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#the way he cutely and slowly picks up the bowl and chopsticks all sleepy looking

katsukikitten · 3 years

Text

Part 5

For once in your life, your eyes slowly open, only having been disturbed by warm morning sunlight. The soft comforter trapping your body heat and essentially you, as it pinned you to the soft mattress. You snuggle deeper into the sheets, breathing in the smell of clean linen and caramel.

Wait. Caramel?

With a jolt you jump from the bed, eyes wide as you look for the source of the scent. Patting down your jeans and shirt for at least one knife. You hardly remember what happened after dinner with his family. You remember booze, light conversation while feeling warm and floaty. Oh shit what was that passive that activated again? Rest assured?

"Info on rest assured." You grumble, voice soft from disuse. Your quirk happily pulls up a little informational box that you can see. Too sleepy to make the box private as it reads aloud to you.

"PASSIVE BUFF REST ASSURED. A newly unlocked buff that increases sleep quality and can only be activated around trusted individuals and safe places. Would you like a list?"

You stare at the question box with a flashing yes or no before you point with the tip of your knife to yes.

"Currently there is only one thing listed. Type : Individual Name: Bakugou Ka…."

"Oi." Someone calls from the front door of the apartment as you dismiss the information with a wave of your hand. He discards his boots at the door before making his way to his bedroom.

"You talking to yourself dumbass?" He says, blocking your only exit by leaning on the door jamb. He holds an iced coffee towards you, his eyes sharp as he adds.

"We need to talk about your file."

Crossing his arms you ignore his offer of iced appeasement, he sets it on the low dresser as you speak.

"It's not up for discussion."

"I'm your boss, I deserve to know."

"What you deserve to know is what's in that file. My whole life doesn't fit into a manila fucking folder. Quit asking questions."

"I'll ask what I want." He growls, "Because it's suspicious that you have this unbelievably complex quirk and yet I'm sure your top skills have nothing to do with stealing."

"If you're that concerned then ask the director of the program. I'm not the only secret 'reform'." You throw your hands into the air is exasperation

"He showed up dead shortly after you were inducted. Plus no one has any real record of what you've done. Not a single thing listed on what you've stolen."

"Talk to Deku then, he's next in line for that program, he ain't dead."

"He said he doesn't remember approving your file." He bites back and before you can retort strong fingers wrap around your wrist. His calloused pads brush over the cool metal of your bracelet.

"RECOGNIZED, BAKUGOU KATSUKI : NEW LIMITED ACCESS GRANTED. 1. Health and Condition status, upon request 2. Top five skills 3. Buffs that would benefit Bakugou Katuski. 4. Pending buffs to be activated by host. Please state a number."

"Two." "Cancel!" You try to shout over him but he beats you to it. The bracelet opens up a little box displaying your top five skills as of late.

"Stab resistance, poison resistance, what would a thief need those for? Stealth is number three and slight of hand is number five. Shit don't add up Princess." He glares while your nostrils flare, ripping your wrist away from his grip.

"You're really fucking pushing it…" He takes a step towards you while you step back as if it were part of a dance as you try so hard to keep your wrath in check.

"Am I? Like I said, shit ain't adding up. You have this bracelet that still has limited information to your quirk, support knows nothing of the recordings or god damn blocks you've placed on it and lastly…" Your knees hit the back of the back of the bed causing you to sit on the mattress. His rough palms come to lie flat against the fabric next to your thighs as he leans in. You fight to shrink back.

"Lastly, I deserve to know how an unnamed woman, who obviously knew you, turns up dead moments after I arrive on scene and then her body is gone in a matter of minutes. She poisoned you with a complex concoction that the lab in the agency has yet to figure out the formula to it and yet you knew the fucking antidote? What did you really do?"

Rage boils in your blood as you stare into his vermilion eyes. Like flipping a switch you turn ice cold, your breath mingles with his.

PASSIVE BUFF SHARP TONGUE ACTIVATED INSULTS DEALT WILL HAVE 39% MORE STING.

"You know what's funny? You don't see me asking how you became a manager with your shitty attitude. Nor do you see me asking how you manipulated and gaslit your way to the number one spot." You press your cheek against his as your lips graze his ear, "And you sure as hell don't see me asking how you're considered a hero at all after you told Izuku to kill himself in middle school."

The scars in his chest and stomach roar to life, demanding attention as his shirt scrapes against the sensitive skin. He takes a step back as if struck while the room begins to smell of smokey spiced caramel. His bones groan as his knuckles bloom white.

You smile as you stand, collecting your bag and the jacket he lent. Even grabbing the iced coffee he got you. Because why let it go to waste?

Cruelty slips onto your shoulders as nicely as his borrowed jacket while you pause at his bedroom door wanting nothing more than to leave him with terrible thoughts.

"Did you ever even apologize for that?"

Silence is your answer as you chuckle to yourself.

"Didn't think so."

You leave him with those nasty thoughts. Long gone as he still pants, pain shooting through his gut and lungs as it did all those fucking years ago.

As he moved without a second thought and placed himself in front of a stupid, dopey mop top boy who tried to hold up the weight of the world by himself.

With a guttural growl he looks over his destroyed room, as if a bomb went off.

He reaches for his phone dialing the number he never bothered to save.

"Meet me at our usual when you get off your stupid fucking shift. I know you've forgotten to eat you useless hero." The other line chimes in with a deep laugh as he adds.

"Okay Kaachan. I'll be there."

Izuku doesn't get invited out often and especially not by Bakugou. So the emerald haired boy decides to keep an eye on his oldest friend. Silently watching and not glancing too long as hot head huffs and puffs, taking another shot. The ash blonde's favorite spicy ramen goes untouched as the large man across from him slurps up his fourth bowl, covered in sweat and dirt from the day's work.

"You better get my fucking money's worth of this endless ramen bowl shit." He bites, slamming down another shot, fingers subconsciously finding the old scar on his chest. The action does not go unnoticed by his more docile friend. Izuku thanks the waiter as he starts on his fifth bowl.

"I'm starting to think you're mad about more than the endless ramen you ordered me." Bright emerald meet dark garnet eyes that glare, Bakugou's cheeks burn in his buzz.

"Fuck you. Nothin's wrong." Another deadly shot.

"That's your seventh. Kaachan you can't fool me. Your body language gives it away." Bakugou follows Izuku's eyes to his fingers. Quickly he removes his calloused pads from the divot. Angrily staring at the wall like a child who's been caught.

"Fuck you." He murmurs, silence settles over the pair in the far back corner of the restaurant. Bakugou's eyes glance over to Izuku who continues to eat, crimson bore into the scars on his arms from where the dumbass had broken them time and time again. His scars burn with your words, with the memory of what he's said in the past.

Too cruel and for what?

"You know I'm-" Bakugou starts but Izuku holds up a hand, wanting to spare his friend.

"I know, you've shown me everyday, even before you jumped in front of me, Kaachan. I've always known." He leaves it at that, in his heart he knows that Bakugou is sorry. He's seen it in every action since their first year at UA, he doesn't need to hear him say it.

What good are words when actions spoke louder?

"So what's bothering you? Worried over someone? You're dating Rogue now right?" Izuku asks, holding his chopsticks at a point while Bakugou takes another shot.

"Her file is what's bothering me. Deku, she doesn't have a fucking thing of her past. Not to mention you don't even remember signing off on her. Real responsible." Bakugou watches with a dull snarl as Izuku goes back to slurping his noodles.

"Ka...Kaachan." Izuku chokes, "Not fair. They put a lot of your desk too and I bet you don't remember half of it."

"I'd remember something like that. Just makes it that much more suspicious. Probably foraged by someone but the question is who…." Katsuki sets his head in his hand, staring at his orange broth.

"Well, did you ask her yourself?" Bakugou scoffs in response.

"Yea, and it didn't fucking turn out well." His finger finds his stomach this time, the ghastly white crater suddenly irritated by the fabric of his shirt. Izuku stops eating, he isn't stupid and easily connects the dots. The soft man thinks back a decade of his friend is the worst condition but more worried about him.

"Kaachan…" Deep jade eyes water a bit but Bakugou puts up a hand

"Don't." He barks, sighing.

"So you must really care about her if whatever she said affected you that much. You weren't even bothered when they were trying to 'cancel' you." Izuku taps Bakugou's bowl with his chopsticks, silently begging the blonde to eat. Hopping he'll take at least a bite to soak up some of that alcohol. Reluctantly deadly fingers pick up the sticks, gathering ramen between them but still undecided if he should eat.

His silence is answer enough for Izuku.

"I know my agency started the program. I'll look into it some more tomorrow. I'll be mostly office duty since I have so much paperwork anyway. But even if her past is dark Katsuki, what are you going to do? She may not have had any say in the matter, she doesn't give me that evil vibe."

Bakugou thinks back to you. How you fight, how you hold yourself.

How cute you were sleeping on his shoulder before he eased you onto his lap. How softly you snored in his bed. His stomach twists, Izuku's words and yours floating around his head.

"I guess I'll decide once I have more answers." With that the blonde decides to bring the spicy noodles to his lips.

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #bnha au #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bnha imagine #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #too good to be true

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koala-otter · 4 years

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Hi! This is the main blog for hurricanezukka and thank you for the fic rec and making me aware of your amazing writing last night! I saw you were taking prompts and was wondering if you could do a cute short fic about my headcanon that Zuko does The Dance™ when he eats food he likes and Sokka seeing it for the first time and having a gay meltdown bc it's too cute for him to handle? Either way thank you for cheering up my night! 🥰

Oh my gosh hi again!! Thank you so much! I’m so happy you liked it! And I hope you’re feeling better :)

I love this headcanon a lot a lot, and I really wanted to do it justice. I hope it’s everything you imagined!

Zuko does The Dance™ when he eats 1.2k words

It’s going to be a long night, Sokka realizes on his way to the Fire Lord’s chamber, and Zuko likely hasn’t eaten, so he asks one of the attendants at the door to bring dinner for the two of them.

“Something easy,” Sokka explains as he strides into the chamber, “that Zuko will definitely like. Maybe komodo chicken?”

He doesn’t think about it again until later, after he’s been ushered through the antechamber into a salon where Zuko sits on the floor in front of a low table. A pile of scrolls lies in front of him, and he keeps looking at the topmost one as he fills another sheet of paper with his carefully practiced characters. Sokka sits across from him and covertly moves the inkstone and stick away from Zuko’s sleeve.

Zuko looks up at him in alarm.

“Wow, look at you, it seems like you’ve gotten a lot done already on your own,” Sokka says encouragingly. He grabs the stack of papers on the far side of the table and hefts them meaningfully, raising his eyebrows at Zuko.

“There’d be more done if you got here earlier,” Zuko says pointedly, though they both know he isn’t actually angry. He avoids the view of Sokka’s contracting biceps he knows is meant to distract him.

“Hey, you asked me to take the meeting with the Hubei governor,” Sokka reminds him. He drops the stack on the floor next to him with a thud reminiscent of a camelephant foot hitting the ground.

The left side of Zuko’s face quirks up in a grin. “And now that you know him so well, you can be the one to respond to his letter,” he says. He hands Sokka his own sheet of paper and one of the scrolls.

“You’re joking,” Sokka says. He unfurls the scroll. “He sent one, too?”

“Everyone’s sending congratulations, Sokka,” Zuko says, borderline impatiently. “There’ve been hawks coming every hour since your dad made the announcement.”

Sokka sighs. “I guess this is what I get for being engaged to the Fire Lord.” Sokka hears a huff and looks up to find Zuko with his one eyebrow raised, unimpressed. Sokka breaks into a toothy grin. “Not that it isn’t absolutely, completely worth it.”

Zuko lowers his face back down toward his paper in an attempt to hide the small smile on his face, and Sokka looks smug as he picks up his own brush and starts writing.

Only a little while later, the double doors open, and a litter of servants enter the salon bearing several trays. Zuko stares, his mouth agape, as an attendant sets a soban table next to the two men, and the rest of the litter begin laying dishes on its surface. There is not only komodo chicken, but also squirrel-fried fish, sticky rice and komodo rhino sausage wrapped in lotus leaf, fresh green cucumber with garlic and red chilies, hippo-beef dumplings, and even Zuko’s favorite Earth Kingdom delicacy, fried dough filled with sweet red bean paste. One last servant presents them with a bowl of elaborately sliced mangoes, bananas, and cherries, and a pot of jasmine tea, before going to stand with his colleagues.

“I hope these humble leftovers will be to your liking—” The senior attendant pauses; Sokka’s term of address is still a little ambiguous, especially in light of his recent engagement to the Fire Lord. Does one still consider him an ambassador, or is his status now that of a royal? “Sir,” the attendant finally settles on.

Zuko finally regains his ability to speak. “What is all of this?” he asks. He stares at the spread in a daze.

“It’s for you,” Sokka says kindly before turning to address the attendants. “This is great! Thank you.”

The attendants bow and leave the room, closing the doors quietly behind them. Sokka resumes his writing. Zuko still stares at the food.

“Why?” he finally asks.

“I figured you needed to eat,” Sokka says simply. He gestures to the dishes with the back of his brush. “You should start.” He grins cheekily. “I’ve still got a lot of catching up to do on my letters.”

“You do,” Zuko agrees, and he considers waiting for Sokka to join him, or insisting he start eating first. But the fragrance of the rice calls a little louder, and Zuko picks up his chopsticks and eagerly analyzes the dishes before him for his first bite.

For a while, all Sokka hears while he writes his replies is the stroke of his brush on paper and the sound of Zuko’s chopsticks occasionally tapping together. But then there is something else, something he’s never heard before and that he cannot place, like a rustling of fabric, but not quite as loud and more regular. and Sokka raises his head slowly out of curiosity.

Zuko looks sleepy, as he normally does when he stays up this late, with half-lidded eyes and a looseness about his shoulders. But he is also smiling. Contentment softens the lines of his face as he chews his food and his chopsticks float above the dishes, preparing for his next selection. Each bite is rewarded with a brief squeezing of his eyes shut, and a little sway, before he resumes a curious motion Sokka doesn’t understand at first glance. Zuko bobs up and down to some silent beat, his head moving in one direction and then another, and his free hand idly moving in tandem with the rest of his body.

Sokka realizes all at once that Zuko is dancing.

His mouth drops open slightly and his chest seizes at the sight of his betrothed, one of the fiercest firebenders in the world and the most powerful man of his nation, dancing during his dinner. If he were a crying man, Sokka would be moved to tears, but he’s instead simply, painfully overwhelmed with the desire to sweep Zuko into his arms, or to tie him to the bed, or just cradle him and keep him from the rest of the world. The little movements of his body, the sweet joy of his gaze on the food, the sway of his hair are all too much for Sokka to think about literally anything else, and the scroll slips from his hand and falls to the ground, forgotten.

Zuko stops dancing at the sound and looks up at Sokka, blinking slowly.

“Sokka?”

Sokka's mouth doesn’t work yet, and he simply gazes at Zuko, pure adoration shining from his eyes.

Zuko misreads it.

“What, is there something on my face?” he asks self-consciously. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, worry furrowing his brow. “It’s not my fault there’s so much sauce on squirrel-fried fish.”

Sokka finally shakes himself out of his reverie, and he smiles lovingly at Zuko. “You’re perfect,” he says earnestly, and he leans across the table to kiss Zuko soundly. He tastes like garlic and chilies and salt. “I really love you.”

Zuko looks a little dazed when Sokka pulls back, and a light blush colors his cheeks. But he looks pleased. “I love you, too,” he says, his voice a little hoarse, and he laughs, short and sweet. He points to the food, barely any less abundant than when he began. “Now will you please eat with me?”

“In a minute,” Sokka replies, picking up the scroll once more, “I just really want to finish this.”

Zuko nods and tucks back into one of the bundles of sticky rice, sighing and dropping his shoulders as he relaxes anew.

Sokka smiles as he waits patiently for the dancing to start again.

#atla #atla fanfic #zukka #zuko #sokka #my writing #ask #marvelkitten42 #zukka fanfic

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ketsuyuki-hibana-typed · 5 years

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Hello!!! May i request Genya x reader (Modern DomesticAU) , please????I need fluff for him after reading the scans (இдஇ; )

I NEED THIS TOO, GENYAAA BBY COME BAAAAACK (༎ຶ ෴ ༎ຶ)

Shinazugawa Genya x Reader (Modern DomesticAU)

Genya and you were in the same university, but he is a third year while you're second year.

He will gently wake you up by shaking your body. If you still not wake up, he pulled your body up slowly and made you sit.

"Wake up." He kissed your droll-covered cheek.

"Mm, morning." You hugged his neck, and put your head on his shoulder, grinned stupidly

"Morning." He smiled and kissed your top head.

Both of you went to bathroom together. Sometimes, you mistook his toothbrush as yours so he usually guided your hand to the right brush and put the toothpaste on top of it too.

"Sleepy..." You use his big arms as your pole, making him as your stand support.

"Me too, but we should hurry today." He wiped the rest of white bubble on your mouth

"Genya, your bedhead." You touched his hair. "Can I comb it?"

"We don't have-"

"Genyaaaa." You pulled and pushed his body.

"Ok, just this once."

"What do you mean just this once. I'm the one who made your hair everyday." You happily tidied up his mohawk hair while he sit down.

Genya helped almost everything with the breakfast.

"2 bacons, and scrambled egg." You murmured while putting them on the plate. "Should I cook for lunch too?"

"We can't make it on time." Genya drank his coffee.

"Oh, how about new ramen booth near uni? We could have lunch together there."

"Sure."

He made sure to look at today's forecast and brings umbrella even though it's sunny day before went out

Always prepared

The train to your uni always cramped at this hour so it's kind of impossible to have a seat.

Genya always drived you to the corner, and made you faced his inner big body, making sure you didn't fall if the train make a sudden movement. Or to prevent any inconvenience that could occurred.

Since you can't reach the ceilling-mounted handles, you hold his hanging arms like a koala

He had to endure this kind of cuteness everyday.

At university, both of you went to the separated class, promised each other to meet at lunch.

Your friends often asked how could you end up together.

"Please don't be mad, but your boyfriend's face is so scary, and those scars too. He looked like Yakuza. Are you sure he didn't-"

"Nope, he's not. He's a baby."

"What-"

You flung and slammed your textbooks onto your table.

"HE'S A BIG BABY." You let out dark aura emitting from your body and smiled to your friends

Your friends shivered and they swore they will never ask this again

Meanwhile, Genya's friends asked him about how he could get such a pretty girlfriend

"Well, I've been with her ever since middle school." Genya sat down. "So, it's not something new."

"But man, really, your girlfriend is such a feast." His friend suddenly popped out.

"... What do you mean."

"I mean bro, you got that delicious body! And the chest too, especially the thighs part. Damn, you're lucky bas-"

Genya suddenly stood up and pulled his collar shirt. His irk mark appeared.

"Once again disrespect her like that, I'll fucking rip your throat."

He shivered from head to toe. "So- Sorry."

This kind of shitty 'judge from the appearance' is always happening

Like, people often misunderstood him as your stalker or raper, because he always walked behind you and looked menacing towards you.

Sometimes, it made you pissed and it's often for you to yell, "LOOK CLOSELY! LOOK AT THIS BABY! DID HE LOOK LIKE HES A BAD GUY?! FUCKING CLEAN YOUR-"

"Okay, okay, stop, calm down." He pulled you out from that place while you continuingly threw profanity. He's the one who apologized to those people.

It drained both of your energy but luckily, supporting each other made you two stronger.

You usually had lunch with him.

Actually, both of you didn't really have time to meet each other on uni because of the tight schedule, so you really maximised and cherished your time with him on lunch.

"I heard these good for women." Genya picked up the bean sprouts from your bowl with his chopsticks.

You shook your head. "The idea of bean sprouts slowly caressing my throat made me want to puke."

"You really hate it huh." He patiently wiped your messy mouth.

On day off, there are no particular place you had to go on date. It's all spontaneously decided

Since it's always spontaneous, he likes to try new place or visiting some old place from your childhood

"Hey, you remember this place?" Genya showed you the map.

"Oh, I remembered. If I recalled, you confess to me here after our study tour. You suddenly doing Kabedon, shoving me flower you randomly picked up from parks and stuttered, saying that you like me."

"Right, I forgot that scene." He banged his head to nearest wall, preventing himself from dying of embarrassment

You probably went to make up section on mall and tried some lipstick, concealer, and perfume on his arms

The reason is simple, because he has long arm. There are so much space on that big arms and he never complained about it

He often used the blue cardigan you gave him on his birthday, especially when dating and eventually sad when he had to say goodbye to the cardigan because it's worn out

"I will buy you one again, so don't make that 'I wanna cry' face." You patted his head.

"But.. it's from you." He looked heartbroken when he put his favourite cardigan out from the wardrobe.

HNNGGGHHHHH STAHP

His brother, Sanemi, usually visited both of you on his day off. Nothing to do, just chillin there.

"You will be a great wife for Genya." He suddenly spouting out facts statement while sipping the juice you gave him

"E-Eh?" You slowly turned your head towards him while blushing, trying to not drop the glass on your hand

"ANIKI, WE RE NOT TALKING ABOUT IT RIGHT NOW." Genya dashed out from his room. Sanemi chuckled from both of your reaction

Since he got flustered easily, it's easy to tease him

You are always careless at home. He often finds you in ... Not so elegant state

You like to take a nap in the kotatsu, sometimes sleep while putting your head on the table, sometimes lying down with kotatsu as your blanket

Apparently, you unconsciously rolled your body out from the kotatsu

The view of you wearing tank top and short pants (which mean showing more skins) while letting your stomach half opened and almost reach your braless breast really tested him

Plus, you carelesely opened your leg wide too, with one hands up and one hand slipped inside your tank top on the breast part

Genya dropped his bag

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Hold on Genya! Hold your inner beast! Consent! Consent !!

But in the end, this good boi always covered you with blanket and put you properly on the bed.

Genya often spooning you, catches you and fully covered you with his body. In conclusion, he is the walking teddy bear.

Genya likes to bite your nape in random occasion, but mostly when you were cooking. When you asked why, he saw big cats on NatGeo did that and he thinks... It's just his instict to mark you

He always looked at good timing to kiss you. On the sofa, after wake up or when he spooning you with his big body while watching TV.

You already knew his 'Hey, can I kiss you?' gesture. He pulled you into his embrace, and rubbed his cheek onto yours. After that, he sticked his forehead onto yours and looked straight to your eyes.

You gave the permission sign with quick peck on his nose. He smiled and started to bring you into deep kiss.

Shopping for dinner isn't really part of your routines. Sometime you bought all of the ingredients or Genya shops alone. He will just took note from what you need on the food

Or takeouts. Definitely typical for busy university student.

But, bathing together is a must. He likes the skinship, or simply admiring your beautiful figure when you slowly showering yourself.

Sometimes, inside the bathtub, you purposely playing with his fingers and guided them to your lower part

"...please don't test me."

When you really tired and lazy to applied your skincare routine after bath, he's the one who took care of it.

"Hey, don't sleep yet. What comes after the toner?"

"Hngh.... Serum."

"Got it."

He divulged his problem and insecurity to you before sleep, with lower voice right on your ears, almost whispering

He often said that he probably lost you someday and he will never ready when it comes

You always soothing him when he became emotional like this. You assured him that he doesn't have to worry about you.

"I can't live without my big teddy bear." You chuckled while caressing his back. "So, it's impossible for me to leave you."

He didn't say anything but you already knew he didn't need further answer because he seems relaxed and didn't tense his muscle anymore.

He finally sleep in peace

You kissed his forehead and moved towards his chest, hugging him.

Yeah, there is no way you could leave this precious man alone

#kimetsu anime #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba imagines #kimetsu no yaiba headcanons #kny #kny genya #kny imagine #kny x reader #kny headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba genya #genya shinazugawa x reader #shinazugawa genya #shinazugawa genya x reader #genya x reader #genya shinazugawa

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shoutoismybaby · 5 years

Text

Toddler Todoroki

Hi bby!! Could i olease request a Todoroki x reader senario where he gets turned into a toddler and his gf has to watch over him and he’s just the sweetest boi. I love bby Todoroki sm 😤💕💕💕

***

You sure can, thank you for this ask! It was so cute

***

It was almost the end of the year when Aizawa decided to start bringing along a few students at a time on his hero rounds for some experience. You and Todoroki had never been in the same group, Aizawa knowing you two would somehow find a way to distract/put yourself in danger for the other person. Even if that wasn't your intent.

You had attempted to sleep that night, but the group hadn’t returned at 11 like they usually did, and no one that had been in the group had responded to your texts. Which left you staying up all night worrying. It was about 5 AM when you finally found yourself drifting to sleep, only to be rudely awakened by the sound of a young child crying.

Groaning, you sat up and kicked the blanket off. You were ready to fight anyone who had thought it would be a good idea to watch a movie at this time of the morning. The sun wasn't even up for goodness sake!

You threw open the door to your dorm to see Bakugou do the same thing next door. His scrunched up face turned to meet yours, and you felt bad for whoever was the source of the noise. It was then that you both turned your heads towards the stairs, pinpointing downstairs as the source of the noise.

You followed behind the grumpy boy as he trudged down the stairs, only to freeze on the last step. Your classmates littered the room, all staring at who by the door stood Izuku, Iida, Koda, and Aizawa. Who was holding a small child, the source of the crying, who had red and white hair.

“What the fuck?” Bakugou’s voice broke the silence. Aizawa simply ignored him and turned towards you,

“Come here,” he demanded, your eyes widened and you pointed to yourself.

‘Me?”

“Who else is his girlfriend?” his red eyes rolled as you made your way towards the group.

“What happened to Shouto?” At hearing his name the boy turned away from Aizawas shoulder and towards you. Some type of recognition swam through his eyes, and he almost immediately stopped crying.

“A villain with an age control quirk,” Aizawa explained, “Todoroki ended up taking the blow so that we could catch him.”

The toddler began to extend his arms out towards you,

“He seems to recognize you somewhat,” Iida noted,

“He doesn't remember anything?” Your brows furrowed,

“No, it took us three hours to get him this comfortable with Aizawa.” Izuku chimed in, it was then that Aizawa held Todoroki out to you.

“But since he seems to like you so much, you're one babysitting duty.”

“What?! I don't know how to-”You were cut off by a whine escaping the mouth of the small boy who’s eyes began to water. “Okay, okay!”

The boy immediately wrapped his small arms around your neck and snuggled in as soon as he had been transferred to your arms.

“This, isn’t permanent is it?” You asked, shifting your arms.

“No, we don’t know exactly how long it will last, however. But until then, he’s your responsibility. Good luck.” With that, Aizawa turned around and left. A sigh left your mouth,

“Is there anything you need help with (Y/n)?” Izuku asked, seeming as uncomfortable as everyone else in the room. You pursed your lips in thought as you began to hear people leaving from behind you.

“No, I don't think so.” Once everyone had left you looked over at Todoroki. “Hey, Sho, are you hungry?” You asked, the boy lifted his head from your shoulder and nodded his head. “You know, I assumed you talked more as a little kid.”

The boy only shifted and laid his head back on your shoulder as you began to walk downstairs.

“What do you want?” You questioned, not really expecting a response as you began to open the cupboards.

“Soba,” he requested,

“I should have known,” You sat him down on the counter and made your way to the fridge, letting out a relieved sigh when you noticed leftover soba from earlier that day. A yawn left your mouth as you began preparing a small bowl for him,

“Are you sleepy?” He asked, you turned your head to see the boy observing you closely.

“Yes,” you looked down at the silverware drawer, “can you use chopsticks?”

“You can go to sleep,” he offered,

“Who would take care of you then?” You asked, deciding it would be best to just give him a fork. He didn’t respond until you handed him the bowl of food,

“Thank you,”

You pulled yourself up on the counter across from him. It was strange for you, to see him so little. This was a boy that you had kissed before, and now you were having to take care of his 4-year-old self? Plus, how much he exactly remembered was up in the air. He seemed to be familiar with you, but also wasn't just his normal self in a smaller body.

It was weird to see the boy so content. Usually, there was always hidden anger pent up inside of Todoroki. You knew why of course. You expected that anyone with a childhood and a shitty parent such as him would have a lot of pent up anger. But he seemed so calm and at peace in this moment. You wished that he would look like that when he was around you. Content. Like his father didn’t exist. And it was just you and him.

“Are you okay?” You blinked a few times to bring yourself back into the present. Todoroki had finished his food and placed the dishes in the sink beside him.

“Yeah, I was just thinking.” You explained, sliding off of the counter.

“About what?” He held out his arms as you picked him up, and snuggled his face back into your neck.

“You,” The downstairs became dark as you flipped the light switch and began to make your way upstairs,

“Why?”

“Do you remember me at all?” His brows furrowed,

“A little,” he muttered, “I’m sorry. Is that bad?”

“What? No, of course not Sho. I was just wondering, baby.” You ruffled his hair and opened the door to your dorm. You set him down on your bed and searched for the sleeping bag you kept in your closet. After laying it out you looked to the boy,

“Do you want to sleep on the bed or in the sleeping bag?” He answered you by sliding off the bed, you grabbed an extra pillow from your bed for him and helped him get comfortable.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” The sudden question made you laugh,

“Uh, yeah.”

“Oh… He’s lucky.” He shifted as you crawled into bed.

“You think?” You asked, turning to your side to look at him. He seemed to read the expression on your face before answering.

“Yeah,” He turned to lay on his back, “goodnight.”

“Goodnight Sho,” You turned off your lamp and felt yourself drift off to sleep.

A shift on your bed caused you to open your eyes, shouto’s body was sitting next to you. “I can't sleep,” His soft voice took you a moment to comprehend. You lifted the blanket,

“Nightmare?” You asked as he slid under the blanket.

“Yeah,”

“Your dad?”

“Mmhmm.” He shifted to stare at you,

“Well he’s not going to hurt you when I’m around okay?” he nodded, you rubbed his hair and yawned. “You’re adorable.”

“Goodnight,”

“Night.”

The next time you awoke the sun was shining in your eyes. A whine left your throat and you attempted to snuggle further into the blankets. Only to snuggle deeper into someone else's chest, strong arms wrapped around your torso. Your face flushed as your eyes fluttered open, Shouto’s teenage body was laying next to you peacefully.

You had forgotten about how he had climbed into your bed. You had also assumed he would be stuck in his 4-year-old body for longer. Something about you waking up seemed to stir Todoroki, his eyes opened slowly and stared into yours. His face dusted itself with pink and a small smile formed on his lips. Your face warmed as you analyzed his features. He seemed at peace, much like he had been yesterday. But calmer, and happier. Yet, the look in his eyes made you nervous. He had never looked at you like that before. You opened your mouth to ask, but stopped once he began to speak.

“(Y/n),” his voice was softer than usual, if that were possible.

“What?”

“I really am lucky.”

***

Requests are open!

#todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #todoroki shouto #shoto todoroki #nesawrites

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hystericalrogertaylor · 5 years

Text

Reconnecting (Chapter Eighteen)

Pairing: Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor X Reader

Word count: 1886

Summary: (Y/n) and Roger have been friends since the cradle. When they’re suddenly pulled apart and reconnected years later, they both can tell that the relationship has evolved. They lead very different lifestyles now. Can they continue what they had, or go for something more, with this gap between them?

Warnings: Airplanes (?), indirect mentions of sex, implied/mentioned masturbation, talking about James/courts/trials/lawyers

A/N: HEY YO LOOK IT’S ANOTHER CHAPTER!!! We’re going to pretend that the UK justice system is exactly the same as America’s and that I know anything about the justice system! Hope you enjoy!

My master list, where all of my other stories are located, is in my description! :)

(Gif may not move on computers, sorry!)

~~~

The tour went out with a bang in Brisbane. The show was fantastic, everyone performed well, and Roger gave you a big, sloppy kiss afterwards.

“That was so fun!” he shouted, still holding you close. “That tour was awesome!”

“It was.” You brushed some of his sweaty locks out of his face. “You did amazing, and I’m very proud of you.”

He smiled. “I’m so happy to have you.”

You placed a kiss on his jaw. “And I, you.”

He wrapped an arm around your waist, guiding you towards the door. “Let’s go get on the bus, I’m ready to head home.”

“Me too.” You sighed. “I’m so looking forward to sleeping in our bed.”

Roger’s face beamed. “Yeah. Our bed. Us. Together. As a couple.”

You chuckled. “We’ve shared a bed before, even on this tour.”

“Yeah, but it’ll be cooler now that we’re actually dating.” He kissed the top of your head. “Romantic and stuff.”

You shook your head, smiling wide. “Sure, I’ll go along with it.”

---

“We bought enough plane tickets for everyone for a reason,” Brian said, leaning across the aisle.

You had your arms wrapped around Roger’s neck as you sat in his lap. You looked over at Brian, smirking. “Does this bother you?”

“If you join the mile high club while I’m trying to sleep, yes, I will be bothered.”

You coughed awkwardly while Roger rubbed his hand up and down your back. “Can you shut up?” Roger snapped.

Brian shrugged. “Just saying.” He turned back to his book.

You laid your head on Roger’s shoulder. “Let’s just snuggle and take a nap and ignore him.”

He nodded, sighing. “Yeah, I’m a little tired.”

After shifting uncomfortably for several minutes, you slid off of Roger’s lap and into your own seat. “That wasn’t going to work.”

“Yeah, no.” Roger stretched out his legs as much as he could. He put his hands behind his head before sighing. “Goodnight, love.”

“It’s not night,” you said, pointing out the window.

“You know what I mean,” he said, side-eying you.

You leaned over, kissing his cheek. “Goodnight, Rog.”

---

The plane landed in Hong Kong many hours later, jolting you awake from your third nap. You had to shake Roger awake, who managed to sleep through the incredibly bumpy landing. The sky was dark, and you knew you had an almost ten hour layover. Your options were to sleep or eat, and you were starving.

“Let’s find somewhere to eat,” you suggested. Roger nodded groggily, standing up to get his bag out of the overhead compartment.

“Brian, John, and I will be waiting in the terminal for you to get back so we can eat,” Freddie said; he was in the row behind you. “You two enjoy an airport date.”

You shook your head. “Thanks for the romantic suggestion, Fred.” You grabbed Roger’s hand, pulling him off in the direction of the restaurants.

You eventually decided on an Asian noodle restaurant, ordering a large bowl for the both of you to share; Roger thought it would be more romantic and cute that way. You were given two pairs of chopsticks, and you took the food to a table in the corner of the restaurant.

“These are difficult to use,” Roger said, chuckling as he dropped a bunch of noodles from his chopsticks.

You laughed. “Well, you’re holding them wrong, first off.” You managed to pick up one end of a noodle with your chopsticks, holding it out towards Roger’s mouth.

He looked down at it. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Just do it,” you replied.

He took the noodle in his lips, pulling it into his mouth slowly. You found the other end of the same noodle in the bowl, putting it in your mouth. He smiled, catching onto what you were doing. Your faces got closer until your lips were pressed against his, having a short, sweet kiss in the middle of an airport noodle shop.

Roger chuckled. “I’m going to go see if they have a fork I can use.” He stood, placing a kiss on your forehead before going back up to the counter.

You sighed. “How’d I get so lucky?”

---

You spent the rest of the long layover asleep in the terminal. Roger slept sitting up in a chair while you had your head on his lap and the rest of your body on two chairs next to you. You were able to sleep fairly well, considering where you were, which meant you weren’t sleepy when you got on the flight to London.

“What do you want to do?” you asked Roger.

He smirked. “Something we really shouldn’t be doing on a commercial airliner.”

“Oh, my God.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

He raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, sorry.” He smiled. “I do want to kiss you though.”

You leaned over your armrest, pecking his lips. “There,” you said. “That’s all you get.”

“Oh, teasing me, are you?” Roger leaned over, whispering in your ear. “Well, two can play at that game.”

You shivered. This would be an interesting flight.

---

Roger spent the first hour of the flight reading a book. You wanted to talk to him or make out with him or something, but he seemed so engrossed in the story that you didn’t want to disturb him.

Eventually, he set the novel down and looked over at you. “You’re fidgeting,” he noticed.

You frowned. “No, I’m not.” You knew you were.

“Yes, you are.” He smirked. “What do you want?”

You lowered your voice. “I want you to kiss me, Roger.”

He leaned over, pecking your lips like you’d done to him earlier. “That’s all you get, babe.”

You leaned over to him, nibbling on his earlobe. “Is it?” you asked tauntingly.

He stiffened up. “Um...yeah.”

Smirking, you ran a hand down his arm. “Interesting.”

He sucked in a breath. “There are people around,” he whispered.

“I know.” You fell back into your seat. “It’s just fun to watch you squirm too.”

Roger stood up. “Meet me in the bathroom in five minutes.”

You chuckled. “What?”

“Just do it.” He got out of the row of seats, making his way to the back of the plane.

You smiled, humming a happy tune to yourself. Brian looked across the aisle at you, a disgusted look on his face.

“If I find a condom wrapper in the bathroom, darling, I’ll be so proud,” Freddie said from beside Brian.

“No!” Brian refuted. “We’ll be grossed out! Other people need to piss in there!”

You shrugged. “It’s not like we’ll break the toilet.”

“You better not,” Brian said. “We’ll have to pay for it.”

Ten minutes later, you stood up and made your way to the bathroom. You only had to knock once before the door flew open and Roger pulled you inside. He locked the door before pushing you against it, crashing his lips into yours.

“You made me wait,” he growled into your mouth, causing you to shiver.

“I’m allowed to play too, aren’t I?” you asked, pulling away and smirking.

“Not anymore.” Roger attached his lips to your neck, making you tilt your head back to give him more room. “I’m in charge.”

You grabbed fistfulls of his shirt, pulling him as close to you as you could with the limited space available. You let out a whine as he started nipping at the skin on your neck; what a fun time it would be to explain the marks to the others.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, running his hands up your torso to cup your breasts through your shirt. “Fucking gorgeous.”

You giggled. “Where’s this coming from, Rog?”

“My heart.” He moved his face back up to yours, placing his hands on your hips and pinning you to the door. “You really are the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen.”

You shook your head, still smiling. “We’re in an airplane’s bathroom.”

“So?” Roger responded.

“So, wait until we get home, and then you can show me how beautiful you think I am.” You winked, running a hand down his muscular arm.

His breath hitched in his throat, his pupils dilating and almost overpowering the green irises. “All right,” he said. “I’ll wait. But it’s not going to be easy.”

You smirked. “You’ll be fine, I’m sure.” You turned around and unlocked the door of the bathroom, making your way back to your seat.

Roger came back a few minutes later, his face red and his expression slack and calm.

You frowned. “What did you do in that bathroom?”

He gave you a side glance, smiling slyly. “Nothing.”

“Eew.” You stuck your tongue out, pretending to gag.

---

Roger couldn’t get off the plane fast enough once it had landed; he’d been fidgeting around in his seat for the entire last hour of the fight. You found it absolutely hilarious how horny he was, and you were all too ready to oblige his wishes once you reached his flat.

“Well, I’ll see you chaps at the studio in a week!” Roger called, grabbing his suitcases in both hands and speed walking towards the exit of Heathrow.

Brian frowned. “Did he just call us ‘chaps’?”

You smiled. “Yeah.” You held your bags and sauntered after Roger.

Sighing, Brian turned to the rest of the band. “We’re getting seats as far away from them as possible the next time we fly.”

Freddie shrugged. “I think their love is beautiful.”

“He masturbated in the airplane bathroom because he was so desperate,” John noted. “I was the one to use the toilet after him.”

“Um…” Freddie grimaced. “Let’s just leave.”

---

The mailbox at Roger’s flat was overflowing from mail he’d received during the tour. He’d placed it all on his kitchen table before grabbing your face and forcefully kissing you. You dug your fingers into his hair, pulling on the blond strands. You were about to pull him into the bedroom when you noticed the top envelop in the stack of mail.

It was from your lawyer in James’s case.

“Stop,” you said quietly, pushing Roger away.

He frowned. “What’s wrong?”

You reached over and grabbed the envelope, looking at the front of it. “This is from Mr. Jade. It’s...addressed to both of us…” Slowly, you tore the flap open and pulled the letter out, handing it to Roger; you were too scared to read it.

Roger read over the letter several times, his angry expression morphing with each new line. “Well, it’s saying that he tried to come over while we were on tour, and that he wants to use both of us as witnesses.” He looked up at you. “But James’s lawyer also wants you on the stand as a witness.”

Your eyes went wide. “James’s lawyer? He wants to put me on the stand?”

Roger nodded. “This is insane. He’s so obviously guilty. And this means he pleaded not guilty!”

With your back against the wall, you sank to the floor. Letting out a few tearless sobs, you buried your head in your hands. Roger sat down next to you, wrapping his arms around you. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. We’ve got enough evidence to get him convicted and put away for a long time. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Up until the trial, you believed him.

Taglist:

@thessxoxo @roger-bang-the-drum @slavsher @sabbrrriinnaa @i-ship-it-ironically @blissfully-queen @oyoke @borhapqueen92 @girlpluto @secretsweetscollectionblog @bentaylorrogerhardy @16wiishes @emmieliabedelia @onevisionliz @mr-stank-i-dont-feel-so-dank @rebelrebelyourefaceisamess @cosmicsskies @thewinchesterchronicles @florenceivy @benhardyseyes @letmelivetaylor @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen @holding-onto-cas @killer-queen-ofrhye (I feel like I’m forgetting someone, so if you really want to be added, reply or reblog this post and ask, if you send an ask I’ll probably lose it somewhere lol)

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #fanfiction #x reader #queen #brian may #freddie mercury #john deacon #bohemian rhapsody #gwilym lee #joe mazzello #rami malek #a night at the opera

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skiecas · 6 years

Note

Hi! Im here for the IwaOi prompt if that's okay so how about Oikawa thought that iwa-chan is cheating on him but actually is surprising him? I don't know if this makes sense. Thank you so much. Have a nive day!

Matsukawa pries open his eyes when he feels a dull ache erupt down his side, flickering down his sleepy gaze to where Hanamaki’s elbow was grinding into his kidney, seeking his attention. The boy points wordlessly with his chin towards some far corner of the campus cafeteria, and Matsukawa follows his line of sight with vaguely building interest.

Oikawa had just walked into the bustling atrium, a lunch tray in his hands. He turns heads wherever he goes, whether it be for his looks or his height, but only his two friends notice the pinch of his jawline or the slight darkness in his irises. He looks absolutely livid.

Hanamaki speaks aloud the exact thought that drifts through Matsukawa’s mind. “This oughta be good.”

They wave him over, and Oikawa changes paths once he notices, sliding into the seat across from them at the table with a noisy huff. His tray follows with a loud smack, and his curry almost tips out of the bowl from the force.

“What’s wrong, champ?” Hanamaki asks, dropping his chin on his knuckles like he was so excited to listen.

Oikawa delicately brings a roll of sushi to his lips, stills, then lets it tumble back onto his tray—likely for dramatic effect. “I’m sure you two have noticed,” he sniffs, “that Iwa-chan is not with me. I invited him to lunch and he completely blew me off. Said he has things to do.”

“What kind of things?” Matsukawa wants to know.

Oikawa blows up; he quite literally mimes an explosion when his arms fly into the air. “If I knew that, I wouldn’t be upset, would I! He wouldn’t tell me!”

“So what you’re saying is,” Hanamaki says, stealing one of the rolls off Oikawa’s tray, “that Iwaizumi, after twenty years of life, has finally managed to saw off the super glue that binds you two together?”

“And now,” Matsukawa adds, plucking some of his apple slices, “he’s off doing secret, big-boy things… without you?”

Oikawa picks up his chopsticks in either fist and pokes at both of their hands, fending them off his food. With a cool stare, he says, “You two can snicker like the hyenas you are, but Iwa-chan and I have always been together.”

“So he’s evading you. He’s being dodgy, not telling you why. He doesn’t want to have lunch together or braid your hair or do whatever it is you two get up to in his room late at night.”

“Definitely not fuck,” Hanamaki interjects, like he could will it to be true.

Oikawa tuts, impatiently. “I’m sure you two must have a point, but I find myself quickly losing interest.”

“Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?”

They speak in exact succession, one after the other.

“He’s cheating on you.”

Oikawa seems aghast at the mere suggestion, the ends of his hair rising like readying for an all-out war. “He is not—he! wouldn’t! How could you even say that!”

Half of his lunch tray gets wiped clean by his two friends as he phases through several different reactions; his hands move in useless motions; his lip protrudes; defiance burns in his eyes; and then, finally, he stares into his hands in horror and whispers, “Oh, my god…”

Then he snaps back up, picks up his empty lunch tray to be discarded, and sweeps out of the cafeteria without another single word.

Hanamaki, in the midst of licking his fingers clean, stares after his retreating back with an unbothered expression.

“Do you think he knew we were joking?”

The subject of Oikawa’s relationship gets pushed to the sidelines and almost forgotten altogether, at least until the end of that day’s practice. It’s an earlier time than they would normally be let out; the sun’s still up, and most of the team breaks off into groups, excited to make the most of the sunlight with evening plans. Hanamaki is the one to suggest trying the new croquette stall across from the campus, and Matsukawa is never one to turn down an offer for food. They round the gym wall, carrying five pounds of gym equipment but freshly showered and eager to stuff themselves full.

But Oikawa is waiting there, like the troll at the end of a bridge whose duty was to deny them passage. Noticing their presence, he kicks away from the wall and stalks over, seething, “I hope you two are happy. He is cheating on me.”

Hanamaki looks unenthused. “You two seemed fine at practice.”

They’d seemed more than fine, in fact. The boys had considered inviting them for croquettes, but both Oikawa and Iwaizumi had vanished so quickly following cleanup that they’d assumed the couple had sneaked away to get handsy in a bathroom stall somewhere. They’d certainly been tactile enough all through practice.

Matsukawa takes a different approach. “Iwaizumi?” he says, with a shake of his head. “He really doesn’t seem like the type.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Oikawa snaps. “But my sources are undeniable. I heard from Suga-chan, who heard from Dai-chan, who heard from Tetsu-chan, who heard from Boku-chan, who heard it straight from the horse’s mouth.” He takes a deep, stabilizing breath, before revealing, “It seems Iwa-chan has been spending a lot of time lately with Akaashi Keiji.”

There’s a lingering, dramatic pause among the trio of boys. Then Matsukawa inclines his head. “Who?”

“The pretty boy from our economics class,” Hanamaki fills him in. “I think.”

Oikawa nods solemnly. “That’s the one.”

“That��s who you’re worried about? I doubt anything is happening there. The guy’s practically a fetus.”

“How d’you reckon that? Isn’t he just one year below us?”

“Yes, but, see. Now that we’re of legal drinking age, anyone below the age of twenty is automatically considered a fetus.”

“Huh. I never thought of it like that, Matsukawa-sensei.”

Oikawa groans. “Can you two please focus on the matter at hand?”

“Which is what, exactly?” Hanamaki asks, very clearly losing interest in the conversation at breakneck speed. He digs a pinkie into his ear, then flicks a piece of lint off his fingernail, as if some ear fuzz was more worthy of his time than Oikawa’s love troubles.

“You’re probably not aware of this,” says Oikawa, one hip cocked, “but Akaashi-kun used to be a setter back in high school.”

“I’m afraid I don’t see the correlation.”

But Matsukawa does. It sinks into him slowly, just like the number twenty-five over time becoming synonymous with the sensation of loss. He’s unable to keep one corner of his mouth from twitching up into a bemused grin. “Wait… Is this, what, setter envy? You’re afraid Iwaizumi’s sneaking around behind your back, asking someone else to send him tosses?”

Oikawa pinks, and though it’s subtle, it’s also a tell-tale answer. “This is no laughing matter!” he hisses, when Hanamaki begins to chortle. “They were seen going into the public gym together a couple days ago!”

“Two volleyball players, walking into a gym. The audacity.”

“Let’s hope they used protection.”

“This isn’t just about that,” he insists, braving onward despite their guffaws. “The fact of the matter is, Iwa-chan is still being evasive and distant and he won’t tell me why.”

“Then ask him.”

This is where Oikawa hesitates, drawing back slightly until he’s toed a line into the dirt. “Well. That’s the thing. See.” He presses his lips together, before looking up at them through his lashes with a look of innocence that could not have meant anything good. “I thought maybe you two could ask for me?”

“Pass,” Hanamaki replies, flatly.

“I can’t ask him! He’ll think I don’t trust him, and he’ll know I’ve been asking about him. Then he’ll get angry, and not in the cute way.” His teeth catch the skin of his bottom lip, gnawing there, as his outburst dies down. It’s almost with an unprecedented weakness in his voice that he adds, “I can’t lose Iwa-chan. I can’t.”

He speaks with complete sincerity, that much is made clear by the tremor behind his words. Hanamaki groans, likely affected by the plea despite his best wishes, but Matsukawa is the one to eventually agree.

He sighs. “Let’s hear Iwaizumi’s side, then.”

The conversation they eventually corner Iwaizumi into having can only be classified as bizarre.

He’s impossible to find, for one, and after scouring the campus and coming up empty, they’re forced to camp out in front of his apartment, croquettes in hand. For another, when Iwaizumi finally arrives—at a very late hour, at least for him—and spots the two of them lounging in front of his door, he stutters to a halt, shoves his belongings behind his back, then very slowly approaches with caution.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, eyeing them both.

“I think the better question is,” Hanamaki replies, getting to his feet and dusting off his knees, “what were you doing not here?”

“Croquette?” Matsukawa offers blandly, holding out their bag.

Iwaizumi makes a motion like he might be about to accept, except a bag crinkles behind his back from the movement of his hand, and he freezes.

“No, thanks.” His eyes flit over their heads to his apartment door, as if formulating the easiest escape route. Matsukawa might have been offended if he wasn’t so intrigued.

“Whatcha got there?” Hanamaki asks, pointing to the corner of a shopping bag they can see looking out from behind Iwaizumi’s thigh.

He quickly shoves it out of sight. “Nothing.”

“Oh, it was definitely something.”

“Is that where you disappeared to after practice? To get that?”

“I saw something that looks like a bow inside. Is it a present? Is it for Oikawa?”

Iwaizumi scowls and, barreling his way in between them, barks, “What’s with the third degree? Go bother someone else.”

“‘Someone else’ told us to bother you,” Hanamaki mutters.

With one last glare, Iwaizumi slides into his apartment and firmly shuts the door behind him. The sound echoes like a cannon through the empty hall, signifying a rather final end to their conversation.

“What do we think? Fishy?”

“Definitely fishy,” Hanamaki agrees, before leaning towards the door and banging a fist against the metal frame. “Asshole!” he calls inside. “You’re not even gonna invite us in?!”

It takes a well-timed cough from a disapproving, elderly resident two doors down for them to hang their heads in apology and vacate the premises.

Oikawa arrives in a flurry of flushed cheeks, broken sentences, and flyaway hair. “I knew it!” he hisses between his teeth, gliding straight past the duo of his friends to make a beeline for his boyfriend’s room. “How could he do this to me? Me! Oikawa Tooru! His Tooru!”

“Shouldn’t we let them settle this on their own?” Matsukawa wonders, as they follow the seething setter up the apartment steps.

“And miss the show?”

Oikawa presses numbers into the keypad without missing a beat, tossing open the door when it beeps to allow them entry and kicking his way past the front entrance. They clearly catch Iwaizumi unawares, who looks up from pouring himself a cup of what looks like scalding tea. Not that this stops Oikawa; he yanks the cup from his hand and throws it at the ground in dramatic fashion, only saved from slicing his toes with broken glass by the incredible luck of it being made of plastic.

“The hell, Oikawa!” Iwaizumi barks, setting down his pot. “What was that for!”

“That’s what you did to my heart,” Oikawa returns, his nose in the air. “And then you stomped on it.”

Hanamaki narrates off to the side, muttered into Matsukawa’s ear. “I give him a nine for presentation, but a five for that dialogue.”

Iwaizumi crosses his arms over his very sculpted chest in a defiant stance, which does not go over well with his boyfriend, even before he grumbles, “What the hell did I supposedly do now?”

Oikawa’s nostrils flare. “Supposedly?” he repeats, jabbing at one of his pecs. “Supposedly, you’re a dirty, rotten, lying cheat.”

His boyfriend raises a single brow. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t even try to deny it. Makki and Mattsun told me everything about your cheating.”

This elicits a response from the duo in the background.

“Now, hang on—”

“That’s not exactly what we said—”

“We said something was fishy.”

Iwaizumi ignores them, though he quickly rises to the bait and falls into the argument.

“What else did these fuckheads tell you, huh?” he demands, which elicits another round of protestations. “Did they see me actually with someone? See me kissing anyone else? Loving anyone else but you?”

“You were seen going into a gym together with Akaashi Keiji,” Oikawa tells him, coolly.

At this, curiously enough, Iwaizumi blinks, the darkness in his eyes visibly clearing as if someone had suddenly placed a cap on his temper. If anything, he looks as if someone had pulled the rug out from underneath him. “How do you know about that? Is that what this is about?”

“So you admit it,” Oikawa accuses, his nose so high he could have drowned if it started to rain from the ceiling.

Iwaizumi recovers quickly, and grinds his teeth together. His hands ball up into fists at his side. “Yeah, I admit it. Is it a crime to go somewhere with a classmate now? I did it for you, asswipe.”

Oikawa snorts once, without mirth.

His boyfriend takes a deep, calming breath, and then, with serenity that does not translate over at all to his hardened face, he explains, “Akaashi has a family acquaintance who is close, personal friends with Arita Kenji. We went to the gym so I could meet him and ask him to get a signature for me—for you.”

All three of them perk up at this.

“Arita Kenji?”

“The pro volleyball player?”

Oikawa seems the most aghast. “My favorite player*?”

Wordlessly, almost with a pin drop silence, Iwaizumi moves around the three of them, towards the entrance where he had seemingly discarded his bags upon returning home. He picks up the gift bag in the front and thrusts it into Oikawa’s hands, still without a word.

Inside, there’s a frame, with a small bow stuck to the corner. Dear Oikawa, reads the paper pressed behind the glass. If you’re going to hit it, hit it until it breaks. Arita Kenji.

There’s a long, ringing silence, which Hanamaki breaks.

“Well…” he says. “I, for one, could not have predicted this.”

Matsukawa shakes his head in solemn fashion. “I knew Iwaizumi wasn’t the type.”

But Oikawa seems the most affected, even behind the cover of his bangs. He quietly slips the frame back inside, sets the bag down on the bed, then glides over to his prickly, scowling boyfriend and takes his face into his hands. “Iwa-chan,” he murmurs, with a guilty look. “Iwa-chan, I’m sorry. I was just afraid. I thought I was losing you.”

Iwaizumi, despite a visible struggle to remain hardened, softens under his touch—a complete sucker for his boyfriend. “Hey,” he says, gently, gripping him about the wrists and holding him to his face. “You’ll never lose me.”

Oikawa bites down on his quivering lip, fighting back the grin threatening to split his face, before swooping in and planting a fierce kiss on his boyfriend’s mouth. Iwaizumi returns the passion with equal intensity, his hands sliding up around Oikawa’s shoulders to tangle into his hair and hitch him close, to, essentially, chew his face off. They kiss hungrily and without pause.

“Ugh.” Hanamaki sticks a finger in his mouth, pretending to gag. “Why are we still here?”

“The better question is,” Matsukawa says, rubbing his aching forehead, “why do we always humor them and their disgusting relationship?”

“‘Cause we’re just awesome friends.”

“True, true.”

“Wanna get out of here?”

“Please. Before clothes start flying off.”

They tiptoe out of the apartment, slowly easing the door shut behind them. The last thing they see, through the part in the frame, is the kissing couple inside tumbling as one onto the bed.

later:

oik: i can’t believe makki and mattsun tried to sabotage our relationship like that. how horrible of themiwa: they’re just jealousoik: yeahhhhh*resume making out*

*note: arita kenji is not a real player, but rather the actor who portrays ushiwaka in the haikyuu stage plays. i just thought the irony would be hilarious, lolol.

also, i can totally see iwaoi as one of those obnoxious couples who have really dumb fights and “““break up””” every other week for, like, a day, before reconciling in the grossest, sappiest fashion, and matsuhana are just banging their heads in the background x)

#fic #haikyuu #iwaoi #i know exactly what you mean nonnie ;)#though this became more of a makki+mattsun shenanigans fic #bc y'all know I LOVE SEIJOU OT4 #also. since the punchline is right there in the prompt. i felt like i had to make the fic interesting in another way. if that makes sense

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artikgato · 6 years

Text

Souyowrimo day 27

Prompt list here, other completed prompts in this tag.

So...close...

Day 27: Tired

“I’m home,” Yosuke called out as he stepped through the door of the little apartment he and Souji were sharing.

“Welcome back,” Souji returned, waving at him from the couch. “You sound tired.”

“Work was awful,” Yosuke complained, as he hung up his jacket. “You know how it is this time of the year, Partner. I can’t wait to graduate and get a real job somewhere that isn’t Junes.”

“It’ll be January soon, and then it’ll die back down,” Souji reassured, patting the cushion on the couch beside him when Yosuke approached. The brunette all but threw himself onto the couch beside him, slumping against the armrest.

“Christmas is already over,” he groaned. “Why is everybody still shopping so much?” Souji patted him on the back in solidarity.

“Hey, you’re home now. No more unreasonable customers for you for the night,” he said. “The only demand I’m going to make of you is that I want to cuddle.” Yosuke snorted.

“I dunno, that seems pretty demanding to me,” Yosuke joked. He sat up and started to lean over toward Souji, but paused and looked down at what he was wearing. He let out a nervous laugh. “Eheh...mind if I change out of my uniform first?”

“Go right ahead,” Souji replied. Yosuke rose from the couch - albeit very slowly and regretfully. He disappeared into the back for a few minutes, reappearing wearing a pair of old sweatpants and an old blue hoodie that he’d had since high school. He made a beeline for the couch, slumping straight back down into the arms of his loving boyfriend. They quickly rearranged themselves so that they were both laying down on the couch, feet hanging off the side, with Yosuke’s head pillowed against Souji’s chest and Souji’s arms wrapped firmly around him.

“Now then, tell me all about the rude customers you’ve had today,” Souji instructed, and Yosuke sighed.

“There weren’t too many, it was mostly just a lot of parents with bratty kids…” he started. He half-retold half-mumbled his way through his recollection of some of the customers he’d had, while Souji rubbed soothing circles into his back. Souji didn’t have much to talk about in regards to his own day, as business had been slow but steady at the coffee shop he worked at.

Eventually, they both ran out of things to talk about. Yosuke gave a mighty yawn, and Souji looked at the clock - it was barely even six-o-clock.

“Don’t fall asleep, okay? I still have to get up and make dinner,” Souji reprimanded. Yosuke gave a sleepy sounding affirmative, but despite that he was out like a light within minutes. Souji sighed. Normally he’d just wake Yosuke up without a thought, but lately his boyfriend had been having trouble sleeping, and coupled with the long, stressful hours he was working at Junes, well, he’d been in pretty bad shape. A nap couldn’t hurt him. And if he felt comfortable and safe enough to nap on Souji, well, Souji couldn’t bring himself to disturb that trust.

Half an hour. He’d give him half an hour. And Souji could still hear the TV just fine from where he was laying, so it wasn’t like he was going to get bored.

Thirty minutes turned into an hour. An hour turned into two. Souji was really starting to get hungry, but Yosuke was sleeping so peacefully, so soundly - what could he do?

His phone chimed and vibrated on the table, and Yosuke didn’t even so much as flinch - and there was Souji’s answer. The text was from Rise, just a simple inquiry about his day.

>>Sempai! What are you up to? Anything interesting happen today??

He put his phone on silent mode, raised it above the two of them, and snapped a picture, making sure to catch enough of Yosuke’s face to show that he was clearly out like a light. He sent the picture.

>Depends on your definition of interesting

>>So that’s a no then. You two are so boring!

>We can’t all be internationally famous idols, Rise.

>If you have the spare time, I need a favor.

>>What’s up?

>I’m starving. Could you stop somewhere and bring food over to us?

>>Sure, but why not go yourself? That would be faster.

Souji just sent the picture again. He could practically hear her roll her eyes, all the way across town.

>>Just wake him up!

>Rise, look at him. Could /you/ wake up him?

>>Yes. You’re way too soft on him!

>He’s been having trouble sleeping lately.

>>Ugh, /fine/. But I’m staying to eat with you guys.

>That’s fair.

>>I’ll pick up some beef bowls if that’s okay.

>Sounds good to me.

With the conversation over, Souji put his phone back down on the table and tried to focus on what was on the TV. But between the comfortable warmth and Yosuke’s deep, measured breaths, he found himself dozing off as well.

Rise considered knocking on the door when she got there, but she remembered that Souji had given her a key to the apartment back when they’d first moved in, in case of an emergency. Besides, chances were that Souji had fallen asleep by now too, and if she knocked she’d wake them both up. So she fished out her keys, found the spare key they’d given her, and let herself inside as quietly as possible. The TV was on, but nobody greeted her, meaning they were both definitely asleep. She slipped off her shoes and made her way over to the couch as quietly as possible, finding them both adorably passed out, Yosuke with his head on Souji’s chest, legs twined together. They were disgustingly cute. Rise had to get a picture. A few pictures. A bunch of pictures. Her quiet giggling eventually woke Souji up. He blinked a few times up at her, before raising a hand off of Yosuke’s back to wave at her.

“Hey, thanks a bunch, Rise,” he greeted. She walked over to their table and put the takeout bag down on it as quietly as possible, while Souji mustered up the willpower to rouse his boyfriend from sleep. Rise couldn’t help grinning and shaking her head as his attempts repeatedly failed. She took the three containers of meat and three containers of rice out of the bag, sitting down in one of the chairs and grabbing a pair of chopsticks.

“If you two don’t hurry up I’m going to start eating without you,” she warned. She heard a groan from Yosuke in response.

“Partner? Did I just hear Rise-chan?” he asked, sleepy and confused, and Rise giggled.

“Yeah. She brought dinner over for is,” Souji explained.

“Huh?” Yosuke asked. He finally sat up, looking over the couch at her. His hair was a mess, and Rise barely resisted the urge to call him out on it. “Why’d you do that, Rise-chan?” She stood up from the chair and made her way over to the couch, taking her phone out and showing him the chain of texts from Souji. He frowned, folding his arms, as Souji sat up beside him.

“You could’ve just woken me up, Partner!” Yosuke scolded. Souji shook his head with a chuckle, reaching over to pat down Yosuke’s unruly hair.

“Could I, though?” he asked, gesturing to Rise’s phone. “How was I supposed to disturb you when you looked like that?” Yosuke groaned and rolled his eyes.

“You’re way too cheesy for your own good,” Yosuke sighed, exasperated. He got up off of the couch, offering a hand down to Souji, who took it and let himself be pulled to a standing position. “Anyway, what’d you get for us?”

“Beef bowls,” Rise replied, making her way back over to the table.

“Sweet!” Yosuke cheered, pumping a hand in the air.

“How much do I owe you?” Souji asked her, as he joined her at the table, sitting across from her.

“Don’t worry about it. Just don’t make a habit of it, okay? I’m an internationally famous idol, not a delivery service,” she said, with a wink. Souji nodded with a laugh, and with that the three of them dug into their meals. Rise left in high spirits after a good meal and a nice chat with the two of them. Souji promised her that next time he’d just wake Yosuke up, but they both knew it was an empty promise. Rise had more than few pictures as proof, after all.

#souyowrimo 2017 #souyo hell #souyo

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vernalagnia-blog · 7 years

Text

[Fanfiction] Thank You

Strong Woman Do Bong Soon - Slightly Canon Divergence: Do Bong Soon x Ahn Min Hyuk

In this universe, Bong Soon doesn’t work at Ainsoft as game developer because I want to keep their cute relationship free of unprofessional boss-employee trope. And there is no crazy murder kidnapping sub-plot either. Just pure fluffy stuff.

Taking off the watch, Ahn Min Hyuk signs. He debates the idea of working out a sweat and then sleep like a log but decides to hold back until he completes the regression testing of the latest game. The last batch of added new features are going well but he wants to make sure that the established features don’t catch any bug as well.

They are only a week away from the launch of a new game and everyone is in frenzy. He made sure that the cafeteria is open 24/7 and convert two other board rooms into secured napping areas for female employees apart from the usual sleeping corner. But all the catering efforts can’t erase a harsh truth of the gaming industry: his staffs are slowly becoming walking cross-bred between panda and zombie.

So he told everyone to go home today and leave a small team who has not pulled all-nighter stay behind for emergency calls.

He also needs a break from all the office buzz.

Flipping out the cellphone, he is about to set alarm clock for 10:15pm, hoping to catch a short nap before seeing a new message from Bong Soon. His heart swelled at the flashing bright yellow icon but soon flops at the two-sentence message:

“I will stay with grandma for two more nights. I will call you when I get back.”

“Is everything alright? Should I come and pick you up?”

“I know it’s summer but keep warm, don’t sleep in your sleeve-less shirt”

“Send grandma my hello. I will come visit her next week”

Sleep tight Bong Bong!

<3 <3 <3

Looking at the three fluttering heart icons, Min Hyuk lets out another sign. He misses her, really really misses her. He wants to hear her calling him Minmin, wants to see her, hug her and kiss her. But seeing how the messages are unread, she probably deserts the phone somewhere. And he doesn’t want to interrupt her quality time with grandma either. She only gets to see her a few times a year. Not to mention, grandma is sick. Bong Soon could be sick too. And he feels anxious about the possibility.

Tossing the phone on the nearby table, he goes for a shower, hoping to get rid of the murky feeling.

___________________

The regression test doesn’t go well.

At 2am, strained eyes and dampened spirit, Min Hyuk decides on a kitchen break and makes a cup of tea.

It is in times like this that makes him want to call Bong Soon just to hear her voice. But it’s too late into the night. The messages remain unread and it makes him a little lonely.

She’s only been away for three days and he feels like three months have passed.

It’s crazy to think how fast they have gone from being just two complete strangers to a couple in matter of months. No, deletes that statement, they were not completely strangers. He has known her for years. He has kept her in his heart since that Sunday morning, building her an altar and worshiping her devotedly as one would to a savior. He has looked for her traces in any girl in pink but she remains elusive. Just when he resigned to the idea that she was just a creation of his panic mind, Bong Soon stormed in and upended his life.

Sipping tea in front of the closet’s painting, Min Hyuk thinks of wonder and traces the contour of the canvas girl’s hidden face, making a mental note of calling Bong Soon first thing in the morning.

That is when his fingers brush past something plastic. It’s transparent and were put in places which are not very noticeable at the first glance. On a closer look, there are many of them dotting the painting and uncannily resemble sticky notes.

Picking one up for a better look, Min Hyuk realize it’s Bong Soon’s writing. The one he’s holding reads: “Minmin, don’t stay up too late” decorated with a cute drawing of a stick figure snoring out a string of Z letters in descendent size. That one draws a chuckle out of him.

Another draws a big bowl of steaming rice in the middle with a single line “you promise three meals a day” with a pouty face to accentuate the mood. He actually laughs out loud reading the note and feels a bit guilty all at once. He didn’t remember what he had for the last meal or when that last meal happens to be honest. The last few days were hectic and without her around, food doesn’t seem to taste anything.

One note is a reminder of him taking a break whenever the stabbing scar aches. It’s followed by a smaller line saying “I’m sorry.” His smile fades at the line but his eyes are warm. He has an overwhelming urge to drive all the way to Busan to hold and tell her that’s his decision, for his selfish wish of keeping her out of danger, his and his alone. It’s not her fault. And hope to kiss away her misplaced guilt. Oh, how he wishes to kiss her now.

There are quite a few of them sticking here and there. Some are just silly doodles. Some are tips for relaxing neck and shoulder muscle or how to make home-made eye patch. He smiles, laughs and feels warm inside. The unfinished tea has grown cold but Min Hyuk doesn’t notice.

___________________

2pm. Shit. He overslept.

Checking the phone, he saw one message from Secretary Gong assuring that they have received his notes on the regression test results and the development team are working on the issues. They will let him know asap if anything happens. It came in at 9am so work seems to be fine.

Stretching arms, he debates whether he should go to the office at this point but rationalize his choice to stay home as a testament of his amazing leadership skill. If everything can go smoothly without him, doesn’t it show how well he has trained the staff?

Messages to Bong Soon were marked as read but there is no reply. But strangely it doesn’t bother him as much. Maybe he should take this day off to visit grandma, and Bong Soon. Her transparent notes are laid neatly on his bedside table. He took picture of all of them last night and now they will be with him all day wherever he is.

Feeling excited over the idea of getting to Busan, he strolled into the kitchen to get water and almost chokes when Bong Soon chirpily greets him:

- Good afternoon sleepy head! I’m back!

Apparently Bong Soon is unfazed by his dramatic antic of dripping off water and goes on her monologue as usual:

- Grandma is getting better so she told me to go home. “A measly cold won’t kill me,” yeah, right, as if it’s not the reason she wasn’t able to get out of bed for three days. But Dad’s cold remedy and Bong Gi’s prescription seem to be working so she is up and around this morning. Gyeong Shim said she would come over to look after her tonight so that’s why I come back. Mom made so much side dishes, I brought some for you. I bet you haven’t eaten any since forever so should we have ‘linner’?

- Well, hello beautiful stranger, and I believe you mean ‘dinner’?

A shocked but very awake Min Hyuk lightly teases the cheerful woman unpacking several little containers at his kitchen table

- Well, dear sleepy stranger, I think ‘linner’ is the correct term. Remember ‘brunch’? What time do you think it is?

- You haven’t had lunch?

- Yeah, dad normally eats in shop, Bong Gi is at hospital as always, and mum is off to share the dishes with the neighborhood ladies. I don’t want to eat alone and plus…

Her voice trails off and she seems to be suddenly engrossed in knowing how many containers there are. Min Hyuk is dying to know what comes after her “plus” but they can come back to this “plus” after the meal, when she is well fed, less blushed and more comfortable. They have all the time of the world.

- Give me two minutes to wash up. Come right back.

He winks at her and skips to the bathroom.

Their ‘linner’ goes on well. Bong Soon told him about grandma and he fills her in about the regression test. They argues a bit over whether it’s time to pull out the Korean flag chopstick and Bong Soon doesn’t look convinced when he said it’s actually an interior design highlight. But he doesn’t lie when he said it’s endearing to him.

They ends up spending the afternoon lounging and absentmindedly watching tv. Head on her lap, he told her of the upcoming launch of the new game. It never fails to excite Bong Soon.

- Next week! Yay, I can’t wait to play it!

- And I can’t wait to not worry about it

- Aw, sleepy head, you will be worry-free soon, but I must admit, your workaholic self is sexier than your usual carefree CEO image.

He loves how her tease mixed with relaxing smile. In his signature move of pretending to be scandalized aka. hand-over-mouth, Min Hyuk signs exaggeratedly:

- Well, so no future break for me then. Who knows courting would be this demanding?

Bong Soon’s light kiss on his forehead feels ticklish.

- Don’t push yourself too hard. You have a one-week-of-working-per-month reputation to uphold

He chuckles lightly and leave a perk on her hand.

- Thanks for the notes by the way. They are awesome!

She quickly realizes what he refers to and smiles shyly.

- Oh that, so you found them

- Though the hiding place is quite unique

- Isn’t her me?

- That’s why you leave them there?

- I’m taking care of grandma so I can’t check the phone frequently. And I know you tend to…watch her…a lot…so I left the notes there just in case I can’t reply your messages right away.

- Thank you

- It’s nothing…do you like it?

- I like you

- Come on, you know what I mean

- I like you

- You’re messing with me

- I love you

The last sentence seems to make her blush more than usual. His strong woman, his love, his friend, his everything blushes when he says he loves her. Min Hyuk feels ecstatic. Her accepting silence emboldens him.

- I love you, love the fact that you appears in my life, love that I can protect you, and love that we are together, right now and forever

- Now you’re just cheesy

Bong Soon laughs lovingly.

- But what’s up with the stick figure? I don’t think I’m that skinny…or maybe I am. Time to get back to the weight bench. I have to tell you, I’m not a weight-lifting kind of guy, not really my style, I’m more treadmill type of guy, elegant and smooth…but you insist…

- I missed you, for the past three days.

- ...

- I miss you a lot it’s ridiculous. I miss you. I love you.

He can feel her hand in his is getting warmer. Min Hyuk doesn’t look up but he knows she is blushing. They’re both ridiculous, in love, and deliriously happy. And he doesn’t want it any other way. Putting her hand over his wildly beating heart, he mutters softly:

- Thank you, for loving me.

#strong woman do bong soon #fanfiction #fanfic #do bong soon #ahn min hyuk #kdrama

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baekhyunsahoe · 6 years

Text

pt 1 revised

“HOT GRILL!”

Chanyeol presses himself into the wall corner as a server passes through with a steaming iron plate in tow. He can feel the heat radiate right against his apron clad crotch and he holds back a whimper.

Whoever said working at EXO Korean BBQ house was easy clearly lied. Then again no one told him that. It’s Chanyeol’s fourth day as a runner and one thing he’s learned is that the floor is definitely a battlefield, a dimly illuminated in blue lights battlefield with each table armed with tongs and scissors as they throw their raw meat of choice onto the circular grill and watch it sizzle as the smoke rises and engulfs half the restaurant with fumes from the all-you-can-eat Korean barbeque goodness. They dine like kings seated upon white leather seated booths, employees their bitches for the night as they yell their order left and right. It’s loud in there after all. Deafening decimals of the top 40 booming, or when it’s near closing, trap music. It’s busy. Completely overwhelming. Chanyeol’s never really been too coordinated to begin with. He finds himself on his toes every second.

Upon finally deeming it safe to remove himself from becoming one with the side station, he finds the lapse in his judgment too late and nearly crashes into another coworker decked out in the all black button up collared dress shirt they all have to wear. BAEKHYUN, his name tag reads. He’s a rather pretty little thing with kohl rimmed eyes and soft looking dyed blonde hair. But then –

“Say corner next time,” he hisses, shoving Chanyeol deliberately with a bony shoulder.

“Got it,” Chanyeol winces with a pained smile. Sheesh.

Six more hours to go…

His break comes as a small miracle in life. It’s basically closing when Suho, the manager, pulls him aside, floor plan in hand.

“Go on your thirty.”

Chanyeol nods. He ignores his reflection staring back at him in the spectacles of the polite well-mannered yet just as aggressive as everyone else manager. He knew he looked like a hot mess, oil spills on his shirt and apron. What once was a youtube tutorial attempt at an updo probably a chaotic mop of hair on top of his head, black bangs sweaty and his forehead shiny with gel. You could honestly cook some Korean bbq on his face by this point… for free.

The fresh air of the outside world feels like heaven. Chanyeol takes a deep breath. It was dark out, and it’s probably way colder than it feels, but the restaurant is a nonstop overheated smoky pit of bulgogi and kalbi fumes, making the temperature outside beyond refreshing in comparison.

Chanyeol’s feet are killing him even as he sits on curb. The parking lot is still full and he sees customers walking in despite them basically reaching closing time. This establishment never turns away anyone though, so even at 11 o clock they accept business with open albeit aching arms.

It must be the longest time he hasn’t touched his phone in one day. He pulls it out of his backpack and sees a few snaps from Jongin. The fool’s drinking while studying for midterms. Chanyeol shakes his head a small smile on his face when he hears a loud bang from the kitchen back door behind him.

Out comes Baekhyun, apronless for once. Chanyeol’s never seen him without the apron, and he can’t help but check out his figure, tight black slacks hugging his noticeably shapely hips and slim thighs. He forces himself to look up before he becomes known as a creeper.

“Hi.” He greets somewhat scared because Baekhyun wasn’t exactly the friendliest person on the planet.

“What.” Baekhyun snaps at the same time he pulls a personal bottle of what looks like Hennessey from who knows where. He chugs it as Chanyeol blinks in shock and mild amazement. What a baddie.

“Um.”

“Are you gonna snitch?” Baekhyun drawls but shows no fear. His pink lips are wet. The light from the back of the building highlight him in an almost dramatic way. “Or did you want some?”

Chanyeol seriously goes over his options for a second. Accept and be a badass or refuse and basically write pussy BITCH on his forehead.

“Yeah sure.”

He gets up to his full height of 6 feet 2 inches. Baekhyun looks up at him and it’s the first time Chanyeol feels like he’s actually being seen as a person instead of a runner noob.

Baekhyun looks impressed himself, handing him the personal.

Chanyeol chugs it mindlessly trying hard to be cool but damn near chokes when he remembers how disgusting Hennessey was when warm and worse, no chase. He’s trying not to grimace but the laugh that comes out of Baekhyun’s mouth confirms his failure. He cant help but feel a little good about himself that he got Baekhyun to laugh though, or maybe it was the hot alcohol going down his throat and his body reacting immediately after not eating for almost 12 hours.

“Thank you.” Chanyeol breathes, wiping at his mouth. Baekhyun takes another swig killing the little bottle.

“You owe me.” Is all he says with a handsome smirk before walking back in leaving chanyeol buzzed and suddenly feeling the cold.

By the time he’s over Baekhyun’s laugh, his thirty is up.

-----

“Hey.”

Chanyeol’s grabbed roughly by the arm, no introduction no explanation, and dragged to section one – the godforsaken high-tops near the host stand.

Baekhyun lets go but not before shoving a broom and dustpan into Chanyeol’s hands.

“Clean my section for me,” Baekhyun orders, looking up at Chanyeol with an expectant look of sorts.

“Uh,” Chanyeol starts.

“It’s simple. Degrease the bowls, degrease the tables, sanitize it, sanitize the chairs and chair legs, wipe down the light and wooden panels, then sweep and mop the floor,” Baekhyun lists and Chanyeol has to seriously wonder if Baekhyun even knew what the word ‘simple’ meant. Before he can dwell too long Baekhyun finishes with a passive aggressive, “You owe me remember?”

Wow. Baekhyun really came to collect within an hour time frame. Is that how it was at this place?

“Okay,” Chanyeol agrees accepting his fate. That miniscule shot of heem wasn’t worth it to be honest. Like Chanyeol was buzzed for twenty minute then it went away.

Baekhyun steps closer. “Are you mad?”

“No!” Chanyeol splutters.

“Good,” Baekhyun smiles with satisfaction. “Don’t forget to do the set up. Plates, napkins, chopsticks.” Baekhyun retreats to the side station in two steps and comes back with a utensil in each hand. “Scissors and tongs. Got it?”

“Okay,” Chanyeol nods feeling tired already.

“Have a good night,” Baekhyun trails off, squinting at Chanyeol’s nametag. “Chanyeol.” He adds as if acknowledging Chanyeol indeed had a name makes the situation any better. Hearing him say his name did send a strangely delightful chill up Chanyeol’s spine though. “Bye.”

He leaves without wasting another second.

Chanyeol sighs, staring at the mess that is section one. Other people already look halfway done with their cleaning. Loud ratchet music is blasting from the speakers and everyone seems to be chilling but Chanyeol doesn’t know anyone and it seems people here aren’t too interested in getting to know fresh meat.

He gets to work, pulling on gloves after finally locating where they were stored to begin with. He regrets not bringing his earphones because the trap playlist was really not what he needed right now.

It’s been half an hour and he’s only on grill number two at table eleven. Chanyeol’s not sure if he’s slow af and sucks at this or if everyone else were just born with god given grill cleaning talent. It was probably a little of both.

He senses someone’s presence behind him right when he sees a shadow loom onto the table.

“Ha.”

Chanyeol turns around curious as to who decided to give him the time of day.

It’s a tall boy. He looks young with gaunt facial features and a big nose, but a baby face. He’s pretty cute like all the servers, Chanyeol guesses they all had to be attractive to work here however shallow that sounds. This particular staff member’s sleepy eyes are full of amusement and his black hair rocks high school style bangs making him look even younger.

“Yes?” Chanyeol prompts unsurely as the guy proceeds to just linger.

“He better be paying you for that,” he says.

Chanyeol finally notices his nametag – Sehun, it reads.

“What do you mean,” Chanyeol asks slowly.

“Baekhyun. Making you his bitch and all. Cleaning his section and stuff,” Sehun flicks a piece of kalbi bone off the table. “He should tip you out for it.”

“Oh.” Chanyeol doesn’t know why but his face burns at this. Is he really Baekhyun’s bitch? Why did he strangely have no problem with that? He shakes his head, “No it’s cool. I owed him a favor.”

“Already?” Sehun looks genuinely surprised. “You’ve barely been here twenty four hours.”

“It’s my fourth shift actually.”

“Exactly.” Sehun purses his lips as he nods. “Tell you what. I’ll help you clean once I’m done with my section but only if you personal run for me tomorrow.”

“Personal run?”

“Yeah. Wait do you even work tomorrow?”

Chanyeol thinks for a moment, summoning a mental image of his schedule into his mind. “Yeah.” He confirms. “Four to close.”

“Perfect! It’s busy on Saturdays and Suho doesn’t break me til 12am that fuck,” Sehun pouts a little. “I definitely need a runner if I want to make decent take home.”

Chanyeol’s never run for anyone before, mainly floor running with no designated server to attend to. Picking up empty plates off tables and clearing the expo line until it was time to go home. He still hasn’t mastered the art of carrying two trays which is pretty pathetic seeing as he is one of the taller workers and should be swole. Coming out with one tray looks sad.

“I’m down. I’ll be your runner,” Chanyeol confirms with finality and a genuine smile. Alas, someone was treating him like one of humankind!

Sehun grins back at him. “Sweet. I’ma teach you all you need to know.”

“Gee thanks!”

“I gotchu,” Sehun does the finger gun thing. “Baekhyun’s gonna be so jealous.” He snickers but before Chanyeol could ask what he means for the second time in barely a minute, goes on, “I’ma go finish up the plates, then I’ll be back to help you.”

“Thanks man.” Chanyeol says again, truly grateful.

Sehun does the finger thing once more and walks away, half twerking to ‘slob on my knob’ that booms loudly over the stereo.

Chanyeol can’t help but feel awkward hovering around section six as Sehun goes table to table taking orders. ‘Table touching’ he had called it. He squats to talk to customers, being tall as a teenage tree and all. Chanyeol takes note to do the same when he finally gets to be a server.

He observes the sweet eye-smile Sehun almost robotically has on his face like a mask. With every word he says to the guests, the smile is there. Then the moment’s over and Sehun rushes him to the side.

“I just fucking got slammed the host is such a cunt,” Sehun whispers loudly. “Tao’s lucky I got side and sauce setups or I’d beat his ass.” Sehun takes a deep breath appearing to do some practiced meditation breathing as Chanyeol sends a prayer to whoever this Tao guy is. “Anyway, here’s a list. You memorized the table numbers right?”

Chanyeol wants to say he barely gave the four by two section map a spare glance opting to inconspicuously peek at the written numbers on the table but nods instead. “Yup.” He says confidently.

“Awesome.” Sehun rips a piece of paper from his notepad. “Thirteen rice total and don’t forget the forks and all that extra shit these bitches asked for.”

“Okay.” Chanyeol can barely comprehend Sehun’s chicken scratch handwriting but okay.

Sehun salutes him, patting him on the shoulder. “Thanks hyung.”

Feeling good about himself at the respectful term, Chanyeol gets to work.

The first slam is a breeze. Twenty minutes in, Sehun pulls Chanyeol aside again and gestures to the section much in the way Mufasa did in the Lion King when he was explaining Pride Rock.

“You see this? This is the chill stage. Everyone’s chilling,” he dramatically points at random guests. “She’s chilling. He’s chilling. They’re chilling so we’re chilling,” Sehun smiles looking like a proud father. “They got their first round of meats and their drinks,” he pauses, squinting at a cloud of smoke. “Actually. Have you ever changed a grill before?

“No…” Chanyeol answers slowly secretly hoping it would never have to come to this. Grill changing anxiety was real.

Sehun claps a hand on his shoulder.

“You gon learn today.”

It’s a terrifying experience, being in control of people’s lives by the burning hot grill in your hands, trying to make sure no dumbass accidentally touches it or moves in the way. You gotta be a hundred and one percent aware of your surroundings. Chanyeol now understands why most servers yelling hot grill look intense and stressed, near death experiences and all.

The new grill slams down atop the burner and the customers are amazed. Chanyeol’s amazed at himself too.

“Thank you!” They say enthusiastically. Chanyeol smiles as beads of nervous sweat form and drip down his face.

“HOT GRILLLLLLLLLLLLLL.” He screeches as he walks. “Hotgrillhotgrillhotgrill CORNER.” He makes it to the dish pit and drops off the grill. Success, he thinks.

When he turns around, Baekhyun’s leaning against the wall, sipping on his straw with what looks to be soda. Or it could be Hennessey again who knows.

“Good job,” Baekhyun tells him but despite the compliment sounds sarcastic as hell.

Chanyeol nods in a half bow and rushes out. Damn Baekhyun looked good. He must have just clocked in because he was sans apron and full view of sexy hips and – Chanyeol chances a double take and yep. Baekhyun had a nice ass. It wasn’t really a surprise. All his personality traits just screamed ‘I can act like this because I have a nice ass’.

When nine pm rolls around, Chanyeol’s previous assumption that things would slow down is shoved down his throat. The wait is at two hours, the lobby is swamped, no one’s gone on their break, and Chanyeol doesn’t even have time to spare to take a much needed piss.

Sehun’s warped into a military commander, barking orders with a hot flush on his face and sleeves rolled all the way up.

“Tao’s slamming me for fun,” Sehun pants, eyes narrowed to slits, pretending his hands are binoculars as he glares straight into Tao’s being at the host stand. “That asshole. There’s other sections open too you know but he doesn’t care. Too lazy to walk to the other side of the damn restaurant. Ugh, fuck this shit.” Sehun looks on the verge of an emotional breakdown. Chanyeol feels bad that he couldn’t make things easier for him. As far as hes concerned runners are there to allow the server more time with their tables.

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol apologizes.

“Nah you’re good. We’re just understaffed. Like severely understaffed. No one’s bussing the tables. No one’s changing the grills fast enough. And last but not least, no one’s running the food. When the kitchen gets backed up, we’re all fucked.” Sehun looks at his ipad. “It’s been more than ten minutes. I gotta get table sixty five’s meats. Shit, I haven’t even gotten their drinks yet. Can you grab them some waters at the bar?”

“Got it!”

Chanyeol’s never actually gotten drinks for tables before. He’s never even met the bartender. The bar zone is another battlefield altogether. A bunch of drinks are on the black mats atop the red marble counter. Tickets are sloppily stuck on the side of the glass, labeling the drink, server name, table, and even the time. Some are from twenty minutes ago. That wasn’t good. Chanyeol moves into action, grabbing six water glasses and puts them on the circular tray, praying he won’t drop this shit as soon as he runs it.

He’s pouring the water and ice, half missing as he tries to multi task and shove straws into each cup.

When he’s done with the pitchers, a dark looming presence that’s impressive from a rather short guy makes itself known.

“Are you not capable of the simple task of placing empty pitchers to the right side of the bar?” Kyungsoo, his name tag reads, apparently the bartender, says calmly but with a cut throat icy tone. His big eyes beat Chanyeol’s own wide ones.

“My bad.” Chanyeol says distractedly nearly spilling a glass of water.

“Put the empty pitchers on the right side of the bar.”

Chanyeol does as he told and gets another scolding. “My right,” Kyungsoo emphasizes.

Chanyeol wants badly to answer back because he did not clarify that but he bites his tongue and does as he’s told.

He barely hears a ‘behind you’ of a familiar voice as he’s lifting his tray of glasses and if Baekhyun hadn’t swerved left when Chanyeol turned around a full on wet collision would have taken place.

“I said behind you,” Baekhyun snaps at him.

Chanyeols pouting now, tired of getting yelled at. “I didn’t hear you.” He says under his breath not making eye contact.

“Then fucking listen next time. Your ears are big enough.”

Chanyeol’s taken aback at the unsolicited insult. R00d, he thinks.

He miraculously makes it back to section six without spilling his tray, and drops the drinks off at 65.

They’re a group of young guys around their early 20’s all dressed fashionably in snapbacks and hoodies. There’s a few bottles of soju and giant Hite bottles already on their table despite having just got seated not too long ago. Must have started drinking during the wait time.

“Yo thanks!” One of them with bunny teeth and an innocent boy-next-door face whoops. Buzzed, Chanyeol observes.

“No problem.”

“Are you a server too?”

“Where’s Sehun?”

“I’m hungry!”

“Is Jin hyung working today?”

Chanyeol’s bombarded with questions and suddenly feels overwhelmed. Maybe he isn’t suited for server life. Having to actually be constantly interacting with tables no with strangers basically... hungry strangers. Drunk strangers.

“Sehun’s getting your food, guys.” Chanyeol says politely. “And I’m not sure who Jin hyung is. Sorry.”

“Aw man! No hooks up today.”

“It’s his birthday!”

“Can you sing for him?”

“Shut the fuck up!” the one who’s birthday it apparently was hisses. He’s a really pale slim guy on the very end of the booth near Chanyeol. He seems to be consumed by his oversized black hoodie and looks miserable but chill at the same time.

“But Yoongi-hyung! You get pineapples!”

“I loathe pineapples, Jimin.”

Jimin frowns as ‘Yoongi hyung’ stabs at a spicy radish banchan.

Another male on the opposite of the end of the booth tugs at Chanyeol’s sleeve. His melanin is popping and he’s got a video game character slash manga boy look about him along with a quite charming box shaped smile. “Can you guys sing for him later? His name is Yoongi, say he’s turning 87 years old.”

“I can hear you, Taehyung,” Yoongi seethes. “I’m not 87 years old.”

“Then stop acting like it!”

Chanyeol finds himself with the plastered on robotic smile like Sehun earlier and finally understands why. Customers be so needy and they all talk at once! He couldn’t imagine what it’d be like if it was a bigger party, or when they were ordering side dishes. Shudder. He wishes badly for Sehun to pop up and take him away from all this… this… customer service.

“Don’t mind them. They’ve had a few,” a smooth voice from the far end of the table says. This guy looks more mature and notably more sober than the others. His silver hair peeks out beneath a black beanie with the letters RM. “Just checking up but no rush or nothing, do you know if our food’s coming? We’re famished.”

“Oh! Yeah lemme go check in the kitchen for you.” Chanyeol’s right about to flee the scene when he sees Sehun approaching with 2 trays in hand. Full hands in full hands out yo. He passes one to Chanyeol and steps into the limelight.

“Hey guys! Sorry about that! I had to run some food but I’m back and I got your order! Yay!” Sehun drops the food one by one with lightning speed. “Beef bulgogi, double order brisket, beef belly, and spicy calamari.” He turns gracefully and grabs at the food in Chanyeol’s tray. “Also the appetizers, popcorn chicken, fried calamari and japchae.”

Jimin is about to open his mouth to say something but Sehun cuts him off. “Don’t worry your soondooboois on the way. Just about 5 min, okay? They gotta make sure the soup is nice and hot for you! Sorry about that!”

“No, it’s okay! Thank you!”

Sehun walks Chanyeol away and sighs. “Thanks for taking care of them. Theyre regulars. Young but they tip pretty fat. Rare for millenials let me tell you that. Jin’s friends though. Before you ask, Jin’s main cashier. He’s off today. I’m surprised he’s not with them – ”

“— it’s the Yoongi guy’s 87th birthday.” Chanyeol blurts before he forgets.

Sehun laughs. “Oh god. He’s gonna kill us for singing. I’m so excited. This is gonna be fun. I’ma send in the pineapples in about 45 minutes.”

“Why pineapples?”

“We don’t have any birthday specials here but we do give a free plate of pineapples and sing.”

“Oh.”

“It’s better than nothing.” Sehun shrugs. “Anyway, once I get those, I want you to ask everyone available to do a birthday for us.”

“Copy that.” Chanyeol salutes. Sehun grins.

“You’re doing great by the way.”

Chanyeol grins back.

Time passes differently inside EXO Korean BBQ house. One second it’s five pm the next it’s been three and a half hours. It’s a bit insane and almost feels like Chanyeol is in a whole other world completely. Hence, the forty five minutes until the birthday comes in the blink of an eye.

The adrenaline rush is definitely hitting Chanyeol by this point.

Sehun’s been reminding him a catchy but kinda lame ‘teamwork really makes the dreamwork’ with every checkbook he obsessively opens once the table is out the door, never failing to grin borderline maniacally at the 25% tip they’ve been getting.

“Bless,” Sehun cheers. “Suho better give me a strawberry soju cocktail for this.”

Chanyeol laughs. “I wouldn’t mind that either.”

“Yeah sure you deserve a shot! You’ve done well Yeollie. Can I call you that? Do people call you that?”

“Not really but it’s fine.” Tbh Chanyeol hated that nickname bc wtf. “As long as I get to call you Sehunnie.”

“Nevermind.”

They share another laugh and then lo and a behold, a random fellow server pops out.

“Hi Chen.” Sehun chirps. “Whatcha got there?”

“Your birthday pineapples, bitch.”

“Damn you stay on them birthday pineapples.”

“Well when you got vocals such as I then yes. You never know when you’ll get discovered and if it’s through singing happy birthday at a restaurant then so be it,” his finely chiseled jawbones are more pronounced as a foxy grin spreads across his face. He turns to Chanyeol. “Hi. Don’t believe we’ve met. New guy right?”

“Yeah that’s me. New guy.”

“Ha you’re funny. I like you, new guy.”

“Watch out. He says that to everyone he think he can take advantage and manipulate into doing his dirty work,” Sehun warns playing around on his ipad.

“Hey!” Chen interjects. Chanyeol grins, feeling more at home and part of the EXO fam now. It was a good feeling.

“Anyway. Birthday time. Get like two or three more people, okay? And maybe a clean grill so you can bang on that shit and get everyone’s fucking attention.” Sehun dictates.

“On my way.”

Chanyeol speeds around the restaurant looking for non-busy folks. Fail – everyone basically says no or ignores him when he asks, sad face. Alright then, so maybe not quite part of the EXO fam yet.

He bumps into Baekhyun unintentionally. A cute shocked ‘ah!’ leaves Baekhyun’s mouth, and seriously it’s so cute but almost sexual that Chanyeol’s face burns. Wild, wild thoughts.

“Say ‘behind you’!” Baekhyun practically shouts at him looking scandalized. Chanyeol just stares, a bit flabbergasted at the feisty little thing Baekhyun was. A loud huff. “What do you want?”

“Birthday?” Chanyeol finally remembers his mission in life.

“Ugh,” Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “Fine. Come on.”

Chanyeol can’t help the big goofy smile on his face at Baekhyun actually agreeing to do something nice for him well technically for Sehun but still. Progress, people.

They weave through the crowd of servers and customers alike with the grace of a seasoned employee. For once in Chanyeol’s life his clumsy demeanor is absent. Maybe actually putting a conscious effort to stop fucking up was all it took. Or maybe motivation. He stares at Baekhyun’s fluffy blonde hair and swears he can catch a whiff of mild sweet cologne. Of course Baekhyun probably had magical powers to still remain bulgogi and kalbi scent free even halfway through his shift. This guy was just way too attractive for his own good. Chanyeol is wondering ridiculously what his zodiac sign is when Baekhyun abruptly stops.

Chanyeol crashes right into him just as Baekhyun throws his hand behind him to stop Chanyeol albeit a little too late. His hand lands directly where the sun don’t shine, against Chanyeol’s groin or in Layman terms – full on dick smack. Ouch.

Chanyeol groans, low and pained and would very much like to keel over at his premature demise, but with the intertia still in full effect, he stumbles into Baekhyun’s shoulder instead. This brings him right against Baekhyun’s ass and despite just getting hit down there, feels his cock twitch as blood rushes down. Oh no noono.

“Can you watch out?” Baekhyun asks as if it was his fault and blatantly ignoring what he had done to Chanyeol’s family jewels.

“I am sorry.” Chanyeol dryheaves, seeing stars.

Still in the midst of getting it together, Chanyeol sees a server in front of Baekhyun pulling back after replacing a burnt grill from the table right in front of them. So that’s what caused this random traffic jam in the first place. Then Baekhyun’s peering back at him.

“Are you okay?” Baekhyun asks with an amused smirk.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He’s not.

Baekhyun looks down for a brief moment then back up into Chanyeol’s eyes again. “That was your thing wasn’t it?”

OH my god, Chanyeol thinks. Is he seriously asking that right now?! Freakin’ specifically and shit? Chanyeol doesn’t know what to say! And he’s sure his face is red as a tomato.

“I – it – “

Baekhyun laughs again. The second time Chanyeol’s got him to and the 77% chance of never being able to have children due to untimely hot grill induced dick smacks seems worth it.

“Well get used to it,” Baekhyun advises. “It happens a lot here.”

Chanyeol has no idea why the hell that is a thing that happens a lot here and truthfully that’s a little scare and almost enough to make him turn in his two weeks but then Baekhyun’s snickering giving Chanyeol reason to believe this little shit was just fucking with him. Heck, that was probably on purpose. They finally make it to section six, Chanyeol speechless the whole way not trusting himself to not blurt out WHY YOU HIT MY DICK and dramatically explain it has feelings too, you know.

Sehun, Chen and a few others have already appeared to have gathered around table sixty five.

“FINALLY!” Sehun shouts.

“Shut up,” Baekhyun says with no bite.

“His name is Yoongi,” Sehun tells everyone then they’re in a single file line of tall men in black looking like a squad. Gang gang.

Sehun suddenly bends down and brings his hand to his mouth as he booms,

“Ayeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee we got a birthday.”

“AYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE WE GOT A BIRTHDAY!” the rest of group echos almost deafeningly. Table sixty joins in, cheering madly looking incredibly shit faced.

“Hey everyone we got a birthday in the house. His name is Yoongi and he’s turning 87 years old today!” the crowd laughs as Yoongi looks absolutely livid, mortified, and tipsy all at the same time. He sinks down into his seat. Sehun’s got the pineapples in front of him and three hands reach out with torch lighters lighting up almost comically. “Let’s all sing him happy birthday!”

Chanyeol thinks he’s singing loud but it’s drowned out by the whole crowd. It’s a bit moving, hearing everyone sing. Strangers who don’t even know you all singing and helping you feel special on your birthday. It was making Chanyeol weirdly sentimental. The added ‘WOO’ with every line also made it fun and silly. Chen apparently wasn’t lying about his vocal skills. Hella extra but damn. People were loving it even as he did an unsolicited high note of Yoongi’s name in the background for no real reason.

Chanyeol’s enjoying the whole scene unfolding when he finally hears Baekhyun singing. If he wasn’t already sprung off his ass for the guy he would be now. Even though it’s quite a ruckus in there, he can clearly hear him and if that wasn’t the loveliest sound he’s heard in his life... he doesn’t realize he’s staring, captivated, until Baekhyun turns his head and catches his gaze.

His eyes are lit up from all the flames of the torch lighters, red orange embers dancing in his dark irises and Chanyeol cannot fathom how anyone can be so heartstoppingly divine. He’s effortlessly gorgeous and he’s more beautiful than the moment.

Its over too fast. There’s yelling, clapping, some howling and a random ass Lil Jon style YEEEEEEEEEEA-YUHHHHHHHHHH.

The rest of the servers disperse just as quickly as they assimilated.

Sehun’s just finished having a conversation with table sixty five – all chanyeol heard was soju cocktails on the house – and then he finds himself huddled in a nearby corner, Sehun on his left and Baekhyun on his right.

“How is he?” Baekhyun asks Sehun, and Chanyeol realizes he’s referring to him but straight up acting like he wasn’t there.

Sehun gives a thumbs up with no hesitation. “Good! He’s good.”

“Hm,” Baekhyun doesn’t look convinced. “I wouldn’t know. Never had him.”

“Yet!” Sehun gestures almost lazily at Chanyeol. “Do you want him?”

The question is about serving and running but geez it sounds weird and questionable and makes Chanyeol’s cheeks burn a little at the words if taken out of context.

“I’m good,” Baekhyun says flippantly, but then he moves up against Chanyeol, real close, so close it brings his soft looking lips millimeters away from Chanyeol’s collar as he looks up at him. “He’s all yours.”

Chanyeol can’t meet his gaze, his eyes drop to those kissable lips, he can’t stop staring at them. Baekhyun licks said lips, wetting them probably because its’ so smoky in here so they had a tendency to get chapped but haha was that not sexual as fuck? Or so help me. Or help Chanyeol. Yeah Chanyeol needs help. Baekhyun’s really making him question his morals because his presence alone is enough to get Chanyeol junior stirring in the confines of his slacks.

“You owe me again.” Is all Baekhyun says but in a quite voice intended for only Chanyeol to hear. Then he’s walking away without sparing him another glance.

Chanyeol feels frozen to the spot but hot all over.

God, Baekhyun…. He was so damn fine, fuhhhhhhhhh. FUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

“Soooooooooooo,” Sehun raises an eyebrow slowly, arms crossed, seemingly picking up on the thicc sexual tension lingering in the air. “Wanna run for him?”

“Huh?” Chanyeol’s still out of it.

“Baekhyun. He doesn’t like to admit it but he needs a runner sometimes. I seen his section burning because he’s too busy flirting with customers.” Sehun picks at a fingernail.

“What makes you think I want to run for him?” Chanyeol gets defensive, feeling a bit ashamed at being so easy to read.

Sehun rolls his eyes. “Please like I haven’t seen the way you look at him. He’s got the same effect on half the human population.”

“Are you saying I look at him?”

“Yes, Sherlock Holmes.”

“I don’t look at him,” Chanyeol denies hurriedly.

“Relax,” Sehun laughs. “I’m not gonna tell him. Though he probably already knows. But I can request Suho to put you on the floor plan as a runner for him.”

“Would that really be a good idea…”

“Sure! One of the things about EXO, is we are one! There’s no front of the house or back of the house we are all one. We like to make sure we’re a team and that we can work well together. This will be the perfect opportunity to develop a good relationship with Baekhyun hyung. He’s an amazing server. He makes the most tips every shift. You can learn a lot from him.”

Develop a good relationship? Chanyeol’s got different things in mind. Shit. nooo. Can’t think that way. Unresolved sexual tension will not help this situation.

“I don’t know... he doesn’t seem to like me very much.” Chanyeol sighs piling up a few empty plates.

“Nonsense!” Sehun booms throwing his hand up for emphasis and nearly smacking a guest in the face as he does so. He leans closer. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you too.” He winks and goes back to table touching.

Chanyeol bites his lip, eyes searching for Baekhyun through the busy bustling restaurant. His heart stops, then skips several beats and refuses to go back to normal when he sees the object of his desire staring back.

Chanyeol goes home that night with more than house tip. His first runner tip out. Sehun had been generous. Fifty bucks is pretty good for a tip out. Most runners only get 10% but Sehun said he had kicked ass and was a natural and I quote ‘would be serving in no time.’

Jongin’s still up at their shared one bedroom. He’s in the living room which is technically his area of the apartment, six beers deep, still in his pajamas, and playing Monster Hunter.

“Yo.”

“Whaddup.”

“Tired as shit,” Chanyeol kicks off his shoes.

“You smell like straight up Korean samgyubsal dude,” Jongin scrunches his nose.

“And you smell like bad life decisions,” Chanyeol eyes the empty pack of beer and the half full bottle of jameson. “What’s the occasion?”

“Midterms over. Got a D. I’m celebrating.” Jongin shrugs. “Wanna join me?”

“Wow you finally got the D.”

“That joke is as old as your virginity.”

“I am not – “

Okay, but he is. Was it weird??? He’s like twenty four… he may have never had a real relationship before but that doesn’t mean something was wrong with him! Was it his fault if his three focuses in life growing up was family, school, and gaming?! ‘Scuse him if he never took the time to hoe around. Matter of fact, a lot of girls and even guys found Chanyeol attractive. Things just… never worked out. And and and it’s not like he was a pure holy virgin angel nun or something! No he’s seen a boobie or two. He’s definitely kissed before; drunken make outs reign supreme in the formative college years. So yeah! He was like Mother Theresa on the hood of a Mercedes Benz. Innocent, but not thaaaaaaaaat innocent... or something. Damn, it’s hard to defend his honor. Deciding vehemently in his mind, this was HIS choice and it’s totally normal and ONLY GOD CAN JUDGE HIM and he’s actually lucky because he is waiting for someone special, Chanyeol gets back to the subject at hand. DRINKING. Chanyeol doesn’t know why the hell not he wouldn’t. His body is aching all over and the exhaustion is starting to set in. A beer or two sounded wonderful. He opts to take a quick shower to get the stench of bulgogi off him but the quick shower turns in to a twenty minute jacking off session.

Dark eyes, light hair, the hottest piece of ass he’s ever seen…

And an aggressive but beautiful and intoxicating Baekhyun telling Chanyeol to fuck him harder.

“Ah fuck,” Chanyeol hisses as he comes everywhere. What a huge load.

If Sehun’s true to his word and gets Chanyeol as a runner for Baekhyun, it’s gonna take a lot of pre shift jizz sessions to stop the inevitable boners a certain server will give him.

Chanyeol ignores the beer and goes straight for the hard liquor, hating how everything was more and more reminding him of someone he’s only known for a few days and didn’t really respect him but was slowly taking over his existence.

“You good?” Jongin slurs, looking worried but mostly drunk.

Chanyeol gives him two thumbs up and reaches for the controller.

Running for Baekhyun turns out to be as sexually frustrating as Chanyeol’s fantasies predicted it to be.

At first, the animosity was strong.

“Who said you could run for me?” Baekhyun had asked when Chanyeol was clocking in fumbling with his apron trying not to stare at Baekhyun’s ass. “I don’t need a runner.”

“Am I running for you?” Chanyeol asks innocently, deciding to play dumb like he did not know that that was the original plan Sehun had made last night.

That gets Baekhyun shoving the PM floor plan to Chanyeol’s face. “What does it say?”

“Oh. I guess I am.” Chanyeol gulps nervously. Why the hell was Baekhyun so worked up, sheesh. “I can just not run for you, if you want…”

“And have Suho up my ass? No thanks,” Baekhyun pauses, a thoughtful look on his face. He steps closer. “Are you even good?”

“W-what,” Chanyeol stammers at the close proximity. Baekhyun’s breath smells just like the minty gum he was chewing.

“Are you good?”

“Uh, Sehun said I was good.”

“Sehun also said you wanted to fuck me,” Baekhyun says with a roll of his eyes and it’s not sure if its jokingly or sarcastically, if it was a test, or what.

Chanyeol opens his mouth to say something, he doesn’t even know what there is to say to that but then Baekhyun goes on.

“Anyways, I want you close to me at all times. Bother me. Ask me what I need. I don’t wanna see you running off helping others. If someone else asks you for something, ignore them. You’re my runner, so you run only for me. Do you understand that?” Baekhyun’s speech sounds like a weird bdsm euphemism but Chanyeol nods repeatedly to every word he says.

“Okay,” Baekhyun’s voice is sweet. He must have a thing for telling people what to do. “Let’s go then.” There he goes again…

“ESKEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETIT!” Someone yells from the dish pit, adding comedy to the otherwise tense moment.

Chanyeol follows behind Baekhyun, eyes trying not to enjoy the view too much.

He’s failing miserably though. He keeps glancing down – down at Baekhyun’s ass. Ugh. He’s so sexy. He wants to reach out and touch it. But he’s sure Baekhyun wouldn’t appreciate that so he keeps his hands to himself. It’s getting impossible to keep his thirst lowkey when Baekhyun’s around though and Baekhyun being all nice and cordial isn’t helping. Chanyeol knows it’s simply because he’s basically his slave today and tips depend on how well they perform as a tag team duo.

But… like…

Baekhyun is touchy feely as fuck.

It’s half way through the dinner rush when Chanyeol begins to reach his limits. Baekhyun wasn’t like this the first few hours, but in the next few hours that followed Chanyeol noticed Baekhyun’s been on three bathroom breaks which were probably not for peeing but for chugging more of his personal. Each time he returns, his breath no longer smells of minty gum but instead pure alcohol of the cognac variety.

And the alcohol definitely loosens Baekhyun up.

It’s small and subtle gestures that Chanyeol doesn’t notice at first. Baekhyun constantly asks if he’s okay, but in a sweet touchingly concerned tone with matching sincerity in his beautiful perfect eyes. Second, he keeps thanking Chanyeol and using the word ‘please’ when he needs something. That was doing bad things to Chanyeol’s mind but let’s not go there. It’s little things like this that’s got Chanyeol feeling like he’s gonna spontaneously combust. Now when Baekhyun asks for something, he leans in so close, the way he looks up at Chanyeol with a smile, the same smile Chanyeol knows is the fake sweet robotic smile all servers do but to have it directed at him from Baekhyun – shit’s got him weak. Baekhyun is cute, sexy and irresistible. He’s charming when he wants to be and not only using it on his tables but he’s using it on Chanyeol too. And Chanyeol doesn’t really know why. He hopes there’s more to it thant the alcohol talking.

“Chanyeollie,” Baekhyun tugs him to the side station and proceeds to eliminate the space between them, bringing their chest right against each other as he moves his mouth to Chanyeol’s ear. It seems to be done in an effort to get his words to reach Chanyeol since it’s extremely loud in the restaurant at the moment but wasn’t this a bit much?

“Y-yes??”

“I need you,” Baekhyun breathes against his neck. So so wrong, Chanyeol thinks. That sounds so wrong. Ugh. He swallows hard.. Baekhyun continues. “If you didn’t know,” he murmurs, “We just got slammed. I’ve taken all their drink orders, and I can get the rice and side dishes but I want you to get the drinks. Can you do that for me?”

Chanyeol’s heart is racing. It’s hammering so loudly in his chest at how close Baekhyun is to him, Chanyeol doesn’t think its possible for his heart to beat this rapidly but here we are.

“Okay, I’ll get it.” Chanyeol tries stepping back but he’s trapped against the wall.

Baekhyun looks up at him. They’re within kissing distance for crying out loud. There’s a pink flush high on Baekhyun’s cheekbones, another give away he certainly has been drinking. He looks adorable… and so doable. Shit.

“Thanks,” Baekhyun’s sultry gaze drops down to Chanyeol’s lips. Chanyeol thinks it’s his imagination he swears it is but nope, Baekhyun’s hella staring right at his mouth. “I owe you,” He says slowly and just as slowly drags his gaze back up to meet Chanyeol’s eyes again. Then he licks his lips and smiles. “Go.”

Chanyeol’s temporarily stunned into the side station even minutes after Baekhyun saunters back to section seven.

Shit. Shiiiiiiiiiiiiit. Chanyeol can’t feel his legs. He can’t feel anything but the shameful tug of arousal pooling in all sorts of heated desperation and lust around his lower stomach and groin. He’s never felt this turned on. He never wanted someone this much. Baekhyun could probably burn his ass with a hot grill and he’d still wanna hit that. This was getting out of control.

“Are you okay?” Sehun asks him at the bar as Chanyeol robotically fills 16 glasses of water on one tray.

“Yes.”

“That’s a lot of waters.”

“Yes.”

“Baekhyun making you do all the hard labor huh?”

Chanyeol snaps. “What exactly is his deal anyway?”

Sehun looks amused. “Watcha mean?”

“Why is he so. He’s acting different today.”

“Probably drunk. He always drinks on the job when he has a runner.”

“I know he’s drunk or whatever. But like. I’m getting whiplash here. One second he’s – but then. Ugh. Is he usually, you know. Like that…?” Chanyeol makes wild gestures that don’t mean shit.

Sehun snickers. “The fuck?”

Chanyeol doesn’t know how to say it. He’s probably trippin’, this is wishful thinking and Baekhyun isn’t making moves or seducing him, he’s just being nice and Chanyeol’s taking it the wrong way because everyone’s kind of a dick here and speaking of dicks apparently his is a poor depraved soul that needs some bad.

“Nevermind,” he says instead feeling stupid. He distractedly grabs sixteen straws and starts stabbing them into the water.

A laugh from Sehun. “Oh boy. Don’t tell me he’s already got you all riled up? It’s been three hours.”

Yeah three hours of nonstop touches – touches to Chanyeol’s bicep, lower back, and Baekhyun had a habit of backing up into Chanyeol I’m talking ass to groin and remaining in that position while he tells him what to do. To ‘overlook his section’ most likely but WTF. Who talks to people in that position? Baekhyun that’s who. Chanyeol’s already practiced blaming any felt hardness on his ipad in his apron pocket if anything were to pop up. Which it almost did… many times. Chanyeol was having a record of how many semis he can get in one day.

Shaking his head, he lets out a frustrated groan, the most distraught emotions he’s ever shown at EXO. “He’s hella on me,” Chanyeol blurts feeling dumb again and very teenage boy.

Sehun stirs a strawberry lemonade. “Uh yeah. That’s Baekhyun. You should be happy though. It really seemed like he hated your guts but now it looks like he’s tryna get you up in his. Teambuilding!”

Somehow Chanyeol doesn’t think hoeing around with your coworkers means team building but sure. Let’s go with that.

He decides not to say anything more. Can Sehun even really be trusted? All the servers here seem to have a dark side. It was like an anime where all the heroes have an alter ego or some shit.

Dropping off the drinks is like the hard level of a roblox obstacle course. Everyone’s literally in the damn way even on a Sunday evening. No one seems to care when he says behind you. Chanyeol was steadily heading towards his first EXO mental breakdown.

“There you are,” Baekhyun calls out heading towards Chanyeol once the drinks were all set. “Are you ok?”

“Yes. Hi.” Chanyeol says through gritted teeth. Baekhyun may as well be the devil in disguise. All the sins in Chanyeol’s mind were making him want to drown himself in some holy water. He didn’t get it. He’s never usually like this. It was making him a bit disgusted with himself.

“I’m going on my thirty. Can you watch over the section?” Baekhyun strokes Chanyeol’s arm as he asks. What the fuck –

“Yeah I can do that. Is everyone good right now.”

“Mhm.” Baekhyun gestures to a party of sixteen. “I know those guys. They’re hella chill. They shouldn’t give you any trouble. I’ve already told them I’m going on break. So just 74 or 75 arent part of their group. 74 are harmless little ahjumma’s, charm them with your dimple. The other is a group of thots, charm them with your deep voice, maybe act like you wanna bone them or something.” Baekhyun explains quickly then pulls Chanyeol down by the collar, “ – but don’t actually do that.” He glares playfully then nearly gives Chanyeol a heartattack as he shoves his ipad into Chanyeol’s apron pocket which is oh you know, right near his crotch. Dear god, Chanyeol thinks. “You got this!”

Then he’s off, and heading towards the back room.

Chanyeol doesn’t notice it’s Baekhyun at the party of sixteen until 8 minutes later. He’s got a burgundy windbreaker on over his uniform and he’s pulled up a chair right next to an extremely good looking mofo that makes up head count number one in the cockfest of chinese dudes at the table. Chanyeol had to admit, the guy had the face of a model and he looked tall too if his giant yaoi hands were anything to go by. He was also a blonde, dyed and dirty with an undercut that looked fresh. This guy must get haircuts every two weeks to maintain that shit. Do you even know how much haircuts cost these days?! This guy’s loaded. There was no other explanation. His resting bitch face only disappeared into a gummy smile whenever they raised their soju bombs to cheers or when Baekhyun opened his mouth.

Baekhyun was clearly lit by this point, he had taken way too many shots of the cocktail and the soju bombs. Chanyeol didn’t know if it was jealousy that was pissing him off or the blatant disregard to the rules. Then he sees Baekhyun massaging the Ballin Bi-weekly Haircut guy’s thigh from under the table as he giggles and Chanyeol nearly walks out. What. A fucking. Hoe.

“Excuse me, can we get a grill change please?” one of the girls from the table of thots ask sweetly, batting her fake lashes.

“Okay.” Chanyeol lifelessly grabs a clean grill from the side station making sure to mean mug Baekhyun's fine ass man friend as he does so. He gets ignored, existence forgotten and sighs as he switches the grills at 74.

“Thank you! You’re the best!” the girls gush.

“No problem,” Chanyeol’s mastered the fake smile early in the game. He wonders how many smiles here were actually genuine because he knows his isn’t anymore. Can he have a fucking shot right now too?

Speak of the devil – Baekhyun looks up just as Chanyeol booms ‘hot grill’ like a war cry.

“Chanyeollie! Hey. Want a shot?” he offers as if he’s part of this table, not working or anything.

“No thanks.” Chanyeol says, pride stopping him.

“Come on, dude. Live a little.” The guy beside Baekhyun says, smiling. The fuck, why was he smiling? Once again – WERE ANY SMILES SINCERE HERE? The world may never know.

“I’m working,” Chanyeol says politely but it comes off harsh.

Baekhyun laughs. “Sorry guys. He’s new.”

“It’s cool. I respect his work ethics.”

“What about my work ethics?”

“What work ethics?”

Baekhyun hits him. It’s flirtatious. “Kris!” he whines. That was flirtatious too. Chanyeol’s eyes darken and he angrily moves away. KriiiiiiiiiSSssssss, his mind mocks.

They’re so casual with each other. Definitely fucking. Chanyeol wants to die. Why must all the good ones be hoes?

He drops off the dirty grill and notices the time. Hasn’t it been more than 30 min? Where the fuck was the manager? Did he not care?

He sneaks into the back to peer into the office and sees Sehun in there, back facing him talking to who was probably Suho.

“My schedule is fucked. I asked you for Wednesday off weeks ago!”

“Sehun, please calm down.”

“I’ve been waiting for so long but you’ve still never made the time. You suck!”

“Sehun – babe, please – ”

Babe? Woooooooooooooooah.

Realization dawns upon Chanyeol that this is most likely not a conversation he should be hearing. He’s about to slowly walk away like a ninja in the night but Sehun senses him and catches his eye. Shit. Chanyeol runs off.

He gets the check for 74 and 75. Takes orders for the other side of the party and even grabs rice for another servers section. By then Baekhyun is still straight chillin.

Chanyeol can’t stand anymore of this BS. He’s not gonna make a scene or anything he wasn’t the type. But his aura wasn’t something he could hide. He tended to wear his emotions on his sleeve and face. Baekhyun looks over and although shit faced seems to finally come back from whatever hell planet he was on right now.

He gets up. Kris guy tugs him.

“I have to go back now.”

“Just clock out. I’ll tip you your other two hours pay.”

“You’re gonna tip me it anyway,” Baekhyun sasses then walks off, but as he does he grabs Chanyeol by the sleeve without saying a single thing. Chanyeol’s forced to follow suit. They pass Chen in the expo line.

“Watch my section,” Baekhyun orders like a boss. Chen scowls but doesn’t decline. Damn was everyone Baekhyun’s bitch around this place.

Chanyeol’s about to ask where they’re going but it could only be one place seeing as he’s being dragged past the host stand, past the waiting area and there’s only one area to go here – the bathroom.

He’s sure Baekhyun is gonna yell at him for something or the other. The lobby has cleared out at least, so the bathroom is empty when he’s all but manhandled into it.

“Take your apron off.” Baekhyun commands instantly.

“Why?” Chanyeol asks defiantly.

“You can’t wear your apron in the bathroom, dumbass!” Baekhyun says loudly as if this was a piece of information passed on from generation to generation at an early infant age. Chanyeol doesn’t like it.

“Well my bad. I didn’t even know I was going to the bathroom.” Chanyeol mutters, feeling like a rebel. His heart beats wildly for even talking back.

Baekhyun ignores him, grabbing at the string of Chanyeol’s apron, right atop his crotch and undoing it himself.

“Whoa – “

“I said take it off.”

The apron is thrown in the little gold tub where clean towels are supposed to go below the sink. Baekhyun does the same for himself then grabs Chanyeol again and shoves him inside the stall. It isn’t until he’s locking it that Chanyeol’s alarm bells go off. Dude what was this. Was he gonna kill him? Omg.

“Baekhyun – “ Chanyeol starts.

“You are so fucking distracting.” Baekhyun growls once again putting hands on Chanyeol – pressing him against the cold marble wall behind him as the music booms around them.

“What? I’m sorry?“ Chanyeol’s adrenaline rush is waning, he feels dizzy and disoriented.

“You should be,” Baekhyun stares seriously at him. His cheeks are even more flushed, lips a kissable dark red from the strawberry soju cocktail. “I can’t work properly with you.”

Chanyeol feels his stomach flip. “I’m sorry…” he says sadly, anger forgotten just like that and suddenly feeling like a failure.

“Stop apologizing, you idiot.” Fact; Baekhyun even rolls his eyes while drunk. Noted. He also still looks damn good. Blonde bangs fall into his eyes as he shakes his head in unexplained frustration. “I mean I can’t work with you. Properly with you because I’m distracted. You’re distracting me and I NEVER get distracted.”

“Why are you distracted.” Chanyeol gets the question in, having a weird feeling about the direction this conversation was going.

“Because of you,” Baekhyun spits and his tone sounds disgusted, but he’s looking into Chanyeol’s eyes like he wants him. “All I can think about is getting you alone.”

Chanyeol’s mind goes blank.

Then races.

“What?” He’s blushing. He can’t not be blushing. What did Baekhyun just say? His cheeks are positively burning and he feels like the drunk one with how his brain isn’t functioning right now. Had he heard him correctly? Is he going crazy? Was he fantasizing? Is this real life?

“You know what I mean.” Baekhyun says this with confidence. “You seem innocent but you can’t be that innocent.” Of course no, for he was mother Theresa on the hood of a Mercedes Benz we went over this remember.

“Umm,” Chanyeol is speechless, shook, and trying hard to make sense of the situation. “I think I know what you mean? B-but I’m not one hundred percent sure so I don’t want to assume anything.” Wow, talk about ruining the moment. Spoken like a true loser. Go chanyeol.

Baekhyun stares at him. He seems to be having a hard time understanding things at the moment too but at least he can blame it on the alcohol. “What? Are you telling me you don’t want me?”

“Um,” Whoa. Where that come from. He didn’t know how to say ‘yes I want joo’ without sounding like a complete fuckboy so instead opts for a, “Y-you’re very attractive.” Hurriedly with no swag, stammering as he does so, feeling a w k w a r d. No one says things like this out loud these days! Don’t fuck this up, his mind and libido screams at him. But at the same time… Baekhyun’s drunk isn’t he? Does he even know what he’s saying?

“I know,” Baekhyun nods with a slight daze eyed smirk. He’s cute af. “And you want me?”

“I do.” Chanyeol admits in a half whisper. He was scared to say it, to let Baekhyun know already but put on the spot like this he was more scared if Baekhyun thought the opposite. The truth shall set you free.

Baekhyun smiles looking extremely pleased with life. “Okay good.”

He presses against Chanyeol but unlike during their shift where Baekhyun would be close but not close enough no just a tease, this time – their bodies meet perfectly. Their height difference feels as though made for each other. Baekhyun rubs his lips into Chanyeol’s neck, placing wet kisses. Chanyeol can’t believe this is happening Chanyeol can’t even breathe.

“How do you want me?” Baekhyun asks tongue swirling around Chanyeol’s adam’s apple.

Chanyeol’s about to bust a nut forreal.

He’s hard already and its been two seconds since this physical shit even started. Baekhyun can probably feel it no Baekhyun can definitely feel it, there’s no way he can’t, plus he reaches down and squeezes, looking up to smile sweetly at Chanyeol. OH MY GOD –

“That was fast,” Baekhyun comments, stroking Chanyeol through his slacks.

“Ah – ! Ahhhh – fuck,” Chanyeol groans squeezing his eyes shut because this was all too stimulating and he didn’t trust himself not to come right then and there. WAS THIS REAL.

“That is the plan.” Baekhyun grins. “Do you have lube?”

“Wait.” Chanyeol snaps out of it. “Wait. Stop. We can’t … do this… here.”

“You don’t have lube?”

“No! I mean – “

“Then why not?”

There were a million reasons why not! Uh, they were on the clock? It was a filthy mens bathroom at their work for the love of god don’t tell him this did that not bother Baekhyun at all!

“You’re drunk.” Chanyeol says instead, trying not to think too much about how he missed Baekhyun’s lips against his neck already.

Baekhyun laughs. “I’m not that drunk.”

“You’re hella drunk,” Chanyeol says firmly and with great effort pushes Baekhyun off. He regrets it immediately when he sees the flash of hurt on Baekhyun’s face so he rushes to explain. “I don’t want to take advantage of you or anything.”

“Oh god.” Baekhyun rolls his eyes looking offended. His whole demeanor does a 360. He apparently isn’t used to getting ‘no’ for an answer. “Forget it! I should’ve known.”

“Known what?“

“That you are a pussy ass loser bitch noob. This never happened.”

“Baekhyun – what – “ He frowns, hurt. “I’m not a pussy bitch.”

“Pussy ass loser bitch noob,” Baekhyun corrects.

Chanyeol ignores it. “Listen, I do like you, I know we just met but I’ve never felt so strongly for someone before it’s weird and scary but all I know is I like you. You make me happy. I even liked running for you. Seeing you smile… “ Baekhyun’s staring at him with glassy eyes. He seems to have reached the drunk emotional stage of no return. Chanyeol gently puts a hand on his shoulder. “And of course I want you…” He decides to leave out the ‘nice ass’ part ( maybe some other time ) and continues with sincerity, “But this isn’t – you’re drunk. I don’t want it like this.” Chanyeol thinks he did a good job explaining himself but Baekhyun’s facial expression is devoid of anything but drunk anger and rejection.

“No, fuck it. You’re judging me like everyone in the fucking world does. And you’re lying just like everyone else too! So I’ll just go find someone else.” Baekhyun waves him off preparing to leave.

Chanyeol panics. “What the fuck – don’t do that!” Chanyeol shouts, a spike of jealousy and possessive ness and the image of Kris in his mind.

“Why the hell not? I can do whatever I want.”

“You should respect yourself. If you wanna do that, don’t just go to random people when youre drunk. You deserve more and youre better than that.”

Baekhyuns gaze is cold as death. “you don’t know me you don’t know anything. Fuck off. This was a mistake. You can go home. Like I said, I don’t need a runner.” Baekhyun turns his back and when chanyeol tries to grab him shoves chanyeol back with unrestrained anger and strength. Chanyeols back hits the wall. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

Baekhyun walks out after that leaving chanyeol alone in the bathroom. The music plays loudly. But chanyeol doesn’t hear anything but the harsh words replaying themselves in the his head.

He feels like hes been stabbed. Had he fucked up by saying no to baekhyuns advances? He think he did the right thing here. most guys would probably go for it, but this wasn’t okay. It was totally taking advantage if he did what Baekhyun wanted. Shit did Baekhyun even want him or was he the closest available hot blooded male? He didn’t wanna think if this was a normal thing Baekhyun did when hes had too much to drink or if Baekhyun had actually been feeling him.

He knows Baekhyun is more complex than what he lets people see. Most people act the way Baekhyun do if they’ve been hurt before and developed a guard around themselves to avoid being betrayed again. Trust issues and shit. chanyeol doesn’t know why hes so torn up about this because baehyun wasright he didn’t know him at all. But he just felt this strong connection to him. he really fucking like him… the few moments where he got to see Baekhyun smile and laugh made him happy and he didn’t know why. Shit feelings were really such a curse. This is why he stayed single like his whole damn life. Feelings just got in the way and made you depressed.

But Baekhyun…

He couldn’t stop these feelings even if he tried.

He has no idea what to do, he picks up his apron and wraps I around his waist. He looks at himself in the mirror. He looks flushed and sweaty and miserable. He splashes water on his face. It doesn’t help. He feels feverish and a little sick to his stomach the though of Baekhyun hating him.

He sees another apron and realizes Baekhyun forgot his. Hes picking it up when a piece of paper falls out.

To; chanyeol thanks for being an awesome runner. Drinks on me >.> I owe you, remember? 925 237 2372

~Baek

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