Work Text:
Baekhyun finds himself in Jeju at one in the morning, in the middle of a living room that’s not his, folding laundry.
It’s the last night of their shoot for this variety dating show that he, best believe, did not see himself joining in. All he just remembered is that he received an email, one fateful midnight back in Seoul, from the production crew of Transit Love.
Apparently, he is being casted because his ex signed up to join the show. And this only works if the ex of his ex joins, too.
And yes, that’s him.
In the stillness of the midnight, a knock from the door breaks his peace. The door opens quietly.
“Baekhyun?”
He doesn’t need to look because the voice already gave it away. Chanyeol walks in, the ex in question for roping him up in this situation.
“What’s up?” He asks, still folding.
The man drops onto the carpeted space beside him. “It’s pretty intense out there.” He reports.
Baekhyun huffs a laugh. “I bet.” He stacks his clothes neatly. “So why are you here? Didn’t you like the ‘intense happenings’?”
Chanyeol reaches over, steals a shirt from Baekhyun’s pile, and starts folding it.
Baekhyun lets him.
“I realized I’m too old for this shit,” Chanyeol confesses.
Baekhyun bursts into laughter so hard he nearly tips over. “Wow. Took you long enough.”
They’re the oldest in the house. Thirty-three, both of them, making them practically honorary uncles compared to the rest of the cast.
Chanyeol shrugs, grabbing another shirt. “Why do you even have this many clothes? You barely go on dates.”
“Excuse me?” Baekhyun shoots back. “Look at yourself. You also barely leave the house. At this point, we should be paying rent.”
They both fell silent. It was a humorless remark.
Baekhyun only came because his mom insisted. She said he needed fresh air, something different from work, from the life he’s been quietly living.
On the other hand, Chanyeol confesses right after the ex reveal, that he didn’t do it. It was his friends’ deliberate initiative of emailing his application.
Then it was already too late to retract what was sent because apparently, Baekhyun had already confirmed.
Turns out, it was his fault. Unfortunately.
“Hey.” Chanyeol nudges him lightly.
Baekhyun blinks. “Yeah?”
“How’s it been? Being here.”
Baekhyun finally looks at him. And there it is. That same soft gaze. He exhales. “It’s been… good.”
“Yeah?”
“The others are nice,” Baekhyun adds. “And Jeju’s…” He smiles, small but real. “Jeju’s kind of perfect.”
Chanyeol nods. “Makes you want to stay.”
Baekhyun snorts. “At this point, production will soon charge us though.”
Chanyeol laughs, leaning back against the couch.
They sit there, shoulders almost touching, the quiet settling between them like something alive.
Baekhyun stares at the half-folded shirt in his hands. And for a moment, it’s easy.
Baekhyun never thought he’d sit like this. Laughing with his ex a decade after everything fell apart.
But here they are. Having a comfortable silence in between the mundaneness.
Baekhyun pulls his luggage next.
“You’re packing already?” Chanyeol asks the obvious.
Baekhyun nods in agreement. “I have to leave the day after tomorrow. I’m excited to go back to work!” He adds, dripping with sarcasm.
But seriously, he has to go back to work. He’s just thinking of his pending workloads and he’s almost trying to book the next flight back to Seoul.
“Okay then.” Chanyeol says, even clapping his hands with enthusiasm. “I’ll help you pack up. I have nothing better to do anyway.”
It was a generous offer. So generous that Baekhyun shoots him a dirty look.
Chanyeol chuckles, understanding his reaction. “Fine,” he starts. “In return, help me with mine, too please.”
Baekhyun’s reply came in the form of a flying (freshly laundered) sock dead in Chanyeol’s face.
Baekhyun doesn’t realize when the room gets quiet again.
At some point, the laughter fades. The pile of laundry disappears into neat stacks. And the clock ticks half past two.
But still, Chanyeol doesn’t leave.
“Is there really no one you’re interested in?”
Baekhyun glances up. “What?”
“Here,” Chanyeol says. “Anyone you like.”
The question lands softly but it doesn’t feel light.
Baekhyun reaches for another shirt, buying himself time. He lays it slower than necessary, eyes fixed on the fabric.
Everyone here is nice. They were all easy to talk to. Easy to laugh with.
He thinks of Minhyun, the man who showed interest in him. He is kind. Thoughtful. The kind of person Baekhyun should be drawn to.
However,
“No,” he says finally.
Chanyeol watches him carefully. “No one?”
Baekhyun shakes his head.
There’s a beat of silence. Then another.
He exhales.
“I think…” He presses a hand lightly against his chest, like he’s checking if something’s still there. “I think that part of me’s been gone for a while.”
Chanyeol frowns. “What do you mean?”
Baekhyun almost shrugs it off. Almost makes a joke.
But he’s been fully aware that all of what happened for the past hour has all been recorded. Everything is almost over. And somehow, it feels pointless to keep pretending.
When he remains quiet he sees Chanyeol’s face tightens.
“It’s not your fault,” he adds quickly. “Or anyone’s. I just—” He lets out a quiet breath. “I forgot how to do it.”
“How to do what?”
Baekhyun meets his eyes. “Fall for someone.”
The words hang there, heavier than he expected.
Chanyeol doesn’t answer right away.
“That doesn’t just disappear,” he says finally.
Baekhyun lets out a small, humorless laugh. “You’d be surprised.”
He leans back on his hands, staring at the ceiling instead of at Chanyeol.
“I got busy,” he says. “After everything… I just focused on what was in front of me. School. Work. Getting through the day without thinking too much.”
He pauses.
“And then it’s ten years later.”
The number sounds unreal when he says it out loud.
Ten years since everything fell apart.
Ten years since—
“You could’ve debuted?" Chanyeol presses.
“We,” he corrects.
And then quiet settles between them.
Baekhyun closes his eyes. For a second, he’s not in Jeju anymore.
He’s back in a practice room that smells like sweat and cheap air freshener. Back under fluorescent lights that never turn off. Back when everything felt like it was about to begin.
He remembers the countdown. The teasers. The way people said his name like it already meant something.
And Chanyeol, like they were initially part of the team, have become his anchor. His best teammate.
Until it wasn’t.
“It didn’t happen,” Baekhyun says, voice flat.
Chanyeol shifts forward. “Baek—”
“It’s fine.”
Baekhyun opens his eyes again, forcing a small smile that doesn’t quite reach anywhere important.
“It’s not like it was taken from me,” he says. “Not really.”
But they both know that’s not true.
It wasn’t just their debut. It was also everything that came after. The headlines. The comments.
The way strangers decided what he was allowed to be. Because of just a single photo.
The way of loving someone, loving Chanyeol, turned into something punishable.
Baekhyun looks down at his hands.
“They didn’t even let us explain,” he says quietly.
Chanyeol doesn’t speak.
“They just…” He exhales sharply. “Cut us out. Like we were never supposed to be there in the first place.”
The room feels smaller suddenly. Or maybe it’s just the past catching up. Baekhyun presses his lips together.
“I thought it was the end of everything,” he admits. “So I made it one.”
Chanyeol’s voice is softer now. Careful.
“And now?”
Baekhyun considers that.
He thinks about his parents. The way his mom still calls him in the morning just to ask if he’s eaten.
He thinks about the quiet days. His stable work. A life that doesn’t feel like it’s about to collapse at any second.
He thinks about this show and how, somehow, he said yes.
“I’m okay,” he says. “I’m not that person anymore.”
Chanyeol studies him like he’s trying to decide if that’s a good thing. “And the music?” he asks.
Baekhyun smiles faintly. “I still listen.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.”
A pause.
Then Baekhyun shrugs, softer this time. “I think… it just wasn’t meant to be mine.”
Chanyeol exhales through his nose, shaking his head a little. “You really believe that?”
Baekhyun tilts his head. “Don’t you?”
Chanyeol doesn’t answer. And that says enough, more than anything.
The silence stretches, but it’s not uncomfortable. Just full.
Full of things they lost. Things they kept. Things they never got to say.
Baekhyun zips his suitcase halfway, then stops. “Hey,” he says, lighter now. “You’re the one who dragged me into this show.”
Chanyeol huffs. “I didn’t drag you.”
“You signed me up.”
“For the record, my friends did, and it’s not just you. Us.”
“That’s way worse,” Baekhyun exclaims.
That earns a real laugh. The tension cracks, just enough. Chanyeol watches him zip his luggage fully.
“For what it’s worth,” he says, “I’m glad you came.”
Baekhyun watches him for a second. Then he nods.
“Yeah,” he says quietly.
“…me too.”
When it was time to move to Chanyeol’s room, the night had settled into something quieter.
Not empty, just… softer.
Chanyeol lingers by the door. “My room’s a mess,” he says, like a warning.
Baekhyun raises a brow. “I’ve seen worse.”
“That’s optimistic.”
It’s not.
The second the door swings open, Baekhyun stops short. “…You live like this?”
Clothes are everywhere. Not messy in a careless way. It’s more like they’ve been dropped and forgotten mid-thought. A chair buried under jackets. A suitcase half-open, half-spilled.
Chanyeol winces. “In my defense, some of that isn’t mine.”
“Some?” Baekhyun steps inside, nudging a pile aside with his foot. “This looks like a crime scene.”
Chanyeol laughs under his breath, closing the door behind them. “You said you’ve seen worse.”
“I lied.”
Baekhyun heads straight for the laundry area before he can be dragged deeper into the chaos.
The washing machine hums quietly.
“You already did your laundry?” he asks.
Chanyeol leans against the wall. “Started it before I came to find you.”
Baekhyun glances back at him.
There’s something strangely familiar about this. Like stepping into a version of their past that never fully disappeared.
“…Baek.”
He pauses.
It’s been a while since he’s heard that. Not Baekhyun. Not anything formal. Just Baek.
He doesn’t say anything about it. Just turns back, reaching for the freshly washed clothes when the cycle ends.
They fall into place again without trying.
Sitting across from each other. A pile of clothes between them. Quiet filling the spaces where words don’t need to go.
For a while, the only sounds are fabric shifting, and the occasional rustle.
“So,” Baekhyun says, smoothing out a shirt, “you still do music?”
Chanyeol doesn’t answer right away.
“It’s… the only thing I know how to do,” he says finally.
Baekhyun glances up. It’s the same tone. The same quiet certainty. Some things really don’t change.
“I figured,” Baekhyun says. “You were always the best at it.”
Chanyeol lets out a small breath, almost like a laugh but softer. “That’s a stretch.”
“It’s not.”
Baekhyun folds the shirt carefully, more focused than necessary. “You don’t hear yourself,” he adds. “But I do.”
That earns him a look. A real one this time.
Chanyeol’s ears are faintly red. “…Thanks.”
Baekhyun hums in response, like it’s nothing. But there’s a warmth in his chest that wasn’t there earlier.
“So where are you based now?” he asks. “You mentioned Japan during the reveals.”
Chanyeol nods. “Yeah. Been there a while.”
“How long is ‘a while’?”
“Eight years.”
Baekhyun pauses mid-fold. Eight. That’s almost the entire time they’ve been apart.
“Why Japan?” he asks.
Chanyeol shrugs, gaze dropping to the shirt in his hands. “It was easier,” he says. “Starting somewhere no one knew me.”
Baekhyun doesn’t push. Because he gets it. More than he wants to.
“I worked behind the scenes at first,” Chanyeol continues. “Small projects. Compositions. Stuff like that.”
Baekhyun nods slowly. Then,
“Are you still doing that?”
A beat.
Then Chanyeol scratches the back of his neck, suddenly looking like he regrets bringing it up at all.
“…Not exactly.”
Baekhyun narrows his eyes slightly. “What does that mean?”
“It means…” Chanyeol exhales. “I might have put out some of my own stuff.”
“Some,” Baekhyun repeats.
Chanyeol makes a face. “Don’t make it a big deal.”
“I’m not,” Baekhyun says immediately. (Read: He is.)
“What name?”
Chanyeol freezes.
Baekhyun blinks. “You do have one, right?”
“…I do.”
“Okay,” Baekhyun leans forward slightly. “Then what is it?”
Chanyeol reaches for the nearest piece of clothing and, without thinking, lifts it to cover his face.
Baekhyun stares. “…Is that—”
Chanyeol looks down.
Freezes.
It’s a pair of his own briefs.
There’s a beat.
Then Baekhyun loses it. “You’re unbelievable—”
“Okay, wait—” Chanyeol drops it instantly, face fully red now. “That was an accident.”
“That was not an accident,” Baekhyun laughs, nearly folding in on himself. “You just tried to dramatically reveal your identity using your underwear.”
“I didn’t know—”
“You picked it up!”
“It was dark!”
“It is not dark, Chanyeol!”
They’re both laughing now. Real and unfiltered, the kind that makes everything else
fade for a second.
Chanyeol rubs his face, still half-hiding behind his hands. “…LOEY,” he mutters.
Baekhyun stills. “What?”
Chanyeol sighs. “That’s the name.”
Baekhyun blinks.
LOEY.
The name settles in his head, clicks into place—
And suddenly, “Wait.”
He reaches for his phone, fumbling a little as he unlocks it.
“No, don’t—” Chanyeol starts.
But it’s too late. Baekhyun taps through his playlist, scrolling fast then stops.
“…No way.”
A song fills the quiet room, soft and familiar.
Chanyeol groans. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not kidding,” Baekhyun says, eyes wide. “This is you? Trace?”
He flips the screen around.
The artist's name is right there. LOEY.
Chanyeol covers his face again but this time with his hands, thankfully. “I was going to tell you later.”
“I’ve been listening to you,” Baekhyun says, half-laughing, half in disbelief. “For months.”
“That’s worse.”
“No, it’s not—” Baekhyun drops his phone onto the couch, turning fully toward him now. “Hibi is a great album.”
Chanyeol peeks at him through his fingers. “You don’t have to say that.”
“I know.” Baekhyun’s voice softens, just a little. “That’s why I am.”
For a second, neither of them moves. Then Chanyeol exhales, shoulders dropping.
“…Thanks.”
Baekhyun grins. “You’re welcome.”
A pause.
Then, unable to help himself, “Minasan, LOEY desu!”
“Stop,” Chanyeol groans immediately, reaching over to shove him lightly. “It’s three in the morning.”
Baekhyun laughs, ducking away. “I’m just supporting an artist.”
“You’re being loud.”
“You’re famous.”
“I am not—”
Baekhyun cuts him off with a grin. “Yet.” That earns him a look. Something softer this time. Thoughtful.
“…It’s not really about that,” Chanyeol says.
Baekhyun tilts his head. “No?”
Chanyeol hesitates. “I don’t know if I want more,” he admits. “I mean—I do, but…” He shakes his head. “It’s different when it’s your name out there.”
Baekhyun studies him quietly. “You’re scared.”
Chanyeol huffs. “That obvious?”
“Only to me.”
A small smile tugs at Chanyeol’s lips. Baekhyun nudges his shoulder lightly.
“You don’t have to decide everything right now,” he says. “Just… don’t close the door before you even try.”
Chanyeol looks at him. Really looks. “…When did you get so wise?”
Baekhyun snorts. “I’m not wise.”
“You sound like it.”
“I sound like someone who’s tired,” Baekhyun corrects.
That earns a laugh. Soft this time.
Easy.
The kind that doesn’t demand anything.
They finish folding the rest of the laundry like that. Talking in between, quiet in between, slipping into something that feels almost like before.
And by the time they’re done, the sky outside has started to lighten.
Baekhyun stretches his arms over his head, groaning softly as he leans back onto the carpet.
“Hey move to my bed," Chanyeol says.
“Why bother? I’m already comfortable.”
“It’s dirty.”
Baekhyun bolts upright with a shriek.
Chanyeol grins. “We don’t wear slippers here.”
Baekhyun immediately scrambles to his feet. “I need to shower.”
“I told you—”
“You told me after I lay down!”
Chanyeol laughs as Baekhyun heads for the door. “Wait up! I’ll walk you back,” he says, haphazardly throwing the towel he’s using to dry his hands.
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
Baekhyun glances at him. “…Then why?”
Chanyeol shrugs, falling into step beside him. “To thank you. For helping me out.”
“Ha?!” Baekhyun exclaims. “You made me fold all of your clothes and pack everything up and just say ‘thank you’? Dude—”
Chanyeol snickers. “Okay then, what do you want?”
“A signed Hibi.”
Chanyeol blinks. “What?”
“Your album,” Baekhyun says. “Signed.”
“You’re serious?”
“Very.”
Chanyeol narrows his eyes. “You’re going to sell it.”
“Pretend you don’t know a thing,” Baekhyun counters.
Chanyeol lets out a breath, shaking his head. “…Fine. I’ll give you one.”
Baekhyun grins. “Thanks.”
Chanyeol nods.
The morning light starts to crown the horizon in gold. For a second, neither of them moves. They just stand there, soaking in the beauty of it.
“Goodnight,” Baekhyun says.
Chanyeol huffs. “It’s morning.”
“Still counts.”
A small pause.
“…Goodnight, B.”
Baekhyun turns to open the door of his room. But for the first time in a long while, he feels fine.
Not anxious. Not scared either.
And when he walks inside and closes the door, the feeling came to him suddenly—
Somehow, they are going to be okay.
Twelve hours later, Baekhyun is told that Chanyeol is already waiting in the car.
He nods and takes the exit. His decision has been sitting with him for a while now. Quiet yet certain.
Still, his chest feels tight as he steps out into the late afternoon air.
The car is easy to spot. It was the only thing in the parking lot as of this time.
Chanyeol’s in the driver’s seat, hands resting on the wheel like he’s not sure what to do with them.
Baekhyun exhales once, then opens the passenger door. “Hey.”
Chanyeol looks up immediately. “Hi.”
Baekhyun slides into the seat, pulling the door shut behind him.
For a second, neither of them speaks.
“Have you had enough sleep?” Chanyeol asks.
Baekhyun nods.
A beat.
“And you?”
Chanyeol lets out a breath. “Yeah. I’m… good.”
It’s not convincing.
Baekhyun glances at him, then smiles a little. “You don’t look like it.”
That earns him a quiet huff of laughter. “I know.”
Chanyeol’s phone lights up between them. He picks it up, reads the instruction and sets it back.
The navigation says ten minutes. That’s all it takes to get there.
The car pulls out slowly and for a while, all they can hear is just the faint hum of the engine.
“This feels weird,” Chanyeol says.
Baekhyun leans his head back against the seat. “A little.”
“A lot,” Chanyeol corrects.
Baekhyun smiles faintly. “Okay. A lot.”
Another pause.
“It feels like…” Chanyeol trails off, then tries again. “Like this is it.”
Baekhyun turns his head slightly. “The end?”
Chanyeol nods once. “Yeah.”
Baekhyun watches the road ahead.
The sunlight is softer now. Not quite bright. Not quite dim.
In-between.
“Twenty days went by fast,” he says.
“Too fast.”
Baekhyun hums in agreement.
He thinks about the messages they sent each other every night. The careful words. The boundaries. The things they didn’t say.
(But if Baekhyun had any other way, it was also to tell Chanyeol he didn’t go here to date someone else.)
“I went out earlier,” Chanyeol says suddenly.
Baekhyun looks at him. “Yeah?”
“I met Jihyo.”
Baekhyun nods slowly. That makes sense. “And?”
Chanyeol tightens his grip on the wheel, just slightly. “She chose me.”
The words land gently.
Baekhyun isn’t surprised. Jihyo is kind. Warm. The kind of person who would choose carefully and sincerely.
“She’s a good person,” Baekhyun says.
“She is.”
A pause.
“She said she just made her decision based on how she felt for the last twenty days. But—” Chanyeol held his gaze with a fond smile.
“Nothing beats how I feel for the last decade.”
Baekhyun doesn’t move.
The car feels smaller. Quieter.
“Before you got in, I received a message that I should take you somewhere because someone wants to confess to you.” Chanyeol admits, voice lower now.
“Suddenly it was all just ‘what now?’ in my head. Because what can I do? I want it to be me.”
Baekhyun’s throat feels tight. Yet at the same time, relieved.
“I’m sorry, it’s you.” Chanyeol exhales like he had just let go of the air he has been holding up for too long. “It’s still you, B.
And if I don’t say it now, I know there’s no other chance left for me. And I’m pretty sure I would regret it for the rest of my life.”
The car slows slightly as they near their destination.
“I know things aren’t the same,” Chanyeol says. “I know we’re not who we were before.”
Baekhyun lifts his gaze.
Chanyeol’s eyes are welling with tears.
“But I’m still here.”
A pause.
“And if you let me,” his voice softens. “I want to stay.”
The car pulls to a stop.
Chanyeol leans sideways towards the window, silently wiping his tears away with his own wrist.
Baekhyun lets Chanyeol calm down. He’s also processing everything that has happened.
But outside the car, the cafe is in front. Minhyun is sitting by the window, across from them.
Waiting.
Watching.
Baekhyun exhales slowly.
Reality settles back in.
This is the part where he answers.
Before he can speak, his phone vibrates. It was from an unknown number but he answered it anyway.
“Hi,” he answers calmly.
“Hey,” Minhyun says from the other end, voice steady.
Baekhyun glances toward the café. Minhyun lifts his phone slightly, a small acknowledgement.
“How was the ride?”
Baekhyun smiles faintly. “Good. I have a good driver.”
Beside him, Chanyeol doesn’t move.
“Good,” Minhyun says.
There’s a pause.
“I won’t take long,” he continues. “I know where I stand.”
Baekhyun’s grip on his phone tightens just a little.
“I just wanted to say… I meant everything,” Minhyun adds. “And I don’t regret choosing you.”
Baekhyun closes his eyes briefly. “You’re a good person,” he says softly. “I’m really glad I met you.”
Another pause.
Then Minhyun exhales.
“…I figured,” he says, almost amused. “But I had to try.”
Baekhyun lets out a quiet breath.
“I understand.”
Then—
“But you see, I’ve got a man here who can’t even wipe his tears properly yet. I wish there’s any other way to tell it properly. But I can only do this.”
Silence stretches between them—brief, but full.
“I know. I’m rooting for you,” Minhyun says.
Baekhyun opens his eyes.
“…Thank you.”
The call ends. After they say goodbye.
And the car gets quiet again.
Baekhyun lowers his phone slowly. He doesn’t look away from the windshield.
“Hey,” he says.
Chanyeol doesn’t respond right away.
Then, “Yeah?”
Baekhyun turns to him.
Chanyeol’s hands are still on the wheel.
Still.
Waiting.
Baekhyun studies him for a second.
The tension in his shoulders. The way he’s holding his breath without realizing it. And suddenly it feels simple.
All of it.
Baekhyun reaches over. Not for Chanyeol’s hand.
Not yet.
He leans closer, brushing his thumb lightly under Chanyeol’s eye.
“Hey,” he says again, softer this time. “You missed a spot.”
Chanyeol blinks. “…What?”
Baekhyun smiles. “You’re bad at this,” he says.
At what, he doesn’t explain.
Chanyeol lets out a shaky breath. “B—”
“It’s a yes.”
The words come easy. Nothing grand, just purely clear and certain.
Chanyeol freezes.
Baekhyun leans back into his seat, like he didn’t just change everything.
“Drive,” he adds casually. “I’m hungry.”
For a second, Chanyeol just stares at him.
Then suddenly, “…Wait.”
Baekhyun laughs, shaking his head. “You heard me.”
“No, I—” Chanyeol runs a hand through his hair, completely thrown. “You’re serious?”
Baekhyun turns to him fully now. “I’m choosing you,” he says.
Simpler this time.
“It’s still you. After all these years.”
Chanyeol exhales like the air’s been knocked out of him.
Then he laughs—quiet, disbelieving. “…Okay,” he says.
He grips the wheel again, but this time it’s different.
Lighter.
The car pulls away from the curb. Baekhyun glances back once.
Minhyun is still inside the café.
Watching.
He lifts a hand in a small wave. Baekhyun returns it. Then turn forward.
The road stretches ahead. Chanyeol drives in silence for a bit.
Then—
“Ten years,” he says.
Baekhyun hums. “Yeah.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Surely, it is.”
A pause.
Then Baekhyun smiles to himself. “…We can take it slow.”
Chanyeol glances at him, something warm settling in his expression. “Yeah,” he says. “…we can.”
The villa comes into view not long after. It feels familiar. Temporary. But somehow different now.
Chanyeol parks the car.
Baekhyun steps out first, stretching his arms overhead, breathing in the evening air.
“Finally,” he mutters. “Freedom.”
Chanyeol laughs as he joins him. Then without overthinking, he reaches out, draping an arm loosely over Baekhyun’s shoulders.
Baekhyun stiffens for half a second. “…What are you doing?”
Chanyeol raises a brow. “What? I can’t?”
Baekhyun tries to look offended. Yet fails. “…You can,” he admits.
Chanyeol smirks slightly. “Thought so.”
They stand there for a moment. Side by side.
And it feels so easy. Like they’ve done this a hundred times before. Like they’ll do it a hundred times more.
Baekhyun glances up at him. “…Hey.”
“Yeah?”
Baekhyun smiles. “We’re okay.”
Chanyeol nods once. “Yeah,” he says.
“We are.”
And this time it feels like they finally get this to keep.