Now I'm feeling all this dope
Spinning out I'm drinking through this cup
Tripping out I'm sipping on the cup
Something I don't think I'm one

— Glass Animals : Lose Control

When Chanyeol opened his eyes again, he woke up to a ball of fluff stuffed in his mouth—no, not fluff… hair…?

He immediately blew it off harshly and scooted closer to the wall, having discovered that he had somehow snuggled up with the shorter male overnight. Though Baekhyun didn’t even seem to be bothered by it; he was splayed all over the bed with his arms out, and one leg sticking out at the side half-covered with thick blankets, his eyes shut closed and his lips slightly parted, blowing out soft breaths.

Baekhyun’s sweater was lifted up halfway across his chest, probably during shuffling in his sleep. Chanyeol wasn’t really the type to stare at someone if they had even one square inch of skin in view that is not their face, but Chanyeol couldn’t really help doing so.

Baekhyun seemed to be more of a boy than a man: he barely had any build at all. But that wasn’t the problem—his pale stomach was covered in scars.

“Had a good look of me yet, golden boy?” a drowsy voice floated through Chanyeol’s ears and the taller man let out a terrified shriek and shot up. Chanyeol covered his face ashamedly.

“S-Sorry! I wasn’t trying to—well—“
“It’s fine.”

Baekhyun was looking at him with one sleepy eye, the brown orb peeking curiously through its eyelid at Chanyeol’s hazy figure. Then he got up and yawned, rubbing his eyes childishly with his knuckles, his loose sweater sleeve retracting back to his arms. Chanyeol could then clearly see it: a fresh, red mark marring his skin just opposite his elbow. But he didn’t say anything and just watched Baekhyun lazily standing up, and then he groaned softly.

“Ugh, I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.” He raked a hand through his hair. He really did indeed—his hair was stuck up in so many ways and he had little colour on his skin, and there were slightly dark circles under his eyes. He fetched a bucket of rainwater for Chanyeol to drink and a bag of plain bread slices for breakfast, which Baekhyun just poked through and shoved into his mouth.

“You’re funny.” Baekhyun said as he wolfed down his fourth bread slice, eyeing Chanyeol with his hawk gaze. Chanyeol stripped a piece of his bread and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Pardon?”
“You’re funny.”
“Oh—well, how so?”

“Most people take things for granted.” The smaller male said as he chewed thoughtfully. “And here you are, eating only plain bread for breakfast, no jam, no toasting it, no anything—and no single complaint from you. Not saying you’re rather silent, of course—“ he gulped down his bread “—but you’re… well, just funny, to me.”

Chanyeol shrugged politely. “You’ve been kind enough to take me under your wing—what’s there to complain about?”

“Hmmm.” Baekhyun raised both of his eyebrows and shrugged, balling a bread slice in his fist and shoving it into his mouth, mumbling a thick “Jfust phut it undhfer fthe bed…” before he sauntered off to his pile of clothes, frowning.

“Not sure if I got your size, really. You’re like… a giant or something.”
“I’m fine in these, really…” Chanyeol flapped his shirt sleeves that he currently wore. Baekhyun gave a mellow scowl like a cat.

“What are you not fine with, honestly?”
“Aish! Baekhyun, I’m perfectly fine—“
“’Yeollie.”

Baekhyun flicked his forehead. He kicked a few syringes away and sat down on the cold tiled floor, shoving in his feet into his holed red sneakers. He threw Chanyeol’s coat to the taller man and he brushed off his sweater from the bread crumbs.

“We’re going out.”
“Out where?”
“The swimming pool—not for a swim of course.”

Baekhyun, in Chanyeol’s entire honesty, was a fairly funny person—he winked without smirking, he smiled without grinning, he laughed with no smile at all, he shouted with a soft voice. Though at Baekhyun’s statement, the invisible crust of dirt on Chanyeol’s face and his bladder seemed to just follow his command, and he pulled on his coat and shoved his legs in his boots, following the smaller male outside—who put three buckets on the outgrown garden.

“Looks like it might rain today.” Baekhyun shrugged, pocketing his skinny hand deep in his sweater pockets, nudging Chanyeol to follow him.

It was a rather weird change—from a proper household to a life that depended on whatever’s just there. But it felt like Chanyeol had always been living with Baekhyun in this fashion of lifestyle—just depending on everything to work in a linear, canon order. Though it was rather worrying, as Baekhyun seemed to be a pretty carefree boy—too carefree—Chanyeol felt a sense of freedom in his chest that he never had back at home.

“You rotten, good-for-nothing son. You see that dead rat there? Why, there’s no doubt that dead little creature there worth far vastly superior to your stupid little life—you deserve every single bruise and scratch on your body, boy, you hear? Utterly useless, I wonder why I’m still keeping you alive…”

“Ground control to Major Park.” Baekhyun hollered at his ear quite suddenly, and Chanyeol jumped fifty miles from his skin. Chanyeol rubbed his ear and looked down at the rather patient Baekhyun—though he had his arms crossed. Baekhyun just blinked and raised an eyebrow. Chanyeol cleared his throat embarrassedly.

“Sorry, I—“
“—Got lost in my thoughts that’s probably muddled with the bad days. It’s okay.” Baekhyun finished his sentence for him, and his brown eyes blinked in a sympathetic gaze, as if he understood. Chanyeol wiped the tears that has subconsciously gathered in his eyes.

“Don’t worry, golden boy. It’s going to be fine.” The monotonous voice spoke softly, and—somehow, Chanyeol believed it too. Chanyeol nodded and took account of the building that they now stood in front of—it smelled vaguely of chlorine, and there no prizes for guessing where they are currently. It wasn’t a very far walk—Baekhyun’s house was just at the opposite end of the road, but that meant that Chanyeol had walked absent-mindedly in a straight line whilst he was muddled up in his thoughts.

“Ahh—Baekhyun, I’m not… too sure about this.” Chanyeol said, suddenly nervous. “I mean—well, I never done… you know, bad things—“

“It’s just borrowing two shower stalls and a cubicle, soldier boy,” Baekhyun blinked and flicked his forehead—something that he came to like to do. “C’mon, let’s go.”
“But Baekhyun--!”
“Chan. Yeol.”

Baekhyun just grabbed a slightly shrieking Chanyeol by his jacket sleeve, pushing him inside the double-doors. Baekhyun pinched Chanyeol on his hand to shut him up and passed by the rather sceptical-looking receptionist, whom Baekhyun approached calmly.

“Yo, what’s up—“ Chanyeol saw Baekhyun’s hawk eyes flash over his nametag “—Daesung. You on shift today?”

“Well—yes.” The white-haired man said with a smile, but his eyes squinted at the unfamiliar figure of Baekhyun. “Whatever do you need?”

“Just two lockers—sorry, forgot my membership card. I also have a friend along with me today.” Baekhyun said without missing a beat. Daesung looked all over him with a suspicious glance.

“You can’t pass without your card, I’m afraid. I don’t really see any bags here, let alone even the intent of going swimming at all…” the receptionist scratched his head—he had hit a sore point, and Chanyeol was positively going pale in the face, mouth agape, looking at Baekhyun for instructions. Though the shorter male didn’t even flinch.

“We’re regular swimmers! We come here every week like this, damn—we’ve got ‘um swimming trunks underneath—saves us bringing heavy bags. Look, here, I’ll show you if you don’t believe me—“

At this point, Baekhyun looped two thumbs underneath his terribly short lower garments in the seeming intent of taking them off, and the receptionist raised two hand up rather quickly and snuffed, red in the face.

“Alright—right, fine! I believe you, my sincerest apology for doubting you.” He said rather hotly, and ducked under the desk with a sound of jangling, Baekhyun’s face still rather blank. The Daesung man popped up a few seconds later with two keys and bowed them both a good time, his cheeks still rather flaring red. Chanyeol, trying hard to hide his shock and amazement, followed the casual Baekhyun through another set of double-doors, leading to the men’s changing rooms and stalls. It was a rather early morning and the changing room was empty—and Chanyeol couldn’t help but burst out into a rather large exhale, and he sounded like a suddenly deflated balloon.

“H-How—“ Chanyeol gasped. “Did you even do that?!”
“Easily.” Baekhyun replied offhandedly.
“B-But—“ the taller man still stared at him, truly impressed. “Y-You just—walked in—and, just—how—“

Baekhyun’s eyes twinkled brightly and he gave a wink, before opening a locker door, starting to shed off his jumper and his shorts, leaving him stark pale in his boxers, kicking open a shower stall.

“Baekhyun.”
“Yes?”
“You—you didn’t really have any swimming trunks at all, do you?”

There was a mellow, pleasant laugh.

“Nope.”

Then there was a sound of water running. Chanyeol, giving up, shed his clothes too and shoved them in the locker door, deciding to relieve his bladder first before going into the showers. Though—

“Baek? Baekhyun?”
“…I’m still alive.”
“How do you—uh, dry yourself off?”
“You don’t.”
“Huh?!”
“You just wait for yourself to dry—or you flap around, if you’re in a hurry.”

Baekhyun opted to stay for at least half an hour so it really seems like they’ve actually swam, before they went and changed back into their clothes again. Baekhyun was right: the shampoos and the soaps were rather nice—it felt like Chanyeol went into a spa instead.

Both exited the building, Baekhyun wishing the receptionist a pleasant and casual goodbye as they went (though Daesung quickly averted his eyes). They crossed the streets that started to become busy in the bustle of the morning, Chanyeol feeling rather refreshed.

“Now, what’re we going to do today?” Baekhyun yawned, one hand on his hip. He clicked his fingers. “Oh, yeah. We’re getting some clothes for you, Chanyeol. Whatever you like.”

“Huh? But—but I haven’t got any money—“
“Neither have I, idiot.” Baekhyun lazily flicked his forehead. “C’mon, you look like a damn farmer in those clothing—and your boots are outright disgusting.” He crinkled his nose.<