Chapter Text
he doesn't mean to miss him so much. he doesn't mean to do anything really. it's not as if he'll never see minseok again considering how close his new apartment is and considering that they're deep in rehearsals for the last run of their magical circus tour.
it's a shame, baekhyun found himself thinking, that they couldn't perform as a whole group before his enlistment. it never seemed to be anyone's priority with the other promotions looming over them in the distant horizon. somewhat shamefully, he delights in the fact that it's he who gets to spend those last performances with him. in this instance, perhaps he's allowed to be selfish.
it doesn't ease the ache he feels as he sits on the floor of minseok's still-mostly-empty apartment, watching him run a swiffer over the gleaming tile floor for what seems to be the millionth time that afternoon. he's allowed to be selfish, he reminds himself as he doesn't bother fighting that little smile that settles on his lips, because it's so rare these days that he gets his hyung all to himself.
"you missed a spot, hyung."
he's been good, honestly. for as long as he's known minseok. to be accurate, he's been good for as long as he's known that he's had feelings for minseok. it tends to manifest itself in relentless teasing, pushing his elder to his limits in front of cameras, in front of the audience. everyone delights in it, their cat-dog relationship. in their trio, jongdae, content to not be the object of teasing, doesn't seem to notice.
"i wish you told me you were coming over. it's supposed to be ready by filming day," minseok bristles but not really because baekhyun can already see his expression softening as he leans the swiffer against the corner using both of his hands. he eventually settles on the edge of the rug, a perfect and small package with his knees pulled up to his chin.
purposefully, baekhuyn nudges himself forward, shoulder brushing shoulder. "you can't avoid me if it's just the two of us," he points out, which earns him a sharp look.
"i'm not avoiding you. i'm talking to you now, aren't i?"
"you're not kissing me," he points out helpfully, not quite making a retort. he keeps it playful, a laugh laced through his words even if there's no one else to see them.
minseok's dark eyes narrow even further and he instantly knows he can see through the unwieldy facade, which just makes him swallow around the worried lump in his throat. "and why should i?" which stings but it's to be expected considering minseok, considering his tidy nature, his desire to have a place for everything with everything in its place.
baekhyun flexes his fingers around nothing, itching to reach out to him but talking himself out of it. he's messy in comparison and the lack of organization drives the other up the wall whenever they have to share rooms on the road, which delights baekhyun to a certain point until he wants to win his approval all over again. for once in his life, he doesn't know what to say, his gaze dropping from minseok's face to settle on the floor, on the thick, geometric rug minseok has chosen. the black and white pattern is hilariously exo, hilariously sm offices, yet still perfectly minseok and the opposite of whatever baekhyun would choose for his own future place. it's too familiar, but as he runs his fingers through the long pile rug, he can't help but think that it's perfect for him.
without prompting, minseok reaches over, fingers nudging the collar of baekhyun's oversized hoodie away to get a glimpse of the dark purple bruise, splotchy against his pale skin. those fingers are small and cool and he can't help but shiver at the slightest touch, maybe too touch-starved for his own good. "i'm still sorry about this," he murmurs, curving his hand around the back of his neck as he might during a concert. instead of using it to get baekhyun to settle, he instead brushes his thumb back and forth against the offending mark, uncovered by makeup.
given the opening, he doesn't let him pull away, sliding his own hand over minseok's thigh to gently keep him in place next to him, before he gets any wild ideas like washing his dishes for the fiftieth time. "i like it," he declares with a cheeky grin. softly, he adds, "no one's seen it but you." considering the field day netizens had with the last gift an ex-girlfriend left on his neck, he's at least taken a page out of his hyung's book on subtlety.
but if xiumin is quiet, minseok is too subtle for his own good and baekhyun finds himself constantly desperate to fill the space between them with words, as if conversation is enough to keep them tethered.
"only a fool pulls that kind of thing before his hyung's enlistment," minseok points out in return, but he's smiling again, dainty fingers sliding from his neck to cup his cheek. "idiot."
given the second opening, baekhyun draws him in even closer with one hand on the small of his back, forehead to forehead, his fingers suddenly curled into minseok's shirt. "you like it too," he challenges him, eyeing him carefully. that expression is unreadable and he wants to shake him for it, for being like this , for being so minseok . "hyung…"
the earnest change, the lack of playfulness in his voice is what pulls minseok out of his thoughts and he leans forward to tug at the collar of his sweater once more, exposing a bit of his collarbone in the process, so he can lean forward to brush his lips against baekhyun's bruise. he hesitates when he actually feels him tremble beneath his touch, the weight of his body, but doesn't move from where he's tucked his face into the younger's neck.
for years he had denied it, the special attention he received, the public teasing that went beyond making their fans squeal with laughter. there was no question that he had been his favorite, eager to grab his attention during concerts, ending ments. he remembers the distinct giddiness in the other then it had been agreed upon that they could form the next unit with jongdae. baekhyun has always been driven, a brilliant idol in his own right, but seeing him work even harder creatively was –– moving.
baekhyun's long fingers move into his ash brown hair, drawing a soft groan out of him, a sound that's almost foreign to someone who hasn't cared for dating as often as the other members have been. he's the one they go to for advice, the one who gives pointers on subtlety, keeping everything under wraps lest they find themselves in another scandal.
it's minseok who holds baekhyun at arm's length, encouraging him to pursue the attentions of beautiful, clever girls. but it's also minseok who makes special room for baekhyun when no one else seems to be looking, the one who comforts him when things are difficult. fans don't speak often of their friendship save for those who read into their public interactions, the way they laugh and tease each other relentlessly. they might be onto something but he won't be giving anyone the satisfaction of being right.
the fresh bruise is kissed, licked gently as if to soothe but really to make baekhyun shiver under him, more sensitive than he lets on. it's minseok who initiates but it's baekhyun who hastily, impatiently tugs on his hair to draw forth another groan, to pull him back up so their lips can crash messily, full of everything neither of them are ready to express. it's heated, desperate, moans bouncing off the empty apartment walls. he sucks baekhyun's pouty bottom lip into his mouth, watching as it bounces back up on release with a satisfying pop. for all their training, they lack finesse, minseok slotting his leg between baekhyun, baekhyun trying to sneak his hands under the other's shirt. knocked off balance by their different goals, they tumble onto their sides, bursting out laughing against each other's mouths.
baekhyun's laugh is loud and hearty underneath minseok's breathier giggles. the kid is sneaky, given an inch and taking a mile as his hands explore the definition of muscle beneath his shirt, drawing it further up his torso. his muscles clench beneath his touch and he finds himself drawing the other's leg over his hip. the heat lingers between them, hidden in their locked gazes even as he sweeps his fingers over his cheek.
"hyung, let me stay over," he insists between kisses, little pecks between words. "please. please, hyung –"
again, he grabs the back of his neck, gentle as always, settling the other's frantic energy for a moment. "fine. but no promises."