I actually wrote this as part of last chapter, but I thought it was too long together, so here it is: the second update in one day. This is basically pure fluff. Or something.

Oh man. The things I do.

Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, if not always in the way we expect.

J.K. Rowling

Chanyeol had had one relationship in his life before, and that was in college with an airheaded girl he couldn't even remember the name of. His father had thought it would be good to blend in, be a normal boy, rather than stand out as the cold guy with too much work on his hands. So there was that girlfriend. The one insignificant other in Chanyeol's dotted past.

Which made Baekhyun a very complicated matter.

Chanyeol replayed the accidental forehead kiss in his head over the weekend, as well as the conversation pitfalls he had made in the music room and in the Thai restaurant after.

"Why the f did I say I was going to kill him?" he demanded into the cold air of his apartment. "And why the f did I--graaaugh!" He threw a pillow across the room. "What am I fing doing?"

The TV flickered in response.

Park Chanyeol does not get distracted. Park Chanyeol does not get distracted. Park Chanyeol does not--

Park Chanyeol was distracted.

And it was the mysterious letter that informed him of it.

Just like with the first letter about Baekhyun he had received, Chanyeol ran back to his apartment with his gun hidden in his sweatshirt, checked all the locks, and set the trip wire in front of the door. This time, though, he hid in his bedroom to read it.

"Park Chanyeol:

It seems that you have not completed the mission I have assigned you. It is quite disappointing to see someone of your caliber lose sight of what matters. I will not punish you for your incompetence. However, I do believe that money is a valuable motivator, and that you will soon see why I and many others want--no, need--Mr. Byun Baekhyun dead. I am warning you: it is not I who will come after you should you ultimately fail. It will be something much more dangerous."

There was an illegible signature at the bottom, and Chanyeol read the strange letter three more times before folding it up and slipping it into a manila folder in his bedside cabinet.

He had never failed to complete a mission before. Never.

But perhaps his flexible morals weren't as flexible as he thought.

At eight o'clock on Wednesday night, Baekhyun was alone in the ominously silent house when his phone vibrated from on top of his textbooks. 

He flew off the bed, notebook following him onto the floor. 

"Ah, s ." Baekhyun scrambled for the phone, slamming it and giving it a death glare before checking the notification. There was a text message from Chanyeol.

Don't know if you're free but want to grab drinks?

Baekhyun glanced at his schoolwork, then realized that he didn't have to go to class the next day. Sure. Where?

There's a nice place near my house. Robinhood&Co.

It sounded fancy. Baekhyun pulled his laptop to join him on the ground and looked up the name, then gawked at the prices.

tbh I don't know if I can afford it. Anywhere else?

It took Chanyeol about six minutes to text back. I'll pay.

No, you did last time. Let me

i'll pay, don't worry.

Baekhyun fumbled for excuses, all of which were shot down, then gave up. Should i meet you there?

It's raining. want me to pick you up?

I'll meet you there

Baekhyun left a note for Yixing, shrugged on his old neon rain jacket, and stepped outside.

The rain was light but freezing cold, and it felt as though small pins and needles were jabbing at every inch of exposed skin. Baekhyun stopped at the street corner to look up directions. His phone sputtered a bit before pulling up Google Maps and typing in "Robinhood&Co".

It was seven miles away.

Baekhyun wanted to scream. The day had been bad enough; he had to endure criticism from parents and teachers for cancelling school the next day in anticipation of a snowstorm, his bike broke, a neighbor's pipe had burst and there was black ice all over the sidewalk, and someone had turned the heating up too high one day and the bills were astronomical. He his heel to walk back to his house. The wind changed direction at that moment, throwing needle rain into Baekhyun's eyes.

He called Chanyeol when he reached the front door of his house.

"Hey, Chanyeol. Really sorry, but could you...pick me up?" 

The other man chuckled. "I had a feeling that would happen."

Baekhyun sighed, fumbling with the keys to his front door. "Yeah. I'll give you my address. It's on Grace Drive..." He trailed off, staring into the window of the house.

"Baek?"

Something was moving inside, a faint white blob that disappeared behind furniture and flickered like candlefire. Baekhyun backed away from the door. 

That better be a hallucination.

"Baek, what's wrong?"

Baekhyun felt his head start swimming, and he stumbled to the curb. "Just come, please," he said, as calmly as he could manage.

"Hey, what--"

Baekhyun hung up and crossed the street to sit on the old bench there. It creaked under his weight, and cold water was seeping into his pants, but Baekhyun didn't care. 

It was a hallucination. It had to be. Otherwise...

He watched as figures moved inside the house, which he knew was empty, and gripped the rotting wood beneath him as the world started spinning around him. Something hot started coming down his face, something salty, but Baekhyun didn't make a sound, afraid of attracting the attention of whatever monster it was inside the house.

It felt like an eternity before a sleek silver car pulled up to the curb, and Chanyeol came tumbling out of the driver's seat, opening up an umbrella clumsily as he rushed to the bench.

"Oh, G-d, Baek." He knelt down in front of the shivering man. "Are you okay?"

Is someone after you?

Baekhyun grabbed Chanyeol's warm hand. "I th-think there's someone inside m-my house, Chanyeol."

Chanyeol looked over his shoulder at a rickety old two-story house directly across the street. "Don't you have roommates?"

"They're n-not home." Baekhyun tightened his grip. "I don't even know if I'm--if I'm seeing things or if it's r-real--"

Chanyeol pulled Baekhyun to his feet and tried to hand the umbrella to him. "Let me check it out. Give me your keys."

Baekhyun shook his head furiously. "No. It can't--there isn't anyone there. I don't--I don't know."

Chanyeol studied the shorter man's face, then frowned and glanced over his shoulder again.

"No, don't worry about it...can we just get out of here?" Baekhyun sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. "Just get me out of here."

Chanyeol squeezed Baekhyun's hand. "Sure."

The inside of Chanyeol's car was warm and smelled of leather. Baekhyun sat on top of a gym towel, keeping his wet jacket far away from the nice back of the passenger seat.

"Don't worry about it," Chanyeol said, not taking his eyes off the city street ahead of him. "I can wipe it down."

Baekhyun grunted.

They pulled into the parking garage of an apartment complex, and Chanyeol opened the door for the still-soaked Baekhyun. The elevator ride up to Chanyeol's floor was uncomfortably quiet, and it was only after the door closed on the beautifully decorated but chilly apartment that anyone spoke.

"I'll get you something to change into," Chanyeol said.

Abruptly, Baekhyun started crying, and Chanyeol's defensive instinct kicked up. 

"Hey, hey, hey." He put his hands on Baekhyun's shoulders. "Hey. What's wrong?"

Baekhyun shook his head and buried his face in his sleeves. "Oh G-d. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm causing you so much trouble. I'm so sorry." He in a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

"No, not at all. Hang on. Come on, just--here, sit down." Chanyeol steered him to the couch and slipped Baekhyun's rain jacket off. "Come on. Make yourself comfortable." As an afterthought, he grabbed a towel from the bathroom and laid it down. 

Baekhyun dropped down, struggling to keep his composure. 

Chanyeol threw open his closet door, looking for something warm that Baekhyun could wear. He came back out with a Columbia shirt and sweatpants that had shrunk in the wash.

Baekhyun hadn't moved, but he looked up when Chanyeol came back into the main room.

"I'm so sorry. It's fing nine at night, and here I am crying like a dumba in your apartment." Baekhyun laughed bitterly. 

"You need to stop crying," Chanyeol said. "Because if you don't I swear I'm going to start crying too, and I look like s when I cry."

"Doubt it." Baekhyun took the clothes that Chanyeol laid on the couch next to him. 

"I'll get you something to eat...or drink...uh." Chanyeol glanced towards his kitchenette. He hadn't had dinner, and there was absolutely nothing in the fridge. "I, uh, I hope you like instant noodles and beer."

Baekhyun had changed amazingly quickly out of his wet jeans and into Chanyeol's sweatpants. "That sounds great, actually. I'm down for beer."

"It's crappy beer, but I'll grab it."

He handed a six-pack to the now fully dressed Baekhyun and returned to the kitchen to boil water for the noodles.

Baekhyun hummed to himself as he cracked open the can and tipped his head back. He couldn't hold alcohol, but there were some times where alcohol was necessary. This was one of those times.

One. Two. Three.

Soon enough the apartment was filled with the smell of artificial spice, and Chanyeol peered back to check on his visitor. Baekhyun was curled up on the couch with his head on one of the armrests, murmuring the words to a ballad. A beer can lay on its side on the coffee table.

Chanyeol's heart ached for a moment, and he turned his attention back on the instant noodles on the stove. They were ready, bubbling and fragrant (probably with chemicals that would give me cancer, Chanyeol thought). He ladled it out into two bowls and left them on the dining room table.

Baekhyun opened one eye when Chanyeol sat down at his feet. "You're done?"

"Yeah. Ready when you are."

Baekhyun huffed and sat up. "Sorry."

"Aish. Stop apologizing. I needed some company anyways."

Baekhyun gave Chanyeol a strange look, one that sent static down his spine and into the tips of his fingers. "S ."

"What?"

Baekhyun started tipping over, and Chanyeol caught him before his head could hit the armrest. He got a glimpse of the six-pack he had given Baekhyun minutes ago. Half of it was gone.

"Holy f , Baek, you really know how to put down a beer." Chanyeol hauled Baekhyun up to a seated position, then sighed. "Looks like you aren't having any ramen."

Baekhyun groaned, and Chanyeol sighed again. He lowered Baekhyun down slowly, putting his fluffiest pillow under the inexplicably drunk man's head. For a few moments, Chanyeol sat on the floor by Baekhyun's head, just watching. Baekhyun's eyelids fluttered occasionally, but it looked like he was out cold.

"Are you an idiot, or did you just have a really crappy day?" Chanyeol asked, fully expecting an answer. 

Baekhyun grumbled, and his soft features furrowed a bit.

Chanyeol sighed, then leaned in to kiss him gently on the nose. He didn't have to know.

Finally, at ten o'clock, Chanyeol carried Baekhyun into the bedroom, tucked him in, and fell asleep beside him.

Assassin, my a .