Chanyeol is a natural-born thief.

He’s got an eye for perfection, an ability to spot out the best of the best even when it’s hidden behind sheens of dust and tricky padlocks. Jongin calls it the Bull’s-eye; the center target, a nearly impossible achievement. And though probability, luck, and, well, often times the police, are all working against him, Chanyeol still manages to toss the last dart and hit that Bull’s-eye with a smooth thwack.

All it really takes to pull it off is that little glint of perfection to spark his interest. And when Chanyeol spots something that catches his interest, it’s as good as his, red hot fingertips snatching it up before you can even take a breath. It makes him special, gives him something that no one else possesses (at least in his opinion), and gives him a reason to stick around.

Just aim, fire. Bull’s-eye.

And though he’s got a pretty impressive collection built up already, funded by years and years of slipping out of doorways like smoke and tucking precious items into his pockets, he can’t help but want something more. Despite all of his endeavors, Chanyeol has yet to find what he calls his “Absolute Perfection”.

But then one day Baekhyun stumbles through his haphazard life, and hits the Bull’s-eye with utmost precision.

 

The first time it happened, it wasn’t on purpose. It was merely instinct; eat or be eaten.

Chanyeol was alone that day for the first time in his entire life. A little boy on a street corner, no one to care for him or remind him not to run on the sidewalk or he might scrape his knees (which he had never listened to but was truly regretting it). He had glanced down solemnly at the tears in his pants, bloody drops staining the fair skin. And for the 36^th time since that horrific morning when his aunt had rushed in saying, your parents are gone, tragic accident, really, guess you’ll be living with me now, Chanyeol wished for his mother.

He nibbled at a hangnail, stared lovingly at the candy in the shop window, and brushed away stubborn tears with the back of his hand.

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to run away from the only family you had left. But Chanyeol couldn’t help it; he hated that woman with her nasally voice and fluttery hands and permanent scowl.

But there was one tiny problem; he had nowhere to go.

The bell over the shop door rang once and a couple rushed past Chanyeol, candy clutched in small bags against their chest. He glanced over his shoulder at them then let his eyes fall back on the door with his hands pressed against the glass of the window.

He just wanted a lollipop. It couldn’t hurt, right?

The door opened again and he slipped past the old man struggling with his cane and a bag of peppermints without a second thought. A wave of sweet scents hit him the moment the door swung shut again, eyes shutting in content as he took a staggeringly deep breath. He swore his mouth watered when his eyes opened again and landed on a lemon lollipop.

It’s not a crime if you don’t get caught.

He swallowed, wiggled his fingers in his pockets. The store owner gave him a curious glance as a phone rang somewhere in the back. He left grumbling with hefty footsteps against the wooden floor and Chanyeol smiled, a wide, shining grin, fingers dancing and curling around the smooth stick of the lollipop before he could consider a single consequence.

He was slipping behind racks of taffy and chocolate before the phone had even finished ringing, and the bell twinkling overhead left the only sign of his presence. He popped the lollipop in his mouth the moment he made it safely outside. The satisfaction tasted sweeter than the lemon on his tongue.

“That was pretty good.”

Chanyeol turned in surprise to meet the eyes of a boy just a bit older than himself, lips curled into an easy smile almost as big as his own. He was hunched over to meet Chanyeol’s gaze, a curious glint in his eyes. “You know, what you just did. It was pretty great. I’ve never seen a kid be so sneaky.”

Chanyeol flushed crimson. It’s not a crime if you don’t get caught.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he croaked, lollipop now tasting far too bitter. The boy laughed softly and Chanyeol was surprised to hear not a hint of sarcasm behind it. Just pure joy.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to bust you,” he said, ruffling Chanyeol’s hair. “My name’s Suho, and I’ve got a deal for you.”

“A deal?” Chanyeol had asked. His eyes widened curiously and his lips quirked into a smile.

Suho grinned, eyes crinkling at the corners. “One you simply can’t pass up.”

 

Suho wasn’t his real name, Chanyeol soon discovered.

Suho was really Kim Joonmyun, the “leader” of EXO. He was more of a father than anything. They happened to be professionals at what Chanyeol had begun to drabble in now that his life was led on the streets; stealing. Despite many of them being around Chanyeol’s age, still young kids, they were the best of the best at what they did.

“This is where we live,” Suho (call me Joonmyun while we’re not on the job) had said, gesturing to the little house in front of him. It looked more like a bunch of boards slapped together to Chanyeol. “It’s not much, but the kids like it. That’s all that counts.”

The kids happened to include a shy boy with a bit of an attitude named Jongin, a wide-eyed joker named Kyungsoo, and Sehun, the runt of them all with an attachment to sweet things. They welcomed Chanyeol with open arms and became his new family, showering him with all the love and care he had ever needed. They taught him techniques in their way of life; different ways to avoid getting caught and just how to utilize that Bull’s-eye of his.

Those four boys became everything he needed for the next ten years, and he had never been happier. But there was still that itch under his skin, a need for something more; the unquenched thirst for his Absolute Perfection.

 

“I can feel it, Jongin!” Chanyeol cries. It’s a hot day for spring and the pavement sizzles against his sneakers, but Jongin has the collar of his jacket tugged upwards and a frown on his face. “Can’t you? It’s right here.”

Jongin narrows his eyes at him in exasperation. “How many times do I have to tell you? We’re on a job. When we’re on jobs, it’s Kai.” He jams his fists into the pockets of his jacket. “And what exactly am I supposed to be feeling again?”

Chanyeol sighs loudly and a few heads on the sidewalk glance in his direction. He shrinks behind Jongin and leans his head close to the other’s to avoid being heard.

“Perfection, Jongin,” he purrs. “My Absolute Perfection. You know, you can feel it in the air. It’s like a soft buzzing that prickles at the back of your mind, playing hot and cold with you.” Jongin stares at him as if he’s crazy, because, well, he just might be. Chanyeol matches his gaze with a curling grin. “It’s not like I’ve been looking for it my entire life or anything, Jongin.” He grins widely, right eye almost winking but never quite closing. “You really are dense sometimes.”

Okay, so that last little snide tidbit wasn’t entirely necessary, but Chanyeol likes to dig under Jongin’s skin sometimes. Hey, it’s what brothers do.

“Just make sure you’re focused,” Jongin mutters. He glances over his shoulder as if expecting someone to be trailing behind them.

“I’m always focused,” Chanyeol scoffs. He drags the heel of his shoe against the sidewalk and tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Though I have to admit, I’m a bit miffed that my Absolute Perfection is in a produce market. That’s just degrading.” Jongin raises his eyebrows, opens his mouth, and gives up, deciding it’s not worth it.

The two weave their way through the crowds of people shopping for food and duck past sellers who give them cursory glances. They don’t exactly blend in amongst the other shoppers; Jongin with his sharp, handsome gaze and habit of catching his lips between his teeth, and Chanyeol with his long, gangly limbs and electric smile.

“You do remember what Suho told you, right?” Chanyeol waves Jongin’s words away and grins.

“Of course I do, Jongin. I’m not that scatterbrained.”

“Kai,” Jongin corrects, but he returns Chanyeol’s smile anyway and nudges him in the ribs.

They separate, falling easily into the plan they’ve rehearsed often. Chanyeol feigns interest in the leeks and Jongin disappears into a throng of old women fawning over a basket of apples.

Chanyeol knows what to do next; rock back on his heels, tangle his ankles, and “accidentally” tumble into the display of fruit and vegetables. But he surely didn’t expect to actually trip over a crate (curse his clumsiness) and knock the produce stand in Jongin’s direction, only to be offered help by what could only be described as wow.

There’s a dainty hand stretched out in front of him and a concerned gaze locked on his. “Oh my god, are you okay? Did you hurt something? Should I take you to the hospital?”

Chanyeol stares up at the face of an angel from amongst the oranges and hesitantly accepts the soft hand, voltage scalding his veins the moments their skin even slightly touches.

“I’m fine,” Chanyeol mumbles, struggling to his feet as Jongin snatches produce from the ground behind him. “Perfectly fine.” He smiles giddily and straightens his clothes in a hurry. The other boy just stares, eyes wide and head coked slightly to the right.

“Are you, um, are you sure? You look kind of…dazed.”

I found it I found it I found him I

“What?” Chanyeol says unintelligently, mouth slack as he maps out the sparkle of that boy’s eyes. Even his hair is perfect, untouched by the heinous hot breeze. His lips are pursed, dewy rose petals unfurling with his words, and his eyes mirror melting pools of dark quicksand tugging at Chanyeol’s ankles.  

“I really think you should sit down or something, I think you have a few nasty cuts on your-”

“Hey buddy, I finally found you,” Jongin says a bit too loudly, slinging an arm around Chanyeol’s next. The backpack strapped to his shoulders jiggles with the weight of at least twenty pears. “You fall down or something?”

Chanyeol can’t even move his lips, syllables falling flat on his tongue. The boy glances over at where Jongin stands, then back to Chanyeol. His nose scrunches and Chanyeol wants to coo at him or something because god that’s adorable.

“Your name is Buddy?” The boy inquires. Chanyeol registers the question with a sputter.

“No, ah, it’s Chanyeol. Park Chanyeol. What’s yours?” Jongin tenses visibly beside him and his grip tightens on his shoulder until Chanyeol is sure bruises will show the next morning.

“So, Chanyeol,” Jongin hisses against his ear, teeth clenched. “I think we should get back home and get you cleaned up.” Chanyeol wants to nod because that’s the part he supposed to be playing, but his Absolute Perfection is within arm’s reach and how can he back out now?

Jongin tugs against his shoulder and he almost falls again. He teeters backwards and suddenly Jongin’s hands are latched around his collar, dragging him away from his Perfection.

“Wait, J-” A sharp snap against his collar cuts him off and Chanyeol chokes. The boy opens his mouth as if to say something, eyes displaying his disbelief. Chanyeol swallows hard. “Um, goodbye! See you around!” He calls, trying out a bright smile.

The boy returns it hesitantly with a small wave and Chanyeol is suddenly grateful for Jongin’s grasp, keeping him upright, because his knees go weak. “I hope you’re okay, Chanyeol! My name is Baekhyun, by the way. Byun Baekhyun!”

Chanyeol commits that to memory.

Jongin waits until they’re out of sight from the market to smack Chanyeol hard against the back of the head. Chanyeol winces and ducks to avoid the next blow as Jongin seethes.

“What’s the point of a codename if you’re going to forget them every time we actually need them? You just told him your name, Chanyeol, and you almost used mine as well. That’s one of the stupidest things you’ve ever done.”

Chanyeol sighs and glances back over his shoulder to catch sight of the market, but Baekhyun is no where in sight. “All we had to do was do some simple grocery shopping and you can’t even manage not to mess that up. What am I supposed to tell Joonmyun?” Chanyeol rolls his eyes and drags his heels against the pavement.

“Jongin, you don’t understand.”

“What could I possibly not understand,” Jongin huffs, “the fact that you’re a lunatic?”

“You’re just jealous because I found my Absolute Perfection and he happens to be super cute,” Chanyeol sniffs. He’s expecting the punch to his arm before it happens.

 

“Chanyeol,” Joonmyun says quietly to him later that night.

Chanyeol’s hips are pressed up against the sink and his sleeves are shoved to his elbows as he scrubs at a pan. He doesn’t look up but he knows Joonmyun is searching him with his eyes, lips tight. “I didn’t mean to,” he murmurs thickly. The water sloshes in the sink as he reaches for the soap. “It’s just. I finally had it, hyung. He was right there. I was so close.”

Joonmyun smiles. He always does, but Chanyeol doesn’t quite know if that’s a blessing or a curse. “I love you Chanyeol, we all do, but you can’t keep slipping up like this. It’s putting all of us in danger. This perfection thing is getting in the way of our job.”

Chanyeol nods and focuses his eyes on the suds in the sink. Joonmyun nudges him playfully in the ribs. “Hey, don’t worry too much about it. Just make sure it doesn’t happen anymore. What’s our motto again?”

It’s not a crime if you don’t get caught, Chanyeol mouths silently to himself.

 

Baekhyun has an uneventful life.

It’s been like that since day one; average, routine, untouched by the world around him. He doesn’t hate it, per se, but he definitely doesn’t love it. He simply lives as he always has, never quite content and never perfectly happy.

He doesn’t go to university anymore; classes started costing too much after his father lost his job and had to cut off his funds. He spends most of his time drinking overpriced lattes from the café down the street and wandering through libraries until closing time. He works on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays at the supermarket and it pays enough to keep him off the street.

Simple, routine, and utterly boring.

Somewhere, at the back of his mind, he thinks he’s craving some sort of excitement, though he’d never admit it. He’s far too reserved. The only person he ever really talks to anymore is Zitao and that’s only because he works the register at the café.

It’s kind of sad, he thinks. No, it’s really sad.

But that day at the market throws him off balance, adds a bit too much weight to one side of the scale, leaving him dangling off of the ground. It’s because of Park Chanyeol and he knows that but Baekhyun doesn’t often like to acknowledge facts when they bring change.

But there’s something he can’t deny about the way Chanyeol’s hand felt in his when he offered to help him up, his eyes that shined as if they held the sun, the perfect glint of his teeth in the light. He was earth shattering change that left Baekhyun’s stagnant life filled with cracks.

The television doesn’t hold his interest anymore, the coffee doesn’t taste the same. He can’t sit still anymore and work is a drag. Baekhyun’s had a taste of something real and there’s no way he can turn back now.

He thinks about what might happen if he ever saw that boy with the brilliant smile again. He thinks about what it would be like to hold his hand and take him out for coffee and drag him to indie concerts on Saturdays. He thinks about looking him up in the phone book, dialing his number, saying Hey Chanyeol, remember me? I know this is probably really creepy but I think you’re super cute and I want to see you again.

Luckily (or unluckily, depends on how you look at it) he doesn’t have to think for long, because Chanyeol comes to him.

 

Though Chanyeol can be scatterbrained and forgetful at times, he’s not an idiot. When he wants something, he knows exactly how to get it, and he knows exactly how to avoid getting caught.

It’s not hard to find Baekhyun once he knows his name. He tracks him down surprisingly easily and conducts his “research” immediately.

He likes noticing the little things about Baekhyun; the way he stops by the coffee shop for a cappuccino every morning before class, the little crinkles in his nose when something confuses him, his long, flawless fingers, his nice taste in fashion. He likes the buzz of joy that unfurls in his chest every time he sees Baekhyun, likes to imagine what it might feel like to touch him again, maybe even hold his hand. He thinks of Baekhyun as his to protect, his to spoil, his to fawn over, even if the other has probably forgotten his name by now.

His plan is simple, really. He’s a thief for god’s sake. If he wants something, he takes it, easy as that. All he has to do is get Baekhyun alone.

He’s ambling down the sidewalk trying to think of a way to put his plan into motion when he stumbles over a crack in the pavement, glancing up in surprise and zeroing in on a sight that’s all too familiar. Baekhyun, standing in front of his apartment, fumbling with his keys. Alone.

He grins. Too easy

He’s good at being quiet, despite the fact that his limbs could rival a giraffe. He watches, waits, as Baekhyun slips the spare key back under the doormat and shuts the door behind him. Chanyeol waits for another few moments until the lights inside flick. He follows after him and shuts the door silently, praying that the floor boards don’t creak under his feet. His mind registers a far off thought that maybe this was an offense more serious than stealing petty items off of the street but he waves it away when the key clicks smoothly in the lock.

The a soft sound travelling throughout the house, the splattering of water hitting porcelain mixed with the most angelic sound he’s ever heard. Baekhyun’s singing. His Baekhyun.

He grins triumphantly to himself and glances around the place, admiring the simple décor. He supposes maybe he should hide, but a quick sweep alerts him that he’s far too tall and lanky to even attempt at squeezing himself into the nooks and crannies of Baekhyun’s apartment.

The water stops running and Chanyeol glances up in surprise as the doorknob to the bathroom rattles. He swallows, body in full view of Baekhyun. Well, he always was one for being blunt about things. He might as well just make himself known.

The door opens and Chanyeol opens his mouth to speak but slams it shut again, cheeks crimson and eyes the size of dinner plates. Baekhyun is scrubbing at his hair with a towel with his eyes shut tight, a content smile on his face as he continues humming.

He’s . .

“Hi,” Chanyeol croaks, unable to tear his eyes away from the plains of Baekhyun’s silky skin. Baekhyun’s eyes shoot open.

He screams loud enough to shatter glass.

Chanyeol winces and holds his hands up in defense, hurrying towards Baekhyun. Okay, fine, so it was a bad idea; he should’ve hidden. Hell, he could have just struck up a conversation in the first place.

Oh well. Too late now.

Chanyeol struggles to find his voice as Baekhyun panics. “Wait, wait!” He calls, waving his hands wildly. Baekhyun simply screams again and frantically mummifies himself with the towel, stumbling backwards.

“Why are you in my house? You…you…why…” He gasps and spins around, looking for an escape.

“Wait, watch out you’ll-” Chanyeol starts as Baekhyun tumbles backwards and curses, slipping on the water dripping from his shower and hitting his head with a sharp clunk against the rim of the bathtub. He groans once, low in his throat, and Chanyeol winces. “…slip.”

He steps forward cautiously and pokes Baekhyun’s side. His eyelashes flutter but he simply groans again and remains still, face contorted in pain. Chanyeol bends down and scoops him up in his arms, planting a gentle kiss to his forehead against the growing bump and cradling his head in the crook of his neck. He doesn’t even bother to dress Baekhyun again, deeming the task too difficult, and simply tucks the towel tighter around him before stepping out into the falling dusk. He’s going to take Baekhyun home, where he’ll complete Chanyeol’s perfect collection.

Well, he thinks. That went better than expected.

 

“Who,” Kyungsoo breathes, “is that.”

Chanyeol glances over at Baekhyun curled cutely in the blankets scattered over his bed, still knocked out cold from The Bathtub Incident. He’s draped in one of Chanyeol’s old t-shirts (at least four sizes too big) and the only pair of clean boxers Chanyeol could dig out of Sehun’s room.

“This is Baekhyunnie,” Chanyeol beams, running his hand softly through the mess of waves adorning Baekhyun.

Joonmyun presses his fingertips against his temples. “Chanyeol,” he says. He clears his throat. “Chanyeol.”

“Yes,” he answers, frowning. “That’s my name.”

“That is a person,” Joonmyun says. “We may be thieves, but we do not steal people. That is called kidnapping.”

Chanyeol frowns and starts to respond but suddenly Baekhyun stirs, sighing heavily. Chanyeol grins and straightens up in his chair. He leaps into the bed and Baekhyun lets out a strangled yelp of surprise as Chanyeol’s arms tighten protectively around his waist.

“I didn’t kidnap him,” Chanyeol protests with a shining grin. “Baekhyun wants to stay with me. Right, Baekhyunnie?”

“Um,” Baekhyun says.

Joonmyun stares in silence and Kyungsoo bolts, leaving the door swinging in his wake and shouting “I am not a part of this!” at the top of his lungs.

“Chanyeol,” Joonmyun sighs again. He runs a hand through his hair. “Don’t let this get out of hand.” Chanyeol waves him away, still wrapped around a terrified and disoriented Baekhyun with a content smile on his face.

“Don’t worry,” Chanyeol answers. “Baekhyun is my Absolute Perfection. Nothing can go wrong.”

 

It turns out that perhaps things can go wrong, because the first thing that Baekhyun says when Joonmyun disappears is “Oh my god, I’m calling the police.”

Chanyeol doesn’t dignify his words and simply shines his brilliant smile at Baekhyun. “Hi Baekhyunnie, I’m Chanyeol.”

Baekhyun freezes as recognition dawns over him again and if possible, his eyes bulge even wider. Chanyeol keeps one arm anchored around his waist and uses the other to rub gently at a bruising bump on Baekhyun’s head. “How does your head feel? You hit it pretty hard.”

Baekhyun gapes. He swallows and tries not to let the fact that Chanyeol is pressed so closely against him throw him off track. “I, um, I’m going to call the police. You’re going to be arrested for abduction.”

“Well,” Chanyeol says with a frown as Baekhyun shoves helplessly against his chest and struggles in his grasp. “That’s not very nice.”

Baekhyun freezes, eyes incredulous. “Not very nice?” He takes a shuddering breath as Chanyeol tilts his head innocently. He pats at his pockets in search of his cell phone, only to look down with wide eyes and realize he’s wearing some very unfamiliar boxers. He tries to sound stern but his voice comes out small. “You…you kidnapped me.”

Chanyeol pouts. He glances down at the place where Baekhyun’s hand still rests weakly against his shoulder and admires his long, manicured fingers. “I wouldn’t call it kidnapping. That’s such a harsh word. What about…a sleepover? A really long one?”

Baekhyun stares. And stares. He takes in the curly mess of hair, the electric smile, the wide, innocent eyes. “Um,” he says again.

“You’re so cute, Baekhyunnie!” Chanyeol coos. He curls even closer to Baekhyun who scrambles frantically out of his hold and presses his back against the headboard, face flushed with a crimson blush.

“Can you just, um, tell me what you want? I don’t have very much money, but I’m sure we could work something out. I’ll give you whatever you want, if you just, you know…let me go. I’ll even take you out for coffee, my treat.” He gestures frantically with his hands and scoots even closer to the edge of the bed. Chanyeol sure isn’t making this easy on his feelings.

Chanyeol pouts. “I don’t want money, silly. I just want you, here, with me. You’re my Absolute Perfection, Baekhyun, that’s all I need.”

Baekhyun opens his mouth and closes it; open, close, open, close. He’s positive that he’s a tomato by now. “I’m your what?”

Chanyeol purses his lips and his nose scrunches. Baekhyun squeals inside and has to remind himself that this guy just kidnapped him. “My Absolute Perfection. You’re the one thing I’ve been missing my entire life and I can’t let you go now. That’s why I brought you home with me.”

Baekhyun stares. He feels the hysterical laughter bubbling from his chest before it spills out of his mouth, chest heaving, eyes squeezing shut. Chanyeol his head in confusion.

“You could’ve just asked me on a date,” Baekhyun says.

 

Are prisoners supposed to enjoy being with their kidnappers? Baekhyun thinks that the answer is probably no, and that he’s probably the weirdest kidnappee (is that a word? He doesn’t think so) in the entire world.

But he can’t deny that he likes being around Chanyeol, even if the guy is, well, really weird. But he’s adorably naïve and sweet which makes up for everything else, in Baekhyun’s opinion.

Chanyeol cooks him breakfast and introduces him to the rest of his “gang”. Baekhyun feels like a scrutinized dwarf sitting at the table in Chanyeol’s mammoth sized shirt and a still unidentified pair of boxers. The four boys surrounding him simply stare as Chanyeol grins like a maniac over their shoulders.

“I can’t believe you did it,” one of them says. Baekhyun recognizes him from the day at the market. “I mean, I knew you were crazy, but this is like…a new level of crazy.” Chanyeol snorts and waves a spatula at him as the other boy ducks.

“No one asked you Jongin, my mental state is perfectly fine thank you very much.” One boy with sleepy eyes and full lips grimaces, drumming his fingertips against the table.

“I highly doubt that Chanyeol. And who told you that you could lend out my boxers? That’s my favorite pair,” he whines. Baekhyun swallows and wonders if he should offer them back, but pushes that thought to the back of his mind after careful consideration.

“Well, Baekhyun. It’s very nice to meet you.” A hand is extended out to him and he looks up to see what must be the kindest smile in history. “I’m Joonmyun.” Baekhyun accepts the hand timidly, trying not to let the way the boy beside him is staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights unnerve him. The boy leans close to Joonmyun to whisper in his ear but his eyes never leave Baekhyun.

“Do you think he knows?” Baekhyun catches as he whispers.

“Knows what?” Baekhyun asks. The boy’s eyes widen even further than before and he lets out a strangled yelp before darting out of the room.

“Don’t mind Kyungsoo,” Joonmyun says. “He can be…skittish.” He drums his fingertips against the table and gives Baekhyun another one of those angelic smiles. “He was just wondering if you knew about…us. We’re thieves.” Jongin glances up at the other boy in surprise and tugs at his sleeve but Joonmyun shakes him off. “Come on Jongin, there’s no use hiding it. Chanyeol already kidnapped him, how much worse could it get?”

Baekhyun watches them in wonder, contemplating if he should respond, until he feels a hand on his shoulder. Chanyeol leans down close and smiles against his cheek. “Hungry, Baekhyun-ah?” Baekhyun nods slowly as a plate of food is placed before him and the boy with the sleepy eyes reaches out towards it.

Chanyeol bats at his hand with a spatula. “Yah, Sehun! That’s for Baekhyunnie, make your own food.” Sehun pouts and dips out of the room, heading for the kitchen.

Chanyeol sits down beside him and watches as Baekhyun takes the first bite. He chews slowly; it’s surprisingly delicious. “Good?” Chanyeol asks, nibbling anxiously at his bottom lip. Baekhyun nods and Chanyeol’s face lights up with a satisfied grin.

“Well,” Joonmyun says. “We’ll leave you two alone.” He nods his head at Jongin who follows with a sigh, leaving Baekhyun with only Chanyeol’s company.

“So Baekhyun,” Chanyeol says. He makes as if to reach out and take Baekhyun’s hand but stops a few centimeters away. “You want to go get coffee? My treat.”

Baekhyun glances up from his plate in surprise and meets Chanyeol’s eyes. “You…you’d do that?”

Chanyeol grins. “As long as you don’t run away from me,” he answers.

Baekhyun doesn’t think he’d want to, even if he had the opportunity.  

 

Chanyeol lends him a pair of Sehun’s pants, despite the younger’s complaints, and leads both of them to the café Baekhyun frequents. He orders them both lattes with cream and Baekhyun doesn’t question the fact that Chanyeol seems to know all about him without ever having asked. He decides it’s better to leave that to the unknown.

They sit down at a small table in the back of the café and Chanyeol pulls out his chair for him before handing Baekhyun his coffee. Baekhyun is sure that he flushes pink, but if he does, Chanyeol doesn’t say anything, just smiles brightly from across the table.

They sip at the foam of the lattes for a few minutes in an unsettling silence and Baekhyun shifts in his chair. Chanyeol leans forward, chin in his hands, and tilts his head to the right. “Do you think I’m weird, Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun almost chokes. What kind of kidnapper asks their prisoner if they think they’re weird?

“No,” Baekhyun stutters. “I think you’re cute.” His eyes widens after he realizes what he’s just said and he wishes that he could just sink down into his chair and disappear forever.

Chanyeol laughs, nose crinkling and right eye scrunching shut in what Baekhyun struggles to identify as a wink or a twitch. “I think you’re cute too Baekhyunnie,” he says. This time, when he reaches across the table, he links their fingers together and keeps their palms flush against each other. Baekhyun doesn’t mind one bit.

 

In some ways, it is like a giant sleepover, except Baekhyun doesn’t go home the next morning, or the next.

He knows he should’ve called the police the first day, labeled Chanyeol a lunatic and escaped with his heart still intact. But how could he possibly do that? How could he have left? It’s impossible not to like Chanyeol, not when his hands trace words on Baekhyun’s back at night and laughs like a madman and tells him about how perfect he is.

How could he give that up?

He likes sleeping beside Chanyeol in his old clothes, likes looking at the collection of (stolen?) trinkets lining his shelves, likes hearing him laugh. He plays video games with Sehun and actually has a real conversation with Kyungsoo and even makes Jongin laugh. He likes being mothered by Joonmyun and hearing stories about their past together, likes seeing Chanyeol blush and pout when they tell a particularly embarrassing story.

He stays for another two weeks. Every time the doubts come back to haunt him, he tells himself that he’s trapped without a way out to put his mind at ease. But to be honest, there’s an odd feeling in his chest. Somewhere, at the back of his mind, he knows that Chanyeol would let him go if he really wanted to leave, and that he isn’t really trapped at all.

That’s what makes it the hardest, because Baekhyun doesn’t want to leave.

 

 Baekhyun falls asleep early one night and Joonmyun corners Chanyeol in the kitchen. It’s his dish duty night again.

Chanyeol hears him come in but doesn’t look up from the soapy water, head bowed and sandy hair in his eyes. “Chanyeol,” Joonmyun murmurs. “You know you can’t keep this up forever.”

Chanyeol focuses on the pan, scrubbing at Kyungsoo’s leftover kimchi spaghetti. “I’m not keeping anything up,” he says quietly. His voice is almost lost in the sound of water sloshing in the basin as Joonmyun presses his back to the countertop beside him.

“You can’t keep him here like this. Listen, I know you like him, but he’s a person, Chanyeol. You took him away from his life without even asking his opinion. You’re keeping him against his will.”

Chanyeol frowns at the suds. “Baekhyun likes it here,” he answers. “He told me so. He was lonely before hyung, you should’ve seen him. He had no one.” He rinses the pan and moves on to the next. “When he’s here with me, I can take care of him. He doesn’t have to be alone anymore.”

Joonmyun is quiet for a moment and he watches as Chanyeol’s hands splash in the warm water, fingers reduced to prunes. “Maybe he likes being alone,” he says. “Take that into consideration.” He pats Chanyeol’s shoulder softly and gives him a smile. “Just make sure you don’t act selfishly. Make sure it’s his happiness you’re thinking about, not just yours.”

Chanyeol frowns at Joonmyun’s back as he leaves and accidentally breaks a glass in the sink. He doesn’t notice when his thumb begins to bleed.

 

He crawls into bed beside Baekhyun later and the other boy curls into him immediately, chestnut hair brushing against his chest and long fingers clenching the fabric of his shirt. He sighs against the top of Baekhyun’s head and runs his bandaged thumb over where the bump used to lie, now reduced to a tiny bruise.

“Chanyeol?” Baekhyun hums, voice thick with sleep.

“Shh, it’s okay, go back to sleep,” Chanyeol says, forcing a smile. Baekhyun doesn’t notice the discomfort behind it through sleepy, hooded eyes and returns it with a genuine smile of his own. He lets his head fall again and snuggles close to Chanyeol, purring in his sleep merely seconds later.

Chanyeol’s eyes prickle with stinging tears and he presses his nose into Baekhyun’s hair, willing himself not to cry. He hasn’t cried since the day he met Joonmyun, and he’s not going to change that now.

 

Baekhyun is shifting through Chanyeol’s closet, hair still damp from his shower, when Chanyeol says it.

“I think you should leave,” he says quietly. Baekhyun glances at him over his bare shoulder in surprise.

“What do you mean?”

Chanyeol takes a deep breath, fighting against the rising lump at the back of his throat. “I mean, I’m letting you go. You’re free. You can go home now Baekhyun, it’s not fair for me to keep you here.”

Baekhyun’s breath hitches in his throat. He tries to smile, once, twice, but each time it turns into a twisted grimace. His fingers curl tightly around Chanyeol’s shirt still clutched in his hand, eyes downcast. “Um, okay. I’ll just. Get dressed.”

“You can keep that shirt,” Chanyeol says quietly. Baekhyun pauses, nods numbly and tugs it over his head. The material isn’t nearly as soft as he remembered.

Chanyeol walks him back to his house with his hands tucked in his pockets. He keeps his distance from Baekhyun and presses his lips in a firm line. Baekhyun doesn’t like the absence of his smile, doesn’t like the silence between them, doesn’t like that he can’t reach out and take Chanyeol’s hand in his own.

“We’re here,” Chanyeol announces. Baekhyun snaps his head up and his gaze clouds.

“Oh, yeah,” he says softly. He laughs halfheartedly. “My work is probably going crazy by now.” Or maybe they haven’t even noticed I’ve been gone.

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol says. He faces crumbles slightly and he takes a breath, looking down. Baekhyun instantly feels guilty for even bringing it up.

“I guess I’ll see you around,” Chanyeol says.

“You know,” Baekhyun starts frantically. “I don’t have to, um, I could-”

Chanyeol shakes his head and gives Baekhyun a smile. It’s entirely too fake, too…not Chanyeol. “Bye, Baekhyunnie.” He turns to go before Baekhyun can offer his own goodbye, hands tucked deep into his pockets and eyes squeezing shut.

Baekhyun stands for a moment and watches him go, hands toying with the hem of Chanyeol’s shirt, before making his way to the front door and retrieving the spare key. He shuts the door behind him and stand in the hallway, waiting for Chanyeol to say “Hey Baekhyun, how about some coffee?”

He’s met with a silence even lonelier than before.

 

Joonmyun catches him before he can slip past the others.

“Hey, Chanyeol, where did you go? I was looking all over for you.” Chanyeol doesn’t answer and Joonmyun glances around, eyes widening. “Wait, where’s Baekhyun?”

Chanyeol pauses and splays his fingertips against the wall as he fumbles with his shoes. “I took him home.”

Joonmyun smiles radiantly and ruffles his hair, even if he has to reach up quite a bit to manage it. “I’m proud of you Chanyeol.”

He doesn’t answer, just brushes past him and clicks his bedroom door closed, willing the tears away until he falls onto the bed as he curls up into a lanky ball around Baekhyun’s pillow. It used to be our bedroom, he thinks. For two weeks, I had perfection, and now he’s gone. It’s not fair.

It really isn’t.

 

Baekhyun goes to the café three days after he returns home. He thought it might be a good idea to get out of the house now that he was alone again, but he couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Hey,” Zitao says, waving eagerly. “Where’s Chanyeol?”

He doesn’t go back again.

Baekhyun finds himself watching the sidewalks for tall boys with unruly hair and boisterous laughs. He frequents the market and hangs out around the leeks with a basket tucked against the crook of his arm. He walks past Chanyeol’s house, once, twice, too many times to count before he stops making himself go. He sleeps with Chanyeol’s shirt on and makes kimchi spaghetti for dinner with lots of cheese, even if he’s the only one there to enjoy it.

He wonders what might happen if he ever called Chanyeol, or just showed up on his doorstep. Would he be welcomed back with open arms, or pushed away? He stops wondering when the second option becomes to harsh to bear.

He’s getting ready for work when he hears someone at the door. A sharp rap, three heavy knocks against the wood. He his head in confusion (a habit he had unconsciously picked up from Chanyeol), shirt only half on and jeans hanging low on his hips.

He makes his way down the hallway and opens the door without a moment’s hesitation. His breath hitches in his throat.

 “I knocked this time,” Chanyeol says, tongue darting out to dampen his lips. “And you’re not .”

“Unfortunately not,” Baekhyun says faintly. His fingertips encircle the doorknob and he hesitates. “Do you want to, um, come inside?” Chanyeol rubs gently at the back of his neck and nods.  The moment he steps inside, Baekhyun shuts the door and presses the taller boy up against it, catching him by surprise.

“You…stupid…idiot…” He says, pounding his fists relentlessly against Chanyeol’s chest. He buries his head into the other’s shirt and cries helplessly, hiccupping through his tears as he curls his fingers into Chanyeol’s hair. “I never wanted to, hic, leave, hic. I wanted to, hic, stay with you. I missed you.”

Chanyeol catches his wrists, encircling them with his long fingers until Baekhyun finally stops hitting him. He looks up and finds Chanyeol’s bright, electric bright right in front of him. “You mean that, Baekhyunnie?” He says. “You really missed me?”

Baekhyun swallows and nods, wrists still in Chanyeol’s grasp. “I-I did.”

Chanyeol leans close to him, only separated by a breath. “I missed you too,” he murmurs. He presses his lips against Baekhyun’s cheeks and kisses away the damp tracks of tears one by one, eyes fluttering shut. He follows the guide of Baekhyun’s skin until their lips meet, melting against the smaller boy and encircling in his arms.

Baekhyun’s hands slide forward to cup Chanyeol’s jaw as he slants his lips against him, heart pounding against his chest. He doesn’t want to pull away, doesn’t want to take a breath, but his lungs are aching and he’s melting under Chanyeol’s fingertips.

It’s Chanyeol that leans away first, panting. He presses his forehead against Baekhyun’s and smiles. “Please don’t leave me,” he whispers. “You’re my Perfection, Baekhyunnie. I don’t want to lose you again.”

Baekhyun laughs, breathy and quiet. “I’m not perfect Chanyeol, but I’m willing to be anything you need.” He runs his fingertips gently along the line of Chanyeol’s jaw and splays them against his collarbones. “I’m yours.”

They sleep in Baekhyun’s bed that night, curled together and stealing kisses in the darkness. They bump noses a few times and Chanyeol rolls over onto Baekhyun once but it’s perfectly awkward. Baekhyun is just beginning to fall asleep when Chanyeol pets his hair softly and whispers in his ear.

“Do you mind if I kidnap you again tomorrow?” He says through a grin. “There’s a great indie band in town that I think you’d really like.”

Baekhyun answers him with a dazed kiss, fingers curled in the collar of his shirt. His words are almost lost in the tangle of their lips when he speaks.

“I thought you’d never ask.”