Tuna Sandwiches

1.    Bread
2.    onions
3.    mayonnaise
4.    tuna
5.    chanyeol oppa’s love ♡
6.    baekhyunnie’s sincerity

    Chanyeol walked down the canned food aisle, pausing in front of the selection of canned tuna, heart wrenching a bit. He picks up a can, weighing it in his hand before putting it back on the shelf and drawing back with a heavy-hearted sigh; Baekhyun was always fond of tuna sandwiches. 

    “There’s gotta be just enough mayo in the sandwich; not too much, not too little, like love.

    Baek, a person can never have too much love, only too little.

    Whatever, Chan.”

    He makes his way over towards the check-out lanes, setting his groceries on the belt and digging for his wallet. He looks up to face the young cashier with his credit card in hand, stomach rumbling as he was reminded as to why he was there in the first place. Out of the corner of his eye, he spies a familiar head of brown hair and glances  over the shoulder of the cashier. He’s staring a little too long as the cashier has to snap him out of his trance for holding up the line. Embarrassed, Chanyeol quickly pays and gathers up his bags of groceries, stealing a look over his shoulder one last time to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.

    
    Chanyeol closes the front door with his foot as he makes his way into the kitchen. He pulls out a microwave dinner, popping it in the microwave as he pours himself a cup of soda; Baekhyun always considered him the master of multi-tasking. The microwave dings and he pulls out the plastic tray of food quickly, feeling the heat seeping through his fingers. He stares at the unnatural slop in their respective compartments: corn, mashed potatoes, and what should be steak. His subconscious is longing for one of Baekhyun’s home-cooked meals, spaghetti and meatballs being his favorite. 
    
    He grunts as he pulls a fork out of the drawer, facing his processed-food reality as he slumps onto the couch and turns the television on. Baekhyun’s favorite sit-com was on, but Chanyeol changes it to some documentary on truckers as it was to painful for him to watch Baekhyun’s beloved characters going through the same heartbreak he was going through.

    “Baek, I don’t understand why you love these stupid shows so much.

    What’s so stupid about these shows, Chan? They’re great.

    They’re just shows about twisted ideas of love. 

    What do you mean, Chan?

    I mean, like, these poor saps are getting their hearts stomped on, but still run back to whoever trashed them in the first place – it’s ridiculous, no one does that.”

    He scoops a spoonful of corn into his mouth, grimacing at the fact that it was still partially frozen, but continues to eat it anyway since he was too lazy to heat it up again. If Baekhyun was here, he would probably reheat it for him after five minutes of debating. He swallows the very unsatisfying bite and stares at his phone. It had not rung or dinged all day as it hadn’t all week, but Chanyeol reaches for it anyway, flipping through all old messages. This kills about ten minutes.
    
    Chanyeol sets his food in his lap, now cold and even more unappetizing, to flip through old pictures, feeling the sting of tears well up in the corner of his eyes. His thumb rests over Baekhyun’s number as he hesistates, knowing he shouldn’t call – he has every reason not to – but does so anyways.

    “Hello?” Baekhyun’s voice carries over. 

    Chanyeol freezes for a bit, choking on the air in his throat, “did you delete my number?”

    “What, no. Why would I do something petty like that?”

    “I don’t know, it seemed like something ing stupid you’d do.”

    “What the is wrong with you?” Baekhyun’s voice went up and octave, a sign that he was getting upset, a sign that Chanyeol knew all too well.

    “I should be asking you that,” Chanyeol said cooly, moving his tray of food to the coffee table before him before he could knock it to the floor.

    “I’m hanging up, I don’t have the patience for you anymore.”

    “Oh ho,” Chanyeol chortles, “I knew you ran out of patience for me when I caught you with another man in our bed!”

    “ you, Chanyeol, I’m through with you,” Baekhyun says, cooling the tone in his voice.

    “I don’t believe you, because if you truly were, you wouldn’t have picked up the phone.”

    “ you,” Baekhyun says, voice sounding small and a little hurt.

    “Not when you’re ing someone else,” Chanyeol retorts, but is answered with the dial tone and he throws his phone across the room where it hits the wall with a loud thud. It’s followed seconds later with a muffled, “what the ?” From his neighbor.

    What the . What the , indeed.

    The wind was blowing snow into Chanyeol’s face and instead of the cold, all he could think about was how winter was Baekhyun’s favorite season. How the boy always romanticized kisses in the middle of snow storms and cuddling in front of fires, but today all Chanyeol wanted the cold to do was freeze his heart over. It wasn’t going over so well for him.

    He makes his way over to Baekhyun’s favorite coffee shop where the boy had requested to meet with him. Reluctantly he had agreed, solely on the fact that he would get to see Baekhyun again, but the storm of negative emotions inside of him made him want to turn around and head home. But, you know, the heart never obeys the mind.

    He slips inside the warmth of the coffee shop and settles himself into their favorite booth. Baekhyun shows up not long afterwards, standing awkwardly at the end of the table.

    “You gonna sit or what?” Chanyeol says cooly, trying not to loose his temper in public. 

    “Depends,” Baekhyun says, pulling his scarf down from his mouth. He looked so small in his winter coat. 

    “Depends on what?”

    “How you take the news.”

    “Oh, .”

    Baekhyun paused, staring at the floor as he kicks his heel into the hardwood flooring. “I’m getting married.”

    Chanyeol’s heart stops and his eyesight blurs. The news hits him like a freight train, and here he was hoping to win Baekhyun back. “What?”

    “I’m getting married.”

    “Oh, please don’t tell me you’re getting married to that bag of a boyfriend you cheated on me with,” Chanyeol started to laugh at the irony in all of this. Months ago they were talking about their own engagement and wedding, picking destinations and color themes, but he guesses he can go home and throw out all those wedding magazines now. 

    “Yeah, I’m not gonna sit. I came here to tell you, because I wanted you to be a part of the wedding, but I don’t think this is going the way I wanted it to.”

    Chanyeol laughed out loud, feeling it rip through his stomach and out of his sternum, “holy , you have the balls to ask me to be a part of your wedding, with the guy you cheated on me with? Oh, my God, Baekhyun, I can’t believe I fell for someone as stupid as you.”

    “ you, I thought this would be the decent thing to do; to grow up and move on. I thought we could at least remain friends after all that we’ve been through.” Baekhyun’s cheeks were getting red and Chanyeol knew this meant he was getting upset. Months ago, he would’ve scooped the smaller man into his arms, but today he just wanted to smack him right across his rosy cheeks.

    “Well you too, because after all that we’ve been through, I just want to watch movies on the sofa and eat tuna sandwiches with you and grow old as we do so, but apparently that’s not enough for you.”

    “If you truly knew me and loved me, you’d know that and change.”

    “Baekhyun,” Chanyeol says as he rises to his feet, “it’s ing selfish to think that everyone has to change themselves to fit your needs.”

    Baekhyun stands before him, bottom lip between his teeth as he looks at him with guilt.

    “Maybe it’s a good thing we’re not together anymore; you weren’t good for me. Hopefully this man of yours is good enough for you.” Chanyeol brushes past Baekhyun, feeling his misery turn into a sense of freedom, letting go of everything that he was holding onto for Baekhyun. All those memories and potentials and futures that he wanted to have with Baekhyun when the other boy never considered his potentials and futures.
    
    “Why don’t you fight for me, Chanyeol?” Bleary-eyed Baekhyun calls out from behind him in the coffee shop where all the patrons and employees who have been trying to not in were now staring at the two.

    “Because I’ve made all my battles about you, it’s about time I fought battles for myself.” Chanyeol says before heading out into the cold towards the grocery store for ingredients to make a tuna sandwich. He didn’t want one because they were Baekhyun’s favorite, he wanted one just because he can ing have a tuna sandwich if he felt like it, and if he wanted to watch documentaries on deep sea animals, he could because he ing wanted to; if Baekhyun could feel like getting everything he ing wanted, then so could he.