fopsyche94 (fopsyche94) wrote,
fopsyche94
fopsyche94

It's Not A Bad Thing

Title: It’s Not a Bad Thing
Pairing/s: Yifan/Chanyeol
Genre: romance, slice of life
Warning/s: mpreg, age-gap
Wordcount: 8.7k
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Chanyeol is definitely not a husband material. But Yifan can’t stop wanting him. prequel to Make It Whole
A/N: this sucks so bad.


Among all the bizarre things Yifan had ever done, nothing beats dating a college student younger than him by eight years. Actually what makes it very astonishing is that the college kid bears the name of Park Chanyeol—six-feet-something brunette with attitude issues and elf-like ears— who’s able to drive Yifan insane. He comes from a whole different world (but honestly just from Geumcheon District). He floats in different social boat than him (of course!). In fact, they wouldn’t even come across each other if not through Yixing, Yifan’s beloved cousin.

His aunt had cried to Yifan one day, begging the uptight businessman to talk some sense out of Yixing who’s going through a phase of chasing his dream being a singer instead of running family’s restaurant. Yixing performs in cafes, bars, or even clubs and Yifan had to dig his unraveled detective skill to track the younger whereabouts. He eventually succeeded in cornering Yixing at this one shady night club often frequented by bunch of students.

Yifan, clad in his neatly pressed suit, only had the chance to open his mouth to confront Yixing when this slightly shorter boy coming up to them. He wore ridiculous combination of clothes that showed he wanted to look as fierce as T-Pain but somehow still looking like one of those K-Pop fairies. It probably had something to do with his cute big ears. Anyway, he came up to them and started screaming on Yifan’s ears about youth rights violation and that people need to be given chance to chase their dreams. He then pulled Yixing away from him and left, leaving Yifan dumbfounded.

Yifan came back to that club almost every night since that. But he couldn’t say Yixing was his sole reason for doing so.

He finally found out the kid’s name from whispers around the club (he’s got too much pride to ask Yixing directly). Park Chanyeol, a history major, and often DJ-ing at the said club. The worst revelation: the boy was only nineteen when Yifan first met him. The grown-up man was infatuated by a jailbait! Wu Yifan had always had himself on track but right then he found himself willing to risk it.

Of course Yifan being Yifan could only watch the younger silently in the corner, unable to create any move (he’s always been dubbed as the clumsiest hopeless romantic by his friends). That was until the monumental moment came to him. He’s about to leave the club after some more talks with Yixing (and sneaking glances at Chanyeol) when he’s suddenly pulled into a narrow deserted alleyway. He found his object of affection peering up at him with steady gaze.

“You’ve been looking at me a lot,” Chanyeol had whispered to his ear.

“Ugh—” Yifan replied oh-so-cleverly.

“You’re not exactly being subtle, old man.”

“I’m not that old,” Yifan squawked indignantly. “I’m—”

“Twenty-seven year old or something,” Chanyeol deadpanned. “I gathered from Yixing-hyung.”

“That guy—”

“I don’t mind, really.” The brunette leaned toward him. Yifan could smell his intoxicating body scent from the proximity. “You’re quite a sight.”

“Um, o-okay?”

“Okay?”

“Well, uh, okay.”

And just like that Chanyeol slid down to his knees then proceeded to give Yifan the most intense blowjob that blew his mind’s content. His life has never been the same ever since.




“My professor wants me to write a hundred pages essay about Goryeo Dinasty, ah—” Chanyeol’s entire body jolts when Yifan’s fingers brush against his prostate. “Like hell, as if I don’t have anything more important to attend.”

“Why do you even major in history if you keep complaining?” Yifan scissors his long fingers inside the younger’s tight wall. “And I’m not sure that you really have ‘anything more important to attend’.”

Chanyeol snorts. “First, I actually love history but I didn’t expect all these bullshits when I chose to study it in uni. Second, I do have more important things to attend.”

“Going to noraebang with Yixing or DJ-ing at clubs aren’t exactly significant compared to your study.”

“The old man strikes again,” Chanyeol teases.

He regrets it right away when Yifan abruptly pulls out his fingers. Chanyeol groans at the loss.

“Call me an old man once more.” Yifan bends down and presses his forehead on Chanyeol’s.

“Old man,” Chanyeol jests, grinning amusedly.

Yifan straightens up and shakes his head. “You’re not going to say that ever again once I’m thorough with you.” He then grabs a package of condom from the nightstand and rolls it over his hardened shaft.

“Okay,” Chanyeol just chuckles.

Yifan bends down again and gives him a hard peck on the lips before positioning himself. Chanyeol’s eyes widen when the flared head of Yifan’s cock nudges his opening.

“Wait, let me give myself an internal pep talk,” Chanyeol blurts.

Yifan grunts but stop moving, his rock hard cock is still aligned with Chanyeol’s prepped entrance. He pokes it repeatedly to the slick hole just to spike his lover and earns a hard swat on his sweaty arm in retaliation.

“Jackass,” Chanyeol hisses but he grinds back against the magic stick. “Why are you so, ugh, so hung? I feel like dying everytime we fuck.”

The blonde only laughs and kisses his much younger lover’s closed eyelid.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Chanyeol finally says, much to Yifan’s relief. He’s been dying (borrowing Chanyeol’s vocabulary) to drown himself in that perfect delicious heat that is Chanyeol.

Yifan pushes and pushes until his balls make a contact with the younger’s soft globes. Both of them sighing in bliss for finally becoming one. Yifan wants to wait for the smaller male to adjust but Chanyeol already fucking himself back on his cock. Damn, he can’t find it in himself some restraint and begin to snap his hips forward, fast and hard. He looks down to see his lover’s face—Chanyeol has his eyes shut and mouth opened wide to let out pleasured gasps. Yifan dips his tongue deep into the younger’s cavern, eagerly swallow those addicting sounds. Their hips movement never faltered, both are racing to reach their complexion.

He tries to angle his thrusts so it will hit the spot that surely going to turn Chanyeol wild. The brunette is more than willing to accommodate him, raising his hips to make the slides easier. The pliant body under him right now is a contrast of the owner’s personality. Chanyeol is anything but obedient when not in bed.

“Are you c-close?” Yifan asks after minutes have passed by.

“Y-yeah—” Chanyeol exhales shakily.

Yifan reaches down for Chanyeol’s cock, but to his surprise the dark-haired male bats his hand away.

“I want to come like this.” He whimpers when Yifan hits that one spot again. “Just by your hung monster.”

This college kid is going to be his death. The most sweet and blissful death he can ever ask. Yifan begins to drive his cock inside the warm hole in almost brutal pace—in and out, in and out. It seems like breathing is hard for Chanyeol because he lets out these hiccupy moans that spur Yifan even more. The younger begins screaming because of the intense pleasure Yifan gives him and in the matter of seconds he already blow his load against their stomachs. It takes longer for the older man to achieve his climax—he continues his crazy pace even after Chanyeol has fallen limp beneath him—until minutes later he empties himself into the condom.

Chanyeol mumbles incoherently when Yifan pulls out of him. The taller disposes the used condom and comes back to the bed with a wet rag. He cleans the mess on their bodies before throwing the cloth away. Yifan then peppers butterfly kisses all over Chanyeol’s face much to the younger’s dismay.

“Gross, stop it!” Chanyeol snaps at him, trying fruitlessly to push Yifan’s head away.

“Why?” Yifan gives a soft peck on those luscious lips. “Can’t we have post-coital cuddle like normal couple?”

“Those are for old people,” Chanyeol retorts. “I’m still twenty.”

“But I’m twenty-eight.”

“Which makes everything grosser, you cradle robber.” Chanyeol rolls away from him and wince. “I don’t think I can ever walk after this. You and your huge sperms factory are going to be the death of me.”

“Well, you and your ass had been listed as the reason of my death since months ago.”

“Die because of sex, what a sweet way,” Chanyeol yawns.

Yifan scoots closer, planning on spooning the sleepy male but Chanyeol just moves farther away from him.

“Don’t you dare.” Chanyeol glares playfully at him.

Yifan groans and lie still, frowning in frustration. He hears Chanyeol snicker and within the next seconds he already has a six-feet-tall young man in his arms—the younger’s dark brown locks tickling his mouth. Yifan smiles to himself because despite Chanyeol’s constant blabs about hating it, the elder just knows that he secretly loves cuddling with him.




Things between them progressing quiet fast, a bit too fast for Chanyeol’s liking. They went from no-strings-attached fucking to friendly outings on weekend and eventually to introducing each other as boyfriend with no single bat of eyelashes. He had never seen himself dating someone older than him, much less someone greasily sweet like Yifan. But here they are, almost a year into their relationship, and Chanyeol already has a trouble of picturing himself with other people. Not that he’s going to admit this to his boyfriend.

Man like Yifan has never been Chanyeol’s forte. Too much toothache inducing words, too much caring, too much commitment. Yifan is everything Chanyeol has not ready for. But he just can’t stop.

“Sweetheart, wake up.” Yifan shakes him gently. “You have a class in one hour.”

“I’m tired,” Chanyeol mumbles.

“Wake up!” Yifan keeps prodding him. “Come on, you don’t wanna be late.”

“Okay! Okay!” He rises when Yifan won’t stop. “Happy now?”

Yifan chortles and pinches Chanyeol’s nose. “Go wash up. I’m preparing breakfast.”

Chanyeol comes up from the bedroom minutes later, not as dead as before. He’s heading straight to the kitchen but stop at the doorway when he spots something. There’s a little creature perching on Chanyeol’s usual seat near the counter. Slowly, he makes his way toward Yifan who’s currently pouring orange juice to three different glasses.

“Ugh, Yifan,” Chanyeol says. “What is that?”

He doesn’t expect a whack on his head from his boyfriend. “Not a what—a who. And that’s Yiyun, Qian’s daughter.”

“What is she doing here?” Chanyeol questions, rubbing his head furiously.

“Qian needs to go to immigration office,” Yifan explains. “So I offer to drive Yiyun to the day care. Sit down, now.”

Chanyeol drags his feet to the counter and sit beside Yiyun tentatively. The little girl is eyeing him way too judgmentally for someone her age.

“‘Sup?” Chanyeol greets.

Yiyun just huffs in acknowledgement and returns her attention to her bowl. Chanyeol makes a face at her. It is calm for a moment until Chanyeol’s eyes catch the content of Yiyun’s bowl.

“Um, Yifan,” Chanyeol calls his (much) older boyfriend. “She’s eating my Cocoa Puffs.”

“She said she likes it.” Yifan just shrugs.

“But it’s the last serving!” Chanyeol grumbles petulantly.

Yifan rolls his eyes and walks over, putting a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon strips in front of him. “I’ll buy you as many Cocoa Puffs as you want. Eat this for now, Yeol.”

Chanyeol snorts but grabbing his fork nonetheless.

“Uncle Fan,” Yiyun says. “Where is my juice?”

“Here, baobei.” Yifan is quick to bring Yiyun her glass. She pats at the child’s head gently. “Are you still hungry? Do you want me to cut some strawberries for you? I still have some Nutella for you to dip the strawberries in.”

“Uncle Fan is the best!” Yiyun beams brightly.

Yifan chuckles and proceeds with his offer.

“I want strawberries and Nutella too,” Chanyeol pipes in.

“Okay.”

Chanyeol shifts his attention back to his breakfast but stops when he feels eyes on him. He looks up and sees Yiyun staring at him.

“What?”

“Uncle Fan’s boyfriend is like a child,” Yiyun replies.




Being told a child by a child takes a downturn for Chanyeol’s mood the entire day. That, plus seeing Yifan coos at Yiyun like the kid is made of rainbow and fairy dust. Chanyeol is certainly not jealous because the elder’s attention diverted from him. Well, okay, that bothers him but just a tiny bit. More than that, though, he gets this uncomfortable feeling at the pit of his stomach when he sees the fatherly side of Yifan. Chanyeol is very aware of their age difference. And he always knows that Yifan is a man who acts his age: mature, responsible, and all that jazz. This side, though, seems to only create bigger gap between them. Chanyeol doesn’t like it.

Now he can’t stop pondering if Yifan wants a family of his own. And if he does, well, Chanyeol can’t place himself in the picture of Yifan’s family. Chanyeol by no means a family man nor does he love children (those extremely active little limbs give him headache). But ugh, it feels like he’s getting stabbed right on the chest when he imagines Yifan’s future without him in it.

“What’s with the long face?” Jongdae jabs at his waist.

“Go away!” Chanyeol buries his head in his arms.

“Aw, why?” Jongdae croons delightfully, clearly enjoying Chanyeol’s misery. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Shut up!” Chanyeol grumbles.

“Ouch,” Jongdae’s voice turns more concern. “Did I hit a delicate spot?”

“Why is dating Yifan so hard?” Chanyeol demands. He raises his head and stares at Jongdae imploringly. “Please remind me the reason I jumped into this relationship?”

“Okay, what’s happening in here?” Jongdae asks, beginning to worry about his best friend’s well-being.

“It’s just—” Chanyeol tries to arrange appropriate sentence. “It suddenly hits me that he’s much older and mature than me. While I’m daydreaming about having cheesecake for dinner he’s probably thinking about how many children he’ll have, or deciding which kind of insurance to take, or even planning where he’ll be buried when he dies.”

Jongdae offers him his mineral water. “Okay, you need to calm down.”

“It freaks me out, Dae,” Chanyeol heaves out after gulping down a load of water. “What do I do?”

“Just break up,” Jongdae simply suggests.

“Excuse me?”

“People break up all the time.” Jongdae shrugs. “We’re still young and if the prospect of being with him scares the shit out of you, then break up. You’ll find someone whom you can have fun with, and Yifan will no longer wasting his time for someone who can’t be serious with him.”

Chanyeol pouts. “I’m serious with him.”

Jongdae merely grins. “If so, what’s the problem?”

“I’m just a child,” Chanyeol sighs resignedly.

“Everyone knows that,” Jongdae responds. “That’s why we’re being very skeptical the first time you introduced him as your boyfriend.”

“But I like him so much,” Chanyeol admits loudly for the first time. “I don’t—I just want him.”

“Well, then just be with him!” Jongdae says. “I don’t understand how you’re beating yourself over something you’ve already known the answer. It’s depressing.”

Chanyeol groans. “Why are you here anyway?” he asks. “It’s not everyday you drop by my faculty.”

“Right.” Jongdae adjusts himself in his seat. “I need your help. I’m having a gig next Friday and I’m in serious need for an acoustic guitarist. Only you can pull off a performance in short notice like this. Please, Yeol?”

“Next Friday?” Chanyeol tries to remember when the dinner appointment he has with his family and Yifan is. It’s in Saturday, apparently. “Sure, I’ve got nothing to do these days.”

Jongdae throws his arms around him. “You’re indeed my best friend. I’ll text you about our practice sessions, okay?”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says and waves Jongdae goodbye.




“Waiting for someone?” Jinki, his colleague, asks when he finds Yifan standing outside their office building. He has his son, Taemin, clutching on his hand tightly.

“My boyfriend,” Yifan answers. He scoops Taemin and carries the child close to his chest. The three year old kid happily cuddles against him.

“That young boyfriend of yours?” Jinki chuckles good-naturedly. He’s one of those people who don’t question much about his relationship with Chanyeol and so Yifan is able to talk about his young boyfriend with ease.

“Yes, that hot and young boyfriend of mine.” Yifan pats Taemin chubby cheek gently.

“How does it feel?” Jinki looks curious. “Dating someone far younger than you, I mean.”

Yifan absentmindedly cards his hand through Taemin’s soft locks, contemplating the proper response. “It feels like, I don’t know, dating someone much younger than you? That uncertainty, passion, and tad bit adrenaline? I’ve no idea if it’s because the age difference or because it’s him, but Chanyeol keeps our relationship interesting.”

“You’re whipped,” Jinki states.

“I am,” Yifan agrees, because he does. Totally and gladly.

“There’s your boyfriend,” Jinki points out.

Yifan looks up and sees Chanyeol approaching them with uncharacteristic attentiveness. He sighs when he notices the lanky guy forget to bring his jacket, again.

“Hey,” Chanyeol greets them, timidly.

“You’ve already met Jinki,” Yifan says when his friend handshakes with Chanyeol. “This is Taemin, Jinki’s little son. Say hello to Uncle Yeollie, baby.”

“Hello,” Taemin murmurs shyly before tucking his head in the crook of Yifan’s neck. Yifan chortles at the adorableness, missing the twitch on the corner of Chanyeol’s mouth while he’s at it.

They part ways from Jinki and Taemin minutes later, heading to the opposite direction. Yifan makes to huddle Chanyeol to his side but the younger wiggles away from him. Yifan just laughs and attempts to do it again just to annoy his lover. They’re involved in an intense wrestling game on their way to the subway (Yifan doesn’t feel like driving today). People who are walking past them giggle when they see the sight.

“Damnit, Yifan,” Chanyeol grunts, he’s more irritated by Yifan’s display of affection than usual. “Stop it.”

“But it’s windy and you practically wear nothing!” Yifan cries exasperatedly. He pulls off his coat and wraps Chanyeol in it. “Wear this, at least. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

Chanyeol puckers his lips but accepts the coat.

“Come on.” Yifan motions for them to continue walking. This time, the brunette voluntarily holding hands with him.

They walk past the newly built apartment Yifan’s been eyeing for months. His eyes are practically glued to the gloriously tall building. He is snapped out of his stupor when he feels Chanyeol fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“What are you staring at?” Chanyeol inquires.

“Well—” Yifan pulls the slightly shorter male into stop and indicates toward the apartment building. “What do you think about that?”

“Looks grand,” Chanyeol comments.

“I’m thinking about moving there,” Yifan tells.

“Huh?”

“It will be more spacious than my single apartment,” Yifan says. “You can finally move some of your stuffs from your dorm room and we can invite our friends on weekend. It’ll be more convenient to commute too, because it’s close to downtown. What do you think?”

Chanyeol is eerily silent through his entire explanation. Yifan quickly picks up the vibe.

“Hey,” he quickly adds, panic, “I’m not asking you to move in with me.” Though I really want to. “But you’ve been spending lots of time in my place anyway. It’ll be much easier if you don’t have to bring change clothes everytime you sleepover, right?”

Chanyeol heaves a sigh and gives him a small smile. Yifan turns to goo at the scene.

“So what do you think?” Yifan asks, cautiously.

“You can do whatever you want.” Chanyeol shrugs. “It’s your money.”

But I want to make each of important life decision with you, Yifan thinks. His favorite past time is to envision his future with Chanyeol. He imagines their future home, future car, and even future children. Yifan is always giddy whenever he thinks about their children, ones who would share his and Chanyeol’s features. He may or may not squeal when picturing pregnant Chanyeol in his head; his stomach would be beautifully rounded and he’s going to be so radiant (as if he’s not already bright enough). He knows better than saying all these out loud though, because it’s a sure-fire way to have Chanyeol freaking out. So Yifan just resolves to encircle his arms around the university student and kisses his temple.




“Jongdae told me you’re going to play for him in the next gig?” Yifan hears Yixing say to Chanyeol from behind him. He turns around and observes the youngsters (it pains him to say the word ‘youngsters’).

“Yeah, he asked me to,” Chanyeol simply replies as he grabs two packs of tortilla chips. “We’ve been practicing for the last few days.”

So that’s why Chanyeol hardly sleeping over his place lately. Yifan has been worried that it has to do with their conversation about him moving to new apartment, but turns out that it’s not the case. He can’t be more relief. Although it irks him how Chanyeol doesn’t bother to tell him he has a performance coming up. His boyfriend is a gifted musician, even if he has no will to pursue it professionally, and Yifan always loves seeing him on stage.

Yifan conveys his thought when he’s left alone with Chanyeol. Yixing is wandering to god knows where, most likely will come back with bunch of stuffs in his hands (which Yifan has to pay for later).

“You’re going to have a gig?” Yifan asks. “And you’re not inviting me?” Wow, his tone sounds far more accusing than what he imagined.

“It’s only a small gig,” Chanyeol mutters in reply. “Nothing to see, really.”

“But I want to see you performing,” Yifan whines, so unlikely his age.

Chanyeol eyes him, perturbed. “My parents have never been half excited as you to see me performing. You’re probably going to come and waving banner with ‘Chanyeollie #1’ on it and screaming your lungs out when I’m on stage.”

“Well—” Perhaps he’s planning on exactly that.

“You’re not coming.” Chanyeol’s tone is final.

“But, sweet—”

“No,” Chanyeol interjects. “The cafe is going to be filled with young people. Trust me; you don’t want to be the only thirty year old man in there.”

“I’m twenty eight!” the blonde squawks indignantly.

“What’s the difference?” Chanyeol waves his hand dismissively. “You look thirty to me.”

Chanyeol leaves him with mouth hanging open there, taking the shopping cart with him.

“Ge, should I buy dark purple towel or the light purple one?” Yixing comes up to him a moment later.

“Hey, Xing,” Yifan calls.

“Yeah?”

“Do I look thirty to you?” Yifan demands to Yixing.

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Um—only for the neck, uh, up,” Yixing stammers and looks uncomfortable at best. “Don’t worry, man, you’re still hot.”

“But I still look thirty,” Yifan whispers hollowly. There goes all the money and hours he spent on his skin care regime.




Chanyeol wakes up that day in his own bed, feeling great. He prepares himself for the long day ahead. He eats his cereal peacefully while replying Yifan’s good morning text. He goes to his classes and has a quick lunch while finishing his long-due report. He then gets back to his dorm room, showers, and heads to the gig venue.

“How are you feeling?” Jongdae asks nervously when they are waiting for their turn at the back stage.

“Peachy.” Chanyeol grins. He squeezes Jongdae’s narrow shoulder reassuringly. “You’re going to be great. We’re going to be great.”

Jongdae lets out a shaky breath. Though he’s been known as a great performer, he is also notorious for being a nervous wreck before the performance.

They finally get their turn after three performances later. Chanyeol encourages his best friend to take a deep breath before pushing him outside into the spotlight. He smiles brightly and gives once over to the crowd. He stops short when he notices a familiar blonde head among the mass of college students. The man stands in the crowd despite his attempt to blend in with the youngsters around him. His attire is too fancy for a college student.

Yifan raises his fists into the air in what he probably hopes as cool cheer. Chanyeol wants to face palm at the pathetic sight.

They present three songs in total. They supposed to only play two, but the crowd yells at them to play some more and they happily oblige. Jongdae’s smooth voice mixes in so well with each strum of his guitar. A gig with Jongdae is indeed one of his favorites.

Yifan welcomes them to his table with a huge mix platter and two tall glasses of caramel macchiato. Jongdae mumbles his thanks before digging straight into the snacks. But Chanyeol only stands there immobile, sending a deadly scowl to his boyfriend’s direction. Yifan tries to match his glare but gives up after only few seconds with a deep sigh.

“I just want to watch you!”

Chanyeol puffs out his cheeks annoyedly.

“Oh, come on,” Yifan begs. He pulls him toward his lap, and Chanyeol (begrudgingly, mind you) sits on top of it. “You’re doing great, hon.”

Chanyeol just grumps.

“Oh, please Yeol.” Jongdae flourishes a piece of calamari to his face. “Your boyfriend is very mindful about you. Besides, he’s nice enough to buy us food. You’re lucky to have him as boyfriend.”

“You can order anything you want, Jongdae,” Yifan offers graciously and Jongdae gives him thumbs up. Chanyeol just rolls his eyes.

They finish their snacks in no time (Jongdae orders a delicious serving of blueberry cheesecake for himself). Chanyeol stays perching on Yifan’s lap all the time because the older man won’t let go of him and honestly Chanyeol himself is pretty much comfortable on there. He ignores the looks people throw at him. They can talk all they want.

“Are you still mad?” Yifan asks on their way to the man’s apartment. He requires Chanyeol to sleepover because he misses him.

“Not that much.” Yifan tickles his side. “Okay—okay. I’m no longer mad. Please—stop.”

Yifan chuckles and brings him in for a long kiss, right in the middle of pedestrian. It’s still early at night and so the street is quiet busy but Chanyeol can’t bring himself to care. He relishes in the soft kisses Yifan plant on his lips. Their romantic moment is broken, however, when they hear a bump accompanied by loud and high cry on the ground near them.

The next thing he knows, Yifan’s lips are gone. He looks around to see Yifan crouching down and cooing at a crying child.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Yifan murmurs. He squats down and raises the little boy to his lap. Yifan blows air to the scratch forming at the kid’s knee. His gigantic hand rubbing the crying boy’s back so gently.

Chanyeol just watches from the sideline.

“Yugyeom!” a woman rushes toward them. She bends down and scoops the child from Yifan’s cradle.

“I’m so sorry, Sir. He cannot stay still for even a minute.”

Yifan stands and wipes the tears off Yugyeom’s cheeks. “He’s a kid after all. It’s fine.”

Yifan and the woman exchange a few pleasantries before she and his son walks away.

“You like children,” Chanyeol asserts when Yifan’s attention is back at him.

“I do,” Yifan admits.

“I hate them.”

Yifan merely simpers. “I gather that much.”

“And you don’t mind about that?” Chanyeol asks, disbelievingly.

“Should I mind about that?” Yifan creases his eyebrows.

“Well—it just seems to add to the list ‘Why This Relationship Isn’t Going to Work’,” Chanyeol blurts.

Yifan’s eyes narrows into slits. Without word, he’s walking away from him. Chanyeol groans and runs after his boyfriend. He can’t believe their lovey-dovey moment turns into argument this fast. He blames his prodigious mouth for that.

“Yifan,” Chanyeol beseechs. “I’m sorry, please.”

The blonde halts and stares at him with rage. “I never demand anything from you! I don’t want you to change. I want you just the way you are. I just love how ‘us’ is going.”

“I know.” Chanyeol nods repeatedly. “I’m sorry.”

Yifan exhales and holds out his arm for Chanyeol, he can never stay angry for long at the brunette. The younger quickly presses himself against Yifan’s side.

“Let’s just get home, okay?” Chanyeol whispers.

“Okay.”




“Yifan!” Is the first word coming out from his mother when she open the door for them the next day. She walks past Chanyeol to engulf the taller man into a crushing hug.

“Where’s my greeting?” Chanyeol complains like a spoiled kid.

“Here, here.” His mother tip toes to give him a peck on the cheek.

His father and sister welcome Yifan with the same enthusiasm as his mother’s. It’s not a secret that the elder has waltzed his way into Chanyeol’s family. His parents and sister had questioned their relationship at first, of course. But seeing Yifan’s mature and reliable self has them melt like butter. They must haven’t known how his boyfriend manhandles him into bed on most nights.

The dinner consists of his mother’s infamous samgyetang, bossam, and japchae with ice cream cake for dessert. His mother is going all out with this dinner.

They slump against their chairs, stomach full, occasionally sipping white wine (courtesy of Wu ‘Fucking Nice’ Yifan, even if his boyfriend isn’t really a drinker) when the undesirable topic about future coming up. Yura has it easy because she’s in her way graduating with honor from prestigious law school and already signed a contract with a nice firm. She always has her paths laid down in front of her. Meanwhile, Chanyeol’s future is still bleak.

“How’s your study?” his father asks.

“It’s going smooth,” Chanyeol replies shortly. He isn’t lying. In spite of his constant whines about the load of works as history student, he actually enjoys his study. He’s probably going to graduate with a cum laude in his hand.

“Do you have any idea what you’re going to do after graduating?”

“I still have none,” Chanyeol answers. “But who cares? I’m still young.”

“I hope you knock some sense out of him, Yifan,” Chanyeol’s mother says.

“I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you.” Yifan ruffles Chanyeol’s messy locks. “Chanyeol is so smart and talented I’m sure he’s got bright future ahead. I’ll support him no matter what he choose to do.”

“That’s cute,” Yura coos, her tone teasing. “Say Yifan, why don’t you just date me instead of this annoying little brat? He only knows to eat and sleep. What’s the good in him?”

“Yura is right,” Yifan hums and turns to look at him. “Why do I date you?”

“Hey, you don’t date me,” Chanyeol retorts. “I date you. I’m the one who call for dibs in this relationship.”

His family and Yifan laugh at his outburst but Chanyeol is less than impressed.




It is Yifan’s routine to clean up his entire flat every Saturday morning. He usually drags Chanyeol’s lazy ass to aid him but the younger has been sulking with unknown reason lately and Yifan doesn’t have the heart to ask him. He lets Chanyeol lounge on his couch while he slaves around the small place.

Something on the top of kitchen counter catches Yifan’s eyes. It turns out to be a brochure. A brochure about graduate school in history at Chanyeol’s university to be exact.

“Yeol.” Yifan walks out to the living room and finds Chanyeol lying on his stomach on the couch. “What is this?”

Chanyeol looks up and frowns at the leaflet Yifan’s waving him at. He just groans and buries his face into the cushion. Yifan sits down on the couch, his hands move to massage the tension off Chanyeol’s shoulders. The conversation with his parents last week must have bothered him more than Yifan had assumed.

“It’s fine to take it slowly,” Yifan lowers his voice, coddling.

Chanyeol looks back at him. “But you’re never the type of person who takes everything slowly,” he interjects.

“Well, we’re different type of people,” Yifan reasons.

“Thanks for pointing that out,” Chanyeol scoffs and goes back to face plant himself on the couch.

“You’ve become so mopey nowadays,” Yifan says. “What’s going on? Are you mad about something?”

Chanyeol mumbles words Yifan can’t catch against the soft cushion.

“What is it?” Yifan asks. He turns Chanyeol so they are face to face.

“I’m a kid,” Chanyeol repeats, clearly this time.

Yifan guffaws at the statement. “Yes, you are,” he agrees, pecking on the younger’s pink lips. He still doesn’t understand what Chanyeol is on about but his boyfriend looks so adorable in his disheveled state. His face reddens, be it from annoyance, embarrassment, or the mix of both.

“Then why are you dating a kid?”

“Because I love this kid.” His answer surprises both of them. He has realized that his feeling toward Chanyeol is deeper than just a mere attraction, but uttering the sacred L-O-V-E outrightly—well, that’s new. “I mean—”

“You love me?”

“I do.” Yifan gulps. “To the point that I want to spend my old days with you.” He really needs to put a break on his mouth. His heart drops at seeing the bewildered expression on Chanyeol’s baby face. “Okay, forget about the last sentence.”

Yifan makes to move away but Chanyeol holds onto him tightly and so he stumbles forward. They fall into tangled mess of long limbs with chorused groans.

“Ow,” Chanyeol whimpers.

“Sorry.” Though it’s not Yifan’s fault.

Chanyeol shakes his head. He leans up and captures Yifan’s bottom lip in between his. Yifan sighs into the kiss, hands coming up to cradle the sides of Chanyeol’s head. They are making out until their lips felt raw. Chanyeol doesn’t say that he loves him back, but Yifan doesn’t really mind. He can feel the love through each slide of their lips.





The big argument comes up not until two weeks later. They are cuddling on Yifan’s double couch, watching Chanyeol’s favorite kiddie cartoon. Seoul is getting real chilly and his heater is acting up again. More reason why he should move from the petite apartment. Yifan brings up this topic once again to Chanyeol and the younger responds in the same manner.

“It’s your money,” Chanyeol gruffly tells him. “Do what you want with it.”

“But I really want to hear your opinion about it.” And because it’s what I hope to be our home in the future.

“You don’t need my opinion on every single thing you’re going to do,” the brunette says. “Beside, I’m still young and immature. What kind of brilliant input I could possibly give?”

“But you give me suggestion on what clothes I’ve to wear,” Yifan reminds him.

“Because it’s a simple thing!” Chanyeol exclaims. “Unlike all these big stuffs you love to throw at me, like what kind of car you should buy or whether the offer from this insurance company is better than the other ones. I’m too young for this shit.”

They don’t realize that their voices have escalated. Although still sharing the same blanket, they’re moving apart from each other, glaring holes to each other’s face.

“This rowdy relationship—” Chanyeol breathes. “It feels like I’m heading to Gangnam but you drag me all the way to Czech.”

What?

“You always want to take a big leap in our relationship even if I’m not ready for that.” Chanyeol moves his hands frantically. “You’re so—intense.”

“I’m sorry but when I’m into a relationship I’m 100% committed to that.”

Chanyeol points a finger at him. “See, you use that word!”

“What word?”

“Committed!”

Yifan is at lost for words.

“Next time I’m unaware and you’ll suddenly ask my hand for marriage,” Chanyeol continues.

“Um—”

“Damn.” The younger’s eyes widen comically. “You’ve been thinking about it, haven’t you?”

“Well, yeah,” Yifan admits, abashed. “But honestly I’m going to wait for another years before I bringing it up to you.”

“I—I am still twenty.” Yifan watches in horror as he witnesses tears welling up in Chanyeol’s eyes. “What do you expect for me?”

“I never expect anything from you.” Yifan reaches out but Chanyeol already scoots farther away from him. “Yeol—”

“I’m going.” Chanyeol stands up and goes into the bedroom. Yifan stays motionless, hearing some shuffling from his room. Chanyeol comes out minutes later with his backpack.

Without saying anything, he sees himself out. And the next time Yifan’s awareness returns, he’s already alone in his apartment with only silence as a company.




His text book has already torn beyond saving, considering the force Chanyeol apply when he underlines the important names and dates. He can’t even read anything from it anymore. Not that he has the will to.

“You know what?” Jongdae suddenly blurts. “You’re stressing me out. Seriously.”

Chanyeol just sighing in reply.

“If you’re sorry then come to him, apologize, and then have heated make-up sex or something,” Jongdae rebukes. “You’re poisoning your life by sighing and practically doing nothing like this.”

“I’m studying.” To prove his point, Chanyeol raises his shredded text book.

“More like torturing your innocent book.”

“I’m helpless,” Chanyeol wails, planting his cheek on the cold library desk.

“I wouldn’t go as far as saying that.” Jongdae pats his back sympathetically. “Yifan loves you so much he’ll welcome you with open arms despite you being an idiot.”

“Why do I have to fall for him?” Chanyeol howls. “Why can’t I go for another person? Maybe Minho from Literature or even Yongguk would be nice. It’ll make my life a whole lot more convenient.”

“As if they’re going to be interested in you.” Chanyeol sends the short male a dirty look. “You’re lucky that Yifan is such a sucker for your nonexistent ass.”

“Yeah, he is.” Okay, now Chanyeol is thinking about sex which is out of context. He recalls the way Yifan roughhousing him in the bed and, damn, he’s been deprived of sex the last few weeks.

“I can already guess what your filthy mind is going at.” Jongdae clicks his tongue annoyedly.

“I’m a healthy young male—”

Blah, blah, blah, whatever,” Jongdae cuts him. “Just apologize to him. Yifan doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“It’s easier said than done.”

“You’ll never know till you’ve tried.”

Chanyeol huffs. “Since when you’re turning to be the wisest man on earth?”

“Since my best friend is a poop dumb,” Jongdae says. “Please just make amend to him. Don’t you feel at least a bit guilty?”

“Of course I do!” Chanyeol barks, offended. He’s been losing sleep lately because he can’t stop wondering about the pain he’s most likely inflicted to his boyfriend. Especially since he knows that Yifan is very gooey at heart. “I’m an idiot.”

“I keep telling you that.”

“I’m childish and immature.”

“Now you admit it.”

“I don’t deserve Wu Yifan at all.”

“Hey, hey,” Jongdae stops him. “Now isn’t the appropriate time to be self-deprecating. Yifan puts up with you in such a long span so you must have done something right.”

“You think so?”

“Positively.”




Yifan’s body has been beaten and bruised during his ‘break’ with Chanyeol. Literally. He’s been walking straight into walls, glass doors, or even cabinets countless times. He knows his co-workers are beginning to worry about his mental health. They forbid him to enter the pantry, using paper shredder, or even just walking to another department to hand reports.

“Why don’t you take a day off?” Minseok suggests. “You’re acting like a walking corpse right now. It scares us off.”

Yifan just looks up from his spreadsheets to gaze at Minseok pitifully.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m so doomed,” Yifan croaks out.

“You can just call him and have heart-to-heart talk like normal people instead of wallowing in the pool of self pity,” Minseok says.

“It’s not that easy.”

Maybe if their brains working in the same wavelength he can do that. Talking about their relationship and mapping their lives together over coffee or something. With Chanyeol, he can never guess. And while it sometimes becomes downright frustrating, it’s what makes their relationship fun and interesting. That’s what makes him falling in love with the barely adult.

At the end of the day, Minseok and his other friends dragging him to a bar in an effort to cheer him up. Yifan isn’t a big alcohol drinker but he finds himself voluntarily tag along. It will be better than coming home without Chanyeol sprawling across his couch and snacking on Nutella straight from its jar. It’s Friday night anyway.




Chanyeol has been staring at Yifan’s door for the last thirty minutes, key dangling on his finger unused. He’s been contemplating on what to say to his boyfriend, how to apologize appropriately, because knowing him he’ll only end up talking gibberish. And he doesn’t want to hurt Yifan even further.

After giving himself what’s possibly the longest pep talk ever, he takes a deep breath and inserts the key to the keyhole. His phone goes off, however. He groans and fishes it out from his hoodie pocket. Yifan.

“Ugh—” Chanyeol clears his throat before picking up. “H-hello?”

“Chanyeol?” Chanyeol recognizes the voice as one of Yifan’s close friend, Minseok.

“Minseok-hyung?”

“Thank goodness you’re picking up,” Minseok says.

“What’s going on?” Chanyeol asks curiously. “Why are you using Yifan’s phone?”

“Yifan is a bit—um,” Minseok explains warily. “Well, he’s dead drunk. And I don’t really want to haul his weight all the way to his apartment. So, can you pick him up?”

“Sure,” Chanyeol eagerly replies. “Where are you?”

“We’re at this small bar not far from Yifan’s place,” Minseok says. “The one you can see from the subway entrance?”

Chanyeol figures out the place quickly. “I’ll be there in a jiffy.”

He finds Yifan’s drunken body slumping against Minseok petite but firm figure. Minseok gives him a smile that tells Chanyeol he knows about their current state of relationship. He pushes Yifan toward him, quiet forcefully if Chanyeol may add. Both of the gangly males grunt when their bodies collide harshly.

“Tell me when you two have reconciled,” Minseok says cheekily. He salutes at him before leaving Chanyeol with a mess of limbs that is Yifan.

Yifan moves restlessly against him and Chanyeol takes a better hold on him. He feels Yifan sniff and sigh on his neck. It’s ticklish. Chanyeol misses that feeling.

“Yeollie, baby,” Yifan mumbles. “I miss you.”

I miss you too. “Let’s get your drunken ass home.” Chanyeol grunts when he try to adjust Yifan’s body so he’ll stand more upright. “I can’t believe you’re going out for drink. You can never handle your liquor well.”

“You’re scolding me.” Yifan flicks at his nose affectionately. “It’s cute.”

“Come on.” Chanyeol pulls him to his apartment’s direction. Yifan is humming some tone Chanyeol doesn’t acquaint with.

They walk across a music store. Girls Generation’s I Got A Boy is blasting from the store’s speaker all the way through the pedestrian. Chanyeol helplessly watches as his boyfriend start moving his hips awkwardly according to the music. Yifan makes a suggestive gesture for Chanyeol to join him.

“Come on, Yeollie.” Yifan flails his hand in a bad attempt to imitate the choreography. “Let me introduce myself! Here comes trouble! Ttara hae! Oh ohh eh oh. Oh ohh eh eh—

He’s making a scene. Some people gather to cheer at Yifan and it only serves to lift up his spirit even more. Chanyeol is tempted to let Yifan dancing around fluidly like that, just for the sake of entertainment. Drunken Yifan is so carefree; it always lightens up Chanyeol’s day. But they’re still fighting and Yifan probably won’t forgive him if he recalls it later. So Chanyeol wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s torso, still chuckling, and drags him away.

“I love you,” Yifan murmurs later, after Chanyeol tucks him into the bed.

“I love you too.” Chanyeol kisses the blonde’s forehead.




Yifan wakes up to a loud bang outside his bedroom. He sits up too quickly and regrets it almost right away because his head spins. His body falls back into the mattress. He gets flashes of what happened last night which involving Minseok’s saccharine grin, shots of tequila, Girls Generation’s song (?), and that familiar scent of strawberry bodywash. So if he’s not mistaken, the person who’s currently making ruckus outside his room is—

“Oh?” Chanyeol says when he opens the bedroom door. He’s holding a tray in his hands. “You’re awake.”

Yifan can only make a coarse noise at the back of his throat in reply.

Chanyeol sits at edge of his bed and hands him a glass of water. Yifan gingerly gulps down the fresh water. It helps easing down the dryness on his throat.

“I made you haejangguk.” Chanyeol shows him a mess inside a steamy bowl.

“Um—” Yifan stares down at the unappealing looking soup.

“I woke up very early to buy the ingredients,” Chanyeol continues, his bottom lip jutting out.

Yifan isn’t one to make his love sad. He grabs the spoon from Chanyeol’s who immediately brighten up. The elder tentatively scoops down a bit of the hot broth and brings it to his mouth. Wow. What he has to say, it tastes good. He begins to wolf down the food with apparent enthusiasm. Manner be damned.

The bowl is drained in no time. Chanyeol sniggers when he takes in Yifan’s wretched appearance. The brunette swipes his thumb at the corner of his lip to wipe off any remnant. Chanyeol takes the bowl from him and stands up.

“I’m going to—”

“Stay,” Yifan begs, clutching at the hem of Chanyeol’s T-shirt. “Please.”

“Okay.” Chanyeol puts down the tray on the nightstand.

Yifan scoots farther into the bed to give room for the other. However, Chanyeol seems to have another thing in mind. He crawls right on top of him, pastes his body tightly against Yifan’s, ears pressed on his heart. Their feet tangle at the end of the bed. Yifan is having the nastiest hangover he’s ever felt, but it can’t stop the contentment spreading through him.

“I’m sorry,” the two of them utter simultaneously. They laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation and all awkwardness melts down with every gasp of breath.

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol murmurs after the laughter has died down.

Yifan kisses his temple then buries his head in the soft brown hair, inhaling the sweet scent of the younger’s shampoo. “No, I’m sorry. I’ve never meant to pressure you into anything.”

“You don’t.” Chanyeol pulls his head away from his chest to look at him right in the eye. “I should’ve known better when I decided to dive into this.”

“Are you regretting it?”

“Not at all.” The smaller male plop his head back down. “Even if you’re greasy and love to nag at me.”

“I love you.”

Chanyeol just huffs.

“Can’t you say it back to me?”

“I love me too.”

Chanyeol yelps when Yifan pinches his side.




Yifan notices the changes in their relationship after that. Chanyeol starts spending more time in his place. The younger has even taken it upon himself to clean his apartment and cook for him. It’s now a habit for Yifan to come home to tidy rooms and warm meals (Chanyeol’s cooking has improved in appearance too, which is wonderful). The atmosphere of their relationship can only be described as ‘intense’ right now.

But Yifan can’t be more surprised when something happens weeks later. And it makes Yifan certain that Chanyeol is ready for taking their relationship into the next level.

Ah—” Chanyeol moans deep and loud when Yifan bites his earlobe. “Come on, I’ve been hot and bothered these past hours. Please, no more foreplay.”

Yifan’s mouth slids down to a sensitive spot on the younger’s neck. He sucks hard on the area and Chanyeol shivers. He lets out series of desperate mewls, and damn, Yifan’s dick is so hard it hurts. Perhaps it’d be better if they skip the longer foreplay. He herds the shorter guy toward the bedroom, pausing only to swing the door shut. He pushes Chanyeol to the soft mattress and strips down. The brunette follows in suit.

Soon enough their naked bodies are sliding against each other; Chanyeol is lying on top of him. Their tongues furiously battling for dominance. Yifan already has four fingers up into Chanyeol’s tight heat. His other hand is toying with his lover’s hardened nipples.

“Please,” Chanyeol pants, staring at Yifan imploringly. Who is Yifan to deny such request?

Yifan pulls out his finger to fetch a condom package from the nightstand but Chanyeol takes it from his hand and throw it away.

“No condom,” Chanyeol says.

“But—” he trails off. “You can get—”

“I know what could possibly happen thank you very much.” Chanyeol shifts and positions Yifan’s straining cock against his stretched entrance. He takes a deep breath before sinking down on the said cock. They let out simultaneous moans because of the connection. The absence of condom in their intercourse only heightens the pleasure.

“Slow down,” Yifan warns when Chanyeol begins moving his hips vigorously up and down after only adjusting for seconds.

“It’s, ah, fine,” Chanyeol gasps.

They set up an insane pace. Yifan holds onto Chanyeol waist to aid the other’s movement, pulling him hard on every downward move while he thrust his hips up. Chanyeol gurgles whenever the tip of Yifan’s cock hitting his prostate, saliva pooling at the corners of his lips. After some while Yifan can feel his boyfriend growing tired from being on top and he flips them over. He continues their pace while Chanyeol just lies there, receive and receive.

It doesn’t take long for Chanyeol to reach his complexion, untouched. Yifan snaps his hips faster, because he hasn’t come and Chanyeol must’ve been spent even if he doesn’t demand Yifan to stop. His orgasm crashing over him and he lets go. Chanyeol shudders when he feels Yifan’s warm seed coating his inside.

Yifan is about to pull out from the younger but Chanyeol locks him static with his long legs.

“Don’t.”

“But I need to clean you or else—”

“I’m aware of this Yifan,” Chanyeol cuts him. “I don’t mind to bear your child. I think it’s going to be great to have a child together, don’t you think so? Even if he or she will end up greasy like you.”

“You’re still young,” Yifan argues, eventhough his heart is bursting with happiness.

“The Great Jongdae said to me that love knows no boundary,” Chanyeol says. “Besides, it isn’t like I’m going to be pregnant right away. Your sperms aren’t that superb.”

“You wouldn’t know.”

“I just know.” Chanyeol yawns adorably.

Yifan feels the rush of affection swimming through him. He leans down to press a gentle kiss on the smaller male’s lips. Chanyeol replies his gesture with the same tenderness.

“It’s weirdly nice when you came inside,” Chanyeol sighs when they pull away from the kiss. “Nobody ever care to tell me that before.”

“We can do that again,” Yifan responds eagerly.

Chanyeol sends him incredulous stare. “Nymphomaniac.”




Exactly a month later, Chanyeol plants the side of his head on the cold wall of their shared apartment. Yifan’s proceeded with the idea to move to bigger condo and Chanyeol’s parents have given the green light for him to join his boyfriend. Life is sometimes going smooth like that.

Except for now.

He still can’t bear to look down. Afraid that the pregnancy test will give him a dreaded result. Chanyeol has been so sluggish lately. He attributes it to the weather that’s going progressively cold, but then Jongdae being a thoughtful guy he is mentions another possibility. A possibility Chanyeol has never really delved in too deep, despite already thinking of it. So that’s why Chanyeol ends up slumping in the corner of the room with a pregnancy test in his hand, eyes clenched shut.

Maybe it’s because of cold or even food poisoning, Chanyeol gives himself a pep talk. Just look down and get over it.

Slowly, oh-so-slowly, Chanyeol opens his eyes and looks down. Only to see that two bold lines glaring back at him.

“Damn you, Wu Yifan! Not this fast!”

Tags: bad attempt, krisyeol
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