When Chanyeol grows up, he wants to be a tree.

He would have this huge trunk people love to hug, and he would lend them shoulder(s) to cry on when they’re sad. He would watch as a pair of birds make love nests on his nose just because they give him something to look forward to every morning, and he would stay awake all night guarding the wolves that hide under his shadows. It’s a win-win situation because it is more productive to be an immobile plant, always staying in one place, than to roam around all alone, not having anyone. At least to him, it is.

The best part is definitely not having to worry about what to put on the table later at night because, hey, who needs to eat when he can synthesize his own food? Oh how he loves the perks of being autotrophic.

He would spend his day waiting for windy boy to stop at his branches, and when he really comes Chanyeol would close his stomatas and listen as the boy whisper sweet nothings to his ear.

Worst part must be having unicorns somewhere near his roots. But that’s another story.

But to be quite honest, even if he dreams it, will it come true?

When the orphanage he grew up in crumpled down in a fire, conflagrated by an unknown force, no one questioned how it happened. Lost kids without a place in this world were as much of an importance as another dandelion in a field of daisies. Nobody cared. Nobody saved that old oak tree by the corner, leaves scorched into dust. The windy boy didn’t even bother to come.

When Park Chanyeol stepped out of the burning building with a gash on his forearm, he walked out with a Zippo in his back pockets.

-

If somehow his parents rise up from the dead, they would whack Chanyeol so hard on the head that he would be seeing stars.

Chanyeol, 22, local thug. Too good to be on the sheriff’s blacklist. Too bad to be just your average shoplifter. It’s nothing to be proud of, but he beats up people for a living. He can’t be too satisfied with this life either because he doesn’t actually do the beating. He threatens those who come as a threat to his clients until they run away and he gets his rewards, pieces of green that spark so bright in the dark.

This time, it’s a little pastry shop in a little corner on the street of Apgujung2dong, its rival steamed bun vendor called Chanyeol in one day to settle the ordeals. It’s all fresh and new; Rainbow it is called, and no matter how cringe-worthy it sounds, the ladies love it. That’s when Chanyeol and his pack come in the picture.

“You don’t need to do much damage. The thing is, that little pastry shop has been growing a lot lately. I’m just afraid they would run us out of business,” his client said, his chubby cheeks flushed with anger, “Just trash the place and tell the owner to leave.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Chanyeol grins a little too creepily and snags the green notes from his client, “You won’t regret doing business with us.”

This is just too easy, Chanyeol thinks as he leaves the store with a bright smile and a lifetime supply of steamed buns on his grocery list, courtesy of his generous client. Beside him, he can see Jongin, two years his junior, smirking mischievously. Baekhyun, eyes already thick with eyeliner, clicks his tongue in anticipation. The faster they get the job done, the more they get to sleep in. It’s just the three of them but Chanyeol likes to refer to his little group as a pack.

But really, they work for a burly-set guy who is underling to another burly-set guy whose boss works for a mafia boss who run a notorious gang called Wolf. They basically take over all of Seoul. This is their territory. So Chanyeol does have something to boast about to his parents (if they ever come back to life).

The first thing Chanyeol notices when he first steps foot in the pastry shop is the color. Saying that it’s like something you would see in a Barbie princess movie would be an understatement. As if the pink-washed walls weren’t enough to make Jongin throw up in disgust, it’s the fragrance of freshly baked brownies and cookies and cheesecakes mixed with freshly ground coffee that drive the three up the wall. Tables were disguised as fluffy clouds and chairs were in colors of rainbow. Even the chandelier has star-shaped lights hanging from the ceiling.

Chanyeol, Baekhyun and Kai, who wear baggy basketball clothes, bandannas covering half of their faces and baseball bats held menacingly in their fists, stand out like a sore thumb. Some of the schoolgirls who have just got out of cram school actually shriek and stand up to leave.

Jongin went for the tables first. His kicks sent them flying. Baekhyun yelled for the remaining customers to leave. Chaos was in the air. Chanyeol gulped in anxiety. Something just didn’t feel right.

Indeed it didn’t. The minute Chanyeol swings his bat at the glass display of cupcakes, a hundred and forty-one pounds of human flesh jumps onto his back, nearly knocks all the air out of his poor lungs. Arms clamp around his neck, cutting off his air supply, while soft hands of said person gently attempt to pluck all the hairs on his ing head. Chanyeol feels light-headed because his body hurts and his head hurts and who is this kid that’s choking him to death?

“What the hell are you doing? Get out of my shop you hooligans!” Shrill screaming is pounding in his ear before Kai lungs at him from the corner of his eyes and knock the body off Chanyeol’s back. Chanyeol catches sight of rainbow hair and pink apron just as the lithe body of a boy not much older than himself throws himself at Baekhyun, shouting, “Don’t touch that! Get out!”

Chanyeol looks at Jongin who returns the gesture shaking his head.

“Silly boy, your order is not ours to follow,” Chanyeol growled in his raspy voice, attempting your average thug look as he charges for Rainbow-head and removes him from Baekhyun. With his fist in the boy’s collar, Chanyeol smirks as the boy stands on his toes. (Chanyeol loves the fact that he’s a giant according to Korean height standards)

“What the hell do you want, then?” Rainbow-head winced, his eyes dauntingly murderous. Chanyeol gulped.

“I want you to get the out of this town. This is our territory. Do you seriously think you can get away with not paying us anything and run your business?” Chanyeol croaked, sounding more intimidated than intimidating. He is not sure if his insides are rumbling for him to get out because he-can’t-ing-threaten-this-little- or he’s actually going soft on those puppy dog eyes and cute plump lips.

“Who ever said this is your territory?” Rainbow-head sneered, his eyes going dark. It’s all in the eyes. They’re Chanyeol in. He’s trapped, doomed, screwed, however you decide to put in.

“Why, you, no manners,” Jongin clicks his tongue before throwing another chair into the farther wall. Baekhyun signals him to stop and retreat before it gets worse. Chanyeol, in a very not obvious way, takes a glance at the boy’s name tag. Oh Se Hun, pastry chef, it reads. He instinctively gulps again, his throat going dry. It’s very evident how his day would end. Not a pretty sight.

Chanyeol is not sure how Rainbow-head frees himself out of his iron fist, but he did, and is now holding a very intimidating-looking spatula (probably made of iron), aiming for Chanyeol’s head.

“Get. out. Or I’m calling the police.”

When Chanyeol walked out of the disgustingly-sweet pastry shop, he walked out with a gash on his head and various other injuries that will leave him scarred for days to come.

-

(The next time Chanyeol comes to the little pastry shop in a little corner of Apgujung2dong street, he isn’t so lucky because the rainbow-haired boy has a boyfriend whose black belt in wushu is thicker than the black eye Chanyeol ended up with.)

-

One fine spring day, Sehun breaks up with his wushu-panda AB style boyfriend.

Not that Park Chan Yeol particularly cares. It’s just that he’s made the rough bench on the sidewalk across from Rainbow pastry shop his bed, so things like this is just hard to ignore. Over the past month it occurs to him that Rainbow-haired never leaves the shop to go home without Slit-eyed by his side. They are sickeningly-sweet and it causes bile to rise up in Chanyeol’s throat when he catches sight of them glued at the waist. (And particularly the way Rainbow-head looks at Slit-eyed and smiles.)  

But then Panda boy stops coming. After they sort of fight in front of the pasty shop (Chanyeol is not sure if they were fighting but it looked as if Rainbow-head was crying from where he was lying on the bench), Rainbow-head goes home alone. He doesn’t know if he should pity the boy or feels happy about it, because Chanyeol thinks Rainbow-head sure deserves it.

“Why do I even bother,” Chanyeol grunts under his breath, careful not to let the boy know of his presence. It is not until he sees rainbow hair turning the corner that Chanyeol stands up from his hiding place and follows the younger’s footsteps. Stalking his supposingly-arch-enemy, who unfortunately left a permanent wound on his forehead with a spatula, is not something Chanyeol should be doing, but something does not sit well with him ever since Rainbow-head has to walk home alone.

So he follows him like a shadow, wishing that somehow his stomach would stop growling. Rainbow-head stops in his tracks before Chanyeol’s stomach does. Before him is a group of drunkards trying to look cool. Their eyes say everything Chanyeol need to know.

“Look what we have here, such beautiful face, “ The leader of the gang slurred, his his voice full of lust and desire, “Baby, hang out with us, it’s going to be fu-”

“HEY! GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY BOYFRIEND, YOU !” Chanyeol comes charging at them at full speed, his head pounding and vision blurring. He doesn’t always picture himself as the hero type, but when he does act heroic, he looks like an idiot.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Why, you little . Don’t you know who I am? I am Park Chan Yeol, member of Wolf, this is MY territory you’re standing on!” Chanyeol growls and watches as the leader pales. They all retreat on cue, too scared of the name to risk their lives. Under the dimmed streetlights, Chanyeol looks into the eyes of a certain Rainbow-haired boy, half-expecting a hug or even a kiss to the cheeks.

He gets none.

“Thank you, but I could have taken care of it on my own,” the boy says coldly. Chanyeol’s heart freezes in place.

“It’s not me being kind. I just hate these idiots on my territory, so you don’t need to thank me,” Chanyeol replies just to save the last bit of dignity and enigma that he has left. Nice answer, Chanyeol.

“You mean, Wufan hyung’s territory? And since when are you my boyfriend?”

Chanyeol gasps. This is the beginning of a tedious, cringe-worthy, sobby and face-palming love story to come.

~~TBC~~

A/N: dafuq i just wrote @@

will update the last part tomorrow because im lazy like that T_T