Warnings: violence, brief domestic violence
Summary: Trust Byun Baekhyun to get them into trouble. Prohibition!au
“Son of a bitch.”
Chanyeol sneers, eyes flashing in anger as specs of crimson mar his best shirt. The bastard’s nose gives under his fist with a satisfying crunch and it’s almost worth it. Chanyeol lives for this.
The boys have just gotten a little cash from finishing a job for some big shot Italian over in Cicero, real small time stuff, and the money is weighing heavily in their pockets. They’re just trying to enjoy a nice evening out, maybe buy a ciggy or two, nothing too wild. Trust Byun Baekhyun to get them into trouble.
The man howls and tries to cup his gushing nose, but Chanyeol doesn’t let up. He comes at him again, throwing all of his body weight into a quick jab at his throat. The crack of the man’s head against the wall as the force sends him backwards sets off a tingling of satisfaction in Chanyeol’s body. He quickly follows up with a swing to the stomach and the man wretches, spilling his guts. Chanyeol’s nose wrinkles and his skin crawls as some of it splashes on his shoes; he definitely picked the wrong day to get all spiffed up and wear his Sunday best.
Last week, Baekhyun had been shooting the piss with some buds down by the port when he’d seen a broad with legs for days and a rack that could make any man cry. He’d detached himself from the boys, ignoring their snickering and lewd remarks, and quickly approached her.
“I ain’t never seen no one prettier than you, Miss,” Baekhyun tells her, laying his best line down. She’s actually far from being a looker, but Baekhyun is never too picky with his women. He has no actual interest in them; he just wants to get his dick wet.
“You’re a real charmer, aren’t you?” She coos, red stained lips forming a lopsided pout as Baekhyun kicks at the wooden panelling of the dock, pretending to be bashful. His cheeks bloom red with excitement lending his act even more credibility.
He doesn’t exactly end up getting what he wants – a spot in between those delicious gams – but he does get a quick tug behind one of the abandoned warehouses a few streets away from the waterfront. There are still people passing by just yards away, but the building casts a long shadow and they’re mostly hidden behind some old wooden pallets.
She focuses most of her attention on the head of his dick, a painted fingernail running across the curved surface as her other hand slides across the skin of his shaft. It’s nice and efficient, and her hands are soft. Nothing like Park Chanyeol’s callused fingers with his quick and sloppy pulls.
He blows his load within minutes, knees knocking together as pleasure runs through his body, and she cups her hands to catch it. He would feel embarrassed at how quickly he loses himself, but it’s not everyday that a girl with a bod like her’s comes along.
Later, when he’s home in bed, lying next to Chanyeol and watching a cobweb flutter in a corner of the ceiling, he’ll wonder if she does this often. If that’s the reason her hands are so damn soft. For now, he comes down from his high and tucks himself back in, offering her his handkerchief to wipe her hands off. Byun Baekhyun may be a small time street thug, but he’s still a gentleman.
As she wipes the jizz off, she tells him about some guys she knows down on Pollock Street who can get him some ciggies and bootleg at a real killer price. Her information is a godsend. Lately, the feds have been closing in on some of the bigger bootleg rings in the city, so the prices of illicit substances have been shooting up. Prohibition’s a serious killjoy.
“I’d like to see you again, Handsome. Maybe you can take me out on a date sometime?” She ask hopefully when she’s done, batting her lashes and extending her arm towards him to give him back the handkerchief.
Baekhyun grimaces in disgust, her proposition and the spunk covered fabric making his stomach turn. As if a measly hand job is worth a courting. The perfume he’d found appealing before is suddenly sickening in its sweetness.
“Sorry, Toots.” He shakes his head and winks. “Keep it as a souvenir.” He then turns on his heels and saunters his way back towards the port, a bounce in his step and a tune on his tongue. A hand job and a tip off, his day can’t get any better.
A few feet down the dimly lit alleyway, sweat runs down into Baekhyun’s eyes as he wrestles a fucking bear of a man. It’s nothing he can’t handle though. The man has more bulk, a lot of fucking bulk, but Baekhyun is a scrappy little fucker. He flinches as the salty liquid stings his eyes and he grunts with effort, trying not to get distracted.
They bang into a trash can and the lid hits the ground with muted clang. The son of a bitch claws at his face, fingers finding their way into his mouth. It’s fucking disgusting. They taste tangy and Baekhyun doesn’t even want to think about what they could be covered in.
He bites down hard.
There’s a crunch and coppery tasting, warm liquid fills his mouth and the burly man screeches in his ear. He wrenches away, pulling the finger free of Baekhyun’s mouth with a sickening scrap of skin against teeth. The oaf stumbles and falls onto one of the spilled trash bags with a cry and Baekhyun spits out the blood. A cloud of foul air hits his nostrils as air escapes the bag and he tries not to gag; he has ass to finish kicking.
Baekhyun tells Chanyeol about his hook-up the next day and they make plans to dip on down to Pollock Street as soon as they finish their next job. They take some poor sap – Jinmyun or Junmyun or whatever the fuck – for a ride in their jalopy as dusk hits the city. Apparently, the man’s been stepping on the wrong toes. Not that Chanyeol cares about the whos or the whys, as long as he gets paid.
Dust kicks up behind the vehicle as it splutters along, trying to make it to the edge of the town without breaking down. “Come on doll, you can make it,” Baekhyun purrs, rubbing along the warm metal of the steering wheel, gently trying to coax the car into making it all the way there and back.
Chanyeol rolls his eyes. Baekhyun’s always gotta sweet talk someone or something. He’s a complete vamp, but that’s why Chanyeol sticks around.
They hit a particularly rough bump and the car jolts violently. Their dinner ticket rolls off the bucket seat in the back and hits the floorboard with a muffled groan. The man starts shouting into his gag and Chanyeol’s lips curl up in scorn. He reaches a hand back to swat at the body. “Shuddup, would ya? Take this like a man.”
The car finally makes it out to the outskirts and they drag the man out of the backseat. The rag tied around his mouth is soaked through with saliva and snot. Tears streak his face and Chanyeol’s nose crinkles in disdain – what a wimp.
“Stand up, you piker, let’s go.” The man stumbles as Baekhyun yanks him to his feet.
Night falls completely by the time they dump his dead body in a ditch.
His opponent’s doubled over and Chanyeol slams his elbow down as hard as he can onto the lower end of his spine. Something cracks and the man is down in an instant, frozen in pain. The fucker deserves it.
Pain buzzes through his arm and fuck, he hit his funny bone. “It is kinda funny,” he mumbles to himself. He throws his head back and laughs, hopped up on adrenaline and the thrill of victory.
He’s always believed in a fair fight, which is why he fully intends to sit back and let Baekhyun finish his own fisticuffs - even if he is itching bust his knuckles open some more. He squats down in front of the poor schmuck at his feet, watching lazily as the man whimpers. His tiny mouth is made even smaller as he grimaces, head pressed flush against his own vomit. Chanyeol snorts. How pathetic.
He flips the man’s lapels open and reaches into his breast pocket„ grinning as his searching fingers hit a small case. Hot dog, looks like they’ll be getting those fags after all.
He lights one up, acrid smoke burning its way down his throat.
“This is some swell stuff you got.” The sprawled out man groans in response.
They get to the joint, and wouldn’t you know it – it’s a setup. Turns out the girl has some very protective older brothers, a pair of Chinese baby grands by the names of Zitao and Yifan, and they don’t take kindly to their sister coming home crying. ‘Never trust a dame with nice gams’, Baekhyun’s old man would always say. Too bad Baekhyun’s never been one to blindly take advice from old fucks. ‘Live and learn and maybe you’ll make it out alive’ is his motto.
Baekhyun’s a little too cocky for his own good and the man on the ground lurches up, throwing his body against the slighter male. All the air in his lungs escapes in a rush and his head bounces as it hits the dirt. The world goes hazy for a moment as he tries to catch his bearings, head already starting a thudding rhythm of pain. The man is up on his his feet, but Baekhyun still thinks he has time.
He’s about to scramble back up when he sees a foot flying towards his face. A split second is all he has left to make a decision and he rolls over, shielding the front of his face. He’s way too pretty to let some bastard fuck his nose up.
The kick slams full force into the back of his head. He doesn’t even register his cheek tearing open as it scrapes across the gritty earth, little pebbles digging into the skin. He’s gonna be mad as hell when he sees it later. A weightless feeling radiates from the top of his skull for a second before everything goes black.
Well, what do you know, Baekhyun can’t hold his fucking own this time.
Once, while they’re still teens, Chanyeol makes the mistake of telling Baekhyun that he’s afraid of being alone. His shirt is clinging to his back as sweat trails down his scalp, sticky with humidity. The night is hot as hell and his deadbeat dad is back in town.
He goes home early for once, ready to help his Mama out around the house. Lord knows she worries about him too much. He opens the front door and the bastard is sitting at the dining room table, smiling at his Mama as if he’d never even left.
Not even a minute later, Chanyeol’s kisser is split open, jaw aching from the smash of a fist against bone. His own fists clench, but he resists the urge to swing back. His tongue flicks out and he laps at the blood. No use getting his Mama upset.
“All you do is cause your Ma trouble.” Chanyeol’s stomach drops. Dishes clank loudly in the sink as his Mama turns her back and starts washing them. “I didn’t ask for a son like this.”
“Well I didn’t ask for no dumbbell of a dad.” He quickly ducks as his pop lunges at him. A plate breaks in the sink.
“Get out, you hood.” And what a load of baloney, the bastard kicks him out of his own Mama’s house like he owns the place.
Chanyeol frowns as Baekhyun’s body goes limp. He sighs, flicking the half smoked ciggy down onto the curled up form beside him. He cracks his knuckles and rolls his shoulders, ready to take on Baekhyun’s fight. He’s not gonna let Baekhyun live this one down for months.
He finds Baekhyun down by the Kroger’s, back against the wall, wolf whistling as skirts stroll by. Chanyeol posts up beside him and they make a game of it. They get louder and more lewd with each cat call.
“Hey, Toots. Why don’t you ride me instead?” Chanyeol shouts at some broad leisurely riding her bike as the sun begins setting. She shoots him a scandalized look and hastily picks up her pace until the bike is actually zipping away into the distance. It’s a fucking hoot and Baekhyun doubles over, loud guffaws escaping his lips.
He finally calms down and straightens up, clapping Chanyeol on the back. “Attaboy, Chanyeol! Let’s go in and get some soda. My buzz’s wearin’ off and my throat’s stickin’ together from all this damned dust.”
The only cashier, some fella with “Kyungsoo” painted across his apron, is busy in the back of the store helping some raisin of an old lady pick out fruits.
Baekhyun’s elbow digs into Chanyeol’s side as he cocks his head towards a shelf of Cola and strolls on over to it, casual as can be. Chanyeol watches as a thin hand winds out and grabs a bottle, sliding it into his pocket.
Chanyeol catches on, grabbing a bundle of crackers from the shelf on his right and shoving them deep into his own pocket. He moves on to a can of prunes. His collar digs into his throat as he’s yanked backwards before he can even put them in his pocket. The can of prunes rolls down the aisle.
“You little hoodlum!” The shopkeeper growls, pulling the collar even tighter around his neck. Guess Grandma’s done peering at peaches. Chanyeol chokes, reaching a hand around to claw at the man’s face. His finger lands on spongy wetness and the man yowls, letting go of Chanyeol’s collar and cupping his eye.
Chanyeol takes this as his cue to bolt. Baekhyun’s already halfway to the door, face lit up in mirth, a tin of cookies clutched in his hand.
Chanyeol grabs a handful of caramel wafers from a bin by the door on his way out.
Baekhyun comes to in his bed. His vision is blurry, ears ringing, and his entire body already aches. He loves the feeling, though. Even as his muscles scream and his head threatens to explode, he practically floats with fulfillment.
As he becomes more aware, the ringing in his ears goes down, and he hears the creak of a chair and deep, drawn out groans. His dick begins stirring at the noise and his head turns to find the source.
Chanyeol is on the only chair in the room, a fist around his dick and stubby fingers shoved up his own ass. Baekhyun’s dick goes completely hard at the sight. Chanyeol always gets horny after a good brawl.
Baekhyun’s in pain and he really doesn’t need this right now. He’s going to regret it, but by god, Chanyeol looks tight as hell.
It doesn’t take long before Baekhyun’s got Chanyeol on his hands and knees in front of him.
The shopkeeper’s shouts still echo in their ears as the sit on a curb, chests heaving, legs sprawled out and burning as they try to catch their breath. The sides of their legs are tightly glued together despite the heat, and Chanyeol wants to get even closer to Baekhyun.
Baekhyun nudges him with his shoulder. “Shove off, would ya? It’s already hot and you’re like a fucking furnace.” He reluctantly scoots over, pulling his knees up to his chest. Baekhyun opens a bottle of Cola against the curb, takes a swig, and offers it to him. He declines.
Baekhyun looks at him with a raised brow. Chanyeol never passes up soda. “What’s eating you?”
And how! Chanyeol can’t even bring himself to tell his best friend what happened at his house. He’s in a weird, introspective mood now and he feels a weight on his shoulders. He simplifies his feelings. “Sometimes I think I’ll die alone and that scares me.”
“How’re you gonna die alone if you don’t even let me breathe?” Baekhyun’s eyes crinkle up in amusement. The street lamp catches them just right and they actually fucking sparkle.
Chanyeol rolls his own eyes. “You’re a real swell guy, Baekhyun.” He snatches the bottle of soda out of the other boy’s hand and takes a long gulp.
“Bullshit. You love me.” Baekhyun swings an arm over his shoulder. “Now lets go find a party.”
Baekhyun had teased him for days after that. Funny thing about it though, Baekhyun hasn’t let Chanyeol feel lonely since.
Baekhyun’s fingers travels up Chanyeol’s spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He stops at his hair and tangles them in the dark tresses, slowing his hips to a slow grind. Usually, they fuck hard and fast, but this slow going feels nice.
Chanyeol moans, and Baekhyun feels his body relaxing beneath him as the fingers massage his scalp. The moan cuts off and he sounds disgruntled when Baekhyun shifts his weight, pressing down on his head.
“Don’t push my fuckin’ head down. It already hurts.” Chanyeol growls, the sound muffled by the press of the sheets. He stops gripping his ass cheeks and swats at Baekhyun’s hand. Baekhyun snorts, but lets up.
“Stop fuckin’ moving.” Baekhyun mumbles and picks up the pace, headache forgotten as pleasure winds its way up his spine. Lube leaks out of Chanyeol’s hole and it’s kinda gross, but better safe than sorry. Chanyeol’s going to be hurting enough as it is once the adrenaline wears down, no need to add to it.
He leans forward and helpfully reaches around to get Chanyeol off faster. He grips Chanyeol’s dick in his palm, rubbing slow circles along the head with his thumb. Chanyeol’s so strung out that that’s all it takes. He orgasms with a high pitched whine, spine arching up and pressing into Baekhyun’s stomach.
Baekhyun’s stomach muscles flutter and his head goes woozy. He’s probably going to pass back out soon. He’s so close though, the tight clench around his dick has him on the edge.
By now, his thighs are fucking burning. He picks up his pace, just as desperate to end the burning as he is to cum. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” Chanyeol groans out a litany from underneath him. “Hurry, you fucker.”
"Yeah’m a fucker. I’m fuckin’ you." Baekhyun grits out from between his teeth. He reckons he’d die if he ever actually told the little shit how much he actually cares about him.
He cums with a cramp in his leg and a ‘Fuck’ caught in his throat.
Later, they lie side by side, Chanyeol’s big toe twitching as they ride out their highs. Baekhyun’s already starting to feel the pain seep back into his body as his orgasm high begins fading. The fucking might have been a bad idea.
“I fucking saved your life.” Baekhyun’s head turns slightly at Chanyeol’s words and his cheek presses into Chanyeol’s shoulder. “That last son of a bitch was a real pain to take down. He almost bumped me off.” Chanyeol’s huge eyes glitter in the light cast by the rising sun through the window. “Lucky for me some chump came stumblin’ down the alley a hootin’ and hollerin’. He got distracted and I was able to get in a punch that took him down.” He tires himself out before even finishing the rest of his story, soft snores filling the slowly brightening room.
They have another job to do for that Italian in Cicero next week: a gig as lookouts near some parking garage. It’s an actual big time job and Baekhyun’s excited. They might make enough money to start a distillery for their own personal use. Hell, they might even make enough dough to stay out of trouble for awhile – Baekhyun doubts it, though.