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Close the Door

Chapter Text



Whoever I meet, I look for you
Even in my dreams,
I hurt over your empty seat
I toss and turn then I wake up



“You know what? Jongdae asked me the funniest thing today.”

“Oh? Care to share it?”

Chanyeol snickers, throwing his coat off his shoulders and already anticipating the hands that come up to his neck. He can see the mischief in Baekhyun’s eyes—it’s always a precedent of a great night—before the man underneath him caresses the side of his face and tugs him down for a heated kiss. Baekhyun pushes the coat further down his shoulders and kicks the door close, letting out that little moan, the one that he’s sure Baekhyun’s current boyfriend will never get enough of.

“He asked me if we’re getting back together,” Chanyeol laughs, catching Baekhyun’s bottom lip between his own lips and running his hand down his ex’s back. The hands slide down to the buttons of his shirt.

“Yeah,” Baekhyun replies, a little breathless. Truth be told, Baekhyun looks magnificent with a touch of pink on his cheeks. “It’s hilarious,” the man adds, almost like an afterthought, before pushing against his shoulders and breaking the kiss for good.

Okay,” Chanyeol pushes air out of his lungs, wrangling a smile to dangle on his lips, before he throws his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “What have I done this time?” He asks, brows drawn together as he watches his ex-boyfriend zip himself up like they weren’t in the middle of making out just seconds ago.

“Nothing,” Baekhyun quips and pats his chest. “I just remembered that I have a date tonight."

“Alright,” Chanyeol purses his lips together, stopping himself from voicing out the frustration climbing up his throat, and sighs, “And now tell me the real reason we can’t have sex hours before your imaginary date.”

“I do have a date.”

“With whom?”

“You hate him. Anyway, Yeol, look,” Baekhyun smiles—and it’s the one that Chanyeol hates because it’s too damn bright and it brings back more memories than he’d like to admit—and steps closer to play with the loose black around his open shirt. “Since you’ve mentioned it… this thing we have going on… it isn’t going to be anything more, is it? We’re not getting back together again right?”

“Absolutely. No strings attached,” Chanyeol lies—Chanyeol knows to himself that it’s a lie—and he feels like throwing himself down a staircase would be easier than noticing how his ex’s eyes catch light and how they avoid looking into his, after he has opened his mouth to answer.

“Good,” Baekhyun says as he dusts the pieces of Chanyeol’s invisible hopes of actually taking Baekhyun to his bed tonight; of waking up to Baekhyun and sharing breakfast and kisses tomorrow; of actually getting back together instead of simply dreaming at night about it.

It’s the right answer, saying that they should remain as each other’s option to fool around with. It’s the right answer and Chanyeol knows it is—because he can’t bear to be Byun Baekhyun’s boyfriend and drive himself insane whenever the arguments start again. It’s the answer he should want. It is what he wants, Chanyeol quickly convinces himself, because when he opens his mouth again to say something, he sees Baekhyun’s lips curve downwards into a ghost of a frown.

Baekhyun doesn’t want to talk about it.He doesn’t really want to either since they’re in a good place, but hell, he suddenly doesn’t even know what he wants right now. He doesn’t want to ruin this—sex with Baekhyun without the complications of being dysfunctional together—but he admits that sometimes, sometimes, he forgets. At the back of Chanyeol’s mind, he knows that if Baekhyun really does leave, right now, then today will be another day that he orders take-out and asks himself why he keeps getting these thoughts and why he thinks about how things used to be once he’s left alone.

“You know,” it’s Baekhyun who speaks again. “Breaking up with me is the best thing you’ve done for me,” he says, in that tone of voice that Chanyeol secretly despises because it makes things sound okay; it makes Baekhyun sound okay, and sure, and calm about everything.

Having broken up means Chanyeol doesn’t have to shout at Baekhyun for the most stupid things anymore and Baekhyun doesn’t have to give him stupid reasons to start shouting. Baekhyun doesn’t throw plates at him, hoping they would miss, and Chanyeol doesn’t break doors down, realizing too late why he changes the locks in the first place. Not being together means there wouldn’t be any crying or being petty and being jealous—just all the chemistry and physicality without getting too caught up with all the technicalities and assumptions of calling someone mine and being someone’s yours.

They’re both happy where they are. Apart.

“I know,” Chanyeol replies, as levelled as he can, as he pulls the loop of fabric off his collared neck and leaves his chest bare of his shirt. He’s not going to make a big deal out of this. He has already spent so much of his time being angry with Baekhyun before. “Getting over me is the best thing you’ve done.”

Chanyeol truly believes that things have worked out for the best even though there seems to be a small part of him that hasn’t yet fully accepted being apart yet, especially when Baekhyun pecks his lips as an unnecessarily twisted version of a goodbye.

"I got over the break up,” Baekhyun murmurs against his lips. “It’ll take me a little longer to get over you.”

Chanyeol both waits and doesn’t for the words to sink in; for them to come together and make sense. It’s easier to pretend there’s nothing to be felt than to act upon what’s left in his chest. He’s not going to ask Baekhyun to try this again with him. He’s not going to hurt Baekhyun again.

“I’ll see you later,” He answers and doesn’t resist when they both lean in for one more kiss. “The key’s where it was last time if you want to spend the night here.”

Baekhyun nods without commitment and lets a thumb swipe over the pink of his lower lip, as if to erase the memory of ever coming into contact with another, before he looks up at the younger man’s face and laughs. Then, Baekhyun is gone and Chanyeol sighs, pushing away thoughts of second chances and the feeling of his heavy heart as he closes the door.



I was a fool
What more is there to say?