It is the job of thinking people not to be on the side of the executioners.

-Albert Camus

Luhan could not have been more surprised to see Chanyeol. As he sat down in the folding chair, Luhan fumbled for the phone, dropping it and prompting an irritated look from the guard on his side.

"Channie?" The older man pressed his hands on the smudged glass between them. "S , what are you--"

Chanyeol shook his head and Luhan fell silent, some sort of silent communication having passed between them. Luhan sunk into his chair. 

"Oh, kid." He looked Chanyeol up and down, noting the tiredness in his face from a day and a half of no sleep and the sagging of his shoulders. 

"Yeah, I haven't...ugh. I don't know." Chanyeol rubbed his face. "G-d."

"Talk to me. Talk business."

Code for the killing folks. Part of Chanyeol wanted to cry knowing that Luhan, even after being behind bars for two years, knew the procedure. "I had a project that got taken over by another guy; boss took me out of it. And, uh, I've heard that this guy isn't too friendly towards...towards me, and that he's really competitive or something. And that I should stay out of his way. But I can't, because I have...connections to the project."

"What's his name?" Luhan leaned in, brow furrowed.

"His first name's Kris. With a K."

Luhan's eyes went wide for a moment. "That's, uh, that's a unique name. Um. I've heard it before...isn't he that big 'Wall Street' guy? From what I know, he's kinda argumentative and not exactly the nicest guy to be around." He shook his head slightly and mouthed, Oh G-d.

"Is he really?"

"Yeah. Don't get him pissed off." Luhan put his hand on the glass again. "Be careful, kid. Keep visiting, or I'll think you're dead." He laughed for show, but none of the smile reached his eyes.

While Baekhyun was in the shower, he heard Sehun calling his name.

"Hang on!" Baekhyun slammed on the shower handle and stuck his head out of the stall, wiping at the shampoo falling onto his face. "What do you want?"

"Someone's calling you! It's, uh, the name's Chan--"

Baekhyun threw open the door and grabbed the phone from Sehun before ducking back into the bathroom with his sweatpants loose around his hips.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Hyunnie."

Baekhyun smiled at the unexpected pet name. "Hi, Yeol."

"We never got to grab drinks together. You free tonight?"

"I think so. Today was the last day of school for the kids before winter break, so I don't have anything to do."

"Gotcha. I can pick you up at around seven. Is that good? Robinhood&Co. has great flatbread."

"Sure. I'll p--"

"I'm paying."

"Oh, for G-d's sake. Let me pay, for once."

"We can get frozen yogurt after. You pay for that."

"It's the middle of winter." Baekhyun rolled his eyes. "But fine."

"Awesome. I'll see you soon."

It was six twenty-eight, and Baekhyun scrubbed out the suds in his hair with a ferocity comparable only to when Yixing got mad at Sehun for tipping over the cactus in the living room. He raced to his room, pushing past a bewildered Jongdae and hair still damp after using the busted dryer. 

Rarely did Baekhyun care about what he wore--his daily attire consisted of his old jacket and whatever clothes were out of the wash--and he cursed that nonchalance as he threw his closet apart for something appropriate to wear. His best button-up was dirty, he'd worn his blue jeans for a week straight, and Sehun was borrowing his only good leather jacket for a date that same night. Eventually, he reached the back of his closet, and he groaned.

Hanging in front of him was the perfect outfit: Yixing's old monochrome colorblock shirt, which had shrunk too much in the wash and was handed down to the shortest resident of the house (Baekhyun) and Baekhyun's black skinny jeans from college. The ones Jongdae had made fun of for having rips in "seductive places" ("You've worn worse").

Perfect, just not on him.

Maybe Sehun would look good in this, Baekhyun thought, holding the two up together. He's model-y.

Yixing knocked lightly on the door and peeked in. "Hey, Baekhy--oh. Sorry."

"Wait, Lay, can you tell me if this looks okay?" Baekhyun held the pieces up against himself. 

Yixing blinked and looked his roommate up and down. "I mean, it looks fine...does it fit?"

"Let's see."

The shirt was perfect, as did all of Yixing's hand-me-downs, and the jeans were--surprisingly--loose.

"Did I lose weight?" Baekhyun turned around in front of the floor-length mirror in Sehun's room. The waist of the pants was larger than he remembered, and they barely hung from his hips.

"I think you used to wear a belt with that. The legs still look fine." Yixing poked at the fabric on Baekhyun's thighs, snug but not too much.

"Huh. I guess I'll just do that."

When Chanyeol pulled up half an hour later, Baekhyun was outside, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot in the snow that remained with a small plastic bag hanging from his wrist.

"Hey, Chanyeol." Baekhyun clambered into the passenger seat, nearly knocking his head off on the roof of the car. "Crap." He pouted, rubbing at the crown of his head.

"You alright?" Chanyeol leaned over to pat Baekhyun, forcing back a grin. "Maybe I should teach the car a lesson for hurting you." Baekhyun laughed, and Chanyeol made a face at the roof. "How dare you."

The further out into the city they drove, the more people roamed the streets. Baekhyun watched the crowds, intrigued; holiday shopping was at its height, and it seemed that the lines on High Avenue with its boutiques and high-end shops would never end. Fairy lights glittered in the trees by the road, and someone had hung a few oversized ornaments on one of the snow-covered branches.

Chanyeol was a good driver, but he couldn't help but sneak glances over at his passenger in the next seat, face lit up both by excitement and the lights from outside. Baekhyun's mouth hung open slightly, and his nose was almost pressed against the window. 

They slowed to a stop in Chanyeol's apartment parking lot. 

"We should walk from here," he said. "Robinhood's at the end of the block, and they don't have a parking lot." Chanyeol looked around the car for anything he needed with him, and he laughed at the sight of Baekhyun still staring out the window with the fuzz on his jacket surrounding him like a nest for his head.

Baekhyun turned to Chanyeol, confused. "What?"

"Nothing. Don't worry."

Robinghood&Co. smelled like cinnamon and coffee, and Baekhyun stopped in the doorway just to take it in.

Chanyeol raised an eyebrow at him, and Baekhyun stuck his tongue out before settling down in a booth by the door. He unwrapped the scarf around his neck, then stopped. Chanyeol hadn't sat down, instead scanning the cozy restaurant with almost hawk-like eyes.

"Chan?"

The taller man blinked something away and turned towards Baekhyun. "There's another place back there. It might be warmer." He pointed at a couch and table in the back corner, right by the bar. 

"Oh. Okay."

As Baekhyun settled into the new spot, Chanyeol approached a waitress he knew well, polishing forks behind the bar.

"Hey, Boa."

The brown-haired waitress looked up, breaking into a smile at the sight of her old friend. 

"Chanyeol! I haven't seen you in a while." She put down the utensils and stepped around to give Chanyeol her usual tight, rib-crushing hug. He gasped for breath, and Boa laughed. "Still a bit of a wimp, I see."

Chanyeol cleared his throat, struggling to regain his composure. "I, uh, I have a friend with me this time. I wanted to ask you to keep an eye out for anyone suspicious."

Boa peered around her much taller companion at Baekhyun, counting sugar packets at the couch table. "Him? Neon yellow jacket?"

Chanyeol looked back. "Yeah."

Boa nodded and winked. "I got you." She patted Chanyeol on the arm before returning to her spot behind the bar. "I'll get to your table in a minute."

Baekhyun had made a mess of the sugar back at the table. He looked up as Chanyeol sat down.

"There's twelve of these little brown ones and fifteen Splendas," he said.

Chanyeol ruffled Baekhyun's hair, and the shorter man swatted his hand away.

"Is this how you pass time?" Chanyeol asked, looking down at the packets scattered across the table. 

"It is now."

Boa came up with two menus, adjusting her nametag. "Sorry. The other waiters usually forget to leave menus out on the couch tables. Take your time with them."

"I'll take the usual," Chanyeol said.

Boa scribbled something onto her notepad, then smirked. "Not so usual when you haven't been here in three months."

Baekhyun looked between the two, then looked down at the mangled gloves on his hands, something twisting in his chest. He elbowed Chanyeol gently. "Can you pick something for me?" he asked.

"Sure." Chanyeol skimmed the menu, then looked back up at Boa. "French dip. Sweet potato fries on the side as well, and, uh..."

"Want one of the couples' sides?" Boa gave Chanyeol a look he was very familiar with, and he sighed. 

Baekhyun was blushing furiously, but he managed not to hide behind his menu. "What's--what's in one of the...that?"

"A salad for two and bread." Boa shrugged. "It's a fair size."

"Let's go with that," Chanyeol said, folding up the menu and handing it back. 

"Anything to drink?"

"Lemonade for me, and..." 

"Another lemonade."

"Awesome. Give it maybe twenty minutes and I'll bring it out for you."

As she left, Baekhyun turned to Chanyeol with questioning eyes. Before he could ask anything, Chanyeol decided to explain.

"We grew up together; she lived down the street from mine, and since she's a few years older than I am she was basically my older sister. My dad tried to get her to, um, work in his company, but she didn't want to, but she still helps me out."

"You work under your dad?"

"Sort of. We're in the same area."

"And what's that?"

Baekhyun was staring at him, genuinely interested and completely oblivious. Chanyeol smiled and patted him on the head. "Medical equipment production," he said, the lie he had told a thousand plus times rolling smoothly off his tongue. "I have a side job in fashion, though."

"Wow. You know what you're doing, huh?"

Chanyeol looked at Boa behind the bar, at the way she kept glancing at the door and the kitchen entrance. Then down at his belt with the hidden blade. Then at his coat with the hidden compartment for his gun.

Not really.

"Yeah. I guess I do."

As Chanyeol drove Baekhyun back home, he watched the sides of the road with double vigilance, almost crashing into a telephone pole while making a turn. 

"Oh G-d." Baekhyun's hand shot to the overhead handle. "That was..." He looked over at the driving Chanyeol, knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. "Are you okay?"

Chanyeol forced himself to relax. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

He hit the brakes a little too hard in front of Baekhyun's house, prompting another questioning.

Instead of replying, he grabbed Baekhyun's hand, startling both of them.

"Baek," he started, then looked away, unsure of what to say.

Baekhyun was switching focus between Chanyeol's face and his hand. 

Finally, Chanyeol let go, and he sighed. "Sorry. I just..." He mustered the courage to make eye contact. "If anything ever happens, if you ever feel like you're in danger, just...you have to tell me. Okay?"

Baekhyun laughed nervously. "What's this about?"

"Can you promise me?"

"I don't get--"

"Please."

The tone in Chanyeol's voice had changed, and Baekhyun swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of the darkness outside. "I--okay, yeah. I promise."

"Good."

Baekhyun tumbled out of the car, perplexed, casting a few glances back before fully entering the house. Chanyeol waited for the door to close for a full fifteen seconds before driving away.

There were plenty of things to be afraid of at night, he thought, eyes doing a left-right onto both sides of the road as he drove. 

But most of the time, they were the same as those to be afraid of during the day.