[Sunday, August 24, 2014. 6.07 PM]

Wu Yifan, Chanyeol realized not for the first time since they graduated from university and Yifan had told him they should get an apartment together like it had been the most brilliant idea ever, was a cruel man. Otherwise he wouldn’t have it in him to look at Chanyeol from head to toe and freaking smirked like a proud boyfriend.

“You look beautiful,” he said sincerely, as if that would make Chanyeol feel better about his hair and the tight dress. It was hard to breathe, damn it. How come the female population was so fond of body-hugging little dresses was beyond Chanyeol’s comprehension.

“I feel hideous,” Chanyeol stated unflatteringly. “And I look like Yura,” he added, frowning at his reflection in the full body mirror. “If she had wavy hair, that is.”

“Next time we meet, I’m going to relay that particular information to your sister.”

“What information?”

“That you think she’s hideous,” Yifan said matter-of-factly.

“ you. That’s not what I meant,” Chanyeol countered, but minus the heat.

“Of course,” said Yifan, already letting go of the subject to give Chanyeol another appraising look. “We need to get you a bra.”

“A what??”

Well, uh. Let’s backtrack a little to figure out how Chanyeol found himself in this particular situation, shall we?

*

[Friday, August 22, 2014. 5.44 PM]

Chanyeol put off glaring at his housemate in order to grab the glass of water in front of him and took several gulps in one go. The sweet and spicy chicken he’d been chewing on had gone down the wrong way after Yifan had conveniently conveyed his ‘request’ to him. He coughed and patted his chest a few times. Damn that hurt. Once he’d gotten himself under control, Chanyeol gave Yifan an incredulous look.

“You didn’t just ask me that,” said Chanyeol in disbelief.

“I really did,” Yifan said. He put his chopsticks down with all the calmness in the world and went on to look at Chanyeol expectantly. “Say you’re going to help me.”

“Are you crazy? There’s no way I’m gonna do it!” Chanyeol said, earning himself a few odd looks from the other patrons since he’d forgotten to keep his voice down.

Chanyeol had thought it was a little strange that Yifan texted him at work earlier that day, saying he would pick Chanyeol up and take him to dinner. Yifan was not the generous housemate type. Chanyeol had to be extra sneaky just to use Yifan’s lotion every morning before going to work. Nor was he the spontaneous type. Yifan would never willingly take Chanyeol out and feed him good food unless he wanted something out of it. But, what the hell, thought Chanyeol. Even all the sweet and spicy chicken in the world wouldn’t be enough bribery to get Chanyeol to do what Yifan just asked of him.

“Please, Chanyeol. You’re my best friend. Who else would help me out if my best friend wouldn’t?”

“Find a new best friend. I’m not doing it for you,” Chanyeol insisted. He dug back into his chicken and ignored Yifan’s pleading look. Well, more like, tried very hard to ignore him and failing spectacularly at it, because after a few bites Chanyeol put his fork down and sighed. “Look, dude. I’m a guy. Tell me why you asked me instead of, I don’t know, a girl,” he said, already knowing he was going to regret this.

One of the first rules Chanyeol learned on how to survive living under the same roof with Wu Yifan was never try to reason with him. The guy would always find something reasonable to say, no matter how unlikely the circumstances were. And Chanyeol would always bend down to agree with him in the end. But wise was not a word one would associate with Chanyeol anyway. He always made bad decisions and regretted them in the end. To make matters worse, the closer his proximity to Yifan, the worse his ability to make the right decisions would be. People said being in love made you stupid. Chanyeol was experiencing it first hand and not enjoying it the least bit.

“Because you are the only person I can trust to do it. You’re my best friend. You don’t want my parents to marry me off to some girl I’m not interested in the slightest,” Yifan said. “And they will, if I don’t show them I already had someone. You know how they’ve been urging me to settle down for the last two years.”

Chanyeol did indeed not want Yifan to marry some girl his parents would pick for him. Well, any girl, for that matter, really. But Yifan didn’t need to know the real reason for that since it would only cause unnecessary complications and possibly pains on Chanyeol’s end.

“It still does not explain how I can help you with that,” Chanyeol said instead. “You might have missed the little detail that I lack some important female bits, but I doubt that.”

“You look pretty enough to be a girl. We just need to get you some girl clothes and do something about your hair,” Yifan provided readily. “And put a little make up on you.”

Chanyeol’s manly pride bristled at being called looking girly, but the not so tiny part of him which was more than a little in love with Yifan swooned at the backhanded compliment. He mentally thumped that part with an imaginary mallet. Repeatedly.

“Okay. You could dress me up and make me look like a pretty girl all you want. Well, a super tall pretty girl. But you forgot once I speak a single word even the cutest dress in the world wouldn’t be able to hide the fact that I’m a man.”

Instead of falling, Yifan’s expression only brightened up by a triumphant smirk that gave Chanyeol the suspicion that he had to be on to something.

“Weeell,” Yifan trailed off a bit dramatically. “I told mom and dad that I’m seeing this really nice girl who is, unfortunately, a mute. They were a bit remorseful about that but after I explained to them that it doesn’t matter at all and that she’s very good to me, they told me they want to meet this girl and get to know her.”

“You did not,” said Chanyeol.

“I really did,” Yifan said solemnly. “And I told them your name. It sounds pretty in Chinese, you know? Your name. Park Chanlie.”

“You what? You – damn it. You planned this?” Chanyeol said, flabbergasted.

Yifan produced a white envelope from his bag and took two pieces of paper out of it. “I even bought our tickets. We leave in two weeks. You wouldn’t turn down a free three day vacation to China now would you?” Yifan said winningly.

Chanyeol glared at the tickets and then at the owner of the hand presenting them to him. “You bastard,” he whispered furiously. “You set me up!”

Yifan had the gall to look sheepish after Chanyeol’s silent outrage. “Please, Yeol. Just help me out this once. I really don’t want to bring some random girl to meet my parents. And I don’t want them to pester me to meet any girl when I’m there.”

“So you want me to pose as your nonexistent girlfriend in front of them? Dude, you’re crazy. Nuts. Completely mental, that you are,” Chanyeol argued, still refusing to give in despite feeling his resistance slipping.

“Come on, Chanyeol. I’ll owe you big time for this. Next month’s rent’s on me. What do you say?”

“Make it the next two months.”

“Okay. You don’t need to pay rent for the next two months. And I’ll still owe you one after that.”

“Deal,” Chanyeol said, and proceeded to finish up his chicken.

After all, free foods were the best foods.

And for a moment, Chanyeol forgot that he was about to do something that would get himself into a lot of uncomfortable situations, and cause himself a great deal of pain. But that was the thing about crappy life choices; you didn’t realize they were craps until it was too late.

*

[Sunday, August 24, 2014. 6.08 PM]

“I’m not wearing a bra.” Chanyeol shook his head vehemently. “No ing way.”

Yifan gave him a disdainful look.

“It’s really a relief that you’re not going to talk in front of my parents. I don’t need to worry about them being subjected to your potty mouth,” he said. “And, Chanyeol, your chest is so unmistakably flat. Of course we need you to wear a bra with padding to give onlookers a glimpse of some . I think a smaller size will do. You’re a bit on the skinny side, after all.”

“Thanks so ing much,” Chanyeol said flatly.

It was irrational to feel insulted by Yifan’s off handed implication that female-Chanyeol would have small s since he was skinny. But Chanyeol felt that way nonetheless.

“I’m not shopping for girl’s underwear with you,” he told Yifan.

“It’s fine. I’ll just tell the sales person I’m getting them for my girlfriend as a special gift. They would happily help me choose some nice ones,” Yifan said, unperturbed, and picked his tablet computer up from the night stand. “Now let me find out the right size for you.”

Chanyeol shuddered, then immediately stormed out of Yifan’s bedroom. He slammed the door shut for good measure.

A moment later, however, he scampered back into the room and demanded that Yifan help him take the damn dress off and release his too long hair from the clutches of the evil zipper.

*

[Monday, August 25, 2014. 9.04 AM]

Baekhyun gave Chanyeol a look the moment he stepped into work. He stilled his hands on the straps of his backpack to keep them from tugging at his hair, which he’d pulled up into a messy bun at the back of his head. Some strands had escaped and Chanyeol had had to tuck them at the back of his ear, but if that didn’t make him feel even more like a girl.

“Your hair grew a lot over the weekend,” Baekhyun stated with obvious curiosity.

Chanyeol only grunted at his partner and made his way to the office at the back of the studio.

“Seriously though,” said Baekhyun, who’d apparently followed Chanyeol to the office. “How come your hair grew so much in two days?”

“It’s called hair extension, Baek,” said Chanyeol in exasperation. “Now can you just drop it and kindly inform me of your progress on the last wedding shots? I remember you promised you would have them done Monday morning. Monday morning is here.”

God, he sounded like Yifan. He’d been around the guy too much he even sounded like him when he spoke. Chanyeol shook himself to dispel the weird feeling and sat down on his comfortable black leather working chair.

“I was out of town during the weekend, so I didn’t get time to work on them. And I’ve told you this more often than I like to count, but we should hire an assistant. I’m tired of doing the dirty work all the time. I know we earn more than enough to hire one more person,” said Baekhyun. “And why on earth did you get a hair extension all of a sudden?”

Because I agreed to be my housemate’s fake girlfriend and he’d somehow convinced me to get a hair extension two freaking weeks early to get used to having longer hair, Chanyeol didn’t say.

How the hell he’d found Yifan’s reason make sense when he voiced it out to him, Chanyeol really had no idea. It sounded utterly ridiculous now that he thought about it. Now his hair reached just below his shoulder blades in wavy dark brown threads when he let it down. Chanyeol didn’t fancy pondering over how such a single change had made his features look softer and more feminine. He swore to never keep his hair down anywhere public before stepping foot in China, and the first thing he would do the moment they were back in Korea was to get a hair cut and gain his normal appearance back.

“Okay, fine. Put up an ad or something. And I can get an extension whenever I want. Didn’t I tell you to drop it? Now, when are you going to get the photos done? They’re scheduled to be picked up tomorrow, Baek.”

“Actually, I know someone who’s perfect for the job. He’s still in university, but I guess he can work part time. Should I call him in for an interview? And I’ll finish them today, okay? God, you’re prissy.”

“Good. I want them printed, cut, and on my desk this afternoon. Tell the guy to come tomorrow at two.”

“You’re the boss.” Baekhyun gave him a rude two finger salute and sauntered out of the office.

Baekhyun took up one corner of the studio as his working space. He didn’t like to be confined in a small space. So the other room next to Chanyeol’s office served as a kitchen and lounge. They opened a small gallery at the front half of the studio, with a receptionist who dealt with prospective customers and the simply curious visitors.

Chanyeol co-owned the digital photography studio and gallery with Baekhyun. They mostly did projects from advertising companies and magazines, but sometimes they took up offers to do weddings or graduations as well. It was small business, but they were doing quite well considering it had only been up and about for two years. It helped that Chanyeol had freelanced as a photographer since his university days; he’d put his name out there even before they opened their own business. Baekhyun did final editing and all the menial tasks like printing and cutting photographs. It was no easy work. If Chanyeol was not the one who went out to take pictures on the job, he knew Baekhyun would have demanded that he should get a bigger share on the profit.

Chanyeol took out his laptop from his backpack. He pulled at the bun at the back of his head while waiting for his laptop to finish booting. He’d tied it too tight. Yifan had offered to help him tie his hair this morning but Chanyeol had refused. It would feel too intimate, having Yifan’s hands on his hair. If the circumstances had been different, if Chanyeol was not stuck in this weird friendship with Yifan, if Chanyeol knew for sure he could tell Yifan how he actually felt about him and had his feelings returned, Chanyeol would love to have Yifan’s hands on his hair all the time. Damn, not just his hair. He would love to have Yifan’s hands on any part of him all the time.

It wasn’t that Yifan never touched him. They were a pretty tactile pair, always bumping shoulders and casually putting their hands on the other’s back or arm, or even thigh, while they were together. Yifan liked to sling an arm over Chanyeol’s shoulder when they were with friends on occasional weekend meet ups. Or rest his head on Chanyeol’s shoulder, sometimes. But those were different. Those gestures were all casual, all in the friendly zone. Even though their ‘touchy-feely’-ness sometimes earned them a few teasing remarks from their other friends, Chanyeol knew Yifan never meant the touching to be more than friendly. Though, to tell the truth, Yifan sometimes frustrates the hell out of Chanyeol with all the damn friendly touching. Especially when he kept touching Chanyeol even though his date was right there with them.

Chanyeol didn’t date. Most of his friends had questioned him at some point whether he was aual. Which of course he was not, and he had firmly told his friends so. He’d tried dating in the first two years of university. But he didn’t really enjoy the awkwardness and uncertainty of first dates, especially when he just knew he wouldn’t want to go on a second date with the person. After a while he just decided it wasn’t worth it and stopped dating altogether.

It had been easier in high school. He’d had his fair share of ex-girlfriends then. And he had not been aware of his inclinations toward the male half of the population. High school graduate Park Chanyeol was so secure in his heterouality, he never bothered to check out guys he saw on the streets. Why should he? They all had the same equipments as he did after all. It was only in his first year in university that he got to know a certain Wu Yifan and all Chanyeol’s proverbial hell broke loose. 

It had been attraction at the first sight, and that alone had been disturbing enough to Chanyeol because he had never before put the words attracted and a guy in the same sentence. But it had also been easy friendship upon first encounter and Chanyeol simply could not get away despite his better judgment. Thus began Chanyeol’s journey into the dark and depressing place called unrequited love. It was more one sided than unrequited, to tell the truth, since Chanyeol never did find out how Yifan felt about him. But calling it one sided would just give Chanyeol hope and that was just not on. Because Wu Yifan, the infuriating and obliviously cruel guy that he was, had done enough actions that misled poor naïve Chanyeol into thinking that the guy might like him back. Like, all the touching. And calling Chanyeol his date when they were hanging out with the guys and Yifan was dateless. And, well, all the touching. Which, as we’ve established, was all meant in a friendly way and not in the ‘I like you back so I’m touching you all the time’ way.

Chanyeol, despite his reluctance to date anyone (except Yifan, but well, no one knew about that besides Chanyeol himself), was pretty open about being gay to his friends. His attraction to Yifan had opened a new door Chanyeol hadn’t been aware existed, and he could admit now that he did appreciate fit and good looking guys like all normal gay guys. Wait. Normal gay guys, was that an oxymoron? Anyway. He did not think it was funny that Yifan casually called Chanyeol ‘baby’ in front of their friends. And even in front of his date, at times. He really couldn’t understand how Yifan would think so. Chanyeol couldn’t even guess what the guy was thinking half the times, though. So Chanyeol had decided to just let it be the default state of things rather than try to figure out the workings of Yifan’s brain. Besides, Yifan’s mind was most probably a very weird place. Chanyeol would rather not go there.

So, yeah. It was just better for the wellbeing of Chanyeol’s already battered heart to not hope. And Chanyeol had been trying to do that. Trying being the operative word here. The success rate was marginal at best. And borderline pathetic most of the times, really. But that, Chanyeol realized with resignation sometime in his second year of silently pining over Wu Yifan, was also the default state of things.  

Noticing that his laptop had finished booting, Chanyeol forcefully shoved all thoughts of Yifan to the very back of his brain and got to work. The company website wouldn’t update itself after all.

*

[Saturday, September 6, 2014. 11.49 AM]

The custom officer eyed Chanyeol funny when checking his passport. Chanyeol gritted his teeth and forced an oblivious smile. He did not look that much different than the person in his passport picture, damn it. There was no need to give him that look. He wasn’t even wearing his fake bra. Yet.

Fortunately the guy didn’t ask questions and wordlessly handed Chanyeol’s passport back after finishing his inspection. Chanyeol mumbled a half hearted thank you and made his way to the already waiting Yifan.

“You should change now,” Yifan said as soon as Chanyeol stepped next to him. He was a shopping bag containing Chanyeol’s change of clothes in the other.

“Can’t it wait?” asked Chanyeol.

“My cousin is picking us up. You need to be a girl when you meet,” said Yifan in a level tone and handed Chanyeol the shopping bag.

Chanyeol suppressed a groan and snatched the bag rather forcefully from his housemate. He found a deserted women restroom and entered an empty stool. He took off his T-shirt and eyed the outfit Yifan had picked for him. Yifan had given up on making Chanyeol agree wearing another dress after Chanyeol’s insistence to refuse, following the disastrous zipper incident. The blouse was long enough to reach his thighs, which was useful in covering a certain bulge in the crotch area. It was made of some really soft material; was it satin? It looked like it. Trust Yifan to throw away money on girl clothes that wouldn’t even be of use after all this travesty was over. Or maybe he was planning on giving them to his next girlfriend or whatever, who knew? Chanyeol shrugged off that particular thought and went on to rummage the shopping bag for the underwear he was sure Yifan wouldn’t forget. Once he’d found the bra (and the padding), Chanyeol took a deep breath and slowly let it out, then proceeded to tackle the complexity of putting on female clothes. At least it wasn’t a dress. Chanyeol supposed he should count his blessings.

Twenty minutes later Chanyeol walked out. His outfit was quite nice. The blouse was soft on his shaved skin, and the denim pants were not too tight. The bra gave him this weird feeling like it was hard to breathe, but if Chanyeol didn’t think about it he could almost ignore its existence. He’d let his hair down and put on some make up. Yifan had given him some free lessons, though unwillingly on Chanyeol’s part. But Chanyeol really couldn’t deny the wonder putting on the tiniest bit of make up could do to change how someone looked. Staring into the mirror, Chanyeol had been a bit awed by the girl looking back at him. He’d changed his sneakers with a pair of flat shoes. All in all, he looked like a girl to any pair of eyes that was looking his way. Well, except Yifan’s, obviously.

He awkwardly made his way to his housemate. Yifan was giving him that look, the one that made Chanyeol’s inside squirm, and Chanyeol scowled at the guy to cover his self-consciousness. Not acknowledging Chanyeol’s displeasure, Yifan smiled in satisfaction and reached out a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind Chanyeol’s left ear.

“You look nice,” he told Chanyeol. Then he offered his hand and said, “Let’s go.”

Chanyeol took two seconds to brace himself before taking Yifan’s offered hand. It was a little silly since this was not their first time holding hands, but looking at their intertwined hands, Chanyeol felt thrilled nonetheless. As they made their way to the exit, Chanyeol hoped like hell that Yifan could not feel his escalating heartbeat.

Yifan’s cousin was almost as tall as Chanyeol, and as excited to see Yifan as a puppy that had just gotten a little toy bone to play with. The moment the guy caught sight of them walking out of the arrival gate, Yifan was tackled by the almost two meter tall man-child who immediately burst into rapid fire Mandarin which Chanyeol did not understand the slightest. Feeling awkward, Chanyeol took a look at his surroundings in attempt to distract himself while waiting for the dramatic reunion to be done with.

When he focused his attention back to the two cousins, he found himself being subjected to a pair of curious eyes. Wow, Chanyeol thought, those were really sharp eyes. They looked nice on the face they came with though. Chanyeol was about to open his mouth to produce a greeting when he caught himself, remembering he was supposed to be mute. Oh well. He decided to offer a polite small and a forty five degree bow instead.

The smile Yifan’s cousin broke into transformed his face so completely, Chanyeol was almost convinced this guy was actually as soft as a real puppy despite having the look of an undercover ninja.

“Hello,” he greeted Chanyeol in an accented Korean. “I’m Zitao, Yifan-hyung’s younger cousin. Nice to meet you!”

Chanyeol only smiled and titled his head in a slight bow. Man, but this was awkward. His hair fell over his shoulder, dark brown strands curtaining the side of his face. Chanyeol found himself wondering not for the first time what he had gotten himself into.

*

[Saturday, September 6, 2014. 10.16 PM]

Chanyeol plopped down face first into the bed and let out a huge sigh of relief. He believed he had just spent the longest and most unnerving ten hours of his life and survived. It was rather miraculous, Chanyeol thought, that he managed to keep himself from blurting out a single word during the ten hours he had been subjected to the attention of Yifan’s whole family – which consisted of his parents, his cousin Zitao, and Zitao’s parents, who for some reason had decided they should be present when Yifan formally introduced his ‘girlfriend’ to his parents, and after. Chanyeol wondered how they would have reacted had he slipped and actually spoken. He shuddered and pushed the mental image to the far back of his mind.

“The shower’s empty,” Yifan’s voice pulled Chanyeol out of his musing. Chanyeol turned his head and found himself facing a half and still wet Wu Yifan, who did not appear the slightest bit self-conscious sauntering out of the bathroom with only a towel slung low on his slender hips. There was such thing as overconfidence, Chanyeol believed, and Wu Yifan might have a moderate case of narcissistic personality disorder. That, however, did not stop him from openly ogling the expanse of skin on display under the pretense of glowering at Yifan.

God, the guy was so perfect Chanyeol got a little breathless looking at him in a single towel and nothing else. Yifan was rummaging his suitcase for clothes and was turning away from Chanyeol, displaying his equally half- backside. Chanyeol could see the muscles on his back ripple as Yifan’s shoulder blades moved, and Chanyeol felt his chest tighten at the sight. Though now that he was no longer actively trying to ignore its existence, it could have been the bra he was still wearing.

Chanyeol got up to a sitting position and took the blouse off without ceremony. Damn it, how did he take off the bra? He bent his arms backwards and tried to reach the tiny clasps on the middle upper part of his back. However, his arms were not used to bending that way, so he managed to hold onto the straps for a moment but had to retreat his hands before he could unhook the thing. He tried several more times, but his hair kept on getting in the way. Frustrated, Chanyeol let out a low growl and called out, “Help me take of the ing bra before I decide to tear this thing into pieces. Please.”

Yifan, still half but was now wearing a pair of low slung flannel pants, turned around and gave Chanyeol his raised eyebrow ‘you’re being ridiculous’ look. Then his expression changed into something Chanyeol couldn’t read as he noticed Chanyeol’s equal state of half-ness, with the black lacy bra in contrast with his pale skin, the padding noticeable where Chanyeol’s nonexistent cleavage should be.

“Are you trying to seduce me with your fake s and filthy mouth?” Yifan asked evenly, but Chanyeol caught the glint in his eyes and knew Yifan was actually teasing him rather than being serious.

“Shut the up and come here,” he said.

Yifan obliged and made his way to the bed.

“Turn around,” he ordered Chanyeol, who glared at him but did as he was told anyway.

“I can’t believe your parents actually get us to room together,” Chanyeol said a little distractedly as Yifan’s fingers worked at the straps of his bra. They felt cool against Chanyeol’s back and he had to suppress a shiver as Yifan’s knuckles occasionally brushed his skin.

“They assumed we’ve slept in the same room countless times before, so they don’t see the difference putting you and me in separate rooms would make. Besides, I imagine they’re hoping we’re giving them a grandchild soon,” Yifan offered calmly just before his hands left Chanyeol’s back and Chanyeol could feel the tightness around his chest disappear. There was some lingering feeling of breathlessness, but that was more due to Yifan’s proximity with his back rather than anything else. Chanyeol ignored that feeling and opted to react to what Yifan had just said instead.

“Oh my God, your poor parents,” he moaned dramatically as he turned around. “And what are you gonna tell them once we ‘break up’ before there is any grandchild to speak of?”

“Don’t burden yourself, it will be my problem. By the time I have to explain that to them, you will be out of the picture. Well, the female you anyway,” said Yifan.

Chanyeol gave Yifan a dirty look and kicked him on the shin. He ignored Yifan’s pained yowl and got off from the bed.

“I’m taking a shower,” he said, making his way to the bathroom. He managed to not slam the bathroom door only after reminding himself the whole house might hear and he did not need the questioning that would most probably follow. 

Once in the shower, Chanyeol replayed the event earlier in his head and shook his head. Normally Chanyeol would be happy to be kept out of Yifan’s family problems. It was not that he didn’t care, but the other’s family matter was something the two of them never interfered with. He didn’t understand why it stung as much as it did, hearing Yifan saying Chanyeol would be out of the picture as easily as he just did. Maybe it was because Chanyeol had now seen Yifan’s family in person. He’d just been around them for ten hours and he’d accidentally thought himself a part of them, being the fool he was.

It had actually been rather pleasant, being around Yifan’s family even though he couldn’t understand a single thing they were saying aside from the occasional ‘yes’, ‘pretty’, ‘good’, and ‘delicious’ mentioned once in a while.

When they arrived from the airport, Yifan’s whole family had welcomed them on the foyer and Yifan’s mom had looked at Chanyeol with this assessing stare one would give on their first meeting with their potential daughter-in-law. It had felt like years before she broke into this very nice smile and beckoned Chanyeol to step closer. When Chanyeol did, he was pulled into a firm and warm hug and Yifan’s mom said something in Chinese. Yifan translated for him, and Chanyeol had nearly broken into tears because she had said, ‘You’re a very fine young woman. Thank you for looking after my son’ to Chanyeol.

After that, everyone ushered them to come inside and a small feast ensued. Which involved dishes of delicious food Chanyeol wouldn’t have any trouble finishing on his own had he not been pretending to be a proper young woman in her first dinner with her future in-laws. He still managed to eat quite a lot, since Yifan’s mom would put bits of meat or vegetables on his bowl every three minutes, saying what Tao told him meant ‘Eat more, you need more meat in that skin’.

Not being expected to speak turned out to be a good thing, Chanyeol reflected, as he would probably make an of himself had his mouth been given free reign to spout out the nonsense as he did on a regular basis. And no one asked him difficult questions, since he wouldn’t be able to answer. As a result, all explaining fell onto Yifan’s shoulder, and the guy spent almost half the day alternatively answering and fending off questions from either his or Tao’s mother. Tao would occasionally whisper translations to Chanyeol and Chanyeol gave him a grateful look because as nice as not being expected to explain things was, he felt a little lost in all the Chinese being flung left and right.

They were all nice people, Yifan’s family was. Chanyeol felt a pang of guilt stabbing him in the chest realizing that he was deceiving every one of them. Their hospitality and acceptance was not directed at him, but at the woman he was pretending to be. And Chanyeol was not that woman. Chanyeol was a man. He might love Yifan just as much as the woman him supposedly did, but he was a man and the fact changed everything. Yifan didn’t even know Chanyeol felt that way toward him. Chanyeol didn’t know what missing something he never had felt like before this, but now he understood why people said it hurt. 

When Chanyeol walked out of the bathroom, Yifan was sitting on the right side of the bed, reading a book with his back against the headboard. He had his reading glasses on. Damn, he looked really good wearing glasses; Chanyeol almost forgot that he was pissed at him. With great effort he managed to look away and make his way to his suitcase to look for something comfortable to sleep in. He found a pair of shorts and a worn t-shirt that he’d decided to bring at the last moment. He’d rather sleep wearing a tank top or shirtless, to be honest. But Chanyeol was not going to sleep in the same bed with Yifan without wearing a shirt, thank you very much. He was already in a quite uncomfortable situation; he did not want to complicate matters.

Yifan noticed him, finally, and put his book down on his lap. “Hey. You don’t mind that I picked this side of the bed, do you?” he said.

“No,” said Chanyeol. “I’m fine with either side. A bed’s a bed.” He made his way to his side of the bed and hoped really hard that his face didn’t show how nervous he was actually feeling. This would be the first time he and Yifan slept in the same bed. They’d been living together for two years, and had fallen asleep in the living room together more times than he could count, but they had never shared a bed before. Chanyeol knew Yifan talked in his sleep, sometimes in three different languages. He slept like the dead, Chanyeol once tripped on him on his way to the bathroom and even that didn’t wake him up. Chanyeol supposed sleeping in a bed wouldn’t change anything.

“What time are we expected to be up tomorrow?” asked Chanyeol as he made himself comfortable.

“I assume my mom will come knocking on the bedroom door by seven o’clock,” said Yifan, eyes already back on his book.

Chanyeol groaned. “Seven o’clock. Great. I should go to sleep now then.”

“Good idea,” said Yifan. Chanyeol saw him placing his bookmark on the page he was currently reading before closing the book and putting it on the night stand. Chanyeol turned to his side so his back was facing Yifan, feeling too awkward to look at him. Besides, he felt if Yifan saw his face, Yifan would definitely notice that he was having a mini freaking out.

Chanyeol closed his eyes and willed his heartbeat to slow down. Come on, he told himself. He’d known Yifan for years and had been living with him for two of them. He’d seen Yifan drunk out of his mind and witnessed how unattractive a hung-over Yifan was. Well, he’d never known of someone who looked attractive while barfing their guts out but that was beside the point.

Chanyeol felt Yifan getting out of the bed and a moment later the room turned dark. The bed dipped a little when Yifan got back in the bed, but Chanyeol was too busy pretending to be asleep feel bothered.

“Hey, Chanyeol,” Yifan said so softly it almost sounded like a whisper.

“Hmm?” Chanyeol hummed and refused to turn around. He was pretending to sleep, wasn’t he?

“Thank you for today,” said Yifan. There was a rustle of movement before Chanyeol felt something on the side of his head. It was only for a single second and it was so light Chanyeol was not sure if he had not been imagining it. But then he heard Yifan’s voice right next to his ear, saying, “Good night, Chanyeol-ah.” and Chanyeol disintegrated.

What the hell. Wu Yifan just kissed him good night. What. The. ing. Hell.

Chanyeol wanted to turn around and demand that Yifan explain what on earth just happened, but he was too busy falling into a million blissful pieces.

*

[Sunday, September 7, 2014. 8.19 AM]

“Noona, look at this one,” said an overenthusiastic Tao, beckoning Chanyeol to take a look at the photo album on his lap. Chanyeol scooted closer and looked at the particular picture Tao meant to show him. It was of a young Yifan, he looked around nine or ten, glaring at the camera. He looked exactly like the grown up version who was currently sitting across from them at the other side of the coffee table, glaring at them. Chanyeol wished so hard he could speak and point out the frightening similarity to Yifan but since he could not, he opted to give Yifan an amused look instead. In the interval of two days Chanyeol had mastered the art of laughing with his eyes. The ensuing effect was almost as satisfactory as laughing out loud. Almost.

Yifan’s mother said something from Chanyeol’s other side. Chanyeol looked at her, then turned to look at Tao questioningly. But it was Yifan who translated for him. “She said I’ve hated being photographed since I was little. I have the same expression in all my childhood photos.”

And Yifan was not lying. Yifan’s mom showed Chanyeol all the childhood pictures of Yifan they had in the house and Chanyeol almost never saw a smiling Yifan in any of the pictures, unless it was taken without his knowledge. There was one picture of a teenage him playing basketball and he looked so happy, Chanyeol couldn’t help but stare at it in awe.

“Yifan-hyung has always loved playing basketball,” said Tao. “He was the captain of his middle school team.”

Oh wow. Chanyeol had not known that. He knew Yifan played basketball. They even played together with their friends some weekends. But he’d never known Yifan had been a club captain at school. They’d known each other for almost six years now, and Chanyeol thought he knew a lot about Yifan, being his housemate and his best friend. But in these two days Chanyeol had been finding out just how much he still hadn’t known about the person he believed he was in love with. There were still sides of Wu Yifan Park Chanyeol realized he was not familiar with. It was not exactly a nice realization.

“It was only for a few months. We relocated to Canada in my third year and my parents only came back here after I decided to go to university in Korea,” said Yifan. He looked at Chanyeol pointedly as if he could hear what Chanyeol was thinking. Since that was impossible, unless Yifan had a mindreading super power that he never bothered to mention to Chanyeol, Chanyeol decided to ignore him and went back to looking at Yifan’s childhood pictures.

He was still a little unsettled by the kiss the night before. It was not even a real kiss, since it was on the side of Chanyeol’s head, but Chanyeol insisted to himself he had a solid reason to feel as rattled as he was feeling at the moment. Because you didn’t give your housemate slash male best friend a good night kiss on the head while the two of you were in bed together. Especially when said housemate slash best friend was pretending to be a girl for you in front of your family, who was not even in the room with you. It was almost like giving a good night kiss on the forehead. If you did that your housemate slash best friend would get confused because he would not be able to decide if you did it as part of the pretence or you just wanted to because you, well, liked said housemate.

If Chanyeol’s mind were a room, at the moment the inside would look like someone just decided to turn everything in it upside down. You would find a sock and a broken chair stuck on the ceiling and the bed on top of the mattress, and Chanyeol’s sanity buried somewhere among the pile of clothes and torn book pages. All because of a good night kiss on the head. Chanyeol had wanted to ask Yifan what it had meant earlier this morning, but then decided against it. What if Yifan thought it as nothing but a nice gesture to show his appreciation of Chanyeol’s helping him? Chanyeol would feel stupid if that was the case, so he just pretended he was not bothered by the kiss. Besides, it was only a good night kiss. It was not even a real kiss. Damn it.

*

[Sunday, September 7, 2014. 3.09 PM]

Chanyeol was going to die. Wait. No, he was going to kill Wu Yifan. He had decided the moment they came back to Seoul the next day that would be the first thing he did. He would kill Wu Yifan with a fork. That would be painful, Chanyeol thought. And Wu Yifan deserved it.

The reason of this rather sudden vindictive thought was the girl, well – young woman, currently pushing Chanyeol into the changing room with a mountain on outfits she wanted Chanyeol to try. Women outfits. And Chanyeol was trying his best to keep the girl from getting into the changing room with him without actually voicing out ‘No , you stay here, I will change by myself’. Eventually Yifan told the girl to leave Chanyeol to change alone and only then the girl gave in, but not before giving Chanyeol a stern look. “You have to get out after putting on each outfit, you understand?” she said in English. Chanyeol nodded and immediately disappeared into the changing room.

Just before lunch today, the girl showed up at Yifan’s parents’, announcing her presence so unreservedly like she came by all the time. Which seemed to be the case. She looked familiar with Yifan’s parents and cousin. But what shocked Chanyeol the most was the way she acted around Yifan. The moment the girl saw Yifan, she rushed to him and threw herself into his embrace, saying “Oh my God, you’re really here!” in a very fluent English.

Chanyeol had seen Yifan with lots of women before. Most of them he never saw for the second time. Not to say he was not bothered by their mere presence, because who wouldn’t be jealous seeing the guy they liked with someone other than themselves? But Yifan was never serious with any of them. The guy was a real player, though Chanyeol hadn’t seen him with a date for months now. But this girl, Chanyeol knew the moment he saw her with Yifan, was different.

Her name was Claire, short from Clarice Leung. She was a Canadian born Chinese and went to the same high school with Yifan in Vancouver. She worked for an international consultant company and was transferred to their branch office in Beijing last year. Since she had known Yifan’s family from their high school days, she visited them often after she lived in the same city. And after only half an hour of getting to know Chanyeol through a very uncomfortable – on Chanyeol’s part, one-sided English conversation, she decided they should go shopping together.

That was how Chanyeol found himself inside the changing room of one of the largest malls in the middle of Beijing, struggling to put on a frilly pink dress for the amusement of Yifan’s female high school buddy. And Yifan had just gone with it. No objection whatsoever.

“Thanks so ing much, boyfriend dear,” he muttered under his breath.

He could hear voices from the outside. It sounded like Yifan and Claire were talking in English. Chanyeol did not speak English all that much, but he understood the language rather well. He should have pretended to not understand it, he thought, and he could have ignored the girl when she’d been talking to him. Maybe he could have avoided getting dragged into this shopping escapade as well. But well, no need crying over spilt milk, Chanyeol told himself, and proceeded to undress.

The dress had this really long zipper at the back and Chanyeol almost pulled a muscle trying to zip it up. Getting into the dress alone already took great effort. By the time he finished tying the straps into a passable bow on the right side of his waist Chanyeol was almost out of breath from exertion. He eyed the pair of seven inch heels Claire had picked for him skeptically. They looked scary. What if he tripped and broke his ankles? No, Chanyeol decided, he was not going to wear them. He wouldn’t even need to explain to the girl why. Ha.

Chanyeol was putting on his flat shoes when he caught the tail of Claire’s sentence and decided to pay more attention to the conversation going on outside.

“…a job offer in Seoul and you were there. I just missed you so much I said yes without thinking. I thought, maybe we could try again, you know? It sounded like a good idea at that time. We never really broke up anyway. You just suddenly told me you were going to university in Korea and you didn’t expect me to wait for you. God, you were such a jerk. You never even bothered to mention that you were planning to go to Korea. I wonder why I fell for you sometimes, you know?”

“Sorry about that,” Chanyeol heard Yifan say. “I still didn’t know what to do with my life at that time. Going to study in Korea just seemed like a good option.”

“Like a said, a jerk,” said Claire, but she was half laughing. “To think I was so excited to tell you about my impending move to Seoul and finally meeting you… God, Kris you didn’t have a clue how crushed I was after that phone call. I didn’t even get to tell you about my transfer. You just picked up my call and said, ‘Claire, I think I’m in love.’ I was like, ‘What the hell, man?’”

Yifan chuckled, but he sounded apologetic when he said, “Well, your timing was rather off. I was in the middle of a significant identity crisis when you called, and I just blurted it out without thinking.”

“You didn’t say,” said Claire. “So yeah. I failed to ask you to get back together and knew then moving to Seoul was not a good idea, so I called my boss and asked whether he could change my transfer location. It was fortunate he hadn’t finalized the whole thing and offered me a position at the Beijing branch. Saying yes to that was the greatest idea I’ve ever had. Living near your parents is the closest I’ve been to heavens. You mom cooks the most delicious foods.”

“You could’ve just transferred to Seoul, you know. I would appreciate having you there, still,” said Yifan. “And it’s not a bad place to live in, too.”

“Nah. I didn’t want to be around when you were trying to get together with someone else. I thought I would be very jealous, you know. You know how possessive I can get,” said Claire. “So I was surprised of my own reaction to your girlfriend. I didn’t expect I’d like her, but I did. It’s her, then, the girl you said you were in love with?”

“I never said – wait, don’t you think she’s taking a long time in the changing room?”

“Yeah. It’s already more than fifteen minutes. I’ll go check,” Claire said.

“No,” Yifan said immediately. “I’ll go, you stay here.”

“It’s girls’ changing room, you know.”

“And she’s my girlfriend. Just wait here,” Chanyeol heard Yifan said decisively, before there was a knock from the outside.

Only then Chanyeol noticed he was now sitting on the floor of the changing room with his knees bent to his chest. He didn’t remember when he’d slid down the wall. He supposed he’d felt his legs go weak at some point.

“Yeol-ah, you okay?” Yifan asked from the outside. He’d switched back to speaking Korean.

Chanyeol struggled to his feet and tried his best to tidy up his rumpled dress in a few short seconds. He almost yelled ‘I’m fine.’ back at Yifan before catching himself.

“Open the door, I’m coming in.” Yifan’s tone bore no argument, so Chanyeol unlocked the door.

“Sorry I’m taking so long. I had trouble trying to put on the shoes,” he said in half a whisper, gesturing at the shoes on the floor.

“You heard us,” he stated, not sounding the slightest bit uncertain. Chanyeol hated him so much for that he wished he could say it to Yifan’s face.

“I didn’t –,” Chanyeol tried to say, but he felt like a huge lump in his throat was preventing him from voicing more words out. Maybe this was how a real mute person felt, he thought. He clenched his jaws, feeling his face grow hot. The telltale prickle at the corners of his eyes was his last warning before he realized, oh God, he was going to cry.

At this very moment, Chanyeol felt so stupid his mother would be ashamed to have a son like him.

*

[Sunday, September 7, 4.18 PM]

Chanyeol felt like he had just experienced the most embarrassing moment in his life and wished so hard a hole would appear under his feet and swallow him whole. But just like most of the things Chanyeol had ever wished for, it wasn’t granted. So Chanyeol figured he should have endured the embarrassment for a bit more.

In the midst of Chanyeol’s untimely break down, Yifan had told Claire they were going to leave first because Chanyeol was not feeling well. Chanyeol had been too occupied in trying to gain back control over his tear ducts he hadn’t bothered to look at her. He supposed he’d looked kind of ill, that was why Claire had been easily convinced. She wished Chanyeol a get better soon and Chanyeol remembered he’d managed to give her a slight nod.

Chanyeol was slightly aware of people’s stares, but Yifan’s arm around him was steady and his steps sure. So Chanyeol tried his best to ignore the stares. He thought Yifan was going to take them back to his parents’. But instead, he’d led Chanyeol to the elevator and ridden it to the second floor where, Chanyeol learned the moment they stepped out, a hotel lobby was located. Then, to Chanyeol’s amazement, Yifan proceeded to book a room.

“I can’t believe you booked us a hotel room!” Chanyeol half yelled the moment they were inside the elevator taking them to their room. His voice sounded a little off, like he’d swallowed too much lime or something. His throat felt sore even though he hadn’t been crying that hard.

“We can’t talk at home with my parents around,” Yifan said. He still sounded so levelheaded Chanyeol wanted to claw at his handsome face and ruin it forever.

“So you booked us a hotel room to talk?! What kind of person booked a hotel room to talk? The receptionist probably thinks you’re going to screw me into the mattress all evening.”

“She has all the justification she needs to be assuming that,” Yifan said. “But what we actually do is none of her business.”

The elevator stopped on the eleventh floor and Yifan motioned at Chanyeol to get out before him. Their room was at the far end of the hall. Yifan unlocked the door and once again beckoned to Chanyeol to step in before him. Chanyeol was baffled by the rare act of gentlemanliness, but he decided not to comment.

The room was spacious, but more on the plain side. The queen bed was covered in black and white sheets and the cream colored walls were bare except for the lone painting above the headboard. It looked like some scenery in the fall season, of trees with leaves in various shades of yellow, orange, red, and brown. The only furniture in the room was the bed, the nightstand, the table and lone coach on the far side of the room. Oh, there was a wardrobe by the entrance, Chanyeol reminded himself. Once he finished his inspection of the room, he turned around to face Yifan, who had been watching him silently since they stepped inside. And suddenly everything came rushing back to Chanyeol.

“Go on, then,” said Yifan. “You can yell at me all you want now.”

So Chanyeol grabbed a pillow from the bed and threw it at Yifan with all the strength he could muster, crying, “You ing bastard!” and proceeded to call Yifan all variations of curses he could think of – from heartless jerkface to stupid pea-brained head (which was a little redundant, considering all three basically meant the same thing).

“I hate you so much, I wish I could smash your stupid face in and turn you into the ugliest person on earth,” he told Yifan. “I was so stupid. , I was so stupid. I posed as a freaking girl in front of your whole family, pretending to be your girlfriend. I even got a freaking hair extension for you! I lied to your parents without even saying a single word. I know I’m not innocent and pure, but just how bad of a person do you think I am? Do you think I didn’t feel guilty every time your mother told me to eat more food? Or when your family talked to me and I only smiled and pretended I couldn’t speak? But I did it all for you!”

Chanyeol didn’t know when he’d started pacing, but when he realized he was doing it, he couldn’t stop. He ran a hand through his hair for what felt like the hundredth time. His hair had to look like a mess right now, but he couldn’t care less.

Chanyeol let out a shuddered breath. He felt so mad at Yifan. He felt cheated. Betrayed. But above all, Chanyeol felt sad. So sad Chanyeol wanted to cry and scream and let Yifan know how hard it had been, keeping what he felt from him all this time.

“But you know what pissed me off the most?” Chanyeol went on, “It’s that you lied to me. You lied to me, saying you couldn’t ask anyone else. When all this time, your ing ex-girlfriend lived here and you could’ve just asked her. You wouldn’t have needed to buy her a ing plane ticket, even. I don’t know why you had to ask me. And you made me say yes, you ing prick. You tricked me. And I’m so stupid. You said I’m your best friend, but you lie to me, Yifan. And you keep things from me. You told your ing ex about it but you didn’t tell me. You should’ve told me you’re in love with someone, you . It would’ve saved me all the trouble. You didn’t know how I felt all this time, being around you and seeing you bringing a different girl every week. You should’ve told me you’re actually in love with someone then I could’ve stopped hoping. But damn it, you didn’t even have the guts to say it to that person. Or else you wouldn’t even need to ask someone to pretend for you. Wu Yifan, you’re an utter bastard. And I hate you so ing much.”

Chanyeol stopped his pacing, feeling his legs starting to hurt, and dropped onto the couch. He finally did it. He told Yifan how he felt about him, thought not straightforwardly. Chanyeol felt a bizarre sense of relief wash over him. He was free now. It was all out in the open and he didn’t need to pretend he didn’t love Yifan any longer. But Yifan loved someone else. And Chanyeol finally found out what it meant to have your heart broken into pieces.

Yifan was still standing at the same spot since they came in, and Chanyeol had this urge to push him against the wall and either punch him or kiss him, he couldn’t decide which one he wanted to do the most. It was a good thing he was too tired to do any physical pushing then, he thought. Doing that would require him to stand up and walk. He’d rather stay seated and breathe, thank you very much.

“Now say something, you . You’re making me feel even more like an idiot by not talking,” said Chanyeol.

Chanyeol was not really sure if he wanted to know what Yifan was thinking, to be honest. What would any straight guy think upon finding out their guy friend was actually in love with them? Freaked out, Chanyeol guessed. Maybe Yifan was freaking out and wasn’t capable of making coherent conversation at the moment. Maybe he was trying to decide the most polite way to turn Chanyeol down. Like, Chanyeol I know you’re a great person and all, but I don’t like . Nah, Yifan wouldn’t put it that way. He was way too proper for that kind of crass language. Maybe he would say, ‘While I’m flattered that you possess such feelings toward me, I regret to say that I cannot return them, Chanyeol. As you know, I only like women.’ Yeah, that sounded more like Yifan.

“You’re off into your own head, aren’t you?” Yifan’s voice sounded closer than it was supposed to be, it startled Chanyeol out of his rumination. When he gained back awareness of his surroundings, he noticed that Yifan was now standing right in front of him and Chanyeol was currently staring at his crotch. Chanyeol tipped his head back to look at Yifan’s face. And Yifan, the bastard, was actually smiling at him. Not a smirk, but a real, perfectly curved smile. Chanyeol wanted so much to kiss that smile. Oh dear, he thought. Park Chanyeol, you’re doomed.

“Park Chanyeol, you’re such an idiot,” was what Yifan finally said. Chanyeol only stared at Yifan uncomprehendingly because Yifan was shaking his head and he was still smiling. That smile should have come with a caution, Chanyeol thought. It turned Chanyeol’s brain cells into mush the moment he saw it. “And you don’t really hate me, now do you?” Chanyeol shook his head, still unable to produce words.

Yifan moved. Chanyeol thought he was going to take a seat on the couch next to him, but to Chanyeol’s mortification, Yifan actually dropped down to the floor with more grace than Chanyeol could ever muster and sat crossed legs right in front of him.

“What the hell are you doing?” Chanyeol asked, because nothing could surprise someone into gaining back their vocal functions like witnessing their best friend who never sat on the floor did exactly that.

“Getting comfortable,” Yifan said matter-of-factly. “And talking to you.”

“You’re sitting on the floor,” Chanyeol said, pointing out the obvious.

“I know. It’s more comfortable like this. I want to be able to look at your face while I’m talking to you,” said Yifan. “Now, since we established that you’re an idiot and you don’t actually hate me, we should move on, shall we?”

“What the –”

Yifan put his forefinger in front of his lips as a ‘just shut up for now’ gesture and Chanyeol was forced to cut his exclamation short.

“For your information, Claire and I went out in high school. It was more than eight years ago. And we broke up when I left for university in Korea. We never got back together after that. Even though it turned out she wanted to get back with me last year, it never actually happened because she didn’t ask me. And even if she did, I would’ve said no. Because yes, as a matter of fact, I am in love with someone else. I have been for a while. This person I’m in love with is rather oblivious. I’ve been working hard to make them realize that I, in fact, have feelings for them. But this person just never gets it. I tried making them jealous by bringing a different date every week, that didn’t work. I treated them as my date, I called them sweetheart and baby in front of everyone. They still didn’t get it. I touched them every chance I had, and that sometimes got me a reaction, but they still thought I was only playing around. So I thought I should take them home and introduce them to my parents. And I did ask them, you know. And they said yes.”

“So why didn’t you take her, then? Why am I here instead of her?” asked Chanyeol, still not comprehending why Yifan was telling him all this. He was also still recovering from the anguish that shot through him from hearing Yifan admit that he was indeed in love with someone else.

“Because, Chanyeol, you idiot, there was no her. I did ask someone to come with me, didn’t I? That someone is the person I’m in love with. And he is so oblivious, even now he still doesn’t get that I’m practically declaring my love for him.”

“Wait. What?” Chanyeol stared at Yifan, incredulous. “You love me??”

Yifan gave Chanyeol a self deprecating smile and shrugged. “That’s what I’ve been trying to put across for the last ten minutes, yes. A normal person would already get it right about now, honestly.”

“Wait. But I – All this time, I’ve been in love with you too,” Chanyeol said. He couldn’t believe he finally got to say it like that. That single ‘too’ added a whole new perspective to this matter. Like, wow, it’s actually not as one-sided as he thought after all.

“I know,” said Yifan. “You’re an open book. Anyone who knows where to look would be able to see what you’re feeling. I’ve been looking, you know. That’s why I said you’re an idiot. You’re too occupied by your own feelings that you fail to notice I’ve been trying to get you to see that I feel the same. You’re always looking at me too, but you don’t really see me, do you?”

Chanyeol stared at Yifan some more. “What the hell are you talking about?” he said. “Of course I see you.”

Yifan chuckled and shook his head in what appeared to be amusement. Trust him to get amused when they were actually talking about feelings.

“Why don’t you get down here, then?” he told Chanyeol.

“Why should I?” asked Chanyeol because, well, he just felt like arguing some more.

“Because I’ve been thinking of kissing you for a long time and I would like to do it now. So if you could come down here and let me kiss you, it would be very nice. That’s why,” said Yifan.

Chanyeol could say ‘Well, why don’t get up instead? The couch is a lot more comfortable that the floor.’ But arguing seemed to lose all its appeal now that Yifan had mentioned kissing. Chanyeol would rather kiss Yifan than argue with him, yes. So Chanyeol said, “Oh. Okay.” and scrambled down to the floor and let Yifan catch him.

They kissed. And it was everything like the kiss Chanyeol imagined his first kiss with Yifan would be, though for some reason Chanyeol’s imaginations had never involved a floor. He always thought Yifan was too dignified to kiss him on the floor. It turned out he was mistaken. Chanyeol was never happier to be wrong, though. And he thought he should stop thinking and just enjoy his first kiss with Yifan instead. Yes, that was a very good idea.

*

[Sunday, September 7, 2014. 5.12 PM]

Yifan had one arm around Chanyeol’s back and another on the back of his neck. Chanyeol’s hands seemed like having a mind of their own as they’d been exploring every single surface of Yifan’s clothed body they could reach. But then Yifan retreat the hand he had on Chanyeol’s back to seize one of Chanyeol’s wandering hands and then placed it on his shoulder. It went to grab Chanyeol’s other hand after that, and put it on Yifan’s other shoulder. “Don’t get me too worked up,” he said against Chanyeol’s lips. “I don’t want our first time to be on the floor of a nondescript hotel room.”

“Oh. Okay,” whispered Chanyeol, before going on to nibble on Yifan’s lower lip some more.

*

[Sunday, September 7, 2014. 5.28 PM]

They finally broke apart.  

Yifans lips were swollen and pink, and his face was flushed like he’d just finished his morning run. Chanyeol imagined he probably looked just the same, and found himself extremely happy about it.

“You’re also and idiot, you know,” he told Yifan. He still had his hands around Yifan’s neck and kept them there because he liked having Yifan close. “You could’ve just told me outright that you feel the same about me. Then we could’ve been together for a long time now.”

Yifan smirked. No, Chanyeol hated that smirked. Why did it has to make a come back now?

“Well, I could…but where’s the fun in that? Besides, we’ve always been together. You just never noticed.”

“What. You mean you’ve been with me while dating girls after girls on the side?”

Yifan shook his head. “I know you’re dense, Yeol. But I did expect you would notice I actually have not been dating any girls for months now. I stopped when I figured getting you jealous wouldn’t help me to get you to admit your feelings.”

Chanyeol gaped in incredulity. “So you were trying to get me to confess to you??” he said.

“Well, I gave up on that too,” Yifan admitted. “I figured you’re in too deep you wouldn’t even consider confessing to me as an option.”

“And what does that even mean?” asked Chanyeol, somewhat feeling offended despite not fully understanding Yifan’s words. He just knew it meant Yifan was belittling Chanyeol’s intelligence as usual.

“It means you’re an idiot.”

See?

“So you decided I should pretend to be your girlfriend in front of your parents?” Chanyeol went on.

“It was only an idea I came up with. I didn’t think you would actually go along with it,” said Yifan. “I just really wanted you to meet my parents. I thought I would just get you to come with me and introduce you as my roommate. But then you started arguing with me, which I took as a sign that you were actually considering it. Then I thought it would be quite fun to see you act as a girl.” Yifan shrugged and gave Chanyeol an actual sheepish look. “You make a really pretty girlfriend.”

“Is that what you want then, a girlfriend?”

“I thought we already agreed that what I want is you, did we not?”

“Well,” Chanyeol trailed off. “Just checking. So, you’ve had your fun, haven’t you?”

“Yes, I did,” said Yifan, using the arm he still had around Chanyeol’s lower back to push him closer. “And I like having you on my lap. We should stay like this a lot.”

“I think that can be arranged,” said Chanyeol, shifting a little to get comfortable. “Now then, should we stop all the pretense and tell your parents I’m actually not their future daughter-in-law and I can actually speak?”

Yifan’s expression turned contemplative at Chanyeol’s suggestion. After a moment, he said, “I don’t think that is a good idea. I can’t guarantee my mom won’t send you packing if we tell her. My dad…well, I don’t know what my dad would think. He’s rather unpredictable at times.”

Chanyeol frowned, feeling a bit dejected that he had to keep pretending until they left the next day.

“Let’s keep this up for a while. We can think of a way to tell them at another time. In the future. Okay?” said Yifan.

“Okay.” Chanyeol nodded. Because Yifan had said ‘we’ instead of ‘I’ and it made all the difference. He then added, “You’re still paying rent for the next two months.” before Yifan decided they should call off their agreement.

Yifan gave him a resigned smile. “I know.”

*

[Monday, September 8, 2014. 10.10 AM]

They had a tearful good bye in front of the departure terminal. Yifan’s mom cried as she hugged her son and said something long and reproachful sounding to him. Yifan hugged her back, nodding and saying ‘Yes, mama.” over and over. Yifan and his dad shared a manly hug complete with back patting.

Chanyeol rather liked Yifan’s dad, he was so calm and collected, Chanyeol couldn’t help but feel relaxed when being around him. Yifan’s mother though, Chanyeol thought he adored her. It saddened him to think that she might hate him when she found out he was not a real girl. She gave him a hug just like the one she’d given her son, and handed a small goodie bag to Chanyeol when they broke apart. Chanyeol hugged her once again to thank her.

Tao couldn’t come along since he had classes, but he’d had his own version of tearful good bye with Yifan and given Chanyeol a framed picture of the three of them together as a farewell gift, taken by Yifan’s mom at their first dinner together. Chanyeol thought it was very sweet.

They checked in after saying their good byes. This time Chanyeol smiled readily when the custom officer looked at him funny. Nothing could ruin his current good mood.

Once they arrived at the waiting room, Chanyeol went to find an empty men restroom to change. He entered a stall and promptly exchanged his long sleeved shirt and tartan knee length skirt with a pair of jeans and a loose fitting T-shirt he’d kept inside his bag before they left to the airport. After he finished changing and tied his hair up in a bun, he got out of the stall to wash his face and remove the make up. He didn’t think he would miss wearing make up, but he didn’t hate it as much as he had before. He looked at the mirror once he was done, and saw his reflection smiling broadly at him, obviously happy and completely male.

Chanyeol was about leave the restroom and go back to where Yifan was waiting when he remembered the gift from Yifan’s mom. He took out the small bag from his handbag and found a small rectangular box and a note inside. Chanyeol decided to read the note first. It was written in English. Well, he thought, Yifan’s family had lived in Canada for a while, hadn’t they?

The note said:

“I raised my son with my own hands, and I’ve hugged him countless times. I could see from the first time I hugged you you’re just like my son.

My son is a good man and has a good head on his shoulders. But he can come up with silly ideas sometimes. I hope you will continue keeping an eye on him for me, and reason with him when he is about to do more silly things in the future.

Thank you for coming to our house. Let’s meet again and get to know each other better in the future.”

Chanyeol was struck speechless for a moment. , Yifan’s mom was super awesome. When he regained his senses, he took out the small box and found a pair of silver cufflinks inside.

Chanyeol let out a gleeful laugh.

He was going to keep this a secret from Yifan. Serve him right for assuming he could fool a mother’s insight.

*

[postscript]

And so they led a happy life together, and argued a lot.

-the end-