bulletproof heart / hollow-point smile [three drabbles]
baekris, 400/500/700wds, pg-13
A/N: in which wu yifan is part of a triad family and will probably run the seoul branch when he's of age, and baek is the cute graphic designer he meets at the publishing house where he met a guy who's gonna counterfeit for him. part of a much longer fic i will probably never finish, but i'll give you guys some scenes.
these are random drabbles from the verse, in no particular order.
“I wasn’t really hungry, you know,” Baekhyun says, smiling at Yifan from under his eyelashes, accepting the potato coil with a delicate grip. “I just wanted to see if you liked me enough to buy it for me.”
“Two things,” Yifan says, lifting an inconspicuous hand around the back of Baekhyun’s tiny neck. “One: I have enough money that what I’m willing to buy anyone is no measure of how much I like them. Two: I like you a lot.”
Baekhyun laughs, eyes crinkling, and Yifan laughs with him, eyes following suit.
“Then fuck this,” Baekhyun says challengingly, mischief all over his face as he ducks some passing strangers in the crowd and tosses the coil at a mound of garbage on the corner.
Yifan cackles, eyes lit up. “Okay, let me buy you something better.”
“Like?” Baekhyun asks, clapping his hands once and bounding in so he bumps against Yifan’ chest, hands tucked in cute fists between them. Yifan wants to wrap his arms around him, but. You know. Public.
Yifan shrugs. “Anything you want,” he says, gesturing down the Myeongdong street.
Baekhyun follows his gaze, then turns back to look up at him skeptically.
“I don’t think you’re taking into account how much shopping I can do in a day if I’m unrestrained,” Baek cackles, but he’s not turning him down. Good. Yifan wants this. He wants to watch Baek try on jeans, pull out his credit card, carry the bags for him, be his boyfriend. He wants to watch Baek’s eyes sparkle when he catches sight of a really nice sweater or pair of shoes. He wants Baek to ask him what he thinks of everything he holds up, and have Baek throw away anything he doesn’t approve of.
“Byun Baekhyun,” Yifan continues firmly, hand rubbing up to cradle the back of Baek’s head in a way that was bordering on scandalous for their public audience but not quite unsafe. “Buy. Whatever. You want.”
Baekhyun’s cautious assessment of Yifan’s face and body language melts, after a moment, into a precious eyesmile. “Hyung!” He laughs, slapping Yifan’s chest and clapping his hands again. “You’re too much. Okay, stop me when I spend too much. Can we get coffee first? At Angel-In-Us?”
Yifan’s hand moves to the small of Baek’s back as he leads the way.
+
+
There’s half a cup of coffee growing cold on Baekhyun’s desk and two thirds of his microwavable lunch still beside him, which means it must be around 1:30pm and barelypast lunch break when Baekhyun’s boss’ silhouette appears through the glass door that separates the office for him and three coworkers from the rest of the floor. He, along with his coworkers, stand and bow briefly.
“Byun Baekhyun-sshi,” Sanghoon says, his voice gruff and formal, more so than usual. “Step outside with me, please.”
Baekhyun bows again and follows as his coworkers sit, grabbing his coffee as he leaves his desk. Sanghoon leads him to his office, where Baekhyun bows again as he’s waved towards a chair. “This is brief,” Sanghoon assures him, taking a seat himself.
“Oh?” Baekhyun answers, waiting with an open expression.
“We have a mutual friend, yes?” Sanghoon says, nodding and resting his hands on the arms of his office chair. “Who we have both been employed by in the past. A man… with powerful connections.”
Baekhyun stares at him blankly.
Oh, wait- he’d met Yifan at work the day he’d been in to talk with someone at the publishing office about printing all that counterfeit cash. Baekhyun never thought about who it had been; he supposes it was his boss. But he’s never been employed by Yifan himself, so-
“I’m mot sure-“ he starts, but Sanghoon cuts him off.
“It’s alright. This friend has explained your previous work for him to me in the level of detail which it is appropriate for me to know. And he called today to ask if he could borrow you to employ you on a trip to Osaka, beginning immediately.”
“He did?” Bakehyun says, sitting up. “Really?”
“Very respectfully, he wanted to speak to me before proposing the trip to you. I still expect you to finish the Before Your Time designs by Friday, but your other assignments can wait. You’ll leave immediately to board your plane with him this afternoon, and I’ll expect you back in the office on Monday.”
“…He wants me to what?” Baekhyun says, feeling kind of spacey. A trip? To Osaka? It’s only Monday today. He’s not due back to work for a week?
“And he asked that you call him to confirm right away,” Sanghoon says gruffly, the tone he takes with difficult or new clients. It’s all very formal. Baekhyun thinks, well, as far as he knows we’re both employed by a Triad, so discretion and formality is expected.
“I… will do that right away, sir.” He bows again.
“Excellent,” Sanghoon replies, and with a dismissive wave of his hand, Baekhyun is queued to rise. He dips once more as he leaves the office and is digging his cell phone out of his pocket before he even makes it back to his cubicle.
“Hey, baby,” Yifan says jovially, and Baekhyun stammers into the phone.
“My boss just- A trip- you’re employing me-?”
Yifan laughs. “No, idiot. I have to get out of the country for a few days and I wanted to take you with me, so I told him you’ll be forging some documents for me in Japan. Doesn’t have to actually be Japan, though. Where would you prefer? Hong Kong? Jakarta? Singapore?”
Baekhyun leans back against a wall. “What?”
“I need an alibi,” Yifan says, and Baekhyun can hear the smile in his voice. “And you need a vacation.”
Baekhyun smiles, and he can feel himself slipping into his flirty kind of posture, one hip cocked, right there in the hallway. He pulls himself out of it but grins over the half-dividers that hack the space up into cubicles, the tops of his coworkers heads.
He lifts a hand to his mouth to cover it as he whispers “Gege,” adoringly into the mouthpiece. Yifan chuckles on the other side, drawing it out into a sigh.
They’re silent for a moment, hearing each other breathe. For a moment, Baekhyun’s office doesn’t feel so dull.
“I’m sending Chanyeol to pick you up, while I take care of some things, okay?” Yifan offers, and Baekhyun laughs incredulously into his phone.
Okay. He could use a vacation.
+
+
Yifan comes home to Baekhyun’s scarf and coat still on the rack by the door, his shoes still piled on the low shelf. He smiles to himself as he toes his shoes off, imagining what pleasures might be waiting for him this time.
“I’m home,” he calls, unwinding his scarf and stepping into his house slippers.
“Office,” answers a happy-sounding voice from two rooms away. Yifan follows it, bag in hand, pulling a day’s worth of crap from his pockets as he heads towards Baekhyun.
…Who is in a t-shirt, on his laptop at the desk, leaning back and scrolling with two fingers on the trackpad.
“What? No Midori sour?” Yifan jokes, stepping around behind Baekhyun and kissing him on the top of the head. Baek has had a fantasy of greeting him when he comes back from work in a bathrobe and a drink in his hand for a while, and finally realized it the other day. Yifan had found him dripping with cool silk and dropping ice cubes into the green cocktails, a predatory smile on his face that was visible despite his cooing, cawing insistence on pampering Yifan.
“I’m working,” Baekhyun says, turning halfway around to grab at Yifan’s tie. Yifan bends again, following Baek’s tug.
“That’s Twitter,” Yifan laughs, but indulgently pecks him on the lips anyway. “Hah. Is that Sehun? He changed his DP?”
“It’s not Twitter!” Baek insists, clicking his obviously Twitter window aside to reveal a book cover in progress open in Photoshop. He makes big I’m-making-a-point eyes at Yifan. “I don’t have the blurb on my computer yet so I can't finish now.”
“They didn’t send it to you?”
Baekhyun laughs. “Um, actually it’s in my email and I’m just too lazy to get it out. But I only have like twenty minutes of work left.”
Yifan’s face splits into a goofy grin.
“What?” Baek asks, twirling Yifan’s tie around his finger.
Yifan smiles. “How about I make us some Midori sours, and when you finish your twenty minutes, I’ll repay you for the other day?”
Baekhyun bites his lip and wiggles his eyebrows.
“Work, you lazy boy,” Yifan mumbles affectionately, giving him one last kiss before manually turning Baekhyun’s chair towards the desk.
“Yessir,” Baek answers, suddenly incentivized. Yifan pulls accumulated trash rom his pockets and dumps it in the can by the desk, watching long enough to see Baek pull his email up, and then goes to the kitchen to pull the liquor from the freezer.
Two cocktails later, he slides back into the office with a grin on his face, and is met with a matching grin on Baekhyun’s.
“You look so excited,” Baek laughs, holding both hands out to accept his glass. “It’s cute.”
“Mm,” Yifan answers non-commitally, and sips his drink. He mixed them strong. Setting his glass down on the endpiece by the sofa, he unbuttons and strips his shirt and undershirt over his head, laying back and reaching behind his head to retrieve his drink.
“That’s not fair,” Baekhyun says, clapping his hands to the desk with a delighted laugh. “How am I supposed to concentrate?”
“Life’s not fair,” Yifan agrees, and circles a finger around his nipple. “Drink. Work.”
Baekhyun huffs and lets it trail off into a whine, but turns back into his laptop mid-way.
He finishes in fifteen minutes instead of twenty, sprinting to straddle Yifan’s waist and dipping as spine as he grips Yifan’s face and bends into a lusty kiss.
+
(comments encourage me to keep writing!)
A/N: in which wu yifan is part of a triad family and will probably run the seoul branch when he's of age, and baek is the cute graphic designer he meets at the publishing house where he met a guy who's gonna counterfeit for him. part of a much longer fic i will probably never finish, but i'll give you guys some scenes.
these are random drabbles from the verse, in no particular order.
“I wasn’t really hungry, you know,” Baekhyun says, smiling at Yifan from under his eyelashes, accepting the potato coil with a delicate grip. “I just wanted to see if you liked me enough to buy it for me.”
“Two things,” Yifan says, lifting an inconspicuous hand around the back of Baekhyun’s tiny neck. “One: I have enough money that what I’m willing to buy anyone is no measure of how much I like them. Two: I like you a lot.”
Baekhyun laughs, eyes crinkling, and Yifan laughs with him, eyes following suit.
“Then fuck this,” Baekhyun says challengingly, mischief all over his face as he ducks some passing strangers in the crowd and tosses the coil at a mound of garbage on the corner.
Yifan cackles, eyes lit up. “Okay, let me buy you something better.”
“Like?” Baekhyun asks, clapping his hands once and bounding in so he bumps against Yifan’ chest, hands tucked in cute fists between them. Yifan wants to wrap his arms around him, but. You know. Public.
Yifan shrugs. “Anything you want,” he says, gesturing down the Myeongdong street.
Baekhyun follows his gaze, then turns back to look up at him skeptically.
“I don’t think you’re taking into account how much shopping I can do in a day if I’m unrestrained,” Baek cackles, but he’s not turning him down. Good. Yifan wants this. He wants to watch Baek try on jeans, pull out his credit card, carry the bags for him, be his boyfriend. He wants to watch Baek’s eyes sparkle when he catches sight of a really nice sweater or pair of shoes. He wants Baek to ask him what he thinks of everything he holds up, and have Baek throw away anything he doesn’t approve of.
“Byun Baekhyun,” Yifan continues firmly, hand rubbing up to cradle the back of Baek’s head in a way that was bordering on scandalous for their public audience but not quite unsafe. “Buy. Whatever. You want.”
Baekhyun’s cautious assessment of Yifan’s face and body language melts, after a moment, into a precious eyesmile. “Hyung!” He laughs, slapping Yifan’s chest and clapping his hands again. “You’re too much. Okay, stop me when I spend too much. Can we get coffee first? At Angel-In-Us?”
Yifan’s hand moves to the small of Baek’s back as he leads the way.
+
+
There’s half a cup of coffee growing cold on Baekhyun’s desk and two thirds of his microwavable lunch still beside him, which means it must be around 1:30pm and barelypast lunch break when Baekhyun’s boss’ silhouette appears through the glass door that separates the office for him and three coworkers from the rest of the floor. He, along with his coworkers, stand and bow briefly.
“Byun Baekhyun-sshi,” Sanghoon says, his voice gruff and formal, more so than usual. “Step outside with me, please.”
Baekhyun bows again and follows as his coworkers sit, grabbing his coffee as he leaves his desk. Sanghoon leads him to his office, where Baekhyun bows again as he’s waved towards a chair. “This is brief,” Sanghoon assures him, taking a seat himself.
“Oh?” Baekhyun answers, waiting with an open expression.
“We have a mutual friend, yes?” Sanghoon says, nodding and resting his hands on the arms of his office chair. “Who we have both been employed by in the past. A man… with powerful connections.”
Baekhyun stares at him blankly.
Oh, wait- he’d met Yifan at work the day he’d been in to talk with someone at the publishing office about printing all that counterfeit cash. Baekhyun never thought about who it had been; he supposes it was his boss. But he’s never been employed by Yifan himself, so-
“I’m mot sure-“ he starts, but Sanghoon cuts him off.
“It’s alright. This friend has explained your previous work for him to me in the level of detail which it is appropriate for me to know. And he called today to ask if he could borrow you to employ you on a trip to Osaka, beginning immediately.”
“He did?” Bakehyun says, sitting up. “Really?”
“Very respectfully, he wanted to speak to me before proposing the trip to you. I still expect you to finish the Before Your Time designs by Friday, but your other assignments can wait. You’ll leave immediately to board your plane with him this afternoon, and I’ll expect you back in the office on Monday.”
“…He wants me to what?” Baekhyun says, feeling kind of spacey. A trip? To Osaka? It’s only Monday today. He’s not due back to work for a week?
“And he asked that you call him to confirm right away,” Sanghoon says gruffly, the tone he takes with difficult or new clients. It’s all very formal. Baekhyun thinks, well, as far as he knows we’re both employed by a Triad, so discretion and formality is expected.
“I… will do that right away, sir.” He bows again.
“Excellent,” Sanghoon replies, and with a dismissive wave of his hand, Baekhyun is queued to rise. He dips once more as he leaves the office and is digging his cell phone out of his pocket before he even makes it back to his cubicle.
“Hey, baby,” Yifan says jovially, and Baekhyun stammers into the phone.
“My boss just- A trip- you’re employing me-?”
Yifan laughs. “No, idiot. I have to get out of the country for a few days and I wanted to take you with me, so I told him you’ll be forging some documents for me in Japan. Doesn’t have to actually be Japan, though. Where would you prefer? Hong Kong? Jakarta? Singapore?”
Baekhyun leans back against a wall. “What?”
“I need an alibi,” Yifan says, and Baekhyun can hear the smile in his voice. “And you need a vacation.”
Baekhyun smiles, and he can feel himself slipping into his flirty kind of posture, one hip cocked, right there in the hallway. He pulls himself out of it but grins over the half-dividers that hack the space up into cubicles, the tops of his coworkers heads.
He lifts a hand to his mouth to cover it as he whispers “Gege,” adoringly into the mouthpiece. Yifan chuckles on the other side, drawing it out into a sigh.
They’re silent for a moment, hearing each other breathe. For a moment, Baekhyun’s office doesn’t feel so dull.
“I’m sending Chanyeol to pick you up, while I take care of some things, okay?” Yifan offers, and Baekhyun laughs incredulously into his phone.
Okay. He could use a vacation.
+
+
Yifan comes home to Baekhyun’s scarf and coat still on the rack by the door, his shoes still piled on the low shelf. He smiles to himself as he toes his shoes off, imagining what pleasures might be waiting for him this time.
“I’m home,” he calls, unwinding his scarf and stepping into his house slippers.
“Office,” answers a happy-sounding voice from two rooms away. Yifan follows it, bag in hand, pulling a day’s worth of crap from his pockets as he heads towards Baekhyun.
…Who is in a t-shirt, on his laptop at the desk, leaning back and scrolling with two fingers on the trackpad.
“What? No Midori sour?” Yifan jokes, stepping around behind Baekhyun and kissing him on the top of the head. Baek has had a fantasy of greeting him when he comes back from work in a bathrobe and a drink in his hand for a while, and finally realized it the other day. Yifan had found him dripping with cool silk and dropping ice cubes into the green cocktails, a predatory smile on his face that was visible despite his cooing, cawing insistence on pampering Yifan.
“I’m working,” Baekhyun says, turning halfway around to grab at Yifan’s tie. Yifan bends again, following Baek’s tug.
“That’s Twitter,” Yifan laughs, but indulgently pecks him on the lips anyway. “Hah. Is that Sehun? He changed his DP?”
“It’s not Twitter!” Baek insists, clicking his obviously Twitter window aside to reveal a book cover in progress open in Photoshop. He makes big I’m-making-a-point eyes at Yifan. “I don’t have the blurb on my computer yet so I can't finish now.”
“They didn’t send it to you?”
Baekhyun laughs. “Um, actually it’s in my email and I’m just too lazy to get it out. But I only have like twenty minutes of work left.”
Yifan’s face splits into a goofy grin.
“What?” Baek asks, twirling Yifan’s tie around his finger.
Yifan smiles. “How about I make us some Midori sours, and when you finish your twenty minutes, I’ll repay you for the other day?”
Baekhyun bites his lip and wiggles his eyebrows.
“Work, you lazy boy,” Yifan mumbles affectionately, giving him one last kiss before manually turning Baekhyun’s chair towards the desk.
“Yessir,” Baek answers, suddenly incentivized. Yifan pulls accumulated trash rom his pockets and dumps it in the can by the desk, watching long enough to see Baek pull his email up, and then goes to the kitchen to pull the liquor from the freezer.
Two cocktails later, he slides back into the office with a grin on his face, and is met with a matching grin on Baekhyun’s.
“You look so excited,” Baek laughs, holding both hands out to accept his glass. “It’s cute.”
“Mm,” Yifan answers non-commitally, and sips his drink. He mixed them strong. Setting his glass down on the endpiece by the sofa, he unbuttons and strips his shirt and undershirt over his head, laying back and reaching behind his head to retrieve his drink.
“That’s not fair,” Baekhyun says, clapping his hands to the desk with a delighted laugh. “How am I supposed to concentrate?”
“Life’s not fair,” Yifan agrees, and circles a finger around his nipple. “Drink. Work.”
Baekhyun huffs and lets it trail off into a whine, but turns back into his laptop mid-way.
He finishes in fifteen minutes instead of twenty, sprinting to straddle Yifan’s waist and dipping as spine as he grips Yifan’s face and bends into a lusty kiss.
+
(comments encourage me to keep writing!)