Bittersweet Baby

Chapter 22

{Smut about halfway through}

"Baekhyun, you're shaking."

"No I'm not."

"I can feel it."

They had finally made it back to Chanyeol's former home in Yongsan-gu after tedious lengths of keeping to the shadows and slinking along as inconspicuously as possible. The house was dark and dusty after just under two weeks of being away, and though it was still home to Chanyeol, it was awfully strange stepping into only a shell of a house, the magic of its inhabitants dissipated and hiding in the shadowed corners.

Baekhyun was stiff as he sat Chanyeol down on the bed in their previous bedroom and tended to his wounded scalp. His thin fingers worked like elegant spider limbs sewing up the pain in Chanyeol's head: soft and immaculate.

But his hands were trembling and Chanyeol could see it out of the corner of his view, but also on the hairs of his head.

"I'm really okay, Baekhyun," he said, wanting to hug him for assurance.

"No you're not."

"It's just a cut."

He felt the touch of Baekhyun's hands disappear, the cool healing ointments already applied but the pleasure of the stroking hands emptying. If the wound looked as bad as it felt it would probably leave a scar.

But he didn't care about that now-he turned on the bed and watched as the smaller slowly sat down at the edge looking traumatized, though Chanyeol couldn't imagine why so. Baekhyun had killed people before. Nothing was different now...right?

Chanyeol scooted off the bed and kneeled before Baekhyun's hunched figure, eyes wide with concern.

"Hey," he said softly, patting the other's knee. "It's okay. I'm not hurt."

"You are," Baekhyun whispered back as he wrapped one arm around his midsection and rested his other elbow over it, hiding his face in his hand.

Chanyeol had had worse cuts though, much worse and Baekhyun knew that.

Silence filtered between them, worried and fearful. But after a minute there was a tiny little sniff, and then Baekhyun's face peeked out between his fingers, cheeks red, lips trembling.

Baekhyun was crying.

"I don't want you to be hurt," he bleated, still looking away. "I don't want you to die."

Chanyeol's heart rate skyrocketed and his chest clenched painfully, whirring and pounding with distress and fascination both. He sat up on his knees and pressed himself against Baekhyun's pinched together thighs, and with his hands he reached out and coaxed the smaller's wrists out away from his face.

His words choked up his throat. Baekhyun was beautiful when he cried too.

"I'm not dying," Chanyeol whispered back.

Baekhyun blew up with emotion then, voice flowering into a scream. "You could be!" His tone broke with a sob, eyes creasing with unshed tears, and he covered his mouth behind his palm. "My father wants to kill you."

"Baekhyun-"

"He tried to kill you, Chanyeol! I will not allow that! I don't care if the whole world goes to hell but not you. Not you Chanyeol." The tears spilled over his eyes, his beautiful, sad puppy eyes that Chanyeol loved so much. The taller took Baekhyun's hand in his and squeezed, willing his love to be felt, for he could not speak. Not when he was biting back his own tears at the sight of Baekhyun's crying face.

The latter quickly unraveled, hands flailing and sobs overtaking him uncontrollably.

"I ne-never ha-had a m-mother. M-My fa-father ne-never loved m-me," he cried. "I grew u-up try-trying to understand l-love. I g-grew up trying t-to figure out wh-why my m-mom never wanted to see me. Wh-Why she ne-never wanted to he-hear me si-sing in the school c-concerts or come to the school to wa-watch me learn like other m-mothers did. All the o-other kids came back to school a-after th-the holidays with all sorts of st-stories, and I-I began t-to wonder i-if i-i-it was weird that I sp-spent C-Christmas alone in my r-r-room, or th-the n-new year celebrations drawing p-p-pictures i-in th-the dark of my dad in a superhero c-c-cape shooting people. D-Do y-you have any i-i-idea what it's l-l-like s-sitting i-in a classroom and feel like you're i-in a courtroom, r-r-ready to be sentenced by the g-gavel? I-I-I spent my years i-in m-m-middle school i-imagining I-I-I was i-i-in some s-spaceship s-s-surrounded by monsters an-an-and aliens-and then the day came when I realized that I was the monster."