Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

December 15th

The ring at Baekhyun’s doorbell startles him out of the political debate on his television. For a second, he’s confused as he automatically walks to the buzzer camera to see who’s at the main door ten floors down - and he almost spits out his favorite wine when he sees the tall head of curly hair looking around, a noticeable guitar case on his back. “Fuck” Baekhyun curses because he hadn’t seen the time and… oh fuck it - his “casual attire” will have to do.
He exhales slightly longer than necessary without realizing it, before he presses the button to the speaker.

“Glad you found it.”

Chanyeol’s head immediately turns and a smile relaxes his face. “Same. Thought I’d pressed on the wrong number for a minute.”

“How’s your jetlag?” Baekhyun’s mouth flies out small talk before he knows it - probably some excuse (which he won’t admit to himself), like wanting to stall the entrance of Mr. Park into his living-room because maybe he’s not ready yet.

“It would be easier to talk over that piano of yours.” Chanyeol taps the door pointedly and Baekhyun huffs.

“I told you, you have to bark three times to get in.”

“You’re mean.” Chanyeol’s expression falls, brows furrowed yet eyes sparkling wide, his lower lip pushing forward in a childish pout ; the curly hair and puppy eyes have Baekhyun everything but cooing. He grins and presses the buzzer to unlock the door. “Third floor.”

It’s almost comical how Chanyeol doesn’t even seem to get out of character ; his head snaps up and a grin splits his face - exactly like a dog hearing his leash clicking for a run.
He disappears from the camera when he goes through the door, and that’s when Baekhyun snaps out of whatever had him distracted right then - he looks down - no, this attire won’t do. He sprints to his room, frantically throwing open his dresser, changing into a sort of turtleneck and a pair of slim black sweatpants which actually fit him far sexier than he’d care to admit for this particular occasion - no time to tease himself about it, because there’s the expected knock on his door.

Baekhyun lets him inside and Chanyeol enters, mumbling some curses about Baekhyun’s “nasty and useless doorman”. Baekhyun frowns and eyes Chanyeol’s fit. “Really? You’re wearing Tommy - shows you’re not broke - so he should be nice, normally.”

Chanyeol scoffs as he’s taking off his shoes - the newest Balenciaga, actually. “Glad I’m not considered as ‘broke’, especially carrying a bottle of shit expensive Bahamian rum.” he reaches inside his guitar case - apparently it had enough space for liquor - and pulls out a brilliant bottle of amber rum.

Baekhyun smiles when he hands the liquor over. “Well, at least you keep your promises.” He hums, sauntering over to the kitchen to pour a finger of the alcohol into crystal glasses. “What’s that even supposed to mean?” Chanyeol frowns, making his way over to the marble tabletop too. “It means that now you can show me how to make a proper mojito, Mr. Bahamas.” Baekhyun pushes the two glasses towards the musician with an expectant smirk on his face. Chanyeol laughs. “I told you I was a pro at everything except for cocktails.”

“Really?” Baekhyun frowns. He really has to work on his memory after club nights. Before Chanyeol can tease him about the blank memory, Baekhyun waves him away, pulling out a couple mixes to do it himself, pouring a small glass for each of them. They clink glasses to drink and Chanyeol’s expression twists into something perplexed.

“It’s really sweet. I can’t decide whether it’s good or not.”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes. His cocktails never disappoint but this was Park Chanyeol. “If you’re too manly to admit something other than dark beer and hard whiskey is good, then I’m afraid my piano isn’t meant for people too ‘manly’ as yourself.”

Chanyeol’s brows skyrocket, and he almost seems hurt. “It’s good, it’s good.”

Baekhyun shakes his head with a smile.“You can start playing, if you like.” He nudges his chin to the grand piano, “I’ve got work to do.” He drinks his glass and starts to turn towards the couch with his laptop - but Chanyeol’s panicked interjection draws a hidden grin on his lips.

“I was actually hoping you’d help me work out something for my song…” Chanyeol stands, rubbing the back of his neck. Baekhyun faces him and cocks his head. “Alright. Show me what you got, then.”

Chanyeol nods in a ‘challenge accepted’ sort of way, as he goes over to get something from his guitar case again. Baekhyun waits patiently by the piano, arms loosely crossed on the sleek black surface. He’s had one or two one-night stands be completely enthralled with the instrument, wanted to move from the large window to bend him over the smooth surface, then finish off on the couch. He idly traces the visible scratch marks he’d clawed into his poor instrument. Thinking about it, it was a rather fun night, and the man himself was incredible. Maybe Baekhyun could call him sometime soon…

A beige notebook slides across the closed surface, over the black, the white lines, stopping at his fingertips. Chanyeol has seated himself on the stool, his soft hair glistening in the sunset.

“I was hoping there would be snow already, but your view honestly still works well without.”

“Enough to inspire?” Baekhyun flicks through the notebook, assuming whatever song Chanyeol has written is on the last entry.

“Well, I somehow managed to pull a couple verses out of my jet-lagged ass, so the lyrics aren’t too important.” Chanyeol waves it off, and finally starts playing a few soft notes.

His large hands cover maybe five keys at a time, but each note rings sharp and precise, the chords swelling into a fuller sound to fill the space with watercolor music, blue purple and summer breeze carrying the melody from Chanyeol’s fingertips across swirling seas, the notes flitting across Baekhyun’s neck like fairies. He’s so lost in the sound for a minute, that he completely forgets about reading the song, until Chanyeol’s wandering gaze catches his eye and he smiles, nodding towards the poor forgotten notebook - his hands still soothing a song from the ivories. Baekhyun forces his eyes back to the lyrics on the book.

Chanyeol plays through the whole song, with Baekhyun following with the lyrics, humming what he supposes is the melody. When Chanyeol plays the last note and there’s finally nothing but silence again, Baekhyun smiles.

“Seems perfect to me. What did you want help for?”

“I needed someone to help me do a harmony.”

“You could do that in a studio.” Baekhyun teases.

“But the studio doesn’t have a grand piano with a view over Seoul, and it’s not easy finding talented singers in Seoul for anything less than a bottle of rum.”

Baekhyun shakes his head and sips at his drink before turning over to Chanyeol’s side finally taller than the latter. “Alright. Show me the chords.”

Chanyeol presses an F sharp which starts the melody, and he’s about to explain where the harmony is - but Baekhyun beats him to it; his slender fingers fitting right between Chanyeol’s large ones, the heel of his hand soft over Chanyeol’s hand - his voice singing the exact harmony to mimic the chord he plays between Chanyeol’s.

The musician can only numbly nod. “Now C.” He says, either his voice or hands shaking as Baekhyun lets him move to the next chord - a little further down the keys, Baekhyun’s chest pressing lightly against his back as he reaches to follow the chord. Chanyeol sings the lyric for the chord and Baekhyun completes it with the harmony again; his soft hand, floating voice is somewhere too close to his ear.

Chanyeol closes his eyes to focus on his melody as they sing in time - and it’s a perfect match. It’s exactly what the song needed. Chanyeol finds himself smiling like a joker, inexplicable joy rushing through his chest, shivers running down his spine as Baekhyun’s high, floaty harmony completely sends him to seven different heavens with each run, each lingering note. They only sing to the end of the verse, and Baekhyun finishes his harmony suddenly early, leaving a spotlight on Chanyeol’s melody - just to listen to that deep voice, husk rolling down his throat with a stronger fire than the purest liquor.

Chanyeol has opened his eyes when he finishes, turns to look up at Baekhyun with an amused frown. “Why’d you stop?”

“Forgot the lyrics.” Baekhyun shrugs, his hand gliding over Chanyeol’s wrist as he moves away.

“Your voice is amazing.” The honest compliment finally pushes past his lips, taking the latter a little by surprise.

“Thanks. Yours is too.” Baekhyun clears his throat, taking several long sips of his cocktail. Not enough alcohol to blame for the way his head spins when Chanyeol smiles at the compliment.

“Could you pass over my book, I need to make a couple more notes.” Chanyeol orders, immediately correcting himself with a small ‘please’ at Baekhyun’s raised brow.

With his precious songbook and small pen in his hand, he starts working out one or two things, humming the tune to himself as he gently plays the refrain, before nodding and jotting down scribbles beside the lyrics. He’s in a full musician mode, and well, it’s all Baekhyun can look at - purely since he’s finished his drink, and he doesn’t have anything else to do except for silently admire all his little changes, the small frowns and satisfied grins which pass light and shadow over his face as he’s immersed in his passion.

Baekhyun is too busy staring to consider the possibility that the musician would catch him - but his eyes eventually break out of the notebook trance to look at Baekhyun, red-handed. Baekhyun turns his head, missing the latter’s smirk.

“Drinks?” he chokes out, picking up his own empty glass as he moves to the kitchen. Chanyeol hasn’t touched his, but he shakes his head.

“I need to be able to feel my fingers if I want to play right.”

Baekhyun immediately stops his hand which was moving towards the bottle of rum and ashamedly turns to fill himself a glass of water instead.

“Would you mind going through it again? I think I’ve figured out when the harmonies come in and everything.” Chanyeol stops playing and waits for Baekhyun to nod and come back to the piano. He shows him the song plan, and Baekhyun obediently nods and agrees to all the adjustments made, but also does offer different points and suggestions to amplify the break, and soften the refrain.

They collaborate - musician and singer - together. Chanyeol will play a verse, and Baekhyun will add in the harmonies where he’s pointed out, then continue onto the break where they’ll professionally argue over the better tune, Baekhyun taking up the small space seat left next to the latter to pointedly show him a better chord progression, his petite face turning up to the taller’s, expecting a reaction - but Chanyeol’s only thought is how close he is, how the music seems to sing so much better beneath his hands.

Baekhyun will smile something devious and let his fingers keep playing the keys, eyes darker in the sinking sun, still chained to Chanyeol. The musician will laugh to get out of it, swatting his hands away to keep the focus on the song. They’ll sing over and over until Baekhyun finally doesn’t need to look at the book anymore - keep his focus on the music; Chanyeol’s voice, the piano’s tune, the beautiful contrast of his tanned hands, silver Rolex dancing across the keys.

They have fun with it all; one sometimes playfully out-singing the other with a few fancy runs or a building high note creating the best kind of symphonies. The first time they make it through the song from beginning to end, harmonies, breaks and all - they both awe, too happy and impressed with themselves to even care that Baekhyun is ruffling his curly hair, or that Chanyeol’s arm has slid across his waist for a small hug.

“Thank you, really.”

“Now that definitely deserves a drink.” Baekhyun’s smile is blinding, his fingers are light on the nape of Chanyeol’s neck and it’s all the happy musician can do not to melt on the spot. He doesn’t know why or what will makes his grip tighten on the singer’s slim waist, pull him closer to nudge his nose in his hair.

Baekhyun’s other hand has landed on his thigh to stay balanced, and fuck he’s really beautiful.
“You stay here and play - I’ll make the drinks.”

“Alright. I only take mojitos, though.” Baekhyun hums, certainly the alcohol making his hand lightly squeeze the musician’s damn strong thigh. Chanyeol grins and pinches his waist before sliding out and walking towards the kitchen countertop.

Baekhyun places his fingers on the keys, heart shaking his ribcage with the force of a contained earthquake. His waist is still warm - he can still draw the exact shape of Chanyeol’s hand, like an imprint through his clothes. He plays something off the top of his head, his favorite ballad to ring through the windows, almost like it’s being carried out to skip across skyscrapers, spin through galaxies.

Chanyeol’s hands are shaking, and he knocks back a finger of the strong rum for himself because shit he’ll need one hell of an excuse for wanting to touch Baekhyun again - his slim, toned waist more than a treat for his hands. He finds himself almost clawing at the marble countertop to resist smashing a bottle because holy shit he’s probably gay for Byun Baekhyun. Looking up as he shakily pours the mojito, Baekhyun’s eyes are on the keys, on the window, lost in a beautiful trance and Chanyeol finds himself wanting to be a part of his bubble.

He makes his way to lean against the large window, sipping his own straight rum in one hand, Baekhyun’s colored cocktail in the other. When Baekhyun finishes his piece, Chanyeol hands him his drink with a mirrored smile.

“So I guess this rum was really worth it.”

Baekhyun sips his drink at nods. “It’s been a while since I hadn’t played. It’s so much fun singing with someone else.”
He then asks Chanyeol more about his tour, when he plans on releasing his album. Chanyeol informs him that he’ll definitely have to come to the studio to record it with him. Baekhyun hides his blush by shaking his head, saying he’ll have to check his schedule. Chanyeol doesn’t let him get away, folding himself across the piano to pout and plead. “I won’t do it with anybody else.”

“I’m serious, I’m busy.” Baekhyun all but hides his amused laugh.

“Baekhyun-ah… sing for me.” Chanyeol cocks his head with a loopsided smile. God he really was bad at alcohol.

“Chanyeol-ah, play the guitar for me.” Baekhyun reaches over to pat his cheek like a child.

And so that’s how Chanyeol ends up seated on a chair with his guitar, strumming a song. His voice carries so well, and all Baekhyun can do is look at him with a smile, chin in his hand. But he’s never one to be idle. He places his hands just over the keys when Chanyeol finishes, and asks if he knows any songs they could play together. Baekhyun says the Beatles, and Chanyeol says While My Guitar Gently Weeps. It’s no easy play, but Chanyeol doesn’t hesitate on a single note as he starts off, letting Baekhyun know which chords to sing, which to entertain.

Playing with another person is strangely intimate; because to make music together you have to be in tune with the other person, picking up their little nudges, being attentive to their needs, and you adjust your melody to follow them on whatever path they chose. So Baekhyun alternates between his fingers on the keys, and Chanyeol’s on his guitar - making sure to keep his touch light as not to drown the latter’s acoustic - sometimes his gaze passing to affirm Chanyeol’s next chord - and the latter is already looking at him - or his eyes are closed, head tossed back to expose a long column of white cartilage a small smile on his lips and he nods his head along to the music.

At the break, Chanyeol looks at Baekhyun with an encouraging nudge of his head, and softens his guitar slightly. Baekhyun shakes his head with a smile, and starts off on a solo, reveling in the full and powerful sound his piano makes - before tossing the ball back to the real musician, who goes off on a unique guitar solo, pulling twists and tears and scales running over one another in a beautiful acoustic touch. When he gently starts to come back to the chorus, Baekhyun picks up the pace, and they sing a powerful last refrain together, Baekhyun finishing the last line in a more gentle, sad tune, the last note ringing in the silence like a teardrop.

Baekhyun feels a strange thrill in his chest, the new perspective of music he’d never really acknowledged before then: a passion to be shared. It’s not easy for a soloist to always give up their spotlight, but in this case, chanyeol finds himself wanting to give it all up for Baekhyun - whose voice could easily out-do a whole wave of idol vocalists with one single line. He’s in raptures over this little gem he’s found - black hair, clothes, piano, but sparkling eyes and soft lips. It usually takes years of practice for a duo to work through a whole song as complicated as that - but with Baekhyun, they simply clicked. It’s just so easy getting in tune with the small singer - something almost as natural as picking up his guitar to strum a few chords he knows like the back of his hand.

He’s staring - maybe for too long - but Baekhyun smiles and stands, walking slowly over to Chanyeol as the musician starts to put his guitar away. They both exchange soft compliments, nothing more than a word or two but damn his eyes shine in ways far more brilliant than words could ever praise.

Baekhyun looks at the painting on his wall in a small break of bashfulness - and asks for the time. Judging by Chanyeol’s expensive wristwatch, it’s almost 8pm already. Winter night has long fallen across the city, and Baekhyun’s stomach - empty except for liquid dinner - is starting to cry.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Chanyeol opens his mouth, but then twists into a frown - like he wants to agree but his mom has plans. “I would but I’m on a strict diet for my next tour…” Ah, so not the mom - the manager. The musician rubs the back of his neck, mouth still silently open as though grasping for some way to accept nonetheless.

“For the tour? What are you going to do - give all the little girls a striptease for a twitter thirst trap?” Baekhyun smirks, but the musician’s ears seem to redden even more. He twists his feet as he mumbles, “It helps the albums sell faster.”

Baekhyun laughs. “Aw baby idol. You can choose where to order from then.”

Chanyeol’s head pops up again with that happy smile. “Really? Okay, I’ll let my manager know not to worry about me or anything.”

He moves away to make a quick phone call, and Baekhyun pulls out his own phone to start searching for possible healthy take out places to offer. Once his manager is satisfied with his excuse, Chanyeol comes back over, and immediately recommends a restaurant with plenty of low-calorie meals ; sautéed vegetables and baked meats.
Goody. Baekhyun forces a smile and lets him dial the number. He’s never been one to diet; his job mostly making him skip one or two meals until his secretary alarms him with the local bakery’s lunch boxes. Thank god for fast metabolism.

Chanyeol finishes their orders and joins Baekhyun on the couch with a sigh. “He said 30 minutes. God I’m starving, actually. Fucking diet.” He groans, hand painfully tight on his stomach. He’s wearing a sweater, but Baekhyun can vividly recall those lined muscles and tight skin stepping out from a morning shower.

“Don’t you at least have cheat days sometimes? You didn’t look like you really need a strict diet.”

Chanyeol grins at that. “Sure, but my manager puts a lot of pressure on me to keep my image or whatever…” His expression saddens. “Not a lot of people realize it, but I’d definitely say that the music industry is the one which puts the most pressure on you. Like, I’m a soloist so I don’t even really have a group to rely on when things suck, someone to fully relate to; it’s just pressure from the manager to pull out better songs every time, the fans who of love me sure, but who also expect top performances. So you end up dieting to strip onstage, start spending your money on drugs to get so fucked up you forget you’re lonely.” Chanyeol is staring at the ceiling, and Baekhyun feels like he could cry. There’s a heavy silence and Baekhyun can only think of breaking it with some lame comfort, “That’s true. I guess in business you either become a Wolf of Wall Street or just stressed and overworked. But you do get a break at the end of the day; no fans to run away from, at least.”

Chanyeol nods, before breaking his blank stare away to shake his head and look at Baekhyun. “I’m sorry for the mood storm; it’s just, today somewhat reminded me of how stressful my life can really be, and I didn’t realize how much I needed a proper break - not a vacation in some island; but just being able to really feel the music again, have fun with it with somebody else… it’s so different and refreshing… I just wanted to say thank you.” He gives him a shy, earnest smile, and Baekhyun finally feels that damn muscle in his chest twitch violently again, his lips mirroring a beautiful smile in return.

“No problem. I’m glad it helped you finish your song, and you can come over anytime you need a break, you know.” Baekhyun can’t believe his own words. Did he just… ?

“Seriously?”

What can you do before such a precious question, puppy eyes and big smile? Baekhyun was helpless. He’d give a world for Chanyeol’s smile. “Anytime.”

“Shit man, you deserve five bottles of rum, free cocktails, and a whole room of girls.”

Baekhyun laughs at Chanyeol’s peculiar thanks. “I’ll take the alcohol; you can keep the girls.”

To his surprise, Chanyeol scoffs. “You can’t fool me, Mr. Byun; you were more than happy to have that stripper in your lap last time.”

Baekhyun has to think for a minute - before biting his tongue to resist bursting out into laughter. Was he really talking about that time at the club when a girl had thrown herself onto him and Baekhyun saw a chance to make Chanyeol jealous because he’d gotten the girl (which, by the way, felt like he was fucking his sister) ?
Oh but Mr. Park, I have fooled you.

He lounges into the couch and smirks. “Yeah, she was hot. You sound like you’re almost jealous.”

“Of who?”

“You tell me.”

Chanyeol huffs and shakes his head. “Fine, you’re only getting the liquor. No girls for you.”

“I said you could have them.”

“I don’t want them.”

“Why not?”

“They’re nothing special.” The musician shrugs, crossing his arms behind his head as he leans back, sweater close to revealing a strip of boxers and rock muscle. Baekhyun needs a glass of water.

“It’s not easy keeping up with someone as special as you.” baekhyun laughs as he gets up to pour himself some water.

“Speak for yourself.”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “Cute.” Thank god his back is turned. He offers the musician a glass of water, and by the time they’re both peacefully sober drinking, the doorbell chimes.

However, instead of it being a random delivery man, it’s the doorman who brings the food to the door - basic precaution for the rich. He gives a blinding smile to Baekhyun, bowing, and asking how his day has been. Chanyeol is busy making himself scarce in the background - as well as a six foot musician can - but the doorman’s beady eyes narrow into daring little slits when he catches Chanyeol’s eye. Looking down at his sweater - the red and blue Hilfiger well on display, as well as his watch glinting in the lamplight - the man’s lips curl into a somewhat forced smile - resembling a cruel grimace more than anything - before bowing deeply, and wishing them both a lovely dinner.

Baekhyun closes the door and laughs when he turns around to find the poor musician wedged in the corner of the fridge and the countertop. The latter immediately steps out and neatens his hair, mumbling something about dust on his wall. Baekhyun happily lets him be embarrassed - already too busy retrieving bowls in his cupboard.

“Need any help, there?”

Baekhyun scoffs, pulling out two finely decorated bowls. “I think I’m more than capable of arranging my home to have everything to be at least conveniently at reach, so no, I really don’t.”

Chanyeol holds up his hands in surrender, getting to open the food instead. Steaming vegetables are lavishly laid over succulent pork - the box is snatched out of his hands.

“I believe this is my order.” Baekhyun smirks and Chanyeol groans.

“Man are you snappy when you’re hungry.”

Baekhyun immediately shuts up and focuses on transferring his food to the bowl with a frown. Chanyeol had just taken a jab too perfectly accurate at his hidden character and it wasn’t fair. The musician laughs at the businessman’s sudden pout.

“Don’t worry, this food will literally make everything so much better.” Chanyeol is practically drooling already as he flips his chopsticks into place.

“Hope you’re right.” Baekhyun sniffs and Chanyeol winks.

“Enjoy, sir.”

Baekhyun finally smiles at that, and the two are finally allowed to enjoy a delicious meal at 9pm on a friday night. They’re both too busy chewing and grinning at the exceptional taste to really bother with conversation much - but the little awkward silences, which are bound to settle in, are quickly cleared up rather naturally by one or the other asking about work, vacations, or clothes. Seeing as how both enjoy a relatively lavish lifestyle, it’s easy to find common ground in all kinds of areas - but in a more rich version, of course.

They had finished their meal and were on the topic of parties. Chanyeol was busy relating a crazy party with lots of high-ranked rappers of all sorts in Tokyo, and how one was so high on drugs he was talking to the pool flamingo, smashed a bottle of blue champagne and tried to run around naked before Chanyeol stopped him. Baekhyun laughs at the hero-promotion.

“Come on, I’m sure you were just as bad.”

Chanyeol exhales and shakes his head. “There was some wild shit at that place. I was seeing whole new spectrums of colors. Confused a girl for a guy and -” Chanyeol stops himself mid-sentence and nervously laughs. “It really wasn’t great - the morning, I mean.”

“They never are.” Baekhyun laughs but somehow the topic of girls always stings a little bit when it comes to Chanyeol.

“They are for the lucky person who gets to wake up next to me.” The idol winks and Baekhyun rolls his eyes and starts clearing the dishes.

“Sure; I bet all your girls love waking up to a drooling puppy who takes up all the space in the bed.” His sentence rings with a little more piqued jealousy than he thought it would.

“My girls?” Chanyeol raises a brow, somewhere between amused with underlying hurt. Baekhyun turns up his nose, pushing the bowls into the sink.

Chanyeol lets out a dry laugh. “There are only two girls who have been given the privilege to be called mine - and let me tell you, it still didn’t end pretty. All the others now,” he shrugs, picking up a chopstick to tap on the marble, “they’re nothing.”

Baekhyun can only hum and turn his back to start washing the dishes. “How poetic.”

Chanyeol snorts and Baekhyun hears him get up from the stool. “You wash your dishes by hand?” - is of course, the only possible way to follow up a sketchy topic.

And the only way to answer, of course, is by saying: “Of course, how do you think I get my arm workout in?”

Chanyeol actually laughs. “Alright damn, can I try then?” He asks, and suddenly Baekhyun sees a long arm reaching for the soap in front of him - a warmth daringly close to his back, a neck brushes the top of his head.

“No, fuck off, it’s my sink.” Baekhyun swats his arm away with a soapy hand, and suddenly, there are two arms caging him against the counter. He can feel Chanyeol’s warm chest pressed against his back, muscular arms close and firm against his sides. First of all, Baekhyun is confused. Second of all, the slight pressure has him unbalanced, leaning slightly forward on the counter, and it’s a very hot, very comprimising position.

Then, that stupidly deep voice just has to brush by his ear. “I bet you can’t get out.”

Two options now: either do that one trick which ends with said hot jerk rolling on the floor with a hand to his painful crotch - or do something really stupid and sexy. Baekhyun always likes to think of himself as a pacifist; so that’s his excuse for pushing his ass a little back to give himself some space to turn around - and fuck he didn’t think they would be this close.

Chanyeol’s tall frame blocks all the light, until all Baekhyun’s faced with is a shadow with golden thread lining his silhouette, splaying through his curled hair to sweep across his cheekbone - his eyes sparkle obsidian and Baekhyun is trapped. He’s winded, he can feel his fingers turn blue, cold as they curl into the counter ledge; he needs that golden skin, that honey smile on his tongue to breathe again - but he could never show that weakness.

“Why would you think I couldn’t get out?”

“Cuz you still look pretty trapped to me.” Chanyeol blurts out, and Baekhyun thinks it’s funny how he’s the one saying that with his large, lost puppy eyes. Baekhyun is one point up.

“Do I, really?” Baekhyun leans back a little, letting his hips jut out, his neck a little arched as the ledge digs into the bottom of his spine.

Chanyeol automatically leans in, to follow his mouvement, to follow him. There’s a slash of light which smiles on his skin, slopes over his gentle nose - but the big eyes are what makes Chanyeol shiver the most. Of course Baekhyun isn’t the one who’s trapped here; Chanyeol is. He’s hooked on those lips, that soft white skin, slender neck, the feel of his small frame melting against his.

“No.” Chanyeol breathes. He can’t stand it anymore. He’s being teased, completely at his mercy - it’s nothing like the little games he’d play with girls, where Chanyeol always knew he’d win anyway. Here, now, he feels nothing but aching need for this person to fill all his empty spaces, the gaps between the veins on his heart -
And Baekhyun’s pretty fingers have slid over his hoodie, just coming up to curl at the neckline.

“What are you doing Chanyeol?” Baekhyun whispers, but there’s something of a broken hitch in his voice which rips Chanyeol away from his lightened dream. He frowns, finds himself bringing his hands to rest against his back.

“I… You…” He stutters and bites his lip. Baekhyun smiles.

“Cat got your tongue?”

I wish you had my tongue - Chanyeol only thinks. “You literally spin my brain in all sorts of ways - at first I didn’t like it one bit, but now… Man you sing, you’re smart, you’re handsome and slim and shit Baekhyun I don’t even know -”

Baekhyun gently shushes his babble, the grin on his face however wide, the warm bubble in his core at the musician’s large hands on his waist however comforting, his shy dimple however heartwarming - Baekhyun keeps his hands still on the hoodie’s neckline. He won’t make the first move on a hetero, no matter how whipped he’s become.

Oh, but Chanyeol’s expression is starting to crumble, he’s starting to worry - dammit Baekhyun won’t let him slip through his fingers. He slowly lets his index circle the musician’s collarbone, follow a deeper line of cartilage up to his adam’s apple. He can feel his breath hitch, his nervous swallow rolling beneath his fingertip.

“You’re straight?” Baekhyun asks, and Chanyeol breathes a laugh.

“I’m definitely can’t think about girls when I’m with you.”

“I hope not.”

Chanyeol smiles and tentatively starts to lean down, just closing the gap halfway.

“You know you can always escape.” He says with a hush because if he speaks more than the wind, he’ll break the precious invisible glass they’re holding, just between their lips.

“I know.” Baekhyun also hums, pushing his body just a little straighter, just a little closer. “If you kiss me, you’re not straight, you know.”

“Don’t care.” Chanyeol breathes, his hand coming up to cup his jaw. “Please.”

“The magic word.” Baekhyun grins and finally, finally, pulls him closer, melts the invisible glass ball the same way he melts into Chanyeol’s lips. His touches are so careful at first - almost shy beginner style - and Baekhyun is almost confused before he realizes he’s probably never kissed a man before. It’s not complicated; it’s just better than any girl.

He breaks away for just a breath. “I’m not a flower, you know.” He says, nipping at Chanyeol’s god-red bottom lip. Chanyeol grins and pecks his nose.

“I’m taking my time. It’s… different kissing a guy.”

Baekhyun hums, his hand coming back around to slowly massage his scalp. “Don’t take too long.”

Chanyeol smiles, his arm wrapping more securely around his waist as he kisses again - like a man - and Baekhyun melts all over again. He lets himself fold into his touch, opening him up at the same time he lets him chase after him - god it’s so lush and brilliant when Baekhyun rolls his hips dangerously hot and that beautiful throat rips a low growl through Baekhyun’s gut.

Suddenly, he needs more. More of that smirk whimpering against his lips, that dripping muscle rolling beneath his hand, those large hands kneading into his flesh, more of that sweet tongue swiping, engulfing his mouth, his lips, teeth tongue, everything. Lust starts to creep through their veins, claim their oxygen and sense until Baekhyun’s hand has slid up Chanyeol’s hoodie, letting his nails trace hills and valleys of muscle and skin, coming down to rest at his belt.

They breaks apart, and Chanyeol’s full-blown pupils and wet lips is a sight Baekhyun would probably laugh at otherwise - but he knows he’s the exact mirror. He does smile, though, when the musician breathes his name in a voice far deeper, more enticing than Baekhyun could ever possibly imagine - the shorter purring like a kitten when he runs his hands through his hair.

“God you’re perfect.”

“Shut up, you’re better.” Baekhyun nuzzles his nose into his neck, letting himself bask in the warmth, the sharp cologne, the secure frame.

“You have to come sing with me now. No excuses.”

“Let me finish the dishes first.” Baekhyun says just for the fun of it, and Chanyeol’s scoff and sudden push leaves him in a laughing fit. The musician ignores the latter’s mockery and starts to finish cleaning the bowls himself in record time, wiping his soapy hands dry and turns around to Baekhyun who’s leaning on the other counter this time. Chanyeol starts to walk back to him, but Baekhyun turns away and starts walking away.

“Couch?” He says over his shoulder, and Chanyeol doubles his step, sitting on the couch before he can even get there. Baekhyun grins down at him and Chanyeol can feel himself just wanting to drop everything right then and there for him, and his head, heart and soul is fully gone when the latter settles himself to straddle his lap, tilting his chin up with a finger, granting him with several sweet smiling pecks before finally pressing his lips open in a deep kiss.

Baekhyun lets himself give everything he has in that kiss, lets all the music, the colors, the warmth pour from his tongue and dance from his lips for his favorite musician. It feels so perfect, so right just being settled against him like this, everything he’s dreamed of since that famous club night, no more flashing neon or buzzing alcohol; it’s only the two of them, the silence, the music, the passion cocooning them in this perfect little bubble - a forbidden fruit finally bursting the most succulent flavors on his tongue when Chanyeol leans further back, bringing him closer, closer, harder against him, Baekhyun’s hands in his hair, hips on his, Chanyeol’s hands shaping his svelte form as they press hard up the lines of his back.

It takes everything in him for Baekhyun not to completely chase after the flaming lust restless beneath his skin, not to grind against his hips and moan like he knows he can hook people underneath his finger in a second - he keeps himself still and careful, because he knows it’s still precarious, still just a wavering bubble so thin, so beautiful but so young - he can’t push it too far and risk losing everything.

He pulls away only a little bit - just enough to see Chanyeol’s dark eyes, but sad smile. He pouts, pressing Baekhyun a little closer to his hips and Baekhyun grins, nuzzling into his neck.

“I’ll record your song with you,” he says, coming up to put his lips hush close to the musician’s fine ear, “So I can show you all my talents.”

Chanyeol hums a smile at that. “That’s a very good promise.”

Baekhyun grins and leans back to sit a little further back, bringing Chanyeol’s hands between them, he laces their fingers together like a daisy chain. It’s suddenly sweet, and they exchange warm smiles, both looking at their hands fitted together - a little like how they should have been on the piano hours ago. Speaking of the time -

“Wow it’s already 10?” Baekhyun frowns at the musician’s watch, “I have work tomorrow.” he pouts, resting his forehead against the latter’s.

“Nooo please don’t kick me out.” Chanyeol whines and Baekhyun pecks his cheek, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles.

“I’m afraid I have to. But I seriously promise to come help you record your song, if you’d like.”

“You’re the best.” Chanyeol nuzzles his nose. “I’ll see with my manager when he wants to start recordings, and I’ll let you know. Should be before the end of the month.”

“Don’t see too many girls at parties until then.” Baekhyun says before thinking - and air suddenly lodges in his throat because it’s a sudden sort of claim, and maybe it’s too fast, but it’s true -

“I won’t.” Chanyeol doesn’t let him worry any longer as he answers, quick and firm. He detaches one of their hands to gently cradle Baekhyun’s jaw. “I won’t want any of them now.”

Baekhyun can’t help the smile which breaks out on his face, when he kisses the latter’s palm, even if it’s dangerous, even if it’s unsure, he doesn’t want anything to break this dream right now.

“Good.”

Chanyeol brings him in for a long, heartfelt kiss, his hand moving again to his waist, lower back, the curve of his thighs - Baekhyun grins against his lips and pushes lightly with a hand on his chest.

“You have a manager to go keep up with.” He says, gently breaking away fully this time, sliding off his lap to stand. He hates to admit he’s suddenly cold now, already misses that cocoon of warmth, and by the annoyed pout on the musician’s lips - he does too. Chanyeol eventually groans and stands.

“Fine, fine I’ll get out.” He trudges over to put his guitar back in its case like a moody teenager. Baekhyun laughs and pinches his side as he skips over to occupy himself with putting the piano carefully to sleep. He hands Chanyeol his notebook, and the two help each other put things away with only sly, playful pinches and flicks.

By the time everything is ready, Chanyeol has put on his shoes and Baekhyun has opened the door, there’s that departing dread which has sunk its teeth into their skin.

“Well, good luck with your diet, big man; make them all go blind to go buy your albums.”

“The album where your voice will be.” He tilts Baekhyun’s head by a finger on his chin, “And they’ll buy everything for the hot musician who’s already taken by that beautiful voice in their headphones.” He whispers, kissing Baekhyun soft.

It’s a declaration, a promise, and Baekhyun’s head is spinning with Chanyeol’s skin, his touch, his kiss, his cologne, his voice. It promises fires, and something more exposed than he’d realized; and suddenly he’s a bit scared.
The straight, handsome idol, kissed a man. The beautiful musician held him like a flower; kissed him like a lilly, and smiled into his neck like a rose. Baekhyun only wished there weren’t any thorns.

Chanyeol notices his silence, and pulls away with a careful expression. His fingers thread through his hair, and Baekhyun holds his other hand on his cheek.

“Guess this is what Sehun and Kai were talking about… risking it all.”

Chanyeol shakes his head with a smile. “Apart from my sexuality, we’re not risking anything yet.” He kisses Baekhyun’s forehead, “Don’t worry about anything yet. Just come sing with me, and let’s have fun okay?”

Baekhyun nods, a little more reassured. Chanyeol leans down to kiss him one last time, melting sugar on Baekhyun’s tongue for a lifetime.

They break apart and Chanyeol says goodbye, stepping past the doorway. He turns around, and something about seeing his tall frame starting to walk down the corridor makes Baekhyun snap. He immediately catches up to him, turns him around by the shoulder - narrowly missing the guitar case on his back - grabs him by the collar and pulls him down for a hard kiss.

Chanyeol gasps against his mouth, then chuckles, but Baekhyun finds himself suddenly stubborn; shoving his thigh between the latter's for a hard grind, earning a surprised moan, quick hands on his ass to pull him closer. It’s hot, heavy and deep, and Chanyeol finally breaks away for some air, looking a little bewildered and breathless.

“Hallways are hot, but my recording room is better.” He nips at Baekhyun’s neck, breathing into his ear when the latter lets out a whine, “Soundproof.”

Baekhyun feels flames grow hotter and more desperate in his guts at the idea, but he’s also aware that he’s also desperate to make Chanyeol stay. But he has to go.

“Please…” Baekhyun breathes into his neck, hand curled at the collar. He doesn’t know what he wants, what he needs, but Chanyeol somehow understands everything, somehow can be the only one to know to gently rub at his waist and whisper against his lips.

“I promise.”

Baekhyun laces their fingers together, kisses each knuckle goodbye, kisses his beautiful musician goodbye, and he blinks and all he’s left with is a lingering warmth on his waist, a lingering promise on his lips and the sound of the elevator doors closing on a tall, sad smile.

“Promise”

-------------------------

It’s mid December and the Juun J. office has never gleamed more brilliantly from all the Fashion Week profits, the happy investors and positive energy radiating throughout the building. Even the windows seem to have a crystal sheen, the plants perked up, happy flowers turned to the grey winter sun as though it were summer. Jongin admires the view of it all from the conference desk as the intern, Minghao, sets up the paper board for moments of improvised schemes, and the official presentation projected on the wall.

When the board streams in, they all shake hands, greeting the CEO with sincere smiles, passing questions about his personal life - each too caught up in their own new Vuitton bag to really care about how the other person was doing in their life - but at least they were happy. October had gone well, and each business advisor, finance manager, and top contacts took their seats - all were proud to be sitting at the table with the man who had dinner with Michael Burke, who made headlines within seconds of his innovative designs, who could promise them all a safe trip to a rich havana. It’s a pretty illusion, Jongin figures. If they can stay happy with him all the way through Paris fashion week, keep that same team spirit strong for the collaboration with his “rival”, it’ll save all of them a whole lot of loss. So, he needs to gain their complete confidence. Through sickness and through health, they had better stay with him; because divorce is a bitch to pay up.

“Thank you for coming to this meeting today.” Jongin flashes his best smile. “Juun J. has seen it’s best stocks after October - and things are only going to get better for our image with Paris in March, and a collaboration with a special rising company later in June.” There’s a slight stir at the mention of a ‘special’ rising company - choice words - but Jongin carries on.

“Paris shall be discussed next week, as you all know, because it takes much longer to design things to work with another style, than it is to create our best outfits.” Minghao clicks to the first slide; pictures from years ago, on the company’s first collaboration.

“Juun J. has had several collaborations in the past; starting from the famous genderless Heta, to the exclusively female KYE as well as Kuho. Our most recent collaborations have been exclusively female, so logically our next step should be either unisex or male.” Jongin takes a small breath - now, came the delicate part. Justifying his choice of brand in a somewhat objective manner.

“Nohant is a new company, but in less than two years has gained enormous popularity with the idols, as well as streetwear, and would maybe boost our image to the newest, fashionable generation. Unfortunately, the media has created a rather rocky image behind the fashion success; and I’ll be the first to admit it was my fault, and I’d like to present my excuses once again to you all. My mouth caused more than a couple worries for this company as well as his. We decided to team up during the last couple months to straighten things out and hopefully clean up our image together - especially since Nohant is a fresher company, it’s harder on his stocks more than it is on ours-”

“Excuse me sir, but when you say ‘his’ ; you’re referring to Nohant’s CEO, Oh Sehun, right?” Some new investor interrupts.

“Of course.” Kibum answers for him, a slight smirk on his lips.

Jongin burns with momentary shame. “Yes, pardon my imprecision.”

The investor settles back in his seat with an impossible simper, and Jongin is about to finish his wild defense on his completely personal choice - when the modeling agent raises her hand.

“I find Nohant’s style to be too different from Juun J.’s to be able to make anything with it.”

Jongin never liked her, to be honest. He chuckles. “Of course, I have to start with how it’s possible and how it’s going to sell.” He goes over to Minghao to ask for various pictures of Nohant’s fashion weeks, and gestures for Kibum to come up to present the more fashion side of things; one thing about trust, is having experts to back you up.

“You must be thinking of their spring collection two years ago; very hip-hop, more streetwear than luxury. If I had seen this show, I wouldn’t have spared it a second glance either.” Kibum waves his hand with an unimpressed frown, and Minghao clicks to the next slide; Nohant’s open-house runway.

Here, Kibum shows a little more interest. “Their style that month was somewhere in between; you can see the silk jackets starting to show, a bit more class mixed with modern simplicity. It’s just the beginning of their affirmation as a brand, but it’s off to a rather good start. This open-house made headlines, and got a breaking record amount of Livestreams; thanks to their connections with idols who also modeled for them.” Jongin thanks his lucky stars to have someone as put-together as Kibum on his side. The designer finishes by presenting the last slide.

“And here, was their fashion week in October - in case you missed it. They managed to find the perfect balance between modern streetwear and luxurious simplicity. One editor praised them as following Chanel’s quote of ‘Luxury must be comfortable, otherwise it is not luxury’. Here, they showcased a remarkable Parisian style - maybe thanks to Burke’s appearance - showing something comfortable, chic, as well as a touch of something a little more edgy.”

Jongin finally steps in to link the two. “Juun J.’s biggest critique has always been that our clothes don’t appeal enough to the younger generation, or that they aren’t practical enough to wear at all. A collaboration with a company who’s famous for just that could help us with a new side of things, offer and surprise new clients for a broader spectrum. And on their side, we, as a stable and well-reputed brand, can give them tips on how to bring Seoul fashion to the world.”

There’s a nodding silence, and the modelling agent frowns. “And why should we give them our secrets on how to grow and expand? They’re still our competition.”

“Because, Kyuna, competition only gets you bad mouths, and negative images. This is one of the worst industries for that, I know, but sometimes it’s better to remember what we’re here for; Fashion. Fashion is an art. It’s an art which is almost as diverse as music; so many different colors, genres, styles, it’s a huge mess, and we’ll spit on eachother for it and all try to get the magazine headline first, but at the end of the day, we’re all in it for the form of expression. We express our culture, our passions, our moods and thoughts through clothes like a painter does with canvas, like a musician does with his guitar - and each individual fashion house deserves to be heard, and deserves to express their passion and culture through their clothes.

“Do you know how I managed to land a spot at Paris fashion week; in a country so far and so different from ours? Because of contacts. Because there were people, dignified, so stable and sure in their art that they didn’t need to be jealous of anyone else. They only see the pure fashion, the raw expression which we have to show; and they want others to experience it too; to broaden their vision onto a new world. It’s Korea’s turn to speak and it can only be heard if you push aside all the media, all the competition, all the images because fashion is an experience, and it’s beautiful, but you can only truly see it and succeed if you live it together.” Jongin lets himself breathe at the end, but a newfound pride swelling in his chest at his own words, and the pleasing reaction of surprised, and satisfied smiles.

“I hope you’re convinced, Kyuna.” Kibum looks down at her with a slight smirk curling his lips. The agent sucks in a breath, but gives a curt nod.

“If you’re worried about the model’s comfort; I’m sure you can ask Jaehyun or Jun - they both modeled for the collaboration with KYE if I’m not wrong - how they felt with the style, the comfort, and the clothes.” Kibum does reassure her a bit before Jongin claps his hands together.

“Yes, now, all that said and done, do I have everybody’s consent to move ahead with a June summer collaboration with Nohant?”

He looks at each person seated at the table, asks for their heartfelt opinion on the matter. Some do look a bit hesitant, but are quick to sigh and smile, say they trust their CEO. Bingo. One two, three - all around the table; ending on Kibum and Minghao who rushes out in a surprised murmur how he thinks it’ll be well received by the public. God how Jongin hope so. Still, he can’t help the happiness which sparks his fingers at the official deal; he’s going to work with Sehun.

With a cheek-splitting grin, he opens his arms as though to hug all the members around the table. “Thank you! Well, if you don’t mind then, we can get started on simple outfit outlines now, Kibum - and start contacting Nohant to plan exact meetings to match up ideas and such.” He turns to Minghao who’s already ready at hand. “I need the entire design team here in 20 minutes with the final plans for Paris; fabrics are supposed to be shipped out next week anyways - so we can separate the fall-winter collection from the collab, and start the outlines to send to Nohant.”

Minghao nods, memorizing the order before ducking out the door to complete the mission. Jongin turns back to his crowd and smiles one last time. “Thank you all for coming today, even if it was short, I’m glad we managed to all agree to the point. If there are any problems regarding anything from Christmas sales to other issues, please feel free to stay and inform me. If everyone is satisfied, I can call this meeting to an end.”

Most of them get up, shake his hand and take their leave. A few stay and ask him about the winter decorations around the building, or if there were any plans to change the annual christmas party. He was expecting more serious matters such as another illness in the factory, or hell even a bad editor’s magazine - but visibly, all was well in Juun J.’s little world.

Once the designers filter in with all their papers and tilting cappuccinos, Jongin feels like he can finally relax in his favorite trance of lines, photos, colors and materials. It’s like a sort of aesthetic trance more than work, enough to suck up all his time from 30 minutes to three hours. They all talk about their experiences with the cold, and how this certain jacket would sell well, how comfortable and chic it is for fall.

Slowly, Jongin gets them to transition from winter to summer once he’s fully satisfied with the designs and promising outfits for the french runway mid-January. He gets them to talk more light, feathering stuff; chiffon material and cotton shorts. Minghao somehow managed to dig up the lookbooks of their past collaborations to refresh their ideas on how it all works. By the end of the day, the design bureau had been turned upside down in a mayhem of sketches, new ideas to work with Nohant’s particular slim style beginning to emerge like a small flower, and the Paris designs to be extravagant.

“So, the orders will be sent to the factory tomorrow, and all the fabrics will be shipped out and will be put to work next week. Modeling runs and shoots will be end of December - to avoid a huge cram beginning January. Everything has to be set by January 7th.” Jongin affirms for the Paris week, and all the designers nod, some hiding their yawns. It was rather past office hours and Jongin apologizes. “That’s all everybody. Thank you so much for today, you’re a great team, stay fresh for tomorrow!”

All the employers wave goodbye and within five minutes the place is empty, save for the smell of paper and coffee crisp on his shirt as he and Kibum finally sigh, exhausted yet satisfied, with their work.

“That was an impressive speech you gave back there. I’m almost sad I didn’t record it.” Kibum smiles and Jongin laughs.

“I surprised myself. Turned out better than I thought it would. I’m just glad it convinced them.”

“Glad you get to work with Mr. Oh now, more importantly.” Kibum winks and Jongin shoves his shoulder.

“You know too much.”

“I dare you to tell me that you two aren’t dating and planning to go public after this collab.”

Jongin halts. He expects the heart in his chest to jump out, seize, do terrifying flips - but instead, it’s only a small surprise. He’s comfortable. He owns up to it. The realization draws a smile on his lips.

“I never do dares.”

Kibum grins and slaps the back of his head. “Ah you little bugger. You’re too cute. And not very discreet. But I guess it dampens the shock.” He hums and seems to think about something. “But do you honestly believe your own words then at the conference? Or is this purely out of personal interest?” It’s an open question; without any judgement - yet.

“I really don’t think I can say something that profound off the top of my head without believing it. I’m always passionate about fashion, and I definitely do believe in its universal language, and how it can only be a benefit to our country, to our culture if we’re able to show our talents and voice through fashion. The more companies who can do it; the better. We’re the first in the industry to land a spot at Paris Fashion Week, so I really don’t think it’s of use to be jealous and petty anymore; we’ve basically won them all.” Kibum smiles at that and Jongin blushes. “Nohant really does have the talent, and Sehun has been getting a lot of good contacts outside of the country to boost him to the top - and I love him so a collaboration with us would enforce his image, give his company the best of success, and that’s all I wish for him because he deserves it.”

Kibum chuckles. “A little biased there, but I do see your point.”

“They don’t have to know that just yet.” Jongin winks and Kibum shakes his head.

“Wow, you two really are a pair, huh. I’m all for your side - I’ve always been - but you do know you both have to be careful, still.”

“It’s not easy, I know. But we’ll give it our best shot. And besides, we’re better than korean standards; we’re going to Paris baby.”

Kibum grins and they do a handshake, finishing with a hug. “Oh how I’m lucky to have such a humble CEO.” Kibum jokes.

“And I have the smartest designer in town.” Jongin ruffles his hair.

“Speaking of CEOs, don’t you have your own to call about a certain collaboration?”

Jongin checks the time. 7pm, Sehun might answer if he’s not having dinner. “I love you, Key, but I’m not calling him in front of you yet.”

Kibum rolls his eyes. “Fine, don’t call your boyfriend, and come out and have dinner with your hot designer instead.” he says, throwing a flirtatious wink.

Jongin raises a brow. “I hope you’re not expecting me to say no because I’m chained to a jealous boyfriend.”

“I never said that.” Kibum pouts, innocent.

“I’d love to have dinner with my colleague.” Jongin grins.

Kibum sticks out his tongue and skips out of the room. “Good because I’m hungry. I’m thinking french dishes?”

“I’m definitely in.” Jongin gets up, grabbing his coat and bag from his office, and the two happily go out for dinner in a lovely fake brasserie in town. They both indulge on some champagne and crême brulée, Kibum begging for Jongin to take pictures of him to send to Sehun for a glimpse of a jealous boyfriend; his favorite entertainment.

Eventually, Jongin does take a picture - and he’ll be the first to admit his designer is rather elegant, sipping a glass of sparkling alcohol, his jawline finely defined in the candle shadow. He sends it because of course, jealous Sehun is also his favorite Sehun - but for Kibum, all he needs to know is that now that he’s sent a picture, he owes his CEO the bill.

Stomach and wallet still properly full, Jongin gets home in the best of moods, calling his favorite number as he lays on his bed, his small poodle curls into his side.

“Well well, how was dinner?”

“Perfect actually; we went to that nice french restaurant, had crème brûlée and champagne. He paid.” Jongin grins, but what he doesn’t expect is the sudden silence, followed by a dry laugh on the other end.

“Glad you two had fun.”

“Are you seriously jealous?” Jongin asks cautiously.

“I know it was Kibum, Jongin. God, as though i’d ever believe you would chest on me with your most trustworthy colleague. I’m not jealous of him.” he hears him take a deep breath on the other end.

“But…?”

“I don’t know it just… hurt to see everybody else be able to go out with you, completely normal and everything… I know it’s stupid and small and I know it’ll be over soon but for now some things just hurt still… whatever, it’s nothing - forget about it.”

Jongin feels his heart tear a little at Sehun’s defeated confession. He wants to apologize and say the same thing he’s been saying for the past months, but he knows Sehun is probably sick of hearing it.

“Well, I was going to call you to ask if we could start planning meetings for the collaboration. We got a couple good outlines today and I want to see how we can match up as soon as possible; it’ll take their minds off Paris for a few days, at least.”

“Always the efficient businessman.” Sehun says, and Jongin is relieved at the more upbeat tone in his voice. “I’m going to hold my conference on it tomorrow. Our employees might not be busy for a Paris fashion week, but are just starting to get into the Christmas orders and everything - I can only hope they take the collaboration well.”

“It was a close call for me at first; everybody on the board were still fresh out of the fashion week success, they had their noses turned up a little at the thought of collaborating with a new streetwear brand - no offense.”

“Well we’ll see how eager my team is to have to deal with a bunch of haute couture fashion snobs.” Sehun laughs.

“I managed to bring them down to earth with a long speech about fashion and competition to convince them - I sounded like a president. Maybe you could take a couple notes from me.”

“Maybe you can keep dreaming, Mr. Kim.”

“I don’t need to dream to see your employees’ faces when they hear they get to collaborate with Korea’s most innovative and international fashion house.” Jongin smirks.

“You’ve paraded that title like a trophy for god knows how long. Humility isn’t one of your qualities.”

“I can’t be humble face with my rival; then things wouldn’t be fun anymore would they?”

“True. By the way, don’t think your precious title is praised by everyone at my company either.”

“Jealous, baby. They should thank me for bringing you into the dangerous world.”

“Worth it.”

They laugh together. “So when can our two teams meet up to start things?”

Sehun hums on the line. “I have to check, but I think we’re kind of busy this week, let’s see… I can do next Tuesday?”

“Tuesday works. I’ll ask my team what time works for them, but for now let’s say lunch to start things off nice and easy?”

“Lunch might be a bit too direct, don’t you think?”

“Our past collaborations have always been with higher brands, and we would usually start off with a casual meeting ; and in this case in particular, I think a more neutral ground would be best. If we start off with a conference in either your or my office, it’ll be a little more pressure on the arriving brand.”

“Alright, fair enough; lunch it is. When do your employees get off work?”

“It varies, but I think the design team in particular get off at 12.”

“Okay, I’ll reserve a restaurant then.”

Jongin nods and lets slip a yawn - which he’s too late to cover up before Sehun laughs on the phone. “I’ll email you. Get some rest tonight.”

“Fine.” Jongin whines, burying his head in his tiny poodle’s fur. “Guess that gives me more time to dream of working with you.”

Sehun clicks his tongue. “Not a dream soon.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Oh.”

“Sleep tight, babe.”

Jongin laughs and they both exchange gushy “I love you”s, before Jongin hangs up to let himself fall into a peaceful sleep.