“Do you have any classes with Kisoo today?”

Chanyeol mumbles out a question, rearranging the freshly printed paperwork by the dining table. He’s in the middle of pulling a stack of papers out of the large brown envelope—bitterly tracing the Braille-transcribed words on the paper—when he hears Baekhyun’s soft laugh coming from the living room.

“I told you, his name is Jisoo.” His husband says, the smile in his voice pulling at Chanyeol’s heartstrings. “And no, I don’t have any classes with him today. Why did you ask?”

Chanyeol leaves the papers on the table, reminding himself to insert them back into the envelope once he’s done talking to his husband. He opts on walking to the living room, stretching his hands out as he joins the smaller man on the couch. “Oh, nothing. Just wondering.”

Baekhyun hums with a small smile, shifting as Chanyeol makes himself comfortable; hands sliding onto Baekhyun’s waist as he rests his chin on his husband’s shoulder. “Do you have any plans for today?”

“Well…” Chanyeol clears his throat, watching as Baekhyun traces his fingertip on the bulging circles of the small book. Sunday mornings with Baekhyun have always been pleasant. Despite not spending much time with his husband like he used to back then, Chanyeol couldn’t deny that he missed the feeling of Baekhyun in his embrace, basking in the tranquillity of a lazy morning.

Noticing the sudden silence and his unfinished sentence, Chanyeol supposes that Baekhyun senses the slight tension in the room as he puts his book down on the coffee table. He turns around in Chanyeol’s hold, snaking his arms around Chanyeol’s neck as he gently straddles his husband, sitting on his lap. “What is it?”

“Since you don’t have any classes and Jinah is on a day off, I was thinking that we could spend the whole day together, just the two of us.” Chanyeol says, absentmindedly caressing the sides of his husband’s waist. “We could go out, have lunch at that little restaurant you like. Or we could just stay in and order take-out.”

He flutters his eyes closed as Baekhyun’s fingers run through his hair, tracing down to his cheekbones as he presses his thumbs on Chanyeol’s thick eyebrows. Chanyeol shivers at his husband’s touch, each press of his fingertips burning his skin. Baekhyun’s hands roam to Chanyeol’s ears, curling his slender fingers around them before he erupts into a bright fit of laughter when he playfully pulls on Chanyeol’s earlobe.

Chanyeol chuckles, grinning as he grabs on his husband’s wandering hands. He sees Baekhyun’s smile once he opens his eyes, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his small husband’s awaiting lips. Baekhyun’s grip on his shoulders tightens as he slides his tongue into Chanyeol’s mouth, earning a sudden grunt from his husband.

“So,” Chanyeol mumbles in between kisses, “What do you think?”

“I think—” Baekhyun gasps out the last word as Chanyeol presses his lips down his neck. “I think staying at home sounds nice.”

“Great choice,” Chanyeol whispers as he smiles against Baekhyun’s pink lips, earning a startled laugh from the man as he wraps his legs around Chanyeol’s waist.

As they kiss, stumbling here and there, struggling to grab on doorknobs, Chanyeol no longer notices that the Braille-transcribed divorce papers have left forgotten on the dinner table.

Baekhyun inhales a gasp of breath once he pulls away, hands trembling as he clutches onto his husband. “You should really order that take-out.”

“I should,” Chanyeol says, pressing his small husband against the wall – his actions contradicting his own words. “Or should I just cook instead?”

Baekhyun tilts his head, seemingly pretending to make rash decisions before he nods, chewing on his bottom lip. Chanyeol is somehow thankful that his husband doesn’t get to see the way Chanyeol stares at his red bitten lips. “I don’t mind.”

—

Baekhyun thinks his mouth would hurt if he continues to grin ever so widely, lips stretched in joy as his tall husband holds him in his arms since the morning sun appeared. His mind tells him that he’s being pathetic, feeling so happy and contented each time Chanyeol mouthed at his skin because Baekhyun has been waiting for this moment for years. Chanyeol is possibly – hopefully – coming back to him and Baekhyun could feel the tears b at his eyes, so happy after waiting for what felt like ages to come.

This, Baekhyun thinks as Chanyeol laughs against Baekhyun’s grin while he carries him to the kitchen and places him on the kitchen counter with Baekhyun’s thighs still attached to his husband’s hips. This, he thinks; the absence of abrupt phone calls from work, no traces of Jinah, no frustrating silence. This was what he was waiting for. 

Perhaps, he hopes, Chanyeol has come to his senses. He imagines Chanyeol being surrounded by guilt, parting ways with his temporary pleasure with a mere goodbye, returning to his saddened blind husband’s embrace, each kiss translated into sorrowful apologies. As he hears Chanyeol beginning to cook for the two of them, Baekhyun imagines how their dysfunctional marriage would work once again – he imagines himself forgiving every single mistake Chanyeol left by the guestroom once Chanyeol kneels down.

Baekhyun hums as he listens to the sounds of knives on chop