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Following the Broken Road Back To You (1/4)
Following the Broken Road Back To You
The sky seemed grim the day Baekhyun received news of his father’s accident, hindering him temporarily disabled. It seemed almost ridiculous (in fact, it was ridiculous) that the old man made the extraordinary request to call his son back to the country side. Baekhyun had made plans to request time off from his job as a professional model in order to tend to his father’s needs for a short while, but along with the request to return home, his father also requested that he take over the family business during the recovery process.
Dirt, dirt, mud, and more dirt. Those were the only things circulating Baekhyun’s mind as he packed the night before his departure. Of course, he found nothing wrong with farming. It fed and gave people something to indulge in during times of heartbreak and sadness, but that life was rather off-putting to him. Running a farm, working a tractor, milking cows, and feeding animals weren’t his thing. It just wasn’t, and it was probably for those reasons that he left at the age of twenty-one, moving out to stake a claim on his dreams.
His actions came about with no soft, merciful sacrifices. When Baekhyun left, he left behind his friends, family, and his first love, Park Chanyeol. Chanyeol wasn’t flawless in his nature, but at the time, Baekhyun felt as though he was perfect. It wasn’t easy to move on, and for the first couple of years, he had to mend his heart over the heartbreak. But it was necessary, in his mind, to lose those things for what he considered as the greater good. After a while, Chanyeol and everything else that had to do with the town that he left behind began to fade in the past.
-
-
As he walked up to his parents’ land, the mud from the rain the night before was beginning to chunk their existence at the bottom of Baekhyun’s boots. He cursed, muttering about how they were completely useless. Just beyond the white, two-story house that sat near the cracked road, was everything that Baekhyun was tasked to tend for the next two months during his father’s recovery. Lifting his nose, he could almost smell the animals and tractor oil in the air. It wasn’t pleasant.
He knocked on the door, waiting on the newly renovated porch with his suitcases and cellphone in hand, which, to his anger, could get no signal or bars no matter what he did or who he prayed to. Baekhyun began tapping his foot, wondering why his parents hadn’t set up a new door bell system. In his opinion, it would’ve made his presence known much more loudly than his feeble knuckles making quiet and drowned sounds by hitting the door.
When the door finally opens, he was met by his mother who quickly unlatched the screen door to hug him on the porch. “You’re finally here! Come in. You can take your shoes off, honey. You shouldn’t have worn shoes like those. Combat boots may be fashionable with those city folks, but they’re like mud magnets around here.”
Baekhyun feigned a smile as he pulled away, eager to move away from his mother’s unintentional criticism of his choice in style. “Where’s dad?”
“He’s in the living room with a guest,” she answered, taking hold of one of both of his suitcases. “Come on, now. I made your favorite dish in the kitchen.”
Nodding, Baekhyun proceeded to bend down and unlace his boots, reminding himself to clean it as soon as he could before the mud crusted over. Leaving his shoes outside, he entered the house he had known for so long and was hit with a familiar face.
“Baekhyun!” his father proclaimed, calling him over.
Ignoring the man who sat close to his father, Baekhyun smiled and approached him, giving his old man a decent hug. “Hi, dad. How’s the broken arm and leg?”
“It’s fine,” his father replied, waving him off with his unbroken hand. “The doc said I’d be alright after a while as long as I stay put.”
Knowing that he couldn’t ignore the man forever, Baekhyun sucked up his pride and turned to his ex. “Hi, Chanyeol.”
The stare the latter gave him seemed blank, yet judging, and Baekhyun could feel the inner workings of Chanyeol’s head inspecting every aspect of his appearance, tone, and voice. As they lightly shook hands, Baekhyun couldn’t stop himself from feeling terrified of the emotions that flooded him.
Chanyeol was different.
Seven years ago there was a certain light in his eyes. Though he had always been tall, Chanyeol then was skinnier and fairer in skin. His smile was always present and the way he touched everything had a soft lingering feeling. Now, Chanyeol was no longer the boy Baekhyun had always referred to in his mind. Gone was the boy for it was a man that held his hand.
The smile that always greeted him and the eyes that lit by the very sight of him were gone and faded. Chanyeol’s face was hard, emotionless, and stern-like as though he had no bearing memory of Baekhyun at all. His skin was no longer pale, but slightly sun-kissed by agricultural work. The baby fat and the scrawniness were nonexistent and what sat before the brunette was a brawny man, arms well-built and toned with hands that were calloused from hard work.
It was Chanyeol who pulled away first, removing eye contact as he speared his attention to Mr. Byun who hadn’t sensed the icy chill and spark that occurred moments just prior. “I should get going, sir,” Chanyeol announced, pushing himself up off his seat. “I still need to check on the roof of Junmyeon’s horse stable, and that needs to be fixed quickly. The storm of the season’s coming in and those horses won’t like being drenched.”
“Ah, well you do what you must,” Mr. Byun said considerately as he watched Chanyeol stand.
“Chanyeol, stay for dinner!”
Baekhyun held his breath following his mother’s request for Chanyeol. He glanced at him, but found that he seemed to be ignored by the way Chanyeol paid him no mind in making his decision.
“It’s alright. I’m going out with the boys this evening, but thank you for the offer.” Chanyeol paused for a second, and then he smiled. It was a different type of smile, one that seemed genuine, but lackluster in life.
“Then, I suppose we’ll see you first thing in the morning, then.”
“Sure thing.”
After Chanyeol left, Baekhyun gave a small, feigned laugh, saying, “He looks like he’s doing well.”
“He is doing well,” his father confirmed, nodding. “He helps out here and there. Usually he fixes things for other folks or helps by being a farm hand.”
Compared to Chanyeol, Baekhyun was smaller, frailer, and softer in appearance. It didn’t surprise the brunette that the man worked in labor. In a town such as the one they lived in, there wasn’t much else to do but physical labor anyhow, which Baekhyun hated.
As his mother excused herself to the kitchen, Baekhyun sat down in the seat Chanyeol occupied, mind running as he felt the warmth that the giant left behind. “Has he been helping you?”
“No, but starting tomorrow he will be.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m no fool, Baekhyun. I know you don’t know one tool from another, so I’ve asked for Chanyeol to spare some time to help you around with your tasks for a while until you can carry on your tasks by yourself.”
-
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It was infuriating to Baekhyun how he had to drag his ass across half a country and a muddy road for a job that Chanyeol or anybody in the bloody town could do. He couldn’t understand why they needed him to be there. It was something so far out of reach within his limit of understanding, but Baekhyun bit his tongue back for the rest of the night.
-
-
He was on a diet, but Baekhyun gave himself some leeway the next morning. Although he ate as much as he thought he could without going over his limited calorie count per day, his parents still goaded him to eat more, which irritated him. Physique and appearances were important to him and his profession, and even if his parents couldn’t understand that and he was off the job for a while, Baekhyun couldn’t afford to lose his ground.
“Honey, if you don’t eat, you’re not going to be able do anything.”
Baekhyun appreciated his mother’s concern, but he waved it off, slightly pissed as well.
The alternative shoes he packed for the workload were ones he considered to be accurately proper. They were new work boots bought for a reasonably high price. They were clean with a nice design thoughtfully put in, which made the price much more worth it, but the morning of his first day attempting to learn how to run a farm blew Baekhyun’s fantasies out of the water.
“Those aren’t going to work.”
In that moment, Baekhyun almost wanted to turn around, call a taxi courageous enough to drive to the god forsaken location, and leave. The comment from Chanyeol with the low key negative judgment of his choice in apparel was embarrassing as hell.
“I don’t understand,” Baekhyun said, keeping an even tone. “When I bought these they told me that they’d work just fine for the country.”
“Then maybe you’ve been away for too long,” Chanyeol replied indifferently. They were standing by the barn, meters and meters away from the house, creating a situation in which Baekhyun was determined not to trudge back home through the mud. “Those boots are good, sure, but you’re going to need something higher that’ll cover mid-calf. Yours are only just a few inches above your ankles. It’s not enough.”
Before he could argue any more for his footwear, Chanyeol presented to him a pair of basic, black boots as if he had expected Baekhyun to make the mistake. “I’d change in the barn and leave those in there. You can pick them up later when we take a break at noon.”
Baekhyun almost died at the word. It was only six in the morning which meant he had six hours until their first break. Sucking up his complaints, he nodded. It took no more than a minute for him to grumpily change out of his footwear. For some reason, he felt paranoid about keeping the male waiting thinking it would be rude to do so.
When he came out of the structure, Baekhyun caught Chanyeol’s eyes looking him over the minute he turned around. Nervously, he smiled. “What?”
Expecting a compliment, the brunette was thrown off when Chanyeol asked, “Are those designer jeans?”
Blinking, Baekhyun was momentarily flustered. “Yes…?”
Chanyeol sighed and shook his head. “Next time, find older jeans to wear. Those work, but honey, I don’t think you’ll be too happy when those get ruined beyond repair.”
“It’s after harvest season. What else is there to do, but to tend the animals and trudge around in the mud?”
The expression he received was none too amusing. “There are a lot of things to do in the post-harvest season, Baek. You prepare for the next and you fix things that have broken down and need fixin’.”
“Like what?”
Chanyeol shrugged. “Well, for starters, we’re going to go fix the fencing for the cattle right after we finish feeding the animals.”
Thinking about the task for a moment, Baekhyun thought of it as a petty thing. It couldn’t be that hard to fix a thing or two. A nail here and there would be enough to fix a stupid wired fence that had gone awry in its use.
“Okay,” Baekhyun said confidently, hoping to somewhat keep face in Chanyeol’s doubting presence. “That shouldn’t be too hard.”
There was a small pause before Chanyeol responded, and even then, Baekhyun could tell that it had no commitment to it. “Right…”
-
-
The first animals to be fed were the chickens and it gave Baekhyun the slight hope that feeding the animals was just as easy as he initially thought it’d be. Chanyeol gave him a bucket full of feed and instructed him to scoop it out with his hands and throw it on the ground at various places.
“You’re not going to give me gloves?”
Chanyeol had given him a blank stare. “This job doesn’t require gloves.”
“You know, I hand model sometimes,” Baekhyun had argued. “I don’t want anything that’ll—”
“Believe me,” his ex smoothly interrupted, “I wouldn’t be giving you this job without gloves if it was hazardous to your well-being. I know you’re just here temporarily.”
That shut the brunette up, and once he did, Chanyeol left him alone to grab the things they needed to feed the horses. In his quiet time alone, Baekhyun found the small pleasure of being chased by the chickens, enjoying the attention that they gave him. He, for a moment, felt like a mother hen.
Once the buckets were completely empty, he closed the pen and stood outside, craning his head around to search for Chanyeol. The second he began looking for the giant, Chanyeol finally made an appearance, coming from around a corner driving a dirty and mud-faced truck.
“Come on. Get in so we can get the horses their hay.”
Baekhyun made no response as he hurried to the passenger seat, making squish-like noises as he padded away. He opened the door to the old vehicle and jumped inside. Before he could even put on the seatbelt, Chanyeol tossed him over a new pair of gloves with rubber grips stronger than steel (or so the tag claimed).
“This is the job you’ll need gloves for.”
Glancing at Chanyeol’s hands, Baekhyun asked, “Why aren’t you wearing anything?”
“Because I’m not the model here,” Chanyeol replied.
The latter couldn’t tell whether to take the comment as a genuine concern or a mockery of his profession, so Baekhyun made the judgment to keep quiet. They drove off the Byun’s property and Baekhyun was thrown in a loop.
“Why’re we leaving?” he asked.
“To get hay,” Chanyeol answered curtly. Baekhyun took the answer and left it at that with silence following. However, after a short while, Chanyeol took in a deep breath and explained further on. “Your father buys from Junmyeon who owns land two farms over. Every week or so, he goes and buys a few bales. He says it’s the best, but I think it’s because of proximity since Junmyeon has his own to feed his horse breeding business.”
“Oh, okay,” Baekhyun said softly, moving his attention out the window. “I didn’t know that. I thought dad had his own hay.”
“Used to, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but your family’s land isn’t as big as it used to be. Your dad doesn’t have the land to do that anymore.”
“Things change, I suppose,” Baekhyun said quietly. “Like this truck.”
“What about the truck.”
There was something in Chanyeol’s voice that warned Baekhyun to be careful, but he couldn’t quite understand why, so he continued on.
“I didn’t know my dad bought this old thing. He told me he bought a new truck a few months ago in a phone conversation. When he said new, I thought he really meant new—”
“This isn’t your dad’s.” Chanyeol looked over at him. “It’s mine.”
Baekhyun gaped. “Oh.”
Suddenly, the realization slowly sank in and the truck came back to his memories. When Chanyeol turned eighteen, he had saved enough money to pay for at least half of the used vehicle’s worth since his father promised to meet him halfway if he could manage to do so. Baekhyun had been so happy to share his then-boyfriend’s joy when the giant pulled up at his house. Drawing his eyes to the dashboard, Baekhyun traced his finger on a scratch mark that should’ve been apparent to him the minute he settled in his seat. He would’ve remembered that it was him who made that mark. In the heat of the moment, he had taken Chanyeol’s keys when they fought at nineteen and, in an effort to spite the boy who loved his car dearly, took a key, dragging it across the light gray dashboard, engraving it with his anger.
The front of the truck had the bitter moments Baekhyun remembered, but the back had moments that brought a slight blush to his face. For one, right after the bitter memory of fighting and inflicting damage to Chanyeol’s beloved truck, Baekhyun tried to leave in a dramatic fashion, but was tossed to the back where Chanyeol decided to be the bigger man. Kissing Baekhyun to calm him down was one thing while causing the windows to fog and the truck to rock was another.
Awkwardly, Baekhyun gave a small laugh. “I see, then I guess some things don’t change.”
“Guess not.”
The conversation ended there and reverted back to the business-like atmosphere that existed before, lacking in personal touches and tones.
When they arrived on Junmyeon’s land, Chanyeol parked the truck outside the man’s house. “Stay in here. I have to give Junmyeon the money for the bales.”
Baekhyun did as he was told, sitting quietly in the vehicle as he watched Chanyeol take the money out from the dashboard and carry it to the white, towering house. A man came out that seemed slightly older than they were, but nonetheless, had a friendly air about him that even Baekhyun could tell from behind the glass windows. He also spotted an interesting thing from his isolated cage, and it was the sight of Chanyeol’s smile. For the first time since they’d met again, it was a smile that didn’t seem forced or for appearances sake. A part of Baekhyun felt jealous and a little hurt at the fact that Chanyeol hadn’t graced him with the same pleasure. At least, in his mind, the man could make things less awkward by being friendly. Then again, Baekhyun supposed that their break-up left little to be friendly and kind about.
He drifted off in his thoughts too deeply that when Chanyeol reappeared by his side, Baekhyun jolted, giving a neutral grin, small enough to seem friendly, but not enough to seem personal. “Where off to next?”
“To the back,” Chanyeol said, switching the truck’s gears. “We’re picking up four this week and we’ll put them in the back.” He stopped for a moment before saying, “It’s good that you’re wearing a long sleeved flannel because carrying them won’t do the skin on your arms anything you’ll appreciate.”
“I’ve carried bale before,” Baekhyun replied.
“You always had other guys help you, remember?” his ex countered. “The seasonal workers would always see you struggling so they’d carry it for you. This time, it’ll all be on you because I won’t be helping you on this job.”
Baekhyun scrunched his brows. “Isn’t it your job to help me?”
“Don’t mistake why I’m here,” Chanyeol answered, running a hand through his hair. “I’m here to show you the ropes with how to help your dad. I’m not here to baby you every step of the way.”
“I merely thought it was part of the package.”
“It’s not.”
Chanyeol drove the truck to the gate leading to where Junmyeon kept his bales. Putting the truck on park, Chanyeol then set the order to, “Hop out of the truck and open the gate for me.”
Baekhyun didn’t want to do it at all, but he muttered his agreements and got out. He walked in front of the truck and towards the gates. First, he didn’t know how to open the damn thing. It seemed complicated and he stood there doing nothing except waiting for Chanyeol to tire of his shit and jump in to his rescue. However, when he turned back around to see if the giant was in the process of becoming weary, he saw that Chanyeol had taken to resting his elbow against his car’s window, watching him leisurely with brows raised slightly high enough to irk Baekhyun.
There was something appealing in the way Chanyeol looked that Baekhyun hadn’t noticed before. His simple white shirt and ruffled dark, black hair gave a type of aura that pulled Baekhyun in, but his attitude and personality, which was a complete one-eighty contrast of the man Baekhyun fell in love with years ago, were off-putting enough to keep Baekhyun at bay.
Deciding that trying something would seem better than standing around with nothing done except head cocking in confusion, Baekhyun began pulling at the gate with all his might, but soon found that the iron structure wouldn’t give. He tried digging his heels into the mud, but none of that was helping him. He either looked very pitiful or he wasted too much time because before he could even say anything to push the man away, Chanyeol had set him aside.
“Never mind. Why don’t you go drive the truck in while I open the gate.”
Embarrassed, Baekhyun nodded. “Yeah. That works, too.”
Just as he was about to leave, Chanyeol kept him back, pulling him closer. “Before you go, watch.” Letting the brunette go, Chanyeol reached behind a large iron pole and pulled a rusted, bent latch upwards. Then with one great push, the gates swung open and Chanyeol gave him a look.
“Keep in mind that most gates have latches, even the ones on your dad’s farm.”
“I know that, but—”
“No, you didn’t,” Chanyeol interrupted. “However, now you do.”
Baekhyun wasn’t done defending himself. “The latch’s location was hidden.”
“Of course.”
It was apparent that Chanyeol didn’t buy into the reason, but Baekhyun was forced to let it go as the man raised his brows and pointed at the truck. Sighing, Baekhyun complied, walking to the vehicle and taking control of the wheel. As Chanyeol stood just outside the gates waiting for him to move the truck in, Baekhyun had the murderous idea of running his ex over, but decided against it as it’d be a bad image for him as a celebrity.
Just beyond the gates, he could see the stocks of bale mounted on one another, ready for pick up by anyone willing to pay for their usage. Setting the truck on drive, Baekhyun stepped on the gas pedal too harshly due to his unfamiliarity, he zipped past the gates, but not without damage. With the wheels geared a little bit more on the right, the right side of the truck scrapped the iron gates and Baekhyun withered at the sound of the eerie damage being created.
He managed to get a grip on his control and step abruptly on the brake, but the consequences were ever present as inertia thrusted him forward. Without having put his seatbelt on, he fell forward in a way that he hit his forehead against the wheel. Baekhyun then cursed Chanyeol for not buying a wheel cover, preferably one that was fuzzy, soft, and cushioned.
Groggy for a split moment, Baekhyun paid no mind to Chanyeol’s anger when the driver’s door was pulled open and he was practically yanked out. “What the hell was that!?”
“Why’re you yelling?” Baekhyun responded, pulling away from him.
“Because you just fucking smashed yourself to the steering wheel!”
Laughing, Baekhyun rubbed his forehead. “It wasn’t that bad. I think your truck—”
Baekhyun never finished as Chanyeol, in his effort to leave before exploding anymore, walked to the other side of his car and gaped at the white streak that decorated his car. “Are you—”
“I’m sorry,” Baekhyun quickly said before adding, “I didn’t mean—”
“Why do you always scratch my things!?” Chanyeol said before he could render the words coming out of his mouth. He didn’t seem to catch the personal reference that seeped through as he gripped his hair with a hand.
“I can get that fixed,” Baekhyun offered meekly.
Chanyeol’s chest was heaving in frustration. Baekhyun wanted to back away and get back in the truck, but his legs kept him stalled in the same spot. After a while, his ex finally turned back to him with eyes that were angry, but for some reason, it didn’t seem as though that anger was directly put on Baekhyun because of the damage to the truck.
“It’s fine.” The man’s voice was rough and tempered. Baekhyun was so unused to that tone being that Chanyeol had never used it on him in all the years that they dated. Even when they were fighting, it was usually the giant who held the calmer and defensive side of the argument, never the side that assumed offense. “Don’t worry about it. Thing’s old anyways.”
“Well, still—”
“Forget about it. It’s not important,” Chanyeol dismissed again. “No use worrying about something I won’t even fix.”
“I said I’d fix it.”
“You can’t.”
“What do you mean I can’t? There’s an auto shop in the town over that can—”
“Not everything is worth fixing, alright? So drop it and get back in the truck. We’re wasting time.”
“Why the hell are you so goddamn pissy!?” Baekhyun snapped, fists clenched by his side. “I’m trying to be nice!”
“I said get in the truck,” Chanyeol said, ignoring him as he walked around Baekhyun to get in the driver seat. “We don’t have all day.”
“You’re being ridiculous, Park!” Stomping over to the passenger side, he ripped the door open as hard has as he could and climbed in. Chanyeol made it a point to slam his door and Baekhyun challenged him by slamming his even louder. “You’re mad that I couldn’t drive five feet without damaging this old piece of shit, but I said that I’m sorry, didn’t I? I said I’d fix it for you!”
“Stop talking. I’m not getting paid to listen to you ramble.” Without waiting for the brunette to put on his seatbelt, Chanyeol stepped on the gas and Baekhyun was thrown back against his seat.
“What the fuck happened to you!” Baekhyun yelled once he got his bearings and managed to belt himself. “Why’re you so mean?”
“What’s with your accusations? You haven’t even spent half the day with me, yet. Don’t you think it’s a little too early to judge someone or is this a common practice where you live? Is it?” Chanyeol didn’t even wait for an answer. “People change when life happens. Did you really expect I’d be the same person from high school or something?”
“No, but I at least half expected for you not to be such an asshole,” Baekhyun sardonically replied back.
Chanyeol snorted and said nothing more until they reached the bales. He shut off the engine and didn’t bother to wait for Baekhyun to get out of the truck first before leaving him behind to start walking toward the stock. “Put on your gloves. We’re going back to work.”
Baekhyun made no comment. Ripping off the tags and the paper holding the gloves together, he put on his gloves with an attitude that rubbed Chanyeol the wrong way when the latter hopped out of the truck. Chanyeol waited for a few seconds before rolling his eyes and deciding to take the task head on without the latter’s presence.
Bending his knees, Chanyeol took a bale and heaved it up until he was able to use his shoulder as additional support. “Make yourself at least useful for a second and open the tailgate.”
Muttering under his breath, Baekhyun turned back, unlatching the back of the truck. “Seriously, though. You’re not as mean as some of the people I’ve worked with, but you’re still—”
“Will you—ugh.” Tossing the bale in the back, Chanyeol threw Baekhyun a look. “Stop talking and get over there. It shouldn’t take us this long to get the hay to feed the horses. We should already be—”
“You know I can’t carry those things like you can!”
“Then drag them.” His ex wasn’t taking any excuses. “Can’t you do that.”
It wasn’t a question, more like a rude, mocking remark. “I’ve always had help and I can’t. Not with this body. Plus, I’m already tired and—”
“Tired?” Chanyeol whipped his head around. “You haven’t done a single thing except throw chicken feed on the ground and sit in my truck!”
“I’ve argued with you for half the damn time and—”
“Which is coming out of my pay because of the damn time you’re wasting wondering why I’m not the same person you left behind. In case you didn’t hear me the first time, things change. You probably can’t understand that being what you are right now,” Chanyeol said, gesturing a hand up and down at him. “You’re a superficial, prissy prima donna who thinks the world revolves around your little ass just because your face is on every damn billboard and magazine cover in existence. I’m here wondering what the hell your old man was thinking calling you out here to do work that people like you would raise their nose at and sneer at the thought of doing!”
“If you don’t want to be here right now, Park, then you can go!” Baekhyun snapped. “Go to hell, too! That’s where sons of bitches like you belong, anyway. If my father’s paying you to be here, then why don’t you just do your job without treating me like a fucking enemy. Why can’t you just be nice and civil instead of acting cold and arrogant? Is it that hard? Cause if it is, then you can go.” He pointed to the open road. “There’s a hell of a lot of other guys around these parts that can help me. It doesn’t have to be you. If you need the money, take it. You can take what my father promised to pay you. I don’t give a damn, because I pity you. I pity you because the only reason why you’re irritated and fed up with me is that you’re still a bitter bastard who’s broke as hell without any other income option other than the job my father’s given you. So quit being so—”
“You really think I’m putting up with you because I need the money?” Chanyeol laughed incredulously. “Knock yourself out with that thought. Obviously you haven’t been around to know anything else otherwise.”
“Then what? You’re here because you’re still in love with me or something—”
“I’m here because of your father!” The anger in Chanyeol flared as he started moving towards the bale again, stomping his feet on the earth. Baekhyun followed after. “Like I said, the world doesn’t revolve around you. I’m here because your father needed the help. The money’s secondary.”
“You’re not helping. You’re being an ass!”
“You’re the one who hasn’t done anything!” Chanyeol yelled back. “For the love of god, it’s too early in the damn morning for this. Pick a bale up and shut your mouth.”
“You—”
Taking advantage of Baekhyun’s nearness, Chanyeol reached out, grabbed him by the collar of his flannel and thrusted him in front of him. “Pick one up or I leave you here.”
“You wouldn’t,” Baekhyun sneered. “Not while I’m my father’s son you won’t.”
“Son?” Chanyeol cocked his head and gave an empty grin. “Honey, you barely contact him. I’d hardly call you his son. By blood, maybe, but nothing more than that.”
“How dare you.” Baekhyun’s blood boiled over. Nothing more would’ve pleased him than to sock Chanyeol right up the jaw. It would’ve worked too with their height difference. Chanyeol being six foot one and Baekhyun standing at five foot seven. Doing an upper cut would’ve hurt the man.
Rolling his eyes, Chanyeol turned his back. “I don’t want to fight with you, Baekhyun. I’m not up for it anymore because I’m done arguing. I’ve been done, actually. Just quit bothering me and let me do my job. Then I promise you, once you start getting the hang of how to do things around here, I’ll leave and you won’t see me again. Got it?”
Baekhyun said nothing.
“Good.”
-
-
Baekhyun was given the task of carrying all the equipment to fix the fencing, which meant he trudged along with a large roll of wire and a heavy rusty box full of tools. Chanyeol led the way carrying nothing but a wooden post which he had said that they’d use to replace the old one.
Though the air between them had calmed, Baekhyun hadn’t taken the chance to apologize just yet. He felt awkward just thinking about it, unable to imagine how the words would even come out of his mouth. Silently, he watched Chanyeol from behind as they went about their business.
“So, uh.” Baekhyun stopped himself before stumbling on his words. “What do you, um, want me to do?”
No answer came and Baekhyun didn’t push it. He had already pissed the man off just hours before, but in his defense, it had happened hours before. Chanyeol, in Baekhyun’s mind, should’ve gotten over it. In fact, he was beginning to second guess whether or not he should apologize in the first place when the man in front of him was continuing to act like an ass.
When they arrived at the spot, Baekhyun caught a glimpse of the work ahead of them. It didn’t seem too bad, which was a blessing. A four ft five post had fallen back, pulling with it the wires that were attached to it and its two neighboring posts. The barb wiring needed to be cut and the post needed to be pulled out. All of these were things that Chanyeol already knew.
He set the new post that he had carried on the ground, but Baekhyun kept his own things in arms, afraid the man would bark at him if he wasn’t supposed to set the wiring and box on the ground as well. Walking over to the fallen post, Chanyeol bent over and tested it, pulling it up to see if he could easily carry the thing out of the earth—and he could.
Baekhyun watched as Chanyeol used his strength to yank the old thing out of the ground, tossing it aside as though it was no issue at all. The day had become hot and the brunette could see the beads of sweat beginning to form on Chanyeol’s forehead, but the latter refused to do anything about it. For a moment, Baekhyun wondered if he should’ve brought a water bottle or something for the giant, but he shook his head to himself. It was a silly concern anyhow.
“Hand me the pliers,” Chanyeol said without sparing a glance at Baekhyun. He inspected the wiring, making the decision as to where to cut it.
Fumbling for a second, Baekhyun dropped the loop of wire and opened the tool box. What the hell do pliers look like? He thought he knew being that he grew up with all these things all his life, but he had simply forgotten. However, he couldn’t let Chanyeol know, so he used his common sense and picked out three tools that looked like they could cut something hard. Standing up, he walked over to Chanyeol who was waiting for him with a discerning eye.
“Here.”
It only took a glance for Chanyeol to roll his eyes to the side. “None of those are pliers. Maybe you don’t know what it looks like?”
Baekhyun bit his bottom lip. “I was pretty sure that one of these was…”
His voice drifted off as Chanyeol walked past him and rummaged around the box for what he really needed. When he found it, he walked up to Baekhyun, showing him the tool up front. “This is a plier. Now watch.”
Embarrassment gave Baekhyun a rosy blush as he trudged along behind his ex. When they reached one of the neighboring posts of the fallen one, Chanyeol handed him the pliers. “Cut it but leave just enough for me to twist the loose ends so it won’t mess with the sturdiness of the rest around it.”
Nodding, Baekhyun cut it at the perfect length. Chanyeol said nothing, which meant he was probably satisfied or he thought he could roll with what Baekhyun had given him. Whatever it was, Baekhyun didn’t get a lecture, so he must’ve done something right.
Chanyeol had him repeat the process until the old post was free of its neighbors. He placed the new post in the spot of the old one and used a large hammer to embed it into the ground until it was sturdy. Baekhyun put thick nails into the posts near it. He was confident with his hammer until he accidentally slammed it straight on his thumb. He bit his tongue in an effort to keep himself from yelling out. However, he did wince. When he looked back, he saw that Chanyeol was looking his way, so he made an effort to smile through the pain his throbbing thumb gave him and turned his back again.
The majority of the work was done by Chanyeol, but mostly because of the fact that he was stronger and that he knew what to do. Baekhyun did the side work, but he had to admit Chanyeol’s leading efforts.
As they walked back to the truck, Baekhyun broke the silence. “Thanks…”
“For what.”
“For taking on this job…” There was caution in his voice. “I know you didn’t have to and you knew that you’d be working with me, so it was bound to get awkward as hell.”
“You don’t need to thank me for anything,” Chanyeol replied, unsparingly keeping his back to the brunette behind him. “Like I told you, I’m doing this for your father. Not you.”
Baekhyun pursed his lips, nodding to himself, because what did he expect? Far too much to be hoped for.
-
-
They ate lunch separately. Though they both entered Baekhyun’s house, Chanyeol took to eating outside on the back porch. He had been nice about it, but Baekhyun’s mother was smart enough to see the discomfort between the two, muttering to herself as she made herself busy within the house about how she knew that the entire thing was a bad idea. Baekhyun hadn’t heard her. He ate by himself in the kitchen and spoke to no one.
From where he sat, he could see Chanyeol’s broad back sitting out just beyond the open back door. At first, Baekhyun’s sandwich was gripped. His fingers dug into his food as he replayed the words thrown back and forth in spite. After a while, a feeling of guilt began to surface. But before he could make amends, Chanyeol finished, stood up, and walked back into the house, meeting Baekhyun’s eyes at the dinner table as he walked in front of him to put his plate in the sink.
When Baekhyun gulped the rest of his sandwich down, he gulped down his courage as well. He expected Chanyeol to speak, to tell him what to do after eating, but nothing came out of the man’s mouth. Without sparing the brunette another glance, Chanyeol walked back outside.
-
-
By the time six o’clock dragged by, the sun had turned the sky to a slight shade of orange and Baekhyun couldn’t even stand himself anymore. He was covered in sweat, tired, exhausted, and dead. No job in the modeling world ever made him feel so drained, but he figured that the fact that his legs were burning like Hell on fire was a good thing. If anything, it was burning off the calories that he got from eating that carb-filled sandwich for lunch hours ago.
Chanyeol stopped speaking to him for the most part after their lunch break. It made Baekhyun feel a little guilty, but not enough to own up to any mistakes that might’ve been his.
As the man was pulling off his dirty gloves and tossing them in the back of his truck, Baekhyun sighed and unbuckled himself from the vehicle, sliding out of the passenger side. There was an awful feeling arising from the fact that Chanyeol wouldn’t even look at him, but then he raised his chin, determined to be unaffected.
“So, what’re you doing after this?” Baekhyun asked.
Chanyeol gave him an unamused look before walking around the back of his truck, past Baekhyun, and towards the front of the house. “Why?”
It annoyed the brunette how the tables turned. Shrugging, he grunted, leaving the conversation hanging as he followed Chanyeol back to his parents’ house. He half expected for the door to be held for him or to be offered to enter first, but Chanyeol let that expectation die.
The house was warm, filled with the familiar smell of his mother’s cooking. Baekhyun untied his boots and set them aside, taking notice in the way Chanyeol made no move to remove his.
“Are you boys done?” Baekhyun’s father asked heartily from his seat.
“Yes, sir,” Chanyeol nodded respectfully, lips turned into a soft smile. “We also inspected the water line. It seemed alright.”
It better be alright. Baekhyun was sure as hell he was never going to walk along a two mile pipe checking its status in the hot sun again.
“That’s good news. Ah, Baek.” His father turned his attention to him. “Don’t take off your shoes just yet. Your mother has some last minute errands for you.”
Jaw-dropped, Baekhyun’s shoulders fell. “But I’m tired.”
“Well, your mother needs a few things from the market. Can’t finish dinner without it.” His father reached into his pocket and held out the folded piece of paper. “Run along before it gets too dark. The store closes at eight.”
There was sweat sticking to all parts of his body. Baekhyun had no desire to even move anymore. It was such a displeasure and to go to the store was another pain in his burning ass. He had a good mind to refuse and stomp upstairs to wonder whether or not he should just hire another man to take his place on the farm. It would’ve been easier to do that. Unlike him, whoever he hired would be a lot more capable of working and maintaining an entire lot for a few months.
His fantasies were skewed when Chanyeol took reign, stepping forward to take the piece of paper. He unfolded the list and ran over the items. “Is this all that Auntie needs?”
Appalled by Chanyeol’s implication, Baekhyun’s father frowned. “Yes, but now, Chanyeol, that’s not for you to do.”
“It’s not a problem.”
“Yes, it is, Chanyeol—Baekhyun, where are you going?”
Slipping quietly from behind Chanyeol hadn’t gone as the smaller male thought it would. He stopped in his tracks, just steps away from the stairs. “I’m going to go take a shower.”
“I just asked you to run some errands at the store.”
“Chanyeol said he’d do it.”
Raising his voice to his own child, Mr. Byun pointed at him. “I asked you. Chanyeol’s done more than enough for today for someone who’s looking after you for free.”
Free? Baekhyun’s eyes darted in Chanyeol’s direction, but the man kept his eyes averted, keeping attention to the elder. It came crashing on the brunette the memories of what he had accused the latter of earlier in the day, and a sensation of guilt slipped into his system. Swallowing, he opened his mouth to ask about the matter, but Chanyeol intervened again on his behalf.
“Uncle, it’s fine. Let him off. This won’t be a trouble at all.”
Baekhyun drew his brows together as he watched Chanyeol intently. Why did he lie to cover for him? Probably to make a good appearance. Locking his jaw, Baekhyun turned on his heel and walked to the two men, snagging the paper from Chanyeol’s hand.
“Quit arguing. I’m going already.”
His father seemed pleased judging from the look Baekhyun caught before he turned his back and headed for the door. There was no point in putting on the boots he’d been wearing so he slipped on flip flops. For a moment, he thought he’d make a dramatic exit, but the minute he stepped outside the screen door, he realized he’d forgotten something.
“I need the keys.”
Chanyeol hadn’t moved from his spot, but his attention was fixed on Baekhyun’s flustered self. It took a great deal of effort for the brunette to ignore him.
“The keys to your truck.”
“Truck?” Mr. Byun let out a hearty laugh, and it irked Baekhyun for a reason. “Didn’t you know the truck’s not here right now? If it was, you’d see it on the driveway.”
“What do you mean there’s no truck?”
“I mean, it’s getting fixed in the auto shop,” his father explained calmly. “There was a leakage problem in the tank. I couldn’t have that or else I would’ve just been wasting gas on the road.”
Baekhyun’s jaw began to ache from his teeth gritting against one another. “Then how am I supposed to get to the store!?”
His voice caught Chanyeol’s annoyance. “Baekhyun. Watch your tone.”
A glare was thrown at the taller man, but Baekhyun said nothing to him. He faced his father as he had before. “Am I supposed to walk!?”
“There’s an old bike out in the barn. I suppose you could use that,” his father said genuinely. “Now, it’s the same bike you used in high school, so it may be a little rusty around the edges.”
A cry escaped Baekhyun’s lips. His face must’ve seemed so distraught and desperate that Chanyeol intervened for the third time, stepping over to stand by him. “I’ll take him to the store.”
Baekhyun raised his brows. “Really?” The word slipped out before he could even think, and for once, Chanyeol looked at him when he spoke.
“Chanyeol, I really think that he’d—”
Shaking his head, Chanyeol refused to hear the argument. “Like you said, it’ll be dark soon, and from what I remember, Baekhyun never installed any form of light fixture on it so it won’t be safe for him to come back home if it’s dark.”
The man had a memory Baekhyun couldn’t help but admire. He didn’t even remember the damn bike, let alone the stupid light that he kept forgetting to install when he was younger. Frowning, Baekhyun touched Chanyeol by the bare wrist.
“Just give me your keys and you can stay here. You’ve done enough,” he said in a low voice.
Scoffing, Chanyeol gave him a sarcastic expression, yet he didn’t pull away from the latter’s touch. “After the gate incident, I wouldn’t be doing myself a favor if I do.” Turning away from Baekhyun’s gaping look, Chanyeol gave a nod at the elder sitting in wait. “We’ll be back soon.”
“Chanyeol—”
Both father and son announced his name in unison, but it fell onto deaf ears. With a few strides, Chanyeol was already outside on the porch, stepping off the stairs and walking to his truck. Baekhyun watched him through the screen door, internally screaming in frustration at the man’s stubbornness.
“Of all the people, why did you ask him…”
The question came out softly with no resentment. Instead, it held a tone of brief sadness. Baekhyun’s focused mind was too caught up in the scene to realize.
“Actually, I didn’t. That young man out there heard I was forcing you to come back here for a few months and offered to help.”
Baekhyun became silent. Then, “What does he want in return?”
“Nothing. Didn’t even ask for a penny.”
ii
Pairing: Chanyeol/Baekhyun
Genre: Romance, drama, slice of life
Rating: NC17
Length: 31k
The sky seemed grim the day Baekhyun received news of his father’s accident, hindering him temporarily disabled. It seemed almost ridiculous (in fact, it was ridiculous) that the old man made the extraordinary request to call his son back to the country side. Baekhyun had made plans to request time off from his job as a professional model in order to tend to his father’s needs for a short while, but along with the request to return home, his father also requested that he take over the family business during the recovery process.
Dirt, dirt, mud, and more dirt. Those were the only things circulating Baekhyun’s mind as he packed the night before his departure. Of course, he found nothing wrong with farming. It fed and gave people something to indulge in during times of heartbreak and sadness, but that life was rather off-putting to him. Running a farm, working a tractor, milking cows, and feeding animals weren’t his thing. It just wasn’t, and it was probably for those reasons that he left at the age of twenty-one, moving out to stake a claim on his dreams.
His actions came about with no soft, merciful sacrifices. When Baekhyun left, he left behind his friends, family, and his first love, Park Chanyeol. Chanyeol wasn’t flawless in his nature, but at the time, Baekhyun felt as though he was perfect. It wasn’t easy to move on, and for the first couple of years, he had to mend his heart over the heartbreak. But it was necessary, in his mind, to lose those things for what he considered as the greater good. After a while, Chanyeol and everything else that had to do with the town that he left behind began to fade in the past.
-
-
As he walked up to his parents’ land, the mud from the rain the night before was beginning to chunk their existence at the bottom of Baekhyun’s boots. He cursed, muttering about how they were completely useless. Just beyond the white, two-story house that sat near the cracked road, was everything that Baekhyun was tasked to tend for the next two months during his father’s recovery. Lifting his nose, he could almost smell the animals and tractor oil in the air. It wasn’t pleasant.
He knocked on the door, waiting on the newly renovated porch with his suitcases and cellphone in hand, which, to his anger, could get no signal or bars no matter what he did or who he prayed to. Baekhyun began tapping his foot, wondering why his parents hadn’t set up a new door bell system. In his opinion, it would’ve made his presence known much more loudly than his feeble knuckles making quiet and drowned sounds by hitting the door.
When the door finally opens, he was met by his mother who quickly unlatched the screen door to hug him on the porch. “You’re finally here! Come in. You can take your shoes off, honey. You shouldn’t have worn shoes like those. Combat boots may be fashionable with those city folks, but they’re like mud magnets around here.”
Baekhyun feigned a smile as he pulled away, eager to move away from his mother’s unintentional criticism of his choice in style. “Where’s dad?”
“He’s in the living room with a guest,” she answered, taking hold of one of both of his suitcases. “Come on, now. I made your favorite dish in the kitchen.”
Nodding, Baekhyun proceeded to bend down and unlace his boots, reminding himself to clean it as soon as he could before the mud crusted over. Leaving his shoes outside, he entered the house he had known for so long and was hit with a familiar face.
“Baekhyun!” his father proclaimed, calling him over.
Ignoring the man who sat close to his father, Baekhyun smiled and approached him, giving his old man a decent hug. “Hi, dad. How’s the broken arm and leg?”
“It’s fine,” his father replied, waving him off with his unbroken hand. “The doc said I’d be alright after a while as long as I stay put.”
Knowing that he couldn’t ignore the man forever, Baekhyun sucked up his pride and turned to his ex. “Hi, Chanyeol.”
The stare the latter gave him seemed blank, yet judging, and Baekhyun could feel the inner workings of Chanyeol’s head inspecting every aspect of his appearance, tone, and voice. As they lightly shook hands, Baekhyun couldn’t stop himself from feeling terrified of the emotions that flooded him.
Chanyeol was different.
Seven years ago there was a certain light in his eyes. Though he had always been tall, Chanyeol then was skinnier and fairer in skin. His smile was always present and the way he touched everything had a soft lingering feeling. Now, Chanyeol was no longer the boy Baekhyun had always referred to in his mind. Gone was the boy for it was a man that held his hand.
The smile that always greeted him and the eyes that lit by the very sight of him were gone and faded. Chanyeol’s face was hard, emotionless, and stern-like as though he had no bearing memory of Baekhyun at all. His skin was no longer pale, but slightly sun-kissed by agricultural work. The baby fat and the scrawniness were nonexistent and what sat before the brunette was a brawny man, arms well-built and toned with hands that were calloused from hard work.
It was Chanyeol who pulled away first, removing eye contact as he speared his attention to Mr. Byun who hadn’t sensed the icy chill and spark that occurred moments just prior. “I should get going, sir,” Chanyeol announced, pushing himself up off his seat. “I still need to check on the roof of Junmyeon’s horse stable, and that needs to be fixed quickly. The storm of the season’s coming in and those horses won’t like being drenched.”
“Ah, well you do what you must,” Mr. Byun said considerately as he watched Chanyeol stand.
“Chanyeol, stay for dinner!”
Baekhyun held his breath following his mother’s request for Chanyeol. He glanced at him, but found that he seemed to be ignored by the way Chanyeol paid him no mind in making his decision.
“It’s alright. I’m going out with the boys this evening, but thank you for the offer.” Chanyeol paused for a second, and then he smiled. It was a different type of smile, one that seemed genuine, but lackluster in life.
“Then, I suppose we’ll see you first thing in the morning, then.”
“Sure thing.”
After Chanyeol left, Baekhyun gave a small, feigned laugh, saying, “He looks like he’s doing well.”
“He is doing well,” his father confirmed, nodding. “He helps out here and there. Usually he fixes things for other folks or helps by being a farm hand.”
Compared to Chanyeol, Baekhyun was smaller, frailer, and softer in appearance. It didn’t surprise the brunette that the man worked in labor. In a town such as the one they lived in, there wasn’t much else to do but physical labor anyhow, which Baekhyun hated.
As his mother excused herself to the kitchen, Baekhyun sat down in the seat Chanyeol occupied, mind running as he felt the warmth that the giant left behind. “Has he been helping you?”
“No, but starting tomorrow he will be.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m no fool, Baekhyun. I know you don’t know one tool from another, so I’ve asked for Chanyeol to spare some time to help you around with your tasks for a while until you can carry on your tasks by yourself.”
-
-
It was infuriating to Baekhyun how he had to drag his ass across half a country and a muddy road for a job that Chanyeol or anybody in the bloody town could do. He couldn’t understand why they needed him to be there. It was something so far out of reach within his limit of understanding, but Baekhyun bit his tongue back for the rest of the night.
-
-
He was on a diet, but Baekhyun gave himself some leeway the next morning. Although he ate as much as he thought he could without going over his limited calorie count per day, his parents still goaded him to eat more, which irritated him. Physique and appearances were important to him and his profession, and even if his parents couldn’t understand that and he was off the job for a while, Baekhyun couldn’t afford to lose his ground.
“Honey, if you don’t eat, you’re not going to be able do anything.”
Baekhyun appreciated his mother’s concern, but he waved it off, slightly pissed as well.
The alternative shoes he packed for the workload were ones he considered to be accurately proper. They were new work boots bought for a reasonably high price. They were clean with a nice design thoughtfully put in, which made the price much more worth it, but the morning of his first day attempting to learn how to run a farm blew Baekhyun’s fantasies out of the water.
“Those aren’t going to work.”
In that moment, Baekhyun almost wanted to turn around, call a taxi courageous enough to drive to the god forsaken location, and leave. The comment from Chanyeol with the low key negative judgment of his choice in apparel was embarrassing as hell.
“I don’t understand,” Baekhyun said, keeping an even tone. “When I bought these they told me that they’d work just fine for the country.”
“Then maybe you’ve been away for too long,” Chanyeol replied indifferently. They were standing by the barn, meters and meters away from the house, creating a situation in which Baekhyun was determined not to trudge back home through the mud. “Those boots are good, sure, but you’re going to need something higher that’ll cover mid-calf. Yours are only just a few inches above your ankles. It’s not enough.”
Before he could argue any more for his footwear, Chanyeol presented to him a pair of basic, black boots as if he had expected Baekhyun to make the mistake. “I’d change in the barn and leave those in there. You can pick them up later when we take a break at noon.”
Baekhyun almost died at the word. It was only six in the morning which meant he had six hours until their first break. Sucking up his complaints, he nodded. It took no more than a minute for him to grumpily change out of his footwear. For some reason, he felt paranoid about keeping the male waiting thinking it would be rude to do so.
When he came out of the structure, Baekhyun caught Chanyeol’s eyes looking him over the minute he turned around. Nervously, he smiled. “What?”
Expecting a compliment, the brunette was thrown off when Chanyeol asked, “Are those designer jeans?”
Blinking, Baekhyun was momentarily flustered. “Yes…?”
Chanyeol sighed and shook his head. “Next time, find older jeans to wear. Those work, but honey, I don’t think you’ll be too happy when those get ruined beyond repair.”
“It’s after harvest season. What else is there to do, but to tend the animals and trudge around in the mud?”
The expression he received was none too amusing. “There are a lot of things to do in the post-harvest season, Baek. You prepare for the next and you fix things that have broken down and need fixin’.”
“Like what?”
Chanyeol shrugged. “Well, for starters, we’re going to go fix the fencing for the cattle right after we finish feeding the animals.”
Thinking about the task for a moment, Baekhyun thought of it as a petty thing. It couldn’t be that hard to fix a thing or two. A nail here and there would be enough to fix a stupid wired fence that had gone awry in its use.
“Okay,” Baekhyun said confidently, hoping to somewhat keep face in Chanyeol’s doubting presence. “That shouldn’t be too hard.”
There was a small pause before Chanyeol responded, and even then, Baekhyun could tell that it had no commitment to it. “Right…”
-
-
The first animals to be fed were the chickens and it gave Baekhyun the slight hope that feeding the animals was just as easy as he initially thought it’d be. Chanyeol gave him a bucket full of feed and instructed him to scoop it out with his hands and throw it on the ground at various places.
“You’re not going to give me gloves?”
Chanyeol had given him a blank stare. “This job doesn’t require gloves.”
“You know, I hand model sometimes,” Baekhyun had argued. “I don’t want anything that’ll—”
“Believe me,” his ex smoothly interrupted, “I wouldn’t be giving you this job without gloves if it was hazardous to your well-being. I know you’re just here temporarily.”
That shut the brunette up, and once he did, Chanyeol left him alone to grab the things they needed to feed the horses. In his quiet time alone, Baekhyun found the small pleasure of being chased by the chickens, enjoying the attention that they gave him. He, for a moment, felt like a mother hen.
Once the buckets were completely empty, he closed the pen and stood outside, craning his head around to search for Chanyeol. The second he began looking for the giant, Chanyeol finally made an appearance, coming from around a corner driving a dirty and mud-faced truck.
“Come on. Get in so we can get the horses their hay.”
Baekhyun made no response as he hurried to the passenger seat, making squish-like noises as he padded away. He opened the door to the old vehicle and jumped inside. Before he could even put on the seatbelt, Chanyeol tossed him over a new pair of gloves with rubber grips stronger than steel (or so the tag claimed).
“This is the job you’ll need gloves for.”
Glancing at Chanyeol’s hands, Baekhyun asked, “Why aren’t you wearing anything?”
“Because I’m not the model here,” Chanyeol replied.
The latter couldn’t tell whether to take the comment as a genuine concern or a mockery of his profession, so Baekhyun made the judgment to keep quiet. They drove off the Byun’s property and Baekhyun was thrown in a loop.
“Why’re we leaving?” he asked.
“To get hay,” Chanyeol answered curtly. Baekhyun took the answer and left it at that with silence following. However, after a short while, Chanyeol took in a deep breath and explained further on. “Your father buys from Junmyeon who owns land two farms over. Every week or so, he goes and buys a few bales. He says it’s the best, but I think it’s because of proximity since Junmyeon has his own to feed his horse breeding business.”
“Oh, okay,” Baekhyun said softly, moving his attention out the window. “I didn’t know that. I thought dad had his own hay.”
“Used to, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but your family’s land isn’t as big as it used to be. Your dad doesn’t have the land to do that anymore.”
“Things change, I suppose,” Baekhyun said quietly. “Like this truck.”
“What about the truck.”
There was something in Chanyeol’s voice that warned Baekhyun to be careful, but he couldn’t quite understand why, so he continued on.
“I didn’t know my dad bought this old thing. He told me he bought a new truck a few months ago in a phone conversation. When he said new, I thought he really meant new—”
“This isn’t your dad’s.” Chanyeol looked over at him. “It’s mine.”
Baekhyun gaped. “Oh.”
Suddenly, the realization slowly sank in and the truck came back to his memories. When Chanyeol turned eighteen, he had saved enough money to pay for at least half of the used vehicle’s worth since his father promised to meet him halfway if he could manage to do so. Baekhyun had been so happy to share his then-boyfriend’s joy when the giant pulled up at his house. Drawing his eyes to the dashboard, Baekhyun traced his finger on a scratch mark that should’ve been apparent to him the minute he settled in his seat. He would’ve remembered that it was him who made that mark. In the heat of the moment, he had taken Chanyeol’s keys when they fought at nineteen and, in an effort to spite the boy who loved his car dearly, took a key, dragging it across the light gray dashboard, engraving it with his anger.
The front of the truck had the bitter moments Baekhyun remembered, but the back had moments that brought a slight blush to his face. For one, right after the bitter memory of fighting and inflicting damage to Chanyeol’s beloved truck, Baekhyun tried to leave in a dramatic fashion, but was tossed to the back where Chanyeol decided to be the bigger man. Kissing Baekhyun to calm him down was one thing while causing the windows to fog and the truck to rock was another.
Awkwardly, Baekhyun gave a small laugh. “I see, then I guess some things don’t change.”
“Guess not.”
The conversation ended there and reverted back to the business-like atmosphere that existed before, lacking in personal touches and tones.
When they arrived on Junmyeon’s land, Chanyeol parked the truck outside the man’s house. “Stay in here. I have to give Junmyeon the money for the bales.”
Baekhyun did as he was told, sitting quietly in the vehicle as he watched Chanyeol take the money out from the dashboard and carry it to the white, towering house. A man came out that seemed slightly older than they were, but nonetheless, had a friendly air about him that even Baekhyun could tell from behind the glass windows. He also spotted an interesting thing from his isolated cage, and it was the sight of Chanyeol’s smile. For the first time since they’d met again, it was a smile that didn’t seem forced or for appearances sake. A part of Baekhyun felt jealous and a little hurt at the fact that Chanyeol hadn’t graced him with the same pleasure. At least, in his mind, the man could make things less awkward by being friendly. Then again, Baekhyun supposed that their break-up left little to be friendly and kind about.
He drifted off in his thoughts too deeply that when Chanyeol reappeared by his side, Baekhyun jolted, giving a neutral grin, small enough to seem friendly, but not enough to seem personal. “Where off to next?”
“To the back,” Chanyeol said, switching the truck’s gears. “We’re picking up four this week and we’ll put them in the back.” He stopped for a moment before saying, “It’s good that you’re wearing a long sleeved flannel because carrying them won’t do the skin on your arms anything you’ll appreciate.”
“I’ve carried bale before,” Baekhyun replied.
“You always had other guys help you, remember?” his ex countered. “The seasonal workers would always see you struggling so they’d carry it for you. This time, it’ll all be on you because I won’t be helping you on this job.”
Baekhyun scrunched his brows. “Isn’t it your job to help me?”
“Don’t mistake why I’m here,” Chanyeol answered, running a hand through his hair. “I’m here to show you the ropes with how to help your dad. I’m not here to baby you every step of the way.”
“I merely thought it was part of the package.”
“It’s not.”
Chanyeol drove the truck to the gate leading to where Junmyeon kept his bales. Putting the truck on park, Chanyeol then set the order to, “Hop out of the truck and open the gate for me.”
Baekhyun didn’t want to do it at all, but he muttered his agreements and got out. He walked in front of the truck and towards the gates. First, he didn’t know how to open the damn thing. It seemed complicated and he stood there doing nothing except waiting for Chanyeol to tire of his shit and jump in to his rescue. However, when he turned back around to see if the giant was in the process of becoming weary, he saw that Chanyeol had taken to resting his elbow against his car’s window, watching him leisurely with brows raised slightly high enough to irk Baekhyun.
There was something appealing in the way Chanyeol looked that Baekhyun hadn’t noticed before. His simple white shirt and ruffled dark, black hair gave a type of aura that pulled Baekhyun in, but his attitude and personality, which was a complete one-eighty contrast of the man Baekhyun fell in love with years ago, were off-putting enough to keep Baekhyun at bay.
Deciding that trying something would seem better than standing around with nothing done except head cocking in confusion, Baekhyun began pulling at the gate with all his might, but soon found that the iron structure wouldn’t give. He tried digging his heels into the mud, but none of that was helping him. He either looked very pitiful or he wasted too much time because before he could even say anything to push the man away, Chanyeol had set him aside.
“Never mind. Why don’t you go drive the truck in while I open the gate.”
Embarrassed, Baekhyun nodded. “Yeah. That works, too.”
Just as he was about to leave, Chanyeol kept him back, pulling him closer. “Before you go, watch.” Letting the brunette go, Chanyeol reached behind a large iron pole and pulled a rusted, bent latch upwards. Then with one great push, the gates swung open and Chanyeol gave him a look.
“Keep in mind that most gates have latches, even the ones on your dad’s farm.”
“I know that, but—”
“No, you didn’t,” Chanyeol interrupted. “However, now you do.”
Baekhyun wasn’t done defending himself. “The latch’s location was hidden.”
“Of course.”
It was apparent that Chanyeol didn’t buy into the reason, but Baekhyun was forced to let it go as the man raised his brows and pointed at the truck. Sighing, Baekhyun complied, walking to the vehicle and taking control of the wheel. As Chanyeol stood just outside the gates waiting for him to move the truck in, Baekhyun had the murderous idea of running his ex over, but decided against it as it’d be a bad image for him as a celebrity.
Just beyond the gates, he could see the stocks of bale mounted on one another, ready for pick up by anyone willing to pay for their usage. Setting the truck on drive, Baekhyun stepped on the gas pedal too harshly due to his unfamiliarity, he zipped past the gates, but not without damage. With the wheels geared a little bit more on the right, the right side of the truck scrapped the iron gates and Baekhyun withered at the sound of the eerie damage being created.
He managed to get a grip on his control and step abruptly on the brake, but the consequences were ever present as inertia thrusted him forward. Without having put his seatbelt on, he fell forward in a way that he hit his forehead against the wheel. Baekhyun then cursed Chanyeol for not buying a wheel cover, preferably one that was fuzzy, soft, and cushioned.
Groggy for a split moment, Baekhyun paid no mind to Chanyeol’s anger when the driver’s door was pulled open and he was practically yanked out. “What the hell was that!?”
“Why’re you yelling?” Baekhyun responded, pulling away from him.
“Because you just fucking smashed yourself to the steering wheel!”
Laughing, Baekhyun rubbed his forehead. “It wasn’t that bad. I think your truck—”
Baekhyun never finished as Chanyeol, in his effort to leave before exploding anymore, walked to the other side of his car and gaped at the white streak that decorated his car. “Are you—”
“I’m sorry,” Baekhyun quickly said before adding, “I didn’t mean—”
“Why do you always scratch my things!?” Chanyeol said before he could render the words coming out of his mouth. He didn’t seem to catch the personal reference that seeped through as he gripped his hair with a hand.
“I can get that fixed,” Baekhyun offered meekly.
Chanyeol’s chest was heaving in frustration. Baekhyun wanted to back away and get back in the truck, but his legs kept him stalled in the same spot. After a while, his ex finally turned back to him with eyes that were angry, but for some reason, it didn’t seem as though that anger was directly put on Baekhyun because of the damage to the truck.
“It’s fine.” The man’s voice was rough and tempered. Baekhyun was so unused to that tone being that Chanyeol had never used it on him in all the years that they dated. Even when they were fighting, it was usually the giant who held the calmer and defensive side of the argument, never the side that assumed offense. “Don’t worry about it. Thing’s old anyways.”
“Well, still—”
“Forget about it. It’s not important,” Chanyeol dismissed again. “No use worrying about something I won’t even fix.”
“I said I’d fix it.”
“You can’t.”
“What do you mean I can’t? There’s an auto shop in the town over that can—”
“Not everything is worth fixing, alright? So drop it and get back in the truck. We’re wasting time.”
“Why the hell are you so goddamn pissy!?” Baekhyun snapped, fists clenched by his side. “I’m trying to be nice!”
“I said get in the truck,” Chanyeol said, ignoring him as he walked around Baekhyun to get in the driver seat. “We don’t have all day.”
“You’re being ridiculous, Park!” Stomping over to the passenger side, he ripped the door open as hard has as he could and climbed in. Chanyeol made it a point to slam his door and Baekhyun challenged him by slamming his even louder. “You’re mad that I couldn’t drive five feet without damaging this old piece of shit, but I said that I’m sorry, didn’t I? I said I’d fix it for you!”
“Stop talking. I’m not getting paid to listen to you ramble.” Without waiting for the brunette to put on his seatbelt, Chanyeol stepped on the gas and Baekhyun was thrown back against his seat.
“What the fuck happened to you!” Baekhyun yelled once he got his bearings and managed to belt himself. “Why’re you so mean?”
“What’s with your accusations? You haven’t even spent half the day with me, yet. Don’t you think it’s a little too early to judge someone or is this a common practice where you live? Is it?” Chanyeol didn’t even wait for an answer. “People change when life happens. Did you really expect I’d be the same person from high school or something?”
“No, but I at least half expected for you not to be such an asshole,” Baekhyun sardonically replied back.
Chanyeol snorted and said nothing more until they reached the bales. He shut off the engine and didn’t bother to wait for Baekhyun to get out of the truck first before leaving him behind to start walking toward the stock. “Put on your gloves. We’re going back to work.”
Baekhyun made no comment. Ripping off the tags and the paper holding the gloves together, he put on his gloves with an attitude that rubbed Chanyeol the wrong way when the latter hopped out of the truck. Chanyeol waited for a few seconds before rolling his eyes and deciding to take the task head on without the latter’s presence.
Bending his knees, Chanyeol took a bale and heaved it up until he was able to use his shoulder as additional support. “Make yourself at least useful for a second and open the tailgate.”
Muttering under his breath, Baekhyun turned back, unlatching the back of the truck. “Seriously, though. You’re not as mean as some of the people I’ve worked with, but you’re still—”
“Will you—ugh.” Tossing the bale in the back, Chanyeol threw Baekhyun a look. “Stop talking and get over there. It shouldn’t take us this long to get the hay to feed the horses. We should already be—”
“You know I can’t carry those things like you can!”
“Then drag them.” His ex wasn’t taking any excuses. “Can’t you do that.”
It wasn’t a question, more like a rude, mocking remark. “I’ve always had help and I can’t. Not with this body. Plus, I’m already tired and—”
“Tired?” Chanyeol whipped his head around. “You haven’t done a single thing except throw chicken feed on the ground and sit in my truck!”
“I’ve argued with you for half the damn time and—”
“Which is coming out of my pay because of the damn time you’re wasting wondering why I’m not the same person you left behind. In case you didn’t hear me the first time, things change. You probably can’t understand that being what you are right now,” Chanyeol said, gesturing a hand up and down at him. “You’re a superficial, prissy prima donna who thinks the world revolves around your little ass just because your face is on every damn billboard and magazine cover in existence. I’m here wondering what the hell your old man was thinking calling you out here to do work that people like you would raise their nose at and sneer at the thought of doing!”
“If you don’t want to be here right now, Park, then you can go!” Baekhyun snapped. “Go to hell, too! That’s where sons of bitches like you belong, anyway. If my father’s paying you to be here, then why don’t you just do your job without treating me like a fucking enemy. Why can’t you just be nice and civil instead of acting cold and arrogant? Is it that hard? Cause if it is, then you can go.” He pointed to the open road. “There’s a hell of a lot of other guys around these parts that can help me. It doesn’t have to be you. If you need the money, take it. You can take what my father promised to pay you. I don’t give a damn, because I pity you. I pity you because the only reason why you’re irritated and fed up with me is that you’re still a bitter bastard who’s broke as hell without any other income option other than the job my father’s given you. So quit being so—”
“You really think I’m putting up with you because I need the money?” Chanyeol laughed incredulously. “Knock yourself out with that thought. Obviously you haven’t been around to know anything else otherwise.”
“Then what? You’re here because you’re still in love with me or something—”
“I’m here because of your father!” The anger in Chanyeol flared as he started moving towards the bale again, stomping his feet on the earth. Baekhyun followed after. “Like I said, the world doesn’t revolve around you. I’m here because your father needed the help. The money’s secondary.”
“You’re not helping. You’re being an ass!”
“You’re the one who hasn’t done anything!” Chanyeol yelled back. “For the love of god, it’s too early in the damn morning for this. Pick a bale up and shut your mouth.”
“You—”
Taking advantage of Baekhyun’s nearness, Chanyeol reached out, grabbed him by the collar of his flannel and thrusted him in front of him. “Pick one up or I leave you here.”
“You wouldn’t,” Baekhyun sneered. “Not while I’m my father’s son you won’t.”
“Son?” Chanyeol cocked his head and gave an empty grin. “Honey, you barely contact him. I’d hardly call you his son. By blood, maybe, but nothing more than that.”
“How dare you.” Baekhyun’s blood boiled over. Nothing more would’ve pleased him than to sock Chanyeol right up the jaw. It would’ve worked too with their height difference. Chanyeol being six foot one and Baekhyun standing at five foot seven. Doing an upper cut would’ve hurt the man.
Rolling his eyes, Chanyeol turned his back. “I don’t want to fight with you, Baekhyun. I’m not up for it anymore because I’m done arguing. I’ve been done, actually. Just quit bothering me and let me do my job. Then I promise you, once you start getting the hang of how to do things around here, I’ll leave and you won’t see me again. Got it?”
Baekhyun said nothing.
“Good.”
-
-
Baekhyun was given the task of carrying all the equipment to fix the fencing, which meant he trudged along with a large roll of wire and a heavy rusty box full of tools. Chanyeol led the way carrying nothing but a wooden post which he had said that they’d use to replace the old one.
Though the air between them had calmed, Baekhyun hadn’t taken the chance to apologize just yet. He felt awkward just thinking about it, unable to imagine how the words would even come out of his mouth. Silently, he watched Chanyeol from behind as they went about their business.
“So, uh.” Baekhyun stopped himself before stumbling on his words. “What do you, um, want me to do?”
No answer came and Baekhyun didn’t push it. He had already pissed the man off just hours before, but in his defense, it had happened hours before. Chanyeol, in Baekhyun’s mind, should’ve gotten over it. In fact, he was beginning to second guess whether or not he should apologize in the first place when the man in front of him was continuing to act like an ass.
When they arrived at the spot, Baekhyun caught a glimpse of the work ahead of them. It didn’t seem too bad, which was a blessing. A four ft five post had fallen back, pulling with it the wires that were attached to it and its two neighboring posts. The barb wiring needed to be cut and the post needed to be pulled out. All of these were things that Chanyeol already knew.
He set the new post that he had carried on the ground, but Baekhyun kept his own things in arms, afraid the man would bark at him if he wasn’t supposed to set the wiring and box on the ground as well. Walking over to the fallen post, Chanyeol bent over and tested it, pulling it up to see if he could easily carry the thing out of the earth—and he could.
Baekhyun watched as Chanyeol used his strength to yank the old thing out of the ground, tossing it aside as though it was no issue at all. The day had become hot and the brunette could see the beads of sweat beginning to form on Chanyeol’s forehead, but the latter refused to do anything about it. For a moment, Baekhyun wondered if he should’ve brought a water bottle or something for the giant, but he shook his head to himself. It was a silly concern anyhow.
“Hand me the pliers,” Chanyeol said without sparing a glance at Baekhyun. He inspected the wiring, making the decision as to where to cut it.
Fumbling for a second, Baekhyun dropped the loop of wire and opened the tool box. What the hell do pliers look like? He thought he knew being that he grew up with all these things all his life, but he had simply forgotten. However, he couldn’t let Chanyeol know, so he used his common sense and picked out three tools that looked like they could cut something hard. Standing up, he walked over to Chanyeol who was waiting for him with a discerning eye.
“Here.”
It only took a glance for Chanyeol to roll his eyes to the side. “None of those are pliers. Maybe you don’t know what it looks like?”
Baekhyun bit his bottom lip. “I was pretty sure that one of these was…”
His voice drifted off as Chanyeol walked past him and rummaged around the box for what he really needed. When he found it, he walked up to Baekhyun, showing him the tool up front. “This is a plier. Now watch.”
Embarrassment gave Baekhyun a rosy blush as he trudged along behind his ex. When they reached one of the neighboring posts of the fallen one, Chanyeol handed him the pliers. “Cut it but leave just enough for me to twist the loose ends so it won’t mess with the sturdiness of the rest around it.”
Nodding, Baekhyun cut it at the perfect length. Chanyeol said nothing, which meant he was probably satisfied or he thought he could roll with what Baekhyun had given him. Whatever it was, Baekhyun didn’t get a lecture, so he must’ve done something right.
Chanyeol had him repeat the process until the old post was free of its neighbors. He placed the new post in the spot of the old one and used a large hammer to embed it into the ground until it was sturdy. Baekhyun put thick nails into the posts near it. He was confident with his hammer until he accidentally slammed it straight on his thumb. He bit his tongue in an effort to keep himself from yelling out. However, he did wince. When he looked back, he saw that Chanyeol was looking his way, so he made an effort to smile through the pain his throbbing thumb gave him and turned his back again.
The majority of the work was done by Chanyeol, but mostly because of the fact that he was stronger and that he knew what to do. Baekhyun did the side work, but he had to admit Chanyeol’s leading efforts.
As they walked back to the truck, Baekhyun broke the silence. “Thanks…”
“For what.”
“For taking on this job…” There was caution in his voice. “I know you didn’t have to and you knew that you’d be working with me, so it was bound to get awkward as hell.”
“You don’t need to thank me for anything,” Chanyeol replied, unsparingly keeping his back to the brunette behind him. “Like I told you, I’m doing this for your father. Not you.”
Baekhyun pursed his lips, nodding to himself, because what did he expect? Far too much to be hoped for.
-
-
They ate lunch separately. Though they both entered Baekhyun’s house, Chanyeol took to eating outside on the back porch. He had been nice about it, but Baekhyun’s mother was smart enough to see the discomfort between the two, muttering to herself as she made herself busy within the house about how she knew that the entire thing was a bad idea. Baekhyun hadn’t heard her. He ate by himself in the kitchen and spoke to no one.
From where he sat, he could see Chanyeol’s broad back sitting out just beyond the open back door. At first, Baekhyun’s sandwich was gripped. His fingers dug into his food as he replayed the words thrown back and forth in spite. After a while, a feeling of guilt began to surface. But before he could make amends, Chanyeol finished, stood up, and walked back into the house, meeting Baekhyun’s eyes at the dinner table as he walked in front of him to put his plate in the sink.
When Baekhyun gulped the rest of his sandwich down, he gulped down his courage as well. He expected Chanyeol to speak, to tell him what to do after eating, but nothing came out of the man’s mouth. Without sparing the brunette another glance, Chanyeol walked back outside.
-
-
By the time six o’clock dragged by, the sun had turned the sky to a slight shade of orange and Baekhyun couldn’t even stand himself anymore. He was covered in sweat, tired, exhausted, and dead. No job in the modeling world ever made him feel so drained, but he figured that the fact that his legs were burning like Hell on fire was a good thing. If anything, it was burning off the calories that he got from eating that carb-filled sandwich for lunch hours ago.
Chanyeol stopped speaking to him for the most part after their lunch break. It made Baekhyun feel a little guilty, but not enough to own up to any mistakes that might’ve been his.
As the man was pulling off his dirty gloves and tossing them in the back of his truck, Baekhyun sighed and unbuckled himself from the vehicle, sliding out of the passenger side. There was an awful feeling arising from the fact that Chanyeol wouldn’t even look at him, but then he raised his chin, determined to be unaffected.
“So, what’re you doing after this?” Baekhyun asked.
Chanyeol gave him an unamused look before walking around the back of his truck, past Baekhyun, and towards the front of the house. “Why?”
It annoyed the brunette how the tables turned. Shrugging, he grunted, leaving the conversation hanging as he followed Chanyeol back to his parents’ house. He half expected for the door to be held for him or to be offered to enter first, but Chanyeol let that expectation die.
The house was warm, filled with the familiar smell of his mother’s cooking. Baekhyun untied his boots and set them aside, taking notice in the way Chanyeol made no move to remove his.
“Are you boys done?” Baekhyun’s father asked heartily from his seat.
“Yes, sir,” Chanyeol nodded respectfully, lips turned into a soft smile. “We also inspected the water line. It seemed alright.”
It better be alright. Baekhyun was sure as hell he was never going to walk along a two mile pipe checking its status in the hot sun again.
“That’s good news. Ah, Baek.” His father turned his attention to him. “Don’t take off your shoes just yet. Your mother has some last minute errands for you.”
Jaw-dropped, Baekhyun’s shoulders fell. “But I’m tired.”
“Well, your mother needs a few things from the market. Can’t finish dinner without it.” His father reached into his pocket and held out the folded piece of paper. “Run along before it gets too dark. The store closes at eight.”
There was sweat sticking to all parts of his body. Baekhyun had no desire to even move anymore. It was such a displeasure and to go to the store was another pain in his burning ass. He had a good mind to refuse and stomp upstairs to wonder whether or not he should just hire another man to take his place on the farm. It would’ve been easier to do that. Unlike him, whoever he hired would be a lot more capable of working and maintaining an entire lot for a few months.
His fantasies were skewed when Chanyeol took reign, stepping forward to take the piece of paper. He unfolded the list and ran over the items. “Is this all that Auntie needs?”
Appalled by Chanyeol’s implication, Baekhyun’s father frowned. “Yes, but now, Chanyeol, that’s not for you to do.”
“It’s not a problem.”
“Yes, it is, Chanyeol—Baekhyun, where are you going?”
Slipping quietly from behind Chanyeol hadn’t gone as the smaller male thought it would. He stopped in his tracks, just steps away from the stairs. “I’m going to go take a shower.”
“I just asked you to run some errands at the store.”
“Chanyeol said he’d do it.”
Raising his voice to his own child, Mr. Byun pointed at him. “I asked you. Chanyeol’s done more than enough for today for someone who’s looking after you for free.”
Free? Baekhyun’s eyes darted in Chanyeol’s direction, but the man kept his eyes averted, keeping attention to the elder. It came crashing on the brunette the memories of what he had accused the latter of earlier in the day, and a sensation of guilt slipped into his system. Swallowing, he opened his mouth to ask about the matter, but Chanyeol intervened again on his behalf.
“Uncle, it’s fine. Let him off. This won’t be a trouble at all.”
Baekhyun drew his brows together as he watched Chanyeol intently. Why did he lie to cover for him? Probably to make a good appearance. Locking his jaw, Baekhyun turned on his heel and walked to the two men, snagging the paper from Chanyeol’s hand.
“Quit arguing. I’m going already.”
His father seemed pleased judging from the look Baekhyun caught before he turned his back and headed for the door. There was no point in putting on the boots he’d been wearing so he slipped on flip flops. For a moment, he thought he’d make a dramatic exit, but the minute he stepped outside the screen door, he realized he’d forgotten something.
“I need the keys.”
Chanyeol hadn’t moved from his spot, but his attention was fixed on Baekhyun’s flustered self. It took a great deal of effort for the brunette to ignore him.
“The keys to your truck.”
“Truck?” Mr. Byun let out a hearty laugh, and it irked Baekhyun for a reason. “Didn’t you know the truck’s not here right now? If it was, you’d see it on the driveway.”
“What do you mean there’s no truck?”
“I mean, it’s getting fixed in the auto shop,” his father explained calmly. “There was a leakage problem in the tank. I couldn’t have that or else I would’ve just been wasting gas on the road.”
Baekhyun’s jaw began to ache from his teeth gritting against one another. “Then how am I supposed to get to the store!?”
His voice caught Chanyeol’s annoyance. “Baekhyun. Watch your tone.”
A glare was thrown at the taller man, but Baekhyun said nothing to him. He faced his father as he had before. “Am I supposed to walk!?”
“There’s an old bike out in the barn. I suppose you could use that,” his father said genuinely. “Now, it’s the same bike you used in high school, so it may be a little rusty around the edges.”
A cry escaped Baekhyun’s lips. His face must’ve seemed so distraught and desperate that Chanyeol intervened for the third time, stepping over to stand by him. “I’ll take him to the store.”
Baekhyun raised his brows. “Really?” The word slipped out before he could even think, and for once, Chanyeol looked at him when he spoke.
“Chanyeol, I really think that he’d—”
Shaking his head, Chanyeol refused to hear the argument. “Like you said, it’ll be dark soon, and from what I remember, Baekhyun never installed any form of light fixture on it so it won’t be safe for him to come back home if it’s dark.”
The man had a memory Baekhyun couldn’t help but admire. He didn’t even remember the damn bike, let alone the stupid light that he kept forgetting to install when he was younger. Frowning, Baekhyun touched Chanyeol by the bare wrist.
“Just give me your keys and you can stay here. You’ve done enough,” he said in a low voice.
Scoffing, Chanyeol gave him a sarcastic expression, yet he didn’t pull away from the latter’s touch. “After the gate incident, I wouldn’t be doing myself a favor if I do.” Turning away from Baekhyun’s gaping look, Chanyeol gave a nod at the elder sitting in wait. “We’ll be back soon.”
“Chanyeol—”
Both father and son announced his name in unison, but it fell onto deaf ears. With a few strides, Chanyeol was already outside on the porch, stepping off the stairs and walking to his truck. Baekhyun watched him through the screen door, internally screaming in frustration at the man’s stubbornness.
“Of all the people, why did you ask him…”
The question came out softly with no resentment. Instead, it held a tone of brief sadness. Baekhyun’s focused mind was too caught up in the scene to realize.
“Actually, I didn’t. That young man out there heard I was forcing you to come back here for a few months and offered to help.”
Baekhyun became silent. Then, “What does he want in return?”
“Nothing. Didn’t even ask for a penny.”
ii