“Park Chanyeol!”

The dark haired male recognized the voice that was singing his name, and in turn, he closed his eyes and inwardly sighed. If he was anyone else but himself, he would’ve been embarrassed to be associated with the owner of that voice, but they’ve known one another since the first time their mothers decided to place their children in the same play pen at the daycare center.

Within a second, Chanyeol felt himself jerk forward, arms childishly thrown over his shoulders, and a body pressing itself against his back with casual ease. The creases in his shirt exemplified as he bent forward out of the laws of physics. Then he heard a laugh close to his ears, a familiar ring in his life, and responded by shaking the presence off of him and turning around.

“What do you want, Baekhyun?” Chanyeol said, feigning annoyance at the brunette’s grinning face. He was covered in sweat from practicing his normal soccer drills by himself, but as tired and drenched as he was at the moment, Baekhyun’s presence wasn’t a bother, nor was his normal skinship efforts. Baekhyun, so used to Chanyeol’s attitude and tone, knew that wasn’t intruding in a rude manner. He was the exception.

Kicking up pieces of the dead grace existing on the park’s patch of green, Baekhyun shrugged as he tucked his hands away in the front pockets of his shorts. “I went over to your house to study for finals, but your mother said you were here. I was going to wait in your room, but I got bored so I walked over here instead, because, you know, I don’t ever have the patience to wait.”

Chanyeol scoffed before he bent down picked up his soccer ball, placing it under his arm as he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back away from his face. The sun, though setting, still had heat that was beating down on his exhausted body and after two hours of practicing his kicks and maneuvers, he figured that it was alright to go home anyhow. “You should’ve waited then,” he said breathlessly, chest heaving for air. “I was going home, anyways.”

Baekhyun made a sound of doubt, cocking his head left and right before stretching his arms in the air and yawning. “Excuses, excuses,” he sang. “You wouldn’t have thought about home if I didn’t come and I would’ve been stuck raiding your room until you got back.”

“If you did that, I would’ve killed you,” Chanyeol said, taking the ball from under his arm and playfully shoving it towards Baekhyun’s chest. So used to the teasing play, Baekhyun caught the ball in time before it impacted.

“It would be a pleasure to die in your arms,” the brunette grinned as he held the ball in the end, following Chanyeol until he caught up with the male’s pace in step.

“It’s not ‘in your arms’,” Chanyeol corrected as he looked over to his right to catch Baekhyun making a face. “It’s ‘die by your hands’.”

“Same thing.”

Chanyeol would’ve argued that the two terms were far from being the ‘same thing’. One was more benign while the other was cynical. Two things that were the turning points of how one could interpret a sentence or a thought, but his body was tired, and Baekhyun was no longer on the topic seeing as how he started humming a tune, so Chanyeol decided to not bother with correction.

-

-

Even though his mother said that he had met Baekhyun in day care during their toddler years, Chanyeol can only recall their primary school years as his earliest memory of interacting with Baekhyun. Supposedly, each friendship should start off with a simple question such as “Can you pass me the crayon box?” or “Do you want to play?” but his first memory with Baekhyun involved being pushed down the slide, head first, and the teacher running over to the source of Chanyeol’s shrill scream.

The funny thing was, despite being the victim of Baekhyun’s unintended aggressive play, it was Baekhyun who cried an entire river. Maybe he feared repercussion from the teacher or his parents, and maybe he cried from the guilt of having been the cause of Chanyeol’s minor accident from the five foot plastic slide, Chanyeol didn’t know. He only knew that their friendship stopped being a platonic arrangement set up by their mothers through play dates, which, up until that point, consisted of awkward plays with plastic cars and blocks with no genuine words spoken between the two. It blossomed furthermore the moment when Baekhyun started staying by his side, waiting for his recovery from the juvenile event on the slide, waiting for Chanyeol to forgive him.

The slide incident, Chanyeol supposed, was the injection of adrenaline that they needed. They stopped seeing one another on their mothers’ accord. Rather than to be dragged to meet one another as it was before, they often asked, equally on both ends, if they could see each other.

-

-

Trying to copy the notes that Kyungsoo, who was that one friend that took school so seriously, he even wrote side notes alongside his actual notes, proved to be a challenge during Chanyeol’s lunch break with Baekhyun sitting beside him in the courtyard mumbling about which subject he should focus more on while chewing on a half-eaten chicken leg. Kyungsoo’s handwriting looked more like scribbles and it took extreme focus just to decipher the cryptic words, and Baekhyun chewing with his mouth open was pulling Chanyeol’s attention away from the task.

“I think I should look into mathematics more, don’t you think?” Baekhyun was sitting across from Chanyeol, but his eyes were wandering everywhere from the sky to the other kids who were eating outside. Chanyeol guessed that the brunette thought he wasn’t listening all that time he was looking down on his papers because Baekhyun reached for him with his greasy hand before even looking to see if Chanyeol had lifted his head up to see him.

Grabbing Baekhyun’s wrist just in time, Chanyeol gently pushed the hand back and Baekhyun finally turned his head in his direction. “You’re going to grease up Kyungsoo’s notes. Wipe your hand.”

“I didn’t think you were paying attention,” Baekhyun grinned.

“Maybe if you looked first, you would’ve seen that I was watching you looking around like a child,” Chanyeol responded, resting his tired hand on the table, breaking from the task of copying the notes.

Baekhyun shrugged the fault away. “Well, at least I have your attention now.”

“You’ve had half of my attention this entire time.” Chanyeol raised a brow at him before glancing down at the paper to emphasize to his friend that he had been multitasking on something far more important that listening to another human being suffer from senioritis.

“You can always copy Yoda Ears’ notes at home.”

“I could,” Chanyeol said, tilting his head slightly to the left as he was thinking about the suggestion. However, his tone made it obvious that he had a contradicting point to be made. “Then again, I’m assuming that you’ll be coming over later, so wouldn’t it still be the same thing?”

“Is it really my fault that you pay attention to me?”

“It always is.”

“Should I disappear and leave you to your misery?” Baekhyun asked, blinking more often than he should be.

Chanyeol grinned, but shook his head. “It’s fine. I guess I’ll save the rest for later. My wrist is killing me,” he complained, putting the pen down and rolling his wrist around.

“Here. Give me your hand,” Baekhyun chided, holding out his palm.

The gesture had been done so many times, and Chanyeol knew what the brunette had in mind. He reached over, feeling the familiarity in their actions, and gave Baekhyun possession of his right hand. Then he waited with patience as Baekhyun began to massage the hand with no exception to the fingers.

“You know,” Chanyeol started, catching Baekhyun’s eyes before the brunette went back to watching his work, “if you still don’t know what to do with your life, you can always be a masseuse.”

“If you make it to be a professional, you can hire me to be your own private masseuse,” Baekhyun teased, giving Chanyeol a wink. “I’d have special rates on full body massages, though, if you know what I’m saying.”

“Your ual prerogative is going to land you in jail.”

“Only if you tattle to the cops.”

“I will.”

“What kind of person turns in their friend?” Baekhyun snorted, dramatically putting Chanyeol’s hand down for the act.

Chanyeol’s lips curved just as he laughed at the brunette before settling down to reach over and giving him a soft slap on the cheek. “A best friend.”

-

-

Although soccer was a sport that he’d been passionately participating in since junior high, Chanyeol had no ambition to follow the sport until it turned into a career. During the season in fall, like then, Chanyeol would barely find the time to sit down and leisurely play a few strings on his guitar. Only a few people knew about his real intentions in life, his parents and a few friends—Baekhyun included.

The real dream (more like fantasy) was to somehow make a career out of music.

The first time Chanyeol told Kyungsoo about his dreams outside of high school, Kyungsoo almost unintentionally poked his eyes out with a pair of metallic chopsticks when they were out having dinner together one night after Kyungsoo picked him up after practice. Chanyeol had no other form of transportation to get back home that day, so he pulled Kyungsoo out of his life’s schedule and decided to treat him. It all ended with the possibility of becoming accidentally blind in one eye.

“How is that even possible?” Kyungsoo asked in a confused manner, looking back and forth their cooking meat and Chanyeol’s face. “You know, I’ve never seen you with an instrument once. After all these years, the only thing I’ve seen you pick up is a soccer ball.”

Chanyeol made a sour face as he crunched on the Pajeori side dish given. “What is with people thinking I don’t have any other hobby besides playing on the field?”

“Can you honestly blame us? I don’t know a lot of athletes at our school,” Kyungsoo said, flipping over the meat on the grill. “I know Kim Jongin and he’s…pretty out there.”

“He’s trying to maintain his game play to get into a university with a scholarship. It makes sense that he spends his time focusing on his plays than music,” Chanyeol responded.

Kyungsoo gave him a look. “And you? Why waste time playing a sport all your life only to pursue something that’s seriously off tangent,” he mumbled.

The smell of half-cooked meat rose to Chanyeol’s senses. He was hungry, and perhaps it was the hunger that drove him to take Kyungsoo’s response with casual ease rather than awkward hesitation. “I like soccer because it relieves my stress. It’s fun and all, but I like playing instruments a lot more… I just started trying to write my own stuff recently.”

“Hn.” Kyungsoo stared at him for a while before shaking his head, giving up on understanding at the moment. He looked for meat that were already cooked before the others and carefully put it in his mouth after blowing on it. “You’re odd,” he said as he ate. “Really, though.”

Chanyeol rolled his eyes. “Stop worrying about my life choices and start worrying about when you’ll get a girlfriend.”

Across the table, Kyungsoo frowned childishly at him. “Excuse me, but you’re in no position to talk.”

“I don’t need a girlfriend,” Chanyeol snorted.

“Right. Baekhyun’s all the company you need,” Kyungsoo retorted, sticking his tongue out.

It happened before Kyungsoo could even think about it. Chanyeol reached over and jabbed him on the chest with his chopsticks and pulled back before the latter could do anything back. “Stop talking nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense if it’s the truth.”

“Maybe I need to buy you a dictionary if that’s your definition of ‘truth’, then” Chanyeol laughed.

In turn, Kyungsoo grinned as he heaved his shoulders and let the subject go. “Whatever. Just eat. It’s your treat, anyways.”

-

-

As far as Chanyeol knew, there wasn’t anything special that Baekhyun could do. Growing up, he did fairly well in school. Grades were average, but the good kind of average that never disappointed a parent. Sports wise, Chanyeol was far better in soccer than he was with basketball, and Baekhyun was just the opposite. When it came to the court rather than the field, Baekhyun wasn’t afraid to one Chanyeol up and mercilessly beat him in a game of one on one.

It was always Baekhyun to invite Chanyeol for a game, but Chanyeol knew that this was a ploy for the brunette to use just so he could feel some satisfaction in beating him. Games would always involve the usual push and shove on Baekhyun’s part. There were even times when Chanyeol would fall on his knees in the process of Baekhyun trying to steal the possession, which would leave scratches on him.

On the way back to Baekhyun’s house like they always routinely did after games, Chanyeol would sometimes limp, depending on how rough Baekhyun was that day, but the brunette would always about it.

“I’ve seen you get kicked on the shins and knees so many times, yet you don’t limp.”

“The field’s covered in grass, not concrete.”

“Ah, that makes sense then.”

“Stupid.”

-

-

With graduation came the wagon full of old traditions that many looked forward to. It was a topic that came up when it could and Chanyeol couldn’t escape it even if he wanted to try.

It was a Saturday night when the topic came up again and it was during a pot luck held at Kyungsoo’s house in the evening. Chanyeol was in charge of the kimchi so his mother decided to make Kkakdugi and Oi-so-Bagi for him to take over to Kyungsoo’s house. Even as he rode the bus over to Kyungsoo’s side of the town, he knew that Baekhyun would be quite disappointed in his contribution. Baekhyun would survive with Kkakdugi, but he definitely wouldn’t eat the cucumber kimchi seeing as how he absolutely hated the vegetable for some reason or another. In all his years being with Baekhyun’s abstract self, he never understood the hatred for the innocent vegetable.

When he arrived at Kyungsoo’s humble little home, he was greeted by the peering nerd who let him in after taking the bags holding the kimchi into his possession. Chanyeol had been at Kyungsoo’s house on multiple occasions and it felt like entering his second home. With a casual walk, he made his way over to the living area where Baekhyun was trying to trap Jongdae, who was in the same homeroom as Chanyeol, into a headlock. Sehun, who played as a defensive player on Chanyeol’s team, sat on the side trying to snap photos of the event, and Luhan from the school’s tennis team was shaking his head at the sight of Jongdae kicking his feet everywhere in vain.

Watching for a few seconds was enough for Chanyeol to bear. He curled his fingers into a ball and knocked on the wall, garnering the attention of all of them. “Yah, Byun Baek. You’re in someone else’s house. Quit terrorizing other people’s guests.”

By then, Jongdae’s face was turning red and it wasn’t a good thing that Baekhyun’s attention was suddenly ripped from his victim’s wellbeing and towards Chanyeol. “Oh, hey, Yeol!” he grinned. “We were just waiting for you!”

“For Christ’s sake, Baekhyun.” Jongdae was wheezing and Chanyeol went over, rolling his eyes as he crouched down and pulled Baekhyun from his victim’s body. While Jongdae was coughing and slowly crawling away to smack Sehun for not doing anything, Chanyeol stole a cushion and sat himself down. “What’re you guys watching?” he asked as he saw that the television was actually to a live channel.

“A rerun on the Miss Korea pageant,” Sehun answered, face focused on his cellphone.

“Oh.”

Baekhyun looked over at him and scooted closer, swinging his right arm around Chanyeol’s shoulder, rocking his body for a momentary second. Then, with casual ease, he rested his cheek on Chanyeol’s left shoulder. “s, s, everywhere,” he said.

Chanyeol made a noise of feigned disgust as he put his right palm on Baekhyun’s face and pushed him off, causing the brunette to burst in a fit of laughter on the floor before picking himself back up. After a while, when he was sitting straight up once again, he elbowed Chanyeol’s side. “How’re you today, Yeol? Did you have a good day? You seem grumpy.”

It was clear that Baekhyun was teasing him (nothing out of the usual). Turning his head, he gave the boy a look before caressing his cheek. Baekhyun was surprised at the soft gesture, but was met with an unexpected pain when Chanyeol suddenly grabbed his cheek and pinched it.

Immediately, Baekhyun let out a cry and slapped Chanyeol hard on the shoulder before starting to tend to his red cheek. “Holy hell, that hurt!”

Ignoring the remark, Chanyeol laughed softly. “I had a good day. Thanks for asking.”

“.”

“I have one, yes.”

“Stop trying to be smart,” Baekhyun mumbled, rubbing his cheek. “I know that you have one. I wasn’t trying to compliment it. I—”

“Alright, kids!” Kyungsoo announced, entering the room with a presence that disturbed all current conversations. “I have the table set already. Come on and grab something to eat so we can turn the movie on.”

Sehun was the first to scramble up and head to the kitchen. Luhan and Jongdae followed. Chanyeol was the second to the last to leave. When he rose, Baekhyun was still on the floor frowning up at him. Sighing a breath of air, Chanyeol held out a hand, but for a moment, he had a feeling that Baekhyun wasn’t going take his offer, However, the feeling never lasted as Baekhyun reached up, holding tight on the offered hand. The purpose of the interaction was to help the brunette off the ground, but before Chanyeol knew it, Baekhyun pulled him, causing Chanyeol to lose his balance and fall on top of him.

Baekhyun groaned at the impact. Chanyeol’s elbow had accidentally jabbed him on the side, and while Chanyeol rolled off of him with little to no injury except for maybe an aching shoulder, Baekhyun curled into a minor fetal position. “…” he said in a hoarse voice with a hint of laughter in between. “That didn’t go the way I thought it would.”

Chanyeol pushed himself off the ground, sat up, and slapped Baekhyun on the thigh. “Idiot.”

“You’re beating a dead horse right now, Yeol,” Baekhyun chuckled, eyes closed with his lips curved in a smirk.

Scoffing, Chanyeol opened his mouth to respond back, but Kyungsoo interrupted the moment, knocking twice against the wall and tearing the atmosphere apart. “Hey, stop messing around and grab something to eat already before Sehun fills his tray up with everything and Baekhyun’s stuck with the cucumber kimchi.”

Gasping, Baekhyun jerked straight up and whipped his head at Chanyeol. “You know I hate cucumbers.”

“And you’ll be eating it, too, if you don’t hurry on over,” Chanyeol replied back with the same amount of attitude.

Baekhyun made a face, grumbling as he stood up. “Fine.” He looked back down at Chanyeol who met his eyes as he managed to sit himself back up. There was a hesitation as if Baekhyun had the intention of helping him to get back on his feet, but within a second, the intent vanished and Baekhyun started walking to the kitchen, receiving a hard pat on the back from Kyungsoo.

“Chanyeol, you, too,” Kyungsoo said, gesturing for Chanyeol’s efforts.

Grunting, Chanyeol rose, stretching his back, which ached. As he approached closer to Kyungsoo, the giant set a hand on his head as he accompanied him to the kitchen. “You can play with your girlfriend later, okay?”

Chanyeol jabbed Kyungsoo in the ribs without any remorse for how the other exaggeratedly winced. As they neared the kitchen table, Kyungsoo performed a playful headlock, causing the others in the room to laugh at Chanyeol playing along by making faces.

Their horse play didn’t stop until Kyungsoo became the apparent target for a chicken leg bone. When he let Chanyeol go, he took his focus up and looked in the direction where the bone came from. “Did you just throw that piece of saliva-covered bone at me? It hit my forehead and that’s just about as gross as anything’s ever going to get.”

Baekhyun shrugged, keeping his eyes down casually as he picked up another chicken leg. “You needed to stop,” he simply said.

Shaking his head, Kyungsoo softly chuckled as he moved away from Chanyeol to start filling up his own tray to take back to the living room. Chanyeol mobilized even more slowly, following behind Kyungsoo’s lead around the pot luck table and catching Baekhyun giving him a look before getting distracted by Sehun.

-

-

Once everyone became settled into a spot in the living room, eating bits and pieces of what they had chosen for themselves, Kyungsoo crawled over to the television and snapped open a DVD case holding the movie that the majority of them had voted to watch a few days prior. As he turned the DVD player on and searched for the remote to change the TV’s viewing channel, Luhan fawned over the women that were being showcased on the Miss Korea pageant rerun.

“I think it’d be nice if I could get a girl like that,” he said rather to himself than to anyone else. “Then I’d have someone to give my second button to at the end of graduation.”

“The clock’s ticking,” Sehun replied with his mouth half full. “I’m going to give my second button to Hye Su if we don’t break up until then.”

“My girlfriend and I just broke up. I don’t think I’ll be giving my button to anyone, but my mom,” Jongdae said.

“I think I’m going to give mine to Yoon Mi,” Kyungsoo said, contributing to the conversation as he finally found the remote and moved quickly to place the DVD disk in the player. “I’m pretty sure she likes me, so I might as well since I kind of like her, too.”

“You’re both nerds! You’re practically two peas in a pod,” Baekhyun snorted before he placed a strip of grilled meat in his mouth. “She’s the student body president and you’re the class robot. What else is surprising?”

“Whatever, dwarf.” After finishing up, Kyungsoo stood up and turned the lights off, creating the dark atmosphere needed for a good movie, and took his place back. As the previews were playing, Sehun turned his phone on silent and dimmed the lighting while Luhan was the only one out of the group besides Jongdae that was enthralled by the trailers. However much the others have dropped the topic, Kyungsoo wasn’t done talking with Baekhyun. “Since you’re so judgmental, who’re you planning on giving your button to?”

Baekhyun shrugged before softly bumping his shoulder with Chanyeol’s. “This guy,” he responded, earning himself a raised brow from Chanyeol. “Why give your heart to a stupid girl when you can give it to your best buddy? It’s simple logic.”

“Yah,” Chanyeol interrupted after swallowing his bite. “Give it to someone else.”

Kyungsoo snickered. “Rejected,” he sang.

“Why?” Baekhyun whined, exaggerating the look on his face as he attempted to appear like a sickly pup. “Every girl rejects me, and now my friend? Am I that ugly?”

“You’re talking too loudly for the previews,” Chanyeol said, nudging the brunette by the side. “And besides, you overly dramatic drama prince, you’re the one that rejects every confession you get. Just hurry up and find someone you like already before you end up like Jongdae and have to give your button to your own mother.”

“I heard that,” Jongdae piped.

“You were supposed to!” Baekhyun immediately shot back before turning his attention back to Chanyeol whose eyes were already glued to the bright TV screen. “What about you? Who’re you going to bestow your precious button to?”

Giving a shrug, Chanyeol continued to eat without gracing a glance in Baekhyun’s way. “No one,” he said as he picked at his rice. “I have no one special in mind.”

Baekhyun scrunched his face before looking away. “I put thought into my decision and you don’t even have someone in mind for yours,” he scoffed. “I’m hurt, Park Chanyeol.”

“Do you want it?”

“What?”

“My button. Do you want it?” Chanyeol asked again, turning his head.

“I don’t take pity prizes,” Baekhyun replied, nose in the air for effect.

“Okay.”

“However--”

“Can you two shut up?” Kyungsoo cut in. “The movie’s starting.”

As the opening credits to the production companies began to play, Chanyeol dropped his interest in the conversation while Baekhyun held on to his for later events.

-

-

When the night came to an end and everyone began going their own separate ways, Chanyeol packed the empty plastic bins back into the bag he arrived with. He stayed behind to clean up after the mess. Baekhyun was the second to leave, but only to put his ware away back at his house not too far from Kyungsoo’s. He came back fifteen minutes after the rest left, but by the time he rejoined the two, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo had already finished washing dishes and throwing trash away.

“You worked really fast...” Baekhyun said under his breath as he looked around the near spotless room. All the furniture that was moved was returned to their original placing. Dishes and trays were drying and Chanyeol was in the midst of taking his bag off the floor.

“Chanyeol did most of the work,” Kyungsoo said, beaming a smile.

“Without me, your clumsy hands wouldn’t have gotten anything done,” Chanyeol teased as his hands grabbed a hold of the bag handle. Then he walked towards the front door, passing Baekhyun in the hallway as the brunette stood by and made a face.

“Whatever,” Kyungsoo dismissed. “There’s nothing left here for you to pick up, Baek. You should go home—wait. You can go home or you can stick around and play some video games with me.”

Baekhyun gave him a lopsided grin for a second before turning his head back around to watch as Chanyeol slipped his tennis shoes back on his feet at the front step. “That sounds good, but I’m already tired. I think I’ll just go home. Sorry.”

“Maybe some other time, then.”

“Just call me over when,” Baekhyun replied. Walking to the front, he turned the knob and opened the door for Chanyeol who had just finished putting his shoes on. “I’ll walk you over to the bus stop, okay?”

It didn’t come off as a question more than it came off as a simple statement, so Chanyeol merely accepted the gesture and walked out before Baekhyun, waving at Kyungsoo as he entered the dark night. After the door was shut, he felt Baekhyun nearing him until the brunette fell into step by the time they let themselves out of Kyungsoo’s front gate.

The neighborhood was quiet. Nothing significant came to sound other than the occasional street cats purring or fighting with one another and the muffled voices of the residents as they passed each house. Chanyeol held no conversation for the most part, comfortable in the silence between him and Baekhyun with every passing lamp post.

Baekhyun had an oddity about him, because one minute he’d be unable to stop his mouth from talking, and the next, he was as silent as a corpse. The one detail that Chanyeol happened to like about their friendship was that no words were ever required between them in certain situations. Sometimes, it was just nice to keep company without the assistance of words. At least, that’s how Chanyeol felt.

When they reached the bus stop, Chanyeol remained standing by the post while Baekhyun decided to sit down on the provided bench. He crossed his arms together, hugging himself as he tried to keep warm from the night air with his thin jacket. “Come sit down,” he said, noting the way Chanyeol opted to stand and lean against the sign.

“I’m okay standing.”

Pulling out his phone to check the time, Baekhyun let it go momentarily. “The bus won’t be coming here for a while. I swear I’m not that fat. I can make space for you here.”

Chanyeol stood in his place for a few seconds before looking over to where Baekhyun was patting the space next to him on the old concrete bench. Inwardly sighing in defeat of his stance, he walked over and sat down, placing the bag on his lap. Crickets chirped, reminding them of the isolation that went about the night as though they were the only two people still active on the streets. Baekhyun looked over and his eyes dragged to Chanyeol’s hands. Even in the yellow, ugly light of the street light near them, he could spy small slices cut into his friend’s hand made by grass blades after several missed kicks and steals.

“You should probably put a Band-Aid or two on that,” Baekhyun commented quietly.

“It’s nothing. It doesn’t bother me, so it’s alright.”

The latter hummed in response before looking away. “Is your dad still pushing you to play even in University? What about Yonsei?”

The concern touched base as Chanyeol was reminded of his some-what strained relationship with his father. Heavily traditional in contrast to his mother, his father held a larger role in choosing certain aspects of his life for him; his future being one of them. When he broke the news that he didn’t wish to continue with his sport after high school, there was a fight that resulted in Chanyeol having to stay the night at Baekhyun’s house for a few days until his mother called him back to a home where he would barely interact with the patriarch.

Chanyeol made the effort to answer. “He hasn’t completely given up the dream just yet. I think he’s waiting for me to change my mind to suit him, but it’s alright.”

“I think you need to tell him again and again until he gets it. Nothing good comes from stalling an answer.”

“It’s difficult.”

“Well, nothing in life is easy, you know. You shouldn’t push things off.”

“I shouldn’t.” Chanyeol agreed on the basis that Baekhyun was right despite his own cowardice towards his life and choices. “But, I am.”

Not soon after, they heard the familiar rumble of an approaching bus and saw the headlights like deer. It came around the corner, filling gaps in the conversation that had been taken away by the night wind, untouched once again for the short moment.

Chanyeol rose and Baekhyun did the same, hands in pocket as he stayed stationary while the latter went ahead and stood by the edge of the street, watching and waiting for the large transportation bus to make an eerie halt. Once the doors came open, Chanyeol stepped one foot on the stairs before using a railing to pull himself up. He turned his head back to give Baekhyun a nod and proceeded to get inside, managing to hold onto the aisle seats before the driver took him away with the brunette’s fading figure through the windows.

-

-

The locker room was a place of oddity, and it held Chanyeol by his neck, threatening to never let his feet touch the ground again. Sometimes, he thought that it was the humidity in the small, enclosed space. Hot showers after practice would fog the entire room, making it feel as though he was in a sauna with ten other boys, all of which had better physique than he did. Other times, he’d think that it’s because the locker room reminded him of the pressure from his father and that’s what made the zone feel as though it was suffocating him.

Recently, however, he felt another type of constriction around him, a type of feeling that left him confused and scared to a degree. As he stood there, half with his bare torso out for any wandering eye to see, Chanyeol kept his own eyes down as he tied the laces of his cleats, careful to not raise his eyes on the body of any of his other teammates.

What he had for the male was more than the admiration that he once thought it was back in his earlier days. Naïve and a fool, he mistook his curiosity for something so childish and premature, unaware of what it truly was until he realized that the attraction he felt was more than that of which was considered normal.

Kyungsoo had been the one to break his delusion their freshman year. Realizing that what he felt was more than just friendship for the guy, it threw him in a loop. Though it didn’t last very long, it led him to realize how the majority of his old, passing crushes often involved more men than girls, but he had usually chalked it up to nothing.

It wasn’t something that everyone was ready to accept. He accepted his body’s attraction, but he had yet to fully wonder what he ought to do about it. With pressure to play soccer from his father, there wasn’t much room to do anything that would be considered disappointing around his old, traditional man. There were objections towards other aspects of his life at home, and there was no doubt in his mind that acceptance of his uality was pretty bleak.

Just as Chanyeol saw from his peripheral vision that his teammates were finished dressing, he finally raised his head and slipped on his jersey. He felt hands patting him on the back as teammates walked by and told him to hurry. Smiling, he followed near the end.

-

-

His lungs would burn hotter than the scorching sun against his skin, and his legs would beg for rest, but there was nothing more that Chanyeol could do besides persevere through the physical hardships of practice. It was something that he could conquer; something that was far more doable than the issues that he had left on the back burner.

Training was vigorous, but it was emphasized that intense practice would win the title. Chanyeol overlooked everything for the promise of being able to leave on his own accord afterwards and being able to crawl into his bed as though it was no one’s business but his.

With body covered in sweat, his front hair stuck in groups that were attached to his forehead. Clingy, he pushed them all off to the side. He looked to his left and saw Baekhyun sitting on the player’s bench and Chanyeol held a hand up to the brunette to show that he had seen him. The act was reciprocated.

As he ran over to his coach along with everyone else for a final message, Baekhyun came into mind. Chanyeol wondered how long it had been since Baekhyun began meeting with him after practice almost religiously. It didn’t bother him. In fact, he enjoyed the company that he received rather than the sinking feeling of loneliness that came with walking home alone.

Once all announcements and reminders were made, everyone went about in all directions, but many began to head back to the locker room. Chanyeol was the outlier, turning his back to his team and walked across the field to meet Baekhyun, who sat comfortably with a grin on his face, watching as Chanyeol approached him.

“I went in the locker room and got your things,” Baekhyun said the moment Chanyeol came into earshot. For a second, the latter’s eyes moved away from the brunette and saw the dark blue duffle bag that he used for his sports gear. “I didn’t think you’d want to take a shower here. You always prefer showering at your house.”

Baekhyun had a towel at hand ready and tossed it over to Chanyeol, who caught it without trouble. As he wiped his face dry, Baekhyun took the bag off the ground and swung the sling across his chest, carrying it for the weary player. Bending down, he took an untwisted bottle of water that he had kept under the bench and handed it over as well. “I thought practice took forever. I was almost going to drink that since it was so hot today.”

“Then you shouldn’t have come,” Chanyeol replied, taking the cap off and drinking half the water inside the container within a matter of seconds. He had forgotten how parched he was. “Days like this, you should just go home instead of waiting for me.”

“I did go home,” Baekhyun replied as they began to walk towards a gate exit. “Then I came back. I can’t just leave my best friend out here to die in this weather, though.”

“That’s thoughtful of you.”

“Always will be.”

When they reached outside the gates, Chanyeol had them stop to change out of his cleats and into a pair of sneakers before they continued on to walk in the direction of the stop that they both took.

They found seats in the back and took their time slowly walking there against the movement of the bus. Chanyeol took the window seat (his stop was after Baekhyun’s) and Baekhyun plopped next to him, purposely shoving his shoulder against Chanyeol’s on the way down.

Chanyeol made a sound as he hit the side and Baekhyun snickered. “It can’t be worse than the burn you feel during practice.”

There was truth in that and Chanyeol did nothing but rub his arm. After a while, he took the duffle bag from Baekhyun’s possession and moved it onto his lap, thanking the brunette for carrying it for him along the way. “Do you want to eat dinner at my house?” Chanyeol asked.

Baekhyun had eaten at his house every so often. It wasn’t surprising to anybody in Chanyeol’s household to have Baekhyun come in with him after practice, but this time, Baekhyun, after slightly hesitating, smiled and shook his head. “It’s okay. My own mother’s probably waiting for me to eat at the house, anyways. She went out to buy some stuff when I left.”

“Okay.”

Chanyeol turned his head and looked out the window and Baekhyun, in turn, asked, “How about you come over mine?” He did so sheepishly, tilting his head in Chanyeol’s way, igniting a laugh from the other as he pushed the brunette away with a hand.

“No, it’s alright. I won’t eat that much anyways, so I’d just be taking up space.”

“You never take up space in my house.”

“Well, other than the fact that I think I’m close to dropping dead and falling asleep, I haven’t taken a shower yet. I’m not going to embarrass myself in front of your mother.”

“But my mother loves you,” Baekhyun replied cheekily.

“And I love her enough to never step foot in her house looking and smelling like I do now,” Chanyeol said, laughing quietly as he met Baekhyun’s eyes with no words following after until he felt Baekhyun nudged him with his elbow.

“Just so you know, you’re welcome at my house whenever.”

“It’s always been that way since we were young, Baek. I know.”

Baekhyun snorted. “Well, you never take advantage of it.”

“Are you complaining?”

“I actually am.”

Baekhyun’s lips jutted out in a pup-like pout and his eyes batted like a child. Parting his lips to comment on the brunette’s premature ways, Chanyeol shot a hand out and grabbed a chunk of Baekhyun’s cheek, pinching it. He only ceased when he felt the bus come to a stop and looked out the window; then he released his poor victim. “This is your stop.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come over?” Baekhyun asked as he rose off his seat.

“Yeah,” Chanyeol nodded. “Maybe some other time.”

Baekhyun made a face. “Can’t say I’m not disappointed.” He laughed, but went on to stand in the aisle, giving a quick peace sign. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Chanyeol repeated as he waved good-bye.

-

-

He stepped through the front door, something familiar to him since he could remember, but he hated the air that was kept limited to the house. It seemed as though a force field existed, pushing all stress and troubles to concentrate within that small structure, something unfelt to Chanyeol before he stepped within the gates.

Taking off his shoes, he walked further into the house, intent on walking straight into his room before heading to take a shower. Unsurprisingly, his father was in the receiving area, the zone where Chanyeol had to trudge across to get to the stairs.

They met eyes as Mr. Park raised his eyes from the television and set his attention to his son, who was disheveled in appearance and blatantly weary. Chanyeol stopped in his place, respectfully bowing towards his father just before he took a step.

He felt a burning at the back of his head, undoubtedly from the eyes of the other man in the room. Silently, he wished that his mother wasn’t busy somewhere else in the house and that she had been there to lift the suffocating atmosphere for a short while, but he figured that there was nothing that he could do.

Chanyeol felt like he was in the homestretch the moment his hand took hold of the railing and he was able to conquer three steps up, heading in the right direction, but the feeling was short-lived by the sound of his father’s gruff and deep voice.

“How well did practice go?”

“Well enough,” Chanyeol replied.

“I hope you’re not slacking off.”

The grip on the sturdy wood railing tightened and Chanyeol’s other hand curled into a ball without notice. “I’m not,” he said, voice constricting.

It was infuriating. His face was beginning to feel hot, but Chanyeol barely noticed. He felt hurt, but annoyance accompanied those feelings, all of which were handed to him on a platter by a parent who played his role inversely rather than being the type of father that positively influenced their child. To be berated on a semi-daily basis was sufferable, but he despised the microaggressions and underhanded comments. He felt his lungs burn with every breath on hot afternoons. He knew what it was like to feel like his body was about to give way. And it was because of the gruel work that he put in that Chanyeol felt offended by the remarks, assuming he was just lazy.

“I do my part.” His voice wavered, but strengthened by the end. There was fury in his voice, but he ceased it, refusing to let his resolve crack.

“If it’s not your teammates that you’re burdening then it’s your mother and I, especially when you don’t do well.”

Chanyeol’s chest feels heavy, breathing faster than he was a few moments ago. He didn’t speak back, clueless in how to respond back to such a statement.

In turn, his father paused, though steady at keeping eye contact with his son who was frozen on the step of the stairs. “I don’t understand why you won’t pursue something that you do well in.”

“Because it’s not something I want to do all my life,” Chanyeol responded.

“You’ve been offered a scholarship—”

“To play. And like I told you, I don’t want to play anymore.”

“Yonsei,” Mr. Park brought up. “You said you were interested in Yonsei, but the tuition is more than we can afford without that scholarship.”

“I would take it,” Chanyeol started off, “if it didn’t mean having to live out what you couldn’t do when you were young. I’m not going to subject myself to follow in the footsteps you wish you took.”

Raising his chin, Mr. Park’s face came strewn together; eyebrows furrowed and mouth forming a thin, disapproving live. “Is this about my wanting to have you to play in the real leagues?” When Chanyeol failed to respond quickly enough, his father scoffed. “You’re going to give up trying to get that scholarship because you don’t want to play? It’s because you don’t like the fact that I see potential in you to play nationally some day?”

“I’m trying to prove a point to you—”

“And it’s a point that will give you nothing except regret when you see how stupid this point of yours is and how much your mother and I will be struggling to support you and this sham of a career you have in mind.”

He didn’t want to be there anymore, but Chanyeol knew he couldn’t just run off in the middle of a conversation. There was no fear in being reprimanded by his father by doing such a thing. It was only the lack of interest that he had, unwilling to fight a battle that he saw no end to. Although it wouldn’t have been the preferred choice to execute, Chanyeol breached his limit.

Speaking no other word, he rushed up the stairs, shutting the door behind him once he stepped foot in his own room. Immediately dropping his bags, he walked over to the closet, chest heaving, breath quickened, and dug out an old, empty backpack. He took no longer than five minutes to shove a pair of uniforms, shirts, pants, and underwear into the black bag. There was simply no time in his head to think about anything else except to rush to his escape. His hair was disheveled when he arrived at the house, and it stayed that way when he left, leaving no word or explanation to either of his parents, especially his mother who he could see was upset at the father-son feud.

-

-

There was, at least, one form of sanctuary outside Chanyeol’s house. He felt it at Baekhyun’s small two story home, even as he stood outside the waist-high iron gates. Letting himself in, Chanyeol flipped the hinge, closing it once he came through, and walked to the front door. He knocked three times and waited for a minute before he was greeted by Mrs. Byun.

Something in her eyes told Chanyeol that she knew about the situation back at home. Her smile was warm, but there was an unmistaken tone of sadness in the way her eyes failed to light up. Initially, it seemed as though she was about to ask if he wanted to eat, but she judged him by his appearance and changed her priorities. “Baekhyun is upstairs, honey. Why don’t you go get cleaned up first, okay?”

Chanyeol nodded, keeping his eyes down for the feeling that he was intruding and burdening someone else with his presence, but there wasn’t much he could do. He appreciated the Byuns’ open arms and took no second for granted as he climbed upstairs, meeting a surprised brunette who was waiting at the very top.

“I thought I heard your voice,” was the first thing that slipped from Baekhyun’s lips.

The curve of Chanyeol’s mouth lifted, giving Baekhyun a small, lopsided grin. “Surprise.”

Baekhyun let out a small scoff as he put a hand on Chanyeol’s back, leading him to his bedroom down a small hall. “I suppose this is your ‘next time’ that you told me about’.”

“It is.”

The brunette’s eyes drifted, taking in Chanyeol’s appearance and being fully aware that he looked just the same as the last time he had seen him on the bus just an hour or so ago. Knowing that something must have happened, he kept silent for the time as he slipped Chanyeol’s backpack off of him and pulled out a town from a small closet in the hall. “The shower’s across the hall.”

-

-

“So that’s what happened, hm…”

Chanyeol shrugged with his eyes shut. Baekhyun’s face was close to his; so close that he could feel Baekhyun’s soft breathing. His shoulders were slanted downwards as he let his friend dry his hair on the floor knowing that the latter understood his fatigue. Gently, he was dried, and before he knew it, he opened his eyes to the feeling of the damp towel being set around his shoulders.

Baekhyun’s features were lax and Chanyeol wanted to lift a hand and touch his face, to testify whether the boy was as soft as he looked. For a second, he swore Baekhyun’s gaze dropped for a split second, but Chanyeol didn’t cling to the thought. Slender fingers came, making physical contact with his cheek and Chanyeol flinched for a moment before regaining his sense.

“I really don’t like seeing you sad,” Baekhyun confessed; his dark brown eyes bearing through Chanyeol’s. “I don’t think Uncle realizes what he has.”

“He thinks he does,” Chanyeol replied, relaxed as he felt Baekhyun slowly cupping his head with both hands. “It’s trivial, but I’m tired of it.”

There was an intermissive pause, and then, Baekhyun leaned in, pressing his lips against Chanyeol’s.

The kiss did not last long, but just enough for the moment to linger on. Chanyeol felt his chest pound and his body slightly rocking in adrenaline. His eyes locked with Baekhyun’s eyes, which had become hazy and unfocused due to the realization of what he had just done.

There was a voice that told him that he should’ve moved away, but not only could he not with his back against Baekhyun’s bed, Chanyeol also had no desire to. A burning sensation could be felt in his chest and he knew that it wasn’t because of the anger he felt against his father or from the exhilarating practice that had happened hours before. When Baekhyun searched his eyes, he saw that there was no discomfort on Chanyeol’s part and felt a rush of relief run through him.

“If it makes it any better, you’ll never bother me,” the brunette said in low tone. “Whether you want to start your own band to sing about things that you like, or if you decide you want to be that guy who cleans the stalls in high-rise buildings, I don’t care, because, I don’t know if you know it, Park Chanyeol, though I’m sure you do now, but I like you.”

Chanyeol swallowed. His mouth felt dry and his palms were beginning to feel slick. His lifeless arms found no strength to move. He felt limp, unable to exert any force into doing any action, and yet, he was stiff and tense. There was a small moment where he parted his lips when he felt Baekhyun’s hands slowly let go, but no words came out.

For a short second in time, Baekhyun wondered if he had misjudged the look in Chanyeol’s eyes. He understood that the other was treading on air, having had the world ripped from his feet by the single kiss and confession, but in the back of Baekhyun’s mind, he knew—he absolutely knew — that Chanyeol had no ill feeling towards him and towards what he had just done.

“Come on,” the brunette said, nervously laughing as he gently swiped a thumb across Chanyeol’s soft, wet cheek. “Say something.”

Removing his eyes from contact with Baekhyun’s, Chanyeol focused his attention down on the floor. He attempted to speak, but there was a roughness in his throat that prevented him from doing so smoothly the first time that he tried. Swallowing as if to clear way for his voice, Chanyeol spoke, continuing to avoid eye contact despite Baekhyun’s subtle coaxing with his hand. “What am I supposed to say to that?” he managed to say.

The motion of Baekhyun’s thought paused for a short while, but later continued. “Anything,” Baekhyun breathed. “I don’t care what it is. Any response is fine.”

Chanyeol searched the latter’s eyes as if pleading for a hint as to what would satisfy, but found nothing except his own desperate reflection off the dark orbs. He lifted his hands—trembling and unsure—to touch the soft skin of Baekhyun’s face. In the silence, he could hear the brunette take a sharp intake of breath, and it triggered the corner of Chanyeol’s lips to curve upwards. “Thank you.”

An intermittent pause pursued before Baekhyun let out a soft laugh. “Thank you?” His shoulders relaxed, but they continued to appear tense. “You…You’re okay with this? You’re not…you know…”

Chanyeol’s lips tightened for a split second. His racing heart and rushing head were two conflicting forces that resulted in delayed responses, but eventually, he managed to shake his head. “No…” Then, he repeated it again, harder. “No, I’m not. I…I’m okay with it.”

A funny little expression came across the brunette’s face and Chanyeol could see caution written over all of it. “You know,” Baekhyun said as he dropped his gaze for a moment before looking over and meeting the dark brown eyes desperate to find his, “it’s okay to tell me no. I mean, just in case you’re, um, you know, feeling obligated to say that you’re—”

“Baekhyun.”

“Hm?”

“I’m okay with it,” Chanyeol said again.

“Park Chanyeol, I’m giving you another chance to—”

Moving his hands to cup the brunette’s face, Chanyeol pulled them together and slanted his lips over Baekhyun’s. In the past, he had only kissed a few people. To have the courage and boldness to initiate a kiss took Chanyeol out of the universe. Seconds dragged by slowly as if defying all laws of time and relevance, but the moment he felt the latter’s lips curved into a wide grin, a wave of relief washed over him.

Through endless talks on the phone and conversations in the past, Chanyeol was aware of the lip practice Baekhyun managed to bank with multiple people. Never before had he been jealous of that experience until then when Chanyeol felt himself becoming aware of that fact, but as Baekhyun slowly, yet persistently nudged his tongue past Chanyeol’s lips, dipping into the latter’s mouth, all existing train of thoughts vanished.

Shyly, Chanyeol brushed his tongue with Baekhyun’s, though it was all enough to make him blush. He took a sharp inhale of breath at the feel of Baekhyun ragging his hand off his face and down his neck. Then, he advanced, manipulating Chanyeol to move to the side and gradually lay on the ground with his back against the hardwood floors.

No choice was given when Baekhyun removed his lips from Chanyeol’s swollen ones and began to drag along the latter’s neck, making sure to brush his lips against the erect s that jutted from Chanyeol’s shirt. A gasp escaped Chanyeol’s lips as his hands gravitated to tangle his fingers in the curls of Baekhyun’s hair, pulling at them as the latter moved lower and lower until Chanyeol felt a tugging on his boxers.

 

That's it. That's the fic.

Next update: 6/14/2019

Byesss~