KPop: make a day feel like a minute (Baekhyun/Chanyeol) [3/4]

[maayacolabackup]

*

When Chanyeol gets out of the shower, Baekhyun is nowhere to be found. He checks discreetly around the house, but his friend isn’t watching Disney movies on Kyungsoo’s laptop with him and Kai, Sehun, and Lu Han. He’s not in the kitchen with Lay and Minseok. He’s not with the others on the front step, playing soccer in the last of the dim evening light.

“Bacon is out on the beach,” Tao says solemnly, and Chanyeol ruffles his hair in thanks.

As Chanyeol walks along the beach, he hears Baekhyun before he sees him. It’s a sweet and clear sound, more like a lullaby than anything else, and parts of it get swallowed up by the tide crashing. But it’s enough for Chanyeol to follow the melody to the man.

Baekhyun is sitting alone on the shore, looking up at the twilight-purple sky and singing to the sun.

“You have a beautiful voice,” Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun jumps, turning to look at Chanyeol with round eyes. “I didn’t know you could sing.” The stiffness in Baekhyun’s back is impossible to ignore, so Chanyeol doesn’t try.

“I can’t,” Baekhyun says. “At least not when anyone is listening.” Baekhyun looks back at the sky, and Chanyeol squats beside him, resting his elbows on his knees. “Not everyone can be blessed with your confidence.”

“You seem fairly confident to me,” Chanyeol teases. “It takes a lot of confidence to wear that eyesore of a jacket.”

“That jacket is designer,” Baekhyun says, not rising to the bait.

“So what, is the eyeliner like the spidey-suit, or what? Your… armor for facing the day?”

“Maybe,” Baekhyun says. “I’m trying to wear less.” His shoulders are still tense, and Chanyeol wants to reach out and rest his hand on Baekhyun’s arm, but something tells him he shouldn’t.

“So you’re not a big fan of karaoke, I take it?”

“I used to love it.”

“Was singing the job you couldn’t do?”

Baekhyun peeks at him out of the corner of his eye. “What?”

“The first time we had lunch. You told me that hairdressing was a job that you could do. That you had reasons you couldn’t do other things.”

“I tried out for an agency once. I stood there, in front of the panel, and I completely choked.”

“Choked? You practice for fake CMs in the bathroom. You’re, well, made for showbiz, Baekhyun.”

“I just looked at them, and nothing came out. Nothing. Before that, I thought I wanted to be a singer. After that, I wasn’t so sure.” Baekhyun’s toes curl into the sand, burrowing his feet underneath a thin layer of it. “I rehearsed and rehearsed and then I went back, but while I was waiting in line, I...” Baekhyun looks down, and rubs at the thin layer of hair on his legs. “My heart was beating so fast and I…”

Chanyeol lets himself fall onto his butt, even though the sand is wet beneath him and he’s wearing clean jeans.

“Somehow, it became impossible for me to sing in front of anyone,” Baekhyun says. “It became time to choose a different job.”

“Like hairdressing,” Chanyeol says, and for the first time since Chanyeol had found him, Baekhyun smiles. Chanyeol’s stomach churns.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

“Because,” Chanyeol says, “we’re friends.” And a larger wave comes to shore, close enough to wet his feet and the ankles of his jeans. “Friends can tell each other stuff, right?”

“Right,” Baekhyun says, and this time, when he smiles, his eyes disappear into crescents and his laughter, afterwards, is relieved and mellow and like its own sort of music.

“You really are a happy virus,” Baekhyun says later, as they walk back to the house.

“Do you feel infected?” Chanyeol asks, and Baekhyun shoves at him, and Chanyeol gets lost, for just a moment, in the brightness of Baekhyun’s eyes.

“Totally,” he replies, and Chanyeol follows him inside, to a chorus of voices telling them dinner is ready, and Chanyeol’s feeling bit under the weather himself.

*

“Baekhyun is nice,” Kyungsoo says, and Chanyeol looks up from his book.

“He is,” Chanyeol replies hesitantly, stretching his legs out on the bed.

“I think he’s a good match for you.” Chanyeol’s eyes drop back down to his book, but the text is almost blurred. He can’t focus at all.

“That’s why we’re friends, isn’t it?” Chanyeol blinks to clear his vision. “I mean, as opposed to the previous situation, which was Baekhyun in a gold jacket stalking me at concerts while I pretended not to notice him.”

“He’s a really good-looking guy, too,” Kyungsoo says, typing on his laptop, and Chanyeol swallows.

“He is,” Chanyeol says, and Kyungsoo’s fingers pause on the keys, and Chanyel can feel Kyungsoo’s gaze burning into him. “What?”

‘You just… You didn’t even qualify that.” Kyungsoo looks mildly shocked, but as usual, Chanyeol isn’t sure.

“What are you talking about?” Chanyeol says, closing his book, since it’s obvious he won’t be getting any reading done. “Qualify what?”

“You didn’t even measure his attractiveness against your own,” Kyungsoo says. “I think you might be smitten.”

“I’m not smitten.” Chanyeol runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “I’ve just realized that I don’t need to add the obvious to every statement, is all.” Chanyeol pushes up his red tortoise shell glasses and frowns. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“I think,” Kyungsoo says, ignoring Chanyeol’s rebuttal, “that you aren’t even thinking about your own attractiveness when you’re looking at Baekhyun. It’s like your narcissism is overpowered by your attraction to him-“

“Nothing can overpower my narcissism,” Chanyeol says. “Not even this perm. I can’t wait until it grows out enough to cut it.”

“Don’t change the subject,” Kyungsoo says. “The point is, you like him.”

“I just want to be friends with him,” Chanyeol insists. “I have no interest in-“

“Not everyone sucks like your ex-girlfriend, Chanyeol. Not everyone is waiting for you to let your guard down so they can pulverize your self-confidence.”

“My self-confidence is untouchable,” Chanyeol says shortly, slamming his book closed. “As is my heart.”

“You’re being stubborn,” Kyungsoo says lightly. “But I won’t tease you about it.” Kyungsoo resumes typing on his keyboard. “But I’d tone it down on the long walks on the beach and the cuddling. Kai isn’t as… understanding as I am.”

“We don’t cuddle.” It’s just that Chanyeol gets cold, when he’s sleeping. That’s all.

“Okay,” Kyungsoo says. “Fine.”

Baekhyun walks in as Chanyeol readies his response, and Chanyeol snaps his mouth shut.

“Am I interrupting something?” Baekhyun asks, and Chanyeol sighs.

“No,” Chanyeol says. “Just my roommate being silly.”

“You want to go for a walk?” Baekhyun catches sight of himself in the mirror and he fusses with his hair, and Chanyeol likes the way the bangs fall across Baekhyun’s forehead. “It’s really gorgeous, and the worst of the sun has passed. I thought, since it’s our last day…”

Chanyeol would love to go for a walk, especially with Baekhyun, who seems to belong among the sand dunes and the waves with his laughter and expressively waving hands. But Kyungsoo’s words are rolling around in his head and Chanyeol sucks his lower lip into his mouth.

“I’ll pass,” he says, and he catches the quick-falling expression on Baekhyun’s face before it’s replaced with his signature grin.

“Okay,” Baekhyun says, and Chanyeol wants to go. Kyungsoo looks at him speculatively, before his lips quirk up in a smug expression that is alarming on his face.

“I’ll go with you, Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo says. “I’ve been wanting to chat with you anyway."

As they leave, Chanyeol just feels more confused.

*

They’re all exhausted as they pile back into taxis at the end of the trip, heading to the station to catch the train back to Seoul. Once on the train, everyone goes to sleep except Chanyeol, who watches the countryside out the window and ponders the weight of Baekhyun’s head on his shoulder, and the weight of his feelings sitting heavy in his stomach.


Maybe Chanyeol’s just getting too close to Baekhyun too fast. Maybe he just needs space.

*

After skipping a week, the crowd seems larger than usual, swelling out the doors and spilling into the bar area, and Chanyeol is high off the noise and the adrenaline.

Sehun seems into it too, and Kai can’t stop himself from dancing, a little, gyrating his hips in a way that’s probably giving Suho nightmares as Kyungsoo croons one of their newer songs into the mic, Chanyeol dropping some low-voiced rhymes into the background.

Chanyeol keeps his eyes fixed on the front row, but he catches glimpses of Baekhyun’s gold jacket throughout the show. It makes Chanyeol’s heart flutter at the same time as it makes him nervous.

Chanyeol is never nervous.

This is all way too complicated.

After the show, Baekhyun walks up to the stage, where everyone greets him warmly. Chanyeol fiddles with his shoelaces instead of speaking.

Space.

“You must be really busy,” Baekhyun says. “This week.” Suho looks up, interested, and Chanyeol doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes. “Since you’ve been ignoring my texts.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Lots of unexpected coursework.”

“I see,” Baekhyun says. “You’re not wearing eyeliner.”

“I’m so handsome it doesn’t matter,” Chanyeol says. “Number One Korean Representative of Attractive Man, here.”

“I know,” Baekhyun says, and his jacket sparkles. Chanyeol can still feel Suho watching, but he’s more concerned with the way Baekhyun is insecurely shifting his weight from foot to foot. Chanyeol hates it, because he knows it’s his fault.

It’s just that every time he sees Baekhyun’s name on his mobile, telling him he’s got an incoming text message, he remembers the way Baekhyun’s voice had sounded, that evening on the beach, and Chanyeol feels so lost. He’s not supposed to like Baekhyun like that.

But he also isn’t, probably, supposed to make his friend feel sad because he can’t control his own feelings.

Chanyeol’s a big kid. He can do this. And even though it’s only been a couple of months, Baekhyun’s important to him, somehow.

“You wanna get coffee?” Chanyeol asks, and Baekhyun visibly brightens.

“I’d love too,” Baekhyun says.

*

Before Chanyeol knows it, summer turns to autumn, the transition lost in a sea of midterms and coffee shops and Friday night gigs.

Somehow, Chanyeol thinks, in the past three months, his life has transformed. At the root of it all is Baekhyun, who teases and smiles and giggles his way into Chanyeol’s daily life like he’s always been there, charming all of Chanyeol’s friends and filling Chanyeol’s mobile with pointless messages about hair care products he should probably try to help the ’mess on his head’ or weird selcas of himself with various people he works with.

And Chanyeol finds himself at Baekhyun’s apartment more evenings than not, so much that Suho starts asking him if he’s spending his evenings selling himself or drugs on the street-corner for extra spending money, and if that’s why he doesn’t have any time for his friends.

Chanyeol ties his shoelaces together as revenge, but it does make Chanyeol realize how much of his every day is wrapped up in Baekhyun, a man that Chanyeol only knew as Gold Jacket Guy a few months ago, that Chanyeol had somehow converted from a fan to a friend.

After his final photography class on Wednesday, Chanyeol decides to walk all the way to Sinchon from Hongdae, because cool autumn evenings are relaxing. Chanyeol’s looking forward to playing gigs in this weather, where it won’t feel like he’s sweating out all the moisture in his body and sacrificing it to the gods of punk music. He’d always thought he was supposed to sacrifice tears, not perspiration.

Baekhyun answers the door moments after he knocks, and invites Chanyeol inside. Chanyeol slips out of his shoes and follows Baekhyun to the kitchen, where Baekhyun pours him a glass of water. “You walked, right?”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says, and as he drinks, his eyes take in the various jars on the countertop. One of them is a weird star-shaped one. Chanyeol looks inside it, and it’s empty. “What’s this one for?”

”That’s the jar I keep my cookies in,” Baekhyun says. “Isn’t it cute?”

“No,” Chanyeol says. “It’s ridiculous.”

“Meanie.”

”I love those cookies, though,” Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun hops up and down excitedly.

”I could teach you,” Baekhyun says. “In exchange for helping me move my new table in next week.”

“That’s nothing,” Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun nods.

“So is this.”

”What do I do?” Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun laughs, walking around Chanyeol, pulling sugar and brown sugar out of the cabinet, leaving Chanyeol to stand uselessly in the middle of the kitchen getting in the way.

He plops a bowl in front of Chanyeol, and then pats his shoulder. “You’re the mixing man.”

“Okay,” Chanyeol says, and rolls up his sleeves. Baekhyun pours white sugar into a measuring cup, and hands it to Chanyeol.

“Add this, and then the same amount of brown sugar,” he says, and Chanyeol nods, following instructions. Baekhyun dumps other things in the bowl, and Chanyeol recognizes one as flour and one as baking soda. Then the chocolate chips. After that he cracks two eggs into the mixture, and some oil and butter, and it creates a pile of stuff that Chanyeol is hard-pressed to think makes cookies.

”So what am I supposed to do with this?” Chanyeol says, looking at the goop in the bowl. “How does this become cookies?”

“You really are hopeless,” Baekhyun says. “You’re the mixing man. You have to mix.”

“With, like, a spoon?” Baekhyun emphatically shakes his head, and Chanyeol tilts his head to look at him confusedly. “Then…”

“With your hands, silly,” Baekhyun says, and he takes Chanyeol’s hands into his own, before he plunges them into the batter.

“Cold!” Chanyeol yelps, and Baekhyun smirks.

“Now mix,” he says, and Chanyeol frowns at him.

“Can you get my watch?” He says. “I should have taken it off.”

“Sure,” Baekhyun says, and he makes Chanyeol keep his hands over the bowl as he moves closer, his chest pressing into Chanyeol’s arm, and his hands sliding up Chanyeol’s forearm until they reach his watch. Baekhyun’s nails scratch lightly on Chanyeol’s wrist, and it tickles, and Chanyeol tries to keep from squirming until Baekhyun gets the watch off. Baekhyun darts his eyes up at Chanyeol’s face, amused. “Does it tickle?”

“Just a little,” Chanyeol says.

“There we go.”

“Thanks.” And then Chanyeol is mixing the dough, the eggs squelching between his fingers and the butter melting and it’s gross, and when he looks up at Baekhyun, he’s smirking in this self-satisfied way that makes Chanyeol want to hit him. “I can’t believe you do this all the time.”

“I usually use a spoon,” Baekhyun says nonchalantly, and Chanyeol sputters as Baekhyun starts to laugh, and Chanyeol lifts one of his dough-covered hands and wipes a huge dab of cookie dough right on Baekhyun’s nose.

‘You know that this is war, right?” Baekhyun says, and he’s excitedly peering at Chanyeol with a faux angry expression.

“What-“ Chanyeol starts to ask, but then Baekhyun drops his own hand in the bowl of dough, and wipes a handful of it down the side of Chanyeol’s face. “Oh no you didn’t,” Chanyeol says, and then they’re wrestling across the kitchen, wielding handfuls of dough, making messes of each other’s faces and clothes. “I am way too good-looking to put up with this!”

Baekhyun’s laughing loudly, and he tries to escape by running into the living room, but Chanyeol instinctively reaches out and wraps his arms around Baekhyun’s waist, pulling him back against his chest. Chanyeol’s heart is beating fast with laughter and adrenaline, and Baekhyun squirms against him, trying to pull free. Chanyeol suddenly realizes how close they are when Baekhyun speaks.

‘Truce, truce,” he says, and Chanyeol lets go and steps back. “I think we wasted half the dough.”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says, and his t-shirt has a stripe across it, and there are chocolate chips in his bangs. “Just about half, I’d say.” Baekhyun’s just got the bit on his nose, and there are handprints of butter grease across the stomach of his own shirt. “And I think most of it’s on me.”

Baekhyun crosses the kitchen to the sink and wets a hand towel, and the walks back over to Chanyeol. “Hold still,” he says, and Chanyeol nods, and Baekhyun raises the towel to his face. He slowly wipes the dough off, bit by bit, and Chanyeol finds himself holding his breath. “There we go.”

“Thanks,” Chanyeol says, and his voice crackles embarrassingly like he’s still in the middle of puberty. His hands settle on Baekhyun’s waist, for a lack of a better place to put them, and Baekhyun pauses for a moment, before the towel resumes its slow cleaning.

‘No problem,” Baekhyun says, and then he steps back. Chanyeol lets his hands fall to his sides. “Should we finish the cookies?”

‘Yeah,” Chanyeol says, and before he can stop himself, he reaches up and wipes his thumb over Baekhyun’s nose, wiping off the cookie dough, and brings it to his mouth. “It’s good,” he says, and Baekhyun looks at him with wide eyes before he releases a laugh that sounds forced, and turns back to the cookies. He grabs a spoon, and tells Chanyeol to bring over the cookie sheets.

“Each cookie is a spoon of dough,” he says, and Chanyeol takes over as Baekhyun watches. Finally, they’re done, and Chanyeol drags his finger across the edge of the bowl, cleaning the lip and eating the dough left on his finger.

“This is so good.” He dips his finger in again, and Baekhyun grabs his wrist.

“Let me taste it,” he says, but Chanyeol already has it on his finger.

“Too late, I got it already,” Chanyeol says, thinking it’s his turn to be smug, and Baekhyun pulls Chanyeol’s wrist upward and sucks Chanyeol’s finger in between his lips.

They both freeze for a moment, and Chanyeol’s heart is in his throat as Baekhyun’s tongue slowly glides around his finger, licking it clean.

Chanyeol can’t breathe as Baekhyun releases his finger and drops his wrist. “Delicious,” he says, voice shaking, and Chanyeol takes a step back, and then another.

"I have to go,” he says, and Baekhyun tries to grab for him but Chanyeol is faster.

“Chanyeol, wait!” Baekhyun calls out, but Chanyeol is already slipping into his shoes and practically running out the door. The autumn wind is cool, blowing against Chanyeol’s impossible hot skin, and Chanyeol can’t seem to catch his breath. The way Baekhyun’s mouth had felt… Chanyeol is unsettled, thrown off-balance by Baekhyun once again.

Chanyeol feels like he’s constantly being unbalanced by Baekhyun, who’s got a way of worming himself inside Chanyeol’s heart and making it beat faster than it should.

People stare at him on the metro, and Chanyeol knows it’s because he smells like chocolate chip cookie dough, and because there are chocolate chips in his hair, and maybe because Chanyeol’s not even making an effort to control his face right now so he has no idea what expression is on it.

Kyungsoo is watching Bambi when he gets home, and he looks up as Chanyeol slams the door and collapses face first onto his bed, uncaring that he’s covering it in cookie dough remnants.

“Are you… having a crisis?” Kyungsoo asks, and he sounds dubious. “Should I call someone who is good at this?”

“No,” Chanyeol says, and now that his heart has stopped racing like a jackrabbit, the way Baekhyun had called after him, that panic in his voice, is making Chanyeol feel sick, like he wants to throw up. The taste of cookie dough lingers on his lips and tongue. “I would like to crisis alone, thanks.”

“If you’re sure,” Kyungsoo says, and then he starts watching Bambi again, leaving Chanyeol alone with his thoughts.

Chanyeol should probably… call Baekhyun. And say… something, but he isn’t sure what. He should probably apologize for running out and leaving the entire mess in his kitchen for him to clean up, or maybe Chanyeol should just apologize for running out in general, only he thinks it’s the only thing he could have done, in the moment.

He reaches down into his pocket, and there’s nothing there.

He’d set the phone, he remembers, on the coffee table at Baekhyun’s.

“Shit,” he says, and Kyungsoo pauses the movie again.

“What’s wrong?” Kyungsoo says, and Chanyeol presses his face into the pillow. “I forgot my phone at Baekhyun’s apartment.”

“Ah. Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo says. “I see.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chanyeol says, flopping over on his bed to face Kyungsoo instead of the wall. “Why did you say it like that?”

“No reason,” Kyungsoo says, not glancing up from his laptop.

“You totally had a reason-“ There’s a knock on their door, and Kyungsoo stands up to answer it.

“It’s for you,” he says, and it’s Baekhyun, carrying a bag. “I’m going to Kai’s.”

“Okay,” Chanyeol says quietly, as Kyungsoo lets Baekhyun in, and grabs his wallet and keys, before leaving the two of them alone in the dorm room.

Baekhyun is silent, which is weird, because Baekhyun is never silent. Even when he’s nervous, he chatters, filling quiet spaces with his mellifluous voice until they’re both at ease. But Baekhyun is just rocking back and forth on his feet, staring at the floor and clutching the plastic bag as hard as he can, knuckles white.

“You forgot your phone,” he says finally, reaching smoothly into his pocket and pulling out Chanyeol’s mobile.

“Thanks,” Chanyeol says.

The quiet is terrible.

“I’m-“

“I just… I’m sorry for running out-“

“No,” Baekhyun says. “It’s my fault. I didn’t-“

“We could both be sorry,” Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun sits down on the edge of Chanyeol’s bed, back to Chanyeol. Chanyeol sits up to make room.

“I’m not… I know you don’t want anything else but friendship,” Baekhyun says. Chanyeol’s never heard him sound so melancholy. “I’m not sticking around just because I’m hoping you’ll change your mind. I’m sticking around because I like you. I just… I like you. I like spending time with you. I’m sorry if I-“ Baekhyun’s back shakes, and without thinking, Chanyeol wraps his arms around him, pulling Baekhyun close and resting his chin on Baekhyun’s shoulder, readjusting himself so that his legs are on either side of Baekhyun’s.

“I like spending time with you too,” Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun shudders in his arms, so Chanyeol holds him a little tighter. “I’m sorry if that’s selfish.”

“It’s not,” Baekhyun says. “Suho told me about your old girlfriend.”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says. “It might be weak or melodramatic of me, but I-“

“Your feelings are your feelings,” Baekhyun says. “Just… I want to stay friends with you. I really do.”

“Me too,” Chanyeol says.

Baekhyun leans forward and grabs the plastic bag off of Chanyeol’s desk. “I finished the cookies,” he says, and Chanyeol laughs, and reaches into the bag to pull one out, keeping one arm firmly around Baekhyun’s torso.

“I’m still wearing the cookies.”

“I noticed,” Baekhyun says, and Chanyeol takes a big bite of the cookie.

It’s sweet, and Chanyeol feels a bit nauseous with indecision.

*

“You look really miserable,” Lu Han says, and Sehun’s eyebrows rise as he rings up a to-go order at the register. “You’re a college student taking four classes, and you don’t have a significant-other or money problems. Your life cannot possibly be that bad.”

Chanyeol sighs and drops his head to the counter. “More tea.”

“Not until you tell me what’s bothering you.” Lu Han chuckles. “And if it’s really dumb, you’ll have to give me ten to fifteen minutes to laugh at your expense before I make it.”

“Sour Apple?” Sehun interrupts, and Chanyeol lifts his head to give him a thankful look.

“Thank you, maknae. You’re good people. You and Tiffany.”

“You’re interfering in my blackmail,” Lu Han teases, brushing Sehun’s bangs from his face. Sehun flushes and quickly turns away. “That’s alright, because Chanyeol will tell me everything anyway.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Chanyeol says. “Absolutely nothing.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Baekhyun asks, resting his palm against Chanyeol’s neck. Chanyeol leans unconsciously into the touch, before he remembers that he’s not supposed to want to do that. He shrugs Baekhyun’s hand away and smiles up at him.

Lu Han curiously scrunches his nose, before he snorts. “Absolutely nothing.” He immediately reaches for a glass. “Lychee?”

“Yes, please,” Baekhyun says. “You look sleepy.” He doesn’t look at Chanyeol, but Chanyeol knows he’s talking to him, because Lu Han has moved out of earshot.

Baekhyun’s been having a bit of trouble looking him in the eyes since last week. Maybe it’s because of the cookie incident, as Chanyeol’s started to call it. In his head. Where Kyungsoo can’t hear him. Chanyeol thinks it’s probably because Chanyeol talked to him about being just friends and then had gone and fallen asleep on the other man, curled up into his side like a girl.

When Chanyeol had woken up, Baekhyun had fallen asleep too, one hand buried in Chanyeol’s hair and the other wrapped gently around Chanyeol’s arm, holding him close but not forcing him to stay there.

Chanyeol had basically been the little spoon.

Chanyeol blushes just thinking about it.

Sehun quietly leaves his tea, and Chanyeol is grateful for his circumspection, even if he’ll just tease Chanyeol more subtly later.

“Are you free today?” Baekhyun asks, and Chanyeol considers. He’s got a ton of homework for advanced music theory, and even more for English 103. But Baekhyun, even though he’s staring at the counter and not at Chanyeol, has a hopeful tilt to his lips, and Chanyeol, for all the nervous energy swirling like crazy in his belly, and his kilometer long to-do list, can’t bring himself to let it fall.

“I can be,” Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun’s eyes flicker and meet his for just a moment, before Lu Han loudly sets lychee bubble tea in front of Baekhyun.

“Cheer him up, please,” Lu Han says to Baekhyun.

“I’ll do my best,” Baekhyun replies with faux –solemnity, and then he takes a big sip of tea. He glances quickly at Chanyeol again, and licks his lips. “Want to take a drive?”

“You have a car?”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says. “I thought today seemed a nice day for a drive.”

“I’d love to,” Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun’s not wearing the make-up again, and Chanyeol’s beginning to wonder if Baekhyun knows how attractive he is.

Not that Chanyeol is paying attention.

“Then finish your tea,” Baekhyun says, and Chanyeol scrambles in his wallet for three-thousand won, and drops it on the table.

“They gave us plastic cups,” Chanyeol says. “We can walk with them.”

He ignores Lu Han’s stare as they leave the shop, and he ignores the way his heart rate increases every time Baekhyun’s arm brushes his own, too.

*

Baekhyun sings along to the radio under his breath, the sweet sound of his voice shining even when he barely voices it.

Chanyeol wishes he’d sing a little louder, but knows better than to say anything.

“It’s been a long time since I was in a car that’s not a taxi,” Chanyeol says. “Where are we going?”

“Out of the city and into the countryside. Tons of barely used roads out there.”

“I see.” Chanyeol leans his head against the window. The autumn leaves rustle in large piles on the side of the road, and Chanyeol likes the colors. They remind him of Baekhyun’s hair, with the reds and browns mixing together to make a pretty russet color.

“It’s more fun to drive in places with fewer cars… Sometimes I just like to drive.”

“It’s nice,” Chanyeol says, and he rolls down the window and lets the wind hit him in the face.

“You’re so goofy,” Baekhyun says, and Chanyeol looks over at him. The mid afternoon sun is still fierce, and Baekhyun’s sunglasses sit low on his nose.

“I feel free,” Chanyeol says. “I don’t know, relaxed. Sometimes when the stress gets to me-“

“I understand.” Baekhyun sighs and pulls over to the side of the road. Chanyeol looks over at him in surprise. “Chanyeol, I-“

Chanyeol opens the door, and sticks his long legs out of the car, kicking at leaves and letting cool autumn air into the car. Chanyeol’s warm enough in his sweater, though. “What’s up?” Chanyeol says, when Baekhyun doesn’t continue.

“I’m sorry,” Baekhyun says, after a long pause. “About the cookies, and about… sleeping, and… About everything. I really do just. I just like you, and I promise to be a better friend.”

“You’re a great friend,” Chanyeol says. “Believe me.”

“Okay,” Baekhyun says. “Still, I guess I-“ Baekhyun coughs, and Chanyeol turns to look at him. “I was worried, because you seemed sort of distant-“

“You’re the one who won’t look me in the eyes.”

Baekhyun frowns down at the steering wheel, before he gathers himself and meets Chanyeol’s gaze. “That’s because your hair is so awful I just can’t bear it. I think it might have animals living in it-“

“Shut up, Bacon, I’m flawless,” Chanyeol says, and the tension is broken, both of them laughing.

“What did you call me?” Baekhyun stutters out between giggles, and Chanyeol is so relieved at the relaxed lines of Baekhyun’s face.

Chanyeol’s surprised to realize he missed that.

*

The first snow of winter doesn’t happen until January. Tao shows up at Tenren’s Tea House with a dusting of the white precipitation across his shoulders and dark hair. “Snowing,” he says, and Sehun looks outside with quiet excitement as Chanyeol rises from his seat.

Tao is looking hopefully at the two of them, and Chanyeol grins. “Want to play?”

Sehun waves at them a little sadly as they walk out the door, but Tiffany huffs and unties his apron.

“I can cover for a half an hour,” she says, and puts her hands on her hips. “Just go.”

Chanyeol cheers as Sehun comes running outside with them. There’s already an inch of snow on the ground, and it crunches underfoot. Chanyeol wraps his scarf a little tighter around his neck and sends a mass text to his friends, and Tao leads the way to the park where Chanyeol had first taken pictures with Baekhyun.

He’s surprised to see Suho standing there waiting for him.

“I was already in the area,” Suho says, and then he smiles. “I knew you children-” He’s struck silent as he’s hit in the face with a powdery handful of snow, and he sputters until it drips off his face.

“Oh, sorry,” Sehun says. “I only have a half an hour off to play, so I thought we should get started.”

“Why you little…” And then Suho’s jumped on Sehun’s back and they’re both laughing. Chanyeol watches them until Tao nudges him with an elbow.

“Bacon,” he says, and then Chanyeol feels an icy cold wetness crawling down his spine, and he spins around to see Baekhyun’s mischievous expression, hand still raised.

Chanyeol tackles him to the snow, and Baekhyun laughs the whole way down, interrupted by a huff as his back hits the ground, and his eyes are sparkling with amusement.

“Got ya.”

“I didn’t even hear you!”

“Sehun and Suho served as a perfect distraction. I just took advantage.”

“Am I interrupting something?” Kai asks, and Chanyeol realizes he’s straddling his friend, hands resting in the cold snow on either side of Baekhyun’s head and Baekhyun’s hips warm against the insides of his knees.

He scrambles off to the side, feeling inexplicably warm despite the cold, and Kai smirks.

“I shouldn’t have said anything until I took a picture.”

“Were you dropped on the head as a child?” Chanyeol mutters, purposefully not looking at Baekhyun, and Kai opens his mouth to respond, but he’s hit in the side of the face with a snowball.

“Forget about us, Jongin?”

It quickly devolves into a free-for-all, until they’re all left red and sweating despite the snow and winter chill.

“I have to go back to work,” Sehun says, lisp a little worse because he’s out of breath.

“I could use some hot tea,” Suho says, and Jongin feigns disinterest.

“Are you cold, old man? Weather getting down deep into your bones?”

Chanyeol ignores them both, and they head en masse to Tenren’s. Lu Han and Kyungsoo look at them like they’re crazy as they troop in, mostly wet and dripping on the floor. Tiffany rolls her eyes.

“The boys,” she says, and Kyunsoo snorts and taps away on his laptop. He closes the window as Chanyeol approaches, and Chanyeol stares bemusedly for a moment at his Amanda Seyfried wallpaper before he collapses into a seat. Sehun quickly puts his apron on and gets to work setting out mugs for them.

“This has been fun, but I have to go,” Baekhyun says. “This was my lunch break.”

He stands, and he shivers. Chanyeol notices that his neck is bare, and there’s a flush to the bit of his collarbones that peeks out of his sweater.

“Fasten your coat,” Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun blinks at him. Chanyeol stands, and leans forward, buttoning up Baekhyun’s peacoat and frowning down at how wet it feels. Without thinking, he unwraps his scarf from around his neck and wraps it around Baekhyun’s instead. Baekhyun doesn’t protest; he just bites down on his lower lip. “I’m just going home.” He steps back. “You have to walk back to work, and your clothes are wet.”

“Thanks,” Baekhyun says. “I’ll give it back later.” His voice catches strangely, and Chanyeol realizes he’s maybe gotten a little too close as Baekhyun trips a little over the words, and then Baekhyun's gone, back out into the winter snow. Chanyeol sits back down.

His friends are staring at him.

“You’re such an idiot,” Kyungsoo says.

“What?” Tiffany drops a plate of dumplings in the middle of the table, and Tao quickly grabs one and eats it.

Kai grins deviously, and opens his mouth to say something, and Kyungsoo groans before shoving a dumpling into Kai’s open mouth.

Suho, surprisingly, says nothing; he just looks at Chanyeol solemnly in a way Chanyeol is unused to, and quickly redirects the conversation to their plans to meet up at Suho’s place, later.

Chanyeol heads home to change into dry clothes and then walks slowly to Suho’s apartment, his hands in his pockets. The winter air fills his lungs, but Chanyeol doesn’t really notice, because he’s too busy thinking about the look on Baekhyun’s face as Chanyeol wound his scarf around his neck.

When Kai opens the door, Suho’s whole apartment smells like pizza. To Chanyeol’s surprise, Tao is here too, staring mesmerized at the screen.

“This isn’t real history,” he says to Chanyeol as Chanyeol plops down on the couch and grabs a slice.

“It’s Mulan,” Chanyeol says. “Of course it’s not real history.”

“Jongin, get out of my closet!” Chanyeol hears Suho yelling, and Chanyeol can’t stop himself from snickering a little, even though he’s trying to pay attention to the movie.

Eventually they all settle down, and somehow, the music sheets they’d meant to go over remain untouched, and Sehun somehow manages to eat an entire pizza by himself, quietly observing everything.

Suho looks over at Chanyeol for a moment, before he stands. “Anyone need something else to drink?”

“Me!” Kai says, and Tao raises his hand hopefully.

“Chanyeol, give me a hand, won’t you?”

“Sure,” Chanyeol says.

He follows Suho into the kitchen, where Suho pulls down the instant tea mix and starts refilling the pitcher with ice-water.

“Grab the ice-cubes,” Suho instructs.

“Okay.”

“It might be better to see less of Baekhyun. For both of you.” Suho has on the rare serious face as he stops mixing the tea, letting Chanyeol drop the ice-cubes in slowly, two and three at a time. “It’s a bit selfish, what you’re doing to him.”

“I’m barely twenty,” Chanyeol says. “I don’t know how to not be selfish.” Chanyeol sighs. “I don’t want to be not-selfish.”

“Then you’re just going to keep hurting him and hurting yourself,” Suho says. “Because you both want things that you claim you aren’t emotionally ready to have.” There’s an emphasis on claim that makes Chanyeol think that Suho has his own opinions.

“When did you get all… leader-like,” Chanyeol asks, and Suho smiles at him.

“I’ve been offering you wisdom all along, Chanyeol.” Suho pokes him in the side, and he jumps. “When are you going to listen about those rags you call t-shirts?”

“At least mine get that way through wear,” Chanyeol says. “Kai just buys his off the rack to show his nipples.”

“It’s time to grow up, don’t you think?” Suho says, after a long pause. “Sometimes being a man is making tough decisions. Growing out of that childhood selfishness.”

“Thanks,” Chanyeol says around the lump in his throat. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Great,” Suho says, serious expression giving away to a more playful grin. “So let’s go watch Disney movies!” Suho grabs the pitcher. “Mulan’s always been a favorite.”

The five of them huddle around Suho’s television and watch Mulan, and Chanyeol tries his best not to think about the way Baekhyun’s smile makes him want things he’s not supposed to want.

He fails, and Chanyeol needs to figure things out sooner rather than later.

*

Chanyeol thinks about Baekhyun a lot. More than is probably healthy. But in the end, he’s just in a strange sort of stalemate with himself that leaves him with more questions than he has answers.



part four