Baekhyun doesn't realize how far he's run until the burn in his lungs becomes too much to bear, until his legs feel like jelly, until the clouds in his eyes clear. It's dreary and chilly outside, but his forehead is covered in sweat, heart pumping far too fast inside his chest. It's like he's on the edge of a nightmare, like he'll topple off the cliff he's been balancing on for years.

He's far from the rink, far from his dorm -- he's almost off campus, actually. Maybe that's for the better, Baekhyun thinks, gulping in the cold air. Maybe he needs to leave for now; maybe he never needs to think about how easily Chanyeol had both invaded his trust and ripped it apart.

His heart had been steeped in Chanyeol's smiles for a minute too long; he'd gotten too used to his presence and the calm it brought him. He'd forgotten that their relationship -- their friendship, Baekhyun corrects himself -- was built on nothing more than learning to skate, on a list of demands that Jongdae had laid out. 

It makes Baekhyun feel sick, honestly. He can't stop his mind from traveling, from replaying the way Chanyeol's hair curls against his ears, how his shoulders disappear in his big hoodies, the feel of his lips when they're pressed against Baekhyun's so softly. Baekhyun knows that he should've figured it out, should've suspected that a guy like Chanyeol would have no reason to dote on him, to hold him like he did -- at least, not without reason.

The fact that Baekhyun had always initiated every kiss, every touch -- it hits him now, harder than a fall on the ice. Chanyeol had never wanted what happened between them, had never pushed the boundaries. He'd smile and joke and invite Baekhyun places, but Chanyeol's fingers would never linger too long. 

He's crying, he realizes, and this forces his body to halt. Once he's stopped moving, he realizes that it really is cold out here, that he didn't grab his coat from the locker room -- just slipped out of his skates and into sneakers, moving as quickly as possible in order to make it outside before tears could overflow. With shaky hands, Baekhyun forces his numb fingers to dial a familiar number, even as uneasiness settles in his stomach at the thought of it. 

"Can you come get me?" he coughs in order to shield the nasal in his voice, to disguise the tears that are still welling in his eyes.  "I don't know where I am." 

The noise his best friend makes is confused and worried, immediately agreeing, automatically conducting an interview on his whereabouts and the catch in his voice. Jongdae knows him so well, knows that the tone of his voice was more than distressed, knows that Baekhyun is teetering on the brink of more tears as he waits. 

He can't find it in himself to blame Jongdae in all of this. After all, his best friend had just wanted him to be comfortable. Trusting Chanyeol and his soft eyes and his fake words wasn't Jongdae's fault; he only had one person to blame -- himself. 

--

Chanyeol's only met with a confused Sunyoung when he returns from putting on his skates. She looks shaken, her pink painted lips open in confusion. His eyes are questioning and the short girl shrugs in return, flabbergasted. 

"Where's Baekhyun?" he asks, looking around. His eyes only pick up on younger skaters on the ice, his mentor nowhere to be seen. He can't imagine why Baekhyun would suddenly disappear, but when he looks back to the girl, he's met with guilty eyes. Suddenly, his stomach is uneasy with fear. 

"I don't know! It was so strange. I'm confused, honestly --" 

"What happened? Is he hurt?" Chanyeol leans down without waiting for a response, unlacing his skates with inept hands. Something about the image of a pained Baekhyun sends icy fear pouring into his bloodstream, and suddenly the confusion is replaced with an acute sense of fear. 

"He just left," she says, voice high pitched and laced with confusion. "I was just talking to him about you and Jongdae and your friendships -- I was trying to be friendly. And he bolted." 

"What do you mean?" Chanyeol's voice comes out rushed as he kicks his left skate off. He fingers fumble to start on the right skate as well, situations swirling around in his mind, illogical conclusions pooling in the pit of his stomach. 

"I just brought up what you told me about," her voice lowers in shame, as if she's worried for the other skaters to notice that something is amiss. "And his eyes got all sad and far away and he was leaving before I could say anything else. I honestly don't know." 

Chanyeol nods her worried eyes away, heading toward the locker room instead of the ice, determined to follow after Baekhyun. He's throwing his skates back into Baekhyun's locker when he recognizes the dark green coat hanging there, the soft scarf that Baekhyun's always bundled in. The acidic sea thrashing in Chanyeol's stomach finally burns a hole through, leaving him feeling empty and queasy at the thought of Baekhyun rushing out without getting any of his belongings. 

It translates to intense panic, to a thoughtlessness that Chanyeol hasn't seen in Baekhyun's actions since that morning his eyes looked so frightened in the bakery. Chanyeol's never been big on intuititon, but the burn in his throat tells him Baekhyun won't be reaching out to him first this time, that there will be no text messages and emoji hearts and sleepy smiles. 

He grabs the coat and scarf with a deep sigh, relishing in the way they're soft and warm and smell like Baekhyun. Pushing his way back toward the entrance of the rink, into the gusts of frigid wind outside, Chanyeol tries to settle the unnerving silence ringing in his head and the violent anxiety tumbling in his stomach. 

--

He picks at his comforter with no-longer-numb fingers, avoiding looking to his roommate -- something he's becoming increasingly skilled in, especially after the silent car ride home from the edge of campus.

"Baek, what happened?" Jongdae's voice is quiet -- quieter than Baekhyun thinks he's heard in years, even more hushed than the time he'd been dumped by his first girlfriend. Jongdae had, of course, been devastated, but, in typical Jongdae fashion, he'd hidden that all in favor of cracking a joke, of smiling like he always had. There's no trace of that humor in Jongdae's tone now, though, and it's alarming. 

Baekhyun can see genuine worry in his eyes and it only makes sadness and anger mingle more in his brain, leaving him scrambling to connect the dots, to find a way to react that doesn't feel so awful and painful. He wants it to all make sense, wants to trust that his best friend was looking out for him, wants to find a way to disconnect the feeling of being lied to from the boy in front of him.

He wishes he could smile it all away like Jongdae, could fake that everything was fine, but when Baekhyun tries to move his lips into a smile, he can feel it crumpling immediately, almost pathetically, and he knows that there's no way for him to feign his happiness right now.

So, despite the doubts creeping into the corners of his mind about the entire situation, he opens up to his best friend, just like always. 

"This junior at the rink started talking about you and Chanyeol and me and," Baekhyun looks up to meet Jongdae's eyes, looking for the sincerity that's always hiding in them. "She said stuff about Chanyeol being told -- told to protect me." 

Jongdae makes a noise, something between confusion and recognition. "I told him to not let his teammates bully you while he was learning to skate." 

Baekhyun's eyes look hopeful, impossibly wide and brown and filled with a lot more than fear. 

"Really?" 

Jongdae nods, small smile showing itself for the first time that day, and it sets a flame of comfort alight in Baekhyun's chest. It's distinguished just as quickly, however, because the reality of it being true sets in. 

"That's not how the junior said it, though. Chanyeol told her we had a mutual relationship. I was a teacher and he was a bodyguard and that was it. And the worst part is that he told her! He doesn't even know Sunyoung, why would he say anything to her?" Baekhyun feels himself getting worked up, so he moves to sprawl across his bed instead. "He treated me like a friend and wouldn't leave me alone during pyschology, but it was all because it was like a job to him. Probably thought it was fun to mess with the antisocial kid he's in charge of." 

Jongdae purses his lips, unsure.

"Baek, I really think you're overthinking it." 

"I don't think I am," his voice is sad. "He probably thought it was funny and cute to bring me around his friends, to invite me to parties. He probably thought he could put me in an uncomortable position and rush in like prince charming -- and he did. Jongdae, it was a game." 

By now, Baekhyun is facing the wall, tears fighting their way into his eyes, panic taking over, brain too far past any semblance of logic. He feels dramatic and annoying, but also validated in his feelings, so sure of the doubts piling up. His every thought pricks his skin like thorns, heart and mind and body unsettled. 

"Listen, Baek, I'm positive that he genuinely likes you," Jongdae takes a deep breath. "Why don't I call Kyungsoo and ask? I'm sure he'll agree that Chanyeol isn't using you like you think." 

Baekhyun perks up at this, if only for the hope of proving himself wrong. God, he wants to be wrong. Baekhyun traces a circle against his bare arm, hoping to distract himself from Jongdae's intense stare and lingering proposal.

Though his best friend doesn't nod, Jongdae takes his body language as a yes and pulls out his phone, quickly searching for a familiar skater's number. 

"Jongdae?" Jongin's voice is muddled with another, rather hushed, voice. It takes little to no guessing for Jongdae to connect the dots, a newly familiar face popping up in his mind. 

"Is Kyungsoo there?" 

This seems to stun Jongin, if his abrupt and prolonged silence is any indication. A few seconds of stale air later, Jongin is coughing into the phone, syllables mashing together in what seems to be surprise. "Yeah, how'd you know?" 

"I guessed," Jongdae doesn't miss more whispering in the back. "Can I talk to him?" 

There's shuffling over the line, confused noises and more whispers, and suddenly it's silent all over again. Jongdae takes this chance to switch to speakerphone, noticing the way Baekhyun is fitfully adjusting his clothes. It's painfully obvious that the boy is trying too hard to distract himself from the conversation that's about to take place. 

"Hello?" Kyungsoo's voice is much deeper than Jongin's and it reverberates around the room with a warm intensity. 

"Hey, it's Jongdae. There's been this big misunderstanding with Baekhyun and -- nevermind, I'll just get to the point. Why did Chanyeol invite Baekhyun to the party?" 

"What?" 

"Baekhyun. Party. Why?" 

"Look, I'm not sure what happened between Chanyeol and Baekhyun, but I don't know if me getting involved will help anything --" there's whispering in this background, but this time Jongdae recognizes that it's Jongin. Probably convincing Kyungsoo to answer, Jongdae thinks gratefully. 

Baekhyun's holding his breath, though he knows that it's futile, that his actions have no effect on what will Kyungsoo divulge. 

 "Sehun and I said something about Baekhyun being unfriendly," Kyungsoo's voice is quiet, filled with embarrassment and regret. "And Chanyeol wanted to show us that he wasn't, I think? So he invited him to prove us wrong. It was dumb, really. We shouldn't have said that about him." 

It's enough for Baekhyun. Jongdae senses the immediate tension in his roommate, notices the way he curls in on himself. , he thinks, that's not what Kyungsoo was supposed to say. 

"Hang up, Jongdae. I told you." 

Jongdae makes a tiny noise into the phone before hanging up, fear leaping into his chest as he watches Baekhyun's shoulders shake. He's still facing away, but the small intake of breath and subsequent sniffle is too clear to ignore -- Baekhyun's crying. 

"Baek," he moves to kneel next to his bed, hand resting on the back of Baekhyun's shoulder. "I really don't think it's like that." 

Baekhyun feels something inside him snap at the tone Jongdae's using, at how he feels pitied and belittled and used. 

"You heard Kyungsoo! He invited me to prove his friends wrong! To show me off like some kind of toy!" Baekhyun's voice is cracking and there are hot tears rolling down his cheeks. "He didn't want to get close to me, he just wanted to see how far he could go in making a friendship with an unfriendly weirdo." 

"Baekhyun, stop," Jongdae sighs and opens his mouth again, but Baekhyun's voice is loud and angry and pointed at him in an instant.

"You stop! You're the one who told him that! You're the one who confirmed that I was a ing freak who needed someone to guard him -- you're the one who convinced me to teach him when it didn't make me comfortable. Don't act like you're innocent in this. If I hadn't agreed because of you, he would have never had the chance to lie to me and make me feel like this." 

Jongdae pulls his hand away as if he's been burned, hurt swimming in his eyes. 

"Baek --" 

"Can you just leave me alone?" Baekhyun hates the acidity of his voice, of the way Jongdae recoils from his bedside immediately.

But he can't stop thinking about Chanyeol's smile being fake, about the time he'd gotten ready because, really, he thought that party was like a date. He'd thought that Chanyeol's bloody nose and the starry look in his eyes that night had been real, that the happiness in his steps was because of how close their hands were to brushing each other, not because he'd won some ing game by showcasing Baekhyun's insecurities to his friends. 

Then again, he thinks bitterly, he should've known. He should've realized that everything is always a game to Chanyeol, and that games exist only to be won -- the entire reason he'd started skating was to defend his team's honor in a ridiculous bet after all. 

Baekhyun knows he's crying again, knows that he's facing the wall and that Jongdae has disappeared out the door. He's alone, left to his thoughts and memories and nightmares, and suddenly he wishes that anyone was here with him, no matter the anger that he held for them. Worst of all, he finds himself wishing that Chanyeol's warm hands were on him, that a dark mop of hair was on the pillow next to his, deep voice talking about nothing. 

It's on his fourth daydream (this time of Chanyeol's laugh and how it rings through Baekhyun's ears like a melody) that he registers the sound of his phone chiming through his tears. He's been sobbing openly, heaving noises covering up any outside sounds, and Baekhyun is almost shocked at himself for being so numb to his surroundings. 

When he reads the name across the screen, though, he wishes he could be a little more numb. 

Six missed calls from Chanyeol later, Baekhyun forces a hand through his hair, combing it away from the snot and tears covering his face, determined to get out of this room before Chanyeol comes knocking.

He can't stand the thought of an oblivious Chanyeol asking him what's wrong with that face -- the one that Baekhyun believed was sincere, the one that Baekhyun still wants to trust. He can't stand the thought of Jongdae coming back and looking at him with guilty eyes, too scared to approach him. Mostly, he can't stand the thought of either boy knowing where he is.

It's halfway through the chilly walk to Jongin's dorm that Baekhyun realizes he might be what Kyungsoo and Sehun had assumed, that he might really be the fool he'd feared becoming.

-- 

"He won't pick up. I went to his dorm and Jongdae said he hadn't been back in three days! I asked where he was, but Jongdae wouldn't tell me. I'm freaking out." 

Kyungsoo looks at his captain with worried eyes, something boiling under the surface that catches Chanyeol's attention. 

"Jongdae called me that day," Kyungsoo admits. "I told him that you invited Baekhyun to the party because you wanted to prove us wrong about him being weird. And then he hung up." 

Chanyeol buries his head in his hands at that, leaning so far into his knees that he looks as though he's folded over. It's pitiful, Kyungsoo thinks, and he's filled with dread and guilt. 

"I'm sorry, Chanyeol," his voice is sincere, punctuated with a soft hand on Chanyeol's head, ruffling his curly hair. "I didn't realize what he was asking about." 

"It's not your fault. I just wish I could see him." 

The pure desperation in his voice makes Kyungsoo's heart ache, makes guilt hit him like a tidal wave. 

"I can ask Jongin how he is," Kyungsoo suggests very quietly, as if he knows something he shouldn't. "Jongin sees him." 

Chanyeol's head is up again, searching Kyungsoo's eyes, verifying the validity of his words. It's not much, but there's something close to a small smile blooming over Chanyeol's lips. Kyungsoo matches him, smiling slightly, hoping that a picture or word from Jongin will settle the uneasiness in Chanyeol's heart for at least a day. 

"Jongin, he --" Chanyeol shakes his head. "He's special to you, right?" 

Kyungsoo looks taken aback, frightened. He shakes his head vehemently. Too eagerly, Chanyeol notes. Chanyeol's mind flits back to the scene in the rink that day, the way Kyungsoo had read and waited for Jongin, the smile on his face when they left together. How Kyungsoo glowed after seeing him -- how Kyungsoo's eyes lit up when he whispered Jongin's name only a minute ago.

"Well, if he is special to you," Chanyeol copies Kyungsoo's quiet tone. "Don't be stupid like me. You should tell him. Don't let something happen that leads to him isolating himself from you. It's ing awful." 

Kyungsoo looks away instead of answering, cheeks bright red, shaking his head. 

"I'll ask about Baekhyun, okay? To make sure he's okay." 

Chanyeol seems to accept that this is as far as he'll be able to pry on the subject, that there's something with Jongin that Kyungsoo is too scared to talk about. It's cute, he thinks, but it's terrifying. It's the same way he'd felt the first few weeks of practice -- too giddy, too enthralled to put anything into words or emotions, too stupid to make things clear, too stupid to step forward first. 

"Thanks, Soo. It means the world right now." 

It's only after five days that he finally gets to hear about Baekhyun, though it's over text from Jongin. The messages are short, but they're enough to make Chanyeol feel a little sick in the stomach. 

from: jongin 
hyung sleeps all day and cries at night. i keep trying to make him go out, but he says he doesn't want to. 

from: jongin
he doesn't want to talk about anything. 

--

Baekhyun is in a haze. Everything kind of feels like a secondary thought, at least at the moment. Baekhyun focuses on his studies, on the notes he asks his classmates to send to him, on the books he's reading and essays he's writing. He's positive he's run through every single absence excuse he could possibly conjure up, is sure that both his professors and classmates are suspecting something is off. 

Some days are good. Jongin gets up early to go the rink, giving Baekhyun a pat on the cheek on the way out, sad eyes trailing over his friend for a minute. Baekhyun works hard and sleeps and avoids thinking of the tall boy who flits behind his eyelids as he drifts off.

Other days, Baekhyun is unfocused and too tired. He sleeps the day away, fighting through multiple nightmares, shaking and screaming and sweating until he's suddenly gasping for breath and the world is spinning back into reality. There's days spent reliving days in high school.

But there's also days spent inventing new nightmares, ones that hurt more acutely, if only because Baekhyun knows the hands pushing him down, recognizes the eyes that glare at him, feels familiar lips against his in ways that make him feel as though he's close to suffocating. 

--  

from: chanyeol
Baekhyun, are you okay? Just text me back so I know you're okay. I'm sorry. 

from: chanyeol
Pyschology is lonely without you. 

from: chanyeol
Can you tell me where you are? I'm so worried and Jongdae is barely sleeping. 

from: chanyeol
Please respond. Let me know you're okay.

from: chanyeol
I miss you.

--

"Baekhyun, I think you should go outside for a little bit. It's been awhile since you went to the rink. Come with me?"

The smaller looks as if this is not an ideal plan, but for some reason Jongin isn't taking no for an answer today. Despite his protests, the taller forces his friend into a standing position, pushes him toward the bathroom, urges him to clean up and get ready to face sunlight. 

He has to admit that washing his face and brushing his teeth helps to clean his mental state as well. But with a newly refreshed mind, Baekhyun also realizes just how insistent Jongin is being; he's certain there's no getting out of this trip.

He knows it's for the best -- Jongin has let him wallow in tears and pity for days, has let him focus on schoolwork instead of the turmoil inside. But that's over now, Baekhyun concludes. 

"Jongin, I really don't know --" 

"Please? You need to go for a walk and see the rink. It'll help you," Jongin's wrapping a scarf around Baekhyun's neck with a smile, hands moving to pinch his cheeks. "I promise!" 

The sheer familiarity in Jongin's voice and actions leads him to follow the taller. Even if the rink feels raw and painful right now, Jongin is right -- Baekhyun heals himself on the ice, uses skating as an outlet for the fear building up. Avoiding it is only hurting him more, he's sure. 

"Okay, okay," Baekhyun feels a smile creeping up at the pure joy in Jongin's subsequent cheek pinch. "I'm going, I'm going." 

Wrapped in Jongin's unfamiliar coat and scarf, Baekhyun feels like he's wearing armor of some sort, like the world can't hurt him. Even though he's messed everything up royally with Jongdae and he's terrified to run into Chanyeol, breathing in fresh air feels good. The cold turns the tip of his nose red, but he doesn't mind, not when he thinks about the alternative, about the unnatural sedation that's been flowing through his veins lately, about the cold sweat that holds him captive at night. 

The rink really is home, Baekhyun decides, when he's pushing the door open. It's peace and war and silence and music all at once. It's the clash of Baekhyun's boiling emotions and icy exterior, the sound of vicious yelling and joyful laughter, the crash of waves and the wind whipping through mountains. It's everything Baekhyun needs when he's feeling like this. 

His elation turns to confusion as soon as the door is fully open, however, because he's met with the sight of twenty boys on the ice -- makeshift skaters with bad form and hockey sticks and loud voices. He recognizes one in particular, feels his heart stop when he turns to look at him, too.

Jongin -- the ing idiot, Baekhyun laments -- had dragged him to the hockey game, to the place he knew Chanyeol would be. Specifically, he'd dragged Baekhyun here to wake him up. 

And as Chanyeol frantically skates away from his team and toward the pair by the entrance, Baekhyun can't remember a time when he's felt more awake. 

--

AAAAAAAA I KNOW IT'S BEEN FOREVER. okay i just have to say that...elyxion dot....gave us curly hair pcy..buff pcy......... its literally all ive ever wanted . its pcy in this fic. thank u mister chanyall you saved my life. 

also THANKS SO MUCH FOR PUTTING UP WITH MY TY POSTING SCHEDULE!!!!!! I LOVE YOU ALL GOODNIGHT!!! feedback is appreciated as always angels! <3

twitter: @baekyalls
curiouscat: curiouscat.me/baekyall