Pairing: Park Chanyeol x Reader (OC: female)

Summary: Chanyeol, takes you to a New Year's party and there you see a newer side of him. You see people calling him young and stupid, but you see him telling them it's being in love.

Genre: Fluff, boyfriend!Chanyeol

Rating: PG

Word Count: 1140

Some things need to exist.

Things like Chanyeol holding the red solo cup with his sweater paws, laughing so loud that it echoes in the alleyway. How he shimmers under the fairy lights, body taking the shape of the music and creating beauty in its own rhythm. How he smiles, so bright and so blinding that he outdoes the moon. How his eyes curl and wrinkle with such intensity that a happy tear rolls down. How he sparkles and gleams, becomes an emotion akin to bliss.

How he is just, simply there, existing for the sake of it.

You came to the New Year's Party with low hopes and minimal intention of participation. It was a social obligation, a mere showpiece for Chanyeol and you, his girlfriend, to become a thriving topic at college. Who would want to spend new year in an old alleyway downtown, among drunk teenagers and impulsive hormones? 

But it was how Chanyeol asked you, his hands in yours and eyes pleading. You thought you'd pass, make up a story of period cramps and stay at home. But it was how you picked out the navy blue sweater for him, how he jumped around saying it was the ugliest thing he had ever seen but then worn it, stood in front of the mirror and smiled. It was how he cupped your face, whispered I'll be happy if you're there.

And his happiness was not something you have the heart to deny.

"Y/N, you listening?"

You turn around, attention reverting back on your friends from class, "Oh yeah, sorry."

"So one to ten", Naya slid her tongue behind her teeth as she referred to the huddled group, "What's Park Chanyeol's score?"

"Naya what the- she's right here!", Becca squealed. You took it in good humor, the commencement of the binary scale, would or would not .

"He's a seven-ish. Seven point five, maybe", you grin impishly as you watch your friends cackle, hold their stomach and hit your arm shyly.

"Damn you cant call that seven--", Becca interrupts Naya midway, eyes shadowing into a dont-be-a-- customary glare.

You chug the beer down, a straight bitter shot as you laugh with them. You find yourself staring at him again. You do this every ten seconds and you're doing it again. You count.

Ten- more seconds of gazing. Nine- more seconds of grinning stupidly. Eight- more seconds of you watching his body bend and flex. Seven- more seconds before he slows his pace. Six- more seconds before you feel your heart pounding against your ribs. Five- more seconds until you turn deaf to every sound. Four- more seconds until you don't know how to look away. Three- more seconds before he stops dancing. Two- more seconds before he turns his head and stares straight at you. One- more second before he mouths come here baby.

You feel your body gravitate towards him despite the fact you hate dancing. You hate the smell of alcohol and sweat, the feeling of unknown bodies pressing against yours in the crowded dance area. You hate eyes that trail your dress like they have seen you without it.

You hate the concept of partying altogether, find it a toxic heap of malcontent and indecision.

But it's different when Chanyeol looks so lovable, with his hands outstretched and lips pursed, eyes waiting for you to come into sight.

He squeezes past his friends, pulls you by your wrist and into his totality, hands on your hips to make you sway and match his rhythm, "You're being unfair to me. Where's my share of your attention for tonight?"

"I-I just", you try to keep your balance as he twirls you and presses your back to him, his arms crossed over your chest as you both moved at your own pace, "I thought you were busy with your friends."

"With you in that dress, looking like that; heaven forbid if I busy myself in anything but you", he leans into you, hot breath pooling against your ears.

It was mesmerizing you thought, how amidst jocks and cheerleaders, science geeks and literature worms, you were blending into a paradox of affection and developing a mutated emotion that cannot be fathomed on ink and paper or in test tubes. It couldn't be reasoned with, couldn't be paraphrased but only kept unrestrained and irresistible for the hell of it. 

"Say sorry to your friends, you won't be going back to them again tonight", he tries to laugh but it comes in a messy groan, unintentionally hushed. 

You felt overrun by night, covered and lulled into a rapture by him, "I won't be going even if you want me to, either."

"Look at you being bratty", he nudges your ear with his nose, voice light and breezy again.

The music comes to a sudden halt and everybody starts to form a cluster. Jimin pulls you into the cluster, stares at the sky as his hands find yours. Everyone yells, counting down with a fiery zest. You feel his fingers latch onto yours tighter, the vein in his throat popping as he screams the last few digits with every inch of his soul.

You hear the crackers, see the fireworks. The sky was a joyous golden and yellow, strings of bright lights across the night sky illuminating the city in a hasty need of celebration. Jimin turns you around, presses his forehead onto yours as he giggles in tingling adoration. "Happy new year baby!", he yells childishly, "It's probably gonna the same but this time it'll be with you."

He doesn't let you respond because he already knows you agree. He inclines himself further into you, pulling you into a kiss that is meaningful and deep. You find it sudden and surprising at first but you feel his hands at the back of your head, cradling it slowly and softly, as though pleading you to melt into him.

It wasn't long before you were surrounded by ohs and ahs and it wasn't long before Chanyeol realized he was way too passionate in his public display of affection. He flushes a deep red and nestles his face into the crook of your neck, laughing in his oceanic deep voice.

You laugh as you wrap your hands around his shoulder. You weren't conscious about the eyes on you anymore. He was letting his love show and you didn't hesitate to reciprocate. After months, you had the giddy butterflies at the pit of your stomach and after months you finally felt alive.