30. Place
Phoenix Rising
Chapter 30: Place
The cab ride downtown was long - far longer than usual as Chanyeol's mind whirred at warp speed. He was still at the club, still on the stage, still blinded by lights watching Kai collapse. It had been close - too close - to Kai's stage antics. What if he hadn't noticed? What if they'd all played on and watched him die before their eyes? Chanyeol shuddered, his gut twisting sharply. Every turn along city streets jarred his nerves, every streetlight scissoring through the cab windows was too bright. Even his heartbeat felt laborious and loud. Quiet. He longed for quiet.
Chanyeol halfheartedly entertained the notion Kai's condition was contagious - his own nerves were a mangled mess, frayed and frazzled, and his mind swerved madly like a drunk behind the wheel. Asynchronous odors of car seats, cigarette smoke and jjigae assailed his senses and turned his stomach. When he finally escaped the confines of the small car, it was not a minute too soon. Dragging a ragged breath of night air into his lungs, he slammed the door shut and crossed the street to Baekhyun's building.
Striding through the revolving doors, his step faltered briefly in the foyer, but he set one foot down after another and approached the guard at the desk. Glass and marble and metal winked under track lights.
"Byun Baekhyun," he said gruffly, sliding his gaze sideways to take stock of the luxurious lobby. He caught sight of his reflection in a soaring strip of mirror, a lean, long gash of black against the warm whites and golds of the pristine foyer.
"Your name, sir?"
"Phoenix."
Repeating the name dutifully over the phone, the guard hung up. "Go on up, Mr. Phoenix." The guard nodded and gestured with an open palm to the bank of elevators flanking the lobby.
With a grunt of acknowledgment, Chanyeol pushed away and strode toward the elevators. Stepping into a waiting car, he pushed his fingertips into the pockets of his tight-fitting skinny jeans, replete with jagged tears at the knees and thighs. Like the eyes of a fly, countless reflections stared at him from the elevator walls. He closed his eyes.
Chanyeol had barely lifted the knocker on Baekhyun's door when it cracked open.
"Hey." Baekhyun appeared, quickly opening the door the rest of the way to let Chanyeol in. Closing it behind him, he looked the guitarist up and down and stepped away from the door and into Chanyeol's space. Still clad in his buttondown from work - though ed partway and untucked from his slacks - with his hair combed up and to one side, the contrast between them was sharp. Though Baekhyun had seen Chanyeol in his stage getup on many an occasion, the difference between them was marked tonight, and Baekhyun felt challenged to break through the invisible miasma between them.
"Hey," he said again, more softly, this time as he stepped closer and slid his arms around Chanyeol's waist. Tucking his head beneath the taller man's chin, he inhaled the familiar scent of leather and sweet musk and felt the bite of zipper teeth against his cheek. The guitarist's arms rose, wrapping around Baekhyun's shoulders, stiffly at first, then tightly as he pressed his face to Baekhyun's hair. They stood in the middle of the living room for the span of seconds, minutes, maybe more.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Baekhyun asked carefully, at length. "Or a drink?" His brow furrowed. He had relied heavily upon Chanyeol for comfort throughout their relationship, but he found he knew very little about how to return the favor.
Chanyeol sighed heavily and gave Baekhyun a squeeze before releasing him. His palms lingered on the shorter man's shoulder blades. "Not really," he replied, his voice coarse as if long unused.
Baekhyun nodded, biting the inside of his lip. "I'm really not good at..." he trailed off, waving his hands a bit, as if it would explain away the awkwardness and uncertainty he felt.
Chanyeol cracked a wry smile - if it could be called such - his lips tugging upwards to one side. "I seem to recall saying that myself, not long ago." Pushing one hand into a pocket, the other hung at his side.
"You're better than you think."
"Mm. So are you. How've you been? Since...?" Chanyeol asked, tipping his chin towards Baekhyun's state of dress, which was quite the opposite of what he'd been wearing the last time they'd seen one another. Nary a trace of that so-called 'hot mess' was in sight.
Baekhyun smiled faintly, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "You know. I'm alive."
Heaving a sigh, Chanyeol closed the gap between them and slung an arm around Baekhyun's shoulders, dropping his chin to the top of his head once more. "You look good."
"You said that last time," Baekhyun muttered against his chest. "When I looked like ."
"No, last time I said you looked hot."
"You like me in leather?" Baekhyun tilted his head back to look up at Chanyeol, wearing an impish smile.
"Is the sky blue?" Chanyeol arched a brow. "Who wouldn't?"
Baekhyun chuckled. "I can think of a few..."
"Forget I asked," Chanyeol rolled his eyes, then closed them, pressing his face to Baekhyun's hair.
Baekhyun was content, ensconced in strong arms. A beat of silence passed, familiar and warm, before he spoke again. "It's late...have you eaten?"
Chanyeol mumbled something unintelligible. "Not since before the show."
"Do you want to get something?" Baekhyun asked, warring between concern for the guitarist's wellbeing and guilt for asking him so many questions. "We could go--" he began, then stopped short, realizing the implications of being seen at this hour in Sinsa with the guitarist. "--Could order something, there's tons of delivery menus in the kitchen, as you know I can't cook." He smiled wryly.
"Thanks... but I really don't have an appetite." Chanyeol declined gently - Baekhyun was trying his best to help. He was quiet for a moment. "You got home late..."
"Yeah, lots going on at the office. New group debuting soon."
"Nice. One of yours?" Chanyeol inquired, relieved to discuss something other than his mess of an evening.
Baekhyun shook his head. "They've given the group to me but it's not the same." He heaved a small sigh. "Let's go to bed?"
Chanyeol found nothing objectionable in this suggestion and, after shedding his jacket and boots, followed Baekhyun into the bedroom. Curling his toes into the soft rug by the bed, he laid both hands on B
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