Chapter Text
“You know, hyung, it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to return to Seoul for Chuseok.”
Hongjoong’s eyebrow twitches.
“Oh?” He asks but it almost doesn’t matter because Wooyoung would keep speaking anyways.
“My mom misses your visits, and I miss you, I guess,” Wooyoung says, and he almost sounds distracted. There’s a thumping sound of bass coming from the phone. “It’s been so long since I last saw you.”
Hongjoong snorts, a mixture of a laugh and a scoff. Wooyoung never went on a phone call without whining.
His heart squeezes in his chest. He misses him too.
“Young-ah,” Hongjoong says, instead of the words that he almost let slip, like I miss you too or I love you, please don’t be sad. “I will come during the American Thanksgiving, it’s long enough that I can make it. It’s in November.”
A long-suffering sigh then, “Fine. You better make it up to me.”
“I will,” Hongjoong says, keeping it close like a promise. “I have to go, but eat well and sleep. It’s already so late for you.”
“Yes, appa,” Wooyoung replies, sarcastically, but Hongjoong hears the warmth in his tone.
Hongjoong taps his headphones twice, switches on his music, lowers his phone, and stuffs it into his pocket. The subway comes to a stop and Hongjoong steps out, following the crowd and up the stairs.
The sights of the city meet him but he keeps walking, determined and slightly haired. He’s going to be late if he doesn’t walk quickly.
The walk from the subway station to the office is about five minutes, and then another five to get to the floor he interns on. Thank fuck it’s a paid internship, or Hongjoong would starve. Bodegas can only go so far in life.
Hongjoong makes sure he clocks in, greets the office manager at her desk, and heads further into the office. People say hello or outright ignore him, which is typical. The atmosphere is calmer than usual, and it being a Friday helps, or doesn’t depend on the project.
Hongjoong knows that the project cycle of the department he works under doesn’t end for another week, so he’s only able to chill for a couple of days before it gets crazy.
But crazy is always relative.
He rounds the corner to where he works alongside the permanent company team. He’s part of the Styling Department, and it’s always a frenzy, even on the “calm” days.
His manager sees him first and her eyes widen and she stalks over to him.
“Hongjoong there you are! Let’s hop to it, the models are already here and they’re in makeup,” Marissa says, eyes wide. She motions for him to follow and keeps typing away on the phone as he follows her. Marissa is the head of wardrobe in their department. “Henry set out the clothes this morning, thank fuck, and Giselle managed to wrangle in the boots and jeans we needed.”
“No way,” Hongjoong says, lengthening his stride to keep up with Marissa’s long legs. She’s a good few inches taller than Hongjoong and he’s always chasing after her. “Taesung said it wouldn’t be done for the shoot.”
“Nope, we’re all good,” Marissa replied, pushing the double doors open into the styling room. “He finished the last-minute touches to fit the models. Now we dress them and make sure it’s all up to par. You and Haewon will be accompanying the models to the shoot today.”
Hongjoong nods and starts shuffling through the racks, making mental notes of the outfits they’d need to move down to the studios.
Haewon is another stylist on their team. Hongjoong couldn’t tell if she liked him or not when he first joined. It turned out that she was just a dry person in general and very funny. Hongjoong likes working alongside her.
It’s a whirlwind as Hongjoong and the other stylists grab the racks and wheel them down after triple checking them. It takes too many trips down the elevators before all the clothes are in the changing rooms of the studios.
By the time the shoot is done, the clothes are put away and the office is halfway closed, and Hongjoong is bone dead tired. It’s nearing ten pm, as Fridays are Hongjoong’s late days since he doesn’t show up at the company until early evening, usually when higher profile shoots happen.
He rubs the back of his neck, trying to relieve the tension that built up in the past few hours. The tension of running around with Haewon, making sure that the outfits were perfect, not a thread out of place, and keeping his distance from a certain high-profile model.
There are about five models working. Three of them are Korean, as Hongjoong is familiar with their work, and two are American, he’s less familiar but he knows them from random projects he’s done and their billboards in the city.
The last time that Hongjoong ran into Seonghwa specifically, Hongjoong had been a mess of nerves, awkward babbling, and a case of sweaty hands. Hongjoong did everything to not have to work near or on Park Seonghwa.
Hongjoong couldn’t even look the man in the eye. Therefore, how the fuck was he supposed to work directly on the model?
Hongjoong lets out a breath, gathering his bag from the corner where he stashed it before the shoot. It was easier to leave from the studios than the offices upstairs.
The head of wardrobe usually kept the models back after shoots to collect new measurements and had Hongjoong keep track of those measurements. So, he throws on his bag and leans against the wall, watching as Marissa gathers last-minute information. Hongjoong trails his eyes over the models, they don’t look much different than last time, appearance-wise. But modeling is cutthroat, so measuring is almost always done before and after every shoot. At least that’s what he observes with his company.
His eyes land on Seonghwa briefly, and his breath stutters as he lingers.
Seonghwa had dark hair the last time he’d seen him, which looked phenomenal. Hongjoong was sure that Seonghwa could pull off any color of hair and look just as beautiful. Now, his hair is dyed a light pink that compliments his olive skin tone. The makeup on his face compliments his round almond eyes, decorates his pretty cheekbones, and accentuates his plump lips. He even has a threader earring dangling prettily from his left ear.
Hongjoong is so fascinated, he can’t seem to look away.
Park Seonghwa is a vision and Hongjoong itches to draw him. The model’s body proportions are perfect for art. Wide-set shoulders that taper into a small waist and long legs that go for miles.
Seonghwa’s eyes meet Hongjoong’s. Hongjoong chokes on the air and looks away, his face burning at being caught staring.
Fuck.
Seonghwa’s intense stare throws Hongjoong off every time. He can never gauge the other’s feelings. Hongjoong was always too shy to approach the model. He didn’t have the guts to do so.
He fishes clumsily in his pocket for his cell phone and proceeds to scroll through the notifications that came through when he was working. He opens his KTalk app, going straight to his group chat with his friends, who all still live in Seoul.
The time difference is killer and Hongjoong misses them like crazy.
brats + hongjoong
woooyoo: u kno I hate the name of this chat.
hjoong: stop complaining. What do you want?
woooyoo: where’s @sangsang??? I need moral support
woooyoo: dad is bullying me
hjoong: I hate u
woooyoo: see?!?!
princess_mingki: I think @sangsang is busy. He said something about a rookie idol group visiting the studio
yuyu: blowing up my phone at this hour?
hjoong: it’s literally 11:00am @yuyu…
yuyu: some of us are working
hjoong: rude, i am working
princess_mingki: not if you’re texting rn
yuyu: thank you babe
princess_mingki: anything for you, yuyu
woooyoo: ewww the flirting make it stop
hjoong: lie in the bed you made, @woooyoo
hjoong: and @princess_mingki, aren’t u also working?
princess_mingki: what about it?
yuyu: awee are you stuck, honey?
princess_mingki: maybe… (╥╥)
yuyu: fighting! You got this!!
woooyoo: if Yeo is working, why are you replying, @yuyu
yuyu: Yeo is doing a great job on his own
hjoong: u left him to the wolves
yuyu: I left him to the wolves
woooyoo: as much as I love this RIVETING, conversation, I had a purpose here
princess_mingki: is the purpose to tell us about that new vocal coach that joined Kloud? princess_mingki: The one you were actively flirting with?
princess_mingki: I need new eyeballs after that display. So gross. Pls never in front of my salad ever again
woooyoo: u stole my moment of glory Mingi
princess_mingki: bite me
woooyoo: don’t tempt me
yuyu: if anyone is biting MY boyfriend, it’s ME. Back off @woooyoo or i’ll fight u
princess_mingki: uwu @yuyu thank u for fighting for my honor
Yuyu: anything for u babe
hjoong: @princess_mingki, that’s long gone bud
woooyoo: w/e. ANYWAYS, HIS NAME IS CHOI SAN AND HE’S SO BEAUTIFUL AND SINGS LIKE AN ANGEL OH MY GOD, WE’RE GOING TO GET FOOD AFTER WORK TODAY
sangsang: arent you moving a bit fast?
woooyoo: YEOSANG my bestie, welcome! And wtf, no?! It was a mutual agreement. No threats were made.
woooyoo: what do you take me for
hjoong: a menace
woooyoo: that’s your opinion hyung
sangsang: My opinion as well. Don’t scare away the new employees already. Some people do have to work for a living.
woooyoo: when?! When have I ever done that?
sangsang: Changbin
woooyoo: LIsten, he’s still my friend
sangsang: and you almost fucked that up
woooyoo: yah, I am so offended oh my god. Binnie left Kloud bc he wanted to be with Felix’s company, and they accepted him. How many times do I have to say this?! Do I need him to also say this?
Hongjoong grins, and pockets his phone, letting the conversation continue without him. He will read back and reply later. When he looks up, Seonghwa is there, standing a few feet away from him. He’s wearing clothes that he came to the studio wearing. Seonghwa is wearing a pair of light-wash jeans, a lightweight white sweater that shows all of the dips of his collarbones, chunky black loafers with white flowers on them, and a bag hanging from one of his shoulders. He’s still in full makeup and his pink hair is partly hanging in his face on one side and brushed away on the other.
“Hello,” Seonghwa says, his lips stretching into a smile. “Are you Hongjoong Kim?”
Oh, fuck. Hongjoong had never been directly addressed by Seonghwa, only passing pleasantries with him. Hongjoong didn’t even wonder if Seonghwa spoke English or Korean. That’s how fucked Hongjoong was because it really didn’t matter to him.
But Hongjoong didn’t ever expect to be singled out by the gorgeous man.
His English sounded deep, coming from his chest.
It did things to Hongjoong.
“Hi, yeah, that’s me,” Hongjoong replied, because he was a fucking simp. “Was there something you needed help with? I know that Marissa wanted measurements.”
“Oh, she did that already,” Seonghwa said, a small smile on his lips, his eyes tracing Hongjoong’s face.
Hongjoong feels self-conscious under Seonghwa’s keen gaze.
“Oh, okay,” Hongjoong says and chews the wall of his mouth. He hopes he doesn’t look stupid. After so many hours awake from his classes and then his internship, he’s ready to collapse unconscious. But he can’t because he’s not at home yet and now he’s standing, talking with the most beautiful man he’s ever laid his eyes on. Hongjoong pats down his self-reformed jacket, fidgeting under Seonghwa’s eyes. “How can I help you then, Seonghwa?”
“I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me and some others to get some drinks and food,” Seonghwa says, words sounding casual as he speaks. Hongjoong suppresses dropping his jaw open. “Haewon and Taesung already declined, but I thought I’d ask you as well. Carla and Hanna also couldn’t stay. There’s a place in the Garment District we want to try.”
If being swallowed up by the floor because Hongjoong is so surprised was a thing, he’d be a goner.
Fuckfuckfuckfuck.
Hongjoong is panicking, because a cute boy just asked him out.
Well, not alone, but it still stands. He was asked out and his brain fizzled in the process.
“Uh,” Hongjoong says smartly. Amusement flashes over Seonghwa’s expression as he observes him. “I think so.”
“You think so?” Seonghwa asks, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.
Oh, and he tilts his head so cutely.
Yeah, Hongjoong is fucked. Hongjoong clears his throat, his ears feel hot. He’s exhausted but he’s not going to give up a night with his crush.
Nope, he wasn’t one to let opportunities pass by.
“I need to check my schedule,” Hongjoong says because he doesn’t want to sound extremely lost. “I have to see if I have anything due tonight.”
“Ah, you’re a student?” Seonghwa tilts his head, looking more surprised than Hongjoong would’ve thought his reply would’ve caused.
Hongjoong pulls out his phone again, there are already so many messages from his friends, an email from Marissa, and other notifications. Hongjoong skips over all of that and opens his calendar.
Thankfully there aren’t any pressing deadlines.
“I am,” Hongjoong replies, looking back at Seonghwa, who has another smile on his face. “I’m a graduate student at the FIT, I’m one semester away from finishing my Fashion Design MFA.”
“Whoa.” Seonghwa’s eyes almost sparkle as he speaks. “That’s so cool,” he says. “You work and study?”
“Yeah. I’m actually an intern here,” Hongjoong stuffs his phone and hands into his pockets. The butterflies are still there, but they’re talking about something Hongjoong loves, so it’s not hard to have a conversation. “It finishes the same time I graduate from my program. And I’m good to go, sounds fun. I haven’t had a night out in a while. You caught me at a good time.”
“Lucky me,” Seonghwa adds, his eyes seeming to sparkle. “Let me formally introduce you to everyone else.”
Hongjoong’s stomach flips but he allows Seonghwa to loop his arms with him and drag him over to the other models that look ready to go. Marissa is nowhere to be found, but it goes like that. Her emails will serve as the information Hongjoong needs for later.
Hongjoong is introduced to the Korean models, as the other ones had already left. He learns they’re all currently signed with the company Hongjoong interns until the end of the year.
It’s why Seonghwa keeps having photoshoots and Hongjoong keeps seeing him. Good for business but not good for his heart.
“It’s great to officially meet you outside of work, Hongjoong,” Lia Choi grins almost impishly, it's endearing. She has a cute face and equally cute cheeks as she grins. Her hair is dark brown with blonde highlights in it intermittently. “You’re a really awesome stylist! We’ve all talked about how when you’re assigned to one of us, your outfits do the best in terms of attention.”
Hongjoong feels a blush spread over his cheeks, heating his face at her compliment.
“Oh my god, yes. The last time you styled me I got half a million likes on my post,” Yuna Shin leans forward and loops her arm through Lia’s. Yuna has stark blonde hair that is done up in cute space buns and long bangs falling down the sides of her face. Yuna and Lia are extremely popular in Korea and on Instagram, they have a massive following, separately and their fans love that they’re friends in real life, not just because they model together. “Thank you for your gracious artistry.”
“Ah,” Hongjoong chuckles, feeling awkward and struggling to come up with words. He scratches the back of his head and finally pieces his words together. “It’s something I enjoy. Thank you.”
“So modest,” Seonghwa says, and he clicks his tongue with a laugh. “You’re the reason my outfit a few weeks ago was sold out. The brand was ecstatic since their clothes are never chosen. You have a gift.”
Hongjoong waves a hand nonchalantly, opposite of what he actually feels. He’s partly embarrassed and ecstatic that Seonghwa complimented him so easily.
“Ah, cute,” Lia says, laughing as Hongjoong shuffles in place, but he doesn’t feel slighted at their attention.
“Okay, let’s go ahead and get some food?” Yuna asks, her eyes alight. “I am so hungry I could eat like five cows.”
Lia laughs and snorts as she clings onto Yuna, who laughs in return. It’s super cute to watch. Seonghwa smiles at the display and they make their way out of the building together. Hongjoong clocks out and joins the trio on the sidewalk outside of the building.
⇢
They make it to Koreatown, near the Garment District at almost eleven. The city is alive with early night timers grabbing food, groups of people hanging out, a few lost tourists skirting around, and an amalgamation of people walking to and fro.
New York City reminds Hongjoong of Seoul, with lots of people, busy restaurants, and noise all around. But the distinction is the unfamiliar air the city holds in comparison to home. Hongjoong doesn’t hold precious memories of these streets as he does back in Seoul, it’s not the same. He’s thankful for all the opportunities New York brought him, but Seoul is heavily calling his name. December couldn’t come quicker.
“Will you be going back to Seoul once your job is done?” Hongjoong asks, because why not.
“Yes,” Seonghwa responds with an easy nod. “I go back to Seoul in early January.”
The restaurant is packed as ever, but they grab a booth quite easily. Lia and Yuna disappear off to the restroom, and Seonghwa and Hongjoong dove into a conversation and began really getting to know one another.
Hongjoong learns that Seonghwa doesn’t normally take jobs super far from home, but this opportunity came and he couldn’t say no. His agency needed a male that spoke fluent English and he was the only one that did so. Lia and Yuna are also part of the same agency as Seonghwa, and they were sent together.
Hongjoong thinks that it’s nice that Seonghwa has colleagues that he already knows in a foreign country and Hongjoong tells him as much.
“Are you from New York?” Seonghwa asks as he sips his beer and they move along in conversation.
“Where do you think I’m from?” Hongjoong retorts, leaning on his elbow, and looking at Seonnghwa who looks especially good under the lowlights of the restaurant.
Seonghwa looks at him, his brows pulling in cute concentration.
“I’d think you’re from here,” He says after his eyes trace over Hongjoong deliberately. “Your English doesn’t have a discernable accent. And your style is very fashion-forward, grunge maybe? Did you make what you’re wearing?”
Hongjoong sips some of his beer and grins. He flushes under Seonghwa’s heavy but interested gaze. Seonghwa noticed his outfit, which was one of his favorites. It’s a black jean jacket he found in a thrift shop tucked away in Chelsea and painted on. He found his black jeans in the upper west side, on sale in a consignment store, which he reformed with some bleach, white paint, and cut rips in it, making them look fashionable enough for work. He paired his outfit with a simple black shirt, a shit ton of his favorite necklaces, clear acetate glasses, his heavily used Doc Martens, and to top it off, he’d recently dyed his hair bleach blonde.
Hongjoong thinks he looks like a typical art student, with attitude.
“I’m flattered and thank you, I did reform what I’m wearing,” Hongjoong says with a grin. “But I was born in Anyang and moved to Seoul after finishing my military service. I went to university there, worked for half a year and now I’m here, finishing my masters in December. I’ll be going back to Seoul then.”
Seonghwa’s mouth forms a pretty o-shape.
“You speak Korean then?” he asks.
“Yeah, I do,” Hongjoong laughs lightly, covering his mouth. “You thought I was American?”
“I mean yeah, you speak perfect English, you replied to Hongjoong Kim, didn’t ask about age or anything of that sort,” Seonghwa says, leaning closer. Hongjoong huffs jokingly at the look on the model’s handsome face. “I fully assumed at that point that you wouldn’t speak Korean.”
Hongjoong laughs again, slapping the table a few times, feeling the butterflies fluttering in his stomach.
“Okay, let’s do this again,” Hongjoong replies at the miffed look on Seonghwa’s face. So cute. He switches to Korean, just to be a little shit. “How old are you, Seonghwa-ssi?”
Seonghwa’s eyes widen and the butterflies intensify at the endearing smile that stretches over the model’s lips.
“I was born in 1998,” he replies, also in Korean.
“Me too!” Hongjoong exclaims, placing a hand on Seonghwa’s. The model’s hand is warm to the touch. “Then we’re friends, and we have no need to call each other hyung or vice versa. I’m also not really for honorifics regardless.”
“I don’t know how I came to that conclusion, but I did,” Seonghwa replies, instantly lighting up. “Friends then, we can speak informally.”
“Oh, you speak Korean!” Lia exclaims, arriving at the table and speaking in Korean. She throws herself into the half-moon booth, and Yuna follows her. “How old are you, Hongjoong-ssi?”
“Seonghwa-ya’s age,” Hongjoong replies, smiling.
“Okay, is it okay if we call you oppa?” Yuna asks.
“Sure, of course,” Hongjoong says, not one for dashing someone else’s preference for respect.
Hongjoong doesn’t get to continue his and Seonghwa’s conversation as the night starts. As a group, they order food and drinks and fall into easy conversation. It isn’t long before they’re playing drinking games and a relaxed atmosphere falls over the table. Nearing one in the morning, the girls call an Uber and bid them goodbye, and exchange numbers with Hongjoong.
“They were really sweet,” Hongjoong says after he and Seonghwa paid their share for the meal and spill out into the city.
He has a pleasant buzz under his skin after the few soju shots he shared with Lia, Yuna, and Seonghwa.
“They are and they’re good company when I need friends around,” Seonghwa agrees, shuffling on the sidewalk near Hongjoong. “Do you live far from here?”
Hongjoong giggles, a bit influenced by the light and comfortable atmosphere between them and the light buzz of alcohol in his veins. He wants to be embarrassed but Seonghwa is looking at him so softly and the butterflies that erupted earlier in Hongjoong’s stomach hadn’t gone away.
He’s also a fucking lightweight and he’s sure he doesn’t have to share that fact with Seonghwa. It looks like the model already has an idea by the knowing smile that pulls at his face.
Wooyoung would’ve made so much fun of him. That thought sobers him some.
“I don’t, thank fuck,” Hongjoong replies, with a nod. “I live in Hell’s Kitchen.”
“Okay, good, that’s good,” Seonghwa says, catching Hongjoong by the elbow as Hongjoong slips on the sidewalk.
Hongjoong’s heart is hammering in his chest from the spike of adrenaline that shoots through him. Seonghwa’s touch is firm and warm. He straightens and bows a bit to Seonghwa.
“Sorry, thank you,” he says. “I’m not super in control of myself, right now.”
Worry simmers over Seonghwa’s face for a moment.
“Do you mind if I see you home?” Seonghwa asks, gentle with his words. “I’ll take an Uber from your place back to where I’m staying.”
⇢
Hongjoong did not say no and Seonghwa walked him straight to his door. By the time they reach his floor in his building, which thank fuck has an elevator, Hongjoong is mostly sober.
And mostly sober Hongjoong thinks, who the fuck let an almost stranger walk him to his door? Oh yeah, his dumbass.
Hongjoong, that’s who. A simp for a beautiful, outgoing model with sparkling eyes.
“This is me,” Hongjoong says, stopping in front of his door. “Thank you for inviting me out, I had fun.”
“I had fun as well. We should do this again sometime,” Seonghwa replies, his hands behind his back. “Do you mind if we exchange numbers?”
If he didn’t think Seonghwa was smooth, he does now. Hongjoong grins and they do just that. Hongjoong doesn’t want Seongha to leave, so he opens his dumbass mouth.
“Would you like to come in for a moment?” Hongjoong asks, motioning his thumb to his door.
Seonghwa pauses mid-step, eyes glancing over Hongjoong’s shoulder and then back to Hongjoong.
“Sure,” Seonghwa says after a pause, but there’s an ever-present smile on his face.
And that’s how Hongjoong finds himself in his apartment with Seonghwa, a small studio that’s spacious enough for his various projects that are strewn about his apartment.
Hongjoong unlaces his boots and toes them off, placing them on the shoe rack. Seonghwa follows suit, taking off his loafers with such grace that Hongjoong feels uncoordinated at the sight.
The studio is big enough that his bed has its own alcove, and he has a small but full kitchen, a bathroom, two different closets, and a living slash dining area. It’s quaint and small. And he’s pretty sure that he should be paying way more for it, but Hongjoong won’t complain, his landlady is nice enough that he won’t press his luck.
“Don’t mind my mess,” Hongjoong says, placing his bag near the sofa. “I have some projects that aren’t done.”
He has a small table with four chairs he found at IKEA, and it’s pushed up against the wall near his kitchen. There’s a pair of pants drying on the table and a mannequin with a half-finished piece of clothing. Some canvases rest against his small sofa and against some walls, pieces that he decided to paint in the middle of the night when he couldn’t sleep and inspiration hit him.
The walls are covered in art pieces he found in thrift stores and that he made himself. Hongjoong made it feel like home, even if it wasn’t really home. Before leaving for the States, he left all of his valuables with his parents. He dreads having to find another apartment, hunting in Seoul is another monster, vaguely similar to New York City.
“I know we don’t know each other very well, but holy shit,” Seonghwa says, walking around, almost timidly, eyes jumping from piece to piece that he can see. “Your place is exactly like you. I love it.”
Warmth travels down his spine at the praise. Like him, what the fuck? Hongjoong had no idea what that meant but Seonghwa’s tone was warm and it couldn’t mean something bad if he sounded so intrigued.
“I’m glad you like it,” Hongjoong replies, heading over to his kitchen. “Would you like a drink? I restocked yesterday.”
He’s glad he had the decency to stock his fridge, it had been running low for days, as he was busy with school and grabbed quick food wherever he could.
“Oh, I couldn’t impose,” Seonghwa says, he stood near the sofa, a hand on the back of it.
“I insist and please take a seat,” Hongjoong says, reaching for a soda. “Sugar-Free Soda okay?”
“Sounds good,” Seonghwa says and does that.
He sits so neatly on one end of Hongjoong’s sofa. Hongjoong grabs one for himself and joins Seonghwa on the sofa, handing him the can. Hongjoong sheds his jacket and drapes it over the back of his sofa, pulling his legs up onto the sofa.
“What got you into modeling, Seonghwa-ya?” Hongjoong asks.
They’ve fallen into a back and forth of Korean and English, mainly Korean because that’s what seems more comfortable for Seonghwa. It’s good for Hongjoong to practice because his mom was complaining that he was starting to have an accent when he spoke. She kept saying that companies wouldn’t like that he sounded so foreign.
“It’s something that I’ve always wanted to do,” Seonghwa says, dainty hands holding the soda can. He takes small sips every once in a while. “My parents were very supportive of me and took me to so many auditions. But none of them panned out. I started university but then I decided to enlist in the military. When I came back, I picked up small modeling jobs after finding an agency, started college again, finished, and went into modeling full-time. It’s been a few years now, but it’s been good.”
“I’m happy that worked out for you,” Hongjoong says, his lips pulling up. “Modeling is tough. Do you like it because it’s something you always have wanted to do or is it an art for you?”
“I’d say a bit of both,” Seonghwa says, a faraway expression filling his face before it’s gone. “I enjoy taking photos, finding my angles. Modeling is tough at times, the industry is very harsh. But I haven’t found something I enjoy more, so until that happens, I am very content with what I’m doing.”
It fills Hongjoong with unbridled warmth to hear someone talk about their passions. It starts in his chest and spreads outward and through all his extremities. There’s an air of serenity around Seonghwa and Hongjoong is thrilled at noticing that.
Hongjoong places his can on the coffee table and scoots closer to Seonghwa.
“That’s awesome, I’m happy to hear about your passions,” Hongjoong says, nodding a few times. “What do you like to do for fun?”
“I love this turn of events,” Seonghwa says, copying Hongjoong and placing his can on the coffee table. He also turns to face Hongjoong, sitting on one of his legs and half leaning on the pillows on the sofa. Hongjoong gives him a questioning look. “It’s like we’re playing twenty questions now.”
Hongjoong’s cheeks warm at his words.
“Sorry, I’m naturally curious,” Hongjoong says, playing with the rings on his finger. “If you’re ever uncomfortable, please let me know.”
“It’s fine, Hongjoong-ah, I’m enjoying your questions and our conversation,” Seonghwa says, giving Hongjoong such an open and genuine look, his face becomes warmer. “Besides, I agreed to come inside, so I’m adding to your hosting.”
Hongjoong laughs, throwing himself sideways as he does. He barely catches Seonghwa’s half-smile as he shuts his eyes for a second.
“Okay, okay,” Hongjoong says after righting himself. “Please ask me questions too, if you’d like.”
“I will,” Seonghwa affirms with a nod. “And I love watching movies, building Lego sets, and cooking, trying new recipes is fun. Sadly because of my work, I rarely am able to cook as much as I want to. How about you, Hongjoong-ah?”
Hongjoong leans forward, closer to Seonghwa’s space. Seonghwa doesn’t seem to mind as Hongjoong crowds him. Seonghwa’s smile widens.
“I am not great at cooking,” Hongjoong says and clicks his tongue. “My eomma is disappointed by that but I fix all of her clothes for her, so she doesn’t complain too often anymore. But my life and hobbies are almost one in the same right now.”
“Cute,” Seonghwa says, eyes tracing Hongjoong, and he licks his lips, almost as if he doesn’t notice himself doing so. Hongjoong follows the movement and looks back at Seonghwa. Seonghwa has a half-smirk on his lips and shit, it’s hot. “One and the same as reforming clothes and painting?”
Hongjoong nods yes.
“Reforming and making clothes is my job and main hobby right now,” he says. “Painting is only part of that. I do it for stress relief, honestly. I like photography as well. This city is perfect for that. Back in Seoul I used to write songs and produce on the side, I don’t do so as much now, but I might go back to it as I look for jobs back home.”
“You keep getting more and more interesting, Hongjoong-ah,” Seonghwa says, leaning into Hongjoong’s space.
Hongjoong doesn’t back off and gets a full whiff of him. Hongjoong breath stutters as he pulls in the sweet scent of spicy vanilla with a hint of coffee mixed with something that may only be Seonghwa’s natural musk. It’s addictive and Hongjoong has to hold himself back from shamelessly climbing into the man’s lap.
Thankfully, it’s been long enough that all the alcohol he drank shouldn’t be affecting him too much. He didn’t take too many shots. Yeosang’s helpful voice echoes in the back of his mind that it’s one shot of alcohol per hour that kidneys can metabolize. They’d also eaten a shit ton of meat and food, which helps.
Maybe he should switch to water, especially with the way his body is gravitating toward Seonghwa.
“What’d you mean?” Hongjoong asks, eyeing Seonghwa with a curious look.
He allows himself to stand up and go over to the tiny ass pantry that’s not even a pantry and grab a water bottle. He grabs two and brings one over to Seonghwa. Seonghwa accepts the bottle of water with a cute bow.
Hongjoong is in trouble if he’s already thinking that everything Seonghwa does is cute.
“You’re so accomplished. You’ve finished college and you didn’t grab a day-to-day job but instead left your home and are doing a master’s degree across the world,” Seonghwa says, there’s a wondrous note in his tone. “And then you’re also an artist on top of that, you have an internship at a fucking big company, and you write songs on the side? What the actual fuck, you’ve blown me away.”
Hongjoong is blushing, in fact, he’s blushing so hard that his ears, face, neck, and chest are instantly hot.
“Ah, stop it,” Hongjoong says, instead of the tempting words to turn their conversation in a more flirty direction. “I am just me.”
“You’re very cool,” Seonghwa says, this time the model is grinning, wide and it’s beautiful on him. His smile reaches his eyes and it steals Hongjoong’s breath. “It’s okay to brag sometimes, especially if you’re so talented.”
“Are you being genuine or are you sweet talking me?” Hongjoong asks, setting his water down after drinking most of it.
Seonghwa opens his own water and drinks some of it.
“I am being very genuine,” Seonghwa says, there’s a furrow between his brows that Hongjoong wants to reach up and smooth out. “I am also sweet talking you at the same time. How can I not? You’re…”
Seonghwa trails off like there’s a fight in his head as he looks at Hongjoong.
“You’ve complimented me so much,” Hongjoong says, pushing past the blush that won’t taper off. “Thank you, Seonghwa-ya. You’re very sweet and I can tell you’re being real about your compliments. Thank you for inviting me out. I know it’s so late, but it’s been the best fun I’ve had in a long time.”
And Hongjoong wasn’t lying. He didn’t do much outside of school and his internship and crush on Seonghwa. He had a scarce amount of friends around him, and they weren’t even friends, more like people he knew when he needed human interaction. Seonghwa was the first person since his friends back home to invite him out and pull authentic conversation from him.
That meant a lot. Hongjoong loved making connections with others, he craved it, but he was so busy and so shy that it wasn’t easy for him.
Talking to Seonghwa, was easy for some reason. There was a warmth that settled within him once he started speaking with the model and it hadn’t burned out. Hongjoong wanted to keep speaking with him.
Or more.
“Me too,” Seonghwa whispers. “I don’t go out much and this was also very fun for me.”
A silence descends upon them, but it’s not awkward. If anything, it’s charged. Hongjoong practically vibrates in his seat as he turns and stares at Seonghwa. He chews on his inner cheek and moves.
Seonghwa watches him and then his eyes widen and his pupils dilate as Hongjoong nears him. Hongjoong does so slowly, to make sure that what he’s doing is allowed. The model doesn’t say anything when Hongjoong places a hand on his shoulder and fits himself onto Seonghwa’s very nice, very firm lap.
Seonghwa licks his lips. Hongjoong watches Seonghwa, enraptured as his pink tongue darts out and Seonghwa’s hands rest on Hongjoong’s hips as if his hands were always meant to be there.
“Is this okay?” Hongjoong asks into the stillness of his apartment.
“More than okay,” Seonghwa murmurs, voice so soft and eyes gleaming with interest.
Hongjoong leans down and they’re face to face, he’s so close he can smell Seonghwa’s intoxicatingly spicy scent and he almost melts into his arms. Seonghwa is watching him closely, eyes tracing every part of him.
That sends a thrill down Hongjoong’s spine and his cock stirs in his jeans. Hongjoong shifts in Seonghwa’s lap, trying to get more comfortable with suddenly tighter pants. Seonghwa’s pupils dilate some more, his gaze darkens and his hands tighten on Hongjoong’s hips. Hongjoong stifles an embarrassing moan at the action.
Hongjoong suddenly needs Seonghwa’s lips on his. They close the gap at the same time and Hongjoong moans softly when their lips touch. Seonghwa tastes like the mango soju they had hours ago with a hint of something else.
Seonghwa’s lips are soft and his tongue, fuck , his tongue is soft and wet as it pushes past Hongjoong’s lips. Hongjoong wraps his arms around Seonghwa’s neck and braces himself with one hand on the nape of Seonghwa’s neck.
The kiss is slow, searing through him, pulling soft noises from Hongjoong every time they move their lips. Seonghwa nips softly at Hongjoong’s bottom lip and he keens, sliding forward in Seonghwa’s lap.
The model pulls him close as their hips align. The action pulls a groan from both of them as their hardened cocks brush together, separated by their pants. Hongjoong moans again as Seonghwa nips at Hongjoong’s bottom lip, lips slick with spit.
They keep kissing, lips sliding against each other, tongues exploring, hands wandering, and Hongjoong sees stars with the pleasure mounting in his core. Seonghwa traces the sides of Hongjoong’s mouth with his tongue and Hongjoong allows himself to fall into Seonghwa’s steady grip.
Seonghwa’s hands are fully underneath Hongjoong’s shirt and he’s seeing stars with the feeling of Seonghwa’s fingertips pressing over his hips and down his back. Hongjoong ruts forward, grinding himself against Seonghwa.
The sound that leaves Seonghwa’s lips is downright sinful and goes straight to Hongjoong’s cock. Seonghwa grips him harder, their clothed cocks brush and Hongjoong breaks their kiss, panting harshly and head spinning.
“What the fuck,” Hongjoong whispers as Seonghwa takes advantage and latches onto Hongjoong’s neck.
He nips at the column of Hongjoong’s neck, peppering kisses and bites up and down, making Hongjoong squirm and whimper at the feeling. He’s already feeling so debauched, taken apart by Seonghwa and his very skillful tongue. Seonghwa holds him steady with his large hands, warm on his hips, but not quite sliding over his ass.
“You taste ravishing,” Seonghwa says, into his neck where Hongjoong had a feeling that was covered in blooming hickeys. “And those noises of yours, holy shit. So good for me, Hongjoong-ah.”
Hongjoong shudders and braces his arms on Seonghwa’s shoulders.
“Ditto,” Hongjoong huffs, half closing his eyes, losing himself against Seonghwa. “Your mouth is magic.”
Seonghwa laughs against his neck, his hot breath casting a litany of goosebumps over his skin. He follows up his laugh by pulling Hongjoong into more kisses, his mouth insistent and hot as his tongue licks into his mouth and rolls over Hongjoong’s tongue in a slick wet slide.
Seonghwa surprises Hongjoong and one of his hands finds the nape of Hongjoong’s neck and he squeezes, experimentally.
“Fuck, yes please,” Hongjoong whispers, and he’s sure it sounds more like a whimper to Seonghwa’s ears.
Hongjoong arches into Seonghwa’s touch and then Seonghwa’s hand is in his hair, right above his nape. At the same time, Seonghwa bites his lower lip and yanks firmly, but softly, on his hair.
Hongjoong cries out into Seonghwa’s prying mouth and quivers in his hold, going pliant. Seonghwa pulls back, his hand playing idly with Hongjoong’s hair. Holy shit. Hongjoong feels himself begin to float, and a pleasant buzz that has nothing to do with alcohol settles in him. The edges of his vision go fuzzy in a way that Hongjoong fully welcomes.
Seonghwa’s hands instantly leave his skin and Hongjoong can’t help but whine at the loss of contact. Hongjoong bites back another sound when Seonghwa’s warm hands find his face. Seonghwa’s thumb caresses the apples of his cheeks in soft sweeping motions.
Hongjoong’s whole body feels lit on fire and Seonghwa is the one that kindles the flame.
“Hey, Hongjoong-ah, are you with me?” Seonghwa asks softly, concern lining his face.
Hongjoong pulls himself from his head long enough to snap into reality, meeting Seonghwa’s attentive gaze.
“I am,” Hongjoong says, the words a bit heavy on his tongue. He licks his lips, feeling a bit dry. A prickle of awareness ghosts over his spine, helping him climb over the cloudy feelings he started to dip into. “I’m sorry, I haven’t done this in a while and I got very carried away.”
There’s a careful look on Seonghwa’s face as he holds Hongjoong so gently and gives him a meaningful look.
“Hongjoong-ah, are you in a mental space to continue?” Seonghwa asks, and Hongjoong meets his gaze, and can’t help the shivers that run down his spine.
Seonghwa has a serious look on his face and it’s turning Hongjoong on even more than it should. His eyebrows are furrowed, and his eyes are intent, tracing every inch of Hongjoong’s face.
Hongjoong steels himself, closes his eyes, and takes a few breaths. When he opens them again, he feels more like himself, but the vestiges of his floating feelings are still there. He’s sure that Seonghwa could coax him into that state easily.
“I fall into subspace quite easily if I’m comfortable or feel comfortable with a partner,” Hongjoong says, after another stretch of silence between them. Seonghwa’s eyebrows raise as Hongjoong speaks, interest lights up his features. It’s so cute as his eyes widen. “I’m triggered, in a good way, by hair pulling, and gentle caresses. I apologize if this is something you’re not comfortable with. We can avoid that and do something else if you’d like. If you want I can just blow you, we don’t have to keep making out if this makes you uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”
A weird icy feeling starts coasting down Hongjoong’s back and he hates the feeling. It feels almost like he’s building up for rejection. He tends to ramble when he’s nervous or stressed. Hongjoong didn’t have the courage to seek out Seonghwa first, and the moment he gets a chance Hongjoong starts to fuck it up. It’s not a nice feeling.
“Oh,” Seonghwa says, snapping Hongjoong’s attention to him and breaking him out of his strange muddling thoughts. Seonghwa’s face softens and one of his hands drops from Hongjoong’s face. His hand starts to rub up and down Hongjoong’s arm, and he starts to feel warm. Seonghwa’s touch chases away the icy feelings so quickly. “That’s okay, Hongjoong-ah, thank you for telling me. I don’t mind at all. I noticed that you were zoning out and wanted to check on you. I do hope you’ve been safe about this before because people that aren’t experienced wouldn’t know about subspace.”
A warmth that has nothing to do with how turned on he blooms in his chest at Seonghwa’s words.
Hongjoong chuckles and covers half his face.
“I have been careful,” he says. “I appreciate your concern. I have no idea why I started getting carried away since I just met you. I’ve never started to fall like that with someone I just met. Thank you for checking on me. You’re very sweet and a much better person than some people would be.”
“I would hate for you to drop. Maybe we should stop here,” Seonghwa says, seriousness in his tone. Another look crosses over his expression. “I wouldn’t be opposed to continuing this if you’d like to have a conversation about limits, boundaries, and safewords.”
Hongjoong’s lips twitch. He’s still very much hard in his pants, his hips are basically glued to Seonghwa’s, they’re very much intertwined on the sofa, and Hongjoong is very comfortable and horny as fuck.
“I am very much interested in continuing,” Hongjoong says, reaching and threading his fingers with Seonghwa’s hair. Seonghwa shivers under his hands, it’s endearing how the man’s eyes flutter halfway shut. The man is just as affected by Hongjoong’s touch as he is by Seonghwa’s if his hard cock is any indication. “My safeword is paint, and I don’t mind hair pulling, spanking, light bruising, and some roughhousing. I don’t mind being called names in bed either. I will speak up if I don’t like something. I will safeword if need be. If I fall into subspace, I don’t go nonverbal, it only takes a few moments for me to say something. If I can’t speak, I’ll tap your leg two times or pinch you once. I think we’d have fun if you’re interested. We can keep it light tonight. But I’ll have you know that I also switch if that’s an interest to you.”
Seonghwa smiles, his eyes lighting up with the action as Hongjoong chatters about his preferences.
“Oh, I am interested and I am flattered that you’d trust me with this,” Seonghwa says. “My safeword is frost and I don’t mind switching if that’s something you’re interested in, but I also mainly top. I don’t normally subspace or domspace easily, but if I do, I will stop since I also do not go nonverbal. And light sounds good, something to get to know each other. Speak up if you don’t like something and I will do the same.”
“Okay, I will. And fuck you switch?” Hongjoong asks, his cock jumping as his thoughts run.
“If you want another night with me after this, then we can talk further,” Seonghwa says, squeezing Hongjoong again.
Hongjoong mouths oh my god.
“Will you top tonight?” Hongjoong says instead when he finds his voice.
“If you’re sure,” Seonghwa says, half smiling, there’s a bit of worry.
“I am,” Hongjoong says. “I am consenting fully to this.”
“Then I am as well,” Seonghwa says and pulls Hongjoong closer, his hand having snaked to the back of Hongjoong’s neck again. Seonghwa’s eyes darken as he pulls him closer. “The noises you make are driving me crazy.”
Hongjoong laughs, their breaths mingling between them.
“You should hear yourself, a goddamn masterpiece,” he says.
Seonghwa laughs and kisses him again, taking charge with his oh-so-soft lips. Hongjoong’s eyes flutter shut and he melts into Seonghwa. Seonghwa suddenly moves, scooting forward, breaking their kiss. Hongjoong makes a noise at the back of his throat.
But Seonghwa hikes Hongjoong’s legs up his waist a bit and then stands, pulling Hongjoong with him. Hongjoong exclaims and wraps his arms around Seonghwa’s neck and legs securely around his waist.
Holy fuck balls.
He eagerly presses himself to Seonghwa, who doesn’t look like he’s struggling one bit.
“Thought I’d try that,” Seonghwa grunts, already latching onto Hongjoong’s exposed collarbones. “Shit, you’re so beautiful.”
He bites and nips, his tongue sliding easily along Hongjoong’s skin, leaving a trail of heat behind.
Hongjoong groans aloud and pulls himself even closer to Seonghwa. It’s such delicious heat coursing through him.
He wants more.
“Bedbedbed,” Hongjoong chants, capturing Seonghwa’s lips and chastely kissing him.
Seonghwa spins them and Hongjoong laughs, holding on for dear life. Seconds later he’s carried away and over to his bed.
Seonghwa pries him from his arms and manhandles him onto the bed. Hongjoong goes willingly, giggling wildly and intoxicated by the sight of Seonghwa caging him in.