kris/chanyeol (pg-13) in which chanyeol likes dick; for yeobo

”I DON’T LIKE DICK!” is what Chanyeol screams at noon on that particular rainy Saturday.

“Uh…” Kris steps back, dropping his hands from Chanyeol’s shoulders. “That’s…that’s cool, bro, but I was just wondering if you were going to move. You’re blocking the fridge.”

“Fridge?” Chanyeol looks down to see himself hugging their refrigerator. When did that happen? And why is Kris staring at him as if he has three heads?

“Oh. Ha. HAHA.” Chanyeol unlocks his arms from around the fridge and takes a large step to the right. Kris stares at him, eyes narrowed on his face. “What? Is there something on my face? Oh, that’s right, it’s SEXY! SEXY is on my face. Haha.” Chanyeol laughs, clapping Kris on the shoulder.

Kris doesn’t move, he doesn’t even smile. “Weird ass,” he mutters and pushes Chanyeol out the way so he can finally have his beer.

Embarrassed and wanting to become one with the floorboards, Chanyeol tip toes his way around Kris and out of the kitchen. He yells something to Kris that he hopes sounds like “I’m going to the gym” but instead comes out as “jakldjakslgym” but he’s too embarrassed to correct himself and he just wants to get the hell out of there. He picks up the hood of his sweatshirt, ties the strings so the hood lies flat on his unruly hair and goes for an impromptu run. 

He doesn’t like dick. He swear he doesn’t. Dicks are…well, his dick is okay but other people’s dicks are…

Alright, so it isn’t about dicks. Not entirely, at least.

Lately, Chanyeol has noticed his roommate. Not in the “Oh, Kris is in the room, I wonder if he wants some rice” kind of notice. In the “Oh shit Kris is in the room and…that shirt…he has a nice WAIT NO THIS ISN’T RIGHT” kind of notice.

Chanyeol slaps himself in the face, mourning the loss of his heterosexuality. Kris had always been good looking to him but lately, there’s been a decrease of “he’s good looking for a dude” and an increase of “he has nice lips, I wonder how they would feel.” Chanyeol, who has only had these kinds of thoughts about girls and their breasts and their asses (wow, asses are nice) is disturbed and he thinks there must be some extraneous reason why he feels this way.

He cuts dairy from his diet for a week, thinking the milk hormones did something creepy to his libido. Then Kris walked into the dorm that week without a shirt on and Chanyeol buried himself so deep into his hood so he wouldn’t look. Kris joked his sweater was eating his head. Chanyeol was in pain.

It’s alright to think one’s very male roommate is good looking, there’s no harm in admitting the truth, but wanting to…do things with him? Fucking swooning when he smiled? Okay, Chanyeol is a dude. Dude’s don’t fucking swoon. Girls do. Girls swoon when Chanyeol smiles and when he beat boxes and when he looks at them right in the eyes and smiles that slow smile his ex girlfriend said gave her an infestation in her lower esophagus (never date a double botany and biology major, they are the worst people to take out to eat. Chanyeol never again wants to have his digestion of pork belly narrated to himas he ate it.)

He and Kris are bros, comrades, brothers in arms if those arms are writing utensils and expensive calculators. They work out together, they’re each other’s wingman, they get drunk and pick on each other, their friends, their neighbors.

If Kris buys the groceries for that week, he always remembers to buy Chanyeol’s sparkling water and if Chanyeol goes, he brings back a packet of Kris’ favorite squid jerky. They have a good thing going and Chanyeol has honestly never had a friend like Kris so why isn’t he satisfied with all this?

Turning in for the night makes him anxious because he can never be sure when he’s going to dream about his hot French TA or Kris, pulling him down to the bed and kissing him with the same intensity with which he studies for finals.

Chanyeol’s not gay, okay. He’s not. He’s never been into guys and the thought of another dick isn’t too arousing but he knows what happens when a person ignores their subconscious desires. They start killing people. Or something. He hadn’t paid much attention to his Psychology class last semester.

Still, he hopes this is only a phase. He’s not ready for the rejection or isolation or bad karma an attraction like this can bring.

Chanyeol walks into his living room one morning to find Kris on the couch in only his boxers, a beer can in one hand. Chanyeol holds a hand over his mouth and runs his greedy eyes over Kris’ bare body, paying special attention to the curving dragon tattoo on his left bicep.

This motherfucker. It’s too early in the goddamn morning for a crisis. Chanyeol only speaks when he has a handle on his emotions.

“Yo, put on some pants, dude.”

Kris looks up, “It’s hot. It’s so hot my pants are currently in revolt. They will not listen to my demands.”

Forcing himself to roll his eyes, Chanyeol steps into the kitchen, pinching his face. Hopefully the pain will distract him from making a stupid noise or outwardly gawking at his best bro and roommate. It’s hard to believe only a few weeks ago Chanyeol hung out with Kris normally. It was only when he put a name to his “gay crush” (as he calls it in his head) that it started to ruin his life. And his libido. But that’s awkward to think about so he tries not to.

Even if it is, Chanyeol looks at the clock in their kitchen, seven am, it seems like a nice time for a beer. He pops one open and takes a seat beside Kris, too aware of the bare skin centimeters away from his shoulders.

Chanyeol’s life is unfair.

“What are you doing up so early?” he asks, holding his face by the chin and tilting his head to the floor. He doesn’t want to look.

“I like dick.”

Chanyeol spits lukewarm beer all over himself and turns to look at Kris, face twitching. “W-What the fuck?”

“I like dick,” Kris repeats, turning his sleepy eyes on Chanyeol. “Will that be a problem?”

“Problem?” Chanyeol’s lips can’t stop shaking. “I…no, bro. I mean. You can like whoever you want and stuff. We’re cool. Right?”

It’s hot as fuck in their living room. Kris is staring at him and Chanyeol feels tiny because holy fuck, does he know? Does he know Chanyeol dreamed about him last night? Fuck.

“Ha.” Chanyeol forces a smile.

“What’s so funny?” Kris sounds serious.

Chanyeol’s smile falls. “Oh god, you’re serious.”

“What part of ‘I like dick’ sounds like a joke to you? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Fuck, he’s mad.

“Kris!” Chanyeol takes a deep breath, laying a hand on Kris’ bare shoulder. His skin is hot. “I. I really don’t care. It’s just…so sudden? I’ve never…” Chanyeol drops his hand from Kris’ body; it flops uselessly into his lap. “Sorry. I don’t know. I’ve been freaking out for like a month now because of…stuff. I think I’m nuts.”

Kris touches the back of his hand to Chanyeol’s knee, “Want to talk about it? Is someone bothering you?”

Chanyeol’s heart jumps in his chest. Heart motherfucker how could you betray me! “I guess you could say that,” Chanyeol’s lips twitch. Kris’ eyes are on him again but they’re a bit softer, a bit more understanding. Maybe that chick had been right about infestations in lower esophagi…

“I feel like…a dumb kid,” Chanyeol confesses. “My feelings are all over the place and I’m not used to freaking out over stupid shit like this. I usually just go with the flow.”

“And you can’t do that now? What, Park Chanyeol afraid of rejection? The same Park Chanyeol who confessed to a noona dressed up as her favorite cartoon character?”

“That was…”How high was he that night, seriously.Chanyeol laughs, shaking his head. “That’s different. Rejection’s not the only thing I’m thinking of…”

“Would you like to share with the class?” Kris tugs on some of Chanyeol’s fingers.

Chanyeol blames the kiss on the alcohol. Or lack of alcohol in his system. He suddenly smacks his face into Kris’, smashing their noses and lips together. Both men pull back, swearing and holding their faces. 

“What the hell—”

Chanyeol, flustered, tries to make a run for it. “Wow, look at the time—”

Kris pulls him back to the couch and Chanyeol flails, gangly arms and legs shoving Kris in an effort to escape.

“THIS IS AGAINST THE GENEVA CONVENTION—”

“Shut up and kiss me right, you dumbass. You can’t try to kiss me and make a run for it!”

“I wasn’t trying to kiss you,” says Chanyeol, lying through his teeth because he’s practically in Kris’ lap and this is bad.

“Oh yeah?” Kris cocks his head. “Were you trying to give me mouth to mouth in case I pass out from this heat?”

“Err,” Chanyeol averts his eyes, noticing for the first time his hands are on Kris’ checks. He jumps off of Kris and lands on the floor ass first, panting. “I’m not…I’m not gay and even if I was, I’m not the girl!”

Kris places his beer can on the floor, staring at Chanyeol. “What are you talking about? The girl? What girl?”

“You know…two guys…one of them is the girl. I don’t want it to be me!”

Kris sighs, “You’re stupid.”

“What?” Chanyeol’s suddenly on the defensive. “Am not!”

“Chanyeol. Two guys.” Kris lifts the pointer and middle finger of his right hand. He wiggles them. “Are two guys. There is no girl. That’s a stupid stereotype and you would believe it because, you know, you’re stupid, stupid.”

Chanyeol weakly kicks at Kris’ shin. “I’m not stupid…” he mutters. “Ugh, I fucking hate this.” He flops on the floor. “JUST LET ME DIE HERE WITH MY ANNOYING FEELINGS. Why do feelings exist?”

“Is sulking going to change anything?” Kris moves off the couch, sitting on the floor by Chanyeol’s thighs. Chanyeol tears his eyes away from the muscles of Kris’ abdomen. Motherfucker. “You know, kissing guys isn’t that much different from kissing girls. Lips are all the same.”

“Girls don’t have dicks,” Chanyeol says slowly.

“Please tell me more, Professor Park,” he flicks Chanyeol’s side.

Chanyeol squirms, “What?”

“What?” Kris imitates. “Let’s try again.”

Chanyeol shakes his head. “You’re gay…but I’m not.”

“Who said I was gay? I just said I like dick.”

Chanyeol throws his hands up, “ISN’T THAT THE SAME THING?!”

Kris forms his hand into pinchers and pinches Chanyeol’s face, giving him the dreaded duck lips. He squishes Chanyeol’s face as he talks. “You’re thinking about this too much. This might seem hard to believe but all of this isn’t as important as you think it is. It doesn’t have to have a name and you don’t have to explain anything to anyone. You like what or who you like and that’s it.”

With a pat to Chanyeol’s cheeks, Kris stands up off the floor and picks up his beer can. Chanyeol watches him walk to the kitchen, entirely conscious of all Kris’ movements.

Before he can chicken out, he hops up and runs to the kitchen, slamming Kris up against the refrigerator.

“Son of a…” Kris winces. “We really need to work on your delivery.”

We.

Chanyeol’s stomach lurches. “Shut up.”

Their first real kiss is awkward. Chanyeol’s eyes won’t close. He holds his breath and quickly becomes lightheaded, noticing with a thud in a heart when Kris’ hands fall to his waist. Chanyeol’s kissing his bro, his dude, his best friend, his roommate holy shit— Kris bites down hard on Chanyeol’s bottom lip.

Chanyeol pulls away to protest, “What the hell was that for?”

“Is that how you kiss your girlfriends? We’ll have to work on that too. You suck.”

Chanyeol growls, “I’ll show you who really sucks!”

It’s Kris, he reminds himself. It’s too late for denial. If Kris is willing, Chanyeol should seize this opportunity by the, well, lips and he does. Kris tastes like beer and something else that is inherently Kris, Chanyeol’s roommate, The Guy With the Dragon Tattoo (so much teasing when that movie came out, so much) and it curls something deep and heavy in Chanyeol’s gut.

It’s still a little awkward and when they pull away, there’s a thin line of spit connecting their bottom lips.

“Eugh,” Chanyeol articulates, batting the spit away. His thumb brushes Kris’ lips; Kris parts them in response. A hot shiver worms up Chanyeol’s spine.

“Round two?” asks Kris, puffing hot air into Chanyeol’s neck. “Loser has to do laundry.”

“How do you lose in a kiss? First one to pull away?”

“That can work.”

Oh, Chanyeol can get used to this.

He complies with a small smile, touching a hand to Kris’ side. “Deal.”

By the way, Kris sucks if you know what I mean :-)