WHY DO YOU EVEN NEED A BODYGUARD? for DUQINGZHU
For: duqingzhu
Title: Why do you even need a bodyguard?
Pairing(s): Chanyeol/Chen
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Curse words
Length: 5635w
Summary: When he’s introduced to his charge, he’s expecting someone like a president of a big company or a mafia boss or even Girls’ Generation. What he really gets is a scrawny boy, who’s more or less the same age, and also eating all the complimentary mints in the office.
The interview process is incredibly lengthy, a complete three part series with a demonstration of Chanyeol’s strength. Of course, he passes with flying colors but that’s only to be expected. It’s a live-in position, where he’ll get his own room and food expenses entirely paid for-and it’s not even the best part. The salary is competitive to the salary of a politician’s bodyguard, so despite the vague job description, Chanyeol gives it his all to get the position.
When he’s introduced to his charge, he’s expecting someone like a president of a big company or a mafia boss or even Girls’ Generation. What he really gets is a scrawny boy, who’s more or less the same age, and also eating all the complimentary mints in the office.
“Him?” Chanyeol asks weakly. He gets a firm nod, while his charge gives him a sweet eye smile. Well, it can’t be all that bad. He must be the son of the president of a big company or an incredibly young scientist genius. Chanyeol’s expecting to be wowed by this person, because anyone that can afford a bodyguard or even need one must be pretty special.
“But who is he?”
“You don’t need to know yet.”
Instead, his charge starts jumping on the couch and introduces himself with, “I’m Jongdae, and I’m going to be the next Beyoncé!”
“So, where are we going first?” Chanyeol buckles himself into the car after Jongdae, ready to head off to the airport or some concert venue.
“Your new home; Jongdae’s apartment,” says Jongdae’s manager. He’s imagining some sick looking condo with a great view of the city but what he really gets is some relatively normal looking apartment building with cracked pavement in the front.
“Here?” Chanyeol’s not incredibly rich by any means, but he’s used to having a higher standard of living.
“Here.” At least Jongdae’s managers helps to unload Chanyeol’s luggage out of the trunk before leaving. Jongdae doesn’t look like he would be much help with his chicken limbs that go akimbo every time Gangnam Style or something just as ridiculously dumb sounds on the radio. It would be nice if Jongdae at least offered to help, but he doesn’t.
“Home sweet home,” Jongdae chirps, climbing out of the car to make his way into the building. Chanyeol’s left lugging his luggage up to the second floor apartment by himself.
Chanyeol’s not expecting anything like a big welcome but he’s expecting something better than cereal for dinner. The only explanation that Jongdae offered was that he can’t cook and he’s not allowed to eat takeout too often in case it damages his vocals.
“But I can get takeout right?” He calls Jongdae’s manager expecting an affirmative, only to be told that he’s not allowed to buy anything if Jongdae might get his hands on it. Precautions.
“He’ll eat almost anything, but don’t let him eat anything that has too many empty calories because he’s making his first appearance soon and he has to look good. He’s legal, but you’re not allowed to let him drink either because he can’t hold his liquor very well. Also, don’t let him stay up too late or he’ll be too tired to function during the day. You can at least do that right?”
“Yes but-“
“We’re counting on you,” Jongdae’s manager says before hanging up.
Aside from wondering how he’s supposed to live without pizza or fried chicken, Chanyeol’s bewildered by his newly given tasks. Jongdae isn’t a child. Chanyeol isn’t a babysitter. And yet, it seems like that is exactly what they’re going to be for the duration of Chanyeol’s contract.
Jongdae bounds up to Chanyeol, shaking a blue box in his hands.
“Since today is special, let’s eat Oreo-Os!”
When Chanyeol decided he wanted to be a bodyguard, he imagined something like warding off gorgeous looking groupies or tackling people away from snipes while wearing slick shades and an earpiece. He imagined being cool and making a difference in someone’s life by keeping them safe and alive and they would forever feel indebted to him.
He does not imagine sitting in a small dorm-like apartment for more than two days, sweating his ass off in his boxers because the air conditioning isn’t working. His fingers itch for something to do, but no-he can’t-if he goes anywhere he’s increasing the liability of his charge getting hurt. If his charge gets hurt, he’ll get fired; that’s something he can’t really afford.
“Chanyeol, let’s get some ice cream,” Jongdae whines. They can’t, even though they really want to. They’re not allowed to go anywhere. It’s like being jailed without being in an actual jail cell.
“And then what? Get my balls busted for letting you out?” Chanyeol grumbles, laying on his stomach with his cheek pressed to the floor. Jongdae groans, rolling over to Chanyeol to try to pester him some more.
“No one is going to know,” Jongdae whines, trying to wheedle Chanyeol into letting him out. It pains Chanyeol almost as much as Jongdae-not being let out-because there are things that he would like to do too. Like grabbing a beer, hitting up some hot ladies at a club, or even any other sign of human interaction from anyone other than Jongdae. Anyone.
“You’re trying to get me fired. I can’t do it,” Chanyeol says resolutely, but even he sounds depressed about it. Jongdae whines loudly-he seems to do that a lot-and stalks off to the kitchen to see if he can scourge for popsicles or even ice cubes to help with the heat.
“Do you even do anything besides staying home alone?” Chanyeol honestly doesn’t even know why Jongdae is being guarded when he just seems like any other Average Joe.
He comes back with a pack of frozen vegetables, hugging it to his chest for the coolness it provides. “Of course I do,” Jongdae insists, “I’m going to be the next Beyoncé!” It’s a sad life they’re living. Chanyeol’s tank top is starting to stick to his chest again, and it’s only been a couple hours since his last shower.
Jongdae hands a fan to Chanyeol, sticking close to his body as Chanyeol reluctantly fans the both of them. (“Jesus, it’s too fucking hot, step off man.” “I’m going to die from the heat if you don’t!”) It’s been a slow day, and it doesn’t look like things are going to change.
The day after proves to be slightly more interesting, because they get to go to the company building so Jongdae can get some work done. As what? Chanyeol’s not too sure, but he’s been advised not to ask too many questions. Jongdae is bouncing on the balls of his feet, grin stretching across his face as he goads Chanyeol to wake up early.
“You promised me you would wake up early today! We have somewhere to be! I want to get there early,” Jongdae complains, straddling Chanyeol’s hips and tugging on his arms. Chanyeol’s not much of a morning person, halfheartedly swatting Jongdae away.
“Five more minutes,” Chanyeol says in his scratchy morning voice. Jongdae pouts, because Chanyeol takes forever if there’s no incentive. He gets off and runs out of the door, he’s not allowed outside of the building without Chanyeol anyways so he’s not worried. Chanyeol is just about to fall back to sleep when a bucket of ice water is doused unceremoniously over his head. He’s incredibly cold, but he’s burning with rage. Jongdae takes advantage of his shock to flit away before Chanyeol can grab onto him.
“Rise and shine, sunshine!” Jongdae is annoyingly chipper and that does nothing to quell Chanyeol’s anger. He’s pretty sure he just gets angrier. The only thoughts repeating through Chanyeol’s head are I am going to kill you, but I can’t kill you, but I will kill you, when I can kill you, because I really want to kill you. He peels off his wet comforters and heads off to the bathroom, not before flipping Jongdae off.
“I’m going to make pancakes!” Chanyeol scratches his butt and reaches for his toothbrush, not paying any mind to his charge.
Jongdae can’t cook pancakes. Chanyeol makes an effort to pee faster when the smoke alarm starts ringing. He can’t stop cursing because the one minute he’s caught off guard, his bladder won’t stop.
“Are you okay?!” Jongdae doesn’t answer back directly to Chanyeol, but Chanyeol can hear his screams starting to escalate. Shaking his dick off excess pee usually feels like a second, but it feels like ten seconds with the way Jongdae’s screaming. He runs into the living room, seeing smoke starting to plume from the stove. Chanyeol rips out the batteries from the smoke alarm to stop the incessant ringing before coming to Jongdae’s aid, now that he knows it’s not a life-or-death situation.
Jongdae’s thrusting a bottle of water at the flame, but all it serves to do is make oil splatter and pop from the heated stove. Seeing Chanyeol make his way over, Jongdae scampers off to a safe place behind the couch while Chanyeol turns off the stove with a pair of handy mittens. Waving off the smoke, Chanyeol can see a half gooey and half charred mess.
“Were you trying to bake a cake in that tiny pan? Did you dump all the batter in at once? Do you even think?” Frowning, Chanyeol decides that the pan is not salvageable and works on opening windows instead. Jongdae pouts, helping Chanyeol let in some fresh air.
“I wanted to make those really big and fluffy pancakes you see on cartoons!” Chanyeol lets out a heavy sigh; no wonder they thought Jongdae needed a bodyguard-he’s a danger to himself.
“Are you a child? What the fuck. You said you can’t cook, but you can’t even cook pancakes for yourself?” Jongdae purses his lips, cocking his hips out.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you but I already told you I couldn’t cook! Ah~ I know! Since you’re my bodyguard, maybe you should protect me from myself and volunteer to cook for me instead, right?”
“That’s not in my job description,” Chanyeol grits out. Jongdae taps his finger to his chin thoughtfully, eyeing Chanyeol with a devious little smirk.
“Park Chanyeol, bodyguard extraordinaire. Or should I say Park Chanyeol, ordinary bodyguard who is unable to go above or beyond minimum requirements? What would your next employer think?” Pride is something Chanyeol has a lot of, sometimes it blinds him enough to make him a little irrational.
“Look, you tiny little shit I can bench press twice your weight. That’s what I’m here for, not so I can be some live action Cooking Mama, you hear me?” Chanyeol’s pressed up against Jongdae as intimidatingly as possible, looming over his shorter stature with his palms pressed against the sides of Jongdae’s face. He’s certain Jongdae can see the rippling of his bicep muscles.
Only, Jongdae’s manager opens the door to see if they’re ready yet and closes the door before Chanyeol can even explain what happened. Chanyeol’s ears turn fire truck red; he’s pretty sure the neighbors have heard.
He only has a few minutes to get ready and jam a cap over his bedhead before they have to go. Jongdae sticks close to him, unwilling to leave until he gets a verbal confirmation that Chanyeol isn’t too mad even though he is.
“Chanyeol-sama, almighty handsome and strong namja, please forgive me? We’re okay?” Chanyeol can’t help but crack a small smile at the blatant display of kissing up because it works.
“We’re good.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“For sure?”
“Yes, now stop asking me.”
It’s only when Jongdae has already disappeared into the company building that Chanyeol gets to have a talk with his employer and Jongdae’s manager. Chanyeol gets a good reprimanding about how it’s okay if they end up in a relationship-not that it’s not frowned upon-but they shouldn’t do those things while they’re running on a tight schedule. (And if it’s incredibly urgent, there is an American custom where they tie things onto doorknobs to signal that raunchy events are happening behind doors.)
“It’s not what you think it is,” Chanyeol pleads. Jongdae’s manager raises an eyebrow when Chanyeol continues with, “I think we’re just friends?” He knows that Jongdae’s manager isn’t going to believe him against Jongdae’s words because Jongdae is so sweet and nice and would never even scheme to hurt a fly. “I don’t even like him. Why would I like like him enough to do anything like that with him?” Instead of being impressed, Jongdae’s manager gives him a disappointed frown.
“Okay, mister. If you break his heart, we’re going to have some serious trouble here. We can’t have a depressed Jongdae on our hands, especially if it might affect his work. You know where I’m going with this?”
“But we’re not-“
“Do we have an understanding?”
“I-yeah, we do.”
Chanyeol has never been so mortified in his life to be called out on his professionalism and promises that it will never happen again. He can’t even try to explain himself without sounding like a dick. What are words. He is also forced to promise that he will put a sock on the doorknob if anything does happen, not that it will because Jongdae is an unappealing asshole with a barely there ass.
On the bright side, at least he isn’t fired. Although, he should probably quit just for the sake of his sanity.
Jongdae spends the car ride back poking Chanyeol and pestering his manager for bubble tea or patbingsoo. Chanyeol is thoroughly unamused, and spends fifteen minutes having a shin kicking war with Jongdae before they’re told to stop. (“Honestly. It’s like I’m babysitting kids,” Jongdae’s manager says irritably.)
“Not everyone gets to have whatever they want,” Chanyeol says, sticking his tongue out at Jongdae. Jongdae crosses his arms, sighing heavily.
“I’m a grown adult and I’m being treated like a kid,” Jongdae snaps.
“Maybe because you are one,” Chanyeol shoots back. Jongdae sticks his tongue out at Chanyeol, who reciprocates because he’s the type of person who has to have the last laugh. Jongdae’s pretty glum about not getting a kick for his sweet tooth, but no one relents. It almost makes Chanyeol feel bad, but he has to give himself a pat on his own back for doing his job. By the time they reach back to the small apartment, Jongdae’s throwing a small tantrum. Jongdae brushes off Chanyeol, when he puts a hand on Jongdae’s shoulder.
“Hey, I’m just trying to do my job,” Chanyeol says, aggravated by Jongdae’s actions.
“I never get to do anything,” Jongdae shouts, crossing his arms and stomping his foot angrily before storming inside. Chanyeol has to stand outside and compose himself for a few moments but he lets it go because Jongdae’s just being a diva. Typical idol attitude.
Jongdae sulks, persisting about getting a slushie at least. Chanyeol wisely ignores him and works on cleaning up the kitchen instead. There’s a knock on the door and Chanyeol’s not expecting anyone other than Jongdae’s manager so it comes as a surprise when he sees a shorter man dressed in all black staring up at him.
“Who are you?”
“Kyungsoo-yah!” Jongdae pushes Chanyeol aside, giving a big hug to the man standing by the doorway. Kyungsoo just gives Chanyeol a smirk, walking inside with Jongdae attached to his arm while Chanyeol watches flabbergasted.
“Hey, you’re not allowed to have guests without permission,” Chanyeol says, trying to tug Kyungsoo away. Jongdae swats Chanyeol’s hand away, forcefully removing Chanyeol away from Kyungsoo.
“That’s not nice, besides, Kyungsoo’s my friend since a long time ago! Don’t you know how boring it is when I can’t do anything all day? Can’t we just hang out for a few hours? Please?” Jongdae bats his eyelashes at Chanyeol, covering Kyungsoo with his body. Kyungsoo lets out a sigh, grudgingly allowing himself to be trapped under Jongdae because they’re friends.
“Only for a little bit,” Chanyeol says hesitantly, already regretting his decision. It didn’t seem like Jongdae would have taken no for an answer anyways.
“Chanyeol, you’re the best. Really, you’re number one! The best bodyguard I’ve ever had,” Jongdae proclaims, stroking Chanyeol’s ego. Jongdae nudges Kyungsoo, eyes flickering between the both of them.
Tonelessly, Kyungsoo gives Chanyeol a thumbs up and says, “The best.” Satisfied, Chanyeol allows them to hang out and retreats to his room to give them some privacy. He takes this time to call up his own friend Baekhyun and quietly complain about how boring his job is.
“It’s like a babysitting gig but it is hella good money,” Chanyeol insists. Baekhyun’s voice sounds out crackled over the phone line, sounding bored and Chanyeol can hear him smashing his keyboard keys rapidly.
“Some babysitter you are, letting your kid out of your sight and letting them play you like a fool,” Baekhyun chortles. Chanyeol frowns because that’s not what’s happening. Chanyeol just happens to be benevolent and he’s about to say just that to Baekhyun when he hears Jongdae and Kyungsoo speaking through his door. Kyungsoo might be relatively quiet, but Jongdae couldn’t be quiet if his life depended on it.
“Seriously, I can’t go anywhere and it’s so boring and Chanyeol is so boring. Did you know all he does is work out and look at himself in the mirror? He’s a complete muscle head moron. This morning he was telling me he could bench press two of me! Do I look like someone that would care? Then I stroked his ego a few times and he forgave me for almost burning down the kitchen.” He hears Kyungsoo quietly laughing with Jongdae and he’s pretty sure he’s just pissed but he can’t help the feeling of hurt that biles up at Jongdae’s words.
Whenever Jongdae tries to joke with him now, Chanyeol can’t help but hear Jongdae’s words replay over and over in his head. Instead of laughing or teasing Jongdae for his bad humor, Chanyeol’s face falls. The worst part is that Jongdae honestly feels like he’s done nothing wrong. Chanyeol wants to tell him but at the same time, he wants Jongdae to realize it for himself.
It’s an irrational kind of upset where Chanyeol wants to tell Jongdae because he doesn’t get it, but if Chanyeol tells Jongdae then he can already see Jongdae trying to throw praises at him and think it’ll get Chanyeol to forgive him. So when Jongdae puts a concerned hand on his arm and asks, “Is everything alright?”
Chanyeol shrugs him off roughly, “Everything’s fine.” Except it’s not really fine because Chanyeol is the only person Jongdae’s allowed to freely interact with and Chanyeol can’t look at him without feeling anger. Professionalism be dammed.
Only not really. Jongdae’s manager calls Chanyeol out on his bad attitude and Chanyeol really wants to reply with something as stupid as but he started it first but he bites back his words.
“I will put in a better effort,” Chanyeol says, and that’s dubiously enough for the pestering to stop. Only, instead of letting it go, he lets the negative feelings fester until he’s a dark cloud of negativity.
When Jongdae sees Chanyeol in the lobby, he gives a small wave and smiles brightly when Chanyeol returns his wave. That’s when he decides they should talk it out and be reasonable adults. So he motions for Jongdae to follow him to a secluded hallway of the building, sitting down on the cold linoleum. Gesturing to the space in front of him, Chanyeol waits for
“Look, I know what you said to Kyungsoo about me and you should know that you’re a fucking asshole.” Jongdae looks surprised, mouth dropping in a silent ‘o’ before giving Chanyeol a sheepish smile.
“Sorry? What do you want me to say?”
“I just want you to say it like you mean it,” Chanyeol says, already aggravated.
“But I meant what I said,” Jongdae says stubbornly.
“What did I do to deserve it? Why can’t you just try to let me do my job?”
“And why can’t I have a slice of pizza? Why can’t I have some bubble tea? Why can’t I see my friends? Why can’t I do anything?”
“Because you’re not allowed!”
“I can’t even do things that normal people are allowed to do and you are just letting it happen because you’re getting paid to do it! Instead of calling you a moron, should I just call you inhumane instead?”
“I’m just doing-fuck, okay-what do you want me to do? Stop doing my job? Or is this another manipulation thing? I don’t want to do this with you anymore. Just? Can’t you just listen to what people tell you to do and make my life a little easier?”
Jongdae frowns, looking genuinely disappointed in Chanyeol as he gets up. “You’re asking me to give up a lot just so your life can be a little easier. Think about that.”
Later that night, Chanyeol cooks dinner because Jongdae holes himself up in his room and doesn’t want to come out. It’s a time of reflecting, and he supposes maybe he hasn’t been the nicest person in the world and maybe he was just a little salty about how his job wasn’t what he wanted it to be. Making up his mind to get Jongdae to forgive him, Chanyeol decides to make something a little more special than microwavable meals for dinner. He makes samgyupsal with rice, knocking on Jongdae’s door when the food is set on the table.
“Jongdae, dinner’s ready? Want to come out?” He’s met with silence. Chanyeol pauses, hoping that maybe Jongdae would leave the room and leave the past behind once he had a taste of Chanyeol’s home cooking.
“You know they’re just doing this because they have really high expectations right? But I guess the bad thing about having high expectations is that it’s so hard to live up to things like that right? But I’ll try to talk to them if you come out.” He can feel his ears burning, trying to have a serious talk to a door.
“Jongdae?” No answer. Chanyeol knocks on the door again and Jongdae doesn’t even yell at him to go away.
“Jongdae? Can I come in? Don’t answer if I can come in.” Chanyeol waits five seconds before he opens the door.
Jongdae’s not inside his room and he’s not anywhere in the apartment. Period. The only other thing not in Jongdae’s room is his bed sheets.
“What the fuck does he think he’s doing,” Chanyeol mutters under his breath. The window to Jongdae’s room on the second floor of the apartment building is wide open and Jongdae’s ripped up bed sheets billow in a straight line down to the first floor.
It takes two seconds for Chanyeol to storm out of the apartment after jamming on his shoes. His mind is racing with all the possibilities of all the things that could possibly happen to Jongdae. The worst case scenario pops into his mind and it only spurs him to run faster.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
It’s almost exactly how it plays out in his head; he finds Jongdae backed up in an alleyway, being unnaturally quiet while he’s being taunted and jeered at. Jongdae is visibly trembling, but keeps his head high. And yeah, okay Chanyeol can let them off with a really threatening warning but then one of them has the audacity to throw Jongdae to the floor and step on him. And that’s how Chanyeol finds himself throwing a fist at the first person he sees. Chanyeol hides Jongdae with his body, lashing out at anyone that comes too close. It’s an all-out brawl that Chanyeol manages to win with a busted lip and bloodied knuckles as his valiant battle scars.
Jongdae guiltily tugs at Chanyeol’s sleeve, eyes brimming with worry. His face is a little scratched up and his body a little bruised but it’s nothing compared to how Chanyeol looks. And yet, he knows he’s going to get into so much shit for this. Chanyeol refuses to let Jongdae touch him, giving Jongdae the stink eye. He can’t even look at Jongdae for more than two minutes without wanting to deck some sense into him.
“Why do you have to cause so much trouble? Do you want to get me fired because I can’t give you what you want? Is that was this is? Fuck. And here I was-trying to make it up to you-and you pull this kind of shit on me.” Chanyeol’s voice trembles, trying to stay calm enough not to yell and make a scene but his anger is boiling over in waves.
“I didn’t want to do anything bad,” Jongdae mumbles tentatively, “I just wanted to get some fresh air and-”
“You want this. You want that. Do you ever stop to think about someone other than yourself?”
Jongdae looks so sad and sorry that Chanyeol immediately regrets it, but his tongue feels heavy and he ends up saying nothing. Jongdae’s not wrong but Chanyeol’s not wrong and no one’s right and it’s just complicated. There’s a moment of awkward silence before Chanyeol inhales and slouches over.
“Are you really angry?”
“No. Yes. No. Okay, yes but I can see where you’re coming from and I guess I can’t blame you.” Jongdae beams at Chanyeol, glad that he’s finally getting somewhere.
“So, Chanyeol-sama,” Jongdae says teasingly, “are we going to go home now?”
For once, Jongdae seems like he actually wants to go home but Chanyeol laughs hollowly.
“We’re not. I didn’t bring my wallet or my keys,” Chanyeol says, watching Jongdae’s smile falter.
“That’s okay, I have my wallet,” Jongdae says, hesitating when he says, “but I didn’t bring my keys either.” So basically they’re fucked but that’s okay because that means no matter what course of action that Chanyeol decides to take, it won’t matter.
“Do you trust me?”
“No?”
“Too bad, you’re shit out of luck.” Chanyeol turns around, already starting to walk off when Jongdae runs up and attaches himself to Chanyeol’s arm. He can’t help the small smile that blooms on his face.
They end up in a small café spot in Seoul, live music playing softly to create a nice sort of ambience that Jongdae has to stop to bask in. “Wow, how did you know about this place? I won’t buy you anything that costs more than 1000 won,” Jongdae says.
Chanyeol scoffs, waving at the older looking man behind the bar. “I’m going to order anything that’s over 2000 won,” he says just to see the scared look on Jongdae’s face.
“Chanyeol-sama, almighty handsome and strong namja? I thought we were good!” Jongdae does his best attempt at aegyo, wriggling up to Chanyeol’s side. Chanyeol blushes, trying to prevent Jongdae from wriggling anywhere that would make the situation incredibly awkward.
“Hey! I just saved your ass and you’re being stingy?” Jongdae pauses, nodding shamelessly.
Chanyeol stretches Jongdae’s cheeks out until it’s slightly painful, just to hear him whine. “I wasn’t going to make you pay anyways. You could say I know the owners.”
The man by the bar walks up to them, throwing an arm around Chanyeol. “It’s good to see you again,” he says happily. Jongdae looks at them in confusion, face frozen in a confused half-smile.
“Hey dad,” Chanyeol says, smiling warmly. Jongdae bows in a 90 degree angle, flustered and holds out his hand as politely as possible.
“Hello Chanyeol’s dad, I’m Jongdae. I’m Chanyeol’s friend,” Jongdae says shyly. His handshake is taken and he also gets pulled into a hug because any friend of Chanyeol’s is practically family.
They get treated to hot coffee and food to warm themselves until closing. (“Chanyeol hasn’t brought his friends home in a while, why don’t you guys stay the night?”)
“Your father owns this place?” Jongdae’s head keeps turning so much Chanyeol wonders if it’s about to fall off.
“Yeah, he does. Want to see something cool?” Jongdae nods excitedly, making loud noises of exclamation as Chanyeol shows Jongdae the framed guitars-some of which belonged to him.
“You can play?” Jongdae looks honestly impressed with Chanyeol when Chanyeol tells him all the instruments he can play.
Then Chanyeol takes it up a notch when he tells Jongdae to sit in the front while he chooses a guitar and walks up to the open mic, taking a seat. Jongdae’s unable to do anything other than stare while Chanyeol plays a song-and then he sings.
They’re lying in Chanyeol’s old bed, probably too cramped to fit two people but they make do. There are badly pasted plasters on the both of them and they giggle at what they can make out of each other’s faces in the dark.
“So, how was my performance?” Chanyeol’s so smug when Jongdae launches into a reverent explanation of how much he liked it.
“Seriously, my heart fluttered. You were so good. I liked it so much,” Jongdae says, sighing happily.
“Then sing something for me,” Chanyeol says, propping his chin with his palm. Jongdae pauses, mentally scrolling through a list of songs in his head and singing a soft ballad. Jongdae’s loud, but not as noisy when he sings. Chanyeol feels entirely too impressed with Jongdae despite his bad impression. Jongdae’s face is full of emotions, as if he’s experiencing everything that’s happening within the song.
Before Jongdae can finish, Chanyeol finds himself leaning in and stealing the last notes with his lips. It’s a brief kiss, barely-there brush of their lips, but it steals Jongdae’s words away. They stare at each other until Jongdae hides his face in Chanyeol’s chest, but Chanyeol’s not worried because he can feel Jongdae’s smile.
“I still have a lot to learn though,” Jongdae says bashfully. Chanyeol flicks his nose, smiling fondly when Jongdae clutches his nose and whines.
“You’re the next Beyoncé,” Chanyeol says teasingly. Jongdae blushes, murmuring denials and other incoherent commentaries until he becomes sleepy. Chanyeol threads their hands together and falls asleep like that.
Jongdae pesters Chanyeol in the morning until he wakes up with a grumpy frown and wraps Jongdae into a human burrito so he can’t move. Vengeance is great. It’s almost like nothing’s changed except Jongdae insists on playing footsies at the breakfast table. He’s served large servings of almost cake-like pancakes courtesy of Mama Park, who took a liking to his kitten-like features immediately because they’re a family of animal-lovers. (“Of course, I’m more of a dog person.” “Chanyeol, stop being mean to Jongdae!”)
Despite their reconciliation, they still get an earful from management the next day when they open the door to the apartment and find no one inside. The food is still laid out on the table, meat cold and dry while the rice has already formed a layer of hardness.
Chanyeol gets an earful when Jongdae’s manager sees Jongdae’s face scratched up but Jongdae insists that Chanyeol was the best [bodyguard] he’s ever had.
“Chanyeol, do you have anything to say for yourself?” Chanyeol looks even worse than Jongdae, so he’s not sure why they’re not asking anything about his own welfare. Jongdae shoots him a pout, clutching onto his hand.
Scratching his head, he shrugs his shoulders. “Um… we’re into BDSM?” Jongdae chokes back his own laughter and fails to hide it under a laughing fit. On the bright side, no further questions were asked.
Chanyeol gets to keep his job, only because Jongdae won’t accept anyone else because it’s kind of a big deal that Chanyeol has really nice hands to hold and it quells Jongdae’s wanderlust enough to keep him home long enough to keep the agency happy. (You can hold hands anywhere, Jongdae finds. Like, when you’re sitting on the kitchen counter, watching Chanyeol stir a pot of ramen with his other hand. Or when you’re just about to go to sleep at night and you want that feeling of contentment to wash over. Or even when Chanyeol’s in the middle of using the restroom-Jongdae is not allowed to do that, by the way.) It’s too early for them to be proclaiming their love for each other or give each other pet names, but it’s nice to start slow.
One month later
As it turns out, Jongdae’s more important than Chanyeol originally thought him to be. He’s not just some rookie with a nice voice trying to be an idol. Jongdae may be Korean, but he is one of China’s songbird, set to sing the national anthem at one of the biggest galas where many of the world’s representatives will come to dine and discuss political matters. It’s also where Jongdae will make his first public Korean debut.
Chen has always been the alias he has used for putting out his music. He’s never gone on any variety shows, staged any concerts, or ever given any clues as to who he might be. There’s an appeal to a singer without a face, but it seems more like a gimmick to Chanyeol. At first he felt that it’s almost stupid how Jongdae’s record company had thought that he would need a bodyguard when no one even knew who he was. After seeing Jongdae sing his heart out live, and having his own heart feel like it’s trying to claw its way up his throat, he can definitely see why.
When Jongdae finishes his last high note and ends the song, he looks over to Chanyeol and gives him a bright grin. Chanyeol has never clapped harder for anyone in his life.
Final author's note: I don't think this is what you were expecting but I hope you enjoyed it anyways! ;;;
Title: Why do you even need a bodyguard?
Pairing(s): Chanyeol/Chen
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Curse words
Length: 5635w
Summary: When he’s introduced to his charge, he’s expecting someone like a president of a big company or a mafia boss or even Girls’ Generation. What he really gets is a scrawny boy, who’s more or less the same age, and also eating all the complimentary mints in the office.
The interview process is incredibly lengthy, a complete three part series with a demonstration of Chanyeol’s strength. Of course, he passes with flying colors but that’s only to be expected. It’s a live-in position, where he’ll get his own room and food expenses entirely paid for-and it’s not even the best part. The salary is competitive to the salary of a politician’s bodyguard, so despite the vague job description, Chanyeol gives it his all to get the position.
When he’s introduced to his charge, he’s expecting someone like a president of a big company or a mafia boss or even Girls’ Generation. What he really gets is a scrawny boy, who’s more or less the same age, and also eating all the complimentary mints in the office.
“Him?” Chanyeol asks weakly. He gets a firm nod, while his charge gives him a sweet eye smile. Well, it can’t be all that bad. He must be the son of the president of a big company or an incredibly young scientist genius. Chanyeol’s expecting to be wowed by this person, because anyone that can afford a bodyguard or even need one must be pretty special.
“But who is he?”
“You don’t need to know yet.”
Instead, his charge starts jumping on the couch and introduces himself with, “I’m Jongdae, and I’m going to be the next Beyoncé!”
“So, where are we going first?” Chanyeol buckles himself into the car after Jongdae, ready to head off to the airport or some concert venue.
“Your new home; Jongdae’s apartment,” says Jongdae’s manager. He’s imagining some sick looking condo with a great view of the city but what he really gets is some relatively normal looking apartment building with cracked pavement in the front.
“Here?” Chanyeol’s not incredibly rich by any means, but he’s used to having a higher standard of living.
“Here.” At least Jongdae’s managers helps to unload Chanyeol’s luggage out of the trunk before leaving. Jongdae doesn’t look like he would be much help with his chicken limbs that go akimbo every time Gangnam Style or something just as ridiculously dumb sounds on the radio. It would be nice if Jongdae at least offered to help, but he doesn’t.
“Home sweet home,” Jongdae chirps, climbing out of the car to make his way into the building. Chanyeol’s left lugging his luggage up to the second floor apartment by himself.
Chanyeol’s not expecting anything like a big welcome but he’s expecting something better than cereal for dinner. The only explanation that Jongdae offered was that he can’t cook and he’s not allowed to eat takeout too often in case it damages his vocals.
“But I can get takeout right?” He calls Jongdae’s manager expecting an affirmative, only to be told that he’s not allowed to buy anything if Jongdae might get his hands on it. Precautions.
“He’ll eat almost anything, but don’t let him eat anything that has too many empty calories because he’s making his first appearance soon and he has to look good. He’s legal, but you’re not allowed to let him drink either because he can’t hold his liquor very well. Also, don’t let him stay up too late or he’ll be too tired to function during the day. You can at least do that right?”
“Yes but-“
“We’re counting on you,” Jongdae’s manager says before hanging up.
Aside from wondering how he’s supposed to live without pizza or fried chicken, Chanyeol’s bewildered by his newly given tasks. Jongdae isn’t a child. Chanyeol isn’t a babysitter. And yet, it seems like that is exactly what they’re going to be for the duration of Chanyeol’s contract.
Jongdae bounds up to Chanyeol, shaking a blue box in his hands.
“Since today is special, let’s eat Oreo-Os!”
When Chanyeol decided he wanted to be a bodyguard, he imagined something like warding off gorgeous looking groupies or tackling people away from snipes while wearing slick shades and an earpiece. He imagined being cool and making a difference in someone’s life by keeping them safe and alive and they would forever feel indebted to him.
He does not imagine sitting in a small dorm-like apartment for more than two days, sweating his ass off in his boxers because the air conditioning isn’t working. His fingers itch for something to do, but no-he can’t-if he goes anywhere he’s increasing the liability of his charge getting hurt. If his charge gets hurt, he’ll get fired; that’s something he can’t really afford.
“Chanyeol, let’s get some ice cream,” Jongdae whines. They can’t, even though they really want to. They’re not allowed to go anywhere. It’s like being jailed without being in an actual jail cell.
“And then what? Get my balls busted for letting you out?” Chanyeol grumbles, laying on his stomach with his cheek pressed to the floor. Jongdae groans, rolling over to Chanyeol to try to pester him some more.
“No one is going to know,” Jongdae whines, trying to wheedle Chanyeol into letting him out. It pains Chanyeol almost as much as Jongdae-not being let out-because there are things that he would like to do too. Like grabbing a beer, hitting up some hot ladies at a club, or even any other sign of human interaction from anyone other than Jongdae. Anyone.
“You’re trying to get me fired. I can’t do it,” Chanyeol says resolutely, but even he sounds depressed about it. Jongdae whines loudly-he seems to do that a lot-and stalks off to the kitchen to see if he can scourge for popsicles or even ice cubes to help with the heat.
“Do you even do anything besides staying home alone?” Chanyeol honestly doesn’t even know why Jongdae is being guarded when he just seems like any other Average Joe.
He comes back with a pack of frozen vegetables, hugging it to his chest for the coolness it provides. “Of course I do,” Jongdae insists, “I’m going to be the next Beyoncé!” It’s a sad life they’re living. Chanyeol’s tank top is starting to stick to his chest again, and it’s only been a couple hours since his last shower.
Jongdae hands a fan to Chanyeol, sticking close to his body as Chanyeol reluctantly fans the both of them. (“Jesus, it’s too fucking hot, step off man.” “I’m going to die from the heat if you don’t!”) It’s been a slow day, and it doesn’t look like things are going to change.
The day after proves to be slightly more interesting, because they get to go to the company building so Jongdae can get some work done. As what? Chanyeol’s not too sure, but he’s been advised not to ask too many questions. Jongdae is bouncing on the balls of his feet, grin stretching across his face as he goads Chanyeol to wake up early.
“You promised me you would wake up early today! We have somewhere to be! I want to get there early,” Jongdae complains, straddling Chanyeol’s hips and tugging on his arms. Chanyeol’s not much of a morning person, halfheartedly swatting Jongdae away.
“Five more minutes,” Chanyeol says in his scratchy morning voice. Jongdae pouts, because Chanyeol takes forever if there’s no incentive. He gets off and runs out of the door, he’s not allowed outside of the building without Chanyeol anyways so he’s not worried. Chanyeol is just about to fall back to sleep when a bucket of ice water is doused unceremoniously over his head. He’s incredibly cold, but he’s burning with rage. Jongdae takes advantage of his shock to flit away before Chanyeol can grab onto him.
“Rise and shine, sunshine!” Jongdae is annoyingly chipper and that does nothing to quell Chanyeol’s anger. He’s pretty sure he just gets angrier. The only thoughts repeating through Chanyeol’s head are I am going to kill you, but I can’t kill you, but I will kill you, when I can kill you, because I really want to kill you. He peels off his wet comforters and heads off to the bathroom, not before flipping Jongdae off.
“I’m going to make pancakes!” Chanyeol scratches his butt and reaches for his toothbrush, not paying any mind to his charge.
Jongdae can’t cook pancakes. Chanyeol makes an effort to pee faster when the smoke alarm starts ringing. He can’t stop cursing because the one minute he’s caught off guard, his bladder won’t stop.
“Are you okay?!” Jongdae doesn’t answer back directly to Chanyeol, but Chanyeol can hear his screams starting to escalate. Shaking his dick off excess pee usually feels like a second, but it feels like ten seconds with the way Jongdae’s screaming. He runs into the living room, seeing smoke starting to plume from the stove. Chanyeol rips out the batteries from the smoke alarm to stop the incessant ringing before coming to Jongdae’s aid, now that he knows it’s not a life-or-death situation.
Jongdae’s thrusting a bottle of water at the flame, but all it serves to do is make oil splatter and pop from the heated stove. Seeing Chanyeol make his way over, Jongdae scampers off to a safe place behind the couch while Chanyeol turns off the stove with a pair of handy mittens. Waving off the smoke, Chanyeol can see a half gooey and half charred mess.
“Were you trying to bake a cake in that tiny pan? Did you dump all the batter in at once? Do you even think?” Frowning, Chanyeol decides that the pan is not salvageable and works on opening windows instead. Jongdae pouts, helping Chanyeol let in some fresh air.
“I wanted to make those really big and fluffy pancakes you see on cartoons!” Chanyeol lets out a heavy sigh; no wonder they thought Jongdae needed a bodyguard-he’s a danger to himself.
“Are you a child? What the fuck. You said you can’t cook, but you can’t even cook pancakes for yourself?” Jongdae purses his lips, cocking his hips out.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you but I already told you I couldn’t cook! Ah~ I know! Since you’re my bodyguard, maybe you should protect me from myself and volunteer to cook for me instead, right?”
“That’s not in my job description,” Chanyeol grits out. Jongdae taps his finger to his chin thoughtfully, eyeing Chanyeol with a devious little smirk.
“Park Chanyeol, bodyguard extraordinaire. Or should I say Park Chanyeol, ordinary bodyguard who is unable to go above or beyond minimum requirements? What would your next employer think?” Pride is something Chanyeol has a lot of, sometimes it blinds him enough to make him a little irrational.
“Look, you tiny little shit I can bench press twice your weight. That’s what I’m here for, not so I can be some live action Cooking Mama, you hear me?” Chanyeol’s pressed up against Jongdae as intimidatingly as possible, looming over his shorter stature with his palms pressed against the sides of Jongdae’s face. He’s certain Jongdae can see the rippling of his bicep muscles.
Only, Jongdae’s manager opens the door to see if they’re ready yet and closes the door before Chanyeol can even explain what happened. Chanyeol’s ears turn fire truck red; he’s pretty sure the neighbors have heard.
He only has a few minutes to get ready and jam a cap over his bedhead before they have to go. Jongdae sticks close to him, unwilling to leave until he gets a verbal confirmation that Chanyeol isn’t too mad even though he is.
“Chanyeol-sama, almighty handsome and strong namja, please forgive me? We’re okay?” Chanyeol can’t help but crack a small smile at the blatant display of kissing up because it works.
“We’re good.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“For sure?”
“Yes, now stop asking me.”
It’s only when Jongdae has already disappeared into the company building that Chanyeol gets to have a talk with his employer and Jongdae’s manager. Chanyeol gets a good reprimanding about how it’s okay if they end up in a relationship-not that it’s not frowned upon-but they shouldn’t do those things while they’re running on a tight schedule. (And if it’s incredibly urgent, there is an American custom where they tie things onto doorknobs to signal that raunchy events are happening behind doors.)
“It’s not what you think it is,” Chanyeol pleads. Jongdae’s manager raises an eyebrow when Chanyeol continues with, “I think we’re just friends?” He knows that Jongdae’s manager isn’t going to believe him against Jongdae’s words because Jongdae is so sweet and nice and would never even scheme to hurt a fly. “I don’t even like him. Why would I like like him enough to do anything like that with him?” Instead of being impressed, Jongdae’s manager gives him a disappointed frown.
“Okay, mister. If you break his heart, we’re going to have some serious trouble here. We can’t have a depressed Jongdae on our hands, especially if it might affect his work. You know where I’m going with this?”
“But we’re not-“
“Do we have an understanding?”
“I-yeah, we do.”
Chanyeol has never been so mortified in his life to be called out on his professionalism and promises that it will never happen again. He can’t even try to explain himself without sounding like a dick. What are words. He is also forced to promise that he will put a sock on the doorknob if anything does happen, not that it will because Jongdae is an unappealing asshole with a barely there ass.
On the bright side, at least he isn’t fired. Although, he should probably quit just for the sake of his sanity.
Jongdae spends the car ride back poking Chanyeol and pestering his manager for bubble tea or patbingsoo. Chanyeol is thoroughly unamused, and spends fifteen minutes having a shin kicking war with Jongdae before they’re told to stop. (“Honestly. It’s like I’m babysitting kids,” Jongdae’s manager says irritably.)
“Not everyone gets to have whatever they want,” Chanyeol says, sticking his tongue out at Jongdae. Jongdae crosses his arms, sighing heavily.
“I’m a grown adult and I’m being treated like a kid,” Jongdae snaps.
“Maybe because you are one,” Chanyeol shoots back. Jongdae sticks his tongue out at Chanyeol, who reciprocates because he’s the type of person who has to have the last laugh. Jongdae’s pretty glum about not getting a kick for his sweet tooth, but no one relents. It almost makes Chanyeol feel bad, but he has to give himself a pat on his own back for doing his job. By the time they reach back to the small apartment, Jongdae’s throwing a small tantrum. Jongdae brushes off Chanyeol, when he puts a hand on Jongdae’s shoulder.
“Hey, I’m just trying to do my job,” Chanyeol says, aggravated by Jongdae’s actions.
“I never get to do anything,” Jongdae shouts, crossing his arms and stomping his foot angrily before storming inside. Chanyeol has to stand outside and compose himself for a few moments but he lets it go because Jongdae’s just being a diva. Typical idol attitude.
Jongdae sulks, persisting about getting a slushie at least. Chanyeol wisely ignores him and works on cleaning up the kitchen instead. There’s a knock on the door and Chanyeol’s not expecting anyone other than Jongdae’s manager so it comes as a surprise when he sees a shorter man dressed in all black staring up at him.
“Who are you?”
“Kyungsoo-yah!” Jongdae pushes Chanyeol aside, giving a big hug to the man standing by the doorway. Kyungsoo just gives Chanyeol a smirk, walking inside with Jongdae attached to his arm while Chanyeol watches flabbergasted.
“Hey, you’re not allowed to have guests without permission,” Chanyeol says, trying to tug Kyungsoo away. Jongdae swats Chanyeol’s hand away, forcefully removing Chanyeol away from Kyungsoo.
“That’s not nice, besides, Kyungsoo’s my friend since a long time ago! Don’t you know how boring it is when I can’t do anything all day? Can’t we just hang out for a few hours? Please?” Jongdae bats his eyelashes at Chanyeol, covering Kyungsoo with his body. Kyungsoo lets out a sigh, grudgingly allowing himself to be trapped under Jongdae because they’re friends.
“Only for a little bit,” Chanyeol says hesitantly, already regretting his decision. It didn’t seem like Jongdae would have taken no for an answer anyways.
“Chanyeol, you’re the best. Really, you’re number one! The best bodyguard I’ve ever had,” Jongdae proclaims, stroking Chanyeol’s ego. Jongdae nudges Kyungsoo, eyes flickering between the both of them.
Tonelessly, Kyungsoo gives Chanyeol a thumbs up and says, “The best.” Satisfied, Chanyeol allows them to hang out and retreats to his room to give them some privacy. He takes this time to call up his own friend Baekhyun and quietly complain about how boring his job is.
“It’s like a babysitting gig but it is hella good money,” Chanyeol insists. Baekhyun’s voice sounds out crackled over the phone line, sounding bored and Chanyeol can hear him smashing his keyboard keys rapidly.
“Some babysitter you are, letting your kid out of your sight and letting them play you like a fool,” Baekhyun chortles. Chanyeol frowns because that’s not what’s happening. Chanyeol just happens to be benevolent and he’s about to say just that to Baekhyun when he hears Jongdae and Kyungsoo speaking through his door. Kyungsoo might be relatively quiet, but Jongdae couldn’t be quiet if his life depended on it.
“Seriously, I can’t go anywhere and it’s so boring and Chanyeol is so boring. Did you know all he does is work out and look at himself in the mirror? He’s a complete muscle head moron. This morning he was telling me he could bench press two of me! Do I look like someone that would care? Then I stroked his ego a few times and he forgave me for almost burning down the kitchen.” He hears Kyungsoo quietly laughing with Jongdae and he’s pretty sure he’s just pissed but he can’t help the feeling of hurt that biles up at Jongdae’s words.
Whenever Jongdae tries to joke with him now, Chanyeol can’t help but hear Jongdae’s words replay over and over in his head. Instead of laughing or teasing Jongdae for his bad humor, Chanyeol’s face falls. The worst part is that Jongdae honestly feels like he’s done nothing wrong. Chanyeol wants to tell him but at the same time, he wants Jongdae to realize it for himself.
It’s an irrational kind of upset where Chanyeol wants to tell Jongdae because he doesn’t get it, but if Chanyeol tells Jongdae then he can already see Jongdae trying to throw praises at him and think it’ll get Chanyeol to forgive him. So when Jongdae puts a concerned hand on his arm and asks, “Is everything alright?”
Chanyeol shrugs him off roughly, “Everything’s fine.” Except it’s not really fine because Chanyeol is the only person Jongdae’s allowed to freely interact with and Chanyeol can’t look at him without feeling anger. Professionalism be dammed.
Only not really. Jongdae’s manager calls Chanyeol out on his bad attitude and Chanyeol really wants to reply with something as stupid as but he started it first but he bites back his words.
“I will put in a better effort,” Chanyeol says, and that’s dubiously enough for the pestering to stop. Only, instead of letting it go, he lets the negative feelings fester until he’s a dark cloud of negativity.
When Jongdae sees Chanyeol in the lobby, he gives a small wave and smiles brightly when Chanyeol returns his wave. That’s when he decides they should talk it out and be reasonable adults. So he motions for Jongdae to follow him to a secluded hallway of the building, sitting down on the cold linoleum. Gesturing to the space in front of him, Chanyeol waits for
“Look, I know what you said to Kyungsoo about me and you should know that you’re a fucking asshole.” Jongdae looks surprised, mouth dropping in a silent ‘o’ before giving Chanyeol a sheepish smile.
“Sorry? What do you want me to say?”
“I just want you to say it like you mean it,” Chanyeol says, already aggravated.
“But I meant what I said,” Jongdae says stubbornly.
“What did I do to deserve it? Why can’t you just try to let me do my job?”
“And why can’t I have a slice of pizza? Why can’t I have some bubble tea? Why can’t I see my friends? Why can’t I do anything?”
“Because you’re not allowed!”
“I can’t even do things that normal people are allowed to do and you are just letting it happen because you’re getting paid to do it! Instead of calling you a moron, should I just call you inhumane instead?”
“I’m just doing-fuck, okay-what do you want me to do? Stop doing my job? Or is this another manipulation thing? I don’t want to do this with you anymore. Just? Can’t you just listen to what people tell you to do and make my life a little easier?”
Jongdae frowns, looking genuinely disappointed in Chanyeol as he gets up. “You’re asking me to give up a lot just so your life can be a little easier. Think about that.”
Later that night, Chanyeol cooks dinner because Jongdae holes himself up in his room and doesn’t want to come out. It’s a time of reflecting, and he supposes maybe he hasn’t been the nicest person in the world and maybe he was just a little salty about how his job wasn’t what he wanted it to be. Making up his mind to get Jongdae to forgive him, Chanyeol decides to make something a little more special than microwavable meals for dinner. He makes samgyupsal with rice, knocking on Jongdae’s door when the food is set on the table.
“Jongdae, dinner’s ready? Want to come out?” He’s met with silence. Chanyeol pauses, hoping that maybe Jongdae would leave the room and leave the past behind once he had a taste of Chanyeol’s home cooking.
“You know they’re just doing this because they have really high expectations right? But I guess the bad thing about having high expectations is that it’s so hard to live up to things like that right? But I’ll try to talk to them if you come out.” He can feel his ears burning, trying to have a serious talk to a door.
“Jongdae?” No answer. Chanyeol knocks on the door again and Jongdae doesn’t even yell at him to go away.
“Jongdae? Can I come in? Don’t answer if I can come in.” Chanyeol waits five seconds before he opens the door.
Jongdae’s not inside his room and he’s not anywhere in the apartment. Period. The only other thing not in Jongdae’s room is his bed sheets.
“What the fuck does he think he’s doing,” Chanyeol mutters under his breath. The window to Jongdae’s room on the second floor of the apartment building is wide open and Jongdae’s ripped up bed sheets billow in a straight line down to the first floor.
It takes two seconds for Chanyeol to storm out of the apartment after jamming on his shoes. His mind is racing with all the possibilities of all the things that could possibly happen to Jongdae. The worst case scenario pops into his mind and it only spurs him to run faster.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
It’s almost exactly how it plays out in his head; he finds Jongdae backed up in an alleyway, being unnaturally quiet while he’s being taunted and jeered at. Jongdae is visibly trembling, but keeps his head high. And yeah, okay Chanyeol can let them off with a really threatening warning but then one of them has the audacity to throw Jongdae to the floor and step on him. And that’s how Chanyeol finds himself throwing a fist at the first person he sees. Chanyeol hides Jongdae with his body, lashing out at anyone that comes too close. It’s an all-out brawl that Chanyeol manages to win with a busted lip and bloodied knuckles as his valiant battle scars.
Jongdae guiltily tugs at Chanyeol’s sleeve, eyes brimming with worry. His face is a little scratched up and his body a little bruised but it’s nothing compared to how Chanyeol looks. And yet, he knows he’s going to get into so much shit for this. Chanyeol refuses to let Jongdae touch him, giving Jongdae the stink eye. He can’t even look at Jongdae for more than two minutes without wanting to deck some sense into him.
“Why do you have to cause so much trouble? Do you want to get me fired because I can’t give you what you want? Is that was this is? Fuck. And here I was-trying to make it up to you-and you pull this kind of shit on me.” Chanyeol’s voice trembles, trying to stay calm enough not to yell and make a scene but his anger is boiling over in waves.
“I didn’t want to do anything bad,” Jongdae mumbles tentatively, “I just wanted to get some fresh air and-”
“You want this. You want that. Do you ever stop to think about someone other than yourself?”
Jongdae looks so sad and sorry that Chanyeol immediately regrets it, but his tongue feels heavy and he ends up saying nothing. Jongdae’s not wrong but Chanyeol’s not wrong and no one’s right and it’s just complicated. There’s a moment of awkward silence before Chanyeol inhales and slouches over.
“Are you really angry?”
“No. Yes. No. Okay, yes but I can see where you’re coming from and I guess I can’t blame you.” Jongdae beams at Chanyeol, glad that he’s finally getting somewhere.
“So, Chanyeol-sama,” Jongdae says teasingly, “are we going to go home now?”
For once, Jongdae seems like he actually wants to go home but Chanyeol laughs hollowly.
“We’re not. I didn’t bring my wallet or my keys,” Chanyeol says, watching Jongdae’s smile falter.
“That’s okay, I have my wallet,” Jongdae says, hesitating when he says, “but I didn’t bring my keys either.” So basically they’re fucked but that’s okay because that means no matter what course of action that Chanyeol decides to take, it won’t matter.
“Do you trust me?”
“No?”
“Too bad, you’re shit out of luck.” Chanyeol turns around, already starting to walk off when Jongdae runs up and attaches himself to Chanyeol’s arm. He can’t help the small smile that blooms on his face.
They end up in a small café spot in Seoul, live music playing softly to create a nice sort of ambience that Jongdae has to stop to bask in. “Wow, how did you know about this place? I won’t buy you anything that costs more than 1000 won,” Jongdae says.
Chanyeol scoffs, waving at the older looking man behind the bar. “I’m going to order anything that’s over 2000 won,” he says just to see the scared look on Jongdae’s face.
“Chanyeol-sama, almighty handsome and strong namja? I thought we were good!” Jongdae does his best attempt at aegyo, wriggling up to Chanyeol’s side. Chanyeol blushes, trying to prevent Jongdae from wriggling anywhere that would make the situation incredibly awkward.
“Hey! I just saved your ass and you’re being stingy?” Jongdae pauses, nodding shamelessly.
Chanyeol stretches Jongdae’s cheeks out until it’s slightly painful, just to hear him whine. “I wasn’t going to make you pay anyways. You could say I know the owners.”
The man by the bar walks up to them, throwing an arm around Chanyeol. “It’s good to see you again,” he says happily. Jongdae looks at them in confusion, face frozen in a confused half-smile.
“Hey dad,” Chanyeol says, smiling warmly. Jongdae bows in a 90 degree angle, flustered and holds out his hand as politely as possible.
“Hello Chanyeol’s dad, I’m Jongdae. I’m Chanyeol’s friend,” Jongdae says shyly. His handshake is taken and he also gets pulled into a hug because any friend of Chanyeol’s is practically family.
They get treated to hot coffee and food to warm themselves until closing. (“Chanyeol hasn’t brought his friends home in a while, why don’t you guys stay the night?”)
“Your father owns this place?” Jongdae’s head keeps turning so much Chanyeol wonders if it’s about to fall off.
“Yeah, he does. Want to see something cool?” Jongdae nods excitedly, making loud noises of exclamation as Chanyeol shows Jongdae the framed guitars-some of which belonged to him.
“You can play?” Jongdae looks honestly impressed with Chanyeol when Chanyeol tells him all the instruments he can play.
Then Chanyeol takes it up a notch when he tells Jongdae to sit in the front while he chooses a guitar and walks up to the open mic, taking a seat. Jongdae’s unable to do anything other than stare while Chanyeol plays a song-and then he sings.
They’re lying in Chanyeol’s old bed, probably too cramped to fit two people but they make do. There are badly pasted plasters on the both of them and they giggle at what they can make out of each other’s faces in the dark.
“So, how was my performance?” Chanyeol’s so smug when Jongdae launches into a reverent explanation of how much he liked it.
“Seriously, my heart fluttered. You were so good. I liked it so much,” Jongdae says, sighing happily.
“Then sing something for me,” Chanyeol says, propping his chin with his palm. Jongdae pauses, mentally scrolling through a list of songs in his head and singing a soft ballad. Jongdae’s loud, but not as noisy when he sings. Chanyeol feels entirely too impressed with Jongdae despite his bad impression. Jongdae’s face is full of emotions, as if he’s experiencing everything that’s happening within the song.
Before Jongdae can finish, Chanyeol finds himself leaning in and stealing the last notes with his lips. It’s a brief kiss, barely-there brush of their lips, but it steals Jongdae’s words away. They stare at each other until Jongdae hides his face in Chanyeol’s chest, but Chanyeol’s not worried because he can feel Jongdae’s smile.
“I still have a lot to learn though,” Jongdae says bashfully. Chanyeol flicks his nose, smiling fondly when Jongdae clutches his nose and whines.
“You’re the next Beyoncé,” Chanyeol says teasingly. Jongdae blushes, murmuring denials and other incoherent commentaries until he becomes sleepy. Chanyeol threads their hands together and falls asleep like that.
Jongdae pesters Chanyeol in the morning until he wakes up with a grumpy frown and wraps Jongdae into a human burrito so he can’t move. Vengeance is great. It’s almost like nothing’s changed except Jongdae insists on playing footsies at the breakfast table. He’s served large servings of almost cake-like pancakes courtesy of Mama Park, who took a liking to his kitten-like features immediately because they’re a family of animal-lovers. (“Of course, I’m more of a dog person.” “Chanyeol, stop being mean to Jongdae!”)
Despite their reconciliation, they still get an earful from management the next day when they open the door to the apartment and find no one inside. The food is still laid out on the table, meat cold and dry while the rice has already formed a layer of hardness.
Chanyeol gets an earful when Jongdae’s manager sees Jongdae’s face scratched up but Jongdae insists that Chanyeol was the best [bodyguard] he’s ever had.
“Chanyeol, do you have anything to say for yourself?” Chanyeol looks even worse than Jongdae, so he’s not sure why they’re not asking anything about his own welfare. Jongdae shoots him a pout, clutching onto his hand.
Scratching his head, he shrugs his shoulders. “Um… we’re into BDSM?” Jongdae chokes back his own laughter and fails to hide it under a laughing fit. On the bright side, no further questions were asked.
Chanyeol gets to keep his job, only because Jongdae won’t accept anyone else because it’s kind of a big deal that Chanyeol has really nice hands to hold and it quells Jongdae’s wanderlust enough to keep him home long enough to keep the agency happy. (You can hold hands anywhere, Jongdae finds. Like, when you’re sitting on the kitchen counter, watching Chanyeol stir a pot of ramen with his other hand. Or when you’re just about to go to sleep at night and you want that feeling of contentment to wash over. Or even when Chanyeol’s in the middle of using the restroom-Jongdae is not allowed to do that, by the way.) It’s too early for them to be proclaiming their love for each other or give each other pet names, but it’s nice to start slow.
One month later
As it turns out, Jongdae’s more important than Chanyeol originally thought him to be. He’s not just some rookie with a nice voice trying to be an idol. Jongdae may be Korean, but he is one of China’s songbird, set to sing the national anthem at one of the biggest galas where many of the world’s representatives will come to dine and discuss political matters. It’s also where Jongdae will make his first public Korean debut.
Chen has always been the alias he has used for putting out his music. He’s never gone on any variety shows, staged any concerts, or ever given any clues as to who he might be. There’s an appeal to a singer without a face, but it seems more like a gimmick to Chanyeol. At first he felt that it’s almost stupid how Jongdae’s record company had thought that he would need a bodyguard when no one even knew who he was. After seeing Jongdae sing his heart out live, and having his own heart feel like it’s trying to claw its way up his throat, he can definitely see why.
When Jongdae finishes his last high note and ends the song, he looks over to Chanyeol and gives him a bright grin. Chanyeol has never clapped harder for anyone in his life.
Final author's note: I don't think this is what you were expecting but I hope you enjoyed it anyways! ;;;