Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chanyeol wasn't, by any definition of the term, what you would call an impulsive person. He liked the precision that came with plans, with knowing what was going to happen next, with studying a music sheet until he knew it like the back of his hand, until he could hear the music coming together and coursing through his veins as if it belonged there.

So, all things considered, this was a pretty impulsive decision on his part. Meaning, he had only thought about it for a week and a half, spent a couple of hours doing his research, and hadn't even called Kyungsoo for a second opinion.

He was proud of himself, if he could say so.

It only hit him once he crossed the glass door, bell clinking over his head, that he didn't actually know what he was doing.

A bored looking guy sat by the counter flipping a magazine, pausing to look at Chanyeol when he came in in a way that made him think that he was the most interesting thing that had happened to him all day.

"Hey there! Can I help you?"

"Hi. Yes. I would like a tattoo, please."

----

Chanyeol, 27, was pretty happy with his life. He was the conductor of the juvenile chamber orchestra at his former college, a job he adored, surrounded by kids full of dreams and potential he could help them unlock. He had friends and nephews, and his music and hobbies. He was fine, really.

So he didn't know why he was feeling so restless, something about the past couple of weeks feeling like an itch he couldn't scratch.

He kept telling himself it was just the unwanted self-consciousness that came with running into his ex at the supermarket, of listening to her talk excitedly about everything she'd done since they'd last seen each other in college, of touring Europe with an orchestra and starting a family and growing as a musician. In comparison, Chanyeol didn't have much to show for himself.

----

Chanyeol could see the guy trying to suppress an eye-roll, and probably a sarcastic remark. It was, in fact, a tattoo shop. What else could he be looking for in there?

"You're in the right place, then. Did you have an appointment?"

Chanyeol shook his head, reaching up to ruffle his hair and grimacing at the sweat sticking it to his forehead. It was terribly hot outside, humid and suffocating, way too much for the end of the summer. Chanyeol was already dreading going back to school and having to get into more formal appeals. Even if he had missed his kids all summer.

He cleared his throat, "I, uh, read that you take walk-ins? In your website, I mean."

The guy nodded, a smile playing on his lips. He was cute, in a way that shouldn't fit with a tattoo shop, but somehow did. He then introduced himself as Minseok, explaining that he actually wasn't one of the artists, and asking him to wait for him to go get them.

Chanyeol stood in the small waiting area, taking the time to look around himself. He'd picked this place because it was close to his house, had good reviews and looked clean enough. With no prior experience, he guessed he'd chosen as well as he could. All across the walls hang framed photos of what Chanyeol assumed were past clients, all in varied shades of black and gray. Chanyeol had never really paid attention to tattoos, hadn't actually thought he'd get one himself, but, leaning closer to study the intricate details on one of the photos near him, he couldn't help but be impressed.

He looked up when he heard the door behind the counter opening again, straightening when, out of the door, came the most beautiful person Chanyeol had ever seen. He felt the need to put on his glasses to look at him better, in true high definition, even if he knew for a fact that he'd put on his contacts this morning. He looked like a walking work of art, both his arms covered in intricate but distinctive designs Chanyeol suddenly wanted to trace, figure out and memorize, and the side of his neck covered by the prettiest flowers he’d ever seen, ones that seemed to fit the man in front of him perfectly.

“Hi! You must be Chanyeol?” the guy says, discreetly (well, not that discreetly, considering Chanyeol, of all people, noticed right away) checking him out. Chanyeol wasn’t one to judge, tho, seeing as he had a hard time taking his eyes away from him and was pretty sure the only thing that came out of his mouth was some sort of unintelligible croak. First impressions weren’t really his thing.

The guy introduced himself, although Chanyeol had been too distracted by his everything to actually catch his name. Which was a shame, really.

“So, did you have a design in mind, or do you want me to draw something for you?”

Chanyeol took the small piece of paper he’d put in his pocket before leaving his house, hesitating for a moment before handing it to him. That was another reason why he was so nervous about this whole situation, besides the needles and the pain and the whole unknown situation. He knew what he wanted his tattoo to represent, knew why he wanted it carved into his skin. And he’d done his best, with his terribly limited design abilities and the help from the internet, but he wasn’t sure it reflected everything he felt.

The tattoo artist took it, shooting him an encouraging smile before looking down to the paper. Chanyeol saw his smile freeze, face paling slightly before he clamped his mouth shut. A moment went by as Chanyeol watched a multitude of expressions briefly cross the other’s face, ranging from amusement to pure disgust. While Chanyeol busied himself by fiddling with his hands over the counter, his eyes were drawn to the pair of small cardholders full of business cards. Picking one, he admired the beautiful design with the shop’s name, turning it to find the inscription ‘Byun Baekhyun ~ graphic designer, tattoo artist, owner’ and a series of social networks. The other one was similar, although the art in front was in a different style and the name in the back was Kim Jongdae. Chanyeol wondered which one was the one in front of him, and he looked up at him to find him still gaping at his design. Right.

Finally, the guy swallowed, opening his mouth and closing it again.

“I… take you like music?”

Just before Chanyeol could explode from embarrassment or book a flight to New Zealand, the door behind the counter opened again and out of it came another guy, ruffling his hair and looking like he’d just woken up. He came up behind the first guy, smiling politely at Chanyeol before looking down at the paper still in the other’s hand.

“What the fuck is that?”

In Chanyeol’s defense, he had known his design wasn’t all that pretty before entering the shop, but that reality had become more apparent the more he looked at the art all around him.

----

It had seemed like a nice idea, branding the most important thing in his life into his skin. He hadn’t given too much thought about how it’d actually look, as for him tattoos had always been something more on the sentimental side than the artistic one. Who cared what the ink in your skin looked like, if you’d gotten it as a confirmation of how much something meant to you?

So, he’d kept it simple. The word ‘music’, in a clean, fun font like Comic Sans was, with a treble clef instead of the ‘s’, and a baton instead of the ‘i’, with lots of musical notes dancing around. It was cute, in his opinion.

----

The first tattoo guy elbowed the other in the stomach lightly, blinking before tearing his eyes away from the paper, “Dae, don’t be rude.”

“I’m not being rude, Baek. I’m just telling our customer that we, as a business, refuse to tattoo something as ugly as that. Because of like… artistic integrity.”

“Did your child draw this?” ‘Baek’ asked, ignoring his friend and trying to mold his grimace into a sympathetic smile.

Chanyeol wanted the earth to swallow him whole, debating lying for a moment before shaking his head.

“Oh.”

Silence.

“Well then. How attached are you to this design?”

----

Once the terribly awkward moment had passed, and ‘Dae’ had gone to the other side of the studio per his partner’s request, Baekhyun had gently led him to one of the tables that lined the wall opposite them.

“What is it that you love so much about music?” he asked, surreptitiously putting away Chanyeol’s design.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you don’t strike me as someone who’d tattoo just about anything on their skin. Is there a reason in particular why you want this tattoo?”

“Well. I mean I love music? And I want my love for it to show, to be in my body forever.”

“Anything apart from love? Do you work with music?”

“Oh, I’m- yeah. I’m a conductor at a college’s orchestra. And a music teacher on the side, too.”

“Ohh, do you like teaching?” Baekhyun asked, smiling in a way that made Chanyeol have to look away to be able to answer.

“I do,” he sighed wistfully, “But I love conducting more.”

Baekhyun hummed, “Conducting… do you play any instruments as well?”

At that Chanyeol winced internally, making the split decision that his tattoo artist didn’t need or want to hear his whole life story, “I… played the violin for years? Now it’s mostly the guitar on my free time.”

Baekhyun nodded, seeming deep in thought, and grabbed a piece of paper from one of the drawers, beginning to doodle in the corner, “I don’t know if you know but we specialize in black and white tattoos. We can do color if you insist, but…”

“Oh, black is fine. I guess it’s more… subtle?”

“Good choice,” Baekhyun smiled. “Now, tell me. Do you think tattoos are an art form?”

“I... what? I mean, I guess?”

“Let’s try another way. You are a musician, right? A conductor?” Chanyeol nodded, “So, I’m assuming you believe music is an art.”

Another nod.

“Well, then. Then you know the difference between a badly executed piece and one played expertly by someone who loves their craft and knows what they’re doing. And how the opposite is true as well, no great musician can make a terrible piece sound nice, even with all the dedication in the world.”

Chanyeol was starting to see where this was going, but about three-quarters of his brain were stuck on just how nice the man in front of him thought, how he managed to put those thoughts into beautiful words even as his attention was focused on the piece of paper in front of him.

“And I’m sorry to tell you, but the design you brought is a terrible piece of art, and I doubt it actually captures the love you seem to have for your music. So, let me make it better, okay?”

At that, he finally looked up, smile widening at Chanyeol’s probably starstruck expression, and he looked so, so soft Chanyeol sort of wanted to bury his face in his hair. Sort of.

----

Baekhyun started to draw in earnest then, fingers moving confidently in a way Chanyeol knew was a clear indicator of hundreds, if not thousands, of hours of practice. Chanyeol took this chance to study his face, blank with concentration, eyes focused and following the lines his hand was tracing. He stared unashamedly for a couple of minutes, until Baekhyun raised his eyes and caught him staring dumbly at him. He was quick to tear his eyes away, intent on preserving what little dignity he still had left.

That small sliver of dignity wouldn’t last much longer, though. Because this was actually going to happen. He’d have needles pinching his skin and inserting ink and he’d have whatever design he ended up putting there forever. And did he mention the needles already? Chanyeol cried when getting his flu shot, what was he thinking, getting a tattoo? Baekhyun would turn on his tattoo machine thingie and Chanyeol would die there and it would be the most embarrassing moment in his life. He wanted to run away, or throw up, or both.

“What do you think about something like this? You can change whatever you want, no matter how big or small. Just let me know”.

Chanyeol paused, momentarily distracted from his building panic. Baekhyun had moved to the laptop on the other side of the room for a couple of minutes, pulling up a couple of searches before returning to his desk, hands moving rapidly and with even more purpose than before. Until they stopped.

Chanyeol made himself focus on the paper Baekhyun had slid his way, eyes immediately stuck in it. There, a treble clef fused into what was unmistakably a string instrument. He followed the clean lines with his eyes, stopping himself from touching the paper with his hand.

“You can look at it like a violin or a guitar, depending on how you’re looking. And who’s looking,” Chanyeol could feel Baekhyun’s eyes on him, gauging his reaction.

One half of the design had hard, defined curves, those of a violin, while the other side was softer, comfortable in a way the other side wasn’t. A guitar, then. And it was beautiful, so so beautiful and simple and musical, and everything Chanyeol had been looking for.

“Thank you,” Baekhyun mumbled, scratching the back of his neck, and only then did Chanyeol realize that, in his daze, he’d expressed his admiration out loud.

“I want this one. I don’t want to change a thing,” he said, feeling more sure about his decision than he’d ever been.

“Are you sure? I won’t be offended or anything.”

“It’s perfect. I mean it,” clearing his throat, he attempted a smile, waving away the weird solemnity that had taking over his voice, “Besides, it’s much better than my design.”

Baekhyun snorted in a way that would have been unattractive in any other person in the world.

“Okay then. Do you want me to tattoo you? Or Jongdae? Not to be biased but I would recommend him if it’s your first time,” he winked as Jongdae came out of the backroom.

“You want me to do it?”

“It’s up to Chanyeol, Dae.”

Chanyeol frowned. He actually wanted Baekhyun to be the one to tattoo him, but on second thought, maybe, if he could not make a complete fool of himself in front of him, he’d actually have a chance if he dared to ask him out later on. Which he knew would be impossible if Baekhyun saw what he became at the thought of a needle in his arm.

“I- I guess Jongdae is fine?” Jongdae smiled at him, weirdly feline.

“Good choice,” he said, before leading him to the reception as Baekhyun stayed back to place the design on tracing paper.

----

Next thing Chanyeol knew, he was seated in a comfortable chair with Jongdae transferring Baekhyun’s design to the inner side of his bicep, making a few adjustments with a marker.

“So, this is how it’s going to look,” Jongdae said, pulling away and handing him a mirror, “Any changes? It’s your last chance, don’t spare my feelings,” he joked.

Chanyeol shook his head without taking his eyes off the design. “No, it’s perfect. I love it.”

“Awesome. Hey, sweetheart! Where’s my gun? I thought you said you’d left it here?” he yelled over his shoulder.

“I think I left it at Sehunnie’s station,” Baekhyun said, coming back into the room and turning to look around another table. A couple of moments later he made a sound of triumph, handing Jongdae the gun, “You’re welcome, honeybunch.”

Jongdae rolled his eyes with a smile, connecting the device and getting everything else ready.

Chanyeol, meanwhile, was trying not to freak out. Sweetheart? Honeybunch? Everything clicked in his head. Jongdae and Baekhyun weren’t just business partners, they were a couple and they had a successful business together and they loved each other and they were happy and Chanyeol had been wanting to kiss Baekhyun for over an hour now and he must have been very obvious and his boyfriend was now going to stick a needle in his arm.

“You ready, big guy?” Jongdae said, testing his machine.

“It’s Chanyeol,” he corrected, tone a little bit more defensive and hostile than needed.

Jongdae laughed again (Chanyeol didn’t know what he found so funny, but he guessed that was better than offending him), and shrugged, “Ok, Chanyeol. Ready?”

Before he could open his mouth again, the loud buzzing reached his ears and the gun approached his skin, which made Chanyeol first freeze and then jerk his arm away.

“Wait! Aren’t we gonna do like… a countdown?”

Jongdae nodded, looking a little bit frazzled by his sudden movement. Chanyeol returned to his original position, pointedly avoiding Baekhyun’s amused glance and taking a deep breath. He was ready.

Only that he wasn’t, because the same thing happened again. Five times. Until Jongdae put his gun down and sighed.

“Are you sure you want this tattoo? No one’s forcing you to get it, you know that, right?”

Chanyeol nodded, already lightheaded from the stress, “I’m very sure. I just- need you to count down slower. Please?”

Baekhyun giggled again, and Chanyeol could feel himself blushing. At least now that he knew that Baekhyun and Jongdae were dating he wasn’t as worried about Baekhyun’s opinion of him. But he was still terribly embarrassed.

“Don’t look at the needle, okay?” he said, walking around Jongdae and sitting in the small stool beside Chanyeol’s free arm, “Why don’t we talk for a while?”

“It’s okay to be scared. Lots of clients come here freaking out, and everything turns out well in the end.”

“I’m not scared,” Chanyeol said. You know, like a liar, “I’m just… apprehensive.”

“That’s ok. In a couple of weeks, it’ll be healed completely and it’ll look gorgeous and won’t hurt anymore and you’ll be so glad you conquered your fear. You’ll see.”

Chanyeol allowed his eyes to study Baekhyun’s face, his amused but soft eyes, his clear skin, such a contrast to the rest of his visible body. He looked so calm, so in his element.

“Here,” he said, extending his hand, “You can hold it and squeeze it whenever you need to while we talk, ok?”

Chanyeol took the offered hand slowly, hoping his wasn’t as sweaty and gross as he felt it was.

“Ready?” he heard him ask softly, tightening his grip reassuringly. Chanyeol took a shaky breath, closing his eyes before nodding tightly.

The first time the gun touched his skin, he felt all his blood leave his hands. The pain was different from anything he’d ever experience before, the vibrations making him feel like Jongdae was sewing his skin.

“That’s it, you’re doing great.” Baekhyun mumbled, running his thumb across his knuckles, “Now, tell me. What’s your favorite artist.”

Chanyeol felt dizzy already, but he made a valiant effort to focus on his question, “Mozart has my favorite compositions, but,” he forced a breath in, “I like playing Vivaldi more.”

Baekhyun laughed, and it felt too much like a salve for Chanyeol’s frayed nerves, “Do you only listen to classical music?”

“Mostly, I guess,” he did listen to other genres, but not as consistently.

“My favorite artist is Epik High,” Baekhyun said after a moment, just when Chanyeol’s attention was drifting back to the pain.

“That’s,” he paused, trying to remember through his jumbled thoughts, “a rapper?”

“A group. I’ve been following them since forever. Been going to their presentations since high school,” Chanyeol heard Jongdae chuckle at the comment, and he was sharply reminded of his presence.

“Mine,” he attempted a smile, “have been dead for a long time so I can’t relate.”

Baekhyun laughed again, that healing laughter of his, “You don’t listen to pop, then?”

“Not really? But my kids do and they make me listen to their favorites sometimes. But I only really listen to classical and rock. Mostly old rock?”

Breathing was getting easier, and he was glad he could focus his attention more on the beautiful guy beside him, being able to notice his pensive expression as he said, “Is it too mainstream if I say I only know of Queen?”

“A little. I love Queen, tho,” he said, closing his eyes as Jongdae moved to another section of his arm and the pain came back full force.

“And do you sing?”

“Not a lot. Just to my students. The little ones.”

“How old are they?”

“The youngest, around 5 to 8.”

“Aww, they must be really cute. Do you like being a teacher? Why isn’t your tattoo more about that?” he asked, sounding genuinely interested in his answer.

“Music is-” he attempted to gesture, dropping it when he realized both his arms were busy. “Everything. The love of my life.” Baekhyun smiled, looking so soft. Chanyeol focused on the hand not holding his, resting under his chin. It looked delicate and blindingly white in contrast to the tattoos on the rest of his arm.

“What is yours?” he asked, wanting to get rid once and for all of the doubt of whether the guy who was currently stabbing his skin repeatedly was the love of his crush’s life.

“Art, obviously.”

“Music is art, too.”

“It is. We have a lot in common, it seems.”

“I thought I was the love of your life, pumpkin,” Jongdae interrupted, pouting and bursting Chanyeol’s happy bubble with amazing ease.

“Of course you are, cupcake,” Baekhyun smirked, turning to his tattoo in-progress. It was only then that Chanyeol noticed that Jongdae had stopped working, stretching his hand for a moment, “Oh, it’s coming along great.”

Chanyeol finally turned to look and the feeling of rightness that he felt when he first saw the design came back full force. Granted, it was still halfway done, but even through the redness of his skin he could tell it would look great.

Jongdae soon got back to work, and Chanyeol spared him a glance, wondering at the lack of tattoos decorating his skin and admiring the many piercings on his face before turning back to Baekhyun. Talking to him about art and music and distracting himself on thoughts of how gorgeous he looked, the time to let go of his hand came all too soon.

He pulled away reluctantly, turning to look at where Jongdae was finishing cleaning his tattoo.

“It’s really beautiful. Thank you,” he said sincerely, looking at Jongdae’s proud smile, “You’re really good.”

Jongdae laughed, “Of course I am. My best canvass is sitting right beside you,” he said, pointing to Baekhyun, who extended his arms with a flourish.

His tattoos were really something else. Each arm was almost completely covered, each with a distinctive style but matching perfectly. His left arm was strong lines and precise designs, Chanyeol could identify some as traditional Korean patterns, symbols of strength and resilience. The right one was more fluid, more artistic somehow, filled with stars and constellations, koi fishes and dragons tangling together in a way that should have been messy but instead was intriguing. From his shoulders, Chanyeol could see flowers coming through, disappearing into his back. He would give anything to see every tattoo up close, to know their stories.

But Baekhyun let his arms drop and winked exaggeratedly at Chanyeol, turning back to Jongdae before yelling a dramatic, “Well, thank you sugarplum!”

Jongdae laughed and pushed him off slightly, making disgusted faces as Baekhyun made kissy faces and threw hearts his way.

Once his tattoo was properly wrapped, Chanyeol paid for it and thanked both Baekhyun and Jongdae. It was weird, leaving. He sincerely hoped to see them again, but as he left he saw a couple of clients making their way in, being welcomed by the same smiles that had greeted him a couple of hours earlier.

For Chanyeol, those couple of hours had felt monumental, he’d conquered one of his biggest fears, had left with a beautiful tattoo designed by one of the most beautiful guys he’d ever seen. Had had his heart slightly broken by the impossibility to be with that person. He wasn’t as important for his new crush as he was for him, and he was well aware of that. It didn’t matter, though. They’d probably never meet again. They belonged to different worlds, different circles. At least, Baekhyun and Jongdae were together, had each other and were happy. And Chanyeol had to move on.

----

Chanyeol woke up bright and early on the first day of school, fixing himself some breakfast, intending to pretend that he was a fully functional adult for at least the first couple of weeks. When he was a student, he had always assumed that people who worked at colleges, like professors and instructors, had their lives together, that they were wise and woke up early and ran a couple of miles before eating a balanced, high fiber breakfast and driving to work listening to award-winning podcasts. Or something. And he knew some did, but he'd known Kyungsoo since high school and could testify that his ability to be such a grown-up was something that he'd had since he was 14 and not some sort of academically acquired maturity.

After parking his bike in the faculty parking lot, he allowed himself to splurge for the very overpriced, pretty overrated coffee he knew Junmyeon loved, stopping by his office to say hi before students swarmed them and they wouldn't be able to see each other for at least a couple of weeks.

----

Chanyeol had never pictured himself as a member of the faculty, honestly. Kyungsoo had always had a knack for mentorship, and the personality to go with it, so he hadn't been surprised when he'd gone the full graduate-school-while-being-TA route. Junmyeon had been their RA while completing his undergraduate —back when Chanyeol and Kyungsoo had been wide-eyed freshmen— and had gone to work for the school's administration after graduation.

Chanyeol, though, hadn't majored in music with an intention to teach it, just perform it. He had had a pretty defined idea of what wanted to do after college, and still being there more than half a decade after graduation hadn't been in his plans. At all.

But, of course, things didn't always work out according to one's plans. Offers had been thrown at his feet the way his professors had led him to believe, but no one had explained just how grueling and demoralizing that work could be, how most people didn’t actually want him to be himself, and he soon found himself looking for more realistic job opportunities.

He'd began working at a primary school as a music teacher, every morning for a few hours, and he still worked there, nowadays more like a side job than anything, on the mornings without orchestra practice. Working with children was fun, even if he didn't feel the same level of fulfillment he felt while working with his older kids.

When he had heard one of his former professors was looking for an assistant conductor for the school's ensemble, he'd jumped right in. He had minored in conducting, after all. And in being there, in conducting again, he'd found something resembling his passion for performance. When the older man had retired merely a year later, he'd taken over the position himself.

And he'd settled, even if he didn't like to see it that way. He had a comfortable life, he loved working close to his two best friends, he loved his kids, he loved his job. It was just really different from what he'd pictured himself doing.

----

Junmyeon's office was on the way to his practice room, and he was positive his friend would be there already. The overpriced coffee was worth it just to see the way Junmyeon's eyes lit up as if Chanyeol had given him everything he'd ever wanted in life. They chat for a while, catching up on everything that had happened since they'd last seen each other (which, admittedly, wasn't a lot, considering they rarely spent a week without meeting one way or another). Their conversation was cut short by what seemed like a nervous freshman knocking on Junmyeon's open door.

Chanyeol was already making his way out of the room when Junmyeon stopped him, "Hey, we'll probably need to have an official meeting soon. Either by the end of the week or the beginning of next. So make sure to check your email." Chanyeol raised his eyebrows, making his friend smile at him and dismiss him with a wave, "You'll find out soon enough, we're still deciding stuff. Now, go. Your kids are waiting."

Chanyeol saluted, finally heading towards his practice room.

Today would be the first official day of three of his kids, who'd passed their auditions while still in high school and were now freshmen. They'd already sat in a couple of rehearsals and seemed to get along well with the rest, so he wasn't really worried about them. It was important, for him, to make sure all his students were comfortable at the orchestra.

Chanyeol had, since taking over the orchestra four years ago, always made a point to be as inclusive as possible. He knew he still had a long way to go, and that his attempts weren’t perfect, but being a non-straight musician in a country and industry that seemed to perpetuate gender and sexuality stereotypes under the guise of formality had been a huge weight on his shoulders while studying, and he wanted his kids to find a safe haven in his classroom for as long as they could. So, he had an actually fair gender ratio —something that was nauseatingly rare when it came to actual professional orchestras— and made sure his kids knew they were free to date or not date whoever they wanted.

His practice room was on the smaller side, but it was quite enough for the roughly twenty students he usually had, with some room to spare to relax after rehearsals. They usually did morning rehearsals twice a week for a couple of hours, and an evening one once a week. Despite hating mornings, Chanyeol loved the early morning ones the best. The practice room was directly in the path of sunrise, making for lighting the school's photographer would die for, and his kids were still mostly asleep and quiet. College was hard, and being at school at 9 am for rehearsals was solid proof of how much they actually enjoyed his lessons.

He stood by the door for a moment, watching his musicians before they noticed him. Chenle and Jisung, two of his new kids, were apparently getting along great with his string quartet, and the other one, Daehwi, was talking animatedly with Yerim and a giggling Chaeyoung. Jinyoung seemed to be asleep against Jihoon's shoulder while the latter chatted quietly with Tzuyu, while Donghyuck, Momo, and Haknyeon were making as much noise as they physically could without their instruments.

Chanyeol sighed, smiling before clapping his hands and entering the room.

----

"What do you mean a solo?"

"Just that, they want you to perform a short-ish violin solo, just a couple of minutes long, don't fret too much."

"Jun, if what they want is a violin solo you know Mark would be thrilled. Jaemin too-"

"They don’t want a violin solo, they want you performing a violin solo."

"That doesn’t even make any sense! Why would they want me up there when the orchestra is performing already? I’m not even a student! Not even an official professor either!"

Junmyeon sighed, like he was getting annoyed at him. Good, the feeling was mutual, “But you are a distinguished alumnus, and that’s like half the event, you know.”

Chanyeol scoffed. Distinguished. Yeah right.

Junmyeon had effectively called him to his office a couple of days into the term, proceeding to inform him that the school was planning a grand event in celebration of its 80th anniversary. It was going to be truly grand, Junmyeon explained, obviously excited. The board of administration was going all out in the planning, taking this as a chance to boast about their current and past students. He'd been delighted when Junmyeon had first mentioned the key role his little orchestra would be playing, possible setlists running around his mind and practically vibrating with the need to go tell his kids and share the news. But then he'd gone to explain the alumni portion of the evening, how they wanted him to collaborate with a dancer that had graduated a couple of years after him and with a graphic designer, making some sort of multimedia experience showcasing the graduates' unique talents. And Chanyeol was panicking.

Which brought Chanyeol to this moment.

"Jun, you know I haven’t played in front of anyone in... a while. I don’t even know if I still can."

Junmyeon’s eyes softened at that “I know. But don’t you think it’s time to get back to it already?” He let the question hang heavy over them for a moment, “Besides, if this event ends up being of the magnitude they want it to be, lots of important people are going to be there. This could be your chance, Yeol.”

And it could, he knew this could actually be the push forward his career needed. Which made this all the more terrifying.

----

Chanyeol was still skeptical about the whole event thing by the time the first meeting came up. Sat in the school's auditorium, surrounded by his kids and dozens of people he’d never seen before, he listened to different members of the university’s committee go on and on about how an amazing showcasing and networking opportunity the event was.

Junmyeon had already told him pretty much everything that he needed to know, so he allowed himself to space out until the meeting was over and almost everyone started leaving.

He turned to Tzuyu, sitting on his right, who’d been taking notes of what was being said the whole time, smiling sheepishly when she met his eye and rolled hers, passing over her notebook.

Apparently, Chanyeol and the orchestra would be one of the main acts, but their performance would be amongst many other students and graduates. Luckily, they didn’t need to practice with them or anything, although they had recommended they worked closely with one of the dance teams that would perform too, and Chanyeol recognized one of the names as the one Junmyeon had mentioned during their meeting.

He returned the notebook to his student with a mumbled thanks, but was stopped with a hand on his other arm when he started standing up. With a mischievous smile that told him none of his kids thought he’d listened to a word they’d said during the meeting, Haknyeon told him a member of the committee had asked them and the groups they’d work closely together with to stay behind to meet each other and flesh out details of their collaboration.

Chanyeol suppressed a groan as the auditorium emptied out, until they were called to the front stage by the remaining directive. From what he’d gathered on his way to the front, not that many people were there other than them. Besides him and his orchestra, and the committee member and Junmyeon, who’d stayed behind in silent support to Chanyeol, there was a handful of students his kids’ age, which Chanyeol assumed were the dancers, led by a man closer to his age in front of them. From his half-hearted googling when Junmyeon had first spoken to him almost a month ago, he could identify him as Kim Jongin, professional dancer and sort of mentor of the school’s dance team, and the guy Chanyeol would be performing with.

There were some other stragglers at the back, and Chanyeol ran his eye over them, catching something familiar before his attention was called to the front when the meeting’s organizer started talking again.

It was brief enough that Chanyeol hadn’t allowed his mind to wander before the committee member and Junmyeon left, the latter with a discrete look to his friend that years of friendship had taught him meant “Don’t screw up. Socialize a little. Have fun. Talk to me later.” Yeah, Junmyeon had very expressive eyes.

People had started to disperse again, his kids chatting quietly (for them) amongst themselves as Chanyeol was bracing himself for introductions and looking like he was excited about this event when-

“Park Chanyeol,” he heard a voice behind him, and even if he couldn’t place it instantly he felt butterflies appear in his stomach before he did. His kids had fallen silent, having an almost preternatural sense when it came to their instructor about when something was about to happen that they could tease him about later.

Taking a stuttering breath, he turned around, making eye contact with the exact person he had thought he would see.

“Baekhyun,” he breathed.

“Funny meeting you here,” he said, blinding smile spreading over his face that had the butterflies in Chanyeol’s stomach planning a riot, “I had thought I’d have to make up some excuse to search your phone number in our database.”

He was still smiling and flirting and wearing a sleeveless shirt that left his tattoos on display and made him feel like crying and Chanyeol felt about twenty pairs of eyes fixed on his burning face.

“I-”

“Oh, Nini, come here and I’ll introduce you too,” Baekhyun said, gesturing to the Jongin guy he’d seen before, who Chanyeol felt relieved to realize looked almost as uncomfortable as Chanyeol had felt all evening.

“He’s so hot,” Chanyeol heard Dahyun whisper (rather loudly, if you asked him) somewhere behind him.

“That Baekhyun guy is also hot,” a voice that sounded distinctly like Jaemin’s piped from beside her, “Why is everyone so hot?”

“Global warming,” Momo added, and the whole group burst into poorly repressed groans. They were lucky Chanyeol loved them or he’d have to kill them.

Jongin bowed slightly when he stood in front of Chanyeol, smiling shyly through Baekhyun’s introduction.

After formalities about the work they’d be doing together and exchanging numbers for communicating outside of the school’s tedious email system, Chanyeol, in an attempt to look like someone who socialized with people his age regularly and wasn’t mostly surrounded by either young adults who were still almost teenagers or children that didn’t know how to write yet, asked,

“So, how do you two know each other?”

Baekhyun took the chance to answer, and well. Chanyeol wouldn’t pass a chance to stare at him when he had an excuse to do so, “Jonginnie and I studied here together. Granted, he’s a couple of years younger than me and our majors are completely out of the way from each other but our social circle practically overlapped.”

Jongin nodded, seeming to make a spur of the moment decision before adding, “Baekhyun works with my boyfriend, too, so we’ve all kept in touch.”

“Oh, yes! You didn’t get to meet Sehunnie, right? He works at the studio, too. He couldn’t come today but will probably sit around here a lot if Jongin is going to be doing semi-open practices,” he added with mirth in his eyes as Jongin turned a pretty shade of red, “But you do remember Jongdae, right? We couldn’t leave the shop unattended so it’s just me participating in this, but he studied here too. He’ll probably show up sometimes, if he can. You know, for moral support.”

Chanyeol’s heart fell a little at Jongdae’s mention, being promptly reminded that Baekhyun was, in fact, not flirting with him, because he was happily in a relationship and Chanyeol shouldn’t even be thinking about those sorts of things.

“What about you, hyung? How did you guys meet?”

Chanyeol was about to answer, mindful of the group of gossipy kids behind him, when Baekhyun beat him to it, “Oh, Chanyeol came to the studio some time ago. I’m his tattoo artist.”

The room was silent for a moment and Chanyeol took the chance to close his eyes, counting down from five as he tried to brace himself for what he knew was coming. He hadn’t reached three when a shout made him turn around.

“YOU HAVE A TATTOO?” Renjun, of all people, shrieked. Jeno, right beside him, was looking at Chanyeol like he’d grown a third arm, eyes wide open and mouth hanging. Chaeyoung was shaking Soyeon by the arm, and even Chenle, Daehwi, and Jisung were alternating between laughing disbelievingly and just screaming questions at him with the rest of the group. He was glad they’d integrated well and felt comfortable enough to joke around with him but. At what cost?

“Can we see it? Can we please see it?” Donghyuck was begging by the time Chanyeol’s brain decided to clock back in.

“It’s not really somewhere you can access easily,” Baekhyun piped in with a wink, and Chanyeol was grateful for his intervention for all of two seconds before what he’d said registered in both his and his kids’ brains at the same time. Noise erupted again, this time even worse than before, as Chanyeol rushed to wave his arms around, “It’s in the arm! The arm!”

Chanyeol’s arm was currently pretty inaccessible, what with his dress shirt and cardigan in the way, but the way Baekhyun was doubled over in laughter made him think he’d wanted it to sound exactly like it did and that his kids had delivered with their reaction.

“So,” Baekhyun said when he managed to stop laughing at Chanyeol’s expense, catching his breath, “these must be your kids then. I can see why you love them so much.”

Chanyeol was just so done with this conversation. He could practically feel the kids vibrating behind him in amusement and need to tease him (which, if he was lucky, would wait until their private rehearsal the following day). They looked pleased, tho, almost preening at the thought of Chanyeol talking about them with his tattoo artist. Chanyeol rolled his eyes, waving a hand dismissively when someone cooed at him.

“Meeting is over, go home,” he said, sighing when none of them moved, “Come on, we’ll all leave. Grab your stuff.”

The group grumbled a little but were quick to look for their school bags and leave in groups, making plans to eat or study together. Chanyeol ignored Baekhyun’s eyes on him while he pretended to check his phone, as the latter said his goodbyes to Jongin. Chanyeol looked up when Jongin called his name, promising to contact him soon to arrange rehearsals, and then he and Baekhyun were alone in the room.

They made their way back outside in silence, and Chanyeol was pleased to find that, despite Baekhyun apparently never shutting up voluntarily, the silence was not uncomfortable.

“You never told me what your place is in the whole event thing, after everything.”

“I didn’t? Oh, I guess you’re right. It’s sort of... and administrative thing. Masked as a design thing, because they knew I wouldn’t have agreed otherwise. I’m supposed to design the graphics for the event and also like. Contact former students to see if they want to come or contribute or donate and look for potential investors. Business minor, you know.”

Chanyeol didn’t, really.

“So you’ll be working from the shop?”

“I was planning to,” Baekhyun smiled, and Chanyeol distantly wondered if it’d make him feel the way it did every single time, “Now I’m not so sure anymore. It might help to do it while sitting in on your rehearsals, right? Get the creativity flowing and all that stuff,” he paused when they reached the street, “I mean. If you agree with me being there, that is.”

It took a moment for Chanyeol to hear the masked question, but then he found himself nodding wordlessly, and Baekhyun’s smile turned even brighter.

“Great then! I’ll guess we’ll see a lot of each other from now on, then.”

And with a wave of his hand, he was gone, leaving Chanyeol behind, wondering what on earth had he gotten himself into.

----

When he’d first told the rest of the orchestra about the event, just a few days before the general meeting, he hadn’t expected so much enthusiasm. The kids were all talking over each other, marveling at the fact that their generally pretty stingy school would be going all out and spending so much money and effort in this, ecstatic about being able to perform in front of a huge crowd (they did small concerts. Sometimes. Mostly family and friends, sometimes for the community. But this was just a whole other level) and jittery about the prospect of one of the pieces they’d play being the music for a dance routine and just. Happy in general.

When Chanyeol had reluctantly told them about his own part of the evening, about playing the violin in front of an audience after all this time (and how nervous it made him, he didn’t have to say that for them to know), he hadn’t expected —but maybe he should have— the outburst of support he would immediately receive. Mark, his first violin, looked like he had stars in his eyes when he asked him if he already knew what he’d be playing, with Mina right behind him in asking if they could watch him rehearse, too. If they could help in any way. Chanyeol had gotten choked up at that, answering with a garble and hand gesture that they interpreted to mean a group hug was in order. It hadn’t, really, but Chanyeol was glad when they did, glad to be surrounded by one of the things he considered family.

----

At first, it was a challenge. Chanyeol was used to his own space, to the quietness of their practice room, the cramped space and the way the music bounced on the walls. To being just them. And all of a sudden, one third of his rehearsals were held in the auditorium, in an enormous stage he could only have half of, attempting to block out the mumbled eight counts of the dancers right next to them, the way the floor vibrated with their steps, the way he could feel Baekhyun’s eyes on the back of his head when he was turned away.

His kids were thrilled, obviously. Had been thrilled since the announcement. Other than the fact that their participation in the event was a pretty big opportunity for all of them, and wanting to do well, they were still college students, and they were happy with the change of routine, with having public that wasn’t the other members and, especially, with being able to be nosy and figure things out about Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s non existent relationship.

He complained about it to Kyungsoo one Sunday evening, one of the few times his best friend could make room for him. He was busy, with work and his masters and his TA position, and Chanyeol would never resent him for it, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t miss him.

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you. Do you want to hear that you brought this onto yourself by agreeing to have him there? Or that you’re sounding like the single parent of twenty teenagers again? Because both are true,” he’d told him over coffee, patting his head in the most condescending way possible when Chanyeol dropped it to the table and groaned.

Eventually, things settled. Fall was nearing its end when Chanyeol realized they’d all fallen into a routine, and he could think back fondly of their first rehearsal without wanting to cry out of sheer discomfort. It helped that he hadn’t lost his space, the one only for himself and the kids, for a couple of hours of their own brand of crazy without adding anyone else’s.

He’d settled into seeing Baekhyun once a week, into talking to him in a way that made him feel that they’d be great friends, if they couldn’t be more than that, but still finding it hard to cross that line between acquaintances and friends. Sometimes he’d bring Jongdae along, and those were the most difficult days for Chanyeol, the days he felt uncomfortable in his own skin. He liked Jongdae, thought he was funny and seeing him and Baekhyun interact sometimes felt like watching particularly in sync stand up. But it still reminded him that he was sort of developing feelings he should have cut from the root before even leaving the tattoo shop, and now they were harder to drown.

He’d gotten used to Sehun, who he’d finally met, being in the audience, working on his tablet just as Baekhyun was, and looking up at Jongin and smiling a dozen times an hour. Jongin would blush and wave every time and they had no right to be that cute, in Chanyeol’s opinion.

He was still getting used to getting home and taking out his violin to practice. The first couple of times had been, unexpectedly, pretty emotionally draining. The instrument had felt foreign in his hands, in a way it hadn’t since he was five, and the thought had almost made him nauseous.

That feeling had gone away almost as soon as it had started, and then holding it, playing it was back to being the thing he did best, as natural as breathing.

He had started his own practices with Jongin a few weeks after the general ones had taken off, sometimes staying behind with him after they’d called it a day for their students. Chanyeol soon realized he really liked Jongin, their personalities alike in many ways and their way of working complementary. He was glad it was him he had to work with.

Everyone’s enthusiasm seemed to be rubbing off of him, too, and he was beginning to see the whole situation with new eyes, ones not so clouded by pessimism and anxiety. He could let himself hope that everything would turn out fine. And mean it.

----

Chanyeol was bored. The school had paused all activities for the holidays, and despite having been waiting for a chance to finally rest as much as he wanted to, now that the break was here he didn’t know what to do with himself.

Both Junmyeon and Kyungsoo were working through the holidays, and his sister had gone with his nephew and her husband to the latter’s parents’ house. So, he was feeling a tiny bit lonely, on top of things.

He’d decided to go out for a walk in hopes of improving his gloomy mood, thinking that being cooped up watching random shows on his laptop couldn’t possibly be making things any better. But now he was cold and wanted to go back home to have some hot chocolate and mope through what remained of his free week.

That was, of course, until he ran into the most perfect being he’d ever seen. They walked towards each other like in a trance, Chanyeol kneeling in the still-wet-from-snow sidewalk as the cutest dog ever cuddled into his arms as he began petting it.

It was really the prettiest dog he’d ever seen, a golden corgi with fluffy fur and seemingly smiling. It was dressed up too, protected from the cold with a sweater and little mittens that made him look like one of those celebrities’ dogs.

He didn’t know how long he’d been there on his knees, but he was beginning to really feel the cold ground under them when he heard a pointed cough from above him. Embarrassment coursed through him when he realized he’d spent the last couple of minutes cuddling a stranger’s dog in the middle of the sidewalk, without asking if he could or acknowledging the owner at all.

He was quick to get up, intending on bowing and excusing himself, when he finally got a good look of the dog’s owner.

Wrapped under not less than five layers, with a scarf covering half his face and a hat hiding most of the other half, there stood none other than-

“Baekhyun!?”

“Well hi there Chanyeol, glad you realized it was me before you decided to kidnap my dog.”

Chanyeol whined, “I wasn’t going to- wait, your dog? You have a dog and didn’t tell me? Wow, I thought we were getting close but now I see it was all a lie. Good to know.”

Baekhyun smiled, blushed cheeks looking pinch-able and eyes turning into crescents. “I’m sorry I betrayed our friendship so early on, but as I paltry defense I must say I adopted him last week and I haven’t seen you since. Would you consider forgiving me?”

Chanyeol made a thoughtful noise, pretending to think as he hid his smile in his own scarf, “Depends. What’s his name?”

“Mongryong, isn’t it cute?” He said, dropping the act. The dog turned to look at him, waving his tail before going back to Chanyeol’s side for pets.

“Very cute.”

They stayed in silence for a couple of seconds, their attention focused on the dog between them until Baekhyun had a full body shudder.

“Hey, I really liked running into you and I wish I could stay here but I’m sort of freezing my ass off so I think we should head back home. Isn’t that right Mong-nyongie?”

Chanyeol nodded, trying to hide his disappointment at having to leave both his crush and his new friend. He crouched back down, petting Mongryong’s back as he said his goodbyes.

He waved goodbye to Baekhyun as well, promising to meet again once rehearsals were back around. Baekhyun started to leave, walking a few steps before a weight held him back. Mongryong was trying his best to go towards Chanyeol, who took a couple of steps back to make Baekhyun’s job easier. After a moment of tension, he saw Baekhyun sigh, before turning fully to him.

“Hey, would you like to come with us? We can have coffee or something? I mean, if you’re not-“

“Yeah!” Chanyeol said, trying not to wince at his own over-enthusiasm, “I mean yes, I think that would be okay. It’s not like I’m expected anywhere.”

Baekhyun smiled again, and Chanyeol wondered how was it possible that his smile was still the prettiest one he’d ever seen when he couldn’t even really see it, seeing as it was covered by his scarf. He waved him his way and they began making his way towards Baekhyun’s.

“So, how have your holidays been so far? Are you feeling the magic of this time of the year yet?”

Chanyeol snorted, “Well, considering I’ve been cruelly abandoned by everyone I love and that I’ve spent the last week staring at my laptop, I would say that no, not really.”

“Oh, you’ve been abandoned too? That’s great!” at Chanyeol’s slightly offended expression, he backtracked, “I mean, not for you, obviously. But it makes me feel better about my own abandonment. Even Dae left, can you believe it? The house feels so empty all the time, I’m lucky I have my Mong-mong with me, right, baby?”

The dog waved his tail as Chanyeol did his best to push back the uneasiness those words brought up.

“O-oh. You guys live together?”

Baekhyun nodded back, “Yeah, since college. It just made sense, you know? We spent most of our time together anyway. Besides, living together means we can afford to rent an actual house instead of an apartment, so that’s a plus.”

Chanyeol nodded mutely, berating himself silently the rest of the short walk.

Baekhyun and Jongdae’s house was quaint and still retained the warmth from before Baekhyun’s walk. Chanyeol hadn’t realized how cold he’d been until he felt himself slowly melting back to normal.

“Can I get you anything to drink? We have... coffee, tea, hot chocolate? Beer, I think, but I guess you’d want something warm?” Baekhyun asked, poking his head out of the kitchen. He’d taken off his coat and scarf as soon as they’d closed the door, and Chanyeol had to admit he’d missed being able to see the tattoos on his neck more than what was probably acceptable.

“Hot chocolate sounds great, actually.”

Baekhyun winked at him before heading back in, and Chanyeol took his time to look around the small living room he was standing in. It looked cozy, lived in and warm. There was art hanging from the walls and actual furniture, and the whole thing made Chanyeol’s apartment look like a college dorm in comparison. It didn’t fit the image he’d made of Baekhyun in his head, of this cool, rebellious guy. It made him realize they didn’t actually know each other all that well, had barely gone above small talk. He was glad he was there, though. Glad he could push past first impressions and get to know the real Baekhyun.

He paused in front of one of the photos lining the shelves, showing who he assumed to be Baekhyun and Jongdae, not older than six or seven years old, arms around each other and front teeth missing. It was a beautiful picture, and for once the warmth was enough to sort of drown the nausea that overcame him every time he was reminded of Jongdae’s existence.

Baekhyun was still in the kitchen, but Mongryong had wandered back to Chanyeol’s side, who had resorted to sitting on the floor and letting the dog climb over him. It was then that he noticed the mouthwatering gaming system that surrounded the TV in front of the couch.

It was then that Baekhyun came out with a tray with two mugs and a plate of cookies, looking like he came straight out of a lifestyle magazine. Chanyeol waited until he’d set the tray up on the coffee table before gesturing in the direction of his most recent discovery.

“Oh god, is that yours? You play?”

Baekhyun’s eyes lit up when he realized where he was pointing, “I do! Yeah, I play here and on my computer. What about you? Want to play?”

And it was like that that, after drinking the surprisingly good hot chocolate Baekhyun had made them, they spent hours playing together, the last bits of awkwardness and unfamiliarity now completely melted as they pushed and trash talked each other, Mongryong occasionally barking when they got too loud.

They only stopped playing when Chanyeol happened to look outside, noticing it was considerably darker than before and not wanting to walk back home in the dark, even if they had turned out to live closer than expected.

Chanyeol didn’t want to say goodbye. He wasn’t sure if this was a one-time thing, and he’d enjoyed their time together more than what he would have expected, considering how different they were. His crush was slowly but firmly shifting from being based on physical attraction and an image of Baekhyun he’d constructed in his head to being just based on... him. And he knew himself, knew that if this was, in fact, a one-time thing, he’d go back to being his awkward self the next time they saw each other, and he didn’t want that.

Luckily, Baekhyun seemed to think the same.

“Would you like to come over again?” he blurted. Then he seemed to catch himself, “I- I mean. If you’re not doing anything the rest of the break you could come here and play? I’m at the shop only for a couple of hours and then I get bored and Dae hates videogames so it’s nice to have someone to play with for a change. But only if you want! I totally get if-“

Chanyeol chuckled. He wasn’t sure why Baekhyun seemed so flustered, but it was endearing seeing him that way, so far from his confident and composed usual self, “I’d love to come back, Baek,” he finally said, not failing to notice how Baekhyun’s smile seemed to widen at the nickname, “Besides, I have to see Mongryong again. We love each other, you can’t keep us apart,” he joked.

Baekhyun laughed, shoulders losing some of their tension, “You have my number, right?” Chanyeol nodded. He had had it since that first meeting, Baekhyun insisting they all exchanged contacts just in case. He’d never dared text him, but that wasn’t the point.

That night, when he got home, Chanyeol sent Baekhyun his first text. It was awkward and stilted, as texting usually is at first, but by the following day, they were talking like old friends, sending each other memes and random thoughts they had through the day.

Chanyeol hadn’t expected any of this when he first left home to go for a walk that afternoon, but he sure as hell didn’t regret it.

----

The day before classes —and rehearsals— started back again, they were all called to a meeting to check on their progress. It was a formality, the sort that annoyed Chanyeol to no end, but they were making good progress, so after his brief report he settled back in his chair, ready to zone out until they were dismissed, when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Seeing as he was partially hidden by the table they were sat in, he pulled out his phone, barely disguising his snort as a cough when he read the message.

> i’m bored. distract me (◕ㅅ◕✿)

He looked up and caught Baekhyun’s eye from where he was sitting a few places down the table. He raised his eyebrows at him, only getting a lazy shrug in response.

< and how do u suggest i do that here?

And that’s how they spent the rest of the hour sending each other funny pictures and jokes, the initial purpose of distracting each other shifting into trying to make the other laugh inappropriately in the middle of the meeting.

Chanyeol counted his blessings when the meeting ended without major issues, although Junmyeon‘s slightly reprimanding look told him his distraction hadn’t gone completely undiscovered.

Seeing as they had the rest of the evening free, they decided to grab some food and get all together, taking the chance to relax and get to know each other better before they went back to rehearsing the next four months.

They briefly considered sitting at the closest McDonald’s, but the idea was quickly shut down once they realized they were close to thirty and there was no way they’d all fit. They ended up putting money together to buy a ton of pizza and sitting in the auditorium.

His kids seemed to be getting along well with Jongin’s, and he’d struck a conversation with the man himself when Jongdae, who’d materialized outside of the room after the meeting, pushed Baekhyun to sit beside him before fixing Chanyeol with a look.

“He’s being annoying and saying he misses you even if you’re like. Right here. So there, have him,” and with that, he was gone, back across the room and conversing with Sehun, as Baekhyun spluttered indignantly from his place on Chanyeol’s side.

And Chanyeol was... well. He’d never be one to reject the chance to spend time with his crush, but he still had to admit he was confused.

He hadn’t spent that much time with Jongdae, considering he was the only one keeping their tattoo shop alive now that Baekhyun was playing perfect alumnus (his words, not Chanyeol’s. Which was lucky, considering it earned him a smack in the back of his head and a ten-minute lecture in all the ways Baekhyun still pulled his half of the weight, dragging until Jongdae whined that he’d been kidding).

Still, Chanyeol really liked him, circumstances and everything. But he couldn’t help but notice the dichotomy in his and Baekhyun’s relationship.

It was fascinating, if Chanyeol ignored the hurt that usually spiked up in those moments, to watch them together. They were in sync in a way that spoke of years —decades— together and the way they interacted made it clear they loved each other.

But, at the same time, there was a distinctive lack of romantic tension surrounding them. Chanyeol wondered, when he lied in bed unable to sleep, if it was a side effect of being together so long, if time really killed passion and left behind only familiar love.

As Baekhyun settled into his seat, his side pressed firmly against Chanyeol’s, he couldn’t help but wonder if Jongdae knew what he was doing, if he knew what Chanyeol felt.

Brushing off the thoughts that he was getting into something unknown, he let himself press back against Baekhyun’s side and settle into the comfort of being surrounded by most of his favorite people.

----

Chanyeol had never really cared about February. After the holidays, and the excitement of the beginning of the year, February was just... there, cold and boring.

They had increased the frequency of joint practices, now held twice a week, and even if Chanyeol didn’t think they were strictly necessary (after all, they still had a couple of months to go, and they were all pretty ahead of their schedule), it was a nice distraction.

Besides, it gave him an excuse to see Baekhyun, other than texting him every day. Granted, lately, he’d spent more time glued to his tablet finishing the final details of his designs before they had to go and be print than bothering them during rehearsals, but it was still nice to know he was there.

There was some sort of tension, though, that Chanyeol could never shake when they were within a couple of feet of each other. It wasn’t uncomfortable, per se, but it did leave him unsettled and with a racing heart.

His kids had noticed, obviously, and their comments had grown bolder, louder, until Chanyeol had had to sit them down in one of their private rehearsals and remind them that his love life was none of their business (which had provoked more scoffs that he liked to remember. Those kids would really be the death of him) and explained that whatever they thought they saw between him and Baekhyun was a product of their imagination, as Baekhyun was in a happy, stable relationship and wasn’t interested in him that way at all.

They had toned down their comments after that, even if they made sure to tell Chanyeol all about how they thought he must be mistaken.

Rehearsals were coming along nicely, at least, and nowadays they weren’t a painful, dragging thing anymore. He was proud of his kids’ progress, and of seeing them interact with people outside their little orchestra family. He would never say this to anyone, least Kyungsoo accuse him of acting like a single father again, but he did worry about them a lot.

Not academically, they were all talented musicians with good work ethics. But he himself was a prime example that talent and hard work would sometimes take you nowhere, especially if you weren’t what people expected from you. Especially if you weren’t straight. And it broke his heart seeing this brilliant, talented kids, full of life and love and music, and knowing some of their lives would be more difficult than they should, just because of who they loved.

But in the meantime, he enjoyed watching them be kids, even if they were in the dusk of their teenage years, practically adults, and mess around together, teasing each other and comforting each other and being their own little family.

So, Chanyeol dreaded February. He didn’t particularly care for Valentine’s Day either, seeing as his last relationship had ended half a decade before. And Chanyeol didn’t need the constant reminder that he was alone and the guy he was sort of in love with was in a relationship.

Although he did have to admit it was extremely cute seeing Yoojung’s soft blush reach into her hairline as she carried a small bouquet of flowers into the auditorium, Doyeon hanging from her arm with the smuggest expression Chanyeol had ever seen on her (that remained for the whole rehearsal that day, even if her blush now matched her girlfriend’s after the whole place had cooed at them).

The day before Valentine’s Day, he was left alone with Baekhyun at the end of rehearsals, something that was becoming more and more common, until he believed his kids’ meddling abilities had something to do with that. Baekhyun was helping him put the chairs the kids had used back backstage when the question slipped out of him, completely unprompted.

“Are you doing anything for Valentine’s?”

He wasn’t looking at Baekhyun, so he was startled to hear the sound of a couple of chairs dropping back on the floor. When he turned to check on him, Baekhyun was picking the chairs back up, looking strangely flustered.

“No, I’m not. Not at all. I’m completely free.”

Chanyeol frowned, finishing rearranging the remaining chairs before speaking up again, “Really? Jongdae and you aren’t doing anything?”

Baekhyun did turn to look at him then, a look of bewilderment on his eyes, “Why would we?”

Chanyeol held his eyes for a moment before nodding, picking up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. It made sense, now that he thought about it, that they wouldn’t celebrate something as cliche and commercial as Valentine’s Day, especially not after being together for so long. Still, when he and Baekhyun parted ways a couple of minutes later, he couldn’t help to think that there was something he was missing, if the disappointed downturn of Baekhyun’s mouth was anything to go by.

----

It wasn’t until that weekend that Chanyeol heard back from Baekhyun, in the form of an invitation to go with him to the animal shelter to pick up some of Mongryong’s paperwork. Chanyeol, never one to pass up visiting cute animals (and seeing Baekhyun), agreed in a heartbeat.

They met up near Chanyeol’s house, walking together the rest of the way, Mongryong trotting happily between them.

Chanyeol was relieved to see that the tension he’d felt the last time they’d seen each other was completely gone, to the point where he began to wonder if he hadn’t been imagining it. Their shoulders brushed against each other as they walked (well, Baekhyun’s shoulder brushed against his upper arm as they walked. Technicalities) and that small contact was enough for Chanyeol to be able to ignore the freezing weather.

Being at the shelter was like a dream for him. As soon as they’d arrived, Baekhyun had told him to go and look around as he got his documents, and Chanyeol didn’t need to be told twice.

He was soon led to the small yard of the shelter and left to play with the up-for-adoption animals, and he briefly considered if he hadn’t died and gone to heaven.

Somewhere along the way, he realized Baekhyun had joined him in playing with the animals (he suspected he got there when Chanyeol had been buried in a literal puppy pile. He was generally well aware of Baekhyun at all times, but then he’d been understandably distracted), and just when he felt he couldn’t possibly be more in love with the man, seeing him cradle the smallest puppy ever to his chest proved him wrong. If Chanyeol hadn’t already been weeping (the allergies, he insisted) he would have surely started right then, his heart feeling so full it physically hurt.

It was sad to say goodbye to the animals, Chanyeol petting each one before promising to go back to play whenever he could.

Chanyeol’s allergies were already acting up in full bloom, his skin felt itchy and hot all over, his nose was stuffed and he’d begun sneezing every couple of seconds. It had totally been worth it, tho.

Baekhyun, ever the gentleman, invited him over to his place for some antiallergics and tea, and Chanyeol hoped his eagerness to accept hadn’t been as obvious as it felt.

He’d been in Baekhyun’s and Jongdae’s home a couple of times since the first, and its welcoming warmth never ceased to amaze him.

Baekhyun got to work getting the tea ready, as Chanyeol rearranged their coats and shoes on the entrance and got Mongryong rid of his leash.

Baekhyun popped out a moment later with the bottle of pills he’d bought specifically for Chanyeol’s allergy. The first time they’d spend the evening at Baekhyun’s together, he hadn’t been able to hide the effect being near pets had on him, and he’d begrudgingly explained that that was one of the main reasons he hadn’t gotten a puppy for himself yet. Sure, if he lived in an apartment that allowed them he would totally own one anyway, but the fact that he could barely breathe after a while in their presence didn’t help either.

Since then, Baekhyun had made a point of having some medicine waiting for him whenever he visited, and Chanyeol was happier than he should at the small gesture.

They settled on the couch together, the warmth of the tea seeping into their bones as they sat in silence, enjoying the calmness around them.

Chanyeol took a deep breath, medicine taking effect surprisingly quickly, and smiled to himself when he could breathe normally. Baekhyun was smiling at him when he chanced a glance back, not averting his gaze when their eyes met. There was something about the way Baekhyun was looking at him, that made Chanyeol feel some weird static under his sternum. He was sure he looked at the other like that extremely frequently, but having Baekhyun look at him that way —it made no sense.

“Are you feeling better?” Baekhyun broke the silence, and if Chanyeol hadn’t been so attuned to him, so aware of every breath he took, he would have startled at the sudden noise.

He was only able to hum his ascent, blinking in an attempt to bring himself back to earth.

But then, Baekhyun was there, gently prying his cup of tea from his now warm fingers, settling it back on the coffee table before placing his own warm (so so so warm) hands on either side of Chanyeol’s face.

And then he was leaning in, and with the first slow, tentative brush of lips against his, Chanyeol’s brain shut off.

He felt everything as if from underwater, the lingering pecks, becoming more purposeful when he didn’t pull back. He felt Baekhyun all around him, hands slipping into his hair, chest firmly against his. He felt himself kissing back, hands settling into hips, pulling closer and closer until all he could feel, smell, see was Baekhyun, Baekhyun, Baekhyun.

He didn’t know how long they had been kissing. Was it a minute? An hour? A lifetime? He wasn’t sure, but everything felt so right.

The kisses hadn’t strayed from almost chaste, reverent, tentative touches that still managed to set Chanyeol on fire, chasing Baekhyun’s lips when he pulled away to breathe.

It wasn’t until Baekhyun bit his lower lip, gently coaxing it inside his mouth, that Chanyeol snapped out of it.

And oh, how he wished he hadn’t. How he wished his insides hadn’t turned into lead, that he didn’t suddenly feel nauseous and like crying. Like he’d had a taste of everything he’d ever wanted, and now had the terrible, ironic job of ripping himself away from it.

Because Baekhyun was taken. He was in a relationship, a trusting, established one, and no matter how much Chanyeol liked him, how much he could see himself loving him if he had the chance, that didn’t change how things were. He wouldn’t be the one to break their relationship, the metaphorical mistress.

So he pushed Baekhyun away, sat back and watched him blink his eyes open, blissful smile morphing into a look of confusion when he took in the expression Chanyeol was probably wearing.

“I can’t- I can’t do this,” he stammered, feeling choked and gross and hating that he felt that way after such a wonderful kiss, the best he’d had in forever.

Baekhyun’s face shut off at his words, right in front of Chanyeol’s eyes. It hurt, seeing him like that, blinking quickly and running his hand through his hair, putting space between them. It was the right thing to do, but that didn’t mean Chanyeol had to like it.

What set him off, tho, was that Baekhyun looked... sad. Not guilty, or remorseful. He would have even understood if he’d said he had been joking, even if that would have wreaked him. But no, he looked sad and dejected, like Chanyeol was hurting him by pushing him away. Chanyeol, who had done the right thing, had been the one to stop what could pass as a simple slip up from becoming a huge mistake that would ruin Baekhyun’s life. So how dare he feel so bad?

The silence hung between them, heavy and pregnant as it had never been between them before. Chanyeol felt an ugly feeling growing inside him, anger and sadness and annoyance merging until he wanted to run away to stop himself from exploding.

Baekhyun cleared his throat once again, reaching for his now probably lukewarm cup of tea and downing it in a gulp.

“Do you-? Do you want to like- talk about it?”

“Do I want to talk about it?” Chanyeol exploded, standing from the couch, “Are you fucking kidding me Baekhyun? What made you think that would be okay? Is that really what you think of me? Because let me fucking tell you, I’m not okay with that, and you shouldn’t either and what the fuck were you thinking-“

“Okay!” Baekhyun spoke up from where he had curled into himself, looking more pitiful at each question that left Chanyeol’s mouth, “Okay. I get it. You don’t have to be- you didn’t have to be so. Mean,” he gulped, and Chanyeol was horrified to notice he looked on the verge of tears, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That was never my intention.”

Chanyeol just stood there, Mongryong’s pitiful whining and his own heartbeat the only things he could hear.

With one last look at the figure on the couch, he turned on his heels and fled the house.

----

The following week sucked. Chanyeol had, admittedly, survived his fair share of terrible weeks in his 28 years of life, but that didn’t mean he had gotten used to them.

He hadn’t heard from Baekhyun at all since he’d left his house, which had been expected, but still hurt more than he’d like to admit. The anger and annoyance had begun to fade before he had even arrived at his apartment that fateful evening, and now he just. Hurt. And he found himself missing Baekhyun, missing the easy friendship between them, checking his phone a thousand times a day, finding it devoid of important notifications every time.

Practice had been terrible, too. The kids, always attuned to his feelings despite his best efforts, had been moping and distracted, their music bland and sometimes downright wrong.

Baekhyun hadn’t shown up for rehearsals, and the first time everyone had managed to brush it off as a one time thing, despite the fact that Chanyeol could feel Sehun’s eyes on the back of his head.

That had confused Chanyeol, too. Had Baekhyun told people what had happened? Chanyeol hadn’t, it had felt wrong to even bring it up to Kyungsoo, who he would trust with his life in a heartbeat.

The kids had asked a few questions the morning of their private rehearsals, in the comfort of their little practice room, but Chanyeol had managed to brush them off. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them, just like it wasn’t that he didn’t trust Kyungsoo. God knew those kids had trusted him and each other much more important things, but something about telling anyone what had happened made his skin crawl. It was too soon, too fresh, the guilt still too present. They all had to move on, and Chanyeol would make sure they did.

The second time he didn’t show up, at the end of that terrible week of going through his regular motions but feeling something stuck in the middle of his chest, they all stopped pretending it didn’t bother them.

Chanyeol thought back to a couple of months before, back when they’d all first started rehearsing together, and how hard it had been to concentrate with so many people around them, to Baekhyun’s teasing comments and the way it made his kids laugh (at him, mostly), and found it hard to reconcile with the present reality, of Chanyeol actually missing the ruckus, of everyone looking sad because of him, because of Baekhyun’s absence.

“Hey, Sehun?” Dahyun piped up when everyone was packing up after giving up on rehearsing. Chanyeol would have scolded her for her informality if Sehun hadn’t specifically asked them to treat him that way. Sehun hummed, watching as she helped Jihoon put away his bass clarinet in its case, her own triangle safe in her bag, “Is Baekhyun okay? Did something happen to him?”

Chanyeol looked up just in time to meet Sehun’s quick glance his way. As the week had progressed, those stares had gone from almost hostile to plain confused. Chanyeol averted his eyes, sure his kids had caught the small exchange anyway, and Sehun cleared his throat.

“He’s fine. It’s just- he doesn’t need to be here, you know? He can,” he made a vague gesture with his hand, “administrate everything he wants from wherever. I mean, I don’t have to be here either, most of my designs are turned in and I could finish the rest from the shop but like. Jongin is here,” he shrugged, as if that explained everything. “Besides, Dae is getting annoyed that no one is ever in the shop during rehearsal hours so...”

Dahyun didn’t look convinced, opening her mouth to protest until Jihoon elbowed her lightly, shaking his head when she pouted at him.

Sehun’s words kept running around Chanyeol’s head long after he’d made it home that evening. Baekhyun didn’t have to be there. He’d never had to be there at all. So why had he spent so many hours in that stuffy, perpetually cold auditorium, when he could have been literally anywhere else? A part of him knew the answer, even if he didn’t want to admit it to himself. He knew that, if he’d asked Baek, he would have answered his name with the same simple obviousness Sehun had said Jongin’s. And something about that thought terrified him.

----

Chanyeol needed to man the fuck up and talk to Baekhyun. Things had to get worse before they got better, right?

He’d sent him half a dozen texts that had gone unanswered, but he had to make things right today or he would lose his courage. It was with that in mind that he made his way to the tattoo studio, not allowing his mind to second guess his decision. So what if it was awkward and probably heartbreaking? He just had to deal with it for a while and then they could get over it and go back to being friends and Baekhyun could go back to sitting in on rehearsals and everything would be back to normal. Right?

He didn’t allow himself to think at all until he was standing in front of the shop’s front desk, a slightly familiar face smiling up at him.

“Hi! What can I help you with?”

Minseok, right. The third proud owner of the shop. It was weird, seeing someone you’d heard a lot about but have barely met them, and knowing that they don’t know you. Why would he? Chanyeol had only been there once.

His question, though, stopped him in his tracks. It wasn’t as if he could just ask him about Baekhyun, could he? That wasn’t how things worked and it would be weird, right?

The door behind Minseok opened then, and out came someone Chanyeol had never thought he’d be so happy to see.

“Chanyeol? What are you doing here?” Sehun asked, looking up from the design he was carrying. Chanyeol could feel Minseok’s eyes snapping up to him, a newfound recognition on them, but he kept his own eyes on his savior.

“Um I... I’m looking for Baekhyun. Is he here?”

Chanyeol felt himself blush at the knowing glint on Sehun’s eyes, but to his relief he didn’t say anything, nodding to the room he’d just left, “He’s not here, but Jongdae is in the back and I’m sure he’d be happy to tell you where to find him.”

And then Sehun was gone and Minseok was letting him through the door and then there was Jongdae.

Jongdae, who was currently making out with a stranger. A very good looking stranger, but still.

“What’s going on in here?” he asked, feeling slightly hysterical. And like. Offended in Baekhyun’s behalf, even if Baekhyun had kissed him and everything.

“Chanyeol? What are you doing here?” Jongdae said, disentangling himself from the sexy stranger, but still remaining mostly seated on his lap.

Chanyeol groaned, “Why does everyone keep asking me that? I’m looking for Baek. But you didn’t answer my question! What are you doing? How could you do this to Baekhyun, after all this time? Do you know how precious he is? People would literally kill to be with him and you just- You’re here! With him!“ he gestured at the sexy stranger, who looked sort of confused but probably not as confused as he should.

“Woah wait, you need to calm down. What are you talking about? This is my boyfriend here.”

Chanyeol’s brain stopped so fast he was sure it made a braking noise taken straight out of a cartoon. He was left literally speechless, gaping at them.

“Oh, I’m. Sorry? Are you like... poly?” he asked, wanting to kick himself for making such a judgmental spiel just moments before.

“No? What?”

Sexy stranger piped up then, smiling at him with the cutest smile ever and saying, “Wait, let me guess. Did you think Dae and Baek were boyfriends?”

Chanyeol’s world was unraveling at its seams. He managed to nod, just when Jongdae turned to look at his boyfriend, spluttering, “Why would he think that?”

The new guy pulled him up, making his way to Chanyeol, who was Very Confused and kind of freaking out.

“Hi, I’m Yixing. It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Chanyeol nodded, wishing he could say the same thing, but never having heard that name in his life. Yixing turns to his boyfriend then, who is looking a little bit nauseated, too.

“Why would you think that? He’s my best friend, what the fuck? And how did you figure out that that was what’s going on?”

Yixing chuckled, displaying a pretty dimple Chanyeol hadn’t noticed before, “Because I thought the same thing for months when I first met you two, that’s why. You two act married, babe.”

They all stood in silence for a moment, letting this new piece of information sink in.

“Oh my god, that’s why you rejected him!” Jongdae realized after a while.

Chanyeol’s mind was a symphony of he’s single he kissed you he likes you you rejected him he’s single and he likes you.

Holy shit.

“He’s home. You need to go talk to him right now,” Jongdae says, pushing him out of the room before Chanyeol could even close his mouth.

And then he was running to Baekhyun’s home, literally running in a way he hadn’t in years, and was regretting it as soon as he stepped foot in front of Baekhyun’s house because his lungs were on fire and he couldn’t breathe, let alone talk the way he needed to.

Baekhyun opened the door moments after Chanyeol had managed to calm himself down enough to press the bell.

“What are you doing here?” That seemed to be today’s question, “What do you want?”

Chanyeol took a moment to just take him in, after more than a week of missing him every day. He looked as if he had just woken up, even if it was well into the afternoon, hair a mess and in worn clothes that maybe in another life had been pajamas. He looked soft and sleepy and... kind of gross, if Chanyeol was being honest, and it was sort of a testament of how much Chanyeol liked him the way his chest filled with endearment at the sight.

Baekhyun sighed, moving to shut the door off when Chanyeol just stood there, until he regained use of his brain and rushed to stop him.

“You’re not dating Jongdae!” was the first thing that came to mind when Baekhyun’s sort-of-hard eyes fixed back on him.

Baekhyun blinked, eyes suddenly looking more like they usually did, “I... am aware?”

Chanyeol took a deep breath, finally finding his ground, “I know that. Now. But I thought you were. That’s why I... you know.”

He saw Baekhyun studying him, and held his breath for a moment, until he sighed, turning around and beckoning Chanyeol inside his house.

Mongryong rushed to greet him as soon as Chanyeol stepped foot inside, and he spent the few moments he took saying hi back trying to make sense of his thoughts. This was not the conversation Chanyeol had gone into the tattoo parlor looking to have. He was aware the situation was much, much better now, but the stakes were also infinitely higher. All he had to do was not mess up in the next couple of minutes. Which, honestly, was a lot of pressure, considering his whole existence.

Baekhyun had been puttering around the room, folding the quilts that were on the couch and carrying the three mugs that had been sitting on his coffee table into the kitchen. He was anxious, Chanyeol realized with a start. He’d gotten to know Baekhyun pretty well after all this time, but he’d hardly ever seen him truly nervous, always the picture of nonchalance in comparison to the mess that was Chanyeol.

Baekhyun finally sat on his couch, knees against his chest, fidgeting with a loose thread on his sock. Chanyeol hesitated for a moment. This seemed like the sort of conversation to have sitting down together, right? He took a step forward, and, when nothing in Baekhyun’s expression told him he wouldn’t be welcomed near him, another. And then he was sitting on the other end of the couch, Mongryong at his feet, and drawing completely blank on what to say.

“I like you,” he settled on, in what would go down in history as the least romantic confession ever, “I really, really do. I think I’ve liked you since the day we met, god. But then there was Jongdae and you kept calling him ‘love’ and ‘honey’ and you live together! And you obviously love each other so much! So I’ve spent the last five months trying not to like you —which you make really really difficult, by the way— and then last week you kissed me and I was so so happy but then I remembered you had a boyfriend and I didn’t want to get between you two! And I didn’t want to help you cheat on Jongdae because nobody deserves that and besides he’s really cool so I pushed you away even if it was really hard but now I know you’re not dating so if you’re up to it I’d like to kiss you again because I still really really like you.”

Chanyeol was almost panting by the time he finished saying what he wanted to say. He couldn’t bear to look at Baekhyun, who was as silent as he’d ever been. He felt time pass as a physical weight on his chest, solid until he wanted to run away and far from that couch for the second time.

That whole weight took only a moment to dissolve into nothingness when he felt cold fingers on his chin, tilting his face up until Chanyeol was looking into Baekhyun’s eyes, as kind and soft as ever. And then Baekhyun’s lips were back on his, and Chanyeol finally felt like he could breathe again.

This second kiss was, by all possible standards, way better than the previous one. Because Chanyeol was there, mentally, physically, emotionally. He could feel every single thing, every breath Baekhyun took brushing against his cheek. Even if the position was uncomfortable, Baekhyun reaching from all across the couch to him, Chanyeol’s head tilted in an unnatural position, it was perfect.

They parted after what was hardly more than a peck, Baekhyun smiling at him hesitantly, like he was afraid Chanyeol would push him away again. Like this wasn’t everything he’d ever wanted.

Chanyeol took it into his hand to show him just how much he wanted to kiss him, how much he wanted to always be kissing him. He made use of Baekhyun’s quite precarious balance on his knees to push him away, only now not letting himself be away from him for more than an instant. Making sure Baekhyun was comfortably settled against the couch, he sat himself on his lap, knees bracketing his hips and hands on his shoulders.

Baekhyun smiled at him fully then, eyes crinkling in the corners, and Chanyeol liked him so so much he felt his chest would explode. So he kissed him. And he let that kiss speak for him, show him just how much he wanted him.

It was the sort of kiss that left you breathless from the first moment, intense and hot and way too much for Chanyeol’s poor old heart. Baekhyun beneath him was breathtaking in itself, a work of art. He was insistent and demanding, tongue running along his lips until Chanyeol opened up, sucking on his lower lips before retreating slightly, pecking his lips before diving back in, giving him everything he had. Chanyeol let him do as he pleased, a choked off moan leaving his throat when Baekhyun sucked on his tongue, whining when Baekhyun’s hands left his waist to settle in his hair, tugging slightly.

Chanyeol let his hands roam across Baekhyun’s chest, his back, cataloging every reaction he got out of him, everything that made him gasp, kiss more insistently. Baekhyun was using the hands in his hair to bring them even closer together, until there was no way for them to be more tangled, every inch of their bodies thrumming in sync.

It wasn’t long until Chanyeol began feeling lightheaded, drunk on Baekhyun and lack of oxygen, and Baekhyun leaned back, placing a last soft kiss to his lips and smiling at Chanyeol’s labored breath, before kissing his cheek. Trailing his lips across his jawline, he placed a kiss under his ear, smiling against his neck at the way Chanyeol’s breath caught in his throat before pulling a bit of skin with his teeth, nipping and licking and sucking at that spot until Chanyeol was a mess above him, hands desperately flitting across Baekhyun’s chest before Baekhyun grabbed them, lacing their fingers together and tightening his hold once before going back to his ministrations. The room was again filled with Chanyeol’s gasps, his head thrown back as he let Baekhyun mark his neck, doing his best to stop his hips from thrusting down into Baekhyun’s, but not sure he managed entirely.

Baekhyun leaned back up, bringing his face forward and kissing him again. Chanyeol was almost shaking with need by now, frantic, but Baekhyun kissed him like they had all the time in the world, deep and full but settling, until Chanyeol was sighing into the kiss and letting the tension drop from his shoulders. He sagged against Baekhyun’s body, lips brushing each other with soft strokes, Chanyeol rearranging himself in Baekhyun’s lap until he could lay his head on his shoulder and breathe him in.

He didn’t know how long they sat like that, breaths evening out, Baekhyun’s hands caressing his waist under his shirt as Chanyeol played with the soft hairs at his nape.

Chanyeol was honestly thinking he could fall asleep right there, lulled by the steady thrumming of Baekhyun’s heart, when Baekhyun tapped his waist, clearing his throat and straightening up.

“Yeol?” Chanyeol breathed him in deeply once more before sitting back up as well, looking into Baekhyun’s eyes and feeling once again floored by how much he liked him, “I still think we should talk some more? I don’t want any more dumb misunderstandings between us.”

Chanyeol nodded, pushing down the slight anxiety the thought of discussing things brought up. He didn’t have to worry though, because Baekhyun only smiled at him, licking his lips and chuckling incredulously.

“You thought I was dating Dae?” Chanyeol could only nod, eyes stuck on the way Baekhyun’s still glistening lower lip caught the light, “That’s so gross. I love him, but not like that, I promise. He’s like my brother, what the hell?”

Chanyeol blinked, finally ridding himself from the kissing-induced stupor, “Well, excuse me for thinking that you were together when you act like you are married and with five children.”

Baekhyun swatted at his arm, grin not leaving his face. After a moment of not doing anything, just letting themselves be in silence, he spoke up again, “How did you find out we weren’t together, tho?”

“Oh, yeah. I went to the studio to talk to you and I basically walked in on Jongdae and his boyfriend making out. And then I freaked out and accused him of cheating on you.”

He watched Baekhyun’s face twist in amusement before he let out a loud snort, leaning forward until he was giggling into Chanyeol’s neck, cheek squished against his shoulder. Chanyeol’s heart did something.

“God, you’re unbelievable. Thanks for attempting to defend my honor, tho.”

Chanyeol whined, twisting his head until he could bury his nose in Baekhyun’s hair, “Shut up, I was so embarrassed when I figured it out. I’m pretty sure I left the worst first impression ever on Dae’s boyfriend.”

Baekhyun disentangled himself from him, looking into his eyes and carding a hand trough Chanyeol’s now tangled hair, “Don’t worry about it, Yixing’s chill.”

Chanyeol hummed, closing his eyes at the feeling of Baekhyun’s hand in his hair, their legs tangled together, his body against his, smiling when Baekhyun laughed at him, “What’s with him, tho? How come I’d never even heard of him?”

Baekhyun maneuvered them until he could lie back against the couch, Chanyeol’s head lying on his chest, “Oh. Yeah, I guess you’re right. He and Dae have been together for… years. Pretty much since we left college. He’s a dancer, you know. Was one of Nini’s seniors back then. And he did pretty well right after college and just,” he made a gesture with his arm, “toured Asia with his company. He settled a studio in China a couple of years ago, and it was this huge success.”

Chanyeol hummed, mostly to show he was paying attention, even if a large portion of his brain was just basking in Baekhyun and the content that ran through his body.

“It sort of sucked for Dae, tho. They spent months at the time without seeing each other. That’s probably why you haven’t heard of him, we make a point of not bringing him up in public because it’s a lot to explain and it makes Dae sad. But,” his tone changed, and Chanyeol could practically hear the smile in his voice, “he’s moving back here, permanently. Opening up a studio here since the Chinese one did that well. He’ll probably still go back to check on things from time to time but… yeah.”

“That’s nice for them,” Chanyeol hummed once more, this time feeling sleepy again. He’d been so nervous the whole day, waiting to talk to Baekhyun, that now that everything was okay he just wanted to cuddle him. And nap. And maybe make out a little longer.

He could feel Baekhyun’s chest rumbling as he laughed at him, before pulling the quilt from the back of the couch and over Chanyeol, “Sleep now, big baby. We’ll have time to talk later.”

And just like that Chanyeol was out, warm and safe and in the arms of his crush, who after today might not be just a crush anymore.

----

They did end up talking for real later that evening, after Chanyeol had woken up from his nap and they’d ordered takeout for dinner.

They talked about starting a relationship, even if Baekhyun wasn’t thrilled about calling whatever they had one. When Chanyeol had asked if they were boyfriends now, Baekhyun had winced slightly. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to be with him, he had explained. It was just that being each other’s boyfriends was too much too soon, especially considering Chanyeol had woken up that morning thinking Baekhyun was someone else’s boyfriend.

So, they had agreed to date, to take things easy and see where things lead.

They were now sitting back on the couch, after dinner and video games and taking Mongryong on his night walk and having hot chocolate.

Chanyeol’s sleepiness had completely faded, and he didn’t want to just go home and have this day end.

It was then that Baekhyun tilted his head as he talked, and a peek of something gave Chanyeol an idea.

“Hey, Baek?”

“Hmn?”

“Can you show me your tattoos?”

----

They had relocated in Baekhyun’s bedroom, Chanyeol sitting cross-legged on his bed as Baekhyun fidgeted slightly with the hem of his hoodie.

It hadn’t taken Chanyeol a long time into their friendship to figure out that Baekhyun’s tattoos meant for him much more than he first let on.

As much as he could spend hours and hours talking about the general aesthetic of them, of their art, and showing them off with those sinful tank tops Chanyeol hadn’t been able to see since the end of summer, actually talking about them to someone paying attention made him feel vulnerable, as if he was bearing his soul.

So, him even agreeing to talk about them with Chanyeol felt like a big deal, one that contradicted his intent to keep their relationship light and breezy.

“We don’t have to do this, you know,” Chanyeol reminded him for the tenth time in just as many minutes.

Baekhyun huffed before taking his hoodie off in one swift movement, “I know. I want to, tho.”

Baekhyun was... he was beautiful. That word seemed to both fit perfectly and feel like the grossest understatement ever. He was pure art in every sense of the word, and Chanyeol felt he had never really understood art itself until this very moment.

Having Baekhyun here, inches away from him, and him being actually allowed to touch him and listen to him as he bared his soul, felt so much like a privilege that he felt almost overwhelmed.

He shuffled closer to Baekhyun, reaching out to him with barely shaking hands, and placing one in the middle of Baekhyun’s bare chest. His skin was unadorned in that area, but he could perfectly feel the frantic pace of Baekhyun’s heart against his palm.

“Tell me about them?”

So, Baekhyun did.

With a slightly trembling voice that grew more confident the longer he talked, he told him about each and every one of them.

Guiding Chanyeol’s hand to his right arm, he talked about art and science, two parts of a whole that people often liked to pit against each other. He talked about nature and stars, mathematics and religion. Chanyeol’s fingers followed intricate constellations and planets, traced vivid fishes and beautiful trees, botanical samples and DNA strands, number sequences and anatomy sketches, and things Chanyeol couldn’t identify but wished he did.

Art is life, and life is art, and Baekhyun had placed there everything that reminded him how wonderful the universe was.

He took a deep breath, Chanyeol leaning forward for a quick kiss, before taking his hand again, placing a kiss on Chanyeol’s knuckles before leading it to his left arm. That arm was covered in symbols, and Chanyeol took the time to study them, see the way they fit against each other, all different but with the same feeling. Those were made for their meaning, he explained. Strength, resilience, endurance. Hope. Some were just wishes for himself, qualities he wished to possess and print into his skin as a reminder. Others, tokens for situations he’d lived, reminders of what he’d gone through and survived.

One was more delicate than the others, clearly different in design. While all the others were easily identifiable as tribal art, mostly Korean and Japanese if his guess was correct, intricate designs of solid black, this one was fine lines as curves that Chanyeol traced reverently. Baekhyun went almost eerily quiet when he asked about it, and Chanyeol nearly dropped it before Baekhyun cleared his throat.

“That’s the only one not tattooed by Dae or designed by either one of us,” he explained, his own hand going up to trace the design. It was kirituhi, he explained. A type of Māori tattoo made for non-Māori like himself, and it held so much meaning, it spoke of who he was as a person, it was him in a tattoo. Chanyeol thought it was just as beautiful as Baekhyun himself.

The kiss Chanyeol gave him this time was longer, more purposeful, his feelings crystal clear through it. It helped Baekhyun snap out of the pensive mood he was in moments before, almost giggling when Chanyeol’s arms circled his waist.

Lastly, Baekhyun turned around, showing him his smooth back, the prettiest garden Chanyeol had ever seen.

There were roses and tulips, forget me nots and lilies. Daisies. A single sunflower. Others that Chanyeol could not recognize as well but still stared at in awe as Baekhyun named. Gardenias and daffodils, irises and anemones.

“Flowers are revolutionary,” Baekhyun had said with a laugh. Flowers were beauty and love and community. Happiness. Flowers were fun. For him, they represented embracing his femininity, his tenderness, the side of him society refused to see or accept. That’s why he refused to hide them, always visible even when his other tattoos weren’t, always a part of how people perceived him.

Chanyeol traced his hands along his thin waist and broad shoulders, lips going to the middle of his back, smiling against his skin when he felt Baekhyun’s sharp intake of air. He kept making his way up, kissing random flowers, until he could gently bite the spot where Baekhyun’s neck met his shoulder, adding pressure when Baekhyun groaned and slumped against him. He littered a line of bruises all along the side of his neck, listening to the breathy moans that began to fill the room, turning Baekhyun around when he couldn’t bear not seeing him any longer.

Baekhyun was flushed prettily, chest heaving and mouth parted open, wet and inviting.

Chanyeol dived to kiss him then, using the momentum to push Baekhyun against his pillows. Baekhyun’s hands flew to his back, grabbing the hem of his shirt and demanding he took it off.

He did, reattaching himself to Baekhyun’s mouth the moment it was completely off. This time their kissing was even messier, filled with pent up tension and fueled by the intimacy of their previous conversation, the knowledge that their relationship was more than what they wanted to acknowledge.

Chanyeol pulled away when their movements became lazy from lack of oxygen, panting against Baekhyun’s neck as he placed a few more bruises on Baekhyun, matching the ones on his own neck from a few hours prior.

He began to make his way down Baekhyun’s chest, frantic kisses turning almost reverent along the way, diverting every once in a while to press a kiss to one of Baekhyun’s tattoos. Baekhyun’s hands tangled in his hair, combing it out of his eyes and smiling down at him when Chanyeol looked up.

He paused when he reached the hem of his sweatpants, looking back up at Baekhyun in question and smiling when he got a quick nod. He took his time, then, to kiss all along his hip bones, teasing the skin of his navel with his tongue until Baekhyun was whining and pulling his hair slightly. He finally took his pants off then, patting Baekhyun’s thigh to get him to lift his hips and help him take them off.

Once they were fully on the floor, he ignored Baekhyun’s whines completely as he made his way down his pale thighs, biting lightly on the inner side of his leg and tonguing at the future bruise to soothe the sting. He kept making his way down Baekhyun’s legs, teasing the skin behind his knee until he giggled and pushed him away.

Chanyeol paused, a spot of color stopping him from continuing his slow trail of kisses down Baekhyun's calf. He sat on his hunches, removing Baekhyun's left sock entirely before snorting out a laugh.

"What is this?" he asked, running his thumb across the small tattoo resting on the inner side of Baekhyun's ankle. Baekhyun squirmed, ticklish, and shrugged.

"What does it look like?"

Chanyeol hummed. There, clear as daylight in the dimly lit room, sat a corgi, fluffy and cute and so Baekhyun it ached. A red rose sat on its feet, all delicate lines and thin contours. It didn't look like any of his other tattoos, and even if Chanyeol knew very little about tattoos, and art in general, he knew that there was no way this one was by the same artist as the other ones.

"Did Jongdae do this one, too?" he asked, pretty sure of the answer even before realizing that the rose was, in fact, red. As in. In color. "Wait, does he even know you have this?"

Baekhyun groaned, "Stop talking about Dae while you're undressing me, you weirdo," he huffed, pushing Chanyeol's chest away slightly with his foot.

Chanyeol smiled, leaning back down to keep pressing kisses along his calf, pausing to press a last one to this newly discovered gem.

"I'm just curious, that's all," he mumbled against his skin.

Baekhyun carded his fingers through his hair, pulling a little to make him look up.

"He doesn't, so don't you dare tell him. I just wanted it and knew he'd give me shit for it."

Chanyeol rolled his eyes, "Well, maybe if you didn't talk so much about how 'your body was your canvass' and how your tattoos always have to have some sort of meaning, you could get away with having silly ones without being roasted for it."

Baekhyun tightened his hold on his hair, a fake pout in his mouth, and Chanyeol knew he was right, "Shut up, it just didn't fit the others. Aesthetically. Now stop talking and come kiss me."

Chanyeol was only too happy to comply.

----

Practice the following Monday was… an experience.

Chanyeol had left Baekhyun’s place around dusk on Sunday, after lazing around in bed for hours and getting really late breakfast. It had been nice and domestic, walking Mongryong together and making out and playing video games for hours until Jongdae returned home after spending the night at Yixing’s. Jongdae had only teased him a little for his stupidity, but he seemed happy for them, so Chanyeol didn’t take it personally.

As one would have it, he ended up oversleeping on Monday, foregoing his intention of going up to see Kyungwoo and instead running around like a madman trying to get ready for rehearsals. With the added conjoint practices, Monday morning rehearsals were held in the auditorium too, moving their private practices further into the week.

He got into the auditorium late enough that most of his kids were already there, a feat for Monday mornings, as well as Jongin and his students. A glance around told him Baekhyun wasn’t there yet, and for a moment a spark of insecurity ran through him. He was coming back to rehearsals, wasn’t he? That was the whole point of Chanyeol going to talk to him. (He got way, way more than what he’d hoped for, but still).

Chanyeol said his hellos, telling his kids to set up and start warming up as he got ready. It was surprisingly warm inside the auditorium, and he distantly thought that Junmyeon must have seen his request for heating and making a mental note to get him some coffee as a thank you as he got rid of his jacket and scarf.

When he turned to stand in front of his kids, they had a look on them. The sort of look that generally spoke of trouble for him.

“Hyung,” Haknyeon piped up all the way from the back of the stage, a dangerous smile on his face, “Are those hickeys?”

Chanyeol slapped a hand to the side of his neck, pointedly being reminded of why he’d put on a scarf in the first place. They’d been freezing in the auditorium for months, so he hadn’t really thought having to take it off was a possibility.

His movement was the only confirmation they needed, starting to talk all at once with surprising synchrony, asking questions Chanyeol wasn’t sure if he was allowed to answer (somehow, between all the conversations, he’d forgotten to ask Baekhyun whether he wanted to tell people about them or not, and even if he doubted he would have been able to keep it from his kids for long, he’d still assumed they’d have at least a couple of days).

His kids’ ruckus had called the attention of the dancers on the other side of the stage, and Chanyeol could feel everyone in the auditorium staring at him. He opened his mouth to retort, knowing that nothing he said could ever make the teasing lessen, but willing to try anyway.

It was then that the door on the back burst open, making way for Baekhyun, who apologized for interrupting and being late, going on and on about how he hadn’t been able to find his keys and how he was freezing before pausing at the way everyone was looking at him and slowing down, making his way closer to the stage and looking at Chanyeol quizzically.

“Hi? Is everything okay?”

Chanyeol nodded, turning to give his kids something resembling a glare and watching smugly as they all nodded too.

Baekhyun stared at them for a couple of moments, as if he didn’t quite believe them, before mumbling a “right,” and turning to greet Sehun and Jongin.

“Wow, it’s really hot in here, isn’t it?” he commented as everyone slowly went back to their quiet conversations. He began to take off his dozen of layers, and Chanyeol watched the whole scene like an onlooker watching a car crash. Baekhyun took off his gloves and then his beanie, his outer jacket and his scarf, and thick hoodie. And then he was in a long-sleeved black t-shirt, the milliard of hickeys Chanyeol had left on his neck over the course of the weekend a clear contrast against his skin, even if some were partially hidden by his tattoos.

Everyone else had gone silent, and Baekhyun was still moving, taking his tablet out of its sleeve and powering it on before looking back up.

“Oh my god,” Chaeyoung whispered, breaking the silence and earning a raised eyebrow from Baekhyun.

Chanyeol cleared his throat, deciding to just embrace death and get over with it, and Baekhyun’s eyes snapped to him. Chanyeol then sighed, gesturing at his own neck, and had the pleasure to see the exact moment Baekhyun realized what was going on.

“Oh, shit,” he said, and it was enough for everyone to collectively lose their shits.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t even his kids who were screaming the most, but Sehun, who had come down from his seat and now looked close to shaking Baekhyun, who had blushed to the tip of his hair and slowly put his scarf back on.

Yerim and Renjun had started to collect money from some of their friends, clearly having just won some sort of bet on his love life, and Chanyeol decided to just let things happen. He was chill, he could be chill.

Baekhyun met his eyes then, wincing and mumbling an apology, and Chanyeol shrugged, gesturing at his own hickeys. He then looked back at his kids, still shouting over each other, and back at Baekhyun, with a look he hoped he interpreted as “So, are we telling other people?”, which was honestly a lot to expect from a single look. Baekhyun seemed to get it, though, and he smiled, shrugging back.

“Okay, okay. Enough guys,” he said after a couple of minutes, calling everyone’s attention, “Yes, Baekhyun and I are dating, get over it.”

An exaggerated gasp was heard from the back, “Get over it?” Soyeon exclaimed, “But we’ve been waiting for this for months! We were the ones who told you he obviously liked you back!”

Everyone around her nodded their ascent, ignoring the way the couple on the front blushed slightly.

“Besides, we’re just happy for you, hyung.” Mark told him earnestly, and Chanyeol only had a moment to feel terribly fond of them when Doyeon added, “Yeah! Who knew you had it in you to do something like that!” she said with a gesture to Baekhyun’s neck.

“E-excuse me? Why not?”

The kids paused for a moment, looking at each other briefly before Yoojung gently piped up, “No offense, Chanyeollie, but you’re kind of vanilla.”

The kids started talking all at once again, Chanyeol’s dismayed face doing nothing to deter them, and to his absolute horror he heard someone laughing behind him, turning to find Baekhyun doubled over from the force of his cackles.

“Baek!” he chided, embarrassed but still incredibly heart-eyed from hearing him laugh.

“I’m sorry,” Baekhyun gasped, finally sitting on one of the first row seats, “I’m sorry,” he cleared his throat, “But she’s right, you know. You do look sort of vanilla.”

Chanyeol groaned, resigned to the fact that this was apparently a conversation they were all having.

“And why is that?”

Apparently, it was a question they’d been looking forward to.

“You’re just super soft,” Chenle started.

“And you never yell at us even when we annoy you,” Jisung added quietly

“You wear pastels. And like. Cardigans,” Jaemin said.

“Hey! I do too!” Jeno whined with a pout, smiling only when he reassured him that they looked good on him.

“You cried at my recital last year,” Mina commented with a smile.

“You played beautifully! And I like pastels and being nice!” Chanyeol whined, “I can be hardcore if I want to,” he added, pouting in a way that probably denied his statement.

He thought he heard Daehwi mumble something about him being as hardcore as a teddy bear, but he chose to pay no mind to him.

“It’s nothing wrong, oppa, we like the way you are,” Dahyun reassured him, “We were just surprised. But still happy for you.”

Chanyeol took a moment to actually look at his kids, pass the teasing, to their reassuring smiles, and the way they had supported him all the way through, even when Chanyeol was convinced the man he was now dating was taken and that he would die alone.

He cleared his throat, knowing that he would most likely start tearing up if he kept thinking about this, “Well, thank you. I like the way you are too,” he mumbled, ignoring the cooing coming from his woodwinds and clapping his hands, “Okay, now let's go over the beginning of our set a couple of times, since we’ve already wasted so much time.”

And just like that they started rehearsing, and somehow Chanyeol’s chest felt both lighter and fuller than it had earlier this morning.

----

Dating Baekhyun turned out to not be all that different from being his friend. They still hanged out a lot, and Baekhyun still went to their practice meetings, they texted when they weren’t together and were made fun of by the kids.

Still, there was always that background knowledge that they were, in fact, actually dating. Chanyeol could kiss him whenever he wanted to, could walk him home and cuddle him after practice, could go into the tattoo studio and have lunch with him after his own shift at the elementary school. And it was all so so nice, that Chanyeol felt like walking on cloud nine most of the time. It had taken him a moment to change settings from pining over Baekhyun to dating him, and he still sometimes found himself amazed by it.

The event was getting closer now, less than a couple of months to go, and whenever the fact came up there was an almost palpable nervous energy around the room.

But, they were ready. Baekhyun’s designs were already on the print, the invitations were sent and all that was left was waiting for the RSVP. His job was pretty much done, but Chanyeol appreciated having him there anyway.

The orchestra was playing beautifully, and Chanyeol had to keep himself from getting choked up more and more frequently as rehearsals went by, beautiful melody coming out uninterrupted.

His own personal challenge, the violin performance, had been… well. Rougher. Harder on him, his music and his self-esteem. It had been almost physically painful, going back to playing, relearning the motions he had never actually forgotten. Getting back the memories he’d worked hard to bury deep all these years.

But, things had gotten easier, as they tended to do. He had to admit he was pleased to find his talent hadn’t wilted in the years he hadn’t used it, and knowing he sounded good made the situation less scary. It wasn’t long until Chanyeol could go back to playing for a long time, to playing his old favorite pieces, and to playing in public.

He’d already been practicing with Jongin for months when he first dared practice in front of his kids (and Baekhyun, who back then was still an impossible crush). He’d been nervous in a way that reminded him of getting his tattoo, jittery but excited, almost nauseous but determined. He’d played with his heart, losing himself in the music up until that last note.

And it had been so so worth it. Just to see the expressions on his kids’ faces, the shine in their eyes, the amazement and respect, the way they all swarmed him with compliments the moment he put down his bow.

He felt something finally loosen up then, the painful associations he had with his music and his instrument, with performing at all, finally replaced by warm ones, ones that allowed him to remember all the times he’d enjoyed playing with friends, every time he’d felt too much and had only been able to express everything through his music. He felt like he’d finally found a part of himself he’d missed, had been missing for years.

Sometimes, now, he came back home and played the violin just because he felt like it, something he couldn’t remember doing since high school, before people realized his potential and making music became an obligation.

----

Baekhyun had asked him about it one evening after dinner at Chanyeol’s, once they were done with the dishes and Chanyeol was considering if he should suggest a movie or they could go straight to making out.

He brought it up hesitantly, as if Chanyeol was a spooked animal that could run away at the first sudden movement.

Chanyeol knew, realistically, that there was no way Baekhyun knew his story. Only a handful of people actually did, the ones that had gone through the whole ordeal with him. His parents and sister, Kyungsoo and Junmyeon. That was it. So, it shouldn’t have been surprising, but it somehow still was, thinking that Baekhyun didn’t know something so relevant to who he was as a person, when he felt like they’d known each other for forever.

He’d sighed and ran a hand through his hair, beckoning Baekhyun closer until Chanyeol could cuddle into his side comfortably.

Baekhyun had proven him time and time again that Chanyeol could be vulnerable with him, that there was no point in being together if you couldn’t trust your partner with your thoughts and feelings, trust they wouldn’t judge or make fun of you.

And Chanyeol had never been one to guard his feelings very deeply, his heart always in his sleeve.

Baekhyun was a whole different story, he’d soon realized. He had to make a conscious effort to open up to him, to let him see past the banter and the smiles, and let him into the parts of him that weren’t all that pretty.

Chanyeol had been aware of that when Baekhyun had first shown him his tattoos, but every day he realized just how much trust that seemingly small gesture had carried. Baekhyun, under everything, was scared. Scared of falling in love, of being left behind. Of not being enough.

And while there were some things he had to work on himself, the way Chanyeol had as well, there were others they could help each other with. So, Chanyeol made sure Baekhyun knew he could trust him every single day, made sure he knew how much Chanyeol loved him, even if it was probably way too early to tell him with words.

And, showing him he trusted him with the ugliest part of himself was part of that, so Chanyeol told him.

He knew the story wasn’t as dramatic as he’d probably made it sound every time it came up in passing. It had wreaked him, left him bereft, but from the outside it was borderline… boring.

He’d told that to Baekhyun, earning a reproachful swat and the comment that if he’d hurt Chanyeol so bad there was no way it hadn’t been that much of a deal.

Chanyeol had laughed then, loosening the knot on his throat, and had told him about everything. About going to University with big dreams of performing all across the world. Of being the top student on most of his classes, both from raw talent and hours and hours of practice, of studying theory and attempting to better himself. He told him about taking conduction as a minor, almost on a whim, and of some of his professors being against him wasting time he could spend on his violin, but just how much joy he’d discovered in conducting, how much joy it still brought him.

He realized halfway along the story that it was the first time he’d told someone the whole thing, the first time he’d wanted to do so. A memory brought a smile to his face then, of the first time they’d talked, back when Baekhyun had been trying to get to know him just enough to be able to draw him something better than the monstrosity he’d showed up in his shop with. He remembered the whole scene vividly, remembered thinking that he wasn’t about to tell his tattoo artist his whole life story. Oh, how life works.

His smile went away when he went back to his story. He’d been, according to all his professors, brilliant. He’d performed in every school function they could squeeze him in, had auditioned for tons of orchestras, both major and second rate, from all over the world. Had even had informal offers to be a soloist. His capstone recital had been a rotund success, one of the best the school had ever seen, according to everyone.

But that was it. He hadn’t taken long to find out he wasn’t, in fact, gifted, or brilliant. He was just a good musician, a great one in the small pond that was his school. But there were better ones, younger and more talented, who worked just as hard as he did and got results a million times better.

Still, he’d had some offers on his plate by the time he’d graduated. But Chanyeol hadn’t taken into account that a musician wasn’t just his music, it was him as a whole as well. And, while there were openly LGBT musicians doing brilliantly all over the world, they still weren’t the norm, and were practically unheard of in his home country. And sometimes, employers didn’t want to bring controversy to their perfect little orchestras by hiring regular musicians that didn’t fit their terribly strict personality standards.

And Chanyeol was out. He’d been out since high school, and was proud to be, and to have his friends and family support him. He hadn’t counted on one of his professors indiscreetly commenting that fact to a friend, who just happened to be someone important in the music industry. Who just happened to tell everyone he ran into that Park Chanyeol, the aspiring violinist, was bisexual, and therefore less attractive to most possible employers. Or something along those lines.

Chanyeol had only found this out when the offers he had in Korea had begun to drop, and then the ones from other Asian major orchestras. He’d called back asking if there was a reason for it, and someone had told him about what was said of him off the record.

Chanyeol had felt so disgusted with everything, with everyone in the music industry. He remembered sitting with Kyungwoo, who was trying to get him to stop crying for longer than five minutes, asking him what was everyone’s problem. Because sure as hell Chanyeol’s sexuality wasn’t one.

He still had a couple of offers standing, a European one, a couple from America. But he still felt so disheartened, in a way he’d never been. He didn’t feel like playing the violin, for the first time in almost two decades. He didn’t feel like being part of an industry that didn’t accept the way he was, that was so volatile that they rejected a musician for who he was attracted to without a second thought.

So, he’d taken a break from music, thinking he’d have the chance to go back to it whenever he wanted to. And he’d started teaching, and then conducting at school.

And he fell in love with his life, even if a part of him still yearned for performing. It was an ache he doubted he’d ever completely erase, and part of it was thinking he’d been stripped from a chance he’d always wanted. But it was okay. He was okay, his life was okay.

And being here, in Baekhyun’s arms as he cuddled the remaining sadness away, he felt more than okay. He felt happy and content and in love. And lighter, in a way he hadn’t in a long time.

----

“You know, for someone who listens to you talk so much about your kids’ antics, and has actually, you know, talked to them myself, I don’t really know a lot about them. I don’t even think I’d be able to name them all if you asked,” Baekhyun said one day, lying around in bed and scratching behind Mongryong’s ear. He looked so soft like this, with his fluffy hair and fluffy socks and a warm smile. Chanyeol was so lucky he got to see him like this.

“Well, what do you want to know?” he said, turning on his side so he could see Baekhyun better.

“I don’t know, just... tell me about them?”

So he did. Chanyeol told him about how proud he was of them, both professionally and personally. How he’d seen Mark get comfortable with the rest of the group, opening up to people outside his friends and forming a strong bond with Mina and her friends while they practiced for their violin-harp duet the year before.

How Tzuyu, his flute player, in all her shyness and seriousness was still respected and loved by everyone, and how she thrived when Chanyeol gave her responsibilities.

He talked about watching Jeno, Jaemin and Renjun dance around one another for a whole year, not daring to completely cross the line between friendship and something else, and how everyone had lost their shits that day they showed up to rehearsal holding hands (and how they had teased them afterward, when they wouldn’t stop looking at each other when they performed. They were lucky Chanyeol was amused, and that it went away after a couple of weeks, or he’d have had to look for another violist, violinist and cello player. At the same time. He shuddered at the thought).

He talked about Soyeon, and the lack of confidence in her music she’d had when she’d first auditioned, after years of people telling her the tambourine wasn’t the instrument for her, and how Chanyeol had found in her one of the best players he’d ever seen.

He was so, so proud of them, so happy with the little family he’d managed to create, not just for himself but for the kids as well. They were there for each other, even after graduation they kept in touch, forming solid bonds that with care would last a lifetime.

It was true, Chanyeol didn’t talk as much about his kids as he would like to, but he’d learned over time that people tended to look at you weirdly if you started telling them about your kids, the oldest of them about five years younger than you. Kyungsoo joked about the single parent of twenty thing, but that was what it felt like most of the time. They spent a lot of time together, conquered many hardships, and that only strengthened their relationship.

Their practice room had seen coming outs and announcements of breakups, tears over failed exams and unsupportive family members. His kids would come to the orchestra for advice and support and love, understanding.

They’d been there to help overcome their shyest members worst moments, cheering on Jinyoung’s first solo oboe performance and sitting around backstage when Yoojung sat for her hardest clarinet exam yet.

He talked about his happiest members, too, the ones that always managed to put a smile on everyone’s faces, even when morale was down and some were shedding a couple of tears.

He told Baekhyun about Yerim and Doyeon, who’d come to him one day demanding an English and French horn duet, just because they wanted to perform together, and had proceeded to make them all cry with laughter at the tales of their rehearsals every day. And about Donghyuck, and how he made a big deal out of carrying his double bass around, playfully re-enacting his commuting woes. Momo had been quick to catch up with him, sharing more than her fair share of stories of moving around with her tuba, even finding humor in all those times she’d aced a blind audition, only to reveal herself and be dismissed with thinly made excuses.

Those were the stories that made Chanyeol ache, that made him want to burn the music industry to the ground and start it back up with more thoughtful, compassionate people in charge. His kids deserved better, and, at least for a couple of years, he could make sure they got what they deserved.

He’d been ranting, he was aware of that, but when he looked back at Baekhyun, he didn’t find him looking bored, or even with that slightly amused exasperation some people wore when he rambled about his beloved orchestra.

What he did find was a look akin to adoration, if he dared to hope so, something that made him tingle in the best way, that made him sigh into the kiss when Baekhyun closed the short distance between them. That kiss tasted different, sweeter, promising. Chanyeol didn’t want to get his hopes up, knew Baekhyun wanted to take things slowly, wanted to be able to give himself completely to Chanyeol before promising him anything he wasn’t sure he could follow through.

But still, if Chanyeol had to pinpoint it, he’d say that that kiss tasted a lot like love.

----

Chanyeol had had, in the past few months, more life-changing, contestants-for-best-day-ever days than he’d had in the last few years. He could think several from the top of his mind, usually remarkable in their unremarkability, in the love that surrounded him every day to the point that sometimes he found himself pausing in the middle of rehearsal and realizing that that was a day he’d want to remember forever, a day where he’d smiled and laughed and loved, and felt loved back. A day filled with music used for the purpose it was meant to be used, to make people happy, surrounded by people who’d grown to be his family in every sense of the word.

Still, the day Baekhyun had asked him to be his boyfriend stood in sharp relief in his mind and heart.

They’d been walking back to Baekhyun’s after a practice that had run later than planned. The days weren’t so cold anymore, spring making itself known, and they were holding hands, Chanyeol fidgeting with Baekhyun’s fingers, those fingers he’d always thought were so damn pretty, and now he could actually touch.

Baekhyun had been quiet all day, uncharacteristic of him, but Chanyeol didn’t take it personally. He’d come to learn that that meant he had a lot in mind, that he had things he needed to work out by himself, and Chanyeol was willing to wait for him for as long as he needed him to.

So, he’d been pleasantly surprised when Baekhyun had asked him to come home with him after rehearsal, had held his hand and let their intertwined hands swing between them, even as his silence hung around them all the way to his house.

The house was empty when they got there, Jongdae nowhere to be found, and Chanyeol couldn’t say he was surprised. Ever since Yixing had gotten back, Jongdae had spent as much time as he could with his boyfriend, including sleeping in his apartment. Which, totally understandable. And something Chanyeol was grateful for, considering how much he enjoyed being alone with Baekhyun, and how much he loved his house.

Chanyeol had offered to take Mongryong out on his evening walk by himself, Baekhyun still seeming deep in thought, and was rewarded by a small smile, a hum in ascent.

Mongryong loved Chanyeol, it was no news to anyone. Baekhyun used to joke that his own dog liked Chanyeol better than him, but they both knew it was a lie, that the puppy adored his owner more than anything. Chanyeol enjoyed walking him, though, and how it allowed him to think and look around in a way he usually didn’t take the time to.

He gave Baekhyun around fifteen minutes, making his way back when the puppy began to get tired, and came into the house to Baekhyun sitting on the couch, a cup of tea in his hand and another one in the coffee table. Baekhyun drank a lot of tea, more than anyone Chanyeol had ever met. It was one of the million things he’d come to associate with him, that had come to expect and relish whenever they were together. He’d learned that the process ground him, with its familiar, easy to follow routine, and then holding the warm cup made him finally feel at home.

Baekhyun was so interesting, had so many facets, Chanyeol was fascinated whenever he discovered a new one. He was elated to realize that not many people were allowed to know many of them. Baekhyun was guarded, more than one would realize giving his relaxed nature and easygoing personality. He kept things that really mattered to him close to his heart and away from prying eyes, and Chanyeol considered being allowed to see him in a vulnerable state one of the greatest privileges he’d ever been granted.

“Come sit with me?” he asked, snapping Chanyeol out of his train of thought. He nodded, hanging his coat by the doorway and freeing Mongryong from his leash before making his way to Baekhyun, sitting beside him but not against him in case he didn’t feel like cuddling. Baekhyun proved him wrong, huffing before closing the remaining distance between them, rearranging him until they were tangled together and as comfortable as possible.

Chanyeol smiled, placing a kiss to his hairline and waiting for him to speak.

“We’ve become domestic,” Baekhyun said.

It wasn’t a question, nor an accusation. Just a statement. Chanyeol nodded, tightening his hold around him. They had, there was no way around it. They spent a lot of time together, not doing anything in particular. Sometimes Baekhyun drew as Chanyeol played around on his laptop. Sometimes they played video games until midnight. Sometimes they argued about what to make for dinner, or what to watch on Netflix. Sometimes they cuddled for hours, or gossiped about their friends.

They were pretty much the definition of domestic. And Chanyeol didn’t mind. On the contrary, he was delighted, he felt comforted and warm whenever he thought about it. Still, he wanted to know what Baekhyun thought about it. He knew he had a complicated relationship with that sort of thing. He knew his family life had been far from ideal, and that his previous relationships hadn’t been the sort that one would describe as domestic.

Chanyeol tried his best not to get anxious as Baekhyun let silence fall again, fighting against his natural instinct to jump to the worst possible outcome and allowing him to get his thoughts in order.

“I like it,” he said, finally, and Chanyeol felt like he could breathe again.

“You do?”

It was Baekhyun’s turn to hum, turning so he was facing Chanyeol, looking more present and light than he had all day, “It’s nice. I like spending time with you. And like. Spending part of our lives together, you know? Like we don’t have to make a big deal out of things, or go out of the way to make each other happy?”

Chanyeol smiled at him, kissing his cheek and feeling extremely proud when Baekhyun giggled, “I like it, too. Being with you makes me happy.”

Baekhyun beamed at him, looking happy and younger and carefree. But then he got quiet again, a sliver of nervousness making its way into his eyes. He didn’t give Chanyeol time to get nervous himself, though, because he was quick to speak again.

“Would you like to be my boyfriend, then?”

Chanyeol was stunned, more than he probably should be, considering they’d been dating for some time and becoming boyfriends seemed like the logical next step. Still, he hadn’t considered Baekhyun being the one to ask him, even if that made him happier than he wanted to admit.

He realized he’d maybe been quiet for too long when Baekhyun started to ramble, as he was prone to when he got anxious, “I mean, we don’t have to. We can still date and not have labels and everything. But today I was talking with some of your kids and I wanted to call you my boyfriend but I didn’t want to do it without talking to you first, you know? And I get it if you don’t want to because let’s be real I’d be a lousy boyfriend. I don’t even know what I’m doing. Or what boyfriends do. Or like-”

Chanyeol kissed him then, not finding words to stop him from doubting himself and using the most effective method he knew of. Baekhyun looked startled, staying still for a moment, almost as if he wanted to go back to being self-deprecating, before kissing him back, tension melting out from his body as he sighed into Chanyeol’s mouth.

They kissed for a while, the lazy, unassuming way that wasn’t looking into getting anywhere.

It was only when Baekhyun seemed more like himself, taking control of the kiss and smiling into it, that Chanyeol pulled away, pecking him one last time before cradling his face with his hands.

“I’d love to be your boyfriend,” he said with a content sigh, feeling warmth run through him when Baekhyun lit up like the sun.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Even if I don’t know what the hell am I doing?”

Chanyeol scoffed, “Please. I don’t know what I’m doing like most of the time. And it’s not like being boyfriends is all that different from this deeply committed dating we’ve been doing so far, and you’ve been acing it.”

Baekhyun pushed him away with a groan, dropping back against him after a moment.

“We’ve really been boyfriends since day one, haven’t we?”

Chanyeol hummed, “Yeah, pretty much. But I now get to call you my boyfriend, boyfriend.”

Baekhyun groaned again, “God, you are the worst, I regret everything.”

Chanyeol was so happy he couldn’t keep the smile from his face, moving to tickle Baekhyun’s side, “No you don’t, boyfriend.”

Baekhyun laughed, taking his hand and stopping him from ticking him, “No, I really don’t.”

They remained quiet for a while, letting the knowledge that now they were officially together settle. It was, once again, Baekhyun who broke the silence.

“Hey, do you think your kids are gonna accept me? As your boyfriend, I mean.”

Chanyeol scoffed, turning it into a laugh when Baekhyun swatted at his chest.

“I mean it! They are terribly protective over you, you know. I’ve gotten like. At least five thinly veiled threats against ever hurting you since they found out we were dating, I don’t know what they’ll think now that we’re boyfriends.”

Chanyeol laughed again, feeling almost high on happiness, both at hearing Baekhyun say they were boyfriends and at having another confirmation of how much his kids cared about him.

“Oh please. They adore you. They think you’re the coolest person ever, for some reason,” he smiled at his boyfriend’s offended grumble. “They also think you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, so I don’t think you have to worry about it.”

“Am I?”

“Are you what?”

“The best thing that has happened to you.”

Chanyeol blushed, “You are… pretty up there.”

Baekhyun smiled against his chest, turning to place a kiss on his neck, “You’re pretty up there for me, too.”

----

The weeks before The Big Event™ had been, in one word, chaotic.

The kids’ exams had been just around those weeks, and no amount of planning ahead made things easier for them. Rehearsals had been pretty much cut short, in the sense that they were still held as usual, but Chanyeol had made it clear they could skip them if they needed the time to study or rest in between exams.

Jongin’s kids were in a similar situation, so they spent most of their allotted auditorium time that week polishing their routine, to the point Chanyeol dreamt about his song and had it stuck in his head so badly he was getting sick of it.

Baekhyun’s job was done, and he’d taken into his hands to make sure he was well fed and as rested as possible.

So, when the day actually came, exams and rehearsals over, Chanyeol woke up feeling pretty relieved. He knew the feeling wouldn’t last long, that the sentimentality and pre-performance anxiety would soon reach him, so he took his time getting ready, cladding himself in sweatpants and making sure he had everything he needed to get ready for that evening in his bag.

He got to the school early, making his way to their little practice room with the weird sense of calm still surrounding him. There was something weird about being on campus early Saturday morning, no matter how many times he did, and he sat in their room in silence. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he’d missed the place. Even if they still practiced there at least once a week, he’d gotten used to spending much more time in there the previous years, and it held some sort of intimacy that the auditorium didn’t exactly manage to have.

He’d gotten a text from his boyfriend almost as soon as he’d entered the room, wishing him good luck and telling him he’d see him an hour before showtime, so all Chanyeol really had to do now was stay calm, greet his kids and keep them from freaking out as long as possible.

They began shuffling into the room one by one, everyone carrying their instrument and a bag, piling the latter on the side of the room before sitting themselves near their friends. The general anxiousness was almost palpable, and Chanyeol sighed. It was going to be a long day.

He noticed that Mark was sitting quietly, not paying attention to his friends’ raucous conversation, and he went to check on him. As his concertmaster, he had some extra responsibilities, and it was understandable he’d be even more nervous than the rest.

Their little orchestra had its own set of rituals for performance day. Some of them, the ones that played out in the performance itself, were a laid back copy of American orchestras’ traditions, born after some of his elder kids had learned about them in class and thought it would be funny to do them themselves.

Others, were purely them, born after years of knowing each other and what made them relax.

So, when Jinyoung pulled out the homemade chocolate chips cookies and the deck of UNO cards out of his bag, everyone settled around him, ready for a couple of hours of winding down before they had to make a few runs of their setlist and get ready for the event.

Their method proved, as usual, quite effective. It wasn’t long until Jihoon was threatening to murder Chenle over a draw four card played his way, and Chanyeol was pretty sure that somehow the girls had managed to form an alliance to make the rest of them lose miserably. Still, everyone seemed more like themselves and more relaxed than they had when they had arrived, so Chanyeol totally counted the whole thing as a win.

They spent hours like that, pausing for a quick lunch on the blessedly open dining hall before finally going back to getting ready. The anxiety seemed just about ready to settle back into everyone, but once they started to actually play their music, everyone snapped into professional mode. In all honesty, Chanyeol didn’t think they had anything to worry about. Rehearsals had come out close to perfect for weeks now, and even if the nerves made them more prone to mistakes, they had the performances so ingrained it was unlikely anyone would mess up too badly.

Baekhyun arrived, as promised, an hour before they had to make their way to the auditorium, just when Chanyeol was about to tell the kids to go get themselves into their performance outfits.

When he knocked on the door, Chanyeol’s breath was promptly knocked out of him. He looked… ethereal, in his pristine dark suit, every tattoo but the flowers on his neck covered, hair swept back and makeup subtle but eye-catching. It was all Chanyeol could do not to run to him and kiss the daylights out of him, but he realized he’d been staring when Doyeon cleared her throat, mumbling that they knew that his boyfriend was hot, but could they please go and get ready for the performance?

Chanyeol dismissed them with a wave, and then he only had a moment to say hi to Baekhyun and find out that Sehun, Jongdae, and Yixing were already in the auditorium before he was being whisked away to get ready in one of the reserved changing rooms.

----

The auditorium was, when Chanyeol finally emerged all dressed up and polished, and dared to peek from backstage, beautifully decorated. He recognized the banners Baekhyun had shown him before sending them to print, and the lighting design made everything pop out all the more, the stage gleaming in a way that made it hard to believe it was the same stage they had spent so much time on.

Their performances were closer to the end of the event, just before everyone was set to leave for one of the University’s more elegant event rooms, so Chanyeol took the beginning of the event to settle himself, walk around his kids checking everything was in order with their instruments and that they weren’t freaking out too badly, talking with Jongin as his own kids warmed up, and just get ready for what was coming.

The previous performances went by quickly, and then Jongin and the dance kids were being called on stage for their first performance. They all knew they were next, and everything turned into a buzz as they straightened up clothes and finished tuning instruments.

And then the dance crew left the stage and the lights went down, the stage crew arranging the chairs and music stands the way Chanyeol had told them to the week before.

Then the lights turned back up and his kids began leaving the backstage, making their way to their places one by one, looking calm and collected as they carried their instruments with them, looking poised and grown up. Mark was the last one to leave, waiting as everyone took their places. Chanyeol clasped his shoulder, whispering a “good luck” before he left too, bowing to the audience and nodding at Jinyoung, who played the tuning note on his oboe to signal everyone to get ready, with the winds adjusting their instruments first.

This was one of Chanyeol’s favorite moments in performances, the complicated, almost theatrical traditions, the way the kids looked serious and concentrated as they performed them with utmost diligence. It was mostly for fun, considering they were a small college orchestra, and, on this occasion in particular, this was mostly for show. But he had to admit it all looked quite impressive, if he could say so himself.

Jinyoung played his second A, this time for the strings, who adjusted their instruments until they were all in tune. When they were done, Mark signaled everyone to sit and, once they were done, it was Chanyeol’s turn to enter the stage. He bowed to the audience, and then to his kids.

The announcer introduced them and their setlist then, and then, they were playing.

It was, as he should have expected, a pretty emotional moment for Chanyeol. He knew these pieces like the back of his hand, and they had been working on them for way longer than they would have, had this event not been so important, so he allowed himself to enjoy the moment.

He took the time to look at his kids, all dressed up and made up and looking nothing like the sleepy young adults clad in hoodies and looking like they hadn’t slept more than five hours a night in years. They were grown up, some of them would be graduating later that same year. Granted, they would probably still participate on the orchestra after graduation, before they got full-time jobs (after all, it was great as job experience, and most of the time their orchestra was the thing they found the hardest to leave behind), but they were all so brilliant, had so much potential that he was sure they’d excel in whatever they wanted to, and Chanyeol was so, so proud of each and every one of them.

A voice that sounded suspiciously a lot like Baekhyun’s teased him on the back of his mind when he began to get emotional, reminding him that he wasn’t that much older than them, and that they would keep in touch even if they didn’t see each other every week.

Jongin and his students came in for their shared piece, and Chanyeol thanked the heavens for the hundreds of hours they had spent rehearsing this very moment, that allowed him to remain focused on their own performance, even if he could see the dance movements from the corner of his eye.

And then they were alone again, and the setlist had veered into calmer pieces, including brief solos from every section. He could remember clear as light when they had first started talking about the setlist, how everyone was jumping in with suggestions, and how excited they had all been with their pieces, and with having a say in such an important decision.

He had a privileged point of view, and took the time to observe every one of his musicians, the way they played, the way they interacted with the stage. They said that if you had a hundred musicians interpret the same piece, you’d end up with a hundred different interpretations, and that that’s why a conductor was needed. But even with Chanyeol standing in front of them, it was impressive how much of their personality shone through in their way of playing.

Chanyeol didn’t miss the way Jaemin rubbed his music sheet slightly with the edge of his bow every time one of his boyfriends had a solo longer than two seconds, nor the way it made both of them smile every time as if it was the first. He caught the way Tzuyu, Jihoon and Doyeon all shuffled their feet encouragingly once Yoojung was done with her slightly feared section, and how Haknyeon and Momo silently cheered for each other whenever it was their turn to play.

Chanyeol was just so fond of all of them, and so grateful they’d all found each other.

And then their setlist was over, and Chanyeol was turning to the audience to bow. He then turned back to the kids, motioning at them to stand as well for their applause, but they refused to do so with playful smiles on their faces, clapping as well until Chanyeol got all misty-eyed and quickly wrapped up the end of their performance and left the stage. They were all barely backstage when Chanyeol was tackled into a group hug, chiding his kids for surprising him like that half-heartedly and congratulating them all in their wonderful performances, chuckling when he realized he wasn’t the only one teary-eyed anymore.

Jongin made his way towards him then, his violin case in hand, and Chanyeol was promptly reminded that his contribution to the evening wasn’t done, yet.

----

His second performance was, after the rollercoaster of emotions the orchestra had been, pretty unremarkable. Chanyeol still felt free, still let the music course through him as if he was alone and wasn’t being watched by tons of strangers, and it was nice. Sehun and Baekhyun’s designs were most likely projecting behind them, and Chanyeol thought distantly that he hoped at least Sehun or maybe even Jongdae had had the foresight to get it on video. Jongin danced beautifully, as he always did, moving with the music as if they were one, as if his body was liquid.

They were the closing act, and, after a couple of moments, the announcer invited the audience to the room next to the auditorium for food and drinks (and networking, as Chanyeol had been told).

He made the way there with the kids, after they’d all left their instruments in a safe place, and was immediately greeted by a beaming Baekhyun, who congratulated them all before they dispersed and he turned back to peck him, whispering just how well they’d sounded, how nice his and Jongin’s performance had been. He seemed really proud of him, and really excited, and Chanyeol wanted to ditch this event and go home with him so much he had trouble snapping out of it.

Kyungsoo and Junmyeon came to greet him then, and after that Sehun, practically clinging to his boyfriend, and a while later Jongdae and Yixing, too. He’d also been approached by most of his kids, dragging a parent or sibling behind them and wanting to introduce them to Chanyeol, to the point he could no longer place name to face, but he still enjoyed the interactions terribly.

There were also, unfortunately, least pleasant conversations. Junmyeon had made it pretty clear since day one that a huge part of the event would be talking to donors and important people in the academic world, and showing off just how great the university and its alumni were. It was then Chanyeol struggled, trying his hardest to seem interested in terrible conversation with not very nice people, his only reassurance being having Baekhyun on his side.

It was in the middle of one of this conversations, with an older man who Junmyeon had surreptitiously told him was pretty important and had valuable contacts with several European music institutions, that Baekhyun excused himself to go get something to eat, squeezing his elbow encouragingly before disappearing into the crowd.

“Is that your… partner?” the man asked then, bringing Chanyeol’s attention back to him. He winced internally at the way he’d asked the question, too seemingly polite to be disdainful but still clearly so.

“Yes, Baekhyun is my boyfriend,” he said, even if he wanted nothing more than to turn around and run away before the conversation went where he thought it was going.

The man nodded, and for a moment Chanyeol thought that would be it, but then, “Can I give you some professional advice?”

Chanyeol almost sighed, but he, unlike his conversation partner, was actually polite, so he didn’t.

“You’re a very talented man. And you’re still young, so I can see you having a future in the music industry. But who a musician spends time with is just as important as his character, and it’s not doing your career any favors being seen with somebody… like that.”

Chanyeol gaped, almost surprised at the boldness of this man, feeling like slapping him or giving him a piece of his mind. As he couldn’t do either, the image of Junmyeon begging him to make a good impression still fresh in his mind, he took a long swing of the glass in his hand before asking, “Is it because he’s a man? Because-”

The man interrupted him, letting out what sounded a lot like a nervous chuckle, “It’s not because of that,” Chanyeol almost rolled his eyes, but somehow managed not to, “I’m talking about all the,” he gestured around, and Chanyeol found himself clenching his fist by his side. He wasn’t a violent person, not at all, but this man was managing to push all his buttons, “the tattoos and the make-up.”

And then Chanyeol was excusing himself as politely as he could, almost running to the bathroom and locking himself inside to breathe for a moment.

----

He spent the rest of the evening feeling off, and being mad at himself for feeling off in such an important night, where everything had turned out so well and all their preparations had shone through.

He didn’t know why he was having such a hard time brushing that man’s comments off. It wasn’t the first time someone had said something terrible about him, hadn’t even been close to the worst, but somehow his words had stuck to his mind.

He concluded, somewhere near the end of the event, that it had something to do with the realization that things hadn’t changed since the last time he’d played his violin in public. That even if, for him, it had felt like a lifetime, people in his chosen industry still were shitty, and it didn’t look like that was changing anytime soon.

He was so sick of gatekeeping in the classical music industry. He thought about how much talent was lost because men like this one were the ones who decided who got scholarships and job offers, and had to stop himself from going down that road once he thought about how much he didn’t want his kids to have to go through something like that before he started weeping in the middle of the makeshift dance floor.

The night wound up, and one by one his orchestra and his friends came to say their goodbyes, promising to meet him by the end of the week for their planned after-event get together.

Once Jongdae had agreed to take Mongryong for a walk, he and Baekhyun decided to walk to Chanyeol’s, seeing as it wasn’t so late and both of them could use the fresh air.

Baekhyun was almost skipping in excitement, talking about anything and everything, from his favorite parts of the evening and all the different art exhibited in the salon, to running into a couple of former classmates, to the quality of the food.

When they closed the apartment door behind themselves, Baekhyun was quick to push him against it, standing on his toes and pressing his lips against his with an enthusiasm that told Chanyeol he’d been waiting all day to be able to do this. And Chanyeol had, too, that’s why he was so annoyed at himself when he couldn’t shut his mind off long enough to kiss back properly.

“Okay,” Baekhyun sighed, disentangling his hands from his hair and taking a step back, “What is it?”

So, Chanyeol told him. He relayed the conversation he’d had on the few minutes he’d been left alone, and how much it had bothered him, and how out of it he’d been for the rest of the night.

He felt better when he was done with his small rant, not feeling so weighed over any longer. That was, of course, until he looked back at Baekhyun.

It took him a moment to realize his boyfriend didn’t look annoyed, nor rightfully indignant and sympathetic as he’d thought he would. He looked downright pissed.

“Are you kidding me Yeol?”

“What?”

“You do know how this looks like to me, right? Some random old guy tells you I’m not good enough for you and your career and you go ‘oh yes, thank you for your input’? What the fuck, Chanyeol?”

“It wasn’t like that!”

“It was exactly like that! I’m your boyfriend, for fuck’s sake! You shouldn’t have let him talk about me like that!”

Chanyeol hated where this was going, hated that even if he was one of the main actors he felt like he was a spectator, unable to change the course of the conversation.

“He’s a big deal, okay? You don’t get it, I wanted to, but I couldn’t just go and pick a fight with him!”

Baekhyun paused then, face closing off in a way that made Chanyeol’s throat feel tight, “I see.”

“Whatever you’re thinking about, don’t.”

Baekhyun chuckled, so humorless it hurt to hear, “I’m thinking. That I was an idiot. That I fell in love with you, and I told you things I’d never told anyone. And I trusted you,” he swallowed, voice wobbling dangerously, “and the moment someone dangles the possibility of a music career in front of you, you just,” he waves his hand around, “go and get ashamed of me and my tattoos, even now that you know what they mean to me.”

Cold traveled from his wrist to the tip of his fingers, shame and desperation washing over him like a wave, “Baek, please. I swear it wasn’t like that. I was just stunned, I didn’t know what to say.”

Baekhyun nodded, “Don’t worry. Your actions spoke for themselves. I’m gonna go now.”

And then he was out, and only when his phone lit up with a message from Baekhyun himself letting him know that he’d made it home safe, uncharacteristically dry and devoid from emojis, did Chanyeol realize just how much he’d unintentionally fucked everything up.

----

The following day was a Sunday, and Chanyeol spent the day in bed. He hated everything, hated the thought of last night and hated knowing that he’d hurt Baekhyun.

His mind was sluggish, not shutting up but not thinking anything productive, either.

Baekhyun hadn’t called.

Around midday, messages started flooding the orchestra group chat, everyone sharing their photos and videos, comments on the other guests and things their family members had said about their performances.

It was the first time he smiled all day, the cloud hanging over his head clearing for a while as he read the messages. They were all excited about their reunion later that week, wanted to be able to relax together and talk about the performance and celebrate both rehearsals and exams were over.

Chanyeol checked his email later that evening, scrambling around for something to do that didn’t involve getting out of bed or thinking about Baekhyun.

There, under a pile of junk mail he’d neglected to delete all week, he found two emails, both addressed to him.

Opening the first one, he immediately felt his stomach drop, even if its contents should have produced the opposite reaction. The man he’d talked to the evening before, whose name he hadn’t been able to remember but now recognized clearly, told him he’d gotten his contact information from the school and practically demanded he sent an audition tape he could forward to one of his European partners.

Chanyeol closed the lid and placed his laptop on the bedside table. He briefly realized how weird it was that the first thing this guy did a Sunday after a party was talk business, but that was quickly buried beneath a shit-ton of other, more pressing thoughts.

He should, by all means, be thrilled about this development. It was all he’d ever wanted, right? To have the possibility to play in an important orchestra, just like the one this man’s contact probably managed. The Chanyeol of ten years ago would be jumping around, thinking about what he’d play for his audition.

But yet here he was, lying on his bed, and he honestly didn’t even want to answer that email. Because he realized that wasn’t what he wanted now. He’d been trying to cater to his teenage self, thinking about his dreams as if he hadn’t grown up, as if they hadn’t changed and morphed with experience, with the knowledge about the word he had now. He wasn’t the man he was ten years ago, so why had he thought he’d want the same thing?

Because he didn’t want to work for someone who didn’t accept him for who he was, who didn’t accept the man he loved. He loved his life, loved what he did and honestly felt that, even if it wasn’t much, he had an impact on people’s life. He wouldn’t change it for anything, much less for a so-called opportunity that felt so wrong.

Watching his phone vibrate beside him on the bed, texts still coming in every couple of seconds, he felt the dumbest he had in quite a while.

Baekhyun had probably thought he’d ditch him the first chance he’d got, and his actions last evening hadn’t exactly discouraged those insecurities. He’d made him feel like he was second to his dreams, and now he realized that those dreams weren’t even his actual dreams.

In a way, having this opportunity now, getting to really have the chance of that sort of performing career, the one that he’d felt he’d been robbed of all those years ago, was what made him realize that wasn’t what he wanted at all. Wow, he really fucked up.

He scrubbed a hand through his hair, wincing when it felt sticky and gross, and reached back for his laptop, ignoring that first email for the time being, until he could come up with a way to politely reject that supposedly blessed opportunity.

He opened the second email then, reading it half-heartedly before the words started to actually register in his mind, and he sat up in a flash, reading it all over again, and then again from the top once he was done.

Grabbing his phone, he swiped the thousands of notifications from the group chat away before entering the number on his laptop screen with nearly shaking hands.

----

Entering the tattoo shop the following day, he was pretty much bombarded by flashbacks. He’d been there dozens of times since he’d begun dating Baekhyun, but still the first time he’d been there, that day he’d gone to get his tattoo, was branded in his mind.

He’d changed so much since then, he almost wanted to laugh at how nervous he’d been at the prospect of a simple tattoo. It was now that he had to be nervous, going to talk to Baekhyun. And apologize. Hopefully. If he even wanted to see him at all.

Minseok waved him to the back without a second thought, and then he was looking at Baekhyun, who was sulking as he stared at something over his design table.

Chanyeol took a step closer, not sure of what he wanted to say, but then Baekhyun looked up, looking startled for a moment. He looked sad, Chanyeol realized. He hadn’t been expected sadness, not really. Anger, most definitely.

“I was going to go see you yesterday, you know. But then you didn’t text or anything so I just thought…”

“I’m sorry. I needed time to… to think,” he finished lamely, wincing at his own words.

Baekhyun hummed. Chanyeol felt his awkwardness as a physical presence on the room, one that was yelling at him to just talk already.

“I’m sorry,” he said, just as the same time Baekhyun did.

That brought the first semblance of a smile to Baekhyun’s face, and Chanyeol felt hope bloom deep in his chest as he motioned for Baekhyun to speak first.

“I’m sorry. I- You know I-” he huffed, rolling his eyes and seemingly annoyed at himself, “The other night. It was dumb. I let my insecurities get the worst of me and made this whole deal out of everything and didn’t even hear you out. I get that talking to that man was an amazing opportunity you couldn’t blow off. And I never meant to make it sound like I don’t support you,” he motioned him to stop when Chanyeol opened his mouth to protest, “Because I do, and I want you to be able to get wherever you want in your career, and I’ll be there for you. Or I won’t, if that’s what you need. You know.”

Chanyeol crossed the distance between them in a couple of strides, engulfing Baekhyun in a hug that made him huff in surprise and cling to his back to not lose his balance.

“There are so many things wrong in what you just said, oh my god, Baek,” he said with a chuckle, balancing him from side to side, “I don’t even know where to start.”

So, he started by pulling Baekhyun to one of the couches on the side of his room. He then reassured him that the other night had indeed been dumb, but that it wasn’t just Baekhyun’s fault, because as much as Chanyeol hadn’t meant it, he’d behaved like an asshole. He then told Baekhyun how much he loved him, how much he loved his tattoos and everything they represented, every piece of Baekhyun’s soul. He told him how he totally got where he came from and why he got upset at him, and how he’d do his best to never make him feel that way again.

He told him about the offer, and the revelation of the day before, and how even if his dream had remained the same, which it hadn’t, he wouldn’t have accepted it if that meant leaving Baekhyun.

And he talked and talked, more than he ever remembered doing. He just needed Baekhyun to understand, even if he sucked at expressing himself, how much he meant to him. He wanted him to know that him rejecting the offer had nothing to do with Baekhyun, and everything to do with Chanyeol himself, but at the same time that he would deserve Baekhyun even less than he already did if he was willing to drop him for something as dumb as what people thought about him.

So, it was a lot to explain, and confusing even to himself, but when he finished talking, feeling lightheaded and out of breath, he was rewarded by the most beautiful smile ever.

“Wow, that was a lot,” Baekhyun chuckled. “Thank you for telling me all that, tho.”

Chanyeol let the silence settle around them for a moment, breathing in deeply after his rant.

“Are we okay?”

Baekhyun hummed, but the way he was smiling settled Chanyeol’s heart, “I think so. Things may be weird for a day or two and we’ll probably have to talk about this again but… yeah, we’re good.”

Chanyeol groaned, dropping his head on Baekhyun’s shoulder and rubbing his nose on his neck, “Thank god. I was freaking out so much, it was awful.”

Baekhyun laughed again, hand rubbing his back reassuringly before they heard someone clearing his throat.

“I hate to interrupt this beautiful moment,” Minseok said from the door, voice dry but amused, “But your two o’clock appointment is here and I’ve already stalled her enough, I think she’s getting antsy.”

And then he was gone and Chanyeol was tightening his hug on Baekhyun before letting him go.

“Wait for me here?” Baekhyun asked hopefully, already making his way out of the room.

Chanyeol nodded, settling back into the couch with a sigh. They were going to be okay.

----

He walked Baekhyun home that evening, once Jongdae had clocked in and complained about their quarrel ruining his romantic night the other day (he was happy for them, though. Chanyeol could tell). They walked side by side, mostly in silence.

Chanyeol felt slightly wrung out. He guessed that was what bearing your heart and soul caused. Still, he wanted nothing more than to go home and cuddle Baekhyun and Mongryong. And maybe watch a movie.

“So,” Baekhyun finally broke the silence, “Are you sure you’ll say no to the audition? Have you really thought it through?”

“I have,” Chanyeol shrugged, “I meant it when I said it wasn’t because of you. I honestly don’t want that for my life, you know? I want to be happy first and successful second, if that makes sense.”

Baekhyun hummed, “It does, actually. I just don’t want you to like… regret it or anything. Or end up resenting me,” he added with a smile.

Chanyeol gasped dramatically, pulling him closer into his side, making them wobble in the middle of the sidewalk, “I could never. I’m sure, I promise.”

Baekhyun tightened his hold around his waist.

“Besides, there’s actually one thing I didn’t get to tell you about.”

Baekhyun peaked up at him curiously, “Really? Even after you talked for so long?”

Chanyeol made as if he was going to push him away, “Do you want me to tell you or would you rather wonder what I was going to say for the rest of the day?”

Baekhyun chucked before making as if he was zipping his mouth closed, giving him that smile Chanyeol loved so much, the one that made him look soft and happy and pretty.

“There was another job offer in my inbox,” he said, almost confidentially, smiling when Baekhyun startled and straightened up against his side, “Yeah. Remember that lady we talked to at the event? The one with the tattoos?”

Baekhyun nodded. Of course he would remember. They’d spent a solid ten minutes talking about them, before Chanyeol had somehow managed to get into a rant about his kids and how talented they were, as he was prone to do. It had been the best conversation he’d had that night, other than the ones with his friends, and by the time the conversation was over Chanyeol had been sad to realize he hadn’t thought to ask about her job.

“Turns out she runs this organization… I’d heard about it a lot before and hadn’t even made the connection. They do like… outreach programs. For music and diversity and they hold like after-school activities and things like that. Anyways, apparently, he’d heard about me before, as in she knew that I was openly bi and conducting a pretty diverse orchestra. By, you know. Industry standards. So she liked me the other night when we talked and liked my general life philosophy or something, so yesterday she emailed me about working in one of their new-ish projects, that is an orchestra in itself. And every musician has something that would normally be rejected by regular orchestras, but that’s the whole point, you know? You show the kids and other people that you can be happy and make music and be yourself all at once? So I called her and we talked for like an hour and she told me all about it and said I could still stay with my kids in our orchestra but I could still perform regularly with these other great musicians and that she planned to expand it to be this whole like mentorship program? But that’s still in the air and we’re gonna have another meeting soon but. Yeah.”

He took a deep breath of evening air, realizing they were only a couple of blocks away from Baekhyun’s. He was startled by something that sounded a lot like a sob coming from beside him, and he turned to look at his boyfriend, who was now openly weeping.

“Oh my god, that’s so perfect. Like what the hell Yeol, that sounds literally made for you.”

He scratched his head bashfully, bringing Baekhyun closer to him once again, “I know, right? Still, it’s not a lot of money or a big orchestra or anything. But… it’s perfect, you know?”

Baekhyun beamed up at him, and Chanyeol was once again struck with how he was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Even if he still looked kind of weepy.

“I’m really happy for you. And really, really proud.”

Chanyeol leaned down to kiss the tip of his nose, then his forehead. Yeah, he was happy for himself, too.