CHAPTER 6

There are moments when Baekhyun questions his sanity. Back there, what he did makes another one of those moments. Dried tears staining his cheeks, Baekhyun stumbles down the halls by physical memory and nothing more – in fact even his vision is hazy and all he considers is that there must be a caged animal inside his chest because his heart is pounding as if it is frantic and unwillingly there. These thoughts blur the clarity in Baekhyun's mind until he rounds a corner to what he thinks is his dorm room when he crashes into a strolling body.

“Hey,” the body says. Baekhyun lowers his gaze and mutters an apology but feels the blood in his veins freeze when he hears the voice continue, “Look who it is.”

“Sehun,” he gasps, head shooting up to reveal widened eyes. “Sorry,” he says; out of habit or otherwise, he isn’t so sure anymore. The real surprise comes when the boy beside him moves ahead of him to unlock the door, and it’s only then that Baekhyun looks up to read the dorm’s label indicating Yixing’s room number and not his own.

“Come in,” Chen says, stepping through the door and slipping out of his shoes. The way he moves reminds Baekhyun of a cat – slow, but graceful in his connected movements.

“No, that’s okay – I didn’t mean to come here. I’m sorry,” he tries, but Sehun simply laughs and nudges a basketball into his back to push him in.

“What are you so nervous about?” he says.

“Sit,” Chen adds, taking off his uniform jacket. When he slips out of his shirt, Baekhyun looks away. “That’s your friend’s. I’m sure he’d be fine with you sitting there.”

He nods his head at the bed across the one he is climbing into and settles comfortably there.

Baekhyun thinks of protesting, but his energy has been thoroughly depleted already so he sits at the edge of the sheets without another word. He sits there and doesn’t blink, not even when Sehun makes himself comfortable next to Chen and leans against the wall to stare at him, not when the boy decides to throw his basketball centimeters from his face, either. There is no explanation as to why the two find the ordeal entertaining, but Chen doesn’t move a muscle as Sehun continues to throw the basketball at the wall behind Baekhyun’s head, catching it when the ball bounces back to him then throwing it again. It’s a couple of hours of this until the rhythm and momentum of the movement numb Baekhyun’s senses and he sits there so dumbly that he doesn’t even notice the door’s lock clicking with the sound of Yixing’s arrival.

“Baekhyun, what are you doing here at this time?” his old friend asks as soon as he recognizes him, blinking in confusion as he sets his backpack down by the door. “It’s past curfew.”

Baekhyun glances across the room and Sehun allows a half-smile, a shrug, a dismissal.

“I just... wanted to say hi,” he says, standing. He avoids Yixing’s gaze as he walks toward the door, head down and spirits ready to collapse along with his physical state.

“It's nice to finally see you today but you should really get going now. The floor leaders will do room checks soon,” Yixing tells him softly, and Baekhyun nods.

When the older pats his back as a means of goodnight and closes the door behind him, Byun Baekhyun runs to his dorm.

30 minutes. That’s how long Chanyeol has been bruising his hand into the lone tree in his secret garden. Five hard punches per minute makes 150 in the span he has been spacing out. Poor tree, and he knows Kris will freak when he shows up to rehearsal with his hand discolored beyond recognition, but he doesn’t have much of a choice because being idle gets him thinking about the night before and the physical pain is an effective distraction.

Even with the distraction though, Chanyeol knows he has things to sort out – things to apologize for, messes to clean up. It’s just a matter of figuring out how. He can almost feel his grandmother nudging him to stand up and take action as he frets over what to do, because as much as he would like to forget about the whole situation, he does have some decency. That is the sole reason he is checking his phone through gritted teeth and swollen fingers every five minutes to make sure he is running on the right time, and also why he is lingering outside of Mrs. Kwon’s classroom like a toddler serving time-out with no plan in mind but no intention to leave, either.

The bell rings on schedule and the students flood out of the classroom accordingly, but Chanyeol misses the chance to slip in unnoticed so he makes a break for the emergency exit staircase down the hall before anyone recognizes him, thunking the back of his head against the wall as he mutters frustrations under his breath. Four times he leaves the staircase to walk down the hall towards the classroom, but each time he turns on his heel before he even travels half the distance. It is only until the end of Baekhyun’s TA session, hours later after the sun has set, that his pride has been tethered and worn down enough that he can stand outside of the classroom door again.

“Don’t you even eat?” Chanyeol says as Baekhyun steps out and closes the door of Mrs. Kwon’s classroom behind him. The boy turns to him with the usual look of surprise on his face, but this time he doesn’t jump. He still looks to the floor though, a very Baekhyun thing to do, yet something about this seems just as strange. It’s more of a measured nonchalance than it is an act of fear, and the boy’s downcast eyes make Chanyeol feel like he is a bother more than anything else.

“No,” he replies, adjusting the straps of his backpack. “There’s no one to eat with since Yixing hyung is busy.”

Chanyeol opens his mouth to say “I don’t care,” or something just as bitter even if he did ask, but neither that nor the explanation he had prepared to give Baekhyun about the previous night moves from the base of his throat. Instead, all that comes out is a horrible “So… did you mark me present?”

Baekhyun pauses his movements at this, sighs a tiny exhale, then turns to him. “Yes,” he answers.

“...Good,” Chanyeol says, but oddly enough the conversation sounds more like he is being reprimanded when he is the one towering over the boy. He frowns and attempts to say something more with confidence in his voice, but before he can even consider what to say next, Baekhyun is walking the opposite way down the hall.

“Hey,” he calls, just loudly enough for Baekhyun to hear. When the boy ignores him, Chanyeol jogs up to him and grabs his wrist, twists him around so that they're facing each other again.

“You didn’t let me finish,” he says, letting out a heavy breath.

“If this is about your assignments, you don’t have to worry because I’m completing them diligently. I’ll have them all in by the due date,” Baekhyun tells him, then attempts to walk away again. This time, Chanyeol steps in front of him to block his path.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says, a frustrated hand running through his caramel-colored fringe. He sighs, then struggles out, “Just… just come with me, alright?”

And before Baekhyun can slip away for good, Chanyeol grabs his wrist again to pull him in the opposite direction. Thankfully, the boy doesn’t argue further.

“Take it,” Chanyeol says, glancing in the other direction as if to avoid the questioning look on Baekhyun’s face. The lunch lady who adores him most had agreed to get “this guy” a late fix of dinner and now holds a tray out for one of them to grab. At the command, Baekhyun glances at Chanyeol’s hands and notes that they are balled into weak fists in front of him, bruises and cuts evident in the light that pours out of the open cafeteria door despite his efforts to shrink them to a dismissible size. After thanking the cafeteria lady for the meal, he looks into the guitarist’s eyes, but Chanyeol darts his gaze away again and sits on the steps, killing the conversation before it takes root.

“Thank you,” Baekhyun says, this time to Chanyeol. He sits down next to him and eats his meal quietly, and strangely, Chanyeol doesn’t leave. Instead, he runs his fingers over the bumps of his knuckles over and over again absentmindedly, never glancing in Baekhyun’s direction but acknowledging his presence all the same. He doesn’t speak either and Baekhyun eyes his wounds just as quietly, only breaking the silence once he finishes eating.

“You should, uhm... wait here,” he says, placing the empty tray on the cold step he is sitting on. “I’ll be right back.”

Without waiting for an answer, Baekhyun runs to the nurse’s office to get a tub of ice, ointment, tweezers, a needle, and some cotton bandages. Yesterday, something had snapped inside of him, a sort of barrier broken, and presently he finds that focusing on one small task at a time lessens the amount of hesitations in his mind when it comes to translating ideas to action. As he is sprinting back to the cafeteria’s back entrance, Baekhyun realizes something about his self-consciousness as well: it isn’t so evident anymore; at least not when it comes to Chanyeol. Maybe it is because the guitarist has seen the lowest of him already and Baekhyun is no longer afraid of pit bottom. Every moment they are together, however, he grows more and more certain that Chanyeol’s intentions aren’t as ill as he displays them to be.

When he arrives at the back entrance, Baekhyun sighs because the guitarist has disappeared along with the tray he had left on the steps earlier. And he discovers yet another thing about himself then, because instead of walking back to his dorm, he runs to Chanyeol’s.

“Kris?”

Yixing prods his head into his tutee’s view and stares inquisitively until the drummer notices his close proximity and snaps out of his reverie. They meet eyes, and Kris pauses for a second before apologizing for his trance.

“Is something on your mind?” Yixing asks, propping an elbow on the desk to cup his cheek.

“It’s nothing,” Kris answers, offering a smile. “I’m just a little concerned about my friend; he didn’t show up to band practice today and our main vocal had a freakout over it, so...” He chuckles lightly.

“If you want to end early, that’s fine – we can just have a longer session tomorrow to make up for what we couldn’t do today," Yixing says. "Maybe you need some rest.”

“No, it’s fine, really. We can continue,” the tutee assures, and Yixing looks into his eyes to receive a firm answer. He smiles when he finds truth in Kris’ words and nods.

“Okay then,” he says, “maybe we should go ahead and start the titration section?” As he is sliding the chemistry textbook closer to Kris, however, he is interrupted.

“Kris?”

This time, the drummer looks up to find a disheveled and panting Baekhyun with a tub of medical supplies in hand.

“Baekhyun,” Yixing calls, “What’s going on?”

“Hi hyung,” the boy answers, then continues with bated breath, “Uhm, you see, Chanyeol – Kris’ bandmate – he got hurt so I was trying to help him but he uh, disappeared, so I tried to reach him at his dorm but he locked the door, which is why I'm here... to ask if Kris could look after his wrist instead?”

“That bastard,” Kris sighs, “I told him he should have gotten it looked at. Of course he didn’t listen; if he did he wouldn’t be the same stubborn Chanyeol.”

“I’ll just leave these here for you to take when you head back to your dorm,” Baekhyn says, setting down the tub on the seat across the drummer and Yixing. “I think he would feel more comfortable if you were to offer them.”

Kris hands him his dorm keys, however, and shakes his head. “He’ll never let me bandage him up. You go and do it.”

Eyes wide, Baekhyun opens his mouth to object but Kris nods him along.

“Trust me, even though he seems like an independent guy, Chanyeol’s actually helpless on his own. He’ll never admit that to me though, so it’s you or nobody. If you're worried about him biting, you don't need to because he never means any harm.”

“But…” Baekhyun starts, but Kris smiles at him so he takes a deep breath and closes his hand around the keys. Biting his lower lip, he hoists the tub back up in his arms. “I’ll... try."

"Thanks," Kris says.

“Chanyeol?” someone with a much softer voice than Kris says. Frowning, the guitarist lifts his head and looks to the door where an unexpected visitor is standing.

“What are you doing here?” he grumbles when he recognizes the familiar shadow of Baekhyun, “Get out.”

The room falls silent and Chanyeol attempts to feign sleep, but the clock’s ticking suddenly grows louder and his own breath echoes in his ears to fill the void so he sighs and sits up.

“What do you want?” he asks, glaring at the boy. Baekhyun purses his lips and walks toward him, setting down a red tub filled with ice and what looks like a first aid kit on the floor. He then sits cross-legged by his feet and looks up at him.

“I promise it won’t take long,” he assures, taking out a pair of tweezers and a needle from the white box. Those cursed slanted eyes stare back at him expectantly, waiting for his hand.

“What are you going to do with that needle? I don’t like things going through my ski–,” Chanyeol tries to argue, but a hand wraps around his own and before he knows it, Baekhyun is pulling it closer to him; an act that shuts him up because the pressure is tight around his wounds and it hurts. Concealing a wince, Chanyeol exhales as Baekhyun pricks the back of his hand.

“That hurts – what are you doing?” he says through gritted teeth, but the boy doesn’t answer. He just leans in close to his hand and continues to poke him with the blasted needle, eyebrows knitted in concentration as he takes the tweezers and pulls splinters out of the back of his hand – splinters that had been invisible to Chanyeol just a few minutes ago. When the boy blows cool air over it, Chanyeol’s gaze shifts from his hand to Baekhyun’s face but he doesn’t stare long enough to map out his features because the next thing the darned homework machine does is wipe his wounds with rubbing alcohol.

It’s not like Chanyeol is necessarily afraid of medical procedures, but he has always done a great deal of internal fidgeting whenever he was in the doctor’s office as a child. As Baekhyun reaches the cuts on his knuckles, Chanyeol is reminded exactly why.

“Take it easy, will you?” he says, hissing in pain. Baekhyun apologizes and cuts the disinfecting short, letting his skin dry before applying ointment to the red patches dotting messy patterns across the back of his hand and wrist. Chanyeol’s frown eases out, however, as the boy dabs lightly to spread the white gel and as the seconds pass, gentle on Baekhyun’s watch, his palm starts to tingle with the sudden consciousness of the other’s skin touching his own. Baekhyun doesn’t seem to be bothered by it or to even notice the sensation, but Chanyeol coughs and pulls away.

“I can do this stuff myself... What are you, my girlfriend?” he mutters, and he doesn’t know why the second half of his sentence feels so strange on his tongue, but Baekhyun misses this just as easily as he misses their physical contact and looks up at him once again.

“You should wrap your hand with the bandage before you sleep,” he says, “I brought ice for an ice bath but it’s getting late so you should try it tomorrow. I’ll empty this and bring it back to you so you can refill it when you need it.”

Baekhyun stands with the red tub, but Chanyeol stops him with his other hand. “Leave it,” he says, and when their eyes meet, Chanyeol hesitates for a second. “I’ll… take care of it so just go.”

Baekhyun’s gaze falls on the hand on his wrist, and Chanyeol pulls it back as if he has been scalded.

“… Okay,” Baekhyun replies, though with a significantly reduced volume. He sets the tub down on the desk beside the bed and turns to leave, but before he can walk past the door, Chanyeol pushes stubborn words out of his mouth.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, apprehensively watching as Baekhyun’s head turns to him. “And… and thanks. For this.”

Chanyeol lifts his bruised hand, discolored even further under the night light, and the ticking of his alarm clock pauses along with Baekhyun, who slowly smiles. Or maybe it’s just that he doesn’t hear the clock anymore, because there is a faint buzzing of white noise in his mind and it’s the only sound he can pick up as Baekhyun gives him a tiny wave before closing the door behind him.

Christ, he thinks. And throughout the night, he can’t stop asking the empty air what kind of person Byun Baekhyun really is.

The strangest part is, he really does want to find out.

  Author's Notes  

First thing's first - I am so sorry for this super delayed update (I'm not sure how many of you even remember what went on in the previous 5 chapters) but I am here now and I will be here to update for at least the next two chapters, which I have already mapped out. I've shared this on my twitter (@elepantstears) so those of you who follow me there should have been informed already.

Second! Today/yesterday (stupid timezone differences + it's 4:40am right now so I've lost all concept of dates for the moment) is my honorable dolly unnie lynnryan's birthday, so I would like to dedicate this chapter to her ;u; She's the one who made the artwork for this story and her love for baekyeol is seriously amazing so go check out her work at Baekyeol Heaven and more! She's super supportive of everything I do and treats me like I'm her real younger sister so I'm always thankful for everything she does ♥ I love you dolly unnie! #POTADUO

Third! (I know, super long author's note - Heidi, get to the point OTL) I mentioned in the previous chapter, but there is a mini quiz/contest going on for this fic! And the question for you guys to answer is: What do the letters in the title spell out? The letters revealed so far are F O R B I D, and here's a hint: The whole title spells out a 3 word phrase! The first person to comment (or PM, or tweet me) the correct answer will receive a watercolor chibi fanart made by yours truly along with a surprise gift ^^ Just a head's up that I'll be needing your address, by the way.

fOURTH! YES, THERE'S MORE! Along with the speed giveaway above, I'm hosting a larger giveaway to commemorate my 4,000 unique subs on asianfanfics for all my readers so you should check it out here if you want to enter! I'm giving away EXO and DBSK goods and lots of other fun stuff so pay a visit~ ^^

And with that, I will officially sign off! Thank you for being so patient everyone, and sorry that I have a horrible habit of abandoning my chaptered fics until motivation/inspiration suddenly slaps me across the face again :') Hopefully I will be back soon though. Until next time!

--- serendipity-- (Heidi)