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When the big project is finally complete – and Joonmyeon finally calms down and stops giving everyone these reproachful looks whenever the complaining got really bad and stops sending motivational quotes via email – their boss decides that the best way to finish off two weeks of nothing but each other for company is to spend even more time together, this time for team bonding at some bar Joonmyeon’s art friend recommended.
Kyungsoo really just wants to go home and finally sleep without being woken by his phone pinging with emails every few hours. Maybe he can get a bath in too. And besides, he doesn’t think he can trust the recommendation of someone who calls themselves ‘Kriscasso’ unironically.
“C’mon,” Minseok says, leaning against Kyungsoo’s desk and effectively stopping the younger from sending off the last few emails. “We’ve been cooped up in this place for two weeks. I don’t even remember what daylight looks like.”
“It’s night right now,” Kyungsoo says drily. “So wait for tomorrow.”
“C’mon,” Minseok says again. “I’m not letting you say no. Team bonding is actually fun, you know. Sometimes Chanyeol gets too drunk and it’s really funny. That kid can’t handle his alcohol.”
Kyungsoo chews on the inside of his lip in contemplation. He does skip out on these more often than not, a product of his introversion, and Joonmyeon’s been kind enough not to take it personally. Kyungsoo can’t help but think of what Baekhyun would do if he were here.
(But Kyungsoo already knows, because he knows everything about Baekhyun. He knows that Baekhyun would be friends with not only every member of their team but also the people at front desk and the janitors. He knows that Baekhyun would bring coffee for everyone in the morning, never expecting anything in return. He knows that at moments like these, Baekhyun would grin happily up at Minseok, would be gathering everyone up to head out, would make sure the junior intern Zitao didn’t get lost on his way to the bathroom again.)
“Are you coming?” Minseok asks.
Kyungsoo exhales. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m coming.”
The thing about first loves, Kyungsoo learns, is that they never really leave you.
In the physical sense, yes, they’re gone, but Kyungsoo’s heart apparently hasn’t gotten the message because he still finds himself looking for Baekhyun even though they broke up years ago.
Maybe it’s because Baekhyun’s the only person he’s ever loved – (still loves) – or maybe it’s because the way they left things off at the end of that fateful August was so ambiguous that Kyungsoo still has trouble sleeping on nights when his brain can’t stop replaying the way Baekhyun had left him behind to follow bigger and brighter dreams in America.
(And really, Kyungsoo can’t fault him because Baekhyun deserved bigger and brighter – deserved everything this world had to offer, and unfortunately, Kyungsoo only ever had his heart and a tiny apartment with temperamental heating and noisy neighbours.)
Kyungsoo still finds himself turning his head to find the owners of warm laughter and bright smiles, has trouble telling stories when there are no fond eyes watching him and lips curled into an amused grin, can’t stop the way his heart still triples in speed when someone mentions the name ‘Baekhyun’.
The name is probably ruined for Kyungsoo forever, because it could only ever fit the boy with small hands and a big heart, who’s eyes crinkled when he smiled a bit too wide, who’d sat with Kyungsoo in the vet’s office at three in the morning when Kyungsoo’s dog was sick and in surgery, one of Kyungsoo’s limp hands curled tight in his, the other hand running soothing fingers through Kyungsoo’s hair, so warm and solid and real beside him.
The thing was – Kyungsoo and Baekhyun were good together. Everyone had thought so.
It was the way things were so easy between them, the way their voices melded together into smooth melodies without either having to try, the way Baekhyun had planted himself into Kyungsoo’s life like a sunflower amongst the thorns of the roses – growing with Kyungsoo despite the prickles of unintentional pain sometimes, because Kyungsoo couldn’t help having thorns, but Baekhyun had taught him to open up to the sun anyway – the way Kyungsoo had let him, pulling out weeds and stones and maybe even a few roses too, so that he had a place for Baekhyun in his heart, letting it grow and grow and grow until its roots spread far and wide and consumed everything in its path, but that was alright, because Baekhyun was the sun and he’d kept that part of Kyungsoo alive.
Until he hadn’t, and the sunflower was ripped out of Kyungsoo’s chest, leaving behind broken roots and dead leaves, and roses that couldn’t find the sun.
In that way, Kyungsoo really was ruined for everyone else, because there was this missing, jagged piece of himself that could only ever fit Baekhyun. It was like Baekhyun had carved this piece out of Kyungsoo, a piece that was empty and hollow and gaping, and that was probably the worst part of it, the one thing that kept Kyungsoo looking for Baekhyun even if Baekhyun was halfway around the world and had probably forgotten about Kyungsoo by now. But he couldn’t help but hope that one day that missing piece would come back, and hope really was dangerous, because it meant he could never stop himself frrom loving Byun Baekhyun.
The bar they go to is further than usual, in the art district, an area that Kyungsoo almost entirely swears off from.
(Because something about the graffiti walls and eclectic vibe makes ice settle in Kyungsoo’s stomach, reminds him of soft hands covered in charcoal, paint-splattered hair, jeans stained with clay. And Kyungsoo doesn’t like to remember those things because then he might also remember how much those details meant – still mean – to him.)
But he goes anyway, settles into the seat that gives him the easiest opportunity to escape whenever he decides to ditch and head home. Joonmyeon is paying, as usual, starting an open tab while Zitao sits close by, picking the exact same drinks that Joonmyeon does. If it were Kyungsoo, he’d probably have snapped by now, but Joonmyeon takes it all in stride, seems to fall right into his mothering role, actually.
The music is pretty muted, since the actual dance floor is downstairs, leaving a sparsely populated bar area that’s filled with a mix of office workers like Kyungsoo and the artsy, hipster types drinking foreign beer. There are places – like here, the art district – that remind Kyungsoo of Baekhyun. It reminds Kyungsoo of the way Baekhyun would look at everything like things didn’t need to be superficially beautiful to be valued. It reminds him of the way Baekhyun liked to people-watch at the park and how he’d make rough sketches of the ducks in the pond, and sometimes he’d run out of pencils so Kyungsoo started to carry them around in his pocket.
The team is rowdy enough that it blocks out most of the faint whisper of Baekhyun in his ear, the melodic voice and warm laughter, except, no, wait, Kyungsoo isn’t imagining it, and--
And there’s a blue-haired boy sitting at the bar, talking, laughing with someone Kyungsoo can’t see, and in the dimly-lit room Kyungsoo can only see a boxy smile and a smooth jawline, but then the boy shifts in his seat, and his face moves into the light, and Kyungsoo abruptly feels like all the air in his lugs has disappeared, leaving him struggling to breathe, because – because it’s him. It’s Baekhyun.
He almost can’t believe it for a second, because of all the ways he’d ever imagined seeing Baekhyun again, it certainly wasn’t like this, in unfamiliar territory, surrounded by no one who knew who Baekhyun was to him, without Jongin to give him that soft, worried look.
(Okay, maybe it was better that Jongin wasn’t here.)
He lifts the beer bottle to his lips, pretending to drink but really just watching the myriad of expressions that move across Baekhyun’s face, reading them like an open book – happiness, excitement, amusement, surprise. Kyungsoo knows them all, but that’s never really been a giant feat because Baekhyun’s always been so open about everything, as if he felt so much inside that sometimes the words got jumbled up on the way out of his mouth, so he had to use his hands and eyes and body instead.
Baekhyun looks good, Kyungsoo decides. Healthy. Happy.
He looks happier than Kyungsoo’s ever felt over the past three years, and that’s – that’s a good thing, Kyungsoo thinks, but maybe it’s also because Baekhyun found someone who could make him happy, maybe it’s the tall, slender boy he’s sitting with, and Kyungsoo finally lets his gaze drop, back down to the beer bottle he’s cradling in his hands. His eyes betray him in their burning wetness, and he forces them back, along with the feelings he’s tried to numb himself to for three years.
“You okay?” Minseok asks, beside him.
“Hm?” Kyungsoo raises his head, realizes his breathing is a little shaky. He takes a deeper breath, a calmer one. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just don’t really feel like drinking.”
“Need some water?” Minseok asks, sounding a bit concerned.
“No, it’s fine,” Kyungsoo says. The answer is automatic. “I’m fine.”
The concern on Minseok’s face clears. “Okay, just let me know.”
Kyungsoo nods. He peels the label off the beer bottle so he has something to do with his hands, so he can focus on something other than the luminous sunlight condensed down into a single person, sitting at the bar across the room from Kyungsoo.
Even though he tells himself not to look – he tries to pay attention to his team, to wide-eyed Zitao who only drinks when Joonmyeon does, to a drunk Chanyeol who’s got one arm around a wildly laughing Jongdae – he can’t help the way his eyes inevitably drift back to Baekhyun. Baekhyun hasn’t seen him, and Kyungsoo intends to keep it that way, but now that he notices Baekhyun, he can’t stop noticing him. Because Baekhyun, from this far away, doesn’t look like he’s changed much, save for blue hair and a slightly taller build. His eyes still crinkle when he laughs, he still has the habit of drumming on the table to whatever song is playing on the speakers. Baekhyun’s fingers are stained with paint, like they always were, because Baekhyun had always been a little uncaring about things like that, had always lived his life by colouring outside the lines.
And then there’s the biggest difference – or maybe it’s a similarity, but Kyungsoo can’t really be sure about anything anymore – of Baekhyun’s happiness, shining out of his face like sunbeams. And Kyungsoo really can’t deny that Baekhyun is still the loveliest person Kyungsoo’s ever seen.
And that makes it so difficult to tear his gaze away, he’s practically addicted to the sight of Baekhyun, but he forces himself to, catches himself the third, no fourth time staring at the beaming boy across the room, and then on his fifth glance up, Baekhyun’s staring back.
Time literally stands still and Kyungsoo freezes.
Sounds are muted in the background, and Kyungsoo vaguely registers that the boy Baekhyun was with is now gone, but all he can do is drink in the sight of Baekhyun finally, finally looking him straight on.
Baekhyun looks surprised, but really, Kyungsoo’s not shocked that he noticed Baekhyun first. It’s always been that way because Baekhyun was like a star in the night sky, so so beautiful, but also so untouchable.
And then Chanyeol’s booming laughter cuts into the white noise of Kyungsoo’s thoughts and it jerks him back to the present, the moment breaking. He turns, abruptly, to see everyone standing and going in different directions.
“What are you-” he starts to ask, and only Minseok turns back.
“We’re gonna go dance. Wanna come?”
“No,” Kyungsoo says before he can really think about it. He detests dancing, mostly because he sucks at it.
Minseok shrugs, like he already knew Kyungsoo’s answer, and with one finally clap on the shoulder, Kyungsoo’s left alone. He breathes a soft sigh of relief, pulling out his phone, intent on texting Jongin to come pick him up and maybe Kyungsoo can cajole him into going for fried chicken, so that Jongin will be more preoccupied with eating than listening, and Kyungsoo can casually mention that he saw Baekhyun again.
He’s halfway through typing a text when a warm hand falls on his shoulder, and he jumps in surprise, glancing up at Baekhyun.
It’s no less startling this time, but Kyungsoo manages to get a grip on himself and he clears his throat, shifting backwards a little bit so that Baekhyun’s hand falls from its place on his shoulder. Baekhyun blinks, and then snatches his hand back, like he hadn’t realized he’d reached out to Kyungsoo in the first place.
“Um,” Baekhyun says, voice soft and hesitant. “Can I join you?
And there are a lot of ways Kyungsoo could answer this – 10 ways to tell your ex to fuck off! the magazines all bragged – and he means to get up and walk out but instead he nods warily, moving a few empty bottles and glasses out of the way. Baekhyun slides into the empty seat.
It’s silent for a moment, and Kyungsoo stares down at his hands, wishes he still had that beer bottle to peel the label off of, but settles for folding his fingers together, trying to look the picture of nonchalance. Baekhyun open and closes his mouth a few times.
This close, Kyungsoo realizes that there are more differences to Baekhyun than he originally thought. Baekhyun looks thinner, more tired too. The edge of a tattoo peeks out from under the neck of his shirt.
“Um, so,” Baekhyun’s picking at his fingernails, a nervous habit. “How are you?”
“Fine,” Kyungsoo says. It’s his standard answer.
“Good,” Baekhyun says. “That’s good.”
It’s silent for another moment, and then Baekhyun opens his mouth again. “How’s Jongin?”
“He’s fine too,” Kyungsoo still can’t look Baekhyun in the eye, instead stares somewhere straight ahead. “He finally told Sehun how he felt. They’re living together now. Adopted three dogs too.” He doesn’t mention that Jongin witnessed Kyungsoo’s breakdown firsthand and decided that he had to tell Sehun how he felt because he never wanted to go through what Kyungsoo did.
“Wow, really?” Baekhyun breaks into a small grin. Kyungsoo knows because he can hear it in his voice. “I wonder how Jongin managed to convince Sehun to adopt three.”
“Actually, Jongin would probably own the whole adoption centre if he had his way,” Kyungsoo’s lips quirk upwards. “Sehun managed to settle on three.”
Baekhyun laughs, not as bright and cheery as before, but just as warm. It makes something jar in Kyungsoo, makes it a little harder to tamp down on the feelings he keeps under lock and key.
“There’s a dog park near my place,” Baekhyun says. “I wonder if Jongin would let me take them for a day.”
“You live…here? In Seoul?” Kyungsoo asks before he can stop himself. It can’t be true, because Baekhyun had left for America three years ago, with no promise of ever coming back. So he can’t – he can’t just be back now, and worse, be back for good, without Kyungsoo knowing. The only thing that had gotten him through these past three years was knowing that Baekhyun was gone for good, and Kyungsoo could pretend that whatever they had was something from another life.
“Yeah,” Baekhyun says, smile sliding off his face. He looks nervous again. “I only moved back a few weeks ago.”
Kyungsoo stays silent for a moment, everything inside him warring – his feeling for Baekhyun, the betrayal, the utter despair that Kyungsoo had felt when Baekhyun had left without even saying goodbye. “What are you doing, Baekhyun?” He asks, finally, tiredly, but the lack of a ‘hyung’ softens it, hints at his invariable affection for Baekhyun.
“Well, I-” Baekhyun starts, stops, chews on his bottom lip. “I’m back. In Seoul. And – I don’t want us to be strangers.”
Kyungsoo frowns. “I don’t understand.”
There’s nervousness tucked into the corners of Baekhyun’s lips, and it’s something Kyungsoo hasn’t seen in a long time, not since he first met Baekhyun. Back when Baekhyun and Kyungsoo were like two asymptotes, always drawing closer but never quite touching.
“We never actually – I mean, we didn’t ever, technically, break up,” Baekhyun blurts out.
Kyungoo’s eyes shutter. Baekhyun, more than anyone else, had always been able to hurt Kyungsoo the most. It was probably because Kyungsoo had opened himself up completely to Baekhyun’s disarming warmth that when it was taken away, it left Kyungsoo vulnerable to the cold, to the painful burn of frostbite as his heart slowly froze. And Kyungsoo didn’t know that Baekhyun’s words could ever pierce him like this, but they do, shards of ice cutting into the fragile hold Kyungsoo has on the last bits of warmth he tries to protect.
Baekhyun’s watching him with these panicked eyes, like maybe he didn’t mean to say that, or that maybe he did, but not in those exact words. Kyungsoo doesn’t care.
“You didn’t speak to me for a week and then got on a plane to New York without saying anything,” Kyungsoo says in this frigid voice. It matches the frost in his eyes. “I got the hint.”
“I – I can explain,” Baekhyun says.
“I don’t want to hear it,” Kyungsoo moves then, shoving his chair backwards and gathering his coat. He hates this, how this desperate part of himself wants to stay with Baekhyun, hear Baekhyun’s explanation, forgive Baekhyun.
“Wait, hold on,” Baekhyun’s scrambling to his feet behind him, but Kyungsoo doesn’t turn to look.
(Maybe he slows his pace, though, because – because maybe there’s a part of him that’s wants to hear what Baekhyun says, wants to know if Baekhyun’s still the stubborn boy he was at twenty-two, wants to know if Baekhyun will ask to see him again.)
“Wait, Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun catches up, one hand gripping Kyungsoo’s wrist to turn him around. Kyungsoo tries to shake him off – though not very hard – but this time Baekhyun holds on. “Take this.”
He’s holding a pamphlet, one that Kyungsoo glances down at but doesn’t reach for. Something in Baekhyun’s eyes flicker and then he shoves the pamphlet into the pocket of Kyungsoo’s coat. “Read it, okay? And – I hope that you come.”
Kyungsoo doesn’t give him and answer, but he doesn’t take the pamphlet out of his pocket and chuck it at Baekhyun’s face either, which is something that the petty side of him wants to do.
He turns and walks out, and this time Baekhyun doesn’t follow.
“He’s back?!”
Kyungsoo was wrong about the chicken. Jongin wasn’t distracted enough to not pay attention. Or maybe it was because Baekhyun was such a huge part of Kyungsoo’s life that he was also inadvertently a part of Jongin’s, since he was Kyungsoo’s best friend and all.
Jongin’s gaping at him, chicken suspended in the air by his chopsticks, halfway to his mouth. The chicken is a treat, because Jongin’s training as part of the national ballet means he’s usually on a pretty strict diet.
“You’ll catch flies,” Kyungsoo says drily. When Jongin continues to stare, he sighs. “Yeah, he’s back.”
“For good?” Jongin sets down the chicken, seemingly losing interest in it, and that means he finds this really serious. And it probably is, but Kyungsoo doesn’t want it to be.
“I guess,” Kyungsoo shrugs. “He said he has a place here. And he gave me this.”
He pulls the pamphlet out of his coat pocket. It’s frayed, the edges worn from how many times Kyungsoo’s opened and closed it over the past week. He smooths out the wrinkled paper on the kitchen table. “He has an art show going on.”
“Well,” Jongin says. He’s leaning over the table to look down at the pamphlet. “I guess those years in New York paid off then.”
Kyungsoo shrugs noncommittally. Truthfully, he’s always thought Baekhyun was an amazing artist, even before he left, but New York had always Baekhyun’s dream, and he’d left everything – and everyone – behind for it.
“He gave it to you?” Jongin repeats. “So then, he invited you? He wants you to go?”
“Yeah,” Kyungsoo says. “I don’t know, though.”
“You shouldn’t!” Jongin says immediately, worryingly. “Hyung, you shouldn’t go back to him, after what he did to you.”
“I’m not going back to him,” Kyungsoo says. “It’s not like it’s a date or anything. I think he just wants to reconnect with everyone here.”
“But still,” Jongin worries on his bottom lip. “He hurt you, before.”
Kyungsoo’s silent for a second. Sometimes he wishes that Jongin hadn’t witnessed everything that happened – Kyungsoo’s spiral from snarled I couldn’t care less about Byun Baekhyun’s to broken what did I do wrong?’s – because it made it harder, at times like these, to pretend that nothing had ever happened between Kyungsoo and Baekhyun. Maybe it’s just his selfish desire to ignore what was probably the worst moment of Kyungsoo’s life.
“That’s not what’s important,” Kyungsoo says finally. “We’re not twenty-one anymore. I don’t love him anymore.”
Jongin looks a little doubtful, but he’s nice enough to keep it to himself. “Okay.”
“So, just,” Kyungsoo continues. “I know that Baekhyun was pretty close to you guys too, especially to Sehun. So if he wants to reconnect with you guys, I don’t want you to refuse just because of me. I’m – I’m okay with you guys being friends.”
“Who being friends?”
Sehun walks into the kitchen, three dogs running in behind him to gather around Jongin. As much as Sehun grumbled about taking care of three dogs before they adopted, Kyungsoo knows that Sehun loves the puppies as much as Jongin does. Because Sehun’s work as a lawyer is demanding, and Sehun only takes time off for the things he loves – Jongin and their three dogs.
“My babies!” Jongin drops his food and drops to the floor, allowing his three dogs to jump up and lick his face.
Sehun drops into an empty seat. “Hey hyung.”
Jjanggu detaches from Jongin and nudges his head against Kyungsoo’s knee, like he realizes Kyungsoo needs some love too. Kyungsoo reaches down to pet him. “Baekhyun’s back,” he says.
Sehun glances at Jongin. “No way.”
“Yep,” Jongin says, and then his expression turns sour. “You know what he said to Kyungsoo?”
“Jongin,” Kyungsoo tries to cut in, but it isn’t forceful.
“He said ‘technically we never broke up’. Can you believe that?” Jongin’s frown looks out of place with the two dogs that are excitedly jumping all over him.
Sehun’s forehead creases. “That’s pretty selfish.”
“Guys, c’mon,” Kyungsoo says, beginning to regret coming over.
“No, hyung,” Sehun turns to him. “Look, I know Baekhyun. I knew him before you did. And Baekhyun’s never been good at apologizing. He’s not good at saying ‘I was wrong’. It’s not a pride thing, it’s – I don’t know, I think it’s more that he just likes it when people think good things about him. It’s selfish that he can’t apologize even now. Even after what he did to you.”
“Can we stop talking about it like he stabbed me or something?”
“He stabbed you metaphorically,” Jongin mutters.
“He didn’t metaphorically do anything to me,” Kyungsoo says. “Look, I just came to say that if he wants to be friends with you guys, don’t put me in between, okay? He looks like he’s grown. He looks-” happy.
“You can’t honestly think we’d do that to you,” Sehun says.
“You knew him before I did,” Kyungsoo says. “I’m not taking that away from you.”
Sehun stares at him, and then something in his expression changes, something turning sympathetic, but the last thing Kyungsoo wants is pity.
“Do you want us to come with you to the art show?” Jongin pipes up. His dogs have left the room, and Jongin heaves himself off of the floor and into the chair next to Sehun. Almost instantly, Sehun drops a heavy arm onto the back of Jongin’s chair and Jongin scoots closer, leaning into Sehun’s solid form.
“No,” Kyungsoo says. He considers it, but, “no. If you guys want to go, you can go. But I think I want to do this alone. I want to be able to do this alone.”
“Okay,” Jongin agrees quietly.
“Thank you,” Kyungsoo says sincerely. He doesn’t say it enough to Jongin and Sehun, who put up with him more than anyone else, who’ve never once complained about Kyungsoo joining them on what should be dates, who’ve never once excluded Kyungsoo from their small circle of friends despite Kyungsoo being the only single one.
The art show is held in one wing of the art gallery, a place Kyungsoo had never thought he’d go back to.
(He’s reminded of his first date with Baekhyun, where Baekhyun had tried so hard to impress Kyungsoo with his knowledge of artists and art history, but Kyungsoo was already halfway in love already, more focused on the way Baekhyun held his hand and the nervous pitch of Baekhyun’s voice than on the paintings in front of them.)
It’s Baekhyun’s show, apparently, but there are a few other up-and-coming artists on display too, and Kyungsoo walks into the room of works by Kim Taehyung. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to look at Baekhyun’s work yet, if he can look at the art that tells the story of the time Kyungsoo didn’t know him, but maybe he just needs to work his nerve up and—
“Hey! Hey!”
Kyungsoo whirls around, and – and it’s the boy, the one who had been sitting with Baekhyun the night at the bar. The lanky boy is dragging another boy along with him, this one more muscular and darker-featured.
“It’s you!”
Kyungsoo blinks.
“Taehyung…” The dark-haired boy murmurs.
“No, Jeonggukie, it’s him I swear,” Taehyung turns back to Kyungsoo. “You’re D.O!”
“Uh,” Kyungsoo says. Honestly, he’s still kind of shocked.
“You look exactly like him,” Taehyung informs him.
“I don’t know who that is,” Kyungsoo decides to say.
“It’s a painting,” Jeongguk explains. “A favourite, actually. A lot of critics have been praising it.”
“Oh.” Kyungsoo says awkwardly. He’s never heard of it. “Sorry, I don’t…I don’t really know that much about art.”
“It’s a pretty recent painting, hyung,” Jeongguk says at the same time Taehyung says, “That’s okay! You don’t have to know art to appreciate it!”
Taehyung says it like it’s something he’s said before, like it’s something he’s been told before, and Kyungsoo knows who it is. Who Taehyung must have heard it from. Because Kyungsoo’s heard it a million times from the same person too.
“Are you the artist? Kim Taehyung?”
“Yep!” Taehyung smiles wide, eyes crinkling at the corners. “That’s me!”
“Your work is really beautiful,” Kyungsoo compliments, and he means it. Taehyung’s artwork ranges in style, and a lot of it is overwhelming at first glance, but there’s a vibrant kind of excitement to the work, and it makes Kyungsoo feel the same way he did as a kid with a colouring book, when he used to ignore the lines and use his favourite colours even if they didn’t go together.
Taehyung flushes a little bit, becoming shyer in his modesty. “Thank you,” he says. “I worked really hard on the pieces for the gallery. But it’s really thanks to Baekhyun-hyung that they even put my stuff up.”
Kyungsoo’s heart, for some reason, speeds up at the mention of Baekhyun’s name. He averts his eyes to the painting next to him. “Ah, really?”
“Mhm,” Taehyung nods. “They kept telling me that my style wasn’t what they wanted, and kept telling me to change it, but – that’s kind of impossible, you know? And then when I told Baekhyun-hyung about what they said to me, he went to talk to them.” Taehyung lets out a small laugh. “I don’t know what he said, but they apologized to me and let me put up the stuff I’m proud of.”
Baekhyun hasn’t changed at all, Kyungsoo thinks. Still ready to sacrifice himself to defend the rest of the world.
“He sounds like a good person,” Kyungsoo says.
“He is,” Taehyung leans further into Jeongguk next to him. “I met him in New York last year, and – I mean, I’ve only known him for a year, but he’s always kind of sad, you know? Maybe that’s what makes his art so good.”
Kyungsoo doesn’t know what to say to that, so he doesn’t say anything.
“Oh, but!” Taehyung pipes up. “He’s been happier, recently! He doesn’t look so much like the world’s pressing down on him. C’mon,” he says next, moving away from Jeongguk’s side and motioning Kyungsoo to follow. “I’ll show you his stuff.”
And against his better judgment, he follows – there’s something really inviting about Taehyung – and the younger boy leads both him and Jeongguk into the next room. Immediately, there’s a difference between this artwork and Taehyung’s. And immediately, Kyungsoo knows it.
“This is the beginning of Baekhyun-hyung’s work,” Taehyung’s voice takes on a reverent sound. “You should take your time. It’s worth it.”
So Kyungsoo does, thanking them and leaving Taehyung behind with Jeongguk who’s pulling him back, saying something like, “I think he knows Baekhyun-hyung…”
The art work is both familiar and unfamiliar. It holds the same feeling of seeing a close friend after a really long time, knowing them but not knowing them. Seeing all the things that haven’t changed and all the things that have. Baekhyun’s art was always very calming to Kyungsoo, and the colours were always so pleasing to look at, but some of the art work have taken on a darker tone, something that is unfamiliar to Kyungsoo.
He hears the low murmurs of the crowd around him, the repeated acknowledgments of the painting D.O and, Kyungsoo finally decides, he should try to find it.
And when he does, he doesn’t know how he could have missed it.
Because – it’s him.
The painting is of Kyungsoo.
He stares at it, at himself, in wonder, and in something else too – incomprehension. Why would Baekhyun display this picture? Why would Baekhyun paint it in the first place?
The painting, named only D.O with no explanation underneath, uses the least harsh colours of all the works in the gallery. Smooth strokes paint together Kyungsoo’s shoulder and face, and the expression is one Kyungsoo doesn’t recognize ever making. Painting-Kyungsoo’s eyes are soft at the edges, his lips quirked into something fond, his cheeks dusted a rosy colour.
He doesn’t understand.
“You came.”
Baekhyun’s voice is filled with so much relief that he couldn’t have hidden it even if he’d tried.
Kyungsoo glances to his side. Baekhyun steps right up beside him, so that they’re both staring at the painting.
Kyungsoo’s mouth feels dry and his palms feel sweaty. “What is this?”
Baekhyun tilts his head. “It’s you.”
“No, I – I get that,” Kyungsoo doesn’t look at Baekhyun. “Why did you paint me? Why is this on display?”
Baekhyun abruptly looks very worried. “You don’t like it? I should have asked, right? You don’t like it. I’m sorry.”
Kyungsoo, suddenly, thinks about what Sehun said, about how Baekhyun could never admit he was wrong. And he can’t remember Baekhyun ever doing so when he knew him. So he doesn’t understand why here, now, Baekhyun’s suddenly decided that apologizing is something that he can do.
“I like it,” Kyungsoo says slowly. “I just. I don’t understand why you painted it.”
I don’t mean anything to you, he thinks.
“Ah.” Baekhyun says. He’s silent for a long time, and Kyungsoo doesn’t look at him. He’s trying to figure out what colour the eyes in the painting are, because it’s not his. Kyungsoo’s eyes are a dark, murky brown. In the painting, they’re warm and sparkling. Nothing makes sense.
“This is what you look like when you’re looking at me,” Baekhyun says suddenly. So suddenly, that Kyungsoo forgets his resolve to not look at the older boy, and he shifts his gaze onto Baekhyun’s flushed expression. “I – I never forgot.”
Kyungsoo’s eyes flicker back to the painting, and he’s abruptly very, very embarrassed. Because the expression on his face is so honest, so open and raw, and no wonder he could never hide anything from Baekhyun.
He wonders if he still looks like this now, when his eyes search out all the things he’s always loved about Baekhyun and catch on all the things he wants to relearn. The smooth skin, the way the flush works itself across Baekhyun’s cheekbones, the sensitive spot on Baekhyun’s neck that makes the faintest noise to escape Baekhyun’s throat.
He watches Baekhyun struggling to find words, something so jarring in the image, because the older boy has always had something to say. Seeing Baekhyun now, hands clasped together and bottom lip caught between his teeth, reminds Kyungsoo of the only other time he’s ever seen Baekhyun this nervous – when Baekhyun confessed.
And Kyungsoo’s heart starts to race, and his stomach drops, and he wants to both run away from Baekhyun but also pull him closer. He remembers when he was eighteen and fresh out of high school and ready to take on university, and meeting Baekhyun for the first time. Baekhyun was so unlike anyone Kyungsoo had ever met before, so confidant and warm and friendly to Kyungsoo’s reticence and aloofness and shyness. He remembers when he was nineteen and couldn’t understand why he would get so upset when Baekhyun would cancel plans with him for someone else. He remembers when he was twenty and finally did understand, when Baekhyun gave him a drunken New Year’s kiss, giggling as he leaned into Kyungsoo. He remembers when he was twenty-one and loving Baekhyun like he’d never loved anyone before, learning that he was able to make Baekhyun shy and flustered, wondering if stars really could fall out of the sky and become a person, because that’s what Baekhyun had to be.
He remembers being twenty-two and wishing he’d never loved Byun Baekhyun, wishing that he had never met Byun Baekhyun.
He’s twenty-five now, and just as in love with Baekhyun as ever.
“Like that,” Baekhyun whispers, eyes watery as he takes in Kyungsoo. “Like you’re looking at me right now.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to stop loving you,” Kyungsoo finally admits, both to Baekhyun and to himself.
Baekhyun looks hopeful.
“I want to, though,” Kyungsoo says, even though his heart lurches at Baekhyun’s crestfallen expression. “You – you hurt me more than anyone else. More than I ever thought anyone could.”
“I’m sorry,” Baekhyun says, finally. Kyungsoo wonders if it was hard for him to say, to accept what he had done. “I’m so sorry, I never should’ve-”
Baekhyun stumbles over his words, and then sucks in a deep breath. “If I could go back I would’ve done it differently. I realized, when I was in New York, that…that I was wrong.”
“Why’d you do it then?” Kyungsoo asks. “Why did you never say anything?”
This, too, seems difficult for Baekhyun to admit. He sucks in a quivering breath. “I – I was scared,” he says finally. “I was really, really scared.”
“I don’t-” Kyungsoo starts, eyebrows furrowed.
“When I got accepted in New York,” Baekhyun says. “I was scared. I knew I’d have to move alone, you still had another year of school, and that meant an entire year separated. Across the world from each other.”
“…So?” Kyungsoo blinks in realization. “You – you thought we couldn’t make it.”
Baekhyun nods.
There’s a lot Kyungsoo can’t understand, and doesn’t know how to put into words. “…What did I do to make you feel that way?”
“Huh?” Now Baekhyun looks confused.
“I must have done something that made you feel like we wouldn’t make it,” Kyungsoo eyes him carefully.
“No!” Baekhyun shakes his head. “It’s not you, it wasn’t that.”
“Then what?”
“I thought,” Baekhyun swallows. “I thought if I wasn’t around that maybe someone so much better than me would come around. Someone who fits you, you know? And I wouldn’t be there to stop it from happening.”
“Stop what from happening?” Kyungsoo’s voice sounds croaky to his own ears. He can’t believe that this is what made Baekhyun leave, three years ago. Baekhyun’s own over-active imagination.
“Stop you from realizing that there are these amazing people out there,” Baekhyun’s shoulders slump. “That you could have anyone.”
It’s silent after Baekhyun speaks. Kyungsoo can’t stop staring at Baekhyun in disbelief. He finally groans in frustration, one hand coming up to drag down his face. “I can’t believe this.”
“I’m sorry,” Baekhyun says, kind of meekly. “You did find someone, right? I’m too late, I knew it.” Baekhyun’s talking a lot again, a way for him to deflect emotions he doesn’t want to deal with. “Ah, I knew I should have tried to contact you when I was in New York. I’m – I’m happy for you-”
“Stop,” Kyungsoo interrupts. “Stop, just-” he shakes his head. “I never found anyone else. I didn’t want anyone else.”
He finally steps closer to Baekhyun. “You know you’re one of those amazing people, right? Fuck, Baekhyun, you’ve always been the most amazing person I’ve ever known. No one’s going to come along and change that.”
The raw hopefulness in Baekyun’s expression is really kind of beautiful, the way the unshed tears cling to Baekhyun’s eyelashes and the trusting tilt to Baekhyun’s shy smile. Kyungsoo lets Baekhyun reach for his hand and intertwine their fingers. “No one will now that I’m back.”
Baekhyun’s attempt at a joke is a little weak, like he’s testing where he stands with Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo softens, the tendrils of ice melting and he starts to give a bit of himself back to Baekhyun. And Baekhyun must realize it, because he’s moving forward, into Kyungsoo’s space, noses and foreheads bumping together, and then Baekhyun’s pressing eagerly against Kyungsoo, kissing Kyungsoo, his free hand coming up to clutch at the back of Kyungsoo’s neck.
Kyungsoo’s world suddenly shifts back into axis, broken pieces falling back into place, sunflowers blooming in his chest again. Baekhyun’s a little overeager, pressing right up against Kyungsoo until he breaks away to breathe. But Baekhyun doesn’t go far, pressing their foreheads together as they share the same air, and Kyungsoo’s vision is filled with the pretty pink flush adorning Baekhyun’s cheeks.
“Don’t – don’t leave again,” Kyungsoo whispers into the space between them. “Don’t do that again.”
“I won’t,” Baekhyun promises. His voice is rough, filled with emotion. “I won’t, Kyungsoo.” He wraps both arms around Kyungsoo’s neck and buries his face into Kyungsoo’s neck and shoulder, and Kyungsoo lets him.
Kyungsoo is twenty-six and getting dragged around New York City by an excited and enthusiastic Baekhyun.
“I don’t think we can do all this in one trip,” Kyungsoo gasps out as he follows a speeding Baekhyun. Baekhyun seems intent on showing Kyungsoo every part of New York City.
“C’mon, hurry Kyungsoo!” Baekhyun races up the stairs from the subway out into the street, dragging Kyungsoo along towards Central Park.
Kyungsoo’s finally allowed to rest when they get there, dropping to the grass and rolling onto his back to catch his breath.
“I’m not that bad,” Baekhyun sulks, but he flops down to join Kyungsoo, curling in towards Kyungsoo’s body.
“We need to make a plan,” Kyungsoo says, once he gets his breath back. “We need to actually enjoy the places we’re visiting.”
Baekhyun rolls onto his side so that he can rest his chin on his hand on Kyungsoo’s chest. “Maybe you’re just not moving fast enough, slowpoke.”
Kyungsoo doesn’t rise to the bait. He brings a hand up to fix Baekhyun’s messy hair, smoothing down the back and fingers lingering on the curve of Baekhyun’s jaw. He knows there’s a reason Baekhyun wants to try to show him everything, he knows that Baekhyun wants to share as much as he can with Kyungsoo – this side of Baekhyun that Kyungsoo doesn’t know, the missing three years.
But Kyungsoo probably knows more than Baekhyun thinks he does, because he sees those three years in the way Baekhyun admits when he’s wrong about things, in the way Baekhyun sometimes gets a little unsteady when he wakes up in the middle of the night and Kyungsoo isn’t in bed, in the way Baekhyun talks about those three years in New York both with a sense of pride and a sense of sadness. Baekhyun grew up a lot in those three years, and maybe they affected him more than they affected Kyungsoo, in some ways.
He’s always kind of sad, you know?, Taehyung had said to him, when they first met. But Baekhyun isn’t anymore. He’s content and dazzling and so so beautiful, here, now, lounging half on top of Kyungsoo. Sunshine surrounds his hair like a halo, and a healthy flush works its way across his cheekbones when Kyungsoo drags him down for a kiss. Baekhyun’s eyes are bright and open, and Kyungsoo can barely remember what it felt like not to know this kind of happiness. And he knows that he’ll never stop loving Byun Baekhyun.