It’s Saturday, 7:10 PM, and Chanyeol knows that it’s going to take him more than three hours to walk to the closest train station, and he really doesn’t have that kind of time.

 

His parents are attending some prestigious gathering with influential people, and his dad had repeated to him nearly every day how important this whole thing was, how it could raise their social standard or something like that. Chanyeol just smiled and pretended to be concerned, like he actually cared.

 

And, as the gathering still has perhaps two hours left of it, Chanyeol has taken this opportunity to escape from his house and take off to the nearest major city and hopefully begin a new life there, by himself. Or, if he really needs assistance, he’ll call his lovely sister, and maybe she’ll let him live with her without giving any information to their parents. But, that’s ultimate last resort, really.

 

Yes Park Chanyeol, the happy-go-lucky, always smiling, incredibly gifted and talented boy, son of a noteworthy lawyer in the general area, is planning to run away from home, to abandon everything he knows, for some distant hope for freedom and true happiness. He wants to scoff at himself for his reasoning, but he wants to scoff even more at the mere thought of having to eat dinner with his parents at another pretentious household’s get-together.

 

It’s not that he doesn’t love his parents, because in honesty, he really does. And, he likes to believe that they genuinely love him back as well, but he’s not too sure.

 

Chanyeol’s just tired of never being allowed to well, be himself. He’s always been Park Chanyeol - the happy-go-lucky, always smiling, incredibly gifted and talented boy, son of a noteworthy lawyer in the general area. Especially: son of a noteworthy lawyer in the general area. That’s all the ever matters; what his father is. What he does. Never what Chanyeol does. And especially never what Chanyeol wants.

 

Chanyeol wants to feel like he doesn’t have to hide his emotions and true feelings from his very own family. The one time he had cried in front of his father, nevermind the fact that he was eleven years old, his father had, instead of comforting him, said, “You’re Park Chanyeol. You don’t cry. You have no need to cry.” And anytime he felt an emotion not in the slightest similar to happiness, even including love, the quote was varied for whatever situation he was in at that moment. It makes Chanyeol sick.

 

And therefore, here he is with a suitcase containing around seven outfits (he’s really good at packing), a backpack with his most prized possessions and necessities (laptop, deodorant, picture frame of his family, and his phone charger), and a guitar. And really, that’s all he needs in his plan to run away.

 

He’s been walking for more than thirty minutes when he looks at his phone and sees that it’s 7:20 and that his battery is at less than 20 percent. He sighs aloud and cuts it off; it’s not as if he wants to hear his parents calls asking him where he is, or telling him to come home, or what not. He doesn’t want to hear them; they probably wouldn’t call in the first place, anyway.

 

It’s lightly snowing outside, plenty so that it would make a beautiful picture, but not so much that it is dangerous for the drivers.

 

There is enough snow that it is possible to have a mini snow ball fight, or even to make snow angels without getting muddy. Chanyeol considers making a snow angel, but he realizes that he doesn’t have enough time, and that he doesn’t want frostbite or something like that from continuous exposure to the wetness of his clothes. And, after all, he still has at least two hours left of this journey, and then who knows how long on the train to wherever he’s going to stay tonight.

 

It’s starting to become cold, so Chanyeol tightens his arms further around his body and turns onto the main road. In a car, the drive takes fifteen to twenty minutes, but at this rate, he would consider himself lucky if he makes it to the train station healthily and before 11:00.

 

He stops walking so he can catch his breath, and he considers the idea of hitchhiking. What more do I have to lose?Chanyeol muses as he sticks up his thumb and walks closer to the highway.

 

For what feels like more than ten minutes (and an ultimate waste of time), Chanyeol only saw the headlights of various vehicles pass by him, as if they never saw him. He heard a few people honk horns, assumingly at him. And, he dodged a beer bottle thrown at him by seemingly drunk frat boys. So eventful.

 

Finally, right as Chanyeol starts to walk again, a car slowly drives beside him and honks the horn. Chanyeol jumps in surprise, and nearly falls down in the snow. The car driver rolls down the passenger side window, and reveals himself as a decently young guy wearing a job uniform. “Hey kid, do you need a ride?”

 

Chanyeol would normally jeer at whomever calls him a “kid” because, no he’s not a kid; he’s seventeen years old. But, seeing as this guy is kind enough to offer him a ride when he’s assumingly on the job, Chanyeol finds that he can’t really complain.

 

Chanyeol simply nods and opens the car door when he hears, “Okay, get in then.”

 

The man starts driving before Chanyeol has even closed his door completely, and he pulls into some shady side street and Chanyeol feels like he’s made one of the worst decisions in his life at this moment: not only getting in this man’s car, but perhaps even leaving his house in the first place. He wouldn’t be in this situation, where this man he doesn’t even know is driving him away to murder him, if he hadn’t ever left his house, and even if he doesn’t regret that decision completely yet, he does regret climbing into this car because what is go-

 

The car pulls into a driveway and Chanyeol is gripping the car door handle strongly, ready to jump out, nevermind the rest of his . It doesn’t matter too much, when it comes to him surviving or dying of a murderer.

 

The car backs out of the driveway, pulls up a little so as to not block the it, and stops. Chanyeol has already started pulling the handle when he hears, more than sees, the man beside him turning to face him. Chanyeol doesn’t turn to look at him.

 

“Um, hi? Where do you need to go? My name’s Yixing; I’ll be your chauffeur for the night.”

 

Chanyeol visibly relaxes and chuckles at this man named Yixing’s corniness. He turns to look at him and says, “I’m trying to get to the closest train station, man. Is that cool?”

 

Yixing simply nods and drives back towards the highway, except he drives in the opposite direction of the train station, and Chanyeol’s ready to open the door while the car is still moving. Instead, he decides to take the more calm approach and asks, “Where the hell are you going?”

 

Yixing takes his eyes off the road to look at him until Chanyeol yells, “Watch the road goddammit!” And even then, he just chuckles and Chanyeol thinks that’s the maniacal laugh of someone mentally insane who is trying to kill him.

 

“A little tense aren’t we? Chill out dude; I was originally driving this way before I had to turn around to pick you up. I am on the job you know? I have some food to deliver this way, so be a dear and tell me if you see a Second Street, okay?”

 

Chanyeol nods, and starts to think he might have went a little overboard by assuming this delivery boy who’s giving him a ride is a murderer. Whoops.

 

“So, kid,” Yixing begins while staring at the road, “What’s your name? What business do you have at the train station?”

 

“I’m…” Chanyeol considers lying for a bit before he remembers that Baekhyun always tells him that he’s a liar, so he sighs, “Park Chanyeol.”

 

“Hmm, go on.”

 

Chanyeol’s surprised that the boy in the driver’s seat didn’t ask him if he is the son of the notorious lawyer Park Yongjoon, but he’s also very relieved. “Does it really matter why I’m going to the train station? I just want to go.”

 

Yixing only hums and continues driving, and Chanyeol doesn’t know what to take of this boy’s constant humming.

 

After a few moments of silence, Yixing tells Chanyeol that he can change the radio station, or hook up his phone to the auxiliary cable. Chanyeol smiles in response, turns his phone back on (and puts it on blocking mode, so as to not get any calls or texts from his parents), and puts on his playlist of British bands.

 

As Radiohead’s Karma Police fills the car, Yixing hums in content, and both Yixing and Chanyeol begin singing along quietly. When the song finishes, and the Smith’s This Charming Man fills the void, Yixing finally speaks again.

 

“Hmm, I see that you’re really into the British alt scene. Good choice.”

 

“I take it you’re also a fan?” When Chanyeol sees Yixing nod in response, he continues, “Do you have something in particular you want to hear? I probably have it.”

 

Yixing shakes his head. “No, I don’t really care what we listen to. I told you to pick, after all. Though, it is pleasant to hear such good music, I must admit.”

 

Chanyeol chuckles. “Do you only listen to British alternative music? Or are you into other stuff too?”

 

Yixing smiles, and Chanyeol notices a sizeable dimple as his smile grows. “Well, obviously no; I like other things. Well, I feel like it would be illegal to not like the Korean indie scene, since well, I like indie and I live in Korea. But, as I’m from China, I enjoy some folky Chinese music too. And, perhaps I even like British-esque American bands.”

 

Though Chanyeol was deathly afraid the first few minutes of this ride, he has to admit that he’s glad that, if anyone was going to give him a ride, it was Yixing. He seems to be a pretty chill dude, in Chanyeol opinion. “Ah, then what’s your favorite indie band from here?”

 

For the next fifteen minutes the two of them talked about the evolution of indie rock in the past few years, their shared guitar talent, and concerts the two of them attended or wanted to attend. Music means more to Chanyeol than anyone could ever guess, and it’s quite the nice feeling to talk to someone else who cares just as much about music as he does.

 

After a dip in the conversation that left them both silent for a few minutes, Chanyeol asks, “So, how far away is this delivery deal of yours, man?”

 

“I’m expecting it to be really close from here; I’m no- Oh there it is! That’s the Second Street!” Yixing makes a right turn down the aforementioned street, and he pulls into the driveway of the third house on the right. Chanyeol hands him the food that was lying on the floorboard beneath Chanyeol, and Yixing walks to the house with his dimpled grin on his face.  

 

Less than two minutes later, Yixing returns with a few singles given as a tip. When he sits down in the driver’s seat, he turns to Chanyeol and says, “So, to the train station, right?”

 

Chanyeol nods. “So, man, now that I know you’re a pretty chill guy and are probably really understanding, I guess I’ll tell you why I’m heading to the train station.”

 

Yixing gives him a nod to continue, to show that he’s listening, as he backs out of the driveway and head back towards the main highway. “So, my parents are at this gathering tonight, and won’t be back until, what time is it now? A quarter til 9:00? Well, they won’t be back until around 9:00, and I thought that this was a brilliant opportunity to pack my bags and leave, while they weren’t there to put up a pitiful attempt to stop me.”

 

Yixing reaches a stop sign, puts the car in park, and turns to look at Chanyeol with an emotionless and blank face. “So, you’re telling me that you’re running away. Why?”

 

Chanyeol sighs, but knows that Yixing isn’t going to continue driving until he at least gives him an explanation. “Look, I’ll explain while you drive? Is that alright?”

 

Yixing nods, puts the car in drive, and once again drives in the opposite direction of the train station. “Dude, where are you going now?”

 

“I know a quicker way to a train station; there’s one around here that’s closer than the one that’s across town.” Yixing mumbles, and Chanyeol, not knowing much about his city’s train stations, trusts what Yixing is saying.

 

“Okay, that’s cool. Well, okay, don’t judge me alright?” Chanyeol pauses to look at Yixing’s suddenly placid face, and when Chanyeol sees him nod, he continues. “So, I guess I’m tired of not being allowed to be myself. I’m Park Chanyeol, the ‘happy-go-lucky, always smiling, incredibly gifted and talented boy, and son of a noteworthy lawyer in the general area.’ That’s how I’m known. That’s who I am. In your time in this car with me, have I shown you any of those traits?” Yixing shakes his head, and Chanyeol sighs.

 

“It’s not that I don’t have those qualities, because I do. But that is a mold of me; that’s the perfect son my parents want me to be. That’s the son that’s easy to sell into other peoples’ hearts and convince them that Park Yongjoon’s son is going to be something someday, and we should take him seriously. But, I’m not serious. I’m not my dad, man.”

 

Yixing takes a left turn at the intersection, and hums to signal him to go on. “And, it’s like my parents don’t even want me to be myself when I’m at home, or even when I’m by myself. At the ripe age of seventeen years old, I shouldn’t have to ask myself every single ing day who I really am.”

 

Yixing opens his mouth to say something, but Chanyeol beats him to it. “And, you know, my dad has never said that he loves me, or appreciates me? I mean, I’m pretty sure he does and all, but I wish he would just ing say it, goddammit! You know, he told me that I should hide my emotions, and that there’s no reason for me to ever cry. I broke my arm at eleven years old; he told me not to cry. I was in my bedroom at age thirteen when I felt I had disappointed my dad big time, and he did not comfort me; he told me not to cry. I had someone close to me die in my sophomore year; he told me not to cry.” Chanyeol chokes by this point, and stops talking in favor of looking out of the window.

 

They’re at a red light a few minutes later when Yixing begins speaking. “Look, I’m really sorry that it appears that you haven’t had the happiest childhood, despite the happy image your parents have painted on you. That’s really unfortunate. But, tell me, Chanyeol-ah, you’re seventeen. You probably have no job. You probably have no diploma. What the hell are you going to do by yourself once you get off that train? Where are you going to go?” The light turns green, and Yixing makes another left turn.

 

Chanyeol, feels offended by Yixing’s truthful questions, even though he knows he shouldn’t. “Why do you care? You hardly know me!”

 

“Is that so?” Yixing sneers, and Chanyeol didn’t think it was possible for this mellow of a guy to ever get even the slightest angry. “Apparently, according to you, I already know more about you than your family, and I’ve been talking with you for about an hour. If your family is supposed to care about you and know all about you, what am I supposed to do if I know more than your damn family does? I don’t want to see some bright-faced, naive, seventeen year old kid being destroyed by the harsh reality of the real world. I don’t want to see you do anything without a solid plan, man. So, since you think that I hardly know you, why don’t you tell me some things about yourself?”

 

Chanyeol huffs, but complies. “I’m Park Chanyeol; I’m seventeen years old. I like to play guitar.” Chanyeol pauses, thinking of other things to day.

 

“If that’s all you can come up with, you need to sit down with yourself and do some true introspection, because that’s pitiful.”

 

Chanyeol grunts. “I wasn’t finished. Obviously you know that I love music; one of my favorite bands is Radiohead, which I guess you knew. Uh, I also really enjoy hip-hop; could you have ever guessed that? I’m actually a pretty good rapper and beatboxer, believe it or not. I know I kinda give off the indie vibe, and I’m glad I do because it pretty much defines me, but hip-hop is also a big part of me. I also play drums and bass, which is pretty cool, I guess. My favorite color is black, though I’m not really sure if you care by this point.” Chanyeol looks over at Yixing, and notices that the sneer previously on his face has been replaced with a slight smile.

 

“I really love hanging out with my friends; they bring out my crazy side. This one time, my friends bought me birthday gifts, except that I have like the worst friends ever when it comes to buying gifts. Two of my friends, Baekhyun and Jongdae, bought the pants and the jacket respectively to some tacky , animal print pajamas set or something. But, Sehun and Jongin, god they take the award for the worst gift ever. They bought me cotton pads, mouthwash, gardening gloves, and ing band-aids for my birthday.” Chanyeol guffaws, and starts clapping his hands in an excited way; Yixing looks over at him in awe.

 

“They bought you mouthwash for your birthday?” Yixing asks, astonished.

 

“Yeah, they’re pretty stupid. But they’re a lot of fun.”

 

“Hmm, do they go to school with you, all of your friends?”

 

“Yeah; they make school much more fun. I think it’s a daily competition between Jongdae and Baekhyun as to who can make our history teacher more uncomfortable. I’d join in, but my father would kill me if I got detention, because that looks bad in the job market, or something like that.” Chanyeol says the last bit distastefully.

 

Yixing looks at him again, then looks back at the road. “But, what happens to your friends if you run away? Have you told them about this plan? Do you plan to go see them?”

 

Chanyeol grumbles, “Hey, why are you questioning my tactics so much? Aiish. No, I haven’t told them. I didn’t want them to stop me either. This is what I want to do; no one needs to try to stop me.

 

Yixing smirks in response, but Chanyeol doesn’t notice as he continues to tell Yixing about himself. Yixing learns that Chanyeol is right in the middle of his friend’s ages: two are older, two are younger. He talks about his friends for at least another twenty minutes, from their crazy antics and pranks during the school day, to how long they’ve all been friends and how they met in the first place.

 

Chanyeol apparently wanted to take acting lessons when he was sixteen, but his father had scoffed at the idea and told him to focus more in school; Chanyeol said that a school play is coming up soon, and he really wants to try out, but maybe it’s for the best that he’s running away, so he doesn’t have to see someone else get the role he wanted to play. Yixing can’t deny the clawing feeling on his heart when Chanyeol said that.

 

Yixing notices that Chanyeol also tends to ramble, because once you got him started on something, he seems to never stop talking. By this point, he’s not even giving Yixing information about himself anymore; he’s now saying some joke one of his friends had told him, and he’s grinning ear to ear and showing all of his teeth, and he’s clapping his hands as well, and Yixing understands why his friends call him the “Happy Virus”; he explained the nickname to him some ten minutes ago, but it all makes sense to Yixing now.

 

Chanyeol asks Yixing a few questions as well, like, “What type of food do you deliver?” and when Yixing answers, “Chinese,” Chanyeol laughs for two full minutes. Yixing doesn't really understand why the younger boy is laughing so hard, but Chanyeol thinks it is just so funny that he’s Chinese and he’s delivering Chinese food. He also asks Yixing how old he is, and when he tells him that he’s nineteen, Chanyeol accuses him of, “Giving me real world advice like you actually know what the real world is,” to which Yixing responds, “At least I have a job and pay the real world’s taxes.”

 

Eventually though, Chanyeol begins to realize that, after more than an hour and a half of joking with Yixing and telling him funny anecdotes of his own life and Yixing beginning to share little stories about China, they are still not at this supposedly closer train station, and he’s wondering what’s going on.

 

“Xing,” Chanyeol begins, and Yixing smiles, and tells him to go on. “Where are we? We could have already made it by more than an hour ago to the original train station that I was thinking about! What’s going on?”

 

Yixing remains silent, and in the corner of his eye, he sees Chanyeol check his phone and gasp at the time. 11:07. Chanyeol doesn’t know what the latest time is to buy a ticket for a train, but he imagines that it has already passed, or it will pass relatively soon. He’s about ready to strangle Yixing when he pulls into a parking lot in front of a ing park. Yixing turns the car off and turns his head to look at Chanyeol.

 

“Yixing, you have five seconds to tell me where I am, and if I can catch a train now that you’ve driven me halfway across the ing world to get to a train station that I’m not even at now!” Chanyeol seethes.

 

“Hold up, Chanyeollie. Don’t start raising your voice before you hear me out. I’ve listened to you all night, you can listen to me for a few moments, alright?” Yixing’s eyes look at him pleadingly, and Chanyeol feels like he could at least listen to the man across from him.

 

“So, I’ll tell you now that the parking lot behind us, that way,” Yixing points through his back window towards an empty parking lot, “Is the lot for the train station. You’re where you want to be, but before you leave this car, listen to me. Please.” Chanyeol doesn’t give any inclination that he’s going to leave the car to walk towards the train station, so Yixing lets out a breath of air and begins speaking again.

 

“Okay, look, Channie. I’m sorry that I wasted your time, and well, mine to be honest; I am still on the clock, you know.” He grins, causing his dimple to appear, and Chanyeol can’t help but to move forward to push his finger into his dimple, causing both of them to chuckle.

 

“Anyway, I’m sorry, really, I am. But, I’m serious that I don’t want you making any rash decisions, because to me, this plan hasn’t been well thought out. For starters, you took a ride from some guy you didn’t even know. What if I was a murderer? What would you have done then?”

 

Yixing takes an audible breath. “And, somehow, I bet that you’ve never used the train system in your life, have you? How would you even know where to go? What would happen if you ran out of cash to buy your tickets after you end up on five wrong trains? What happens then?” Chanyeol chuckles at Yixing’s exaggeration, because though he is correct in that he’s never rode a train (his dad preferring taxis), he’s pretty confident that he wouldn’t mess up five times.

 

Yixing glares at Chanyeol’s laughter, and the other becomes silently quickly. “Hate to be a buzzkill, but that’s no laughing matter. You don’t know how complicated the train system is until you get up there and have no idea what you’re doing. That was me a few years ago; remember, I’m from China, and our train system is different from Korea’s. I literally ended up on the wrong train, five times.”

 

“But, that’s beside the point Chanyeol-ah. Even if you safely got to the train station, and somehow managed to get the correct train, what would you do after that? Where would you stay? Where would you work? Who would hire a seventeen year old kid without a degree and who isn’t in school to get said degree? Let me answer that one for you: no one.”

 

“I’m not saying that you need to go home and give up your plans of running away; I’m not going to stop you. I just wish that you had a more well thought out plan than “get on a train and end up somewhere.” I’m willing to help you, if you want help, Chanyeol-ah. Hand me your phone.” Chanyeol, stuck in a bit of a stupor, unlocks his phone, and hands it to him unquestioningly. When Yixing hands it back two minutes later, Chanyeol doesn’t even unlock it to see whatever he did.

 

“If you’re wondering, I added my number just in case you get lost, or scared, or whatever; I’ll do my best to help you out, okay? Now, I’m going to drive you to the train station, and I’ll let you see if they have any tickets available, and if they do, I guess that’ll be goodbye.” Yixing says as he cranks the car.

 

“One last thing though: Chanyeol, don’t you realize that in the time you’ve been with me, you’ve shown all the characteristics that your parents deemed were you? You’re a happy-go-lucky person; if you weren’t, you would have thought through this escape plan of yours a little bit better.” Yixing giggles a bit.

 

“Be honest with me Chanyeol; once you finally started talking about yourself, and letting your personality shine through, was there ever a time you weren’t smiling? And, you are incredibly gifted and talented; you play all of those instruments, and you rap, and sing, and I’m assuming that you’re intelligent since your father makes you focus on your academics, and rightfully so, honestly.”

 

“Your parents may not notice or care about the things that really intrigue you, like music or drama, and in that case, I encourage you to do whatever the you want. If you want to act in that damn play, act in it. What’s the worse they can do? The worst they can say is that you disappointed them or whatever, and that’s a simple fix on your part by not caring about whether you impress your dad, because it will probably never be good enough anyway.”

 

“But, in the end, even if they don’t care about your passions, I do believe, by the way you were describing them all night, that they love you and would be genuinely concerned if you just left without warning, like you have now. I’m not giving you a lecture to stay, Chanyeol, but you’ll be allowed to leave soon enough, when you’re eighteen and heading to college, so I do encourage you to think about things like that. Don’t only think about how you’re feeling right now, but how your actions can affect the others around you as well.”

 

Yixing puts the car in drive, crosses the street, and pulls into the train station parking lot. He looks at Chanyeol, and seeing the other boy grabbing his things, sighs. Chanyeol turns his head towards Yixing and asks, “Yixing, would you be willing to help me buy a ticket? I don’t think I’ll know what to do.”

 

Yixing nods, turns off the car, and gets out. He walks over to Chanyeol’s side of the car and helps him by grabbing his guitar and suitcase. Chanyeol gives him a wide beaming grin, and he steps out of the car and closes the door.

 

They walk towards the station in front of them, enter the front gate, stride through the doors, and approach the electronic ticket booth. Upon seeing that the next train is at 11:45, and it’s the last train of the night, Yixing sighs, wishing he had taken just a bit more time in the car, so as to prevent Chanyeol from being able to purchase the ticket.

 

Chanyeol checks his phone, and sees that it’s 11:34; he has eleven minutes until his train of freedom arrives, and yet, he feels like he’s making a mistake. Like, maybe Yixing was right; maybe he should wait it out a few more months until college.

 

“Yixing,” Chanyeol whispers, “I don’t want to buy a ticket anymore.”

 

Yixing whips his head in the direction of his voice so quickly that he winces from pain. Chanyeol chuckles and tries to help him by massaging his neck, but Yixing falls to the ground suddenly in a burst of laughter and whining. “Aiish, I have a sensitive neck, you fool!” Yixing yells from the ground.

 

Chanyeol sticks out a hand for Yixing to pull himself up, and the older whispers thanks in return. “How was I supposed to know that? You know way more about me than I know about you!”

 

“Ah, it doesn’t matter; now you know. Why have you changed your mind about the ticket?”

 

Chanyeol rubs the back of his head with nervousness. “I don’t know, man. I guess just some of the stuff you said made sense, you know? I’m not ready to live on my own; I can’t even do my own laundry. I can wait until I graduate to move out, and that would probably be better because then my parents will actually be willing to pay for my rent, because I’ll be at college and all. Thanks for everything, Yixing. I really appreciate it.”

 

“Okay, Channie, I’m glad you’ve made your decision. Do you want me to take you back to your parents’ house?”

 

Chanyeol looks at Yixing in horror. “Are you stupid, Yixing? Do you want me to die? I can’t go back to my house at nearly midnight, without ever telling them where I was!”

 

Yixing has a skeptical countenance. “So where do you want me to take you instead? A friend’s house?”

 

Chanyeol looks around the train station and responds to Yixing, purposely avoiding eye contact. “Sure, that sounds good.”

 

“Okay, so which friend?”

 

Chanyeol looks up from the ground and looks right beside Yixing’s face. “You.”

 

“What are y- Oh. Um, I guess you can come to my place tonight…. Come on, grab your stuff and we’ll go.”

The two scurry back to the car, and Yixing drives somewhere; Chanyeol’s not really sure where because he’s super tired and just really ready to sleep after such a day like today.

 

Nearly thirty silent minutes later, Yixing parks in the parking lot of an apartment complex, pulls the key out of the ignition, and turns to shake Chanyeol out of his light sleep. Chanyeol drowsily smiles at him and opens his door.

 

After they have grabbed Chanyeol’s stuff, they walk into the building and then into the elevator. As Yixing presses the button for level 8, he says, “I’ll warn you, I have a roommate who also commonly has his boyfriend over; so I’m sorry if you see any images you don’t want to see.” Chanyeol laughs awkwardly, and before he can say anything in return, the elevator rings and Yixing is grabbing him by the wrist and leading him to his apartment.

 

Yixing pulls his keys out and unlocks the door; then he motions for Chanyeol to be quiet and come inside. They take off their shoes right inside the door, and Yixing walks further into the apartment, prompting Chanyeol to do the same.

 

Sure enough, when Yixing turns on the lights and Chanyeol notices they are in the living room, he sees who he assumes to be Yixing’s roommate snuggling with another guy, both of them somewhat covered by a blanket. Yixing gasps from beside him and moves to stand behind him on his tippy-toes so he can cover Chanyeol’s eyes from the sight.

 

“Luhan!” Yixing yells, and one of the boys on the couch turns his head in recognition of the voice, and when he sees a body way too tall to be Yixing, he chokes in surprise.

 

“Luhan,” Yixing says in Mandarin, and Chanyeol has a look of confusion, “Why can’t you guys do whatever you do in your bedroom? I have a guest, and he needs to sleep somewhere, preferably not on the couch, now that he’s seen you guys on it.”

 

“Ooh, does Xingxing have a crush?” Minseok, Luhan’s boyfriend, asks, in Korean. Chanyeol, who understood what he said, removes Yixing’s hand and looks at him with astonishment. Yixing is blushing profusely, and looks away from Chanyeol in favor of sending eye daggers at Minseok.

 

“No, no, no! Minseok, this isn’t concerning you! Be quiet!” Yixing says in Korean, then he returns to Mandarin when he starts speaking with Luhan. “Can you both go to your bedroom, and could you control your boyfriend before he scares my guest away? Please? I’m trying to help him with something, and well, you’re not helping me.”

 

“Sure, fine, whatever. You owe me a better explanation in the morning.”

 

Luhan and Minseok laugh at Yixing and stand to go to the former’s bedroom. “Just a little tip, kid,” Minseok says to Chanyeol, “Yixing-ah never brings boys back to the apartment, so you must be something special. Don’t screw it up. Goodnight.”

 

“Minseok, goddammit, shut up!” Yixing, permanently blushing, curses in Mandarin, and all he gets in response is louder laughter from behind the closed door of Luhan’s room.

 

Yixing turns to look at Chanyeol, whose face for once today is completely unreadable. “Look, Chanyeol-ah, don’t believe anything Minseok said. He’s full of . Come on, we’ll find you somewhere to sleep a-”

 

“Remember when I told you that my father made me hide my emotions?” Chanyeol interrupts Yixing, and the latter nods slowly, not understanding why he’s bringing that up all of a sudden.

 

“Well, he didn’t only want me to hide my tears, or whatever. He didn’t want me to show my love for others, either. I think that’s why he’s never actually told me that he loves me, but that’s neither here nor now. Did you know that I’ve never dated anyone, Yixing? I’ve never had a crush; I’ve never went on a date; I’ve never had a girlfriend, or a boyfriend; I’ve never fallen in love.”

 

Yixing frowns at him and tries to speak, but Chanyeol cuts him off, again. “And, like, don’t think I’m being weird, Xing, but, the whole time we were in the car talking, I never thought about you in that light, as a potential romantic interest. I had never considered it until your roommate, or his boyfriend, or whoever asked you if you had a crush on me. And well, even if you don’t Yixing, I kinda think that maybe….  I have one on you. I don’t know what it’s like, or how it’s supposed to feel, or whatever, but yeah, now that I think about it, this all sounds stupid, but I kinda see myself with you because you-”

 

Yixing moves in front of him, stands on his tippy toes again, and effectively shuts Chanyeol up by kissing him. Chanyeol, stunned and inexperienced, doesn’t know what to do, so to show Yixing that, yes he’s interested, he puts his hand in Yixing’s hair and starts to move his lips. Yixing makes one of his classic hums in response, so Chanyeol assumes he’s doing the right thing.

 

Yixing breaks the kiss first, then places quick pecks on Chanyeol’s lips, nose, and both cheeks. “I didn’t originally have a crush on you either, Chanyeol. Minseok has always been able to see right through me, to see what I’m hiding from others or myself, and I guess that’s what he found today. You’re cute, sweet, kindhearted, loyal to your friends, and, uh, I don’t know; there’s just something special about you, Chanyeol.”

 

Chanyeol smiles his widest grin yet and tries to lean in to kiss Yixing, except he only got the corner of his mouth, causing him to laugh at his unskillfulness. Yixing giggles too, and his cute dimple returns, and Chanyeol once again can’t help himself, so he leans in to kiss his dimple. This only causes Yixing to giggle louder, so Chanyeol tries one more time to kiss him, and surprisingly he is successful at both kissing Yixing, and stopping his laughter.

 

Once the kiss breaks again, Yixing says, “If you want, I can make you a pallet and you can sleep on the floor, or you can take my bed and I’ll sleep on the cou- no I’ll sleep on the floor before I do that.”

 

Chanyeol looks down at him, chuckles, then says, “Hmm, instead of anyone sleeping on the floor, why don’t I just join you in your bed?”

 

“Whaa?” Yixing takes a breath. “I mean, if you’re alright with that? I don’t want to force you into anything.”

 

“Whatever, lead the way Xingxing. I’m sleepy.”

 

The two of them go into Yixing’s bedroom, and Yixing takes off his work slacks and button down, leaving him in a tank top and his boxers. Chanyeol stares at him for a few seconds, before he reminds himself to take off his own jacket and jeans, because Yixing is already crawling into his bed. As soon as he’s left in his t-shirt and boxers, Chanyeol falls into the bed beside Yixing, and as his way of saying goodnight, he spoons Yixing from behind and places a sweet kiss on his temple. In less than five minutes, with Yixing tight in Chanyeol’s arms, they both fall deeply asleep.

 

-

 

The next morning is one of the most bittersweet moments Yixing has ever experienced.

 

When the two of them wake up, Chanyeol kisses him on the cheek and rises to take a shower and put on one of the outfits from his suitcase. Yixing gets up after him and walks into the kitchen to make breakfast for all of them, not caring whether he’s presentable in front of his roommate and his boyfriend.

 

When he enters the kitchen, he sees Luhan and Minseok snuggling on the couch watching tv, and upon noticing Yixing’s existence, they both bombard him with questions about Chanyeol and the status of their relationship and blah, blah, blah. Yixing once again tells them that he will tell them all of the story once he knows more of it himself, and he begins cooking pancakes.

 

When Chanyeol comes out dressed in skinny jeans, a mid-sleeved striped sweater, and a backwards snapback, Yixing’s heart swoons a little. He walks over to where Yixing is by the stove and kisses his cheek. The resident demons hyungs coo at the two of them, and Yixing finds his blush from last night returning.

 

Soon after that, everyone is at the table eating breakfast, before Luhan informs Yixing that he and Minseok are heading out and will be back before tomorrow, probably. Yixing and Chanyeol just laugh and continue talking over breakfast about miscellaneous things, from a guitar duet between the two of them to their favorite type of tea.

 

It’s then that Yixing experiences one of his “most bittersweet moments.” When a gap forms in their conversation over the differences between tea made at home and tea bought in a coffeeshop, Chanyeol randomly says, “I think I’m ready to go home.”

 

Yixing looks up from his plate and wistfully smiles. “Okay, Channie. I’ll drive you to your house; let me get dressed.”

 

After Yixing finishes dressing himself, he picks up his keys from the counter, slides on his shoes at the door, and grabs Chanyeol, and his suitcase and guitar, on his way out of his apartment. Before they make it to the elevator, he stands on his tippy toes and kisses him, and Chanyeol pokes his dimple again, which causes Yixing to forget any sadness he feels about Chanyeol leaving.

 

The drive to Chanyeol’s house felt strangely long and short at the same time: long because silence filled the air, neither knowing quite what to say to the other; short because their time together had been quite that - short.

 

When Yixing pulls into Chanyeol’s driveway, Chanyeol quickly kisses him on the cheek and on the lips; then, he’s leaving with a “I’ll text you!”

 

Yixing leaves, chuckling, after he sees Chanyeol’s mother crush him in a hug and push him into the house. It’s not until he gets back to his apartment and he picks up his guitar that he checks his phone and sees, So we’re still on for a movie date on Tuesday, right?(。⌒∇⌒)。

 

Yixing types back a quick, Of course (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ ), and starts writing a song for a special seventeen year old, happy-go-lucky, always smiling, incredibly gifted and talented boy.