Chapter Text
Na Baekjin isn’t particularly fond of change. Every morning, he wakes up at the same time, makes the same breakfast, then is out of the door by 7:00 on the dot. He spends weekdays working at the same company he’s been at ever since graduating college, in the same building he’s been in ever since being promoted 5 years ago. Each day he arrives exactly 5 minutes early. Each item of clothing he wears is planned to the T, with all possible weather conditions accounted for beforehand. Although some may call his lifestyle meticulous, boring, or even obsessive, Baekjin knows he wouldn’t have it any other way. The predictability had in fact become a source of comfort after Baekjins tumultuous earlier life, in which there were many adrenaline-filled days coupled with sleepless nights, either at clubs, or fighting, occasionally both. How much more could anyone ask for? Baekjin was perfectly content.
In fact, if anyone was to judge lifestyles, it should be Baekjin. He can’t even begin to fathom the way his coworkers live. Most of the other 30 year olds at his company go out everyday after work, drinking and eating together, for what he infers is hours on end due to the hungover and sluggish state they come in. He especially finds the life that the younger demographic of his coworkers live to be sickeningly social. Who has time for so many conversations, so many different events? Don’t they find it draining? Absurdly, even knowing his rather infamous personality, some of his coworkers occasionally try to ask him out along with them.
Especially Park Humin. Loud, cheerful, likeable Park Humin. From the moment a young, hopeful Humin joined the company, Baekjin realized that something was going to change, whether he liked it or not. And, just as expected, Humin wasted no time and fitted himself right into Baekjins schedule, with a recklessness that reminded Baekjin somewhat of his turbulent youth.
Although his fellow younger employees had already long ago given up on trying to thaw Baekjins frozen heart through the power of friendship (some even romantically), Humin is just as sickeningly persistent as the first day they met.
“Baekjiin-ssi! Let’s go out for dinner!” The younger man would exclaim, leaning onto Baekjins desk with a single muscular arm. For some reason, this exact action along with these exact words are repeated almost everyday, despite the chillingly cold look Baekjin often responds with. The same look, that when directed at others resulted in them immediately backing off. This sort of anomaly had caused being around Humin always resulted in a discomforting feeling in his chest, one that made him feel like his frozen heart was expanding to almost inhumane sizes.
At times, Baekjins firm no’s and rejections would even prompt Humin to ridiculously attempt to bribe him. Sometimes, instead of words, the shorter man would simply place one of Baekjins favorite sodas on his desk while the older man was working. When Baekjin would look up, all he would see were Humin’s hopeful eyes and wide smile.
One day, Humin places down nothing but a crumpled slip of lined paper. Baekjin stares at it, looking up at Humin, his lack of amusement evident. Humin only tips his chin forward silently towards the paper, as if daring Baekjin, before walking back to his desk. That is how Na Baekjin gets the number of Park Humin, or Baku, as he wrote on the slip of paper, his large script far from aesthetically pleasing.
Of course, Baekjin never texted him. Much to his delight Humin would find a neat handwritten note reading “No thank you” later that same day. The older man believed that he was too far along in his life for small, unfulfilling things such as going out.
But after that day, Baekjin unknowingly finds himself growing a sort of fascination with Humin. Part of him wonders why the younger man keeps relentlessly trying, while Baekjins other coworkers have long ago given up on the impossible task of attempting to make him socialise. Not that he was annoyed–In fact, Humin’s continuous attempts had become a part of the routine Baekjin cherished so much. Which is why, despite being the supervisor, he hadn’t ever attempted taking disciplinary action.
So when the day came where Humin hadn’t even so much as glanced at him besides a very hearty “Good Morning!” (Which was also forcefully integrated into Baekjins daily routine) It annoyed Baekjin. But for one day, Baekjin was able to put it aside. As long as things would go back to normal the next day.
Mundane, Humin-less days passed, and a sinking feeling began to grow in Baekjins chest. Of course, only because his routine was interrupted. He doesn’t appreciate that. Sometimes in the Humin-less weeks he would find himself making two cups of coffee, not wearing the perfect Friday outfit, or God forbid, even coming to work late.
Although Baekjin developed a fondness for monotony thanks to his excitement-filled youth, the loss of Humin’s insistence had begun to suck the color even out of his cherished routine. One that he had gotten used to. And for the sake of his.. routine, Baekjin needs to make a decision.
The next day, Baekjin comes in, a little disheveled. Well, for Baekjins standards, meaning it would require deep observance to really know something was out of place. A single hair out of place, the subtle hint of darkness under his eyes where eyebags had begun to form, even small changes in his posture. When Humin glances up and opens his mouth wide to repeat the same cheerful greeting he did almost everyday, Baekjin interrupts him.
“Humin-ssi”. He says sternly, his eyebrows pressed into a straight line. Immediately, when silence falls around him Baekjin regrets his tone of voice. Despite Baekjin's meticulously planned out words the weeks before, he didn’t bother to take his tone into factor, and clearly this especially strict, almost intimidating one was a mistake.
The older man had succeeded in gathering the attention of almost everyone around Humin. His intimidating status, although something that he prided himself on simply due to the fact that he relied on it a lot to excuse himself from social events, wasn’t something that he had expected to stab him in the back like this.
With the unexpected weight of everyone's stares on him, Baekjin gulps, the memorized script rapidly disappearing in his head. Fuck. Why is this so hard? He goes over what he wants to say over and over again, but the words disappear as quickly as he begins to recollect what he wanted to say.
“I.. ah.. I wanted to say..” He continued quietly, hoping for a little more privacy. He gulped again, his throat beginning to feel uncharacteristically dry. It didn’t help that his sudden hushness had only caused the people in their proximity to lean in with curiosity. If he was in the right state of mind, Baekjin would have no qualms about directing a glare their way. However, the older man wasn’t even in the right state of mind to even remember to give them increasingly difficult tasks later.
After a length of painful silence, Baekjin is able to croak out a weak “Good Morning.” He had even considered offering the younger man a kind smile, but quickly figured that he made enough of a fool of himself.
His rather anticlimactic gesture seems to alleviate the attention on him immediately. He was able to feel those around them quickly refocusing on something else, their boredom evident.
When Humin’s head tilted and his wide, sickeningly sweet eyes began twinkling with curiosity and a bit of adorable bafflement, Baekjin couldn’t help the uncomfortably warm feeling he wasn’t able to quite name rising in his chest. His now damp fists gripped the handle of his briefcase so tightly that he wouldn’t be surprised if they would be completely white if he looked down.
Before the younger man was able to formulate a response, Baekjin turned and walked swiftly to his desk. Once he got to his desk, nodding casually to those who were once staring at him as if he were a spectacle on the way, he wastes no time sinking into his chair with an ashamed groan. He places his burning face on his hands, his fingers running through his slicked back, neat hair.
No, this wouldn’t do at all. But why did he have to fix it? Baekjin felt his frustration rising again. Although he stuck to the same routine, fate still brought change to him. No matter what he did, his life would never go the way he wanted to and bad luck had begun to seem less like something that he left in the past, and more so that it was simply a fact of his existence.
Fine. He thought begrudgingly. If change won’t let him go, then all he would have to do was simply take a hold of it instead. Then, once he could probably grasp it, he would swallow it till it didn’t exist anymore.
Baekjin picked up his phone with the reluctance of a soldier off to war. He typed, retyped, then typed a message again. Then finally, he clicks send. And if he wasn’t too busy wallowing in his own self-pity and shame, he would’ve heard the loud gasp that cut through the side of the room where Baku sat.