Work Text:
Baekhyun and Yixing had never been friends. It didn’t matter that they smiled at each other from across campus whenever they met eyes, or that each crazy party thrown by Chanyeol and Jongdae ended with the two of them on the rooftop, cuddling. Neither of their numbers were in the other’s list of contacts because never had they found a reason to talk, to cross the line between ’acquaintances’ and ’friends’ or even ’drunken cuddle buddies’ and ’casual chatmates’. No secrets had been shared between them in spite of them sharing glasses at those many parties, and although they had on several drunken occasions ended up falling asleep with their fingers entwined, physical contact was nearly nonexistent save for Yixing infrequently crashing into Baekhyun while rushing towards the lecture hall while still in his slippers.
Baekhyun loved it, that side of Yixing—his remoteness and free spirit, the way he could be seen with a take-away mug which everyone knew contained wine and not coffee. He loved that Yixing’s messy hair was never fully black but stained with whatever paint had been used for his latest art piece, how his fingers were blue or even glittery at times. Baekhyun couldn’t solve the mystery of Yixing’s character and even less figure out what was so enticing about it, but little it matter when he knew that their differences were probably too many for them to ever become real friends. Yet, he never cared to let go, to refrain from visiting the college atelier in which Yixing was sipping on tea mixed with paint while working on one of his weird installations. The truth was actually that Baekhyun didn’t mind it—observing Yixing from a close yet safe distance was a stimulating hobby when all came around, and as long as Jongdae kept throwing parties as Chanyeol’s there would still be moments where acquaintances bonded over stolen alcohol while snuggling up closer.
It wasn’t until one interesting night that Baekhyun found out just how destructively stupid Yixing could be.
Only an hour or two had passed since his arrival when the loudest of screams caused the party to stop. Jongdae was running around in panic while shouting that ”Yixing is way too innocent to die!”, earning sighs by someone called Luhan who claimed that ”silly little Xing will survive this time, too”. Chanyeol was crying, the rest were confused, and although the commotion should have worried Baekhyun, he couldn’t help but feel slightly intrigued by the reason as to why everyone had lost their shit.
Apparently, Yixing had gulped vodka instead of beer, mixing it up with some cocktail of pills. Standing on the rooftop while reciting some poet whose works were way too obscure for textbooks, he threatened to end his life by jumping unless someone told him what would happen after death. There, while surrounded by his panicking friends who didn’t know that it happened each weekend, he looked at Baekhyun dead in the eye before taking a step not bigger than a baby’s.
That night ended with two broken legs and an art student screaming ”PAIN IS ART!” while falling, later strapped to a stretcher whilst the others stood wondering why someone whose bones had just been snapped in half could still laugh.
Baekhyun approached Yixing at campus once the wheelchair was gone and replaced with crutches. ”Are you crazy?” he asked, not judging but curious, and be it not for that a ”yes” was to be expected had his question probably come out all wrong.
Silence followed, then a smile, before Yixing grabbed his take-away mug filled with wine instead of coffee and drank it in one go. He didn’t respond then, only offered a hum whilst licking his lips without breaking eye-contact, grabbed his crutches that were covered in paint before stumbling away on his still healing legs.
Baekhyun knew, though, that the answer was irrelevant, that it didn’t matter that Yixing was crazy if insanity was the reason for why that smile looked so special.
It was Yixing’s turn to approach this time and Baekhyun wondered if the other was drunk.
Months had passed and the crutches were gone, broken legs being but an anecdote told by Chanyeol who never failed to mention it at his parties. The rain was pouring, having drenched those students who had spent the morning running through campus to lectures, and Yixing whose legs were now free of bandage was apparently no exception since his hair was dripping.
Baekhyun found it a little bit cute how Yixing’s face was striped with rivulets of paint having dissolved in the rain. He couldn’t figure out, of course, how Yixing had managed to get paint in his hair, but cared little about pondering as the latter walked up to him and granted him with a wet and highly unexpected hug. ”I might be crazy,” was what Yixing said while transferring some of that paint to Baekhyun, ”but I hope that won’t be a problem, because I really, really like you.”
On that day they went from acquaintances to friends, still cuddling while drunk but not only at parties. No one around them knew how it had happened but no one was more clueless than Baekhyun, yet he decided at some point during their friendship that as long as each day brought him closer to Yixing, he didn’t really mind that the future was unpredictable.