[EXO] the dark is too hard to beat
the dark is too hard to beat | exo | baekhyun/zitao | nc-17 | 9600~ | warnings: here (contains spoilers)
baekhyun doesn't believe in eternity or meant to be, but he believes in inevitability.
inspired by this edit by tb-cont
the dark is too hard to beat
Falling in love with a reclusive writer wasn't part of the blueprint that Baekhyun had meticulously planned out to direct his life.
It was supposed to go like this: graduate from university, find a well-paying job, marry a girl who had the same interests as him, have children, live a humble and mundane life, die (and maybe sing a little at the side but he knows songs don't put food on the table or wrap his feet in new shoes).
Yet here he was, pressed into the thin, worn out mattress of one Huang Zitao, a spring digging cruelly into the small of his back. Zitao has hands busy working his belt loose and a mouth hot on the tip of his ear, tongue lapping against it casually. Baekhyun arches towards him, desperate for more contact but Zitao's hands on his front still and Baekhyun stops moving.
"Stop being a tease," Baekhyun murmurs into the crook of Zitao's neck and is replied with a low chuckle that vibrates against his naked skin.
⌑
Or maybe he shouldn't be surprised that his life hadn't exactly gone as plan; Baekhyun has always been a little - how does one put it - different. Different in the way he can see lights burning steady in the hearts of everyone, a little flame that burns red blue yellow orange all at once. He had told his mother about it once when he was seven, pointing and tapping against her chest and asking why her flame was dimmer than everyone else's. She had looked at him with worry and amusement laced in one glance and told him to stop spouting nonsense.
He has never told her about his "light vision" again. After all, is it telling if one is speaking to the slab of stone that represents a person who had once been alive? Is it telling if there is no reaction and just the cold rush of the midnight cool against his skin but burning like acid at the back of his eyelids?
So he keeps it a secret until he is immune to the feelings it brings him. It had been hard at first, hard to face someone with a dimming light and still having to smile and act normal instead of picturing their body stuck amidst twisted metal and burnt leather, but time is the best provider of practice and soon Baekhyun seems to even lose the ability to care.
In fact, why should he? Everyone dies in the end anyway - why does it matter that he knew when they did?
⌑
He meets Zitao during the winter, when the ground is blanketed by a thin layer of snow, dirtied by people's footsteps and the exhaust fumes of cars as they pass by. Baekhyun kicks against it childishly and watches in mild amusement as the snow scatters under his feet. From the corner of his eye, he sees the flame of someone dim, as if someone had turn it down with a switch.
That someone has hands wrapped around a man, head turned up with a smile.
That someone probably has another three days to live.
Baekhyun wraps the scarf tighter around his neck and walks into the cafe.
The cafe is uncharacteristically full, people hiding indoors to stay away from the biting cold. The sound of chatter is loud and bordering on unpleasant. Baekhyun purchases a drink and scans the crowd, feet shuffling awkwardly in place. There is a table at the corner occupied by a single person, table crammed with a laptop and a black duffel bag, and Baekhyun makes his way there.
"Hi, do you mind if I -" he starts and the man looks up to meets his eyes and reaches forward to grab his bag off the table, dropping it haphazardly on the floor with a loud thud. His eyes drop back to the screen of the laptop. Baekhyun frowns a little but remains quiet, settling himself into the now vacant area.
Baekhyun is sipping on his iced latte (he has always liked a cold drink on a cold day) when the man closes the cover of his laptop and looks at him. Baekhyun looks at him too and there's something about his flame that catches his attention, the hints of blue at the edges more pronounced than any he has ever seen. It is undeniably pretty and transfixing.
"That was rude of me, wasn't it?" he asks and Baekhyun cocks his head, confused. The man gestures awkwardly. "Just now, when you asked for the seat." Silence overtakes their little spot even as the rest of the cafe continues its chatter.
"No - no it's fine. You're busy, I can see that," Baekhyun replies after a long pause. "Don't think too much about it."
The man smiles shyly, a little tilt at the corner of his lips. "Sorry - I'm not terribly good with people."
It's obvious Baekhyun wants to say. Instead, he allows himself to laugh and stretches out a hand towards him. "Hi, I'm Baekhyun."
The hand that shakes his own is tentative yet firm, quiet strength in the grip that lines against bare forearms.
"Zitao."
⌑
He sees Zitao again the following Wednesday, sitting at the same table at the exact same position, hunched close towards his laptop screen and typing furiously with earbuds stuck into his ears. The frappe on his table has melted into liquid and the whipped cream is just clumps of white floating on top of the drink. The cup is still full, as if he had bought it just so he could remain in the cafe.
He doesn't call out to Zitao. After all, they are not friends, just strangers that happened to share a table once and know each other's names. He buys his coffee - a usual soy latte with two extra shots of espresso - and leaves the cafe.
He stops to turn at the door, frigid wind already cold against his neck. Zitao looks up at the same time.
They make eye contact.
Baekhyun turns to leave. He attributes the heat crawling up his neck to the warmness of his scarf.
⌑
Baekhyun doesn't believe in fate or destiny, none of that meant-to-be bullshit. Even with his "light vision", Baekhyun doesn't believe in magic. He thinks the notion is incredibly lazy and just not possible. Coincidences happen because there's only so much that can happen in the world and sometimes paths cross. He doesn't know why people read into them, but he refuses to waste his time on such fleeting matters.
Dark eyes and darker hair stay with him, but he is sure people - everybody - finds Zitao attractive. It's the slope of his nose and how inset his eyes are, it is the way veins snake across his forearm, promising strength. It had been his unusually blue flame. He doesn't remember Zitao because he wants to, he remembers Zitao because he has, no one could forget a face like that.
So when he sees Zitao again for the third Wednesday in a row, Baekhyun squashes down the little voices at the back of his head and instead rationalizes it - Zitao just happens to be here on Wednesdays, nothing more. The cafe is too full again and Zitao is alone. Baekhyun tightens his grip on his drink and walks towards him.
Zitao looks up just as he reaches the edge of the table, tugging the earbuds out of his ears. There is a smile on his face.
"Baekhyun, right?" he asks and Baekhyun is surprised that Zitao still remembers him, even if he does still remember Zitao. Baekhyun nods and gestures to the empty seat.
"Thank you - Zitao," he feigns tentativeness, even though the name has seeped itself into the folds of his mind.
"You remember me." It is a statement not a question, with a hint of amazement and a grin clinging to each word.
"Well, you remember me too," Baekhyun retorts. Zitao chuckles.
"You're not an easy person to forget, Baekhyun."
They work in relative silence, Zitao with the buds back in his ears and Baekhyun finishing up a powerpoint presentation before he does something more for leisure, surfing the internet for absolutely nothing. He starts reading an article about Urban Legends or something; he isn't really concentrating, not when Zitao is singing along to his song under his breath, loud enough for Baekhyun to hear.
It is in a foreign language, yet distinctively Asian in flavour. Baekhyun stops reading in favour of staring at the back of Zitao's laptop. There's a little decal on it, an oddly familiar cartoon panda with a stick of bamboo in his hand, wielded like a martial arts pole, he's sure he has seen i -
"Do you want to listen?" Zitao's voice asks and Baekhyun notices the bud waving in his direction. He can't help but jump a little.
Baekhyun takes the dangling earbud from Zitao's hand and the wire isn't long enough so he has lean forward to stick it into his ear, stomach digging into the edge of the rounded table.
Zitao clicks on something and the song begins from the start again. It is a nice enough tune, a little generic and boring but the way Zitao mouths to the lyrics is slightly captivating and Baekhyun's eyes are transfixed on his lips. Zitao has nice lips. A little pale sure, but nicely shaped and entirely kissable. Baekhyun forces that thought down.
"What do you think?" Zitao prompts after the song ends, tugging his earbuds back to him. Baekhyun blinks a few times at him, regaining his focus.
"I don't understand it," he blurts out lamely and Zitao chuckles. It is a nice sort of laugh, loud and vibrating underneath his skin and dancing pleasantly across his bones. It's a laugh that seeps through his pores and flits around in him. Baekhyun likes it, a lot.
Baekhyun's heart does a skip, a tiny flip that he ignores.
"Yeah, it's Chinese - I'm not exactly from around here."
"What is it about?"
Zitao's face lights up at the question. "Meteor showers, shooting stars, 流星."
Baekhyun scrunches his face in confusion, repeating the word he doesn't recognize slowly, inflections all wrong.
Zitao's face scrunches up, as if he was trying to hold in a loud burst of laughter. Baekhyun huffs in response.
"It's Chinese," Zitao explains inadequately as he picks up his frappe and takes a slow sip from the rim of the cup rather than from the straw. He cringes. "Too sweet."
There is foam lining across the top of Zitao's lips, frothy white and stark.
"Foam," Baekhyun says as he gestures to his own mouth. Zitao blinks at him and rubs a hasty hand across his mouth but doesn't get everything. "There's still -," Baekhyun lifts a hand awkwardly, wanting to rub it away but his fingers pause inches away from Zitao's face.
"Here," he gestures lamely at the missed spot. His heart is doing ridiculous leaps and bounces in his chest, as if he was just another hormonal teenage boy. Zitao's eyes are darker and more curious, something about his gaze that unnerves Baekhyun.
"Thank you," Zitao says when his face is foam-free. Baekhyun shrugs a response, concentrating too hard on his accelerated heartbeat.
The next hour is tension-filled yet not exactly awkward. Instead, it has a hint of anticipation and possibility and Baekhyun should say something, ask Zitao out on a date, for coffee, for dinner, for anything but he doesn't.
Zitao keeps shooting him glances that he probably doesn't think Baekhyun catches but Baekhyun does and he does not know quite how to react or deal with these looks.
Ten minutes later, Baekhyun hears the resolute click of a laptop closing and looks up from his own.
"I'm leaving," Zitao announces as he slides his laptop into his bag.
Baekhyun doesn't know what he's suppose to say. "Okay," he settles on awkwardly.
"I'll be here again, next Wednesday. Just uhm - see you?" Zitao tries. Baekhyun's heart flutters again.
"Yeah - yeah, okay."
Baekhyun really does like Zitao's smile.
⌑
Except Baekhyun and Zitao meet again on Monday morning, Baekhyun rushing into his office after a late Sunday night with Chanyeol (which had consist of watching The X Factor: US and Chanyeol rolling his eyes every time Demi spoke and Baekhyun chin-facing every time Emblem 3 came on rather than a wild night of booze and hook ups).
"Sorry, I am lat -" his words die in his throat when he sees Zitao - the Zitao - standing in the conference room, dressed sharply in a suit. He swallows harshly.
The voice in the back of his head, one that is awfully romantic and who fantasizes more than imagines, starts throwing out words like destiny and meant to be and Baekhyun has to shove all these stupid notions to a wasteland in his mind.
Zitao has an equally surprised look on his face, mouth in a little pale o. Baekhyun rubs at his eyes. Could this be a dream? Could his subconscious be so enthralled with Zitao that he is dreaming of him? Could this be -
"Mr. Byun," his supervisor says loudly and Baekhyun jolts up immediately. He can almost hear Zitao's chuckle in his ear but when he looks up, his face is blank, only a little crook to his lips giving him away.
"You'll be taking over as Mr. Huang's agent for a while, since Joonmyun is going on his honeymoon. I'm sure you know who Mr. Huang is."
Everyone knows who Mr. Huang is. Mr Huang, or known more fondly by his alias Little Peach, is the author of the generation. He has raked in millions in profit through movie deals, book signings, appearances and even endorsements. Little Peach writes books that touch the hearts of people and whose fiction mirrors reality so close it is slightly scary.
Nothing much is known about Little Peach, except that he is male and single. Baekhyun had always pictured an old, experienced man slogging away at an ancient keyboard when people talked about him. He never expected him to be this young and attractive.
Baekhyun thinks back to Zitao and the cafe and the panda delca pops into his mind, the panda that is Zitao's signature mascot, printed on the back of every book he writes.
Holy shit, Zitao is Little Peach.
"Nice to see you again, Baekhyun, I am in your care," Zitao sticks a hand out towards him. Baekhyun looks at it for longer than he should before he takes it. Zitao is being professional and polite and Baekhyun is so fumbly beside him. The handshake is firm, like the one back at the cafe and Baekhyun smiles, just a little.
⌑
"So, you're a millionaire writer," Baekhyun says as he closes the door to his office and winces at how bad a conversation opener it is. He walks stiffly towards the side of his cram office and pours himself a cup of tea. "Tea?" he asks.
Zitao hums in agreement and Baekhyun pours two cups, sitting on his side of the table and sliding the guest mug across to Zitao. It had been a gift - a gag gift - from Chanyeol, coloured an eye catching hot pink with the words "baby girl" scrawled around it. Baekhyun had been too lazy to buy a proper mug and besides, he never really had had to handle such a big client, a proper mug didn't seem all too necessary.
"This is an interesting mug," Zitao comments as he raises it to his mouth. The air is fraught with awkwardness and Baekhyun sees tension on Zitao's shoulders, in the way that they are scrunched up towards him and the way his back is held stiff. Baekhyun crosses his legs at the ankles.
"It was a gift," Baekhyun replies without much thought, "so uhm - what did Joonmyun assist you in? I know different writers treat their agents differently so what do I have to do?"
"Joonmyun made sure I finished my drafts. He made a timetable and everything. Made sure I ate, slept and got a minimum of six hours of human contact in a week."
"He sounds like your babysitter," Baekhyun blurts out before he can stop himself. Instead of looking pissed off, Zitao laughs instead, and it is an inviting sound, full of mirth and gaiety that makes Baekhyun smile in return.
"I guess."
The conversation ends and gets replaced by an awkward silence, one that has Baekhyun drumming his foot against the floor, right against the one creaky tile in his whole office. Zitao sips continuously on his tea, cup held against his lips without change.
"...Why don't you show me one of those timetables Joonmyun did for you? So I can work something out that will suit you. What else did he do for you that needs immediate attention?" Baekhyun finally settles on. Zitao sets his mug on the table.
"I need groceries, the milk in the fridge is going to expire soon."
Baekhyun blinks at him expectedly, expecting Zitao to tell him that it was just a joke, something said to break the ice, but Zitao looks back at him eagerly and he knows it is no joke.
⌑
So Baekhyun finds himself at a supermarket aisle, one hand gripping the handlebars of the trolley and the other holding a shopping list that he has to squint at. Zitao's handwriting is clunky and scrawly at the same time and Baekhyun isn't quite sure if he is reading it right or not.
He has never had to do anything like this for his other clients, his own preferring to work in legitimate solitude and only contacting him sporadically via text or email. Most of Baekhyun's job had just been to send reminders of deadlines and pitching their drafts to possibly interested publishers. Zitao is probably different though, he concludes, since he is an almost guaranteed seller and Joonmyun had most likely never had to run around in the rain with his manuscript clutched tightly to his body as he made his way from one publisher house to the other.
Baekhyun grabs a box of cereal from the shelf as he ponders over Zitao. He would never had linked Zitao to Little Peach, to someone whose words he admittedly idolizes. Partially it is the warped image he had of the author in his head and partially because it is a little intimidating to know that someone he has sort of interacted with is someone so well-known and loved by so many; it makes Zitao feel faraway, unattainable, like a full moon that Baekhyun will never grasp in his hands.
He shakes that notion off because it is stupid to think of it this way - Zitao and he are barely friends and all they have right now is a working relationship. Baekhyun kind of wishes that Zitao and him had remained just cafe buddies and that Zitao would have revealed to him his identity after they became real friends, so Baekhyun could pick at his brain without feeling like it was crossing a line. It is a little awkward to ask someone who you are working for about their thought processes and stuff, especially when the constraints of their relationship acted as a barrier.
The shopping list tells him he has to grab potato chips (and only the cheese flavoured ones) so he pushes the trolley to the next aisle.
⌑
When he gets to Zitao's loft an hour later (a loft that is literally five minutes away from the cafe), his hands are full of groceries so he has to kick the toe of shoe against the door.
There is no response.
Baekhyun gets on his toes and angles his arm so his elbow jams against the doorbell, the harsh plastic bags digging into the skin of his forearm. He hears rustling from the other side, almost like the sound of a pigeon getting out of its nest and soon the door opens up to reveal Zitao, hair disheveled and dressed in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants.
"Uhm - groceries," Baekhyun manages to articulate, jiggling the bags full of food to demonstrate his point. Zitao grunts in approval and makes space for Baekhyun to walk into his loft. Baekhyun looks at him quizzically. "I was just going to leave these and go."
"Joonmyun sometimes hung out with me here, checks my real time process and stuff. Why don't you come in?" Zitao insists. Baekhyun blinks at him once and does exactly so.
Zitao's loft is oddly impersonal for someone who seems so connected to the world of human emotions, bare white walls and display shelves devoid of ornaments that would hint at ownership and homeliness. The most lived in part of the place seemed to be the ridiculous worn out king size bed at the edge, illuminated by the lamp that stood on the bedside drawer next to it.
Baekhyun drops the bags of groceries on to the first table he can find and stands near it awkwardly as Zitao shuffles back to the bed and stacks the blankets, a failed attempt to straightening up the place. His eyes continue to roam the place, taking in the expensive furniture (marbled tabletops and polished cupboards) and the lack of anything else.
"Want to help me put all of these away? You bought a lot, more than Joonmyun ever did," Zitao asks from the table, jolting Baekhyun out of his trance. Baekhyun jumps a little internally and nods, in a daze.
They pack the groceries in mutual silence, Baekhyun occasionally piping up to ask Zitao where to put something, the higher cupboard or the lower one. They end up standing next to each other, reaching for adjoining cupboards and elbows bumping sporadically as Zitao stacks the canned food and Baekhyun stuffs the other full of potato chips. The atmosphere is fraught with something Baekhyun doesn't want to identify, and Zitao's body is just bordering on too distracting.
Baekhyun spends the rest of the day watching silently as Zitao alternates between typing and watching videos on YouTube. They talk too, conversations that are a little too polite for Baekhyun's liking. Zitao tells him very vaguely about his thought process (I don't think linearly, after all, the world is more of a ball of yarn than anything else) and his preference for coffee without sugar. Baekhyun had frowned at that and asked him to drink drain water instead; Zitao had snorted at his lack of class.
They come up with a schedule too; Zitao will email Baekhyun every day at ten to update on his status and Baekhyun would fulfill everything Zitao needed. Joonmyun had already drawn up timetables and flowcharts for the next month so everything there was in place. Baekhyun had left after eating a dinner of instant noodles in front of the television, watching Glee on reruns as Zitao pointed out every continuity error.
It feels domestic in an odd sense, like there's a current of disassociation and lack of closeness between them even though everything else seems in place.
⌑
They meet again on Wednesday, at the same cafe again at the same table. Baekhyun can't say that he wasn't hoping that Zitao would be there but it is still a pleasant surprise to see Zitao when he walks in, hunched over a laptop, hands furiously flying over the keyboard (even though Baekhyun knows now that most of the time Zitao is chatting online with strangers on Life Issues rather than typing his story).
Zitao looks up just as he reaches the edge of the table and smiles up at him. "You're here."
"Y-yeah."
Silence overtakes them as Baekhyun pulls out the chair to sit down. He takes his laptop out of its case and boots it up. Zitao continues to look at him while his fingers move across the keyboard of his laptop.
"Why do you come here?" Zitao asks suddenly and Baekhyun jolts up from surprise, having been transfixed at the circles winding around themselves on his screen as his laptop starts.
"I like coffee," Baekhyun replies simply. Zitao doesn't respond and Baekhyun winces at how boring his answer must have been. "And Chanyeol - that's my flatmate - has Wednesday afternoons off and he can be a menace to be around sometimes."
Zitao frowns at that. "Do you not get along with your flatmate?"
Baekhyun shakes his head vehemently. "He's my closest friend - he's just really grouchy mid-week, has been since college."
They work in silence as per usual, the sound of fingers against keyboard the only thing that meets their ears.
"You know," Zitao says after a while, catching Baekhyun when he is deep in concentration on his work. Baekhyun looks up. "We keep meeting here by coincidence. Maybe we should meet up on purpose."
Baekhyun's mouth runs dry. "Like, on a date?" he blurts out without thinking. He feels himself start to flush after the words leave his mouth.
Zitao laughs, jerkily and surprised. "Yeah I guess - or no like a non-date - a... a purposeful meeting, not for work but just for... meeting."
Baekhyun inhales. "I would like to go on a... purposeful meeting with you."
Zitao's smile is something that he will start to look forward to, because it fills his heart up.
⌑
Their purposeful meeting ends up to be sort of their first date, fairly normal and almost cliche. They meet in the afternoon and watch a movie, Zitao stealing popcorn out of Baekhyun's bag and sipping on Baekhyun's drink by accident more than once. Baekhyun holds his popcorn closer to Zitao's side and Zitao nudges his shoulder as thanks.
They have dinner after, sitting in a warm restaurant sipping on soup as they wait for their main course to come. The conversation is smooth and casual, yet holds hint of trying to understand each other more. There's also a tentativeness, a careful exploration of the other seen through the pauses as they tried to recreate sentences and make questions seem as impersonal as possible without sounding cold. Baekhyun laughs at a joke Zitao make and Zitao kicks him from the under the table, toe of his shoe light against Baekhyun's shin. Baekhyun just laughs harder.
Baekhyun doesn't kiss Zitao at the end of the date and Zitao doesn't try to do so either. They part at the restaurant with a hug and see you laters.
(If he was to speak the truth, Baekhyun had been a little disappointed.)
⌑
"I'm going to kiss you if you don't stop talking," Baekhyun warns, more a joke than anything. Zitao pouts childishly and jabbers on about how ridiculous this scene he was writing was and how he was going to lose all his sales and would have to find a new job soon.
Zitao has these moments of blinding anxiety, where doubts chew into his confidence of his own talents and fear seeps into his words. It makes Baekhyun want to grab his shoulder and shake him hard, makes him want to dig out his dog-eared copy of Zitao's first book and show him how much of an impact he is in people's lives.
Baekhyun isn't sure where this random surge of confidence is from but he grabs the lapels of Zitao's jacket so the latter is facing him. Zitao stops speaking.
"I'm going to kiss you now," he says, voice steady but heart wobbly.
"Okay," Zitao replies, voice one that is off balance.
So Baekhyun leans in and press his lips against the softness of Zitao's ones. It is just a chaste meeting of lips and Baekhyun has kissed a lot of people, he's a grown man after all, but he doesn't remember anyone that has made his toes curl like Zitao does, especially when he worries against Baekhyun's bottom lip with his teeth.
He could get used to kissing Huang Zitao.
⌑
Baekhyun feels at ease with Zitao, more so than he has ever felt with anyone else. There's a comfort that sinks into his skin and soothes his nerves when he is tired, and Zitao's smile makes him smile in response, wide and grinning.
There are times where he wants to tell Zitao about his vision but he remembers the promise to himself from years back and bites his tongue. He doesn't want disbelief to colour the look in Zitao's eyes, doesn't want the possible reaction of unease and even maybe disgust. He doesn't want Zitao to look at him and wonder what he sees when Baekhyun looks at him.
He's taking a risk with this he knows, because Zitao has come to mean a lot in such a short period of time and if Baekhyun ever saw Zitao's light dim he isn't sure how he would even react. Call him selfish, but he would rather be with someone's death he could handle an inch more rationally than be with someone who means something to him.
But Zitao is like magnet and Baekhyun is just a piece of metal. He is attracted beyond belief and he can't seem to pull himself away from the hands on his arms and smiles that belong to him. He likes having Zitao around, likes being around Zitao.
"What are we?" Zitao asks him one day, out of the blue. They are crowded onto Zitao's pathetic excuse for a couch, bed abandoned because Zitao can't be bothered to change the grape juice stained bedsheet yet. Baekhyun looks at him, puzzled.
Zitao worries at the edge of the cushion with his fingers. "We date and everything but... what are we?"
"B-boyfriends?" Baekhyun asks and Zitao's response is a snort, almost instantaneous. Baekhyun shoves him against the shoulder in embarrassment.
"That sounds oddly juvenile," Zitao finally replies. Baekhyun huffs.
"You said we were dating and everything," Baekhyun tries to reason. Zitao sobers up and moves even closer on the already small piece of furniture. Baekhyun's heart accelerates (he really hates when it does that).
"Do you want to be my boyfriend, Baekhyun? Boyfriend Baekhyun has a nice ring to it."
Baekhyun can't help the little jerky laughter that leaves him.
"Aren't I already your boyfriend, Boyfriend Zitao."'
⌑
Baekhyun is in love with Zitao.
Baekhyun realizes he is in love with Zitao on a sweltering Wednesday, the sun sitting high in the sky and beating down mercilessly on the earth.
Baekhyun is in love with the way Zitao laughs, the way it sinks into his skin.
Baekhyun is in love with the way Zitao thinks, is amazed at his grasp of the human emotion and mind.
Baekhyun is in love with the way Zitao drinks coffee (all milk no sugar), the way he only wears black and sometimes blue and white, the way his lips curve into a light pout when he is asking for something and the way his fingers brush against Baekhyun's lower back when they kiss.
He never wants to see Zitao smile that one crooked smile at anyone but him, he wants to mark along the length of Zitao's spine, tiny little marks that will prove that Zitao is his alone. Baekhyun wants to wake up next to Zitao every morning, brush the floppy fringe out of his face and kiss his eyelids to wake him up.
Baekhyun is in love with the way Zitao's nose scrunches up when he has to do the dishes, and the way he steals the popcorn when they watch a movie and finishes his drink before Baekhyun can even take a sip.
Baekhyun is in love with Zitao.
The revelation sends his head reeling and guts churning.
⌑
Baekhyun has tried to tell Chanyeol about his vision once, on a night with too much alcohol and too much schoolwork to be bothered with. Chanyeol is laughing over something on the television and Baekhyun nurses his drink quietly, head throbbing. He had seen something today that he didn't want to, a person with dimmed light buying a coil of rope at the convenience store.
"I have to tell you something," he blurts out, voice almost inaudible over the din from the television. He regrets his words as soon as they leave his mouth and he prays that Chanyeol didn't heard him.
Chanyeol turns back to look at him, eyebrow twitching in question. Baekhyun downs whatever is left in his cup, the weak burn not helping in his anxiety.
"What's up, Baekhyun?" Chanyeol probes.
"I have never told anyone this, but I have this thing where I can see a light in everyone and I know when somebody is going to die."
Chanyeol blinks at him blankly and Baekhyun thinks maybe just maybe Chanyeol believes in him. That is, until Chanyeol bursts out in laughter, reaching forward to thump him against his chest.
"You suck at pranking and making jokes. I'm not that drunk yet, Byun Baekhyun," his voice is riddled with amusement and disbelief, and Baekhyun forces a laugh back to him.
"I thought you would be intoxicated enough to believe me," he chokes back a reply.
They never bring it up again, because Chanyeol probably doesn't remember and Baekhyun realizes how ridiculous this whole thing sounds when he tries to put it into words.
That is, until The Incident.
It had just been a normal day, the weather cool without being chilly and the humidity at a good level, it was a perfect day even. Chanyeol and him had been walking to the convenience store, chatting animatedly about a television show before a piercing scream had disrupted the otherwise peaceful atmosphere.
It was followed very closely by a loud crash.
Chanyeol had went to look at the girl, to see if there was anything he could do before the ambulance came. Baekhyun had glanced very briefly at the scene of the accident, see the dimmed light of the casualty, and without much thought, told Chanyeol that the woman was going to die and it wasn't worth it to stay.
There must have been something in Baekhyun's eyes that day - lack of care, disregard - because Chanyeol just nodded softly and allowed Baekhyun to bring him to the convenience store, the former not even sparing a glance back.
That night in their shared apartment, Chanyeol had sat Baekhyun down and made him promise not to ever tell him when his light was dimmed or whatever, that if Chanyeol's light was dim, Baekhyun was going to have to pretend like everything was alright and treat Chanyeol as per normal. Baekhyun had agreed.
That night, Baekhyun swore to himself to never tell anyone ever about his vision.
⌑
Death is an inevitability. It is not a specific event or a specific occurrence that will bring someone away from the realm of the living; it is a specific time, a specific.
There's no stopping death when it comes. It is as if everyone in the world had an expiry date and death was merely what happened when your time was up.
⌑
The first time Baekhyun tells Zitao that he loved him is also on a Wednesday. The cafe has become something of a routine for them, a concrete and maybe even permanent fixation in their relationship. Sometimes they came together, sometimes they came one by one, it didn't matter. Baekhyun likes it, likes the routine and familiarity and the feeling of secrecy when he slips into the chair and smiles at Zitao over the edge of his laptop screen.
"Hello," Zitao greets when he arrives, closing the screen of his laptop. Baekhyun smiles back, feeling oddly giddy.
"Hello," he says back. Zitao raises an eyebrow at the amusement in his voice.
"You sound overwhelmingly happy today."
"That's because I love you," Baekhyun says, and then freezes. Zitao's eyes go big (and they look really comical that way, Baekhyun decides) before they go undeniably soft, melting into a smile.
"I love you too," he replies, and Baekhyun's heart picks up speed, almost like the first time he had met Zitao at this very same spot and this moment feels oddly full circle, like something has come to a resolution, a possibility that has allowed itself to be filled up so much that it is now plain reality.
The rest of the day passes by in almost mundane, normal matter, except for the fact that Zitao's foot remains a solid weight against his own.
⌑
The first time they have sex is spontaneous and quick, Zitao murmuring hurry hurry hurry as Baekhyun unbuttons his shirt, thin cotton suddenly as constricting as steel. Zitao laughs when Baekhyun's fingers fumble on the buttons and their ridiculously small corresponding holes, teasing Baekhyun's fingers for being too long to function. He then reaches forward to pull Baekhyun's hands away and unbuttons the shirt himself, veins on his arms visible against the soft glow of the moonlight. Baekhyun's breath quickens without his consent even as he tries to calm it down, inhaling and exhaling shakily with resolve.
The shirt drops onto the floor soon and Zitao doesn't waste a second, crowding Baekhyun until the bend of his knees are pressed against the edge of the bed and he falls ungracefully onto the bed. He doesn't get much time to recover because Zitao's face is suddenly above his own, so close and so real but yet almost ethereal, framed by the soft light.
"You're so gorgeous," Zitao breathes against his skin, breath leaving moisture against Baekhyun's cheek. Baekhyun exhales noisily.
"Kiss me," he says instead and Zitao does, Zitao leans down and captures Baekhyun's lips in his own. The kiss is slow for a moment before it catches speed, becomes almost desperate, teeth marring the soft skin of lips and fingers tangled into hair that tug and pull as they please. Zitao ruts against him and Baekhyun can't help the gasp that leaves his lips or the way he arches closer for more contact, for more friction.
It doesn't take long for Zitao to be rustling through his bedside drawer for condoms and lube, Baekhyun's body on fire with nerves and arousal as he waits. He plucks the packet from Zitao's hand and tears it open shakily, Zitao laughing at the way his fingers keep slipping.
The first push in burns uncomfortably even though Zitao had prepped him with his fingers, and Baekhyun holds his breath and squirms. Zitao murmurs words of comfort into his ear as he pushes in slowly, achingly slow. He pauses when he's fully seated and Baekhyun feels so full, so full of Zitao.
Zitao makes Baekhyun shower first after, urging him eagerly as he flops against the bed. Baekhyun stands under the steaming hot water and scrubs his skin. There are the start of bruises beneath his collar bones and he presses fingers into them, sighing with something that feels like contentment.
⌑
Their first anniversary is nothing flashy or showy. They don't throw a party or invite guests, don't announce it on any social networking sites or make friends buy them gifts. They spend it at Zitao's loft, attempting to cook something nice for themselves for dinner, Zitao frowning openly at the cookbook as Baekhyun gingerly dices the garlic.
They end up calling for takeout anyway, since Zitao misreads the oven settings and the chicken is burnt to inedible. They order too much for two but it allows for a decent variety and Baekhyun enjoys it when Zitao feeds him pieces of carrots from his own plate.
"I have a gift for you," Zitao says cautiously when they finish and are lying on Zitao's bed, Zitao graciously on the side with the loose spring.
"I thought we promised no gifts," Baekhyun chides playfully, rolling over onto his side to look at Zitao. Zitao turns his head to look at him.
"I know...this just seems like the right time though," Zitao replies almost sheepishly but there's an undercurrent of nervousness in his voice. It piques Baekhyun's curiosity.
"Okay," he relents and Zitao practically bounces off the bed, walking large strides across the loft to get to a drawer on the other end. Baekhyun admires the view of Zitao's ass as he rummages through a low drawer.
"Here," Zitao says, passing Baekhyun a small box. It looks like it might contain jewelry but it is too big for it to be a ring. The box has a tacky ribbon on it and it is an obnoxious shade of bright pink. "I couldn't find any other box, the shop had a huge order from somewhere and this was the only box left," Zitao explains hurriedly, as if he had heard Baekhyun's thoughts.
Baekhyun bites his bottom lip and opens the box.
It is a key, dull metal glinting at him.
"Oh," he breathes, not sure how to react. He thinks he knows the implication of this, of Zitao giving him a key, giving him a place in his loft and his life. It feels like commitment and a promise of even more tied into a small box and a piece of metal. He looks at the key and can't really process the fact that this is real, that they are real.
"I hope this key leads me to a new car," he jokes shakily, voice more unstable than he thought it would be, "and I hope it is an expensive car, you know I want a -"
"Will you move in with me, Byun Baekhyun? I'm not asking for forever, I know how you feel about that, but I am asking for now."
Baekhyun looks at Zitao and the shine in his eyes, looks at the way his mouth is tilted in eagerness and the way his light burns so blue. Baekhyun looks at Zitao and sees someone he loves and someone he could live with.
Baekhyun says yes.
⌑
Sometimes it is difficult not to believe that they were meant to be, that their meeting and joining had not been written in the stars, crafted even before they had been moulded into flesh and bones.
There's just something unreal about the way their hands fit when Zitao links their fingers together, how Baekhyun's fingers fill up the spaces in between Zitao's fingers and the way his palm sits snugly against his own that speaks of something that cannot be explained merely by logic and evolution.
It is the way that Zitao smiles at him, all those different quirks of his mouth and twitches in his face that convince Baekhyun that meeting Zitao was possibly at least inevitable.
⌑
Life with Zitao sits well with Baekhyun. He doesn't find himself getting sick of Zitao and his smiles, of his general laziness and his insistent whines. Instead, he finds them more and more endearing as the days pass and his heart still trembles that slight bit in Zitao's presence.
Baekhyun's life might not have fallen in the routine he had decided on when he was younger (and Baekhyun doesn't like it when things don't go as plan), but this was one event that Baekhyun didn't mind losing control over.
He still doesn't believe in forever and eternity, but he hopes to have Zitao for "as long as he can".
⌑
Baekhyun thinks the way it happens is too underwhelming, too mundane, too normal, especially when he feels as if someone had taken a scissors and slice through the threads of his life.
It happens without any warning, no prompt or nagging at the back of his head. One moment Zitao's flame was burning bright and blue and he looks away for a split second and, and -
It's dim. Zitao's flame is dim, diminished, light, weak, dim.
Baekhyun's fucking soul hitches in his throat and he can't breathe. Zitao is still lounging against the bed and smiling lazily at him, patting the side of bed that is empty. Zitao is going to die - is gesturing for him to come to him.
Baekhyun can't - he -
Chanyeol's words echo in his ears loudly but too muffled to string together and all he remembers is inevitable...not your fault...helpless and everything seems sluggish.
Zitao is frowning now; he can see the way the smile slides off his face as if it is in slow-motion and technicolour, sees Zitao crawling the length of the bed to close up the distance and ask what's wrong.
Wrong, everything was wrong. There is panic and fear and liquid prickling the corner of his eyes and Baekhyun has to bite on his lip hard to stop himself from crying.
"Nothing," he manages to start and his voice is shaky with fear, "I just, I - I just remembered that movie we watched last night, the sad one."
Zitao raises an eyebrow and chuckles at that answer and picks up one of Baekhyun's hand in his own, cradling it to his chest. "You're so silly. You can tell me anything, you know that right?"
The way Zitao is looking at him makes his heart swell and clench at the same time. This heartache feels so physical and real, as if he could actually die from the pain, the knowledge that Zitao was going to die.
"I am, aren't I? Silly, that is," he replies, voice shaking with the exertion of trying to sound calm. Zitao laughs again and tugs him hard enough so he ends up sprawled on the bed, chin hitting the mattress almost painfully. He makes an indignant sound of protest but Zitao silences him with his mouth.
Baekhyun allows himself to pretend, just for a little while longer.
⌑
Baekhyun has had practice pretending, has had to look at his coworker's dimmed light even as he wished her a happy engagement, has had to learn to stop himself from telling someone with a dimmed light to not cross the busy road.
But this - this - is the performance of his fucking life. It is calculated laughter and blocking things out so thoroughly that he allows himself to relax around Zitao. It is stopping himself from booking them a flight to the most deserted place in the world so that nothing could steal away the last bit of time he has with Zitao. It is about listening to Zitao talk about the future - a future he will not be a part of - with so much excitement and hope clinched on to every word and plan.
"My next book is going to be about us. Not a biography, of course, but the essence of our story," Zitao murmurs against his flushed neck as they settle for the night.
Something chokes itself in Baekhyun's throat. "I - I can't wait for it," he manages to stutter out and he feels more than sees Zitao smile next to him, lips pressed against his skin.
"I can't wait for you to read it."
Baekhyun doesn't reply, not when there is nothing left in him but extreme sadness and tears. He snuggles closer to Zitao and takes a deep breath instead.
⌑
Zitao brings him out two nights later, driving the car and refusing to divulge where he is bringing them to. The sky is grey with the possibility of rain and Baekhyun sees Zitao looks up at it and frown at it sporadically, before he turns and graces Baekhyun with a little smile.
He drives them up to a small hill, one with green grass and a clear view of the sky. It starts to rain, to pour just when Zitao stops the car and Zitao groans in frustration.
"I brought you up here for a picnic, alas," he says as he reaches back to grab something from the backseat of the car. It is an honest to god picnic basket, weaved straw and a checkered cloth that covers the top of it. Baekhyun can't help but let out a small laugh when Zitao tugs the cloth away, revealing neatly packed sandwiches and tupperwares in multi-colours. "I made your favourite potato salad; it is a little chunky though. I am going to call it success though, since I didn't burn down the kitchen."
Baekhyun can't help the snort that leaves him.
Zitao ignores his complete lack of confidence and lays out the food on any available surface that he can find, which leaves a lot of the tupperware balancing precariously on small surfaces, considering the fact that they are in a car. It is still raining and Baekhyun chases raindrops on the window with his finger as Zitao lays out the food.
"I brought you up here because there's supposedly a meteor shower today, not that we can see anything with this rain," Zitao sighs, passing a cup filled with lukewarm orange juice to Baekhyun.
"Maybe it will stop before it starts," Baekhyun comments as he sips on the juice.
"I thought it would be romantic you know - because of how we sort of talked because I forced you to listen to that one song."
Baekhyun feels heat crawling up to his face. He didn't think Zitao would remember that even though he does, remembers their first real interaction in all of its vivid awkwardness.
"I didn't think you would remember."
Zitao places his cup down on some anti-slip cloth and leans closer to Baekhyun, face just mere inches.
"If I believed in the notion of love at first sight, Baekhyun, that would be the moment I remember as the moment I fell in love with you."
⌑
It doesn't stop raining all night long and to make it worse, gray clouds block the vision of the sky from them. Zitao huffs in frustration as he keeps the used utensils back into the picnic basket and tosses a jacket towards Baekhyun's general direction. Baekhyun taps him against the nose playfully.
They do see the traces of light from behind the clouds though, and Zitao panics almost comically and makes Baekhyun make a wish. Baekhyun doesn't, because he does not believe in something as ridiculous in this, but the image of Zitao with his head bowed and his hands clasped in front of him makes something tighten uncomfortably in his chest. Baekhyun bows his own head and squeezes his eyes shut to stop the feeling from choking him.
"Do you want to know what wish I made?" Zitao asks after a moment of silence. Baekhyun looks up at him.
"Wishes don't come true when you tell them to others," he teases, voice more stable than he thought would be possible.
Zitao waves his hand dismissively. "When have you been one to believe in superstition anyway?"
Baekhyun offers another small laugh even as Zitao's light winks at him dimly. "Tell me then."
Zitao swallows audibly and Baekhyun's heart accelerates without warning when Zitao picks up his hands in his own. He grips them tightly, fingers crowding Baekhyun's.
"I wished that when I asked you a question, that you would say yes."
Baekhyun huffs in nervousness. "What question?"
Zitao lifts their joint hands and whispers against Baekhyun's knuckles, almost inaudible. "Will you promise me eternity if I promise it back to you?"
Baekhyun can't stop the gasp that leaves his lips or the way bile climbs up his throat. Zitao's light seems to mock him, twinkling even more dimly than it had a minute ago, the blue almost neon with the lack of all that yellow and orange.
Wishes really don't come true when you say them out loud.
"I know - I know you don't believe in forever but you - I - it feels right," Zitao is tripping over his words and his eyes are so earnest.
Baekhyun doesn't believe in forever and for eternity, doesn't quite believe in written in the fabric of time or met to be, but if Zitao's eternity is only for another day or two, he's going to say -
"Yes."
The way Zitao's eyes burn brighter than his light and the grin that engulfs his face is more than enough for Baekhyun to not regret his answer.
⌑
Baekhyun wakes up to gentle sunlight against his face, the rain from the previous night making the air just a touch colder with the windows of the car rolled down. He stretches languidly as he blindly reaches for his ringing phone, the music obnoxiously loud and out of place in such serene weather. His heart is his throat for no reason, a lump that screams something is wrong, and even though Baekhyun logically knows what could have went wrong, he chooses to ignore it. He fumbles to slide his finger against the screen to answer the call and puts it on loudspeaker before mumbling a sleepy hello.
"Where are you, Baekhyun?" It is Joonmyun's voice on the other end and it is oddly strained, poorly controlled. "Baekhyun, Zitao, Zitao, he - " Joonmyun's voice is choked up and it sounds like he is crying. Baekhyun vaguely registers voices in the backdrop of where Joonmyun is and it sounds like a hospital. A hospital.
He looks around the interior of the car and realize that Zitao isn't in it.
It can't be - It just fucking can't.
"Where's Zitao?" he manages to ask and his voice is already hinging on shaky. He is sitting up now, trembling gently everywhere even as he closes his eyes and hopes this is all a dream. Maybe Zitao got lost, maybe Zitao tripped because of the rain and broke his foot. Maybe Zitao -
"Zitao passed away, Baekhyun."
No.
It doesn't hurt less even though Baekhyun knew this was going to happen, had known that Zitao's death was inevitable, had even known for a few days. In fact, it hurts more. It hurts more because he had been unable to do anything, had been unable to protect Zitao. Having had the knowledge of Zitao's imminent passing made it feel like Baekhyun was obliged to do something; as if the knowledge itself came with a way to change the fact. He knows it isn't logical, has trained himself to stop feeling a pinch in his heart for anyone who was going to die but Zitao wasn't just anyone, Zitao was Zitao and it just wasn't - shouldn't had been his time yet.
Everyone dies but Baekhyun - fuck - Baekhyun should have tried to do something, locked him up in a room or begged on the wishing star to allow him to give his own light to Zitao but he had been too passive for too long.
And now Zitao is dead.
The tears don't surprise him. The shaking and sobbing and wheezing for air does.
⌑
It had been an accident, no one's fault. It had been foggy from the rain and the floor was still slippery. Zitao had probably been walking to the closest convenience store to get them breakfast and had missed the car coming from the sharp bend and the car hadn't been able to brake in time, ground still wet.
He had died on impact they say, painless.
Baekhyun doesn't think it is much consolation when the end effect is still the same.
⌑
The funeral is not something Baekhyun remembers with much details but yet it was going to remain as one of his most vivid memories. He remembers the endless black; clothing, the furniture, the atmosphere and he remembers the throngs of people that had come to give thanks to a writer that had changed their lives. He remembers being numb, so incredibly numb that he can't even cry, just sits there stonefaced as Chanyeol rubs soothing circles on to his back, mumbling you'll be okay over and over again.
(Chanyeol can be such an idiot sometimes. He's fine but Zitao will never be.)
The only time Baekhyun had shed a tear throughout the whole event was when that song - their song - had started to play across the speakers. It had started off with a single tear down his cheeks and escalated into full-fledged sobbing, his face buried into the crook of Chanyeol's neck and Joonmyun patting his back even as he himself bites down on his lips to hold back tears.
Funerals are supposed to be a final goodbye but Baekhyun can't bring himself to say that even to the cold, wooden casket that held Zitao's mangled, dead, body.
⌑
He fumbles on their - his bedside table for the bottle of sleeping pills. Sleep doesn't come easy now, not when every time he closes his eyes all he sees is Zitao and his smile, or feel phantom fingers lingering against the skin near his belly button, just like Zitao used to do every night as he spooned him from behind.
It's not even that sleep is good because dreams bring him into a world where Zitao is still alive and real and whole in his arms and not a person shattered by cuts and blood. Baekhyun would rather pretend everything is still in place and right rather than face the reality that Zitao will never smile at him again.
He yanks open the drawer, thinking that the pills will be there but they aren't. Instead, there is a bright pink post-it stuck to the bottom of it and a small blue box that accompanies it. His breath quickens.
Baekhyun picks up the box with shaky hands, and has to choke back a scream when the sight of two rings greets him, a matching pair. The chinese characters 流星 are carved into the inner curve of both. He picks one out and slides it on his finger and can't stop the tears at how nicely it fits his finger and how nice the other would look on Zitao's.
⌑
Dear Baekhyun,
I hope that when you have found these, it is after you have said yes.
I didn't want to bring these to the meteor shower because I was afraid that it might be too much, that a ring might scare you away. I know they aren't much, just plain silver, but they represent my promise to you - eternity and nothing less. I can't wait to see your face when you find this, I hope it is my favourite smile.
Always yours,
Huang Zitao
- if you have finished this i would like to offer you cookies (i am aware this fic veers dangerously into the needless angst category, but it was something i had to get out so i am sorry)
- special thanks to emo_what97 whom without this fic would not have been a reality. you didn't hold my hand through this, you practically piggybacked me as i curse and whine and every scene. you are a godsend.
-seulpeo for beta-ing!! thank you for being so brutally honest i need it. i love you.
- title is taken from ellie goulding's lights
- soundtrack while typing: curious (emblem 3) | sunset blvd (emblem 3) | heart attack (one direction) | give your heart a break (glee cast)
baekhyun doesn't believe in eternity or meant to be, but he believes in inevitability.
inspired by this edit by tb-cont
the dark is too hard to beat
Falling in love with a reclusive writer wasn't part of the blueprint that Baekhyun had meticulously planned out to direct his life.
It was supposed to go like this: graduate from university, find a well-paying job, marry a girl who had the same interests as him, have children, live a humble and mundane life, die (and maybe sing a little at the side but he knows songs don't put food on the table or wrap his feet in new shoes).
Yet here he was, pressed into the thin, worn out mattress of one Huang Zitao, a spring digging cruelly into the small of his back. Zitao has hands busy working his belt loose and a mouth hot on the tip of his ear, tongue lapping against it casually. Baekhyun arches towards him, desperate for more contact but Zitao's hands on his front still and Baekhyun stops moving.
"Stop being a tease," Baekhyun murmurs into the crook of Zitao's neck and is replied with a low chuckle that vibrates against his naked skin.
⌑
Or maybe he shouldn't be surprised that his life hadn't exactly gone as plan; Baekhyun has always been a little - how does one put it - different. Different in the way he can see lights burning steady in the hearts of everyone, a little flame that burns red blue yellow orange all at once. He had told his mother about it once when he was seven, pointing and tapping against her chest and asking why her flame was dimmer than everyone else's. She had looked at him with worry and amusement laced in one glance and told him to stop spouting nonsense.
He has never told her about his "light vision" again. After all, is it telling if one is speaking to the slab of stone that represents a person who had once been alive? Is it telling if there is no reaction and just the cold rush of the midnight cool against his skin but burning like acid at the back of his eyelids?
So he keeps it a secret until he is immune to the feelings it brings him. It had been hard at first, hard to face someone with a dimming light and still having to smile and act normal instead of picturing their body stuck amidst twisted metal and burnt leather, but time is the best provider of practice and soon Baekhyun seems to even lose the ability to care.
In fact, why should he? Everyone dies in the end anyway - why does it matter that he knew when they did?
⌑
He meets Zitao during the winter, when the ground is blanketed by a thin layer of snow, dirtied by people's footsteps and the exhaust fumes of cars as they pass by. Baekhyun kicks against it childishly and watches in mild amusement as the snow scatters under his feet. From the corner of his eye, he sees the flame of someone dim, as if someone had turn it down with a switch.
That someone has hands wrapped around a man, head turned up with a smile.
That someone probably has another three days to live.
Baekhyun wraps the scarf tighter around his neck and walks into the cafe.
The cafe is uncharacteristically full, people hiding indoors to stay away from the biting cold. The sound of chatter is loud and bordering on unpleasant. Baekhyun purchases a drink and scans the crowd, feet shuffling awkwardly in place. There is a table at the corner occupied by a single person, table crammed with a laptop and a black duffel bag, and Baekhyun makes his way there.
"Hi, do you mind if I -" he starts and the man looks up to meets his eyes and reaches forward to grab his bag off the table, dropping it haphazardly on the floor with a loud thud. His eyes drop back to the screen of the laptop. Baekhyun frowns a little but remains quiet, settling himself into the now vacant area.
Baekhyun is sipping on his iced latte (he has always liked a cold drink on a cold day) when the man closes the cover of his laptop and looks at him. Baekhyun looks at him too and there's something about his flame that catches his attention, the hints of blue at the edges more pronounced than any he has ever seen. It is undeniably pretty and transfixing.
"That was rude of me, wasn't it?" he asks and Baekhyun cocks his head, confused. The man gestures awkwardly. "Just now, when you asked for the seat." Silence overtakes their little spot even as the rest of the cafe continues its chatter.
"No - no it's fine. You're busy, I can see that," Baekhyun replies after a long pause. "Don't think too much about it."
The man smiles shyly, a little tilt at the corner of his lips. "Sorry - I'm not terribly good with people."
It's obvious Baekhyun wants to say. Instead, he allows himself to laugh and stretches out a hand towards him. "Hi, I'm Baekhyun."
The hand that shakes his own is tentative yet firm, quiet strength in the grip that lines against bare forearms.
"Zitao."
⌑
He sees Zitao again the following Wednesday, sitting at the same table at the exact same position, hunched close towards his laptop screen and typing furiously with earbuds stuck into his ears. The frappe on his table has melted into liquid and the whipped cream is just clumps of white floating on top of the drink. The cup is still full, as if he had bought it just so he could remain in the cafe.
He doesn't call out to Zitao. After all, they are not friends, just strangers that happened to share a table once and know each other's names. He buys his coffee - a usual soy latte with two extra shots of espresso - and leaves the cafe.
He stops to turn at the door, frigid wind already cold against his neck. Zitao looks up at the same time.
They make eye contact.
Baekhyun turns to leave. He attributes the heat crawling up his neck to the warmness of his scarf.
⌑
Baekhyun doesn't believe in fate or destiny, none of that meant-to-be bullshit. Even with his "light vision", Baekhyun doesn't believe in magic. He thinks the notion is incredibly lazy and just not possible. Coincidences happen because there's only so much that can happen in the world and sometimes paths cross. He doesn't know why people read into them, but he refuses to waste his time on such fleeting matters.
Dark eyes and darker hair stay with him, but he is sure people - everybody - finds Zitao attractive. It's the slope of his nose and how inset his eyes are, it is the way veins snake across his forearm, promising strength. It had been his unusually blue flame. He doesn't remember Zitao because he wants to, he remembers Zitao because he has, no one could forget a face like that.
So when he sees Zitao again for the third Wednesday in a row, Baekhyun squashes down the little voices at the back of his head and instead rationalizes it - Zitao just happens to be here on Wednesdays, nothing more. The cafe is too full again and Zitao is alone. Baekhyun tightens his grip on his drink and walks towards him.
Zitao looks up just as he reaches the edge of the table, tugging the earbuds out of his ears. There is a smile on his face.
"Baekhyun, right?" he asks and Baekhyun is surprised that Zitao still remembers him, even if he does still remember Zitao. Baekhyun nods and gestures to the empty seat.
"Thank you - Zitao," he feigns tentativeness, even though the name has seeped itself into the folds of his mind.
"You remember me." It is a statement not a question, with a hint of amazement and a grin clinging to each word.
"Well, you remember me too," Baekhyun retorts. Zitao chuckles.
"You're not an easy person to forget, Baekhyun."
They work in relative silence, Zitao with the buds back in his ears and Baekhyun finishing up a powerpoint presentation before he does something more for leisure, surfing the internet for absolutely nothing. He starts reading an article about Urban Legends or something; he isn't really concentrating, not when Zitao is singing along to his song under his breath, loud enough for Baekhyun to hear.
It is in a foreign language, yet distinctively Asian in flavour. Baekhyun stops reading in favour of staring at the back of Zitao's laptop. There's a little decal on it, an oddly familiar cartoon panda with a stick of bamboo in his hand, wielded like a martial arts pole, he's sure he has seen i -
"Do you want to listen?" Zitao's voice asks and Baekhyun notices the bud waving in his direction. He can't help but jump a little.
Baekhyun takes the dangling earbud from Zitao's hand and the wire isn't long enough so he has lean forward to stick it into his ear, stomach digging into the edge of the rounded table.
Zitao clicks on something and the song begins from the start again. It is a nice enough tune, a little generic and boring but the way Zitao mouths to the lyrics is slightly captivating and Baekhyun's eyes are transfixed on his lips. Zitao has nice lips. A little pale sure, but nicely shaped and entirely kissable. Baekhyun forces that thought down.
"What do you think?" Zitao prompts after the song ends, tugging his earbuds back to him. Baekhyun blinks a few times at him, regaining his focus.
"I don't understand it," he blurts out lamely and Zitao chuckles. It is a nice sort of laugh, loud and vibrating underneath his skin and dancing pleasantly across his bones. It's a laugh that seeps through his pores and flits around in him. Baekhyun likes it, a lot.
Baekhyun's heart does a skip, a tiny flip that he ignores.
"Yeah, it's Chinese - I'm not exactly from around here."
"What is it about?"
Zitao's face lights up at the question. "Meteor showers, shooting stars, 流星."
Baekhyun scrunches his face in confusion, repeating the word he doesn't recognize slowly, inflections all wrong.
Zitao's face scrunches up, as if he was trying to hold in a loud burst of laughter. Baekhyun huffs in response.
"It's Chinese," Zitao explains inadequately as he picks up his frappe and takes a slow sip from the rim of the cup rather than from the straw. He cringes. "Too sweet."
There is foam lining across the top of Zitao's lips, frothy white and stark.
"Foam," Baekhyun says as he gestures to his own mouth. Zitao blinks at him and rubs a hasty hand across his mouth but doesn't get everything. "There's still -," Baekhyun lifts a hand awkwardly, wanting to rub it away but his fingers pause inches away from Zitao's face.
"Here," he gestures lamely at the missed spot. His heart is doing ridiculous leaps and bounces in his chest, as if he was just another hormonal teenage boy. Zitao's eyes are darker and more curious, something about his gaze that unnerves Baekhyun.
"Thank you," Zitao says when his face is foam-free. Baekhyun shrugs a response, concentrating too hard on his accelerated heartbeat.
The next hour is tension-filled yet not exactly awkward. Instead, it has a hint of anticipation and possibility and Baekhyun should say something, ask Zitao out on a date, for coffee, for dinner, for anything but he doesn't.
Zitao keeps shooting him glances that he probably doesn't think Baekhyun catches but Baekhyun does and he does not know quite how to react or deal with these looks.
Ten minutes later, Baekhyun hears the resolute click of a laptop closing and looks up from his own.
"I'm leaving," Zitao announces as he slides his laptop into his bag.
Baekhyun doesn't know what he's suppose to say. "Okay," he settles on awkwardly.
"I'll be here again, next Wednesday. Just uhm - see you?" Zitao tries. Baekhyun's heart flutters again.
"Yeah - yeah, okay."
Baekhyun really does like Zitao's smile.
⌑
Except Baekhyun and Zitao meet again on Monday morning, Baekhyun rushing into his office after a late Sunday night with Chanyeol (which had consist of watching The X Factor: US and Chanyeol rolling his eyes every time Demi spoke and Baekhyun chin-facing every time Emblem 3 came on rather than a wild night of booze and hook ups).
"Sorry, I am lat -" his words die in his throat when he sees Zitao - the Zitao - standing in the conference room, dressed sharply in a suit. He swallows harshly.
The voice in the back of his head, one that is awfully romantic and who fantasizes more than imagines, starts throwing out words like destiny and meant to be and Baekhyun has to shove all these stupid notions to a wasteland in his mind.
Zitao has an equally surprised look on his face, mouth in a little pale o. Baekhyun rubs at his eyes. Could this be a dream? Could his subconscious be so enthralled with Zitao that he is dreaming of him? Could this be -
"Mr. Byun," his supervisor says loudly and Baekhyun jolts up immediately. He can almost hear Zitao's chuckle in his ear but when he looks up, his face is blank, only a little crook to his lips giving him away.
"You'll be taking over as Mr. Huang's agent for a while, since Joonmyun is going on his honeymoon. I'm sure you know who Mr. Huang is."
Everyone knows who Mr. Huang is. Mr Huang, or known more fondly by his alias Little Peach, is the author of the generation. He has raked in millions in profit through movie deals, book signings, appearances and even endorsements. Little Peach writes books that touch the hearts of people and whose fiction mirrors reality so close it is slightly scary.
Nothing much is known about Little Peach, except that he is male and single. Baekhyun had always pictured an old, experienced man slogging away at an ancient keyboard when people talked about him. He never expected him to be this young and attractive.
Baekhyun thinks back to Zitao and the cafe and the panda delca pops into his mind, the panda that is Zitao's signature mascot, printed on the back of every book he writes.
Holy shit, Zitao is Little Peach.
"Nice to see you again, Baekhyun, I am in your care," Zitao sticks a hand out towards him. Baekhyun looks at it for longer than he should before he takes it. Zitao is being professional and polite and Baekhyun is so fumbly beside him. The handshake is firm, like the one back at the cafe and Baekhyun smiles, just a little.
⌑
"So, you're a millionaire writer," Baekhyun says as he closes the door to his office and winces at how bad a conversation opener it is. He walks stiffly towards the side of his cram office and pours himself a cup of tea. "Tea?" he asks.
Zitao hums in agreement and Baekhyun pours two cups, sitting on his side of the table and sliding the guest mug across to Zitao. It had been a gift - a gag gift - from Chanyeol, coloured an eye catching hot pink with the words "baby girl" scrawled around it. Baekhyun had been too lazy to buy a proper mug and besides, he never really had had to handle such a big client, a proper mug didn't seem all too necessary.
"This is an interesting mug," Zitao comments as he raises it to his mouth. The air is fraught with awkwardness and Baekhyun sees tension on Zitao's shoulders, in the way that they are scrunched up towards him and the way his back is held stiff. Baekhyun crosses his legs at the ankles.
"It was a gift," Baekhyun replies without much thought, "so uhm - what did Joonmyun assist you in? I know different writers treat their agents differently so what do I have to do?"
"Joonmyun made sure I finished my drafts. He made a timetable and everything. Made sure I ate, slept and got a minimum of six hours of human contact in a week."
"He sounds like your babysitter," Baekhyun blurts out before he can stop himself. Instead of looking pissed off, Zitao laughs instead, and it is an inviting sound, full of mirth and gaiety that makes Baekhyun smile in return.
"I guess."
The conversation ends and gets replaced by an awkward silence, one that has Baekhyun drumming his foot against the floor, right against the one creaky tile in his whole office. Zitao sips continuously on his tea, cup held against his lips without change.
"...Why don't you show me one of those timetables Joonmyun did for you? So I can work something out that will suit you. What else did he do for you that needs immediate attention?" Baekhyun finally settles on. Zitao sets his mug on the table.
"I need groceries, the milk in the fridge is going to expire soon."
Baekhyun blinks at him expectedly, expecting Zitao to tell him that it was just a joke, something said to break the ice, but Zitao looks back at him eagerly and he knows it is no joke.
⌑
So Baekhyun finds himself at a supermarket aisle, one hand gripping the handlebars of the trolley and the other holding a shopping list that he has to squint at. Zitao's handwriting is clunky and scrawly at the same time and Baekhyun isn't quite sure if he is reading it right or not.
He has never had to do anything like this for his other clients, his own preferring to work in legitimate solitude and only contacting him sporadically via text or email. Most of Baekhyun's job had just been to send reminders of deadlines and pitching their drafts to possibly interested publishers. Zitao is probably different though, he concludes, since he is an almost guaranteed seller and Joonmyun had most likely never had to run around in the rain with his manuscript clutched tightly to his body as he made his way from one publisher house to the other.
Baekhyun grabs a box of cereal from the shelf as he ponders over Zitao. He would never had linked Zitao to Little Peach, to someone whose words he admittedly idolizes. Partially it is the warped image he had of the author in his head and partially because it is a little intimidating to know that someone he has sort of interacted with is someone so well-known and loved by so many; it makes Zitao feel faraway, unattainable, like a full moon that Baekhyun will never grasp in his hands.
He shakes that notion off because it is stupid to think of it this way - Zitao and he are barely friends and all they have right now is a working relationship. Baekhyun kind of wishes that Zitao and him had remained just cafe buddies and that Zitao would have revealed to him his identity after they became real friends, so Baekhyun could pick at his brain without feeling like it was crossing a line. It is a little awkward to ask someone who you are working for about their thought processes and stuff, especially when the constraints of their relationship acted as a barrier.
The shopping list tells him he has to grab potato chips (and only the cheese flavoured ones) so he pushes the trolley to the next aisle.
⌑
When he gets to Zitao's loft an hour later (a loft that is literally five minutes away from the cafe), his hands are full of groceries so he has to kick the toe of shoe against the door.
There is no response.
Baekhyun gets on his toes and angles his arm so his elbow jams against the doorbell, the harsh plastic bags digging into the skin of his forearm. He hears rustling from the other side, almost like the sound of a pigeon getting out of its nest and soon the door opens up to reveal Zitao, hair disheveled and dressed in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants.
"Uhm - groceries," Baekhyun manages to articulate, jiggling the bags full of food to demonstrate his point. Zitao grunts in approval and makes space for Baekhyun to walk into his loft. Baekhyun looks at him quizzically. "I was just going to leave these and go."
"Joonmyun sometimes hung out with me here, checks my real time process and stuff. Why don't you come in?" Zitao insists. Baekhyun blinks at him once and does exactly so.
Zitao's loft is oddly impersonal for someone who seems so connected to the world of human emotions, bare white walls and display shelves devoid of ornaments that would hint at ownership and homeliness. The most lived in part of the place seemed to be the ridiculous worn out king size bed at the edge, illuminated by the lamp that stood on the bedside drawer next to it.
Baekhyun drops the bags of groceries on to the first table he can find and stands near it awkwardly as Zitao shuffles back to the bed and stacks the blankets, a failed attempt to straightening up the place. His eyes continue to roam the place, taking in the expensive furniture (marbled tabletops and polished cupboards) and the lack of anything else.
"Want to help me put all of these away? You bought a lot, more than Joonmyun ever did," Zitao asks from the table, jolting Baekhyun out of his trance. Baekhyun jumps a little internally and nods, in a daze.
They pack the groceries in mutual silence, Baekhyun occasionally piping up to ask Zitao where to put something, the higher cupboard or the lower one. They end up standing next to each other, reaching for adjoining cupboards and elbows bumping sporadically as Zitao stacks the canned food and Baekhyun stuffs the other full of potato chips. The atmosphere is fraught with something Baekhyun doesn't want to identify, and Zitao's body is just bordering on too distracting.
Baekhyun spends the rest of the day watching silently as Zitao alternates between typing and watching videos on YouTube. They talk too, conversations that are a little too polite for Baekhyun's liking. Zitao tells him very vaguely about his thought process (I don't think linearly, after all, the world is more of a ball of yarn than anything else) and his preference for coffee without sugar. Baekhyun had frowned at that and asked him to drink drain water instead; Zitao had snorted at his lack of class.
They come up with a schedule too; Zitao will email Baekhyun every day at ten to update on his status and Baekhyun would fulfill everything Zitao needed. Joonmyun had already drawn up timetables and flowcharts for the next month so everything there was in place. Baekhyun had left after eating a dinner of instant noodles in front of the television, watching Glee on reruns as Zitao pointed out every continuity error.
It feels domestic in an odd sense, like there's a current of disassociation and lack of closeness between them even though everything else seems in place.
⌑
They meet again on Wednesday, at the same cafe again at the same table. Baekhyun can't say that he wasn't hoping that Zitao would be there but it is still a pleasant surprise to see Zitao when he walks in, hunched over a laptop, hands furiously flying over the keyboard (even though Baekhyun knows now that most of the time Zitao is chatting online with strangers on Life Issues rather than typing his story).
Zitao looks up just as he reaches the edge of the table and smiles up at him. "You're here."
"Y-yeah."
Silence overtakes them as Baekhyun pulls out the chair to sit down. He takes his laptop out of its case and boots it up. Zitao continues to look at him while his fingers move across the keyboard of his laptop.
"Why do you come here?" Zitao asks suddenly and Baekhyun jolts up from surprise, having been transfixed at the circles winding around themselves on his screen as his laptop starts.
"I like coffee," Baekhyun replies simply. Zitao doesn't respond and Baekhyun winces at how boring his answer must have been. "And Chanyeol - that's my flatmate - has Wednesday afternoons off and he can be a menace to be around sometimes."
Zitao frowns at that. "Do you not get along with your flatmate?"
Baekhyun shakes his head vehemently. "He's my closest friend - he's just really grouchy mid-week, has been since college."
They work in silence as per usual, the sound of fingers against keyboard the only thing that meets their ears.
"You know," Zitao says after a while, catching Baekhyun when he is deep in concentration on his work. Baekhyun looks up. "We keep meeting here by coincidence. Maybe we should meet up on purpose."
Baekhyun's mouth runs dry. "Like, on a date?" he blurts out without thinking. He feels himself start to flush after the words leave his mouth.
Zitao laughs, jerkily and surprised. "Yeah I guess - or no like a non-date - a... a purposeful meeting, not for work but just for... meeting."
Baekhyun inhales. "I would like to go on a... purposeful meeting with you."
Zitao's smile is something that he will start to look forward to, because it fills his heart up.
⌑
Their purposeful meeting ends up to be sort of their first date, fairly normal and almost cliche. They meet in the afternoon and watch a movie, Zitao stealing popcorn out of Baekhyun's bag and sipping on Baekhyun's drink by accident more than once. Baekhyun holds his popcorn closer to Zitao's side and Zitao nudges his shoulder as thanks.
They have dinner after, sitting in a warm restaurant sipping on soup as they wait for their main course to come. The conversation is smooth and casual, yet holds hint of trying to understand each other more. There's also a tentativeness, a careful exploration of the other seen through the pauses as they tried to recreate sentences and make questions seem as impersonal as possible without sounding cold. Baekhyun laughs at a joke Zitao make and Zitao kicks him from the under the table, toe of his shoe light against Baekhyun's shin. Baekhyun just laughs harder.
Baekhyun doesn't kiss Zitao at the end of the date and Zitao doesn't try to do so either. They part at the restaurant with a hug and see you laters.
(If he was to speak the truth, Baekhyun had been a little disappointed.)
⌑
"I'm going to kiss you if you don't stop talking," Baekhyun warns, more a joke than anything. Zitao pouts childishly and jabbers on about how ridiculous this scene he was writing was and how he was going to lose all his sales and would have to find a new job soon.
Zitao has these moments of blinding anxiety, where doubts chew into his confidence of his own talents and fear seeps into his words. It makes Baekhyun want to grab his shoulder and shake him hard, makes him want to dig out his dog-eared copy of Zitao's first book and show him how much of an impact he is in people's lives.
Baekhyun isn't sure where this random surge of confidence is from but he grabs the lapels of Zitao's jacket so the latter is facing him. Zitao stops speaking.
"I'm going to kiss you now," he says, voice steady but heart wobbly.
"Okay," Zitao replies, voice one that is off balance.
So Baekhyun leans in and press his lips against the softness of Zitao's ones. It is just a chaste meeting of lips and Baekhyun has kissed a lot of people, he's a grown man after all, but he doesn't remember anyone that has made his toes curl like Zitao does, especially when he worries against Baekhyun's bottom lip with his teeth.
He could get used to kissing Huang Zitao.
⌑
Baekhyun feels at ease with Zitao, more so than he has ever felt with anyone else. There's a comfort that sinks into his skin and soothes his nerves when he is tired, and Zitao's smile makes him smile in response, wide and grinning.
There are times where he wants to tell Zitao about his vision but he remembers the promise to himself from years back and bites his tongue. He doesn't want disbelief to colour the look in Zitao's eyes, doesn't want the possible reaction of unease and even maybe disgust. He doesn't want Zitao to look at him and wonder what he sees when Baekhyun looks at him.
He's taking a risk with this he knows, because Zitao has come to mean a lot in such a short period of time and if Baekhyun ever saw Zitao's light dim he isn't sure how he would even react. Call him selfish, but he would rather be with someone's death he could handle an inch more rationally than be with someone who means something to him.
But Zitao is like magnet and Baekhyun is just a piece of metal. He is attracted beyond belief and he can't seem to pull himself away from the hands on his arms and smiles that belong to him. He likes having Zitao around, likes being around Zitao.
"What are we?" Zitao asks him one day, out of the blue. They are crowded onto Zitao's pathetic excuse for a couch, bed abandoned because Zitao can't be bothered to change the grape juice stained bedsheet yet. Baekhyun looks at him, puzzled.
Zitao worries at the edge of the cushion with his fingers. "We date and everything but... what are we?"
"B-boyfriends?" Baekhyun asks and Zitao's response is a snort, almost instantaneous. Baekhyun shoves him against the shoulder in embarrassment.
"That sounds oddly juvenile," Zitao finally replies. Baekhyun huffs.
"You said we were dating and everything," Baekhyun tries to reason. Zitao sobers up and moves even closer on the already small piece of furniture. Baekhyun's heart accelerates (he really hates when it does that).
"Do you want to be my boyfriend, Baekhyun? Boyfriend Baekhyun has a nice ring to it."
Baekhyun can't help the little jerky laughter that leaves him.
"Aren't I already your boyfriend, Boyfriend Zitao."'
⌑
Baekhyun is in love with Zitao.
Baekhyun realizes he is in love with Zitao on a sweltering Wednesday, the sun sitting high in the sky and beating down mercilessly on the earth.
Baekhyun is in love with the way Zitao laughs, the way it sinks into his skin.
Baekhyun is in love with the way Zitao thinks, is amazed at his grasp of the human emotion and mind.
Baekhyun is in love with the way Zitao drinks coffee (all milk no sugar), the way he only wears black and sometimes blue and white, the way his lips curve into a light pout when he is asking for something and the way his fingers brush against Baekhyun's lower back when they kiss.
He never wants to see Zitao smile that one crooked smile at anyone but him, he wants to mark along the length of Zitao's spine, tiny little marks that will prove that Zitao is his alone. Baekhyun wants to wake up next to Zitao every morning, brush the floppy fringe out of his face and kiss his eyelids to wake him up.
Baekhyun is in love with the way Zitao's nose scrunches up when he has to do the dishes, and the way he steals the popcorn when they watch a movie and finishes his drink before Baekhyun can even take a sip.
Baekhyun is in love with Zitao.
The revelation sends his head reeling and guts churning.
⌑
Baekhyun has tried to tell Chanyeol about his vision once, on a night with too much alcohol and too much schoolwork to be bothered with. Chanyeol is laughing over something on the television and Baekhyun nurses his drink quietly, head throbbing. He had seen something today that he didn't want to, a person with dimmed light buying a coil of rope at the convenience store.
"I have to tell you something," he blurts out, voice almost inaudible over the din from the television. He regrets his words as soon as they leave his mouth and he prays that Chanyeol didn't heard him.
Chanyeol turns back to look at him, eyebrow twitching in question. Baekhyun downs whatever is left in his cup, the weak burn not helping in his anxiety.
"What's up, Baekhyun?" Chanyeol probes.
"I have never told anyone this, but I have this thing where I can see a light in everyone and I know when somebody is going to die."
Chanyeol blinks at him blankly and Baekhyun thinks maybe just maybe Chanyeol believes in him. That is, until Chanyeol bursts out in laughter, reaching forward to thump him against his chest.
"You suck at pranking and making jokes. I'm not that drunk yet, Byun Baekhyun," his voice is riddled with amusement and disbelief, and Baekhyun forces a laugh back to him.
"I thought you would be intoxicated enough to believe me," he chokes back a reply.
They never bring it up again, because Chanyeol probably doesn't remember and Baekhyun realizes how ridiculous this whole thing sounds when he tries to put it into words.
That is, until The Incident.
It had just been a normal day, the weather cool without being chilly and the humidity at a good level, it was a perfect day even. Chanyeol and him had been walking to the convenience store, chatting animatedly about a television show before a piercing scream had disrupted the otherwise peaceful atmosphere.
It was followed very closely by a loud crash.
Chanyeol had went to look at the girl, to see if there was anything he could do before the ambulance came. Baekhyun had glanced very briefly at the scene of the accident, see the dimmed light of the casualty, and without much thought, told Chanyeol that the woman was going to die and it wasn't worth it to stay.
There must have been something in Baekhyun's eyes that day - lack of care, disregard - because Chanyeol just nodded softly and allowed Baekhyun to bring him to the convenience store, the former not even sparing a glance back.
That night in their shared apartment, Chanyeol had sat Baekhyun down and made him promise not to ever tell him when his light was dimmed or whatever, that if Chanyeol's light was dim, Baekhyun was going to have to pretend like everything was alright and treat Chanyeol as per normal. Baekhyun had agreed.
That night, Baekhyun swore to himself to never tell anyone ever about his vision.
⌑
Death is an inevitability. It is not a specific event or a specific occurrence that will bring someone away from the realm of the living; it is a specific time, a specific.
There's no stopping death when it comes. It is as if everyone in the world had an expiry date and death was merely what happened when your time was up.
⌑
The first time Baekhyun tells Zitao that he loved him is also on a Wednesday. The cafe has become something of a routine for them, a concrete and maybe even permanent fixation in their relationship. Sometimes they came together, sometimes they came one by one, it didn't matter. Baekhyun likes it, likes the routine and familiarity and the feeling of secrecy when he slips into the chair and smiles at Zitao over the edge of his laptop screen.
"Hello," Zitao greets when he arrives, closing the screen of his laptop. Baekhyun smiles back, feeling oddly giddy.
"Hello," he says back. Zitao raises an eyebrow at the amusement in his voice.
"You sound overwhelmingly happy today."
"That's because I love you," Baekhyun says, and then freezes. Zitao's eyes go big (and they look really comical that way, Baekhyun decides) before they go undeniably soft, melting into a smile.
"I love you too," he replies, and Baekhyun's heart picks up speed, almost like the first time he had met Zitao at this very same spot and this moment feels oddly full circle, like something has come to a resolution, a possibility that has allowed itself to be filled up so much that it is now plain reality.
The rest of the day passes by in almost mundane, normal matter, except for the fact that Zitao's foot remains a solid weight against his own.
⌑
The first time they have sex is spontaneous and quick, Zitao murmuring hurry hurry hurry as Baekhyun unbuttons his shirt, thin cotton suddenly as constricting as steel. Zitao laughs when Baekhyun's fingers fumble on the buttons and their ridiculously small corresponding holes, teasing Baekhyun's fingers for being too long to function. He then reaches forward to pull Baekhyun's hands away and unbuttons the shirt himself, veins on his arms visible against the soft glow of the moonlight. Baekhyun's breath quickens without his consent even as he tries to calm it down, inhaling and exhaling shakily with resolve.
The shirt drops onto the floor soon and Zitao doesn't waste a second, crowding Baekhyun until the bend of his knees are pressed against the edge of the bed and he falls ungracefully onto the bed. He doesn't get much time to recover because Zitao's face is suddenly above his own, so close and so real but yet almost ethereal, framed by the soft light.
"You're so gorgeous," Zitao breathes against his skin, breath leaving moisture against Baekhyun's cheek. Baekhyun exhales noisily.
"Kiss me," he says instead and Zitao does, Zitao leans down and captures Baekhyun's lips in his own. The kiss is slow for a moment before it catches speed, becomes almost desperate, teeth marring the soft skin of lips and fingers tangled into hair that tug and pull as they please. Zitao ruts against him and Baekhyun can't help the gasp that leaves his lips or the way he arches closer for more contact, for more friction.
It doesn't take long for Zitao to be rustling through his bedside drawer for condoms and lube, Baekhyun's body on fire with nerves and arousal as he waits. He plucks the packet from Zitao's hand and tears it open shakily, Zitao laughing at the way his fingers keep slipping.
The first push in burns uncomfortably even though Zitao had prepped him with his fingers, and Baekhyun holds his breath and squirms. Zitao murmurs words of comfort into his ear as he pushes in slowly, achingly slow. He pauses when he's fully seated and Baekhyun feels so full, so full of Zitao.
Zitao makes Baekhyun shower first after, urging him eagerly as he flops against the bed. Baekhyun stands under the steaming hot water and scrubs his skin. There are the start of bruises beneath his collar bones and he presses fingers into them, sighing with something that feels like contentment.
⌑
Their first anniversary is nothing flashy or showy. They don't throw a party or invite guests, don't announce it on any social networking sites or make friends buy them gifts. They spend it at Zitao's loft, attempting to cook something nice for themselves for dinner, Zitao frowning openly at the cookbook as Baekhyun gingerly dices the garlic.
They end up calling for takeout anyway, since Zitao misreads the oven settings and the chicken is burnt to inedible. They order too much for two but it allows for a decent variety and Baekhyun enjoys it when Zitao feeds him pieces of carrots from his own plate.
"I have a gift for you," Zitao says cautiously when they finish and are lying on Zitao's bed, Zitao graciously on the side with the loose spring.
"I thought we promised no gifts," Baekhyun chides playfully, rolling over onto his side to look at Zitao. Zitao turns his head to look at him.
"I know...this just seems like the right time though," Zitao replies almost sheepishly but there's an undercurrent of nervousness in his voice. It piques Baekhyun's curiosity.
"Okay," he relents and Zitao practically bounces off the bed, walking large strides across the loft to get to a drawer on the other end. Baekhyun admires the view of Zitao's ass as he rummages through a low drawer.
"Here," Zitao says, passing Baekhyun a small box. It looks like it might contain jewelry but it is too big for it to be a ring. The box has a tacky ribbon on it and it is an obnoxious shade of bright pink. "I couldn't find any other box, the shop had a huge order from somewhere and this was the only box left," Zitao explains hurriedly, as if he had heard Baekhyun's thoughts.
Baekhyun bites his bottom lip and opens the box.
It is a key, dull metal glinting at him.
"Oh," he breathes, not sure how to react. He thinks he knows the implication of this, of Zitao giving him a key, giving him a place in his loft and his life. It feels like commitment and a promise of even more tied into a small box and a piece of metal. He looks at the key and can't really process the fact that this is real, that they are real.
"I hope this key leads me to a new car," he jokes shakily, voice more unstable than he thought it would be, "and I hope it is an expensive car, you know I want a -"
"Will you move in with me, Byun Baekhyun? I'm not asking for forever, I know how you feel about that, but I am asking for now."
Baekhyun looks at Zitao and the shine in his eyes, looks at the way his mouth is tilted in eagerness and the way his light burns so blue. Baekhyun looks at Zitao and sees someone he loves and someone he could live with.
Baekhyun says yes.
⌑
Sometimes it is difficult not to believe that they were meant to be, that their meeting and joining had not been written in the stars, crafted even before they had been moulded into flesh and bones.
There's just something unreal about the way their hands fit when Zitao links their fingers together, how Baekhyun's fingers fill up the spaces in between Zitao's fingers and the way his palm sits snugly against his own that speaks of something that cannot be explained merely by logic and evolution.
It is the way that Zitao smiles at him, all those different quirks of his mouth and twitches in his face that convince Baekhyun that meeting Zitao was possibly at least inevitable.
⌑
Life with Zitao sits well with Baekhyun. He doesn't find himself getting sick of Zitao and his smiles, of his general laziness and his insistent whines. Instead, he finds them more and more endearing as the days pass and his heart still trembles that slight bit in Zitao's presence.
Baekhyun's life might not have fallen in the routine he had decided on when he was younger (and Baekhyun doesn't like it when things don't go as plan), but this was one event that Baekhyun didn't mind losing control over.
He still doesn't believe in forever and eternity, but he hopes to have Zitao for "as long as he can".
⌑
Baekhyun thinks the way it happens is too underwhelming, too mundane, too normal, especially when he feels as if someone had taken a scissors and slice through the threads of his life.
It happens without any warning, no prompt or nagging at the back of his head. One moment Zitao's flame was burning bright and blue and he looks away for a split second and, and -
It's dim. Zitao's flame is dim, diminished, light, weak, dim.
Baekhyun's fucking soul hitches in his throat and he can't breathe. Zitao is still lounging against the bed and smiling lazily at him, patting the side of bed that is empty. Zitao is going to die - is gesturing for him to come to him.
Baekhyun can't - he -
Chanyeol's words echo in his ears loudly but too muffled to string together and all he remembers is inevitable...not your fault...helpless and everything seems sluggish.
Zitao is frowning now; he can see the way the smile slides off his face as if it is in slow-motion and technicolour, sees Zitao crawling the length of the bed to close up the distance and ask what's wrong.
Wrong, everything was wrong. There is panic and fear and liquid prickling the corner of his eyes and Baekhyun has to bite on his lip hard to stop himself from crying.
"Nothing," he manages to start and his voice is shaky with fear, "I just, I - I just remembered that movie we watched last night, the sad one."
Zitao raises an eyebrow and chuckles at that answer and picks up one of Baekhyun's hand in his own, cradling it to his chest. "You're so silly. You can tell me anything, you know that right?"
The way Zitao is looking at him makes his heart swell and clench at the same time. This heartache feels so physical and real, as if he could actually die from the pain, the knowledge that Zitao was going to die.
"I am, aren't I? Silly, that is," he replies, voice shaking with the exertion of trying to sound calm. Zitao laughs again and tugs him hard enough so he ends up sprawled on the bed, chin hitting the mattress almost painfully. He makes an indignant sound of protest but Zitao silences him with his mouth.
Baekhyun allows himself to pretend, just for a little while longer.
⌑
Baekhyun has had practice pretending, has had to look at his coworker's dimmed light even as he wished her a happy engagement, has had to learn to stop himself from telling someone with a dimmed light to not cross the busy road.
But this - this - is the performance of his fucking life. It is calculated laughter and blocking things out so thoroughly that he allows himself to relax around Zitao. It is stopping himself from booking them a flight to the most deserted place in the world so that nothing could steal away the last bit of time he has with Zitao. It is about listening to Zitao talk about the future - a future he will not be a part of - with so much excitement and hope clinched on to every word and plan.
"My next book is going to be about us. Not a biography, of course, but the essence of our story," Zitao murmurs against his flushed neck as they settle for the night.
Something chokes itself in Baekhyun's throat. "I - I can't wait for it," he manages to stutter out and he feels more than sees Zitao smile next to him, lips pressed against his skin.
"I can't wait for you to read it."
Baekhyun doesn't reply, not when there is nothing left in him but extreme sadness and tears. He snuggles closer to Zitao and takes a deep breath instead.
⌑
Zitao brings him out two nights later, driving the car and refusing to divulge where he is bringing them to. The sky is grey with the possibility of rain and Baekhyun sees Zitao looks up at it and frown at it sporadically, before he turns and graces Baekhyun with a little smile.
He drives them up to a small hill, one with green grass and a clear view of the sky. It starts to rain, to pour just when Zitao stops the car and Zitao groans in frustration.
"I brought you up here for a picnic, alas," he says as he reaches back to grab something from the backseat of the car. It is an honest to god picnic basket, weaved straw and a checkered cloth that covers the top of it. Baekhyun can't help but let out a small laugh when Zitao tugs the cloth away, revealing neatly packed sandwiches and tupperwares in multi-colours. "I made your favourite potato salad; it is a little chunky though. I am going to call it success though, since I didn't burn down the kitchen."
Baekhyun can't help the snort that leaves him.
Zitao ignores his complete lack of confidence and lays out the food on any available surface that he can find, which leaves a lot of the tupperware balancing precariously on small surfaces, considering the fact that they are in a car. It is still raining and Baekhyun chases raindrops on the window with his finger as Zitao lays out the food.
"I brought you up here because there's supposedly a meteor shower today, not that we can see anything with this rain," Zitao sighs, passing a cup filled with lukewarm orange juice to Baekhyun.
"Maybe it will stop before it starts," Baekhyun comments as he sips on the juice.
"I thought it would be romantic you know - because of how we sort of talked because I forced you to listen to that one song."
Baekhyun feels heat crawling up to his face. He didn't think Zitao would remember that even though he does, remembers their first real interaction in all of its vivid awkwardness.
"I didn't think you would remember."
Zitao places his cup down on some anti-slip cloth and leans closer to Baekhyun, face just mere inches.
"If I believed in the notion of love at first sight, Baekhyun, that would be the moment I remember as the moment I fell in love with you."
⌑
It doesn't stop raining all night long and to make it worse, gray clouds block the vision of the sky from them. Zitao huffs in frustration as he keeps the used utensils back into the picnic basket and tosses a jacket towards Baekhyun's general direction. Baekhyun taps him against the nose playfully.
They do see the traces of light from behind the clouds though, and Zitao panics almost comically and makes Baekhyun make a wish. Baekhyun doesn't, because he does not believe in something as ridiculous in this, but the image of Zitao with his head bowed and his hands clasped in front of him makes something tighten uncomfortably in his chest. Baekhyun bows his own head and squeezes his eyes shut to stop the feeling from choking him.
"Do you want to know what wish I made?" Zitao asks after a moment of silence. Baekhyun looks up at him.
"Wishes don't come true when you tell them to others," he teases, voice more stable than he thought would be possible.
Zitao waves his hand dismissively. "When have you been one to believe in superstition anyway?"
Baekhyun offers another small laugh even as Zitao's light winks at him dimly. "Tell me then."
Zitao swallows audibly and Baekhyun's heart accelerates without warning when Zitao picks up his hands in his own. He grips them tightly, fingers crowding Baekhyun's.
"I wished that when I asked you a question, that you would say yes."
Baekhyun huffs in nervousness. "What question?"
Zitao lifts their joint hands and whispers against Baekhyun's knuckles, almost inaudible. "Will you promise me eternity if I promise it back to you?"
Baekhyun can't stop the gasp that leaves his lips or the way bile climbs up his throat. Zitao's light seems to mock him, twinkling even more dimly than it had a minute ago, the blue almost neon with the lack of all that yellow and orange.
Wishes really don't come true when you say them out loud.
"I know - I know you don't believe in forever but you - I - it feels right," Zitao is tripping over his words and his eyes are so earnest.
Baekhyun doesn't believe in forever and for eternity, doesn't quite believe in written in the fabric of time or met to be, but if Zitao's eternity is only for another day or two, he's going to say -
"Yes."
The way Zitao's eyes burn brighter than his light and the grin that engulfs his face is more than enough for Baekhyun to not regret his answer.
⌑
Baekhyun wakes up to gentle sunlight against his face, the rain from the previous night making the air just a touch colder with the windows of the car rolled down. He stretches languidly as he blindly reaches for his ringing phone, the music obnoxiously loud and out of place in such serene weather. His heart is his throat for no reason, a lump that screams something is wrong, and even though Baekhyun logically knows what could have went wrong, he chooses to ignore it. He fumbles to slide his finger against the screen to answer the call and puts it on loudspeaker before mumbling a sleepy hello.
"Where are you, Baekhyun?" It is Joonmyun's voice on the other end and it is oddly strained, poorly controlled. "Baekhyun, Zitao, Zitao, he - " Joonmyun's voice is choked up and it sounds like he is crying. Baekhyun vaguely registers voices in the backdrop of where Joonmyun is and it sounds like a hospital. A hospital.
He looks around the interior of the car and realize that Zitao isn't in it.
It can't be - It just fucking can't.
"Where's Zitao?" he manages to ask and his voice is already hinging on shaky. He is sitting up now, trembling gently everywhere even as he closes his eyes and hopes this is all a dream. Maybe Zitao got lost, maybe Zitao tripped because of the rain and broke his foot. Maybe Zitao -
"Zitao passed away, Baekhyun."
No.
It doesn't hurt less even though Baekhyun knew this was going to happen, had known that Zitao's death was inevitable, had even known for a few days. In fact, it hurts more. It hurts more because he had been unable to do anything, had been unable to protect Zitao. Having had the knowledge of Zitao's imminent passing made it feel like Baekhyun was obliged to do something; as if the knowledge itself came with a way to change the fact. He knows it isn't logical, has trained himself to stop feeling a pinch in his heart for anyone who was going to die but Zitao wasn't just anyone, Zitao was Zitao and it just wasn't - shouldn't had been his time yet.
Everyone dies but Baekhyun - fuck - Baekhyun should have tried to do something, locked him up in a room or begged on the wishing star to allow him to give his own light to Zitao but he had been too passive for too long.
And now Zitao is dead.
The tears don't surprise him. The shaking and sobbing and wheezing for air does.
⌑
It had been an accident, no one's fault. It had been foggy from the rain and the floor was still slippery. Zitao had probably been walking to the closest convenience store to get them breakfast and had missed the car coming from the sharp bend and the car hadn't been able to brake in time, ground still wet.
He had died on impact they say, painless.
Baekhyun doesn't think it is much consolation when the end effect is still the same.
⌑
The funeral is not something Baekhyun remembers with much details but yet it was going to remain as one of his most vivid memories. He remembers the endless black; clothing, the furniture, the atmosphere and he remembers the throngs of people that had come to give thanks to a writer that had changed their lives. He remembers being numb, so incredibly numb that he can't even cry, just sits there stonefaced as Chanyeol rubs soothing circles on to his back, mumbling you'll be okay over and over again.
(Chanyeol can be such an idiot sometimes. He's fine but Zitao will never be.)
The only time Baekhyun had shed a tear throughout the whole event was when that song - their song - had started to play across the speakers. It had started off with a single tear down his cheeks and escalated into full-fledged sobbing, his face buried into the crook of Chanyeol's neck and Joonmyun patting his back even as he himself bites down on his lips to hold back tears.
Funerals are supposed to be a final goodbye but Baekhyun can't bring himself to say that even to the cold, wooden casket that held Zitao's mangled, dead, body.
⌑
He fumbles on their - his bedside table for the bottle of sleeping pills. Sleep doesn't come easy now, not when every time he closes his eyes all he sees is Zitao and his smile, or feel phantom fingers lingering against the skin near his belly button, just like Zitao used to do every night as he spooned him from behind.
It's not even that sleep is good because dreams bring him into a world where Zitao is still alive and real and whole in his arms and not a person shattered by cuts and blood. Baekhyun would rather pretend everything is still in place and right rather than face the reality that Zitao will never smile at him again.
He yanks open the drawer, thinking that the pills will be there but they aren't. Instead, there is a bright pink post-it stuck to the bottom of it and a small blue box that accompanies it. His breath quickens.
Baekhyun picks up the box with shaky hands, and has to choke back a scream when the sight of two rings greets him, a matching pair. The chinese characters 流星 are carved into the inner curve of both. He picks one out and slides it on his finger and can't stop the tears at how nicely it fits his finger and how nice the other would look on Zitao's.
⌑
Dear Baekhyun,
I hope that when you have found these, it is after you have said yes.
I didn't want to bring these to the meteor shower because I was afraid that it might be too much, that a ring might scare you away. I know they aren't much, just plain silver, but they represent my promise to you - eternity and nothing less. I can't wait to see your face when you find this, I hope it is my favourite smile.
Always yours,
Huang Zitao
- if you have finished this i would like to offer you cookies (i am aware this fic veers dangerously into the needless angst category, but it was something i had to get out so i am sorry)
- special thanks to emo_what97 whom without this fic would not have been a reality. you didn't hold my hand through this, you practically piggybacked me as i curse and whine and every scene. you are a godsend.
-seulpeo for beta-ing!! thank you for being so brutally honest i need it. i love you.
- title is taken from ellie goulding's lights
- soundtrack while typing: curious (emblem 3) | sunset blvd (emblem 3) | heart attack (one direction) | give your heart a break (glee cast)