rustle | exo: bound for light

Bound for light
— Baekhyun/Suho, Baekhyun/Chen, some mentions of Baekhyun/Kyungsoo. NC-17. 26000+ words.
— Product integration means Joonmyun seamlessly weaving himself into Baekhyun's muddled life. The results are astounding.
— Written for

airplanewishes @

thebaekfest 2013! Originally posted HERE.! Many, many thanks to my ball of sunshine, Chels

spiel, for the handholding and basically helping me get through the whole fest, and to maknae

perfectiontales for spotting my godawful mistakes ;~~~; And of course, to

airplanewishes for the amazing prompts! I love you all ♥

"You're late."

Baekhyun smiles weakly and pushes back his sunglasses. The call time was an hour ago, but everyone knows nobody ever shows up on time for music video shoots. Save for the production crew, at least, but then that's to be expected. "I bought breakfast?" he offers, now grinning as brightly as he can, but six in the morning is an ungodly hour to be putting up a happy front. His smile falters, falls back into old habit — a toothy, awkward grin at a quarter past 6 a.m.. Jongdae will understand; he always does.

Jongdae grabs the paper bag from Baekhyun and sets it down on the table beside them. "Cute," he comments. All the sleep has departed Jongdae's voice; he's been awake for hours. "Good thing the rest still aren't here."

Baekhyun exhales loudly, then plops unceremoniously on the seat beside Jongdae. More than half a decade of consistently uploading videos on Youtube and nothing much has changed — the music makers still don't arrive on time, and Jongdae's still notorious for making them look like irresponsible adults.

"Where's Kyungsoo?" Baekhyun cranes his neck — the crew has begun setting up but Kyungsoo isn't there when he's usually the one busy making sure that the lighting's flattering enough for the three of them. Makes them look like real stars, not Youtube superstars — Kyungsoo is very meticulous, it makes Baekhyun cringe sometimes.

He narrows his eyes at Jongdae. Ah. "Grind isn't until eight, is it?"

Jongdae grins but doesn't meet him in the eye. He lays the food containers on the table. There's takeout tteokbokki and kimchi and a few chips here and there. "You know me well."

Well isn't the appropriate term when you've spent the last five years dancing around each other, straddling each other on the bed. It's an understatement, especially when Baekhyun spends half the day hard at the thought of pushing Jongdae against the wall of their makeshift recording room in Jongdae's apartment, skating fingers and nails on Jongdae's skin, and the other half hopping on the train to Bucheon and wishing it would go faster so he can do exactly all those things to Jongdae when he answers the door. Once, Jongdae had sent a flurry of sexts and Baekhyun was unable to hold it in and took a cab to Jongdae's flat right after a very important meeting. "Fuck you fuck your texts fuck me," was Baekhyun's greeting, and Jongdae grinned in reply, continued talking to his client over the phone, saying into the receiver, I sent the message tracks two hours ago. Baekhyun snarled, clicked his tongue. Three. But I'll be busy the whole afternoon so I won't be able to get back to you with revisions.

Jongdae fucked him with his fingers on the freshly washed bedsheets. Baekhyun returned the favor as soon as he felt his legs again. "You're going to pay for my laundry next week," Jongdae said, then curled up against Baekhyun. They were sticky and cuddling was ten times ickier after sex. Baekhyun flinched, maybe even shrieked in a low, low tone. He might have even shied away.

"I'm not your boyfriend," was Baekhyun's token reply. He chuckled. Jongdae wrapped his arms around Baekhyun's waist, nonetheless, and pulled him close. Baekhyun kinda liked it. Maybe he could get used to this.

"Of course. We're just friends. Really good friends."

Maybe not.

"Best friends," Baekhyun finished. Then, after a while, he chimed with Jongdae, "with benefits."

They both burst into laughter and never talked about it again.

So it isn't entirely surprising when Baekhyun presses his palms on Jongdae's shoulders. He looks around for an audience, not out of the fear to get caught but more out of habit, before climbing onto Jongdae's lap, sitting so he's facing Jongdae. Their new song is playing in the background. It's a ballad-pop hybrid and it's too vanilla for Baekhyun's taste. It's not the perfect make-out song, but it will do. Kyungsoo has the best sex voice, and Baekhyun won't deny he's gotten off to it a few times, imagining Kyungsoo singing while sucking him off.

Jongdae laughs, pokes him in his side, and cringes when Kyungsoo croons in the stereo. Maybe six in the morning isn't such a bad time to be doing this.

"He picked up the kids," Jongdae drops. Baekhyun's arms fall to his sides, but he's quick to recover.

"He's not the best driver in the morning." Baekhyun leans closer. Their noses bump, like he kind of wants to kiss Jongdae midway through his sentence and cancel the shoot, move it to another day. Today he wants Jongdae more than anything else, more than fame and fortune; but only for today. "We have time."

Ten minutes — Baekhyun thinks. They have ten minutes to get it on and get rowdy just behind the portalette before Kyungsoo arrives from rounding everyone up, fifteen minutes if they're lucky. They've done this before, during a five-minute break where Jongdae had been making all these sex sounds during recording. Kyungsoo thought it was uncalled for. Baekhyun's dick thought it was beautiful; he couldn't agree more. Jongdae's an expert at working him quick, but right now Jongdae's fingers are cold and stationary on his collarbones; it kind of makes Baekhyun uneasy and sick and weird.

"Really, now? Morning make-out session?"

Baekhyun's lips hover Jongdae's. Jongdae's not pushing him away; all is good. The poke earlier's a good sign, as well. "I thought that was your favorite?"

"Nope," Jongdae replies, then licks his lips. "You are."

A light chuckle, then, a panicked gasp from not too far away. Baekhyun looks over his shoulder and sits straight, then lets his arms fall to his sides, practiced and calculated. Standing a few feet from them is someone from the production crew, someone Baekhyun hasn't seen before. Possibly one of Kris' new workers or favorites — sometimes, he can't tell the difference.

"I was... hoping to show you the set and the lighting," says the crew member. "So we can still fix it if it's not to your liking."

Baekhyun gets up but settles back on Jongdae's lap, back now facing Jongdae's chest. He reaches for Jongdae's arms and wraps them around his waist, and he hears the hitch in Jongdae's breathing, the quick rise of the chest. Years ago, it would have felt weird, but he's way too comfortable with Jongdae now for anything to feel out of place, even a bit of intimacy in public. "Don't scare him," Jongdae whispers in his ear, recovering. Baekhyun laughs.

Nothing scares Baekhyun. He scares the shit out of everybody, though.

"Can't that wait for a few more minutes?"

The crew members smiles, polite and forced, but his eyes crinkle at the corners. Baekhyun feels a light tug at the pit of his stomach, like he's seen that smile before — in movies, home videos, photos in his school's yearbook, posters in a mall. His memory isn't the best but when he remembers, the image stays in his mind forever. Like that one time when Jongdae tucked him in bed after he passed out at a trade event, having had too much to drink. Jongdae helped him freshen up and changed his clothes and pressed soft lips on his forehead. "Stupid kid," Jongdae whispered. After a while, a choked, "I don't know why I like you." Then Jongdae's touch wavered, soft as a feather, fleeting like wind.

It hasn't been more than ten seconds since Baekhyun has seen this smile, but already it burns the back of his eyelids. He wants to pull at the corner of the lips and rip this person apart like he's hiding the world in the crevice of his smile. He wants to— "It can, but I'd rather you check it now so we'll have time to adjust as necessary," the crew member says. His smile quivers, but the crinkles in the corners of his eyes don't. "Then I won't have to disturb you again."

Baekhyun gulps hard. Chuckles. "I like this one."

The crew member gives a curt bow. "So, the lighting setup?"

Baekhyun lets out a sigh and slowly stands from where he is. He eases the creases on his shirt, taking as much time as he can. He can feel the man's eyes on his fingers, his face, and he shakes off the fear bubbling in his chest. He lets out a whistle as he follows the man to the set, casually slinging an arm around Jongdae's shoulder. If anything, he's longing for warmth. Jongdae's warm. The wind is cold. The man's stare is even colder.

The crew member's wearing a much brighter smile now — more sure, more confident, like Baekhyun and Jongdae will like the set up and won't ask to change anything at all.

Baekhyun takes a deep breath. He likes this one, indeed.

+

"I'm Kim Joonmyun and I... do cinematography on the side."

Baekhyun alternates between squinting at the display and at Joonmyun. He recalls talking to Kris over the phone about the treatment just a few days ago. Baekhyun had specifically requested for a warm, almost vintage kind of lighting; Kris was against it, but later yielded after Kyungsoo agreed with Baekhyun, saying, "It does make the scene more dramatic." Kris argued, saying that wasn't his forte and that drama wasn't in his vocabulary, you should go look for a different director, etcetera, etcetera.

Kris is on his way to the set; he's around five minutes away. Jongdae made sure to check. He's very particular with time.

"You did this?"

"Mhmm." The smile's at least an ounce more confident than the previous; Baekhyun quantifies everything through his own unit of measurement. "While you were busy."

Jongdae chokes. Kyungsoo's voice rings in the background, just inches behind them. "That's pretty amazing," Kyungsoo says, sliding an arm around the two, grabbing them by the shoulders. Another familiar warmth, gratification in the form of Kyungsoo supporting his opinion. "I see you haven't lost your touch," Kyungsoo adds, beaming brightly at Joonmyun. "And you know Kris can be very—"

"Particular." Kris waves at the crew, ruffles Kyungsoo's hair, gives Baekhyun and Jongdae a high-five. "About getting Joonmyun." Kris slips between Joonmyun and the camera, and Baekhyun can't tell which goes with Kris better — Joonmyun by his side, like a superhero and his sidekick being reunited except he isn't sure who's playing which role, or the elevation of the camera from the ground just enough that Kris can trace the contours of the lens while grinning, as if he's about to kiss a girl. "I've worked with him on a lot of projects. He's the best at what he does."

Joonmyun laughs a little, more relaxed, a bit cocky. He can sound mocking if he tries hard enough, Baekhyun thinks. "Only on the side, though," Joonmyun adds. He turns to Kris with a grin spread on his lips and a glimmer in his eyes, and Kris gives him one of those reassuring smiles that he hands out to first-time actors or stunt men who fall prey to Jongdae's weird ideas for their music videos.

Joonmyun hasn't done this before, or hasn't done this in a while. On the side, Baekhyun repeats in his head. Joonmyun mentioned it twice; it probably means something.

It takes ten seconds and, "Uh, guys, time's a ticking. Chop chop?" from Kyungsoo to get things rolling. The crew assume their positions and the hair and make-up crew rush to the singers, doing touch ups on their make up. Baekhyun moves the most but sweats the least, so he's a favorite. It doesn't take much for Baekhyun to win hearts — a well-timed, practiced wink, a bright smile, the light brushing of fingers against fingers. And, on certain occasions, a three-minute song — most girls fall for him less than a minute into it.

"Ready in ten?" he asks, looking around. Kyungsoo nods. Jongdae coughs but waves off the concerned look Baekhyun gives him.

Joonmyun gives him two thumbs up and a smug grin. He's glowing.

"Ready whenever you are."

+

Baekhyun would like to call himself a recording artist, but Youtube sensation suits him better.

He's been uploading acoustic covers of songs since 2008, but his videos never gained more than a couple thousand views until Kyungsoo started actively promoting Baekhyun's videos in his own channel. It had always been just him and his guitar and maybe a small group of people who were foolish enough to believe in him, and Kyungsoo was the first person to send him a private message on Youtube — one laden with smileys. Your Coldplay covers are amazing!!! :o I'm also doing a few... c: I hope you don't mind me linking yours? c: - dks Baekhyun's first instinct was to laugh and say, "Who even uses dicks as an online handle?"; his second was to double-check the message and fall off from his seat upon realizing that the Do Kyungsoo — internet celebrity famous for his collaborations with Sam Tsui and Alex Goot, famous for all the weird life hack videos, and some other absurd things — had just praised him and offered him a shot at being famous.

The real Do Kyungsoo, it seemed, wasn't as perky as online Do Kyungsoo. Baekhyun realized this when he met up with Kyungsoo over coffee for the very first time. "Sorry. Had to work overtime three days straight," Kyungsoo said, and he probably didn't have to — his eyebags were enough a testament to what he had gone through the past three days. Kyungsoo paid for the overly sweet, commercialized coffee and the train ride home; Baekhyun paid him back by taking him to his apartment despite Kyungsoo giving directions half-asleep. The weight of fatigue was so heavy that when Baekhyun finally managed to open the door to Kyungsoo's flat — and boy, was Kyungsoo's place huge — Kyungsoo pulled Baekhyun down with him to the floor and pulled him close for a hug.

"What the f—" Baekhyun mumbled, but Kyungsoo brushed his lips against Baekhyun's and retorted, without even batting an eyelash, "Carpet. Sleeping good. Sleep very good."

Kyungsoo woke up with sore limbs and a burning need for coffee, an even greater burning desire to kick Baekhyun out of his house but make him have breakfast first because that's what people do, don't they, when they're indebted to someone? Pay them back? With food or a touch or any form of human contact, arms around the waist and lips on lips, warm and wet?

So there's that.

Except it didn't stop there — not the meet ups over coffee or late night Skype singing sessions, spontaneous dinners that are half discussions on music and half laughing through the food stuffed in their mouths. Once, Kyungsoo picked him up at two in the morning, saying he had to render overtime at work to get things done. "I brought food," Kyungsoo added, then shoved a food container in Baekhyun's chest. Baekhyun's heartbeat skipped, doubled; it was too fast for him to keep up with. They were going too fast.

"You sound like my mom," Baekhyun said. He hung his head low and opened the food container — it was a homemade bento, and the egg cut-outs were cute. Kyungsoo was starting to become his mom, except he's a man, young, attractive. Had a really sexy singing voice. Gave the best handjobs in cramped (albeit public) places. The food looked good, but the sinking feeling in Baekhyun's stomach didn't bode well. He couldn't control it. He hated not being in control.

"I'm too young to be your mom."

"Step-mom," Baekhyun said; not-boyfriend, he wanted to say, but couldn't. Kyungsoo's cheeks were pink and his eyes were half-masked, tired. Baekhyun wanted to take him in his arms and nuzzle his chest and maybe plant a kiss there—

"Move," Kyungsoo replied, bumping his bony ass in Baekhyun's side. He settled on whatever space was left between Baekhyun and the door of the cab.

The trip to Baekhyun's flat was silent. Baekhyun wasn't sure if it was because Kyungsoo had passed out halfway through or if it was the distance between them talking. Bentos can't talk. Baekhyun couldn't talk so, instead, he lay a palm flat on Kyungsoo's hand, squeezing it briefly. Kyungsoo didn't stir, but choked up a snore.

Six months later, he met Jongdae through a forum; not more than three days after, Kyungsoo said over text, i see uv met jd :o. jelliz??, Baekhyun replied, then quickly sent a series of kekeke's after. Kyungsoo replied with a lol and a hey dinner tmr make sure you don't ot your ass off tonight.

pick me up at 8 :*, Baekhyun said.

not your bf sry :p see u in angguk-dong don't b late c;, Kyungsoo replied.

Kyungsoo had the not-boyfriend thing nailed really well, but Jongdae was the exact opposite. He was clingy, knew nothing about private space, always hovering and sending obscene texts at three in the afternoon. Baekhyun had grown accustomed to it after a while. He was even surprised when he stopped grimacing at Jongdae's texts adorned with hearts — "Hollow hearts," Jongdae said one time. "Because your heart is empty. You don't have a heart."

Baekhyun recalled laughing, couldn't remember if he choked on his own laughter. The fear of settling down didn't necessarily equate to heartless. He just... wasn't ready, probably wouldn't be for the next few years. He was at the prime of his life as a bachelor and he was enjoying every single bit of it, from occasionally flirting with Kyungsoo over text and Skype chats to letting Jongdae hold his hand from time to time, letting his heart leap at the sight of a soft smile on Jongdae's lips.

He wasn't heartless. His heart just didn't know how to react to things sometimes.

"Baekhyun," Jongin says, swiveling his chair to where Baekhyun is. Baekhyun minimizes the Skype window and pulls up a Powerpoint presentation, one that was supposed to be done ten minutes ago, suddenly too aware of his surroundings, the people around him, the lack of music. This is the office, this is work; it's not part of the job description to be completely enamoured with what he's doing. "Budget cut for laundry brands, specifically for the branded entertainment segment. They want us to reallocate the budget to digital."

"Who even talks about washing their clothes online?" Baekhyun retorts, complains. There are a lot of things to talk about online; detergents and fabric conditioners aren't part of the buzz words for the year. "Whatever. They'll insist we push digital in laundry, anyway. Let's do couponing and geo-targetting. I'll talk to client."

Jongin beams. It means, thanks for saving my ass and for saving me from having to talk to the clients. Baekhyun waves him off, smiling, then returns to what he's doing — absolutely nothing, even if he's supposed to be hitting the "send" button so he can officially call it a free day.

This is where he is years after: a couple of months away from releasing his third collaboration single with Kyungsoo and Jongdae, one step closer to being real recording artists, those who have signed under a famous label that won't drop them if they turn out to be flops. He's working a 9-to-whenever job as a communications planning manager at a media agency, and he's earning more than people his age and of the same position normally do; the Planner of the Year award he got two years back sure paid off. It's not easy trying to find a balance between work and play and work-play, but he manages. He's adaptable.

"Hey Baek," Minseok calls, sliding in the space between Baekhyun and the division between the cubicles. "Think you can sit in at another budget meeting for the next fiscal year?"

Baekhyun doesn't tear his eyes from the presentation he's doing. The closing slide is finally within reach. "If it's not for a laundry brand, I'm not attending. I've already made it clear—"

Minseok leans in, close enough that his lips brush the back of Baekhyun's ear lightly. Baekhyun takes a deep breath. Minseok is his boss. He isn't like Jongdae who has no concept of the limits of personal space (or maybe he does know, but purposely doesn't act like he does); he knows this well, because Minseok had slapped his hand away before, when he attempted to pull Minseok close for a hug following a successful pitch. "Minho just filed his resignation. I need a person who can oversee the media plans for the haircare brands for the time being," he says, and Baekhyun tries not to look over

Baekhyun looks up briefly, then turns his attention back to his laptop. "You've got the wrong person for the job."

"Baekhyun, please—"

"What gives?"

"A promotion." Minseok's pressed close, but not too close, still comfortable. Baekhyun shifts his seat and throws his head back into his chair, looking up at Minseok. "How does Associate Director for Digital Strategy sound?"

"Sounds like a shitton of work." Baekhyun makes sure to add a chuckle at the end; Minseok isn't as fun as he should be during work hours. "I'm not sure, Minseok. You know where my heart is."

Minseok takes a step back, then sits on the edge of Baekhyun's desk. There's silence for a while, and Baekhyun looks at Minseok closely, careful not to miss the details — the quirk of the lip, the dark circles becoming more prominent now more than ever, the hint of expectation and work-related rejection in the way Minseok eases his eyebrows. "Singing, I know. But— I need you in this team. Just a few more months. I won't try to convince you to take the promotion if you really don't want to."

"If you triple my salary, then I might reconsider."

Minseok punches him lightly on the cheek. "Noted. Now send me the report for the media spend on Project Crystal as soon as possible."

Baekhyun clicks the send button and grins at Minseok. "Done!"

Minseok walks away without another word and Baekhyun just watches — watches as Minseok's shoulders drop, the weight of too many responsibilities weighing down on him, watches as Minseok faces his laptop with resolution in his features and the promise of going down at 7 p.m. at the very latest, in the curl of his lips. Baekhyun takes a deep breath, fixes his eyes back on his screen, and wonders how long he can keep this up, this double-life.

He doesn't open the resignation letter that's been sitting in his hard drive for weeks.

+

He's still happy with his day job — he gets to utilize whatever he learned in university and gets to be creative from time to time, as far as numbers go. He's slated to be moved to the digital team in a few months, according to something he's heard not too long ago, but he knows very well that promises are meaningless in this company; he was promised his very own team three years ago, a digital planning team, and up until now he's the only one who strategizes for the digital business of the company. Empty promises, all of them.

He laughs gingerly, then punches out. It's a little past seven in the evening. He pulls the collar of his coat closer and shivers; where's the warmth when you need it the most?

Kyungsoo called earlier, asking to meet up so he can show the group what the production team has so far, and to get the books Jongdae borrowed months ago but didn't even touch once and for all. Kyungsoo finds them a quiet-enough samgyupsal place in Insadong that Kyungsoo deems as 'the best Seoul has to offer', and Jongdae just chuckles. Kyungsoo rarely ever disappoints, and he has the same taste as Baekhyun; they've got nothing to lose.

Jongdae takes the corner seat, and Baekhyun settles on the seat beside his. On instinct, Baekhyun places a hand on Jongdae's thigh and draws patterns on it — a smiley, clouds, a cat — and Jongdae keeps his eyes fixed on the menu, Kyungsoo's fingers pointing at his personal favorites.

"Sorry, I got a bit lost!" comes a slightly familiar voice. Baekhyun looks up and quickly retracts his hand when he sees the newcomer's face. If it's not reflex taking root in his body, then it must be habit. He's never been too good with dealing with changes, but rarely ever develops a fondness for boring staples.

He didn't invite Joonmyun. Nobody invited Joonmyun — or at least that's what he knows. Kyungsoo's supposed to let everybody know of any changes, after all.

"I went around the block at least thrice..." Joonmyun unwinds the scarf wrapped around his neck and hangs it loosely on his shoulders, instead, then bows at everyone. "I got a bit—"

"Lost. I know. Still not used to non-Gangnam places, huh? Your pretty car can't take you farther than your neighborhood?" Kyungsoo pats the space beside him and offers Joonmyun a smile, and Joonmyun frowns, albeit playful, in reply. "Narrowly avoided overtime work?"

Joonmyun exhales loudly, the dissatisfied sigh getting mangled in light chuckling. "Was I that obvious?"

Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow and nudges Joonmyun in his side — they're not strangers, but not the best of friends; Kyungsoo has never spoken to him about Joonmyun, but if Kyungsoo ever needs someone to listen, all he needs to do is to appear on Baekhyun's doorstep unannounced. "Oh, come on. It hasn't been that long," Kyungsoo argues. There's a light downward tug at the corner of his lips. "Five years, give or take? And then we worked on some—"

"Anything longer than a year is long," Joonmyun replies, the smile on his lips now tight at the corners.

Kyungsoo looks at Joonmyun in the eye briefly, then runs his hair as he tears his eyes from his seatmate. Baekhyun finds himself alternating between looking at Kyungsoo, then Joonmyun, then back at Kyungsoo until Jongdae slaps his thigh lightly. "Besides, I see that look a lot. Baekhyun uses it to bail himself out of being late 80% of the time."

"75%!" Baekhyun corrects. He reaches for Jongdae's hand under the table, but his fingers are cold and numb — from the chilly weather outside, from the intrusion. He can't even feel Jongdae's nails digging into his skin when Jongdae's grip on his hand tightens. "You work in media?"

"Events," Joonmyun replies. A low oooh escapes Jongdae's lips. "Close enough."

Baekhyun studies Joonmyun's face — perfect teeth, bright smile, and equally bright eyes — and nods thoughtfully. His mind goes back to their first encounter, and he almost laughs. Things probably would have been different if Joonmyun had been in advertising or media where people don't normally give a shit about how they'd react to people, save for when they're dealing with clients. Joonmyun would be an awkward fit, but something at the back of Baekhyun's mind tells him that Joonmyun will fit in soon enough.

"It's a miracle you're here," he comments, then cocks his head in Kyungsoo's direction. "Food's here!"

Joonmyun is, to say the very least, too accommodating. His eyebags speak of the hours of sleep that he has to catch up on, and Baekhyun feels a part of him break everytime Joonmyun sneaks a hand to rub his eyes. Joonmyun swallows back yawns that could have broken conversations, and replies with laughter, instead. When Joonmyun leans back in his chair and his eyes drop just a little, Baekhyun feels the urge to drop something on the table, like a weird comment on how Kyungsoo really won't get any taller if he keeps staying up until three in the morning, or just plain say that he's too old for this shit.

"So you're good with the sequence. This is just a draft of the final online, but the grading's good, right?" Joonmyun asks. He traces figures in the air, hovering the screen of Kyungsoo's laptop. "Skin tone's accurate, the whites are warmer than the usual as per Baekhyun's request—"

"Demanding," Jongdae comments. He lays a palm flat on Joonmyun's back as he inches closer. "I like the shadows going on here. It makes the whole scene more dramatic. Did Kris ask for that?"

"Ah, well..." Joonmyun pauses for a while, tapping his index finger lightly on the touchpad. "That was my idea. Kris does happy, lovey-dovey cinematography and directing better. It's not his—"

"— style," they all chime. Jongdae cackles. Joonmyun laughs out loud, unguarded. There still isn't any sound coming from Kyungsoo when he laughs hard. Baekhyun's fingers are still numb.

They finish just before twelve, before Jongdae can order another bottle of soju and talk about the very long story of how they came up with the new song and how Kyungsoo almost scrapped the whole thing in favor of something safer. "I brought my car," Joonmyun says, and Kyungsoo mentions he's parked just around the block and that it's probably better if he drops Jongdae off since he lives near Jongdae's place.

"And Jongdae's too drunk to function," Kyungsoo adds, a hand on the small of Jongdae's back to steady the latter. Jongdae giggles, then slides next to Baekhyun.

"Baekhyun?"

"I just moved to Gangnam." Baekhyun gulps. "And I promised to take this kid home, so..."

A soft oh slips from Joonmyun's lips and he quirks his mouth, furrows his eyebrows a little before replying with a smile. He bows to the group, thanks them for the company, and prepares to take his leave, but Kyungsoo insists to take Jongdae home, hooking an arm around Jongdae's shoulder.

"I'll take care of the kid," Kyungsoo says as he helps Jongdae stand on two feet. And then, to Baekhyun, "I'll text you when we get home."

Baekhyun raises an eyebrow at Kyungsoo, then slaps him on the butt. "I'm going with the Gangnam veteran, I guess."

It's a five-minute walk to the parking lot. Joonmyun's got his hands in his pockets, and Baekhyun stays close for warmth. "So, where exactly in Gangnam?" Joonmyun asks, pace falling in step with Baekhyun's.

Baekhyun looks ahead of him, the city lights piercing his eyes. He's had exactly twelve shots of soju and it's still a long way until he gets wasted for real, but his mind is buzzing and his hands are shaking and it's not even that cold. He's had copious amounts of alcohol; it's not supposed to be this cold.

He looks up at the sky, waiting for a sign, then looks at Joonmyun. "Home."

+

Midnight in Seoul is kind to drivers as much as it is to people wanting to get some rest. The intersections are the only enemy at this time of the day. Baekhyun looks around him, looks at Joonmyun for a few good seconds before Joonmyun skips a song and moves to the next track. Joonmyun is a perfect fit in his silver Sonata, Baekhyun thinks, and he knows, believes, that Joonmyun isn't your ordinary rank-and-file employee working a 9-to-6 job.

"Events, huh?" Baekhyun says, voice barely above a whisper. He half-intends Joonmyun to hear it, half-wishes Joonmyun doesn't, but the music is faint enough for his voice to come through loud and clear. They reach a red light and Joonmyun stops, switches to the first gear, looks ahead. 120 seconds until the light turns green. 120 seconds of Baekhyun wishing he kept his thoughts to himself.

"I own the company," Joonmyun says casually, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "And yes, Kris knows this. Kyungsoo does, too, I think."

"You think?"

Joonmyun chuckles. "I have a lot of secrets."

Sixty seconds into waiting for the light to turn green, Joonmyun turns up the music. It's comfortable enough for nighttime driving, comfortable enough that Baekhyun finds himself singing along, but not belting out notes. When he feels Joonmyun's eyes on him, he stops for a while. Joonmyun grins, gives him a look that probably says why did you stop?, so Baekhyun picks up from where the music currently is, eyes still fixed on Joonmyun.

The light turns green. Joonmyun steps on the gas and Baekhyun averts his gaze, fixes it on the flurry lights in front of them. John Legend croons in Joonmyun's sound system. Baekhyun keeps singing, looks at the expanse of space front of him, completely ignoring Joonmyun's occasional glances, somehow wishing Joonmyun could keep his eyes on him instead of on the road.

+

home!!! c: hope joonmyun didnt kill u. he nearly killed kris before but yeah, that's what kris said :c

lol he drives just fyn. mb kris is 2 old 2b riding a sonata

but he drives a benz doesnt he :o

xactly, 2 old for dem young cars kekeke

Baekhyun rolls over, lying flat on his back, and lays his phone face down on his bed. He asked for Joonmyun's number earlier. "In case I ever decide to go solo for real and I need a DOP," Baekhyun had said, and Joonmyun just laughed, shook his head, and took Baekhyun's number, keying in his contact details.

Joonmyun clicked the "call" button and grinned when his own phone sounded off. "Now I have yours."

It's been roughly ten minutes since he has sent his thank you message to Joonmyun. tnx 4 d ride, he typed at first, but decided that it was probably rude to use shortcuts when texting somebody he's just met, so he quickly erased the message and typed, thanks for the ride!!! :D have a safe trip home~ - byun baekhyun, instead. Ten minutes, he tells himself. That's the amount of time it takes Kyungsoo to shower without distractions, the amount of time Jongdae needs to recover from "really mind-blowing sex, you ass". It's also the most he and Kyungsoo have gone without a reply to each other's silly texts.

His phone sounds off, the soft sound of twinkling stars ringing bright in his ears. Jongdae describes it as the sound of bells; Kyungsoo says it's the sound of plates crashing.

hey! anytime (^___^)b - kjm

Baekhyun turns to lie on his stomach and burrows his face in his pillow. It's just a text with a cute smiley that's been obscure since the early 2000's. He bites the inside of his cheek, closes his eyes, restructures his face so that he isn't grinning or smiling with eyes shaped like half-moon crescents, or blushing.

It's just a stupid text. It's not even a call.

+

Baekhyun wakes up with an unfamiliar melody stuck in his head and hands itching to write a song.

He hasn't felt this in a while — two to three months, tops, since media review happens every quarter and it's that time of the year that wears him out the most. Normally, he'd be able to put off writing down an idea until he's done with his morning cup or coffee or at least until he's had an apple before heading to work, but today the idea nags him like a mother missing his child. The grandmother muse hasn't visited in a much longer time, so maybe this is why the idea is more demanding than the usual. Stupid artistic quirks.

He fishes for his phone from under his pillow and the first thing that greets him is Joonmyun's text — a new one, sent at around 2 a.m.. oh hey, hope you don't get a hangover tomorrow. (o___o) i mean you're friends with kris so... hahaha rest well! \(^___^)/ it reads. Baekhyun can't decide if two in the morning is too fucking early or late for cute emoticons. He can't decide if he wants to get off of his bed so he can write or just bury his face in the pillows again, either.

Fucking emoticons.

Baekhyun arrives at the office with a silly grin on his lips and breakfast in a box in tow. When he takes a seat, the first thing he does is to make a list of the things he should be doing today. In order of importance: align with his subordinates on any changes that have happened in the past three days, set a meeting with their client for the new budget allocation scheme, and talk to Minho and Minseok on the next steps leading to Minho's last day at work.

At the bottom of the list, in all caps and underlined twice: write the stupid song (and, in the smallest, most legible handwriting he can produce: reply to Joonmyun's text).

"Aren't you early," Minseok comments, then ruffles his hair. He glances at the digital clock — it's only 8:45, and regular work hours start at 9 a.m.. "Leaving early later?"

"Woke up on the right side of the bed," he replies. To Kyungsoo, he texts, wow so i woke up early and now im in d office? m lyk whats happening i got ass drunk-ish last nyt and wow

it's d joonmyun effect c;

He slams his phone on a notebook and exhales loudly. This isn't, by normal standards, normal at all, but then he's not the best judge of normalcy when he benefits from weird, rather dysfunctional friendships with Kyungsoo and Jongdae. Years ago he would have thought really long and hard about all the sudden changes in his life, like that time when he longed for a touch less impersonal than that of a client's or a boss', but not quite that of a part-time lover's. He was 25, ready to be committed, to get into a relationship. Maybe. Then, as if on cue, Jongdae happened — Jongdae, with his toothy grins and boisterous laughter and whiny voice, with his lingering touches and soft kisses and a penchant for using "the right words at the wrong time". If you keep texting me randomly, I'll start thinking you're slowly falling in love with me. Well, maybe not slowly. Hard and fast. You'd like that, yeah? Who even romanticizes texting at three in the afternoon, in the context of, hey jd, im so stressed i want 2 kill these clients?? nd skin them alive nd set them on fire? u in?

He shakes the thought away. His hand hovers his phone, then picks it up. He navigates to Joonmyun's message and types without much thought, kris drinks?

Joonmyun's reply comes faster than expected. Maybe he hasn't gone to bed yet. Maybe he doesn't like sleeping at all. kris isn't exactly the good boy everybody thinks he is (^___~)v

"Minseok, you free in fifteen minutes for a quick talk?" Baekhyun asks, voice a notch higher than the usual. Minseok just nods, mumbles, "Yeah, sure," without even looking at Baekhyun.

how would you know?

dude, we're friends. he always drinks with his friends. are you sure you're friends with him? o.o?

Going by Joonmyun's definition, they probably aren't. He'd gone out with Kris for dinner a few times in the past, when he was much younger and thought that tall guys were the best thing since sliced bread. Kris was generous with praises and corny jokes; Baekhyun laughed whenever needed because that was all that he could offer when Kris asked for more — a hug, a lingering touch, a kiss.

"If you're okay with not owning me—"

Kris gulped hard, squeezed his hand. It was summer and Baekhyun could make out the sweat on Kris' chest from the threadbare shirt. He took a deep breath. Kris wasn't supposed to still look attractive despite being turned down, and Baekhyun wasn't supposed to be feeling really bad about this. "It's not... I can't deal with that. I have to have you all to myself."

It sounded like one of those poorly-written romantic movies, so even before Baekhyun could imagine Kris running off into the sunset with tear-stained cheeks, he turned on his heel and mumbled. "And I can't deal with that. I'm sorry. We can't be friends."

So yes, Kris doesn't drink with his bunch. yup but probs not close enough for him to drink with us. Baekhyun hesitates before sending, but adds, our relationship is strictly professional.

so does you texting your new favorite cinematographer-cum-director count as not being professional? O___O hahaha! (^___^)v Joonmyun asks. Baekhyun rests his forehead on his table, closes his eyes.

He can't deal with this one, either.

+

no, Baekhyun replies after a while — more like three hours after, just before he goes down for lunch and sticks to his resolve to leave his phone in the office because he's charging it. Texting is safe. It's a common activity people normally engage in. It's impersonal enough for Baekhyun to deem himself as pathetic when he makes all these unintelligible sounds when he receives texts from Joonmyun — after that production house message, Joonmyun had sent two more related to video editing and cinematography. i don't think kyungsoo and jongdae are half as interested as you are in these things, Joonmyun said over text, without proper punctuation and smileys. It sounded stiff and not-Joonmyun, but then he's only known Joonmyun for a couple of days. He can't make a fair judgment of Joonmyun's character given limited information.

you mean you'll teach me how to do grading and stuff? :o kyungsoo's the one who usually sits with the editors during editing.

i know. i've worked with kyungsoo before. he just makes sure the singing parts are timed properly with the music. (^ - ~) but i think this song's special to you. and you were the one who asked for a particular color treatment so. \(^ o ^)/

you mean kyungsoo isn't particular with lighting and treatment???

(^___^)v

dks u ass i thot u put ur heart nd soul into r videos
what happened 2 master of d videos and d arts!!!
I THOT U WERE MY FRIEND T____T xoxo byun baekhyun

+

Garosugil is just a short walk from the office. It's not Baekhyun's favorite place in Seoul, but since he's moved to Gangnam to cut his travel time to the office by more than half, it's become a bit homier than neighboring places. Occasionally, he'd take a walk along the lane and gander at the young working class in business suits, all ripe with the thirst to earn more and earn a name for themselves, but on normal days he'd just hang out at Dunkin' Donuts, phone in one hand and the promise of seeing Kyungsoo at an obscene hour in the other. Kyungsoo's the only one he can drag out of the house at eleven, but everybody knows Kyungsoo lives in his office.

Tonight, though, he's standing in front of Cork for Turtle, Mug for Rabbit, waiting for Joonmyun.

Baekhyun isn't used to coming early, but at least Joonmyun isn't late. They'd agreed to meet at 7:15 and Joonmyun arrives at 7:20. "Parking," Joonmyun reasons out, and Baekhyun just shakes his head as he opens the door for the two of them.

"Any reason you chose this pla—" Baekhyun says, but quickly gets cut off by the sight of Joonmyun smiling at the servers and giving them a shy wave. "You're a regular here, aren't you? or—" He squints, then laughs a little. "Or maybe you own this place. Do you?" he whispers in Joonmyun's ear once the greetings have died down, as they make their way to the second floor. Joonmyun is silent, so he doesn't ask again.

After placing their orders, Joonmyun admits, "Yeah. I... own this place." A sip from his water, then an explanation, "Co-owned this place with Kris five years back, before he decided to focus on growing his production house."

"Lemme guess: he was planning to turn this into a bar, wasn't he?"

Joonmyun chuckles. It's not as cheerful as the smileys he uses in his texts, Baekhyun notes. He calls for the waitress and orders wasabi latte from downstairs, and Joonmyun lets out a strained sigh. It's good to know that his powers of introspection are still intact, comforting even. He hasn't gone out with anyone other than Jongdae and Kyungsoo in the past half year. There's Minseok and Jongin but when they do grab dinner outside, they only talk about work. And Jongin's rather tragic attempts at wooing Soojung, one of the connections planners in company.

"She said there's this man... Who's better. She said there's Sehun, that it's always been Sehun," Baekhyun remembers Jongin saying one time, when they all went out after a successful media review and after Jongin was shot down by Soojung. Jongin's eyes were welling up with tears and Minseok was teetering on the edge of being polite, trying to keep his giggles at bay. "She told me I wasn't the one for her and that maybe, if I just opened my eyes, everything would be clearer—"

Minseok burst into laughter and Baekhyun was crying and wheezing by the time Jongin understood what Soojung was trying to say. "Did she mean Sehun actually likes— That Sehun has this—"

Minseok fell off his chair. Everybody who heard about the story was told that it was the alcohol, that Minseok's motor skills cease to exist past four bottles of beer. Jongin actually fell for the story before Baekhyun reminded him about, "y'know, Sehun, that's he's always been the one—"

"Shut up, hyung."

Joonmyun's willing to talk again by the time the wasabi latte is served. Ten minutes, Baekhyun counts, because he loves numbers and finds joy in dealing with them. "I think I'm done with the video," Joonmyun says, eyes twinkling with something akin to — excitement, happiness, contentment? A sense of relief after not doing videos in a long, long while? "I can show you. Later, I mean? After we eat?"

Baekhyun laughs a little. After we eat is a promise to spend more hours together — he giggles at the thought, giggles in his mind, until the sound escapes his lips. "No rush," he replies. Joonmyun drums his fingers on the table to a rhythm neither of them hear, and Baekhyun gets the weirdest urge to reach out and rest a palm flat on Joonmyun's hand, trace figures on the back of it and maybe let his touch linger.

The food arrives. Joonmyun leans back, a small gasp escaping his lips. Baekhyun snatches it, stares at Joonmyun long enough to imprint the image in his memory for future use.

They talk about a lot of things — Baekhyun's boring job as someone who makes sense of numbers and data and tries to make the figures seem interesting to people, Joonmyun's aggressiveness when it comes to looking for more clients, taking on projects and looking for more events agents for his company, their shared fascination for color grading and making sure that the skin tone, despite any weird color treatment, stays true to real skin. A shared love for obscure musicians and singers.

"Landon Pigg?" Joonmyun asks. There's the same twinkle in his eyes, but Baekhyun identifies this as excitement this time around, like Joonmyun's challenging him, pushing him to think think think. You're a singer. You're supposed to know him. "You do know him, right?"

"Falling In Love In A Coffee Shop," Baekhyun replies. He doesn't even bother trying to hide the smug grin on his lips. "And Magnetism."

The smile on Joonmyun's lips blooms into something more, tugging hard but slow at the corners of his lips, the corners of his eyes. A touch of light burst here and the ever-reliable lens flare there. Joonmyun looks like something straight off of a movie scene, complete with dim lights, candlelight, and low-hanging globes in the background. Soft figures of empty wine bottles to his side, and Baekhyun's cup of coffee conveniently blocking his hands — pretty but strained — from the view.

Just a touch of pink and the image would be perfect, Baekhyun thinks. He stares at Joonmyun again, looks at him in the eye, lets his eyes linger on Joonmyun's lips. It takes no more than ten seconds for a flush to paint Joonmyun's cheeks — ah, perfect.

"The video," Joonmyun says out of the blue. His cheeks are still flush. Joonmyun didn't even order wine or alcohol. "I promised to show you the video," he rushes. He worries his lower lip.

"Ah, yeah." Baekhyun nods thoughtfully, smile tight-lipped. "You have it on your laptop, right?"

Joonmyun gestures at one of the servers and points at the dishes on their table. As soon as it's emptied, Joonmyun takes out his laptop, then moves closer to where Baekhyun is. Their shoulders bump. Baekhyun usually shies away upon contact with strangers, but a part of him, a part of his body knows Joonmyun well, like they've met before, years ago, maybe in a different time and place. Joonmyun seems like the type to believe in such stories, and Baekhyun's the type to indulge.

"Ready?" Joonmyun asks. The cursor hovers the play button. His hands are not more than six inches from Joonmyun's own, and if he wants to take this a step further then he can slide his left arm around Joonmyun's shoulder, tuck his chin there, casually move his right hand closer so that their hands touch. "Baekhyun, are you ready?" Joonmyun asks again, and Baekhyun furrows his eyebrows, squints, then nods.

He's not sure what to say just yet.

+

The video is mind-blowing.

Baekhyun takes a snapshot and quickly sends it to Kyungsoo. He's grateful Kyungsoo doesn't ask how he got a hold on the final online of the video, a bit disappointed that Kyungsoo didn't do exactly that. He doesn't share it with Jongdae because Jongdae catches on really quick, and will probably face him with a slew of questions any overly-invested friend will ask. Not-boyfriend, Baekhyun reiterates, and gives Joonmyun his best smile just before he alights Joonmyun's car.

"I really love your Sonata, by the way," Baekhyun comments. He rests his hands on the frame of the door, waiting for a reply following that bright, amused smile Joonmyun gives him. The light from the lamppost casts a warm glow on Joonmyun, balancing out the harsh white light of the car. Another movie scene, Baekhyun thinks. A new track plays on the stereo — Ben Rector.

"It's the prettiest among the higher-tier midsize sedans," Joonmyun replies. The light from the lamppost goes out. It's probably has motion sensors. "I'll... see you around again soon?"

"Soon," Baekhyun repeats. There's no point in setting up a meeting with Joonmyun when the video's already been submitted for final approval. He can attempt to come up with a new hit and seek Joonmyun's help for the music video or accept Joonmyun's offer of teaching him how professionals do music videos. He can ask Joonmyun out. He never asks people out. It's usually the other way around. Baekhyun loves the chase, somehow.

"Can I take you up on that video lessons offer?"

Joonmyun grins. "Of course."

Baekhyun closes the door, watches as Joonmyun adjusts his hands on the wheel before driving off. If he wore his glasses earlier, he probably would have caught the widespread smile on Joonmyun's lips, the crinkle in his eyes, his hands shaking on the steering wheel. But he doesn't wear his glasses past seven in the evening.

He turns around and walks closer to his unit's building, the smile still on his lips. His chest feels like its about to burst — with happiness, excitement, fear, the unknown. The light turns on again. Maybe it has emotion sensors.

+

Baekhyun has a habit of talking to himself when he's alone, in the shower. Tonight's spiel sounds a lot like this:

What's up with you? Hey, you, Byun Baekhyun, you're acting weird, like a fucking teenager. It's just a stupid text, he just likes wearing that stupid smile, and he just has pretty hands. He just looks like someone who has walked straight out of a book or a movie scene. He isn't any different from Jongdae, right, so why does he make you giggle? Or shut up without actually telling you to do so? What's wrong with you?

Baekhyun rests his forehead on the tiles on the wall. He hopes the sound of rushing water will drown out the voice in his head, but it's loud. Obnoxious. Exactly like him.

Get your act together, Baekhyun.

+

The workload's much more manageable these days, and 7 p.m. becomes Baekhyun's staple punch out time. Minseok's grown accustomed to Baekhyun coming in before nine in the morning that when Baekhyun sleeps in and arrives at 9:05, Minseok sends him at least three texts, asking if he's alive. or r u applying 4 a new job now is one of them, to which Baekhyun just laughs and, when he arrives at the office, shows to Minseok as he says, "Really, Minseok? Really?"

Minseok shrugs. "For all I know, you've been auditioning for various singing contests or something all those days when you came in late—"

"You mean half the year."

Minseok frowns and waves him off. "Go away."

The bulk of Joonmyun's texts come in in the morning. He rarely ever sends texts in the afternoon, but resurfaces at night, just a little past six in the evening. Baekhyun doesn't see the message until after talking to Minseok about temporarily taking Minho's load when Minho resigns, but not about the promotion. dinner? the message reads. So soon, and without smileys. It hasn't even been a week since they last saw each other.

can we try a different place?

i was thinking of wine... and pizza?

"Trouble," Baekhyun mumbles. Jongin removes his headset on instinct and looks at him with curious eyes, mouths, But I already sent the report! Baekhyun dismisses him with a small smile and a wave of a hand, then fixes his eyes back on his phone, his shaking hands, the cursor blinking on the screen, prompting him to go, go for it. It's now or never.

7:15?

is 8 okay? i just... have to wrap something up.

8 is good :D

it's a date. (^ - ~)

Baekhyun lays his phone face down on the table and hangs his head low, covering the back of his head with his hands. When he finally feels his fingers again, he texts Kyungsoo, saying, i think im in trouble :( and waits for a plethora of panicked smileys from Kyungsoo, a display of concern with the screen of a mobile phone as a regulator.

wanna talk 2nyt?

not 2nyt. midnight? i hv sth

it's jm isnt it

Baekhyun laughs a little. Kyungsoo knows him too well.

gotcha c;

+

Dinner at Apartmento doesn't exactly paint an image of a friendly get-together in the evening, so Baekhyun keeps his hands in his pockets to be sure. It's the coldest day in Garosugil that he's experienced so far, after all. Even the lights and volume of people can't contribute to the warmth.

He moves his fingers inside his pockets, then fishes for his phone. 8:00 p.m. — Joonmyun should be here any minute.

A hand comes to rest on his shoulder and he jumps. Instinct tells him to assault the assailant, but a blanket of cold wraps around his fists, numbing his body. Joonmyun's grinning, laughing albeit faintly, and Baekhyun hangs his head low as Joonmyun's laughter grows louder, draws nearer as Joonmyun pulls him in for a quick hug. He can take action now, wrap his arms around Joonmyun in response and maybe put a distance between them for a while before pressing his lips on Joonmyun's for a kiss. He can stand still and freeze and leave Joonmyun wondering what the brief hug has done to him. He can push Joonmyun away. But he does none of these.

"You're the worst," he says, voice barely above a whisper, and lets Joonmyun unwrap his arms around him, lets Joonmyun's hands brush his own. Twelve inches between them, one action to cut the distance and get rid of it entirely. "You're treating me to dinner," is what Baekhyun says to ease his muscles, to even his breathing. Joonmyun doesn't take it easy on him.

"It's a date, remember? Of course I'm buying you dinner."

Joonmyun's smiling, eyes turning into those annoying little diacritical marks and lips curving up. Fucking smileys, fucking smiles.

The place is cozier than Cork for Turtle, but maybe it's because of the wooden fixtures and much more laid-back (drunk) crowd. Joonmyun blends in quite well, a glass of wine in one hand and the other stretched to his side, lining the back rest, laughter bubbling on his lips every so often. He's slumped in his seat for most part of the dinner, when he talks about Kris' perennial alcohol problems and how the agency's recruitment efforts are unfolding. "We got two new people — one is hyper and the other is weird. They're both Chinese," Joonmyun says. His eyes are glimmering again; he's excitable.

Joonmyun rests the wine glass on the table and leans forward, propping his hands under his chin. "So what brings you here, Byun-ssi?" he asks. Baekhyun catches the lilt in Joonmyun's voice, plays it in his mind again and again, like a broken track. Byun rolls off of his tongue so nicely when coupled with alcohol. Joonmyun's drunk; maybe he is, too, but he hasn't even sipped his wine.

"You," Baekhyun says unceremoniously. His heartbeat's racing, like he's running away from something or running towards something — on both accounts, it's Joonmyun. At least right now it is, because Joonmyun's lips part just slightly, forming a tiny 'o'. Baekhyun accidentally slams his foot into a leg of the table.

It normally takes him months before he can be blunt and upfront with people. It took him three months with Kyungsoo, four with Jongdae, a bit shorter with Minseok, but then they're dealing with data and figures and it's work, just work. Only three months into his friendship with Kyungsoo was he able to tell the latter that he freaked the fuck out of him sometimes, and that he was moody and unreadable. "It doesn't take much to read me, though," Baekhyun remembers Kyungsoo saying. "I'm not write-protected."

Baekhyun didn't know whether or not Kyungsoo was kidding. He played along, anyway, saying, "You're not plug and play, though."

"Right-click, folder options, then view hidden files." Kyungsoo winked at the end of his statement. Tried to, at least, because it looked as if he was blinking more than anything else. "Use the right keywords and you'll find what you're looking for."

Baekhyun gulps hard and opens his eyes. The lights, albeit dim, sting a little. "You... were the one who invited me here," Baekhyun rushes when he finds his words. "So you tell me why I'm supposed to be here."

Joonmyun smiles, gestures at Baekhyun's drink, gestures for him to take a sip. "Do you have anything else planned for tonight? I can... teach you. How to do grading, I mean, but I left my laptop in the car—"

"You came from an event before going here?"

Joonmyun chuckles. "You caught me."

Joonmyun's drunk — with the thrill of a successful event, vindication from clients, the cool breeze in Garosugil, with cocktails and wine whose name Baekhyun can't even pronounce. Carefully, he reaches for the bottle of wine and draws it closer to his side of the table. "You're drunk," he tells Joonmyun. Joonmyun pouts. "You're really drunk."

"Drunk but not wasted. I can still drive."

"Drunk, just the same." He takes half a slice of pizza, rolls it up, and stuffs it in Joonmyun's mouth even before Joonmyun can retort. "Stop drinking and just eat. I'll finish this."

"The event was a flop," Joonmyun confesses after a while, wiping the corners of his lips with his thumb. Baekhyun only takes a sharp breath but doesn't gasp, keeps his lips pressed thinly together. "Well, not a flop, but the clients were disappointed. They were expecting more guests, better reviews. In hindsight, I shouldn't have accepted the project. We're short on people."

"The idea was probably too ambitious, to begin with."

"But I told them we could do it. I believed we did, until my people started leaving one by one."

Baekhyun contemplates on asking why, but Joonmyun hangs his head low. His breathing has evened out, and there's a ghost of a smile on his lips. Baekhyun quietly slips beside him and puts an arm around his shoulder. He's not the warmest of people, but he's had a bit of alcohol so this might do, he supposes. Joonmyun rests his head on his shoulder, looks up. Joonmyun's hair is soft, Baekhyun notes. It tickles.

"I'm sorry for dragging you here for a drama session." The stench of defeat is thick in Joonmyun's breath. It's a bad mix of wine and possibly gin and bad decisions. "Kris would've scolded me if he found out about this."

"Other friends?"

"Chanyeol's busy with the Chinese recruits." Joonmyun scoffs. "He's already troubled enough as it is."

"And I'm not?"

Joonmyun smiles at him, warm with a hint of relief at the corners. "You'll manage. I know you will."

You talk as if you know me, Baekhyun wants to say, and Joonmyun probably does. They're alike in more ways than one — outgoing, but comfortable with only a handful of people, hardworking to the point of being a workaholic, harboring a burning hatred for afternoons and the cool breeze blowing down Garosugil but not denying their penchant for taking walks along the lane, nonetheless. Each with their own secrets — Joonmyun and his unknown businesses, an unspoken past with Kris and an unexplained deep understanding of Kyungsoo, a multitude of side-interests, and a work he isn't exactly passionate with. Baekhyun and his affinity for Joonmyun.

"I think you should turn over that events agency to someone you trust," Baekhyun comments offhand, and Joonmyun just looks at him with wide eyes, a question written on the back of his eyelids. "And pursue your passion by doing video editing. A studio of your own," Baekhyun continues.

Joonmyun moves closer, nuzzles Baekhyun's neck. Baekhyun's done with his second glass of wine. If he ever does anything stupid tonight, he can always blame the alcohol and the alcohol won't fight back.

+

Baekhyun drives Joonmyun's Sonata to his building. He can't take chances — Joonmyun's not the nicest of people when he's had too much to drink, and he's not exactly the most independent, either, wailing for help everytime he feels like throwing up or latching onto Baekhyun when he loses his balance. "Can you just come over," he tells Kyungsoo over the phone, and Kyungsoo just laughs into the receiver before ending the call.

"So this is what's keeping you preoccupied?" Kyungsoo gestures at Joonmyun's sleeping figure on the couch, knees drawn so close to his chest, all balled up. He looks like a kid struggling to keep himself warm, but then the heater's turned on; the temperature's supposed to be just right.

Baekhyun slaps Kyungsoo on the butt and ushers him to his room.

It's been a while since they've last been here together. "The day you told me you were confused with your feelings for Jongdae," Kyungsoo comments, gaze fixed on the view outside the window. "That was when you last let me in here."

Baekhyun collapses on his bed, flat on his back. "I didn't want to take chances. I wanted to make sure—"

"That I approve of him?" Kyungsoo laughs, then climbs on the bed, lying down beside Baekhyun. "Of course, I do. I always did. The moment you held his hand in public for five seconds, I knew he'd be good for you."

Baekhyun clasps his hands over his stomach. "Guess you can be wrong sometimes. Jongdae's loud."

"Obnoxious."

Baekhyun snorts. "Clingy. Not the Kyungsoo kind of clingy but, yeah."

Kyungsoo turns to lie on his side, now facing Baekhyun. "What is that even supposed to mean?"

"That you're Kyungsoo," Baekhyun replies. My Kyungsoo, he remembers saying years ago, in the same room, except Kyungsoo had his back against the headboard and they were both naked and Baekhyun had his lips wrapped around Kyungsoo's dick. Baekhyun saw Jongdae with another guy who turned out to be Kyungsoo's officemate — Huang Zitao — saw them grinding against each other in a trade event. Jongdae spotted him from a few meters away, but tore his gaze from Baekhyun. Baekhyun called Kyungsoo and told Kyungsoo to pick him up and that he needed a favor. Twenty minutes later, Kyungsoo had his fingers entangled in Baekhyun's hair. In the morning, Kyungsoo didn't cook breakfast; Baekhyun paid for the hefty meal they had near Kyungsoo's office and whispered, thanks for the save. The whole story still makes Baekhyun laugh and wonder how Kyungsoo has been able to live with a friend like him. "Do Kyungsoo, my best friend, who's just the right amount of clingy," Baekhyun then adds.

Kyungsoo's grinning. Baekhyun scoffs a little, then whispers, "Probably."

Kyungsoo punches Baekyun's arm lightly. "That would have been a pain to admit years back."

Baekhyun looks at the ceiling, the glow-in-the-dark stars tacked to it, the tips of his toenails, Kyungsoo lying beside him. He's drunk and heart versus head has never been a fair battle, but tonight he proves himself wrong by keeping his hands to himself, keeping his lips pressed together, only parting them slightly when he has something to say. "I think I like him," he says after a while, and Kyungsoo only replies with a grunt and ruffles his hair. Baekhyun sinks into the touch.

"I know."

+

Realization feels a lot like a sore back and headache at six in the morning. Baekhyun rolls over so he's lying flat on his stomach, and grunts when he realizes he's on the floor. He's wearing his pajamas, though; maybe this is Kyungsoo's way of saying, if you're going to get ass drunk then at least try to keep still while sleeping.

Kyungsoo's body takes up less than half of the bed, but Baekhyun presses close, anyway, slipping his arms around Kyungsoo's waist. Kyungsoo kicks his legs, mumbling, "Go away," but calms down after a while. The best way to pacify Kyungsoo, Baekhyun has learned from experience, is to hug him from behind. He's defenseless this way.

"I don't have enough money for takeout," Baekhyun mumbles in Kyungsoo's ear. Another series of grunts, then Kyungsoo gets up — he's wearing one of the shirts Baekhyun hasn't worn in months.

"Make yourself useful and make coffee." Kyungsoo rubs his eyes. On mornings, Kyungsoo looks more lethal, like he could actually kill someone just by staring at them, extracting their souls, but Baekhyun knows all too well that Kyungsoo's easiest to please and to make happy in the morning. After he's had coffee, at least.

Baekhyun raises his hand, fingers spread, and calls, "Five more minutes."

Joonmyun's still asleep on the couch, but he's wearing Baekhyun's clothes now. There's a pillow propped under his head and his trenchcoat from last night is draped all over his body. Baekhyun walks closer, slowly, each step calculated. In ten seconds and six big steps, he can reach the couch where Joonmyun is. Three seconds to crouch low, then two to brush the stray strands away from Joonmyun's face. Five seconds to lean in, press his lips softly on Joonmyun's forehead and whisper, "Stupid kid."

"He's a year older than you," comes Kyungsoo's comment from behind. Baekhyun freezes. Even from a foot away, the allure of Joonmyun's lips is still strong. He has to fight it. "He looks really young, though."

"Shoo. Make breakfast. Soft scramble for my eggs."

"I'll take your eggs and crush them," Kyungsoo says, then disappears into the kitchen.

The memory of last night's conversation with Kyungsoo is still fresh in his mind. All the missed chances and opportunities, the past Baekhyun will never return to, the present he's dealing with, and the imminent and looming future. He's never openly admitted his feelings for anyone to anyone. When he was falling for Jongdae, he only ever told Kyungsoo, "I don't know what's happening to me." He has the ability to draw attention to himself so he can drive people's attention away from the thoughts at the back of his head, silly confessions of a highschool kid in love.

Kyungsoo has a habit of finishing sentences. Baekhyun remembers raising his hand in front of Kyungsoo even before Kyungsoo can come up with a retort. "Don't say it. I'm not ready to hear it. It has to come from me," Baekhyun recalls himself saying. Realization takes time.

Joonmyun begins to uncurl himself, and Baekhyun falls on the floor. Thank God for carpets.

Joonmyun blinks twice, long and with a two-second interval, then looks around him. He furrows his eyebrows when he meets Baekhyun's eyes. "What time is it?" he asks, then slowly stretches on the couch, the coat falling off completely and falling into Baekhyun's arms.

"Time to take a bath so you can wash away the stink of alcohol." Baekhyun folds the coat, tosses it on the small couch nearby, and grabs Joonmyun by the arm, helping Joonmyun steady himself. "Come on, get up, get up."

By the time breakfast is ready, Joonmyun is already drying his hair. He's wearing the red polo shirt Baekhyun had handed him earlier and last night's jeans. Sometime between Baekhyun's realization last night and waking up on the floor this morning, Kyungsoo bought disposable undies. He'd snatched one for himself, saying, "Can't be assed to go home before going to work," and gave the remaining two to Joonmyun. "I hope my memory didn't fail me. You're a small, right?" Kyungsoo whispered. Joonmyun just laughed lightly.

Joonmyun doesn't look hungover for someone who's had too much alcohol and passed out on a stranger's couch. "Thanks for last night, by the way," Joonmyun mumbles, eyes fixed on his feet. His bangs fall on his eyes; he makes no effort to brush them away.

"Just... one question." Baekhyun keeps his eyes fixed on Joonmyun. "Why me?"

Baekhyun hears the clinking of cutlery in the kitchen. Joonmyun looks up, finally meets him in the eye, and now Baekhyun can see traces of last night in Joonmyun's eyes. There are dark circles and a small pimple on Joonmyun's left cheek burning a bright red. It probably stings, but not as much as Joonmyun's headache should. Not as much as his eyes should.

"I have this thing with... inviting strangers for a drink when I'm depressed." Embarassed laughter slips from Joonmyun's lips. "I know my friends will judge me for my stupid mistakes that's why when I go out to get ass drunk, I always go out with strangers."

"But—" I'm more than that, right? "I'm not exactly a stranger. I mean—" Baekhyun averts his gaze. Caught in a sticky situation, he normally bursts into laughter and changes the topic, talks about something stupid. Kyungsoo's tragic hairstyle when he was just starting out in an advertising agency or Jongdae's penchant for wearing (atrocious) baggy jeans. Falling on his butt in front of his crush back in high school. "I mean, we know each other from work and we've had dinner a few times and—"

"Ah." Joonmyun smiles. "Well then, I guess I miscalculated. So I can't ask you out on a depressing drunken date anymore, huh?"

Baekhyun looks up, looks back at Joonmyun. The sunlight is warm and flattering, breathes color and life into Joonmyun's unmade up face. They're both smiling — Baekhyun can feel the strong pull on the corners of his lips, can see Joonmyun flashing pearly white teeth at him, can hear Kyungsoo's footsteps growing louder, then fading back into the distance. Not-stranger, Baekhyun whispers in his mind, so faint he might even miss it, again and again until he can hear his voice clearly. Not-stranger.

He gets up, extends a hand in Joonmyun's direction. Joonmyun takes it without hesitation.

+

The main reason why Baekhyun loathes holding meetings in the client's office is the lack of proper communication lines. Everybody's too caught up in their own world, in their work, to even actually listen to what's being reported in meeting. That, and the internet — both of the wi-fi and mobile variety — in meetings rooms is as good as nonexistent. Helps people focus, Baekhyun remembers one of the media managers saying; trust clients to be the first to violate their own rules by typing media reports during meetings, figures of spreadsheets reflected on their eyeglasses.

"They call themselves the biggest FMCG company—" Minseok says through gritted teeth, breathing heavy and ragged. "—and yet they don't have money to buy routers for the meeting rooms? Even cables? Oh, don't even get me started on the budget cuts across the entire portfolio—"

Baekhyun's phone sounds off — a KKT alert from his chat group with Kyungsoo and Jongdae. mv's out NOWWWWWW :D :D :D it says, and Baekhyun doesn't even have to see the icon of the chat member to know that it's Kyungsoo.

how many views so far? m on mobile just came frm a mtg

eew u came :||| 178342 so far. in 2 hrs OH YEAH

hey jd say sth

w o w!! :o didn't we reach 100k in 1.5 hours before??

"Our new video just dropped," Baekhyun whispers in Minseok's ear. The disgruntled look on Minseok's face eases a bit, but it's still there, making Minseok look at least five years older. "Wanna watch? I can drive your car back to the office."

Minseok hands Baekhyun his car key in exchange for Baekhyun's phone, still grumbling about the poor fate they suffered just moments ago.

Two more beeps, but one is a generic notification. u ass, Kyungsoo tells Jongdae on KKT. Baekhyun pulls down the notifications pane and smiles when he sees Joonmyun's name in bold font.

hey, congratulations! 200k views right now! hasn't even been half a day \(^ o ^)/

we owe it to you ;)

is that an invitation? (^ - ~)

Possibly, he says in his head, and one given on very short notice, at that. Baekhyun's got their routine memorized by now — they're probably going to meet at eight in the evening in Garosugil, but Joonmyun will arrive a bit late because finding a parking slot is such a chore. Joonmyun can be early, really, but organizing various events keeps Joonmyun unreachable nearly half the day. It works to Baekhyun's advantage, though; it helps him keep himself in check and reminds him that there are more important things to be done than to giggle at Joonmyun's texts and reply to them. There's a team to be led, a promotion waiting only for his yes, a thousand emails to reply to since he's been out the whole morning.

He can easily call whatever they'll be meeting up for a spontaneous date, but the word doesn't appear in his vocabulary often. Joonmyun uses it a lot, though, as often as he uses outdated smileys that make Baekhyun wish it's acceptable to be gushing over text messages at his age.

"Y'know, you just have to push the button to start the engine," Minseok says, eyes still glued on the screen of Baekhyun's phone, his free hand gesturing at the button near the steering wheel. "Is my car too high-tech for you?"

only if you're free ;), he replies. He tries hard not to grin. To Minseok, he answers, "I'm too high-tech for your car."

Baekhyun starts the engine and grips the steering wheel tight with his right hand, then lays his phone face down on his thigh when it sounds off — two beeps, both the generic notification sound. He tries hard to not think about Joonmyun's reply and fixes his mind on the drive to the office, Minseok's feedback, a calendar invite for an internal alignment at three in the afternoon.

He tries not to think about Joonmyun.

+

Joonmyun ends up bailing out on the dinner meet up, saying he's too old to be going out for dinner following a really rough and stressful day but, Baekhyun supposes, this is okay, too — Joonmyun's voice soft and rhythmic on the speakers of his phone, Joonmyun's laughter filling his living room, Joonmyun not having to see Baekhyun struggling to keep a straight face and to keep his emotions at bay.

"Go to bed. It's late," Joonmyun says, lethargy dripping from his voice. "Aren't you tired of me by now? We've been on the phone for hours."

"Aren't you tired of me yet?" Baekhyun replies. He can hear Joonmyun's bedsheets rustling on the other end of the line.

Soft giggling from Joonmyun, a loud exhale, then. "Nope. Never."

Baekhyun buries his face in his pillows. Never mind that Joonmyun can't see him grinning from ear to ear, or that Joonmyun won't know that he's stomping his feet and gurgling into the comforter. He grabs his phone, throws the covers over his head, and whispers into the receiver, "Good night."

Joonmyun breathes loudly. Baekhyun can hear him smiling. "Sweet dreams."

+

The first he hears from Jongdae in a long, long while is a distant cry for help through a text message.

The message isn't even from Jongdae — Kyungsoo's the one who sends it, complete with the timestamp and all. "I'd go to his place if I wasn't in a meeting," Kyungsoo says over the phone. His voice is faint, almost hushed, like he's hiding from someone. Baekhyun risks a glance at the wall clock — it's lunch time. Who even schedules meetings at such an hour? Ah, advertising and media agencies.

"I'll check on him," Baekhyun replies. He begins to save the worksheets he's working on, then makes his way to Minseok. "And stop worrying. He's alive. The worst that could happen is—"

"Him forgetting to eat for three days straight. Then collapsing on the floor and contemplating jumping off the building in exchange for social life and an office job that won't wear him out."

Baekhyun scrunches his nose. "Right."

When Baekhyun arrives at Jongdae's place, he finds Jongdae snoozing fitfully on the couch and Jongdae's phone beside a tower of pillows. His footsteps are light, measured, so he won't startle Jongdae. The worst that can happen is Jongdae getting a panic attack at the sudden appearance of another human being in front of him; the best is Jongdae giving him a lazy grin and mumbling, "I finally finished the goddamned script."

Twelve minutes, fifteen if Baekhyun isn't lucky and Jongdae's too tired to be assed to move — it will take exactly twelve minutes to make Baekhyun rouse to consciousness and somehow convince him to get up and eat something. Baekhyun crouches low and lays a palm on Jongdae's arm, squeezing it lightly. A strip of goosepimples shoots up his arm, down his neck; it's like treading foreign territory without even bothering to secure a visa or a return ticket. It's like a first meeting, or the first time Baekhyun ever picked up a guitar — it's frightening.

Jongdae stirs ten minutes into Baekhyun rubbing circles on his arm. Only a soft hey escapes his lips before he falls back to sleep. Ten more minutes does the trick, makes Jongdae bounce back to life with the enthusiasm of a five-year-old ageing backwards. Like Benjamin Button. But at least Jongdae's up now.

"I still don't understand why you wouldn't want to work in an agency again," Baekhyun says once they've finally arranged the food containers on the table in the living room. He takes some bean sprouts and gestures for Jongdae to open his mouth. Carefully, he slips the sprouts in, and Jongdae gives him a satisfied smile. "I mean, your freelance work is just as toxic as what you used to do back in Burnett—"

"Offices are dull and boring," Jongdae reasons out. He takes a strip of pork and lays it flat on the oregano leaf spread on his palm. "And I'm planning to take writing seriously. I actually have an idea! Oh, wait—"

Jongdae begins his narration, hands tucked under his thighs. He chokes midway through introducing the characters, talking about the lead's internal conflict. "But then he starts to make a choice to change careers," Jongdae says, and his voice grows louder, and he starts talking fast, hands caught up in all these elaborate gestures that make Baekhyun laugh a little. Jongdae's gripping the edge of his seat when he goes into the details of the plot twist, and there's the biggest grin breaking across his features, eyes bright and sparkling. Baekhyun hasn't seen this in weeks, months. He hasn't seen Jongdae in a while.

His phone sounds off and he quickly turns it over. did i leave my coat in your apartment? (>___<) Joonmyun asks. Baekhyun tries not to grin, types a quick reply that says, took you a week to realize that? lol.

what if i did that on purpose?

where are the smileys? And, after a while. did you tho?

i outgrew them. :p you tell me, byun baekhyun. what do you think? (^ - ~)

"But then the plot was beginning to sound boring in my head, so I thought: what if I put the story in an agency setting?" Jongdae asks through a mouthful of kimbap. His speech is garbled but the message cuts through as clear as day. "And translate all my agency woes into a story? I won't have a problem with making the setting as realistic as possible because — hey!"

stop playing games with me :|

Baekhyun looks up from his phone. There's a bit of kimchi hanging from the corner of Jongdae's lips. He reaches over, pushes the stray kimchi between Jongdae's lips, then grins. Jongdae's cheeks burn a bright red; it must be all the spices.

"Were you even listening?" Jongdae asks, a pout straining his lips.

"You were thinking of using the agency set up for your story. It's pretty novel," Baekhyun comments, voice steady and relaxed. His phone beeps again, this time fainter; he's just turned down the volume less than a minute ago. "I don't think anyone has done it before?"

"But you rarely ever read books." Jongdae frowns. Baekhyun picks up another piece of kimbap and poises it in front of Jongdae's lips. Ten seconds after and Jongdae still hasn't yielded, still hasn't opened up. He lays his phone face down on his thigh. This is different. The last time this happened was when Baekhyun had unceremoniously dropped off of the face of the Earth following his realization that he might be a bit too invested in Jongdae.

"And I think the book-jumping idea's better, to be honest. Just— Why would she want to switch careers? I mean, being a book detective is pretty cool. So she'll just give up because she can't find the first of the three sheep drawn for the prince?"

Jongdae slowly parts his lips and leans forward, taking the slice. He chews slowly; Baekhyun takes it as a sign to go on. "Because she feels she's a failure? She didn't even try hard enough."

"Define trying hard enough."

Baekhyun draws the tips of the chopsticks close to his lips and licks the remnants of kimchi. "Trying hard enough is asking my junior to move the internal alignment meeting to 8:30 a.m. tomorrow and travelling all the way to your flat with my laptop in tow." He takes a few pieces of kimchi, chews them slowly while keeping his eyes locked with Jongdae's. "I have to catch up on all the work I've missed because someone decided to stop answering Kyungsoo's calls and not eat for— How long has it been since you last ate a real meal?"

"Just two days," Jongdae mumbles. He stands from his seat, walks slowly to where Baekhyun is. This one Baekhyun recognizes from years back — Jongdae, unsure and uncertain, a bit afraid, teetering on the edge of their friendship, toeing the very fine line between— "I was really busy." Jongdae's fingers are cold and shaking, and it tickles when Jongdae traces the length of Baekhyun's jaw, his fingers eventually coming to rest on his lips. "I'm sorry."

Another beep. Baekhyun holds his breath and kisses Jongdae's fingers softly.
"It's okay. Now, finish your food."

Jongdae reaches over to get the containers and set them on Baekhyun's side of the table. He looks like a child who has just found his way home after wandering around in the dark for the longest time. Baekhyun hates taking care of people — the baggage people carry is unbearable; he can't even bear his own crosses half the time — but Jongdae isn't exactly someone who needs tender-loving care every single breathing moment of his life. Jongdae is both needy and independent, obnoxious yet charming, clingy but distant on his worst days. This one, Baekhyun thinks, is one of his best and his worst.

"You're full, right? So I can eat all of these?"

Baekhyun laughs, nods, and ruffles Jongdae's hair. Jongdae is Jongdae — there's no other explanation for this.

Not too long after, Baekhyun manages to convince Jongdae to take a shower before cuddling because dude, seriously, you smell. Jongdae doesn't buy it at first, but when a clump of hair falls over his eyes and he gets a whiff of it, he turns to Baekhyun with a lopsided grin and excuses himself for a shower. It takes an hour for Jongdae to wash off the stink of overwork and fatigue, and an hour for Baekhyun to restore Jongdae's living room to its former glory — pillow cases changed, boxes of takeout food properly disposed, Jongdae's work desk finally void of coffee cups and crumpled paper.

It's already five in the afternoon by the time Baekhyun's able to lull Jongdae to sleep. He drapes a blanket over Jongdae and turns the aircon up to Dry 24. He runs his fingers through Jongdae's hair before pressing a kiss on Jongdae's cheek, before whispering, "Silly kid."

Only when he's on his way to the subway station does he see the unread messages on his phone, both from Joonmyun.

then stop playing along. (^___^)
you free tonight for dinner? i need that coat. or i can pick it up from your place?

Baekhyun stops, stares, reads the messages at least three times before wiggling his fingers, ready to type a reply. Then an image of a sleeping Jongdae burns at the back of his eyelids — Jongdae and his steady, even breathing as he wiggles under the blanket, Jongdae nuzzling his palm when he checks if the pillows are thick enough to cushion Jongdae's heavy head, Jongdae's perpetually puckered lips, always inviting him in for a taste of trouble.

He takes a deep breath. Joonmyun just needs to get his coat back. It's not a date.

same time and place?

8pm good? crazy horse?

tough day? i thought you only drink with strangers.

lol i'm there for the music. and it doesn't count because my goal tonight is to get you drunk. (^ - ~)

Baekhyun glances at his laptop bag and heaves a sigh. Maybe he can catch up on all the missed emails in an hour before heading out for dinner and drinks, or maybe he can bail out of this citing work as an excuse. He's been named Employee of the Year for two consecutive years, after all; the excuse is believable and characteristic of him. Another message comes in and makes Baekhyun reconsider — holding onto his phone tightly or turning Joonmyun down, he can't tell.

or i can grab some takeout and just bring food to your place. friday isn't the day for oldies like us to be drinking in a bar.

"At least get out of the way if you're texting," comes a voice from behind, and only then does he realize that he's been standing in the middle of the staircase for quite some time already.

i'm good with pizza and beer :)

your wish is my command. \(^ o ^)/

+

Baekhyun isn't even halfway through all the emails he has missed when Joonmyun arrives. "You took the beer joke seriously? Really?" Baekhyun says, eyeing the bottles in the plastic, and Joonmyun just smiles at him, tight-lipped, eyes wide open. He waits for them to turn into slits, but it never comes. "Come in."

"Your place looks..." Joonmyun looks around, twists his torso as he does so. He's wearing a threadbare longsleeved top that bunches just below his waist when he moves too much, jeans hanging low on his pelvis. Baekhyun gulps hard. This is the most bare he's seen Joonmyun — Joonmyun almost always has a scarf wrapped around his neck, or a cardigan underneath his coat. Right now, he's at his most vulnerable.

Baekhyun can barely make out the faint marks wrapped around Joonmyun's waist — figures, numbers, maybe even words or letters. It's a band of cursive strokes. Something akin to the stem of a G-clef lines the side of the waist.

"It looks different in the evening," Joonmyun finishes. He raises the plastic bags in front of him, now beaming at Baekhyun. "Dinner?"

Joonmyun is a man of his word, Baekhyun soon discovers when Joonmyun sets the food on the table in the living room — pizza, chips, and kimchi. Two out of three are a perfect mate for liquor. Baekhyun adds a fourth, watches as Joonmyun throws his head back a little when he downs the contents of his first bottle, watches as Joonmyun licks his upper lip, tongue briefly disappearing behind the fold, but resurfacing to rest on his bottom lip.

He hears an Outlook notification behind him, a few feet away. "Your coat's in my room," Baekhyun says in a rush, then excuses himself, sets the bottle down before making his way to his room. It clinks with something on the table that he can't even identify, not with the sound. Joonmyun is unmoved, unrelenting; he's still and calm on the other side, uncapping another bottle, hands steady.

Baekhyun clenches and unclenches his fists. The game of self-control has never been easy.

The thing with being the one chased around is that it does wonders to your ego, makes you feel so damn good about yourself, like you've finished a gruelling race or won a gold medal in the Olympics. It's exhilarating, to an extent, to be seeing someone scrambling at his feet, eagerly waiting for an ounce of mercy in the guise of attention to drop from your lips, a small smile. Joonmyun isn't exactly the kind of guy's who's on a quest to make someone fall in love with him; he's just there, waiting, like he knows he'll get what he wants just by wanting it so badly. And he does get it, by hook or by crook, through a sweet smile or his subtle art of seduction. This, Baekhyun thinks, is the kind of game he wants to play — a mind-fucking mind game to see who can outdo the other the best, the longest.

The only problem is the unfamiliar feeling at the pit of his stomach, the stuttering voice at the back of his head, saying, what if I want something more out of this? What if—

"Baekhyun?" Joonmyun's voice rings in his ears, too loud that it makes him jump a little. Joonmyun's three feet away from the door and maybe Baekhyun's been clutching at the collar of the coat for more than a minute already. "Need help?"

Baekhyun can feel something stirring in his pants. How hard could it be to say, hey, think you can help me with this hard problem?, to be upfront, to lose, to be exposed in front of Joonmyun? All it takes is a hand curled at Joonmyun's nape, pulling him close for a kiss, a light nip at Joonmyun's ear, a tiny plea whispered againt Joonmyun's skin — Fuck me.

"I'm good," Baekhyun lies. He exits the room, closes the door behind him, and hands Joonmyun the coat. "And I didn't do anything to this. I was tempted to sell it for a good sum, though," he ends, laughing a bit. It comes out as dry laughter.

Joonmyun holds the coat by the sleeves. Baekhyun's supposed to let go now, but the pull of Joonmyun's gaze is strong. His lips tremble. Tension is thick and heavy, pushing his shoulders down, pushing him closer to Joonmyun. Five inches, Baekhyun thinks — five inches until their lips touch, until they cross the line from something to everything. Joonmyun's breath hitches. Baekhyun worries his lower lip, and Joonmyun's eyes are drawn to it.

He takes a step forward, hands dropping just above Joonmyun's own, Their foreheads bump and neither of them has spoken since Baekhyun's gotten out of the room, but somehow Baekhyun can hear a voice in the wind, one that sounds a lot like Joonmyun, saying, closer, come closer. If there's something that you want to know, lean closer—

The instrumentals of the triad's new song blares in the living room. Baekhyun takes a step back and takes in as much air as he can before turning around, mumbling, "Sorry, I need to get that." He almost drops his phone, but the name flashing on his screen makes him grip his phone tight. It's almost nine in the evening and Jongdae rarely ever makes the best calls at such an hour. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes before taking the call. "'Sup?"

I'm dying. Coughing, and then. Save meeee.

Joonmyun's caught up, looking at Baekhyun with curious eyes. He cocks his head a bit and Baekhyun mouths Jongdae, and Joonmyun just nods slowly. "You don't sound like you're dying. Try harder."

I've been coughing the whole day, dammit. I sound like an old frog. I'm sick and Kyungsoo's not picking up and—

"You called Kyungsoo first?" Baekhyun furrows his eyebrows a little. The acid lining his throat stings. "Doesn't matter. Do you have fever?"

A pause, then, Yeah, I think so. I need soup and tender-loving care, that's all.

"I'm not your—" Baekhyun looks up, looks at Joonmyun, but Joonmyun's busy cleaning up their mess now. "I'll be there in a while. Don't talk to strangers. Look through the peep hole before opening the door."

Thanks, babe.

"Whatever. Take care."

"Do you need to be somewhere else?" Joonmyun asks once Baekhyun ends the call. The pizza box has been sealed and the bottles of beer are all at the center of the table. The paper napkins they've used have been disposed. Joonmyun cleans up good and fast, and when Baekhyun tries to look for a trace of disappointment or frustration in Joonmyun's eyes, he sees nothing, feels nothing.

"Jongdae. He's..." Baekhyun worries his lower lip until the tang of blood lines on his tongue. "He's sick and he doesn't know how to take care of himself."

Joonmyun laughs briefly. "I can drive you there."

"What? No! That's too far away!" Baekhyun waves his hands in front of his chest, and Joonmyun just giggles. "He lives in Bucheon and we're in Gangnam and—"

"And I can't bear the thought of you passing out in the bus or the train on your way to Bucheon." Joonmyun feels for his keys in his pocket, then slips an arm around Baekhyun's shoulder. He's not drunk enough for this. "Come on, I'll take you there."

+

"Oh, hey— Hi, Joonmyun."

Jongdae's all bundled up when he answers the door, eyes sullen and lips swollen. He sniffles before turning to Baekhyun and scrunching his nose, and Baekhyun just ruffles his hair before slipping inside. The apartment is darker than the usual. Only three lights are on — the desk lamp near the couch, the point light along the aisle leading to the bathroom, and the other leading to the bedroom. It's cold, unwelcoming.

"What's your temperature," Baekhyun calls out, already making his way to the kitchen. He looks around him until he finds Jongdae still near the door, and Joonmyun trapped on the other side of the doorstep. "Have you taken medicine since you called me?"

"I'm not good with those things," Jongdae replies. He's finally taken a side step, and Joonmyun slips past him quietly, a small smile on his lips. "It's usually Kyungsoo who makes me take medicine."

Baekhyun exhales loudly and makes a mental note to call Kyungsoo later. It's unlike Kyungsoo to not be answering calls — he's probably rendering overtime work or his phone has run out of battery but he doesn't have time to charge it. He can be driving, too, but Kyungsoo's good at multi-tasking. Baekhyun fishes his phone from his pocket, types a message to Kyungsoo — hey dude u alive? dont worry abt jd, jm and i r taking care of him

"Excuse me, Jongdae, but—" Baekhyun quickly turns around and finds Joonmyun beside Jongdae, a palm flat on Jongdae's forehead. "Ah, that fever's pretty nasty. Rest on the couch. Where do you keep your medicine?"

Jongdae shrugs. "Medicine cabinet in the bathroom?"

"Right. Got it." Joonmyun nods, then turns to look at Baekhyun. "Turn off the aircon and turn on the heater. Prepare a warm towel, put it on his head. Keep an eye on him."

Baekhyun doesn't even realize he's held his breath all this time. He nods fervently and replies, faintly, "Yup. Got it."

Baekhyun follows Joonmyun's instructions to the very last detail and remains by Jongdae's side, making sure Jongdae doesn't move around too much. Jongdae's always listless, not to be tamed; even when he was hospitalized for pneumonia a couple of years back, he'd still not been the one to be held back by his sickness. Baekhyun reaches to feel Jongdae's forehead, and gasps a bit when the heat seeps into his skin — a nasty fever, indeed.

Joonmyun reappears not too long after, a whole pack of paracetamol in one hand an a glass of warm water in the other. Baekhyun watches, gapes as Joonmyun helps Jongdae get up, a hand on the back of his neck as Jongdae struggles, gulps hard when Joonmyun pops a tablet from the pack and pops it in Jongdae's mouth. "Drink up," Joonmyun says, a small smile surfacing on his lips. Jongdae cooes a little as Joonmyun pats his head.

"Now rest. We'll stay here until your fever breaks."

"We?" Baekhyun repeats, choking. His voice drops to a whisper when he moves closer to say, "You don't have to stay if you don't want to."

Jongdae looks up, turning to Joonmyun with a bright smile. "You can stay, if you want."

Joonmyun laughs a little, then looks over his shoulder to shoot a glance at Baekhyun. "You don't seem the type to know how to take care of people. So relax. I'll take care of him."

Joonmyun turns to face Jongdae again, and Baekhyun just slumps against the table beside the couch, eyes fixed on nothing but Joonmyun — his hands, the way he purses his lips when he checks the thermometer and Jongdae's fever hasn't gone down by much, the way he rests his forehead briefly on his clasped hands, then bounces back to life with a renewed energy and determination to break Jongdae's fever. I didn't ask for this, a voice at the back of Baekhyun's mind says, and he chokes back every word threatening to drop from his lips, ready to break free from his chest and bark at Joonmyun so loud, it would probably wake Jongdae up.

+

Joonmyun looks over his shoulder. The lines on his forehead are gone, but his eyebags are more pronounced than ever. Baekhyun wants to reach out, nonetheless, and ease the faint lines on the forehead with his thumbs, to offer a small source of comfort and relief. "36.3," Joonmyun says, voice so soft Baekhyun can mistake it for breathing, then cards his fingers through Jongdae's hair. "Does he get sick a lot?"

Baekhyun shakes his head lightly. "Nope, not really, but he does have scheduled colds—"

Baekhyun holds his breath. The same time last year, Jongdae went down with the worst flu ever, the runny nose and coughs lasting for more than two weeks. His fever went on and off for at least a week, and a migraine completed the holy trinity of annoying and common illnesses. Kyungsoo had become a staple in Jongdae's household that time, and Baekhyun made it a point to go home at 6 p.m. everyday for the next three weeks just so he could look after Jongdae, as well. There were many sleepless nights and, by the end of Jongdae's sick season, Baekhyun and Kyungsoo ended up with a runny nose.

Family, Baekhyun remembers one of them mentioning as they all snuggled under one big comforter. Kyungsoo's bed had always been the most comfortable, was the only bed that could house all three of them without Jongdae and Kyungsoo having to kick Baekhyun out. They're the only family Jongdae has; this isn't sacrifice. It's part of who they are.

"Every October," Baekhyun mumbles in a rush. Jongdae snores like a truck honking down the streets of Seoul at ass-o-clock. "Sometimes it lasts the whole month."

"And he likes turning up his aircon, too." Joonmyun chuckles. It comes out dry. Joonmyun hasn't left Jongdae's side since he made Jongdae drink the paracetamol. "Now I understand why you're friends."

The press release is that stubbornness is the very thing that has brought all three of them together. "It's the only reason why we're friends, to be honest," Kyungsoo often tells people who ask more as a way to brush them off than to actually make light of the whole how it all began tale. The Youtube story is usually an afterthought, and Baekhyun can't really say he minds; they could have easily cast each other aside without any hesitation after all those studio recordings, but they decided to stick with each other.

Sometimes, people make stupid decisions — this holds true for all three of them.

Joonmyun's already left Jongdae's side when Baekhyun lifts his gaze. He squeezes beside Baekhyun with as much energy as a snail. There's barely any space for them to lean against when they're pressed together like this, but it's comfortable, somehow, with Joonmyun's head rested on his shoulder, tiny puffs of warmth leaving Joonmyun's slightly parted lips. "You didn't have to stay, y'know. I could've tried figuring things out," Baekhyun whispers, and Joonmyun pinches him lightly in his side.

"I'm not exactly the type of person who'd leave people behind."

Baekhyun smiles. "I figured."

He leans his head on Joonmyun's own and slowly, very slowly, snakes a hand across Joonmyun's back, as if methodically finding his path to the other side. Joonmyun giggles a little, ticklish, and quickly clasps a hand over his mouth before he could even laugh some more, just in time for the apology slipping from his lips to not go unnoticed.

"Sorry."

"Ssh." Baekhyun presses his lips on Joonmyun's forehead. "Rest."

Joonmyun makes a muffled sound, a mixture of fatigue and agreement. Baekhyun feels the weight of Joonmyun's body sinking in his skin, the pull of gravity lulling him to a peaceful slumber.

+

When Baekhyun wakes up, Joonmyun's already gone from his side, but the sound of footsteps is thick in the air.

Jongdae's fever has gone down completely, and the rise and fall of his chest is more rhythmic compared to last night. At one point, Jongdae was gasping for air, and Joonmyun ran his fingers through Jongdae's hair, the other hand wiping Jongdae's extremities. Baekhyun sat in the corner, studying the movement of Joonmyun's fingers, and the last thought he remembered before drifting to sleep was I want to hold his hand.

His phone sounds off. Kyungsoo lives. hey thanks man. pitch 2day, didnt get any sleep. hows jd? u got any rest?

no more fever. dont 4get 2 eat k? and yeah just woke up. ty for the wake up call mom <3

eww stay away frm me. oh hey u said jm went w u? hey those dates r becoming more frequent gimme deets!!!

Baekhyun slips his phone in his back pocket, grinning at the thought of Kyungsoo's disgruntled face reflected on the screen of his phone.

He walks to the kitchen as quietly as possible. He catches Joonmyun slicing onion leeks, adding them to whatever he's cooking as soon as he's done. "G'morning," he mumbles, smiling when he sees the quick rise of Joonmyun's shoulders. Joonmyun's got his sleeves rolled up now, and he looks nothing like the owner of an events agency when he's working his magic in the kitchen like this. "What are you cooking?"

"I don't know what to call this. Uh." Joonmyun sifts through the contents of the stew-like concotion with a wooden spoon. "Chicken-with-onion-leeks-and-Jongdae's-leftover-but-edible-food-in-the-fridge jjigae?"

Baekhyun moves closer, slipping his arms around Joonmyun waist. He tucks his chin on Joonmyun's shoulder, taking a deep breath as he takes a whiff of the stew. It's different. And this is, too — Joonmyun freezing, hand gripping the wooden spoon's handle tight, eyes fixed on the stew brewing on the stove, Baekhyun with his lips barely centimeters from the back of Joonmyun's neck, slivers of sunshine peeking through the jalousies, cutting through their skin. "Jongdae's-annual-cold-cure jjigae," Baekhyun mumbles, and Joonmyun laughs lightly, muscles relaxing against Baekhyun's chest.

"And thank you, really." Baekhyun takes another deep breath, presses closer so that he can feel Joonmyun's every move. "I didn't think you'd stay until he got better."

Joonmyun draws the wooden spoon close to his lips, blows on the liquid, then gestures for Baekhyun to take a sip. "It was a Friday night. I didn't have anything else to do. And again, I don't leave people behind."

"Even with notice?"

Joonmyun chuckles, nudges him a bit in his torso. "At all. Period."

Baekhyun unwraps himself from Joonmyun, then proceeds to set up the table — for two, initially, because Jongdae's too deep in his slumber to be woken up, but the sound of Jongdae's snores breaks the silence, as if announcing his presence, and Joonmyun chokes midway through tasting the stew. Joonmyun keeps his eyes on the stove, though, only turning around to check if the table setup is done.

"I never got to ask," Baekhyun suddenly says, voice faint and low. Joonmyun turns the stove off and carefully sets the pot on the mantle. Baekhyun waits for Joonmyun to be freed of tasks, waits for Joonmyun to sit opposite him on the table, before he continues, "From where did you meet Kyungsoo? You two... seem to know each other quite well."

There's a flash of surprise in Joonmyun's eyes that if Baekhyun so much as blinked, he would have missed it. Joonmyun furrows his eyebrows. There's a peculiar curl on the curve of the lip, and Joonmyun worries his lower lip a bit before answering, "From the past."

"Work? Freelance? Were you friends before? Did you have a bad falling-out?"

Joonmyun scrunches his nose. "If Kyungsoo didn't tell you anything about whatever it is, then it's not important. Now, go make yourself useful and make coffee," Joonmyun replies, instead.

Joonmyun gets up, but looks at Baekhyun briefly before turning on his heel. Baekhyun hears Jongdae grunting, hears Joonmyun pleading, Please, Jongdae, you have to get up. The soup will get cold if you don't. He reaches over, looks into the pot, watches as the tiny bubbles pop one-by-one. If Kyungsoo didn't tell you anything about whatever it is, then it's not important. If they aren't hiding anything, then saying, I know him from work. My previous work. shouldn't be too hard.

"Feeling better?" Baekhyun hears Joonmyun asking, and Jongdae lets slip one of his signature eh's, grinning at Baekhyun when he and Joonmyun appear from the doorstep.

If he asks himself the same thing, he won't know how to answer. He has the slightest idea of why there's a sinking feeling in his stomach, sentences upon sentences fighting to slip from his lips for a clumsy enunciation. He has no idea at all.

+

If it's not the quarterly media review that has Baekhyun's brain exploding into many, tiny pieces, it's the monthly business target regroups that make his life at least three times harder. They're tiny updates that clients often derive outrageous market assumptions from — are you sure we should be investing in iMedia if we're performing well below the benchmark, is Facebook even the best platform to use, Pinterest seems interesting; let's use it, are you even doing your job?

"Hey Baek." Minseok lays a palm flat on his shoulder. It's the first time he's heard a non-work term slip from Minseok's lips, but then Baekhyun attributes anything that he sees in the office to work at the moment. "You sent me the plans for the previous fiscal year." He rubs his eyes, then offers a sad smile. "I think you need a break."

By break, Minseok means a good amount of liquor and real food. The nearest samgyupsal place is about two blocks away, a good fifteen-minute walk for two people who have just rendered overtime work. Minseok's wearing twice as much layers when they head out, and Baekhyun adds a scarf to his ensemble, digging his hands deep in his pockets as soon as they step outside the building.

It's been two weeks since he's last gone out for a drink, possibly even longer if he'd narrow it down to the last time he's had dinner with Minseok. Minseok isn't exactly the most outgoing of people, always favoring staying in his apartment in homey Anggukdong instead of going out with people from the office. "I'll talk to people if I have to or want to," Baekhyun remembers Minseok saying years back, during one of their drunken bull sessions. "It would be a waste to use my pretty mouth to feed them with baseless praise."

"I feel like a kid all of a sudden," Minseok says, voice barely above a whisper. His lips are trembling and the white lights cast him a sick glow. "Friday night and we're looking for a samgyupsal place here in Gangnam. Haven't done this in, what, six, seven years?"

Baekhyun chuckles, but chokes when he takes in too much cold air. "You'll always deny it, but you love Garosugil way too much because it makes you feel young."

"Shut up." Minseok reaches over to slap him on his arm, but quickly retracts his hand when the wind blows hard. "You're not much younger than I am."

Baekhyun rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. That's what old people always say."

They reach an intersection. 120 seconds out in the cold, with nothing but each other to hold on to for warmth. Baekhyun moves closer, takes a few quick breaths, then quickly looks at Minseok. "Wait. You said Friday, right? Today's a Friday?"

"Yeah. You even moved our 5 p.m. meeting today to next week because who even attends a 5 p.m. meeting on a Friday?"

Baekhyun blinks twice, reaches for his phone in his pocket, then activates the screen. It looks a bit empty without the plethora of notifications lined at the navigation dock, without obnoxious KKT messages from Jongdae or from Kyungsoo or from anyone who matters. He navigates to his text messages, hovers Joonmyun's name briefly, then clicks the thread. It's been two weeks since they've last exchanged messages, and the last thing Joonmyun said was, go, go to bed. you need to rest. we'll talk sometime.

where are the smileys?, he remembers himself contemplating on replying, but he'd already fallen asleep by the time he decided to just go with a reply not as well though of as his previous messages.

"Hey, we can cross now," Minseok says, resting a hand on Baekhyun's back. Baekhyun smiles in thoughtless response.

The same time two weeks ago, they were on the road to Bucheon, sitting side by side, singing Jon McLaughlin and Matt Nathanson songs on the stereo. There was the occasional Paolo Nutini, and when Baekhyun had taken control of Joonmyun's iPod, he'd skipped them all, saying that Paolo Nutini's voice was way too soothing that they'd be at the risk of falling asleep while driving. Joonmyun had said, "Well then, sing one of your original songs for me. Then, I won't fall asleep." Baekhyun had replied, "I sing for a fee."

They reached a stop light. Joonmyun looked at him for a good ten seconds as he worried his lower lip, then looked back at the road when a The Ready Set song came up. Baekhyun skipped that, too, saying it was too upbeat for a late-night drive.

"You're up for drinking, right?" Minseok asks, and Baekhyun feels a violent break of life fill his lungs. He takes a deep breath, looks around him before nodding in agreement.

The rest of the walk is quiet, the silence comfortable enough to let Baekhyun retreat to the deepest recesses of his thoughts. This is the longest he's gone without talking to either Kyungsoo or Jongdae, and he's really thankful they come from the same industry. Meeting up after work is almost a distant dream, but they understand how agency life works — they might as well be doctors of advertising, perpetually on-call, prepared to be pulled out of their normal lives to mend the advertising woes of clients at insane work hours.

"This isn't about work, is it?" Minseok says after a while, once the kimchi jjigae arrives. Baekhyun squints briefly. They're already seated comfortably and he's only just realized it.

Baekhyun looks up at the server and gives her a small smile before turning to Minseok. Minseok's lips are pursed, curved down, and there's a trace of worry in his eyes. Baekhyun can see his reflection on the lenses of Minseok's eyeglasses, and he looks horrible, to say the least. It can be the many sleepless nights or the workload weighing down on him, the many gruelling hours word undisrupted by much-needed crazy texts from Kyungsoo and Jongdae, those two weeks of silence between him and Joonmyun. It can be anything.

"What do you mean?"

"You look awful. Stressed. You've never been this worn out by work."

"Times are changing," Baekhyun replies, laughing a little. "I'm getting older. I'm not the manager I used to be two years back."

"You know what I mean."

"I—" Two platters of samgyupsal arrive. He suddenly realizes that he's the one who ordered this when Minseok laughs, eyes still fixed on him. Maybe this is too much for two people. He keeps his eyes glued to the smoke sizzling from the grill. "Yeah. I know," he admits, then looks up at Minseok. "But it's a long story so just— Don't make me narrate how it all began."

Minseok shrugs as he uncaps the bottle of soju. "Then tell me what had just happened and I can figure out the rest."

Baekhyun takes a deep breath. This, whatever it's supposed to be, isn't anything. He and Joonmyun are just friends who go out for dinner and drinks too often for two people who have met not too long ago. Joonmyun is a great assistant director, an amazing color grader, a friend selfless enough to put other people's needs before his own. That night, when they had beer in Baekhyun's house, Baekhyun knew Joonmyun wasn't just looking for his coat; he was looking for more — a lingering touch, a hug, maybe even a kiss. Someone who will just listen to how his day unfolded and not laugh at him or his weird and crazy decisions. Someone who won't berate him and his ways. He needed Baekhyun that night, and Baekhyun needed to be with Jongdae. Joonmyun could have made him choose, but instead Joonmyun took him to Bucheon without any hesitation. Joonmyun made a choice.

It isn't anything, even if the only thing Baekhyun wants right now is to receive a message from Joonmyun just to know that things are good between them, that he hasn't crossed a line by asking Joonmyun about Kyungsoo and their past. He's shivering and it's cold and he hasn't even removed any of his winter garments, and he's trembling all over, and there's a sharp wave of cold in his chest. If he takes a deep breath, he feels it will engulf him, consume him like the feeling of fear taking root in his body. Nothing scares him but the thought of being frightened.

"I met someone and I think I screwed things up by making him think that I've already made a choice," he says all in one breath. His lips quiver, but he can feel his hands again. Immediately, he fishes for his phone in his pocket and lays it flat on the table. "And I really have, but it's not what he thinks."

"I think you're confusing him the way you're confusing me right now," is all that Minseok says. Minseok pours him some soju, reaching across the table to place the glass in front of him. "So talk to him and tell him upfront whatever you need to say. Guessing games aren't fun, you know."

"Spoken like a true man of numbers," Baekhyun mumbles. He turns to his side before taking the shot and, when he turns back to Minseok, Minseok's smiling.

"Spoken like someone who's learned a lesson." Minseok winks, then gestures for Baekhyun to hand him his bowl.

Baekhyun reaches for the tongs on instinct and turns over the almost-burnt slices of samgyupsal just in time.

+

The logic behind confrontations is as foreign to Baekhyun as the concept of filing a vacation leave is. He's been in this industry for nearly seven years already, and while he's rich in deductions from his payroll due to tardiness, he's never taken a vacation leave, not even once. Sick leaves are inevitably used up come end of the year, before the cycle is renewed — one can only be so immune to diseases spreading in the office for so long.

He takes a deep breath, eyes fixed on the bright signage in front of him. The handles of the door are a bit frosted, so he pushes one with his arm until a guard rushes to open the door for him. He bows to the man, then walks slowly to the receiptionist's desk.

JS Tower in Samseong-ro. That's the place, Kris has said over text earlier, when Baekhyun asked him where Joonmyun's office was. He'd cited 'production needs' as a reason behind him visiting Joonmyun on a Saturday, and Kris bought it, had even sustained the conversation and asked about Baekhyun's plans, if he was going to release a new single soon, that, If you need any help on your video, you know who to trust. Trust Kris to let his corporate voice seep into casual conversations and KKT messages. Pretty sure he's there on weekends. He's a fucking workaholic, Kris even adds in a rush, and Baekhyun simply replies with a curt thanks, flourished only with a smiley at the end.

"Excuse me. Active Nations is on what floor?" he asks. He chokes on the last part. It's not as if he's auditioning for a talent search or something; getting the exact location of Joonmyun's agency shouldn't be too hard. The lady turns to him with a smile and a direct answer — "22nd, sir. You may take the lift to your right to reach Active Nations."

"Thanks," he mumbles, and goes on his way.

He presses the button for the 22nd floor and takes a deep breath as he watches the doors slide shut.

The thing about confrontations is that the chance of success isn't always a hundred percent, and Baekhyun doesn't deal too well with rejection. He'd been turned down once, back in highschool, by a girl named Taeyeon, but then it might have been warranted because he had a history of wiggling his eyebrows at girls with nice and firm butts; since then, he's always been the one firing and calling the shots, shooting people down one by one, sometimes all at once, in a straight line. Being asked to rework a media plan doesn't count as rejection; it's work, it's just work. This involves feelings. Feelings complicate everything.

The doors slide open, and the first thing Baekhyun notices is that the whole office — at least everything he sees of it — is all lit up.

There's a tentative pause before he rings the door bell. Announcing his arrival defeats the purpose of the surprise, but there's no other way to get inside. With eyes closed, he presses it, then shoves his hands deep in his pockets. It's colder here than outside where the wind blows and cuts his skin; here, inside, he feels his fingers go numb and his chest constrict. This is a moment of weakness. This is fear.

Rushed footsteps, then a resounding beep that signals the opening of the second door from the office's lobby. He knows those shoes and the rhythm in the steps, the silhouette moving just beyond the frosted glass. Even with the distance spread out between them, he knows he isn't wrong.

The door opens and Joonmyun peeks briefly. Oh, he mouths, then worries his lower lip for a while. It takes a couple of seconds before Joonmyun jolts and opens the second door completely, then unlocks the first door.

"Hey," Joonmyun says. He's breathless and he smells a lot like coffee. Baekhyun likes every single bit of it.

"Hey," Baekhyun replies. He wiggles his fingers in his pockets as he musters his best smile. "It's... been a while."

Joonmyun pulls him inside the office and quickly closes the door behind them.

The office is empty. The only disruption to the wave of silence is music coming from one of the rooms, the one at the far end of the aisle. Joonmyun's walking a few feet ahead of him, and he looks around as they tread the path to the music-filled room. It looks nothing like an office — the walls are painted beige and the shape of the couches isn't the most easily identifiable polygon in the planet. The colors are muted, but everything about the office — from the occasional faded vintage prints on the wall to the furniture and even down to the design of the carpet — speaks of Joonmyun and the way he thinks — differently.

"Come in," Joonmyun says, holding the door open for Baekhyun, and Baekhyun slides inside without another word.

"It isn't much, but it's feels a bit like home," Joonmyun comments, a hand moving across the room. Joonmyun's desk is at the center and there are shelves on either side of his table. There's a coffee maker about a few feet away, and two filing cabinets next to the pots of eucalyptus by the door. The scent of coffee is thick in the air, and wraps around the menthol coming from the eucalyptus.

Baekhyun looks at Joonmyun and smiles. "It's cute," he says. Joonmyun chuckles a little.

"Cute isn't exactly the best word to use to describe an office with."

"I wasn't talking about the office."

Joonmyun's breath hitches.

This is wall number one: It's been two weeks since they've last seen each other. It isn't too long, but it's been three hundred and thirty six hours apart, without any form of contact, physical or otherwise. Joonmyun's standing beside his table and Baekhyun's right beside the chair farthest from Joonmyun. "I missed you," Baekhyun confesses, and he presses his lips tightly together, like if he says more he'll ruin it. A ghost of a smile surfaces on Joonmyun's lips, and he's walking closer, and they're now within reach, about an arm's length from each other. Civil but not distant, friendly but not overly familiar.

"It's been—"

"Two weeks," Joonmyun finishes. He sits on the edge of his table and gestures for Baekhyun to come closer.

"It felt like forever."

Wall number two is Baekhyun sitting beside Joonmyun, hands clasped, cold and still on his thighs. Joonmyun hasn't looked him in the eye since they entered the room, but moves closer so that their shoulders bump. The warmth is familiar, comforting; it sends a sizzle down Baekhyun's torso, sets off explosions at the tips of his fingers. He wants to move closer, to snake a hand around Joonmyun's shoulder and rest his head there. He wants to feel the rise and fall of Joonmyun's chest against his skin.

"Busy with events stuff?" Baekhyun asks, quickly changing the topic when Joonmyun doesn't reply. Joonmyun nods, doesn't push him away, but Baekhyun keeps his hands to himself, nonetheless. Baby steps.

"How's Jongdae, by the way?"

Baekhyun looks up and looks at Joonmyun. Their eyes meet. It's electric. He's paralyzed and energized at the same time. A deluge of emotions washes over him, knocks from inside his chest in an attempt to get out, but he keeps it all in, holds his breath before parting his lips to speak. "He's good. Hasn't been sick in weeks, I think. I mean if he was, he'd definitely give me a call—"

"He'd call Kyungsoo first," Joonmyun reminds him. The smile Joonmyun is now wearing is more relaxed, more Joonmyun, but Joonmyun stands from where he is. Baekhyun jolts a little at the loss of warmth, follows Joonmyun with his eyes, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "He would, wouldn't he?"

"I don't mind," Baekhyun replies in a heartbeat.

The air thins. The music fades out. Baekhyun waits for the next track, but it's the last song on the playlist. Joonmyun doesn't budge, the only noticeable movement of his body being the steady rise and fall of his chest. The pounding in Baekhyun's chest rings louder in his ears.

And then, there's wall number three.

Joonmyun breaks the eye contact, lets his eyes linger on Baekhyun's lips. Often, Baekhyun wonders about how it would feel to kiss Joonmyun, to suck all the air out of him, to have Joonmyun screaming his name, but all these thoughts conveniently get lost at the back of Baekhyun's mind when the smile on Joonmyun's lips grows wider, warm and forgiving. "You don't mind, or you just don't want to admit it?" Joonmyun asks, this time a bit more taunting than genuinely curious, a bit more like a close friend, an exceptionally close one, and less like an acquaintance, a distant memory.

Baekhyun chuckles. He fixes his eyes on Joonmyun's lips, posing a challenge. "Why would it even matter?"

Baekhyun moves close, and Joonmyun moves even closer. Six inches, Baekhyun thinks — six inches, two seconds, a lifetime of uncertainty and regret pushing them apart. They're at this point again, Joonmyun with his lips pressed so thinly together and Baekhyun with his fists clenched so tight, and they're eye-to-eye, and they're both holding their breath, and Baekhyun cannot fight the feeling any longer. He takes a step forward and so does Joonmyun. Their noses bump. They laugh. Somewhere along the way, halfway through taking that first step, Baekhyun thought, why am I even doing this? I'm so used to playing around, so why stop playing? Joonmyun worries his lower lip, suppressing a smile, and now Baekhyun knows why.

"But Jongdae— What—" Joonmyun leans in a bit, gulps hard as he tries to finish his sentence. "What about Jongdae? Aren't you—"

"We're friends. Just friends." Baekhyun cups Joonmyun's face, traces Joonmyun's smile with his thumbs. "We've always been just friends."

Joonmyun catches a thumb and licks it lightly. "The day we met, I saw you two on the verge of making out—"

"And you caught us just in time." Baekhyun nips on Joonmyun's upper lip lightly, and Joonmyun shivers at the contact. "For a very good reason, too."

Joonmyun's the first to give up and give in, grabbing Baekhyun by his shoulders and pushing him against the wall. Joonmyun's lips are hot and heavy and wet, and Joonmyun tastes nothing like anything Baekhyun has tasted before. This is two weeks of silence, months of hanging around each other, hoping something will happen between them. This is the breach of personal space and taking off from edge of self-control. This is the culmination of fear and admission.

Joonmyun licks the stretch of Baekhyun's neck and Baekhyun shivers, his grip on Joonmyun loosening. "And us... what are we?" Joonmyun manages to say in between kisses and licks. He's got a hand on the button of Baekhyun's pants and Baekhyun bucks his hips up, the need for contact consuming him. "What are we, Byun Baekhyun?"

Baekhyun wraps his hands around Joonmyun's waist and snakes his hands inside Joonmyun's shirt. He rakes his nails on Joonmyun's skin and Joonmyun groans, and Baekhyun captures all of it when he presses his lips on Joonmyun's, licking the cavern of Joonmyun's mouth, biting a bit too hard on Joonmyun's lower lip when Joonmyun unbuttons his pants. "I'd want to be your everything, if you don't mind," he whispers, breath heavy on Joonmyun's skin as Joonmyun slips a hand inside his pants, cupping his erection.

Joonmyun caresses him with his thumb lightly. "It would be a pleasure—" Joonmyun replies, then slips his thumb beneath the waistband of Baekhyun's briefs, tugging them down slowly. "— to be yours, if you'd let me ask the same from you." Their foreheads bump and they're sweaty and they're panting, and Joonmyun's glowing, pressed so close to Baekhyun, and all Baekhyun can think is mine, mine, finally all mine.

"You can have all of me."

Joonmyun leans in for a quick kiss on the lips, then on his nose. "Glad to know."

Joonmyun tugs Baekhyun's jeans all the way down and Baekhyun keeps his eyes on Joonmyun, like if he blinks Joonmyun will disappear, or fade away, or leave. He watches as Joonmyun gets down on his knees, as Joonmyun secures hands on his hips, as Joonmyun maps a path along the inside of his thigh with kisses, as Joonmyun looks up, licks his lips, and takes all of him in one swift move. His chest constricts and he doesn't bite back the moans that escape his lips, doesn't deny Joonmyun of the music he's long been keeping inside of him as Joonmyun licks the underside of his shaft, tongue circling on the tip of his dick before Joonmyun pulls away to look up at him again. He can feel Joonmyun's breath on his skin, can feel the warmth of Joonmyun's hands despite Joonmyun's cold fingers. He can feel everything that Joonmyun is.

They are one. They are alive. They are electric. This is real and defined. This is who they are — Baekhyun and Joonmyun, not-strangers, not just friends. They are.

+

Later, Joonmyun slumps beside him on the floor, back against the wall. "Kyungsoo and I used to go out when we were still in the same agency," Joonmyun mentions out of the blue. He's looking at Baekhyun in the eye, stare never wavering, and his hands are warm. "Never really lasted. He looked too caught up in the past and hung up on someone to hang around me for too long."

"That's all?" Baekhyun asks. The intro of Matt Nathanson's Room At The End Of The World plays in the background.

Joonmyun furrows his eyebrows and smiles, albeit awkwardly. "Kris is an ass who can't be tied down?"

Baekhyun leans on Joonmyun's shoulder and nuzzles his neck. He feels lighter, like he can even fly, and he won't ever have to fear falling because Joonmyun would be somewhere down there, ready to catch him. And he'd do the same for Joonmyun.

"Good," Baekhyun replies. The smile on his lips grows wider. "That's all I needed to know."

+

He spends the night at Joonmyun's place. It looks a lot like Joonmyun's office, but feels nothing like it, especially when Joonmyun crawls on top of him on the couch and buries his face in Baekhyun's chest. Joonmyun's singing and it tickles, and it sounds way too familiar to not be mainstream. Joonmyun looks up at him, the heat of a challenge burning in his eyes — You know this, right? You're supposed to know what this is. Wall number four is breaking down all other walls and admitting defeat, so Baekhyun keeps his lips pressed tightly together, just smiling until Joonmyun's lips are merely centimeters from his and the song becomes more familiar with each passing note.

"I don't know," Baekhyun whispers, and Joonmyun just giggles. "You tell me," he continues, and Joonmyun complies, offering answers in the open press of his mouth.

+

The first message he gets from Kyungsoo in a long, long while is a message in all caps, saying, 10M VIEWS!!!!! :D :D :D

Jongdae's reply comes in too quick, a series of stickers and keysmashes, and Kyungsoo returns the favor by replying with his own set of stickers. ITS 11M NOW GUYS U R LATE 2 D PARTY, Baekhyun replies, and Kyungsoo replies with a middle-finger sticker, while Jongdae says, wow tysm party pooper :\ BUT YAY 11M WAT UUUUP

He rests his phone beside his laptop, sits back, and beams as he stares at the views counter. Eleven million. This is the most views they've gotten for a music video, the most any one of them has gotten for any video they've ever uploaded, be it a legitimate recording or a behind-the-scenes video. He unlocks his phone, prepared to type a message to Joonmyun, until a message from Jongdae pops up.

hey mr idk how to take care of ppl. u live!

Baekhyun laughs a little, then quickly clasps a hand over his mouth. He can see Minseok craning his neck from not too far away. He simply beams at Minseok in response.

Jongdae's favorite way of expressing adoration for his friends is through sarcasm. Baekhyun has received the same message at least fifty times before because he's always late to dinner or any get-together they have, for that matter, and by now he already knows when Jongdae means what he says despite the exclamation point or when Jongdae just aims to tease (but, at the very back of his mind, really means to say I hate you, I really missed you.) Jongdae often has trouble expressing himself directly, always resorting to subtly snide remarks that are taken back as soon as he lets them slip from his lips, saving his face with lingering touches and hugs. He'll never admit it, but he'll let you call him out on it.

This means Jongdae's genuinely seeking him out and inviting him for a quick catching up session. This is Jongdae asking Baekhyun to make the first move even if he's already taken the first step forward.

of course. im too awesome 2 die. 'sup?

d sky :D
we should celebrate d 10m views u know. but soo is bc so

hes always busy :||| dinner sumtym? when ur not working ur ass off?

hahaha i just got paid so no projects 4 now. i hv a flight tmr to bora bora tho. can u do 2nyt?

wow u rich man take me wid u!!! actually no just treat me 2 dinner id already b happy hahaha

wat does ur cultured gangnam taste fancy ryt now?

Baekhyun laughs. He knows just the perfect place for catching up.

cork for turtle, mug for rabbit :D garosugil 730pm. dont be late or else ill make u order extra

kk got it. m gonna feed u til u cant eat anymore

looking 4wd to it ;)

+

Baekhyun arrives earlier than expected. This is paranoia at work, he thinks; the last time he was late for dinner, Jongdae made sure to order so much food that they ended up having half of their orders put in takeout boxes. And of course he suffered the fate of having to pay for everything. Then Kyungsoo made him drive his car and made him sleep on the couch in the living room. Kyungsoo and Jongdae had a really effective way of teaching him a lesson, somehow.

b there in 5 mins just need 2 pee, Jongdae says over text, and Baekhyun just chuckles. It's the warmest night in Garosugil that he has experienced in months.

Jongdae's pale and shivering when he arrives, two layers of beanies covering his head and a thick jacket shielding him from the cold. "The winds here are a fucking beast," he grumbles as he removes the beanies, and Baekhyun reaches over to ruffle his hair before ordering two wasabi lattes.

"How can you be so sure that I'll like wasabi latte," Jongdae asks, and Baekhyun just grins, smug and certain.

"Because I loved it. And I know you trust my taste in things."

Jongdae nods thoughtfully then, after a while, chuckles. "Yeah. Maybe I do, maybe I trust you too much."

A pregnant pause stretches between them. Jongdae's hands are on the table, and he's drumming his fingers — it's to the beat of their new song. Eleven million views, Baekhyun says in his head, smiles a little, then rests his palms on Jongdae's hands. "You trust me, right? Even if I do weird and stupid things sometimes? You trust me to do the right thing?"

Jongdae laughs a little. "Is this the part where you get down on your knees and propose to me?"

Baekhyun stiffles a laugh. "Come on. I thought you knew me inside and out."

Jongdae stops laughing. The smile on his lips hangs awkwardly on the corners, like it can topple over anytime and turn upside down. Jongdae furrows his eyebrows, takes a deep breath, then slips his hands away from Baekhyun's. "I thought I did, until you met Joonmyun."

A corner of Baekhyun's lips tugs up on instinct, and the smile on Baekhyun's lips quickly disappears.

He's known Jongdae for years and this — Jongdae averting his eyes, fixing them on anything but Baekhyun's own, Jongdae pressing his lips so thinly to form a small, tight-lipped smile, the slow rise of the chest, the abrupt fall, the way Jongdae curls his fingers until he's balled his hands into fists — this is the sum of too many emotions and regret rolled into one. This is Jongdae coming to a realization and not giving in to the pull of defeat. This is the Jongdae he knows too well and has almost come to love.

This is the Jongdae who was afraid to tell him upfront about his feelings, the Jongdae who didn't ask him to be his. This is Jongdae.

"I knew we'd have this talk someday soon, especially after the night he took care of me." Jongdae's eyes are fixed on his clasped hands, fingers busy playing with his nails. The smile still hasn't resurfaced, but Baekhyun's fairly certain it will return soon. Jongdae is an expert at pretending and denying himself the simple pleasures he so desperately wants. "You looked at him with so much—"

"— emotion?"

"— love," Jongdae finishes. He almost chokes on the word. "Like you were dying to tell the world, dying to tell me that hey, you see this guy? I wouldn't mind waking up next to him every morning, or cooking breakfast for him M-W-F. I didn't... recognize that look at first." Jongdae's voice drifts off and he looks up, finally meeting Baekhyun in the eye. "You never gave me that look. Ever."

Baekhyun worries his lower lip. "Are you mad?" he asks, tentatively, as if he's scared he's treading dangerous grounds. Relationships have always been a very sensitive topic, and Jongdae, for all of his jokes about making Baekhyun fall in love with him, avoids the topic like the plague.

"At you? No. Not in a million years. At myself? Maybe, but I don't know why. I just am."

"Don't say that," Baekhyun rushes. He reaches for Jongdae's hands again, but Jongdae shakes his head and rests his hands under the table, away from Baekhyun's line of sight.

"Just— One question. Why him? Why not me?"

Baekhyun freezes. The server comes with two cups of coffee and places them on the table gently. The clinking of the teaspoon against the saucer rings in Baekhyun's ears; it sends a sharp line of pain through his chest. The answer is right under Jongdae's nose, but Baekhyun fears that Jongdae won't appreciate someone shoving the answers right in his face. Jongdae's the type who loves learning the hard way, the type who takes time to learn things through. He's foolishly adventurous.

"Because he made it clear, since day one, that he wanted us to be more than friends. He asked me out on a date. He always calls our dinner meet ups dates and I know it's pretty petty but you never had enough courage to really ask me out." Baekhyun laughs a little. The roles are reversed now — he's staring at Jongdae's fingers and Jongdae's looking up at him, searching for his eyes. "And that's important because if you really wanted to make things work out, you wouldn't have said yes to that no strings attached agreement. You would have fought to keep me to yourself. Did you seriously think the two of us playing around would've taken us somewhere?"

"I was willing to wait," Jongdae mumbles. "You know that, I didn't have qualms with waiting for the day that you—"

"But you didn't do anything. You just kept implying that you wanted something more, but you never actually said anything. If you really wanted me, you could have just asked."

Baekhyun peeks through his bangs and meets Jongdae, eye-to-eye. He takes a deep breath. Jongdae doesn't speak, doesn't touch his coffee, doesn't reach over to hold Baekhyun's hand or doesn't stand from his seat to punch Baekhyun in the face; instead, he just stares at Baekhyun, eyes not parting from his. Slowly, the creases on Jongdae's forehead ease, and his lips curve up into an unfamiliar smile — there's a realization hanging from the corners, threatening to fall from his lips, an admission of failure and regret.

"I hate to say this, but that made perfect sense," Jongdae finally says. He draws the cup of closer, warming his hands. He's shaking. Baekhyun wants to take him in his arms and apologize, kiss his worries away, whisper in Jongdae's ear, Hey, don't cry. You're ugly when you cry. "I had my chance, and I blew it."

"Nah, I don't think so," he replies, trying to slip back into an easy, more familiar smile. "It was a chance you didn't take, because there's probably something — someone else — better for you out there."

Jongdae furrows his eyebrows at Baekhyun, this time more as an attempt to brush Baekhyun off than an attempt to make sense of things. He takes a sip of the coffee, nods thoughtfully as he tilts the cup some more, and gives Baekhyun a thumbs up after setting the cup back down. Jongdae stares at the liquid for a while before looking back up, eyes much brighter now. This is mask number one, the one Jongdae knows Baekhyun can easily see through; he wears it, anyway. It's not an attempt to save face; it's more of a habit of Jongdae's. At the slightest sign of pain, Jongdae withdraws from the world for a minute, then comes back shiny and new. And broken. Broken but beautiful.

"Who would want a relationship freak like me, though?" Jongdae asks, laughing a little. It comes out as a croak more than music, and he points an accusing finger at Baekhyun as he tries to catch his breath. "No, seriously, who'd want to get into a relationship with someone like me? And nope, you're not setting me up with anyone. Don't you even dare."

I almost did. I almost wanted to be with you forever, Baekhyun wants to reply but decides against it, shrugs in response, but gestures at Jongdae that, "You've got froth on your face. Just there."

Jongdae struggles to find whatever it is that Baekhyun's pointing at, and Baekhyun just laughs as Jongdae only ends up spreading the froth on his skin all the more. He could reach over to wipe it off or kiss it away, but he doesn't. He keeps his hands tucked under his thighs but keeps his eyes on Jongdae, gandering at the sight of the easy, relaxed smile that surfaces on Jongdae's lips as he realizes what Baekhyun has been doing all along. This is familiar. This is friendly. They're friends and they forever will be.

That is as good as it gets.

+

The comfortable silence eases back late in the evening, on their way to the subway station. Baekhyun can barely make out whatever Jongdae's saying through the scarf wrapped around his neck, covering his mouth, so he moves closer until the words are clearer. "I said, I can walk to the station alone," Jongdae repeats, then sticks out his tongue at Baekhyun. Immediately, he regrets this decision.

Baekhyun rolls his eyes. "Come on, it's late. You can just stay in my place—"

"Or I can ask Kyungsoo to pick me up, make himself and his car useful or something," Jongdae mumbles in reply.

Baekhyun stops in his tracks and looks to his side, squinting so he can get a better view of Jongdae. "Kyungsoo," he says, voice barely above a whisper, and suddenly he sees an image of Kyungsoo standing beside Jongdae, removing his own scarf and giving it to Jongdae so that Jongdae would stop shivering, Kyungsoo pulling Jongdae close to his side as they cross the street because sometimes, only sometimes, Jongdae doesn't pay attention. Kyungsoo tucking Jongdae in bed, drawing the blanket up to his lips because Jongdae hates it when his lips get cold. "D'you want me to call him so he can pick you up?"

Jongdae turns to him with a frown. "I'm not a kid. I can do that myself."

"Yeah, if you can stop your hands from shaking."

"Dammit," Jongdae says, growling, and stuffs his hands deeper in his pockets. They stop just near the staircase, and Jongdae walks a few steps down until he can't feel the blowing winds anymore. "Tell him to pick me up near the station," he calls out to Baekhyun, and Baekhyun just nods, hiding the grin tugging at the corner of his lips from Jongdae's view.

Kyungsoo sounds like a wreck when he picks up the phone, as he croaks Hello? into the receiver. "Hey Soo, Jongdae says you have to pick him up from Exit 8," Baekhyun says, loud enough for Jongdae to hear. Jongdae's sitting on one of the steps now, rubbing his hands for much needed warmth. It hasn't even been five minutes since they've arrived at the exit point, but Jongdae looks more alive now. "He'll freeze in the cold if he walks on the streets. And he won't stay the night at my place," he adds, voice dropping to a whisper.

Uh, okay. I'm getting ready now. Did you screw up again?

"We had the talk. About Joonmyun."

Silence, some clinking of keys, then, Okay. I'll text you when I'm near. Let's talk about this when I get back home with him.

"Thanks," Baekhyun mumbles. "I owe you."

Just keep him warm for the time being. I'll be there the soonest I can.

The soonest is an hour after. Traffic in Seoul is kinder than the usual and by the time Kyungsoo arrives, Jongdae's cold again from falling asleep on Baekhyun's shoulder. Jongdae doesn't retaliate when they take him to the car and have him lie down at the back, doesn't even mumble or grumble when they bend his legs in an attempt to make him fit inside. "Thanks again," Baekhyun tells Kyungsoo just before Kyungsoo steps inside his car. He's wearing just three layers today, not prepared for Jongdae's fit of cold. He's wearing glasses instead of contact lenses. "I woke you up, didn't I?"

Kyungsoo waves him off and laughs a little. He sounds like sleep and lethargy rolled into one. "Come on, it's nothing. You know I'd head out for—"

"For Jongdae. Anytime. As long as he needs you," Baekhyun finishes. Kyungsoo furrows his eyebrows. It looks as if he's squinting and trying to read Baekhyun, and he might as well be doing so — it's cold out here but Baekhyun can't be bothered to build walls around himself, and this is Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo has broken down all of his walls a long, long time ago, even climbed some of them just to meet him halfway. "Am I right?"

"Was I that obvious?" Kyungsoo asks, defeat in the upward curve of his lips as he smiles in exasperation.

"Just a bit," Baekhyun replies, then winks. "But he's dense, so you have to tell him upfront."

"I think we both know that too well," Kyungsoo says, laughing a little.

The wind has stopped blowing, but it's still freezing where they are. Baekhyun bids Kyungsoo goodbye, prepared to turn on his heel and grab a cab to his place when Kyungsoo calls his name, calls out to him even before he can leave. "I promise to make him shiny and new again," Kyungsoo says, and Baekhyun smiles, walking over to where Kyungsoo is to pull him close for a hug.

"And you work on being happy and shiny and new again, too," he whispers just before they part. "Because you're pretty amazing but you're just terribly anti-social, that's why I get all the guys and the girls."

Kyungsoo shrugs, then pinches Baekhyun in his side. "Don't get too cocky. I'll beat you even before you can say supercalifragilistic—"

They both erupt into a peal of laughter loud enough to earn weird looks from the people passing by, loud enough for Jongdae to stir and grumble and say, "What the hell, guys. Shut up." Kyungsoo quickly clasps a hand over their mouths as they try to choke down the laughter, as they slowly take a step back from each other. Kyungsoo's hand is poised on the handle of the door and Baekhyun's got his hands in his pockets. They're eye to eye. They have a mission to accomplish.

"And hey, Baek."

Baekhyun looks up. "Mhmm?"

"Be happy with Joonmyun." Kyungsoo smiles, then shuffles inside his car. "You both deserve to be happy."

The engine roars to life, and Kyungsoo waves at Baekhyun before gripping the steering wheel. "I will," Baekhyun whispers as he watches Kyungsoo drive away. He fishes his phone from his pocket and sees two messages, both from Joonmyun. WOW first non-ot dinner in days and it was AMAZING. didn't know kimchi jjigae could be this goood (^ o ^) Then, much later, i don't know why but i suddenly got the mental image of you as a snow man. is it that cold in garosugil right now?

not as cold :), Baekhyun replies. He can still see Kyungsoo's car in the distance, stopped by the traffic light. Fifteen seconds until a new beginning starts. A minute until twelve midnight.

i can keep you warm~ (^ - ~)

is that an invitation? :P

mm i need a cuddle buddy right now so YES (^___^)v

lol k fyn, ill come ryt over

wow. where's the proper punctuation and spelling? (o____o) i didn't sign up for this!!! ;~~;

Baekhyun chuckles. The hands of the clock move forward. He takes a deep breath and looks ahead, retracing the route to Joonmyun's house in his mind. With a resolute nod, he texts Joonmyun, then takes a step forward.

lol u love me anyway
this is d real me
deal with it ;)

i olredi am (^___^)b

+

"Maybe this is a bad idea."

Baekhyun slumps back in his chair and buries his face in his hands. Years ago, it probably would have been easier to walk into that room and sing his heart out, but he's not the same man he used to be — he's older now, wiser, more afraid of the smallest of things. He still hasn't lost the child-like enthusiasm for singing, but now that he knows more about tone and technique he's more critical of himself more than anyone else. Always picking on himself, looking for ways to improve his singing — better, more professional, more emotional. He likes to think he's made a great deal of progress since he started posting videos of himself singing online, but he still has a lot to work on.

"No, it isn't." Joonmyun moves closer and takes Baekhyun's hands in his. Baekhyun smiles a little at the warmth, but he keeps his eyes closed, like if he opens them he'll be faced with the reality that he actually wants to make this happen, that he asked for this. "You took a leave for this, didn't you?"

"Minseok didn't even ask twice before signing the leave form—"

"And he didn't even do that, yes." Joonmyun traces the length of Baekhyun's face and lifts his chin a little. Joonmyun chuckles, and Baekhyun slowly opens his eyes. He kind of wants to hit Joonmyun in the face because this — the small smile on the lips, the pleading eyes, Joonmyun rubbing circles lightly on his cheek — he can't say no to or just turn his back on. "And Kyungsoo and Jongdae are asking me to live text to them your audition story, so please go inside?"

"You want me to audition for The Voice just so the three of you can laugh at me?" he says, frowning as he ends. He slaps Joonmyun lightly on the arm.

"No." Joonmyun shakes his head, then cups Baekhyun's face as he leans closer. They're at a slightly darker portion of the big room and everyone around them is preoccupied with their own pieces, belting out notes and practicing before their turn comes. This is both safe and risky, but Baekhyun might as well be taking another risk if he's pushing through with his audition. "I want you to face the judges because I believe in you," Joonmyun says, slowly, as if putting stress on every word. "I believe that you have the voice and the talent to make it to the blind auditions, and to the Battles, and even to the finals."

Baekhyun laughs a little. "You're kidding."

Joonmyun places a light kiss on his nose. "Wrong again. I'm telling the truth."

"Contestant number 398? Is there a 398 in the room?"

Baekhyun bolts up and raises his hand on instinct then quickly retracts his hand, but it's too late; the coordinator has already spotted him and is asking him to approach the door. "I can't do this," he whispers to Joonmyun as he eases the creases on his polo, and Joonmyun gives his hand a light squeeze.

"You can. You can do anything." Joonmyun brushes his lips on the back of Baekhyun's hand just lightly. "Now go, blow them away."

Baekhyun smiles at the coordinator and bows at him. He clenches and unclenches his fists. "Good luck," the coordinator tells him, a smile spread wide on his lips, and Baekhyun looks over his shoulder — looks at Joonmyun, all bright-eyed and big smiles — before taking a step forward. The doors swing open. The lights are blinding. He can hear the cheers of the people behind him, the shouts of Good luck! and You can do it! He can hear Joonmyun's voice in his head, saying, I believe in you.

He can hear himself humming, saying, I'm not afraid. I want this. I'll make this happen.

"Contestant number 398?"

Baekhyun shakes his head lightly and smiles.

"I am Byun Baekhyun."

---
a/n:
1. Often, people confuse a media agency for an advertising agency and vice versa. A media agency strictly takes care of media placements — the time slot in which a TV commercial will air, the publication (newspaper, magazine, and the like) in which a print ad will be seen). The classic media agency set up is this — you have your media buyer (the one who "buys" the media placements from suppliers like a major TV network or the local newspaper), your media planner (the one who analyzes the market behavior and recommends which time slots to place ads on), and your account executive (the one who coordinates with everybody). Meanwhile, an advertising agency takes care of the creation of advertisements, be it print, radio plugs, or a TV commercial.

Baekhyun is a communications planning manager, meaning he is the boss of a small team of media planners. He has advanced knowledge of the market behavior and has better understanding of how to draw insights from data. Minseok, meanwhile, is Baekhyun's boss. He's the Planning Director.

The set-up used for the agency Baekhyun and Minseok work for is actually being used in real life. They're working at "MediaCom".

2. Kyungsoo is an art director at the advertising agency "Campaigns & Grey".
3. Jongdae used to work at "Leo Burnett", another advertising agency.
4. Joonmyun's events agency doesn't exist in real life, but the location was taken from the real location of Ogilvy in Korea. Ogilvy is an advertising agency, not an events agency. :)
5. FMCG means "fast-moving consumer goods". These are your haircare, laundry, skincare, and personal care brands. The client Minseok is raging about will remain unnamed. ;)
6. A mixtape of the fic is available HERE! If you want to go back and re-read some parts, listen to the mixtape while doing so for best results. :)