Domestic/Agent!au Chanbaek

 “You left the sprinkler’s on again—this is the 5^th time this ing week, Chanyeol.”

            “—But, I thought the plants would be hungry without us there, and we’re barely there, so I thought, why not?”

            Baekhyun wants to mash his head into the metal bars, and he’s contemplating of letting go of the rope tightly wrapped around his fingers with his significant other dangling on the other end—but he debunks it and growls. “I swear—if our water bill reaches over another hundred dollars this month I’m going to ing sell your PS4 to pay it off—mark my words, Park Chanyeol.”

            But the other man is his lips, trying his best to defuse a bomb neatly planted in a famous museum—the name of it escapes Chanyeol’s capacity to think—because that’s their job, really—with Baekhyun steadily pulling him over by a thread.

            “Baek—we talked about this—“ He says through his mouthpiece as he wipes away his sweat—muttering red or blue? under his breath because he has no idea—Baekhyun’s usually the one telling him which to cut (which he cant at the moment since he’s being a big nag).

            “We did, Chanyeol—it’s the ing blue wire, nitwit—but we didn’t necessarily come to an agreement that we’ll spend more than a hundred dollars on our water bill? Please clarify when I actually agreed to that——“

            The rope slightly slips and Chanyeol tries to balance himself again—completely ignoring the fact that he could have potentially had a bomb blown up in his face, but his philosophy states that if it didn’t happen, then it’s cool.

            “—You agreed that we would do our very best to keep our plants alive and well—“ Chanyeol manages to snip the blue wire without triggering anything else, proceeding with the LED screen because what the hell is this, is this some new kind of bomb or something? “—If they run out of water, it doesn’t actually count as alive and well—“

            “—The passcode’s 4319—and no, god damn it, I didn’t want to spend a hundred dollars on ing plants for god’s sake—“

            “—Okay—it’s done, pull me up—“

            Baekhyun huffs air in his cheeks as he heaves the younger up the vent—the museum was planted with laser detectors that could be the cause of the museum and the Park’s complete obliteration, so they willed against waltzing in like normal bomb squads—or secret agents, in retrospect.

            Chanyeol climbs carefully beside Baekhyun, who in turn gives him a pout. “We’re not leaving the sprinklers on anymore—I don’t want to have to worry about paying a large bill again by the end of the month.”

            Chanyeol sighs—he mutters alright under his breath before crawling after Baekhyun down the vent.

            “We’re not leaving the sprinkler’s on anymore—and that’s final.”

            Chanyeol sighs again—“yes, your majesty”.

            “Another? Another bomb? Skyscraper—oh, yeah, okay, we got it—give us, uh, 10 minut—“

            “—20—“

            “—20 minutes.” Chanyeol rolls his eyes as Baekhyun’s lower half is wrapped with a towel, his upper exposed. He’s choosing an outfit (for the day)—heck, being a secret agent doesn’t exactly mean that he has to look bad. The perks of being a secret agent actually say a lot—money and connections and whatnot.

            “Seriously? 20 minutes? What are you getting ready for anyway?” Chanyeol rolls off the bed and chucks on his usual white button down, and he’s wearing black pants and a black bomber jacket—but Baekhyun settles with grayish pants and a fluffy black sweater—he thinks Baekhyun isn’t exactly cut out for this secret service thing.

            “Just because I’m an agent, doesn’t mean I have to look horrendous.” The elder exclaims, running his fingers through his hair in attempt to straighten it out. “Being fabulous is my forte—what if we die on a mission one day and my corpse looks atrocious?”

            “Tragic.” Chanyeol comments, eyeing his significant other in the mirror with a sigh. “Well, your twenty minutes are almost up.” Chanyeol taps on his watch in urgency.

            “What’s the briefing about?” Baekhyun asks casually, fixing the stray hairs of the sweater without tearing his gaze away from the mirror. “Another bomb?”

            “Yeah—same dips who planted the one at the museum—said some employee discovered it on the top floor by the breaker. Some cops are on their way but it’s the same set up as last night’s, so they need to bring us in just to be safe.” Chanyeol huffs his bangs away from his forehead—he was planning on sleeping in today, guess things don’t go his way (sometimes).

            “Alright—let’s go—oh , wait, ugh—can you take the casserole out of the oven? It’s going to burn if I leave it there.” Baekhyun commands his husband as he straightens out his pants, heading over to the bathroom for final adjustments. “I promise I’ll be down ASAP.”

            Chanyeol groans. “Yes, your highness.”

            “God—are you serious? A puppy? No way.” Baekhyun whispers, but it’s not really a whisper since its kind of audible in a sense of speech, and they’re in this cramped space—so it’s not really that hard to hear.

            “But Baek—our house is big and lonely and sad—“

            “I’ll settle with $30 million—is that your highest offer?”

            “No—no puppies, no animals—he just said that they’re trading in $30 million—animals will only spread fleas and rip up my silk covered pillows—no means no.” Baekhyun is listening, translating in the most bored expression he usually does. They’re in a small compartment—a cabinet, or utility closet if you will—listening into a conversation that they shouldn’t be listening in to.

            “Baek—dogs are the biggest gift from god—HQ says that the $30 million was from government funds—how could you even reject the idea in the first place? Seriously—I married you because you looked like an animal person.”

            Baekhyun puts his hand to his chest in shock. “Excuse me—I’m a person person. So if you knew I didn’t like animals—the guy in the black tuxedo is the head of the international affairs office, offered $45 million in the $30 million’s stead—you wouldn’t have married me?” Baekhyun is listening to English and spouting Korean, because Chanyeol had the task of relaying the information to the singular earpiece they had received.

            “Yes, of course—yeah, that was $45 million, from the international affairs office—dogs are the foundation principle of life, I don’t see the big deal of you being completely against it, why don’t you just live a little?” Chanyeol is kind of pissed that they were just given one ear piece—the mission would have been easier if they were both given a set each, since translating and relaying information alternatively is a big of a hassle.

            “Because dogs ruin a lot of stuff—someone just offered $60 million, god, ugh, I forgot who he is—I had a dog once back in my old home when I was 6 and it destroyed all of my mother’s stuff, it was chaos—do you remember who that guy is?”

            Chanyeol is squinting through the small hole Baekhyun was peeping and listening through, and he’s racking his brain for the memory of the list of suspected gamblers. “It’s the chief of staff—I think.” Chanyeol doesn’t really recall—and they’re all draped in clothes far more expensive than they do when they’re out and about with the masses, so the pictures they receive never really justify.

            “$60 million, you can buy a gazillion dogs with that—why some ty stolen painting?” Chanyeol scoffs—paintings are for sissies.

            “Well—they stole the painting from a museum and are indeed selling it at their own accord—and no, a gazillion dogs sound like a gazillion years in hell—when the painter, I forgot who, proposed that it stay in the museum for eternity, or some .”

            Chanyeol nods, leaning his back against the wall. “I’m tired—this is the most boring mission ever. Why don’t we just bust in and take the painting, arrest these turds and bolt?” Chanyeol proposes, he could have spent this time watching re-runs of Sherlock on BBC, but he’s here, doing his job.

            “I’m tired too—I’m going to miss pretty little liars—but we can’t since they want a full record of the conversation so that they can’t escape afterwards—we’re talking about possible impeachment.”

            Chanyeol shrugs, uninterested. “I could be watching Sherlock and playing with a new puppy—“

            “—you mean watching Sherlock, end of story—$100 million! The offers $100 million for a ing painting.” Baekhyun is lifting his hands in the air, obviously judging these old men’s choices. “My god—if I had $100 million—“

            “—you’d buy me a puppy?”

            Baekhyun is glaring at his husband. “Chanyeol—“

            “—Sold! Pleasure doing business with you, sirs—“

            “Well, that’s our cue.”

            Headlines: 4 senators, 17 positioned officers and the chief of staff arrested for the theft of the Mona Lisa.

            “Hijacking? Seriously, please—don’t call us for cases like these.” Baekhyun is standing by their home phone, the usual phone wherein he can get in contact with his mother in the provinces and or receive phone calls on missions from the HQ. “We have lives aside from being your pawns—let the cops handle it.”

            Baekhyun nods before putting the phone down.

            “Yo—why’d the hotline bling?”

            Baekhuyn lifts an eyebrow. “What?”

            “You know, I know when that hotline bling, that could only mean one thing—probably another mission.” Chanyeol is taking a bite out of the apple on the table, and Baekhyun is baking an apple pie because he really likes apple pie—and he’s been wanting to do something normal in a long time.

            “Yeah, hijacking—the usual.” Baekhyun remarks as he places the pie into the oven, setting the time carefully. “You’d think they’d learn that we don’t take hijackings by now—unless it’s a plane hijacking, that’s a different sto—“

            The ring of the phone interrupts Baekhyun’s sentence, and Chanyeol is making him answer it with a not my problem expression, and he’s so close to punching the living daylights out of his idiot husband.

            “Yes? A plane?” Baekhyun gives Chanyeol an exasperated look, and the younger is trying to form a big “X” with his arms, signaling that no please please please.

            Baekhyun sighs. “Alright, alright—we’ll get there as soon as we can.”

            Chanyeol groans when Baekhyun puts the phone down.

            “So—about that puppy—“

            “Park ing Chanyeol—“

            Chanyeol is holding unto a leash, with a small Chihuahua tugging at the end. Baekhyun had to admit, if Chihuahua’s were this tiny, he’d be grateful because they’d probably be gone with the wind in one swift motion.

            “I’m training him to be a K9—his name is Hyeol.” The husband is proud of himself when he shouts sit! and the miniature dog follows with the same stupid expression as the owner. Baekhyun has to face palm.

            “You seriously brought a Chihuahua to a mission—your knowledge of the world is beyond me.” Baekhyun says, fixing his bulletproof jacket on. “Ill be the one to head into the scene, you stay here and, I don’t know, teach that little how to in the right place or else it’s sleeping outside.” Baekhyun says, pointing a commanding finger at the shivering specimen, and Chanyeol nods all the same.

            He watches his husband disappear into the convenience store—a gunned man holding a bunch of people captive again—Chanyeol wonders why on earth Baekhyun accepted this mission.

            “Okay, Hyeol, time to learn how to beg Baekhyun for in-and-out take out instead of his nasty cooking.”

            “Park Chanyeol, if you don’t shut the dog up, he’s going to the shelter first thing in the morning, so help me god.”

            It’s not that Baekhyun was usually a grouchy little —as Chanyeol would quote—but he kind of feels for his husband as the boy groggily lifts his head up, sending a glare to his bigger spoon at 2 in the morning. Headquarters sent Baekhyun for a mission at 9, and he got home at around 1 and ended up snuggling up to the bigger man.

            “Alright, alright.” Chanyeol sighs—he’s kind of thankful that Baekhyun was the more capable secret agent than the both of them—having an IQ of 187, mastering a bunch of languages (Chanyeol forgets the number) and he can’t really cook but he makes the best chicken pot pie ever.

            “Come on Hyeol—mommy’s going to make you go away if you don’t take a sleepy-poo, okay?” Chanyeol coos in a hushed voice as he takes the small, shivering Chihuahua in his hands, and the dog is so tiny that it a lot smaller than Chanyeol’s.

            The dog instantly calms down, and Chanyeol smiles—he kind of resembles Baekhyun, but he’ll never say that to his face.

            However, when Chanyeol attempts to put the dog back down into his own comfy (and ing expensive, Baekhyun says) bed, the dog starts barking without mercy and Chanyeol swears he can hear Baekhyun curse from the second floor.

            “Okay, okay, up you go—“ Chanyeol hums as he takes the dog back into his arms, waddling back upstairs wondering if Baekhyun had the qualms of kicking his own husband out.

            He doesn’t even need to ask when Baekhyun is glaring at him from the bed, about to open his mouth when Chanyeol swings on his heels—trying to miss by an earshot a nagging mouthful.

            Chanyeol takes refuge on the sofa, the tangy orange sofa that Baekhyun and his mom wanted to buy—and the biggest eyesore he sees every time he gets home from work.

            “This is okay.” Chanyeol hums as the dog nuzzles up to his chest, and he really imagines that the puppy is kind of like Baekhyun, since Baekhyun, when it was the earlier times of their marriage, used to snuggle up to Chanyeol like the shivering Chihuahua.

            “Go to sleep now, Hyeol—goodnight.” Chanyeol plants a small kiss before the small dog contentedly drifts off to sleep.

            Chanyeol doesn’t realize he had purchased two dogs.

            He’s smiling—of course—because Baekhyun had found his way on top of him, nuzzled up in the space between him and Hyeol, and Baekhyun is the one hugging Hyeol—his eyebrow scrunched together every time the dog decided to wag his tail or change his position.

            He hugs Baekhyun by the waist, bringing him a bit closer as he finally manages to wrap his arms around the smaller boy. “Good Morning—“

            Baekhyun’s eyes slightly lift, and he tilts his head back, trying to absorb the situation. “I see my little princess was lonely up there.”

            Baekhyun pouts. “What? I didn’t want you spending more time with a ing dog than with your capable, y, hot husband.” Baekhyun huffs as he tries to lift himself out stubbornly, but Chanyeol brings him back down with hours at the headquarters’ gym strength, and Baekhyun kind of regrets not going with him at times.

            “Okay, okay—Hyeol just has a hard time sleeping alone, like a certain other puppy that I know—“

            “—Shut up.” Baekhyun dares, and Chanyeol’s brushing his lips against the elder’s head. “I’m just kidding—you two are so alike that I’m falling in love with you a hundred times more.”

            Baekhyun is pouting, and Chanyeol is about to kiss that cute little pouty face when the phone rings.

            “.” Chanyeol cranes his head backwards, pissed. “Seriously? It’s 7 in the morning—“

            He watches as Hyeol jumps out of Baekhyun’s arms, padding his way to the phone. He barks it a few times and looks at the couple on the couch, either growling and barking in between breaths.

            “I see the little one wants us to work—must have been a bit mad that he found himself in the arms of the man who wants him out of the house.” Chanyeol laughs a bit, receiving an elbow into his rib cage.

            “Whatever—“ Baekhyun finally wriggles out of Chanyeol grasp, walking to stand beside the annoying dog. He glares down at it for a few seconds, and Chanyeol wants to laugh because this is the most adorable staring contest he’s ever seen.

            “—I still don’t like you.” Baekhyun growls, and the dog barks back—Baekhyun decides he hates dogs a hundred times more.

            “Hello?” Baekhyun sighs through the phone, and Chanyeol is ready to spring to his toes, dangerously heading into another mission.

            But this time, probably with another little puppy.