The only word that runs through Chanyeol's mind is soft. Soft lips, soft voice, softer confession. Their mouths meld together, open and warm and full of surprise, until the taller feels his head go light at the lack of air, at the way Baekhyun's slender fingers have managed to grasp his shoulders.

They pull apart, and Chanyeol is left staring at a wondrous sight -- Baekhyun, pink-cheeked and out of breath, hopeful and glimmering. This Baekhyun has red lips and hungry eyes, and the sight adds a new side to the boy he knows.

The Baekhyun that sees through him and smells like strawberries, the Baekhyun who shares his sad oldies with Chanyeol on the bus, the Baekhyun who looks wrecked after their kiss -- he will remember them all.

"Kyungsoo always talked about you," Baekhyun's face is a faint red, but his eyes display only confidence, and Chanyeol can't think clearly, not when his lips are still chasing after what they'd had only seconds before. "From the stories he told, I -- I think I got a little crush on you. And you were cute when I met you. So if you'd want to, I don't know, go out sometime --"

"A crush?" Chanyeol thinks he might choke on the sharp breath he takes, might actually pass out right now. Baekhyun’s body heat is so close, and the smaller is completely open with himself and his emotions. It scares him, thrills him, and leaves him dizzy. "On me?" 

The smaller doesn't see anything unusual with his statement, lips pouty and eyes confused. He nods and lets his shoulder hit Chanyeol's playfully -- it hurts Chanyeol's heart, physically. 

"Yes, on you. You're cute and nice and talented," Baekhyun shrugs, vaguely embarrassed, and Chanyeol feels his whole body move with it, drawn in by the golden boy in front of him. "It's not shocking. I'm allowed to like cute, nice, talented boys, aren't I?" 

Such an angel, such a clear personality, such warmth in everything he does. And he wants Chanyeol to go out with him? If this is a dream, the taller doesn't want to wake up anymore. He's decided that he'd live in this fantasy world with no questions asked. 

"You -- you can," Chanyeol's nodding because, yes, there is no other way to respond, not when everything feels like a hallucination and Baekhyun’s glimmering eyes are documenting his every move. "You can like whoever you want. And it's me?" 

Baekhyun laughs -- it's tiny, accompanied by a snort -- and it feels like a field of flowers has blossomed around him, cradling him from any worries of the past. The smaller's happiness is somehow consuming and healing at the same time, and Chanyeol thinks that it's the most fascinating feeling in the world, to be happy simply because Baekhyun is.

"It's you," his hands trail back up to Chanyeol's shoulders, and the taller lurches forward, hoping that his instincts are right, wishing that he will taste the honey that drips from Baekhyun's words soon. "So, do you want to go out sometime? Is that okay?" 

He nods so quickly that his neck hurts, and Baekhyun smiles back brightly enough that he actually feels lightheaded. Lack of air is nothing compared to Baekhyun's round cheeks, crescent eyes, lips that still shine with their kisses. 

This smile -- Chanyeol knows he will paint it, whether he likes the way it turns out or not. It doesn't matter. Nothing else matters besides the quirk of Baekhyun's lips as his smile finally falls, the slow breath he takes before they're meeting in the middle again, consumed in a kiss that makes Chanyeol boil from the inside out.

-- 

"You know, I'm not qualified for this, technically," Chanyeol's pouty, and he watches the smaller boy shrug his doubts away, a nimble hand reaching up to pinch his cheek. "I'm not an art teacher." 

Baekhyun's frowning now, eyebrows dangerously near his eyes, lips scrunched in a way that makes Chanyeol want to laugh. He looks ridiculous, so soft and annoyed, so endearing. But then he hears loud, high-pitched screaming and he's scared all over again. He can't do this.  

Baekhyun's leaning toward him, so close that his breath hitches, still unfamiliar with such intimacy, with the way Baekhyun so naturally leans forward to latch on to him. In his eyes, Baekhyun is still sunshine, still so dazzling, and the smaller knows it. 

Baekhyun completely disregards the way he sends Chanyeol scrambling for words with each smile that graces his lips, with each gentle touch of his hand, with each kiss that lingers between them.

He is confident and bright, and Chanyeol embraces it, even as he stutters to keep a grip on reality when Baekhyun is with him.

Warm breath ghosts over his cheek, moves to his nose, and closes on his chin, a tiny kiss left tingling against the line of his jaw. His lips are plush. Chanyeol feels like maybe his organs have melted. As Baekhyun pulls back with pink ears, his stomach lurches -- nerves or the smaller's loving proximity, he can't be sure. 

"Don't worry! You're overqualified," Baekhyun's smiling then, so attentive, so overwhelming, and Chanyeol wonders if there's rules against being this perfect. "You paint every day! They don't know how to even use the brushes -- I really don't think they'll judge you too harshly." 

Chanyeol makes a face, one that sends Baekhyun into a fit of little giggles, palms moving to signal the younger to stop, fingers wide and stationed mid-air.

"Yeol, they're four. They'll probably just love having someone new around them." 

He hopes he's right, so he nods along, too fearful to fight it much more. He truly does likes kids, but there's something scary about being in a room full of them -- about having their tiny, fragile lives in his hands. He doesn't know if he trusts himself to keep them safe from his gangly limbs and uncoordinated feet, to make them laugh instead of bursting into tears at the sight of him.

"They like new people, right?" Baekhyun's eyes soften at the anxiety lacing Chanyeol's words. "What if they're scared of me?" 

Suddenly, the school's hall feels tiny and cramped, the linoleum squeaking under the pressure of Chanyeol's pacing steps. 

"You won't scare them, hurt them, or upset them. You're a calming presence, even if you don't realize it. You're very fatherly, okay? Don't worry." 

Chanyeol blushes all the way to the tips of his ears, feeling praised and analyzed all at once. It's embarrassing to hear that from his (rather new) boyfriend, much less to hear it in the hallway of a preschool while he's having a mental breakdown over his intimidating build.  

He wants to question his so-called fatherly qualities, but then Baekhyun's unwavering hand is holding his, pulling him toward a door covered with drawings of holiday scenes and wrapped presents, all sloppy and confusing and adorable. 

There are mismatched colors and random stick figures in each, a jumbled mess of animals and shapes and crudely written letters. He thinks that there’s something adorable about the pure creativity that pools in each marker , in the carefree way they express themselves. Chanyeol finds himself wishing he could achieve what they already have, could regress back to a time when art was the purest thing in his heart, not a learned technique that makes him question each piece he creates.

"How cute," he muses, and Baekhyun turns to beam up at him with the warmth of a fallen star, with the comfort that settles in the folds of a worn-out comforter. It leaves Chanyeol feeling as though he's bathed in sunlight, wrapped in the warmth of the older’s arms. 

“They really are,” his smile never drops, and the door is pushed open to reveal tiny faces and whiny little voices. “You’ll love them.”

Chanyeol has never wanted to protect an entire room of people more than he does right now -- if Baekhyun is sunshine, they are the flowers that bloom at the first ray of light. The vibrant room is transformed by hurried voices and pudgy hands reaching for Baekhyun, nasal tones begging to be picked up and yelping when their friends push to get to their helper first. It’s evident that he’s adored in this school, that he is their sunshine too. Chanyeol doesn’t mind sharing. 

“How are you guys?” Baekhyun’s patting the heads swarming around his knees, voice calm and overly sweet. He stumbles back a little, elbow grazing Chanyeol’s stomach, and he turns to smile in apology. “Oops.” 

Chanyeol swallows hard at the curious looks he garners, at the way the kids cling to Baekhyun’s legs when they notice him in the doorway, stiff and scared and much taller than any of their other visitors.

 “Kids, kids,” Baekhyun’s hands float through the air as he calms down the crowd of toddlers forming around him. “I brought a visitor today. Teacher Jang said it was okay, so I brought someone to paint with us! Do you want to paint?” 

The words take a moment to sink in, but when they do, Chanyeol feels the entire group of children’s focus shift back to him, wide eyes observing him with a newfound wonder. 

“Painting!” the boy who speaks up has a tiny voice, and Chanyeol’s heart constricts at the way it cracks at the end, excited smile taking over his entire face. Then he’s moving forward, a tiny, warm hand wrapping around Chanyeol’s thumb. It’s a little sticky, but Chanyeol tries to not worry about it, focusing on the pout directed to him. “Who are you?” 

“I’m Park Chanyeol.” 

The hand squeezes his finger tighter, and he flushes red at just how cute it all is, at the way Baekhyun’s eyes are so intense right now, full of pride, devastatingly endearing.

“Excuse me, visitor, can you speak up?” Baekhyun’s voice is a little teasing, and Chanyeol wants to frown at him, but he can’t, not when he’s sparkling brighter than anything else in the world right now. “I’m sure my friends would love to hear your name again. You should tell them what you’re studying in school, too. They’re all excited to go to school, right?” 

An uproar of excited yells, a few negative noises, a giggling Baekhyun. Chanyeol isn't sure he's ever felt this wholeheartedly fond. 

He waves awkwardly with his free hand, feeling generally too big and too wide and too rough for this room and audience. At the same moment, Baekhyun brushes a curl out of a little girl’s face, earning a scrunched nose from her, and Chanyeol’s mind whirls at the way he reaches out for them so easily, so adoringly. 

“I'm Park Chanyeol,” there's a sneeze from the crowd, and Baekhyun’s voice is gentle when he whispers about using the crook of your elbow instead. “I'm studying fine arts at the same school as Baekhyun.”

Their faces remain blank, and he's scrambling to clarify, ignoring the amused smile on his boyfriend's face. Explain it like a child would, Baekhyun's gentle gaze seems to whisper, encouraging him. 

“I paint a lot,” he smiles his biggest smile, relief flowing through his veins at the interested noises he earns in return. “Painting is my job.”

“Are you any good at it?” 

Chanyeol stills at the bold question, looking at the tiny girl in front of him. Her pigtails are braided perfectly, clipped together with barrettes that match her baby blue tracksuit. She’s possibly the cutest child Chanyeol has ever laid eyes on, and she's looking at him with eyes that judge both his painting skills and his proximity to Baekhyun. 

“Yerin, that's not a kind question. Remember what we said about asking questions that make other people feel bad?” 

“I'm sorry,” her lip trembles as she mumbles the words out, and fear is set alight in Chanyeol’s chest. It hurts to watch her stiffen her upper lip and look at the ceiling, pains him to watch Baekhyun eye her worriedly, regret pooling in his eyes. 

“I'll paint a picture of anything you guys want, and you can all tell me if I'm good or not, okay?”

The rest of the kids squawk at the prospect, moving to circle the craft table nearby and eyeing Baekhyun expectantly. It's like clockwork -- the shorter man springs into action, opening drawers and offering Chanyeol a stain-ridden apron. 

“Yerin,” Chanyeol kneels down, hesitant when he sees the tears swimming in her eyes, the pout that she greets him with. He turns the apron in his hands over and over, unsure of how fragile this situation is, how sensitive children can be. “Thank you for apologizing. That was really nice.” 

The praise is enough to make her smile, even as a tear rolls down her cheek. She lets out a huff of air, obviously frustrated and still seeped in guilt. Chanyeol doesn't know how to handle her lingering sadness, and he's almost panicking, but then Baekhyun’s kneeling next to him, voice dripping honey. 

“Since you apologized so kindly, I think Mr. Chanyeol would like you to be his assistant today, right? He told me so earlier!”

The taller nods frantically, heart quickening when Yerin bursts into a shimmering smile, braids swinging around as she jumps up and down excitedly. She's happy again, tiny hand worming its way across Chanyeol’s palm and latching on with all the strength she possesses.

“Thank you,” Chanyeol is aware that he still sounds stressed, but all of his worries are fading from the simple fact that Baekhyun is here. “You're so good with them -- you saved me. I didn't know how to keep her from crying.”

Baekhyun only smiles back, shrugging toward the group of kids still staring at him, waiting for his next words. 

“I'd let you feed my ego some more, but they're expecting me to sing the craft station song." Baekhyun whispers it, throwing him a wink as he pulls his own apron over his head. So angelic, so charming -- so Baekhyun.

The taller trails behind him, entranced, and listens to Yerin's miniscule voice happily explaining where they should sit, whether their paintings should match, when snack time is. 

“Okay, friends, let's all become little artists!” 

--

It feels unreal to be this close to Baekhyun, to bask in the glow of his smile and voice as if it's the most natural thing for the pair to do. Their lips meet almost easily now, hands awkwardly fitting together on the bus, simmering nerves and overwhelming joy framing each moment.

It’s still hesitant and tender, both too scared to push farther than kissing and wandering hands, and it leaves Chanyeol feeling like a teenager again when he’s held against Baekhyun’s chest, when they spend nights screaming at each other over the way the pasta is going to burn, when they debate which Star Wars prologue is truly the worst and dissolve into laughter.

Only days ago, he'd longed to capture Baekhyun's image perfectly, had craved the ability to represent Baekhyun's brilliant existence on the canvas. And only days ago, Baekhyun had stopped his anxious heart and self doubt, had silenced him with soft lips and whispered confessions. 

It feels foreign to adjust to Baekhyun so quickly, to grow comfortable with his presence and habits, to wake up feeling as though he’s caught a falling star with his bare hands. It feels surreal to be sated with the tiniest kisses, to allow himself to chase after Baekhyun’s laughter like it’s the only thing that matters.

It’s all unfamiliar and thrilling, but Chanyeol doesn’t think he has ever felt this level of security, has ever known peace before Baekhyun held him. 

-- 

Dinner with his friends is just like it's always been -- loud, annoying, overwhelming. Chanyeol is trying his best to block out the crude conversation and zealous laughter that fills Kyungsoo's apartment, just like always.

Except this time, he's the center of every conversation, Jongin's raised voice and Sehun's unintelligible mouth-full-of-food comments focused on the way Baekhyun is resting against his side, the way they'd entered together with hands connected. 

"You're dating? As in, romantically?" Junmyeon's eyebrows threaten to join his hairline, and Chanyeol goes red at the sheer volume of Baekhyun's laugh from beside him, at the way Jongin eyes them both up and down.

“Are you really surprised?” Kyungsoo’s voice rings out monotonous from the far side of the kitchen, and Chanyeol can hear Sehun's stifled laugh, even through the bread crowding his mouth. “Chanyeol asked for his Instagram immediately after meeting him. He locked himself in his apartment and told me not to call because he was frustrated with a painting. It was painfully obvious.” 

“Oh,” Chanyeol feels his face heat up. “I guess it was.”

At this revelation, Sehun looks up from his pre-dinner carbs, shocked and vaguely hurt. He squints his eyes at the tallest boy suspiciously, pointed face even more angular with the sour look that consumes his features. 

“Is that why you didn't respond in the group chat for, like, three days? Because you were sulking?” Sehun’s voice is annoyed, biting, and the tallest wants to sink into the floor. 

"Wait, really?" Jongin joins in, voice whiny, and even Junmyeon spares him a judgmental side glance. Chanyeol shrinks under their gazes, fiddling with his napkin instead of responding to either, acutely aware of Baekhyun's eyes trailing to study him ever so softly.

“Why didn't you just tell us you had the hots for Baekhyun?” Sehun's voice is back to normal, all annoyance gone -- replaced with teasing, with mirth that fills his eyes and leaks into his smile.

As soon as the youngest's finished speaking, Baekhyun chokes on his drink and stiffens next to his boyfriend. He's coughing violently and rejecting Chanyeol’s hand as it moves to slap his back, head shaking and his lips pulling into an embarrassed smile, feigned confidence covering the blush creeping up his neck.

“I'm sorry, I just don't know how I feel about the phrase ‘have the hots for’ -- it's a little, uhm,” Baekhyun shrugs, rosy cheeks and ears evident in this dim light. Chanyeol wonders if he should think the other looks so pretty right now, if there's something wrong with him for being infatuated even as Baekhyun chokes on ice and sputters his words out, flustered. “It's a little weird.” 

“What's weirder is that you were just as annoying,” Kyungsoo’s voice is closer, and suddenly he's standing behind the group of boys crowded at his table, a large pot in the grasp of his oven mitts. “You purposefully said I was busy when Chanyeol messaged you. You just wanted to go on a date with him, didn't you? You didn't even ask me whether I was busy!”

Baekhyun stumbles over his breathing again, and this time he's truly mortified, cheeks blooming into a dangerous red and mouth falling open in betrayal. Chanyeol likes the way his eyes cut into Kyungsoo, thinks that the darkness that encompasses them is enticing.  

“Stop!” he whines pitifully, obviously embarrassed, regretting confiding in Kyungsoo at all.

Chanyeol takes a chance, letting one of his hands move to rest on the smaller's knee in what he hopes will be interpreted as a comforting gesture, squeezing lightly. Baekhyun jumps a little, eyes blown wide, before he's relaxing against the touch, offering a blistering smile back and brushing a lock of hair behind his scarlet-hued ears. 

"It's fine," Kyungsoo makes a little noise as he adjusts the pot in his hands. The youngest boys look at each other, eyes urging the other to help out, both too lazy, but both worried for Kyungsoo. "I didn't want to go on your date anyway. Actually, I'm glad you guys can stop whispering to me about each other."

Chanyeol bids farewell to the sunflower potholder in the middle of the table as the boiling stew is placed on top of it, steaming and fragrant. Jongin groans happily; Baekhyun calms his breathing from the earlier fit of coughing.

Everything is so embarrassing, so new, but Baekhyun's knee is warm against his hand, smile sweet as he spoons food into Chanyeol's bowl. 

"Here, my little artist," Baekhyun is back to being teasing and angelic all at once, voice confident once again. He has recovered, seemingly invigorated by Chanyeol's adoring stare and unwavering hold on his knee. "Eat up." 

Jongin fakes a vomiting noise, loud and aggravating, and Sehun spits his mouthful of stew across the table with a loud guffaw, leaving the entire group engulfed in chaos. Junmyeon's yelling something about cleaning it up, voice raised to an octave that Chanyeol dreads hearing. Kyungsoo disregards the choking noises from the two youngest boys, falling deadly silent as he hurries to fetch more napkins, panic and fatigue tainting his calm face. Junmyeon nags, and Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and deals with things silently, as always. 

The youngest boys are actually screeching now, evidently proud of themselves for everything they've caused, and Chanyeol knows that he should be overwhelmed and annoyed and kind of disgusted -- but Baekhyun is giggling beside him, his own delicate hand moving to rest on top of Chanyeol's, and he doesn't think he'd trade this moment for the world, chaos and all. 

--

Sometimes it can still be hard to capture the smaller's features, though Chanyeol thinks he's getting closer, if only because he's getting to know every side of his endearing personality from the outside in.

Instead of copying the harsh curve of his jawline and connecting it to crinkled, joyful eyes, he tries soft cheeks and drooped lips, tired and longing for Chanyeol to move closer under the moonlight. 

Baekhyun is sunshine -- he will always be. But Chanyeol has discovered that, when he wants to be, Baekhyun is so much more.

When he is drowsy and gentle and his voice rolls through Chanyeol's head like the waves, he is the moon -- glowing and effervescent. When he is laughing on Chanyeol's couch, surrounded by dark paintings and telling him stories about the kids, he is dazzling and fascinating, like the stars that twinkle across the night sky, like the moles that form constellations across his cheeks. 

He suits yellows and oranges and reds and stands out, oddly bright, uniquely vibrant among Chanyeol's cool tones, but he finds there is a sliver of Baekhyun in every color.

The Baekhyun that laughs in his face and tickles him with cold feet under the covers is a fiery red; the Baekhyun that insists on being the big spoon and stifles his yawns into Chanyeol's shoulder is the palest blue of the sky, filled with clouds and early morning dew. 

The Baekhyun that steals his sweaters and forces him out into the cold winter air despite his whines is the orange that coats the sky as the sun sets; the Baekhyun that refuses to take the subway back to his own apartment, crashing on the couch and singing along to old love songs as Chanyeol paints is lilac like the flowers that bloom outside on warmer days.

When he focuses not on the colors themselves but on the way Baekhyun embodies each, it becomes easier to paint the smaller like he so yearns to -- the colors don't limit him. The colors enhance the sides of Baekhyun that he hadn't known at first, the versions of Baekhyun that giggle against his neck and call him pet names with that teasing, content voice.

Painting Baekhyun is easy when he knows him like the back of his hand, muted yellow and royal blue and everything inbetween, all splayed out across the canvas of Chanyeol's heart. 

-- 

"We're spending Christmas Eve at your place, right?" Baekhyun's obviously busy on the other line, voice quieter than usual, almost out of breath. "Yes, honey, I know -- I'll help you move your cot in a minute, okay? Finish folding your blanket for me, please? Thank you."

Chanyeol's chest feels tight from hearing Baekhyun's voice raise an octave when he addresses the kids, all sugary sweet and caring. He loves the way Baekhyun is confident and silly and loud with him, adores the way he transforms into an angel in front of those children, as if they're too precious for him to exist in any other fashion. 

"Yeol, you there?" 

The voice against his ear wakes him from the momentary daydream he'd slipped into, leaving him dazedly looking around the crowded subway car and realizing that he's smiling like a complete fool. Baekhyun's voice has that effect on him, after all. 

"Yeah, sorry, I'm here," he hopes that he doesn't sound too out of it, that Baekhyun can't sense the way his next words make him smile and blush on instinct. "Christmas Eve at mine. I'll see you tomorrow. Tell the kids Mr. Chanyeol said hi!" 

--

Baekhyun's face softens incredibly when he looks past Chanyeol's outstretched arms and focuses on the painting propped up behind him on the easel. It's very obviously him, and the taller is clearly proud of it, of the way his eyelashes splay across his cheekbones, the way his lips are open in a tiny breath. 

"You painted me taking a nap? Should I be concerned?" his voice is joking and close to the edge of something more emotional, something that lights a fire in Chanyeol's stomach, something that makes the smaller glimmer in the doorway. "I'm joking, you know -- it's beautiful. It's so beautiful." 

Then he's setting down the sparkly gift bag he'd been holding and leaping toward the taller, arms winding around his neck and pulling him in for a quick kiss. He tastes like hot chocolate and cookies, like chilly december air and cinnamon. 

"You're not napping, really," Chanyeol kisses at his cheek, head spinning with too much Baekhyun to comprehend fully. "You're looking down at your class. You're watching me try to work the TV at your apartment. You're -- it's just you . The softest side of you, the one I can express in blues and purples." 

Baekhyun laughs against his lips, mouth open and warm and inviting. He Chanyeol's, teeth tugging on his bottom lip before he places another, tinier kiss on the bow of his lips. He is in control, lips moist and nose cold, and Chanyeol thinks this is enough -- he doesn't need a Christmas present, just Baekhyun's undivided attention, just the pride that comes from painting him like he'd dreamed. 

"You're so talented," the smaller rubs their noses together, making Chanyeol go completely red, making him still against the slender fingers holding his neck. "I'm going to be honest, okay?" 

Chanyeol nods, heart spiking, eyes focused on the gorgeous man in front of him. 

"I thought those first paintings were great, all those weeks ago. I thought they were beautiful and well-done and, honestly, I would've thought any one of them was a masterpiece," he smiles, radiant, and Chanyeol swoons even more. "But I know that this is the one you are proud of, so it's the best one. This is what you worked so hard for, and I love it. I adore it. I'll frame it. I'll look at it every day. I like it because you like it." 

Chanyeol can't think of anything to say besides I like you so much, so he doesn't, just lets himself dissolve into Baekhyun's lips once again, warm and sugary. The only thing sweeter than his lips is Baekhyun himself, tender and charming when he moves his fingers from their place on his neck to tug on his ears softly, jokingly, lovingly.

"Oh! Wait, wait," Baekhyun's pushing him back softly, eyes glowing with something hidden and burning, something that makes Chanyeol's pulse thrum with anticipation. "Let me get you your gift." 

He opens the bag with shaking hands, only slightly confused by the giant plant inside, by the tiny handprints that line the pot. It's only when he sees a familiar, adult-sized handprint that he stops his breathing completely, awestruck. 

"You got me a plant? And you and the kids put your handprints on the pot? That's adorable."

Baekhyun's lips quirk up, pleased at Chanyeol's quick recognition, nodding happily. His cheeks look unbelievably soft, and the taller gives them each a peck on impulse, affection running high. 

"I know you don't think that you can raise a plant, but I wanted you to try," he winks. Chanyeol feels as light as air. "Of course, I'll be over all the time -- I won't let it die. And the kids wanted to thank you for their painting lesson, so we customized the pot. You like it?" 

"I do! And I like you. An unbelievable amount." 

Baekhyun only laughs in response, blossoming warmth and glittering smiles overtaking everything else in Chanyeol's mind, just like the first time they'd met. 

"Merry Christmas, my little artist. I like you an uncomprehensible amount." 

And, maybe tonight, Chanyeol thinks he can match that teasing confidence, can meet Baekhyun's mouth easily and happily, carefree as the smaller always is. Maybe, for tonight, he can be a glimmer of sunshine in Baekhyun's life, too -- it's the least he can do to repay him. 

"Let's dance, my little muse." 

And Baekhyun plays his old love songs, the ones that leave Chanyeol feeling empty and whole at the same time, the ones that Baekhyun hums along to so sweetly against his ear. The cold of the winter can't touch him, not when he is wrapped in Baekhyun's warm hues and protected by the cool tones of his heart, their clumsy feet moving to a waltz across his living room floor.

--

Dating Baekhyun is a lot like watching Chanyeol's most treasured movie for the hundredth time. Familiar voices, familiar lines, familiar laughs, all memorized and stored in the back of his mind, his heart. It’s the jump of Chanyeol’s pulse at Baekhyun’s every move, despite having seen him in this very moment before.

No matter how well he knows what is coming, no matter how perfectly he can imagine the curve of Baekhyun’s lips as he smiles, it shocks him each time, reminds him of the reason this one is his favorite. 

Of course, each movie has its pitfalls, has the moments that leave the viewer feeling a little hollow, a little used. Sometimes, Baekhyun doesn’t like the way Chanyeol reacts to his stories and views, detests the way their voices mingle in the air as they argue. Sometimes, Chanyeol has to turn off the TV completely and breathe to silence the arguments flooding his mind. He lets Baekhyun leave, allows himself to sink into the couch and frown at the blankness in front of him. Sometimes, it feels like the end, a bitter taste left in his mouth, but then Baekhyun’s voice is soft on the other side of the door, eyes gentle with remorse. 

They sit together on the floor, knees touching as they eat the food spread out between them, and Chanyeol pieces his mind back together as he explains himself. He lessens Baekhyun’s frown as he apologizes for lashing out earlier, for the way he'd let Baekhyun's emotions grate against his. Baekhyun mimics it back, tenderness flooding his features, and things are okay.

The interlude is over, and the movie is playing once again, a familiar soundtrack strumming through both of their minds, leaving Chanyeol as wonderstruck as the first time he’d watched it. 

Maybe dating Baekhyun is like watching a movie, and maybe it leaves him gasping and crying and laughing every time. Maybe that’s what Chanyeol wants, after all. Nothing is more beautiful than the familiarity that trickles through each of Baekhyun’s movements and emotions, the way Chanyeol can watch his favorite scenes over and over with each melting touch of their lips, their hands. 

Dating Baekhyun is the gentle lull of the credits, the tender way Baekhyun burrows further into Chanyeol's chest and stays there, content. It's the ending, bittersweet, finished with the soft brush of lips against his own, with Baekhyun's voice uttering the same thing as always. 

"Goodnight, my little artist," a peck on his check, a hand on his bicep, warm as the sunlight that will inevitably wake them in the morning. "I like you an infinite amount." 

--

ho ho ho!!!!!!!!!! 

i hope you enjoyed this little fluffy holiday special!!! it was so fun to write omg! 

i love you all! hope your december was great, and i hope that this coming year will bring you happiness

🎄❤️

ao3: baekyall
twitter: baekyalls
other: curiouscat.me/baekyall