Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Jongdae’s tiptoeing around Baekhyun. Well, everyone at his work is. Has been since Chanyeol rejected him at last month’s publication dinner at La Vigilia. But he lives with Jongdae and his delicate manner is really obvious and out of place. Especially when Minseok’s involved.

Since Jongdae introduced Minseok in April, he’s become a staple in Baekhyun’s daily life. He comes over for dinner more often than not, spends the night on his days off, and Baekhyun’s tagged along on more than a few of their dates (to Jongdae’s dismay and Minseok’s excitement). However, Minseok hasn’t been around in a while.

At first, Baekhyun thought the couple was on the outs. Except Jongdae still answers his texts with the same goopy expression on his face and disappears at night to sleep at Minseok’s apartment.

It’s like Jongdae’s trying to hide his boyfriend from Baekhyun – which is weird.

Now, Baekhyun’s insulted and (mildly) worried. Does Minseok not like him as much as Baekhyun thought he did? He seems so genuine when he laughs at Baekhyun’s jokes. Maybe Jongdae really does hate when Baekhyun third wheels – Baekhyun just thought he was being whiny as usual. Either way, whatever the reason, it’s freaking Baekhyun out. He and Jongdae have never been good at keeping secrets from each other. It’s unnatural.

It only takes a few days of Jongdae sneaking around with Minseok before Baekhyun’s sick of it. It’s time for him to do what he’s always done when Jongdae’s trying to keep something from him.

He confronts him.

“What’s going on with you?” Baekhyun asks.

Jongdae snorts into his drink. Liquid dribbles down from his nose and off his chin. He splutters, pulling the ugly afghan – Baekhyun made it when he was trying to learn how to crochet. Needless to say, he gave up – off his lap and wipes his face.

“Dude,” Jongdae says between coughs. “You’re lucky this is just water. Why the hell are you sneaking up on me?”

“You’ve been acting weird,” Baekhyun says. He leans forward over the back of the couch to get right next to Jongdae’s face. It’s his known intimidation technique and by the way, Jongdae’s not looking at him and instead somewhere to the left, Baekhyun knows it’s working.

“Says you,” Jongdae replies. “I think I’ve been perfectly normal, thank you.”

“So, why hasn’t Minseok been around, then?”

“He’s been busy.”

The reply is so quick it’s almost rehearsed. Baekhyun wants to laugh because he’d bet his position at For You that it is. Plus, the image of Minseok helping Jongdae practice his excuses is adorable in a traitorous-best-friend type of way. But he doesn’t laugh. He bites his lip and slides around the couch to sit against the arm, leaning back and crossing his arms in the most casual but suspicious way he can. Jongdae’s eyes flick down to Baekhyun’s then back over to the far wall.

“Uh-huh,” Baekhyun says. “But you’ve still had time to go to his house and have dates?”

“I’ve been running errands.” The answer isn’t as quick this time. He’s slipping.

“Dae, I live with you,” Baekhyun says, sounding each word out like he’s talking to a problem child. It’s patronizing and Jongdae hates that. “Wouldn’t I have noticed the stuff from your errands?”

“I…had appointments.”

Baekhyun raises an eyebrow. Jongdae must see in his peripheral because he starts tugging at the afghan’s stray strings—of which there are many in pinks, oranges, and reds. Baekhyun was trying and failing at a sunset color scheme—and purses his lips.

“What kind?” he asks.

Jongdae better answer carefully. They’ve lived together for ten years, since that fateful day when they were assigned as roommates their freshman year of college. Jongdae’s changed a lot since they were eighteen, but one thing that remains consistent is his hatred for medical appointments of any kind. His mood for the day will change depending on if he has a teeth cleaning, a health check-up, acupuncture, etc.

“Dentist,” Jongdae says but the moment it’s out of his mouth he winces. Both of Baekhyun’s eyebrows are up now.

“Wow,” Baekhyun says, feigning surprise. Jongdae groans and slides down the couch, covering his face with the afghan. “I’m so proud of you for finally being able to go to the dentist without me.”

“Minseok took me?” Jongdae says voice muffled.

“Nice try.” It’s not a nice try. It’s a very poor try. “Now, tell me what’s going on. Are you and Minseok mad at me, or something? I promise I’ll stop tagging along on dates uninvited.”

“What?” Jongdae asks too loudly, too sharply that it’s practically a yelp. He sounds genuinely surprised and pulls the blanket down to gape at Baekhyun.

“Well, you’re both avoiding me.” Baekhyun tries to sound firm, but it falls flat.

“That’s what you thought was going on? Baek, no,” Jongdae says. “That’s not what… I didn’t mean to… ugh. After last month’s celebration dinner, you’ve been down.” Baekhyun opens his mouth to argue, but Jongdae tells him to zip it. “Whatever happened with Chanyeol—I still don’t believe he rejected you—has made you all wistful sighs and longing glances whenever you see a couple being couple-y. Minseok and I, we didn’t want to bum you out even more by forcing you to watch our relationship.”

“Oh,” Baekhyun says. Now he feels silly. “So, this has nothing to do with me third-wheeling?”

“Nope, but it has everything to do with your lack-of-relationship depression,” Jongdae says.

 Baekhyun doesn’t know how to explain himself. Initially, he was in charge of the conversation. He could control how vulnerable it became because he was interrogating Jongdae. Oh, how it’s flipped onto its head. He swallows, mouth suddenly dry, but no words come out.

Jongdae leans forward and grabs Baekhyun’s hand. “Let’s start with what really happened at the bar last month,” he says. He’s always been better than Baekhyun at talking—like Baekhyun knows how to talk, in fact, many people will say he doesn’t know how to shut up, but when it comes to being honest about emotions, he’s definitely lacking. Jongdae’s always had to guide Baekhyun through his feelings, and usually, it goes like this. Jongdae asks what really happened and Baekhyun has to tell him word for word. He says it’s so Baekhyun’s emotions don’t cloud the situation or something.

Baekhyun tells Jongdae everything from checking out the bartender’s ass (Suho? Sejun? Sehun?) to Chanyeol showing up and talking with him to the confusing end of their conversation. It all rushes out in one breath and he slumps against Jongdae’s shoulder afterward. Jongdae threads his arm around Baekhyun’s lower back naturally. Baekhyun prepares himself for bad news, for confirmation that Chanyeol totally rejected him. He knows it’s coming.

“I think he was trying to ask you out,” Jongdae says.

“What?” Baekhyun wheezes. He wasn’t expecting that. A voice in his head reminds him that he’s not psychic. As much as he’d love to be, sadly he doesn’t have any water in his birth chart. Unlike Jongdae, the bastard.

“Well, think about it. He started saying ‘we should’ then cut himself off and asked if you’d be coming back next month.”

“So?”

Jongdae groans in frustration. “You’re such a dumbass.”

“Hey,” Baekhyun says too loudly, Jongdae flinches. “You’re supposed to be playing the loving and supportive best friend here. Stick to the script or I’ll fire you.”

“Like you’d be able to find someone who’ll put up with you as much as I do,” Jongdae says with a snort. “Kyungsoo’s known you way longer than I have, but you’re not living with him, are you?”

“That’s because he’s terrifying,” Baekhyun deadpans. Jongdae pinches his side. “Ow! Jeez, okay, fine. You’re the bestest best friend I could’ve asked for and I don’t deserve you. Now, will you please explain how you could possibly think Chanyeol was trying to ask me out?”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Jongdae says. He puts up a finger. “First, the natural progression of a sentence starting with ‘we should’ is obviously to do something of some kind.” He puts up another finger. “Second, I have a first-hand account that he was giving you heart-eyes throughout your entire conversation.”

Baekhyun splutters.

“What does that even mean?” he asks.

“Means I saw how he looked at you with sappy ol’ eyes like he was in wuv,” Jongdae says, batting his eyelashes and pursing his lips.

“Cut it out,” Baekhyun says. He shoves his hand to Jongdae’s face. Jongdae smacks it away, but it gets him to stop making weird faces.

“I’m being serious,” he says, a hand to his heart. “Okay, he might’ve not looked like he was in love, but he did look like he was really enjoying your company.”

Hope flutters in Baekhyun’s heart. He’s never been in a relationship before. The closest he’s come has been the handful of dates he’s been on that ended up staying the night. Even those were nerve-wracking and that’s nothing compared to the possibility his soulmate might like him back. The whole soulmate thing was more convincing back in college when he hadn’t stepped into the real world yet, but he’s never stopped believing. Meeting Chanyeol again was a reminder of the possibilities, of the feelings.

Pressed up Jongdae, his best friend a solid and reassuring warmth against his side, Baekhyun thinks that maybe, just maybe, it’s worth a shot.

“If this all goes wrong,” Baekhyun says. He feels Jongdae take in an excited breath next to him. “I’m stealing all of your underwear and setting them on fire.”

“That’s totally okay with me,” Jongdae says, squeezing Baekhyun into him. “I’ll borrow Minseok’s.”

“If it goes really wrong, I’m stealing his and setting those on fire too.”

There’s no reason for Baekhyun to go to a place as fancy and expensive as La Vigilia outside of work celebrations. No reason whatsoever. But here he is. Alone on a Friday evening, in a cream-colored suit that matches his freshly dyed hair, and no friends or coworkers insight.

“What am I doing?” Baekhyun asks himself.

An older woman in a, hopefully ethically sourced, fur coat glances oddly at him over her shoulder as she passes. Her pace picks up as Baekhyun makes a fish face at her. He snorts as she stumbles in her purple pumps on her rush to get inside.

“I’ll just go in for a drink,” Baekhyun says, steeling himself. 

This all seemed like a much better idea when he was curled up on the couch with Jongdae the other day. But now that it’s the weekend and he’s here, at La Vigilia, where Chanyeol works, Baekhyun’s hit with the big fat brick of doubt. Why didn’t he ask someone to come with him? At least they’d stop him from turning around and walking away like the chicken he is.

“Baek?” Minseok calls from the front door as Baekhyun’s about to spin on his heel and head back to the bus stop.

Yes, he rode the bus to a five-star hotel. He figured it was best to save the money he might’ve spent on an uber for the ridiculous price of the restaurant and bar. He doesn’t have Taemin’s company card to pay for his impulses, after all.

“Oh, hey, Minseokie,” Baekhyun says, forcing a smile over his features. He’s really, really good at hiding things behind a fake smile. Mostly everyone is convinced right away, and Minseok’s no exception.

“Come to visit me at work?” Minseok asks teasingly. They both know that’s not why Baekhyun’s there.

“Of course,” Baekhyun answers. “Who else would I get this dressed up for? Jongdae better be careful or I’ll steal you from under his nose.”

Minseok laughs and punches him in the shoulder. It hurts since Minseok’s one of the buffest midgets Baekhyun knows but Baekhyun laughs with him. Minseok turns to the guard to the left of the front doors and nods at him.

“I’m going on break, Seojoon,” Minseok says. He taps his earpiece. “Call if you need me.”

Then, he laces his arm with Baekhyun’s and drags him inside the looming La Vigilia. Baekhyun’s smile stutters as the air-conditioning hits his face, but then it’s back on. It’s hard to fake a smile around Minseok without it becoming real. Especially when Minseok drags him through the lobby to a loveseat beside the grand piano, cracking jokes the whole way.

“So, why are you really here?” Minseok asks, settling back into the couch cushions. He crosses his legs underneath him and it’s almost improper in such a nice hotel, but Minseok looks like he belongs. The maroon jacket of his security uniform matches the throws and pillows placed artfully on the seats, and the embroidered ‘V’ on his chest pocket is the same warm gold as the floral designs on the couches. His dark hair is soft and not styled, letting his bangs fall over his eyebrows.

Baekhyun lets his eyes wander around the lobby. He keeps his tone light as he says, “Oh, y’know, I missed the beauty of the hotel. A monthly visit isn’t enough for me anymore.”

“Uh-huh,” Minseok says. “I believe it.”

“You do?” Baekhyun asks. He catches Minseok’s eyes and instantly regrets it. His brows are arched and his lips are spread in a mischievous grin. One side of his lip lifts higher than the other and it’s adorable.

“Yep. That’s why I brought you here. This is the best view in the whole hotel.”

That doesn’t make sense to Baekhyun. He twists in his seat, away from the piano, but he can’t see much. They’re sitting a few couches away from the column fireplace in the middle of the lobby which blocks most of the room and the stairwell from sight. Baekhyun knows the veranda and the front door have better views.

“Are you sure?” he asks. Minseok does know the hotel better after all, but this just doesn’t seem right.

“Positive.”

Baekhyun shrugs. “If you say so.”

They talk a bit longer, exchanging stories and memories. Baekhyun stops in the middle of a funny story about the time Jongdae lost a bet against Kyungsoo and had to get his legs waxed when he realizes he has to raise his voice to be heard. There are more patrons gathered around the sitting area than there was earlier. The couches and chairs are filled, and people have begun to take seats on the lip of the fireplace.

“What’s going on?” Baekhyun asks. Minseok smiles that smile again.

“The view,” he says and turns to face the piano.

Baekhyun turns too, just in time to see Chanyeol take a seat on the stool. Baekhyun’s breath catches. He’s in a full black suit and tie with the jacket open over his white button-down. His shiny wingtips settle over the piano’s pedals as he presses a few soft opening notes, and Baekhyun notices that his socks are hot pink. The crowd’s chatter dies down almost instantly like they were all waiting for him. Which they probably were, Baekhyun thinks. Minseok nudges Baekhyun with an elbow and when Baekhyun glances at him, only for a second because his eyes are drawn to Chanyeol like magnets, he winks.

Cascading notes ring through the lobby as Chanyeol plays through the “Waltz of the Flowers” and as soon as the last note for that dies he picks up into another fast-paced but haunting melody, one that Baekhyun doesn’t recognize. Chanyeol plays the piano as easily and naturally as he breathes. Baekhyun didn’t know he could play, not that he knows much about Chanyeol, but now that he sees it, he can’t believe he missed it. Chanyeol’s fingers are long and callused. Perfect for a musician.

Chanyeol drags his fingers across the keys, barely touching them with a sweet caress before he presses down. There’s something sensual about watching someone play an instrument. Everyone handles their instruments differently, bears their souls in different octaves, weaves different emotions through their music.

A chill runs up Baekhyun’s spine as his eyes flick between Chanyeol's hands and face. Chanyeol keeps his eyes closed, playing everything from memory, with a soft smile on his lips. Most of the pieces are from classic plays and composers, but every once in a while, Baekhyun notices Chanyeol slip in a song that sounds incredibly similar to ones he’s heard during his late-night anime binges. No one else seems to notice, but Baekhyun does. He feels like he’s been let in on an inside joke and that’s a great feeling.

The first set of songs ends too quickly. It was probably around fifteen minutes, but to Baekhyun it felt like only a few heartbeats.

Minseok’s hand rests softly on Baekhyun’s shoulder, probably so he wouldn’t startle him, but Baekhyun jumps anyways. Minseok’s smiling in a friendly, sweet way. Baekhyun’s almost ready to forgive him for dragging him straight to Chanyeol, almost. It doesn’t matter that that’s why Baekhyun came to La Vigilia tonight, Minseok still betrayed him. Kind of. In a way. It doesn’t matter.

“I told you this was the best view,” Minseok says.

Baekhyun’s throat is dry as he looks back at Chanyeol, who’s drinking water and laughing with a few guests, then back to Minseok. “Uhm.”

“Don’t worry.” Minseok’s smile softens. “You’re not that obvious. I think I’m just observant.”

Baekhyun laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “You and Jongdae make quite the pair. You’re both going to be the death of me,” he says as nonchalantly as he can.

 “Well, I’ll try to stop us from killing you before you can ask Chanyeol out,” Minseok says, none too quietly. Baekhyun shushes him, looking over his shoulder. No one heard him though, the hum of other people is loud enough where you can only hear the person you’re talking to, but not loud enough you have to yell. Chanyeol still hasn’t noticed them. Not that Baekhyun expects him to.

“Oh, please,” Minseok says. “Don’t start acting shy now. I’ve seen you naked.”

“This is different,” Baekhyun hisses. Minseok rolls his eyes and stands up. Baekhyun clutches his sleeve. “Where are you going?”

“I have to get back to work at some point,” Minseok says. Baekhyun releases his grip and slumps back against the couch.

“Oh.”

“See you later, Baek.” Minseok leans down to knock their heads together gently as a cat would do to her kitten. “Don’t run away just yet.”

“I’ll try,” Baekhyun says. “But I’m not great at resisting temptation.”

Minseok rolls his eyes and leaves, but instead of going straight to the front doors, he heads to Chanyeol. Baekhyun’s fingers clutch at the soft fabric of his pants. He wants to look away but he can’t. It’s like waiting for your mom to embarrass you in front of all your friends. Minseok bends down to say something in Chanyeol’s ear—the only time he gets to bend down to talk to Chanyeol is when he’s sitting down—and points towards Baekhyun.

Baekhyun swears at that moment, as Chanyeol turns to look at him in surprise, that he’s going to burn Minseok’s underwear first.

Baekhyun wiggles his fingers at Chanyeol in a pathetic attempt at a wave and prays to the gods that his face doesn’t look as hot as it feels. To his relief—well, actually it doesn’t relieve him so much as make him warmer and dizzier—Chanyeol wiggles his fingers back. Minseok walks past Baekhyun on his way back to the front door and gives him a not-at-all-hidden thumbs up.

“I will kill you,” Baekhyun mouths at Minseok. Minseok gives him a double thumbs-up, and Baekhyun suspects he’s pretending to misread what Baekhyun said as ‘Thank you.’ He doesn’t have time to correct him with a certain finger before the piano rings out again and Baekhyun’s attention is caught.

Chanyeol goes straight into playing a classical version of the opening to Vampire Knight. There’s no way that’s not on purpose, Baekhyun thinks. Then Chanyeol looks to the side and matches his grin to Baekhyun’s.

Chanyeol plays for the next hour and a half, taking five-minute breaks between his fifteen-minute sets to talk to people and take requests. Baekhyun stays the whole time, only moving a few times to cross and uncross his legs. He’s mesmerized, completely entranced by Chanyeol’s playing that he doesn’t notice how late it’s gotten or how hungry he is.

Chanyeol closes his set by playing “Waltz of the Flowers” again. He leaves his foot on the pedal and lets the last keys linger as the audience claps. Old women, young ladies, and a few men come up to the bench to complement his playing as others leave tips in the jar at the far end of the piano. It takes a while, but once the crowd thins Chanyeol’s at Baekhyun’s side.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” Baekhyun responds, looking up at Chanyeol. “You’re amazing.”

“Thanks,” Chanyeol says, shrugging one shoulder. “I practice a lot.”

Baekhyun scoots over on the loveseat and hopes Chanyeol doesn’t think he’s backing away. Chanyeol smiles and sits down.

“I never used to play for tips,” Chanyeol says, lifting his chin towards the jar bursting with bills. “But Sehun insisted I should.”

Baekhyun snorted. “If you didn’t play for tips, why did you play?” he asks. He’s never heard of a musician who didn’t play publicly for money. He’s seen plenty of street performers in his life, and they always have an empty coffee cup or hat or guitar case waiting. Though, at a place like La Vigilia, he figures they probably pay their musicians hourly or something.

“I used to just mess around and practice,” Chanyeol says. “I don’t get paid to play if that’s what you’re thinking. That’s why Sehun insisted I start taking tips.”

“Oh,” Baekhyun says, shocked. “La Vigilia seems like the type of place to hire their musicians.”

Chanyeol chuckles and shakes his head. “Oh, they do,” he says. “Don’t get me wrong. They just don’t pay me.”

“That’s weird.”

“I’m a special case,” Chanyeol says with a wide grin. His whole face lights up when he smiles, his nose scrunches and his eyes crease like he’s never been happier.

“You fix lights, play hostess, mix drinks, and play the piano for free,” Baekhyun says, counting down on his fingers. “Special case is putting it lightly.”

Chanyeol laughs, throwing his head back then forward, and hits the arm of the loveseat. Baekhyun thinks it might be his new mission in life to make Chanyeol laugh as much as possible for as long as they know each other. A voice in his head whispers, “To death do we part,” but Baekhyun ignores it because that’s a little creepy.

“You have no idea,” Chanyeol says finally, slightly hoarse. He’s still grinning. “I’m definitely the weirdest employee at the hotel.”

“You didn’t really tell me much about what else you do last time,” Baekhyun says.

“It’s true that I do a little bit of everything.” Chanyeol looks around the lobby and points to the front desk. “I’ll check people into their rooms, uh, I’ll clean sometimes if the maids need help, I take guests’ bags upstairs for them, I’ll watch the gym and pool, uhm, and I fix the plumbing and electrical.”

Baekhyun whistles lowly. “A man of many talents.”

“Trust me, there’s not much talent that goes into what I do here,” Chanyeol says. “Besides my music. That’s talent, but even then, it’s just hard work.”

Baekhyun’s about to say something else, ask Chanyeol another question when his stomach growls. Loudly. It startles both of them and they look down at Baekhyun’s stomach. His face feels like it’s on fire as he places a hand over it.

“Oops,” Baekhyun says, laughing.

“Oh, good. You’re hungry.”

“Why is that a good thing?” Baekhyun asks.

“Because then I have an excuse to ask you to go eat with me,” Chanyeol says. His words are brave and his voice is steady, but his smile has changed to something shy and awkward.

“Awesome,” Baekhyun says. He stands abruptly and puts his hand out to Chanyeol. “Let’s go. Where do you have in mind?”

“Do you like tacos?” Chanyeol asks, grabbing Baekhyun’s hand and letting himself be pulled to his feet. Baekhyun doesn’t drop his hand right away, instead, he holds on for a few seconds to feel the cool skin of Chanyeol’s palm and the rough callouses on his fingers.

Chanyeol’s so much taller than Baekhyun. He has to tilt his head up to look him in the eyes, and something about that makes Baekhyun’s hands sweat. He lets their hands drop and puts both of his in his slack pockets. “I love tacos.”

“Cool, I know a really good place a block away,” Chanyeol says. He walks to the piano and grabs the tip jar and wiggles it. Coins clink inside. “Food is on the house—or hotel, I guess.”

Baekhyun blinks into the humidity as they exit the hotel. The sunset was about an hour ago, but the summer heat hasn’t died down at all. His skin already feels tacky and he will fight the universe if it lets Chanyeol see him sweaty. He’s debating rolling up his sleeves, but Chanyeol’s already beating him to it, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt collar too.

Fuck, if he wasn’t sweating before, he is now.

Put your fists up universe, Baekhyun thinks.

“What?” Chanyeol asks. Baekhyun drags his eyes away from Chanyeol’s throat to look at him, confused. Chanyeol’s bottom lip is pulled between his teeth like he’s trying to bite away a smile. It’s not working.

“What?” Baekhyun repeats.

Chanyeol breaks. They’re in the middle of the sidewalk, less than twenty feet from La Vigilia’s parking entrance and who knows how far from the taco shop, and Chanyeol’s practically on the floor with laughter. He clutches at the fence of a fancy coffee shop, trying to hold himself up, but Baekhyun can see he’s shaking. Baekhyun hesitantly grabs the glass jar of tips from Chanyeol’s hand. It looks like it’s a guffaw away from slipping and shattering.

“You look like you’re in the middle of an earthquake,” Baekhyun says, trying to deadpan, but Chanyeol’s laughter is too contagious.

Chanyeol sucks in a deep breath. “You say your thoughts out loud,” Chanyeol says with a smile.

“Oh, shit,” Baekhyun says. He hits his forehead with the base of his palm. “You’re kidding me.”

“Nope.” Chanyeol’s like a newborn deer, struggling to find his balance as the last of his laughter wheezes out of him. Baekhyun’s never found someone this breathless, this cute. Ugh, disgusting. “I want to know why you want to fight the universe. I’m assuming that’s why you were telling it to put up its fists, right?”

Now it’s Baekhyun that’s almost on the ground.

“It’s okay if you want to fight the universe, Baek,” Chanyeol says. Baekhyun’s heart flutters so damn hard he worries it’s transformed into a bird. “I just think you might want to aim for something a little more attainable.”

“D’you think fighting you is more realistic?”

This sputters another laugh out of Chanyeol. “I wouldn’t recommend it. I can probably bench press you.”

Damn, that’s hot, Baekhyun thinks. He slaps a hand over his mouth just in case he tries to speak his stupid, horny thoughts. Chanyeol’s right next to him when he looks up, leaning in way too close to Baekhyun’s face. There’s a big, shit-eating grin on his face that only widens when Baekhyun jumps.

“What are you stopping yourself from saying?” he asks. The insufferable prick.

“Buy me tacos, and maybe I’ll tell you.”

Baekhyun spins on his heel, heading in the direction Chanyeol was leading them before. Chanyeol’s deep chuckle follows him as he jogs to catch up, but he doesn’t say anything else. Baekhyun steals a quick glance to the side. Chanyeol’s right next to him, close enough to brush their hands or elbows, and there’s a drop of sweat sliding from his hairline to his jaw, down his neck, and disappearing behind the collar of his shirt.

Shit, that’s hot.

He winces, ducking his chin to his chest, but doesn’t take his eyes off Chanyeol. Chanyeol doesn’t do anything. He doesn’t burst into laughter or look at Baekhyun terrified. Guess he didn’t say it out loud. Good for him. Point to Baekhyun.

“How much further?” Baekhyun asks, he’s not whining. He’s not.

Chanyeol just winks at him and turns a sudden corner. They head down a street narrow enough to be an ally, and if Baekhyun was just passing by he would think it was one. Just as he’s about to accuse Chanyeol of being a serial killer—and once again put his fists up to the universe for making his soulmate a serial killer—he sees lights and smells fried tortillas. Chanyeol stops outside a small shop, it’s really tiny, like sits four people at a bar countertop comfortably tiny, but has six seats so anyone who eats there will be squished against someone else.

“This is my secret place,” Chanyeol says, stepping down to the entrance of the shop. “I’ve never brought anyone else here before.”

Baekhyun’s heart acts like a bird again. “I’m honored,” he says dramatically. He puts his hand to his heart and throws his head back. It’s two parts to stop himself from kissing Chanyeol right there and then and one part to fuel the joke. Chanyeol snorts and moves the curtain back for Baekhyun to step through.

“Chanyeol-oppa!” a pink-haired girl says. She’s behind the counter in front of the kitchen. The restaurant is so small that she could probably reach one arm behind her and touch the wall and one arm in front of her and touch the customers. “I was wondering when you’d come back to visit.”

“Hi, Chaeyoung-ah,” Chanyeol says.

He ruffles her hair like he’s known her all her life—for all Baekhyun knows, he has—and takes a seat. Baekhyun awkwardly joins him, sitting next to the wall and playing with the label on Chanyeol’s tip jar, as Chaeyoung starts to catch Chanyeol up on all the drama and gossip in her life. She looks at Chanyeol like he hung the stars in the sky, and Baekhyun feels like a third-wheel.

“Then, Sera said I wasn’t allowed to go to the noraebang with them!” Chaeyoung says with a pout. Baekhyun has no idea what she’s been talking about. “I’m old enough to drink now, don’t you think that’s unfair?”

Chanyeol nods sympathetically. “It’s unfair. I’ll tell your unnies to be kinder next time I see them.” It sounds like he means it. How well does he know these people? “But, Chaeyoung as much as I love our talks, I’m kinda here with someone.”

The girl’s cute pout turns into a dark frown as she turns to Baekhyun. She looks him up and down like she’s sizing him up as a challenger. She must not think he’s worth much and flicks her long pink hair over her shoulder with a huff. Baekhyun can’t decide if he should be embarrassed or angry.

“I’m shocked, Oppa,” Chaeyoung says, flat-out ignoring Chanyeol’s hint to leave them alone. “You never bring anyone with you, and the one time you do it’s a guy? When are you going to bring a date?”

Baekhyun tenses. Gay marriage still isn’t legal in Korea—the Chief and his husband were married abroad, but it wasn’t looked at as official once they came back—and it’s always a toss-up to how someone’s going to react to his sexuality. He’s not even sure what Chanyeol’s sexuality is, much less if this is a date. Chanyeol’s shoulder presses into Baekhyun’s. At first, he thinks it’s an accident—they’re pretty close together, despite being the only customers—but then he meets Chanyeol’s steady gaze. It’s grounding and reassuring. Like he can see all of Baekhyun’s worries as clearly as words on a page.

“This is a date,” Chanyeol says, sounding as sure as if he was telling her his birthday. “Now, can we have some menus?”

Chaeyoung stands shock-still, her mouth opening and closing like a fish before her brain seems to catch up with the situation. Her face flushes. She mutters a quick apology and gently places two menus in front of them before disappearing into the kitchen.

Now they’re alone and Baekhyun doesn’t know what to say.

Date, this is a date. He feels like he’s been sucker-punched right between the ribs and all the air’s been stolen from his lungs. But is it actually a date or did Chanyeol just say that to get Chaeyoung off their backs? No, he would’ve just laughed it off. Right?

As Baekhyun soon as can breathe again, and he’s getting ready to open his mouth to ask Chanyeol answers

“Sorry,” Chanyeol says under his breath like he doesn’t want anyone but Baekhyun to hear. “She’s been flirting with me for years, like since I first ate here back when she was in middle school.”

“Oh.”

Guess it’s not a date.

“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable or anything.” Chanyeol’s eyes are so wide and his tone is so innocent like he’d rather be hit by a bus than make Baekhyun uncomfortable. It’s too much. Baekhyun’s hands twist into the fabric of his pants above his knees.

“No,” Baekhyun says, biting down on his lip. “It’s fine.”

It’s not like he’d gotten his hopes up or anything. Jongdae better kiss his underwear goodbye. They’ll be ash by morning.

“Good.” Chanyeol looks like he wants to say more, judging by his too-wide stare and the way he flounders with his mouth, but he shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts. Instead, he scoots even closer to Baekhyun. They’re pressed together from knee to shoulder now and he points to the menu. “Their bulgogi tacos are my favorite, but they also have a bunch of different flavors and meat combinations.”

He goes off, talking about ginger and chicken, sashimi and wasabi, cauliflower-something. It’s cute, the way he gestures with his hands as he talks too loud in Baekhyun’s ear. He almost drools at one point as he’s explaining the Indian-style curry tacos. Baekhyun laughs, of course, he laughs, but he can’t seem to shake the feeling that something’s wilted inside him.

“I think I’ll get the curry tacos,” Baekhyun says before Chanyeol can go into a spiel about spicy mayo or something. “The drool really sold it for me.”

Chanyeol’s ears turn bright red in seconds. “Good choice,” he says, ducking his head a bit. Chaeyoung comes out to take their order, but she avoids eye contact with both of them.

“I’m surprised you’ve known about this place so long,” Baekhyun says when she’s gone. “How did you find it?”

“Well, y’know how long I’ve been working at the hotel right?” Baekhyun nods. “Well, I came back after I graduated college. It was a weird time for me. I’d gone to school hoping to find my passion, but all I found was myself missing La Vigilia and everyone there.”

“You seem pretty passionate about music,” Baekhyun says. He doesn’t add how he’s never seen anyone so lost and in love with a piano the way Chanyeol is.

“I am.” Chanyeol sighs, running a hand through his hair and fluffing it up more. Baekhyun wants to ask if it’s naturally curly but now doesn’t seem like the right time. Maybe one day. “It was one of my majors. My mom wanted me to do business, but I wanted to do something less soul-sucking so I did both. But, I dunno, it still didn’t satisfy.” Chanyeol cringes and gives Baekhyun an embarrassed smile. “I swear I’m not some lazy bum working at the hotel because it’s easier than working to be some big executive or a K-Pop star or something.”

“I get it, though,” Baekhyun says, trying to sound as sincere as he can. Jongdae would say this is a moment he needs to be sensitive instead of cracking a dumb joke. “Dancing’s hard.”

What can he say? He’s not Jongdae. It normally works out for him, though, and Chanyeol slaps the counter as he laughs. Baekhyun shoots him some—pathetic—finger guns.

“It is hard,” Chanyeol says, wheezing out a last “hee hee.” “Especially because I have no rhythm.”

“I find that hard to believe, somehow,” Baekhyun says with doubt. “You’re so good at practically everything else.”

“Believe me, and I’m not good at everything. I just don’t tell anyone about what I’m not good at.”

Baekhyun flutters his eyelashes. “Awe, so I’m a special case?”

“Special is one word for it,” Chanyeol says, his voice low and husky. Baekhyun can’t tell if it’s because a few more customers just walked in or because he’s flirting. Either way, it makes his stomach flip.

The chef brings out their orders personally, reaching over the counter to slap Chanyeol on the shoulder as he compliments Chanyeol’s taste in dates. Baekhyun’s a blushing, stammering mess, but Chanyeol just thanks him kindly. For some reason, that makes Baekhyun want to argue, say Chanyeol doesn’t have a great taste in dates because this isn’t a date, but saying it out loud will make it real. Make it less of a date than it already is. Baekhyun wants to keep the façade up a little longer. How pathetic.

Luckily, the smell of curried chicken and fried tortillas pulls him out of his sad thought cloud. Chanyeol watches, with too much pride considering he didn’t make the food, as Baekhyun eats. It’s a little embarrassing because, as Jongdae loves to remind him, Baekhyun eats like he’s in a mukbang. Too many noises here, too loud chewing there, too much enthusiasm everywhere. Yet, Chanyeol smiles like it’s anything but gross.

Baekhyun has to keep reminding himself it isn’t a date or else he’s going to be seriously disappointed in a couple of hours.

“Told you it was a really good place,” Chanyeol says, finally tucking into his own tacos. He offers Baekhyun a bite. It’d be rude to refuse—or at least that’s the excuse Baekhyun’s giving himself as he leans forward and takes a bite of the taco in Chanyeol’s hand. He lets himself look up at Chanyeol through his eyelashes and if the bird in his heart throws a fit then that’s for him to know. The taste of sage and lemon and delicate fish covers Baekhyun’s taste buds and he nearly groans.

“That’s delicious,” Baekhyun says. “Why have you never brought anyone else here before?”

It’s a good question, but it seems to be the wrong one as Chanyeol frowns down at the table. Baekhyun backtracks, despite how much his curiosity is screaming at him to press further.

“You don’t have to answer that. Jongdae tells me I need to learn to read a room before I ask questions.”

Chanyeol furrows his brows. “Who?”

“My roommate,” Baekhyun explains, with a soft laugh that’s more like a sigh. “He’s dating Minseok, the head of security at La Vigilia.”

“Oh, the Dim Sum boyfriend.”

Baekhyun snorts. “I used to call Minseok Dim Sum Cutie before I met him.”

“I still haven’t met the boyfriend—Jongdae?” Chanyeol raises his voice an octave on Jongdae’s name like he’s not sure he heard it right.

“Count your blessings while you have them,” Baekhyun says with the deep exhaustion one can only have after knowing and living with Jongdae for a decade. But Chanyeol doesn’t know Jongdae, or how wonderfully kind he is, so he adds, “You’ll love him. He’s an insufferable dork, but he’s my insufferable dork.”

“I bet I will,” Chanyeol says and it sounds like he believes it. “But he’s wrong. I think you should ask as many questions as you want. The reason I’ve never shown anyone else this place is because, well, with a life like mine it’s rare for me to get to have any secrets.”

“What do you mean?”

Chanyeol shoves the last bit of his taco into his mouth, pushing it into his cheeks as he speaks. It’s basically talking with his mouth full, but Baekhyun doesn’t find it disgusting. Oddly.

“My parents were pretty strict with my sister and I,” he says. “They needed to know where we were every second of every day, and when I was a kid, I hated it. I didn’t get to go to my friends’ houses very often or to arcades after school.”

“Wow,” Baekhyun says, stunned. “Not to sound, rude, but how do they feel about you working at the hotel instead of using your degrees?”

“They’re actually completely okay with it,” Chanyeol says, proudly. “They just want me to be happy and they know working at the hotel is what makes me happy. My childhood sounds like a lot, but I know now it was for my own good. My mom’s job is…” He pauses like he can’t figure out the right word. He chews and swallows, takes a drink of water, and swirls it around like he’s swirling around for what to say. “Pretty high up, I guess? A lot of people would take the first chance they get to harm her standing and young kids are an easy target.”

Baekhyun couldn’t imagine. His parents work regular nine-to-fives, but it sounds like Chanyeol’s mom might be something like a lawyer or a high-level employee for a company.

“Working at La Vigilia in high school was the first time my parents didn’t have to have eyes on me twenty-four seven. No one there knew or cared about who my mom is—they still don’t—and that meant for the first time, in my life, I had freedom. My college life, sadly, wasn’t the same. It was good the first two years, but in my third year, some dumbass teacher of one of my business classes used to work under my mom years ago and decided he was going to tell everyone about it. I had business majors following me everywhere asking me to put in a good word for them to get an internship or some bull.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Baekhyun throws his hands in the air. “I might’ve not experienced that in college, but I get it all the time from temps at For You that catch me on my lunch break or in the copy room. I won’t put in a good word for them unless I’ve personally seen their hard work and I’m the Senior Editor. A college student’s word for some random friend at school wouldn’t do shit, doesn’t matter if your mom is some high up executive or something.”

“Right?” Chanyeol says, indignant. He runs a hand through his hair. “Yet it wouldn’t stop till I graduated and came back to the hotel.”

“That’s crap.” Baekhyun hesitantly puts his hand around Chanyeol’s forearm—right over the cute monkey tattoo he knows is there even if he can’t see it—and squeezes. “I’m sorry you had to go through that in college.”

Chanyeol’s hand covers Baekhyun’s. It’s warm and dry and Baekhyun hopes he can’t feel how much his pulse is racing.

“Thanks,” Chanyeol says with a crooked smile. “It wasn’t all bad. That’s where I met Sehun. I just felt like I had no privacy, no secrets, so when I graduated and started working here again, I wanted something that felt like that. Something that was mine and mine only.”

“So, you found the taco shop and that became your thing.”

“Exactly.”

Baekhyun’s speechless. Like really, really speechless. So speechless he thinks his tongue might’ve followed his curry tacos down his esophagus. When he gets home, a newly declared mute, Jongdae’s either going to be pumped or…pumped.

“Yeah, so,” Chanyeol says with a shrug when Baekhyun doesn’t say anything else. It’s a sad attempt to fill the silence, but Baekhyun’s just. He’s speechless. But Chanyeol deserves something more than a dumb expression from him so he fishes his tongue out of his stomach.

“Why did you bring me?” Baekhyun asks so quietly it’s nearly a whisper. Chanyeol leans ever-so-closer into the space that doesn’t exist between them.

“You seem like someone I can trust with my secrets,” Chanyeol says like that explains anything at all whatsoever. Baekhyun reaches out and pinches Chanyeol’s nostrils together. He yelps, wrenching back so quickly he bumps into the businessman two seats away. “Sorry,” Chanyeol says to the man, bowing his head in rapid succession, and then to Baekhyun, “What the hell was that for?”

“It’s for being cryptic,” Baekhyun says. The bird in his chest is flapping its wings and pecking at his ribs, but he doesn’t stop. “I can’t tell if you’re flirting with me or not.”

Chanyeol’s ears turn bright red. If he was luckier and wasn’t born the human equivalent of a floppy-eared dog, maybe Baekhyun wouldn’t see, but he does. The tips stick out from under Chanyeol’s hair and Baekhyun feels like he’s finally going to get some answers.

“Sorry,” Chanyeol says. “I’m not very good at this.”

“Good at what?” Baekhyun hedges.

“Flirting, dating, trying to catch the attention of a guy I saw in a fancy suit, drunkenly hugging a pillar,” Chanyeol says. He shrugs one shoulder and leans away like he’s finally realized how close together they are. “Minseok said I should ask you out for food like last month, but it took me till now to work up the courage.”

He’s endearingly honest. Baekhyun’s never been good with wearing his heart on his sleeve, but he admires how Chanyeol can. He also can’t really believe that this is happening. He’s gone years, years, without a date, has it always been this easy? No, some wise otherworldly voice says in Baekhyun’s head, it’s straightforward, yes, but not easy. Another one mentions soulmates again, but Baekhyun pretends not to hear it.

“So, this is a date?” Baekhyun asks because he needs to be sure.

Chanyeol’s ears are so red at this point, Baekhyun’s afraid they’re going to melt off. “If you want it to be.”

Baekhyun, with courage he didn’t know he had, pulls Chanyeol in by the collar of his button-up so close their noses almost touch. He hopes no one in the restaurant is looking at them when he pecks Chanyeol on the corner of his mouth. “I want it to be,” he whispers against Chanyeol’s mouth.

“Awesome,” Chanyeol says.

They’re both smiling like idiots when a wolf-whistle makes them jump apart—Chanyeol barely saves himself from bumping into the grumbling businessman again and Baekhyun’s head hits the restaurant wall. They look up to see the chef giving them two thumbs up and Chaeyoung blushing a vibrant red, her eyes everywhere but on them. Baekhyun feels way too hot and way too sweaty all of a sudden.

“We should go,” Chanyeol says to Baekhyun through the corner of his mouth. He awkwardly returns the chef’s thumbs-up, and Baekhyun softly smacks his hands down.

“Yes, we should,” Baekhyun says. The chef may not be bothered by two men kissing in his shop, but the small group of businessmen is giving them mean looks.

 Chanyeol reaches over Baekhyun for the tip jar and dutifully counts out each bill and coin to pay for their tacos. They leave with Baekhyun’s hand tucked into Chanyeol’s elbow. Somehow, it’s gotten hotter outside. Baekhyun doesn’t really feel it till they’ve stepped out of the ally and back onto the main street, but the humidity is thicker than soup. It’s like the taco shop has its own protective bubble from shit weather.

“Okay, I can’t,” Baekhyun says, stopping suddenly in the middle of the sidewalk and dragging Chanyeol with him. He lets go of Chanyeol’s arm, and it it’s more like he has to pry his sweat-sticky fingers off of Chanyeol’s suit jacket than that’s between him and the universe. Chanyeol looks worried, but then Baekhyun takes off his blazer and he melts a little less.

“Oh,” he says. “I thought you were going to take back going on a date with me or something.”

Baekhyun snorts, primly folding his blazer over his forearm. “You’re going to wish it’s that easy to get rid of me.”

Chanyeol looks at him fondly, a soft smile on his face that makes Baekhyun feel hotter. “Nah,” Chanyeol says, guiding Baekhyun’s hand back to the crook of his elbow. It’s welcomed warmth, despite the sweat dripping down Baekhyun’s neck. “I doubt that.”

“D-do you use that line on all the pretty girls or just me?” Baekhyun winces at the sound of his own voice. He’s trying to be smooth and impress Chanyeol not make him laugh at the way he stutters on a return line. He shakes the neck of the graphic t-shirt he had under his blazer, an attempt to cool the blush crawling up his chest but easily excused because of how hot the night is. Chanyeol laughs—not as violently as earlier, just a cute little scrunch of his nose—but he doesn’t look turned off. In fact…

No, it’s probably just because it’s dark out.

But they are standing under a street light.

Just to test it, Baekhyun slows their pace and looks up at Chanyeol through his eyelashes. He tugs at his shirt a little more, making sure to expose his collar bones, and, yep, there it is.

Chanyeol’s pupils are blown. Dark and covering most of his iris. If it wasn’t for the streetlight turning the ring around his pupils a honeyed brown, Baekhyun probably wouldn’t be able to tell. His eyes are usually so dark, staring right through Baekhyun, not that that’s changed right now.

Heat oppresses Baekhyun. Closing in on all sides and pressing up into his chest and lower. With the way Chanyeol’s looking at him, it’d be so easy to ask him to stay the night, get him in his bed, and go into work Monday morning de-stressed and well-fucked.

Baekhyun licks his lips, watching the way Chanyeol follows it with his eyes.

“So, it’s getting pretty late,” Chanyeol says, clearing his throat. Anticipation grows in Baekhyun’s belly, but he stamps it down. He learned the hard way that he isn’t the one-night stand type of guy. If Chanyeol’s hoping to hit it and quit it, he should look somewhere else, is what Baekhyun’s thinking but his stupid guy parts are protesting loudly. Thank god his dick can’t actually make noise or that would be so embarrassing.

Wait. Late?

Baekhyun looks at his watch—his last birthday gift from Taemin. It’s silver and delicate on a thin, black leather strap, and the best part is it goes with everything—and curses. “I missed the last bus.”

“You took the bus?”

Chanyeol has his head tilted like a confused puppy. What did he think? That Baekhyun had a car? Baekhyun asks him this and the disbelief on his face must be really obvious because Chanyeol looks sheepish.

“Well, kinda,” Chanyeol says, scratching the back of his head. “Senior Editor sounds like a job where you’d have a car.”

Baekhyun laughs, throwing his whole head back. “I wish. Editor-in-Chief is the job that gets you a car. That’s years away from me, maybe decades, but that’s okay I like taking the bus.”

Chanyeol’s lips wobble into a smile. “Well, I can drive you home if you want.”

“You have a car?”

“What? Hotel handyman-slash-slave doesn’t sound like a job where I’d have a car?”

“Definitely not,” Baekhyun says breathlessly, and wonders—not for the first time—about how weird Chanyeol is.

“Well, good thing I don’t have a car,” Chanyeol says. He walks backward towards La Vigilia’s sign and just when Baekhyun thinks he’s going to hit it; he spins around and slides past it. Baekhyun runs to catch up.

“How are you going to drive me home then?”

Chanyeol throws him a grin over his shoulder. Baekhyun catches up and bumps into Chanyeol playfully. They walk around the edge of La Vigilia’s parking lot, dodging and weaving through sparkling cars that Baekhyun could never even dream of owning, till they reach a small side parking lot reserved for employees. It’s almost empty, besides a few plain silver cars and a little blue motor scooter.

Oh.

“You’re going to drive me home on a scooter?” Baekhyun asks, trying and failing to keep the laugher out of his voice. Chanyeol hops towards the stupid little blue thing and sweeps his hands out in a grand display.

“Absolutely.”

“Awesome.”

Riding on the back of a scooter isn’t as terrifying as Baekhyun’s thought a motorcycle would be, but that doesn’t mean for the first half of the drive he doesn’t cling to Chanyeol when a car passes by them or they take a corner too quickly. Sometimes, he does it even when he’s not worried about falling off. Every time his grip tightens even the slightest bit, he can feel Chanyeol’s laugh rumble through his back and against Baekhyun’s chest and that’s. Well, that’s nice.

La Vigilia isn’t a good twenty-five-minute drive from Baekhyun and Jongdae’s apartment—longer when they’re with his coworkers and each one lives in a different part of Seoul. Chanyeol has the directions up on his phone, locked into a holder between the handlebars, and by the time they reach the freeways, Baekhyun’s able to lean back and look around as they go.

He can’t feel the air on his face, since Chanyeol stuck a chunky, spare helmet on his head, but the hot July air running over his bare arms and under his t-shirt feels cool at this speed.

“Seoul is beautiful like this,” Baekhyun shouts, hoping Chanyeol can hear him.

“Isn’t it?” he yells back. Baekhyun barely catches it before the sound is stolen by the wind. “Why have a car when you can drive like this?”

Baekhyun throws his head back and laughs. The weight of his helmet takes him back further than he expected so he has to twist his hands into Chanyeol’s shirt so he doesn’t fall. Chanyeol’s back rumbles with laughter again, but this time he releases one of the handlebars to wrap his fingers around Baekhyun’s. It’s only for a second before he lets go. Baekhyun has to physically stop his hand from chasing Chanyeol’s. He has plenty of chances to hold Chanyeol’s hand in the future—he hopes—and none of those should be on a scooter on the freeway where he could touch one of the cars speeding by if he just stretched his arm out and leaned a little bit.

“We’re going to cross the river now,” Chanyeol shouts over his shoulder. The scooter jostles as road transitions to bridge. “Look to the right.”

Baekhyun turns and gasps. The night sky in Seoul is too polluted to see stars, but the lights of the city reflect off the water like a galaxy. Windows of skyscrapers make rippling constellations that take Baekhyun’s breath away.

He’s crossed this bridge for years, in taxis, friends’ cars, or just walking on the section carved out for pedestrians, but he’s never seen it like this. Usually, he wouldn’t even look at the water because he’d have people to talk to, social media to check, but being on a scooter makes it hard to talk to each other and impossible to be on his phone. Without the tinted windows of a car in the way, the colors of the river and the lights are brighter, more vivid, more alive. He rests his cheek in the space between Chanyeol’s shoulders, their helmets clatter together, but he doesn’t notice.

“Wow,” he says to himself. Chanyeol must feel him say it and hums. It vibrates against Baekhyun’s cheek and he smiles. Best date, ever.

The bridge, and its spectacular view, ends. Chanyeol switches lanes, cutting what Baekhyun thinks is way too close between cars, and turns into Baekhyun’s apartment complex. He parks where Baekhyun points—his apartment came with a reserved parking spot, but the only thing in it is dust and Jongdae’s bike. Chanyeol waits for Baekhyun to get off before he swings his own leg over and gets up.  

“Here, let me get your helmet for you,” Chanyeol says. His fingers come up to the clasp under Baekhyun’s chin and Baekhyun lets him, even though he could totally have done it himself. Chanyeol pulls the helmet off carefully like he doesn’t want Baekhyun’s earrings to snag. He’s not wearing anything dangly tonight, but he appreciates it.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Baekhyun rocks back on his heels. Chanyeol palms the helmet but doesn’t move to put it away or grab Baekhyun’s blazer from the scooter’s storage compartment.

“Can we do this again sometime?” Chanyeol asks softly like he’s completely unaware of his effect on Baekhyun. Which, he probably is. Chanyeol seems pretty oblivious, and that’s coming from Baekhyun.

Baekhyun steps closer to Chanyeol, a teasing smile on his face. “I’d love to do this again. Next date, I’ll pay.”

“Okay,” Chanyeol says. He’s grinning. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Baekhyun agrees. He’s still awfully close to Chanyeol, and both of their eyes keep looking at the other’s lips. He doesn’t make a move though. He’s not sure how common it is to kiss on the first date. Before he can consider it more, Chanyeol steps away. Baekhyun’s disappointed but relieved at the same time.

There’s no way he could kiss Chanyeol tonight and not drag him upstairs to… well.

Chanyeol pops open the seat of the scooter, pulling out Baekhyun’s neatly folded blazer, and stuffing the helmet inside.

“Here you go,” Chanyeol says, handing it back. Baekhyun takes it, letting their fingers brush. He hopes it comes off as flirtatious as he wants it to and not gross because his hands are sweaty. Chanyeol’s ears are red, so he thinks it came off well if a little sweaty. “Well, I better go.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Chanyeol breathes. He almost backs into his scooter, but saves himself at the last minute and swings his leg over the seat instead. “I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

Baekhyun wiggles his fingers as Chanyeol rolls the scooter out of the parking space and out onto the street. He waves at Baekhyun over his shoulder before he takes off, a big, dopey grin on his face.

Baekhyun squeezes his blazer against his chest, feeling more like a school kid with a crush than he’s ever felt before. If this is the honeymoon phase, he’s worried how mushy he’s going to get when he’s actually and fully in love with Chanyeol.

He wanders through the lobby and up to his apartment in haze. It’s only when he closes the door behind him and Jongdae flies around the corner like he’s been waiting for hours to hear details—which he probably has, Minseok probably texted him as soon as he saw Baekhyun and Chanyeol leave the building together—that a thought hits him.

“I didn’t get his number,” Baekhyun says, horrified.

Jongdae collapses to the floor in laughter. “You’re an idiot.”

“You look very nice tonight, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun looks down at himself then towards Taemin. “Thanks, Chief,” he says proudly.

“He spent a whole three days planning that one,” Jongdae pipes up helpfully from the back. He’s lucky his seat’s behind Baekhyun, Baekhyun can’t kick him from here. He does, though, ask Kyungsoo too.

“OW!”

Good ol’ reliable Kyungsoo. Always willing to kick his friends in the shins.

Yes, Baekhyun did spend three days planning his outfit, but can anyone really blame him? He finally has time to see Chanyeol and ask for his number while trying not to be too embarrassed that he forgot to ask for it on their first date. For Baekhyun and probably most people in the fashion industry, he gets his courage from clothes.

Tonight, he needs it.

It’s already helping; he looks damn good. He decided on black slacks with vertical white pinstripes, they have eyelid hooks on the inside instead of buttons so the lack of a belt creates a clean line at his hips. His shirt is a plain white button-down, but the eye-catcher is its Chelsea collar. Baekhyun actually found it in the women’s department – clothes have no gender, and he’ll fight anyone who says so – and it’s the only shirt he has that defines his collar bones in a classy way when he leaves the top few buttons undone because it’s smooth and not forced unlike how a standard collar can often look. Baekhyun’s always thought the Chelsea was designed to be a little revealing.

The pièce de résistance of the outfit is the blazer. It’s black silk and collarless with embroidered thorny vines growing in a shimmering silver from his left hip, up and onto his right shoulder. It’s probably one of the most expensive pieces he owns, but he didn’t actually pay for it. He snatched it—with permission, kinda—off a photoshoot set last year. He finished his outfit off with plain black oxfords, a smudge of eyeshadow, and styled his hair to look windblown.

Jongdae said he looks like he just stepped off a helicopter while the rotor was still going.

Baekhyun said perfect.

“I have someone to impress,” Baekhyun says, sticking his nose in the air to hide his blush. “Y’know it reminds me of a certain someone asking me for fashion advice every time we go to La Vigilia so a certain Minseok doesn’t see him being nasty at a fancy place.”

Baekhyun realizes then, that Jongdae’s behind him and can kick the back of his seat. This is going to be a long drive.

“I didn’t even ask for your help this time,” Jongdae says.

He’s right. He didn’t even ask for Baekhyun’s approval before they were out the door, only sparing a moment outside the car for Baekhyun to look him over and nod appreciatively. Jongdae went for simple and classic tonight, black slacks, a warm brown button-up, and a lighter brown cardigan with large vintage buttons.

Baekhyun frowns and twists in his seat awkwardly to grab at Jongdae’s ankles. “You look great and you did it without my help at all,” he snaps. “Now, stop kicking my chair.”

“I think Baekhyun feels useless now that you can dress yourself properly,” Jongin says innocently. Yixing snorts.

“I’m not speaking to any of you ever again.” Baekhyun turns away from them all, after a swift kick to Jongin’s shin because he can reach him, intent on making good on that promise. His friends all whine, tugging at his blazer, pants, hair, anything they can reach really.

“Don’t give us the silent treatment, Baek.” Jongin sounds much sweeter than someone who was just kicked in the shin should.

“We make fun of you because we love you,” Yixing adds.

“Being silent is creepily out of character for you,” Kyungsoo says in a perfect deadpan. Baekhyun rests his chin in his palm to hide how that almost broke him. He watches the reflection of his friends’ smiles in the window.

“I’ll have to agree with that,” Taemin says from the front seat. He turns and throws Baekhyun a wink with a grin that tells Baekhyun he’s not convincing anyone he’s actually mad. “I’m way too used to hearing you yell from my office now that if you stopped it’d completely throw off the Feng Shui of our floor.”

Baekhyun sighs heavily, like the world’s really against him like there isn’t a smile on his face. “Fine,” he says. “I’ll keep speaking to you all. It seems like you’d really struggle without my witty comments and hilarious jokes.”

Jongdae kicks his seat.

Chanyeol’s not in the lobby, but Minseok is. He’s in uniform, standing just inside the main entrance, and acting very much the part of Head of Security.

“Welcome to La Vigilia,” Minseok greets. If it wasn’t for the fondness crinkling the corners of his eyes, Baekhyun would assume he didn’t recognize them. Everyone else seems just as surprised by his professionalism. Usually, Minseok would greet them with hugs, high-fives, and laughter, but tonight he keeps his arms crossed across his chest.

Baekhyun sticks his tongue out as Minseok nods stiffly at them, motioning them inside. Minseok acknowledges him with the slightest quirk of his lips before saying something into his headset. It sounds like code. There are more security guards than normal tonight – half are dressed in the maroon uniform of the hotel and half are wearing black, nondescript suits – and Baekhyun has a feeling that means someone very important is staying at La Vigilia.

Jongdae doesn’t seem to know what to do. He fidgets a couple of steps away from Minseok like he’s deciding whether to greet him like a boyfriend, an acquaintance, or an employee. Baekhyun can practically taste the awkward. Taemin and the others head toward the stairs, Jongin taking up the back with a flap of his long, bisset plaid coat. How he’s wearing that in summer, Baekhyun will never understand.

“C’mon, Dae,” Baekhyun says, because honestly. Jongdae grins, but he’s so stiff it’s practically a wince.

Minseok drops the security act for just a second as Jongdae walks by him, reaching out for his boyfriend’s hand and bringing Jongdae’s knuckles up to his lips softly. Baekhyun turns away, but not before catching Jongdae’s dopey smile.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” Minseok whispers so quietly that Baekhyun barely catches it.

“Okay,” Jongdae breathes.

Baekhyun strides towards the stairs and coughs to hide his own dopey smile. What? He’s happy for his best friend, but that doesn’t mean Jongdae has to know that. At least, not right this very second. Jongdae’s footsteps fall in with his not long after.

“How much do you want to bet it’s an actor?” Baekhyun says.

Jongdae snorts. “With this much security? No way. It has to be a politician.”

“I stand by my famous person bet. I once stayed at the same hotel as BigBang and they had a security team larger than my brother’s track team.”

“Yeah, yeah, everyone knows you’ve seen G-Dragon in his pajamas before. You bring it up all the time.” Jongdae sticks out his hand. “Loser buys barbeque.”

Baekhyun shakes on it.

Once they join their team upstairs, Baekhyun looks down at the lobby. It’s making him a little nervous that he hasn’t seen Chanyeol yet, but he could be anywhere in the hotel.

“Y’know,” Jongdae says, bumping their shoulders together. “You could always ask Minseok to give you Chanyeol’s number, or have him give Chanyeol yours.”

Baekhyun’s brows pinch low over his eyes. “Why didn’t I think of that weeks ago?”

They sit outside. La Vigilia’s restaurant has balcony seating that’s usually so full during the summertime that Baekhyun’s never heard the hostess offer it to them till tonight. He, Jongdae, and Yixing rush ahead of the group to breathe the fresh air and gush about the view.

The balcony is on the side of the hotel facing a lush, green public park. Since they’re only two stories up, the treetops are in line with the tables and the hotel has taken the liberty to string the closet trees with fairy lights. Wisteria wraps around the railing and reaches over the gap and winds into the trees as well. The vines are such a pale, vibrant purple, that they appear to be glowing under the lights of the restaurant and the trees. Each table has a small candle inside a deep mason jar, tied around the rim with twine. It’s such a rustic decoration, and while the indoor seating has them too, it has a different effect outside.

“I feel like I should be wearing my pajamas and holding a mug of hot cocoa,” Baekhyun says, with eyes half-closed that make the flames look like little dancing blurs of light.

“I get it, but shut up,” Jongdae says, pulling Baekhyun out of his stupor by pushing him into one of the three chairs closest to the railing. He and Yixing the other two, leaning back close enough that the wisteria tickles the tops of their hair. Jongin doesn’t pout too much when he realizes he has to sit far from the edge; it melts as soon as Kyungsoo settles into the seat next to him, draping his arm across the back of Jongin’s chair.

A cute high school kid comes to take their orders, but Baekhyun’s looking everywhere but the menu. Chanyeol’s worked as a bartender and a hostess, it’s not a stretch for Baekhyun to hope he’s on the floor as a server or busboy tonight. Jongdae ends up ordering for Baekhyun.

“Wait,” Baekhyun says, taking a sip of his water. “Where did the waiter go?”

“He took our orders so he left,” Kyungsoo says. “Obviously.”

Baekhyun flaps his mouth and his hands. “I didn’t order!”

“I got you the Jamaican style beef kebabs,” Jongdae says.

“With-” Baekhyun starts, and Jongdae finishes, “With a side of fried plantains and black beans.”

“You’re my new best friend,” Baekhyun says, with his hands clasped in front of his chest and his lower lip jutting out fondly. Jongdae frowns.

“I thought I already was?”

Kyungsoo flicks water from his glass at both of them. “Stop. Your affection is disgusting. Baekhyun’s messing with you, of course, you’re his best friend.”

“His only other option is one of us,” Jongin adds. “And I don’t know if any of us want that title.”

Baekhyun gasps and when Taemin laughs, he gasps louder. “Now none of you will ever get the chance.”

“I feel so special,” Jongdae says dryly. He takes a bite of the fancy bread and butter brought to them while they wait. “Not even winning the lottery would make me feel this blessed.”

Baekhyun wraps his arms around Jongdae and when he tries to smack a wet kiss on his cheek, he gets a face-full of butter and bread.

The food is delicious, the view is gorgeous, the company is hilarious, but two hours into their dinner, Baekhyun’s heart is starting to deflate. There’s still no sign of Chanyeol, and while Baekhyun knows he’s working and that he doesn’t know Baekhyun’s here, it still feels like Chanyeol’s avoiding him. Ugh. Feelings. This is why Baekhyun avoids them as much as he can, he hasn’t felt this much self-doubt since college.

Not since he didn’t know what he was going to do with his life. When he wore ratty basketball shorts or sweats and t-shirts or hoodies religiously. When he didn’t know how to style his hair past pushing it out of his face when it fell into his eyes in class and his glasses were too clunky. When the label of class clown still followed him everywhere and no one took him seriously.

Back when he first met Chanyeol.

Damnit.  

The anticipation gets to be too much and Baekhyun sets down the napkin he was fiddling with. “I’ll be right back,” he says and before anyone can say anything, he disappears inside to the bar.

Sehun is standing behind it like he hoped he’d be, shaking a mixer. Baekhyun slides into the empty stool in front of him and Sehun looks at him with a raised eyebrow,

“Hello,” he says.

“Hi,” Baekhyun says, bouncing nervously in his seat.

“Can I help—”

“Is Chanyeol here tonight,” Baekhyun interrupts. Sehun’s impassive expression twitches slightly.

“I’m guessing you’re feeling as stupid as he is for not exchanging numbers?”

“Yes,” Baekhyun says with complete honesty.

Sehun looks at him with wide eyes before he chokes on air and breaks into laughter. “Oh man, that’s too good. I like you,” he says with a wide grin. Baekhyun  flushes with pride. There’s nothing quite like getting approved by a potential boyfriend’s friend.

“Thank you, I like you too. Chanyeol?”

Sehun rolls his eyes. “Dunno, but I can text him that you’re here.”

Baekhyun edges forward and rests his elbows on the bar. “Or you can give me his number?”

“Nope, this is way funnier.”

Baekhyun pouts. “I take it back, I don’t like you.” It’s risqué to say, but that’s Baekhyun’s whole existence and Chanyeol seems to like it. Sehun doesn’t seem phased either.

“Lol,” he says verbally. He takes his phone out and sends out a rapid-fire text. “He’ll answer eventually, or, knowing him, he’ll just come running.”

Almost immediately after he says that, his phone buzzes in his hand. Sehun raises an eyebrow and reads the message. He frowns. Baekhyun’s stomach drops with a whoosh.

“What’s it say?”

“He’s with family,” Sehun says. “He says he’ll be done before you leave so wait for him down at the front desk.”

Baekhyun nods once and slides off the stool. “Thanks.”

“See you later, Chanyeol’s boyfriend.”

Baekhyun feels himself flush all the way to the tips of his ears, which makes him think of Chanyeol and he blushes harder. By the time he makes it back to his table, his face is uncomfortably hot and he hopes no one teases him.

Downstairs, Baekhyun awkwardly approaches the counter. His coworkers and friends say they’ll wait for him at the couches. Baekhyun told them they didn’t have to, Chanyeol could take him home, but Taemin insisted they make sure he shows up first. It’s touching if not a little embarrassing to know all of them will be watching him.

There’s a beautiful man with warm eyes and soft-looking black hair behind the counter.

“Hello, sir, how may I help you?” His nametag reads Junmyeon. Baekhyun smiles.

“I’m just waiting for someone. Uh, Chanyeol?”

Junmyeon’s eyes sparkle. Like literally. Baekhyun’s never seen someone’s eyes sparkle before outside of cartoons. “Oh, you’re the guy Sehun texted me about?”

Baekhyun shrugs. Junmyeon laughs. He seems like the type to laugh easily.

“Well, you’re in luck, Chanyeol should be here in a few minutes.”

“How do you know that?” Baekhyun asks. “I thought he was with family.”

“I know everything that happens inside this hotel,” Junmyeon says cryptically.

Baekhyun’s about to ask him more, maybe about why Chanyeol does so many odd jobs, but before he can, there’s commotion from the stairs above them. He looks up and to the side to see a copious number of employees and bodyguards heading down to the lobby. In the middle of it all is a woman around the age of Baekhyun’s mother dressed in a black dress with flowers sewn into the lace and a woman that looks to be her daughter in a white pantsuit.

From the lobby, there’s a flash of cameras and Baekhyun turns to see a bunch of paparazzi.

“Who are they?” he asks.

“That’s La Vigilia’s CEO and her daughter,” Junmyeon says with a smile in his voice.

Baekhyun blinks and watches them go through the lobby, the woman in the pantsuit breaks away from her mother with her own bodyguards to greet Yixing. Baekhyun nearly laughs at the star-struck expression on his friends’ faces as they’re introduced to a hotel heiress, but he doesn’t. Not long after, the woman leaves with her mother without sparing the photographers a glance.

“Wow,” Baekhyun says.

“Impressive, aren’t they?”

“Oh, no,” Baekhyun says but stumbles to correct himself at Junmyeon’s expression. “I mean, yes, they are impressive, I love the hotel they’ve built and they seem very successful, but I was wow-ing at that dress. That lace must be hand-sewn. It’s gorgeous.”

This startles yet another laugh out of Junmyeon and Baekhyun smiles sheepishly. He’s about to say he’s the writer for a fashion magazine when there’s a tap on his shoulder.

“Found you,” Chanyeol says, his voice husky and breathless from running.

Baekhyun whirls around and has no doubt that his smile is blinding, “There you are,” he says as smoothly as he can.

Chanyeol grins. “Here I am. I’m glad I didn’t miss you. I thought I missed you.”

“That’s okay, sorry to take you away from your family.”

Chanyeol shrugs. “More like you’re giving me an excuse to get away from their nagging.”

Junmyeon snorts behind them, Baekhyun and Chanyeol turn to look at him with matching expressions of surprise. Baekhyun had forgotten he was there.

“Oh, don’t mind me, boys,” Junmyeon says. With a wink, he adds, “Chanyeol, this one’s a good one.”

Chanyeol’s ears turn red, but he grins and says, “Yeah, he is.” For the first time, Baekhyun notices the heart eyes Jongdae had mentioned. It makes the bird in his chest swoon.

“Shut up,” Baekhyun says, hoping he doesn’t sound as embarrassed and gooey as he feels. “Give me your damn number.”

Chanyeol snickers and holds his hand out for Baekhyun’s phone.

Later that night, when Baekhyun’s laying in bed wearing an old Mino concert t-shirt and boxers, his phone buzzes.

*:･ﾟ✧ Chanyeolie ✧ ﾟ･:*:

Can I pick you up for lunch tomorrow?

Baekhyun:

I’d be offended if you didn’t