Again warning y'all, this is heavier than I expected it to be. There's mentions of drug addiction, description of burns and a very brief allusion to suicide. Take caution, be prepared, but I promise it has a happy ending.

No matter how careful they try to be, there is always a risk of injury, always a chance that someone will get hurt. Not just on an assignment, but within the scope of their everyday activities. If someone does get hurt though, there’s a really good chance that it’s going to be Chanyeol. Fire is never something you want to mess with, and it’s really hard to control. Chanyeol actually does better controlling it under pressure, like on an actual assignment. But it’s really hard for him to control it on a normal day.

He’s not even sure how it happens, one second he’s fine and the next second his entire left arm is engulfed in flames. He manages to put it out almost right away, but the damage is done. As soon as the fire is out, he’s on the kitchen floor screaming.

Jongdae is the first one to respond—never mind that everyone probably a) saw the flames, b) smelled the flames, and c) heard Chanyeol scream—he pushes a button that sends an alarm wailing all over the house. Then he rushes to Chanyeol’s side and tries to hold him down.

“I need help!” Jongdae yells, struggling to get a hold of Chanyeol’s shoulders.

Chanyeol writhes away from him, he doesn’t know what he wants but it’s not Jongdae, it’s not someone touching him. He can’t stop screaming, not even to breathe, the pain in his arm is like nothing he’s ever felt before. It feels like it’s still on fire, Chanyeol wants to set it on fire again, because then it’ll kill the nerves and he’ll feel nothing.

Kyungsoo runs in next and together he and Jongdae grab Chanyeol’s shoulders and hold him flat on his back, and soon Kris joins and holds his legs down. Chanyeol shrieks, trying to get away from them, but it’s no use. On a good day he could probably take them, but now he’s hysterical, and what he thinks is a strong kick is more like a weak flop in reality. Still he struggles, trying to get away from the pain, from the smell of burned flesh, he’s going to be sick, oh god why won’t they let him go…

Then Suho’s voice croons at him, “Shh, shh, Chanyeol, listen to me, Yixing is on his way. He went out with Minseok and Lu Han but Kai went to get him, he’ll be here really soon.”

Chanyeol sobs and curls the hand that isn’t burned into a fist so tight he knows his nails are drawing blood, but his arm hurts so much that he can’t feel anything else no matter how deep into his palm he drives his nails.

Suho’s hands are in his hair, on his face, wiping tears away. “Try to breathe, just try, I know it hurts but you need to breathe.”

He can’t—it feels like the flesh is melting off his bones oh god make it stop.

“Yixing’s almost here, it’s going to stop, I promise.”

Chanyeol finally becomes aware of the fact that he’s stopped shrieking, now he’s just crying. “Cut it off,” he whimpers, “Just cut if off Suho make it stop please make it stop hyung help—”

Suho kneels over him and kisses his forehead. “It’s going to stop soon, I promise baby.”

It feels like hours. It’s beyond awful, it’s absolute hell. Chanyeol always manages to forget just how bad being burned hurts right before he burns himself again. He doesn’t even black out, though he wishes he could. By the time Yixing gets his hands on Chanyeol, Chanyeol’s too out of it to even be grateful. He doesn’t know if he’s crying, or screaming, or if he’s saying anything at all. He can feel it when Yixing starts to heal him, and in the first second it hurts even more than the burn did. All Chanyeol can do is jerk weakly against the hands of those holding him down, but it’s not like he’s really putting up that much of a fight.

His senses come back to him slowly as Yixing heals the burn. The smell of charred flesh makes him gag, and as the pain of the burn fades he can feel other pain. The cuts in his hand from his nails are still bleeding, his head throbs and his stomach rolls. Even the way feeling suddenly comes back to his fingertips makes him cringe. It’s all pain, he can barely take it anymore. When Yixing finally stops his arm still aches. Phantom pains, Yixing has explained, they happen because his body and brain know there was trauma, even though the burns have been healed. It’s not as bad as the burn itself, but it’s still a bone-deep ache that’s going to linger for hours. Chanyeol’s exhausted just thinking about it.

The alarm stopped a while ago, and now that he’s not screaming his head off the house sound eerily silent to Chanyeol. Even the silence hurts. He’s just so miserable now, he can’t believe he was stupid enough to burn himself again.

“Help me get him upstairs,” Suho says quietly.

Kris lifts Chanyeol up, carries him upstairs, lays him down in his bed. Chanyeol turns on his side, already seeking someone to cuddle with. Suho lays down next to him and gathers him into his arms. Never mind that Chanyeol is a good two heads taller than Suho, it never seems to matter.

Chanyeol nuzzles into Suho’s neck, inhaling the smell of his clothes and shampoo. It’s always so comforting. “Can I have some morphine?” he asks, his mouth pressed against Suho’s shoulder. He can barely understand himself, but somehow Suho always knows.

“Just a little,” Suho warns. “Just to take the edge off.”

Chanyeol mumbles something, he doesn’t even know what he’s saying but he hopes it’s a thank you. It’s a relief when he feels a needle slide into his arm. Morphine is good, morphine is his best friend, best friend since he was seven years old and burned himself for the first time. The best is the patient managed drips, where he gets a little button that he can push to release the morphine into his IV himself. Oh yeah, that’s the good stuff.

Suho’s playing with his hair and it’s so nice, all Chanyeol wants to do is sleep.

“You can sleep,” Suho tells him. “I’ll stay with you, I promise.”

‘You promise a lot,’ Chanyeol wants to say, but he’s already falling asleep. He fights it at the last second, squirming away and whimpering when he tries to move his arm. It still hurts like hell.

Suho pulls him back and soothes him with three little words, “It didn’t scar.” Only then does Chanyeol allow himself to fall asleep.

He wakes up a mere five hours later with tears on his face, he started crying in his sleep.

“Chanyeol, are you with me?” Suho is asking.

His arm is killing him. He flings it out and yelps when it collides with the headboard, way to go Chanyeol you .

“Ow,” he whimpers, “Suho it hurts.”

“You just had a nightmare,” Suho tells him. “It’s all better, you’re fine, you’re just sensitive right now.”

“Hyung—”

“No, Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol buries his face in Suho’s shoulder and sobs loudly. “Please,” he begs, “I need it, it hurts so much hyung I’m going to die, please just a little bit…it’s not going to kill me…”

Suho refuses to give in. “I can get you something, but it’s not going to be morphine.”

“Why,” Chanyeol moans. Suho doesn’t answer, he slips out of Chanyeol’s arms with a promise to ‘be right back.’ If Chanyeol could gather his wits together he’d follow Suho and plead with him the entire way to the medical supply closet, but as it is Chanyeol can only roll around in his bed and whine.

True to his word Suho does come back with something, but it’s a sedative laced with a weak pain killer. Even a drop of morphine would be better. Chanyeol would tell Suho as much but his head’s so fuzzy that right now Suho has three heads, and he’s not sure which one he’s supposed to be looking at.

The sedative kicks in right away, but the pain is still there. “I don’t want to sleep,” Chanyeol tells one of the heads. Suho is surrounded by a cloud of white, it might be his wings but it might be the light of heaven. “Am I dying?”

“Oh for god’s sake,” Suho sighs, “You’re not dying, it’s phantom pains. Yixing has been in and out of here five times to try to heal you more and he can’t, you’re all healed. You need to sleep, that’s all.”

Chanyeol shakes his head. “Can’t sleep, it hurts…”

“I know it hurts,” Suho says, more gentle than he was before. “And I know you don’t feel well, but morphine is not the answer to all of your problems, my love.”

“You only love me when I cry,” Chanyeol accuses. It’s getting hard to stay alert, and his jaw is starting to not cooperate with him so his words sound slurred. “You…if you loved me you would…make it stop.” Is he even making sense?

Suho leans down, Chanyeol can’t look at him without going cross eyed so he closes his eyes. Damn, now he can’t open them again, curse this sedative.

Suho kisses his forehead, then his cheek. “I do love you,” he says. “Even when it seems like I don’t. Now go to sleep, you’ll feel better when you wake up.”

Chanyeol’s grandfather owns a very prominent hospital in Seoul, which is how his parents managed to hide the fact that every couple months their son would need treatment for burns somewhere on his body. Chanyeol doesn’t even remember the first time he burned himself, but he knows that it was just one finger. It was still a pretty bad burn and he worked himself into such a fit that a nurse gave him a tiny shot of morphine so he would relax a little. Chanyeol never even asked his parents what it was like to have a child who would set himself on fire at least once a year. He never really knew how he managed to do it, either. Fire wasn’t easy to control, though.

Sometimes the time between burn would be up to ten months, sometimes only a few weeks. They didn’t start getting really bad until he was fourteen, when he burned his torso, and it was around then that his dependence on morphine really got serious. It was around that time that the fire he created got really strong, and even if he managed to put it out in a second, the heat of the fire was so great that it could do a lot of damage. But what really did him in was the burn he got when he was seventeen. He’d been sleeping when it happened, and he woke up to find himself engulfed by flames.

He burned 40% of his body that day, it was so bad that the news found out and the fire was investigated by police. Of course they never found a cause, or a reason to suspect foul play. Chanyeol’s been told that a medical student used his case in a paper on the history of reports of spontaneous human combustion. Well, they were sort of right.

Chanyeol was in the burn unit for two weeks before the Agency heard about him and came to see him. By the time they got there, Chanyeol couldn’t function without morphine. The doctors had tried more than once to remove him from the drip, and each time it wouldn’t take long for him to start shrieking in agony. The pain would get to the point that he would stop breathing, and the doctors had little choice but to give him the IV again. The Agency stepped in, promising his parents that they knew what they were doing, and they would get him off the morphine as painlessly as possible. His parents didn’t ask too many questions, probably because they were just so glad to have someone offering to take care of their problem child for free. The best part was when the Agency promised to teach Chanyeol to control his abilities. They couldn’t have said yes fast enough.

Chanyeol doesn’t remember much from the hospital beyond the haze of pain. Even with the morphine he could feel it, but as long as he didn’t move too much he was okay. He remembers seeing the burns on his hands and vowing never to look at himself again. He remembers looking up at his mother, realizing that the reason she looked fuzzy was because he was in a plastic oxygen tent. He laughed to himself about how stupid that was—combustive boy in an oxygen tank. He briefly entertained lighting himself up again, death would have come quickly. That was probably just before the Agency took him away.

They said they had some miracle pain killer, something that worked just as well as morphine, but without the addictive quality. They lied, what they meant was they were going to get Yixing to heal him. They airlifted Chanyeol to a secret location, he remembers nothing of that though. He remembers being wheeled into his new room, finally free of the oxygen tent, and being greeted by Yixing, Minseok, and Suho. Since Minseok needed to keep a hold of Yixing, sharing his strength so Yixing wouldn’t faint, Suho was the one who held Chanyeol’s hand through the healing process and tried to keep him calm. Suho was the one Chanyeol remembers most from that time. He’s had a soft spot for Suho ever since.

When Chanyeol does finally wake up Suho is gone, but he’s left a note saying that he’s gone shopping with Sehun, Kris, and Tao, and they’re going to get Chanyeol something nice for dinner. Chanyeol hopes they mean beef, he’s sick of fish.

When Lu Han moved in with Yixing and Minseok, Chanyeol moved into his old room since it had a bathroom. He had to fight Baekhyun tooth and nail for it, but he came out on top after using his Secret Weapon. It was a relief to finally have his own bathroom, not have to share with anyone or worry about someone walking in on him. Chanyeol gives himself a moment to just lie in bed, but the longer he stays still the grosser he feels. It has to have been about sixteen hours since he last brushed his teeth and he just knows his hair smells foul, so he forces himself from bed and grabs a change of clothes.

In the bathroom he inspects his arm. It’s no different than it was before, skin white and largely unblemished. But it feels raw, like it was scraped with sandpaper, and it’s stiff when he bends it. Chanyeol undresses slowly, and he accidentally catches sight of himself in the mirror when he throws his shirt aside.

Chanyeol is always shocked by how ugly his skin is. His back and chest are covered in bright pink scars that trace the path of over ten years of burns. He had been lucky that in the last really bad fire, the damage to his face wasn’t as bad as it could have been. The Agency had some kind of super formula which healed the little bit of damage he had around his eyes, though he needed surgery to repair the vision in his right eye. The Agency was also kind enough to use their secret formula on his arms and neck, enough so he could wear t-shirts without people staring at him. But if he wears a tank top, some scars are visible on his shoulders. His legs are mostly okay, just one large swath of scars on his right thigh. His arms and torso have always gotten the worst of it.

Yixing is able to keep the skin from scarring if he gets to the wounds fast enough, but once the scar is there, then there’s little he can do, and the Agency’s serum is so hard to make and so unnatural that they simply have no more to spare to heal the rest of his body, and giving him more might do more harm than good. Chanyeol will live with these scars for the rest of his life. He hasn’t gone shirtless since he was twelve, he never will. The only people who have ever seen the extent of his scars are Suho and Yixing, not even Minseok got a look at them. Chanyeol had been wrapped in gauze when Yixing healed him the first time, it was only later that Chanyeol called Yixing back and asked about the scars.

He remembers Suho being there when the Agency’s doctors injected him with the serum that would heal the scars. They started with his arms, both of them at once, and saved his face for another day. They told Chanyeol it would hurt, but he didn’t care. He’d gotten a look at himself in a mirror and started screaming in horror—minimal damage be damned, he looked like a monster to his own eyes. He vowed not to complain about the pain, but quickly found himself eating his words. He required dozens of injections in one arm, and by the time they were halfway done he was crying. They gave him shots for the pain, not morphine, and it didn’t really help. When they were done with the first arm Chanyeol begged them to stop, come back another day, but they said it was best to get as much done at once as they possibly could. He’d been terrified at the thought of the procedure on his face. For that one they gave him morphine, and it was a little better, but it still hurt a lot. He’s pretty sure he broke one of Suho’s fingers from squeezing his hand so hard, but Suho has never confirmed it.

Once Chanyeol’s done in the shower he redresses as quickly as possible, averting his eyes from the mirror. He hoped feeling clean would change something in his mind, make him flip back to happy, but it hasn’t. When Chanyeol is up, he’s high as the clouds. When Chanyeol is down, he stays down. He’s been to Agency sponsored therapists and psychologists for possible manic-depression-slash-bipolar-disorder, and they’ve all said the same thing—you get like this because you’re burning yourself, it’s only natural to be down for a few days, it’s part of healing. That may be true but it .

Back in his room Chanyeol grabs his phone. There’s a text from Suho, saying that dinner will be ready in twenty minutes, and it was sent eight minutes ago. But it’s only 6, so there’s still time left in the day. He dials one of the few numbers he know by heart.

“Chanyeol?”

“Hyung,” Chanyeol says, feeling and sounding like he’s about to cry. “Can I come over? In an hour, maybe?”

“Of course. Is everything alright?”

“I’ll tell you when I see you.”

After dinner Chanyeol says he’s going for a walk, and he sees Suho’s frown of disapproval but Sehun distracts him before he can say anything. Chanyeol slips out the door quietly and starts walking. It’s not that far to Sungwoo’s apartment.

Chanyeol first saw Sungwoo a year ago, in a nightclub, and thought he was pretty good looking for an older guy. He knew that Sungwoo was looking at him and thought it might be nice to go out with an older man. But the night went by and neither of them made a move. A week later Chanyeol went to one of his favorite cafés and saw Sungwoo sitting at a table with a laptop. He went over and said hello, and found out that Sungwoo was a writer. Though now that they’d had a proper conversation, Chanyeol found himself curious and decided to buy one of Sungwoo’s books. He ended up buying all eight that he’d written and staying up all hours of the night reading them, sometimes reading the same one back to back. He waited until he’d read them all, then he went back to the café and waited for Sungwoo for three days before he came back. Chanyeol immediately started talking to him about the books him, showing him passages in the books that he’d particularly liked or ones he hadn’t understood. He was worried that Sungwoo would find him annoying, but he was so kind and so patient, and he asked Chanyeol if they could exchange numbers. By that point Chanyeol thought he had actual hearts in his eyes every time he looked at or even thought about Sungwoo.

As they got to know each other Chanyeol found himself picking up on certain things that Sungwoo would say, and noticing that his way of thinking was vastly similar to the kind of mindset one had when in Chanyeol’s line of work. Finally one night Chanyeol outright quoted the Agency’s motto to Sungwoo and waited for a response.

“You know,” Sungwoo had said, sounding aggravated, “If I had been someone else, you could have just gotten into a lot of trouble.”

“If I had been someone else, so could you,” Chanyeol had fired back. “You’re part of the Agency, aren’t you?”

Actually, Sungwoo was a former Agency operative, like Chanyeol was now. Sungwoo’s specialty had been torture, the kind that didn’t leave marks but was still super effective. Chanyeol’s always found it weird, since Sungwoo is one of the nicest people he knows, and he’s never hurt Chanyeol before, not even by accident. Sungwoo’s nearly fifty now, he retired from the Agency twenty years ago and while he still gets payment from them, being a writer really helps supplement his income. He lives alone in an apartment that’s a lot smaller than the one Chanyeol currently lives in, but it’s a lot nicer. Being with Sungwoo really isn’t bad, he’s well settled into his life and he’s a nice guy. But Chanyeol knows Suho doesn’t approve. That’s why Chanyeol told Sehun. Other than the fact that he really likes the kid, Sehun has a way of making Suho forget where Chanyeol’s going when he sneaks out, and distracting him when he sneaks back in. Chanyeol’s been lectured enough, he really doesn’t need it anymore.

Suho and Sehun are the only ones who know who Chanyeol is dating, the others know he’s dating but don’t know who or how old. That’s Suho’s problem, he thinks Sungwoo is too old, and Chanyeol should date kids his own age. But who is Chanyeol going to find that’s his own age and understands what he goes through? Like with the morphine addiction. Sungwoo just gets it, and he doesn’t judge.

Chanyeol has a key to Sungwoo’s apartment. Sungwoo gave it to him just three months ago, when they started getting serious. He said Chanyeol was only the second person to get a copy of his key, the first one was his own mother. Sungwoo trusts Chanyeol that much, how many 21-year-olds could say the same thing of their partners?

He lets himself in, and Sungwoo is waiting for him in the living room. He stands and holds out his arms, and Chanyeol runs to him without a second thought.

“What’s wrong?” Sungwoo asks, rubbing Chanyeol’s back. “What can I do to make it better?”

The ache in Chanyeol’s arm is still there, and so is the need for morphine. He’s shaking with it, worse now that he’s not walking. Before when he was moving, it was just his hands. Now his entire body shivers from withdrawal. But Sungwoo would never give Chanyeol drugs, and he doesn’t dare ask. Instead he just asks to be held.

Sungwoo sits on the couch, taking Chanyeol with him. He arranges Chanyeol’s legs across his lap and tucks Chanyeol’s head under his chin. Chanyeol closes his eyes and turns his face into Sungwoo’s shirt, trying to hide the fact that he’s crying. But Sungwoo knows anyway.

“It’s okay,” Sungwoo tells him, petting his hair. “Just let it out. I know you’re in pain and you’re miserable. You can stay here until you feel better, I’ll take care of you.”

Chanyeol whimpers and clutches Sungwoo’s arms. “I hate this. Hyung I hate it so much. I didn’t ask to…to get addicted to morphine. I didn’t ask for fire to shoot out of my hands. I don’t burn myself on purpose. I don’t understand how it happens! I wish I could just be normal…”

“I know,” Sungwoo says. “What happened? Where did you burn yourself?”

“My arm,” Chanyeol sniffles. “The left one…it still hurts.” Talking about it only makes him remember the searing pain as the fire consumed his arm. He squirms closer to Sungwoo seeking comfort. He tries to tell himself that it’s over, his arm is fine, he’s not scarred. His head throbs and he wishes he ate less for dinner, but he mostly just wants another shot of morphine.

Sungwoo maneuvers Chanyeol’s arm around until it’s lying across his lap, underside facing up. Then he slowly drags the tips of his fingers up from Chanyeol’s wrist to the middle of his elbow, and then back down. He does it again, and again, until all Chanyeol can focus on is how nice it feels. It’s such a light touch, it tickles a little, but not enough to be uncomfortable. He starts to relax to the point where he even feels a little sleepy, and by then he realizes that the ache is gone.

“Sungwoo…”

“Hmm?”

“Are you a wizard? I feel so much better now.”

Sungwoo laughs a little and kisses his cheek. “I’m not a wizard, I’m just brilliant.”

“Brilliant,” Chanyeol repeats. “Yeah, I’ll give you that.” He hesitates a moment. “Thanks for doing this for me.” Sungwoo used to torture people for a living, but he’s never been anything but gentle with Chanyeol.

“Any time you need me, I’ll do my best to help in any way I can,” Sungwoo promises. “I know what you go through, I want to make sure you know you have someone you can come to when it gets to be too much.”

Chanyeol tilts his head up and kisses Sungwoo square on the mouth. “You’re so good to me,” he murmurs. “You’re a saint.”

Sungwoo cups his cheek, it with his thumb. “Nothing more than what you deserve.”

Chanyeol grins. “Sungwoo, can I stay here tonight?”

Sungwoo looks a little worried. “You should call home and make sure it’s okay first.”

Chanyeol raises an eyebrow. “Am I twelve, asking my mother for permission?”

Sungwoo smiles and pinches Chanyeol’s ear. “Don’t sass me, you know what I mean. At least let somebody know where you are.”

Chanyeol rolls his eyes, but lets Sehun know that he’s not going to come home tonight. Then he tosses his phone on the couch and wraps his arms around Sungwoo’s neck. “I wish I could do this more often,” he says. “I miss you so much.”

Sungwoo hugs him tightly, buries his face in Chanyeol’s neck and kisses him there. “I miss you too. But you’re here now and I’m so glad you came by.”

Sungwoo disentangles himself slightly, enough to pull Chanyeol’s shirt aside and expose his left shoulder. Chanyeol inhales sharply, but remains relaxed. Sungwoo presses his lips to Chanyeol’s shoulder, right over one of his scars. Chanyeol closes his eyes and presses one hand over his heart. It’s racing, half from nerves and half from excitement.

A few months ago when he and Sungwoo were engaged in one of their heavier makeout sessions, Chanyeol’s shirt had ridden up, exposing his stomach. Sungwoo hadn’t even noticed, but Chanyeol sure had. He’d squirmed away and covered himself up at once, stammering apologies with tears in his eyes. He turned his back so Sungwoo wouldn’t see him cry. But Sungwoo didn’t let Chanyeol go. Instead he hugged Chanyeol from behind, with one arm so Chanyeol could get away if he’d wanted to, and with his free hand he carefully adjusted Chanyeol’s collar to cover his shoulders. Then he’d kissed Chanyeol’s shoulders, up and down, over his shirt, until Chanyeol stopped crying.

“We’ll take this nice and slow, okay?” Sungwoo said, still kissing Chanyeol’s shoulders. “You don’t ever have to undress in front of me, if you don’t want to. If you never want me to see, then I won’t push you. It’s completely up to you.”

“That would kind of make impossible,” Chanyeol mumbled.

“If you’re worried about me, I’ll survive,” Sungwoo said. “It’s your call, Chanyeol. When you’re ready, if you’re ready, then we can talk about it. Don’t push yourself, not for me.”

So far, Chanyeol had only ever exposed his shoulders. He’d been wearing a tank top when he first met Sungwoo, so he wasn’t shy about wearing them around him anymore. The first time Sungwoo asked to kiss his shoulder Chanyeol had been confused until he realized what Sungwoo meant. It wasn’t easy to trust someone this much, but Chanyeol never regretted giving Sungwoo that trust. It had only ever lead to good things.

Pulling himself back to the present, Chanyeol threads his fingers through Sungwoo’s hair, playing with the strands. After a few minutes he tugs Sungwoo’s head up and kisses him again, not even bothering to fix his shirt. They both jump when Chanyeol’s phone suddenly rings.

“Christ,” Chanyeol mutters, snatching his phone from the couch. It’s a text from Sehun, telling him not to worry, he’ll keep Suho distracted.

“Smooth little beast,” Chanyeol laughs. He looks at the time—it’s nearly midnight. He didn’t realize it had gotten so late already.

“We should get some sleep,” Sungwoo says, rubbing Chanyeol’s arms lightly. “I’ll go find you something to wear.”

Chanyeol moves off Sungwoo’s lap after giving him one more kiss, then he slumps against the couch and texts Sehun a thank you.

He and Sungwoo are just going to sleep tonight. Sometimes Chanyeol gets a little lonely at home, with everybody partnered off and no roommates of his own. Sometimes all he wants to do is sneak away and come over here, just to cuddle with Sungwoo for a while. And sometimes Chanyeol wonders what it would be like to undress in front of Sungwoo, let him see all the scars that he hates so much. He knows Sungwoo wouldn’t judge, would never make him feel like he’s anything less than perfect, but he’s still not ready. Still, he knows what kind of man Sungwoo is, and he’s not going to rush himself. Chanyeol doesn’t want someone his own age when he’s already found someone who accepts every part of him.

I'm going to hell in a handbasket

I don't know how many of you watch roommate, I felt a little bad about shipping Mama Shin and Chanyeol but I really wanted Chanyeol to be with someone a lot older and wiser because that's really what he needs. He's so young and goes through so much and the fact that Sungwoo is an ex member of the Agency just makes him even more suited for Chanyeol in this story.

Also yes, there is no Baekyeol. Sorry not sorry.

But Baekhyun will be in the next story, along with Jongdae. FINALLY, JEEZ.