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“Put me down, I’m— I’m a god.”
Sehun sighs, willfully ignoring Baekhyun’s whined complaint and hot breath brushing over the curve of his ear, the tickle of Baekhyun’s hair against his neck, and instead tightens his grip on the undersides of Baekhyun’s thighs and adjusts the smaller boy’s positioning.
“I— I can walk by myself.”
Baekhyun’s words come out half-jumbled, almost unintelligible to Sehun’s ears if not for his abundant practice by now in deciphering the other boy’s drunken speech.
“What are you complaining for?” He chides teasingly. “I’m the one who’s doing all the work piggybacking you. You should be thanking me for the free ride. You’re not exactly the lightest.”
Sehun yelps as he receives a smack over the head, the smile coming unbidden to his face as he feels Baekhyun’s arms strengthen their hold over his shoulders nevertheless, the feel of Baekhyun’s lips against the skin of his neck sending a tingle down his spine, the slight coldness of the tip of Baekhyun’s nose.
“You shouldn’t talk to a god like that.” The pout evident in Baekhyun’s voice. “What if I decide to take revenge and curse you?”
“Forget cursing me.” Sehun laughs. “I’m more worried that you’ll trip over your own two feet and somehow end up in the hospital.”
Baekhyun whines in protest.
It takes Sehun another hour and a half to get back home and get Baekhyun into his own bed, the god half asleep as Sehun had helped Baekhyun change into pajamas. (The whole ordeal made wildly difficult by Baekhyun’s clinginess, seemingly increased when drunk.)
Sehun stares down fondly at Baekhyun, the other boy’s limbs splayed out to take up over half the area of the bed, mouth hanging open slightly, the quiet snoring, almost a low hum, cheeks flushed and ruddy from their night of drinking. He hesitates for a second before brushing Baekhyun’s hair to the side and pressing a kiss to his forehead.
“Goodnight, Baekhyun.”
Baekhyun is a walking disaster.
Sehun wishes he could say it’s an exaggeration.
But there’s nothing quite like living with a binbōgami, a God of Poverty.
Sehun chalks it up to his bad luck.
He had been looking for a new place to live in the city, close to his workplace, finding himself without a roommate as his best friend had finally decided to move in with his boyfriend.
An undesirable position to be sure. Chanyeol had been a good friend and an even better roommate, and Sehun hadn’t relished the idea of searching for someone new to live with.
His first encounter with Baekhyun had been odd...to say the least. (And it’s a stretch to even call it an encounter from the events that had unfolded.)
In hindsight, maybe he should have been more wary about the ad.
Looking for a Roommate!
He had to double take when seeing it, positive that the monthly rent had to be a mistake, an impossibly low amount for an apartment nestled in the heart of Seoul, by all accounts a relatively high-end neighborhood when he had looked up the listing.
But he had figured it wouldn’t hurt to reach out anyways, reasoning that he only had to be careful about avoiding a potential scam.
He would simply leave at the first sign of trouble.
Sehun should have known something was off the instant he had received an email from Baekhyun stating that he was free to visit and evaluate the apartment himself, detailing how Sehun could access the spare key. But he had brushed it off as Baekhyun perhaps having a busy schedule, no free time during the day to interview potential roommate candidates.
The apartment had been immaculate, sweeping views of the city from large wall to wall windows, a surprisingly neat living space, though the furniture had been arranged oddly, almost the entirety of things pushed up close to the walls, leaving a gaping empty space in the middle of the main room.
Much too good to pass up at the offered price.
So he had accepted without a second thought, signing the lease happily.
“Sehunnie, have you seen my ear buds?”
He looks up from where he’s cooking to see Baekhyun padding into the kitchen in an oversized t-shirt and boxers, toothbrush clamped in his mouth, his bedhead apparent, messy hair sticking up every which way. It’s not an uncommon sight, though it never fails to amuse him. The sight of a god wearing the clothes stolen from his wardrobe.
“Did you lose them again?”
Sehun sighs at Baekhyun’s sheepish nod.
“It’s fine. Maybe they’ll turn up later.” Sehun points to the top drawer with his chopsticks. “The extras I bought are in there.”
Baekhyun pouts, eyes bright with apology. “Sorry.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, it’s not your fault.”
“I’ll make it up to you.” Baekhyun brightens. “I’ll help you cook.”
“Wait, don’t—”
Too late, Sehun watches helplessly as Baekhyun eagerly tries to grab a knife, clearly intending to go for the cutting board, the last of the peppers still not diced, seeing the stumble coming before it happens, the flailing of Baekhyun’s hand and the clatter of the bowl hitting the ground, the bright flash of red.
Sehun hadn’t officially met Baekhyun in person until three days after moving all his things in. Just elusive, he figured, not wanting to assume anything about his new roommate. It had been slightly strange that Baekhyun hadn’t been at the apartment when Sehun first got settled, but he had written it off, too busy and too tired to dwell on it.
The sound of the doorbell, a surprising greeting from his new roommate.
In fact, he had almost mistaken Baekhyun for the delivery boy, having ordered late night fried chicken, popping open a can of beer after a long day.
He had opened the door to Baekhyun excitedly exclaiming, armful of packages piled high enough to nearly cover his face, only his eyes peeking out from the top.
“You must be Sehun. I’m Baek—”
Truly, the start of his woes.
They had spent the night at the hospital.
He had barely known what to do after Baekhyun had fallen, foot caught on the edge of the welcome mat that Sehun had brought along. And he had fretted the entire night, anxiously staying by Baekhyun’s side until the doctors had cleared him, an overwhelming concern for a boy he hardly knows.
A broken nose.
Baekhyun had been all too cheerful about it, brushing it off easily as just another-day-in-the-life-of-a-binbōgami, a claim that Sehun hadn’t believed in the slightest, at least not at first.
Four instances of being locked out due to forgotten house keys, an unfortunate accident with a phone surrendering after a dip in the toilet, two cases of setting off the fire alarm while cooking, and thirteen separate (witnessed) occasions of Baekhyun tripping over seemingly nothing.
All within the first week.
Needless to say, Sehun had come to terms quickly with the fact that Baekhyun, though certainly a god in his own right, was unfortunately what humans describe as “accident-prone”.
“You need to be more careful.”
Sehun hesitates, feeling Baekhyun’s stare boring a hole into him before grabbing Baekhyun’s hands, sucking at the thumb quickly before wrapping a bandaid over the cut, the Pororo design over the bright blue making Baekhyun seem even more childish.
He glances over to the kitchen at the mess, his red peppers littering the ground after Baekhyun had knocked over the bowl on the counter, sighing.
“You’ve been alive for an eternity, and you still can’t avoid such little accidents.” Sehun furrows his brow in concern. “What happens if I move out? What are you going to do then?”
Baekhyun visibly wilts under his gaze.
“You’re moving out?”
Baekhyun spends the rest of the day avoiding him.
Sehun doesn’t really blame him.
In all fairness, it isn’t a thought that has crossed his mind enough times to be taken seriously. Just...sometimes Sehun wishes that he wasn’t plagued by the specter of bad luck, the effect of Baekhyun’s misfortune rubbing off on him. Small moments when he can’t find his keys when he’s in a rush to go, misplaced until Baekhyun leaves the apartment for a longer time. Or when his perfectly made dinner somehow ends up on the ground the instant Baekhyun walks into the kitchen.
And, well, there’s the matter of the job offer.
Pros, closer to his parent’s home, a private office, a small pay raise, technically a step up from his current position in the company.
Cons, leaving the city.
(And Baekhyun.)
It’s a problem for another day, maybe tomorrow after work if Baekhyun stops ignoring him, Sehun decides.
“Baekhyun?”
It’s quiet as Sehun returns to the apartment, the god nowhere to be seen. Unusual to not see Baekhyun lounging somewhere on the couch with snacks, and Sehun quickly makes his way down the hallway to their bedrooms, not bothering to turn on the lights.
The door to Baekhyun’s room is closed, and Sehun pauses, thinking, before knocking.
“Baekhyun, you in there?”
All he receives is a groan in response and something half-resembling his name.
Baekhyun is huddled underneath the covers when Sehun peeks in, the only thing visible being his hair, and even from the door Sehun can tell Baekhyun is curled up in fetal position.
“You okay, Baekhyun?”
“—I’m fine.”
The fit of coughing prompts Sehun to sit down at the edge of the bed, gently tugging the blankets down so he can see Baekhyun’s face, the god’s eyes shiny with fever, the sweat beading on Baekhyun’s forehead, cheeks flushed.
Baekhyun feels warm to the touch, heated against the back of his hand.
“You’re not fine. You’re sick.” Sehun’s eyes widen. “How did this happen?” He tries to wrack his brain. “I’ve never seen you sick even once in the last year of living together. Can gods even get sick?”
Baekhyun’s only response is to tug the sheets back over his head, burrowing away.
“Baekhyun, you do realize that I’m going to stay here until I get an answer, right?”
He doesn’t catch the answer the first time.
“What?”
Baekhyun’s head pops back up from beneath the blankets.
“It’s because you said you’re going to move.” Baekhyun accuses, lower lip sticking out petulantly. “It’s all your fault.”
Bewildered with a dash of confusion.
“You’re sick because I’m moving?” Sehun shakes his head. “What does that have to do with anything?”
There’s a long silence from Baekhyun before the god gives in, the tension rushing out of Baekhyun’s shoulders, the explanation put forth in a small voice.
“Gods, like me, only get to stay and exist in the Near Shore, basically the human world, based on the strength of human wishes.” Baekhyun takes a breath. “That’s why some gods are more powerful, more humans give their respects to them because of what they offer.”
Baekhyun looks at him forlornly.
“—but no one ever wants to pay respects to a binbōgami, we’re bad luck, and no one wants us around.”
Sehun steadies Baekhyun as the god tries to pull himself up to a sitting position, leaning back against the pillows.
“—you’re the only human that’s wanted me around for a long time, Sehunnie.” Baekhyun fidgets nervously with the edge of the blanket. “And if you move and forget about me, I’ll probably not have enough power to stay here.”
“Sehunnie?”
“Well, it’s a good thing for you that I’m not moving then.” Sehun breathes out a breath that he doesn’t even realize he’s holding in, mind swirling, trying to wrap his head around everything Baekhyun’s just said.
“You’re not?”
It’s a half-screech, loud against his ears, and Sehun almost falls off the bed as Baekhyun throws himself at him, looking instantaneously less sick.
“No, of course not.”
“How could I possibly leave you behind?”
Sehun smiles as Baekhyun hugs him, speaking a mile a minute about everything they should go do together for the weekend.
Accidentally, utterly endearing.
His little god.