Chapter Text
Seonghwa stares at his reflection.
It feels almost meaningless now, looking at himself. Deep inside he knows he should be grateful. All his hard work in college and showing face to the privileged did brought him here—a man nearing his thirties with seven cars, his own suite and a thriving company. As if it wasn’t enough, he’s blessed with the charms and finesse that gets him what he wants when he needs it. But standing there in his sorry excuse of a home with no one there to greet him when he wakes up in the morning, or share his sentiments after a taxing day of work, there’s that lingering emptiness in Seonghwa’s chest he had learned to dismiss for quite some time now.
His tie feels a little bit tighter today, so he makes an effort to loosen it, knowing it was going to be another long day. Company gatherings were the worst. It's all fake smiles and conversations, an excuse for his employees to show off their Rolex or newly tailored coats, lots of people kissing ass to him as if it would get them magically promoted. Really, Seonghwa wants nothing but to lock himself in his office till it ends, but then he remembers he’s actually the CEO of his own firm and it leaves him no choice but to tolerate the nonsense interactions.
His phone rings, and he promptly opens his phone to answer it.
“Mr. Park, event will start in thirty minutes.”
Seonghwa hums a small yes at his secretary’s robotic voice before grabbing his keys.
Seonghwa is parched. How couldn't he be when throngs of people decided it was good idea to engage with him after delivering a speech? This was the eight—no, ninth conversation he had been looped into, and the burly sales manager and his wife can’t seem to stop talking. Seonghwa didn’t even take five minutes before he’s excusing himself for a glass of water, anywhere where another stranger won’t take up his time bragging about their job performance.
He paces across the function room, taking out his phone to check the time and praying this bloody thing would end. That is, until he collided with another body.
"Watch where you're going, geez."
Seonghwa paused. No one ever spoke to him like that before. Looking up the first thing he sees is the striking blue hair. It's hard to miss, almost reminding him of a grapefruit. It's the boy's height and backpack sagging on his narrow shoulders that made Seonghwa presume he's younger. Then there's the scowl on the boy's lips. It looked out of place on his small, charming face—all rosy lips and pristine skin. A face that has him staring a little too long.
He's beautiful. A firefly among this dark hellscape of capitalism. The boy looked like he should be in school rather than a company gathering full of men going through their midlife crisis.
"Hongjoong!"
A third party interrupts. It's another one of those faces he keeps seeing but doesn't bother putting a name on. "Mr. Park" The man forces the boy to bow down. "I apologize, it won't happen again."
"It's alright." Seonghwa says too quickly, because he doesn't want to cause a scene, a little because he's curious at the boy who has his face down his shoes.
The two men stand back up, and the first thing the young man does is raise a scrutinizing brow at him. He could only smile in amusement by the show of attitude.
"I'm Kim Sujoong.” The older man interrupts, “Newly promoted HR head, it's nice to finally meet you Mr Park." Seonghwa accepts the handshake, eyes still subtly glancing the boy whom the man shoves forward lightly. "This is my son, Kim Hongjoong. C’mon boy, be polite to the CEO."
Seonghwa doesn’t know why he makes the initiative to extend his hand, to which the boy just snorts and roll his eyes at, surprising him for the third time that night.
“I’m sorry about him again,” Sujoong laughs nervously, and he could tell the other was embarassed. “But I can’t believe I finally get to meet the face of the company…”
Normally, Seonghwa would excuse himself politely in these kinds of situation, too fed up with the crystal clear sucking up of his employees. But the other boy’s presence kept him grounded on his feet that Seonghwa forces himself to listen to the older. All the time he glances at the touch of youth who was entertaining himself with his phone as his father rambled.
Beautiful.
At some point between the mundane talk, Kim excuses himself somewhere Seonghwa couldn’t give a damn to care about. But when he sees the older man drag his son with him, it's the impulsive bubble of courage that has him saying, "How about I give your son a tour around?” He suggests calmly. “It's not every day we have fresh young faces in the company."
Mr Kim seems to be delighted with the idea as he nods eagerly and ushers his son forward. The blue haired boy just huffs an irritated ‘fine’ before following him.
The first time Seonghwa led Hongjoong to his office, he was stiff, ruminating why he even came up with the idea. But his little unease died down the moment he closes the doors of his office, and a mask drops from the boy’s face.
Hongjoong ran sprightly across the space, gawking at the interior. The young man didn’t even notice he almost knocked a lamp on the drawer, too awe-struck. Seonghwa wouldn’t blame him. It was a pretty nice office he curated himself from the furnitures to the decorations. Normally, he’d be hell bent over someone disturbing the neat arrangements, but for some reason that night, he doesn’t mind if Hongjoong misplaced half of the catalogues he spent hours organizing. In fact, Seonghwa smiles.
"This is a big office." The boy says promptly. "Do you have any games?"
Seonghwa couldn't help but laugh. "I'm sorry no." Watching Hongjoong seat himself on his Herman Miller chair, he should be irked, seeing someone so comfortable in his property, but Hongjoong looked adorable spinning himself with a grin that he just stood there, letting the boy be.
"How old are you?"
Seonghwa just came up with the question on the fly, hoping it will propagate to a talk that will keep the boy entertained. Frankly, it shouldn’t be a big deal, but he doesn’t know why his heart drops when Hongjoong answers, "I just turned 18."
Eighteen. Hongjoong is a teenager. There's a teenager in his office.
"How about you?" The other asks back, glancing at him briefly.
"I'm..." Seonghwa gulps. He's never been this unsettled with admitting his age. Seonghwa knows he’s the youngest one in his company, in fact one of the youngest executives in the entire damn country, and yet, here he was, a harmless question making him tongue-tied.
"I'm 27. Almost 28 actually." Seonghwa answers, to which the younger grimaces at.
"You're old."
Seonghwa chuckles. He is. "Not with the people in the company I'm not. Though I think my back is starting to ache sitting here half of the day." It’s the first time Seonghwa hears the other laugh and it has the corner of his lips twisting on its own. "What is a kid your age doing here Hongjoong?”
Hongjoong snickers before twisting himself on the seat again, legs hanging on the armrest. It made him look smaller all cramped up on the tiny space. "Dad made me attend. Thought it would make me love business by forcing me in a boring conference with braggy, old losers."
Seonghwa hopes he isn't one of those. "Do you like it?"
"Don't know." The younger replies boredly, "Just because I'm good at it doesn't mean I love it."
"The business or the men?"
"Hard to tell the difference between the two."
Seonghwa is impressed by the small exchange. If it were teenager him he would make a mess of himself stuttering in front of someone with high authority. But not Hongjoong, no. Hongjoong knew his way with words, and definitely not afraid to be playful with the way he was still swivelling himself on the seat.
"What do you like doing then?"
This time Hongjoong raises a brow. "And I should tell you because?"
Seonghwa blinks. Why should he tell him? Because he's the CEO? Because he’s older and holds a higher position than him? Because he has the power to fire his father on the spot?
"I...I don't know." is what all he manages to reply.
Hongjoong giggles, as if he found his answer the most amusing thing in the planet. The boy then immerses himself with the trinkets on his table. The snowglobe from Ireland. The Parker pens gifted by the maker of his Audi. His tiny, manicured fingers tapped each one of them with curiosity.
"Tell me what you like first." Hongjoong says, fishing out a lollipop from his pocket that he peels and pops into his mouth coolly. Suddenly, Seonghwa has the urge to impress the younger, but he fails grandly when his mouth opens and he answers the first thing in his mind.
"I like cleaning."
Hongjoong rests his chin on his palm. "You like cleaning?"
He should be embarrassed, but Seonghwa reminds himself he shouldn't be flustered in front of some teenager. "I do, is there something wrong with that?"
"You're a boring man Mr. Park." Hongjoong pokes the lollipop on his own lips. "But I like you."
Seonghwa should've known he was doomed when his heart skipped a beat at the words. But before he could even ponder on the first crash of restless wave, there's a knock on the door and Mr. Kim’s head peeks in.
"Son? I think you're already overstaying your welcome." Hongjoong's father gives him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry Mr Park, was he a handful?"
"No, no, of course not." He stands up to meet the man, “In fact I enjoyed his company.”
Hongjoong runs to his father’s side, bag bouncing on his back with every step. "What did you guys talk about?" The older asks.
Hongjoong turns to him, pulling out the candy with a loud pop that has his lips glistening with saccharine. "Mr Park was just talking about how I could visit here anytime so he could teach me the know-hows of the company.” The boy glances at him, smirking. “Right?"
Seonghwa froze, too shocked at the turn of events. Mr Kim as well with the way he brings a hand over his mouth, weathered eyes widening. The flattery is bleeding out of his face it's repulsive."I-Is this true?"
He knows he should say no. Dismiss it as nonsense. Call bullshit. But when his eyes meet with Hongjoong, head tilted to the side and tongue rolling against the candy, it has Seonghwa’s common sense swerving completely.
“Y-yes.” He clears his throat, “I mean if it's alright with you of course."
"I'd be honored." Mr Kim splutters, bowing to him. "This means a lot Mr Park. Hongjoong has always wanted to get into business. He passed all of his entrance exams and got into some good universities in Korea so you won’t be disappointed..."
Right, Seonghwa suddenly remembers eighteen year olds were still fresh highschool graduates. He tunes out to Mr Kim's rambling and focuses on Hongjoong instead, standing there innocently, tossing his lollipop from one cheek to another all the while grinning at him.
"...and this such a great opportunity you're offering us. Hongjoong," Sujoong turns to his son, who clearly wasn't paying attention as much as him. "What made you change your mind?"
Hongjoong simply shrugs, "Thought it would be fun."
Fun. Of course. Mr Kim seems satisfied with the answer when he starts retreating his steps, bowing endlessly. "Thank you for believing in my son, sir. I promise you he's going to be a good student."
Seonghwa nods, and hopes it doesn't betray the fact he's acting on the fly. "I don't want to see his potential wasted. I see a lot of things in store for him."
As Mr. Kim dragged the kid out of the office, Hongjoong looks back to him one more time and puckers his red stained lips as if to send a flying kiss his direction. It's supposed to be a playful gesture, something his friends would do to him too, but Seonghwa doesn't know why this one in particular makes heat flood his face.
Unbeknownst to him, he just made a deal with the devil at that very moment.
Seonghwa will never forget the first day.
The image is still crystal in his mind. Of Hongjoong’s ripped jeans, his colorful tie-dyed shirt and vibrant hair that made the boy stand out like a sore thumb. Hongjoong doesn’t seem to mind the stares he receives of his too casual wardrobe as they pace across the floor. Seonghwa remembers the younger unceremoniously dropping his bag on the ground and running across his workspace to casually throw himself over the leather couch.
At first, Seonghwa didn’t know what to do, a little overwhelmed by the other presence in the room. It’s all too vivid. The way Hongjoong rested his chin on the backrest. How his eyes glowed with the dayview from the transparent walls. It takes him a while to snap out from his daze and approach the boy with a clear of his throat, who only spares him a glance.
"I, uhm, I figured if you wanted to learn you can start with stocks? Here's a couple of books I used in college you can read. If that’s not your thing I have some videos you can watch but we usually give them to interns, so if you want, maybe I can arrange a tutor for y—"
"Bullshit."
Seonghwa blinks, taken aback. "I'm sorry?"
Hongjoong’s airy laugh rings in the room, making Seonghwa flustered. Did he do something wrong?
"Bullshit." Hongjoong repeats, wiping a nonexistent tear through the last fits of giggles. "You really thought I came here to learn about business?"
"What are you here for then?”
"Why did you do it?" Hongjoong answers back and he wasn’t used being talked back like this.
Seonghwa raises a brow. "Do what?"
"You know," Hongjoong smiles cheekily, "Played along the last time when I invited myself here. You could’ve called me out, told daddy I was lying. But you didn’t stop me. Do you like me Mr. Park?"
Seonghwa always knew his way with words—it’s what got him this life after all—but with Hongjoong, the boy seems to have an effect on him that has him pondering what to say first. Why did he do it? Because he felt like the boy belonged there? With him? Like a little splash of color in his gray life. He didn’t know. Seonghwa never really knew.
“I thought why not.” He excused, “I don’t see any harm letting you stay here as long as you don’t cause trouble. Besides, you seem like a good kid.”
"You're willing to have a kid you just met loiter around your office the whole summer?" Hongjoong stands up from the couch and sprints across the room to where his seat was, CEO label engraved. "Can I sit here?"
Seonghwa nods, watching the boy twirl himself on the seat with a chuckle before landing his feet to stop.
"I'm Hongjoong. I like music, reforming clothes and comfy chairs. I hate business and anything that has to do with numbers. Oh! And I also love blueberries that's why I dyed my hair blue." Running his fingers through his hair, Hongjoong side eyes the treats on his desk. "Do you mind?"
Seonghwa just cocks his head and watches the other take one of the lollipops, throwing the plastic wrapper carelessly on the floor. There's a small moan as he takes out the treat out and puts it in his mouth, but the businessman convinces it's just him hearing things.
“Seonghwa." He takes Hongjoong’s outstretched hand and the tiniest electricity runs through him. "You can call me Seonghwa."
"Seonghwa." His name rolls off Hongjoong's tongue like velvet. “Nice to meet you.”
That’s how his life started.
Seonghwa can’t deny the allure of someone so young, so beautiful even if he knows Hongjoong isn’t that person for him. Sometimes it’s nice to think about the what ifs and maybes, but Seonghwa has long learned to be content with what he has and recognize the barriers of reality. Still, it doesn’t hurt to watch just a little. Hongjoong doesn’t seem to notice. Seonghwa keeps tabs on him, just to make sure the boy doesn’t hurt himself sewing, or when the boy unintentionally throws the console on the TV screen every time he loses a video game—or at least that’s the excuse Seonghwa uses. He’s a responsible adult after all.
Most of the time it’s just Hongjoong all splayed out on the carpeted floor, watching movies or scrolling away on his phone. But there are those days Hongjoong frolics with what he can get his hands on such as when Seonghwa had to buy another chair because Hongjoong seemed to love occupying his. Though that seemed to be a bad decision when the boy decided it was a good idea to roll himself around the room like it was some bumper car, and eventually knocking off a vase. The laugh they get from it is more priceless than the African antiquity.
"You never tried a burrito?"
"I’m not a fan of Mexican food, Joong." Seonghwa didn’t know when he started getting so comfortable with the other.
Hongjoong gasps, "You're a caveman! Give me your phone we're going to order one." Seonghwa casually slides his phone to the other. "A Verizon." Hongjoong’s bright eyes sparkle through the retina screen. "You own a Verizon and didn't tell me?!"
"Just make the order.”
He was too busy with his other phone that he doesn’t notice Hongjoong running to his side until their shoulders collided. "Hey, how do I pay?"
It's the first time they've been this physically close, and he could smell a whiff of Hongjoong’s scent. Something fleeting and fruity that has the hairs on his back tingling. He always thought the boy was good-looking, but from here Hongjoong looked even more lovely. Features boyish but soft on the edges. His blue hair looking soft to touch. Pretty.
And that’s how their day will go. They would just talk when they have time, other than that they’ll mind their own business, Seonghwa with his job and Hongjoong with…whatever he was in the mood for the day. It's a miracle he even has time to spare to entertain the bubble of energy. But he finds himself dropping whatever task he's doing to talk to the younger.
At least, that’s how the first few weeks of Hongjoong’s stay went.
Seonghwa picked up Hongjoong’s charming little habit by the second week. Every day, unfailingly, Hongjoong would take one of the lollipops on his table. It was supposed to be a treat on the rare occasions when work partners bring their children with them, or maybe if he's craving a shot of sugar himself, but now they served a completely new purpose with Hongjoong consuming all of them.
"Lemon's ugly."
Hongjoong grimaces as he throws the fourth lollipop, his smile stretching when it shoots on the bin. Same fate went for the strawberry, milk and chocolate he taste-tested earlier. Hongjoong picks up the last one—blueberry, Seonghwa presumed from the blue wrapper.
"Hyungie…” Hongjoong waves the sweet across his face. “Will you try this for me?”
Unfortunately, Seonghwa’s occupied with finalizing his speech for tomorrow’s talk so he shakes his head with a tired smile. "I'm a little bit busy right now Hongjoongie. Maybe later when—"
But that didn't stop Hongjoong from shoving the dry candy inside his mouth. Seonghwa thought he'd gag at the sudden intrusion on his palates, but he’s able to get a taste of it before the former pulls it out of his mouth with an amused smile.
"How was it?" he asks innocently, like he didn’t just almost choke him to death with a lollipop.
Seonghwa would reprimand the younger, but the way Hongjoong was pursing his lips made it impossible for him to even raise his voice so he coughs out a “It tastes good.” before going back to work.
But all thoughts of work flies out his mind when Hongjoong does the unexpected and puts the same lollipop—the one that was in Seonghwa’s mouth seconds ago, his saliva still evidently glossed around it—and sucks on the blue candy hard, slurping on it, eyes never leaving his.
"You're right Mr Park." Hongjoong sneers, “Blueberry tastes good.”
The next day he had his secretary buy a whole pack of them. The light on Hongjoong's eyes was worth every cent.
Another thing Seonghwa learned about Hongjoong was his love for altering clothes. Reforming, kids call it these days. Hongjoong would lay out fabrics, bags, sometimes shoes. By now, his side of the office looks like an art studio Hongjoong would use to draw, spray, sew diligently. It’s fascinating how his talented hands could turn ragged clothes into something that looked like it could belong in the runway.
Sometimes Hongjoong would ask for his opinion here and there. For colors, patterns, even letting Seonghwa draw. Now he doesn’t have the knack for art, so he understands when the younger calls his choices old-fashioned or lame, but Hongjoong uses his inputs anyway and shows off his creation with a satisfied grin.
And that’s what Seonghwa likes about him. Hongjoong is ridiculously adorable in toeing the line between being mischievous and good-natured that Seonghwa doesn't mind.
Though work becomes a barrier between them sometimes. It becomes a heavy reminder to where he really stands on the other's life. One particular day Seonghwa had a business meeting with a conglomerate in China to land some important deal that has him brushing up his Mandarin last minute. After two hours of staring at the screen, Seonghwa plops back to his chair, rubbing his straining eyes, but they widen the second he feels weight on his thighs that has him sitting back up once more.
"Hongjoong what are you—“
He's cut off when Hongjoong squirms on his lap, as if making himself comfortable on the spot. His small frame is pressed flush on his chest, and Seonghwa wants to cry at the overwhelming pressure on his crotch. Then he sees the younger pull out two swatches of cloth.
"Which one do you think is better? Can't choose."
Hongjoong looks behind his shoulder and their eyes meet. Their faces were so close. One wrong move and Seonghwa just knows he’s going to do something he’ll regret forever. He wriggles on his lap once again, and Seonghwa has to bite back his lip when it sends an unwarranted shiver all over his body.
“I was thinking the plaid would look good on the sleeves,” Hongjoong explains, as if he wasn’t making the other suffer on the spot. “But then I saw this pinstripe one and now I’m confused, so which one?”
The younger shifts again, wiggling his ass ever so discreetly and it feels like he's being punished for a crime he's about to commit. It has him gripping his chair tightly, small dents already forming on the leather armrest.
"The one—" he exhales, "The one on the left."
"This one, huh?" Hongjoong smirks. "How about this? Would you like it if I use this?"
Hongjoong brings the other swatch closer, simultaneously grinding his hips down. Every blood on Seonghwa’s body seems to run south at the movement. The question weighs heavy on shoulder, on his lap, and the double meaning is making him lose his wits. He’s got two degrees in business and law—why the hell can’t he answer such a simple question?
"I..."
The alarm signifying the end of his break goes off and Hongjoong jumps off. Seonghwa takes a moment to recover from what just happened, lulled with the sound of the other's whistling.
"Thank you Seonghwa hyung.” He singsongs.
Something changed from that day on. As if the last time Hongjoong was meekly testing waters, and now…now he's dipping his whole feet. Every day became torture. From the younger's relentless teasing, delivered through his playful words to his unsubtle touch. It’s driving Seonghwa insane. He knows he should stop. Stop Hongjoong from doing whatever he was doing before Seonghwa spirals into it.
It gets worse when Hongjoong puppy eyed his way into asking him to be the human dummy for his pieces. Hongjoong always seemed to insist to be the one to put the clothes on him, claiming ‘you might break them with your old, money hands’, to which Seonghwa snorts at. It's bearable when it's just a bag. A jacket he can throw over his shoulder. But this time it was a belt.
Seonghwa promptly clears his throat and averts his eyes to the ceiling. Anywhere but to Hongjoong who’s kneeling between his legs undoing his belt. If anyone were to walk in they’d get the wrong idea in a snap. Why did Hongjoong have to be in such a compromising position just to slide the belt on the loops of his trousers?
“Hmm…I think it will look good if I add a gold border.” Hongjoong mutters, hands on his hips to keep him still. Seonghwa makes the mistake of looking down, and he gulps. “What do you think?”
“I think you should get up before someone sees us.”
“Why?” Hongjoong circles his arms around his neck, “What would they see hyung?”
Seonghwa stares hard, pondering hard whether he should give the answer the other wants, or skirt along that line they’d been dancing around together for a while now. Thankfully Hongjoong doesn’t reply and instead picks up another set of interweaved belts that could only be a harness.
"Can you put it this on me?"
He barely catches the harness being thrown at him before Hongjoong turns around. Seonghwa cautiously wraps his arms around the other in a distanced backhug, wary if he’s overstepping the line, but he continues when Hongjoong guides his hands in locking the accessory in place around his body.
Seonghwa never knew he’d get to the point he’d playing dress up with a kid almost ten years younger than him, yet here he was, and something about it makes him laugh.
"Is it that ugly?” He hears Hongjoong snort.
“No, no…” Seonghwa amusedly shakes his head. “It’s actually really nice, Hongjoong.”
Hongjoong turns around to face him again, this time to pout. Fucking pout. "Just nice?"
If he could take a picture of that moment, he would. Of Hongjoong looking up at him with the prettiest eyes. The sunset that bled through the walls, lustering his ocean hair. To his embrace—the warmth it brought, the warmth everywhere. Seonghwa just knows if Hongjoong pays a little more attention, he’d hear how fast his heart was hammering against his chest.
"Perfect." Seonghwa momentarily breaks out of his trance to say, "You look perfect."
At some point he forgot about Mr Kim. The man becoming nothing but a means for him to check on the boy on days Hongjoong wouldn’t show up. Sujoong seems to be set for Hongjoong to follow his footsteps—a corporate slave. Seonghwa doesn't want the younger to deteriorate like him and lose his life to work in his twenties.
But maybe Seonghwa hadn’t lost all of his life after all. Not when he feels the erratic thump of his heart when he hears his office door open at eight in the morning every day. When there's a rush of energy pumping him up when he sees Hongjoong in his obnoxious clothes playing around. Wooyoung from sales even commented how he was acting weird. Seonghwa didn’t even need to ask because he knows. He knows he’s been acting off, his infamous indifference and frankness fading ever since Hongjoong came to his life.
Usually he’d just let Hongjoong be. Even if he was blasting a whole playlist or cursing loudly on the television, Seonghwa could still patiently admire the younger. But today isn’t one of those days. Someone fucked up an important proposal again that led him to exit the conference room in rage. Which explains why he feels irked hearing the unwarranted moans that resonated in the room from whatever movie Hongjoong was watching.
"Hongjoong..." Seonghwa pinches the bridge of his nose frustratedly. “What are you doing?”
"Right, they don’t have Netflix back in your time." The younger sasses, eyes fixated on the laptop screen which was still blasting a whole sex scene for everyone to hear.
"I know what Netflix is, but please, keep the volume down. I'm in the middle of something."
"Pfft, killjoy." Insult aside, Hongjoong thankfully obeys and plugs his earphones.
For a second Seonghwa thought he can finally have some time to run through the agenda for his next meeting, until he hears another small whimper. He's about to reprimand the other again until he notices that the sound wasn’t coming from the device anymore, but from Hongjoong who's propping himself with his elbows, hands travelling down under his shorts. The younger’s back is against him, but he could clearly see the slightly parted legs and the cargo shorts loosened below his slim waist, just enough to slip a hand under them. A moan. When he moves back from his chair, that’s when he sees it.
Hongjoong was touching himself.
Seonghwa's mouth goes dry at the sight of the small hand moving up and down on his length, the thumb rubbing over the swollen head. Hongjoong lets out an obscene moan, his small frame arching to his touch. He feels like a pervert watching this, but Hongjoong shouldn’t even have the audacity to do such a thing inside his office. Was he aware Seonghwa was still there? Was Hongjoong doing this on purpose?
Hongjoong’s breathy whimpers echoed lightly across the air, each one knocking Seonghwa’s self-control like a punch in the stomach. His own arousal stirred under his pants and it's hard to ignore when Hongjoong was out here, secretly putting a show for him. It’s a challenge to resist the pull to go there. To hear more of those dirty, little noises. To see his face. To help him.
When Hongjoong cums, there's spurts of white painting his hand. Seonghwa feels his soul leave his body when the boy's small body quivered as he rides out his high, and his mind could only paint a thousand images of what Hongjoong looks like climaxing, leaving a pulse of desire to course through his body. The younger is quick to recover when he stealthily zips up his pants and gets up in record time.
"Hyungie you have some wet tissues?"
Seonghwa’s pretends he didn’t care, until he catches a glimpse of Hongjoong who looked so fucked out, skin glowing, and azure hair matted on his forehead even in the cool temperature. It has him clumsily pushing the box of tissues across his table.
The kid isn't even trying to be discreet when he leans forward and smirks. "Thank you, Mr Park."
There was no way Hongjoong doesn’t know what he’s doing. It couldn't all be in his head. Not with the way Hongjoong's gazing at him. Not when Hongjoong spent every single moment of the day trying to rile him up in the subtlest way possible. He was sure of it. Seonghwa never thought he’d sink this low that he’s attracted to a goddamn teenager when he’s almost thirties. But he can’t bring himself to regret it, because Hongjoong is probably the only person that Seonghwa can genuinely say he liked.
Still, the image of Hongjoong in his highschool uniform looms heavy on his mind.
"How's Hongjoong?” Mr Kim tips the edge of the mug on his lips, and Seonghwa watches distastefully as he consumes the sad excuse of caffeine. “I hope he's behaving. He’s learning from the best after all."
Learn. Seonghwa wants to laugh. If they could call playing around, watching movies or sewing clothes as learn then yes, Hongjoong was indeed learning a lot.
This was the usual template of their talks. Either one of them will ask how Hongjoong was, then Seonghwa forces himself to listen the old man ramble, depending how long his mouth could tolerate the shitty canteen coffee, before coming up with an excuse to leave. But today, he stays a little longer when the other brings up about Hongjoong getting into the business scene.
"What do you mean?" Seonghwa mused. It was the first time he showed interest to Kim’s words.
Sujoong snickers, "Between you and me, we've been fighting about this for a while now. Kid wanted to get some useless art degree out of the country. One of those top universities. Hongjoong’s good in doodling sure, but like you’d even make money from those, right?"
There’s something about the man’s sarcastic remark that makes Seonghwa grind his jaw. "Well if he loves doing it maybe it’s not that useless.”
“Sure. If he wants to end up like those, pardon my language, piss-poor hipsters on the streets. These days we have to be realistic you know. That’s why I want my Hongjoong to be successful while he’s young like you. I mean, look at you sir, The Park Seonghwa. Topping the state exams and one of the youngest firm owners in the country.” Sujoong clicks his tongue. “Now that’s a job.”
Seonghwa knows he should leave. The coffee’s coming off too cold and leaving a terribly bitter aftertaste in his tongue now, but it doesn’t sit right just walking out like that. Not when Hongjoong is being insulted by his own flesh and blood like this.
“I still don’t see why you’re against the kid doing what he likes, he seems to have a knack for it. Not everything revolves around money you know.”
Mr Kim shakes his head and pats him on the shoulder. "Ah, young men like you wouldn't understand Mr Park. Wait till you find a woman to settle with."
Seonghwa doesn’t want to know how that even adds up and politely excuses himself out of the break room before he says something he won’t be able to take back. When he comes back to his office, Hongjoong is on his spot playing with some jenga blocks.
"What did daddy dearest tell you?" The younger asks while carefully dropping a wooden piece on the stack.
"Everything but the fact you're just loitering in my office." Seonghwa jokes, making the younger laugh. Cute.
Hongjoong leaves his toy to sprint towards him, the oversized sweater bouncing on his lithe frame. Then he clings to him like the usual, and until now it’s too early for Seonghwa to say he’s used to the joy of it.
"Being an adult is boring." The sweater paws are adorable. Hongjoong is adorable. "All you do is get old, make money and work till you die. You lose your humor too!"
Seonghwa gives him a look, "I thought so too when I was your age. You'll understand when you get there."
"I'd rather have you as my daddy, you're way nicer to me."
A damn tease as usual.
It’s this thing between them. This thing where they’d been prancing on the line for so long. Seonghwa wants to stop, too scared of what lies ahead if he as much as makes a bold move, but at the same time he wants to slow down, to ease himself from spiraling into Hongjoong. It was when he first invited Hongjoong over to his place—a penthouse suite in the center of the city—when his resolve started to crumble. It started like a small push of a wheel on what he thought was a rough terrain, not knowing what lies ahead was a steep cliff he can’t escape from.
After the younger kept whining ‘i wanna go to your place pretty please’ nonstop along with a plethora of complaints how the office was getting boring, Seonghwa finds himself giving in to his whims. Admittedly it feels nice seeing someone else in this box he lives in. Seonghwa could never really call it home. There’s too much loneliness of a bachelor evident in it—careless hook-ups, alcoholic mistakes and depression looming in the air. It makes Seonghwa sick sometimes. Maybe it’s why he slaves away his days in the company as an excuse away from the misery.
But seeing Hongjoong there mesmerized, decorating the room with his presence, illuminating every corner with the curious glimmer of his eyes and his laugh--maybe, just maybe, Seonghwa can call it home. There’s been more life in the suite for the last five minutes than it did the past five years.
Hongjoong throws himself on his bed. A king-sized that was never really exploited for its size. Until now. “It’s so soft hyung.” he giggles, nuzzling his face on the stark-white pillows. The boy sits up, blanket over his head, “Hyung, come here!”
Before he could even take a step, Hongjoong stands up and pulls his arm forward, bringing them both tumbling down the bed. Seonghwa feels the throbbing of his pulse against his skin as he relishes on the newfound warmth in his restplace. “Hyung…” Hongjoong whines, “Can we play tonight?”
Seonghwa brushes a loose strand away from his face. “What do you have in mind?”
“Well, it involves a lot of sweating and blindfold.” All sorts of improper thoughts started flooding his mind and he just knows Hongjoong was messing with him on purpose when he throws his head in a laugh to say, “I mean hide and seek silly.”
Of course Seonghwa couldn’t say no. So they play. They play until Seonghwa stubs his toe on the edge of the bed and Hongjoong is cackling. They play until the younger was drenched in sweat from hiding under the couch. They play until both of them are a tangled mess when Seonghwa lifts an unsuspecting Hongjoong to his bed, who thrashes on his hold.
When they lay there, Seonghwa takes a moment to admire the other. Admire Kim Hongjoong, the enigma that came in his life without warning. Sweeping him off his feet with a force that always leaves him wanting more. Needing more.
“Gonna shower now.” Hongjoong sprints to the bathroom.
It shouldn’t have been a big deal, until he hears the shower go on, and it hits him. A door away was Hongjoong, naked and taking a shower, on his own bathroom. Seonghwa tries to will away every indecency his brain supplies, choosing to walk around in circles in his room to distract himself.
It feels like forever when he hears the water stop, and Seonghwa sighs in relief. But just when he thought his suffering was over, out came Hongjoong, wearing nothing but a white robe. His protruding collar bones were showing, as well as a small cleavage, the robe only covering half of his legs revealing those soft, silky thighs for him to see.
“I’m sleepy.” Hongjoong groans as he throws himself back on the bed, body bouncing against the mattress. By the next minute, the younger was knocked cold, poor thing probably exhausted.
Seonghwa was immediately drawn to the sleeping figure. He couldn’t help it. There was too much skin unravelled by the loose robe that his eyes unconsciously wander on Hongjoong’s gorgeous body. Not too much bones and fat. The small dip on his waist made him slightly curvy up to his flat stomach. His legs, god his legs looked like a dream. Hongjoong looked peaceful sleeping. Innocent. Tempting.
Seonghwa shakes his head before running to the bathroom and locking himself in. The sprays of water on his face does nothing to calm him down, and even when he stares at himself through the mirror, he could see the distress and frustration marring on his forehead. What was he doing? Thinking of a teenager’s body like that.
His attention suddenly lands on Hongjoong’s discarded sweater on the floor. He knows he should leave it there, call it a night and sleep in the couch, anywhere away from the younger, but Seonghwa loses to his demons when he brings the sweater to his nose, inhaling the lingering smell. It's intoxicating, sending him in a trance that has him ridding his clothes, hopping in the shower, and palming around the hardness that he didn’t know was there all along.
Seonghwa thrusts into the closed fist of his hand, imagining what it would like if it were someone’s hands, someone’s mouth, blue hair moving back and forth between his legs as he fantasizes being swallowed down whole. It wasn’t his fault. Hongjoong did this to him. The boy had been nothing but irresistibly enticing, driving him on the edge then pulling him back in with a bat of those innocently pretentious eyes. It’s all on Hongjoong, Hongjoong, Hongjoong…
When he releases into his own hand, Seonghwa bites his lips, eyes glassed with tears. The guilt and disgust eat him away just shortly.
Seonghwa avoids Hongjoong like a plague, coming in late and getting out early just so he could have an excuse to send the other home. In hindsight, it was probably stupid and Hongjoong is a smart kid to know if his presence is unwanted, which probably why he didn’t visit today. With his absence, Seonghwa’s been spacing out way more than necessary, until the telephone’s ring snaps him back to reality.
"Good morning. Is this Park Seonghwa?" A woman's voice.
"Speaking."
"This is the head of Anyang High. We need you to come over."
Seonghwa raises a brow. Transactions like these usually go to his secretary first, so to have a school directly reaching out for him was odd. "I'm sorry but did you have an appointment scheduled that I might have missed?"
There was a short static, before the woman answers. "I apologize for such a short notice, but Kim Hongjoong wrote you as his guardian here. If you are busy I could just try calling his father again."
Hongjoong.
Seonghwa left his office before she could even explain. When he arrived, a couple of summer class students were gawking at him in his corporate suit glory, but he’s not here for the attention and brisk walks to the principal’s office where he found a grim-looking Hongjoong sitting tightly across a woman.
"Ah, you must be Mr. Park come in."
Seonghwa runs to the boy’s side immediately. "What happened? Did he get hurt?"
"Oh no," The woman chuckles, "He just got himself in trouble after being caught spray painting one of the bathroom stalls. Now I know he’s not part of the summer class program, but he is still part of the school. Nothing serious, just a minor violation of policy."
"Policy my ass." Hongjoong grumbles under his breath.
Seonghwa's eyes widen, glancing nervously at the principal. "I apologize on his behalf. How much is the damage?" Hopefully he has some paper bills in his wallet somewhere.
Hongjoong storms out with that, slamming the door at his exit. Thankfully, there weren't any major consequences other than a warning, to which he signed a few papers for before leaving. Outside, Seonghwa sees the younger with a spray can in his hand, moving it against the bumper of his car.
"Hongjoong!"
Seonghwa grabs his wrist, but Hongjoong retaliates by throwing the spray at his direction, barely missing contact with his shoulder before the boy comes running to his arms. Then…he cries. It's the first time he saw Hongjoong cry. None of the cocky front he likes to put on or the playfulness Seonghwa was used to. Just a sad, vulnerable boy in his arms.
"I hate them. I hate school." The boy fisted on his suit, weakly punching him in the chest as he sobbed. Hongjoong felt even smaller like this.
"Hey it's okay, you did nothing wrong." Seonghwa reciprocates the embrace, letting his dress shirt get soaked with tears.
"I-I just wanna do what I want to do. Dad put me on this dumb school to go into some stupid business school and I hate it. I really, really hate it Seonghwa hyung…”
The drop on Hongjoong’s voice dents his chest. The sadness in it was so genuine. Seonghwa could only imagine the suffering the younger had to go through after being forced in a box his father trapped him into. "Hey, look up." Seonghwa lifts the younger's chin to face him. Pretty even in tears. “It’s gonna be alright. I’m here for you, berry.”
"Berry?" Hongjoong sniffles, a pout forming on his lips. "Is it because I'm small?"
Seonghwa chuckles, pressing a kiss on his temple. It’s an innocent gesture, and fortunately Hongjoong doesn’t question the impulsiveness of it. He hadn’t meant for the name to slip out. It was a fleeting idea that crossed his mind from time to time, thinking it how much it suited Hongjoong. His blue hair. His sweetness. The slight tang of boldness. Rough on the edges with mischief but ripe of talent and sprit inside. His berry.
"What do you say we get out of here and go do something you want?"
For once in his life Seonghwa felt like he did something right when he sees the smile on Hongjoong’s face.
When Seonghwa said they’d do something he wants, he didn't expect Hongjoong to suggest getting shit faced in a club. It's been too long since he'd been inside one, the closest thing being a strip club his friend Yunho dragged him into on a bachelor's night. Even he had to leave there early, not really feeling anything but pity on the half-naked men and women flocking around him.
Hongjoong is a ball of fire in the dancefloor. Between the unghastly crowd of bodies, the blue-haired boy stood out like nebula for him. Singing his heart out to the hefty beats. Array of colors from the lights dancing on his face. Swaying his hips in a way that has Seonghwa taking large sips of his martini. Thank god he could hold his alcohol well, unlike Hongjoong who was drunkedly partying his life after a couple of shots. He’s pretty sure Mr Kim will gut him alive for even allowing his son to enter this high-end private club in Gangnam.
It’s hypnotizing, watching Hongjoong flying on his high, until he sees a stranger getting too close to him and Seonghwa automatically comes to the rescue bumping through the sweaty bodies.
“Hyungie!” Hongjoong shouts through the loud music, all half-lidded eyes and flailing arms. Drunk.
"Sorry have to take my brother home now." Seonghwa inwardly cringes at his choice of excuse.
"No, hyungie, he's nice!" Hongjoong whines, slotting his head between the crook of his neck and jaw. A pair of lips unintentionally contacts the sensitive spot there, making Seonghwa gasp.
"Brother?" The other man raises a brow, smirking. "Little bit old to be your brother there pretty."
Seonghwa grits his teeth at the petname the sleazy stranger throws on. “None of your business I believe.”
Hongjoong stands again, chuckling, and pokes a finger at the stranger’s chest. "Seonghwa’s old. But that's okay because he's handsome, hot and rich. He could literally buy this club if he wants to." Hongjoong turns to him, “Right hyungie? C’mon show him great you are.”
"Hongjoong." Seonghwa warns, hands gripping the other’s wrist tightly. He turns to the stranger one last time as he drags Hongjoong with him. "We really must get going."
"Okay, hyung." The guy drawls mockingly.
When they go out, Hongjoong breaks free from his grasp to spin around the sidewalk. Seonghwa is torn between witnessing the younger make a fool of himself and remembering where the hell he parked his car.
"Hongjoong, hey, get yourself together."
Hongjoong just resorts to giggling in the middle of the street. In the end, Seonghwa has to carry the kid bridal style just so he could mount him in his car. The younger plops on the seat still giggling and he resists the urge to squish the other’s cheeks and coo at how cute he was even if drunk.
Seonghwa runs to the driver’s seat, eager to start the engine so he could take the boy home safely. But before he could even slot the keys in, Hongjoong gets on his lap, legs bent on each side of his hips, and crashes their lips together.
Hongjoong kisses like it's his last, all teeth and tongue and a mess of saliva. Breath-taking and addicting and warm...all at the same time. Seonghwa's hands find themselves around the younger who pulls him closer until their bodies are flush, the friction electric and alive between them. Every single bone in his body screamed wrong, wrong that he shouldn’t be kissing him like this, he’s drunk and he doesn’t know what’s going on, but when Hongjoong tilts his head so that he could brush his lips against Seonghwa’s, it’s like the pieces in his heart finally snaps itself in place.
It’s only when Hongjoong grinds down on him that Seonghwa grabs his last thread of morals and coarsely pulls himself apart from the other.
"Joong, w-we can't...you’re too young I'm—"
"And you're so fucking hot." Hongjoong finishes with a giggle. "Do you think I don't know how you look at me, hm? How you check me out when we're alone in the office. You want me, hyung. Don’t even try to deny it because it’s so obvious. I'm not dense, Park Seonghwa.”
Seonghwa is speechless. Fuck he knows. Hongjoong knows and he can already hear the sirens ringing in his head. But he’s too distracted by the feel of Hongjoong’s mouth against his, a fire licking his insides as the other probes his it with his soft, sweet lips. Groaning, Seonghwa pulls away once more, a string of saliva breaking when they do.
"Hongjoong…Hongjoong, stop."
The younger cocked his head to the side, "Stop?" His hips worked their magic, pulling Seonghwa firmly against himself.
"Oh-fuck," An embarrassingly loud moan escaped his lips when the younger bit down hard on the junction between his shoulder and neck, rutting his hips up against his, "Hongjoong, don't-"
"And why exactly do you want me to stop? You seem to be enjoying this."
"B-because, this is wrong…fuck, Hongjoong listen to me!" Seonghwa moved his arms to push at Hongjoong's chest as hard as he could, and it worked, as he successfully managed to free himself and move Hongjoong back to the adjacent seat. They were getting riled up, but it was nothing compared to what would surely happen if they went on like this.
"Hongjoong?” Seonghwa checks on the other who was staring at him blankly with a drunk blush.
Then Hongjoong passes out.
Seonghwa felt like he was being buried alive while he drives the boy to his house. Thankfully Mr Kim was not there, so he carries the drunk boy upstairs to where he assumed his bedroom was. Hongjoong was clingy, refusing to let go even if Seonghwa already tucked him to bed, but he knows where his limits stand and tears himself apart the younger until he walks out of the room.
He looks back at the sleeping boy one last time before locking the door.
What has he done?
Hongjoong doesn't come the day after. Or the day after that. The only string of assurance he got was when Mr Kim texted him that the younger was down with a cold. Seonghwa immediately arranged a doctor to be sent to their place, covering everything he needed to take so he could recover fast.
Still, it has Seonghwa on his nerves. What if Hongjoong told someone? The kid was unpredictable, it would instantly be in the news and the career he built from ground up would instantly be in shambles. It's killing him. He's anxious as he stares blankly ahead the view from his office, growing stack of unread proposals on his table.
The ringing of his phone has Seonghwa flinching. "Who's this?" he answers shakily.
"Kim Sujoong is with his son Mr Park, should I let them in?"
Seonghwa feels a lump forming behind his throat. "Go ahead."
This is it, anytime the cops are going to come here and cuff him on the ground. All because he couldn’t get his stupid urges under control. He’s a molester. He kissed an eighteen-year old and liked it. No, loved it.
But all his worries dissipate when he was greeted by a smiling Mr Kim and a bored looking Hongjoong trailing behind him. "I'm sorry for his absence the past few days. He was sick for some reason, but we really appreciate for the doctors you sent sir." The man bows.
"Of course, no problem." Seonghwa replies, but everyone knows where his attention was.
"Now, son.” Mr Kim turns to the boy, “You have work to make it up to the boss, be good okay."
Hongjoong just gives an irritated look before dropping his bag on the floor. "Whatever."
They were left alone together once more. Hongjoong walks to his table first, picking up a blueberry lollipop.
Seonghwa noticed the other wasn’t acting any different, so he stiffly resigns himself back to his workspace. All the while Hongjoong’s eyes were on him, as if the boy was reading him, calculating his every move, but he doesn’t say anything other than munch on the lollipop loudly. His stare is unnerving, making Seonghwa’s heart palpitate and sweat even in the cool room. Hongjoong continues watching him until the last bits of the sweet melts on his mouth, a faint shade of blue painting the inside of his lips.
"Are you feeling better now?" Seonghwa breaks the silence. The lack of response makes him look up, and he didn’t even notice the other was already running to his side.
“What are you doing?” Seonghwa is frozen on his feet when Hongjoong forces him to stand up to pull him in an embrace, nuzzling his face against his chest. He’s too stunned to even reciprocate the hug, as if touching the boy would burn his hand, the flames of his errant actions a week ago consuming him alive.
"Missed you." Hongjoong looks up, “I can’t believe you’re just going to ignore me like that after that night hyungie.”
It’s like Seonghwa’s soul leave his body. He looks around, double checking if the door is locked and if anyone could see through the blinds. Then he diverts his attention back to Hongjoong who’s smiling ever so sweetly at him. It’s crazy. This is crazy. Hongjoong is driving him crazy.
"You remember?" Seonghwa tries to remain calm, but the break in his voice gives it away. "Hongjoong, I’m so, so sorry, you were drunk and I should’ve been a more responsible. If…if you want to get counselled I completely und—“
He's cut off by a pair of lips on his, effectively shutting him up. Hongjoong was just as sweet as he remembers. The artificial blueberry is strong, but it doesn’t shadow the raw taste of the other’s mouth, the way it's intoxicating and delicious. And this, this was all Seonghwa needs. He’d been tethering on the edge the entire time for this.
"How could I even forget hyung." Hongjoong pulls back with a smile. “Couldn’t forget how you taste. I spent all my sick days trying to recover just so I could do this again.”
Seonghwa feels his knees weakening. This can’t be happening. This shouldn’t be happening. He tries again. “Hongjoong, you don’t know what your doing. I—“
Hongjoong’s mouth shuts him up again. This time a moan slips from his mouth, and he feels a tongue curl around his and god, Hongjoong tastes like many things—his favorite chocolate, sunsets, the sugar on his coffee, blueberry. Kissing him—more than anything—felt exhilarating and special. Forbidden things taste the sweetest and indeed, it was.
Seonghwa lifts Hongjoong up, the younger's legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. It's enthralling how easy it is to carry Hongjoong to his table, seating him down there as he continues to dig deeper, to kiss like he’s drowning in Hongjoong’s air. They only stop to take a breath, foreheads pressed together as they lazily smile on each other, panting.
"But your dad." Seonghwa sighs, "Everyone might find out."
"You’re such an old man,” Hongjoong giggles, fiddling with his tie. “No one will find out silly. With our age, they won't even suspect it."
“Hongjoong, you don’t understand. This…” he huffs, “This will ruin your life. I can take the fall but you…berry I don’t want you to be hurt, it’s too risky. Your dad works for me, someone—someone could see us and the first thing they’ll see is their CEO harassing a kid.”
“So you don’t want me?” Hongjoong challenges, “Is that what you’re saying?”
“No, fuck Hongjoong, I’ve always wanted you. Y-you don’t understand how much I want this, want you.”
Hongjoong traces a finger across his jaw. “And I want you too, hyungie…C’mon you’ll never know unless you try. It'll be our secret Seonghwa."
Seonghwa didn’t know why he trusted the other so easily. He’s ten fucking years older than the other for christ’s sake, the adult between the two of them with ten more years worth of experience that should be enough to shed light of the gravity of this thing between them. But as Hongjoong peppers kisses across his cheeks, his face, his lips, his steel revolve crumbles before his eyes. He’s only a weak, weak man. He could shoulder the blame and shame if anyone found out, but for now all that matters is Hongjoong.
Their secret. But why does it feel like it was more his than Hongjoong’s.