baekyong ◍ right where i want you

right where i want you

Taeyong knows it's playful but it makes his stomach turn.

They go back to watching the episode in relative quiet, but Taeyong misses Baekhyun's hand on him as soon as it leaves. He wants it back, wants to tell Baekhyun, I lied, you can touch me there, you can do anything you want to.

These sort of dramas always make Taeyong feel a bit lovesick. He imagines himself as the dim-witted protagonist of one show or another, confessing to his charming love interest with teary eyes before they live happily ever after. What Taeyong would give to have something come so easy. Baekhyun hasn't been easy. The long tour days and never ending plane trips, the rigorous work schedule and all the tiring standards that being an idol requires them to live up to- not to mention, Taeyong remembers, all the prying eyes around them at all times. Still, Baekhyun has become a safe place for him, a soft place to land. He laughs and smiles no matter what, always lightening the mood. He sees the best in people. In Taeyong.

After the episode ends, Taeyong clicks his phone off and drops it against his stomach. The room is still, quiet- the only sound is the whirring white noise of the air conditioner and the heavy rush of blood in his own ears.

"One more episode?" Baekhyun asks.

Taeyong considers his options. If he says no, this might be the end of the line. He might have to go spend the rest of his night in his own hotel room, alone in bed.

"One more," he agrees, and turns it back on.

Baekhyun is still pressed against his side and Taeyong can't help but focus on him, the phone screen reflecting in his eyes, the little wrinkles that grace his face when he smiles. Baekhyun is tan, and beautiful Taeyong thinks, without all the makeup and the photo editing and the bright lights. This is where he likes him best: unfiltered. Close.

"I like the main guy," Baekhyun says, "but I think the friend is much more handsome, don't you think, Taeyongie?"

Taeyong gulps before murmuring an affirmative.

Now, when Taeyong thinks about it, it may have been this comment that gave him the sliver of hope he needed. A push off the edge.

Baekhyun giggles and turns his head to make another comment to Taeyong and-

The urge to kiss him surges in Taeyong's gut. He doesn't think for even a moment before he leans down and presses his lips to Baekhyun's mouth, closing his eyes tight.

They part with a soft, wet click.

"Oh," Baekhyun breathes.

Taeyong's heart drops like a stone into his stomach, like being thrown down an empty elevator shaft. It's dizzying. He jerks back, itching to leave. Run, anywhere.

"Oh my god," he chokes. He flails backwards off the bed and lands hard on his back in his haste, phone forgotten on the bed.

"Hey, wait, I-"

"I am so sorry hyung," Taeyong stutters as he stumbles to his feet, "I really- oh my god I have no idea what I was thinking, I'll leave, I'll go, I'll-"

"N-no, no, Taeyongie, wait-"

"God, you must be so disgusted with me," Taeyong cries, hot, prickling tears welling up behind his eyes.

Baekhyun springs up and catches him before Taeyong darts out of the room like a scared deer. He grabs onto Taeyong's wrist and holds him there, insistent. Taeyong tries to squirm out of his grasp.

"Taeyong," Baekhyun urges, looking straight into his eyes. Taeyong can't look away.

"Taeyong," he breathes again, a sigh, and Taeyong feels like a collapsing star when Baekhyun leans in. Like an implosion: a moment of perfect contact.