Things change. 

Chanyeol doesn't know how, or why, but they do.

Baekhyun looks at him differently, in a way that gives him a spark of hope, in a way that leaves his heart jumping into his throat. Maybe he's stupid and foolish and blind, or maybe he just wants to think that Baekhyun is looking at him in a new light, but he lets himself hope, lets his eyes linger on Baekhyun's soft features and tiny smiles. 

"Chanyeol, are you off to see your boyfriend? Going to go cuddle?" Sehun asks teasingly (as if Sehun doesn't have at least three guys he makes out with during every party, Chanyeol grumbles to himself). "Going to kiss your boyfr --" 

"That's the plan," he says it jokingly, but they both recognize the somewhat serious undertones in Chanyeol's deep voice. Kyungsoo says nothing from his huddled position in the corner of the room, but his thick eyebrows raise in an amused way, arching like the curve of his bowed lips. 

"Oh. Oh!" Sehun's smiling then, bright and uninhibited, obviously delighted at Chanyeol's bluntness.

Chanyeol ignores the blush that's steadily creeping its way up his neck and leaves their dorm, hoping that the cold wind will drown out the blood rushing to ears. Here goes nothing.

-- 

Sifting through piles of paperwork, he finally finds the section he'd highlighted earlier, and begins the work of citing the statistic in his paper. His back hurts and his neck creaks a little when he moves it, but it's fine.

It's all because he'd been sensible and decided to major in business with a minor in international relations, for when skating is no longer a viable option. As much as he enjoys it, Baekhyun knows that his knees will probably give out sometime before he's 35, so it's best to have a skillset that's not based on ice. And now he's stuck writing reports and essays, slaving over economic charts and memorizing vocabulary.

He feels a hard kick to his side and he yelps, turning to face the culprit: Jongdae. He only sees a huddle of a boy clutching his leg, pout on his face, though. His roommate seems to be in extreme pain from the collision with Baekhyun's small frame -- but it's no guarantee whether Jongdae is in genuine discomfort or if he's just being dramatic.

"! Baek, why are you on the floor again?" 

Okay, the pain seems real, Baekhyun notes. 

"I'm sitting on the floor because your little coffee table thing is the perfect height to work at," Baekhyun sighs. He puts his head down on the table, demonstrating his appreciation for the object, apparently. "Also, I kept falling asleep in my bed. And at the desk." 

Jongdae releases his leg and walks past, shaking his head. It's obvious that he disapproves, but Baekhyun ignores him, thinking about how he's going to transition between two arguments in a few short paragraphs. 

"The paper is due next week, Baek. You have time to, you know, sleep. You barely got three hours of sleep last night -- I can confirm this, since your tossing and turning kept me awake, too. Just sleep, you dumb little perfectionist." 

Baekhyun frowns at that. Sure, the paper is due in a week, but Chanyeol also has his hockey match that same week, and Baekhyun has a new routine to memorize for his next competition -- which means that he has to practice with both Chanyeol and by himself -- leaving him little to no time to write stupid economic papers. 

Not that Chanyeol had to be factored into his plans, but he couldn't just ignore the match altogether, not after all the time in the rink with Chanyeol. Not with how loud Chanyeol had cheered at his competition, how soft his eyes had looked that night in the diner, how comfortable his shoulder was to lean on during the ride back. Now he's blushing and sidetracked, Baekhyun realizes, and he shakes his head, eyes honing in on the obnoxiously yellow paragraph before him. 

"Baek, I'm going out," Jongdae's voice sounds far away and annoyed. "Please sleep." 

Baekhyun waves him off with a hum, focused only on finishing this section of analysis. If he can make it through this, he can sleep -- that's the deal he's made with himself. 

He's a little scared to sleep, though, because when he gets stressed like this, the nightmares come back more, ruining his chances of catching up on missed slumber. Maybe it'd be better to just avoid sleeping altogether and just pull an all-nighter, he considers. Having no sleep would balance out the nightmarish thoughts and, when he finally did let himself drift off, he'd be too tired for his mind to concoct terrifying situations, to make him relive memories of high school. 

All-nighter it is, then. He's three sentences into the next paragraph when he hears a knock on the door, soft and timid, definitively not Jongdae. 

Baekhyun looks down at himself -- the leggings, the hoodie, the socks and slippers, all old and ratty -- and he hopes it's no one important. Maybe he'd left a shirt in the dryer downstairs? Maybe Jongdae dropped something in the hallway? It was probably just a neighbor here to return something, to complain about the noise Jongdae makes on the daily.

He prays for it to be a small inconvenience as he pushes his hair out of his face and stands up. The sound of his back popping accompanies his walk to the door, and he feels relief seeping from the bones to the rest of his back. He's almost relaxed when he opens it to reveal a very shy, very charming Chanyeol. A messy haired, oversized t-shirt wearing Chanyeol. 

Baekhyun wants to scream. This wasn't expected -- if he had known Chanyeol would be here, he would've showered, would've put on something half decent. Chanyeol's eyes drift over his face and down to his clothes, settling comfortably on him, and there seems to be no judgement made, but Baekhyun feels his throat closing a little anyway. Maybe it's the way Chanyeol's eyes roam like that, or maybe it's just Chanyeol in general, but Baekhyun is suddenly bashful, full of butterflies and anxiety and warm, bubbly feelings. 

"What's . . . What's up?" Baekhyun coughs away the hesitance in his voice. "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to go get food on this side of campus," Chanyeol's face is twitching with ancticipation. "And you live around here. I wanted to take you for some lunch. If you want to, that is. You don't have to. But I thought you might want food, or that you might be hungry for dessert. If you're not, you can just get coffee or something -- not that you have to go, that's not what I'm saying. I meant that there's a ton of options for you, if you end up going with me, which you don't have to do. Sorry."

Baekhyun wants to laugh at the way Chanyeol's voice sounds uncharacteristically high-pitched, obviously nervous to intrude, to ask these questions. But then he watches Chanyeol's eyes trail from his body to his face to the sign hanging above Baekhyun's bed -- the one that Chanyeol had made, cheered with, and given to Baekhyun when they got back to the campus. The sign professing that Baekhyun had 'skated into his heart.' The one that Baekhyun stares at when he couldn't sleep or when he thought of rough hands grabbing for his neck, pushing him down onto harsh pavement. 

However ridiculous and cringe-inducing it had first appeared to Baekhyun, there's no reason for him to ever throw it away, he thinks. He likes the warmth that settles in his stomach when he thinks of it, when he pictures Chanyeol's gentle hands around his cheeks instead, lips prying secrets from Baekhyun's. 

"You kept it?" Chanyeol ventures to question, his voice coming out delicate and surprised, a mix of wonder and happiness.

It sounds like music to Baekhyun's ears and, for a minute, he wonders what it would be like to thread his fingers through Chanyeol's hair, to lay on his bed like the time they'd watched a movie together. To close his eyes and sleep, finally sleep, with Chanyeol's deep voice surrounding him, the glittery sign above them, soft afternoon sun heating the blankets around them. 

It's a dangerous thought. 

"Of course," Baekhyun shrugs. "I've never had a fan before; I have to keep it." 

Chanyeol makes a face at that, like he's eaten something sour, and he shakes his head. Before he can inquire about the look, about the way Chanyeol's cheeks turn rosy, there's a low rumbling sound. It's thunder, the pair realize belatedly, and Baekhyun suddenly concludes that he can't send Chanyeol away in the rain, can't ignore his hunger and shut the door on the boy now. 

Not that that was his plan. 

"Oh, it's raining," Chanyeol sounds disappointed, almost a little hurt, that the weather betrayed his plan. Baekhyun likes the way his voice rumbles like the thunder shaking the clouds, the way his eyes flash like lightning when they make eye contact. 

"Are you still hungry?" Baekhyun asks hesitantly, kicking his slippers off and moving to slip into some sneakers.

He needs a break anyway -- maybe getting coffee with Chanyeol will keep him awake for a few more minutes, and then he'll still be on schedule to pull an all-nighter. Maybe he wants to spend a few minutes with him, if only to watch the way his hair curls further in the rain, the way his eyelashes would look if they were wet against his cheekbones. Maybe he just likes rainy days, he reasons.

Chanyeol nods fervently, though his face looks distraught at the idea of going out in the rain, of subjecting Baekhyun to the elements in his thin leggings and cute hoodie and soft eyes and -- nevermind, Chanyeol thinks, that's a different day's thought process.

"We don't have to. I just stopped by because I thought you might be hungry, but I don't want to force you to go out in the rain just because --" 

Baekhyun ignores the taller's rambling, shuffling out into the hallway with his phone and wallet safely tucked away in the pocket of his hoodie. He's close to Chanyeol now, in a way that demands them to be, closed door pushing them together. 

It takes some restraint on Chanyeol's part to keep from leaning in and ghosting lips over Baekhyun's squishy little cheeks, from pushing a lock of hair out of the shorter's face. He's holding back a lot, he knows, especially when he considers the amount of times he's wound up alone in the shower, thinking of Baekhyun, dreaming of soft skin against his. 

He's snapped out of his daydream when Baekhyun's hand brushes against his, just enough to send chills down his arms. 

"There's a cafe a minute away," Baekhyun explains as he advances down the hall. There's something powerful in the way he walks, the way his hips sway, that makes Chanyeol feel as if the shorter is on the ice. 

He scurries after the boy, heart leaping out of his ribcage, Sehun's choice of words ringing through his head: boyfriend.

After a jog in the pouring rain, Baekhyun finally stops at a small business, pulling the door open quickly and slipping inside. Chanyeol follows within seconds, shivering from the cold water running down his back. Baekhyun had a hoodie -- thank goodness, Chanyeol thinks, because he didn't plan ahead and wouldn't have had anything to give Baekhyun -- but he'd just been in a t-shirt.

Baekhyun seems to notice this, too, when he turns around and sees the soaked boy behind him, feigning a happy smile. Chanyeol's hair is wet and curly and his cheeks are flushed. The shirt clings to him in ways that makes Baekhyun avert his eyes, fearing that if he looks too long, something will be given away. He needs to cover everything up as soon as possible, if only for Baekhyun's sanity.

He always jokes that Chanyeol is skinny and unassuming, but, really, Baekhyun hates the way his biceps are outlined, the way the wet fabric clings to hard stomach muscles, the way Chanyeol's face looks so soft compared to the muscles that are clearly visible through his sopping wet clothes. 

"Wow, it's freezing when you're soaking wet," Chanyeol jokes, rubbing large hands over himself dramatically. Usually, it'd be cute -- but today Baekhyun can feel his eyes trailing over his body, can feel others in the cafe doing the same. 

"Let's just get food and run back," Baekhyun says, a bitter taste in his mouth at the looks his (god what was he?) Chanyeol was garnering. "You'll catch a cold." 

"Sounds good. Here, I'll pay, since I forced you out," Chanyeol pushes past him to squint at the menu, hair flinging small drops of water when he turns his head to smile at Baekhyun. "Do you want coffee?" 

Baekhyun feels almost speechless, so he nods, memorizing the sharp lines of Chanyeol's backbones and the trail of his spine. He supposes that, before this moment, he should've realized that Chanyeol is popular. Chanyeol is tall and nice and talented, not to mention strong and handsome. It makes sense for girls and boys to want him, for people to flock to him like the jock he is. Like the football captain he is. 

But he realizes it for the first time when he watches the cashier trail her eyes down his face, his chest, his arms. Chanyeol is attractive, and he's chosen to spend time with annoying, scary Baekhyun, has chosen to ignore the girl's hungry eyes.

It sets something alight in Baekhyun's stomach, something that makes him feel queasy and sweaty and angry. But he ignores it and whispers his order to Chanyeol softly, watching the hair on the back of the taller's neck stand up, shivering involuntarily. He adores that he has this effect on the other boy -- he relishes in the way Chanyeol's body leans toward him when he tells her the order, as if they're a pair. 

He likes it even more when Chanyeol's wet hand lands on his waist, pulling him away from the counter and toward him, naturally. The look of confusion in the cashier's eyes sends a thrill into Baekhyun's blood, and his pulse quickens as he leans into the touch more, feeling connected by the waist, feeling like everywhere Chanyeol touches is on fire.

"It'll be ready in a minute," Chanyeol's voice is low and it only adds to the boil in Baekhyun's veins. "What were you working on when I came over? I noticed the papers. Sorry to interrupt." 

"It's a business essay," Baekhyun sighs when he thinks about it, a small headache forming as if on command. "It's for my major."

Chanyeol looks over to Baekhyun confusedly, forehead bunching into lines. 

"Why? You're going to become a professional ice skater." 

He sounds so sure. Baekhyun wishes he was that confident -- but between the rough years in high school and blows to his confidence over the years, everything is blurry. Dreams stay only as dreams sometimes, and he's scared that one of these days, he'll have to wake up. 

"I want to be a professional ice skater. I want to go to the olympics. I want to do what I love, but that doesn't mean I will. Life isn't like that." 

Chanyeol shakes his head, fingers around Baekhyun's waist tracing patterns against the hoodie's material. 

"You're going to do it; I've seen you skate. There's nothing holding you back. Trust me, you're going to make history and win gold and become everything you've ever dreamed of." 

Baekhyun wants to believe him. But he thinks about the nights when he can't sleep because of stupid, stupid memories. He thinks of the times when he's in a room full of people and he feels like his throat is constricting. He thinks about the time when he'd been scared of Chanyeol, when the arm around his waist would've made him shake. There's a lot holding him back, he thinks, but he ignores the pounding in his ears, instead focusing on their take-out bag of food sitting on the counter. 

"Come on," Baekhyun mumbles, slipping out of Chanyeol's grasp to head toward the door. He feels a little dizzy, a little uncomfortable with the fond intensity that Chanyeol had spoken with. It feels like Chanyeol is trying to know him. Like Chanyeol wants to hear about his nightmares, like Chanyeol might care. 

He can feel the taller running behind him, can hear the crinkling of the brown bag, and notes the sound of Chanyeol's breath against his neck when they're huddled by the entrance to the dorms, Baekhyun's cold, wet hands fumbling with his keycard. They're inside in a few seconds, harsh breathing and Chanyeol's chilled skin mingling with Baekhyun's. It feels like something sacred, like something that he can't afford to mess up. 

Chanyeol is tall and goofy and loud, but he likes Baekhyun, somehow. He likes him enough to suffer in the cold rain just in case Baekhyun was hungry, to follow him up the stairs obediently, to slip into his apartment wordlessly, eyes wide and clothes wet. 

"Here, I'll grab you something. You're soaked to the bone." 

Baekhyun's voice sounds hollow, as if he's holding something back, and Chanyeol lets his hand graze Baekhyun's neck softly, lets it settle on his shoulder as he watches the shorter ruffle through his clothes. He wants something sweet and understood to seep through, but all that get transferred is a few drops of water. 

Chanyeol watches as Baekhyun pulls out sweatpants and a t-shirt (obviously too big for Baekhyun) that reads 'Los Angeles' in ugly, sprayed on letters. It's very touristy, and the taller feels a glimmer of joy at the image of tiny Baekhyun in an oversized shirt at the beach, running around in the summer sun. Then he sees an entire section of vibrant jewel tones, of sparkles. They're Baekhyun's performance costumes, he realizes, and that's when Chanyeol comprehends that Baekhyun is small. 

He'd always known it -- had always towered over him, admired the way his hands were slim and small, the way his legs were wide compared to his waist. But when he looks at the way the costumes are small and form-fitting, when he finally understands that Baekhyun is short and flexible and could fit into the palms of his hands, it's like a jolt of electricity.

He feels embarrassed at the blood rushing south, at the way his heart thumps at the thought of lifting Baekhyun, of wrapping the boy's strong legs around his, of consuming the boy's waist in the span of two hands. 

He's thankful to get out of the wet clothes, but the scent of Baekhyun completely on him does nothing to help his situation, does nothing to help the way he's staring at Baekhyun like he's hungry for more than just food. He feels a little disgusting, so he adjusts himself to eat with a pillow over his lap, focusing the way Baekhyun relishes in his coffee instead.

"Thanks," Chanyeol says then. He means for the clothes and for the food, but nothing is specified. Baekhyun isn't sure if they need to specify anything to each other, anymore.

"Thanks for the coffee and the distraction," Baekhyun says, finally snapping out of whatever trance he was in. He's forgotten the look in Chanyeol's eyes, has buried the feeling of vulnerability in his chest for now. 

"Baekhyun," his voice is somewhat gruff, lower than usual, and it alerts Baekhyun of some sort of changed atmosphere. He notices the pillow over Chanyeol's lap, notices the lingering stares, notices the tremble in his fingers. "I want you to know that you deserve the best." 

Baekhyun only raises his eyebrows in return, so the taller continues on. 

"I don't know what has, you know, happened in the past. But I know that you work so hard," Chanyeol looks away to stare at the wall. "I wish you could tell how much everyone in the skating department loves you, how much Jongdae cares about you, how much your training has helped me. In more ways than one, really." 

 "Chanyeol, what are you trying to say?" Baekhyun feels a little uncomfortable with the topic, with the way Chanyeol's voice affects him.

"I want you to pursue figure skating. I want you to do what you believe the most in. I want you to spit in the face of anyone who says otherwise. I want you to win gold in the Olympics. I want you to go out there and show the world. I want you to live your dream --" 

"How do you know that's my dream?" Baekhyun is challenging him, the cocky air from the first time they'd met somehow coming back for a split second. He's building up walls, Chanyeol realizes, and he shifts closer. 

"Because I see the way your eyes light up when you skate, when you talk about skating, hell, even when you're teaching me how to fall -- it's what you love, Baekhyun. I'm not stupid." 

Baekhyun wants to scream that he is stupid, that he's skirting around something new and open and painful. He's making Baekhyun feel as though he cares, as if he wants to talk about his past, as there's a future that Chanyeol has a stake in. As if Chanyeol wants to be part of his future.  

"And? I've known for awhile that it's a pipe dream, that one day I'll have to give up my ing sparkly costumes to go wear a suit in the real world and --" 

Chanyeol sets down his food almost angrily, but he stops himself, afraid that he'll scare Baekyun, that he'll make a mistake he can't fix. 

"Dreams should be pursued," Chanyeol is resolute. "And when you shine when you're on the ice, when you own the crowd's attention, that dream becomes a reality. It's what you're best it, it's what makes you happiest, Baekhyun. If it makes you smile, I don't want you to ever stop doing it." 

There's something unsaid in that sentence, but Chanyeol's tone gives it away. 

"What about being realistic? Why should I just follow my heart, follow my smile?" 

Chanyeol shrugs, despondent, and takes a bite of his food.

"Because your smile is pretty. I want you to be happy, that's all. And I know skating makes you happy." 

Baekhyun likes the way he's oblivious, adores the way his wet hair is drying into curls. He looks peaceful, inexplicably soft like this, and Baekhyun suddenly feels tired. He's exhausted, and there's someone next to him radiating comfort and heat. It feels like Chanyeol cares about him, like there's affection lacing each word, even when they're said in frustration. 

"I'm tired, Chanyeol," Baekhyun's voice comes out soft, weariness mixing with shyness. He's never been one to even think about cuddling or napping in someone else's arms, but when he thinks about the nightmares, about the rain pouring outside, about Chanyeol's warm hands, his inhibitions evaporate. 

He moves toward his bed and climbs in, leaving a space on the outer side for Chanyeol, feeling his fatigue begin to take over with each second. Chanyeol stares at him, dumbfounded, completely enamoured, for a minute. Then Baekhyun is patting the spot next to him, a noise caught in the back of his throat, and Chanyeol's warm body slides in next to him, 

"I can't follow my smile or my heart," Baekhyun feels pitiful and foolish saying it out loud, but there's something about the way Chanyeol's fingers trace patterns on the sheets that makes him candid. "When I was in high school, kids used to pick on me, beat me up, yell at me -- all for figure skating. It was stupid, but it hurt, and I still dream about it sometimes. I feel like they're always there. No matter how much I love skating, I can't stand the memories coming back." 

Chanyeol's arm moves to wrap around Baekhyun's back, pulling him into his chest. It doesn't startle Baekhyun, which he's thankful for, and he focuses on the even breathing hitting his chest in warm puffs of air, on the way the smaller adjusts so that he's comfortable surrounded by Chanyeol.

"I was scared of you because of that. Because they were all tall, popular jocks -- they were just like you," Chanyeol ignores the stab at his heart because, somehow, long ago he'd figured that out. "But you're nice. You make me signs and you protect me." 

Chanyeol feels Baekhyun's face crumple against his chest, like he might cry, but then the shorter boy is gasping for breath, calming himself down. 

"I wish I could do what I want," Baekhyun explains, and then he's pushing Chanyeol's arms away, reaching up to feel Chanyeol's cheekbones. "But until I figure out how, you might have to keep encouraging me. Thanks." 

Chanyeol smiles and Baekhyun feels it against his fingers.

"Anything to make you smile." 

It's cheesy and stupid, but Baekhyun likes the way it makes his stomach churn. Chanyeol likes the heat that Baekhyun shares, likes the way he feels cradled in his arms, honest and open and gentle. 

Baekhyun settles deeper into the blankets, feeling almost content in his sleepy haze of honesty.

Maybe he should trust himself to the taller, maybe he should focus on skating, maybe he should listen to his heart, his smile. And so he pulls Chanyeol in for a chaste kiss, lips barely brushing, before he's closing his eyes, drifting off to the thrum of the taller's heart beat and the pitter patter of rain. 

--

hello!! im here with the fluff! i promise there will be drama and developments soon lol

ALSO: ok so i wanted you guys to have an opportunity to ask me questions about characters or plot or me personally? antyhing u want really? so, I made a curiouscat! i'll be happy to answer anything i get <333

https://curiouscat.me/baekyall !!!!

ok bye guys! thanks for the support, feedback is always appreciated!