#38 One, Two, Buckle My Shoe
Prompt Number: 38
Author: demedicis
Title One, Two, Buckle My Shoe
Words: 6,423 words
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Summary: Teaching kids to read and write, and to not punch each other in the face? Easy. Learning how to act normal around someone like Wu Yifan? Not so easy. Au in which Baekhyun is a kindergaten teacher.
Author’s Note: to the OP, i know i probably deviated slightly from what you wanted, but i hope this fic still makes an enjoyable read. i'd like to thank the mods for this exchange, but also myself for getting this written during midterms.
“Jongdae, put those blocks down right now!” Baekhyun cries from where he’s sitting with Kyungsoo, who is still a bit teary-eyed after saying goodbye to his mother that morning, over three hours ago.
Jongdae, the little culprit, has been throwing wooden blocks around the classroom, screaming “sharknado!” despite the multicolored blocks bearing no resemblance to said specific marine catastrophe. Jongin had been howling in delight at Jongdae’s antics, clapping his tiny hands together to express his amusement, but his face is now twisted in something resembling guilt once he’s heard Baekhyun’s reprimand.
It’s playtime, and Baekhyun’s only on day three of this particular kindergarten class. It’s not his first year teaching five-year-olds their ABCs, but it doesn’t take an expert to know the perils of playtime. After one specific accident last year that had landed Baekhyun in a neck brace for two weeks, he tries to keep playtime organized. The green mat is for playing with Barbies, the blue mat for toy cars, trains, trucks-all miniature versions of transportation methods, really- and the red is for a collection of miscellaneous blocks and Legos.
“But Mr. Baekhyun,” Jongdae pleads, “I was making a sharknado!” his response is rather pointed for a four-and-a-half-year-old. Jongdae, Baekhyun understands, firmly believes that a sharknado is an acceptable activity, or rather throwing blocks in the air at the risk of many tiny and unsuspecting toes.
“No ‘but’s, Jongdae, throwing things is very dangerous. You could have hurt someone; what if one of the blocks had fallen on you, wouldn’t you find it painful to be hit by a block?” Baekhyun inquires, attempting to remind Jongdae that actions-surprise, surprise-have consequences. As expected, he doesn’t get through, because Jongdae is scowling. In one final act of defiance, the small boy angrily throws the last block in his hands at the mat. It’s a good day for irony, because the block hits another child right in the mouth.
The first through Baekhyun has is ‘why is Zitao lying down on his back?’, the second is that Zitao is screaming bloody murder. The boy wails as Baekhyun makes his way over, nearly tripping over Kyungsoo who has two comforting fingers in his mouth, trying to get to the crying child.
“Sit up, and let Mr. Baekhyun have a look,” he says, and Zitao comes tumbling into his arms. Baekhyun steadies him and puts both hands on his cheeks to hold his face still as Zitao whimpers pitifully. He is displeased to note that Zitao’s lip is busted, a few drops of blood dripping down his little chin.
He shoots a quick glance over his shoulder to Jongdae, “time out!” he barks before dragging Zitao to sit in a plastic chair to do something about his lip. Jongdae is wide-eyed and dazed, but at Baekhyun’s words he silently scurries off to sit in the ‘time-out bucket’, which is one part punishment, one part child-container.
“I’m dying! I’m going to die!” Zitao cries, and Baekhyun hushes him as he cleans his lip. It’s no longer bleeding, which is a good sign, and Baekhyun takes a moment to exhale in relief of the minimal carnage.
“You’re just fine, Zitao, all you need is some ice,” Baekhyun replies in his soothing tone that’s only reserved for situations like this. He grabs some ice from the freezer-one needs to be prepared for all kinds of cuts and bruises when working with tiny, overactive children- and wraps it in paper towel before handing it to Zitao.
The ice does a good job of distracting Zitao from his Inevitable Death as he curiously brings it to his lips. Baekhyun grins down at him, reassuringly patting his tiny shoulder.
After the incident, Baekhyun decides playtime is over, and urges the whole class, a group of twelve boys and girls, to go wash their hands at the sink that makes it as high as Baekhyun’s knee. Next up on the agenda is naptime, the most relaxing time of day for both students and teacher.
Jongdae, who may or may not have learned his lesson, sheepishly climbs out of the time-out bucket to lie on the sleeping mat he shares with Minseok. In the three days that Baekhyun has known him, Jongdae has been nothing but sweet as sunshine and rainbows, his fatal flaw being his need to empirically test if each object he comes across will defy gravity. Zitao’s lip is proof that he has yet to succeed in his quest.
Baekhyun dims the light, and glances at the little group as they doze. Children, in Baekhyun’s opinion, are delightfully wild and unrestrained, and Baekhyun, if he could recall back on his youth, had been quite the handful himself at their age. Children always feel so strongly, whether it be frustration, excitement, or, as Zitao had demonstrated, pain, yet Baekhyun admires their energy and pure optimism. Naptime, however, is a necessary time of day that allows Baekhyun to recharge from their adorable mayhem.
When naptime is finished, the day continues without another incident (except maybe Sehun stealing some of Jongin’s apple slices at snack time).Zitao’s lip has inevitably swollen, but the boy continues to smile as he builds a puzzle with Minseok and sings songs with the whole class. Jongdae has returned from his time-out with vigour, screaming instead of singing and chasing Sehun around the class room, pretending to be a dinosaur, as the other boy shrieks through his giggly escape.
At 4pm, kindergarten comes to a close, and Baekhyun lets out the biggest sigh. His class is a little bit bigger this year, and he’s noticing the added difficulty. Two third graders, Taeyeon and Tiffany, come to help his students who board the bus, leaving him with the five or so kids that are waiting for their parents to pick them up.
Only Zitao and Jongdae are left in the room when a tall man in a fancy-looking suit hesitantly pokes into the class. The boys are currently putting on a mock wedding for themselves, Baekhyun as the officiator, and he has to turn away from Zitao in his frilly costume dress kissing Jongdae’s tiny cheek to greet the visitor.
“Hello… I’m here for Jongdae?” the man says, voice a bit nasally but otherwise pleasant. In addition to the man’s proper attire, he has his hair, bleached a few shades lighter than brown, gelled back in a commendably elegant way. His face is long and features well defined, with thick brows and a pouty mouth. He’s very handsome, Baekhyun notes, who must look terribly young next to his man in his jeans, oversized Supreme t-shirt and worn out running shoes.
“Oh… are you his father?”
Baekhyun doesn’t really know the parents by heart yet, but he does remember that Jongdae’s mother had been very pretty, her eyes and mouth both cat-like just like her son.
“Father?” the man sputters a bit, and Baekhyun notes that the man, despite how he’s been dressed, is rather young. “No, no… I’m his uncle. I think my sister was supposed to leave a note? Or call? About me coming?”
The tall man, Jongdae’s uncle, had given off an intimidating vibe, but his nervousness towards Baekhyun is just plain cute. Baekhyun chuckles to himself as he moves to his desk, and retrieves a note that had been left with him that morning, forgotten until now.
“Ah, yes, the note’s right here,” Baekhyun affirms, before turning to Jongdae in the oversized tuxedo costume, “your uncle is here, Jongdae. You can marry Zitao tomorrow, get your stuff from your cubby and get ready to go.”
Jongdae, who had been thoroughly immersed in holding Zitao’s hand, turns around and his eyes sparkle when he sets eyes on his uncle.
“Uncle FAAAN!” He shouts, barrelling into the tall man’s arms. The man smiles as he scoops up the kindergartener, showcasing an adorable gummy smile that has Baekhyun smiling too as he watches on.
“Let’s get you home to your mom,” the man says, helping the kindergartener remove the dress-up clothing and replace it with Jongdae’s bright yellow Pikachu cap. Baekhyun feels his heart warm at the sight of his student’s happy smile, and he’s reassured that Jongdae really is a sweet kid underneath all the… occasional terror.
The man turns his face back to Baekhyun, and it nearly catches him off guard because he’s really that good-looking. “I’m Byun Baekhyun, Jongdae’s teacher, but you can call me Mr. Byun.” Baekhyun counters his one moment of weakness with a playful wink.
Jongdae’s uncle sputters for a second, “I-is Byun-ssi alright, instead?”
Baekhyun roars in laughter, and he’s pleased to note the sound of Zitao laughing along with him.
“No, no, I was joking! You can call me anything; call me Baekhyun if you like, I don’t mind,” he explains. The man looks flushed and Baekhyun revels in it. He’s always loved the bashful type, so easy to get under their skin and to tease. He may teach small children for a living, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be a little devilish on occasion. The man’s crisp, button up attire is a stark contrast to his coloured cheeks and-dare Baekhyun admit it-cute expression.
Eventually he gets Jongdae’s tiny arms in the sleeves of his sweater and the two are good to go. The man sling’s Jongdae’s dinosaur backpack over his shoulder and takes his nephew’s hand.
“Bye, Bye, Mr. Baekhyunie~” Jongdae says-screams-rather over his shoulder as he’s lead outside the class.
“Bye, Jongdae, see you on Monday~!”
Baekhyun watches the little tyke leaves and realizes he never caught the man’s name. He quickly checks the note that Jongdae’s mother left him that morning.
“…Wu Yifan.” He stares at the doorframe where the two had just vanished until tiny hands tug on his pants because Zitao has just noticed his mom’s van pulling up in the parking lot.
***
Two weeks have gone by and both Jongdae and Zitao have been hitting it off. Zitao’s lip has fully healed, and the two boys now love to play ‘dragon and damsel in distress’, while alternating who gets to be the dragon.
The kids have warmed up to Baekhyun and even Kyungsoo no longer cries when his mom leaves-okay, maybe he still sniffles a bit, but it’s progress. Despite the time where Sehun nearly choked on a grape and Krystal whacked him on the back till long after the fruit had been dislodged, there have been hardly any incidents. He spends these weeks instructing the kids on the proper way to hold a crayon, and how to write their names without any mistakes and count to one hundred.
It’s near the end of the day and Baekhyun is wiping up some spilt apple juice, two kids tugging on either pant leg, when he notices a figure in the door way. He’s pleased but not surprised to note that it’s the same man, Jongdae’s uncle, from the last time. This time around, he had paid attention when Jongdae’s mom handed him a written note early that morning. It’s a bit childish of him, but Baekhyun had been sort of looking forward to meeting the well-dressed, slightly awkward, handsome man again.
“Hey, there! Here to pick up Jongdae?” Baekhyun chirps. The boy in question is currently drawing ‘cool tattoos’ on Sehun and Xiumin with washable marker, and Baekhyun is turning a blind eye because he finds Jongdae’s attempt at a ‘scary skull’ particularly hilarious.
“Well, yes,” the man, who Baekhyun remembers is Wu Yifan, responds as he scans the sea of small children working on their arts and crafts. “I think I arrived a bit too early, though?”
It’s about twenty minutes till parents usually start showing up, and thirty before Baekhyun helps pack the lucky few up for the bus.
“I mean, if you want to take him home early, that’s perfectly acceptable.” One less kid to deal with always makes things run smoother.
“Uh, maybe…maybe I’ll come back in a bit. I had some few errands to run, and I can get them done with while Jongdae plays, is that okay?” he looks a bit nervous, like he’s doing something wrong, and Baekhyun is amused.
He flashes a brilliant grin, “of course! I’ll see you in a few?”
The man blinks, then nods, “…yeah, in a few.”
Forty-five minutes pass and now the only child left is Jongdae, and Baekhyun is a bit anxious. Jongdae’s uncle didn’t specify exactly how long he was going to be, and Baekhyun doesn’t have any way to contact him. Instead, he lets Jongdae fulfill his ambition of tattoo artistry, and he doodles a collection of interesting designs up Baekhyun’s forearm and bicep. Baekhyun’s favourite is Jongdae’s self-portrait, in the pit of his elbow.
Luckily, he doesn’t have to wait much longer, as the man returns. His fancy-looking dress shirt is soaked, and Baekhyun only now notices that it’s pouring rain outside. He shivers; Baekhyun hates how cool and damp the air gets during rainfall. He resents the bus ride home to his apartment.
“Sorry!” the man sputters, probably aware that he’s kept Baekhyun waiting, “I had to wait longer than expected, but if it’s any consolation, I brought you this.”
He holds up a cup of coffee from a café near the school, and Baekhyun takes the drink as the man bends down to where Baekhyun is seated, which is a lot due to his towering height. It’s a very kind gesture, and he’s rather touched. “Thank you very much,” he replies, genuinely.
“No problem,” he turns to his nephew, still drawing away, “come on, Dae, it’s time to get you home.”
“No!” Jongdae wails pitifully, pouting up at his uncle, and dejectedly clutching his marker. “I want to make more tattoos! Look, I made one like Uncle Fan!”
Jongdae excitedly points to one of the markings on Baekhyun’s bicep, which he thinks looks something like a scorpion.
“Oh, wow, Jongdae! That looks just like mine!” his uncle praises, inspecting the design.
Baekhyun gulps, because from his formal appearance, Baekhyun never expected him to be the type to have a tattoo. He stares at the man’s bicep, covered by his sleeve, wondering what exactly was underneath (assuming Jongdae’s representation was not fully accurate).
“Yup, I want to have ten… no, eleven tattoos when I’m a grown up. No more than eleven, though, because that’s too many,” Jongdae continues to explain, yet Baekhyun’s pretty sure his one arm must be sporting about fifteen.
“I’m Wu Yifan, by the way. I don’t think I got to introduce myself last time, sorry about that. If you’re wondering, since you said I could call you Baekhyun, you can call me Yifan,” the man, Yifan, decides to say as Jongdae continues to ramble about his new-found passion. Next week, he’ll probably want to be a cowboy or a zookeeper. Baekhyun loves five-year-olds.
“Aw,” he replies, “no Mr. Yifan?”
The man chuckles, showcasing his gummy smile, “well, Mr. Baekhyun if you insist…”
They both laugh, and Jongdae giggles, “can I be Mr. Jongdae?”
“Well… we’ll have to ask your mom about that one,” Yifan answers and Jongdae almost looks put out for a moment.
Baekhyun is suddenly reminded by the mention of Jongdae’s mother that there is something not quite right about the whole situation.
“Do you mind if I ask you a slightly personal question?”
“Uh… go ahead?” Yifan raises one of his bushy brows curiously.
“Well, I can’t help but notice that your name isn’t very Korean,” Baekhyun states. It’s not truly a question, but he doesn’t know how ask what he wants to know; he doesn’t want to accidentally offend Yifan or bring up sensitive material. He’s curious because last he checked both of Jongdae’s parents had Korean names, and Yifan seems to be an anomaly.
“Oh, that,” Yifan mutters thoughtfully, before elaborating, “when I was young, me and my mother-”
“-my mother and I… sorry, it’s a habit, please continue.”
“My mother and I moved to Korea from China when I was a kid, and she remarried here not long after. Jongdae’s mother is my step-sister, technically, and she’s over ten years older than myself. We’re decently close, her and I, but since I pass both the school and her family’s house on my way home I offer to pick up Jongdae sometimes. I used to pick him up from preschool, too. You’d be surprised, but he was actually quieter back then.”
They both turn to Jongdae, and Yifan groans at the sight, while Baekhyun can’t hold back a laugh. The kindergartener has attempted to colour the entirety of his forehead red with marker in apparent boredom. As his teacher, Baekhyun goes to get a cloth to wash off the red, but not before snapping a quick picture on his phone. He likes to make small photo albums for the parents at the end of the school year, and he thinks he already has the cover picture for Jongdae’s.
After giving Jongdae a good lather with a warm cloth, they both help gather all his things, while the child in question is set with the task of making sure every marker has the appropriately coloured cap.
“Sorry for being nosy, I can’t really help myself sometimes,” Baekhyun announces, brushing some of his frazzled, dyed hair out of his face. He’s never been able to mind his own business, and at the top of his head can name about ten separate incidents where his curiosity has gotten him in trouble.
“There’s nothing to apologize for, Baekhyun. Besides, it was nice to chat on an informal level for once.” Yifan is smiling and Baekhyun doesn’t know if he’ll even get over how that one action can change Yifan’s entire expression from ‘all-business’ to ‘suspiciously-cute’. Yifan, in his fancy dress, is like a diamond, and Baekhyun is a pebble that’s been kicked into his path, drowning in an embarrassingly oversized Supreme hoodie.
Jongdae wraps his small around Yifan’s thumb and they head to the door.
“Oh, I almost forgot. I was wondering… could I get your phone number, you know, so I can put you down as one of Jongdae’s contacts?”
“Oh, um, alright,” Yifan says, and after a moment he pulls something from his pocket, “the second number is mine.”
Baekhyun takes the piece of paper, and recognisesit as a business card. The gold lettering on the dark blue card reads ‘exo industries’, which Baekhyun has never heard of before. The logo incorporates a mannequin bust and it leads him to think it may have something to do with fashion. He types the phone number, next to WU YIFAN, into the notes of his phone and saves it.
When he looks up again Wu Yifan has already left, taking Jongdae with him, and Baekhyun makes to slump down in the chair at his desk. He dedicates the next ten minutes to gauge the reason why he feels strange after the encounter, but he doesn’t have long to think before he falls asleep sitting up.
***
“No… M comes before N…. don’t forget about Q.”
Baekhyun rubs his face against his pillows and tries to get more comfortable. Something had awoken him and now the irksome thing won’t let him go back to sleep. He’s thrown his covers off the bed already, but despite only in boxers and a t-shirt he feels overly warm. He flips the pillow, hoping that the cooler side of it will lull him back in to the land of dreams.
He still feels the strong sense of annoyance and he moans pitifully and curls into a ball. What could possibility be keeping him from a peaceful slumber at this hour…?
His eyes fly open.
The annoying rrrngrrrngrrrng of his alarm fills his bedroom.
Baekhyun flips over and checks the clock, cursing at the time. It’s 8AM and Baekhyun is late. Late to teach children and late to his job and late being a productive and responsible member of society.
He whisks his glasses off his nightstand, the thin frame ones with the circular lenses, because he has no time to bother with contacts. He rummages through his drawers in search of something to clothe his body with and finally closes the alarm on his phone. There’s three missed calls and two voice messages and Baekhyun completely ignores them while grabbing a water bottle and a baseball cap to hide his bedhead and he exits his apartment, a layer of sweat on his brow.
The last time Baekhyun was late it was because he’d somehow caught the flu from one of his students and he had forgotten to call in sick to the school. That time, however, the second he’d shown up, still in pajama pants and running an alarmingly high fever, Baekhyun had immediately been sent back home to rest.
This time he doesn’t have the same excuse, but he supposes the sweatpants he’d somehow manhandled up his legs were better than sleepwear. He looks more like a morning jogger than a teacher, much less one that has to educate impressionable, young children.
He dashes to the bus stop, and of course misses it by mere seconds. He curses his luck, and decides he might as well take advantage of his choice of sweat-wear and run to the school instead, because that will probably be faster than waiting for the next bus. The air is chilly enough that he shouldn’t be too sweaty.
He passes a car stopped at a red light, one of the ones that cost thrice Baekhyun’s yearly salary, and sulkily wishes he had that kind of transportation instead. He doesn’t even have his driver’s licence, and has nothing but public transit to rely on. He hopes the expensive car breaks down or something, serves them right for having more reliable transportation than Baekhyun.
Instead, after the light changes, the car pulls up beside him and Baekhyun stops, staring at the tinted windows in confusion. The windows of the sleek, white, SUV roll down, and Baekhyun immediately recognizes the driver inside.
He wishes the cracks of the sidewalk he’s standing on could open up and swallow him into the earth.
“Do you need a lift?” the driver asks, and Baekhyun is too stunned to do anything but nod his head dumbly.
He climbs into Wu Yifan’s car and has never felt so inadequate in his life. The inside of the car is incredibly sleek, complete with leather seats, and Baekhyun feels more like the few pieces of trash stuffed into the cup-holder than an actual passenger.
“So, where to?” Yifan asks, seemingly in high spirits. He has what Baekhyun is 99% sure Girl’s Generation playing from the car’s speaker system and Baekhyun would comment on his music taste if he weren’t almost an hour late to work and dressed like a track-and-field star, complete with his out of shape huffing and wheezing. Baekhyun wiggles his baseball cap lower to shadow his face.
“Uh, just up the road to, uh, the school. I kinda… slept through my alarm?” Baekhyun squeaks.
Yifan hums understandably and Baekhyun really, really, really wishes he had washed his face before leaving home.
The drive is very short, and less than six traffic lights since Baekhyun got on Yifan is pulling up to the front of the school to drop him off. Baekhyun has flashbacks to climbing out of his parents’ car to go to class as a young student himself, but he shakes those thoughts away.
“Thank you so much for the lift, I hope it wasn’t too out of your way,” Baekhyun quicklyexclaims, hoping his gratitude is apparent. He’s still late, but at least this way he isn’t at risk for an asthma attack.
“It’s no problem really, I told you already I pick up Jongdae because it’s on my way.” Yifan grins confidently from the driver’s seat and Baekhyun is suddenly a believer in spontaneous human combustion, because he body heats up unnaturally, particularly in his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “Oh, I almost forgot. Grab the bag in the back, will you?”
Baekhyun peers behind his seat and sees a tote bag sitting on the back seat. He grabs it and offers it to Yifan, “is it this?”
“Yeah. My friend Yixing slept over at my place a few weeks ago and I’ve been meaning to bring back the clothing he left over. You can borrow them, if you want, and just give them back to me another time or something. I figure they might be a little more presentable than… well…” he gestures to Baekhyun’s outfit, which if he’s honest with himself, probably isn’t that much better than pajamas. The shame is almost too much to endure.
“Thank you so much! Are you sure that it’s okay if I take your friend’s clothing?”
Yifan waves a hand dismissively, “knowing Yixing, he’s probably already forgotten that he left them behind in the first place.”
If it were socially acceptable to throw himself down to his knees and his Yifan’s feet in gratitude, he would, but instead settles for another jumbled string of ‘thank you’s.
“Well, Baekhyun, I have to get going. Have a good day!” Yifan says awkwardly, and Baekhyun remembers that he too is seriously late and should get to class.
“Right, Right. Bye, and thanks again,” Baekhyun calls and he takes the bag Yifan gave him and wonders how on earth he’s going to get himself out of trouble.
The first thing he does when he gets inside the elementary school building is run into the staff bathroom to change, hoping no one sees him until he looks somewhat more presentable. The clothing in the bag, a pair of navy slacks and a white button-up, is undoubtedly way nicer than anything he’s ever worn to work, which is a bit sad considering the outfit is still relatively casual compared to what Yifan had been wearing in the car. The pants are a bit loose, he has to admit, but overall it’s a success.
The moment he steps into his classroom he’s shoved back by none other than his friend and co-worker, Joonmyun, who teaches second grade. Joonmyun is frowning at him sternly, but Baekhyun has trouble taking anyone in a sweater vest seriously.
“You owe me at least three batches of your grandma’s famous cookies for covering for you. I told the principal that you had to leave to take an emergency call. Where the hell were you?” Joonmyun hisses. Baekhyun peeks inside his classroom to see his kids are currently invested in finger painting, probably Joonmyun’s idea to get back at him because Baekhyun hasn’t make kids touch paint since the Great Paint Episode of 2014-he still has nightmares about daffodil yellow splattering the walls.
“I’m so sorry, Joon, I overslept. I promise I’ll make it up to you,” Baekhyun apologizes.
“You better,” the shorter man scoffs, and heads back to his own classroom down the hall. Joonmyun might be passive aggressive, but there’s no denying he’s a lifesaver.
Baekhyun gets back into the groove of things, rounding up his kids and getting them ready for their morning snack. They apparently don’t seem to mind that he arrives much later than usual, and instead rush their cubbies to get their lunchboxes.
If he expected his day to get better from that point on, he was wrong. Jongin somehow spills his milk all over his pants and starts crying, and it takes Baekhyun a good fifteen minutes to console him. Minseok accidentally runs over Baekhyun’s foot with a surprisingly heavy toy dump truck-of course the kindergartener filled it up with all the wooden blocks. Zitao and Amber gang up to tease Kyungsoo, who throws a chair at them and Baekhyun’s life flashes before his eyes. He swears, in all his years, he’s never experienced a more stressful day. When nap time comes around, Baekhyun joins in, dozing on his desk hoping some sleep will undo the pain of that day. Thank god, he thinks as he rests his head in his hands, it’s Friday.
Even the worst day has to end, and the kids go home to their parents. Jongdae had cried a bit about not wanting to leave behind his impressive block tower, and Baekhyun had assured him he would see it again on Monday so that he would leave with his mother. No one is left, and Baekhyun exhales in relief. This will be his last free weekend before he has to write term evaluations, and he plans to fully make the most of it by doing nothing.
His lazy daydream is shattered by a knock at the door. He severely hopes its Joonmyun coming to reprimand him some more and not the principal. Baekhyun has always been terrible with figures of authority, although technically he is one.
Instead, it’s Yifan, looking impeccable and wearing the same thing as that morning, minus a jacket. Baekhyun wonders how he manages to keep his hair in place all day.
“Oh,” Baekhyun says, “Jongdae’s mother picked him up a couple minutes ago, there must have been a miscommunication…”
“Ah, no, I didn’t come for Jongdae…” Yifan shuffles his feet and bites his lip.
“No?” who else then?
“I came to see you, I…I hope that’s okay?” Yifan seems reserved.
Baekhyun doesn’t understand.
“Me?”
Yifan chuckles at Baekhyun’s confusion, and closes most of the distance between them with a few long strides, because he’s impossibly tall. Baekhyun feels miniscule under his gaze, noticing the intensity behind Yifan’s dark eyes. Baekhyun wants to break eye contact and turn away, but he can’t. He stares back and feels the hairs on the back of his neck prickling.
“Yes, you,” is the amused reply, “I got you something.”
Yifan shows Baekhyun whatever he has in his hand, and extends it out for him to take. Baekhyun grabs hold of the item and his lips twitch upwards as his eyes meet Yifan’s again. It’s an alarm clock. “I thought you might be in need of a better wake up call.”
Baekhyun presses a button and the screen flashes on revealing the time. He can’t hold back his smile any longer, his embarrassment from the morning having washed away.
“If it can get me up, I’m sure it will come in handy, thank you,” he replies, and puts the clock down on his desk.
“Just so you know,” Yifan starts, “there’s already an alarm set for tomorrow at 8PM.”
“Tomorrow?” Baekhyun questions, “but I’m not doing anything tomorrow.”
“Good, I had hoped you’d say that. Can I take you out tomorrow night, if you don’t mind? I know a good place to eat not too far from here.”
Baekhyun blinks, “Me?”
Yifan taps him on the nose with a long, slender finger, “haven’t we already established that I’m talking about you. Did you forget?” Yifan is smiling at him, showcasing gums and eyes crinkling. He looks far too handsome for his own good and Baekhyun can barely handle it. He covers his face with his hands as he processes Yifan’s request.
“O-Okay,” Baekhyun’s wobbly voice responds. Did someone crank up the heater? “You can…take me out.”
The pleased look on Yifan’s face is worth it, “great! You have my number, but give me yours. I’ll text you the details.”
They exchange contact information and Baekhyun tries to process how this is happening, after a miserable, long day. This was some turn around.
“Would you like a lift home?” the taller man offers.
“No, I’m fine.” Baekhyun could really use the cool wind outside to lower his temperature, that and the fact that Yifan’s presence is a tad overwhelming.
“See you tomorrow?” he looks hopeful and not for the first time Baekhyun finds the other man to be cute. People say Baekhyun is cute because he’s small, with round cheeks and tiny mouth, but Yifan is his own cute…a tall, slightly awkward cute.
Baekhyun grabs hold of himself and remembers who he is. He winks with a smirk, “It’s a date.” Baekhyun isn’t the only one who can be smooth.
On the bus ride home Baekhyun contemplates the ethics of going out with Yifan. He’s sure there must be some unwritten rule not to go on dates with student’s parents-imagine being the homewrecker- but he’s not sure the same applies for step-uncles. He concludes by deciding that he does not care, he likes Yifan.
***
Baekhyun has worn lots of different things on dates. He’s worn snapbacks, ripped jeans, flannel shirts, sweatshirts, more ripped jeans, beanies, and even a tuxedo for his brother’s wedding. He does not know, however, how to dress himself for someone who wears designer everything and watches that are probably worth more than Baekhyun’s entire wardrobe.
He debates calling Chanyeol for help, but he recalls his friend has basically been living in the same hoodie for the past four years, and would probably suggest something like ‘show up naked, it’ll catch him off guard’. Baekhyun will have to do without aid.
He finds a pair of dark wash jeans that are miraculously without any tears, and matches them with a neutral, dark sweater. It takes him thirty minutes to clean the dirt from his shoes so that they look presentably, but by the time Baekhyun looks acceptable, it’s nearly 8PM.
He isn’t expecting Yifan to ring the doorbell, but when he does Baekhyun runs to answer it, fixing his hair to make sure the strands are all in place. Yifan looks far too attractive for his own good, and his cheeks are tinged red from the wind.
“Here, I got you these,” the taller man says, holding up a bouquet of flowers to Baekhyun’s nose.
“Flowers?” Baekhyun gasps, because when was the last time someone ever bought him flowers? Never? He accepts the bouquet, “thank you.” They smell wonderful, but he hurriedly places them in a vase in case they tickle his nose and make him sneeze.
“Shall we go?” Yifan asks, like a true gentleman.
Baekhyun nods his head, “yes, I’d say the alarm should go off any minute now.”
Yifan, Baekhyun learns, is not a perfect gentleman, but he’s not far off.
Yifan takes him out to dinner, at a relatively high-end place. Baekhyun wolf whistles as they take their seats, causing their waiter to raise a brow. Yifan squints his eyes at him, but Baekhyun can tell he’s amused.
Yifan offers to pay before they even order, but Baekhyun retaliates by pointing out that Yifan already bought him an alarm clock and flowers.
“I know you rich type like to throw money at all your problems, but I’m an employed individual and I can pay for my own hamburger steak, thank you very much,” Baekhyun states.
“Rich type?” Yifan frowns.
“Yeah, you know, all fancy and,” Baekhyun gestures to Yifan, “all like this.”
Yifan pouts, “Is that supposed to be an insult? I’ll have you know I been working full-time towards my career since age eighteen. Forgive me for enjoying the fruits of my labour.”
“Eighteen?” Baekhyun tries not to sound shocked, “what about school?”
“My family was not always privileged when I was younger, so there wasn’t much emphasis on school. I did take some night classes in my early twenties, though. I kind of lost interest when I discovered I could do well without them. I might go back, someday, if you were my teacher…” he wags his eyebrows suggestively and Baekhyun kicks him lightly under the table.
“I’m pretty sure you already know your ABCs, but I’d be happy to go over the basics if you still need help,” Baekhyun replies, smirking, and Yifan simply laughs. The waiter comes not long afterwards to take their order.
The rest of the evening goes by similarly, with Baekhyun teasing his date but by the same token learning little bits and pieces of him. He laughs inappropriately loud when Yifan tells the story of when he first got to hold baby Jongdae, panicked, and almost dropped him, that a couple at the table next to them shushes him. Baekhyun doesn’t care too much about being impolite, after all he’s mostly exposed to the manners-or lack thereof-of five-year-olds, who still think eating rice with their fingers is totally fine and not at all disgusting.
Yifan drives him home after their date and walks him to his apartment. Baekhyun had originally planned not to go out all weekend and keep to himself, but he enjoyed the evening. He enjoys Yifan’s company, and is almost sad the night has to end.
“Thank you for coming out with me tonight, Baekhyun,” his date says, looking particularly handsome in the dimly lit hallway.
“My pleasure,” he responds, leaning back against his door. He wishes that in this moment time could pass a bit slower, and maybe it does.
After eternity, Yifan leans down to press his lips to Baekhyun’s in a gentle kiss. Baekhyun notes that his lips are softer than expected, and he tilts his head to get a better angle.
Baekhyun’s heart beats wildly in his chest, and when they pull away, he wishes he could keep the smile off his face, but it’s impossible. Yifan seems to be the same way, and they part, each radiating happiness.
When Baekhyun steps into his apartment, he’s greeted with the obnoxious sound of an alarm going off from his bedroom.
***
It’s been over a month since they made things official, and yet Yifan is no less extravagant.
Baekhyun is having his kids count by threes and fives and tens using little plastic chips when Joonmyun knocks at his door.
“Hello, special delivery~” the other teacher cries, and Baekhyun looks up to see him holding an enormous bouquet of different coloured roses inside of a basket.
“What’s that?” Baekhyun inquires, and he and his other twelve pairs of eyes are focussed on what Joonmyun’s holding.
“Something for Teacher Appreciation Week, I believe. Whoever sent you this really went all out, I’m a bit jealous,” Joonmyun remarks, and he walks over to put the basket on Baekhyun’s desk, next to the #1 Teacher mug Zitao had gifted him with earlier that week.
Baekhyun approaches to inspect the gift, and notices a card placed with the flowers.
In gold lettering, it reads: For Mr. Baekhyun, from WYF. P.S. see you at 9, tonight?
Baekhyun’s lips curl up as he reads. This time, it’s not Jongdae that Yifan’s picking up after school. Thank god it’s Friday.
Author: demedicis
Title One, Two, Buckle My Shoe
Words: 6,423 words
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Summary: Teaching kids to read and write, and to not punch each other in the face? Easy. Learning how to act normal around someone like Wu Yifan? Not so easy. Au in which Baekhyun is a kindergaten teacher.
Author’s Note: to the OP, i know i probably deviated slightly from what you wanted, but i hope this fic still makes an enjoyable read. i'd like to thank the mods for this exchange, but also myself for getting this written during midterms.
“Jongdae, put those blocks down right now!” Baekhyun cries from where he’s sitting with Kyungsoo, who is still a bit teary-eyed after saying goodbye to his mother that morning, over three hours ago.
Jongdae, the little culprit, has been throwing wooden blocks around the classroom, screaming “sharknado!” despite the multicolored blocks bearing no resemblance to said specific marine catastrophe. Jongin had been howling in delight at Jongdae’s antics, clapping his tiny hands together to express his amusement, but his face is now twisted in something resembling guilt once he’s heard Baekhyun’s reprimand.
It’s playtime, and Baekhyun’s only on day three of this particular kindergarten class. It’s not his first year teaching five-year-olds their ABCs, but it doesn’t take an expert to know the perils of playtime. After one specific accident last year that had landed Baekhyun in a neck brace for two weeks, he tries to keep playtime organized. The green mat is for playing with Barbies, the blue mat for toy cars, trains, trucks-all miniature versions of transportation methods, really- and the red is for a collection of miscellaneous blocks and Legos.
“But Mr. Baekhyun,” Jongdae pleads, “I was making a sharknado!” his response is rather pointed for a four-and-a-half-year-old. Jongdae, Baekhyun understands, firmly believes that a sharknado is an acceptable activity, or rather throwing blocks in the air at the risk of many tiny and unsuspecting toes.
“No ‘but’s, Jongdae, throwing things is very dangerous. You could have hurt someone; what if one of the blocks had fallen on you, wouldn’t you find it painful to be hit by a block?” Baekhyun inquires, attempting to remind Jongdae that actions-surprise, surprise-have consequences. As expected, he doesn’t get through, because Jongdae is scowling. In one final act of defiance, the small boy angrily throws the last block in his hands at the mat. It’s a good day for irony, because the block hits another child right in the mouth.
The first through Baekhyun has is ‘why is Zitao lying down on his back?’, the second is that Zitao is screaming bloody murder. The boy wails as Baekhyun makes his way over, nearly tripping over Kyungsoo who has two comforting fingers in his mouth, trying to get to the crying child.
“Sit up, and let Mr. Baekhyun have a look,” he says, and Zitao comes tumbling into his arms. Baekhyun steadies him and puts both hands on his cheeks to hold his face still as Zitao whimpers pitifully. He is displeased to note that Zitao’s lip is busted, a few drops of blood dripping down his little chin.
He shoots a quick glance over his shoulder to Jongdae, “time out!” he barks before dragging Zitao to sit in a plastic chair to do something about his lip. Jongdae is wide-eyed and dazed, but at Baekhyun’s words he silently scurries off to sit in the ‘time-out bucket’, which is one part punishment, one part child-container.
“I’m dying! I’m going to die!” Zitao cries, and Baekhyun hushes him as he cleans his lip. It’s no longer bleeding, which is a good sign, and Baekhyun takes a moment to exhale in relief of the minimal carnage.
“You’re just fine, Zitao, all you need is some ice,” Baekhyun replies in his soothing tone that’s only reserved for situations like this. He grabs some ice from the freezer-one needs to be prepared for all kinds of cuts and bruises when working with tiny, overactive children- and wraps it in paper towel before handing it to Zitao.
The ice does a good job of distracting Zitao from his Inevitable Death as he curiously brings it to his lips. Baekhyun grins down at him, reassuringly patting his tiny shoulder.
After the incident, Baekhyun decides playtime is over, and urges the whole class, a group of twelve boys and girls, to go wash their hands at the sink that makes it as high as Baekhyun’s knee. Next up on the agenda is naptime, the most relaxing time of day for both students and teacher.
Jongdae, who may or may not have learned his lesson, sheepishly climbs out of the time-out bucket to lie on the sleeping mat he shares with Minseok. In the three days that Baekhyun has known him, Jongdae has been nothing but sweet as sunshine and rainbows, his fatal flaw being his need to empirically test if each object he comes across will defy gravity. Zitao’s lip is proof that he has yet to succeed in his quest.
Baekhyun dims the light, and glances at the little group as they doze. Children, in Baekhyun’s opinion, are delightfully wild and unrestrained, and Baekhyun, if he could recall back on his youth, had been quite the handful himself at their age. Children always feel so strongly, whether it be frustration, excitement, or, as Zitao had demonstrated, pain, yet Baekhyun admires their energy and pure optimism. Naptime, however, is a necessary time of day that allows Baekhyun to recharge from their adorable mayhem.
When naptime is finished, the day continues without another incident (except maybe Sehun stealing some of Jongin’s apple slices at snack time).Zitao’s lip has inevitably swollen, but the boy continues to smile as he builds a puzzle with Minseok and sings songs with the whole class. Jongdae has returned from his time-out with vigour, screaming instead of singing and chasing Sehun around the class room, pretending to be a dinosaur, as the other boy shrieks through his giggly escape.
At 4pm, kindergarten comes to a close, and Baekhyun lets out the biggest sigh. His class is a little bit bigger this year, and he’s noticing the added difficulty. Two third graders, Taeyeon and Tiffany, come to help his students who board the bus, leaving him with the five or so kids that are waiting for their parents to pick them up.
Only Zitao and Jongdae are left in the room when a tall man in a fancy-looking suit hesitantly pokes into the class. The boys are currently putting on a mock wedding for themselves, Baekhyun as the officiator, and he has to turn away from Zitao in his frilly costume dress kissing Jongdae’s tiny cheek to greet the visitor.
“Hello… I’m here for Jongdae?” the man says, voice a bit nasally but otherwise pleasant. In addition to the man’s proper attire, he has his hair, bleached a few shades lighter than brown, gelled back in a commendably elegant way. His face is long and features well defined, with thick brows and a pouty mouth. He’s very handsome, Baekhyun notes, who must look terribly young next to his man in his jeans, oversized Supreme t-shirt and worn out running shoes.
“Oh… are you his father?”
Baekhyun doesn’t really know the parents by heart yet, but he does remember that Jongdae’s mother had been very pretty, her eyes and mouth both cat-like just like her son.
“Father?” the man sputters a bit, and Baekhyun notes that the man, despite how he’s been dressed, is rather young. “No, no… I’m his uncle. I think my sister was supposed to leave a note? Or call? About me coming?”
The tall man, Jongdae’s uncle, had given off an intimidating vibe, but his nervousness towards Baekhyun is just plain cute. Baekhyun chuckles to himself as he moves to his desk, and retrieves a note that had been left with him that morning, forgotten until now.
“Ah, yes, the note’s right here,” Baekhyun affirms, before turning to Jongdae in the oversized tuxedo costume, “your uncle is here, Jongdae. You can marry Zitao tomorrow, get your stuff from your cubby and get ready to go.”
Jongdae, who had been thoroughly immersed in holding Zitao’s hand, turns around and his eyes sparkle when he sets eyes on his uncle.
“Uncle FAAAN!” He shouts, barrelling into the tall man’s arms. The man smiles as he scoops up the kindergartener, showcasing an adorable gummy smile that has Baekhyun smiling too as he watches on.
“Let’s get you home to your mom,” the man says, helping the kindergartener remove the dress-up clothing and replace it with Jongdae’s bright yellow Pikachu cap. Baekhyun feels his heart warm at the sight of his student’s happy smile, and he’s reassured that Jongdae really is a sweet kid underneath all the… occasional terror.
The man turns his face back to Baekhyun, and it nearly catches him off guard because he’s really that good-looking. “I’m Byun Baekhyun, Jongdae’s teacher, but you can call me Mr. Byun.” Baekhyun counters his one moment of weakness with a playful wink.
Jongdae’s uncle sputters for a second, “I-is Byun-ssi alright, instead?”
Baekhyun roars in laughter, and he’s pleased to note the sound of Zitao laughing along with him.
“No, no, I was joking! You can call me anything; call me Baekhyun if you like, I don’t mind,” he explains. The man looks flushed and Baekhyun revels in it. He’s always loved the bashful type, so easy to get under their skin and to tease. He may teach small children for a living, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be a little devilish on occasion. The man’s crisp, button up attire is a stark contrast to his coloured cheeks and-dare Baekhyun admit it-cute expression.
Eventually he gets Jongdae’s tiny arms in the sleeves of his sweater and the two are good to go. The man sling’s Jongdae’s dinosaur backpack over his shoulder and takes his nephew’s hand.
“Bye, Bye, Mr. Baekhyunie~” Jongdae says-screams-rather over his shoulder as he’s lead outside the class.
“Bye, Jongdae, see you on Monday~!”
Baekhyun watches the little tyke leaves and realizes he never caught the man’s name. He quickly checks the note that Jongdae’s mother left him that morning.
“…Wu Yifan.” He stares at the doorframe where the two had just vanished until tiny hands tug on his pants because Zitao has just noticed his mom’s van pulling up in the parking lot.
***
Two weeks have gone by and both Jongdae and Zitao have been hitting it off. Zitao’s lip has fully healed, and the two boys now love to play ‘dragon and damsel in distress’, while alternating who gets to be the dragon.
The kids have warmed up to Baekhyun and even Kyungsoo no longer cries when his mom leaves-okay, maybe he still sniffles a bit, but it’s progress. Despite the time where Sehun nearly choked on a grape and Krystal whacked him on the back till long after the fruit had been dislodged, there have been hardly any incidents. He spends these weeks instructing the kids on the proper way to hold a crayon, and how to write their names without any mistakes and count to one hundred.
It’s near the end of the day and Baekhyun is wiping up some spilt apple juice, two kids tugging on either pant leg, when he notices a figure in the door way. He’s pleased but not surprised to note that it’s the same man, Jongdae’s uncle, from the last time. This time around, he had paid attention when Jongdae’s mom handed him a written note early that morning. It’s a bit childish of him, but Baekhyun had been sort of looking forward to meeting the well-dressed, slightly awkward, handsome man again.
“Hey, there! Here to pick up Jongdae?” Baekhyun chirps. The boy in question is currently drawing ‘cool tattoos’ on Sehun and Xiumin with washable marker, and Baekhyun is turning a blind eye because he finds Jongdae’s attempt at a ‘scary skull’ particularly hilarious.
“Well, yes,” the man, who Baekhyun remembers is Wu Yifan, responds as he scans the sea of small children working on their arts and crafts. “I think I arrived a bit too early, though?”
It’s about twenty minutes till parents usually start showing up, and thirty before Baekhyun helps pack the lucky few up for the bus.
“I mean, if you want to take him home early, that’s perfectly acceptable.” One less kid to deal with always makes things run smoother.
“Uh, maybe…maybe I’ll come back in a bit. I had some few errands to run, and I can get them done with while Jongdae plays, is that okay?” he looks a bit nervous, like he’s doing something wrong, and Baekhyun is amused.
He flashes a brilliant grin, “of course! I’ll see you in a few?”
The man blinks, then nods, “…yeah, in a few.”
Forty-five minutes pass and now the only child left is Jongdae, and Baekhyun is a bit anxious. Jongdae’s uncle didn’t specify exactly how long he was going to be, and Baekhyun doesn’t have any way to contact him. Instead, he lets Jongdae fulfill his ambition of tattoo artistry, and he doodles a collection of interesting designs up Baekhyun’s forearm and bicep. Baekhyun’s favourite is Jongdae’s self-portrait, in the pit of his elbow.
Luckily, he doesn’t have to wait much longer, as the man returns. His fancy-looking dress shirt is soaked, and Baekhyun only now notices that it’s pouring rain outside. He shivers; Baekhyun hates how cool and damp the air gets during rainfall. He resents the bus ride home to his apartment.
“Sorry!” the man sputters, probably aware that he’s kept Baekhyun waiting, “I had to wait longer than expected, but if it’s any consolation, I brought you this.”
He holds up a cup of coffee from a café near the school, and Baekhyun takes the drink as the man bends down to where Baekhyun is seated, which is a lot due to his towering height. It’s a very kind gesture, and he’s rather touched. “Thank you very much,” he replies, genuinely.
“No problem,” he turns to his nephew, still drawing away, “come on, Dae, it’s time to get you home.”
“No!” Jongdae wails pitifully, pouting up at his uncle, and dejectedly clutching his marker. “I want to make more tattoos! Look, I made one like Uncle Fan!”
Jongdae excitedly points to one of the markings on Baekhyun’s bicep, which he thinks looks something like a scorpion.
“Oh, wow, Jongdae! That looks just like mine!” his uncle praises, inspecting the design.
Baekhyun gulps, because from his formal appearance, Baekhyun never expected him to be the type to have a tattoo. He stares at the man’s bicep, covered by his sleeve, wondering what exactly was underneath (assuming Jongdae’s representation was not fully accurate).
“Yup, I want to have ten… no, eleven tattoos when I’m a grown up. No more than eleven, though, because that’s too many,” Jongdae continues to explain, yet Baekhyun’s pretty sure his one arm must be sporting about fifteen.
“I’m Wu Yifan, by the way. I don’t think I got to introduce myself last time, sorry about that. If you’re wondering, since you said I could call you Baekhyun, you can call me Yifan,” the man, Yifan, decides to say as Jongdae continues to ramble about his new-found passion. Next week, he’ll probably want to be a cowboy or a zookeeper. Baekhyun loves five-year-olds.
“Aw,” he replies, “no Mr. Yifan?”
The man chuckles, showcasing his gummy smile, “well, Mr. Baekhyun if you insist…”
They both laugh, and Jongdae giggles, “can I be Mr. Jongdae?”
“Well… we’ll have to ask your mom about that one,” Yifan answers and Jongdae almost looks put out for a moment.
Baekhyun is suddenly reminded by the mention of Jongdae’s mother that there is something not quite right about the whole situation.
“Do you mind if I ask you a slightly personal question?”
“Uh… go ahead?” Yifan raises one of his bushy brows curiously.
“Well, I can’t help but notice that your name isn’t very Korean,” Baekhyun states. It’s not truly a question, but he doesn’t know how ask what he wants to know; he doesn’t want to accidentally offend Yifan or bring up sensitive material. He’s curious because last he checked both of Jongdae’s parents had Korean names, and Yifan seems to be an anomaly.
“Oh, that,” Yifan mutters thoughtfully, before elaborating, “when I was young, me and my mother-”
“-my mother and I… sorry, it’s a habit, please continue.”
“My mother and I moved to Korea from China when I was a kid, and she remarried here not long after. Jongdae’s mother is my step-sister, technically, and she’s over ten years older than myself. We’re decently close, her and I, but since I pass both the school and her family’s house on my way home I offer to pick up Jongdae sometimes. I used to pick him up from preschool, too. You’d be surprised, but he was actually quieter back then.”
They both turn to Jongdae, and Yifan groans at the sight, while Baekhyun can’t hold back a laugh. The kindergartener has attempted to colour the entirety of his forehead red with marker in apparent boredom. As his teacher, Baekhyun goes to get a cloth to wash off the red, but not before snapping a quick picture on his phone. He likes to make small photo albums for the parents at the end of the school year, and he thinks he already has the cover picture for Jongdae’s.
After giving Jongdae a good lather with a warm cloth, they both help gather all his things, while the child in question is set with the task of making sure every marker has the appropriately coloured cap.
“Sorry for being nosy, I can’t really help myself sometimes,” Baekhyun announces, brushing some of his frazzled, dyed hair out of his face. He’s never been able to mind his own business, and at the top of his head can name about ten separate incidents where his curiosity has gotten him in trouble.
“There’s nothing to apologize for, Baekhyun. Besides, it was nice to chat on an informal level for once.” Yifan is smiling and Baekhyun doesn’t know if he’ll even get over how that one action can change Yifan’s entire expression from ‘all-business’ to ‘suspiciously-cute’. Yifan, in his fancy dress, is like a diamond, and Baekhyun is a pebble that’s been kicked into his path, drowning in an embarrassingly oversized Supreme hoodie.
Jongdae wraps his small around Yifan’s thumb and they head to the door.
“Oh, I almost forgot. I was wondering… could I get your phone number, you know, so I can put you down as one of Jongdae’s contacts?”
“Oh, um, alright,” Yifan says, and after a moment he pulls something from his pocket, “the second number is mine.”
Baekhyun takes the piece of paper, and recognisesit as a business card. The gold lettering on the dark blue card reads ‘exo industries’, which Baekhyun has never heard of before. The logo incorporates a mannequin bust and it leads him to think it may have something to do with fashion. He types the phone number, next to WU YIFAN, into the notes of his phone and saves it.
When he looks up again Wu Yifan has already left, taking Jongdae with him, and Baekhyun makes to slump down in the chair at his desk. He dedicates the next ten minutes to gauge the reason why he feels strange after the encounter, but he doesn’t have long to think before he falls asleep sitting up.
***
“No… M comes before N…. don’t forget about Q.”
Baekhyun rubs his face against his pillows and tries to get more comfortable. Something had awoken him and now the irksome thing won’t let him go back to sleep. He’s thrown his covers off the bed already, but despite only in boxers and a t-shirt he feels overly warm. He flips the pillow, hoping that the cooler side of it will lull him back in to the land of dreams.
He still feels the strong sense of annoyance and he moans pitifully and curls into a ball. What could possibility be keeping him from a peaceful slumber at this hour…?
His eyes fly open.
The annoying rrrngrrrngrrrng of his alarm fills his bedroom.
Baekhyun flips over and checks the clock, cursing at the time. It’s 8AM and Baekhyun is late. Late to teach children and late to his job and late being a productive and responsible member of society.
He whisks his glasses off his nightstand, the thin frame ones with the circular lenses, because he has no time to bother with contacts. He rummages through his drawers in search of something to clothe his body with and finally closes the alarm on his phone. There’s three missed calls and two voice messages and Baekhyun completely ignores them while grabbing a water bottle and a baseball cap to hide his bedhead and he exits his apartment, a layer of sweat on his brow.
The last time Baekhyun was late it was because he’d somehow caught the flu from one of his students and he had forgotten to call in sick to the school. That time, however, the second he’d shown up, still in pajama pants and running an alarmingly high fever, Baekhyun had immediately been sent back home to rest.
This time he doesn’t have the same excuse, but he supposes the sweatpants he’d somehow manhandled up his legs were better than sleepwear. He looks more like a morning jogger than a teacher, much less one that has to educate impressionable, young children.
He dashes to the bus stop, and of course misses it by mere seconds. He curses his luck, and decides he might as well take advantage of his choice of sweat-wear and run to the school instead, because that will probably be faster than waiting for the next bus. The air is chilly enough that he shouldn’t be too sweaty.
He passes a car stopped at a red light, one of the ones that cost thrice Baekhyun’s yearly salary, and sulkily wishes he had that kind of transportation instead. He doesn’t even have his driver’s licence, and has nothing but public transit to rely on. He hopes the expensive car breaks down or something, serves them right for having more reliable transportation than Baekhyun.
Instead, after the light changes, the car pulls up beside him and Baekhyun stops, staring at the tinted windows in confusion. The windows of the sleek, white, SUV roll down, and Baekhyun immediately recognizes the driver inside.
He wishes the cracks of the sidewalk he’s standing on could open up and swallow him into the earth.
“Do you need a lift?” the driver asks, and Baekhyun is too stunned to do anything but nod his head dumbly.
He climbs into Wu Yifan’s car and has never felt so inadequate in his life. The inside of the car is incredibly sleek, complete with leather seats, and Baekhyun feels more like the few pieces of trash stuffed into the cup-holder than an actual passenger.
“So, where to?” Yifan asks, seemingly in high spirits. He has what Baekhyun is 99% sure Girl’s Generation playing from the car’s speaker system and Baekhyun would comment on his music taste if he weren’t almost an hour late to work and dressed like a track-and-field star, complete with his out of shape huffing and wheezing. Baekhyun wiggles his baseball cap lower to shadow his face.
“Uh, just up the road to, uh, the school. I kinda… slept through my alarm?” Baekhyun squeaks.
Yifan hums understandably and Baekhyun really, really, really wishes he had washed his face before leaving home.
The drive is very short, and less than six traffic lights since Baekhyun got on Yifan is pulling up to the front of the school to drop him off. Baekhyun has flashbacks to climbing out of his parents’ car to go to class as a young student himself, but he shakes those thoughts away.
“Thank you so much for the lift, I hope it wasn’t too out of your way,” Baekhyun quicklyexclaims, hoping his gratitude is apparent. He’s still late, but at least this way he isn’t at risk for an asthma attack.
“It’s no problem really, I told you already I pick up Jongdae because it’s on my way.” Yifan grins confidently from the driver’s seat and Baekhyun is suddenly a believer in spontaneous human combustion, because he body heats up unnaturally, particularly in his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “Oh, I almost forgot. Grab the bag in the back, will you?”
Baekhyun peers behind his seat and sees a tote bag sitting on the back seat. He grabs it and offers it to Yifan, “is it this?”
“Yeah. My friend Yixing slept over at my place a few weeks ago and I’ve been meaning to bring back the clothing he left over. You can borrow them, if you want, and just give them back to me another time or something. I figure they might be a little more presentable than… well…” he gestures to Baekhyun’s outfit, which if he’s honest with himself, probably isn’t that much better than pajamas. The shame is almost too much to endure.
“Thank you so much! Are you sure that it’s okay if I take your friend’s clothing?”
Yifan waves a hand dismissively, “knowing Yixing, he’s probably already forgotten that he left them behind in the first place.”
If it were socially acceptable to throw himself down to his knees and his Yifan’s feet in gratitude, he would, but instead settles for another jumbled string of ‘thank you’s.
“Well, Baekhyun, I have to get going. Have a good day!” Yifan says awkwardly, and Baekhyun remembers that he too is seriously late and should get to class.
“Right, Right. Bye, and thanks again,” Baekhyun calls and he takes the bag Yifan gave him and wonders how on earth he’s going to get himself out of trouble.
The first thing he does when he gets inside the elementary school building is run into the staff bathroom to change, hoping no one sees him until he looks somewhat more presentable. The clothing in the bag, a pair of navy slacks and a white button-up, is undoubtedly way nicer than anything he’s ever worn to work, which is a bit sad considering the outfit is still relatively casual compared to what Yifan had been wearing in the car. The pants are a bit loose, he has to admit, but overall it’s a success.
The moment he steps into his classroom he’s shoved back by none other than his friend and co-worker, Joonmyun, who teaches second grade. Joonmyun is frowning at him sternly, but Baekhyun has trouble taking anyone in a sweater vest seriously.
“You owe me at least three batches of your grandma’s famous cookies for covering for you. I told the principal that you had to leave to take an emergency call. Where the hell were you?” Joonmyun hisses. Baekhyun peeks inside his classroom to see his kids are currently invested in finger painting, probably Joonmyun’s idea to get back at him because Baekhyun hasn’t make kids touch paint since the Great Paint Episode of 2014-he still has nightmares about daffodil yellow splattering the walls.
“I’m so sorry, Joon, I overslept. I promise I’ll make it up to you,” Baekhyun apologizes.
“You better,” the shorter man scoffs, and heads back to his own classroom down the hall. Joonmyun might be passive aggressive, but there’s no denying he’s a lifesaver.
Baekhyun gets back into the groove of things, rounding up his kids and getting them ready for their morning snack. They apparently don’t seem to mind that he arrives much later than usual, and instead rush their cubbies to get their lunchboxes.
If he expected his day to get better from that point on, he was wrong. Jongin somehow spills his milk all over his pants and starts crying, and it takes Baekhyun a good fifteen minutes to console him. Minseok accidentally runs over Baekhyun’s foot with a surprisingly heavy toy dump truck-of course the kindergartener filled it up with all the wooden blocks. Zitao and Amber gang up to tease Kyungsoo, who throws a chair at them and Baekhyun’s life flashes before his eyes. He swears, in all his years, he’s never experienced a more stressful day. When nap time comes around, Baekhyun joins in, dozing on his desk hoping some sleep will undo the pain of that day. Thank god, he thinks as he rests his head in his hands, it’s Friday.
Even the worst day has to end, and the kids go home to their parents. Jongdae had cried a bit about not wanting to leave behind his impressive block tower, and Baekhyun had assured him he would see it again on Monday so that he would leave with his mother. No one is left, and Baekhyun exhales in relief. This will be his last free weekend before he has to write term evaluations, and he plans to fully make the most of it by doing nothing.
His lazy daydream is shattered by a knock at the door. He severely hopes its Joonmyun coming to reprimand him some more and not the principal. Baekhyun has always been terrible with figures of authority, although technically he is one.
Instead, it’s Yifan, looking impeccable and wearing the same thing as that morning, minus a jacket. Baekhyun wonders how he manages to keep his hair in place all day.
“Oh,” Baekhyun says, “Jongdae’s mother picked him up a couple minutes ago, there must have been a miscommunication…”
“Ah, no, I didn’t come for Jongdae…” Yifan shuffles his feet and bites his lip.
“No?” who else then?
“I came to see you, I…I hope that’s okay?” Yifan seems reserved.
Baekhyun doesn’t understand.
“Me?”
Yifan chuckles at Baekhyun’s confusion, and closes most of the distance between them with a few long strides, because he’s impossibly tall. Baekhyun feels miniscule under his gaze, noticing the intensity behind Yifan’s dark eyes. Baekhyun wants to break eye contact and turn away, but he can’t. He stares back and feels the hairs on the back of his neck prickling.
“Yes, you,” is the amused reply, “I got you something.”
Yifan shows Baekhyun whatever he has in his hand, and extends it out for him to take. Baekhyun grabs hold of the item and his lips twitch upwards as his eyes meet Yifan’s again. It’s an alarm clock. “I thought you might be in need of a better wake up call.”
Baekhyun presses a button and the screen flashes on revealing the time. He can’t hold back his smile any longer, his embarrassment from the morning having washed away.
“If it can get me up, I’m sure it will come in handy, thank you,” he replies, and puts the clock down on his desk.
“Just so you know,” Yifan starts, “there’s already an alarm set for tomorrow at 8PM.”
“Tomorrow?” Baekhyun questions, “but I’m not doing anything tomorrow.”
“Good, I had hoped you’d say that. Can I take you out tomorrow night, if you don’t mind? I know a good place to eat not too far from here.”
Baekhyun blinks, “Me?”
Yifan taps him on the nose with a long, slender finger, “haven’t we already established that I’m talking about you. Did you forget?” Yifan is smiling at him, showcasing gums and eyes crinkling. He looks far too handsome for his own good and Baekhyun can barely handle it. He covers his face with his hands as he processes Yifan’s request.
“O-Okay,” Baekhyun’s wobbly voice responds. Did someone crank up the heater? “You can…take me out.”
The pleased look on Yifan’s face is worth it, “great! You have my number, but give me yours. I’ll text you the details.”
They exchange contact information and Baekhyun tries to process how this is happening, after a miserable, long day. This was some turn around.
“Would you like a lift home?” the taller man offers.
“No, I’m fine.” Baekhyun could really use the cool wind outside to lower his temperature, that and the fact that Yifan’s presence is a tad overwhelming.
“See you tomorrow?” he looks hopeful and not for the first time Baekhyun finds the other man to be cute. People say Baekhyun is cute because he’s small, with round cheeks and tiny mouth, but Yifan is his own cute…a tall, slightly awkward cute.
Baekhyun grabs hold of himself and remembers who he is. He winks with a smirk, “It’s a date.” Baekhyun isn’t the only one who can be smooth.
On the bus ride home Baekhyun contemplates the ethics of going out with Yifan. He’s sure there must be some unwritten rule not to go on dates with student’s parents-imagine being the homewrecker- but he’s not sure the same applies for step-uncles. He concludes by deciding that he does not care, he likes Yifan.
***
Baekhyun has worn lots of different things on dates. He’s worn snapbacks, ripped jeans, flannel shirts, sweatshirts, more ripped jeans, beanies, and even a tuxedo for his brother’s wedding. He does not know, however, how to dress himself for someone who wears designer everything and watches that are probably worth more than Baekhyun’s entire wardrobe.
He debates calling Chanyeol for help, but he recalls his friend has basically been living in the same hoodie for the past four years, and would probably suggest something like ‘show up naked, it’ll catch him off guard’. Baekhyun will have to do without aid.
He finds a pair of dark wash jeans that are miraculously without any tears, and matches them with a neutral, dark sweater. It takes him thirty minutes to clean the dirt from his shoes so that they look presentably, but by the time Baekhyun looks acceptable, it’s nearly 8PM.
He isn’t expecting Yifan to ring the doorbell, but when he does Baekhyun runs to answer it, fixing his hair to make sure the strands are all in place. Yifan looks far too attractive for his own good, and his cheeks are tinged red from the wind.
“Here, I got you these,” the taller man says, holding up a bouquet of flowers to Baekhyun’s nose.
“Flowers?” Baekhyun gasps, because when was the last time someone ever bought him flowers? Never? He accepts the bouquet, “thank you.” They smell wonderful, but he hurriedly places them in a vase in case they tickle his nose and make him sneeze.
“Shall we go?” Yifan asks, like a true gentleman.
Baekhyun nods his head, “yes, I’d say the alarm should go off any minute now.”
Yifan, Baekhyun learns, is not a perfect gentleman, but he’s not far off.
Yifan takes him out to dinner, at a relatively high-end place. Baekhyun wolf whistles as they take their seats, causing their waiter to raise a brow. Yifan squints his eyes at him, but Baekhyun can tell he’s amused.
Yifan offers to pay before they even order, but Baekhyun retaliates by pointing out that Yifan already bought him an alarm clock and flowers.
“I know you rich type like to throw money at all your problems, but I’m an employed individual and I can pay for my own hamburger steak, thank you very much,” Baekhyun states.
“Rich type?” Yifan frowns.
“Yeah, you know, all fancy and,” Baekhyun gestures to Yifan, “all like this.”
Yifan pouts, “Is that supposed to be an insult? I’ll have you know I been working full-time towards my career since age eighteen. Forgive me for enjoying the fruits of my labour.”
“Eighteen?” Baekhyun tries not to sound shocked, “what about school?”
“My family was not always privileged when I was younger, so there wasn’t much emphasis on school. I did take some night classes in my early twenties, though. I kind of lost interest when I discovered I could do well without them. I might go back, someday, if you were my teacher…” he wags his eyebrows suggestively and Baekhyun kicks him lightly under the table.
“I’m pretty sure you already know your ABCs, but I’d be happy to go over the basics if you still need help,” Baekhyun replies, smirking, and Yifan simply laughs. The waiter comes not long afterwards to take their order.
The rest of the evening goes by similarly, with Baekhyun teasing his date but by the same token learning little bits and pieces of him. He laughs inappropriately loud when Yifan tells the story of when he first got to hold baby Jongdae, panicked, and almost dropped him, that a couple at the table next to them shushes him. Baekhyun doesn’t care too much about being impolite, after all he’s mostly exposed to the manners-or lack thereof-of five-year-olds, who still think eating rice with their fingers is totally fine and not at all disgusting.
Yifan drives him home after their date and walks him to his apartment. Baekhyun had originally planned not to go out all weekend and keep to himself, but he enjoyed the evening. He enjoys Yifan’s company, and is almost sad the night has to end.
“Thank you for coming out with me tonight, Baekhyun,” his date says, looking particularly handsome in the dimly lit hallway.
“My pleasure,” he responds, leaning back against his door. He wishes that in this moment time could pass a bit slower, and maybe it does.
After eternity, Yifan leans down to press his lips to Baekhyun’s in a gentle kiss. Baekhyun notes that his lips are softer than expected, and he tilts his head to get a better angle.
Baekhyun’s heart beats wildly in his chest, and when they pull away, he wishes he could keep the smile off his face, but it’s impossible. Yifan seems to be the same way, and they part, each radiating happiness.
When Baekhyun steps into his apartment, he’s greeted with the obnoxious sound of an alarm going off from his bedroom.
***
It’s been over a month since they made things official, and yet Yifan is no less extravagant.
Baekhyun is having his kids count by threes and fives and tens using little plastic chips when Joonmyun knocks at his door.
“Hello, special delivery~” the other teacher cries, and Baekhyun looks up to see him holding an enormous bouquet of different coloured roses inside of a basket.
“What’s that?” Baekhyun inquires, and he and his other twelve pairs of eyes are focussed on what Joonmyun’s holding.
“Something for Teacher Appreciation Week, I believe. Whoever sent you this really went all out, I’m a bit jealous,” Joonmyun remarks, and he walks over to put the basket on Baekhyun’s desk, next to the #1 Teacher mug Zitao had gifted him with earlier that week.
Baekhyun approaches to inspect the gift, and notices a card placed with the flowers.
In gold lettering, it reads: For Mr. Baekhyun, from WYF. P.S. see you at 9, tonight?
Baekhyun’s lips curl up as he reads. This time, it’s not Jongdae that Yifan’s picking up after school. Thank god it’s Friday.