This lonely house

Baekhyun and Junmyeon

This time, when Baekhyun calls Junmyeon, the phone goes to voice mail. Not that it ever does anything else lately, always, he just keeps some strange kind of hope hovering around his chest, beating powerless wings against the inner walls of his rib cage, and it keeps on struggling even as the days stretch on longer and longer, the nights darker and darker.

"Did you really want this baby?" Baekhyun asks his face in the mirror, hands tucked behind his back, far away from the soft swelling of his belly. It doesn't show much yet, he's only in his fourth month and yet he can never forget, the presence that follows him around wherever he goes.

It hadn't exactly been planned and yet there'd been an unspoken agreement of sorts, they'd stopped using condoms this year though they hadn't actually said they were trying for a baby, Baekhyun not quite sure enough of his feelings about the matter to ask, and Junmyeon too busy in the office lately, always, to notice the shadowing in the hollows of his cheeks, the puffing skin under his eyes. He texts the results to his husband after leaving the obstetrician's office, Junmyeon replying back with a friendly but brief That's great! Love you ♡ as though congratulating Baekhyun on winning a microwave from a magazine raffle.

Baekhyun doesn't push, because he doesn't even know what to say. He just goes along, sketching lines on the screen, a webcomic of people who say "I love you" face to face and hold hands as they take walks on lazy Saturdays.

When Sehun, his art school underclassman and friend, stops by to drop off a baby shower invitation, Yifan being due the next month, he looks at Baekhyun and frowns.

"Are you okay?" he asks. "You don't look very well for someone who's four months pregnant."

"I'm pregnant," Baekhyun shrugs, the scratchy fabric of his shirt irritating his tender stomach so that he rubs awkwardly at the dry skin with the back of one hand, barely noticing the veins standing out against the skin.

"That's not a reason," Sehun frowns. Baekyun takes the proffered invitation and excuses himself to the washroom, where he doesn't throw up, only leans his forehead against the cool porcelain of the bathtub.

I'm not sick, he thinks to himself, eyes closed, the strips of light from the florescent tube lights leaving neon green gashes through the dark, I just don't know anymore. After a while, he straightens himself and stands up, dabbing a drop of Penhaligon's Lily of the Valley on his wrists and behind his ears before stepping out of the bathroom. Sehun is already gone.

Junmyeon is sitting at him desk, smiling at the photo of Baekhyun on the lockscreen of his phone and organizing project files on his computer when the secretery rings in a visitor. He looks up to see Yixing, his university friend and fellow conspirator, if that's what you can call midnight coffee raids and contraband chocopies. Life isn't easy for medical and law students.

"Hi!" he says, grinning, flicking one last file into a folder before spinning in his chair to gesture Yixing to take a seat. "What's up?"

"Um," the usually articulate and direct Yixing is strangely vague today; Junmyeon looks at him in some concern.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes," Yixing is quick to reassure him, "we're all good and everything. It's just, when's the last time you actually spent time with Baekhyun?" There is an uncomfortable pause, as Junmyeon opens his mouth in mild annoyance to spit out a number before realizing, with a grimace as he sits back and slowly closes his mouth, that he has no idea.

"You don't know, do you?" Yixing says quietly, and Junmyeon has to nod, the sudden realization hitting him like a dull blow.

"Sehun called me this morning after he stopped by your house," Yixing continues, "he was heading out of the country on a short trip or he would have come himself. He said Baekhyun wasn't looking well."

"He's sick!" Junmyeon exclaims, bright panic staining his voice as he reaches for his phone. "Why didn't he tell me?"

"Wait!" Yixing says quickly, hand darting out to catch Junmyeon by the wrist. "It's not that he's sick exactly; he just looks...well he looks lonely and sad." He looks at Junmyeon closely as he says the painful words, as though checking to make sure his friend will be okay.

Junmyeon doesn't feel okay. He feels terrible. "I...I didn't mean to make him feel that way,"  he says, slumping forward to rest his head in his hands. "It's just gotten so busy now that I'm a head partner and I was trying to clear all the big cases so that I'd be able to take a big step back once the baby is born and..." The excuses seem weak and trivial even to his ears. How did I do this so wrong?

Yixing reaches out to ruffle his hair, exactly like he used to in the old university days, when Junmeyon was stressing out about exam results that he ended up acing anyway. "You can fix this," he says, smiling encouragingly. "I know you love Baekhyun a lot and you care about him very much." Junmyeon nods slowly. "You just need to make sure to spend time with him, not fall into bed after he's fallen asleep and haul yourself out of bed before he wakes up. Remind him that you're actually there for him."

"Thanks so much," Junmyeon says, and if his eyes are a little wet Yixing doesn't say anything. "I owe you ten." He stands up to give his friend a hug as he rises to leave.

"I'm just curious," Yixing says, turning back in the doorway. "What did you do when you found out Baehkyun was expecting?"

"Umm," and Junmyeon has to think for a few moments before he can remember, "he sent me the results from the obstetrician and I texted back that it was great? I think?"

Yixing stops walking and gives his friend an incredulous loook. "You sent him a text? That's all?"

"Well, we'd just started trying," Junmyeon says faintly. "I was expecting to hear good news."

"Junmyeon," Yixing says, "you are a class A nincompoop." He scowls as he left the room, the heavy door swinging shut behind him with a soft thump, even though his eyes are crinkling with incredulous laughter.

Baekhyun is just finishing off a tender kissing scene, the two high school sweethearts reunited by happy serendipity and enjoying their first kiss under the light of the moon, when he's interrupted by his phone buzzing. Junmyeon? Everyone else is on Do not Disturb. He saves his work and checks the message. Let's go out for supper today? I'll pick you up at 6 ♡

Baekhyun winces at the thought of supper. He isn't feeling so well, hasn't been for a while; the doctor has told him it's normal and just to take it easy but he really doesn't want to leave the house today. But Junmyeon asked. There's a sort of dull hope in his chest that maybe this will mark the start of something different. Maybe everything will make sense again, and I'll know why I'm pregnant.

So he finishes the last panel, sends the strip off to his editor, and takes a bath, spending extra time on his hair, which has been a bit limp and dry lately. He lets the conditioner sit in for ten extra minutes while he sits in the chilling water and pretends he doesn't feel nauseous. His skin is dry and he spreads lotion over his gently rounded belly, his fingers tentative. Baby, he thinks, trying out the words. My baby. He still isn't sure how he feels about it, but he pulls on a soft silk t-shirt and his favourite pants that he can still mostly get into, though they fit a little too snugly around the waist, but he hasn't really felt up to going to look for maternity clothes yet. He blow-dries his hair to glossy perfection, applies some eyeliner, winging the outer edges perfectly, and he almost feels like himself again. His stomach rolls as he walks towards the door when the doorbell rings, picking his coat up from the rack on his way out the door.

It's nice, seeing Junmyeon again properly; as Baekhyun melts into his warm hug he realizes that it has been far too long and he should have said something earlier. He smiles at his husband, and when his stomach gives a particularly strong lurch he hides the wince in a small laugh and slides into the passenger seat.

The restaurant is hushed, muted lighting in the form of ornate chandeliers hangs above each table, gentle piano music emanating from the pianist at the baby grand sitting on a slightly raised platform to one side of the dining room. It's lovely. Baekhyun isn't hungry at all.

He smiles at Junmyeon, at the server, at the menu, pointing vaguely at anything as he swallows and pretends the room isn't listing to one side, his mouth filling with saliva, knuckles white as he clutches at the table.

The food arrives, the mouth-warming smell of pasta alfredo and pasta pescatore and Junmyeon smiles at him, picking up his fork —

Baekhyun all of a sudden can't bear it any longer, rising from table in a mad scramble of hands and legs and tangled table cloth, the glass of alchohol-free wine tipping to flood his plate in a splash of burgundy as he runs for the restroom, Junmyeon's alarmed voice buzzing faintly in his ears. I'm so sorry.

He makes it to the toilet, throwing up the small contents of his stomach and then dry heaving until his arms tremble as he tries to hold himself up, eyes tearing and his head splitting with a massive headache. Part way through he becomes vaguely aware of someone holding him up gently and putting a calming hand on his forehead, whispering hushed reassurances in his ear. When Baekhyun finally stops, his body too tired to keep trying to void something that isn't there, he slumps back into Junmyeon's chest with a dry sob. He's too exhausted to cry.

"Baekhyun, I'm so sorry," Junmyeon murmurs in his ear, rocking him gently back and forth on the cold bathroom floor. "Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well?"

Baekhyun's voice is barely a rough whisper over the acid pain of his raw throat. "You finally had time," he says quietly. "I didn't want to ruin it."

Junmyeon's eyes are wet as he rests his face in Baehyun's hair, drawing a deep breath. "I'm so sorry," he says again. "I'm so sorry that I left you alone."

"It's okay," Baekhyun rasps, even though they both know it isn't. "I know you didn't mean it." His voice sounds sad. "It's just that sometimes...sometimes I don't even know. Why are we having this baby? Do you even want the baby? Is it something we did for the wrong reasons?" His voice trails out until the last words are barely audible. Junmyeon swallows, closes his eyes for a moment against the sudden twist in his heart.

"I'm so sorry that I made you doubt us," he says after pulling himself together. "Because I love you so much and I love our baby so so much too." Hesitantly, as though he isn't quite sure if he's allowed, he lets his hand slide down Baekhyun's waist to rest gently on the small roundness of his husband's belly. Baekhyun's chest flutters, hope blossoming into a flower.

They go straight to the Yixing's clinic after that; it's after hours and Yixing isn't an obstetrician but he's happy to diagnose Baekhyun with a 24-hour flu, to Junmyeon's great relief.

"Just make sure to rest and drink plenty of water and electrolytes," Yixing says, handing Junmyeon a heavy box of pedialyte. "Make an appointment to see your obstetrician in the morning."

Junmyeon nods as he helps a tired but reassured Baekhyun into the passenger seat. "I'm going to take tomorrow off from work," he says. "I need to spend some time at home." He smiles at Baekhyun, who sticks out his tongue despite the exhaustion his eyes. The tightness in Junmyeon's chest finally unwinds itself in relief.

We're going to be okay.

John Newman's Losing Sleep provided the title, section break text and infinite loop while I was writing.