It never occurred to Chanyeol to wonder where Baekhyun usually sat for breakfast until the tour dates back in Tokyo. Sometimes, the short, growth-stunted, pessimistic brunette would eat along with the rest of the tour staff, but other times, he’d leave the hotel to eat elsewhere out on the streets. Chanyeol didn’t have the freedom to walk out without body guards accompanying him, unlike Baekhyun, but he always thought about daring to tag along, more often than not in the recent days.
His head had an aching pang. Chanyeol knew he hadn’t consumed a significant amount of alcohol the night before to feel that way, so he excused it as something his lack of sleep contributed to.
With his eyes kept on the ballroom’s double doors, Chanyeol waited with thinning patience for Baekhyun to join him. To make sure of himself, the musician replayed the memory of the brunette promising him time that very morning. It was a promise that he was keen on keeping. If Baekhyun decided to go back on his word, then that’d be an annoying issue to deal with.
Time began to tick farther and farther away from him, and Baekhyun still hadn’t made an appearance despite being the one honey-dicking about giving the giant an opportunity to talk over breakfast. Chanyeol ate his fruit and took a bite out of his toast, hardly the breakfast the nagging brunette would’ve approved of if he was actually there. Spotting Kris about to pass his area, Chanyeol raised his hand, halting the manager.
“Do you happen to know where Baekhyun is this morning?”
Kris looked down, thinking. “I saw him a while ago. He said he needed to make a quick run to a convenience store. Jongdae was with him.”
It dawned on Chanyeol then that the brunette probably never had the intention of even speaking to him. If anything, Baekhyun might’ve even jumped at the first chance to leave the hotel. Waving Kris off, Chanyeol dismissed him, returning to his silent sulking, thinking of ways to approach the little cunt on the subject of lying and giving false promises, eyes constantly darting at the ballroom doorway.
Baekhyun’s arrival was unpleasant and pleasant at the same time. Appearing forty-five minutes past the time Chanyeol expected his company, the brunette walked into a room that was nearly empty besides the hotel help bustling to clean the mess left behind by the crew. The only individual there who had no purpose of staying was the musician himself, fingers lazily tapping on the screen of his phone until he glanced up and threw the brunette a searing look of utter displeasure. “Nice of you to finally come.”
Looking frustrated, Baekhyun ran a hand through his hair, lips drawn into a thin unhappy line. “The staff said they need you out to the van right now.”
Ignoring the other’s words, Chanyeol leaned far back in his seat. “What’s your excuse?”
“You said you’d talk to me about the songs.”
“Mr. Park, I told you to write your suggestions down and I’d review them,” Baekhyun responded, closing his eyelids in a tired fashion before meeting Chanyeol’s eyes again. “I made that clear this morning when I was in your suite.”
“Then you should’ve sent me a text or some visual reminder, because who the hell has the capability to remember anything at five in the morning? And to be honest with you, short cake, I was too busy thinking about how good you fucking looked to listen to anything you were saying.” Rising from his seat, Chanyeol cocked his head, silently intimidating the brunette with the look in his eyes. “But I guess I’m sorry...for paying more attention to your mouth than to a words you said."
Irked, Baekhyun called his name once, following after in quick strides after Chanyeol began walking out. “Chan--Mr. Park. I won’t be riding in the same vehicle arrangement as you.”
“And why is that?” Chanyeol asked without turning back or slowing down for the coordinator to catch pace with him.
Miffed by his unconscious attempt to keep up, Baekhyun stopped in his tracks just outside the ballroom and stood in the middle of the hall. “I’ll be going at a later time. I have some things to take care of, so I’ll be arriving at the venue with a few other people.”
“What other business do you have besides overseeing my needs?” Chanyeol replied sharply, snapping as his annoyance grew back.
Offended, Baekhyun stood appalled. “Your needs? Park Chanyeol, my contract with the company concerning this tour has nothing to do with you apart from your safety and the safety of the public. In simple terms, the only job I have that involves you is making sure your tour runs as smooth as possible. Not one word said anything about your needs, so don’t you dare confuse me with your manager. If you want something, take it up with him, not me.”
“I know what your contract says,” Chanyeol said, “but I think I’ve made it clear that every interaction I have with you isn’t with a professional mindset. It’s more, what do you call it--personal.”
“Then maybe we should get you a personal assistant, Mr. Park, so I can get on with my job and less with your personal wants.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Baekhyun sighed defeatedly. He looked off to the side for a moment, hearing people in the distance approaching. Then, he gave Chanyeol a jaded expression. “I’m done speaking about this to you. The crew’s waiting and I can’t be here anymore. I’m already late for business I have to attend to, and you...I don’t want to deal with you right now. The van’s in the front. Make sure you get people to walk with you.”
He left without another word, using the other hall to leave instead of having to pass the musician. Chanyeol kept his temper in check, brushing the feelings he felt off as he pivoted around.
The lobby was, as expected, busy. Security was on hand and normal guests stopped to watch him as he walked by with his security team. A staff called his name from behind, lugging his guitar case, and Chanyeol gave him no smirk or smile. Just a nod, which didn’t seem to settle well with the individual who muttered a remark as Chanyeol walked off.
Outside the hotel doors, the girls who had camped out all called him either by his name, his stage name, or just a nickname that was circulating around the web. Chanyeol grinned at them, taking the time to sign a few notepads and cellphone cases with a sharpie handed to him, but eventually got inside the van where he received looming attitudes.
“We’ve been waiting for over twenty minutes for you.”
Turning his eyes to his manager, Chanyeol shrugged. “Terribly sorry,“ he said, not sounding sorry at all. “I had a run in with Baekhyun.”
Kris rolled his eyes, dragging the guitar case on the van floor to a more comfortable position. “You need to stop bothering him, Chanyeol. He does enough already.”
“Like what?” Chanyeol put on his seatbelt, then drew out his phone.
“For one, he went to the store to buy to get us all standing upright without tumbling over.”
“So, he’s your work horse, and not mine.”
“Chanyeol, that’s not the point.” Kris sounded frustrated. “He’s looking over everyone. You’re not...Don’t get offended, but you’re not that special.”
Chanyeol didn’t take the remark to heart. His snapped his earphones in, uncaring for the way Kris was watching him.
“Do you understand?”
It was a stupid question, one that wasn’t even worth answering. Ticked off, Chanyeol didn’t reply directly. “Are we going or not?” he bluntly shot.
Spent, Kris sighed and signaled for the driver to go on.
The band sounded tired despite the assistant director’s appraisal. It was bullshit to say something was good when it sounded terrible, and Chanyeol didn’t know if the bastard was trying to kiss his ass. He was boiling over the fake compliments for an hour until he realized he missed the runt’s barking and insults. When it came to him, he cursed loudly, scaring his makeup artist as he stood up abruptly to snatch a bottled water from a cooler. As he was drinking, his attention was caught when he heard the sound of humming around the corner. When he went to investigate, he only saw the young drummer hired by the company.
Jongin played the drums and it always seemed like he was lost in his own world. More often than not, he was humming to himself, tapping his drumsticks on any surface he could find. Thinking he needed a distraction from that morning, Chanyeol walked over, sitting in a chair nearby.
“Just warming up,” Jongin said. “I’m working off the hangover to be honest.”
“Aren’t we all…” Chanyeol leaned back, heaving his shoulders. “This tour needs to stop drinking.”
Laughing, Jongin stopped tapping his sticks and gave Chanyeol a look. “I don’t think we will, but it’s good that the company hired Baekhyun.”
“Because he doesn’t drink.”
“Well, that,” the drummer said, shrugging as he began tapping again, “but he always gives us something for the hangover the night after.”
Drawing his brows together, Chanyeol took an interest. It was the second time someone mentioned the runt’s early morning run. Since when did Baekhyun go around playing as a saint? If anything, he was far from a saint. “He didn’t give me anything for mine this morning.”
“I don’t know about that, but he went out with Mr. Kim to buy some things at a store. You should’ve gotten one. He was looking for you this morning.”
Maybe that’s what ate up Baekhyun’s time up that morning, but nonetheless, he said he’d talk and he didn’t. Chanyeol wasn’t one to hold grudges, and Baekhyun was more than lucky that he let a lot of things slid with all the orders that he gave out, but that didn’t stop the giant from being overly pressed about the issue.
“Hn. He must’ve forgotten.” In the midst of their argument that morning, the window of opportunity to offer him anything to help with the ailments must’ve fallen through the cracks. Chanyeol groaned. “This is your first tour, right?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Yep,” Jongin replied proudly. “It’s been a nice experience working with you, Mr. Park.”
“You’re good at what you do,” Chanyeol complimented, crossing his legs. “Who’ve you worked for before?”
“I used to work for Do Kyungsoo, lead singer for D.O Mania.”
Raising a brow, Chanyeol folded his arms. The name was more than just familiar to him. It was etched in his memory. “You used to work for Kyungsoo?”
Nodding, Jongin grinned. “Does that bother you?”
Thinking about it, the musician fiddled with his hair, whisking it away from his face. So the kid used to work for Do Kyungsoo… It was an interesting thing to know that the latter was affiliated with his former music partner and, currently, nemesis in the music industry, but that didn’t cloud his judgement too much. As far as he knew, Kyungsoo was an idiot for letting a drummer like Jongin slip through his fingers.
His silence dragged on for much longer than he anticipated. Jongin stopped what he was doing, frowning. “I promise you I’m not a spy for him or anything like that.”
“Hm? Oh...I believe you,” Chanyeol assured him, waving the concern off.
“You know, Baekhyun used to work for him, too, but he left before I did.” Jongin yawned. “What do they have at the food station? I’m still hungry…”
“The usual stuff,” Chanyeol replied, eager to address the first part of Jongin’s statement. "You said Baekhyun worked for Kyungsoo?”
“Yeah. They were close when I used to work for Kyungsoo’s label. When Baekhyun left, there were rumors that they broke up and that’s why Baekhyun decided to resign. Want anything from the station?”
“No, I’m alright. Go help yourself.”
“Okay. I’ll see you later then!”
While Jongin made his way to the food station, Chanyeol was right back where he started and that was with his mind stuck on the coordinator. After a few minutes, he pushed himself off his seat and began walking towards a backdoor exit to light a cigarette.
The early morning air hit him in the face as he pushed out. The surrounding area was closed off to any unauthorized person so there was hardly anybody lurking around. It was just the kind of privacy he wanted.
The rest of the crew didn’t arrive at the venue for another hour, and by then, Chanyeol had already gone through five sticks. He watched Baekhyun get out of the second van that pulled in at the back, arms occupied with some bags with contents unknown to the musician. Staff members went out of their way to help the coordinator with the boxes, but Chanyeol turned his back and went inside the designated green room.
Baekhyun walked through the door of the waiting area a few minutes after, fixing the earpiece on him, the one that gave him that signature look Chanyeol liked (and hated). His hair was tousled like he had been doing some physical work before arriving at the venue. That or he had been moving around excessively.
Chanyeol was lying on the couch, guitar on his torso as he strummed its delicate strings. His eyes glanced over at the doorway only to look the man up and down before going back to his own business.
“How long have you been in here?”
The musician almost snorted. Between them, greetings were hardly a thing. “A while.”
Frowning, Baekhyun glanced around the room. “Shouldn’t you be outside rehearsing?”
“I am rehearsing,” Chanyeol said. “Here. On this couch.”
“Come here.” Bending his fingers, Chanyeol motioned for the coordinator to approach him. Reluctantly, Baekhyun did. “Sit down.”
“I insist.” Moving his legs, the musician made room at the end of the couch. “Now sit.”
Sighing, Baekhyun drew his eyes down on the area and gave in, sitting away as far as he possibly could. After just a moment, he shook his head and dryly laughed. “What the hell am I doing right now, honestly?”
Chanyeol grinned. “Sitting here with me. Lucky you.”
“Really.” Baekhyun hung his head, looking down at the floor. Then the grip on his clipboard tightened and he turned to face Chanyeol. “I need to tell you someth--”
“Are you scared of me or are you scared of my reputation?” Watching the brunette carefully, Chanyeol cocked his head. “What happened between you and Mr. Do? Tell me.”
Drawn back, Baekhyun narrowed his eyes, forgetting all about the topic he attempted to bring up. “How do you know about him?”
“He and I used to be a duo until we had a severe disagreement and we both went solo. Now we’re rivals…” Chanyeol paused. “Don’t tell me you’re my fan when you don’t even know my history, you little runt.”
Baekhyun rolled his eyes, exhaling a breath. “I know your history together. I was asking how you knew about us.”
“Oh...Let’s just say I heard it from someone--”
“Jongin. The drummer.”
“Nothing gets past you, hm?”
“He helped the recording of Kyungsoo’s last album. I’d remember him from anywhere. Now, why’re you asking about him, Mr. Park?” Baekhyun drawled. “Does it bother you that I have connections with your so-called rival?”
“I’m merely asking if something went wrong between you two, because then, it’d make sense.” Sitting up, Chanyeol put his guitar on the side and leaned over to the coordinator. “It’d explain why you’re so scared to cross the line of professionalism, or why you continue to refuse to admit to the fact that there’s a mutual interest between us.”
It took seconds for everything to sink in. Baekhyun laughed, covering his face with a hand. He didn’t speak until Chanyeol became so agitated that he reached over and pulled his hand away. “Please tell me you don’t think Mr. Do and I--”
“Dated? Yes.” Letting go of Baekhyun’s hand, Chanyeol gave him space. “Isn’t that why you left?”
“That’s not why I left his management, Mr. Park,” Baekhyun said. “And for the record, you really shouldn’t be listening to rumors.”
As Baekhyun was rising from his seat, Chanyeol gave him a look. “Why’d you leave then?”
Shrugging, Baekhyun went on to fix his shirt, wrinkled from sitting down. “You,” he said simply. “I thought, well, I like Do Kyungsoo and I like his music, but I like you more and it felt like I was...what do you call it? Playing on the wrong team? So, I resigned and I joined this circus, much to your unfortunate luck. I know how much you hate the fact that I’m a bitch, or so I’ve heard you say.”
Raising his brows, Chanyeol grinned as he stood up, towering over the brunette who was busy fixing his appearance for no reason as all. “Is this what it feels like to be flattered by you, because I like it.” He laughed when Baekhyun looked away. “And Baekhyun, I don’t mind if you’re a bitch, but I’d love it if you were a bitch in heat once in a while, you know?”
“Park Chanyeol, I--” Interrupted by a knocking at the door, Baekhyun bit his lips shut and turned around.
“Baekhyun, Jongdae’s looking for you. He’s also with Yixing, the head of sound check.”
“Okay, sorry to keep them waiting,” Baekhyun muttered, looking at the clock. “Thank you.” Once the staff member left, he waved a dismissive hand at the musician. “Go do something to take your mind off things, like, I don’t know. Take a bodyguard out with you and go meet some of your fans outside the venue.”
“But I’m already in here with my number one.”
“Yes, well, I have a job and so do you. Now go.”
Baekhyun hustled out of the room and Chanyeol followed after slowly. It was sort of a relief to know that the brunette and his ex-band member didn’t date, but at the same time, if they did, that would’ve been a perfect explanation for Baekhyun’s reluctance. Chanyeol figured that it was better off that way.
There was an ever growing pressure put on Chanyeol by his record company to create and release, at least, a new single by six months. the tour was a month and three weeks away from its final date of performance. He had more than enough time to struggle out some lyrics on a piece of paper and create a demo within the time frame, but of all the things hindering him, he sat night after night without a clue of what to write for.
Chanyeol had obvious choices. He knew he could sing an endless amount songs about his sexual frustration for his young concert coordinating perfectionist, but the more he thought of it, the less appealing it was to have his first single about Baekhyun centering around the bland subject of sex. Though relevant, the subject was something Chanyeol opted out of, preferring something deeper. However, it was easier said than done, and the process proved to be difficult.
Often times, he wondered about the point of view he’d take in his intended lyrics. Did he want to write about Baekhyun in a passionate way or call him a “narcissistic bitch with lips that love to scream my name in between the sheets”? The question always left his mind in a blank. For the most part, he enjoyed the brunette as an individual, despite his loud mouth and bitchy ways during rehearsals, and Chanyeol also knew he was attracted to Baekhyun’s sexual allure.
As Chanyeol sat in his chair, turning his head for the makeup artists who had the job of fixing his appearance for the second part of the concert following the short intermission, he caught Baekhyun’s gaze in the distance as the other stopped to watch from afar, standing near a rack of clothes. For a second, Chanyeol felt he needed to break away since he was supposed to be down right pissed about the brunette’s constant evasion, but then he found himself grinning as Baekhyun gave him a reluctant smile and waved before heading elsewhere, taking the rack along.
If there was something Baekhyun did quite well besides barking out orders, it was giving him mixed signals. Sometimes Chanyeol wondered if there were even signals at all or it was all just part of his fleeing imagination.
After the girls finished with his face, he was pulled aside by Kris and given to two concert staff members. As they walked through the hallway in the direction of the stage, he was handed his guitar and fixed with a mic. The closer they walked to the stage, the louder the cheering crowd became.
Near the end of the hall, he saw Baekhyun holding tightly to that old clipboard of his, laughing at something someone in the passing had said to him. Too distracted by it, he was caught off guard when Chanyeol lightly grazed his thumb underneath his bottom lip.
“Where to?” Chanyeol asked before Baekhyun could get a word out.
Seeing the look on the other staff members’ face, Baekhyun immediately pulled back, gripping Chanyeol by the arm. “I’ll take it from here,” he said tightly to the staff before dragging Chanyeol to the left, in the direction of the rising platform.
Once they were separated from the others, Baekhyun let go, pushing Chanyeol in front of him. He huffed, and when the musician tried to stop and face him, the coordinator jabbed him with his board. “Let’s get a move on, Mr. Park. The band’s just finishing their instrumental solos. It’s almost time for you to come out from the trap door.”
“Which song am I performing?”
“You can’t be fucking serious, Mr. Park.” Baekhyun groaned, nodding at the people who they were passing by. “We’ve been doing the same lineup for three shows now.”
“Remind me. I’m stupid.”
Unamused, Baekhyun walked with him to the platform without answering until Chanyeol called his name again. The man in control of the lift began the countdown, waiting for the band above ground to finish their solos. Baekhyun glanced up, staring at the bright light that seeped through the trap door’s opening, foot tapping to the rhythm of the drums.
“Mr. Byun, tell me or I’m going out there without a clue.”
“That’s fine by me!” Motioning two fingers, Baekhyun ordered for the lift to begin.
Frowning, Chanyeol scowled at the operator before looking straight at Baekhyun. “Hey,” he said loudly, trying to override the stadium’s noise. Once Baekhyun acknowledged him with the raise of a brow, he cocked his head. “You have five seconds, honey.”
“I don’t care, Park--”
Gritting his teeth, Baekhyun almost snapped his clipboard in two. He was embarrassed and Chanyeol could see that, as well as understand. The operator was standing right there, but that added to the entertainment.
“The song’s called, Fuck Me, Darling, Mr. Park!”
Winking, Chanyeol grinned at him. “Thanks, runt.”
Fuck you, Baekhyun mouthed, which had Chanyeol laughing until he was completely out and up on the stage.
Chanyeol, initially, had no intention of pursuing Baekhyun, which came from the fact that he was usually the prey of other people’s desires, but after some time, he realized that pursuing him was exactly what he was doing.
Taking the pen in his hand and mindlessly hitting it against his pad of paper, Chanyeol glanced up at the sight of the short brunette purchasing a cup of coffee at a nearby cafe. The airport crowd was manageable. Few people were taking photos of him sitting near his gate, but Chanyeol didn’t mind so much. He was wearing dark shades, preventing them from being curious at who he was watching.
There was an area on Baekhyun’s head where a group of rebellious strands decided to stand out, and this gave the brunette a tired look. He was also wearing sunglasses, which meant he probably didn’t sleep all that well. Baekhyun fumbled with his wallet in the midst of pulling out his credit card, but brushed it off with a laugh. The barista at the register laughed, too. Chanyeol was the only one not laughing, trying to ignore the feeling of annoyance churning inside of him.
After he finished paying for his drink, Baekhyun began walking back to the waiting area, but passed by a female staff worker and stopped to exchange words with her. Whatever they were talking about, it was brief and it concerned Chanyeol. He knew this because, unlike Baekhyun who kept his eyes away, the woman looked in his direction when they finished speaking.
Irked, Chanyeol leaned to one side, setting his elbow on the seat’s metallic arm rest and bit at the side of his right thumb as his eyes followed Baekhyun. One way or another, the musician just knew that the short runt was aiming to prick a nerve by sitting in an area for people waiting at a different gate. Even more so, of all the people to sit next to, he had to sit with the light crew--more specifically, the director of the group.
Chanyeol was biting too hard. Jolting in his seat, he took his thumb out from his mouth and gave a small smile to the people around him who were either concerned or amused. Then he fell back to glowering behind his shades.
A few minutes later, much to his surprise, the same woman who Baekhyun stopped shadowed over him with a cup held out in front of her. She said nothing too important. “Mr. Byun said you might like it.”
“Hmmm…” Chanyeol tightly smiled, taking the cup from her and immediately feeling the heat transferred to his hand. “Did he say why he was ordering you to do this instead of handing this over to me himself?”
She shrugged, laughing softly. “No. He only told me the flavor might wake you up.”
“Alright. Thanks.” He dismissed her, but too briskly for warm feelings. As he took the cup to his lips, he noticed her grazed expression, yet he didn’t apologize. A small sip of the drink had his attention grabbed and taken.
It wasn’t coffee at all. It tasted like hot chocolate with a hint of cherry flavoring, and when Chanyeol snapped the lid off the cup, his hunch was right, but he couldn’t figure out why Baekhyun would give him such a thing. He was either trying to be flirtatious or obnoxiously cute, but either way, it was suspicious.
His paranoia proved to be right. Management usually kept the seats next to him in first class open just for his own comfort, but having Baekhyun take the seat right next to him wasn’t all too unpleasant until the brunette decided to drop the bomb.
Just as the plane was heading to its runway, Baekhyun turned to him and said, “I talked to Kris, and it’s been decided that when we land in Berlin, you’ll have your own personal assistant.”
The joy of having the coordinator as a company on the flight quickly withered. Chanyeol was unhappy to hear the news, even more so that it had all been discussed without his involvement. “I don’t want a personal assistant.”
Baekhyun cocked his head. “Mr. Park, you said that you had personal needs, so I suggested to Mr. Wu that we hire you an assistant. Actually, he was on your side until I began complaining about you constantly annoying me with requests that, well, shouldn’t be handled by me at all.”
Chanyeol could’ve laughed, but he didn’t. “You won’t even let me make up excuses to talk to you anymore?”
“You don’t need an excuse to talk to me if it’s something about the tour or anything that’s considered professional, Chanyeol. I just don’t want to mix business in with pleasure.”
“There hasn’t been any pleasure since Tokyo and that was how many countries ago?”
Defiantely crossing his arms, Chanyeol pulled his seat belt tighter and pressed his back against his seat. “I don’t want this assistant.”
“But you have to take this.”
“No, I don’t!” Chanyeol snapped. He caught eyes watching them and cursed before lowering his voice. “I don’t have to take in a goddamn assistant even if Kris says I do. Humor me some other way, Baekhyun, but unless you’re the personal assistant, I’m going to have to politely refuse.”
With brows drawn together, Baekhyun stared into his eyes incredulously. “Why do you want me so badly?”
“Because I do.”
“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun said, snapping his own seat belt as he talked over the usual instructional safety video at the beginning of every flight. “I never get personally involved with anyone from work. Office romance is a joke.”
“But this isn’t an office and it’s not a joke,” Chanyeol refuted.
“Okay, the office thing was just a general saying!”
“Fine, but for the love of god, why’re you so goddamn scared!?”
“I’m not scared! I’m just not one of your dolls who you can fuck a few times and toss around!” Baekhyun hissed lowly. He reached over, rummaging through the provided magazines in the pocket of the seats in front of them. “Maybe you’re just really wound up. Ah! Here. Sports Illustrated.”
Chanyeol caught the magazine before it hit his chest. “What the fuck do you want me to do with this?”
“After the plane’s off the ground and it’s safe, you can go into the bathroom and take care of business.”
“Oh, honey, if you think I’m going to masturbate to this, it really doesn’t compare to what I’ve been fantasizing about every night. No, thanks,” the musician said, putting the magazine back in the pouch.
Baekhyun watched in defeat. “What if you’re just, oh, I don’t know. Delusional? Like, I get it. You liked...that night, but Chanyeol, I assure you, you can get the same pleasure from anyone.”
“True, but they don’t have your face or your voice,” Chanyeol replied nonchalantly as he reached into his bag on the ground and pulled out his ipod. “Sex was good between us once. It’ll be just as good or even better the second, third, fourth, fifth, six, seventh, eighth--”
“Alright, I get it,” Baekhyun said, groaning into his hands. “There’s sexual chemistry, but I still can’t.”
“Hm, mind telling me why?”
“I do mind, actually.”
Snorting, Chanyeol snapped his earphones in the device. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say we communicate better in bed than we do out of it,” he said, clicking his tongue. “Do you have a boyfriend or something? Not that it matters.”
Baekhyun jabbed him on the arm, lips tightly pressed together. “Do you ever stop to think about how complicated entire thing is? Because it’s complicated as hell, Chanyeol. You don’t exactly have a hot record of being committed to anyone, I was only supposed to be a coordinator, nothing more, and because of that stupid night, which is entire your fault, but I’ll take the blame, too, everything’s gone to shit. Now, I have to deal with this.”
Baekhyun grumbled something under his breath. He threw his head back and closed his eyes for a moment. The plane was beginning to pick up speed on the runway and the entire cabin was beginning to shake. “I’m saying I don’t know how I feel about you. That’s what I’m trying to say.”
“If that’s what you’re going to give me for now, then fine, but that’s easy to fix.”
“No, it’s not. You have a problem seeing the line that separates what’s professional and what isn’t.” The plane began to lift, its engine loud for all to hear. “But with me, I’m having issues differentiating how I see you. The line that’s hard for me to see is the one that deciphers whether I really like you for your disgustingly crude, selfish and sometimes charming self, or the fact that I’m just a fan who’s merely flattered by the fact that you’d give me the time of day. So, I don’t mean to be a bitch when I tell you that it’s complicated, Mr. Park. Honestly.”