In the midst of trying to adapt to life without Kyungsoo (again), Chanyeol commits his second blunder. And, unfortunately, it’s fatal.

Chanyeol’s never had the habit of calling out to his family when he reaches home, partly because they’re always arriving home after he does, and partly because he doesn’t really care. But Kyungsoo has that habit, courtesy of having lived with the ever-so-polite Zhang family for six years, and he made sure that Chanyeol kept it up. It took him a couple of days, and several reminders from Kyungsoo via text and from Yixing who, when Chanyeol had forgotten to do so the first time, wondered how had Kyungsoo—Chanyeol—forgotten. The way Yixing’s seemingly sleepy-confused eyes had stared at Chanyeol effectively gave him a good scare, and Chanyeol’s rarely forgotten to call out ever since.

The habit was thus successfully inculcated in Chanyeol, always good-naturedly raising his voice to shout out a greeting the moment he steps into the Zhangs’ apartment after coming home from school; if someone was home, he’d get a greeting in return, and if there’s no one, Chanyeol would just shrug and traipse to Kyungsoo’s room. And it’s routine; after calling out, Chanyeol would lock the front door behind him, toe off his shoes, shuffle to his room, and before throwing himself onto the bed, he would gently place Kyungsoo’s worn-and-torn bag next to the messy study desk. (Kyungsoo always cleans it up when the tutoring sessions are being held there, only for Chanyeol to mess it up the very same night.)

With its owner not around to clean it up, Kyungsoo’s study desk is beyond messy. Chanyeol, obviously, doesn’t care, even if the mess is the first thing he always sees when he steps into Kyungsoo’s room. At least the room isn’t a pig sty; not that the Zhangs would allow it to be. Messy desk aside, today’s no exception; Chanyeol gently drops Kyungsoo’s bag at the foot of the study desk before propelling himself forward to land face-first onto Kyungsoo’s bed. He hears footsteps approaching, and a question mark immediately forms because huh no one answered me just now when I called out. Chanyeol doesn’t bothers himself about it, staying put in his position until he feels the bed dip and a familiar voice gently shatters the silence.

“You’re h–”

“Mm,” Chanyeol turns his head and replies, knowing exactly what Yixing would be saying. He has been hearing it for the past nine weeks after all. Chanyeol’s eyes are still shut, the darkness behind his eyelids far too comfortable for him to want to open them even though he wants to greet Yixing.

“–ome, Chanyeol.”

“Yeah, I’m hom–” Chanyeol’s eyes instantly fly open.

Wait. Did Yixing just say what Chanyeol heard him say? Did Yixing just call Chanyeol Chanyeol? And did I just answered as though I am Chanyeol…? (He is Chanyeol, oh my god.)

A resounding yes echoes incessantly in Chanyeol’s head. .

A litany of s (annoyingly) joins the echo of yes in Chanyeol’s head as he tries to wrap his mind around the situation. It’s bad. Horrible. Terrible. Horrendous. Inserts more synonyms of ‘bad’. Chanyeol has not thought of this situation. He hadn’t even thought of coming out (confessing would be more appropriate) to Yixing like this. Chanyeol had envisioned the coming out (confession) to happen after he’s returned to his body and sits his best friends down to tell them about this journey he’s had. He doesn’t expect them to believe him—expects them to put him in a mental hospital actually—but Chanyeol telling them about it would definitely help him to sleep better at night.

But this. This you’re home Chanyeol just threw his plan right out to space. Chanyeol’s pretty plan is never going to happen now. Baekhyun, Sehun, and Kris will hear about this tomorrow from Yixing once he gets it out of Chanyeol that he’s not Kyungsoo. Yixing is going to torture a confession (finally appropriateness) out of him. He’s going to tie Chanyeol up, dunk his head into the bathtub and fill it with water until Chanyeol is drowning and he has no choice but to confess that YES I’M CHANYEOL DON’T DROWN MEEEEE.

Okay, that’s ing nonsense. This is Yixing he’s talking about. Angelic Yixing. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. But he’s killed ants with a ing smile on his face, Chanyeol’s mind unhelpfully supplies. Ah . Yixing is probably more sadistic than he lets on. Chanyeol is going to die.

Okay, that’s ing rubbish too. That is his stress talking. That is Chanyeol’s—Kyungsoo’s—brain going into overdrive, working far too hard for someone who only uses it for school and life and not… this. It’s not prepared for ambushes, for Yixing’s you’re home Chanyeol. Ugh. Chanyeol truly, truly, truly has no idea what to do. Is he going to pretend that he’d been sleep-talking, or pretend to have heard wrongly, or just blatantly ignore his slip-up? Or should he finally come clean and admit that yeah, I’m Chanyeol.

Chanyeol’s extreme discomfort must be showing on his face, for he suddenly feels a finger gently rubbing circles at the spot between his now-furrowed brows. The action inexplicably relaxes Chanyeol, and his brows gradually no longer feel the need to be joined together. It’s only when he releases a breath does Chanyeol belatedly realise that his body has frozen. Arms ramrod straight by his sides, fingers curled tightly into sheets; legs stiff as sticks, toes pressed against one another painfully. Chanyeol hadn’t realised that his body had subconsciously reacted.

Also, Chanyeol still hasn’t come up with an answer as to what he ought to do now. Pretend? Confess? Ignore? What should he do? Chanyeol suddenly wishes Kyungsoo hadn’t cut off all contact with him; he could use his advice right about now.

Well, Chanyeol doesn’t have to worry his brain any longer. For Yixing makes his decision for him.

“I… know that you’re Chanyeol,” Yixing says. “And I’m not, um, angry if you think I am.” He cards a hand into Chanyeol’s hair, letting his nails gently scritch at Chanyeol’s—Kyungsoo’s?—scalp. “I know something beyond your control happened.”

That got Chanyeol’s attention. Ignoring his mind’s lament of the loss of comfort on his scalp, Chanyeol pulls his head out of Yixing’s reach and sits up. “What do you mean by that? Do you know what happened to Kyungsoo and I?”

The smirk that suddenly forms on Yixing’s face tells Chanyeol that he’s gone and done it. He just confessed that he isn’t Kyungsoo. Upon realising, Chanyeol stills, but shakes his head a moment later and resignedly sighs. “Well… Yeah, I’m Chanyeol. Sorry to keep it from you, Xing.” His eyes don’t dare to look upwards at Yixing, for fear of meeting with wrath and disgust and inserts more negative emotions despite Yixing saying that he’s “not angry”. Chanyeol knows better.

Yet, it seems that Yixing really isn’t angry. Yixing abruptly laughs, and even though it’s the same ol’ soft laughter that Chanyeol has had the fortune to hear one too many times during his nine weeks with the angelic boy, it fills the room. All Chanyeol hear is Yixing’s melodious laughter tinkling beside his ears—he briefly imagines chattering fairies flitting around his head—and he’s confused. Why is Yixing laughing? Shouldn’t he be mad instead? Is this the calm before the storm? The confusion snaps Chanyeol out of his guilty party for one and he tentatively lifts his head, flitting his eyes in Yixing’s direction warily. He in a breath sharply when he sees Yixing looking right back at him.

“You’re so cute,” Yixing coos, wheezing slightly because he’s trying to catch his breath after bursting out laughing. He pinches Chanyeol’s—Kyungsoo’s—cheeks lightly, giggling when Chanyeol flushes and tears his eyes away from Yixing’s. “And I don’t mean Soo’s appearance; I meant your personality, Chanyeol.”

“Thank you,” mumbles Chanyeol. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to interact with Yixing now that he’s no longer Kyungsoo. He’s Chanyeol now, and Chanyeol doesn’t know how to act around Yixing. Yixing who isn’t Chanyeol’s friend. He tries anyway. “You’re… cute too.” You’re an angel.

It’s becoming a commonality, Yixing’s soft laughter, as Yixing lets out yet another bout of it. He playfully taps the tip of Chanyeol’s nose before settling his hands on his lap. “Thank you.” He tilts his head, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Don’t you want to know how I found out that you’re not Soo?”

Chanyeol nods curtly. “I do,” He says quietly, eyes slowly making their way down to Yixing’s chin before going back up to Yixing’s eyes; Yixing is still looking at him. He’s adorable, the image of a fluffy sheep appearing in Chanyeol’s mind not helping at all, and Chanyeol promptly twists his fingers together, preventing them from doing dumb things such as cradling Yixing’s face as he coos at him. Nope, not going to happen. Nope.

Yixing’s smile only serves to increase his already-high score on Chanyeol’s adorable threshold, and Chanyeol swears that Yixing’s right dimple will be the death of him someday. “At first, I thought nothing of it. Your queer behaviour didn’t match up with Soo’s, but I attributed it to the fall and hard knock on the head,” Yixing begins to explain. “Then, I started to think deeper, started to analyse your every movement and word and suspicions began to arise and it resulted in a period of time where I really disliked myself because I was actually suspecting Kyungsoo—you, technically—my best friend.”

The smile slides off, the dimple vanishes. Chanyeol wants them to come back.

“Thankfully, that lasted only a couple of days and I got over it,” continues Yixing, a small smile returning to his face, albeit wistful. “My eyes cleared, and I began to see how you really didn’t behave like Soo. I won’t list the details but I know you get what I mean. There are just some things that you can never replicate fully.” The wistful smile suddenly brightens. “Like that first night all those weeks ago, when you came out of the bathroom looking downright horrified as though you’ve seen a ghost.” A soft laugh. “Right, Chanyeol?”

The lack of honorifics in Yixing’s calls of his name should have put a relieved smile on Chanyeol’s face, but the weight of the discussion that they’re having prevents it from happening. (Plus the fleeting thought that Yixing had noticed how panicky he was after ing with Kyungsoo’s .) Chanyeol realises then, just how much Yixing can tell from his actions, his words, his every move that he’s not Kyungsoo. Six years with Kyungsoo has resulted in Yixing’s attunement to Kyungsoo’s everything. It’s remarkable, touching, and simply wonderful. Kyungsoo ought to be glad that he has a friend like Yixing. Chanyeol wonders if his friend of six years has discovered that Chanyeol isn’t Chanyeol. It’s a thought, a thought that Yixing answers, as though he could read Chanyeol’s mind.

“Baekhyun knows, too. That your body doesn’t hold you, so to speak.”

Realisation fills his eyes, and as though Yixing could hear his unspoken question of really?, Yixing nods. “He’s… the one who came to me and brought up the absolutely crazy idea of our best friends having swapped bodies. And I made sure to tell him how incredibly insane he was by kicking him in the shin before running away.” A lilt abruptly appears in Yixing’s tone. “He made me treat him to ice cream after I believed him two days later; what a brat.”

The small smile on Yixing’s face effectively piques Chanyeol’s curiosity of what exactly happened between Baekhyun and Yixing, but he decides to not think about it (yet). Relief floods Chanyeol, courses through his blood, fills his heart with its warmth and overflows out of it. Baekhyun knows. Baekhyun knows. He’s just like Yixing, these years with Chanyeol have probably attuned him to Chanyeo