![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fic advent: day seventeen
for grace ♥
chanyeol/baekhyun
pg, 1.5k words
au. "one of them makes a living acting in informercials, the other is his #1 fan who ends up ordering dubious products"
chanyeol/baekhyun
pg, 1.5k words
au. "one of them makes a living acting in informercials, the other is his #1 fan who ends up ordering dubious products"
Well, it's not like Chanyeol watches those late night infomercials on purpose. It's more that he likes to put the TV on for background noise while he studies (the silence unnerves him). And then when he wakes up in the middle of the night, wiping the drool off his face and his textbooks, they just happen to be playing. So Chanyeol gets familiar with them.
There's the one with the guy who's always shouting about how exciting his cleaning products are. He's usually the one that wakes Chanyeol up with a start. He appreciates the enthusiasm, of course, but sometimes it startles him right off the couch, and the last time that happened, his face hit his coffee table and he nearly chipped a tooth. Luckily, his laptop remained unharmed.
There are a few others that repeat, with blandly pretty women who demonstrate swimsuits with charming smiles on their faces. Those ones, though, they're not his favourite. Chanyeol's favourite is the guy who handles the beauty segment every night. If he's honest, when three thirty am rolls around, Chanyeol finds himself sliding his textbooks away in favour of sprawling out and watching him.
His name, according to the screen, is Byun Baekhyun. He's small, fine-boned, with bright eyes and an easy, entrancing smile. Even if Chanyeol knows the lines he's trading with the female host must be scripted and rehearsed, Baekhyun delivers them with a charming ease, his delicate fingers landing on her arm as he laughs at a not-so-funny joke. Chanyeol sighs.
A pillow collides with his head and Chanyeol squawks. “Again?” Kyungsoo asks, yawning and rubbing at his eyes sleepily. His oversized sleep shirt hangs off one shoulder, and condensation drips off the glass of water in his hand. “You're in love with that guy, I swear.”
“Am not,” Chanyeol argues. He tucks the pillow under his chin and tries not to let his eyes sneak back to the TV screen. Baekhyun is demonstrating some kind of bracelet and he just has the nicest hands –
“Did you just sigh dreamily?” His gaze snaps back to Kyungsoo. He's got a hand over his eyes, but Chanyeol can see the disbelieving smile on his lips. “I'm going back to bed. Don't stay up too late watching the love of your life, you have an early class tomorrow.”
Chanyeol groans and buries his face in his hands, flopping back on the couch. “He's not – ” Kyungsoo's door closing signals the end of that conversation, and Chanyeol sighs. He's not in love, he isn't! It's just –
On the television screen, Baekhyun laughs, and Chanyeol's heart does a bit of a flip-flop. Oh no.
-
“What's this?” Kyungsoo asks, holding up the package that the mailman dropped off. He shakes it a little and frowns. “It says it's from the – ”
“Nothing,” Chanyeol says quickly, snatching it out of his roommate's hands and hugging it to his chest. “It's nothing. Just something I ordered online.” He can feel the flush spreading across his cheeks, giving the lie to his words.
Kyungsoo looks up at him, amusement in his big eyes, pulling his lips tight to hold back the grin threatening to spread across his face. “Chanyeol,” he says carefully. “Did you order something from that channel?”
“No,” Chanyeol says miserably, and Kyungsoo snorts.
Even when Chanyeol tries to escape to the kitchen, Kyungsoo follows after him. They both end up at the table, Kyungsoo watching him with his chin propped up in one hand. “This is silly,” he tells Chanyeol.
There isn't a chance in hell that Chanyeol is going to open this box up in front of Kyungsoo, not now. He's not even sure what compelled him to pick up his phone, and now he's stuck with an over-priced, gaudy piece of jewelry. “It was a present for my mom?” he tries. Kyungsoo just stares at him, eyebrows raised, until Chanyeol wilts. “Shut up.”
“Your dream man sells fashion items on late night television,” Kyungsoo grins.
“I just think he's very good at what he does!” Chanyeol protests, but it's weak, and they both know it. “...and maybe I think he's kind of cute.”
“I knew it.” Kyungsoo beams at him victoriously. He climbs to his feet and rubs his knuckles against the top of Chanyeol's head. Chanyeol yelps and grimaces. “You're totally lost,” Kyungsoo tells him.
Chanyeol turns the package over in his hands. What is he going to do with this? “Not true,” he says, but he feels a little bit hopeless when Kyungsoo laughs.
-
It's starting to become a problem, Chanyeol thinks. He sits on his bed and stares mournfully at the stack of boxes, filled with useless junk. He hasn't even opened half of them, and they're just collecting dust on top of his desk, and if he's honest with himself, it doesn't make him any closer to his ridiculous crush. Maybe it's too much studying. Maybe he's spending so much time with his nose in his books, and that's why he's nursing such a silly fixation on a pretty guy who sells useless fashion items. That has to be it.
There's only one way to solve this, of course. Decisively, Chanyeol climbs to his feet, grabs a jacket, and marches out the door. Time for some fresh air!
It's cold out, and drizzling. Chanyeol really does his best not to let it dampen his spirits. By the time he's made it to the store, his curls are slicked down against his head, and no matter how much he pushes at them, they just kind of stick to his forehead. No matter, he thinks. He can get some grocery shopping done, Kyungsoo will be so pleasantly surprised that he quits giving him shit, and all will be well.
He's on his way to the register when he slips on the linoleum, wet from traffic from outside. His feet go sliding out from underneath him and he throws his long arms out, his hand colliding with someone else as he goes down hard. Sprawled out on the floor, his basketful of food spread everywhere, it's pretty embarrassing. Chanyeol isn't sure it's an improvement on sitting at home alone with his boxes.
And worse, he took someone down with him. “Sorry,” Chanyeol says immediately, pushing himself up and scrambling to help the other man up. “I'm so sorry, I'm a bit of a walking disaster – ” His voice cuts off with a startled squeak when he realizes whose hand he's holding.
“It's fine,” Byun Baekhyun says. When he smiles, Chanyeol's feet slip out from underneath him all over again, and he ends up on his knees.
He blinks up at Baekhyun, damp hair hanging in his eyes. “Holy shit,” he says.
Like this, Baekhyun looks so real, softer than Chanyeol had imagined. He's not layered in makeup and his hair, instead of being of being so carefully coiffed, is just as damp as Chanyeol's. Chanyeol may be melting a little. “Are you okay?” Baekhyun asks carefully. He looks concerned.
“I'm fine,” Chanyeol says in a rush, clambering to his feet again. “You're – ” He waves a hand.
Baekhyun's eyes widen. “You recognize me?” he asks, and Chanyeol delights in the pleased light of his eyes. “Usually I only get spotted by ahjummas. I didn't know anyone below the age of forty watched my channel.”
“I do,” Chanyeol admits. “Well, watch isn't quite the right word.” He starts to gather the scattered contents of his basket. “I study, a lot, until late. But you...” Chanyeol clears his throat. “You're good. At what you do.”
Baekhyun looks up at him, speculatively, and Chanyeol swallows hard. Almost without his own volition, he finds himself beaming back down at him. “I'm Baekhyun.”
Chanyeol takes the proffered hand without hesitation. Baekhyun's grip is firm and dry and he feels a bit lightheaded. “Chanyeol.” This is a dream, isn't it? It has to be a dream. He must have hit his head too hard when he fell. Right now, he is lying on the wet floor, unconscious. It can't be real.
Delicately, Baekhyun shifts his own basket from his hand to his elbow, and he smiles. “It's miserable out, isn't it? Did you want to go get coffee or something, warm up?”
Chanyeol's nodding before the words are even out of Baekhyun's mouth. “My treat,” he suggests, and Baekhyun's smile gets even wider. Chanyeol's knees get a bit weak, but to his credit, he doesn't fall again.
Wait until Kyungsoo hears about this.
There's the one with the guy who's always shouting about how exciting his cleaning products are. He's usually the one that wakes Chanyeol up with a start. He appreciates the enthusiasm, of course, but sometimes it startles him right off the couch, and the last time that happened, his face hit his coffee table and he nearly chipped a tooth. Luckily, his laptop remained unharmed.
There are a few others that repeat, with blandly pretty women who demonstrate swimsuits with charming smiles on their faces. Those ones, though, they're not his favourite. Chanyeol's favourite is the guy who handles the beauty segment every night. If he's honest, when three thirty am rolls around, Chanyeol finds himself sliding his textbooks away in favour of sprawling out and watching him.
His name, according to the screen, is Byun Baekhyun. He's small, fine-boned, with bright eyes and an easy, entrancing smile. Even if Chanyeol knows the lines he's trading with the female host must be scripted and rehearsed, Baekhyun delivers them with a charming ease, his delicate fingers landing on her arm as he laughs at a not-so-funny joke. Chanyeol sighs.
A pillow collides with his head and Chanyeol squawks. “Again?” Kyungsoo asks, yawning and rubbing at his eyes sleepily. His oversized sleep shirt hangs off one shoulder, and condensation drips off the glass of water in his hand. “You're in love with that guy, I swear.”
“Am not,” Chanyeol argues. He tucks the pillow under his chin and tries not to let his eyes sneak back to the TV screen. Baekhyun is demonstrating some kind of bracelet and he just has the nicest hands –
“Did you just sigh dreamily?” His gaze snaps back to Kyungsoo. He's got a hand over his eyes, but Chanyeol can see the disbelieving smile on his lips. “I'm going back to bed. Don't stay up too late watching the love of your life, you have an early class tomorrow.”
Chanyeol groans and buries his face in his hands, flopping back on the couch. “He's not – ” Kyungsoo's door closing signals the end of that conversation, and Chanyeol sighs. He's not in love, he isn't! It's just –
On the television screen, Baekhyun laughs, and Chanyeol's heart does a bit of a flip-flop. Oh no.
-
“What's this?” Kyungsoo asks, holding up the package that the mailman dropped off. He shakes it a little and frowns. “It says it's from the – ”
“Nothing,” Chanyeol says quickly, snatching it out of his roommate's hands and hugging it to his chest. “It's nothing. Just something I ordered online.” He can feel the flush spreading across his cheeks, giving the lie to his words.
Kyungsoo looks up at him, amusement in his big eyes, pulling his lips tight to hold back the grin threatening to spread across his face. “Chanyeol,” he says carefully. “Did you order something from that channel?”
“No,” Chanyeol says miserably, and Kyungsoo snorts.
Even when Chanyeol tries to escape to the kitchen, Kyungsoo follows after him. They both end up at the table, Kyungsoo watching him with his chin propped up in one hand. “This is silly,” he tells Chanyeol.
There isn't a chance in hell that Chanyeol is going to open this box up in front of Kyungsoo, not now. He's not even sure what compelled him to pick up his phone, and now he's stuck with an over-priced, gaudy piece of jewelry. “It was a present for my mom?” he tries. Kyungsoo just stares at him, eyebrows raised, until Chanyeol wilts. “Shut up.”
“Your dream man sells fashion items on late night television,” Kyungsoo grins.
“I just think he's very good at what he does!” Chanyeol protests, but it's weak, and they both know it. “...and maybe I think he's kind of cute.”
“I knew it.” Kyungsoo beams at him victoriously. He climbs to his feet and rubs his knuckles against the top of Chanyeol's head. Chanyeol yelps and grimaces. “You're totally lost,” Kyungsoo tells him.
Chanyeol turns the package over in his hands. What is he going to do with this? “Not true,” he says, but he feels a little bit hopeless when Kyungsoo laughs.
-
It's starting to become a problem, Chanyeol thinks. He sits on his bed and stares mournfully at the stack of boxes, filled with useless junk. He hasn't even opened half of them, and they're just collecting dust on top of his desk, and if he's honest with himself, it doesn't make him any closer to his ridiculous crush. Maybe it's too much studying. Maybe he's spending so much time with his nose in his books, and that's why he's nursing such a silly fixation on a pretty guy who sells useless fashion items. That has to be it.
There's only one way to solve this, of course. Decisively, Chanyeol climbs to his feet, grabs a jacket, and marches out the door. Time for some fresh air!
It's cold out, and drizzling. Chanyeol really does his best not to let it dampen his spirits. By the time he's made it to the store, his curls are slicked down against his head, and no matter how much he pushes at them, they just kind of stick to his forehead. No matter, he thinks. He can get some grocery shopping done, Kyungsoo will be so pleasantly surprised that he quits giving him shit, and all will be well.
He's on his way to the register when he slips on the linoleum, wet from traffic from outside. His feet go sliding out from underneath him and he throws his long arms out, his hand colliding with someone else as he goes down hard. Sprawled out on the floor, his basketful of food spread everywhere, it's pretty embarrassing. Chanyeol isn't sure it's an improvement on sitting at home alone with his boxes.
And worse, he took someone down with him. “Sorry,” Chanyeol says immediately, pushing himself up and scrambling to help the other man up. “I'm so sorry, I'm a bit of a walking disaster – ” His voice cuts off with a startled squeak when he realizes whose hand he's holding.
“It's fine,” Byun Baekhyun says. When he smiles, Chanyeol's feet slip out from underneath him all over again, and he ends up on his knees.
He blinks up at Baekhyun, damp hair hanging in his eyes. “Holy shit,” he says.
Like this, Baekhyun looks so real, softer than Chanyeol had imagined. He's not layered in makeup and his hair, instead of being of being so carefully coiffed, is just as damp as Chanyeol's. Chanyeol may be melting a little. “Are you okay?” Baekhyun asks carefully. He looks concerned.
“I'm fine,” Chanyeol says in a rush, clambering to his feet again. “You're – ” He waves a hand.
Baekhyun's eyes widen. “You recognize me?” he asks, and Chanyeol delights in the pleased light of his eyes. “Usually I only get spotted by ahjummas. I didn't know anyone below the age of forty watched my channel.”
“I do,” Chanyeol admits. “Well, watch isn't quite the right word.” He starts to gather the scattered contents of his basket. “I study, a lot, until late. But you...” Chanyeol clears his throat. “You're good. At what you do.”
Baekhyun looks up at him, speculatively, and Chanyeol swallows hard. Almost without his own volition, he finds himself beaming back down at him. “I'm Baekhyun.”
Chanyeol takes the proffered hand without hesitation. Baekhyun's grip is firm and dry and he feels a bit lightheaded. “Chanyeol.” This is a dream, isn't it? It has to be a dream. He must have hit his head too hard when he fell. Right now, he is lying on the wet floor, unconscious. It can't be real.
Delicately, Baekhyun shifts his own basket from his hand to his elbow, and he smiles. “It's miserable out, isn't it? Did you want to go get coffee or something, warm up?”
Chanyeol's nodding before the words are even out of Baekhyun's mouth. “My treat,” he suggests, and Baekhyun's smile gets even wider. Chanyeol's knees get a bit weak, but to his credit, he doesn't fall again.
Wait until Kyungsoo hears about this.