Boss Complex

30. Rainy Tokyo Neon

"I'm hungry."

Chanyeol barks laughter, the sunset colors at eye level on the train platform, elevated above busy Tokyo streets as they wait for the Yamanote line's green striped train.

"You've eaten at least 4 times today. There was breakfast, candy from the train kiosk, lunch, and then ice cream, and that was only an hour ago. How can you be hungry again?"

Baekhyun shrugs and stays unwavering in his decision.

"Dunnow. I'm hungry. Feed me."

Chanyeol grabs his face and squeezes his cheeks, forcing an ugly pucker that he kisses quickly and nods his head.

"Alright, we'll go eat." He agrees.

Baekhyun clings to the man's arm once more, eyes closed as he catalogs the memories into neat folders of his mind, trying not to dwell on Chanyeol's hot spring admission that he makes no plans on leaving his sister. But the truth is that after this day together, where they're perfectly in sync and after a night of lovemaking to solidify their feelings, there's no way that he won't let this continue. He's not the kind of man that turns down opportunities at work, so why would he let this good opportunity outside of work go?

Chanyeol has already mapped out where they would eat dinner, and the tabletop cooking restaurant is the kind of domestic bliss Baekhyun had mentioned he liked in passing. Shabu Shabu is cooked in a boiling pot in the center of the table with veggies and tofu and lots of beef and Baekhyun was especially pleased with this plan. Having his boss personally cook his sliced meat by stroking it through boiling water until it's dark enough to eat is basically something he hadn't even known was a fantasy until this moment. But there's no going back now. Being doted upon by the man that so many fear is a new kind of aphrodisiac and he's completely hooked on this new high. He looks so handsome with his sleeves rolled up and his forearms glistening with the moisture of the hot water.

Chanyeol turns his head to wipe beaded sweat from his face on the shoulder of his shirt and Baekhyun notes, not for the first time, the small hairline scar on his cheek, half hidden by his sideburn.

"Where did you get that scar?" Baekhyun wonders aloud this time and Chanyeol looks surprised.

"What scar?"

"The one on your cheek."

His eyes drop to the nabé pot and Baekhyun's interest is tickled by the aversion.

"Is it that noticeable, even from where you are?"

"No. I just know your face by now. So where did you get it? From a fight at school? From your father? From a girlfriend?"

"No. I got it when I was about five or six. It's one of my earliest memories... I..." He stops here and swallows hard.

Part of him knows he should stop Chanyeol but he doesn't want to. He wants to know this secret that is so hard to tell. Something nobody else would know.

"I was being impatient," Chanyeol continues. "I wasn't listening to my Mother who was demanding that I sit still. But I remember having all of this energy that I couldn't keep in. I was getting my hair cut. The barber had been there for a long time, there were pictures going back to black and white on the walls, the progression of time in a shop that built its reputation. My father was talking to the gentleman at the counter about getting a real hot towel facial and a close shave. I thought that I might need one too, which of course I didn't, but I wanted to be like my Father."

Chanyeol lifts the meat from the water and sets it on a plate for Baekhyun once more and grabs more meat from the large assorted tray.

"Well I was squirming while the barber worked, he was kind and he kept telling my mother not to worry and that all children squirm a little. I was agreeing with him and without thinking turned my head towards him, I wanted to smile at the man for standing up for my impatience like it was worthy of physical confirmation. In that moment, the shears sliced my cheek and everything went still. I watched a single line of blood appear and immediately apologized to the man. I said I was sorry for moving when he told me not to, sorry I was a bad boy who didn't listen, sorry..."