Except Chanyeol was stupid and didn’t get Baekhyun’s number and they hadn’t seen each other for a whole week and truly, Chanyeol needed another drink.

He called out for another shot, drummed his fingers on the counter and then put his forehead down on the cold surface. Was this how widows felt? Or was this how women felt when they waited for their husbands to come back from war? Was Chanyeol a wife now? Was that his life now? Would he wait for a sign of life from Baekhyun forever now? Why couldn’t they just have world peace so Baekhyun didn’t have to fight with weapons of glitter and glow and just cuddle with Chanyeol forever instead?

"Man, you got it so bad," Jongdae said, sitting next to him but not really sitting next to him. He was sitting there because a pretty blond woman was sitting on his other side. Chanyeol hoped she was a cuddle monster and would make Jongdae’s life a living hell.

He grabbed his shot as soon as the bartender put it in front of him and downed it, scrunching his face and putting the glass back down with a loud thud, body slumping forward.

"You don’t understand Jongdae. You don’t understand," he said, shaking his head. Or was it a finger. He opened his eyes. It was a hand that he was shaking. His hand. Had his hand always been so big? He had big hands. Why wouldn’t Baekhyun hold his hand already? 

"I sure don’t," Jongdae said, belching a snort. Belching. That damn word. As annoying as Jongdae’s lack of empathy for Chanyeol’s situation. He was dying. He needed cuddles. He needed Baekhyun’s cuddles.

"You don’t," he said, tapping his hand against the counter. He felt pain in his forehead. When had his hand switched place with his forehead? If Baekhyun wanted to hold his forehead instead of his hand, Chanyeol would happily allow him to. Once he came back from war. Baekhyun would look so good in a pink, beady, glittery uniform. "He’s so pretty," he sighed, or groaned, or belched. He wasn’t sure. But what he knew was that— "He’s so so pretty. Pretty eyes. Pretty nails. Pretty glitter. Pretty glittery boop on the nose. So pretty, Jongdae, so pretty."

"Who’s pretty?"

Chanyeol almost fell off his chair when he whipped around. His eyes almost fell off his head when they finally saw the soldier they’d been waiting to meet for years. 

"Baekhyun?" Chanyeol questioned, choking up. He’d been waiting for this moment for ages. 

He was back. His sparkly soldier was back from war. He stood there, in front of him. And he looked so happy to see Chanyeol too, with is big, big cheeks and his big, big smile. Chanyeol almost fell off the face of the planet when he threw himself at Baekhyun, wrapping his arms around his torso. But Baekhyun was a trained soldier, a triumphant soldier now and he caught Chanyeol by the shoulders.The front didn’t seem to be that bad of a place. Baekhyun looked very magnificent.

Chanyeol rubbed his cheek against the pillowy chest he was hugging. It wasn’t pillowy, pretty hard in fact. But he felt like he was laying on a cloud and no, he wasn’t dead yet, Baekhyun came to save him at the last moment which could only mean one thing. Baekhyun was a cloud. A cloud that quivered with laughter.

Chanyeol pulled away just enough to see the laugh on his face. He felt the smile on his own face, cheeks rocky, lips pressed together, eyes melting with tenderness as he looked at the nebula of purple on Baekhyun’s eyelids. Or burgundy. Or red. No, no definitely burgundy. Or something. Whatever it was on his eyelids, it was breathtaking. He had stars on the inner corners of his eyes, actual stars. Two more under each of his eyebrows. Glistening stars, glossy stars. Chanyeol couldn’t believe Baekhyun had fought the war in the milky way.

"Where were you," he mumbled, chin digging into Baekhyun’s chest when he stretched his last word in a whine.

He felt a hand patting his hair. It was a feather-light touch. Cloudy. Baekhyun’s hand.

"Well, I was working," he said, smiling down at him and Chanyeol couldn’t believe Baekhyun had gone up to a place full of stars but still chose to came back down here to smile at Chanyeol. They were truly husbands, nothing could separate them.

Except Baekhyun’s wars. 

"I waited for you for so long," he said, voice wilting, lips pulping into a pout. He sniffled and hid his face against Baekhyun’s chest. "You’re so mean to me."

"You cutie," Chanyeol heard, very clearly because the music in this bar was very low, enough to be heard without overpowering conversations. He looked up to Baekhyun again and he was rewarded with fluff against his cheek. Warm fluff. A palm. "I’m here now, aren’t I?"

"Great," Chanyeol perked up with a grin, pulling away from Baekhyun. He heard a snort. Jongdae’s. He decided to ignore his mean best friend and grab Baekhyun’s hand instead. "We have lots of cuddling to catch up on."

He got up and started tugging on Baekhyun’s hand but Baekhyun tugged right back and Chanyeol stumbled against him, losing his footing. His very strong, very cute soldier once again caught him with an arm around his waist.

"Wait, let me order a drink first and then I’ll follow you wherever you want."

Of course. How could Chanyeol say no to that. He couldn’t. He waited for Baekhyun’s drink with him, grabbing his hand again and pulling it away from his waist to hold it properly. He studied the beauty of Baekhyun’s features while he talked to Jongdae about this and that. Chanyeol didn’t listen. The beauty’s call was too strong for him to pay attention to anything else.

Soon enough, Baekhyun got his drink and Chanyeol pulled him to an empty booth where they comfortably sat down. Baekhyun put his drink down after a sip and Chanyeol instantly huddled close to him, raising his arm by the hand to wrap it around his own shoulder so he could nestle properly against him. With a sigh of content, he closed his eyes. The music was even lower here, it made the melody of Baekhyun’s laugh the only aria Chanyeol could offer his ears to. His ears were very happy and so was his hair when Baekhyun’s fingers played with it.

"You’re not wearing glitter on your eyes today," Chanyeol noted with a faint hint of regret. Glitter looked so flattering on Baekhyun.

"Nope," was the perky sound Baekhyun emitted. "But it’s on my face instead."

Chanyeol pulled away at once, straightening up to look at him. Baekhyun proudly showed his cheek to him, moving his head just a little, enough for light to catch on the highest point of his cheek. Chanyeol blinked at the peachy glow laid on the smoothness of his skin, the sparkles scattered around so fine it looked like they were freckled into the skin itself. It was bright. So pretty. So lucent. So precious. 

Chanyeol let out a sound of astonishment and leaned closer, taking in the tiny tiny stars on Baekhyun’s cheek better.

"You’re a diamond," he breathed out in amazement. 

Only diamonds could be so pretty and sparkly and sleek. Baekhyun was a diamond. Not only was he a soldier but he was a diamond. He was so, so precious and Chanyeol wrapped his arms around his shoulders, squeezing him and resting his forehead against the side of Baekhyun’s head.

"What are you doing?" Baekhyun laughed, still in his hold but not rigid. He tilted to snuggle closer into Chanyeol’s embrace.

"You’re a precious gem," Chanyeol explained, protectively cupping Baekhyun’s jaw. "A precious burgundy gem. I can’t let people steal you. What if they try to sell you and I can’t find you ever again?"

Baekhyun laughed again. Chanyeol made him laugh again. Chanyeol made Baekhyun laugh. Made him happy, perhaps. Merriment flowered in his stomach, its petals tickling fuzziness in his core.

"Why are you particularly cute tonight?" Baekhyun asked, pulling away to look at him. Chanyeol’s hold went limp around him. Because he looked so dazzling. The glow on the tip of his nose. Chanyeol wanted to kiss it. "Is it because I’m sober?"

Chanyeol huffed. "I’m always particularly cute," he affirmed, nodding. Though, he supposed after seeing himself in the mirror so much, it was hard for Baekhyun to find anyone else cute. Chanyeol could relate. He hadn’t found anyone but Baekhyun cute ever since he’d first met him. 

Baekhyun was his definition of cute now. Whenever he saw the word ‘cute’ in a text he was supposed to translate, he’d use ‘Baekhyun’ now. Baekhyun was the most accurate, universal translation of ‘cute’ now.

"That is very true, you are," Baekhyun said, patting his thigh. Chanyeol’s thigh was a good boy. It deserved all the pats and the love. He was glad Baekhyun thought so too. Baekhyun looked down at where his hand lay on his thigh and tilted his head, humming. "Can I lay on your lap? I’m a little tired."

Chanyeol’s head morphed into a smile. He shook the smile by nodding.

"Sure! I can braid your hair."

"Do you even know how to do that?" Baekhyun asked, giving him a suspicious smile. A smile. Always such a mesmerizing smile.

Chanyeol’s smile nodded again. "Of course. I have a sister. She always forced me to braid her hair. She’s so mean to me. But I’ll happily braid your hair, Baekhyun."

Baekhyun’s smile tilted down until it was bellow Chanyeol’s face and laid on his thigh instead. The stars stuck around his eyes were beautified by the angle.

Chanyeol kept staring at those stars as he spoke to Baekhyun, updating him about his life. He told him about how his sister used to steal his mother’s makeup and he’d always join in because lipsticks were so funny. He told him about Jongdae’s affinity to blonde women. Baekhyun told him blonde looked really great on him, looked very happy on him.

Baekhyun wanted to dye his hair pink one day but was too busy to do it. Chanyeol assured him he’d look amazing, whether he did it tomorrow or in five years. Baekhyun told him he worked with so many people who had damaged hair that sometimes, it scared him just a little to dye his hair. Chanyeol shared his sadness about not being able to read books for his own pleasure anymore, because he read so much while translating that he just hated words by the end of his days.

Chanyeol braided his hair. A mini braid, tiny and thin that he weaved toge