Look away from the glaring errors!

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Bringing different people back home and into the bed he once shared with someone he loved– still loves really– has become an awful part of him. Some days it’s women and some days it’s men and he has lost track of how many partners he has had; it’s a awful habit he fails to break after the second time about a year ago.

“You need to leave.” He mutters the second he walks out of the bathroom, all in his glory after cleaning himself up. He stops by the door leading to his bedroom and stares at the outline of a slim body under his sheets.

He looks at the clock on the wall, just hanging above the guitar he hasn’t touched in years, and back to the stranger in his bed. Had he been the same person he was two and a half years ago, he’d ask her to stay because it’s almost midnight and safer and streets for a woman– anyone really– aren’t as safe as some people like to think.

But he’s not the same person and he has had his fill– the only thing left is to toss her out of his house because and like always, he has no desire for anything more.

“Hey, time to get up,” He calls as he walks over to the person, he sits on the edge of the bed and roughly pulls the covers off the lump, “You’re not staying over.” He doesn’t allow anyone else to stay over– it’s too intimate for him, which is ridiculous because he shares his bed with strangers, but them staying over is a step he’s not willing to take.

The woman in his bed stirs and rolls on her back, she blinks tiredly at him with a lazy satisfied smile on her face. “You’re cold,” She laughs breathily, her voice slow and there’s something y about the way she stretches and arches her back but he gazes at her with fixated indifference.

He thinks for a second that she’ll protest– he has had his fair search of complainers who never want to leave and he sometimes has to forcefully grab them by the arm and drag them out. It’s something he doesn’t want to start dealing with because he has work tomorrow and the last time he tried to drag a woman out– she’d dug her long nails into his forearm hard enough to leave prints for days on his skin.

She gets the hint when he narrows his eyes at her to let her know he’s not playing anymore and hasn’t been playing since he rolled off her. Chanyeol watches her large perky s for a moment when before looking away and getting off his bed.

He picks up her clothes that are scattered on the ground and tosses them at her. She blows out a huff and bats her eyelashes at him. “You’re a gentleman,” She sarcastically says before she starts snickering as she slips her legs through her underwear and winks at him, all shameless and still as flirty as she was a few hours back.

This is the kind of person he likes to have in his bed– people like her know this dance well. The same dance he’s so badly trying to imitate– he has got all the right steps. Almost.

“Don’t worry,” She says as he walks her out after they’re both done dressing, “I did you a favour and called myself a taxi.” She gives him a quick kiss on his lips with a promise of her calling him again later and she’s off walking across his veranda, down the very short flight of stairs and out the picket fence around his house to the silver taxi waiting just across the street.

He rips the sheets off his bed soon after he enters his bedroom, tosses the sheets in the washer in the washroom and stands in front of it with his arms crossed over his chest as he tries not to let his mind wander too far. He knows if he allows himself the luxury of letting it wander; he’ll ruin his whole night and the following week will automatically be .

When his phone goes off, he’s glad because it’s the exact distraction he needs to not think of the past. He stares down at it and frowns before sweeping right and brings it to his ear with a sigh. He spoke too soon. “Baekhyun,” He says drily and moves to leave the washroom– he walks through his corridor to the stairs and avoids looking at the pictures he still can’t seem to get rid of as he makes his way downstairs.

“Hey, Stranger.” The unamused voice comes from the other line, “You’ve been avoiding my calls, Chanyeol.” He can picture the frown on Baekhyun’s face and it’s oddly comforting.

“Been busy.” He answers curtly and almost feels bad for it because they’d been on better terms before things took a turn for the worst. It’s not Baekhyun’s fault but it’s easier to just be angry at someone you know, in the hopes that they can at least understand why.

“Don’t give me that bull,” Baekhyun snaps and there’s noise coming from his side before it’s goes silent again. “I don’t want to argue with you after so long,” He breaks in before Chanyeol can cut him off, “I’ll be back in a few days and I want to see you.”

It’s been a couple of months since he has seen Baekhyun in person– Chanyeol wonders if it’s his fault for keeping him at a distance. “Alright,” Chanyeol tells him and Baekhyun mumbles something he fails to comprehend, “Baekhyun?” He calls impatiently because it’s already late and he wants to sit in his living room and get some shuteye on his couch after watching whatever boring show is on his television.

“…didn’t think you’d pick up today or ever, honestly,” He tells him, his tone cautious and it’s something Chanyeol isn’t used to, “I get worried when you don’t answer my calls or texts, you know?” The guilt sneaks up into his chest and Chanyeol feels like such a bastard because Baekhyun has been through it all with him and has been his anchor for years.

“Kyungsoo.” He says and it’s the only name he needs to say to get the message across without having to explain himself.

“Has he contacted you?” Baekhyun asks after a moment of silence and Chanyeol feels caged at the question.

“No,” He scowls, he doesn’t want to feel vulnerable or show how much Kyungsoo being absent has ed up his life. He also doesn’t add that he hasn’t called him; he doesn’t have the backbone to do it. What is he going to say? They have nothing connecting them– they have no children that can force them to contact each other and all of Kyungsoo’s things are gone with him.

The feeling of dread fills his entire being in a matter of seconds– it’s a feeling he has become awfully familiar with for the past two years. Yearning for someone who has walked away from him– someone he knows deep inside him will never come back to him.

All because he made the mistake of being the silent sufferer and pretending everything was fine. The false happiness that Kyungsoo saw right through, he saw through most of Chanyeol’s bull, and all because he made the mistake of uttering the words we can always try again next time.

That had been the first mistake of many. 

“Acting like a isn’t going to bring him back.” Baekhyun says.

“Your exact words were; live a little, get laid and forget!” Chanyeol says in the most obnoxious tone and it’s all to try and get the heaviness he feels on his shoulders off. He settles on his couch, grabs his remote and turns on the television– he finds himself staring blankly at the bright screen as he absentmindedly plays with his hair strands.

“You know full well what you’re doing with yourself isn’t what I meant." Baekhyun snaps angrily. “Listen to me, , I care a great deal about you–,”

He interrupts, “Tell him I want to see him.” His breath hitches because that’s not what he planned to say– he mentally cusses himself out for slipping. He has Kyungsoo’s number and his thumb has been hovering over the name that he knows will forever be a part of him.

“You have his number.”

Do Kyungsoo.

The name had originally been registered as Kyungie Love and after everything, he’d changed it because it only felt appropriate. He hasn’t seen him in over two years and the last time he did was only a glimpse before he was lost in the crowded streets of Seoul.

It seems like a lifetime away and he hasn’t heard his voice in a while– he’s aware of the many videos of them on his old laptop and he’s positive there are plenty of them in his old hard drive. For a second he’s tempted to look for them– to see them, to see Kyungsoo’s face again and hear his voice because it has been far too long. He stops himself because he needs to move on.

But he hasn’t actively searched out for someone to have something serious with because Kyungsoo has his heart. The bitterness he’d felt the first days during their separation evaporated before it could turn into unwavering hatred and all he’s left with now is overwhelming longing and emptiness.

“He won’t pick up,” Chanyeol mumbles under his breath– the pang in his chest stings more and his shoulders sag.

“Take the ring off, Chanyeol.” Baekhyun says and it’s quiet again as Chanyeol opens and closes his mouth, trying to think of something but he stays silent because he has nothing intelligent to use as a retort. The ring on his finger suddenly feels as though it weighs a ton.

He keeps his eyes trained on the television, unseeing and finally, after a sharp exhale, he breathes out; “I just need some time.”  

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First chapters are always a pain in the and weird asdfghkl. Now that this out of my way, everything will be fine /at least that’s what I keep telling myself lmao.