Honesty Hour - Baekhyun
A little Christmas present after being gone for a while. Based off of my actual recital a few days ago, minus the Baekhyun part. Happy holidays!~
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(He normally talks a lot, but not like this.)
The air is impossibly cold. You feel it nip at your legs and travel up your skirt, crawling up to your cheeks and stinging your skin like hundreds of tiny little needles. The wind picks up into a soft gust, enough to make you gasp slightly and exhale a visible white puff of breath that stutters into a choked sob.
But you can’t cry.
You’re ashamed and thoroughly humiliated, and all you want to do is collapse where you are and weep into your frozen hands. But your eyes are dry and the tears seem to hide from you as you continue to walk down the street and weave through the crowd of people rushing in and out of stores for last minute Christmas shopping.
Everything is bright and festive, lights curled around the tree trunks by the road. There’s music blaring from speakers at every block, singing about the holidays and jolly seasons, but the only thing you can hear is the sharp clicking of your heels on the sidewalk.
The memory of how you’d walked away in the auditorium flashes in your mind again. The sound of your heels in the absolute silence that you’d left the crowd in. The burning sensation in your chest and the dryness of your throat as you rushed down the stage stairs.
You’ve turned the corner and into an empty street when you hear your name being called shatter your thoughts.
“_______!”
You turn to the road beside you, finding a car parked in the middle of it, the window pulled down so you can see the familiar face in the driver’s seat.
“Baekhyun?” your voice cracks and you clear your throat immediately after.
“It’s cold.” he says, his brows creasing as his gaze sweeps over your satin blouse, skirt and flimsy petticoat. “Get in.”
“I- I can’t.” you stutter, knowing what kind of conversation would take place if you did climb in his car. He was at the recital after all. “I mean, no thanks. I’ll just walk and-“
“Freeze to death? _______, your house is fifteen minutes away by car, almost thirty by foot. And you’re wearing heels.”
He’s clearly won already.
Sighing, you step down the curb and into the street, sliding into the passenger’s seat and being greeted by the warmth of the heater. You nearly melt back in the seat from the warm temperature. You don’t know exactly how long you’d been outside, but it’s been long enough for you to start shivering.
You don’t notice that you’re shaking until Baekhyun reaches over to take your hand, sliding his long and slim fingers in between yours to lock them together.
You stare down at your hands as he drives down to the next block and parks next to a closed antique shop, farther from the public but not the Chrismas lights.
They’re dancing in his eyes when you look up at him, and before you can ask what he’s up to, he’s already one step ahead with an answer.
“Talk to me. It’s okay to cry in front of me, you know.”
There’s a certain weight to his words that pushes your tears, which has been sleeping dormant somewhere inside of you, well up in your eyes and suddenly burst free.
“I don’t know what came over me.” you’re back to staring at your lap and Baekhyun’s hand tightens on yours when you hiccup. “I felt more nervous than I’ve ever felt and my heart was pounding so fast I couldn’t think. And I shouldn’t have been nervous. I know all the pieces so well I could play them in my sleep.”
The memory slams back into you full force and you suck in a breath like you’d been punched straight in the gut. Baekhyun is silent next to you, an unusual thing for him because he’s usually always talking. And now you’re the one blabbering words and he’s the one sitting back and listening.
“I was the most experienced piano player back there.” you say, voice quivering. “Ten years on top of the mere two or three that everyone else has been playing for. But I’m the one who fucked up the most. I’m the one who had to start over three times before I could get a grip and continue. Months of practice for tonight and I completely screwed it over.”
Drops of tears fall onto your skirt and seep into the fabric. You’re sobbing and Baekhyun is still quiet. When he speaks, it almost comes out as a whisper.
“You still finished playing.” you shake your head and your fingers dig into his knuckles, but he keeps going. “You can’t control nerves. No amount of practice could ever fix stage fright. But you did it, _______. You pushed on even though you were dying inside. You performed, you withheld your composure, you didn’t burst into tears and you were strong. And that’s good enough.”
“Not good enough for me.” you wipe at your tears with your free hand. “I mess up at every recital, Baekhyun. Maybe you don’t understand it, because you’re so used to being on stage. I completely lost it tonight. It’s over. And next year, I’ll probably do the same. I’ll mess up and keep messing up and never get anywhere.”
“Hey.” he says sharply. “Don’t say that. It isn’t the end of the world. Just because you mess up doesn’t mean-“
“How could you tell me that when you’ve been so perfect for your whole entire life?” you let go of his hand, anger suddenly burning in your chest.
Baekhyun’s always been the more successful performer. The one who became a popular idol. He started off taking piano lessons with you at the music center, until he quit and decided he was more interested in singing. He dominated every stage while you strayed behind because you were afraid of playing in front of people.
He knows how to charm the crowd. Baekhyun is funny, bright, and obnoxiously talkative. He knows the right words to say, which cards to play at any given situation. He was literally born to shine.
And yet……
You watch the hurt flicker in his eyes and spread across his features.
“I think you’ve said that to the wrong person.” he says quietly.
He’s kept contact after everything. He stayed as your friend, someone who supported you through every recital without fail. Even though you only seem to bring him down. Even though you can’t compete with his professionalism. He’s honest and kind, sometimes unbearably annoying, but he’s your friend and he has been for as long as you can remember.
Even through the glitz and glamour.
“I’m not perfect, ________.” he looks sad now and his voice sounds like it holds years of painful experiences. “I didn’t train and debut with flying colors. I had competition with the other trainees; I wasn’t promised a clear position in the industry. I spent days practicing, going twelve, thirteen, fourteen hours straight with break. And sometimes it still wasn’t enough. I wasn’t up to par with the others who had been there longer, and I thought of giving up so many times. I even thought that I wasn’t good enough to make it.”
Baekhyun giving up.
You can’t imagine him ever giving up on anything. You’ve never seen him be anything less than determined and stubborn.
“The first time I ever performed, I got laughed at.” he continues. “My face was apparently a joke to my friends. Because I was never seen as a serious guy. My friends saw me as the clown among all of us. Someone with no future, just useless humor. I wanted to prove that I could be successful. That’s half of what kept me going.”
“And the other half?”
“You.”
You hadn’t expected that answer.
“What?”
“I wanted to show you what I could do.” he says it so honestly, like it’s the most natural thing. “If you see me on screen, I thought you’d realize there’s nothing to be afraid of. But I’m not really helping, am I? Your fear of performing isn’t about confidence. It’s something you can’t control. And all I’ve done is make it worse for you.”
This conversation has completely changed course. You aren’t worried about the recital anymore. If anything, this feeling is worse.
The feeling of guilt.
“I didn’t mean it that way, Baek.” you grasp for words, wishing you have the same ability as him to deliver such perfect lines. “You’ve always been there for me, are you kidding? If anything, I’m the one who’s lacking.”
“I don’t think your inability to play piano in front of people counts as lacking something.”
“Thanks for reminding me of my failure.”
“Just listen to me for a second.”
You arch an eyebrow at him and he sighs, rubbing his forehead in frustration. You don’t recall ever eliciting such a reaction from him before.
“At least to me, you aren’t lacking anything.” your gazes meet and you shiver even in the intense heat as he brushes his fingers over your cheeks to wipe the tears. “Maybe it isn’t so for you, but for me I’m satisfied with being the only one who you don’t feel nervous around.”
Lies.
You don’t know why, but the way he’s looking at you makes you want to run away and hide from him. Because his look is so intense it’s practically melting your soul.
You’re nervous. But why?
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You can always play perfectly in front of me.” he smiles. “And that makes me feel really special.”
“Okay, now you’re just downright being weird.” maybe it’s just a trick of your eyes, but he’s slowly leaning closer to you and it’s getting harder to breathe with each passing minute.
“It’s about to get weirder.”
It takes two seconds for him to grab your wrist and pull you towards him, but it takes you ten to catch up with the feeling of his lips pressing against your own.
There’s an urge to push him away. The shock is too powerful and you want to take some time to think about this. To question why he’s doing this. Why so suddenly. Why now. But an even stronger urge compels you to clutch onto the cuff of his dress shirt and stay still.
“This is my way of comforting you.” Baekhyun says against your lips when he pulls back a little. “I’m sorry if I failed.”
“You didn’t.” You’ve forgotten about the recital. Instead, you’re thinking about how natural this situation seems and how you have an inkling that you’ve been unknowingly waiting for it. “But you’re going to if you stop kissing me.”
“I-“
You pull him forward by the tie, not letting him finish, meeting his mouth for the second time tonight. He goes absolutely still in surprise for a moment.
But then his hands find your cheek and your waist and he draws you closer as best he can with the gearshift in the middle of you two. He tastes like peppermint and candy canes, and when you breathe in to catch your breath, he steals it with his lips moving over to catch a stray tear on your cheek.
Your fingers move from his tie to his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut when he presses a soft kiss to your neck. Your heart leaps to your throat and you gasp as he lifts you up by the waist and into his lap, your skirt pooling at your thighs.
“Are you warm now?” Baekhyun asks teasingly.
“Not warm enough.” you don’t miss a beat, tangling your fingers in his hair.
His mouth is back on yours and you sigh at the familiarity. Kissing him is comfortable. So comfortable that it makes you feel like never wanting to stop.
Baekhyun reclines his seat back until your hair falls over you two like a curtain. His hands drag down to your legs, and you don’t stop him even when he reaches the hem of your skirt. You’re breathing heavily now and his fingers hesitantly slip under your dress.
You tug at his bottom lip to urge him.
Touching has never been awkward with Baekhyun.
You’re used to holding hands and hugging, even sleeping in the same bed. You’ve known each other for so long, you’re used to absentminded touches and innocent cuddling.
But not like this.
Now so intimately and charged with something other than platonic feelings.
Baekhyun’s hand is warm on your thigh and you sigh into his mouth. You can feel his heartbeat through your chests pressed together, his hips straddled by your legs, and you don’t know how far you would have gone if he doesn’t break the kiss to look back at you with hazy eyes.
His lips are smeared over with your red lipstick, his tie askew. Parts of his hair are sticking up like he’s been electrified.
You’re too breathless to laugh.
“Why?” you ask instead, voice hoarse and heart still pounding from adrenaline.
His hand slips down from your skirt.
“It’s snowing.”
You turn your head in bewilderment, squinting through the fogged window to see the tiny flakes of snow falling soundlessly from the sky in flurries.
“You interrupted us just to tell me that it’s snowing?” you say, a little irritated.
“Well, that and……”
Baekhyun sits up and smiles, anchoring you by the hips. You know that look on his face. It’s the look he gets whenever he’s about to say something that’s about to absolutely piss you off.
He glances over your shoulder at the gauge.
“I’m also running out of gas.”
“Byun Baekhyun!”
His grin widens.
“Merry Christmas, ________.”