Title: Untitled
Pairing: BaekYeol (Baekhyun/Chanyeol)
Rating: PG currently
Genre: Idk
Length: 1230 as of now
Summary/Warnings: None for the moment
Chanyeol felt stifled, as if being suffocated by the tense atmosphere. The air-conditioning was on full blast, and yet he felt uncomfortably warm. He brushed past yet another lady clad in an overly expensive dress, his own black suit a sharp contrast to the gaudy pink. He felt horribly out of place, and he probably did not either, as glances tinged with something akin to disdain for the inferior, those of lower social class, landed on him, not for the first time that night, and definitely not the last. He did not belong here, that much he knew.
“You must be Park Chanyeol?” A voice called out behind him.
“A-ah, yes, I’m Park Chanyeol, and you are?” Chanyeol discreetly eyed the man who spoke, and immediately recognized him. He was Jung Changwon, the owner of a construction company that was responsible for some of the smaller malls in the country. He had enough wealth to make him significant, but definitely not on top of the food chain. That much, Chanyeol knew, along with other interesting information, such as the man’s involvement in bribing the government to win the contract for the next mega-mall right in the heart of the city, and that he had a mistress unbeknownst to his wife and two sons. It had not taken long to memorise the guest list after all, but it would have been untasteful to reveal as much.
“I’m Jung Changwon. Pleased to meet you.”
Pleasantries.
“Likewise, Mr Jung.”
Too superficial.
“So, I’ve heard that you’ve recently graduated from Harvard in less than three years, top of your class even! That’s incredible!”
Too artificial.
“And so hardworking too, becoming chief political analyst in just two years!”
Too fake.
“Thank you for your compliments, Mr Jung, it’s nothing much.”
Chanyeol hated it. He nodded occasionally as Jung Changwon spoke as if he knew him. He could see through the facade of friendliness, and knew that what hid beneath it was a shrewd, corrupted man who wanted Chanyeol on his side in the political rush for affluence. Once Jung Changwon deemed him to be won over, he patted Chanyeol on the shoulder and stalked away to search for another prey.
As the man latched onto another unsuspecting victim, this time a promising lawyer who had just graduated recently, Chanyeol resisted the urge to shiver in disgust. The masks everyone around him had on was sickening. He raised his hand to ruffle his usually loose hair, only to be met with the short, neat ponytail at the back of his head, and snapped his hand down immediately. Chanyeol frowned.
“Stop making faces. It’s ugly.”
Chanyeol looked up to see Jongdae, his best friend, standing next to him and holding out a glass of wine.
“Champagne?”
Jongdae nodded, his lips curving up into a playful smirk.
“I’m not taking you to the hospital this time.”
“I can handle my alcohol,” Chanyeol retorted. He thought back to the first time he had alcohol - it had been over four years ago, when they had celebrated their first year overseas together. They were immature college students back then. Jongdae had brought back several bottles of cheap wine from the 7-Eleven around the corner, and joked that they should have a drinking contest. Chanyeol, always the competitive one, took it literally and found himself lying in a hospital bed when he woke up.
“I’d like to see you try.” Of course, Jongdae would never let him forget about that incident.
“We’re not here for the alcohol.” Chanyeol crossed his arms, holding the wine glass elegantly with three fingers. He couldn’t deny that the mention of free alcohol was all that was needed for Joonmyeon to convince him to go the gala. He shook his head, then took a sip of the champagne.
Jongdae shrugged, one eyebrow raised.
Jung Changwon and the numerous other politicians like him were here to make connections with the filthy rich, and Chanyeol and Jongdae were here to monitor those connections. Although Joonmyeon had declared Chanyeol and Jongdae partners, the worry in his eyes had painfully hinted Jongdae to keep Chanyeol from doing anything stupid, and Chanyeol had wondered why Joonmyeon didn’t just go himself.
“Look over there.” Jongdae pointed across Chanyeol’s shoulder to a tall man in the distance, uninterested in the women surrounding him and choosing to fiddle with his cufflinks instead, looking the picture of easy arrogance. Chanyeol narrowed his eyes, and his brain clicked. The tall man with auburn-colored hair was known as Kai, a man whose name easily roused fear and terror in the underground. Chanyeol’s fingers grazed over the sleek nickel plating of the loaded M1911 safely tucked under the folds of his jacket. Kai was young and powerful, head of a growing faction that with no doubt, would be able to rival Exo after tonight. Although Exo had been in power for decades, single instruction from Kai could wreck the peace that had been in place for as long as Chanyeol could remember.
“Shit.” Chanyeol muttered under his breath as his eyes widened slightly.
Chanyeol’s eyes remained trained on the bronze-skinned man who was constantly approached by many people. He watched as Kai expressed nothing but boredom, and ignored everyone else except the doe-eyed man he was with. He didn’t know who this doe-eyed man was, but it didn’t matter; he was only concerned with Kai. He furrowed his brows as he continued observing the pair, until someone entered his line of vision.
Chanyeol blinked, once, twice as a dark haired male sauntered, in his direction. The male was on the petite side, but the air of confidence and self-awareness made him attention grabbing.
“Shit.” Chanyeol whispered again.
The male moved with grace that Chanyeol would usually admire, unlike Chanyeol’s usual clumsy and often fumbling behaviour, but right now, that fluidity, coupled with the subtle but definitely noticeable sensual sway of the male’s hips, was doing things to Chanyeol’s rationality. He felt his cheeks warm as his mind went overdrive and nearly leapt into unchartered territory. Chanyeol gave a subtle shake of his head. The attractive male would definitely have been a target that Chanyeol would have approached in a different time and a different place. What a shame, he thought.
“Stop drooling.” For the second time that night, Jongdae broke him out from his reverie. Chanyeol raised a hand to wipe away his drool instinctively, but found none present.
“That was not funny.” Chanyeol glared.
“You should have seen your face,” Jongdae commented, “But that guy does have a nice ass,” he said as his eyes perused over the same lithe figure Chanyeol had his eyes attached to seconds ago. Chanyeol resisted the urge to hit his friend, because he was a mature adult, damnit.
“Hey." A dulcet voice with the barest tinge of huskiness purred.
Chanyeol blinked, once, twice, before he regained enough composure to address the owner of the voice.
Fuck, Chanyeol cursed mentally, because the object of his interest had suddenly appeared before him. Up close, the dark-haired male had kohl rimmed eyes that that made him look unexpectedly alluring. Usually, Chanyeol was more than wary of eyeliner, but now, the expertly smudged dark outlines had given the male’s eyes a smoky effect. That, Chanyeol could definitely appreciate.
“Are you okay?” The stranger inquired. The corner of his eyes curved upwards in a worrisome glance.