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Properties Of A Dying Star

Summary:

In the beginning, the world was constant, love was the hypothesis, and Park Chanyeol was his sole variable.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Disorientated responses were common, in rapidly changing light spectrums, as a result of sensory overload. One’s first instinct, when he looked up and found his gaze fixed upon the brightest star, was to close his eyes and turn away.

"That's exactly what I should've done,” Baekhyun said, glaring at Chanyeol, who was busying himself with the task of sorting out the letters he had collected earlier.

Chanyeol only looked up when Bakehyun elbowed him, letting out a pained yelp in the process. 

“What? It isn’t my fault you got stuck with me.”

“It’s your fault,” Baekhyun shot back, “Everything’s your fault.”

“Yeah sure.” Chanyeol absentmindedly adjusted the glasses perched on his nose, eyebrows furrowed as he set aside a letter addressed to Baekhyun - probably some useless travelling ads. “Whatever you say.”

“I’m right.”

“Yeah, sure, of course you are.”

“You’re just - ” Baekhyun didn’t get to finish his sentence because Chanyeol reached out, snaked his arms around Baekhyun’s waist, and silenced him with a kiss. The taste of daytime reminiscence was mostly sweet in Baekhyun's mouth as he kissed Chanyeol back.

 


 

 

i. white dwarf

 

 

“Can we increase the brightness a little?”

“Like this?”

“A bit more. Yeah, that’s good.”

“Anything else?”

“Just fix the top right corner of the backdrop and I think we’re all set.”

In spite of the amount of concentration he was putting in, one eye kept shut as he measured the distance between his lens and the set, Baekhyun was losing his focus. A deep breath rushed out of him as he lowered his camera and went back to adjusting the knobs, fiddling with the functions he knew all too well. It didn’t help; he was too distracted by the flurry of activities in the studio. He tried to remain calm. However, when he turned around and ended up coming face to face with the man of the hour, he almost dropped his camera.

“Baekhyun, right?” Chanyeol’s mouth split into a smile.

Baekhyun’s mouth went dry. Chanyeol looked as if he had inhaled too much caffeine before turning up at the set. Baekhyun didn't like that look, and so instead of returning Chanyeol’s smile, he simply nodded, lips pulled into a thin, straight line.

“That's right.” Baekhyun took a deep breath, “Just so you know, I’ve already heard quite a few things about you.”

Instead of faltering, Chanyeol took a step forward and extended his hand for a handshake, which Baekhyun accepted. Their exchange only lasted for a brief second before Baekhyun pulled away, resolutely ignoring the way Chanyeol not so subtly swept his fingertips over his. A hint of an invitation lingered in Chanyeol’s brief touch.

“I hope they're all good things.”

“They tell me enough,” Baekhyun replied tersely.

“Huh. Now I'm a little worried.” Chanyeol sounded like he was just humoring Baekhyun and that managed to get on Baekhyun's nerves all too quickly.

And that was that.

It was later when Chanyeol was made to sit in a throne made out of wood and gold paint and buckets of glitter, decked in clothes fit for a king, that Baekhyun was able to see for himself the man who had charmed millions with his looks. Through his lens, Baekhyun took in the most intimate details: Chanyeol leaning forward ever so slightly to give him a better angle, the way the actor’s eyes fluttered shut when the stylists were fixing his hair with tons of hair spray, nose scrunched, and the way his gaze would flicker over to meet Baekhyun’s when they both knew that nobody else was paying attention to them. Baekhyun felt as though they shared a secret that the world mustn't know about.

The lights came on and Baekhyun blinked back his surprise when the assistant director called for everyone’s attention. They were going for a second round for the photoshoot and Baekhyun fumbled a little with his camera as the whole studio went quiet, bated breaths signalling another cycle of posing, angle adjustments and the almost therapeutic click-shut sounds of Baekhyun’s expert lens. Chanyeol was giving Baekhyun all that he had and as Baekhyun matched his pace, capturing perfection in pixels. At the end of the day, it was a race without a definite winner.

“And...that’s a wrap!”

“Good work, everyone!”

“Thank you for the hard work!”

In the midst of a crowd of tired but happy people, Baekhyun moved fast to keep his things, double-checking to make sure that he had everything he brought from his office. So engrossed in doing so, he startled again when Chanyeol appeared to stand next to him. Chanyeol laughed and his laughter rang in the space between them.

“What do you want?” Baekhyun, all packed and ready to go, finally asked.

“I was wondering if you're free to have a cup of coffee. My treat.”

“With you? I don’t think so.” Baekhyun made to step away, but Chanyeol’s hand fell on his shoulder and Baekhyun stilled.

“Why not?”

“Because spending time with you means talking. Talking means getting to know you better. And I don’t really want to know you.” The words, for some reason, sounded petty and childish in Baekhyun’s head. He worked quickly to shrug that thought away.

“What if I do? What if I want to know more about you? Everything about you?” Chanyeol sounded like he didn’t even know what he was talking about.

Baekhyun mimicked Chanyeol’s laugh, letting it bubble and pop in his mouth before it escaped him in a hurry. “Everything? A tad hasty, aren't you? Does that line work on everyone?”  

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chanyeol shifted, brows furrowed as he moved a step back. Baekhyun tried not to show the weak flurry of triumph he felt.

“It means I’m not going to fall for your pickup lines.”

“That wasn’t a pickup line,” said Chanyeol firmly, his frown hadn’t completely faded.

“Of course you’d say that.” None of it was supposed to matter. In fact, Baekhyun shouldn’t still be standing here, letting Chanyeol convince him otherwise.

"Oh come on,” Chanyeol tried again, looking awfully sincere.

But he’s an actor, remember? Baekhyun let out a heavy sigh because he knew he was going to give in. Chanyeol realized that too, because his frown gave way to the widest grin Baekhyun had ever seen. Baekhyun made a mental note to bring duct tape the next time they meet. Except there won't be a next time, he reminded himself.

“Let me prove you wrong,” Chanyeol offered.

Baekhyun had to admit that he was the least bit tempted to give it a shot. Just a shot, just this once.

“Fine, but not today,” he said, “I’ll get your number and we’ll fix a date.”

Unfazed, Chanyeol nodded, grinning as he gave Baekhyun a thumbs up, “So it’s a date, huh?”

Baekhyun shot him a look. “Don’t push your luck.”

 

 

"You're working with who ?"

"Park Chanyeol," Baekhyun said, fingers starting to busy the loose button on the collar of his dress shirt as Kyungsoo took his gaze off the menu. It's not as it Kyungsoo was going to pick something different anyway, he always ordered Set B with extra sauce. Jongdae, on the other hand, liked to spin his options like he would a wheel of fortune and go with a random selection each time.

"As in - "

"As in the Park Chanyeol, the one the media can't shut up about, yes."

There was a beat of silence.

"You should be careful," Kyungsoo said. The words didn't faze Baekhyun - he had heard them before - but the seriousness of Kyungsoo's expression did.

"Is he anything like - ?"

"No," Jongdae wrote down his order on the order form they were given and buzzed for the waiter, then turned back to the conversation, "I'm pretty sure Park Chanyeol doesn't have bizarre kinks, he also doesn't have a horrendous preference for all things pink, nor does he live with his parents at the age of 25 - "

"You still live with your parents though," Kyungsoo interjected, looking at Jongdae with much amusement. One could tell from the way his eyes shone like he knew he'd won.

"That's filial piety. What's-his-name was a disgusting leech. There is a big difference."

Kyungsoo didn’t look the least bit convinced, “Yeah, sure there is.” He ignored Jongdae’s indignant Hey! You're supposed to side with me! and turned back to face Baekhyun, looking extremely severe with his eyebrows furrowed like that. “I mean it, okay? Be careful.”

Baekhyun nodded and, as a reassurance, reminded himself that he was always careful. It's just a cup of coffee and most certainly not a date.

 

 

The cafe where they had agreed to meet was secluded and unremarkable, and the baristas made decent enough drinks so Baekhyun didn’t mind. He had arrived ten minutes early but instead of going in, he took an impromptu tour in the department store two streets away just so he could make Chanyeol wait. When asked, Chanyeol said he hadn’t been waiting for long and he was such a good liar that Baekhyun almost believed him.

Anodyne New Age music decorated the atmosphere at low volume and everything about the place was anonymous. It was almost empty except for a group of teens ‘studying’ by the door - two were sleeping and one hasn't stopped texting since Baekhyun's arrived.

“Espresso, really?”

Chanyeol paused in the midst of bringing his cup to his mouth. “Why not?” His eyes flickered down to look at Baekhyun’s drink - Caramel Macchiato - and it was clear that he, too, didn’t see the appeal in Baekhyun's choice of drink.

“Because if death has a taste, espresso would be it,” Baekhyun said.

“Well, it certainly looks the part.”

Baekhyun shook his head. “Yeah, which is why I don’t like it.”

Chanyeol laughed - it wasn’t even funny - and Baekhyun went back to spooning the whipped cream from his drink, smacking his lips with much satisfaction as he savored the taste.

“Well, I like it,” Chanyeol replied, eyes fixed on the way Baekhyun was licking his spoon clean. "And hey, it’s not like I’m here to deny you your rights to enjoy ridiculously sweet, diabetes-inducing drinks”

“To each our own, then,” Baekhyun abandoned his spoon in favor of finishing the last of his drink, biting on his straw out of habit. He didn’t realize that Chanyeol was staring at him until he looked up. “What? Is there something on my face?”

“I was just wondering.” It was a nice save on Chanyeol’s part, even if Baekhyun was still a little suspicious.

“Wondering what?”

Chanyeol grinned that stupid grin of his again, saying, “I’m wondering if you’re a fan.”

“Fan? Of whom?” Baekhyun made a face. “Of you?

“Hey,” Chanyeol said, objecting to Baekhyun’s contempt, “I happen to have a lot of fans, alright? I’m a ladies’ man.”

Baekhyun stared at him like he had met no one dumber. “In case you haven’t realised, idiot, I’m not a lady.”

There was a brief pause. Then, Chanyeol burst out laughing. He didn't sound the least bit apologetic, “Oh right. Sorry.”

Baekhyun rolled his eyes.

“Really though,” Chanyeol’s face was red as he said this and it looked like he was about to tear up from laughing so hard, “You should’ve seen your face.”

“Wow,” Baekhyun waited for Chanyeol to calm down. “Just because your acting is good and that I like it doesn’t make it okay for you to make fun of me - stop laughing!”

“So you do like my acting?”

Baekhyun had a lump in his throat but he couldn’t quite swallow it. He shouldn't have agreed to this meeting. 

“Can I safely assume that silence means yes?” Chanyeol’s voice was still teasing, but his voice was earnest.

The silence between them didn’t simply touch and go; it lingered. It was the kind which loved planting all sorts of images in Baekhyun’s mind if he were to close his eyes and so, this time, Baekhyun daren’t look away. Under Chanyeol’s watchful eyes, he nodded instead. Chanyeol laughed again, breaking the silence, and his eyes crinkled with satisfaction. It was then that Baekhyun turned away, busying himself with the task of staring out of the window.

Kyungsoo was right, as always, Chanyeol was dangerous.

 

 

 

 

“Are you up for another cup of coffee?”

Baekhyun startled, cursed when he almost dropped his pen and blamed his clumsiness on Chanyeol, who was leaning against the glass door, one hand still curled around the handle. Chanyeol stepped into Baekhyun's office like he owned it. Chanyeol was in smart-casual attire, with a tie hanging loose around his neck, and instead of a coat he was wearing exhaustion over his shoulders. He didn’t have his glasses on and Baekhyun assumed he was wearing hard contacts and from what he’d gathered from personal experience, the contacts were most probably the reason why Chanyeol’s eyes looked perpetually bloodshot.

“Espresso again?” asked Baekhyun instead of replying to Chanyeol’s question.

Chanyeol mouthed ‘yes’ but when he shooked his head immediately after doing so, having changed his mind. There was a moment of quiet. Baekhyun eyed Chanyeol curiously while the other held his gaze.

“Look, I don't think it's a good idea. Actually, I have a meeting - ”

Chanyeol was standing in his way. “I was thinking you can order something for me.”

“Oh.” Baekhyun scrutinized Chanyeol’s expression, as if he was trying to find an answer to a question he would never ask. “Well then, maybe I have some time to spare.”

The triumphant smile Chanyeol gave reminded Baekhyun that they were still keeping scores, so he made sure to order for Chanyeol a caramel frappuccino with three shots of sugar and extra syrup. While Baekhyun sipped on his preferred choice of drink - chamomile tea this time, he relished in the way Chanyeol looked like he was trying hard not to throw up. It was impossible for him to look away from Chanyeol, somehow, though he knew that, given the circumstance, Chanyeol would have liked him to.

Chanyeol managed to finish the drink and after his ordeal, held the empty cup in both hands, but it trembled anyway. He had dirtied his sleeves while suffering through the ordeal and winced with irritation, but seemed to decide that Baekhyun’s uncontrolled laughter was worth the agony in the form of glucose being injected into his system. Baekhyun was laughing so hard that he almost offended Chanyeol.

The sun set, the light angled down, and Baekhyun could count Chanyeol’s eyelashes when he looked down, smiling through the pain.

Eventually, coffee ‘dates’ became a regular thing for them to look forward to and Baekhyun began to wonder if it was meant to lull him into a sense of false security. He shot Chanyeol a look from across the room but for once, the other looked blissfully unaware that Baekhyun was looking at him. Without meaning to, Baekhyun’s mind lingered on the conversation he had with Kyungsoo the day before.

“He’s a good actor, isn’t he?” Kyungsoo pointed out and this, Baekhyun already knew.

Right from the start, he had already learned that Chanyeol was an puzzle he could never quite solve, and yet…

“Knock knock.”

Baekhyun almost jumped when Chanyeol’s voice called out, hand instinctively raised. “Do you have to always scare me like that?”

“Whoa,” Chanyeol muttered, eyes alit with amusement, “How was I supposed to know that you’re this easily startled?” He took a look at Baekhyun’s frown and shook his head, smiling, hands up in surrender and he allowed himself to look just a tad apologetic, “Alright, I’m sorry. The next time I’ll be sure to announce my arrival.”

“There’s no next time,” Baekhyun pointed out. He didn’t like the way Chanyeol’s hands dropped to his sides and how the other lost his smile. “Aren’t you going to start filming for your new movie next week?” He gestured to the set that was slowly being erased by the staff members; the throne had already been removed. “I mean, there’s no reason for us to meet anymore. So I guess this is goodbye?”

Chanyeol was quiet for a long while, then he asked, “How about one more drink?”

Chanyeol offered to drive and it was somewhere after they rounded the corner and past the cafe Baekhyun had grown familiar with that he realized Chanyeol was taking him somewhere else. He felt Chanyeol’s eyes on him but remained silent, letting soft music filling the space between them and turning his gaze to the blurred colors flashing past.

They didn’t have to wait in line and after being ushered to the table that had already been reserved, Baekhyun waited for a confession that never came. He knew, by then, that Chanyeol had planned this. Instead of pursuing the matter and asking for an explanation, Baekhyun reached for the menu propped by a fancy little stand and his eyes glazed lazily over the menu before deciding on the Crimson Rugelach. He took in the fustian chandeliers and breathed in the atmosphere of absolute propriety, holding back his urge to slump in his seat and shrink until he disappeared.

“What’s wrong?” Chanyeol asked, hands laid languidly on the table, just centimeters away from Baekhyun’s. Something gnaws at Baekhyun and with a shake of his head, he pulled back, dropping his hands on his lap, ignoring the way Chanyeol’s eyes followed his movement.

“Nothing.”

Chanyeol wasn’t convinced and neither was Baekhyun himself. They simply shared an ephemeral glance before Baekhyun looked away, back at the impressive display of glass and crystals that were probably worth more than he can imagine. His heart beat slow, then fast, and its rhythm fluttered whimsically amidst diners who had lots of talk about, oblivious to the tense silence that held the two of them captive. He wasn’t sure what he could say nor what he wanted to say. With Chanyeol, he was never sure.

Dinner turned out to be a quiet affair, interrupted only by Chanyeol asking him if the food was alright. Their conversation came in the appearance of sneaky glances and busy hands that longed to touch but daren’t.

It ended all too soon, with the two of them agreeing to split the bill but only for Chanyeol to reach for his card before Baekhyun could respond. The rest of the night was spent admiring city lights exploding through the car window, Chanyeol keeping his gaze straight ahead as Baekhyun watched buildings race across the panoramic expanse of the city’s keen portrayal of night time spent in colors as opposed to a messy splatter of blackness. Baekhyun wound up pressing his fingers to glass and leaving smudges; it was as if he had left his mark on the metropolis Chanyeol seemed determined to lead him out of.

“Where are we going?” Baekhyun grasped the importance of this question with a start and he glanced over to see Chanyeol’s reflection on his side of the car, and was mildly irked that he couldn’t read the expression Chanyeol wore on his face no matter how hard he tried.

Chanyeol, on the other hand, shook his head instead of replying. By the time Baekhyun was about to ask more, Chanyeol had killed the engine. Baekhyun was swallowing his question, let Chanyeol bring him up the seventh floor, and all the while, his mind was screaming at him to turn around, walk away, and never look back.

Somewhere along the way, Chanyeol’s hand had found Baekhyun’s and he was pulling him along, up the flight of steps and trapping them in the silence - save for the subdued whirring of the fan installed for ventilation - of the elevator. Baekhyun made a show of comforting himself by terrifying himself, making Chanyeol a greater monster than what he could possibly, if ever, become. He didn’t quite know what to think anymore.

They stumbled out of the lift when it went Ding! on the seventh floor, Baekhyun looking as lost as he felt before Chanyeol led him to his apartment. The rest was a blur, or perhaps not quite a blur. Baekhyun’s mind was fogged and he couldn’t warn himself even if he had wanted to.

The door was still open and Chanyeol didn’t bother closing it. Instead, he leaned in and kissed Baekhyun softly. An artist and Baekhyun his canvas, Chanyeol doused Baekhyun in a gentleness Baekhyun thought only lovers shared, painting promises with his lips, coaxing for Baekhyun to respond.

Baekhyun did just that, sucking and biting and giving as much as he took. He wondered, in that instant, how others before him had felt when Chanyeol kissed them like he was the fairy tale they thought they had long stopped believing in, like he was going to stay. The thought plagued him and it was what made him pull away. He took a step back when Chanyeol lurched forward in an attempt to chase after him, lips parted and confusion replacing the gentleness that would soon become a thing of the past.

"I can't do this."

Instead of protesting like Baekhyun had thought he would, Chanyeol simply stared. He looked at Baekhyun as it he didn't recognize him, and all that could have been was lost in that instant. Before Chanyeol could change his mind, Baekhyun was moving away and gathering his belongings and Chanyeol did nothing except to watch him go, door swinging before he stepped out and the slamming sound left Chanyeol with an ache in his chest he couldn't understand - an ache he didn't want to understand.

On the other side of the door, Baekhyun found it harder to breathe. He had saved himself; he heeded Kyungsoo's warning and yet, he couldn’t shake of the feeling that he made a mistake.

 

It was with much resignation that Baekhyun came to terms with the fact that he could never hope to understand how Chanyeol’s mind worked. One minute he was smiling at Baekhyun with the unadulterated candor of a child and the next he was the smug bastard Kyungsoo hadn’t stopped warning Baekhyun about.

A week after Baekhyun's hasty escape from Chanyeol’s apartment in what he had assumed to be a retreat from the relationship that nobody could put a name to, Chanyeol showed up at his doorstep.

"I asked around,” came the reply when Baekhyun asked.

Asked who? Baekhyun wanted to ask. He didn’t. Instead, he told Chanyeol to wait.

When he returned with a jug of water and two glasses, one for Chanyeol, he found Chanyeol inspecting the stack of photos he had placed on the shelves. For a moment, Baekhyun simply stood there, behind Chanyeol, watching Chanyeol’s fingers thumb the pictures so dear to him and watching Chanyeol discover a world no one else had yet found.

“You took these?” Chanyeol asked without turning around. 

“Yeah."

“I like them,” Chanyeol settled with, he placed the stack back on the shelf gently, carefully, and something about that gesture ruffled Baekhyun’s composure. “They are really, really good.”

“Thank you,” Baekhyun replied stiffly before reaching down for a cup of water, drinking as if it would save him from the jitters he was stuck with - they had stemmed from Chanyeol’s compliment. Suddenly, he found that he couldn’t understand his own feelings, not at all. When he looked back at Chanyeol, Chanyeol was seated across him, and there was amusement hidden somewhere in Chanyeol’s expression; it wasn’t on his lips and Baekhyun couldn’t quite pin it down however he tried. Baekhyun set down his cup, waited, then asked the question he had wanted to ask since just now, “Why are you here?”

Even though it was obvious that Chanyeol had something to say, the words just won’t come out. Each time Chanyeol hesitated and drew back, Baekhyun looked away as the answer bloomed inside him.

In the end, Chanyeol made do with a question. “Why did you leave?”

“Leave?”

“That night, in my apartment, why did you leave? You said you couldn’t do it and left, just like that. Why?”

Chanyeol sounded genuinely confused and Baekhyun felt like his mouth was too dry for him to come up with a response, and so there was no answer from him. Chanyeol took it as a cue for him to speak, to force something out of Baekhyun's passivity. He sucked in a deep breath and continued, “I thought long and hard about it. We had something, didn’t we?” All of a sudden, the hesitance and the nervousness in his voice was gone. Baekhyun wondered if they were real, if they had actually been there, in the first place. “You wanted me and I wanted you just as much, if not more, right? We both knew what it’s all about.”

“You’re getting it wrong.”

Chanyeol came to an abrupt stop, blinking back his surprise when Baekhyun spoke. Baekhyun’s face was rigid, an affront.

“What is it, then?”

“It’s more than that,” Baekhyun tried to explain it. He tried to wrap his mind around it whilst he spoke, “It’s more than just wanting someone or wanting something. Maybe I don’t want you at all, okay? Maybe I don’t want this.”

He shook his head when Chanyeol stood. Chanyeol wanted to know more, to know for sure, but neither of them could provide a solution and it was with much frustration that Chanyeol left without a proper goodbye. Baekhyun, instead of working on the new assignment he had been given, stared at the glass of water he had offered to Chanyeol earlier and he stayed there, unmoving, for a while until the clock struck and signalled the start of a new hour. Then, overcame by an impulse he hadn’t felt in a long time, he gathered his stuff and stepped into his darkroom.

In his darkroom, he was finally alone. The city faded and so did the job he found he couldn’t enjoy but, no matter how he tried, Chanyeol stayed around. The only light in the room was red and it softly glowed, so sentient that Baekhyun could almost imagine that it was a living thing, one with a steady dum-dum-dum heartbeat and with things it would like to say to him. He made himself stop thinking about that, instead turning to the familiar sound of solutions sloping in trays he held. His hands usually didn’t tremble but this time, they did. Something was different about the film he was developing.

As he gently clipped and lifted it from the tray, a stranger’s features faintly start to twist before his eyes, a half-formed phantom with a familiar smile.

The next day was a Sunday. It was warm, if not a little stifling, and Baekhyun had another day off. He was sleeping in, arms curled around his pillow and as the sun colored his bedroom bright, his consciousness slowly woked. Like it was poison seeping in, it nudged him awake and he ignored it for a good while for the sake of enjoying the coolness of the sheets against the sun-roasted warmth of his skin. He couldn’t get up even if he tried, so he lied there under a heavy weight from yesterday - he had worked in the dark room till it was past midnight and as a consequence, he had also skipped dinner.

Baekhyun found himself thinking about the way Chanyeol made his heart race every time his skin touched his, mind wandering to the kiss. He then whispered Chanyeol’s name three times, making it a wish that remained a dream.

It was then that his phone rang and the magic was lost.

“I’m downstairs,” Chanyeol’s words shot through Baekhyun like a warning and he was out of bed in an instant, letting out a curse when he bumped into his desk in his haste to get dressed.

“Don’t you have a show to film today?” he breathed into his phone while trying to pull his pants up with his spare hand.

“Well,” Chanyeol sounded annoyed, “The female lead called in sick, so our scenes got pushed back. I need to be back there by noon, however.” He trailed off towards the end of his sentence, distracted. Baekhyun stared at his reflection in the mirror - hair messy and eyes smaller than they already were, still bleary from sleep. Chanyeol’s voice floated back just as he was about to step into his bathroom to wash up. “You’re free, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“I’ll come up, then?”

“Alright.” Baekhyun ended the call, running a hand down the side of his face in what felt a lot like frustration.

Two minutes later, Chanyeol was knocking on the door and Baekhyun, having dressed in a rush, took a while to open it for him. The smile Chanyeol greeted him with made it seem like the previous day hadn’t happened at all. Even so, the silence in the room after Baekhyun had closed the door was deeper than ordinary silence. At this point Baekhyun didn’t want to think about it.

They ended up sitting across each other, Baekhyun having prepared two slices of whole-grain bread and a glass of full-cream milk for himself. Chanyeol cleared his throat when Baekhyun was done eating and in spite of the breakfast he had just inhaled, Baekhyun was suffering from the pangs of anticipation.

“Can I try something?”

Baekhyun looked up and surprise, instead of oxygen, filling his lungs as Chanyeol reached out to take his hand and holding it in his. He held it with a conviction so strong that Baekhyun felt flattered. Following that, Chanyeol reached out with his other hand - his arm was terribly long - and Baekhyun closed his eyes and all he could feel was Chanyeol’s hand against his cheek; there was something intimate about the gesture and he had to, in his head, remind himself that he shouldn’t get his hopes too high. As for the way his face grew hot, there wasn’t much he could do about that.

“I want to try,” Chanyeol spoke in riddles and Baekhyun didn’t quite understand them - maybe he liked to think that he didn’t - but he nodded anyway. “Let me try.”

“Okay," Baekhyun whispered.

Before he left, Chanyeol kissed his forehead. Baekhyun remained frozen even after the door had clicked shut, drowning in the kind of silence that was never just silence. Then the silence receded, giving him room to breathe, the clock sounded as his heart skipped a beat.  

 

It was nice, Baekhyun thought, to have someone to wait for. It was just as nice to have someone to come home to. So nice, in fact, he forgot about the little things he kept telling himself not to miss.

Chanyeol had never been the most reliable person in the world because of his job. He worked late some days and his schedule was always changing, but Baekhyun couldn’t say anything about it because his own job, too, required a lot from him. Sometimes, it got a little too much but he never complained.

They settled with the routine of waiting: waiting for the other to say something, waiting for the other to do something, waiting for whatever it was that they shared to bloom into something they could grow to love, to cherish.

Instead, it withered (slowly but surely).

 

There were days when they meet and Chanyeol wouldn’t ask Baekhyun how he was. All seemed to spelled out by the tune Baekhyun hummed under his breath and the smile he gave Chanyeol when he opened the door. On days like that, Chanyeol looked at Baekhyun different; he had a stare that stretched to infinity. He also wouldn’t complain when Baekhyun took out his camera and started taking pictures of him spacing out, nor when Baekhyun made him eat something awfully sweet.

Chanyeol came straight from work, wearing nothing but a loose tee and jeans, hair still wet from the commerical he was shooting. Baekhyun shot him down when he offered to help with dinner and he wound up perched on the sofa seat closest to the television, a towel draped over his shoulder so that the furniture wouldn’t end up wet as well. He traced Baekhyun’s movement past the cabinet to get some things out from the fridge. Baekhyun’s senses tingle and he shot Chanyeol a look, lips pursed in an effort to get Chanyeol to stop staring, but Chanyeol mimicked a smile and shrugged, still watching him closely.

“You’ve been slacking off work, haven’t you?” Baekhyun had meant to tease, but his words held some weight because they were the truth, and he kind of wished he could take them back.

Chanyeol’s eyes dulled and for a moment that was quick to pass, Baekhyun thought he was going to blurt out something he didn’t mean as well. "It's alright," Chanyeol forced out, leaning back in his seat, fingers curled around his cup as he swallows a mouthful of hot coffee, letting it burn his tongue. "I have a press interview to attend tomorrow and for that, knowing I hate interviews, they gave me a day off."

Baekhyun frowns. He hasn't missed out on the dark circles around Chanyeol's eyes. "You should’ve stayed home, then. And rest."

"Nah," Chanyeol laughed, "I don't want to be all alone and lazing around. This is nice, too." Baekhyun shoots him a look. "No, really, this is nice. Being with you is nice.”

See, Baekhyun thought to himself, it’s nice.

From the sofa, Chanyeol’s smile was bright, so bright that it rivalled stars in the night sky. Or perhaps a commercial plane blinking past. Baekhyun wondered if this was all eternal or just temporary.

Their conversations were never the same. One time they could be talking about the weather, their jobs, and the next day, they could be talking about their childhood and their dreams. They was always something closed off about the way in which they speak, but neither pointed it out so all their secrets stayed hidden.

“You’re really good at acting,” Baekhyun started. He had said this before, once when he went to visit Chanyeol at the set, another time when Chanyeol won an award for his latest role in an action film. “Why did you become an actor?”

Chanyeol had his arms full of Baekhyun and he looked away when Baekhyun asked him this. He wasn’t avoiding the question, Baekhyun knew this, but he didn’t like it either. He was still smiling but there was something off about the look in his eyes, Baekhyun was starting to know it well, even if he didn't have a name for what it was.

“Acting is different.” came the answer. Baekhyun frowned ever so slightly because he was sure there was more to it. “I was good with a few things, I guess. I mean, I was good with music too. I was really good, apparently, but I wasn’t good enough. And even if I was, it still wouldn't have gotten me anywhere.”

“And acting?”

“I’m not just good at it,” Chanyeol replied, “People liked that I was good at it. Maybe I could’ve done more with all the things I was good with, but those things weren’t profitable. I was scouted because I had the looks and later on it turned out I had a flair with a few other things as well, but they wanted me to act. So I did. I acted and I acted and I got really good at it. I became a professional. I became an actor.”

“Was it a mistake?”

“What?”

Baekhyun didn’t look away. “Acting,” he said, “Was choosing it a mistake? Maybe you could’ve chosen something that wasn’t...profitable, but rather something you truly liked.”

“We all wish to live our lives without making any wrong turns, don’t we? But that’s impossible. There’s nothing like that. We get lost. We make mistakes. We are mistakes.” Chanyeol laughed as he finished his reply to Baekhyun.

“You really think that?”

Chanyeol looked up slowly, smile slipping away. Baekhyun wondered if the surprise in his eyes was real because, to be honest, Chanyeol was really that good of an actor - so skillful in his acting that more often than not, he left Baekhyun wondering what was real and what wasn’t.

“Yes.”

“Mistakes teach us something, don’t they?” Baekhyun muttered. “If we are indeed mistakes, then we are lessons as well. Maybe I’m your lesson as much as you are mine.”

There was panic in Chanyeol’s expression and Baekhyun didn’t understand it - of course he didn’t.

 

What followed were weeks of trouble and disruption. The panic Chanyeol had felt the last time they met had developed into something more. There was anticipation and anxiety and then disappointment, each one making the both them restless and sleepless. Baekhyun was cross when Chanyeol first called off their lunch date and his crossness grew and grew. Two days later, Chanyeol managed to keep Baekhyun waiting for three whole hours before he showed up at the cafe the day after. Baekhyun had been waiting outside the settlement when Chanyeol arrived, hair tousled and voice guilty.

“I’m sorry. My phone battery is - “

“Don’t lie,” Baekhyun said brusquely. He had seen it coming - he had read it in Chanyeol’s eyes. The growing realization coming to life in Chanyeol’s mind could only mean one thing. “I wasn't expecting you to arrive on time, anyway.” Chanyeol stopped walking towards him so Baekhyun gathered his courage and walked towards him. “Let’s take a walk, alright? It’s good to get some vitamin D.”

Baekhyun had in fact rehearsed angry outbursts in anticipation of Chanyeol’s arrival, but it all died in his mouth when he stopped walking and Chanyeol, having sensed it, turned around. He was just there, blocking most of the sun that was about to set, and Baekhyun lost the words he had meant to scream and shout. He wanted to make a scene, to let Chanyeol know that he should feel sorry one way or another, but instead all he did was to ask Chanyeol the one question that had lingered in his mind.

“What are we?”

Chanyeol looked up and Baekhyun could see the way he clammed up. It was like Chanyeol had slammed yet another door in his face. “What?”

Almost angrily, Baekhyun pointed at himself then at Chanyeol, “I mean, what are we? Are we friends? Lovers? Strangers?”

“Baekhyun - ”

“They’re right about you,” Baekhyun interrupted. “I shouldn’t have - ” He shook his head as if to clear it. He had been so foolish. “I shouldn’t have.”   

"Maybe we should stop seeing each other for a while." Chanyeol blinked back surprise when Baekhyun took the words right out of his mouth. "I'm afraid that I want this, us , more than you ever will, so...let's take a step back from this, okay?"

“Okay. Goodbye, then."

It was a beautiful day, too beautiful for a breakup to happen, but it happened anyway.

Baekhyun had anticipated Chanyeol's cruelty - no strings attached, but it hurt nonetheless when Chanyeol simply smiled and nodded, no hint of tremor in his voice as he took a step back, turned around, and walked away.

The sun disappeared into the horizon and so did Chanyeol. Alone, Baekhyun was left in the dark, fingers stretching out in an attempt to find a star he could call his own.


 

ii. supernova

 

 

Baekhyun could feel coldness settling over himself, one that had nothing to do with the wind or the evening. He had lived long enough to recognize it: sadness. It was so cold that his jaw ached. He went home, crawled into bed, and stayed awake for the whole night. He shook his head and tears start to flow. Even as he kept telling himself that he was stronger than all that the pain in his chest was worth, he couldn’t stop; like the sound of rain, Chanyeol - everything about Chanyeol - had struck a chord with him.

His mind was exhausted and it was what kept his eyes open. He could feel it in his bones - the uncertainty he felt and the certainty he coveted. It was funny, now that he was thinking about it, that he had landed himself in the very situation he swore he would avoid at all cost. Before all of this, he had already known just what people like Chanyeol meant for people like him. A test one was sure to fail wasn’t worth taking and thus, a relationship cursed to doom wasn’t worth seeking. Yet, it felt wrong for Chanyeol to be labelled as such, because the whole thing was Baekhyun’s fault as much as it was Chanyeol’s. Try as he might, however, Baekhyun couldn’t pinpoint what went wrong - what was st ill  wrong. When sunlight streamed in, bright as ever, he finally fell asleep, thinking that maybe and just maybe, nothing was wrong.

 

 

For the longest time, Baekhyun went about his life as per usual. He busied himself with the city and its landscapes, with the people and the stories their eyes wanted to tell, and it was all done, he realized, in an attempt to forget his own. Fear was the worst thing and most of the time, the pain one imagined was often worse than the actual pain itself.

At first he pitied himself, then he pitied himself too much. Something had to be done about it. He was moving away from the city, not physically but mentally, and he could barely concentrate on the assignments he was given. It was all an obscure collection of themes and bright flares and he felt like he was going blind.

It was somewhere in August that he stopped pitying himself. Kyungsoo helped, first by giving him a card with the words “TOLD YOU SO” printed in neon pink, then by setting Baekhyun up with a ridiculous amount of suitors, with none of whom actually suiting him. He stopped keeping track of the news and he even deleted Chanyeol’s number, but he kept seeing Chanyeol’s names wherever he went and as for the number, his head couldn’t forget something his heart remembered.

“You’re still pining,” Kyungsoo’s voice sighed and it was almost as if he was in the room with Baekhyun. Baekhyun could picture his look of disapproval and that, strange enough, made him smile. He shook his head even though Kyungsoo couldn’t see him.

“I’m not,” he muttered, looking away from his computer screen to take a break with Kyungsoo, who was currently freezing his balls off in Antarctica, saving penguins or doing something equally compassionate. There was a shout in the background and it sounded very much like Jongdae’s voice - he was screeching a song and Kyungsoo very helpfully told Baekhyun that Jongdae was trying to get a reaction out of the injured penguin the medical team had just brought in. Baekhyun questioned Jongdae’s sanity, as he always did, before giving up trying to rationalize the horrible sounds Jongdae kept making (until Kyungsoo shouted at him to shut up because “ I'm on the phone with Baekhyun, you inconsiderate dumbass!” ). Baekhyun couldn’t fathom how Kyungsoo had managed to convince Jongdae to take a break from work and go globe-trotting with him on his lifelong quest to rescue endangered animals. Also, he couldn’t figure out how they were, perhaps for the sake of some grand prank they were trying to pull, officially a couple.

“You are .”

“I’m over him,” Baekhyun argued. “In fact, I wasn’t into him in the first place. He's out of my league and I know that.”

There was a shout from the other end of the line and knowing Jongdae, Baekhyun decided against asking if everything was fine. Kyungsoo returned to the call after a good minute or so, panting and sounding all the more exasperated, “Listen to yourself, will you? Record yourself telling me that you’re fine, that you’re perfectly alright without him, and that you’re going to find someone with whom you truly belong. Listen to yourself and if you can prove me wrong, I promise not to send you another card.”

“I hope a penguin eats you.”

Kyungsoo laughed, “I think they love me too much to eat me. Sorry.”

“That’s true,” Baekhyun thought about it for a moment, “They probably think you’re one of them. Well then, I hope a penguin eats your boyfriend.”

“You know what? I actually don't mind if that happens.”

In the background, Jongdae started screeching another song.

It was the greatest display of fireworks Baekhyun had ever seen. Streaks of red and yellow and gold color the night sky, turning it into something else entirely. It marked the exact point that was both the finale and the entrée. Eyes bright, Baekhyun’s thoughts were fixed on the fact that the initial sparks shooting into the sky had died to create a sight so spectacular. Deaths bringing lives, ends bringing beginnings, separations bringing happily-ever-after s. It was altogether one big paradox.

“Pretty, right?”  

Baekhyun turned around and Chanyeol was right behind him, drinks in both hands, smiling that smile Baekhyun knew to be worth nothing short of a good hundred thousand dollars. It iwass a smile that looked good on advertisements but not so much on the photographs Baekhyun developed in his own studio back home.

“Pretty,” he acquiesced. He inspected Chanyeol’s face - too big eyes and too long eyelashes and too bright everything. “But too loud,” he continued, accepting the glass Chanyeol was offering. “I don’t really like loud things. Too much of a hoo-ha. They leave so big of an impact and you’re forced to remember.”

Chanyeol was quiet for a while, then he laughed and his laugh was just as Baekhyun remembered. Baekhyun discovered that he didn't like Chanyeol’s laughter too. He supposed if he was to say that aloud, he would most likely be stoned by the actor’s devoted fans. Not the best way to die, he supposed.

“You are harboring too complicated thoughts for a new year party, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol drawled, leaning against the banister and taking a sip from his own glass. It was a good decision to come find Baekhyun, so it seemed, because the other would be sure to make his night interesting, or at the very least, enjoyable.

“Too complicated for you?”

"Yes," Chanyeol replied. Just like you.

"Why are you out here?"

“I saw you coming up here,” Chanyeol said, “And I don’t really know why I followed.”

Baekhyun laughed dryly, “You never quite know anything about yourself, do you?”

“Well, do you?”

Chanyeol was staring Baekhyun expectantly and Baekhyun watched him carefully as he shook his head. He took note of the way Chanyeol looked away, almost disappointed. “I don’t think anyone does.”

He had the feeling that Chanyeol wanted to talk about something else and as much as he dreaded it, he wanted it out and over with. “You want to tell me something?” he ventured.

The wind played with Chanyeol’s hair and he nodded. Baekhyun tried not to get distracted the softness of Chanyeol’s curls and how he looked with chestnut brown hair framing his soft features. He looked like he could do no wrong, but Baekhyun knew better.

“Are you able to give up everything for someone?” Chanyeol asked. It was an odd question, one that Baekhyun had, in actual fact, considered.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Chanyeol sighed heavily, “Is there anything. Or anyone. I don’t know? I - ”

Baekhyun’s limbs felt stiff as he pushed away from the side of the balcony. It was cold out and it bothered him because at the back of his mind, he blamed Chanyeol for showing him what warmth felt like. He smiled, and, as Chanyeol watched his smile break across his face, Chanyeol wouldn’t look away.  

“There may be,” Baekhyun finally replied, trying to sound as calm and cool as he wished he was feeling. Before Chanyeol happened, it took a lot to bother him. “I don’t think it’s your business to know, however.”

They were strangers, they should be strangers, and strangers shouldn’t know anything about each other. Strangers weren’t meant to care about each other.

“But I want to know.” Chanyeol sounded petulant, a child once more. The slick confidence he wore on his sleeves earlier at the press conference was gone, replaced by an ill apprehension that he directed towards Baekhyun. There was power embedded in the way Baekhyun seemed to be able to unsettle Chanyeol so.

“I don’t,” Baekhyun snaps, “I don’t want you to know anything.” He was letting everything out and a nagging voice told him he was most probably going to regret saying all that he was about to say. Unbothered, he went on. “Who do you think are?”

The disappointment Baekhyun had expected to feel when Chanyeol remained silent didn’t come and he took it as his cue to continue. “You’re such an asshole,” he said furiously. At this point he wasn’t sure who or what he was angry at. He was just angry, scared, and desperate for something he should have stopped longing for. “You’re so, so cruel,” he persisted, “What right do you have?”

“Baek - ”

“Don’t.” There it was, the parting of the sea yet again. “Just don’t.”

Before Chanyeol could say anything else, Baekhyun had left.

There were some things, and people, he kept running towards even as he ran away. It couldn’t be explained using science or kinetic theories or something just as complicated, it was what it was: inexplicable.

“It’s me.”

Baekhyun blinked in surprise, steadied the magazines he was moving from his work table to the shelves while trying to balance his phone between his shoulder and his ear. “ You . Why are you calling?” Each time he thought that they were over, Chanyeol would be back to peel at his old wounds, digging in so that he would leave a deeper mark. Each time, Baekhyun let him.

Even over the phone Baekhyun could hear that there was something strange about Chanyeol’s voice, it was rougher and deeper, like it had been soaked in desperation for days. “I need you.”

“What?”

“I need you to help me with something.”

With a frown, Baekhyun tried to disguise the disappointment in his reply. “With what? What can I possibly help you with?” He told himself that he didn’t sound the least bit bitter.

“I’m out of aspirin.”

“You’re out of what?”

“Aspirin. I need it.”

“So?”

“Well,” Chanyeol sounds defeated, “I need your help getting some? You’ve seen the news, haven’t you? I can’t exactly just hop down to the nearest supermarket and get them myself.” After a pause in which Baekhyun’s brain tries to work out just why Chanyeol can’t do that, the other continues, “The press. They’re all ready to get some quick shots of my unshaved, beaten up face. I can’t let them fuck me up any further, can I?”

“What happened?”

“It’s easier to explain when you come over.”

Baekhyun had seen the news. He had tried ignoring them but they were everywhere: pictures of Chanyeol going to places, skiving off on his responsibilities, contracts on the brink of termination and so on. It was getting worse and worse.

“Alright, I’ll be there in a few.”

A few meant that Baekhyun would arrive thirty minutes. He had dropped by the pharmacy and, not knowing which brand of painkillers Chanyeol was used to, bought several bottles. Chanyeol was quick to answer the door when Baekhyun knocked.

“You look better - ”

Before Baekhyun could finish his sentence, Chanyeol had him pinned against the door and he was kissing Baekhyun. Hard. He was kissing Baekhyun liked a man starved of oxygen and Baekhyun was pushing, pushing, then pulling. He sighed as the remembrance of their first kiss - Chanyeol’s taste - filled him, and Chanyeol, sensing his surrender, closed the distance between them by enfolding Baekhyun in a hug with his too long arms. Baekhyun felt small in Chanyeol’s arms but the way Chanyeol looked at him made him felt like he was bigger than life.

“Wait - ” Baekhyun remembered the reason of worry - the constant pinprick of distress that he couldn’t chase down with sleeping pills and water - and it was what made him pull away. He was always pulling away and again, this time, Chanyeol didn’t try to pull him back.

“What are you doing?” Baekhyun didn’t care that he sounded hysterical. It took a great deal of effort to get the words out, so much that he hardly knew if he was saying them right or getting them in order. “What are we doing?”

Stretched thin, Chanyeol couldn’t find the strength to speak up. He looked like he wanted to. And so, having landed himself in a state of anticipation and fear, Baekhyun did the one thing both he did best: he ran. He pushed Chanyeol away, the other stumbling back, and he remembered the bottle of aspirin he had bought but didn’t pause to point it out to Chanyeol. In a heartbeat, he was out of the door and going down the stairs instead of taking the lift. He expected Chanyeol to follow, but yet again Chanyeol disappointed him. Chanyeol stayed where he was, staring at the door frame as though a part of Baekhyun had stuck there.

Finally, he looked down and sighed.

 

“And?”

“And then I left, what else was I supposed to do?”

Somewhere in France or Germany or somewhere in between, Kyungsoo sighed into his phone.

“You know I hate being honest with you, but you’re such a daft little fellow, aren’t you?” Kyungsoo spoke. Baekhyun could hear Jongdae chortling away at what Kyungsoo had said and he wished he could be right next to them, wrap his fingers around Jongdae’s neck and smother his more obnoxious friend to death.

“I am?” He struggled to make sense of Kyungsoo’s wisdom, wishing he could cut a slice from the seemingly endless provision of sagacity Kyungsoo had for him and eat it for the purpose of learning and absorption. He didn’t think it would make him feel any better about his relationship - whatever relationship could mean - with Chanyeol, but it was worth a shot. “Am I doing this wrong?”

“Of course you are,” Kyungsoo breathed like he was trying not to shout (at his boyfriend or at his best friend, Baekhyun couldn’t tell). “He called you, then?”

“Yeah.” Chanyeol had called him earlier, apologizing for everything - for the kiss, for the confusion, for crossing the line Baekhyun had drawn for the two of them when he said they should stop seeing each other. Then, he had asked to meet Baekhyun again. Baekhyun had ended the call before Chanyeol could ask for an answer, mostly out of sheer panic and also because he didn’t know what he was going to do.

“Then go,” Kyungsoo said. “I know I told you to be careful,” he sounded pensive, “But maybe, just maybe, that's what has been holding back.”

 

“I bought you a cream pie.” Chanyeol held up the box and Baekhyun shook his head. Chanyeol smelled of too-strong perfume and cheap wine and Baekhyun didn’t want to know where he had been.

“I don’t like cream pie,” he bit out his reply.

Chanyeol tore his attention from Baekhyun’s luggage and glanced at him, “It’s for us. For supper.”

“What are you trying to achieve?” Baekhyun felt like laughing but he swallowed hard and opted to say, “I’m fine.”

Chanyeol looked at him as if he couldn’t look away, “You’re pale. You’re not.”

“You’re drunk and I can see that,” Baekhyun didn’t want to sound this defeated. “I’m all right. You’re not.”

There was a roguish look in Chanyeol’s eyes and Baekhyun could care less to interpret what it meant. He didn’t know who Chanyeol was, not right then, not like that.

A moment passed before he softly added, “You should go.”

Without warning, Chanyeol started laughing; he laughed and laughed like a dying man would laugh while lying on his death bed; he rocked back and forth, unable to find a balance and tip himself back on the scale which was falling apart as he laughed. Tears and flushed cheeks were all Baekhyun could see as Chanyeol's laugh filled the room, so loud that it filled Baekhyun's ears too. Time ticked past and it began to fill Baekhyun to the brim, borrowing and searching until it seared and branded a part of him he never knew existed. It hurt. It hurt a lot and Chanyeol was still laughing as though their life, at that instant, was a joke nothing else can rival.

In the midst of Chanyeol's hysterics, fear latched onto Baekhyun and refuses to let go. The fear, however, turned into anger because he found himself thoroughly sick and tired of this. He wanted it to be something more and yet, at the same time, he wasn’t sure if Chanyeol was ready to reciprocate. “I’m not another one of your games, Park Chanyeol,” he seethed, “It’s either a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ and never a ‘maybe’.”

Chanyeol stopped laughing, going quiet for a while, then he said, “I know.”

“You know? You really think you do? Once bitten, twice shy, Baekhyun wasn’t ready to buy Chanyeol’s words so quickly this time round. “Pray tell, then, what do you know?”

There was no answer.

As Baekhyun passed him, Chanyeol reached for his hand and missed it. Chanyeol put more of his body into the next attempt and he managed to catch Baekhyun’s wrist, but Baekhyun yanked it away immediately and they stayed there, just centimeters apart. It looked like Chanyeol was about to say something, to reply, to ask Baekhyun to stay. But after a moment he took a step back and Baekhyun, yet again, walked out of the room.

Chanyeol left his apartment twenty minutes later.

There was still no answer.

 

 

Having spent two months away from the city, Baekhyun thought he was ready. Thoroughly and most definitely ready.

He had waited patiently for the pang to settle inside him as he boarded the first train, looking it out as it whizzed alongside hues of green and blue and white - the trees and the sky and his own desire to escape all traces of urbanization. He wasn’t just tired of guessing what was on Chanyeol’s life and guessing what the two of them would end up as, he was also tired of running from Chanyeol every time just because he was as unsure as Chanyeol was about the two of them. More than once, he had grasped the idea that Chanyeol wasn’t treating him like he was just another challenge, another target that, once reached, would be abandoned. Each time, however, he let go of the idea, shutting the door shut just so Chanyeol wouldn’t get the chance to slam it in his face.

He couldn’t deal with it. He wasn’t strong enough, not then, and he was tired of pretending that he was. He could only escape for so long and he knew that, but it didn’t stop him from running away nonetheless.

Alighting the train and getting out of the station, Baekhyun was relieved to see that the outskirts of town was just as he remembered it to be. In the city, everything changed everyday; here, everything stretched on and on for miles, he had many paths to take and many places to escape to. He drew in a deep breath and smiled, setting his bag down just so that he could reach out and collect a small puddle of liquid gold with his hands; the sun on his shoulders calmed him. 

Down the road that would lead him to the holiday resort that only he, Kyungsoo and Jongdae knew about - they had their little getaway after high school graduation, having been so eager to leave behind the unpleasant but necessary process of growing up. He stopped, past the first road sign for drivers to know where they were heading towards, just to breathe slowly, properly. He had always liked the strong smell of the plants in the sun and in the moment, it gave him a good reason to be here and not anywhere else, to do nothing but this.

Trips like this were precious because they gave him a reason to shut everything out - the place in which he stood needed more time than he could give it, but that was precisely why he loved it.

Concentrating hard on that thought, Baekhyun blinked slowly in the sunlight, trying not to think about how much he wanted Chanyeol to feel this with him, for the sun's warmth served as a reminder of Chanyeol’s touch.

For the past few days, Baekhyun focused on getting some decent shots of the countryside, setting his feelings aside all for the sake of enjoying some alone-time, even if it wasn’t really helping ease the ache blossoming in his chest, very much in the same way the yellow tulips and white lilacs he was holding in his hands had. It was a little past the season for flowers, but he picked them nonetheless.

The morning, for him, had passed quietly, with the sweet savors of Autumn rising.

Is that - ? 

There was the stir of something like recognition and it lingered, clinging to him, and he had no choice but to acknowledge it. It was his stride, the tilt of his head, that made Chanyeol so easy to spot. It was infuriating for Baekhyun to discover that no matter where Chanyeol went, he belonged.

It felt as if he had been spending the past few weeks preparing himself to know Chanyeol when he saw him, and here he was, the reason why Baekhyun was tense and wary, reminding Baekhyun that there were some things, some people, he couldn’t run away from.

Coming face to face with a mop of newly dyed black hair and a smile that truly touched the corners of Chanyeol’s eyes, lighting him up, Baekhyun didn’t know what to do with his hands nor the flowers he was holding onto. “You’re here,” he said lamely. He wanted to say more, but he hesitated.

“I asked around.” Chanyeol said this with a fresh smile and Baekhyun’s eyes were drawn to it. Everything around them was still a little blurry and Chanyeol, for all that he was worth, stood out. Baekhyun need not a camera, just his eyes, to capture the littlest details - the way his cheeks were of the lightest shade of pink when he stood too long under the sun, the way he looked now that his hair - still as long - was back to black, and the way he looked at Baekhyun like Baekhyun was the only thing he could see.

“Who told you?”

“A penguin.” Chanyeol glanced at Baekhyun, mirroring his look of wariness and seasoning it with mild embarrassment, as if they were sharing too close quarters even though they were standing in the middle of the road and it was broad daylight.

Cursing under his breath, Baekhyun swore to severe all ties with all his friends, Kyungsoo especially. Then, he remembered the importance - the significance - of Chanyeol’s appearance and he was overcome with exasperation. He still didn’t know what to expect, so with much difficulty he asked, “Why are you here?”

“To find you.”

Chanyeol was still smiling at him.

“Well, you’ve found me. Now what?”

It took a long time for Chanyeol to reply. The light was casting deep shadows in Chanyeol’s face and when Baekhyun took a step forward, he saw that Chanyeol looked just as tired as he felt, if not also a little hopeful.

“Now I get to keep you,” said Chanyeol softly. Baekhyun had to lean in to make sure that he was hearing Chanyeol correctly. “And you get to keep me too.”

There was, Baekhyun realized, sincerity in his voice, and this time, he didn’t question if it was real or not. Instead, he asked, “Do you know what that means for the both of us?”

“I know enough,” said Chanyeol with faint amusement. Baekhyun couldn’t deny that he liked the smile Chanyeol had reserved just for him - he liked its warmth; it felt familiar.


 

iii. black hole

 

There was a time for the telling of things - things like love and happy endings and everything that came in between. In other words, there was a natural order to be maintained. Some called it Fate, some called it Destiny, for such an order had many names. Some doors were not meant to be opened before their time and it couldn’t be rushed. To rush and to force such things would be ill-advised. Admittedly, maybe they should have let things took their course.

However, Baekhyun didn’t regret it. He held Chanyeol’s hand in his and breathed in the velvety scent of Chanyeol’s after-shave. It filled his mind with a warm, caressing breeze, and Chanyeol’s with a comforting, companionable darkness. If Baekhyun was to be the light of Chanyeol’s life, Chanyeol would be the darkness pulling him in. This time, Baekhyun wasn’t running away; he couldn’t even if he tried.

 

Night fell and Baekhyun was still as he lied next to Chanyeol, listening to the beating of Chanyeol’s heart and the beating of his own. His heart skipped in sync with Chanyeol’s, harmonizing with the way Chanyeol’s race. It didn’t take long for it to happen, but when it did, a powerful knowledge took hold. It came to Baekhyun liked it was a lost memory that was suddenly returning. They were quiet. After months of silence came more silence - a different silence, the kind Baekhyun loved. There were other things he must learn - things lost centuries ago but couldn’t quite be retrieved - and they were coming to him slowly and surely, becoming less dreamlike. As the silence wore on, these things grew more and more concrete, within reach.

For no reason, Baekhyun laughed, momentarily interrupting the silence in which they rested. He felt as light as a finger, light enough to be blown away and to go flying across the sky in the grip of the wind, but Chanyeol was the weight in his chest holding him down.  Chanyeol , he whispered the name in his head and went back to the present, eyes going to to watching Chanyeol.

Chanyeol was tracing the outline of the hand Baekhyun pressed against his stomach and occasionally, his finger brushed against Baekhyun's hand when he deliberately skidded off course. Baekhyun's smile grew whenever that happened and that encouraged Chanyeol to do that a few more times. There was something about the quietness that made the moment all the more intimate. It was nice.

 

Baekhyun remembered being told that if it’s important, it’ll come back.  For as long as he could recall, the world was a constant, love was the hypothesis. Somewhere along the way, Chanyeol had ended up as Baekhyun's proven theory. 

 

Notes:

this was written for kei17 (exo for sichuan) back in 2013! i'm slowly editing my completed exo fics and then posting them here ~

thanks for reading nonetheless! c: