Now; baekyeol (3/5)

[aprilclash]

<< part 2

Six days before now

Baekhyun had changed in more than one way, where before there was quiet patience and resignation now there was loud, venomous rage and resignation.

He couldn't do anything about it, but sometimes the complaining really got to Chanyeol's nerves. Sometimes he was human and he hated the continued, depressing self-pity thing that Baekhyun did when he was too tired. He wanted to take him and scroll him, but in the end, the only thing he did was running away. The escape was, after all, one of his beast features.

He usually left, went drinking somewhere, came back almost drunk and ended up fighting even more ravenously with Baekhyun, the other boy spitting and clawing his way out of Chanyeol's inebriated advances like a rabid cat.

Still, a little fight was better than no fight at all, and Chanyeol thanked god every day that Baekhyun still had the will to be angry. He thanked, because even this furious little thing was better, more alive, truer and lovelier, more perfect in any way than the one he had knew years before. It had taken all of the disgraces of the world for Baekhyun's armour to crack, and for Chanyeol to finally know what Baekhyun had hidden all that time in his bowed head. Still, with fury and hysteria he could deal.

There were other times, when Baekhyun got home limping and defeated, the fight stripped out of him by force, and an abyss under his lowered lashes. Nothing scared Chanyeol more than his eyes in those moments.

Lu Han batted his eyelashes at the barman, enjoying the sheer red scowl that he received in response. Six months of teasing and he still hadn't succeeded in bedding the pretty thing. He must have been losing his touch. It was in such moments he regretted having started this whole charade. If only the pretty boy knew his true name... Those legs would've opened in less than thirty seconds, he was sure.

Still, risking his safety over a nice pair of thighs wasn’t a brilliant idea. Or was it? That ass, though. Maybe his fixation with said ass was born just because Minseok kept turning his back on him in disdain, a spurn the only response to all of his damn attempts to woo him.

He fumbled with his memory for some stupid pick-up line, Minseok hated his pick-up lines, the lamest the better, and his neck flushed this delicious shade of red that-

Jongin’s voice snapped him out of the fantasy. The boy looked very relieved to have finally snatched his attention. “You’re needed upstairs. It’s... it seemed very urgent.” His voice wavered and died, and Lu Han could see that the poor kid was really worried for him, poor Xiao Han, summoned in the rooms of the power, to be punished maybe? Is he thinking he’ll find my body in a dirty alley tomorrow morning?

He was more worried for the safety of whoever had this damn haste to talk with him, and he hoped it was really important as they said, because he was having a lot of fun with Minseokkie, and an amused Lu Han was obviously less likely to order your death than an angered one.

Sighing, he turned his shoulder to Minseok's fine rear, not with a pang of regret, and with a reassuring smile and a pat on Jongin’s shoulder he ran to the elevator, managing to sneak his way inside at the very last second. Suho, or Joonmyeon, as Lu Han was aware his real name was, glanced at him, and as soon as the door were conveniently hiding them from prying eyes, bowed his head respectfully. The elevator started his slow ascension.

It must have been a really strange thing to see from a stranger’s perspective, the crisp, staid men in a ironed suit, paying his respect to the guy in heels and tore up net stockings. Lu Han caught their reflection and giggled, the sound making Joonmyeon relax slightly. For a man who smiled so much the accountant was always very tense around Lu Han.

“I am sorry to bother you Mr. Lu, but I have received an interesting phone call this morning. I really think you should be informed of the content.”

Lu Han listened closely, the gears spinning inside his head. “Make sure to inform Byun as soon as possible, and keep me updated on this matter. You may go.”

Suho bowed again, but Lu Han was already rushing to push the button, stopping the elevator from going further up. The doors opened and Lu Han winked seductively at Suho, before stepping out in front of a bored security guard who looked at them with a surprised face. Joonmyeon hastily closed the elevator’s doors, but his employer still managed to send him a flying kiss, just as the elevator started to go up.

Sighing, and already imagining the rumours that Lu Han had willingly unleashed with that teasing gesture, Joonmyeon activated his phone, scrolling the employees' names and stopping idly on Byun Baekhyun's contact.

The news hit Baekhyun like a bucket of ice-cold water on his naked back. He could hear the shower running in the other room, and he was lucky Mr. Choi wasn't in the same room with him because he was sure he was having a seizure.

He tried to calm himself down, but even hearing his own voice inside his head was difficult, as the rumble of the blood in his vein was so loud to occlude everything else. He realized that he wasn't breathing when even his sight started to blur, and in a desperate moment of lucidity he clamped long and elegant nails on his wrist, strong enough to draw blood. The sting managed to wake him up from his dazed state and he choked on the first breath, the air cold and welcomed by his numb brain.

He spent the next minutes on the bed, trying to talk himself out of another panic attack. He was limpidly aware of his quick heartbeat, and his chest was starting to hurt from anxiety.

He wanted Mr Choi's shower to last forever, to give him the time to collect himself, but he was still badly shaken when the door opened and the man reached him on the bed, throwing the towel to one side and falling messily on Baekhyun's prone form. He nuzzled Baekhyun's jaw, frowning when he didn't receive any response. Baekhyun felt cold fingers on his face, kindly but firmly forcing him to turn his head.

“Hey.”

Baekhyun forced himself to answer in return. The man didn't comment on his trembling lip, so he guessed he must have looked pretty convincing.

He let himself be kissed, slow and languid. Choi Minho was a good kisser, one of his favourite patrons, young and sometimes even very kind. He didn't even have any particular kink or strange perversion, and as far as Baekhyun was involved that was definitely a plus. However, this time his touch was giving Baekhyun the chills. He nervously detached himself from Minho's lips, without missing the slightly irritated look the other man had thrown him as he did so.

“I talked with-” he moaned, as pointed teeth sank in his neck.

“You know I really like you sweetie, but don't you think it's a little,” Baekhyun moaned again, this time more in distress than in pleasure, his tired body reacting too strongly at the faintest touch, “unfair on your part to be talking while I'm trying to fuck you? You're still on duty, and I happen to pay a lot for your pretty ass.”

He felt his face flaring up in shame, but he continued to talk, he had to ask.

“They told me you want to buy my debt.”

Which was, after all, a nicer way to say you want to buy me. That seemed to attract Choi's attention, and slightly reduce his impatience.

“Oh, so they already told you. Aren't you happy?”

Why did his voice suddenly sound so mocking? Baekhyun hid his eyes under his lowered lashes. “Yes, I, I guess...”

“They'll let me know within the week, but it's just a mere formality. I have collaborated with the new boss for years now, I don't think he'll deny me this little favour.”

Baekhyun knew he should've stopped right there, but he couldn't help blurting out, “What if I refuse?”

Choi's eyes darkened, and Baekhyun flinched away, waiting for the sure blow.

Choi Minho didn't hit him, he just grabbed the edge of the sheet and pulled it away slowly, making Baekhyun shiver even in the warmth of the elegant suite. When he grabbed his shoulder, urging him to roll on his belly, Baekhyun meekly complied. He yielded like butter under the strong hands that spread him open, feeling more vulnerable and bare that he had ever been.

He had never feared his clients before.

They could hurt him, they paid to hurt him, and they did it, with great pleasure to be accurate. And he spited them, threw them poison in form of word, his eyes so teasing and full of scorn that sometimes they had to tear them apart from him, a gigantic bouncer personally escorting them outside. They didn’t always arrive in time, and Baekhyun had had is fair dose of beating in the past for the sting that his acid tongue was able to cause. But in the end he was still a whore at the club, and a working whore earns more money than an injured one. He had always been, how ironic, somewhat protected by his status.

But this, he thought, as he stood in the most vulnerable positions, with his hips raised in the air after his limbs had been arranged like he was a doll, this was terrifying. This man was no occasional frustrated client, this man dealt with the boss himself, la crème de la crème, like Xiao Han had said.

This man could have decided to snap him in half, he thought shivering as the strong hands that kept him in place opened his legs a bit more, and no one would have done nothing to stop him. He was so powerful, and Baekhyun was so scared.

He wanted to go home, he wanted Chanyeol to hold him and swear he would always protect him. He thought he was going to cry.

“Cat got your tongue, Baekhyun? Let me hear you.” The voice in his hair was cold and amused, but it gave him the force to resist and react. He closed his eyes, willed the tears to go away. If Choi Minho noticed that his cries were more like whimpers than moans he didn’t tell. But he patted his head in reward, like Baekhyun was his little pet, condescending, possessive, fingers tangling in Baekhyun’s hair and pulling.

The funniest thing, thought bitterly Baekhyun, was that for how much he was panicking, Minho’s voice didn’t even sound angry to begin what, just sickly satisfied, as he whispered against his neck.

“Sweetie, it’s not like you can refuse anymore.”

Chanyeol wasn't answering his phone.

Baekhyun tried again, with shaking fingers, and cursed as he dropped the phone on the soft carpet in his haste to type faster.

It was probably useless. Chanyeol usually answered before the first ring had even faded, and if he wasn't picking up his phone it could only mean that he had a gig. He had managed to suppress part of his hate for Chanyeol’s so-called part time work, reducing the throb of his heart to a mere little pang of poison in his stomach, deep inside, but whatever had happened with Choi made the pain come back in full force.

Who knew what could happen if Chanyeol kept killing people, murdering a little part of his humanity every time he shot towards one of his targets. Would he become like Choi Minho, oppressive and manic, so angry for power and control that he would have gone to every extent to obtain whatever he wanted? Would he become like Kris, hollow and bitter, the shadow of something beautiful had burnt so strongly inside him that not even the ashes could still be found in his soul? The few times he had lied with him, Baekhyun had been under the impression that the older boy had given up trying be happy a long time ago.

Chanyeol had told him that he could call Kris whenever he wanted, because it was a good dude in his opinion. Not that Chanyeol’s opinion was always this trustworthy, especially since he had started to go around messing with people’s lives as well.

The Phoenix, they were starting to call him, and the Dragon.

He would have liked to call Kris, because he felt weak and sluggish, unable to walk even the few meters that divided him from his apartment. In the end he didn’t. No matter how Chanyeol was convinced, he couldn’t trust the guy so he guessed he had no choice.

He picked himself and the phone from the floor, and began to prepare himself for the dive in the cold December night.

It should have been simpler.

In hindsight, everything was simple. However, in the real, mean world, things had gone a little complicated, the lines Baekhyun had put so much effort in trying to create and respect were all blurred and he couldn’t simply put all the blame on Chanyeol, not this time.

Chanyeol had managed to sneak his way effortlessly in his little flat, filling the empty, dusty corners with killer precision and lots of laughs. Baekhyun asked himself when exactly he had let himself be this accustomed to Chanyeol presence again, when had he stopped thinking of their arrangements like nothing more than a temporary thing.

He didn’t even realize. One day he woke up and Chanyeol was everywhere, his mess spread like a disease on Baekhyun's lonely life, with no hope for a cure. And now everything had to go. The entire apartment had to go.
He wondered if he would be allowed to fill one carton with all his memories and burn it himself, in the most epic and depressing stag party of this side of the ocean.

Probably not. He was more likely to transfer in one if Choi's hotel rooms like the good mistress he was going to become, bringing with him all of his naked skin because his new owner wouldn’t have minded spending money to remind him that everything in Baekhyun’s life, from now on sweetie, Baekhyun included, was his to own.

Wasn't this what he wanted? Yes, no, maybe, in the beginning, but as time passed by and Chanyeol kept showering him with affection, he had grown greedy.

Some nights he didn't come home feeling spoiled and broken, but tingly with longing for Chanyeol's presence draped on his home like a comfort blanket, smelling like smoke and burnt curry.

He had told Chanyeol a thousand times, “Don't you dare smoke in my home and for god's sake, don't cook if you're so crap at it.”

Now he wanted only the chance to complain more, to nag about dirt on his carpet and crumbs on the sofa, and then to pretend he was going to open the window to change the air when he wasn’t really going to do it because it was so fucking cold outside. Seeing Chanyeol’s comical expression of relief when he realized his lover wasn’t going to freeze them to death just to punish him for breaking house rules, again, was worth it.

He was going to miss Chanyeol’s burnt curry. He rasped it from the pot and carefully plucked until all the black part was gone, and then he reached Chanyeol on the carpet and they ate and watched X Factor.

He didn't know when, somewhere in between, he had stopped thinking about their agreement as something temporary, like he was so adamant on keeping it in the beginning. And lately, in the darkness of his bedroom, when Chanyeol wasn't around, Baekhyun had started to think about the other boy in words he couldn't say out loud. Words like boyfriend, love and family, words that melted on his tongue like syrupy candies, sinfully sweet in the impassive silence of the night, but never failing to leave a sour taste in his mouth the morning after.

He couldn't bring himself to bathe in the possibility of forever yet, but the expiring date of his little taste of happiness had grown progressively farther. When in the start he had lived every moment like it was the last, lately he had fallen in his own trap, and now he guessed there was no way he was getting out of this on his own legs.

And he couldn't refuse. There was no way they would have let him refuse. Not Choi, who was the kind of spoiled person who doesn't accept defeat, ever. Not Lu, not after… That. They hadn't even ever met, but the other boy had had plenty of other ways to make Baekhyun aware that, debt or not debt, he hadn't forgotten. Or forgiven.

So, I guess this is game over, debt or not, he thought bitterly. Almost over. He still had the final boss to face, and he had no idea of how he would have been able to tell Chanyeol, this time.

Six hours before now

Chanyeol’s apartment was cold and elegant, all hard lines and essentialist furniture squeezed out from an interior design journal by an overpaid architect. The company gave him the loft, sometime between the second and the third month he had started working for them. Suho had simply consigned him the key with one of his usual sunny and, Chanyeol had finally learnt, empty smiles, along with the copious amount of money that usually accompanied every well-delivered bullet he shot.

He didn’t really like the place, too black and white and not enough colours for his likes.
Chanyeol had always loved colour, and crowded rooms where he could leave his clothes around and create even more disarray. He loved when Baekhyun tripped on the nightstand of his little bedroom and ended up swearing loudly and hopping back to Chanyeol with a sore foot. He loved it because he got to see Baekhyun acting cute and childish and needy for physical affection, and he wasn’t often that Baekhyun craved for Chanyeol’s touch (even if lately he had noticed a little more clinginess, and that had made him unbelievably happy).

In his apartment, tripping over something was very difficult, everything was so open and bare that he made him feel even lonelier. To tell the truth, he almost never stayed there, preferring to spend the night at Baekhyun’s, but today they had a date.

They almost never went out, Chanyeol had had enough of nightlife in his university days, and Baekhyun preferred the bed and homemade dinner to fancy restaurants. This time, though, Chanyeol wanted to go overboard.

They had never talked about it, letting the notion linger around them for a while, too afraid that revealing it would have broken the charm. Six months.

Six months, and Chanyeol couldn’t believe his luck, for Baekhyun had seemed really keen on pushing him away, but here they were, and with all the money he had saved maybe he could even caress the thought of buying Baekhyun a ring. Nothing too show-off, just a simple ring.

He checked the agenda again, smiling at the bright red heart Baekhyun must have drew around their date reminder, probably while Chanyeol was asleep.

Baekhyun was already a little late, but he didn’t mind it, he had already warned the restaurant of a possible thirty minutes delay. Years of previous friendship had made him used to the constant unreliability of his friend on time matters. He always had something at the last minute, but he had assured Chanyeol that tonight would be free, so he patiently waited for him in his dark living room.

He rushed to the door at the first sound of the bell, opening it in a mere moment, and he squished Baekhyun in a hug. The boy merely reciprocated. When he looked at him, he could see his face was pale and his eyes were casted down. Baekhyun was looking guilty.

His mind struggled to find something to say, because that unsure expression didn’t promise anything good.

His mind could come up only with a lame “You’re late,” and after having taken a little hand in his own, “and cold. Come inside.”

Baekhyun nodded, and let himself be dragged into the living room.

“I only have to put my coat on, we’re already a little late for dinner.”

Baekhyun’s voice stopped him, and the way it cracked made Chanyeol’s hearts falter.

“Wait, Chanyeol, can…” He bit his lip. “Can we talk?”

Ah, the famous words. A life of paper castles ready to burn. It’s not like Chanyeol wasn’t expecting it, one day, but he trusted himself to be stronger than any excuse Baekhyun could come up with for breaking up with him. Baekhyun had always been the straightforward one between them, and Chanyeol was the runner, but maybe this time it was his turn to stay and try to convince Baekhyun not to give up. Not to give them up.

He knew form the start, from the numb look in Baekhyun’s eyes, that it wouldn’t have been a pleasant conversation. He just didn’t expected things to get this desperate from the beginning.

The more Baekhyun talked, the more he felt like the floor was swallowing him up, whole. Choi Minho, sure he knew Choi Minho. Kris had told him to stay away from the man, to stay away from anyone in their twisted group. They were no normal dealers, no guns or drugs or pretty slaves, they dealt with chemical weapons, hazardous and more than dangerous things. That put them in one of the most delicate and precarious positions as Lu’s affiliates.

“It is very important,” had said Kris with his most serious tone on, “that you don’t cross your path with them. They’re crazy, all of them. And they’re between our best allies. No mistakes with that group, Chanyeol, do you understand?”

He hadn’t even met Choi Minho, just a quick look at Lee Taemin one night at the brothel, his long fingers curled possessively and tight on Jongin’s neck as they disappeared in the darkness of an expensive car, and the occasional handshake with Lee Jinki that time Kris had assigned him a job on their behalf.

Lee Jinki smiled too much. He wouldn’t have been surprised to know he and Suho were somewhat related, but Onew, like Jinki liked to be called in the circle, unlike Suho had a palpable aura of danger around him, as if the patina of the threat he could exert stayed glued to his body, slightly shimmering beneath the warm smile he had used to greet Chanyeol.

Chanyeol hadn’t even met Choi, and he already hated him. All of the strangers that had ever fucked Baekhyun were now enclosed and trapped in that name, Choi Minho, all the hatred that Chanyeol had ever felt towards them now focused solely onto him. And he couldn’t do anything.

Baekhyun talked and talked, and talked, his words thin but clear in the cold air, no other sounds but his voice as Chanyeol struggled silently to breath.

He looked at the boy in front of him, the red hoodie and worn blue jeans, no make-up to taint his face tonight, because it should've been their night. Only theirs. He looked at the perfect picture of a normal boy on a Saturday evening, and he asked himself why this boy.

In an arrogant fit he had always thought he was the only one able to see the sunshine in Baekhyun’s hair, the multiple universes that blossomed and withered in his eyes with every flutter of long lashes, the way he seemed to catch every ray of light, making it brighter and cleaner. He had wished to steal Baekhyun away, to hide him away where no one else could see how beautiful he was, and now he felt mocked. In the end the one who got to keep Baekhyun, all of Baekhyun, to himself, was someone else, and Chanyeol could only unwillingly enter the ranks of those who were destined to never see him again.

When Baekhyun stopped talking, he felt hollow and cold, the words slowly sinking into his conscience like ice.

The blast on his ears had faded, the deafening uproar that had agitated his thoughts while Baekhyun talked, reduced to a buzzing, static noise.

He had to say something, he had to answer. Baekhyun deserved at least that, so small and lost in front of him. He didn’t really know what to say.

“This is… Is this?” He could feel his voice tremble with every word, shaking from the strain to speak every syllable with a throat as dry as cotton paper, “Baekhyun…”

“This is goodbye, Yeol.”

No, no no no. It can’t end just like this.

He took a deep breath. He had to be calm, and rational. He had to be strong, he had to…

It can’t end just like this.

“They can’t do it, Baek, I won’t let them do it.” He surged forward, clinging onto Baekhyun’s hoodie, preventing him to back off in surprise at hearing his shout. Baekhyun just slapped his hands away in retaliation.

“And how do you think to stop them? Ah? Tell me!”

He looked at his lover, always so feisty and violent, always ready to fight back no matter how much stronger and bigger the opponent was.

“I don’t know, I’ll just do something, I’ll…” he felt his voice raising, and he instantly regretted it because if he was shouting that meant Baekhyun would only shout louder.

“They already have me, Yeol,” and the slight hysteric nuance in his voice was heart-breaking, “get deeper in this mess and they’ll have you too and then-”

“And what should I do then?”

He couldn’t help but getting angry. He hated it, he hated the turn the conversation was going to take. The few times they had argued it was just like this. Merely raising his voice and shaking, Baekhyun loathed to come out of his cocoon of self-pity and shame, refused to think a solution with Chanyeol, together, struggled to accept Chanyeol’s presence around him like something permanent and fixed.

Chanyeol felt irritation bubbling in his chest, the usual, familiar urge to run away from the apartment in a rage fit, slamming the door on his exit. Only this time he couldn’t. This time if he ran away there was the possibility that he couldn’t find Baekhyun in his home anymore, for when he had his head cleared and his feelings sorted. This time he had to stay.

“Just leave me be, Yeol!”, the shouting was getting worse, Chanyeol was just lucky he had a soundproof attic to contain all of Baekhyun’s voice and anger, “get out of my life, get out of this mess, stop trying to be the hero or something, stop killing people for no reason, stop-”

Despite the good intentions, he couldn’t help it. He saw red.

“No reason?” It was difficult to keep the hurt, that sharp sour taste out of his words, not when all he was doing, all he ever did was for Baekhyun’s sake. “No reason, Baek?”

He shook his head, the poison he fought so hard to keep in control, for he never wanted to harm Baekhyun or to bring him sorrow, leaked freely from his every word.

“Tell me, do you enjoy being a whore that much that you don’t want to be saved anymore? Are you that used to slut yourself like a bitch in heat every night? Ah? AH?” He didn’t care that he was tossing Baekhyun around, probably hurting him as his fingers were locked in a tight vice-like grip over the older boy’s arms.

Baekhyun’s eyes were starting to water, but Chanyeol knew the little tricks he wore under his sleeve all too well. He knew he had been trained by his most violent clients, the ones who would shake him, who tried to hurt him, and he had learnt how to sneak himself away from those kind of situation in the most easy way possible, by crying and look defenceless.

He didn’t fall for it, his grip grew tighter.

“Well, if that’s the case,” he said, seeing that Baekhyun wasn’t going to answer to his little windup, he was just going to stubbornly stay there and being the poor abused victim, “if that’s the case remember, dear, that as long as I can pay your boss with my work…”

He backed Baekhyun onto the coffee table, snatching a stash of money from above it.

“…with the money that I earn with my job,” and he flashed the cash on Baekhyun’s face, tracing the soft lines of it, lowering it so slowly it bordered on the obscene until he could tuck everything inside of his tight jeans, Baekhyun’s eyes going wide at the gesture, the tears prickling at the corners starting to look more real now “as long as I pay you’re my whore too, so be a good whore and bend a little more baby. Let’s make this a memorable last night.”

Baekhyun slapped him, hard.

The force of Baekhyun’s palm awoke a wave of warmth on his cheek, but what made him stop and stare were the streaks of wet on his face, the way his lip was trembling. His hold on Baekhyun’s waist lost strength, and Baekhyun took advantage of the little opening he saw and hit him harder, right in the chest, making him waver.

Before he could even understand what was happening, the cash he had tucked inside Baekhyun’s worn out jeans were flying in his face, and everywhere in the room.

The last bills hadn’t touched the ground yet when the sound of angry footsteps and the slamming of the heavy door faded, leaving Chanyeol more lost, angry and confused that he had ever been in his life.

Baekhyun ran, wishing that the cold night air could clear his heart like it was clearing his head. Being far from the immaculate, empty perfection of Chanyeol’s apartment made it easier to think.

He was furious. He passed the red light without not so much looking at it and jumped, literally, over the hood of a car, barely hearing the driver sputtered obscenities and the loud horn. He was furious at Chanyeol for treating him like a whore, but he was even more furious at Chanyeol’s refuse of stepping out. The situation was dire enough without Baekhyun having to worry also of what that gawky duck could do.

He knew Chanyeol too well. He was going to drown his rage in alcohol, and then wake up the day after with some stupid, messed-up plan in his head, without a single care if his stupidity was going to get him killed. And he was armed.

Sometimes Baekhyun forgot, the thought pushed back in the deepest corners, so far that he was impossible for him to stumble over it without having been really looking for it, that Chanyeol was a stupid, inconsistent, disorganized, lethal war machine. Xiao Han had been even too prodigal on details when talking of how much Chanyeol’s abilities, the Phoenix abilities, were becoming famous in the underground. Where Hannie founded this kind of information, Baekhyun didn’t want to know.

He had seen him talking with Kris, sometimes, and from their faces he could only deduct they weren’t fucking, but there was a familiarity in the way they just stood in their own personal spaces that had made him wonder. He had been with Kris, more than once, and closer than two men that didn’t feel an ounce of feelings towards one another should have been. He had been with Kris and Kris had been in him, but outside the bed, with the sheets still warm and rumpled from the sex, Kris had been as distant as a man walking on the moon would have been.

Baekhyun had paid close attention, and he had always seen him as a lonely figure, vaguely awkward in the presence of others no matter how people tried to get close to him. Scantily dressed boys and girls he barely knew from the twin hall of their clubhouse, from where the Jung sisters and Song Qian sometimes came to visit and flirt with the boys, he had also seen him with Jongdae, but he had never dared to ask the other boy what his impression of Kris was. After all, everyone knew he was one of the few that knew of the emperor’s real identity, and going around asking too much questions about him was only less dangerous than being the person who answered those questions.

The only occasions in which he had seen his protective bubble slightly falter were when he was with Chanyeol, who had the awful habit of putting his limbs over other people’s bodies, a hand on the arm, the chin tucked on Kris’ shoulder, tapping him with his knees when he wanted to attract his attention. Baekhyun remembered seeing Kris’ composure sway, for a moment, his defences dangerously falling and, seriously? even the shadow of a smile threatening to appear when he realized he was only Chanyeol, like the other boy was just a kid that should only be humoured in times like this.

But more than Kris being comfortable with another human being, what aroused his attention and confused him was Han’s behaviour.

There was something strange about Xiao Han, Baekhyun had always thought, something skittish and flickering, difficult to grasp but always there, at the corner of Baekhyun’s eyes. Hannie hadn’t been there a lot longer than Baekhyun, but when he had entered the brothel, livid and restive, Xiao Han was already one of the kings of the place. Baekhyun guessed he should have been happy that the older, more experienced and most of all more respected prostitute had taken him under his protective wing. But being so close to Han had made him aware of a few things.

Xiao Han, or Hangel, like some of his most poetic patrons had taken to call him, and he had laughed over the nickname for months, even rolling on the floor breathless the day he had recounted the story to them, how can they be so cheesy, phew. He was this bubbly, fairy boy, his face almost too pretty for his gender, a killer set of shiny eyes and that sort of grace that made people turn their head when he made a show of walk around the club. There was almost no one who could resist his charms, his deer-in-headlights faces, or the subtle way the collar of his slightly too big shirt slipped on his shoulder when he laughed, revealing pale collarbones in his fall.

But when the show ended, when the last client left him at the club where Baekhyun was waiting for him to come home together, Hannie became a totally different person. Baekhyun had come to know the loud, carefree kid who dragged him to eat kibimpap at four in the mornings just because he felt like it, joked over his strangest clients and was able to take off with a scary easiness every thug who even dared to breath in their directions, two pretty whores out at the first lights of the dawn in the most dangerous neighbourhood of the city, in the shadow of Lu & Co.’s skyscraper, like a too easy temptation.

And then, sometimes, there was another person, someone Baekhyun didn’t know. Someone who scared Baekhyun more than a little because he recognized in this boy’s eyes the same light that he was sure was inside his own. Sometimes Xiao Han looked at people and he had that expression on his face, like he knew exactly what they were thinking, what they were going to do.

It frightened Baekhyun because even though he did the same with his own patrons, this side of Han, the manipulative streak he had sometimes showed towards his clients when he didn’t know Baekhyun was watching, was alien and obscure to him.

The people he talked to, too, were the most dangerous people. Kris, firstly. And Suho, the man who was responsible of the most important financial movements of the company. And his clients, oh, they were the most fascinating. Jung Yunho, Lee Jinki, Choi Siwon, every essential piece of Lu’s empire lied like putty in Xiao Han’s hands, every secret a breath away from the perfect lover’s ear.

The more he had thought about it, the more Baekhyun had found little pieces of the puzzle, inconsistencies, fragments of truth that were falling apart from the roof of lies Xiao Han had managed to build.

Baekhyun wanted to be greedy, for once. He wanted Chanyeol, and he wanted him out of this mess.

And he knew, deep inside, that the only way he had to avoid Chanyeol being killed by Choi Minho’s men, or Lu’s men, depending on who was going to be Chanyeol’s target when the other boy would’ve decided to act in his stupid plan to save Baekhyun, was to get out of this mess himself. Chanyeol wouldn’t have stopped until he knew that Baekhyun was safe.

The only person who could save Baekhyun was Lu himself, and the only person who seemed to be able to lead him right to the heart of the empire, was his friend Xiao Han.

Baekhyun stopped running, the massive shape of Lu’s skyscraper seemed even more intimidating now that the sun was fading and the lights of the city were starting to glow in the winter early darkness. He was short of breath, and under the menacing stare of the dark building, he felt even tinier than usual. Hannie was waiting for him at the main entrance.

Lu Han smiled.

Baekhyun was still looking at him with this strange mix of dread and determination, but the more they delved into the darkness of the building the more his friend looked nervous. He had chosen to make him enter from the backdoor, and he was now leading him towards the third elevator, the one specifically reserved for those who wished to go right to the last floor. No stops, no pauses, a long, slow ride until the peak.

“So,” he started when the elevator’s engine started, and Baekhyun mustn’t have noticed him coming so close, for he startled at the sound of his voice in his ear, “why did you wait so much to come?”

“I know he’s angry,” he looked at his feet, awkward, “with me.”

When he raised his eyes to point them on Lu Han’s ones they were almost too deep.

“And he has his reasons. But I have mine, too.”

Lu Han just nodded.

Yes, he had his reasons to be angry to Baekhyun. And not only in terms of all of the money he had lost. In the end, he had grown fairly attached to the boy, but the events that had led Byun Baekhyun to stumble on Lu Han’s path stung like open wounds, even after all that time.

“You probably know it, right? He must’ve told you.”

Lu Han nodded again, but this time he made himself even closer to Baekhyun, making the spacious elevator feel emptier. Unlike the principal elevators, there were no lights in this one, and only the first city lights and the fading remains of the dusk made him able to see Baekhyun’s face.

“I knew Kyungsoo,” he said, casually, and Baekhyun paled.

As a friend, he had never tried to confront Baekhyun on the reason he had ended up working as a whore. It wasn’t that he didn’t know the whole story, because, painful irony, he did. It was more a matter of trying to conquer Baekhyun’s trust, and to avoid chasing him away with too insistent and personal questions.

He had never asked, so he had never seen Baekhyun’s face bearing the colours of shame, sadness and regret, twisted in the pain at the memories that have haunted him too, and it made him hungry for more, for twisting the knife of guilt in Baekhyun’s heart until he had him whimpering.

Kyungsoo. Time sure had passed. And now he had Baekhyun, not the only responsible, sure, but still the major one, at his mercy. Would you have cried, Soo, knowing what I’m going to do to him?

“What do you want to do, Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun closed his eyes, and breathed, unconsciously putting some distance between his and Lu Han’s bodies, trying to find some balance. “I want to save Chanyeol, I’d do anything to save Chanyeol because I know Chanyeol is going to do something stupid that will make him very angry.”

Lu Han couldn’t help but ask, “And what make you think he’ll want something from you? If he thought you could be of some use to him he wouldn’t have put you in someone’s bed, right?”

They were barely past the middle of the building, and the elevator seemed to go even more slower than usual.

“What can you offer him, Baekhyun, seeing as your only abilities lay in your hips and in the way you seems to tie your clients over your fingers?”

Baekhyun’s response was colder than ice. “Wasn’t that your job, hyung? You taught me well, that’s it.”

“What makes you think that the most powerful man of Seoul would want to waste his time talking with you, you who made him waste already too much time in the past?” He went on, impassive to Baekhyun’s gradually more pained expression, “what makes you think that he’d sacrifice a powerful and strong alliance in order to make you, you, happy? Do you even have the right to ask?”

He had backed Baekhyun up, right into the glass panel that looked onto the city night. In the backlight, he couldn’t distinguish Baekhyun’s features, but the hand that kept his shoulders pinned to the glass felt the tremors. Was Baekhyun angered, or hopelessly desperate?

He leaned over Baekhyun’s chest, felt his heart beating frantically.

Baekhyun was warm and soft, he had the same warmth as the boy he had hugged on too many nights to make him stop crying, tangling their legs under the covers and nuzzling his nape with his too cold nose, feeling him shiver. He remembered the day he had died Baekhyun’s hair a bright, violent red, and the day they had saved a puppy from the streets and wandered in the night until morning, when they had found a little girl in Gangnam who was willing to adopt the dog. He remembered their fights around the club, and the way Baekhyun shouted at him, face red, as Xiao Han ran away with the other boy’s stockings.

But that was Xiao Hannie’s life, not Lu Han’s. Lu Han closed the distance between his mouth and Baekhyun’s ear to whisper sinfully, “Should I put a good word for you?”

Baekhyun spluttered in his hold, not knowing what to answer.

He was saved by the elevator bell and the kind female voice announcing their arrival to the top floor of the building. It was even higher than where Chanyeol had been, Suho’s office being two floors under them. The giant, outdoor pool faintly glowed in front of their eyes, the entire city expanding and breathing around their eyes. They both had left their coats in the dressing rooms, and when the doors closed behind them with a ting!, they found themselves shivering.

Lu Han guided Baekhyun towards the little house beyond the pool, and made him seat on the candid bed inside.

The other boy looked around himself, taking in the luxurious little apartment and apparent lack of other living people, apart from them. His eyes fell on his lap.

Silence engulfed them, stretching way beyond the point of comfortableness, but neither of the boys wanted to break it. Baekhyun seemed to be collecting his courage, Lu Han was waiting.

Finally, Baekhyun talked, without raising his eyes.

“I thought, all of this time,” his voice faded but he cleared his throat and continued, “I thought you were Lu’s lover, his favourite one. His spy among all of us.”

Lu Han nodded, clever little boy, his Baekhyunnie.

“But it’s not the truth, right?”

Their eyes connected, and he truly, deeply, felt admiration for Baekhyun, because his voice didn’t falter this time, and he was looking him in the eyes as he said it.

“It’s you, right? You are Lu.”

Lu Han just smiled, and nodded.

“I am Lu Han, nice to meet you.”

Baekhyun played with the names in his head, Xiao Han, Hannie, Lu Han. It suited him. He didn’t dare open his mouth but he bet the sound would have rolled out of his mouth just as easily as it ran in his mind.

He found it strange, though, despite knowing the truth, despite Xiao Han having changed into Lu Han in his thoughts, that the person in front of his eyes seemed exactly the same as before, same luminous eyes, same knowingly smile, same teasing mouth.

He found it strange and he found it scary, and he didn’t really know what to think. The boy who had helped him survive in the most difficult times of his life, who had dried his tears and brought him the only physical contact he hadn’t loathed in months, was the same cold hearted killer who had thrown him in that despicable situation.

He knew he should have been more worried for his life, since Lu, Lu Han, reminded him his traitorous mind, had reasons to want the worst for him, but all he could feel was pain.

Did he have fun in deceiving me, in pretending to be my friend? Did he get so close to me just to be able to see me suffer from the VIP seat? Everything, was everything a lie?

More than anything, now that he knew Lu Han’s secret, was he to be disposed of and disappear in the darkness, like a tossed doll that doesn’t entertain his master anymore?

Lu Han’s voice startled him, velvety and soft in the silence of the pool house, “I thought you had something to tell me.”

“Do I?” and he tried to keep the hurt out of his voice, but it showed anyway. “You already know everything.”

“Yes, I do.”

Baekhyun waited for Lu Han to talk again, but it seemed the other boy didn’t have any intention to do so. He seemed to be waiting for Baekhyun to say something else. But he didn’t know what else to say, he barely understood what was happening.

“Why?”

The question seemed to surprise Lu Han.

“Why what?”

“Why did you do all of this? Why did you become my friend?”

Baekhyun hoped that his vision blurring wasn’t due to angry tears, hoped that his voice was stronger and firmer than it seemed to him. He didn’t want to be weak, not in front of the person that had seen his inner weaknesses, and had maybe laughed about it. No more.

“Why organize this farce, did you really have to spend all of this time on me only to make me suffer a little more?”

Now he was shouting, full force, and he could feel the tears drawing searing paths on his face but he didn’t care. Lu Han had been the only family he had ever hoped in to, after Kyungsoo. Now Kyungsoo was dead, and…

“Wasn’t my life ruined enough for you? After you took Kyungsoo away, I-”

“Don’t you dare say his name, it was all your fault!”

Yes, it was Baekhyun’s fault, but… But…

“You killed him, Hannie.”

For the first time, since Baekhyun had first met him, Lu Han’s composure cracked. The words hit him like a physical blow, and he closed his eyes. Was he… ashamed? Just how it came the swift moment of weakness disappeared, and when Lu Han talked there were no uncertainties. “Thinking of the past is useless, now. What it’s done is done. Ask what you came here to ask, Byun Baekhyun, or get out of my sight.”

This was it, this was the moment. He had come to beg, and beg he would, with all of his might.
Baekhyun feel to his knees.

“Please, help me. I don’t want to go with Choi, please,” he lowered his head more, and hoped, “you’re the only one who can refuse him now.”

“Why should I? After all the effort I put into making him fall in love with you.”

“What?”

“It wasn’t that difficult, you know Minho after all. It took so little, I only had to tell him to be careful not to take a liking too deep into you, ‘cause you were already taken.”

He helped a dumbfounded Baekhyun, making him sit on the bed again. He petted his head.

“He’s so childish, you just have to tell him no and he’ll want it more than anything. Is everything all right, Baekhyun? You’re trembling.”

Baekhyun didn’t react as Lu Han took his hands in his own.

“Why are you doing this, Han? I don’t understand, what do you want from me?”

Lu Han let the hands he was holding drop, to put his own on Baekhyun’s face, slowly rubbing the dried wakes of tears away from his face with a tenderness that Baekhyun knew too well, the same warmth he had grown to love in his friend Xiao Han.

He wanted to cry again, how cruel can you get, Hannie?

“You know,” said Lu Han in a whisper, “I’ll never forgive you for taking Kyungsoo away from me,” his breath slid on Baekhyun’s face, and then Lu Han’s lips stopped on his cheeks, words muffled by the soft skin, “but I understand why he would have chosen to run away with you, Byun Baekhyun. I’d run away with you too, if I could.”

Baekhyun sobbed, but didn’t said anything otherwise.

“I’m giving you only a chance, Baekhyun, a chance to save yourself. Either you take it, or you’re Choi Minho’s bitch for the rest of your life.”

“Tell me what to do.”

The rumbling, vibrating sound of loud music shook the foundation of the clubhouse. Baekhyun had drank too much, and the copious flow of alcohol in his veins blurred his sight, making him seen the colours of the night world as vivid and vibrant ad he had never seen them.

He usually didn’t drink during his shifts, he preferred to stay awake and aware, never lowering his guard in fear of what could have happened if he did. But this wasn't his shift.

The people dancing around him were like ghosts in his inebriated mind, hands clawing at his clothes and trying to make him fall. He couldn’t even focus enough to see their faces, check if they were his old clients or not, but he let himself be pulled to the wall and kissed by a stranger, before having the force to slap the hands that were pinning him to the wall away.

Baekhyun sighed as he slipped to the ground, trying to keep his head still, but despite his efforts he feel like his mind was spinning and everything was moving and even the floor was shaking like an earthquake had decided to come only for him, to swallow him up and make Byun Baekhyun disappear from the face of the earth.

Lu Han had been clear, as much as he had been cruel. The fog of drunkenness wasn’t nearly enough to keep his thoughts away from the previous conversation with his former best friend. Pitiful he had been, but the chance he had presented to Baekhyun, his freedom on a silver platter, came with a high price, one that Baekhyun wasn’t sure he could afford to pay. He was no Chanyeol, who had the luck to forget and managed to go on with his life despite having done terrible things. Baekhyun should have lived with such a weight on his shoulder for the rest of his life. Could he survive the burden?

Lu Han’s plan was Machiavellian, perfect in every detail. It was no surprise he managed to rule with an iron fist an empire so vast and articulate, it was no surprise that all of his enemies fell and disappeared, even their legacy forgotten, before they could even have the chance to make a move against him. Like in a perfect chess game, Lu Han was moving his pawns and Baekhyun had to be his queen for one night.

“Choi Minho has been doing things behind my back,” had said Lu Han with the most serious and professional voice Baekhyun had ever heard him use, “and his next move, once he’ll have his new allies secured, will be trying to kill me.”

Baekhyun had listened, his heart still threatening to give up under the pressure of what Lu Han had just asked him to do.

“If I fall, the rest of the empire will fall. And obviously we can’t let that happen, right?”

“But,” had tried to object Baekhyun, “he doesn’t know your true identity, right?”

Lu Han had thought about it. “No, he doesn’t,” he had confirmed, “but there’s always the possibility that someone else does… Blackmail, money, simple carelessness, there are too many ways.” He frowned, as if he was thinking of something in particular. “You don’t happen to know how Chanyeol found out about you working for me, right?”

Baekhyun shook his head. Despite having asked himself many times, Chanyeol hadn’t revealed the source of his information, neither to him.

“Never mind,” Lu Han smiled, “that’s a secondary problem, and I’ll deal with it on my own…”

“But Chanyeol,” tried to protest Baekhyun, before Lu Han shut him up with a finger on his lips.

“Forget about Chanyeol! He’s a grown up child, he doesn’t need you to constantly nag over him. You better be worrying about yourself, Baek.”

Baekhyun looked like he really wanted to say something, but in the end just nodded.

“Do you understand why I’m sending you, and not Chanyeol, this time?”

Baekhyun had thought about it. “Do the rest of the group know about the betrayal? I mean, are they collaborating with him?”

Lu Han beamed, looking proud of him, “That’s my clever boy! No, Baekhyun, they don’t know it, but obviously they’d be furious if they’d just found out I ordered one of them killed, don’t you think? They’re very loyal to their little club.”

Baekhyun was starting to understand the twistedness of the plans.

“Actually, I think Jinki knows. And Kibum surely suspects something, but they’re just waiting to know how farther will Minho be able to go before I stop him.”

“If he goes far enough they’ll join him, but if you stop him first they’ll want revenge, right?”

“I should keep you at my advisor Baekhyun, Kris is so boring and staid lately!”

“So do you want me to do it, and make it pass as an accident?”

Lu Han’s eyes were glowing, as if he was so delighted from the perfection of his plan to be unable to keep the excitement at bay. “Exactly! Think about it, Baekhyun, gossips are the soul of this world, everyone knows you and Chanyeol are an item, and Choi Minho surely knows it too. He already sent his men to kill Chanyeol, which, by the way, was an incredibly rude thing to do since we’re still formally allies and your boyfriend works for me…”

He pushed a restless Baekhyun back on the bed, the other boy ready to jump down the over a hundred floors to go save his useless boytoy.

“Would you please calm down, Baekhyun! Don’t worry, Yifan took care of them, now listen to me!”

Baekhyun, still shaken by the possibility of Chanyeol being in danger, didn’t even register the name slipped out of Lu Han’s lips.

“I’d really send Chanyeol to solve this problem for me, but Minho isn’t a stupid, and he’s well protected. Chanyeol wouldn’t even be able to get close to him without being slaughtered.”

It was, Baekhyun realized, the only plan. He was the only one who could hope to get a chance at killing Choi Minho, no one else was allowed in his presence, no else had the possibility of seeing him in his most vulnerable state.

“It will be like one of those harmony stories, the prostitute who kills her master on order to escape with her true love, people will love the drama. And I won’t bear responsibilities. After all,” and his smile was innocent and angelic, “I did warn him you were taken.”

Baekhyun’s mind was working like a train, trying to find the trap hidden in the offer. “They’ll come for me, the others. They'll try to kill me, won’t they?”

He scanned Lu Han’s eyes for some sign of guilt, but they were serene and in control.

“No, they won’t. Not if I help you to escape. You’ll disappear, without leaving the faintest trace. A new name, a new life, a new start, Baekhyun, think about it.”

He sighed. “I don’t know if I can do this, Han. I don’t think I’ll be able to kill another person. I think he’ll slaughter me, because I can’t do this.”

“You have to,” said Lu Han seriously, “like I said, it’s your one and only chance. Don’t screw it, Baekhyun.”

As he waltzed on the dance floor, trying badly to stand on unsure feet, Baekhyun could only be sure of one thing. He wouldn’t be able to kill anyone, and Choi Minho would've him shot for trying. It didn’t matter in the end. Better dying while trying to save himself than living a life that didn’t belong to him.

He wanted to see Chanyeol. So badly.

When he managed to stumble his way out of the club, not without a little more resistance from one or two patrons as drunk as him who wanted to have a little fun, he spared no time in calling a taxi. Ignoring the looks of distaste he received because of his revealing clothes and smudged make-up, he just threw Chanyeol’s address to the driver and slumped on the backseat.

The stairs to Chanyeol’s apartment were twisting and moving, Baekhyun felt tiny and weak like a paper doll, ready to be smashed by the gear that kept moving, forced to walk forever on an endless staircase. The taste of alcohol in his mouth was still strong, and he tried to concentrate on the sting, hoping it could chase away the nightmares that intoxication was arousing in his confused mind.

Like Alice at the end of the dream, all of the characters were chasing him in a dark maze, Lu Han changing his face and becoming Hannie, and then Lu Han again, cruel and merciless. Jongin, Jongdae, Song Qian, all the boys and the girls whom he had meet during his years at the club, dark figures twisting like snakes in red light. Minho chasing after him with bloodied hands and unruly hair, the sign of his kisses keeping Baekhyun still as his shadow became bigger and bigger. And Chanyeol, his charming prince with bloodied hands, ready to become a monster himself only to save Baekhyun.

But if, what if, thought Baekhyun, what if I become the monster, too? Who will stay sane enough to pull Chanyeol out of this madness? Who will wake me up from the nightmare?

He shook his head, clearing his mind from the fog, ignoring the drums still playing in his mind to squint his eyes at the stairwell. His grip on the handrail gradually loosened when he realized the floor wasn’t moving, and he dared to take another step towards the seventh floor.

He was now glad he decided not to take the elevator, it would have done miracles for his claustrophobia to be trapped in a narrow, closed space during this stage of hangover, where every shadow seemed like a danger lurking at him from the darkness.

The sounds of steps made him recoil. Someone was descending the stairs, coming towards him.
Baekhyun jumped towards the wall and barely avoided being knocked out by a young, scandalously handsome man. He didn’t look at Baekhyun, he probably hadn’t seen him at all, and neither Baekhyun cared about him enough to look at his face. However, there was no way he could’ve missed the familiar cologne that oozed from the stranger’s skin.

The smell hit deep, his brain immediately summoning Chanyeol’s presence all around Baekhyun. Chanyeol had used the same cologne for years, since high school, never wanting to change the brand or the scent, and he had grown so used to the same bouquet over the years that he could no longer perceive it over his skin. Countless times Baekhyun had mocked him over the sea of perfume that followed him everywhere he went, so he had stopped using it, at least until tonight.

This night should have been ours, mused Baekhyun, date night. And Chanyeol had spent it with a stranger. But after all, who is to blame?

The sour smile had just tainted Baekhyun’s lips for a moment when the second boy appeared. This one was younger, and when he passed in front of Baekhyun with a furious frown on his face, Baekhyun couldn’t fail to notice the thick, blonde curls in his head.

He felt two times stupid because underneath the anger, the jealousy, the obvious resignation at Chanyeol’s endlessly childish and petty behaviour, he was proud. Even when he was angry, even when he wanted nothing to do with him, even when he was trying to be mean and cruel, even when he was cheating, Chanyeol always looked for Baekhyun in stranger’s hair and eyes and hands. Maybe he had pretended it was him, thought Baekhyun, maybe he hadn’t been the only one who had ended up drowning his sorrows in alcohol and now needed the warmth of familiar hands to chase the nightmares away for the night. Maybe Chanyeol was just waiting for his other half to show up.

There was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to feel outraged and angry, and whispered to Baekhyun’s will, go away, turn on your heels and leave him alone, let him have a taste of his own cruel medicine.

Maybe Chanyeol didn’t really need him. Maybe he was sated and calm, enjoying a good post-coital bliss rolled up in his bed. Maybe the monster of jealousy was gnawing at Baekhyun’s heart and weak lucidity, making him feel little and worthless and pathetic and ready to tear at Chanyeol’s one night stands if they just happened to set a foot near Chanyeol again.

In a delirious moment of empathy, he wondered if Chanyeol’s jealousy towards him had always felt this strong, how many times, in the muffled cocoon of his own thoughts, he had dreamed to take Baekhyun to work, wait for his clients to come and take their life for having touched what was his. Baekhyun liked to think that Chanyeol cared this much for him, if only because he didn’t want to be the only one so affected by their relationship. Chanyeol had always been so caring and understanding, never showing Baekhyun the signs of such a violent jealousy like the one that seemed to shake Baekhyun from his core in this moment. It was unsettling.

Now I see who’s getting a taste of his own medicine, he thought. The part of him that wanted to be proud, that wanted Baekhyun to preserve this part of himself intact, instead of tearing it out and giving it to Chanyeol as a gift like he had done with the rest of himself, shut up.

Baekhyun still covered the distance that separated him from Chanyeol’s door and he did it because now, in this moment, he needed Chanyeol. He needed Chanyeol and his arms and his kisses like he needed air. He needed Chanyeol’s gun on the coffee table, ready to destroy everything that tried to hurt Baekhyun. He needed Chanyeol and he needed to know that Chanyeol needed Baekhyun too, and all of the conflicted emotions in his heart, the fears, the chains keeping him tied to a promise made to a boy that he thought he knew in the name of a boy that had died for him, all of it faded in front of Chanyeol’s door. He stepped in.

part 4 >>