When he said he really needed a job, he thought Sehun was going to get him something related to the foodservice industry. Which he kind of did, Chanyeol guesses, but definitely not in the ‘I work at McDonalds and tar grease now saturates my pores’ way.

“Can you lift it up a little more? Closer to your mouth.”

Chanyeol raises the squarish piece of cantaloupe an inch further, breathing deep through his nose. His eyes are closed, mouth wide in a grin that depicts none of his angst and more of his apparent love for cantaloupe. (Even if he might actually be allergic to the fruit, but who would know?)

“Excellent, thanks Chanyeol.” Lu Han mutters, lens shuttering for the thirtieth time this evening.

Chanyeol drops the piece of fruit on the table with a sigh, rubbing his fingers into his eyes. Honestly, they don’t need thirty shots for one crappy picture. The worst part is the fact that they’re not even done yet, the ever-increasing stockpile of photos being just that, ever-increasing. Sure, perfection is key since it will bless the walls of their local supermarket, but thirty shots? Thirty shots and more to come? How many angles are they able to take of a cube of cantaloupe for goodness’ sake?

With his eyes locked on the camera screen, Lu Han clicks his way through five star DSLR quality photos. “I think it’s banana season coming up soon so get ready for a whole new range of exciting photos.” He throws an exceptionally seedy wink along with a less than heartening grin.

Chanyeol tries to hide the groan that’s building in his throat, imagining just what Lu Han will force him to do with the banana. The worst part is the fact that the man will choose the most innocent shot as well, like the hour he spent filming soft-core was for his own personal enjoyment. Which it is, Chanyeol thinks with a grumble. Yeah, he knows all the tricks now. No innocent deer face can fool him… anymore.

“Why don’t we use the spare photos from last year’s banana season?” Chanyeol reasons, raising his eyebrows at the photographer. God knows how many leftover photos Lu Han collects in one session, Chanyeol’s sure there’s more than enough for the next decade of yearly banana produce.

“Nah, nah,” Lu Han shakes his head like Chanyeol’s proposed the worst idea imaginable. He tsks, closing his eyes. “The customers want change. They know you now. You’re Fruit Man, their Fruit Man. They want to see how you have grown as time passes almost as much as they want to take a bite into their sweet harvest. You’re half the fun now, Chanyeol.”

Fruit Man, Chanyeol grumbles, kicking his foot into the linoleum floor rather pathetically. Just his luck that he managed to acquire the worst nickname possible. Sure, like every other kid, he wanted to be a superhero when he grew up, but this isn’t what he had imagined when he was a bright-eyed 10-year-old.

The thing is, for a local fruit model, Chanyeol is surprisingly popular. Despite his constant grumbling about the photographer, Lu Han is good at what he does. He makes Chanyeol look nearly as delicious as the fruit itself, which is a real achievement for the tall man. Many a time has Chanyeol been stopped at the local supermarket by the suburb’s adorable older companions and asked if he was their beloved fruit man. Of course, it’s not a name he wishes that caught on, but when the ahjummas come wobbling after him with a look in their eyes that make it seem like they’ve met someone G-Dragon level famous, Chanyeol can’t help but smile back and say yes.

Plus, the work gives him good pay. Lu Han is not as stingy as he looks, delving deep and giving Chanyeol more than enough to buy a significant portion of fruit. He’s really not as bad as a ‘boss-photographer’ as Chanyeol makes him out to be, especially when Chanyeol kind of likes posing sultrily with the fruit. What can he say, it brings out his inner flirt.

“You’re getting good at this, you know,” Lu Han says once they’ve packed up the fruit and Chanyeol’s eaten four cubes of cantaloupe. He finds out rather quickly that , he is allergic. Where’s the water? Damnit.

“Huh?” He eloquently returns, pouring nearly a whole bottle of water over his tongue and waiting for the itchiness to subside.

“You’re able to pull out all the moves in the blink of an eye,” Lu Han clicks through the photos on the camera and forces the device in Chanyeol’s face.

They did the cantaloupe and berry shots today. Despite Chanyeol’s status of Fruit Man, the grocery store will only take one set of photos. They have other models too surprisingly. Apparently, a shop filled only with pictures of Chanyeol, the Fruit Man, is a little unreasonable.

Which is fine, Chanyeol guesses. It’s like that saying ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ but instead of absence, there’s just less of Chanyeol—which is pretty much absence, right? No? Maybe?

“I guess I’m just finding my inner fruit,” Chanyeol shrugs, water bottle still in hand. “Not something to be ashamed of.”

“But you were ashamed,” Lu Han points out, raising an eyebrow. “You were all ‘can you just take pics from the neck down please?’ during our first shoot.”

Lu Han isn’t lying, but Chanyeol has changed a lot since then. He’s still a little grumbly about the name Fruit Man, but other than that, the work hasn’t been too bad. Chanyeol gets a 20% discount at Fruit Haven after all.

“If you keep this up, I may even ask you to come model for my weekend shoots,” Lu Han pats him on the back when they’re leaving the studio.

“Wow, thanks hyung,” Chanyeol responds, slightly dry, trying to ignore the threads of interest flickering in him at the idea. So what that he’s become somewhat of a narcissist? Just the thought of seeing his lanky body on the large billboards around town gets him antsy. Lu Han does work for some pretty big name brands. “I may just stick with the fruit.”

The words come out before he can close his big mouth, and by the time he regrets them, Lu Han is already responding.

“Suit yourself, Fruit Man.”

Damnit, Chanyeol closes his eyes when they exit the building. He just missed his chance of upgrading to actual work. Now he’s stuck in the fruit industry forever. Surprisingly, a CV with ‘beloved local model affectionately named Fruit Man’ doesn’t seem to get him anywhere. Or any jobs for that matter.

As well as Lu Han pays, there isn’t a constant stream of photos needing to be taken for the grocery store. It’s more of a seasonal pay kind of thing, which really doesn’t bode well with Chanyeol’s bank account. Because if anything, he tends to order a lot of that he probably doesn’t need. And buying said correlates consistently with the dwindling numbers on his most recent bank statement. Almost too consistent for him to think about without feeling nauseous.

“This ,” Chanyeol rubs his face into the soft bedding, ignoring the two loud shoryukens that pierces the silence. What follows is the unmistakable sound of Akuma’s ultra combo, and well, yep, Sehun lost.

“,” the younger boy swears, and Chanyeol thinks Jongin gets kicked in the leg when he hears a high-pitched ‘ow!’. “You cheated by picking the most OP character.”

“It’s called playing smart, Sehun,” Jongin responds, a grin in his voice. “Plus his ultra took me like 2 hours of practice before I realised I could use the d-pad instead of the joystick.”

“Hello,” Chanyeol lifts his head to stare into the backs of his two friends. Jongin still has the store-tag on his shirt. “I said ‘this ’.”

“Yeah, but you chose Akuma at the very last second. That’s the ultimate dog move.”

“This ,” Chanyeol repeats, this time a little louder.

“You were about to pick Cammie, I had to retaliate.”

“Hello!” Chanyeol yells, finally gaining the attention of his two annoying friends. Unworthy of being called his friends, really.

“What’s up Chanyeol?” Jongin asks, not even bothering to turn around. He’s responding now though, so that’s a plus despite everything.

“Get me a job,” he responds, chin propped up on his arms. “A real one,” he inserts just as Sehun opens his mouth.

“What? Fruit Man not getting enough buck?” Sehun turns from the character selection screen to eye Chanyeol. “You’re practically a local celebrity, you know that right?”

“There’s only so many fruits every season before I’m out of a job.” Which is sadly what has happened right now. Lu Han had called him up for their banana photoshoot and the rest is history i.e. nothing has happened since. The last he saw of the money rolling into his bank account was said money rolling out of his bank account, used to buy only the most important of items—a giant rilakkuma plushie. Needless to say, he’s pretty much broke right now.

Sehun hums and Jongin scratches his head but neither of them look like they have any potential ideas.

Until Jongin does.

“You could become a star.”

“Is Fruit Man not enough? Do you want me to be known as the local Man too?”

He shoots a look towards Sehun, rolling his eyes as if to say ‘what a load of rubbish’, because it is—except, Sehun looks slightly enamoured with the idea, staring at the slightly older boy as if he is onto something here.

Why is he friends with these two again?

Sehun snaps his index finger out towards Jongin. “And he can use the fruit as props too! When is cucumber season?”

“ off,” Chanyeol throws a pillow over at the two, ignoring the shrilly yelps and one ‘ nearly chose Dan by accident’. “A serious solution, please.”

And that’s when Sehun speaks, voice three layers heavenly and sparking a flint of an idea through Chanyeol.

“Why don’t you apply to be a student rep leader? I heard they get good pay.”

*~*

Chanyeol is in his last year of university. He’s done the mandatory—or not so mandatory—three years and is finally completing his fourth year courtesy of the honours program. Then he’ll be done. Finally. Just like that.

There are a lot of facilities their university provides. Their library ain’t bad, their gym is decked out not too shabbily and their bar has student nights nearly every day of the week. Set-up wise, it’s great. Site location wise, maybe not as much.

They’re big—big. Sandstone buildings are beautiful and all, but they quickly stop being beautiful when you’re lost in between three of them, scrambling to walk all the way around one just to read the signage on the front. There’s a large park area that’s called the Great Court, and should really just be called the Great Park, because there are no courts. Maybe a Courtney, occasionally, if they’re lucky.

There’s also (another) large sandstone building known reverently as the Steele Building—a name Chanyeol had initially mistaken for as the ‘Steel Building’, searching almost as vigorously as possible for a building made out of such material. For nearly three days straight.

They also have a lake, seven (playing) fields and a memorial garden.

Needless to say, their university is huge.

And so when Sehun had said student rep leaders get paid good money, there’s a reason why they do. They help a lot of newcomers, a few stragglers, and are always on the ball to cheer up current students with wacky rhymes and de-stressing social media posts. They assist students and can help advocate for change in the university, which is actually an extremely powerful student role. They do , and they get paid for it.

The paying part is what Chanyeol is interested in.

He knows how the university works by now. Currently, he’s stuck dealing with new students, which is kind of the lowest of all the roles, and he hopes he’ll be able to upgrade to the Advocates Role sometime soon. Then he’ll be able to provide that good, good confidential service; leaving reviews and complaints on behalf of the students. He can’t wait.

As for now, he is a simple SRC (“What’s SRC?” “You’ve been at this university for three years Jongdae, Student Representative Council?”) member, doing the hard, menial work.

“Hey, how do I get here?” A first year asks, eyes squinting on his mobile screen and zooming in on a red building.

“You walk down this way,” Chanyeol points directly in front of him, grin unshakable. “Until you reach a big metal statue thingo that looks like a giant bird, and then you turn left. It should say the name on the building.”

“Oh…” the boy begins to walk, eyes on the screen, not even daring to give a simple thanks in return. The smile drops from Chanyeol’s face and he tsks. Ungrateful little bastards.

“You’re doing some hard work now, huh?”

It’s Kyungsoo.

“You know me, always happy to help,” Chanyeol waggles his eyebrows and sends the younger an overly exaggerated wink.

“Of course, Park Chanyeol, the biggest helper out. You’re doing this oh-so conscientiously too huh, and I’m sure it has nothing to do with its six-figure salary.”

“Don’t mock me, I wish it was six figures,” he grumbles, lip turning downwards in sadness. Man, he can only imagine what living with a six-figure salary would be like. No more deer bosses, cantaloupe or ungrateful friends. What a life.

“Aw, well, if anything, I think you’re doing well?” Kyungsoo compliments, knocking him in the ribs with an encouraging smile.

“Thanks dudely-o,” Chanyeol replies with a grin and two Naruto-worthy thumbs up.

When Kyungsoo compliments you, that means you’re doing real good. More than real good, you’re probably doing spectacularly. No matter what, the man will give you a low score anyway. And then he’ll say it’s because he doesn’t want to ‘boost your already inflated ego Chanyeol, jeez’. Whatever that means. Pfft.

Kyungsoo is his friend though, so it’s nice to get compliments even if Chanyeol doesn’t really need them. They’ve been friends ever since Chanyeol had accidentally walked into a music class, which wasn’t really an accident but that’s what he had told the tutor. By luck, chance, fate, Kyungsoo was the only individual sitting in the back. That probably had something to do with the small man’s gtfo stare, Chanyeol shivers at the memory.

Alas, at the time, Chanyeol had poked the poor student in the shoulder for almost a minute before the smaller man had turned and faced him. His eyes were wide with angry fire, a look that probably should’ve made Chanyeol back off. It didn’t.

They’re friends now. Have been for a while. Whenever Chanyeol’s half-interested in the finer points of sound production, Kyungsoo is there for him, stuffing an assignment down the tall man’s throat and saying:

‘Here, it’s like you’re a Bachelor of Music student. This is the theory you wanted, right? ’

Yeah, it is but Chanyeol’s half convinced he’s being scammed. Kyungsoo sometimes buys him lunch which kind of makes up for it. Maybe.

“Another year though,” Kyungsoo hums, fiddling with the strap of his backpack. It’s dark blue in colour with a cute little penguin on the side. Tuxedosam, Chanyeol vaguely remembers the younger boy saying, he’s a Sanrio character. “Why did we choose to do Honours again?”

“Because we’re high achieving students and we think this helps us in the job market?”

Kyungsoo hums again and Chanyeol takes the time to admit that the smaller man kind of looks like the penguin. Albeit not blue and somewhat more human.

“I’m so sick of coming here, I feel as though I know literally every inch of this university,” Kyungsoo briefly glances at the informational map Chanyeol’s holding in his right hand.

“Me too man, me too,” Chanyeol releases one long sigh. His fingers clench slightly around the soft paper, creases developing under his grip. “There’s a reason why they took me in as an SRC member after all.”

“Hey,” Kyungsoo whips his gaze back, finger raised in mid-air. He’s pointing at Chanyeol, a movement that causes great unease to spread through the large fellow. The last time he remembers Kyungsoo pointing at him, he had tears in his eyes—okay Chanyeol had been a , and all backlash was probably very much warranted. Sehun had then slapped him in the face. Also, probably, warranted, but still hurt like a ing . Even just the memory ignites a flame of pain running through his face.

Sehun and Kyungsoo are like half-boyfriends though, so Chanyeol really should’ve expected it. Their strange relationship toes very much in between the lines of hard out gay and uhh-I-think-I’m-(kind of)straight? Yeah, Chanyeol doesn’t really understand it either.

The taller boy takes a step back, surreptitiously glancing around to see if Sehun is within slapping distance. He isn’t, thankfully. Not that Kyungsoo isn’t able to beat Chanyeol up, because he is. Small in stature, large in ferocity. And strength. And everything that Chanyeol is not.

“Um, yeah?” Chanyeol replies, slightly meek. He never really knows what the Kyungsoo will do. A simple ‘hey’ could mean ‘hey, why the are you so annoying *BAM! *’ or maybe ‘hey, why does Sehun stay over at your house so often and what do you mean you guys have kissed before *ka-POW!*’. “He was curious, okay?! And he was the one who asked me!”

“Um.”

“I said that out-loud, didn’t I?”

“Have I ever said that you are a very strange individual, Chanyeol?”

“Multiple times,” Chanyeol admits, head falling down to face the concrete. “What were you going to ask sorry?”

“Oh, I just have a friend who is new to the university, thought that our special SRC member would be able to help him out.”

“Yeah, sure,” Chanyeol looks at the crinkled map in the palm of his hand, crunching it even further in his grasp. It’s his job after all. “No worries.”

*~*

The weather is slightly cool when Chanyeol walks out of his final class for the day. He shrugs his coat on, hastily rubbing at the bare skin of his biceps. He’s supposed to meet Kyungsoo’s friend now, so Chanyeol shuffles over to one of the main eating areas, eyes eagerly searching for a ‘relatively petite man with ashy blonde hair’.

It’s a description that should be quite easy to spot in the midst of black hair galore, and he does—or he thinks he does at least, walking towards the boy. Once he gets relatively close to said boy, Chanyeol drops his gaze. Kyungsoo didn’t say his friend was hot, damn, more than hot, even. Surreptitiously giving the boy a once over, and then a second one for good luck, Chanyeol lets his eyes roam. God, those… that… who… Nice.

Nice.

To his own surprise, the boy seems to notice Chanyeol from the side and walks up to him, eyes practically shining in excitement. He’s even more gorgeous up close, ashy blonde hair (Kyungsoo wasn’t wrong) draping over his eyes and making him almost mysterious.

Get a hold of yourself, Chanyeol, he thinks. This is a first year. Practically a federal offence.

“Chanyeol, right? Park Chanyeol?” His voice is slightly at odds with his soft looks, deeper than what Chanyeol would’ve expected. It’s something that renders the SRC member speechless, so he nods, still in shock.

“Y-yeah,” he shakes his head and clears his throat. Bad impression already. Loosen up, Chanyeol. “That’s me. Baekhyun?” He returns, trying to ignore the inappropriate feelings welling inside of him. Look at that face, and those lips, and those eyes and hair and soft. So soft. Beautiful.

“That is me!” Baekhyun straddles the straps of his backpack and pulls hard, a very enthusiastic motion that draws Chanyeol’s attention and makes his heart stutter. God, this boy is too beautiful. Why didn’t Kyungsoo tell, no, warn him?

A federal offence, Chanyeol reminds himself when Baekhyun’s smile does not wane.

“Oh, well, um, it’s nice to meet you,” Chanyeol remembers to say, reaching an arm out.

“You too, Chanyeol.”

Baekhyun’s (pretty) hand is warm, grip tight and appearing to contain none of Chanyeol’s angst. Of course this kid would be perfectly fine, excited even, to start his new life here. Meanwhile, Chanyeol’s the one with weak limbs and jelly joints, half-dead over fluffy blonde hair and puppy worthy eyes.

“Have you checked the campus out?” Chanyeol asks, trying to make conversation. And trying to force his mind to think of something besides how attractive Baekhyun is. He forces himself not to look when the other raises his right hand, the side of his thumb rubbing at the space between his eyebrows. A move so ordinary should not be so attractive.

“Nah, this is my first day besides some orientation I had to do.”

Chanyeol nods. They had orientation for first years last week.

“Yeah, the campus must look a lot different with everyone here now,” Chanyeol smiles.

“Yeah man,” Baekhyun runs his fingers through his hair. “All these kids running around everywhere now. A bit overwhelming.”

Chanyeol can’t help the smile that crosses his face. Baekhyun, the real first year, calling everyone else a kid. Cute.

“Did you do anything over your break?” He asks, diligently. If he’s being honest, he does have a set of questions that he tends to ask new students. This is number four on that list.

“Nah, just worked.” Ahh, the stressful part-time job life, Chanyeol wishes he could understand. Wishes he had a stable enough job. “It was pretty uneventful besides from that. How about yourself?”

They’re standing in the middle of busy student traffic, so Chanyeol guides them towards a less hectic area, seating Baekhyun and his overly large bag (what first week student needs that kind of stuff?) on the bench.

“I worked too,” he responds, mentally shrugging in his head. He kind of worked. For a little bit. A few photoshoots with Lu Han is all, really, but he did work. That’s practically the work of hell in Chanyeol’s opinion.

Baekhyun sends him a grin in response, hands resting to lay behind him. It’s a move that makes his body flex, and Chanyeol tries to ignore the severe effect the sight of strong bicep muscle tone does to him. Damn, this… boy.

Illegal, Chanyeol thinks. Or at least, he tries to think. It is illegal, right? Unfortunately, no LLB here, so his knowledge of everything Law related is very much hazy at best. This is something he feels as though he should know though, even if he makes the law up in his head. Beautiful (probably) underage boys are not anything that he should be infatuated with, even if they are very much beautiful and have beautiful adorable moles right next to their beautiful cute thin lips.

Chanyeol clears his throat, hoping his face isn’t as red as he currently feels it should be right now. Knowing him, he’s probably blushing like an in-season roma tomato. Yeah, he knows all the varieties of tomatoes. Yes, it came with the job.

“So, where did you need help getting to?” Chanyeol asks, ignoring the fact that his cheeks feel hot, and therefore, are most likely red.

“Um,” Baekhyun quickly slings his backpack off and searches through his bag. A few seconds later, he pulls a white sheet out. A timetable, Chanyeol thinks faintly. “This one?”

He points at his schedule and Chanyeol blinks. It’s more of a ‘teachers only’ building, but there are a few classes that are held on the first floor. He thinks so at least. Maybe. Well, there must be if Baekhyun has a class there. Either way, it’s not for Chanyeol to question. They could’ve swapped around buildings this year. Who knows what this university does, honestly.

“Alrighty, this way.”

Chanyeol jumps off the bench with all the enthusiasm a fourth year student really shouldn’t have, but Baekhyun grins at him regardless, something that does send a flurry of goosebumps running through his skin.

Damnit Chanyeol, he tries to remind himself. Underage. Not legal. Illegal.

They talk along the way, and Baekhyun asks what he did besides work during the long break. Chanyeol goes into detail about starting League and immediately they fall into conversation about if Chanyeol likes the game, #TeamKha’Zix or #TeamRengar, and then ending with Baekhyun asking about his elo before finding out that Chanyeol isn’t even Level 30 yet.

“What?” Baekhyun gasps in outrage. “You don’t play ranked?”

“I have to admit it,” Chanyeol hangs his head in shame. “I’m a Dota player. Dota is my number one moba.”

“That’s it, you’re thrown out of this university. I’m sorry, I don’t make the rules.”

Baekhyun has a very serious expression on his face for a period of 0.3 seconds before he bursts out into a fit of giggles, Chanyeol following soon after.

.

They eventually make it across campus, and Chanyeol smiles when he sees Baekhyun stare in awe.

“Damn, these buildings are old.”

“We’re a very prestigious university, you see.” Chanyeol nods, threads of pride building inside of him.

“Well, thank you for helping me and showing me where these buildings are,” Baekhyun turns around to face him with a smile on his face. He fiddles with the strap of his backpack and Chanyeol can’t help but grin back.

“No worries, if you ever need any more help, you know who to call.” Chanyeol raises his eyebrows and points a thumb to his chest. “Or if you want to bust my about how I am at League…”

It’s an offer that Chanyeol knows sounds like he’s insinuating something else. Like a next time. Like a date. And he is, kind of, because Baekhyun, despite everything, is super cute. And there’s only really a three year between them—which is nothing if Chanyeol waits a year or two. There’d be no ‘barely legal’ status hanging over Baekhyun’s head anymore or anything.

That sounds incredibly seedy, doesn’t it?

Regardless.

“Hmmm…” Baekhyun ponders, the same somewhat seductive smile curling his lips upwards.

“Mr. Park, always hanging around and never in class, I see.” A voice interrupts them from behind.

Chanyeol turns and his eyes light up. Professor Kim, one of Kyungsoo’s lecturers Chanyeol has had the pleasure of meeting. He’s probably one of the only ones that don’t mind when Chanyeol comes to the tutorials, even if he isn’t a music student at all. A nice guy, honestly.

“Sorry sir!” He responds with his mandatory cheeky grin. “I’m a Student Rep leader now, didn’t you know? It’s my job to help those out there.”

“Sure,” Joonmyun shakes his head, but the smile that remains shows he isn’t too mad after all. “Who is your friend?”

Chanyeol opens his mouth to say Baekhyun is a new student but the other beats him to it.

“Hello, my name is Byun Baekhyun.”

Joonmyun’s eyes light up and he steps forward.

“Byun Baekhyun? Ah, I’ve been waiting for you! My name is Kim Joonmyun, we’ve chatted via email.”

“Oh!” Baekhyun meeps out, moving forward with a bashful smile on his face. He bows low and then reaches a hand out. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

The whole exchange causes Chanyeol’s head to run for a loop. It’s so intimate for a first time meeting, especially for a Professor-Student meeting. And for Joonmyun to say that he’s been waiting for Baekhyun?

“Yeah, this semester should be great. You’ve worked at other universities before, right?”

“My old one, yeah.” Baekhyun nods. And what? Who. Huh? “Never been a lecturer though, so this should be fun.”

“It’s not too bad, you just have to look past all the heads faced down into their laptops. It kind of grinds on your nerves at first, but you get used to it.”

What’s going on? Old university. Lecturer. What? Who? Chanyeol looks at Baekhyun with a surprised expression on his face. His mouth is dropped open in shock, and when Baekhyun turns to face him, congenial smile still happily stuck on, Chanyeol stutters.

“W-wait, you’re… not a student?”

It’s Joonmyun who answers instead, voice booming with vibrato.

“Of course not. This is one of our new lecturers for our Music department. Associate Prof. Byun Baekhyun.”

*~*

“I didn’t tell you,” Kyungsoo begins, holding his chopsticks up high in a way that makes Chanyeol only slightly nervous. “Because I thought you would ask him? It’s not my fault you automatically assumed he was a first year.”

The fact that Kyungsoo sounds so reasonable only happens to make this whole matter even worse. Chanyeol’s still wondering how he so grossly mistook, well, everything. Baekhyun’s not a first year. He’s not even close to being a first year. He’s a grown man, complete with a master’s degree and is now teaching. Not in the way students sometimes teach in tutorials. He’s an associate professor.

That’s ing significant.

And yet, Chanyeol still thought he was a student. A first year. God damn. Chanyeol thought he was barely legal, standing at the front entrance with that bright-eyed glimmer a newcomer starting college would have. Of course, that glimmer would die in due time, most likely when all the assessment started piling up.

Except, Baekhyun isn’t that.

He’s nothing like that. That bright-eyed glimmer probably had something to do with the fact that he would be giving out assessment, complete with the knowledge that he doesn’t have to suffer through essays and exams anymore.

Practically diabolical.

“But, he, who…” Chanyeol’s eyes run past Kyungsoo before they stop on a tall figure walking in through the front entrance. “Hey! Sehun! Here~”

Kyungsoo chokes on a noodle.

“You didn’t tell me Sehun was coming,” he coughs out, smacking at the middle of his chest with great fervour. And nervousness too if the expression on his face says anything. Chanyeol’s such a great friend.

“Sorry, I actually had plans for lunch with him first. You know you just tagged along after class, right? I’m too nice of a person to actually say sorry go away.”

He is, he really is. Chanyeol’s wide grin manages to combat successfully against Kyungsoo’s withering glare.

“Hey hyung,” Sehun’s voice is relaying that exceedingly soft tone Chanyeol has noticed is an indicator for Kyungsoo being within the surrounding area. And Kyungsoo is in the area, Chanyeol notes astutely, wide grin unfailing. “And hey, um, Kyungsoo-hyung.”

“Hey, hell—hi Sehun,” Kyungsoo smiles, wiping his lips and chin with haste, as if worried remnants of noodle soup defiles his heart-shaped smile. Then, he crooks his head leftwards and shoots Chanyeol with another glare.

It has no effect. Maybe he should be worried considering Kyungsoo lives like, three minutes away from his house. But hey, he’s just too happy watching all this unfold.

“How are you?” Sehun asks, a little shy, wispy voice turning even softer, something Chanyeol didn’t even realise was possible. The sweetness becomes almost too saccharine and suddenly Chanyeol’s prior happiness wanes. Okay, that’s enough. They can be sickly cute in their own time.

He just wishes he had someone doting on him as much as Sehun dotes on Kyungsoo. Or Kyungsoo on Sehun. Their obvious requited love is almost too obvious—to everyone but themselves, apparently. It’s always like that, huh, Chanyeol thinks, amused. Which quickly turns into him thinking about it, unamused, because the fact of the matter is that he is decidedly unamused.

It’s time for business, you see.

“Okay, so I need ye guys help,” Chanyeol cuts off Kyungsoo in the middle of his somehow even, goddamn, softer response to Sehun that had been stretching along the lines of I’m great Sehun, it’s really nice to see you ::heart-shaped smile::.

Kyungsoo doesn’t respond because he already knows the latest news and gossip concerning Chanyeol and what seems to be the tall man’s current predicament. Sehun, however, sits forward, eyebrows crossing such that of a concerned best friend in a way only a concerned best friend can experience. God, Chanyeol loves his friends.

“Jongin and I already gave you ideas on becoming a star, what else do you want from us?”

God, Chanyeol hates his friends.

“What? No! Huh, ugh.” Shaking his head, Chanyeol lets his tongue hide under the crevice of his teeth to make that discontent ‘tsk’ noise he’s honed and perfected through copious amounts of anime watching. “That’s—why did you have to say that in front of Kyungsoo?”

“I am now very curious,” the small man admits with a shrug.

“Well stop being curious, because that isn’t why we have gathered today!”

“Then, what’s up?” Sehun sits further into the chair and rests his chin on the tips of his fingers. A particularly adept pose for thinking, if that one statue is correct.

“Chanyeol needs some love advice.”

Kyungsoo stretches out the word love, heck, he says it in English and adds extra ‘o’s to make it sound like loooooove. If anything, it bastardises the word, corrupts it in such a way Chanyeol wants to knock Kyungsoo in the face with his elbow. Because he knows the younger man is making fun of him again, and if anything, he really needs a break.

“Love advice?” Sehun blinks, adequately rearranging his pose from The Thinker to become something along the lines of strange hippie love guru. “Well,” Sehun lets out a laugh, raising a hand to flick away non-existent hair from his eyes. His current hairstyle is deceptively short. “You’ve come to the right place.”

“The wrong place, actually. Definitely the wrong place. And I definitely accidentally called both of you here today, by accident. You’re welcome to leave, I know I am ready.”

“You know he won’t be interested in a kid. I remember his old boyfriend was like the son of Kogas’ CEO.” Kyungsoo absently notes from the side, voice too cheery for Chanyeol’s liking. “No pressure.”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol speaks, dryer than Kyungsoo’s latest batch of cupcakes. Yeah Kyungsoo. He lied. They weren’t very nice at all. “No pressure at all, huh.”

“Can someone fill me in on the details?” Sehun inserts from the side, bravely taking a step to wave his hand in front of both Chanyeol and Kyungsoo and their apparent passive aggressive staring contest. Chanyeol’s left eye twitches a miniscule amount, but he inwardly cheers when the younger man’s lids succumb to gravity and admit their defeat. That’s right.

“Chanyeol’s infatuated with my neighbour.”

“So he’s your neighbour,” Chanyeol muses, tapping the curve on his chin. He was wondering how Kyungsoo seemed to know the man. Now that he knows, maybe he can stake out Kyungsoo’s house, you know, simple recon stuff. Trying to gain ground on the enemy, ahem, target. Chanyeol lives close enough to them, should be easy, no sweat.

“Your neighbour,” Sehun repeats. “Who has dated Kogas’ CEO’s son.”

“Yep.”

“And you think Chanyeol will be able to woo him?”

“Hey!” Chanyeol inserts loudly, gaining a number of irritated glances. Oops. “I’m a pretty decent guy.”

“Yeah,” Sehun snorts, rolling his eyes and sharing a far too relatable glance with Kyungsoo. “For a Fruit Man.”

“I’ll have you know, Lu Han wanted me to model for him,” he crosses his arms together, head shaking from side to side. “Professionally, like clothes modelling,” he then adds when it seems like Sehun is going to interrupt. Interrupt and talk about Fruit Man. He’s a goddamn superhero, okay? What does the son of Kogas’ CEO have on a superhero? Captain Planet better watch out.

“Yeah, but this guy has dated an actual famous person, not someone Kyungsoo’s grandma gets excited about because she sees your face on the wall at the supermarket.”

“Why are you bringing my grandma into this?” Kyungsoo turns to ask Sehun.

“What,” the youngest doesn’t even blink, too used to being interrupted. He shakes his head. “My point remains. Billionaire to Fruit Man? In terms of dating, I think your exes are supposed to be worse than your future partners.”

“Please, I’m sure I have better qualities than a stuck-up billionaire… son…” Chanyeol trails off when he tries to think what these qualities could be.

“His name is Minseok and he has strong muscles.” It’s short and sweet, and it hits too close to home.

“I have muscles too!” Chanyeol blurts out immediately, raising his arms in the air to show said muscle. “Muscle tone of some kind! I had muscles at least okay, abs too! But it’s better like this. Soft and squishy and… and…”

“Okay, it is adorable,” Sehun admits, reaching a hand out to push at Chan-tummy as it is so affectionately called within their group. He turns to face Kyungsoo, the tip of his index finger still out to poke at soft skin. “He does have the tummy going for him, he’s not wrong.”

“Yeah, see,” Chanyeol jerkily waggles his eyebrows, voice exuding nothing but smugness. Probably too much smugness for a simple ‘soft tummy’ but hey, he just got praise from Sehun. That’s a big feat.

“What else does he have?” Kyungsoo tries to think, and then he tries to think some more. The amount of time it takes watching the man just sit, finger grazing the soft of his chin, is depressing.

“Hey, stop!” Chanyeol complains, knocking Kyungsoo in the side with his shoulder. A flicker of satisfaction runs through him when he sees the younger man jolt in his seat. That’s what Kyungsoo gets for making fun of him. “Please, pretty please? You guys are my best friends, help me?”

He layers the words with just enough sadness to make his friends feel guilty, and he inwardly grins when they straighten up in their seats, their remorse almost tangible.

“Okay, okay, sorry. So, yeah, what else does Chanyeol have?” Kyungsoo asks, tone a bit more serious this time.

“Well… he’s Fruit Man. That’s for sure.” Sehun perks up from the side, eyes squinting as if to examine every tiny detail on Chanyeol’s body. “And he’s handsome, to an extent.”

“Thank y—wait…”

“He’s a model too, I guess. Somewhat of a model,” Sehun hurries on, not even pausing to let Chanyeol vent out his frustrations. “You can try and see if he’s impressed by your model status.” He turns to face Kyungsoo with a shrug. “That’s all I can think of.”

“Yeah, that’s all I can think of too,” Kyungsoo agrees with a nod. “Maybe that’s the best course of action.”

Meanwhile, Chanyeol purses his lips rather gloomily. What do they mean his ‘modelling’ job is his best quality? He’s pretty funny, and he resents that only ‘handsome to an extent’ remark. If anything, he thinks he’s quite handsome. Tall too. And… yeah. Funny. Wait, did he say that already?

“Hold up,” Chanyeol interrupts, eyes blinking quite fast. “So, you guys are saying I have to rely on my modelling thing. Nothing else. I’m good for nothing else?”

That… kind of hurts.

Immediately, his friends’ eyes soften and Kyungsoo reaches a hand out to touch at Chanyeol’s palm.

“We’re only joking, Chanyeol. You’re awesome. Why wouldn’t Baekhyun want to date you?”

“Yeah!” Sehun looks guilty once again, and he his head to the side with an encouraging expression. “You’re actually handsome, and somewhat funny at times.”

Chanyeol’s lips turn upwards despite himself.

“Thanks…”

“Just talk to him,” Kyungsoo says. “Honestly, that’s probably your best bet. You’re a nice guy Chanyeol, I think he’d like you. Even if you are younger.”

*~*

Chanyeol shuffles his feet against the rocky floor, absently locking his eyes towards the sky. It’s slightly cloudy, hopefully no predestined sign or omen of any sort. If he’s lucky, he’s scoring a date with Baekhyun today.

Currently, he’s waiting outside of one of the music buildings. Kyungsoo was nice enough to tell him Baekhyun is teaching a class here today, one of the Composition courses that Chanyeol is very much interested in. The only reason why he didn’t show up for Baekhyun’s lecture is the fact that he is trying to diminish just how kiddy he appears in the man’s eyes. He’s not a student, he’s a… model.

Yeah, nah, that’s not going to get him anyone.

A number of students hastily exiting the building pour out right in front of him like a leaky faucet bursting open. It shocks him into shuffling his feet, pressing hard against the rock pillar behind him. They chatter aimlessly, and Chanyeol can’t help but listen in when he hears a comment about a certain man he’s so desperate to see.

“Why the hell is he so handsome though? Like what kind of lecturer looks that good?”

“I have him for my tutes, he’s so thorough when he teaches us. I swear the girl who sits next to me has her jaw to the floor all hour.”

“I went up to him before class and he remembered my name, our hands brushed too. So like, yeah, we’re practically married.”

Chanyeol keeps on hearing more and more comments and he blinks. Lots. Wildly. Very wildly. This… wasn’t expected. Sure, Baekhyun’s a very handsome man but he didn’t realise just how much competition he was going to have.

The more he stands by the entrance, the more he hears these sorts of comments. They flow on like an endless stream; comments about Baekhyun’s pretty eyes and his slender hands, shaggy light-coloured hair and genial laugh.

All it does to Chanyeol is amp up his nerves, because as much as he was convinced a few laughs and perhaps a sneaky flex of the Chan-guns would win him a date, now he’s not so sure. Which because he is younger, a lot younger, just like all the other damned students. His rivals, his competition.

They’re all in the same boat here.

The trickle of students eventually peters out to become a negligible drop of one or two exiting at a time. So Chanyeol stands, letting his body adjust to his full height and praying to gain back some of that efficacious confidence he so had only a mere hour ago.

When he enters the building, his eyes immediately spot Baekhyun by the front, fiddling with the computer. The first thing Chanyeol thinks is the fact that the students weren’t wrong, Baekhyun does look especially handsome today, hair swept back and highlighting his rounded features. His expression is crinkled into what seems to be confusion as he continues to tap on the keyboard.

He’s wearing simple clothes, but it’s nothing that fails to stop Chanyeol’s heart from racing at the sight. Because if anything, he’s pretty sure the man looks even more gorgeous than last time. And, if he remembers correctly, that’s what had doomed him in the beginning.

Breathing in a lungful of confidence, Chanyeol slowly stalks down the now empty main aisle towards Baekhyun and the man’s confused expression. He inhales another breath when Baekhyun becomes even more handsome up close (how?), eventually stopping a few metres away from the man.

Baekhyun’s eyebrows crinkle minutely when he looks up. It takes less than a second before his eyes light up, seemingly remembering who Chanyeol is.

“Chanyeol! Hello! Nice to see you again.”

The smile he’s emitting just seems to radiate happiness and excitement, an expression of joy so infectious, Chanyeol can’t help but beam back.

“Hiya Baekhyun—or should I call you Professor Byun.”

Damnit Chanyeol, he thinks almost immediately. He’s practically student-zoning himself right on the spot. If anything, he should just keep on calling Baekhyun by his first name. Somewhat disrespectful, but they’d be on the same playing field then. Baekhyun might even like his display of gusto.

“No, no,” the man shakes his head, mouth still wide and curved in a grin. “Baekhyun is perfect.”

“Thanks Baekhyun,” Chanyeol raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck, slightly nervous. “Just wanted to see how you were going with the whole ‘new university’ and everything.”

 “Yeah, it’s been great,” Baekhyun pauses for a second and his eyebrows furrow slightly. “Except I have no idea how to work this interface.”

He points towards his screen and Chanyeol takes a step forward to see what’s wrong. Somehow, the man has managed to enlarge his screen, probably with the maximise button, and now all Chanyeol sees are a few extremely big icons and text to match.

“W-what?” Chanyeol giggles in response, immediately reaching a hand up. Oops, he wasn’t meant to laugh.

Instead of a negative response, Baekhyun just pouts.

“Go on, laugh at me. I can work Cubase to a ‘T’ but here, I… I… I pressed one button, okay? And now my life is ruined.”

“No, no,” Chanyeol walks up closer, ignoring the scent of smoky cologne that wafts past. Immediately tapping a few keys, he manages to successfully minimise everything on screen. “Here you go.”

“How. What.” Baekhyun shakes his head. “I’m getting way too old, I’m turning into my parents.”

“No,” Chanyeol shakes his head not even a second later. No way is he letting Baekhyun think he’s old at all. Especially when Chanyeol is not… old. “I’ve been confused by technology before too.”

He hasn’t. Well, not really. Born in the age of technology, he has lived and breathed the stuff ‘til now. What he has to do is lie though, because he needs to connect with Baekhyun. It’s not that he just wants to anymore, it’s become important, a need.

“Well, thanks for that,” the man smiles at him, eyes crinkling on the spot.

When the silence lingers on for a second too long, Chanyeol babbles away. Awkward conversation is better than no conversation… right?

“You know I’ve actually made music before too, definitely not as good as you, I’m sure. Like at all, I’m sure. Not even half as good, I mean um, not even. A quarter as good? I’m sure? ‘Cause you’re the one with the Master’s degree and I’m the one in university still, and, um, I’ll stop talking now?”

There’s a few ways to deal with Chanyeol’s word vomit, and most of them have to do with ignoring the catastrophic event. Unfortunately for the tall man, Baekhyun is smirking at him (which is better than an outright ‘what is wrong with you’, right?). His mouth curves at the ends, turning into an expression that Chanyeol hopes means he’s… fond?

No…

He’s being way too hopeful here.

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol lets his head hang like a wet cloth, dense and immovable. “I can’t handle awkward silences but usually I just make them worse.”

“Don’t apologise,” Baekhyun’s voice is warm, and Chanyeol ignores the delicate flutter he’s pretty sure his heart does in his chest. Similar to a tiny butterfly, or a pony galloping. Soft and sweet. Just like his feelings for Baekhyun. “It’s cute.”

Chanyeol spends a second with his mouth dropped wide open because Baekhyun called him cute, before he quickly stands up straight, clearing his throat. He blinks, slightly wild, hoping his mouth doesn’t run this time.

Baekhyun just called him cute. Baekhyun thinks he’s cute.

“Well, thanks for helping me,” Baekhyun smiles, shutting down the computer. He reaches over to grab his bag and pack away the few personal items that are scattered across the desk. Chanyeol notes a large textbook he remembers Kyungsoo carrying a few years ago. The elder man grips at his car-keys, spinning the ring around his finger before catching it. “And you said you make music too? I would love to hear it sometime.”

“Y-yeah, I have a soundcloud,” Chanyeol nods, reaching a hand up to scratch at his head.

Baekhyun smiles at him, but what he doesn’t do is prompt further. He doesn’t ask what Chanyeol’s username is, nor does he ask what programs he tends to use. Instead, he scoots a little past Chanyeol, leg sliding in front of him. It takes only a second for the tall man to realise that Baekhyun just wants to leave.

Deflating slightly, Chanyeol lets out a sigh. What was he even thinking? Everyone in Baekhyun’s class probably has a soundcloud, probably makes music. The man most likely has enough students already, why would he want to listen to Chanyeol’s music?

 “Well,” Baekhyun scants one quick glance at his watch, and the smile that Chanyeol observes this time is more polite than anything the younger can even try to pretend means ‘fond’. “I’m gonna head home. It was nice seeing you, Chanyeol.”

Wait. No.

This isn’t what Chanyeol wants. He had planned to ask Baekhyun on a date, not just let him slip through his fingers. What’s going on? He can’t let the other walk away like this.

And so as Chanyeol watches Baekhyun step backwards, his conversation with Sehun and Kyungsoo repeating through his mind like a mantra, he hurriedly yells out.

“I’m a model.”

.

That’s not what he wanted to say. That wasn’t anything close to what he wanted to say. And he yelled it at the worst possible time too.

But if anything, Baekhyun does stop. His feet halt, the tips of his right foot toeing against the coarse carpet. That’s Chanyeol’s overly positive brain talking.

The negative side of Chanyeol focuses on the man’s bewildered expression. As bewildered as it should rightly be. Baekhyun was on the verge of leaving and Chanyeol randomly, out of nowhere, yelled out that he was a model.

Honestly, Chanyeol feels like kneeing himself in the face, because firstly, what, and secondly, what.

“You’re a what?” Baekhyun stops and blinks, tilting his head to the side almost as if trying to hear Chanyeol better.

“I’m a… I’m a…” the younger man fizzles out, all gusto leaving him immediately. This is such a bad idea, why is he doing this? “… a model.”

Baekhyun’s eyebrow quirks up, and he bites his lip, giving Chanyeol a once over. The younger man stands up straight, feeling like a kid whose been caught red-handed by their eagle-eyed teacher.

“A model huh?” Baekhyun repeats and Chanyeol nods, all thoughts leaving him instantly. He doesn’t know what to do, what to say, all he knows is that he regrets telling Baekhyun he’s a model, because this is just embarrassing and what the absolute hell.

“Yeah,” he nods, once, committing.

Baekhyun stays mute for a few more seconds, eyeing Chanyeol down before he smiles and shakes his head. A complete 180. “Wow, a model? That’s sure something!”

“Yeah, ha… ha.” Chanyeol attempts a smile, but it doesn’t come out right, feeling like a scam. He is, kinda a model. But now, as Chanyeol watches as an attentive expression colours Baekhyun’s face, Chanyeol will repeat to hell and back that yes, he is a model, complete with a CV that states billboard status and everything.

Okay, maybe not that. He can’t show evidence for that.

Baekhyun keeps staring at him, a small smile curling his lips upwards like he’s finally interested in Chanyeol. Like going home doesn’t seem a very good option at this point in time. Which is good, Chanyeol likes this. This means the younger man has more time to charm the pants off Byun Baekhyun. Time he desperately needs.

“So, what do you model for?” Baekhyun asks, stepping closer. He actually looks intrigued for once, the polite smile from earlier on bleeding into real interest. “Any companies I know of?”

“Uh, well,” Chanyeol shrugs, smile plastered on his face. He sends the other a shrug, coughing out a laugh. “Just a few lowkey brands, you know? Nothing too big.”

Baekhyun nods again, seemingly interested in the topic. It makes the younger man feel slightly proud of himself. Or at least proud of himself before he remembers that, yes while he does model, at the same time, he doesn’t… really… model. What would Baekhyun think if he found out that the modelling Chanyeol is talking about surrounds purely around fruit? The fruits of his labour usually ends in an abundance of more fruit in Chanyeol’s house.

What he is surprised about though, is the fact that Sehun and Kyungsoo actually gave him an idea that worked. Chanyeol had only used it as a last resort, yelling it out when Baekhyun had practically one foot out the door.

“What brands?” Baekhyun asks again.

Chanyeol pauses for a second, brain scrambling as he tries to think of something to tell the man in front of him. “Um, Haven, it’s, uh, really lowkey.” He bites his lip almost instantly after, hoping that he sounds at least somewhat legit. Haven, Fruit Haven, whatever.

“Haven…” The man in front of him raises a hand to rest under his jaw, seemingly figuring out whether he knows this Haven brand or not. Chanyeol’s about to repeat for the third time just how ‘lowkey’ it is when Baekhyun snaps his fingers and looks up. “I think I know it!”

“O-oh yeah?” . Is there actually a brand called Haven out there? Or did Baekhyun, by any chance, catch onto Chanyeol’s lie?

“Yeah!” The older man nods enthusiastically, and for a second, Chanyeol thinks back to when they first met. He is also suddenly reminded of all the times he’s lied and been caught, and thus consequently reminded of all the other times he’s felt sufficiently mortified because of it. Oh god. “It’s that shoe brand right?”

Uh, that’s not what Chanyeol was expecting. And that’s also not what Chanyeol wants to be known as. A foot model? For what? Foot es? Okay, shoes obviously, but still.

Oh wait, Chanyeol blinks, he thinks he knows which brand the other is talking about.

“I think that’s Havaianas,” Chanyeol smiles in relief when Baekhyun nods, curiosity looking somewhat appeased. It’s then that Chanyeol chooses to jump in, deciding to take action and capitalise on his hard struggle of impressing Baekhyun. “Would you like to go on a date?”

Baekhyun looks shocked, and Chanyeol bites the corner of his lip in anticipation. The older man’s surprised expression softens, and Chanyeol’s heart calms when the other’s lips turn back into a smile once again. It’s a different smile though, something strangely secretive, almost as if he’s hiding a thing or two. But then the man nods, officially accepting Chanyeol’s proposition, and the younger stops thinking about any potential secrets. He just scored a date with Baekhyun.

“Sure, when?”

*~*

“Hey, look up a little further.”

Chanyeol crooks his gaze higher up, sighing when Lu Han lets go of the camera in front of him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Lu Han tsks, cocking his head to the side and taking a moment to really examine Chanyeol. The younger man drops his red glob of dragon-fruit (yes, they are getting fancy), absentmindedly glancing over the multitude of seeds throughout.

“Hey,” Lu Han nods his head, heavy gaze boring into Chanyeol. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Chanyeol replies instantly, too fast to seem like everything really is okay. He winces when Lu Han doesn’t look convinced, pressing the miniature plastic fork into the dragon-fruit and wincing further when he realises it’s now turned into mere mush. This is the third piece. “Okay, something.”

“You gonna tell me or am I going to have to stamp it out of you?” Lu Han asks, eyebrows raised.

“No stamping please,” Chanyeol jokes, quieting down when Lu Han continues to stare pointedly at him, unrelenting. “Hyung…” he whines when the seriousness does not abate.

“I’ve managed to weasel some secrets out of you Park Chanyeol, I’m just giving you time to tell me. It’s a much less painful experience, I’ve heard.”

That’s true, Chanyeol pouts. He remembers accidentally revealing a few things since he started modelling, secrets that were never meant to be spoken about out-loud i.e. The Sehun Kiss. Chanyeol still doesn’t know how the photographer did it. One second, he wasn’t even budging, all: nuh-uh, Lu Han, you’re never finding out. The next: it went on for nearly five minutes. Lu Han has some sneaky methods, stuff that’s borderline mind-control, Chanyeol’s sure.

“Okay,” Chanyeol finally relents, letting out a sigh. Lu Han will find out one way or the other, it’s probably better just to tell him willingly. “I pretended I was a real model to score a date with someone.”

He clenches his fingers tight, watches as they harden into a fist, and waits for the impending backlash. He assumes it will mostly be in the form of gratuitous laughter (some teasing on the side), but he hopes that Lu Han will be, at the very least, somewhat kind.

Except, what he’s expecting isn’t anything close to what he receives. Lu Han exceeds his expectations on the opposite scale, bending forward to give him a shrug as his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“But you are a real model.”

“What?” Chanyeol coughs out a laugh. Surely he must be joking. “No, I’m not. I’m Fruit Man.”

Lu Han shakes his head, face still drawn downwards in confusion. “Don’t understand why that means you’re not a real model. You model for me and I take pictures of you. You’re a model.”

“Yeah but… but…” he waves his hands out in front of him, trying to explain. “I’m… it’s for fruit! Not for clothes, or anything else.”

Lu Han’s lips crook into a smile, placing his camera on a large stool in front of him. He sends Chanyeol a fond look. “Chanyeol, what you’re doing isn’t any less model-worthy than what you think a real model is. Sure, it may not seem as prestigious as some of the other brands I also work for, but you are a real model. Don’t bring yourself down because you don’t think you are.”

Strangely, the words hit close to home, and the tall man finds himself pausing for a second, trying to reconcile everything. Lu Han isn’t making fun of him. Lu Han actually thinks that he’s a real model. Chanyeol happens a quick glance at the elder and pauses when he doesn’t seem to be joking. This isn’t one of Lu Han’s elaborate schemes to make him feel embarrassed.

The idea of being a real model takes some time to sink in, because it is hard to reconcile the fact that there are people out there who don’t think what he does is just an outright joke. Chanyeol does model after all, with fruit sure, but someone needs to do it.

Maybe he is a real model. No, he guesses he is a real model. He’s got the moves, the notoriety, he is a local celebrity.

And if—when Baekhyun finds out he isn’t a clothes model and decides Chanyeol isn’t good enough, maybe it’s Baekhyun’s personality that isn’t good enough for Chanyeol.

He physically deflates when his confidence runs out on him. Okay, he wants Baekhyun to like him. Except, this time he needs to be honest with the other man. He can’t lie about what type of modelling he does anymore. Although, if what Lu Han’s saying is true, then he doesn’t need to worry about being embarrassed. It’s his job, and it’s a job he does well. Fruit models deserve love too.

“Thanks hyung,” Chanyeol smiles at the older man.

“No worries Chanyeollie,” Lu Han picks up his camera again, adjusting the focus lens. He pauses and then looks over at the tall man. “You know, we can take some clothes brand shots and see how you go. If you are interested.”

Chanyeol takes a step forward, curiosity running through him. He is interested, he has been for a while. Maybe he might do it.

“Thanks Lu Han,” he says softly, moving back towards the dragon-fruit set. “I really appreciate it.”

*~*

Chanyeol rolls up his sleeves for the fourth time before he drags them back down, smoothening the fabric against his skin. He’s been on edge the whole day, ever since he woke up and realised that it was D-Day. He had laid down on Jongin’s bed for nearly an hour, watching as his two friends huddled around each other and casually ignored Chanyeol’s presence, too engrossed with their console.

It was only after Sehun had stood up to use the bathroom that he saw Chanyeol, half-dead and on his way to heavens’ gate. As such, it was then that he decided to stop and give some very helpful advice.

“Just try not to up.”

“Thanks…” Chanyeol responds, dryly, rubbing his lips into the soft duvet fabric. “Ask Kyungsoo out already.”

He watches as Sehun’s ears redden in embarrassment, and ignores the smug feelings welling up inside of him when the younger leaves the room.

It’s Chanyeol who’s learning his lesson now however, Sehun’s voice ringing through his ears like a grating chant. Just try not to up.

Just try not to up.

If he’s being honest, he doesn’t think he will. It’s just first date jitters along with the knowledge that Baekhyun is… older than him. Oh, and the fact that he’s told the other he’s a model. Except this time, Chanyeol tries to console himself with the reminder that yes, he is a model. And yes, he works at Haven. Fruit Haven, actually, but haven nonetheless.

He lets out a deep breath. He’s ed.

At the very least, he looks good, and what he does get is a slap on the back from both Sehun and Jongin when he leaves.

“You’ll do fine, hyung,” Jongin nudges him in the arm, small smile on his face. “Don’t worry so much.”

Just try not to up.

Don’t worry so much.

He doesn’t know which one he’s supposed to listen to.

The ride to the restaurant doesn’t take very long, and so he lets out a deep breath in the car, eyes closing. He forces himself to calm down, waiting for his heartbeat to slow. Okay, he can do this.

When he finally manages to walk inside the restaurant, his eyes instantly seek out Baekhyun. Chanyeol’s breath hitches when he catches sight of the man, dressed semi-casual in neatly tapered jeans and a fitting shirt. He’s striking, blondish hair handsomely coiffed away from his face and mouth curled into a smile.

“Hey,” Chanyeol breathes out once he reaches the table.

“Hiya,” Baekhyun responds, mouth widening even further. He looks happy to be here which surprisingly does bump Chanyeol’s mood up a positive note. If Baekhyun looks happy, then why does Chanyeol need to worry so much? They do have chemistry of some sort, and he does remember Baekhyun saying that he will add Chanyeol’s Battle.net tag—even if he hasn’t done so yet. Patience is a virtue, or so they say.

“How are you?” Chanyeol asks, politely. He blinks as the older man crinkles up the ends of his sleeves, patting them against his forearm. Hard, pleasing muscle tone is now suddenly revealed to the eyes around them. And Chanyeol’s eyes too. That’s an important thing. He tries to ignore the slight heat that blooms in his cheeks at the sight.

He can’t ignore the slight heat that blooms in his cheeks at the sight.

He’s blushing.

Baekhyun shrugs, amicable smile stuck on his face. “Not too bad, been busy with work. How about you?”

“Same, busy with work,” Chanyeol agrees. He’s busy with schoolwork that is, and the only reason why he doesn’t specify is to try and shrink this age-difference he feels so strongly under the surface. This is a working man in front of him, a man who pays his own bills with the salary of a tenured academic. Chanyeol doesn’t even pay his own bills.

Baekhyun’s lips quirk into a grin, the sight a little too dazzling for Chanyeol to fully comprehend. And also thus comprehend the words that are coming out of the man’s mouth. It takes an unlawfully long amount of time before Chanyeol realises what Baekhyun’s asking him.

How’s your modelling going?

“Oh!” He meeps out, rather pathetically and feeling embarrassed. He didn’t expect for them to jump straight into the whole model thing, Chanyeol hasn’t even had the time to tell the other how handsome he is tonight. “You’re very handsome.” , he wasn’t meant to say it then.

“Um…” God damnit Chanyeol, why are you always like this? “That’s—thanks. I mean—”

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol butts in quickly, clearing his throat and taking a sip of his water for good luck. He prays someone has swapped the water out with that super luck potion from Harry Potter. “That came out at the wrong time,” he sighs, watching through the corner of his peripheral vision as Baekhyun chuckles slightly. “My job is going fine, I had a shoot just the other day. But yeah, you do look very handsome tonight, though.”

“Thank you,” Baekhyun responds with a grin. He doesn’t seem to be embarrassed by the compliment and Chanyeol absently realises he probably gets it all the time. “How did your shoot go?”

For normal standards, Baekhyun is very polite. He follows up conversation topics with questions asking further. This usually would be a good thing, hell, Chanyeol’s sure this would be an excellent thing for literally anyone but him right now. And that’s because he doesn’t want to talk about his shoot, he doesn’t want to admit to the man in front of him what that shoot really entailed. Because as much as he thought he made peace with the fact that he’s Fruit Man, he really hasn’t. Not in the way he wishes, at least.

What Chanyeol really doesn’t want though, is to lie further. God knows how bad he is at it, and it’s just downright stressful. He’s in his final year, he doesn’t want more stress on top of everything. And so, even if he hasn’t made peace with the fact that he’s Fruit Man, he will tell Baekhyun everything anyway, just so he doesn’t need to lie further.

“Yeah, it went fine,” Chanyeol plays with the hem of his linen napkin, purposefully ignoring Baekhyun’s questioning gaze. God, this is embarrassing. “Although, I have something to tell you.”

He doesn’t need to throw a glance the other’s way to know that a shapely eyebrow is most likely quirked in interest. Hell, he throws a glance anyway and doesn’t know what he’s supposed to feel when he sees that quirked eyebrow right in front of him. Practically mocking.

“Oh?” Baekhyun leans slightly further, lips curved in his usual grin. It’s a strange sort of grin, slightly mischievous, like the man is in on a big secret or something—but Chanyeol just shakes his head. Baekhyun’s always had that grin, ever since he met him. “What is it?”

Chanyeol bites his lip for a full second, and then another full second—two full seconds—shrugging his shoulders, rather fleeting. But then he stops, because he knows, he knows, when he has this sort of attitude, he won’t actually divulge the real truth.

He must be taking more than just two seconds because Baekhyun’s smile widens even further, eyes crinkling under the force of his squishy cheeks. “Surely, it isn’t that bad.”

It isn’t. Or is it? Chanyeol has no idea how Baekhyun will react. Probably not in any way bad, but maybe he won’t get a call back after tonight. He doesn’t know this man at all.

Whatever, he’s gotta do it.

“I’m not actually…” don’t say model, say clothes model. “… a clothes model.”

Okay good. First part down.

Baekhyun’s grin doesn’t waver. “Oh? Then, what are you?”

“I, well, you know,” he twiddles his thumbs, cocking his head to the side and happening a glance at the other patrons around them. The restaurant is somewhat empty tonight, perhaps just to highlight Chanyeol’s feelings inside. Dead, he whispers. “I model, but not for clothes.”

“Then what do you model for?” Baekhyun nods, mouth wide.

Chanyeol pauses at the sight, flicking his gaze from Baekhyun’s face to the table. Throwing his hands out in mid-air, he shrugs, casual. “Well, you know. I’m—well.”

God, why is it so hard to just say he’s a fruit model. It’s not that embarrassing, right?

…Right?

It is. It is embarrassing, this is so embarrassing and Baekhyun just keeps on staring at him with that stupid -eating grin on his face. Why is he smiling so much anyway? Chanyeol swears he’s never seen the man this smiley before! Why is the world so cruel? God, why did he have to say—

“Chanyeol?”

“Huh?” He jumps slightly in his chair, wincing when his knee hits the underside of the table. A glass nearly falls down. Chanyeol feels like crying. “I’m…”

A fruit model. Is what he should be saying. Except, the words get stuck in the back of his throat, like a small woodland creature eager to burrow its way further down the heat and crevices of his oesophagus.

“You’re…?”

“A… a…” Spit it out, Chanyeol. You can do it.

“A guy who models with fruit,” Baekhyun ends succinctly.

“Yeah!” Chanyeol throws his face in his hands, the word coming out rather loud, almost too loud, for the quiet restaurant. God, why was that so hard to get out—wait, a second. “What?”

His hands claw on the tablecloth, mouth dropping wide open. Baekhyun continues to stare back at him, the same grin—-eating really is the most fitting term—unfurling his lips sideways. Now that Chanyeol realises it, it’s mischief colouring his face. Nothing but pure, unhinged mischief mixed with a devilishly handsome expression.

“You… y-you…” the words tumble out, his usual brain-to-mouth filter lost. He’s so confused. Did he accidentally mutter it out before? “How?”

“How did I know you model with fruit?” Baekhyun replies, lifting the glass of cold water to his lips. Chanyeol doesn’t even pay that much attention when the man’s lips wrap around the straw, too confused about the fact that Baekhyun somehow already knew. “You know I’m Kyungsoo’s neighbour, right?”

Yeah, he does remember Kyungsoo mentioning that. But how does that have anything to do with Baekhyun kno—oh.

Oh.

“We live near each other,” Chanyeol points out, realisation blooming in his voice. Oh, oh, oh God. “We, you, you shop at Fruit Haven, don’t you?” The words come out slightly hurried, tinged with worry. Oh God, Baekhyun’s seen him before.

And Baekhyun had known who he was. But for how long though?

“When did you realise it was me?” Chanyeol asks, throwing his face into the palms of his hands. All he knows is that he doesn’t want to look at Baekhyun right now, cheeks on the path to hell with the way they’re flaming. He’s sure he’s redder than a mid-season capsicum, cheeks as rosy as a Granny smith apple.

“I’ve been shopping at Fruit Haven for years,” Baekhyun prods, the words poking around Chanyeol’s little barrier of fingers that’s trying to keep the rest of the world out. And by rest of the world, he means Baekhyun and this horrible embarrassment.

“But… you didn’t realise it was me?” Chanyeol asks, peeking through the gap made between his index and middle finger. He scants a glance at Baekhyun’s face, quickly dropping his gaze when he sees the other’s shark-like grin. Oh God. What kind of divine punishment is this? And for what misdeed too? This is next level mortification, his fingers feel like they’re shriveling up.

“On the contrary,” Baekhyun’s voice comes out light and melodic as if enjoying the situation and thus, Chanyeol’s embarrassment. Honestly, him, Chanyeol thinks in his mess and despair. “I knew it was you from the very beginning.”

“From the beginning.” Chanyeol’s voice drops low, almost unbelieving. From the very ing beginning, from the day he took Baekhyun and showed him around campus.

“Ya-huh,” he nods and then shrugs, perhaps for good measure. Chanyeol doesn’t know what’s going on in that mind of his. “Our local superhero Fruit Man is very recognisable, also very handsome…”

That’s nice at least.

“… according to the ahjummas.”

“I hate you,” Chanyeol grumbles out, groaning into his palm once more. Why was he nervous around Baekhyun, again? Those nerves were most definitely misdirected. Obviously all he should be feeling for the older man is hatred.

Baekhyun laughs, loud and throaty, and Chanyeol grumbles once more when, at the sound, his stomach starts tying itself into knots. Betrayed by his own stomach, Chanyeol shakes his head in further despair. 

“I can’t believe you knew from the very beginning,” he reveals, voice shaking slightly. “And then you, you let me call myself a model in front of you.”

“Ah yes, that was an interesting turn,” Baekhyun nods, blinking. “I wasn’t expecting that. It’s not like you were wrong though, you are a model.”

That sounds like Lu Han, Chanyeol thinks in his head. And, they’re true words as well. He is a model, he just needs to wrap his head around it and accept the fact.

“I’m glad you think so,” Chanyeol lets out a sigh, fingers gripping at his hair and pulling slightly. “This is so ing embarrassing.”

Baekhyun laughs again, but this time he reaches a hand out and pats lightly at Chanyeol’s elbow. “Don’t beat yourself up over it so much. It was very interesting, almost like a sitcom. I wasn’t sure what crazy tale you were going to tell me next. Haven, huh?”

“I…” Chanyeol doesn’t even know how to respond to that. Baekhyun knew from the very beginning, and yet despite Chanyeol’s everything, he just went with it. Has he just been playing with Chanyeol’s feelings? Is that what this really is?

It’s a thought that makes him feel slightly uneasy, and when he happens a short look at the older man, he finds that he needs to know the truth. Why did Baekhyun decide to go on a date with him? Just to play with his feelings? Was this all just a big joke of a date, then?

And so that’s what he asks.

“Why did you even decide to go on a date with me anyway?”

“Because I was curious about what you were going to tell me,” Baekhyun’s eyes flash with excitement. “I wanted to know how this was all going to play out.”

Oh.

Chanyeol’s stomach plummets. He didn’t say yes because he wanted to go on a date with Chanyeol, it’s because Baekhyun wanted to see just how the tall man—no boy, because obviously he’s just a boy in the other’s eyes—faltered under pressure. Baekhyun just wanted to see how Chanyeol would embarrass himself. That’s all he is, a simple plaything for Baekhyun to pass the time with.

“And you really didn’t disappoint,” Baekhyun starts guffawing on the spot, not seeming to notice Chanyeol’s souring mood. His chuckles increase in volume and tempo, and he shakes his head from side to side. “I was surprised you were going to confess already though, I thought maybe the second date or the third.”

The words strike something foul in Chanyeol and he quickly barks back, stung. “So you were going to play me along for more dates, huh?”

Baekhyun pulls back, burned. He blinks, finally noticing the tall man’s icy exterior, the sudden guards now thrown up like a makeshift barrier.

“W-what?”

“That’s what you’re doing, right?” Chanyeol replies, wounded. He flicks his gaze downwards, watching as his fingers clench into fists. “Playing with me? You don’t care about my feelings, you just want to see me embarrassed.” He knows he sounds hurt, but that’s what he is. This ing . “Second date? Third date? Wanted to string me along for so long huh, because this is all just a game for you, isn’t it?”

“What? No,” Baekhyun shakes his head thoroughly, once, twice and then a third time almost as if trying to get it through Chanyeol’s skull. “I wasn’t. Honestly, I was… well…”

“See!” Chanyeol bites his lip, his eyes tingling. “I was just something to pass the time with, huh? Simple amusement? Because I’m young and expendable?”

“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun lets out a sigh, voice dropping low. “It’s nothing like that.”

“Then what?” Chanyeol bites back, eager to know what he is to the man. If not a way to pass time, then what?

“Sure, when you told me that you were a model, I was curious as to what you were going to say.” Chanyeol opens his mouth to say ‘see’, but Baekhyun puts a hand up, not yet finished. “But I wouldn’t have agreed to go on a date with you if I wasn’t interested.”

Baekhyun pauses for a second.

“You’re cute. You are, really,” he inserts when Chanyeol moves to say otherwise. “And I think we might have a shot together. You can be my protégé boyfriend.”

“I…” Chanyeol blinks, the words oddly romantic. The rhythm of his heart feels unsteady. “That’s ing weird.”

The other laughs, loud. “Yeah, okay let’s scrap that title.”

Chanyeol takes a few seconds to think over everything, still feeling slightly moody. But then he glances at Baekhyun’s face and instantly his heart speeds up at just how genuine the older man seems. Maybe Baekhyun wasn’t playing with him. Maybe.

Except…

“You should’ve told me you knew who I was,” Chanyeol grumbles out, a blush covering his face. “I felt really bad, you know.”

“Okay, I admit that was in poor taste, and I’m sorry for hurting your feelings,” Baekhyun sends him a set of puppy dog eyes and Chanyeol looks away, not wanting to forgive the other just so easily.

But then Baekhyun lifts his pinky finger up and says, “truce?” in such a cute way, Chanyeol can’t help but give in.

“Fine,” the tall man sighs, lifting his own pinky finger up and curling it around the elder’s. “You win this time.”

Baekhyun laughs loud and maniacal. “Ha ha! You have no idea what you’re really swearing to here,” he motions towards their linked fingers, “you could be caught in my evil grasp!”

Chanyeol pauses for a second, unsure what to say. He then tilts his head to the side. “… You’re really dumb.”

Baekhyun’s grin wilts away, and he sighs. “I know.”

But then Chanyeol beams, one of his really wide ones that make his eyes crinkle and show off the pink of his gums. Something he hasn’t done in a while. “I really like it though.”

And when Baekhyun smiles back, pinky finger curling even tighter, Chanyeol thinks they might work after all.

*~*

“And this is where the magic happens.”

Chanyeol pulls Baekhyun by the hand into the studio, throwing his arms into the air. The room is packed with the usual equipment: a white marble table, a few small kitchen benches, and a large refrigerator to house all the fruit and vegetables. The walls are coloured a bright yellow to signify the current zesty season, and to remind Chanyeol of the number of times Lu Han has thrown a lemon at him and yelled, “when Lu Han gives you lemons!”.

“Wow,” Baekhyun jumps into him from behind, wrapping his arms around the front of Chanyeol and back-hugging him. He pops his head out to the side, just so he can see. “It’s… homely.”

“That’s what it’s meant to be,” Chanyeol snorts, leaning back into his boyfriend’s embrace.

After a somewhat rocky start, they grew to become very fond of each other and have been together for nearly a month now. Despite the initial turbulence, everything has flown quite stably. They’re good for each other, Chanyeol realises. And they do match. As much as the age difference bothered Chanyeol at first, Baekhyun quickly notioned that it meant nothing to him. That had worked wonders for Chanyeol’s nerves.

Since then, Baekhyun’s been curious about Chanyeol’s workplace, eager to see where Fruit Man really shines.

And now that he’s seen the studio, there’s no more secrets between them. Everything is out in the open, as it should be.

Or so he thought.

“Baekhyun!” Lu Han cries from around the corner, lemon in hand. And really, what the .

*~*

“I had no idea your boss is Lu Han,” Baekhyun nearly cries from laughter in the car. “Minseok and I ended on good terms so we’ve met up a few times.”

Chanyeol sighs. He really should’ve guessed.

“Lu Han did say he was a photographer, now I remember,” Baekhyun nods his head, pointing at his chin. The dangling air freshener bobs against his hair a few times but the man doesn’t even seem to notice. “He and Minseok are so cute though, I don’t know why you keep calling your boss ‘evil’.”

“You haven’t seen his bad side,” Chanyeol shakes his head. He’s triggered by lemons now. “Really.”

“Aw, poor baby,” Baekhyun reaches over the gear-shift to rub at Chanyeol’s hair, moving up to plant a kiss on his cheek. “I promise, I wasn’t withholding this from you. I honestly had no idea he was the photographer behind the illustrious Fruit Man, okay?”

“Hmm,” Chanyeol grumbles again, but this time on purpose, hoping for another kiss.

Baekhyun acquiesces to his demands, smiling as he nibbles slightly at Chanyeol’s lip. This is nice.

“I promise,” Baekhyun whispers into the tall man’s mouth, voice dropping low. “I really do promise, Chanyeollie.”

His hands tangle in Chanyeol’s hair, dragging him down to kiss properly. It’s deep and slow, and by the time Baekhyun pulls back, wicked grin on his face, Chanyeol’s breath is gone.

“You might have to convince me some more,” Chanyeol says, breathless.

The last thing he sees is Baekhyun’s gorgeous face before he’s kissed again.

Okay, Fruit Man’s convinced.