Chanyeol has never been able to say no.

He’s always been eager to please, and always at the cost of his own happiness.  Still, there’s a little masochistic aspect of his heart that always feels warm and virtuous at his self-sacrifice, keeping him yielding and pliant in the face of the desires of others, heedless of boundaries or reciprocation.

A smaller part of him, one he keeps as far back and silent as possible, craves acknowledgement of his gifts.  But Chanyeol understands the way of the world, so he largely ignores the tiny needling voice in the back of his mind that cries for recognition.  He’s barely aware of his boundless solicitousness and the resultant parasitic relationships it brings on, and each time it falls through, it leaves him a little more heartbroken and a little more convinced that he’s not giving enough.

And worst of all, it seems that the harder he tries, the less it matters.  Each failure makes him more determined to prove himself to the next one, and when his mind and heart finally decide on something he does truly want, he stays away, because he’s only there to be wanted and used, never to have.

Kris never uses Chanyeol.  In fact, Kris is the only one Chanyeol can lean on, and he does so gladly, because some days he feels that weariness all the way to his soul.  Kris never asks anything of Chanyeol but his friendship, and that’s what makes Chanyeol want him so badly.  He’s desperate to prove himself to Kris, to give, but Kris never opens himself to the possibility, so Chanyeol keeps it hidden.  He knows better than to foist his affection on someone who doesn’t want it.

The other group members don’t use Chanyeol either—not really; and if they do, Chanyeol doesn’t know the difference.  His heart is full of love for each of them; he’s ready to drop everything to help them out, even if it means sacrificing hours of sleep or dignity, and their little responding tokens of appreciation make him feel so much less hollow.

So when Zitao comes to him one day with a request, Chanyeol agrees to help before even knowing what the request is; his eager willingness precedes him so well that nobody thinks twice before asking Chanyeol for anything.  The group is careful not to rely too heavily on him for any one thing, but sometimes things slip through the cracks.

“You want me to help you…get with duizhang?” The last word falls from his lips with a certain slant of disbelief.

Tao shuffles his feet awkwardly, avoiding Chanyeol’s gaze.  “It’s just, you’re his best friend, and…well, if anyone would know how to do it, it’d be you.”

Chanyeol masters his shaking hands with some force and swallows hard.  “Well, yeah.  I guess that’s true.”  Tao has no idea what he’s asking for, and Chanyeol knows he’s already agreed; but never before in his life has he ever felt so reluctant to help a friend as he does right now.

But he looks at it logically, in his own way, and understands that Kris is only his best friend, and will never be anything more.  Kris is his reservoir, the engine that feeds and fills Chanyeol’s heart, the one who keeps him grounded and intact when everything goes pear-shaped, but he doesn’t want Chanyeol.  Chanyeol knows he isn’t good enough for Kris because Kris never takes anything from him.

And so in the end, he agrees to help, helpless to resist against the unhappy set of Tao’s lips and completely unaware of how sad he looks as he explains to Tao the exact path to Kris’s heart.

*

A difficult few weeks follow for Chanyeol, who suddenly doesn’t feel like pandering to his bandmates’ requests for ice cream or takeout or back massages.  He has to put up with the near-constant presence of Tao now, who pesters him for additional information about Kris and how to romance him and insists on checking Kris’s reactions against Chanyeol’s knowledge of his best friend.

It’s working, and Chanyeol knows why.  Nobody knows Kris better than he does, but because Tao is drawing from Chanyeol’s knowledge, he’s a shoo-in.

Chanyeol hopes miserably that Kris will be happy with Tao, but somewhere deep inside he also hopes Tao trips at the finish line and screws everything up.  The venomous little thought startles him, and he crushes it as quickly as he can beneath his miserable good will.  Tao asked for his help, and he had promised, so Chanyeol has no other option but to keep on this path and watch Tao pull his best friend away.

Kris knocks on Chanyeol’s door and pushes it open without waiting for a response.  “Hey.” He passes Chanyeol a paper bag, hot and stained with grease—dinner.  Chanyeol had wanted a burger, but he has no idea how Kris knew this about him before he’d even asked.

“Hey.” Chanyeol puts a French fry in his mouth, but his stomach is in his throat after a frankly exhaustive conversation with Tao over whether his last romantic dinner had made the right impression.

“You alright?” Kris flops down on the bed next to Chanyeol, artistically-shaved caterpillar eyebrows furrowed.  “You’ve been quiet lately.”

Chanyeol shrugs and at the straw in his soda to avoid answering, but Kris doesn’t fall for it, and finally he’s forced to answer Kris’s expectant expression.  “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Tao lately, that’s all.”

“Oh.” Kris rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably.  “Yeah…well, I don’t know.  He keeps asking me to hang out, and…”

“He’s trying to get with you.” Chanyeol interrupts in a flat voice, stuffing another French fry in his mouth to hide his grimace.  “He wants to date you, hyung.”

Kris raises an eyebrow in suspicion.  “How do you know?”

“He told me.” Chanyeol shrugs again, but his nonchalance doesn’t fool Kris.  “I think you should go for it.  He likes you a lot.”

Kris unwraps his food, frowning at his chicken sandwich thoughtfully.  “Yeah, I guess I see what you mean.”

Chanyeol almost gags on a bite of food and hastily gulps Coke to wash it down.  “Just don’t hurt him.”

“Hell, you know I’m not like that.” Kris mumbles around a mouthful of chicken.

“I know,” Chanyeol sets the bag off to the side, his stomach jostling too much to eat.  “Just saying.”

Kris turns on the television, and Chanyeol is grateful for the excuse to stop talking.

*

True to his own prediction, Kris’s leisure time slowly tides from Chanyeol to Tao, and they’re rarely seen apart these days.  Chanyeol feels empty but he pastes a stage smile on his face anyway, and commits himself ever harder to pleasing the others, but it doesn’t feel as gratifying as it used to.

Zitao has stopped coming to Chanyeol as often, being more secure in his footing now that he’s gotten Kris’s attention, but one night he comes into Chanyeol’s room uninvited, looking overenthusiastic.  Chanyeol doesn’t move until Tao flings himself onto the bed, looping his arms around Chanyeol’s head in an awkward hug.

“Kris’s birthday is coming up, hyung.” Tao says, wringing his hands.  “What should I get him?”

Chanyeol mutes the television and rolls over onto his back to stare at the ceiling.  “What does Kris like, Tao?” His voice sounds hollow in his chest, as if his insides have vanished.

“Well, he likes…” Tao hesitates.  “He likes drawing, and basketball.  And reading, of course.”

“What do you think you should get him, then?” Chanyeol asks, folding his hands across his stomach to keep it from aching.

“Um.” Tao hesitates.  “I’m just afraid of getting him something he doesn’t want…”

“Zitao, he’ll love anything you get him.” Chanyeol shakes his head impatiently.

“Are you sure you don’t have any ideas?” Tao whines, and Chanyeol lets out a long sigh.

“Here.” He gets up and crosses the room to his sock drawer and takes out a rectangular package, about the size of a book, wrapped in gold paper with red ribbon.  He rips the tag off it abruptly, ignoring the deep, tearing pain in his chest as he does so, and s the package at Tao.  “Take this.”

Tao takes it reverently, smoothing his hand over the slick metallic paper.  “But this is your present.”

“Take it.” Chanyeol repeats.  “Trust me, he’ll love it.”

Tao clutches it to his chest.  “Are you sure?”  His eyebrows are furrowed in confusion, as if Chanyeol has just shown him an alarming secret, and Chanyeol forces a smile on and nods encouragingly.

“Go ahead.  Take it and make him happy, Zitao.”

*

Tao takes Kris out for birthday dinner, and he can’t stop squirming in his tie and blazer, though he’s not sure why.  He’s uncomfortable, and he thinks it might be the slacks that are tailored a little too tightly to the left, or that it’s unbearably hot in the restaurant, or it might be the little gold-wrapped birthday gift in his handbag.

But Kris seems perfectly at ease, chattering away as the food is served and laughing at the absurd portion sizes, squeezing Tao’s leg under the table and making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“I got you a present.” Tao says awkwardly, and somehow, the way he says it reminds Kris so strongly of Chanyeol that he has to blink in order to be sure it’s really Tao he’s looking at.  It’s not the first time it’s happened.  Tao gently sets the gold-wrapped gift on the table between them as the server clears away their plates, and Kris chuckles.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.” He says, and Tao shifts uncomfortably in his seat, grinning sheepishly.  “Can I open it now?”

“I know, I just…yeah, open it!” Tao says vaguely, his eyes on the gold wrapping paper, and Kris gently pries under the tape and loosens the fancy wrappings, smoothing it open with the tips of his fingers.

Inside is a beautiful hardback book, thick and glossy, one of those English fantasy series Kris likes to read so much but not one Tao’s familiar with—and that’s the same moment Tao realizes two things: one, he’s completely ed; and two, Chanyeol doesn’t just want to be Kris’s best friend.  The revelation is like needles in his heart.

Kris stares at the heavy book with his mouth open, almost comical in his surprise and delight, and he flips open the front cover to find the scribbled signature of the author.  He gasps so dramatically it makes a passing waiter startle, and he clutches the book to his chest.  His eyes are glittering with excitement.

“Oh my god, Tao, I ing love these books!  How did you even—” and it’s like a light bulb blows in Kris’s eyes all of a sudden.  They’ve never discussed these books before, and even if they had, Tao wouldn’t have known how to find them in English.  “How did you…where did you get this?”

Tao flushes instantly, and his nervous gulp is audible even over the background clatter and clink of cutlery and buzzing conversation.  “I, uh…” he stammers, and Kris sets the book down in front of him, frowning slightly.

“Tao, this is amazing…” Kris says, running a hand reverently over the cover, “but how did you know?”

“Chanyeol-hyung gave it to me.” Tao whispers, mortified, and Kris stares at him in disbelief.

“What do you mean, Chanyeol gave it to you?”

“I mean,” Tao mumbles, his lip quivering slightly, “I mean Chanyeol-hyung gave me the book when I asked him what to get you.”

Kris looks down at the book on the table, frowning, and before he can really process anything, Tao continues in a voice barely above a whisper, so that Kris has to strain to hear it.  “Chanyeol-hyung helped me with everything.  I asked for his help because I liked you, but I think Chanyeol-hyung likes you more.” He finishes by dabbing his mouth with his linen napkin, but Kris can see the way his eyes scrunch up painfully and knows he’s hiding a sob.

Kris swallows painfully, dithering on the spot.  It’s hard to watch Tao fall apart in front of him, no matter how often he does it or for what reason, but on the other hand, Chanyeol’s silent withdrawal and the empty stare he’s had the last few weeks have a perfect explanation.  Kris feels a squeeze at his heart that doesn’t have anything to do with Tao.

He takes Tao’s hand across the table and squeezes it.  Tao looks up, eyes dry but sadness etched in every plane of his face, even when he smiles bravely at Kris.

“It’s okay,” Tao flaps a hand with unconvincing coolness.  “I’m fine.  You should go see Chanyeol-hyung, though.  And I think I’m gonna need some ice cream, duizhang.”

Kris tucks the book under his arm and buys Tao the biggest ice cream he can carry.  Things aren’t quite the same as before by the time they get back to the dorm, but Tao lets Kris hug him and press a gentle kiss to his forehead, and then he pushes Kris toward Chanyeol’s door encouragingly, a watery smile on his lips.

He hesitates before knocking, but Chanyeol calls him in anyway before he can.  “How’d you know I was out there?” Kris asked, and Chanyeol gives a dry, hoarse laugh.  He’s sitting on his bed, hair tousled from the pillow.  The TV is on and babbling mindlessly, but Kris suspects Chanyeol wasn’t really watching it.

“I always know.” Chanyeol smiles, but it’s weak, and Kris sits on the bed next to him.  The book rests in his lap, and Chanyeol’s tiny inhale is soft enough that Kris can pretend not to hear it.

“Yeah.  Me, too.” Kris says softly.  Chanyeol doesn’t breathe at all.  “Thank you, Chanyeol.”

“For what?” Chanyeol whispers.

“For this.” He lifts the book slightly. “And for helping Tao like you have.” Kris his dry lips nervously.  “You always put everyone else first, even at the cost of your own happiness, and nobody noticed until now.”

Chanyeol wipes a hand across his nose, and the wideness of his eyes betrays his shock and nervousness.  “Until now?” He asks, in a voice that trembles as much as Kris’s hands.

“You gave what you wanted to Zitao, didn’t you?” Kris asks softly.  Chanyeol’s lips twist slightly, and he shrugs.  “Chanyeol…”

“Tao liked you, and he asked me if I’d help because I knew you so well.” Chanyeol says roughly.  “So I did.”

“And that’s why he kept reminding me of you the entire time.” Kris toys with the edge of the book.  “I fell hardest for the little glimpses of you through him.”

Chanyeol twitches sharply, and Kris reaches over to take his hand.  It’s trembling, too.  He rubs his thumb over the back of Chanyeol’s hand, listening to Chanyeol’s breathing quicken.

“Tao never meant to take me away from you.  He didn’t know.”

“I gave you to him,” Chanyeol grips Kris’s hand tightly.  “It’s not his fault.”

“And then he gave me back to you, because you deserve something good for what you do for everyone else.” Kris sets the book aside on the bed, turning to face Chanyeol fully.  Chanyeol’s paler than usual in the stark light of the television; his face is set, though his eyes hold an enormity of fearful expectation.

“I should’ve noticed before now.” Kris mumbles, looking at their joined hands, unable to face the emotion in Chanyeol’s eyes.  “I didn’t want you to give yourself to me as much as you give to everyone else.  I wanted to be the one who didn’t take from you.”

“So you like me?” Chanyeol says unevenly, and Kris isn’t sure if he’s joking or not.  It doesn’t matter.  He slides fingertips along Chanyeol’s jaw, watching his eyelashes flutter gently.  Chanyeol lets out a broken breath and leans forward just a little, restrained, hardly daring to believe his senses as Kris cups his jaw fully and presses their lips together.  Heat flares in Kris’s stomach and climbs his ribs, and a thrum like a struck piano wire passes through Chanyeol’s body.

The kiss is chaste, brief, and Chanyeol sighs against Kris’s lips, as if enjoying a pleasant dream.

“Yeah, I like you.” Kris mumbles against Chanyeol’s lips.

“You mean it?” Chanyeol asks, a little insecure as always, and Kris pulls Chanyeol to his chest.  Chanyeol is as tall as Kris is, but he seems small with his head tucked under Kris’s chin, palm flat and warm against Kris’s sternum, like a child seeking reassurance.

“Yeah.” Kris Chanyeol’s hair.  “Don’t give yourself away to anyone else, okay?”

Chanyeol smiles, clinging to the sleeves of Kris’s blazer and nuzzling into his neck.  “What do you mean?  I’m yours.”