Chanyeol is six.

The world is a bit bright through his eyes, wonderment fills his thoughts. Anyone could be a princess or an ogre in disguise, anyone could be a superhero, waiting for the right moment to swoop in and save the world. The sky is vast and he smells the grass as his best friend tackles him to the ground. The park is one big space to explore. He holds onto Baekhyun’s hand and they race through the open field, gasping as they go.

 

Chanyeol is ten.

Instead of the great outdoors, he opts to stay inside instead. His couch is comfortable and the video game flashes on the screen him into an endless loop. He doesn’t hear his parents’ exasperated complaints, his sister’s insults – all he hears is the monotonous music and his character’s grunts as he dies for the fifth times. 

“Ha! In your face,” Baekhyun says smugly. Chanyeol rolls his eyes as his best friend high fives his sister and grins back at him.

“This is why you’re both so chubby,” Yura frowns, “You guys need to go outside.”

But she leaves them alone when Baekhyun starts another round, “At least we’re chubby together, noona.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” She tells him. “”Unlike Chanyeol over there.”

 

Chanyeol is thirteen.

The grass is a dull shade of brown as the last bit of winter melts away. He zips on his lightest jacket and runs outside, excited to show off his new bike. It’s sleek and black and Chanyeol feels like the coolest person the world. He pedals up the hill and zig-zags down the other side, feeling the wind through his hair. It stings a little bit and by the time he reaches Baekhyun’s front door, his nose is red and runny.

“Helloooo! BAEK!” He hollers outside because he knows Baekhyun can hear him from his room on the second floor. The window faces the front of the house after all.

“Chanyeol,” Mr. Byun greets him on his way to work, “Good morning. Why’re you up so early?”

“I got a new bike!”

“Looks good. Baekhyun is still asleep, though.”

Chanyeol goes inside the house and climbs the stairs that leads to Baekhyun’s room. His best friend is snoring slightly on his bed, arm dangling off the mattress. Baekhyun is lying in an odd angle, Chanyeol doesn’t even understand how someone sleeps with their upper half teetering at the edge of the bed, about to fall over.

He sneaks over to Baekhyun, carefully tip toeing through the mess on the floor. “Baekhyunnnn~”

Baekhyun yelps in his sleep which makes Chanyeol chuckles. He watches the smaller male instead of trying to wake him up. His bike can wait.

 

Chanyeol remembers when the thought first came to mind, he is sixteen: it’s sudden. It doesn’t feel like anything written in books or magazines, or delivered through careful dialogues in one of those dramas Kyungsoo is so fond of watching. It’s a sudden realization, a bleep on his radar that settles somewhere in his gut – warm and heavy.

It isn’t during one of Baekhyun’s glamorous moments; it is ordinary, a tilt of the head and a small, “It’s Chanyeol” follows by a flash of canines as Baekhyun smiles, patting the chair next to him. “Here. Sit next to me.”

Chanyeol joins his friends as per usual, jokes loudly delivers amongst their group. Nothing is different. No heart palpations, no sweaty palms, no butterflies.

But the thought sticks with him for days.

He’s cute.

 

Baekhyun is cute. His entire being seems to be made up of rainbows and sunshine. If not for that mouth of his, he would be pretty perfect. But Baekhyun is not perfect: not in the way he chews like a cow, not in the way he thinks it’s okay to attack Chanyeol’s shin with his pointy shoes, not in the way that he somehow always find ways to make fun of Tao.

But Chanyeol doesn’t mind.

 

No one notices; no sharp-eye observations, no world shattering confessions. No one notices because Chanyeol is still Chanyeol around Baekhyun. He doesn’t blush when their hands accidentally meet in the bowl of popcorn, he doesn’t stutter when Baekhyun leans a bit too close. He just takes it like a champ and shoves Baekhyun off of him, sticks out his tongue when his best friend whines from the rough treatment.

“You ,” But Baekhyun isn't too fazed because he cuddles Tao instead, “This movie is so boring.”

“Shhhhh,” Kyungsoo frowns.

“Can we all be quiet?” Yixing says, dimple flashing and everyone quiets down.

 

It happens when they are eighteen; no longer a kid and not yet an adult. They are in Chanyeol’s car, parked outside of Baekhyun’s driveway. It’s dark and serenely quiet because it’s night time and the world is asleep.

Baekhyun is playing with the hem of his shirt, “I…” His voice is so small, Chanyeol knows his best friend is nervous. Baekhyun is almost never this subdued.

“I…” Baekhyun squeezes his eyes shut. “I’ve always known but, I think – I think…I’m gay. I don’t expect you to understand,” He rushes on before Chanyeol can form a reply. “I just think it’s time I’m honest with myself and I wanted you to know. No pressure on you and this doesn’t change anything between us – or, at least…I hope not. I don’t know.”

Chanyeol is an eighteen year old boy. He hasn’t lived enough to understand the art of subtlety. There is so much he wants to say – like how? And what does Baekhyun mean this doesn’t change anything, because of course not. How does Baekhyun even know? Is he gay too because he thinks of Baekhyun way more than he should when he is alone in his room and sometimes he sees his best friend’s face flashes behind his eyelid? What does it all mean?

Baekhyun coughs discreetly, “Erm. Well. Goodnight.”

And he lets Baekhyun leaves just like that.

 

In retrospect, he should have said something. That summer, at night in his car, when the world fades from dusk to a dingy ebony because there are so streetlights around Baekhyun's – he should have stopped Baekhyun and said: “You’re not alone. You’re not weird. We love who we love; I know it’s true because I feel it every time I look at you.”

Chanyeol is wiser at twenty five.

 

“Are you coming to the reunion?” Kyungsoo’s voice is clear on the other side. “It’s been so long.”

Chanyeol loosens the tie around his neck, “I don’t know, Soo.”

“You have to go,” Kyungsoo pleads. “Please.”

It’s hard to say no to Kyungsoo, because his friend doesn’t beg. He barely asks Chanyeol any favors. “Fine.”

 

Baekhyun at twenty five is different. There is a different air around him, his face is a bit sharper. Baekhyun at twenty five is eyeliner and perfectly coifed hair. Chanyeol doesn’t know this Baekhyun.

“Hi,” Chanyeol breathes.

“Hello,” Baekhyun’s smile is dazzling. It’s so different and so familiar at the same time.

“Are you enjoying the reunion?” Chanyeol asks, looking around the room. It’s not even a reunion since he knows for sure a lot of his friends still see each other on a regular basis. It’s only Chanyeol and Baekhyun who drifted away from the group. Baekhyun started to pull away first, insecurities won out in the end. Chanyeol knew things were hard for Baekhyun, but he didn’t understand why Baekyun had to go to a university across the country when they promised to attend Seoul University together.

Baekhyun follows his sight. Their friends are all over the spacious karaoke room, some are dancing to Kyungsoo’s rendition of “Sunday Morning” while others were playing games and doing shots. Chanyeol is sitting closest to the door, just in case he has to leave. It’s been a long day at work and he has a headache brewing right between his eyes.

“Are you okay?” Baekhyun asks, eyes studying Chanyeol’s face.

And the room is way, way too hot with so many bodies cramped into such a tight space. Chanyeol’s tie is bothering him again, too tight around his neck like a noose. He wishes someone would strangle him when he feels Baekhyun’s hand on his forehead.

“You’re burning up,” Baekhyun says, brow coming together. “Chanyeol, are you sick?”

Chanyeol contemplates saying, “burning up for you, baby,” but he thankfully has better brain to mouth filter now.

Baekhyun sighs, moving to help Chanyeol up. “Why did you even come out?”

“Kyungsoo said you’d be here, I wanted to see you.” Whoops. There goes that filter.

“Stupid.”

 

Baekhyun at twenty five is no quieter than Baekhyun at eighteen…sixteen…birth. He is nagging at Chanyeol for not having a jacket and taking too long to enter the pin to his front door. Chanyeol suppresses a long suffering sigh.

“Baek, can you just hand me the pills.”

“No. You have to eat,” Baekhyun rummages through his fridge and clucks disapprovingly at Chanyeol’s various selections of frozen entrées. “Do you have any real food?”

“Those are real food.”

 

Chanyeol figures it out in the middle of dinner (frozen food for the win), Baekhyun at twenty five is sadder. There are lines under his eyes, tiredness marring Baekhyun’s skin. There is a reservation to his smile. Chanyeol isn’t used to seeing him so guarded.

“Baek,” He struggles to say the words correctly. “How have you been?”

“S’okay. I’m working,” Baekhyun shrugs. “People don’t really prepare you for the real world, but it’s not so bad.”

“Anyone special?” Chanyeol teases, eyebrows wriggling.

“Not anyone permanent.”

“Oh.”

“You?”

Chanyeol runs a hand through his hair, “Oh. Gosh. Not since forever.”

Baekhyun doesn’t speak for a moment, then he leans in closer to Chanyeol. There something about his smirk, something about the glint in his eyes.

“Wanna have fun with me?”

Chanyeol thinks his heart’s stopped. He feels Earth screeches to a stop and somewhere, the ground is breaking at the seams.

This can’t be the same Baekhyun.

Baekhyun at twenty five is dangerous.