Sehun had never had a cubicle before.
He’d had desks, and at his internship he’d shared an open cube with two other techs, but now he had a real job and with that real job came his own desk in his own cubicle, three and a half walls that carved out a little space in this big company that was just for him. He had this stupid urge to cover the grey fabric walls in posters and photos and cute colorful thumbtacks. He hadn’t even known cute colorful thumbtacks were a thing until he passed one of his new co-worker’s cubicles and saw the walls adorned in brightly colored smiley faces and flowers and birds and such, but now he wanted some.
He wasn’t sure how long he had to wait before slathering his walls in color, but chances were good it wasn’t a very appropriate thing to do on your first day, so Sehun settled into his new chair and booted up his new computer and checked his new email, fully expecting his inbox to be empty, seeing as he’d walked into the building just about two hours ago and had done nothing but fill out paperwork and get a basic tour so far. But to his surprise there was one email in there, a forward from the help-desk ticketing system, with a note from one of the senior members of the help desk team that said this one’s all yours, new guy.
Was this a test? If they were just going to throw him into the job without introduction, Sehun was okay with that, even if the idea made him a little bit nervous. He didn’t really know much about the systems yet - what if he couldn’t solve the user’s problem?
But the moment he opened the ticket and read it, he relaxed. Just reading the user’s description of the problem, he was pretty sure he knew exactly what to do. He’d dealt with dozens of complaints just like this over the course of his internship.
Sehun dialed into the remote access system and took a moment to familiarize himself with the controls before locating the user’s PC in the list and picking up the phone.
“Product Sales, this is Park Chanyeol,” the voice on the other end greeted cheerfully.
Sehun blinked. It was one of the deepest voices he’d ever heard, rumbling like a boulder down a hill over the line. “Mr. Park, this is Oh Sehun from the help desk. I’ve got your ticket here - it says you’re having a printer issue?”
“Who? Oh, you must be the new guy! Call me Chanyeol. Yeah, hey, thanks, I have no idea what’s wrong with it. I keep pressing print and it says it’s printing but nothing comes out! Maybe there’s gnomes.”
He sounded very serious about that theory, and Sehun had to bite back a smile. “Well, if you don’t mind, Chanyeol, I’ll dial in to your PC and see what the issue is.” He started doing just that, setting the login in motion. “In the meantime, do me a favor and check that your printer cables are connected properly.”
“Oh! Right. I knew that. Sure, hang on.” The phone clattered to the desk, and shuffling noises came from the other end. Sehun knew chances were good the printer cables were not the issue - the error message would have been different if that was the case - but it gave the user something to do.
Once he was into Chanyeol’s computer, Sehun started poking around in the printer queue, in the spooler. Everything seemed in order, which was odd. No documents stuck in the queue, no errors...He stared at it for a moment, wondering what he was missing.
That deep voice came back on the line. “Everything’s connected,” Chanyeol reported, sounding a little breathless. “I even went under the desk to check that the surge protector was turned on.”
Under the desk? Wait. “Just to confirm,” Sehun said, “tell me the make and model of the printer you’re trying to print to?”
“It’s an...um...oh! Here. HP Deskjet 3000.”
Aha. “Well there’s your problem,” Sehun said, trying not to smile. “Your default printer got changed to a Toshiba machine. I’m sorry, I’m not too familiar with the building yet. Is there a big floor-standing copier/printer on your floor?”
“Yeah! It’s over on the other side of the room.”
“Well, I’d bet that’s where your documents are.” Sehun made a quick change. “I’ve reset your default to your desk printer. You shouldn’t have any issues now.” And just to be on the safe side, he removed the button for ‘Devices and Printers’ from the start menu, suspecting that some accidental clicking had gotten the user in this situation in the first place.
“Wow, thanks! That was fast!”
Yeah, that was because the issue was mostly the user, not the computer itself. “Glad I could be of service,” Sehun said. “Have a nice day.”
“You too!” The line went dead and Sehun set his phone back down, grinning to himself as he entered the outcome of the call into the ticket and closed it. Not bad, for his first five minutes on the job.
Twenty seconds later, the sound of a rolling chair on carpet approached, and Sehun turned just in time to see a young man maybe two or three years his senior roll up in a low-back task chair. It was Zitao, the co-worker who had forwarded him the ticket, whom Sehun had met for the first time during his tour this morning. “Hey, not bad, new guy,” Zitao said, sounding impressed. “I think that’s the fastest we’ve gotten him through the system in weeks.”
“Tao, you didn’t give him Chanyeol, did you?” a new voice asked, and Sehun looked up to see the top half of a head peering over his cubicle wall, dark skin and dark hair and sleepy-looking eyes. “You’re gonna scare him off!”
Sehun cocked his head, trying to process that and remember the other helpdesk tech’s name at the same time. Jongin, that was it. “Why?” he asked. “He wasn’t mean or angry or anything.”
“Oh yeah, no, don’t get me wrong,” Jongin said, draping his arms over the cubicle wall comfortably. “Chanyeol’s cool, he’s like this bouncy ray of sunshine. He’s just terrible at technology. You know how some people have the uncanny ability to break tech just by looking at it? He’s one of those.”
Oh. Yeah, Sehun’s mother was one of those, too. “Well, he didn’t seem too bad on the phone,” he said hesitantly. “The problem was a pretty easy fix.”
“Hey,” Tao said with a shrug, “if you like it, you can take his tickets from now on. Frees us up for the stuff we actually have to get done.” He jerked his thumb at Jongin to indicate who us was. “Chanyeol’s tickets always end up interrupting us in the middle of projects, it’s uncanny.”
Sehun shrugged. “That’s okay,” he said, drawing surprised looks from his new co-workers. “If you want to send his tickets to me, that’s fine, I’ll take them.” Strictly troubleshooting work wasn’t totally ideal, but it was his first job out of university and everyone had to start somewhere.
“Dude,” Jongin said, “you’re officially my new favorite person.” He disappeared back into his own cube, and Zitao gave Sehun a look.
“You’re gonna regret saying that,” he said, but he was smiling, so Sehun hoped he was at least mostly joking. “Give it a week, you’ll see.” He spun his chair around and rolled away.
True to his word, by the end of the week, Sehun understood what Jongin and Tao were talking about.
Chanyeol in Sales had the uncanny ability to find every possible way to make his computer stop working. In four days, Sehun got nine tickets from Chanyeol, each one more headdesk-inducing than the last.
To be fair, some of the tickets were for things that were totally outside of Chanyeol’s control, like an automatically installed update that didn’t install correctly, or when another employee had pulled out a network cable and knocked out network connectivity to the entire floor and Chanyeol just happened to be the first person to say something. Of course, there were also the tickets that made absolutely no sense and Sehun couldn’t figure out how the issues had even happened, and at least one that Sehun never actually figured out what the issue even was, but with some poking around did manage to get it to stop happening.
He found, though, that it wasn’t nearly as exasperating as Tao and Jongin had made it sound. Sure, Chanyeol had an almost supernatural knack for getting into technological trouble, but every time Sehun called him up he was greeted with enthusiasm, treated with respect and thanked profusely. Chanyeol was a nice man, with a rather silly sense of humor, and Sehun found he didn’t mind helping him out.
Friday morning, Sehun was meeting with the help desk supervisor, as he was scheduled to do every week until he was out of his training period. And Minseok was usually busy, so Sehun was glad to have the chance to talk to him, if for no other reason than to make sure he hadn’t accidentally screwed something up already.
Of course, the moment he sat down, Minseok pushed a couple of pages of printouts across the desk.
“Know what that is?” he asked.
Sehun looked. “My activity log?” he guessed.
“Mmm-hmm.” His manager shot him a very skeptical eyebrow. “Want to tell me why every single one of Park Chanyeol’s tickets ended up in your queue?”
“Um.” Crap, was he not supposed to take them all? Was there some rule he wasn’t aware of about one tech not taking the same person each time? “I told Tao and Jongin I didn’t mind working with him,” Sehun said, figuring being truthful was best. “I guess they decided to take advantage of that. Is that okay?”
“Well, that depends.” Minseok glanced back down at the paper. “You manage to get his myriad issues solved in record time, so as long as you still have time for project work, it shouldn’t be an issue.”
Sehun’s heart leapt. “Project work?” he asked.
His hopeful tone earned him a smile. “The Finance department needs new PCs,” he explained. “The system admin guys are in the process of upgrading their software and the new applications aren’t compatible with the shitty machines they’re currently using. I thought I’d let you request and install the hardware.” He raised an eyebrow. “There’s a lot of red tape to get through. You’ll have to write a memo.”
“I can do that,” Sehun said, trying not to sound too eager. Even if he had to stay a little later to take care of the never-ending problems of Chanyeol in Sales and still get his own work done, he would. That after just one week, Minseok was trusting him with a project, and an important one even if it was fairly simple, boded well for his success here.
“Good,” Minseok said briskly. “One less thing on my plate.” He waved his hand. “You’re doing great so far, Sehun. Now get out, I have three more meetings this morning.”
Sehun went, and tried not to skip all the way back to his desk.
“Park, are you sitting anywhere near your computer right now?” Sehun asked through grit teeth.
“Do me a favor and go someplace else, okay?”
Chanyeol’s deep voice was petulant. “Damnit, did it go wrong? I thought you said this was going to be quick.”
Breathing out a long-suffering sigh, Sehun said, “On everyone else’s PC, it was quick. Figures you would be the one to have issues.” Chanyeol made an apologetic noise, and Sehun rubbed at the headache forming between his eyes. “Look, just, take a walk or something, would you? I’m pretty sure your very presence is disruptive to technology.”
Sehun wasn’t actually kidding, not really, but Chanyeol laughed, bass and booming and loud enough that Sehun pulled the phone away from his ear. “Alright, I’ve got some calls to make anyway. I’ll go commandeer a conference room. Good luck, man.”
He hung up, and Sehun popped one earbud into his ear and started his music, because he was going to be there a while. It was a simple software installation that had gone off without a hitch on the rest of the PCs in Sales, but of course on Chanyeol’s PC the installation had frozen midway. Now Sehun had to dig manually through the registry and delete all traces of the corrupted installation so that he could re-install.
It took hours, but Sehun managed to get it done, working through lunch and with his other tickets and the projects he was supposed to get done piling up in his inbox. He finally logged off of Chanyeol’s computer just before 3PM, and sent him a quick email to tell him it was done and please don’t touch it before diving into his other work. It ended up being a late night, with Sehun finally stumbling out of the office sometime around eight PM, after twelve hours of work.
“I was about to call the police out,” his roommate said as he shut the door to their apartment behind him and slumped tiredly against it. Luhan stuck his head around the doorway from the kitchen, eyed Sehun’s form, and then disappeared again, calling, “Hard day?”
“Just had a four-hour detour in the middle that set my schedule back,” Sehun grumbled. “Got it all done, though.” He toed off his shoes and followed his nose to the kitchen, where Luhan was busy making fried rice. “Mmm, that smells amazing.”
“Sit your ass down and don’t crowd me,” his hyung scolded, shoving Sehun lightly towards a chair. Sehun collapsed, dropping his head onto his folded arms on the table. “Let me guess, it was that guy in Sales.”
Tilting his head so he could look up at Luhan over his elbow, Sehun grinned ruefully. “However did you know?” he asked, cheeky.
Luhan shook his head. “I told you, it was a mistake offering to take on all his problems. You’ve only been there a month and you’re already burning yourself out.”
“I’ll be fine, hyung,” Sehun murmured. “Today wasn’t really his fault; I think his hard drive is damaged. There’s no other reason the installation should have frozen, unless it was trying to write to a corrupted sector.”
He got a grain of rice flung at him. “Stop with the tech-speak, you nerd,” Luhan said, grinning. “I don’t know what that means, all I know is that you come home every night complaining about this guy. Chanyeol’s PC did something weird today. Chanyeol called me for something dumb again today. Oh my god that man destroys every piece of tech he touches.”
Sehun blinked. He hadn’t realized he was being that obnoxious about it. “Well, in my defense,” he said, “Chanyeol does take up like...thirty percent of my work day.” He smiled ruefully. “I should tell HR to add him to my job description.”
Luhan snorted, turned off the heat, and started talking about his own day while spooning rice into bowls, and that was the end of that conversation.
Sehun didn’t even think about the incident again until the next day, when a courier came down to the IT department, was pointed at Sehun’s desk, and rather unceremoniously dropped a sizable potted plant on it.
Sehun blinked. “Uh, what’s this?” he asked.
“Delivery,” the courier drawled, unceremoniously. “Sign here, please.”
Sehun did, eyeing the plant. The moment the courier left, Tao and Jongin appeared, Tao in his rolling chair and Jongin over the cubicle wall as per usual.
“Ooh, who’s sending you presents?” Jongin asked curiously. Sehun shrugged and turned the pot, inspecting it. It was a weird-looking plant, gnarled branches and thick, plasticy-feeling red-tinged leaves, like a little alien tree. There was a little card with a note scrawled inside in messy, close to illegible hand, on a pick stuck into the soil in the pot.
I heard it’s dark down there, so here’s something to brighten your desk! Thanks for your hard work yesterday~ PCY
A smile broke out on Sehun’s face, mostly without his input. “That’s nice of him,” he murmured, admiring the plant. It was definitely a strange-looking thing, but Sehun decided he liked it; it was unusual and the burst of green and red did look nice against his still mostly-bare gray walls. The tag said it was a jade plant, and could survive without direct sunlight.
“Nice of who?” Tao reached past Sehun and plucked the card off of the card holder. He scanned it quickly and blinked in surprise. “Chanyeol sent you this?”
“I did spend four hours fixing his PC yesterday,” Sehun pointed out.
“Yeah, but, I mean, that’s par for the course for Chanyeol’s stuff. He never sent me a plant.” Tao eyed Sehun up and down, eyebrows raised in a way that made Sehun want to blush, though he wasn’t really sure why. It was a nice gesture, but it wasn’t like a bouquet of roses or something; Chanyeol was just thanking Sehun for the extra work he put in. Sehun wasn’t sure what Tao was trying to imply with that face.
“Whatever,” Sehun said, shrugging off Tao’s eyebrow-waggling leer and Jongin’s curious eyes. He turned his back on his co-workers to signal he was done with this question and eyed his cubicle, before positioning the plant behind and slightly to the left of his monitor.
There, that looked nice.
He waited until his co-workers lost interest and left before shooting off a quick thank-you email to Chanyeol. No sense in inviting the teasing.
This time, the ticket just said, Help? Sehun sighed and picked up the phone.
“Product Sales, this is Park Chanyeol,” a by-now familiar bass voice greeted.
“It’s like my name doesn’t even come up on your phone display when I call you,” Sehun teased.
“Hey, man, it only took the President calling me from someone else’s phone one time for me to learn,” Chanyeol shot back, his tone relaxing immediately. “I am so glad you called. I think I really broke it this time.”
He sounded like a kicked puppy. Sehun sighed. “Okay, what’s the issue?” he asked, already dialing into Chanyeol’s PC.
The remote access program came back with an error just as Chanyeol said, “It won’t start.”
Sehun blinked. “At all?” Wait. He cocked an eyebrow. “Is it, you know, plugged in?”
“Okay, I’m not that bad,” Chanyeol huffed, making Sehun smile. “Yes, it’s plugged in. It gets through the first screen, you know, ‘press escape to enter the menu’ blah blah, but then it just...freezes. I’ve tried three times.”
Shit. That sounded like the hard drive might have finally bit it. Sehun glanced at his inbox, where the signed requisition memo for a new PC for Chanyeol had just come back to him, after weeks of arguing back and forth with Minseok, who was reluctant to spend the money on someone notorious for breaking things. Sehun had argued that the particular PC he’d requested - more powerful, with a newer OS - would cut down on a lot of Chanyeol’s issues; over the course of his first few weeks he’d quickly realized that because Chanyeol had a reputation, all the oldest and shittiest equipment was pawned off on him, exacerbating the problem. Minseok had finally acquiesced just a few days before, and Sehun had been meaning to get going on that, but hadn’t yet found the time.
“Okay,” Sehun sighed. “I guess I’ll come up and see what I can do.” If the hard drive wasn’t totally dead, he might be able to get it up and going well enough to tide Chanyeol over until Sehun could get his new PC delivered and set up, and if it was, he’d have reason to ask Minseok to approve overnight shipping and the allotted time to get Chanyeol set up fast.
“You’re my hero,” Chanyeol said. “I’m on the fourth floor, in the northwest corner by the windows.”
So Sehun gathered up his tools - which was basically his keychain multitool and a flash drive with a ton of diagnostic programs installed - and left the basement for the first time in six weeks, headed up five flights of stairs.
He saw the desk before he saw the man, coming up behind the high-backed chair. (And hey, how come the sales guys got better chairs than IT did?) True to Chanyeol’s word, the PC was stuck in the boot screen, running and running without getting anywhere like a hamster in a wheel. Sehun couldn’t help it, he sighed in exasperation, and at the sound of it the chair turned and the man in it hurriedly got to his feet, and for the first time Sehun laid eyes on the man he’d spoken with every day.
And Sehun hadn’t really realized, until that moment, that he’d sort of built an image in his head of Chanyeol. He’d been imagining him kind of fat and jolly, maybe late 30’s or early 40’s, balding, with glasses and a cheerful smile that made his eyes crinkle and disappear.
It looked like he’d gotten the smile and the glasses right, but that was all. Chanyeol was smoking hot.
Tall, lanky, and fit. Broad-shouldered. Long-legged. Big hands, a long, pale neck, stylishly cut hair dyed a soft light brown. Big, round, soft brown eyes made bigger and rounder by the fashionably thick-framed glasses, and a toothy, handsome smile that got wider as his gaze dragged up Sehun’s form. He couldn’t have been more than a few years older than Sehun himself and Sehun’s entire worldview scrambled to rearrange.
“Hey, you must be Sehun,” Chanyeol said, and oh shit his voice sounded even deeper in person, resonant and sexy as fuck. He reached out a hand, and on autopilot Sehun took it, and tried not to swoon as strong fingers wrapped warmly around his palm.
“Yep,” Sehun said intelligently. “Hi. Nice to, uh, meet you, finally.”
Chanyeol’s laugh was familiar, but the accompanying expression on his shockingly handsome face was new, and Sehun found himself automatically smiling in return, his hand lingering in Chanyeol’s instead of awkwardly pulling away like he usually did.
“So you’re the fabled techie,” a new voice said, and Sehun looked up to see a smaller young man in the next cubicle over, leaning back in his chair to look around the cube wall. “We were starting to think Yeol was making you up.” His eyes were much more appraising than Chanyeol’s were when he looked Sehun over. “Damn, you’re just a kid.”
Sehun’s cheeks flushed sharply, the polite smile dropping. “I’m 22,” he deadpanned.
Chanyeol burst out laughing, deep, floor-shaking guffaws that made the heat in Sehun’s cheeks reach critical mass. “Ah, don’t get offended,” he said, patting Sehun companionably on the shoulder. “Baekhyun’s foot is in his mouth most of the time.” His smile literally made Sehun’s knees weak. This was bad. “And since you came onboard, I’ve spent far more time actually working than waiting on IT to fix my stuff, so I don’t care how young you are. You’re officially my favorite.” His hand fell away from Sehun’s shoulder, leaving him feeling chilly in the wake of Chanyeol’s warmth. “So whaddya think, tech hero? Can you save it?”
Right. The reason he was up here. “I’ll do my best,” Sehun said. “Do you mind if I…?” He gestured at the chair.
“Oh! Yeah, obviously. Be my guest.” Chanyeol made a sweeping, overdramatic gesture at the chair, like a royal courtier bowing to a prince, and Sehun tried not to smile like a moron as he took the chair. On top of being hot as hell, Chanyeol was cute, and it was all Sehun could do to remain professional and not squeal like a fangirl at an idol concert.
He plugged in his flash drive, hard-reset the computer, and navigated into the boot menu. Warmth by his shoulder made him look up; Chanyeol was leaning right into his space, perusing the screen curiously. Startled, Sehun’s finger slipped, and he accidentally continued into startup without actually making the change to boot from his flash drive. He swore under his breath and reached for the power button to start over.
“Crap, I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” Chanyeol muttered. “I’ll just...go over here.” He reached further over Sehun’s head to grab something off his overhead shelving, giving Sehun a noseful of some pretty nice cologne and a rather spectacular view of his crisp white dress shirt stretching taut across his chest, and then he was gone, crossing the room in long strides to duck into an empty conference room. Sehun watched him go without turning the chair, admiring the insanely long lines of his fitted grey slacks and the hint of a small, tight ass under the bottom hem of his suit coat.
Yanking his eyes away, Sehun bit the inside of his lip hard and refocused on his job. Time enough to deal with that later.
45 minutes of trying everything later, Sehun determined that it was, in fact, the hard drive, and Chanyeol’s PC was dead in the water. It was a good thing he’d fought for that requisition memo, because the paperwork for getting a new machine was already half done.
Having done all he could do, Sehun turned off the bricked machine and went to look for Chanyeol. He knocked on the door to the conference room and was waved inside.
Chanyeol was standing, leaning on the conference room table with palms spread widely apart, papers and notes spread around him and a pen tucked behind one round ear. Sehun realized he was on speakerphone with someone a moment before an unfamiliar voice filled the room.
“Look, Park, I have a lot on my plate - ”
“We all do, Kyuhyun. But this client’s already been through three delays, I’m afraid if there’s another one we’ll lose them. Look, if you’re too swamped, is there someone else down there who might be able to pinch-hit?”
A long-suffering sigh. “I’ll ask around and get back to you.”
“Appreciate that.” He reached out to hang up the phone, and Sehun cocked his head and admired the long, unbroken curve of his body. To Sehun, he said, “Heaven forfend I ask Implementation to actually, you know, do their jobs.” He grinned, showing he was kidding, and Sehun smiled helplessly back, unable to not respond to his cheer. “So what’s the story? Did you fix it?”
Sehun leaned on the doorframe, arms crossing over his chest unconsciously. “Good news and bad news,” he said, and Chanyeol made a face. “The bad news is, it’s dead. Hard drive’s shot. You’re gonna be without a computer until I can get you a new one.”
“Damnit,” Chanyeol groaned. “How did I manage that?”
Blinking at him, Sehun softened his tone and said, “It isn’t actually your fault, despite the jokes people make.” Chanyeol looked up at him, clearly surprised, and Sehun wondered how much of the teasing comments the man had internalized. “Your PC is one of the oldest in the company, and I figured out that your hard drive was failing in my first week. This was going to happen sooner or later no matter what you did.” He smiled. “Which brings me to the good news - I saw this coming, so I’ve already gotten approval to get you a new one. I’ll order it today and have it overnighted. Hopefully you’ll be back up and running by Thursday morning at the latest.”
Chanyeol’s jaw dropped. “You really are my hero,” he breathed, and Sehun laughed, feeling his cheeks heat. “Oh, but my files? My projects?”
Sehun rolled his eyes. “Everything’s backed up, don’t worry,” he said. “That’s why we have an internal network. It’ll all be there.”
Whistling impressedly, Chanyeol said, “Damn, that’s awesome. Can I hug you? Is that weird?”
With his heartbeat suddenly very, very loud in his ears, Sehun kept his tone as cheerfully nonchalant as possible and said, “Sure.” And Chanyeol did just that, crossing the room in two strides and wrapping long arms around Sehun’s shoulders. Sehun pressed his face into Chanyeol’s suitcoat and kept his own arms safely around Chanyeol’s upper back, revelling for one brief, beautiful moment in Chanyeol’s warmth, his scent, his trim, firm body.
It was over too quick, and Chanyeol patted Sehun’s shoulder companionably as he pulled away. “I guess I’ll be at my desk if you need me,” he said. “Keep me updated, yeah?”
It was a dismissal, and Sehun needed to get back down to his desk and place that order anyway. “I will,” he promised, and got another warm shoulder-pat and a wide, gorgeous smile before he left.
Sehun’s cell phone was out in his hand before he made it down the first flight of stairs.
We need to go shopping tonight.
His answer came just as he plopped down at his desk and started digging for that purchase memo.
Always up for spending money. Why, what’s up?
You know that sales guy I’m always bitching about? Met him today. Guess what, he’s hot.
A pause. Sehun found the memo, looked it over one more time to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything, and picked up the phone to call Minseok and explain he needed permission to order overnight shipping. When he’d finally gotten his way, Luhan’s answer was waiting for him.
How hot are we talking?
Sehun grinned, feeling warm at the memory of Chanyeol’s smile, his handshake, his arms.
He placed the order, selected overnight shipping, and billed it to the company.
Well damn. That’s a twist. So why are we shopping?
Because if there’s even the slightest chance I’m going to be seeing him around, I need better work clothes. I want him panting after my ass. Thrift-store slacks two sizes too big are not going to cut it.
Right out of university, Sehun had not been able to afford good work clothes, and had gotten everything second-hand. But he had a few paychecks behind him now, he could afford to spend a little. If Chanyeol was at all interested in men, Sehun was going to get his attention.
Got it. Pick me up on your way home and we’ll go.
You’re the best, hyung.