Fragments
Author: ANONYMOUS
Recipient: baekmebacon
Title: Fragments
Word Counts: 9.8 K
Side Pairing(s): None
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Smut
Disclaimer:The celebrities' names/images are merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrities are in real life. No offense is intended towards them, their families or friends. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this fictional work. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Chanyeol suddenly receives a box full of cassette tapes which recorded Baekhyun's voice and reasons and goodbyes.
Author's Note: Please give Chanyeol a lot of love, he’s the star of this fic really. And major love to my recipient for the amazing inspiration! Happy reading lovers!
It’s what people call an LDK apartment in a small dirty corner of Hongdae. An LDK is ideal for single living, for those looking for a studio, for those who don’t mind living in tight corridors because it consists of only a living room, dining area and kitchen. The power lines hang low to the streets with a fuzzy covering of onset dusk from years of neglect, a black web of fire hazard netting pulled down by weight and gravity. Chanyeol’s LDK is a shrine to the man he used to be, a man with a boyfriend, a man in love. He chose his apartment because it was the right price and the apartment number is 506, his boyfriend’s birth date. His shadow casts a cool shadow over his door, his long fingers fumbling to find the key. He shifts the weight of his guitar over his shoulder, shoving the metal to socket and unlocking a path into the vacant room. The lights are turned off, the air conditioning humming low, and there is a lingering stale smell that feels like solitude. There seems to be a permanent layer of dust in this space, now that he’s gone. There are dishes that never got used, cups that collect time in grey layers, and the side of the bed that remains permanently cool.
His life is like this room, a standstill of days that have passed that he refuses to acknowledge. His life is like this, a place abandoned long ago. His job is the same, still playing guitar for a weekly gig at the Grand hotel’s stage productions. Still nothing to brag about, and really, nobody to brag to. He sets down his acoustic in tired care and touches the frayed stitching along the shoulder strap’s edge, tossing the mail on the counter with a release of apathy in a sigh. If he disappeared, how long would it take for someone to notice? His work would be the first to call, and after two days, leave a final voice message that two were no-call, no-shows mean that he’s out of work. Then his landlord would note on the first of the month. Then his bills would stack one by one, and then how long would it take for others to notice that they haven’t spoken to their tall depressed friend in a while?
He pulls a lighter from the junk drawer in the kitchen and stares at the abandoned mess of miscellaneous items, birthday candles, twist ties, and rubber bands. Seemingly useful items tossed aside, waiting for a day when someone will pick them from the drawer. He flicks the lighter a few times, sparks but no light.
“Come on, dammit.” He breathes as the fire gives in to the aggressive switch of his thumb.
He lights a candle, a holiday candle from his company party at the hotel. Burned only twice since December, it too shows it’s age and abandonment, but the glow within the glass is pleasant, and Chanyeol watches the flame for a moment in awe.
He sets the lighter down on the counter, a gesture meant to inspire a new ritual of candle lighting. Taking hold of the mail once more, he rips into bills that have already been paid, a monthly automatic deduction as long as there’s money in the account. Trash, trash, trash… He thinks, tossing the opened envelopes aside. Coming across a package delivery slip, he drops the rest of the mail and gives his second long sigh of the night. A package from Kim Minseok… unusual. He flips it over and sees the space for a signature. He calls the automated line from his cellphone, schedules the redelivery and shuffles to his desk to sign off for drop off. He drops the pen back into a yellow coffee mug but stares at it for too long.
“Now it holds pens,” He whispers touching the handle and rubbing away the residue between his fingers. “because you abandoned it here without a purpose.”
“Park Chanyeol! You lumbering idiot! you left a wet rag in the sink to fester and now the whole house smells like mildew!”
Chanyeol grinned, attacked in the doorway before the door had swung shut behind him. The tiny man comes storming across the apartment, hands on his full hips, thin legs bowed at the knees with his toes pointing in.
“Hi, honey! I’m home!” He sang mockingly in reply but his boyfriend remained unamused.
“Chanyeol! I have been burning candles for 3 hours in the kitchen and the living room and I can still smell that wet rag!”
Chanyeol sniffs the air and shrugs as he kicks off his shoes.
“Really? All I smell is apple cinnamon.”
Baekhyun’s hold on his hips falter and he sniffs too.
“Yeah… it’s starting to smell better now… but the point is, Chanyeol, that I have been telling you for months and months to stop leaving used rags in the kitchen sink. This is a small apartment and it’s not sanitary at all! Can’t you please just listen to me about this?”
Chanyeol gives his best attempt at a serious face, dropping his guitar and moving towards the man before him.
“I absolutely should. I need to ring out the rag, unfold the rag, hang it to dry.” He said wrapping his arms around Baekhyun and looking down at him with what could only be described as condescending love.
“You’re not taking this seriously.” Baekhyun growled, turning in his arms so that they no longer faced one another.
“I am being serious, babe. I am being really…” He leaned in to trace his lip along the edge of Baekhyun’s ear. “really serious right now…”
Baekhyun moved into the touch, tilting his head to give the man better access to dot the rim of sensitive skin with hot licks of his tongue on soft kisses.
“You’re never serious…” Baekhyun combatted weakly and stiffening his shoulders under Chanyeol’s breathy laugh.
“I’m always serious when it comes to you, Baekhyun.”
Baekhyun grabbed hold of Chanyeol’s arms secured around his middle and pressed his weight into the man’s chest, giving in to the man’s afternoon seduction.
“You get away with murder.” Baekhyun growled, low and seductive and Chanyeol took that white flag moment and twirled him back around for a proper greeting and kiss.
Chanyeol has all but forgotten the slip of paper he left on his door in the morning. He forgets all of the time between the time he leaves this dungeon apartment to the time he comes home, daily. Because time only restarts again when he steps outside the door of this apartment, and it stops once more when he returns. And the only time that means anything are the long hours he spend in the dark wondering how many more hours he has until he has to get up to go back to work again.
So stepping out of the elevator, and seeing the box propped against his front door, he had a temporary lapse of memory, quickly erasing the day’s events and getting back to his glum state of mind. Minseok’s package... right. He processes the box with a nod of the head, confirming his own actions. He picks it up, feeling the slide of something inside, shift weight around. He sandwiches it under his arm with his mail, and unlocks the door to the same gritty darkness he’s become so painfully aware of. The first few weeks of silence were like picking up a call to dead air. The following few weeks were a blissful freedom. And from there it degenerated into an increasing paranoia of how isolated he became. Their friends hadn’t meant to take sides, but they each became distant. There were no people calling him up to do couple things because he was no longer in a couple unit and from there it seemed to escalate further and further. Kicking open the door, he steps on his heels, pulling his shoes off and resting the guitar case gently on hard wood. This guitar is new. The last one was broken, it was thrown and the spine snapped when he declared in heated rage that he no longer wanted to move from his bed.
Rage, like isolation, is a side effect of breakups.
He tosses the box and mail to the counter and picks up the lighter to light his candle. It releases little to no scent, but flickering light eases pressure in his chest without forcing him to turn on the blinding artificial lights.
He makes himself a sandwich, raw canned tuna on a piece of lettuce, set between hard slices of white bread. The meal takes 5 minutes to make, 5 minutes to eat. No plates are used. The process is quick and messy, crumbs marring the countertop with dotted white spots, remnants of a thousand nights spend doing the same thing. Nobody is here to tell him to clean it up now. He’s never really cared anyway. He tosses the empty tuna can to the trash and saunters from the room for a shower. And when time has passed enough for him to blow out the candle and lock the door, he remembers his package, set on the counter and forgotten once more. He grabs the box, flipping it over once or twice to look it over before taking a kitchen knife to the tape sealed corner and popping it open. He peeks inside, seeing nothing but darkness and then empties the contents onto the counter. Clear cassette cases skitter across the brown counter top amidst crumbs and he stares, confused, as the unwelcome gifts.
He reaches inside for a letter or something to identify the tapes but there is nothing more inside. He sets the hollowed cardboard aside and begins picking up the cassettes, reading the black ink labels with dates on them and setting them back down one at a time.
“What the hell is this?” He growls, pushing them away with a roll of his eyes once he found no additional clues to their significance.
He makes his way to his room after locking up and flops onto his side of the bed. What the hell is Minseok doing sending him a box full of old ratty cassettes, all dated 2 years ago. What an idiot. It’s too late to call him now, but he’d call him when he wakes up to scold him for not sending so much as a note. How the hell is he supposed to even listen to the damn things, who even has cassette players anymore?
What are those dates? They seem spread out over the course of a year, the handwriting is almost familiar, probably Minseok’s dirty writing, but it’s hard to tell with all numbers. Then again, he should be able to recognize Minseok’s numbers from all the times he got math tutoring from him in college. But there are a lot of things he doesn’t remember about college and the subsequent years following. Things like meeting and falling in love with the pretty bar tender at the his favorite club, moving in with him, dating him for 5 years…
Chanyeol sits up suddenly, eyes adjusted to the darkness, he eyes the faint white glow of the closet door reflected in moonlight. Baekhyun’s box. The box of things Chanyeol had gathered, things left behind that were too much Baekhyun to keep out, that were too much Baekhyun to throw away. There is a cassette player in that box. But with that are photos, a watch, a tooth brush… The box on the top shelf, like the junk drawer in the kitchen, is a collection of miscellaneous objects that should only be sought on rare occasion. Looking at the closet door, thinking about opening the box, makes his stomach twist. Deciding that it’s not worth the stress, he lies back on the mattress, turning away from the vacant half of the bed, he closes his eyes and wills sleep to come.
Baekhyun’s rummaging around doesn’t bother Chanyeol, he was used to the man making noise. He seemed perpetually busy cleaning, reorganizing, rearranging, talking on the phone, singing along to music or playing phone games. He was a loud person, in all the he does, he made chaos and Chanyeol absolutely loved it. He loved his loud mouth and the fight in him, he loved the man’s singing voice when he missed the notes and tried again, and he loved the way he cursed at the hand held device he played games on, calling the gumdrops and flying birds names. But on that day his noises were agitated, they were irritated growls and slammed boxes with the busy ruckus of plundering.
“Chanyeol-ah!” He called from the other room.
Chanyeol doesn’t bother pausing the game, mashing a callous onto his finger from the day in and day out controller use. Baekhyun had gifted him the new fallout game and he’s been fixated with it since he put it in his xbox. Baekhyun came into the room, running his hand through his hair, the other set on his hip.
“Chanyeol-ah, I can’t find Beauty and the Beast.” He said, sounding truly concerned about the misplaced movie.
“It’s in the DVD rack, you reorganized it last week. It should be alphabetical.”
Baekhyun comes over and gets to his knees beside Chanyeol and tugs on his shirt sleeve.
“I know where the DVD is. I want to know where the VHS is.”
Chanyeol glances over with a perplexed expression and scoffs.
“I threw it away when you got the DVD, like, a long time ago.”
Baekhyun’s hand dropped from Chanyeol’s sleeve and he glanced over to see his boyfriend’s blanched expression with a startle.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“Chanyeol! Please tell me that’s just a sick joke!”
He doesn’t look up from his game, twisting his arm as he presses buttons rapid fire, insync to the action on the screen.
“No. I got rid of the tape.”
Baekhyun got suddenly to his feet and stormed away, Chanyeol not taking note until a pillow slammed into the back of his head. He pressed pause, grabbing the pillow, and finally gave his boyfriend his full attention.
“What are you so pissed off about?” Chanyeol barked, looking at the trembling man before him.
“I’m pissed off that you got rid of my precious tape I had since childhood without so much as asking!”
Chanyeol threw the pillow at the couch and threw his hands up in defeat.
“Whatever! I’m sorry! Why the hell did you buy the DVD if you were only going to watch it on VHS?”
Baekhyun’s eyes travel with an exaggerated roll as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“The special features, duh.”
Chanyeol scoffed again, rubbing his hand through the short hair at the base of his neck, eyes kept on the ground, unwilling the face his boyfriend’s temper tantrum.
“Special features… right…” He whispered, turning back to the TV and taking a seat.
“You’re the worst!”
“Yeah, Baekhyun. I guess I’m the beast.”
His boyfriend’s second hurled pillow missed his head and landed on his arm.
“You’re not the beast! The beast was good. You’re insensitive and selfish, you’re Gaston!”
Chanyeol had no patience left to play Disney analogies all night, so he left it be and kept playing his game.
“Why the hell did you send me cassette tapes?” Chanyeol barks into the phone.
“It’s good to hear from you too. I wasn’t sure if you moved or not, but clearly you haven’t.”
“Cassette players are like $30 bucks, even buying them used. What the hell is on the cassette tapes?”
Minseok takes a moment to say something to his friend before answering Chanyeol, a muffled sound of voices followed by a gently cleared throat.
“They’re your cassettes.”
“Like hell they are, I haven’t listened to a damn cassette tape since I was in the 1st grade.”
Chanyeol looks both ways before crossing the street, stepping aside to let a cyclist past as he walks home from work.
“That’s not true, Chanyeol. Baekhyun used to listen to cassette tapes all the time.”
Chanyeol stops walking for just a split second, resuming his quick pace after a beat, long legs making quick stride across the beeping intersection.
“So, that’s more reason for me to avoid the damn thing. So what the hell are on these damned tapes, Kim Minseok?”
So much time passes without response that Chanyeol actually pulls the phone away to see that the call is still connected.
“Chanyeol… Listen, I can’t make you do anything.”
“Right, which is why I’m going to dump these tapes in the garbage and forget the investment into a machine I’ll only use once.”
“I can’t make you do anything. But I strongly suggest that you listen to them. Strongly suggest, Chanyeol.”
He rolls his eyes and shifts his phone from one hand to the other, wiping the sweat on his thigh and shaking his head with resignation.
“Don’t let your stubbornness keep you from something important again, Chanyeol. That’s all I have to say about this.”
And true to his threatening words, Minseok clicks off of the line without so much as a goodbye.
Baekhyun was leaning against Chanyeol’s curled back with his phone in hand, both seated on their carpeted living room floor while he played his xbox. Baekhyun’s announcement that their 2 year anniversary was coming up was met with Chanyeol’s mocking hoot of excitement.
“Woo. 2 years. Way to go.”
Baekhyun seemed unphased by the lack of enthusiasm though. He sighed wistfully and nuzzled the back of his head against Chanyeol’s boney spine.
“Can we do something special this year?”
“We did something special last year, we went out to eat.” Chanyeol replied, still focussed as ever on his gaming.
“No, I mean, can we really do something special?”
Chanyeol paused the game, turning so that he forced Baekhyun to sit up on his own without using the crutch of his boyfriend’s bad posture.
“I can do you for our anniversary.”
Baekhyun shoved him with a blush and shook his shaggy permed hair out.
“No, I mean, like… I don’t know this is really special. 24 months is the longest I’ve ever been with one person.”
Chanyeol set the controller down. He cupped Baekhyun’s chin in the crook of his finger and pulled him in close enough to dust a light kiss over his lips. Baekhyun leaned into the touch, crawling forward until he could hold onto Chanyeol’s shoulder and melt another kiss.
“You’re the first I’ve spent this much time with too, Baekhyun.” He breathes, holding Baekhyun’s waist in place. “This is going to be special, because you’re special.”
They collided against the floor with the back of Baekhyun’s head cradled safely in Chanyeol’s hand. He kneed the space between Baekhyun’s thighs apart and began the creep of fingers along the hemline, tugging gently to expose the creamy abdomen of his lover.
“You’re not getting off the hook just because we’re having sex.” Baekhyun warned.
“Oh, we’re having sex right now? Is that what we’re going to do? Because I was just--”
“Shut up and stop pretending you’re not hard, I can feel you, asshole.”
Chanyeol smirked, grabbing another kiss between arrogant but happy grins down at the man who wrapped his arms around his neck to hold him in place.
“I’ll get to your asshole in a minute, Baekhyun. You are so demanding.”
Baekhyun’s eye roll was almost playful but for his stern mouth.
“You better not get me another practical gift like last year. A shower curtain is not an anniversary gift.”
Chanyeol unhooks the button of his denim and thumbs over the outline of Baekhyun’s erection with slow teasing strokes.
“But it’s a clear plastic shower curtain… So I can see your pretty naked ass when you shower…”
Baekhyun closed his eyes, arching up into his boyfriend’s familiar touching.
“That’s a gift for you.” Baekhyun pointed out.
“But then I want to join you, and joining you naked leads to rub and tugs and that’s a gift for both of us.” Chanyeol winks before closing the distance between their mouths once more. “I’m teasing, I already bought you your gift.”
Baekhyun wraps his legs around Chanyeol’s hips and grins.
“I love you, baby.” He breathed.
And Chanyeol left the detail of his gift unspoken after that, knowing it was too practical to warrant praise. While his logic was sound at the time, in hindsight, he saw Baekhyun’s disappointment coming. His own personal wireless xbox controller would really only benefit one person. But he did buy it with the hope that Baekhyun would use the extra controller to spend more time together…
Chanyeol stares at the pile of cassettes on the kitchen table, sitting next to a used portable cassette player. Though the feeling that this is a colossal waste of time is weighing him down, he pushes past his gut instinct and picks up the tapes. The earliest one is dated in mid summer, 2 years back. That was a terrible time for Chanyeol. Baekhyun left, he lost his job for a few weeks and had to beg to get it back, and thought he might lose the apartment. He had to borrow money from friends just to cover his bills. The beginning of a long dark depression that had no guiding light to push through to. Really, Kim Minseok must be trying to kill him.
The cassette pops in, and the button to play makes a loud archaic sound as it’s pressed in.
The first sound present is the static of silence, no breathing, no movement, only dead air. Chanyeol slouches back in the seat, closing his eyes and almost laughs. If Minseok made him waste money on a cassette player he’ll only use once to listen to blank tapes, he’ll hunt him down and murder him. While the sound of static is strangely comforting, a lull of chaos at the right frequency to soothe him, he still didn’t need a blank tape to tell him he likes peaceful white noise to sleep to.
All at once, there is a soft sound, then shuffling around, and then a soft sniffle.
“What the hell is thi--”
“Hey Chanyeol…”
Chanyeol stops his breathing at the sound of his name. He stops the tape and rewinds it.
“Hey Chanyeol… It’s me, Baekhyun...”
It’s been so very long since he’s heard his name from this voice that for just one delusional moment, he thought that he was imagining it. He could have sworn he remembered the sound of his voice so clearly, but the inflection is ever so slightly off on this. Baekhyun’s voice is like a nightmare, a haunting sound that drives him mad. And now with this new forbidden fruit, he’s fairly certain his life if over. He will carry around the portable cassette player and replay this sound byte forever, because it’s such a very comforting whimper. His heart stops in his chest with the pause following his name and he scrambles through the cassettes on the table, looking at the handwriting, at the dates relating to his life falling apart.
“This is such a weak way to break up with someone… but I can’t think of any other way to tell you that I’m leaving.” Baekhyun says and Chanyeol’s breathing halts and his eyes close.
No. He doesn’t want to hear this. He doesn’t want to relive this pain. He can’t go through this again, but the temptation of the sound of his voice keeps him frozen in place. The fear of losing even one precious sound bite leaves him paranoid he could have missed something.
Where did Kim Minseok get these tapes? Why did Baekhyun leave his breakup tape with Chanyeol’s college friend and not give them directly to Chanyeol?
“No! Let go of me!” Baekhyun thrashed against the man’s hold, twisting his entire body to either side, fighting his boyfriend’s tight grip on his forearms, unafraid they could leave marks in the struggle. “My things are packed! I’m leaving!”
Chanyeol refused to let him go though, shaking him by the shoulders.
“Stop it! You’re not leaving!”
Baekhyun slammed his little fists, small and dainty against Chanyeol’s chest, beating him down with little to no strength behind the soft pounds as he shutters another sob from his open mouth. Tears matte his hair to his cheek and his lips are wet with his running nose, mouth hung open without sound as he desperately tried to break free.
Chanyeol pulls the man in and holds him against his chest, leaning in and kissing the corner of Baekhun’s open mouth.
“Stop it. I’m sorry. You’re not going anywhere. You belong with me. Stop it.” He soothed, keeping calm and cool as he stroked Baekhyun’s frail back, holding him in place with one arm banded across his hips.
Baekhyun’s tears didn’t cease with the kisses across his cheek, wet strokes of Chanyeol’s soft lips coming in against salty skin, dewy with Baekhyun’s feeble resolve to leave. He kissed Chanyeol back, fingers fisting in his lover’s shirt as he pulled himself in to close the space between them.
“Like hell I’m going to let the man I love leave like this...:” Chanyeol whispered against a feverish kiss.
The velvet of Chanyeol’s tongue tangled in hot licks against Baekhyun’s and at once, he was aware that he would not be leaving Chanyeol on this day.
“Like hell…? Like hell, Chanyeol…? Like hell but you can’t even put in the effort to make this work? You’re awful… awful…” Baekhyun whimpered, falling to his knees tangled with Chanyeol.
He held Baekhyun until his tears subsided and they both moved on without speaking of the incident, but for days following, the packed bags remained zipped tight, ready to be carried out the door.
“This is so awkward… talking to a tape recorder… but who are we kidding, I would never be able to say this to your face. I know that you think tapes are obsolete and you’ll probably never get this and you’ll probably never listen to it, but it needs to be said.”
Chanyeol can feel his anger, pitted in his belly, festering with every word, spreading through his chest like brush fire. But turning it off is no option at this point, so bear with it he will. He can’t tell if he’s angry that he loves the sound of the man’s voice so much or angry that he has the tapes of Baekhyun’s voice at all. But either way, he marches on, the tape keeps spinning brown tap away and the words come filtered through with each passing moment, a lullaby of anguish slowly melting him.
“The truth be told, Chanyeol, something had to change. We weren’t happy, no, not really… You must have known that. Are we great friends? Yes. Do we have great sex? ...Yes… Yes, of course we do… but when is that enough? If both parties aren’t happy, it’ll never work and you--you have traded our relationship for scraps at your every whim.” His pretty ex’s voice is soft, sad, and tired. This is not the loud voice of the man he fell for, but the shell of the man who left him. Why is it that when Chanyeol thought of Baekhyun’s absence, he didn’t remember this side of him?
“Why, Chanyeol? Why didn’t you fight for us? Why did you never cave, even once, for us?”
Chanyeol swallows hard, hanging his head, cupped in his hands for support, feeling like he could fall over at any moment.
“I didn’t want to leave things the way that we were, Yeol. I wanted us to be happy… I tried… I tried so hard… I tried to talk to you, I gave you suggestions for how to change, I even let you make a fool of me in front of our friends, our family with every promise I made to them that you’d change this time. I swear… I swear that I tried. I wanted us to work, and I loved you so much… I love you.”
Chanyeol stands up abruptly and hits the stop button. This is torture. Why would Kim Minseok make him do this? Why would he put this on the table, knowing Chanyeol would give in to it? He walks into the kitchen and lights the candle, agitated by the haunting words of the man he could not have. Still… Chanyeol runs his fingers through the fire, moving too fast to be burned, tempting the universe with every brush of his skin through flame.
“Alright, Kim Minseok.” He growls under his breath, walking back to the table and taking a seat.
“You always say that if it isn’t broken, we shouldn’t fix it. But it is broken, Chanyeol. We’re broken beyond repair. And if I’m the only one who sees it, then I’m the only one who can fix it. You probably hate me now… don’t you? It’s better that way I think. Move on from this. Move on and find happiness. I will too…”
Chanyeol’s spidery fingers were coarse against Baekhyun’s thigh as he raked the man’s supple bottom against his bare skin. Bakehyun whimpered, limp as a rag doll under his boyfriend’s harsh movements. Chanyeol lifts his thighs up, docking them over his strong shoulders and pressing his mouth against his knee in a sloppy kiss. The smell of sweat permeated their senses as they shared haggard breaths between lusty whispers of need and want. Chanyeol’s hard velvet cock pushes in once more against the pinkened skin as he applied pressure to the base of Baekhyun’s spine with another hard rock of his length inside of him. Baekhyun’s delicate fingers claw at Chanyeol’s skin as he tears at his boyfriend’s skin with short nails.
“Chanyeol…” He whimpers.
“You, okay, baby?” He replied with a soft touch of his lips to Baekhyun’s knee once more.
“I’m fine, Yeol. Don’t stop. Stretch me again.”
Chanyeol nods his head and leans forward, angling Baekhyun’s peachy ass up at the right angle for him to drive into him.
Baekhyun wipes the sweat from his eyes, hating the sting of salty water blurring his vision, and awes up at the man, pushing into him, his God like physique above him, looking down at him as if he had never seen anything so alluring in his life.
Baekhyun fumbles his touch to his own length, wrapping his fist around the vein wound length and stroking down on it, the foreskin pulls over the glossy pink head, a beaded white pearl blooming from the reddened slit at the tip.
Chanyeol pushed Baekhyun’s hand away, replacing his hand in its place to stroke his lover off. He twisted his wrist ever so slightly as he pulled down too slowly and Baekhyun whined against the movement, begging for more.
“You make the cutest faces when I play with your cock.” Chanyeol moaned, leaning in to smother the man with kisses.
“You’re making it too easy for me.” Baekhyun panted, kissing him back, fingers in the man’s dark hair.
“Don’t stop, Chanyeol.”
“Hell no, you’re making that face I like again. Say my name again, Baekhyun.”
“Ch-Chanyeol…” He moaned bucking his hips into the man’s hard strokes as he sputters translucent white cream around his lover’s hand and abdomen.
“God, it’s hot when you do that.” Chanyeol panted.
Chanyeol adjusted himself, pulling out slightly before pushing back in, twisting his hips with motion. Wild berry lube squeezes out around his swollen cock and trickled down Baekhyun's pale skin. Baekhyun clenched around him, holding the headboard for support as Chanyeol growled his approval under his breath and rides against Baekhyun's tight ass with hard slaps of skin. Lubricant wet sounds keep Baekhyun's mind occupied as he becomes increasingly aware of the situation. Slick sweat, sticky cum and gooey artificially flavored and scented lube are the glue holding their relationship together. Looking up at the man he's in love with cumming, spilling his bitter seed inside of him with his weakened last push. He couldn't give this up. He couldn't give him up.
Chanyeol lowered Baekhyun's thighs from around his shoulders and pulled out, lubrication and cum married pulse from his breathing pink hole the way he liked and he smiled down at the man on his back in his bed.
"Baekhyun, I have to tell you, there's nobody in this world that I want as much as you. I'm so in love with you God dammit..."
“Sometimes being in love isn’t enough. Being happy with a person isn’t enough…” And though he speaks these words, he doesn’t seem sold on them at all.
Baekhyun seems unsure, nervous, scared… If he had these tapes then. If he had listened to them then, and heard the uncertainty there in his trembled tone, would he have been able to save their relationship? Had he heard how hurt Baekhyun was, would he be able to go back and take hold of their quarrelling and push through with a resolution? This is where they left things. An uncertain Baekhyun leaving behind a worthless Chanyeol. This is their legacy. And had he not been blind, he could have remedied this and kept him at his side. Was it arrogance that kept him thinking that Baekhyun would be back? Did he think that Baekhyun would give in and come crawling back at some point or did he know that it was the end and refuse to accept it?
“Please don’t think this is easy for me. Please don’t think that I stopped loving you… Making this tape is really the most selfish thing I’ve ever done in our relationship. This is the most selfish thing I’ve ever done. But I need to tell you these things because these 5 years have been so real for me… Chanyeol, you are the love of my life. Leaving you is the hardest thing I will ever do.”
Chanyeol stops staring at the cassette player and pulls off his hoodie, balling it in a pillow and resting atop it.
“You are the love of my life, Byun Baekhyun.”
“I will never love anyone as much as I loved you, I’m sure of it. But love is not enough… We need to fix this and there is nothing you want to fix. So this is over. Because this can’t go on like this. I have a life to live, you have a life to live, and together we’re a toxic mix. I enable you to stay the way you are and I don’t ever get resolution because I love you too much to force you to change. I’m sorry…”
Chanyeol buries his face in his arm and shakes his head.
“You sick bastard… I could have moved on…”
But the truth is, Chanyeol had plenty of opportunity to move on and he chose not to, because forgetting Baekhyun would be too painful.
Chanyeol rolled over in tune to the siren blare of his alarm to smash his fist to the white digital clock, leg brushing against Baekhyun’s beneath the comforter. He smiles against the bright lights that sneaked through the blinds and breathes in the smell of morning. The smell of blanket and sweat, shampoo and morning breath, a pleasant smell that greeted him daily. This was the smell he loved to be awoken to, a weird fetish he kept secret. His love at his side, he soaks the heat from the other side of the bed in, tracing sheets with his toes over cool fabric until he finds warm cotton.
Baekhyun, still sleeping, shrugs off the advance of his other half but Chanyeol found it endearing and cute. He reaches for the man’s gently arched shoulder and traces the lines with another weak pull of his cheek.
“Not today.” Came Baekhyun’s reply, mouth stuck together with sleep, words mumbled.
But Chanyeol wasn’t trying for sex, he only wanted to touch the man he loves so much. This quiet moment when the man is sleeping at his side, like a daydream, bathed in white morning light. His skin hot to touch and his features relaxed and limp with fading unconsciousness.
He came in with a soft brush on coarse hair, thighs pressing together and nuzzles his nose into Baekhyun’s neck.
“Good morning, B.” He whispered
.
“I said… Not… today.” Baekhyun pushed him away, sitting up and throwing the comforter aside violently.
The alarm went off once more at that moment, a siren ringing, an emergency signal that should have set off lights flashing in Chanyeol’s mind but he was too caught up in how cute Baekhyun looked when he was half asleep and angry. He pushed off the bed, stumbling over his own feet in the baby blue briefs strapped across Chanyeol’s favorite soft cushions.
“I work until 1AM but you still insist on waking me up just so that you can get your rocks off, you’re such an inconsiderate jerk. I cannot stand it when you pull this.” He mumbled as he walked to the bathroom.
“Hey Chanyeol… It’s me, Baekhyun… Listen, You’re selfish, inconsiderate, you never listen to my complaints, you don’t ever help out with the cleaning when I ask, and the surprise cleaning attacks that come out every 3 or 4 weeks is not the same. I clean up daily, and you come in every so often? That’s not fair. And to be perfectly honest, you go too long between bathing. 2 or 3 days will pass and you’ll only then consider taking a bath if you don’t leave the house. Chanyeol. That’s gross. Your ears are too big for your head and you drive like a bat out of hell, I’m glad your transmission died so you can’t drive that death trap…”
Chanyeol sits back in the chair and crosses his arms over his chest with a narrowing of his eyes.
“Jesus, B. Don’t hold back. Tell me how you really feel.” He mumbles to himself, feeling less stupid about talking back to a recorded tape.
“I… I’m sorry… I’m glad you can’t drive that death trap because… I can’t bear the thought that you could be out there dead. I need to know you’re alive and well. I need to know that somewhere out there, you’re alive and okay. I miss you already and I don’t want to think about you out there alone. I want you to move on and find happiness with someone who has the courage to kick your butt in gear.”
Fuzzy static hangs in the air, the distance between them insurmountable. A voice on the other end of the line that has long since changed. A voice on the other end of the line that has long since abandoned him and moved on. And yet, here they both sit, a recording and a man, registering the words just spoken with like minds and heavy hearts.
“I’m sorry.” Baekhyun whispers. “Maybe I didn’t love you enough. I don’t want you to think that this is all your fault. I know it’s not. I’ve been pushing you away. I’m a coward and I’m not good enough for you. I know it. I don’t even have the courage to say these things to you in person. But I love you. Or maybe I used to… But I can’t be with you as you are. I’m not… I’m not good for you.”
The tape fades out to static and then cuts off, leaving an eery new silence in the wake of their static filled silences they shared.
“You can’t be the only one to decide things though. You didn’t have the courage to talk to me, and that may be partially my fault. But you can’t decide single handedly if you’re good enough for me or not. Stop belittling my feelings. I can decide who’s good enough for me. Fuck you, Byun Baekhyun…”
“Where were you?”
Chanyeol raced across the room as Baekhyun stepped across the threshold, nose red from the cold, cheeks flushed, peeking over a tightly wound baby blue scarf. His eyes looked wide and surprised as he met Chanyeol’s nervous energy at the door like a puppy, ready to pounce.
“After 3 years, you still greet me like this?”
“I was worried, Baekhyun. Your phone is turned off.” Chanyeol reached forward and cupped Baekhyun’s face. “Why is your phone turned off?”
Baekhyun stared up at him for a long moment, eyes glistening and pressed his cheek to Chanyeol’s cheek.
“I left my charger at home, so my phone died.” Baekhyun squeezed the man tighter and Chanyeol took that moment to lift him up off the ground with a soft laugh.
“You’re in big trouble, mister. I was worried sick.”
Baekhyun looked up at his tall boyfriend and grinned.
“Punish me, master.”
“Damn right I will. When I get done kissing you and checking you and making sure you’re okay.”
Baekhyun was happy that night, wrapped up in his layers of coats, his hat and his scarf, his fingers less nimble through the thick wool gloves he wore. Chanyeol’s lean body fit against him in a towering length that left Baekhyun’s heart double timed. Chanyeol lifted the bundled man up into his arms and walked him to the bedroom and set him down on the soft cushion of their bed.
“You must be tired from standing all day…” Chanyeol said, pulling away the man’s cap and setting it down, ruffling his hair with adoration touching his tender gaze.
“I love you.” Baekhyun stroked fine black hairs from Chanyeol’s cheek and breathes in a shaky breath.
“How did I meet you?”
“You don’t remember how we met?” Chanyeol sounded almost hurt by the idea but calmed with Baekhyun’s laughter.
“I do, I just… I can’t figure out how I got so lucky.”
Chanyeol collapsed on the bed at his side and they stared up at the ceiling. Chanyeol swiped across the ceiling like a wand and leaned his head into Baekhyun’s.
“Well see, what happened was, the stars looked down and saw that you were good, so they gifted me to you as a show of love…”
Chanyeol holds the stack of cassettes over the trash, black cotton sock covered toes pressing on the pedal, holding the lid open. But rather than looking at the tapes poised to be thrown away, he looks past his hand to the other things he’s thrown away. The emptied bag of bread, a half empty can of tuna, an emptied water bottle. The things in this bag are trash, useless things that he has no feelings for. They are easily discarded. But Baekhyun… Baekhyun is not something that he can so easily throw away. So now he stands in a torn place. He must confront the reality of his two options. He can throw away the items and never see them again or he can put them in Baekhyun’s box. And putting them in Baekhyun’s box would require that he open it up, something he hasn’t done in years… not since he dumped it all in there with the last shred of hope he had that Baekhyun would come back to him.
But maybe it’s time to open it up. Maybe this is the right time.
He lets the garbage lid close and deciding against throwing Baekhyun’s tapes to the trash and makes his way to his closet door. He tosses the labelled cases to the bed and opens the door, looking up at the brown amazon box with the letter “B” scrawled on it hastily with black sharpie. He fists his hands as he stares up at the box, un-fisting slowly and repeating the process as he gathers his courage. He reaches up, getting on his tiptoes, despite his height and knocks the box down so that he can open it up. He sets the box on the edge of the bed and stares at it for a long moment. This could probably be considered detrimental to his health, but it’s an important step he needs to take, and really, well past time for it.
With a long heavy sigh, he grabs his headphones from his side table drawer and plugs them into the portable cassette player. He picks out the second tape recorded by date and places it inside and hits play. Allowing the static to lull him once again, he adjusts the volume and closes his eyes.
“Hey Chanyeol… it’s me Baekhyun....” Chanyeol breathes in and waits patiently for the voice to come back. “I listened to the last tape. It’s kind of a mess, right? I was feeling conflicting things. It’s been a month since I saw you. Truth be told, I thought you were going to come after me. But you didn’t. The first time you decide to listen when I tell you what I want, and you decide to listen when I say I need space and run away. Serves me right, I guess. Hey Chanyeol…”
Chanyeol opens his eyes and looks at the box, swiping a finger along the edge to collect dust.
“I really miss you these days, and the life we had together. I know this is a phase, and I’m not saying I think we should get back together because we’re unhealthy together, but I really miss our life. Waking up to you in the morning, drool crusted white in the corner of your mouth. I miss making breakfast in the kitchen with you hovering behind me, holding my hips nestled against your morning wood. Sorry… maybe that’s too much… but, that’s what I think about most these days. I think about the things that I took for granted, and I know that you took them for granted too. The next time we fall in love, can we make a promise to one another that we won’t take the little things for granted? I want to appreciate it better next time. Savor it better. Really experience the little things as more than passing moments. I know I never fully appreciated your kissing until I kissed someone else.” Chanyeol’s hands ball to white knuckle fists and his breathing comes in deep, quick heaves as he tries not to think about Baekhyun with another person.
“Don’t worry, you big goof. I knew almost instantly that it wouldn’t work. I told him I was sorry and that I don’t want to rush things. I haven’t called him since. It was just one date… not that it matters… we’re broken up, so I don’t know why I’m justifying this like it’s any of your business. Probably because it felt like cheating, even to me. Sorry, Chanyeol. I’m not ready to be over you. But I will be someday. We’ll both be okay. It might take 5 years more of thinking about you before I can look at the sky and not only see you there, smile brighter than the sun.”
Chanyeol reaches for the box and pulls it closer, opening the untaped flaps and peering down inside. There is a hoodie, folded neatly, the way he left it on top of the washing machine, unwashed. Pulling the sweat shirt to his chest, he holds it up and breathes in the musty smell with the linger of cologne, earthy and perfect. This smell that he thought he would forget too easily, brings with it a million memories of smiles, laughter, embraces, and the little man storming past him.
“Why didn’t we ever make up enough to be friends? I bet you want to know that, right? I think it’s because once people love like we did, we can’t go back to being just friends. Because every time I see you take a sip of water, I would watch you with the eyes of a man who knows what you look like naked. That’s why we can’t go back to being friends. Because we complicated things with sex. But it’s okay. Because we complicated things as a result of a natural evolution. I wanted it, and you wanted it. And one day, we looked at one another and we knew that this would be our life. I believe that people are meant to meet and fall in love. I believe that people grow into being the people they are as a product of the people that shape them. You have left an impression on the person I will become and the hardships that I went through dating you will make me a stronger man. Maybe next time, I’ll be able to tell him that I’m afraid we’re ruining our relationship before it’s already too late.”
Chanyeol pulls a cherry candy wrapper and a receipt from the pocket and smiles to himself, unfolding the receipt and looking over the slightly faded black ink.
“Baekhyun, You bought coffee filters and a strawberry ice cream cup at the convenience store.” Chanyeol whispers to himself, smiling wistfully.
“Is this the biggest mistake I’ve ever made? Leaving you? I still can’t tell. Maybe I’d rather be unhappy with you than happy with someone I don’t care for as much…”
Chanyeol replaces the receipt and candy wrapper back in the pocket and folds it back.
“No, Baekhyun… you deserve to find happiness.”
Chanyeol’s mother kissed Baekhyun’s forehead as they parted ways and waved goodbye.
“I love you, son-in-law! Eat well and take good care of my Chanyeol!” She called.
Baekhyun nodded his head and ran over to where Chanyeol is waiting with the umbrella.
“Son-in-law?” Chanyeol asks.
“She proposed for you, I told her I would think about marriage when you stopped being such a pain.”
Chanyeol wrapped his arm around Baekhyun’s shoulder and he grabbed the hand resting at his cheek with a soft whisper of kisses over his knuckles.
“What would we do for a wedding?” Chanyeol asked.
“I would be the bride, because I’m pretty enough for that. You would be the groom, because you’re not as pretty, and together we would walk down the aisle of an airplane, skipping the service and going straight to the honeymoon in Hawaii.”
“Straight to honeymoon, huh? The only straight thing about our relationship.” Chanyeol chuckled and Baekhyun elbowed him.
“I’m serious.”
“5 years into dating and you’re just now springing this on me? If you wanted a ring, you should have told me so. I would have locked you down years ago.”
Baekhyun leaned into the weight around his shoulders, closing his eyes with contentment.
“I’m already locked down. I’m exactly where I want to be when I’m with you.”
“Damn right.” Chanyeol said pulling him in to kiss his forehead.
“Do you think this is as good as it gets?”
Chanyeol made sure that Baekhyun was covered under the umbrella as they walked under the edge of an awning pouring harder.
“Every relationship goes through ups and downs. We’ve certainly gone through our share, but I think that we’re where we’re meant to be. And I’m good where I’m at, with you.”
Baekhyun held Chanyeol’s hand a little tighter but he said nothing more about the topic.
Chanyeol holds the last tape in his hand, all of the contents of the box but one spread around the comforter carefully. No two items untouched and each small reminder of the man he loved left Chanyeol’s chest feeling a little lighter.
“How can I still feel better just touching your things again, Byun Baekhyun? If this was not love, then what could possibly be worth fighting for” The 5th and final tape is dated a year and a half ago previously.
Chanyeol’s phone rings and he pulls the headphones out to answer.
“Jongdae, whats up?”
Jongdae’s immediate laughter leaves Chanyeol rolling his eyes and shaking his head.
“What’s going on? You sound like you’re in a good mood! Did you get laid?”
“No, you idiot. I’m home alone.”
“Ohhhh, I see what you were busy with, naughty boy. Are you holding the phone with that dirty hand?”
“Jongdae, I’m not masturbating. I’m cleaning. Actually, I’m going through Baekhyun’s old things. I thought it was time.”
Jongdae seems taken back with an awkward sounding forced laugh and Chanyeol realizes how strange it must be for others who have known what Chanyeol has been like. For years, he hid in his house, barely leaving. He has become a recluse but now, hearing Baekhyun’s voice, he feels like maybe it’s time for a change. The torture of having his voice in his ears for 6 hours straight has yet to really sink in. Each tape turned over new perspective of his relationship. And Baekhyun isn’t completely wrong. He wasn’t a great boyfriend to him. He didn’t fight for their relationship the way he should have because he thought that Baekhyun would never leave.
“Well I’ll just leave you to your… cleaning of Baekhyun’s shrine…” Jongdae jeers with a chuckle.
“I’m actually cleaning, you pervert.”
“Oh, I’m sure you are. Just remember, surgery for carpal tunnel is expensive.”
“Kim Jongdae!” He hangs up the phone, touching his cheeks and realizing he was embarrassed and smiling.
Baekhyun coming back into his life has brought back light, laughter, friendship… Yes, it was the fact that he hasn’t been able to get closure. The unknowing…
Chanyeol presses play.
“Hey Chanyeol… it’s me, Baekhyun… I said I didn’t want to change you, Chanyeol. I said I was afraid to tell you about things because I was afraid to change you. But I think you changed the day we met. Do you remember when we met? You changed the day you met me, you were always changing for me, and I was evolving and spinning out of control and you were the calming presence that stayed constant, evolving with me. I was wrong to blame things on you. I was wrong to accuse you of not changing. I was the one that should have worked harder. We both should have.”
Chanyeol smiles, reaching into the box and picking out the last object. A framed photo of the two of them. Baekhyun’s smile looks up at him unchanging and unfamiliar. As if he were looking upon a stranger, Baekhyun’s smile looks blissful. He could scarcely remember the last time he smiled like that.
“It’s not your fault either, Baekhyun. I wish I could tell you that.” He breathes, stroking his finger over his thumb. “But I understand why you left without saying goodbye. Because I don’t want to say goodbye either. What did you say…? Some people are meant to meet and fall in love, right?” He replaces the items back into the box one by one and smiles to himself.
“My world revolved around the existence of Park Chanyeol. Every breath was a reflection of how much I cared for you, but that’s not the way it’s supposed to be. Because I was too in love with you that I forgot to see myself. Next time I fall in love… If I could ever love anyone again the way that I loved you… I promise to do it right. I hope that you find happiness and peace. Forever yours, Baekhyun.”
Chanyeol waits for the tape to end and the play button to pop. He stares up into the ceiling light, the artificial light blinding and bright.
“Forever mine, Baekhyun.” He whispers, pulling out his headphones.
He removes the cassette, replaces it in it’s case and closes it. He holds it there long enough to warm the plastic and presses a goodbye kiss to the smooth surface before placing it gently with the other tapes in the box and closing it back up one last time.
The dance music pummeling the beats through the walls in heavy trembling beats shook the ground as the song changed over that night. Park Chanyeol had probably had more beer than he should have but he was feeling good. His friends were out of cigarettes and he didn’t want to be bothered with letting them free bum his last smokes so he snuck away from the popping club scene to have moment outside.
Standing with his back to the street, Chanyeol pinches the brown paper to his lips and flicks the lighter’s red button to sparks.
“Come on…” He mumbles around the cigarette.
The stubborn lighter refuses to torque flames stubbornly for a minute more before finally coming to life under his commanding thumb.
“That’s bad for you, you know.”
Chanyeol looked up at the entrance of the club where a petite man in a black button down is unrolling his shirt sleeves and buttoning them in place at his wrists. He gave the bouncer a high five and walked towards where Chanyeol was standing.
Chanyeol took a slow drag of his cigarette and lowered his lashes with a smirk, starting at the man’s feet and travelling up the length of his narrow but soft figure. Broad shoulders and narrow, rounded hips, looking slight but not frail. He was a walking contradiction, bright smile in all black.
“I know it’s bad for me.”
“You know but you still do it?” The man replied, unfolding the coat off of his forearm and sliding his arms through to expose those thin fingers once more.
“I do a lot of things that are bad for me. I don’t have a reason not to.” Chanyeol said, flicking the brown butt of his cigarette absently to ash.
“You have reasons.”
Chanyeol stepped closer to the man and looked down at him, wondering how a man could have such opposing features, looking both masculine and feminine. His eyes are thin with long dark lashes, his mouth pert, a birthmark faint above his upper lip. Chanyeol had never wanted to kiss a stranger as much as he did in that moment.
“What kind of reasons?”
He smiled up at Chanyeol, knowing and confident.
“What do my reasons matter, I’m a stranger.”
“I’d like to change that.” Chanyeol took another long drag off of his Marlboro red, breathing out the smoke to the side so as not to bother the man.
“Easy there, buddy, I’m only the bar tender. You can save your A game for one of the drunk girls inside.”
Chanyeol nodded, hair loosened where it had stuck to his face with sweat from the crowded interior.
“I’m really more interested in how I can get a kiss from you.”
Baekhyun’s colored cheeks were so unexpected and so very welcome.
“Well, you could start by not tasting like an ashtray.”
Chanyeol looked him over, serious as a heart attack and smirked. He tosses the cigarette aside and stamps it out with the toe of his boot, grabbing the pack of cigarettes from his pocket and tossing it to the trash can.
“Park Chanyeol, I’m your future boyfriend.” Chanyeol extended his hand, feeling suddenly nervous about his surge of confidence.
The man grabbed hold of Chanyeol’s wrists and got to his toes to plant a quick kiss to a stranger’s lips.
“Byun Baekhyun, I’ll be your future heart breaker.”
Recipient: baekmebacon
Title: Fragments
Word Counts: 9.8 K
Side Pairing(s): None
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Smut
Disclaimer:The celebrities' names/images are merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrities are in real life. No offense is intended towards them, their families or friends. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this fictional work. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Chanyeol suddenly receives a box full of cassette tapes which recorded Baekhyun's voice and reasons and goodbyes.
Author's Note: Please give Chanyeol a lot of love, he’s the star of this fic really. And major love to my recipient for the amazing inspiration! Happy reading lovers!
It’s what people call an LDK apartment in a small dirty corner of Hongdae. An LDK is ideal for single living, for those looking for a studio, for those who don’t mind living in tight corridors because it consists of only a living room, dining area and kitchen. The power lines hang low to the streets with a fuzzy covering of onset dusk from years of neglect, a black web of fire hazard netting pulled down by weight and gravity. Chanyeol’s LDK is a shrine to the man he used to be, a man with a boyfriend, a man in love. He chose his apartment because it was the right price and the apartment number is 506, his boyfriend’s birth date. His shadow casts a cool shadow over his door, his long fingers fumbling to find the key. He shifts the weight of his guitar over his shoulder, shoving the metal to socket and unlocking a path into the vacant room. The lights are turned off, the air conditioning humming low, and there is a lingering stale smell that feels like solitude. There seems to be a permanent layer of dust in this space, now that he’s gone. There are dishes that never got used, cups that collect time in grey layers, and the side of the bed that remains permanently cool.
His life is like this room, a standstill of days that have passed that he refuses to acknowledge. His life is like this, a place abandoned long ago. His job is the same, still playing guitar for a weekly gig at the Grand hotel’s stage productions. Still nothing to brag about, and really, nobody to brag to. He sets down his acoustic in tired care and touches the frayed stitching along the shoulder strap’s edge, tossing the mail on the counter with a release of apathy in a sigh. If he disappeared, how long would it take for someone to notice? His work would be the first to call, and after two days, leave a final voice message that two were no-call, no-shows mean that he’s out of work. Then his landlord would note on the first of the month. Then his bills would stack one by one, and then how long would it take for others to notice that they haven’t spoken to their tall depressed friend in a while?
He pulls a lighter from the junk drawer in the kitchen and stares at the abandoned mess of miscellaneous items, birthday candles, twist ties, and rubber bands. Seemingly useful items tossed aside, waiting for a day when someone will pick them from the drawer. He flicks the lighter a few times, sparks but no light.
“Come on, dammit.” He breathes as the fire gives in to the aggressive switch of his thumb.
He lights a candle, a holiday candle from his company party at the hotel. Burned only twice since December, it too shows it’s age and abandonment, but the glow within the glass is pleasant, and Chanyeol watches the flame for a moment in awe.
He sets the lighter down on the counter, a gesture meant to inspire a new ritual of candle lighting. Taking hold of the mail once more, he rips into bills that have already been paid, a monthly automatic deduction as long as there’s money in the account. Trash, trash, trash… He thinks, tossing the opened envelopes aside. Coming across a package delivery slip, he drops the rest of the mail and gives his second long sigh of the night. A package from Kim Minseok… unusual. He flips it over and sees the space for a signature. He calls the automated line from his cellphone, schedules the redelivery and shuffles to his desk to sign off for drop off. He drops the pen back into a yellow coffee mug but stares at it for too long.
“Now it holds pens,” He whispers touching the handle and rubbing away the residue between his fingers. “because you abandoned it here without a purpose.”
“Park Chanyeol! You lumbering idiot! you left a wet rag in the sink to fester and now the whole house smells like mildew!”
Chanyeol grinned, attacked in the doorway before the door had swung shut behind him. The tiny man comes storming across the apartment, hands on his full hips, thin legs bowed at the knees with his toes pointing in.
“Hi, honey! I’m home!” He sang mockingly in reply but his boyfriend remained unamused.
“Chanyeol! I have been burning candles for 3 hours in the kitchen and the living room and I can still smell that wet rag!”
Chanyeol sniffs the air and shrugs as he kicks off his shoes.
“Really? All I smell is apple cinnamon.”
Baekhyun’s hold on his hips falter and he sniffs too.
“Yeah… it’s starting to smell better now… but the point is, Chanyeol, that I have been telling you for months and months to stop leaving used rags in the kitchen sink. This is a small apartment and it’s not sanitary at all! Can’t you please just listen to me about this?”
Chanyeol gives his best attempt at a serious face, dropping his guitar and moving towards the man before him.
“I absolutely should. I need to ring out the rag, unfold the rag, hang it to dry.” He said wrapping his arms around Baekhyun and looking down at him with what could only be described as condescending love.
“You’re not taking this seriously.” Baekhyun growled, turning in his arms so that they no longer faced one another.
“I am being serious, babe. I am being really…” He leaned in to trace his lip along the edge of Baekhyun’s ear. “really serious right now…”
Baekhyun moved into the touch, tilting his head to give the man better access to dot the rim of sensitive skin with hot licks of his tongue on soft kisses.
“You’re never serious…” Baekhyun combatted weakly and stiffening his shoulders under Chanyeol’s breathy laugh.
“I’m always serious when it comes to you, Baekhyun.”
Baekhyun grabbed hold of Chanyeol’s arms secured around his middle and pressed his weight into the man’s chest, giving in to the man’s afternoon seduction.
“You get away with murder.” Baekhyun growled, low and seductive and Chanyeol took that white flag moment and twirled him back around for a proper greeting and kiss.
Chanyeol has all but forgotten the slip of paper he left on his door in the morning. He forgets all of the time between the time he leaves this dungeon apartment to the time he comes home, daily. Because time only restarts again when he steps outside the door of this apartment, and it stops once more when he returns. And the only time that means anything are the long hours he spend in the dark wondering how many more hours he has until he has to get up to go back to work again.
So stepping out of the elevator, and seeing the box propped against his front door, he had a temporary lapse of memory, quickly erasing the day’s events and getting back to his glum state of mind. Minseok’s package... right. He processes the box with a nod of the head, confirming his own actions. He picks it up, feeling the slide of something inside, shift weight around. He sandwiches it under his arm with his mail, and unlocks the door to the same gritty darkness he’s become so painfully aware of. The first few weeks of silence were like picking up a call to dead air. The following few weeks were a blissful freedom. And from there it degenerated into an increasing paranoia of how isolated he became. Their friends hadn’t meant to take sides, but they each became distant. There were no people calling him up to do couple things because he was no longer in a couple unit and from there it seemed to escalate further and further. Kicking open the door, he steps on his heels, pulling his shoes off and resting the guitar case gently on hard wood. This guitar is new. The last one was broken, it was thrown and the spine snapped when he declared in heated rage that he no longer wanted to move from his bed.
Rage, like isolation, is a side effect of breakups.
He tosses the box and mail to the counter and picks up the lighter to light his candle. It releases little to no scent, but flickering light eases pressure in his chest without forcing him to turn on the blinding artificial lights.
He makes himself a sandwich, raw canned tuna on a piece of lettuce, set between hard slices of white bread. The meal takes 5 minutes to make, 5 minutes to eat. No plates are used. The process is quick and messy, crumbs marring the countertop with dotted white spots, remnants of a thousand nights spend doing the same thing. Nobody is here to tell him to clean it up now. He’s never really cared anyway. He tosses the empty tuna can to the trash and saunters from the room for a shower. And when time has passed enough for him to blow out the candle and lock the door, he remembers his package, set on the counter and forgotten once more. He grabs the box, flipping it over once or twice to look it over before taking a kitchen knife to the tape sealed corner and popping it open. He peeks inside, seeing nothing but darkness and then empties the contents onto the counter. Clear cassette cases skitter across the brown counter top amidst crumbs and he stares, confused, as the unwelcome gifts.
He reaches inside for a letter or something to identify the tapes but there is nothing more inside. He sets the hollowed cardboard aside and begins picking up the cassettes, reading the black ink labels with dates on them and setting them back down one at a time.
“What the hell is this?” He growls, pushing them away with a roll of his eyes once he found no additional clues to their significance.
He makes his way to his room after locking up and flops onto his side of the bed. What the hell is Minseok doing sending him a box full of old ratty cassettes, all dated 2 years ago. What an idiot. It’s too late to call him now, but he’d call him when he wakes up to scold him for not sending so much as a note. How the hell is he supposed to even listen to the damn things, who even has cassette players anymore?
What are those dates? They seem spread out over the course of a year, the handwriting is almost familiar, probably Minseok’s dirty writing, but it’s hard to tell with all numbers. Then again, he should be able to recognize Minseok’s numbers from all the times he got math tutoring from him in college. But there are a lot of things he doesn’t remember about college and the subsequent years following. Things like meeting and falling in love with the pretty bar tender at the his favorite club, moving in with him, dating him for 5 years…
Chanyeol sits up suddenly, eyes adjusted to the darkness, he eyes the faint white glow of the closet door reflected in moonlight. Baekhyun’s box. The box of things Chanyeol had gathered, things left behind that were too much Baekhyun to keep out, that were too much Baekhyun to throw away. There is a cassette player in that box. But with that are photos, a watch, a tooth brush… The box on the top shelf, like the junk drawer in the kitchen, is a collection of miscellaneous objects that should only be sought on rare occasion. Looking at the closet door, thinking about opening the box, makes his stomach twist. Deciding that it’s not worth the stress, he lies back on the mattress, turning away from the vacant half of the bed, he closes his eyes and wills sleep to come.
Baekhyun’s rummaging around doesn’t bother Chanyeol, he was used to the man making noise. He seemed perpetually busy cleaning, reorganizing, rearranging, talking on the phone, singing along to music or playing phone games. He was a loud person, in all the he does, he made chaos and Chanyeol absolutely loved it. He loved his loud mouth and the fight in him, he loved the man’s singing voice when he missed the notes and tried again, and he loved the way he cursed at the hand held device he played games on, calling the gumdrops and flying birds names. But on that day his noises were agitated, they were irritated growls and slammed boxes with the busy ruckus of plundering.
“Chanyeol-ah!” He called from the other room.
Chanyeol doesn’t bother pausing the game, mashing a callous onto his finger from the day in and day out controller use. Baekhyun had gifted him the new fallout game and he’s been fixated with it since he put it in his xbox. Baekhyun came into the room, running his hand through his hair, the other set on his hip.
“Chanyeol-ah, I can’t find Beauty and the Beast.” He said, sounding truly concerned about the misplaced movie.
“It’s in the DVD rack, you reorganized it last week. It should be alphabetical.”
Baekhyun comes over and gets to his knees beside Chanyeol and tugs on his shirt sleeve.
“I know where the DVD is. I want to know where the VHS is.”
Chanyeol glances over with a perplexed expression and scoffs.
“I threw it away when you got the DVD, like, a long time ago.”
Baekhyun’s hand dropped from Chanyeol’s sleeve and he glanced over to see his boyfriend’s blanched expression with a startle.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“Chanyeol! Please tell me that’s just a sick joke!”
He doesn’t look up from his game, twisting his arm as he presses buttons rapid fire, insync to the action on the screen.
“No. I got rid of the tape.”
Baekhyun got suddenly to his feet and stormed away, Chanyeol not taking note until a pillow slammed into the back of his head. He pressed pause, grabbing the pillow, and finally gave his boyfriend his full attention.
“What are you so pissed off about?” Chanyeol barked, looking at the trembling man before him.
“I’m pissed off that you got rid of my precious tape I had since childhood without so much as asking!”
Chanyeol threw the pillow at the couch and threw his hands up in defeat.
“Whatever! I’m sorry! Why the hell did you buy the DVD if you were only going to watch it on VHS?”
Baekhyun’s eyes travel with an exaggerated roll as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“The special features, duh.”
Chanyeol scoffed again, rubbing his hand through the short hair at the base of his neck, eyes kept on the ground, unwilling the face his boyfriend’s temper tantrum.
“Special features… right…” He whispered, turning back to the TV and taking a seat.
“You’re the worst!”
“Yeah, Baekhyun. I guess I’m the beast.”
His boyfriend’s second hurled pillow missed his head and landed on his arm.
“You’re not the beast! The beast was good. You’re insensitive and selfish, you’re Gaston!”
Chanyeol had no patience left to play Disney analogies all night, so he left it be and kept playing his game.
“Why the hell did you send me cassette tapes?” Chanyeol barks into the phone.
“It’s good to hear from you too. I wasn’t sure if you moved or not, but clearly you haven’t.”
“Cassette players are like $30 bucks, even buying them used. What the hell is on the cassette tapes?”
Minseok takes a moment to say something to his friend before answering Chanyeol, a muffled sound of voices followed by a gently cleared throat.
“They’re your cassettes.”
“Like hell they are, I haven’t listened to a damn cassette tape since I was in the 1st grade.”
Chanyeol looks both ways before crossing the street, stepping aside to let a cyclist past as he walks home from work.
“That’s not true, Chanyeol. Baekhyun used to listen to cassette tapes all the time.”
Chanyeol stops walking for just a split second, resuming his quick pace after a beat, long legs making quick stride across the beeping intersection.
“So, that’s more reason for me to avoid the damn thing. So what the hell are on these damned tapes, Kim Minseok?”
So much time passes without response that Chanyeol actually pulls the phone away to see that the call is still connected.
“Chanyeol… Listen, I can’t make you do anything.”
“Right, which is why I’m going to dump these tapes in the garbage and forget the investment into a machine I’ll only use once.”
“I can’t make you do anything. But I strongly suggest that you listen to them. Strongly suggest, Chanyeol.”
He rolls his eyes and shifts his phone from one hand to the other, wiping the sweat on his thigh and shaking his head with resignation.
“Don’t let your stubbornness keep you from something important again, Chanyeol. That’s all I have to say about this.”
And true to his threatening words, Minseok clicks off of the line without so much as a goodbye.
Baekhyun was leaning against Chanyeol’s curled back with his phone in hand, both seated on their carpeted living room floor while he played his xbox. Baekhyun’s announcement that their 2 year anniversary was coming up was met with Chanyeol’s mocking hoot of excitement.
“Woo. 2 years. Way to go.”
Baekhyun seemed unphased by the lack of enthusiasm though. He sighed wistfully and nuzzled the back of his head against Chanyeol’s boney spine.
“Can we do something special this year?”
“We did something special last year, we went out to eat.” Chanyeol replied, still focussed as ever on his gaming.
“No, I mean, can we really do something special?”
Chanyeol paused the game, turning so that he forced Baekhyun to sit up on his own without using the crutch of his boyfriend’s bad posture.
“I can do you for our anniversary.”
Baekhyun shoved him with a blush and shook his shaggy permed hair out.
“No, I mean, like… I don’t know this is really special. 24 months is the longest I’ve ever been with one person.”
Chanyeol set the controller down. He cupped Baekhyun’s chin in the crook of his finger and pulled him in close enough to dust a light kiss over his lips. Baekhyun leaned into the touch, crawling forward until he could hold onto Chanyeol’s shoulder and melt another kiss.
“You’re the first I’ve spent this much time with too, Baekhyun.” He breathes, holding Baekhyun’s waist in place. “This is going to be special, because you’re special.”
They collided against the floor with the back of Baekhyun’s head cradled safely in Chanyeol’s hand. He kneed the space between Baekhyun’s thighs apart and began the creep of fingers along the hemline, tugging gently to expose the creamy abdomen of his lover.
“You’re not getting off the hook just because we’re having sex.” Baekhyun warned.
“Oh, we’re having sex right now? Is that what we’re going to do? Because I was just--”
“Shut up and stop pretending you’re not hard, I can feel you, asshole.”
Chanyeol smirked, grabbing another kiss between arrogant but happy grins down at the man who wrapped his arms around his neck to hold him in place.
“I’ll get to your asshole in a minute, Baekhyun. You are so demanding.”
Baekhyun’s eye roll was almost playful but for his stern mouth.
“You better not get me another practical gift like last year. A shower curtain is not an anniversary gift.”
Chanyeol unhooks the button of his denim and thumbs over the outline of Baekhyun’s erection with slow teasing strokes.
“But it’s a clear plastic shower curtain… So I can see your pretty naked ass when you shower…”
Baekhyun closed his eyes, arching up into his boyfriend’s familiar touching.
“That’s a gift for you.” Baekhyun pointed out.
“But then I want to join you, and joining you naked leads to rub and tugs and that’s a gift for both of us.” Chanyeol winks before closing the distance between their mouths once more. “I’m teasing, I already bought you your gift.”
Baekhyun wraps his legs around Chanyeol’s hips and grins.
“I love you, baby.” He breathed.
And Chanyeol left the detail of his gift unspoken after that, knowing it was too practical to warrant praise. While his logic was sound at the time, in hindsight, he saw Baekhyun’s disappointment coming. His own personal wireless xbox controller would really only benefit one person. But he did buy it with the hope that Baekhyun would use the extra controller to spend more time together…
Chanyeol stares at the pile of cassettes on the kitchen table, sitting next to a used portable cassette player. Though the feeling that this is a colossal waste of time is weighing him down, he pushes past his gut instinct and picks up the tapes. The earliest one is dated in mid summer, 2 years back. That was a terrible time for Chanyeol. Baekhyun left, he lost his job for a few weeks and had to beg to get it back, and thought he might lose the apartment. He had to borrow money from friends just to cover his bills. The beginning of a long dark depression that had no guiding light to push through to. Really, Kim Minseok must be trying to kill him.
The cassette pops in, and the button to play makes a loud archaic sound as it’s pressed in.
The first sound present is the static of silence, no breathing, no movement, only dead air. Chanyeol slouches back in the seat, closing his eyes and almost laughs. If Minseok made him waste money on a cassette player he’ll only use once to listen to blank tapes, he’ll hunt him down and murder him. While the sound of static is strangely comforting, a lull of chaos at the right frequency to soothe him, he still didn’t need a blank tape to tell him he likes peaceful white noise to sleep to.
All at once, there is a soft sound, then shuffling around, and then a soft sniffle.
“What the hell is thi--”
“Hey Chanyeol…”
Chanyeol stops his breathing at the sound of his name. He stops the tape and rewinds it.
“Hey Chanyeol… It’s me, Baekhyun...”
It’s been so very long since he’s heard his name from this voice that for just one delusional moment, he thought that he was imagining it. He could have sworn he remembered the sound of his voice so clearly, but the inflection is ever so slightly off on this. Baekhyun’s voice is like a nightmare, a haunting sound that drives him mad. And now with this new forbidden fruit, he’s fairly certain his life if over. He will carry around the portable cassette player and replay this sound byte forever, because it’s such a very comforting whimper. His heart stops in his chest with the pause following his name and he scrambles through the cassettes on the table, looking at the handwriting, at the dates relating to his life falling apart.
“This is such a weak way to break up with someone… but I can’t think of any other way to tell you that I’m leaving.” Baekhyun says and Chanyeol’s breathing halts and his eyes close.
No. He doesn’t want to hear this. He doesn’t want to relive this pain. He can’t go through this again, but the temptation of the sound of his voice keeps him frozen in place. The fear of losing even one precious sound bite leaves him paranoid he could have missed something.
Where did Kim Minseok get these tapes? Why did Baekhyun leave his breakup tape with Chanyeol’s college friend and not give them directly to Chanyeol?
“No! Let go of me!” Baekhyun thrashed against the man’s hold, twisting his entire body to either side, fighting his boyfriend’s tight grip on his forearms, unafraid they could leave marks in the struggle. “My things are packed! I’m leaving!”
Chanyeol refused to let him go though, shaking him by the shoulders.
“Stop it! You’re not leaving!”
Baekhyun slammed his little fists, small and dainty against Chanyeol’s chest, beating him down with little to no strength behind the soft pounds as he shutters another sob from his open mouth. Tears matte his hair to his cheek and his lips are wet with his running nose, mouth hung open without sound as he desperately tried to break free.
Chanyeol pulls the man in and holds him against his chest, leaning in and kissing the corner of Baekhun’s open mouth.
“Stop it. I’m sorry. You’re not going anywhere. You belong with me. Stop it.” He soothed, keeping calm and cool as he stroked Baekhyun’s frail back, holding him in place with one arm banded across his hips.
Baekhyun’s tears didn’t cease with the kisses across his cheek, wet strokes of Chanyeol’s soft lips coming in against salty skin, dewy with Baekhyun’s feeble resolve to leave. He kissed Chanyeol back, fingers fisting in his lover’s shirt as he pulled himself in to close the space between them.
“Like hell I’m going to let the man I love leave like this...:” Chanyeol whispered against a feverish kiss.
The velvet of Chanyeol’s tongue tangled in hot licks against Baekhyun’s and at once, he was aware that he would not be leaving Chanyeol on this day.
“Like hell…? Like hell, Chanyeol…? Like hell but you can’t even put in the effort to make this work? You’re awful… awful…” Baekhyun whimpered, falling to his knees tangled with Chanyeol.
He held Baekhyun until his tears subsided and they both moved on without speaking of the incident, but for days following, the packed bags remained zipped tight, ready to be carried out the door.
“This is so awkward… talking to a tape recorder… but who are we kidding, I would never be able to say this to your face. I know that you think tapes are obsolete and you’ll probably never get this and you’ll probably never listen to it, but it needs to be said.”
Chanyeol can feel his anger, pitted in his belly, festering with every word, spreading through his chest like brush fire. But turning it off is no option at this point, so bear with it he will. He can’t tell if he’s angry that he loves the sound of the man’s voice so much or angry that he has the tapes of Baekhyun’s voice at all. But either way, he marches on, the tape keeps spinning brown tap away and the words come filtered through with each passing moment, a lullaby of anguish slowly melting him.
“The truth be told, Chanyeol, something had to change. We weren’t happy, no, not really… You must have known that. Are we great friends? Yes. Do we have great sex? ...Yes… Yes, of course we do… but when is that enough? If both parties aren’t happy, it’ll never work and you--you have traded our relationship for scraps at your every whim.” His pretty ex’s voice is soft, sad, and tired. This is not the loud voice of the man he fell for, but the shell of the man who left him. Why is it that when Chanyeol thought of Baekhyun’s absence, he didn’t remember this side of him?
“Why, Chanyeol? Why didn’t you fight for us? Why did you never cave, even once, for us?”
Chanyeol swallows hard, hanging his head, cupped in his hands for support, feeling like he could fall over at any moment.
“I didn’t want to leave things the way that we were, Yeol. I wanted us to be happy… I tried… I tried so hard… I tried to talk to you, I gave you suggestions for how to change, I even let you make a fool of me in front of our friends, our family with every promise I made to them that you’d change this time. I swear… I swear that I tried. I wanted us to work, and I loved you so much… I love you.”
Chanyeol stands up abruptly and hits the stop button. This is torture. Why would Kim Minseok make him do this? Why would he put this on the table, knowing Chanyeol would give in to it? He walks into the kitchen and lights the candle, agitated by the haunting words of the man he could not have. Still… Chanyeol runs his fingers through the fire, moving too fast to be burned, tempting the universe with every brush of his skin through flame.
“Alright, Kim Minseok.” He growls under his breath, walking back to the table and taking a seat.
“You always say that if it isn’t broken, we shouldn’t fix it. But it is broken, Chanyeol. We’re broken beyond repair. And if I’m the only one who sees it, then I’m the only one who can fix it. You probably hate me now… don’t you? It’s better that way I think. Move on from this. Move on and find happiness. I will too…”
Chanyeol’s spidery fingers were coarse against Baekhyun’s thigh as he raked the man’s supple bottom against his bare skin. Bakehyun whimpered, limp as a rag doll under his boyfriend’s harsh movements. Chanyeol lifts his thighs up, docking them over his strong shoulders and pressing his mouth against his knee in a sloppy kiss. The smell of sweat permeated their senses as they shared haggard breaths between lusty whispers of need and want. Chanyeol’s hard velvet cock pushes in once more against the pinkened skin as he applied pressure to the base of Baekhyun’s spine with another hard rock of his length inside of him. Baekhyun’s delicate fingers claw at Chanyeol’s skin as he tears at his boyfriend’s skin with short nails.
“Chanyeol…” He whimpers.
“You, okay, baby?” He replied with a soft touch of his lips to Baekhyun’s knee once more.
“I’m fine, Yeol. Don’t stop. Stretch me again.”
Chanyeol nods his head and leans forward, angling Baekhyun’s peachy ass up at the right angle for him to drive into him.
Baekhyun wipes the sweat from his eyes, hating the sting of salty water blurring his vision, and awes up at the man, pushing into him, his God like physique above him, looking down at him as if he had never seen anything so alluring in his life.
Baekhyun fumbles his touch to his own length, wrapping his fist around the vein wound length and stroking down on it, the foreskin pulls over the glossy pink head, a beaded white pearl blooming from the reddened slit at the tip.
Chanyeol pushed Baekhyun’s hand away, replacing his hand in its place to stroke his lover off. He twisted his wrist ever so slightly as he pulled down too slowly and Baekhyun whined against the movement, begging for more.
“You make the cutest faces when I play with your cock.” Chanyeol moaned, leaning in to smother the man with kisses.
“You’re making it too easy for me.” Baekhyun panted, kissing him back, fingers in the man’s dark hair.
“Don’t stop, Chanyeol.”
“Hell no, you’re making that face I like again. Say my name again, Baekhyun.”
“Ch-Chanyeol…” He moaned bucking his hips into the man’s hard strokes as he sputters translucent white cream around his lover’s hand and abdomen.
“God, it’s hot when you do that.” Chanyeol panted.
Chanyeol adjusted himself, pulling out slightly before pushing back in, twisting his hips with motion. Wild berry lube squeezes out around his swollen cock and trickled down Baekhyun's pale skin. Baekhyun clenched around him, holding the headboard for support as Chanyeol growled his approval under his breath and rides against Baekhyun's tight ass with hard slaps of skin. Lubricant wet sounds keep Baekhyun's mind occupied as he becomes increasingly aware of the situation. Slick sweat, sticky cum and gooey artificially flavored and scented lube are the glue holding their relationship together. Looking up at the man he's in love with cumming, spilling his bitter seed inside of him with his weakened last push. He couldn't give this up. He couldn't give him up.
Chanyeol lowered Baekhyun's thighs from around his shoulders and pulled out, lubrication and cum married pulse from his breathing pink hole the way he liked and he smiled down at the man on his back in his bed.
"Baekhyun, I have to tell you, there's nobody in this world that I want as much as you. I'm so in love with you God dammit..."
“Sometimes being in love isn’t enough. Being happy with a person isn’t enough…” And though he speaks these words, he doesn’t seem sold on them at all.
Baekhyun seems unsure, nervous, scared… If he had these tapes then. If he had listened to them then, and heard the uncertainty there in his trembled tone, would he have been able to save their relationship? Had he heard how hurt Baekhyun was, would he be able to go back and take hold of their quarrelling and push through with a resolution? This is where they left things. An uncertain Baekhyun leaving behind a worthless Chanyeol. This is their legacy. And had he not been blind, he could have remedied this and kept him at his side. Was it arrogance that kept him thinking that Baekhyun would be back? Did he think that Baekhyun would give in and come crawling back at some point or did he know that it was the end and refuse to accept it?
“Please don’t think this is easy for me. Please don’t think that I stopped loving you… Making this tape is really the most selfish thing I’ve ever done in our relationship. This is the most selfish thing I’ve ever done. But I need to tell you these things because these 5 years have been so real for me… Chanyeol, you are the love of my life. Leaving you is the hardest thing I will ever do.”
Chanyeol stops staring at the cassette player and pulls off his hoodie, balling it in a pillow and resting atop it.
“You are the love of my life, Byun Baekhyun.”
“I will never love anyone as much as I loved you, I’m sure of it. But love is not enough… We need to fix this and there is nothing you want to fix. So this is over. Because this can’t go on like this. I have a life to live, you have a life to live, and together we’re a toxic mix. I enable you to stay the way you are and I don’t ever get resolution because I love you too much to force you to change. I’m sorry…”
Chanyeol buries his face in his arm and shakes his head.
“You sick bastard… I could have moved on…”
But the truth is, Chanyeol had plenty of opportunity to move on and he chose not to, because forgetting Baekhyun would be too painful.
Chanyeol rolled over in tune to the siren blare of his alarm to smash his fist to the white digital clock, leg brushing against Baekhyun’s beneath the comforter. He smiles against the bright lights that sneaked through the blinds and breathes in the smell of morning. The smell of blanket and sweat, shampoo and morning breath, a pleasant smell that greeted him daily. This was the smell he loved to be awoken to, a weird fetish he kept secret. His love at his side, he soaks the heat from the other side of the bed in, tracing sheets with his toes over cool fabric until he finds warm cotton.
Baekhyun, still sleeping, shrugs off the advance of his other half but Chanyeol found it endearing and cute. He reaches for the man’s gently arched shoulder and traces the lines with another weak pull of his cheek.
“Not today.” Came Baekhyun’s reply, mouth stuck together with sleep, words mumbled.
But Chanyeol wasn’t trying for sex, he only wanted to touch the man he loves so much. This quiet moment when the man is sleeping at his side, like a daydream, bathed in white morning light. His skin hot to touch and his features relaxed and limp with fading unconsciousness.
He came in with a soft brush on coarse hair, thighs pressing together and nuzzles his nose into Baekhyun’s neck.
“Good morning, B.” He whispered
.
“I said… Not… today.” Baekhyun pushed him away, sitting up and throwing the comforter aside violently.
The alarm went off once more at that moment, a siren ringing, an emergency signal that should have set off lights flashing in Chanyeol’s mind but he was too caught up in how cute Baekhyun looked when he was half asleep and angry. He pushed off the bed, stumbling over his own feet in the baby blue briefs strapped across Chanyeol’s favorite soft cushions.
“I work until 1AM but you still insist on waking me up just so that you can get your rocks off, you’re such an inconsiderate jerk. I cannot stand it when you pull this.” He mumbled as he walked to the bathroom.
“Hey Chanyeol… It’s me, Baekhyun… Listen, You’re selfish, inconsiderate, you never listen to my complaints, you don’t ever help out with the cleaning when I ask, and the surprise cleaning attacks that come out every 3 or 4 weeks is not the same. I clean up daily, and you come in every so often? That’s not fair. And to be perfectly honest, you go too long between bathing. 2 or 3 days will pass and you’ll only then consider taking a bath if you don’t leave the house. Chanyeol. That’s gross. Your ears are too big for your head and you drive like a bat out of hell, I’m glad your transmission died so you can’t drive that death trap…”
Chanyeol sits back in the chair and crosses his arms over his chest with a narrowing of his eyes.
“Jesus, B. Don’t hold back. Tell me how you really feel.” He mumbles to himself, feeling less stupid about talking back to a recorded tape.
“I… I’m sorry… I’m glad you can’t drive that death trap because… I can’t bear the thought that you could be out there dead. I need to know you’re alive and well. I need to know that somewhere out there, you’re alive and okay. I miss you already and I don’t want to think about you out there alone. I want you to move on and find happiness with someone who has the courage to kick your butt in gear.”
Fuzzy static hangs in the air, the distance between them insurmountable. A voice on the other end of the line that has long since changed. A voice on the other end of the line that has long since abandoned him and moved on. And yet, here they both sit, a recording and a man, registering the words just spoken with like minds and heavy hearts.
“I’m sorry.” Baekhyun whispers. “Maybe I didn’t love you enough. I don’t want you to think that this is all your fault. I know it’s not. I’ve been pushing you away. I’m a coward and I’m not good enough for you. I know it. I don’t even have the courage to say these things to you in person. But I love you. Or maybe I used to… But I can’t be with you as you are. I’m not… I’m not good for you.”
The tape fades out to static and then cuts off, leaving an eery new silence in the wake of their static filled silences they shared.
“You can’t be the only one to decide things though. You didn’t have the courage to talk to me, and that may be partially my fault. But you can’t decide single handedly if you’re good enough for me or not. Stop belittling my feelings. I can decide who’s good enough for me. Fuck you, Byun Baekhyun…”
“Where were you?”
Chanyeol raced across the room as Baekhyun stepped across the threshold, nose red from the cold, cheeks flushed, peeking over a tightly wound baby blue scarf. His eyes looked wide and surprised as he met Chanyeol’s nervous energy at the door like a puppy, ready to pounce.
“After 3 years, you still greet me like this?”
“I was worried, Baekhyun. Your phone is turned off.” Chanyeol reached forward and cupped Baekhyun’s face. “Why is your phone turned off?”
Baekhyun stared up at him for a long moment, eyes glistening and pressed his cheek to Chanyeol’s cheek.
“I left my charger at home, so my phone died.” Baekhyun squeezed the man tighter and Chanyeol took that moment to lift him up off the ground with a soft laugh.
“You’re in big trouble, mister. I was worried sick.”
Baekhyun looked up at his tall boyfriend and grinned.
“Punish me, master.”
“Damn right I will. When I get done kissing you and checking you and making sure you’re okay.”
Baekhyun was happy that night, wrapped up in his layers of coats, his hat and his scarf, his fingers less nimble through the thick wool gloves he wore. Chanyeol’s lean body fit against him in a towering length that left Baekhyun’s heart double timed. Chanyeol lifted the bundled man up into his arms and walked him to the bedroom and set him down on the soft cushion of their bed.
“You must be tired from standing all day…” Chanyeol said, pulling away the man’s cap and setting it down, ruffling his hair with adoration touching his tender gaze.
“I love you.” Baekhyun stroked fine black hairs from Chanyeol’s cheek and breathes in a shaky breath.
“How did I meet you?”
“You don’t remember how we met?” Chanyeol sounded almost hurt by the idea but calmed with Baekhyun’s laughter.
“I do, I just… I can’t figure out how I got so lucky.”
Chanyeol collapsed on the bed at his side and they stared up at the ceiling. Chanyeol swiped across the ceiling like a wand and leaned his head into Baekhyun’s.
“Well see, what happened was, the stars looked down and saw that you were good, so they gifted me to you as a show of love…”
Chanyeol holds the stack of cassettes over the trash, black cotton sock covered toes pressing on the pedal, holding the lid open. But rather than looking at the tapes poised to be thrown away, he looks past his hand to the other things he’s thrown away. The emptied bag of bread, a half empty can of tuna, an emptied water bottle. The things in this bag are trash, useless things that he has no feelings for. They are easily discarded. But Baekhyun… Baekhyun is not something that he can so easily throw away. So now he stands in a torn place. He must confront the reality of his two options. He can throw away the items and never see them again or he can put them in Baekhyun’s box. And putting them in Baekhyun’s box would require that he open it up, something he hasn’t done in years… not since he dumped it all in there with the last shred of hope he had that Baekhyun would come back to him.
But maybe it’s time to open it up. Maybe this is the right time.
He lets the garbage lid close and deciding against throwing Baekhyun’s tapes to the trash and makes his way to his closet door. He tosses the labelled cases to the bed and opens the door, looking up at the brown amazon box with the letter “B” scrawled on it hastily with black sharpie. He fists his hands as he stares up at the box, un-fisting slowly and repeating the process as he gathers his courage. He reaches up, getting on his tiptoes, despite his height and knocks the box down so that he can open it up. He sets the box on the edge of the bed and stares at it for a long moment. This could probably be considered detrimental to his health, but it’s an important step he needs to take, and really, well past time for it.
With a long heavy sigh, he grabs his headphones from his side table drawer and plugs them into the portable cassette player. He picks out the second tape recorded by date and places it inside and hits play. Allowing the static to lull him once again, he adjusts the volume and closes his eyes.
“Hey Chanyeol… it’s me Baekhyun....” Chanyeol breathes in and waits patiently for the voice to come back. “I listened to the last tape. It’s kind of a mess, right? I was feeling conflicting things. It’s been a month since I saw you. Truth be told, I thought you were going to come after me. But you didn’t. The first time you decide to listen when I tell you what I want, and you decide to listen when I say I need space and run away. Serves me right, I guess. Hey Chanyeol…”
Chanyeol opens his eyes and looks at the box, swiping a finger along the edge to collect dust.
“I really miss you these days, and the life we had together. I know this is a phase, and I’m not saying I think we should get back together because we’re unhealthy together, but I really miss our life. Waking up to you in the morning, drool crusted white in the corner of your mouth. I miss making breakfast in the kitchen with you hovering behind me, holding my hips nestled against your morning wood. Sorry… maybe that’s too much… but, that’s what I think about most these days. I think about the things that I took for granted, and I know that you took them for granted too. The next time we fall in love, can we make a promise to one another that we won’t take the little things for granted? I want to appreciate it better next time. Savor it better. Really experience the little things as more than passing moments. I know I never fully appreciated your kissing until I kissed someone else.” Chanyeol’s hands ball to white knuckle fists and his breathing comes in deep, quick heaves as he tries not to think about Baekhyun with another person.
“Don’t worry, you big goof. I knew almost instantly that it wouldn’t work. I told him I was sorry and that I don’t want to rush things. I haven’t called him since. It was just one date… not that it matters… we’re broken up, so I don’t know why I’m justifying this like it’s any of your business. Probably because it felt like cheating, even to me. Sorry, Chanyeol. I’m not ready to be over you. But I will be someday. We’ll both be okay. It might take 5 years more of thinking about you before I can look at the sky and not only see you there, smile brighter than the sun.”
Chanyeol reaches for the box and pulls it closer, opening the untaped flaps and peering down inside. There is a hoodie, folded neatly, the way he left it on top of the washing machine, unwashed. Pulling the sweat shirt to his chest, he holds it up and breathes in the musty smell with the linger of cologne, earthy and perfect. This smell that he thought he would forget too easily, brings with it a million memories of smiles, laughter, embraces, and the little man storming past him.
“Why didn’t we ever make up enough to be friends? I bet you want to know that, right? I think it’s because once people love like we did, we can’t go back to being just friends. Because every time I see you take a sip of water, I would watch you with the eyes of a man who knows what you look like naked. That’s why we can’t go back to being friends. Because we complicated things with sex. But it’s okay. Because we complicated things as a result of a natural evolution. I wanted it, and you wanted it. And one day, we looked at one another and we knew that this would be our life. I believe that people are meant to meet and fall in love. I believe that people grow into being the people they are as a product of the people that shape them. You have left an impression on the person I will become and the hardships that I went through dating you will make me a stronger man. Maybe next time, I’ll be able to tell him that I’m afraid we’re ruining our relationship before it’s already too late.”
Chanyeol pulls a cherry candy wrapper and a receipt from the pocket and smiles to himself, unfolding the receipt and looking over the slightly faded black ink.
“Baekhyun, You bought coffee filters and a strawberry ice cream cup at the convenience store.” Chanyeol whispers to himself, smiling wistfully.
“Is this the biggest mistake I’ve ever made? Leaving you? I still can’t tell. Maybe I’d rather be unhappy with you than happy with someone I don’t care for as much…”
Chanyeol replaces the receipt and candy wrapper back in the pocket and folds it back.
“No, Baekhyun… you deserve to find happiness.”
Chanyeol’s mother kissed Baekhyun’s forehead as they parted ways and waved goodbye.
“I love you, son-in-law! Eat well and take good care of my Chanyeol!” She called.
Baekhyun nodded his head and ran over to where Chanyeol is waiting with the umbrella.
“Son-in-law?” Chanyeol asks.
“She proposed for you, I told her I would think about marriage when you stopped being such a pain.”
Chanyeol wrapped his arm around Baekhyun’s shoulder and he grabbed the hand resting at his cheek with a soft whisper of kisses over his knuckles.
“What would we do for a wedding?” Chanyeol asked.
“I would be the bride, because I’m pretty enough for that. You would be the groom, because you’re not as pretty, and together we would walk down the aisle of an airplane, skipping the service and going straight to the honeymoon in Hawaii.”
“Straight to honeymoon, huh? The only straight thing about our relationship.” Chanyeol chuckled and Baekhyun elbowed him.
“I’m serious.”
“5 years into dating and you’re just now springing this on me? If you wanted a ring, you should have told me so. I would have locked you down years ago.”
Baekhyun leaned into the weight around his shoulders, closing his eyes with contentment.
“I’m already locked down. I’m exactly where I want to be when I’m with you.”
“Damn right.” Chanyeol said pulling him in to kiss his forehead.
“Do you think this is as good as it gets?”
Chanyeol made sure that Baekhyun was covered under the umbrella as they walked under the edge of an awning pouring harder.
“Every relationship goes through ups and downs. We’ve certainly gone through our share, but I think that we’re where we’re meant to be. And I’m good where I’m at, with you.”
Baekhyun held Chanyeol’s hand a little tighter but he said nothing more about the topic.
Chanyeol holds the last tape in his hand, all of the contents of the box but one spread around the comforter carefully. No two items untouched and each small reminder of the man he loved left Chanyeol’s chest feeling a little lighter.
“How can I still feel better just touching your things again, Byun Baekhyun? If this was not love, then what could possibly be worth fighting for” The 5th and final tape is dated a year and a half ago previously.
Chanyeol’s phone rings and he pulls the headphones out to answer.
“Jongdae, whats up?”
Jongdae’s immediate laughter leaves Chanyeol rolling his eyes and shaking his head.
“What’s going on? You sound like you’re in a good mood! Did you get laid?”
“No, you idiot. I’m home alone.”
“Ohhhh, I see what you were busy with, naughty boy. Are you holding the phone with that dirty hand?”
“Jongdae, I’m not masturbating. I’m cleaning. Actually, I’m going through Baekhyun’s old things. I thought it was time.”
Jongdae seems taken back with an awkward sounding forced laugh and Chanyeol realizes how strange it must be for others who have known what Chanyeol has been like. For years, he hid in his house, barely leaving. He has become a recluse but now, hearing Baekhyun’s voice, he feels like maybe it’s time for a change. The torture of having his voice in his ears for 6 hours straight has yet to really sink in. Each tape turned over new perspective of his relationship. And Baekhyun isn’t completely wrong. He wasn’t a great boyfriend to him. He didn’t fight for their relationship the way he should have because he thought that Baekhyun would never leave.
“Well I’ll just leave you to your… cleaning of Baekhyun’s shrine…” Jongdae jeers with a chuckle.
“I’m actually cleaning, you pervert.”
“Oh, I’m sure you are. Just remember, surgery for carpal tunnel is expensive.”
“Kim Jongdae!” He hangs up the phone, touching his cheeks and realizing he was embarrassed and smiling.
Baekhyun coming back into his life has brought back light, laughter, friendship… Yes, it was the fact that he hasn’t been able to get closure. The unknowing…
Chanyeol presses play.
“Hey Chanyeol… it’s me, Baekhyun… I said I didn’t want to change you, Chanyeol. I said I was afraid to tell you about things because I was afraid to change you. But I think you changed the day we met. Do you remember when we met? You changed the day you met me, you were always changing for me, and I was evolving and spinning out of control and you were the calming presence that stayed constant, evolving with me. I was wrong to blame things on you. I was wrong to accuse you of not changing. I was the one that should have worked harder. We both should have.”
Chanyeol smiles, reaching into the box and picking out the last object. A framed photo of the two of them. Baekhyun’s smile looks up at him unchanging and unfamiliar. As if he were looking upon a stranger, Baekhyun’s smile looks blissful. He could scarcely remember the last time he smiled like that.
“It’s not your fault either, Baekhyun. I wish I could tell you that.” He breathes, stroking his finger over his thumb. “But I understand why you left without saying goodbye. Because I don’t want to say goodbye either. What did you say…? Some people are meant to meet and fall in love, right?” He replaces the items back into the box one by one and smiles to himself.
“My world revolved around the existence of Park Chanyeol. Every breath was a reflection of how much I cared for you, but that’s not the way it’s supposed to be. Because I was too in love with you that I forgot to see myself. Next time I fall in love… If I could ever love anyone again the way that I loved you… I promise to do it right. I hope that you find happiness and peace. Forever yours, Baekhyun.”
Chanyeol waits for the tape to end and the play button to pop. He stares up into the ceiling light, the artificial light blinding and bright.
“Forever mine, Baekhyun.” He whispers, pulling out his headphones.
He removes the cassette, replaces it in it’s case and closes it. He holds it there long enough to warm the plastic and presses a goodbye kiss to the smooth surface before placing it gently with the other tapes in the box and closing it back up one last time.
The dance music pummeling the beats through the walls in heavy trembling beats shook the ground as the song changed over that night. Park Chanyeol had probably had more beer than he should have but he was feeling good. His friends were out of cigarettes and he didn’t want to be bothered with letting them free bum his last smokes so he snuck away from the popping club scene to have moment outside.
Standing with his back to the street, Chanyeol pinches the brown paper to his lips and flicks the lighter’s red button to sparks.
“Come on…” He mumbles around the cigarette.
The stubborn lighter refuses to torque flames stubbornly for a minute more before finally coming to life under his commanding thumb.
“That’s bad for you, you know.”
Chanyeol looked up at the entrance of the club where a petite man in a black button down is unrolling his shirt sleeves and buttoning them in place at his wrists. He gave the bouncer a high five and walked towards where Chanyeol was standing.
Chanyeol took a slow drag of his cigarette and lowered his lashes with a smirk, starting at the man’s feet and travelling up the length of his narrow but soft figure. Broad shoulders and narrow, rounded hips, looking slight but not frail. He was a walking contradiction, bright smile in all black.
“I know it’s bad for me.”
“You know but you still do it?” The man replied, unfolding the coat off of his forearm and sliding his arms through to expose those thin fingers once more.
“I do a lot of things that are bad for me. I don’t have a reason not to.” Chanyeol said, flicking the brown butt of his cigarette absently to ash.
“You have reasons.”
Chanyeol stepped closer to the man and looked down at him, wondering how a man could have such opposing features, looking both masculine and feminine. His eyes are thin with long dark lashes, his mouth pert, a birthmark faint above his upper lip. Chanyeol had never wanted to kiss a stranger as much as he did in that moment.
“What kind of reasons?”
He smiled up at Chanyeol, knowing and confident.
“What do my reasons matter, I’m a stranger.”
“I’d like to change that.” Chanyeol took another long drag off of his Marlboro red, breathing out the smoke to the side so as not to bother the man.
“Easy there, buddy, I’m only the bar tender. You can save your A game for one of the drunk girls inside.”
Chanyeol nodded, hair loosened where it had stuck to his face with sweat from the crowded interior.
“I’m really more interested in how I can get a kiss from you.”
Baekhyun’s colored cheeks were so unexpected and so very welcome.
“Well, you could start by not tasting like an ashtray.”
Chanyeol looked him over, serious as a heart attack and smirked. He tosses the cigarette aside and stamps it out with the toe of his boot, grabbing the pack of cigarettes from his pocket and tossing it to the trash can.
“Park Chanyeol, I’m your future boyfriend.” Chanyeol extended his hand, feeling suddenly nervous about his surge of confidence.
The man grabbed hold of Chanyeol’s wrists and got to his toes to plant a quick kiss to a stranger’s lips.
“Byun Baekhyun, I’ll be your future heart breaker.”