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It’s much like a brick to the face, with all the subtlety and grace of having your nose broken by dusty red concrete, Jongdae realizes it.
He definitely, maybe, certainly wants to kiss Baekhyun.
Not in the kind of way where you want to kiss someone just to see what kissing them would be like when you’re thirteen, because Jongdae is ten years and many many kisses past feeling like that, but here he is again being hit with the overwhelming urge to lean over the grill and plant one right on Baekhyun’s open mouth. Not in the no homo way either that Chanyeol snickers when he smacks kisses against Jongdae and Baekhyun's cheeks when he’s drunk, but in the very big yes homo way that ends with both of them horizontal and a whole lot of clothes next to Jongdae’s bed.
So maybe it isn’t a sudden realization so much as a oh fuck, it’s still like this, you want to kiss that boy. In the big gay way where you’re not just bros, but brofriends, maybe even boyfriends. Or vertical. Any position works really, horizontal is just the first that came to mind when Jongdae began experiencing this small epiphany in the middle of turning the meat.
That’s just the way the universe works, he supposes. You get cosmic realizations over being in love with your best friend over mundane things like tying your shoes or crossing the street or eating as much meat as physically possible in a two hour time limit.
It’s a culmination of a lot of moments, he figures, an anticlimax when you scroll back through the years and years of their history together and find images of their pinkies locked together walking to the bus stop, of the two of them curled around each other in shared sleeping bags, sharing secrets and scrapes and smiles and just maybe Jongdae had hoped at thirteen that it’d been Baekhyun that the spin the bottle had landed on for that first kiss instead of Sunyoung. Even if that had made his thirteen year old self exponentially cooler and he’d gotten a lot of fist bumps at the lunch table, he’d rather have punched Baekhyun’s mouth with his mouth. Eloquent.
That’s how repressing feelings goes, he guesses, they just come roaring back when you least expect and remind you that maybe middle school you was right about some things after all. Probably wrong about almost everything still, but definitely right about wanting to know if Baekhyun’s mouth tastes like hopes and dreams and rainbows.
It probably tastes like meat and alcohol and other unspecial mouth things right now, but Jongdae’s urge to know for sure has come back with a sudden avengeance and he doesn’t know what to do about it.
He should probably talk to someone about this, but the person he talks to about all his problems is currently across from him and looking way too kissable even in his four days unwashed hair and knock off balenciaga hoodie and bags under his eyes that could rival moon craters. Baekhyun is just effortlessly beautiful all the time like that, and Jongdae thinks he might have something more than just the meat sweats right now.
In any case, something about the way the heat of the grill and soju shots light up Baekhyun’s cheeks with a pretty flush and the smile he’s sending Jongdae right now break Jongdae just a little bit, and he narrowly avoids smacking his beer right off the table in a kind of sims glitch that makes his arm spasm.
“Dude,” Baekhyun’s voice breaks him away from scrambling to make sure he doesn’t slap the overpriced alcohol right off the table, this whole place is too expensive for either of them to be honest but the meat restaurant downtown is a post exam tradition that is never broken, so here they are. It’s expensive enough to be almost as good as Jongdae’s aunt’s restaurant in Korea that’s half the price, but not quite. Baekhyun always makes this fact known, usually loudly and always after one shot too many since this is his only real occasion for drinking. “Dae? Jongdae. Jongdae Kim. You’re setting the meat on fire. It’s burning as we speak and you’re staring into it like it just told you it paid all your loans.”
Jongdae startles again when Baekhyun manhandles the tongs out of his hands to take over the grill, smile fond even as he rolls his eyes, and Jongdae can’t take his eyes off the curve of Baekhyun’s mouth.
“We didn’t get through three all nighters and half the remaining food budget for the month for you to space out on the meat,” Baekhyun scolds, cheeks still flushed as he clicks his tongue, and Jongdae can only grin dumbly. “Your tolerance is higher than mine and the night is young, get it together man.”
Baekhyun hands him the tongs back, and Jongdae thinks about how easy it would be to lean across the table and kiss Baekhyun like he wants to, because even if it’s half the budget there is meat more important to take care of than what they’re eating right now. Haha. He would tell Baekhyun the meat joke if it wouldn’t out him for lusting after his meat, and his heart, which is super gay and not something Jongdae wants to address right now.
“Yeah, yeah,” He says instead, because Jongdae is a coward and nothing is scarier than the idea of feelings. He prods at the meat and tries to look out the window and down onto the street like a sea of people on Friday night will distract him from the glare of Baekhyun’s full attention on him. “Like we aren’t going to call it quits and have to take you home for your ten thirty league appointment after you get too drunk to remember you’re even supposed to do that after one bottle and I have to be responsible for you.”
“Uncalled for,” Baekhyun grumbles, flicking an uncooked piece of garlic in Jongdae’s direction only for it to go sailing out the window instead. Fare thee well. “You’re supposed to be nice to me, whose notes did you borrow to get through statistics again? Hmm?”
“Kyungsoo’s, yours were too illegible but I didn’t want to make you feel bad,” Jongdae deadpans, and Baekhyun rolls his eyes again, feet knocking at Jongdae’s ankles under the table, and Jongdae feels like his brain is going to explode. Being with Baekhyun is too easy, comfortable to slip into, and he feels like he should have had this realization much sooner. Maybe all those tackles in football just broke the wiring in his brain. “Now say ahh and drink your soju so we can go home and you can defend your ranking, or whatever.”
“Ahh,” Baekhyun says obediently, even though Jongdae can tell he’s dying to bite something back about how league actually works, judging by the way he snaps his teeth at Jongdae’s fingers after the meat is shoved into his mouth. Jongdae immediately has an intrusive thought about Baekhyun sucking on his fingers and nearly slams his face into the grill just to end his suffering. “I’ll let your eternal bad taste in games slide since this is supposed to be a celebration. You’re still coming to my game this Saturday, right?”
“When have I ever not?” Jongdae prods at the few pieces of meat left, and thinks that true love is that he’d be willing to let Baekhyun have all of them. Gross. “I’ll suffer another endless amount of hitting the ball and running in circles for your sake.”
“I was just making sure, and that was literally one time that we had that many extra innings,” Baekhyun’s cheeks are still flushed, hair ruffled up by the almost summer breeze coming in through the windows. Jongdae takes a long drink of his beer. “Like I don’t suffer more watching you do even more boring ball running in the cold and rain every fall. And I don’t even get to wear your jersey like in high school.”
Oh yeah, Baekhyun did used to wear his jersey on fridays before the football games back then. The more Jongdae thinks about it, the more all of this big feelings revelation makes sense. He wonders if he could just kiss Baekhyun and it would all work out like it does in the movies, and the violin music in the background can swell as the narrator talks about their happily ever after and they brofist and plan their meat buffet wedding afterwards. That seems really ideal.
“It’s not my fault your taste in sports is flawed, Hyun, and you never give me your jersey ever,” Jongdae shrugs, trying not to get ahead of himself in the wedding planning, which when he thinks about it, they may have already gotten married when they were eight under the big red slide on the playground. He’s pretty sure Chanyeol officiated, he should ask him about it. He doesn’t think he has any fond memories that don’t have Baekhyun in them, and that’s some real food for thought. “Now hurry up and shove down those garlics so we don’t get charged for them, we only have twenty minutes left.”
“But every homerun I hit is with you in mind,” Baekhyun says, eyes sparkling, and Jongdae wonders if everyone else knows that they’re in yes homo love with each other but have never talked about it. He really needs to ask. Baekhyun begins slowly pocketing the garlics, and Jongdae tries to package away a reminder to take them out of his jeans so their apartment doesn’t smell like old garlic when Baekhyun inevitably forgets.
“You don’t hit homeruns, like ever,” Jongdae knows that Baekhyun sucks at hitting, but he really wants to tell him that he could run all of the bases with him any day. The perfect moment for the world’s best pickup line ruined by the fact that he isn’t in a bar and that Baekhyun would probably call him a dumbass and think he’s not being serious. “But whatever you say. I’ll escort you from work to practice, same as always.”
“I’m a pitcher, so sue me, but those three I got in high school were definitely for you,” Jongdae nearly bites his tongue holding back that Baekhyun could pitch to him in a heartbeat, and channels it into swallowing the rest of his beer instead. “When I get into the major leagues I’ll be sure to dedicate all my pitches to you. Just as long as every time you dab in the endzone it’s for me.”
“Bold of you to assume I would dab for anyone else,” Jongdae pushes down the inherent urge to dab, because he’s trying to make a point here. Baekhyun finishes pocketing all of the garlic and grabs for the bill so they can burn through most of their grocery money.
“Good,” Is all Baekhyun says, dragging Jongdae out of the booth and nearly spinning them both to the floor when he decides that Jongdae isn’t moving fast enough for his liking. Jongdae catches Baekhyun by the collar of his shirt and drags him over to the register, pulling out his wallet to pay.
Baekhyun plays with Jongdae’s free hand absentmindedly while Jongdae uses all of his braincells to count out the cash needed to pay with one hand, brain scrambling irreparably as Baekhyun turns the rings he wears habitually around Jongdae’s fingers.
“I’m glad we switched to a cash budget, makes it easier to remember how poor we are,” Baekhyun mumbles after Jongdae pays, and Jongdae nearly trips down the stairs because holy shit, they do have a cash budget. That’s the gayest thing ever, how did he not figure this out sooner. “Jongdae? You still with me?”
Baekhyun raps his knuckles on the side of Jongdae’s head, and Jongdae smiles through the pain. Feelings are for losers, and he’s apparently had a case of them for his whole life. He is the loser. Someone should shove him in a locker.
“Yeah, I’m with you.” Always.
Baekhyun grins, blinding, cheeks red and eyes impossibly happy, and how is Jongdae supposed to do anything but let him pull him home and farther down the cliff that he didn’t even know he was looking over.
“Did you guys know I’m in love with Baekhyun?”
Chanyeol chokes on his overpriced stadium soda, and Kyungsoo has to hurriedly slap napkins over Chanyeol’s nose to keep the soda from dripping all over all their pants. So Jongdae might have bad timing, he’s been learning this lesson well the past few days.
“Well yeah, I think everyone knows that,” Kyungsoo says, pushing Chanyeol off to the bathroom to get paper towels and looking at Jongdae witheringly while poking at him with sticky fingers to remind him that this is his fault. “I think even Baekhyun knows, but we were all waiting for you to get it through that thick concussion skull of yours. Junmyeon owes me twenty bucks, he didn’t think you’d ever figure it out, which to be fair it has been what, ten years?”
Jongdae stares.
“But honestly he should know better being so princely, you’d think he’d have some faith in true love,” Kyungsoo says sagely. Jongdae stares harder.
“But like, not the you’re my best friend forever love,” He feels the need to clarify, if money is being exchanged at his personal expense then he needs to make sure everyone gets their fair share. Jongdae is a good person like that. “I mean the we’re best friends forever but we’re also naked while being best friends and bro we are kissing now, don’t stop bro, kind of love.”
“Are you well?” Kyungsoo asks, brows furrowed, and Jongdae puts his head in his hands. This is stupid and everyone is useless. “Like, are you okay?”
“No,” He groans into his hands, pressing the heels of his hands so hard into his eyes that he starts seeing little stars. Maybe they’ll tell him the answers. All it tells him is that he’s been up half the night the past few days rethinking his entire life and the fact that the center of it is not so much a sun as much as it is the entity of Baekhyun Byun. He wonders if everyone that looks at Baekhyun sees him revolving around Jongdae too, the two dumbest stars in the solar system too stupid to know they’re orbiting each other. “I’m lovesick.”
“Well, unless you’re going to throw up right now you might want to look up, because Baekhyun is waving at you,” Chanyeol chimes in, shoving Jongdae over to get back to his spot and pulling his hands off of his face with still sticky fingers. “Don’t leave him hanging.”
Jongdae rockets up so hard he nearly gets whiplash. He’s never left Baekhyun hanging before, and doesn’t plan on starting now, he would run down onto the diamond to give him a fist bump if he had to.
Kyungsoo yanks him back down, ever conscious of Jongdae about to do stupid things in Baekhyun’s name, and Jongdae contents himself with waving wildly back, Chanyeol’s overly long arms smacking into his as he joins in.
Baekhyun cracks his gum and grins, and Jongdae thinks that if he kissed him right now he’d taste like bubblegum and rainbows and dreams coming true. That’s wrong, but his imagination thinks that it sounds good so he goes with it, and he’ll never know for sure unless he gets to kiss that boy. Which he is working his way up towards, since apparently everyone knows they’re in love with each other except him.
Maybe he just needs to talk to Baekhyun.
“Do you think I should run onto the field and yank that bat out of his hands and tell him that I love him more than any sportsball or videogames and ask him to be my boy?” Jongdae mumbles, mostly to himself and still waving even though Baekhyun has turned his back to actually play the sport that he can thank for his scholarship. “And then dip kiss him? Is that dramatic enough for all this lead up?”
“Yes,” Chanyeol says firmly, at the same time Kyungsoo gives an even firmer no. “I’ll film it and put it on youtube and then get monetised and we’ll all be rich.”
“And the first thing on list of things we aren’t doing is going to be that,” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, and Jongdae looks at the two of them longsufferingly. He would be a lot more invested in this if he wasn’t thinking of great ways to confess to Baekhyun. Maybe he should try to find his class ring and ask Baekhyun to go steady with him. “Just talk to him, god knows the two of you share a brain.”
“At least let me have the main speech at your wedding if I can’t use you guys for money and fame,” Chanyeol grumbles, and Jongdae feels like he should pat him on the back or something. But looking intently at Baekhyun stick his tongue out while he concentrates on practicing batting is much more interesting, so he does that instead.
“You guys can all fight it out when the time comes,” Jongdae says offhandedly, and thinks that that will probably be a very intense game of rock paper scissors when the time comes. Because it will come, because he’s going to confess and it’s going to be romantic and perfect and who wouldn’t want to be his boyfriend anyway? He’s awesome. Maybe not as awesome as Baekhyun, but he thinks that Baekhyun should be able to accept the second most awesome guy in the world as his boyfriend. “Shut up now, baekhyun is batting, maybe he’ll actually hit the ball this time.”
Baekhyun hits a homerun, and Jongdae and everyone else’s jaws almost collectively hit the ground. Baekhyun just grins when he turns, pointing his bat right at Jongdae before he drops it and makes his way around the bases to the roar of the home crowd.
“I guess I need to give him my jersey in the fall,” Jongdae mutters to himself, and thinks it would be nice to see Baekhyun with his last name and number emblazoned on his back again anyway.
“What?” Chanyeol’s sharp elbows hit the spot between Jongdae’s ribs that always makes him flinch, but Jongdae is stuck drowning in Baekhyun’s smile as he looks him dead in the eyes all the way from the field, flourishing a bow as he crosses home. He’s so annoying.
Jongdae is irreparably, stars in the sky, heat of a thousand suns, till the end of the world, yes homo gone for him, and he’s getting the feeling that it’s a mutual thing.
The perks of Baekhyun working at the school planetarium since the beginning of college is that it’s a really convenient place for his and Jongdae’s movie nights every Thursday.
Baekhyun has good ideas sometimes, and abusing his keys to the building to broadcast every iteration of sharknado on the 360 dome screen happens to be one of the better ones.
Most weeknights during the school year have some kind of sports practice for them, but Thursday nights are sacred, and Jongdae is nothing if not determined to make some kind of confession this time. Late spring means it’s Baekhyun’s rotation in and out of practice, but he still shows up at nine o'clock on the dot still, hair still damp under his cap from his shower and in his sweats that were once Jongdae’s, slightly out of breath and grinning as he lets them in.
Jongdae could combust with how much he wants to kiss Baekhyun, knock the stupid ball cap off his head and tangle his hands in damp hair, yank on it until Baekhyun is moaning into his mouth and --
He really needs to get this over with before his brain breaks.
“I’m surprised we haven’t gotten yelled at about this yet,” Jongdae mentions offhandedly, shoving thoughts of Baekhyun’s tongue in his mouth down and unfolding their usual blanket from his backpack and rolling around on it until Baekhyun gets the settings on the projector right, kicking Jongdae with his foot to get him to roll over and make room.
“Please, we never will,” Baekhyun scoffs, flopping back tiredly as the beginning credits roll, blaring sharknado 6: shark vs t-rex down at them. “Like anyone can resist me, I’m the king around here.”
“You’re so dumb,” Jongdae says, but he’s grinning, and Baekhyun grins right back, worming his way over until he’s practically draped over Jongdae, looking up to see the movie with sleepy eyes. Jongdae wouldn’t be surprised if Baekhyun falls asleep on him. It’s been known to happen before, especially when one of them is coming from hours of running around under the sun, and before Jongdae knows it Baekhyun’s loud laughter of god how can you even act in this with a straight face fades into silence with his head lolled on Jongdae’s shoulder.
In retrospect, how is he not supposed to love Baekhyun? When he knows what his heartbeat sounds like when he’s asleep and where all his moles are and how his short lashes fan out when he closes his eyes, how loud his laughter is and the way his eyes curve when he’s happy, the way his voice gets just a bit softer when he says Jongdae’s name, how is anyone else supposed to compare when he’s always had Baekhyun at his side, brighter than any person has any right to be?
“Did I fall asleep again?” Baekhyun mumbles into Jongdae’s shirt, snapping him out of what was a very hard zone out, making him realize that his shoulder is wet with what is definitely a lot of drool. Jongdae can’t even be annoyed, he’s just as endeared as he is with everything Baekhyun does. The movie also seems to be over now, which makes Jongdae a bit impressed with his ability to just stare at Baekhyun. Which definitely isn’t weird, not even a little bit. “Why didn’t you wake me up? Now we’re just going to have to watch it again next week, you know I love this stupid shit.”
“I got distracted,” Jongdae shrugs, and it feels like this should be the moment, even if he really doesn’t have anything planned out. “Hey, do you think you could put the stars up again? I wanna see something.”
“Whatever His Highness wants, right away,” Baekhyun yawns, rolling out of Jongdae’s arms and crawling his way up the stairs until he can mess with the settings again, stars erupting on the black screen. Baekhyun slides his way back down the stairs until he lands half on top of Jongdae again, face very close under the dimmed starlight as he waits for Jongdae to make a move. “What did you want to see?”
You, his brain provides, Baekhyun under the tiny artificial white stars, sparkling just as much as any of the real ones, a supernova contained and bleeding light into Jongdae’s world. Looking at him like this with all of Baekhyun’s attention on him is is a lot like looking up at the ceiling in the hall of diamonds, blinding and extravagant in a way that you can’t take your eyes off of while making you wonder how the hell something like this came to be in the first place.
“What’s your favorite star? Show me,” He asks instead, even as the clock in his brain ticks louder and screams at him to stop wasting time. He has a plan here, and he isn’t going to rush it, he’s waited this long already.
“Hm,” Baekhyun’s grin turns soft, voice quiet like he’s sharing a secret before he reaches up and taps at the mole on Jongdae’s temple, fingers burning a beat into Jongdae’s skin. Jongdae catches Baekhyun’s wrist in his hand before he drops it and holds it there, feeling Baekhyun’s pulse in his wrist jump. “This one right here. You.”
“Then which one am I up there?” Jongdae asks, and he knows he should just shut up, make like the little mermaid and Kiss The Boy, but he can’t help himself. Baekhyun pretends to think again, but his eyes don’t leave Jongdae’s even as he points up above to the brightest light in the dome.
“Sirius,” Baekhyun’s smile is lopsided, like he’s stating a known fact, and Jongdae can’t take it anymore. “I mean, you’re definitely the brightest star in my sky.”
Jongdae gives up, and Kisses That Boy, thumb rubbing soft circles on Baekhyun’s wrist as he leans in and plants one right on him.
Baekhyun doesn’t seem surprised, grinning so hard that it’s almost hard to kiss him, and Jongdae narrowly avoids smashing their noses together, and he thinks that this is not the great movie theater kiss that all his other practice kisses were supposed to lead up to, but he loves it anyway.
It’s Baekhyun, how could he not.
He figures out rather quickly that Baekhyun just tastes like Baekhyun, sticky soda and popcorn and the slight mint of leftover toothpaste, and no one has ever said what hopes and dreams taste like, so Jongdae is willing to say that this is close enough. He slides his hands into Baekhyun’s hair the way he’s wanted to for hours as Baekhyun hums against his mouth, kisses the curls at the corners of his lips and Jongdae feels giddy when Baekhyun’s breath hitches as he tugs at the ends of Baekhyun’s hair, curling just under his ears and perfect for Jongdae to pull him back onto his mouth, kiss and kiss and kiss until they’re both breathless.
“I can’t believe I basically had to do the confession for you,” Baekhyun mumbles, laughing against Jongdae’s mouth when he pinches him on his hip, rolling on top of Jongdae and pressing him back into the blanket. Jongdae wants to tell Baekhyun that even under all these stars and planets and supergiants, Baekhyun is still the brightest to him too, but his tongue feels tangled up and all he can do is smile and swipe his thumbs over the apples of Baekhyun’s cheeks. He probably knows anyway. “I thought you were working up to something really smooth there, but I should have known better.”
“What can I say, I’m in love,” Jongdae grins, and Baekhyun smiles so hard he’s biting his lip, resting his elbows on either side of Jongdae’s head and leaning down to give Jongdae the most rainbow and happiness flavored kiss he’s ever had in his life, sweet and close. Love should probably be scarier, but nothing has ever been scary with Baekhyun. “Can you blame me?”
“Nope, since I’m a little in love too,” Baekhyun is dazzling, and Jongdae can’t do anything but pull him in closer by his hair, press kisses to his mouth and cheeks and nose and chin until they’re rolling around again, artificial stars twinkling down on them.
“Does this mean you’ll be my boy, Hyun?” Jongdae’s nose brushes against Baekhyun’s, legs tangled up, and it’s so goddamn cute Jongdae doesn’t know how he’s supposed to stop himself from exploding. “Will you go steady with me?”
“Shut up, you’re so lame,” Baekhyun is iridescent, and Jongdae lets Baekhyun pull him up anyway, lets him spin them around and dip him, almost falling back to the ground tripping over each others feet in the dark. Naturally their shared brain thinks of the same stupid wooing ideas, and Jongdae practically swoons. “Of course. But only if you let me wear your jersey again. And find me your class ring, we can have matching necklaces and it’ll be adorable. And super gay.”
“Yeah it’s a real touchdown. Homerun. Whatever,” Jongdae doesn’t want a superior sports argument when he just wants to take Baekhyun home and makeout against his door like they’ve always been destined to. Or makeout against Baekhyun’s door, he’s flexible. And he knows Baekhyun is flexible too, which he is really interested in testing the limits of.
“And you say I’m the dumb one,” Baekhyun snorts, but still tangles their fingers together as he turns everything off, dragging Jongdae outside and biting back a smile when Jongdae lifts their hands to his lips and kisses each knuckle. “This is disgusting.”
“I know, it’s awesome,” Jongdae’s smile threatens to split his face, and he uses a free hand to coax Baekhyun into a fist bump, because this is arguably the most awesome thing to ever happen to him. He wonders if he can convince Kyungsoo to give him a cut of his winnings since he and Baekhyun are going to be together forever now. “Now let’s go home so you can get a homerun. And a touchdown. A hole in one--”
“Jongdae, please shut up,” Baekhyun is smiling while he says it, and Jongdae keeps his mouth open just so Baekhyun will shut him up with a kiss under the real stars, slow and curling heat in his stomach that spreads all through his body, breath stolen. And from the way the stars reflect in Baekhyun’s eyes, he’s can say with the utmost confidence that he feels the same.
Later, Jongdae falls asleep to the sound of Baekhyun’s heart and the stars shining through their shitty curtains, and thinks that yeah, this is definitely what hopes and dreams and rainbows are made of.