#thebbhday

   With this in mind, you pass the open-ended divets in the street and continue heading in a straight line. The footpath is crowded. It always is. No matter the time of day, the streets are bustling. Evenings, however, are the worst. People swarm and squirm in desperation. Whether this desperation is to escape home or to escape into the bottom of a bottle, nobody wants to stay out in the bitter cold for long and you're no different.

   Someone curses at you and it isn't until you glance down that you realise you've collided with them. He's an angry little businessman around forty years of age with a pot belly and bad knees that wobble as he stands. You can tell by his cheap suit and tattered briefcase that he's far from successful. The crass language he directs at you doesn't aid his case.

   It's while pointing an accusatory finger in your direction that his briefcase lock snaps and paperwork dumps free of the faux leather knockoff. White sheets rise in the wind, floating just above his combover before taking flight. Courtesy of a sudden gust rolling off the sides of a speeding moving truck, the papers zoom in every direction. Some even enter the alley you had passed, dancing and somersaulting as if on two feet until they're lost to darkness.

   "What have you done, you dumb tart!" The man bellows and the sheer reverberation has you wincing. Had he been any closer and your eardrums may have burst.

   Though the man is loud and wide (with how his arms flail all around in an attempt to collect his papers all while steadily losing his breath, he looks almost like a tomato), the crowd doesn't stop. They weave and some avoid standing on the once-white papers but most people don't even look down.

   In a city this big, no one ever stops.

   Except… the man following you has.

   Just about five feet back he waits for you to start moving again. With his back against a streetlight, he watches your little mishap with a smirk. Cigarette smoke whirls around him. He is a patient man, unlike the seething, little man in front of you. You can't help but stare. He offers you a nod and you stumble backward.

   Despite the harmless vibe he emits, you're not a fool. Many killers have been remembered for their façade of innocence, for baiting women with good looks and a sob story. Your mother, God rest her soul, would roll over in her grave had she heard you entertain the possibility of any goodwill in the mystery man.

   "You cannot trust a man from the streets."

   Your mother always had something to say about everything.

   Ignoring the man panting on the ground with beadlets of sweat forming on his brow, you sidestep him. He calls after you and you can't help but quicken your pace when he tries to grab your wrist. It doesn't surprise you. People in the city are all a little crazy; it comes with the territory. Nightfall only exacerbates the issue.

   Ahead is a crosswalk. The light is turning and there are very few pedestrians left on the road, most having crossed already. Cars idle at each set of lights. Their headlights gleam in hungry anticipation.

   Behind you is an oncoming swarm. Amongst those waiting for the light to once again favour them are the two men. One is boisterous and close to pulling his own hair out while the other is silent. They're both following you now and you can't help but wonder if their motives run parallel.

   Without thinking much of the consequences, you run onto the zebra crossing. Despite the little green man having just turned red, the drivers go mad. There's the screech of brakes. A cacophony of horns scold you. A symphony of anger expands outward from the front lines and soon every car from this light to the next has something to say. Once inside a vehicle, the otherwise lifeless citizens of this nonstop city regain a single emotion: rage.

   "You crazy bitch!"

   "Get out the road, you damn broad!"

   "Fucking moron!"

   A bumper clips the back of your thigh halfway across the road. All those on the side closest to where you had come from have started driving once more, not bothering to wait until you're safely across. Deep down you hope it isn't true but on the surface you can't deny how callous the world is.

   Once across, you glance back at the men. The plumper of the two flips you off, glee rampant in his squinting eyes upon realising the car had hit hard enough to cause a limp. He wipes at his cheese-like cheeks, petting himself down with a handkerchief and huffing in your direction one last time before turning on his heels and forgetting you just as quickly as he had come to know you.

   The other man, however, doesn't move to leave. He watches you with a frown at the forefront of the crowd. Once again stumbling backwards, your mind scrambles to find the best course of action. In a matter of seconds the light will turn and he will be right back on your tail.

   Whipping your head to and fro, your options are limited. There's some small stalls and businesses. None seem safer than being on the street. You are, however, injured and you won't be able to run on your sure-to-be-bruising thigh for long. If you can just manage to shake him, you can get home. Home is best. Home is where you need to be.

   But what if you lead him home, to your safe place?

   What if he finds you all alone in the dark with nowhere left to run?

   Your breath hitches in your throat when your gaze returns to him. In a brief second, you see all you need to see. Brushing his black coat open and reaching into an inner pocket, he pulls out his phone. The phone and whatever call he's making isn't what strikes fear into your heart - it's the shining gleam of silver holstered on his hip.

   A gun.

   As if on autopilot, you bolt. Your body doesn't give you time to slow down or think. There isn't time to decide on a plan, not when the man could take a shot and use the heavy crowd to disappear like mist.

   Pain wells deep in the flesh of your thigh, each step only serving to exacerbate the problem. Winds whips against your face and through your hair. There's a nip in the air and it lingers on your cheeks. The shadows around you elongate and reach for your silhouette. Nightfall is around the corner. You have to find a solution soon.

   Nightlife in the city tends to be quite vicious and you're not equipped to handle those that come alive after dark. Thugs, criminals and assailants of all types prowl the streets once the sun goes down. Despite all the warnings your mother provided, you've fallen prey to one anyway.

   "Men that play in the dark love to devour little girls like you."

   A cold chill jolts down your spine and you tremble, fear building in the pit of your stomach as you look around. The crowds are thinning out, conglomerates of people filing into bars and restaurants in droves. Your breath comes in soft pants and your face is warm despite the rapid drop in temperature since you first started running.

   This part of town is unfamiliar to you.

   Weaving through a large group of blue-collar workers that stink of alcohol and smoke, you cut through an open-air business and come out onto another unfamiliar street.

   It's getting dark. Dusty, dull street lights flicker on and off. There's a gnawing pain in your gut. You haven't eaten in hours. All you've done is run and now you can't get your bearings.

   Dare you say you're lost?

   To your right is a narrow road that summons a sense of déjà vú.

   To your left is a bustling main road that's well-lit.

   Despite the familiarity of the curved brick buildings lining the way, you're not willing to risk travelling the road to your right alone. Not at this time of night. Not in this city. The man is still a concern, but he isn't your only concern. Many predators prowl dark roads like that one. Watching. Waiting.

   When you break free of the side streets and burst onto the main road, your heart sinks. This road, too, is a mystery. None of the establishments are ones you know. The ones closest to you are pitchblack inside with their shutters drawn. There's a clothing store and a bookstore across the street (both of which are also closed) with an emptying café between them.

   café de l'univers.

   You've never been to this part of town and yet you distinctly remember the name.

   A customer exits the building with a to-go cup in tow. Their scarf blows in the wind, the red of the dyed cotton etches into the thickness of the night air and lingers long after they disappear. Upon their departure the café's main lights turn off just as the street light overhead goes dead, plunging you into darkness. A gust of wind brushes past you; it carries whispers of your name and the pattering of footsteps.

   Dull, backup lights illuminate the café. Though it's difficult to make out the faces of the people still inside from this distance and with most of those remaining inside fading into the deep shadows of corners or exiting through a backdoor, you yearn for safety. There are at least five people inside, which is much greater than your measly self and the singular pursuer on your tail.

   "I never understood why your father got involved with that place. Only a fool would go to them for help."

   Perhaps you are a fool, or perhaps he had been as desperate as you are right now.

   Jogging across the street once more without bothering to look for oncoming traffic, you're quick to wrap your hand around the cold door handle and give it a yank. The door, however, doesn't open.

   It is locked.

   Of course it is.

   The café is closing for the night, after all, and you want to scream. Instead you cry and continue to yank on the door, the clanking of the metal lock mechanism doing naught to deter you.

   There is movement inside. A figure is approaching from one of the booths near the back. He is tall and broad and the closer he gets, the further you shrink from his imposing frame. Once in front of the glass door, he gives you a once-over before unlocking it and wedging it open with his foot. He looks beyond you, back where you had come from.

   "I'm sorry, but I nee-"

   "Hurry up and get inside."

   You don't hesitate to scramble through, entering beneath his arm that rests with lazy indifference against the door and hopping over his long leg and the Corthay-clad foot propping it open. Once inside you release a shaky exhale. You didn't realise you had been holding your breath.

   The door closes behind you with a soft thud. A much harsher click follows after the man locks it. Though there isn't much light inside, there's no denying how beautiful the café is. Chrome beams, spotless glass features, and silver detailing form the majority of the room. Complementing the sleek design are blank, pristine white walls. The floor reflects your image back to you with a sparkling gleam just as a still, dark pond in the summer might.

   Turning back to your rescuer mere inches behind you, you're unsure of yourself and of the situation now that your nerves are settling. You don't know what to say to break the silence. Your mind is a mess after the wreck of a day you've had and his emotionless glare isn't offering any help. "Aren't you… closed?"

   "You didn't come for a coffee though, did you? You're scared of that man, aren't you? If not, get out."

   There's an odd, almost proud smirk playing on his lips when he shuffles to the side, breaking the barrier that once shielded you from the ugly truth. The man is there. He is waiting for you right where you had been. When your eyes meet, your blood runs cold. Without thinking, you spring behind your saviour, reclaiming him as your shield.

   It is within this moment you realise just how posh this whole café really is. This man is an employee and yet his suit jacket is like silk. What kind of barista wears a suit to work? Your fingers slide down the material when you peek around him again, taking note of your stalker's retreating form.

   If he's the owner, the business must be booming to afford such fine material. Though it also wouldn't surprise you if they charged ten dollars for a single cup of coffee. It seems like the kind of place where you pay for the experience rather than the goods.

   "Thank you. He has been following me since I left work."

   He sighs and you wonder what his name is, who he is. "Come on, then. Get comfortable. I'll escort you home after I finish up here."

   "What? No! We need the police! He has a gun! A gun!"

   The man just snorts at you and points at a booth near the back, out of view from any window. When you continue to protest, he nudges you toward it. Between his strong push and the lack of grip your shoes have on the polished floor, you lose ground fast. Passing some tables here and there, he soon corrals you into the shadows that surround the back booths. His grip on your shoulder loosens and he gives you one last nudge, using the shallow of your back as his main point of contact.

   Your knees tap into a soft cushion when you take a hesitant step forward into the booth you have been assigned. "Wait here. I'll be back soon. If you want a drink, you might be able to convince Jongin to make you one."

   You perceive him nodding but by the time you look up, he's already walking away. Had the café been as empty as you originally thought it to be, it wouldn't have been a problem. There are, however, a lot more people in here than you are prepared for. Despite the late hour, there's at least ten men inside. Your stomach churns.

   There isn't a single other female in sight.

   All their suits look to cost more than a year's worth of your salary. Glints of light tease your peripheral vision whenever one of the men walk by. Without fail, they each have some form of jewelry gracing their skin. Diamonds.. They shine even in the dark, catching even the faintest of lights and illuminating the men in the glow of wealth.

   After your second yawn and the very real threat of passing out from pure exhaustion, you search for the man named Jongin from the comfort of your seat. The one who let you in hasn't returned from the backroom and a few others that followed also haven't come back. Time is ticking and all you want is to return to the comfort of your home.

   Three men lean against the pitch-black counter of the coffee bar while a man stands behind it, on the side a barista would usually serve drinks from. He is, however, leagues beyond any barista you've ever seen before. Though shorter than the ones loitering near him, he possesses a glare powerful enough to silence them, plunging the room into silence.

   Every single one of them is beautiful.

   Despite the uneasy vibe that floods your mind, all you can think is how effortlessly handsome each man is. Even without smiling or speaking, you're drawn to their presence. People like this only exist in the movies. They don't just happen to run a café in your city, and yet here you are, surrounded by the improbable.

   The black seat cushions of your booth are like memory-foam beneath you. With each shuffle toward the edge, you fall a little deeper into them. Their softness is a trap you don't want to escape - you have half a mind to just give up on getting home tonight and embracing a peaceful slumber inside this expensive café cut straight from a fantasy.

   "And just who do we have here?"

   Your hand sinks further in the plump cushion when you glance back, chasing the sound of the melodious voice. To your right is the final, largest booth in the room. When you first sat down, you had thought it to be empty. While you hadn't been able to see into it through the partitions and dense curtain of shadows, you hadn't sensed anyone within. That had been enough for you to clear it as empty. What hubris. After having caught the man following you earlier, your ego seems to have inflated to the point of feeding a talent that simply doesn't exist.

   "That pride of yours will be the death of you, girl."

   "Cat got your tongue, little lady?"

   Squinting into the deep, dark expanse that cloaks the final booth, you frown. He can see you but you cannot even find his outline. The disadvantage leaves an uneasy feeling in your gut. Whispering a quiet 'excuse me', you continue to slide out of your booth. It's quite the trek considering how large and soft the foam cushions are but soon you're free.

   The group by the coffee bar had dispersed while you were distracted by the mystery man. Upon further inspection, the entire café is empty. Or rather it looks empty, since you cannot trust your own senses to provide an accurate reading. You take a step toward the bar. All the machines appear to be off and the faint aroma of coffee that once lingered in the air is all but gone.

   "The meeting is almost done. Sit with me while you wait."

   "I… wanted to ask Jongin for a drink," you say, once again turning toward the disembodied voice. This time, though, you're able to see him. He's left the comfort of his booth and is leaning against the edge of yours, head resting against the partition that once separated you both.

   "Why Jongin? I can make you one, baby. Would you like that?" You nod, distrusting your own voice to respond after his casual flirting. "But you have to keep me company until Sehun comes back. Deal?"

   "Sehun?"

   "He didn't introduce himself?" The man chuckles before standing tall and brushing imaginary dirt off his suit jacket. "Sehun grabbed the door for you. He's a bleeding heart, that one. But more importantly, I'm Baekhyun. Pleased to meet you."

   Baekhyun extends his hand and, after a quick glance around the room to assess your options, you give him a tentative shake. There's a glint of irritation in his eyes before his expression morphs into a smile. When you try to retract your hand, his grip tightens.

   "What's your name, kitten, or do you only talk when it benefits you?" There's animosity in the words he spits and you want to flee, to escape. Instead your name spills forth from your lips in a whisper, fear tainting the word with a bitter aftertaste. While his features are soft and graceful, his eyes are sinister and cold. He stands before you like a statue cut from diamond, grand and invincible. "That wasn't hard, was it? I mean, I am hosting you in my establishment after hours. I think the least you can do is show me some common decency."

   "I'm sorry," you mumble, trying to free your hand from his strong grasp.

   "It's okay, baby. I'll let it pass this time, but next time I expect some respect, okay?" You nod, averting your gaze. A smile expands across his features. He releases your hand and it falls back to your side limp. Blood starts to circulate back down to your fingertips and it leaves your whole hand numb. You want nothing but to be angry, to slap this stranger until feeling returns to your dangling limb, even if that feeling is just from the sheer pain of lashing out against such an immovable force, but you freeze when your gaze locks with his.

   "Now what would you like to drink?" He's warm now, much warmer than the ice prince that had stood before you mere seconds ago. When he speaks, his voice is like a song you could fall in love to. "I can get you anything you like. Anything."

   Once you recite your usual café order, refraining from testing the limits of his offer, he gestures toward his private booth and you don't waste time slipping inside, not wanting to see his personality flip again. It's much larger than the one you had just occupied. You cannot make out any details, not with how dark it is, but you can smell his cologne lingering the closer you scoot to the center of the circular lounge chair.

   Along your short journey, you slip on the smooth edge of the cushion, sliding down under the table with an unceremonious plop. Heat floods your body and embarrassment overwhelms your already shaken mental state. Tears prick the edges of your eyes.

   The table is large enough to hide you in your entirety as you sit sprawled beneath it. A chill settles in your lower half from extended contact with the cold tiles. Looking around, you see nothing except a sort of blurry, endless dark. While you hadn't broken down enough to bawl, the few drops welling in the corners are enough to provide a sort of out-of-focus filter.

   No light sneaks in from the outside and you cannot tell which direction the small barrier that blocks the café's light is. If you could just nudge it a fraction, a slice of anything that isn't pure darkness would be enough to ease your nerves.

   It's also much, much colder on the ground. So much so it's uncomfortable. You know you should crawl back into the seat and wait for Baekhyun to return. Until Sehun collects you, you're at his mercy and from what you've experienced thus far, he's strict. The kind of strict that reminds you of your late mother.

   You want to hurl.

   "Live on the streets like a dog if you prefer, you ungrateful bit-"

   Pain thrums in the back of your skull after you slam your head against the underside of the table in an attempt to scramble out of the cold darkness. You don't want to stay here any longer. Whether here is just under the table or the café as a whole, you're not quite sure. All the same, you reach out into the dark to find the space between the table's edge and the seat, using the table to pull yourself free of the dark's embrace just as Baekhyun returns.

   There's a click and then a small flame ignites between his fingers, the lighter in his hand gleaming as he picks up a candle from the center of the table. Once lit, the small candle casts a soft glow across the whole booth and you find yourself calming down. Both the cold and the dark flee from its flame but you lean toward it, enraptured by its beauty. It isn't until you feel the cushion beside you depress that you snap free of its entrancement.

   "Here, your drink as promised."

   He slides it in front of you and you thank him not once but thrice, unwilling to make the same mistake twice. Ice clinks inside the plastic cup as you lift it to your lips.

   Cold.

   It's cold but you can't stop yourself from chugging down half the cup at once. Both tired and parched, you relish in its refreshment as it pours down your sore throat. You've never tasted anything like it and you frown, pulling away from the aromatic drink.

   "Extravagance comes at a price the likes of us would never understand."

   Perhaps there are gold flakes inside, or the ingredients are imported from every corner of the Earth. All doubt is, however, washed away alongside a second, smaller gulp: this café doesn't run on aesthetics but rather merit. Extravagance like this comes at a price your paycheck can't justify.

   It's when the cup meets your lips for the third time and the liquid truly quenches your thirst that you realise there's something off with it. Despite having just asked, you can't remember if you had requested it chilled or not, and yet there's a small splinter of ice crunching between your teeth as you chew on the thought. It seems close enough and it tastes delectable so you don't want to complain, even if it's not your usual order, but you're not sure how he could have messed it up.

   It's not even the right flavour.

   "Do you like it?"

   "I love it," you blurt out, taking another gulp to empathise your point. He scrutinises you and you feel small under the intensity of his stare.

   "Interesting. Now, why were you under the table?"

   "I… slipped."

   "Oh? I thought it was your idea of a thank you," he teases, glancing down at his crotch. Your eyes widen and you shift backward. He grins, shaking his head with a click of the tongue. "I'm just messing with you. Now tell me about the man that was following you."

   Baekhyun is like a magnet. You can't help but be attracted to him. The more your story progresses, the stronger his gravity becomes. All the space you created from your prior retreat is long gone by the time you wrap up your tale. As if possessed, you trap his wandering hand on your thigh but not to stop it from travelling any higher. Rather you hold it so he cannot leave, so the warmth of his palm remains on your skin at all times.

   "Does this sort of thing happen a lot around here?" you ask. Caught in his pull, you lean in close enough to taste strawberry bubblegum on his breath. His lips brush against yours as his hand squeezes your thigh, rotating inward and resting cozy between the clenched muscles. You pretend to fight against his touch but you've long been lost to his spell.

   "Women being kidnapped? Oh yes, it happens quite often."

   "Shouldn't I contact the police?"

   Your voice is a meek whisper in comparison to his firm, commanding speech. Baekhyun's tone never falters and his eyes never waver. Needing to break free of his hold, you down the remainder of your drink. It goes down easy and you're grateful of his skills as a barista, though you're starting to doubt that it's what he actually does for a living. Claim as he might that he runs the establishment, it doesn't explain why all the 'baristas' carry such a dangerous aura.

   It doesn't explain why he exudes danger.

   "Why waste your time on them, baby girl? Those types of guys have the police in their pocket."

   "Then what should I do?"

   "If you need protection then you've come to the right place."

   Tilting your chin back toward him, he caresses your cheek with his thumb. Heat blossoms under his touch. There's something swirling in his chocolate eyes but you can't pinpoint it, not when his plush lips meet yours in a deep kiss. His lips are much softer than yours - he didn't spend the evening fleeing a man throughout the windy city, after all. He also moves with a lot more experience than you do and you're quick to become malleable like putty in his hands.

   Dominating the kiss, he holds you firm in place with his vice-like hold on your jaw while his other hand snakes higher up your thigh until he brushes against your clit and you whimper. Your pulse thunders in your ears. It's been awhile since you've been touched in such a way and you can't think straight, all logic and reason abandoned in favour of desire.

   "Whore."

   His tongue chases yours and you're once again aware of how he tastes like strawberry bubblegum. Something as innocent as candy shouldn't leave you in a daze and yet you're intoxicated. Vaguely you realise your right hand is holding your drink still so you discard it with a little too much force and the empty cup rolls off the table into the darkness lurking just beneath the surface. With your left, you comb your fingers through his silky hair. As with everything about him, it's just as soft as it is exquisite.

   When he breaks the kiss, you gulp down stale, warm air. There's no ventilation in the booth, at least to your knowledge. Perhaps during regular hours, but not now, not after dark. It reminds you that you shouldn't be here.

   A gasp breaks free from your agape mouth when his hand slips into your panties, bypassing your skirt altogether, and you feel him smirk against your skin as he presses chaste kisses on your overheating cheeks. He toys with your clit, rubbing faint circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves with his thumb. Electricity jolts down your spine and you tremble, melting under the pleasure.

   "Relax. You're in good hands," he coos, grasping the base of your skull. Guiding you back to him, he devours you again. He's hungrier now, more forceful in his assertion of dominance.

   You give him full control.

   "Whore!"

   With his thumb still working some kind of magic on your clit and his tongue luring you back into a drunk-like daze, he takes the opportunity to slip a finger into your pussy. It shouldn't have been so easy - it's never this easy when you do it on your own - and yet you're soaking him, practically dripping in his palm as he cups your cunt. Another finger slides into your pulsing heat and you moan. He swallows the sound.

   The angle is uncomfortable for him, at least you assume it is, with how his wrist is bent and all. You can't be sure, but you don't want him to be in pain, not when you're in pleasure. Breaking free once more of his addictive taste, you fall backwards onto the plush cushions. Too deep in the feeling, you don't take notice of how close your head was to colliding with the table until you open your eyes and the table is mere inches above you.

   Baekhyun chides you for it, commenting on how you're much too pretty to mar and how he doesn't want you knocking out early, but you ignore him, indulging in how warm his body is now that he's hovering above you. His elbow rests near your ear while he continues to finger-fuck you, a third finger providing a stretch that leaves you quivering beneath him.

   "Tell me, baby, do you want it?"

   "I do, I want it."

   "You want my help, princess? You need me, don't you?"

   "But-" you stammer, your climax fast approaching as he pumps into your soaked cunt faster, harder, "-but at what cost?"

   Your heart palpitates when he says your father's name. It should have destroyed the atmosphere, should've killed your libido, but instead you tumble headfirst toward your orgasm. He doesn't slow down, not even when your cunt is sucking him in on waves of pleasure. Riding your high, he circles your clit dutifully until the sensitivity has you whimpering incoherent babbling beneath him.

   "WHORE!"

   "You dirty, stupid whore! Trollops like you are why your father left!"

   When your senses return to you and your mind clears itself of your post-orgasmic fog, you had half-expected Baekhyun to have started fucking you. But he isn't; he's watching. You can't hold his gaze, not when he looks like the cat who ate the canary. Shame wells in the pit of your stomach and you try to sit upright, try to escape his overbearing presence, but the cage that is his body doesn't budge. He just drinks in your every expression.

   "Well that answers that."

   "What?"

   "You're so easy to read. It's cute, really. I just loved the way your tight, little pussy came all over my fingers at the mention of his name." Lifting his fingers to his mouth one by one, he tastes you, licking each digit clean before running his tongue along his lips. "Talk about daddy issues."

   "How did you know-"

   "I never forget the face of a man who owes me a debt. And you? You look just like him. It's uncanny. Much prettier, though. I prefer you already," he drawls, flashing you a wink.

   "I shouldn't have come here."

   "No, you really shouldn't have."

   Your heartbeat escalates. Dizziness latches onto you as your mind spins, the overload of information too much to handle after the day you've had. All you want to do is sleep and forget the whole ordeal but it just won't end, you just can't escape the misfortune piling onto your already-full plate.

   He doesn't move to stop you when you stand and sidle away from him. It's a circular booth, you remember this despite the dark trying to trick you, and he can't block both sides.

   Bumping the exact spot where the car clipped you hours prior against the soft cushions, you wince. Your legs shake beneath you, wobbly both from your orgasm courtesy of a total stranger and from the dull ache building in the back of your thigh.

   Upon reaching the edge of the table, you practically throw yourself free of him and the shame the thought of him brings. You slam the partition open and exit the booth with an exaggerated gulp, anxiety clawing at your lungs and restricting your breath.

   Light burns your eyes and you take a moment to adjust. There are figures nearby, at least ten of them. By the time your vision clears, you've counted them each several times over. There's eleven. Twelve, if you count Baekhyun. There are twelve men surrounding you in this lavish, over-the-top café after hours.

   If not for the suffocating knot constricting your airway, you would've screamed.

   "Don't worry, princess." You jerk forward when Baekhyun's breath fans across your neck. He chuckles, ghosting his fingers along your arms. "If your daddy won't take care of you, I will."

   "I'm not some whore and I don't belong to you or him!" You shout as you swivel to face him, slapping one of his hands away in the process.

   Discontent to stop there, you raise your arm to strike again.

   There's shuffling behind you, near the coffee bar. Before you even have time to turn, pain erupts deep in your shoulder and your face starts to sting. The sound of Baekhyun's hand colliding with your cheek resonates off every wall, including that of the man now standing behind you.

   Glancing over the shoulder that isn't being yanked taut by an iron-grip, you see Sehun. He has the very arm you had primed for an assault on Baekhyun's cocky face pinned against your back. Indifference oozes from his passive eyes. This time, however, it frightens you.

   Tears pour forth and you cannot control your sobs, not after having kept them under foot the entire evening.

   "Don't bruise her. She's under my protection." Baekhyun's touch is feather light as he wipes away some of the wetness on your cheeks. When he leans in, you fight the urge to bolt. He whispers into the shell of your ear and it tickles, provoking a tremor so fierce your knees buckle under you.

   "And all it's going to cost you is his life for yours. Now that's what I call a deal, princess."

Author’s Note: This… came out of nowhere:D I blame my dear beta @baekshoney​​ – we'd once discussed the idea of Baek being a teenager’s parent (in relation to a different story). Don’t we all love dilf Baek though? lol Anyways, this is a tiny glimpse into his future as a cute af father and husband <3 Let’s name him puppydad!Baek 😊 I hope this lifts your mood a little on a day like this!

On that note – happy birthday to our genius idol (aka mochi-cheeked hyperactive puppy), I wish that he stays healthy and happy and on the radar throughout the next 2 years (and forever)!! Don’t be too sad, guys, he’s hopefully going to finally lead a somewhat normal life for a bit 💞 Ok, I’ll let you get to it already~

A yawn.

You rubbed your tired eyes and dictated a reminder for tomorrow morning to your AI assistant. It was pretty late and you had your hands full all day with your kids. And while family time was always great, there hadn’t been a spare moment for you to tend to your own business. But two decades of dealing with your hyperactive yet loveable children (and husband) taught you to make the most out of what you got. So you were doing just that, organizing your errands and sorting important emails after everyone had scurried off to their rooms, and your husband — to the shower.

Baekhyun was quite exhausted himself, so you realized he must’ve gotten in the common bathroom by the time you exited the one in your bedroom. He did that sometimes when you locked the door out of habit. Not that he couldn’t come in, it was just… You used to scold him pretty badly for breaking into the bathroom. Picking locks wasn’t something you wanted your juniors to acquire as a habit. They had enough of their daddy’s traits as it was.

The thought made you chuckle. Your eldest son had already outgrown his father by at least five and a half – gotta be precise here! – centimeters (which made daddy very proud, but also a teeny tiny bit jealous). Despite his height, which, you were sure, was going to break the golden 180cm in the next few months, your boy’s build was exactly the same as Baekhyun’s. His shoulders were broad, his hips wide, and his waist was naturally narrow. Legs long and lean, and eyes always mischievous. He was eighteen and already seemed more like Baekhyun’s best friend rather than his child. Being both the hyung and the oppa of the household, he was the most mature out of the bunch, and always a big help to his parents.

Your middle child, your precious daughter, resembled you a lot. Her wavy hair and her big eyes with the longest eyelashes either of you’d ever witnessed. Seriously, that was the first thing Baekhyun’s friends had commented on when they came by to meet your new baby. ‘Is this even normal? Can she see through those? That’s one pretty baby!’ She was even prettier now, at her sweet sixteen, cheeks still a bit chubby, which – just as her button nose – were definitely an homage to her dad. Not to mention her hands that were even more delicate and exquisite than his.

The youngest, your six-year-old son, was a blessing. You weren’t planning to have more children after the first two until you suddenly thought… why not? Cannot say that you weren’t a little bit under the influence at the time. It was one of those rare weekends when your kids had a sleepover at their grandparents’, so you had the whole house to yourself. Deciding to have a domestic date and enjoy shameless daytime drinking, you indulged in a whole glass of wine before both of you were tipsy and giggling, then you added one more to the mix. At that point, all kinds of crazy things were brought up.

‘We should do this more often…’ You informed your partner. ‘This is exciting! We can walk around naked the way we used to before we had teenagers in the house!’

‘I miss our naked Saturdays…’ Baekhyun whined, almost spilling his wine while trying to sip it gracefully. ‘Now I barely even see you naked with your shower locking obsession!’

Pursing your lips, you dismissed his complaint.

‘After that incident… You cannot blame me for my caution.’

The incident was, well, your son needing to use the bathroom while his sister was taking too long and heading to the one in your bedroom. He nearly walked in on… an adult scene.

‘He didn’t even see anything, Y/N-ah,’ your husband grumbled, but you waved him off, downing your drink as if it was a shot of tequila rather than a glass of wine.

‘I don’t see a problem though,’ he blinked at you, not following. ‘We’re alone. Why not… See each other naked again?’

‘Right. We can also- Y/N-ah!’

‘What?’ You eyed his suddenly enthusiastic form with nothing but suspicion.

‘We can create a distraction!’

‘Hm?’

‘A distraction for them. So that they’d be busy with something else while we’re away.’

‘Hmm?’ You still couldn’t locate the source of his excitement.

‘Lemme show you,’ he slurred, tugging on your wrist to get you up and dragging you to the bedroom.

Let’s have another baby – that was his brilliant idea. Had you both not been such poor drinkers, one of you would’ve thought this through.

Nevertheless, you were glad that you didn’t. Because your little angel, who could sometimes be more of a tiny demon, to be frank, was the single sweetest thing to ever exist on planet Earth. He had his entire family wrapped around his little finger, and you – most of all. How could anyone blame you? That troublemaker was the spitting image of his dad and had a personality to match — just as playful and affectionate.

The chill spring breeze from the window licked at the bare skin of your arm, causing you to shiver slightly, coming back from the land of reminiscing. You stretched on the bed, noticing how protruding your nipples became from the cold even while hidden by the gentle fabric of your nightgown. Pulling the covers up, you grunted under your breath, wondering what was taking Baekhyun so long.

Just as you did, the door cracked open, and your husband sauntered into the room.

‘Ah finally, I thought I needed to go rescue you again,’ you chuckled.

That had happened before. He once used the common bathroom to shower before bed and ended up captured by your daughter, who was around six or seven at the time, in the hallway. She then demanded cuddles, knowing that her father was too weak to turn his precious girl down and send her back to bed. You found them both huddled up asleep on the couch, with your husband’s head tilted dangerously to the side. Terrible sleeping postures always had consequences, so you spared him the agony of the next morning, waking him up mercifully and helping to get your little girl to her bed. This was only one of many occasions – Baekhyun was a softie.

This time, however, he was a bit stupefied.

He didn’t react to your remark and seemed like he was going on autopilot when he came closer and sat on the bed.

You lifted the covers, inviting him to join you, and he followed your lead, still staring at the wall across the room.

‘Yeobo,’ you called, getting slightly alarmed. ‘Are you okay?’

He blinked, the stupor breaking, and looked at you with astounded eyes.

‘I- I think,’ he began, making you shift to face him properly. ‘I think I just overheard our daughter watching porn!’

His voice lowered to a whisper by the end of that sentence.

‘Oh my god,’ you whispered back. ‘How do you figure?’

‘I was walking down the hallway, and I thought I heard something from her room. I didn’t fully register what it was, but now that it processed… It was definitely porn!’

The signs of distress on his face almost caused you to break down in a fit of laughter. You held it in with all you got. Fathers and daughters, the eternal struggle.

‘First of all, ew. Aren’t you even a little bit ashamed to be eavesdropping on your kids like that?’ You didn’t let him protest. ‘Also, how do you even know it was porn, you know she sometimes mumbles and whimpers in her sleep. Like someone else we know…’

Giving him a pointed look, you leaned over his chest to turn the lights to the lowest mode, leaving the room dimly lit. It was always effective when you wanted to help him relax.

‘I wasn’t ea- And you think I can’t tell what porn sounds like? There are some generic… sounds. That give it away.’

‘When was the last time you watched it?’ You murmured, eyeing him curiously.

Of all people, you knew best how short his attention span was. Sometimes it could work to your advantage. Like right now, when you needed to de-escalate this before you could reason with him.

‘I- wh- I don’t know, probably when you were pregnant,’ he recalled. ‘The third one was somehow the toughest on me. You looked way too attractive for a heavily pregnant lady, let me tell you.’

‘Heavily pregnant??’ You scoffed, softening right after. ‘Well, you have a point, he was pretty huge. I swear, if he doesn’t grow up to be taller than Chanyeol, I’d be offended. That boy’s giant head prolonged my healing by at least a month.’

Baekhyun sighed and looked up at the ceiling, thinking back to that time.

‘He was the only one who caused you to tear, right?’

‘Yeah. Which is weird, considering that he was my third one. Ah well, I guess I’m not getting any younger…’

‘Aren’t you though? I’m constantly being asked about my pretty young wife,’ Baekhyun smiled at you charmingly. ‘And you only became prettier after the third pregnancy. I say it’s the hormones.’

Your cunning little plan was working. He was incredibly easy to distract.

‘Tell me the truth, was it the boobs? Or my butt? I did gain the most weight with the little daredevil, that’s for sure.’

‘It was all of you. You always looked so sexy when pregnant, I just wanted to have you all to myself,’ he cooed at you. ‘To feed you handpicked strawberries. And smother you with kisses. My beautiful young wife.’

At some point during this conversation, you shuffled closer to each other, now cuddled up snugly on the bed. Your finger slowly traced abstract patterns on his chest, happily exploiting the access to his skin where his pajama shirt was unbuttoned.

‘Ah, you’re just saying that to get under my nightgown,’ you batted your eyelashes at him, and he shook his head.

‘Maybe a little, but that’s true. And it’s not surprising that people are noticing – you are younger than me.’

‘A couple of years is nothing at our age,’ you murmured, bending your knee and moving your leg slightly up his to get cozy.

‘Well, you know what people say… Small kids make parents younger. Wanna have another one?’ He nudged you gently and laughed at the dirty look you gave him.

‘Yeobo- please don’t make jokes like this. I’d rather look for other elixirs of youth than go through that entire ordeal again.’

You knew that he was kidding, but the thought made you shiver.

‘I know, honey, I know. Like I said, you’re not in need of any elixirs.’

At this you relaxed, melting into his shoulder, and guiding his arm to wrap around you, warming your exposed shoulders.

‘Well, Mr Byun, same to you. Still as charming as two decades ago.’

‘Hey, I’d like to think that I’m more charming now. The experience and all.’

‘Who helped you gain all that experience though?’ You poked him lightly, and a low chesty laugh escaped his lips.

‘Of course, it was my one and only, my young, and beautiful, and smart and sexy little wife,’ he punctuated each compliment with a chaste kiss to your cheeks, nose, lips, and neck.

You squirmed in his arms.

‘Ah, you make a woman go mad,’ you purred into his lips mockingly.

He snickered softly, ready to lean in, but then stopped abruptly.

‘Wait a second- What about-’

‘Baekhyun…’ You murmured as he fussed on the bed.

‘I should probably go in there, and-’

‘And what? Embarrass your daughter?’ You held him down. ‘She’s sixteen, honey, it’s just the hormones. We’ve both been there. Let her be.’ You nuzzled his neck, pressing your lips to his sensitive skin lazily.

His mind was growing cloudy again since your hand was now caressing his inner thigh foxily. He’d probably realized what you were doing by now, but you were right, so he allowed you to sway him into giving the idea of an immediate intervention up.

‘Besides, I’m sure you wouldn’t be nearly as appalled if that was our eldest,’ you scoffed and added in an exaggerated tone. ‘Never took you for a sexist.’

‘But- he’s eighteen, and she- she’s my little girl…’ He mumbled in a small voice, hazed further by your not-so-subtle seduction. ‘I can’t let her- watch that-’

‘Don’t worry, yeobo,’ you whispered soothingly in his ear, slipping your hand into his loose pants. ‘I’ll talk to her tomorrow. Without you. No need to traumatize the poor girl, that’s how daddy issues develop.’

‘You should know,’ he bit back meekly, sighing when you finally wrapped your fingers around his semi-hard length.

‘The sass! It’s almost like you still got it, Mr Byun. Care to impress that young wife of yours?’

‘I sure will, you cunning woman,’ he growled playfully, completely giving in to it and attacking your laughing mouth as he lifted the covers over your head.

Without even realizing, tears are running down your cheeks in even, salty streams. 

"Why am I even crying…" You mumble and lift your arm to cover your face, trying to make it stop. "God, I'm so pathetic" 

You try to manage to stop your tears, wrist harshly rubbing your eyes. After a minute or so, you succeed in stopping them. 

instead pick up your phone, unlocking it and opening Instagram. 

One peek won't hurt, right…? 

His name at the top of your searches seems to be mocking you as you hover your finger above it. Should you really do it? What if he found someone new and his profile is filled with couple pictures? Or what if he feels nothing and is glad to be alone? What if, what if, what if…

"Fuck it" you hiss and tap on his username, his profile popping up after a brief second of loading the page. 

He… hasn't posted anything for a few months, his last post being from October last year. 

Oh for fucks sake… is this a good sign or not? It could mean he's been seeing someone new, but it could also mean he's just been living his life like usual. 

So many possibilities, yet no resolution seems to be in sight. 

"This is so annoying, oh my gooood" You groan and smack your head into your pillow, laying sprawled out like a star with an annoyed pout on your face. 

"It's been a god damn year," You grumble, "why do I still feel like this?" 

The sound of your fist hitting the mattress of your bed is dull, not the way you wanted it to sound. "I hate this, UGHH" The frustration in your voice is for sure loud and clear, accentuated well by the 'ugh'. 

This whole situation is stressing you out. "I need a shower.." You mumble, absent-minded, as you fling the covers back and swing your legs over the edge of your bed. 

—

Despite the gloomy weather, you decided to take a walk outside. The rain still hasn't let up, droplets of it occasionally hitting your face. 

"Why is it so cold today? It's already spring…" You mumble quietly to yourself, eyes strictly trained on the path in front of your feet and head held low. 

You're so lost in your thoughts, you don't see the person headed your way. 

And apparently, the person doesn't seem to notice you as well. So your shoulders collide and you stumble, umbrella falling out of your hand and fast quick steps to regain your balance. 

"I'm so sorry! Are you al-" The man rushes to apologize, but his words get stuck in his throat as he takes in who he just, quite literally, stumbled into. 

Rain has hit you mercilessly, soaking you from head to toe within seconds as you stand there, paralyzed. "Baek…Baekhyun?" 

His eyes are wide and mouth slightly open in shock as he doesn't know what to say or do. 

He hasn't seen or talked to you in at least nine or ten months for sure. What is he even supposed to say? "Yeah… it's- it's surely been a while" he dumbly answers. "Ah! Your umbrella!" Baekhyun rushes to pick it up and hold it over your figure. 

But the damage is already done. 

You're shivering, dripping with water but still you've a tiny smile on your lips at the sight of him. 

You delicately take hold of the handle, fingers gently enclosing around the man's hand. 

He doesn't move to let go, just standing there and staring into your eyes. "I-" 

You cut him off by mistake with a sneeze, the cold creeping in deep. It feels like your bones might freeze, grasp around both Baekhyun's hand and the handle of your umbrella tightening, muscles contracting to desperately stay warm. "S-Sorry for interrupting you" You say, teeth clattering and eyes averting. 

"No no don't worry about it!" He insists, "but we should get you home, your hand is cold as ice, Y/N" 

"Ah… you're right" You nod and he flashes you a warm smile. 

"Do you still live in the same apartment or did you move?" Baekhyun asks, back to being concerned about your wellbeing now. 

"I- I still live in the same place" You reply, your free hand holding onto your jacket for warmth, but in vain. 

"That's too far away, my place is way closer" He objects and gently pulls you along, "come on, let's get you freshened up before you really get sick" 

You only manage an awkward nod and let him lead you along, a surprisingly pleasant silence engulfing you two. 

—

Baekhyun unlocks the door to his apartment and firstly puts both of your umbrellas away, taking off his wet shoes in the process and you follow along. 

"Come on, I'll show you the bathroom" He says and you tag after him. 

He opens the door, turns on the light and quickly pulls out two towels for you. "You can just use my shampoo, I don't have anything suitable here for you, sor-" 

"Thank you" you break his rambling. "You wouldn't need to do this, so thank you" 

Baekhyun smiles softly, although his eyes tell a different story. "I'll bring you some clothes in a bit, okay?" 

"Mhm" you nod and give him a curt bow before he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. 

You waste no time in stepping out of your soaked clothes and into the shower. 

You set the water to a nice warm temperature and rinse off the cold first, feeling relieved. 

Then there's a knock. "Hey Y/N, I'm putting some clothes on top of the washing machine for you now" he announces before opening the door, doing as he said and then leaving just as quickly as he came. 

"Still the considerate guy he always was…" You mumble with a sad smile, old memories coming back to haunt your mind with sweet images of the two of you. Him always knocking before he'd enter a room you would be in to announce himself. 

You loved that about him, he was always mindful of others and you're happy to see it hasn't changed at all. 

—

You finished quickly and put on the clothes he gave you. Some boxers and a way too big on you, black shirt. You dried your hair as best as you could with the towel he gave you and made sure you don't look like a lion by patting down your hair a bit. 

"Baekhyun?" You timidly call out after opening the door a bit. 

"Yeah?" He replies and you hear his footsteps approach. "What is it?" 

"Uhm- Where to put my wet clothes?" You ask. 

"Oh- Hold on, I'll put them in the washing machine" He says with big eyes and opens the machine for you to put them in. "I'll dry them after they're washed so you can change back, alright?" 

You nod quickly and thank him quietly. He opens the machine and you put your clothes inside, him doing the rest. 

"So, uh-" 

"Do you want some water?" He quickly asks, ears flaring red as he avoids your eyes. 

"Sure" you squeak back and follow him into the kitchen. He gets a glass out of a cupboard and fills it with water before handing it to you. 

You nip at the liquid as Baekhyun leans against the countertop adjacent to you, eyes taking in your figure. 

He missed seeing you in his clothes, you always looked so good in them. He just missed you in general. 

The reason why the two of you broke up a year ago? 

Baekhyun remembers it all too well. 

It was a work related thing actually. The two of you worked in different shifts and barely saw each other, yet alone had time for any couple stuff. 

Free days? Spent alone or arguing about never seeing each other. 

And at one point you had said to just break up. In that moment Baekhyun felt like he was hit by lightning, body stiff and eyes wide. He couldn't believe what he heard. Baekhyun felt anxiety cursing through his veins as his brain processed your words.

You had told him that you wouldn't hate him, but that your situation at that time just didn't allow any dating. The two of you never had hard feelings about the outcome, but it was hard to suddenly go back to being alone. 

And now you're here, in his apartment, wearing his clothes and smelling just like him. He can't believe this is happening. 

"Uhm, so" You speak up after setting the glass down on the other counter behind you. Your hands come up to grab the surface besides your waist and you avoid the man's eyes. 

"Yes?" Baekhyun can't help the hopeful hint in his voice as he urges you to continue your thoughts. 

"How has life been for you?" 

A chuckle escaped his lips at your question, shoulders jumping up and down in the process before he answered. "It's been rather boring but nice, if you get what I mean? I found a different job and work from home now" 

You nod quietly, "I've also found a new job and my shifts are less hectic" 

"Have you… found someone new?" 

You halt at his inquiry, gears in your mind temporarily stopping and he seems to take the lacking answer the wrong way. A frown pulls at his normally friendly and soft expression, making him look grumpy and bothered. "I see" 

"No, no! I- I haven't found anyone!" You quickly say, "I just… I couldn't move on" 

His expression changes to a sad smile, although he's kind of glad you're still somehow his. "Me neither" 

You scoff lightly, a cheeky smirk suddenly on your face. "No wonder, nobody could put up with your annoying ass anyway" 

"Hey!" He exclaims in shock. 

"I'm joking, I'm joking!" You insist, holding your stomach and laughing. "You're bearable most of the time" 

"That doesn't make it any better!" Baekhyun whines and you laugh out loud, hand flying up to cover your mouth. 

"Still the cocky little girl you've always been" He fires back and you snort. 

"Like you're one to talk" You roll your eyes at him and he exhales through his nose. 

His hands grab you by the collar of his shirt you're wearing and unexpectedly pull you into him. You squeal, hands shooting up to brace against his broad chest and you look up to be met by his cocky smile. "You never knew when to stop, no change at all there" he playfully nags. 

"Shut up" You weakly fight back. 

Baekhyun chuckles and you feel the rumble drumming against the palms of your hands. "How come you haven't moved on?" 

You lower your head, hands fumbling with his shirt. "Well… I came to the conclusion that just nobody could replace you. Nobody could love me like you did…" You mumble against his chest and Baekhyun feels a smile creeping up on his face. 

"I felt the same" He whispers back and his arms move to pull you into him more by your waist. 

After hearing that, you look back up at him with big eyes. "Really?" 

He nods and flashes you a bright smile. "Even though we fought a lot and barely had time for each other, I never stopped loving you" 

"Shut up" You almost whimper and move your hands to pull him closer by the back of his neck, lips meeting in the middle. 

Baekhyun's eyes almost fell out of their sockets before he came to his senses. 

One of his hands found its place on the back of your head as he moved his lips against yours with fervor. He greedily breathes you in, not wanting this to end as moves his mouth against yours. 

You shiver when his tongue meets yours and that's when you draw the line… for now. 

He chases after you for a second and you chuckle, dazed eyes meeting yours. "Slow down tiger" you say and peck the corner of his mouth. 

"Okay, okay" He smiles and pulls you in for a hug, "will you let me love you again?" 

“Is one of your favourite characters doing something dumb again?”

Instead of an answer you just groaned again, not facing Baekhyun who entered the living room.

He looked at the tv, seeing that it wasn’t even running at the moment, before he turned back to you, observing what you were doing. “Is it the time of the shark week? Should I get you some hot cocoa or some salty crackers?”

“Noooo”, you whined and turned your head towards him. Your eyes drifted from his questioning gaze to the windows and back.

Baekhyun immediately picked it up and turned towards the window as well, staring at them for a while.

You wondered if he really understood what you meant or if he was searching for something outside the windows. Before you were able to say something though, he turned back to you with a mischievous smirk.

“Looks a little dusty.”

You groaned again and dropped back into the cushions. You were dreading the spring cleaning for weeks now but you couldn’t avoid it any longer and you definitely couldn’t deal with a teasing Baekhyun while doing that.

“Oh come on, it’s just a little wiping and that’s it.”

“And that’s it”, you mockingly repeated and pushed yourself up again. You looked sternly at Baekhyun, a small pout forming on your lips. “It’s way more than that. At first the spider webs have to be removed because I will not come near those windows with my hands as long as they are there. Then a first wash over with clear water is necessary to get all the pollen and only after that the wiping part starts. But that’s still not it. To avoid any stripes it has to be wiped dry too.” You sighed and dropped onto your back now, staring up to the ceiling. “And we have more than just one window.”

“But you’re not the only person living here.”

You raised an eyebrow, questioning him. “So what?”

“So that means you’re not the only one cleaning everything you just mentioned.”

“I only mentioned the windows though.”

Baekhyun shrugged with his shoulders and grinned. “So? We’re still doing it together. It will be fun!”

Another groan left your lips and you rolled your eyes at his enthusiasm, not believing what you just witnessed. How was cleaning fun? How was cleaning supposed to be enjoyable? It was cleaning for god’s sake.

“Come on! Don’t be like that!” He walked over to you and plopped down on you, wriggling his own body to annoy you in a cute way. “Let’s do this together! It will be fun and we will be quick and after that we can do something actually funny.”

You scoffed to suppress a laugh and pushed Baekhyun from you. “Okay, fine, fine! Let’s be quick with this though.”

He grabbed you by your hips and moved you around the house, almost guiding you if it weren’t for the fact that you were the one knowing what you actually needed to clean everything. 

Once you had everything and prepared the water and all the utensils in front of the windows you stopped again. You looked up to the windows with a huge pout, your shoulders feeling heavy and hanging low. “I really don’t wanna do this.”

Your own personal jokester hugged you from behind and kissed your cheek, reassuring you for once instead of being silly again. “The sooner we start the sooner we can finish this again.”

You sighed but nodded, getting ready to start cleaning the windows from the inside, while Baekhyun moved to the outside. He started with wiping the spider webs away, fascinated that there were so many in the first place. 

Baekhyun grinned when he removed the last spider web, seeing the tool covered in webs in his hands. His gaze wandered over to you, seeing a little frown gracing your face. He grinned even wider when he sneaked up to you and held the web covered tool right in front of your face, shouting “wah” into your ear.

You screeched loudly and jumped back, right against Baekhyun’s chest, where you were trapped between his body and that disgusting thing in front of you. “Baekhyun!” You whined and grabbed his wrist to push his hand as far away as possible from you.

“I’m just teasing you.”

“Please don’t?!”

“Can’t promise you that.” He kissed your cheek and moved away again, cleaning his tool and starting to wipe the window with clear water, removing all the dust and dirt. 

You had to admit with his help you finished this task quicker than you had thought. But the looming presence of all the other tasks weighed your euphoria down again. You felt like the list of tasks just didn’t get any smaller.

“So what’s next?” Baekhyun stepped next to you, waiting for a new task. He looked around, making own mental notes of what might need to be done, but he wanted to get your opinion as well.

You were already fascinated that he noticed cleaning the windows wasn’t the only task there is and you were more than grateful he was willing to continue cleaning the house, not giving up yet. Unlike you. You really wanted to give up and just plop down on the couch and do nothing and ignore the dread of cleaning everything else as well.

Baekhyun hugged you again and rubbed your upper arms, silently reassuring you to keep going. It really helped you to stay focused and continue even though your mind still begged you to let it go.

You told him what else there was and he voluntarily picked up the stuff that seemed the most exhausting, leaving you with simpler things. As soon as he started with the next task, Baekhyun began to sing and dance around. You watched him for a moment and noticed how your own mood got lifted and how the corners of your lips twitched and formed a smile.

He was unbelievable and you couldn’t help yourself but to shake your head, before you did your own tasks with a grin. 

Moments like these reminded you of one of the many reasons why you fell in love with him. Baekhyun was one of the few people who could actually motivate you to do stuff - most importantly to do stuff with a smile. 

With the change of your mood and with Baekhyun by your side, spring cleaning didn’t seem so bad anymore. Though you still preferred the moment you could cuddle with Baekhyun on the couch again.

He'd walked into the lecture hall and flung himself into what he'd thought was his usual seat, but he was sitting next to someone he'd never seen before. 

On second thought, perhaps he did know him. Wasn’t it Chanyeol’s friend? Kim Myungsoo?

Speaking of Chanyeol… Baekhyun twists around to check if the rest of his gang was seated somewhere, laughing at him. Yet they were nowhere in sight. Was this even the right hall or had he gotten that wrong too?

"Excuse me." Baekhyun makes an attempt to get Myungsoo’s attention, however he’s too absorbed in his work to notice. Baekhyun tries again with a louder voice and waving a hand in front of him. "Excuse me!"

This time Myungsoo turns towards him, taking out an earbud and giving him a questioning glare.

"Sorry to bother you,” Baekhyun says with an awkward laugh. He runs a hand back through his hair. “Could you tell me which class this is? I think I might be lost." He apologises again. Just to be safe.

The student sighs and pushes his book towards Baekhyun so that he can read the title. Baekhyun rubs his eyes and tries to focus on the words. Oh. His name was Kyungsoo. And Baekhyun was in fact in the correct class.

Maybe today was bunk day, and that's why there weren’t as many students. Or maybe for once Baekhyun had arrived early. 

This morning he'd woken up, noticed his roommate had already left, and hadn't checked the time as he rushed to get to class. He wasn’t even sure what day it was. Was it the third day of May? Or was it still April?

Suddenly, his friends pop up from the benches in front of and behind him. “Happy birthday, Baekhyun!” Oh right. It was May 6. 

They place the ice cream cake before him. Twenty nine candles were arranged haphazardly on it. His face was on the cake.

At least the cake wasn’t on his face. Yet. There’d by cake flying soon if this went anything like the usual birthday celebration. 

However they were still in the lecture hall. Which was equipped with cameras. That were (un)fortunately working. So maybe the caketastrophe wouldn’t happen. For now. It was always possible that they had something else planned for him outside. Maybe he should stake out in the campus until it was safe.

Someone screams. Soda splashes over him and soaks his clothes. 

Kyungsoo hadn’t escaped either and if looks could kill everyone around him would be dead. Especially Chanyeol who was behind the spill. 

It wasn’t entirely his fault since someone had tripped and bumped into him which had sent the cup in his hand flying. But Kyungsoo did not seem to be in the mood to debate technicalities.  

Baekhyun wakes up when the alarm ring ding dongs. 

He checks the time and the day. It was May 6. And he’d be on time to class if he hurries.

But did he really want to be there? His so called friends were waiting for him to arrive so that they could sacrifice him to the birthday demons. Maybe it be wiser to sneak away while he could.

Also how did he forget his friend? Does Kyungsoo already know somehow? Is Baekhyun going to live to see tomorrow?

With these thoughts racing through his head, he runs out the door, straight into Jongdae. Literally. Head banging, air knocked out of his lungs, man on man. Jongdae shoves him off. His sinister smile makes its appearance.

That was Baekhyun’s cue. He doesn’t wait for whatever Jongdae was about to say and tunes out the screeches as he runs for his life.

At one point he realised he was heading towards the campus. Was that the right choice? He’d be found there, for sure, but maybe the cameras would give him the protection he needed until the day ended. Or would it be better to hide somewhere they had less of a chance of finding him?

“I’mma shake it, shake it, shake it, like it was my birthday.” A car comes around the corner blasting a song at an obnoxiously loud volume.

The front window rolls down and Chanyeol pokes his head out. “Get in,” he shouts.

Kai sports his evil grin from the driver’s seat and Sehun lays asleep in the backseat. Which was definitely not safe. At the moment Baekhyun did not have the time or will to point that out.

Of course, Baekhyun doesn’t get in. He sprints into the woods. Which almost seem to appear out of nowhere. Wasn’t there supposed to be a park there?

When he finally stops to catch his breath, there was no sight of his pursuers. Also he was off trail, and very lost. Plus it was getting dark.

He slumps against the tree and slowly slides to the ground. He was going to perish all alone, he thinks as he becomes one with the soil on the ground.

Someone sticks a flashlight in his face. A security guard peers down at him. “Hey! What on earth are you doing here?” It definitely isn’t a judging look he’s giving Baekhyun. “The park is closed for the night.”

Oh. So Baekhyun hadn’t wandered into a forest where the wild would chew him up and spit him out. It was a park like he'd first suspected.

The light was getting awfully bright. Soon all Baekhyun could see was white. He closes his eyes.

When he opens them, he found himself in a laundromat. There was a woman doing aerobics? Zumba? Where was the door?

Baekhyun walks out and finds himself in front of an apartment complex. There’s a group of boys serenading and dancing. He’d take the time to appreciate their performance, especially since they were being nice greeting everyone hello, however he didn’t have time to spare. His friends were after him. Who knew where they’d come from this time?

Somehow Baekhyun wanders into a warehouse. It’s raining inside even though there isn’t a cloud outside. A group is performing some kind of angsty interpretive dance. There’s mud, sweat and rain. One of the guys rips his shirt open and starts laughing diabolically.

It’s definitely time to leave. One of the doors leads to a room where what seems to be a sing/dance off is taking place.

“Tell me your wish. I’m genie for you, boy. Tell me your wish.  I’m genie for your wish. Tell me your wish. I’m genie for your dreams,” the girl group sings.

Meanwhile, the boy group sings, “It’s your birthday. It’s your birthday. It’s your birthday. It’s your birthday. Now make a wish.”

Slightly flustered, Baekhyun contemplates making a wish. Getting the day to end sooner so he doesn’t have to endure this?

The performances are fine- he hasn’t forgotten his friends are still after him though, even if he hasn’t seen them since he run run run himself into the woods. He is currently convinced all of this is a fever dream.

“Cheer up, baby!” A cheerleader cheers. Baekhyun has no idea how he ended up in a gymnasium.

Someone hands him a paper, he signs his autograph and hands it back to them, before he hurries out.

He finished high school years ago, and he did not want to go back to those times.

There was a group of five boys performing outside on the lawn with sprinklers on. Baekhyun was once again felt the temptation to stay.

How much longer until the day ended? He might actually escape this time.

Hands grab him from both sides.

“I don’t think so.”

For some reason, his wanting to match his emotion with my mood made me smile even more.

"It's nothing. It's just something stupid." I said, waving my hand.

"Nothing is stupid." Baekhyun muttered.

Then, without my permission, he grabbed the paper out of my hand.

"Hey-" I tried reaching for it, but he ran up the stairs before I could stop him.

I ran after him but he stopped abruptly, causing me to crash into him.

"Oof." he said, catching me so that he didn't fall.

Up this close, I could smell the lingering smell of his soap and shampoo. It smelt good, like a smell I could inhale all day long without getting bored of it.

I immediately pushed him away, feeling the heat on my cheeks.

"Really?" Baekhyun asked pointing at my exam sheet. "You were upset for these marks?"

I scowled at him.

"I'm not making fun at you. You can be upset. But really, you just lost 2 marks-"

"That's why I am upset! Ugh! Do you know how frustrating it is to lose only 2 marks?"

He shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I definitely have never got this much marks."

I snatched my exam sheet from him and walked away.

I had reached the bottom of the stairs when I heard him call me again.

"Hey Y/N! Wait up!" I stopped and waited as Baekhyun ran down the stairs and came and stood beside me.

"What?" I asked, folding my arms.

"Those marks. That's not what's bothering you."

I narrowed my eyes at him. The way this guy could read my feelings were creeping me out.

"How did you know?" I asked.

"Well, you told me you were scared of failure because you were scared to let down people who trust you. So I'm guessing you feel bad because you are going to upset your parents right?" He asked.

"This level of understanding is really creeping me out Baekhyun." I deadpanned.

"Am I right?"

I sighed and looked at my feet.

"I don't know what to say them. Again."

"Come on." he said, grabbing my hand. "I know what to say to them."

"Are you sure this is going to work?" I asked uncertainly, looking at Baekhyun, who was busy adjusting his fake glasses.

He turned towards me and gave a childlike grin, which caused my stomach to flip.

"Do I look like a nerd?" he asked, still smiling.

I glared at him.

"Isn't that stereotypical?" I asked.

"I think I look adorable in it."

I rolled my eyes so that I didn't have to agree to him.

"Why do you carry fake glasses with you?" I asked.

To my surprise, his pale cheeks turned the lightest shade of pink.

"There's, uh, just someone I, uh, wanna impress." he muttered.

Immediately, I felt jealous. Jealous of the person who could make Baekhyun blush like that.

I knocked on the door and waited for my mother to open the door.

As soon as she did, Baekhyun jumped in front of me and gave my mother a 90 degree bow.

"Hello!" he said cheerfully, causing my mother's expression to change from initial shock to a small smile.

"Hello! Er, who is this?" my mother asked, looking at me uncertainly.

"This is Baekhyun." I said.

"Oh. Uh, why don't you come in?" my mother said, moving aside to let us in.

"So, how was your test today?" she asked.

"Before I could speak, Baekhyun spoke up.

"She did really amazing! The test left everyone crying but Y/N managed to get really good marks. The teacher even praised her!" Baekhyun lied.

My mother smiled at me and I felt myself relax.

"Why don't both of you go and sit in Y/N's room while I get you something to eat?" my mother offered.

"Come on." I muttered to Baekhyun, going upstairs.

I closed the door of my room after Baekhyun and motioned him to sit on of the chairs.

Baekhyun looked around impressed.

"You've got an amazing house." He commented.

"Thanks." I muttered,  embarrassed.  "Both my parents are doctors."

"Oh, is that why they keep pressuring you?" He asked,  frowning.

I gave out a hollow laugh and sat down opposite to him.

"They don't pressurise me. They just want me to do well in life." I said.

"You can do well in life in many other ways too."

I shook my head. "They require too much hard work."

He raised ab eyebrow. "And what you are doing doesn't any? Look you need to fall down to get up. If you go only to the top, you will have only one direction left and that is down. We fall down so that we know how to pick ourselves up. There's nothing wrong in falling down."

I sighed. "What about you? You seem to be working hard to impress someone.  Who is it?"

Baekhyun blushed again.

I couldn't understand why I was getting so worked up about Baekhyun's relationships,  but I was jealous.

"Kim Allison." Baekhyun muttered.

"Allison?" I asked, puzzled. I had never really liked her.

But then again, she was more of Baekhyun's type.

"It's not a crush." Baekhyin said, in a rush. "It's just that she's so nice and pretty and perfect. And she did say she loves hanging out with me." Baekhyun gushed.

"But what's with the glasses?" I asked.

"Er, I overheard her yesterday saying that she liked nerd guys so..Why are you laughing?"

I couldn't help but smile. "Nothing you just remind me of myself. "

"I do? Are you saying that I'm going to become as smart as you?"

I laughed. "I meant you trying to change so that she likes you. "

He looked at me with wide eyes. "Have you- have you liked someone before?"

I rolled my eyes. "Am I that incapable of love? My fear of failure is restricted you know."

"No! I didn't mean in that way. I meant, who was it?"

I shrugged. "My friend, you could say. But I never really got the courage to confess to him. I did a lot to get his attention. But we just remained friends. At the end, he moved away."

"I'm sorry. I hope you can find someone who makes you confident enough to confess."

I smiled at him. 'Yeah, I hope I do."

"By the way, is your sister home?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"You said she had a crush on me right?"

"Baekhyun!"