Jigsaw
Title: Jigsaw
Characters: Baekhyun, Chanyeol
Genre: Angst
Length: 2,810 words
Rating: R for
The kisses are compulsory. Stale and cold.
Yet the presence of one another is too big to erase.
***
Chanyeol woke up in the middle of the night to nothing. He panted, his eyes jolted open and he looked to his right for normalcy, assuring that Baekhyun was still fast asleep. He sighed, sat up and hid his face in both hands, tired of this happening again.
Chanyeol slowly crawled out of bed, and took sleepy steps outside the room. He left the door half closed, and took a glass of water. He sat down at the dining table, and took a mischievous look at their bills in the messy pile of envelopes they left there, even though he knew the numbers exactly. Chanyeol put back the letters into its envelopes, finished his drink, and went back to their room. He crawled back to bed, body facing Baekhyun’s back. He smiled dearly, although looking at Baekhyun’s back only felt too distant, as if looking at an aging picture.
Chanyeol reached Baekhyun with thick hesitation, hovering his hand down the boy’s figure. His hand stopped at the waist, almost dropping to rest there, but he backed away, thinking that maybe, it wasn’t necessary anymore.
He took his hand under his pillow, and tried to go to sleep.
***
Baekhyun didn’t really like Chanyeol anymore. He remembered he did-loved him, even-once, twice, when his long fingers lock with Chanyeol’s stubby but even longer fingers. It didn’t make things better that Chanyeol always had a world of his own and had never actually tried to look for him.
They were eating dinner.
Chopsticks clanking silently, no dialog, no monolog. One of them would usually initiate dialog with a “How was your day?” but today, no one even cared to ask. Chanyeol sat across Baekhyun in their flat’s makeshift dining room. The tablecloth was a span of obnoxious yellow; thick, dull, and poorly patterned.
Chanyeol finished the meal faster, taking his bowl to the sink and washing it himself before leaving to open IE from the laptop in their room.
From the bedroom, some ten minutes later, he could hear water from the sink tap flowing, dishes clanking. When he thought Baekhyun was done with his dishes and would go to the bedroom, the boy actually went to the bathroom. Avoiding him, almost.
It felt like he was running away. They were both running away. The silence was sharp and bothering, but they liked facing the toxic silence better than hiding in the normalcy of the TV’s ambience.
When Baekhyun entered the bedroom smelling like mint, water and facial foam, Chanyeol didn’t give any gesture of regard. Baekhyun walked slightly further to the other corner of the room, and unplugged his phone from the charger sticking to the outlet. From the corner of his eye Chanyeol saw Baekhyun flopping on the bed and playing with his phone. Chanyeol continued his unimportant Naver exploration.
It took some twenty more minutes before Chanyeol could finally stop pretending to be so engaged in googling. When he left the desk and took his space beside Baekhyun, he watched as Baekhyun smiled so eagerly replying whatever message was on the phone display. He had never seen that in months now.
Baekhyun knew Chanyeol was watching, so he turned his face to Chanyeol with bright eyes, lips pursed to hide the wide smile he wanted to show, as if asking, “See?! Can’t you feel this happiness with me?”
“No,” Chanyeol thought, overly confused.
Chanyeol looked and felt bewildered searching into Baekhyun’s eyes. He could not see, he could not find anything. As if Baekhyun was an open Wi-Fi that suddenly needed a password; the SSID was there, blinking bright and obvious in the list of networks, but Chanyeol could never connect.
Baekhyun went back to his phone, and Chanyeol still pondered.
***
Chanyeol worked lighter shifts than Baekhyun and had an uglier phone than Baekhyun’s. Often times, Baekhyun’s calls wouldn’t get to him. Other times, he didn’t want Baekhyun’s calls to get to him. Baekhyun liked calling, but Chanyeol did not like answering. He never liked phone conversations-the dialogs were always distorted and annoying. What Chanyeol liked was touching Baekhyun, feeling the full presence, and the warmth on the skin of his arm. What Baekhyun liked was keeping in touch with Chanyeol, just so that they wouldn’t drown in each other’s list of priorities.
Baekhyun had drowned in Chanyeol’s list. He was never a priority, or so he thought. Each time he asked for some time together, Chanyeol would set up really, really weird excuses; from taking his mom shopping to going to a sudden night class. He would tell himself that it was all okay-Chanyeol had too pure a heart to be a liar.
He couldn’t lie that he was getting tired of it, though. He started playing around with his coworkers, throwing makeouts here, makeouts there. Chanyeol wouldn’t know. Chanyeol wouldn’t care. He would be naïve enough to believe anything Baekhyun would say.
Chanyeol stopped being a remedy along the way, slowly turning into an obligation more than a need. Baekhyun had trained detachment in this relationship, because that’s what he thought Chanyeol was wanting: space. Baekhyun ran and did secret ventures behind Chanyeol’s back, to give all the space Chanyeol wanted. He started to treat Chanyeol as food and water; only used and consumed when he needed it.
***
Baekhyun texted on the bed again tonight. Happily.
Usually, things that seem wrong and are done without guilt, are things that the person does not consider as a wrong thing. Chanyeol often thought that Baekhyun was just immersed in playing games, but no one ever looked so anxious waiting for a beep-a ringtone-playing a game. If his guesses were right, then Chanyeol must’ve treated Baekhyun so, very bad that Baekhyun felt okay texting someone else in his face.
Chanyeol half felt sorry for both of them, and he half felt that maybe, this affair Baekhyun might be leading, is okay. Maybe he did deserve that, for never giving Baekhyun the attention he asked for. He wanted to sleep, but he knew what was actually going on in those beeps and conversations. He didn’t need to peek, he didn’t need anyone to tell him.
“Baekhyun.”
“Yes, darling?” A name only thrown when he was being so happy. Chanyeol turned on his pillow to face Baekhyun.
“Tell me, what’s his name?”
“What name?” Baekhyun gave a mischievous laugh and kissed Chanyeol. Baekhyun feels happy, but Chanyeol feels nothing. “His name is Chanyeol,” he answered, mischievously, and left his phone to focus on doing his responsibility loving Chanyeol. Baekhyun never kissed Chanyeol like that. Those kisses were not tailored for Chanyeol. Chanyeol was just an outlet for these kisses; he knew all too well that they were not meant for him.
***
They finally had sex again after two weeks.
Baekhyun was always the aggressor, lurching kisses after kisses, pushes after pushes, growing even more unfair and demanding as time goes by. Chanyeol was fully Baekhyun’s-he himself was the price he was so willing to pay. Baekhyun had stopped being Chanyeol’s for months-elusive, sharp, always getting whatever he wanted without paying the fair price.
Chanyeol writhed under Baekhyun, mind clouded but not thoroughly into it. Baekhyun was always an amazing fucker, using all the tricks in the book, utilizing all of Chanyeol’s spots, luring Chanyeol into submission without a second thought.
Baekhyun came while biting Chanyeol’s ear, Chanyeol giving a long moan in return. It was warm and welcoming, Baekhyun’s come. It was the only moment that Chanyeol could feel that Baekhyun was also his again. Baekhyun pulled out of him and panted harshly over him as he regained his senses.
Baekhyun was a quick relieving type of person. He took only a moment to get his power back and kiss Chanyeol into another round, just an encore quickie, ignoring the fact that he hadn’t let Chanyeol come at all. Chanyeol was a strong holder; he would always try his best to never, ever come before Baekhyun-and he could make his body do that.
Chanyeol was all Baekhyun’s, but Baekhyun was never Chanyeol’s.
Baekhyun pulled away after coming again, and left Chanyeol alone to clean in the bathroom not long after. When the bathroom door clicked close, Chanyeol sighed somehow, and faced sideways so he could finally finish himself. It more than hurts holding it for so long, he thought, as he slid his hand very quickly on his slick manhood. He should finish before Baekhyun comes out of the bathroom, so he prays to his body to make it quick, because he couldn’t stand it anymore.
He cried from the bottom of his lungs, the come staining the innocent blue wall. He voiced another deep grunt, waiting for all of it to spew out. He wasn’t paying attention when the bathroom door opened and Baekhyun climbed up the bed, and softly hugged him from behind by the shoulders, as if they loved each other, as if nothing ever happened. He kissed the nape of Chanyeol’s neck, Chanyeol’s hand still staying there, waiting Baekhyun to shift before he dared moving.
When Chanyeol woke up the following morning, Baekhyun was on his own side of the bed, back against him. Chanyeol carefully, slowly stood up, and started his painful, tacky way to the dresser to take something to wear before cleaning himself in the bathroom, his hole hurting pretty bad.
Chanyeol walked slowly out the bathroom to the kitchen, kindly making coffee and sandwich for the both of them. He took one mug to the room and caressed Baekhyun’s head, smoothing down his hair. The smell of the coffee was enough to wake Baekhyun up.
Baekhyun’s eyes flickered sleepily. He slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes before thanking Chanyeol with a mumble, staring earnestly. Chanyeol kissed the top of his head and left to have his coffee alone in the kitchen.
***
Baekhyun never believed in love at first sight, but that’s what had happened with him on Chanyeol when he saw him at the hallway back in high school. He was a chaser-he wanted Chanyeol, so he made really tiring advances on this really dense Dumbo for two whole years, before finally coaxing a mutual friend to coax Chanyeol to confess to him. Baekhyun’s approaches toward Chanyeol were playful instead of naughty-Chanyeol was notorious for being that innocent guy, so Baekhyun had to play it that way. Chanyeol himself didn’t know whether the feelings were mutual or made up in gratitude as he finally gave them a shot.
Now that time had given Baekhyun a teensy bit of common sense, he just wanted to laugh at himself.
Chanyeol liked playing with bugs, ferrets, wooden sticks-things that just weren’t his size or age anymore. Baekhyun had thought he would slap some maturity in this boy and make him finally eighteen, but it was either he failed, or he just needed one more try. Baekhyun realized that maybe this was just all a tiring game and he should quit and get a better life-he wasn’t getting anything anyway.
Just when he had thought so, on their way home from a date after school, Chanyeol had dragged him to an alley and kissed him senseless, just as a proof.
***
“I…” Baekhyun started, sitting on his side of the bed. He usually never stuttered. The room was dark, lit with only a tinge of yellow from the bedside lamp. Chanyeol looked up to him, but Baekhyun kept staring at his own fingers on his lap.
“I’ve been wanting to break up with you since last year,” he said.
Chanyeol scoffed and looked up to the ceiling. Baekhyun had said it a bajillion times before.
“Are you okay with that?” Baekhyun asked again.
Chanyeol breathed. He did not want to answer.
“Chanyeol.”
Baekhyun sighed.
“Chanyeol, I was asking.”
Baekhyun gave up and looked to the desk ahead of him. The clock ticked too loudly.
“I tried to make it up for you,” Chanyeol whispered to the ceiling.
Baekhyun sighed. “You never knew how. You never answered me, so I decided that I could answer things myself. I stopped asking you permission. I stopped telling. I stopped asking you for anything.”
“I gave back to you,” Chanyeol replied.
“That’s-“ Baekhyun knew that the dialog would be tiring. Dialogs with Chanyeol were always tiring.
It was silent again.
Baekhyun decided to turn his back away and go to sleep. Chanyeol looked at the ceiling, asking the lightbulb if maybe they weren’t meant for each other after all.
When Chanyeol woke up, he had the bedroom to himself.
***
Chanyeol was wrong when he thought Baekhyun would come back. He learned that there were only half the contents of his dresser, and half the contents of the shoe rack, yet it didn’t feel as painful as the heartbreaks people make stories of in songs and on TV. Chanyeol didn’t call Baekhyun, because he didn’t know what to say-he did once and hung up, and never called again.
But it would be a full-fledged lie to say that Chanyeol was okay. Chanyeol had a hard time sleeping, Chanyeol wasn’t focused, Chanyeol fell sick. It was so bad that it was physiological: he got a pretty bad fever on the ninth day and wasn’t getting better, even though he’d been breaking fever sweat the whole time.
Chanyeol did get better, two days later. The whole time self medicating, he finally realized that Baekhyun was that big and influential in his life. He spent time thinking, sometimes crying so bad at why he had never paid attention.
The doorbell rang.
Chanyeol shot up from his fetal position under his blanket and raced for the door, in hopes that it would be Baekhyun wanting to come back or whatever as long as it’s Baekhyun.
To his delight, it was Baekhyun. Chanyeol saw a bone-breaking hug and a true, longing-brimmed kiss, but,
“I need to take the rest of my stuff. Sort of,” said Baekhyun with a blank face.
Chanyeol had to step aside and let Baekhyun in. He closed the door, asking, “Where did you put the rest of your clothes?”
“Home.”
Baekhyun walked to their-his-Chanyeol’s-room and stood in front of their-Chanyeol’s-dresser, waiting for permission to open it. Chanyeol stood by the bedroom door, wanting to sigh but he didn’t.
“Is it appropriate if I say that I’m sorry?” Chanyeol asked, still leaning to the doorframe.
Baekhyun turned his face to him, then turned his face back to the top of the dresser.
“Don’t you want to stay?” he asked again, still leaning to the doorframe. Baekhyun also remained in his position.
“Don’t you like being here with me?” Chanyeol continued. He didn’t mind at all sounding that desperate.
Baekhyun moved to the desk, and sat down. Chanyeol entered the room and sat with legs crossed on the bed.
“I like you, really,” Baekhyun started, “But we don’t click. We don’t care about each other. You always complain, I always leave. We burden each other. Don’t you realize that?”
“You’re not… a burden…”
Baekhyun scoffed. “As if, Chanyeol.” He shifted and leaned on the seat’s back, sitting backwards facing Chanyeol. Chanyeol reserved to picking at the bedsheet silently.
“But,” Baekhyun started, very carefully, “Don’t you have this feeling that I was… kind of… you know, made for you?”
Chanyeol looked up to Baekhyun for a while, but then resumed his reverie. Baekhyun continued, just so the silence won’t grow any further. “Because I do.”
The clock kept ticking, slowly, in time with their contemplative breaths.
“That was actually why I asked you back.” Chanyeol said, still picking on the bedsheet.
The clock ticked on.
Chanyeol moved from his place and opened the dresser, carefully picking Baekhyun’s smaller clothes and pants. “You can leave, though.”
Baekhyun watched as Chanyeol sorted and took everything in the dresser that was not his. Chanyeol wasn’t kicking him out, he was doing a favor. Chanyeol stacked the clothes, pants, and underwear, and handed them to Baekhyun on the desk. Chanyeol gave a friendly smile.
“Fate will decide. We’ll just be with each other again someday if that’s how it’s supposed to be. I guess that’s what you always told me.”
Baekhyun accepted the stack of clothes and followed Chanyeol out the bedroom. Chanyeol took whatever was Baekhyun’s along the way.“Thanks, though,” Baekhyun said, as he shuffled for his shoes. He opened his arms wide for a farewell hug, and went out of the house waving to Chanyeol, with a good smile in good terms for good.
…except that ‘good’ ended three years later, when they bumped into each other in a high school friend’s bachelor party. J
Characters: Baekhyun, Chanyeol
Genre: Angst
Length: 2,810 words
Rating: R for
The kisses are compulsory. Stale and cold.
Yet the presence of one another is too big to erase.
***
Chanyeol woke up in the middle of the night to nothing. He panted, his eyes jolted open and he looked to his right for normalcy, assuring that Baekhyun was still fast asleep. He sighed, sat up and hid his face in both hands, tired of this happening again.
Chanyeol slowly crawled out of bed, and took sleepy steps outside the room. He left the door half closed, and took a glass of water. He sat down at the dining table, and took a mischievous look at their bills in the messy pile of envelopes they left there, even though he knew the numbers exactly. Chanyeol put back the letters into its envelopes, finished his drink, and went back to their room. He crawled back to bed, body facing Baekhyun’s back. He smiled dearly, although looking at Baekhyun’s back only felt too distant, as if looking at an aging picture.
Chanyeol reached Baekhyun with thick hesitation, hovering his hand down the boy’s figure. His hand stopped at the waist, almost dropping to rest there, but he backed away, thinking that maybe, it wasn’t necessary anymore.
He took his hand under his pillow, and tried to go to sleep.
***
Baekhyun didn’t really like Chanyeol anymore. He remembered he did-loved him, even-once, twice, when his long fingers lock with Chanyeol’s stubby but even longer fingers. It didn’t make things better that Chanyeol always had a world of his own and had never actually tried to look for him.
They were eating dinner.
Chopsticks clanking silently, no dialog, no monolog. One of them would usually initiate dialog with a “How was your day?” but today, no one even cared to ask. Chanyeol sat across Baekhyun in their flat’s makeshift dining room. The tablecloth was a span of obnoxious yellow; thick, dull, and poorly patterned.
Chanyeol finished the meal faster, taking his bowl to the sink and washing it himself before leaving to open IE from the laptop in their room.
From the bedroom, some ten minutes later, he could hear water from the sink tap flowing, dishes clanking. When he thought Baekhyun was done with his dishes and would go to the bedroom, the boy actually went to the bathroom. Avoiding him, almost.
It felt like he was running away. They were both running away. The silence was sharp and bothering, but they liked facing the toxic silence better than hiding in the normalcy of the TV’s ambience.
When Baekhyun entered the bedroom smelling like mint, water and facial foam, Chanyeol didn’t give any gesture of regard. Baekhyun walked slightly further to the other corner of the room, and unplugged his phone from the charger sticking to the outlet. From the corner of his eye Chanyeol saw Baekhyun flopping on the bed and playing with his phone. Chanyeol continued his unimportant Naver exploration.
It took some twenty more minutes before Chanyeol could finally stop pretending to be so engaged in googling. When he left the desk and took his space beside Baekhyun, he watched as Baekhyun smiled so eagerly replying whatever message was on the phone display. He had never seen that in months now.
Baekhyun knew Chanyeol was watching, so he turned his face to Chanyeol with bright eyes, lips pursed to hide the wide smile he wanted to show, as if asking, “See?! Can’t you feel this happiness with me?”
“No,” Chanyeol thought, overly confused.
Chanyeol looked and felt bewildered searching into Baekhyun’s eyes. He could not see, he could not find anything. As if Baekhyun was an open Wi-Fi that suddenly needed a password; the SSID was there, blinking bright and obvious in the list of networks, but Chanyeol could never connect.
Baekhyun went back to his phone, and Chanyeol still pondered.
***
Chanyeol worked lighter shifts than Baekhyun and had an uglier phone than Baekhyun’s. Often times, Baekhyun’s calls wouldn’t get to him. Other times, he didn’t want Baekhyun’s calls to get to him. Baekhyun liked calling, but Chanyeol did not like answering. He never liked phone conversations-the dialogs were always distorted and annoying. What Chanyeol liked was touching Baekhyun, feeling the full presence, and the warmth on the skin of his arm. What Baekhyun liked was keeping in touch with Chanyeol, just so that they wouldn’t drown in each other’s list of priorities.
Baekhyun had drowned in Chanyeol’s list. He was never a priority, or so he thought. Each time he asked for some time together, Chanyeol would set up really, really weird excuses; from taking his mom shopping to going to a sudden night class. He would tell himself that it was all okay-Chanyeol had too pure a heart to be a liar.
He couldn’t lie that he was getting tired of it, though. He started playing around with his coworkers, throwing makeouts here, makeouts there. Chanyeol wouldn’t know. Chanyeol wouldn’t care. He would be naïve enough to believe anything Baekhyun would say.
Chanyeol stopped being a remedy along the way, slowly turning into an obligation more than a need. Baekhyun had trained detachment in this relationship, because that’s what he thought Chanyeol was wanting: space. Baekhyun ran and did secret ventures behind Chanyeol’s back, to give all the space Chanyeol wanted. He started to treat Chanyeol as food and water; only used and consumed when he needed it.
***
Baekhyun texted on the bed again tonight. Happily.
Usually, things that seem wrong and are done without guilt, are things that the person does not consider as a wrong thing. Chanyeol often thought that Baekhyun was just immersed in playing games, but no one ever looked so anxious waiting for a beep-a ringtone-playing a game. If his guesses were right, then Chanyeol must’ve treated Baekhyun so, very bad that Baekhyun felt okay texting someone else in his face.
Chanyeol half felt sorry for both of them, and he half felt that maybe, this affair Baekhyun might be leading, is okay. Maybe he did deserve that, for never giving Baekhyun the attention he asked for. He wanted to sleep, but he knew what was actually going on in those beeps and conversations. He didn’t need to peek, he didn’t need anyone to tell him.
“Baekhyun.”
“Yes, darling?” A name only thrown when he was being so happy. Chanyeol turned on his pillow to face Baekhyun.
“Tell me, what’s his name?”
“What name?” Baekhyun gave a mischievous laugh and kissed Chanyeol. Baekhyun feels happy, but Chanyeol feels nothing. “His name is Chanyeol,” he answered, mischievously, and left his phone to focus on doing his responsibility loving Chanyeol. Baekhyun never kissed Chanyeol like that. Those kisses were not tailored for Chanyeol. Chanyeol was just an outlet for these kisses; he knew all too well that they were not meant for him.
***
They finally had sex again after two weeks.
Baekhyun was always the aggressor, lurching kisses after kisses, pushes after pushes, growing even more unfair and demanding as time goes by. Chanyeol was fully Baekhyun’s-he himself was the price he was so willing to pay. Baekhyun had stopped being Chanyeol’s for months-elusive, sharp, always getting whatever he wanted without paying the fair price.
Chanyeol writhed under Baekhyun, mind clouded but not thoroughly into it. Baekhyun was always an amazing fucker, using all the tricks in the book, utilizing all of Chanyeol’s spots, luring Chanyeol into submission without a second thought.
Baekhyun came while biting Chanyeol’s ear, Chanyeol giving a long moan in return. It was warm and welcoming, Baekhyun’s come. It was the only moment that Chanyeol could feel that Baekhyun was also his again. Baekhyun pulled out of him and panted harshly over him as he regained his senses.
Baekhyun was a quick relieving type of person. He took only a moment to get his power back and kiss Chanyeol into another round, just an encore quickie, ignoring the fact that he hadn’t let Chanyeol come at all. Chanyeol was a strong holder; he would always try his best to never, ever come before Baekhyun-and he could make his body do that.
Chanyeol was all Baekhyun’s, but Baekhyun was never Chanyeol’s.
Baekhyun pulled away after coming again, and left Chanyeol alone to clean in the bathroom not long after. When the bathroom door clicked close, Chanyeol sighed somehow, and faced sideways so he could finally finish himself. It more than hurts holding it for so long, he thought, as he slid his hand very quickly on his slick manhood. He should finish before Baekhyun comes out of the bathroom, so he prays to his body to make it quick, because he couldn’t stand it anymore.
He cried from the bottom of his lungs, the come staining the innocent blue wall. He voiced another deep grunt, waiting for all of it to spew out. He wasn’t paying attention when the bathroom door opened and Baekhyun climbed up the bed, and softly hugged him from behind by the shoulders, as if they loved each other, as if nothing ever happened. He kissed the nape of Chanyeol’s neck, Chanyeol’s hand still staying there, waiting Baekhyun to shift before he dared moving.
When Chanyeol woke up the following morning, Baekhyun was on his own side of the bed, back against him. Chanyeol carefully, slowly stood up, and started his painful, tacky way to the dresser to take something to wear before cleaning himself in the bathroom, his hole hurting pretty bad.
Chanyeol walked slowly out the bathroom to the kitchen, kindly making coffee and sandwich for the both of them. He took one mug to the room and caressed Baekhyun’s head, smoothing down his hair. The smell of the coffee was enough to wake Baekhyun up.
Baekhyun’s eyes flickered sleepily. He slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes before thanking Chanyeol with a mumble, staring earnestly. Chanyeol kissed the top of his head and left to have his coffee alone in the kitchen.
***
Baekhyun never believed in love at first sight, but that’s what had happened with him on Chanyeol when he saw him at the hallway back in high school. He was a chaser-he wanted Chanyeol, so he made really tiring advances on this really dense Dumbo for two whole years, before finally coaxing a mutual friend to coax Chanyeol to confess to him. Baekhyun’s approaches toward Chanyeol were playful instead of naughty-Chanyeol was notorious for being that innocent guy, so Baekhyun had to play it that way. Chanyeol himself didn’t know whether the feelings were mutual or made up in gratitude as he finally gave them a shot.
Now that time had given Baekhyun a teensy bit of common sense, he just wanted to laugh at himself.
Chanyeol liked playing with bugs, ferrets, wooden sticks-things that just weren’t his size or age anymore. Baekhyun had thought he would slap some maturity in this boy and make him finally eighteen, but it was either he failed, or he just needed one more try. Baekhyun realized that maybe this was just all a tiring game and he should quit and get a better life-he wasn’t getting anything anyway.
Just when he had thought so, on their way home from a date after school, Chanyeol had dragged him to an alley and kissed him senseless, just as a proof.
***
“I…” Baekhyun started, sitting on his side of the bed. He usually never stuttered. The room was dark, lit with only a tinge of yellow from the bedside lamp. Chanyeol looked up to him, but Baekhyun kept staring at his own fingers on his lap.
“I’ve been wanting to break up with you since last year,” he said.
Chanyeol scoffed and looked up to the ceiling. Baekhyun had said it a bajillion times before.
“Are you okay with that?” Baekhyun asked again.
Chanyeol breathed. He did not want to answer.
“Chanyeol.”
Baekhyun sighed.
“Chanyeol, I was asking.”
Baekhyun gave up and looked to the desk ahead of him. The clock ticked too loudly.
“I tried to make it up for you,” Chanyeol whispered to the ceiling.
Baekhyun sighed. “You never knew how. You never answered me, so I decided that I could answer things myself. I stopped asking you permission. I stopped telling. I stopped asking you for anything.”
“I gave back to you,” Chanyeol replied.
“That’s-“ Baekhyun knew that the dialog would be tiring. Dialogs with Chanyeol were always tiring.
It was silent again.
Baekhyun decided to turn his back away and go to sleep. Chanyeol looked at the ceiling, asking the lightbulb if maybe they weren’t meant for each other after all.
When Chanyeol woke up, he had the bedroom to himself.
***
Chanyeol was wrong when he thought Baekhyun would come back. He learned that there were only half the contents of his dresser, and half the contents of the shoe rack, yet it didn’t feel as painful as the heartbreaks people make stories of in songs and on TV. Chanyeol didn’t call Baekhyun, because he didn’t know what to say-he did once and hung up, and never called again.
But it would be a full-fledged lie to say that Chanyeol was okay. Chanyeol had a hard time sleeping, Chanyeol wasn’t focused, Chanyeol fell sick. It was so bad that it was physiological: he got a pretty bad fever on the ninth day and wasn’t getting better, even though he’d been breaking fever sweat the whole time.
Chanyeol did get better, two days later. The whole time self medicating, he finally realized that Baekhyun was that big and influential in his life. He spent time thinking, sometimes crying so bad at why he had never paid attention.
The doorbell rang.
Chanyeol shot up from his fetal position under his blanket and raced for the door, in hopes that it would be Baekhyun wanting to come back or whatever as long as it’s Baekhyun.
To his delight, it was Baekhyun. Chanyeol saw a bone-breaking hug and a true, longing-brimmed kiss, but,
“I need to take the rest of my stuff. Sort of,” said Baekhyun with a blank face.
Chanyeol had to step aside and let Baekhyun in. He closed the door, asking, “Where did you put the rest of your clothes?”
“Home.”
Baekhyun walked to their-his-Chanyeol’s-room and stood in front of their-Chanyeol’s-dresser, waiting for permission to open it. Chanyeol stood by the bedroom door, wanting to sigh but he didn’t.
“Is it appropriate if I say that I’m sorry?” Chanyeol asked, still leaning to the doorframe.
Baekhyun turned his face to him, then turned his face back to the top of the dresser.
“Don’t you want to stay?” he asked again, still leaning to the doorframe. Baekhyun also remained in his position.
“Don’t you like being here with me?” Chanyeol continued. He didn’t mind at all sounding that desperate.
Baekhyun moved to the desk, and sat down. Chanyeol entered the room and sat with legs crossed on the bed.
“I like you, really,” Baekhyun started, “But we don’t click. We don’t care about each other. You always complain, I always leave. We burden each other. Don’t you realize that?”
“You’re not… a burden…”
Baekhyun scoffed. “As if, Chanyeol.” He shifted and leaned on the seat’s back, sitting backwards facing Chanyeol. Chanyeol reserved to picking at the bedsheet silently.
“But,” Baekhyun started, very carefully, “Don’t you have this feeling that I was… kind of… you know, made for you?”
Chanyeol looked up to Baekhyun for a while, but then resumed his reverie. Baekhyun continued, just so the silence won’t grow any further. “Because I do.”
The clock kept ticking, slowly, in time with their contemplative breaths.
“That was actually why I asked you back.” Chanyeol said, still picking on the bedsheet.
The clock ticked on.
Chanyeol moved from his place and opened the dresser, carefully picking Baekhyun’s smaller clothes and pants. “You can leave, though.”
Baekhyun watched as Chanyeol sorted and took everything in the dresser that was not his. Chanyeol wasn’t kicking him out, he was doing a favor. Chanyeol stacked the clothes, pants, and underwear, and handed them to Baekhyun on the desk. Chanyeol gave a friendly smile.
“Fate will decide. We’ll just be with each other again someday if that’s how it’s supposed to be. I guess that’s what you always told me.”
Baekhyun accepted the stack of clothes and followed Chanyeol out the bedroom. Chanyeol took whatever was Baekhyun’s along the way.“Thanks, though,” Baekhyun said, as he shuffled for his shoes. He opened his arms wide for a farewell hug, and went out of the house waving to Chanyeol, with a good smile in good terms for good.
…except that ‘good’ ended three years later, when they bumped into each other in a high school friend’s bachelor party. J