“I want a white suit. Black is too...” Baekhyun squints hard at the magazine on his hands, flipping it page by page, “too plain. Boring. Mediocre. Besides it looks more elegant because the place has a dark atmosphere, right?”

He turns to his lover beside him and sighs. Chanyeol’s body is slump next to him, occupying almost the entire space on the couch they are in. “You should at least listen to me as we plan this wedding,” Baekhyun grumbles, wiping the drool on Chanyeol’s face with a handkerchief. “You were the one who insisted on this, anyway,” He whines, though the way he swipes the bangs on Chanyeol’s face says he’s not in the least disappointed. Chanyeol just hums in response.

“Stop doing your night shifts.” Baekhyun whispers, placing a quick peck on the corner of the younger male’s lips. Chanyeol stirs, snaking a hand on Baekhyun’s waist to hold him in place.

“Wedding,” He murmurs sleepily. “Need money for the wedding...”

“You don’t need to shoulder this all by yourself,” Baekhyun grumbles, burying his face on the part where Chanyeol’s shoulders and neck meets. “This is our wedding, that means I’m working hard to have this wedding too,”

Chanyeol opens an eye, followed by the other, smiling as he takes note of Baekhyun’s body entangled over his. “Let’s go home. We’ll fit the white suits tomorrow.”

“You sure you can drive?” Baekhyun asks, “We can ask for coffee or something, or I can drive,”

“Still not letting you drive my Cadillac,” Chanyeol grins, getting up from the couch and raking his fingers through his messy locks.

Baekhyun frowns at him. “Reminds me that I’m only marrying you for your stupidly expensive car,”

Chanyeol winks, wrapping an arm on Baekhyun’s shoulders. “You love me.”

𥯘

It is just one moment of impact, a single drooping of the eyes, that changed everything.

“Chanyeol watch out!”

“What –”

Chanyeol never sees it coming; neither did Baekhyun.

Chanyeol grips the gear, spins it with vicious effort, shouting, “Seatbelt! Baek your seatbelt –” through a haze of panic as the car hits a post, tires spinning on asphalt and the screeching noise of metal rubbing against metal as it tumbles and hits the pavement.

Chanyeol isn’t even given a chance to look over Baekhyun’s face turned upside down, before everything went black and there’s nothing but the faint sound of sirens in the distance.

Anyway if they already see it coming, it wouldn’t have turned out this way, right?

𥯘

The moment the world is re Chanyeol’s vision, he is having a mind-cracking headache. He turns and tosses, clutching on his hair but not really feeling much because everything is covered with ing bandages.

“It’s normal, don’t worry,” A voice soothes, taking his hand to remove his hand from his head. “The painkillers will set in.”

Chanyeol opens his eyes in an abrupt movement, taking in the white surrounding and the beeping machines around him. “Where is Baekhyun?!”

“Where is my Baekhyun?” he sits right up, ignoring the searing pain on his head by just the slightest movement. “Where is Byun Baekhyun –the one in the car with me, where is my boyfr –”

 “He’s alright,” the doctor says, placing both hands on Chanyeol’s shoulders to push him back on the bed. “He’s just on the other room for further observations but he’s alright, he will wake up soon.”

“Baekhyun –” He tries to say but then he feels his energy slipping through his fingers and he’s thrown again in sort of a haze, his eyelids feeling heavy. 

“He’s alright, he’s alright,” The voice says again.

Chanyeol wants to say that nothing is alright if Baekhyun is not by his side, but his eyes are too heavy and his mouth feels numb and his mind just sort of seems like a blank, so he doesn’t.

𥯘

The next day Chanyeol opens his eyes, he vowed not to take bull anymore.

“Where is Baekhyun?!” He barks at the attending nurse who seems to be fixing his dextrose.

The girl pales immediately. “He’s on the other room, sir,” She answers meekly, “I think you should talk to Dr. Junmyeon,” she mumbles before gathering her things to put in a tray, then walking off the room to escape the patient’s heated gaze.

Like what he vowed, he’s not taking bull today. He rips the dextrose from the back of his hand and throws it, letting it dangle from the metal dextrose stand. It stings and bleeds but he ignores all of it. Still on his hospital gown, he climbs out of his bed, feet landing the cold, tiled floor of the hospital.

His first attempt isn’t gracious. He sways and staggers; head still fuzzy from the previous medications. He clutches the steel railing of the bed to get his balance. Clenching his teeth, he shuts his eyes hard in an attempt to get his bearings. After a while, when he’s sure it’s probably good enough to walk without tumbling on the floor face-first, he walks slowly but with big strides, looking ward per ward for the familiar face that will make him believe everything is fine.

Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Centre’s ward is white, sterile, and clean. Everything is a uniform of colour: varying from patient to their respective nurses, to every personnel of every department, down to the maintenance utilities that keep the hospital tidy.

Chanyeol rips every curtain open, earning angry protests from the disturbed patients. He mumbles low apologies ward per ward, bowing his head as low as he can. He feels something wet dripping down his hand but he doesn’t have the heart to care what it is.

Right now, what matters is finding Baekhyun, and Baekhyun alone.

Divine intervention must have taken pity on him. At the end of the long ward of patients, he sees Baekhyun’s familiar figure, dressed in the hospital gown he assumes identical to his.

Chanyeol stands at the end of Baekhyun’s bed, panting, hair dishevelled, and looking like a complete mess altogether. Still, seeing Baekhyun makes everything okay (though he is slightly bewildered).  

“Hi.” Chanyeol says, flashing a wide grin towards Baekhyun, hoping he’s not weirding the elder too much with his big, round eyes and that idiot-looking face of his. Cause you know, once upon a time, Baekhyun is allergic to stupid people.

Baekhyun looks around, hoping the transparent tubes and beeping machines around him could explain everything as it unfolds under his feet, quite literally. He bites his lip; once, twice, thrice until he feels the all-too-familiar sting of rust flowing on his tongue. He turns his head to look at Chanyeol’s expectant face, feeling his stomach turn under the boy’s scrutinizing gaze.

He bites his lower lip again, before answering, “Hi? I guess?” He says, trying to flash an equally wide grin but coming only off as an awkward stretching of the mouth.

“Where’s mom?” Baekhyun asks, turning his head to look around for something like a confirmation. “And dad?” he turns to look at Chanyeol who furrows his eyebrows, mouth set into a thin line.

“You sort of ...” Chanyeol tilts his head to the right, trying to grasp for the right word, “moved out.”

“I did? And where do I live now?” Baekhyun laughs, probably thinking this as another stupid prank Chanyeol is feeding him.

“With me,” Chanyeol’s frown deepens, wrinkles making him look older than his age, “I mean we live together. Baekhyun you don’t –“

Chanyeol’s question hangs between them upon seeing Baekhyun’s creased forehead, thoroughly and utterly confused.

“Live together? Moved out? What?” Baekhyun whips his head from Chanyeol and to someone who just arrived at his side. “I mean, why would I move out? Why are we living together? Chanyeol you’re my best friend!”

“Best friend?” Comes Chanyeol’s incredulous voice, “Baekhyun we live together! We –I –we’re getting ma –”

“Chanyeol,” The doctor behind him says, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Why don’t you let the nurses treat your bleeding hand while I talk things out with Baekhyun?”

“You’re bleeding!” Baekhyun shrieks, pointing at his right hand, bleeding at his side. Chanyeol is too numb to notice.

Chanyeol looks at the doctor; he is kinda short and a bit young for his profession but there’s something about him that radiates a strong sense of cordiality that makes Chanyeol relax a bit. But it isn’t enough to stop Chanyeol from looking like a helpless puppy kicked out by his mother. The doctor gives a warm, reassuring smile before patting the tall man’s back and ushering him out of the ward, “Later,” he says, giving a meaningful look at the younger, a sign that he isn’t open for any more arguments.

The nurses that Chanyeol had only begun to notice now scramble in panic shouting something along the lines of ‘first-aid kit!’ and ‘antiseptic’ and ‘prepare his bed!’ although Chanyeol isn’t really hearing any of it. Instead, he cranes his neck to look at Baekhyun’s horrified face, giving the man a sad smile as he follows the medical assistants that usher him out of the ward.

Something inside him knows; or maybe it is he who knows; or in any way, he just knows, from the confused and bewildered look painted on Baekhyun’s face, is the fact that nothing will be the same anymore, at least from now on.

𥯘

 “The severe concussion in Baekhyun’s head caused damage in Baekhyun’s hippocampus, a part that enables us to store short-term memories; therefore disabling him to remember what happened in the past four years, only remembering –”

The doctor, someone calls himself by the name of Junmyeon, explains something about Baekhyun experiencing a selective retrograde amnesia, which disables him to recall the events from the past four years of his life or something along those lines, Chanyeol doesn’t really wants to listen. Right now, there’s only a single information that imprinted itself inside his head:

 “From the time we started dating,” Chanyeol says, voice grave. He hangs his head between his palms, looking down on the floor.

“Baekhyun is still lucky,” Junmyeon tries to comfort, “that he only lost four years of his memories and not all of it has been wiped out. Or earlier. Some patients aren’t just so lucky; some of them couldn’t even retain a memory for twenty four hours.”

“In this case, I am the one who is unfortunate, aren’t I?” Chanyeol had tried to laugh but droplets of tears starts leaking out of his eyes. He angrily wipes every last bit of droplets with the back of his hand.

“Are you ing kidding me?!” he yells at the doctor, clutching his collar and pinning him on the wall. “Baekhyun would forget everything that we had from the day we started dating each other!”

Junmyeon’s eyes remains sympathetic, making no move to remove the younger male’s hand on his collar or pushing him away now that he’s looming over him. With the kind of stare the doctor is giving, Chanyeol breaks down and sobs, grips on his collar loosening as he slowly drops on the ground, feeling defeated.

“Back to zero –I’m just –I’m just –to him, I’m just his best friend –I” Chanyeol sobs, incoherent words slipping from his mouth.

“It’s not as bad as you think, Chanyeol,” Junmyeon says, dropping down beside Chanyeol’s pitiful form, pulling his arms up to stand.

 “Those four years of memories are nothing compared to the amount of memories the two of you can make on the incoming years,”

Chanyeol lifts his eyes to look at Junmyeon.

“I’m sure he can love you just the same as ever.”

𥯘

The next time Chanyeol and Baekhyun meets, they are more stable than the last time.

Baekhyun is sitting at the edge of the bed, feet dangling because his feet can’t reach the floor. His head is bent down, fingers twiddling with the white linens of the bed. He’s out of the hospital gown now; replaced by a pair of clothes Chanyeol is not very much familiar with.

“Hey,” Chanyeol greets, placing the bag he’s been carrying beside the bed and sitting on the stool reserved for every guardians.

“Hey,” Baekhyun looks up, giving a small smile towards Chanyeol’s direction.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Better,” Baekhyun nods, struggling to keep a smile plastered on his face. Chanyeol notices the effort and his face falls. The taller male eyes the patient curiously, observing the boy blatantly. Baekhyun draws back on his thin sweater, hoping it would give him some sort of asylum from Chanyeol’s rather disturbing gaze.

He sighs. “What?”

“How’d you got those clothes?” Chanyeol blurts, narrowing thick brows in deep thought.

Baekhyun facepalms. Since when is his best friend this attentive? He wonders if those four years had changed Chanyeol so much. If it did: just how much? Is he ready to accept the changes that occurred for the last years? The thought brings goose bumps on his skin; he wraps his arms around him silently. Chanyeol, again, notices. As if the thick cashmere he’s wearing that he wraps around Baekhyun’s small frame isn’t any indication.

“You seem cold,” he murmurs on Baekhyun’s head.

“Thanks,” Baekhyun answers, blushing. “Mom came and brought these clothes,”

“Oh.”

Silence.

It is Chanyeol’s moment to get embarrassed. He fiddles with his long digits, thinking that he can probably grow his fingernails now that he won’t be able to leave marks on Baekhyun’s waist that can hurt him; they don’t look as if they’re going to have anytime soon.

Baekhyun watches Chanyeol with slight amusement mixed with confusion. Chanyeol had grown to be a pretty young man. Who would have thought that a scrawny, clumsy and an unconventionally disconcerted kid would grow into a fine-looking and responsible man albeit retaining his stupidity? Baekhyun tries to picture himself here, with this man, wrapped in his arms, fingers twiddling at the lock of curls at the back of his neck, lips attached to each other, and quite frankly, it’s not hard; not at all; no. Because if he thinks about it, it all seems so natural –every touch, every hug, every loving look in the eyes –it’s all natural; as natural as the heaving of your chest up and down, as natural as blinking your eyes without even noticing it. And that, he thinks, is where the problem occurs. Because everything seems so natural with Chanyeol around that he can’t get to see something special when it comes to their relationship. It’s almost customary, not obligatory but a routine already –something they can’t not do because they are friends, they are best friends, and the things they do for each other, around each other, are all written in the book of friendship. They do everything in the name of friendship, and to Baekhyun, that’s all there’s to it. Or at least that’s what he remembers.

Chanyeol sighs, gathering courage to speak his mind because everything is so ing weird. Everything, since the accident is so damn weird. It’s like as if he had woken up with amnesia, too. Everything is not the same around Baekhyun, and Baekhyun is all there is to him, which means everything involving Baekhyun affects him too. Hell, there wasn’t a single moment when silence expands up to two sec when they were together. Chanyeol doesn’t think; he just acts on impulse. To Chanyeol, everything around Baekhyun is an impulse. He doesn’t have to think because the older male is there to gather his .

“Seems like I’m not really needed here after all,” Chanyeol starts, trying for a lighter tone and a casual smile, “It’s good to know that you feel better. Are your parents going to pick you up?”

“No,”

“No? Then I’ll take you home then –”

“No.” Baekhyun repeats firmly, looking Chanyeol in the eyes. “I’ll go home with you,”

“You will?”

“If I need to recall things then I have to go back to my usual routines, right?” Baekhyun presses and Chanyeol merely nods because how can he argue with something like this when he knows he wants this himself.

They pause for a while neither not knowing what else is there to say. Before, silence between them is golden, a break from intense stupidity and inanity. But now, silence between the two of them isn’t even awkward –it’s awful.

“Brief me with the things I missed first,” Baekhyun mumbles. Chanyeol raises an eyebrow. “We don’t want a rerun of last time, right? It’ll benefit the both of us if I don’t freak out,” The amnesiac explains.

“Okay,” Chanyeol nods, moving his long legs to the side so it would fit the small space between the stool and the bed. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” Baekhyun says gravely. Chanyeol just nods because he understands.

He starts with the “Baekhyun we’re now living together,” and “Baekhyun you’re a music major,” then “Baekhyun your parents are not in the city with you,”, “Baekhyun –

“Tell me another thing that I already know and you’re going to get a blow in the head,” Baekhyun interrupts, frowning at Chanyeol hard. Chanyeol’s face falls, “What do I tell you then? Nothing really changed except for the fact that we’re sort of, living together and that you work a late night shift in the run-down club on the second alley before reaching Circus Disco –”

“Wait, what? I do? I mean, I work in a bar?”

“Actually, we do,” Chanyeol nods, his chin, “I do the rap part and you sing,”

“Oh.” Baekhyun breathes; this is clearly news to him.

“Yeah,”

“Whose idea is it?” Baekhyun asks, still overwhelmed and very much confused. “I mean, who decided I should work?”

Chanyeol frowns. “Well, one day you woke up and just decided to stop being lazy and help your poor boyfriend in your and his daily expenses,” He laughs, rekindling memory with a fond glint on his eyes. Baekhyun observes him quietly, frowning. “You work too?”

Chanyeol scratches the back of his neck. “Well, yeah,”

“What do you do?” Baekhyun seems incredulous. Chanyeol laughs. “I hear your brain there, mister. Yes, I work. I can do something without tripping on my very long legs, thank you very much,”

Baekhyun reddens. “That’s good then,” He mumbles. “At least you’re not the wimp and clingy kid from before –”

“I’m still clingy.”

“Okay,” Baekhyun mumbles, rolling his eyes.

“Kyungsoo and Sehun are now together,” Chanyeol says, seeming to suddenly remember something.

“They are always together,” Baekhyun comments, the urge to roll his eyes overwhelming. He tries not doing so but fails nonetheless.

“For real, I mean,” Chanyeol explains, clearly aware of what Baekhyun is pointing. “Quoting him, he says, ‘Kyungsoo-hyung means so much to me than I let on, I realized I can’t live without him’ and ‘no-strings-attached just won’t work with him because we basically just belong to each other’ and some other ,”

Baekhyun makes a face. “Eww, mushy,”

“I know right? And Han-hyung and Yixing-hyung are sort of...”

“Sort of?”

“Married.”

“Okay?” Baekhyun squints. “And?”

“Their parents’ don’t have a single idea about it,” Chanyeol announces gravely, his face darkening.

Baekhyun shakes his head. “Oh dear god.” He mutters.

Chanyeol continues to brief Baekhyun with the things that happened for the last four years, Baekhyun sending snarky comments once in a while and Chanyeol just grinning, looking plain dumb.

Eventually, they decided that a hospital isn’t a place they should be talking things out. Baekhyun starts to get up. “We should head home now,”

“Are you tired?” Chanyeol asks, biting his lip tentatively, seeming nervous.

 “No, not really, why?”

“Nothing,” Chanyeol mumbles, looking down and getting the bag he brought with him. “Come on,”

He lets Baekhyun walk in front of him, following with small, tentative steps. No longer than reaching the admission section, Baekhyun whirls around, catching Chanyeol off-guard, “Okay, what is it?”

Chanyeol’s shoulders are slumped and there are ugly circles under his eyes. His natural rosy cheeks are pale and he isn’t flashing his dazzling white pearls. Suddenly, Baekhyun is aware of how stressed Chanyeol might have been with everything and being mean to him just because he doesn’t understand their concept of ‘dating’ is just daunting.

He’s mustering an apology but somehow Chanyeol’s eyes irritatingly trained on him like he is the best thing in this world makes the small ‘sorry’ get stuck on his throat so he settled with, “Never mind,” moving forward fast, as if wanting to just leave everything behind.

They reached Chanyeol’s car, a secondhand gray Sedan that is nothing compared to his original black one but is still better than nothing. Baekhyun immediately freezes in front of it. “How in the world I’m still working if you have a Sedan?”

Chanyeol grins, all signs of anxiety dissipating as Baekhyun sees the familiar blinding rows of teeth. He grins back.

“You didn’t mention this before,” Baekhyun says in disbelief. Chanyeol’s grin only widens. (if that’s even possible)

“What else should I know about?”

“That we’re not living an apartment as grand as my car?”

Baekhyun smacks Chanyeol in the head (he had to tiptoe because Chanyeol is tall okay), and runs toward the passenger seat of the car. Chanyeol follows after.

“And we purposely got single bedroom so all of our stuffs are mostly crammed into that one room,” Chanyeol explains.

Baekhyun opens the car with his left hand.

“And Baekhyun?” Chanyeol trails, not really knowing how to begin saying this one very important thing Baekhyun should be hearing.

“Yes?”

“We’re sort of,” Chanyeol bites his bottom lip before looking Baekhyun in the eyes, “getting married.”

Baekhyun’s face gives a pure manifestation of terror, some sort of a rat trapped in a lab to be experimented. He takes a step back and loses his balance, about to trip; had not Chanyeol pulls his arm to keep him steady. Baekhyun opens his mouth to speak but his voice is trapped on the walls of his throat so Chanyeol answers the question Baekhyun would have probably ask had not his voice betrayed him. “Four months,”

“Four months from now before the wedding,”

[A/N]: This was supposed to be a oneshot but then it got too complicated and I just had to split this into three parts and this is a one boring chapter and i promise the next one would be better and angstier and Kai will enter the picture and why the hell am I revealing the plot to youuuuu. comments are loved. /slapped