Solstice for chwihae [3/3]

[yeolliepopday]

The view of downtown Jinhae from Anmin Hill is not all that different from any other similar vantage point, but Chanyeol is quite sure that Yixing will find something unique about it anyway.

They don’t come up until after the parade, which the doctor had so zealously dragged him to. Before that, he had wanted to see a temple and being the stellar (read: whipped) tour guide that Chanyeol is, he took him to two.

By the time they near the top of Anmin hill, the sun is already gone. Undeterred, Yixing simply adjusts his camera settings and clicks away while Chanyeol stands back and observes.

“It’s not just the physical element of it,” Yixing tells him when he finally asks why he keeps on taking photos of everything when a lot of them look the same anyway.

“It’s the experience of seeing it and being there. A lot of things factor in that.”

Chanyeol leans back under one of the nearby trees, watches the other man’s back. His shirt molds into every bend and shift of his shoulders as he fiddles with something on his camera while taking in the view of downtown Jinhae from the summit. Chanyeol notes the lack of layers, but only very briefly. It’s quite distracting how well Yixing fills out the one layer that he is wearing.

“Like what?”

“Like, the weather. The time of day.” Yixing makes a big, dramatic gesture with his hands to encompass the moonlit sky and the city below. To be fair, the night view is very different - with the city lights pulsing with life from where they stand. So sure, he’ll give him that. Yixing moves to the side to get a different angle and continues, “The season. Temperature.”

“The company?” Chanyeol supplies cheekily, untangling his arms to plant his hands on either side of his hips instead.

Yixing turns around and points his camera at Chanyeol who automatically scrunches his face and puts two fingers in a V-sign over his right eye. Laughing, Yixing takes the shot.

“Especially the company.” He pockets the small camera as he approaches, smiling eyes fixed on Chanyeol.

It’s unfair, really, how arresting Yixing’s eyes can be. Chanyeol isn’t even surprised that he can’t seem to look away, or even move a muscle. And then all of a sudden Yixing is standing merely inches away from him under the shadow of cherry blossoms. He holds his breath.

“You’re the best tour guide ever, Cànliè,” Yixing says, mirthfully, reaching out to lightly brush Chanyeol’s earlobe between his fingers.

A feeble smirk forms on Chanyeol’s lips while he tries not to shiver from the touch.

“Of course I am,” he mumbles, mock-smugly.

Yixing chuckles, his voice growing softer. “I want to say thank you for these past few days.” He looks at the taler man intently, like he’s committing everything about him to memory.

Chanyeol feels his heart squeeze in his chest. He wants to tell him, “don’t say good bye yet; we still have tomorrow. And don’t think I’m not driving you to the station when you leave,” but he knows he probably won’t. Yixing doesn’t like good-byes very much; neither does Chanyeol, but maybe he can make an exception if it means he can spend a few more minutes with Yixing.

Cool wind blows through the branches, tousling the smaller man’s dark hair. It sends a few cherry blossoms drifting to the ground around them, and all Chanyeol can think about is how beautiful Yixing looks like this-partly cloaked in shadows, a soft glow dancing on his warm skin; framed within the backdrop of a glowing city, and the reflection of a silver moon over the rippling waters beyond it.

As if on instinct, Chanyeol’s hand moves to arrange Yixing’s fringe, to brush them out of his eyes. The smaller man lets him, shuffles just a little bit closer to make himself easier to reach. He’s looking at Chanyeol with such fond, fond eyes-open, earnest, and giving. And all of a sudden Chanyeol remembers. He remembers exactly why he fell in love with Zhang Yixing in the first place and his brain short-circuits.

His gaze drops to Yixing’s pink lips, and before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s leaning in-moth to a flame. His pulse is going so, so fast; his is mind yelling, “what are you doing, what the fuck are you doing!” but he doesn’t stop. And Yixing doesn’t move away.

They catch the sound of footsteps and loud chatter just as he gets close enough that he can feel Yixing’s breath hot on his skin. It’s Chanyeol who lurches back first. He instinctively grabs Yixing’s hand, quickly drawing him flush next to him, deeper in the shadow. He holds his breath, heart still hammering in his chest, as what sounds like a big group of teenagers walks past.

“Great reflexes,” Yixing comments casually the second they’re gone. Like they didn’t just almost kiss - in a public place no less - and like they weren’t almost caught in the act. Like almost-kissing isn’t the dumbest thing to be doing right now because he’s leaving very soon.

“Uh, thanks?” He considers it a small blessing that Yixing can’t see the bright red blot that is his entire face.

“Come on, let’s go back. It’s getting late,” says the doctor. He steps away from the shade and only when Chanyeol easily gets pulled along does he realize that he never let go of Yixing’s hand.

The smaller man loosens his grip, but only to fan out his hand so that he can fit Chanyeol’s fingers between the gaps. Chanyeol’s brain is still lagging by a lot to manage any sort of reaction, and so that’s how their hands stay all the way to the car.

Chanyeol sits behind the wheel with tension bleeding out of his every fingertip. The radio humming steadily over the static gives too little relief and his hands itch to turn up the volume - but he supposes that would be rude.

The awkwardness that lingers in the silence feels so foreign. There’s actually a lot to be said, a lot he’s wanted to ask since day one. And now it hits him more than ever that he’s running out of time.

Chanyeol inhales through his nose as his restless fingers go tap dancing nervously on the wheel.

“Did Mama Zhang know?” are the first words he breathes out as they find themselves at a standstill on an intersection, waiting for the green light.

“What-oh,” Yixing rubs his hands together - a distraction more than anything else, Chanyeol guesses, because he knows that Yixing isn’t cold. The doctor gnaws on his lower lip while Chanyeol tries to keep his focus away from his mouth.

“I think she did,” says Yixing. “She never... she never asked. Sometimes she would start talking about grandchildren, and then it’s like she’d catch herself. Then she’d look at me with a sad smile.”

Yixing blows out a sigh and glances at Chanyeol with a wan smile. “She liked you very much, but like you said, it’s not easy.”

Chanyeol nods, grips the wheel a little bit tighter. “Is that why you stopped returning my messages?”

“Yes,” Yixing doesn’t miss a beat although he doesn’t sound very happy about that answer. “Also because there was so much happening - papa was going on and on about med school and mama got sick, then all of a sudden the business was hanging in the balance. I didn’t know how to deal with the question of my sexuality on top of it. I... I should have probably dealt with it better, though. You didn’t deserve that.”

Chanyeol is already shaking his head before Yixing is even done talking. Of course he’s going to blame himself-presume that it’s his responsibility to make everybody happy. Chanyeol exhales.

“Hey, I don’t blame you at all, hyung,” he says, his tone casual. “We were just kids, anyway. It’s not like we honestly thought we would spend the rest of our lives together, right? Who really stays together these days, anyway?”

He instantly regrets how that inadvertently came out sounding a tad too caustic, because now Yixing is eyeing him intently. He turns to the stoplight and watches it like a hawk. What the hell is taking the green light so long?

“You say that like you don’t... believe it can happen to you.”

“No, I do. I do,” he blurts. “But-you know, I just think that I’m, maybe, better without it.” The carefree, upbeat tone sounds so rehearsed and he hates that he’s using it on Yixing.

Yixing doesn’t say anything to that; he just keeps watching Chanyeol like he’s waiting for him to say more. Something more honest, perhaps.

The light turns green. Chanyeol hits the accelerator and keeps going.

“I think it’s probably better to meet someone who’s not looking for a committed relationship-”

“Just sex.” Yixing doesn’t say it like it’s a question.

There’s no judgment or condescension in the way Yixing says it, but it sounds distasteful in Chanyeol’s ears nonetheless. He doesn’t know why he’s so reluctant to talk to Yixing about this, anyway. It’s not like there’s any point in trying to forge a pristine image to impress him. Chanyeol sleeps with people he has no feelings for and then leaves right after. He’s trash next to someone as decent and as benevolent as Yixing. Grass is green.

“Exactly,” Chanyeol says without inflection. “Just casual sex. No obligations.”

“Is that what you and Do Kyungsoo-sshi-”

“Kyungsoo isn’t out,” he tells him instead of answering the question outright. He’s not even surprised to hear Kyungsoo’s name in this conversation at this point. “I’m going back to Seoul in a week or two so I’m good for a no-strings deal. That’s really all there is there.”

It almost seems like there’s something Yixing wants to say-or maybe ask-but he says nothing more; neither does Chanyeol. Yixing stares out the window the rest of the way.

They cross the town border just as it starts to drizzle and it escalates gradually until they finally arrive at the guesthouse. As they make their way across the lawn, the light rain suddenly turns into an angry downpour which, luckily, drowns out Chanyeol’s embarrassing yip. Yixing doesn’t appear to mind getting rained on at all, but Chanyeol grabs him by the hand anyway and they make a mad dash up to the back.

They end up in Chanyeol’s cottage because he’s the one navigating and he’s not quite thinking clearly.

“Chanyeol, we have to make dinner,” Yixing points out as they drip all over the welcome mat in the doorway. It’s a cramped, little area that hardly grants either of them any personal space. Chanyeol feels like he probably should get some distance between them, but to do that he’ll have to either step back outside or soak a larger portion of the floor. He opts to stay put.

Right. Cook dinner. They’ll have to make dinner while all of Yixing’s ingredients are next door. He cards fingers through his wet hair to push it out of his face then tries to wipe his hand down his jeans, which doesn’t help very much considering his clothes aren’t exactly dry either.

“Give me your key, I’ll go get your stuff,” he offers but Yixing shakes his head.

“I’ll do it. You should go take a shower if you don’t want to catch a cold,” he says and then he’s gone before the taller man can get a word in edgewise.

Chanyeol frowns at the closed door.

“He could have at least taken an umbrella,” he grunts as he toes off his soaked shoes.

He goes straight to the shower, just like the doctor ordered. Sighing, he rubs his hands on his face as hot water beats down on his back. He stays under the spray until his skin has gone all wrinkly and the tiles have fogged up.

When he finally steps out clad in gray sweatpants and a blank tank under a long, white robe, he follows the sound of light clanking sounds coming from the kitchen. He finds Yixing busy with a pot of steaming noodle soup. His hair is still damp, but he’s changed out of his wet clothes, at least.

Chanyeol furtively approaches as he dries his hair with a small towel. He’s not quite so dense; he does notice the shift in Yixing’s mood. It’s hard not to when he’s suddenly acting cold and talking in clipped sentences. He hasn’t been smiling either and that, Chanyeol thinks, is the worst part of it.

He clears his throat.

“Hey.”

Yixing makes a sound of acknowledgment but he doesn’t turn around.

“I’m sorry for dragging you. Again,” Chanyeol tells him sheepishly as he moves to sit on a stool by the island where a round, wooden pot coaster and two sets of small plates and bowls are already set.

“Don’t worry about it,” Yixing replies, flatly. Chanyeol purses his lips.

“You should have showered first, hyung.”

“I did.”

“Oh.” Chanyeol quietly berates himself for being an idiot. “Good.” he wraps the towel around his neck and tries to brush back his messy hair with his fingers.

“Is there anything you need me to do?”

“Not really.”

“Do you want me to... get us some wine?”

“Do whatever you want.” The microwave oven dings. Yixing quickly goes to take out a glass container of leftover dumplings from last night before the other man can offer to help.

Chanyeol sighs and finally asks, “Hyung, are you angry?”

A beat passes. And then...

“No.” Yixing turns to serve the dumplings but he doesn’t look up. Chanyeol might have lied a little when he said that he can’t tell when Yixing is lying. Truth is Yixing has never been a very good liar.

The doctor comes back with the pot which he carefully puts on top of the coaster. He removes the lid, releasing a cloud of mouthwatering steam, and Chanyeol’s stomach positively growls.

Chanyeol grabs the ladle from the side with one hand and reaches over to take Yixing’s bowl with the other. The older man’s mouth falls open, as if to protest, but Chanyeol’s having none of that now.

“I think you’re angry,” he asserts as he conveys the soup to the small bowl, making sure to scoop up lots of noodles because he knows Yixing likes it. To recompense, Yixing picks up his chopsticks and transfers three dumplings onto Chanyeol’s plate.

“I’m not. Eat your food,” he says sternly then mumbles a quiet, “Thank you,” when Chanyeol sets his bowl down in front of him. Chanyeol almost laughs because he’s really cute when he’s sulking and trying to lie about it.

“Is this about Kyungsoo?” He smirks. “Are you jealous?” He’s really only messing with him; but then Yixing looks up from his bowl, and there’s something in his eyes that makes Chanyeol’s smug expression waver.

“If I say yes, what would you do?”

Chanyeol freezes, his grin dissolving into a look of wide-eyed confusion.

“I don’t...” He blinks. “I already told you that he and I are not in a relationship-not one that means anything. In fact, I haven’t seen him since the day we ran into him at the shabu shabu place, which means I haven’t gotten laid in days and I’m... I don’t know why I’m telling you this.” Chanyeol ducks under the guise of examining the dumplings on his plate.

Yixing coughs out an amused chuckle. He takes the other man’s empty bowl and fills it to the brim. He’s always telling Chanyeol that he’s too skinny.

“I’m really not mad,” he says, placating, as he gives the bowl back. “But, yeah, maybe a little jealous.”

Zhang Yixing, always honest to a fault, Chanyeol thinks as he tries to fight down a fierce blush and the fluttering in his stomach.

If there is anything that Chanyeol stocks up on, it’s alcohol. Yixing shoots him a disapproving look the moment he finds out, but once the food is all gone and the kitchenware washed and put away, they grab as many cans of beers as their arms can hold.

They head to the room where Chanyeol dumps them all on the bed. He motions for Yixing to do the same as he goes over to the other side-the one that’s not facing the door. He sits on the floor with his back against the side of the cushion, legs folded under him. Yixing follows suit.

“Just like old times,” Chanyeol snickers as he pops open a can and hands it over to the doctor. The curtain is drawn but the sound of the rain pelting down on the windows is loud enough. It doesn’t sound like it’s going to let up anytime soon.

“So I’m guessing there won’t be any cherry blossoms left by tomorrow,” Yixing muses aloud.

Chanyeol hums in agreement. “It might not be as bad downtown, though. We always seem to get more rain up here.”

Yixing tips the can back so suddenly that Chanyeol gapes at him in surprise. “Hey, slow down,” he says, laughing.

“I don’t like that you’re settling for a relationship that means nothing,” Yixing tells him, his voice quiet but firm. Chanyeol nearly drops his beer.

“What?” Weren’t they just talking about trees?

“You heard me,” is all Yixing says. He shakes his head. “I know it’s not my place to say this, but I just wanted to get that out.”

Chanyeol hears the “before I leave” at the end of that statement even though Yixing doesn’t say it. Chanyeol takes a long drink. He unfolds his legs and extends them in front of him as he leans back against the bed.

“I’m not settling, hyung. Just getting laid,” he offhandedly states.

Yixing pushes forward, craning a bit so that he can look at the other man properly

“And that works for you,” he scoffs, brows knitted in impatience. There’s a bit of color on his cheeks now, which probably explains why he’s being all short-fused and borderline rude. Chanyeol is honestly more amused than offended, though.

“It is what it is,” he shrugs. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had a one-night-stand?”

Yixing gives him a look. “I hardly think Do Kyungsoo-sshi classifies as a one-night-stand anymore,” he deadpans. “And I know what you’re thinking - I’m not drunk. This thing isn’t even half-empty yet.” He raises his can and gives it a little shake. “Give me a little credit.”

Chanyeol chuckles at Yixing’s pout. He’s probably too old to be adorable but Chanyeol thinks there’s simply no other word for what he is. Yixing shifts suddenly, and the next thing he knows the man’s head is on his lap. He’s still wearing the robe and it’s probably a good thing because it makes him a softer makeshift pillow somehow. Yixing folds up his knees, both hands on his stomach, and closes his eyes.

“I barely had time to sleep; I couldn’t bother with relationships, sexual or not,” he tells him. “I dated this girl for a year when I was taking pre-med, though. Just to try it out, and to get my father off my case about having a girlfriend. That’s about all the progress I’ve had on the relationship front.”

“See, that’s even worse,” Chanyeol contends, blatantly ignoring the bitter taste rising in his mouth. “Because there are expectations and commitment. The poor girl.”

Yixing eases one eye open and frowns up at him. “Hey, I may have started out having questionable motives, but I didn’t half-ass it. I tried really hard.”

“Of course you did,” Chanyeol mutters. Yixing probably took her out on nice dates; cooked for her often; messaged her everyday, asking how her day went; gave her thoughtful presents, especially when making up for forgetting special occasions. Chanyeol takes another long drink, hoping to wash down the awful taste on his tongue.

“What was her name?”

Yixing briefly chews on his bottom lip.

“Song Qian.”

“Hm. Pretty.”

Yixing sits up again, facing him this time. For some reason, the sly grin that slowly spreads across his face almost makes Chanyeol want to hide. He gives a start when Yixing holds up an index finger to poke at the side of his cheek where a shallow dimple forms whenever he smiles or scrunches his face.

“Are you jealous, Cànliè?” The doctor singsongs and Chanyeol feels the tip of ears grow hot. He picks up his beer.

“Shut up,” he scowls then tilts the can against his lips while Yixing chuckles beside him.

They stay sprawled on the wooden floor, talking more than drinking, as the rain persists over the next few hours-dwindling to fine rain one minute and then intensifying to tremendous pouring the next. They talk and laugh about anything and everything; about things that make sense and things that don’t.

When they get to the topic of music, Chanyeol points at the bass guitar that’s sitting in its case next to the wall. The simple mention of guitars and Yixing gets this sparkle in his eyes that eventually makes Chanyeol take him up to the loft where the rest of his equipment are. He’s not surprised when the keyboard calls out to Yixing first.

Chanyeol holds his breath as he watches the doctor’s delicate fingers ghost over the keys. His eyes fall shut, and then he plays a melody that Chanyeol doesn’t recognize. It’s breathtaking the way music consumes him; the way he waves and pulses with it the second it starts pouring out of his fingertips. In Chanyeol’s mind, he can hear it accompanied by strings, maybe an orchestra. There’s a sadness, a graceful melancholy that Chanyeol finds himself latching onto, and he feels an ache in his chest that he hasn’t felt in a while.

Right at that moment he wishes Yixing hadn’t quit music. This is what he should be doing - though Yixing probably won’t agree. He closes with a smooth diminuendo, and then he just sits there, looking at the keys like a long-lost friend.

“That was beautiful,” Chanyeol doesn’t bother to veil the awe in his voice. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” Yixing shrugs. “I haven’t played in a really long time.” He has the brightest smile when he glances up and Chanyeol’s heart stutters.

Chanyeol’s a little bit envious of his natural ability to easily come up with something like that on the spot. But more than that, he’s just really blown away. Yet again.

“I guess you can get the man out of music but you can’t get music out of the man.”

Yixing chuckles as he flops down next to him on the sofa. There’s a lot of free space and yet they’re stuck together so close that Yixing is practically half-sitting on the taller man. Chanyeol doesn’t complain, though. He never does.

“I wish I could do that,” he doesn’t realize he’s said it aloud until Yixing turns to him sharply, looking almost offended.

“Hey, stop that. You may be in a slump now but you’re a lot more capable than you give yourself credit for.”

“Yeah, but you…” Chanyeol sighs. He doesn’t know what compels him to do it, but he does it anyway. He lets his guard down - lets his mouth curve in a gentle smile; lets his eyes go soft as he looks at the other man in open adoration. “You’re incredible, Yixing.”

Yixing takes a breath, stares at him like he’s seeing him for the first time. And suddenly there’s a warm hand holding the back of his neck, tugging him down, and Yixing is craning forward to meet him halfway. He gasps, surprised, but he doesn’t pull away.

Yixing’s lips are soft and inviting and addictive, just as he remembers, and he wants to taste more. Yixing is the one who goes for it first, using his tongue to coax Chanyeol’s lips apart, eagerly licking into his mouth the second he’s granted access. A low groan rumbles in Chanyeol’s throat as he angles his head a certain way with the intention of nibbling on the smaller man’s bottom lip.

He’s not quite sure if he hoists Yixing from his original position or if Yixing does it on his own, but all of a sudden the doctor is on Chanyeol’s lap, his butt perched on his knobby knees. In spite of all the rearranging, they don’t break the kiss once, and Chanyeol can feel his lungs beginning to burn from lack of air.

Yixing grips his shoulders, pulling away slightly, but he doesn’t remove himself from on top of the other man. His breathing is erratic, eyes glazed over, mouth positively kiss-swollen. Chanyeol can’t say he’s not proud of his work.

“Is this,” Yixing heaves, trying to catch his breath. “Is this okay?”

The uncertainty is so clear in Yixing’s eyes as they search his face. He sees fear there, too - like he’s afraid that Chanyeol will tell him that this is a big mistake and then proceed to dump him on his ass. He’s pretty sure that’s exactly what he should do right now, actually.

Chanyeol’s hands slip under the back of Yixing’s shirt and the doctor gasps upon contact, fingers curling tighter over the muscles of the taller man’s shoulders. Chanyeol can feel him shiver under his touch, and God, he wants so much more.

“Probably a very bad idea,” Chanyeol grunts, shaking his head. Yixing’s expression begins to crumble, but Chanyeol quickly pulls him closer. This time he’s the one who chases Yixing’s mouth for another kiss. He nuzzles his nose along the other’s jaw, peppering kisses all over his neck. Yixing arcs his back, straining to get as close as possible.

Chanyeol moans against hot skin when he feels the man’s erection pushing against his stomach. He’s in pretty much the same state, and he knows Yixing can tell because he sucks in a breath so suddenly. He presses his mouth along Chanyeol’s ear.

“Bed,” he rasps, the sound of it wheedling a needy moan from the taller man. He nearly sobs at the loss of contact when Yixing moves away, but Yixing quickly grabs his hand and hauls him up from the couch with surprising force.

They trip a few times on the way to the bedroom because Chanyeol has long, awkward limbs while Yixing is just naturally clumsy. When they finally, finally get there, Chanyeol makes a grab for his waist and turns him around so that he can kiss him again. Yixing’s fingers skitter over the taller man’s broad shoulders and under the robe, pushing further and further until it slides down Chanyeol’s arms to pool around his feet instead.

Chanyeol lightly pushes Yixing on the bed and then proceeds to crawl on top of him while shoving the few remaining cans of beer to the floor. Yixing presses a hand on Chanyeol’s chest the moment their noses align.

“I’m still leaving in two days,” he says, voice somber, though his eyes scream nothing but want.

Chanyeol swallows.

“I know.” He pecks Yixing’s soft mouth. “So less talk; more action.”

Yixing laughs at his lameness before drawing him in for a kiss, and Chanyeol secretly stores that lovely sound away in the deepest recesses of his mind.

Chanyeol wakes up to darkness, the loud and steady rapping of the rain, and a featherlight touch skimming the right of his chest. When he looks to his side, he’s greeted by the top of Yixing’s disheveled hair.

“Hey,” he mumbles, voice gruff, thick with sleep. Yixing looks wide awake when he shifts in Chanyeol’s arms and meets his eyes.

“Hey back,” the doctor smiles, his own voice rough with disuse.

“Are you okay?”

Yixing heaves a suffering breath. “You’ve asked me that about ten times now.”

“Hey, you usually won’t feel the worst of the aftermath until several hours later, so excuse me for caring,” Chanyeol huffs, mock-indignantly.

He pouts while the other man chuckles, obviously happy with the reaction that his teasing has elicited. Yixing can be really evil, too, he reckons. But then the man drops a placating kiss on his cheek and earnestly whispers, “I’m fine; just a little bit sore, but nothing unbearable. Thank you for caring,” before burrowing into the hollow of his neck.

Chanyeol smiles despite himself. You are so whipped, his mind taunts, but he doesn’t really care right now. He shifts on his side, sighing as he wraps his arms around Yixing’s bare torso.

“Cànliè,”

“Hm?”

Chanyeol stiffens when he feels warm fingers press gently over the length of an ugly, jagged, slightly protruding line below his right collar bone. He supposes that was what Yixing was looking at earlier, too. His brain just wasn’t awake enough to set off warning bells then.

“What’s this?”

Chanyeol purses his lips. “Bad break up,” he says simply.

Yixing pulls away from him to sit up on the bed. The covers pool around his waist, leaving well-toned arms, chest, and stomach exposed. All Chanyeol wants to do right now is ravage him again and mark kisses all over his smooth skin, but the look of grave concern in the man’s eyes tells him it’s probably not the right time for any of that.

“Chanyeol,” the weight of his tone is almost suffocating. “That’s a stab wound.”

Chanyeol freezes. He’s a doctor, his mind reminds him. What did you expect?

“A very bad break up?” He tries for a bit of humor. Yixing isn’t having any of it though, and he fixes Chanyeol with a look that tells him exactly that.

Chanyeol drops the grin, the entire act. He shuts his eyes for a moment.

“Did I ever mention that we started out as five? It wasn’t always just Baekhyun, Jongdae, and I.”

Yixing shakes his head slowly, drawing his knees up and resting his chin on top of them. Chanyeol turns to stare up at the ceiling.

“Back in university, it was me, Baekhyun, Jongdae, Junmyeon-hyung, and Yifan. Junmyeon-hyung went back here after graduation to start a business and help manage his family’s estate, while the rest of us stayed in Seoul to put up a studio there. Yifan and I began dating not long after.” He chances a glance at Yixing and sees the grooves forming on his brow, the hard set of his jaw. He’s listening intently, never taking his eyes away.

“My family disapproved, of course, but I stood by him anyway. We dated for almost three years. I thought maybe he could be it, you know?” Chanyeol takes a breath. “Then one day, Junmyeon-hyung came up to visit. He talked to me and told me that Yifan might be embezzling the studio’s money. He said Baekhyun and Jongdae had been suspicious for a while but didn’t know how to tell me. I punched him. Square in the face. One of my very best friends. Probably the nicest guy I know. Besides you, anyway.” He sends Yixing a wan smile.

He has to pause there, clutching at the sheets over his stomach to keep his hands from shaking. Yixing shifts closer, folding his legs under himself. He pries one of Chanyeol’s hands free and holds it over his own lap instead.

“Then one day, I saw it. I checked the records. All the evidence was there. I confronted him about it. Obviously he didn’t take it very well. Then again maybe I shouldn’t have done it while we were in the kitchen. The knife was just right there-”

Yixing grips his hand tighter. He probably doesn’t realize he’s doing it. “Please tell me he’s in jail,” he pleads, the simmering rage in his voice so palpable and atypical of him that it takes Chanyeol by surprise.

“He’s not. He fled the country right away, went back to Canada, I suppose. I probably wouldn’t have pressed charges either way. I don’t think I’d ever want to have to see him again.”

The anger in Yixing’s eyes abates somewhat. Something else takes its place, one that Chanyeol can’t quite name. The way Yixing looks at him tells him that he understands. He understands everything now. So Chanyeol doesn’t bother with the rehearsed grins and fake laughter. He doesn’t pretend that it doesn’t still hurt to think about it.

Yixing brings up his hand to his lips and tenderly kisses his knuckles before lying back down to curl into his arms.

“I’m so sorry, Chanyeol,” he says softly, nuzzling the side of his face.

Chanyeol turns to kiss his forehead. “It’s not your fault.”

The digital wall clock opposite the bed reads 10:30 AM. It’s still raining out so they’re probably stuck indoors for now - not that Chanyeol minds. They should probably be getting up for food, he thinks. Neither of them shows any interest in getting out of bed any time soon, though.

Yixing is so still that he thinks he’s probably gone back to sleep. But then he moves closer, just the slightest nudge, and Chanyeol feels his eyelashes flutter against his bare chest.

Yixing doesn’t say anything but he can sense the uneasiness radiating off him in droves.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” he says suddenly. Chanyeol’s breath catches in his throat. Somehow it feels like Yixing means to say more. He waits, but it doesn’t come. The words just hang there, hovering like a dark cloud.

“Yeah,” breathes Chanyeol. He swallows, keeps himself together. “How about we get something to eat then I’ll help you pack later?”

Yixing stiffens in his hold. He senses the hesitation - the disappointment, perhaps. But what else is he supposed to say?

The smaller man exhales and snakes an arm around Chanyeol’s waist, pulling his body closer like he’s cold and Chanyeol is the warmer one between the two of them.

“Okay,” he says quietly.

Neither of them make any move to get up for another half an hour. Nobody mentions the scar again, or the fact that Yixing is leaving.

It’s easy enough to agree on pizza and fried chicken, and so they order in instead of bothering to go out and brave the strong rains. Later, Yixing suggests trying to work on a song together, to jog his inspiration a little, he says, and Chanyeol can’t think of a reason why not.

Foreseeing long hours up in the loft, Chanyeol brings up his bass guitar and converts the sofa into a bed. He spreads out a fresh comforter on top of it so that they can sit or lie down comfortably whenever they want to. This turns out to be a terrible idea because they mostly end up doing other ‘recreational activities’ that don’t exactly involve music composition. His sister is going to murder him for sure if they soil any part of the upholstery.

It takes several rounds of positively mind-blowing orgasms before they’re finally able to keep their hands off each other for longer than five minutes. Yixing heads downstairs to shower while Chanyeol quickly replaces the quilt on the sofa with a clean one. He does a fast inspection of the mattress while he’s at it and heaves a relieved sigh when he finds it spotless.

Chanyeol finds that seven minutes is too long, though. He discards his clothes, throwing them in a corner of his room, then follows after Yixing in the shower.

“Have you thought about what you’re going to do when you get back?” Chanyeol asks as he strums a random note on his guitar. Yixing’s hands still over the keyboard. He turns in the stool that he’s perched on and looks at Chanyeol with a calm smile on his face.

“I have, actually. I’m going to continue what I started,” he says. “I figured there’s so much beauty to see in this world, so much to experience. I’d like to be able to help people have a better chance at beating this disease so that they can enjoy that, too.”

And that, the conviction and passion in his eyes, is the reason why he can’t ask Yixing to stay. He has more important things to dedicate himself to right now. Chanyeol draws a breath. It’s not easy, but he manages a smile. A real one. Because he really is proud of the kind of person Yixing has become.

“That’s the spirit, Dr. Zhang,” he says, tossing Yixing’s own line back at him.

Yixing’s smile falters at the corners just a bit. He looks at Chanyeol like he’s the most precious thing he’s ever laid eyes on. And it’s funny, because that’s precisely what Chanyeol thinks of him, too. Yixing pushes the stool back and quickly strides to where Chanyeol is sitting on the sofa. He takes the musician’s face in his hands, bends at the waist to capture his lips in a sweet kiss.

It’s different, the way Chanyeol reciprocates this time. There’s no rush, no desperation. He slides the guitar off his lap and pulls Yixing in to take its place. It’s amazing how so much can be said in one kiss. He hears everything Yixing doesn’t say in the way he gently rakes his fingers through Chanyeol’s hair, the way he worships his mouth like he never wants forget how it feels.

Chanyeol’s fingers dig into the delicate bend of Yixing’s back, as if he wants to keep him under his skin if only he could. But then he knows that Yixing will be gone by daybreak. He knows that all they have is now, and he’s not going to waste it.

Chanyeol sleeps soundly that night, perhaps because he’s so worn out. He doesn’t see Yixing slip out of bed, doesn’t feel him leave a soft kiss on his hair.

It’s bright and sunny out when he does finally wake up. The first thing he registers is the absence of warmth beside him. He’s not even surprised. He takes a moment to reel his emotions in before pushing himself in a sitting position. Looking up, his gaze immediately lands on the keyboard where a yellow sticky note on top several sheets of paper catches his eye. He blinks, heart thudding in his chest for some reason.

He crawls out of bed and takes the music sheets off the keys. He easily recognizes Yixing’s handwriting on the sticky note.

C,

To get you started. And maybe something to remember me by until we see each other again.

Thank you.

我爱你. 3

加油!! 4

-Y

Chanyeol doesn’t know a lot of Chinese characters, but this - this he understands. He scans the sheets under the note and finds words to half of a song, accompanied by guitar chords. He doesn’t know when Yixing even had the time to do this. And he has no idea how his heart can feel so full and so empty at the same time.

He sucks in a painful breath, tilts his head back and pushes the heels of his hands down on his closed eyes. All of a sudden it overwhelms him beyond words how much he misses Yixing already.

Until we see each other again, his note says. Chanyeol sniffs, shakes his head to try and get himself together.

“Okay,” he breathes out.

He knows that Yixing is never one to break his promises. Chanyeol stares down at the pieces of paper in his hands, and he smiles. God, his handwriting is still awful, he thinks with a quiet laugh.

“Okay, ge.”

“Pray tell,” Kyungsoo sets his cup of Americano down on the table. “Why exactly did you want to meet me here?”

In the background, Chanyeol can just make out Junmyeon’s jolly greeting as he serves another grumpy customer their morning coffee. His patience with non-morning people is astonishing.

“No special reason,” Chanyeol responds with a shrug. “I’m going back to Seoul in the afternoon. I just thought I’d invite you for coffee so that we can meet in daylight for once.”

Kyungsoo eyes him suspiciously. “Does your friend know about this?”

Chanyeol is fully aware that Kyungsoo has one rule and one rule only: he will not be the reason a committed relationship, or something well on its way there, crumbles to the ground. Chanyeol supposes that’s why he never called once after the three of them ran into each other at the shabu shabu restaurant. Chanyeol didn’t show up at his doorstep that night; Kyungsoo probably took that as cue that he’s found something more important than fooling around.

“Yixing-hyung went back to China the other day. He was just here for the festival.”

“Just here for the festival,” Kyungsoo scoffs. “Somehow I doubt that.”

Chanyeol leans back in his chair as he takes a sip of jasmine tea. He doesn’t even try to deny it.

“He has things he needs to accomplish back home. It’s probably going to take a couple of years.”

The other man frowns deeply, shoots him a dark look. “In the meantime, you go treating random guys to coffee in the morning,” Kyungsoo drawls through gritted teeth, voice ripe with indignant sarcasm.

Chanyeol bristles at the accusation.

“Wow, who hurt you?” he blurts, eyes wide with mock-outrage.

Kyungsoo’s sharp glare wavers for all of half a second before his stare drops to the black coffee on the table.

“I have a big problem with cheaters is all,” he admits in a low voice.

Chanyeol blinks as he lets that sink in for a second. That’s probably the first time Kyungsoo has ever let anything remotely personal slip.

“Well, so do I,” Chanyeol tells him matter-of-factly. “And I’m no cheater, okay. You hurt my feelings.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes roll at Chanyeol’s dramatic pout, but at least they’re not firing daggers at him now.

“I honestly don’t intend to fool around anymore, believe it or not,” he declares without humor in his tone. He’s dead serious about this and Kyungsoo can probably tell because all he does is snort. No evil looks or cutting remarks. This is progress, Chanyeol thinks.

“So can we be friends now?”

He’s not even surprised when Kyungsoo merely cocks an eyebrow at him in response. Undaunted, Chanyeol grins a big, toothy grin, and finally, Kyungsoo heaves a long-suffering sigh.

“I don’t know what Yixing-sshi sees in you, to be very honest,” he deadpans with a shake of the head before lifting his coffee off the table.

Well, that’s not a ‘no’, Chanyeol reckons, and he beams even more.

“I think we’re gonna be great friends,” He goes on to assert, deliberately ignoring the whithering look that Kyungsoo sends his way. “Hey, I know someone who might be perfect for you. He lives in Seoul, though. But he’s a great guy. Just as prickly and uptight as you are and he-”

“Fuck, no.”

I must be lucky or this must be my day
It’s the warmth of holding you till I’m infused by your scent
I think it’s something I can feel for myself
Could it get any better than this, I’m holding my breath
For a kiss

Unyielding motion that’s wrapped in a smile
But you seem so steady as I am burning inside
I feel the warmth as I have fallen too deep
Now I know that you know me though I’ve been told to believe
It’s just a kiss
For a kiss

Close your eyes and we can float away
All alone through this crowded place
Maybe you and I can find some time
Till forever or more
So baby move your lips
Come close I need this kiss
No time to fake I just can’t explain

The sweetest touch that I just can’t get enough
Could it get any better than this I’m holding my breath
For a kiss 2

“So?”

Baekhyun hums noncommittally from where he’s sitting on a revolving high stool by Chanyeol’s mini bar. He’s always complaining about how these things are ‘discriminatory to vertically challenged people,’ but everyone knows he secretly likes it because he can swing his legs back and forth while he’s perched on them.

Chanyeol’s eyes dart from Baekhyun to Jongdae who is comfortably reclined on the La-Z-Boy. The expression on his face is equally unreadable.

Chanyeol huffs impatiently. “Look, if you’re going to barge unannounced into a guy’s apartment at ass-o’clock and demand to hear his demo, which he specifically said was not ready yet, the least you fuckers can do is give a constructive opinion.”

“Alright, alright, calm down.” Baekhyun holds up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Truthfully,” He props his elbows on the countertop and rests his chin on folded hands. “It’s not awful.”

“Mhmm.” Jongdae nods, stretching his arms over his head.

“It’s... pretty amazing, actually.”

“Yup.” Jongdae snaps the La-Z-Boy back to its original state and leans forward, arms on his knees.

“But what we would like to know is-”

The two exchange a look before Jongdae wags his eyebrows and goes right for the kill.

“When do we meet him?”

Chanyeol’s expression morphs into a deep scowl when it dawns on him that he isn’t really being robbed of precious sleep because of ‘work emergency’, as Baekhyun had so theatrically put it.

“I should have known,” he grumbles under his breath as he folds down the MacBook Pro on the coffee table. He’s not very forgiving at 7 AM, especially after he’s just pulled an all-nighter to finish the song.

Baekhyun sniggers, spinning around on the stool once.

“You should have brought Yixing-sshi back with you! We need to thank him for yanking you out of your funk.”

Chanyeol sinks back into the couch with a heavy sigh.

“I would have loved that,” he says. “But, really, some things are worth waiting for.”

Chanyeol names the song ‘Kiss’ and makes sure to credit Yixing when the song is released as part of a popular duo’s second full-length record. The single takes the charts by storm and within weeks, it’s being played absolutely everywhere. His competing composition back in high school might not have gotten first place then, but this, right here, is more than good enough to make up for it.

He’s out with Baekhyun and Jongdae, celebrating an all-kill on the digital charts over dinner at a new restaurant in the Gangdong district, when he gets a phone call from a hospital in Gangnam. They tell him that Yura has been admitted for preterm labor symptoms. Panicked, he quickly gets up to leave, but his friends refuse to let him drive in that state.

Chanyeol fidgets in the passenger seat of Jongdae’s car while Baekhyun takes to spouting random things to try and pacify him from the back seat.

The second he’s dropped off at the entrance of the hospital, Chanyeol immediately runs to the reception. He might have slammed his hands on the desk a bit harder than intended, startling the nurses, but a lapse of proper manners is the least of his concerns right now.

“Hi,” he blows out, struggling to catch his breath. “I got a call. They said my sister has been admitted. I’m-”

“Chanyeol.”

He whips around at the call of his name and freezes on the spot when he sees Yixing standing there in the hallway. Yejun is curled up against his chest, sound asleep. He’d been so worried when he got the call that it didn’t occur to him to wonder why his sister is in Gangnam in the first place. And now this-

“Why are you-why is Yejun-what-” He draws in a breath to try to steady his nerves. He hates that he can’t seem to form a single coherent thought. He’d hate the shit-eating grin on Yixing’s face too if only he didn’t miss that face so much.

Yixing approaches him slowly, his expression bearing none of the shock that’s all over Chanyeol’s face.

“Your sister is fine. She’s sleeping now, though. She needs to rest. Come on.” He tilts his head to the right of the hall. Chanyeol follows him down to the exit door which apparently leads to the back garden. It’s practically deserted this time of the night. Yixing stops in front of one of the stone benches and gestures for Chanyeol to sit down.

“Here, let me.” He opens his arms to unburden Yixing of Yejun’s weight, but Yixing shakes his head.

“It’s okay. I don’t want to wake him. He’d been crying the whole way here.”

Instead of taking a seat, Chanyeol steps back until he’s leaning against a lamp post. The coldness of the steel bleeds through his shirt and spreads along the length of his spine.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, his tone a mix of awe and confusion and some hints of shock, still.

Yixing has the grace to look sheepish. “We were supposed to surprise you.”

Chanyeol chortles at that. “Well, you sure did!”

He might have raised his voice a little too much because Yejun begins to stir. The two adults gape at each other in quiet panic. Chanyeol holds his breath as Yixing lightly rocks the toddler while gently patting down his back in a soothing motion. Right away, Yejun calms.

Chanyeol blinks, amazed.

“You’re good at this,” he comments softly.

“I used to take a lot of babysitting jobs. I spent a bit of time at the pediatric ward, too, at one point,” Yixing says. His eyes are bright, a soft smile denting his cheeks, and Chanyeol’s heart stutters.

“I flew in the other day then I went straight to Jinhae,” Yixing tells him. “I knew you weren’t going to be there but I wanted to visit Yura noona and Yejun. Also, I didn’t have your address. Or your number,” Yixing sounds so exasperated with himself that Chanyeol couldn’t help but smile.

“Instead of just giving me your details, she decided to tag along. I tried to talk her against it, but she’s very stubborn.”

Chanyeol snorts. “Understatement of the century.”

Yixing laughs quietly as he continues to gently sway the sleeping toddler from side to side. Chanyeol takes a mental photograph of this moment, stores it deep in his memory for days when he needs something to make him smile.

“How is she doing?”

“She’s okay, but she might have to be restricted to bed rest for the next three weeks,” says the doctor. “I think your brother-in-law was supposed to come back from Japan in two days, but he’s taking the last flight tonight instead. Anything earlier is fully booked, apparently. Your mom’s flying in from New York, too.”

Chanyeol nods, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude and relief suddenly washes over him.

“Thank you,” he says quietly. He touches Yejun’s curled arm with a light hand, careful not to rouse him. “Thank you for taking care of them.”

“Well, I am a doctor,” Yixing says, smiling. “It’s my job. But more than that, they’re your family, so-”

He worries his lower lip bashfully; a dusting of color blooms on his cheeks. It’s terribly adorable. Chanyeol wants to kiss him so badly, but he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself.

“Congratulations on the song, by the way. I heard it was a hit.”

“Yeah. Thanks for getting it started,” Chanyeol grins. “And congratulations on your contribution to the music scene. Ten years late, but hey, better late than never.”

Yixing struggles not to be so loud when he laughs. “I know. That took long enough.”

He bites down on his lower lip and Chanyeol really wishes he’d stop doing that.

“I have one problem, though.” Yixing looks nervous for some reason. Somehow a bit of it rubs off on Chanyeol.

“What?”

Chanyeol sees the doctor’s adam’s apple bob as he swallows. And then he takes a deep breath-

“I’m starting my fellowship here next week, and this is all so sudden because I didn’t think I’d get in, and I didn’t get the chance to look for a place to stay before coming, so I was wondering if you happen to know a place that I can rent?” Yixing rambles in a single breath.

Chanyeol’s head is swimming. He’s not sure he’s getting any of this right.

“Did you just say,” he starts taking slow steps forward and he doesn’t even realize it. “You’re taking your fellowship… here?”

Yixing’s lips twitch at the corners. “Yes.”

“Here-as in, in Seoul?”

“That’s right.” Yixing is biting his bottom lip again, perhaps to keep his grin from splitting his face in half.

Chanyeol stares at the doctor, unblinking. He must look really ridiculous, though, because Yixing is laughing now - still subdued, because he doesn’t want to wake Yejun. But nothing stops him from stepping closer and tugging Chanyeol down by a fistful of his shirt. It’s a chaste kiss, a quick brush of lips, but it’s enough to make Chanyeol wonder how it’s possible to fall in love with the same person over and over again.

Yixing is giggling like a kid when he pulls away. Chanyeol is, too. High school all over again, but much better, he thinks as he tries to keep his heart from bursting out of his chest.

“My bed can fit a second person, but I don’t know if you can afford the rent,” Chanyeol teases as his arms snake around the doctor’s waist. He takes care not to squish Yejun as his hands slowly skim the curve of Yixing’s back.

“I can cook,” Yixing offers eagerly, to which Chanyeol responds with a noncommittal hum.

“Try again.”

Yixing squints, licks his lips suggestively. “Blowjob in exchange for bed space. How about it?”

“Zhang Yixing,” Chanyeol fake-gasps. “There is a child in your arms.”

Yixing cocks an eyebrow at him. “So you don’t want it?”

“I didn’t say that,” he mumbles, deflating like a chastised puppy as the pads of his fingers trace the faint outline of Yixing’s spine through his shirt. Still so warm, he thinks. He’s missed this so much.

“Are you really staying?” Chanyeol asks softly. “I was fully prepared to wait much longer, you know. I still am.”

Yixing reaches up to lightly tug at the outer shell of his ear. Chanyeol smiles because he’s really missed that, too.

“No more waiting,” he tells him, solemnly. He lets his hand slide down Chanyeol’s shoulder until it rests just above his rapidly beating heart. “But I’m really not kidding about needing a place to stay,” he says in a voice that’s bordering on whiny and Chanyeol’s shoulders shake with muted laughter.

“Fine, you can stay with me,” he concedes. He drops a quick kiss on Yixing’s mouth. “Stay forever.”

Yixing hooks an arm around his neck, chasing his lips again before he can straighten to full height.

And then he whispers against Chanyeol’s smile.

“Okay.”

---

1 The Sun Ain’t Shining No More - The Asteroids Galaxy Tour
2 Kiss - TC & Sam Kang
3 “I love you”
4 “Jiāyoú” / “Keep going!”

+ one more song
and another
♥

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