[exo] clover - i
Title: Clover
Rating: R
Wordcount: ~12k
Pairing: BaekYeol
Summary: Baekhyun was, is, to Chanyeol, back then and even now, his everything.
*
They say a four leaf clover will bring you luck - good luck, and happiness. So look, look hard and when you find one keep it by your side, keep it close to your heart.
*
The first time they had met was when Chanyeol was on his last shift on his last day of his last summer vacation job before University. He’s in his orange delivery uniform, complete with his smiley face cap and gloves, and the item he’s supposed to deliver to Mr. B.H Byun of apartment 707 is leaning against the pillar - a huge and rather heavy box that comes up to about his torso. Chanyeol checks the label with a frown, wondering what exactly the huge rectangular thing in the box was.
Oh, he thinks, when he sees the neat writing on the pink label. A keyboard.
A very heavy keyboard which he has to carry up seven flights of stairs.
Uh oh.
He stands there, rubbing his chin as he Hmms and plans his route up to minimalise the possibility of him actually dropping the keyboard and getting his paycheck reduced to a single digit. It’s a rather old building about ten minutes away from his new dorm, and its quite small - seven floors with seven units on each, starting with the first on the right hand side and ending with the seventh near the stairs. There’s a little flight up that leads to the rooftop, but Chanyeol’s attention falls back on the corner apartment of the top floor when its occupant opens the door, stacked boxes obscuring his face.
Wow, Chanyeol thinks as he tries to blink out the late afternoon light, watching as the little figure squats and puts the boxes down. He looks tiny.
“Chanyeol! What are you doing? Stop spacing out and carry it up so I can go home already!” His shift buddy yells at him from the driver’s seat of the truck, and Chanyeol jumps, trying not to trip as he gets back to work.
He’s at about the three quarter mark between the fifth and sixth floor when he pauses and puts the huge box down, deciding to give his arms and back a break while he bemoans the fact that this wasn't one of those fancy new buildings with things called elevators in them. Chanyeol’s about to lift the box again when a charming voice breaks his string of weak curses and he freezes at the sound, looking up to find the tiny boy from before staring back at him.
“Hi. Hello!” Tiny Boy starts, scratching the back of his neck nervously. He looks a tad bit shy, chewing on his bottom lip while he waves awkwardly and Chanyeol can’t help himself when his mind goes Cuuute. “That keyboard belongs to me. It’s heavy and I could sort of hear you from upstairs so. I thought. Erm. Do you need some help?”
Tiny Boy gestures wildly at the box when Chanyeol just blinks back dumbly at him.
“Oh. OH NO NO NO NO!” He raises two hands and flails, picking the box back up easily when Tiny Boy tilts his head to the side and raises an eyebrow. “Delivering is my job so I should deliver! Since. You paid for it and all so. Erm. Let me carry it up for you.”
Chanyeol tries to stop himself from being flustered when he barges up the stairs and almost hits Tiny Boy in the head with the box when he turns. “IM SO SORRY.”
Tiny Boy just laughs at him and hops up a few steps ahead of Chanyeol, holding on to one end of the box as he guides Chanyeol up the last flight of stairs. They make it to Tiny Boy’s apartment without any further injuries or embarrassment and Chanyeol heaves a sigh of relief when they put the keyboard down on the table inside. The walls are bare and Chanyeol spots remnants of bubble wrap and plastic cling wrap around the floor, amidst half opened cardboard boxes and unopened ones with words on the sides. Books, He reads off one, Clothes, Cooking stuff.
“I just moved in,” Tiny Boy explains when he catches Chanyeol looking. “Looks so bare doesn’t it?”
“Thank you,” He says, smiling while he peels at the tape sealing the box shut, and Chanyeol catches himself staring a little too hard at the playful twinkle in his eyes, the way his lips curved up to reveal rows of white teeth, the little mole he had at the corner of his mouth. Tiny Boy isn’t exactly that tiny, he realises when he takes a step forward and looks down cross eyed at the top of his head, which was actually at just about his eyelevel.
“My name is Park Chan Yeol,” He blurts out a little too eagerly, taking off his cap and fiddling with it when the silence becomes awkward. “Thank you for using Happy Delivery! I hope you enjoyed our service.”
Tiny Boy just stares at him when he bows, eyes widening when Chanyeol grins and slips the cap onto his head, petting him once just because he can. “See you around, Tiny Boy.”
He grins once more before he turns and darts through the maze of boxes and out the door, not daring to look back at the other who just stands there frozen, blinking.
He doesn’t see the way Tiny Boy’s cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink, doesn’t see the way his hands move up to feel the cap and the embroidered smiley face logo on his head.
Chanyeol’s about to get into the passenger seat of the truck when he hears his name and turns back to look up at apartment 707 of the building.
“PARK CHAN YEOL!!!!!” Tiny Boy is waving to him from the walkway, orange cap still on his head. “I’M A HUNDRED AND SEVENTY FOUR CENTIMETERS TALL AND MY NAME IS BYUN. BAEK. HYUN!!”
“I AM NOT TINY!” He yells down at Chanyeol as the other chuckles, waving back happily through the wound down window.
Byun Baek Hyun He mouths quietly to himself as his partner shoots him a weird look, waving one last time before the truck rounds the corner and Baekhyun is out of sight. Cuuuuuuuteeeee.
Little did he know, that was his first glimpse at his future home - the place he’d come to love as much as the tiny boy that he never knew would become such a huge part of his life.
*
Chanyeol doesn’t meet Baekhyun again until a couple of months later, at the end of the term.
It’s opening night of the winter exhibition and they’re about to close when Chanyeol notices a hooded figure slip through the glass doors of the gallery, bringing with him a cold breeze that sends chills down his spine. The rest of his course mates have already left and he’s in the middle of turning off the spotlights, balancing on the third step of a ladder when the small figure approaches him, looking a little flustered.
“Sorry,” He calls out to the strangely familiar stranger that’s bundled up in a coat that looks way too thin for the chilly weather. “But we’re already closing, maybe you could come back - ”
“- Tomorrow.” He blinks down at Tiny Boy, who looks even tinier from his vantage point on the ladder, turning the lights back on like he hadn’t just turned them off a minute ago.
“Baekhyun!” He exclaims a little too loudly, his voice echoing through the space when Baekhyun puts his hood down and takes off his hat, waving back amusedly while Chanyeol flails on the ladder. “Why are you here?”
“I’m sorry,” he apologises, while he digs around his pocket for tissues. His nose is red, Chanyeol notices, and his cheeks rosy from the cold. “Do you need help closing up? I was on the way back from rehearsals when I saw the poster and your name was there and -“
He pauses to sneeze, holding a tissue to his nose.
“ - I thought I’d be able to catch you if I came here and it says it closes at eleven and its already eleven thirty but I ran cause the lights were still on and I’m glad I did because - ”
He pauses once more to sneeze again, sniffling, and Chanyeol feels his heart do a little flip at the cute.
“- You’re still here.” Baekhyun ends, taking a few steps back so Chanyeol has space to climb back down.
“I found you.” He grins, and Chanyeol grins back when Baekhyun sneezes again, groaning at the cold.
“You did.” Chanyeol chuckles, grabbing his scarf from his bag and wrapping it around Baekhyun’s neck.“I was going to surprise you at your recital thing but it looks like you beat me to it, Tiny Boy.”
“You were?” Baekhyun blinks back, dopey smile on his face and Chanyeol has to struggle to keep himself from staring too hard at the way his eyes curved into half moons and his lips quirked, pink and soft and entrancing. He doesn’t trust himself to speak so he nods instead, poking Baekhyun in the cheek when he can’t resist any longer.
“I think you missed the last bus,” Chanyeol says dumbly when he hears the tinkle of keys coming from the entrance. “And the security guard is here.”
“We should pack up shouldn’t we,” Baekhyun mumbles softly, and Chanyeol thinks he can hear a tinge of sadness in his voice, blinking in surprise back down at the top of Baekhyun’s head as the shorter one steadies the ladder for him while he climbed up to turn off the lights again.
The guard shows up right then and chases them out, muttering grumpily about how late it was and Baekhyun and Chanyeol stand outside awkwardly while the guard locked up the doors and ambled away.
“Well - “
“So - “
They both start, glancing at each other awkwardly while Chanyeol shifts nervously on his feet.
“Well.” He looks at Baekhyun hopefully, noticing the way he snuggles into Chanyeol’s scarf, burying his nose in it. “I’m kinda hungry…”
“Do you - “
“We should - “
They both burst into a fit of giggles then, stopping only when Baekhyun sneezes and shivers, and Chanyeol takes off his own outercoat and drapes it around Baekhyun’s shoulders.
“You look really cold,” He smiles at Baekhyun, holding out one of the sleeves so Baekhyun can stick his arm through. His coat looks much too large on Baekhyun’s smaller frame but Baekhyun slides his arm through appreciatively, biting his lip when Chanyeol doesn’t let go of his hand. He squeezes back before intertwining his fingers with Chanyeol’s, tugging on the taller one’s arm.
“I know a good place for Ramyeon,” Baekhyun grins shyly while swinging Chanyeol’s hand back and forth. “It’s cheap and open 24 hours a day.”
“Okay,” Chanyeol nods happily, loving the feeling of Baekhyun’s smaller hand in his, the way their palms fit together, how Baekhyun had twined his own fingers with his without hesitation. He follows obediently when Baekhyun pulls him gently along, giggling at the dazed look on his face, watching Chanyeol from the corner of his eye, and though Chanyoel’s hoodie is probably insufficient for the cold, he’s sure his heart has never felt as warm as it does right now, trailing after Baekhyun as they trod through the snow.
*
They bump into each other more than a couple of times at the local Laundromat, initially due to pure coincidence and subsequently because of adjusted schedules and changes in habit that they both consciously make so that they’d accidentally bump into each other exactly once a week, every Friday night, fifteen minutes past eight.
Baekhyun likes to call these meetings their laundry dates. Chanyeol just thinks about how strange it is that it feels so natural to know all about Baekhyun’s undergarment preferences when he’s only known him for about three months. But it doesn’t bother either of them, and they work together peacefully as they sort their laundry out on the table, untangling Chanyeol’s clothes from Baekhyun’s, pulling sleeves and pant legs apart.
Three pairs of pink. Two Navies. Black, grey, light blue - all one hundred percent cotton.
Chanyeol hums to himself while he folds Baekhyun’s boxers, stacking them neatly before sliding them across the counter. “Yours, Baekkie.”
Baekhyun smiles in thanks before handing him his own - three blue, one red, two black, one pink. One hundred percent cotton.
They talk about silly things while they sit on the bench together and watch their laundry spin in the machines, playing footsie and asking questions. Chanyeol likes how Baekhyun scoots closer when he’s sleepy, leaning against Chanyeol’s side comfortably while his head rests on Chanyeol’s shoulder, lashes casting pretty shadows on his cheeks as he naps.
The first time he kisses Baekhyun (or perhaps, the first time Baekhyun makes him kiss him), is in the doorway of apartment 707, exactly five seconds after Baekhyun opens the door and grins at him, leaning against the wooden doorframe as he blatantly flaunts his neck and thighs, dressed in one of Chanyeol’s oversized t-shirts, collar bone and shoulder exposed, and a pair of Chanyeol’s black boxers (that they had apparently mixed up while sorting, which is the reason why he’s standing there gaping while Baekhyun smirks at him that infuriating smirk that he loves).
It’s not his fault, he thinks, when he throws all self control out of the very large and taunting window and kisses Baekhyun right then and there like he’s wanted to the entire time, because Baekhyun is tiptoeing and Baekhyun is pulling him down by his collar and Byun Baek Hyun is standing in the doorway wearing nothing but Park Chan Yeol’s clothes.
Chanyeol never gets his shirt (and boxers) back.
*
“Move in with me,” Baekhyun says softly into his ear one night while they’re both cuddled up in bed, Chanyeol’s head cradled in Baekhyun’s arms. “Move in with me, Chanyeol.”
He wonders if he’s dreaming when he feels the cold press of metal on his palm, Baekhyun’s fingers closing his own over a key. The key to Baekhyun’s apartment.
“I made you a spare,” Baekhyun starts, eyes searching Chanyeol’s, and Chanyeol can hear his heart go thump, thump thump. “Stay with me?”
He answers with a nod, the corners of his eyes crinkling, tucking Baekhyun’s hair behind his ears when the other relaxes, sighing in relief before he leans down to kiss him on the nose.
“When can I move in?” He asks, grinning, and Baekhyun laughs, tangling his legs with Chanyeol’s under the comforter.
“Anytime,” He answers, basking in the warmth of Chanyeol’s body pressed so close to his, larger one blanketing his own smaller frame. “You practically live here already.”
Baekhyun takes Chanyeol’s hand and presses it to his heart.
*
Their first time together had been nothing short of a wonderful, chaotic mess.
They manage to get stains all over Baekhyun’s sheets, giggling madly as they tumbled around the tiny bed, the blanket tossed hastily aside. Chanyeol even falls off twice when he touches that sensitive spot behind Baekhyun’s neck and the other kicks him out of reflex, throwing the lankier one off balance. Baekhyun had apologized quickly, laughing uncontrollably at the hilarity of their situation, kissing Chanyeol sweetly when he climbs back on to the bed, pouting.
“I’m sorry,” He giggles while Chanyeol hides his face in the crook of Baekhyun’s neck, embarrassed. “Are you okay?”
Chanyeol nods silently before turning to nibble on Baekhyun’s ear, letting his fingertips trail slowly down Baekhyun’s ribcage, tracing the ridges of bone and flesh. Baekhyun’s loud, slightly louder than he usually is, and Chanyeol tugs him closer when they’re done, ignoring the discomfort of being hot and sticky in favour of holding Baekhyun, if only just for a while. Baekhyun curls into his side comfortably, whining about being gross and icky but snuggling up anyway. “Five minutes” he had said, stifling a yawn as their legs tangle together in the small space.
Chanyeol’s already dozing off when Baekhyun gasps and bolts upright, panicking and elbowing Chanyeol in the chin as he struggles to get up.
“The sheets! Chanyeol the sheets!” He shrieks dramatically, rolling Chanyeol’s heavier body off the bed.
“Huh?” The taller one blinks dumbly back at him from the floor, clambering over to help clean Baekhyun up before grabbing his hoodie from the floor and pulling it quickly over Baekhyun’s head, tugging down the oversized sweatshirt so that the hems reach just past the middle of Baekhyun’s thighs. He gets dressed himself while Baekhyun limps gingerly around the bed, untucking the sheets from the corners of the mattress.
“We only have one spare set. And we just soiled this one.” Baekhyun wails, pulling on shorts carefully. Chanyeol grabs Baekhyun’s wallet from the nightstand and digs around his backpack for his, emptying its contents on the nightstand. “We don't have money for new sheets!”
“Do we have enough for the laundromat?” Baekhyun asks, peering over his shoulder as he counts the coins and puts them on top of the two folded thousand won notes.
“… I don’t think so,” Chanyeol gulps, digging through his wallet again in hopes that maybe, just maybe, a ten thousand won note would appear.
“Hand wash it then!” Baekhyun squeals, shoving the balled up sheets into his arms. “Go up to the roof, there isn’t enough space in here. I’ll bring the tub and detergent up in a bit.”
Chanyeol nods and scurries out of their apartment, hurrying up the stairs to the open rooftop of their block, unpacking various bottles of stain removers and fabric softeners from the resealable pack they kept hidden in one of the corners. He isn’t sure which ones he needs so he takes them all along to the tap on the other side - he’ll just let Baekhyun choose.
He’s squatting by the wash area, about start the water running when he sees Baekhyun reaching the top of the steps, wincing slightly when he shifts to walk. Chanyeol meets him in the middle, taking the tub and soap from him, trailing behind him slowly as he limps awkwardly to the tap and curls up on the floor on his side, far enough so he won’t get wet. Chanyeol pats his head gently, running his fingers through Baekhyun’s hair as the shorter one pouts back at him while they wait for the tub to fill up.
“Put in those two,” Baekhyun directs once the sheets are soaked in the water, pointing out the bottles that Chanyeol should use. “ And that one goes directly onto the…stains.”
“Okay. Could you pass me that bottle? I can’t reach it,” Chanyeol asks, stretching out his arm in vain for the stain remover he had left on the other side.
Baekhyun hmmphs and shakes his head, no. “Get it yourself you bum.”
“You did this to me,” He smirks, gesturing at his own messed up hair, all matted and sticking up in various directions, and then to his face, still pink and flushed and glowy from before, lastly pointing at his own butt. “You should take responsibility for it and clean. On your own. While I laze around.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, Baekkie,” Chanyeol chuckles with a huge dopey grin plastered onto his face, hopping over Baekhyun to get to the bottle. “Half of this mess is because of you too.”
“Just shut up and scrub, Yeol,” He bites out weakly, turning away to hide his embarrassed face, rolling over onto his tummy.
“Hehe,” Chanyeol smiles quietly to himself as he gets on with the washing, moving away so that the water doesn’t splash onto Baekhyun’s still form. He makes quick work of it once he’s concentrating, draping it over their makeshift clothesline to dry. He joins Baekhyun on the ground and a glance to the side tells him that Baekhyun’s fallen asleep, resting his cheek on the back of his palm. He stirs a little when Chanyeol turns over onto his back and tries to shift the sleeping boy to rest on him, the smaller one making himself comfortable while Chanyeol’s hands move to linger at the small of his back.
“Chanyeol?” Baekhyun mumbles groggily. “I don’t think I want to move yet.”
“Does it hurt a lot?” Chanyeol asks softly, fingers pressed into the fabric of Baekhyun’s shirt.
“I’ll be fine. I don’t think I’ll be as …mobile as I usually am though. For a while.”
“Oh,” Chanyeol tenses, squeezing Baekhyun a little tighter. “I’ll help out.”
“You’d better,” Baekhyun chuckles, reaching up to brush away Chanyeol’s messy bangs from his forehead. “My silly Chanyeol.”
They lie there like that - still, together, in the lazy summer heat, dozing off in the bright light and calm wind, listening to the distant twinkle of wind chimes and the closeness of each other breathing - just there under endless shades of blue, under soft, puffy clouds, and Chanyeol never realized it back then but those days, he swears, those days were glorious.
*
The last time he gets to kiss Baekhyun good night is on a Sunday, a quick peck on each eyelid while the older one sleeps. He’s wearing his usual sleeping attire - one of Chanyeol’s old shirts and one of the many pairs of boxers he’s stolen from him, tummy exposed from where the shirt had ridden up. He mumbles Chanyeol’s name when he tugs the shirt back down and his arms wrap around his waist, and Chanyeol thinks about the matching pair of simple wooden rings he’s kept in his toolbox, one half of which he’s been planning to give to Baekhyun for months, but hasn't found the courage to yet.
Chanyeol wonders why Baekhyun is frowning, and he frowns as well, holding him closer, trying to chase away the nightmares. He wonders what Baekhyun sees in his dreams while he tosses and turns, what makes him cling to Chanyeol the way he does on nights where he accidentally wakes the other up, hugging him tightly while the smaller one trembles silently in his arms, whispering comforting words into his ears while he tries his best to convince Baekhyun that everything will be alright.
part: ii
Rating: R
Wordcount: ~12k
Pairing: BaekYeol
Summary: Baekhyun was, is, to Chanyeol, back then and even now, his everything.
*
They say a four leaf clover will bring you luck - good luck, and happiness. So look, look hard and when you find one keep it by your side, keep it close to your heart.
*
The first time they had met was when Chanyeol was on his last shift on his last day of his last summer vacation job before University. He’s in his orange delivery uniform, complete with his smiley face cap and gloves, and the item he’s supposed to deliver to Mr. B.H Byun of apartment 707 is leaning against the pillar - a huge and rather heavy box that comes up to about his torso. Chanyeol checks the label with a frown, wondering what exactly the huge rectangular thing in the box was.
Oh, he thinks, when he sees the neat writing on the pink label. A keyboard.
A very heavy keyboard which he has to carry up seven flights of stairs.
Uh oh.
He stands there, rubbing his chin as he Hmms and plans his route up to minimalise the possibility of him actually dropping the keyboard and getting his paycheck reduced to a single digit. It’s a rather old building about ten minutes away from his new dorm, and its quite small - seven floors with seven units on each, starting with the first on the right hand side and ending with the seventh near the stairs. There’s a little flight up that leads to the rooftop, but Chanyeol’s attention falls back on the corner apartment of the top floor when its occupant opens the door, stacked boxes obscuring his face.
Wow, Chanyeol thinks as he tries to blink out the late afternoon light, watching as the little figure squats and puts the boxes down. He looks tiny.
“Chanyeol! What are you doing? Stop spacing out and carry it up so I can go home already!” His shift buddy yells at him from the driver’s seat of the truck, and Chanyeol jumps, trying not to trip as he gets back to work.
He’s at about the three quarter mark between the fifth and sixth floor when he pauses and puts the huge box down, deciding to give his arms and back a break while he bemoans the fact that this wasn't one of those fancy new buildings with things called elevators in them. Chanyeol’s about to lift the box again when a charming voice breaks his string of weak curses and he freezes at the sound, looking up to find the tiny boy from before staring back at him.
“Hi. Hello!” Tiny Boy starts, scratching the back of his neck nervously. He looks a tad bit shy, chewing on his bottom lip while he waves awkwardly and Chanyeol can’t help himself when his mind goes Cuuute. “That keyboard belongs to me. It’s heavy and I could sort of hear you from upstairs so. I thought. Erm. Do you need some help?”
Tiny Boy gestures wildly at the box when Chanyeol just blinks back dumbly at him.
“Oh. OH NO NO NO NO!” He raises two hands and flails, picking the box back up easily when Tiny Boy tilts his head to the side and raises an eyebrow. “Delivering is my job so I should deliver! Since. You paid for it and all so. Erm. Let me carry it up for you.”
Chanyeol tries to stop himself from being flustered when he barges up the stairs and almost hits Tiny Boy in the head with the box when he turns. “IM SO SORRY.”
Tiny Boy just laughs at him and hops up a few steps ahead of Chanyeol, holding on to one end of the box as he guides Chanyeol up the last flight of stairs. They make it to Tiny Boy’s apartment without any further injuries or embarrassment and Chanyeol heaves a sigh of relief when they put the keyboard down on the table inside. The walls are bare and Chanyeol spots remnants of bubble wrap and plastic cling wrap around the floor, amidst half opened cardboard boxes and unopened ones with words on the sides. Books, He reads off one, Clothes, Cooking stuff.
“I just moved in,” Tiny Boy explains when he catches Chanyeol looking. “Looks so bare doesn’t it?”
“Thank you,” He says, smiling while he peels at the tape sealing the box shut, and Chanyeol catches himself staring a little too hard at the playful twinkle in his eyes, the way his lips curved up to reveal rows of white teeth, the little mole he had at the corner of his mouth. Tiny Boy isn’t exactly that tiny, he realises when he takes a step forward and looks down cross eyed at the top of his head, which was actually at just about his eyelevel.
“My name is Park Chan Yeol,” He blurts out a little too eagerly, taking off his cap and fiddling with it when the silence becomes awkward. “Thank you for using Happy Delivery! I hope you enjoyed our service.”
Tiny Boy just stares at him when he bows, eyes widening when Chanyeol grins and slips the cap onto his head, petting him once just because he can. “See you around, Tiny Boy.”
He grins once more before he turns and darts through the maze of boxes and out the door, not daring to look back at the other who just stands there frozen, blinking.
He doesn’t see the way Tiny Boy’s cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink, doesn’t see the way his hands move up to feel the cap and the embroidered smiley face logo on his head.
Chanyeol’s about to get into the passenger seat of the truck when he hears his name and turns back to look up at apartment 707 of the building.
“PARK CHAN YEOL!!!!!” Tiny Boy is waving to him from the walkway, orange cap still on his head. “I’M A HUNDRED AND SEVENTY FOUR CENTIMETERS TALL AND MY NAME IS BYUN. BAEK. HYUN!!”
“I AM NOT TINY!” He yells down at Chanyeol as the other chuckles, waving back happily through the wound down window.
Byun Baek Hyun He mouths quietly to himself as his partner shoots him a weird look, waving one last time before the truck rounds the corner and Baekhyun is out of sight. Cuuuuuuuteeeee.
Little did he know, that was his first glimpse at his future home - the place he’d come to love as much as the tiny boy that he never knew would become such a huge part of his life.
*
Chanyeol doesn’t meet Baekhyun again until a couple of months later, at the end of the term.
It’s opening night of the winter exhibition and they’re about to close when Chanyeol notices a hooded figure slip through the glass doors of the gallery, bringing with him a cold breeze that sends chills down his spine. The rest of his course mates have already left and he’s in the middle of turning off the spotlights, balancing on the third step of a ladder when the small figure approaches him, looking a little flustered.
“Sorry,” He calls out to the strangely familiar stranger that’s bundled up in a coat that looks way too thin for the chilly weather. “But we’re already closing, maybe you could come back - ”
“- Tomorrow.” He blinks down at Tiny Boy, who looks even tinier from his vantage point on the ladder, turning the lights back on like he hadn’t just turned them off a minute ago.
“Baekhyun!” He exclaims a little too loudly, his voice echoing through the space when Baekhyun puts his hood down and takes off his hat, waving back amusedly while Chanyeol flails on the ladder. “Why are you here?”
“I’m sorry,” he apologises, while he digs around his pocket for tissues. His nose is red, Chanyeol notices, and his cheeks rosy from the cold. “Do you need help closing up? I was on the way back from rehearsals when I saw the poster and your name was there and -“
He pauses to sneeze, holding a tissue to his nose.
“ - I thought I’d be able to catch you if I came here and it says it closes at eleven and its already eleven thirty but I ran cause the lights were still on and I’m glad I did because - ”
He pauses once more to sneeze again, sniffling, and Chanyeol feels his heart do a little flip at the cute.
“- You’re still here.” Baekhyun ends, taking a few steps back so Chanyeol has space to climb back down.
“I found you.” He grins, and Chanyeol grins back when Baekhyun sneezes again, groaning at the cold.
“You did.” Chanyeol chuckles, grabbing his scarf from his bag and wrapping it around Baekhyun’s neck.“I was going to surprise you at your recital thing but it looks like you beat me to it, Tiny Boy.”
“You were?” Baekhyun blinks back, dopey smile on his face and Chanyeol has to struggle to keep himself from staring too hard at the way his eyes curved into half moons and his lips quirked, pink and soft and entrancing. He doesn’t trust himself to speak so he nods instead, poking Baekhyun in the cheek when he can’t resist any longer.
“I think you missed the last bus,” Chanyeol says dumbly when he hears the tinkle of keys coming from the entrance. “And the security guard is here.”
“We should pack up shouldn’t we,” Baekhyun mumbles softly, and Chanyeol thinks he can hear a tinge of sadness in his voice, blinking in surprise back down at the top of Baekhyun’s head as the shorter one steadies the ladder for him while he climbed up to turn off the lights again.
The guard shows up right then and chases them out, muttering grumpily about how late it was and Baekhyun and Chanyeol stand outside awkwardly while the guard locked up the doors and ambled away.
“Well - “
“So - “
They both start, glancing at each other awkwardly while Chanyeol shifts nervously on his feet.
“Well.” He looks at Baekhyun hopefully, noticing the way he snuggles into Chanyeol’s scarf, burying his nose in it. “I’m kinda hungry…”
“Do you - “
“We should - “
They both burst into a fit of giggles then, stopping only when Baekhyun sneezes and shivers, and Chanyeol takes off his own outercoat and drapes it around Baekhyun’s shoulders.
“You look really cold,” He smiles at Baekhyun, holding out one of the sleeves so Baekhyun can stick his arm through. His coat looks much too large on Baekhyun’s smaller frame but Baekhyun slides his arm through appreciatively, biting his lip when Chanyeol doesn’t let go of his hand. He squeezes back before intertwining his fingers with Chanyeol’s, tugging on the taller one’s arm.
“I know a good place for Ramyeon,” Baekhyun grins shyly while swinging Chanyeol’s hand back and forth. “It’s cheap and open 24 hours a day.”
“Okay,” Chanyeol nods happily, loving the feeling of Baekhyun’s smaller hand in his, the way their palms fit together, how Baekhyun had twined his own fingers with his without hesitation. He follows obediently when Baekhyun pulls him gently along, giggling at the dazed look on his face, watching Chanyeol from the corner of his eye, and though Chanyoel’s hoodie is probably insufficient for the cold, he’s sure his heart has never felt as warm as it does right now, trailing after Baekhyun as they trod through the snow.
*
They bump into each other more than a couple of times at the local Laundromat, initially due to pure coincidence and subsequently because of adjusted schedules and changes in habit that they both consciously make so that they’d accidentally bump into each other exactly once a week, every Friday night, fifteen minutes past eight.
Baekhyun likes to call these meetings their laundry dates. Chanyeol just thinks about how strange it is that it feels so natural to know all about Baekhyun’s undergarment preferences when he’s only known him for about three months. But it doesn’t bother either of them, and they work together peacefully as they sort their laundry out on the table, untangling Chanyeol’s clothes from Baekhyun’s, pulling sleeves and pant legs apart.
Three pairs of pink. Two Navies. Black, grey, light blue - all one hundred percent cotton.
Chanyeol hums to himself while he folds Baekhyun’s boxers, stacking them neatly before sliding them across the counter. “Yours, Baekkie.”
Baekhyun smiles in thanks before handing him his own - three blue, one red, two black, one pink. One hundred percent cotton.
They talk about silly things while they sit on the bench together and watch their laundry spin in the machines, playing footsie and asking questions. Chanyeol likes how Baekhyun scoots closer when he’s sleepy, leaning against Chanyeol’s side comfortably while his head rests on Chanyeol’s shoulder, lashes casting pretty shadows on his cheeks as he naps.
The first time he kisses Baekhyun (or perhaps, the first time Baekhyun makes him kiss him), is in the doorway of apartment 707, exactly five seconds after Baekhyun opens the door and grins at him, leaning against the wooden doorframe as he blatantly flaunts his neck and thighs, dressed in one of Chanyeol’s oversized t-shirts, collar bone and shoulder exposed, and a pair of Chanyeol’s black boxers (that they had apparently mixed up while sorting, which is the reason why he’s standing there gaping while Baekhyun smirks at him that infuriating smirk that he loves).
It’s not his fault, he thinks, when he throws all self control out of the very large and taunting window and kisses Baekhyun right then and there like he’s wanted to the entire time, because Baekhyun is tiptoeing and Baekhyun is pulling him down by his collar and Byun Baek Hyun is standing in the doorway wearing nothing but Park Chan Yeol’s clothes.
Chanyeol never gets his shirt (and boxers) back.
*
“Move in with me,” Baekhyun says softly into his ear one night while they’re both cuddled up in bed, Chanyeol’s head cradled in Baekhyun’s arms. “Move in with me, Chanyeol.”
He wonders if he’s dreaming when he feels the cold press of metal on his palm, Baekhyun’s fingers closing his own over a key. The key to Baekhyun’s apartment.
“I made you a spare,” Baekhyun starts, eyes searching Chanyeol’s, and Chanyeol can hear his heart go thump, thump thump. “Stay with me?”
He answers with a nod, the corners of his eyes crinkling, tucking Baekhyun’s hair behind his ears when the other relaxes, sighing in relief before he leans down to kiss him on the nose.
“When can I move in?” He asks, grinning, and Baekhyun laughs, tangling his legs with Chanyeol’s under the comforter.
“Anytime,” He answers, basking in the warmth of Chanyeol’s body pressed so close to his, larger one blanketing his own smaller frame. “You practically live here already.”
Baekhyun takes Chanyeol’s hand and presses it to his heart.
*
Their first time together had been nothing short of a wonderful, chaotic mess.
They manage to get stains all over Baekhyun’s sheets, giggling madly as they tumbled around the tiny bed, the blanket tossed hastily aside. Chanyeol even falls off twice when he touches that sensitive spot behind Baekhyun’s neck and the other kicks him out of reflex, throwing the lankier one off balance. Baekhyun had apologized quickly, laughing uncontrollably at the hilarity of their situation, kissing Chanyeol sweetly when he climbs back on to the bed, pouting.
“I’m sorry,” He giggles while Chanyeol hides his face in the crook of Baekhyun’s neck, embarrassed. “Are you okay?”
Chanyeol nods silently before turning to nibble on Baekhyun’s ear, letting his fingertips trail slowly down Baekhyun’s ribcage, tracing the ridges of bone and flesh. Baekhyun’s loud, slightly louder than he usually is, and Chanyeol tugs him closer when they’re done, ignoring the discomfort of being hot and sticky in favour of holding Baekhyun, if only just for a while. Baekhyun curls into his side comfortably, whining about being gross and icky but snuggling up anyway. “Five minutes” he had said, stifling a yawn as their legs tangle together in the small space.
Chanyeol’s already dozing off when Baekhyun gasps and bolts upright, panicking and elbowing Chanyeol in the chin as he struggles to get up.
“The sheets! Chanyeol the sheets!” He shrieks dramatically, rolling Chanyeol’s heavier body off the bed.
“Huh?” The taller one blinks dumbly back at him from the floor, clambering over to help clean Baekhyun up before grabbing his hoodie from the floor and pulling it quickly over Baekhyun’s head, tugging down the oversized sweatshirt so that the hems reach just past the middle of Baekhyun’s thighs. He gets dressed himself while Baekhyun limps gingerly around the bed, untucking the sheets from the corners of the mattress.
“We only have one spare set. And we just soiled this one.” Baekhyun wails, pulling on shorts carefully. Chanyeol grabs Baekhyun’s wallet from the nightstand and digs around his backpack for his, emptying its contents on the nightstand. “We don't have money for new sheets!”
“Do we have enough for the laundromat?” Baekhyun asks, peering over his shoulder as he counts the coins and puts them on top of the two folded thousand won notes.
“… I don’t think so,” Chanyeol gulps, digging through his wallet again in hopes that maybe, just maybe, a ten thousand won note would appear.
“Hand wash it then!” Baekhyun squeals, shoving the balled up sheets into his arms. “Go up to the roof, there isn’t enough space in here. I’ll bring the tub and detergent up in a bit.”
Chanyeol nods and scurries out of their apartment, hurrying up the stairs to the open rooftop of their block, unpacking various bottles of stain removers and fabric softeners from the resealable pack they kept hidden in one of the corners. He isn’t sure which ones he needs so he takes them all along to the tap on the other side - he’ll just let Baekhyun choose.
He’s squatting by the wash area, about start the water running when he sees Baekhyun reaching the top of the steps, wincing slightly when he shifts to walk. Chanyeol meets him in the middle, taking the tub and soap from him, trailing behind him slowly as he limps awkwardly to the tap and curls up on the floor on his side, far enough so he won’t get wet. Chanyeol pats his head gently, running his fingers through Baekhyun’s hair as the shorter one pouts back at him while they wait for the tub to fill up.
“Put in those two,” Baekhyun directs once the sheets are soaked in the water, pointing out the bottles that Chanyeol should use. “ And that one goes directly onto the…stains.”
“Okay. Could you pass me that bottle? I can’t reach it,” Chanyeol asks, stretching out his arm in vain for the stain remover he had left on the other side.
Baekhyun hmmphs and shakes his head, no. “Get it yourself you bum.”
“You did this to me,” He smirks, gesturing at his own messed up hair, all matted and sticking up in various directions, and then to his face, still pink and flushed and glowy from before, lastly pointing at his own butt. “You should take responsibility for it and clean. On your own. While I laze around.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, Baekkie,” Chanyeol chuckles with a huge dopey grin plastered onto his face, hopping over Baekhyun to get to the bottle. “Half of this mess is because of you too.”
“Just shut up and scrub, Yeol,” He bites out weakly, turning away to hide his embarrassed face, rolling over onto his tummy.
“Hehe,” Chanyeol smiles quietly to himself as he gets on with the washing, moving away so that the water doesn’t splash onto Baekhyun’s still form. He makes quick work of it once he’s concentrating, draping it over their makeshift clothesline to dry. He joins Baekhyun on the ground and a glance to the side tells him that Baekhyun’s fallen asleep, resting his cheek on the back of his palm. He stirs a little when Chanyeol turns over onto his back and tries to shift the sleeping boy to rest on him, the smaller one making himself comfortable while Chanyeol’s hands move to linger at the small of his back.
“Chanyeol?” Baekhyun mumbles groggily. “I don’t think I want to move yet.”
“Does it hurt a lot?” Chanyeol asks softly, fingers pressed into the fabric of Baekhyun’s shirt.
“I’ll be fine. I don’t think I’ll be as …mobile as I usually am though. For a while.”
“Oh,” Chanyeol tenses, squeezing Baekhyun a little tighter. “I’ll help out.”
“You’d better,” Baekhyun chuckles, reaching up to brush away Chanyeol’s messy bangs from his forehead. “My silly Chanyeol.”
They lie there like that - still, together, in the lazy summer heat, dozing off in the bright light and calm wind, listening to the distant twinkle of wind chimes and the closeness of each other breathing - just there under endless shades of blue, under soft, puffy clouds, and Chanyeol never realized it back then but those days, he swears, those days were glorious.
*
The last time he gets to kiss Baekhyun good night is on a Sunday, a quick peck on each eyelid while the older one sleeps. He’s wearing his usual sleeping attire - one of Chanyeol’s old shirts and one of the many pairs of boxers he’s stolen from him, tummy exposed from where the shirt had ridden up. He mumbles Chanyeol’s name when he tugs the shirt back down and his arms wrap around his waist, and Chanyeol thinks about the matching pair of simple wooden rings he’s kept in his toolbox, one half of which he’s been planning to give to Baekhyun for months, but hasn't found the courage to yet.
Chanyeol wonders why Baekhyun is frowning, and he frowns as well, holding him closer, trying to chase away the nightmares. He wonders what Baekhyun sees in his dreams while he tosses and turns, what makes him cling to Chanyeol the way he does on nights where he accidentally wakes the other up, hugging him tightly while the smaller one trembles silently in his arms, whispering comforting words into his ears while he tries his best to convince Baekhyun that everything will be alright.
part: ii