“So this is it!  I think I’m finally going to tell him.”

 

 

Baekhyun bounced up and down in the booth, barely able to contain himself.  Sehun looked encouraging – or as encouraging as his expressions ever got when Luhan wasn’t in the immediate vicinity – and offered a tiny smile. 

 

 

“It’s about time.  You two have only been dancing around each other for what, two years now?”

 

 

“A year and nine months,” Baekhyun corrected.  He couldn’t sit still, couldn’t decide what he wanted to do.  He fidgeted with the napkin dispenser on the table, rearranged the salt and pepper shakers, started to get up but sat back down.  He pulled the straw out of his smoothie, swirled it around and pushed it back to the bottom of the glass.  Sehun watched him with an increasingly widening grin. 

 

 

“So what are you going to do?  Just march up to him and announce, ‘Chanyeol, I love you’?”

 

 

Baekhyun’s face drained of colour so quickly that Sehun was momentarily afraid his hyung was about to faint.  “I don’t even know,” Baekhyun whispered, suddenly dejected.  He slumped in the seat and stabbed at the bottom of the glass with his straw again.  “I just… It’s time, you know?  I’m tired of him not knowing.  I’m pretty sure … I mean, you said – everyone said – he probably at least likes me, right?”

 

 

Sehun patted his hand condescendingly.  “At the very least,” he said.  “You’ve only been best friends and room-mates for how long?”

 

 

Baekhyun responded by smacking his arm lightly.  “You know what I meant,” he said, scowling.  Sehun gave a quiet chuckle.

 

 

“I know what you meant.  I’m pretty sure he at least likes you.  Why else would he put up with you?”

 

 

“Why do you?”

 

 

Before Sehun could reply, a lilting voice chimed from behind him.  “Nihao!”

 

 

Sehun’s face lit up in a dazzling smile, and he threw himself out of the booth at the new addition.  “Luhan!  You’re here!” 

 

 

Baekhyun turned and watched with barely-concealed envy as Sehun threw his arms around the shorter idol, beaming.  Luhan laughed and hugged him back, asking about how he’d been.  When they settled once again at the table and Luhan had ordered a drink, Baekhyun found he couldn’t watch them anymore.  The easy camaraderie – despite Sehun’s overwhelming love for his Chinese hyung that would have crippled Baekhyun in similar circumstances – was harsh to watch when his own future was so uncertain. 

 

 

“I’m going to go,” Baekhyun said.  Sehun tore his eyes away from Luhan with a nearly audible effort.

 

 

“Wait,” he said.  “Are you going right now?”  He pushed at Luhan to be let out of the booth, and Luhan obligingly stood. 

 

 

“Yes…?” Baekhyun said, suddenly uncertain.  “Why?”

 

 

“Come to the restroom with me.  You have to look better than this.” 

 

 

Feeling like an adolescent girl, Baekhyun trailed bemusedly behind Sehun as the maknae lead him towards the toilets.  Like a clucking mother hen, Sehun arranged his hair so that it fell just into his eyes and withdrew an eyeliner pencil from one of his pockets.  Long used to having himself fussed over for stage and television appearances, Baekhyun submitted patiently while Sehun ‘made him look better.’

 

 

“I’m so jealous,” Sehun said wistfully, straightening the fall of Baekhyun’s jacket.   This startled the singer out of the daze he’d fallen into, and he blinked, suddenly focusing on the maknae.

 

 

“Excuse me?”

 

 

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Sehun said, alarming Baekhyun.  “But you’re just so pretty.  You and Luhan and Kris and Lay, you’re just so…” He made a frustrated gesture with his hands, unable to find the words he wanted. 

 

 

“I’m so glad I rank with the Chinese members,” Baekhyun said, earning a chuckle from Sehun.  It was no secret that Sehun idolized Exo-M, mostly because of Luhan.  Truthfully, Baekhyun thought to himself, he was the most envious of Luhan.  Sehun adored him without shame; it was pure, unadulterated love and the elder Exo members were quietly taking bets on how long Luhan would hold out against him.  From what Baekhyun had seen, if they weren’t already in an active relationship, it wouldn’t be long.  It was the sort of thing he wanted with Chanyeol.  Easy and friendly and loving.

 

 

Not that friendship’s not good, he thought, turning to look in the mirror.  With his bottom lip caught in his teeth and the wistful smile brought on by thoughts of Chanyeol, and the fear and tension in his eyes over the coming confrontation – he looked all of about thirteen years old.  He grimaced.  A hot thirteen year old; Sehun was no slouch with the makeup.  He firmed up his expression, and met Sehun’s eyes in the reflection.

 

 

“You look really good,” Sehun said.  “Kick his feet out from under him, tell him how you feel, and kiss him,” Sehun said, and added, “Fighting!”  He winked.  “Don’t give him a chance to run away.  You know how he hates discussing his feelings.”  Sehun held the door open and gestured for Baekhyun to go through.  He went back to the table to leave a tip for the waitress who’d been serving them, and earned a whistle from Luhan.

 

 

“Damn, Baekhyun. Knock him dead!  Good luck!”

 

 

Feeling suddenly shy, Baekhyun waved goodbye.  He was pretty sure Luhan didn’t see it, as Sehun had reached the table by then and the diminutive Chinese singer only had eyes for the maknae.  Baekhyun took a deep breath to steady his nerves and left the café.