Archive of Our Own

Baekhyun is quiet the whole drive back to Chanyeol’s place. His hands are resting on his lap, fingers twitching like they’re holding back words that are too bitter to speak. Chanyeol doesn’t say anything either, just glances at him from time to time, eyes heavy with the kind of guilt that comes from loving someone too much in a world that won’t let you.

“Sorry,” Chanyeol says softly once they’re parked in the condo’s basement. “I should’ve insisted we didn’t go.” Baekhyun exhales, slow and shaky. “Hindi mo naman kasalanan, Yeol.”

“Pero I knew what would happen, Baek. I’ve been hearing it for years now. Every dinner, every gathering, every subtle jab.” He looks at Baekhyun, whose jaw is clenched. “Your mom literally said I was just a ‘distraction’ from your ‘real path.’ Like I don’t work hard. Like I haven’t built anything from scratch.”

“She doesn’t see that. They don’t want to.”

And that’s the truth that cuts deeper than anything said at that long table filled with silverware and cold intentions.

Chanyeol leans back against the headrest. “I don’t get it, Baek. We both come from influential families. What is it about me that they hate so much?”

Baekhyun finally looks at him, eyes dark and tired. “It’s not hate, Yeol. It’s control. They think they know who I should end up with. Someone who fits their version of success, someone they can approve of.”

“So I don’t tick the right boxes,” Chanyeol says bitterly. “You tick mine,” Baekhyun whispers.

It’s a week later, and they’re in Baekhyun’s Makati apartment. Rain falling outside. Baekhyun is barefoot in the kitchen, making hot chocolate. Chanyeol sits on the bar stool, watching the love of his life stir in silence.

“Tingin mo ba… will we ever be enough for them?” Baekhyun finally asks, voice barely audible over the hum of the storm.

Chanyeol answers without thinking. “We’re already enough. Siguro hindi para sa kanila. But for us? I’d fight the world for what we have.”

Baekhyun looks up, tears clinging to his lashes. “Nakakapagod, Yeol. I hate that every time I see them, I have to shrink just to fit their expectations. I’m not just their son anymore. I’m your partner. And I’m proud of that.”

Chanyeol stands, walks over, wraps his arms around him from behind. “Then let’s grow our own world, Baek. I’m not asking you to cut ties, but we can build a life where we’re not asking for their permission.”

Baekhyun leans back into him. “Kahit hindi nila tayo maintindihan?”

“Kahit anong mangyari. You and me, okay? Let’s grow as we go.”

A month later, Baekhyun finally tells his father. “You can’t keep pretending he doesn’t exist, Dad.” His father sighs, folding his newspaper. “We only want what’s best for you.”

“Then trust me,” Baekhyun says firmly. “Because I’m not stupid in love. I know what I’m doing. Chanyeol isn’t perfect, but he’s real. He supports me. He stays when things get hard. That’s more than anything money or pedigree can buy.”

His father looks at him for a long while. “You’re really not letting this go?”

“Hindi ko kayang bitawan ang taong nagpaparamdam sa’kin na sapat ako. Hindi para sa mundo, kundi para sa sarili ko.”

They’re lying in bed one Sunday morning, sunlight peeking through the curtains as Chanyeol traces Baekhyun’s wrist with lazy fingers.

“Anong iniisip mo?” he asks. Baekhyun turns to him, eyes soft. “Na kahit ang gulo ng mundo… I found peace with you.”

Chanyeol kisses his forehead. “We’ll keep fighting for this, Baek. For us. Let them call us kahit anong gusto nila, at least we’re reckless and stupid in love.”

Baekhyun laughs. “And growing in love.” Chanyeol nods. “Exactly how it’s supposed to be.”

Baekhyun is on-site in Tagaytay, overseeing a sustainable residential project. He’s got his hands full, literally, with blueprints and mud on his boots, when his phone rings.

Dad.

He stares at the name for a moment, dread settling low in his gut.

He answers. “Hello, Pa?” A pause. Then, “Come home. Tonight. We need to talk.”

The dining room is the same. Immaculate, expensive, cold. But something’s different.

Baekhyun walks in expecting fire, but what he gets is… ice melting, ever so slightly. His mom gives him a polite nod. His dad gestures to the seat across him.

“No lectures?” Baekhyun says cautiously, sitting.

His father sighs. “I’ve been watching you.”

“Okay…”

“Hindi ko man maintindihan lahat ng pinili mong landas, but I see that you’re not lost. And you’re not… destroyed by him.”

Baekhyun swallows hard. “Why would I be?”

“Because love like that, intense love like that, it changes people. It makes them reckless. Foolish.”

“Or braver,” Baekhyun says, voice steady. “Chanyeol didn’t destroy me. He sees me, Pa.”

Silence falls. Then his mother finally speaks. “We’re not saying we like it. But if this is what makes you happy, then… maybe we’re the ones who need to adjust.”

It’s not an apology. It’s not approval.

But it’s a crack in the wall. And Baekhyun will take it.

Baekhyun shows up at Chanyeol’s place unannounced, cheeks pink from the wind, his eyes wide with something close to disbelief. “I think… they’re trying.” 

Chanyeol, in nothing but sweats and an oversized shirt, blinks at him. “Trying what?”

“To understand.” Baekhyun drops his bag, walks into Chanyeol’s arms like he always does when the world is too loud. “Hindi na sila nanunumbat and throwing not to subtle jabs anymore. They’re… listening. Slowly. Grudgingly. But it’s a start.”

Chanyeol exhales, forehead resting on Baekhyun’s shoulder. “God. Baek. I didn’t think this day would come.”

“Me neither.”

They stand in the middle of the kitchen, arms around each other like a lighthouse and an anchor, steady in a storm.

“Do you think they’ll ever like me?” Chanyeol asks softly.

“I don’t care if they like you,” Baekhyun says, lips brushing against Chanyeol’s cheek. “They just have to accept that I love you.”

A few weeks later, Baekhyun brings Chanyeol to a Byun family brunch. It’s awkward. Painfully so. But it’s quiet, not hostile.

His mother compliments Chanyeol’s recent expansion in logistics. His father mentions seeing Chanyeol in a business magazine. Baekhyun watches Chanyeol handle it with grace. Smiling, answering politely, but always checking on Baekhyun with his eyes. And Baekhyun just gives a small nod each time, like saying, you’re doing great. I’m right here.

Afterwards, in the car, Chanyeol lets out a long breath. “That was…”

“A lot?” Baekhyun laughs.

“As if nasa boardroom ako with important investors and a million-dollar deal is at stake,” Chanyeol grins. “But yeah. Less terrifying than usual.”

Baekhyun reaches over to take his hand. “Told you. We’re growing and nothing— not even my own family could stop us.”

Chanyeol brings their entwined fingers to his lips. “And I’m still madly in love with you.”

Just because the walls cracked doesn’t mean they all fell.

They attend a Byun cousin’s engagement party, big, glitzy, high-society. Chanyeol’s presence turns heads. Some smile. Some whisper.

And some… don’t hide their disdain. “Baek, I didn’t know you were still bringing him around,” says his Aunt Irene, voice sweet as poison.

Baekhyun raises an eyebrow. “Of course I am.”

She leans closer, pretending to be discreet. “You were always such a smart boy. But falling for someone outside the Byun standard… that’s not very wise, is it?” Chanyeol hears it. Pretends not to. He’s used to being underestimated. But seeing Baekhyun’s hands clench makes him want to walk out and spare him the tension.

Later, when they’re seated for dinner, a different cousin casually says, “You’re lucky, Chanyeol. Baekhyun could’ve married anyone.” 

Chanyeol just smiles. “I know. That’s why I never take him for granted.”

The night air is cool when they return to Chanyeol’s place. Baekhyun heads straight for the rooftop garden. Chanyeol’s quiet project during the pandemic, now their favorite spot.

They sit on the bench, shoes off, city lights flickering below them.

“I hate that they still look at you like that. I don’t like it when they talk as if mas kilala ka pa nila kesa sa pagkakakilala ko sa’yo,” Baekhyun says. Chanyeol shrugs. “Sanay na ako. This time, I just… I wanted to prove to them that I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t have to prove anything, love. Not to them. Not to anyone.” Chanyeol turns to him, brushing the windblown hair off his forehead. “I know. But I want to. For you. Kasi alam kong kahit strong ka, it still hurts when they treat you like you made the wrong choice. That you could’ve been with some other guy who your tita’s think na mas better and mas capable to fit in your family kesa sa akin.”

Baekhyun nods slowly. “Ang hirap kasi. I want to be a good son. But I also want to be yours. Minsan parang hindi ko alam kung pwede bang parehong mangyari.”

“You are,” Chanyeol whispers. “You’re already both. Babe, you’ve done more balancing than anyone I know. It’s okay if not everyone claps. Our relationship isn’t for their entertainment anyway.”

Baekhyun leans into him, resting his head on Chanyeol’s shoulder. “Promise me we’ll never let them get between us.” Chanyeol kisses the top of his head. “I swear. We just need each other.”

Baekhyun chuckles softly. “Cheesy.”

“True.”

“Still cheesy.”

Chanyeol grins. “Then marry me someday and you’ll get a lifetime of cheese.”

Baekhyun doesn’t answer right away. He just smiles, closes his eyes, and pulls Chanyeol’s hand to his chest.

“Let’s grow more,” he says softly. “Then we’ll talk about forever.”

It’s a Friday evening at a formal Byun charity event. One that Baekhyun almost skipped but attended out of guilt, and of course, a little push from Chanyeol. Chanyeol came late from a business trip and arrived just in time for dinner, slightly underdressed in a navy suit without a tie.

People noticed. The whispers started. 

His mother noticed. And that was enough to set off the fire.

“You could’ve at least told your partner to dress decent,” she snaps quietly beside the centerpiece. “This isn’t one of those casual social nights he’s used to.”

Chanyeol stiffens, pretending to focus on his water glass.

“Ma, please—” Baekhyun starts, but she cuts him off. “You’re an architect, Baek. A Byun. You know how people look at you. At us. Is this the image you’re really proud of? Ganito ba dapat tayo makita ng ibang tao?”

Baekhyun stands. Right there in the middle of dinner. “You don’t get to talk about pride when all you’ve done is shame the one person who’s never left my side.”

There’s a hush. Eyes turn. The orchestra falters.

Baekhyun’s father raises his brow. “Sit down, Baekhyun.”

“No,” he says, voice shaking. “You don’t get to ask me to keep choosing you over someone who’s never made me feel less. Lahat ginawa ko to please you, sinusunod ko lahat. But when it’s time to choose for myself, sasalihan niyo pa rin? Kahit ito na lang sana ang ibigay niyo sa’kin.” He grabs Chanyeol’s hand and walks out of the ballroom.

Not looking back.

Not this time.

Two days later, they’re in a secluded resort in Zambales, thanks to Sehun, who booked it under a fake name to get the press off their backs.

The sea is calm. The sun is gold. Their friends show up that afternoon, carrying grilled liempo, lechon manok, and a cooler full of beer.

“Emergency barkada therapy!” Minseok announces, already opening bottles.

Jongdae throws an arm around Baekhyun. “Don’t worry. If your mom ever tries anything again, kakantahan ko siya ng My Way sa kanyang front yard at 7AM.”

“Parang parusa na ata ‘yan kahit sa amin pa lang,” Kyungsoo mutters, making the group laugh.

Junmyeon quietly hands Chanyeol a fresh towel. “Proud of you, man. That took guts. You okay?” Chanyeol exhales, glancing at Baekhyun who’s laughing again, sun on his face. “We’re getting there.”

Yixing brings out a guitar. Jongin and Sehun are already playing tag in the shallow water like oversized kids.

And for the first time in weeks, there’s no weight. No judging looks from the family. Just them.

It’s almost midnight when everyone’s asleep or passed out in hammocks. Chanyeol and Baekhyun are lying on a huge outdoor mat by the shore, wrapped in a blanket, listening to the waves.

“Do you regret it?” Baekhyun whispers. “Walking out with me?” Chanyeol shakes his head. “No. Not even for a second.”

Baekhyun turns to him. “What if they never come around?”

“Then we’ll build our own table. Fill it with people who clap when we win.”

Silence.

Baekhyun traces shapes on Chanyeol’s chest. “Can we stay like this forever?” Chanyeol kisses his forehead. “We’ll grow through it, Baek. Even if it hurts. Especially because it hurts.”

“Stupid in love,” Baekhyun smiles faintly. “And still choosing each other anyway,” Chanyeol whispers. “Every damn time.”

It’s moving day.

Not the dramatic kind. No boxes piled on the curb, no tears, no chaos. Just Chanyeol quietly carrying Baekhyun’s favorite plants into his high-rise unit in BGC, and Baekhyun reorganizing Chanyeol’s spice rack because “Babe, why is paprika beside cinnamon?? That’s a war crime.”

Junmyeon, Sehun, and Jongdae are on the couch, giving unnecessary commentary while eating pancit.

“Wow,” Sehun teases. “So ganito pala ang tawag ng mga bagets na domestic life. Love and labelling jars.”

“Power couple na may paminsang silent treatment,” Jongdae adds, grinning.

Chanyeol tosses a pillow at him. “Walang silent treatment. We just… communicate quietly.”

“Kuno,” Kyungsoo mutters, appearing with a tray of kakanin.

Minseok raises a toast with his mug of coffee. “To the beginning of cohabitation. May you survive each other’s toothbrush placements.”

Yixing smiles warmly at Baekhyun. “You look lighter.”

Baekhyun shrugs. “I feel… home.”

Later that night, after the noise dies down, Chanyeol finds Baekhyun in the kitchen, wearing one of his old shirts, barefoot, making hot chocolate like it’s muscle memory.

He leans on the counter and watches.

“You ever think about it?” Chanyeol asks softly. Baekhyun glances up. “About what?”

“This. Us. Weddings. Rings. The whole thing.” Baekhyun stills. His eyes flicker to Chanyeol, then back to the mug he’s stirring. “Yeah. Sometimes.”

Silence. Gentle, not heavy.

“I used to think marriage was just… political,” Baekhyun says. “Like, something our families would arrange for image. Pero with you, it’s the first time it feels like something real. Something I’d actually want.”

Chanyeol crosses to him slowly, hands resting gently on Baekhyun’s waist. “If we do it, it’s on our terms. Walang press. Walang plano from anyone else. Just you and me. However you want.”

“Even if my parents don’t show up?” Chanyeol cups his cheek. “Babe, the only thing I need at the altar… is you.”

Baekhyun blinks hard. “Cheesy ka pa rin,” he whispers, but he leans into the touch anyway.

“Is that a no?”

“It’s a not yet.” He smiles. “But it’s a yes someday.”

Chanyeol grins, pulling him into a hug. “I’ll wait. No rush. I’m already yours.”

A few days later, Baekhyun shows Chanyeol a digital blueprint.

“I started designing a house,” he says. “Syempre not a mansion ha! Just… us. May space for plants. A rooftop for stargazing. Maybe a dog.”

Chanyeol stares at the screen, eyes wide. “Are you— Is this real?” Baekhyun laughs. “Don’t cry, Park. It’s just a draft.” “It’s our draft,” Chanyeol says. “This is… this is the start of forever, huh? Seryoso na ba ‘to?”

Baekhyun nods. “And it’s stupidly beautiful.”

Chanyeol’s mom invites them over for Sunday lunch. No special occasion—just “para makakain ka ulit ng bulgogi namin, Baekhyun.”

They’ve always been warm, but this time it’s different .

Baekhyun helps in the kitchen, slicing kimchi while Chanyeol’s dad shows him a framed photo of Chanyeol as a baby in a hanbok.

“Gwapo na kahit baby pa lang,” Baekhyun laughs.

“He’s lucky you love him,” Chanyeol’s mom says, placing a hand gently on his back. “Kasi alam ko, mahirap ‘pag hindi tanggap. You’re patient. You stayed. That means something.”

Baekhyun blinks, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

“Tanggap ka namin, Baekhyun. Ever since he brought you home na para siyang aliw na aliw kasi nakuha at hawak niya ang mundo. Thank you for making our son… lighter.”

Outside, Chanyeol watches the scene through the sliding door, hand tightening around the ring box in his pocket.

It’s supposed to be a chill dinner with friends in a rented rest house near Tagaytay. They said it’s a late birthday dinner for Sehun.

But when Baekhyun steps into the garden, everything slows.

There are lights hanging from the trees. Fairy lights. Candles. A long wooden table full of their favorite food— ramyeon, Korean fried chicken, isaw, mango float, wine. Things they’d never serve at a formal family dinner.

Junmyeon smiles knowingly. “Welcome to the real celebration.”

Sehun throws his arm around Baekhyun. “You seriously thought this was for me? Baek, we all love you, but not this much.”

Then the music starts, Ben Platt’s Grow As We Go, playing softly in the background.

And Baekhyun turns.

Chanyeol’s already kneeling.

No crowd. No stage. Just friends. Just light.

Just them.

“Baek,” Chanyeol starts, voice a little shaky. “We’ve been through everything—family dinners, meddling titas, late nights, heartbreak, patience, distance, growing pains, joy. So much joy.”

“You made me brave,” he continues. “At dahil sa’yo, natuto akong manatili. You taught me that love doesn’t need to be loud to be strong. And even when we were falling apart, kahit ang daming gustong madurog tayo, we never stopped building.”

He opens the box. A silver ring with a simple diamond, engraved inside with the words, Pour Tojours. For always.

“Will you marry me?”

Baekhyun doesn’t cry right away. He just stares, frozen, like the air got knocked out of him.

Then he breathes. Laughs. Cries.

“Yes. Oh, love, yes. Of course I will.”

The friends scream. Minseok pops the champagne. Jongin starts crying. Jongdae breaks into an impromptu Beautiful cover. Sehun takes five thousand photos. Kyungsoo just smiles, eyes a little wet. Yixing and Junmyeon raise a toast.

“To love that grows,” Yixing says.

“To the kind that stays,” Junmyeon adds.

Baekhyun and Chanyeol lie under the stars later, their hands laced, ring catching the moonlight.

“Yeol?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think my family will ever come around?”

Chanyeol squeezes his hand. “Maybe not fully. But they’ll see kung anong binuo natin. And that’ll be enough.”

Baekhyun smiles. “We’re stupid in love.” “And finally surrounded by people who clap when we win.”

“Let’s keep winning and growing”

He doesn’t wear it on purpose. The ring’s just there, on his finger. Subtle, simple, but impossible to miss when he’s reaching for the serving spoon or pouring water into his glass.

His mother notices first. Her eyes narrow slightly. She doesn’t say anything until the main course. “Did you get engaged?”

The table quiets.

Baekhyun doesn’t flinch. “Yes.”

“With him?”

“Yes.”

“Walang pasabi?”

“Because I didn’t think you’d clap for it. Na kahit magmakaawa pa kami, hindi naman kayo sasangayon. We choose to be happy kaysa maging tama sa paningin ninyo.”

Silence.

His father clears his throat. “Are you rushing into this to prove a point?”

Baekhyun places his utensils down. “I’m marrying him because I love him. Not to prove anything. I’m tired of earning your permission for my own life.”

His cousin shifts awkwardly. Another uncle glances at his wine.

“Baka naman we can talk—”

“No,” Baekhyun says quietly. “Not everything needs a family vote. Hindi naman ‘to board meeting para kailanganin ko ang boto ninyo. Sanay na sanay kayong pakialaman lahat para lang maging maayos tayo sa tingin ng iba.”

Baekhyun is pacing barefoot in sweats, fingers tapping against his coffee mug. Chanyeol’s half-asleep on the couch, watching him curiously.

“What happened?”

Baekhyun turns.

“I don’t want a wedding with them at the front row kung ang dala lang nila ay judgment. I don’t want to wait for them to ‘come around.’ What if they never do? Will we just keep delaying what’s already ours ?”

Chanyeol sits up slowly. “What are you saying?”

Baekhyun exhales shakily. “Let’s go. Let’s just get married . You and me. Somewhere no one can interrupt.”

“Baek—”

“I already booked the tickets. Paris. Tonight.”

The plane is quiet.

Baekhyun leans against Chanyeol’s shoulder, fingers still wrapped around his passport.

“You really want to do this with just me?” Chanyeol asks softly. “You’re not just you. You’re everything. That’s more than enough.”

They don’t need a huge crowd.

They just need to say yes— without all the noise.

A cold morning at a quiet civil hall in the 4th arrondissement. No designer suits. No orchestrated walk down the aisle. Baekhyun’s wearing a soft beige turtleneck and black slacks. Chanyeol’s in a coat size  too big but warm with love.

They say their vows in a mix of Tagalog, English, and a few French phrases they practiced the night before.

Baekhyun is the first to tear up.

Chanyeol kisses him before the official gives the okay.

No witnesses.

No flashbulbs.

Just them. Their paper rings from a corner shop. A kiss beneath gray skies and quiet trees. A small camera on timer catching their first smile as husbands.

For two weeks, Paris was quiet and golden and soft.

They ate pain au chocolat in the mornings, walked hand in hand by the Seine, danced to street musicians in Montmartre, and kissed like no one else existed. Baekhyun designed on table napkins, little sketches of a dream house he hadn’t even told Chanyeol about yet. Chanyeol spent half the days trying to figure out espresso machines and watching Baekhyun laugh until he fell asleep on the couch.

No expectations. No noise.

Just love, ridiculously loud in its softness.

One evening, while watching the Eiffel Tower shimmer from their balcony, Baekhyun says, “I feel like we’re in the middle of a love letter.”

Chanyeol pulls him close. “Let’s never stop writing it.”

Group chat: 

[ 📌 142 unread messages ]

Jongdae:

*screaming*

Is this what it feels like to be ghosted by your best friends

Kyungsoo:

Hindi sila nagrereply

Nagpost lang ng tulips tas nawala ulit???

Minseok:

Ba’t may pic si Chanyeol na may hawak na marriage certificate sa back pocket? accidental ba yun or pa-tease?

Sehun:

Are they dead. Pinaghiwalay ba sila ng mga Byun. i’m dying to know. i’m spiraling.

Junmyeon:

Calm down. maybe they’re just… decompressing.

Jongin:

Baekhyun literally said “BRB lang, meeting” and then never came back

Baekhyun posts an Instagram story.

A Polaroid of them kissing in front of a small mairie building. Caption saying, “Parisian rain, a quiet 'I do,' and a love that finally feels like its own destination.”

Thirty seconds later, chaos .

They don’t even get a chance to plan a “soft reveal.” Their phones explode the moment they land back in Manila.

Baekhyun barely drops his carry-on bag before the group chat rings.

“Explain yourselves!” Jongdae yells as soon as the camera opens.

Chanyeol throws up peace signs. “Surprise! We got married!”

“PUTANGINA—” Kyungsoo disappears from the screen. Junmyeon laughs and wipes his eyes. “You both look so happy. Like… really. Genuinely.”

“We are,” Baekhyun says, reaching for Chanyeol’s hand. “Sorry if we ghosted you. We just… needed it to be ours first.”

Jongin sniffles. “You didn’t even ask me to dance at your wedding—”

“We didn’t even dance,” Chanyeol laughs. “Unless you count that time in the kitchen at 1 a.m. in pajamas.”

Yixing smiles. “Then let us throw you something. Kahit something small for us lang to celebrate.”

Baekhyun nods, heart full. “Okay. Something small. Something soft.”

The rest house is the same one from their surprise engagement, but this time, it’s different.

There’s no big setup. No stress. Just fairy lights strung again, a longer dining table, the smell of grilled liempo and kaldereta in the air. No suits. No photographers. No pressure.

Just their people.

Minseok arranges flowers. Jongin and Sehun handle the drinks. Jongdae sets up a mic for “just in case may pa-speech.” Kyungsoo bakes a cake. Yixing handles music while Junmyeon is in charge of food and everyone’s emotional stability.

Baekhyun walks out in linen, holding hands with Chanyeol, married for weeks but glowing like it just happened.

“Here comes the bride,” Sehun fake-whispers, earning a light punch from Jongin.

Chanyeol raises their hands. “Too late. Pinakasalan ko na.”

Someone dims the lights. A hush falls.

Junmyeon nods. “Go on. Say what you want. For us lang.”

Chanyeol clears his throat.

“I didn’t get to say this in Paris because I was too busy not crying— but babe, I didn’t just choose you. I still choose you. Every version of you. Every hard day. Every quiet night. Salamat dahil tinuruan mo akong manatili. Na kahit pagod na tayo, mas pinili nating bumuo kaysa bumitaw.Every mess and miracle you are. You’re my person. You always have been.”

Baekhyun’s lower lip trembles. He squeezes Chanyeol’s hand.

“I used to think love meant waiting for approval. Pleasing people. Not causing waves. Dati, akala ko kailangang perpekto ang lahat para maging karapat-dapat ako sa pagmamahal. But with you, I learned that love can be loud and peaceful. That it doesn’t need to be perfect to be real. Tinanggap mo ako nang buo, kahit noong ako mismo, hindi ko matanggap ang sarili ko. You’ve always let me be myself, even when I didn’t know how to.”

He laughs softly.

“And you made me believe that being stupid in love isn’t stupid at all. Not when it’s with you. I love you, Chanyeol. Higit pa sa sapat.”

They kiss again, for their friends this time.

Jongin wipes his face with his sleeve. Minseok claps slowly, eyes glassy. Kyungsoo pretends he’s not smiling. Sehun brings out disposable cameras and forces everyone to pose.

No loud music. No choreographed dances.

Just slow dancing on the patio. Laughter in between bites of cake. The sound of people who stayed, even when the world didn’t approve.

As the night winds down, Baekhyun checks his phone.

One message.

From his mom.

“I heard. Still, congratulations, anak. I’m still adjusting, but I hope he takes care of you. And I hope you’re happy.”

He stares at it for a while, heart thudding.

Chanyeol notices. “Everything okay?” Baekhyun nods slowly. “Nagpaparamdam lang siya. Malayo pa tayo, pero kahit papaano, sapat na muna ito.”

He looks at Chanyeol, smile soft and steady. “And I have everything I need right now.”

And even if it took running away to find it, Baekhyun finally found the kind of love he never had to explain—just live.

The house stands on a quiet ridge in Tagaytay. Modern, clean lines. Lots of glass. A sunroom full of plants. An open kitchen with coffee stains on the tiles and sketches stuck to the fridge with mismatched magnets.

Designed by Baekhyun. Built with Chanyeol’s money and patience. Filled with both of them.

A dog named Baguette, a female cocker spaniel rescued in Paris. A cat named Meowseok, adopted by accident from Minseok.

And a life they didn’t need to ask permission for.

Baekhyun is half-asleep, holding his coffee mug with both hands while Chanyeol flips pancakes badly.

“Hindi mo na kailangan lutuin ‘yan, you know?” Baek yawns, watching the edges burn.

Chanyeol shrugs. “It’s tradition. Anniversary breakfast.”

“Burnt food is not tradition.”

“But burnt food made with love.”

Baekhyun smiles, steps closer, and kisses Chanyeol on the jaw.

“Okay. Fine. Love wins.”

Chanyeol expanded the family business into eco-design development, pitching Baekhyun’s ideas to his board, even if some of them raised eyebrows. Especially the bamboo glass atrium for the Batangas project.

“Too whimsical,” one executive said. “Too Baekhyun,” Chanyeol replied. 

The project got approved anyway.

Baekhyun’s architecture firm, Studio PBH , launched their new office in Bonifacio Global City. Yixing sent orchids. Kyungsoo brought sandwiches. Jongin and Chanyeol cried during Baekhyun’s thank-you speech. Quietly. But Baekhyun saw.

After the ribbon cutting, Baekhyun whispered, “Do you still think we were stupid?”

Chanyeol said, “Only stupid enough to build something this beautiful.”

They rotate hosting duties every Sunday.

This week’s schedule, Kyungsoo & Jongin: bringing wine, Junmyeon: baked lasagna, Jongdae: said he’ll “bring the vibe” (and a speaker), Minseok: made kimchi, Yixing: flew in from Cebu for the weekend, Sehun: brought three pets for Baguette and Meowseok to play with.

The table is long. Too long for just them. But perfect for everything they’ve built together.

Between courses, Junmyeon lifts his glass. “To love that conquers and growing anyway.”

They all clink glasses.

It’s not dramatic. Baekhyun doesn’t cry. Chanyeol doesn’t freeze.

Just two people stepping out of a black SUV— his mother and father.

She’s holding a homemade dish. He’s holding a small wooden box.

Baekhyun walks toward them slowly, heart pounding like it’s opening a sealed door.

His mom speaks first. “Happy anniversary, anak.”

He swallows. “You remembered.”

“I made lasagna. Hindi ko alam kung tama ‘yung lasa. But I remembered it’s your favorite.” His dad clears his throat. “We saw your interview. The one where you said love taught you to stop apologizing for who you are.”

Baekhyun bites his lip.

“Hindi namin naiintindihan noon,” his dad continues, voice cracking. “But we’re trying now. If you’ll let us.”

Baekhyun nods, voice soft. “I’m not asking you to love what you don’t get. I’m just asking you to see that I’m okay.”

A pause. A breath.

“We do,” his mom says. “You’re more than okay.” Then she glances at the house, at the lights, at him, them. “And we want to see what he built with you. If we’re allowed.”

Baekhyun and Chanyeol lie on their backyard hammock, Baguette curled at their feet.

“Did we really do all that?” Baekhyun whispers. Chanyeol kisses his temple. “We did more than we ever dreamed.”

They fall asleep under the stars, a little tired, a lot in love, and completely whole.

For a design magazine spread on Studio PBH’s new eco-homes project in Palawan

Interviewer : “You and your husband have become quite the power couple— both in design and in business. Did you ever imagine this life when you were younger?”

Baekhyun : (laughs softly) “No. Honestly, I used to think I’d have to choose between my work, my family’s approval, and love. I didn’t know I was allowed to have all three.”

Interviewer : “What changed?”

Baekhyun : “Someone looked me in the eye and said, ‘Let’s stop apologizing for being real.’ So I stopped. And then we built something real. Messy, quiet, stubborn, full of growing pains, but real.”

“We got married in Paris because it was the only place that felt far enough. But we stayed married because we grew close enough. To each other. To our people. Even to the parts of ourselves we once avoided.”

They were stupid in love once. Brave in love later. And finally, they grew in it so gently, the world softened too.

They arrive quietly. No itinerary. No pressure.

Just two passports, one ring each, and a hotel room in the same arrondissement where they said their vows years ago.

Baekhyun opens the window on their first night back, letting in the crisp April air.

Same cobblestones. Same scent of old bricks and fresh bread.

But they’re not the same.

And thank God for that.

It looks exactly as they remembered, a small government building nestled between cafés. A bike chained to the post where Chanyeol once nervously paced.

Baekhyun brushes his fingers over the gate. “I was so scared that day.” Chanyeol grins. “You didn’t look scared. You looked like you were running away with a mission.”

“Well, I was.”

Baekhyun glances at him. “I just didn’t know if the world would let us stay happy for long.”

Chanyeol pulls him close. “We didn’t wait for the world, remember?”

Baekhyun sketches. Chanyeol reads. They talk quietly about nothing and everything. Sometimes they people-watch. Sometimes they just hold hands under the table.

“Gusto mo dito na tayo tumira ulit someday?” Chanyeol teases.

Baekhyun looks at him, then at the river. “Hindi na natin kailangan tumakas,” he says. “We can just… visit. And be.”

Before they fly home, they take one last walk through the park where Chanyeol tripped over a pigeon, past the bakery Baekhyun once bought five croissants from just to stall, and back to the bridge where they carved their initials into a lock they never hooked.

“Wala pala tayong sinabit na lock, no?” Baekhyun realizes.

Chanyeol grins. “We didn’t need to.”

He holds up his hand, showing Baekhyun the ring.

“We kept this. That’s better.” Baekhyun leans in. “Mas matibay ‘to.”

They kiss, with the city quiet around them. Not because they’re hiding but because they’re finally still.

They left for Paris a year ago to build a life. But when they came back, they found the life had already followed them home.