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“What?” Chanyeol said. “What are you talking about? We are totally dating!”
“You guys sometimes spend your days in the same place for non-work stuff, rarely sleep together, and went on one vaguely romantic outing that could be considered a date,” Baekhyun listed off factually, as if he knew every damn thing going on in Chanyeol’s life, Kyungsoo’s life, and ChanyeolandKyungsoo’s allegedly committed nearly non-existent life. "You've done more with your hookups than what you do with Kyungsoo.”
“Well, we also are best friends,” Chanyeol reasoned, hoping that in the near future Baekhyun would not bring up the fact that he had hookups to begin within Kyungsoo’s earshot. “So I don't need to do with Kyungsoo everything that I do with strangers I want to start something with.”
“Right,” Baekhyun said doubtfully. From where he sat on the floor of Chanyeol’s couch, he petted Zzar like they were in on some joke that Chanyeol wasn’t privy to. “It's nice that your decade-long crush on Kyungsoo has devolved into new lows. Right, Zzar?”
Zzar only glanced at Baekhyun before turning away, more interested in gnawing the pork bone Baekhyun had given him when he swung by Chanyeol’s.
“Minseok-hyung knows,” Chanyeol said, as if that helped his case in any regard. That only made Baekhyun raise his eyebrows in a way that meant later when they would part ways he was going to run off to Minseok’s and interrogate him for the truth. Chanyeol wondered if he ought to be sympathetic to Minseok or annoyed that Baekhyun wouldn’t believe him but would if it was Minseok verifying it. “We’re getting off track! I think Kyungsoo is going to propose to me. We've been talking a lot lately about marriage ever since Woobin-sunbaenim got married. Then he told me to dress nice today for our candlelit dinner and said he had something important to talk about.”
“Imagine if it was a breakup,” Baekhyun mused. “Give you one last happy memory before ruining your life.”
“You didn't even believe me when I said we were dating a minute ago?”
Baekhyun waved a hand. “Irrelevant. That's a really boring proposal, which is kind of up Kyungsoo’s alley, but if you guys really were dating, I'd assume he would've made more of an effort for you. You're a lot more explosive with these kinds of things.” Chanyeol smacked him in the shoulder and Baekhyun hastily corrected, “Creative! Creative, I meant to say. You always go big or go home.”
Chanyeol pulled back, trying not to frown and let it show that Baekhyun’s words had gotten to him, if only because he had a point. Maybe there was a part of Chanyeol that originally felt disappointed at the idea of Kyungsoo proposing in such a simple, traditional way, when Chanyeol might've preferred something not grander, necessarily, but something special, truly a surprise. But it had been overshadowed by the prospect of Kyungsoo proposing to begin with, and it built up over the months with their sparse conversations about it, even if it never necessarily led to an explicit confirmation. Kyungsoo laid the ground for expectation, and it made up for the lack of surprise for how he would do it. It was nice that they both wanted it, more than anything, that they liked and loved each other enough to want to commit that way. Not many couples, no matter how serious, would be on the same page with this. Even if they couldn’t really do it, the idea in itself meant everything.
“So long as it’s him asking, that’s all that matters to me,” said Chanyeol, and it came out more solemnly than he intended it to. To lighten things, he added, “Besides, I always do go big with Kyungsoo, actually, since he’s really bi—”
“Okay!” Baekhyun interrupted, covering his ears with his hands as he kicked Chanyeol into silence. “I get it, you’re dating, you’re in love, you fuck. I will never doubt you ever.”
“Thank you.”
“Wait. Why are we talking about this anyway?” Baekhyun squinted at him suspiciously. “Don’t tell me that you just wanted to brag that you’re getting hitched before I will.”
“Whose the one who so helpfully reminded me that it’s not legal here, hmm?” Chanyeol retorted, wrapping his arms around Baekhyun to playfully put him in a headlock. They tussled a bit, a surprisingly even match even though Chanyeol would’ve easily gotten the upper hand over Baekhyun any day, if only because he hadn’t been able to work out as much as he wanted to due to their last comeback. The only reason he stopped was because his eyes caught the clock in his living room, and immediately he let Baekhyun go. Baehyun wheezed and weakly pushed him away. “Oh shit, I need to get ready. I told Kyungsoo I’d meet him in thirty.”
Baekhyun stood up and adjusted his hair. “That’s not nearly enough time for you to freak out and find something nice to wear. Need help?”
“I know how to pick out an outfit,” Chanyeol scoffed. “I know what Kyungsoo likes.”
“Sure,” intoned Baekhyun dryly. As he made his way to the door, he instructed, "Slick back your hair, wear long sleeves, loosen the first few buttons of a polo. He doesn’t look it, but we both know Kyungsoo is a bit of a perv for anything subtly done.”
As if Chanyeol was listening to him. “Goodbye, Baekhyun.”
Thirty minutes later, when Kyungsoo opened the door, he seemed slightly taken aback by Chanyeol, as if he hadn’t been expecting to see him. “What?” Chanyeol asked worriedly. “Is there something wrong?”
“No,” said Kyungsoo, after a beat. “I just—I didn’t expect—you look good.” He swallowed, eyeing Chanyeol up and down appreciatively, lingering on the partially folded sleeves of Chanyeol’s cream button-down, which showed off his wrists—not even forearms, which he would’ve understood better—in a completely normal way but seemed completely sexual for Kyungsoo. Damn Baekhyun and his tendency to be right all the time, even if it was working in his favor.
“Well, you did say to dress nice,” Chanyeol replied, because to this day he still didn’t really know what to do when Kyungsoo complimented him like that, when it was such a rarity. It was different when it was Chanyeol lauding Kyungsoo with praises. He did it all the time, at first fascinated by the way Kyungsoo got flustered and pretend-angry, then eventually amused by the way Kyungsoo now pretended not to hear him even though there would be a bashful look on his face that he was terrible at hiding. “You look very handsome too.”
“I’m still in my apron,” Kyungsoo pointed out, but underneath he was wearing the polo shirt Chanyeol got him for his birthday and his hair framed nicely around his face. “You’re right on time. I just finished setting up the table.”
Dinner was homemade Japanese food. They toggled between Italian (for Chanyeol) and Korean (for Kyungsoo) and settled for trying something new, Kyungsoo inspired by the prospect of a challenge. He had fried tonkatsu with a marinade Chanyeol sent over to him and sliced sashimi with a set of knives Jongdae had given him for his birthday. The table had a new cloth laid over it, the cutlery and plateset brand new but familiar, because it was Chanyeol’s, and the arrangement of flowers at the center and the two faux candles bracketing it served as a classical touch. When Kyungsoo finally removed the apron, he smoothened the creases on his polo and donned on a tie that he put around himself properly but also slightly loosely before sitting across Chanyeol. Chanyeol felt fuzzy, like he’d chugged half a glass of wine even though he showed up completely sober. On the countertop was a bottle of fine whiskey. Maybe he would take a shot.
With dinners like these they always dressed up, agreeing it was a waste of the wardrobes they invested in if they never used them as much as they promised themselves they would, so this was nothing new, not really, except it had been their first fine dining-themed home-cooked dinner in a while, and Chanyeol knew Kyungsoo was going to propose, so it framed things in an entirely new light. Or maybe Kyungsoo just finally changed the lightbulbs of the living room like he said he would.
“How is Baekhyun?” Kyungsoo asked as they ate.
“He’s fine,” Chanyeol answered. He felt Meokmul and Hoochoo nosing at his leg, asking for a treat because they knew he and Kyungsoo were having dinner and it had been clear to them that Chanyeol was the weaker link. “Stressed, but Jumnyeon-hyung referred him to a good lawyer, so they should be okay. He and Sehun have been spending more days inside gaming. Also, you saw him yesterday.”
“I don't know if you count a joint video call with Yixing-hyung and Baekhyun as ‘seeing’ him,” Kyungsoo started. “But he did look okay. Are we set for going to Jongdae’s cookout next Sunday?”
He liked the way Kyungsoo said we even though they didn’t really go to these things together unless it was for work, typically one of them available and another unavailable, the consequence of separate schedules arising from their different interests. Lately they had been trying a bit harder to make it work though, as if they were presenting themselves now to the rest as an inseparable pair rather than lone persons. Still, they didn’t live together. No wonder Baekhyun didn't believe him.
“Yes,” Chanyeol confirmed. “We’re bringing Italian?”
“If you want to,” Kyungsoo said, though normally he was a little more decisive about these things. “We just need to opt for diversity. Jongdae’s going to grill barbeque and Jumnyeon-hyung is bringing Chinese. Not sure what the rest are bringing.”
“You don’t want to cook Korean? It’s your specialty.”
“But you want pasta, so that's what we’re bringing.”
“It’s like you like me or something,” Chanyeol teased.
“I guess I do,” Kyungsoo said. To the untrained eye, this was an innocuous statement, but Chanyeol knew better. Kyungsoo was not normally this outright about his affection, the way he conceded and prioritized Chanyeol’s wants. He did it through action, never acknowledging it unless Chanyeol pointed it out. He played favorites, but he never flaunted it. “So about that thing I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Mhm?” Chanyeol said, trying to calm his now racing heart.
“It’s about—” Kyungsoo began, reaching for his water. He accidentally knocked over his unused napkin, which had been folded neatly into a pyramid. Meokmul and Hoochoo scurried to it, falsely believing it to be fallen food, but when Kyungsoo made a shooing sound they backed off. Chanyeol watched Kyungsoo push his chair back to bend over to pick it up, and he wondered if right then and there this was going to be his segue into proposing. Immediately Chanyeol got up, eyes never leaving Kyungsoo’s. He had to commit the sight of Kyungsoo to memory, because this was the Kyungsoo who was going to propose to him.
“Yes?” Chanyeol squeaked.
“—the lease,” Kyungsoo finished. His head tilted up and he blinked at Chanyeol in confusion. “Why are you standing?”
“I—” Chanyeol couldn’t find the words, the mortification overwhelming him at the realization that he misinterpreted everything. The only thing in Kyungsoo’s hands was the napkin he intended to retrieve. It was such a small thing, but Chanyeol had known Kyungsoo for so long that he understood at least this, when he misunderstood everything else about the night: Kyungsoo was not going to propose tonight. And when Chanyeol thought about it, Kyungsoo never actually said he planned to propose. They always dressed nicely for their dates; there was no reason for this time to be any different. And Kyungsoo just said there was something important they needed to talk about, and there were so many other things for what that could’ve been. “Nothing. Just wanted to see if you needed help down there. Anyway, what about the lease?”
“I don’t see what the problem is,” Jongdae said mildly. “Moving in together is a big step.”
“I’m not saying it isn’t,” Chanyeol replied. “It’s just, I thought we’d be doing the other big step.”
“And you thought a proposal before a move in was more plausible than the other way around?” Chanyeol shot him a glare at saying The Word so explicitly, but over the sizzling sound of meat being grilled their conversation was well-masked, and they were at Jongdae’s backyard for the cookout, a safe distance away from everyone, especially the subject of the conversation, Kyungsoo. Everyone who had already showed up crowded inside, helping Jongdae’s wife prepare the room for their lunch or entertaining their kids. From afar, Chanyeol could see Kyungsoo dutifully working on the pasta in the kitchen beside Jongin, who was mixing some sort of soup. It was very risky, having a conversation about Kyungsoo when Kyungsoo was not that far away, but these were desperate times and Chanyeol had to tell someone about it. “If it helps, maybe this is one of the ways he’s building up to it. Maybe you just got the timing wrong and got ahead of yourself.”
“‘If it helps’? That means he’s not going to do it,” Chanyeol whined.
“You’re the one who told me he wasn’t doing it. I'm operating under your incredibly inaccurate intel.”
Chanyeol sighed heavily. “I'm an idiot, Jongdae,” he said. “It's over for me. I'll be husband-less for life.”
“What makes you so confident that he won’t do it when you were also confident earlier that he was going to do it?”
“Because—” Because Woobin had gotten married and for a time it was all Kyungsoo was interested in talking about. But when Chanyeol thought about it, they'd been the same way with Jongdae’s marriage, and it hadn't meant anything then. They had always enjoyed talking about their friends and their success, discussing milestones and reminiscing the way these had changed from what they originally were years ago. There was no reason why this was different.
Chanyeol trailed off. He heard his name without meaning to, said faintly but recognizably because it was said in Kyungsoo’s familiar voice. When he looked, Kyungsoo was busy talking to Jongin, gesturing at the pasta bowl before him. As if sensing Chanyeol’s eyes on him, Kyungsoo’s gaze lifted, eyes meeting Chanyeol’s. Chanyeol couldn’t help himself, and he made a kissy face at Kyungsoo to make him laugh, ignoring Jongdae’s visible gagging beside him. Kyungsoo rolled his eyes, unamused, but he was smiling as he continued on his conversation with Jongin. Right before they departed that morning for Jongdae’s, Chanyeol met Kyungsoo by his apartment and kissed him recklessly in the car five times before they eventually took off.
(“Why five?” Kyungsoo asked, because Chanyeol had punctuated each kiss while saying a number.
“One for each day I hadn’t seen you,” Chanyeol explained. “So make sure we don’t get a hundred days without each other, otherwise you might get sick of me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Kyungsoo said, and he adjusted Chanyeol’s collar before leaning back in to press his mouth against Chanyeol’s, much slower than Chanyeol’s pecks, much deeper and drawn out. It was such a Kyungsoo way to kiss, a privilege only Chanteol had of knowing. “I missed you too.”)
Such moments between them were not novel, but they were rare. Compared to other couples Chanyeol knew, they were not as showy and had never learned to be, in part because of their celebrity status, in part because they were both men, in part because they were plenty affectionate in other ways, a result of practically growing up together, starting as friends then best friends and then this, and they had never needed to be like everyone else. It was how they had lived their lives all this time, and maybe why even Baekhyun had doubted them. They had never minded it. Even if no one else knew, even if they never let it show, at least they did. There was no reason to change things.
Except—Chanyeol was here in this predicament, and he realized he did want something to change. He did want something different. Of course Kyungsoo didn’t plan on proposing, but Chanyeol presumed so, because he wanted it to be true.
On the way here Chanyeol risked a glance at Kyungsoo during a red light, watching the way he would curl his hands absentmindedly, as if soothing an ache or trying to grasp something no longer there. Kyungsoo had always been a man of purposeful gestures, and whenever he could, whenever he noticed, Chanyeol would ask, but for the first time he said nothing, eyes lingering on the shape of his fingers and how bare they seemed. Kyungsoo had never been the type, and such simplicity always suited him, but Chanyeol couldn’t help but think of how nice it would look, just to see something adorned on Kyungsoo’s finger. How innocuous it could be, yet telling as well. And even if it wasn’t to tell the world, it was to tell himself. To remind himself of what he had, and he always would.
“Because,” Chanyeol finally said. It dawned on him then, why so many people cared about this sort of thing. “I’m the one who wants us to get married. It was me this whole time, not him.”
It was a truly earth-shattering revelation, but Jongdae only continued flipping the meat he laid on the grill. It came out slightly more charred than he intended, based on the grimace he made, but he carried on. “Any louder and the whole neighborhood will hear you.”
Chanyeol glanced at the plate of meat they had already stacked up. “Please tell me you remembered to marinate this.”
“I’m no animal,” Jongdae said, even if Chanyeol was still doubtful. “If you're going to propose, I suggest flowers. You can never go wrong with flowers. It doesn't even need to be Kyungsoo’s favorites; flowers are universally loved.”
Chanyeol sniffled. “I don't know why you and Baekhyun keep thinking you know Kyungsoo more than I do.” Though it was all true. Kyungsoo didn't even have a favorite in lieu of just liking plants. In his idiocy during the early days of their dating Chanyeol bought him a cactus, mostly for the practicality of it, a sturdy little thing that could survive Kyungsoo’s unintentional neglect as a result of being too busy. But Kyungsoo had taken such good care of it that he ended up buying an array of other plants for the cactus’ companionship. “I could do a dinner out, like a place we really trust and go to frequently, and then I'd bribe the waiter to put the ring in his champagne.”
“Lame,” Jongdae said. “Also, choking hazard.”
A marriage proposal in the ER was all sorts of drama-esque, but as much as Chanyeol liked a tearjerker, he did want things to be perfect. “Fine. I’ll think of something else.”
“Do you even have a ring to propose with?” Chanyeol opened his mouth and then closed it without a word. Jongdae rolled his eyes. “You can't just jump into these. Everything special is carefully thought of. It's planned.”
“Like your pork?” Chanyeol ripped off a piece in the midst of their conversation and took a bite. “This is too salty. You’re going to ruin your kids’ tastebuds.”
“It can't be that bad,” Jongdae reasoned, but just to be safe he shot a quick glance to his wife before pushing the meat Chanyeol had cut into the plastic bag that served as their bin, hooked to their table. “They've been in the mood for some pasta lately anyway. We watched Lady and the Tramp.”
Purposely trying to recreate the spaghetti scene was theoretically romantic and had the kind of streak of silliness Chanyeol was known for, but realistically, he could not imagine Kyungsoo being particularly wooed. Besides, Kyungsoo hadn’t even seen the movie. Already Chanyeol was beginning to see why proposals took just as long as engagements.
In truth he did have a ring. Yoora had helped him pick it out, sometime after they had reconciled from what was not a years long fight but an incomprehensible tension, the kind that only siblings could make. They had initially gone out to shop for jewelry for her, but while she had been looking at pearl earrings, something had caught Chanyeol’s eye, a golden band with lines etched on it that reminded him of the sun. At the time he hadn’t gotten it because he wanted to propose; he had simply gotten it because he wanted to give it to Kyungsoo. But the time to do so had just never come up; not during his birthday, or Valentine’s, or Christmas. But every time he complained to Yoora, she had only given him a thoughtful look, as if there was something she knew that he hadn’t at the time.
If he’d been slightly doubtful before that Kyungsoo had no plans of proposing, he was certain now. Since that last date of theirs where Kyungsoo asked if they could move in together, he hadn't mentioned anything about it, nothing of marriage, nothing of weddings, so much so that Chanyeol questioned if he had mentally exaggerated Kyungsoo’s fixation on the topic when Woobin got married, when in truth it was Chanyeol’s own psyche all along, trying to get him to realize the truth of his want.
But it wasn’t as if moving in was a downgrade. It was fun, even, the kind of thing Chanyeol would've normally been completely swept in if he also didn't have other competing priorities. But while he already anticipated the difficulty of having to manage a shared living arrangement paired with secretly planning a proposal, what was unexpected was the particular challenge of where he could hide the ring now that he and Kyungsoo lived together. It should've been easier because Kyungsoo had decided to move into Chanyeol’s apartment rather than them move into his—which had been a mild shock, if only because Chanyeol spent more time at Kyungsoo’s, but Kyungsoo’s reasoning was more sound and clearly thought out; Chanyeol’s dog couldn't cope with a new living environment, while Kyungsoo’s could—but suddenly every place could've been a place that Kyungsoo would wheedle his belongings in, and thus he would find the ring. Chanyeol nearly shoved it in the space between the couch cushions before he made eye contact with Zzar, who he swore was telepathically telling him to think twice.
The change was not that jarring. He and Kyungsoo had the same interior design preferences, and they had the advantage of already knowing their living habits from their dorm days. Kyungsoo moved in gradually, but there weren't a lot of things for him to bring over to begin with; half of his clothes were already at Chanyeol’s, and there were very few appliances and furniture Kyungsoo had that Chanyeol didn't that was worth moving over.
“Should we have gotten a new place instead?” Chanyeol asked, flopping down on the couch after having put away all the boxes Kyungsoo had brought in. Like a dutiful boyfriend, Chanyeol unpacked everything Kyungsoo brought without the latter saying a word and sorted all his things in their proper place—filling shelves, drawers, closet space, putting them in between his own things, because for all his particularities this was perhaps one of Kyungsoo’s most surprising: how it mattered to him that his life was intertwined with Chanyeol’s in that way. No want for his own corner, but rather a shared space he had with Chanyeol. It was one of the ways Baekhyun was wrong about them, Chanyeol thought. They were very much a couple, even if they had done the same things when they were also just friends. But back then it was because they lacked space, rather than because they chose to share. When Chanyeol actually thought about it, he didn't even know if Kyungsoo was aware of why he wanted these things a certain way, but he didn't want to ask. It didn't change how pleased he felt at the sight, seeing his and Kyungsoo’s things mixed together, overcome with nostalgia for how they used to live and simultaneous excitement of the ironic newness of it all. It was like he was falling in love all over again.
“That would be impractical,” responded Kyungsoo. He was by the kitchen island, examining the air fryer he brought with him to see if it was in the same condition as it was this morning. “And suspicious.”
“I guess,” Chanyeol relented. Satisfied with his inspection, Kyungsoo set the air fryer aside and finally made his way to Chanyeol. “But it would've been kind of fun too, you know? We could've done some new couple things like break in the bed.”
“We’re not those kinds of people,” Kyungsoo remarked, but when he sat down on the couch he settled on Chanyeol’s lap, legs bracketing Chanyeol’s thighs. Immediately Chanyeol’s hands settled on Kyungsoo’s waist as Kyungsoo leaned closer to catch his mouth into a kiss. Chanyeol let out a sigh when he felt Kyungsoo snake his hand to rest at the back of his neck and gently squeeze it.
“Could've fooled me,” he murmured, and he could see Kyungsoo smile into his mouth before he pulled away. He leaned back slightly, just enough that meant Chanyeol could not kiss him easily, but he searched for his hands to intertwine them together, placing them in the space between them. Somehow, Chanyeol found this more disgustingly intimate than their position.
“I'm not crazy enough for couch sex,” Kyungsoo said, expression serious despite the look of disbelief Chanyeol gave him when three days ago. Kyungsoo bent him over the kitchen countertop of his old apartment under the same guise of a goodbye hallmark to the place. He was never as truly dignified as he let himself appear to be, but maybe that was mostly Chanyeol’s influence rubbing off on him. It was Chanyeol, after all, who suggested they desecrate the one place Kyungsoo would normally have never let them do anything inappropriate in, and Kyungsoo conceded, because it would be the one and only time they’d do it. “Bed?”
“At three in the afternoon?” Dramatically, Chanyeol placed a hand over his chest. “Do Kyungsoo, you really do love me.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Kyungsoo waved a hand, sliding off him. “Come on before I get offended at the state of the bedroom and change my mind.”
But when they reached the bedroom, Kyungsoo sat back and then lay down, momentarily basking in the comfort, before taking interest in all the other things in the room, their initial intention for being here now forgotten. Kyungsoo got back up and began rifling through the closet and drawers in curiosity for where his things had gone, a look of marvel in his face when he saw the way Chanyeol had placed their things together, how he sorted their watches and accessories, how he preemptively placed Kyungsoo’s easily wrinkled clothes up in hangers. It was endearing to watch, but Chanyeol froze when he realized that the drawer Kyungsoo was now going through was the drawer where he put the box.
He had not been dumb enough to just leave the velvet box out there, but he placed it in the container that belonged to his most recent watch purchase, and if Kyungsoo noticed the oddity that was Chanyeol deciding to keep it when he had a tendency to immediately toss packaging away, he was screwed.
He heard distant footsteps edging to the doorway and saw Meokmul’s head curiously peeking into their room. Her mouth was faintly wet and bits of water dripped to the rug. “Help me,” he mouthed to the dog. Meokmul blinked at him and then walked away. Dammit. “Kyungsoo,” he blurted out, when he spotted Kyungsoo’s fingers ghosting over the watch box.
“Hmm?” Kyungsoo hummed, and despite Chanyeol calling for his attention, he picked up the box. Chanyeol floundered, fighting the urge to lunge at Kyungsoo to snatch away the box or yell at him to not touch it, neither of which he could do without raising suspicion. He had to think of something.
“I think Meokmul had an accident,” Chanyeol lied, and that worked. Kyungsoo set the box down and turned, a frown on his face.
“What? Where?”
Chanyeol pointed at the damp spots by the doorway. He stifled his sigh of relief when Kyungsoo successfully walked away, calling for Meokmul, before rushing to get the watch box, remove the smaller box inside, and hastily shoved it elsewhere before Kyungsoo would continue his search. It was then that he noticed the scribble left on the watch box’s corner. The text was a bit old, slightly faded from age because it had been some months, but he could still make out what it said: a series of numbers, and below it, a name. Chanyeol did not remember it being there before, but he remembered, now that he thought about it, that when he went to the store he’d been assisted by the new hire, a young lady who was friendlier than all the other employees in the shop. She had this tendency to repeatedly run her hand up and down his arm, but he couldn’t tell, at the time, if it was simply because she was fitting the accessory on him, and Sehun always did accuse him of thinking too highly of himself. But maybe he hadn’t been wrong then, to have tried to presume something.
It did not lead anywhere, of course, and he hadn’t given her a thought. But later, there had been a small furrow between Kyungsoo’s brows that meant he was bothered about something, and when Chanyeol asked, Kyungsoo only said it was nothing. And then, to make matters worse, he said, “Why did you keep that box?”
“No reason,” said Chanyeol, which was the wrong thing to say, based on how Kyungsoo’s expression darkened. “Like, really, no reason. I don’t even know why I still have that with me when there’s nothing in it. I should throw it away right now, actually, and save us some space.”
He made a show of running to the room, bringing the box to Kyungsoo, and then tossing it in the bin within his line of sight. But Kyungsoo didn’t look relieved. Instead, he just said, “Okay” in a way that meant things were clearly not okay, and had gone back to his task of folding his and Chanyeol’s freshly washed and dried clothes. Chanyeol was acutely aware that inadvertently, he had fucked up.
“Oh, for sure, hyung,” Sehun agreed solemnly. “He definitely thinks you’re cheating on him. Or you did. That’s what you get for having a no labels relationship.”
“You know,” Jumnyeon intercepted, “Kids these days call them situationships.”
Jongin looked at Chanyeol with absolute disgust. “I thought you were better than that. For Kyungsoo-hyung, of all people.”
Chanyeol threw his hands up. “First off, I never said we were no labels. Nobody asked, and we just happened to not either. Secondly, that has no impact on our relationship whatsoever, because we also happen to be best friends, which I think is more than what I can say for the rest of you and whoever you’ve dated, so Kyungsoo and I are basically on the same wavelength for most things, and that’s why it’s worked out all these years.”
“Clearly not, if you think he thinks you’re cheating on him,” Sehun muttered into his drink.
Ignoring him, Chanyeol carried on. “And lastly, I want to marry him, for fucks sake. Why do you think I invited you all here to drink? Help me!”
“Damn, this is bribery soju,” Sehun mourned to Jongin.
At least Jumnyeon seemed sympathetic to his plight. “Chanyeol, this doesn’t have to be so hard. Just tell him you want to marry him.”
“I can’t just tell him that in order to clear up a misunderstanding,” Chanyeol stressed. “Kyungsoo deserves better than that. I need to propose when things are good, because that’s what being with him is like, and I want it to always be that way, even when it feels like things aren’t, or they won’t be.”
“That’s really gay,” Jumnyeon commented, but at least he looked chastisized when Chanyeol glared at him. “But I understand. Has anything changed between you and Kyungsoo lately?”
“No,” he replied, even though he didn't know why he said that, because it wasn't the full truth. “I mean, our schedules haven’t really aligned lately. He goes home so late that I’m too passed out to notice and whenever I’m out that’s when his schedule finishes.”
“Huh,” Jongin said. “Actually, that doesn’t mean anything. Your schedules never align.”
“They don't.” That was always how it went; the only time they really got to see each other was when they had a shared comeback or when their activities weren't as demanding. But now was an especially hectic period. After the tour they were given brief downtime that made Chanyeol complacent, but after, things picked right back up. Kyungsoo was doing the last legs of his prep for his comeback album, and Chanyeol was holed up in his studio composing for his new EP. “So I can’t tell.”
“Talk to him then?” Sehun asked. “Or, you know, communicate on the same weird frequency you say you guys operate on.”
Chanyeol lobbed a balled up tissue at him. “Keep this up and I’m not inviting you to the wedding.”
“Why don’t you think of a proposal first?”
Jumnyeon cleared his throat right before Chanyeol could lunge at Sehun. “What ideas do you have so far, Chanyeol? Rent out a restaurant? Cabin trip? An original song?”
Theoretically they were good ideas, but they could only ever be ideas. Chanyeol liked to dream up romantic scenarios for him and Kyungsoo, but it was only in his imagination that he could afford to be far-fetched from reality. They had watched movies together but never necked at the far back. They had fancy dinners but only ever at home. They did sleep together and they did sleep together, but they had never woken each other up with the smell of freshly cooked breakfast or meals in bed, and it was true; Chanyeol had done those actual things for his one night stands. He’d even written lyrics inspired by them.
“Oh god, I’ve never even written Kyungsoo a song,” Chanyeol realized in horror. “I’m a horrible boyfriend.”
“Don't sell yourself short.” Sehun patted him on the back. “It’s not your fault Kyungsoo has a long list of men in his life who have treated him better.”
There were two men, Chanyeol wanted to unhelpfully point out, and they weren't serious, just slightly more so than the rough estimate of ten women Chanyeol had seen in the entirety of his life. They did not really talk about it; it was true they were on the same page for all the important things, and that had included a time when they wanted to date other people at the same time. Then, after a few years, they stopped. They had such a brief conversation about it that if they were other people, it would've been like they never spoke at all. But so much of his relationship with Kyungsoo was about all that was unsaid. Chanyeol knew that if he voiced it out to others, they would not understand, and it wasn't a bad thing. It was a ChanyeolandKyungsoo thing.
“You could probably try that then,” Jumnyeon considered. “Put a special track in your new EP dedicated to him.”
“Oh, Chanyeol-hyung, if you do that, make sure to let us feature in it,” added Sehun. “All of us except Kyungsoo. That way when he asks why he's been left out, you can reveal that it's because it's your serenade to him.”
“Oh, I wanna be a backup singer,” Jongin said enthusiastically. “I've always wanted to help someone propose.”
“As the person who suggested it, I think I should have the most lines,” Jumnyeon said, much to Sehun and Jongin's subsequent protests.
The conversation derailed as they began talking about line distribution. Chanyeol considered reminding them that he didn't even agree that he was going to make a special song, what more a special song they were all allowed to partake in, but the alcohol had finally kicked in for all of them and in the noise of their chatter he found his thoughts drifting to Kyungsoo, and how he should've actually been here, drinking with them, only he declined because he didn't think he’d make it, and just half an hour ago he texted Chanyeol saying he just wasn't coming home tonight, because he was going to Minseok’s, without telling Chanyeol why.
Did I fuck up, he typed to Kyungsoo’s line, but he hesitated as his finger hovered over the send button. Then he deleted it and wrote something else.
찬열
Kyungsoo
There is no other person
(╥﹏╥)경수
What?찬열
I didn’t know there was a number on that box until you took it out
I wasn’t talking to anyone
I just kept that box because I kept on forgetting to throw it out
Please don’t be mad I’m sorry경수
Are we really having this conversation over text?찬열
(╯︵╰,)경수
Calm down Chanyeol
You’re so silly
I’m not upset
But thank you for telling me찬열
Kyungsoo
Please don’t avoid me
I don’t want you mad경수
I’m not mad찬열
Then come home?경수
You're not even home찬열
I'll go home right now경수
Don't
Have with hyung and the dongsaengs찬열
Kyungsoo
｡:ﾟ(;´∩`;)ﾟ:｡경수
Okay you big baby
I won't stay at Minseok-hyung’s tonight찬열
Why are you at hyung’s anyway?경수
We’re breaking in the wine we bought him from Vietnam찬열
You’re drinking!
You should’ve invited him over with us경수
He’s drinking
Not me
But I’ll still be home late
Probably later than you찬열
It's okay
I'll wait up for you
I’ll make tea and everything경수
You're going to fall asleep찬열
I won't
I’m strong tonight
ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ경수
Of course you are찬열
Okay
I miss you
(◕n◕)경수
Me too
(By the time Kyungsoo returned to the apartment, Chanyeol had in fact fallen asleep, head and arms plastered on the dining table, hands cradling around the cup of tea to keep it still warm as he waited for Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo woke him up gingerly, taking him gently by the hand into the bedroom. Chanyeol mumbled protests that didn’t make such sense to even himself, still half buried in slumber, but Kyungsoo didn’t seem upset at all, just patiently fond, as he gently pushed Chanyeol to the mattress, planted a kiss on his forehead, and instructed him to go back to sleep.)
He did end up making a song, but the problem with making a song that you wanted to put in an EP was that it still had to go through not just recording but production, legal rights, final approval, and comeback scheduling. In the end when he looked at the timeline it would take too long for Kyungsoo to have heard it, and though Chanyeol didn't believe in rushing a proposal, he also didn't want to wait too long that the moment would've passed for it to have made sense, and even if he wanted to be with Kyungsoo for the rest of his life regardless, a proposal was a moment, and he believed in making moments now, otherwise it'd be never.
Besides, the direction it was heading to wasn't very proposal-esque, and he felt that the song was still lacking in so many unidentifiable parts. Or maybe the rest saying that they wanted to get involved was actually getting to him.
Kyungsoo had a few days of reprieve before the launch of his album, proper time they could have together that wasn't just a bare minimum roommate situation with their misaligned activities. Chanyeol viewed this as an opportunity. Every time he thought about it, every time he envisioned the ring, every time someone said the word proposal, even if they didn't mean it the way Chanyeol did, he was moved with feeling, a swirl of emotion he could not identify with anything except that it left him nervous, left him excited, left him hopeful. There was so much want fused to just the idea of it that it was overwhelming, that he looked at Kyungsoo on most days and had to fight down the urge to just outright blurt out, let's get married.
They were simple, sure, but certainly not boring. Chanyeol refused to give Kyungsoo a boring proposal. He deserved more than that. Chanyeol, also, personally, deserved more than that. He had a bit of an ego that way. He wanted the proposal to be something memorable to him as well.
Kyungsoo spent most of his time catching up with friends, trying a new recipe or two, and primarily sleeping in. The day he gave Chanyeol permission to do whatever he wanted and Kyungsoo would follow suit, Chanyeol had woken him up sometime past noon with a phone call, urging him to quickly get dressed and go outside to the car, which Chanyeol already pulled up in his anticipation for them to leave.
“I haven’t eaten,” Kyungsoo told him, the moment he got in the car, ten minutes later. He wore a cap and glasses and a hoodie so oversized it pooled to his thighs, meaning it was Chanyeol’s, and also that he was likely still wearing the shirt he slept in last night, too lazy to change into something appropriate. Chanyeol pulled off Kyungsoo’s cap to watch the way his hair stuck out, further emphasizing how hastily he had gotten ready.
“What are you doing,” Kyungsoo grumbled, snatching his cap back as Chanyeol ruffled his hair. “Why are you like this.”
“I’ve always been like this,” Chanyeol responded, turning the wheel to the main road. “We’ll eat when we get there. You can go back to sleep now.”
“If I do that, you’ll get so bored driving you might do something stupid,” Kyungsoo said, combing through his hair before slipping the cap back on.
“No, I won’t. I have three dogs to keep me company. Right, guys?” Chanyeol called out to the back, though only Hoochoo barked in acknowledgement. “Kyungsoo, if you want you can go play music.”
As Kyungsoo was searching for a song to play, his phone rang with a call. Sehun’s name flashed on the dashboard display. Chanyeol watched as Kyungsoo clicked the button to pick up the call. “Yah, why don’t you pick up my calls just as fast.”
“I reply to your texts early,” was all Kyungsoo responded with.
“Oh, is that Chanyeol-hyung?” Sehun asked. “Kyungsoo-hyung, I thought we were going bowling today.”
“I never agreed to anything,” said Kyungsoo. “And you know it’s my day off.”
“Which you’re spending with Chanyeol-hyung,” Sehun commented, as if he was forgetting that on top of being together, they also lived together, so of course Kyungsoo was going to spend it with Chanyeol. “Where are you guys going?”
“I don’t know, Chanyeol hasn’t said.” Kyungsoo gave him an unimpressed look. Chanyeol, still keeping his eyes on the road, only smiled sheepishly. “We haven’t even eaten yet.”
“Ah,” Sehun said in understanding. “So he’s going to do that thing.”
“What thing?”
“That thing, the pro—”
“Goodbye, Sehun,” Chanyeol interrupted, ending the call before Sehun could finish. Sensing the look Kyungsoo was giving him, Chanyeol clarified, “This is our date time, not Sehun time.”
“Sehun always thinks that any time is Sehun time,” Kyungsoo replied midly, and Chanyeol internally cheered on the fact that he was able to successfully divert Kyungsoo’s attention elsewhere from what Sehun almost said. “And you never told me this was a date.”
“Well, we can just be two bros spending a day together,” Chanyeol offered. “We don’t really go on dates, don’t we?”
“I never really thought about it,” Kyungsoo admitted. “Surely we have? That time we were on the pedal boat and raced to get the hammer? Wasn’t that our last ‘date’?”
“Kyungsoo, that was for EXO ladder. And that was more than three years ago!”
“Ah, was it,” Kyungsoo said, but when Chanyeol glanced at him through the mirror he could see Kyungsoo’s doing a poor job of hiding the way his mouth curved.
“You're so mean to me,” he complained.
“That's what you get for dragging me out of the house without feeding me,” Kyungsoo retorted. “Do you at least have coffee?”
“I'm not that heartless. It's in the thermos.”
Kyungsoo reached for the thermos in the cup holder between them and unscrewed the lid. “It's still warm,” he muttered with satisfaction, watching the faint steam arise from the container. He took a sip as Chanyeol momentarily slowed down the car to prevent spilling. “Oh, this is a good brew you made.”
That morning he grinded coffee beans Kyungsoo brought home as a souvenir from an actor friend who came from another country, and mixed it in with a French vanilla syrup Kyungsoo wanted to use for baking. The recipe was a bit overly sophisticated for Chanyeol’s personal tastes, but it was good, which was what mattered most, because he made it for Kyungsoo. “Learned from the best.”
It was not a long drive, and Chanyeol didn't actually mean for it to be a secret. But Kyungsoo did not ask, so Chanyeol didn't volunteer. It might've been worth it as a surprise anyway, seeing the way Kyungsoo’s face shifted from confusion to surprise to awe as he realized where they were when Chanyeol got them to their destination—a mutual friend’s private property, expansive enough to build an institution but transformed instead as an exclusive park that had an assortment of simple but fun activities and a few rooms people could rent as accommodations for a night.
In the middle of a weekday there were not that many people, and despite the afternoon sun, the weather was much cooler than either of them expected it to be, when Chanyeol originally braced for them to melt under the heat. Chanyeol had chosen a spot between one of the well-shaded trees and the stream of freshwater, and caved into Kyungsoo’s insistence to help out to some degree by letting him unleash the dogs to run around freely while Chanyeol set up the picnic blanket and laid out the food he prepared in the basket.
“I didn't even know we had a picnic basket,” Kyungsoo remarked upon his return, sitting beside Chanyeol. Meokmul and Hoochoo zipped past them, exploring the terrain, while Zzar chased after a bug she found on the grass. “What did you bring?”
Chanyeol had brought an array of things. Egg sandwiches and fresh strawberries and kimchi; a confusingly mixed cuisine, but the park had a couple of food options that he knew Kyungsoo would've been curious to try anyway, and fundamentally it didn't matter: Kyungsoo devoured everything and ate happily. Chanyeol packed Kyungsoo’s tablet while he was asleep in case he wanted to lounge and read, but as he ate he was more than entertained with watching Chanyeol play frisbee with the dogs as they ran around the park. Eventually, when Chanyeol could no longer keep up with them, he trudged back to Kyungsoo and lay down close to his lap. “If I was still in my 20s, I would've lasted longer.”
“If you were in your 20s, they would've gotten tired before you did,” Kyungsoo said. He reached out his hand towards Chanyeol’s hair, but rather than combing through it, he tugged on it lightly. “The food truck over there sells wagyu. I want to try it.”
“But I just lied down,” Chanyeol protested, though he was already getting back up. He ambled his way to the food truck Kyungsoo pointed to, following the smell that began wafting over the air. As he put on his order and waited for the man to prepare it, he heard the grass rustle close by. He glanced back at Zzar, who was sniffing his shoes, and crouched down to scratch her head.
“You’re dressed very pretty today,” he told her, unzipping the backpack he placed on her. He snuck a glance to Kyungsoo, who was a considerably far away and wasn't paying attention to him, before pulling out the box he had snuck inside and tucking it in his pocket. “You're a very good girl, helping your dad propose to your future second dad.”
The wagyu was good, though Chanyeol thought that Kyungsoo could’ve easily make something even better. Kyungsoo flushed under the praise, though he brushed it aside by talking about whether they could rent out the wagyu food truck for Sehun as a surprise during his MV shoot. Despite what Chanyeol initially said, it did not feel like much of a date, which was not disappointing, not when they truthfully weren't those sort of people, as much as Chanyeol sometimes wanted to imagine them to be. But he wondered if he revealed too much about his intentions by, for once, calling an outing they had together as a date, when he had never done before. He wondered if Kyungsoo was that perceptive, and he simply chose not to say anything.
“Do you think we'd ever enjoy a place like this?” Kyungsoo asked. “As a group?”
“For variety, I think,” Chanyeol considered. “For just us, probably not. We'd get bored so easily if we had to find things to do.”
“It's always fun when we’re together though. Even when we aren't doing anything. I never used to think that before,” Kyungsoo confessed. “When we lived together and right after we had enough to move out, I felt good because it was really suffocating. But for the past few years, every time I'm with the group, even if it's for work, and even when things are hard, I always have fun.”
“It's like we all agreed on before—we’re like family now, and family is always like that. When you're with them constantly it gets grating, but later on you realize just how meaningful they all are, and you never look at things the same way afterwards,” said Chanyeol. “So that's what we've become. Even if Jumnyeon-hyung said otherwise.”
“He did? What did he say?”
“That we were more like childhood friends—you don't remember that at all, do you.”
“No.”
Chanyeol shook his head. “You don't remember most things, and the few times you do remember, you pretend you don't just to pull on my leg. That's really mean, Kyungsoo.”
“It's not that mean when you think about how many times you try to mess with me. I’m just evening out the scales,” Kyungsoo pointed out, matter of fact. “And there are lots of things I do actually remember that are important.”
Chanyeol squinted at him. “Like what?”
“Like that time Sehun convinced Minseok-hyung and I to accompany him at three in the morning to the vet ER because Vivi seemed sick. And it turned out she wasn’t, Sehun was just overreacting,” Kyungsoo recounted. “We convinced him to treat us for a change.”
“Oh? Where did you go?”
“McDonalds.”
“You must’ve been so sad.”
Kyungsoo rolled his eyes. “Anyway, that was why I missed seeing you off when you had to go to the airport for your flight to Japan.”
“Do you remember that time Jumnyeon-hyung brought an espresso machine to the dorm so we’d stop spending so much on takeout coffee? And then the first time Jongin tried using it, he broke it already? Ever wonder what happened to that?”
“We had that fixed, actually,” Kyungsoo said. “And I took it with me. It’s in your apartment.”
“It is?”
“It’s in the pantry. Still works, not that I know how to use it.”
“Does it still have the penis drawings Baekhyun made?”
Kyungsoo nodded. “I think Jongdae tried to draw something over it, but now it just looks like a lot of penises stuck together.”
“We should gift that,” Chanyeol said. “Do you know what I’m thinking?”
“That we should give it on INB100’s anniversary.”
“Exactly,” Chanyeol said triumphantly, and Kyungsoo laughed. “Hey,” he started, after he fought down the urge to lean over and kiss Kyungsoo. “Why did you say that the ER trip with Sehun and Minseok-hyung was an important memory to you?”
For a few seconds Kyungsoo did not speak, stabbing his stick through the last of the wagyu in his paper bowl as he mulled over the question. “We do a lot of group activities, but they’re always just that—activities. They’re still for work. So I like it whenever we’re with the group and it’s because we choose to be, not because we have to be. Even more so now, with everything going on. We already sneak around plenty, but it’s been getting harder. We haven’t slipped up yet, but sometimes I wonder if we will.”
He was not just talking about EXO’s precarious situation with Jongdae, Baekhyun, and Minseok. He was talking about everything else. Chanyeol used to think things would get easier with age, and they had, to an extent—they were no longer under scrutiny from the public as rookies, pressured to perform well to maintain their reputation, but there was a different kind that came with being more senior, with just being older. The cameras might not have been trained on them 24/7, but they were still there. They had a new set of problems now. They could not be seen with certain people, they could not express themselves as openly as they desired. And these limitations would always be there, met with extreme consequences if they pushed past them, for as long as they agreed to continue playing this game.
“We’ll probably be doing this for the rest of our lives,” Chanyeol admitted. “Do you ever think that eventually you’ll get sick of it? And then walk away?”
“No,” Kyungsoo answered, almost immediately. “I actually never thought about it.”
“It wouldn’t be bad if you did.”
“I know,” he said, “But I just haven’t. All the good memories I’ve had, the group is at the center of them.”
“Yeah,” Chanyeol agreed. “I think I’m the same. The solo stuff is great, but nothing compares to when we do it all together. If you ask me to look back on my solo stuff, of course I love it, but I don’t remember them as vividly as I remember all the times we’d be doing things as a group.”
“It’s more than that too,” Kyungsoo said, and he paused. “If I didn’t have the group, I wouldn’t have had you.”
It was not like Kyungsoo to say something so sweet. But the conversation seemed to have loosened the restraints of the deep love Chanyeol knew Kyungsoo held for the world, for the people he cared for, allowing him to express his sincerity without cringing from it. “Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol began, and a swell of emotion crawled up his throat, colored his cheeks, stung his eyes. “That’s so corny.” Kyungsoo made a face at his comment, and Chanyeol added, because he understood where Kyungsoo was coming from, and he felt it too, “But if the group is the center, then you’re—you’re the heart.”
Kyungsoo looked at him. When he wore his glasses, his eyes seemed larger, more expressive. He said nothing, but there was something expectant in the silence between them, in the look Kyungsoo gave him, that made Chanyeol think, this is it. He had been given a segue to take out the ring and propose. His hand was already in his pocket, fiddling with the box, but he found that he could not bring himself to pull it out and say the words. The view was beautiful, and where they sat it was comfortable. They had good food before them and a reasonable degree of privacy despite being in an open space. The conversation was light and nostalgic and their dogs were in such good spirits with the new environment that Chanyeol and Kyungsoo didn’t have to worry about them being out. When he imagined a romantic but ChanyeolandKyungsoo-esque proposal, it looked something like this.
It was supposed to be perfect, and it was perfect, but for some reason, Chanyeol found that he could not do it. It was not nerves, but a niggling feeling that something was missing. The moment, though perfect, did not feel right.
Chanyeol let go of the box. He swallowed. He felt the moment pass before him, carried along with the gentle wind that blew and kissed Kyungsoo’s cheeks and lightly ruffled his hair, the cap discarded to the side. He’d been growing it recently after fans commented that he ought to try a longer style, and it fit him well, some wisps curling below his ears, bangs covering his forehead. After giving him a long glance, Kyungsoo said, “You’re the corny one here.”
A shame, Chanyeol’s stray thought bemused, that they could not kiss, as if in recompense for the proposal that wouldn’t happen. Even if Kyungsoo didn’t know, Chanyeol could feel the way the air slightly shifted, that Kyungsoo had wanted something from Chanyeol, yet he could not give it. Chanyeol’s gut coiled in discomfort. He did not like the idea that he could not give Kyungsoo something, when he wanted to give him everything.
“Tomorrow’s your album launch,” Chanyeol said. “Want me to drive you there?”
“If you wake up early,” Kyungsoo answered. “This is a nice place. Are we planning to stay here until evening?”
“Not really. I figured you’d need to rest more since tomorrow will be a long day,” he said. “We can always come back here. It’s very relaxing, isn’t it?”
“I feel like it’d be nice to recommend it to someone, but I agree that maybe bringing the whole group here is a bit ridiculous.”
“Oh! I know. A double date, maybe? Jongdae and his wife, you and I. The Kim’s and the Do’s.”
Kyungsoo seemed amused. “The Do’s? Does that mean if we get married, you'd take my last name?”
At the mention of marriage Chanyeol felt the way his body tensed up, and he tried not to let it show. But Kyungsoo had caught it, and in his eyes it was clear Chanyeol had given a certain impression to Kyungsoo about how he felt about the prospect that was grossly inaccurate to how he truly felt.
“I’m kidding,” Kyungsoo added quickly. “I don't think Do Zzar has a good ring to it. What do you think, Zzar?”
Zzar only looked at Chanyeol with an expression that couldn't have been anything other than a glare demanding that he fix this. But Chanyeol wasn't going to propose today. He had already decided on this.
“Kyungsoo,” he started instead, as he watched Kyungsoo sit up and beckon Meokmul and Hochoo to him. It was subtle, but the way he angled his body away from Chanyeol made Chanyeol feel like he was trying to create space between them. It made him ache. “I—I…”
Kyungsoo glanced at him. “You?”
“I—” He swallowed. “I just…”
Chanyeol could not actually say it, and Kyungsoo seemed to take pity on him. “You know, lately I noticed that you’ve been… not subdued, but like you’re holding something back,” he said. “Like there’s something you’re keeping from me, and I can’t tell if it’s something bad or—”
“Definitely not a bad thing,” Chanyeol immediately said. “Anything but that.”
“But you won’t tell me?”
“I’m not—” Chanyeol shook his head. “It’s not something I’m ready to say.”
“‘Ready to say’,” Kyungsoo repeated. “Meaning you’re not going to tell me.”
“I will,” Chanyeol promised. “Soon. But not—now. Is that—is that okay?” He asked uncertainly. “Would you wait for me?”
Kyungsoo looked at him, and Chanyeol let himself look back. It felt a bit like revealing his hand, but this was a compromise. He should've known that he couldn't actually keep everything from Kyungsoo and get away with it. Should’ve known that Kyungsoo would notice, and that he'd say something, and that Chanyeol could not lie to him, only stall the truth. “Okay,” he relented.
“Okay,” Chanyeol said, just as softly. He did not know what Kyungsoo presumed, what he thought he was waiting for, but when Kyungsoo inched closer to Chanyeol, letting their shoulders touch, Chanyeol at least knew that Kyungsoo trusted him.
“He’s probably not thinking about it.”
Chanyeol gave Minseok a withering look. “You can't tell me he’s not thinking about it when he literally confronted me about it.”
“I mean,” Minseok amended, drying the last of his dishes. He had invited Chanyeol over for free ramen after Chanyeol moped that his request to appear in Xiumin’s Ramyeon Store was rejected, even if they both kind of expected it. “After your conversation, which you ended in such a vague way. Because that's what you're worried about, right? That now that he knows something is going on, and since it's not bad, then that means it’s good, and everything good has already happened, so there's only one thing left for him to guess. And that's the one thing you don't want him to know yet.”
Dismayed, Chanyeol groaned. “I totally missed my chance, didn't I.”
“It's your proposal, Chanyeol. You decide that,” Minseok pointed out. “And I really wouldn't worry. Since you guys talked, he's probably not thinking about it anymore.”
Chanyeol’s eyebrows furrowed. “What makes you so sure?”
“Because he either has plenty of other things on his mind, or nothing at all,” he explained. “Don't give me that look. You know how Kyungsoo is.”
“I guess,” Chanyeol reluctantly said. His eyes wandered and stopped when he saw the shelf where Minseok placed all his wine. “I thought you broke that in.”
“What?”
Chanyeol nodded to the shelf. “Kyungsoo said you tried the new wine we got from Vietnam a few months ago. That’s why he came home so late.”
“Oh.” Minseok paused. His face was carefully impassive. “He must’ve gotten it mixed with something else. We drank sake Baekhyun got me. I finished it, so I already tossed it out.”
Baekhyun didn’t know shit about alcohol, and Chanyeol got the faint sense that something was not right. But then Minseok said, “How’s your EP coming along?” And he got distracted. It was probably not important anyway.
“It's going well,” he replied. “I might actually do a song that I want the group to feature in.”
“Is this the one Jumnyeon said you'll use to propose to Kyungsoo?”
“Don't listen to him. He never had any good ideas,” Chanyeol said. “Anyway, I don't want to use it for that because it would mean Kyungsoo would be left out. So I was thinking that maybe everyone can get like, one line each. Or about half can do backing vocals.”
“So an EXO song that isn't actually an EXO song,” Minseok said, amused. “That's a nice idea. I don't think we've ever all been in your studio at the same time.”
“It’d be crowded. Heck, the apartment would be crowded. Kyungsoo’s going to have such a headache. That's why he didn't want to throw a housewarming party.”
“You guys didn't throw a housewarming party because you didn't move into a new place. Kyungsoo just moved into yours.”
Chanyeol waved a hand. “Doesn’t matter,” he said. “So what do you think I should do, hyung?”
“With what?”
“With Kyungsoo. With the proposal.”
Unimpressed, Minseok said, “Don’t put this on me. I'm not the one who wants to marry Kyungsoo. ”
“Ugh.”
“Do whatever you want, Chanyeol, because only you know what Kyungsoo also wants,” Minseok said sagely.
“Why did that sound so loaded?” Chanyeol wondered, even though Minseok was right.
Kyungsoo may not have had any plans to propose, despite what Chanyeol initially guessed, but he did want to get married. Or he did think about it, if such a thing was actually possible for them. Chanyeol knew this for certain, even if they only had one real conversation about it.
Nearly a year ago, after tour ended, Kyungsoo dropped by Chanyeol’s apartment—an irregular occurrence, but something he liked to do whenever he wanted to surprise Chanyeol—and found him cooped up in his studio, not composing any music but watching something on his tablet. They were reruns. Kyungsoo looked over Chanyeol’s shoulder and saw his younger self reflected on the screen.
“We Got Married,” Chanyeol said in explanation, catching Kyungsoo’s nonplussed expression. “The one for Taemin and Naeun?”
“Huh.” Kyungsoo sat down on the floor beside Chanyeol. He gave a cursory glance to the empty soju bottle to the side, but he was not particularly concerned. Chanyeol was not even tipsy, but the alcohol had settled his nerves and he was comfortable like this, sitting on the floor of his studio, overcome by curiosity and sentimentality to watch an old video of them. “I remember when that was still airing. I don't remember being in it.”
“Well, we weren't in it. We were just featured,” Chanyeol said, and he deserved the way Kyungsoo elbowed his side for being a smartass about it. Chanyeol cringed and the tablet nearly slipped from his grasp, and Kyungsoo was unsympathetic to the way he flailed. “I can't believe we never got asked to be part of it.”
“You wanted to?”
“Of course I did! It's exposure. But I don't think I was charming enough to be considered by the producers,” Chanyeol mused. “You, on the other hand…”
Kyungsoo's mouth twisted at the thought. “That would've been a nightmare. The fans wouldn't take it well.”
“You wouldn't take it well.”
“Of course I wouldn't,” he said. “I never liked that show. It made marriage into some sort of gimmick.”
“Isn’t marriage a gimmick?” Chanyeol joked, but Kyungsoo didn't play along. “I didn't know you felt so strongly about marriage.”
“It's not that I feel strongly about marriage,” Kyungsoo explained. “I don't even think I’ll ever get married.”
“What? Why?”
“Because we can't.”
“Because we’re idols?”
“Because we’re together, you idiot.”
In truth, Chanyeol hadn't thought about it until Kyungsoo said it. “Saying you’re not going to get married isn't the same as not wanting to get married.”
“I guess,” Kyungsoo conceded, considering. Hesitating. “I never let myself think too deeply about it, but at the back of my mind, it was something I was expecting. And then when Woobin-hyung got hitched, it came to mind again, and for the first time, I felt that I wanted it.”
“So in that moment, some pretty girl had a real shot of taking you away from me?”
“Fuck off.” He bumped Chanyeol’s shoulder. His expression was still serious. “It was only for a moment. It didn't mean anything. Or I wasn't going to give up on us just because of something like that. It's not the idea of marriage that matters, it's the person you want to marry. The marriage is just… it's just fluff. It's just symbolic, and it's a promise: the simplest kind, maybe unoriginal, kind of unnecessary, when there are so many other ways to approach it, but—it speaks volumes. And I like that.”
He must have been thinking of this for a while, if he had this much to say about it. For a moment, Chanyeol was at a loss on what to respond with. He did not know how to say he appreciated it without Kyungsoo getting embarrassed. He did not know how to say he understood because it felt a bit pointless; it wouldn't have changed anything, and Kyungsoo must've known that it was given Chanyeol felt the same way—Chanyeol was, by all accounts, predictable, after all, especially so when it came to Kyungsoo—and it was why Kyungsoo felt brave enough to admit these things. So he did what he did best. What he always knew to do.
“So what I'm getting from this is,” Chanyeol started slowly. “You want to marry me.”
Sure enough, Kyungsoo huffed. “Were you even listening to the things I said earlier?”
“I listened to the important bits,” Chanyeol said. “Bet you wish I was a woman now.”
“No. Not when you'd be just as annoying.” Kyungsoo paused, as if realizing something, and then he shuddered. “You'd look like Yoora-noona.”
“Yah!” Chanyeol exclaimed. “Do Kyungsoo, you perv. Get my sister out of your head!”
“Who was the idiot who started talking about this?” Kyungsoo reached over and pinched Chanyeol’s ear. Chanyeol flailed, grabbing Kyungsoo’s wrist to stop him, only for Kyungsoo to jab Chanyeol’s stomach with his free hand. Swearing, Chanyeol fell on top of Kyungsoo, and they both let out pained groans.
“We’re too old for this,” Kyungsoo grunted. “Get off me, you oaf.”
“No.” He wrapped his arms around Kyungsoo, adjusting his position slightly so he didn't put all his weight on him, before burying his head on the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck. “I need to defend noona from you.”
“She likes me more than you.”
“No,” he protested. “I would argue that I like you more than she does.”
“Gross,” Kyungsoo replied, but after a second, Chanyeol felt Kyungsoo wind his arms around him too. They did not speak afterwards, feeling the exhaustion from today weigh on them, and the solace they felt in each other's presence. Later, though every so often they would talk about the topic, it had never been the same way they had spoken about it now—reflective and personal, wanting without expectation of seizing. Knowing Kyungsoo, he probably forgot about it. But Chanyeol remembered.
When they found out that Yixing could afford to fly over to Korea for a few days, and had a sliver of a free schedule—not that he explained why—Jumnyeon booked and arranged all of them a last minute vacation. Where normally at least one of them wouldn't have been able to go, this time they all budged without a single complaint. Ever since they blew up, ever since they did more solo stints, they had more chances to vacation, but it was another thing to do so together. Now, it was an even rarer feat. The restrictions they had to set themselves to let this trip successfully work were enough that it reminded Chanyeol of their debut days.
They ended up back in South Gyeongsang Province, the same city where they filmed one of the EXO Ladder seasons. The private estate was different this time from one they stayed at but owned by the same person. They were fine with the compromise that they weren't exploring anything new; it was enough to enjoy the amenities in the house and stay in. Besides, on top of a swimming pool, they had a billiards table and grand piano. There were an exact number of beds that could fit all of them, with just one room having one bed meant to fit two. Where in a variety show they had to make the bed assignments entertaining with a game, now it was just a matter of civil, sensible discussion. Chanyeol thought it was obvious what room he and Kyungsoo were going to get.
“No. You and Baekhyun-hyung are sharing that room,” Jongin said.
Chanyeol gaped at him. “What! But Kyungsoo and I are the only people here who actually want to sleep in the same bed!”
“If you take that room, you'll be on the same floor as two other bedrooms,” Jongin explained hotly. “Which means when you guys inevitably have makeup sex, almost everyone will hear it. And you guys never keep your promise to not do it! It's like you like that it annoys us. And you, I expected it, but the fact that you get Kyungsoo-hyung to go along with it…” He shook his head, dismayed. “Anyway, we’re just not taking any chances.”
Now seemed like a terrible time to mention that Jongin's worries were already too late. Chanyeol and Kyungsoo had gotten here before everyone else and fucked on the queen-sized bed, presuming it was already theirs by process of elimination. Besides, Kyungsoo was not as well-mannered as he appeared to be (though he was for the most part). But Chanyeol didn't see how correcting Jongin by ruining his image of Kyungsol changed anything. Instead, he echoed, “‘Make up sex’? Do you think we’re fighting right now?”
Jongin raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t?”
“No?” He did not know why he sounded so unsure of himself. “I mean, I don’t think we are?”
“You guys arrived in separate cars.”
“We came from different places,” Chanyeol argued, and even though that was a valid reason he felt slightly apprehensive at Jongin’s assumption. But they weren’t fighting. He hadn’t even noticed anything strange between them. Maybe ever since their talk, when Chanyeol couldn’t tell Kyungsoo the truth, things were slightly off-kilter, but it was the energy that they got when they were busy, which they were, though they also weren’t the kind of busy that merited this strange silence between them at some moments. In fact, after they desecrated the bed, while they were putting on their clothes, Kyungsoo looked like he wanted to say something, but then they heard Jumnyeon’s voice announcing his arrival, and Chanyeol chose not to press in his haste to look presentable.
Chanyeol chose not to linger on these little things. It would be gone anyway when he proposed, because he would be able to clear up the air. He just had to do it, had to figure out the opportune moment. “Fucking hell, Jongin. Don’t put things in my head. This is supposed to be a relaxing vacation!”
“We’re still not changing our minds about the bed situation.”
“Where is Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol grumbled. “You can't just make these decisions without us. Or at least without Kyungsoo. No way he'd let this slide.”
“He's in the back with Sehun,” Jongin said, waving a hand. “I’m going to the kitchen. I wonder what we’re having for dinner…”
Jongin wandered off to the dining room while Chanyeol opened the sliding doors of the living room. Distantly, he could hear Jongdae’s laugh as he spoke to his family over the phone and the sounds of puttering around the kitchen, likely Jongin looking for something to eat or drink. He had a point. It was a beautiful place, one spacious house that could fit all nine of them, but there was no actual sense of privacy. But the clamor was welcome. He felt like things were as they were back when they all lived together; only the good parts of it, and none of the bad.
When Chanyeol reached the pool, it was not just Kyungsoo and Sehun there. Baekhyun and Yixing were playing in the water while Jumnyeon and Minseok were trying to record something by the side. Kyungsoo and Sehun lingered on the edge, playing cards. For a moment Chanyeol debated on what he wanted to crash, before shedding his jacket and dashing to the pool, jumping at the center to splash over all of them at once.
He dove deep and the water that engulfed him was cool and refreshing. Eventually, when he rose back up, he was immediately greeted with a chorus of complaints from everyone, dousing them and their things in water. Some of Sehun’s cards floated on the surface and Jumnyeon was frowning at their failed recording. But it was Baekhyun who shouted, “You dick!” before tackling Chanyeol to send him back underwater. “Guys! Help me take this punk down!”
They stayed there for a good hour or two, Jongin and Jongdae eventually joining after hearing the chaos of Baekhyun and Chanyeol fight, before someone's stomach began to loudly grumble. Afterwards half of them crowded in the kitchen while others got changed to begin cooking dinner. Dinner was steak and chicken, Jumnyeon’s personal splurge, which Kyungsoo graciously prepared the marinade for while Jongin and Sehun watched. Finding beer in the fridge, Chanyeol brought them up to Jongdae and Minseok, and joined them in a game of billiards. He beat them twice before they started to complain and ask Baekhyun to replace him instead. It was fine; Chanyeol was bored anyway, and when he overlooked the window of the second floor it gave him a direct view to the pool, where Kyungsoo waded around the water, tidying up the toys they left behind, someone's shirt, a pair of discarded slippers, and the remnants of cards that flew and were initially forgotten.
When Chanyeol reached the pool area it was not just him and Kyungsoo there. He met eyes with Yixing, sitting on one of the lounge chairs, and he waved before gesturing to sit beside him. “Long time no see, hyung.”
Yixing laughed. “We literally called last week so I could record your song,” he reminded Chanyeol. “Jongin and Sehun are still cooking the steak, so Baekhyun and I went ahead and cooked the chicken.”
It was good chicken, even though Chanyeol was initially reluctant at the mention that Baekhyun cooked it. They ate from the plate Yixing brought out and caught up on things they hadn’t yet talked about. Yixing was seeing a new girl, and Chanyeol was still dating Kyungsoo. Chanyeol talked more about the EP, and Yixing confessed how he felt about the new drama he was lined up to work in. Chanyeol asked Yixing why he was here, but before Yixing could answer Kyungsoo passed by, sopping wet despite the towel draped over him, and he wrapped his arms around Chanyeol despite the latter’s complaints because his clothes were brand new and dry. Yixing looked at them in amusement and fed Kyungsoo a chicken leg when he asked.
Chanyeol realized, with Kyungsoo still pressed close to him, not to be physically affectionate, but to playfully annoy Chanyeol, that Kyungsoo was only one slight body shift away from feeling the ring in Chanyeol’s pocket, which he had been carrying lately like a good luck charm. He kept on waiting for the right moment, kept on thinking of ways to create the right moment, and he kept coming up empty. He wondered if he would carry this ring on him forever, rather than have Kyungsoo do so instead.
Maybe he should’ve done a song, cheesily convince everyone in the group to sing in a chorus in the background while he serenaded Kyungsoo into marriage. Chanyeol mulled this scenario over as they were called into dinner. Maybe he should’ve booked a cabin stay, kneeling by a fireplace in an intimate space, he thought over everyone’s squabbling for the largest cuts of the steak because Sehun had cut them unevenly. It was slightly overcooked, but the alcohol wasted down the taste easily enough. Later, after a quickfire Cham Cham Cham to determine who would wash the dishes that Chanyeol was admittedly only half-focusing on, as he trudged upstairs, happily full, pleasantly tipsy, and fortunately free of any cleaning obligations, it occurred to him maybe he should’ve rented Kyungsoo’s favorite restaurant, get a private musician to perform a piece of a classical musician they were both pretentiously into. None of these ideas had felt right when suggested to him, which was why he brushed them off, but he was at that point where he considered the possibility he would actually just never find that moment where things felt right and it all made sense to propose. Baekhyun was right about him; he was someone who would go big or go home, and he could not fathom how this could go if it was not a big moment.
“Hey,” the source of it all called out, and Chanyeol’s gaze flickered to Kyungsoo. He was by the piano stool, running his hand over the keys but not pressing on them. He was in Chanyeol’s hoodie. “You look stressed.”
“I’m okay,” Chanyeol replied, forcing a grin. Kyungsoo looked unconvinced, so he bounded over to him and nudged Kyungsoo to give him room to sit. Despite his racing thoughts, he felt the way his body relaxed when he found himself in front of a piano. “Just thinking about the EP.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Chanyeol shook his head. “Okay,” Kyungsoo said. “Do you want to play me a song instead?”
This time, the smile was a little more genuine. “You’re in a good mood, y’know,” he couldn’t help but say. “It’s not like you to ask me for things so playfully.”
Kyungsoo shrugged. “I’m having a good time,” he replied. “We don’t get moments like these where we’re all here together.”
“And yet,” Chanyeol started, “Right now it’s just the two of us.” He played a few keys to the tune of the Grover Washington Jr. song. Kyungsoo nudged him with his foot encouragingly, and Chanyeol switched to another song, something they were both more familiar with. At first Kyungsoo hummed and Chanyeol thought he was going to sing, but instead Kyungsoo cautiously pressed down on some keys that complemented the notes Chanyeol played, creating a fuller sound. Eventually the rest climbed up the stairs, having heard the music across the whole house, and they all began to sing to Kim Gunmo like they were in a noraebang.
He did not remember the last time they all had a moment like this, almost found himself surprised because a part of him thought they were past these types of enjoyments, and was pleased with the fact that they weren't. He thought of that final song of his EP he hadn't really meant to make, the one that he found strangely lacking and racked his brain to figure out why until he realized it was because he needed the others’ to be in it. He thought of Kyungsoo, who at some point had left his side when Jongdae and Baekhyun pulled him by the arms to dance and sing along with them, and now he leaned over the piano crooning the chorus to Moon of Seoul, harmonizing with the rest, and it finally came to Chanyeol, the realization that there was truly no romantic gesture he could’ve made, nothing before he could’ve done that would’ve been the perfect time to propose to create the best memory, because it was being here that made these things truly great, the members, their company, everything they’ve given him, because they gave him Kyungsoo. And he knew Kyungsoo felt the same way. It never had to be anything grand, and it was never about what would happen. It was about who they were with when it did happen.
“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol began over the music. Kyungsoo’s eyes were elsewhere, but he leaned closer to the piano, acknowledging that he heard Chanyeol. Chanyeol did not want to stop playing, but he needed to say it. “Will you marry me?”
Kyungsoo stopped singing. The rest were in their own world, still taken in by the song. “What?”
“Did you not hear me?” Chanyeol nearly yelled. “Marry me!”
He stopped playing. Immediately the rest stopped as well, caught off guard by how the song abruptly ended. “Are you fucking—”
“Shut up.” Jongin covered Sehun’s mouth with his hand.
Chanyeol scrambled to pull out the ring from his pocket when Kyungsoo said nothing. He ought to kneel, but it was enough to sit like this, having to look up at Kyungsoo’s disbelieving gaze. Eventually Kyungsoo opened his mouth to speak, but Chanyeol immediately blurted, “I know what you’re thinking, but no, this isn’t an impromptu thing. It’s not me being impulsive. I’ve been thinking about this for months, and god knows how long everyone’s had to deal with me whining about it, but yeah. Here it is. Fuck, this is a shitty speech, but it’s a pretty ring, at least? So, uh, Do Kyungsoo, what do you think? Do you want to make me—”
“If you say the happiest man alive, I’ll end you,” Kyungsoo threatened, but not meanly. And then, to Chanyeol’s shock, his hand dug through the hoodie pocket and pulled out a familiar looking box. “I was planning on doing it after we had sex earlier, but then the rest finally arrived. Now you beat me to the punch.”
“Are you kidding me?” Jongin exclaimed. “You’re telling me you guys already did it on one of the beds?”
They both ignored him. Chanyeol was busy staring at the ring. It was just a simple band, but in the inner area he could see characters engraved in it, to my best. “Kyungsoo,” he began, and he found that he could not finish.
Kyungsoo’s mouth curved, slightly nervous, mostly hopeful. “Is it my turn now?” He asked. “You know I’m even worse than you at speeches, but I’ve been thinking about doing this for a while too. I’m sorry I took so long. It was kind of hard getting everyone here to witness it, because I didn’t want to do it without them.”
Chanyeol nodded in understanding, and then paused. “Wait, ‘for a while?’ When…”
“After Woobin-hyung got married, I got the ring.”
“So I wasn’t wrong!” Chanyeol turned to the members and pointed at them accusingly. “You assholes, I wasn’t delusional at all!”
“Kyungsoo told us his plan first, okay,” Jongdae defended himself. “Actually, he told Minseok-hyung, and then Minseok-hyung convinced him to tell the rest of us while they worked out how to make this happen.” That time Kyungsoo was staying late at Minseok’s, Chanyeol suddenly remembered. No wonder Minseok was confused that Chanyeol mentioned he’d been trying out new wine. Kyungsoo had been asking for Minseok’s help to plan this. “Meanwhile, you said you were thinking of doing it too, so we got caught in between and had to act like we knew nothing. Either we discouraged one of you or hinted that the other might’ve been doing it, because otherwise, you would’ve messed up each other’s plans. Though it’s pretty pointless now.”
“If it helps,” Baekhyun raised his hand. “I didn’t know at all. I’m just as shocked as both of you.”
“If I told you, you would’ve blurted it out to Chanyeol,” Minseok told him.
“I think it’s sweet that you guys proposed to each other,” Yixing admitted, his phone held up and directed at them. “What were the odds of that?”
“Hyung, you’re recording this?”
“Well, it’s the only reason why I made the trip here,” he replied. “I wouldn’t want to miss something like this.”
Jumnyeon peered over Yixing’s shoulder. “This has been running for ten minutes already and you guys still haven’t answered each other.”
“It’s ‘cause all of you guys are here!”
“Who’s the one who decided to shout a proposal while we were all still here mid-song?”
“Okay, okay,” Kyungsoo began, successfully getting them back on track and preventing Chanyeol from lunging at Sehun. Kyungsoo took out the ring from the box, thumbed over it familiarly, like he frequently held onto it for a while the same way Chanyeol held onto the ring for Kyungsoo. And he had. Yixing had a point; what were the odds that they could do something like this? “So, Chanyeol, what do you say?”
“No fair. I asked you first.”
Kyungsoo rolled his eyes. “You’re so difficult,” he huffed. “Of course I will.”
“You will…?” Chanyeol trailed off.
At that, Kyungsoo reached over and pinched his ear. Chanyeol winced. “You’re annoying,” he told him. “But I’ll marry you anyway. If you agree to marry me back.”
Baekhyun turned to Minseok, frowning. “They do know they can’t actually get married, right.”
“It’s symbolic,” Minseok patiently explained. “Also, stop talking.”
“Yeah, stop talking, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol agreed, not taking his eyes off Kyungsoo. “Otherwise I’m not going to make you the best man at the private, not legal ceremony. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about back then, when I thought Kyungsoo was going to propose to me.”
“What!” Sehun exclaimed. “Baekhyun-hyung is the best man and I’m not?”
“It’s not going to be a normal wedding. Let’s just all be their best men,” Jumnyeon negotiated in an effort to comfort Sehun.
They were so distracting. But Chanyeol couldn’t really complain. Kyungsoo’s eyes were also only on him.
“So that’s a yes then?” He asked Chanyeol.
“Yes,” Chanyeol answered, and then added, “This was the thing, by the way. The thing I couldn’t say back then, though I wanted to.”
“I figured,” Kyungsoo admitted. Chanyeol stood up, and he gave Kyungsoo his hand to slip the ring on, before holding Kyungsoo’s hand to put the ring on him. They were not matching, like what Chanyeol envisioned in his romantic daydreams, but reality felt so much better. When he and Kyungsoo met eyes, he knew that Kyungsoo was thinking the same.
“Do not kiss,” Jongin hissed, understanding the look on both their faces. “I have never seen you guys kiss in all the years I’ve known you and I’m not ready to now.”
“We should let them kiss,” Yixing said. “So it won’t be as weird when they do it at the actual celebration. Also, I want to end the video with that.”
“We’ll do it for you, guys,” Chanyeol agreed benevolently.
“I never agreed to this,” Kyungsoo protested, and though he turned his head when Chanyeol leaned forward, he let Chanyeol grab him by the waist and pull him close enough to press a sloppy kiss to his cheek. “Gross.”
“Mhm,” Chanyeol hummed, before he whispered, just for Kyungsoo to hear, “You’re my best too.”
“Gross,” Kyungsoo said again, but his tone, like it always had been, was fond. It felt like a reminder—that Chanyeol had this. That he had Kyungsoo. And he always would.