Not Intended | CHANBAEK (BOOK I)

House Dynamics

With fingers splayed with soothing cream, Baekhyun swiped his fingers against Chanyeol's red face. When Baekhyun pressed too hard, Chanyeol barked at him to be gentler. Since Baekhyun knew he was back on the job, he just cocked his head at Chanyeol—who frowned in response—and very formally said, "I'm sorry."

Chanyeol scoffed as he kept his head up to face Baekhyun. "Sorry doesn't cut it. You left me outside and now I probably can't move—much less work— for days."

"You know," Baekhyun said as he rubbed more gently against Chanyeol's tender face, "If you had just put on sunscreen, maybe you wouldn't have been burnt."

Chanyeol creased his brows. "Maybe if you hadn't left me outside—"

"—Maybe if you hadn't gone outside—"

"Maybe you should just apply the damn cream on without talking," Chanyeol cut in.

Baekhyun smiled down on him. "Don't you like my voice?"

Chanyeol rolled his eyes. It wasn't that he didn't like Baekhyun's voice. Hell, the guy had a nice voice, but, again, Chanyeol wasn't in the mood to compliment. "No. I don't," Chanyeol lied.

Finished with Chanyeol's face, Baekhyun pulled back away from the sitting giant on his bed for a second. "That's too bad. I think I have a nice voice," Baekhyun lightly defended, not taking any offense. Then he motioned his hand and clicked his tongue. "Off with the shirt. Come on."

Chanyeol grunted, but nonetheless, tried to take the piece of clothing off. He had trouble with ridding of it and took more time than Baekhyun would've liked. In the end, Baekhyun helped him out, but ended up roughly pulling the shirt away, brushing it harshly against Chanyeol's damaged skin.

"Fuck!" Chanyeol yelped. He felt like punching Baekhyun at the moment. "Gentle! How many times do I have to fucking tell you!?"

Baekhyun winced at the tone of Chanyeol's voice for the first time, honestly feeling a bit guilty for being as rough as he was. "Sorry."

Chanyeol glared, but relented when he saw the look on Baekhyun's face. He didn't know whether he felt guilty for scaring him or slightly satisfied. Either way, Chanyeol ended up glancing away to avoid looking at Baekhyun. "Whatever." Then Chanyeol moved his limbs. "Do the arms."

Baekhyun nodded, but then his eyes caught something. "What about your neck?"

Chanyeol raised his brows. "Are you gonna try and strangle me?"

Quickly, Baekhyun's grin was back on his face—which, oddly, made Chanyeol feel better— and his head was tilted mockingly to the right. "Who will write my paycheck at the end of the week?"

Chanyeol mocked the grin on Baekhyun's mouth. "You think you're funny."

Moving back to Chanyeol's side and applying a new coat of cream on his arms, Baekhyun shrugged. "I might be."

Chanyeol snorted. "When you're done with my arms and neck, you're free to go—wait. I didn't mean that in a way that you could do whatever you wanted. Go clean the bathrooms or something."

Baekhyun gave him a bland look. "Fine. I'll scrub your nasty tiles."

Chanyeol met Baekhyun's eyes. "You might wanna change your attitude, Baekhyun."

Blinking, Baekhyun mentally shot himself in the foot while keeping that static smile on his face. "I'll happily clean your expensive tiles."

For a moment, Chanyeol regretted asking Baekhyun to change his attitude. The fake enthusiasm in Baekhyun's voice was cringe-worthy. Chanyeol decided he'd rather have stupid, sarcastic remarks—along with stupid facial expressions—than a creepy, plastered smile and a shrill voice that could only be featured in corny horror films.