Baekhyun kept his heated face down, kicking himself internally for letting Park Chanyeol talk him into the restaurant. Their entrance did not go unnoticed by the other patrons, who barely bothered to conceal their curiosity and surprise. They looked Baekhyun up and down, like he was an exhibit at the circus. Baekhyun felt like a mismatched freak in the midst of the immaculately dressed diners, whose auras dripped thickly with wealthy arrogance and derision. He could feel the unspoken question hanging heavily in the air: What on earth was Park Chanyeol doing with someone who looked like a homeless delinquent?

At that moment, he began to wonder the same thing as well.

What the hell am I doing here?

--

Chanyeol ordered the Chef’s Recommendation for the both of them, whatever it was. They were ushered into a private dining room, away from the hustle and bustle of the main dining hall. Baekhyun was sure that everyone out there was probably discussing the two of them right now.

He groaned and slumped onto the table, cheeks pressed against the smooth red silk of the tablecloth.

“What’s wrong?” Chanyeol chuckled knowingly.

Baekhyun whipped off his shades to affix Chanyeol with a bitter glare. “That was embarrassing! I still can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” he huffed.

Chanyeol thought Baekhyun looked absolutely adorable under the warm glow of the candle light, his soft red lips curled into a small pout. He resisted the urge to reach across the table to pinch his cheeks.

“Life’s so short—why care so much about what other people think?”

Baekhyun looked ready to retort when the waiter came in with their appetizer. He decided to save his protests for later—he really was quite famished after a long day at work.

Dish after dish was brought in and Baekhyun heartily dived into the food. Every dish lived up to the establishment’s reputation as one of the best Michelin star restaurants in Seoul. Baekhyun sighed contentedly, wondering when was the last time he had a meal so satisfying. With his measly salary and monthly rent to pay, he mainly sustained himself on fast food and instant ramen. 

Chanyeol, on the other hand, derived great satisfaction not from the food, but from watching Baekhyun eat. He was glad that Baekhyun was enjoying himself. The boy was all skin and bones, and Chanyeol wanted to take the opportunity to fatten him up a little. He noticed that although Baekhyun ate a little too quickly, he was the textbook definition of perfect table manners. Chanyeol sipped his sparkling wine as he watched Baekhyun slice his salmon with finesse.  

“You have very pretty fingers,” he mused.

Baekhyun’s eyes darted up to meet Chanyeol’s twinkling ones. “Thanks, I grew them myself.”

Chanyeol chuckled loudly. “I like you,” he commented.

Baekhyun raised a questioning brow. “So am I playing the role of shiny new toy to rich brat Park Chanyeol now?”

“You’re no toy,” Chanyeol replied, his lips curled upwards in amusement. “I have no intentions of playing around with you.”

Baekhyun laughed and shook his head. “Yeah sure, that’s what you rich men always like to tell their prey at the beginning,” he replied, his tone surprisingly light-hearted.

“Is that so?” Chanyeol said with a small smirk. “Come on, why do you always choose to see the worst in me? Give me a chance, I’m sincere about being friends with you.”

Baekhyun did not reply and instead flashed him a strange, knowing smile.

He felt like Baekhyun would forever remain an