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It's slow and deep, like the quiet drag from a cigarette on a cold night. But Baekhyun wouldn't have it any other way, especially on nights like these, when they're no longer alone, no longer as safe as they'd like to be.
Their parents are home.
Or rather, they're home when their parents are. It's Christmas after all, and the holiday calls for families to come together. It's tradition.
But for Baekhyun and Chanyeol, it’s a celebration. There’s nothing quite like making love in the very room where everything that they are now first began.
They're in university now. They go to different institutions but share an apartment that their parents paid good money for; “Anything to keep the bond between our boys strong and deep”, they said as they presented their sons with the keys to their new apartment, barely a month after Chanyeol’s high school graduation. Baekhyun had laughed then, discreetly turning his face so only his sibling could hear what he just had to say next.
“If only they knew just how earth-shatteringly strong and deliciously deep our ‘bonding’ usually goes,” he murmured, causing Chanyeol to turn bright red and making him laugh once more. And he would laugh at it again—the memory of that moment successfully passing through haze of pleasure currently fogging up his mind—but not now, not when he's pressed up against the wall with one leg wrapped around Chanyeol's waist and his cock trapped between their gently but steadily rocking bodies.
He’s barely standing on the toes of one foot, an arm thrown around his brother's neck while the other is raised and bent at an awkward angle, his hand pushing against the wall beside his head. He has to make it work, has to deal with the burn of straining muscles just to keep his shoulders and head from banging against the wall of his childhood bedroom. Chanyeol would help if he could, but he already has his hands busy: one is clamped over his brother’s open, panting mouth while the digits of his other hand are gripping bruises into Baekhyun’s thigh, keeping it raised and hooked over his hip.
“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol breathes right into his ear, tender and reverent. “Sweetheart,” he calls again, his hand moving from Baekhyun’s mouth to cup his jaw, thumb caressing his cheek, wiping away the errant tear that escaped the web of Baekhyun’s wet eyelashes. “Am I hurting you?”
It’s been years since they’ve started this, years since they’ve crossed the lines that they themselves have blurred, not once looking back. They’ve changed in some ways, as people do when they grow and mature, but if there’s one thing that remains as constant as their need and desire for each other is that in a drop of a hat, Chanyeol would easily give up his own comfort, would readily delay his own pleasure to ensure that Baekhyun remains unharmed and happy.
(“Isn’t it stifling? The way he seems to constantly hover?” Anna once asked, watching the taller of the two brothers sleepily make his way from his hyung’s room to their shared bathroom. It was during one of Chanyeol’s first visits to Baekhyun when he was a freshman at university, and she, his then-ever concerned flatmate, couldn’t help but admire her friend’s patience in dealing with what she saw as a rather clingy sibling.
Baekhyun shook his head then; teeth biting into his lower lip, watching from his perch on the kitchen counter as his brother quickly consumed the distance between his room and the bathroom with his slow but long strides, loose pyjama bottoms doing nothing to hide the ridiculous length and the charming bow shape of his attractively lean legs.
“I need him just as much as he needs me.” He distractedly replied, gaze tacked on the bathroom door even as it shut close and hid his brother from view. And perhaps it was the dreamy little sigh that he unconsciously let out or maybe it was in the way he said it, but Anna had only looked at him for a good ten seconds before something like understanding clicked in her mind. She then simply went back to chopping cucumbers, as requested by Chanyeol the night before, who insisted that Baekhyun use them to alleviate the tiredness of his eyes, even if he thoroughly disliked the vegetable.)
Baekhyun opened his eyes and gave a teary smile, letting his face fall forward in order to rest his sweaty forehead on his brother’s soft cheek. “No,” he whispered. “You’re not; you never have,” he added.
“And I never will, Hyunie,” Chanyeol turned his head to press a kiss to his temple.
“I know, Yeollie.”
“So you’re crying because…?”
At this Baekhyun slowly wrapped both arms around his brother’s neck and tugged him closer, the action causing them both to groan a little loudly, Chanyeol burying his face where his brother’s neck and shoulder met while his older brother’s head fell back against the wall. “Fuck,” they chorused, Baekhyun at the enormous hardness lodging itself further up his ass and Chanyeol at the searing, wet heat sucking his cock in deeper. They remained unmoving for a full minute, both in an effort to calm down and to listen for the loud, obnoxious creaking of the third step on the staircase, something that always meant that their parents were finally coming up to their room at the end of the hall.
“I’m crying,” Baekhyun whispered when no sound drifted up to his room apart from their parents loudly teasing each other, hiking his thigh up higher on Chanyeol’s hip, using it as leverage so he could wrap both legs around his younger brother’s waist, ankles crossed over the curve of his ass. “Because you,” here he titled his chin upward to look into his sibling’s eyes, his own filled with mischief and a hint of a challenge, “Feel. Fucking. Good. Inside. Me.”
Five words. Five words punctuated by his brother’s ass clenching harder around his cock each time he opened his wicked, pretty little mouth. Five words to puncture through his carefully maintained self-control.
Downstairs, their parents were busy relaxing on the living room couch, the same one where they’d played their little game with Baekhyun’s sex dice all those years ago, the new sound system Chanyeol had strategically installed barely two hours ago right before dinner—an early Christmas present, he had claimed—now thankfully turned up loud enough to drown out any other sound coming from inside the house.
“C-Chanyeol—oh! Baby—!” Baekhyun mewled, head tossed back and once again hitting the wall, caught off guard and momentarily stunned by Chanyeol shoving him down harder on his cock by his hands on his waist.
“Shall we take this to the bed?” Chanyeol growled the same words Baekhyun had used years ago on the day they kissed in the rain, causing him to flush even hotter at the memory. Before he could open his mouth to speak, Chanyeol was already pulling out with an obscene pop and carrying him across the room, and he soon found himself being tossed onto the bed, landing and bouncing on his side. A long arm shot out to stop him from moving to his back, the hand on his hip stroking once then twice, gentle and light like a feather’s touch, before moving to cup and squeeze an ass cheek, fingers then dipping into his hole to push back and plug in his younger sibling’s pearly precum and the generous amount of lube they used.
“What are you doing?” Baekhyun hissed, a frown bringing his eyebrows a little closer together as his brother didn’t seem to have any plans of continuing their previous activity, apparently far more interested in watching lube escape around the two fingers he was now using to fuck into his brother’s greedy little asshole.
“God,” Chanyeol whispered in lieu of a proper response, his eyes still trained on Baekhyun’s furled hole that was involuntarily clenching around his fingers. He couldn’t stop a groan from escaping his mouth, which was surprisingly dry despite the number of times they’ve swallowed each other’s spit by fucking each other’s faces with their tongues earlier.
But it can’t be helped, couldn’t it? Baekhyun is hot, truly a sight to behold: all smooth lines and definition; broad shoulders and trim waist, skin naturally soft and silky, nipples pink and inviting, legs shapely, thighs firm, and ass still oh-so-very tight, despite having been defiled by Chanyeol countless of times, over and over again, for hours on end. And his sizeable cock… there was no other word for it other than beautiful, with the way it appetisingly curved to one side, the tip always flushing an angry red like Baekhyun's cheeks when he was aroused, always without fail calling Chanyeol to worship with his mouth, hands, and tongue, sometimes seducing him into sheathing it with his eager, welcoming ass.
And his face…
Chanyeol could weep rainbows and vomit sonnets just by looking at it.
“Baby?” Baekhyun called out, breaking him out of his reverie with a finger pressed to his dimple and looking up at him with eyes half-lidded but still bright, his gaze softening with fondness, almost as if he could hear his brother’s thoughts. “I love you,” he smiled, his other hand stroking his weeping cock.
And Chanyeol choked, both at the sight and at Baekhyun’s words, his body surging forward so he could kiss his brother on his lips and face, his mouth and wandering hands eagerly translating into sweet and tender caresses what his words were likely to fail in showing his brother, his lover, just how much he meant to him. Baekhyun gave as much as he received, his mouth trailing kisses all over his lover’s face and neck and shoulders, only to bite on his sibling’s forearm to stop himself from wailing loudly after Chanyeol quickly positioned him onto his side once more and thrust back into his hole.
“C-Chanyeol, Yeollie, Yeol—!” He whimpered, his brother’s name dying on his tongue when Chanyeol kept thrusting in without pulling back, rubbing against the walls of his ass and pushing him further up on the bed with the force of his thrusts, all while rearranging him so that one leg was fully pressed down on the bed, bent at the knee to provide more room for Chanyeol to kneel on and fully seat himself inside him while hooking Baekhyun’s other knee on the crook of his elbow.
Baekhyun’s breath hitched at that, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as his cock twitched in his hand in response to both his downward stroke and the tip of Chanyeol’s cock dragging across his prostrate, abusing it the way his brother’s tongue was abusing his mouth, licking and fucking into it with equal fervour.
“Sweetheart, Baekhyun, I love you, fuck, so hot, so tight after all this time, I love it, I love you, I love you!” Chanyeol moaned against the corner of his mouth, the rumble of his chest echoing in Baekhyun’s own as he gave an answering groan of “Baby, I love you so much, Chanyeol, you’re so hard, I can’t—oh baby make me come, please! Come inside me, Chanyeol, I want to feel you, need it, need you!”
A building exploded in the TV downstairs, the sound reverberating throughout the house, the vibrations making their way through the thick floors. Through the fog of pleasure the lovers could hear their parents’ laughing at the cheesiness of the scene, the sound barely registering in their occupied minds, their bodies singing with their need for each other and the need for release.
“Yeol, I—I’m close, so close,” Baekhyun pulled his brother by the neck into a searing kiss, his other fist maintaining the tight circle he was now slowly grinding his cock into, the heat coiled in his stomach now boiling through his veins, clawing at the insides of his chest, causing him to pant his brother’s name against his lower lip and chin.
Chanyeol wasn’t faring any better, his eyes squeezed shut so tightly that he could see stars strewn across the darkness of his eyelids, reminding him of the constellation of moles on his brother’s neck and chest, glittering with sweat and saliva as he had lapped at each of them a few moments ago while making his way from one nipple to the other, his gentle and none-too-gentle bites causing the nubs to fill and swell with heat in response to his suckling and nibbling.
He opened his eyes when he felt his brother stiffen beneath him, Baekhyun’s hair forming a halo around his head on the pillow, a messy symphony of his name and a broken sigh leaving his brother’s sweet, sweet mouth after one particularly hard thrust.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” he whispered over Baekhyun’s lips, his tongue darting out to lick the bead of sweat on his cupid’s bow, and he bit back his shout when his lover’s ass clenched around him and his own hip and thigh were stained with hot bursts of release, his brother’s nails scrapping the inside of his thigh as he bucked up into his own wet fist.
It was enough—everything his older brother did in bed always, always was more than enough—to make him reach his peak. Somehow Chanyeol managed to nudge his sibling to lie on his back as he came, pushing himself slightly up on his knees so he could give one final thrust, shoving his cock as deep as it would go up Baekhyun’s ass. He wedged his hand between their bodies, gently but firmly pressing his brother’s clean hand over Baekhyun's own pelvis until they could both feel his throbbing length that was still buried inside his sibling.
He watched with a sense of pride and an equal amount of satisfaction as Baekhyun’s eyes widened at the filthy realisation that he could feel Chanyeol’s almost wrist-like length and girth not just inside him, but right under his palm, thrumming just below the surface of his skin, as it released his brother’s seed into his body in heavy pulses.
“I love you,” they whispered at the same time, Chanyeol falling into Baekhyun’s arms and letting himself be cuddled and showered with chaste kisses pressed against his brow and cheeks, a particularly sweet little peck landing on the curve of his dimple.
“Sweetheart—” “Baby—”
They chorused, before laughing at each other and with each other, shifting to lie on their sides, facing one another, letting their gazes roam across dimples and bright little eye-smiles, over collarbones lined with a fresh dusting of love bites.
It’s always like this, each time they come home, each time they find themselves fucking, making love, drinking from each other on Baekhyun’s bed. They stare at each other for lengthy periods of time, lovingly, tenderly, with due reverence.
And when too much time has passed and they might be in danger of being discovered, they untangle themselves to clean up the best that they can while half asleep in each other’s arms in the shower, begrudgingly letting each other go long enough to pat themselves dry and put on a shirt and boxers or a pair of pyjamas, then falling asleep together in Chanyeol’s bed like after the first time they gave in to the pull between them.
It’s been years since they’ve started this. They know and understand the dangers and the threat of discovery, but Chanyeol wouldn’t have it any other way, just as he knows Baekhyun wouldn’t want it any other way either. They’ve fallen and they’ve caught each other, and even though it always feels like they’re slow dancing in a burning room, they know they would gladly burn. Together.