He presses one last kiss on the woman’s lips as she stirs in her sleep, craving for warm comfort. Chanyeol puts on his pants, not bothering to search for his shirt as he drags his feet out of the guestroom, feeling worn out. Glancing at the wall clock, Chanyeol notices that it’s already half past three in the morning.

His husband must have returned hours ago, when Chanyeol was busy with Jinah in the guestroom. He bites his lips. Although feeling a bit anxious, he assures himself that Baekhyun wouldn’t know. Baekhyun must have been sleeping, or else, he would’ve searched for Chanyeol, knowing how dependent his husband is.

The moment Chanyeol enters the pitch-dark master bedroom; he tries to swallow the lump in his throat when he notices that the king-sized bed is empty. Bed sheets and pillows arranged neatly, as if the bed is untouched. Although he’s still in a sleepy, exhausted state, Chanyeol begins to sweat.

Where on earth is his husband? He knows that Baekhyun went out to see Yifan, for some reasons he wouldn’t tell, but Chanyeol had expected him to be home at least an hour after he went out.

“Baekhyun…?” Chanyeol whispers, turning on the lights. Soft whimpers erupt from his left, and Chanyeol staggers back when he sees his husband sitting on the ground, face in his hands. “Baekhyun!”

His husband startles at this, jolting awake when he hears Chanyeol calling his name. Baekhyun whimpers once more, hands roaming around the floor. “Chanyeol?”

“Hey,” Chanyeol softly says, kneeling on the ground. “Why were you on the floor? Your eyes are so swollen... Did something happen?”

“Nothing,” his husband murmurs. “I fell asleep, I guess... What time is it?”

“It’s like three in the morning. Why aren’t you sleeping on the bed?” Chanyeol asks, sighing as he carries his husband easily, walking over to their shared bed. “Your back must’ve hurt, no?”

Baekhyun shakes his head against Chanyeol’s chest, clutching onto his arms. “…Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”

He swears he could hear the bitterness in Baekhyun’s voice when he asked him that question, but Chanyeol supposes it’s all in his imagination. He nervously laughs. “It was kind of hot, so I just took it off. Nothing you’ve never felt before, though.”

He feels Baekhyun laughing softly against his skin, his arms snaking up to wrap them around Chanyeol’s neck. “Chanyeol…?”

“Yeah?” Chanyeol stares at the small birthmark above his husband’s lips. He remembers how he liked to place a kiss on it every morning, earning a bright laughter from his husband. “What is it, baby?”

“Can you… Can you carry me just a bit longer?” Baekhyun asks, gnawing on his bottom lip. He raises his head from Chanyeol’s chest, facing his husband, although his eyes are focusing somewhere between Chanyeol’s jaw and his shoulder. “Please?”

Chanyeol freezes before he sighs, droplets of intense guilt dripping onto him, soaking him. He wants nothing but to put his husband to bed and sleep, but the look on Baekhyun’s face makes him hesitate. “I’m really tired, though. Just for a while, okay?”

Baekhyun nods, smiling a little in relief. “Okay.”

Chanyeol unconsciously smiles back, tightening his hold on his husband as he heads to the balcony. “Help me open the window, please,” he says playfully.

His husband struggles at first, pouting when his hand tries to reach out for the knob, but only roam on flat surfaces of the French windows. Chanyeol stifles a laugh at this, pressing a kiss on his husband’s cheek in adoration. He doesn’t realize the way Baekhyun stiffens. When his husband finally grabs onto the knob, Chanyeol brings him to the balcony, shivering when cold air hits their skin.

“Aren’t you cold?” Chanyeol asks, arms feeling a little numb from carrying his husband. “Your shirt isn’t that thick.”

“Not really,” Baekhyun mumbles, before he laughs. “You’re the one who’s not wearing a shirt.”

“No , Sherlock,” Chanyeol chuckles. “I’m freezing. Let’s go back inside.”

“Just a moment,” his husband stops him with a hand on his collarbone. “Just a few minutes. Let’s just stay like this for a few minutes.”

He gazes at his husband worriedly. “Did something happen today, Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun keeps quiet for a while, resting his head on Chanyeol’s shoulder as he basks in the ambience of the 4 A.M. breeze. “I’m going to have my piano class tomorrow. Yifan didn’t tell me who the teacher is, but he told me that it’s a college student.”

Chanyeol snorts. “Really? He could only afford to hire you a teacher who’s a college student?”

“Well, he might be a great pianist.” Baekhyun says. “He has experience on teaching blind people too, so that’s an advantage…”

Sighing, Chanyeol walks back into their room, gently placing Baekhyun on the bed despite his husband’s protests. Baekhyun thrashes against the bed, kicking the bed sheets away before Chanyeol hovers on top of him, slamming both his hands on the bed as he stares at him, making his husband flinch.

“I have work tomorrow, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol huffs, sudden annoyance creeping up to him. “Please, let me go to sleep, hm?”

“…Okay,” Baekhyun whispers, “Sorry.”

“You missed me that much, huh?” He chuckles, letting go of his husband’s hands to trace his fingers on his husband’s face. “I’ll carry you again some time, okay? But for now, we have to get some sleep.”

Baekhyun nods obediently, snuggling up to his husband for comfort as Chanyeol wraps an arm around his waist. “Goodnight, Baekhyun.”

“I’ll let you go, Chanyeol…” Baekhyun whispers softly. Too soft. If it isn’t for the silent atmosphere, Chanyeol wouldn’t have heard what his small husband just said. “…I’ll let you go if you want to go.”

Chanyeol’s heart skips, sudden wave of guilt threatening to drown him.

“I love you, Chanyeol…” Baekhyun sleepily murmurs. “I love you so much that I won’t force you to stay. Just tell me that you don’t want to stay and I’ll… I’ll leave.”

—

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