It's late. Chanyeol lets the rest of the workers go home a bit earlier than usual, hoping no one noticed the black case hiding in the supply closet. (Jongdae doesn't leave easily. He keeps wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and looking purposefully in Baekhyun's direction.)
Baekhyun's still here. "Ready to serenade me, Chanyeol?" He hops up on the stool near the counter, legs swinging and eyes sparkling as he watches Chanyeol take out his guitar.
Chanyeol takes care as he props the instrument delicately across his lap and begins to tune it. "Don't have high expectations," he warns. "I'm not a professional like you, Mister Future Idol."
Baekhyun sticks his tongue out. "I reserve judgement until I actually hear you play."
He waits quietly for another minute while Chanyeol plucks experimentally through the strings before piping up again.
"Does it have a name?" Baekhyun's mostly teasing, gesturing to the guitar.
"It's a he, actually," Chanyeol retorts. "And his name is Louis William Suga Adams Junior. The third."
There's a terrible moment where Chanyeol thinks Baekhyun just might walk away.
Baekhyun buckles over instead and laughs so hard he nearly cries. "That," he says, "is what I'm naming my first born child."
When they compose themselves, Chanyeol finally starts plucking out the first bars of Radiohead's "Creep." The notes sound twangy in the silence and Chanyeol isn't really sure when he hears the sound of his own voice. He's isn't vocally trained. His voice is deep enough, Chanyeol knows that, and he puts whatever he has into the lyrics and following the simple tune that he's played so many times before. It's different this time, though.
Baekhyun's watching with dark, attentive eyes and Chanyeol can't focus on remembering English words when Baekhyun looks at him like that.
Something leaps in his chest when Baekhyun says, sounding slightly awed, "I could fall asleep to your voice."
Needless to say, Chanyeol's ears heat up.
It's not until the second chorus that it happens, but Chanyeol is grateful when Baekhyun joins him.
Their voices fill the air and Chanyeol feels like his whole body is buzzing and everything is hazy but he's not drunk. Not off of alcohol, at least, but he could be drunk off the sound of Baekhyun.
The lyrics aren't true, though, Chanyeol wants to say. Not when Baekhyun sings them. Because Baekhyun's not the creep; if anything, Chanyeol might be a creep and Baekhyun's fucking special.
Baekhyun dips into his lower register, the subtly husky tone just enough to send a shiver down Chanyeol's spine. Languidly, Baekhyun leans back against the counter, eyes half-lidded and melody falling lightly from his lips. For all of Baekhyun's obnoxious impressions and purposefully off-tune covers of Girls' Generation, the real sound of him is quiet, made of low, lazy hums and breathy falsetto.
Chanyeol thinks it's a bit unfair the way Baekhyun sings. It starts from the heave in his chest as he breathes, the tremble in the long column of his throat, the entrancing shape of his mouth pressing around syllables as they escape into the air.
He can't really bring himself to look at Baekhyun straight on like this when he can already feel the heat in the tips of his ears. So he keeps strumming the guitar.
Chanyeol's not sure what's happening, but his fingers seem to realize it first. They stumble on the strings, missing notes in a chord. He clears his throat over the sound. Baekhyun doesn't stop humming, but there's an amused smile in his voice. The second time, he misses the beat completely, dropping a handful of notes. Chanyeol is too aware of the blush probably spreading through his face. Goddamn it.
He feels it. Baekhyun's stare, just a bit too heavy to be a simple glance. The singing stops.
Chanyeol gives up on trying to play. From the corner of his eye, he sees Baekhyun slide off his stool. Slightly alarmed, Chanyeol shuffles back, clutching his guitar.
"Need some help?" Baekhyun gives him his signature grin, soft and easy, curling his lips, but something distinctly predatory glints off his sharp canines.
He inches closer. "Distracted, hm?" Baekhyun's voice is different now. Somehow darker, but still warm. Too warm, in fact, Chanyeol thinks. He's almost whispering, tone lingering dangerously close to seductive.
"Uh-" Chanyeol knocks over his own chair. He scrambles to pick it up. "Sorry, Baek. I've got to go. Lots of things to do. Reorganizing my fridge. Writing a grocery list. The works." He waves apologetically as he nearly runs out the front door, leaving Baekhyun staring after him.
