Chapter Text
Baekhyun wasn’t good at expressing himself. His crooked tongue gave him a horrible lisp, his crooked teeth an embarrassing smile and his stupid chords like to give out like a dying battery. He had a club though, a club nobody joined and he was the solitary member of. He strolled away from the plain, suburban town and into an old house where land developers haven’t broken ground on yet. The family left a treehouse, hidden in their lucious and untrimmed backyard so he hid there after school.
Inside, he had inflated a cheap pink sofa from the toy section of the supermarket in which his overworked and tired mother spent most of her hours. There was a dart board with no darts to throw, a stack of cards he never touched and a journal he wrote in every day. If his mouth wouldn’t work properly, then he could write down all his complex thoughts down in the journal passed down from his recently deceased grandfather.
In the treehouse, Baekhyun watched the group of kids play hopscotch on the sidewalks, build little hockey rinks on the street and play tag around the block. Baekhyun watched out the little window of the hidden treehouse happily, curious to what it’d be like to have a real friend in the flesh, not just some pineapples and watermelons with googly eyes and silly string glued on to appear like a face.
He didn’t consider himself lonely per se, just uninvited or forgotten by the neighbors children. That didn’t mean he had nobody, he had his pet turtle, Maurice, some fruit friends and a little bird that followed him around every morning for some fresh seed. He’d eagerly place his hand out the window and the brown birdie could come right to his open palm and nip at the seed with trust.
Internally, he thought he’d had to visit the library someday to figure out what kind of bird this was. Small, round, cute and trusting, it was surely one of his best friends (after his turtle of course).
But one day, while staring out the window to a clear, summer sky, a moving truck drove into town which gathered the attention of every child on the populated block. Inside the homes, parents were preparing welcoming meals to give to the new couple arriving right by close to Baekhyun’s house. Kids surrounded the moving truck with their toys and climbed over one another to see the new kid step out of his parents black truck.
Once he came out, Baekhyun was entranced. He was tall for his age, lanky and with long black hair, a red checkered shirt and some dark blue jeans. He was slim, more defined with less baby fat than the other kids in town, maybe he was older. When the boy stepped out of the car, he waved kindly to the curious kids around the moving truck before being ushered to the home by his parents.
That’s when Baekhyun’s happiness washed off his young face and shifted to a deadly mix of sadness and rage.
They were heading right for the abandoned house where Baekhyun’s beloved tree house was. The home outside of his usually empty and bland home, a place he couldn’t part with.
He climbed down from the little house on the ladder he had made and growled to the surprised parents. Their son hid behind his father’s freakishly tall legs, maybe that’s where his odd shaped son got them from. Baekhyun stomped his foot and the parents turned stern.
“She didn’t mention there was a homeless kid here.” The father spoke in confusion.
“That treehouse is my home!” Baekhyun shouted but knew the response already.
The mother stepped closer and leaned her ear in, “I’m sorry. Could you repeat that?”
Baekhyun sighed, he’d been through this many times, “That treehouse!” He pointed to the old structure almost obstructed by overgrown hanging trees, “My second home!”
Though he spoke slowly, the parents still took some moments to comprehend his words. The father stroked his chin while the mother leaned in to whisper something before leaning back down to Baekhyun’s level.
“Sweetie. Speak slower and clearer.”
“Second. Home!”
“Oh? You don’t have a home?” The mother looked worried.
“Second!” Baekhyun said and lifted his fingers up to make a two. He then pointed to his real home just two houses over and then pointed back here.
“Oh? You like hanging out there?” She said and he nodded firmly.
“Well. This is our home now.” The father spoke sternly, “I think it's time to get back to yours.”
“Dear!” The mother said, “He likes it there. Let him visit it from time to time, eh?”
“But this is our property and I’m not going to be housing this stray like a lost mutt.”
The parents continued to raise their voices at each other and Baekhyun lost interest in what they were saying. Instead, he made his way to search for their shy son who timidly stepped away from behind his father’s long legs.
“Hi!” Baekhyun said cheerfully and offered his hand out, “Byun Baekhyun!”
“Okay. Bam Baekham?” The son said, confused.
“No! BYUN BAEKHYUN!” Baekhyun tried to emphasize the y’s and n’s more.
“Oh! Baekhyun.” The son nodded and repeated the name on his tongue a few times more, “Baekhyun Baekhyun Baekhyun… I’m Chanyeol. Park Chanyeol.”
They shook hands and when Chanyeol let go, it was dirtied in dirt and chipped wood. He wiped his hands on his dark blue jeans and chuckled nervously at the boy who couldn’t stop smiling, it made his chubby cheeks flare it even more.
“Friends?”
Chanyeol timidly nodded and turned back to face his father who was lost in conversation with his mother.
“Friends. But not now, I have to unpack.”
Chanyeol left and Baekhyun stood there hoping he’d come back outside shortly but after quite a few minutes of waiting and with the family busy inside, Baekhyun sighed and retreated back into his treehouse and watched their shadows in the windows from afar. He’d do it until his mother got off work well beyond hours that a child should be outside and hollered for his name. Before that would happen, he stared peacefully out the window with the turtle on his lap and a juicebox in the other hand.
Chanyeol had said he’d be his friend. Even though it was cut off very short, that was still the kindest interaction he’d ever had with another child around the block.
Baekhyun giggled and clutched to his heart after putting the juicebox down on the side table.
He hoped Chanyeol was different, hoped he was the special light that would shift Baekhyun’s solitary life.
After a day at school filled with exhausted teachers sick of explaining the same math formula to him, over and over again, Baekhyun was let out of the suffocating halls and classrooms to fresh air. There was nothing that would compare to the raw beauty of the outdoors. If he had his way, everything would be outside, in the fresh air of the small and quiet town where everyone knew the other, where life was peaceful and friendly. At least that’s what Baekhyun had observed, sure everybody knew him but not personally, only referred to him as the kid with the weird tongue.
But Baekhyun’s style of speech was his own, his choice of hiding away in the treehouse and adventuring into the flat and buzzing meadows was of his own wishes. Sometimes he thought he should change those wishes so he could finally learn what four corners was, the rules of soccer and the hype of hide and seek but he stuck to what he knew.
Baekhyun counted his footsteps from school to the house where his treehouse was. Well, he tried but forgot how to say numbers over one hundred so he estimated it was some very large and long number. He never really understood the concepts of math all too well, leading every teacher to nearly smash their head into the walls out of frustration. The boy never learned, they said, Baekhyun thought he’d just have to pay attention harder and then he’d learn.
He was optimistic he would begin to understand even if they weren’t.
When he got to the front lawn of the home, the treehouse was barred off with a newly built fence that the father was still working on. It was a classic wooden painted white, akin to all the other homes in their monochrome and simple neighborhood.
Baekhyun cheerfully skipped with his hands on his pink backpack straps to the father and smiled wide.
But when he did, the father tilted his head in curiosity.
“Never been to a dentist. They’d slap some braces on you asap. You need it desperately.”
“This gives me a special smile!”
“Yeah whatever, kid.” The dad didn’t even attempt to ask what he said, “You know, if this is about your stupid treehouse then go talk to Chanyeol. It's his play-yard now and I don’t know if he wants to let strangers in.”
“But we’re friends!”
“You’re not fwends yet.” He said mockingly, “Go talk to him.”
Baekhyun, determined as always, took on the challenge and came up with an idea in his excited head. He gripped onto his backpack straps and eagerly marched away into the little meadows surrounding the town.
Once in a field full of beautiful flowers blooming brightly in the middle of summer, he took the backpack off and started picking out flowers and stuffing them and their roots in the glass jars he carried around in case he wanted to bring a pretty flower or little bug with him. He picked lilacs, feminine pink poses, golden sunflowers and others he forgot the name of. Whatever they were, Chanyeol would surely love the thought of these gifts.
So when he was marching back to Chanyeol’s home, he was delighted to see the boy sitting on the porch with a pencil and sketchbook in hand. He was gazing up at the sunset sky, just turning into a dark night and his brown eyes were sparkling at the shimmering sky.
Baekhyun waved from the sidewalk and Chanyeol put down his pencil and sketchbook. Chanyeol climbed down from the porch and smiled at a cheery Baekhyun.
“Hey? What did you come for? Wanna cloud watch together?”
Baekhyun politely nodded no and gestured toward the treehouse. Chanyeol lifted his brows curiously.
“Oh? You want to go in there? Isn’t that thing super old and lame?”
Baekhyun affirmed by nodding no, “Never! Come see how I made it!”
Chanyeol dug the keys to the gate from his burgundy cargo shorts and let Baekhyun into the backyard. Immediately, the eager boy ran around the yard which had recently been cut so the weeds weren’t overgrowing. He jumped around the yard with glee and urged Chanyeol to hurry forward.
“Why did you cut the weeds?”
“Huh? The weeds? Oh. My parents thought they could lose me if they were so tall.”
“But that made them fun! Hiding!”
Chanyeol shrugged as Baekhyun hurried up the wobbly ladder up to the treehouse.
“If you think so.” Chanyeol said before trying to get on the ladder but he quickly got nervous when it began to shake.
“Sorry!” Baekhyun called from inside, “I’m off now.”
“Sowwy.” Chanyeol chuckled lightly to himself and started climbing the short journey. When he got in, he couldn’t have expected the boy to create a little hideaway so cozy and lovely.
There were old white Christmas lights across the ceiling, handmade paper snowflakes and flowers also hung from above. There was a cheap but comfortable for two inflatable sofa by the side of the window and a little end table with some fruity scented candles. There was also a watermelon, pineapple and school bag shoved off the side where a pile of hand knitted blankets were in case of cold winter nights. The space was tiny yet Baekhyun had managed to squeeze in a display table for flowers in blue pots, books about forest animals, strawberry juice boxes and a VHS with some boxes by the side.
“No way. You did all this?” Chanyeol said in wonder.
Baekhyun giggled and nodded. He was practically bouncing on his little feet while digging out the things from his backpack. He put some fresh flowers in mason jars into Chanyeol’s crowded arms as gifts. Then, he pulled out a jar with a large, green grasshopper inside and Chanyeol jumped back.
“Scared?”
Chanyeol cleared his throat, “Kinda. I hate them.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Baekhyun said as he opened the jar for the grasshopper to hop out the window and he waved it goodbye with a little pout.
“Well now it's in my backyard!”
“It’s okay. It won’t get inside.”
“Sorry to ask but,” Chanyeol set down the jars of flowers to have open hands again, “Why do you talk like that?”
“Hm? Well apparently, there’s something wrong with my tongue, throat and something else I can’t remember. But I don’t mind! It sounds different.”
Chanyeol took a minute to understand what Baekhyun had just said but eventually got it.
“Wow, that’s a lot of confidence for someone with a disability.”
“Disability?” Baekhyun's big puppy eyes shifted and Chanyeol felt an urge to comfort him, finding those droopy orbs looking sad so uncalled for.
“Well… Aren’t you disabled. Don’t you have a speech problem?”
“Oh. I just thought it was different? I didn't know it was wrong?”
“It’s not wrong, it's just…” Chanyeol scraped the thought, “Let’s talk about something else?”
“Like what?”
“How did you make all this?”
It turned into night with Baekhyun talking slowly, trying not to let his lisp or tongue get in the way of talking to a new friend. It was the first time he had another sit on his uncomfortable pink sofa and eagerly listen to him. Most others would shy away and tune out his words after a barrage of questions. They simply gave up on understanding his differences and left. So Baekhyun smiled like the happy, bright kid he was at heart when Chanyeol insisted to stay the whole night in the cozy little treehouse under the blankets talking about school, life and play in comfort.
Only when his dad called him did Chanyeol force himself to leave the warmth of the little cabin, and vice versa for Baekhyun once his mother was off work. They couldn’t describe the fuzzy, sweet feeling that flooded their bellies or the disappointment that came one they weren’t facing each other.
Whatever it was, Baekhyun couldn’t be more glad he’d found someone willing to listen.
When Baekhyun woke up, he barely tugged himself out of bed, hating the bright early morning where his eyes could barely comprehend all the sunlight seeping into his window. He groggily put on some clothes and made his way sluggishly to school where it was another day of teachers and students losing patience trying to speak with him.
In English, Baekhyun was called up to act alongside some other kids. They were reciting the paragraph of the assigned book this month and he tried to hide his mouth with the book while up in front of everyone.
“Okay, Baekhyun.” The female teacher said, “Your turn.”
When Baekhyun focused his eyes on the words, they were scrambling into one to his eyes. He struggled to comprehend when one sentence began, ended and what those words were. He nervously spoke out the words, reading them much slower and painfully incorrect than the other students. He could hear the deafening silence across the classroom and the teacher impatiently tapping her foot against the wooden floor. Once he was finished reading out his lines wrong, he gave a big smile to the classroom who began chuckling at his naivety.
“Okay, Baekhyun. We can work on those lines after class okay? For now why don’t you switch places with another student?”
“I can do it!” Chanyeol eagerly raised his long arm up.
“The new student.” She smiled softly, “How kind.”
“No. I can work with him.”
The other kids snickered and started whispering to one another. Chanyeol sat in confusion at the laughter and frowned to the teacher who she herself had trouble hiding her bewilderment.
“Chanyeol. He is a difficult student, with some issues you can’t tackle. Just let the staff handle it okay?”
“But I understand him. Why can’t I try?”
“Oh sure. Try but it’ll be very difficult.”
“I can hear.” Baekhyun said softly but the teacher, classmates and even Chanyeol ignored his quiet words. Baekhyun stood in front of everyone, embarrassed at how he was treated like a difficult question that no one wanted to solve, even try. He was just a boy, a boy with thoughts, a heart and dreams like anyone else but somehow, he was seen as a different entity entirely.
“Let me work with him, okay? I can try.”
The teacher secretly breathed a sigh of relief, trying to teach Baekhyun these words and math formulas he couldn’t understand was an annoying blight in her job, something she would gladly throw to some other poor student naïve enough to try.
On that day afterschool, Baekhyun and Chanyeol walked home together. Baekhyun held Maurice in his hands and Chanyeol carried their textbooks, they were to study together in the treehouse. They walked in a comfortable silence, taking in the gentle breeze rustling the trees and the sounds of happy giggling from children nearby playing on their front lawns.
Until Baekhyun flinched and Chanyeol became alerted. The boy clutching one hand on his head and holding his odd pet in the other.
“What happened?”
Another thing whacked Baekhyun in the head and Chanyeol turned around to see a bundle of children laughing with stones in their little hands. They flicked the stones at Baekhyun’s soft hair and left little chips in his head. Chanyeol marched back toward the group of boys and huffed to them.
“Hey cut it out. He’s just another kid and he’s holding his pet.”
“A pet only a freak like them would love. If we could, we’d hit that stupid old turtle but he guards that thing with his life.”
“Don’t! He’s innocent!”
“He’s weird.” A boy said and didn’t seem phased by Chanyeol’s confrontation at all.
“No he is not.”
“Oh don’t even deny it. The kid’s is a weirdo who spends all day in a rotten house with a turtle and imaginary fruit friends. Chanyeol, for your own sake. Don’t get involved with him, we don’t take kindly to anyone playing nice with our kicking bag.”
Chanyeol grabbed the pile of little stones of their hands and flung them all to the group. They winced and rubbed the stones off their faces which had little red cuts from the sharp ends of the stones.
“What the heck man?” One boy shouted but Chanyeol had already turned his back.
“Leave Baekhyun alone.”
In the treehouse late at night, they were again tangled under cozy hand knitted blankets that apparently Baekhyun had made, learning from his mother on the rare day she had off. The boy was writing down some notes in his book and Chanyeol peaked over to see that the writing was almost backwards, crooked compared to his. Baekhyun had let Chanyeol bring some of his likes and activities into the little house like his sketchbook and a book teaching about weather patterns, clouds formations and how the sky functioned.
“Is something wrong with my writing?”
“No. Just, it looks different.”
“Is that bad?”
“No no! I like it.” Chanyeol said honestly, “I like you.”
He tugged Baekhyun closer into his arms and chest. Eventually, the younger boy rested his head on Chanyeol’s chest and casually read the textbook and started yawning.
“Hey Baekhyun?”
“Hm?”
“If anyone ever tries to hurt you or Maurice or anything of yours again, call me, I’ll always hear you.”
“You’ll listen?” Baekhyun looked to him with innocent, youthful and hopeful eyes, “Even if you don’t understand?”
“I understand you, Baekhyun. I’ll always have my ears open for you. For you, anything.”
“Well this is kind of ridiculous but I’ve always wanted to be a singer but they say no one will listen to my voice if they can’t understand me.” Baekhyun mumbled.
“I will. I’ll listen to you anytime, Baekhyun.”
At their young age, they didn’t understand the complexities of love or serious relationships but they knew about crushes, about loving actions and kindness. So when Chanyeol tenderly kissed each one of Baekhyun’s knuckles, the boys both came to a sweet realization, about why they’d been feeling sweet butterflies flying around their tummies whenever they were alone together. The secret time spent alone and away from prying eyes was precious and these light, feather kisses on his knuckles only made Baekhyun more excited to what more they could do.
Baekhyun wasn’t thinking of other kids and their reactions but Chanyeol was, even if he didn’t want to.
How could the new kid like him fit in while developing a deep love for the town’s laughing stock? The outcast? The weird kid? Even if he thought he looked, sounded and talked like a fallen angel, banished from heaven for the disabilities he didn’t choose to own, Chanyeol loved him.
But would people love Chanyeol or their relationship?