Two Asses (Are Better Than One) [2/2]
Two
Baekhyun looks down at his creation for a moment and then seizes his chopsticks, viciously mixing it all together into a multi-coloured mess and leaving it abandoned on the table.
÷
In simpler times, there used to be only seven days in Baekhyun’s week. Now there’s ‘Wear A Hat Day’, and ‘Hump Day’, and ‘Casual Friday’, and ‘Pepero Day’, and ‘Bring Your Pet / Child / Little Brother To Work Day’, to name but a few.
Baekhyun’s schedule is now a blur of so many different Days-with-a-capital-D that the first of April rolls around without him even realising - that is, until he sits down on his chair and falls victim to a not very well-concealed whoopee cushion. The resulting flatulent sound tears through the silence like a pile of documents being ripped in half, and is swiftly followed by a few stifled giggles coming from somewhere outside the office.
Baekhyun sighs.
“Chanyeol, I know you're out there… Come in here, please.”
The snickering dies down and Chanyeol cautiously wanders in, looking sheepish, his cheeks a little red from trying to hold in his laughter.
Baekhyun pulls out the pink rubber inflatable from beneath his backside and waves it accusingly in Chanyeol’s direction.
“I believe this is yours..?” he says sternly.
Chanyeol bites his lip to hide an obviously guilty smile. “Um… Happy April Fools?”
“Just sit down, would you..?”
“I'm sorry.. I thought it'd be funny. I did it to my boss at my old job on April Fools Day, and he laughed so hard he took me out to lunch afterwards. Then as soon as I sat down at the restaurant, I realised he'd done the same thing to me.”
“Yes, well, this is not your old job, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun says coldly. “If you're really that enamoured with your former workplace, maybe you should just go back there. God knows things might regain some semblance of order around here.”
Chanyeol opens his mouth to reply, but then the insult slowly sinks in and he promptly shuts it again. After a feeble attempt at laughing it off, he quietly returns to the task at hand. He looks visibly hurt, and instead of drawing satisfaction from this like he assumed he would, that wounded expression only makes Baekhyun feel like someone who kicks puppies for fun.
Chanyeol barely utters another word after that, which does nothing for Baekhyun’s guilty conscience, but the feelings of guilt don’t last too long. During a client briefing later that morning, Chanyeol undergoes a sudden and unexpected metamorphosis from juvenile, practical-joking delinquent to a young gun firing on all cylinders, looking genuinely interested in the client’s vision for the campaign. He makes a point of asking numerous questions about the brief, even taking it upon himself to put a couple of ideas forward, and Baekhyun has to begrudgingly admit to himself that some of them are really rather good. The client nods at each idea as though actually taking it into consideration; even Minseok and Dara look impressed, shooting surprised glances in Baekhyun’s direction.
Baekhyun would be lying if he said it didn't make his blood boil just a little, having his thunder stolen from him like that - and from a junior, no less. He briefly considers putting Chanyeol in his place, but then decides against it. He may as well face it - he's pretty much a dusty old antique now, and Chanyeol is the fresh meat. That oddball who keeps a collection of pet rocks on his desk and occasionally talks to them as though they can hear him is going to be the agency’s next big thing, and Baekhyun finds the mere thought both infuriating and a little scary.
Well, more than a little scary. It’s actually very scary.
He’s still silently fuming about it while doing his grocery shopping after work, grumpily dumping cartons and containers into his basket and mumbling to himself like a madman.
“Who does he even think he is, pitching ideas without consulting me first..” he mutters under his breath, prompting a few worried glances from the check-out girl serving him, but he’s too absorbed in his own problems to notice.
With his shoulders weighed down by groceries and the world, Baekhyun slowly makes his way back to his car. He doesn’t really expect to stroll past the object of his ire on the way there, assuming that Chanyeol would have cycled off long ago. Instead he stumbles upon his co-worker crouched down next to his bike - or what’s left of it, anyway.
If this is someone’s idea of an April Fools joke, then they’ve really gone all out. At a glance, Chanyeol’s precious vintage bicycle appears to have been completely and utterly wrecked, the cruel handiwork of some heartless individual hell-bent on ruining an undeserving stranger’s day. At first Baekhyun is tempted to silently sneak his way past, but the last drop of human decency left in him won’t let him do it. Resting his bags on the ground, he taps Chanyeol gently on the shoulder, and the other man looks up at him with sad, red-rimmed eyes.
“What on earth happened?” Baekhyun asks, “are you alright..?”
“Yeah...” Chanyeol nods, “I’m okay. Some lovely person’s gone and trashed the absolute shit out of Gwendolyn, though.”
“Well, I can see that.. I’m guessing it’s not reparable?”
Baekhyun looks at the unfortunate remains of Chanyeol’s beloved bike. It seems as though the perpetrator might have somehow freed the bike from its confines, taken it on the joyride of its life, ridden it to its untimely death, and then chained it back where they found it. The seat, pedals and front wheel are all missing, and the rear one has had every spoke bent out of shape and the air let out of its tyre. How someone managed to achieve all of this in broad daylight is a mystery Baekhyun can't quite wrap his head around.
Poor kid. There is no way in hell that can be fixed.
“Well, she's a little beyond repair, I think,” Chanyeol says sadly, shaking his head. “Dammit, I loved that bike so much… I customised her myself and everything. Today just isn’t my day..”
“Listen…” Baekhyun says, still looking at the bike, “do you need a ride home?”
“Oh, no,” Chanyeol says, politely refusing the offer, “you don't have to do that - I can just get the subway. In fact, I think I’ll be taking the subway regularly from now on..”
“Come on,” Baekhyun insists, “it's no trouble.”
Chanyeol looks reluctant. “Are you sure..?”
Baekhyun piles all his bags onto one arm, grabs Chanyeol by the wrist and begins to pull him in the other direction. “Just come with me already.”
“But… should I just leave her there…?”
“Well, I don’t think she’s going to be of much use to you in the state she’s in,” Baekhyun points out, “maybe just take some photos of the damage so you can report the incident later.”
Chanyeol sighs. He looks about three seconds away from crying. “Nah, there’s no point. No one’s going to do anything about it anyway..”
During the drive to Chanyeol’s place, it crosses Baekhyun’s mind several times to apologise for his harsh words earlier in the day, but he wouldn't know how to word it without making it sound contrived, so he doesn't try. He doesn’t consider himself to be a man of feeling or sincerity; he is, after all, a salesman. He has many ways with words, but they don't really extend to situations like this.
It feels a bit too quiet, so Baekhyun turns on the stereo for some background noise. It immediately begins playing a CD he’d forgotten was in there.
‘My my, at Waterloo Napoleon did surrender-’
He quickly turns the stereo off again.
Chanyeol turns his head and looks at Baekhyun incredulously. “Was that an ABBA CD..?”
“No, it was just the radio,” Baekhyun lies, clearing his throat nervously, but he can tell from the tiny smile on Chanyeol’s face that he doesn’t believe him.
They spend the remainder of the trip in silence. Chanyeol stares out the window at the city passing them by, only speaking up to give directions when necessary.
"Just here will be fine,” he says quietly when they eventually pull up outside his apartment building. “Thanks.."
The building Chanyeol lives in is tall, narrow and, for lack of a better word, modest. There are areas where the paint's peeling off in curled sheets, like skin after a bad sunburn. It's a strange colour that Baekhyun has never seen before, and it looks like it might have been brighter once, but it has since faded a few shades lighter. It somehow suits Chanyeol perfectly, especially today. The bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, practical-joking Chanyeol seems long gone, and his replacement looks tired, his spirit more battered and misshapen than the bicycle still chained to the pole where he left it.
Was any of this included in the job description? Is that what Baekhyun looks like after surviving on caffeine and deadlines and the rare sliver of satisfaction when he actually gets to write something worthwhile? Maybe. Only he must look even worse, because he's been doing this for years, and has been on autopilot for the past few of them.
When did his own sense of humour and passion for life go down the shitter?
Baekhyun doesn't really remember what he used to look like before his own vision became clouded over with disillusionment. It all seems so long ago.
Chanyeol thanks him again as he gets out of the car, and Baekhyun watches him shuffle towards the building with his shoulders slumped, slowly putting one foot in front of the other like a down-and-out tightrope walker. Despite his stature, he looks smaller and defeated, and Baekhyun can’t help feeling at least partly responsible for the collapse of his co-worker’s former enthusiasm.
He wonders how big Chanyeol's dreams really are, if they haven't already crumbled away to nothing; if he maybe wants to be where Baekhyun is someday. If he goes to bed in his shoebox of a flat every night and dreams of a flashy car and a nice apartment that's too big for him and a watch worth several months’ pay.
But then Baekhyun wonders if it runs deeper than that; if Chanyeol really loves his work for what it is, with no wishful thoughts of increased social standing or material gain. If those empty lines of copy that mean shit all to Baekhyun mean everything to him. Maybe he still thinks he can change the world somehow, one little word at a time. Or perhaps he dreamed of sticking it to the man when he was younger, just like Baekhyun did, even though the man will only end up sticking it to him.
Maybe Baekhyun really is the anal-retentive, cynical control-freak that Dara always used to accuse him of being. She’d only ever said it in good humour, but there’s usually a bit of truth behind every joke.
I'm taking all of my personal disappointments out on him, and he doesn't deserve that.
Just as Chanyeol's unlocking the main door and about to disappear inside the building, Baekhyun calls out to him.
“Chanyeol, wait. I need to talk to you for a minute.”
Chanyeol turns around, surprised. “Yes?”
Baekhyun beckons him over with his finger, and Chanyeol stoops a little to peer at him through the car window, looking perplexed.
“Do you still want this job, Chanyeol? Or have your illusions been shattered already?”
Chanyeol just looks at Baekhyun blankly. "What do you mean?"
“Look,” Baekhyun sighs, “I'm just asking because this wasn't originally what I planned for myself. I actually have a journalism degree; I only pursued a career in copywriting because I figured I’d be good at it and it would probably pay well... it turns out I was better at it than I thought. Then I got sucked in by the lifestyle and that was it. My job doesn’t really stimulate me anymore - in fact, it hasn’t in a long time - but I'm in too deep, and I don’t know how to get out.”
“Why are you telling me this..?” Chanyeol asks quietly.
“Because I feel like I was unfair on you today,” Baekhyun replies, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “But if you're labouring under the misapprehension that you can eke out a meaningful existence in this business, then you may as well quit right now. I need you to become completely comfortable with the idea of your talents being continually wasted on insignificant things like shampoo commercials and taglines for deodorant; it’s something I still struggle to come to terms with myself. And don’t get cocky. You have talent, there’s no doubt about it - you wouldn’t be where you are if you didn’t. And maybe you’re going to have tonnes of brilliant ideas that you can’t wait to throw on the table, but the truth is, the majority of them are going to be shot down before they even get off the ground, because you’re still a junior. I need to know that you’ll be able to handle that. Maybe things were different where you used to work, but you don’t work for them anymore. You work for me now.”
Chanyeol still looks as though he doesn't really know what to say, but he swallows thickly and nods.
“I… I know. And I can handle it,” he says, but his conviction is betrayed a little by the slight wavering in his voice.
Baekhyun looks at him for a long time, but he can't decide who Chanyeol’s really trying to convince.
“Fine,” he says, “but maybe start taking things a bit more seriously. You seem a little too preoccupied with being the ‘fun guy’ and getting everyone’s approval, but none of that stuff is going to work on me. You don’t actually need to try very hard to get along with me, Chanyeol. You just need to do your job.”
“Okay,” Chanyeol says quietly, “I understand.”
“Good,” Baekhyun nods, “and I’m sorry about Gwendolyn; whoever did that to her is a big old douche canoe. That’s all I have to say, so I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Chanyeol gives a polite bow in response and walks away without another word. Baekhyun waits for him to enter the building and then drives off, wondering who he was really delivering that pep talk to - Chanyeol or himself.
Maybe it was both.
÷
If someone had told Baekhyun only a few months ago that he would end up forging a friendship with the redheaded bane of his existence, then he would have dismissed the idea as being utterly preposterous.
If such a person had then told him that he would find himself willingly (well, half-willingly) accepting an invitation to Chanyeol’s place for dinner, then he would have told them they were insane.
And yet here he is, sitting on the old striped couch in the living room, trying not to tread on Chanyeol’s pet ferret as it darts in and out of the space between his feet. He sips his beer and looks on quietly while his co-worker juggles several pots and pans at once in his little kitchen.
“Are you sure you don’t need any help..?” Baekhyun asks - he doesn’t even really know how to cook, but offering seems like the polite thing to do.
“Don’t be silly,” Chanyeol calls out to him, “you’re the guest. I’ve got it covered.”
Baekhyun looks around while he’s waiting. Chanyeol’s apartment is tiny, but in a way that’s cozy rather than cramped. It’s casually messy and needs a bit of fixing, but it has character. The flaky paint on the walls and the faded curtains and the butt-grooves moulded into the couch cushions make the place feel warm and lived in, unlike Baekhyun’s apartment, which is minimal and clean and seems, well, sterile by comparison.
Chanyeol is a different person in the comfort of his own home - more relaxed and conversational - and he also turns out to be a surprisingly good cook. Everything comes out a little crispier than it probably should be, but the food is still delicious. Baekhyun is impressed.
“You know, you’ve never really told me much about yourself,” Chanyeol says over dinner, “all I really know about you is that you used to write jingles and that you have a secret thing for ABBA.”
Baekhyun glares at him, but he can’t hold it for very long.
“Fine,” he relents, “what do you want to know? I’ll tell you whatever you want, with the proviso that we keep my stint as a jingle writer off the table.”
Chanyeol shrugs and fiddles with his fork. “Tell me anything.”
“Okay,” Baekhyun sighs, “I’m 28 years old, my star sign is Taurus, my blood type is O, and yes, I admit it - I am a big fan of ABBA. Anything else?”
Chanyeol grows quiet for a moment. He leans over to pick Cheezel up off the floor, stroking the ferret as it makes itself comfortable in his lap.
“Don't you have a girlfriend?” he asks shyly, “or... a boyfriend..? Or any pets?”
“None of the above, at the moment,” Baekhyun answers truthfully, “it's just me, really.”
Chanyeol shrugs and resumes playing with Cheezel. “Same. I just have Cheezel here. Not that we have that kind of relationship or anything… I assure you we're strictly platonic.”
Baekhyun nearly chokes on his beer. “I’m glad to hear it. But it’s quite sweet, really. You’re like a little ginger family.”
“Well, I’m not a natural redhead, but yeah, I suppose we are..” Chanyeol says with a smile. “You’ll never guess what I got us for dessert, by the way.”
Baekhyun sees the mischief in Chanyeol’s expression and the penny drops instantly. “You didn’t.”
Chanyeol smiles knowingly and puts Cheezel on the floor to scurry elsewhere. He bounces over to the freezer and pulls out a box of Banana Bars, which he opens and throws onto the table.
Baekhyun looks at the box and sighs.
“Go on,” Chanyeol says encouragingly, “have one. Make peace with your past. You know you want to.”
Baekhyun reluctantly accepts one of the frozen treats and unwraps it.
“I will never understand why people even buy this shit. It tastes like… well, shit.”
“No way,” Chanyeol replies, frowning, “artificial banana is the best flavour of anything ever.”
“Don’t look at me,” Baekhyun whines, “I don’t really feel comfortable making eye contact with you while I have this in my mouth.”
“Well, I happen to like Banana Bars - I find them very a-peeling,” Chanyeol says, and he lasts all of three seconds before bursting into laughter at his own terrible joke. Baekhyun rolls his eyes and doesn’t even dignify it with a snort.
“You know… I was actually stoned when I wrote the Banana Bar jingle,” he pipes up, “there’s a fun fact for you..”
Chanyeol licks his popsicle stick clean and drops it onto the table. “Really? I never pegged you for a pothead.”
“Yeah,” Baekhyun admits, leaving his half-eaten Banana Bar to melt on his plate. “I was higher than a kite when I wrote most of my jingles. I try not to make a habit of it anymore, but I still have the occasional puff. Nobody’s perfect, I guess.”
Chanyeol shrugs. “Perfection is overrated. Have you ever heard that Salvador Dali quote ‘do not fear perfection, you will never reach it’ ? Well, that’s my favourite quote ever. Some people might think that's a bleak and limiting thing to say, but I think it's quite liberating and hopeful. The idea of being a work in progress for the rest of my life... I really love that.”
Baekhyun looks at Chanyeol for a moment, surprised by the depth of his words, but then he smiles. “Wasn’t he the same guy that said 'I don't do drugs - I am drugs’..?”
“Yeah, he did. I think that one relates more to you,” Chanyeol says, grinning widely. He looks quite lovely when he smiles. Something about it makes Baekhyun’s stomach turn somersaults.
He decides to blame it on the food instead.
÷
The next morning, Baekhyun sits at his desk, listlessly dunking a biscuit in his coffee. He can’t cope with all the confused, conflicted thoughts tumbling around inside his head like a washing machine on spin-cycle, and he’s in no mood to be here. He’s not prepared for the morning’s presentation at all, and right now, the thought of speaking in front of a group of people makes him want to dive under his desk.
He looks up as Chanyeol waltzes into the office, looking chipper as always.
“Shhh,” Baekhyun hisses before Chanyeol even has a chance to open his mouth. He presses a finger to his lips. “This requires perfect timing and concentration.”
Just as he’s saying this, the biscuit he’s holding breaks in half and dissolves into a sea of brown. He tries in vain to salvage it with his spoon.
“Ah, shit.. I over-dunked,” he mutters to no one in particular. “I fucking hate it when that happens. Now I’m going to have biscuit sludge at the bottom. I don’t like this, this is a bad omen..”
“I was just about to get a coffee myself,” Chanyeol pipes up, gesturing in the direction of the office kitchen, “do you want me to get you a fresh one..?”
“No, no...” Baekhyun mumbles, burying his head in his hands. “Just... Leave me for a moment. I need to mentally prepare myself for the unholy shit-canning that will befall me if I don’t pull a miracle out of my arse within the next fifteen minutes.”
Chanyeol shrugs. “Alrighty. Let me know if you change your mind.”
Baekhyun’s forehead is still glued to his desk when Chanyeol returns a little later. He feels a hand rest comfortingly on his shoulder.
“It’ll be okay, Baekhyun. You’ll do great.”
“I don’t know,” Baekhyun mumbles against the hard surface. “I’m not so sure about that this time..”
“Just go in there and do what you always do. You’ll be fine, I promise.”
Baekhyun sighs and lifts his head from the desk, realising that there’s a post-it note stuck to his forehead. He peels it off, scrunches it into a ball and flicks it away.
“I hope you’re right..” he says as he slowly gets up from his seat. “We’d better get going, then.”
The walk to the conference room is like being led to the gallows, and Baekhyun can feel the bullets of sweat exuding from every pore. The sound of Chanyeol’s footsteps close behind him provides little in the way of comfort, but it’s something, and he’s thankful for that at least.
He drags his feet through the door against their will and takes the seat next to Minseok, which also happens to be the closest one to the exit. Chanyeol sits on his other side.
The presentation begins as soon as everyone’s seated. Minseok calls up Dara and Baekhyun to present to the client. Dara takes them through the visual concept of the ad, presenting with aplomb as she always does, but when it’s Baekhyun’s turn to speak, he looks at the sea of expectant faces before him (it feels like a sea, but it’s probably only about ten people) and he clams up. He opens his mouth to speak, and nothing comes out. As far as worst nightmares go, it feels like such a cliché.
Minseok shoots him a worrying look that could mean ‘are you okay?’, ‘just fucking say something’ or ‘your arse is grass’ - or possibly a combination of all three.
The awkward silence is excruciating. He can hear confused whispers and the sound of Dara clearing her throat nervously next to him. At this point, Minseok looks like he’s about to blow his stack right off. Baekhyun closes his eyes, quietly willing himself to liquefy into a puddle of shame and soak into the navy blue conference-room carpet. Then he hears someone get up from their seat to stand next to him, and he opens his eyes again.
“If I may, ladies and gents, Mr. Byun actually originally asked me to give today's presentation in his stead.. so I'll take over from here.”
Having said this, Chanyeol gives Baekhyun a friendly wink as if to say ‘don't worry, I got this’.
Minseok frowns and looks to Baekhyun for confirmation. “Is that okay with you, Baekhyun? Dara..?
“Uh, yeah...” Baekhyun replies, swallowing nervously. “Yes, that's correct. He’s keen to improve his presentation skills, and I thought it would be a good opportunity for him to do so..”
“I’m fine with it,” Dara adds.
Baekhyun resumes his seat next to Minseok, and the relief of having narrowly escaped a potentially disastrous situation floods through him, but it doesn’t stop him feeling enormously disappointed in himself.
Baekhyun used to feel so at home in this room - more at home than he felt in his actual home. Standing in front of a bunch of suits, cracking out quick and snappy concepts, soaking up the respect and admiration of everyone present - that was his specialty. But having the respect and admiration of people he doesn’t really care about suddenly seems so empty and worthless; a little like all the awards won over the years for campaigns he was never particularly proud of.
He watches Chanyeol handle the rest of the presentation entirely on his own, and it’s like looking at a much taller version of himself - or what he used to be like, back when he was young and enthusiastic and actually felt like he was good at his job. He’s completely reeled in by the passion and conviction with which Chanyeol speaks, as though he’s talking about things that are actually important, and not merely pitching copy for a magazine ad.
He has to hand it to the kid - he’s good. Baekhyun feels his stomach doing that funny acrobatic thing again, just like it did when Chanyeol smiled at him last night. He is proud as punch.
And maybe just a little bit in love.
Baekhyun shakes his head. No, he’s not. He’s not in love at all. He simply hasn’t fully recovered from being in panic mode earlier… yes, that’s all it is. This odd sensation will surely pass.
But then, he hasn’t really been in love before; how would he even know what being in love feels like?
God, what if it is love?
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Baekhyun says to Chanyeol after the meeting is over, “but… thank you. I owe you one.”
Chanyeol shrugs and smiles. “It’s okay, we all have our off days. What are friends for?”
“I don’t think I’m having an off day,” Baekhyun sighs, sinking into his chair, “maybe more like an off year… I really need a holiday.”
“Why don’t you ask for some time off?” Chanyeol suggests, “I’m sure they’d give it to you; you’re always working like a dog.”
Baekhyun looks at Chanyeol for a long time, chewing his lip in silence. “You know what?” he says eventually, getting up off his seat, “you’re right. I think I just really need to get away...”
I need to get away from this place.
I need to get away from you.
÷
Quitting his job turns out to be much easier than Baekhyun thought it would be. If anything, it feels incredibly anti-climactic when he thinks about all those agonising hours he spent weighing up his options and losing sleep over his decision.
The only hard part is having to break it to Chanyeol.
“Please don’t mention this to him; I want to tell him myself, when the time is right,” he’d told Minseok upon turning in his resignation letter, and his boss had quietly agreed. But the time just never feels right. And then, before he knows it, he runs out of days.
Baekhyun had always imagined that his last day on the job would be a more memorable occasion, but it just feels like any other day. Everyone in the office seems to go about their business as they usually do, and Baekhyun is secretly glad; the last thing he wants is for anyone to make an unnecessary fuss over him. It serves as a sobering reminder that he is ultimately expendable; he’ll be replaced soon enough, and life will go on just as it did before.
As expected, Chanyeol is upset upon finally hearing the news.
“How could you leave me in the dark until the last minute?” he says sadly, watching Baekhyun pack his box of belongings into his car. “Aren’t we friends..?”
“Of course we are,” Baekhyun sighs, “but I didn't want you to try and stop me.”
“I wouldn't have stopped you, you dork. I knew your heart wasn’t in it anymore… I’m not stupid.”
Baekhyun stops what he’s doing and looks at Chanyeol, surprised. “You knew..?”
“Of course I knew. And if you had just trusted me enough to tell me, then I would have been right behind you all the way. I would have made pompoms with bits of potentially incriminating documents salvaged from the paper shredder, and cheered you on while you did your final victory lap of the office.”
“Well, that would have been a very grand exit,” Baekhyun says with a chuckle. “Should we go up and do it again..?”
“It certainly wasn't an exit fit for a legend,” Chanyeol says quietly, “not in my book..”
“That’s very sweet, Chanyeol, but I’m hardly a legend,” Baekhyun sighs, opening the driver’s door and collapsing into his seat. “I’m just someone with a talent for writing the kind of twaddle that ordinary folk tend to fall for. It’s not really something I’m proud of.”
“Hey. It’s a noble profession, I'll have you know,” Chanyeol says with a lopsided grin.
Baekhyun shrugs. “Someone's got to do it, I suppose.”
Chanyeol nods. “So… what are you going to do now?”
“You know what? I really don’t know,” Baekhyun replies honestly. “And I know it should scare the shit out of me, but I think I’m actually okay with that. However, I did finally book myself some last-minute plane tickets. About time I did something impulsive..”
“Where to?”
“Phuket. I leave in a couple of days.”
“Ah..” Chanyeol replies, his voice trailing off into silence.
“To be honest, Chanyeol, I kind of hated my job before I met you,” Baekhyun admits. “Although I found you a little… unusual at first, I think you were probably the only really good thing about working here. And I’m proud of you; I really am.”
He searches Chanyeol's face for a reaction, but it's unreadable.
“Well, I just thought you should know that. I’m sure you want to go home, so I won’t keep you any longer..”
Baekhyun pulls the door shut and starts the car. Just as he does this, Chanyeol knocks on the window, gesturing for him to open it.
“Baekhyun, wait a minute.”
Baekhyun sticks his head out, looking up at Chanyeol curiously. “Yeah?”
Chanyeol presses his lips into a thin line and turns red. “I like you.”
“Well, likewise, I guess…” Baekhyun says hesitantly.
“No,” Chanyeol shakes his head, “I really like you - the real you; the one that came to my place and willingly ate my shitty cooking and laughed at my dumb jokes. I like the Baekhyun beneath that tough exterior. Once you peel that bitter skin away, on the inside you're... Well, you're sweet. And kinda mushy. And lovely-”
“Okay,” Baekhyun interrupts him, laughing nervously, “the banana comparisons are making me a little uncomfortable..”
Chanyeol smiles. He clearly can’t help himself. “And very a-peeling.”
Baekhyun snorts and rolls his eyes. “That old chestnut.”
Chanyeol is still smiling, but it quickly fades away, and he looks at Baekhyun expectantly as though waiting for him to say something back. Eventually his face falls a little and Baekhyun knows he’s missed his chance, so he swallows the unsaid words and lets them form a hard lump of regret in his throat.
“Well, provided I don't get taken out by a rogue coconut, I guess I'll see you around.”
“When you’re back, we should go get lunch together sometime - if you want to, of course…” Chanyeol offers, and he looks so hopeful that it’s actually heartbreaking.
Baekhyun nods. “Maybe. I’ll… I’ll let you know.”
“Have fun. And take care of yourself. Don't stand under any palm trees.”
“Don’t worry, I won't,” Baekhyun reassures him, smiling.
He gives Chanyeol a final wave and begins to reverse out of his parking space - the same reserved parking space he’s been using for the past several years - and then it hits him. It seems so trivial, but he will never park in that space again. He has no reason or obligation to show up at this place anymore. This is it. It’s all over. He is overwhelmed with relief - and also strangely devastated.
Although he can feel Chanyeol watching him as he drives away, Baekhyun can’t bring himself to look back. The lump in his throat is still there.
÷
Phuket is nice. It should be amazing, really, but that’s all it is - just nice.
Baekhyun knows he should be enjoying this trip more than he actually is - he certainly paid enough for it. He has a beautiful private cabin right on the beach, and a masseuse that comes to knead the knots out of his back and shoulders every morning. The resort he’s staying at has a poolside bar that he can swim right up to and order whatever concoction takes his fancy. The food is great. The people are friendly and hospitable.
This is paradise, or at least, everything he’d imagined paradise to be. So why does he feel so empty?
Maybe because he has no one to share it with.
He’d thought - or at least hoped - that he'd find his bearings again after having a bit of time to relax. Instead Baekhyun arrives back home feeling no different - a little less tense, perhaps, but his heart and mind are both in the exact same mixed-up place they were in before he left.
Upon entering his apartment for the first time in two weeks, he drops his bags on the floor and rests his hands on the granite countertop in the kitchen. It’s cold and hard and reminds him of a mortuary slab.
He wanders into the living room, where the smooth, leather-covered couch has no butt-grooves; he doesn’t remember the last time he curled up there to lose himself in a book, or enjoy a film, or cackle himself silly at a stupid variety show. There are no mouth-watering cooking smells permeating the air; no tiny tumbleweeds of ferret fur rolling across vast plains of well-worn beige carpet. The tiled floors are white and spotless, and show no signs of either coming or going.
The walls are a perfect pale grey, and they hold no framed memories. They have not seen love or laughter, nor have they borne witness to a life well lived.
Baekhyun drags himself to the bathroom and peers at his face in the mirror. He looks so old and worn out that he almost doesn’t recognise his own reflection. He forces a smile to see if it will help, but it doesn’t.
Baekhyun doesn’t know the person staring back at him at all. The real Baekhyun is somewhere else.
He needs to find him.
÷
Baekhyun can’t quite explain how he ended up sitting outside Chanyeol’s apartment building on a Wednesday night, trying to work up the courage to dial the other’s number.
Actually, he can - first he hired a tandem bicycle on a whim, and then he rode it there, alone - but it’s the thought process behind it that has him baffled. He’s not a particularly spontaneous person. Some would dismiss this kind of thing as being crazy, and perhaps a little stalkerish… but Baekhyun calls it being in love, and wanting to finally do something about it - and not having any better ideas.
He pulls his phone from his pocket and searches through his contacts for Chanyeol’s number. He then stares at the number for a long time, for no apparent reason.
Just dial the fucking number, you little bitch.
Shut up.
No you shut up.
After arguing with himself for several minutes, Baekhyun exhales shakily and presses the dial button. His heart races when a familiar deep voice answers the phone.
“Baekhyun, is that you..?”
“Yeah, it’s me. What are you doing right now?”
“A whole lot of nothing. Why..?”
“I was wondering if you’d like to go for an unplanned evening ride around the neighbourhood.”
Chanyeol pauses for a moment. “In what? Your car?”
“No,” Baekhyun replies, “just come outside. You’ll see what I mean soon enough.”
“Okay. I’ll be right down.”
Chanyeol emerges from the building a few minutes later, casually dressed in jeans and a hoodie, but still looking even more handsome than Baekhyun remembers him being. Absence must make the eyes grow fonder, as well as the heart.
Chanyeol’s eyes widen when he sees the bike. “Wow. Did you buy that..?”
“Sadly, no…” Baekhyun replies, “I hired it. Do you like it?
“It’s amazing… I’ve always wanted to ride a tandem; I’ve just never really had anyone to ride with,” Chanyeol smiles, “until now, anyway. So… how have you been..?”
Baekhyun nods. “I’ve been okay. We can talk more while we’re riding. Do you want to take the front? You probably know your way around here better than I do..”
“Sure.”
It takes Baekhyun a while to get used to riding with Chanyeol - he pedals too quickly, for one thing, and Baekhyun finds it hard to keep up - but it’s a clear, perfect evening, and Chanyeol smells really good, and being this close to the object of his affections after so long feels really nice - even if he’s only staring at his back.
“So what have you been doing with yourself, Baek? People at work are always telling me how much they miss you, you know.”
“You’re probably just saying that,” Baekhyun laughs, “but anyway, I’m freelancing now, which is great. I’m getting a lot of interesting, varied work - maybe even too much work..”
“That’s great,” Chanyeol says quietly. “I really miss working for you, but I’m happy that you’re happy.”
“You know, when I’m a little more established, maybe we could start a business,” Baekhyun suggests, “just you and I, together.”
“You mean you want me to work for you again?”
“Well, I suppose, yes,” Baekhyun replies, “but I don’t want you to work for me, Chanyeol. I’d like you to work with me. I think we work well together, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Chanyeol laughs, “we do.”
They continue riding together in silence for a while. The streets of Chanyeol’s neighbourhood are quiet, with no one out and about apart from the occasional passing car and a few people walking their dogs.
Perfect, Baekhyun thinks. Now I can make a complete idiot out of myself with no witnesses.
“You know, the company I rented this bike from mainly hires out tandems,” he says eventually. “Do you know what their slogan was? ‘Two asses are better than one.’ I thought that was great. It’s really fitting, in a way, given what I’m about to say…”
Chanyeol continues pedaling in silence, and Baekhyun almost loses his nerve, but he reminds himself that he didn’t come this far just to chicken out now.
“I really like you too. That was what I should have said on the day I left. But the words kind of wouldn’t come out at the time, so I’m saying them now instead. And I’m scared, because it’s always been just me. I’m used to that. I’m standoffish and self-centred, and people often accuse me of being a grouch, and maybe I can’t even make you happy like you deserve… but I really want to try. I hope I’m not too late in saying that.”
“Well, better late than never, Baek,” Chanyeol replies softly, and although Baekhyun can’t see the other’s face, he can tell from his voice that he’s probably smiling.
“I know. To be honest, I didn’t really enjoy my holiday at all …” he admits, feeling his face heating up, and it’s not from the physical exertion of pedalling. He’s thankful that Chanyeol is seated in front of him and can’t see the emotion laid bare in his expression; all those feelings that he’s so used to hiding. But he can’t keep them from cracking the surface of his voice.
“For the whole time I was away, all I could think about was you, Chanyeol,” he says quietly. “Just you.”
Chanyeol is silent again for a while. “Let’s take a break over here,” he says eventually.
“What, now..?”
“Yes,” Chanyeol says softly, and with his heart pounding in his throat, Baekhyun lets him steer them over to the side of the road.
As soon as they’ve stopped, Chanyeol hops off the front seat and turns around to look at Baekhyun, cradling his face in large, gentle hands, and then he kisses him. Although surprised at first, Baekhyun soon melts into the embrace with little thought for his inhibitions or what any onlookers might be thinking. He throws his arms around Chanyeol’s neck and stops worrying about the fact that his own lips are dry and chapped and haven’t touched anyone else’s in so long - none of that matters anymore, because Chanyeol’s lips are soft, and his breath tastes sweet, and he might be incredibly weird, but he is also incredibly beautiful.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long,” Chanyeol whispers, gently touching Baekhyun’s face with his fingers, and with a soft chuckle, he adds, “oddly enough, I first realised I felt that way when I saw the look on your face after you fell for my little whoopee cushion prank..”
Before Baekhyun can say anything more, Chanyeol steals any remaining words right out of his mouth with more kisses. There are no words that could really do justice to a moment like this anyway, Baekhyun thinks, but then again, words aren’t always necessary.
“Let me take you out to dinner,” he whispers when they eventually pause for breath. “On Saturday night, if you’re free.”
Chanyeol considers the invitation for a moment and cracks a mischievous grin. “I’ll say yes if you come over to my place for a Banana Bar afterwards.”
“Alright,” Baekhyun sighs, “but only if you eat mine for me.”
Chanyeol laughs and kisses him once more. “Deal.”
÷
A few days later, Baekhyun is back waiting out the front of Chanyeol's building again - but in his car, this time.
Chanyeol hurries out of the front door soon afterwards, all decked out in a black suit and red satin bowtie. He gets in the car and kisses Baekhyun hello. He looks great.
Baekhyun is feeling generous today, so he mentally awards Chanyeol a score of 200 Sexy Points out of 10.
"Oh my. You scrub up well, don't you?"
"Mmm. So do you," Chanyeol purrs, kissing Baekhyun again. "You look fantastic. Are you on tonight's menu, by any chance..?"
"Alright, settle down," Baekhyun laughs, pushing him off. "We'll never get there if we keep this up.."
He'd be lying if he said he didn't love it, though.
The restaurant he takes Chanyeol to is the epitome of fancy. Chanyeol whistles in admiration when they walk in, taking in the opulent surroundings.
"Wow. This place is nice."
"I know," Baekhyun replies as a waiter leads them to a table by the window, "I wanted to take you somewhere special. You know - to make our first date really memorable."
"Oh, I'm sure it will be memorable," Chanyeol says, grinning. He moves quickly to pull out Baekhyun's chair for him. "Please. Allow me."
"Why, thank you, sir," Baekhyun replies courteously, and delicately lowers his behind onto the plush velvet cushion.
Then a sound much like a mini orchestra of farts rips through the quiet atmosphere, and Baekhyun freezes in his seat.
Couples at neighbouring tables shoot him distasteful looks. Chanyeol sits in the seat opposite him and clasps his hands together on the starched white tablecloth, waiting for Baekhyun to react with an expectant, infuriating smile.
Baekhyun covers his face with one hand to hide his embarrassment and reaches beneath the seat of his pants. He extracts a flattened whoopee cushion and dumps it in front of Chanyeol.
"Do I even need to say anything..?" he says, lips pursed tightly together.
"Aww, don't look at me like that," Chanyeol laughs, "I only wanted tonight to be really memorable too, you know. Think of it this way - now you'll always remember the particulars of our first date in vivid, excruciating detail."
Baekhyun glares daggers at the demon sitting opposite him, nostrils flaring. Chanyeol reaches across the table to hold both of his hands, squeezing them gently, and he flashes Baekhyun a sweet, sincere smile.
Baekhyun can't help himself - he can't stay mad at a face like that.
Dammit. He's good. He's really good.
Baekhyun smiles and squeezes Chanyeol's hands in return.
I am gonna get him back so bad.
It's only a matter of time.
÷
My my, I tried to hold you back, but you were stronger
Oh yeah, and now it seems my only chance is giving up the fight
And how could I ever refuse?
I feel like I win when I lose
A/N:
I know very little about keeping to a prompt, working in advertising, or life in general. Oh well - enjoy!
Addition with edit: It has been brought to my attention that the way I worded the sombrero scene could be considered offensive, so I have reworded it. Hopefully no further offense will be caused to any future readers of this fic, and I apologise to those who were offended before the revision was made. Enjoy!
Mod note: This fic has been edited with revisions from the author the day of. Mods cannot alter anyone's creative work nor modify their opinions. If anyone comes across any issues throughout the exchange, please notify us through our many methods of getting in contact. We really appreciate it. Thanks!
One | Two
Baekhyun looks down at his creation for a moment and then seizes his chopsticks, viciously mixing it all together into a multi-coloured mess and leaving it abandoned on the table.
÷
In simpler times, there used to be only seven days in Baekhyun’s week. Now there’s ‘Wear A Hat Day’, and ‘Hump Day’, and ‘Casual Friday’, and ‘Pepero Day’, and ‘Bring Your Pet / Child / Little Brother To Work Day’, to name but a few.
Baekhyun’s schedule is now a blur of so many different Days-with-a-capital-D that the first of April rolls around without him even realising - that is, until he sits down on his chair and falls victim to a not very well-concealed whoopee cushion. The resulting flatulent sound tears through the silence like a pile of documents being ripped in half, and is swiftly followed by a few stifled giggles coming from somewhere outside the office.
Baekhyun sighs.
“Chanyeol, I know you're out there… Come in here, please.”
The snickering dies down and Chanyeol cautiously wanders in, looking sheepish, his cheeks a little red from trying to hold in his laughter.
Baekhyun pulls out the pink rubber inflatable from beneath his backside and waves it accusingly in Chanyeol’s direction.
“I believe this is yours..?” he says sternly.
Chanyeol bites his lip to hide an obviously guilty smile. “Um… Happy April Fools?”
“Just sit down, would you..?”
“I'm sorry.. I thought it'd be funny. I did it to my boss at my old job on April Fools Day, and he laughed so hard he took me out to lunch afterwards. Then as soon as I sat down at the restaurant, I realised he'd done the same thing to me.”
“Yes, well, this is not your old job, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun says coldly. “If you're really that enamoured with your former workplace, maybe you should just go back there. God knows things might regain some semblance of order around here.”
Chanyeol opens his mouth to reply, but then the insult slowly sinks in and he promptly shuts it again. After a feeble attempt at laughing it off, he quietly returns to the task at hand. He looks visibly hurt, and instead of drawing satisfaction from this like he assumed he would, that wounded expression only makes Baekhyun feel like someone who kicks puppies for fun.
Chanyeol barely utters another word after that, which does nothing for Baekhyun’s guilty conscience, but the feelings of guilt don’t last too long. During a client briefing later that morning, Chanyeol undergoes a sudden and unexpected metamorphosis from juvenile, practical-joking delinquent to a young gun firing on all cylinders, looking genuinely interested in the client’s vision for the campaign. He makes a point of asking numerous questions about the brief, even taking it upon himself to put a couple of ideas forward, and Baekhyun has to begrudgingly admit to himself that some of them are really rather good. The client nods at each idea as though actually taking it into consideration; even Minseok and Dara look impressed, shooting surprised glances in Baekhyun’s direction.
Baekhyun would be lying if he said it didn't make his blood boil just a little, having his thunder stolen from him like that - and from a junior, no less. He briefly considers putting Chanyeol in his place, but then decides against it. He may as well face it - he's pretty much a dusty old antique now, and Chanyeol is the fresh meat. That oddball who keeps a collection of pet rocks on his desk and occasionally talks to them as though they can hear him is going to be the agency’s next big thing, and Baekhyun finds the mere thought both infuriating and a little scary.
Well, more than a little scary. It’s actually very scary.
He’s still silently fuming about it while doing his grocery shopping after work, grumpily dumping cartons and containers into his basket and mumbling to himself like a madman.
“Who does he even think he is, pitching ideas without consulting me first..” he mutters under his breath, prompting a few worried glances from the check-out girl serving him, but he’s too absorbed in his own problems to notice.
With his shoulders weighed down by groceries and the world, Baekhyun slowly makes his way back to his car. He doesn’t really expect to stroll past the object of his ire on the way there, assuming that Chanyeol would have cycled off long ago. Instead he stumbles upon his co-worker crouched down next to his bike - or what’s left of it, anyway.
If this is someone’s idea of an April Fools joke, then they’ve really gone all out. At a glance, Chanyeol’s precious vintage bicycle appears to have been completely and utterly wrecked, the cruel handiwork of some heartless individual hell-bent on ruining an undeserving stranger’s day. At first Baekhyun is tempted to silently sneak his way past, but the last drop of human decency left in him won’t let him do it. Resting his bags on the ground, he taps Chanyeol gently on the shoulder, and the other man looks up at him with sad, red-rimmed eyes.
“What on earth happened?” Baekhyun asks, “are you alright..?”
“Yeah...” Chanyeol nods, “I’m okay. Some lovely person’s gone and trashed the absolute shit out of Gwendolyn, though.”
“Well, I can see that.. I’m guessing it’s not reparable?”
Baekhyun looks at the unfortunate remains of Chanyeol’s beloved bike. It seems as though the perpetrator might have somehow freed the bike from its confines, taken it on the joyride of its life, ridden it to its untimely death, and then chained it back where they found it. The seat, pedals and front wheel are all missing, and the rear one has had every spoke bent out of shape and the air let out of its tyre. How someone managed to achieve all of this in broad daylight is a mystery Baekhyun can't quite wrap his head around.
Poor kid. There is no way in hell that can be fixed.
“Well, she's a little beyond repair, I think,” Chanyeol says sadly, shaking his head. “Dammit, I loved that bike so much… I customised her myself and everything. Today just isn’t my day..”
“Listen…” Baekhyun says, still looking at the bike, “do you need a ride home?”
“Oh, no,” Chanyeol says, politely refusing the offer, “you don't have to do that - I can just get the subway. In fact, I think I’ll be taking the subway regularly from now on..”
“Come on,” Baekhyun insists, “it's no trouble.”
Chanyeol looks reluctant. “Are you sure..?”
Baekhyun piles all his bags onto one arm, grabs Chanyeol by the wrist and begins to pull him in the other direction. “Just come with me already.”
“But… should I just leave her there…?”
“Well, I don’t think she’s going to be of much use to you in the state she’s in,” Baekhyun points out, “maybe just take some photos of the damage so you can report the incident later.”
Chanyeol sighs. He looks about three seconds away from crying. “Nah, there’s no point. No one’s going to do anything about it anyway..”
During the drive to Chanyeol’s place, it crosses Baekhyun’s mind several times to apologise for his harsh words earlier in the day, but he wouldn't know how to word it without making it sound contrived, so he doesn't try. He doesn’t consider himself to be a man of feeling or sincerity; he is, after all, a salesman. He has many ways with words, but they don't really extend to situations like this.
It feels a bit too quiet, so Baekhyun turns on the stereo for some background noise. It immediately begins playing a CD he’d forgotten was in there.
‘My my, at Waterloo Napoleon did surrender-’
He quickly turns the stereo off again.
Chanyeol turns his head and looks at Baekhyun incredulously. “Was that an ABBA CD..?”
“No, it was just the radio,” Baekhyun lies, clearing his throat nervously, but he can tell from the tiny smile on Chanyeol’s face that he doesn’t believe him.
They spend the remainder of the trip in silence. Chanyeol stares out the window at the city passing them by, only speaking up to give directions when necessary.
"Just here will be fine,” he says quietly when they eventually pull up outside his apartment building. “Thanks.."
The building Chanyeol lives in is tall, narrow and, for lack of a better word, modest. There are areas where the paint's peeling off in curled sheets, like skin after a bad sunburn. It's a strange colour that Baekhyun has never seen before, and it looks like it might have been brighter once, but it has since faded a few shades lighter. It somehow suits Chanyeol perfectly, especially today. The bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, practical-joking Chanyeol seems long gone, and his replacement looks tired, his spirit more battered and misshapen than the bicycle still chained to the pole where he left it.
Was any of this included in the job description? Is that what Baekhyun looks like after surviving on caffeine and deadlines and the rare sliver of satisfaction when he actually gets to write something worthwhile? Maybe. Only he must look even worse, because he's been doing this for years, and has been on autopilot for the past few of them.
When did his own sense of humour and passion for life go down the shitter?
Baekhyun doesn't really remember what he used to look like before his own vision became clouded over with disillusionment. It all seems so long ago.
Chanyeol thanks him again as he gets out of the car, and Baekhyun watches him shuffle towards the building with his shoulders slumped, slowly putting one foot in front of the other like a down-and-out tightrope walker. Despite his stature, he looks smaller and defeated, and Baekhyun can’t help feeling at least partly responsible for the collapse of his co-worker’s former enthusiasm.
He wonders how big Chanyeol's dreams really are, if they haven't already crumbled away to nothing; if he maybe wants to be where Baekhyun is someday. If he goes to bed in his shoebox of a flat every night and dreams of a flashy car and a nice apartment that's too big for him and a watch worth several months’ pay.
But then Baekhyun wonders if it runs deeper than that; if Chanyeol really loves his work for what it is, with no wishful thoughts of increased social standing or material gain. If those empty lines of copy that mean shit all to Baekhyun mean everything to him. Maybe he still thinks he can change the world somehow, one little word at a time. Or perhaps he dreamed of sticking it to the man when he was younger, just like Baekhyun did, even though the man will only end up sticking it to him.
Maybe Baekhyun really is the anal-retentive, cynical control-freak that Dara always used to accuse him of being. She’d only ever said it in good humour, but there’s usually a bit of truth behind every joke.
I'm taking all of my personal disappointments out on him, and he doesn't deserve that.
Just as Chanyeol's unlocking the main door and about to disappear inside the building, Baekhyun calls out to him.
“Chanyeol, wait. I need to talk to you for a minute.”
Chanyeol turns around, surprised. “Yes?”
Baekhyun beckons him over with his finger, and Chanyeol stoops a little to peer at him through the car window, looking perplexed.
“Do you still want this job, Chanyeol? Or have your illusions been shattered already?”
Chanyeol just looks at Baekhyun blankly. "What do you mean?"
“Look,” Baekhyun sighs, “I'm just asking because this wasn't originally what I planned for myself. I actually have a journalism degree; I only pursued a career in copywriting because I figured I’d be good at it and it would probably pay well... it turns out I was better at it than I thought. Then I got sucked in by the lifestyle and that was it. My job doesn’t really stimulate me anymore - in fact, it hasn’t in a long time - but I'm in too deep, and I don’t know how to get out.”
“Why are you telling me this..?” Chanyeol asks quietly.
“Because I feel like I was unfair on you today,” Baekhyun replies, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “But if you're labouring under the misapprehension that you can eke out a meaningful existence in this business, then you may as well quit right now. I need you to become completely comfortable with the idea of your talents being continually wasted on insignificant things like shampoo commercials and taglines for deodorant; it’s something I still struggle to come to terms with myself. And don’t get cocky. You have talent, there’s no doubt about it - you wouldn’t be where you are if you didn’t. And maybe you’re going to have tonnes of brilliant ideas that you can’t wait to throw on the table, but the truth is, the majority of them are going to be shot down before they even get off the ground, because you’re still a junior. I need to know that you’ll be able to handle that. Maybe things were different where you used to work, but you don’t work for them anymore. You work for me now.”
Chanyeol still looks as though he doesn't really know what to say, but he swallows thickly and nods.
“I… I know. And I can handle it,” he says, but his conviction is betrayed a little by the slight wavering in his voice.
Baekhyun looks at him for a long time, but he can't decide who Chanyeol’s really trying to convince.
“Fine,” he says, “but maybe start taking things a bit more seriously. You seem a little too preoccupied with being the ‘fun guy’ and getting everyone’s approval, but none of that stuff is going to work on me. You don’t actually need to try very hard to get along with me, Chanyeol. You just need to do your job.”
“Okay,” Chanyeol says quietly, “I understand.”
“Good,” Baekhyun nods, “and I’m sorry about Gwendolyn; whoever did that to her is a big old douche canoe. That’s all I have to say, so I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Chanyeol gives a polite bow in response and walks away without another word. Baekhyun waits for him to enter the building and then drives off, wondering who he was really delivering that pep talk to - Chanyeol or himself.
Maybe it was both.
÷
If someone had told Baekhyun only a few months ago that he would end up forging a friendship with the redheaded bane of his existence, then he would have dismissed the idea as being utterly preposterous.
If such a person had then told him that he would find himself willingly (well, half-willingly) accepting an invitation to Chanyeol’s place for dinner, then he would have told them they were insane.
And yet here he is, sitting on the old striped couch in the living room, trying not to tread on Chanyeol’s pet ferret as it darts in and out of the space between his feet. He sips his beer and looks on quietly while his co-worker juggles several pots and pans at once in his little kitchen.
“Are you sure you don’t need any help..?” Baekhyun asks - he doesn’t even really know how to cook, but offering seems like the polite thing to do.
“Don’t be silly,” Chanyeol calls out to him, “you’re the guest. I’ve got it covered.”
Baekhyun looks around while he’s waiting. Chanyeol’s apartment is tiny, but in a way that’s cozy rather than cramped. It’s casually messy and needs a bit of fixing, but it has character. The flaky paint on the walls and the faded curtains and the butt-grooves moulded into the couch cushions make the place feel warm and lived in, unlike Baekhyun’s apartment, which is minimal and clean and seems, well, sterile by comparison.
Chanyeol is a different person in the comfort of his own home - more relaxed and conversational - and he also turns out to be a surprisingly good cook. Everything comes out a little crispier than it probably should be, but the food is still delicious. Baekhyun is impressed.
“You know, you’ve never really told me much about yourself,” Chanyeol says over dinner, “all I really know about you is that you used to write jingles and that you have a secret thing for ABBA.”
Baekhyun glares at him, but he can’t hold it for very long.
“Fine,” he relents, “what do you want to know? I’ll tell you whatever you want, with the proviso that we keep my stint as a jingle writer off the table.”
Chanyeol shrugs and fiddles with his fork. “Tell me anything.”
“Okay,” Baekhyun sighs, “I’m 28 years old, my star sign is Taurus, my blood type is O, and yes, I admit it - I am a big fan of ABBA. Anything else?”
Chanyeol grows quiet for a moment. He leans over to pick Cheezel up off the floor, stroking the ferret as it makes itself comfortable in his lap.
“Don't you have a girlfriend?” he asks shyly, “or... a boyfriend..? Or any pets?”
“None of the above, at the moment,” Baekhyun answers truthfully, “it's just me, really.”
Chanyeol shrugs and resumes playing with Cheezel. “Same. I just have Cheezel here. Not that we have that kind of relationship or anything… I assure you we're strictly platonic.”
Baekhyun nearly chokes on his beer. “I’m glad to hear it. But it’s quite sweet, really. You’re like a little ginger family.”
“Well, I’m not a natural redhead, but yeah, I suppose we are..” Chanyeol says with a smile. “You’ll never guess what I got us for dessert, by the way.”
Baekhyun sees the mischief in Chanyeol’s expression and the penny drops instantly. “You didn’t.”
Chanyeol smiles knowingly and puts Cheezel on the floor to scurry elsewhere. He bounces over to the freezer and pulls out a box of Banana Bars, which he opens and throws onto the table.
Baekhyun looks at the box and sighs.
“Go on,” Chanyeol says encouragingly, “have one. Make peace with your past. You know you want to.”
Baekhyun reluctantly accepts one of the frozen treats and unwraps it.
“I will never understand why people even buy this shit. It tastes like… well, shit.”
“No way,” Chanyeol replies, frowning, “artificial banana is the best flavour of anything ever.”
“Don’t look at me,” Baekhyun whines, “I don’t really feel comfortable making eye contact with you while I have this in my mouth.”
“Well, I happen to like Banana Bars - I find them very a-peeling,” Chanyeol says, and he lasts all of three seconds before bursting into laughter at his own terrible joke. Baekhyun rolls his eyes and doesn’t even dignify it with a snort.
“You know… I was actually stoned when I wrote the Banana Bar jingle,” he pipes up, “there’s a fun fact for you..”
Chanyeol licks his popsicle stick clean and drops it onto the table. “Really? I never pegged you for a pothead.”
“Yeah,” Baekhyun admits, leaving his half-eaten Banana Bar to melt on his plate. “I was higher than a kite when I wrote most of my jingles. I try not to make a habit of it anymore, but I still have the occasional puff. Nobody’s perfect, I guess.”
Chanyeol shrugs. “Perfection is overrated. Have you ever heard that Salvador Dali quote ‘do not fear perfection, you will never reach it’ ? Well, that’s my favourite quote ever. Some people might think that's a bleak and limiting thing to say, but I think it's quite liberating and hopeful. The idea of being a work in progress for the rest of my life... I really love that.”
Baekhyun looks at Chanyeol for a moment, surprised by the depth of his words, but then he smiles. “Wasn’t he the same guy that said 'I don't do drugs - I am drugs’..?”
“Yeah, he did. I think that one relates more to you,” Chanyeol says, grinning widely. He looks quite lovely when he smiles. Something about it makes Baekhyun’s stomach turn somersaults.
He decides to blame it on the food instead.
÷
The next morning, Baekhyun sits at his desk, listlessly dunking a biscuit in his coffee. He can’t cope with all the confused, conflicted thoughts tumbling around inside his head like a washing machine on spin-cycle, and he’s in no mood to be here. He’s not prepared for the morning’s presentation at all, and right now, the thought of speaking in front of a group of people makes him want to dive under his desk.
He looks up as Chanyeol waltzes into the office, looking chipper as always.
“Shhh,” Baekhyun hisses before Chanyeol even has a chance to open his mouth. He presses a finger to his lips. “This requires perfect timing and concentration.”
Just as he’s saying this, the biscuit he’s holding breaks in half and dissolves into a sea of brown. He tries in vain to salvage it with his spoon.
“Ah, shit.. I over-dunked,” he mutters to no one in particular. “I fucking hate it when that happens. Now I’m going to have biscuit sludge at the bottom. I don’t like this, this is a bad omen..”
“I was just about to get a coffee myself,” Chanyeol pipes up, gesturing in the direction of the office kitchen, “do you want me to get you a fresh one..?”
“No, no...” Baekhyun mumbles, burying his head in his hands. “Just... Leave me for a moment. I need to mentally prepare myself for the unholy shit-canning that will befall me if I don’t pull a miracle out of my arse within the next fifteen minutes.”
Chanyeol shrugs. “Alrighty. Let me know if you change your mind.”
Baekhyun’s forehead is still glued to his desk when Chanyeol returns a little later. He feels a hand rest comfortingly on his shoulder.
“It’ll be okay, Baekhyun. You’ll do great.”
“I don’t know,” Baekhyun mumbles against the hard surface. “I’m not so sure about that this time..”
“Just go in there and do what you always do. You’ll be fine, I promise.”
Baekhyun sighs and lifts his head from the desk, realising that there’s a post-it note stuck to his forehead. He peels it off, scrunches it into a ball and flicks it away.
“I hope you’re right..” he says as he slowly gets up from his seat. “We’d better get going, then.”
The walk to the conference room is like being led to the gallows, and Baekhyun can feel the bullets of sweat exuding from every pore. The sound of Chanyeol’s footsteps close behind him provides little in the way of comfort, but it’s something, and he’s thankful for that at least.
He drags his feet through the door against their will and takes the seat next to Minseok, which also happens to be the closest one to the exit. Chanyeol sits on his other side.
The presentation begins as soon as everyone’s seated. Minseok calls up Dara and Baekhyun to present to the client. Dara takes them through the visual concept of the ad, presenting with aplomb as she always does, but when it’s Baekhyun’s turn to speak, he looks at the sea of expectant faces before him (it feels like a sea, but it’s probably only about ten people) and he clams up. He opens his mouth to speak, and nothing comes out. As far as worst nightmares go, it feels like such a cliché.
Minseok shoots him a worrying look that could mean ‘are you okay?’, ‘just fucking say something’ or ‘your arse is grass’ - or possibly a combination of all three.
The awkward silence is excruciating. He can hear confused whispers and the sound of Dara clearing her throat nervously next to him. At this point, Minseok looks like he’s about to blow his stack right off. Baekhyun closes his eyes, quietly willing himself to liquefy into a puddle of shame and soak into the navy blue conference-room carpet. Then he hears someone get up from their seat to stand next to him, and he opens his eyes again.
“If I may, ladies and gents, Mr. Byun actually originally asked me to give today's presentation in his stead.. so I'll take over from here.”
Having said this, Chanyeol gives Baekhyun a friendly wink as if to say ‘don't worry, I got this’.
Minseok frowns and looks to Baekhyun for confirmation. “Is that okay with you, Baekhyun? Dara..?
“Uh, yeah...” Baekhyun replies, swallowing nervously. “Yes, that's correct. He’s keen to improve his presentation skills, and I thought it would be a good opportunity for him to do so..”
“I’m fine with it,” Dara adds.
Baekhyun resumes his seat next to Minseok, and the relief of having narrowly escaped a potentially disastrous situation floods through him, but it doesn’t stop him feeling enormously disappointed in himself.
Baekhyun used to feel so at home in this room - more at home than he felt in his actual home. Standing in front of a bunch of suits, cracking out quick and snappy concepts, soaking up the respect and admiration of everyone present - that was his specialty. But having the respect and admiration of people he doesn’t really care about suddenly seems so empty and worthless; a little like all the awards won over the years for campaigns he was never particularly proud of.
He watches Chanyeol handle the rest of the presentation entirely on his own, and it’s like looking at a much taller version of himself - or what he used to be like, back when he was young and enthusiastic and actually felt like he was good at his job. He’s completely reeled in by the passion and conviction with which Chanyeol speaks, as though he’s talking about things that are actually important, and not merely pitching copy for a magazine ad.
He has to hand it to the kid - he’s good. Baekhyun feels his stomach doing that funny acrobatic thing again, just like it did when Chanyeol smiled at him last night. He is proud as punch.
And maybe just a little bit in love.
Baekhyun shakes his head. No, he’s not. He’s not in love at all. He simply hasn’t fully recovered from being in panic mode earlier… yes, that’s all it is. This odd sensation will surely pass.
But then, he hasn’t really been in love before; how would he even know what being in love feels like?
God, what if it is love?
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Baekhyun says to Chanyeol after the meeting is over, “but… thank you. I owe you one.”
Chanyeol shrugs and smiles. “It’s okay, we all have our off days. What are friends for?”
“I don’t think I’m having an off day,” Baekhyun sighs, sinking into his chair, “maybe more like an off year… I really need a holiday.”
“Why don’t you ask for some time off?” Chanyeol suggests, “I’m sure they’d give it to you; you’re always working like a dog.”
Baekhyun looks at Chanyeol for a long time, chewing his lip in silence. “You know what?” he says eventually, getting up off his seat, “you’re right. I think I just really need to get away...”
I need to get away from this place.
I need to get away from you.
÷
Quitting his job turns out to be much easier than Baekhyun thought it would be. If anything, it feels incredibly anti-climactic when he thinks about all those agonising hours he spent weighing up his options and losing sleep over his decision.
The only hard part is having to break it to Chanyeol.
“Please don’t mention this to him; I want to tell him myself, when the time is right,” he’d told Minseok upon turning in his resignation letter, and his boss had quietly agreed. But the time just never feels right. And then, before he knows it, he runs out of days.
Baekhyun had always imagined that his last day on the job would be a more memorable occasion, but it just feels like any other day. Everyone in the office seems to go about their business as they usually do, and Baekhyun is secretly glad; the last thing he wants is for anyone to make an unnecessary fuss over him. It serves as a sobering reminder that he is ultimately expendable; he’ll be replaced soon enough, and life will go on just as it did before.
As expected, Chanyeol is upset upon finally hearing the news.
“How could you leave me in the dark until the last minute?” he says sadly, watching Baekhyun pack his box of belongings into his car. “Aren’t we friends..?”
“Of course we are,” Baekhyun sighs, “but I didn't want you to try and stop me.”
“I wouldn't have stopped you, you dork. I knew your heart wasn’t in it anymore… I’m not stupid.”
Baekhyun stops what he’s doing and looks at Chanyeol, surprised. “You knew..?”
“Of course I knew. And if you had just trusted me enough to tell me, then I would have been right behind you all the way. I would have made pompoms with bits of potentially incriminating documents salvaged from the paper shredder, and cheered you on while you did your final victory lap of the office.”
“Well, that would have been a very grand exit,” Baekhyun says with a chuckle. “Should we go up and do it again..?”
“It certainly wasn't an exit fit for a legend,” Chanyeol says quietly, “not in my book..”
“That’s very sweet, Chanyeol, but I’m hardly a legend,” Baekhyun sighs, opening the driver’s door and collapsing into his seat. “I’m just someone with a talent for writing the kind of twaddle that ordinary folk tend to fall for. It’s not really something I’m proud of.”
“Hey. It’s a noble profession, I'll have you know,” Chanyeol says with a lopsided grin.
Baekhyun shrugs. “Someone's got to do it, I suppose.”
Chanyeol nods. “So… what are you going to do now?”
“You know what? I really don’t know,” Baekhyun replies honestly. “And I know it should scare the shit out of me, but I think I’m actually okay with that. However, I did finally book myself some last-minute plane tickets. About time I did something impulsive..”
“Where to?”
“Phuket. I leave in a couple of days.”
“Ah..” Chanyeol replies, his voice trailing off into silence.
“To be honest, Chanyeol, I kind of hated my job before I met you,” Baekhyun admits. “Although I found you a little… unusual at first, I think you were probably the only really good thing about working here. And I’m proud of you; I really am.”
He searches Chanyeol's face for a reaction, but it's unreadable.
“Well, I just thought you should know that. I’m sure you want to go home, so I won’t keep you any longer..”
Baekhyun pulls the door shut and starts the car. Just as he does this, Chanyeol knocks on the window, gesturing for him to open it.
“Baekhyun, wait a minute.”
Baekhyun sticks his head out, looking up at Chanyeol curiously. “Yeah?”
Chanyeol presses his lips into a thin line and turns red. “I like you.”
“Well, likewise, I guess…” Baekhyun says hesitantly.
“No,” Chanyeol shakes his head, “I really like you - the real you; the one that came to my place and willingly ate my shitty cooking and laughed at my dumb jokes. I like the Baekhyun beneath that tough exterior. Once you peel that bitter skin away, on the inside you're... Well, you're sweet. And kinda mushy. And lovely-”
“Okay,” Baekhyun interrupts him, laughing nervously, “the banana comparisons are making me a little uncomfortable..”
Chanyeol smiles. He clearly can’t help himself. “And very a-peeling.”
Baekhyun snorts and rolls his eyes. “That old chestnut.”
Chanyeol is still smiling, but it quickly fades away, and he looks at Baekhyun expectantly as though waiting for him to say something back. Eventually his face falls a little and Baekhyun knows he’s missed his chance, so he swallows the unsaid words and lets them form a hard lump of regret in his throat.
“Well, provided I don't get taken out by a rogue coconut, I guess I'll see you around.”
“When you’re back, we should go get lunch together sometime - if you want to, of course…” Chanyeol offers, and he looks so hopeful that it’s actually heartbreaking.
Baekhyun nods. “Maybe. I’ll… I’ll let you know.”
“Have fun. And take care of yourself. Don't stand under any palm trees.”
“Don’t worry, I won't,” Baekhyun reassures him, smiling.
He gives Chanyeol a final wave and begins to reverse out of his parking space - the same reserved parking space he’s been using for the past several years - and then it hits him. It seems so trivial, but he will never park in that space again. He has no reason or obligation to show up at this place anymore. This is it. It’s all over. He is overwhelmed with relief - and also strangely devastated.
Although he can feel Chanyeol watching him as he drives away, Baekhyun can’t bring himself to look back. The lump in his throat is still there.
÷
Phuket is nice. It should be amazing, really, but that’s all it is - just nice.
Baekhyun knows he should be enjoying this trip more than he actually is - he certainly paid enough for it. He has a beautiful private cabin right on the beach, and a masseuse that comes to knead the knots out of his back and shoulders every morning. The resort he’s staying at has a poolside bar that he can swim right up to and order whatever concoction takes his fancy. The food is great. The people are friendly and hospitable.
This is paradise, or at least, everything he’d imagined paradise to be. So why does he feel so empty?
Maybe because he has no one to share it with.
He’d thought - or at least hoped - that he'd find his bearings again after having a bit of time to relax. Instead Baekhyun arrives back home feeling no different - a little less tense, perhaps, but his heart and mind are both in the exact same mixed-up place they were in before he left.
Upon entering his apartment for the first time in two weeks, he drops his bags on the floor and rests his hands on the granite countertop in the kitchen. It’s cold and hard and reminds him of a mortuary slab.
He wanders into the living room, where the smooth, leather-covered couch has no butt-grooves; he doesn’t remember the last time he curled up there to lose himself in a book, or enjoy a film, or cackle himself silly at a stupid variety show. There are no mouth-watering cooking smells permeating the air; no tiny tumbleweeds of ferret fur rolling across vast plains of well-worn beige carpet. The tiled floors are white and spotless, and show no signs of either coming or going.
The walls are a perfect pale grey, and they hold no framed memories. They have not seen love or laughter, nor have they borne witness to a life well lived.
Baekhyun drags himself to the bathroom and peers at his face in the mirror. He looks so old and worn out that he almost doesn’t recognise his own reflection. He forces a smile to see if it will help, but it doesn’t.
Baekhyun doesn’t know the person staring back at him at all. The real Baekhyun is somewhere else.
He needs to find him.
÷
Baekhyun can’t quite explain how he ended up sitting outside Chanyeol’s apartment building on a Wednesday night, trying to work up the courage to dial the other’s number.
Actually, he can - first he hired a tandem bicycle on a whim, and then he rode it there, alone - but it’s the thought process behind it that has him baffled. He’s not a particularly spontaneous person. Some would dismiss this kind of thing as being crazy, and perhaps a little stalkerish… but Baekhyun calls it being in love, and wanting to finally do something about it - and not having any better ideas.
He pulls his phone from his pocket and searches through his contacts for Chanyeol’s number. He then stares at the number for a long time, for no apparent reason.
Just dial the fucking number, you little bitch.
Shut up.
No you shut up.
After arguing with himself for several minutes, Baekhyun exhales shakily and presses the dial button. His heart races when a familiar deep voice answers the phone.
“Baekhyun, is that you..?”
“Yeah, it’s me. What are you doing right now?”
“A whole lot of nothing. Why..?”
“I was wondering if you’d like to go for an unplanned evening ride around the neighbourhood.”
Chanyeol pauses for a moment. “In what? Your car?”
“No,” Baekhyun replies, “just come outside. You’ll see what I mean soon enough.”
“Okay. I’ll be right down.”
Chanyeol emerges from the building a few minutes later, casually dressed in jeans and a hoodie, but still looking even more handsome than Baekhyun remembers him being. Absence must make the eyes grow fonder, as well as the heart.
Chanyeol’s eyes widen when he sees the bike. “Wow. Did you buy that..?”
“Sadly, no…” Baekhyun replies, “I hired it. Do you like it?
“It’s amazing… I’ve always wanted to ride a tandem; I’ve just never really had anyone to ride with,” Chanyeol smiles, “until now, anyway. So… how have you been..?”
Baekhyun nods. “I’ve been okay. We can talk more while we’re riding. Do you want to take the front? You probably know your way around here better than I do..”
“Sure.”
It takes Baekhyun a while to get used to riding with Chanyeol - he pedals too quickly, for one thing, and Baekhyun finds it hard to keep up - but it’s a clear, perfect evening, and Chanyeol smells really good, and being this close to the object of his affections after so long feels really nice - even if he’s only staring at his back.
“So what have you been doing with yourself, Baek? People at work are always telling me how much they miss you, you know.”
“You’re probably just saying that,” Baekhyun laughs, “but anyway, I’m freelancing now, which is great. I’m getting a lot of interesting, varied work - maybe even too much work..”
“That’s great,” Chanyeol says quietly. “I really miss working for you, but I’m happy that you’re happy.”
“You know, when I’m a little more established, maybe we could start a business,” Baekhyun suggests, “just you and I, together.”
“You mean you want me to work for you again?”
“Well, I suppose, yes,” Baekhyun replies, “but I don’t want you to work for me, Chanyeol. I’d like you to work with me. I think we work well together, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Chanyeol laughs, “we do.”
They continue riding together in silence for a while. The streets of Chanyeol’s neighbourhood are quiet, with no one out and about apart from the occasional passing car and a few people walking their dogs.
Perfect, Baekhyun thinks. Now I can make a complete idiot out of myself with no witnesses.
“You know, the company I rented this bike from mainly hires out tandems,” he says eventually. “Do you know what their slogan was? ‘Two asses are better than one.’ I thought that was great. It’s really fitting, in a way, given what I’m about to say…”
Chanyeol continues pedaling in silence, and Baekhyun almost loses his nerve, but he reminds himself that he didn’t come this far just to chicken out now.
“I really like you too. That was what I should have said on the day I left. But the words kind of wouldn’t come out at the time, so I’m saying them now instead. And I’m scared, because it’s always been just me. I’m used to that. I’m standoffish and self-centred, and people often accuse me of being a grouch, and maybe I can’t even make you happy like you deserve… but I really want to try. I hope I’m not too late in saying that.”
“Well, better late than never, Baek,” Chanyeol replies softly, and although Baekhyun can’t see the other’s face, he can tell from his voice that he’s probably smiling.
“I know. To be honest, I didn’t really enjoy my holiday at all …” he admits, feeling his face heating up, and it’s not from the physical exertion of pedalling. He’s thankful that Chanyeol is seated in front of him and can’t see the emotion laid bare in his expression; all those feelings that he’s so used to hiding. But he can’t keep them from cracking the surface of his voice.
“For the whole time I was away, all I could think about was you, Chanyeol,” he says quietly. “Just you.”
Chanyeol is silent again for a while. “Let’s take a break over here,” he says eventually.
“What, now..?”
“Yes,” Chanyeol says softly, and with his heart pounding in his throat, Baekhyun lets him steer them over to the side of the road.
As soon as they’ve stopped, Chanyeol hops off the front seat and turns around to look at Baekhyun, cradling his face in large, gentle hands, and then he kisses him. Although surprised at first, Baekhyun soon melts into the embrace with little thought for his inhibitions or what any onlookers might be thinking. He throws his arms around Chanyeol’s neck and stops worrying about the fact that his own lips are dry and chapped and haven’t touched anyone else’s in so long - none of that matters anymore, because Chanyeol’s lips are soft, and his breath tastes sweet, and he might be incredibly weird, but he is also incredibly beautiful.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long,” Chanyeol whispers, gently touching Baekhyun’s face with his fingers, and with a soft chuckle, he adds, “oddly enough, I first realised I felt that way when I saw the look on your face after you fell for my little whoopee cushion prank..”
Before Baekhyun can say anything more, Chanyeol steals any remaining words right out of his mouth with more kisses. There are no words that could really do justice to a moment like this anyway, Baekhyun thinks, but then again, words aren’t always necessary.
“Let me take you out to dinner,” he whispers when they eventually pause for breath. “On Saturday night, if you’re free.”
Chanyeol considers the invitation for a moment and cracks a mischievous grin. “I’ll say yes if you come over to my place for a Banana Bar afterwards.”
“Alright,” Baekhyun sighs, “but only if you eat mine for me.”
Chanyeol laughs and kisses him once more. “Deal.”
÷
A few days later, Baekhyun is back waiting out the front of Chanyeol's building again - but in his car, this time.
Chanyeol hurries out of the front door soon afterwards, all decked out in a black suit and red satin bowtie. He gets in the car and kisses Baekhyun hello. He looks great.
Baekhyun is feeling generous today, so he mentally awards Chanyeol a score of 200 Sexy Points out of 10.
"Oh my. You scrub up well, don't you?"
"Mmm. So do you," Chanyeol purrs, kissing Baekhyun again. "You look fantastic. Are you on tonight's menu, by any chance..?"
"Alright, settle down," Baekhyun laughs, pushing him off. "We'll never get there if we keep this up.."
He'd be lying if he said he didn't love it, though.
The restaurant he takes Chanyeol to is the epitome of fancy. Chanyeol whistles in admiration when they walk in, taking in the opulent surroundings.
"Wow. This place is nice."
"I know," Baekhyun replies as a waiter leads them to a table by the window, "I wanted to take you somewhere special. You know - to make our first date really memorable."
"Oh, I'm sure it will be memorable," Chanyeol says, grinning. He moves quickly to pull out Baekhyun's chair for him. "Please. Allow me."
"Why, thank you, sir," Baekhyun replies courteously, and delicately lowers his behind onto the plush velvet cushion.
Then a sound much like a mini orchestra of farts rips through the quiet atmosphere, and Baekhyun freezes in his seat.
Couples at neighbouring tables shoot him distasteful looks. Chanyeol sits in the seat opposite him and clasps his hands together on the starched white tablecloth, waiting for Baekhyun to react with an expectant, infuriating smile.
Baekhyun covers his face with one hand to hide his embarrassment and reaches beneath the seat of his pants. He extracts a flattened whoopee cushion and dumps it in front of Chanyeol.
"Do I even need to say anything..?" he says, lips pursed tightly together.
"Aww, don't look at me like that," Chanyeol laughs, "I only wanted tonight to be really memorable too, you know. Think of it this way - now you'll always remember the particulars of our first date in vivid, excruciating detail."
Baekhyun glares daggers at the demon sitting opposite him, nostrils flaring. Chanyeol reaches across the table to hold both of his hands, squeezing them gently, and he flashes Baekhyun a sweet, sincere smile.
Baekhyun can't help himself - he can't stay mad at a face like that.
Dammit. He's good. He's really good.
Baekhyun smiles and squeezes Chanyeol's hands in return.
I am gonna get him back so bad.
It's only a matter of time.
÷
My my, I tried to hold you back, but you were stronger
Oh yeah, and now it seems my only chance is giving up the fight
And how could I ever refuse?
I feel like I win when I lose
A/N:
I know very little about keeping to a prompt, working in advertising, or life in general. Oh well - enjoy!
Addition with edit: It has been brought to my attention that the way I worded the sombrero scene could be considered offensive, so I have reworded it. Hopefully no further offense will be caused to any future readers of this fic, and I apologise to those who were offended before the revision was made. Enjoy!
Mod note: This fic has been edited with revisions from the author the day of. Mods cannot alter anyone's creative work nor modify their opinions. If anyone comes across any issues throughout the exchange, please notify us through our many methods of getting in contact. We really appreciate it. Thanks!
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