[exo] honey&lightning - iv

Apr 09, 2014 05:50



Title: Honey&Lightning
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: total ~50k
Pairing: BaekYeol
Genre: hurt/comfort, heavy melodrama
Summary: Lightning never strikes the same place twice.
Warnings: Highlight for full list mentions of past domestic violence, illness, animal death



They reach the station with slightly over twenty minutes to spare. Chanyeol decides to pop by the convenience store to get them some food while Baekhyun scurries off to buy a crossword puzzle book from the shop next door. They are travelling light, just shared amenities and three sets of clothing each, rolled up and stuffed into a large black backpack along with some gifts for his family, picked out and bought by Baekhyun with some help from Chanyeol.

He finds Baekhyun at the counter of the store, book tucked under his arm as he slips the change back in his pocket, smiling politely at the cashier. Baekhyun breaks into a smile when he spots Chanyeol lurking by the door, hurrying over to help him with the bags of food.

The train they are on is thankfully, rather quiet, and they have a table to themselves. Baekhyun, shoos Chanyeol in first so he's seated by the window, before loading their bag into the overhead compartment and sidling up next to him protectively. He laughs when he opens the bag of food to find multiple packets of Chanyeol's favourite blueberry bread, pretending to steal all of it just so he can see Chanyeol pout.

They indulge in light hearted chatter while they eat, talking about Chorong and gossiping about Luhan's tiny bit of progress with Xiumin, who finally agreed to a coffee date after a full year of being badgered by the pixie faced guitarist. Chorong is currently staying over at Kyungsoo and Jongin's place, just until Chanyeol returns to Seoul. Jongin's poodles, Jjangu and Monggu were siblings that Chanyeol had found on the street a few years back. They had briefly stayed with him before Jongin had volunteered to house them, much to Kyungsoo's chagrin, and were friendly dogs with great temperaments. He hopes the company will help brighten his German shepherd's mood.

They fall into a comfortable silence after, as the train leaves the city terrain behind and speeds through the countryside, branches, hills and fields all blurring into stretched lines and patches of colour. Baekhyun is chewing on his bottom lip, pen moving thoughtfully to fill in horizontal and vertical letters. Chanyeol doesn't miss his small satisfied smile each time he completes a puzzle. He lets himself lean against Baekhyun's side and closes his eyes, relaxing to the music that plays quietly through his earphones.

Their fingers stay intertwined throughout the ride.

*

Yura is there to greet them when they exit the station, hand in hand. She pulls them both in for hugs before fawning over Chanyeol fondly, smiling kindly at Baekhyun before ruffling his hair.

"Hmm?" Chanyeol asks when he catches Baekhyun squinting at his sister while she leads them to the car, as if trying to figure something out.

"Your sister looks awfully familiar," he whispers softly.

"Hmm. We do look kind of alike."

Baekhyun laughs and squeezes Chanyeol's arm. "No, not in that way! I feel like I've seen her before? Like on television or something?"

"Oh!" Chanyeol chuckles. "How silly of me. Yura is a newscaster, you've probably seen her on the early morning news. KBS, I think. I’m usually not up in time to see it.”

Baekhyun nods with a silent "ooh" as they slide into the back seats of the car, where Yura's fiancé is waiting in the driver's seat. Baekhyun and Chanyeol both greet him politely and he waves back with a friendly smile, asking them questions about their journey while he revs the engine and pulls out of the lot.

Chanyeol and Yura were both born and raised in Seoul, but their parents are from a different city and province further down south on the east coast, close to the sea. It isn't a small city by any measure, with a major port and enough bustle, large enough for people who wanted to to slip into the small pockets of suburban quiet. Chanyeol's parents had moved back to their hometown according to his mother's wishes, wanting to return to the place where she had grown up, a place of familiarity in the face of her struggle and increasing loss of control over her body.

Baekhyun grips his hand tightly when they pull into the driveway of a small, plain house just on the outskirts of the city centre, and Chanyeol leans over to kiss him quickly, sweet and chaste on the lips. He pulls him aside once they are both out of the car, and Yura gives him a supportive squeeze on the shoulder when she walks past them with her fiancé on the way to the door, leaving it unlocked behind her.

“Baekhyun.” Chanyeol cuts in quickly before Baekhyun has the chance to ask him questions. “Remember I told you my mom is ill?”

Baekhyun nods, biting nervously on his bottom lip, waiting for Chanyeol to continue. Chanyeol takes a deep breath and fills his lungs with air and courage before he speaks, trying not to stumble on the words he forces himself to exhale.

“She has Huntington’s Chorea.”

*

Dinner is a simple affair. The table is already set when Chanyeol walks in with Baekhyun tailing behind him.

“You punk!” his dad exclaims from across the table, coming over to punch him in the shoulder before pulling him into a tight hug. “Don’t even know how to greet your dad, eh” he laughs, ruffling Chanyeol’s hair. “You and Yura should switch hairstyles, honestly.”

“I’m thinking of cutting it short again,” Chanyeol chuckles, trying to imagine Yura’s stylish short bob on his own head. He gives Baekhyun a pointed look, and the shorter one returns his smile. Baekhyun gets dragged over to sit in between Yura and his father, who both pester him non-stop with questions about Chanyeol and Chorong.

“Umma,” he calls out gently to his mom, slipping into the loose grip of her embrace to kiss her on the cheek. “It’s me, Chanyeol.”

She smiles widely at him for a split second before her grin goes lopsided, but the joy in her eyes does not diminish in the slightest. Chanyeol stays still when she tries to reach out and caress his face, struggling to brush his cheek until Chanyeol takes her hand and holds it firmly in place with his.

“My b-baby,” she sighs sadly. “All grown up now. You should visit me more, your - ”

She stutters then, face grimacing as she tries to manoeuvre her tongue around the words. “ - your f-father is such a boring o-old man.”

Chanyeol’s dad pouts at his wife’s jovial criticism, stacking Yura’s plate high with food before he turns his attention to Baekhyun’s plate and repeats the action.

“How are you feeling today Umma? Does anything hurt?” Chanyeol asks, reluctantly pulling away to sit down in the chair next to hers. There are smaller plates filled with steamed or softer versions of the dishes on the table especially for his mom. He picks up three small fishes with his chopsticks and sets them aside on his plate, deftly coaxing the fresh meat off the bones with practiced speed.

Chanyeol feeds his mother a couple of pieces first, then gives her a few small spoonfuls of rice and stew. She's still cheerful as usual, despite her situation, welcoming her children home with warmth and love, looking on fondly at them from afar. Her condition, thankfully, is not advancing as quickly as the doctors had assumed it would, but they were still on edge, and Chanyeol knows somewhere at the back of his mind there's a seed of dread, an awareness that atrophy and dystonia could begin at any moment or escalate unpredictably - it is inevitable, and only in a matter of time.

His father used to own a jazz music cafe back in Seoul, and his mom a simple family restaurant. Chanyeol had grown up in that cafe, watching the musicians who played sets each evening after school in awe, wishing that he could have the same kind of proficiency with his instrument one day. His father retired after they made the decision to move back to their hometown, and is now meticulous and thorough in his care for his wife, staying by her side most hours of the day to assist her and faithfully keep her company. It is a hard task to shoulder by himself, and Chanyeol deeply respects his dad for his dedication and sincerity, often plagued with guilt for not being as present with his family as he thinks he should be.

"Happy," his mother says simply. "That my family is with me. That my children are here, safe."

His mom's diagnosis five years ago had come as a huge surprise to their family. She was in her late forties when her symptoms started to show: huge and sudden changes in moods, twitching in her hands and feet, unconscious shrugging and facial grimaces to name a few. Her parents had passed away in their early thirties during the Korean War - they had not lived long enough to become symptomatic, and probably never knew one of them carried the gene. Chanyeol's mom was just turning fifty when she tested positive.

"Who is that c-cute boy you brought along with you?" she says as quietly as possible. The excited tone in her voice doesn't go unnoticed by Chanyeol. He catches Baekhyun sneaking them a look from across the table. "Boyfriend?" The knowing gleam in her eyes has him squirming in his seat.

"Yes," he nods bashfully, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks. "His name is Baekhyun."

"Aigoo, aigoo, my children," she chuckles, gesturing at Chanyeol to pass her her cup of tea. “Both of you are going to leave me behind once you get married.”

"Umma you know I can't get married. Legally anyway," he laughs sadly, holding the cup to her lips so she can take a sip. "And who says we'll leave you behind?"

“You’ve mellowed out since I last saw you.” She clasps his hands in her own twitching ones and smiles. “Even i-if you still look like a big little punk.”

"You'll be safe with him, my son." She nods her head in Baekhyun's direction, who is chewing determinedly in order to conquer the mountain of food his father had built on his plate, not wanting to be rude or wasteful.

Chanyeol pauses, biting his lip nervously. She rubs soothing circles as best she can on the back of his palm to ease his tense grip.

"Trust me, Chanyeollie, I have an i-impeccable mother’s instinct," she says kindly, before smacking his arm lightly. "Now feed me some kimbap you little brat.”

Chanyeol laughs and gladly obliges.

*

He hangs back in the kitchen to wash up the dishes and pack leftovers with Yura after dinner. Baekhyun had been shown very eagerly to the bathroom by his father, and he can hear the fuzzy sound of the shower just down the hall. His parents are in the living room, sitting together with Yura’s fiancé in front of the television watching a documentary on deep sea creatures.

"Chanyeollie?" Yura looks over at him in concern, slim hands and cloth pausing on the plate she was drying. "You look distracted. Are you alright?”

"I'm worried," he admits, picking up the sponge to soap another plate.

"About Baekhyun?" Yura lowers her voice to a hush, stepping closer to her younger brother to make sure they aren't overheard.

“I never told him about all of this before I brought him here. What if it is too much of a shock?” He nods apprehensively. "I'm scared, noona. I don’t know how he’ll react."

“Honestly? Baekhyun’s taking it really well, in my opinion. Well, he’s much calmer than when my fiancé found out, at least,” Yura whispers back, bumping her brother’s arm. “It kind of feels like he already knew long before today.”

“He definitely sensed something was up.”

"Chanyeol..." she starts, voice trailing off softly as she puts down the bowl she's holding. "I’m thinking of getting tested.”

Chanyeol turns to look at her in surprise and she pauses to let the words sink in.

“Do you want to do it together? I know this may seem sudden but I think my fiancé deserves to know, and I want to know too, so we can think about having a family and children.”

She looks at him hopefully, and Chanyeol knows his answer will only bring disappointment.

"I'm sorry noona," he swallows thickly. "I don't think I'm ready yet. But I'll definitely be there with you when you decide to go for it."

"Don't worry about it Chanyeolie, it's just a suggestion.” His sister pats his shoulder reassuringly. “I’ll be waiting until March before I make my appointment, so if you change your mind before then make sure you let me know okay? Even if it isn’t soon, I still want to be there for you when and if you decide to get tested."

Chanyeol nods quietly. "I'm sorry, noona."

"Don't be," she smiles, nudging his arm again. Chanyeol sighs heavily, frowning as he speaks.

"It's just. You've always wanted children so badly, and there's a chance that you'll have it and that they'll have it, but look at me...in love with another man." He sighs again in frustration and helplessness. "Even if I do end up being positive it won't have that same kind of consequence you know? Baekhyun and I could try adopting if we want kids but I’m not going to be passing on the gene.”

Yura blinks at him in surprise, taken aback by his sudden outburst.

“What if you end up testing positive and I test negative? I would feel so guilty, noona.”

“Hey there, little brother, wait a second,” Yura tuts at him, jabbing his sides with her elbow. “Why are you trying to make decisions for me? You and I were both born with this risk, and I am perfectly capable of dealing with my own life and my own body by myself.”

“I’m sorry noona, I didn’t mean it that way I just - ”

Yura cuts him off with a poke to the cheek. " - You are my baby brother, Chanyeol, and you always will be. I’ve known you since the day you were born, and I’ve seen you grow up into who you are today. The last thing I want for you is to feel guilty over who you love. You should never, ever feel guilty for who you love."

“But noona - ”

“This condition isn’t all doom and gloom you know, Chanyeol?” She sighs. “Sure, it really fucking sucks, and the anxiety really takes a toll on your nerves, and everything is so uncertain but look, haven’t you and I both found people who care about us? People who love us despite it all? People who we cherish and treasure, and want to take care of? Life isn’t just about being able to live, or hoping never to die. You have a very real future with Baekhyun. Don’t ruin it with unnecessary worry and guilt.”

He nods in reply and reaches for the sponge by the sink. He knows his sister is right, but he bites on his lip as they clean the rest of the dishes, hands moving mechanically while thoughts ricochet through his mind.

Courage has always been so much more weary than fear.

*

Baekhyun is waiting for him in the guest room when he returns from his shower, hair damp and tousled with the towel hanging around his neck. He’s doing another crossword puzzle from the book, biting on his thumb while he thinks, as is his habit. He straightens and puts the book and pen aside on the nightstand when Chanyeol sits down tentatively on the corner of the bed, mattress sinking with a whiny creak under his weight.

They do not speak.

The silence weighs heavily both on Chanyeol’s conscience and his heart, and his lips part to form words when he feels Baekhyun shifting behind him, closing the distance between them so he’s leaning gently against Chanyeol’s shoulders and back. Chanyeol tries to turn to look at him when he feels delicate fingers brush against his nape, but Baekhyun keeps his head in place with a gentle nudge and un-loops the towel from around his neck.

"Your hair is still wet," Baekhyun chides, speaking in a bare whisper as he tucks the long strands that have fallen astray behind Chanyeol's ears. He starts towelling and patting Chanyeol's hair dry, picking up locks and rolling out the moisture with his palms. "You'll catch a cold."

"Baek - " his throat catches and Baekhyun stills behind him, wrapping tight arms around Chanyeol's shoulders when he starts to cry. "Baekhyun, I'm so sorry."

Baekhyun I - "

" - It’s alright." Baekhyun nuzzles into the crook of his neck, comforting him as best he can while he shakes, fists clenched tightly on his knees, knuckles white and nails nearly cutting into flesh. "We will be okay."

"Baekhyun," he chokes out as his own hand reaches for the smaller one's left, twining their fingers together before raising the back of Baekhyun's palm to his coarse and chapped lips, kissing the smooth skin, grazing over knuckles and lingering at the void of his missing ring finger. "Baekhyun, I love you. I love you so much, I love you so much more than I can bear, I love you, I love you, I love you I - "

*

He wakes up to Baekhyun cradling him in his arms, clinging desperately to him like a lifeline, his own long limbs entangled with and wrapped around Baekhyun's lighter frame. He feels the chaste press of Baekhyun's lips to his forehead when he begins to stir, eyes still swollen shut and nose stuffy from all the crying. Baekhyun had held him, steady and unwavering even as he had sobbed in frustration and desolate anger, steadfast and patient, gentle when he guided Chanyeol under the covers, curling up beside him after.

"Sweetheart," he whispers hoarsely, throat dry from the night before, and Baekhyun giggles in reply, shimmying down so he can pillow his head comfortably on Chanyeol's arm and bury his face in his shirt. "Thank you."

"Don't hide from me, love," comes his muffled reply, and Chanyeol leans down to kiss his crown, drowned in tenderness and affection when he feels his little lionheart smile into his chest.

They stay that way for a few precious moments more before Baekhyun sits up with a playful twinkle in his eye, using his toes to make ticklish trails by dragging them to and fro on Chanyeol's calves and feet.

"It's still early. I don't think anyone else is up yet," he begins, reaching out to brush away the locks that have fallen across Chanyeol's face. "How about you and I go sneak a bath together? Just the both of us, keeping each other warm. We don’t have a tub back home, and we won't get this chance again. I’ve always wanted to cuddle in a tub.” Baekhyun giggles, flopping onto Chanyeol’s chest with a soft oof as their ribs collide.

"Okay," Chanyeol smiles, letting Baekhyun hoist him up from the bed. Sometime through the night he’d changed back into his usual pyjamas consisting of Chanyeol’s loose, old t-shirt and boxers, and the plum coloured mark on the back of his neck has his heart skipping a beat, a visual reminder that Baekhyun is his to cherish and to protect. His hair is tousled and his eye bags are hanging, dark and heavy under his eyelids, but Chanyeol thinks he couldn’t look more beautiful, here by his side, leading him quietly through the corridors as they tip toe to the bathroom, sneaking each other glances, hand in hand.

*

Baekhyun sits next to his mother at breakfast, talking animatedly with her with kindness in his eyes, helping her however he can with her food, and always making sure to ask Chanyeol's father whenever he is unsure of what to do. Chanyeol watches him with a trembling heart, still afraid that he will react negatively or lose his patience, but Baekhyun is steadfast and understanding, and Chanyeol is reminded of the day he had first wavered, when Baekhyun's sincerity when he was cleaning up after Chorong had broken down the last walls of his defences into crumbling bricks on the ground.

Yura sends them out to buy the ingredients for dinner at the local market, but he knows her intention is to give them some time and space to talk and work things out. Baekhyun has the shopping list tucked in his back pocket, left hand automatically reaching out for Chanyeol's right when they leave the driveway, huddled close together in the cold.

Chanyeol is familiar with the town, having spent a few holidays here with Yura in the past, so Baekhyun lets him lead them around, taking in the sights and sounds as Chanyeol guides him, holding on lightly to the crook of his elbow. They settle down on a bench near the harbour, watching the smoke from sea liners puff into the cloudless sky, little boats and smaller ships huddled together in the spaces in between.

Chanyeol kisses Baekhyun when he's busy admiring the glistening dark blue of the sea. Baekhyun laughs into their kiss, caught by surprise, eyes crinkling at the corners when he parts his lips for Chanyeol and breathes him in, fingers ghosting around jaw lines as they both nudge and coax whimpers out of each other.

Baekhyun is panting when they finally pull apart, the rise and fall of his chest mirroring Chanyeol's own, and Chanyeol leans forward to leave quick pecks on Baekhyun's eyelids before he tugs at Baekhyun's scarf, pulling it aside so he can nibble on the pale flesh of Baekhyun's neck, leaving a fresh red mark between his collarbone and his veins.

Baekhyun flushes red when he touches the mark with his fingers, and Chanyeol stutters, suddenly embarrassed by his reckless gesture.

"Your eye bags are terrible," he starts awkwardly, clumsy words stumbling out of his mouth before he can gather his thoughts to speak. Baekhyun laughs amiably in agreement.

"I was up all night thinking," he mumbles, poking the puffy flesh under his eyes, turning to pout at Chanyeol with his bruised lips. "You better cuddle me like crazy tonight to make up for this."

"I'd cuddle you anyway," Chanyeol replies with a kiss to his nose, and Baekhyun squirms and wiggles away to the other end of the bench.

"We're never going to talk if we keep this up," he chuckles, scooting back over just until their thighs touch. "First off, Chanyeol, I want you to know that I have absolutely no intention of leaving you," Baekhyun says firmly, jabbing Chanyeol in the arm to accentuate his words. His eyes soften when he speaks again. "I love you, Chanyeol, and I want to be with you."

"Baekhyun, it's going to be hard. I don't know what's going to happen or whether or when it will begin. Sometimes I forget if I've locked the door and have to check thrice, sometimes I slip, or trip, or drop something and I can't help but think - is this the start? Is this it?" Chanyeol frowns in worry, staring down at his feet.

"I'm not too familiar with the details of Huntington’s," Baekhyun says softly, moving closer to Chanyeol so he can rest his head on his shoulder. "Can you tell me more?"

Chanyeol nods. "It's a hereditary disease, so since my mom has the gene, there's a fifty fifty chance that I'll have it as well. Heads or tails, like a flip of a coin, and the same goes for Yura. My mom' symptoms started in her mid forties, so chances are, if Yura and I have it, we'll start feeling the effects of the disease around then too. But it's impossible to predict when exactly, and it could just as easily start today, or tomorrow, or next week."

Baekhyun hmms in thought. "Is there a test for it?"

Chanyeol nods, yes. "There is. Yura wants to get tested but I don't think I'm ready yet," he tells Baekhyun honestly. "There's no cure for Huntington's, and once you take the test there really is no turning back. Your whole life is affected by the result, your entire future is at stake."

"You don't have to take the test if you don't want to, Chanyeol," Baekhyun smiles and twines his fingers with the taller's. "I want you to make your own decisions, and I'll be there to support you, whichever choice you make."

"Are you sure Baekhyun? I'm - "

" - yes." Baekhyun replies firmly.

"But Baekhyun you - "

"I'm sure, Chanyeol, I'm sure, unless you don't want - "

"No, I want you, Baekhyun. I definitely want you; don't ever think that I don't."

"Please don't push me away, Chanyeol." Baekhyun pleads, and Chanyeol sighs, turning so he can hug Baekhyun tight. “Please let me be there for you. You know, your family never even blinked at my missing finger," Baekhyun whispers softly into Chanyeol's ear, running soothing hands down back. "None of them gave it a second look, or even asked about it, or thought it odd at all. They accepted it as part of who I am, just like that."

"I guess you could say there’s an affinity between people who are trapped," Baekhyun ponders, smiling sadly into Chanyeol's neck when he feels Chanyeol's arms wrap around him in a safe embrace, letting his eyes fall shut as he breathes in Chanyeol's scent. He lifts his fingers up to comb gently through Chanyeol's long hair until his hand falls away limply when he loses himself to sleep, napping against Chanyeol while the other does his best to keep him warm and support him.

*

New Year’s passes by peacefully and Monday night finds Chanyeol and Baekhyun on the floor of their room, sitting amidst spread out articles of clothing while they fold and pack them back into their shared backpack. Ticket stubs fall out of the pocket of a pair of Chanyeol’s jeans when he turns them upside down to fold. Baekhyun leans across him to pick the slivers of paper up, and the scent of his shampoo lingers in Chanyeol’s nose even as Baekhyun stands and crosses over to the other side of the room, pausing in front of the nightstand.

“Hey, where did you leave your wallet?” Baekhyun asks. “I want to keep these before we lose them.”

“Oh,” Chanyeol looks up. “It’s probably on the kitchen counter.”

Baekhyun sticks his head through the door for a peek before he tiptoes out into the corridor, leaving the door ajar behind him. They had originally packed a set of pyjamas for him to wear on the trip, but Baekhyun had ditched them quickly in favour of sleeping in Chanyeol’s baggy shirts and boxers as per usual. He was oddly shy about being seen in that attire by the rest of Chanyeol’s family, resorting to sneaking around the house at night so he would not be caught in his boyfriend’s underclothing. Chanyeol had asked him once, out of curiosity, about why he liked wearing his clothes so much. Baekhyun had simply replied that it was comforting.

Chanyeol is just about finished with packing when Baekhyun slides back into the room red faced, clutching his leather wallet tightly against his chest.

“Your dad and sister saw me!” He squeaks in embarrassment, flopping face first onto the mattress. “Yura gave me this smug look with a really strange twinkle in her eye,” Baekhyun groans into the fabric, turning to pout at Chanyeol. “What have you been telling her about me?”

“Only your best virtues, of course,” he replies, laughing when Baekhyun rolls over and gestures for Chanyeol to come join him on the bed. “Don’t mind her, Baekhyun, that’s just the way she is. My mom is actually worse. I still remember when Yura brought home her first boyfriend in high school.” Chanyeol grins, chuckling. “The petrified look on his face was priceless. I don’t even remember his name, but I can still remember his expression.”

Baekhyun snuggles into his chest when Chanyeol’s arm loops gently around his waist. “They all love you though, Baekhyun. Umma thinks you’re a little darling, and Yura adores you.”

“That’s nice to know,” Baekhyun sighs into his shirt in relief, nudging Chanyeol for cuddles. “You smell nice.”

“And you smell a lot like me,” Chanyeol chuckles, kissing the tip of his nose as Baekhyun slides his hand past the hem of his shirt to rest lightly on his tummy. “We’ve been sharing everything for months now, though. It’s kind of inevitable.”

“It’s also kind of pathetic that I can’t sleep unless I’m in your clothes,” Baekhyun sighs, blush tinting his cheeks. Chanyeol feels his gaze drift to the mark he had left on Baekhyun’s neck the day before, and he leans down to kiss the soft, tender skin.

“I think it’s really cute,” Chanyeol grins, letting his lips ghost over Baekhyun’s collarbone.

“Can I?,” Baekhyun mumbles, shy as he tugs at the hem of Chanyeol’s shirt. He sits up so Baekhyun can lift the fabric off his body, and then helps Baekhyun with his own, goose bumps forming where callused fingers graze against pale skin. They exchange a glance before Baekhyun shimmies up the bed so his head rests on the pillow, and Chanyeol knows exactly what he needs to do as he moves to hover above Baekhyun’s body.

He kisses him softly, just chapped lips tugging on soft ones, nibbling and pulling. Baekhyun relaxes and smiles when Chanyeol draws his tongue along his jaw before dipping lower onto his neck, sucking on Baekhyun’s skin until a fresh bruise forms just below the bump of his Adam’s apple. He makes his way down Baekhyun’s torso, relighting each fading star in the constellation of pretty marks on his skin, reaching for Baekhyun’s left hand when he’s done so he can leave a love bite on the inside of his wrist. Baekhyun pulls him closer for heated kisses after, tangling fingers into long hair as his legs wrap tightly around Chanyeol’s hips, trying to suppress his moans when he grinds up against Chanyeol needily.

They both pull away from each other quickly when they hear a loud thunk coming from the direction of the kitchen, bursting into silly giggles when the sound of Yura’s voice swearing echoes through the corridor.

“Should we continue?” Chanyeol lowers his voice to a hush, wrapping his arms around Baekhyun’s naked torso when he climbs into his lap. He’s noticed Baekhyun is rather fond of doing that, amongst other things. Baekhyun likes being close.

Baekhyun shakes his head, no, leaning pliant and content against Chanyeol’s shoulder, lips brushing against skin when he speaks. “It feels like we’re high schoolers sneaking around your family, afraid to get caught by your parents.” Baekhyun giggles.

Chanyeol lets Baekhyun fidget around until his eyelids start to droop, then he turns them both onto their sides and tugs the blanket up to their elbows, keeping Baekhyun pressed against him.

“You know, Chanyeol, I used to be so afraid of the cold,” Baekhyun mumbles as he snuggles even closer, making sure every inch of his bare skin is pressed against Chanyeol. “But you’re always so warm. I’ve forgotten all about being scared because you’re always with me, always there to hold my hand.”

Chanyeol reaches for Baekhyun’s hand under the covers and locks their fingers together, kissing Baekhyun’s forehead as his breathing evens out and his eyelids fall shut.

Their fingers are still intertwined when Baekhyun wakes him up with an eager kiss and a smile the following morning, and Baekhyun beaming down at him is all it takes for Chanyeol to know he never, ever wants to let go.

*

January rushes by in a series of hasty blizzards wrecking through Seoul, leaving the tarmac and concrete smothered in chalky piles of ice. An aching chill settles across the city, muffled by the muted white. The stillness is apprehensive and suffocating, too dense and heavy to be called beautiful or tranquil. Chanyeol has always preferred the feverish flurries to the quiet left in each storm’s wake, but he eases his agitation by busying himself with fretting over Baekhyun, who, body left weakened from his previous ordeals, had come down with a particularly bad cold.

Chanyeol spends the days that they are snowed in by Baekhyun’s side, combing through his tousled hair as he watches him sleep through the hours with the medications Yixing had prescribed, making sure his body is bundled up warmly with an abundance of blankets.

“Hnng, and just two weeks ago I said I’d take care of you,” Baekhyun whines, curled up on his side with his head pillowed by Chanyeol’s thigh, cold sweat in little beads on his forehead. “I’m sorry, Chanyeol.”

“Don’t worry about it Baekhyun,” Chanyeol sighs. “I just want you to feel better soon.”

“I’m germy,” Baekhyun pouts sadly with a loud sniff, rolling over in his blanket cocoon. “I can’t kiss you.”

Chanyeol wipes the mucus leaking out of Baekhyun’s nose with a tissue, chuckling when Baekhyun tries to bite his hand.

“I want to kiss you,” Baekhyun whines loudly, wiggling from side to side in frustration.

“You’re gross,” Chanyeol smiles fondly, nudging Baekhyun with his leg so the smaller one will sit up and drink from the mug Chanyeol holds up for him, almost to the brim with warm water. “Ugh, you’re drooling again.”

“At least I get to see you play bass all day,” Baekhyun grins. “My own personal Chanyeol show.”

“Will I ever get to see my own personal Baekhyun show?” he asks in reply, pulling another tissue to wipe at the dribble on Baekhyun’s chin. He looks gaunt and tired, skin pale and pasty.

“You’ve already had your own personal Baekhyun show,” Baekhyun teases with an exaggerated wink. Chanyeol chucks a clean tissue at him, laughing until Baekhyun starts wheezing through a chesty coughing fit, gasping for air as Chanyeol rubs circles on his back.

“A Baekhyun show won’t be enough for me. Not even a Baekhyun concerto. I want a full Baekhyun symphonic suite.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Baekhyun narrows his eyes with a sly grin, twitching his left brow, lips drawn into a smug smirk. He waits for Chanyeol to press a quick peck to his cheek before his features soften and he continues. “I promise I will play for you though, one day. I really want to. Somehow.”

Chanyeol nods, leaning forward to hug his bundled boyfriend tight. He peels the warm fever patch off his forehead and aims it at the bin before lifting the plastic film off a new one from the boxed packet by their bed, brushing aside Baekhyun’s clumped up bangs so he can paste the cold patch on his skin.

“Thanks, Chanyeol,” he sniffles pathetically, wiggling until he’s backed up against the wall, tissue box in his lap while Chanyeol hops off to the restroom to wash his hands.

He picks up his jazz bass after wiping them dry, nudging the switches on the smallest amplifier on. He can feel Baekhyun’s gaze lingering on him as he tunes up and fiddles with the balance knobs.

“Stop staring so hard Baek, you’re making me nervous,” Chanyeol sighs, turning around to face Baekhyun, who grins cheekily.

“Just pretend I’m one of your fans at a show,”

“They’re all there for Kris and Luhan, Baekhyun.”

“Are you kidding me Chanyeol? Even from the bar that day I could hear people screaming for you,” Baekhyun laughs, pinching his nose to imitate a high pitched voice. “Chanyeol oppa! Kyah! Oppa!”

“The only person I need to hear screaming my name is you,” Chanyeol chuckles smugly, only to have the tissue box chucked at his head with a mortified screech.

*

Rehearsals go smoothly, and soon performance day is upon them. Chanyeol spends the entire morning at work distracted, running over bass lines on repeat in his head, tapping out rhythms with his spanner and wrench whenever he’s idle. Kris and Kyungsoo have been behaving oddly throughout practice and rehearsals that week, and Chanyeol can’t quite pinpoint why. They were tense around him, and on multiple occasions he had felt like they were about to ask him something, but they never did, instead they just shot each other sideways glances and furrowed their eyebrows, speaking in hushed whispers. He asks Jongdae if he knows what is going on, but the vocalist doesn’t have a clue either.

Baekhyun recovered from his cold just a couple of days ago and is now back being his usual bubbly, barely manageable self, much to Chanyeol’s delight. He really hated seeing Baekhyun in pain. Despite his cheerful and talkative bravado whenever he was awake, Chanyeol found himself stirring every other night to the sound of Baekhyun’s tired whimpers. Yixing had warned him about it in the beginning - that Baekhyun’s body is much weaker than it was before, and that he may be physically healed but the aftereffects of his previous abuse will last for years. His fever and other symptoms stopped just over five days ago, but his cough is still persisting, and Chanyeol makes a mental note to make sure Baekhyun is warmly clothed when they head out later at night.

Baekhyun welcomes him home with a smile when he shuffles through the door, waving at him from the floor where he is seated with Chorong in her dog bed by his side. Something sparkles where the light hits Baekhyun’s moving hand, and Chanyeol moves closer to get a better look.

“Oh my god,” he deadpans in shock at the sight in front of him. Baekhyun and Chorong are both covered in speckles of golden glitter dust, every fidget and gesture making them shimmer in the light. “What are you doing?”

Baekhyun just grins back at him, pearly whites bared in an over enthusiastic smile.

“Are you trying to decorate our dog?” Chanyeol asks hesitantly, unsure of how to respond.

“No, silly.” Baekhyun holds up a signboard, turning it upright so Chanyeol can read the words. The board is made of hard card wrapped in black paper, and Chanyeol’s name pops out in embossed words carved from recycled styrofoam, drowned with golden glitter and glue. Two little red hearts stand guard by each side of his name. “I made you a support sign for the concert!”

“Oh my god,” Chanyeol blinks.

“You don’t like it?” Baekhyun pouts sadly, chewing on his lip as he sweeps aside the remnants and extra bits of cardboard and styrofoam on the table. Chorong sits up in her bed, glaring at Chanyeol, teeth bared and growling. “I won’t bring it along then…”

“Wait, Baek,” Chanyeol scrambles forward and nicks the signboard from out of Baekhyun’s grip. “I like it. I’m just a little overwhelmed.”

“Why? Don’t fans of the band do this?” Baekhyun frowns. “I’m pretty sure I saw some the last time we were at Exo!”

“I’ve never gotten my own signboard before,” Chanyeol blushes, hiding behind the borderline offensive object.

“Really?” Baekhyun beams eagerly, crawling towards Chanyeol. Chorong stops growling at the sight of Baekhyun’s smile, and Chanyeol lets out a quiet sigh of relief, shooting his dog a pointed look. Traitor, he mouths at her. Chorong merely turns her head away, displacing more glitter. “Don’t lie to me!”

“Honestly, Baekhyun.” Chanyeol is telling the truth. Sure, there are some more zealous fans amongst the small number of supporters of Wolf, but they tend to be Luhan or Kris fans. He remembers Jongdae’s tears of joy the first time a cute college girl had squeezed through the gaps in the crowd to the front, holding a placard with Jongdae’s name built out of LED lights. That was a couple of months ago, and that girl still comes for all their shows, standing near the stage with Jongdae’s name held proudly in her hands.

“But why not? You’re not any less good looking than the rest,” Baekhyun huffs. Chanyeol chuckles fondly and gathers his boyfriend into his lap, trying not to think about how shiny his arms are going to be.

“Nobody likes the scary bassist with the big ears, long hair and multiple piercings,” Chanyeol sighs.

“Well, they’re missing out,” Baekhyun smirks and kisses him on the nose. “I’ll just love him more to make up for it.”

*

“You. Come with me,” Kyungsoo orders, yanking Chanyeol away by the arm before he’s even fully through the doors of the venue, leaving a very confused Baekhyun with his bass behind by the double doors. He tries to pull away when he sees a glimmer of panic flash across his face, but then Jongin comes jogging across the empty hall towards Baekhyun with Monggu, his tawny, curly fur poodle in his arms, and the look of delight that lights up his features as he fawns over the dog is reassurance enough. Kyungsoo drags him rather violently up the stairs into his apartment and shoves him into the seat of his and Jongin’s couch with a pointed glare.

“Ow,” Chanyeol winces as he rubs his arm. Kyungsoo is smaller in stature, but he is stronger than his looks belie. Chanyeol is used to being pushed around by him on occasion.

“You bastard,” Kyungsoo spits out, angry. “You’ve been back for a month, why haven’t you said anything about Baekhyun?” He sits down across from Chanyeol on another chair, tight lipped with his hands folded across his chest. “We were so fucking worried about you but then you just waltz in with your little puppy in tow like nothing ever happened. What is going on, Chanyeol? I assume things went well at your parents’ since he’s still trailing after you.”

“Stop it Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol bites back, defensive. “Don’t treat him like a dog.”

“You’re the one who needs to stop treating him like a pet!” The shorter male glares, sighing exasperatedly, continuing his rant. “He’s obviously serious about you, and he sure as hell loves you if he hasn’t bailed on you - ”

“ - Yet,” Chanyeol mumbles, just soft enough for Kyungsoo to hear through his tirade. “Yet,” he repeats, quieter.

“Is that what this is about?” Chanyeol bites his lip and looks away, afraid to meet Kyungsoo’s furious gaze. “You’re afraid of him leaving you. This is ridiculous, have you no faith in Baekhyun at all, do you even lo - ,”

“I love him! I really do Kyungsoo,” he cuts in, sighing heavily. He looks up at Kyungsoo, who’s seething in his seat. “I love him so much I don’t know what to do with myself, Soo. I love him, more than I imagined I could ever love at all.”

“Then why are you being like this?”

“It’s not fair to him,” Chanyeol mumbles, looking down at his shoes. “It’s not fair that he has to end up with someone like me.”

“Not fair? Someone like you? Who are you to decide what is fair for him?” The tension in Kyungsoo’s voice is almost palpable and cuts through the air between them like a knife. “Don’t kid yourself Chanyeol, you and Baekhyun could have a great future together. Stop fucking up your chances with self pity.”

Chanyeol opens his mouth to retort, but words leave him defenceless. He knows Kyungsoo is right.

“If you keep this up sooner or later Baekhyun is going to notice, and I won’t blame him if he decides to leave you then,” Kyungsoo sighs, rubbing his temples with his thumbs. “Fight for him, Chanyeol. Cherish him.”

He swallows thickly, still unable to meet his friend’s eyes, wishing there is some way to steel his cowardly heart. Kyungsoo slams the door behind him as he exits, leaving Chanyeol alone with his thoughts in the silence.

“Stop being so afraid.”

*

Kyungsoo avoids him for the rest of the night, and in turn Chanyeol evades Baekhyun as best he can until their performance is over. His mind is a mess throughout their final sound check and Jongdae kicks him hard in the shins to get him to concentrate. He can feel the bruise throb on his leg even now, hours later, but the pain had helped him take his mind off his fight with Kyungsoo and focus.

Baekhyun had, as promised, stood amongst the crowd with his eye-catching sign board held in his hands, despite the curious glances from the people around him. Chanyeol had smiled at him once or twice in appreciation, but he had tried not to look at Baekhyun for the most part, knowing he’d be distracted if he did.

Chanyeol lingers backstage even after their equipment is packed and the other band members have cleared out: Luhan chatting with Xiumin near the soundboard, Jongdae hurrying home to work on his thesis paper, and Kris leaving hand in hand with Yixing, who had also come to watch their show. The performance had gone better than Chanyeol had expected, with a big turnout and the live house almost full.

He sighs as he checks around the room for the fifth time to make sure nothing has been left behind, trying to delay having to see Baekhyun, not knowing how he should act or behave with him. He’s just about to pick up his bass and leave when someone knocks on the door and opens it a crack. Familiar brown eyes blink at him through the gap before Baekhyun stumbles in, eyebrows furrowed in worry. He sets aside the signboard when his eyes meet Chanyeol’s.

“You’re really pale,” Baekhyun raises his hands to caress his cheek, voice laden with concern. His palms are soft but cold against Chanyeol’s skin. “Are you alright? I hope I didn’t pass you my cold.” Chanyeol shakes his head, not wanting Baekhyun to worry.

The smaller man presses the back of his palm to Chanyeol’s forehead and then his own, checking for a fever and sighing in relief when he finds Chanyeol’s temperature normal. Baekhyun tries to lean forward for a hug, but guilt courses through Chanyeol’s body and he takes a hesitant step backwards, away from his embrace. He fumbles when he glimpses a brief moment of hurt and confusion in Baekhyun’s eyes and regrets his actions immediately, reaching for Baekhyun’s hands and holding them with both of his own, trying to warm his icy fingers.

“I’m sweaty and gross,” he tries to laugh it off, and Baekhyun gives him an odd look before he frowns and squeezes his hand.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asks, eyes full of concern.

"I just - ," Chanyeol sighs, tired. " - I just want to go home with you."

Baekhyun nods, and Chanyeol follows quietly as Baekhyun leads him out into the cold.

*

Things had been tense between them the night before, and sometime between dusk and dawn Chanyeol decides to stamp down on the thoughts plaguing him for the time being, just wanting things to return to the way they were before. Baekhyun is curled into his side when he wakes up just a little past noon even though they had fallen asleep turned away from each other just hours before.

Chanyeol sits up to nudge Baekhyun awake, apologetic eyes trained on his face as he stirs, pouting. He leans forward to kiss droopy eyelids as they blink sleepily. Baekhyun mumbles something about the cold and pulls him closer by his shirt, tangling their legs together under covers for warmth.

“I was having a really nice dream,” Baekhyun whispers into the pocket of space between them. Chanyeol watches his pretty lashes flutter as he breathes, leaning forward to kiss him chastely on the lips.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he apologises quietly. Baekhyun shakes his head, their noses brushing against each other. “Tell me about your dream?”

“It’s really simple,” he laughs wistfully, closing his eyes as he re-imagines his dream. “I’m not sure if it’s a conjured memory or an actual dream, but I was having dinner with my family at home. My mom was smiling, and my brother was nervous and decked out in a suit, and my dad was laughing as he tried to sneak the fish he didn’t want to eat onto my plate.

“I was just about to take a bite when I woke up,” Baekhyun giggles, pretending to nip off the tip of Chanyeol’s nose with his teeth. He’s smiling but Chanyeol can see the slight wetness gathering in the corners of his eyes, and he slips his hand under Baekhyun’s shirt to draw comforting patterns on his back.

“I miss them,” Baekhyun whispers softly, voice cracking. “I wonder if they miss me too.”

*

They stay in bed just talking in between moments of dozing off, comfortable in each other’s arms, not wanting to disturb the still and quiet in their room, hushed and peaceful despite growling tummies and bodies demanding to be fed. Chanyeol sits up when Chorong lets out a loud bark from her corner by the heater, whining loudly when he shrugs off the blankets and hops over quickly to where she is to see what is wrong.

Baekhyun follows behind him quickly, hand on Chanyeol’s shoulder as he kneels down next to him. His other hand reaches out to stroke Chorong’s fur and scratch behind her ears, and he talks to her in a calming voice to get her to settle down enough for Chanyeol to peel off the blankets around her.

“Oh,” Baekhyun says when he sees the liquid gathered at the bottom of her dog bed, and realisation clicks in Chanyeol’s head when the smell reaches his nose. Chorong had wet herself again. After the first time, she would usually bark whenever she needed to go, and either Baekhyun or Chanyeol would help her, but she seemed to be losing even more control recently. Chorong had lost her appetite despite Chanyeol trying to feed her only her favourite things, and she barely touches the water in her bowl, refusing to drink.

“Chanyeol?” Baekhyun says gently, touching his arm to get his attention. “I’ll clean her up okay? Why don’t you go out and get us something to eat? I’ll call a taxi and we can bring her to the vet after.”

He nods and watches helplessly as Baekhyun picks her up, not minding the urine that drips onto his hands and soaks through the cotton of his shirt, still patting her comfortingly even as he carries her to their bathroom.

“You’ll be okay, Chorongie!” he chirps as he kisses her between the eyes. “I know you don’t like it, but Oppa has to shower you alright?” She whines loudly when he turns on the water and detaches the shower head, waiting until the water runs warm before he starts to shampoo her fur.

“Hey, don’t be like this to me,” he pouts, and she licks his cheek fondly.

Chanyeol gathers the soiled blankets and puts them in their washer. He washes his hands in the kitchen, still in a daze as he stumbles back to their room to change into something more suitable for the weather outside. He can hear Baekhyun singing one of his favourite ballads to Chorong as he washes her, and he pulls on some pants and one of his hooded sweaters, toeing socks off the floor. He slips out of the room and almost trips on flat ground, still busy berating himself for not realising his dog’s condition had deteriorated.

Taking his bike does not seem like a great idea at this point, so he decides to walk instead, hoping the cold air will help clear his head. It’s icy cold, but Seoul has not had snow in the past week or so. Still, the temperature stays just above freezing, with chilly gusts of wind swirling through streets and alleyways on occasion.

He tries not to worry about Chorong as he brisk walks to the nearest market, knowing that she is safe in Baekhyun’s hands. Chanyeol buys them a few rolls of kimbap and a serving of rice cakes from one of the stands, leaving the spare change with the surprised ahjumma when he hurries off to the convenience store to get Baekhyun a bottle of his favourite iced tea.

Chanyeol does a double take when he walks past an inconspicuous, black and white poster stuck to the glass window with masking tape. He halts and peers at the paper, swallowing nervously at what he sees. There’s a photograph of Baekhyun in black and white under large print that types out ‘Missing’. Baekhyun’s appearance in the photograph is almost unfamiliar to Chanyeol: he looked to be just out of high school, in a uniform with rectangular glasses perched on his nose and a bowl cut framing his face, but the curve of the lips he’s kissed a hundred times remains the same, and the little mole by the corner of his mouth confirms Chanyeol’s suspicions.

Chanyeol takes a deep breath and tries to calm his racing heart when he steps closer to get a better look at the text under the photograph. Baekhyun’s full name is listed there under a general description of his appearance and where he was last seen, along with an extra note that mentions how it has been about seven years since the photograph was taken. The text also lists Byun Baekbeom as the person to contact if Baekhyun was sighted, with his number printed on detachable tabs at the bottom of the flyer.

His mind spins into a jumble of thoughts as he thinks up all sorts of scenarios of Baekhyun leaving him, holding on desperately to memories of the man he knows and loves, back home, waiting for his return. Chanyeol considers taking down the entire flyer, fingers already starting to peel at the corners of the tape, but guilt sinks into his chest more heavily each time he peers up at the eyes staring down at him from the photograph - the eyes he’s learnt to read, the eyes that look upon him with nothing but faith and love, and he can’t find the will in him to remove the flyer.

Instead he pulls on one of the tabs with Baekbeom’s phone number and slips it into the back pocket of his jeans, hurrying home with anxiety settling like a smog over his thoughts and tongues of smoke curling in his lungs.

part: v/vi

honeylightning!, p: baekyeol, t: oneshot

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