Chapter 8
Life à la Mode
A/N: This is the longest chapter so far, but not by that much compared to the rest. I just really went crazy with the details, but when did I ever not? XD
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Chapter 8
Yifan was thankful that he didn't encounter any trouble getting into 770 Park Avenue, despite not having any idea who apartment 23/A was supposed to belong to. The receptionist recognized him immediately, saw that he was in a hurry, and simply gestured to the direction of the elevators. He was truly glad for that, because it would have been awkward as hell if the woman had asked who he came there for and he was unable to provide a name.
He was currently walking along the relatively spacious hallway of the 12th floor, and it fortunately didn't take him too long to find 23/A seeing as the entire area was occupied by only 3 other units.
In four long strides, he was standing in front of a white, 2-panel door with gold hinges and lever handles. On its right side was an intercom and below it was the doorbell, also done in polished gilded brass. Whoever lived here was pretty fancy as well, it seemed.
Yifan raised a hand to press the button, but paused when he realized that it was absolutely quiet on the other side. Even assuming that the entire apartment was soundproof, any loud music playing would still be heard a little bit from outside, especially if there was supposed to be a party going on. Weird.
Now that he thought about it, how did Jun even end up at a college party? Why did Heechul allow it in the first place? Or did Jun actually lie to his mom about where he was going? That brat. He obviously didn't want to get ed at by his harpy mother so he had asked dear old Yifan-gege to come save him from the big, bad college kids instead.
Yifan had gone into full panic mode earlier because Jun mentioned in the text that he was being 'pressured' into trying out some 'stuff'. Of course, those could only be either one of two things: alcohol or drugs. And Yifan would sooner dress in rags and roll around in mud than allow someone he practically considered as his own nephew (who was more like a niece, really) to be tricked into doing anything illegal and potentially harmful.
So now he was here to the rescue. (Yifan had to admit that as a kid, his biggest dream was to become Iron Man. That obviously didn't happen, because Robert Downey Jr. beat him to it, but maybe this was his chance. He could totally pull off being Tony Stark, as he himself was a 'genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.' Well, perhaps not quite the genius part, but he was damn close.)
However, as he stood there, straining to pick up even the slightest noise, he could swear there was nothing at all. No loud music or drunk people whooping and breaking furniture.
Was he in the right unit? Yifan checked the number above the door once more, and sure enough, he was indeed standing in front of apartment 23/A. The one beside it was 23/B. Why was it so quiet, then? Did someone die? Or perhaps the neighbors complained?
Whatever. He was going to find out eventually.
Yifan didn't waste any more time asking himself stupid questions that he couldn't possibly have the answers to and pressed the button, before taking a step backward as he was too close.
It was nearly a minute later when he heard a long beep that obviously came from disabling the security system. He straightened up and brushed some imaginary lint off of his shoulders, trying to come off a bit less intimidating by plastering a pleasant smile on his face, albeit a fake one.
Nothing happened.
An eyebrow twitched at his wasted effort to be nice, but he remained patient nonetheless because this was still somebody else's home and he was a decent human being. He couldn't be rude, even if he was starting to get irked at how long it was taking for whoever that person was to open the damn door. How difficult was it to open a door? Was there a complicated set of locks in there?
Another few seconds passed before he caught the unmistakable sound of a hand slapping against a wooden surface. Quite hard at that. What the hell?
Yifan's mind conjured a mental image of a random guy/gal attacking an innocent, defenseless inanimate object, and was now starting to find the entire situation kind of funny. This fellow was most likely either drunk or high and had lost command of their brain's primary motor cortex. The supposedly simple task of opening the door probably was a challenge for them.
Chuckling soundlessly, Yifan decided to wait for a little while more. He just hoped that Jun wasn't in the same inebriated state, or these people would soon have a lawsuit to deal with courtesy of a furious mama bear. The scariest part was that he wasn't exaggerating. Heechul would do it, and, given the chance, would gladly skin the perpetrators alive and skewer them for even daring to think that they had the right to harm his darling cub.
The gods themselves cowered whenever Heechul unleashed his wrath. These poor, unfortunate souls were going to wish they were never born.
Yifan prayed for them.
He cheered mentally when he finally heard a click, and then the door was yanked open.
Of all the things Yifan had expected the person to be—a frat guy, a sorority girl, a stoner, or a fat dude with a giant slice of pizza in his hand—nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared him for the vision that appeared before him, dressed in nothing but a skimpy robe made of black silk.
Was he hallucinating or was there really a celestial choir descending from the heavens right now?
As much as he didn't want to be branded as a 'Giant erted Oaf' yet again, no one could blame Yifan if his eyes zeroed in on those long, long legs covered in flawless porcelain skin. It was reflex; he couldn't control it even if he wanted to. He didn't want to.
He had to bite back a groan of appreciation when he reached them thighs, because the first thing he thought of was being straddled by them and… OK, he was a hot-blooded male, and he had the right to fantasize. They would stay in his head. For now.
Yifan allowed his gaze to travel further up, past the lovely curve of those hips, the delightfully small waist that he could probably fit both of his monstrous hands around, until it landed on… Whoa. He didn't really notice this the first two times they were together in person, but daaaaamn, that bustline was definitely top-notch, not only for carriers but even for actual females. Yifan was aware that Sehun's were notorious for being the ' that sold a million bras', but these could easily compete with that. He wouldn't really say that he was a person, because he was more like an everything (as in he put every quality into consideration) person, but he wasn't complaining.
So utterly and ridiculously entranced was Yifan that he didn't even register the complete lack of people in the apartment, which basically confirmed that no 'college party' was in full swing, nor had there ever been.
When he finally regained some of his brain function and realized that he looked like an absolute idiot standing there with his mouth hanging halfway open, he swallowed and blurted out, “Chanyeol?” at the same time that the scantily-clad seductress asked, “Kris?”
Just what in the name of Bruce Almighty was going on? What was Chanyeol doing here? Whose place was this? Why BLARGHasdshjnitklghrjfgnmvirkdngutlri$%@^ (Excuse him, he was barely capable of coherent thought at the moment, as anyone would be when faced with the object of their every desire. Not that he would ever look at Chanyeol as an object; it was just a metaphor.)
His initial awe and confusion turned into concern, however, when he noticed that Chanyeol seemed to be barely keeping himself upright. His normally bright, sparkling hazel orbs were also heavy-lidded and bloodshot.
By pure instinct, as if he somehow knew that he had to (despite what had transpired between them just this morning), Yifan took a step closer to the redhead and gently asked, “Are you okay? You look like you're about to collapse any second.”
Chanyeol shook his head, but Yifan could clearly see that doing so only made it worse. “I'm fine, I just-”
It was a blessing that Yifan had great reflexes developed from years of playing ball in his youth, or else he wouldn't have caught Chanyeol as the other, as he had feared, passed out without warning.
“Chanyeol!” He tightened his arm around the redhead's waist and pulled him to his chest, noticing for the second time since they met just how little the other weighed. He didn't know if he was just that strong or if Chanyeol really was underweight.
Seeing that their current position could not in any way be comfortable for Chanyeol, Yifan bent his knees a little, brought his other arm under the redhead's legs, and easily lifted him up bridal style.
Due to their extremely close proximity, he also caught a whiff of the other's light, but nonetheless exhilarating scent. Chanyeol smelled as wonderful as ever, like happiness and delight and everything good in this world combined, but Yifan also detected the subtle stench of alcohol. That explained it.
At least it was nothing serious. Chanyeol was only drunk. Possibly over-fatigued as well, according to what Jaejoong had told him about the model's demanding schedule, which often called for 18-hour days. Apparently, designers, photographers, other models, and just about everyone in the industry loved to work with Chanyeol because he didn't have the typical diva-tude, as they called it. He was fun to be around, brought sunshine wherever he went, and treated everybody like a friend.
Learning those things about the redhead only made Yifan even more determined to really get to know him personally. He couldn't wait for the day that Chanyeol would be comfortable enough in his presence to not want to run away from him. To just hang out and talk and laugh for hours. Yifan longed for that more than anything he had ever longed for in his life, including that new $400 million penthouse in Monte Carlo with 5 levels and an infinity pool (which would be his eventually).
He looked down at his precious cargo and smiled. He'd very much like to share it with Chanyeol, too, if fate would ever be as kind as to entrust this angel on earth to him. He knew he sounded like an irrevocably besotted fool, but that's kind of what he was.
“Chanyeol, who is – Oh, my God, what happened? Kris?”
Yifan looked up and saw a wide-eyed Sehun, dressed similarly to Chanyeol, but in ethereal white. It was probably safe to assume that he just intruded on a slumber party. Great.
“Привет… Добрый вечер (Hi… Good evening),” he greeted in Russian a bit awkwardly, with a smile just as awkward that was returned by the gorgeous half Russian model. He had almost forgotten just how mind-blowingly stunning Sehun was. His skin was practically translucent, and his figure was to die for. Sehun wasn't exactly his type, but he appreciated the view.
“Привет. Что вы тут де́лаете (Hi. What are you doing here)?” It was obvious in the other's tone that he found it weird that Yifan was there.
He sighed. “Является Jun там (Is Jun in there)?”
Sehun blinked, because that wasn't exactly an answer. “Да, почему (Yes, why)?”
“I'll explain later. Let's get Chanyeol somewhere comfortable first.”
“Of course. Come in.”
“Спасибо (Thank you).”
He was led by Sehun into the lavish apartment, but he didn't have the presence of mind to admire it because he was too focused on the unconscious redhead in his arms.
When they reached the living room, he finally saw the manipulative mastermind that was responsible for bringing him here. With an unattractive -eating grin on his otherwise pretty face. It reminded him so much of Heechul's that it made Yifan's skin crawl. He had been on the receiving end of that grin far too many times in the past, and none of it ended up well for him.
“'Sup, Yifan-ge? How did you like my – Oh, my God, why is Yeolliepop dead?” Jun gasped as he jumped from the couch and hurried towards them.
Yifan gave the mischievous 15-year-old an unimpressed look. “Don't 'Sup' me, you insolent brat. And he's not dead, just drunk. How did you even- Wait, what? Yeolliepop?”
“Wow, priorities.” Jun threw him a judging look, but he just glared, which prompted the teenager to provide a better response. “That's his nickname, duh.”
Huh. Cute and fitting. Yifan learned something new. He took note of it for future reference.
That was when Luhan decided to join them, having just exited the bathroom. “Oh, hey, Kris. Didn't know you were invited, too. Did you bring your – Whoa, he's already passed out??? Weak.” The half German snorted, apparently finding the situation amusing. He was the only one who wasn't even the least bit worried.
Sehun raised an eyebrow and directly addressed his longtime friend. “So this is your fault? Wait, don't answer that, of course it's your fault. Who else could it be?”
Jun tutted, shaking his head in mock disappointment.
The amber-eyed demon-possessed doll just scoffed. “Hey, why is it always my fault by default?”
Everyone, including Yifan himself, just gave the honey blonde model a dead look. Did Luhan actually believe that anybody else in this room could be the prime suspect?
Luhan turned around to see if there was someone else behind him that they were looking at, but there was only the wall. Yifan would have laughed if it wouldn't have ruined the atmosphere.
Finally, Luhan made eye contact with them, scratching the side of his neck as he said, “OK, I acknowledge that, but that doesn't mean I don't resent it. And besides, he's the one who can't hold his liquor.”
“I know, but that can't be the side effect of simply 5 shots of tequila. I've seen him do better than that,” Sehun argued, the accusation clear in his tone.
Luhan shrugged, trying to play ignorant. “Maybe he and Patrón don't mix well together?”
Jun snapped his fingers and they all brought their attention to the youngest. “Didn't you fix him something before dinner? What was that?”
Yifan's eyebrows knitted together when Luhan started looking nervous and shifty.
“Uhh, Long Island Iced Tea?”
Sehun narrowed his eyes. “What did you put in it?”
“That was quite a big highball glass, too,” Jun added.
Luhan didn't seem like he was going to be honest about it any time soon, so Yifan asked him this time, deceptively calm but with an underlying threat. “Luhan, what did you put in the drink?” He knew very well how irrational and impulsive the half German carrier could be, and Yifan wasn't above reprimanding him if the situation called for it. As much as he adored Luhan, Chanyeol came first. (Admitting that was easier than he thought it would be.)
That did the trick, because Luhan raised both hands in surrender. “Fine! Instead of regular vodka, I used Everclear*.”
Yifan's eyes darkened further and Sehun gasped. Jun only looked confused.
“And...”
“There's more?” Sehun's eyes widened incredulously.
“What else?” Yifan dreaded to hear the answer. Everclear was bad enough, but if there was something else in there that shouldn't have been...
“I also added a bit of...” The last word was almost inaudibly mumbled, so Yifan asked again, “What? Say it louder.”
“Absinthe, okay? I added absinthe!”
Sehun started cursing in Russian, while Yifan jumped into action.
“, we gotta check his pulse.”
He moved quickly to get to the couch, but took great care in putting Chanyeol down so as not to jostle the sleeping redhead, who, for all he knew, might actually be in a coma already. God, he hoped not.
Yifan lightly pressed two fingers into Chanyeol's neck, just beside the larynx, and sighed in relief when he deemed the pulse regular, although it was about half a second slower than it should be. It really wasn't a cause for alarm yet, unless it slowed down even further. Chanyeol wasn't cold either, and his lips were still the same perfect shade of pink.
After checking all the symptoms of alcohol poisoning and confirming that Chanyeol didn't exhibit any of them, he turned around to announce it to the others.
“Alright, guys, he's -” But his voice was drowned out by the shouting match that ensued.
“Where did you even get those? I don't have either of them in my mini bar!”
“I brought them with me!”
“Luhan, there's a reason why Absinthe and Everclear were outlawed before! Even if they're now more or less legal, that doesn't mean that it's okay to serve them to a light drinker! Have you even thought of that?”
“I know, but I just really wanted to see him drunk! Don't you? We've never seen him drunk! It's not fair! He always tries to play safe whenever we hit the clubs!”
“Well, congratulations, because now you've potentially poisoned him!”
“That wasn't my intention!”
“That's what you always say whenever you up! Which is about 99.99% of the time!”
Luhan retaliated but Yifan tuned it out. His ears were starting to ring from this -off and he didn't think he could listen to more of it without getting a good 10 years shaved off of his life span, so he finally raised his own voice. “Guys!” That shut the two models up. This right here just reminded him why he never considered pursuing either of them, despite their beauty and status. Too much drama.
The billionaire pinched the bridge of his nose. “You might want to know that he's fine. For the most part. We just need to monitor him to make sure it doesn't get any worse over night.”
The good news at least calmed everyone down, and alleviated most of the tension in the room. Luhan then walked closer to the couch, surprising Yifan when he suddenly knelt beside it, brushed some of Chanyeol's hair from his forehead, and whispered, “I'm sorry, Yeol. Don't hate me too much when when you wake up, okay?”
Yifan shared a look with Sehun, and they both shrugged. The half German had a good side, too. It was just that people tended to forget about it because it always got overshadowed by his wild, untamable side.
“Is there anything I can do?” asked Jun, who had been standing quietly beside Yifan this whole time. He had a worried frown and a cute pout.
“You can fetch a glass of water and some aspirin for when Chanyeol wakes up.”
Jun just gave a nod before making his way to the kitchen.
“I think we should move him to the guest room,” suggested Sehun, to which Yifan replied, “I was actually just about to say that.”
Once again, Yifan lifted Chanyeol into his arms (he could get used to this), and followed Sehun to the guest room.
The apartment was quite spacious, and actually too big for just one person, but he wasn't one to talk because his own penthouse was about ten times as massive.
When they reached their destination, Sehun opened the door, clapped thrice to adjust the automatic illumination system to its lowest setting, and ushered him in.
The room was done in a chic, modern fashion with a lot of tasteful monochrome décor. A furry jet black rug covered a good area in the middle of the room, and on it was a Queen-sized bed with stark white sheets, a duvet the shade of ivory, and sable and chiffon pillows. There were two bedside tables, obsidian with a mirrored high-gloss finish, and on them were two unlit lamps. One part of the pearlescent painted wall, where the bed's headboard was pushed against, had a swirl patterned wallpaper, while the rest of it was bare, except for a few frames hanging. Off to the right side was a cream colored, upholstered armchair with a long foot rest to match.
All in all, it was very nice. Yifan wouldn't mind sleeping in it, but it sadly wasn't meant for him, nor could he share it.
He walked up to the left side of the bed and waited for Sehun to pull the duvet down before slowly setting Chanyeol onto the mattress.
A soft sound escaped the deeply slumbering redhead as his head made contact with the fluffy pillow, and Yifan couldn't help the half-smile that pulled up one corner of his mouth.
“Uh, would you mind looking after him for a while? I'll go prepare some warm towels and see if Jun found where I keep my first aid kit.”
'I wouldn't mind looking after him forever,' was what he wanted to say, but instead he just shrugged and said, “Sure, no prob.”
“Thanks. I'll be right back.”
As Sehun turned around, he was positive there was a knowing smile on the half Russian's face, and it brought a bit of color to Yifan's cheeks. Did they already know about him and Chanyeol?
Well, there was nothing between them (yet), but the fact that he was seriously crushing on someone thirteen years younger (Jaejoong told him that Chanyeol just turned 21 last November) was still quite embarrassing. He didn't want them to think he was a dirty old e or something, even if Chanyeol was an adult by all standards.
His musings were interrupted by Jun entering the room with a tray holding a glass of water, a bottle of aspirin, and a wet towel.
“Hey, Sasha suddenly had to take a call so...”
“Yeah, it's fine. Just put them right here.” He gestured to the left bedside table, and Jun did as instructed.
Afterward, the teenager straightened up and studied the sleeping redhead.
“He actually looks quite peaceful. I think he'll be fine. Yeolliepop is very resilient.”
Jun's words brought another fond smile to his face. It made him happy to know that Chanyeol was a fighter, just like…
“Hey, I gotta go and at least send my mom a message. I know he's worried sick.”
Yifan had to raise an eyebrow at that. “Why? Doesn't he know you're here?”
“He probably does because I know he tracks my phone's GPS, but we sort of had an argument earlier and I just stormed out of the house after.” He didn't miss the change in Jun's tone, and the way he bit his bottom lip. The kid often did it unconsciously when something was deeply bothering him.
Yifan decided not to pry. There was no way Heechul wouldn't rant to them about it one of these days. “I see. Alright, go ahead.”
“Will you be fine in here?”
“I guess so. Where's Luhan?”
“Binge eating ice cream and cheesecake. He does that when he's ridden with guilt.”
“Yeah, and then complain incessantly about all the extra calories that he has to burn off.”
“That's Lu-jie for you.”
They both snickered at the same time, quietly so that they wouldn't disturb Princess Aurora on the bed.
“Alright, we'll be outside if you need anything. Or if Chanderella starts to convulse.”
Yifan pulled his own version of what they called nowadays as a 'stank face'. He didn't know what it was exactly but it served its purpose. “Wrong fairy tale. And I'm a grown man, I know how to deal with an emergency.”
Jun stuck his tongue out at him before the closing the door and leaving him alone again with Chanyeol.
Contrary to what he just told Jun, it didn't take long before Yifan felt panic start to rise because he couldn't decide whether to wait for Sehun to come back or just tend to Chanyeol himself.
Should he? But that would require at least untying Chanyeol's robe and…
No, he wasn't sure he could accomplish that without getting affected down there. The only logical solution was to wait for Sehun.
With a resolute nod, Yifan moved to the other side of the room, removed his trench coat because he was starting to get sweaty, and plopped down on the armchair. He took his iPhone out of his pocket and proceeded to play a game of Angry Birds to distract himself. It was the only mobile phone game he played and he was stupidly good at it. Probably because he was an angry bird himself (Jun's words).
He'd been slaying those damn vomit-colored pigs like a boss for about 10 minutes when he heard a soft moan and the sound of sheets shuffling.
Yifan froze, just as the giant piggy fortress crumbled into pieces.
Another moan, this time louder and longer.
He locked his phone without quitting the game, and slowly raised his head to check what was going on with Chanyeol.
And felt every bit of air getting knocked out of his lungs as if he had just been dealt a lethal blow to the gut.
Yifan refused to believe he was awake. He had to be dreaming, because Chanyeol writhing in bed with his back arched and his legs spread only ever happened in the privacy of his unconscious mind.
To make it worse, the short kimono robe Chanyeol was wearing had pretty much come off, thus revealing the corset lingerie he was wearing underneath.
It was… gossamery and lacy. It didn't exactly display everything for everyone to see, but it was more than enough to leave Yifan a guy wanting. Chanyeol's figure was exquisitely accentuated, all sweet and gentle curves, and the midnight hue of the corset made the most perfect contrast to his smooth rose-tinged alabaster skin.
Yifan's mouth went bone-dry in a matter of seconds. He shut it when he realized it was agape and swallowed a few times.
Oh God. Where the hell was Sehun? He couldn't simply stay here and pretend this wasn't arousing him. .
If this was a test, he was almost certain he'd fail it. While his brain wasn't entirely clouded with lust yet, he had to get out of here. A carrier's pheromones and their effects weren't to be taken lightly. The experience was akin to being trapped in a spell. He knew because he'd been there. Zitao had managed to get him to cancel an important business trip once by releasing them and overwhelming him enough to disobey his own common sense. It was unlikely that Chanyeol's pheromones were as potent as Zitao's*, but he was a carrier all the same.
Yifan quickly stood up from his seat and made a beeline for the door, but before he could grab the lever handle, a dulcet, desperate plea stopped him in his tracks.
“Kris, don't go… Help me...”
He was surprised Chanyeol was able to identify him. He'd expected the redhead's thoughts to be murkier and disjointed due to the absinthe.
Against his better judgment, Yifan glanced over his shoulder, and nearly choked at the scene before him.
The hazel eyed vixen was in the process of unhooking the busk of his corset one by one. Thankfully, he started from the bottom, or else his chest would've been completely exposed already.
“Wait, Chanyeol, what are you doing?” Yifan marched back to Chanyeol's side of the bed to stop the younger from whatever the he thought he was doing before it got any worse.
Chanyeol's breathing was quick and heavy. “Hot… It's so hot...”
“Alright, alright, you'll be fine. How about we just cool you off with a wet towel?”
Chanyeol fortunately stopped stripping and nodded his head. There were only two more hooks holding his corset together. They looked like they would pop off any minute, seeing as the cups barely held Chanyeol's s in. They're definitely some of the most bountiful pairs he had ever seen a carrier possess, perhaps second only to Sehun's.
It took all of his willpower to avert his admittedly hungry gaze from them, but he successfully managed it without hurting himself. Because to refrain from doing what should have been natural to him was an almost physical pain. He never had to hold himself back from anything he desired.
Chanyeol was the exception. Always. He'd just have to get used to that, it seemed. He still hadn't earned the right to touch.
Yifan sighed resignedly and reached for the towel sitting on the tray. It was probably good that it had now gone cold.
He took a deep breath and sent a quick prayer to whoever deity was listening to give him strength and self-control. Lots of it.
With shaking hands, Yifan reached down to gently dab at the beads of perspiration that had formed on Chanyeol's forehead and the sides of his face.
The redhead's eyes fluttered closed, long lashes beautifully fanning his cheeks, as he let out a soft, satisfied mewl that went straight to Yifan's crotch. This was just the beginning, and if Chanyeol kept making these noises, Yifan doubted he'd be able to keep this strictly impersonal until the end.
He cleared his throat as if to ask for permission before lowering the cloth to Chanyeol's neck and upper chest, catching the tiny drops of sweat before they slid further down into a territory that he wouldn't dare venture into.
From what he could observe, Chanyeol seemed to be calming down, at least, and a few minutes later, his breathing had gone back to normal.
“How do you feel?” Yifan voice was a quiet, dark and sensual basso profondo that definitely wasn't on purpose, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't like how it made Chanyeol's breath hitch.
The redhead his moist, bitten red lips as he whispered, “Better. Thank you.”
“You're welcome.” And if the extremely low-pitched quality of Yifan's voice was intentional this time, that would be his own secret to keep.
Chanyeol was looking up at him now, his normally wide doe eyes half-lidded, hazy and unfocused. His pupils were noticeably dilated even under the dim lighting of the room. Yifan knew he was still very much intoxicated.
And then the redhead smiled at him, somehow making it look both seductive and innocent at the same time, and Yifan cursed mentally in every language that he knew because this was very bad for the monster in his pants.
Not to mention the fact that Chanyeol was practically on the bed. He needed a distraction.
Yifan allowed his eyes to roam around. The aspirin. AHA.
“Before I forget, you should take these.” He grabbed the white bottle and took two tablets before holding his palm out to Chanyeol. “It'd help a lot.”
But his pretty little vixen just looked at it, and then back at him.
OK, did that mean what Yifan thought it did?
His question was answered when Chanyeol suddenly opened his mouth, clearly expecting for Yifan to personally feed the meds to him.
And just like that, Yifan's spirit left his body. Goodbye, world. But hey, at least he died a happy man, and he could say that he left his mark, enough to be a part of history books ten years from now. His only regret was that he didn't even get to take Chanyeol on a date.
Unfortunately, he didn't stay dead as he was brought back to life two seconds later. By Chanyeol's whining.
He looked down at the redhead and saw that he still had his mouth open expectantly. Yifan felt light-headed, but at least he didn't die anymore. He might faint, though.
Before that could happen, Yifan made a snap decision for the sake of his waning sanity and well-being. He clicked his tongue and said, “I can't do this. Wait here, I'll call for backup.” Yes, he was aware that he just referred to the other three as 'backup' but that really was the least of his concerns.
He placed the tablets down on the bedside table and pivoted on his heel. He would've succeeded in finally leaving the damned room if not for the sniffling that soon followed.
Oh . Very slowly, Yifan turned his head, and just as he thought, Chanyeol was crying.
Crying. Holy Tim Hortons.
Was this his fault? Did he really just make Chanyeol cry when they hadn't even been on a single ing date?
Well, he couldn't possibly leave now, so Yifan had no choice but to walk back and gently sit on the bed. He could at least attempt to console the Weeping Beauty. Yifan snickered in his own head because he was so funny (though if he said it out loud no one would have laughed).
“Hey, why are you crying? Was it something I did?” He asked in the most tender voice he could manage, reaching out to wipe the priceless liquid diamonds that steadily made their way down Chanyeol's rosy cheeks. He looked ing beautiful like this, but no one deserved these tears, especially not him (even if it was only because Chanyeol was drunk as ).
Chanyeol tremulously replied, “K-Kris ii-is st-stupid. Ch-Chanyeol doesn't l-like you anym-more. Go away!” Sweet baby Jesus his princess was speaking in third person, and damn if that wasn't the most adorable thing he'd ever heard. Yifan felt his spirit about to separate from his body again, but he held on to it.
“Why? I only want to call for your friends,” he explained with utmost patience, as if he was actually dealing with a small child.
Chanyeol started shaking his head back and forth, much like a child would. “Nooo~ Chanyeol doesn't want stupid friends, just Kris, but Kris doesn't like Chanyeol. Go away!”
Wait. What. WHAT?!
“Chanyeol, listen. I might be misinterpreting all this, but did you just say that you like me?”
The ginger shot him the cutest glare in the history of glares. Yifan wasn't the least bit intimidated. “No.”
Ah, but that answer didn't sit well with him. Chanyeol couldn't just take it back.
Yifan did his own mock-pout. “But you just said you did. That's not fair.”
“You're not fair. You have someone like… someone like...” Chanyeol's nose scrunched adorably, struggling to remember a name, most likely.
“Someone like?” Yifan prompted.
It took a few seconds before Chanyeol said, “Zitao.” More like spat it out, actually. There was so much salt in that one word.
Yifan blinked, trying to wrap his mind around the reason why Chanyeol would be salty about his ex-beau. “Zitao? You mean Huang Zitao?”
“Yes, who else?” Chanyeol's glare intensified, but he still looked cuter than a baby otter. (What? Yifan liked otters.)
Yifan held up a hand as his eyebrows furrowed. “I'm confused. How did you even find out about Zitao?”
Chanyeol let out an irritated squeal, weakly pushing him away. Yifan didn't even budge. “Doesn't matter! Zitao is beautiful and perfect. Chanyeol is not. Kris doesn't like Chanyeol. So go away!”
There was truth in his words, because Zitao was arguably one of the most exquisite carriers to ever bless this miserable planet with their existence, but Yifan still did not understand why Chanyeol would feel that way.
“What made you think I don't like you?”
“Zitao!”
“Zitao told you that?”
“Noooo! Stupid! Get out!”
“I won't until you explain it. What did Zitao do?”
“Nothing!”
“If it's nothing, then why are you acting like that?”
“Because!” Chanyeol then turned away from him, but not before picking up his discarded robe and hastily wrapping it around himself, and then curling up into a ball.
Yifan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. How did things even end up like this? Although it was a given that Chanyeol was drunk and irrational, he'd never experienced dealing with his kind of drunk before. One minute he was all wanton and kitten-ish, and the next he was weepy and pissy and childish. Couldn't he pick just one?
And then a good idea popped into his head. He didn't know if it'd work, but it was worth a try.
“Alright,” Yifan said, making sure to sound dejected, “if you don't wanna talk to me, I'll go ahead and call Sehun or Luhan here to take my place. Stay put.”
Yifan was already on his feet when he was suddenly yanked back down by the arm onto the mattress with surprising strength. His plan worked, but Yifan didn't get the chance for a mental victory dance because he almost reeled with what happened next.
As if Yifan's death earlier wasn't enough, Chanyeol tried to kill him again by crawling into his lap and straddling him, before wrapping both skinny arms around his neck.
His robe had fallen off, and was now pooled around his hips and thighs. The ginger beauty was staring at him with unshed tears in his beautiful, beautiful hazel eyes, luscious candy lips quivering. The effect was all the more gut-wrenching as their faces were mere inches apart, meaning he could see everything in HD.
So today was apparently 'Kill Kris Wu Yifan Slowly' day. He obviously didn't get the memo, otherwise he would've avoided leaving the safety of his penthouse at all costs.
“What are you doing?” Yifan finally asked when he found his voice again, glad that it came out steady, if a little breathy.
Chanyeol swung his head back and forth in an exaggerated motion, looking so young and yet possessing such a sinful body. And if this didn't stop now, he'd be committing a grave one very soon.
“I don't know. All I know is that I don't want you to go.” Well, he considered it a small mercy that Chanyeol wasn't referring to himself in the 3rd person anymore. Yifan didn't think he could deal with more of that without literally losing his mind. He was already too far gone as it was.
“I'm not going anywhere.”
“You promise?”
Instead of verbalizing, Yifan decided to make the boldest move he had done so far by tilting his head up to leave a chaste kiss on Chanyeol's forehead. His lips lingered for a short moment that felt much longer, and when he pulled back, the redhead's eyes were still shut.
He meant it. He wasn't going anywhere.
When Chanyeol opened his eyes again, they were glimmering with something Yifan couldn't quite put a finger on, and he was smiling. He swore he'd never seen a smile brighter or more beautiful than Chanyeol's.
“So do you like me more than Zitao?” The bewitching carrier asked in a small voice that Yifan didn't expect he'd be capable of.
His response was instantaneous. It didn't even require contemplation. “Of course, why would you – OK, who told you about Zitao?”
Chanyeol's plump bottom lip jutted out into a pout. “Luhan.”
Yifan wanted to facepalm but his hands were holding Chanyeol in place so that he wouldn't fall since they were close to the edge of the mattress. Instead, he settled for a deadpan, “I'm not even surprised anymore.”
The redhead broke into giggles, a reminder that Chanyeol was still actually pretty buzzed. “Luhan is crazy.”
“That he is. I don't know what he told you, but Zitao and I ended our relationship two years ago. You don't have anything to worry about.”
Chanyeol nodded in understanding, and for a moment there he almost looked sober. “I know.”
“Then why did you keep insisting that I like him better?”
The younger shyly turned away, mumbling, “Why wouldn't you? He's incredible. He's beautiful and intelligent. Why did you leave him?”
Yifan snorted, shaking his head. “I can't believe I'm even having this discussion with you right now when you probably won't even recall most of it by tomorrow. But to answer your question, Zitao and I were not compatible. Our breakup was a mutual decision.” He spoke slowly so that his angel would be able to follow.
He waited for Chanyeol to soak it in, and hoped that he'd be satisfied with his explanation. Yifan would be willing to answer these questions in more detail should Chanyeol ask them again, preferably when he wasn't under the influence of ing absinthe.
“Okay,” said the redhead finally, bobbing his head up and down with his lips pursed, causing his dimples to appear. Yifan's abdomen tightened upon seeing them, but he thankfully kept the groan from spilling forth. It was one of his greatest weaknesses.
However, it would seem that their impromptu interview was far from over, as Chanyeol asked yet another question…
“Why do you like me?”
While Yifan couldn't say that he didn't expect that, he didn't think it would come this soon. He might as well give an honest answer because Chanyeol was in a vulnerable state of mind, judging from what happened not ten minutes ago.
Yifan removed one hand from its grip on Chanyeol's hip and brought it up to cup the side of his delicate face. The soft, petal-like skin felt wonderful against Yifan's rough, calloused ones. He also didn't fail to notice how his hand was bigger than Chanyeol's entire face, but then again, his hands were bigger than everything.
The redhead leaned into the touch and smiled, his beautiful face the picture of pure bliss.
How Yifan wished this was all real. That Chanyeol was doing this, allowing this, because he really wanted to, and not because his inhibitions were nonexistent due to alcohol.
It didn't matter, though. If Chanyeol ended up avoiding him for the rest of their lives, at least Yifan had this moment.
He watched Chanyeol watching him—the sparkle in his enchanting hazel eyes, the gentle slope of his nose, the lush fullness of his pretty pink lips, the healthy flush of his velvety skin, his titillating nectarous scent, how he was so effortlessly beautiful it hurt…
Those were some of the things that initially attracted him to Chanyeol. But then he learned about his sass, his innocence, his bubbly personality, his love of teddy bears, and his surprisingly provocative side…
He was different, and he might be the kind of different Yifan had been unknowingly searching for his whole life.
There was so much more he wanted to know, like how he was when he was angry or upset, the things that made him laugh, and those that made him cry; what his childhood dream was, his hobbies, his favorite food, and everything he was passionate about.
But most of all, Yifan wanted to know how Chanyeol would be like when he truly fell in love.
He didn't know how to condense all of that into something that would make sense, but he was going to try because Chanyeol deserved a good answer.
So Yifan began. “I -”
“Shh...” He was interrupted by Chanyeol putting a finger on his lips. “That's good enough.”
“What? But I haven't -”
“You were saying that out loud.”
Probably for the first time in all his 34 years of existence, Yifan turned an impossible shade of red from head to toe. Was this how Chanyeol felt earlier at the rooftop deck? He now understood very well. Yifan himself wanted to magically disappear.
“I'm...sorry,” was the only thing he was able to say.
Chanyeol giggled for the umpteenth time. Yifan didn't peg him as the giggly type of person, so perhaps it was still the alcohol. He sure seemed sober enough, though.
“Don't be. That was extremely flattering but… Did you really mean all of it?”
For this, he knew he had to look the redhead straight in the eyes, and that's what he did. His own deep mercurial orbs against sweet doe-like hazel. “Absolutely.”
He felt Chanyeol's sharp intake of breath more than he heard it, as there was barely an inch of space between their bodies.
Yifan waited for the other to react to that in whatever way he wanted to. There was something he was aching to do, but he would let Chanyeol decide. He wasn't going to make another move.
After a moment of hesitation, Chanyeol brought his face closer to his. Yifan could feel the warmth of Chanyeol's breath against his lips.
“Kris?”
“Hmm?”
“Would you like to kiss me?”
Yifan chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. Chanyeol shivered in his arms. “That's no longer a question, babe. But is that what you want?”
He saw it when Chanyeol swallowed nervously. They were so, so close. “I don't know. I don't know what I'm doing, or what I'm saying, and I'm so confused and it's my first kiss and I know I'm going to mess it up so badly but...”
“If you feel even the slightest bit unsure about this, we're not going to do anything. You're just going to take the aspirin and then it's off to bed for you.”
He let Chanyeol ponder it for a while, because the last thing he wanted to do was to pressure the redhead into doing something he wasn't actually ready for and end up regretting it. Or worse, hating him.
When Chanyeol spoke again, he simply said, “Okay...”
Yifan was quite disappointed at that, but he wasn't going to let it show. This wasn't about him, anyway. And he did say that he was going to respect Chanyeol's decisions. “Alrighty, then. Let's -”
It happened so quickly he barely had time to register it.
Chanyeol's lips were now pressed against his. They were even softer that he'd imagined they would be, softer than even Zitao's, or anybody else he'd ever locked lips with. They weren't moving at all, and it was completely innocent and al and everything that Chanyeol was, but it was still one of the nicest sensations he'd felt in a while.
Sadly, it was over as soon as it began, and Yifan wanted more, but he couldn't just initiate another one.
“That was what I meant when I said okay,” Chanyeol whispered, the bloom on his cheeks ten times as prominent, his pupils blown wide.
“Yeah, I kind of figured that,” replied Yifan, but there was no humor in his tone. His mind was still on the kiss they just shared, Chanyeol's first, and that realization just made him crave even harder.
Thankfully, Chanyeol seemed to be thinking the same thing. “Can we do that again?”
“Are you sure?”
“God, yes.”
And Yifan took that as a sign to go for it, tilting his head and slotting his mouth against Chanyeol's plaint ones the proper way, but taking it very slowly so as not to overwhelm the younger.
He captured Chanyeol's upper lip between his, and waited for him to do the same thing to Yifan's bottom one, before pressing a bit harder.
It was, of course, quite sloppy at first, but Chanyeol was a quick study. He was soon moving along with Yifan's lips with more precision, and seemed to be getting more and more confident.
Introducing the tongue seemed like a natural progression at that point, so Yifan did just that. He started with small and nips, until Chanyeol got the idea and opened his mouth wider with a short gasp.
Yifan went in for the kill. He pressed the eager muscle into Chanyeol's hot, wet cavern, and focused on tasting. There were remnants of tequila, but most of it had been washed out already. Perhaps Chanyeol drank lots of water earlier. Most of what he could recognize was something that he decided was purely Chanyeol, a mild flavor that reminded him of citrus and vanilla – something that he could definitely get addicted to.
The redhead's own tongue was a lot shier, barely moving to meet his, but the determination was there. Yifan decided to be more aggressive, not too much, but just enough to get Chanyeol to be bolder.
He then felt Chanyeol adjust himself on his lap and tighten his arms around his neck. He reciprocated by gripping both sides of the carrier's voluptuous hips with his hands again and pulling him even closer, so that Chanyeol was now sitting directly on top of his crotch.
Chanyeol moaned at the hardness that couldn't possibly be anything else, but he didn't break the kiss. Yifan liked that he didn't seem to be completely terrified.
When air became a necessity, he slowed down to a few butterfly kisses, before pulling away completely. There was a string of saliva connecting their lips, as well as a bit of dribble on Chanyeol's chin, so Yifan dived back in to it away.
The younger was panting harshly, lips deliciously swollen and red, red, red. He looked mostly accomplished, like he couldn't believe he just succeeded in doing what they just did, but there was a smidgen of insecurity in there as well.
Before Chanyeol could ask, Yifan brushed his worries off with, “You were great. In fact, if I didn't know better, I'd say that wasn't your first kiss.”
His teasing remark earned him a slap on the chest, but Chanyeol was smiling.
“Shut up.”
Yifan only shrugged and gave no warning as he stood up, taking Chanyeol along with him, who squealed at the unexpected movement.
“What are you doing?!”
“You do realize you've been sitting on my lap for almost 20 minutes now, right? They're starting to go numb.”
Chanyeol blushed, but placed his feet down on the rug and unwrapped his arms from Yifan's neck.
He looked down to measure their height difference, but instead got distracted by the current state of Chanyeol's lingerie. “Uhhh, you might also want to fix your corset. I mean, I am enjoying the view immensely but -”
The redhead's eyes widened in horror. “ert!” Chanyeol covered his chest with one arm and picked up his robe with the other.
“Hey, if I was, I wouldn't -”
“Just shut up and turn around.”
Yifan did a mock salute before doing a snappy about face. He could hear some shuffling, and then the sound of the corset's busk getting hooked back together, and finally the robe being tied up.
He was just about to ask if it was fine to look now, but Chanyeol had already plopped back on the mattress.
Yifan observed as the redhead picked up the tablets on the bedside table, popped them into his mouth, and took two large gulps of water to wash it down.
Chanyeol then brought his slender, mile-long legs up and leaned against the headboard, before looking up at him again.
“How do you feel?” Yifan asked quietly for the second time that evening, also taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
Chanyeol hummed, before saying, “My head is a bit clearer, but there's still a dull throbbing.”
“Then you should probably get some rest now.”
“I know.”
“I also need to head back to my place. I have an early start tomorrow. First meeting is at 8 o'clock sharp.” Yifan checked his Audemars Piguet and saw that it was already 15 minutes to 12 midnight.
Chanyeol opened his mouth, closed it, shook his head, and said, “Okay. You should get going, then.”
“Yeah.”
Yifan rose up, and walked to the other side of the room to retrieve his trench coat. He put it back on as slowly as possible, because he didn't actually want to leave Chanyeol yet.
As he was buttoning it up, he felt a presence coming up behind him, and smirked when Chanyeol wrapped his arms around his chest and pressed his head against his back.
“What's the matter, babe?”
His precious jewel didn't respond immediately, but when he did, his voice sounded thick and raspy, like he was about to cry. “I just… I'm afraid I will forget all of this tomorrow, or worse, regret it and… I don't want to.” Chanyeol let out a humorless laugh.
“I can't believe I'm saying this but… I like this… A lot.”
Yifan turned around s an arm around Chanyeol's waist, before tilting the younger's face up with his free hand. “Then I won't let you forget about it.” He then pressed their lips together once more, keeping it simple because if he didn't, he might never leave.
When they broke apart, Chanyeol gazed straight into his eyes and asked, “What does this make us?”
Yifan tenderly ran his fingers through Chanyeol's silky light auburn locks as he said, “Whatever you want.”
Chanyeol crinkled his nose cutely, clearly unsatisfied, so he elaborated, “I just mean that I don't want you to feel like I'm forcing you into anything. We sort of just took a great leap here, and it's possible that when you wake up tomorrow, you might end up regretting it…” He trailed off, bringing his other hand up so that he could cradle Chanyeol's head with both of them.
“But as long as you're willing to give us a chance, I won't give up on you.”
Chanyeol smiled then, the most beautiful one Yifan had ever seen him make so far, and he found himself thanking gods and deities that he didn't even believe in for bringing them together. He didn't care if their status was pretty much tentative as of the moment. He had a feeling it would change soon.
“Thank you,” Chanyeol whispered, standing on his tiptoes to kiss him again, and call Yifan insane, but he stopped it.
As expected, the younger frowned, more in confusion than anything.
“If you do that again, I won't be able to let go of you anymore, so it's better that we don't.”
Chanyeol turned a lovely shade of red but gave a nod of understanding. “Got it.”
Instead, Yifan took both of Chanyeol's much smaller hands into his own, and dropped kisses on each of them.
“Okay, now I really have to go.”
“I'll walk you to the door.”
“No, you stay here.”
They shared a look, and Chanyeol understood immediately. He stepped back and said nothing else as Yifan finally turned around, walked to the short distance to the door, and exited the room.
Yifan was sad to leave, but his heart was practically soaring. It sounded so lame, but he didn't care.
When he reached the living room, he found the other three still awake and chatting. He could swear Luhan was spouting gibberish, though, but he didn't pay it any mind because it was Luhan.
“Uh, I'm going ahead, guys.”
“Oh, so soon? Don't you want to at least have something to drink?” Sehun offered, although the pleasantness seemed to be exaggerated.
If Yifan suspected that something was off, he ignored it because nothing was allowed to ruin his perfect evening. “No, I'm good. Thank you, anyway.”
“Alright, then. I guess we'll see each other around.”
“Of course. Good night.”
“You too.”
All three walked him to the door, and Jun gave him a kiss on the cheek as a farewell.
“Byeeeee! Take care on the way home!” Luhan yelled, which he returned with a two- salute before finally stepping into the elevator.
He was grinning like an idiot the entire way down.
Dennis and Adrien alternated from side-eyeing him to looking at each other questioningly as they escorted him to the Phantom, but Yifan excused their rudeness.
Life was good.
“Phew! That was close,” Luhan said when the elevator doors finally shut, wiping imaginary sweat off of his forehead.
Sehun slapped him on the shoulder. “What the hell were you saying back there? You made us look more suspicious with your nonsense babble,” the half Russian hissed.
“But you said to make it look like we were just chatting!”
“I meant to use actual words, not ing gibberish.”
“I'm sorry, I panicked!”
The three of them were eavesdropping the entire time using the drinking glasses technique, and had heard pretty much everything.
Jun got between them. “OK, ladies, calm down. At least we were able to confirm that there is something between them now.”
Luhan covered his mouth with a hand and fake cried. “I know, I feel like a proud mother. Yeollie is finally growing up!”
“Keep it down, he might hear us,” Sehun whispered harshly.
“OK, so what do we do?” Jun asked.
Sehun rolled his eyes. “Nothing. We watch and see how it will progress. We will only interfere when it's absolutely necessary. And I mean only when it's necessary.” He shot a pointed look at Luhan, who just blinked innocently.
“I don't know what you're saying. I want more cake.”
With that, the half German walked away, leaving the other two in the foyer with identical looks of disbelief.
“Let's just make sure he doesn't things up,” Sehun said, and Jun nodded in agreement.
A/N: So they finally kissed. And had a full-blown makeout session. How many of you saw that coming? LOL Are things going to be smooth-sailing from here on out? I don't know. XDDD
Hello to all of my new subscribers, and thank you for your interest in this abominable piece of crap. Enjoy. XD And to everybody else who commented or upvoted, thank you. Lots of love to you, guys. <3
This is probably the shortest A/N I've ever written, but I surprisingly don't really have a lot to say today. Or it might be due to the fact that I've only had a few hours of sleep. I'm planning to take a long nap in the afternoon, so it's fine. Thank God, it's Sunday. -_-
See you next chapter~!
Notes:
Everclear – for those of you who don't know, it's one of the most alcoholic beverages available in the market. It's either 151-proof (75.5% ABV) or 190-proof (95% ABV). Luhan used the latter. XD I assume most of you already know what Absinthe is, but if you don't, Google is your friend.
Pheromones – or to be precise, Zitao's. So basically, all carriers have stronger pheromones than everybody else, but Zitao is one of those who can release them at will. Another one capable of it is Jaejoong. This is what I mean when I said that even amongst carriers, they are rare. They could also be dangerous, because they can literally control anyone with it, but of course men are more susceptible. It's not magic. I just exaggerated it. LOL
I might pick this up again, but I'm making no promises. I'll be more candid about the things that happened over the last 2 years IF I decide to continue where I left off. It's pretty much 50/50 at this moment. The only thing that I can tell you for sure is that Chapter 11 exists in my drafts.
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