watering, though he can’t understand why
she’d make it in the first place. She didn’t allow their kids any sorts of
treats for fear of them getting heart disease or, heaven forbid, a cavity. She
herself is always on a diet, one after the other, soup diets and sugar free
diets and no food at all diets.
And Chanyeol, well, Chanyeol fucking hates cherry. So there it was, maybe it
was to spite him.
He also takes what he can from the boy’s sentence, because the motives for
Sehuna’s pastry making is not the problem at hand here. He gathers that this
kid broke into somebody’s house because he was hungry. Somebody well off
wouldn’t do that, so he must be pretty poor if he had to resort to something
this dire to feed his growling stomach, and he feels a little bit worse at
snapping at him. Not that much worse, but still.
"You got yourself stuck.. for a cherry pie.” He confirms, eyes boring into the
youngers. And the boy, well, he looks at him as if he were stupid for even
asking the question in the first place.
"Yup. Have you got a hearing aid in?” Pretty fingers come up to tap at the
space behind his ear mockingly, and it’s just plain odd that he’s becoming so
transfixed with the sight of them. “Might want to adjust it, I did just say
that.”
"You're such a fucking brat, lord. I have half a mind to leave you here and get
back to work, because I am a working man with a job which you've rudely
interrupted." Queue one dramatic eye roll from the boy who’s ashy brunette hair
has now fallen into his eyes, and a click of a pink tongue against the roof of
his mouth.
"So I've been told. If you think I'm going to be here when you come back -
you've got another thing coming. I don't care how I have to break down this
fancy window, I will.” He says surely, even if there is a hint of doubt in his
own words.
"Yeah, seems likely with all that muscle on your bones.” He faintly hears some
sort of curse word being muttered under the boy’s breath, and it takes all of
his self control to school his features, stopping his lips curling upwards in
sheer joy. “Should I leave you to it then?”
"Fine!"
Chanyeol asked and was given an answer, so he stands to his full height once
more and turns his back on the boy as expected. Of course, he has absolutely no
intention of leaving the stranger here alone, but deciding to mess with him
elicited some sort of funny feeling deep-set in the pit of his chest, behind
hollowed ribs, one that he can’t explain. Some sort of push and pull going on
here. What he doesn’t expect is the boy to remain quiet, not speaking out as
large hands reach for the handle of the door, pulling it open, looking out
towards his office which is in clear view, stepping out of the room —
"N-No ... wait!"
Until he does.
“Hm?" He’s taken to standing in the doorway now, large figure casting a shadow
on the tiles and island situated centrally where he never eats at, leaning
against the frame as an eyebrow is arched in his direction.
"Let me out.”
The stuck boy is the very first person he’s heard to have words that audibly
sound like a pout, Chanyeol chuckling in disbelief as he closes the door behind
him, making his way back into the room slowly for the second time that day. His
former sour mood has dissipated slightly, which catches the elder off guard -
because not many things ( or people for that matter, ) have the ability to
cheer him up once he’s decidedly pissed off. His kids would possibly be the
only exception, but even as a parent, the whole weight of raising two people in
a world as hard as it is stresses him out. Not to say that he’s completely
happy, because this whole scenario is thoroughly uncalled for, but it adds
variety to his day — which Chanyeol can’t say happens very often.
"I didn't even hear a please. Jesus Christ, what type of world do you live in
where you come into another person's house and order them to do something?”
Again he takes from what he knows, from what little the boy has allowed him to
gather from short sentences and sarcastic comments. He’s obviously oblivious to
social norms, lacking in money, and bratty on top of that. All the foundations
of a kid who’s parents haven’t been in the picture or do the bare minimum.
Chanyeol can’t blame him for something that was out of his control, knowing the
kid probably didn’t ask for dead-beat parents, but somebody has to face the
repercussions. It just so happens to be him, this time around. He wouldn’t mind
getting ahold of a Mother and Father though, asking what the hell they are
doing, or rather, what they weren’t doing.
"I live on earth, y’know - the big glowing planet in the sky, rotates on it's
axis and orbits the sun? Ring any bells?” The boy rebukes and at this point
it’s seamless, his smart remarks, but the charade gets boring quickly. Chanyeol
can feel his anger slowly frothing beneath the surface. The kid toys with his
emotions so easily, it's almost scary.
"Well - at least you've got basic high school knowledge memorised, so that must
mean you're not prepubescent.”
Chanyeol mutters, more to himself than anything else. He was worried, what with
his thoughts. The kid is beautiful, there’s no denying it. But he’s no
pedophile by any means.. and if it turned out that he was young, all thoughts
of how pleasing he was to look at and possibly to touch would be obliterated.
It puts his mind at ease that for one, he’s obviously intelligent with how
witty he is and that two, he shows signs of being older than he looks.
Maturity doesn’t necessarily come with age, as his wife well knows, so he
doesn’t judge him on his lack thereof.
"I'm seventeen, even if my face says fourteen. Not that you should be trying to
figure out my age and whether I'm legal or not..” Plump lips curl up, and
something large beneath his pants twitches slightly as he purrs, eyes lidded,
obviously getting a kick out of riling up an older man. “… pervert.”
"I have a wife and kids,"
Chanyeol heard something strangely similar to 'hasn't stopped me before' being
uttered under the kid’s breath, which has a knot forming in his throat that
doesn’t subside in size or discomfort, despite how much he swallows. He also,
weirdly, gets a rush of adrenaline. Similar to the feeling of nearly tripping
over your own feet, or having guilty thoughts of wanting to fuck into an
underage boy on the cusp of legality and not have to face the repercussions.
“… and it was your mind that strayed to that topic, not mine.” Chanyeol lies,
outright.
“True, it’s probably because you’re kind of attractive and all but the false
asshole persona just turns me off. That and rich guys think that they own you
once you’ve fucked them, and I don’t belong to anybody.”
Chanyeol chokes, then. “As I said, married, with two kids."
The boy’s eyes bore into his, knowingly, lips uncurled as he adjusts himself
under the beam of the window, pushing silky strands out of his face. ”… and yet
you have no cute magnets on the fridge, no drawings, or pictures of family
holidays. This looks like the house of a single bachelor because it looks so
void of life - that's why I came here, thought your maid or something had
cooked this stuff and that nobody would miss it. "
The elder is blinking at this kid in disbelief, partially because he’s so
right, partially because he has no right. ”Are you seriously psychoanalysing me
right now? Because I can also tell a lot from your state of mind to have ended
up in this situation, you brat.”
“Oh - did I touch a nerve? Sorry, Mr. I Can’t Stop Eating Up This Young Boy In
My Kitchen With My Eyes Even Though I'm Married.” The kid purrs again, resting
his head daintily on his hand as his teeth, all white, are shown in a leer
before he’s biting down on his index finger coyly.
"Firstly, that's a dangerous and wrong accusation you're making. Secondly - my
name is Park Chanyeol."
"I prefer my nickname for you, though Mr. Park does sound pretty hot. It's not
dangerous if it's true, I don't blame you, a lot of the married men around here
give me those looks. It's flattering,” His eyes flutter slightly, and
Chanyeol’s jaw clenches with how fucking unashamed he is at the fact that he
knows he has this effect on older men. He can’t tell whether he’s more annoyed
at the fact that grown men have ogled at him when they know they have families
at home, or the fact that he wants, to some extent, to mark this kid as his
property despite his qualms with being owned.
"It's wrong.. they're married men, and you’re not even legal.”
"And they have desires just like anybody else does, something that a young
supple body can fulfil. What, are you going to deny it? Or are you still under
the illusion that your wife’s body does it for you and that missionary is
best?” Evidently he’s bored of the conversation now, huffing and puffing
between sentences. “..But since you're not interested that doesn't matter. “
His words are hauntingly accurate, and with them comes an uncomfortable silence
that settles over the kitchen as Chanyeol is forced to think them over.
Firstly, he thinks about how this boy so easily talks about giving him
pleasure, about how from the start he’d had that glimmer of mischief lining his
irises, preening under the attention Chanyeol had so easily given him. He can’t
deny it because it’s achingly true - despite the fact that he’s long come to
the conclusion that his wife’s body can’t and doesn’t do it for him anymore -
and he wonders briefly how the pretty thing of only seventeen has him sussed
out in such a short space of time. He worries that he’s predictable, or, if the
unnamed has just had a lot of experience with guys just like him, of his age,
of his relationship status. Both outcomes turn his stomach unpleasantly.
In the confines of his mind Chanyeol can admit one thing: he wants him. That
his pretty lips would look much better wrapped around his cock than they do
mouthing him off. He wonders if he’d be loud, if his feisty persona would melt
under the presence of a more domineering man, becoming putty in his grip. He
wonders if he’d take punishment as well as he takes his sentences in his
stride, if he’d beg him for more spanks, if he’d wash his mouth out with his
seed and thank him for it afterwards.
“Ah— ”
A slight whine draws him from his dark thoughts, interpreting it as mildly
sexual, syllable almost being whined out. He’s probably just projecting his
want onto the younger boy though, right?
"What is it?” Chanyeol hums unimpressed, and he’s just realised that he hasn’t
even got this kid’s name nor an alias out of him, despite fantasising about him
in all his youthfulness, in front of his face.
"Have you seen how hot it is outside? My back's currently facing the sun, and
I'm sweating my ass off."
“Delightful.” A backhanded comment was pursued as he takes a step, and another
step, until he’s made his way to the doors on the other side of the room
leading to fresh greenery, the large expanse of their garden looking vibrant
under the beams of light coming down on it. He barely has enough time to come
out here anymore, but it was at one point, his favourite part of the house. Now
it’s use is solely for Sehuna’s yoga classes, and not much else.
“W-What are you doing?” Comes the boy’s question, looking quizzically at the
long legged man.
When Chanyeol makes his way out of the sliding doors, sun beating down on his
face he winces slightly, turning to view the scene laid out in front of him,
barely holding back a groan. As expected, his pert little behind wriggles with
the need to free itself from the confines of the window, small self moving so
he's looking back at Chanyeol through the glass.
“I’m inspecting the damage, of course. To make sure you’re not fooling me." A
click of his tongue, a commending hum. ".. Boy, you’re really stuck in there
tight.”
Chanyeol says but he’s not even looking at the window, rather his eyes land on
the swell of his ass, the t-shirt that has been drawn up and caught beneath the
beam, the bead of sweat that trickles down the arch of his back. It’s the first
time in so long that he’s actually responded to a body, cock coming to life
beneath his pants, and right now, he couldn’t care less that the body belongs
to that of a boy, a barely legal boy at that.
Chanyeol wants him, and he’s not in the business of denying himself of such
pleasures. He’s too far gone now to go back. Once his mind has been made up,
all he has to do is act on it.
“What are you prepared to do to convince me to get you out of here? You are
wasting my time, and my time equates to money. Since you’re not earning
anything, I need a motive to let you off completely free. So what will it be,
hm?”
A large hand comes up to rest on his hips, innocently at first, until it slowly
drops down to his behind, giving it a firm squeeze, feeling as delectable as it
looked.
“What can you buy my time with, kid?”
What he doesn’t notice, in his lust filled haze, is the boy’s gradually growing
smirk of victory, nor his fists clenching in relief as he wiggles his ass from
side to side, and finally: the moan that leaves his lips at the hands of such
an older man finally taking what he wanted him to take since he set his eyes on
him.
“Mm, Mr. Park I think you and I both know what I can pay with. Took you long
enough, too. I almost thought you were going to get me out of here before
taking advantage of my position.”
Chanyeol’s eyes look up at the kid feral in their ways, nails digging into his
flesh which draws a delicious whimper out from parted lips. The fact that the
minx had actually planned this, or decided that this was going to happen after
getting himself stuck in such a vulnerable position, made his cock throb with
need to ruin and exploit as per his request.
“What’s your name, little one?” He speaks as another large hand comes up to
hold, the other ass cheek, melding them in both of his hot, hot hands. The
feeling of the other pushing back against his exploring palms doesn’t go
unnoticed, little slut bathing in the touch and the feeling of being felt up so
openly, speaking clearly but quiet enough for him only to hear.
“Baekhyun, but you can call me whatever you like, handsome. ”
“Baekhyun, a pretty name for a pretty little whore. But do you know, Baekhyun,
what whores who tease get?” It’s a gorgeous name, of course it is, entirely
fitting to his appeal. Chanyeol knows it’s a name that’s going to tarnish his
lips as he moans it out, for months to come, this sight will be burnt into his
mind and used for pleasuring purposes when he needs it. Baekhyun will be the
person that comes to mind when he’s thrusting inside of a familiar hole, and if
he’s feeling daring enough, he might just moan out his name instead of his
placid wife’s.
“W-What do they get, Mr. Park?”
“They get punished, of course.” He concludes for the other, not giving him a
chance to think over his words before his large hand comes down on a clothed
behind, sending Baekhyun’s tiny figure jolting forward, though not entirely
close enough to get away from the harsh slap that rains down on his sensitive
ass. Unfortunately for him, he’s stuck this way. Fortunately for Chanyeol,
however, it gives him the perfect leverage he needs to have this kid crying out
for clemency.
“Fuck, Mr. Park. P-Please.. give me more spanks. I’m such a dirty boy, I need
punishing. I deserve it. ” Of course the kid gets off to it, his cock is
probably already hard and weeping in his boxers. Chanyeol doesn’t know why he
hazards a guess to this when his body is at his mercy though, licking over his
reddened lips as his hands come around to pop open the button of his faded
jeans, rubbing his hard on over where his ass crack lies beneath his clothing,
a taste of what was to come later on.
“Do you feel how hard you’ve gotten me? Do you do this to everyone.. Baekhyun-
ah? I bet your cunt has been stretched open by so many men that you’ve lost
count already, I wouldn’t even be surprised if I found another man’s seed
coating your thighs.”
“Mr. Park - !”
“You don’t need to say anything it, I know it’s true. Fortunately for you, I’m
going to discipline you today. The only man you’ll want after I’m finished with
you is me, is that understood?”
Baekhyun gives a tentative nod as a response, heavy blush evident through the
pane of the window, and it’s all the encouragement he needs to peel off his
pants straight from his sinful body with one harsh tug. Chanyeol marvels at the
sight once he has done so, the delicious curves of his ass being hugged by
boxers clearly too small, legs intertwined with one another as once again,
another sway of his ass is pursued, moving of it’s own accord. Chanyeol’s hand
halts it, and then, hits it harshly as a response. The slapping of skin against
skin and Baekhyun’s wanton moan reverberating around the garden, echoing in the
streets of their modest town.
He doesn’t stop there, and wouldn’t, until he’s sure that when he peels down
the final layer of clothing left on his ass that there will be a visible mark
left in the shape of his hand. Baekhyun’s breathing heavily now, watching the
rise and fall of his chest, and the teariness in his eyes, but he also knows
that he’s rock hard against the band of his boxers, and that with every spank
his ass comes back, searching for the presence of Chanyeol’s palm against his
skin.
After a few minutes of slapping his ass and watching the flesh jiggle cutely,
Chanyeol decides that he’s waited long enough to unveil his treat, and drags
down the cloth of his boxers. It’s then that he lets out an appreciative groan,
truly realising how lucky he is that he’s the one to corrupt this this angel,
and how much pleasure he’s going to get from doing so.
“Everything about you is so fucking pretty, shit.” He admires everything, the
stain of porcelain ass tinted red from the harsh attention it received from his
palm, his balls nestled a pretty pink between his thick thighs, the tip of his
cock and the precum that stains his inner flesh of his right thigh, glistening
in the sun. Finally, Chanyeol palms the globes, stretching them apart to reveal
the true beauty: a hairless rim that he knows he just has to lap over until
it’s dripping with his saliva, tongue fuck until he can take no more.
“Are you okay back there, Mr. Park?” Baekhyun’s voice pulls him from his almost
hypnotised trance, smiling smugly, probably knowing how smitten he had become
at the sight.
“You know I’m more than just okay. Spread your thighs, Baekhyun. I’m going to
eat you out, and I want you to be loud for me, okay?”
Evidently Baekhyun likes the sound of that, as soon as the word have come off
his tongue he’s obliging by his command, spreading the two legs parallel to
each other. Chanyeol reaches between thick thighs, fondling cheeky at his
balls, holding the weight of the small circular glands in one large hand
pulling a small whimper from Baekhyun’s lips. And then finally, after having
him wait long enough, he gets down on his knees behind the boy - hands
clutching his cheeks respectively spreading him wide and bare, revealing the
taint that makes Chanyeol’s mouth water just by looking at it.
Oddly, when he nuzzles his nose between the thick globes he smells of
strawberry and musk, a sickeningly sweet and lewd combination that makes the
elder’s head spin with desire. As always it begins slowly and intimately,
having always enjoyed this part of sex. He presses a hot, open mouthed kiss
against the skin, all lip and no tongue, revelling in the way his hips freeze
at the foreign contact.
Chuckling against the skin, he mutters out a gravelly low: “You’re especially
pretty down here, Baekhyun-ah, and you taste so fucking good.”, making sure his
lips brush the area with every word he speaks, and then licks a wide, broad
stripe from perineum to ass, before digging into his feast.
There’s no clean way to eat ass, not in Chanyeol’s book, and as he tongue fucks
into the smaller, moving in a dizzying ritual of prodding the muscle back and
forth through the tight ring of muscles, he’s aware that his spit dribbles down
his chin and coats the soft skin of the boy’s ass. He wants his saliva to coat
Baekhyun's inner walls, to render him sticky and wet, so his hole resembles
more of a pussy when aroused than it does a rim belonging to that of a boy.
Above him an angel sings, doing exactly what he requested, which makes Chanyeol
smirk as he continues lapping over the area greedily.
The one thing that makes this so much hotter is that right now, they’re out in
the open. Whilst trimmed hedges line the perimeter of the garden, people, if
they listened clearly, could hear the sickening sounds of Chanyeol’s tongue
lapping up the sweetness that was Baekhyun’s ass. People could watch and enjoy
him completely tainting the smaller boy and become aroused at the sight, but
they certainly couldn’t stop him, nor could they have a taste of the boy
themselves.
Baekhyun was entirely Chanyeol’s possession right now, viewers could accept
that very fact or they could go fuck themselves.
“M-Mr. Park, oh fuck.”
The minx’s mouth lets out colourful language as his ass juts out obscenely,
obviously quite content to smother the elder between his cheeks. If he were to
die a death a the hands of Baekhyun’s behind, it’d be a good way to go. Leaning
back and away from his cheeks, he sees the form of an already dishevelled boy.
His ass clenches visibly, not being able to withstand the lack of contact for
more than a second or two, truly proving that he was a little slut for him.
Chanyeol collects the saliva that had accumulated on his chin with the back of
his hand, and wipes it down the cleft of his cheeks leaving behind glistening
trail, only just catching the words that Baekhyun’s begging of him.
“P-Please, let me out, I need to touch you Mr. Park. I-I want to please you, be
a good boy for you. ”
The needy voice filters through the gap and Chanyeol can’t take it any longer,
his cock is hard and needs relief, by means of a hot mouth and a tight ass. As
he stands he leans over the boy, making sure to grind his erected member
against his bare ass, closing his eyes at the heavenly stimulation whilst he
pushes the jammed window upwards.
The thing he doesn’t notice, whilst his addled brain can think only of his
desires to take the boy presenting himself to him, is that the window isn’t all
that hard to move. Baekhyun’s not as strong as him, that’s a given with
Chanyeol’s bulging muscles versus scrawny arms, but he’d have to be very weak
indeed to not have been able to move it at all. As soon as the younger is free
he’s crawling through the window, followed by Chanyeol who makes his way in
through the door he came in, merely watching the sight of the beauty on the
counter, writhing as their eyes lock.
“D-Daddy,” Baehyun sobs out needily after moments of silence, whilst those
hands of his wrap around his smaller, dainty cock, foreskin revealing a pink
little tip, wet to the touch.
Chanyeol zones out as he assesses what just went down in the past few seconds,
the nickname evoking something dark inside of him to act out, especially from
the way it sounded so desperate coming off of Baekhyun’s lips.
It shouldn’t turn him on, especially since he is a dad himself, thinking about
how many levels of wrong this is and how he now has effectively cheated on his
wife with a boy far younger than himself and her, too. But all Chanyeol wants
to think about is Baekhyun sneaking into the house and making this a regular
thing, fucking him on the bed that he and his wife first made love on, bringing
him to the brink of an orgasm as he screams out that filthy title over and
over. Having his cum stain their sheets. He’s delirious, overcome with all the
ideas he has in store for the boy.
Park Chanyeol has always been a little bit fucked in the head, and apparently,
he’s found somebody who matches his levels of perversion.
“What did you just call me?” Long legs walk slowly to the other figure, a
hair's breadth away, cock hard against his thigh.
“Daddy,” Baekhyun confirms, still as wanton, cheeks flushed, probably
embarrassed at how the title had slipped out so easily.
“Daddy, I need you so b-bad, needed you from the moment I saw you. Kiss me,
please, ”
Since he asked so nicely,
Their lips crash together in a mesh of teeth and tongue, Baekhyun proving his
neediness as he wraps thick thighs around the elder and starts to rut his cock
against Chanyeol’s clothed upper body, sucking on his tongue as he moans into
Chanyeol’s open mouth. He looks like a bitch in heat, and the older man simply
can’t understand how he made the transition from calm and collected to erratic
and horny in the space of a couple of minutes.
He doesn’t understand it, but he loves it regardless.
“You drive so daddy crazy baby, fuck.” Baekhyun’s hands have already made their
way under the band of his pants, rubbing him through his boxers, only stopping
to allow Chanyeol to remove his sweat-slicked shirt from his body, and then his
own. He drinks in the sight of the older man with his own spit all over his
mouth, swallowing up the low moans that Baekhyun and Baekhyun only is drawing
from him as he maps out the large appendage with his hand.
He’s by far the biggest he’s ever experienced, bigger than the neon pink dildo
he fucked himself with at night to the thoughts of big men just like Chanyeol
corrupting his dirty soul even further, he wants to make sure that he milks
this experience for all it’s worth - and it starts with his experienced hand on
his cock.
“Remember how you told daddy you were hungry, baby?” Baekhyun nods dazedly as
he flicks out his tongue to catch on Chanyeol’s upper lip, giggling at the
action as he interrupts what the striking man was saying. “.. I can still feed
you now, just with something a little different, something tastier. ”
The brunet seems to catch the drift of his words, lidded eyes falling to the
pants in which his hand is currently stuffed in, and he’s nodding straight
away. Baekhyun all but slips down from the island onto the cold tiling, knees
skimming across the smooth surface closer to the looming figure until his mouth
is close enough to lean forward and latch onto the faint outline of his bulge.
It’s only upon looking up at the taller who nods in his direction that he
proceeds to pull annoyedly at the pants, almost as if Chanyeol wearing any
articles of clothing at all was a high offence in his books, pout halting when
they’re off his legs completely, left only in grey boxers that barely hide
anything from the little nymph’s view.
His tongue, like everything else, is pretty and pink - Chanyeol fully believes
that this kid is otherworldly, what with his body being so perfect and
proportionate. The wet muscle shyly laps over the cotton of his boxers, eyes
fluttering closed as he feels the throb of the large vain running diagonally
across the shaft against his tongue, leaving behind a stark black patch where
his spit had made it’s way through the fabric. As Baekhyun’s mouth reaches the
tip of his cock, he suckles, tasting the natural saltiness through the fabric,
but it’s not enough, not nearly enough, and as he huffs, looking up at Chanyeol
viewing him with darkened eyes, he finally decides to pull down the boxers.
What he’s not prepared for is the large cock, springing from it’s confines,
popping out and slapping against his cheek. Like everything he reacts cutely
but lewdly, nuzzling against the organ, and Chanyeol thinks that if he keeps up
this display that he’ll be cuming before he even has a chance to experience the
hot wetness of his mouth. Large hands card through his brown strands, tipping
his head up to view the wet mark his tip has left on his cheek, biting on his
bottom lip.
“Are you going to suck or am I going to have to make you?”
“As much as I like the idea of you making me, daddy, I l-love my mouth being
filled up. It gets me off like nothing else,” He whispers as pulls against
Chanyeol’s firm hold, lips graze over his cock’s head, catching a few drops of
pre-cum that ooze out of his slit, tongue quick to catch the drops as if it
were the most delectable of substances. “I’ll take your fingers, your tongue,
but know that out of everything, nothing will compare to your cock.”
Chanyeol grins at his words, kind of guessing he had an oral fixation from the
moment he had come in and saw two fingers shoved inside of his mouth that were
instantly dropped, but he chooses not to comment on it. Instead he moves his
hips towards his lips, prompting him to do what he evidently loves.
True to his words, he sucks him off like a pro. His pretty hands are skilled
too, just as Chanyeol had hypothesised, reaching around to grip at the thick
base squeezing just hard enough to have his hips stuttering. He lets his drool
drip from pursed lips, head tilted over his cock coating the entire shaft with
the clear substance.It’s then that his lips wrap around the member, going down
deeper, deeper, not quite all the way but enough for Chanyeol to realise the
full extent of his talent, or so he thinks, until he’s pulling off with a trail
of saliva attached to his lips and then proceeding to duck down again, taking
his impressive nine inches all down his throat, stimulating it as he swallows
around it’s circumference.
Baekhyun loves it, the weight of his cock on his tongue, how he’s allowed to
have a little bit of control even if Chanyeol directs his movements by holding
his hair in a fierce grip. Becoming familiar with his erogenous zones, he
places a kiss where his hips falter most and grins filthily as long eyelashes
flutter backwards to look up at the man he’s so eager to please to gage his
response to said touches. His pink tongue digs into the slit of the tip -
swallowing down the cloudy substance pooling there, and then he’s back to
bobbing his head and suckling simultaneously like it was his sole job, his
mouth a dump for his seed, which Chanyeol would be doing if he continued to
give his cock as much attention as he did.
Baekhyun whines as he’s dragged away from the hot flesh, not even half as
acquainted with it as he’d like to be, but it seems he still has plans for him
on his knees as he makes no move to pull him upwards, which satiates him
slightly. Baekhyun opts for rutting his southern regions against the floor to
gain some sort of stimulation towards his aching cock until all the attention
is back on him again, wondering what he could be doing.
What he doesn’t expect Chanyeol to do is reach over and push thick fingers into
the once pristine and untouched cherry pie, coating his index and middle in he
sticky substance as he proceeds to wipe it along the planes of his torso, and
then down, along his shaft, red juice of the sticky cherry staining everywhere
from the base to the tip, looking like a treat that Baekhyun would gladly eat
up for breakfast, lunch and tea.
“Go ahead and taste your treat baby, daddy wants to see you clean it up with
your tongue only. Think you can be a good boy and do that, hm?”
“With pleasure.”
And if that’s what daddy wants, then that’s what daddy will get. Baekhyun
enthusiastically rises to lick at his torso, looking up at Chanyeol as he
begins to suck away at the residue painted over his muscles. Once he’s finished
planting kisses all the way down to his cock, he fathoms that it’d be best to
just go into this full on, and takes it in his mouth whilst his hands knit
behind his back –– wrapping his lips around the dick as the taste of cherry and
cum coats his senses.
As his head bobs to and fro, tongue sliding across the underside of his cock,
Chanyeol gradually begins to thrust his until Baekhyun is the one staying still
and the elder is the one doing the work - head of his cock abusing the back of
the little one’s throat that, no matter how rough the abuse refuses to falter,
gag reflex non existent.
“Shit, you’re so good for me. Such an amazing little mouth, Baekhyunnie.”
There are gorgeous little tears that form in his eyes and drip down his cheeks
though, and still the sides of his lips curl up in a proud smile, taking the
mouth fucking he knows he deserves after being so smart with him before.
Baekhyun may have thought that Chanyeol had forgotten about it, but Chanyeol
evidently hadn’t.
He feels that familiar feeling coiling low in the pit of his groin and pulls
the dark haired boy away, leaving Baekhyun to pant as he wipes at his saturated
mouth. Chanyeol leans down to gather him his arms and hoist him back up onto
the island at which his family usually eats at, tasting a bitter sweetness that
reminded him of the similar tang of Baekhyun’s ass on the smaller boy’s lips.
On his tongue is a coating of both his own precum and cherry, and Chanyeol
thinks it’s unfair that he’s taking away the treat that was meant for Baekhyun
in the first place, so as their lips part ways he shoves two long fingers
inside of the boy’s mouth, widens them into a v formation, and spits the
contents of their feverous kiss into the smaller's mouth before he closes his
jaw for him.
With an audible whine he receives their shared salvia, warm and pungent in his
mouth, Chanyeol growling lowly when he swallows with an audible click.
“Do that again, daddy - Nngh. So filthy, making me swallow your spit where you
eat your dinner at night. Does your wife know you’re this kinky? Does she make
you as hard as I do?” They kiss once more, sharing their saliva between their
lips, letting it drip down onto the marble of the island from where it’s
escaped from their mouth’s. The truth of the matter is that no, he’s never been
this hard, and no, his wife doesn’t know he’s this kinky. Chanyeol avoids
thinking about her at all costs to save himself from going soft.
Then again: with Baekhyun back to whispering dirty requests against his skin as
he sucks hickeys into the column of his throat, he doesn’t think his erection
is going to go down anytime soon.

“I want you to f-fuck me better than you’ve ever fucked her. 'M tighter, too.
I’d milk you of your cum quicker than she ever has, pussy or mouth.”
“Oh yeah?”
It’s endearing, the jealousy that tinges his dirty words, but he has absolutely
no need to be in such a way. Verbally he can’t say this, guilt will eat him
whole afterwards, but Baekhyun should know that with how they are right now,
that his wife is of no threat to him. He’s miles ahead, and he’s about to get
an orgasm out of him, one thing he hadn’t experienced for a while.
“Mmm, positive.” Chanyeol momentarily moves out of touch to grab ahold of a
bottle of olive oil situated in one of the cupboards, and when he’s turning
back around, Baekhyun has already propped himself up on his knees, legs spread
apart as he looks back at Chanyeol with bedroom eyes. He wants to ruin him, in
the best way.
“Why don’t you show daddy just how tight you are then, stop talking and prove
it.”
The olive oil is warmed up in Chanyeol’s palm before it’s allowed to drip down
the crack of his ass, thumb rubbing and pushing against the taint. Baekhyun
bats his hand away with a warning look, own index finger rubbing and then
pushing inside, letting out a drawn out hiss that slowly fades into a kittenish
whine.
“D-daddy, am I doing it properly?”
Yes, he screams mentally. It’s the most arousing sight he’s ever seen, this
angel fucking himself on his fingers in front of him as his thighs are spread
drooling against the counter top as he adds a second and a third finger in, rim
already red and puffy with the stretch.
“I- I can’t, I need your fingers to stretch me. Mine are too - ah - small, not
enough for daddy’s cock.”
“How many do you think you’ll need, Baekhyunnie?” Disappointment laces his
features and Baekhyun, eager to please, almost begs the man for another chance
to prove himself - to stretch himself wide enough to accommodate his girth but
he knows, oh he knows, with feeling the weight of Chanyeol on his tongue and
how it stretched his mouth wide wide wide that his puny, useless fingers
couldn’t do the job.
All of his worries melt away as the pad of the first finger breaches his
entrance, oil making the breaching slick yet still painful at first, but it
soon subsides into a pleasure. Then he’s begging for another.
“One?”
Another.
“Two?”
Another.
“Three?”
The activity alerts him to the fact that like this, he could cum from the sight
alone, something he previously thought was impossible. Finger fuck the child
until he’s boneless against the pliability of a proper bed, milk a couple of
orgasms out of him, and then finally fuck him into a deep-set subspace. The
squelching sounds coming from the boy’s cunt are so loud that he fears the
neighbours will find out what is going on, but the pace at which he pounds his
fingers inside of him doesn’t ease up by any means.
By the time the elder has snuck a forth into the gaping hole the two are wholly
rapturous, Chanyeol can take no more, cock curved up uncomfortably against his
stomach, throbbing with the sheer need to get inside of Baekhyun, ruin him from
the inside out. Baekhyun’s taking to mouthing against the coolness of as
strangled moans escape his mouth, babbling out soft whines of his name as his
cock leaks a continuous stream of arousal, pooling between his hairless thighs.
“Daddy’s going to fuck you now,” He announces, but he’s unsure weather Baehyun
can even hear him anymore. The only time he garners a response from him is when
he ever so slowly pulls his fingers from the confines of his tight little ass,
rim still looking as tight as ever despite taking four of Chanyeol’s large
fingers in it’s stride.
“Finally,”
With olive oil as their decided make shift lube Chanyeol proceeds to pour the
greasy substance into his palm, making a ring with his fist as he fucks into it
a few times to ensure it’s received an even coating. Adjusting Baekhyun’s ass
so it’s dangling over the edge, they share a heated gaze before Chanyeol
decidedly goes for it. Inhaling softly he pushes past the ring of muscles,
relishing in the way his ass swallows his cock up inch by glorious inch, one
reassuring hand rubbing smooth circles into the side of his hip as he adjusts
to the intrusion whilst the other stays on the swell of his ass, keeping in in
place. Chanyeol only exhales when he’s fully seated on his cock, taking in all
nine inches.
“I-Is that all Daddy? I don’t think I can t-take anymore,” It’s been so long
since he’s experienced something so painfully tight and hot, velvety walls
clamping down on his cock like a vice. Similarly, Baekhyun can feel every drag
of his veins against his insides as Chanyeol thrusts into him lethargically,
afraid of hurting the boy by fucking into him too quickly, too deeply.
“Yeah, baby. You’re doing so well for daddy, such a good boy. Breathe for me,
yeah?”
It takes a few steady breaths before a whine echo’s around the kitchen,
signalling for him to start thrusting properly. The pace he sets is a steady
one, at first, building up into something that he knows he has inside of him.
Before when he had first entered him it had taken all of his self control to
hold back and not treat this boy like his own personal fuck toy as he pounded
into him mercilessly, because Baekhyun’s own comfort was far greater than his
desire, but now he had adjusted to the sheer size of Chanyeol he decides that
the boy should experience him as he liked it.
And Chanyeol, unbeknownst to that of his wife and many other of his sex
partners, enjoyed rough but intimate sex.
“O-Oh, you’re so big Yeollie, nn - stretch me out so good. ” Chanyeol drops a
kiss to his spine as he proceeds to builds up the pace gradually, eliciting the
most drawn out moans from a shaking boy, hands moving to find purchase on his
hips as he brings his body back onto his cock, thrusting into his heat.
Baekhyun looks so small like this, so small and fragile and breakable, and
Chanyeol finds himself leaning over his form as he starts to drive into him a
little more recklessly, tongue lapping at his neck as be bites down into the
fleshy lobe of his ear.
“Harder, daddy. Hgh - f-uck me harder, please!”
If that’s what his baby wants, then that’s what he’ll get. Hooking his leg over
the arch of his arm allows him a different angle in which his cock slides into
his slip entrance, allowed to thrust deeper, faster, without anything
disrupting the fluid process. Chanyeol’s resorted to whispering filthy things
against the youngers cheek that has him blushing as if he wasn’t currently
being impaled by a meaty cock, hand coming up as he turns the boy’s jaw in his
direction and presses a few kisses to his open mouth, ceaseless in his release
of whorish moans.
This is the result of pent up tension, why they say men who fail to release
such intense emotions can become dangerous. Anybody who saw the two now would
think that Chanyeol, pinning Baekhyun down as he thrusts into his unmoving
figure, was molesting the poor boy - but Baekhyun is willing, more than just
willing. He loves it, loves how he’s treating him so roughly as the head of his
cock hits his prostate dead on every single time, seeing stars behind his
eyelids as a result of the pleasure he feels. Could become addicted to the
sheer stretch and size and strength that Chanyeol provides with every thrust
and drag, knowing that if he went to anybody else, they wouldn’t be able to
treat him to such an intense level of fucking. This is a treat that only his
daddy can provide for him, and he makes sure to let the other know that he
knows that.
“There, ngh - daddy you’re g-going to make me cum,”
Baekhyun calls on him when he seems to have found a particularly pleasurable
spot and sinks inside his wet heat, again and again. Chanyeol admires
everything about Baekhyun in this state: the elegant arch of his back, the
tears of arousal that stream down his cheeks, his weeping cock, the sight of
his mouth open in a silent scream as he’s cumming with Chanyeol’s name staining
his lips, and how he convulses so thoroughly in his grip. Chanyeol’s near the
brink himself, having held on until the younger was completely satisfied and
well fucked.
He turns Baekhyun around, viewing the hot cum on his stomach from where he had
fallen into the pool of his own release after experiencing his orgasm slowly
but intensely, smirking devilishly at the sight of him looking so thoroughly
debauched. The older intertwines his spent legs behind him, hands around his
neck, as he stands and brings Baekhyun down roughly on his cock again and again
and again.
He cums when Baekhyun tells him he wants to be filled up, to feel his warmth
inside. Chanyeol’s orgasm wracks through his body, filling up the boy’s hole
with spurts and spurts of creamy seed. After their breath settles he sets
Baekhyun back down on the counter top where he lays, pretty as always, head
fanned out like a halo above his sweat-slicked figure. Chanyeol softly spreads
his legs once more, pulling out his cock still moderately lubed up with his
plentiful spill of cum and olive oil which is met with a whine. Baekhyun’s hole
looks wrecked, gaping, so well fucked.
The brunet rises his head, dipping his fingers into his own come resting on his
stomach and that of Chanyeol’s, deep within his hole, and brings it to his
lips. He savours the taste of them both together, humming around his coated
fingers, looking up at chanyeol with glazed eyes. And then chanyeol kisses him,
deep and hungrily, not caring for the tang on his tongue, nor that they’re
sharing their cum with each other through open mouthed kisses. At this point
the level of fucks he gives is at an all time low, he’d find himself ready to
do anything for the lustful boy.
“f-fuck me again, daddy? I know you can go another round.”
Baekhyun sighs between them, reaching out to wrap his fingers around the cock
that was just inside of him, already hardening under his ministrations.
And so he does.
Chanyeol takes him in the living room this time, having him bend over and
finger the cum of his ass before he’s absolutely begging for him. It’s only
then that he drives inside, plugging him up with his cum before fucking it out
of him, collecting a thick layer of white at his rim. He allows Baekhyun the
freedom that he lacked the first time, and he takes it with urgency. The kid
swivels his thick hips like he was born to move them in such a luring manner,
fucking back on his cock when Chanyeol’s hips so much as threaten to stop.
The best thing about their setting was that it was so open, looking directly
out onto the street. If anybody were to look inside they’d see Chanyeol, a
married man, defiling a wanton seventeen year old Baekhyun for the second time
that day. Chanyeol fills him up again after biting down harshly onto his
shoulder, marking his pale skin. Baekhyun pouts as the seed begins to seep out
of him, so Chanyeol stops it and keeps it sealed inside his tight little ass,
courtesy of one of the plugs he had stored beneath his bed. Baekhyun seems
pleased after that.
Then the boy crawls into his lap, seemingly content with innocent kisses, ones
that don’t stray with tongue or teeth coming out to nip. Baekhyun finds
purchase on Chanyeol’s chest, a reassuring hand running down his back, and he
falls asleep just like that. The elder hasn’t got the heart to wake him, even
if they’re dangerously close to the time in which his wife and kids come home.
Reluctantly, however, there does come a time where he needs to wake Baekhyun up
from his slumber — he hates himself for it, because he knows how strenuous
their activities where. Chanyeol wants to bundle him up, take him to shower,
but seemingly, Baekhyun knows what he’s going to ask of him. Another peck is
given before he stands, stretching like a feline, and heads to the kitchen to
start gathering his clothes.
“Thank you, Chanyeol.” Baekhyun softly speaks, clinging his hands together,
looking like he wanted to reach out and touch. Chanyeol hums, still naked,
shaking his head as he bats his hand in the air. There was no need to thank
him, if anything, Baekhyun should’ve been the one who was receiving such words.
Chanyeol hasn’t experienced anything like that for years, if ever. In a way,
the kid made him feel alive again.
“What happened to daddy, hm?”
“I don’t think I’ll ever get the chance to call you that again.” Baekhyun
laughs as he sends the taller a look. It’s full of sympathy, and he must know
his actions were a result of built up tension. Nobody with a good marriage
fucks like that. Nobody with a good marriage decides to fuck another person,
either.
Baekhyun escapes out of the window from whence he came, offering him a faint
wave before he leaves, waddling slightly with the base of a plug in his ass
which almost gets him hard for the third time that day. Chanyeol just sits and
watches his form leave. Whilst he’s in the shower, washing off himself, the
severity of what he had just done washes over him, a trickle of realisation at
first, and then a tsunami. The water so suddenly feels deathly icy.
He’s quick to wrap himself up, teeth chattering.
===============================================================================
 
“You look like you’re in a good mood,” Sehuna comments as she walks through the
door, two kids heading upstairs to start on their homework as per her request.
Chanyeol can only shrug, though inside his chest, his heart hammers.
“I guess, I had a relaxing day. Got a lot of work done with the firm.”
“Nice for some. Remember that you’re sleeping on the couch tonight. I’m going
to order take out, I don’t feel like cooking.” The woman gives him one last
look over before she’s disappearing upstairs, into what formerly was their
shared bedroom, and slams the door with a resounding bang.
It’s quite clear that she’s still in a mood from their argument this morning,
which Chanyeol is surprisingly thankful for this time around. When she’s moody
she doesn’t pry too much.
As Chanyeol retires to his new bedding area later on in the evening ( the place
where Baekhyun had begged to be fucked once more, to which he willingly obliged
) he licks over his lips, still tasting the faint residue of cherry on his
tongue that seems to cling to the skin, no matter how many times he rubs at it.
He doesn’t get much sleep that night.
===============================================================================
 
Life goes on. Chanyeol almost feels like a new person not only twelve hours
later.
He’s awoken in the morning by the smack of a newspaper against the midpoint of
his forehead, bleary eyed, met with a made-up Sehuna looking down at him with
distaste on her features. Not an unusual look for her, at this point it was her
default emotion.
“The milk boy is here, and he’s refusing to go unless you pay him for the six
litres of milk you ordered.” She states, hands on her hips, not budging until
Chanyeol shows signs of actually moving to get up. The taller barely got any
sleep last night, and despite how much he tried to convince himself otherwise,
he knows it wasn’t because of the uncomfortableness of the sofa.
Then it clicks, the words she’s said, making his brows knit as he slowly gets
to his feet, itching at his scalp.
“The milk boy.. ? Since when did we order milk?”
“You should know, you’re the one who ordered it.” Sehuna replies as she
flitters around the room, dusting at pristine things that absolutely do not
need dusting.
Chanyeol makes his way out to the corridor, heading towards the door. The
weather isn’t as nice today, a bleak grey, but that was fine for him. He
preferred that type of weather anyway.
“You must’ve gotten the wrong person, unfortunately. I ordered no such thing -"
Chanyeol freezes as he rises his head: coming face to face with somebody who he
didn’t think he’d ever see again, considering the finality in his tone once
they parted ways. Standing in a white and blue suit, similar to boy-scout
regalia, is the boy who he defiled so mercilessly yesterday, looking like the
epitome of innocence as he holds the milk bottles in a little wired basket,
beaming from ear to ear.
Chanyeol blanches.
“No.. I’m pretty certain you’re the one, Mr. Park.” Baekhyun acts like he’s
never seen him in his life even if his words are laced with that very same
mischief embedded in them yesterday, and it ticks him off but also, impresses
him at the same time.
There’s a sickly feeling that takes ahold of him, but he's unsure if it’s the
type of sick you feel when you’re slowly falling for somebody, or that of
trepidation, when you know something is about to go horrifically wrong.
“That’ll be $7.69!” Chanyeol it’s best not to argue with Baekhyun, considering
how his wife and kids are inside - he doesn’t want to make a scene so openly,
he's not stupid enough to question him when Sehuna is around. Fishing into his
pockets, he’s quick to brings out the correct money, mumbling to keep the
change as the kid’s fingers brush against his non too subtly, pocketing the
note and coins.
“It was a pleasure doing business with you. I’ll see you the same time
tomorrow, Mr. Park!” Baekhyun calls out to the man, swearing he saw the ghost
of a smirk on his lips as he turns, hips swaying to a non existent beat as he
approaches his float.
Chanyeol's hasty when it comes to slamming the door shut, wondering what the
hell he had just gotten himself into, calming his breathing down.
“Chanyeol,” Sehuna’s angry voice sounds from the kitchen, wondering what he
could’ve done wrong this time.
“What the hell happened to my cherry pie?”
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