Work Text:
1
Anticipation curls in Hongjoong’s gut and keeps him from sleep. He had tried to distract himself with work, but his MacBook sits open and untouched on his lap as endless hopes and worries battle in his mind. Hongjoong lets his head fall back to rest against the couch cushion.
Tomorrow he and the other boys will be meeting with the KQ Vice President and other company staff about their debut and officially deciding their positions within the group.
For the most part, Hongjoong is excited because this meeting makes it real. It marks the beginning of the end of his time as a trainee. Three years spent working himself to the bone, pushing himself past his limits, and hoping beyond hope that he could make himself good enough to be what the company needs him to be. Because Hongjoong may have sparked KQ Entertainment’s interest in debuting another boy group after so many years, but that didn’t necessarily mean that he had what it was going to take to be an idol.
Hongjoong is not a naturally gifted dancer or singer, and he’s not tall or strikingly attractive enough to compensate for the lack of skill. Hongjoong just enjoys making music, and in order to cultivate that passion and expand his reach, he has had to advance himself in other aspects of the industry as well. Idly, he wonders if tenacity could be considered a talent, because he certainly wouldn’t have gotten this far without it. Hongjoong may not have been born with any of the conventional idol traits, but he’s stubborn and hard working enough to make himself good at anything he sets his mind to.
Hongjoong wonders if that same diligence can be applied to being a good leader.
After six lonely months spent as KQ’s only trainee, Hongjoong had been ecstatic when the other boys started arriving. Yunho, who was friendly and funny and easy to talk to—the kind of person who could get along with anyone—and his dance academy friend, Mingi, whose sweet and goofy personality really shined in Yunho’s presence. San with his dimpled smile and Seonghwa with his boxy grin, who had both traveled to Seoul from their rural homes to chase their dreams. Yeosang, whose pure heart and statuesque appearance hid a surprisingly perceptive mind and brutally honest personality. Jongho, who was young in age but old at heart, with the strength of a bear and voice of an angel. And Wooyoung, Yeosang’s best friend and high-energy counterpart, who was as endearing as he was annoying and absolutely impossible to hate. All three of which had left much bigger and well-known agencies to join KQ. One by one, the team had formed, and Hongjoong had naturally fallen into the role of leader.
But that had just been happenstance, and just because the boys had let him take the lead up until this point, it doesn’t necessarily mean that they will want him as their official leader when they debut. Hongjoong knows that they get annoyed with his nagging, and they often whine about him being a tyrant. In fact, the kids have taken to calling him Pok-Joong on the occasions that his patience wears a little too thin and he snaps at them. He doesn’t like to be that way, but his team has a lot of energy and can get wild and unruly at the drop of a hat. Hongjoong often speculates that this must be the frustration of a father and his children.
So again, Hongjoong wonders if he does get formally chosen as leader, if he will be able to shape himself into a good one out of sheer force of will.
Your efforts will never betray you.
Seonghwa says this a lot, usually to himself, but also sometimes to the other trainees when he’s comforting them, and Hongjoong thinks that if he is the strict father figure of this group, then Seonghwa is the warm and loving mother figure. With his gentle nature and soothing voice, Seonghwa is usually the one having to console the kids after Pok-Joong scolds them.
Thinking of Seonghwa has Hongjoong turning his head to look at said boy. He is curled up at the end of the couch where he had dozed off while valiantly attempting to convince Hongjoong to go to bed. Seonghwa’s dark, silky hair falls across his forehead, long enough to tickle his eyelashes, and his full lips are parted delicately in sleep. He looks serene, and Hongjoong can’t help but to stare.
Seonghwa had arrived with winter’s first snow, soft spoken and beautiful and everything Hongjoong could have ever wanted.
And way out of his league.
Which, honestly, is for the best. Knowing that he has no chance with the older boy makes Hongjoong’s one-sided crush much easier to manage, because what’s the point in worrying about something that’s never going to happen anyway? Hongjoong keeps a reasonable emotional distance between himself and Seonghwa and the full extent of his admiration remains private. It works. Usually.
Sometimes, the walls can be difficult to keep up. Seonghwa is just so unreasonably magnetic to Hongjoong. Like a moth to a flame, Hongjoong is drawn to Seonghwa’s… well, everything. All Seonghwa has to do is speak with that low and calming voice of his or just smile that endearingly awkward grin, and Hongjoong is completely captivated. Really, just Seonghwa existing catches Hongjoong’s attention. It’s a bit ridiculous. Hongjoong is working on it.
Seonghwa’s eyelashes begin to flutter and Hongjoong marvels at how he manages to be attractive even as he wakes from sleep. Hongjoong gets a glimpse of those dark, sparkling eyes before he has the good sense to turn away lest he get caught staring.
From his peripheral, Hongjoong sees Seonghwa sit up and stretch, and he thanks his lucky stars that he isn’t having to fully witness that innocently seductive display. However, nothing could save Hongjoong from the deep groan that escapes Seonghwa as he arches his back and unfolds his long, golden limbs. The sound of Seonghwa’s groan hits Hongjoong like a punch to the gut.
“Hongjoong? What time is it?” Seonghwa’s voice is deeper than usual and rough with sleep, and Hongjoong can’t breathe.
“Late,” Hongjoong barely manages to squeak, because he has just been attacked. He forces himself to continue, but he sounds strangled. “Or early, depending on how you want to look at it.”
Get yourself together, Kim Hongjoong!
Hongjoong is still screaming on the inside as he shuts his laptop and places it on the table by the couch, giving himself the opportunity to take a deep, steadying breath. He stays seated at the edge of the couch cushion and rests his forearms on his knees. “You should go to bed.”
Hongjoong mentally congratulates himself on not sounding like a dying animal that time.
“That’s what I was trying to get you to do.” Hongjoong can hear the frown in Seonghwa’s voice. “What’s wrong? Are you nervous about the meeting?”
How Seonghwa manages to detect Hongjoong’s worries concerning that matter but somehow remain oblivious to Hongjoong’s embarrassingly obvious feelings, Hongjoong has no idea, but he counts his blessings. He scrounges up enough courage to finally meet Seonghwa’s gaze and admits sheepishly, “I’m just wondering who the kids are going to choose to be leader.”
“What are you talking about? You’re our leader.” Seonghwa looks confused and beautifully disheveled, and Hongjoong is hopelessly endeared.
“Not officially,” Hongjoong says and squeezes his threaded fingers together. “Tomorrow the company staff is going to ask, and we’ll all get to voice our opinions on it. It might be decided to have someone else lead the team.”
“Like who?”
“Like you.”
Seonghwa blinks. “What?”
Hongjoong shrugs. “Everyone might decide they would prefer you as leader. You are the oldest.”
“We’re the same age.”
“You’re still technically the oldest.”
“Hongjoong, you are our leader.” Seonghwa says this with such intensity that Hongjoong’s back straightens from where he has been hunched over. He can tell that Seonghwa isn’t just saying that to placate Hongjoong’s ego. He means it. Hongjoong can probably count on one hand the number of times he’s heard Seonghwa speak with such conviction. “You always have been and you always will be.”
“But the kids…”
“Feel the same.” Seonghwa says with finality. Then his hardened gaze softens and he reaches out. Hongjoong burns where the palm of Seonghwa’s hand rests gently against his arm, but he’s too enraptured by the sincere expression painting Seonghwa’s features to pull away. “Whatever worries are troubling you right now, let me ease at least this one. We want you to continue leading us. There is no other option to even consider. All of this… there’s no point to it if you’re not our leader. The group might as well not even exist.”
“Seonghwa…”
“I mean it, Hongjoong, and I will be vocal about it tomorrow if necessary.”
This.
This is why the walls are so difficult to keep up.
It’s like Seonghwa takes every chance he can to tear them down. Every tender touch, every heartfelt word, every sweet smile sends another emotional wall crumbling and Hongjoong scrambling to reassemble the pieces.
Every muscle in Hongjoong’s body tenses as he suppresses the sudden and nearly uncontrollable urge to grab Seonghwa’s handsome face between his hands and kiss him senseless—to feel soft skin beneath his fingertips and meld their lips together until Seonghwa is as breathless as Hongjoong feels in that moment.
Hongjoong’s gaze is zeroed in on Seonghwa’s mouth and, ok, sure, there had been moments up until this point where Hongjoong had maybe looked at Seonghwa’s perfect lips and wondered what it might be like to kiss them, but this? This desperate need to hold Seonghwa and devour him whole? This is new. And slightly terrifying.
Seonghwa must sense the change—probably feels the muscles in Hongjoong’s arm tense beneath his touch—because he pulls away, and worry laces his voice when he calls his name. “Hongjoong?”
Hongjoong jumps from the couch, frantically tearing his eyes away from the temptation of Seonghwa’s mouth.
Bad. Bad. Bad. This is bad. Abort. Abort.
“We should go to bed. Sleep! We should sleep. Like you said.” Hongjoong laughs awkwardly, already making a beeline for his and Seonghwa’s bedroom.
“O-okay.” Seonghwa sounds a bit baffled, but he doesn’t call Hongjoong out on his blatant evasion or bizarre behavior. Instead, he folds the blanket on the couch before turning off the lights and following Hongjoong to bed.
Hongjoong is once again reminded of how grateful he is for Seonghwa’s thoughtfulness and tact.
As they get settled in their bunks for a few more hours of sleep, Hongjoong wills his heart rate to a more moderate pace. Unintentional seduction aside, Seonghwa had actually managed to make Hongjoong feel much better about the meeting tomorrow. Seonghwa’s unwavering faith in him gave Hongjoong a new sense of confidence. Whether or not he will be placed as the official leader of their team, Hongjoong is still not certain, but… if Seonghwa feels so strongly about Hongjoong’s ability to lead them, then Hongjoong can’t help but think that he must be doing something right. And that maybe if he is chosen as leader, then maybe he can continue on that path, and everything will be okay.
Well, mostly everything.
Hongjoong is going to have to find a way to reinforce his emotional walls before he does something stupid.
Like kiss Park Seonghwa.
2
Despite Hongjoong’s best efforts to keep Seonghwa at arm's length, Seonghwa somehow manages to stake his claim as Hongjoong’s best friend.
Which adds a whole new layer of wrong to Hongjoong’s not-so-platonic affections for the boy, but whatever, it’s fine.
Hongjoong can compartmentalize.
His inconvenient crush on Seonghwa gets neatly packed away and pushed to the very back of his mind, and everything is all well and good. Life goes on.
Him and the other boys make their debut as Ateez, and it goes better than Hongjoong could have ever dreamed. They have fans—enough fans to justify a world tour less than five months after their debut. Their growing popularity keeps them busy filming for interviews and variety shows, and it’s all part of the job, but sometimes the prompts hit a little too close to home. In regards to Seonghwa, Hongjoong has to learn to toe the line between fan service and reality.
The fans like to see affection between the members, and Hongjoong is fine with that. He can spare the kids an extra hug or kind word here and there in front of the camera to keep fans satisfied.
With Seonghwa, it’s not quite so easy.
To compliment Seonghwa is to jiggle the lock on the box that Hongjoong has so painstakingly packed those dangerous feelings away in. To wrap his arms around Seonghwa is to take a hammer to it.
Hongjoong can’t risk the damage.
Instead, he hides behind his Pok-Joong persona. It’s obviously a front, but the fans love it for that reason, and the members—most importantly, Seonghwa—think it’s funny, so it works. Hongjoong can pretend he’s totally disgusted by the mere thought of Seonghwa’s affection, the fans know it’s not true, Seonghwa knows it’s not true, but none of them know how truly not true it is.
It’s not easy, concealing the depth of his feelings from the person who has come to know him best. Honestly, it would have been easier to keep the emotional distance that he had originally strived for, but it’s worth the trouble, because Seonghwa is the best best friend Hongjoong could ever hope to have.
Seonghwa supports and encourages Hongjoong in everything he does, both as an individual and as a leader.
As Captain of Ateez, Seonghwa is Hongjoong’s right hand—or the parrot on his shoulder, as the kids once jokingly dubbed him. Seonghwa is a pillar of support. He stands by Hongjoong’s every decision, even the decisions he doesn’t necessarily agree with. If Seonghwa thinks differently than Hongjoong, he never questions him in front of the members. He waits until they’re in the privacy of their shared room to discuss the topic.
As Kim Hongjoong, Seonghwa is a kind and caring friend, always looking out for Hongjoong’s well being. Seonghwa makes a habit of checking with Hongjoong at least once a day to make sure he’s eaten, and he encourages Hongjoong to rest. Sometimes that means dragging Hongjoong home from the studio before midnight to get a full night of sleep in an actual bed. Other times it means pulling Hongjoong’s head to rest against his shoulder for quick naps in the car as they go about their busy schedules. Those times are admittedly Hongjoong’s favorite.
Hongjoong is certain that there is no other person in the world that could be as perfect a partner for him in this life than Park Seonghwa, and he is so grateful that fate brought them together. He even writes a song about how grateful he is for Seonghwa, though he has yet to share that piece of information with Seonghwa or anyone else. Hongjoong is not prepared to suffer through the amount of teasing he knows he’ll get.
Though, it surely couldn’t be any worse than the teasing he is receiving right now.
“I think that might have been the most awkward V Live in existence. My body line? When you see me without clothes? Really, Hongjoong?”
“Shut up! I couldn’t think of anything else on the spot like that.”
Seonghwa’s only response is to level Hongjoong with a deadpan stare, and damn it, okay. Hongjoong knows. He could have said literally anything else.
It’s just that when Hongjoong was suddenly asked to compliment Seonghwa, what he was actually thinking at that moment was Seonghwa’s beautiful round eyes that hold an entire universe of stars and Seonghwa’s gorgeous lips, cherry red, I wonder if they’re as soft as they look, and in his panic to tear his mind away from that train of thought, Hongjoong somehow managed to incriminate himself even worse.
“Sorry,” Hongjoong finally says, defeated. “I know I made it awkward.”
Hongjoong hopes that he hasn’t made Seonghwa uncomfortable with his blunder—he hopes that he hasn’t revealed too much—but Seonghwa just chuckles.
“It’s fine, Joong. I was just teasing you. It was funny.” Seonghwa’s smile is mischievous, and Hongjoong knows the next words out of his mouth are going to cause further embarrassment. “I’m flattered that you think I have a nice body even though I don’t have muscles like Sannie.”
Hongjoong groans and falls back onto the hotel bed, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”
“Probably not. Definitely not if the kids find out.” Hongjoong can hear the grin in Seonghwa’s voice, and he can’t stop himself from shifting his hands away from his eyes and into his hair in order to catch a glimpse. Seonghwa’s smiles are beautiful.
But instead of Seonghwa’s smile, Hongjoong sees the smooth, golden expanse of Seonghwa’s stomach.
What the fuck.
Hongjoong’s breath catches in his throat.
Seonghwa is standing there with his shirt pulled up to his chest, chin tucked in and looking down at his lean torso. “I do wish my body held muscle a little better. It’d be nice to have abs to show off.”
Sure, it’d be nice if it wasn’t a detriment to Hongjoong’s health.
“You don’t need abs. You’re already hot enough as you are.”
Seonghwa flushes a lovely shade of red and drops his shirt before Hongjoong’s brain finally manages to catch up with his mouth. Hongjoong feels heat crawl up his neck and spread across his cheeks, and he knows he must be at least as red as Seonghwa at that moment. Their eyes meet, and Hongjoong can’t look away. He’s ruined by his own words, sinking into embarrassment, and Seonghwa’s bright eyes are all that’s keeping him afloat.
“Uhm, thank you,” Seonghwa mumbles softly, rosy cheeks glowing in the low lamplight, and still that captivating gaze.
Hongjoong is spellbound.
He wants to hide away, or better yet, go back in time and keep himself from ever opening his mouth in the first place, but Seonghwa’s unwavering gaze holds him steady.
Seonghwa always keeps Hongjoong steady.
His support.
His comfort.
His best friend.
Hongjoong wants to kiss him.
Park Seonghwa is everything good and wonderful in this world, and he’s standing right there, flushed and gorgeous and perfect, and wow, Hongjoong wants to kiss him.
Hongjoong pushes himself up from the bed and Seonghwa takes a step forward as if to meet him. “Hwa-”
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Jongho’s tired sounding voice calls desperately through the hotel door. “Hyung! Please tell Wooyoung to go to his own room. He’s bored and came to annoy San, but somehow I’m the one who’s suffering.”
Hongjoong releases a heavy breath, and Seonghwa chuckles as he takes a step back to give Hongjoong space to get up and get to the door. Hongjoong narrows his eyes at Seonghwa’s retreat. “How do you know he’s not asking you?”
“Because they’re your kids when they’re misbehaving.” Seonghwa smirks at Hongjoong and grabs his toiletry bag before heading to the bathroom for a shower.
Hongjoong rolls his eyes at Seonghwa’s back and goes to open the door for Jongho, his coincidental savior. If not for him and WooSan, Hongjoong might have…
No. No. No.
Hongjoong pushes that thought to the back of his mind and locks it away with the others, where he hopes it’ll stay buried for a very long time.
Forever, preferably.
3
Seonghwa resolves to get abs for their Inception comeback.
Hongjoong avoids the dorm.
Their schedules keep them busy most hours of the day, and Hongjoong, being the well-established workaholic that he is, surprises no one when he starts spending every moment of his very limited free time in his studio, including his nights. He buys a new, more comfortable couch to sleep on, a mini fridge for food and drinks, and he keeps multiple changes of clothes in a tote under the couch. Even more so than before, his studio becomes his dwelling place. The members don’t even blink now when they arrive at the company in the mornings to find Hongjoong already doing stretches in the practice room.
The staff call Hongjoong dedicated, and he is, but he also has an ulterior motive—the preservation of his sanity. Because there is nothing quite as threatening to the sanctity of said sanity as arriving home to find a shirtless and sweat soaked Seonghwa doing sit ups on their bedroom floor.
Ironically, the person who is the cause of Hongjoong’s increased absence from the dorm is also the only person to try to rectify it, as Seonghwa never misses an opportunity to encourage Hongjoong to come home.
It is also ironic that the only reason Hongjoong can get away with being so removed from the group’s dorm life is because of Seonghwa. He does such a good job of taking care of the younger members' needs at home, that Hongjoong’s presence isn’t really necessary. By helping shoulder the responsibilities of leader, Seonghwa inadvertently facilitates Hongjoong’s deliberate avoidance of him.
Hongjoong feels guilty about it, but not enough to return to the dorm and risk seeing that again.
So, here he is, spending another night holed up in his studio after a long day of practice.
Hongjoong is working on a mix that he’s beginning to feel pretty good about when he hears his studio door click open. It startles him and makes him jolt even as Seonghwa’s familiar face peeks around the door.
“Sorry,” Seonghwa says when he sees Hongjoong’s wide eyes. “I knocked, but you didn’t answer.”
Hongjoong barely manages to quell his rising panic by reminding himself that the chances of Seonghwa ripping off his shirt and doing sit ups in the middle of Hongjoong’s studio floor are less than zero. Probably. Hopefully.
“Ah, it’s okay. Come in.”
Seonghwa steps in, still dressed in his practice clothes and holding a brown paper bag that smells an awful lot like…
“Is that fried chicken?”
Seonghwa smiles and holds up the bag to shake it teasingly. “And if it is?”
Hongjoong spins in his office chair to face his surprise guest. Suspicious, Hongjoong crosses his arms and narrows his eyes. “Then I’m going to ask what the occasion is.”
“No occasion,” Seonghwa says with a shrug. He carefully clears a space on Hongjoong’s desk and sets the bag down.
Hongjoong arches an eyebrow. “Then what’s the catch?”
Seonghwa laughs as he flops himself onto Hongjoong’s couch and melts into the cushions. “Just eat, Joong,” he says.
Being suddenly presented with food, Hongjoong realizes that he is starving. He hasn’t eaten anything since the protein bar he had for lunch, and he doesn’t waste anymore time before digging into the paper bag.
Hongjoong can’t even begin to fathom why in the world Seonghwa has surprised him with such a gift. His birthday was months ago, and he certainly hasn’t done anything recently for Seonghwa to be repaying him for. Even so, Hongjoong isn’t complaining. He loves fried chicken.
He’s halfway through his second piece before he even thinks to share. Hongjoong grabs a chicken thigh and waves it towards the boy still slumped on his couch. “Come on, Hwa. Get your fill before I eat it all.”
Seonghwa just grunts at him. His head is leaned back against the cushion, his eyes closed and his long neck on display. Hongjoong stares. “I’m fine. It’s all for you.” Hongjoong’s eyes follow the bob of Seonghwa’s Adam's apple as he speaks and trace the sharp edges of his jaw.
Thoroughly distracted, it takes Hongjoong a moment to process Seonghwa’s words and continue the conversation. “Oh.” The hand holding the chicken thigh falls at the rejection. “Have you already eaten?”
Seonghwa hums, but still remains motionless. “No, not yet. I went with San and Wooyoung to the gym after practice, and it was so late when we left that I had to hurry to get the chicken before the restaurant closed.”
Hongjoong frowns, and for the first time in weeks, he allows himself to really look at Seonghwa. What Hongjoong sees breaks his heart.
Seonghwa looks exhausted.
Dark bruises have settled beneath Seonghwa’s eyes, indicative of sleepless nights, and his intense regimen has trimmed him down to the thinnest Hongjoong has ever seen him. The beautiful golden skin along Seonghwa’s arms and neck is red and irritated—a condition that Hongjoong knows usually only flares up when Seonghwa is under great stress.
Hongjoong feels like a failure. When did he become so careless? How could he have let this happen? Hongjoong had been so focused on himself, so consumed by fear of his desire, that he had stood by blindly while his best friend diminished right before his eyes.
Seonghwa raises his head at Hongjoong’s extended silence and graces him with a weary smile. Hongjoong is overcome with tenderness.
“Have just a bite.” Hongjoong tries to tempt him, but Seonghwa’s resolve holds strong.
“I can’t, Joong.” Seonghwa sounds even more disappointed than Hongjoong feels. “I have some vegetables at the dorm that I’ll eat when I get home.”
Hongjoong scrunches his nose, repulsed by the thought of a meal exclusively consisting of vegetables. “Gross.”
Seonghwa laughs at Hongjoong’s blatant distaste, and Hongjoong smiles at him in return.
For a moment, they just gaze at one another, relishing in the other’s presence. Hongjoong hasn’t spent time like this with Seonghwa in weeks, months even. He has been hell-bent on avoiding Seonghwa as much as possible, afraid of what he might do if confronted again with the object of his desire half-naked, glistening with sweat and panting from exertion. Facing Seonghwa now, though, Hongjoong regrets ever looking away.
Pensive, Hongjoong asks the question that Seonghwa had dodged earlier. “Seonghwa, why did you do this?” He gestures to the chicken with the thigh he is still holding before dropping it back into the bag.
There is a pregnant pause as Seonghwa holds Hongjoong’s gaze, his eyes searching. For what, Hongjoong has no idea, but eventually Seonghwa finally speaks. His answer is soft, nearly a whisper. “Because I missed you.”
For the second time in as many minutes, Hongjoong’s heart breaks.
Sweet Seonghwa, who, despite obviously being burdened with his own troubles, still goes out of his way to care for Hongjoong. Selfless Seonghwa, who brought Hongjoong one of his favorite foods for no other reason than to spend time with him, having no idea that Hongjoong’s absence has been deliberate.
Hongjoong doesn’t waste another second. He is immediately out of his chair, saving his work files and gathering his belongings.
“Let’s go home.”
Seonghwa sits up, his round eyes wide. “What? Hongjoong, I wasn’t trying to guilt you or anything.”
“I know that,” Hongjoong tries to reassure him as he packs up the leftover chicken, but Seonghwa’s brows are knit with contrite.
“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa says, and he sounds truly remorseful. “I promise I wasn’t going to try to drag you home tonight. I just wanted an excuse to spend time with you.”
Hongjoong stops what he is doing and turns to fully face Seonghwa, who is looking up at Hongjoong with tired and guilt-ridden eyes.
Hongjoong hates it.
Seonghwa has nothing to feel guilty for.
Hongjoong, on the other hand, has everything to feel guilty for.
“You have no reason to be sorry, Hwa. If anything, I’m the one who is sorry for making you feel that way. I’m sorry I haven’t been around recently.”
“You’ve been busy,” Seonghwa mumbles, and there’s something in the way he wilts, his eyes downcast and shoulders drooping, that Hongjoong realizes… He knows. Seonghwa knows that Hongjoong has been avoiding him. And even so, even though he must be hurt by it, Seonghwa is providing Hongjoong with an out.
Hongjoong is filled with shame.
“...Yeah.” The word feels heavy on his tongue. Seonghwa obviously knows it’s a lie, but he is kind enough to give Hongjoong the excuse, and he doesn’t interrogate Hongjoong for the real reason.
Seonghwa is so good, so compassionate and unselfish. Hongjoong knows he doesn’t deserve him, not as a best friend or a partner or anything else he might dream of.
It’s frustrating. Hongjoong can’t change what he’s done, but he can do better.
“But I’m tired tonight. I want to go home and sleep in a bed,” Hongjoong says lightly.
Hongjoong is glad when Seonghwa plays along with his attempt to lift the mood. “I don’t know, Joong,” Seonghwa says, spreading his hands across the plush couch cushions. “This couch might actually be comfier than a bed.”
“Maybe, but it’s not the same.”
Seonghwa peers at Hongjoong from beneath his lashes, and Hongjoong suspects he is trying to gauge the honesty of his words. “Okay,” Seonghwa says after a moment, satisfied that Hongjoong is genuine. “Let’s go home.”
Hongjoong calls one of their managers to pick them up and drive them home, and when they get to the dorm, the kids are already settled in their rooms for the night.
Hongjoong hangs out with Seonghwa in the kitchen while he eats his vegetable dinner. It’s a pitiful plate, and Hongjoong makes Seonghwa promise to eat tteokbokki with him as soon as promotions are over. Seonghwa agrees happily.
After dinner, Hongjoong showers first, and he’s dead on his feet when he trudges into their bedroom. He decides it’s too much effort to climb into his top bunk, and instead, he flops himself onto Seonghwa’s bottom bunk.
Above the headboard, Seonghwa has pictures pinned to the wall. Most of them are of Hongjoong. He should have known that Seonghwa wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to put pictures of Hongjoong up in their room so that he would feel less lonely.
Hongjoong lays with his face buried in the blankets, engulfed by soft linens and Seonghwa’s familiar scent, and he dozes. He’s vaguely aware when Seonghwa joins him, but is too out of it to contemplate the fact that rather than shove Hongjoong out of his bed, Seonghwa wraps his arms around Hongjoong’s waist and pulls the blanket up to cover them both.
It’s only later, when Hongjoong is lulled into wakefulness by the tickle of Seonghwa’s soft breaths against his neck, that his brain finally processes their position.
Seonghwa has Hongjoong cocooned in his embrace.
His arms are still around Hongjoong's waist, though they have fallen limp with sleep, and one of his legs is wedged between Hongjoong’s own, his foot hooked around Hongjoong’s calf. Seonghwa’s face is buried in Hongjoong’s hair, and Hongjoong can feel the rise and fall of his chest against his back, each even breath ruffling his hair and tickling his neck.
A shiver runs down Hongjoong’s spine as another warm breath whispers against the back of his neck, and suddenly, Hongjoong is very awake.
He extricates himself from Seonghwa’s embrace, but he doesn’t go far. Instead, he turns so he is facing Seonghwa and props his head on his hand so that he can admire his still-sleeping friend while his palpitating heart finds its rhythm again.
Seonghwa really is so beautiful.
The moonlight peaking through their window cuts a path across the elegant planes of Seonghwa’s face, setting his mussed, gray-dyed hair aglow and highlighting his high cheekbones.
Hongjoong wants to trace his lips along each curve and contour.
But most of all…
In the safety of their dorm room, away from cameras and curious eyes, with Seonghwa resting peaceful and unaware, Hongjoong allows his gaze to linger and his thoughts to wander.
He imagines what it would be like to kiss Seonghwa. Would his lips be as petal soft as they look? Would they be coated with a shiny layer of lip balm as they are right now? Would Seonghwa press his lips against Hongjoong’s gently, or would he kiss passionately, his perfect white teeth nipping at Hongjoong’s lips before being soothed by his tongue? What would it feel like to have Seonghwa’s warm breath fan across his lips with words of love rather than the back of his neck in sleep?
Hongjoong knows that he will never have the answers to any of those questions.
Because Seonghwa is too good for him.
Hongjoong is even more sure of that now than he’s ever been.
But in this quiet moment, bathed in moonlight and with only the stars to witness his folly, Hongjoong allows himself to dream.
4
Hongjoong is screwed.
Absolutely, one hundred percent fucked.
Because this is supposed to be an act.
He is in no way, shape, or form supposed to actually be jealous.
It had all been neatly scripted out for them. San would mention about Seonghwa making new friends, Seonghwa would admit it was true, and Hongjoong, as the other half of Matz, would be jealous. It was supposed to be a juicy bit of fan service for this variety show they’re filming.
But as Hongjoong had listened to Seonghwa shyly refer to his new friends without any honorifics, indicating how close they truly were, Hongjoong felt real jealousy begin to clench around his heart.
So now Hongjoong is screwed, because he and Seonghwa are standing hand in hand, surrounded by cameras, their members, and dozens of staff, and Hongjoong is feeling real feelings that he absolutely should not be feeling.
Seonghwa must sense his panic, because he gives Hongjoong’s hands a comforting, subtle squeeze and then threads their fingers together. Seonghwa’s hands are bigger than Hongjoong’s, his fingers longer.
Hongjoong can’t look Seonghwa in the eye.
This is an act. This is an act. This is an act.
It is an act, but it also is not.
Because when Hongjoong is prompted to tell Seonghwa why he’s disappointed and Hongjoong asks the hosts if he can grab Seonghwa by his collar, he kind of means it. Because Hongjoong is jealous, and he wants to yank Seonghwa down and kiss him so hard that Seonghwa can’t even remember those other idol’s names.
It is an act, but it also is not.
Because Seonghwa’s gentle voice is sincere when he veers off script just enough to reassure Hongjoong of just whose compliments he cares about the most.
It is an act, but it also is not.
Because Hongjoong can’t disguise the way he reels at those heartfelt words.
It is an act, but it also is not.
Because there is truth in Seonghwa’s claim that Hongjoong doesn’t compliment him as openly as he does the other members, and it’s part of the script, but Hongjoong can’t stand the thought of this maybe being a real concern of Seonghwa’s.
It is an act, but it also is not.
Because Hongjoong is achingly honest when he admits that he compliments Seonghwa often, but is too embarrassed to say the words in public.
It is an act, but it also is not.
Because Hongjoong means every word when he finally makes himself look his best friend in the eye and tell Seonghwa that he is proud of him.
By the end of the segment, Hongjoong feels painfully exposed.
Seonghwa looks flustered, but he still gifts Hongjoong with a sweet, bashful smile before they take their seats to continue filming.
Hongjoong spends the rest of the show mentally berating himself for having the audacity to actually feel jealous over Seonghwa getting close to his new friends.
He has no right to feel possessive over a man that is not, and will not ever, be his.
Hongjoong thinks that he has done a fairly decent job of keeping his inner turmoil well hidden in front of the cameras, but Seonghwa pulls him aside after the filming is done. Hongjoong should have known that he couldn’t deceive Seonghwa’s perceptive eye.
“Are you okay?” Seonghwa asks quietly, his gaze brimming with concern.
The two of them are the last ones in the waiting room, the younger members having already gathered their things and followed their managers out to meet the vehicles.
“I’m fine,” Hongjoong says quickly, desperate to avoid this conversation.
Seonghwa frowns, unconvinced. “Was it the fan service segment? Did it make you uncomfortable? Did I make you uncomfortable?”
Hongjoong cringes at how accurately Seonghwa is able to pinpoint exactly when his mood shifted, but he shakes his head in denial. “It’s not like that, Seonghwa.”
“Okay,” Seonghwa says slowly. “Then what is it like?”
Hongjoong rolls his lips between his teeth. He is not about to admit to being a possessive lunatic to his best friend, no matter how tenderly Seonghwa tries to coax it out of him. Hongjoong all but begs Seonghwa to relent with his questioning. “It’s nothing, really. I just let something get to me that shouldn’t have. It’s stupid. Please don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”
Seonghwa is silent for a long moment, contemplating Hongjoong’s words, and Hongjoong holds his breath, praying that Seonghwa accepts his flimsy excuse and allows this conversation to end.
The first few buttons of Seonghwa’s shirt are undone, revealing a long stretch of golden skin from his neck to his chest, only interrupted by the thin loop of a black choker. Hongjoong focuses on the necklace to avoid being lured by Seonghwa’s searching gaze. Eventually, the bob of Seonghwa’s Adam’s apple breaks Hongjoong’s concentration.
“It’s okay to get jealous.”
Hongjoong’s breath escapes his lungs. “What?”
His gaze snaps to Seonghwa’s face immediately, and when it does, Seonghwa is the one looking away.
Hongjoong doesn’t know what to say. What can he say? He has been discerned so easily. Should he deny it? Is there any point in denying it to the man who knows him so unequivocally?
Seonghwa bites his lip, and it’s devastating. Hongjoong wants to pull that lip from between his teeth with his own, but that would be a bad idea. Such a bad idea.
Seonghwa seems to war with himself for a moment before he admits softly, “I get jealous too.”
This must be a dream.
Hongjoong must have fallen asleep in the waiting room after filming. It’s the only way that he can rationalize what is happening right now, because there is no way that Seonghwa…
“I get jealous when you hang out with Maddox-hyung and the other producers instead of coming home.” To spend time with me remains unspoken, but Hongjoong hears it all the same.
Seonghwa is jealous too? Jealous of the other people that Hongjoong spends time with? What does that mean? Does it mean the same for him as it does for Hongjoong?
Seonghwa locks eyes with Hongjoong, and his gaze is so open and genuine and…
And suddenly Hongjoong can believe the reality of this situation, because it is just like Seonghwa to see Hongjoong’s embarrassment and vulnerability and to offer up his own in reparation. Of course Seonghwa would expose his own feelings in an effort to find equal ground and give comfort.
Seonghwa is so good.
And he says that it’s okay for Hongjoong to feel jealous—that he feels the same way.
For the first time in all these years of yearning, Hongjoong feels something like hope begin to bloom in his chest.
“Seonghwa-”
The waiting room door slams open. “What the heck is keeping you two?”
Hongjoong nearly jumps out of his skin, and he’s pretty sure he hears Seonghwa curse.
Wooyoung stands in the doorway, glancing between the two of them, clearly confused. “Why do you guys look so freaked out?”
Seonghwa and Hongjoong both splutter, and it’s like blood in the water. A mischievous grin begins to curl at the corners of Wooyoung’s lips.
“Wow,” he teases, tapping his cheek with his finger coyly. “Seems like I walked in on something private. Are mom and dad having a moment after today’s marital spat?”
Seonghwa looks seconds away from melting into the floor and disappearing. Hongjoong, on the other hand, yanks his shoe from his foot and prepares to chuck it at Wooyoung’s head.
Wooyoung ducks behind the door and cackles. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding! No need for violence, hyung!”
“Talk to us like that again, and you’re dead, Jung Wooyoung!”
“I’ll warn the others to give you two some privacy!” His voice echoes from further down the hallway.
“Brat,” Hongjoong mutters. He heaves a sigh and bends over to put his shoe back on. He almost loses his balance, but Seonghwa catches his arm and keeps him steady.
They finish gathering their things silently, but before they enter the hallway, Hongjoong stops.
“Seonghwa,” he says, grabbing the man’s attention. “Thank you.” He says it like a secret.
Seonghwa still doesn’t speak, but his understanding smile holds a thousand words, tender and heartfelt.
And Hongjoong knows that he is screwed.
Absolutely, one hundred percent fucked.
5
Hongjoong is in love with Seonghwa.
This is not a new revelation to him, but it is the first time he has allowed himself to put such a consequential name to these feelings. Hongjoong has been very careful over the years to avoid that particular word.
Hongjoong’s feelings for Seonghwa had started as a simple crush—alarming, for sure, but trivial in the grand scheme of things. However, as time passed and those sentiments evolved, Hongjoong felt it was safest to let them remain unnamed.
Now, though…
Now, it would be an insult to call the place Seonghwa holds in Hongjoong’s heart anything less than what it is.
There is a very real possibility that Hongjoong is only allowing himself this moment of truth because he is currently on cloud nine. Above cloud nine, even.
Seonghwa had gotten Hongjoong a ring for his birthday.
“Do you really like it that much?” Seonghwa asks that night when he catches Hongjoong admiring the piece of jewelry on his finger. Again.
Hongjoong had spent a good portion of his birthday livestream earlier that day praising both Seonghwa and the gift, and Seonghwa had teasingly threatened to take it back, embarrassed by Hongjoong’s compliments. But how could Hongjoong be expected to contain his delight? Besides being beautiful and perfectly his style, it is a ring. From Seonghwa.
It is a happy coincidence that the ring fits best on Hongjoong’s ring finger, where a couple’s ring is traditionally worn.
Hongjoong is sitting at their kitchen table, still dressed in his work clothes because the kids had bombarded him as soon as he got back to the dorm. They had surprised him with a lopsided cake from the convenience store, trick candles that wouldn’t blow out, and loud, off key singing. It was a chaotic mess, but Hongjoong was touched.
“Yeah,” Hongjoong replies honestly, pulling his gaze away from the shining silver on his finger to watch Seonghwa shuffle around the kitchen.
The members, excluding Hongjoong, had played rock-paper-scissors to determine who would be left with clean up. Seonghwa lost.
Seonghwa looks cute as he piles dishes in the sink, dressed in his sweats and his pink hair askew. As amazing as Seonghwa looks when he is dressed up for performances and filming, this is how Hongjoong likes him best—simple and unpolished and still remarkably handsome. This is Hongjoong’s Seonghwa.
Hongjoong is in such a good mood, he decides to be nice and help with clean up. He removes his blazer and hangs it on the back of the chair he had been occupying, and he’s unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves as he slides up to the sink and bumps Seonghwa with his hip. “Move over,” he says.
Seonghwa stumbles and shoots Hongjoong an annoyed glare. “What are you doing?”
“Helping,” Hongjoong replies.
“What? No. It’s your birthday.”
“Yep. And since it’s my birthday, I get to do what I want. And what I want is to help you with the dishes.” Hongjoong rolls back the sleeves of his black button up shirt and pushes them above his elbows. He glances up when his statement is met with silence.
Seonghwa is gawking at him, eyes wide and darting between Hongjoong’s newly exposed forearms and his face. Hongjoong knows he’s not much of a housekeeper, but he’s almost offended by Seonghwa’s blatant awe.
Hongjoong raises an eyebrow. “This will probably never happen again,” Hongjoong warns him with a grin. “You should take advantage of this occasion while you can, Hwa.” Hongjoong chuckles, pleased with himself for being able to catch his friend off guard, and reaches into the sink to get started.
Before he can even touch the water, Seonghwa has his hand wrapped around Hongjoong’s wrist, pulling him away.
Hongjoong’s breath catches in his throat, and he stares up at Seonghwa with wide, startled eyes.
Seonghwa looks equally as stunned, as if he can’t believe his own action.
They’re close, nearly chest to chest.
What is happening?
Hongjoong’s gaze flickers across Seonghwa’s elegant features—dazed, searching. He thinks that he could probably count every star residing in Seonghwa’s round eyes at this distance.
Seonghwa parts his lips as if to speak, and they draw Hongjoong’s attention like a moth to a flame. Fuck, he could lean forward and…
We’re so close.
“Uhm.” Seonghwa clears his throat and loosens his grip on Hongjoong’s wrist, but he doesn’t let go. Hongjoong doesn’t pull away. “Ah, your, uh, ring…”
Seonghwa’s hand is like a brand on the bare skin of his arm, but Hongjoong revels in the burn.
Ring?
Seonghwa tries again, composing himself. “Sorry, I just- Your ring. The dishwater will damage it.”
Oh.
Seonghwa releases his hold and Hongjoong steps back. He immediately misses the warmth. “You should take care of it, since you like it so well…” Seonghwa trails off.
“Thanks,” Hongjoong chokes out. With shaking hands, he slips the ring from his finger and tucks it into his pants pocket.
Seonghwa’s cheeks are as pink as his hair. “Sorry,” he says again, turning back to the sink.
Hongjoong is still reeling, desperately trying to process what the fuck had just happened. Wasn’t that a bit of an over-reaction on Seonghwa’s part? To some dirty soap water? God, Hongjoong had almost kissed him…
Hongjoong hides his jumbled emotions behind a mask of amusement. “I didn’t know you could be so aggressive,” Hongjoong says. He hopes the teasing lilt will disguise the nervous pitch of his voice. He presses a hand to his chest, and he can feel the rapid thump thump thump of his heartbeat. “You made my heart flutter.”
Seonghwa’s flush deepens as he scoffs and tells Hongjoong to shut up. “You wash, I’ll rinse."
Hongjoong just goes along with him, still a bit shell-shocked. They work in silence, but every time Hongjoong sneaks a peak at Seonghwa, Seonghwa is already glancing at him from the corner of his eye. It’s unnerving.
Has Hongjoong been found out? Is this the end? Hongjoong is sure that it is. He had gotten too lax, been too obvious. Now Seonghwa knows that Hongjoong is hopelessly in love with him and is deciding the kindest way possible to let him down, because that’s just how Seonghwa is.
Hongjoong is sick with apprehension. He is sure he doesn’t want to know, but he asks anyways. “What is it? Why do you keep looking at me?”
Seonghwa hesitates. The plate in his hand is rinsed, but he continues to hold it under the running water. When he glances at Hongjoong again, his gaze lingers, roaming over Hongjoong’s face and hair and then down his body and back up before looking away again.
Hongjoong is so confused. Had Seonghwa just ogled him?
Seonghwa puts the plate on the drying rack. “You look handsome today.”
That is not at all the answer Hongjoong is expecting. “Huh?”
Seonghwa is flustered as he gestures at Hongjoong vaguely. “The black clothes and- and the slicked back hair. You look…” Seonghwa closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “You look nice.”
Hongjoong is absolutely stupefied.
Hongjoong is not a stranger to receiving compliments. He gives and receives words of praise on a daily basis from his members and strangers alike, but this… This is different.
It’s like Seonghwa is trying to give Hongjoong a heart attack.
“Are you- are you doing this on purpose?”
Seonghwa’s brow furrows with confusion. “Doing what on purpose?”
“Is this a mission? Are we being filmed right now?” It’s the only thing Hongjoong can think of to explain this bizarre evening.
“You think we’re being filmed?” Seonghwa seems to panic at the thought, scanning the kitchen for hidden cameras.
“What- No, I’m asking you.”
Seonghwa looks at Hongjoong, completely bewildered. “Why would you think we’re being filmed?”
“Because…” Because the only other explanation is impossible.
“Because I complimented you? Hongjoong, I compliment you all the time.”
Yeah, but not like this. Not in the privacy of their home, completely unprompted. Not on his appearance, after admiring him so openly. Not after holding Hongjoong so close. Not after gifting Hongjoong a ring for his birthday.
Hongjoong is on the precipice of something big. He can feel it. But rather than take the leap, he steps back.
“You’re being extra nice,” Hongjoong says, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes.
For a moment, Seonghwa looks like he might argue to defend the genuineness of his words. But Seonghwa has always been exceptionally attuned to Hongjoong’s mentality, and Hongjoong witnesses the exact moment Seonghwa recognizes Hongjoong’s sudden cynicism for what it is.
A retreat.
Hongjoong is not ready to face whatever this is.
Acceptance and a shadow of surrender passes through Seonghwa’s starlit gaze. He sighs. “Yeah, well, it is your birthday.”
Seonghwa is so, so good.
Hongjoong is impossibly in love with him.
Hongjoong is also a coward.
+1
“Wow. Seonghwa-hyung is really out to get his man today, huh?” Wooyoung says, turning his phone in San’s direction for him to see.
San takes a moment to squint at the screen before he responds with a high pitched and approving, “Okayyyy.”
Hongjoong is on the other side of the practice room, queuing up a new set of songs for the three of them to warm up to, but his eyes are on the two trouble makers. They had captured his attention the moment he heard Seonghwa’s name.
“What man?” Hongjoong asks. He mentally berates himself the moment it escapes his lips.
Hongjoong’s unbidden question gains him Wooyoung’s scrutiny. “Why, hyung? Are you jealous?” He looks delighted by the mere prospect of it.
Hongjoong huffs and rolls his eyes, far too accustomed to Wooyoung’s antics to be bated by him.
Wooyoung laughs gleefully. “They’re hopeless,” he says to San, wiping imaginary tears from his eyes.
Hongjoong frowns, able to recognize when he has become the butt of a joke. “What are you talking about?” he asks, irritated.
“I’m talking about you and Seonghwa being super obviously in love with each other, but not doing anything about it.”
San smacks Wooyoung’s shoulder.
Hongjoong cannot even begin to comprehend all of the implications of what he just heard, but somehow his mind latches on to one in particular. “Seonghwa… Seonghwa doesn’t think of me like that,” he says.
Both Wooyoung and San look at Hongjoong as if he is the one spouting nonsense. “Hyung, he gave you a ring for your birthday, and he asked you for a kiss for his,” Wooyoung says, exasperated. “He literally cannot be any more obvious.”
“A-a k-kiss?” What? When? Where? How? Hongjoong thinks he might be going into shock.
Wooyoung begins cackling again, but San gives Hongjoong a sympathetic smile. “Maybe you should check your Fan Cafe,” he says.
So Hongjoong does.
Then Hongjoong proceeds to spend the rest of his day obsessing over the fact that Park Seonghwa—his best friend, the man of his dreams—has expressed on a public forum that his birthday wish this year is to kiss Hongjoong.
“My friend, whatever you want to do, do it all!”
“Is a kiss possible?”
If anyone asks, Hongjoong is not okay.
It just… doesn’t make sense. Hongjoong has a million and one reasons for why he wants to kiss Seonghwa, but he can’t come up with a single one for why Seonghwa would want to kiss him.
The only possible reason that he can even imagine just… isn’t possible.
Because Seonghwa is everything good and wonderful in this world and Hongjoong is a grumpy, sleep-deprived, studio hermit. Kim Hongjoong can only dream about being good enough to garner the romantic interest of Park Seonghwa. Ergo, a kiss is impossible. So, so impossible.
But Seonghwa himself had made the request. Does that mean Seonghwa has been thinking about kissing Hongjoong? In the same way that Hongjoong has spent the last five years thinking about kissing him? Surely not. But at the very least, Seonghwa had considered it in that moment…
Hongjoong feels it again—that he is teetering on the edge of something momentous—and he finds that he is not nearly as afraid of falling as he is of the overwhelming desire to jump.
Hongjoong thinks that he might be reckless enough to take that leap, as long as Seonghwa is there to catch him.
That evening, Hongjoong finds Seonghwa in their bathroom, washing the day’s makeup from his face. His hair is pushed back with a thin black headband, and Hongjoong distracts himself by wondering if Yeosang is still borrowing the fluffy pink one with the cat ears. That one had been particularly cute on Seonghwa, especially when his hair had been a matching rosy shade. Now Seonghwa’s hair is dark and inky, and Hongjoong likes it just as well. Hongjoong likes Seonghwa anyhow.
Hongjoong leans against the doorframe, trying to appear casual despite his body being tight with tension, and waits until Seonghwa is drying his face to make himself known. “So…” Hongjoong begins.
Seonghwa jolts with a curse, and if Hongjoong wasn’t about to pass out from nerves, he would have smiled to hear the slip of satoori.
Seonghwa whips around and peers at Hongjoong from behind his towel with round, startled eyes.
Hongjoong gathers every ounce of his courage.
“A kiss, huh?”
Seonghwa drops the towel. The freshly scrubbed flush of his skin deepens to a bright red. “I’m so sorry,” he says in a rush. “I don’t know what I was thinking-”
Hongjoong doesn’t let him finish. “Did you mean it?”
It seems impossible for Seonghwa’s eyes to get any wider. “What?”
Hongjoong clenches his fists and pushes himself to continue. “About the kiss. Did you mean it when you asked for one?”
Because it could have been a joke. Seonghwa could have just been being playful, making an outlandish request that he thought he already knew the answer to just to tease Hongjoong.
There is a moment, then, that the world stands still—where everything around them falls away and it’s just Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa, and this is it. Fate itself is holding its breath, anticipating Seonghwa’s answer.
Seonghwa’s gaze is tentative and searching as it flits across Hongjoong’s face… But Seonghwa has always been the brave one.
“Yes.”
It is a delicate whisper that carries the weight of a battle cry.
It strengthens Hongjoong’s resolve.
“Then, okay.”
“Okay?” Seonghwa looks as if Hongjoong has just offered him every star in the sky. Eager, but unsure of the possibility of it. Hongjoong wants so badly for it to be possible. He’s never wanted anything more in his life, so…
So Hongjoong takes the leap.
“You can have a kiss.”
Seonghwa’s shock is palpable as Hongjoong shifts away from the doorframe. Despite his limbs being stiff with nerves, Hongjoong steels himself and moves closer. Closer, until their toes are almost touching. Seonghwa watches Hongjoong approach with disbelieving eyes.
Internally, Hongjoong is in a similar state of disbelief. Since when had he become so bold? He has been pining for Seonghwa for all these years, but never in his wildest dreams had Hongjoong imagined that he would ever find himself here, in this moment, twisting his fingers into the hem of Seonghwa’s t-shirt and gazing up at him imploringly.
Seonghwa holds Hongjoong’s gaze and leans forward slowly—carefully—a myriad of emotions dancing across his handsome face. Hongjoong doesn’t look away until Seonghwa blurs in his vision and Hongjoong can feel Seonghwa’s breath against his skin. Hongjoong’s eyelids flutter as Seonghwa drags the tip of his nose along Hongjoong’s cheekbone, unhurried and deliberate and so, so warm.
Seonghwa’s fingertips trace a path up Hongjoong’s arms, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. He rests his palms on Hongjoong’s shoulders, heavy and grounding. Hongjoong is rooted in this moment, overwhelmed by Seonghwa’s tenderness.
Seonghwa is so, so good.
When Hongjoong suddenly feels the gentle press of Seonghwa’s lips against the curve of his cheek, his mind goes completely blank.
Hongjoong has no idea how long the kiss lasts. He doesn’t even realize he’s stopped breathing until he’s gasping for breath.
Seonghwa parts his lips from Hongjoong’s cheek but still lingers close, tucking his face into the curve of Hongjoong’s neck. His hands trail back down Hongjoong’s arms and wrap loosely around his waist.
Hongjoong’s heart is racing. “Is that the kind of kiss you wanted?” Hongjoong asks quietly.
Seonghwa doesn’t respond right away. When he does, his voice is deep and muffled. “Not exactly,” he says. Hongjoong can feel Seonghwa’s lips brush against the skin of his neck as he speaks, and it sets him ablaze.
“Take what you want, Seonghwa.”
Seonghwa’s grip on Hongjoong’s waist tightens, and the sensation of it has Hongjoong stifling a gasp. Hongjoong wants Seonghwa to grip harder, tug him closer. Instead, Seonghwa pulls his face away from Hongjoong’s neck and backs away just enough to meet Hongjoong’s hooded eyes. The intensity of Seonghwa’s gaze has Hongjoong’s toes curling in anticipation.
“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says in that low tone of his that never fails to get Hongjoong’s heart racing—like he’s sharing a secret. “I’m in love with you.”
Hongjoong is falling from that precipice. Falling, falling so fast. Seonghwa is there, extending his hands, but Hongjoong can only stare, flabbergasted, unable to comprehend… “Why?”
Seonghwa looks puzzled and mildly offended by Hongjoong’s befuddlement. “What is there to not love about you, Kim Hongjoong?”
Hongjoong won’t be fooled, no matter how pretty the words. “Uhm, a hell of a lot more than there are things to love about me.”
Seonghwa’s lips press into a thin line, and his dark eyebrows furrow over his eyes. He is clearly unimpressed by Hongjoong’s rebuttal. Hongjoong is pretty sure that he even hears Seonghwa call him an idiot under his breath, but he doesn’t get a chance to retaliate before Seonghwa is clasping Hongjoong’s face between his palms. “Name it,” Seonghwa demands.
Hongjoong gulps at Seonghwa’s vehemence, suddenly feeling a little less confident about his lack of appealing traits. Even so, Hongjoong racks his brain for one of his many flaws. “My workaholic tendencies,” he starts.
Seonghwa does not hesitate. “I love that you’re hardworking.”
Hongjoong can feel the flush spreading across his cheeks. He clears his throat, flustered. “I’m messy and can’t take care of myself,” Hongjoong tries instead.
Seonghwa traces his thumb along Hongjoong’s cheekbone, slow and gentle. “I love taking care of you,” Seonghwa murmurs. His eyes shine with unfettered adoration, and Hongjoong melts.
God, he is so in love.
And, apparently, so is Seonghwa.
Seonghwa is in love with Hongjoong.
Somehow, this information doesn’t feel like a revelation.
It feels like something inevitable.
It feels like destiny.
For Hongjoong, it has only ever been Seonghwa.
For Seonghwa…
Hasn’t Seonghwa been loving Hongjoong since the very beginning? With unwavering faith in Hongjoong’s ability to lead their group. With unfailing support every step of the way. With unexpected studio visits and forgotten meals. With a warm embrace during the night. With soft spoken words of comfort. With a ring. With infinite patience, Seonghwa has been loving Hongjoong, and Hongjoong had been too blinded by his insecurities to see what was right in front of him.
Seonghwa has always been there, ready to catch Hongjoong with open arms.
“I made you wait,” Hongjoong whispers.
Seonghwa’s answering smile is soft—soft and tender and loving. Hongjoong has never seen anything so beautiful. “You’re worth the wait,” Seonghwa says. “I’ll wait longer if you ask me to.”
What a terrible idea.
Hongjoong’s fingers twist tighter into Seonghwa’s shirt. “No.” Hongjoong says. “No, I’m done waiting.”
Hongjoong yanks Seonghwa forward and kisses him.
Finally.
Seonghwa grunts at the sudden movement but falls into the kiss readily, head tilting and soft lips parting. Hongjoong licks into his mouth and groans at the slide of Seonghwa’s tongue against his own. Seonghwa tastes like toothpaste, but sweeter. So, so sweet.
Hongjoong wraps his arms around Seonghwa’s back and pulls him impossibly closer. Hongjoong wants every bit of Seonghwa he can get. Seonghwa responds in kind, wrapping one arm around Hongjoong’s waist, pulling their bodies flush, while his other hand slides to the back of Hongjoong's head. Seonghwa grips Hongjoong’s hair and tilts his head back, deepening their kiss, and holy fuck, that’s hot.
Hongjoong bites at Seonghwa’s bottom lip, eliciting a broken moan, and herds Seonghwa back until he is pressed against the bathroom sink.
Seonghwa breaks from the kiss to pant against Hongjoong’s wet lips, and while Hongjoong also tries to catch his breath, he takes a moment to admire Seonghwa through the haze of their passion.
Seonghwa looks absolutely wrecked. Perfect lips red and swollen, cheeks rosy, eyes hooded and dark. Hongjoong reaches up and threads his fingers through the ebony strands of Seonghwa’s hair, tugging the headband loose. His hair falls in messy, inky waves over his forehead, shadowing those sultry eyes.
Hongjoong is star struck. “Wow…” he breathes.
Seonghwa surges forward to lock their lips again, whipping them around so that Hongjoong is the one caged, pressed between the sink and Seonghwa’s warm body.
Hongjoong is burning, set alight by Seonghwa’s touch. Arousal blazes through his veins, and Hongjoong can hardly think. His muddled thoughts are reduced to a slew of expletives and Seonghwa Seonghwa Seonghwa.
Kissing Seonghwa isn’t anything like Hongjoong had imagined it to be.
It’s better.
So much better.
Seonghwa is intoxicating. Devastating. Hongjoong can barely breathe, but he doesn’t think that he wants to if it means he has to stop kissing Seonghwa. Seonghwa is everything to Hongjoong, and he has to know.
Surely he knows…
“Seonghwa, I love you.”
Seonghwa inhales sharply against Hongjoong’s lips.
“From the very beginning,” Hongjoong continues, desperate to make sure Seonghwa knows. “Everything. All of it. It’s always been you.”
Seonghwa buries his face in Hongjoong’s hair. “Say it again,” he begs, voice low and husky against Hongjoong’s ear.
Hongjoong’s heart skips a beat. He will tell Seonghwa as many times as he wishes to hear it. Every morning, every night, for the rest of their lives, Hongjoong will say those words. “I love you.”
Seonghwa sighs, content, and then he is sprinkling kisses across Hongjoong’s temples and eyes and cheeks and mouth. Hongjoong closes his eyes and scrunches his nose, but he can’t contain the grin that curls the corners of his lips.
Seonghwa is so good. So perfect.
Hongjoong wants to give him everything.
When Hongjoong's eyes flutter open to meet Seonghwa’s gaze, Seonghwa is looking at him as if Hongjoong is the one with galaxies residing in his eyes. “I love you too,” he says.
Hongjoong cradles Seonghwa’s jaw between his hands, delicate, as if he is holding the entire universe.
He is.
“I know,” Hongjoong breathes.
Then he pulls Seonghwa into a kiss, slow and tender and sweet.
Hongjoong knows that Seonghwa loves him.
It took him awhile to get there, but he knows it now.
That beautiful, soft spoken boy with snow speckled hair and star filled eyes had been Hongjoong’s to kiss all along.
Maybe a kiss wasn’t so impossible after all.