here’s a stethoscope! listen to your heart [2/2]
Two
By the time everyone’s cleaned up and dispersing, Baekhyun’s ready to flee. He’s always dictated his life with a fight-or-flight outlook and right now, all he really wants to do is hide. There are a lot of things running through his mind right now. The thoughts he can comprehend are barely organized among the other hapless thoughts plaguing his subconscious.
He can remember every second of that surgery from the start to the finish. He can remember Joonmyun’s pitying look when Baekhyun couldn’t even announce the time of death himself. He can remember Lu Han’s frown. He can remember the haze in Kyungsoo’s eyes. He can remember-
He can remember everything, but what he remembers most is an hour spent days before the surgery, seated at the end of that same old man’s bed.
“My whole family’s filled with doctors and surgeons alike,” the old man had told him, “but it doesn’t take a medical degree for me to know that we people-we aren’t invincible.”
The old man had a calming voice. Baekhyun wonders what the world will do without it.
÷
Baekhyun feels small, hiding in one of the vacant hospital rooms to crouch by the bed on the overly sterile floors. He feels small and stupid and foolish and naïve, but most of all, he feels utterly shattered inside and out. And this isn’t his first patient death-he knows that and everyone else does too, but there’s something about a patient dying in a surgery that’s half your responsibility that makes everything hurt a little more. He’s filled with thoughts of inferiority and guilt, nasty little voices whispering things like you could have saved him, his poor family, and why didn’t you do anything? to his already crumbling psyche.
“I don’t know who the fuck told you it was okay to hide from your problems, but damn them for instilling bad morals in you from the start, Byun Baekhyun.” Kyungsoo’s standing in the doorway, fond smile on his face despite how damaged his skin’s gotten from lack of sleep. “Jesus, are you still five years old and bawling over how Jung Soojung called you a fairy or what?”
“Fuck off,” Baekhyun shoots back, no malicious intent in his tone as he rests his cheek against his knees and peers up, mildly amused, at Kyungsoo. “If you’re here to cart me out into the medical world again where Dr. Shim will yell at me for being stupid and Lu Han will laugh in my face and gloat about how I made a fool of myself in front of, not just everyone, but especially Joonmyun, you’re shit out of luck.”
Kyungsoo snorts. “I come bearing peace offerings in the form of banana milk cartons. I’m here to be a good best friend and play listening ear so you can tell me that the reason you’re moping isn’t about the dumb things you just told me.” He pushes himself off of the doorway and walks into the room, kicking the door behind him closed and taking a seat next to Baekhyun on the ground. He hands him a carton of the banana milk-Kyungsoo always keeps his promises. “You’re such an idiot, geez. Who in their right mind would bitch at you about something like that? You didn’t kill him, Baekhyun. He died, but no one killed him. Everyone knows that.”
Baekhyun stifles a small sigh, toying with the plastic covering the straw. “It was going so well,” he complains with a wistful smile. “I made the first cut even though I thought I was going to faint or throw up and everything was going so well but then-his heart rate… and… God, it was terrifying. I didn’t know what to do and Dr. Shim was yelling instructions and shit, it was horrible. Standing there when I realized he’d died and not being able to say a word. This is what I signed up for? I’m going to be haunted by the fact that I told this man when he was alive that I’d make sure he’d be home for Christmas for the rest of my life.” He runs a hand through already tousled hair, frustration evident in the way his fingers grip tiny strands as though trying to shake some semblance of sense into his skull.
“C’mon, Baekhyun. You didn’t go through med school just to have second doubts.” And for a second, Kyungsoo sounds like appa, calling about exam scores and practicals and making sure his son’s on top of his stuff in classes and do you know where you want to work do you want me to look around. “There isn’t another guy or girl in this whole entire hospital that deserves to be here any more than you do. Okay, maybe you’re going through a rough patch or whatever. Yeah, I mean, being the guy in the white coat isn’t all that great. I can’t cure myself or anyone else magically like I thought I would. Like-this stethoscope? Not a magical knick-knack capable of healing tendencies like I thought it was all throughout med school.”
“Are you fucking with me right now, Do Kyungsoo?”
“Kinda. Is it making you laugh?”
Baekhyun shoves at Kyungsoo’s shoulder.
“Not the point though. What I’m saying is you’re not giving yourself half the credit you deserve, Baekhyun.” Kyungsoo’s voice is uncharacteristically steeled. “You’re pretty amazing, you know that? I talked to Dr. Shim after the surgery and he told me himself. The way you handled the declining heart rate was the most control anyone’s seen in an intern out of this batch. Give yourself some credit. You’re not the same old kid who bawled his eyes out after his first patient death two months ago.”
There’s a smile on Baekhyun’s face now and he guesses it’s no surprise; Kyungsoo’s always had a knack for pulling him out of his worst slumps, after all. He’s pretty positive getting past med school would have been impossible without Kyungsoo.
“And y’know what? Don’t even let Lu Han get you down either. Lu Han’s uh, pretty? I guess? But I mean, whatever. You’re pretty too. I remember that one time you wore a dress after you got hammered at Chanyeol’s 20th and I dunno, you could have passed for a pretty girl if I took another couple tequila shots. Joonmyun’s blind and too sober if he can’t see that!”
“Damn it, Kyungsoo. You were doing so well.”
“Shut up and drink your banana milk. I am the best friend you’ve ever had.”
÷
It’s a couple of days later that Baekhyun finally manages to hold his chin up high around the building. He’s already talked with Dr. Shim, having received the superior’s assurances that nothing in the surgery was Baekhyun’s fault in the slightest. He’s already told Jongdae all of his problems and he’s already given himself one hundred pep talks. When he walks into the building bright and early, fumbling with his jacket pocket for a pager he’s positive he remembered to bring, the first person he bumps into is Joonmyun.
The look on Baekhyun’s face is restrained. A silence lingers between them before Joonmyun smiles amicably. "Hey, Baekhyun, you did really great in the surgery.” Joonmyun’s tone is genuine and he claps a hand on Baekhyun’s shoulder, squeezing it once before making his way past. “Let’s get lunch sometime.”
And when Joonmyun’s footsteps have faded into nothing, Baekhyun waits. He waits patiently for the trepidation that’s supposed to fill every inch of his arteries and veins. He waits patiently for his heartbeat to quicken, for blood to rush to his face because Kim Joonmyun just talked to him, complimented him, asked him out.
But nothing happens. His stomach grumbles petulantly, but that’s it.
“Hey,” another voice calls out, and Baekhyun has no time to muse about the irony of timing before he’s turning around and facing Lu Han.
“Huh?”
Lu Han fidgets, expression appearing extremely uncomfortable. He looks away, at the ground, and then back at Baekhyun for a couple of seconds before looking away again. A soft sigh slips past Lu Han’s lips as he locks eyes with Baekhyun once more. “You did a really good job,” he murmurs. This is Lu Han, the boy Baekhyun wished he could be back at Yonsei. This is Lu Han, with all of his brain power and charm. This is Lu Han, who Baekhyun was positive would never, ever look upon Baekhyun with anything beyond a modicum, a tiny sliver, of recognition.
“Thank you?” Baekhyun finds himself saying out loud, and he doesn’t even realize he’s smiling until Lu Han smiles back and then frowns childishly two seconds after.
“This doesn’t mean we’re friends,” Lu Han corrects. “I won’t forgive you for beating me on exams that one time. I don’t like being second place, Byun Baekhyun.” The frown on Lu Han’s lips fades into a fleeting smile before he turns and walks away too.
Baekhyun’s standing in the middle of the quiet hallway, fingers clasped, finally, around a pager that’s almost out of battery. The head of a mop bumps into his shoes and Baekhyun peers up curiously, finding himself staring right at the janitor, Mister Wu. Mister Wu grunts, continuing to prod at Baekhyun’s shoe with his mop. “Move your foot. Bigshot surgeons got dirt on their soles too, alright.”
He sidesteps a little bit, mumbling a sheepish apology while trying to hold back another bright smile. Today’s been unknowingly kind to him and he can’t quite figure out what the catch is just yet.
By the time he’s wandered to one of the front desks, leaning across to wave to Jongdae cheerfully, he notices what’s missing so far. “Hey, where’s Kyungsoo?” There’s been a lack of a familiar presence.
Jongdae looks up from the magazine he’s glossing through. He raises a brow, as though regarding the question as trivial. “What do you mean? He’s at a funeral.”
“A funeral? For who?”
“Oh dear. You mean he didn’t tell you?” The look on Jongdae’s face is suddenly conflicted. There’s a myriad of emotions flickering across his face before he resigns a bit, frowning at Baekhyun. “Sweetie, Kyungsoo’s grandfather died.”
Baekhyun blinks. “What?” He doesn’t know Kyungsoo’s grandfather. He knows Kyungsoo’s mother, father, and older brother, but that’s it. There were never any extended mentions of family beyond that. But a death in the family is a death in the family; there’s no way to lessen the blow and he’s confused. Why wouldn’t Kyungsoo tell him something as important as that?
“Baby, Kyungsoo’s grandfather died in surgery. Weren’t you there? Dr. Shim had residents take part in it, I’m pretty sure…”
÷
Hey, this is Kyungsoo. I’m not here right now because I have better things to do than deal with you. Leave a message at the beep or don’t. I don’t care either way-shut up, Baekhyun-bye.
“Hey, Kyungsoo? Can you pick up? Please?”
“SERIOUSLY, PICK UP.”
“Really? Come on! You can’t be busy right now!”
“Kyungsoo, please. Call me back, okay? I don’t know why you didn’t tell me-you should have told me. Maybe I should have known, but you should have told me. God, okay. Whatever. Just call me back, please.”
“… hey. It’s me. Again. You’re a fucking idiot and I hate you. Call me back or I’m never talking to you again.”
“Kyungsoo?”
“… Kyungsoo, come on.”
This number’s voicemail is full!
÷
“Baekhyun, you look like a dejected puppy.” Chanyeol’s voice is distinguishable as always even when the chatter in the hospital is at its maximum. It’s almost Christmas and there are families visiting patients every hour of every day. December’s always like that. “This isn’t about the order, right? I swear to God, I returned every single one of them and got a refund and everything.”
Baekhyun glowers.
“… okay, so that’s not it then. C’mon, tell your best friend what’s wrong. We fucking live together but I never see you anymore. Are you avoiding me? Wait, don’t tell me! You’re in love with me, aren’t you? God damn, these looks really are screwing me over.”
Baekhyun punches Chanyeol’s arm.
“Alright! So that’s not it either. Can you stop pouting then? You look like you just saw Joonmyun make out with Lu Han or something.” Chanyeol eyes Baekhyun, and blinks when he doesn’t get a reaction. “Huh. A lot’s changed, yeah?”
“What?”
“Hm? Nothing, nothing~ But hey, I’m not kidding. You look like a dejected puppy and I don’t think Kyungsoo’s going to think that’s a good look on you. No one’s gonna adopt you, Byun Baekhyun! No one wants to potty train you, Byun Baekhyun! Be a grown up dog like the rest of us, sheesh!”
There are people in the hallway staring at them and Baekhyun covers his face with his hands. “I don’t even know what you’re saying anymore but I hate you.”
Chanyeol grins, swinging an arm around Baekhyun’s shoulders. “You hate how much you love me. It’s a sin, I think, being this good-looking and this charming.” He pinches Baekhyun’s cheek. “But I’m serious. Stop frowning, man, you’re going to get wrinkles and ain’t nobody going to take you out and wine and dine you if you look like an old man.”
Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “I’m not really looking to impress you but thanks for the advice.”
“It’s cool, Baekhyun. I don’t think you have to impress anyone anymore,” Chanyeol comments cheerfully, patting Baekhyun’s cheek before unlatching himself and sauntering off.
Chanyeol’s words don’t make any sense to Baekhyun. He isn’t sure what just happened, either, but he brushes invisible dust off of his shoulders and returns to his attempt at people-watching.
÷
When Kyungsoo comes back, the first thing Baekhyun does is literally throw himself into Kyungsoo’s arms. This isn’t a weird thing because of how close they are, and Kyungsoo’s much too comfortable to do anything but threaten to drop Baekhyun while simultaneously securing a firm grip around his waist anyways.
“You’re crazy,” Kyungsoo mutters, “so I can’t drop you or you might lose more brain cells.”
Baekhyun repositions himself, regaining composure. He clears his throat before punching Kyungsoo on the arm as hard as possible because, “you fucking ASSHOLE. Why don’t you ever pick up your phone? Why don’t you ever tell me the important shit?!” And this, this is what’s been on Baekhyun’s mind for far too long now.
They’re in one of the back stairwells, secluded and reserved for hospital personnel. Kyungsoo doesn’t have the decency to look the slightest bit guilty. Instead, he rubs forlornly at his aching arm, shooting Baekhyun a reproachful look.
“I was busy with mourning family. And what do you mean? What important shit?”
Baekhyun pauses, fingers curling and uncurling slowly. He takes a deep breath, gaze wandering from Kyungsoo’s face to the view outside the window of the stairwell. “Why didn’t you tell me it was your grandfather?” He kicks at the ground like a small child, expression fading from previous ease into something far tenser.
Kyungsoo doesn’t reply immediately. Instead, he drops his hand back to his side and leans against the wall. His hands make their way into his pockets. “Why would I?” The question, as simple as it seems, is incredibly startling. "It's not anything I wanted people to know. Didn’t want anyone to treat the surgery any differently than they would have for any other old man. My grandpa agreed with me.”
“Kyungsoo-”
“Hey, you know I think Chanyeol’s got the hots for Jongdae these days. It’s like young love’s everywhere, huh. People must be looking actively for it.”
“Don’t change the subject-”
“Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo cuts in, suddenly looking exasperated and tired. The black bags beneath his eyes are heavier than before and there’s a sickliness to how pale Kyungsoo is today. “The little things make you psych yourself out. Just drop it. You don’t need to know the answer to that question.” Before Baekhyun can say anything, Kyungsoo pushes himself up off of the wall and turns, prepared to head up the stairs.
“But…” Baekhyun mumbles, trailing off. He doesn’t want to show how hurt he actually is that there are such things as secrets even between the two of them. It shows though, despite Baekhyun’s intentions. It shows because this is Kyungsoo and Baekhyun’s never had to put up a front with Kyungsoo.
“I’m gonna go,” Kyungsoo mutters. “I’ll see ya.”
÷
(Kyungsoo knows Baekhyun better than Baekhyun knows himself. That’s a given. Kyungsoo knows that Baekhyun is prone to undiagnosed fits of anxiety. He knows that Baekhyun gets stressed out by the tiny things, the little things, the medium things, and the huge things equally. He knows that Baekhyun is emotional, sensitive, that he gets too invested, that he gets hurt easily-Kyungsoo knows all of this. Kyungsoo knows Baekhyun better than he knows himself. Maybe it comes with years of friendship and years of being there for Baekhyun, but it’s instinct now for him to push aside what bothers him and hurts him the most for the sake of making sure that backlash never ever touches Baekhyun.)
÷
Neither of them really admit it out loud but everyone else is well aware of the tension between them. It’s because Baekhyun doesn’t like secrets and Kyungsoo doesn’t like commotions. There’s something dissonant about their personalities meshing into a single union but it’s never been a problem-at least, not until now.
Because now, Kyungsoo’s different. He’s quieter, more tired, and far less willing to submit to questions. He has secrets too, answers that he’s locking away because he has his own reasons, reasons he can’t quite say out loud without having to battle regret just a beat later.
Suddenly, there are boundaries. There are barriers. There are limits, things to say, things not to say and Baekhyun hates it. He really really hates it because he finds himself sitting in an empty hospital room trying to justify his peskiness and curiosity only to discover that he can’t. He can’t justify any of his actions towards Kyungsoo when all of his excuses fall flat because in the end, it’s always Kyungsoo who expends effort for the sake of Baekhyun. It’s always Kyungsoo who makes sacrifices without even being asked to.
Maybe it isn’t okay for Baekhyun to be doing this, but he can’t really stop himself when he’s already waiting out in the halls by the operating room. He’s pacing, walking himself to the room he remembers changing out of his battle armor in. He remembers this room because everyone in it had been so solemn as they’d stripped themselves of medical masks and looked bare and naked in just their scrubs and their sadness.
Kyungsoo’s in an assist right now for a jaw surgery. Or, he was, because the door to the room opens a few minutes later and there’s Kyungsoo, exhausted as ever.
“Seriously?” Kyungsoo asks, disbelief laced in his tone though it lacks hostility. He shuffles past Baekhyun, towards the trash can. “Do you need something, Baekhyun?”
“Why do you even bother sticking with me when I make you clean up all of my messes?” Baekhyun finds himself blurting out. He regrets it right after when Kyungsoo’s eyes widen briefly and he looks away instead of laughing it off like he might have a week or two ago. The question lingers heavily and Baekhyun swallows the lump in his throat.
Kyungsoo takes his surgical mask off slowly, stripping himself of procedural attire until he’s back to just his scrubs. The look on his face is unreadable and that makes Baekhyun squirm. He doesn’t like not knowing what Kyungsoo’s thinking or feeling but there’s been too much of that these days.
There’s been a little too much distance impeding their interactions lately and Baekhyun’s almost tempted to say that out loud but he can’t. He can’t say honest things like that when it feels like there are new boundaries he’s never had to deal with before.
“Why do I stick with you?” he repeats, confirming the question as he runs a hand through mussed hair, making it messier than it was just moments before. “I mean, aside from the obvious answer you’re expecting-the one where I tell you you’re my best friend?”
Baekhyun stills. There’s a thumping in his heart and he doesn’t know why.
“’I’m not sure,” Kyungsoo confesses with an offhanded shrug. “What do you want to hear? Do you want to hear the truth?”
“Tell me the truth.”
“I don’t know,” Kyungsoo replies with a hoarse chuckle. His voice is thick with lethargy and he shifts ever so slightly to stretch out a knotted muscle at the back of his neck. “Because I like you?”
The four words remain unprocessed in Baekhyun’s mind. All he can manage is a choked, “what?”
“Because I’ve been hopelessly infatuated with you since med school? Since high school? Because I’ve had to see you get your heart broken not only by others but by your own damn self? I don’t know, Baekhyun, that’s a loaded question and I’m not sure if you’re ready to hear the full answer because I could go on for a fucking month about why I’m still here.”
“Hold on, what are you-”
Kyungsoo’s pager beeps loudly. He glances down and then back up at Baekhyun, a faint smile on his lips accented with a tinge of bitterness. “Sorry. I gotta go.”
He’s counting in his head, maybe even holding his breath for a little while because Baekhyun’s almost expecting Kyungsoo to turn around, to say just kidding or you should have seen the look on your dumb face. Kyungsoo doesn’t turn around. The door closes.
Baekhyun exhales.
÷
“You’re pining for some flower boy you thought was the man of your dreams; of course you’re miserable, baby,” Jongdae hums absentmindedly from behind the desk. He’s not distracted by a magazine this time-there’s been an influx of patients in the winter season and he’s been worked to the bone too. No one’s really safe in the hospital these days. “That’s how it’s supposed to be with one-sided romances. Haven’t you seen those juicy dramas with the bodacious men?”
Baekhyun sighs, stretching out his torso over the desk in muted agony.
“You’re not so tragic though, sweetie,” Jongdae continues, clacking away at the keyboard and just barely paying attention to Baekhyun’s attempts at getting much-needed attention. “At least you’ve got someone else roped into your twisted little love triangle.”
“It’s not like that,” Baekhyun insists petulantly.
Jongdae finally lifts his head, brow raised in amusement. His lips curl into a coy smile as he clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Oh, Byun Baekhyun, you seasoned idiot. You’ve been so caught up in your little world of make believe that you didn’t even notice there’s a perfectly imperfect guy who’s head over heels for you.” He shakes his head dramatically. “Christ, this is a drama-I think I’m going to write it and make millions off of your sappy love story. Don’t you dare copyright your life. There are screenplays to be written.”
There’s a beat of silence as Baekhyun lets out another dejected sigh, emotions much too compromised for him to think straight or speak logically. Instead, he presses his cheek to the surface of the counter and stares at Jongdae imploringly.
“Do a pros-and-cons list,” Jongdae suggests, gaze returning to the flickering computer screen. “You’ve been so delightfully fixated on setting yourself up for failure that you haven’t even thought about the possibilities, huh?”
Baekhyun is frowning.
“Here, let me get you started,” he encourages with a staged tap on the chin. “Pros of Kim Joonmyun-okay, I’ll give him the looks. He’s got a nice little boy-next-door vibe going on. Hm, well, that’s about it for me unless you have something else to add. No? Stellar. Let’s move on to cons. Cons? He’s broken your heart three times, right? Once in high school, once in undergrad, once in med school, and Jesus Christ, Byun Baekhyun, if you give him that fourth tally I will strangle you myself.”
Baekhyun is still frowning.
“Listen to me,” the man encourages, “this isn’t high school anymore, love. You aren’t bound by the tide; there’s no reason for you to like someone because the world told you to when you were sixteen years old. It’s been so long. Does he still make your heart thump? Does he make you turn red whenever you look at him? Are you even comfortable with him?” Jongdae sighs when Baekhyun buries his face into his hands.
“I mean, no but-it’s just…”
“Let’s move on. Do Kyungsoo, pros? He’s been with you through three heartbreaks, right? What a coincidence! It’s almost like he’s been there all along!”
“You’re so biased it hurts,” Baekhyun whines.
“No, no. He has his cons too-for example, the one we both know all too well is that he must be stupid if he’s held on to some idiot named Byun Baekhyun all these years. I wish someone would prove me wrong about that one, don't you? I think we're all secretly rooting for a happy ending."
÷
Baekhyun skips class his third year of high school because he’s overwhelmed by everything. He gets stressed out easily and that’s okay, but sometimes, he has to get away from people, from obligations, from school, from everything and he doesn’t quite have the parents who are understanding of ‘mental health days.’ So he skips, because sometimes he feels impulsive. He skips because he doesn’t care if he gets detention for three months after that or if he has to kneel out in the hallway with a textbook raised above his head.
He doesn’t get any punishment, actually, and he finds out the reason why is because while their homeroom teacher was taking attendance, Do Kyungsoo took a leap of courage and hurled a blackboard eraser at her head to distract her from calling out ‘Byun, Baekhyun.’
Kyungsoo is always there for Baekhyun, with or without a carton of banana milk.
÷
Holidays aren’t family-oriented anymore.
His parents are in the states because that’s the new trend these days. Spending the holidays on foreign soil is the trendiest thing to do and Baekhyun’s parents have always strived for the best. It’s Christmas Eve but he’s relatively alone save for Chanyeol, who’s apparently too lazy to go out and party even though Baekhyun has his suspicions that Chanyeol doesn’t want to leave him alone.
“Joonmyun’s a nice guy,” Chanyeol concedes with a flippant wave of his head, lips slurping up excess foam from the beer he’s opened, “but I mean, most of the world is nice. He’s cool, whatever, but. Come on, Baekhyun, let’s be realistic here. You don’t even get the butterflies around him anymore, do you?”
“No,” Baekhyun confesses readily, “but he took up a huge chunk of my life. Ruined it, actually.” He grins, finishing his own can of shitty beer. He stretches his legs out on the couch, leaning back and burrowing himself beneath blankets and cushions.
“Yeah?” Chanyeol replies. “Anyone else on your mind who might have been there for an equally huge chunk of your life?”
“It doesn’t work like that,” he protests with a huff. “You know, I can’t just pick and choose-”
“You’re not picking and choosing. Don’t be so cruel to yourself, Baekhyun. I just want you to close your eyes and think about it real hard. It’s almost Christmas. You can use the holidays to confess to who’s really occupying your heart and well, if it doesn’t work out, blame your actions on eggnog. We can pretend I spiked it. Actually, wait, I might have-okay, never mind. So let’s do an experiment or something.” Beer sloshes from the can as Chanyeol waves his hand in excitement. “Close your eyes.”
Baekhyun rolls his eyes.
“Do it, Baekhyun!” Chanyeol urges, changing his frown to a grin only when Baekhyun finally relents. “Alright, now just imagine these scenarios and think about the face that comes to mind immediately. Ready? Okay.
You need someone to pick you up at 4 in the morning because you’re a lightweight and you got shitfaced because I forced you to do a beer bong at some shady as fuck location. Who’s picking you up, Baekhyun? Who’s making it out into Seoul’s horrible traffic to pick your drunk ass up? Okay. Who’s the person you think of every day, without fail-effortlessly? Baekhyun, whose arms would you want to be in after getting your heart broken by some scumbag?”
Chanyeol pauses and Baekhyun can hear him settle the can of beer down on the table.
“Baekhyun, who would never break your heart?”
÷
It’s 5:00 AM on Christmas morning and he has better things to do and more important places to be but he’s running, sprinting down the streets and up the stairs of an apartment building he’s much too familiar with. And he’s out of breath by the time he gets to his destination, muscles aching and hair a mess, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care even after he’s pounded his fist twenty times on the door. His heart’s beating too quickly for him to think twice about what he’s doing anyways.
The door opens after a painstaking four minutes (Baekhyun keeps track) revealing a pleasantly disheveled Kyungsoo looking completely and utterly dazed and confused.
“Wha-”
And maybe it’s the adrenaline that fuels him but Baekhyun wastes no time in leaning forward to kiss Kyungsoo square on the lips. Never mind the fact that he’s much too discombobulated to actually get Kyungsoo on the lips-he misses by a couple centimeters and gets the corner of his mouth-but it’s close enough. He pulls away, eyes wide and bright and lips pulled into a glowing grin. Kyungsoo, on the other hand, looks bewildered and mildly terrified.
“WHAT, the fuck,” Kyungsoo demands appropriately, stumbling back a few steps and nearly closing the door on Baekhyun in his shock. He doesn’t close the door; he leaves it cracked open a tiny bit like he needs to fend off Baekhyun.
“I like you too.” He blurts it out and it’s inelegant and so, so rushed, but Baekhyun, for once in his life, is feeling comfortable and content and so fucking sure of himself.
“… what?” Kyungsoo still looks terrified.
“… I like you too?”
“… w… hat…”
“I LIKE YOU TOO.”
Kyungsoo stares at Baekhyun blankly, morning lethargy still blanketed over his head. “Jesus, Byun Baekhyun,” he spits out, wiping his mouth with his hand in mock disgust before opening the door again, hesitantly. He shoots a piercing glare at Baekhyun’s face and sighs exasperatedly before smiling. “You couldn’t have waited ‘till noon?” This is Baekhyun’s admission and he wastes no time in seizing it when he wraps his arms around Kyungsoo and forces him into a hug.
“I’m sorry,” Baekhyun mutters into Kyungsoo’s shoulder, “I’m sorry I took so fucking long and that I’m an idiot.”
“I honestly can’t tell if this is real,” Kyungsoo replies genuinely. “This is going to be a process, but-Baekhyun, hey, I could have waited a hundred more years.”
Baekhyun pulls back, staring at Kyungsoo wide-eyed and mildly incredulous. The grin on his lips that follows is mischievous as he holds Kyungsoo’s face with both of his hands on either side, pulling him in for another kiss. This time, he gets a bull’s eye. “You’re a cheesy dweeb,” Baekhyun remarks with a grin. “It’s so gross, but I kinda like it. Didn’t know you had it in you.”
“Seriously?” Kyungsoo complains. “It’s 5 in the morning, you almost gave me a heart attack, and yet you still have it in you to mock me. I don’t get paid enough to pretend to like you.”
“You’re the worst.”
“Hey-but, are you… I mean, are you good?” And that’s it, that’s all Kyungsoo has to ask for Baekhyun to know what he means. There’s hesitation in Kyungsoo’s eyes as he pulls away even further to get a better look at Baekhyun’s face, as though to gauge his honesty, to make sure that this is real and not just a cruel joke.
“Yeah,” Baekhyun replies confidently, “I’m good.”
“Alright,” Kyungsoo confirms with a slow nod of his head. “Then I guess that’s that. I’m glad you came to your senses. I’m pretty sure no one else buys you banana milk like I do, anyways.”
A/N:
thank you to v for fixing typos and such. thank you onyu for the challenging but enjoyable prompt! hopefully it's to your liking. also, please excuse potentially inaccurate medical stuff -- as it turns out, being a surgeon is just as confusing as it seems!
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