CHRISTMAS IN STOCKHOLM

Byun Baekhyun is everything unfortunate. Parents accidentally shot, abusive caretaker, e guardian, ran away, caught and abandoned at last. But the gods gifted him with a pretty face and he acquired good stamina through practice. His body is ravaged, but he's alive. And he'd rather be dead, but he doesn't throw himself out the window of his client's room, because he wants to see how long someone like him is allowed to keep breathing. How long before nature decides to put him out of his misery.

And salvation is coming soon, he reckons, as he stumbles out the backdoor and into the alley. The biting cold is the only thing keeping him up in his dizzy state -- starving, exhausted, drunk as and a little high. The snow is blinding and he pulls the sleeves of his shirt over his fingers -- stiff and red, but still gripping the crumpled wad of cash.

Each winter is harder than the last, or maybe, he thinks, it's just too tiring to keep going. What's the point when no one cares?

He looks up at the colorless sky and wonders what time it is. It's too late for yesterday, too early for today, and who knows if tomorrow will come. It doesn't really matter anyway, and the thought slips from his mind as he rounds the corner.

Byun Baekhyun's life is a sad and steady decline, then enters Park Chanyeol, and he soars so quickly his heart is lodged in his throat.

They are under the highway and Chanyeol's first line in Baekhyun's story is, "Hi."

So simple.

Baekhyun's eyes crack open at the deep baritone voice. The man crouches down, holds out a hand. Baekhyun stares at the leather gloves and sits up by himself, propped up by the cold wall. The stranger in front of him is half obscured by shadows, but still blindingly bright. He is full of vibrant life, but muted in a black trenchcoat, tailored pants, shiny shoes. 

"My name is Park Chanyeol," the man says. Baekhyun continues staring; he doesn't know what to do for introductions.

He thinks of asking, "What do you want?" but what else is there to want from him other than his receiving ?

"Now you know my name," the man continues, "so we're not strangers anymore. So can you be my boyfriend for Christmas?"

His proposition is simple.

Baekhyun will be given food, clothing, money and somewhere to spend the merry, merry holidays. In return, he will attend various parties and get-togethers as the man's boyfriend, so the elders can stop nagging at him to start a family. Baekhyun has done too many things for food and money, and he accepts without a bat of his eye. 

Park Chanyeol talks without stop during the walk to his car, during the drive to his mansion, during the tour around said mansion. His voice drones on in Baekhyun's ears and it's calming in a way. Apparently he won't die this winter, thanks to this rich and frivolous bachelor. 

The tour ends at the door of Baekhyun's new room. "Take a warm bath, wash up, and you can try on the clothes inside. Dinner will be prepared in two hours, and we can get to know each other better then." The man moves closer as he speaks and ends by gently sweeping Baekhyun's matted fringe out from his eyes. His fingers linger and Baekhyun doesn't flinch at the sudden touch, but doesn't lean in either. He's not here to , he's here to act a part and leave.

He turns the bathwater a murky gray and he still feels dirty in this opulent room. He obvserves his new wardrobe while standing , dripping water staining the lush carpet. And as he glances at his new reflection in the mirror, he thinks that the man has no need to "get to know" him better. Straightening his collar of his fitted shirt, Baekhyun takes one last look at himself before padding down to the dining room. And he tries to remember if he ever told the man his name, if that's necessary. 

Park Chanyeol is clad in an elegant black suit; Byun Baekhyun is dressed similarly, but he gives off a mysterious and weary aura, as if he has experienced too many things in his short life. He smiles politely through the countless introductions, making witty remarks and leaning into his boyfriend's hold. 

"How many aunts do you have?" Baekhyun whispers as they wander, looking for desserts.

Chanyeol ruffles the other's hair and leans in to steal a quick kiss. His lips taste like sweet wine and Baekhyun is a little tipsy. "I'm not really sure, to be honest," he admits. "It's even harder to keep the cousins straight."

"Oh, is that a pun?"

Chanyeol furrows his brows before bursting into laughter; Baekhyun cracks a pleased smile.

"Why me?" Baekhyun asks at another family gathering. 

Chanyeol takes his