Guitar tattoo.

A recurring image of a realistically drawn guitar on a familiar man's nerved arm kept Sehun awake. His breath keeps calm, however his grip on his pillow wouldn't budge.

He tossed to his right side of the bed. I should text him... see if he's alright. He blankly thought to himself.

Sehun's arm extended to his phone, slowly typing.

"Hey, are you going to school tomorrow?"

He mutters under his breath. You dumbass, why do you sound so awkward?

"Byun Baekhyun you better come to school tomorrow or your ass will get a whipping"

The moment Sehun rereads his text, his eyes emphasised on the word ass. His mind automatically threw him back to that awkward situation, seeing Baekhyun's alleged fuckmate's half-pulled pants and his ass showing a little bit.

Fuck it. Why did I have to see that... Sehun curses and presses the send button.

----

-Baekhyun's POV-

I have to admit. I, too was shocked over Mr. Park's deep concern. To the point he bravely visited me, not knowing whether my parents were home or not.

I was in argument with myself whether I wanted to let him in. I didn't want anything weird to happen once again. However, my conscience... my stupid conscience wouldn't let me rest. I kept thinking about the fact he brought me in the hospital and drove me back home.

Of course, it would be rude not to let him in.

He'll stay in just for a minute, right?

Nothing would happen, right?

Surely. I'll tell him I'm still sick, so I would appreciate if he stayed for a minute or two only. I'm sure he'll understand.

However, it didn't go well as I thought it would. My courage to reject him were torn into pieces as soon as he rubbed his bulged pants against my back when I was getting him orange juice.

"I hope you didn't put anything in there." His husky voice whispered on my left ear. From my ears down to my spine, a cold yet warm feeling travelled. I shivered.

No, Byun Baekhyun. Not here. Not in this sacred space. This is a fucking kitchen you dickhead. YOUR PARENTS' KITCHEN FOR YOUR INFORMATION!! I muttered quietly to myself.

Mr. Park chuckled. "Hahaha, just kidding. Don't be so tensed."

Fuck's sake Mr. Park, please don't do that again. I laughed along with him, still facing my back on him. Although my laughs could be heard around the kitchen, my face was nearly crying for help.

I gripped tightly on the glass of orange juice. Breathed a good amount of fresh oxygen. Then turned to face him.

Mr. Park's platinum blonde hair, shaved on the bottom and nicely partly to the left. Mr. Park's neat and ironed white formal shirt, with his sleeves rolled to his elbows, and first two buttons undone. Mr. Park's dark shaded pants and his bulge reflecting.

Mr. Park you are so well done.

But, why are you doing this to me? This doesn't feel right.

"Byun Baekhyun, is there something on my face?" That's when I snapped back to Earth. He lets out a soft chuckle once again.

"N-no sir, here you go." I slowly handed him his orange juice. I felt a rushed of heat and blood on my cheeks. I hope my stare didn't creep him out.

"Well, may I say that... there is something on you?" My eyes widen. Is there something on my face?!

Once again, Mr. Park lets out a chuckle. But this time, his voice goes husky.

"You're hard."

I looked down to my crotch and muttered fuck...