confidence man; for fishonthemoon
Title: confidence man
Rating: PG-13 (mentions of sex/sexual situations)
Side pairing/s: mentions of past baekhyun/yixing
Length: 5, 552 words
Summary: Confidence Man: A Series of Vignettes by Jongin Kim, also known as, falling in love with Baekhyun, also known as, Baekhyun cons people for a living and Jongin is okay with that.
Warning/s: doesn't follow a linear structure. The first and last scenes go together directly, however.
Notes: plotless, pornless, pointless. I didn't do your prompt justice but I hope you still like it, dear recipient.
Jongin drove ten miles south, looking for God. Well, a church, at least. He passed three churches before he pulled into the fourth -empty and desperate looking.
He sat at the pew furthest from the altar. It wasn't a Catholic church, but God was God and crimes were sin. He had no idea how long he sat there, staring at the golden letters of Holy Bible and feeling his palms sweat in his clenched fists.
"What should I start with?" he asked aloud to no one in particular, but God, probably. A soft pair of footsteps, purposeful and rhythmic, came from behind. Jongin closed his eyes, listened to his eminent doom.
"I don't know, maybe something like, forgive me Lord and Savior the almighty and powerful magnificent God. I am a sinner, strike me down where I stand!"
It hadn't become ironic until the minute he looked up, saw Baekhyun standing there with a halo of light surrounding him -straight white teeth gleaming spectacularly, small hands raised out in a gesture of trustworthiness.
Are you Satan? Jongin wanted to ask. Because Lucifer was an angel once. God's favorite, even. But instead he sagged forward until his elbows clanked against the tops of his knees, rested his head in his hands, and said, "Why did you follow me?"
Baekhyun laughed, but it was muffled by the sound of Jongin's heartbeat in his ears.
"It wasn't hard finding you," he said, like this was all another game, and Jongin was the objective.
"It's like you left me clues."
"That doesn't answer my question," said Jongin, quietly. It'd be easier if Baekhyun could really read minds, like he claims he can when he's conning unsuspecting civilians on the street. "You don't do things just because you can. You're motivated by benefits. I don't benefit you anymore."
There was a pause -a moment of great silence that almost had Jongin convinced that Baekhyun being there was a figment of his imagination.
"I dunno, 'cause I love you or something," Baekhyun said then, shrugging like he wasn't sure. A fifty-fifty chance that after all the shit that happened in the past few months, that maybe, he loved Jongin. But Baekhyun is sure about everything, with statistical precision.
"And I need you, too. It may not seem like it, but..." he trailed off, leaving Jongin to contemplate the missing words.
Jongin instinctively knew to fear a lot of things and learned to fear others. Death was one of the things he learned not to fear. Death was the ultimate end, the ultimate nothingness. It was all the living before death that was frightening. You lived and you were lied to. You lived and you loved someone. You lived and pain and suffering and grief and lust and sin. Hatred, you lived with hatred -for something or someone.
Jongin was in love with Baekhyun. He knows he should have been afraid of that, instinctively, like how people fear snakes or heights. But he wasn't afraid.
How easily he could say with the utmost sincerity that he was in love with Baekhyun.
He wasn't afraid.
***
Jongin shivered, pulling on the lapels of his coat. The fabric was warm, and smelled roughly like every restaurant he'd ever eaten in, the past few months, and a little of Kyungsoo's cigarettes. His tie was crooked, like it was most of the time someone wasn't there to straighten it. He left work at seven on the dot and carried himself to his car in a slow motioned haze that only served to remind him how cold the world had the potential to be.
He coughed a visible breath into the air and winced at the sound. He was thinking about stopping for something to drink, and the weather only cemented the urge.
The streets were nearly clear of traffic, and the ground glistened with salt and the lightest sheet of snow.
There was a place not too far from where he worked called K&M. He never found time to go during their normal hours, and was hesitant to visit during their extended hours. The weather erased the uncertainty, and compelled him to turn his car around in the opposite direction.
There were three levels of K&M: the bookstore on the first floor, the café on the second, and the jazz lounge on the third. It was designed to resemble the architecture of the French Quarter in New Orleans, and attracted a wide variety of customers.
Jongin parked along a side street within quick walking distance to the entrance. A couple wearing matching coats and hats kissed passionately as they waited for the pedestrian signal to turn green.
Jongin looked away, further down the street, ignoring the burn of his chest. There was a man standing under the streetlight, head tipped towards the sky and mouth blowing out wisps of smoke. He had dark hair and pale skin. He wasn't wearing a coat.
Jongin couldn't help but stare. Wasn't the stranger cold?
The light at the crosswalk changed and the couple ahead of him began to cross. Jongin followed, chancing surreptitious glances at the man under the streetlight.
His slight body was bathed in the eerie fluorescent light, and it reminded Jongin of a sci-fi movie.
Any second now, and someone would take him, Jongin thought suddenly.
He was jolted from his thoughts as he accidentally bumped into a parking meter. The man looked up at him then, flashing a sly grin, as if he knew that Jongin was going to bump into it at that exact moment.
He flushed in embarrassment, watching the laughter bloom across the stranger's face.
"This is usually when I make a narcissistic joke," the man said, walking forward until he was only an arm's distance away from Jongin, "but that looked like it really hurt."
His voice was slightly raspy from the cold, and deeper than Jongin expected from someone with such a youthful face.
Jongin smiled sheepishly. "I'm fine. I just wasn't watching where I was going."
"I know. You were too busy checking me out. It's okay though. You're pretty good looking yourself."
Jongin's ears burned and he felt hot enough to shed his scarf.
"Aww, you're shy. That's cute."
Jongin couldn't say a word in response, even if he tried. The man ended each sentence with another -words following his train of thought rather than the structure of a two-sided conversation.
"You look like you need company. How about I make sure you don't run into any other immobile objects?" He moved to stand flush against Jongin, bringing with him the smell of clove and honey.
"Uh, I'm-"
"Hey, guess my name."
Jongin blinked, taken by surprise by the swift change of subject. The man had small eyes trained on his face excitedly, like a child opening presents on Christmas. They were standing less than five feet from the doors of K&M, but Jongin didn't feel as urgent to escape the cold as he was a few minutes earlier.
"Excuse-"
"What do you think my name is? Huh? Do I look like a Steven? My friend says I look like a Steven."
"I can't tell. You just look like...you."
"I bet your name is ordinary. What's an Asian John Doe? John Kim? You look like a John Kim."
"Jongin, actually."
"Ah, Jongin Kim? I bet you're rich. Probably coming back from a boring, endless job at some high rise downtown. Business or business law. You a lawyer?"
"Uh, no, I'm a financial analyst for my company's law firm."
"See, what did I tell you? Rich and boring. No offense, Jongin Kim."
"None taken?"
The stranger laughed, a full body laugh that had Jongin resisting the pull of his own mouth upwards and across his face.
"So, what is your name?"
"Aw, that's no fun. How can I tell you my name so easily? We've only just met!"
Jongin, speechless and shivering on the sidewalk, watched as the man turned in a circle, spinning on his heels. Jongin wanted to call after him, ask him to stay longer, talk more. Instead, he watched the retreating silhouette and wondered if they would ever meet again.
***
What did you do, Baekhyun? Where are you? Are you okay?
The many questions Jongin failed to ask as he got a mysterious message from Baekhyun early in the day.
look under your bed, the text read. Baekhyun rarely texted so straightforwardly. Jongin was used to pictures of different places captioned with, come find me! I'm waiting.
Jongin looked under his bed, as instructed. Besides dust and the small safe he kept a handgun in-he couldn't find anything. He checked the safe anyway, and wasn't surprised to find a green sticky note with Baekhyun's small, slanted handwriting on it.
if you're reading this right now, that means (a) you're about to kill someone, or (b) i'm in trouble. there's an address in your ancient rolodex. follow the instructions on that.
Jongin didn't wonder how Baekhyun knew the combination to his safe, he didn't wonder when Baekhyun found the time to plan this information, and he didn't wonder why Zitao wasn't the first person he called.
2000 Beech St. ask for dobby the house elf. tell him I'm digging holes for the warden.
Jongin frowned, turning the sheet over and over until he came to the conclusion that he would never understand the meaning behind the message without an explanation from Baekhyun himself.
He rushed to his car, inputting the address into his GPS. It was an empty warehouse, according to his GPS, but he sped there anyway.
The twenty minute drive only served to make him more anxious. A small part of him anticipated running into issues chasing around someone as wild as Baekhyun.
But when he thought about the alternatives -it all seemed worth it in the end.
***
The warehouse was registered as empty to anyone that didn't have instructions to meet someone there. Jongin paced back and forth, standing at two industrial steel doors chained with locks that even Baekhyun couldn't get past.
He didn't know if knocking was the best option or tossing something at the windows on the second floor.
"Hey," a voice called from behind. Jongin turned around, spotting a police officer. "You aren't allowed to be up here."
Jongin weighed the options of telling the truth or making up something on the spot. "My friend wants me to meet someone here."
"Well, what friend would send you out to an empty warehouse?"
"My friend is a little unorthodox. All I know is that I'm supposed to be meeting a guy he calls Dobby the house elf."
The officer's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "You're not a cop?" he asked, inspecting Jongin from head to toe. "Well shite. Bee sent you here, then."
A small part of Jongin wanted to laugh. Between the large eyes, protruding ears, thin frame, and the English accent -he understood where the nickname came from.
The man removed his uniform, which turned out to be nothing more than a costume, revealing a red and blue Spiderman t-shirt underneath.
"Who are you, exactly? I don't mean to offend you, mate, but you look like a pencil pusher."
"None taken. I, uh," Jongin started to explain, but came up short on how exactly to explain. Baekhyun wasn't really his friend, by normal definitions, and although Jongin was incredibly infatuated, they wouldn't be considered dating -not exactly, anyway.
"Oh, I got it. You two are shagging. That explains why he sent you instead of his dog."
"But Baekhyun doesn't have a dog."
"Oh, you haven't met Zitao?" The man laughed, at his own joke nonetheless, and Jongin wasn't surprised that this was the person Baekhyun made sure he would meet.
Jongin cracked a small smile, finding it hard not to. "He wanted me to tell you that he was digging holes for the warden. I have no idea what that means, but I'm sure you do."
"Bloody hell, he's done something stupid. Here, follow me."
Jongin obeyed without hesitation. The warehouse only appeared abandoned. The inside was fully furnished and seemed to be both a workplace and a living space.
There were giant posters of comic book characters and half-naked women lining the walls, presumably to cover the horrible paint job. There was a computer station big enough to be considered a lab in the center of the room, and an L shaped couch in the far right corner. He couldn't tell what was on the upper level from where he stood, but he guessed there were more personal items.
"Fan-fucking-tastic. I haven't spoken to the bloke in nearly half a year and this is how he gets in touch? Typical day typical shoddy best friend." He fiddled with some of his computers, typing faster than Jongin thought possible. "Good thing I'm perfect at my job or else he'd be arse over tit in a ditch somewhere in Kansas." He sighed, then seemed like he just remembered something. "Oh, by the way, I'm Chanyeol."
"I'm Jongin." He paused, listening to the echo of Chanyeol's typing. "So, how do you know Baekhyun?" Jongin wasn't a master of small talk, but he couldn't just stand there without saying anything at all.
"Long story. Bee will tell you if you stick around long enough."
"I guess you're right. It's only been four months. I don't expect to meet his entire list of...contacts."
"Holy shite mate. Four months in Baekhyun's world is a fucking long time. Not unless he's trying to steal your fortune. But Bee doesn't need to fuck a bod for four months to get his money."
"He hasn't tried anything like that since I've known him. Must be time for retirement."
The sound of the keyboard stopped suddenly and Jongin shrunk back from the stare that was directed at him.
"Retirement? From the job? Bee has been doing this since he was a kid. He'd never...wait. Oh. Oh. Christ in the closet. He likes you. God, this is hilarious. He's actually being a decent human because he wants you to like him."
Jongin blushed, looking off to the side instead of meeting Chanyeol's eyes.
"Gross, you're in love with him, aren't you? Don't worry, mate. Baekhyun never gets caught. You'll see him again in no time."
***
Jongin watched him -watched the soft symmetry of his face, the simple eyes, the thin lips, the long ears. In theory, his features weren't ideal. Jongin would furrow his brows if anyone described beauty through the ordinary features -but Baekhyun was beautiful.
"I don't like my face," Baekhyun said, turning away from Jongin as if he were reading his mind.
He associated Baekhyun with an almost telepathy -the way he always knew exactly who Jongin was, both as a whole and a summation of parts.
"But I love your face. It's my favorite face." Jongin couldn't read signs well, or people. The right things to say, the proper words, and the ideal body language-it all escaped him. Baekhyun smiled, the only asymmetrical thing about his face, and Jongin couldn't understand how anyone could dislike a thing about Baekhyun, even the bad things.
Especially the bad things.
"You're a simple man, Mister Kim." Baekhyun kissed him then. It felt like approval, and tasted like satisfaction. He didn't know why Baekhyun's opinion of him mattered more than anyone else's. Baekhyun believing he was a good guy didn't mean much when you weighed in his immoral tendencies.
Jongin looked at Baekhyun, really looked, and even as he saw Baekhyun's chest rise and fall with even breaths, even as he ran his hands down the slope of his naked back -he missed Baekhyun. It ached to see him, just as much as it pained him to watch him go. Jongin didn't understand how he could miss someone that hadn't left yet. The thought of having forever was just as impossible and idealistic as having another day, another week. It didn't matter what happened. Jongin would miss Baekhyun.
"Why do you always look at me like that?"
Jongin blinked, wondering what his face looked like, and asked, "Like what?"
"Like you don't believe I'm real."
You aren't real, he thought as he said, "Of course I believe you're real." As if to make a point -to himself or to Baekhyun, he wasn't quite sure -he guided one of Baekhyun's artful hands to his hardened cock. It wasn't that Baekhyun looked particularly sexy with his sleep heavy eyes and bangs stuck awkwardly to his forehead. There was nothing particularly erotic about the slow way in which he rolled on his left side, facing Jongin but still seeming far away.
There was just something there, something intrinsically sensual. Or maybe it was just the fact that, with liking someone long enough, everything they did was arousing.
Baekhyun laughed, again in time with Jongin's mind -his almost telepathy. "Like I said. A simple man."
***
Going to work became troublesome. He avoided eye contact with Kyungsoo, sat two seats away from Junmyeon, and lowered his blinds for the first time since moving offices.
"Is everything okay, Jongin?" Kyungsoo asked after catching Jongin scurrying out of the bathroom stall. Jongin wondered how long Kyungsoo had been waiting there.
There was no such thing as avoiding Kyungsoo. He knew when Jongin was trying to shake him, and he remained distant enough for Jongin to assume his plan was working. Eventually, Jongin would realize just how wrong he was.
"Junmyeon is worried about you."
Jongin frowned. "And you're not?"
"No." Kyungsoo smiled, ambiguously. "I'm not."
"Why not?"
Kyungsoo arched an eyebrow. "Should I be worried? I was under the impression that you finally dating someone was a good thing."
Jongin froze, watching Kyungsoo's reflection scrutinize him through the mirror.
"Is that what you think? That I'm dating someone?"
"Well, maybe I'm wrong," Kyungsoo mumbled, shrugging casually and turning around to face Jongin fully. "Do you mind if I use your phone for a second?"
"Sure," he replied, reaching into his pocket automatically. It wasn't until he handed his phone over that he realized his mistake.
"Oh, you changed your wallpaper? Who is this?"
Jongin gulped, practically audible in the silence of the restroom.
"Just a friend of mine." It was a picture of Baekhyun standing outside in the snow, head tipped back towards the sky, hands deep into his pockets. Snow gathered in his hair and on his face. His smile was uneven, like he had something wicked on his mind. He looked younger, kinder almost. It was Jongin's favorite picture out of the many he had stored in his phone.
"Okay, a friend," Kyungsoo said, disbelievingly. "What's his name?"
"Baekhyun." Jongin couldn't help but laugh a little, thinking about the ridiculous aliases he has heard come out of Baekhyun's mouth.
Kyungsoo laughed too, as if he were in on the joke. Jongin recognized the smug look on his face. He wondered what Kyungsoo would say if he knew that Baekhyun could steal millions with a smile and a wink.
He wondered what Kyungsoo would say if he knew that Jongin would steal millions and more, for Baekhyun.
***
It surprised Jongin a lot more than it should have to see Zitao's apartment.
Zitao's apartment was located in the northwestern part of the city, near the old brewery. The area was mostly comprised of well-to-do nuclear families with subscriptions to Home and Garden magazine and positions in the neighborhood watch program. Zitao's complex was built within the last ten years, and was the only modern residential building in a town full of historical landmarks and Victorian townhouses.
"Pretty nice for a pickpocket, huh?" Jongin had just been about to say something along those lines but, of course, Baekhyun beat him to it. Baekhyun laughed, pushing at Jongin's slack jaw.
"My foster brother gave it to me to take care of while he's living in Beijing," Zitao explained.
"Before I moved here, me and Baekhyun shared a shitty one-bedroom in southwest."
Baekhyun groaned, sagging into Zitao's couch, which was an alarming shade of red. "We weren't far from the stadium, but the addicts lived in the building across from us. Noisy bunch -those druggies."
"This is my alibi." Zitao gestures around the apartment with his left hand. "Right down to the wallpaper." Jongin stared at the family portrait above the faux fireplace. A scrawny, prepubescent Zitao -flanked on each side by a short, shaggy haired boy with vacant eyes, and a pleasant faced middle aged couple -stared back at him.
"So you don't do anything in this neighborhood?" Jongin asked, for clarity's sake. The logistics of their criminal ways often took a while for him to grasp -which probably had more to do with Baekhyun's artful way of spinning a web of lies into something that resembled the truth, rather than any misunderstanding surrounding their job.
"Nope, Zitao says this is a no-touch zone. It would have been the perfect long-con if we started right before Yixing moved out."
Zitao sighed from the kitchen nook, whipping up some sort of fruity concoction Jongin was hesitant to try. "In other words, Baekhyun is a dick that wants to exploit trust, which is technically his specialty and what we do on a regular basis-"
"In other words," Baekhyun interrupted, "Zitao doesn't want his brother to know he is a criminal. Poor Yixing would probably fly right back home and cradle his big little brother in his tiny angelic arms and try to cure him of his kleptomaniac ways."
"Listen to that load of crap, Jongin!" Zitao exclaimed, shoulders and arms flexing from how hard he stirred the bowl in front of him. "Baekhyun must not have told you anything about how we met." Bits of fruit specks flew from the side of the bowl and Jongin watched as Zitao added sugar and coconut shavings. He was afraid to ask exactly what Zitao was making, especially since Baekhyun seemed to be anticipating it.
"That's hardly important, Zitao. Don't start," Baekhyun warned. Jongin never thought to ask about the origins of their partnership. Jongin took what little information Baekhyun offered and let the remaining silence speak for itself.
"My foster brother, Yixing, spent an alarming number of years being in love with that asshole sitting next to you the couch. Disregarding the fact that Yixing is blind-"
"That has nothing to do with how we met!" Baekhyun shouts indignantly.
"Oh but it does. You manipulate people to get things you want and even if you have what you want, you still can't stop deceiving people. Jongin, guess how much shit Baekhyun would have gotten away with had I not intervened?"
"I don't know." He shrugged, watching Zitao's profile instead of Baekhyun's fidgeting fingers.
"He would have cleaned my foster parents out and run away somewhere with Yixing by his side and go all Bonnie and Clyde across the country. But I didn't want my brother involved with that."
"So you got involved instead?" Jongin asked. He didn't really understand what Zitao was trying to say. He had a tendency to view Baekhyun through rose colored glasses, so anything contrary to Baekhyun being the sun and the stars and the moon and the tallest mountain-just didn't seem to make sense. He was largely intrigued by their differences. Baekhyun seeing light in places Jongin would always find darkness. Jongin wouldn't admit it then, but he had long since traveled beyond the border of interest into blissfully naïve infatuation.
"I'll admit I didn't figure out how slick a bastard Baekhyun was until much later. If I'm being honest, which I learned not to, then I guess you can say I was jealous. Yixing always got what he wanted, and after meeting Baekhyun for the first time, well, I don't have to tell you about it, Jongin. You've fallen for those eyes already."
"I know it's hard to believe, but a veeeery long time ago, Zitao liked me." Baekhyun straightened his spine like he was about to boast, but Zitao cut him off before he could get anywhere.
"That isn't important. Baekhyun saw potential in me so he ditched my brother after he got through using him."
"I didn't use him. I mean, I did, but not really."
"The moral of the story is to never trust Baekhyun to stay straight."
"That's a given, since I'm into dick anyway."
"You know what I mean. Once a con man, always a con man."
Jongin thought about Zitao's words, and knew they couldn't be true.
Baekhyun may not have told Jongin everything about his life, but he hasn't lied to Jongin either.
***
"Jongin, I need for you to be honest," Kyungsoo said, voice low through the phone's speakers.
Jongin was getting increasing upset by every circumstance that led to this conversation. Baekhyun was M.I.A, Junmyeon wasn't speaking to him, and he couldn't get in touch with anyone other than the authorities and the higher ups at the office that suspected Jongin, of all people, of white collar crime.
"Kyungsoo, you know me. Do you really think I'm capable of this sort of thing?"
"No," he admitted. "But you've been a little distant lately and you're always hanging out with Baekhyun and his friends. I have nothing against the guy, but Jongin, he's not exactly a good influence on you. I hate to say it, but-"
"Then don't say it. I had nothing to do with the missing money and neither does Baekhyun."
Kyungsoo sighed, sounding tired and resigned. "Okay. Then I believe you. I'll stick by you."
Jongin knew it couldn't have been Baekhyun.
It didn't make sense.
"Thanks, Kyungsoo. I promise when this is all figured out, you'll see Baekhyun isn't a bad person."
"Don't make promises, Jongin. You still haven't bought me that grand piano."
"We were kids. How can you still remember that?"
"I don't forget the things you say. Even if you forget them."
Jongin didn't know what to say to that. Suddenly, he felt like a terrible friend.
"Goodnight, Jongin."
"You too, Kyungsoo."
He hung up the phone, thinking about the first time he felt asleep with Baekhyun's name the last on his lips.
***
Jongin was a silent man with a calm demeanor and a predisposition to rational decision-making. He made lists, packed for business trips two days in advance, separated his laundry by color and fabric after realizing that it really did make a difference.
Come outside.
Baekhyun showed up ten minutes late with a change of plans that neither party anticipated. He prepared lies quicker than a complete breath. He handled money with a calculated professionalism that rivaled any businessmen, yet he forgot to eat breakfast or go grocery shopping because such things as basic as necessities of life weren't as important as a steady flow of unfathomable amounts of wealth that other people had to offer.
What are you planning?
Jongin graduated with dual degrees from a top research university, as well as a variety of summer internships completed every summer since his senior year in high school. Baekhyun graduated high school as more of a formality than anything close to academic ambition.
Don't ask questions. Put on a shirt and come on!
Jongin has never been in detention. Baekhyun managed to avoid jail.
Is Zitao coming with us?
Jongin only wears black and white. Baekhyun loves the color green.
I want you alone. Is that okay?
Jongin has questions. Baekhyun has answers.
Of course. Just give me a minute.
Jongin. Baekhyun.
I'll just be here. Waiting.
***
Chanyeol was better at getting Baekhyun to come out of hiding than Jongin was.
"Bee, stop being lame and talk to your boyfriend. He's driving me up the wall with his lovestruck pissing and moaning."
Jongin stayed quiet on the upper level of the warehouse. He would be forever indebted to Chanyeol for doing him this favor. Baekhyun sat on the edge of Chanyeol's couch, fidgeting and biting his lips.
"I want to call him. But I can't. I have to fix this first."
"Fix what, Bee? What did you do?"
"This is all my fault. This was my plan."
Chanyeol tapped out a rhythm on his desk. Baekhyun slumped back into the couch and whined high in his throat. "Hey Dobby?"
"Yeah?" Chanyeol responded.
"I think I should just leave. Skip out and move on."
"You know he'd forgive you, right?" Chanyeol asked, sparing a quick glance to the upper level where Jongin sat crouched on the cold floor, listening.
Baekhyun sighed. "That's the problem. He'd forgive me. I don't deserve that. I keep fucking things up."
Chanyeol slammed his fist down into the desk, startling Baekhyun, and Jongin.
"Look, Bees-knees," he said, purposefully raising his voice. "Be a man and go fix your bloody love life. You need to go tell Jongin you're madly in love with him."
"I can't do that. You know I can't."
"It's really easy, Bee. First say I, then follow that up with, am in love with you."
"When I first met him," Baekhyun began, "I just knew he was the perfect mark. For someone like him, getting him to fall in love with me was a cake walk. But, the more I went along with it, the more I didn't want to put on an act. He's such a genuinely great guy that I feel like a dick when I'm with him."
"So are you trying to say that you don't love him?"
The room went silent, and Jongin was ready to run down the stairs and shake Baekhyun by the shoulders.
"I can't be who I am and still have Jongin."
"You're really going to pick money over someone that loves you?" Chanyeol scoffed. "I don't think I've ever been disappointed in you. How long are you going to keep at this?"
"I don't know. But I don't want to hurt Jongin. I just want to go back to how things used to be."
Chanyeol sighed. "Jongin, come down here and punch Bee in the face."
Jongin stood up, walking down the stairs as slowly as possible. Baekhyun gasped, turning around to glare at Chanyeol.
"I can't believe you did this," Baekhyun said.
"Sorry, but I actually like Jongin. I'm actually a little jealous that you got to him first. Unlike you, I would have kept my criminal affairs out of the relationship."
Jongin couldn't look Baekhyun in the eye. He wanted to be upset that Baekhyun lied to him. He wanted to be mad that he was wrong, that Baekhyun would never use him. But mostly he wanted to kiss Baekhyun, ask him if he remembered to eat breakfast. He wanted to run his fingers through Baekhyun's hair, tell him that it had gotten longer.
"Baekhyun," he said. "I want to ask you for a favor."
"What is it?" Baekhyun asked quietly.
"Let me be the one to leave. Finish what you started. I'll pretend I have no clue. But when the time comes, I want to be the one to leave you."
Baekhyun looked confused for a minute before he nodded, looking over at Chanyeol to gauge his reaction.
"Don't be a stranger, Jongin. I know that one over there is an ass, but I have an arsenal of two player shooting games you might enjoy. And booze."
"Thanks, Chanyeol. I appreciate that."
Jongin left with plenty to think about. He would have to take control of his life.
***
"It was implied that when I left, you wouldn't follow me." Jongin expected to wake up each day of his life, watching the clock tick off another second, minute, hour of time spent walking away from Baekhyun.
"It's implied, right now, that I'll always follow you. Now that I've gotten past a few lingering bouts of self-doubt, I can say that I, Baekhyun, am in love with you."
Jongin thought about this moment. In his mind's eye, Baekhyun waited outside his door during the first snowfall. He would start with introducing himself, all pretenses aside.
"So what if you love me?"
"I don't just love you, Jongin," Baekhyun said plainly. "I'm sobbing into my pillow at 4AM in love with you. I'm staring at your picture until my eyes burn in love with you. I'm standing outside of your old apartment screaming at the top of my lungs in love with you. I'm so embarrassed that I could die right now in love with you. Jongin, there's no other way I can say it."
Jongin remembers how many times he's told Baekhyun he loved him. Not with words, but with actions. Late nights staying up late watching Baekhyun sleep. Spending every second missing him, needing him, wanting him. Dreaming of waking up next to him every morning, sleeping next to him every night.
Maybe, he thought, Baekhyun did the same.
"It's probably unhealthy loving someone as capricious as you."
Baekhyun grinned. "Does this mean you forgive me?"
"I've already forgiven you. Don't push your luck though."
Baekhyun sat flush against him, leaning his head on Jongin's shoulder.
"Great, because I gave up two million for you."
"Wow, you really do love me."
"Now we have to have make up sex. That's the next step, obviously."
"I missed you."
"I'm a lot of fun. How about we not breakup anymore?"
"Deal."
Rating: PG-13 (mentions of sex/sexual situations)
Side pairing/s: mentions of past baekhyun/yixing
Length: 5, 552 words
Summary: Confidence Man: A Series of Vignettes by Jongin Kim, also known as, falling in love with Baekhyun, also known as, Baekhyun cons people for a living and Jongin is okay with that.
Warning/s: doesn't follow a linear structure. The first and last scenes go together directly, however.
Notes: plotless, pornless, pointless. I didn't do your prompt justice but I hope you still like it, dear recipient.
Jongin drove ten miles south, looking for God. Well, a church, at least. He passed three churches before he pulled into the fourth -empty and desperate looking.
He sat at the pew furthest from the altar. It wasn't a Catholic church, but God was God and crimes were sin. He had no idea how long he sat there, staring at the golden letters of Holy Bible and feeling his palms sweat in his clenched fists.
"What should I start with?" he asked aloud to no one in particular, but God, probably. A soft pair of footsteps, purposeful and rhythmic, came from behind. Jongin closed his eyes, listened to his eminent doom.
"I don't know, maybe something like, forgive me Lord and Savior the almighty and powerful magnificent God. I am a sinner, strike me down where I stand!"
It hadn't become ironic until the minute he looked up, saw Baekhyun standing there with a halo of light surrounding him -straight white teeth gleaming spectacularly, small hands raised out in a gesture of trustworthiness.
Are you Satan? Jongin wanted to ask. Because Lucifer was an angel once. God's favorite, even. But instead he sagged forward until his elbows clanked against the tops of his knees, rested his head in his hands, and said, "Why did you follow me?"
Baekhyun laughed, but it was muffled by the sound of Jongin's heartbeat in his ears.
"It wasn't hard finding you," he said, like this was all another game, and Jongin was the objective.
"It's like you left me clues."
"That doesn't answer my question," said Jongin, quietly. It'd be easier if Baekhyun could really read minds, like he claims he can when he's conning unsuspecting civilians on the street. "You don't do things just because you can. You're motivated by benefits. I don't benefit you anymore."
There was a pause -a moment of great silence that almost had Jongin convinced that Baekhyun being there was a figment of his imagination.
"I dunno, 'cause I love you or something," Baekhyun said then, shrugging like he wasn't sure. A fifty-fifty chance that after all the shit that happened in the past few months, that maybe, he loved Jongin. But Baekhyun is sure about everything, with statistical precision.
"And I need you, too. It may not seem like it, but..." he trailed off, leaving Jongin to contemplate the missing words.
Jongin instinctively knew to fear a lot of things and learned to fear others. Death was one of the things he learned not to fear. Death was the ultimate end, the ultimate nothingness. It was all the living before death that was frightening. You lived and you were lied to. You lived and you loved someone. You lived and pain and suffering and grief and lust and sin. Hatred, you lived with hatred -for something or someone.
Jongin was in love with Baekhyun. He knows he should have been afraid of that, instinctively, like how people fear snakes or heights. But he wasn't afraid.
How easily he could say with the utmost sincerity that he was in love with Baekhyun.
He wasn't afraid.
***
Jongin shivered, pulling on the lapels of his coat. The fabric was warm, and smelled roughly like every restaurant he'd ever eaten in, the past few months, and a little of Kyungsoo's cigarettes. His tie was crooked, like it was most of the time someone wasn't there to straighten it. He left work at seven on the dot and carried himself to his car in a slow motioned haze that only served to remind him how cold the world had the potential to be.
He coughed a visible breath into the air and winced at the sound. He was thinking about stopping for something to drink, and the weather only cemented the urge.
The streets were nearly clear of traffic, and the ground glistened with salt and the lightest sheet of snow.
There was a place not too far from where he worked called K&M. He never found time to go during their normal hours, and was hesitant to visit during their extended hours. The weather erased the uncertainty, and compelled him to turn his car around in the opposite direction.
There were three levels of K&M: the bookstore on the first floor, the café on the second, and the jazz lounge on the third. It was designed to resemble the architecture of the French Quarter in New Orleans, and attracted a wide variety of customers.
Jongin parked along a side street within quick walking distance to the entrance. A couple wearing matching coats and hats kissed passionately as they waited for the pedestrian signal to turn green.
Jongin looked away, further down the street, ignoring the burn of his chest. There was a man standing under the streetlight, head tipped towards the sky and mouth blowing out wisps of smoke. He had dark hair and pale skin. He wasn't wearing a coat.
Jongin couldn't help but stare. Wasn't the stranger cold?
The light at the crosswalk changed and the couple ahead of him began to cross. Jongin followed, chancing surreptitious glances at the man under the streetlight.
His slight body was bathed in the eerie fluorescent light, and it reminded Jongin of a sci-fi movie.
Any second now, and someone would take him, Jongin thought suddenly.
He was jolted from his thoughts as he accidentally bumped into a parking meter. The man looked up at him then, flashing a sly grin, as if he knew that Jongin was going to bump into it at that exact moment.
He flushed in embarrassment, watching the laughter bloom across the stranger's face.
"This is usually when I make a narcissistic joke," the man said, walking forward until he was only an arm's distance away from Jongin, "but that looked like it really hurt."
His voice was slightly raspy from the cold, and deeper than Jongin expected from someone with such a youthful face.
Jongin smiled sheepishly. "I'm fine. I just wasn't watching where I was going."
"I know. You were too busy checking me out. It's okay though. You're pretty good looking yourself."
Jongin's ears burned and he felt hot enough to shed his scarf.
"Aww, you're shy. That's cute."
Jongin couldn't say a word in response, even if he tried. The man ended each sentence with another -words following his train of thought rather than the structure of a two-sided conversation.
"You look like you need company. How about I make sure you don't run into any other immobile objects?" He moved to stand flush against Jongin, bringing with him the smell of clove and honey.
"Uh, I'm-"
"Hey, guess my name."
Jongin blinked, taken by surprise by the swift change of subject. The man had small eyes trained on his face excitedly, like a child opening presents on Christmas. They were standing less than five feet from the doors of K&M, but Jongin didn't feel as urgent to escape the cold as he was a few minutes earlier.
"Excuse-"
"What do you think my name is? Huh? Do I look like a Steven? My friend says I look like a Steven."
"I can't tell. You just look like...you."
"I bet your name is ordinary. What's an Asian John Doe? John Kim? You look like a John Kim."
"Jongin, actually."
"Ah, Jongin Kim? I bet you're rich. Probably coming back from a boring, endless job at some high rise downtown. Business or business law. You a lawyer?"
"Uh, no, I'm a financial analyst for my company's law firm."
"See, what did I tell you? Rich and boring. No offense, Jongin Kim."
"None taken?"
The stranger laughed, a full body laugh that had Jongin resisting the pull of his own mouth upwards and across his face.
"So, what is your name?"
"Aw, that's no fun. How can I tell you my name so easily? We've only just met!"
Jongin, speechless and shivering on the sidewalk, watched as the man turned in a circle, spinning on his heels. Jongin wanted to call after him, ask him to stay longer, talk more. Instead, he watched the retreating silhouette and wondered if they would ever meet again.
***
What did you do, Baekhyun? Where are you? Are you okay?
The many questions Jongin failed to ask as he got a mysterious message from Baekhyun early in the day.
look under your bed, the text read. Baekhyun rarely texted so straightforwardly. Jongin was used to pictures of different places captioned with, come find me! I'm waiting.
Jongin looked under his bed, as instructed. Besides dust and the small safe he kept a handgun in-he couldn't find anything. He checked the safe anyway, and wasn't surprised to find a green sticky note with Baekhyun's small, slanted handwriting on it.
if you're reading this right now, that means (a) you're about to kill someone, or (b) i'm in trouble. there's an address in your ancient rolodex. follow the instructions on that.
Jongin didn't wonder how Baekhyun knew the combination to his safe, he didn't wonder when Baekhyun found the time to plan this information, and he didn't wonder why Zitao wasn't the first person he called.
2000 Beech St. ask for dobby the house elf. tell him I'm digging holes for the warden.
Jongin frowned, turning the sheet over and over until he came to the conclusion that he would never understand the meaning behind the message without an explanation from Baekhyun himself.
He rushed to his car, inputting the address into his GPS. It was an empty warehouse, according to his GPS, but he sped there anyway.
The twenty minute drive only served to make him more anxious. A small part of him anticipated running into issues chasing around someone as wild as Baekhyun.
But when he thought about the alternatives -it all seemed worth it in the end.
***
The warehouse was registered as empty to anyone that didn't have instructions to meet someone there. Jongin paced back and forth, standing at two industrial steel doors chained with locks that even Baekhyun couldn't get past.
He didn't know if knocking was the best option or tossing something at the windows on the second floor.
"Hey," a voice called from behind. Jongin turned around, spotting a police officer. "You aren't allowed to be up here."
Jongin weighed the options of telling the truth or making up something on the spot. "My friend wants me to meet someone here."
"Well, what friend would send you out to an empty warehouse?"
"My friend is a little unorthodox. All I know is that I'm supposed to be meeting a guy he calls Dobby the house elf."
The officer's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "You're not a cop?" he asked, inspecting Jongin from head to toe. "Well shite. Bee sent you here, then."
A small part of Jongin wanted to laugh. Between the large eyes, protruding ears, thin frame, and the English accent -he understood where the nickname came from.
The man removed his uniform, which turned out to be nothing more than a costume, revealing a red and blue Spiderman t-shirt underneath.
"Who are you, exactly? I don't mean to offend you, mate, but you look like a pencil pusher."
"None taken. I, uh," Jongin started to explain, but came up short on how exactly to explain. Baekhyun wasn't really his friend, by normal definitions, and although Jongin was incredibly infatuated, they wouldn't be considered dating -not exactly, anyway.
"Oh, I got it. You two are shagging. That explains why he sent you instead of his dog."
"But Baekhyun doesn't have a dog."
"Oh, you haven't met Zitao?" The man laughed, at his own joke nonetheless, and Jongin wasn't surprised that this was the person Baekhyun made sure he would meet.
Jongin cracked a small smile, finding it hard not to. "He wanted me to tell you that he was digging holes for the warden. I have no idea what that means, but I'm sure you do."
"Bloody hell, he's done something stupid. Here, follow me."
Jongin obeyed without hesitation. The warehouse only appeared abandoned. The inside was fully furnished and seemed to be both a workplace and a living space.
There were giant posters of comic book characters and half-naked women lining the walls, presumably to cover the horrible paint job. There was a computer station big enough to be considered a lab in the center of the room, and an L shaped couch in the far right corner. He couldn't tell what was on the upper level from where he stood, but he guessed there were more personal items.
"Fan-fucking-tastic. I haven't spoken to the bloke in nearly half a year and this is how he gets in touch? Typical day typical shoddy best friend." He fiddled with some of his computers, typing faster than Jongin thought possible. "Good thing I'm perfect at my job or else he'd be arse over tit in a ditch somewhere in Kansas." He sighed, then seemed like he just remembered something. "Oh, by the way, I'm Chanyeol."
"I'm Jongin." He paused, listening to the echo of Chanyeol's typing. "So, how do you know Baekhyun?" Jongin wasn't a master of small talk, but he couldn't just stand there without saying anything at all.
"Long story. Bee will tell you if you stick around long enough."
"I guess you're right. It's only been four months. I don't expect to meet his entire list of...contacts."
"Holy shite mate. Four months in Baekhyun's world is a fucking long time. Not unless he's trying to steal your fortune. But Bee doesn't need to fuck a bod for four months to get his money."
"He hasn't tried anything like that since I've known him. Must be time for retirement."
The sound of the keyboard stopped suddenly and Jongin shrunk back from the stare that was directed at him.
"Retirement? From the job? Bee has been doing this since he was a kid. He'd never...wait. Oh. Oh. Christ in the closet. He likes you. God, this is hilarious. He's actually being a decent human because he wants you to like him."
Jongin blushed, looking off to the side instead of meeting Chanyeol's eyes.
"Gross, you're in love with him, aren't you? Don't worry, mate. Baekhyun never gets caught. You'll see him again in no time."
***
Jongin watched him -watched the soft symmetry of his face, the simple eyes, the thin lips, the long ears. In theory, his features weren't ideal. Jongin would furrow his brows if anyone described beauty through the ordinary features -but Baekhyun was beautiful.
"I don't like my face," Baekhyun said, turning away from Jongin as if he were reading his mind.
He associated Baekhyun with an almost telepathy -the way he always knew exactly who Jongin was, both as a whole and a summation of parts.
"But I love your face. It's my favorite face." Jongin couldn't read signs well, or people. The right things to say, the proper words, and the ideal body language-it all escaped him. Baekhyun smiled, the only asymmetrical thing about his face, and Jongin couldn't understand how anyone could dislike a thing about Baekhyun, even the bad things.
Especially the bad things.
"You're a simple man, Mister Kim." Baekhyun kissed him then. It felt like approval, and tasted like satisfaction. He didn't know why Baekhyun's opinion of him mattered more than anyone else's. Baekhyun believing he was a good guy didn't mean much when you weighed in his immoral tendencies.
Jongin looked at Baekhyun, really looked, and even as he saw Baekhyun's chest rise and fall with even breaths, even as he ran his hands down the slope of his naked back -he missed Baekhyun. It ached to see him, just as much as it pained him to watch him go. Jongin didn't understand how he could miss someone that hadn't left yet. The thought of having forever was just as impossible and idealistic as having another day, another week. It didn't matter what happened. Jongin would miss Baekhyun.
"Why do you always look at me like that?"
Jongin blinked, wondering what his face looked like, and asked, "Like what?"
"Like you don't believe I'm real."
You aren't real, he thought as he said, "Of course I believe you're real." As if to make a point -to himself or to Baekhyun, he wasn't quite sure -he guided one of Baekhyun's artful hands to his hardened cock. It wasn't that Baekhyun looked particularly sexy with his sleep heavy eyes and bangs stuck awkwardly to his forehead. There was nothing particularly erotic about the slow way in which he rolled on his left side, facing Jongin but still seeming far away.
There was just something there, something intrinsically sensual. Or maybe it was just the fact that, with liking someone long enough, everything they did was arousing.
Baekhyun laughed, again in time with Jongin's mind -his almost telepathy. "Like I said. A simple man."
***
Going to work became troublesome. He avoided eye contact with Kyungsoo, sat two seats away from Junmyeon, and lowered his blinds for the first time since moving offices.
"Is everything okay, Jongin?" Kyungsoo asked after catching Jongin scurrying out of the bathroom stall. Jongin wondered how long Kyungsoo had been waiting there.
There was no such thing as avoiding Kyungsoo. He knew when Jongin was trying to shake him, and he remained distant enough for Jongin to assume his plan was working. Eventually, Jongin would realize just how wrong he was.
"Junmyeon is worried about you."
Jongin frowned. "And you're not?"
"No." Kyungsoo smiled, ambiguously. "I'm not."
"Why not?"
Kyungsoo arched an eyebrow. "Should I be worried? I was under the impression that you finally dating someone was a good thing."
Jongin froze, watching Kyungsoo's reflection scrutinize him through the mirror.
"Is that what you think? That I'm dating someone?"
"Well, maybe I'm wrong," Kyungsoo mumbled, shrugging casually and turning around to face Jongin fully. "Do you mind if I use your phone for a second?"
"Sure," he replied, reaching into his pocket automatically. It wasn't until he handed his phone over that he realized his mistake.
"Oh, you changed your wallpaper? Who is this?"
Jongin gulped, practically audible in the silence of the restroom.
"Just a friend of mine." It was a picture of Baekhyun standing outside in the snow, head tipped back towards the sky, hands deep into his pockets. Snow gathered in his hair and on his face. His smile was uneven, like he had something wicked on his mind. He looked younger, kinder almost. It was Jongin's favorite picture out of the many he had stored in his phone.
"Okay, a friend," Kyungsoo said, disbelievingly. "What's his name?"
"Baekhyun." Jongin couldn't help but laugh a little, thinking about the ridiculous aliases he has heard come out of Baekhyun's mouth.
Kyungsoo laughed too, as if he were in on the joke. Jongin recognized the smug look on his face. He wondered what Kyungsoo would say if he knew that Baekhyun could steal millions with a smile and a wink.
He wondered what Kyungsoo would say if he knew that Jongin would steal millions and more, for Baekhyun.
***
It surprised Jongin a lot more than it should have to see Zitao's apartment.
Zitao's apartment was located in the northwestern part of the city, near the old brewery. The area was mostly comprised of well-to-do nuclear families with subscriptions to Home and Garden magazine and positions in the neighborhood watch program. Zitao's complex was built within the last ten years, and was the only modern residential building in a town full of historical landmarks and Victorian townhouses.
"Pretty nice for a pickpocket, huh?" Jongin had just been about to say something along those lines but, of course, Baekhyun beat him to it. Baekhyun laughed, pushing at Jongin's slack jaw.
"My foster brother gave it to me to take care of while he's living in Beijing," Zitao explained.
"Before I moved here, me and Baekhyun shared a shitty one-bedroom in southwest."
Baekhyun groaned, sagging into Zitao's couch, which was an alarming shade of red. "We weren't far from the stadium, but the addicts lived in the building across from us. Noisy bunch -those druggies."
"This is my alibi." Zitao gestures around the apartment with his left hand. "Right down to the wallpaper." Jongin stared at the family portrait above the faux fireplace. A scrawny, prepubescent Zitao -flanked on each side by a short, shaggy haired boy with vacant eyes, and a pleasant faced middle aged couple -stared back at him.
"So you don't do anything in this neighborhood?" Jongin asked, for clarity's sake. The logistics of their criminal ways often took a while for him to grasp -which probably had more to do with Baekhyun's artful way of spinning a web of lies into something that resembled the truth, rather than any misunderstanding surrounding their job.
"Nope, Zitao says this is a no-touch zone. It would have been the perfect long-con if we started right before Yixing moved out."
Zitao sighed from the kitchen nook, whipping up some sort of fruity concoction Jongin was hesitant to try. "In other words, Baekhyun is a dick that wants to exploit trust, which is technically his specialty and what we do on a regular basis-"
"In other words," Baekhyun interrupted, "Zitao doesn't want his brother to know he is a criminal. Poor Yixing would probably fly right back home and cradle his big little brother in his tiny angelic arms and try to cure him of his kleptomaniac ways."
"Listen to that load of crap, Jongin!" Zitao exclaimed, shoulders and arms flexing from how hard he stirred the bowl in front of him. "Baekhyun must not have told you anything about how we met." Bits of fruit specks flew from the side of the bowl and Jongin watched as Zitao added sugar and coconut shavings. He was afraid to ask exactly what Zitao was making, especially since Baekhyun seemed to be anticipating it.
"That's hardly important, Zitao. Don't start," Baekhyun warned. Jongin never thought to ask about the origins of their partnership. Jongin took what little information Baekhyun offered and let the remaining silence speak for itself.
"My foster brother, Yixing, spent an alarming number of years being in love with that asshole sitting next to you the couch. Disregarding the fact that Yixing is blind-"
"That has nothing to do with how we met!" Baekhyun shouts indignantly.
"Oh but it does. You manipulate people to get things you want and even if you have what you want, you still can't stop deceiving people. Jongin, guess how much shit Baekhyun would have gotten away with had I not intervened?"
"I don't know." He shrugged, watching Zitao's profile instead of Baekhyun's fidgeting fingers.
"He would have cleaned my foster parents out and run away somewhere with Yixing by his side and go all Bonnie and Clyde across the country. But I didn't want my brother involved with that."
"So you got involved instead?" Jongin asked. He didn't really understand what Zitao was trying to say. He had a tendency to view Baekhyun through rose colored glasses, so anything contrary to Baekhyun being the sun and the stars and the moon and the tallest mountain-just didn't seem to make sense. He was largely intrigued by their differences. Baekhyun seeing light in places Jongin would always find darkness. Jongin wouldn't admit it then, but he had long since traveled beyond the border of interest into blissfully naïve infatuation.
"I'll admit I didn't figure out how slick a bastard Baekhyun was until much later. If I'm being honest, which I learned not to, then I guess you can say I was jealous. Yixing always got what he wanted, and after meeting Baekhyun for the first time, well, I don't have to tell you about it, Jongin. You've fallen for those eyes already."
"I know it's hard to believe, but a veeeery long time ago, Zitao liked me." Baekhyun straightened his spine like he was about to boast, but Zitao cut him off before he could get anywhere.
"That isn't important. Baekhyun saw potential in me so he ditched my brother after he got through using him."
"I didn't use him. I mean, I did, but not really."
"The moral of the story is to never trust Baekhyun to stay straight."
"That's a given, since I'm into dick anyway."
"You know what I mean. Once a con man, always a con man."
Jongin thought about Zitao's words, and knew they couldn't be true.
Baekhyun may not have told Jongin everything about his life, but he hasn't lied to Jongin either.
***
"Jongin, I need for you to be honest," Kyungsoo said, voice low through the phone's speakers.
Jongin was getting increasing upset by every circumstance that led to this conversation. Baekhyun was M.I.A, Junmyeon wasn't speaking to him, and he couldn't get in touch with anyone other than the authorities and the higher ups at the office that suspected Jongin, of all people, of white collar crime.
"Kyungsoo, you know me. Do you really think I'm capable of this sort of thing?"
"No," he admitted. "But you've been a little distant lately and you're always hanging out with Baekhyun and his friends. I have nothing against the guy, but Jongin, he's not exactly a good influence on you. I hate to say it, but-"
"Then don't say it. I had nothing to do with the missing money and neither does Baekhyun."
Kyungsoo sighed, sounding tired and resigned. "Okay. Then I believe you. I'll stick by you."
Jongin knew it couldn't have been Baekhyun.
It didn't make sense.
"Thanks, Kyungsoo. I promise when this is all figured out, you'll see Baekhyun isn't a bad person."
"Don't make promises, Jongin. You still haven't bought me that grand piano."
"We were kids. How can you still remember that?"
"I don't forget the things you say. Even if you forget them."
Jongin didn't know what to say to that. Suddenly, he felt like a terrible friend.
"Goodnight, Jongin."
"You too, Kyungsoo."
He hung up the phone, thinking about the first time he felt asleep with Baekhyun's name the last on his lips.
***
Jongin was a silent man with a calm demeanor and a predisposition to rational decision-making. He made lists, packed for business trips two days in advance, separated his laundry by color and fabric after realizing that it really did make a difference.
Come outside.
Baekhyun showed up ten minutes late with a change of plans that neither party anticipated. He prepared lies quicker than a complete breath. He handled money with a calculated professionalism that rivaled any businessmen, yet he forgot to eat breakfast or go grocery shopping because such things as basic as necessities of life weren't as important as a steady flow of unfathomable amounts of wealth that other people had to offer.
What are you planning?
Jongin graduated with dual degrees from a top research university, as well as a variety of summer internships completed every summer since his senior year in high school. Baekhyun graduated high school as more of a formality than anything close to academic ambition.
Don't ask questions. Put on a shirt and come on!
Jongin has never been in detention. Baekhyun managed to avoid jail.
Is Zitao coming with us?
Jongin only wears black and white. Baekhyun loves the color green.
I want you alone. Is that okay?
Jongin has questions. Baekhyun has answers.
Of course. Just give me a minute.
Jongin. Baekhyun.
I'll just be here. Waiting.
***
Chanyeol was better at getting Baekhyun to come out of hiding than Jongin was.
"Bee, stop being lame and talk to your boyfriend. He's driving me up the wall with his lovestruck pissing and moaning."
Jongin stayed quiet on the upper level of the warehouse. He would be forever indebted to Chanyeol for doing him this favor. Baekhyun sat on the edge of Chanyeol's couch, fidgeting and biting his lips.
"I want to call him. But I can't. I have to fix this first."
"Fix what, Bee? What did you do?"
"This is all my fault. This was my plan."
Chanyeol tapped out a rhythm on his desk. Baekhyun slumped back into the couch and whined high in his throat. "Hey Dobby?"
"Yeah?" Chanyeol responded.
"I think I should just leave. Skip out and move on."
"You know he'd forgive you, right?" Chanyeol asked, sparing a quick glance to the upper level where Jongin sat crouched on the cold floor, listening.
Baekhyun sighed. "That's the problem. He'd forgive me. I don't deserve that. I keep fucking things up."
Chanyeol slammed his fist down into the desk, startling Baekhyun, and Jongin.
"Look, Bees-knees," he said, purposefully raising his voice. "Be a man and go fix your bloody love life. You need to go tell Jongin you're madly in love with him."
"I can't do that. You know I can't."
"It's really easy, Bee. First say I, then follow that up with, am in love with you."
"When I first met him," Baekhyun began, "I just knew he was the perfect mark. For someone like him, getting him to fall in love with me was a cake walk. But, the more I went along with it, the more I didn't want to put on an act. He's such a genuinely great guy that I feel like a dick when I'm with him."
"So are you trying to say that you don't love him?"
The room went silent, and Jongin was ready to run down the stairs and shake Baekhyun by the shoulders.
"I can't be who I am and still have Jongin."
"You're really going to pick money over someone that loves you?" Chanyeol scoffed. "I don't think I've ever been disappointed in you. How long are you going to keep at this?"
"I don't know. But I don't want to hurt Jongin. I just want to go back to how things used to be."
Chanyeol sighed. "Jongin, come down here and punch Bee in the face."
Jongin stood up, walking down the stairs as slowly as possible. Baekhyun gasped, turning around to glare at Chanyeol.
"I can't believe you did this," Baekhyun said.
"Sorry, but I actually like Jongin. I'm actually a little jealous that you got to him first. Unlike you, I would have kept my criminal affairs out of the relationship."
Jongin couldn't look Baekhyun in the eye. He wanted to be upset that Baekhyun lied to him. He wanted to be mad that he was wrong, that Baekhyun would never use him. But mostly he wanted to kiss Baekhyun, ask him if he remembered to eat breakfast. He wanted to run his fingers through Baekhyun's hair, tell him that it had gotten longer.
"Baekhyun," he said. "I want to ask you for a favor."
"What is it?" Baekhyun asked quietly.
"Let me be the one to leave. Finish what you started. I'll pretend I have no clue. But when the time comes, I want to be the one to leave you."
Baekhyun looked confused for a minute before he nodded, looking over at Chanyeol to gauge his reaction.
"Don't be a stranger, Jongin. I know that one over there is an ass, but I have an arsenal of two player shooting games you might enjoy. And booze."
"Thanks, Chanyeol. I appreciate that."
Jongin left with plenty to think about. He would have to take control of his life.
***
"It was implied that when I left, you wouldn't follow me." Jongin expected to wake up each day of his life, watching the clock tick off another second, minute, hour of time spent walking away from Baekhyun.
"It's implied, right now, that I'll always follow you. Now that I've gotten past a few lingering bouts of self-doubt, I can say that I, Baekhyun, am in love with you."
Jongin thought about this moment. In his mind's eye, Baekhyun waited outside his door during the first snowfall. He would start with introducing himself, all pretenses aside.
"So what if you love me?"
"I don't just love you, Jongin," Baekhyun said plainly. "I'm sobbing into my pillow at 4AM in love with you. I'm staring at your picture until my eyes burn in love with you. I'm standing outside of your old apartment screaming at the top of my lungs in love with you. I'm so embarrassed that I could die right now in love with you. Jongin, there's no other way I can say it."
Jongin remembers how many times he's told Baekhyun he loved him. Not with words, but with actions. Late nights staying up late watching Baekhyun sleep. Spending every second missing him, needing him, wanting him. Dreaming of waking up next to him every morning, sleeping next to him every night.
Maybe, he thought, Baekhyun did the same.
"It's probably unhealthy loving someone as capricious as you."
Baekhyun grinned. "Does this mean you forgive me?"
"I've already forgiven you. Don't push your luck though."
Baekhyun sat flush against him, leaning his head on Jongin's shoulder.
"Great, because I gave up two million for you."
"Wow, you really do love me."
"Now we have to have make up sex. That's the next step, obviously."
"I missed you."
"I'm a lot of fun. How about we not breakup anymore?"
"Deal."