Summary: Baekhyun can't always be happy.
A/N: Look what I'm doing with the titles aren't I so clever ahaha fkjda;ldsa I think I'm the worst at writing Baekyeol now okay /sOBseu
Chanyeol’s first time in Baekhyun’s apartment could’ve been a better experience if he didn’t have to start it off by helping Baekhyun move a vase that Chanyeol starts to slightly regret giving a little because it really is absurdly heavy. They’re both sweating by the time they finally manage to get it into a part of the apartment where it won’t be a danger to Baekhyun or anyone else, and the first thing they both do once the vase is put down is collapse onto the floor because their legs won’t let them do anything else.
The reporter is about to apologize for giving Baekhyun flowers in a vase that is not only unnecessarily large but that also doesn’t come with a cart, except he hears ringing laughter before he gets the chance to even look over. There’re tiny droplets of sweat clinging to the sides of Baekhyun’s face as he looks over at Chanyeol, grinning. “That was fun,” Baekhyun says, tongue sticking out between his teeth.
Chanyeol finds himself grinning back (because it’s impossible to do anything else), and he forgets he was even planning to apologize because there’s not much point in that anymore anyway (who apologizes when it’s fun?).
Kyungsoo wonders if it’s possible to lead a peaceful life on the twelfth floor because he feels like it says something about the quality of life on the twelfth floor when he can’t even get past his front door without being assaulted by six feet of happiness. Chanyeol wraps his long arms around Kyungsoo, dragging the choral major out into the middle of the hallway and spinning him around.
“I’m going to be late for my shift,” Kyungsoo says and tries to detach himself (honestly he doesn’t even know why he still tries because Chanyeol’s arms are about as long as Kyungsoo’s entire body so, doing the math, detachment is obviously impossible).
But Chanyeol continues to spin around with Kyungsoo in his arms until they finally get to the point where both of them lose balance and land on the floor, in the middle of the hallway (that’s thankfully empty at the moment) with Kyungsoo flat on his face and Chanyeol on his side. “Kyungsoo-ah,” Chanyeol grins. “Guess what?”
“My head hurts now,” Kyungsoo complains, and rubs at his forehead.
“We kissed,” Chanyeol says excitedly.
Kyungsoo squints. “How was the movie?”
“He kissed me first,” Chanyeol goes on, grin so wide that Kyungsoo wonders if it’s possible for one’s face to split in half.
“So the movie was good?” Kyungsoo asks. “Good popcorn?”
“Except it didn’t really work because he was on his toes but I asked him if he was trying to reach for the tree branch or something—”
Kyungsoo massages his forehead. “Do you have any Tylenol at your place? I ran out.”
“But then he told me that he was trying to kiss me so I bent down so he could reach,” Chanyeol concludes brightly. “I have Dayquil.”
“Okay,” Kyungsoo stands up, and offers a hand to Chanyeol to pull him up to his feet as well. Chanyeol takes it—only it doesn’t happen the way it’s supposed to because Kyungsoo forgot (for the two minutes they were on the floor and their faces had been somewhat on the same level for once) about how Chanyeol is six feet of happiness instead of five-and-something-feet of sanity like everyone else. They both land on the floor again.
“He’s a good kisser,” Chanyeol says.
Kyungsoo grunts, because he landed face down again and his head hurts too much for him to turn himself around and actually reply.
In all honesty, Baekhyun went along with Chanyeol because Chanyeol seemed fun and Baekhyun likes fun and genuinely also likes Chanyeol. The journalist is the kind of person who’s continuously happy and, from what Baekhyun hears around from the others on the twelfth floor, Chanyeol is also helpful when things are serious—and good at what he does and loves what he does and smart and all-around easy to get along with.
Baekhyun also thinks of himself as someone easy-to-get-along-with and fun and mostly helpful when things are serious, but he’s still human and while he loves working with people and working at the pharmacy, there’s always the occasional bad day where he prefers to be left alone once he returns home because he hates snapping at people but that’s what he does whenever he’s irritated.
From the beginning, from the flowers, Baekhyun planned to date Chanyeol until things came to a standstill so they could break up once Chanyeol stopped liking Baekhyun and they could just stay as best friends because Baekhyun thinks that Chanyeol would make an amazing best friend—just—not—not a boyfriend because Baekhyun doesn’t think that he could ever be an optimistic enough person to be loved by someone like Chanyeol. (Chanyeol deserves someone who can be as continuously happy as him, and Baekhyun doesn’t think he could do that)
A lot of things happen on the twelfth floor, but the lobby is relatively always quiet—especially once it gets past nine at night—because in the lobby, twelfth-floor-dwellers aren’t the only ones passing through so they all have to pretend to be relatively normal there to save Kyungsoo’s sanity. There’s also the fact that Jongin, from the very first day that Byun Baekhyun moved in, has never heard the pharmacist raise his voice.
Jongin is pretty sure he’s never even ever seen Byun Baekhyun frown.
Which means it’s a pretty startling event (startling enough to send Jongin a few inches into the air and blinking so rapidly that he starts to see stars because of his addled post-lecture-exhausted mind) when he not only hears Baekhyun shout and sees him frown, but also watches as Baekhyun scowls and storms past Chanyeol after a screechy, “Leave me alone,” that resounds through the lobby.
Jongin plasters himself to the wall to let Baekhyun pass through the walkway that leads to the elevators, and watches as Baekhyun stabs the call button with the arrow pointing upward.
When Baekhyun gets back to his apartment, he sits on the floor of his living room and thinks.
It’s been a month since he’s started dating Chanyeol and, right now, Baekhyun is thinking about why Chanyeol wanted to go out with Baekhyun in the first place. It’s hard to forget, though, because Baekhyun has never before been asked out by a series of vases filled to the brim with flowers, nor has he been asked out by a complete stranger who seemed to have been taken away by Baekhyun’s looks because Baekhyun isn’t good-looking.
Being with Chanyeol is kind of like a fairytale and it’s just so fun and Baekhyun is kind of sad now to see that the fun has to end. Because Chanyeol had asked Baekhyun out in the beginning because he had thought Baekhyun was cute and that Baekhyun smiled all the time even in situations where other people normally wouldn’t, so naturally now that Chanyeol’s seen how Baekhyun can’t always be as happy as someone like Chanyeol deserves—
Then, tomorrow morning, after Baekhyun apologizes to Chanyeol for acting like an asswipe just because he had a bad day at the pharmacy, they’ll probably have to break up—and Baekhyun will just have to hope that they can at least stay friends (because Baekhyun really, really likes Chanyeol—likes him a lot more than he ever thought he would because who else has Baekhyun ever met who would ask someone out with flowers?)
He doesn’t know what time he finishes thinking, but it’s probably late because the moment Baekhyun changes and climbs into bed, he falls asleep within seconds.
Wufan blinks down. “You know there’s work tomorrow, right?” he asks as Chanyeol blinks up at him in return. “Tomorrow’s Wednesday—so there’s work tomorrow, you know that, right?”
“I know,” Chanyeol smiles, and taps the vase of flowers beside him. “I’ll be there on time—don’t worry.”
“You should get some sleep,” Wufan says. “It’s past midnight.” He gestures to the door that Chanyeol is sitting against—1213 plated clearly at the top. “He’s not going to come out until the morning anyway, so just leave the flowers and tell him what you need to tell him tomorrow.”
Chanyeol wrinkles his nose and grins. “Nah,” he says, “I’m good.” He leans his head back against the door. “What’re you doing out so late anyway? We have the same call time for tomorrow’s interview.”
Wufan shrugs, hands in his pockets. “Rooftop.”
“You go there a lot.”
“That’s where I go to think—and I think a lot,” Wufan says simply.
Chanyeol laughs quietly. “Cool,” he grins again, and then waves. “See you tomorrow.”
The corner of Wufan’s mouth tugs upward slightly as he starts walking again.
Baekhyun falls flat on his face.
“I’m sorry!” Chanyeol says, as Baekhyun tries to roll off of the journalist and the journalist tries to roll out of the way without knocking over the apparent vase of flowers standing innocently to the side next to Baekhyun’s door. Chanyeol’s arms wrap around Baekhyun’s body before the pharmacist can roll too far away.
“It’s okay,” Baekhyun says because it really is okay and he needs to tell Chanyeol that it’s okay and it’s not Chanyeol’s fault (even though Chanyeol was the one sleeping in front of Baekhyun’s door, tripping the pharmacist the minute he walked out of his apartment) that Baekhyun lashed out last night. “You didn’t have to wait out here.”
Chanyeol blinks, arms still around Baekhyun. “I brought you flowers,” he says.
Baekhyun ignores the way his heart is melting into a puddle, and tries to retain the words he has prepared despite the fact that Chanyeol’s arms are around him and it’s hard to retain anything with Chanyeol’s arms around you. “You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to,” Chanyeol says, and blinks again—smiles.
The pharmacist looks for a mop for the puddle that was once the organ that pumped blood through his body. “I can’t be happy all the time with you,” Baekhyun says because he doesn’t know how else to say it (doesn’t know how to say let’s break up because I’m not as good of a person as you are like I showed you last night). He picks idly at Chanyeol’s sleeve.
Park Chanyeol is frowning.
“If someone was happy all the time,” Chanyeol says, squinting down at Baekhyun, “I’d be really freaked out. Wouldn’t you be really freaked out?”
Baekhyun’s mouth falls open a little. “I—”
“It’s good that you blew up first,” Chanyeol grins. “I’m pretty scary when I get mad, but you’re just cute.” He laughs sheepishly. “I think—like—when I get mad at you, I’m going to have to buy you like a vase as big as that last time to make it up to you.”
Baekhyun’s mouth falls open a lot. “Wait—what—then—” he looks blankly at the vase that’s sitting a few feet away. It’s not a large vase, but it’s not a small one either—neatly medium.
Chanyeol suddenly hugs Baekhyun, tightens his arms around the pharmacist until their bodies are pressed together. “I couldn’t get you lilacs,” he says, “because they’re out of season now. But the ahjumma at the store said tulips are the flowers that make people feel better. Do you feel better?”
Kyungsoo stares down at the floor.
He thinks that, maybe, if he closes his eyes and opens them again, everything will turn out to be a dream—or a hallucination—and he won’t find himself staring down at a shirt on the floor in front of Byun Baekhyun’s apartment (along with a few sprinkled, fallen tulip petals) that looks remarkably similar to the shirt Chanyeol was wearing last night when he went to pull an all-nighter in front of Baekhyun’s door.
Chanyeol’s jeans are there too.
Kyungsoo would’ve stared at the pieces of clothing for maybe another ten minutes if it weren’t for the sudden sounds coming from the other side of 1213’s door—so in that case, Kyungsoo cuts down the ten minutes to three, and then picks up the jeans and the shirt, running as fast as he can towards the elevator to go back down to the lobby.
(He’ll fold the shirt and the jeans neatly and then punch Chanyeol in the face when he gives them back because he doubts Chanyeol will be able to feel the punch anyway through the post-sex-euphoria)