“I told you—“ Chanyeol grunted, “I’m not for sale!” He cried for the nth time as he was forcefully shoved inside his ‘buyer’s’ home, far from his pathetic display of a yard sale. His eyes darted here and there, confusion and anxiety quickly consuming him at what this guy’s actual motives were for ‘buying’ and ‘kidnapping’ him in the span of twenty minutes.

“But you said that I could choose and have anything on display,” Yifan smirked, pushing the frightened and equally disturbed young male forward till his lanky limbs disentangled themselves to what looked like his living room. “And it just so happened that I preferred to have you.”

“What!” Chanyeol gaped; turning around to face his ‘customer’, sweat trickling down the side of his face as he panicked. “That’s not what I meant!” The last thing in his mind was to become this man’s object for some crazy personal collection, but before he could argue, the (equally) tall male approached him confidently, placing a hand on his shoulder and pressing a firm kiss onto his unsuspecting lips.

Well—scratch that. This was the last thing in his mind.

Chanyeol flailed his arms, quickly positioning themselves onto Yifan’s chest, resisting the kiss while pushing himself away. “What—What are you doing?!”

“Testing out the new product?” Yifan tilted his head innocently, his nicely shaped lips quirking up slightly to form a handsome smirk. Chanyeol found himself blushing, and no—the lips had nothing to do with it. Not at all.

“Y-You can’t—“ Chanyeol whined, finding his useless entangled legs cursed for easily succumbing to that kiss just now. He shifted his head to the side, trying to avoid a face-to-face confrontation with the strange creature. “I-I’m going to sue you!”

“I thought most products had trial days to offer? Hm?” Yifan simpered devilishly; liking the way Chanyeol’s hands naturally planted themselves against his chest or the way Chanyeol wriggled helplessly like a newborn chick under his gaze.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not for sale?!” Chanyeol spat once more, hoping to get the message across. Of course, it didn’t. Yifan simply tilted his head naively, wondering what in the world Chanyeol was crying about. “Ugh! Wh-Why me anyway?!”

“You’re the one I wanted.”

“I was just in charge of the yard sale, for crying out—wait, what did you say?”

“You’re the one I wanted.” Yifan emphasized every single world in front of Chanyeol’s face that the helpless young man nearly forgot how to breathe. The once whining and highly resistant male suddenly grew silent with a stunned look on his face.

“Uh…?” He croaked, “B-By that… did you mean—d-do you, by any chance, like me?”

Yifan lifted an intrigued eyebrow, leaning closer, practically invading the remaining of Chanyeol’s space, “Well, I don’t buy and take things I don’t like, right?”

Chanyeol’s cheeks flourished once more. Hang on a minute. He thought. I’m feeling all fluttery just after a few words? N-No way! It shouldn’t be like this! “B-But I’m not a thing!” The yard sale owner found some strength in his limbs, retracting them back from Yifan’s hold before stumbling back, hitting his head on the wall. “Ow!”

“Tsk, tsk,” Yifan shook his head, reaching over to feel for any sign of a bump on his new merchandise. “You shouldn’t struggle. I’ve got to take care of you properly, you know? I wouldn’t want you breaking on me so early.”

Chanyeol, frustrated, smashed his teeth together and growled, “I’m not yours!”

Yifan blinked, wide-eyed, as if the whole ordeal finally dawned on him. In front of him was a highly exasperated and highly aggravated Chanyeol, yet the first thing that came out of his mouth was, “So, you mean I’ve just borrowed you from the display?”

The words rang in Chanyeol’s ears like an out of tune piano. He grabbed his patron’s shirt by the collar and shook him while angrily adding, “I said I’m not for sale! I’m not some merchandise you can have for a few trial days or something to borrow! I’m a person—a living, breathing human being that can get angry, hungry, jealous and stressed! I’m someone! I’m Park Chanyeol!”

The younger male panted, heaving out the breaths of frustration he had tried to control as he waited and observed the stranger’s reaction. First, Yifan stared at him before his eyes narrowed, focusing completely onto Chanyeol’s face that for a moment there, Chanyeol felt his heart skip a beat. Next, Yifan’s mouth twitched slightly, revealing a crooked smile. Now, Chanyeol was speechless.

“It’s nice to meet you, Park Chanyeol.” Yifan replied, a winning smile and a victorious twinkle shining in his eyes. “Of course, I had no intention of keeping you as a trial merchandise nor as something to be borrowed from the very beginning.”

Now, Chanyeol was completely speechless.

Yifan lifted a hand up, tracing Chanyeol’s jawline slowly before the tips of his slender fingers landed deftly underneath his chin, tilting it up a centimeter or so for their eyes to meet. “Needless to say, I’m happy that you gave me your feelings out of your own accord—of course, that includes your name too.”

Chanyeol blushed tenfold, like a ripe, overgrown tomato upon hearing what he had just done. Oh, how his naïve, little heart ached. “I—I was just—“

“You’re mine.” Yifan concluded as if it was a fact written on every encyclopedia printed around the world. “I’ve decided on that the moment I saw you.”

“You’re crazy!” Chanyeol cried, but finding himself incredibly giddy to hear this strange creature’s ‘confessions’ about him. “W-We just met, you know?!”

“So?” Came Yifan’s blunt reply and it was like a missile was lodged in Chanyeol’s mouth.

“Uh?” Chanyeol found himself absolutely bedazzled by this man’s sense of existence. Was he for real? Was this some kind of prank? A hidden camera?

“I didn’t take you to be with me temporarily.” Yifan added, noticing his twice-as-confused look. “I took you to be with me. Seriously.”

Chanyeol gulped an empty lump. Now that he heard everything, he had no choice but to believe that this guy was a complete wacko. But what was it? There was something about him that was kind of enticing. Was it the way he looked at him? Or the way his eyes would intensely observe every single reaction on his face? Or the way his lips would curl up to