Transitory Passcodes [1/2]
Title: Transitory Passcodes
Author: Anonymous until 1/30/14
For: ofolivesnginger
Pairing: Baekhyun/Chanyeol, Baekhyun/Kai [side: Kai/Luhan]
Word Count: 14,836
Summary: The impure are for the impure, the good are for the good, and Baekhyun lies exactly in between.
Warnings: Language, references to sex and violence
Rating: PG-13
One
The sound and smell of hissing food were the first greetings Baekhyun received as he stepped foot into his apartment. His exhausted heart warmed upon the wafting aroma, because it meant Chanyeol was finally back home after being gone for so long. “Welcome back,” he heard Chanyeol’s voice through the hissing food. Baekhyun smiled weakly as he toed off his black leather shoes before stepping in.
He went to the living room to undo his suffocating tie and put his bag on the couch before heading to the kitchen. “Hi,” Baekhyun replied blandly, still being tired from work. He stood by Chanyeol to take a glass, sighing, before stepping to fill it at the water dispenser opposite of them.
“I didn’t work overtime tonight, so I guess I had the time to make real dinner,” Chanyeol spoke as he poured his green and inviting sauteed vegetables to a serving plate by the stove. Baekhyun eyed the table while sipping from the glass and dragging his seat, amazed that Chanyeol managed to make a full-fledged dinner with three side dishes, all by himself. “How was work?”
Baekhyun drank up his glass of water and set the empty cup on the table. “Messy.”
Chanyeol approached while juggling plates of kimchi and vegetables, looking up to Baekhyun and smiling slightly in response because he was too focused on preparing the table to give a proper answer. Baekhyun used his remaining courtesy to take the chopsticks and bowls of rice for Chanyeol, and Chanyeol went back to the counter to take the bukeoguk from the microwave. “How messy?” he asked from his place.
“It’s-“ The bowls and chopsticks clanked as Baekhyun put them harshly on the table. “-ugh. Can you actually understand when people think they always can rely on you and you can’t ask them for help because they think they’re busier than you?” Chanyeol brought the bowl of bukeoguk and made Baekhyun sit down as he continued his ranting while Chanyeol continued arranging the plates before finally sitting down across him. “Everyone in my unit are such assholes, I can’t believe I can actually survive in that excuse of an office.”
“Eat,” Chanyeol reminded softly from his seat, holding his empty chopsticks in the air. And yes, he could actually understand being in Baekhyun's shoes because Baekhyun was the one who was always so caught up in his own thing, always so full of himself.
“Thanks for the meal,” he begun, although still a bit bitter.
“Dig in,” Chanyeol smiled thin and followed.
"This is really good," Baekhyun praised. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Chanyeol muttered. They resumed eating silently.
“I miss having dinners with you like this.” Chanyeol said after a few bites. His words died out and lingered light, like the distant smell of mint cigarettes cold by the air. People had always said that Chanyeol was too good a man to lie, but Baekhyun couldn’t make himself believe them.
“Where have you been? I haven't seen you in a while.” Baekhyun asked.
“Places. Like you.” Chanyeol said.
Baekhyun popped one slice of beef into his mouth. As much as he wanted to open conversations, he realized that he couldn’t ask anything interesting anymore. Most questions would only end up with Chanyeol complaining to no end about his life, further irking him on the bad night. Chanyeol took another piece of vegetable. They ate in silence.
“I’ll wash the dishes,” Baekhyun volunteered, seeing that their plates were emptying soon.
They finished the food not long after and put their dishes in the sink.
“Alright,” Chanyeol closed the sink tap and stole a kiss from Baekhyun’s thin lips. “I’ll throw the garbage.”
Chanyeol tied their trashbag and left the apartment, saying, “I’ll be right back.”
“Alright,” Baekhyun responded as the door clicked close, and he sighed with a smile as he rinsed through. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad living another decade, or at least a few years of this. He put all the clean dishes in the shelf to drip and dry, took his bag and tie, and left for the bedroom.
Baekhyun felt as if he was trespassing into his own bedroom when he saw that the light was on and Chanyeol’s big suitcase was sitting by the bed. The room lost almost all its contents by half, leaving a comparably empty space that his voice could echo in. Baekhyun’s heart crawled and tingled as he looked around in disbelief. He could see dust prints in place of the stuff that used to be.
Being the messy and forgetful person he was, Chanyeol left his phone and most personal tidbits by the bed near the suitcase. Baekhyun looked down at the colorful keychains, pocket books, and mini plushies before taking Chanyeol’s phone, an adorable cowbell keychain tinkling when he lifted it. He sat on the bed and looked to the bedroom door as if Chanyeol would barge in, and only after that he swiped the lock screen open.
It didn’t take long for Baekhyun to peer into the contents of the littered status bar. He clicked the latest IM message, an angry sounding, “Ya, are you actually coming?”, and the phone took him to a conversation he knew must have existed somewhere, somehow.
Park Chanyeol
15:37 Hyung
Park Chanyeol
15:37 I mean it
Park Chanyeol
15:38 I swear to god I just want to leave.
Lu Han
Well... It’s all your choice 15:39
Baekhyun took a quick look at the boy’s picture: a blessedly youthful man, with pointy nose and thick, golden hair, scrunching his face for the camera just to show the world that he would always look good regardless. Baekhyun took himself back to the conversation thread.
Lu Han
Well... It’s all your choice 15:39
Lu Han
Leave if you want 15:39
Park Chanyeol
15:41 I’ll come over ok?
Park Chanyeol
15:41 So I can kiss you like that
Park Chanyeol
15:41 :***********
Lu Han
Chanyeola 18:57
Lu Han
I have cookies for you. Just in case k k k 18:57
Before he knew it, Baekhyun was grasping the phone too hard in his hands, the bubbling in his chest too hard to ignore.
Lu Han
Ya, are you actually coming? 20:34
Baekhyun’s stomach stirred with contempt. He read about Chanyeol’s decision to leave, hence the empty bedroom, and learned that Chanyeol actually wanted to leave right after dinner. But this Lu Han wanted him to bid Baekhyun a proper goodbye-which of course, Chanyeol opposed profusely. He scrolled further, further, to see pictures of Chanyeol always posing too close, too warm, with the golden-haired sweet juvenile. Baekhyun read as Chanyeol spewed all his complaints about Baekhyun never being there, about how much he wanted to live with Lu Han instead, asking every so often, “Hyung, should I just break up?”
A teardrop stained the tall screen.
“Oh fuck,” Baekhyun muttered, hurriedly wiping the stain with a thumb, because dried tears on the phone screen would leave ugly marks. He pressed his stinging eyes into the ball of his hands because he did not want to cry.
The main door busted open and slammed close, and Baekhyun could feel Chanyeol’s footsteps thudding closer as he ran to the bedroom. Baekhyun straightened up like a fastened nut and tried to hide everything in vain.
“Baekhyun ah-“ Chanyeol panted, “I forgot my phone.” He leaned his weight by the door; panting, clothes crumpled everywhere, messy hair pulled back in any rush attempt of hand-combing. From his place by the door Chanyeol could see Baekhyun sitting by his packed suitcase holding his still lit phone in jittery hands, and he knew that very minute he was fucked.
Chanyeol panted, exhaustedly, but he was so good at self-composing that he could muster taking a deep breath and walking towards Baekhyun calmly, asking, “Can I have my phone?”
Baekhyun turned off the screen and handed Chanyeol the phone facing down without a word. “Are you going somewhere again?” Baekhyun asked, as if only referring to the suitcase.
“I-“ Chanyeol panted, still catching his breath. He sighed and kneeled to level his eyes with Baekhyun’s, arms leaned to put his weight on Baekhyun’s lap.
“You could have told me,” Baekhyun said.
“I’ll tell you in a bit, okay? I'm just not done outside.”
“Aren’t you just throwing garbage?” Baekhyun asked, thick with implication. He softly carded his fingers through Chanyeol’s hair, tucking odd fringes here and there. Chanyeol smelt of someone else, of lukewarm new love and promises whispered down the neck. Baekhyun noticed a golden strand of hair on Chanyeol’s shoulder and he picked it, both their eyes growing wide in realization.
Baekhyun stood up in anger.
“Whose hair is this.”
“What?! How did that even get there?”
“How would I know. You ask yourself.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Chanyeol retorted, although his eyes spoke of denial and fear.
“Yes, you do. You do know who this belongs to. We both know who this piece of hair belongs to.”
Chanyeol’s eyes suddenly widened in realization and filled with anger before he batted away Baekhyun’s hand. “What were you doing with my phone?”
“Well what were you doing outside! Coming home a mess and smelling sweeter than when you left? Where were you!”
“You were never there, Baekhyun.”
“Then where were you! Fucking your little hyung’s face?” Baekhyun watched as Chanyeol’s face turned stern and red in a second, and Baekhyun couldn’t help but scoff. “I can’t fucking believe you.”
Chanyeol stared at the corner of the room with gritted teeth, brimming with shame and anger. He broke out of the debate and bent to take his wallet, keys, and suitcase. Baekhyun’s eyes started to fill with tears as he watched. “I’ve had enough of you,” Chanyeol said, low enough to be a whisper.
“And why is that?” Baekhyun asked, not wanting his voice to shake.
“Because you were so caught up in your own life and you never take me seriously.”
Baekhyun stopped.
“Is that enough explanation for you?”
The room was filled with the whirring of the heater, the sound of their distant breaths. Chanyeol busied himself picking up the stuff he hadn’t taken yet. It started sinking in to Baekhyun that Chanyeol might be right. He might just be too proud after all.
"Then," Baekhyun started. His thumbs fidgeted idly on the edges of his fingernails. "What does he have over me?"
Chanyeol turned his head at the question but immediately continued rummaging, mouth shut. Baekhyun did not need any answers. Chanyeol dragged his stuff out of the room and wore the shoes he wore downstairs, not bothering to carry any more load.
Their relationship closed with a thud.
÷
Living alone turned out harder than Baekhyun had imagined, because his heated fleece still was not Chanyeol’s body on his back. He became a touchier person around people, an even more eager person than what he was already-the belt-dragger in all parties. Baekhyun tried going on with his life, looking professional and indifferent in the office and being a shameless animal on Friday nights.
He woke up one Sunday morning to nothing but dry scum on his bed, not even knowing to which face it belonged. He tried to sit only to feel his whole body tense and pulling, head pounding and throat dry. Baekhyun grunted sleepily, bare skin touching cold air and pretty pointers rubbing his eyes awake. He hated to and he did not want to, but he had to take a shower and clean his sheets and be on work mode, because it was a Sunday and he had stupidly brought work home for the weekend.
He walked lazily to his dresser, still feeling like a wreck, taking a white undershirt and boxers before heading to the bathroom to take his hangover pill and a good, sane shower. He entered the glass-doored shower stall and lathered shampoo onto his hair. At least the pouring water knocked some sense into him, telling him he should really stop going around fucking strangers if he wanted his life back. He rinsed and left the shower stall, wiping himself clean and dry.
Baekhyun dressed and left the bathroom with half dry hair. This big mess of a bedroom greeted him, not wanting to be tidied but they had to be. He took a look at the stack of envelopes and shiny magazine paper and was grateful that he could throw away Chanyeol’s bills and subscriptions, because they really were littering the room and Chanyeol never came back to take anything.
Eventually he only ended up throwing half of Chanyeol’s remaining stuff and kept all the printed pictures, because his heart was still there with them. But, being the good person he was, he pledged to give back Chanyeol’s stuff, just in case Chanyeol would need it somewhere in the future.
He checked all of the papers he was about to throw, just to make sure that he wouldn’t throw anything important, and stopped carding through when he saw a flyer for some Hawaii trip packages, and that moment, he knew exactly that what he needed was a vacation, although he wouldn’t be going to Hawaii with this kind of money anytime soon. But he could drive somewhere close and sleep in a mountainside lodge or bask in the sun on the beach. His whole face brightened up with inspiration. He could forget all his worries and come back new.
That was how Baekhyun managed to do his work in record time on a lazy Sunday night, rushing with the incentive of having a break from his confusing life and starting anew. He spent the new week working overtime and denying his utmost wish to hit the club again, being so busy that he hadn’t had the time to give Chanyeol’s stuff back even if he wanted to. He went up to arrange his much needed vacation on a Thursday when things finally turned down. He thought that spending the weekend on the mountainside would be the best idea to really unwind and stop running away.
As soon as the clock struck five on Friday, Baekhyun zoomed out of the office despite his staring coworkers. He went to claim the car he rented, booked a small mountainside lodge with a balcony, and rechecked all the items he wanted to take along. He left his apartment at four in the morning to get the most of his precious mountainside weekend, driving northbound, exiting the city in half an hour and the suburbs in one. He couldn't wait to just sit down on the porch and drink hot chocolate at his cozy little lodge.
The sun was rising shyly behind the mountains over paddy fields as he drove through, like the scenery he used to draw in kindergarten. He took a deep, grateful breath and kept going, until he saw a body lying there on the side of the vacant road.
He pulled over, murmuring in utter surprise under his breath.
Baekhyun knelt beside the unfortunate man although he could barely see anything, the man's jeans soaked purple with blood and his skin marred with dew, dirt and shallow scratches.
"Help," the man croaked. Baekhyun looked up to the man's face and was surprised to see a pale and blue Chanyeol staring back at him.
“Oh gosh,” Baekhyun moved closer. “What happened to you?”
“I-“ Chanyeol tried to sit to converse better with Baekhyun, but cried out in pain. Baekhyun held him down to calm him.
"Where are you hurt?"
Chanyeol moved his hand to his left leg and Baekhyun could see a rip on Chanyeol's jeans. With some basic knowledge he got from his time in military service, Baekhyun lifted Chanyeol and laid him in the back seat. Chanyeol groaned and cried, his pants scratching against the deep wound on his thigh each time. “I'll take you to the hospital, okay? If you feel sleepy, just, just remember to stay awake.”
Baekhyun was more than grateful that the rental had leather seats, or else the blood would’ve seeped everywhere. He turned around and headed back to find the nearest hospital possible, only remembering after halfway the trip that he should have tied something tight around the wound to slow the bleeding. He called, “Chanyeol,” looking at the mirror. “Chanyeol.”
Silence.
“Oh fuck,” he whispered. Chanyeol must’ve passed out and the seat cover must’ve been bathed in blood by now. He stepped on the pedal as deep as he could, splitting the empty road in half. Baekhyun listened to his GPS for the closest hospital as soon as he was inside the city boundaries. He turned and turned, restless and worried that Chanyeol would bleed dry. With a big sigh he finally entered a hospital and pulled over, running to the Emergency Unit and practically forcing the nurse to listen to him.
The Emergency Unit door flung shut and its status light blinked to life.
Baekhyun sighed. He sat down on one of the waiting seats and checked his phone, but there was nothing for him. He looked up to the ER again, still worried about Chanyeol's well-being. Baekhyun expected something when two nurses went out of the room, but they quickly walked away. Baekhyun sighed again.
"Mr. Park Chanyeol?" a nurse asked to everyone in the hallway over a good hour later. Baekhyun stood up with expectation for any news.
"Mr. Park Chanyeol?" She walked towards Baekhyun to repeat and confirm.
"Yes," Baekhyun answered firmly.
The nurse gave him Chanyeol’s wallet, took him to the payment counter and handed him all the papers he needed to fill.
"How are you related to Mr. Park, Sir?" the desk lady asked, as if there was no column about it in the form.
"We are not related," he said. The woman nodded and looked back at the paper. Baekhyun tapped his fingers on the marble counter.
"Do you know him personally?" she asked again.
Baekhyun's fingers crawled and held to the countertop pen just to have something to hold on to. His pointer drew fingerprint lines along one of its sides.
"No."
It was so that the hospital would not think that he was the one who wounded Chanyeol, he said to himself.
“We found that Mr. Park Chanyeol is enrolled in an insurance program, but it will not provide coverage for the blood bags and medications.”
“I can take financial responsibility,” Baekhyun said. “Just-don’t let him think about it,” he smiled before fishing a credit card from his wallet and sliding it to the desk lady. As she swiped his card, his heart twisted and his smile faded. With the expenses he made for his small break, plus whatever the total Chanyeol’s bill would be, he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to sustain himself for the rest of the month.
He went to Chanyeol's newly assigned room and went to see the man sleeping soundly on the white bed, who looked alright save for his pale skin and dry lips. He must've been drained out, sustained alive by the blood and infusion bags hanging on the pole by the bed. A nurse came in to put Chanyeol's freshly cleaned clothes, folded and stacked neatly on the bedside table.
Baekhyun looked down to Chanyeol's thick, black and worn wallet in his hand and flipped it open. The first thing he saw was a Polaroid of Chanyeol and Luhan kissing, and Baekhyun smiled at the tinge of pain. He slowly, curiously put his fingers behind the picture pocket and took all the pictures and cards out. There were two more pictures of Chanyeol and Luhan, a business card, a crumpled receipt, and a few movie ticket stubs, all of which were-curiously-the titles he and Chanyeol had gone to together. Baekhyun flicked through the tickets, title by title, and smiled at the flashes of silly memories.
Baekhyun's smile faded as he flicked on to the last piece of paper in the pile. A picture of himself holding noodles to his mouth. He remembered Chanyeol taking that picture on the phone, way back when they were still in college. Baekhyun could understand Chanyeol keeping the ticket stubs, but not a picture of him. He looked up to Chanyeol, looked at his picture in the wallet, and put the wallet on top of the pile of clothes.
"Ow," Chanyeol croaked unconsciously.
Baekhyun walked closer and watched Chanyeol slowly wake up.
“Hi,” said Chanyeol with a sheepish smile. "Ow." The ether was wearing off.
Baekhyun waited until he was sure Chanyeol was okay, hands on the bed railing instead of Chanyeol’s hands. “What happened to you?”
Chanyeol chuckled as if something was so funny. He shook his head. “Nothing. Just, pretty horrible stuff."
“Like, you couldn’t be just walking up there, it’s a mountain route.”
“I…” Chanyeol started, but couldn’t find a word for it. Baekhyun waited for his answer. “I-I got mugged, long story short.” Chanyeol smiled thin. “He got my car, tore my leg in the process.”
Baekhyun looked at Chanyeol with wide eyes and his mind filled with all the questions he could ask, but he knew it wasn’t the best time to. He moved his gaze to the small pipes on the back of Chanyeol’s hand. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” Chanyeol laughed. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”
“Do you remember the guy’s face? I can help you report to the police.”
Chanyeol shook his head. “Don’t bother. I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, smiling again.
Baekhyun ended up sleeping on Chanyeol’s hospital couch for the weekend, although keeping minimum contact with Chanyeol. Chanyeol was given crutches to walk with and was released on Sunday, at the same time Baekhyun needed to leave to prepare for work tomorrow. Chanyeol stopped Baekhyun from walking to the parking lot.
“Can I spend a night at,” Chanyeol gulped, adding a hard letter to the possessive, “your place?”
Baekhyun looked at him and knew what he was trying to say. “Tomorrow’s a Monday, Chanyeol.”
“I’ll make you dinner. No, a full whole meal. To repay for all your help. Please.” Chanyeol pleaded with eyes so wide, hands gripping the crutches so hard in excitement. “Just this once?”
“Chanyeol, don’t,” Baekhyun pleaded back. “I don’t want you to talk me into trying again.” He started walking, slowly, waiting for Chanyeol to come with. “I’ll take you home to your mom, then I’ll get this car back and-oh. I still have your stuff." Chanyeol's eyes lit brightly. "I’ll give you the box and drive you home.”
As much as Chanyeol wanted to retaliate he didn’t because as always, Baekhyun was the one in charge. They got into the car and drove to Baekhyun’s flat. Their old flat. Chanyeol looked up the levels with pain, because his life still revolved around this building even after Baekhyun. His secret lover at the time of breakup, Luhan, was a neighbor downstairs and Chanyeol still lived in the same building after leaving Baekhyun, just on a different level in a different apartment with a different person.
They got into the apartment and Baekhyun offered him a glass of water. Baekhyun ran to his room-their room, Chanyeol would say-to take a properly lidded cardboard box and bring it to the car. “Here’s your stuff: bills, clothes, pictures and all.”
Chanyeol looked down to the box and looked at Baekhyun, then the TV, and the rug. “Baekhyun-ah.”
“Hm?”
“It was my boyfriend who took the car,” Chanyeol admitted, almost whispering. His grip tightened on the cardboard box. Baekhyun wanted to believe he’d just heard the wrong thing. “I just can’t help but see how much of a fool I am now.”
“No,” Baekhyun’s eyes widened.
“Yes. That’s what happened.”
“Come on,” Baekhyun took the box for Chanyeol and tugged his wrist, not wanting to hold his hands. “Tell me where he lives and maybe we can get him.”
“No you can’t, he must’ve left by now.”
“So what? Take me there, and maybe we can find out where he is. I know you have the key code. Barge in.”
With wide eyes at Baekhyun’s boldness, Chanyeol led them to the place he ran to on the night they broke up, and when he opened the door, the space all looked the same. He was actually surprised at how Luhan didn’t change the key code for him.
“Hyung,” he called. “Dear?”
Chanyeol walked to the bedroom and opened the dresser to see only his clothes were left. Baekhyun’s heart trembled as he watched and followed, as if watching the night Chanyeol left from a witness’ point of view. Nothing was there. Whatever turmoil raging in Chanyeol’s heart was resonating in Baekhyun’s heart and Baekhyun could feel it, too. Chanyeol looked slowly at the empty desk, and the silver cat on the barren bedside table, then walked to the bed where a note sat on the pillow. Chanyeol silently picked up the note and turned around carefully, and Baekhyun immediately scrambled to assist Chanyeol to sit down on the bed. Baekhyun remained by Chanyeol’s side as Chanyeol read through.
Chanyeol had his head down, fingers fidgeting slowly on his lap and balling into a weak fist as soon as he finished reading. Chanyeol looked up to Baekhyun and Baekhyun was surprised to see tears hanging in Chanyeol’s eyes. Chanyeol had never cried before him. His bleary eyes charged with even more tears when they met Baekhyun’s questioning gaze. Chanyeol automatically dipped his head, not wanting Baekhyun to see him fall weak and cry.
“Chanyeol.” Baekhyun called with a note of surprise. “Chanyeol, what happened?”
Baekhyun did not earn an answer. Chanyeol hid his face and was still trying his best not to shake or let out a sound.
“Chanyeol?”
Chanyeol shook his head and he suddenly couldn’t help but cry harder, whispering, “I’m sorry,” breath hiccupping. “I’m so sorry.” Baekhyun kneeled and leveled his eyes with Chanyeol’s to try to understand what was happening, ask Chanyeol what he was endlessly apologizing for, but Chanyeol would never answer. He would rub Chanyeol’s knees to calm him down, but who was he to do that now.
Chanyeol’s reluctance made him give up. The note caught Baekhyun’s eye and he reached to take it and see for himself. He learned that it was Luhan’s neatly handwritten message, addressing Chanyeol with a note very blunt, but very vague at the same time.
We’re both bad enough to deserve this, sooner or later.
÷
Fate sure did have a dark sense of humor. Baekhyun tore himself from that room while Chanyeol couldn’t bring himself to stop Baekhyun from running. Chanyeol stayed there crying on the bed, Baekhyun unable to handle the thought of remaining in the same space to only regret their separation. Baekhyun couldn’t make himself stay by Chanyeol’s side and watch him cry over his mistake of cheating on him. He immediately ran to his apartment to escape whatever emotional hellhole that room was and closed the door behind his back, but as soon as he saw his own apartment, all he saw was him and Chanyeol and he eventually cried himself.
Baekhyun couldn’t possibly understand what Luhan was trying to mean with the note after going so far and physically hurting Chanyeol. Luhan was a stranger after all and he couldn’t be doing this to avenge Baekhyun. Chanyeol wasn’t that bad a person to have all of this happening to him. Baekhyun eventually wondered what Chanyeol had gotten himself into after he had left. It got to him, and he regretted, so very deeply, his blowing up in anger on Chanyeol, because this wouldn’t have happened if they, if he, had held on.
÷
Baekhyun woke up with puffy eyes the following morning, but he had to drag himself to work. The cold and relentless wind bit his hollow cheeks as soon as he left his apartment building. He sleepwalked to the station and spent the whole subway ride dragging on his feet.
He was slugging through his work and he really couldn’t put his mind on the screen. By lunch break, he wasn’t even hungry, but he knew he had to eat before acid could strike him again. He took a ham sandwich and a can of mocha from the convenience store on the other corner of the block, and when he took his wallet to pay, it wasn’t in his pocket.
His eyes grew wide. He remembered putting his wallet on his cubicle after going to the toilet and cursed himself.
He patted all his pockets for any bill or card he might have kept, but there was nothing. The line was getting long and he hated making anyone wait. The storekeeper scowled.
“I’ll pay,” the person behind said, a bottle of Calpis and almonds taking seats beside Baekhyun’s ham and mocha. The cashier immediately scanned the Calpis and almonds before grudgingly taking Baekhyun’s sandwich and coffee. She didn’t even care enough to mention the meager total, only rotating the screen to align with the kind man’s sight.
The kind man fished out his credit card and slid the sandwich and mocha towards Baekhyun with a sincere smile as soon as the transaction was completed. He stood a few inches taller than Baekhyun but he looked so young, as young as his choice of almonds and Calpis, too young to be hanging around this side of town in a suit buying lunch.
“Thank you very much. Thank you very, very much. Tell me how I can pay you back,” Baekhyun said as soon as they were outside, nodding and bowing profusely on his little running feet trying to catch up with the kind man’s long strides. The kind man scoffed at Baekhyun’s overwhelming gratitude, although it came out looking like a shy smile as he lowered his head to watch his steps. Baekhyun tried looking for affirmation the kind man’s eyes from his place in the bustling crowd. “I’m serious.”
The kind man opened his bottle of Calpis and took a gulp before he turned his head to Baekhyun. Baekhyun’s eyes widened with an idea popping into his mind. “Or do you want me to treat you right after office?” Baekhyun asked excitedly. “Please? Anything, just so I don’t feel too guilty over it.”
The kind man stopped by the main entrance to a neighboring office, presumably his, smiling. Other employees passed by chatting with each other holding their to-go paper bags from nearby cafes. “Really, don’t worry about it. It was nice meeting you,” he said, then he entered his office complex, leaving Baekhyun to trove his way back alone.
Baekhyun watched as the kind man walked away and slowly disappear, cheerfully talking to a coworker that had said hi. Baekhyun looked at his lunch and shrugged gratefully before starting his way back, not knowing that the person saved him a glance when he left the office complex. Baekhyun looked at his sandwich and mocha and smiled. He couldn’t be complaining for a free lunch after all.
÷
Baekhyun took the subway home at eight o’clock later that night, still fuzzy and confused about his surprise lunch treat. When he returned to work with zero expectations the next morning, an email and a following Outlook note popped up on his screen telling him that he had to attend a joint conference later in the afternoon. He sighed. Now he was 100% sure life was done playing with him. Baekhyun shrugged and closed the popup to continue working on his current document until lunch.
When Baekhyun was back from his lunch at the same old basement cafeteria, he took the necessary printed documents, his laptop, and everything else he needed before heading to the meeting room. He always liked preparing for a meeting, often being the one to arrive first and even helping with the coffee, despite the newer recruits politely declining him stealing their jobs. When he was done, he continued his small talk with the boy he was helping today, Minseok, still enjoying the company.
The both of them went and left the room, and Baekhyun knew joined his coworkers to enter the meeting room, followed by their immediate superior with five visitors. Baekhyun and his friends found their seats around the table and bowed to their boss and guests, and when Baekhyun lifted his face, his eyes lit in surprise seeing the kind man from yesterday standing across him. They shot each other subtle looks of acknowledgement, the, “What the hell are you doing here?!” gaze.
Baekhyun learned that his name was Kim Jongin, the drafter for their companies’ joint project. Baekhyun treated Jongin to coffee after five as his payback for the other day. Jongin’s body language exuded aptness and confidence, shown from his fingers that never trembled nor hid under the table; yet the man seemed very reserved, a smile being his closest to laughing.
What Baekhyun did not learn about Kim Jongin was that Jongin’s sole purpose in Seoul was to attend the joint meetings. As soon as the project was deemed complete by both parties, Jongin would be sent back to his current work station on the other side of the country.
The meeting continued at the same place and time, Jongin wittily explaining his ideas on a screen and Baekhyun taking notes to put to calculation later. Jongin would distract Baekhyun by sending funny pictures that weren’t actually funny, and they would exchange short, weird dialogs in secret via work email.
Their encounters were pretty much limited to the meeting, other than the occasional lunch or coffee meetups. Jongin was still equally silent, but he would step up and pay for their coffee when Baekhyun least expected it, and Baekhyun would retort but still accept the treat anyway. With Baekhyun, Jongin’s tightly kept smiles slowly grew into laughter, and with Jongin, Baekhyun felt like he was himself again.
One Tuesday dusk, the sky was thick with clouds, and it had been raining long before five. They waited for the winter rain to go and talked a little bit more in the café, even though they couldn’t even pretend to drink out of their cups anymore. Baekhyun looked at the time and was starting to feel anxious because he had to go home sooner or later. It was almost seven, way stretching it now. Baekhyun looked at the grim sky outside and it was still raining, it didn’t look like it was about to die down anytime soon.
“Don’t you think we should be heading out like, right now?” Baekhyun suggested. “We still have to prepare materials for tomorrow.”
“But it’s raining.” Jongin reasoned. He put his dirtied teaspoon on the saucer. Jongin never told Baekhyun that he wanted to spend as much time with Baekhyun as he could. He never told Baekhyun that he was actually grateful that the rain grounded them together in the café.
Baekhyun suppressed his sigh and exhaled quietly, not wanting to fight it. He took a look at the clock again. “I’ll just leave now.” Jongin looked at Baekhyun, who was packing up and wearing his coats, and decided to mimic his actions. He followed Baekhyun out the café without any hurry, but Baekhyun was walking so fast-
Baekhyun lost footing and would’ve fallen flat on the sidewalk, had it not been for Jongin gripping his arm. Baekhyun gasped and his heartbeat went staccato, whispering, “Thank you,” in a whip of panic. Jongin kept his grip and pulled Baekhyun closer, nudging Baekhyun to start walking as if Baekhyun was under his arrest. The rain was cold on his head and stinging on his face, and his heart kept racing as he walked carefully in his slim leather shoes. They didn’t talk throughout the walk to the subway station, Jongin tugging cautiously when one of them was about to fall.
Baekhyun suppressed his deride when Jongin finally let go of him to take his fare card out. Baekhyun tapped his card, smiling silently at Jongin’s protective gesture, then he waited for Jongin from the other side. They didn’t talk when they waited for their trains, only standing awkwardly beside each other.
Jongin looked up to the speakers as the little arrival jingle played in the air. Jongin turned to Baekhyun and gave a knowing look. It was his train. The speaker gave an automated woman’s babble of the current arrival; please watch your step, Passengers. “Take care,” Jongin said, voice slightly drowned by the speakers, by the soft hiss of the braking train. Jongin ran across the platform towards his car before it could leave him, then he held on to a pole inside and smiled from his new place. The door closed, the train hissed away, and the automated announcer ended her speech. Baekhyun was left to stare at his reflection on the glass door, the water on his head starting to seep cold into his pores. His fingers tremble at the creeping gust of wind that found its way down to the station.
Baekhyun boarded his train and took another careful walk under the freezing rain before he could reach his apartment building. He pressed the elevator button and hugged the messenger bag he used to cover himself so that the water would soak into his coat.
Baekhyun turned on the light to his apartment, took off his coat and shoes, and popped whatever leftover in the fridge into the microwave. He ate and gulped a glass of water before starting on his report for the follow-up meeting tomorrow. It had been a stressful stretch of time, this joint venture, but he was grateful that it was making his hands full.
When Baekhyun woke up, his phone alarm had been ringing twice and was borderline dying, empty red battery bars glaring in his eyes. His throat felt horrible and his head was heavy-of all the time possible it just had to be now. He shot up and took a flash shower, still very upset that he didn’t get to finish the report and had to wake up twenty minutes late.
Baekhyun walked dead out of the apartment, on the subway, and on the way to the office. He drilled through and managed to finish the report in time, dialogs and important ideas on the afternoon meeting mere babbles to his ears. He didn’t even bother looking sharp or replying the worried smileys from Jongin popping on his laptop screen.
Tea @ 5? Jongin asked on the screen.
:(
Are you okay?
Baekhyun couldn’t take it anymore, so he wrote a quick, Shut up I’m trying to listen, before looking at the projector screen, trying his best not to slam his laptop closed.
He managed to go through the rest of the day, although dreaded and slugging, yet he knew that he would have to carry some of his work home and not sleep again tonight because year-end reports were always dreadful. Baekhyun knew he would be good as new with a good night’s sleep but he couldn’t have any, at least until the weekend.
So when Baekhyun was more than grateful that the week was over, he packed and took off immediately. The elevator was jam packed, his head was heavy, and his shoulders were sore as hell. As soon as he got out to the lobby’s marble floor Baekhyun wrapped his scarf around his face to shield himself from the coming cold. The only thing that surprised him was Jongin blocking his way in the crowded lobby shoving a warm flask into his hands.
“I’m sorry,” Jongin said in empathy, turning around to walk with Baekhyun outside Baekhyun’s office.
“What is this?” Baekhyun croaked, muffled from behind the scarf.
“Tea.” Jongin said as they exited the office boundaries.
“Thank you.” Baekhyun looked at Jongin, then at the groceries bag in his hand, as they treaded the sidewalk. “What is that?”
Jongin looked down to his hands to understand what Baekhyun was talking about. “Chicken.”
“Ah.”
Baekhyun let Jongin walk him to the subway station. They scanned their fare cards. Baekhyun immediately lowered the scarf covering his face as soon as they were on the other side. He whined, “I want to go to sleep,” but Jongin didn’t say anything back.
They stopped walking when they reached Baekhyun’s platform door. Jongin put his idle hand in his coat pocket. “You’ll be home soon.” Jongin turned his head to look at Baekhyun. “Do you feel any better now?”
Baekhyun shook his head weakly. The arrival jingle played in the air and Baekhyun’s train came into view.
“Drink my tea,” Jongin said. The platform door slid open and Baekhyun turned his head to Jongin.
“Thanks. See you.” Baekhyun said, and entered the train, but only after he turned around and the doors had closed he learned that Jongin followed him in. “What are you doing here-I mean-you-aren’t you going the other way?”
“But you’re sleepy. I’m just afraid that you’re not gonna be aware and then you’ll slip again.”
Baekhyun sighed, the hot exhale burning and scratching in his throat. “I need to rest, Jongin.”
“Exactly.”
Baekhyun didn’t have the heart to shoo Jongin away, so he let Jongin stand beside him in the crowded train and grip his arm on the icy sidewalk. When Baekhyun got to his building and Jongin didn’t stop following him, Baekhyun had to stop walking to actually stop Jongin.
“You need to go home, Jongin. I need to go to sleep.”
“But I brought chicken.”
“I-“ Baekhyun wiped his hot face with both hands multiple times in utter exasperation. “Alright.” Baekhyun gestured Jongin to come with him. They took the elevator with hands in their own pockets and walked their way to Baekhyun’s door with Baekhyun constantly chanting, “Cold, cold, cold,” two octaves lower than his usual voice. He punched in his key code and mumbled, “I’m home,” to himself. Jongin followed. Baekhyun turned on the lights and made Jongin sit at the dining table while waiting for the room to heat.
“Are you staying over?” Baekhyun called to Jongin from his bedroom.
“Yes, I am.” Jongin yelled back. His fingers rustled nervously on the plastic bag.
Baekhyun came back to the kitchen huddled in a blanket in all his coat and suit-and-tie, holding another blanket he would toss to Jongin. He sat down across Jongin at the dining table and rested his head on his folded arms. “Would you kindly wake me up if I fall asleep?” Baekhyun looked up to look at Jongin. “Thank you.” Baekhyun folded himself into a ball on the chair, head resting on his hands on the table.
Jongin took for himself a glass of water, sipped slowly, and put his glass down on the table. He rested his head on folded arms like Baekhyun did, and stared at the immediately sleeping blob of hair across him. Jongin had been seeing Baekhyun getting worse the past three days now. He silently dragged his chair to the empty space by Baekhyun’s side for a better look.
Baekhyun was sleeping restlessly in his uncomfortable position. His cheek rested on his upper arm because he’d been unconsciously curling inwards in his sleep. Baekhyun was shaking, and Jongin could feel his heart pull at the sight before his eyes. Jongin lifted his hand and hesitantly patted Baekhyun’s fluffy hair dampened by the snow. His hand slid slowly and touched Baekhyun’s skin, and he instantly pulled away. Baekhyun’s skin was too feverishly hot to his fingertips, and Jongin stood up, knowing that he had to do something but not knowing what.
Jongin decided to very carefully, very slowly, scoop Baekhyun off his seat and carry him to his bedroom. He pushed the door to Baekhyun’s room with his shoulder and slowly, carefully put Baekhyun on the bed, pulling a blanket over Baekhyun’s body. He went out of the room to take a glass of water and the fever patches he bought for Baekhyun when he bought chicken. Jongin went back to Baekhyun’s room and peeled a piece, carefully tucking away Baekhyun’s hair before sticking the patch onto Baekhyun’s forehead.
Jongin watched as Baekhyun opened his eyes in surprise. The fever patch must’ve felt freezing on his skin and yanked him out of his sleep. Baekhyun blinked once and looked at Jongin, just alert but not surprised. Baekhyun put his hand on his forehead, where he felt a coarse strip of plastic and a cold hand with fingernails trimmed too deep. Baekhyun took his hand back and let it cling onto the blanket, his breath still burning in his throat. He stirred in the numbness and curled his body, consciousness drifting. He took Jongin’s hand by the bed and let his fever burn on Jongin’s skin, just staring emptily and dragging each long blink of his eyes.
One | Two
Author: Anonymous until 1/30/14
For: ofolivesnginger
Pairing: Baekhyun/Chanyeol, Baekhyun/Kai [side: Kai/Luhan]
Word Count: 14,836
Summary: The impure are for the impure, the good are for the good, and Baekhyun lies exactly in between.
Warnings: Language, references to sex and violence
Rating: PG-13
One
The sound and smell of hissing food were the first greetings Baekhyun received as he stepped foot into his apartment. His exhausted heart warmed upon the wafting aroma, because it meant Chanyeol was finally back home after being gone for so long. “Welcome back,” he heard Chanyeol’s voice through the hissing food. Baekhyun smiled weakly as he toed off his black leather shoes before stepping in.
He went to the living room to undo his suffocating tie and put his bag on the couch before heading to the kitchen. “Hi,” Baekhyun replied blandly, still being tired from work. He stood by Chanyeol to take a glass, sighing, before stepping to fill it at the water dispenser opposite of them.
“I didn’t work overtime tonight, so I guess I had the time to make real dinner,” Chanyeol spoke as he poured his green and inviting sauteed vegetables to a serving plate by the stove. Baekhyun eyed the table while sipping from the glass and dragging his seat, amazed that Chanyeol managed to make a full-fledged dinner with three side dishes, all by himself. “How was work?”
Baekhyun drank up his glass of water and set the empty cup on the table. “Messy.”
Chanyeol approached while juggling plates of kimchi and vegetables, looking up to Baekhyun and smiling slightly in response because he was too focused on preparing the table to give a proper answer. Baekhyun used his remaining courtesy to take the chopsticks and bowls of rice for Chanyeol, and Chanyeol went back to the counter to take the bukeoguk from the microwave. “How messy?” he asked from his place.
“It’s-“ The bowls and chopsticks clanked as Baekhyun put them harshly on the table. “-ugh. Can you actually understand when people think they always can rely on you and you can’t ask them for help because they think they’re busier than you?” Chanyeol brought the bowl of bukeoguk and made Baekhyun sit down as he continued his ranting while Chanyeol continued arranging the plates before finally sitting down across him. “Everyone in my unit are such assholes, I can’t believe I can actually survive in that excuse of an office.”
“Eat,” Chanyeol reminded softly from his seat, holding his empty chopsticks in the air. And yes, he could actually understand being in Baekhyun's shoes because Baekhyun was the one who was always so caught up in his own thing, always so full of himself.
“Thanks for the meal,” he begun, although still a bit bitter.
“Dig in,” Chanyeol smiled thin and followed.
"This is really good," Baekhyun praised. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Chanyeol muttered. They resumed eating silently.
“I miss having dinners with you like this.” Chanyeol said after a few bites. His words died out and lingered light, like the distant smell of mint cigarettes cold by the air. People had always said that Chanyeol was too good a man to lie, but Baekhyun couldn’t make himself believe them.
“Where have you been? I haven't seen you in a while.” Baekhyun asked.
“Places. Like you.” Chanyeol said.
Baekhyun popped one slice of beef into his mouth. As much as he wanted to open conversations, he realized that he couldn’t ask anything interesting anymore. Most questions would only end up with Chanyeol complaining to no end about his life, further irking him on the bad night. Chanyeol took another piece of vegetable. They ate in silence.
“I’ll wash the dishes,” Baekhyun volunteered, seeing that their plates were emptying soon.
They finished the food not long after and put their dishes in the sink.
“Alright,” Chanyeol closed the sink tap and stole a kiss from Baekhyun’s thin lips. “I’ll throw the garbage.”
Chanyeol tied their trashbag and left the apartment, saying, “I’ll be right back.”
“Alright,” Baekhyun responded as the door clicked close, and he sighed with a smile as he rinsed through. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad living another decade, or at least a few years of this. He put all the clean dishes in the shelf to drip and dry, took his bag and tie, and left for the bedroom.
Baekhyun felt as if he was trespassing into his own bedroom when he saw that the light was on and Chanyeol’s big suitcase was sitting by the bed. The room lost almost all its contents by half, leaving a comparably empty space that his voice could echo in. Baekhyun’s heart crawled and tingled as he looked around in disbelief. He could see dust prints in place of the stuff that used to be.
Being the messy and forgetful person he was, Chanyeol left his phone and most personal tidbits by the bed near the suitcase. Baekhyun looked down at the colorful keychains, pocket books, and mini plushies before taking Chanyeol’s phone, an adorable cowbell keychain tinkling when he lifted it. He sat on the bed and looked to the bedroom door as if Chanyeol would barge in, and only after that he swiped the lock screen open.
It didn’t take long for Baekhyun to peer into the contents of the littered status bar. He clicked the latest IM message, an angry sounding, “Ya, are you actually coming?”, and the phone took him to a conversation he knew must have existed somewhere, somehow.
Park Chanyeol
15:37 Hyung
Park Chanyeol
15:37 I mean it
Park Chanyeol
15:38 I swear to god I just want to leave.
Lu Han
Well... It’s all your choice 15:39
Baekhyun took a quick look at the boy’s picture: a blessedly youthful man, with pointy nose and thick, golden hair, scrunching his face for the camera just to show the world that he would always look good regardless. Baekhyun took himself back to the conversation thread.
Lu Han
Well... It’s all your choice 15:39
Lu Han
Leave if you want 15:39
Park Chanyeol
15:41 I’ll come over ok?
Park Chanyeol
15:41 So I can kiss you like that
Park Chanyeol
15:41 :***********
Lu Han
Chanyeola 18:57
Lu Han
I have cookies for you. Just in case k k k 18:57
Before he knew it, Baekhyun was grasping the phone too hard in his hands, the bubbling in his chest too hard to ignore.
Lu Han
Ya, are you actually coming? 20:34
Baekhyun’s stomach stirred with contempt. He read about Chanyeol’s decision to leave, hence the empty bedroom, and learned that Chanyeol actually wanted to leave right after dinner. But this Lu Han wanted him to bid Baekhyun a proper goodbye-which of course, Chanyeol opposed profusely. He scrolled further, further, to see pictures of Chanyeol always posing too close, too warm, with the golden-haired sweet juvenile. Baekhyun read as Chanyeol spewed all his complaints about Baekhyun never being there, about how much he wanted to live with Lu Han instead, asking every so often, “Hyung, should I just break up?”
A teardrop stained the tall screen.
“Oh fuck,” Baekhyun muttered, hurriedly wiping the stain with a thumb, because dried tears on the phone screen would leave ugly marks. He pressed his stinging eyes into the ball of his hands because he did not want to cry.
The main door busted open and slammed close, and Baekhyun could feel Chanyeol’s footsteps thudding closer as he ran to the bedroom. Baekhyun straightened up like a fastened nut and tried to hide everything in vain.
“Baekhyun ah-“ Chanyeol panted, “I forgot my phone.” He leaned his weight by the door; panting, clothes crumpled everywhere, messy hair pulled back in any rush attempt of hand-combing. From his place by the door Chanyeol could see Baekhyun sitting by his packed suitcase holding his still lit phone in jittery hands, and he knew that very minute he was fucked.
Chanyeol panted, exhaustedly, but he was so good at self-composing that he could muster taking a deep breath and walking towards Baekhyun calmly, asking, “Can I have my phone?”
Baekhyun turned off the screen and handed Chanyeol the phone facing down without a word. “Are you going somewhere again?” Baekhyun asked, as if only referring to the suitcase.
“I-“ Chanyeol panted, still catching his breath. He sighed and kneeled to level his eyes with Baekhyun’s, arms leaned to put his weight on Baekhyun’s lap.
“You could have told me,” Baekhyun said.
“I’ll tell you in a bit, okay? I'm just not done outside.”
“Aren’t you just throwing garbage?” Baekhyun asked, thick with implication. He softly carded his fingers through Chanyeol’s hair, tucking odd fringes here and there. Chanyeol smelt of someone else, of lukewarm new love and promises whispered down the neck. Baekhyun noticed a golden strand of hair on Chanyeol’s shoulder and he picked it, both their eyes growing wide in realization.
Baekhyun stood up in anger.
“Whose hair is this.”
“What?! How did that even get there?”
“How would I know. You ask yourself.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Chanyeol retorted, although his eyes spoke of denial and fear.
“Yes, you do. You do know who this belongs to. We both know who this piece of hair belongs to.”
Chanyeol’s eyes suddenly widened in realization and filled with anger before he batted away Baekhyun’s hand. “What were you doing with my phone?”
“Well what were you doing outside! Coming home a mess and smelling sweeter than when you left? Where were you!”
“You were never there, Baekhyun.”
“Then where were you! Fucking your little hyung’s face?” Baekhyun watched as Chanyeol’s face turned stern and red in a second, and Baekhyun couldn’t help but scoff. “I can’t fucking believe you.”
Chanyeol stared at the corner of the room with gritted teeth, brimming with shame and anger. He broke out of the debate and bent to take his wallet, keys, and suitcase. Baekhyun’s eyes started to fill with tears as he watched. “I’ve had enough of you,” Chanyeol said, low enough to be a whisper.
“And why is that?” Baekhyun asked, not wanting his voice to shake.
“Because you were so caught up in your own life and you never take me seriously.”
Baekhyun stopped.
“Is that enough explanation for you?”
The room was filled with the whirring of the heater, the sound of their distant breaths. Chanyeol busied himself picking up the stuff he hadn’t taken yet. It started sinking in to Baekhyun that Chanyeol might be right. He might just be too proud after all.
"Then," Baekhyun started. His thumbs fidgeted idly on the edges of his fingernails. "What does he have over me?"
Chanyeol turned his head at the question but immediately continued rummaging, mouth shut. Baekhyun did not need any answers. Chanyeol dragged his stuff out of the room and wore the shoes he wore downstairs, not bothering to carry any more load.
Their relationship closed with a thud.
÷
Living alone turned out harder than Baekhyun had imagined, because his heated fleece still was not Chanyeol’s body on his back. He became a touchier person around people, an even more eager person than what he was already-the belt-dragger in all parties. Baekhyun tried going on with his life, looking professional and indifferent in the office and being a shameless animal on Friday nights.
He woke up one Sunday morning to nothing but dry scum on his bed, not even knowing to which face it belonged. He tried to sit only to feel his whole body tense and pulling, head pounding and throat dry. Baekhyun grunted sleepily, bare skin touching cold air and pretty pointers rubbing his eyes awake. He hated to and he did not want to, but he had to take a shower and clean his sheets and be on work mode, because it was a Sunday and he had stupidly brought work home for the weekend.
He walked lazily to his dresser, still feeling like a wreck, taking a white undershirt and boxers before heading to the bathroom to take his hangover pill and a good, sane shower. He entered the glass-doored shower stall and lathered shampoo onto his hair. At least the pouring water knocked some sense into him, telling him he should really stop going around fucking strangers if he wanted his life back. He rinsed and left the shower stall, wiping himself clean and dry.
Baekhyun dressed and left the bathroom with half dry hair. This big mess of a bedroom greeted him, not wanting to be tidied but they had to be. He took a look at the stack of envelopes and shiny magazine paper and was grateful that he could throw away Chanyeol’s bills and subscriptions, because they really were littering the room and Chanyeol never came back to take anything.
Eventually he only ended up throwing half of Chanyeol’s remaining stuff and kept all the printed pictures, because his heart was still there with them. But, being the good person he was, he pledged to give back Chanyeol’s stuff, just in case Chanyeol would need it somewhere in the future.
He checked all of the papers he was about to throw, just to make sure that he wouldn’t throw anything important, and stopped carding through when he saw a flyer for some Hawaii trip packages, and that moment, he knew exactly that what he needed was a vacation, although he wouldn’t be going to Hawaii with this kind of money anytime soon. But he could drive somewhere close and sleep in a mountainside lodge or bask in the sun on the beach. His whole face brightened up with inspiration. He could forget all his worries and come back new.
That was how Baekhyun managed to do his work in record time on a lazy Sunday night, rushing with the incentive of having a break from his confusing life and starting anew. He spent the new week working overtime and denying his utmost wish to hit the club again, being so busy that he hadn’t had the time to give Chanyeol’s stuff back even if he wanted to. He went up to arrange his much needed vacation on a Thursday when things finally turned down. He thought that spending the weekend on the mountainside would be the best idea to really unwind and stop running away.
As soon as the clock struck five on Friday, Baekhyun zoomed out of the office despite his staring coworkers. He went to claim the car he rented, booked a small mountainside lodge with a balcony, and rechecked all the items he wanted to take along. He left his apartment at four in the morning to get the most of his precious mountainside weekend, driving northbound, exiting the city in half an hour and the suburbs in one. He couldn't wait to just sit down on the porch and drink hot chocolate at his cozy little lodge.
The sun was rising shyly behind the mountains over paddy fields as he drove through, like the scenery he used to draw in kindergarten. He took a deep, grateful breath and kept going, until he saw a body lying there on the side of the vacant road.
He pulled over, murmuring in utter surprise under his breath.
Baekhyun knelt beside the unfortunate man although he could barely see anything, the man's jeans soaked purple with blood and his skin marred with dew, dirt and shallow scratches.
"Help," the man croaked. Baekhyun looked up to the man's face and was surprised to see a pale and blue Chanyeol staring back at him.
“Oh gosh,” Baekhyun moved closer. “What happened to you?”
“I-“ Chanyeol tried to sit to converse better with Baekhyun, but cried out in pain. Baekhyun held him down to calm him.
"Where are you hurt?"
Chanyeol moved his hand to his left leg and Baekhyun could see a rip on Chanyeol's jeans. With some basic knowledge he got from his time in military service, Baekhyun lifted Chanyeol and laid him in the back seat. Chanyeol groaned and cried, his pants scratching against the deep wound on his thigh each time. “I'll take you to the hospital, okay? If you feel sleepy, just, just remember to stay awake.”
Baekhyun was more than grateful that the rental had leather seats, or else the blood would’ve seeped everywhere. He turned around and headed back to find the nearest hospital possible, only remembering after halfway the trip that he should have tied something tight around the wound to slow the bleeding. He called, “Chanyeol,” looking at the mirror. “Chanyeol.”
Silence.
“Oh fuck,” he whispered. Chanyeol must’ve passed out and the seat cover must’ve been bathed in blood by now. He stepped on the pedal as deep as he could, splitting the empty road in half. Baekhyun listened to his GPS for the closest hospital as soon as he was inside the city boundaries. He turned and turned, restless and worried that Chanyeol would bleed dry. With a big sigh he finally entered a hospital and pulled over, running to the Emergency Unit and practically forcing the nurse to listen to him.
The Emergency Unit door flung shut and its status light blinked to life.
Baekhyun sighed. He sat down on one of the waiting seats and checked his phone, but there was nothing for him. He looked up to the ER again, still worried about Chanyeol's well-being. Baekhyun expected something when two nurses went out of the room, but they quickly walked away. Baekhyun sighed again.
"Mr. Park Chanyeol?" a nurse asked to everyone in the hallway over a good hour later. Baekhyun stood up with expectation for any news.
"Mr. Park Chanyeol?" She walked towards Baekhyun to repeat and confirm.
"Yes," Baekhyun answered firmly.
The nurse gave him Chanyeol’s wallet, took him to the payment counter and handed him all the papers he needed to fill.
"How are you related to Mr. Park, Sir?" the desk lady asked, as if there was no column about it in the form.
"We are not related," he said. The woman nodded and looked back at the paper. Baekhyun tapped his fingers on the marble counter.
"Do you know him personally?" she asked again.
Baekhyun's fingers crawled and held to the countertop pen just to have something to hold on to. His pointer drew fingerprint lines along one of its sides.
"No."
It was so that the hospital would not think that he was the one who wounded Chanyeol, he said to himself.
“We found that Mr. Park Chanyeol is enrolled in an insurance program, but it will not provide coverage for the blood bags and medications.”
“I can take financial responsibility,” Baekhyun said. “Just-don’t let him think about it,” he smiled before fishing a credit card from his wallet and sliding it to the desk lady. As she swiped his card, his heart twisted and his smile faded. With the expenses he made for his small break, plus whatever the total Chanyeol’s bill would be, he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to sustain himself for the rest of the month.
He went to Chanyeol's newly assigned room and went to see the man sleeping soundly on the white bed, who looked alright save for his pale skin and dry lips. He must've been drained out, sustained alive by the blood and infusion bags hanging on the pole by the bed. A nurse came in to put Chanyeol's freshly cleaned clothes, folded and stacked neatly on the bedside table.
Baekhyun looked down to Chanyeol's thick, black and worn wallet in his hand and flipped it open. The first thing he saw was a Polaroid of Chanyeol and Luhan kissing, and Baekhyun smiled at the tinge of pain. He slowly, curiously put his fingers behind the picture pocket and took all the pictures and cards out. There were two more pictures of Chanyeol and Luhan, a business card, a crumpled receipt, and a few movie ticket stubs, all of which were-curiously-the titles he and Chanyeol had gone to together. Baekhyun flicked through the tickets, title by title, and smiled at the flashes of silly memories.
Baekhyun's smile faded as he flicked on to the last piece of paper in the pile. A picture of himself holding noodles to his mouth. He remembered Chanyeol taking that picture on the phone, way back when they were still in college. Baekhyun could understand Chanyeol keeping the ticket stubs, but not a picture of him. He looked up to Chanyeol, looked at his picture in the wallet, and put the wallet on top of the pile of clothes.
"Ow," Chanyeol croaked unconsciously.
Baekhyun walked closer and watched Chanyeol slowly wake up.
“Hi,” said Chanyeol with a sheepish smile. "Ow." The ether was wearing off.
Baekhyun waited until he was sure Chanyeol was okay, hands on the bed railing instead of Chanyeol’s hands. “What happened to you?”
Chanyeol chuckled as if something was so funny. He shook his head. “Nothing. Just, pretty horrible stuff."
“Like, you couldn’t be just walking up there, it’s a mountain route.”
“I…” Chanyeol started, but couldn’t find a word for it. Baekhyun waited for his answer. “I-I got mugged, long story short.” Chanyeol smiled thin. “He got my car, tore my leg in the process.”
Baekhyun looked at Chanyeol with wide eyes and his mind filled with all the questions he could ask, but he knew it wasn’t the best time to. He moved his gaze to the small pipes on the back of Chanyeol’s hand. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” Chanyeol laughed. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”
“Do you remember the guy’s face? I can help you report to the police.”
Chanyeol shook his head. “Don’t bother. I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, smiling again.
Baekhyun ended up sleeping on Chanyeol’s hospital couch for the weekend, although keeping minimum contact with Chanyeol. Chanyeol was given crutches to walk with and was released on Sunday, at the same time Baekhyun needed to leave to prepare for work tomorrow. Chanyeol stopped Baekhyun from walking to the parking lot.
“Can I spend a night at,” Chanyeol gulped, adding a hard letter to the possessive, “your place?”
Baekhyun looked at him and knew what he was trying to say. “Tomorrow’s a Monday, Chanyeol.”
“I’ll make you dinner. No, a full whole meal. To repay for all your help. Please.” Chanyeol pleaded with eyes so wide, hands gripping the crutches so hard in excitement. “Just this once?”
“Chanyeol, don’t,” Baekhyun pleaded back. “I don’t want you to talk me into trying again.” He started walking, slowly, waiting for Chanyeol to come with. “I’ll take you home to your mom, then I’ll get this car back and-oh. I still have your stuff." Chanyeol's eyes lit brightly. "I’ll give you the box and drive you home.”
As much as Chanyeol wanted to retaliate he didn’t because as always, Baekhyun was the one in charge. They got into the car and drove to Baekhyun’s flat. Their old flat. Chanyeol looked up the levels with pain, because his life still revolved around this building even after Baekhyun. His secret lover at the time of breakup, Luhan, was a neighbor downstairs and Chanyeol still lived in the same building after leaving Baekhyun, just on a different level in a different apartment with a different person.
They got into the apartment and Baekhyun offered him a glass of water. Baekhyun ran to his room-their room, Chanyeol would say-to take a properly lidded cardboard box and bring it to the car. “Here’s your stuff: bills, clothes, pictures and all.”
Chanyeol looked down to the box and looked at Baekhyun, then the TV, and the rug. “Baekhyun-ah.”
“Hm?”
“It was my boyfriend who took the car,” Chanyeol admitted, almost whispering. His grip tightened on the cardboard box. Baekhyun wanted to believe he’d just heard the wrong thing. “I just can’t help but see how much of a fool I am now.”
“No,” Baekhyun’s eyes widened.
“Yes. That’s what happened.”
“Come on,” Baekhyun took the box for Chanyeol and tugged his wrist, not wanting to hold his hands. “Tell me where he lives and maybe we can get him.”
“No you can’t, he must’ve left by now.”
“So what? Take me there, and maybe we can find out where he is. I know you have the key code. Barge in.”
With wide eyes at Baekhyun’s boldness, Chanyeol led them to the place he ran to on the night they broke up, and when he opened the door, the space all looked the same. He was actually surprised at how Luhan didn’t change the key code for him.
“Hyung,” he called. “Dear?”
Chanyeol walked to the bedroom and opened the dresser to see only his clothes were left. Baekhyun’s heart trembled as he watched and followed, as if watching the night Chanyeol left from a witness’ point of view. Nothing was there. Whatever turmoil raging in Chanyeol’s heart was resonating in Baekhyun’s heart and Baekhyun could feel it, too. Chanyeol looked slowly at the empty desk, and the silver cat on the barren bedside table, then walked to the bed where a note sat on the pillow. Chanyeol silently picked up the note and turned around carefully, and Baekhyun immediately scrambled to assist Chanyeol to sit down on the bed. Baekhyun remained by Chanyeol’s side as Chanyeol read through.
Chanyeol had his head down, fingers fidgeting slowly on his lap and balling into a weak fist as soon as he finished reading. Chanyeol looked up to Baekhyun and Baekhyun was surprised to see tears hanging in Chanyeol’s eyes. Chanyeol had never cried before him. His bleary eyes charged with even more tears when they met Baekhyun’s questioning gaze. Chanyeol automatically dipped his head, not wanting Baekhyun to see him fall weak and cry.
“Chanyeol.” Baekhyun called with a note of surprise. “Chanyeol, what happened?”
Baekhyun did not earn an answer. Chanyeol hid his face and was still trying his best not to shake or let out a sound.
“Chanyeol?”
Chanyeol shook his head and he suddenly couldn’t help but cry harder, whispering, “I’m sorry,” breath hiccupping. “I’m so sorry.” Baekhyun kneeled and leveled his eyes with Chanyeol’s to try to understand what was happening, ask Chanyeol what he was endlessly apologizing for, but Chanyeol would never answer. He would rub Chanyeol’s knees to calm him down, but who was he to do that now.
Chanyeol’s reluctance made him give up. The note caught Baekhyun’s eye and he reached to take it and see for himself. He learned that it was Luhan’s neatly handwritten message, addressing Chanyeol with a note very blunt, but very vague at the same time.
We’re both bad enough to deserve this, sooner or later.
÷
Fate sure did have a dark sense of humor. Baekhyun tore himself from that room while Chanyeol couldn’t bring himself to stop Baekhyun from running. Chanyeol stayed there crying on the bed, Baekhyun unable to handle the thought of remaining in the same space to only regret their separation. Baekhyun couldn’t make himself stay by Chanyeol’s side and watch him cry over his mistake of cheating on him. He immediately ran to his apartment to escape whatever emotional hellhole that room was and closed the door behind his back, but as soon as he saw his own apartment, all he saw was him and Chanyeol and he eventually cried himself.
Baekhyun couldn’t possibly understand what Luhan was trying to mean with the note after going so far and physically hurting Chanyeol. Luhan was a stranger after all and he couldn’t be doing this to avenge Baekhyun. Chanyeol wasn’t that bad a person to have all of this happening to him. Baekhyun eventually wondered what Chanyeol had gotten himself into after he had left. It got to him, and he regretted, so very deeply, his blowing up in anger on Chanyeol, because this wouldn’t have happened if they, if he, had held on.
÷
Baekhyun woke up with puffy eyes the following morning, but he had to drag himself to work. The cold and relentless wind bit his hollow cheeks as soon as he left his apartment building. He sleepwalked to the station and spent the whole subway ride dragging on his feet.
He was slugging through his work and he really couldn’t put his mind on the screen. By lunch break, he wasn’t even hungry, but he knew he had to eat before acid could strike him again. He took a ham sandwich and a can of mocha from the convenience store on the other corner of the block, and when he took his wallet to pay, it wasn’t in his pocket.
His eyes grew wide. He remembered putting his wallet on his cubicle after going to the toilet and cursed himself.
He patted all his pockets for any bill or card he might have kept, but there was nothing. The line was getting long and he hated making anyone wait. The storekeeper scowled.
“I’ll pay,” the person behind said, a bottle of Calpis and almonds taking seats beside Baekhyun’s ham and mocha. The cashier immediately scanned the Calpis and almonds before grudgingly taking Baekhyun’s sandwich and coffee. She didn’t even care enough to mention the meager total, only rotating the screen to align with the kind man’s sight.
The kind man fished out his credit card and slid the sandwich and mocha towards Baekhyun with a sincere smile as soon as the transaction was completed. He stood a few inches taller than Baekhyun but he looked so young, as young as his choice of almonds and Calpis, too young to be hanging around this side of town in a suit buying lunch.
“Thank you very much. Thank you very, very much. Tell me how I can pay you back,” Baekhyun said as soon as they were outside, nodding and bowing profusely on his little running feet trying to catch up with the kind man’s long strides. The kind man scoffed at Baekhyun’s overwhelming gratitude, although it came out looking like a shy smile as he lowered his head to watch his steps. Baekhyun tried looking for affirmation the kind man’s eyes from his place in the bustling crowd. “I’m serious.”
The kind man opened his bottle of Calpis and took a gulp before he turned his head to Baekhyun. Baekhyun’s eyes widened with an idea popping into his mind. “Or do you want me to treat you right after office?” Baekhyun asked excitedly. “Please? Anything, just so I don’t feel too guilty over it.”
The kind man stopped by the main entrance to a neighboring office, presumably his, smiling. Other employees passed by chatting with each other holding their to-go paper bags from nearby cafes. “Really, don’t worry about it. It was nice meeting you,” he said, then he entered his office complex, leaving Baekhyun to trove his way back alone.
Baekhyun watched as the kind man walked away and slowly disappear, cheerfully talking to a coworker that had said hi. Baekhyun looked at his lunch and shrugged gratefully before starting his way back, not knowing that the person saved him a glance when he left the office complex. Baekhyun looked at his sandwich and mocha and smiled. He couldn’t be complaining for a free lunch after all.
÷
Baekhyun took the subway home at eight o’clock later that night, still fuzzy and confused about his surprise lunch treat. When he returned to work with zero expectations the next morning, an email and a following Outlook note popped up on his screen telling him that he had to attend a joint conference later in the afternoon. He sighed. Now he was 100% sure life was done playing with him. Baekhyun shrugged and closed the popup to continue working on his current document until lunch.
When Baekhyun was back from his lunch at the same old basement cafeteria, he took the necessary printed documents, his laptop, and everything else he needed before heading to the meeting room. He always liked preparing for a meeting, often being the one to arrive first and even helping with the coffee, despite the newer recruits politely declining him stealing their jobs. When he was done, he continued his small talk with the boy he was helping today, Minseok, still enjoying the company.
The both of them went and left the room, and Baekhyun knew joined his coworkers to enter the meeting room, followed by their immediate superior with five visitors. Baekhyun and his friends found their seats around the table and bowed to their boss and guests, and when Baekhyun lifted his face, his eyes lit in surprise seeing the kind man from yesterday standing across him. They shot each other subtle looks of acknowledgement, the, “What the hell are you doing here?!” gaze.
Baekhyun learned that his name was Kim Jongin, the drafter for their companies’ joint project. Baekhyun treated Jongin to coffee after five as his payback for the other day. Jongin’s body language exuded aptness and confidence, shown from his fingers that never trembled nor hid under the table; yet the man seemed very reserved, a smile being his closest to laughing.
What Baekhyun did not learn about Kim Jongin was that Jongin’s sole purpose in Seoul was to attend the joint meetings. As soon as the project was deemed complete by both parties, Jongin would be sent back to his current work station on the other side of the country.
The meeting continued at the same place and time, Jongin wittily explaining his ideas on a screen and Baekhyun taking notes to put to calculation later. Jongin would distract Baekhyun by sending funny pictures that weren’t actually funny, and they would exchange short, weird dialogs in secret via work email.
Their encounters were pretty much limited to the meeting, other than the occasional lunch or coffee meetups. Jongin was still equally silent, but he would step up and pay for their coffee when Baekhyun least expected it, and Baekhyun would retort but still accept the treat anyway. With Baekhyun, Jongin’s tightly kept smiles slowly grew into laughter, and with Jongin, Baekhyun felt like he was himself again.
One Tuesday dusk, the sky was thick with clouds, and it had been raining long before five. They waited for the winter rain to go and talked a little bit more in the café, even though they couldn’t even pretend to drink out of their cups anymore. Baekhyun looked at the time and was starting to feel anxious because he had to go home sooner or later. It was almost seven, way stretching it now. Baekhyun looked at the grim sky outside and it was still raining, it didn’t look like it was about to die down anytime soon.
“Don’t you think we should be heading out like, right now?” Baekhyun suggested. “We still have to prepare materials for tomorrow.”
“But it’s raining.” Jongin reasoned. He put his dirtied teaspoon on the saucer. Jongin never told Baekhyun that he wanted to spend as much time with Baekhyun as he could. He never told Baekhyun that he was actually grateful that the rain grounded them together in the café.
Baekhyun suppressed his sigh and exhaled quietly, not wanting to fight it. He took a look at the clock again. “I’ll just leave now.” Jongin looked at Baekhyun, who was packing up and wearing his coats, and decided to mimic his actions. He followed Baekhyun out the café without any hurry, but Baekhyun was walking so fast-
Baekhyun lost footing and would’ve fallen flat on the sidewalk, had it not been for Jongin gripping his arm. Baekhyun gasped and his heartbeat went staccato, whispering, “Thank you,” in a whip of panic. Jongin kept his grip and pulled Baekhyun closer, nudging Baekhyun to start walking as if Baekhyun was under his arrest. The rain was cold on his head and stinging on his face, and his heart kept racing as he walked carefully in his slim leather shoes. They didn’t talk throughout the walk to the subway station, Jongin tugging cautiously when one of them was about to fall.
Baekhyun suppressed his deride when Jongin finally let go of him to take his fare card out. Baekhyun tapped his card, smiling silently at Jongin’s protective gesture, then he waited for Jongin from the other side. They didn’t talk when they waited for their trains, only standing awkwardly beside each other.
Jongin looked up to the speakers as the little arrival jingle played in the air. Jongin turned to Baekhyun and gave a knowing look. It was his train. The speaker gave an automated woman’s babble of the current arrival; please watch your step, Passengers. “Take care,” Jongin said, voice slightly drowned by the speakers, by the soft hiss of the braking train. Jongin ran across the platform towards his car before it could leave him, then he held on to a pole inside and smiled from his new place. The door closed, the train hissed away, and the automated announcer ended her speech. Baekhyun was left to stare at his reflection on the glass door, the water on his head starting to seep cold into his pores. His fingers tremble at the creeping gust of wind that found its way down to the station.
Baekhyun boarded his train and took another careful walk under the freezing rain before he could reach his apartment building. He pressed the elevator button and hugged the messenger bag he used to cover himself so that the water would soak into his coat.
Baekhyun turned on the light to his apartment, took off his coat and shoes, and popped whatever leftover in the fridge into the microwave. He ate and gulped a glass of water before starting on his report for the follow-up meeting tomorrow. It had been a stressful stretch of time, this joint venture, but he was grateful that it was making his hands full.
When Baekhyun woke up, his phone alarm had been ringing twice and was borderline dying, empty red battery bars glaring in his eyes. His throat felt horrible and his head was heavy-of all the time possible it just had to be now. He shot up and took a flash shower, still very upset that he didn’t get to finish the report and had to wake up twenty minutes late.
Baekhyun walked dead out of the apartment, on the subway, and on the way to the office. He drilled through and managed to finish the report in time, dialogs and important ideas on the afternoon meeting mere babbles to his ears. He didn’t even bother looking sharp or replying the worried smileys from Jongin popping on his laptop screen.
Tea @ 5? Jongin asked on the screen.
:(
Are you okay?
Baekhyun couldn’t take it anymore, so he wrote a quick, Shut up I’m trying to listen, before looking at the projector screen, trying his best not to slam his laptop closed.
He managed to go through the rest of the day, although dreaded and slugging, yet he knew that he would have to carry some of his work home and not sleep again tonight because year-end reports were always dreadful. Baekhyun knew he would be good as new with a good night’s sleep but he couldn’t have any, at least until the weekend.
So when Baekhyun was more than grateful that the week was over, he packed and took off immediately. The elevator was jam packed, his head was heavy, and his shoulders were sore as hell. As soon as he got out to the lobby’s marble floor Baekhyun wrapped his scarf around his face to shield himself from the coming cold. The only thing that surprised him was Jongin blocking his way in the crowded lobby shoving a warm flask into his hands.
“I’m sorry,” Jongin said in empathy, turning around to walk with Baekhyun outside Baekhyun’s office.
“What is this?” Baekhyun croaked, muffled from behind the scarf.
“Tea.” Jongin said as they exited the office boundaries.
“Thank you.” Baekhyun looked at Jongin, then at the groceries bag in his hand, as they treaded the sidewalk. “What is that?”
Jongin looked down to his hands to understand what Baekhyun was talking about. “Chicken.”
“Ah.”
Baekhyun let Jongin walk him to the subway station. They scanned their fare cards. Baekhyun immediately lowered the scarf covering his face as soon as they were on the other side. He whined, “I want to go to sleep,” but Jongin didn’t say anything back.
They stopped walking when they reached Baekhyun’s platform door. Jongin put his idle hand in his coat pocket. “You’ll be home soon.” Jongin turned his head to look at Baekhyun. “Do you feel any better now?”
Baekhyun shook his head weakly. The arrival jingle played in the air and Baekhyun’s train came into view.
“Drink my tea,” Jongin said. The platform door slid open and Baekhyun turned his head to Jongin.
“Thanks. See you.” Baekhyun said, and entered the train, but only after he turned around and the doors had closed he learned that Jongin followed him in. “What are you doing here-I mean-you-aren’t you going the other way?”
“But you’re sleepy. I’m just afraid that you’re not gonna be aware and then you’ll slip again.”
Baekhyun sighed, the hot exhale burning and scratching in his throat. “I need to rest, Jongin.”
“Exactly.”
Baekhyun didn’t have the heart to shoo Jongin away, so he let Jongin stand beside him in the crowded train and grip his arm on the icy sidewalk. When Baekhyun got to his building and Jongin didn’t stop following him, Baekhyun had to stop walking to actually stop Jongin.
“You need to go home, Jongin. I need to go to sleep.”
“But I brought chicken.”
“I-“ Baekhyun wiped his hot face with both hands multiple times in utter exasperation. “Alright.” Baekhyun gestured Jongin to come with him. They took the elevator with hands in their own pockets and walked their way to Baekhyun’s door with Baekhyun constantly chanting, “Cold, cold, cold,” two octaves lower than his usual voice. He punched in his key code and mumbled, “I’m home,” to himself. Jongin followed. Baekhyun turned on the lights and made Jongin sit at the dining table while waiting for the room to heat.
“Are you staying over?” Baekhyun called to Jongin from his bedroom.
“Yes, I am.” Jongin yelled back. His fingers rustled nervously on the plastic bag.
Baekhyun came back to the kitchen huddled in a blanket in all his coat and suit-and-tie, holding another blanket he would toss to Jongin. He sat down across Jongin at the dining table and rested his head on his folded arms. “Would you kindly wake me up if I fall asleep?” Baekhyun looked up to look at Jongin. “Thank you.” Baekhyun folded himself into a ball on the chair, head resting on his hands on the table.
Jongin took for himself a glass of water, sipped slowly, and put his glass down on the table. He rested his head on folded arms like Baekhyun did, and stared at the immediately sleeping blob of hair across him. Jongin had been seeing Baekhyun getting worse the past three days now. He silently dragged his chair to the empty space by Baekhyun’s side for a better look.
Baekhyun was sleeping restlessly in his uncomfortable position. His cheek rested on his upper arm because he’d been unconsciously curling inwards in his sleep. Baekhyun was shaking, and Jongin could feel his heart pull at the sight before his eyes. Jongin lifted his hand and hesitantly patted Baekhyun’s fluffy hair dampened by the snow. His hand slid slowly and touched Baekhyun’s skin, and he instantly pulled away. Baekhyun’s skin was too feverishly hot to his fingertips, and Jongin stood up, knowing that he had to do something but not knowing what.
Jongin decided to very carefully, very slowly, scoop Baekhyun off his seat and carry him to his bedroom. He pushed the door to Baekhyun’s room with his shoulder and slowly, carefully put Baekhyun on the bed, pulling a blanket over Baekhyun’s body. He went out of the room to take a glass of water and the fever patches he bought for Baekhyun when he bought chicken. Jongin went back to Baekhyun’s room and peeled a piece, carefully tucking away Baekhyun’s hair before sticking the patch onto Baekhyun’s forehead.
Jongin watched as Baekhyun opened his eyes in surprise. The fever patch must’ve felt freezing on his skin and yanked him out of his sleep. Baekhyun blinked once and looked at Jongin, just alert but not surprised. Baekhyun put his hand on his forehead, where he felt a coarse strip of plastic and a cold hand with fingernails trimmed too deep. Baekhyun took his hand back and let it cling onto the blanket, his breath still burning in his throat. He stirred in the numbness and curled his body, consciousness drifting. He took Jongin’s hand by the bed and let his fever burn on Jongin’s skin, just staring emptily and dragging each long blink of his eyes.
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