Small, white, and cute (1/1)

It took quite a while for Baekhyun to realize that he was already awake and was going through what he had permitted to happen the night before. They had gone far too intimate last night. It was a bit unnerving—no not a bit, it was definitely. The way Chanyeol's hands gently roamed around his body, touching him in places that Baekhyun didn't even know he wanted to be touched. The way Chanyeol made Baekhyun crave for him. The way Chanyeol kissed him last night. His heart was beating fast. He could still feel Chanyeol's lips in his. And he could feel his face burning. He almost jolted up if not for the arm—heavy arm—on his waist, holding him close to another person's body that he already knew so well. Slowly, he opened his eyes and blinked a couple of times. He looked down and was startled. Of course, who wouldn't be startled when they found Chanyeol's left leg in between his own? Baekhyun gulped, swallowing his rising temper. He turned his face to Chanyeol, glaring, and found that their faces were so close that if Baekhyun would want to kiss the sleeping male, all he had to do was shift to the right angle and their lips would meet. But then, who the hell said that he wanted to kiss Chanyeol? Something inside of him, though, was telling him to just kiss Chanyeol, and that it's okay, he's asleep, he wouldn't know. Faster than he could blink, Chanyeol pulled him closer. Their noses bumped and there was a half second or maybe a half of a half of a second—Baekhyun couldn’t be sure—that their lips were pressed against each other. And Baekhyun could feel his heart wanting to get the fuck out of his rib cage. And he was this close to screaming asdfghjkl but he can't because he felt as if he had swallowed down his tongue. Eyes wide and panting, Baekhyun looked away. But it was only a kiss. Just a kiss. It was just that and he was feeling something crawling under his skin. Why the fuck was he so nervous? In his mind, he was already listing ways of how to get the fuck out of the bed without the bastard waking up and pinning him back down. Every one of what he had thought of failed as he imagined doing it. But well, he could just slowly pry Chanyeol's limbs off of him and if he ever wakes up, Baekhyun can switch to his bitchy I-don't-give-a-damn early morning mood and walk out of the house. That would probably work. Except. Except...he was wearing only Chanyeol's white big-ass shirt and boxers. If he walked out of the room wearing only that and Mr. Cho and the maids saw him…that is…that can’t happen.   Some hours earlier... Chanyeol cursed as the crescent shaped marks on his shoulders, that Baekhyun had tartly imprinted, stung. If Baekhyun was any other person, Chanyeol would probably throw him out the window right after what he did but then, Baekhyun wasn’t just any other person. “Damn it.” He ruffled his hair and frowned at his face in the mirror before walking out of the bathroom. He stopped dead in his track when he found Baekhyun with his back at him with the towel wrapped around his waist. Suddenly, the stinging marks on his shoulders and back didn’t matter anymore—well it didn’t really matter from the start. The raven haired crossed his arms, cocked his head to the side and whistled. When Baekhyun turned to face him, there was a flash of embarrassment in his face before it turned to a scowl, then he was glaring—although his face was sporting a few shades of pink down to his neck, which startled Chanyeol a bit because Baekhyun’s pale skin made the kiss marks—which Chanyeol was proud of doing—glow. As quick as he could, the taller male composed himself. “You know, this is a bad idea.” “What? You wanting another round?” Chanyeol teased, raising a brow at the brunet. “Why do you always think of sex?” The taller shrugged and smirked. “You want an honest answer? You make me want to think of it.” Then he wriggled his eyebrows at the petite male. “Seriously, Park Chanyeol.” Baekhyun huffed a breath and walked towards the bed and sat on the edge. “I don’t have clothes.” “You know you have the power to wear some of mine whether I agree or not.” Chanyeol said as a-matter-of-factly, walking to his closet to get some clothes for the princess. When Baekhyun’s mind processed what Chanyeol had said, he nodded to himself. Yeah, he could do whatever he likes, but what has stopped him? “Or do you want me to borrow some clothes from the maids downstairs?” The brunet glared the male who just dived on the bed, sending Baekhyun bouncing and falling to the floor. When he emerged from the floor, he found Chanyeol grinning at him and handed him the clothes. “Oops, sorry. Here’re your clothes, Milady.” Baekhyun clicked his tongue, immediately grabbing the clothes from Chanyeol’s hands. “Stop calling me that.” “Would you rather I call you princess?” “Fuck you.” “How about baby?” For a moment, he was stunned. “Shut up, Chanyeol.” Baekhyun pulled himself on his feet, proceeding to Chanyeol’s closet to get something else because he was sure that what Chanyeol had got him wouldn’t fit. But then, Chanyeol was a fucking giant. There’s nothing that would fit Baekhyun’s dwarf body. “Alright, I’m calling you love.” Chanyeol laughed as he settled comfortably on the bed. After a few minutes, Baekhyun gave up, cursing a certain guy to burn in hell for not having smaller clothes before proceeding to the bathroom to hide himself for a while. He was starting to hate himself for not bringing some clothes with him. He stayed there for quite a while. He didn’t want to go out. He didn’t want Chanyeol to see him. He didn’t want—he was starting to sound like a girl in a wedding dress. Why was he nervous anyway? He huffed a breath, forcing himself to relax and tried to stop his intestines from doing an infinite loop of somersaults. Maybe, he should just put on an act. Ha! Stupid. He hit his chest with a fist and walked out.   The taller male chuckled. “Hey, I don’t have anything that would fit you.” He opened his eyes and looked at the brunet. His heart almost stopped beating. Baekhyun grinned. “Gotcha,” he looked down his body saying, “I look like a fucking hanger,” then looked back at Chanyeol, “But it’s okay.” He fixed the too long shirt, which fell down only covering half of his thighs. Fuck my life for being so short but at least I’m sexy. He had convinced himself that he was doing this to get back at the raven haired male for biting him on the shoulder and for giving him big clothes—which wasn’t really Chanyeol’s problem but whatever. He was torturing Chanyeol with what he was doing but and he should be feeling bad but he couldn’t help but feel satisfied with the taller male’s reaction. With what the raven haired male had confessed earlier, Baekhyun now knew that Chanyeol wanted him, in a way. “Move,” Baekhyun ordered, which Chanyeol did. “You can stare but you can’t touch, alright?” He smirked before lying on the bed, tugging on the covers and hogging them all to himself, and then turned his back to the taller male, who was looking down at him in disbelief. “Hey, this is my room.” Chanyeol reminded him. How could this small guy just do whatever he wanted? “I never said it’s mine.” Chanyeol glared at the back of Baekhyun’s head, but knowing that he couldn’t do anything, he threw the shorts in whatever direction, not caring where it would land. He took off his shirt and threw them wherever he had thrown the shorts, he was too lazy to move, too lazy to do anything when this harpy of a guy was beside him. He made himself comfortable on his bed. He crossed his arms. A few seconds later, he couldn’t help it anymore. He pulled Baekhyun’s arm and said, “Hey, face me.” “No.” “Come on.” “I’m asleep.” Chanyeol clicked his tongue. “Baekhyun.” “Chanyeol. I can’t hear you.” “Cut the crap, Baek.” Chanyeol said and turned off all the lights in his room. “Why’d you turn the lights off?” “Because you wouldn’t face me. And because I want to see ghosts.” “…Chanyeol.” “What? I like ghosts. Especially those that walk around with chains cuffed around their ankle. And the headless ones who carries their heads in their hands. And the—” Chanyeol stopped breathing when, in a second, Baekhyun was suddenly facing him and wrapped an arm around his waist. He was trembling. “Stop it. Please.” Chanyeol suddenly felt stupid with what he did. He crossed the line. He felt worse when Baekhyun buried his face on his chest. The brunet was absolutely scared. “I’m—I’m sorry.” He kept on whispering his apology to Baekhyun until smaller stopped shaking. After a while, Baekhyun pulled away to look at Chanyeol’s face. He was glaring up at the taller. “How dare you scare me!” He started hitting Chanyeol on the chest. “And why the fuck are you naked! You bloody pervert!” “Ow—hey!” Chanyeol caught the hands that were hitting him and said, “I’m not completely naked. I just don’t wear a shirt when I sleep at night. And you’re in my house so deal with it.” “So why do you have to scare me?!” “That…I’m sorry.” Without waiting for a response, Chanyeol slowly let go of Baekhyun’s hands, a little reluctant because he liked holding the brunet’s soft hands, and turned to his side, facing away from Baekhyun. “Let’s sleep.” “No! No, I mean…I mean, you face me.” Baekhyun grabbed him and forced Chanyeol to face him. He grabbed Chanyeol’s hand and placed them on his side, “Since you take so much fun in scaring me, hold me like this. Don’t let go until I fall sleep.” It was the only command that night, well after their activity, that Chanyeol was willing to obey. “I’d take much more fun in holding you like this…” Then he leaned closer to Baekhyun so he could whisper, “…love.” Baekhyun scowled, and he knew Chanyeol saw his face when he did but he doesn’t care. “Shut up and sleep and don’t let go.” “Alright. I’m going to shut up, but I’m not yet going to sleep—I’ll savor this,” he gave Baekhyun’s side a gentle squeeze—the motherfucking pervert, Baekhyun thought—to prove his point. “And I won’t ever let go.” The brunet cooed sarcastically, as he reached up and gave Chanyeol’s cheek a hard pinch. “Aw, Chanyeol, that’s sweet of you. Now, let me sleep.” Baekhyun expected a good night as Chanyeol’s reply, but instead, he heard something that made him go red. “You look sexy in my shirt.”