Chapter Text
Baekhyun’s days started early.
He would wake in the small, quiet apartment he called home—alone, but never lonely. The place was modest, filled with secondhand furniture and sun-warmed curtains, the scent of vanilla candles clinging to the air. Despite working part-time jobs and studying on a scholarship, Baekhyun always made time for breakfast. Not because he enjoyed cooking, but because Chanyeol always showed up to eat it.
And today was no different.
There was a soft knock, followed by the familiar creak of the door swinging open without waiting for permission.
“Baek!” Chanyeol’s deep voice echoed through the space, paired with the sound of his heavy steps. “You better not be skipping eggs again.”
Baekhyun poked his head out of the tiny kitchen, lips tugged in a lazy grin. “You’re lucky I like you, Park.”
“Lucky?” Chanyeol threw his bag on the couch and wrapped an arm around the smaller boy’s waist, leaning down to steal a piece of toast from his plate. “You’re obsessed with me.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Baekhyun muttered, rolling his eyes. But he didn’t pull away from the hug. Instead, he leaned into it, letting the alpha’s warmth press against his side. It felt natural. Easy.
They were close—so close that their scents had mingled over time. Baekhyun’s light, calming fragrance always lingered on Chanyeol’s hoodies, and Chanyeol’s faint smoky scent often clung to Baekhyun’s skin. No one ever questioned it.
They were just Baekhyun and Chanyeol.
An omega and an alpha.
Best friends since childhood. Closer than most bonded pairs, even without the mark.
After school, they’d usually go to Chanyeol’s house. His parents adored Baekhyun—especially Mrs. Park, who always made sure the fridge was stocked with his favorite strawberry milk.
“Baekhyun, sweetheart, stay for dinner!” she’d say, ruffling his hair with affection. “You’re too thin. Is Chanyeol feeding you properly?”
Baekhyun would laugh, and Chanyeol would groan in protest.
They did homework together sprawled on the floor, shared earbuds on the couch, and sometimes, when the world felt too quiet, Baekhyun would curl up next to Chanyeol under a shared blanket—limbs tangled, hearts at ease.
“Oh no,” came Mrs. Park’s voice, dry as ever. “You two again?”
She walked in with a tray of sliced fruit and cold drinks, only to find Chanyeol and Baekhyun tangled together on the couch—Baekhyun half on top of her son, both of them wrapped in a fuzzy blanket like overgrown puppies.
Chanyeol looked up lazily, his arm draped around Baekhyun’s waist. “Hey, Mom.”
Baekhyun waved from under the blanket. “Hi, Mrs. Park.”
Mrs. Park sighed as she set the tray on the table. “You’re both adults now. An alpha and an omega cuddling like this—it’s not proper anymore.”
Baekhyun only snuggled closer, pressing his cheek to Chanyeol’s chest. “But he’s so warm and comfy!” he whined, grinning up at her.
Chanyeol chuckled, stroking Baekhyun’s hair. “Exactly. He’s cold-blooded. I’m just being a good friend.”
Mrs. Park pinched the bridge of her nose. “Chanyeol, this isn’t about being warm. You’re *twenty-two*, not ten! People will talk.”
“So let them,” Chanyeol replied. “We’re not doing anything wrong.”
“You’re cuddling like mated alphas and omegas in my living room!” she snapped, though her voice had that familiar edge of exasperated affection.
Baekhyun lifted his head with a mock-innocent look. “Would it be better if we were mated?”
Then, with a mischievous gleam in his eye, he leaned down and pretended to bite Baekhyun’s neck. “Maybe we should just mark each other. That’ll shut everyone up.”
“YAH!” Mrs. Park shouted, almost dropping the pitcher. “Chanyeol Park!”
Baekhyun burst into laughter, slapping a hand over his neck in mock horror. “You almost gave your mom a heart attack!”
Mrs. Park stomped closer and smacked Chanyeol lightly with a throw pillow. “Don’t joke like that! That’s not funny—do you know what people would say if someone saw you doing that?!”
Chanyeol wheezed, trying to shield himself. “Okay, okay! We’re just joking!”
Baekhyun peeked up from under the blanket. “We’re just friends.”
“Very cuddly friends,” Chanyeol added, snuggling right back into him.
Mrs. Park looked between the two of them, clearly unconvinced but too tired to argue further. “One day, you’re going to give me grey hair,” she muttered, turning away.
“You already have some,” Chanyeol called out with a smirk.
She gasped. “You ungrateful child!”
Their laughter filled the house, soft and carefree.
They weren’t mates. They weren’t in love—at least not for Chanyeol. But there was a kind of warmth between them that didn’t need labels. And for now, that was enough for Baekhyun.