“And do you, Park Chanyeol, take Byun Baekhyun to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
With ears pinched at the top and tinged red just like the colour of his swollen, bruising cheek, Park Chanyeol fumes from his seat as his mother slaps a cold bag of frozen peas onto his face. Several pairs of eyes spend the next few minutes watching him as he slouches against the chair and mumbles lowly to himself. Some wince while others cast glances between the sulking groom and the boy tossing back countless glasses of champagne, mindful of the way he’s scowling at everything and anything.
They all break out of their thoughts as Mrs Park shushes her son when he abruptly leans forward to spit a few words at the smaller male standing in the corner of the waiting room.
“What made you think it was a good idea to say that, Chanyeol?”
“I was only joking!”
Another bag of cold peas is slapped onto the tall man’s face.
Now Park Chanyeol, heir to Parks’ Music Industry – soon to become a joint company, and the richest in Seoul – would be seen smiling half the time he spent at his father’s company headquarters. Albeit it being cocky and ridiculously attractive, it would make women and men alike swoon. If not, then a double take was the very least they would do.
Eyes shaped so beautifully, like almonds or teardrops, and a face so perfectly structured, his slightly large ears only added onto his boyish charm. And standing at a towering height, shoulders broad and legs somewhat endless, he is your ideal guy. Or as least that’s what ZYX magazine had said about Seoul’s most wanted bachelor. Supposedly. In Ariel, font size eleven, at the centre of the glossy front cover.
Not that it mattered to Byun Baekhyun, who had aggressively drawn over the taller man’s face once he found a copy strewn across his desktop as if his secretary wasn’t watching him warily.
“Baekhyun-” He started. The man gripped onto his clipboard when the brooding heir of Byun’s Productions threw him a tired glare. It was brief, and then he was back to shaking his pen to loosen up the ink, maybe a little too furiously, “Mr Byun… I thought you, um, hated Mr Park. Why is it bothering you that he’s been titled as Seoul’s number one-”
Hands slam down onto the oak desk, shaking a few papers and pens, and startling the weary looking secretary because Baekhyun’s voice was too loud for nine in the morning, “Because he gets to prance around like a free man, Jongin! While I have to sit here constantly being reminded that I have a fiancé to think about! I already see enough of that dumb idiot at home, you know, because mother thought it would be a great idea to put a framed picture up of him in my room. My room, Jongin! In the very apartment I live in by myself! Oh, I am more than bothered.”
“Don’t you think Chanyeol looks much more handsome with a black eye?”
“Mrs Park, I think that’s enough.” Kyungsoo cuts in, his fingers fixing Jongin’s bowtie but stopping when he notices Chanyeol’s pleading look.
She suddenly breaks out of her trail of thoughts, frown slipping off her face, before she’s gesturing towards a sulky Baekhyun to come take over. Mrs Park gently pats the younger man on the shoulder, sighing quietly in resignation but she still smiles at him softly. He seems reluctant, yet one glare from Mrs Byun has Baekhyun scurrying over to his pitiful looking fiancé. Chanyeol wants to groan and he starts to shuffle away in his seat, but Kyungsoo peeps over with a glare and it’s enough for him to stay still.
Everyone tuts as Baekhyun shoves the bag of peas up against Chanyeol’s cheek none to gently, only shaking their heads as the younger heir smiles down fruitfully at the taller man’s pain. He chortles quietly, too, when Chanyeol whines low under his breath. Some are amused while some aren’t the least bit pleased, until Mr Byun sighs.
“Well, it seems that we can’t get you two married off just yet. We wouldn’t want a funeral right after such a joyous occasion, so it leaves us no choice but to have you two stay under one roof for the time being.”
Chanyeol gasps, scrambling up from his seat but only to be pushed back down by Baekhyun, who speaks through gritted teeth, “it was not planned that I live with him before marriage, father-”
“You sound like a pompous asshole, Baek.”
“It’s Baekhyun for you, you overgrown tree!”
Jongin steps around Kyungsoo in time to grab the young heir by the waist, struggling to fight against Baekhyun’s flailing limbs, who continues to yell profanities at Chanyeol as if their parents aren’t watching. Chanyeol is red in the face, too. But he’s laughing too loudly, his hands against his knees and his shoulders trembling from his fit of laughter. The Park heir soon falls to the floor, large hands hitting the carpet below him and mouth wide open, because Baekhyun has ended up accidentally elbowing Jongin in the eye. It all results in the secretary quickly letting him go and Kyungsoo rushing over to tend to him as Baekhyun apologises over and over again.
Jongin waves his arm around, reassuring his boss that he’s perfectly fine, although his eye looks bloodshot and Kyungsoo looks two seconds away from murdering Baekhyun for hurting his boyfriend. The younger man sends them both a smile, opting to step back and wring his hands together. He then stands there quietly, ready for his parents to send a scolding his way but Chanyeol’s laughs have yet to die down and Baekhyun is sure that his left eye is twitching uncontrollably.
“If you don’t stop laughing right now-”
“You should have seen your face, Byun.”
“-I swear, I will drop kick you into the seventh hell.”
Mr Park comes jostling in before Baekhyun could go ahead with his threat, standing between his eldest son and his future son-in-law as he dabs at the sweat shining on his forehead with a handkerchief. His face grows redder by the second, either fuming or completely confused. Neither of them are sure which one, but it has everyone else in the venue’s waiting room looking up at the elder man quizzically.
“A week,” he starts, nodding at Mr Byun before glancing towards the two grooms, “you will stay together for a week. If you don’t fall in love with each other in a week, or at the very least get along so this marriage will be able to run smoothly, we will cut off this wedding entirely and you two can go your own separate ways.”
Chanyeol and Baekhyun begin to talk but a finger is held up to halt their words.
“But that means neither of you will inherit the joint business.”
“Not buts. It’s either you two try to get along or give up everything you were entitled to since birth. This marriage is the only way to secure the relationship between the Parks and the Byuns, and to assure other worldwide businesses that we are their strongest competitors. So, as of tomorrow and till next Monday, Baekhyun will be living with Chanyeol for a week.”
“Then, and only then, will we decide if this marriage is fine to go ahead with.”
That was the done deal.
“Stupid Park Chanyeol.”
Baekhyun steps out of the elevator to the pent house suites on the top floor, searching for apartment six-one-four as he juggles a box of his belongings in his arms. He has his scruffy looking converses on, having placed all his leather shoes and boots into the moving truck that should arrive sometime later. His loose jumper falls off one shoulder, showing skin so smooth and unblemished, and his jeans has too many rips in them. He looks completely out of place in the spacious hallways of the apartment building.
Chanyeol’s going to go wild.
Lost in his own sly smile, followed by muffled chuckles as he presses his mouth into the top edge of the box, Baekhyun almost misses the tall guy staring at him amused from a little further along the hallway.
“So… you have a box full of… stuffed animals.”
Baekhyun jumps a little, but he’s straightening up just as quickly and tilting his head up at the boy, “that’s none of your business, Sehun.”
The sun has barely set, basking the hallways at the penthouse on fourth avenue in oranges and reds, and most certainly a scowling Baekhyun, who stands impatiently outside of apartment six-one-four. Lights that are overly done with cut crystals and navy blue carpet made out of velvet, Baekhyun hums somewhat appreciatively before he toes at the bottom of the corner with his shoes. Seconds tick by and he becomes restless, throwing Sehun tight lipped smiles while the man stands before his own apartment three doors down.
Sehun finally speaks up, tone laced with blatant amusement, when Baekhyun moves forward to thump his forehead against the mahogany door, “Chanyeol’s never going to let you in with that… unpleasant looking lamp.”
“Don’t worry. I’m going to shove this up your brother’s ass before I even step in.”
The younger Park blanches while Baekhyun grins at him, looking a little manic when one of his droopy eyes starts to twitch and he looks seconds away from breaking down his older brother’s door.
“Could you keep the kinks between you, my brother and the bedroom please? Or wherever you… like to do it.”
Just as Baekhyun threateningly steps towards the younger boy, his lips pinched and a hand reaching inside his box for one of his stuffed toys, the door to his fiancé’s apartment suddenly opens to reveal a dishevelled Chanyeol. The older man doesn’t greet Baekhyun, only peeping forwards and looking all sorts of alert before he’s absentmindedly waving at his brother and tugging Baekhyun into his hallway.
The walls are white. The furniture is white. Everything is white, from the marbled floor in the hallway to the ceiling, save for the burning pink blush on Chanyeol’s cheeks.
The taller stays silent, raking his eyes up and down Baekhyun like it’s the most casual thing to do. He momentarily rests his gaze on the box full of personal items and stuffed toys, mouth parted open as if to say there is no way he’s going to let Baekhyun bring all those into his apartment, but Chanyeol finds himself pinching the bridge of his nose out of exhaustion instead.
He only glares when Baekhyun clears his throat, exasperated.
“You see, I would have sent my chauffeur with my personal belongings,” Baekhyun pauses as if this is the right time to be turning his nose up at Chanyeol’s choice of leather sofas. He looks up at the man with a glare of his own, looking like a pissed off child with his dark hair covering his eyes instead of the usual parted hair he has for working days, but his voice is just the same, “but you would have burned them before I even got here.”
“You’re not wrong-”
Chanyeol’s words are cut off as Baekhyun suddenly pushes his box towards him and strides off to the floor to ceiling windows. He nods appreciatively at the sight of Seoul’s skyscrapers beneath them, blinking lights in bright hues of oranges and blues. The moon is dusky but full, shining above the sky along with a few little stars. It’s beautiful. Except Chanyeol falling over his own words behind him.
Baekhyun’s only been here once before, having been dragged out of his own apartment by his parents, even though he is a fully-grown man capable of making decisions for himself. That, however, didn’t stop Mrs Byun from waking him up one lazy afternoon by pulling the curtains apart and attempting to push his duvet wrapped body off the bed. He had reluctantly slipped on a pair of jeans and a shirt, and grumbled the whole way to Chanyeol’s new apartment.
“Chanyeol just moved to his new home! Exciting, isn’t it?” Mrs Byun had cheered. She had reached over to pinch one of Baekhyun’s cheeks as he started dozing off in the backseat of their family car, “so as his fiancé, you must make sure he’s settled in well and all.”
That was a year ago.
Plus, Baekhyun’s too stubborn to praise anything belonging to Chanyeol.
“I don’t see why I had to be the one to move out. I mean, Park, take offence because your apartment looks like… somewhere Jongdae would live.”
A gasp follows immediately as Chanyeol abruptly stops fluffing the pillows for the umpteenth time and scrambles towards the younger man with a pointed finger, “take that back right now!”
Baekhyun only hums again, bouncing across the sofa and taking the pillows with him. If that wasn’t enough to annoy Chanyeol, he places his hands behind his head and swings his feet on top of the coffee table, converses tapping together obnoxiously. Chanyeol makes a guttural voice from his throat, a mix between a grunt and wail, and he threads his fingers through his unkempt hair, ready to pull the strands out right then and there. Baekhyun only smiles up at him brightly. And then he’s rubbing circles into the seat beside him, eyes heavy lidded and mouth a little open until Chanyeol’s picking at the collar of his own shirt with a blush.
“Won’t you accompany me, Park? Keep me warm this winter?”
The noise Chanyeol makes before he’s storming out of the living room has Baekhyun cackling into the one of the cotton pillows.
“Don’t take too long Channie.”
“Shut up, Byun!”
The first night.
The most dreaded night.
“Do you have to sleep in just your boxer briefs?
“Are you going to deprive me of my sleeping preferences now?”
The blush that blooms across Chanyeol’s flustered face has Baekhyun laughing loudly as he jumps into the bed, covered with cotton and silk sheets and smelling almost too much like Chanyeol. The older man’s pointed ears turn a brighter red than they usually do when Baekhyun’s around, and his steps are unsure while he looks conflicted between fleeing from his room or slipping into his pyjamas himself.
Chanyeol doesn’t know Baekhyun has his own set of pyjamas – several in his suitcase to be more exact. But he doesn’t need to know that.
And Baekhyun will never admit to it, but he’s relishing in the way Chanyeol looks all sorts of shy under his gaze, droopy eyes crescent shaped as he laughs with mirth. So, for the fun of it, he decides to turn around, bury his nose into the soft pillow and wiggle his hips a little to get comfortable for a good night’s sleep.
There’s a choking sound coming from the taller after that.
“I will pour cold water all over you if you don’t quit it.”
When Baekhyun decides to peek up from the pillow, eyes already blurred with sleep and lips jutted out into a pout, his hips noticeably rising just the tiniest bit, Chanyeol loses all sense of thoughts. The younger’s voice is soft when he speaks, “but… I’m not doing anything.”
Baekhyun’s loud guffaw filled the apartment as his fiancé runs out the bedroom with his pyjamas bundled up in his arms.
That’s how Chanyeol finds himself whispering loudly into his phone an hour later after locking himself in the bathroom. Just until Baekhyun has fallen asleep and the coast is clear.
“What am I supposed to with this brat, Kyungsoo?”
“First of all, that brat is my brother—wait, no, he’s still a brat.”
“But you’re my best friend!”
Chanyeol hears Kyungsoo’s sigh loud and clear through his phone as he leans against the counter in his bathroom. It’s been an hour since he fled from his room, and going by his calculations, Baekhyun should be asleep by now. However, Chanyeol isn’t ready to slip into bed with a boy who might as well be naked – because the boxer briefs left nothing to the imagination – and likes to wrap his limbs around the nearest object in his sleep. So, out of panic, he had dialled up his best friend at ten minutes past two in the morning. There is no way he can go to Sehun without his younger brother spilling everything to everyone the next morning.
“You know your call just woke up Jongin.”
“Like Baekhyun doesn’t already work the poor boy to his limits anyway.”
“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo breathes irritably, sounding groggier as the seconds go by. He sighs again in the end because he’s had these sorts of calls from the older man since highschool, “you’re in love with that brat. Maybe if you had confessed to him years ago, and actually be nice to him instead of hiding away your feelings, you guys would have no problem getting married. Hell, you guys would probably be on your fifth baby by now, although I’m not sure if that’s entirely possible.”
It’s silent for a few seconds until Chanyeol gasps like that’s the most absurd thing he has ever heard.
“Me confess? To him? And have Baekhyun mock me for the rest of my life for being hopelessly in love? You know, I thought twins had this weird telepathic bond where you know each other inside and out, but clearly that doesn’t seem to be the case-”
“I am not confessing to Baekhyun.”
“You have to someday.”
Kyungsoo’s voice simmers when he hears Chanyeol’s stumbling intake of breath, knowing that this helpless feeling has been eating at his best friend’s heart for years. The taller listens to the static for a while, wonders how long he’s been on the phone for. He wonders if Baekhyun has gone to sleep so he can slip in bed right beside him. He wonders how he’s ever going to tell a man that he’s been in love with him since they were kids. Ever since the Parks had first met the Byuns, and a four year old Baekhyun had peeped around from behind his father’s legs to greet Chanyeol. The taller was only seven – he wasn’t in love; he didn’t know what it was. Maybe he still doesn’t, but he knew back then that he just had to be Baekhyun’s best friend.
That is until the younger boy had punched him in the hip for intimidating him with his tall height.
“Giant gonna eat Baekkie! Must defeat before giant get to Mongryong!”
“Someday…” Chanyeol says tiredly, “just not… today.”
It’s when the moon is still shining brightly outside but the dark blue hues of the sky are turning into oranges and purples, that Chanyeol finally decides to step out of the bathroom and back into his bedroom. It all seems a little cliché then, when the moonlight hits the lines of Baekhyun’s face just right, highlighting his slightly upturned nose, his high cheekbones but soft cheeks and his lips that seem too pink to be real. Chanyeol doesn’t realise his eyes softening at the sight.
He slips into bed and is only startled for a while when Baekhyun suddenly snuggles closer into his pillow, with his legs splayed out till he’s taking up the entire left side and also a little of Chanyeol’s space. Baekhyun doesn’t move back but Chanyeol doesn’t mind. Instead his almond shaped eyes slowly move from the small smile on the younger’s face then to the little mole resting on the corner of his mouth, and he begins to fall asleep like that.
This isn’t too bad, Chanyeol thinks.
“Well, this isn’t what I was expecting.”
The voice is fuzzy to Chanyeol’s ears and it makes Baekhyun’s nose scrunch up a little in distaste because it’s too early in the morning for anyone to be talking. But a snicker follows right after. Chanyeol finally opens his eyes at that, albeit having to blink against the dimness of his room with the blue curtains yet to be pulled. He also wheezes when he notices the heavy feeling sinking into his chest.
“I mean, I understand that it’s your first night but do you move fast or… what.”
Just as Chanyeol speaks, his voice laced with sleep and gruff, a timbre or two lower than his usual tone, the body on top of his finally stirs awake.
Everything happens in a blur.
Chanyeol eyes the semi naked Baekhyun on top of his body before he finally realises how the Byun heir has his shorter limbs wrapped around him, legs secure around his waist and fingers awkwardly threaded through the taller’s dark hair. It is also then when Baekhyun feels the tightening grip of a huge hand. Right there. On his left ass cheek, where nimble but rough fingertips seem to be running across the crease of his boxer briefs, down in the middle of his bottom. Warm, thick fingers give an involuntary squeeze because Chanyeol has yet to fully wake up, eyes blurry and mind still dazed, and who knew the other’s bottom would be this… squishy.
Someone starts screaming.
Sehun leans against the door frame as he watches silently, shaking his head while his older brother tries rolling off the bed along with his fiancé.
“Get off me!”
“Let go off my ass cheek first, you giant oaf!”
Chanyeol finally pushes Baekhyun onto the floor where he falls with a groan before he’s picking himself up on his elbows to glare at the taller through his messy hair.
“Um, in case you haven’t realised but you are both needed at the office at ten, and it’s already… twenty minutes to ten.”
The company heirs scramble up and out of the room and into the bathroom just as Baekhyun shoves Chanyeol into the nearest wall to occupy it first. Sehun only steps over his suffering older brother, who flails his too long limbs around as if he’s throwing a tantrum because Byun is definitely going to take forever and a day in there just to spite him. He stops when he hears the shower running and just stares into nothingness.
“And Seoul thinks you’re their number one hottest bachelor?”
Chanyeol just scowls up at Sehun.
“You love me.”
Baekhyun says out of the blue as the two make their way through the building’s lobby, greeting their employees here and there while bowing as they make their way up to their offices on the top floor.
Dressed in a clean cut black suit, matched with a black tie and shirt underneath, the never-ending blush on Chanyeol’s face seems bright against the chandelier lights. Not that Baekhyun notices. Or maybe he does because he’s biting at the corner of his mouth to stop his lips from stretching up into a smile at Chanyeol’s state. The younger is wearing a suit himself but in navy blue that goes well with his brown hair, so soft looking that Chanyeol just wants to run his fingers through it or maybe even bury his nose into—
Now isn’t the time, Chanyeol, the taller man scolds himself.
“N-No I don’t. What could p-possibly make you say that?” The older stutters out, shuffling into an empty elevator as Baekhyun stands against the corner, looking out through the glass walls to see all the floors of their newly joint company – The Parks, Byuns & Sons.
Baekhyun looks up him quizzically after a floor or two, a little frown marring his face which Chanyeol mistakes as irritation. The younger crosses his arms against his chest after a while, as if to make some room for himself.
“From now on, you love me and I love you. Well at least we’ll pretend to. I am not losing the inheritance to this company when I’ve spent years giving this my all. And so, we’ll try to get along and then we’ll get married, and maybe after a few years we’ll get divorced. Make it more believable, huh, Park.”
“Right,” Chanyeol distracts himself by straightening his tie, ignoring the slump of his shoulders, “I knew that.”
He misses the little smirk playing at Baekhyun’s lips before the younger man looks up at him through hooded eyes with his bottom lip caught between his two front teeth, interrogating the Park’s heir for all he’s worth. Chanyeol already knows where this is going when Baekhyun’s voice turns soft.
“Do you really love me, is that it? Because why else would my sweetheart be blushing so bright.”
“In your dreams, Byun.”
“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know.”
Baekhyun doesn’t see it coming when Chanyeol decides to impose on him and flicks the smaller across the forehead. It was meant to be soft, harmless, just a little reminder that Baekhyun’s jokes aren’t as funny as he believes them to be. But Chanyeol’s a tall man, who sometimes underestimates his strength – even if it’s through his thumb and middle finger.
It stings and there’s a yelp, and Baekhyun’s hands fly up to his forehead to soothe the pain. His eyes narrow under his arms as he tries to shuffle away from Chanyeol in the elevator. Yet the taller sees the tears pricking at those droopy eyes, internally panicking at the sight because he’s really hurt Baekhyun. To outsiders, it would have been entertaining, watching as the younger of the two glues his palm to his forehead while the other scurries after him in the small space of the elevator.
“Byun, Byun, let me see-”
“If there’s a mark, I’m suing you, Park. I swear to-”
Baekhyun turns around only to bump nose first into a firm chest. He doesn’t get to whine or to throw a few words at Chanyeol because the man is suddenly cupping his face between his hands. Baekhyun doesn’t like the concerned look on his face. He doesn’t like how the pair of almond eyes staring at him are filled with an apology that pinches at a spot in his chest or maybe several spots – he just doesn’t like it. With his own hands, he grabs onto Chanyeol’s wrists, trying to tug them down but the older man has his face secured in a firm grip.
“Let me go!”
Chanyeol shakes his head, inching closer towards a frantic looking Baekhyun, but he keeps his voice low as he speaks, “no, I need to check for any bruises.”
“Well there isn’t any!” Baekhyun almost yells, stuttering a little as he hopes that Chanyeol can’t feel the burn of his blush under his calloused palms, “really, Park, let go-”
The elevator doors decide to open then.
And standing right there is Mr Byun and Mr Park, carrying cups of coffees and a file in each hand as they laugh. The laughter stops once they see Chanyeol’s face mere inches away from Baekhyun’s.
“Are we interrupting something-”
“Oh, Chanyeol!” Baekhyun suddenly cheers. His hands let go off the man’s wrists to let his own fingers fidget with the other’s perfectly smoothed collar, unbuttoning and buttoning the first button of his black shirt. It doesn’t go unnoticed by the two CEOS, but he speaks like he’s elated anyway, “look at you. Your collar is pressed all wrong. I mean, what would you do without me, sweetheart?”
Chanyeol warily glances between Baekhyun and his own father, lips trembling up into a forced smile as he slowly brings his hands down from the younger’s face. He taps Baekhyun’s left cheek twice, knowing that any other day it would have earned him a punch to the gut, but Baekhyun just stands there. His eye begins to twitch but he only presses his palms against Chanyeol’s firm chest, basking in the feeling a little too long for his own liking.
Baekhyun takes two steps back and clears his throat, straightening up, and his voice loses any hints of teasing or stutters, “father, Mr Park, I was just showing Chanyeol here a file I need help with. I feel like he would have a better understanding of it so I will need him for an hour or so. Please excuse us.”
Baekhyun grabs Chanyeol by the hand and tugs him out of the elevator, leaving behind the two bemused CEOs as he walks in a haste towards his office. His employees look at the engaged couple with knowing glances, only to duck down into their cubicles when Chanyeol waves back at them.
Once the door to his office closes, Baekhyun turns back to rest against it, heaving like he just ran a marathon. But then he’s laughing, and Chanyeol’s eyes are softening but they’re also confused because why is Baekhyun smiling up at him like that. His eyes are shimmering and they’re the shape of the moons, still droopy but that’s what Chanyeol loves about them the most. And his mouth, that mouth, often sinful looking around pens or bottles or when he’s simply smiling, but now pulled up into a rectangular shape. Chanyeol has never loved a smile so much.
“Did you see that, Park?” Baekhyun asks, stifling his laughs into the palm of his hands, missing the way Chanyeol’s smile follows him, “they totally brought it. They think we’re in love.”
The smile disappears.
“Yeah,” Chanyeol says, voice quiet, “yeah, so did I.”
“No, no, wait,” Baekhyun is suddenly frowning, hands stilling on top of a file that sits on his desk, but he’s not looking at Chanyeol, unaware of the man panicking behind him, “did you just say something?”
“I said you’re stupid.”
That earns Chanyeol a box of tissues to the face.
“Are you seriously crying?”
It’s tomorrow and a few hours after the pair returned home, but not after quarrelling in the car park of the building about who gets to drive. Baekhyun won in the end and Chanyeol had hung on to his seatbelt for dear life.
“It’s my car and I drove here!”
“Okay, Park, but we’re practically married now. What yours is mine, so share your damn car and let me drive!”
“That’s not what you said when I accidentally drank your orange juice this morning.”
Chanyeol walks out of his room after an hour’s nap, rubbing his tired eyes with balled-up fists as he strolls through the hallway and into the living room where there’s a bundle of blankets sat in the corner of his white leather sofa. And under the bundle is a sobbing Baekhyun with a nose as red as Rudolph’s and hair sticking out in all directions. It’s only after a full minute of staring and trying to fathom the situation does Chanyeol finally realise Sehun lying down on the floor. The younger boy is discreetly wiping away the tear that’s running down his cheek as he hugs one of the couch pillows to his chest.
“H-He's dead, Chanyeol!”
The oldest out of the three ignores that because Baekhyun has returned his attention back to the T.V and is currently breaking out into another round of tears, everything but his face covered by the spare blanket he must have dragged out of the closet.
Chanyeol turns to Sehun, “what are you doing here?”
His younger brother’s voice is quiet and slightly broken, a little wobbly as he refuses to meet his eyes, “Junmyeon has gone to visit his parents today.”
“Sehun, you’re not going to die without him for a day.”
“That’s what they want you to believe! But love does things to you, man.”
Baekhyun decides to unnecessarily cut in like he wasn’t just crying up a storm, “yeah, man.”
It’s only after the credits roll and Baekhyun has wasted a whole box of tissues, face blotchy with tears and eyes still glimmering and lined red, when Chanyeol calls out for the two to come eat dinner. Sehun steps in first, hurrying in with sock clad feet to choose the best looking plate whereas Baekhyun saunters behind him. He’s still sniffling into the sleeve of his hoody, which Chanyeol has yet to realise is his.
But before the younger could step into the lavish kitchen, topped with a kitchen island right in the middle and the counter top made out of black marble as opposed to the white that paints everything else, Chanyeol is tugging at his arms and bringing him to a halt.
“Hey, hey, look,” he starts softly when Baekhyun looks up at him with unshed tears, bottom lip wobbling slightly. The sight shouldn’t have had Chanyeol’s heart skipping a beat, “it’s just a movie. He didn’t really die.”
Baekhyun doesn’t mind this time when Chanyeol reaches up to cup his cheeks again, the rough pads of this thumbs wiping away at any tears that fall. Baekhyun smiles when Chanyeol does, patting the hands holding his face as if to say he’s okay before he’s attempting to pinch Chanyeol’s chin. He stares a little too long, and he stares back, and Sehun just makes noises into his plate of high class food.
“If you lovebirds can save that for the bedroom, I’d be so thankful.”
Baekhyun’s laugh tinkles a little too sweetly and Chanyeol wonders if this is what love really is.
“Do you have more rice?” Sehun asks after a while, once all three are sat around the table and on their way to finishing with their main course.
Chanyeol checks the rice pot for any leftover but he frowns when he sees that it’s already empty – he had only made three servings, thinking that it would be enough. But Sehun looks eagerly between the pot and his brother, attempting to look inside, too, but Chanyeol closes the lid before he could peek inside.
“Here, have mine. I’m full from lunch anyway.” Chanyeol offers, and even though Sehun is protesting, he’s already filling up his brother’s place with more rice.
The boy still smiles bashfully, laughing around a spoonful of rice, and the older laughs too like it’s the funniest thing the two have ever encountered.
Neither notice Baekhyun’s soft smile towards Chanyeol.
It’s two days later where Jongin finds himself staring blankly at his boss, hands stilling as he goes to pull out his memo pad to run a few errands.
“Um, Sir, did you just… can you repeat that?”
Baekhyun looks up from his laptop. He looks busy for a Wednesday afternoon, white sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his suit jacket discarded over his leather chair, thin rimmed glasses on so he can read through the blur of his eyes. He smiles at the question, teeth on show, and Jongin almost calls up Kyungsoo to deliver the news.
“Make sure you order an extra portion of rice for Chanyeol. Oh, and lots and lots of squid, okay? He loves squid.”
Jongin blinks down at him, walking back and forth into the room before he’s pursing his lips and pointing his pen at nothing in particular. Baekhyun look up again after a few minutes have passed, looking speculative as his secretary lingers by the doorway, but Jongin is already shaking his head and leaving the office with a wide smile on his face.
And all the employees wonder what has Kim Jongin so happy that he’s skipping down the hallway, past their cubicles and into the elevator, hugging his memo pad to his chest like he’s just discovered something magical. The elevators soon close but they all hear the muffled noises of Jongin screaming all the way down to the ground floor.
“He asked for an extra portion of rice for Chanyeol!”
Days go by and neither Baekhyun or Chanyeol remember that they have a week to pretend that they’re in love so their parents will believe them. Instead, they’re too busy walking up to each other in the mornings, often climbing over one another to get to the bathroom first. In a surprise turn of events, Baekhyun would stop and offer Chanyeol to go first while he has his eyes fixed on the carpet, his toes toeing at the navy coloured floor.
On their way to work, Baekhyun would try to pick a fight, twisting and turning the buttons in Chanyeol’s car before he’s opening up the passenger side window and sticking his head out. He would sing to whatever is on the radio, asking the older to join in before calling him an old man. Chanyeol would pull him back in by the hem of his suit jacket, just in case any news tabloids are out there to make over-exaggerated articles of the young Byun heir.
‘Byun Baekhyun seen rebelling and disrupting traffic as he attempts to jump out of a car that belongs to none other than Park Chanyeol.’
The smaller only pulls at his fiancé’s cheek, momentarily distracting him from driving before he’s changing the radio again with a grin on his face.
That smile is nowhere to be seen after a few hours when Baekhyun is found mumbling under his breath in the boardroom as soon as Kyungsoo steps in looking for their father. Jongin isn’t far behind but he’s juggling with unopened files and coffee. Kyungsoo doesn’t ask right away, opting to arch up an eyebrow in questioning at his brother and taking a sit at the front of the empty boardroom. Baekhyun just seethes quietly besides the window, turning around every so often to run his fingers through his hair.
“He kicked me out of his office.”
“He has a client, Baekhyun.”
Baekhyun only stares at Kyungsoo as if he’s said the most appalling thing to mankind, “you didn’t see the client, Soo! I mean neither have I… but she’s probably looking at him like he’s a five star meal right now! I’m telling you, she’s going to pounce on him right under my nose.”
The younger heir misses the ecstatic look on Jongin’s face but Kyungsoo voices out his thoughts before he could.
“You’re jealous of a client. Really, Baek?”
“Who said I’m jealous?” there’s snickers coming from the work staff when Baekhyun steps out to glare at each and every single one of them, but with his dishevelled appearance, even his father wouldn’t take him seriously. It all soon turns into a hush just as Baekhyun stomps back in and waves his arms at nothing in particular, voice taking on a high pitch tone, “I am not jealous. Park is a goof. He’s not a ladies’ man, or a man’s man, or anyone’s man for that fact. He’s probably dying in there.”
“I don’t want to become a widow before I even get married.”
It isn’t even three minutes later and Chanyeol is met with a furious looking Baekhyun bursting into his own office that stands on the other side of the top level. Instead of being displeased, he fights back a smile when he sees Kyungsoo bumping into Baekhyun and Jongin jumping in the background out of sheer joy. Chanyeol will never know why.
Baekhyun meets his faze, just as hot and heavy, but it falters when he glances towards Chanyeol’s client sitting behind his desk. The taller man is wheezing by the time Baekhyun’s mouth falls open in shock, nearly falling off his chair as he loses control of his laughter.
Old lady Park shines a smile at Baekhyun, beckoning him to hurry up and come sit down next to her. He does, taking her hands in between his as she fondly strokes his face and begins to talk about her trip to the city. Baekhyun spares one last glare towards Chanyeol because the older man hasn’t stopped laughing like he knows exactly why Baekhyun stormed into his office – and he does.
“Look at my Baekhyunee, all grown up and handsome.” Grandma Park’s voice is hoarse but it’s gentle, too, and Baekhyun remembers the times she would sing to them. It would always stop when little Baekhyun would attempt to punch Chanyeol in the eye for not letting him sit in her lap.
“She’s my grandma! Get your own grandma!”
“Nuh uh, Chanyeol, grandma park is my grandma, too!”
“But you’re not even related!”
“Then I just marry you and then she my grandma as well!”
Kyungsoo comes inside to greet her as does Jongin, having met numerous times before through family gatherings and parties. She hugs them tight but goes back to holding Baekhyun’s hands, rubbing her fingers over his knuckles as he listens to how she met a new man at her bingo club. He’s smiling so softly, so attentive, and Chanyeol has to look away.
“Has my grandson been treating you well? Not too eager for sex, is he?”
“Grandma!” Chanyeol exclaims the same time Baekhyun does, the both of them tripping over their words, “you- you can’t be asking things like that.”
“Ah, I see, you want to keep it all in the bedroom.”
Soon enough, it’s two days before Sunday.
The rain is warm, falling against the ground of the city harshly as people run into buses or stay under the shelter of the stores. Baekhyun stands under the parking lot of the building, watching with squinted eyes as the rain continues to fall since morning, bleak and heavy in the winter. Droplets fall on his leather shoes and his suit isn’t thick enough to stop the tremble from running through his bones, but he stands there watching as the sky turns purple and the lights start to flicker on. It all feels somewhat serene, solemn, too, and Baekhyun basks in the quietness of it all.
“Byun, you’re not in a drama.”
The low timbre of Chanyeol’s voice is enough to break Baekhyun out of his reverie. The older man sidles up beside him and flashes him a smile that shines too brightly against the dim evening sky. Baekhyun isn’t sure why his chest starts to hurt. But he thinks a frown is enough to hide it.
“I waited an hour for you.”
Baekhyun’s confession has Chanyeol balking, halting mid stop as he opens up an umbrella to step out into the rain. The younger doesn’t follow, not for a while, and he’s just standing there looking up at Chanyeol, watching as the rain falls behind him and the night lights make his almond eyes shimmer too nicely. Baekhyun can’t stop his chest from hurting.
“You did?” He asks, cautiously, waiting for Baekhyun to step under the umbrella with him.
Chanyeol doesn’t realise he looks hopeful, doesn’t seem to notice the endearing smile blooming on his face. Because his eyes are crinkling at the sides, and his mouth is a little upturned, but he can’t see that. His hands tremble a little as he holds the umbrella high above them, or maybe it’s from the cold, he isn’t sure. He doesn’t notice that he can be read like an open book. But maybe Baekhyun does.
“Of course not,” the smaller suddenly laughs, skipping over towards Chanyeol and tugging as his wrist so they can walk home together, “I only waited for two minutes. Any longer and I would have ditched you.”
Baekhyun doesn’t notice how the smile disappears for the night as he walks arm in arm with Chanyeol.
The apartment is quiet when they arrive, the city asleep under the heady feeling of the night rain, besides Baekhyun who sends a sheepish smile towards Chanyeol once he notices the other man’s blank stare. He doesn’t get a smile in return. Yet he’s still beaming, shrugging out of his suit jacket and walking with a bounce in his step towards the kitchen. And maybe if Chanyeol looked up, he would see the younger waiting patiently for him.
“Chanyeol, do you want to-”
“Hey, Baekhyun…” Chanyeol starts, fingers toying with his tie before he’s loosening it up, and he’s already making his way to their bedroom, “I’m going to turn in for the night. It was a busy day at work so… so just help yourself to anything. Or would you like me to cook something for you before I go to sleep…”
“No, no, that’s fine! I’ll just- I’m in the mood for cereal so I’ll just, yeah.”
Chanyeol leaves a disheartened Baekhyun in the hallway. Both their shoulders slouching, and eyes feeling tired as if they haven’t slept for days, but heart’s beating like they’re restless.
Baekhyun sighs under his breath, pulling out a bowl from one of the cabinets but he stands there, doing nothing, watching nothing in particular, and suddenly he’s not so hungry anymore. Chanyeol doesn’t sleep either, staring up at the ceiling and wondering what Baekhyun was going to say, but neither of them will admit to that.
‘Chanyeol, do you want to bake cupcakes together. You know, for old times’ sake.’
Baekhyun does end up slipping into bed, a little after quarter past two in the morning, but he finds Chanyeol’s asleep and he lets out an intake of breath he didn’t know he had been holding. The taller is curled up into a ball, snoring away softly with his mouth wide open as Baekhyun laughs a little at the sight.
Chanyeol’s isn’t awake to see the fond look on his face, or the way Baekhyun quietly climbs into bed and places his face right next to Chanyeol’s, letting his droopy eyes roam over the visible crinkles of his fiancé’s eyes. He stops at plump lips, a little chapped because he knows Chanyeol chews on them out of nervousness, so Baekhyun traces his fingers over them, the tip of his thumb touching the corner of his mouth. His fingers soon graze the pointed tips of Chanyeol’s ears, something he did when he was younger, at times when he would go too far and make the taller cry, resulting in Baekhyun trying to comfort him by stroking the ears he’s always made fun of. But they’re his favourite, too. The older wiggles a little in his sleep, frowning, and Baekhyun pulls his hand back, although he still stays close beside him.
He begins to speak, voice soft and too quiet at some parts, “Hey, Park. Do you think you have the answers as to why my heart’s hurting? Is it because I eat too much chocolate, is that why? But that wouldn’t add up, you know. It- it… just doesn’t—you’re no help at all, do you know that. Because this only happens--”
Baekhyun’s eyes widen as his voice breaks.
This only happens when I’m with you.
“Have I got something on my face?” Chanyeol asks around a mouthful of toast.
Baekhyun scrunches up his nose in disgust, settling his tea down onto the counter before he’s lacing his fingers together and nodding across at Chanyeol with a serious gaze. Chanyeol’s hands fly up to his face, patting around with the tips of his fingers for any sort of sticker or ink on his face. He comes up empty handed and blanches at Baekhyun.
“You have a whole lot of ugly on your face, Park.”
Chanyeol attempts to reach over but the kitchen is counter is too long and Baekhyun is already standing up to put his cup in the sink. It’s silent for a while and the two of them bask in it, comfortable as Chanyeol hums and Baekhyun joins in, washing the dishes while the other plays with the crumbs on his plate. He notices how uneasily quiet Baekhyun has been this morning.
“Is something bothering you?”
Baekhyun jumps in place, startled because Chanyeol had stood up from his stool and made his way to the kitchen sink without as so much as a blink. The older man stays still, expectant but also emotionless, as if the clogs are turning in his head as to why Baekhyun isn’t himself. This infuriates the younger because Chanyeol is meant to know. Because it was Chanyeol who suddenly shut down on him yesterday. Baekhyun rinses his hands all the while scowling up at the taller man. And then he does something the neither of them expect.
He slaps Chanyeol’s chest with his wet hands and proceeds to dry them into the cotton shirt.
“Byun Baekhyun, what the fuc-“
“Oops, I slipped?”
But just as he moves to swerve around his fiancé and run away, Chanyeol firmly holds Baekhyun’s wet hands to his chest, his much larger hands splayed over slender fingers that wriggle under his grip. Baekhyun has no place to go but into the cabinet when Chanyeol suddenly leans over, his face barely inches away from the smaller’s and his breath warm on Baekhyun’s lips.
Chanyeol has slipped into his suit of the day, immaculate and pristine, dark hair styled back and just as fine as the tie around his neck, while Baekhyun stands in a pair of briefs and an over-sized t-shirt that Chanyeol is sure is his. And it’s quite a sight when their eyes flutter close just like every cliché movie, with Chanyeol’s bottom lips barely grazing Baekhyun’s as one of his arms slide down till he’s pulling the shorter into him by his waist. Baekhyun still leans back; Chanyeol just leans closer.
“Hello, boys—oh look what we have here.”
There stands Mrs Park with her hands clasped together as she looks at her son and future son-in-law with a knowing look in her eyes. They’re still tangled up in each other’s arms and Baekhyun still has barely anything on, so he stumbles around Chanyeol and hides behind him, fingers holding onto his shoulders from behind as the taller man is left to converse with his mother. She looks way too happy, he thinks.
“Were we interrupting something? Should we leave? Do you need anything, necessities or maybe tips--”
“Fine, fine, we’ll wait out in the living room.”
With that, Mrs Park strolls out of the kitchen, voice loud as she tells her husband that their son is kindling with Baekhyun. Chanyeol hears his fiancé’s mumbled groan as the younger is still gripping onto the back of his suit as he manoeuvres him around to the edge of the kitchen door. Their feet shuffle together and Chanyeol slips against the floor with his leather shoes, Baekhyun’s legs bare but hidden behind his own slightly bowed legs.
“On the count of three, we’re going to rush to your bedroom so I can at least slip into something decent.” Baekhyun suddenly says, mouth pressed up against Chanyeol’s shoulder as his gaze moves over to see his future in-laws grinning up at their son.
Baekhyun doesn’t wait till three before he dives into their bedroom and starts looking around for clothes, hastily flinging discarded pyjamas pants and someone’s underwear to the other side of the room. He’s unaware that Chanyeol has followed him, too, watching him as he taps his foot against the carpeted floor.
The nickname almost catches him off guard. Almost.
“Hmm?” He hums instead, rummaging through a pile of clothes in the closet while trying to hide his burning face into a freshly washed sweater.
“Are we okay?”
Baekhyun finally stops, eyes trying to blink away the stinging in his eyes that shouldn’t be there, but his shoulders are slacking and his hands seem restless against his thighs. Chanyeol doesn’t prod further, even though Baekhyun can hear him shuffling closer towards the closet, towards where he’s still sat on his knees surrounded by piles of shirts and slacks. And then the taller man is crouching down, dipping his head a little because Baekhyun is refusing to meet his eyes, finding more interest in the thread count of a pale blue jumper.
“We are, aren’t we?”
Maybe it’s the uncertainty in Chanyeol’s voice, or maybe because Baekhyun has heard his voice softening plenty of times before but never sounding quite this small, that he finally looks up. His smile is tentative. Chanyeol tries smiling back, more like a twitch to his lips which falters the longer Baekhyun stays staring at him. Just like that.
“We’re more than okay, Park.”
His smile finally reaches his almond eyes.
Neither know how it happened but Baekhyun stares at Chanyeol with his droopy eyes wide and mouth open in disbelief. He feels the yolk of the egg running down his nose and flour against his eyelashes as he stands there with his own hands filled with cake batter, bunched up into his fists and ready to throw at the older man.
Chanyeol had got there before him.
The taller had been doing some work for the office in his bedroom when his nose scrunched up the smell of something burning.
A shriek fills up the kitchen as Chanyeol ducks under the counter and holds a hand against his chest, breathing heavily as his heart pounds deafeningly in his ears. The feeling burns and it takes him a while to stare across at the wall in front of him, thankful that Baekhyun missed his target – who else would it be. He stares at the splatter of what seems to be cake mix against the white walls of kitchen.
But why is it blue, Chanyeol thinks. His eyebrows furrow in confusion, his lips stay taut, and he finally decides to peek around the counter to see why Baekhyun would be attacking him with cake mix at this time of day.
“Oh come on, Park, you’re going to be a wuss and just hide there.”
There stands Byun Baekhyun in his pyjamas and an apron that is too frilly and bright red for Chanyeol’s taste, and he’s sure he’s seen Mrs Byun wearing the same apron a couple of times when he had gone to visit. He doesn’t think it’s the time to ask. Not when Baekhyun’s standing before him with a spatula in his hand, dripping with soggy cake mix gone wrong as he waves the kitchen utensil around like he’s ready for combat. Chanyeol almost cries at the mess of eggs and flour behind him.
“Are you preparing for war… or baking a cake, Byun?”
Baekhyun takes his time answering, opting to lick the spatula clean before nodding his head at Chanyeol. He then shakes it, holding up a finger as he does so, only to end up frowning once he realises that Chanyeol has him all confused.
“I wanted to make cupcakes, Park. You know, since someone refused to make them with me last time, so I thought why not. This kitchen is yours; what’s mine is yours.”
“So you thought you’d almost burn my kitchen down?” Chanyeol asks, perplexed, still crouching behind the kitchen island as he discreetly eyes for an object he can use to defend himself when he makes his escape.
Baekhyun whines, “it’s not like I did it willingly. Just what do you take me for.”
Chanyeol isn’t listening as he spots a bowl of untouched flour and eggs right beside him on the floor, only wondering how it ended up there for a little while before he’s standing up on his knees. Baekhyun’s still talking – he doesn’t know about what – but Chanyeol notices his balled hands filled with cake batter, dripping against his knuckles and onto the floor where it joins the rest of the mess made by him. His lovely fiancé doesn’t see it coming.
A handful of flour and two eggs later, Baekhyun stares through the flour in his eyelashes, feels the cold egg yolks running from his head to his nose. It’s sticky and tastes disgusting against his lips, even more than his cake mix he had given up on. He watches Chanyeol laugh, too speechless to comment as the man holds his stomach while he leans against the kitchen counter. He even wipes away a tear when he looks back up again to take a glance of a horrified looking Baekhyun.
Chanyeol doesn’t see it coming either.
Instead, he stills in his spot when Baekhyun suddenly starts to smile, lips stretching up till he’s staring at Chanyeol tight lipped. He’s unclenched his fists, letting the still wet cake mix drip onto the floor, but the glint in his eyes has Chanyeol terrified for his life.
“Oh, Channie-pie” The coo has the older man wincing, but Baekhyun’s suddenly clapping his hands together and Chanyeol feels his own skin flinch, “I kind of… want a hug right now. Won’t my giant hug me?”
Baekhyun doesn’t wait for an answer before he’s running after Chanyeol, chasing the shrieking taller man around the kitchen island, almost tripping up over discarded spoons here and there, but Chanyeol doesn’t get very far. Baekhyun pounces on him before he could reach the hallway. Instead of falling flat against the floor, Chanyeol’s hands reach out to grab onto the wall and it’s not long before he feels cake mix covered hands sliding under the front of t-shirt and slathering the mess all over his chest.
Baekhyun presses himself right up against Chanyeol’s back, laughing into the taller man’s shoulder as he tries to peek over and see his work of art. He’s shrugged off with a shake but that doesn’t stop him from latching onto the taller again, sticky hands stuck on warm skin and nose cold against the back of his neck. This time, Baekhyun also wraps one of his thighs around the man’s waist, chortling right into his ear about how this is so much fun.
Chanyeol soon feels fingers dipping into his belly button, making him squirm in place but Baekhyun just hugs him even tighter. Stuck together like cake mix. It certainly doesn’t help when the older man finds himself fighting back the groan in his throat as Baekhyun suddenly brushes his hands over his buds and presses the tips of his fingers harder against Chanyeol’s stomach.
“Ooh, Park. I knew you worked out but I can feel every single line--”
They both miss the sound of the front door opening.
“Uh, dad wanted me to let you know… can you warn a boy next time?!”
With that, Sehun rushes out of their apartment.
“So Park, cake mix kink.”
“Shut up, Byun.”
Chanyeol is fuming.
Somewhere between rearranging folders, someone had managed to mix up the case studies entirely, and the only person that comes to the older’s mind is none other than Byun Baekhyun. Who else would leave splotches of ink at the corner of selected pages as reminders?
He finds the younger in the kitchen, sorting through new plates he thought would look good with the kitchen – grey plates with blotches of white daisies on them, matching cups, too. He’s humming under his breath, too caught up in his own world to see Chanyeol by the kitchen door. Even the incessant tapping of his foot on the marble floor doesn’t catch Baekhyun’s attention, not until the taller is slamming down the case files onto the counter.
“Oh, Chanyeol! You scared me!”
He ignores the look of concern on Baekhyun’s face
His voice is low as he narrows his eyes down at the younger, raspy almost, one he uses when his employees are messing up and no one is able to utter a word, “You. You did this. All my files were rearranged according to the cases but now they’re all out of place, and I have a meeting tomorrow with the board—”
“Why is that my fault?” Baekhyun challenges, despite staring at Chanyeol in disbelief for a while, crossing his arms against his chest and biting back more words by teething at his bottom lip.
“B-Because you were the last one in the room before me—”
“I still don’t see how it’s my fault.”
“When isn’t it your fault, Byun.”
Chanyeol really shouldn’t have seen in coming, should have seen the furious glint in Baekhyun’s eyes as he slowly goes up to pick up an old plate from the table before dropping it back down onto the marbled floor. Glass splintering everywhere, Chanyeol starts spluttering as he sees the broken pieces bounce of the floor and all around Baekhyun. The younger remains unfazed, blinking down at the shattered plate.
“Are you insane—“
“Why is it always my fault?”
And the older man knows Baekhyun isn’t talking about the plate, or the papers for that matter. No, it’s much more that, he thinks as he watches the smaller’s chest heaving up and down, as he swipes a trembling hand across his mouth. He still hasn’t met his eyes but he finds himself walking closer towards him.
Then Chanyeol’s dropping a plate himself with a swipe of his arm, startling Baekhyun, who begins to fidget in place. His hands are curled up into fists now, staying by his sides as Chanyeol looks down at him expectantly, somewhat mockingly, yet Baekhyun stays in place once the taller starts to lean closer.
“Because I said so--“
“That means shit all, Park.”
Chanyeol jaw starts to twitch but so does Baekhyun’s eye, nostrils flaring slightly in anger while they stare each other down. This happens enough times in the boardroom, at parties, anywhere Baekhyun is breathing down Chanyeol’s neck as if that would annoy the taller male, trying to pick a fight wherever they go because he finds it too amusing. But this time, Chanyeol seems livid, and Baekhyun has never been so surprised.
“This is my house, in case you have forgotten, therefore my rules—“
“It’s my house, too, Chanyeol!”
Baekhyun takes a step back, and like every cliché film, he finds himself against the kitchen sink, hands reaching out to stop Chanyeol from walking any closer. There isn’t much space between them, not with how the taller has the tip of his nose touching Baekhyun’s. This way, he can only see droopy eyes piercing into his, sees the furrow of the younger’s eyebrows, sees just how beautiful he is up close. And Chanyeol has had it.
“You’re so infuriating, Baekhyun. Do you know that?”
“Me? I’m infuriating? Have you looked at yourself—”
“And I really want to kiss you right now.”
Chanyeol finally realises what he said. It’s expected when his almond shaped eyes turn wide, wider than Baekhyun has ever seen him, and his mouth falls open in shock. He takes a step and then two, putting his hands out in front of him as he does so to start shaking them around, mutely refusing that he ever let those words out. But he has, and Baekhyun isn’t saying anything, just staring at him incredulously.
He stands there, hands up against his chest and eyes hooded, while Chanyeol turns back around to flee to his room.
“What’s stopping you, Park?”
Against the leather sofa, sticky and hot, with the pillows discarded around the living room, Baekhyun keens as Chanyeol ruts in between his legs. He sits there naked and dishevelled, whereas Chanyeol remains partially clothed, his jeans unbuttoned and pulled down to his thighs along with his boxers so his member stood bare just like Baekhyun’s.
Chanyeol had turned around without a thought and kissed Baekhyun furiously in the kitchen, dipping his thumbs into the corner of his mouth so the younger man could kiss deeper, mouths hot as Baekhyun wraps himself around the taller.
With his hands under Baekhyun’s knees, Chanyeol bends him till he’s almost in half and the lube is starting to stain the sofa.
And then he’s thrusting in.
In and out, he pounds, gripping onto the top of his sofa as Baekhyun’s fingers dig into his back through the shirt. The younger seeks out kisses and Chanyeol returns them, softly unlike the quick pace of his thrusts. Said thrusts turn erratic with Chanyeol’s hips chasing Baekhyun’s like he has been chasing him for years, but it’s Baekhyun who is desperate when he threads his fingers through dark hair and pulls the taller down for another kiss.
Baekhyun has his feet planted firmly on the edge of the sofa, whining low under his breath as he pulls the shirt of Chanyeol completely. His fingers dig into the older’s shoulders, leaving marks of faint red behind, but it only has Chanyeol stumbling forward, sending him deeper into the smaller man.
He sends him into oblivion, slamming his member in and grazing Baekhyun’s prostrate. Driving into the younger’s tight warmth with an unrelenting pace, in and out, Chanyeol drags himself along the hot walls. It is then when the smaller stopped caring about how loud he’s screaming, voice tearing through the silence and cracking halfway, becoming a bumbling mess when Chanyeol pull him back roughly by the ankles to pin them to the head of the sofa.
He soon begins to thrust away into the tight warmness, even when the sofa starts shuffling backwards where Baekhyun kept sliding further up the leather but with nowhere to go. The pace is maddening, until the younger is bent completely in half, sitting up, where Chanyeol grips tighter onto the head of the sofa and spread’s his fiancé’s thighs. Baekhyun can feel the slight burn of his hips before Chanyeol is pushing his weight on top of him fully and practically squishing Baekhyun up against the furniture.
His groan is loud but it’s muffled because Baekhyun is kissing him again, is wrapping his legs around him till the heels of his feet are digging into the small of the former’s back. And then Chanyeol’s spreading his thighs even more, littered with bites from before, till Baekhyun feels the burn of his hips and his back is hot against the warm sofa.
But it’s Baekhyun’s mouth against Chanyeol’s, so yet so soft, that he finds himself stuttering.
“Chanyeol, I… I lov-”
He comes like that, staining his stomach and Chanyeol’s, crying into his fiancé’s neck and losing himself in the warm feeling pinching at his heart. Then he’s pulling back once Chanyeol’s hips stutter, and even though he’s sated, he holds the older man by his face. And only if Chanyeol had his eyes open, he’d see Baekhyun crying. He’d see him looking up at him so fondly, crescent eyes shining as he takes in the beautiful man before him. Yet soon enough, his eyes are closing, too, as he feels Chanyeol coming inside him, hot and heavy while Baekhyun clenches around him.
Like that, both bare and wet eyed, Chanyeol picks up Baekhyun while still inside him and stumbles towards their bedroom.
“You just left him!?”
Kyungsoo slams his hands against the oak table, startling the few other customers occupying the coffee shop at nine in the afternoon.
Baekhyun winces, resting his head in-between his arms as he shuffles around his seat, feeling sore after three restless rounds up until the morning, where Chanyeol had fallen asleep while holding onto Baekhyun’s hands. He smiles at the thought, absentmindedly looking out of the window and up the purple sky where snow falls heavily against the white floor.
It’s already Christmas Eve and Chanyeol had told him to wait for him, said he wanted to talk. Baekhyun waited, having left the office earlier, only to pace back and forth when he reached home, taking hurried glances at the door. He wasn’t ready for Chanyeol to tell him that last night was nothing, that it was all just fun and games. Of course he wasn’t. Not when he had stupidly and so hopelessly gone and fallen in love with the man.
Baekhyun doesn’t know, or when, but maybe he’s been in love with him this entire time. Because Chanyeol’s smile has always been bright, his almond eyes so beautiful and his heart a little too big just like himself, and Baekhyun has always noticed.
With a groan, he drops his head down onto the table none too gently.
“You tell me you had the best night of your life and that you almost told Chanyeol you love him, but then you run away from home when he told you to wait up for him?” Kyungsoo asks, completely baffled as he stares at his brother withering away in his seat, dwarfed by a jacket he’s sure is Chanyeol’s, “do you want the guy to love you back or not?”
Baekhyun smiles sheepishly up at the barista after his exclamation, earning himself a glare in return just as Minseok returns from the backroom and drags Jongdae back to the coffee maker. Kyungsoo sees right through the smile, watching Baekhyun as he looks uneasily out of the window, up to the ceiling, anywhere but his brother’s face because he knows he’s being stupid right now.
“I do, Soo, but… but I can’t. This marriage – it wouldn’t mean anything to him. We’re doing it for the sake of the family business, aren’t we? What- what if he never loves me back? What do I do then, Soo,” Baekhyun’s voice is quiet when he asks, muffled into the collar of Chanyeol’s jacket as he stares down at his hands, “because you and I both know Park will never love me.”
“You both really are idiots.”
Baekhyun doesn’t hear the little bell above the coffee shop, announcing a new customer, neither does he hear his name being called out in relief or the little footsteps Chanyeol takes towards him. He doesn’t see him holding a bouquet of roses, or the ring buried in his pocket, because Baekhyun starts talking. He talks, even though Kyungsoo tells him to shut up. He talks, although his brother is looking behind him worriedly, but he’s too lost in the stinging of his heart.
“I... I can’t do this, Kyungsoo. I have to break off the marriage. It’s never going to work out. Our parents gave us a week but were they really expecting anything, huh? Did they think we were both going to be head over heels in love with each other? That’s not how it works, Soo. Nothing ever works like that.” Baekhyun’s voice breaks, but Chanyeol doesn’t know what for “This was all just so- so stupid!”
It’s when Baekhyun finally turns around after Kyungsoo shoves at his shoulder with his hand, ready to yell back at his brother if it weren’t for Chanyeol looking down at him like that. Like Baekhyun has just broken his heart right then and there. He looks like he doesn’t know who the roses are for anymore, or why he’s holding two dozen in his hands, but he does because he knows they mean I love you. But Chanyeol still throws a smile towards Kyungsoo, albeit his lips shaking and his eyes watering under the dim lights in the coffee shop, but he doesn’t look at Baekhyun. He’s refusing to look at Baekhyun.
He places the flowers down, turns around and walks out of the café like he never stepped foot in it.
Kyungsoo barely gets a word in before Baekhyun is running out after him.
The young heir bites on his bottom lip to stop the chattering off his teeth, the winter air nipping at his skin. It’s Christmas eve yet the streets are somewhat empty, only a few walking around with armfuls of presents. Despite the city streetlights twinkling too bright against the snow filled sky, and the Christmas carols too loud against his ears, he still spots out Chanyeol in-between everything else.
“I’m not going to run after you so you better stop when I’m telling you to stop!” Baekhyun threatens, marching right up to the older man who stills in his spot at the familiar voice yelling down the street, “these boots aren’t made for running!”
Some start to notice Baekhyun before they’re peeking up to take discreet glances of the taller man, putting two and two together and finally realising that the heirs to Park, Byun & Sons – the most talked about couple in the industry – are right in front of them. One is red in the face, the other with his tongue in his cheek, but both their eyes glisten under the falling snow.
“I—you—it’s all a misunderstanding, Park. But I said nothing but the truth—”
Baekhyun yelps when Chanyeol suddenly turns around, cheeks coloured a furious red and mouth pulled down into a scowl as he stomps over to the younger and towers over him. The people watch on. Baekhyun only takes one glance around before his droop eyes are boring up into Chanyeol’s red rimmed ones.
“You know I’ve been in love with you for years, right?”
Chanyeol doesn’t blink when the younger stumbles backwards, or when he stares up at him in disbelief. Instead, he points a finger into Baekhyun’s face, until it touches his slightly buttoned nose, and continues to seethe.
“No, listen to me, Byun!” The taller man suddenly bellows, surprising himself before he’s straightening up his shoulders and holding his breath, “I have been in love with you for who knows how long? Maybe since I was seven, but would I have known what love really is back then? I don’t know. All—all I knew was that… was that you, Byun Baekhyun, had so selfishly taken my heart without asking. W-Wasn’t your own enough for you? I didn’t…”
However, Baekhyun can’t help but be mesmerised at the way Chanyeol’s eyes seem to glow against the purple sky, and maybe it’s the streetlights, but even the snowflakes seem to shine as the other stands before him. Maybe it’s in the way that Chanyeol is pouring his heart – something he would have never imagined – and it’s all for him. A confession, trembling hands and cheeks that seem to redden with every word, it’s all for him. From Chanyeol.
“I have been in love with you for the longest time. Wanting you to love me back. I wanted to… I wanted to kiss you senseless, Baekhyun. I wanted to kiss you with everything that I have; I still do. I wanted to take you on dates. Hell, I wanted to take you to prom, give you flowers and- and I couldn’t. Because there was no way you were going to love me back. I- I wanted to be your best friend.”
It’s a shuddering intake of breath that has Baekhyun breaking out of reverie, but he isn’t sure who that belonged to.
It’s his because Chanyeol is crying. He’s crying into the back of his hand, cries broken and muffled like he suddenly can’t breathe. He’s not looking at Baekhyun; he doesn’t notice Baekhyun’s bottom lip quivering as the tears start to blur the city lights. And then Chanyeol cries like a downhearted child, eyes red rimmed but covered by the palms of his hands, even when he feels hands tugging at his wrists gently alongside whispers of his name.
“I love y-you.”
“And I don’t know what to do.”
The taller doesn’t fight when Baekhyun suddenly brings him into his arms, or when he feels the same hands pulling at the collar of his jacket for him to bend down so Baekhyun can wrap himself around him.
It’s a sight for most, who watch with soft smiles as Baekhyun tiptoes to card his fingers though Chanyeol’s hair, rocking back and forth against his fiancé. He doesn’t mind when Chanyeol holds onto his waist a little too tight or when he knows that his hair is wet from the melted snowflakes and Chanyeol’s tears. He doesn’t mind. He’s in love. He’s crying, too, into Chanyeol’s shoulder that shakes under his mouth, but it’s warm, and he’s in love. Even when Chanyeol starts wailing and Baekhyun hasn’t seen him cry this hard since his twelfth birthday party. Baekhyun may or may not have accidentally pushed over his cake.
“Stop c-crying, you dumb giant. I love you, too.”
Baekhyun pulls back, only to wipe away the hot tears against Chanyeol’s cheeks and then his still shaking lips because he can’t stop crying.
“You look so ugly when you cry,” Baekhyun teases, scrunching up his nose and twisting his pink lips a little. The smile widens when Chanyeol laughs through a sob and soon they’re laughing together, wiping away each other’s tears with their fingers, “stop or I’m leaving you here.”
It’s when the cameras start to flash and journalists start to cheer that Baekhyun realises he’s kissing Chanyeol.
With hands holding onto his face so gently, he feels a cry against his mouth but he knows Chanyeol is happy because he’s murmuring I love you against his lips. I love you, Byun Baekhyun. And with arms secure around him like they’re never going to let him go, Chanyeol picks up Baekhyun and twirls him around under the winter sky, snow falling heavily against the ground and the city streetlights shining so brightly behind.
“I love you, too, Park Chanyeol.”
“And that, my dear son, is how me and your papa fell in love.”
“Chanyeol, he’s only a year old; he doesn’t understand you.”
The older man gapes at his husband of five years as the latter quickly turns around to send him a scowl. With Chanbee in his arms, Baekhyun goes back to cooing once their daughter starts to gurgle while they rush up the stairs to the reception hall with Chanyeol and their son behind him. Chanhyun laughs in Chanyeol’s arms like he’s heard the funniest joke to ever exist, and his father pinches his little button nose before following the other two into the venue.
“You’re trying to turn my kids against me?” Chanyeol asks, gasping dramatically, shuffling up behind his husband and daughter with his son as they weave in between the wedding guests.
Rolling his eyes, Baekhyun tuts under his breath and continues striding towards the stage once he takes Chanhyun into his arms, fixing his little tie as he does so. The one year old begins to giggle at his twin, with Baekhyun bouncing them in his lap and a gloomy Chanyeol behind them.
The family of four wait in line, ready to take pictures with the two grooms on stage, a little jittery but all amazed by the sharp, crystal lights above them and the buzzing of all their family and friends.
Baekhyun soon grows restless, eyes glancing over to his husband behind him as he puffs his cheeks out, but soon enough, he’s painting their babies’ faces with his kisses while they squirm in his arms. He can feel Chanyeol sulking behind him, yet he remains unfazed when his husband drops his chin to his shoulder, glancing down at their babies and pouting at them.
“it’s your fault we’re late to the wedding! My own brother’s wedding at that. What are Kyungsoo and Jongin going to say?” Baekhyun scolds, but his tone is light, and Chanyeol knows he’s far from being angry.
“That we’re very hard-working parents, which is very evidential since you have a bit of baby food on your collar-”
“But don’t worry, at least you don’t smell of baby puke like you did this morning.”
It’s Baekhyun’s turn to gasp as he turns around in his spot, gaping up his husband. And if it weren’t for their twins in his arms, he would have his hands on his hips and his foot already tapping the floor. The taller man only smiles at him sheepishly. But it’s gone as soon as the photographer calls for them next, and Chanyeol’s planting a soft kiss against his cheek before he’s running up onto the stage towards Kyungsoo and Jongin.
“I still love you, sweetheart!”
“W-Well, I love you more, stupid!”