Author's note: a semi-long chapter for a semi-long hiatus. Enjoy!

Chapter 5

A few months earlier…

“Jongin, what are you doing?” Baekhyun queried amusedly from his desk, watching his fiance get tape all over himself. “Shouldn’t you be working too?”

Jongin turned to Baekhyun, lips quirking up in a smile. “Well, I thought I might tape pictures of you up at my desk, to remind myself of your beauty.”

Baekhyun suppressed his giggle. “Jongie, I work literally right next to you.”

“Double the iness, then,” Jongin whispered huskily, winking at him.

Their manager passed by. “Hey, lovebirds! Stop flirting and start working. Jongin, I expect to see your report at least half done.”

As Jongin whined something about Baekhyun’s iness distracting him, Baekhyun hid his pink-tinged cheeks behind a folder.

There was definitely an advantage to working beside his fiance.

“You look really beautiful in that,” Chanyeol complimented, smirking amusedly at the way Luhan squeaked in startlement and nearly fell over.

The item of clothing which Chanyeol was speaking of was a black and white soccer jersey, the number 88 printed in bold white letters on the back. Chanyeol thought it perfectly matched the black and white soccer ball that Luhan had nearly tripped over. Of course, this soccer ball would play a huge part in Chanyeol’s plan to seduce Luhan, so Chanyeol could forgive it for trying to trip his beloved.

“You can’t mean that,” the older boy stuttered, regaining his balance and blushing.

“But I do,” Chanyeol insisted, sidling up to his crush confidently. “And I’d love it even more if it was off.”

To his surprise (and slight annoyance), Luhan burst into a fit of giggles. “Oh, Channie, you silly thing. You’re hilarious.”

The younger boy scowled, upset that his darling had brushed him off as if he were no more than a stray piece of grass on his y soccer jersey. Mmm, that y soccer jersey...ooh, the way it revealed Luhan’s y, y arms…

Chanyeol’s drifting mind snapped back to attention as Luhan coughed, feeling uncomfortable under Chanyeol’s predatorial gaze.

“Anyways, Lulu,” Chanyeol began, aware of Luhan’s curious gaze, “can you teach me to play soccer?”

At that moment, the firm ‘click’ of a door closing caught their attention, and Chanyeol watched in frustration as Minseok ran over to Luhan, completely ignoring the youngest of their group.

But that wasn’t what made Chanyeol irritated. Oh, no. It was the fact that Minseok was wearing the same. Freaking. Soccer. Jersey.

Yeah, it was pretty much identical in every way. The same blaring white 88, the same black polyester, everything.

Except that it didn’t make Minseok look ier like it made Luhan look. Maybe it was just Chanyeol’s jealousy speaking, but it kind of made Minseok look uglier… than he already was. Hah! Burrrrrrn.

Again, Chanyeol was torn out of his furious thoughts by Luhan’s sympathetic words.

“Aww, Channie, I promised Seokkie that I’d play soccer with him today. Maybe another time, okay? I promise.”

“‘Kay,” Chanyeol groused, dragging himself away from the scene. Now what?

Well, he hadn’t visited Jongin’s grave since the funeral. He needed someone to talk to about his boy problems, so who better to talk to than someone who couldn’t talk back or tell Luhan?

It was settled. He would go today.

Jongdae’s trying to replace Jongin.

The realization sparked another round of tears, and Baekhyun squeezed his eyes shut, letting the salty droplets roll down his cheeks.

He watched them trickle down the sink, tinged with black and that was when Baekhyun absentmindedly remembered that he was wearing eyeliner.

I’m an idiot. I should have worn the waterproof kind. Now I’ve given my colleagues something else to gossip about.

For the first time since he entered the empty bathroom, he looked up at the mirror.

I look like a mess.

Black eyeliner was smudged near the corners of his eyes and on the tips of his eyelashes. There were twin trails of faint black leading from just above his cheekbones to the sides of his chin, contrasting with his grayish, sleep-deprived skin and giving him a slightly ghoulish visage. With a sigh, Baekhyun splashed water on his face, scrubbing it furiously. When he looked up again, his eyes were bloodshot, the lack of eyeliner revealing dark bags under them and his cheeks were flushed. He studied his appearance again, mildly interested.

When was the last time I didn’t wear eyeliner?

He heard footsteps, and Jongdae’s voice.

“Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun held his breath, waiting for the bathroom door to click open.

Fortunately, Jongdae either didn’t notice the bathroom or was too lazy to care. The footsteps grew softer, signalling Jongdae’s return to the office.

As soon as he was sure that Jongdae had left, Baekhyun walked out, his head held high again. No matter what he looked like now or what emotion he had shown back in the office, he was not going to give them any more to gossip about.

I didn’t need eyeliner anyways.

“Two bunches of whatever’s good for graves,” Chanyeol drawled at the florist, leaning against the counter lazily.

Okay, maybe he’d never really liked Jongin. He’d tolerated him, for Baekhyun’s sake, but the younger man was just too… two-faced. One moment he’d be oozing with confidence, and then the next, he would be flustered and shy. Sure, he treated Baekhyun right, and loved him and all that, but Chanyeol and Jongin never did get along.

Still, it would do good to honour him. He loved Baekhyun, and that was good enough.

As the florist passed him a small, tied-up bouquet, Chanyeol threw a couple of bills on the counter and left, following a hunched-over, small figure bundled up in an oversized black coat.

As he walked along the path to the graveyard, he realized that the guy- or girl- was still in front of him, walking to the same section that he was.

Okay, maybe this person’s relative or friend had a grave near Jongin’s.

But as the figure crouched down at Jongin’s grave, extending pale fingers to caress the tombstone, Chanyeol realized that wasn’t the case.

Before he had time to ponder if he’d seen this person at the funeral, the figure whipped their head around, revealing a small face that was- well, most likely- male. Cheeks flushed with cold, and maybe embarrassment, his doe-like eyes gazed at Chanyeol with fury and fear alike, and his plump, pink lips parted to say-

“Why are you following me?”

Chanyeol jumped, tearing his gaze away from the male’s distinctive features and blushing. Indignant at being caught staring, and at the man’s accusatory tone, he scowled.

“I wasn’t following you! Jongin’s a, um, friend of mine, too!”

The male scoffed uneasily. “Well, if you say so. You’re done, right? Leave!”

Chanyeol snorted, tossing the parcel of flowers onto the dew-covered grass. “Who are you, anyways? I don’t think I saw you at the funeral.”

A haunted look flittered across the male’s expression. “I… well, who are you, anyways?”

“My name is Park Chanyeol. I’m Baekhyun’s friend. Y’know, Baekhyun, Jongin’s fiance and all?”

The beautiful, round features that Chanyeol had been partially glaring at glazed over with an unreadable expression.

“Of course I know him.”

“Great. What’s your name?”

The male paused and then gave Chanyeol a half-smile, which made his face light up.

“My name is Do Kyungsoo. I was Jongin’s best friend- well, one of them, anyways.”

Chanyeol watched as the bitterness spread across Kyungsoo’s face, and he sighed, annoyed. This was getting to be simply depressing. Well, he’d try to bring up the atmosphere. He leaned forwards and smirked.

“So, are you single?”

Unexpectedly, Kyungsoo threw his head back and laughed, showing pearly white teeth. It was more of a derisive laugh than anything, but it was a good start.

Kyungsoo’s laughter died down, but a sneer remained. “Single? Yes. Gay? Yes. Interested? No.”

Chanyeol rolled his eyes. “It’s not like I’m interested in you, anyways. I like someone else.”

“Who?” Kyungsoo inclined his head, large eyes staring curiously.

“His name is Luhan,” Chanyeol mumbled, eyeing Kyungsoo distrustfully.

“And?”

“Well, it’s a case of unrequited love. Or at least, unrequited for now.”

Kyungsoo let out a low chuckle. “I know too much about that.”

Baekhyun crept back, unnoticed, into the office. It was a good thing sometimes to have a cubicle near the door.

As he slipped into his chair, he felt Jongdae’s gaze boring into him.

Ugh. Ignoring it, he delved into his work determinedly.

Around five minutes until lunch break, a snippet of loud conversation caught his attention.

“I know, right? Byun is such a douche.”

Baekhyun’s ears pricked up at the snobby female voice, wanting to know what rumours were circulating around that were about him.

“What’s so bad about Mr. Byun?” a young male voice queried.

“Oh, Jungie. It’s already been a week since you came here and you still haven’t heard about our dear colleague’s troubles?” the girl cooed maliciously.

“Unnie, I really don’t think we should be talking about him,” a higher-pitched female voice piped up. “What if he hears?”

“Hyunnie, darling, he’s gone home crying, remember? Anyways, Baekhyun was engaged to that total god, Jongin. Jongin’s parents were rich- basically rolling in piles of gold. The only reason he was working here was because of his fiance, who was in love with him- or rather, in love with his money.”

A familiar bile rose up Baekhyun’s throat as he resisted the urge to walk over and slap that woman silly. Jongdae’s repulsed, angry look signified that he had heard it, too, but Baekhyun shot him a warning glare.

“So then Jongin dies, and Baekhyunnie no longer had access to his money. So what does he do? He seduces the poor dead guy’s brother, so that he can get back the gold!”

Baekhyun frowned as Jongdae began to stand up, opening his mouth.

The woman chuckled. “And then our Baekhyunnie has his precious money again. Now, isn’t that a-”

“A terrible, false, rumour-ridden accusation?” Baekhyun interrupted contemptuously, scraping back his chair and standing intimidatingly, smirking inwardly as the group jumped in fright.

The woman who had been speaking widened her eyes. “I-I thought you left!”

“I know,” Baekhyun responded dryly. “But obviously, that’s not true. Keep spreading rumours like this and I’ll make sure you end up jobless.”

As he gathered his things to go for lunch, ignoring the woman’s flustered excuses, he looked over at Jongdae, narrowing his eyes.

“Thanks for your attempts, but I can stand up for myself.”

With that, he strode out of the office, eager to get out.