The hand becomes a constant on Baekhyun's waist. By early evening, it begins to feel as though Chanyeol's warm fingers wrapped around the curve of his stomach is natural in public -- as if that's how they're supposed to be. It's nice, especially when Sehun leaves to talk to someone and Chanyeol's hand doesn't budge. 

"What's going on between you two?" Baekhyun asks against the shell of Chanyeol's ear, low enough that others can't hear. It's a rather vague question to pose in a ballroom filled with at least a hundred people, but the taller has no issue figuring out the parties involved. 

"It's a long story," Chanyeol says, lips drawn and eyebrows straight. "Just don't talk to him." 

Baekhyun watches him from Chanyeol's side. Sehun is tall and charming and gorgeous, he has to admit, but there's something about the glint in his eye that makes Baekhyun believe his husband's words. Not that he wants to, not when he thinks about the secrets Chanyeol's keeping, about the possible lies he's fed him. 

"Why shouldn't I talk to him?" Baekhyun challenges because, honestly, he wants Chanyeol to open up, even if it's through anger.

The husband that looks at him through hooded eyes and peppers kisses down his neck is a different person than the husband in public, the one who glares at his cousin, the one whose hand trails away from Baekhyun's waist at the question.

He wants to see both sides of Chanyeol, wants to feel the same warmth from the taller's smile in every setting. He wants to know his husband, but it seems like too much to ask, he supposes. 

Baekhyun tries not to let the absence of the hand affect his defiant gaze, tries to avoid letting it dim any fire in his eyes.

"He's not a good person. He never comes to events I'm present at -- he's only here to toy around with you --" 

"Toy around with me?" Baekhyun feels heat rising to his cheeks. Suddenly he's mad, and maybe it's because of the way Chanyeol's hand is completely gone from him, from the way Chanyeol is glaring at him like it's his fault. As if Baekhyun had made the choice to come here, to marry him, to entice his cousin -- as if he'd planned it.

"Baekhyun." 

Chanyeol's voice is stern and a little angry, but it doesn't move Baekhyun, not when he thinks about the fact that he doesn't even ing know his husband. He's in a foreign country, married to a royal, and he doesn't know him. 

"You're the one toying around with me, and you know it," Baekhyun bites the inside of his cheek before resuming, "Being married to someone I don't know is scary, and I'm glad we chose to be friends, but only knowing half of you is worse. I've told you all about Seoul, about my favorite things, about the places I used to go in the summer, about the business that I'll inherit -- and the entire time, you've been silent." 

Chanyeol's face darkens. He suddenly doesn't look like young, soft Chanyeol. He doesn't look like the man who runs fingers through Baekhyun's hair and sleeps with the window open because he loves the way birds sound. 

"I don't have interesting childhood memories or dreams. I like hearing you talk about it. Is that not allowed?" 

"Friendship is a two-way street. Marriage is a two-way street, Chanyeol."

Baekhyun looks away to stare out the window at the setting sun. He's being dramatic and he knows it, but something about the way Chanyeol had insinuated Sehun's intentions and Baekhyun's acceptance, the way he'd looked at him with such anger, it had set him off. 

"I know that it's a two-way street, I'm trying -- you don't even know how hard it is to make sure that you're okay while I'm working, to keep you safe from any reporters trying to get into the palace, to keep my ing cousin from eating you alive --" 

"You're right, I don't know how hard it is. Because you never tell me anything," waves crash in Baekhyun's stomach. "I just want you to trust me with something." 

The air goes tense around them, and suddenly Baekhyun is aware of the looks they're receiving from Yixing and Jongdae, perplexed and a little worried. They're too far away to have heard the couple's quiet dispute, but it's enough to make the shorter feel embarrassed. His first function as Chanyeol's husband and they're arguing in public -- not a good track record, he chides himself. 

Chanyeol is deathly silent; Baekhyun is too scared to see the look on his face. He knows if the taller seems hurt, he'll regret lashing out. And if he's met with Chanyeol's cold glare, he's positive he'll only get angry once again.  

Until this evening, Baekhyun had only seen him use that glare on others -- it's the face Chanyeol puts on when he's being firm, when he's faking dominance around a crowd of people -- and Baekhyun hates it. Hates the way it makes his forehead crinkle, the way he looks older and angrier and sadder, hates that he's the reason it's come out this time. 

Before he can force himself to look at his husband, though, there's a distraction. The song changes to something loud and fast and upbeat -- and there's a now-familiar face close to his in less than a second, Minseok's eyes bright and clear. 

"Baekhyun, do you want to dance with my sister? She normally dances with Chanyeol, but she said that you're prettier." 

Said man doesn't have much of a choice, not when there's a little girl tugging at his wrist with small, soft hands. She's adorable, Baekhyun thinks, and his mind flashes to the image of Chanyeol twirling her around on the dance floor. It warms him, despite the residual anger, despite the way Chanyeol's words had cut through him moments before. 

"Of course, I'd love to dance with a princess," Baekhyun says it in a silly voice, noticing the way the little girl, Minseok, and Chanyeol all laugh at it. 

He lets himself get dragged to the center of the dance floor and tries his best to keep up with the dance -- without Sehun or Joohyun here to lead, it's a bit harder, especially with a six year old standing on his feet. When it's over and she plants a small kiss on his cheek, he acts shy and kisses the top of her hand like a true gentleman. 

The song changes again, but this time it's something familiar, something that Baekhyun had heard playing during the signing of their papers. It's soft and sweet, piano melted together with the occasional cello, like floating on a cloud.

"Oh, it's Chanyeol's song!" the little girl squeals as she runs off in search of the tall man.

The song slows down, as if going in slow motion, and only picks up again when the click-clack of the child's dress shoes can be heard making their way toward Baekhyun. He's frozen in place when she returns with his husband, smiling and hopping the entire way, poofy sky blue dress leaping with her. The whole room had paused for his arrival with bated breath and a sedate melody.

Chanyeol takes his hand softly and starts moving them to the center of the room. Baekhyun feels something in the way Chanyeol's looking at him, a hint of hurt, and Baekhyun's fears are confirmed: he'd made Chanyeol more sad than angry, and it's awful.

When they're finally in the middle, Baekhyun notices that the sun is finally setting, that there's a lilac tint over Chanyeol's features, that the marble floor is glimmering -- there must be amethyst imbedded, Baekhyun thinks, but then Chanyeol is leading him and he can't focus. 

It's a familiar dance for Baekhyun -- a waltz -- and he's confused. 

"Why are we dancing a waltz? There's been no ballroom dances all night," Baekhyun whispers. Chanyeol pulls him closer, like they had never quarreled, like Baekhyun's voice was the breaking point of his self control.

"It's my song," Chanyeol mumbles against his hair. "Every royal receives a song as a gift when they're born -- a melody created by the king for them." 

Baekhyun thinks that's a beautiful idea, especially when he connects the piano's chords to Chanyeol, when he focuses only on the way his husband is so close to him. It makes his anger dissipate and, god, he should be angry, but there's something about the way Chanyeol had looked wounded, the way he'd pulled him close immediately, that makes him pause. 

"It's lovely," Baekhyun says honestly, voice thick with some emotion he can't decipher. 

"It means that only my partner and I are dancing." At Chanyeol's words, Baekhyun takes a quick look around, noting that, yes, they're the only ones on the floor. There's so many people watching them. "Since we're at my palace, it also means it's the last dance of the night." 

Baekhyun stays quiet for the remainder of the song. The cello and Chanyeol's breathing mix together, lulling him into a trance, and all he can think about is the way Chanyeol looks doused in purple light, piano twinkling in the background, all harshness in his eyes melted away. 

--

That night is quiet, like the snores that slip out when Chanyeol is extremely tired. The tranquility of the night, though, doesn't entrance Baekhyun -- at least not the way Chanyeol's noises do. Instead, it leaves him laying awake, unable to sleep no matter how many times he counts the moles on Chanyeol's arm (the only thing he can make out in the dark).

"Baekhyun, are you awake?" 

It scares him, since he'd thought Chanyeol was asleep, quiet and calm like always.

They'd come back to their room after the ball in somewhat of a daze. Baekhyun had showered and immediately curled up in bed, exhausted, confused about the way he'd snapped at the taller earlier, about the way Sehun had squeezed his hand goodnight.

But Chanyeol had shut off the lights for Baekhyun and left again, headed toward the ballroom, making sure all of the guests were headed home before he'd showered. Nearly an hour later, he took his spot next to the shorter silently, as if not to disturb him, breaths evening out in the dark room within minutes. Not even enough, Baekhyun realizes, when Chanyeol speaks.

"I'm awake." 

"My favorite color is blue -- cobalt blue. And I like dogs a lot, especially the tiny ones. My first word was --" 

"Chanyeol, you don't have to do this," Baekhyun feels guilty for the things he'd said, for the way he'd accused Chanyeol of toying with him. He just wants to sleep, wants to forget the way Chanyeol had looked when he was angry, wants things to be normal. Well, as normal as they could be. 

"-- spoon. I broke my nose when I was eight because --" 

"We don't know each other, and that's okay," his voice is soft, laced with regret. "I thought that telling you about myself would help me adjust to being here. You don't need to do this, really. You don't need to trust me yet. I was just being an ." 

" -- I fell out of a tree. My mom died when I was five." 

Baekhyun stills, too scared to make a sound or movement. He'd poked and prodded and now Chanyeol was divulging things that he was obviously uncomfortable with, was pushing himself because he was foolish at some party. 

"I'm sorry, Chanyeol."

It's all he can say, and he watches as Chanyeol's arm tenses up, obviously uncomfortable. 

"I mean, I have a stepmom. She's nice. But she's not my mom," Chanyeol shrugs and Baekhyun feels it through the bed. "My favorite country to visit is Greece. I'm pretty good at archery. The longest I've ever gone without sleeping is almost 40 hours -- I know, impressive." 

Baekhyun wonders how he can be so nonchalant about that, but he doesn't question it, not when Chanyeol finally goes quiet and scoots toward him. The advances aren't ual, they don't have something burning underneath the surface -- when he places a hand on Baekhyun's hip it's gentle and caring. Baekhyun leans into it, letting himself nestle into Chanyeol's broad chest, eyes closing against the heartbeat. 

It's quiet again, serene, and Baekhyun feels Chanyeol's fingers thrum a soft beat on his back. It's easily recognizable as the song that played during their dance -- Chanyeol's song -- and Baekhyun thinks the music might translate to something like I trust you.

They've never cuddled before, not unless something intimate happened immediately before. This is uncharted territory -- sharing secrets and body heat with no involved. It's not much, but Baekhyun lets himself hope a little, lets himself fall asleep with Chanyeol's warmth around him. 

--

The air in the palace is stale -- no windows are open. It confuses Baekhyun, since he'd woken up alone to silence instead of birds chirping and Chanyeol padding around in the bathroom. Something is off, but he can't place it -- that is, until he makes his way down to breakfast. 

The man is older, near retirement age, and wearing more gold on his fingers than Baekhyun thinks he's ever seen in his life -- and that's a lot. Even Chanyeol looks nervous as he sips his soup, eye twitching slightly despite his smile.

There's a moment of confusion before Baekhyun connects that that's the king sitting at their table, that Chanyeol had been called early to host the man, that Baekhyun is in pajamas. 

Amusement flickers in Chanyeol's eyes for a split second and then it's replaced with panic. It's too late now, the shorter thinks, hands shaking out of nervousness. Baekhyun finishes his entrance to the room, beelining for the chair across from Chanyeol -- far from the king, since he's seated at the head of the table, as he rightfully should be. 

"Nice to meet you, your majesty," Baekhyun says immediately, entire upper body going parallel to the ground in a bow. He's shaking and he knows it; he hopes the king is a kind man, that he won't point out the sweat beading on his forehead or forming on his back. 

"Byun Baekhyun, pleased to meet your acquaintence," he replies, voice gravelly with age and cigars. "Your husband and I were just discussing the formal nuptials for our newest couple. We were thinking two months time, yes?" 

Chanyeol nods vehemently to the king, as if there's no choice, even if he wanted a different date. Baekhyun knows that he has no part in this decision -- neither does Chanyeol, really -- and he nods, making a show to prove that he considered and accepted the idea graciously. 

"I was in contact with some of the royal photographers, and they think that this morning would be perfect weather for some engagement photos. You're married, but to the people of our country, nothing is official without the televised wedding -- at this point, they still consider him your fiance. They're all anxious to see your groom's face, to see the two of you together. I'm sure you're excited for the good publicity, after all." 

Baekhyun notices something lingering in the last sentence, the way the king had casually insulted Chanyeol, as if he had a bad reputation. Baekhyun knows this isn't true -- at least, not on Chanyeol's wikipedia page -- but he can't say anything, not to the king, not when he's sitting in pajamas like some sort of village idiot. 

"This morning is a great plan, I'm sure," Chanyeol's voice is forced. "Baekhyun and I would be grateful to have the photographers come." 

Baekhyun nibbles some of the food on his plate and downs three cups of tea in an anxiety-ridden bout of thirst before the king finally leaves. There's a lot of words left unspoken that morning, questions lingering in the air, but they both ignore it and figure out what outfits to wear for their photos.

Chanyeol has a white sweater on, gold watch glittering next to the simplicity of his top. Baekhyun's wearing a bright blue sweater to go with the cozy theme -- the color is not because it's Chanyeol's favorite, he convinces himself -- and he actually does his hair so that it falls over his eyes the way it should, the way that Chanyeol liked that night at the club. 

Chanyeol produces rings that Baekhyun didn't even know existed, but Chanyeol had bought them in Seoul, apparently, days before he'd met Baekhyun that night and the following morning. He'd never given the ring to Baekhyun since it felt wrong after their friend discusion, but with the photos, it was a done deal, he supposed. 

Baekhyun wonders why the weight on his left ring finger leaves such a weight on his heart, as if the significance of his and Chanyeol's relationship is finally settling in. 

It's awkward to hold hands when there's a camera following their every movement, and it's even worse when Baekhyun realizes how much he likes the warmth of Chanyeol's palm against his. Even if it's forced, it's nice, and he hides the satisfaction in his smile every time Chanyeol leans closer unconsciously. Sometimes they have to pose and it's awful and they laugh immediately afterward, bending over in giggles and pushing each other like teenagers. 

It feels realer than a lot of things, Baekhyun realizes, and he pulls Chanyeol down for a chaste kiss mid-photoshoot, earning a surprised gasp from both his husband and the photographer. Then he turns away and laughs again, if only to get the nerves out of his system again. 

Chanyeol's hand finds it way around his waist again, like it had so many times before, but this time Baekhyun can feel the ring against the curve of his abdomen, can hear Chanyeol's giggly breaths in his ear. 

"We're going to look ugly," Chanyeol says with a smile, as if it's a good thing. "We keep laughing and messing up all of the poses." 

"I think we'll look fine," Baekhyun teases back, sticking out his tongue.

This time Chanyeol pulls him in for a kiss -- Baekhyun feels the hand on his waist steady him against the pillar, and there's a whoosh of photos being captured, but the only thing that Baekhyun truly notices is the way Chanyeol's tongue  across his lips. He shouldn't be allowed to do that, much less with a camera near them, and Baekhyun pushes his husband away before he makes a noise he can't take back. 

"Hey, Baekhyun," Chanyeol whispers later, when the photographer is ten feet away and not listening. "Do you want to go out tonight? Let's go to a bar or something. Friends hang out." 

"I haven't left this palace since I came here. Yes, please." 

-- 

It doesn't take too much effort to sneak out of the palace -- at least, not when you're Chanyeol -- and the two make their way out of the grounds on foot. Their hands aren't connected, although it had almost happened out of habit from that morning's photoshoot, but there's something about being by Chanyeol's side in the fresh air that has Baekhyun reeling. 

"Okay, so the palace is far away from actual towns," Chanyeol explains as they walk down a desolate road, lined with bushes and flowers and fruit trees. It's pretty in the fading sunlight, but Chanyeol is right -- there's nothing here. "But, I know how to call an uber. So, my darling, here we go. Off to bigger adventures." 

Baekhyun laughs out loud at the dramatic choice of words (ignoring the flip his stomach does at the word darling) and focuses on staying on the path. Everything is so different from Seoul, from the way the roads are paved to the fact that there's no cars on them, to the sound of night settling in. 

As if his husband could read his mind, there's a sudden hand on the small of his back, urging him forward on the road. 

"Tonight, I'll take you to a bigger city," Chanyeol's voice is sincere. "It's no Seoul, but I'll try my best. I'm not allowed to travel back out of the country for a few more months, and I don't want you to have to stay trapped in the palace the whole time. Honestly, it's kind of prison-like, sometimes." 

"Thank you," Baekhyun feels tears pricking his eyes, but he feels dumb crying over something as small as this. He blinks rapidly, willing the drops away, and actually jumps when he sees headlights in the distance. It'd been so long since he'd been this close to a car -- it was the small things he missed, really. 

They climb in and Chanyeol gives the driver an address and a smile. The first ten minutes of the ride are nothing special -- road, trees, ocean, Chanyeol's hand drumming along to the beat of the radio -- but then it starts to change.

There's lights and more cars and people. It's a big city, filled to the brim with all types of lights and businesses, and Baekhyun feels a rush of nostalgia fill him when he sees a building tall enough to scrape the sky. It's almost like home -- Seoul with an ocean view, Seoul with Chanyeol tucked against his side. 

They get out on a bustling corner and Baekhyun can't wipe the smile from his face, can't get the excitement to stop flowing through his veins at the sight of neon lights and crowded cafes. There's something sacred about this, about the way people file in and squeeze to fit, about the way the moon shines alongside city lights and glittering signs. 

"Chanyeol, it's amazing, thank you," Baekhyun is crying a little but he doesn't feel ashamed, not this time, because Chanyeol's smile is so big that it looks like his cheeks might burst from joy. "It feels like a piece of home." 

Their hands wind together then and Baekhyun lets Chanyeol take them to a crowded bar down the street. It's luxurious but somehow still grimy, just like everything Baekhyun had imagined, had missed. 

"I'm going to get us drinks," Chanyeol says excitedly, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet. "We can't drink more than a few rounds since we have to be coherent when we get back, but I want you to have a good time, okay? I'll be back." 

Chanyeol punctuates his words with a small kiss to Baekhyun's forehead, and then he's gone, into the crowd of people huddled around the bar. Baekhyun is still close to the door of the bar and so he moves to rest next to it, observing the people around him, thinking about Yuri and Heechul and Taeyeon, thinking about the night he'd been infatuated with Chanyeol's face and attitude.

The night he'd met his husband, he thinks belatedly, realizing for the first time that he'd chosen Chanyeol that night, that something inside of him had wanted him. Had always wanted him. 

There's a hand on his shoulder and he turns, expecting to see big ears and shining eyes greeting him. Instead, there's a well-built man with eyes that strike something inside Baekhyun -- panic. The way the stranger is looking at him is something predatory, scary, and Baekhyun feels fear bubble in his stomach. 

He starts to open his mouth, to move away from the grip on his shoulder, but he's ripped back toward the man with cruel intensity. Then he's being dragged through the door, something harshly shoved in his mouth to keep from any sound coming out. , he realizes, kicking out at the attacker, he's being kidnapped. 

"Chanyeol!" it comes out muffled, sounding more like a garble of letters, but he hopes that someone's heard and found the man who just kissed his head goodbye. No one does, though, because the entrance to the bar is already shut behind them and Baekhyun's sitting in a car now.

His head is ringing, spinning, and he realizes that he's dizzy, that there must've been something else on the cloth in his mouth, that Chanyeol doesn't know what's happened.

He's going to die and no one will ever know, he's convinced, but he tries to shout Chanyeol's name one last time before black engulfs him. 

--

D R A M A ! 

lmao i love you guys. hope u love the dramatics of this chapter..... :) 

(also: heres my curiouscat, if anyone wants it! https://curiouscat.me/baekyall)

feedback is always appreciated!!!! love you guys, goodnight!