CHAPTER 7

“Good morning.”

Baekhyun blinks as he sits down at the dining hall table, staring across at the smiling tutee next to Yixing. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner have all involved Yixing alone throughout Baekhyun’s stay at Uijeongbu High, so the sudden change in arrangements makes him pause before settling in his usual spot.

“Hey,” Kris says, and Baekhyun responds with a dip of his head in an instinctive bow. He regains composure just as quickly though, and flattens his messy hair with clammy hands as he watches the drummer give him an amused smile at his awkward gesture.

“You’ve met Kris already, right?” Yixing asks. “He’s the new tutee I was talking about.”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun answers, hand lingering by his neck. “H-Hi.”

“How was it yesterday?” Kris asks, looking up from his salad. He scoots his chair in closer to the table as students walk behind him. “With Chanyeol, I mean.”

Baekhyun reddens at the mention but gives a sheepish nod he replies, “It went well.”

“Did he thank you?” Kris asks, chews slowing. When Baekhyun looks down at his cereal bowl and nods with the corners of his lips tugging into a small smile, he laughs. “I told you the guy has a heart.”

“Is Chanyeol a new friend of yours?” Yixing asks, spreading cream cheese on his bagel.

“… Class… mate,” Baekhyun hesitates before answering. Right as he does, however, his phone buzzes in his pocket with a message from an unknown sender.

Meet me at the emergency exit staircase during lunch, it reads, and Baekhyun stares in confusion. Then, another ping:

I’m not some creep, by the way. I just happened to get your number for uses like this when I took it from you the other day.

“Chanyeol?” Kris asks, peering at the number printed on Baekhyun’s screen.

Biting his lip, Baekhyun sends a hurried “Okay” before slipping the phone back into his pocket. Kris raises an eyebrow at him and Yixing is starting to blink in confusion so Baekhyun hurriedly stuffs his face with corn flakes.

The half of the day before lunch moves relatively quickly for Baekhyun who rushes through lecture notes and a two hour-long lab back-to-back. For Chanyeol though, the hours aren’t so fluid. In fact, he’s read Baekhyun’s one word reply just about a hundred times before lunch arrives, and by the time Baekhyun shows up, he’s clacking impatient heels into the white tiled floor.

“Took you long enough,” he says almost gruffly. Baekhyun closes the door behind him and apologizes.

“And what was that short reply anyway?” Chanyeol blurts, standing up. It’s only after he spits out the words that he realizes how childish he sounds. The other boy doesn’t argue with his temper however and sits down with another quiet apology.

“Does your hand feel better?” he asks, watching Chanyeol clear his throat and sit next to him.

The guitarist replies with a mumbled, “I guess,” as he plays with the tethered bandage around his wrist.

“You must have used the ice bath I told you about,” Baekhyun says. “It doesn’t look so swollen anymore.”

“Where did you learn how to do all that anyway?” the guitarist asks before he can stop himself.

Baekhyun taps his toes on the floor on beat as he replies, “I get hurt often, and when Yixing hyung sees my wounds he asks about them so I taught myself how to treat a few things. That way they look less painful and I don’t have to tell him why I got hurt.”

“He’s not even your real brother,” Chanyeol comments. “Isn’t it annoying to have people fuss over you like that?”

“Well, he isn’t, but he’s the closest to a brother I’ve had and I’m always thankful for him. Never annoyed,” Baekhyun says, smiling. “Anyway, why did you want to see me?”

Chanyeol hesitates for a moment, then rubs at the bend of his neck before answering, “I don’t know – I sent that text on a whim. Kind of wanted to see if you’d really come.”

 “Oh, I thought you were planning to check up on the assignments,” Baekhyun replies.

“I would have if I didn’t trust you with them. And honestly, I don’t really care about those,” Chanyeol admits.

“… Shouldn’t you?”

“Nevermind that. I’m basically letting you know that it doesn’t matter if you do a slop job on them. Aren’t you happy?”

Baekhyun gazes into Chanyeol’s eyes and blinks.

“Well since I’ve made sure that you’ll come when I ask you to, you can leave,” says the guitarist. “You probably didn’t even eat lunch yet, huh?”

“I’m not very hungry,” Baekhyun says, but gets up nonetheless. “I do have to go meet Yixing hyung before he starts wondering where I am, though.”

“Alright,” Chanyeol says, waving him off with his good hand. Baekhyun bids him goodbye and heads out the door with a small smile on his face.

When Baekhyun leaves, Chanyeol unwraps the bandage around his wrist and watches the fabric fall to the floor lifelessly. Who would’ve known ice baths were so effective? It occurs to him that Baekhyun must have had similar injuries for him to know about the treatment’s effects but it’s not until he runs his fingers over the bumps of his knuckles that he realizes there is something severely wrong about that observation.

His hunch is confirmed when he hears a loud clamor out in the hallway.

“Where is it?!”

Baekhyun shakes and falls limp under the sudden assault, breath catching in his throat when Sehun slams him against the wall without warning. He hadn’t walked ten steps when the troublemaker caught him by surprise and demanded the whereabouts of something he will not explicitly state.

“I-I don’t know,” he manages to stutter out with his limited breath, the back of his head bruising at the scalp. Sehun never realizes that he can shake an answer out of him just as easily without all the shoving and punching. Baekhyun cringes when the boy drives a fist into his abdomen.

“I know you have it – you do, don’t you?” Sehun presses, eyes red and mouth flying spit.

Baekhyun is about to let out another choked denial when the grip around his neck suddenly tightens before completely letting go. A blur passes by and when Baekhyun breathes in enough air, he hears it – thwack  – the sound of angry fists against clenched jaws.

“What the do you think you’re doing?!” a voice says – it’s Chanyeol’s. Baekhyun regains focus in his eyes and stares up at the seething guitarist who has one fist around Sehun’s collar and another balled by the boy’s head.

Without replying, Sehun grips Chanyeol’s hand hard and throws it off himself. The glare that he keeps fixed on the guitarist’s face as he spits on the floor makes all the nerves in Baekhyun’s body tingle with fear but Chanyeol isn’t afraid at all. In fact, he glares back with just as much threat in his eyes until Sehun turns to leave.

Baekhyun remains slouched against the wall with his hair sprawled against the lockers, static evident in his brown strands at the harsh rub from earlier. His breath evens out slowly and when Chanyeol faces him, Baekhyun looks down to hide his face.

“Is that what you meant?” he asks, still bristling with anger. “Is that what you meant by all those injuries you don’t want to explain? Are they his doing?”

Baekhyun doesn’t answer and tries instead to concentrate on keeping his legs from giving out under him.

“Why can’t you just fight back for once?!” Chanyeol yells, running a frustrated hand through his hair. But that’s as far as his outburst goes, because after he lets out a long breath, he helps Baekhyun off the wall and wraps the boy’s trembling arm around his shoulders.

“What the was wrong with that douchebag?” Sehun asks angrily, wiping away the fresh bead of sweat on his forehead. “Since when did he go back to playing knight? God, that was ing gross.”

Bouncing the ball niftily, he jumps up and flicks his wrist to land the basketball perfectly in the hoop. Chen only smirks in response as he retrieves the ball and dribbles it to the 3-pointer line.

“You know, he’s seriously weird, that Baekhyun kid. He’s like a goddamn baby,” Sehun huffs, blowing the hair out of his eyes. “Your stupid roommate always dotes over him and gives him lollipops and , like, isn’t that weird?”

Chen jumps up and shoots swiftly and with ease; 3-pointer on the first shot, no big deal.

“Say something, will you?” Sehun grumbles, nabbing the ball as it plummets to the ground and dribbling it back to the thick white line. It’s at times like these that he questions whether the older is a friend or foe; when Sehun needs him most, Chen lacks response.

“What is it that you want to hear?” Chen asks, jogging around his pivots and reaching for the ball as it hovers mid-dribble.

“I don’t know,” Sehun says, “Just say some , come on. You’re good at that.”

“That’s why I’m asking what it is that you expect to hear me say,” Chen replies, stealing the ball and taking a step back to carefully aim at the hoop.

“Do you even care?”

“Does it look like I do?” Chen replies simply. Swing, shoot. Sehun lets him jog back up to the net to fetch the ball but quickly intercepts before his hands close around the leather.

“Whatever,” he says, dribbling the ball under his legs, “Just give me a good round, okay? I need to release my frustration somewhere.”

Chen complies, saying “You keep score.” Then, he pounces and steals the ball in a heartbeat. “First to score three 3-pointers in a row wins.”

“Stop being so salty with me,” Sehun replies, balance staggering from Chen’s push. “This game will be over in no time if you set that as the bar.”

“Exactly,” Chen says, landing a perfect shoot with a smug look on his face before Sehun even regains his focus.  He beats the younger to the ball and bumps him away with his back in defense.

“You really wanna know what I think about Baekhyun, though?” he asks, dribbling the ball with bent knees. Sehun eyes it, gaze moving up and down, following the momentum of the orange against a green background.

“What?” the younger asks, lunging forward on one leg. Chen grins cheekily as he pivots and dribbles out of Sehun’s reach. The basketball team captain growls and claws at the ball again but Chen blocks him easily and turns the other way to shoot – perfectly aimed throw, even at the odd angle.

Sehun bounds away to chase the ball, and this time Chen lets him. The boy is always too serious when it comes to basketball, although it makes sense when reasoned because basketball is all that he really has to lean on.

“He’s gay,” Chen says with nonchalance, dropping the bomb once Sehun has his hands on the ball. The younger spins around with a dribble but halts abruptly.

“… What?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed and basketball frozen in his hands.

“I think he’s gay, that Baekhyun guy,” Chen replies, grabbing the ball from Sehun.

“What do you mean he’s gay?” Sehun asks, rooted in his spot. Chen takes a swing and makes yet another flawless 3-pointer.

“What else do you think I mean?” Chen replies with a smirk, giving Sehun a glance before bounding forward to retrieve the ball. “Baekhyun likes guys.”

“How do you know?” Sehun asks, frown deepening. His eyes aren’t focused on the ball anymore – they look straight at Chen.

“Some things, you just know, Sehun,” Chen replies, throwing the ball into Sehun’s chest. The younger blinks and manages to stop it right before it hits his stomach, lurching one step back at the sharply cushioned force.

He’s gay, Sehun repeats in his head, dribbling the ball absentmindedly.

Faint shadows lengthen over the darkening hues of Chanyeol’s secret hideout, blades of grass stretching in vertical dimension and basking in the orange backdrop of the sunset. Even the cicadas seem to have gone home, for there is no faint buzzing of their wings or even their telltale mating cries – mem, mem, mem – in the still air. Chanyeol plays soothing melodies that lull the day to a slow stop with the strings of his guitar, silently watching the rise and fall of the sleeping boy’s chest in the rhythm to his music.

“I wish I could hear more of your guitar playing,” Baekhyun had said before nodding off, mind and body exhausted. The guitarist recalls those quiet words as he scowls at the boy curled up in a ball on the jacket he’d laid out for him to sit on. A fat lie that was. He’s never seen someone sleep so soundly before.

He’d spoken to Yixing for the second time today, through the phone when he’d called Baekhyun to ask about his whereabouts. Chanyeol had answered just to keep the rings from waking the boy up and calmly explained that Baekhyun was assisting him with something.

“He’s never left the school campus alone before – will you please make sure he gets home safely?” he’d asked with evident concern in his voice. Instead of asking why a high school senior can't get home on his own, Chanyeol assured him that he would and slipped in his own request.

“Hey, and uh – look after Kris for me, will you?”

For some reason, the exchange leaves a humming in his left chest so satisfying that once his eyes fall back to Baekhyun sleeping tranquilly in the grass, he is motivated to pull out two blank note sheets. Without the strange hesitation that had used to hold him back before, he starts to write a song.

He’s composed the full thing by the time Baekhyun shuffles awake, hours long after their initial arrival during lunch. The boy quietly whimpers under his breath and scrunches his eyebrows as he is pulled back to consciousness, and Chanyeol’s hand pauses on the guitar strings as he blearily opens one eye.

“Hmn,” Baekhyun seems to mumble, frowning. When he registers his surroundings, both of Baekhyun’s eyes shoot open and he frantically smoothens down his hair as he bolts up.

“What time is it?” he asks, breath quickened and short.

“A bit past five,” Chanyeol answers, glancing up at Baekhyun, who now paces to and fro. He unravels his legs from his cross-legged position and stands up to hand the boy his phone.

“I missed class,” Baekhyun says nervously, biting down on his nails. “And the bus, probably – oh no, Yixing hyung must have –”

“He knows you’re with me,” Chanyeol interrupts, “he called earlier and I told him.”

Baekhyun groans and grips at his hair, eyes slanting in that distressed puppy look. “You should have woken me up…”

“Relax,” Chanyeol says, slipping his guitar into its case. He pulls the strap over one shoulder and carries his backpack on the other. “It’s just a couple of lectures and besides, you wouldn’t have been able to pay attention anyway.”

Chanyeol throws Baekhyun his backpack and the boy sags under its weight.

“Come on, let’s go,” the guitarist tells him, “I’ll take you home.”

“What?” Baekhyun asks in surprise. He stands there frozen, but quickly scrambles after him when Chanyeol has walked ahead a considerable distance. The guitarist glances down at him once as if in confirmation, and hoists his guitar up as he looks straight ahead again toward the school’s gates. Walking alongside him, Baekhyun tries not to look so flustered.

The bus ride seems a lot longer than usual. As Baekhyun hugs his backpack tightly in his lap, he glances at Chanyeol who sits across from him.

“Sorry…” he says, just loudly enough for the guitarist to hear. “For making you go through the trouble…”

“I have to take this bus home anyway,” Chanyeol replies, scrolling through something in his phone. “It’s not my usual route but it works.”

Baekhyun opens his mouth to ask further, but reconsiders at the sight of the guitarist concentrated on his screen. Bus slowing to a stop, a flood of passengers passes between them to exit the vehicle, and a new crowd shuffles in to take its place. Baekhyun stands to give up his seat to an approaching grandmother, but Chanyeol beats him to it. Grip on his backpack loosening, Baekhyun relaxes as he sits back down and allows a small smile. It’s a fleeting one though, because when he glances upward, Chanyeol is holding onto the rail to his right, and they both stiffen upon eye contact.

The guitarist turns away first, plugging grayed earbuds into his ears as the bus rocks into motion again. Biting down on his lip, Byun Baekhyun faces the window to watch the night fall around them, and before he knows it, his eyes fill with darkness as well.

Chanyeol finds it unusually difficult to fall asleep these days. Maybe it’s the humid summer air that keeps him awake, or maybe it’s the thoughts of the small boy that won’t leave his mind, but Chanyeol has been restless for the past couple of nights and it’s becoming irksome.
 

The bus ride had been simple enough. Baekhyun had nodded off to sleep and almost leaned his head against the stranger next to him, so Chanyeol had stepped in some. That was fine. Sure, it was none of his business, and yes, it was strange that his eyes would not stop moving back to Baekhyun and that sighs would not stop leaving his mouth, but that was okay. Cursing under his breath, Chanyeol had sat next to the boy and pushed his limp head back against the glass with a reluctant finger. That, too, had been fine.

The part that was not okay was the part in which his grandmother had greeted him as soon as they got off the bus, and how fine Chanyeol had been with allowing Baekhyun to introduce himself. It was almost as if they’d become…

His grandmother’s words repeat in his head.

“It’s nice that Chanyeollie has a friend who lives so close by.”

… friends.

Since when had he allowed Byun Baekhyun to get so close?

Chanyeol drapes his arm over his eyes to block the moonlight shining through the window and lets the sound of his grandmother’s soft snoring from the other room lull him to sleep. The more he thinks, the crazier his thoughts get.

Recently, those crazy thoughts have all been about Baekhyun.

  Author's Notes  

I hope you've had a warm holiday season so far! Hopefully I will be back with the new chapter soon.

--- serendipity-- (Heidi)