Chapter Text
The parking lot buzzed with the low hum of student chatter, car engines, and the occasional slam of a door. Life had moved on at the university.
But Baekhyun hadn't.
He stood near the edge of the lot, shoulders drawn in beneath a faded hoodie, the once-elegant posture of the Byun heir replaced with something smaller, more fragile. His fingers clutched a single photograph—creased from being held too tightly for too long.
Then he saw him.
Chanyeol stepped out of a sleek black car, tall and broad and unmistakable, the kind of presence that turned heads without trying. Fresh from two years abroad, he looked even more polished than Baekhyun remembered. Untouched. Unchanged.
Baekhyun felt his stomach twist.
This was it.
He crossed the lot on unsteady legs.
“Chanyeol.”
The name came out softer than he meant, but Chanyeol turned.
His brows drew together slightly as he took Baekhyun in, clearly not recognizing him. “Yeah?”
“It’s me,” Baekhyun said. “Baekhyun.”
A beat. Then another.
Chanyeol blinked once, and his eyes narrowed. “Byun Baekhyun?”
Baekhyun nodded.
Chanyeol let out a sharp laugh. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.”
“You look…” Chanyeol trailed off, eyes flicking over him again. Whatever he was thinking, he didn’t say it. “What do you want?”
Baekhyun hesitated, then extended the photo with a trembling hand.
“I have a son. He’s yours.”
For a second, there was silence. Then Chanyeol gave a tired, humorless smile. “Right. Of course he is.”
“I’m serious.”
“You and half the omegas on campus,” Chanyeol muttered, brushing past him.
Baekhyun followed. “I’m not lying. I wouldn’t come to you if I wasn’t sure.”
Chanyeol stopped, turning back with a hard expression.
“You think I haven’t heard this before? I come back to Korea and suddenly I’ve got three kids I didn’t know about. You’re not the first, Baekhyun.”
“But I’m telling the truth.”
Chanyeol’s gaze was sharp. Cold.
“I don’t sleep with male omegas.”
“You did,” Baekhyun said, voice barely holding together. “Two years ago. At Minseok’s party. You were drugged. I was drunk. We… It happened.”
Chanyeol stared at him for a long moment. Then his lips curled into something cruel.
“Let me guess. I’m the only person you’ve ever been with?”
Baekhyun nodded.
“Of course you’d say that.”
The words knocked the air out of him, but he stood firm.
“Just look,” he whispered, holding out the photo again. “Please.”
Chanyeol took it.
And then, without even a glance, he threw it back at Baekhyun.
The photo fluttered through the air, landing face-down on the ground.
Baekhyun’s breath hitched.
“I don’t fall for this kind of shit,” Chanyeol said, stepping back. “So if you’re looking for money, or attention, or whatever you think you’ll get from this—go find someone else.”
He turned, walking away without another glance.
Baekhyun knelt on the asphalt, fingers scrambling to pick up the photo. A tiny handprint was smudged in the corner, and a bright little smile beamed up at him from beneath a layer of dust.
He pressed it to his chest, blinking fast against the tears building in his eyes.
He hadn’t come for money. He hadn’t come for pity.
He had just hoped the father of his child might care.
But it was clear now—Chanyeol didn’t even believe the child was his.
And Baekhyun... Baekhyun had never felt so alone.