It's cold. Something in the air smells like dust and cigarettes, and Baekhyun's throat is dry. 

For a second, everything is a blur. Baekhyun can't remember why his head hurts or his hands are numb, can't piece together why his and Chanyeol's bedroom smells like this. 

And then his mind clears up, the fog evaporates, and the world seems to spin back into reality all at once: he was taken, had screamed Chanyeol's name as darkness covered him. 

, he thinks, where is this place?

His vision twists along with his head, dark spots of panic forming in the corner of his vision. He's really shaky, he realizes, and he wonders what he'd breathed in earlier. 

Looking around, he's only more confused to be greeted by the sight of concrete walls and flooring, of barren, grey basement landscape. The simplicity of it, especially the rough edges of the concrete and the silent chill seeping into Baekhyun's body, makes him feel suddenly as if he's in Seoul. 

His heart leaps. No, no, this is a city basement, he's sure, but there's no way he's back in Korea. By the time it would've taken someone to get him smuggled back into his own country, Chanyeol would've found him, would've made his kidnappers regret it. 

He takes a hard swallow at the thought of Chanyeol, of his kind eyes that are probably dark with fear and anxiety, of the mouth that kisses his so sweetly, of the way their bedroom window allows the wind to sweep across his cheekbones. 

From the first day he'd met Chanyeol, a breeze had always surrounded them, the rays of the sun melting smiles together, the moonlight highlighting hurried kisses. The openness of the palace had kept them safe, had allowed Baekhyun to breathe. 

But there's no air in here, Baekhyun thinks, despondent, and he suddenly realizes that there's no windows either; he has no way of telling time. 

A fearful thought strikes panic into his chest then, and even when he tries to push it away by closing his eyes tightly, some part of his brain worries on, whispering: it's probably been days; Chanyeol isn't coming. 

He knows it's not true, is positive it can't be. He doesn't know who took him, or where he is, but he does know that Chanyeol is one of the most powerful men in his country, that Chanyeol would find him quickly. There's a lot that Baekhyun wonders about his husband, but of his kindness and loyalty he has no doubts. 

He will come, he tells himself, he will. 

There are muffled sounds, strained and deep, and Baekhyun recognizes them as voices. He can't tell how long he's been out, but hearing something other than his thoughts shakes him as if it'd been months since he'd last seen a person. Especially when he realizes that he doesn't recognize any of the voices drifting down, that they're getting closer and louder. 

He hears footsteps and closes his eyes, too scared to show his kidnappers that he's awake. 

There's no telling what would happen if they knew he was conscious, and so he lets his mouth fall open as if he was deep in sleep, forces himself to look relaxed, drugged. 

The first person to talk is quiet, almost as if he's whispering, and Baekhyun tries to place the sound, attempts to find any uniqueness in the voice. He can't make out any words, just quiet mumbles to another person as they clomp down the stairs. 

He needs to distinguish people apart, needs to remember the way the voices ring through his ears if he's going to tell them apart when he's safe again. 

If he's safe again, his brain reminds.

His mouth salivates at the thought, and Baekhyun fears that he's going to throw up, but he can't let himself -- not right now. He needs to breathe the musty air in deep and fight the urge to show any weaknesses in front of these people, needs to look asleep and harmless, needs to find a way out.

"Is he awake?" 

The first voice asks. Baekhyun notices an accent, but it's not a dialect. The person is foreign, maybe, but Baekhyun can't place it -- it's all too confusing to piece together while trying to keep a blank, innocent face. 

"No," the second one is a woman, which shocks Baekhyun more than it should have. "He's still out." 

He doesn't know if it's the drugs or not, but his thoughts gets sidetracked easily, and suddenly he's pondering whether Joohyun knows of the kidnapping, whether Minseok's little sister is giggling, whether his mother is on a plane to find him right now, crying. 

But then she speaks again and he forces his brain to shut off, reminds himself that he has more important things to worry about. 

"Did you cover our tracks well enough? The prince won't stand for this. I don't want to be caught," her voice quivers, but there's a bite infused in her next words. "Especially not because of your laziness." 

Something clanks around, as if someone is ruffling through a bag a few feet away from him. Baekhyun tries not to swallow, tries to keep his breathing as steady as he can. Fear takes hold of him once again and his stomach muscles clench at the thought of what they could be searching for in that bag. 

"Of course I did. When we get the ransom money, we'll transfer the boy over. He won't be our problem anymore, and we get a cut of the profits." 

"What if they trace the money?" her question is valid, and Baekhyun's mind is racing over how much they could possibly ask for, how much Chanyeol would give. 

"All cash. And then the boy is on to the higher ups, and we leave," the woman hums in agreement. "We're in it for the money, they're in it to punish him. I don't care enough about that fake prince, and neither should you." 

Baekhyun is reeling from the information, the use of words. Higher ups, fake prince, punish him. It all sounds so septic, so cruel, and Baekhyun can feel sweat dripping down his lower back. Their voices stop and he hears footsteps track back up the stairs, all the held breathe slowly draining from Baekhyun, heart pounding. 

After an entire minute of silence, Baekhyun chances it and opens his eyes, finding himself alone in the basement once again, silent sobs racking through him almost immediately. 

--

"Prince Chanyeol, the investigators have located the car that was used to take him. They can only work so quickly, please -- " 

"Please what?" Chanyeol's voice is rough and distraught, full of anger. "Someone took him and I was twenty feet away! I was gone for five minutes. I'm not going to calm down." 

Joohyun's breathing comes out ragged, but she doesn't respond, all too aware of the fear that's creeping in her cousin's voice. No matter how angry he looks, she knows that it's only because he's blaming himself, that he's worried sick.

It's been six hours, and Chanyeol has done nothing but pace and demand updates. He'd asked to use a car of his own, to try and find Baekhyun along with the investigators, but officials deemed it too dangerous to let the prince chase after anyone. 

"No one will hurt him," Joohyun promises, though even she can tell her voice only sounds hopeful, not assured. 

Chanyeol shakes his head at that frantically, long fingers drumming on his arm. He looks like he's about to crumble, like a wave touching the sky before it crashes down, like the tears she can she welling in his eyes. She watches patiently, waiting for the emotional breakdown that he's been avoiding for hours, sighing softly when she hears him take his first labored breath.

"But what if they do?" his voice is small, and suddenly he's sitting on the floor of the palace, shoulders hunched and quivering in dissolved tears. He looks small, scared, panicked.

Joohyun realizes that she has no answer; there is no answer she could ever give. If he's hurt, Chanyeol will never forgive himself, no matter what comforting words she offers him, no matter the amount of smiles Baekhyun still shows him. 

"Do you know who could've done it, Chanyeol?" she asks quietly as she kneels down to him. The prince coughs into his sobs, almost laughing, as if her question itself is a joke. 

"Who do you think could've done it?" his voice is cruel, almost accusing. "Who hates me enough to hurt my husband? I don't know -- why don't you give it a guess, Joohyun." 

"Chanyeol, you can't actually think Sehun would hurt Baekhyun," Joohyun notices the way her cousin flinches at his husband's name. "He doesn't like you, but he's not a kidnapper." 

Joohyun turns her head sharply at her own words, realizing something, and speaks again before Chanyeol gets the chance to explain his conspiracy theory, to make himself more angry and anxious. 

"Speaking of Sehun, you need to tell Baekhyun. He doesn't know anything between you two, he doesn't understand why you both act like that," Joohyun's voice calms down a little, hand reaching out to pat her cousin's shoulder softly. "You look at Baekhyun like he hung the stars, but you won't tell him anything about you. It confuses him, Chanyeol." 

This sparks light back into his eyes, makes his shoulders perk up. Despite the harsh advice, the taller seemed to only pick up on the positive, singling out the words that linked Baekhyun and affection.

"Does he know I look at him like that?" 

Joohyun wants to smile at him, but she can't let herself, not right now. She needs to be firm, needs Baekhyun to be safe, needs Chanyeol to think logically. 

"He doesn't know a lot of things," she responds. "Just -- when he's back, when he's safe -- talk to him. Don't leave him wondering why this happened. Don't leave it up to Sehun to explain your paranoia." 

Chanyeol is going to protest, but then he hears the slapping of soles on marble floor, a sure sign of someone running toward them. He hops to his feet, adrenaline already pounding, and meets the man in the archway. There's something in his eyes that leaves nothing to be said -- Baekhyun's location has been found. 

"I'm going." 

It's not a suggestion but a command, and the man complies, shifting aside to let the prince run through the halls toward the car waiting outside.

It's all happening in a flash, and Chanyeol wants to scream in joy, wants to throw up at the thought of anything happening to his husband before he gets there, wants to see Baekhyun's pretty eyes looking back at him. 

With shaky hands and a queasy stomach, Chanyeol watches the sunrise from the passenger seat of the investigator's car.

It's morning already, he realizes, but he had no time to get tired, not when all he could think about was the way Baekhyun had smiled at him before he left. The way he'd leaned into the kiss on the forehead, the way his ears and cheeks twinged pink, the way Chanyeol's stomach dropped when he came back to nothing. The way he emptied his stomach on the sidewalk when he realized what had happened, the way he'd called for help, choking and yelling and running. 

The way it was all his fault, really -- he'd snuck them both out, he'd left first, he hadn't come back quickly enough. 

Thinking about it makes him nauseous, so Chanyeol rests his head on the cold window of the car, letting himself daydream of Baekhyun's soft hands wrapped in his, of the sound of his husband's laughter, of soft black hair on the pillow next to his. 

-- 

Baekhyun wakes up from a fitful nap to the sound of slamming doors, to harsh shouting and thumping footsteps. He jumps in his corner of the basement and scrambles to hide somewhere, certain that the higher ups are here, that he's done for.

He's not positive why anyone would kidnap him, but he knows someone hates Chanyeol and is using him to get money. That much is clear -- but he's not sure what will happen to him once the money's recieved, and that makes him force his numb legs to crawl further away from the door in self preservation. 

His mind is screaming stop moving it hurts i'm tired but his heart is racing to a different tune. Soon he's huddled far away from the door, in the farthest corner of the basement, hidden by an empty cardboard box. He's shaky, so shaky, and he's positive he will actually throw up when he hears someone coming downstairs this time. 

The noises get louder and louder, then quiet, almost peaceful. Baekhyun wonders if he should go upstairs, but before he can really contemplate his choices, the door is swinging open to the basement. 

Don't breathe, he reminds himself, crouching impossibly lower. 

"Baekhyun?" 

All the air in his lungs leaves as if he's been punched.

The familiar voice,  the desperation ringing through it, the sound of footsteps.

He tries to stand up with shaky legs, still a little numb, and catches a glimpse of his husband bounding down the stairs, long limbs flailing and face relieved. He's not sure if he can stay standing for more than a few seconds, but it's okay, because in the next second Chanyeol is cradling him against his chest. 

It's Chanyeol. It's his Chanyeol.

It feels like home -- despite hours of crying and sweating, he still smells like the ocean, like his cologne, like sleeping covered in sunshine. The shorter melts into his arms even further, allowing Chanyeol to take over the job of holding him up, focused only on breathing. Baekhyun registers that he's sobbing openly onto Chanyeol's shoulder, that he's gone completely limp in his husband's arms, that Chanyeol is here. 

"Are you okay?" Chanyeol's voice is panicked and he chokes on the last word, gentle fingers gliding over Baekhyun's cheekbones, shoulders, waist. 

"I'm okay," Baekhyun gargles back through tears and snot.

He should care that he's almost hysterical, that he just ruined Chanyeol's expensive shirt, that his legs are completely numb -- but when Chanyeol's hands are anchoring him and lips are pressed against every inch of his face, he doesn't mind. 

"No one hurt you?" the sheer fear present in Chanyeol's voice makes warmth drop in Baekhyun's stomach, knowing that he was worried, knowing that Chanyeol wanted to protect him. 

He shakes his head feebly against the taller's shoulder, feeling sleepy again from the sudden rush of emotions and adrenaline, from the way Chanyeol's presence relaxes him.

Chanyeol is far from sleeping, though, because just as Baekhyun begins to doze off in his arms, Chanyeol squeezes him even closer, burying his face deep in the crook of Baekhyun's neck, breathing labored. 

"Wha --" 

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have left you, I'm so sorry," Chanyeol gasps against his neck. He nuzzles his nose against Baekhyun's clavicle, leaving a small peck of affection there, a tiny apology. "Baekhyun, I'm sorry." 

Baekhyun feels like crying all over again because no, it's not anyone's fault, he knows this; he's told himself this countless times since last night. 

"Stop," Baekhyun whispers, placing a kiss on the top of Chanyeol's head. It's so reminiscent of the night before that he feels himself tense up, but then Chanyeol looks up at him and his fears evaporate. Nothing is scary when it's Chanyeol, after all. "It's not your fault. You didn't know. I didn't know. I'm safe." 

"You're safe," he repeats to himself, comitting it to memory, convincing himself of the reality.

Baekhyun watches tears cloud his eyes and tries to smile them away. His small attempt and subsequent failure makes Chanyeol's eyes darken in sadness, in shame. 

The taller looks away, blinking rapidly, and he shakes his head before he's wrapping an arm under Baekhyun's knees. They're up the stairs in a few steps, thankfully. The sun is too bright, so Baekhyun closes his eyes against it, places a chaste kiss on the side of his husband's neck, whispers a tiny I'm safe, and lets the fatigue take over, surrounded by warmth. 

-- 

The next time he wakes up, it's in the now-familiar bedroom he shares with Chanyeol. He's held completely by Chanyeol in bed, encircled with rough hands and a delicate face. The sun is setting, he thinks, from the way the pink hue turns Chanyeol's hair a red color, from the way his lips look like soft flower petals, freshly fallen from a blooming tree. It feels like a dream, to see this face after the last day's events, to feel safe again. 

He traces a pale finger down the slope of Chanyeol's nose, and for a second all that he can think about is how cold the basement had been, how he'd panicked and cried alone, how he'd imagined the faces of the people he loved the entire time -- how Chanyeol showed up quite a few times. 

Maybe that means something, he ponders silently.

Drawing forward, Baekhyun kisses the tip of Chanyeol's nose as softly as he can. He's not sure why -- maybe just because he can.

"I'm awake," Chanyeol whispers, though his eyes don't open. Baekhyun startles but doesn't move back, liking the proximity of his husband and the comfort his deep voice instills. 

"Why weren't you sleeping?" Baekhyun questions softly, hand moving to rest on Chanyeol's shoulder.

With Chanyeol's wound around his waist, they're completely locked together, intimate and new for both. The tranquil warmth between them sparks something that feels like touching the sun, like eating the nectar of the gods, if only for the briefest of moments. 

"I couldn't," he simply says. "I kept thinking about your face when I kissed you good bye last night. How it could've been the last time I saw you. And then I would panic, and I'd have to listen to your breathing and match it to calm down. It was a tough cycle to break, so I didn't sleep." 

Baekhyun feels Chanyeol's affection and sorrow all at once, a torrential downpour of emotions, and he shakes his head at the turmoil. Even though Chanyeol's eyes are closed, he can feel it, he knows. 

"It's not the last. Look," Baekhyun launches forward to kiss Chanyeol's forehead. The taller's eyes crack open just in time to see his husband smiling shyly, proudly as he pulls away. "I did it again. And I'm safe." 

"Baekhyun," his voice is serious. "I have to tell you something. I want you to know why Sehun and I don't get along, why he might be involved with what happened." 

Baekhyun stares incredulously. 

"Sehun? Involved?" 

"I know you don't believe me. I don't think he orchestrated it, but I wouldn't be surprised if somewhere along the way, he was involved, that's all." 

It sounds so improbable, Baekhyun thinks, but then he sees the sincerity in Chanyeol's eyes, feels Chanyeol's hands moving from his waist to cup his face gently. Chanyeol is finally telling him something, is sharing something that matters to him, and Baekhyun sets his eyes to watch his husband intently, prepared to hear whatever made Joohyun go hush at the ball. 

"My uncle was not a good man," Chanyeol begins slowly, cautiously. "I always knew that, deep down. But he was my mom's brother, so I trusted him. Once she was gone, he was the only piece left of her, you know. My dad didn't like to bring up her death because it upset him -- he didn't think it was healthy to talk about. My uncle was the only one who acted like she once existed. And for a six year old, that's enough to earn trust and love." 

Baekhyun nods for him to go on, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly in the fading pink light. 

"Well, when I was ten, it was found out that he wanted to overthrow the king and instill a new government. He'd been recruiting members to revolt against the royal family. Treasonous. You can guess how it ended for him."

Chanyeol shrugs to show that it doesn't affect him, but Baekhyun can see the warmth in his eyes draining, replaced with a feigned strength.

"It really shouldn't have affected me. But Sehun convinced his father that I was involved, that I was being raised by my uncle instead of my dad -- that I was going to carry on my uncle's plan," he pauses to take a deep breath. "So, after Sehun's dad convinced the king, I got the punishment of staying in only in my palace until I was married. The idea was that, after I was married, they could make my spouse spy on me, just in case." 

Baekhyun in a deep breath, thoroughly confused. He'd never been asked to spy on Chanyeol, especially not for treasonous actions. 

"By the time I was seventeen, they realized it wasn't true. I was a decent kid, but they'd ed up with my punishment, and so they sent me to France to go to school -- to get rid of me, I guess." 

"Why would they send you so far? I'm so sorry, Chanyeol," Baekhyun consoles, inching closer to his husband. Chanyeol accepts it gratefully, letting Baekhyun rest his head against his chest, enveloping the smaller in his arms completely. 

"Both of my siblings are over ten years older and married commoners -- they left the palace; they didn't want a deliquent, spoiled kid living with them. So, I went to Paris. It was okay, actually -- it was nice to meet people for once, even if I had to learn another language to do it." 

Baekhyun likes the way Chanyeol's chest rumbles when he talks, especially when he's sharing stories, when they're so close like this. 

"After that incident, I acted like an to Sehun whenever I saw him. Even today, he holds something against me, and I can't stand it. We don't get along, and he's always looking for ways to hurt me. I don't know if he's really involved -- I hope he's not -- but I wanted you to know." 

"Hey, Chanyeol," Baekhyun bites his lip. "No offense, but your family is full of s." 

"I know, trust me." 

"At least you got to go to Paris, though? There's one upside," Baekhyun teases, leaning his head against his husband even more. His words are sarcastic, but his actions are sweet; so sweet that Chanyeol feels the tips of his ears heating up, hands shaking against the curve of Baekhyun's hip.

"Paris is just no. 2, though. You're the best thing to ever happen to me." 

Baekhyun scoots back abruptly, staring him straight in the face. "What?" 

"You're the best thing to ever happen to me," he repeats, this time slower, punctuated with a dimpled smile. "Before you came, being in the palace was like being in prison. Now I watch you look at flowers and the ocean and I leave the window open and -- you make living here feel like I'm actually living." 

Baekhyun smiles so bright that he can physically feel his face scrunching into a thousand tiny wrinkles, eyes twinkling with something that he doesn't want to name quite yet. Chanyeol mirrors it back, nose scrunched, and when they meet in the middle for a kiss, it feels as natural as the moon pulling on the tide, as their smiles melded together in laughter and relief. 

--

OOOOOH boy. chapter's done!

ok: SORRY! i'm graduating high school soon... i had competitions.. i had prom... i had a concert.. i have 103 projects due in the next three weeks. i'm dying. sorry this took so long.. goodnight <3

feedback is always appreciated!!