Drum beats of nauseating pain thrum through Kyungsoo’s head as he groans himself awake. ‘Ugh.’ He makes a noise in the back of his throat, evaluating the disgusting taste in his mouth. The previous night’s events are long forgotten, wiped from his brain by intoxicating drink. All Kyungsoo knows is that he is still fully clothed, and that he did in fact go out with Baekhyun the night before. Where is he now?

Feeling the ache grip his body, he hauls himself from the bed, leaning just far enough to pluck the laptop from its shelf. Then, he plops back onto the bed and the screen blinks into life. Sometimes words do hurt, and Kyungsoo scoffs to himself for a moment. When he was little, his mother cradled his head to her chest and told him that “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” And Kyungsoo now finds this ironic, because she told him this to avoid bullies, but perhaps he should have used it to avoid himself. The paragraph on the screen is heart-wrenching, the utmost destruction painted in his own style. Somewhere in between it all, the scoff becomes a sob, and his head falls dejectedly into his hands as a tear rolls down his cheek.

For five minutes, Kyungsoo cries silently, head hurting too much to produce a sound. Just shivers and shaky breaths, shivering shoulders and trembling fingertips; a picture of desperation.

He is unexpectedly interrupted from his sobbing by the sound of the doorbell. And suddenly Kyungsoo feels increasingly ill. Who on earth could be at the door at this time? A glance at the clock tells him that it is already 11am. Questioningly, he peers in the direction of the door as though he could see straight through the walls and wood.

‘Hello?’ He calls down the corridor as he makes his way tentatively to the door.

‘Hi.’ The voice calls back, masculine but not deep. Not Baekhyun. He thinks he recognises the voice, but why on earth would Minseok be here at 11am on a Tuesday morning?

It is in fact Minseok standing before him, an amiable smile on his face and a brown paper bag in one hand (a take-away coffee cup in the other).

Of course, tear tracks like snail trails are easily noticed, and Minseok tilts his head inquisitively. ‘Are you okay, Kyungsoo?’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Kyungsoo waves it off, and indication that no further conversation is required.

‘Oh… Well, can I come in?’

Kyungsoo just steps back, allowing Minseok into the warmth of the house.

Minseok makes his way to the dining area, the route memorised from the last time he visited. ‘The coffee is for you, and I brought some chocolate chip cookies too.’

Kyungsoo stays silent, feeling the tension clutch his heart and squeeze.

Setting down the items on the table, he turns to Kyungsoo with the resident quirk in his eyebrow, but says nothing. Slowly, perhaps too slowly for Kyungsoo to handle, he draws out a chair and sits down.

The awkward tension hangs for a moment or two, and then, ‘Why are you here?’ Kyungsoo realises that he may have added a dash of aggression to his words, and softens his face as much as he can. Minseok ignores the violent weight to the question, as he knows that Kyungsoo is lacking control over his emotions. He pauses for a second and takes a breath, ‘I wanted to know what’s wrong with Baek.’

‘Something’s wrong with Baek?’ Of course, Kyungsoo fails to remember the details. Fails to remember the look on Baekhyun’s face when he stormed out.

Minseok sighs a little, ‘You were too drunk to remember anything… He came home last night and just collapsed on the couch crying his eyes out.’

‘Was it the alcohol?’

‘He had barely drunk anything.’ Minseok is clearly growing agitated with Kyungsoo’s sudden amnesia.

A second pause, longer. The two men stare levelly at each other, one curious and the other confused. Minseok knows that Kyungsoo is too timid to begin, so he does the honours himself, ‘Baek is fragile, you know. He might come across as confident and eccentric, but he’s kind of…’

‘Broken?’ Kyungsoo finishes.

‘Everybody is broken in some way. Nobody finishes life without being cracked a little. But… What I meant about Baek is…’ He trails off again, clearly lost in translating his thoughts into words. ‘He doesn’t fall often, but when he does, he falls hard.’

Is he trying to say that Baekhyun has fallen for me? A glimmer of hope warms Kyungsoo’s insides, but he says nothing and simply allows Minseok to continue. ‘He met this guy in college called–’

‘Park Chanyeol,’ Kyungsoo interrupts, urging him to hurry.

‘He told you about that?’

‘Yes, why?’

Another knowing smirk. Minseok feels that he makes this expression a lot these days. ‘You must be really special, Kyungsoo.’ The words are spoken slowly, with weight. It leaves Kyungsoo hanging on the edge, curious yet not really wanting to ask. It leaves him breathless, because perhaps this is it: perhaps there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

'Fancy telling me why you were crying?’ A swift change of subject from Minseok.

A question like a brick wall. Kyungsoo recoils as he remembers. ‘Just something I wrote,’ shaking his head dismissively.

‘Can I read it?’ Minseok asks. Kyungsoo debates protesting, but figures that he needs a shoulder to lean on. So he obediently brings the laptop to Minseok.

His eyebrows knit into a cocktail of concentration and concern while he reads. ‘Why did you feel like that?’ He inquires.

Kyungsoo shrugs, gazing off distantly as though wishing he were far away, ‘I saw myself in the mirror, and that I’ve lost weight. I looked ridiculous, and I didn’t like it.’

Minseok’s lips thin into a serious line, ‘Mirrors are just glass and you are more than that.’

The response is an incredulous scoff, as if to say, yeah, right.

‘Seriously. Ask Baekhyun.’ The smirk reappears.

Kyungsoo looks at the floor, trying to suppress the smile as the glimmer of light returns. Casually, the other watches his altered posture and speaks fondly. ‘When are you going to admit it?’

‘Admit what?’ Kyungsoo asks, nervous now. Has he been discovered?

‘You know what.’

‘Do I?’

A cookie is tossed in Kyungsoo’s direction, and he catches it rather inelegantly and fumbles to keep his grip.

‘You don’t need to admit it to Baekhyun. Or me, really. But at least admit it to yourself, Kyungsoo.’

The words are aimed at a man with a face that can say a thousand different things just through the eyes. And this time, they say what’s the point?

‘You’re nervous, I get that. But you’re blinded. The way Baekhyun looks at you is the kind of look that says, “I’m staring at the most interesting person in the whole entire world and I wish they were mine.”’

With no further a due, Minseok stands up, takes a cookie for himself from the brown bag and walks to the door. ‘I’ll see you later, alright? Cheer up, and stop by the shop soon.’

When he leaves, the tension lessons in the atmosphere, but tightens around Kyungsoo’s heart. Is this really happening?

For a moment he just stares, and then shakes his head. Of course Baekhyun doesn’t love him. Why on earth would he?

**

That same day, Baekhyun pays a visit to Kyungsoo’s home. This time, it is dark – night time – and just short of twenty four hours since they last spoke. He finds the front door open, after nobody answers, and at first he worries. Kyungsoo may be dead, for all he knows, and that is not something that he wishes to picture.

He finds Kyungsoo buried in the cushions of his bed, limbs spilling over the mattress while his back rises and falls in rhythm with his breath. A sigh of relief escapes him, as he realises that Kyungsoo is alright, that he is alive. For a moment, he leans against the doorway and watches. Shadows fill the lazy crook of Kyungsoo’s lip as he rolls his head to the side. And then, slurred and distorted but just audible enough, ‘Baekhyun,’ comes from those very lips. No, Kyungsoo is not yet awake, but Baekhyun has never felt more so. Wide eyes and open mouth paint the picture of surprise, and for five more seconds he listens intently, hoping to hear it again. He has never liked his name, because he always thought it sounded harsh on the tongue, but upon hearing it muttered in Kyungsoo’s sleep, it has suddenly become the most beautiful name in existence. But then he reminds himself that watching someone sleep is wrong, and he steps forward to intervene before Kyungsoo says something else. Gently, he nudges the boy until he wakes up.

The awakening is more violent than expected, as Kyungsoo sits up with fear in his eyes and a gasp all the air from his surroundings. After recognising Baekhyun, he takes a calmer breath, though it still shudders en route to his lungs.

‘Sorry,’ Baek mutters, feeling apologetic. Though, maybe half of the apology comes from guilt of listening to Kyungsoo’s dreams.

‘No, it wasn’t you. Bad dream.’ Kyungsoo rubs his head.

Bad dream? Baekhyun thinks. ‘Tell me about it.’

‘Well… Jongin was there… And he said he still loves me and… I just… Cracked.’ He chokes on the words a little, tears glistening over his eyeballs and he pauses for another breath, ‘And then, I cried and screamed and I hit him, and told him he doesn’t control me anymore. I told him that I want to move on. And he hugged me and I thrashed and I don’t quite know what he said because it was all just noise and then…I felt the car crash and everything was hazy and I swear I couldn’t breathe.’ His words are hurried, like he does not want to relive the dream at all, like he just wants to get this story over and done with. ‘And then… Yeah…’ He trails off. Baekhyun doesn’t quite understand where he comes into this, but he covers his confusion with concern.

‘I thought I told you to forget Jongin,’ Baek mutters.

‘You did. It’s not easy though, Baek,’ lips to fight off the anxiety, ‘I can’t remember my ing e-mail password but I can tell you exactly how many stairs there were up to Jongin’s college apartment.’

As he buries his face deep into his palms, Baekhyun watches sympathetically. He would touch Kyungsoo and rub his back like he usually does, but he feels that touching him this time might burn. Too many emotions can ignite a spark, and a spark can become a flame, and Baekhyun knows that fire burns.

‘I swear, I could sleep for a year,’ Kyungsoo says, sensing the discomfort in the air, sensing the off balance of the particles around them, sensing a strange tension from Baekhyun that he has not felt before. And strangely, Baekhyun lacks a response to the comment. ‘Hey,’ Kyungsoo brushes two fingers against his companion’s arm, and the trance is erased. Eyes meet, and for a static-electricity filled moment, there is a pause. A cough clears a path through Kyungsoo’s throat, and he fumbles for the words that he swears were present just a second ago.

‘Do you know what will clear your head?’ It’s Baekhyun that speaks, though, as it seems that the words Kyungsoo had are lost forever, somewhere in between the lines of poems he wrote for Jongin and drowned in vodka flushed down the public toilet at the bar.

‘What?’

‘A walk.’

‘It’s, like, 8pm. It’s dark.’ Kyungsoo seems concerned for Baekhyun’s mental health. Perhaps it is the glint in his eye as he speaks. Excited? Nervous? Will Kyungsoo ever know?

‘So?’ The smile is back, lighting his face and lifting his cheeks as he tugs Kyungsoo from the bed. ‘You already have clothes on. Grab a coat and let’s go.’

‘Seriously?’ Right there. Kyungsoo laughs, and Baekhyun wonders. How ever can someone’s smile be so perfect?

Five minutes later and they are out into the night, bundles of coats and scarves and woolly hats with legs poking out from beneath. The sky is dark, but their silhouettes are darker, embossed into the background against a map of constellations. Each fleck of silver lights reflect from the lenses of Kyungsoo’s eyes as he holds his face slightly upturned. Exposed to the cold, but he doesn’t mind. He only withdraws himself deeper into the confines of his padded outerwear, tightening the scarf comfortably around his neck. Both edges of his lips turn vaguely upwards as his eyes wander across the starry blanket and back again, considering the afterlife and the meaning of the life he is living. Wondering if this is all worth it, and if coincidence really can be so cruel. Contemplating existence itself, debating the laws of physics that were drilled into his mind as a schoolboy, and he thinks that perhaps nothing is real. Perhaps everything he sees is an illusion, a mirage created by the collision of his own mind and the matter in space. What he sees is not what Baekhyun sees, and what they see is different to what the rest of the world perceives.          

Suddenly, alien fingers snake into the gaps between his digits, and although there are gloves to separate the two of them, Kyungsoo air between his teeth as though he has been mortally wounded. Like breaking the surface of the water after being held down for much too long. The freezing air scalds his throat and his lungs, but in a good way. He feels alive. Peering down at Baekhyun’s hand as it is laced around his, he notes that Baek himself is refusing to look at Kyungsoo, a blush of innocence spreading faintly through his cheeks. Maybe it’s the cold, he reconsiders, because there is no way that Byun Baekhyun would blush for Do Kyungsoo.

'Where are going?’ Kyungsoo inquires, voice steadier than his legs feel.

‘Wherever we want,’ Baekhyun replies, and he feels much the same. A nod of content comes from the darker-haired boy as he turns his face back to the stars, feeling the cold nip slightly at the tip of his nose.

‘What are you thinking?’ Baekhyun says, voice only just crossing the line between a whisper and a murmur. Once again, Kyungsoo is enticed out of his shell for a mere thirty seconds, lost and dazed, caught between the stars in Baekhyun’s eyes and those that lie in the sky.

‘I’m thinking that we’re all so small and insignificant. There’s a whole universe out there that we can see, and neither of us will ever touch it. We won’t see half of the things that there are to see, and we won’t feel half of the things that there are to feel. We’re stuck in this city, caught in slow-moving traffic and halted by stop signs. But maybe that doesn’t matter, because there’s still a way to make something of yourself, right?’

A vague nod from his partner, ‘And even if you believe that you haven’t made anything of yourself, somebody else might believe that you are everything all at once.’

This time, when Kyungsoo’s heart hammers, it is not out of sadness, nor pain, nor is it out of excitement and nervousness. This time, it is because Baekhyun’s speech is slurred into oblivion, tainted with an obvious sadness that not even a theatre mask could cover. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘Maybe.’ Baekhyun knows that lying is no use. He would only feel worse for lying to his friend.

‘Tell me.’ Kyungsoo says tenderly, sincerely.

The hesitation is torture for them both; one has no idea what to say and the other is pained by anticipation. ‘I can’t,’ comes the final answer.

‘Why not?’

‘I just can’t, okay?’

‘Baekhyun, please–’

‘Fine!’ A slight snap, an octave too loud and Kyungsoo flinches, dragging his fingers away from Baekhyun and recoiling into himself. At first, for a split second, Baekhyun is horrified, because Kyungsoo seems like he wants to cry. He withdraws his gaze and looks at his feet as they walk in sync, ‘There’s somebody in my life… Who I care about a lot… And well. I think I love him… But I know that he will probably never love me back.’

A strange emotion drips into Kyungsoo’s veins. One part hope, because this could be what Minseok was talking about. One part heartbreak, because most likely it is the opposite. ‘Do you still love Chanyeol?’ He asks tentatively, desperate to say something – anything – to figure out who this man is.

‘No.’ Baekhyun seems amused by the suggestion. ‘I mean, yes. Kind of. Like you said, it’s hard to just forget. But that’s not who I was talking about. I’m finally moving on from him.’

Another pause. Kyungsoo hopes his second guess is not correct. Desperately so. ‘You like Minseok?’

The explosion of laughter forces Baekhyun to stop walking and double over, ‘No, you ing idiot!’

The shrieks of amusement are contagious, and within seconds Kyungsoo is also reduced to nothing. They both finish up on the pavement, shaking uncontrollably while they laugh.

‘Listen,’ Baekhyun eventually regains control over himself, ‘Minseok is my best friend. It would be weird. And he’s straight, anyway.’

‘Yeah, but, I thought that maybe that’s why he would never love you back.’

‘Nah,’ Baek waves it away, ‘And come on.’ He takes Kyungsoo’s hand again, interlacing their fingers for a second time again.

‘So. Tell me about him.’

‘Or I could leave you in suspense,’ Baekhyun giggles.

‘Baek, you have two friends, and I am one of them. Please tell me.’

The response comes in the form of a playful push. ‘How about I tell you more about my past, instead?’ And before the answer is spoken, he barrels straight into it, ‘I don’t remember exactly what I have told you about Chanyeol, but here goes. I first met him on the first day of law school. He was hard to miss, really. This giant, lanky kid with hair so frizzy it looks like it he’s been electrocuted. Smile as long as the ninety mile beach, showing all these white teeth and it’s just… He’s like a virus. If Park Chanyeol smiles, so does everybody else. The only problem with that is, if Park Chanyeol smiles, you fall in love with that smile. And then you’re screwed, because the virus infects you and it’s in your heart and your head and your soul and you never stop thinking about the goddamn smile on his face. And I never freaking confessed because that smile used to paralyse me. I used to get myself all worked up and ready to say it, I used to practice lines in the mirror like a script, and then stutter on the first word. He never knew.

‘So one day, I decided that I had to tell him. He came over to my flat that day, and I was one hundred per cent ready. I knew I was going to do it this time. And Chanyeol walked in, all smiles as per. Just as I was about to say it, he interrupted. Told me he got an interview in China and that he was moving, that we should celebrate. I was dragged out before I could say another word. Five hours later I cried my drunk to sleep and Chanyeol was already on the plane. Our goodbye wasn’t even a real one, and maybe that’s what hurt the most.’

Now it is Baekhyun’s face turned to the stars, pain clouding his eyes as he gulps. ‘Do you ever consider that perhaps saying goodbye would have been worse?’

Baekhyun shrugs, ‘Yeah, I guess.’

‘I never said goodbye either. In fact, I don’t even remember what my last words to Jongin were.’

‘That makes two of us.’ Baekhyun scoffs. It’s a dry punch of laughter, sounding more like dying than happiness.

All it takes is a lapse in judgement. A half second to become confident, just this once. It is the sadness in Baekhyun that draws it out of Kyungsoo tonight. He whirls Baekhyun around by his hand to face him, and wraps his arms tightly around the other. They have hugged before, of course, but not like this. Not with Kyungsoo’s nose nuzzling into the curve of Baekhyun’s neck, fighting through layers of scarf to reach him. Not so tightly.

‘I swear, Baekhyun. You never deserved to have your heart broken like that. I mean, I can see why you fear unrequited love now. But that never should have happened to you. I know that it is hard to forget, even after years, but I promise you that it will be okay.’ Each syllable is aspirated so that it all sounds rounded and perfect cascading from Kyungsoo’s lips. So soothing, like a sigh of relief. Like oxygen. Like medicine. And maybe it is medicine that Baekhyun has needed all along.

He pushes Kyungsoo away so that he can gaze upon the features of his handsome face. ‘I’m sorry, Kyungsoo. I should be the one comforting you.’

‘It’s okay.’ Shaking his head dismissively, ‘Everybody crumbles a little sometimes. Even you.’

‘I guess so.’ Baekhyun chuckles a little.

Kyungsoo’s hands are still clasping the cheeks of his companion’s face, framing the little smile there. He blinks a few times, committing the image to memory, keeping it there for reference. Baekhyun, it seems, is Kyungsoo’s medicine, because the beating of his heart slows and the tears in his eye sacs recede and a phantom smile crosses over his mouth. ‘Are you okay now?’

‘Yes.’ Baekhyun knocks Kyungsoo’s hands away from his face and they continue to walk. This time with a mutual aim for the local park. He only removed Kyungsoo’s delicate grasp because he was worried that he would collapse from a head rush and heart palpitations, and for once Kyungsoo is not paranoid about the reasons behind the actions.

Comfortable silence envelopes them now, a warm embrace to shut out the cold, a fortress to lock out the hurt. The more Kyungsoo thinks, the more he is sure of what he wants to say. So, after a minute or two, ‘Tell me, then. About the guy you like now.’

‘You’re a persistent little ,’ Baekhyun manages a small laugh, eyeing Kyungsoo from the side as crow’s feet crinkle into the skin around his eyes. He in air as though the oxygen will give him the words he needs, ‘My words probably won’t do him justice. He’s… Really special. I’ve never met anyone like him at all. He’s got this really soft skin and big, deep eyes that remind me of autumn. They look sort of sad a lot, but maybe that’s because his lips are always frowning. Well, not really frowning. More set in a permanent pout. The pout really suits him, though, it makes me want to kiss him a lot, actually. He looks like the kind of person I want to kiss all day. I don’t think he sees that in himself though. He fears the world, keeps to himself a lot. Sort of shy, but seems confident at the same… He is this wonderful mass of contradiction. All these little flaws he has… All the imperfections… They’re perfect, too. He’s a whirlwind. You can’t forget him no matter how much you try. He’ll never see that, though. I think he prefers to imagine that he’s invisible, but in reality he’s so, so, important. At least to me. I couldn’t live without him now.’

A quiet curiosity possesses Kyungsoo as he listens. Automatically, all of his muscles relax, and his lips push out into their natural pout as he inclines his head. ‘He sounds like quite a catch.’

‘Oh, he is,’ Baekhyun pauses as they stand in the centre of the park. Kyungsoo stops, too. The look they share is one of understanding, of knowing. Baekhyun understands that he has just confessed almost everything, spelling it out without really stating the obvious. Kyungsoo knows who Baekhyun was talking about.

Just then, as if by miracle, it begins to snow. Soft flakes of snow tumble from the black sky, kissing Kyungsoo’s cheeks and settling on Baekhyun’s nose, melting into their hair. Kyungsoo looks up again to smile, fending off the snow with his eyelashes. The picturesque model that he makes is too much for Baekhyun. God, he looks incredible. I think I need to…

A kiss can heal all wounds, especially when the lips are soft and plump and fit perfectly together. Kyungsoo feels the gap closing in his heart as the pressure of Baekhyun’s lips increases and their arms snake around one another’s bodies, clasping at coats and scarves and clinging to this. Clinging to this moment of purity when there is nothing else. Only the two of them, standing in the park in the middle of a flurry of white, like angels falling from heaven. Kyungsoo forgets the feeling of snow flakes, he forgets what the park looks like. He forgets Jongin’s name.

Baekhyun pulls away unexpectedly, leaving a pang of vague disappointment as Kyungsoo takes in a gulp of air. A second stretches to infinity, and while they look at each other, Baekhyun can’t stop himself before the words are already falling – before he is already falling and his heart his on his sleeve and:

            ‘Do Kyungsoo… I think I love you.’

a/n I was late updating again orz
I have had a lot of schoolwork, so I apologise. And this chapter is quite short, but I hope you like it! So there was finally a confession!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank the lord!!!!! And now we get to see what happens next. Dun dun dunnnnnn

ALSO DID YOU SEE THE MAMA AWARDS JFC SEHUN WHY
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