Most of the time, the only way that Chanyeol can capture Kyungsoo’s attention is by being completely obnoxious to the shorter boy. He imagines all the punches, slaps, and confetti thrown in his face by Kyungsoo as disguised hugs, pats, and soft whispers.

 

He’s addicted to those moments, he’ll do anything for them -- to have Kyungsoo’s round, wide eyes focus on him, to see a smirk bloom on Kyungsoo’s face, to know that Kyungsoo sees him, and maybe even in that moment likes him -- wants to be close to him. That millisecond of want is what feeds Chanyeol, what keeps his heart open to this boy that he cannot shake from around his neck like an albatross.

 

Chanyeol even locked Kyungsoo out of the house once knowing full well that would test his micro-level patience. That Kyungsoo might get so angry he’d yell. That he’d punch Chanyeol so hard once he was finally let in (because Chanyeol couldn’t actually leave him outside all night). Chanyeol had giggled to himself at the way Kyungsoo scratched his neck -- a sure sign that he was getting really annoyed. But Kyungsoo had still laughed, so Chanyeol thought that maybe he was amused by his antics after all. Chanyeol received many hugs, pats, and soft whispers in the form of Kyungsoo’s fist that night.

 

Chanyeol just hopes that Kyungsoo knows that he does all these ridiculous things because he loves him, not because he wants to see him upset, angry or annoyed. Chanyeol wishes he could show a better side of himself to Kyungsoo -- the side that wanted to talk about music and movies in whispers under hazy moonlight, so close they could feel other’s breath on their skin; the side that wanted to comfort Kyungsoo when he was anxious or worried, instead of laughing at him; to be someone Kyungsoo turned to for solace and support.

 

Overtime Chanyeol had learned to adapt to this strange, oscillating relationship with Kyungsoo. Lately he tried to remind himself to be grateful for what he could get, but it was really getting to a point where he thought he might be reaching his limit. He didn’t understand why Kyungsoo was hot and cold towards him -- mostly cold. He needed an answer before he went crazy.

 

******

 

Why? Kyungsoo wishes he could tell Chanyeol the reason he was compelled to ignore him. He’s surprised that the tall, Yoda-eared boy put up with his confusing ways. Kyungsoo knows that sometimes he’s just plain mean to Chanyeol. And he wishes he could tell him that he was sorry for that.

 

Other times, he caresses Chanyeol’s back, or smiles warmly into his eyes, or even gives him a tight hug (okay that was usually after he had just punched him). And those times felt really good -- when Kyungsoo let his affection for his longtime friend show. Especially when he could see how happy it made Chanyeol. His bright, easy grin told all.

 

Kyungsoo really did feel sorry. He wishes he could be a better friend, be nicer, make his true feelings known, but he can’t. The way he feels about Chanyeol scares him. It reminds him of the feelings he’d had before for someone. Kyungsoo was confused at times because he had felt these feelings while dating his high school girlfriend, but the fact that he felt this way toward a boy didn’t make the feelings less strong, less powerful.

 

The thing is, he had loved before and he lost that love… because he didn’t know how to control his own feelings. He’s not sure that he’s learned how to control them any better all these years later. His inability to fight the possessiveness he felt; the gloomy, stormy cloud of love he’d felt, had pushed her away. Since then Kyungsoo has been careful with his feelings. Measuring them out in regulated doses -- not too little and not too much...hopefully, just enough.

 

But now it was almost too much for Kyungsoo to bear. Chanyeol is so fervent -- whenever their gazes meet he feels Chanyeol’s eager hunger for his acknowledgment. A sensation like thorns pricks every inch of Kyungsoo’s body, from his toes to his ears, knowing he can’t give Chanyeol what he wants -- what he seemingly needs so much from Kyungsoo -- knowing that he doesn’t know how to give Chanyeol his attention without giving him his heart and soul, and all the darkness that swirls within him simmering just under the surface. He believes he’s protecting Chanyeol -- that’s the kindest thing he can do for his friend.

******

When the other members decided to go out on various errands and excursions, Chanyeol opts to stay home. He knows Kyungsoo is in his dim room watching movies or reading webcomics. No one had seen him since breakfast, but that was not uncommon. Schedule-less, Kyungsoo often holed himself up in his room for most of the day and into the evening... doing Kyungsoo things.

 

Chanyeol knocks on Kyungsoo’s bedroom door after an hour passes of them being the only humans in the house. Sehun’s dog Vivi should be wandering around somewhere, but Chanyeol hasn’t seen him since Sehun left, so he must be in Kyungsoo’s room.

 

The perfect excuse to knock on Kyungsoo’s door.

 

“Kyungsoo-yah is Vivi in there? I haven’t seen him. He should eat,” Chanyeol yells into the doorjamb.

 

Silence.

 

Then the rustle of slippered feet.

 

Kyungsoo unlocks, then opens the door, Vivi in his arms.

 

“Here you go,” he says flatly handing Vivi over to Chanyeol.

 

Chanyeol takes the fluffy load and manages to prevent Kyungsoo from closing his door again right away, by asking, “What are you doing? Are you hungry?”

 

Kyungsoo replies, “Nothing. No, I’m okay.” Then the door closes, the lock clicking into place.

 

Chanyeol hugs and kisses Vivi so feverishly that the pup scrambles out of his arms and runs away to hide himself in Sehun’s room, most likely on his giant doggie bed, safely away from the over-zealous boy who wasn’t his person.

 

Chanyeol sighs. No one wanted his affection, no one wanted to give him attention, not even a dog.

 

Kyungsoo had looked so delicate, so vulnerable: his round glasses set atop his nose, face slightly puffy, doughy and pink without makeup, lips just a touch dry and sticking together, rumpled black t-shirt over loose black shorts.

 

Chanyeol sighs again.

 

When Chanyeol knocks on Kyungsoo’s door an hour later, there’s no answer. Despite offering food again, an invitation to go play pool, and watching something together on TV through the shut door, there’s no reply from Kyungsoo.

 

Frustrated, Chanyeol has decided to stage one final demonstration. He doesn’t care if his desire for Kyungsoo’s attention is ten times more obvious because of it. He doesn’t believe in subtleties anymore. This cat-mouse charade has gone on too long.

 

It’s not fun for him anymore, it’s not cute. He doesn’t want to make anymore excuses for Kyungsoo: Maybe he doesn’t hear Chanyeol when he calls for him, maybe the silly boy forgets to speak aloud and answers Chanyeol’s questions in his own head, maybe blah blah blah.

 

So Chanyeol just lays down on the floor outside of Kyungsoo’s door. The little guy would have to come out and use the bathroom at some point. He’d get hungry eventually. He’d have to step over Chanyeol’s splayed body to ignore him. He couldn’t ignore him then -- this was to blatant. Too obvious. SEE ME.

 

******

 

When it seems that Chanyeol has finally given up on trying to interact with him, Kyungsoo decides to finally come out of his room. He really needs to use the toilet and he hasn’t taken a shower yet today. When he opens the door and attempts to step out into the hallway, he’s shocked to see Chanyeol laid out in front of his door. What is he doing?

 

The hairs on Kyungsoo’s neck and arms tingle, he doesn’t have a good feeling about this.

 

“Stop. Get up,” he directs Chanyeol. He avoids looking directly at Chanyeol, even as he hops over the large mass of his body. Chanyeol doesn’t move or say a word.

 

Unfortunately, when he comes back from his shower, Chanyeol is still there.

 

Kyungsoo feigns annoyance. “If you’re bored. Go do something and leave me alone.”

 

Sometimes being mean is the only way he knows how to shut Chanyeol down -- although it only works about 70% of the time.

 

Again, Chanyeol doesn’t budge. From the corner of his eyes, Kyungsoo can see that Chanyeol’s own eyes are closed -- his face relaxed as if in repose.

 

To complete his act, Kyungsoo slams his door shut. He doesn’t know what to do. Why is Chanyeol doing this? Why won’t he say anything? It’s very strange for Chanyeol to be silent.

 

Kyungsoo wishes the other members would come back soon. He doesn’t know how much longer he can withstand Chanyeol’s siege.

 

An hour passes. Kyungsoo quietly pries his door open. Chanyeol is still there!

 

“Yah! You’re crazy. Seriously stop,” he yells down at Chanyeol, nudging the boy’s long leg with his foot.

Chanyeol doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word. Not even after repeated kicks from Kyungsoo with increasing force. Kyungsoo retreats back into his room.

 

A half-hour later Kyungsoo is sitting on the edge of his bed, his entire body strained taut like a guitar string. Kyungsoo really needs a glass of water to quench his dry throat, but he can’t dare open his door again for fear of seeing Chanyeol still lying there.

 

His heart is pounding in his chest. Does Chanyeol want his attention this bad? Has his constant cold shoulder made Chanyeol lose it? Why does Chanyeol even care so much? Why won’t Chanyeol just give up and realize that Kyungsoo isn’t worth it -- that he isn’t going to get what he wants, not because Kyungsoo won’t give it to him, but because he can’t?

 

******

 

The truth is that Chanyeol has drifted off to sleep. He lulled himself there thinking about the hours he and Kyungsoo had spent alone while practicing “Boyfriend” for the Love Concert. He also thought about when they were rehearsing for their last tour and Kyungsoo had let him hold him and cradle him -- probably too exhausted to fight. How wonderful and warm it felt to have Kyungsoo close, soft and content in his arms.

 

As he fell deeper into sleep his thoughts became less lucid, his mind opening up to a strange and unfamiliar setting…

 

Chanyeol was in an expansive white room b with lots and lots of people he didn’t recognize. He had the feeling that he was supposed to be looking for someone, or something. But he couldn’t clearly “see” what that was.

 

He felt strong though. He felt powerful. He felt unstoppable. Like this was his mission in life, this was what he was created to do, and therefore there was no way that he wouldn’t succeed. If only he could just remember what he was freaking supposed to do -- who or what he was supposed to find.

 

Like the whoosh of being hit in the head with a ball, a buzzing swept through him, almost knocking him to the ground. It sounded like an electric guitar that was out of tune. Chanyeol instinctively knew that what he was here to find was nearby.

 

He frantically scanned the room, searching to his left and right, in front of him, behind him. Behind. Me.

 

Chanyeol’s vision blurred then heightened into laser-like focus -- he didn’t know where but his body was dragging him like a magnet toward the object he was seeking. His feet followed the pull until... there “it” was, banked my streams of light from some kind of window or doorway.

 

It was a “he” and he looked magnificent, like -- though it sounded totally cheesy -- an angel. Dark hair that skimmed across his forehead, large almond-colored eyes, a strong supple nose, and lips: lush, pink, plump lips. His heart skipped a beat.

 

Is this who he was supposed to find? But who was he? Did he know who Chanyeol was? Chanyeol blurted out, “Hey!” in the male’s direction. When said male turned to look at the source of the sound, he suddenly ran toward Chanyeol and stopped just inches from his face.

 

This is weird, what does this mean? Chanyeol wondered.

 

The mystery boy breathed back, “Hey,” paused and continued, “I knew it’d only be a matter of time until you found me.”

 

Chanyeol didn’t know what to say, so he said whatever came to his mind first:

 

“I didn’t know I was even supposed to find you, I mean I knew, but I didn’t really know. My body knew, but my mind didn’t.”

 

“Yes, that’s how it works,” he said. Chanyeol wanted to grab him, hold him, clutch him to his chest, possess him. Mystery boy almost seemed to expect that? His was body tense and trembling although he stayed exactly where he was despite his fear... Was it fear?

 

“Are you afraid of me?” Chanyeol asked. He had no problem asking hard questions in this dream -- he needed this gumption in real life.

 

“Afraid? I don’t know. Should I be?” His big eyes looked up into Chanyeol’s, wide and uncertain yet committed to the moment.

 

Chanyeol had so many questions: Where the hell was he? Who was this person? This seemed a place of instinct so he did what he felt he needed to do. Chanyeol hugged the mystery boy.

 

Once Chanyeol’s arms wrapped around the boy’s torso the buzzing stopped and the people that had been milling aimlessly around them melted away. The white room turned dark.

 

Chanyeol suddenly felt drained of energy, but completely relaxed, like he’d been drugged, totally out of commission. He could feel mystery boy’s warm, clammy breath against his neck, inhaling and exhaling rapidly.

 

Mystery boy moved his head so that it was face-to-face with Chanyeol’s again, though Chanyeol was sure it was a bit of a struggle because he was certain that he was squeezing the mystery boy incredibly hard.

 

And the most unexpected thing happened -- mystery boy kissed him...with those plump lips. And they felt as remarkable as they looked. Replacing the buzzing, a humming, a beautiful melodic humming sound rang throughout the space, through their bodies -- Chanyeol could tell mystery boy heard it, felt it too.

 

“Sorry,” mystery boy said, his ears burning red, “I’m completely out of turn, since you’re my master, but I really wanted to do that for some reason.”

 

Chanyeol’s breath caught in his throat -- the overflowing feeling of love and affection he felt for this stranger was incredible, something he’d never felt before in his entire life -- whatever life he had lived, was living -- his feelings were so heavy he was on the brink of crying.

 

Master? Chanyeol repeated to himself. He didn’t feel like the boy’s master, he felt like his slave, but... didn’t want to be anything else.

 

Chanyeol awakes in the now-dark hallway with tears wetting his face, drops pulled by gravity, plopping into his ears. His dream had been so strange, but he knew that the “mystery boy” was Kyungsoo. Did he yearn for the boy’s attention and affection so much that he dreamed such a dream while lying on the floor outside of Kyungsoo’s bedroom?

 

In this moment, Chanyeol hates himself. How could he let himself get this desperate? How could he let go of himself completely and literally lay at Kyungsoo’s feet? He gets up, body stiff and sore from the hard floor, and trudges to his room, closing and locking his own door.

 

Chanyeol thinks maybe he should go see a doctor. This kind of behavior can’t be healthy. These feelings were too strong -- something was wrong with him. He lies down on his bed, letting out a sigh that does nothing to relieve the pain crushing his chest.

 

******

 

When the other members come home, they ask Kyungsoo what’s up with Chanyeol because he won’t come out of his room.

 

“Not sure. He’s probably playing video games.” Kyungsoo feigns ignorance.

 

“But I knocked on his door and called for him like five times…,” says a bewildered Baekhyun.

 

“He’s probably composing with his headphones on,” Jongin offers. Kyungsoo is relieved he’s not forced to come up with another excuse.

 

“But then we’d most likely hear him singing loudly,” Junmyeon interjects, chuckling to himself. “Why does he always sound like he’s singing for his life?”

 

Jongdae cackles. “So true!”

 

“Should I ask manager-nim to check on him?” Minseok asks, concerned.

 

“Nah, I texted him outside of the group chat, and he texted me back. He said he’s just not feeling well, so he’s gonna sleep it off,” informs Sehun.

 

Before they can blink, they hear Yixing shouting at Chanyeol’s door, “Channie, do you need some soup or medicine? I can buy it for you! Channie?!”

 

Sehun dashes toward the sound.

 

“He’s probably asleep with his earplugs in. It’s okay Yixing hyung!” Sehun says, his arm slung around his older but shorter boy’s shoulders, returning Yixing to the kitchen where they’ve all been gathered.

 

Fortunately that ends the discussion on Chanyeol for the day, allowing Kyungsoo to finally exhale.

 

For the next couple of days, despite their group schedules, Chanyeol barely glances at Kyungsoo. His eyes glide over Kyungsoo like he’s some common object that Chanyeol has zero interest in whatsoever.

 

Kyungsoo’s initial relief subsides quickly under the coolness of Chanyeol’s new disposition. He had wanted Chanyeol to give up on him, but only in a superficial sense, not completely, not as if he barely existed. It hurt Kyungsoo more than he wanted to admit to himself, but the sharp ache in his chest was unignorable.

 

Why did Park Chanyeol have to be so black and white, so all-or-nothing? Why was there no in-between with him? That’s what frustrated and scared Kyungsoo the most: he either had to open himself up to the full flood of Chanyeol’s affection or he had to bear the heaviness of the tall boy’s cold shoulder of hurt (icy and stinging).

 

******

 

Laying in his bed on the fifth full day of being ignored by Chanyeol, Kyungsoo finds it hard to sleep -- impossible actually. It’s already 3:00 am according to the clock on his nightstand. Is this how Chanyeol felt when he’d ignored him so many times?.

 

But Kyungsoo felt so miserable, while Chanyeol always seemed so foolishly upbeat. Where did Chanyeol get his boundless optimism?

 

Kyungsoo realizes he had taken Chanyeol for granted: as a friend, as a human being who was decent and caring (albeit annoying at times); as someone who freakin’ tried. That was not something to be taken lightly.

 

Kyungsoo wholeheartedly felt that he didn’t deserve that from Chanyeol, especially considering how he had treated him sometimes, but... whether he deserved it or not didn’t negate the fact the Chanyeol wanted to give him his affection -- no matter what.

 

Who was Kyungsoo to carelessly stomp all over that? Kyungsoo shuddered with self-disgust. He had to try and make this right.

 

He gets out of bed, creeping from his room to Chanyeol’s bedroom door. As quietly as he can, he knocks and whispers, “Chanyeol-ah.”

 

Nothing.

 

He knocks lightly again.

 

Nothing.

 

“Chanyeol-ah, it’s me Kyungsoo. C’mon…” Kyungsoo pleads.

 

Nothing… then a muffled thump on the other side of the door; as if something soft had been thrown at it.

 

Did he just throw something at me, through the door?? Kyungsoo instinctually fumes, then realizes the silliness of it. Chanyeol should throw something at him for all he’s put him through.

 

“Chanyeol-ah...I’m…” Kyungsoo swallows down the fear causing his heart to race, “I’m sorry.”

 

Still nothing.

 

Kyungsoo turns to head back to his room, when he hears the door’s lock click behind him. He turns to see the door open into the darkness of Chanyeol’s room.

 

By the time Kyungsoo enters the bedroom, Chanyeol’s returned (perhaps) to the computer on his desk. A review on their latest album release open on Naver.

 

Chanyeol’s back is to Kyungsoo like he’s not even there.

 

Kyungsoo sighs.

 

At that, Chanyeol swings around in his chair, glaring at Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo has never seen Chanyeol look like this. Losing his courage, he thinks about retreating. This is a bad idea. This won’t end well.

 

“Why are you sighing, huh? Why are you the one sighing and not me? I really want to know, so tell me.” His eyes pierce into Kyungsoo.

 

Kyungsoo feels tiny under Chanyeol’s stare -- he is smaller than Chanyeol, but in this moment he feels comparable to a speck of dust on the wood floor.

 

Kyungsoo takes a deep breath. He needs to do what he set out to do… to try, like Chanyeol always did (well, used to).

 

“Chanyeol, I don’t understand why you care so much, but I’m going to try to accept it. I don’t want to take it for granted...I...don’t,” the words catching in his throat.

 

Chanyeol moves with heavy steps from his desk chair to sit on his bed.

 

“I don’t know why either, but I do. I just really care about you,” Chanyeol blurts out, letting his head droop. There’s a long pause and just above a whisper he says, “I love you.”

 

Kyungsoo moves to sit next to Chanyeol, his hand trembling as he places it on Chanyeol’s sunken shoulder.

 

He doesn't have the words to say I love you back yet; instead he squeezes Chanyeol’s shoulder as hard as he can. Pain. Hurt. The only way he knows how to express his affection to this boy whose affinity is so overwhelming he worries he might drown in it.

 

He wants to say, I love you too, but -- outside of my family -- love brings the sting of heartache (His ex...Kris...Luhan...Tao...) and I’m scared. Because I don’t want to lose you too.

 

Chanyeol winces slightly, but continues, “And I’m fine with that because maybe it’s just something that doesn’t even need a ing explanation. It just is. Happiness is what matters, and I’m happy when I’m with you. I’m selfish I guess…”

 

Kyungsoo releases his grip on Chanyeol’s shoulder, but leaves it there.

 

“No! You’re not. If anyone’s selfish it’s me. I’m sorry Chanyeol. Really sorry. Can you forgive me? I promise to be a better friend to you.”

 

“Of course I do. I didn’t know how much longer I could stay mad at you anyway. Although I was trying really hard,” Chanyeol snuffs.

 

Chanyeol looks up into Kyungsoo’s eyes, tugging out a smile. Kyungsoo notices his puffy eyelids and the red that rims his large eyes. He’d been crying?

 

Kyungsoo smiles back, his own eyes damp and salty. The hand on Chanyeol’s shoulder slides along the boy’s back and before long Kyungsoo has both his arms around Chanyeol, pressing himself into the bigger boy’s chest.

 

They stay like this for some time, Kyungsoo’s heart opening like a new bud.

 

******

 

Chanyeol exhales, wrapping his arms around Kyungsoo in return.

His heart is overflowing like a flooded dam; three words echoing in his head: He sees me.