“!” baekhyun swears out loud.

he's just gone and ing dropped his egg mcmuffin. his precious egg mcmuffin. if he were at home and not at his local mcdonald's, he would pick it right back up and carried on as if nothing happened. and if it had been any other day, he might have been tempted to do just that. but as luck would have it, it's been raining and the floor is covered in shallow puddles and muddy footprints. so instead, he just continues to have a staring contest with the greasy breakfast muffin.

he doesn't even know how it wound up on the floor. one second, it had been safely clutched in his hand and the next, it was attached to the ground. where was the dramatic montage flashing before his eyes, carl orff’s ‘o fortuna’ playing in the background as it fell to the floor in slow motion? baekhyun is quite convinced it had teleported itself.

he squats down, picking up the soiled muffin to inspect the damage. it’s definitely a lost cause. sighing deeply, he reaches for his wallet. he hadn’t intended on spending this much money on junk food but his trips to the fast food chain after a night out and getting hammered were a tradition. besides, it’s the only thing that ensures he doesn’t wake up the next morning in the evening with a head splitting hangover.

that’s odd, his wallet isn’t where it usually is—his back pocket. he pats down his other pockets which all turn up empty. well, isn’t that just ing splendid? and for some unknown reason—a mystery that will stump him for years to come, no doubt—baekhyun can feel his eyes welling up with tears.

he didn’t cry when bambi’s mother was ruthlessly shot by the faceless hunter or when jack froze to death in the north atlantic ocean after the titanic had sunk—they both could’ve lived, goddammit! he didn’t even cry when his high school boyfriend dumped him the day before prom. okay, he may have made some pretty feeble sounds as he whined about it to his best friend, jongdae. but technically, it didn’t count because no actual tears fell from his eyes. so to be on the verge on a full on meltdown just because he’s just dropped his egg mcmuffin is beyond his comprehension.

it could be down to the fact that it’s six thirty in the morning and baekhyun’s been awake for close to twenty four hours. he’s far too tired for this. it’ll be the last time he ever goes drinking with jongdae—or rather—jongdae’s new boyfriend, junmyeon. baekhyun thought he was pretty good at handling his liquor but he’s no match for junmyeon. the man, even after countless shots, was still sober as a judge which was more than could be said for jongdae. junmyeon had to literally carry him out of the bar after he’d drunkenly mistaken the female’s bathroom for the men’s room and urinated into one of the sinks. they’ll never be able to show their faces there ever again, that’s for sure. not that baekhyun’s too bummed about it, the bar was far too crowded and the drinks extremely overpriced. he really should stop blowing all his hard earned cash on fancy cocktails named after positions, it really isn’t good for his liver—or bank account.

baekhyun suddenly remembers what happened to his wallet. after junmyeon had hailed a cab, baekhyun insisted he’d pay for the fare. junmyeon—a gentleman worthy of jongdae—had refused his offer, and so baekhyun had pocketed the loose change, thrown the wallet through the open window, and fled before junmyeon could return it to him. baekhyun has always been a generous drunk, a trait jongdae usually takes full advantage of. when he’s not trying to flash a group of unexpected women in the ladies room, that is.

baekhyun, now walletless, had just spent the only cash he had on him. with his free hand, —he reaches into his pocket and pulls out three pitiful coins, not nearly enough to purchase another egg mcmuffin. whimpering softly, he stuffs the loose change back into his pocket. he blames jongdae, it’s all his fault. just then laughter rings in his ears and baekhyun swears it belongs to jongdae. he would recognise that distinctive cackle anywhere. baekhyun scans the restaurant only to find his best friend nowhere in sight. it’s not all that surprising jongdae’s drunken ritual usually involves stumbling home and passing out on the toilet with a toothbrush still in his mouth.

grumbling to himself, baekhyun takes another look at the grubby bun. it’s staring back at him, its greasy surface taunting him, soaking through the parchment paper and onto his hand. this, everything. baekhyun is about to toss the egg mcmuffin into the rubbish bin when something catches his eye. or to be more specific, someone.

a man in a t-shirt—with his sleeves rolled up, no less—despite the weather. seriously? baekhyun watches as the man rises from his seat, his eyes following the stranger as he heads his way. he’s tall, baekhyun observes, almost an entire head taller than him with large eyes and a wide smile to match, his youthful features contrasting with his grand stature.

he’s pretty cute, baekhyun muses, fantastic forearms. he’s always had a weakness for a man with nice arms. as if on cue, the stranger flexes his biceps as he walks pass baekhyun—no rhyme or reason behind the action. why does baekhyun always encounter the strangest people in mcdonald’s? he recalls the time he witnessed a man crying that his boyfriend had just turned into a snowcone and demanded twelve cups of ice to prevent him from melting away.

he turns away from the stranger—mr. arm flex—and it dawns on baekhyun that the man has left his tray of food unattended. baekhyun finds himself wrapping the dirty egg mcmuffin back up and making his way over to mr. arm flex’s table. he hovers above the tray of food, discovering that mr. arm flex has also ordered an egg mcmuffin. a fresh and clean mcmuffin, untainted by the clumsy fingers that belong to one drunken byun baekhyun.

a thought enters his brain. trade them. no, he couldn't possibly do that. it’s basically stealing, right? baekhyun inhales deeply, the glorious aroma of fried eggs filling his nostrils. is he really going to do this? a chair scrapes across the floor, startling him and prompting him to take action. there’s no time for hesitation, it’s now or never, do or die. biting his bottom lip, he steels his resolve and makes the switch, judgement be damned.

baekhyun flees the scene of the crime, but doesn't stray too far away, taking refuge at a nearby table. carefully unwrapping the muffin, he takes a bite. it tastes so good, even better than he’d remembered. it’s too late to turn back now, he needs to follow this through to the end. baekhyun takes another bite, only it isn't as satisfying as the first. something’s different. off. baekhyun sets the bun back onto the grease stained paper and it hits him. there’s no cheese in this egg mcmuffin! which also means mr. arm flex would definitely realise his food’s been swapped once he takes a bite. baekhyun will get caught, go to prison—a place with no egg mcmuffins. how on earth will he survive? damn his reckless actions; and for what? his pilfered egg mcmuffin wasn’t even aproper one. no cheese on an egg mcmuffin is a complete travesty. baekhyun did right to steal the man’s food, mr. arm flex didn’t deserve it. maybe it’d even teach him a lesson.

okay, now is not the time to be questioning a mr. arm flex’s—clearly poor—life choices. baekhyun needs to destroy the evidence and he needs to do it fast. no body, no crime. almost choking to death halfway through, baekhyun somehow manages to scarf down the entire thing just in time, mr. arm flex returning to his table as baekhyun swallows the last bite.

breathing a sigh of relief, baekhyun wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. deeming it time to head back home for some much needed rest, baekhyun stands up. only he doesn’t. his muscles won’t budge regardless of how hard he tries; there’s an unknown force preventing him from leaving. remorse? intrigue? masochism? he makes several more attempts, eliciting strange groans as he struggles to rise to his feet but alas, his efforts are all in vain. so instead of making a speedy exit, evading capture, baekhyun sees no other alternative than to remain seated until his body decides to obey him.

baekhyun sneaks a glance at mr. arm flex, just to see if the man had eaten the egg mcmuffin yet. he hadn’t. baekhyun looks on as the man rolls up one of his sleeves that had begun to unravel, his biceps tensed the entire time. catching himself staring for a tad too long, baekhyun averts his line of sight.

two seconds pass and baekhyun peeks at him again. still nothing. baekhyun continues to spy on the man, trying to remain as discreet as possible. there’s nothing better to do, baekhyun tells himself. his denial game has always been strong. just like the time he accidentally farted in the lift and blamed it on the person standing beside him. despite there being just the two of them inside that elevator, he was vehemently adamant that he wasn’t the culprit. he’d like to think he managed to convince the other of his innocence.

mr. arm flex, too preoccupied with his kindle, is completely oblivious to the fact that he has an audience. eyes glued to the device’s screen, he unwraps baekhyun’s contaminated egg mcmuffin and raises it to his mouth. baekhyun clenches his fists and holds his breath. he can’t seem to look away; it’s like watching a train wreck unfolding before his eyes. baekhyun keeps waiting for mr. arm flex to take a bite, the man’s pearly whites to sink into the bun, but something unexpected happens. mr. arm flex sets down the muffin and opts for the crispy golden hash brown instead, slowly chomping on the crunchy potato patty.

baekhyun exhales, the air rushing out of his lungs, his breathing rapid and shallow as he catches his breath. goodness gracious, why is he such a nervous wreck? both his actions and emotions are baffling him today. baekhyun blames it on the al-al-al-alcohol.

mr. arm flex repeatedly lowers and lifts his right arm as he chews, the motion simulating a bicep curl exercise, but instead of a dumbbell, the man is lifting… a hash brown. devouring the deep fried snack in just three bites, the egg mcmuffin winds up back in the clutches of mr. arm flex’s enormous hands in no time. baekhyun can’t help but make the observation that the egg mcmuffin looks like a mini slider in comparison to the size of the man’s hand. his body—the southern half—stirs awake as his mind begins to wander into dangerous territory. is mr. arm flex long in every department? how’s his stamina? would he be opposed to light and/or role play—

the sounds of heavy footsteps, an employee chasing a homeless man out of the restaurant, draws baekhyun’s attention back to mr. arm flex and what can only be described as a peculiar instance of indecisive behaviour. appearing to change his mind yet again, the man places the egg mcmuffin back onto his tray and curls his fingers around his beverage—some kind of coffee. raising the cup to his lips, he takes several slow sips before gulping the rest of the drink in one shot, and releasing a satisfied “ahh”. not two seconds later, mr. arm flex begins to shift uncomfortably in his chair. the man’s fingers slowly reach for the egg mcmuffin before they suddenly veer off course and into the air. stretching—and flexing—he suddenly looks in baekhyun’s direction, causing baekhyun to jerk his head away to avoid detection. baekhyun feels a sharp pain in his neck, he’s probably given himself whiplash. ing marvelous. baekhyun tilts his head from side to side to help get rid of the kink in his neck when his eyes land on mr. arm flex, their eyes meeting. turning away immediately, baekhyun feels a hot blush creeping up his cheeks.

did baekhyun detect a hint of a smirk just then? shrugging it off as just his imagination, baekhyun retrieves his phone from his pocket. he needs to act inconspicuous, and to do so he requires a prop. pretending to text a friend, baekhyun’s delicate fingers dance across the screen, selling his masquerade. proud of his oscar-worthy performance, baekhyun takes a bow, imagining the cheers and roaring applause washing over him as he receives a standing ovation. “thank you to all my fans, i couldn’t have done it without you!” he mumbles quietly, raising his phone in place of a trophy.

“mum, why is that man talking to himself?”

“sssh, stop looking and keep walking!”

baekhyun hears the woman hushing her child, and he immediately hangs his head in shame. what the hell is he doing? he’s supposed to keep himself hidden, a faceless individual amongst the crowd, not attracting unwanted attention. fortunately for baekhyun, mr. arm flex is far too engrossed with his reading material to have witnessed the embarrassing incident.

after several minutes pass, phone safely back in the confines of his pocket, baekhyun resumes his surveillance. from the corner of his eyes, he catches sight of his egg mcmuffin inching closer and closer to mr. arm flex’s lips. unable to sit idly by, baekhyun jumps up from his seat. he charges ahead at full throttle and hurtles towards mr. arm flex. “nooooooooo, don’t do it,” he screams, slapping the egg mcmuffin out of the unsuspecting man’s hand.

bewildered, mr. arm flex’s eyes widen. “w-what’s happening?” his gaze falls to the bun on the floor. “my egg mcmuffin! what did you do that for?!”

mr. arm flex sounds irked but despite the furrowed brows and flared nostrils, baekhyun doesn’t find the man intimidating in the slightest. unable to hold it in, baekhyun cracks up in a fit of uncontrollable laughter.

“you think this is funny?!” the man asks in disbelief. “what the hell is your problem?”

baekhyun clutches his stomach and takes several deep breaths. collecting his composure, he apologises, “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to laugh. it’s just that you…” look like a monkey when you’re angry. no, wait. better not take another swing at the hornet’s nest. “see, the thing is, erm, how do i explain this?”

“try,” mr. arm flex says curtly, his deep voice booming and sending shivers down baekhyun’s spine.

baekhyun dry swallows. okay, mr. arm flex has successfully managed to instill some fear into him. “i dropped my egg mcmuffin. so then, i may have accidentally, er, switched our egg mcmuffins. it was an honest mistake, i swear,” he explains, knowing all too well how ridiculous it sounds. he just wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole, just as he had done with mr. arm flex’s egg mcmuffin. nothing is worth this much hassle, not even two egg mcmuffins.

“accidentally? accidentally?! an honest mistake?” mr. arm flex scoffs incredulously. “look, i don’t know what game you’re trying to pull here, but it isn’t funny.”

“i’m not playing any games. eurgh, i shouldn’t have moved that fast. now my head hurts.” he closes his eyes and massages his temples with his index and middle fingers.

mr. arm flex leans in, his face several inches away from baekhyun’s. despite the squinting and twitching, baekhyun can see there’s a kindness in the man’s eyes. his gaze drops to baekhyun’s lips, an expression follows that baekhyun can’t quite decipher. instinctively, baekhyun covers his mouth with his right hand.

“it all makes sense now. you’re drunk,” mr. arm flex says, pulling away from baekhyun.

it doesn’t sound like a question, more like a statement. he could probably smell the alcohol lingering on baekhyun’s breath. what is he, a bloodhound? “was,” baekhyun points out. he sees mr. arm flex raise an eyebrow. “fine. still am, just a little.”

“i get it, i do. i’ve done some silly things when i’ve been drunk, though turning to a life of crime isn’t one of them.” mr. arm flex tsks playfully.

“exaggerate much?”

mr. arm flex chuckles, causing baekhyun to wince in pain, his pounding headache exacerbated by the deep timbre of the man’s laugh. baekhyun swears he can literally feel his brain throbbing inside of his skull.

“so, how’s this? get me a new egg mcmuffin and we’ll go our separate ways. no harm, no foul,” the man suggests, his tone much quieter and softer than before.

mr. arm flex’s concern for a complete stranger, even one who had stolen his egg mcmuffin, makes it harder for baekhyun to disclose his current financial status. he chuckles nervously and rubs the back of his neck. “yeah, about that. i don’t…”

“you don’t?”

“...have any money on me.”

. mr. arm flex does not appear pleased to learn of the revelation. baekhyun feels compelled to set the record straight, to explain what had happened. “you see, my friend got super wasted, like absolutely bombed. if you think i’m drunk, you should’ve seen the state he was in. we basically got kicked out of this hipster bar, you know, the one that serves drinks in old jam jars? anyway, so he tried to pee in the women’s toilet only apparently all the stalls were occupied and he was about to piss himself so he decided the sink was better than pissing himself—”

mr. arm flex clears his throat loudly, an action baekhyun interprets as an indication to move his story along. “right. so long story short, my wallet is at my friend’s house,” baekhyun continues, “if you just wait here, i’ll go get it and come back and then i’ll—”

mr. arm flex holds a palm out, cutting baekhyun off. “just stop right there. do i look like an idiot to you?”

“yes,” baekhyun blurts out without thinking. , did he just say that out loud? “i mean, no?”

the man frowns, clearly unamused by baekhyun’s candid words.

“well, i thought it was pretty obvious i didn’t have any money on me. if i did, i wouldn’t have stolen your egg mcmuffin. i would’ve just bought myself a new one, you know?” about to continue his ramblings, baekhyun decides to stop there, not wanting to add any additional salt to the wound.

mr. arm flex looks like he’s just been kicked in the gut several times. “it isn’t that obvious, okay? you could’ve been too cheap or lazy or i don’t know, a mischievous drunk or something,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders.

baekhyun can tell that his comment had cut deeper than he’d intended. he needs to say something to lighten the mood.“ah, right. no, i’m a drunk.” he shoots mr. arm flex a wink and smirks when the man chokes on his saliva. “so, yeeeeeah. i won’t be able to get you a new egg mcmuffin, but ooh! give me your phone,” baekhyun instructs, holding out an open palm.

“what? first you steal my food, now you want me to steal my phone? and you expect me to just hand it over to you?”

“i’m not going to steal your—” baekhyun spots mr. arm flex’s phone sitting on the table. he reaches over and grabs the device, swatting mr. arm flex’s attempts to snatch it out of his grasp. he enters his digits and hands the phone back to its owner. “there, i gave you my number. trust me, that’s worth more than some ty egg mcmuffin. who orders an egg mcmuffin without any cheese, anyway? what’s wrong with you?”

mr. arm flex splutters unattractively. “w-what’s wrong with me?! i should be asking you that! if it was so ty, why did you eat it?”

“well, i didn’t know it didn’t have any cheese until i took a bite! and by then, it was too late.” baekhyun smacks his lips with a look of distaste, recalling what disappointment the egg mcmuffin had been.

mr. arm flex pockets his phone before slumping back into his chair. “serves you right, then.” picking up his kindle, he turns the device on and resumes reading the book he was absorbed in before baekhyun had disturbed him. his eyes begin to blink rapidly as he scans the lines of text.

“are you about to cry? aww, poor baby,” baekhyun coos, biting back a smile. he doesn’t mean to tease the man but baekhyun can’t seem to help himself.

mr. arm flex doesn’t respond. oh, wow. the silent treatment. real mature. “alright, no need to sulk. i’m sorry for stealing your food. and if it makes you feel any better, i feel like . everything hurts,” baekhyun says with a prolonged groan.

mr. arm flex gazes up at him, but doesn’t breathe a word, nor does he look away. a minute passes as they continue to stare at each other, the awkward silence mounting.

“i hope you feel better soon,” the man finally speaks before returning his eyes to the device in his hand.

taking that as a cue to leave, baekhyun bids the man a farewell. “thanks, have a pleasant day.” he turns on his heel, freezing when he realises that he doesn’t have his bus pass—it’s inside of his wallet. the realisation leaves a sinking feeling in his stomach, or it could’ve been the egg mcmuffin. he really doesn’t want to make the commute home by foot, all he wants to do right now is climb into his bed and sleep for an entire week. knowing it was a long shot, baekhyun clears his throat and looks directly into mr. arm flex’s eyes. “actually, erm, i don't suppose you could lend me money for the bus fare? it’s like a forty minute walk home and even longer to get to my friend’s house. i’ll pay you back, i swear, just text me your bank details.”

“you’ve got to be kidding me.” the man rolls his eyes and sets his kindle down.

okay, so baekhyun kinda saw that coming. it’s time for him to turn on the charm. baekhyun takes a deep breath and musters the widest smile his face would allow. “i'll give you my email address?”

“why would i need your email address when i’ve got your number?”

“looks like i was wrong, perhaps you’re not the idiot i pegged you as.” baekhyun playfully slaps the man’s arm, letting his hand linger for a few seconds. “just kidding. it’s fine, i’ll just walk. but again, sorry about stealing your food and almost letting you eat a floor muffin.” he shoots mr. arm flex a smile before turning away to leave.

baekhyun’s not sure if he’ll ever see or hear from the man again, but he’ll be sure to live on in baekhyun’s memory—as the man who destroyed the holiness that is an egg mcmuffin. just the mere thought of no cheese has baekhyun all riled up again; a part of him now regretting slapping the muffin out of mr. arm flex’s hand. dirty or not, it’d still be better than a no cheese egg mcmuffin. baekhyun decides that perhaps it’s best if they never cross paths again— they’re far too different to be compatible. still, he’d miss the nice forearms.

before taking a step forward, baekhyun sneaks one final peek at the man and his arms. he gasps when he sees said a flexed arm reaching out for him and a giant hand landing on his shoulder.

“wait a second. here,” the man says, handing baekhyun a bill, more than enough for a bus fare.

“you’re a real lifesaver, thanks— wait, i don’t even know your name. after everything, i feel like i should know it. i’ve been calling you ‘mr. arm flex’ in my head all this time.” baekhyun his head, waiting for the man to formally introduce himself.

mr. arm flex looks rather proud to learn of the nickname baekhyun had given him, the muscles in both his arms twitching in approval. “chanyeol. park chanyeol.”

“hmm. chanyeol. chaaaan-yeol. chanyeeeeol,” baekhyun repeats the name several times, placing emphasis on a different vowel each time. “i think i might stick to ‘mr. arm flex’ after all.”






“will you be paying by cash or card?”

baekhyun points at chanyeol. “he’s paying.”

“e-excuse me?”

“i’m going to find somewhere for us to sit,” baekhyun announces, ignoring the other’s spluttering. he grins when chanyeol sighs and reaches into his pocket to retrieve his wallet. baekhyun gives the man's arm a quick squeeze before leaving him to pay for their food.

spotting an empty table in the corner of the restaurant, baekhyun scurries over and opts for the plush booth side. he's sure chanyeol would've offered him the comfier seat anyway. tapping his fingers on the table, baekhyun waits for his boyfriend to join him.

boyfriend.

baekhyun never would've imagined that he would end up dating mr. arm flex, but things have a funny way of turning out. mama park having raised nothing short of a perfect gentleman, chanyeol had text baekhyun to check in on him, to which baekhyun replied with a sincere thank you. not expecting another response from the man, he was pleasantly surprised when his phone had vibrated with another message. and thus began an exchange of texts that continued into the early hours of the morning, a close connection between the two established in no time.

baekhyun found himself almost bursting with anticipation as he awaited a response, his heart pounding against his chest when chanyeol's name finally appeared on his phone. not one to secretly pine over someone, baekhyun had been the one to take initiative and plucked up the courage to ask chanyeol out on a date. baekhyun had never smiled so hard after reading the words, “damn, you beat me to it.”

a month later and things are progressing well. baekhyun isn't the type to kiss and tell but he has let slip to jongdae that chanyeol’s anatomy is completely in proportion, no disappointments there. chanyeol isn't without his faults though; baekhyun was horrified to learn that chanyeol is a morning person.

“i can’t believe you made me wake up at this god awful hour,” baekhyun whines when his boyfriend takes a seat opposite him, setting down the tray of food on the table.

“it’s really not that early, baekhyun. it’s ten am, most people are awake by this time. besides, you're really in no position to be complaining when you were the one who was supposed to pay for all of this. your treat, remember?” chanyeol shakes his head and begins dividing the food and drink, moving baekhyun's share to his side of the table.

picking up his bottle of orange juice, baekhyun unscrews the cap and takes a sip. “you know the rules. if you expect me to meet you before noon, you need to provide the food.”

“geez, baek. think of all the things you could achieve if you woke up earlier. you're missing out on so many good things, like mcd's breakfast.”

“you’ve got a point, i guess. mcd’s breakfast is worth getting out of bed for.” baekhyun takes another swig of his drink before offering the rest to chanyeol.

accepting the orange juice, chanyeol finishes the remaining half of the bottle in one shot. “yeah, and it only took us two months to arrange this breakfast date.”

“can you believe it’s been two months already?” baekhyun asks, smiling at the fond—albeit hazy—memory of how they’d first met.

“that reminds me, i actually had an interesting conversation with jongdae and junmyeon the other day. they told me all about the story you’d told them,” chanyeol informs baekhyun with an expression on his face that baekhyun has never seen before.

he's not sure if he should be afraid or not. judging from the last few times the four of them have spent time together, his friends are not to be trusted, especially that jongdae. baekhyun tries to recall what he’d told them. he may or may not have spent a good forty five minutes describing how hot chanyeol was. baekhyun would never hear the end of it if chanyeol were to find out that out. baekhyun would have to go on a murderous rampage if one of them breathed a word about it to his boyfriend. he has an inkling that jongdae has already spilled the beans, disclosing anything that would embarrass him. most likely claiming that it was his duty as baekhyun's best friend, or some other nonsense like that. jongdae, the master bullter.

if jongdae really had divulged information meant to be kept strictly confidential, baekhyun would have no choice but to retaliate with the story of when they went to camp their last year of high school. the incident in question had involved a can of shaving cream, a pack of condoms, two rolls of toilet paper, a tootsie roll, and a visit to the emergency room. sworn to secrecy all these years, baekhyun has never been tempted to break his pinky promise. yet.

“what lies has jongdae been spreading now?” baekhyun asks as he retrieves his phone from his pocket, his fingers poised and ready to send an exclusive tell-all text to junmyeon.

“well, let’s just say your recollection of what went down differs from how i remember it,” chanyeol tells him.

“say what now?” baekhyun's ears perk up and he sits up straight. “what do you mean by ‘differs’?”

“you told the guys that the first time we spoke was after you slapped the floor muffin out of my hand. but we actually exchanged words before then. when i was waiting in line, you screamed bloody murder, so i asked if you were okay and you rambled on about bambi, jack from titanic, and some guy named kyungsoo?”

“nooooooooo,” baekhyun gasps in surprise, his mouth hanging wide open. did he really say all that stuff out loud?

chanyeol laughs at baekhyun’s reaction and takes one of his hands into his own, lacing their fingers together. “then after i got my food, when i went to get a napkin, you barged passed me and sat in my seat. i was literally standing less than two feet away from you when you made the switch. and you didn’t even get out of my chair before you started wolfing down my egg mcmuffin.”

“oh, my god.” baekhyun feels mortified after discovering the truth. wanting to cover his face with his hands, baekhyun tries to pull his hand free but chanyeol’s grip is too tight.

“and when i returned,” chanyeol continues, “you slid into the adjacent seat and basically gawked at me the entire time.”

“you caught me spying on you? but how? you were too busy with your kindle!”

“i was just trying my best to avoid making eye contact with you, to be honest. strange drunk man and all that, but you were making it hard when you kept jabbing me with your elbow and cackling. when i picked up the floor muffin to set it aside, you shouted in my ear, ‘oh no, he’s going to eat it! he’s actually going to eat it!’, practically made me deaf in one ear.”

“oops? sorry about that,” baekhyun apologises, reaching out to gently his boyfriend’s protruding ears.

“just before you left, you mumbled something that i couldn't quite make out but you seemed pretty happy when i gave you some napkins. i think you tried to wink at me, but you were just blinking real fast. oh, you also fell over some chairs. you don’t remember any of this? man, how drunk were you?”

“i wasn’t that drunk, i swear! i remember taking out my phone and pretending to text jongdae so it looked like i was doing something other than spying on you. ”

“actually, you took off your shoe.”

baekhyun slams his head on the table. “no, no, no,” he repeats over and over. this has gotten beyond embarrassing. he feels chanyeol’s long fingers running through his hair. baekhyun looks up at his boyfriend with puppy dog eyes, his lips pouting. “why on earth would you ever agree to go out with me after everything that happened then?”

“what can i say? i thought you were pretty cute, once i looked past all the drunk. and also, no one’s made a song about me before.”

“.. a song?” baekhyun asks, a sense of dread coursing through his body. he’s not a bad singer, by any means, but he knows a spur of the moment singsong whilst under the influence of alcohol couldn't have been pretty.

“arm flex, are you okay?
so, arm flex, are you okay?
are you okay, arm flex?
you've been hit by,
you've been hit by,
a smooth criminal.”

baekhyun dry sobs. “stop, stop, stop! i can’t take it anymore. i don’t wanna know what else happened. i’m just glad i got home in one piece.”

“i’m glad, too. i had no idea how you were going to get yourself home in that state but i was relieved when you responded to my text.”

“how did you even get my number?”

“that was no walk in the park, let me tell you. when i asked you for it, all you did was scream ‘cheese’ at me. then i thought i could get your number by ringing myself from your phone but when i asked you where your phone was, you kept pointing to your crotch. luckily i found it on the floor, under your chair. otherwise you would’ve had no money and no phone.”

“wait a second. didn’t you give me money for the bus?”

chanyeol shakes his head. “nope, all i gave you were the napkins.”

“oh, good lord. did i try to pay for the bus with napkins?” baekhyun covers his face with his hands. how could his memory of what happened that morning be completely inaccurate?

“i really wish i could’ve seen that though, it would’ve been a hoot,” chanyeol teases, ducking when baekhyun threatens to throw the empty bottle of orange juice at him.

noticing a female employee standing behind his boyfriend with a frown on her face, baekhyun eyes her curiously and is taken aback when she tuts at him before turning on her heel. “did i… do something to that lady?” baekhyun asks, pointing to the woman in question.

“ah, yes. you almost got thrown out? you kept pounding your fist on the table and she was the one who asked you to stop making so much noise. then you started yelling something about not being some homeless man.”

“i don’t think i can show my face around here again,” baekhyun says as he rises to his feet.

“don’t be silly. sit back down, baek. if there’s one place you should stay away from though, it would be that bar you went to. turns out it wasn’t jongdae who tried to pee in the sink of the ladies room, it was—”

“—me,” baekhyun interjects, the foggy memory slowly returning to him.

“now that everything’s been cleared up, we should eat,” chanyeol suggests, placing a muffin into baekhyun’s hand. “this one’s yours, it’s special.”

special? baekhyun unwraps the egg mcmuffin but doesn’t find anything different about it. it’s just your bog standard run of the mill breakfast sandwich: cheese and egg slapped in between a buttered english muffin. baekhyun takes a closer look. wait a second, there’s two slices of cheese in his egg mcmuffin!

“there was one thing that you made pretty clear that morning. you like your egg mcmuffins with cheese.” there’s a wide grin plastered on chanyeol’s face. “so i asked them to put my slice of cheese into yours instead.”

“you might just be a keeper, park chanyeol.” baekhyun is about to take his first bite when a voice interrupts him.

“you! aren’t you the one who wandered into the drive-thru and threw up all over one of the windows? i thought i told you last time that you’re no longer welcome here!” a red-faced man—most likely one of the floor managers of the restaurant—shouts angrily. he points an accusing finger at baekhyun and begins to march over to their table.

chanyeol, after quickly stuffing the two egg mcmuffins into his pocket, grabs one of baekhyun’s hands. “run, baek, run!” he yells as he bolts toward the exit, dragging baekhyun along with him.

they jog for several blocks, slowing down once they’re certain no one is following them. catching their breath, they make eye contact and burst into laughter simultaneously. chanyeol pulls baekhyun into a tight embrace, giving him a brief squeeze before releasing him.

baekhyun stands on his tiptoes and gives chanyeol a quick peck on the lips. “that was kinda insane,” he comments, still panting for air.

“i think it’s safe to say we won’t be allowed back there anytime soon so you should probably savour this,” chanyeol says, pulling out the muffins from his pocket. “though i’m not quite sure how you’re going to survive without your precious egg mcmuffins.”

“there are more important things to life than egg mcmuffins, chanyeol,” baekhyun tells him with a smug grin. he never thought he’d ever utter those words; they feel almost blasphemous. if jongdae had been around, he probably would’ve tackled him to the ground screaming, “who are you and what have you done with the real byun baekhyun?”

who needs egg mcmuffins when you’ve got yourself a park chanyeol?

okay, baekhyun needs to stop eating so much cheese.













a/n:
i hope you have a wonderful birthday, chelsea cucumber. throws a pancake at you.
special thanks to gina, exie, line, rand, kayleigh, and bee 💕