Archive of Our Own ^beta

“I go to the hills when my heart is lonely. I know I will hear what I’ve heard before. My heart will be blessed with the sound of music. And I’ll sing once more.”

- The Hills Are Alive (from The Sound of Music)

—now

Everything that went wrong in his life could be traced back to Oh Sehun, Chanyeol was certain of it.

An example of this would be when Sehun had once somehow convinced him that it was a good idea to have L-1485 tattooed on his forearms whilst he was drunk on his seventh bottle of cheap canned beer. Having a tattoo would have been fine. In fact, Chanyeol had been ruminating on whether to finally get himself a tattoo or not. No, getting a tattoo would have been fine—the problem was that the date on the tattoo was the date when his (now former) boyfriend had dumped him.

It’s been five years and he still isn’t sure what the L is for, up until now. He’ll have to ask Sehun about that. 

Another instance of Sehun fucking up his life would be when he had been in his last year of university. Sehun (being a year below him back then) had been the one to push him to audition as the Monday host of the university’s late-night radio station. It wasn’t exactly an unpleasant experience—quite the opposite in fact. He had gained a shit ton of experience which eventually led to him getting hired by a big company the moment he graduated. But what was a boon was also a bane of his existence.

After all, it was because of that radio hosting gig that had led him to meet that person.

But that is neither here nor there because his current situation is far more pressing and Oh Sehun, as per usual, is to blame.

Some would argue that being groped by a beautiful woman under the pretense of taking your measurements for a suit you’re having to get made for your best friend’s upcoming wedding isn’t the worst thing in the world. It wouldn’t have, really. But the thing is, Chanyeol has never acquired a taste for women, no matter how much his relatives would have wanted him to.

They were just… not for him. Too much x chromosomes and all that. 

Chanyeol clears his throat as he tries his hardest to shift away from the woman’s wandering hands. They were lowering quite a bit more than what he’s comfortable with. 

If Sehun hadn’t had the idea of getting down on one of his knees and asking for Jongdae’s hand in marriage, he wouldn’t have been in this situation. He wouldn’t have to have himself measured for a fucking suit.

He didn’t even know why he had to. He had plenty of suits that were more than fine. He wore a lot of suits for work, for fuck’s sake. But Jongdae, being Jongdae, had insisted (more like threatened to cut off his guitar strings, really) on making him wear a brand new one—a custom tailored one at that because he loved draining Chanyeol’s bank account as much as he loved draining the life out of his soon-to-be husband.

But Chanyeol doesn’t mean that. Jongdae is lovely. Probably the kindest person that Chanyeol knows (if we didn’t count his threatening abilities), and he knows how much he adores Sehun and vice versa. They were so in love it was kind of sickening, actually.

Chanyeol would complain all the time but he knows that he’d never really wish for their relationship to break, no matter how nauseating they can be. God knows how much Sehun has had to put up with him back then too.

“I can’t understand why we can’t just have a beach wedding or something,” Sehun grumbles beside him.

“You want a beach wedding?” Chanyeol asks as he tries to avoid the woman's groping hand. 

“No,” Sehun says as he fights off a yawn. The elderly woman that was measuring him swats at his arms when he tries to move them. “But at least there won’t be suits involved if it was one.”

Chanyeol grunts in response. Suits were horrible . Stuffy and all that. “Why don’t you just tell Jongdae that you don’t want to wear a suit then?”

Sehun looks at him incredulously. “Do you want me to lose my head? And it’s the one that you can see too. Probably.”

Chanyeol groans. “Could you please, for one day—just one, not remind me about the existence of your dick?”

“You’re supposed to like dicks,” Sehun scoffs and mutters something about Chanyeol being a broken gay or something. The taller man doesn’t even want to ask what that means.

“Not when it’s yours,”

“I’ll have you know, I have a perfectly nice dick.” Sehun retorts.

“Who said so?” Chanyeol snorts, not caring about the chiding look that the elderly women threw their way. Apparently, she didn’t like how casually they were talking about dicks. At least this topic seemed to have stopped the other woman’s groping hand on him. “Your husband?”

“Soon-to-be,” Sehun corrects. “And no actually, it was Baekhyun.”

Chanyeol freezes, standing so still that the woman taking his measurements takes a wary step away from him.

Sehun rolls his eyes. “It’s not like that, idiot. It was years ago, when I injured my arm and he had to help me shower, remember?”

Chanyeol relaxes, throwing another scoff. “Injured,” he whispers. “You broke your own arm while trying to prove you can parkour.”

“At least I didn’t break my dick while trying to have sex,” Sehun quipps.

Chanyeol squawks. “I didn’t break my dick! It was just—”

“A fracture. Yeah, Baekhyun complained to Jongdae about not having sex for eight months.”

Chanyeol pushes down the twitch on his chest at the mention of his ex and instead ruffles his own hair. “He was the one who insisted on trying to ride me,”

Sehun turns his head and looks at him. “You,” he clears his throat as if readying himself for something. “You know he’s most probably going to be there, right?”

Chanyeol nods, not looking back at him. “Jongdae’s his best friend. It would be weird if he wasn’t at the wedding.”

“Right,” Sehun nods before clearing his throat again. “Hey, do you think you could…”

“What?” Chanyeol eyes him then. He seems to be nervous about something. Sehun’s never nervous when it comes to Chanyeol. “Spit it out.”

“Do you—maybe—wanna be my best man?”

Chanyeol stares at him, stares at the way he’s squirming under his gaze.

Sehun, as much as he’s the source of almost all of Chanyeol’s misfortunes in life, is his best friend. One that has stuck by him since they first met in high school when Chanyeol had found Sehun trying to snort drugs on the back of a shady bar.

Looking back, Sehun had been so different back then. Always full of scrapes, seemingly unable to pull himself away from fights and confrontations with random thug heads. Now, Sehun is a respected attorney who tries his hardest to help juveniles and children from their shitty and abusive parents and households.

Chanyeol, more than anything—more than the dread of having to see his ex, wants to be beside his best friend too as he takes a huge step in his life.

“Of course, idiot.” Sehun visibly deflates, throwing him a lopsided grin that never fails to make Jongdae coo. “I’d expect you to be the best man in my wedding too.”

Sehun snorts. “That’s if you can find someone to marry.”

Chanyeol tries to lunge at him, pushing the thought of the inevitable meeting with his ex aside, and instead focuses on how happy his best friend is.

Turns out, seamstresses are allowed to poke you with their needles when you annoy them from moving too much.

X

Chanyeol takes a deep breath as he heaves his luggage from his trunk, arms not even straining from carrying two weeks worth of clothes and other necessities he deems necessary to bring.

He’s off work for two weeks in order to help Sehun and Jongdae with the wedding preparations. In a way, this would also serve as his vacation, a time off from his never ending workload that Sehun insists he’s burying himself too much in.

It wasn’t that Chanyeol lacked a life outside of work. He can—take time off of work, that is—it’s just that he doesn’t want to. There’d be no reason to, anyway. It’s not like he has someone to go home to at the end of the day. Or even just friends to catch up with. Sehun’s probably the only close friend he has left. (Jongdae doesn’t count because he’s still sometimes spiteful when talking to Chanyeol even though it’s been years .)

Now’s the perfect time to get that break that everyone insists he needs.

At least that’s what he expected he’d get from this little vacation.

That isn’t exactly what he gets though.

No. Because the moment Chanyeol steps into the lobby, he’s faced with the sudden realization that he failed to consider one variable into this whole vacation slash helping with the wedding thing. And that would be the fact that Byun Baekhyun—the other groom’s best friend and possible best man, as well as Chanyeol’s ex—would be in the same place, planning the same damn wedding.

The said Byun Baekhyun is currently sitting beside Jongdae and laughing at something the shorter man has said. 

He has a big laugh. It’s loud. It’s annoying. It’s pretty. It’s one of those you’d always remember because of how melodious it is.

And so Chanyeol stands there like an idiot, blocking the entrance as he continues to stare at Baekhyun like a creepy stalker. Because he, for the life of him, would never be able to avoid getting stunned every time he sees Baekhyun. 

It’s been three years, for fuck’s sake.

The torch he’s carrying for his ex should’ve long been put out by now.

But as it turns out, it hasn’t. Not even a fucking bit. Didn’t even budge or anything. It just… chose to remain dormant until it got a chance to see Baekhyun this close again.

God. Is he pathetic, or what?

“Yo, Yeol!” Chanyeol snaps out of his thoughts upon hearing his name, eyes immediately going towards Sehun who’s sitting right across Jongdae, arms waving around in the air like an idiot.

He’s not quite sure how Jongdae's still alive. If it were him dating Oh Sehun, he would’ve died from second hand embarrassment long ago.

“Fucking embarrassing,” He whispers underneath his breath, willing his eyes not to turn towards Baekhyun who he’s sure has noticed him now. Of course he has. Sehun has a loud ass mouth that deserves to be stapled together.

Steeling himself, he walks towards them and drops his things on the floor as he sits beside Sehun. He feels his eyes on him but he pretends not to notice. He has to act cool. As if he’s not affected by being this close to him after years of not seeing him. 

He has to. Or else he doesn’t know what he’ll do.

“What took you so long?” Sehun asks, breaking the weird silence that fell around them.

“We’ve already unpacked our things and all that.” Jongdae chides. Chanyeol turns to him, eyes carefully not straying towards Baekhyun.

“The place you chose to get married in is far as fuck. You know how annoying traffic can be on Saturdays.”

Jongdae rolls his eyes. “Maybe you should unpack first? You’d be in the room across uh…” He glances at his left for a bit—right where Baekhyun is. “…Baek.”

It’s inevitable, at this point. Chanyeol knows that. He knows that it was impossible not to look at him when he’s just sitting right there , keeping quiet but his presence is still loud enough to deafen Chanyeol anyway. 

And so he allows himself to look.

And he looks.

And God does he look. 

Because it’s been years and yet he’s as beautiful as the day Chanyeol left him. Except that there are no tear tracks on his cheeks. His brows are not furrowed in that soft frown that he does whenever he tries his best not to cry. His hands aren’t gripping the rumpled bed sheet around him.

Instead, there’s a hint of a dimmed smile on his lips. His eyes look unsure but so so clear that it pains Chanyeol to even stare at them.

“Hey, it’s been a while.” Baekhyun says. 

“Hey,” Chanyeol answers, voice seemingly stuck on his throat before he clears it. “Yeah, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”

“It’s because you’ve been avoiding me,” Baekhyun replies, a small smile on his face. 

Chanyeol doesn’t even know if he’s playing around or not so he says nothing, unable to come up with anything to say.

“I should’ve been the one avoiding you, y’know?” Baekhyun continues, his smile a lot sharper now. “You’re the one who left, right?”

Chanyeol averts his eyes.

“Too soon,” Sehun chokes, coughing.

“I’m kidding! Jesus. It’s been years, get over it.” Baekhyun laughs, rolling his eyes as he does so. 

Ah. This. He does not miss this. Does not miss how prickly Baekhyun can get. How mean he can be when he wants to. How he jabs at someone’s wound when he knows it would hurt. How petty and biting he can be when he wants to be.

He’s one of those people that others don’t want to cross, just because it’s a pain in the ass to deal with him. And that he knows exactly what to say for it to hurt. 

It’s nice to know that in those three years, some things still haven’t changed.

“Don’t make things awkward.” Jongdae tries to whisper but everyone hears it anyway.

“It’s fine. I’m sure these jokes won’t affect him anymore. It’s been three years, he’s moved on by now.”

“Yeah, I have.” Chanyeol says. He prays to all things holy that his voice does not waver. “And don’t worry about me. I had five years of practice to get used to his rudeness by now.”

In the five years that he was in a relationship with Baekhyun, he now knows not to roll over when he gets petty. He knows to fight back, to snap back and give him a taste of his own medicine. Because he hates that. Hates it when people snap back at him when he’s trying to poke a wound. 

And he’s absolutely right because the moment those words left his mouth, Baekhyun’s fingers immediately twitched—a telltale sign that he’s annoyed. His smile becomes more wooden too.

“Really? I’m the rude one?” Baekhyun asks. “Who arrived late again? Now we’re late for the dinner that I reserved.”

“It’s not my fault I got stuck in traffic!” Chanyeol answers back, jaw clenching. “Besides, d’you miss me that much? Reserving dinner for us and all that?”

Baekhyun turns so red that Chanyeol’s almost afraid he’d explode. “It’s a dinner reservation for all four of us, asshole. Don’t go ahead thinking I’d even want to spend time with you. ”

Chanyeol scoffs. “As if you don’t wan—”

“Settle down, children! For fuck’s sake, we’re here for our wedding, not for the two of you to act like you just got divorced.” Jongdae irritatedly says.

“Yeah children, settle down.” Sehun goads, laughing. 

Jongdae throws him a glare and that immediately shuts him up. “And because you both can’t seem to get enough of each other, why don’t the both of you go to the catering’s food tasting appointment tomorrow?”

Chanyeol blinks back in shock. He turns to Baekhyun who has the same stuppened look on his face.

He contemplates arguing and saying no but then he realizes that he values his life and that spending time with Baekhyun couldn’t be worse than Jongdae’s wrath.

Well, that’s certainly a goodbye to his much needed vacation.

X

When he had turned twenty-one, Chanyeol had thought that thirty was not that old anymore—at least not as old as how his sixteen year old self thought it to be. He had come to realize that there was more to life than the roaring youth of being in your twenties, that life truly does start at forty, or fifty, or even thirty. It doesn’t really matter, just that life is a long and winding road, one that is meant to be enjoyed and savored.

Now however—as he stares at his twenty-nine years old self—he wonders to himself why he thought that way. Why’d he thought that when he’d be in his late twenties and early thirties, he’d be in top shape, shining and glittering with the confidence of being an adult—a proper one. 

It’s obvious now that that isn’t quite what happened. He stares at his slumped shoulders and the tired set of his eyes. He doesn’t have wrinkles yet, isn’t old enough to have them yet, but he thinks he will have them soon—what with the stress that his job brings him.

He should be proud, having achieved so much in his life. He should be. Anyone in his position would.

But for some reason, he just feels empty.

The sight of Baekhyun after three years of not seeing him had unexpectedly brought about a fresh wave of hurt and longing that Chanyeol thought he had buried under a humongous rug years ago.

But he’s not here to wallow in self pity, is he? He’s here to help his best friend with their wedding preparations and that’s exactly what he’s gonna do.

Even if he has to interact with Baekhyun as he does it too.

And so he straightens himself out and steps out of the room, shoulder resolute and sure of himself.

That is until he catches sight of Baekhyun who’s also stepping out of his room.

“For fuck’s sake,” The smaller man mutters under his breath. “It’s too early for me to be seeing your face, Park.”

Chanyeol rolls his eyes and walks down the hallway, trying his best not to touch shoulders with Baekhyun who’s also walking down the hallway. “I could say the same to you.”

He knows he looks stupid walking in the hallway with his shoulders grazing against the wall when there’s plenty of space available but it’s not like anyone’s seeing him right now.

Apart from Baekhyun, that is.

Baekhyun who’s currently looking at him as if he’s crazy. “I don’t have any communicable diseases, Park. You’re not gonna die if you breathe in the same air as me.”

“Really? Because last time I checked, I caught my chickenpox from you.”

“Wasn’t my fault you insisted on sucking faces with me even if you knew I had it.”

Chanyeol splutters, choking on nothing as he tries to deny the smaller man’s words. “I did not ! You were the one who wanted fucking cuddles.”

“Yeah, cuddles. But you’re the one who wanted to make out. I remember you saying how ‘it’ll be fine’ and that you ‘wouldn’t catch it’.”

“Nice to know I’m still on your mind then.” Chanyeol snickers.

“Hard not to when you broke my heart and left me alone in an apartment we both shared.” Baekhyun says before he shuts his mouth, face scrunching up and looking all for the world like he didn’t mean to blurt that out. 

And maybe he didn’t.

Because while Baekhyun is mean, Chanyeol knows he isn't downright cruel.

At least he just hopes that the three years haven't changed that fact.

Silence filled the room then, a heavy tension settling in and replacing the heated banter that they had earlier.

Now, it’s just one awkward walk where they had to go down to where Jongdae and Sehun were at the breakfast buffet, all the while pretending that their earlier conversation did not happen. 

X

The air is stilted when they reach the buffet with Sehun and Jongdae there, and gets even more stilted when they’re left alone to check up on the catering services.

They’re not exactly avoiding each other but they’re also not talking which makes it harder because they’re supposed to be communicating in order to agree or disagree about the food.

Instead, they’re sitting across from each other as they wait for the restaurant staff to give them the food that they’re supposed to sample.

“For fuck’s sake. This is ridiculous.” Baekhyun blurts out, eyes not meeting Chanyeol’s and is solely trained on the table in front of them. “If you really don’t want to be here, just leave, Park. I can handle this myself.”

“So you could snitch and tell Jongdae that I bailed on this?” Chanyeol replies. And perhaps he is being a tad bit childish but could you really blame him? Something about Baekhyun always gets underneath his skin. “No way in hell am I risking it, Byun. We both know that if you can be mean, Jongdae can be even meaner.”

“What, you scared of someone half your size?” Baekhyun snorts. That’s also the moment when the staff places the food in front of them. “And I won’t snitch. What do you take me for?”

“I don’t trust you to make these decisions on your own. You know how important this is for them.”

“This is my best friend’s dream wedding which I’ll have you know, he’s told me about before he even met your best friend. I know what I’m doing.” Baekhyun looks at him with a deadly look in his eyes. “And if since we’re talking about trust here, maybe you should keep it in mind that I’m the one that shouldn’t be trusting you .”

Maybe three years has changed his level of cruelty after all.

But maybe, just maybe, the venom in Baekhyun’s words also comes from the way Chanyeol ended their relationship years ago. Changed because of the way he left Baekhyun three years ago.

Abrupt, unkind, and with no intention to ever look back.

—then

Byun Baekhyun is proud to say that he’s never had a problem with talking to people. No, he’s got no problem with conversing. It’s just that he doesn’t want to.

Anti-social. That’s what other people have dubbed him as. Idiots, the lot of them. They seemed to have no idea what being an introvert meant. But Baekhyun’s not too bothered by what people call him, because why should he? It’s not like their words could actually affect his life, right?

Baekhyun has enough social interactions with Jongdae alone. You could count Kyungsoo (his seatmate in most classes) in that too, if the other boy even bothers to talk. 

Right. Baekhyun’s got no problem with socializing.

But that doesn’t mean socializing still isn’t a pain in the butt every time he’s forced to do it.

Well, ordering food in a coffee shop wouldn’t be considered socializing for other people but for Baekhyun, it is. He’d have to talk to someone when he’s currently in his coffee-less state which Jongdae has said a million times before, does NOT bode well. He’s a bitch when he’s got no coffee in his system, according to the younger man.

“Fuck,” Baekhyun whispered under his breath when the person in front of him moved to the side, forcing him to step into the counter. “I’ll have the cold brew, if you have it.

“We don’t,” the man at the counter answered. He’s got a bandaid on his left cheek. He didn’t look like the type who’d work in a coffee shop.

Baekhyun blinked blearily as he finally registered the words, eyes narrowing down a bit. “What do you mean you don’t?”

“We don’t have ‘cold brew’.”

Baekhyun’s lips turned down into a frown. How the fuck can a coffee shop have no cold brew? “That’s impossible. How can a coffee shop have no cold brew?”

“Because we don’t have it,” the man said slowly, as if Baekhyun was stupid for not understanding. “Are you gonna order or not? Cause, you’re like, holding up the line.”

What in the fucking—

“What do you have available then?” Baekhyun grumbled. He needs coffee and he’s going to get it, asshole person at the counter or not.

“We have Americano, if you want something bitter.”

Jesus.

“Ameri—Isn’t that the same as a cold brew?” Baekhyun pressed a finger against his temple, annoyance starting to creep in into his voice.

“Nope, cold brew’s steeped longer or some shit like that. I don’t know man, I just take orders. I don’t make the coffee.” The man boredly said, “So you gonna order or what?”

Baekhyun glared at the man and nodded, sighing as he did so. “Fucking yeah, I’ll order one…” Baekhyun’s eyes traced the man’s face to his chest where his name tag is. “…Sehun.”

Sehun gave the fakest smile ever known to mankind, not even pretending to be good at his customer service job. “That’ll be two sixty-five.”

Baekhyun fumbled around his pockets and gave the amount needed. He heard Sehun mumble something about work being annoying and a man named ‘Yol’ before he fully stepped out of line and stood to the side. 

God. That was so much more socializing than he wanted. 

“Baek!” A voice suddenly screamed. A few people turned to look. Baekhyun wanted to bury himself in a pile of blankets and never get up again.

The person who called ran towards him. Baekhyun sighed. It was too early to be dealing with Jongdae and his loud ass.

“What.” He snapped as soon as the man reached him.

Jongdae only smiled wider. “You look like shit,”

“Thanks,”

“You’re welcome,” Jongdae said as he looped his arms with Baekhyun. “Have you finished your thought paper?”

Baekhyun groaned and shook his head. He really doesn’t want to talk about pending work so early in the morning. 

“Me too! Let’s do it together later at the library.” Baekhyun only grunted in response and took his order when he was called. “Your roommate’s moving in later, right?” Jongdae said, eyes not even looking at Baekhyun and instead is fixated on Sehun who looked back with an uninterested face.

Roommate.

Fuck. His roommate. He almost forgot he’d be meeting them today.

“Nghhh,” Baekhyun garbled as he took a sip of his coffee, eyes closing at the bitterness. Fucking perfect.

At least this day’s slightly turning out better because of the coffee. Hopefully, it wouldn’t end like a fucking shit show.

X

It turns out he spoke too soon.

Baekhyun hated having a roommate.

He hadn’t met his own yet but judging by the muffled thud and the sound of someone cursing a few feet away from his room (possibly in the living room), he could only assume that the person who entered the apartment was his new roommate. 

Apparently, his new roommate liked to let himself in at—Baekhyun turned towards the small clock he had perched on his side table— fucking three o’clock in the morning.

Jesus Christ. The guy must work at a club or something.

Now awake and unable to go back to sleep, he forced himself to stand so he could go and greet the person he’d be splitting the rent bill with. Might as well get acquainted and all that.

Baekhyun opened the door to his room, took a few steps into the lit living room, and leaned on the wall beside him. He took in his new roommate (or a possible burglar, he’s not quite sure) who hadn't noticed him yet, currently clutching his right foot with a small wobbly and teary frown on his face.

He’s tall. Awfully tall. Baekhyun already hated him.

“I’m Byun Baekhyun,” Baekhyun blurted out and watched as his roommate spluttered, long gangly arms coming up to hold a hand to his heart. “And you are?”

The guy only stared at him, big wide eyes looking flustered and surprised at seeing Baekhyun’s slumped form on the wall.

“You’re not a burglar, are you? Because then I’d have to report you and I’m honestly not in the mood to talk to the landlady right now. She can be a bitch when she’s woken up from her sleep.”

“I’m not!” The guy said. More like shriek, really.

Awfully deep voice despite the shriek. Baekhyun blinked. He hated him even more now. 

“You’re not what? God, are you unable to talk for more than a few words or something?”

“I can!” The guy spluttered. “I mean—Park Chanyeol. I’m Park Chanyeol. And I live here now, I guess?” he gestured towards the heaps of luggages and items on his back.

Baekhyun catched a silhouette of a guitar case and fought off the urge to roll his eyes. Jesus , not another musician. Baekhyun’s so tired of them.

Baekhyun yawned.

His roommate’s—Chanyeol, he mentally corrected himself—eyes flickered towards his face and the way he’s leaning against the wall. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“You did,” Baekhyun’s nothing if not brutally honest. In the twenty-one years that he’d been alive, his honesty had served him well enough.

It got him a few bruises from pissed off people too but that’s neither here nor there.

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol whispered, head hanging low for a bit.

Jesus. He looked like a kicked puppy. Baekhyun would have been awed by how cute he was but he’s not weak to cute things like Jongdae is, so he didn’t. 

He looked at the clock in the living room instead. “You work until 3 am?”

“Well—uh, it's not exactly work but yeah.”

Baekhyun slowly let his eyes travel across the tall man's hulking form. He's built like a ton of bricks. A 6 foot-tall wall. He's like a fucking building. At least for someone like Baekhyun who had the misfortune of being vertically challenged. 

Baekhyun narrowed his eyes. He certainly had the build for it. But could it really be possible? As much as the man was jacked up and hot as shit (certainly not Baekhyun's type. Nope.), he was awkward as hell too. With a body like his, the profession that Baekhyun had in mind would be plausible. Except that Chanyeol's personality didn't exactly fit the career that Baekhyun had in mind. 

Chanyeol cleared his throat. Baekhyun snapped his eyes back up at the man, not one part of him ashamed of having been caught checking him out.

“Are you a stripper?” Baekhyun blurted out. 

Chanyeol choked on air and stumbled back as if Baekhyun physically struck him. 

He probably is. Baekhyun thought smugly to himself. 

“I'm not! Jesus. I'm—what I do, it's nothing like that.” 

Defensive. At that moment, Baekhyun had sealed his neighbor's job in his mind. 

He's a stripper. 

Chanyeol is a stripper. No matter how much he tried to deny it.

“It's okay, I'm not one to judge. I'd be a stripper too if I could but I don't think I can play nice enough for that.”

“I just told you, I'm not a stripper! It's—I can't even dance!”

Baekhyun raised a brow. “I really don't think dancing is required for your job. You just...take off your shirt and do a body wave, right?”

“I—” Chanyeol frowned down at him. “How do you even know what strippers do?”

“I'm right?”

“What…” Chanyeol tilted his head for a second, confused, before his face turned into one of horror. “No!”

“Oh. Is that not what strippers do then?”

“I don't know! I told you, I'm not one!”

Baekhyun hummed, eyelids drooping a bit as he leaned a bit more heavily into the wall beside him. “You don't have to be so embarrassed.”

“You can barely stand. Go to sleep, Byun.” 

“I probably should.” Baekhyun took himself off of the wall and started going back to his room, yawning as he did so. “Just for the record,” he turned his head back a bit, catching his roommate's eyes as he started retreating. “I'm really not judging you. Maybe I can even go to the bar you work at or something.”

“I told you, I'm not—”

But Baekhyun didn't get to hear Chanyeol's reply as he entered his room because he was already planting himself face first into his bed. 

He hadn't even noticed how tired he was, forgot that he was even sleep deprived in the first place, too caught up on talking with Chanyeol that sleep seemed to have slipped his mind. 

Now, his hell-like week was finally once again reclaiming its hold on him and he easily slipped into unconsciousness. 

So he had a little smile on as he fell asleep. Big deal.

That night, he dreamt of strobing lights and a towering body, writhing and dancing around without a shirt on.                                                                                                                                                             

X

A crash sounded loudly in the quiet apartment. Baekhyun opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling—hard. This was the fifth time this week that his roommate had gone home at an ungodly hour in the morning. Always, always, waking Baekhyun up in the process. 

Annoyed and disgruntled, Baekhyun opened the door to his room and stared hard at the back of Chanyeol’s head. 

“Do you like…I don’t know,” Baekhyun paused before furrowing his brows. “Mind shutting the fuck up?”

Chanyeol startled and turned to look at him for a beat, confusion etched on his face. “But I’m not talking?”

Baekhyun only continued to look sardonically. “You’re making loud noises. It’s three in the morning.”

“I, uh—”

“Shut the fuck up.” Baekhyun grumbled, rubbing at his eyes for a bit. 

It would have been a cute sight if he wasn’t cussing Chanyeol out even though he’s doing absolutely nothing to annoy him.

“I’m not even doing anything!” Chanyeol defended himself, shoulders hunched and arms crossed.

For someone so big, Baekhyun couldn’t help but think he looked so small with the way he’s carrying himself. It would have been a cute sight if Chanyeol hadn’t woken him up from his sleep.

“You’re breathing.” Baekhyun answered and entered his room before Chanyeol could say anything else.

Before he could fully close the door to his room, he could hear Chanyeol’s loud squawk, clearly offended by the one-sided conversation that had transpired.

Suffice to say, them being roommates doesn’t go as smoothly as one would like.

The next few days passed by uneventfully enough. Baekhyun hardly saw Chanyeol because of their schedules that rarely interlap. The smaller man had most especially been drowned in academic loads and work. In fact, it was the only reason why he found himself intentionally staying up as late as one in the morning.

He stared hard at the set of words in front of him—something about the nuances and difference between Bipolar I and Bipolar II before he sighed in defeat and closed his book. It was no use. His mind was not cooperating, no matter how much he wanted to take in the material.

He huffed and stared around at his room. He had already taken the Myers Briggs Personality Test a dozen times now and every single time, the results come back the same. In short, he had nothing to do.

He would have talked to or tried to annoy Jongdae but he knew how tired the other was from his anatomy exam a few hours ago. He wouldn’t take what little sleep his best friend has just so he’d have something to do instead of studying and lazing around while waiting for sleep to come. 

Feeling extremely pathetic about his lack of social life outside of Jongdae, Baekhyun reached for the vintage radio that he had bought off of an online shop a few days ago. He didn’t even know why he got it seeing as he never really even listens to the radio but for some reason, he was compelled to buy this one. It reminded him of Vespa’s and their old school style. Plus, he got it for such a cheap price too.

Gingerly, he turned it on, not quite understanding how the knobs work as he randomly twisted it around until he heard something quite closely resembling a voice instead of just the plain static that’s been spouting out of the radio for a few minutes now.

“—just dial the 3466 in your local telephone number and request whatever song that you guys want! Or you could even call just to chat! For now, let’s play another classic song from the 1980’s, shall we?” The host’s deep voice carried on despite the minimal static. For some reason, Baekhyun felt like he’d heard the voice before but he can’t quite place where. “Here’s Karma Chameleon by an amazing band called Culture Club!”

Baekhyun blinked as the old sounding beat filled his room.

Face scrunching up, Baekhyun didn’t even notice what he’d been doing until he was bringing his phone to his ears.

He apparently had very strong opinions about songs from the eighties.

The ringing suddenly stopped as a voice piped up, “Yo, you’re calling NNG, you gonna request a song or something?”

Baekhyun stared at his phone for a minute before clearing his throat. The voice was different from the one on the radio, for some reason. He didn’t quite know why he was disappointed.

“I’d like to chat with the host, actually.”

The line went silent for a second and Baekhyun had almost turned to look at his phone screen to see if the call had been dropped before the man from the other side suddenly laughed.

“Well, yer the first. God knows how much Loey had wanted someone to chat with him as he’s hosting. Anyway, might have to ask you to wait for a bit ‘til the song is done. Ya good with that?”

“Good,” Baekhyun cleared his throat again, out of nervousness more than anything. “I mean yeah sure.”

There suddenly was shuffling before elevator music played on the line. He’s been put on hold then.

Baekhyun stared at the ceiling and wondered to himself what the fuck he was doing. He didn’t even know why he called, for fuck’s sake. Just that he’s bored out of his mind and is irked enough by the old style of the eighties music.

Baekhyun loved anything retro and old school. It’s the reason why he bought the old looking radio, after all. But he just couldn’t stand eighties music.

Probably because his mom loved it—listened to it at any chance that she could get.

Any reminder of her made Baekhyun want to throw up.

He was flustered out of his musings when the line let out an audible click before a booming deep voice filled the silence.

“Hello, a lovely evening to you! Our first caller for today, everyone! May I ask what your name is?” the man prattled on, not even pausing for a second to breathe.

Loud. That was the first thing that entered Baekhyun’s mind.

“Hello?” the voice spoke up again.

Baekhyun blinked out of his stupor and replied, “Bambi, just call me Bambi.” He cringed at hearing his own voice out of the radio and so he lowered the volume, already listing out ‘earphones’ on his mental list of things that he ought to get as soon as possible.

“Well hello there Bambi, what can I do for you today? Any song requests? Love advice? And what are you doing up so late at night?”

Baekhyun raised a brow. “I could say the same for you.” he huffed out a small laugh. “No love advice for me, thanks. I just called to say the song you chose sucked.”

The man on the other side of the line sputtered. Baekhyun barely managed to keep himself from snorting.

“Excuse you! I’d have you know, Karma Chameleon is a classic!”

“It’s old,”

“Yes, but as they say, they’re oldies but goldies.” the man answered. Baekhyun could almost imagine the man wiggling his brows.

Fuck. He didn’t even know the guy.

“The song’s layered with dust with how old it is.” Baekhyun quipped, trying to keep his voice light.

He knew how mean he could be. People generally avoided him for being too forthcoming and honest but Baekhyun loved to tease. Yes, he sometimes says mean things but he meant them as a joke. Sometimes, it just gets lost in translation, is all.

“I’m seriously going to get offended by your words now,” the man chided. Baekhyun would have been worried if not for the man’s equally teasing voice. “Pray tell Mr. Music Connoisseur, what do you constitute as good music?”

“Something that’s not old,”

“Which is?”

“The Cab. Or Troye Sivan. You know, something that’s not gathering dust at the bottom of my grandmother’s closet.” Baekhyun said with a smile on his face as he lay down on his bed, phone on speaker as he talked to the guy.

“Millennial.” The man groaned, sounding distressed for some reason. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Troye Sivan as much as the next gay guy, but really? Choosing him over something like The Outfield?”

“I don’t even know what that is,” Baekhyun answered truthfully. “Or who that is.”

The man gasped dramatically. Baekhyun giggled. He could imagine the man clutching his hand over his chest. The image reminded him of Chanyeol placing a hand over his chest in shock.

“Well, Mr. Uncultured Swine, I’ve got no choice but to make you fall in love with eighties music then.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” Baekhyun replied. He tried to keep his grin off of his face. He really did.

“To do that, I’d have no choice but to show you the world of the nineteen-eighties through their wonderful music, of course! Starting today, it’s one eighties song per day for you, Mr. Connoisseur.

“What makes you think I’d willingly stay up until one in the morning to listen to a bunch of songs that I don’t even like?”

The moment the words rolled off his tongue, Baekhyun had immediately clamped his mouth together. That was a bit harsh, even he— knew that.

“I’d have no assurance actually,” The man stated, voice sounding slightly strained and off, but for some reason, he pushed through and tried to keep his voice loud and lively again. “But! There’s a but here, Bambi!”

“Which is?”

“But even if you wouldn’t listen, I know that other people would be listening anyway. God knows who’d want to listen to a college student hosting a radio show at one in the morning but I’m sure someone does. Even if you wouldn’t listen, someone else will! So it’s not really a loss for me. However, if you call again at the same time and day next week, I’d consider that as a ‘Yes, I did listen to the song, thank you so much for introducing the lovely world of eighties music for me, Loey.’”

Loey. He had heard the guy from earlier call the host that but he wasn’t quite sure if it was his name.

“Loey,” Baekhyun rolled his name on his tongue. It felt weird, foreign, but not unwelcome. 

“Yes?”

Baekhyun startled out of his thoughts, face reddening as he remembered that he was still on call that’s been aired to probably hundreds of people right now.

“Nothing, just—nothing.” Baekhyun pressed a hand on his eyelids, willing his cheeks to stop burning. “Go ahead and woo me with your eighties song then.”

Loey laughed. “Trust me, you’ll grow to love it. And because of your comment earlier, I’ll introduce The Outfield with their hit song ‘Your Love .’”

Baekhyun suddenly hears the elevator music again after an audible click. With an energy that he didn’t know his body possessed, he jumped to where he placed his radio and turned up the volume knob just as the first beat dropped.

I just wanna use your love tonight

I don’t wanna lose your love tonight

That night, after NNG had closed off, Baekhyun had taken his phone, searched for The Outfield, and fell asleep to Tony Lewis’s voice singing All the Love in the World.

X

Baekhyun, for all his thoughts and adverse opinions about socializing, is actually quite surprised by how little he sees of Chanyeol. They’re roommates for fuck’s sake but even social hermit Baekhyun is concerned by how rarely he sees his roommate. Sometimes, he’d forget he even has one if not for the occasional thumping and groaning at three in the morning because even though he’s lived there for a few weeks now, Chanyeol apparently still can’t avoid bumping himself on every counter available.

Which is why when he entered the apartment with the sound of gunshots and screaming after a long day of sitting through boring lectures, Baekhyun was more than surprised. 

Being the gremlin that spends most of his days lounging around playing video games, he knew it was from one. Knew the sound of his favorite game anywhere he’d go.

And so with apprehension, he walked into the living room and found Chanyeol sprawled out on the floor, a pizza box beside him as he furiously pressed the buttons on the latest playstation controller.

He obviously hadn’t noticed Baekhyun yet, what with how he’s loudly screaming at the tv screen.

“Wow, you suck at this game,” Baekhyun whispered, eyes not leaving the game on the screen even as he heard Chanyeol choke on his own spit.

Probably took him by surprise again. Baekhyun thought to himself. He’s so easy to startle.

“I do not !” His roommate defended himself as he got shot to death. Baekhyun couldn’t resist the snort that came up.

“Let me try,” Baekhyun said as he sat on the floor, a few feet away from the taller man’s sprawled out form.

“You know how to play this game?” Chanyeol asked with a small shocked voice, hands stretched out to hand him the controller.. Baekhyun would have been offended but it’s not like he’s been very friendly to his roommate, has he? This is probably the first time they’ve talked to each other ever since that conversation a few weeks ago.

“Know this game? Please,” Baekhyun smugly said, finding a comfortable position as he took the controller that Chanyeol handed. “This game is scared of me.”

“Confident,” The taller man remarked. Baekhyun could do nothing but throw him a little smirk as the game starts. “Or maybe arrogant.”

“Ya!” Baekhyun screamed, offended, as he tried his best to dodge the bullets.

Chanyeol said nothing but he started laughing so hard he wheezed. He sounds like he’s having an asthma attack. Could you really Baekhyun for the smile that it tugged on his lips?

You can’t, really. Not when you’ve experienced sitting beside a 6 foot tall man that is laughing so hard he almost sounds like a dying hyena.  

And as Baekhyun wins the game, Chanyeol finally brings his competitive streak out because they end up spending the night fighting over who gets to have a turn over the controller, the both of them forgetting to even eat dinner.

After that night, they didn’t exactly become the closest of friends, but they also weren’t toeing around each other anymore. They were able to stomach being in a room together without wanting to choke on the awkward air that permeates around them.

Which is why they’re in front of the screen again, on another Tuesday night seeing as the both of them had nothing better to do. But this time, they had no pizza to munch on when they got ravenous and if there’s one thing Baekhyun is known for other than his grumpiness, it’s his tendency to whine about being hungry.

“God, can’t you whip up something easy?” Baekhyun whined.

“Can’t you?” Chanyeol answered back as he stared at the screen with dead eyes. “I’m too lazy to move but I’m too hungry to pass up dinner again.”

“Do you really think I’m someone you should trust with knives?” Baekhyun flopped on the floor, not even bothering with the game anymore.

Can you really blame him? It’s two in the morning and they’ve been at this since four in the afternoon.

“Maybe we should just call for a takeout.” Chanyeol mumbled, eyes still staring straight at the screen.

He didn’t seem fazed with how late it was.

Maybe he has become immune to sleeping late  from his line of work. Baekhyun thought to himself. Being a stripper must be hard.

“Let’s get Indian.” Baekhyun said, rolling on the floor. His clothes are probably full of the crumbs from the chips he ate earlier but it’s not like he cares anyway. “Please get Indian.”

“Wait, you eat Indian food?” Chanyeol asked disbelievingly as he reached for his phone to call for the food. “I love Indian food.”

“Really? I do too! I grew up eating samosas because my dad enjoyed eating them.”

“I agree, samosas are dope. But biryani? That’s where it’s at.”

Baekhyun groaned, stomach growling from the thought of food. “Please get biryani and samosa.”

And with that, they ended up lounging on the living room floor until three in the morning as they stuffed themselves full of Indian takeouts. If Jongdae was here, he’d scream Baekhyun’s ears off about proper eating time and digestions but he’s not here so Baekhyun indulges in the late night dinner that’s probably going to make his stomach hurt come morning.

“Hey, about your job,” Baekhyun opens the topic, stomach hurting a bit from being too full. “How’d you get in it?”

“Hm?” Chanyeol turned to him with lazy eyes. He had incredibly large eyes, Baekhyun noted. But they’re pretty. Too pretty. “Oh that? I got a referral from a friend.”

“But you're happy, right?” Baekhyun asked, trying his best to not sound offensive. “With what you do?” 

“Of course! I love entertaining people,” Chanyeol turned to Baekhyun with a little smile on his face. “I enjoy it. Knowing that people are entertained with what I do, especially when they’re down and all, you know? You could say I bring up their spirits or something.”

Baekhyun hummed. Taking a moment to look at Chanyeol and by look, he means look . Because from the first moment he’d seen Chanyeol, he knew he was hot but he'd always dismissed it—prevented himself from appreciating it because people who looked like Chanyeol (with their tall height and their deep voice) usually turned out to be assholes.

But Chanyeol—Baekhyun knows now—is not like that. Despite being loud and awkward and all around weird, he’s kind. And Baekhyun doesn’t mean nice because while other people are nice, they’re not necessarily kind. But Chanyeol is.

Because Chanyeol takes their leftover food from their dinner and gives it to strays even when it’s heavily raining outside. And Chanyeol, sweet and caring Chanyeol, helps old ladies cross the street (as Baekhyun once caught him doing). And although they’re not the closest, Chanyeol sometimes leaves food that he cooks for Baekhyun when he stays up late doing school work. And he cleans up after Baekhyun’s plates because he observed how much the smaller man hates to do them.

He’s kind and he’s thoughtful and he’s caring and Baekhyun—he realizes as he stared at Chanyeol—is in danger.

X

“Fuck,” Baekhyun whispered to himself, brows in a furrow as he tried to unscrew the drink he brought from the convenient store he’s currently standing outside of. To no avail, the lid remained tightly shut which served to piss him off even more. 

“Now, what did that drink ever do to you?” Someone suddenly asked.

Baekhyun looked up and found Chanyeol staring at him amusedly before the taller man sat down beside him on the side of the road. 

Baekhyun didn’t even know why he even chose to sit on the side of the road in the first place.

“Shitty thing won’t open.”

“Here, let me.” Chanyeol softly said as he took the bottle from Baekhyun. It took him less than three tries before it opened, grinning to Baekhyun as it did. “Maybe he just didn’t want to let him drink you. Probably got scared of how mean you look.”

“How’d you know the drink is even a ‘he’?”

“Are you gonna cancel me for assuming the bottle’s gender now?” Chanyeol asked, slightly amused.

“You’re infuriating.”

“And you’re dramatic,” Chanyeol replied in kind, “What’s your problem anyway? And I know it’s not just the bottle. A bottle not opening wouldn’t make you look like the world’s going to collapse soon.” 

“Nothing.” Baekhyun answered curtly before drinking. “Just tired is all.”

“Try again,” Chanyeol mumbled, nudging his shoulders with Baekhyun’s slumped ones. “You suck at lying.”

“You’re so persistent it’s annoying.” 

“I’m good at being annoying.” Chanyeol paused for a bit before he continued. “And at listening.”

Baekhyun shot him a small amused smile before he dropped it and sighed, slumping even further in on himself. “My mom wants me to come visit her,”

Silence filled the air around them as Chanyeol waited for Baekhyun’s explanation but the smaller continued to stay silent. “Are you going to give me context or do I have to guess?”

“She broke up with my dad when he was struggling with addiction. Told him she was tired and all that.” Baekhyun frowned down at the drink in his hands. “She’s such an awful person.”

“Well, do you hate her?”

“Of course I do!” Baekhyun turned to look at him with a disbelieving look. “Wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t know. I’m not in your situation after all.” Chanyeol answered but he still mulled the thought over anyway.

“But what if you were? Would you hate her?”

“Well… I’d probably be disappointed but I wouldn’t hate her.”

Baekhyun stayed silent for a bit, eyes searching for something on Chanyeol’s face before he spoke again. “Why not? She’s evil.”

“The world isn’t made up of good or evil people. After all, a person’s reality lies in how they see the world.” Chanyeol shrugged. “The thief that stole from me the other day? Some would say that he’s a bad person because he’s doing an act of crime. Others would digress and say that he must have had a reason for what he did.” 

“Someone robbed you?” Baekhyun couldn’t resist asking, a brow raising at how casually Chanyeol stated it out.

“Not the point. What I’m saying is that your truth is yours. What may constitute as bad or good for you may not be the same for someone else, but that doesn’t mean any of you are wrong. Just means that we all have different ways of viewing the world.”

Baekhyun said nothing in return. Silence reigned in on them. He could feel Chanyeol’s stare on the side of his face but he refused to meet his eyes, instead choosing to turn his attention to the people going about their day, together with the occasional cars that passed by. 

“What do you think about that then?”

Chanyeol glanced at him, confusion written all over his face. “About what?”

“About the thief? Is he a bad person or is he merely a victim of circumstances?”

The taller man’s lips slightly tugged up on one side as he mulled the question over.

Neither of them said anything for a while, the slowly dwindling bustle of the city falling over them as they sat side by side. A car rode past them, zipping through the road at a speed that was certainly not within the speed limit.

“Both,” Chanyeol answered. Baekhyun rolled his eyes, a hint of a smirk on his face. Predictable, he thought to himself. “He probably had a reason for what he did, doesn’t mean his way of solving his problems was right though. Could have handled it another way, if I’m being honest.”

Baekhyun hummed softly. A beat, before he started, “There’s a flaw in what you said though—”

“There’s always a flaw in everything,” Chanyeol quipped.

Baekhyun pretended not to hear him, “—because if a person’s truth is their own, the world would burn down.”

“Why do you think so?”

“Without a line to draw the boundaries between two different things, the mix would be inevitable. Everything would always end up getting muddled. That’s why laws are there, because we always need the absolutes to ground things.” Baekhyun said, eyes flickering to Chanyeol, only to look out on the streets again when he finds the taller’s eyes already on him. It was disorienting. “Being neutral all the time? That’s not how reality works. In the real world, you always have to pick a side.”

“Then pick a side,” Chanyeol said simply, as if he barely even thought of it. “Choose. But always remember that one side doesn’t necessarily have to be the most prevalent all the time. Sometimes, things are better off when they’re muddled.” He paused and softly bumped a shoulder against Baekhyun. “Life doesn’t always have to be black or white. It can be gray too.”

Baekhyun looked away, and with his heart beating loudly on his chest, he could only hope that his feelings weren't painted directly on his face because as much as he wants to deny it, he’s pretty sure he’s no longer just admiring the man but that he’s falling for the man too.

X

“Well hello there, Bambi. I see you’ve called again.” Loey greeted him as soon as he said hello, voice already carrying a hint of teasing in them. “This is the third week that you’ve tuned in. Does that mean that ‘80s music is slowly melting your awfully cold heart?”

Baekhyun couldn’t help the laugh that the comment gets from him. It is, indeed, his third week today and it’s safe to say that he has actually enjoyed all of the songs, even though some of them he’d really rather not tune in to. 

Sometimes, he wonders if he’s really listening to it for the songs or for the person recommending the songs but Baekhyun’s mind is always occupied by another person with a personality as equally awkward as the one he’s currently talking to.

“Getting there but not quite.” He said instead.

“You know someday, I’d have to ask you what the ‘80s music ever did to you.”

“Bad memories and all that,” Baekhyun answered. “Would you like to hear it? The reason I mean.”

“Well if you don’t mind then of course, feel free to do so.”

“Wouldn’t it take time from other callers?” Baekhyun asked, voice suddenly turning small.

Should he really do this?

“Oh don’t ya worry. We’ve basically got non existent listeners so the stage is all yours, Bambi.”

“Oh, okay well then I—” Baekhyun paused, hands gripping the bed sheet beneath him. “I, uhm…”

“You know if you don’t want to say it, it’s fine, okay? You don’t have to force—”

“My mother loved ‘80s music.” Baekhyun interrupted Loey, voice starting to close in on his throat. “She played it every night whenever she would put me to sleep.”

Baekhyun bit his lower lip, gathering all of the courage he had before he continued to speak. “And I loved it. I used to love it a lot. That is until she left me with my father. She said she couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t handle my father’s addiction.”

For a few minutes, none of them spoke, only the soft sound of a song softly playing in the background can be heard.

Baekhyun is aware that he’s on a public platform and that people are probably going to be hearing about the problems that he just aired but he couldn’t stand doing nothing anymore—couldn’t stand saying nothing.

And whilst he already told Chanyeol a part of it, it’s still not enough to help him make a decision.

“That’s it.” Baekhyun broke the silence, trying his best to not let his voice shake.

“Oh. Addiction too, huh. Weird. Someone told me the same problem earlier too.” Loey replied, “Well, do you want me to give you advice?”

“Will you?” Baekhyun exhaled, breath shaky. “Please?”

“Of course!!” Loey enthusiastically agreed, “Well, how do I even start… I’ve no context of the situation other than what you’ve told me but I do know a thing or two about being angry. It’s hard to forgive, and it’s even harder to forget, especially when it’s directed towards someone who’s watched us grow up. And maybe it’ll be impossible for you to forgive her, but have you ever thought about asking her for the reason?”

“She already told us the reason, hasn’t she? She told us she got tired.”

“Yes, but have you asked her or even yourself why she got tired?” Loey asked and that, more than anything that night, shuts Baekhyun up.

“I don’t know.” Baekhyun whispered, eyes fixed on the radio in front of him as he mulled the thought over.

“You know,” Loey inhaled deeply as if steeling himself before he continued. “Not everything has to be black and white, right? It can be gray too.”

Baekhyun blinks. And he blinks again and again before he stares at his phone in shock because he knows that line. Someone he talked to earlier just said that line.

He stares and he stares as if staring at his phone hard enough is gonna make Chanyeol magically appear on the screen.

Due to his shock, it didn’t even hit him how silent the other line had been, as if waiting for a reaction of some sorts from him.

“I—are you—” Baekhyun croaked before clearing his throat. “You're not a stripper.”

Loey let out a low chuckle. “I'm not. Let’s talk later, shall we? I know you’re shocked. I am too. So for now, just listen to this song first, okay?” Loey—Chanyeol, because Baekhyun is now a hundred percent sure that it’s Chanyeol—stated, voice entirely calm.

How can he be so calm when Baekhyun’s heart is going haywire in his chest?

“I…okay.” Baekhyun answered before he dropped the call and turned the volume of the radio on, just in time for the song to start.

Running just as fast as we can

Holding on to one another's hand

Trying to get away into the night

And then you put your arms around me

And we tumble to the ground and then you say

I think we're alone now

There doesn't seem to be anyone around

I think we're alone now

The beating of our hearts is the only sound  

Baekhyun knew he was being stupid. Falling in love with his roommate was stupid. Falling in love with a radio station host that he doesn’t even know the face of is even stupider.

Falling in love with the both of them while not knowing they’re the same person? Now that just takes the cake of the most outrageous level of shit that Baekhyun got himself into. 

—now

Baekhyun is so sure that Jongdae came straight from hell just so he could make Baekhyun’s life a living hell. He was sure of it.

Because aside from marrying Oh Sehun—which eventually leads him to seeing Chanyeol again—he also forgot to order the fucking boquet that he would need to talk down the isle.

Because Jongdae wants to have a bouquet even though he technically doesn’t have to. He’s prissy like that.

And of course he’d want the kind of flowers that doesn’t exist this season, because he’s fucking prissy and Baekhyun absolutely hates him.

Chanyeol though? Chanyeol loves the idea of trying to find peonies in the middle of fall because he’s a closeted romantic that’s too much of a softie to tell Jongdae that peonies are expensive as fuck and are even harder to acquire when it’s not late spring to early summer.

And so here they are, trekking the cold air of fall because Jongdae is a pain in the ass and Chanyeol is an asshole that had volunteered both Baekhyun and him to look for it the moment Jondgae broke down and cried how he forgot the bouquet—of all the things that he could forget. 

“I’m sorry, we don’t have that kind of flower around this time of the year.” The woman behind the counter let out a small sorry smile.

Chanyeol lets out a sigh in dejection as they turn away.

“Where’s the next nearest flower shop then?” He looks to Baekhyun who only grumbled a bit before pulling up his phone to check his GPS.

“It’s three blocks away.” Baekhyun answers, eyes filled with obvious frustration now. “God, can’t we just stop and tell Jongdae that we couldn’t find it?”

“What do you mean?” Chanyeol asks. “We’ve only checked ten shops, I’m sure there are more and maybe one of them would have a stock.”

“I’m tired. My feet hurt.”

“Fine,” Chanyeol turns and walks toward a bench. “Rest for a bit and then we'll go look again after you rest.”

“No, I don’t want to.” Baekhyun whines, eyes turning into slits as he stares at Chanyeol. “I’m tired. Let’s just give up!”

“Why is it so easy for you to give up?” Chanyeol rounds up to him, jaw ticking. “It’s your best friend’s wedding, for fuck’s sake.”

“Oh?” Baekhyun let out a humorless laugh, arms crossing over his chest as he did so. “I’m the one that’s quick to give up? Says the person who gave up on a five year relationship because of one fight.”

Chanyeol recoils back as if physically struck. Out of all the things he expected from Baekhyun, that was not one that he’d ever expect to hear.

“Why are you suddenly bringing that up?” Chanyeol inquires as soon as he finds his voice again.

“Because I’m tired of toeing around it!” Baekhyun screams, not even caring about the looks that other people are sending their way. “I’m tired of pretending as if you never broke my heart! I’m tired , Chanyeol.”

And what is Chanyeol supposed to say to that, really? What is he supposed to do when he feels the same way—even thinks the same way. Because although the breakup is something that he instigated, it broke his heart too.  

“I’m tired of acting as if what happened three years ago is something that I’ve moved on from because it hasn’t. Even up until this day, I still ask myself why it was so so easy for you to give it all up.” Baekhyun continues, tears starting to fall on his face and Chanyeol wants to reach out and wipe them away but he can’t bring himself to. Not when he’s the reason why those tears are even there in the first place. “You didn’t even look back, Yeol. Never even spared me a glance. You just went out of the door as if all of us meant nothing to you. I’m so tired of pretending like it didn’t affect me because it did.”

“You think it didn’t affect me?” Chanyeol croaks out, swallowing down the lump on his throat.

“Oh, did it?” Baekhyun laughs, voice a tad bit cruel. “Because it didn’t fucking seem like it seeing as how it was easy for you to sleep with someone else! Right after we broke up too!”

“It was a mistake! God, I was drunk and stupid, okay?” Chanyeol tries to explain, hands already reaching out to grip Baekhyun’s arms to make him listen but Baekhyun wouldn’t even let Chanyeol touch him.

Just like how it was three years ago. Exactly how it was those years ago when Baekhyun had gone to visit Chanyeol’s old apartment after the breakup in order to talk it out only to be greeted with the sight of a woman coming out of the apartment, entirely disheveled and looking none too  subtly like she’d just been fucked.

“Oh please, spare me your explanations.” Baekhyun turns and walks away and Chanyeol can do nothing but stare at his retreating back.

It’s not like he’d listen if he reached out again anyway.

—then

Baekhyun has never received flowers during Valentines (or ever) before. As much as he hated sappy and overused romantic actions, a part of him couldn’t help but still hope to experience it anyway. 

Chanyeol, sweet and thoughtful Chanyeol, seemed to have read his mind because in front of him, the tall man was holding up a bouquet of sunflowers—each of them radiant, bright, and full of life. 

“What’s this for?” Baekhyun stupidly asked.

Chanyeol laughed before he answered. “For Valentines, of course.” Dramatically, as if he’s a prince from one of those shitty romance movies that he loves so much, Chanyeol bows down in front of him. “May I have this dance?”

Baekhyun could only stare dumbfoundedly before he burst out laughing at the silliness of the situation. “Chanyeol, I’m on a ratty shirt and we’re in our living room.”

“So? We can still dance, can’t we?” The taller man grinned, teeth sharp and glittering.

“I—no music’s even playing!” Baekhyun spluttered.\

“Ah!” Chanyeol raised a finger, posing akin to something that screams “Aha!”. “Just wait here.”

With that, he runs off to their shared bedroom before he goes out again but this time he’s got the record player with him.

“What are you doing?” Baekhyun raised a brow.

“Playing music, babe.”

As if on cue, a song starts to play.

I just died in your arms tonight

It must have been something you said

I just died in your arms tonight

Baekhyun kept his groan under control but he couldn’t hide the roll of his eyes. Chanyeol only laughed before he took the smaller man’s hands and whisked him away in a dance that was too chaotic to even be romantic.

—now

Chanyeol was not one for parties and clubbing.

But Sehun and Jongdae had both insisted on going to a club for one last time before they got tied down to each other in marriage. So here he was, nursing a glass of something that he’d rather not know the name of, as he tries to drown out the loud music of the place.

Even back then, when he was young and full of energy, he’d never been one to party. Baekhyun and him preferred to stay home as they slowly danced to ‘80s songs that Baekhyun had once sworn to hate. Sehun and Jongdae had called them losers back then because they claimed that the loud environment and the strobing lights of clubs were too much for them to handle, preferring the dim lights of their apartment and its lulling atmosphere.  

And that is why he knows for a fact that Baekhyun hates partying too. Unless that changed over the course of the years that they haven’t seen each other, of course–but it’s more feasible that he still doesn’t enjoy them even until now, given how short of a time their separation was.

With that in mind—why, exactly—is Baekhyun dancing around the crowded dance floor as if he enjoys doing so?

Why is he pressed up into another person–a random stranger, that is—as he swayed his hips to the loud beat of an electronic song?

Don’t get him wrong, Chanyeol’s not jealous; just concerned. After all, it’s unusual for Baekhyun to be this social and frisky with random strangers that he probably doesn’t even know the name of.

But it’s not like he can do anything about it, can he? It’s not like he’s got a right to do anything about it. Not like he even wants to do anything about it. Baekhyun can do whatever it is that he wants to do. He’s a grown man and Chanyeol is sure that he can handle himself.

Except that he’s a lightweight and he hates drinking and yet he’s on his third glass of alcohol but it’s not like Chanyeol’s counting—no, he’s definitely not. It’s just that Baekhyun can be especially loose when he’s disinhibited. He can be very vulnerable and it’s not like Chanyeol cares but the man that Baekhyun is dancing with is currently dragging his hands on the smaller’s torso and Baekhyun’s drunk and Chanyeol can do nothing but watch because—

—because he brought this on himself, didn’t he?

Because he’s the one that left Baekhyun alone in that apartment, crying and begging him to not leave and yet he still did. Still left like the five years of their relationship didn’t matter because he was stupid and reckless and in grief and he didn’t know what to do with himself—let alone what to do with a relationship that was falling apart.

After that explosive fight on that bouquet assignment, they’ve yet to talk to each other again and no matter how much Sehun and Jongdae goads them into interacting with each other, the two just wouldn’t budge. And so their civil interactions (or at least the illusion of it) is gone which is why…

Which is why he stands there and stares as Baekhyun dances with the man.

He watches as Baekhyun opens his eyes and immediately meets his.

He watches as the man’s roving hands map out Baekhyun’s small waist. 

He watches Baekhyun watch him.

And maybe Chanyeol is angry. And maybe, just maybe, he is affected after all because before he knows it, he’s standing up and is making his way across the room to go to Baekhyun.

Perhaps Baekhyun understands what he’s going to do as well because his eyes widen momentarily before he untangles himself from the man he’s dancing with, not even bothering to excuse himself before he walks towards Chanyeol with purposeful strides.

And as they reached each other, like magnets drawn to each other, they pressed their lips together.

It wasn’t explosive, wasn’t groundbreaking, wasn’t earth shattering—but it felt good because it felt right. It felt like coming home to a place you’ve thought you’d never go back to again. Felt like sinking back into a bed that’s worn and a little too cramped for you but you’d still use it anyway because it’s comfortable and it’s familiar and it’s yours .

It’s yours, and it’s yours and it’s Chanyeol’s and God—even three years apart, Chanyeol still knows every crevice of Baekhyun. His lips, hands, and whole body still knows his way around. Still knows what buttons to push to have Baekhyun going pliant under him.

And maybe they should talk about it instead of just going for it but they’re not thinking clearly—Chanyeol’s not thinking clearly as he allows Baekhyun to pull him away from the throng of bodies and into the parking lot.

He’s not thinking clearly as he ignores Sehun and Jongdae’s calls and continues to shut the door to Baekhyun’s side in the passenger seat of his car before driving them back to the hotel.

He’s not thinking clearly as he takes Baekhyun to his room and kisses him again and again and again until their lips are turning red and sore from all of the kissing that they’re doing.

And as he takes Baekhyun’s clothes apart, he thinks and he thinks and maybe they should talk about this first but then the part of his brain that wants to think is getting overridden by the part that wants to feel because even after all these years, Baekhyun still melts under him. Still holds on to him like he’ll drown and be pulled under an array of overwhelming sensation if he doesn’t. 

He still does that thing where he closes his eyes and tips his head back because it’s getting too much for him and Chanyeol who’s entirely aware of every reaction from him, knows that it means he wants more—

And he’s not wrong because a minute later, Baekhyun is whining and whispering more, more, more even as Chanyeol continues to give, and give, and give .

Perhaps they should talk this through but as Baekhyun spreads his legs for him, all thoughts of thinking and talking flow out the window because in this moment, with this person, Chanyeol wants nothing more than to give him everything that he’d ever want from the world.

Consequences be damned.

And so the consequence does indeed bite him in the ass because Chanyeol wakes up to the sound of Baekhyun’s panicked Oh my gods.

“Fuck, please tell me last night was a dream.” Baekhyun shrieks as he tries to cover himself with the bedsheet. As if Chanyeol hasn’t seen everything that could be seen about his body yet. But Chanyeol still wants to live and so he doesn’t point that one little detail out.

“That was a damn good dream then.” Chanyeol chooses to comment instead, turning on the bed as he looks at Baekhyun with half of his face still pressed up on the pillow beneath him.

“Fuck, this shouldn’t have happened.” Baekhyun whispers to himself as he frantically looks around for his clothes. “This never happened, Park.”

And Chanyeol expected this, really. He expected this because it was the heat of the moment that led them here, wasn’t it?

And yet…

It still hurts to watch Baekhyun try to put clothes on himself as he pretends he’s not shaking and that there are no tears blurring his eyesight anyway.

Chanyeol couldn’t help but notice how he looks so scared and confused and Chanyeol wants to beat himself up because he did all of this. He did this to beautiful, confident Baekhyun and he can do nothing but watch as he withdraws in on himself.

And so with slow hands, waiting for rejection that he’s sure is to come, he takes Baekhyun’s clothes from his shaking hands and carefully dresses the shorter man himself.

Baekhyun isn’t even bothering to protest, only leaning his forehead on Chanyeol’s chest as the taller man covers him up.

As soon as he’s done clothing Baekhyun, Chanyeol immediately wants to step away but the smaller one is still leaning on him and so he remains stationary, waiting for Baekhyun to move.

He waits, and he waits, and he waits but Baekhyun never moves and so with a courage that he’s not sure where he’s kept, Chanyeol softly kisses the crown of Baekhyun’s head as he whispers:

“I’m sorry.” 

And it’s not enough. One sorry won’t ever be enough but it’s a start and Chanyeol hopes that Baekhyun can see that too.

—then

On one Thursday night, as they’re having biryani and samosa for dinner, Chanyeol receives a call that changes the course of their whole relationship.

The call’s message was simple and clear: Mr. Park, Chanyeol’s father, had passed. 

And so the start of the end of their relationship begins.

Baekhyun was never a clingy person. He kept to himself most of the time, even when Chanyeol and him started to go out, he’d still keep a semblance of distance. But he craves affection.

He craves it so often that he’d get pouty whenever Chanyeol stops giving him attention.

The problem is, Chanyeol’s father had just passed away and in order to distract himself from grief, he’d been drowning himself with work.

And honestly, Baekhyun would’ve understood—really. He understood because he was in grief and Baekhyun would rather have Chanyeol occupy himself with work than to not eat at all like he did when the first week of the news of his father’s death dropped.

But Baekhyun needed a tad bit of affection too, no matter how small. Especially when the company he’d applied for had just rejected his audition.

It didn’t lightweight Chanyeol’s mourning but that doesn’t mean he still needed the reassurance any less. However, that’s the thing, isn’t it? Chanyeol couldn’t even spare him a glance anymore, let alone ask him how the audition went when he’d been the one that pushed Baekhyun to try it out in the first place. 

Baekhyun blinked up from his book when Chanyeol sat down beside him with a guitar in hand. And Baekhyun almost went to him for a hug, thinking that the taller man finally wanted a cuddle, or a hug, or even just for them to talk.

Instead of all those things, Chanyeol started strumming his guitar softly, eyes never even lifting up to look at Baekhyun as he sang a song that his heart has probably cried out to a million times over since the news of his father’s death.

The leader of the band is tired

And his eyes are growing old

But his blood runs through

My instrument

And his song is in my soul

My life has been a poor attempt

To imitate the man

I'm just a living legacy

To the leader of the band

Hearing the lyrics of that song, Baekhyun suddenly felt silly. Honestly, what was a bit of a missed time with each other compared to the loss of a father? 

Baekhyun is aware of how much Chanyeol adored his father, practically worshiping the ground he walked on because he was his inspiration for creating music. And as much as Chanyeol tried to deny it, Baekhyun knew that the taller man wanted to make the man proud—to follow the footsteps that were almost too big for him to fill.

And so he let go of his childish whims and kept his mouth shut in order to support Chanyeol through his struggles.

That would’ve been it, really. Baekhyun silently held Chanyeol’s hand through it all.

Except that it’s been months now and the space between him and Chanyeol has been growing farther and farther apart. The taller man has yet to even ask Baekhyun about anything related to him. He’d wake up, eat, leave for work, and come home exhausted and burnt out to the point where he’d have no time to talk to Baekhyun at all.

Baekhyun’s not even sure if Chanyeol is aware that they’re still together. The most affection that he could take from Chanyeol this month alone has been a quick kiss on the cheek—barely even a peck as he hurried out of the apartment.

Heartbroken doesn’t cover what he’s feeling. It’s not like it’s an accurate assessment anyway. Heartbroken? No. It’s more comparable to the feeling of watching something he loves slowly getting taken away from him yet he’s powerless to stop it because as much as he tries to believe otherwise, a part of him knows that his lover isn’t being taken away—instead, his lover is unconsciously creating that ripple between them on his own.

Fed up with the situation, Baekhyun decided to do something about it.

“Have you eaten?” Baekhyun asked, eyes roving over a weary looking Chanyeol who was too busy taking off his cloak to look at him properly.

A part of Baekhyun is screaming at him to not do this when the taller man just got home after a tiring day at work but if he’s not going to act now, then when? He couldn’t exactly keep on postponing this confrontation just because of numerous reasons. At the end of the day, he’d really rather not do this anyway because the thought of Chanyeol’s reaction scares him more than the thought of their slowly dwindling relationship.

But Baekhyun wasn’t raised a quitter and so with dread in his bones, he continues on head first into a confrontation that he knows would probably end in a fight.

“No,” The taller man responded as he made his way towards the kitchen. “Am not really hungry.”

Baekhyun stood from the couch to follow him there. “I made food. Just reheat it if you want it hot.” He took in how Chanyeol completely ignored what’s laid out on the table for a glass of water, not even sparing the food a glance. “Or I can reheat it for you?”

“I said I’m not hungry.” Chanyeol answered as he put the glass down on the sink, not even bothering to wash it before he walked to the bedroom.

Baekhyun knew that he was tired. Could see it from the way he carried himself—from the slump on his shoulders to the darkness underneath his eyes, even to the way he was walking with his head down, eyes drooping low.

Baekhyun knew that he was tired but being ignored so easily still stung. It left him feeling disposable, like he was someone that could just fade in the background—a person not worth paying attention to.

Baekhyun would have brushed it off but the problem lies in the fact that this wasn’t the first time that it happened. No, because it had happened again and again and again, so much so that Baekhyun could say it has started to stop becoming a rare occurrence. He was almost used to it.

But it’s something that you’re not supposed to get used to. Especially when you’re in a committed relationship where attention—while not necessarily an urgent need—is still a need nonetheless.

“Are you ever gonna look at me?” Baekhyun blurted out.

Chanyeol stopped on his tracks, back on his boyfriend as he asked, “What?”

Baekhyun forced the nervousness out of his voice. “This week alone, not once have you looked at me.”

Chanyeol turned and stared at him, a small disbelieving look on his face. “What the fuck, Baek? I’m looking at you right now.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

Baekhyun said nothing, eyes glued on the painting beside Chanyeol’s shoulders.

“What brought this on?” Chanyeol asked again, voice raising a little bit.

Maybe Baekhyun’s a coward after all because all the fight leaves his body only to be replaced by a drowning feeling of sadness, one that makes it hard for him to breathe.

“Nothing. Forget it.” Baekhyun whispered as he shouldered his way past through the tall man and into their bed.

And although he tried not to get mad, he couldn’t help but slam the door of the bedroom. How couldn’t he? Chanyeol hasn’t even spared him a glance at least once this week and the only time he has, he had to go look at Baekhyun like he was stupid for asking a little bit of time from him. 

“Baek, open the damn door and tell me what brought this on.”

“Fuck off, will you?” Baekhyun croaked out.

Chanyeol, instead of leaving as Baekhyun thought he’d do, pounded on the door instead. “Open the door, Baekhyun or I’m gonna have to find a way to break it.”

“Fucking break it!” Baekhyun screamed, tears blurring out his vision as he sat (more like collapsed) on top of the bed. “Let’s see you try.”

And maybe he shouldn’t have said that after all because in the next few seconds, he suspiciously hears nothing but silence.

And then there’s a thud, thud, thud ; and the door gives way to a pissed off Chanyeol who looked nothing like the awkward gangly man Baekhyun knew him to be.

“What in the world is this?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” Baekhyun answered, not even noticing how he’s been further withdrawing in on himself, scooting closer and closer to the bed.

“Baek, I don’t have the energy to do this. Fuck’s sake, I just got off from a stressful day at work.” Chanyeol roughly ground out, shoulders slumping.

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” Baekhyun couldn’t help but deflate as well. He was just so tired. “You always don’t have time anymore.” He continued, his voice cracking and his heart breaking. “You’re never home anymore.”

“You know how hectic things have been since—”

“I know. I know that. I just—” Baekhyun paused to gather his breath. “Wish you’d spare me a bit of your time too.”

“You know I can’t afford to slack off, don’t you?” Chanyeol asked. Baekhyun looked up at him and stared at the evident tiredness on his face. 

“Spending time with me is slacking off?” He asked softly.

“That’s not what I meant.” Chanyeol closed his eyes then and Baekhyun could almost hear his own heart falling into the floor in a million little pieces. “Baek, I really can’t do this today.”

“Then when?” Baekhyun gripped the sheets below him. Wasn’t it just yesterday when he’d been gripping his sheets for an entirely different reason? It was from a few years ago, nervous at the thought of talking to Loey, and yet it felt like it was from an eternity ago. “If you can’t even spare me a second,” Baekhyun paused for a bit, voice clogging up again.

He could barely breathe anymore but that’s nothing compared to the tightening on his chest.

“Then tell me, so that I’d stop expecting it from you.” He continued.

And honestly, he expected a hundred million ways of how Chanyeol would react. Maybe he’d wake up from the stupor that he’d had and say that he’d make time for Baekhyun now. Or maybe he’d even laugh at Baekhyun’s face and say that he’s asking for too much.

What he did not expect, however, is for Chanyeol to stare at the floor for a few seconds before slowly nodding his head and saying:

“I’m sorry, Baek. I’m sorry but I can’t ask you to expect anything from me anymore. Not when we could barely keep it together now. I—” He stopped. And before he even continues, Baekhyun already knows what he’s going to say anyway. He could see it coming from miles away.

And no matter how much he prayed to the Gods that his suspicions are wrong, he was once again left disappointed as Chanyeol utters the words that Baekhyun has been dreading to hear. 

“I think we should just break up.”

—then

After Baekhyun has calmed down for a bit, they sit beside each other on the couch, both leaning on the back of the couch as they curl up on themselves. 

No one is uttering a word but the silence says enough to speak for itself. Both of them were too lost in their own thoughts to even initiate a conversation.

“What went wrong?” Baekhyun suddenly blurts out, voice still a bit hoarse from the way he was crying earlier.

“I did.” Chanyeol starts, glancing at Baekhyun’s profile before he looks away again. “I was too caught up on doing everything I can to bring honor to his name—to follow his legacy.”

Baekhyun lets out a small hum, hands scratching the sofa between them. It’s a nervous habit of his, Chanyeol knows. They used to have explosive fights about it when Baekhyun eventually tore through the seat’s leather. It wasn’t the best quality leather but it was ridiculous how much Baekhyun scratched it.

“I took part in the downfall of the relationship too, didn’t I?” Baekhyun answers, voice so small that Chanyeol had to fight off the urge to lean closer to listen to him better. “I was the first to insinuate the breakup.”

“But you didn’t actually mean it, did you?” Chanyeol asks.

Baekhyun shakes his head.

God. All these years, Chanyeol thought so too. Knew that Baekhyun never even thought that he’d follow through with the breakup. He knew that Baekhyun never meant it and he still went through it anyway because he was so caught up in what’s happening to him that he never even really realized that his relationship was dying. 

“Never, in the course of our relationship, did I ever want to break up with you, Yeol.” Baekhyun states softly as he turns his head for a bit in order to look at him.

Chanyeol could see the despair on his face. Could clearly see the longing and the three years worth of pain that has accumulated over time. Chanyeol, more than anything in the world, wants to wipe it all away.

If he could restart time, he would. If he could only go back in time and redo things just so he’d have an outcome where Baekhyun isn’t this broken, he would. But that’s not possible now, is it?

What he could only do now is to own up to every mistake that he had ever made.

“Baek, I’m sorry.” He whispers, hand reaching out to envelope Baekhyun’s hand with his own. “I’m so sorry. I know it’ll be hard to forgive me and I’ll understand if you never could but please, take my apology.” Slowly, he bows down until his forehead presses itself on their clasped hands. 

“In those years that we’ve been apart, I never stopped thinking about you.” He sobs. He could feel Baekhyun’s other hand trying to get him to sit straight but he couldn’t. He just couldn't. “The moment I left the apartment, it immediately occurred to me how stupid I was being but I had too much pride. I—That woman, I was just drunk, believe me, please.”

“Yeol, sit up, please. I…it’s fine. It was three years ago.” Baekhyun tries to make him straight again but Chanyeol only shakes his head.

“It was three years ago. For three years you probably questioned yourself.” Chanyeol continues to sob, guilt sitting heavy on his stomach. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeol please,” Baekhyun whispers. And then Baekhyun is laying his head beside Chanyeol’s and he’s crying too, full on sobbing with snot running down his throat. And if someone were to walk in on them right now, they’d probably look really stupid with their uncomfortable positions but Chanyeol couldn’t care less about anything right now because for three years, he’s been waiting for this moment.

For three whole years, he’s been wanting to let it all out; to apologize for all the damage that he has caused.

And now it’s finally here.

“I…I can’t…” Baekhyun starts. Even when crying, he still looks as beautiful as the day Chanyeol first saw him. “I can’t promise you that I’d forget. I honestly don’t want to. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to forgive.” He lifts a hand up and traces Chanyeol’s face before saying,

“I’ve already forgiven you from the moment you walked out the apartment door three years ago.”

X

Things don’t necessarily turn out okay again. They’re still a tad bit awkward and they’re still broken up but they’ve decided to rekindle their friendship now—the one that got lost amidst the whirlwind of their romance. 

Sehun and Jongdae questioned it. They raised their eyebrows about the sudden turnabout but dismissed it as the result of their… one night stand or whatever you want to call it. Perhaps their friends are confused about their arrangement and honestly, Chanyeol’s just as confused as well.

They’re not back together, no, but instead of the heavy atmosphere that used to follow them around, every interaction that they’ve had now is filled with hope instead. Every look is seemingly lingering. Every touch leaves him burning. Every word exchanged is filled with yearning.

Chanyeol doesn’t know what they are or where they stand but the hope inside of him is slowly blooming.

With their drama out of the way, the wedding turns out to be a success. 

It wasn’t the grandest of the weddings but Sehun and Jongdae looked so madly in love that it made up for all of Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s last minute planning sacrifices anyway.

“Do you think they’d ever meet each other if we hadn't introduced them?” Chanyeol asks Baekhyun even though his eyes never leave the couple in the front.

“I think they’d find a way towards each other anyway.” Baekhyun answers beside him, eyes fond of their best friends as well. “I remember years ago, I first met Sehun as he was working in a coffee shop. That was the first time Jongdae saw him as well.”

“They really are meant to be, huh.” Chanyeol mutters softly. And although he doesn’t look back, he could feel Baekhyun staring at him. He could feel his burning gaze trained on him.

“Later, I—” Baekhyun starts before he clears his throat. Chanyeol turns to him, questioning in his eyes. “I’m going to go visit my mom. I’ve… All these years I’ve never seen her and I wanted… Someone told me that things can be gray too.” He stops, stares at the floor, and looks up at Chanyeol through his lashes.

Somewhere in the background, a particular ‘80s song plays as Jongdae and Sehun dance their first night of marriage away.

I just died in your arms tonight

It must have been something you said

I just died in your arms tonight

Softly, as if he’s afraid of someone overhearing, Baekhyun asks,

“Will you come with me?”

– fin.