#91 | Svengali (2/2) | ChanBaek
“So I know you told Kyungsoo that you’re just friends,” says Jongin between deep breaths, “But I think that’s a crock of bullshit. I think you want to bang him, and then cuddle his tiny body.”
Chanyeol rolls his eyes, and then has to wipe the sweat out of them. He has enough self-awareness not to attempt a protest of denial, and enough self-respect not to hide his growing feelings behind a barefaced lie. “I like to think it’s a little bit more than that,” he remarks dryly, thinking back to all the mushy emotions he had felt at the ice cream parlor. It makes him a little embarrassed now, and his cheeks are warm as a result, but he figures he can always blame that on overexertion. “I’m not that shallow.”
They are together in the gym, both slaving away on treadmills. While Jongin is running to maintain his low body-fat percentage for a comeback, Chanyeol is attempting to outrun his feelings and his sexual frustration. Though he isn’t as close to Jongin as he is to Kyungsoo, Chanyeol for some reason feels a little more comfortable divulging his burgeoning feelings to his gym buddy than his best friend.
“I’ve seen him around,” Jongin says slyly. “I wouldn’t blame you if you were that shallow. That’s one fine piece of ass.” Chanyeol sighs, suddenly remembering exactly why that is- the younger man can always be trusted to focus on the shallowest things, and to gloss over more problematic issues.
Though he is reluctant to broach the topic any more than strictly necessary, he is even more loath to leave anyone with a greasy misinterpretation of his intentions. “It’s not just about his ass,” Chanyeol grumbles, “or any other body part. There are plenty of people with nice parts. His personality is intriguing, and he gets my creative juices flowing.”
“And other juices, I bet.” The crude words are accompanied with a leer.
Chanyeol internally vows to never speak with Jongin about these things again. “You,” he groans, “are a waste of air.” It’s a harsh insult, but he doesn’t really mean it, and friendship is meant to weather such things. Jongin seems to be taking the words in stride, grinning cheekily.
For a while, they jog in a companionable silence. Though Jongin is a little obnoxious, Chanyeol looks upon this trait fondly- although he is about as mature as a kid in primary school, he can always be counted on to lift spirits.
Deciding to flip the tables on the younger man, Chanyeol waits until Jongin is taking a drink of water before inquiring, “How is it going with Kyungsoo?”
The resulting spit take is rather by the book, but Chanyeol tries his utmost to savor it in spite of that.
-
Article: Teasers released for Baekhyun debut.
1. [+340, -10] He looks jjang ㅠㅠ there are a lot of flower boys on the market, but somehow he stands out.
2. [+209, -25] He’s the one working with Park Chanyeol, right?
3. [+125, -147] It’s been a long time since a decent soloist was released.
4. [+90, -132] what is this concept?? Is D.O. trying to put out a soloist with a choding concept??
-
“The day we broke up,” Baekhyun says haltingly, “We fought about the future. About our plans.”
Chanyeol looks up in surprise, and a flurry of various emotions flit through him, some simultaneously. Though a short while ago Baekhyun had declined to share about his relationship, he is now doing so without any prompting. It speaks volumes about the accelerated rate at which their friendship is developing that such milestones are being reached so quickly.
It’s difficult to make sense of Baekhyun’s statement though. “Wait,” Chanyeol says, confused. “Did you guys disagree or…”
“She thought I wasn’t being realistic,” comes the explanation. “She told me it was a pipe dream, that it wouldn’t happen.” A harsh laugh. “It wasn’t what I wanted to hear. We were having some financial problems,” Baekhyun acknowledges. “I guess she wanted me to think more practically. But she never gave me the choice. She didn’t even give me an ultimatum. After one of our fights, she just packed everything up and left.”
There is a silence, as Chanyeol does his best to process this information. That’s what most relationships boil down to, he thinks. A choice. “Would you have picked her?” He wonders aloud.
Dark eyes find his, and hold them with an intense stare. “I don’t know,” Baekhyun confesses, averting his gaze, and it’s suddenly very clear why he was so reluctant to share before- the guilt still has him in a choking stranglehold.
The answer is not what Chanyeol wanted to hear- it strikes a nerve in him, opens a wound that never really closed from back when Yifan left him. It isn’t his style to lash out, so he doesn’t. He keeps himself focused on his work, trying not to let his emotions overtake him, doing his best to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest. It’s none of his business anyway.
Baekhyun takes the silence as a tacit invitation to continue. “I still wish she would have given me the chance to decide,” he says. There isn’t anger behind his words, but the bitterness is heavy and palpable.
He’s talking about his ex-girlfriend, but Chanyeol can’t help feeling maligned. It’s someone else’s story, but the details fit so perfectly with his own that an indignant anger surges within him. Perhaps, like him, the other party was simply misunderstood. It’s easy to imagine himself in those shoes, because he’s walked that path before.
“Maybe she didn’t want to force that decision on you,” he retorts before he can stop himself. “Think about it. If she had given you an ultimatum, and you chose her, do you think you could keep yourself from resenting her for it?” Chanyeol wants to say more, but although he stops himself, they can both hear the phantom words.
Looking very taken aback at the unexpectedly emphatic response, Baekhyun seems to consider his words. “I never thought of it like that,” he mumbles, sounding lost and stumped.
Knowing that he had overreacted, Chanyeol sighs and rubs his temples. “Or maybe she was just an idiot,” he allows reluctantly, because that is in fact a possibility. “I don’t know the details like you do, so take what I say with a grain of salt.”
“Yeah, okay,” Baekhyun says, but there is a misty look in his eyes, and Chanyeol doesn’t know what it means.
They work late that day, productivity heightened by their unwillingness to pursue conversation of substance, for fear of embroiling themselves in another fight. He flies through the production for several tracks, and though they sound a bit rough, he can always polish them later. Baekhyun’s vocals are not as smooth as usual either- the raw huskiness of emotion, Chanyeol thinks. Everyone is ruled by their feelings after all.
When he notices Baekhyun yawning and rubbing his eyes sleepily, it is hours later, and the fiery sentiment between them has mostly dissipated. “Want to go and grab a coffee?” Chanyeol offers, still feeling rather guilty about his explosion earlier that day. “My treat?”
“You have coffee?” Baekhyun asks dubiously, scratching his chin unattractively. “I doubt any cafes are open this late.”
“I have a Keurig,” Chanyeol admits, “But I’m pretty much out of K-Cups, unless you want some of that watery chai stuff. I was actually planning to go grab some canned coffee at the bodega down the street.”
Baekhyun wrinkles his nose, but stands nonetheless. “Coffee is coffee I guess,” he decides, sounding uncertain about it all. “It’s not like I’m particularly picky about coffee of all things. Near brushes with homelessness tend to put things into perspective.”
Chanyeol smiles (in what he hopes is a particularly winning manner) as he pulls on his jacket. “That sure turned around fast, huh? Now you’re going to debut in a few months.”
When Baekhyun’s eyes flit up to meet his, Chanyeol is floored by their expressiveness. It’s not a wholly unfamiliar look- mostly, it’s the look of wonderment that he sees the shorter man sport from time to time, as if he can’t believe that everything is happening for him. But this time, there are a myriad of others mixed in- vulnerability, gratitude.
“It’s thanks to you,” Baekhyun replies. “You helped me get to where I am.”
Though the words are complimentary- and though there is much truth to them- they send a discontented chill down Chanyeol’s spine. He appreciates the acknowledgement of his efforts on Baekhyun’s behalf, but he doesn’t want the basis of their friendship- or relationship, or whatever- to be founded on such unstable grounds. The lines between gratitude and obligation are blurry at best, he thinks, and it would be unwise to straddle it.
“Give yourself some credit,” he says quietly, grabbing his keys from the table. He reaches over and pats the smaller man on the back. “You’ve worked hard as well.”
From the self-deprecating laugh that escapes from Baekhyun, Chanyeol can tell that the topic is far from resolved, but he decides that they will have plenty of time in the future to iron out their issues. Coffee is, after all, a pressing matter.
-
The life that winter had stripped from the world is returned in lush fullness by the timely advent of spring. Birds dart from tree to tree, filling the air with their sweet song, while flowers bloom in quiet patches by the sides of the road. Chanyeol is able to appreciate all this on his daily morning walk, thanks to the mystical powers of caffeine.
He’s on his weekly trip to the supermarket, which is a step forward for him, honestly. Typically, he has thai food boxed off and delivered to his door, mainly because he wouldn’t know multigrain from bin-bin crackers. But today, armed with a grocery list courtesy of Luhan, he is ready to rejoin society as a fully functional citizen.
It’s a little funny how he’s able to appreciate the little things a lot more after being cooped up for so long. The smells of the fresh produce, the sweet promises of ice cream cartons, the funny look of uncooked meat: a diet consisting entirely of takeout and the occasional microwaved meal robs you of that experience.
He means to ignore the tabloid stand at the cash register, he really does. There are just some things that he doesn’t want to see again, and Kris’s face is one of them. Unfortunately, Korea seems to really like Kris’s face, so it’s plastered in tabloids everywhere.
But something catches his eye among the tabloid rack- a headline. Quickly, he snatches a magazine off of the shelf to examine more closely.
Suho and Kris Break-Up, it reads, in the dramatic bold text that often accompany such lurid stories. He flips to the page where the article is printed, catching words like cheating and drinking. Allowing the magazine to flip closed, he closes his eyes and tries to sort through his feelings. Strangely enough, there is no surge of hope, only the satisfaction of righteous justice.
-
It had been hurtling at him with all the delicacy of a bull in a china shop, and somehow he hadn’t seen it coming.
Though they spend a significant amount of time together laying down tracks and working on the album, Chanyeol doesn’t constantly have Baekhyun to himself- the latter has to set aside part of his schedule to work with choreographers to devise and practice dance routines. So occasionally, he is left alone in his studio, cut off from his muse and devoid of inspiration. On such days, he takes it easy, and sometimes goes on longer breaks to treat himself.
On one such day, Chanyeol is on his lunch break, reveling in the joy of delicious food. While he isn’t in possession of the most discerning palate, he does consider himself cultured enough to comprehend certain qualities of food, and the pasta carbonara he has decided to treat himself to is some of the best stuff he’s ever had. He digs in with gusto, and mentally makes a note to revisit the restaurant sometime in the future.
Though he typically silences his phone during mealtimes, he had forgotten to do so in his eagerness to dig in. So when one of the tinny default ringtone plays, it takes Chanyeol a while to realize that the phone at fault is, in fact, his own. Checking the caller ID elicits a frown- though Luhan is an obnoxious friend at times, he has always been generally respectful of the sacred status of lunch break.
Though not necessarily the case, Chanyeol can’t help but imagine that his friend’s failure to adhere to the unspoken rule indicates something pressing, urgent. Looking around, he gauges whether he can take the call at the table- the noisy dining family sitting close by suggests otherwise. Giving his pasta a look filled with longing and heartbreak, he hastens to the restroom to take the call.
“What’s so important that you decided to interrupt my lunch break?” Chanyeol hisses, deciding to forego greetings. He slams the stall closed and locks it, having no desire to draw the eyes of the other people doing their business.
“Are you sitting down?” The concern in Luhan’s voice is evident, even through the noisy telephone static. “You might want to sit down for this.”
Though he had considered the possibility of bad news, the vindication of his expectations are met with frazzled nerves. Quickly, he runs through the various possibilities of what bad news might be broken to him- perhaps the stocks he and Luhan had invested in had all crashed, or maybe something had happened to one of their mutual friends. “What is it?” Chanyeol presses.
A deep breath on the other end. “Yifan is back in Korea,” Luhan answers solemnly. “He asked me to set up a meeting with you.”
Chanyeol blinks. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t this. The anxiety he had been feeling moments earlier has transformed into a roiling mixture of feelings he can’t even begin to identify. He squeezes his eyes shut, and wills himself not to shake, not to feel anything.
Goddamnit. He is so fucking close to putting it behind him, and then fate walks in, fucks everything up, and throws it into his face sadistically. In retrospect, he should have known this moment would come, from the moment he had read about Yifan and Junmyeon’s breakup.
Both he and Luhan are silent for quite a while. He can’t trust himself to speak- Chanyeol fears that if he opens up even a little, all the feelings that he has tried so hard to leave behind him will hurtle to the surface. Chanyeol’s always known why he had been left behind- though they had taken the industry by storm as a team, it had never been enough for Yifan, who has always held big dreams and goals. It’s just a truth he’s always accepted, and it’s something he’s dealt with. But if he hears the words, the truth, then he’s not sure he can survive that pain a second time.
Eventually, he finds his tongue. “I- I don’t think I want to talk to him,” Chanyeol stammers. Though he does his best to control his tone, he can tell that he sounds the slightest bit pathetic anyway. It doesn’t even matter: he just needs to get his point across at all costs.
“Don’t you think you have things to sort out? Don’t you need closure?” Luhan pushes, and Chanyeol can just imagine him shaking his head in disapproval. “It’s just a meeting, Yeol, you don’t have to take him back or anything. You deserve an apology, at the very least, after what he did to you.”
“No,” Chanyeol says adamantly. He’s not sure if meeting up with Yifan is something that he needs, but he knows for a fact that it’s the last thing he wants to do right now. “I- I’ve moved on. Meeting him will just reopen wounds, you know? That’s not something I really need right now.”
If he thinks about it, he has moved on- sort of. While the air between him and Yifan is not quite clear, he knows himself well enough to be able to definitively say that he has put the relationship in the past. It’s a memory that’s been written, and then put away under lock and key. It’s not a fond one he’d like to revisit, not a door he wants to reopen in the slightest.
There’s no longing there anymore, just sadness.
Sadness and fear. If he’s being honest with himself, there’s also a fear there- Yifan hadn’t just left Chanyeol, he had left him in broken pieces. It had taken him forever to glue himself back together, and though whole, he was still fragile. There is a fear there- the fear that he would shatter once more, this time irreparably. All it would take is a few careless shakes.
Some shuffling is audible on the other end of the line, but when Luhan starts talking again, Chanyeol can tell from his tone that he’s won. “I’ll think of something,” he offers resignedly. “I’ll tell him you’ve left the country or something. I don’t know.”
“Thanks Luhan.”
Chanyeol ends the call and leaves the stall, determined not to dwell. There are some people staring at him, who have undoubtedly eavesdropped into the conversation, but he can’t bring himself to care one bit. Instead, he simply rushes to the sink, and splashes some cold water onto his face. He searches his eyes, but they- like his mind- are empty vessels.
When he finally returns to his carbonara, it is cold and stale, like a missed opportunity.
He flags down the waiter. “I’d like to order something else.”
-
Article: Kris Wu returns to Korea.
1. [+1,374, -207] Welcome back Kris-ge
2. [+839, -389] guess he wasn’t making enough money in China ㅋㅋㅋ
3. [+600, -103] I hope he and Chanyeol work on another album together… the last one was top-notch.
-
Sleep is one of the few refuges Chanyeol has where he is safe from the world. Free of shackling responsibilities, free of heavy memories, free of pesky thought and emotion. Sleep is a haven, and a sacred one too. Chanyeol’s not in the habit of setting alarms, because he believes that sleep should be allowed to progress to a natural end.
So when the phone rings and disturbs his slumber, he is a little dispirited. Nothing seems to be going his way these days, he thinks, reluctantly pulling himself out of bed and feeling around his dresser blindly for his cell phone.
His spirits lift when he checks the Caller ID and finds that Baekhyun is on the other end of the line. Feeling his lips quirk into a half-smile, Chanyeol picks up his phone and brings it to his ear. “Hey Baek.” He greets.
“Chanyeol,” His voice is even and pleasant, the perfect image of nonchalance, but there’s an undercurrent of energy beneath the veneer of calm. Chanyeol can just imagine the shorter man bouncing on his toes. “Are you busy right now?”
“Not particularly,” Chanyeol answers. The only thing that had been on his itinerary was sleep, and then lazing about on his bed with laptop (and maybe some league.) He has plans, sure, but he isn’t busy. Not by a long shot.
He hears an endearing giggle through the receiver, and it brings a goofy smile to his own face. “The amusement park is having a promotion,” Baekhyun explains. “Couples get in for the price of one. I need a plus one. I asked Jongdae, but he’s too busy running his café. So I thought to myself, Byun Baekhyun, who would be willing to pretend to be a couple for the sake of riding rides?”
Well, he’s already awake anyway. “Sounds like fun,” Chanyeol yawns, sitting up and stretching. It’s a better plan than spending the entire day cooped up in his house alone, anyway. It’ll be nice to have a companion that isn’t a bad memory. “I’m in.”
“I knew I could count on you.” Baekhyun’s grin is practically audible, and it brings a smile to Chanyeol’s face. “Can we meet up at ten? That’s when it opens.”
He checks his clock again, noting that ten is still a couple of hours away. Just enough time for him to freshen up and snag some breakfast. “Ten sounds good,” Chanyeol answers, throwing off the cover and slipping out of bed. He grabs some clothes from the closet en route to the bathroom. “See you there, Baek.”
-
When Baekhyun hangs up the phone, he hears a squealing sound behind him. Perturbed, he turns around, ¬¬ groaning aloud when he sees Jongdae practically bouncing in excitement.
“It’s a date, isn’t it?” His friend guesses, looking genuinely excited. “You’re going on a date with Chanyeol.”
With a private smile, Baekhyun slips his phone back into his pocket. “Well,” he hedges. “It might be a date. That’s what I was angling for.” He hopes that he’s reading the situation correctly; Chanyeol seems less of a take-charge individual, and more on the awkward side, so Baekhyun had decided to make the first move instead.
-
Baekhyun stands there at the gate, a pair of sunglasses on his face and a duffel bag tossed over his shoulder. When he spots Chanyeol, he pads over in his flip flops, smiling sunnily all the while.
“You ready?” he inquires, linking their arms and peering up, sunglasses adorably tilting askew.
With a grin, Chanyeol leans over and pushes the sunglasses back up the bridge of Baekhyun’s nose. “Fuck yeah I’m ready,” he declares boastfully, raising one fist in a mock cheer.
The entry line is quite long, but Chanyeol doesn’t really mind. He minds it even less when Baekhyun, tired, decides to lean more heavily into his shoulder. He schools his face into as impassive an expression he can manage, but it’s much more difficult to control the blush he feels creeping down his neck.
“You’re burning already?” Baekhyun frowns, craning his head for a better look at Chanyeol’s neck. “I have sunscreen in the duffel bag. You want some of it?”
Alright, so apparently, he’s not that great at controlling the blush. Whatever.
Luckily, they are next in line, so Chanyeol tosses an arm over Baekhyun and sweeps him closer, before peering into the ticket booth. “Two day passes please,” he says cheerfully.
-
“You’re good at basketball, right Chanyeol?”
Baekhyun’s eyes are mischievous, and the way he looks back and forth between Chanyeol and the midway game is especially alarming. Chanyeol’s shoulder is still sore- the shorter man had practically torn his arm out of the socket while dragging him over to the game booth.
“What? No.” Chanyeol guffaws at the question. He doesn’t know what had led Baekhyun to such conclusions, but he needs to disabuse the other of any and all such notions immediately. “I haven’t so much as touched a basketball since high school.”
Pouting, Baekhyun heaves a sigh. “I guess it can’t be helped then,” he remarks sadly.
Chanyeol gives in, because who can be heardhearted enough to resist that? Rolling up his sleeves with a sigh, he steps up to the stand. “I’m going to fail,” he grumbles half-heartedly. “I’m going to utterly fail, and it will be humiliating.”
Baekhyun cheers and claps his hands excitedly. “I have faith in you, Yeol,” he says earnestly, though the way his eyes twinkle in amusement implies otherwise.
“You just want to see me fail.”
Utterly out of practice, Chanyeol is unable to score a single point. Baekhyun doesn’t seem overly disappointed- he still has a gleeful smile on his face as the last ball bounces off the rim uselessly.
“At least you tried,” Baekhyun said patronizingly, stepping on tiptoe to pat his much taller companion on the head.
-
“We shouldn’t have ridden the water coaster,” Baekhyun admonishes with a shiver. His teeth are chattering wildly, and though he holds his drenched shoulders, he cannot suppress their shaking. Chanyeol worries his lower lip, even though his mind is relatively blank. His only thought is that, in hindsight, riding a water coaster in the middle of winter hadn’t been the most responsible of choices. Deciding that there’s nothing they can do about it now, he simply steers them toward a drying station.
The drying station, Chanyeol will freely admit, is a work of genius. Whoever designed the contraption should be awarded a Nobel prize for their contribution to society and the general welfare of mankind. Nevertheless, there is something to be said about stepping into a booth that is essentially a glorified blow dryer. He feels a little self-conscious- it seems almost silly to stand there. He feels like a piece of bread in a toaster oven.
Baekhyun has no such qualms. The shorter man is rubbing himself like a kitten against the vents to bask in the hot air, sighing happily. After a moment of blissful contentment, he pulls the front of his shirt up and holds it against the vent, ostensibly to speed the drying process.
Fuck it, Chanyeol decides. He’s not really getting any dryer by trying to hold on to whatever shreds of his dignity still remain. Deciding to eschew his reservations, he allows himself to totally relax and lean toward the warmth of the booth. He knows that he looks like an overgrown child in doing so, but it’s really, really worth it.
He’s in an amusement park. He’s been feeling real shitty. He has the right to act childish, and fuck anyone who wants to judge him.
“It was fun anyway,” He decides with a wide grin, his eyes flicking down to meet Baekhyun’s. Go hard or go home; never let it be said that Park Chanyeol did anything by halves. “No regrets. Right?” He prods the shorter man in a half-hearted attempt to pressure out the answer he wants.
Quirking his lip, Baekhyun shakes his head. “We’ll see how you feel about it when you wake up with pneumonia,” he remarks wryly, having shifted to expose a different area on his shirt to the heat.
Grin never faltering, Chanyeol leans over and throws an arm across his companion’s shoulder in a show of fraternal camaraderie. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt so comfortable around someone. With his closest friends, he always feels like he has to prove his well-being. With Baekhyun, he doesn’t have to prove anything.
Abruptly, the flow of hot air ceases, causing Baekhyun to frown disappointedly. “I’m not even dry yet,” he complains, squeezing his shirt for emphasis, the water droplets hitting the ground punctuating his point.
Chanyeol laughs. “C’mon Baek,” he says, playfully tugging his reluctant companion out of the booth. “It’s just your shirt, right? We can use the hand dryers in the bathroom.” Because there’s no way in hell he’s springing even a thousand won for just a minute of hot air. What a rip-off.
Baekhyun raises an eyebrow and smiles wryly, but makes no comment.
The bathroom is thankfully empty, no one to witness their shameful deeds. Hurriedly, Baekhyun makes his way to the hand dryer and holds his shirt to it. Chanyeol follows two steps behind, unable to banish his ever present smile.
“Your shirt is still sopping wet,” Chanyeol notes.
Rolling his eyes, Baekhyun shakes his head. “Nice observation, genius,” he retorts dryly, rolling his eyes for an exaggerated effect. Though the flow of air has yet to cease, he slams one of his palms on the button in order to prolong the duration.
There is a lull in the conversation as Baekhyun pulls his shirt up to his neck, scrunches it up, and presses it against the hand-dryer. With no dryer at his own disposal, Chanyeol grabs a handful of his shirt and attempts to wring all the water out of it and into the sink. He glances at Baekhyun as he does so, smiling fondly as he watches the smaller man angles the dryer nozzle for better coverage.
“It still gets damn cold in the evening,” Baekhyun notes worriedly. “I hope I don’t get sick.”
Watching the shorter man shiver, Chanyeol takes pity on him. “Are you dry yet? Come on, let’s head to the gift shop. I’ll buy you a sweater or something.”
Baekhyun looks conflicted, as though torn between his desire to accept the kindness, and his inclination to decline. “I-I… hmm…”
“We can’t have you getting ill,” Chanyeol pointed out, placing both hands on his shoulders and steering him. “You have a strict schedule as it is; if you end up sick, we’ll be even further behind. And Kyungsoo will have my ass mounted for it.”
Relaxing, Baekhyun snorted. “What ass?” He asked skeptically, leaning backwards to inspect Chanyeol’s ass. Feeling intensely embarrassed, Chanyeol moved his hand to the back of Baekhyun’s head and shoved it forward, smiling faintly at the resulting indignant yelp. “It’s not my fault you have no ass,” Baekhyun grumbles.
They walk into the store together, feeling the cozy warmth of the heaters surround them. Chanyeol immediately heads for the clothing area to obtain the sweater he had promised Baekhyun, while the other lagged behind, browsing around and window shopping.
“What size are you, Baek?” Chanyeol wonders.
“Medium.”
Chanyeol looks up and down at Baekhyun’s form skeptically. “Are you sure you’re not a small?” he questions dubiously.
The shorter man rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Yes, I think I do know my size, thank you very much Chanyeol,” he retorts, but there’s a twinkle in his eye and his lips are twitching wildly.
He’s in the middle of debating whether he should buy Baekhyun the sweater or the hoodie (the hoodie has cat ears and a whisker design!!) when the man in question beckons him over. Setting the garments back on the shelves, he obediently makes his way over.
Baekhyun points to a beat-up box on the self. Mood Rings, its label read, and mood rings they are indeed: swirls of color, all lined up in rows and rows. Chanyeol watches as Baekhyun picks one up and tries it one. It takes a moment to jumpstart, but a wave of color begins to overtake the ring at a sluggish pace.
“I haven’t had one of these in years,” he says happily, holding his hand in the air to admire it.
Chanyeol notes the blue color of the ring, before squinting at the chart. “You’re feeling… angry?”
Guffawing, Baekhyun shakes his head. “No one ever accused these of being accurate,” he answers. “But they’re fun anyway.” He points to the stand beside the mood rings. “Look, they’ve got mood bracelets, mood necklaces… it’s like a mood emporium!”
Maybe Baekhyun’s excitement is contagious, or maybe he is fascinated after all, but Chanyeol finds himself inspecting a mood pendant thoughtfully. While he doesn’t put much stock in their ability, they do seem like amusing trinkets nonetheless.
“Come on then,” Chanyeol says cheerfully. “Bring it to the cash register. We can both get some mood rings.”
Baekhyun cheers energetically, obviously happy about the prospect.
Decked out in the slightly oversized kitty hoodie (“I told you that you weren’t a medium!”) and his silly mood ring, Baekhyun looks laughably childish. It’s endearing, really, and he can’t stop a fond smile from coming over his face.
Baekhyun frowns, interpreting his reaction wrongly. “Stop staring,” he commands self-consciously, wriggling in an attempt to pull his hand from Chanyeol’s grip. “Do I look ridiculous? I look ridiculous, don’t I?”
For a moment, Chanyeol considers not letting go of the hand. It would certainly get his point across, and if not then a well-timed intense gaze probably would. Ultimately though, he doesn’t have the balls to make that kind of move. His hand clenches around emptiness, feeling strangely bereft.
Neither of them are really paying attention to where they’re going, so it’s little to no surprise when they bump into someone. Or more specifically, Baekhyun does.
“Oh, crap, I’m so sorry-” he abruptly stops, still gaping widely at the girl he bumped into.
She’s rubbing her shoulder and giving him a wan smile. “Hi Baekhyun,” she greets him. “Didn’t expect to see you around here.”
Chanyeol observes, with a sinking heart, the solemn expression on Baekhyun’s face, as well as the longing look in his eyes. It’s easy to guess who the stranger is now: there is little doubt in his mind that the short, pretty young woman before them is Baekhyun’s ex-girlfriend.
“H-hey Taeyeon,” the other man stutters while scratching his head, and suddenly Chanyeol feels like an intruder.
“I’ll just leave you two to talk then,” he says unhappily, but neither of them acknowledge him anyway. He feels peculiarly blank as he walks to a nearby bench to sit. For a few moments, he debates watching them, but ultimately decides against it. Instead, he pulls out his phone and fiddles with it for a bit: tech toys have always provided an excellent source of entertainment, he reasons.
After besting his flappy bird score three times, Chanyeol notes with some disappointment that the two are still talking. They appear to have migrated to the shade below a tree, sitting side by side on the grass. And they look good together, he decides.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he stands up. Awkwardly hovering and watching isn’t healthy: he’s in an amusement park, and there are literally so many things he could be doing right now. Arbitrarily, he chooses a roller-coaster in his peripheral vision. With determination in his gait, he walks over to the start of the line.
-
It’s dark outside before Chanyeol receives the text. After hours of riding rides and enjoying himself, he’d retired to a remote hill somewhere in the park to wait for the fireworks. As far as he can see, there seem to be mainly couples and families; he’s the only one who’s by himself. The observation makes him feel a little lonely if he thinks it over too hard, so he keeps his eyes to the sky.
He’s startled when the phone in his pocket vibrates. Efficiently, he whips it out and taps the screen impatiently, until his notifications show up.
From Baekhyun: where r u
His fingers are hovering over the tiny keyboard, ready to type in his response, when he realizes that he doesn’t exactly know. He hadn’t bothered to pick up a map, and besides, it was too dark to read one anyway.
And besides. There’s a part of him that feels a little petty. It’s really tempting not to reply.
But in the end, he does. Partly because he’s not a child, and partly because there’s still some semblance of hope within his heart, trying desperately to burrow its way to the surface. He casts a glance at the nearest attraction to get a general sense of where he was situated, before turning his attention back to the phone.
To Baekhyun: im by the Pyongyang coaster
Pocketing his phone, he turns his attention back to the night sky. The darkness of the new moon allows the dim stars to twinkle more radiantly, and he had little doubt that the fireworks show would be amazing.
The first sparklers are exploding in the air when he feels the grass sink beside him. A sideways glance reveals to him that Baekhyun has seated himself there, an uncertain expression on his face.
“Hey,” he smiles, acknowledging the other’s presence. He doesn’t know that he has much to say to Baekhyun, not now. “The fireworks are just starting; you got here just in time.”
“Listen,” Baekhyun begins apologetically, “I’m sorry for leaving in the middle of our date. I just needed to clear the air with Taeyeon a bit. Get some closure, you know?”
Shrugging Chanyeol reclines. “It’s not like you walked out on me in the middle of a date or anything,” he says, laughing it off, even if that’s exactly how it felt like. His laugh sounds brittle and fake even to himself.
“Oh.” Baekhyun sounds a little bit disheartened, which Chanyeol really wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t spent so much time with him in the last few months. But when the fireworks light up the air around them, he can see that there’s a look on his face as he quickly averts his gaze. Chanyeol begins to suspect that, perhaps, Baekhyun had intended for this to be a date after all.
He doesn’t have the audacity to voice his questions aloud- not yet, anyway. He’s still learning the ropes with this interaction thing. He doesn’t trust himself to say a word without getting tongue tied. Instead, he scoots closer, and reaches an arm around Baekhyun’s waist.
Baekhyun looks up at him with a surprised look.
“Let’s watch the fireworks, Baek,” Chanyeol says happily, pulling them in closer together and pointing toward the sky. Above them, another shower of sparks bloom, imbuing everything with a simmering blue glow.
Hesitantly, Baekhyun leans into his shoulder, and together they watch the skies.
-
They’re barely through the door, and they’re already a mess of tangled limbs. Baekhyun walks in front, pushing the door open with a clumsy haste, while Chanyeol hovers behind him, taking any opportunity to kiss and nip at his neck.
It messes with Baekhyun’s coordination just a little bit, and it takes him quite a few fumbles before the door flies open. Grabbing the taller man’s hands, he leads the both of them into the bedroom. With a winning smile, Baekhyun sits down on the bed, before pulling his t-shirt over his head, revealing a smooth expanse of milky white skin.
Chanyeol is about to join him, when he remembers that the lube is in the closet. He retrieves it hastily, shedding his clothes all the while, and when he has returned to Baekhyun’s side, they are both completely naked. He sets it down on the ground beside the bed, and keeps his attention solely on Baekhyun.
He feels an urge to say something complimentary- maybe you’re so beautiful or something equally cheesy. But, (luckily for him) the smarter half of his brain manages to catch up to, and strangle the thought before it evolves into anything tangible. Instead of words, Chanyeol gently pushes Baekhyun onto the bed, and angles a fond gaze into his eyes. He hopes that it says everything that he can’t.
Distantly, he can feel hands running up and down his shoulders, but he doesn’t think much of it. He can’t think much of anything, not really, not like this. It’s all impulse and instinct as he lowers his head down and licks a stripe across Baekhyun’s mouth, which slackens to allow him entry.
The taste isn’t literally sweet, of course, but there’s metaphorical sweetness in their kiss. Experimentally, he laps at the roof of Baekhyun’s mouth, before probing deeper with his tongue.
As Baekhyun’s hands trail lower, Chanyeol finds it difficult to suppress his shivers. It’s not his first time, but it’s been a very long time, and his body is extra sensitive. He moans into Baekhyun’s mouth when a hand takes his member in a firm grip, before jacking it up and down in rapid strokes.
Not wanting to cum prematurely, he pulls away, absentmindedly licking his lips as he takes in the scene before him. It’s quite a sight to see Baekhyun staring up at him from under glazed, half-lidded eyes. His tousled hair is a fan against the wrinkled fabric of his pillowcase. Chanyeol does his best to commit everything to memory.
“I hope you douched,” are the eloquent words that slip through his mouth, and his eyes widen after he registers what he just said. Fuck, he hopes that he hasn’t just killed the mood.
Luckily, Baekhyun seems to find it funny rather than offensive. He laughs freely, his eyes scrunching up into small discs. “Don’t worry big guy,” he reassures. “You’re not going to get shitdick.”
Carefully, he rolls the condom onto his length. It feels a little tight and constricting around him (maybe he should have purchased a different size,) but he can’t be too bothered about it now. He reaches one hand down to the ground and starts to feel around for the bottle of lube.
It feels cold on his fingers, so he warms it up in his hands first, not wanting to cause Baekhyun any undue discomfort. When Chanyeol is satisfied with the temperature, he places his fingers at the tight, pink hole and slowly worms his way in.
Baekhyun’s face scrunches up in distaste, but he doesn’t look to be in any pain. Chanyeol’s up to the knuckle now, so he pulls his finger out to the tip before sliding it back in. After a few minutes, he adds a second finger, all the while monitoring Baekhyun’s reactions.
Adding a third finger is what really proves a reaction. He watches with rapt fascination as Baekhyun’s eyes widen, and his pretty mouth opens to allow a soft moan to escape. Wanting to hear it again, Chanyeol angles his fingers differently and tries for the same spot. His efforts are rewarded with another soft moan.
“You should… hurry up,” Baekhyun pants, eyebrow raised in a challenge. “At this rate, I’ll be a fossil before I get any dick.”
Chanyeol shakes his head with a grin. Grabbing his cock, he lines it up to Baekhyun’s entrance. Slowly, he rubs the cockhead around, before pushing against it.
At first, there is some resistance, but then it gives way and the tip of his cock his in Baekhyun. Keeping his eyes on the other man’s face, he slowly begins to slide in.
When he notices Baekhyun’s fingers clenching the sheet, he ceases. “Are you okay?” he asks concernedly.
Releasing a huff of air, Baekhyun nods. “Yeah, yeah I’m great,” he mumbles. “I just haven’t been with a guy for a while, so it’s going to take some getting used to.” He closes his eyes. “Keep going,” he urges.
With a nod, Chanyeol continues on his trajectory inward. It’s such an amazing sight, to watch that tiny hole just devour his dick inch by inch. He can barely comprehend it when he’s fully sheathed; the sight of his hips pressed up against Baekhyun’s, coupled with the sensation of being enveloped in a velvety warmth, is overpowering.
“Holy shit,” Baekhyun mutters, face tense. “You’re fucking huge.”
“Sorry,” Chanyeol says meekly, but he feels a burst of pride nevertheless.
Initially, he sets a slow pace: he would gingerly pull his cock out, watching as it emerged from the pink hole little by little. And then, when he was just barely still inside, he would snap his hips forward, the force of the movement jolting both of their bodies.
But it’s not enough for Baekhyun, apparently. “Harder,” he commands, voice scratchy and harsh. “Faster! How the fuck am I supposed to get off like this?”
Chanyeol acquiesces. He pulls himself out slowly one more time, and holds the position to keep Baekhyun in suspense. After a few moments, he thrusts in, and begins to jackhammer away.
The anticipation builds, until eventually he can feel it mix with small jolts of electric pleasure. He’s knows that his climax is close at hand, but Baekhyun still hasn’t cum yet, so he squeezes his buttocks in a desperate attempt to stave off orgasm, trying his best not to let the sensations get through to him quite so much.
When Baekhyun cums, it’s like he’s gotten permission to do so as well. There is a burst of pleasure accompanied by a strong sense of satisfaction as he empties himself into the condom.
-
When Chanyeol finally awakens, Baekhyun is already up and dressed. The other man is sitting at his desk, flipping through one of Chanyeol’s private songbooks.
A month ago, he would have overreacted. He would have gotten all up in arms, thrown a few things around, snatched the songbooks, and quite possibly reduced Baekhyun to tears. There are a lot of beautiful and painful memories associated with that songbook- he had even considered it sacred, once upon a time.
But today, he does none of those things. Instead, he lays there and watches with a smile on his face, thinking to himself how adorable Baekhyun looks in his clothes, and conspiring up other ways to get him to wear them.
“Oh, you’re awake,” Baekhyun finally notices, slamming the songbook shut. “Sorry, I just-”
Chanyeol waves a hand. “It’s not a big deal,” he yawns magnanimously. “Keep reading it if you want.”
Baekhyun glances between him and the songbook inquisitively. “These are beautiful songs,” he notes, curious. “They’re all about love… they’re different from your usual stuff.”
With a laugh, Chanyeol nods. “You could say they are,” he says at length. “They’re all about the same person. My last boyfriend.”
Cocking his head sideways in curiosity, Baekhyun pouts. “You can’t leave it at that!” he complains, but he continues to flip through the sheet music without pushing the topic. “They keep getting sadder,” he says finally, his voice soft.
“Well, yeah,” he points out, with the tone of someone explaining the obvious. “We kind of broke up on less than stellar terms.”
Eyes widening, Baekhyun allows the book to drop back onto the desk. “You should have told me from the start,” he fusses.
“It’s kind of implied in the ex.” Laughing throatily, Chanyeol shakes his head. “And anyway, I’m over it; relax.”
Baekhyun blinks twice. “Okay then,” he decides, scratching his head. He gives the cover a reverent stroke. “These are good songs,” he notes, “You should sell them. There are some fucking brilliant ballads.”
Pursing his lips, Chanyeol gives it some consideration. “I don’t know; it just seems sort of… crass? Like, revealing our private lives to the world. I don’t think he’d like that very much.”
“But these songs aren’t about your private life,” Baekhyun counters. “They’re about your feelings.” He leans down to read the words more closely, as if to reassure himself of his own statement. “You should give me one of these to sing,” he tries earnestly. “I think I could do it justice.”
Sighing, Chanyeol slips out of bed and pads over, to take a look at exactly which one Baekhyun wanted.
-
Article: Baekhyun debut showcase
1. [+2,389, -533] He can actually sing ㅋㅋㅋ
2. [+1,836. -230] Do justice to Chanyeol-hyung! Hwaiting…
3. [+668, -786] Let’s be honest... he only sounds good because the song is good and the mr is loud ㅋㅋㅋ
-
The venue is completely dark save for the stage lights. There’s no one there at the moment aside from the band, but Chanyeol knows that Baekhyun will be ready soon. He’s attended all of the rehearsals, and he knows how it goes, how much time it will take. The schedule might as well be on the back of his hand.
He’s seated in the front row between Kyungsoo and Jongin. Kyungsoo has his eyes glued on the stage (no surprise there; Baekhyun is an investment after all,) and Jongin is scrolling on his phone. The light from the tiny screen sort of disrupts the atmosphere, but nobody calls him out on his atrocious manners.
He’s is pretty sure it’ll be a success. Baekhyun has talent, after all, and Chanyeol is nothing if not confident in his own compositions. He knows which song Baekhyun is singing today- it’s a damn good one, and Baekhyun will handle it admirably.
Kyungsoo tilts his head toward Chanyeol to whisper. “What was up with the last minute track changes to the album?” He doesn’t sound angry or worried, only a little confused.
Chanyeol smiles at that. “I just had some songs I wanted Baekhyun to sing,” he answers. It satisfies Kyungsoo, who nods thoughtfully. “It’s not like I replaced a bop or anything; most of the cut tracks were filler.”
Though it appears as though Kyungsoo wouldn’t mind pursuing the topic further, the dimming of stage lights calls their attention to the front. Where there had been an empty stage, there was a mic stand now.
Slowly, and with purpose, Baekhyun walks onstage. Maybe Chanyeol is biased, but he thinks that his lover looks every bit the star. There is a serenity in his smile, as well as the sort of ebullience that cannot really be dimmed; he’s living his dream, Chanyeol thinks fondly.
Baekhyun picks up the microphone and holds it close. “Hey everybody,” he smiles with a cheerful wave. “I’m Byun Baekhyun. Please take care of me!”