[exo] clover - iii
Title: Clover
Rating: R
Wordcount: ~12k
Pairing: BaekYeol
Summary: Baekhyun was, is, to Chanyeol, back then and even now, his everything.
♣
Autumns brought with them a flood of work along with the changing leaves, their time together reduced to a bare minimum as practice and assignments and grades took over their lives and sleep became a luxury. They’d see each other only in the nights and mornings, and occasionally Baekhyun would pop by the art studios to visit or Chanyeol would leave apples and cans of coffee in Baekhyun’s locker, plastering the inside with yellow post it notes filled with smiley faces and stupid hearts. But they made an effort to set aside time at least once every fortnight for movies, curling up tiredly with each other on the couch with snacks on the table and cats on arm rests. Baekhyun’s favourites were always the horror movies and thrillers that Chanyeol did a horrendous job of coping with, squeezing his eyes shut and burying his face into Baekhyun’s chest as the smaller one just sat there, unflinching, chewing casually on chips with one hand while the other pet Chanyeol’s head, watching amusedly as zombies and spirits and demons mutilated each other on the screen.
“Baekkie?” Chanyeol would mumble, embarrassed, tugging at his sleeve, and Baekhyun would roll his eyes exasperatedly, knowing exactly what Chanyeol wants from him before he’s even said it, the tone of his voice and his shaking hands a huge giveaway. “Baekkie I need to pee. Really badly.”
“So go,” He’d say, avoiding the pleading eyes Chanyeol would throw at him, pretending to reach for the remote for the vcd player.
“Come with me?” Chanyeol begs, clinging on tightly to Baekhyun, trying his best to work his pitiful puppy eye magic on his cold and heartless boyfriend.
“Please Baekkie please please please please please its dark and I’m scared pleaaaaaase?” Chanyeol would whine while the horror show’s credits rolled and Baekhyun would give in, sighing as Chanyeol grabbed his hand and ran like lightning to the bathroom, telling Baekhyun to keep watch outside the door while he does what he needs to inside, latching onto Baekhyun’s arm again the moment he’s out of the door.
“Did you wash your hands?” The smaller one would ask, warily eyeing the long fingers gripping his forearm tightly, and Chanyeol would nod seriously, sticking close to Baekhyun when the other leads him back to the couch.
Ironically Baekhyun was the one with a weakness for dramatic romantic love stories and happy endings, trying to hide his tears by looking away, dabbing at his eyes with his sleeves and shooting Chanyeol halfhearted glares when the other fussed over him. “You look ugly when you cry,” Chanyeol would say, scooting over with tissues while Baekhyun sniffled cutely, eyes red and face scrunched up. “So smile, Baekkie~”
“I’m not crying!” Baekhyun would insist, shoving him away, hiding his face with his hands. “It’s the onions!”
“Spring onions, Baekkie. With Sour cream.” Chanyeol chuckles, reading the flavour of the pack of chips they had been eating off the label. He reaches out to brush away the crumbs at the corners of Baekhyun’s mouth when the other lets out a weak whine and swats his hand away.
“I freaked out at Paranormal Activity but you just cried at the ending of Finding Nemo.”
“Onions!” Baekhyun punches him in the bicep before flopping onto Chanyeol, shifting so that he can hide his face in the crook of his neck while the taller one squishes him through the fabric of his hoodie. It’s in moments like these that Baekhyun feels strangely small and fragile in his arms, and all Chanyeol knows is that he wants to keep holding him, wants to stay like this, wants to be the one Baekhyun cries to, always, and forever.
And even though those days were the days they spent the most time apart, caught up with life and reality and just being plain tired, Chanyeol finds that Baekyun’s presence was at its most prominent in the Autumn months. He was everywhere; from the glue holding together mended mugs to the bear patches he always used to sew up the accidental holes Chanyeol would make in his clothes while carving, in the plasters and tubes of antiseptic cream he stashes away discreetly into Chanyeol’s toolboxes, the aftertaste of his favourite candy lingering on the tip of his tongue. He’s there in the empty space when Chanyeol awakes, the soggy ramyeon he tries to cook for himself, the echoes of incessant flighty dances of notes and chords as Baekhyun practices away into the night on his keyboard while Chanyeol lies knocked out from exhaustion on their bed, mumbling Baekhyun’s name when Kyungsoo snuggles up in his arms, meowing.
Baekhyun was, is, to Chanyeol, back then and even now, his everything.
♣
*
“Chan Yeol -ssi?”
Minseok scurries over to where the tall man is, in the middle of signing out on the visitor’s log, pen stilling when he hears his name.
“You’re the guard, Kim Min Seok-ssi.” Chanyeol looks back at him, puzzled. “Visitor duty every Tuesday and Saturday Kim Min Seok -ssi.”
“Yes. Minseok-hyung is fine.” The policeman gives him a friendly smile before slipping his hand into his pocket. He digs around for a while before he re extends his hand, palm open to reveal Baekhyun’s necklace, wooden clover pendant contrasting against the pale skin of his hand. “I wanted to pass this to you.”
“This is Baekhyun’s...” Chanyeol chokes out, confused. His brows are furrowed and his eyes wide “Why do you have it?”
“I thought he threw it away,” Chanyeol frowns, picking up the cord, holding it between his thumb and index. “He’s had it all this time?”
“It was taken away from him recently.” Minseok starts “He never ever took it off, but they’re not allowed to wear personal items. It got confiscated during a spot check.”
“I’m the guard on duty at night and I’m in charge of the section where his cell is. He stopped me a couple of days ago and begged me to get it back for him…” He trails off when he sees the look of absolute heartbreak on Chanyeol’s face, pausing a little before he continues. “… It seems really precious to him.”
“Why are you giving it to me then?” Chanyeol asks him and Minseok watches as Chanyeol buries his emotions, the neutral mask he usually hid behind reappearing as quickly as it had disappeared.
“It would just get confiscated again and the next officer might not be as good as the one who did this round of checks. It already took me a week of digging around to find it this time, but I doubt he’d be as lucky if it happened again.” Minseok shrugs, taking a step back, noticing the way Chanyeol’s fist had clenched and his jaw tensed, eyes burning holes into the ground. “I thought it might have been a better idea to pass it to you instead. I could take it back to him though, if you don’t -”
“ - No. It’s alright,” Chanyeol sighs, giving Minseok a grateful look. “Thank you for this. I’m sorry if I scared you. It’s just. I really thought he got… rid… of it.”
Chanyeol holds his head in his hands then and Minseok thinks it's the most vulnerable he’s seen the tall familiar stranger in the year that’s passed since he first started showing up to visit Byun Baek Hyun in cell 56.
“Thank you…for this, Minseok - ssi. It’s really. Just. I. And Baekkie. We -“
Chanyeol chokes up again then, biting his lip as he looked to the side, and Minseok feels like he’s seeing something he shouldn’t, a private moment of weakness that he thinks probably only Baekhyun got to see. He’s figured out bits and pieces of their relationship from Chanyeol’s monologues and the rumours his colleagues would whisper to each other when they gossiped during shifts, but he can’t say he knows exactly what’s going on between the two. It’s obvious to him though, the way Chanyeol adores Byun Baekhyun. Likewise he’s noticed the way Baekhyun would look up once Chanyeol’s back was turned, staring intently as the other shuffled out of the room, hands clenched into fists on his lap, memorising every inch of his back as he walked away.
It’s not like him to meddle, but he thinks maybe a good bit of meddling is just what these two need.
“Call me Minseok-hyung,” He says brightly in an attempt to lighten the mood, giving Chanyeol a comforting pat on the shoulder when the other nods silently, looking very much like a lost child. “You look like you could use a coffee.”
“My treat.” He says, shooting Chanyeol a friendly smile. He waits patiently while Chanyeol loops the cord over his head and tucks the pendant into his shirt, adjusting the knot so that it doesn’t come loose. He nods once he’s done securing the necklace, replying a quiet okay before glancing up at Minseok and trailing behind him the way he does when he leads him to the visitor’s room.
Baekhyun’s still got a year to go - he figures they might as well be friends.
*
They become food buddies in the weeks after that, going out for dinner and occasional drinks every Saturday once Minseok’s shift is over. Minseok reveals his love for Chinese steamed buns then, and Chanyeol gladly complies when the policeman suggests Chinese food for dinner (every single time), indulging Minseok and his weekly quota of baozis to devour.
So good, He’d try to say with stuffed cheeks, handing Chanyeol one while he took a large bite out of another, speech muffled by steamed bread and stuffing. Eat, Chanyeol, eat. You’re so thin.
“Keep it up and you’ll morph into a bun, hyung,” Chanyeol jokes, opening a can of beer for Minseok before handing it to him. He shoots the younger one a dirty look before taking another vicious bite out of his bun. Ahh, baozis.
“Is that all you’re eating?” Minseok frowns at Chanyeol’s lonely bowl of jajangmyeon and the bun in his hand. “You should be having two bowls of that at least!”
He waves the waitress over and places another order for noodles before Chanyeol can protest, smiling in glee when he finishes his first bun and picks up the next one, nibbling on the bread.
“Want some?” He gestures at Chanyeol with his beer, distracted by the Baseball game that’s showing on the small television at the end of the counter, the announcer’s voice buzzing in the background while they ate.
“No thanks,” Chanyeol shakes his head, taking a swig out of his can of tea instead. “I’m not used to it.”
“Your loss,” He shrugs, sighing contentedly as he takes a gulp of the cold drink.
Ah, Beer and Baozis.
They eat quietly for a while, slurping at their noodles hungrily, occasionally looking up to watch the game when the announcer screams in excitement. Minseok smiles when he sees Chanyeol clear his first bowl of noodles and working his way through his second.
“I wanted to ask you something,” He starts once they’re both done eating, fingers drumming along the aluminium can of his beer.
Chanyeol hmms at him, raising his eyebrows and looking at Minseok quizzically. “Hyung, are you drunk?”
He rolls his eyes at the younger one before continuing, and Chanyeol sits up straight when he hears the serious tone of his voice.
“You know that tattoo he has on his wrist?” Minseok asks, putting his drink back on the counter.
“Oh. The four leaf?” Chanyeol blinks.
“What does it mean?”
“The fourth leaf’s for Good luck, the third for Love, the second for Hope…” Chanyeol pauses, hand moving unconsciously to play with the wooden pendant hanging from the necklace. His eyes are glazed and the corners of his mouth quirk up ever so slightly, like he’s remembering something. He gives Minseok a sad smile. “And the first is for Faith.”
“Chanyeol -ah… I’m not trying to be presumptuous but I think he might have not told you the entire truth when you asked him about it.”
“Huh?” Chanyeol frowns at him in confusion, troubled. “Baekkie lied to me?”
“No, no he didn’t. That’s what he told me too,” Minseok shakes his head quickly, not wanting Chanyeol to misunderstand. “But that tattoo. I’m pretty sure it stands for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“When I was documenting it... for the database I asked him about it and he started talking. A lot. About you.”
“And the entire time he was clutching his left wrist.”
“He talked about me?” Chanyeol’s grip on his arm tightens. “Is he mad at me? Does he hate me?”
“What makes you think that, Chanyeol?”
“He refuses to talk to me. It’s been more than a year and he hasn’t said a single word to me. He never looks at me when I visit either and sometimes it feels like he doesn’t… want me there, you know?” He lets go of Minseoks arm, taking a deep breath before he continues, fingers moving back to the pendant instinctively. “Its just. I was there? You know? The entire time? But I never noticed it. I wasn’t there when he needed me.”
“I don’t think you’re aware of this, Chanyeol, but if he really didn’t want to see you he could just refuse your visits. Not show up. We can’t force them to entertain their visitors.” He picks up the last bun and tears it in half, offering one side to Chanyeol. The other just shakes his head weakly, staring at the empty bowl in front of him. “But Baekhyun waits for you every single time. He’s always there, ready, waiting for me to call your name.”
“He doesn’t hate you at all, Chanyeol-ah.” Minseok sighs, squeezing the younger’s shoulder reassuringly. He can see the way Chanyeol’s whole body has gone tense, the aluminium can of green tea crushed in his right hand, see the salty droplets falling quietly onto the cuffs of his sleeves. He thinks that maybe he should stop then, perhaps he’s meddled enough and he shouldn’t interfere anymore. But he knows that its something the younger one needs to hear, so he swallows the lump in his own throat, pulling Chanyeol into a comforting hug before he speaks.
“In fact I think he loves you very, very much.”
*
The hardest times for him are when he forgets.
It isn’t easy to when everything reminds him of Baekhyun, but sometimes his mind slips, mental defenses falling away from his consciousness in the early mornings and late nights, and he finds himself mumbling quietly, reaching out for the space where Baekhyun would have been, right next to him.
“Baekkie, can you get the alarm?” He’d groan at six in the morning, rolling over onto Kyungsoo, who mreows back disgruntledly at him, Suho snoozing peacefully by his feet. “Baek, I got back from work at two last night. Let me sleep okay? Please?”
“Baekkie?” He’d sit up, looking for the other in the dark, letting the alarm ring as he peers over the side of the bed, still searching for Baekhyun. He never finds Baekhyun there, and he’d panic when he climbs out of bed and shuffles to the bathroom, only to find it empty as well.
“…Oh,” It hits him as he walks past the little tabletop calendar where he’s marked out all the days he gets to go see Baekhyun. “Right.”
“Haha, silly me.” He’d laugh stiffly at himself, fists clenched as he drags his feet slowly back to their room, pulling Suho and Kyungsoo in close, sliding back under the blanket and hugging the two cats as tightly as he can without hurting them, clinging on desperately to their warmth.
Those days are the only days he ever misses his visits with Baekhyun, curled up on the couch with Kyungsoo and Suho napping on his lap, watching reruns of the shows they used to laugh at together. He’d sit there, unmoving, in his pajamas, only getting up when its time to feed the cats, neglecting his own food in favour of staring dazedly at the screen as he popped in tapes and VCDs of Baekhyun’s favourite movies and dramas one after the other. Sometimes Kyungsoo would jump onto the counter and hit an apple out of the bowl, rolling it over to him and meowing ceaselessly until Chanyeol picks the fruit up and takes a bite out of it.
“Thanks, ‘Soo.” He’d say, petting his companion as he bumps his nose gently to his cheek, and though the scene Baekhyun and him had once bawled at together is playing on the screen, interrupted occasionally by the fuzzy static, and it hurts so, so much, no matter how much he wants to - he just can’t cry.
*
♣
Sometimes he wonders if people choose to ignore him when he tells them that Baekhyun’s a boy, that yes they’re both male and that they’re together.
Your Girlfriend is here, the old ladies would say, smiling at him when Baekhyun shuffles down the row of stalls, bundled up in layers of sweaters and coats, woolen hat pulled firmly over his ears, nose red and cheeks pink as he hunches and shivers, arms crossed, making a beeline for where Chanyeol was. Baekkie’s a boy, he’d reply each time, Just like me, sighing when he has to correct them every time they addressed Baekhyun as the ‘Cute Miss’.
There was a traveling craft fair that stopped by their town every winter, and Chanyeol would find work there, helping to mend stalls while he carved Christmassy figurines and items to sell. His stints at the craft fairs had proven to be quite lucrative - the works he had done during the autumn school term had a tendency to sell rather well, and he’d come home to Baekhyun with his pockets full of cheques and cash and a bag full of groceries for hotpot, huge grin plastered on his face when Baekhyun screams and jumps him at the sight of “Meat!!!!!!!!”
Baekhyun was terribly weak against the cold but their apartment was cheap and didn’t have heating, so the smaller one had taken it upon himself to declare Chanyeol as his own personal living, breathing heater, latching on to him as much as possible anywhere and everywhere.
Not that Chanyeol minded of course.
“C-c-cold.” Baekhyun grumbles as he walks straight into Chanyeol’s outstretched arms for a hug, sliding his hands past Chanyeol’s coat and around his sides, relaxing a little at the comforting body heat. “Warm.”
“Why are you so warm?” He’d mumble to himself, squeezing Chanyeol tight. “Why are you never cold?”
“Maybe it’s a tall people thing,” Chanyeol would joke, yelping when Baekhyun gives his sneakered foot a hard stomp. “Ow.”
Stop moving, He’d say, wiggling a little, body still plastered to Chanyeol’s. I need to de-frost, and Chanyeol would take his hand and pull him behind the counter of the stall when he’s back to being pliant again, sitting Baekhyun down next to him on the bench instead of his lap so he doesn’t get fired for excessive PDA.
“How was rehearsal?” He asks, taking the red scarf from his neck and wrapping it around Baekhyun’s fingers when he spots the other blowing puffs of air into his hands. All the music students were involved with the school’s annual Christmas recital - the town’s most exciting event, and arguably the highlight of the winter break.
“Bad.” Baekhyun looks down dejectedly as he bites his lip, and Chanyeol frowns, worried. “They gave me a solo but I screwed it up, Yeol.”
“Keep trying,” He squeezes Baekhyun reassuringly, knowing all too well that the smaller boy would, without a doubt, practice until he could play his part perfectly. Baekhyun nods quietly, the comfortable silence between them only broken when Baekhyun sneezes, smiling gratefully when Chanyeol hands him tissues.
Baekhyun wakes up to a warm pair of woolen gloves on his hands and a scarf around his neck the next day, staring at his covered hands in confusion when he tries to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Chanyeol’s already gone but he’s left a note, a yellow post-it stuck to Baekhyun’s forehead, and Baekhyun rolls over to squish their two cats when he reads it.
Stay warm, Baekkie!
<3, Your unavailable heater.
Maybe it's the cold, maybe it's the feeling of nostalgia and loneliness that comes with winter, but Baekhyun had an odd habit of wanting to shower together on particularly chilly days, waiting patiently for Chanyeol to be done with work before dragging him to the bathroom, losing articles of clothing along the way, scattered haphazardly in the walkways. They usually end up doing much more than just showering, bodies pressed together in their tiny bathroom, panting as the hot water flowed down their backs, Baekhyun’s fingers digging into Chanyeol’s shoulderblades to keep himself from slipping when the other sucks at his neck, leaving a trail of red marks along his collarbone.
“Shh,” Chanyeol would hush the smaller one when moans start to slip past his throat and echo in the small space. “The landlady will get mad at us again.”
He chuckles when Baekhyun starts to nibble at his ear, pulling back to glare at Chanyeol with flushed cheeks and half lidded eyes.
“So shut up and kiss me then,” Baekhyun smirks, breathing heavily, watching as water droplets fell from the ends of Chanyeol’s fringe. His hair was a lot longer when wet, curls mostly straightened from the weight of the water, and Baekhyun loves it, loves the way his fringe falls over his eyes and tickles his nose, threading his fingers through the wet locks when Chanyeol obliges and presses him to the tiled wall, finishing up what Baekhyun had started when he had gone straight for his belt the moment he had stepped through the door.
They’re huddled up in bed later, Baekhyun wearing Chanyeol’s hoodie Because its warmer with Chanyeol’s head in Baekhyun’s lap, hair reverting back to its usual messy state as Baekhyun towels it dry, when Baekhyun falls unnaturally quiet.
Why do you love me so much he asks, barely a whisper, timidly into the silence, fingers that were previously playing with Chanyeol’s ears stilling, and Chanyeol sits up, poking Baekhyun in the cheek so the other looks him in the eye.
Because you are Byun Baek Hyun - he starts, smiling warmly, before letting his head rest on Baekhyun’s shoulder - and I am Park Chan Yeol.
♣
*
“I have to leave,” Chanyeol tells him over the phone on a Wednesday afternoon in December. “The school is sending me away for a couple of months on a woodwork course. They just told me today.”
Minseok gulps.
“When do you go?” He asks, furrowing his eyebrows, grip on the phone tightening.
“Saturday morning. What do I do hyung? I won’t be able to tell Baekkie,” Chanyeol sighs into the receiver. “I won’t get to see him before I go either.”
“And I might not be back before his release date. Hyung what should I do? I can’t not go but I can’t miss Baekkie’s release either, hyung, what if he thinks I’ve abandoned him when I stop visiting? Hyung what should I do oh god what should I do - ”
“Chanyeol. Calm down,” Minseok sighs, rubbing his temples to soothe his headache. “Stop panicking okay? Meet me on Friday at one am.”
“Huh? Why?” Chanyeol asks, confused, and Minseok looks around before he lowers his voice and whispers into the receiver.
“Just come alright?” Minseok hisses when he hears footsteps and sees another officer rounding the corner. “I have to go. Make sure you come on Friday okay?”
He waits until Chanyeol mumbles an okay on the other end before he hangs up, hurrying back to his post.
*
Chanyeol shows up at the gates right at one am on Friday night, bundled up in his long coat, wearing his usual sneakers. Minseok scurries over to him the moment he spots him, grabbing his arm and dragging him along the side of the building, flashing his ID pass to the security guard on duty before pulling Chanyeol through a series of blank corridors.
“Hyung?” Chanyeol asks quietly. “Where are you taking me?”
“To see Baekhyun.” Minseok explains, motioning for Chanyeol to stay silent. “I’m not allowed to do this so you can’t wake him up, but you’ll get to see him at least. I’m sorry this is all I can do for you.”
Chanyeol nods when he unlocks the door leading to the section where Baekhyun’s cell is, and Minseok ushers him in quickly before closing the door behind them. Seventh cell, right at the end, he whispers to Chanyeol before nudging him in the right direction, staying by the door to keep watch. You have ten minutes okay?
He watches as Chanyeol’s back as the tall male walks quickly but quietly to the end of the hallway, slowing when he reaches Baekhyun’s cell. Baekhyun should be asleep by now, Minseok thinks, and he panics a little when Chanyeol takes a step forward and lets his fingers grip the steel bars of the cell.
But Chanyeol doesn’t say a word, doesn’t wake Baekhyun up just like he told him not to.
He just stands there while his knuckles turn white, and Minseok can’t begin to imagine how hard it is for him to hold back when Baekhyun’s barely two meters away, almost within reach, curled up on his hard bed, sleeping. Chanyeol watches him sleep and nothing more, squatting down to slip an envelope through the bars. He’s halfway back down the corridor when Baekhyun mumbles something and they both freeze, Minseok with his hand on the doorknob and Chanyeol mid-step.
Chanyeol.
It isn’t very loud, but in the dark of the night Baekhyun’s voice rings out loud and clear as light, and Minseok doesn’t know what to do when Chanyeol slumps against the wall and crumbles into a thousand pieces, shaking as he cries into his knees.
*
Chanyeol hasn’t been home in a while.
It’s already the end of spring and the rain is falling gently as he stares out the window, reacquainting himself with the streets and corners of his hometown as his sister drives them through puddles, humming along to the beat of the song that’s playing from the radio. Kyungsoo and Suho are snoozing in the back seat, blue and green eyes peeking open every once in a while when they go over bumps in the road. They had gone to stay with Chanyeol’s family while he was away, and he thinks his sister might have spoilt them a little too much, judging from how much bigger they look.
“It’s today isn’t it?” She asks when the song changes to an old familiar love ballad, and Chanyeol sings quietly along, remembering the lyrics from the many times Baekhyun had played the CD on their radioset.
“Yeah.” He smiles, eyes forming happy crescent moons. “Yeah it is.”
He spots their apartment when they round the corner, brass number plate glinting softly in the dim morning light, and he can’t help but smile when he recalls his first encounter with Baekhyun, six years ago in the summer.
His sister helps him with his bags once they’ve reached, and they joke about being old while they struggle with the stairs, laughing cheerfully. The cats have climbed up ahead of them and are already clawing at the door when they reach the top, meowing impatiently when Chanyeol puts down the box he’s holding to give his sister a hug before she goes.
“Call me if you guys need anything okay?” She says, squeezing her baby brother tightly. He nods into her shoulder, letting go only when Kyungsoo paws at his leg, and she laughs, ruffling his hair before she turns to leave, down the stairs and out of sight.
“You’ve gotten fat,” Chanyeol chuckles into Kyungsoo’s ear when he picks the cat up and sticks his key into the lock, turning it and nudging the door open with his foot. Suho runs in eagerly and Kyungsoo follows after, breaking free from Chanyeol’s grip, bell tinkling airily as he pads over to where their cat bed used to be. The apartment hasn’t changed at all since he’s left. Aside from the simple tidying up his sister had helped him with the day before, everything is exactly as he remembers. Baekhyun’s wind chimes are still hanging by the windows, cloud curtains still drawn. The two calendars Chanyeol used are still on the kitchen counter, Baekhyun’s festival flyers still stuck to the fridge, the second hand of their smiley face clock on the wall ticking away, the photographs of him and Baekhyun together still tacked to the wall. He laughs when he spots the photograph of Suho as a kitten and a much thinner Kyungsoo that Baekhyun had taken the day they got Suho back from the vet.
Chanyeol spends the day unpacking.
He hangs his clothes back in the wardrobe, in the empty space on the right. Baekhyun’s clothes are still there on the left side - untouched, waiting for his return. He flops onto their bed when he’s done, staring at the ceiling, checking his watch for the time ever half hour or so.
He gets up at five, when the cats start to climb all over him, and heads back into the kitchen to fix them their dinner.
At five thirty he changes back into his favourite hoodie and jeans and puts on his socks.
At six he slips on his sneakers, stuffing his wallet into his pocket, grabbing the orange cap hanging by the door next to Baekhyun’s keys before heading out.
It’s time to bring Baekhyun home.
*
He gets there half an hour early. Minseok had sent him a postcard a couple of weeks ago with the date and time of Baekhyun’s release, telling him to come back soon. Chanyeol sits down on the curb opposite the gates, in between two cars, fiddling with his shoelaces while he waits. He has the orange cap on his head. He pulls his hood up when it starts drizzling again, watching the ground as the raindrops colour the pavement with spots.
He looks up when he hears the creak of rusty hinges at seven and falls in love all over again with the tiny figure standing there, cold and alone.
Baekhyun looks slightly to his left and a little hopefully to his right before he bites his lip and looks down. Chanyeol can see the way his fingers dig into the paper bag of his belongings, sighing. He looks like he doesn’t know where to go.
Chanyeol watches as he takes a tentative step forward, hesitating before he stops and turns back around. He hasn’t seen Chanyeol yet. Baekhyun’s about to start walking again when Chanyeol speaks, standing up slowly with weak knees.
“Hey Tiny Boy,” He calls out, and Baekhyun freezes, staring at Chanyeol in disbelief as the other walks over to him, eyes going wide. The paper bag slips through his fingers when Chanyeol cups his cheek gently, smiling the bright smile he knows Baekhyun loves before he reaches for the orange smiley face cap with his other hand and fits it perfectly on Baekhyun’s head. It’s an indescribable feeling, to be able to touch Baekhyun again, and he’s pretty sure Baekhyun can feel the way his hand is trembling on his cheek, can hear the way his voice is wavering when he speaks.
“I’ve missed you,” He chokes out when he feels a wetness on his hand that he’s sure aren’t raindrops, pulling Baekhyun towards him when he feels Baekhyun’s fingers curl into the fabric of his hoodie, tugging him closer weakly.
Chanyeol stands and tries to be strong, cradling the boy he loves so, so much while he breaks apart, crying his heart out, back in the safety and warmth of Chanyeol’s arms.
Let’s go home.
*
♣
They cycle to the field again the next day, Baekhyun’s face pressed into Chanyeol’s back while the taller one pedals, making sudden turns and stops so Baekhyun’s arms wrap even tighter around his waist. He lets Baekhyun push him down into the grass this time, rolling away when the smaller one tries to tickle his sides, not caring about the grass that’s gotten into his hair.
“Come back here!” Baekhyun laughs when he continues to roll away, pouncing on him and sitting on his chest while they both giggle childishly when Chanyeol sneezes, allergies finally catching up with their fun. He sits up when Baekhyun holds a tissue to his nose, smiling dopily when he sees the wooden band around the ring finger of Baekhyun’s left hand, thinking about the matching one he’s got on his own hand. He blinks when Baekhyun leans forward and steals a kiss from him, tugging him down so that he can rest his head on Baekhyun’s shoulder.
“Baekkie?” He starts, playing with the clover pendent that’s hanging from the leather cord around Baekhyun’s neck, back where it belongs.
“Hmm?”
“Don’t ever do that again,” He mumbles. He can feel Baekhyun’s fingers threading through his hair, and he shifts a little closer. “We have money now… we can buy you a proper piano, we could move away if you want. Go somewhere new, start over.”
“Just. Don’t you ever leave me again.”
“I won’t,” Baekhyun says firmly into his ear before he wiggles until he’s resting on top of Chanyeol again, leaning down to kiss him - slowly, patiently, because now they’ve got all the time in the world, all the days and hours and seconds they could ever count, together.
“Hey Baekkie?” He whispers to the other when they pull apart, staring up at Baekhyun, who’s blocking out the sun.
“Hmm?”
“I’ve found it - ” He smiles, taking Baekhyun’s wrist, thumb brushing gently over the spot where he knows the ink is, before holding it to his heart.
“- my four leaf clover.”
♣
end.
a/n: much love to uchouten ~ ♣♣♣♣ i'm an idiot when it comes to coding so if the spacing and stuff is wonky IM SORRY OTL OTL OTL Also, Kyungsoo and Suho are their pet cats.
Thank you for reading~! :3
Rating: R
Wordcount: ~12k
Pairing: BaekYeol
Summary: Baekhyun was, is, to Chanyeol, back then and even now, his everything.
♣
Autumns brought with them a flood of work along with the changing leaves, their time together reduced to a bare minimum as practice and assignments and grades took over their lives and sleep became a luxury. They’d see each other only in the nights and mornings, and occasionally Baekhyun would pop by the art studios to visit or Chanyeol would leave apples and cans of coffee in Baekhyun’s locker, plastering the inside with yellow post it notes filled with smiley faces and stupid hearts. But they made an effort to set aside time at least once every fortnight for movies, curling up tiredly with each other on the couch with snacks on the table and cats on arm rests. Baekhyun’s favourites were always the horror movies and thrillers that Chanyeol did a horrendous job of coping with, squeezing his eyes shut and burying his face into Baekhyun’s chest as the smaller one just sat there, unflinching, chewing casually on chips with one hand while the other pet Chanyeol’s head, watching amusedly as zombies and spirits and demons mutilated each other on the screen.
“Baekkie?” Chanyeol would mumble, embarrassed, tugging at his sleeve, and Baekhyun would roll his eyes exasperatedly, knowing exactly what Chanyeol wants from him before he’s even said it, the tone of his voice and his shaking hands a huge giveaway. “Baekkie I need to pee. Really badly.”
“So go,” He’d say, avoiding the pleading eyes Chanyeol would throw at him, pretending to reach for the remote for the vcd player.
“Come with me?” Chanyeol begs, clinging on tightly to Baekhyun, trying his best to work his pitiful puppy eye magic on his cold and heartless boyfriend.
“Please Baekkie please please please please please its dark and I’m scared pleaaaaaase?” Chanyeol would whine while the horror show’s credits rolled and Baekhyun would give in, sighing as Chanyeol grabbed his hand and ran like lightning to the bathroom, telling Baekhyun to keep watch outside the door while he does what he needs to inside, latching onto Baekhyun’s arm again the moment he’s out of the door.
“Did you wash your hands?” The smaller one would ask, warily eyeing the long fingers gripping his forearm tightly, and Chanyeol would nod seriously, sticking close to Baekhyun when the other leads him back to the couch.
Ironically Baekhyun was the one with a weakness for dramatic romantic love stories and happy endings, trying to hide his tears by looking away, dabbing at his eyes with his sleeves and shooting Chanyeol halfhearted glares when the other fussed over him. “You look ugly when you cry,” Chanyeol would say, scooting over with tissues while Baekhyun sniffled cutely, eyes red and face scrunched up. “So smile, Baekkie~”
“I’m not crying!” Baekhyun would insist, shoving him away, hiding his face with his hands. “It’s the onions!”
“Spring onions, Baekkie. With Sour cream.” Chanyeol chuckles, reading the flavour of the pack of chips they had been eating off the label. He reaches out to brush away the crumbs at the corners of Baekhyun’s mouth when the other lets out a weak whine and swats his hand away.
“I freaked out at Paranormal Activity but you just cried at the ending of Finding Nemo.”
“Onions!” Baekhyun punches him in the bicep before flopping onto Chanyeol, shifting so that he can hide his face in the crook of his neck while the taller one squishes him through the fabric of his hoodie. It’s in moments like these that Baekhyun feels strangely small and fragile in his arms, and all Chanyeol knows is that he wants to keep holding him, wants to stay like this, wants to be the one Baekhyun cries to, always, and forever.
And even though those days were the days they spent the most time apart, caught up with life and reality and just being plain tired, Chanyeol finds that Baekyun’s presence was at its most prominent in the Autumn months. He was everywhere; from the glue holding together mended mugs to the bear patches he always used to sew up the accidental holes Chanyeol would make in his clothes while carving, in the plasters and tubes of antiseptic cream he stashes away discreetly into Chanyeol’s toolboxes, the aftertaste of his favourite candy lingering on the tip of his tongue. He’s there in the empty space when Chanyeol awakes, the soggy ramyeon he tries to cook for himself, the echoes of incessant flighty dances of notes and chords as Baekhyun practices away into the night on his keyboard while Chanyeol lies knocked out from exhaustion on their bed, mumbling Baekhyun’s name when Kyungsoo snuggles up in his arms, meowing.
Baekhyun was, is, to Chanyeol, back then and even now, his everything.
♣
*
“Chan Yeol -ssi?”
Minseok scurries over to where the tall man is, in the middle of signing out on the visitor’s log, pen stilling when he hears his name.
“You’re the guard, Kim Min Seok-ssi.” Chanyeol looks back at him, puzzled. “Visitor duty every Tuesday and Saturday Kim Min Seok -ssi.”
“Yes. Minseok-hyung is fine.” The policeman gives him a friendly smile before slipping his hand into his pocket. He digs around for a while before he re extends his hand, palm open to reveal Baekhyun’s necklace, wooden clover pendant contrasting against the pale skin of his hand. “I wanted to pass this to you.”
“This is Baekhyun’s...” Chanyeol chokes out, confused. His brows are furrowed and his eyes wide “Why do you have it?”
“I thought he threw it away,” Chanyeol frowns, picking up the cord, holding it between his thumb and index. “He’s had it all this time?”
“It was taken away from him recently.” Minseok starts “He never ever took it off, but they’re not allowed to wear personal items. It got confiscated during a spot check.”
“I’m the guard on duty at night and I’m in charge of the section where his cell is. He stopped me a couple of days ago and begged me to get it back for him…” He trails off when he sees the look of absolute heartbreak on Chanyeol’s face, pausing a little before he continues. “… It seems really precious to him.”
“Why are you giving it to me then?” Chanyeol asks him and Minseok watches as Chanyeol buries his emotions, the neutral mask he usually hid behind reappearing as quickly as it had disappeared.
“It would just get confiscated again and the next officer might not be as good as the one who did this round of checks. It already took me a week of digging around to find it this time, but I doubt he’d be as lucky if it happened again.” Minseok shrugs, taking a step back, noticing the way Chanyeol’s fist had clenched and his jaw tensed, eyes burning holes into the ground. “I thought it might have been a better idea to pass it to you instead. I could take it back to him though, if you don’t -”
“ - No. It’s alright,” Chanyeol sighs, giving Minseok a grateful look. “Thank you for this. I’m sorry if I scared you. It’s just. I really thought he got… rid… of it.”
Chanyeol holds his head in his hands then and Minseok thinks it's the most vulnerable he’s seen the tall familiar stranger in the year that’s passed since he first started showing up to visit Byun Baek Hyun in cell 56.
“Thank you…for this, Minseok - ssi. It’s really. Just. I. And Baekkie. We -“
Chanyeol chokes up again then, biting his lip as he looked to the side, and Minseok feels like he’s seeing something he shouldn’t, a private moment of weakness that he thinks probably only Baekhyun got to see. He’s figured out bits and pieces of their relationship from Chanyeol’s monologues and the rumours his colleagues would whisper to each other when they gossiped during shifts, but he can’t say he knows exactly what’s going on between the two. It’s obvious to him though, the way Chanyeol adores Byun Baekhyun. Likewise he’s noticed the way Baekhyun would look up once Chanyeol’s back was turned, staring intently as the other shuffled out of the room, hands clenched into fists on his lap, memorising every inch of his back as he walked away.
It’s not like him to meddle, but he thinks maybe a good bit of meddling is just what these two need.
“Call me Minseok-hyung,” He says brightly in an attempt to lighten the mood, giving Chanyeol a comforting pat on the shoulder when the other nods silently, looking very much like a lost child. “You look like you could use a coffee.”
“My treat.” He says, shooting Chanyeol a friendly smile. He waits patiently while Chanyeol loops the cord over his head and tucks the pendant into his shirt, adjusting the knot so that it doesn’t come loose. He nods once he’s done securing the necklace, replying a quiet okay before glancing up at Minseok and trailing behind him the way he does when he leads him to the visitor’s room.
Baekhyun’s still got a year to go - he figures they might as well be friends.
*
They become food buddies in the weeks after that, going out for dinner and occasional drinks every Saturday once Minseok’s shift is over. Minseok reveals his love for Chinese steamed buns then, and Chanyeol gladly complies when the policeman suggests Chinese food for dinner (every single time), indulging Minseok and his weekly quota of baozis to devour.
So good, He’d try to say with stuffed cheeks, handing Chanyeol one while he took a large bite out of another, speech muffled by steamed bread and stuffing. Eat, Chanyeol, eat. You’re so thin.
“Keep it up and you’ll morph into a bun, hyung,” Chanyeol jokes, opening a can of beer for Minseok before handing it to him. He shoots the younger one a dirty look before taking another vicious bite out of his bun. Ahh, baozis.
“Is that all you’re eating?” Minseok frowns at Chanyeol’s lonely bowl of jajangmyeon and the bun in his hand. “You should be having two bowls of that at least!”
He waves the waitress over and places another order for noodles before Chanyeol can protest, smiling in glee when he finishes his first bun and picks up the next one, nibbling on the bread.
“Want some?” He gestures at Chanyeol with his beer, distracted by the Baseball game that’s showing on the small television at the end of the counter, the announcer’s voice buzzing in the background while they ate.
“No thanks,” Chanyeol shakes his head, taking a swig out of his can of tea instead. “I’m not used to it.”
“Your loss,” He shrugs, sighing contentedly as he takes a gulp of the cold drink.
Ah, Beer and Baozis.
They eat quietly for a while, slurping at their noodles hungrily, occasionally looking up to watch the game when the announcer screams in excitement. Minseok smiles when he sees Chanyeol clear his first bowl of noodles and working his way through his second.
“I wanted to ask you something,” He starts once they’re both done eating, fingers drumming along the aluminium can of his beer.
Chanyeol hmms at him, raising his eyebrows and looking at Minseok quizzically. “Hyung, are you drunk?”
He rolls his eyes at the younger one before continuing, and Chanyeol sits up straight when he hears the serious tone of his voice.
“You know that tattoo he has on his wrist?” Minseok asks, putting his drink back on the counter.
“Oh. The four leaf?” Chanyeol blinks.
“What does it mean?”
“The fourth leaf’s for Good luck, the third for Love, the second for Hope…” Chanyeol pauses, hand moving unconsciously to play with the wooden pendant hanging from the necklace. His eyes are glazed and the corners of his mouth quirk up ever so slightly, like he’s remembering something. He gives Minseok a sad smile. “And the first is for Faith.”
“Chanyeol -ah… I’m not trying to be presumptuous but I think he might have not told you the entire truth when you asked him about it.”
“Huh?” Chanyeol frowns at him in confusion, troubled. “Baekkie lied to me?”
“No, no he didn’t. That’s what he told me too,” Minseok shakes his head quickly, not wanting Chanyeol to misunderstand. “But that tattoo. I’m pretty sure it stands for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“When I was documenting it... for the database I asked him about it and he started talking. A lot. About you.”
“And the entire time he was clutching his left wrist.”
“He talked about me?” Chanyeol’s grip on his arm tightens. “Is he mad at me? Does he hate me?”
“What makes you think that, Chanyeol?”
“He refuses to talk to me. It’s been more than a year and he hasn’t said a single word to me. He never looks at me when I visit either and sometimes it feels like he doesn’t… want me there, you know?” He lets go of Minseoks arm, taking a deep breath before he continues, fingers moving back to the pendant instinctively. “Its just. I was there? You know? The entire time? But I never noticed it. I wasn’t there when he needed me.”
“I don’t think you’re aware of this, Chanyeol, but if he really didn’t want to see you he could just refuse your visits. Not show up. We can’t force them to entertain their visitors.” He picks up the last bun and tears it in half, offering one side to Chanyeol. The other just shakes his head weakly, staring at the empty bowl in front of him. “But Baekhyun waits for you every single time. He’s always there, ready, waiting for me to call your name.”
“He doesn’t hate you at all, Chanyeol-ah.” Minseok sighs, squeezing the younger’s shoulder reassuringly. He can see the way Chanyeol’s whole body has gone tense, the aluminium can of green tea crushed in his right hand, see the salty droplets falling quietly onto the cuffs of his sleeves. He thinks that maybe he should stop then, perhaps he’s meddled enough and he shouldn’t interfere anymore. But he knows that its something the younger one needs to hear, so he swallows the lump in his own throat, pulling Chanyeol into a comforting hug before he speaks.
“In fact I think he loves you very, very much.”
*
The hardest times for him are when he forgets.
It isn’t easy to when everything reminds him of Baekhyun, but sometimes his mind slips, mental defenses falling away from his consciousness in the early mornings and late nights, and he finds himself mumbling quietly, reaching out for the space where Baekhyun would have been, right next to him.
“Baekkie, can you get the alarm?” He’d groan at six in the morning, rolling over onto Kyungsoo, who mreows back disgruntledly at him, Suho snoozing peacefully by his feet. “Baek, I got back from work at two last night. Let me sleep okay? Please?”
“Baekkie?” He’d sit up, looking for the other in the dark, letting the alarm ring as he peers over the side of the bed, still searching for Baekhyun. He never finds Baekhyun there, and he’d panic when he climbs out of bed and shuffles to the bathroom, only to find it empty as well.
“…Oh,” It hits him as he walks past the little tabletop calendar where he’s marked out all the days he gets to go see Baekhyun. “Right.”
“Haha, silly me.” He’d laugh stiffly at himself, fists clenched as he drags his feet slowly back to their room, pulling Suho and Kyungsoo in close, sliding back under the blanket and hugging the two cats as tightly as he can without hurting them, clinging on desperately to their warmth.
Those days are the only days he ever misses his visits with Baekhyun, curled up on the couch with Kyungsoo and Suho napping on his lap, watching reruns of the shows they used to laugh at together. He’d sit there, unmoving, in his pajamas, only getting up when its time to feed the cats, neglecting his own food in favour of staring dazedly at the screen as he popped in tapes and VCDs of Baekhyun’s favourite movies and dramas one after the other. Sometimes Kyungsoo would jump onto the counter and hit an apple out of the bowl, rolling it over to him and meowing ceaselessly until Chanyeol picks the fruit up and takes a bite out of it.
“Thanks, ‘Soo.” He’d say, petting his companion as he bumps his nose gently to his cheek, and though the scene Baekhyun and him had once bawled at together is playing on the screen, interrupted occasionally by the fuzzy static, and it hurts so, so much, no matter how much he wants to - he just can’t cry.
*
♣
Sometimes he wonders if people choose to ignore him when he tells them that Baekhyun’s a boy, that yes they’re both male and that they’re together.
Your Girlfriend is here, the old ladies would say, smiling at him when Baekhyun shuffles down the row of stalls, bundled up in layers of sweaters and coats, woolen hat pulled firmly over his ears, nose red and cheeks pink as he hunches and shivers, arms crossed, making a beeline for where Chanyeol was. Baekkie’s a boy, he’d reply each time, Just like me, sighing when he has to correct them every time they addressed Baekhyun as the ‘Cute Miss’.
There was a traveling craft fair that stopped by their town every winter, and Chanyeol would find work there, helping to mend stalls while he carved Christmassy figurines and items to sell. His stints at the craft fairs had proven to be quite lucrative - the works he had done during the autumn school term had a tendency to sell rather well, and he’d come home to Baekhyun with his pockets full of cheques and cash and a bag full of groceries for hotpot, huge grin plastered on his face when Baekhyun screams and jumps him at the sight of “Meat!!!!!!!!”
Baekhyun was terribly weak against the cold but their apartment was cheap and didn’t have heating, so the smaller one had taken it upon himself to declare Chanyeol as his own personal living, breathing heater, latching on to him as much as possible anywhere and everywhere.
Not that Chanyeol minded of course.
“C-c-cold.” Baekhyun grumbles as he walks straight into Chanyeol’s outstretched arms for a hug, sliding his hands past Chanyeol’s coat and around his sides, relaxing a little at the comforting body heat. “Warm.”
“Why are you so warm?” He’d mumble to himself, squeezing Chanyeol tight. “Why are you never cold?”
“Maybe it’s a tall people thing,” Chanyeol would joke, yelping when Baekhyun gives his sneakered foot a hard stomp. “Ow.”
Stop moving, He’d say, wiggling a little, body still plastered to Chanyeol’s. I need to de-frost, and Chanyeol would take his hand and pull him behind the counter of the stall when he’s back to being pliant again, sitting Baekhyun down next to him on the bench instead of his lap so he doesn’t get fired for excessive PDA.
“How was rehearsal?” He asks, taking the red scarf from his neck and wrapping it around Baekhyun’s fingers when he spots the other blowing puffs of air into his hands. All the music students were involved with the school’s annual Christmas recital - the town’s most exciting event, and arguably the highlight of the winter break.
“Bad.” Baekhyun looks down dejectedly as he bites his lip, and Chanyeol frowns, worried. “They gave me a solo but I screwed it up, Yeol.”
“Keep trying,” He squeezes Baekhyun reassuringly, knowing all too well that the smaller boy would, without a doubt, practice until he could play his part perfectly. Baekhyun nods quietly, the comfortable silence between them only broken when Baekhyun sneezes, smiling gratefully when Chanyeol hands him tissues.
Baekhyun wakes up to a warm pair of woolen gloves on his hands and a scarf around his neck the next day, staring at his covered hands in confusion when he tries to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Chanyeol’s already gone but he’s left a note, a yellow post-it stuck to Baekhyun’s forehead, and Baekhyun rolls over to squish their two cats when he reads it.
Stay warm, Baekkie!
<3, Your unavailable heater.
Maybe it's the cold, maybe it's the feeling of nostalgia and loneliness that comes with winter, but Baekhyun had an odd habit of wanting to shower together on particularly chilly days, waiting patiently for Chanyeol to be done with work before dragging him to the bathroom, losing articles of clothing along the way, scattered haphazardly in the walkways. They usually end up doing much more than just showering, bodies pressed together in their tiny bathroom, panting as the hot water flowed down their backs, Baekhyun’s fingers digging into Chanyeol’s shoulderblades to keep himself from slipping when the other sucks at his neck, leaving a trail of red marks along his collarbone.
“Shh,” Chanyeol would hush the smaller one when moans start to slip past his throat and echo in the small space. “The landlady will get mad at us again.”
He chuckles when Baekhyun starts to nibble at his ear, pulling back to glare at Chanyeol with flushed cheeks and half lidded eyes.
“So shut up and kiss me then,” Baekhyun smirks, breathing heavily, watching as water droplets fell from the ends of Chanyeol’s fringe. His hair was a lot longer when wet, curls mostly straightened from the weight of the water, and Baekhyun loves it, loves the way his fringe falls over his eyes and tickles his nose, threading his fingers through the wet locks when Chanyeol obliges and presses him to the tiled wall, finishing up what Baekhyun had started when he had gone straight for his belt the moment he had stepped through the door.
They’re huddled up in bed later, Baekhyun wearing Chanyeol’s hoodie Because its warmer with Chanyeol’s head in Baekhyun’s lap, hair reverting back to its usual messy state as Baekhyun towels it dry, when Baekhyun falls unnaturally quiet.
Why do you love me so much he asks, barely a whisper, timidly into the silence, fingers that were previously playing with Chanyeol’s ears stilling, and Chanyeol sits up, poking Baekhyun in the cheek so the other looks him in the eye.
Because you are Byun Baek Hyun - he starts, smiling warmly, before letting his head rest on Baekhyun’s shoulder - and I am Park Chan Yeol.
♣
*
“I have to leave,” Chanyeol tells him over the phone on a Wednesday afternoon in December. “The school is sending me away for a couple of months on a woodwork course. They just told me today.”
Minseok gulps.
“When do you go?” He asks, furrowing his eyebrows, grip on the phone tightening.
“Saturday morning. What do I do hyung? I won’t be able to tell Baekkie,” Chanyeol sighs into the receiver. “I won’t get to see him before I go either.”
“And I might not be back before his release date. Hyung what should I do? I can’t not go but I can’t miss Baekkie’s release either, hyung, what if he thinks I’ve abandoned him when I stop visiting? Hyung what should I do oh god what should I do - ”
“Chanyeol. Calm down,” Minseok sighs, rubbing his temples to soothe his headache. “Stop panicking okay? Meet me on Friday at one am.”
“Huh? Why?” Chanyeol asks, confused, and Minseok looks around before he lowers his voice and whispers into the receiver.
“Just come alright?” Minseok hisses when he hears footsteps and sees another officer rounding the corner. “I have to go. Make sure you come on Friday okay?”
He waits until Chanyeol mumbles an okay on the other end before he hangs up, hurrying back to his post.
*
Chanyeol shows up at the gates right at one am on Friday night, bundled up in his long coat, wearing his usual sneakers. Minseok scurries over to him the moment he spots him, grabbing his arm and dragging him along the side of the building, flashing his ID pass to the security guard on duty before pulling Chanyeol through a series of blank corridors.
“Hyung?” Chanyeol asks quietly. “Where are you taking me?”
“To see Baekhyun.” Minseok explains, motioning for Chanyeol to stay silent. “I’m not allowed to do this so you can’t wake him up, but you’ll get to see him at least. I’m sorry this is all I can do for you.”
Chanyeol nods when he unlocks the door leading to the section where Baekhyun’s cell is, and Minseok ushers him in quickly before closing the door behind them. Seventh cell, right at the end, he whispers to Chanyeol before nudging him in the right direction, staying by the door to keep watch. You have ten minutes okay?
He watches as Chanyeol’s back as the tall male walks quickly but quietly to the end of the hallway, slowing when he reaches Baekhyun’s cell. Baekhyun should be asleep by now, Minseok thinks, and he panics a little when Chanyeol takes a step forward and lets his fingers grip the steel bars of the cell.
But Chanyeol doesn’t say a word, doesn’t wake Baekhyun up just like he told him not to.
He just stands there while his knuckles turn white, and Minseok can’t begin to imagine how hard it is for him to hold back when Baekhyun’s barely two meters away, almost within reach, curled up on his hard bed, sleeping. Chanyeol watches him sleep and nothing more, squatting down to slip an envelope through the bars. He’s halfway back down the corridor when Baekhyun mumbles something and they both freeze, Minseok with his hand on the doorknob and Chanyeol mid-step.
Chanyeol.
It isn’t very loud, but in the dark of the night Baekhyun’s voice rings out loud and clear as light, and Minseok doesn’t know what to do when Chanyeol slumps against the wall and crumbles into a thousand pieces, shaking as he cries into his knees.
*
Chanyeol hasn’t been home in a while.
It’s already the end of spring and the rain is falling gently as he stares out the window, reacquainting himself with the streets and corners of his hometown as his sister drives them through puddles, humming along to the beat of the song that’s playing from the radio. Kyungsoo and Suho are snoozing in the back seat, blue and green eyes peeking open every once in a while when they go over bumps in the road. They had gone to stay with Chanyeol’s family while he was away, and he thinks his sister might have spoilt them a little too much, judging from how much bigger they look.
“It’s today isn’t it?” She asks when the song changes to an old familiar love ballad, and Chanyeol sings quietly along, remembering the lyrics from the many times Baekhyun had played the CD on their radioset.
“Yeah.” He smiles, eyes forming happy crescent moons. “Yeah it is.”
He spots their apartment when they round the corner, brass number plate glinting softly in the dim morning light, and he can’t help but smile when he recalls his first encounter with Baekhyun, six years ago in the summer.
His sister helps him with his bags once they’ve reached, and they joke about being old while they struggle with the stairs, laughing cheerfully. The cats have climbed up ahead of them and are already clawing at the door when they reach the top, meowing impatiently when Chanyeol puts down the box he’s holding to give his sister a hug before she goes.
“Call me if you guys need anything okay?” She says, squeezing her baby brother tightly. He nods into her shoulder, letting go only when Kyungsoo paws at his leg, and she laughs, ruffling his hair before she turns to leave, down the stairs and out of sight.
“You’ve gotten fat,” Chanyeol chuckles into Kyungsoo’s ear when he picks the cat up and sticks his key into the lock, turning it and nudging the door open with his foot. Suho runs in eagerly and Kyungsoo follows after, breaking free from Chanyeol’s grip, bell tinkling airily as he pads over to where their cat bed used to be. The apartment hasn’t changed at all since he’s left. Aside from the simple tidying up his sister had helped him with the day before, everything is exactly as he remembers. Baekhyun’s wind chimes are still hanging by the windows, cloud curtains still drawn. The two calendars Chanyeol used are still on the kitchen counter, Baekhyun’s festival flyers still stuck to the fridge, the second hand of their smiley face clock on the wall ticking away, the photographs of him and Baekhyun together still tacked to the wall. He laughs when he spots the photograph of Suho as a kitten and a much thinner Kyungsoo that Baekhyun had taken the day they got Suho back from the vet.
Chanyeol spends the day unpacking.
He hangs his clothes back in the wardrobe, in the empty space on the right. Baekhyun’s clothes are still there on the left side - untouched, waiting for his return. He flops onto their bed when he’s done, staring at the ceiling, checking his watch for the time ever half hour or so.
He gets up at five, when the cats start to climb all over him, and heads back into the kitchen to fix them their dinner.
At five thirty he changes back into his favourite hoodie and jeans and puts on his socks.
At six he slips on his sneakers, stuffing his wallet into his pocket, grabbing the orange cap hanging by the door next to Baekhyun’s keys before heading out.
It’s time to bring Baekhyun home.
*
He gets there half an hour early. Minseok had sent him a postcard a couple of weeks ago with the date and time of Baekhyun’s release, telling him to come back soon. Chanyeol sits down on the curb opposite the gates, in between two cars, fiddling with his shoelaces while he waits. He has the orange cap on his head. He pulls his hood up when it starts drizzling again, watching the ground as the raindrops colour the pavement with spots.
He looks up when he hears the creak of rusty hinges at seven and falls in love all over again with the tiny figure standing there, cold and alone.
Baekhyun looks slightly to his left and a little hopefully to his right before he bites his lip and looks down. Chanyeol can see the way his fingers dig into the paper bag of his belongings, sighing. He looks like he doesn’t know where to go.
Chanyeol watches as he takes a tentative step forward, hesitating before he stops and turns back around. He hasn’t seen Chanyeol yet. Baekhyun’s about to start walking again when Chanyeol speaks, standing up slowly with weak knees.
“Hey Tiny Boy,” He calls out, and Baekhyun freezes, staring at Chanyeol in disbelief as the other walks over to him, eyes going wide. The paper bag slips through his fingers when Chanyeol cups his cheek gently, smiling the bright smile he knows Baekhyun loves before he reaches for the orange smiley face cap with his other hand and fits it perfectly on Baekhyun’s head. It’s an indescribable feeling, to be able to touch Baekhyun again, and he’s pretty sure Baekhyun can feel the way his hand is trembling on his cheek, can hear the way his voice is wavering when he speaks.
“I’ve missed you,” He chokes out when he feels a wetness on his hand that he’s sure aren’t raindrops, pulling Baekhyun towards him when he feels Baekhyun’s fingers curl into the fabric of his hoodie, tugging him closer weakly.
Chanyeol stands and tries to be strong, cradling the boy he loves so, so much while he breaks apart, crying his heart out, back in the safety and warmth of Chanyeol’s arms.
Let’s go home.
*
♣
They cycle to the field again the next day, Baekhyun’s face pressed into Chanyeol’s back while the taller one pedals, making sudden turns and stops so Baekhyun’s arms wrap even tighter around his waist. He lets Baekhyun push him down into the grass this time, rolling away when the smaller one tries to tickle his sides, not caring about the grass that’s gotten into his hair.
“Come back here!” Baekhyun laughs when he continues to roll away, pouncing on him and sitting on his chest while they both giggle childishly when Chanyeol sneezes, allergies finally catching up with their fun. He sits up when Baekhyun holds a tissue to his nose, smiling dopily when he sees the wooden band around the ring finger of Baekhyun’s left hand, thinking about the matching one he’s got on his own hand. He blinks when Baekhyun leans forward and steals a kiss from him, tugging him down so that he can rest his head on Baekhyun’s shoulder.
“Baekkie?” He starts, playing with the clover pendent that’s hanging from the leather cord around Baekhyun’s neck, back where it belongs.
“Hmm?”
“Don’t ever do that again,” He mumbles. He can feel Baekhyun’s fingers threading through his hair, and he shifts a little closer. “We have money now… we can buy you a proper piano, we could move away if you want. Go somewhere new, start over.”
“Just. Don’t you ever leave me again.”
“I won’t,” Baekhyun says firmly into his ear before he wiggles until he’s resting on top of Chanyeol again, leaning down to kiss him - slowly, patiently, because now they’ve got all the time in the world, all the days and hours and seconds they could ever count, together.
“Hey Baekkie?” He whispers to the other when they pull apart, staring up at Baekhyun, who’s blocking out the sun.
“Hmm?”
“I’ve found it - ” He smiles, taking Baekhyun’s wrist, thumb brushing gently over the spot where he knows the ink is, before holding it to his heart.
“- my four leaf clover.”
♣
end.
a/n: much love to uchouten ~ ♣♣♣♣ i'm an idiot when it comes to coding so if the spacing and stuff is wonky IM SORRY OTL OTL OTL Also, Kyungsoo and Suho are their pet cats.
Thank you for reading~! :3