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Friday, the last day of midterms, one week before the university sports fest
“Yee!” there is a loud cheer that erupts through the corridor, and Hongjoong looks up from his conversation with Yeosang to see Wooyoung and Yunho walking towards them from the other side.
“Hi, guys,” Wooyoung greets, putting his arms around San’s and Hongjoong’s shoulders cheekily. Yeosang eyes Hongjoong, wordlessly asking him what the matter is with Wooyoung. Hongjoong shrugs. Wooyoung’s arm falls off Hongjoong’s shoulder.
“Hi, you,” Yeosang greets, tone dead, “why so happy?”
Wooyoung beams at him exaggeratedly, and Yunho visibly rolls his eyes. The group starts to walk collectively out of school.
“Well, other than sports fest letting me catch up on some sleep for the whole week next week,” he states, pushing the door open to let his friends through the door first, “just some talk that Park Seonghwa and Girl number who-knows-what broke up this morning.”
San tilts his head, “oh,” he says, “it’s been seven days already?”
Yunho nods. Hongjoong pinches his nose bridge. San leans into Wooyoung’s arm, and Wooyoung weaves an arm around San’s.
“You are obsessed with that guy’s love life,” Mingi points out, resting his chin on Yunho’s shoulder.
Wooyoung sticks his tongue out, “of course! I mean, who else can get a girl every week? Real hot girl shit, if you ask me.” He sticks his tongue out with a noise reminiscent of the same sound made by the real hot girl, Megan Thee Stallion.
“You say that as if he even bothers to make an effort for those girls,” Jongho speaks up, brows coming together, “you know he doesn’t.”
“He’s just above average-looking, I think,” comments Mingi, glancing at Yunho.
“Which is why they flock to him like vultures, he says yes and that’s it. Not that hard to follow, Wooyoung,” Yeosang adds.
San bites his lip at that, “um...”
Ah, fuck. That looks suspicious.
“You got something to say?” Yeosang demands.
“Well, you see,” San starts, “my cousin, she has a friend from the Business girls soccer team. She was Seonghwa’s girlfriend once and even if it was only seven days, he really gave his all.”
“Hm?” Yunho seems intrigued even though he’s pretending that he’s not interested in this kind of shit.
“Yoojung said her friend was treated like a princess. He really went all out, he even spent money for her. All-expense paid, you could say. Who else in this school can do it like that?”
“Literally anyone else with a trust fund, maybe?” Yeosang cuts in, exasperated, “me, if I saved up? Jongho? Hell, even Wooyoung can treat those girls like queens and he’s a fucking idiot.”
“Hey!” Wooyoung cries, “as if you don’t look like you pissed yourself all the time; maybe if you learned how to smile someone would look at you—”
Hongjoong laughs, “break it up, you two.”
San’s hand softly sneaks down to lace his fingers around Wooyoung’s to calm him down as they make it past the gate out of campus.
“I wonder who’s next,” Mingi wonders aloud.
Wooyoung doesn’t even wait for the question to settle in everyone’s minds before he begins to scream, “Hongjoong!”
“What!?”
“You!”
“Me?”
“Yes!”
“What?”
There’s a shit-eating grin on Wooyoung’s face. “You! You’re going to be Seonghwa’s next bet!”
“Asshole!” Hongjoong swats at Wooyoung, “Wooyoung, I’m not gay.”
“I just kinda wish you were gay...” San sings under his breath, and Yunho giggles.
Jesus Christ. If they weren’t Hongjoong’s friends he would probably get so mad at San for being absolute trash for corny jokes.
“Yeah, right! As if you weren’t lusting over his serves when we went to the games in high school, you fucking loser.”
“Oh my god, shut up. That was two years ago! And he was really good, okay!”
“See, that’s why you two need to date! So you can get over your crush for Seonghwaaaaaa,” Wooyoung singsongs as he makes kissy faces at Hongjoong.
“I don’t have a crush—” Hongjoong makes a reach for Wooyoung, but he arches his body inwards, away from the blue-haired boy, laughing.
“Come ooooon,” Wooyoung begs with a pout that looks close to breaking out into laughter, “we’ll even make a bet out of it.”
Oh shit.
“Let’s bet on it,” Wooyoung says again, “confess and date Park Seonghwa, and if you finish all seven days without falling in love with him for real, you win.”
“And what would I ‘win’?” Hongjoong challenges.
“My eternal love and devotion.”
Hongjoong’s face crumples in disgust. “Ew!”
“Well, um... I’ll purposely go late to the varsity training session so Chan-hyung can beat my ass!”
All heads turn at this suggestion.
“Are you insane?” Hongjoong yells. “Why would you want your ass beat by Bang Chan? Does your full ride mean nothing to you, Mister Varsity?”
Yeosang would not even breathe at the idea. Mingi is trying to fan him even in his own panicked state.
“Come on, Hongjoong,” Wooyoung implores.
“And if I say yes and you win, what do you get?”
“I’ll buy you two boxes of Korean chicken.
“You’ll get me two boxes,” Hongjoong stares at him, “of Korean chicken.”
Wooyoung shrugs, “I’m a simple man.”
“You’re going to equate sudden death to free lunch?” Yunho is bewildered.
Wooyoung waves the concerns off, “Trust me and yourself, Hongjoong. And in Park Geum Hye.”
Hongjoong gasps, “Park Geum Hye was impeached!”
The cackle erupting from Mingi’s chest almost topples him over, and it could have if Yeosang and Yunho were not holding his hands.
“What does that fascist have to do with this conversation?” asks Jongho, and Wooyoung only laughs, walking ahead of the group.
“He’s fucking insane,” Hongjoong mutters to himself, walking after Wooyoung. “Oi, Jung! What do I need to do?”
Wooyoung cheers. Yeosang groans.
Monday, the first day of the university sports fest
Hongjoong wakes up on the first crow of the nearest rooster to his dorm room (his phone's alarm tone), dragging his feet across the tiled floors, taking the towel from his door to head to the bathroom. He normally does not get up this early, but if he wants to get good seats to the opening ceremony of their sports festival, he has to line up for it or, in Wooyoung’s words last Friday as they planned this nefarious plan of his, ‘confess to Park Seonghwa in the parking lot of the university learning resource center so he can sit at the front row of the bleachers next to his new man.’
He hates how he refuses to lose to Wooyoung. He refuses to skip out on his afternoon classes with Wooyoung to buy him Korean chicken just because he could not keep his heart in check. He refuses to allow Park Seonghwa charm him into three months of mourning because he could easily throw Hongjoong away like he did with all his other girls. It’s six-thirty, literally two hours before the start of the opening ceremony, but he’s already dressed in his yellow sports fest shirt—go Performance Arts Badgers!—and running out the door and into the street, headed to the train station. He has to get to Park before anyone else does, he needs to win.
When he gets inside his school, he spots the large tree with its bench around it, its damp cement making it look cold. It seems to give off a false sense of privacy – how alluring. It’s empty too when he gets there, and he wishes it were for the rest of time till the gates of the stadium open at six-thirty. He likes this spot already. It is pretty and quiet and safe, a somewhat picturesque scene for him to sit at. In his ears, Zayn croons to an song from his debut solo album.
‘You’re looking in the wrong place for my love / don’t think because you’re with me, this is real.’
He really doesn’t want to do this: confess his fictitious, undying love for a boy he is not really interested in, but it is his pride on the line, and he has already agreed to this.
He feels a finger tap on his shoulder. He jolts. Crap.
Can’t look back now.
“Hi,” the person greets, and Hongjoong turns to look at him.
Oh, Lord.
Oh, Lord, it’s Park Seonghwa.
Park Seonghwa, member of the College of Business and Economics volleyball team, legendary server since high school, is standing right behind him with his dirty blonde hair and a big innocent bambi eyes and that dickhead smoulder and oh my god, he smells like vanilla, how the hell?
“Hi!” Hongjoong jumps up from the bench, greeting him in a higher pitch than he usually speaks in. He flings his body around to face Seonghwa, not realising a pebble on the ground right by his sole. He steps on the pebble...
But Seonghwa catches him by the waist, mid-mini scream.
Motherf—
“You alright?” Seonghwa asks in a low voice, and Hongjoong’s cheeks are on fire. He’s quitting he’s quitting he’s quitting—
“Ah, yes,” Hongjoong responds in a voice completely different from his own. It is not even the high-pitched voice like earlier, it is probably the voice of Hongjoong in another universe where all boys are girls and all girls are boys. He looks up at Seonghwa, who is staring at him with his wide brown eyes, and he fiddles with his fingers.
They stare into each other for a long while, or a short while, Hongjoong cannot tell. All he knows is that Seonghwa’s eyes are like the ocean during a typhoon: deep and kind of curious. He wishes his own eyes were like that, emotional. His are easily misconstrued as cold and mean because of how his eyelids are.
Seonghwa breaks the trance between them, clearing his throat as he steadies Hongjoong, shoving his hands back into his varsity jacket pockets. Seonghwa walks behind Hongjoong, kicking the pebble away so it does not cause any more nuisance.
“Park Seonghwa,” Hongjoong calls breathily, exaggeratedly, as if his breath was taken away by this minor act of heroism.
Once the pebble was kicked a safe distance away from them, Seonghwa turns to look at Hongjoong, “yes?”
It sounds kind of forced, Hongjoong notices, and it is reflected in his smile. Even if he’s pretty in the morning light, his smile is kind of weak, insincere, tired. Like he’s only being polite because Hongjoong is with him. Like he’s being polite because he feels bad for being rude. It’s like Seonghwa knows what’s coming next.
Hongjoong bites his lower lip.
Why did he agree to this again?
“Uh,” he stutters, looking down on the ground, both in real nerves and in exaggeration of them, to make it look like he’s really really nervous. Hah. He should get an Oscar. “Um, remember when we first met?” He wills himself to blush, gulping down the cringe he is feeling inside. What the hell is he saying?
Seonghwa only quirks a brow, and walks closer towards Hongjoong, nodding at him slowly to continue. Hongjoong averts his eyes like any girl would, biting his lip again.
“I know that I’m a boy, and you probably don’t like boys, but... at least I tried...”
Seonghwa tilts his head. “What do you mean?”
“I liked you since high school, Park Seonghwa!” he squeaks. His eyes clamp shut so hard he feels wrinkles forming by the corners.
“What?” exhales Seonghwa, clearly dumbfounded.
“Um, uh...” Hongjoong stutters again. Jesus, it really is nerve-racking to confess your love to someone you do not even care for in all honesty. It never goes away. “Will you go out with me?”
Seonghwa’s smile grows visibly.
“Sure,” Seonghwa looks at Hongjoong straight in the eyes, and Hongjoong is choking on air. Did Park Seonghwa just say ‘yes’?
Hongjoong’s eyes are popping out of his skull, “r-really?”
Seonghwa nods, brushing off a few strands of Hongjoong’s fringe that had fallen away from his eyes. The morning light is hitting him in a very artistic way that brings out the angles of his nose and makes him look somewhat younger than he already is, and suddenly in that moment Hongjoong understands why all the girls clamour for Park Seonghwa. This boy is not a prince, he is a god.
“Of course,” he says in a kind voice. He helps Hongjoong stand upright, “you free later? A new café opened last week, I really wanted to try it. Is that alright for a first date?”
Hongjoong nods way too enthusiastically that he feels Seonghwa can read into him, but he wishes it is not possible.
The announcement chime rings. “Students lining up to enter the stadium, please form a single line to the entrances assigned to you...” it begins, and as it continues to announce the entrance gate numbers for every college, the two exchange phone numbers.
“Wanna walk in together?”
“Aren’t you an athlete?” Hongjoong raises an eyebrow. “It’s alright, I’ll just wait for my friends here.”
Seonghwa smiles at him again, putting his hand on top of Hongjoong’s head and rubbing the other’s forehead. “See you later after the ceremony?”
Hongjoong squeaks. Seonghwa laughs then walks away towards the stadium, waving to Hongjoong. When Seonghwa turns away, Hongjoong heaves a large sigh.
He thought that he would get rejected, to be honest. Park Seonghwa has never rejected anyone, but then again all the people who asked him were girls and never boys. Maybe he just said yes so he can keep his reputation. Well... okay.
Not even a minute too soon Wooyoung arrives, grabbing at Hongjoong’s forearm to get him off his seat on the bench. “I saw you two talking. Did you ask him out already?”
Hongjoong merely turns to the other boy and flashes him a peace sign and a large toothy grin before walking away. Wooyoung lets out a large ‘whoop!’.
Once they make it into the stadium, they see San sitting with Jongho, Yunho, Yeosang and Mingi. Of course, Jongho is eating a bunch of grapes as a form of makeshift breakfast from the Tupperware and offers it to Hongjoong. “Hi!” Yunho greets. “So, how was it? Are you the new Missus Park Seonghwa?”
Hongjoong groans again.
“He is!” Wooyoung practically screams.
Yeosang glares at him, but is intrigued nonetheless. “So? How’d you manage that?”
Hongjoong groans again, then proceeds to retell the entire encounter of how he asked Seonghwa out, and Wooyoung is cheering noisily that it catches the attention of the rest of their college.
“What if he rejected me?” Hongjoong asks, swallowing the Bravo cracker he was chewing on. “I thought he would.”
Yeosang rolls his eyes at him, “He wouldn’t.”
“How do you know?” San inquires innocently, and Wooyoung places a hand on San’s hair and starts combing through it.
“He’s been doing this since first year,” Yunho shrugs, “he has never rejected anyone. Why would his reaction be different to Hongjoong?”
“Oh fuck you, Yunho,” Hongjoong glares. “Nice to know that I’m only to keep his reputation clean.”
Yunho raises his hands up in surrender, “don’t fuck me, that’s Seonghwa’s job.”
Hongjoong is about to sneer at him when San speaks hesitantly, “uh... guys...”
“Hm?” the three older boys turn to look at San.
“I heard something about Seonghwa,” San stammered, unsure. “From Yoojung.”
The three boys lurched closer, and San took this as a wordless cue to tell them what he has heard.
“Even if Seonghwa is charming, he’s got rules,” San begins, “even if he puts in effort in his relationships—texts, calls, dates every day, you name it!—he doesn’t like getting touched...” he trails off, his voice lilting upwards as if he was asking a question. “No handholding, no hugs, no kissing anywhere.”
Yunho and Yeosang look at each other.
“Sounds sad,” Jongho states plainly, dusting his lap off, “not touching your partner.”
“Yeah, it’s like, you’re not emotionally invested, or something!” exclaimed Mingi. To make a point, he takes Yeosang’s hand, and leans his head on Yunho’s shoulder.
“Of course you would know,” Yeosang rolls his eyes teasingly.
Mingi pouts. “Hey!” he whines.
“I was doing just fine before I met you—” Yunho starts, out of the blue.
“I drank too much and that’s an issue,” San continues with a grimace.
“But I’m okay,” sings Jongho, continuing the song with finger guns. Everyone else in this friend group laugh along.
Hongjoong laughs, albeit distractedly, while Wooyoung hits his boyfriend for being straight for no reason. He is too busy thinking.
Why would Seonghwa want to date so many people, but in the end not touch any of them, not even hold hands or anything? It is alright not to want sex – he has a cousin who is a nun and she turned out fine. Asexuality is also a thing. Why did Seonghwa even date so many people in the first place? Is it because he needed to feel loved himself? Or is it because he has self-esteem issues?
While his friends were continuing to recall meme videos that went viral on Twitter, Hongjoong is too occupied with trying to psychoanalyse his new boyfriend and to crack the mystery of as to why he does not want to touch all the people he has dated, and why he even said yes and dated all of them.
Why?
He forgot his question the moment the siren to begin the opening ceremony sounded, his hype over the cheerleaders overpowering his curiosity. He did not think of Seonghwa at all until the end of the program (how in hell did the College of Engineering win the cheer competition? Robbed!), when his phone vibrates violently in his pocket and he takes it out sneakily to check as he pushes his way out of the stadium.
Seonghwa <3: hello, my love. Ready for our café lunch date?
Oh, Lord.
He types out a reply.
Me: omg
Me: i guess i am haha where are u?
Seonghwa <3: basement! room esb113, my team is here
Seonghwa <3: come down, i’ll wait for u
Hongjoong is about to type a reply when Jongho pushes him. “Move it, there’s a line.”
“Yes, sir, sorry, sir,” he apologised, pocketing his phone.
He needs to leave, and it’s one part because of embarrassment, and another part a strange excitement he hasn’t felt at all since this morning when Seonghwa asked him out to the college cafe. Can people go faster? He needs to go right now.
Hongjoong manages to make it to the basement of the stadium in one albeit sweaty piece, and he finds Seonghwa leaning against the door of room ESB113, a cheerleader standing by him with a skirt that should be convicted for being clearly two inches above the knee and form-fitting and nope, no, no, he’s not jealous and doesn’t want the girl to be punished for wearing a skirt so short to try and seduce his supposed boyfriend. Nope.
Hongjoong stands by the staircase, observing the two with clammy palms as their photo is taken by another cheerleader in the same uniform. There’s a strange sensation Hongjoong feels—blood is swiftly pumping to his hands and he kind of wants to bitch-slap the girl for trying to talk to his boyfriend. But he is not jealous, really, it is just the principle of it, of someone trying to steal his boyfriend from him.
Or is she? Is she really? Or is Hongjoong just paranoid?
Seonghwa’s face is scrunched up as he looks up to see Hongjoong stand by the stairs. He gives the girl a polite smile before turning back to him, his smile widening by just ever so slightly. Hongjoong can see Seonghwa shake his head slowly, and the girl nods in response, however slowly. Hongjoong smiles in return, walking towards the two.
“Sorry, Yaebin,” Seonghwa offered, “but I already said yes to someone this morning.”
The audacity!
Hongjoong is ready to fight when he hears Seonghwa continue speaking, “why don’t you try again next week?”
Yaebin nods forlornly, looking at anywhere but Seonghwa, and even if Hongjoong views the girl as a rival, he can’t Hongjoong but empathise with her now.
Next week. Next week and this will be over. This time next week, they will no longer be dating. Hongjoong is not jealous, or threatened, or sad, or whatever. He’s fine. He’s not hurt. It was inevitable, anyway, so why is he taking it so seriously? He’s not really that disposable. Besides, it’s just for a bet. He’s not even in love with Seonghwa; he’s not even gay, for goodness’ sake!
Hongjoong decides he really shouldn’t keep the girl suffering and Seonghwa waiting, so he cries out, “Seonghwa!”
Seonghwa looks up, face lighting up when he recognises that it’s Hongjoong. He gets up from the bench, bounding up to him, “hi, babe.”
Hongjoong spares a glance to the cheerleader who is looking like she wants to strangle Hongjoong.
“Let’s go?” Seonghwa offers, and Hongjoong sneakily winks at the cheerleader as he nods at Seonghwa.
“Sure, I’m pretty hungry,” Hongjoong responds, subtly trying to elbow Seonghwa, who dodges out the way when he feels Hongjoong come in contact with him, smiling at him.
Okay, wow. So San was right. No touchy.
Seonghwa turns to lead Hongjoong away when Yaebin shouts after them, “wow, Kim, didn’t know you were gay!”
Hongjoong freezes in his way. He almost makes an attempt to bite back, but Seonghwa does it for him. “And why is that your business?”
Yaebin looks offended by Seonghwa’s defense.
“Don’t be bitter, peach face,” Hongjoong says, “doesn’t it cause wrinkles?” and with that, he leads Seonghwa out of the stadium.
As they get out of the stadium, Seonghwa wraps a hand around Hongjoong’s elbow. “Sorry about her.”
Hongjoong shrugs, “it’s cool.”
“You sure?”
“Of course.”
Seonghwa does not look like he believes him, but he lets the matter rest as he leads the other boy to his car. Hongjoong fiddles with the fluff in the pockets of his jeans, “Stop worrying,” he chuckles, “it’s nothing I didn’t expect when I decided to ask the Park Seonghwa.”
Seonghwa rolls his eyes, “the Park Seonghwa?” he raises a brow, “am I that important?”
Hongjoong wants to sass him for being modest when they get to his car, and they drive off to the café.
“You’re serious. It’s called the Aishiteru Cafe?” Hongjoong inquires, and Seonghwa nods. Hongjoong hits himself in the face.
“’Aishiteru’? Really?” Hongjoong cringes outwardly, “you know what that means, right?”
“’I love you’?” Seonghwa answers, unsure.
An opportunity is staring him in the face. He would be a fool not to take it. “I love you too!” squeaks Hongjoong, making a heart with his arms.
The hearty laugh that emits from Seonghwa’s lips is worth it.
The two of them get out of the car, and Seonghwa opens the door to the small cafe, beckoning Hongjoong to go in first. Hongjoong marvels at how the place looks like.
The small building is all white, filled with white minimalist tables and chairs. The only spark of color in the café were the pastel pink and blue cushions and throw pillows on the seats. On the walls hang strings of fairy lights, polaroid photos of what Hongjoong guesses are previous customers clipped to the lights.
“Pretty...”
“Like you,” Seonghwa whispers from behind him, “pick a table, it’s my treat.”
Hongjoong doesn’t waste time running up to a table by the window, placing his backpack down on the floor under the table. He looks at Seonghwa’s back as he faces the counter, looking up at the menu to choose their order.
He looks out the window, and zones out, when he feels his phone vibrate against his leg. He fishes it out of his pocket to realise that there are literally millions of messages from Wooyoung.
Wooyoung: where r u
Wooyoung: u just disappeared
Wooyoung: whr u
Wooyoung: oi
Wooyoung: HELLO?????
Wooyoung: KIM HONGJOONG?????????????
Wooyoung: hello
Wooyoung: hello
Wooyoung: hello pls reply
Wooyoung: hello
Wooyoung: hello
Wooyoung: your honor
Wooyoung: im a freak bitch
Wooyoung: handcuffs leashes
Wooyoung: switch my wig
Wooyoung: make him feel like he cheating
me: oshit sorry i went out with seonghwa don’t worry
Wooyoung: put him on his knees
Wooyoung: WHAT
“Hi,” Seonghwa breathes when he gets back to the table.
Hongjoong nods, smiling. He looks at the polaroids by the wall opposite him. He feels kind of nostalgic, even if he has never been here before. So many people shared so many moments here, he feels a happy energy surging through him.
Seonghwa places his elbows on the table, “so, Hongjoong, tell me about yourself.”
Hongjoong accidentally slams his phone screen down at the question, looking at Seonghwa in a confused manner. “What’s this, a job interview?” Seonghwa chuckles. Hongjoong keeps his phone in his pocket.
“Er, um,” he stutters, “I’m Kim Hongjoong, second year music engineering and sound production. I used to watch you play when you were at my high school.”
“Cool,” Seonghwa comments, “what school were you from?”
“Dong-An High,” Hongjoong hides his face in his hands in embarrassment. “What about you? Tell me about the boy I courted too!”
Seonghwa shrugs self-deprecatingly, “There’s not much about me. My name’s Park Seonghwa, second year Communications and Broadcasting. I have an older sister, Sooyoung. She’s way better, but you didn’t hear that from me.”
“What do you mean?”
Seonghwa nods, “she’s the favorite and we both know it, but I’d rather die than admit it to her.”
“Why do you think that?”
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” he says, looking away, “but the long and short of it is she knew to focus on school and stopped playing. I’m the one who can’t let go of volleyball just yet. Glory days syndrome, maybe.”
“I know what you mean. Sometimes I want to go back to high school just to play soccer, it was easier back then, and it was pretty cool,” Hongjoong puts his hand over the table. “But it’s not a bad thing to keep playing, you know. Aren’t you on a scholarship because you play?”
“Just a partial one. How’d you know that?”
Hongjoong winks at him. Seonghwa chuckles, and hits him lightly with the throw pillow he grabs from behind his back.
When their orders arrive, Hongjoong is surprised that Seonghwa had gotten him one slice of cheesecake that costs probably way too much for a cheesecake. Seonghwa confiscates the receipt from him before Hongjoong could see the total, “don’t look at that.”
“But—”Hongjoong pouts.
“Cute, but it’s not going to work,” Seonghwa says, handing him a fork. “Just enjoy it, I’ll take care of everything.”
Hongjoong’s heart really did not flutter.
The rest of their date passes quickly in a flurry of loud laughter and a plethora of gossip about the old players at Dong-An that Seonghwa once played against, and a Social Studies teacher who moved from Seonghwa’s school to Dong-An after six years of teaching who seemed to be constantly pregnant.
Hongjoong learns other things about Seonghwa, like his childhood obsession with Saturday morning cartoons, how he had a large tantrum when he went to Japan with his parents when he was five because his parents wouldn’t buy him a Nintendo, how he went to Universal Studios in Florida with his family last year and got into a fight with his sister so she left him at Harry Potter World and he ended up getting lost with a dead phone battery.
Hongjoong sticks his tongue out at Seonghwa, “ha! Karma. Next time, don’t be rude to your sister.”
Seonghwa pouts playfully.
Hongjoong talks about his life too, about his cat and how he cried when his father buried the cat when it died, and how a girl slapped him in the face because she thought Hongjoong touched her butt when he was twelve on the train home when it really was the old perverted-looking man next to him, how his dad surprised his mom during their wedding anniversary last year by getting Hongjoong to put him in a cake and have him pop out.
“Oh, it’s sunset already?” Seonghwa wonders aloud when the sun lands on their table in deep orange hues. “What do you think, should we head home?”
“We could, yeah,” Hongjoong picks up his bag and Seonghwa follows him closely.
Once out of the cafe and inside Seonghwa’s car, Seonghwa turns to Hongjoong to grin at him happily. It kind of confuses Hongjoong.
“I had fun,” he says, his smile reaching his eyes. What.
Hongjoong returns the smile, “me too, thank you.”
“It’s nothing. We should do it again,” Seonghwa gets closer to him, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
Seonghwa pulls out of his parking spot and they begin the drive to Hongjoong’s dorms after Hongjoong directs Seonghwa’s GPS to his address, and they drive in silence.
Me: is Seonghwa always this nice?
Wooyoung: OH SHIT
Tuesday, the second day of the university sports fest
Yeosang throws a pillow at him. “Oy, wake up.”
When Hongjoong does not move, Yeosang places the thrown pillow over his face to press it harder against his nose. Hongjoong screams.
“Motherf—” he pushes Yeosang off of him. “Asshole, I could have died! It’s—” he turns to the clock on the bedside table, “it’s six-thirty!”
Yeosang is unbothered. “Your boyfriend is outside.”
The cry Hongjoong lets out does not sound manly as he scurries out of bed and down the stairs, attempting to tame his hair down.
Park Seonghwa is sat in his living room, looking as pristine as he usually does: hair perfectly pushed back, not a wrinkle in sight on his shirt, perfect posture, perfect skin, perfect features—
“Seonghwa!” Hongjoong calls, somewhat breathless.
Seonghwa turns to look at him, smiling way too brightly for this time of day, “good morning.”
“H-Hi.”
Seonghwa nods at him, “nice hair.”
Hongjoong screams again, like a strangled bird.
Seonghwa chuckles, “don’t worry, it’s cute. I brought breakfast.”
Yeosang clears his throat from behind Hongjoong.
“Yeosang!” It’s literally way too early for this.
“He brought pancakes,” he says, devoid of all emotion. Both Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s faces fall into solemn expressions. “after knocking our door down.”
Seonghwa and Hongjoong look at each other then at Yeosang, Hongjoong looking at him with a horrified face, while Seonghwa gazes at the sterm boy sheepishly.
“Go shower, I’m going back to bed. Leave my food in the fridge.”
“A-ah, o-okay,” says Hongjoong, cowering.
“But you’re already up, why not just join us?” Seonghwa cuts in with an innocent smile.
Yeosang stares at the blonde boy wordlessly. Hongjoong slinks into the bathroom.
When he comes out, Seonghwa is at the dining table with Yeosang, conversing about something he can’t hear, and he is literally in a towel, and this is so embarrassing, so he sprints past dining table and into his room.
He emerges from his room dressed casually—just a yellow t-shirt and a pair of jeans, really.
“Come sit and eat,” Yeosang instructs, getting up to leave him with Seonghwa.
Once Hongjoong sits down, Seonghwa smiles uneasily at him, “hi?”
“It’s so early, why are you here?”
“Yes, sorry,” Seonghwa slides him a plate of pancakes, “I just have a game today.”
Hongjoong squints at him before taking plate to eat. “Thanks.”
Seonghwa tries to make conversation, “are you going to wear that shirt?”
“Yes, why? Something wrong with yellow?”
“Well, no, I just...” Seonghwa twiddles his thumbs together, “it would be nice if my boyfriend wore purple, to support me... because it's my game...”
Hongjoong really cannot make conversation after being woken up against his will. “Oh my god!” he squeaks, dropping his fork. “I’m an idiot. I’ll go change after eating, then we can head off. What time is it?”
Seonghwa reads the time off his phone screen, and starts looking around their kitchen as if trying to find something interesting.
When they get to school, Seonghwa’s team is waiting for him, staring.
“Seonghwa is so famous,” Hongjoong teases, and Seonghwa rolls his eyes.
“No, Seonghwa is so late because he put his boyfriend first,” he pinches Hongjoong’s cheek. “Go sit somewhere I can see you, kay?”
Why is he so flustered? “O-Okay...” Hongjoong wants to set himself on fire and fall over at the same time.
‘Motherfucker,’ Hongjoong thinks to himself, ‘why is he such a sweet talker?’
“Oy, Hongjoong!” someone yells, and his head whips around to find the source to realise that it’s Wooyoung, approaching him with Mingi and Jongho. Hongjoong waves at them, meeting Wooyoung with a bro-hug.
“What are you guys doing here?” he asks, not realizing Seonghwa is following closely behind, waving at them.
“Good morning.”
Hongjoong startles. “I thought you went with your team already!” he moves to push Seonghwa towards where his team was warming up. “Go get warmed up!”
Seonghwa chuckles. “Can’t I meet your friends first, at least?”
“Fine,”Hongjoong huffs with a pout, then turns to his friends, “this is Mingi, Jongho, and Wooyoung. Guys, this is Seonghwa, but you know that.”
Mingi waves back, Jongho offers his hand and Seonghwa shakes it, and he and Wooyoung go into a bro-hug as well when a whistle blows from behind them, and a whole gaggle of male voices crying out Seonghwa’s name.
“Oh crap!” Seonghwa exclaims, “I gotta go. I’ll see you later?”
Hongjoong nods at him, “Of course.”
“Lunch again?”
Hongjoong nods again, albeit hesitantly, before Seonghwa runs off to his team.
Once Seonghwa is out of earshot, Wooyoung turns to Hongjoong, “so?”
Hongjoong sighs largely, “I can’t do this.”
All three of them shriek out a “what?”
“Why?” Jongho inquires.
Hongjoong shrugs, “he’s different. He’s nice.”
“What!?” Wooyoung repeats.
“I might be starting to like him, Wooyoung,” he laments, “I don’t know if I can take it when he leaves.”
Wooyoung is about to scream again, something about him winning the dare now, when Mingi shoves him and pats Hongjoong’s head. “You don’t need to keep at it, Hongjoong. We won’t force you. Right, Wooyoung?” Jongho glares at Wooyoung who slumps in defeat.
Hongjoong sighs. It would be so cowardly to back out of a dare, it shouldn’t be anything anyway. He just needs to date Park Seonghwa for seven days. That’s all. He could do it. Besides, it’s already day 2. He can get through seven days without falling in love with Park Seonghwa. “I’ll just finish this,” he declares in a small voice, “it’s embarrassing if I don’t.”
Wooyoung shrieks again, offering his hand for a high-five that Hongjoong half-heartedly meets. “That’s it! That’s the Hongjoong we know.”
Fuck Wooyoung. Hongjoong rolls his eyes, and leads them to find a spot in the bleachers to sit at.
The game ends at exactly noon with a close win for Seonghwa’s team, but it isn’t anything conclusive. If anything, it’s the preliminaries. Seonghwa heads towards him hurriedly as soon as their coach lets them off, glistening in sweat. Hongjoong remembers their lunch date. He sees Seonghwa hurriedly pack his things and he takes it as his cue to get down from the bleachers towards him, a hurried goodbye to his friends. Wooyoung waves him away.
Once Hongjoong’s feet land on the court, Seonghwa’s eyes meet his, and his face lights up. “Lunch?”
Mothershitfuck. “Let’s go.”
Hongjoong follows Seonghwa up to the Education building, up four flights of stairs to the top floor of the school, where he opens a door towards the end of the hallway to reveal a dusty spiral staircase.
“What—”
“Hurry!” Seonghwa urges, excitement in his voice as he pulls Hongjoong into the room and up the sketchy stairs.
There is another door on top of the stairs which Seonghwa simply twists open – it’s the school’s rooftop garden.
“Oh my god,” Hongjoong exhales, awed at the plants, the flowers, the view, the height, the fact that Seonghwa managed to get them up here. “How, this is clearly out of bounds!”
Seonghwa grins smugly as he sets his bag down on the floor, “don’t worry about it. Now sit, I have something in my bag.”
What.
“Seonghwa...” Hongjoong says in a warning voice, but sits across him with crossed legs nonetheless.
“Stop worrying,” Seonghwa waves him off, “okay?” He opens his bag to retrieve two double-tiered bento boxes. He opens them both and separates the tiers: two of the four containers contained rice. Seonghwa hands one to Hongjoong. One other container contained a scrambled egg shaped into a bear next to a stack of pork cutlet and, okay, how did Seonghwa know that this was Hongjoong’s favourite? The last container contained radish kimchi.
“Hwa...” Hongjoong gasps at the lunch Seonghwa had packed for the both of them. Seonghwa beams.
“You like it?” he asks, looking up at Hongjoong. Hongjoong nods fervently. Seonghwa chuckles, and turns back to his bag to reach for the two pairs of chopsticks as well as two bottles of fruit juice.
Hongjoong smiles as Seonghwa hands him his chopsticks and tells him to eat. Seonghwa is growing to be his favourite person, and it would have been okay, except it isn’t, because he’s going to be dumped in seven days. But why is his heart so vulnerable, easily allowing Seonghwa in, knowing that none of this is real?
Wednesday, the third day of the university sports fest
Seonghwa <3: let’s go out after my game?
Hongjoong slaps himself on the cheek tightly when he realises a dopey smile is forming on his lips. Why is this happening? Normally he doesn’t care – he shouldn’t care – but lately whenever Seonghwa’s name pops up on his phone screen, there is a warm churn in his stomach and its discomfort shows on his face in the form of a foolish grin.
San stares at him for slapping himself but says nothing. Good friend.
Is Hongjoong getting a crush? On a boy, too?
Nah. It can’t be.
And besides, he’d never get a crush on Seonghwa. He’d rather jump off a plane than be in love with Seonghwa. He can’t be another one to the string of lovers that he’s dragged and dropped like expired cheese. It’s better to drown in deep water than drown in his feelings for a boy that clearly does not feel and will never feel the same way for Hongjoong.
That is, if Hongjoong really does have a crush on Seonghwa. Which he doesn’t. Psh. Nah.
But his competitve nature takes over, making his fingers take charge and type a reply of affirmation, telling his fake boyfriend that he’ll meet him after his game tomorrow at two. And yes, ‘fake’ because all of this is a fluke. Nothing is real, Seonghwa is just humouring him, and Hongjoong is only reminding himself of what his real standing is.
When Hongjoong is approaching Seonghwa after his game, Seonghwa stands like a groom expecting at the end of the aisle.
“You okay?” Hongjoong asks in an amused voice. He would laugh if he weren’t so besotted for this boy.
“Yes, of course,” Seonghwa’s light and breezy voice responds, “let’s go?”
Hongjoong nods in response, following Seonghwa’s lead to the parking lot.
“Where are we going?” quips Hongjoong, looking up at the slightly taller junior. Seonghwa only looks ahead as they get in the car.
“My house.”
“What!?” Hongjoong’s voice echoes throughout the parking lot.
“Calm down,” Seonghwa chuckles, “we’re going to my house.”
“W-Why?” Hongjoong stutters, “I- Seonghwa, we’re too young! I’m not ready, I’m only in my second year—”
Seonghwa laughs even more, “What are you talking about, we’re just going to play games!”
Hongjoong pretends to pray, “Oh my god! Is that what kids call it, nowadays? ‘Playing games’? Oh my god...”
Hongjoong knows that even if he is not looking at Seonghwa that Seonghwa is rolling his eyes, “I’m talking about PlayStation.”
Hongjoong milks the joke for all its worth, “PlayStation? What’s that? A new sex toy—ah!”
Seonghwa tickles him.
“Hwa!” shrieks Hongjoong, hitting Seonghwa on the shoulder. Seonghwa only laughs boisterously at him, dodging his hit.
“I’ll die!”
Seonghwa pouts, “I’m just tickling you, baby, I wouldn’t let that happen to you.”
Hongjoong wills himself not to turn red. Shit.
The next moment Hongjoong looks at Seonghwa, Hongjoong concludes that he hates the two-o-clock sun, because it’s too bright. It’s too bright and it hits Seonghwa in the right ways that it makes him look like a god, and Hongjoong finds himself wishing that he would the one to make Seonghwa weak.
He tears his gaze away; he shouldn’t stare. Because if he stared, he’d fall. And if he’d fall, he’d touch. And no matter where this went, Seonghwa would still leave him in the end because he never settles for long. He’s a butterfly and Hongjoong was the flower sucked of all its nectar, unable to move and follow his favourite butterfly.
“Hey,” Seonghwa mutters, looking at him with creamy brown eyes that swirl earnestly as they look at him. Hongjoong struggles not to bite his lower lip to prevent himself from saying anything.
He’s so pretty and Hongjoong can’t take it. He can’t take this perfection and the knowledge that Seonghwa can and will tear him apart after seven days. Why did he agree to this stupid dare in the first place? Just so he can mock Wooyoung? This isn’t worth it. He can mock Wooyoung another time, and at his own expense as well. Not Hongjoong’s, especially now that he feels afraid of his feelings for a boy that only kept him around to keep his reputation of never turning anyone down – boy or girl.
He didn’t like how Seonghwa makes him feel so important, so special, so loved. He didn’t know he needed this kind of affection until Seonghwa gave it to him, spoiling him and giving him all that he needed from a relationship.
Not even his last girlfriend made him feel this way. It was cute at first, the prospect of him and her, but now it just gives him a lurch in his stomach and a green face thinking back on it. It’s a stark contrast to the happy fluttering in his stomach and the rosy cheeks Hongjoong gains when Seonghwa so much as merely text him.
Seonghwa is so charming, so kind, so cordial, so sincere, and Hongjoong is obsessed.
Hongjoong is falling apart because one: he thought he was straight, and two: he wants to explore the prospect of being not-straight with Seonghwa, to give Seonghwa the honour of being his first experiences as a queer boy.
He wants Seonghwa so much it’s starting to scare him.
Hongjoong tells these fears to Yunho that night in the cab home – he would have gladly taken the bus but Seonghwa forced him and even paid for the cab in advance – he tells it to Yunho who listens intently, Hongjoong teary-eyed in the backseat as he laments of his newfound feelings.
“I don’t know anymore, Yunho,” wails Hongjoong, “I swear I’m not gay, but Seonghwa...” he sniffles.
Yunho hums over the phone. He owes Yunho so much, being the pillar of strength of their group, the beacon of maturity and the voice of reason.
“I feel like I love him.”
Yunho sighs, “are you sure about that?”
“I think so...”
“It’s okay to feel that way, Hongjoong—”
“But for a boy like him!?” he exclaims, “what now, am I a masochist too?”
“You can do this, Hongjoong. We only have four more days. At least after this you can make Wooyoung suffer for how much it cost you.”
Hongjoong hates that Yunho knows how his pride is so important to him.
Thursday, the fourth day of the university sports fest
“Hng?” Hongjoong garbles into his phone.
“Let’s go on a date?”
Hongjoong bolts into a sitting position on his bed, “Hwa!”
Seonghwa laughs his twinkly kind of laugh into the phone at Hongjoong’s flustered voice.
“Get dressed, we’re going out.”
“E-Eh, wait, Hwa,” Hongjoong stutters, “don’t you have a game today?”
Hongjoong can literally hear Seonghwa’s eyeroll on the other side, “I don’t, it’s semis today and I don’t have a game until tomorrow.”
“What?” he clarifies, rubbing his eyes, “semis? Already?”
“You ask too many questions, you’re so cute,” Seonghwa muses, “don’t worry, just get up. I’ll be at your dorm at seven-forty, we still have a long way to go.”
“Eh? Where are we going?”
“Stop worrying. Just get dressed, I’m on my way.”
Hongjoong can hear the call being ended, but he’s frozen on the spot with his phone still pressed to his ear.
Then he screams.
“COEX Aquarium!?” Hongjoong raves when he catches sight of the huge sign saying ‘COEX AQUARIUM’. “We’re going to COEX Aquarium!?”
Seonghwa looks at him in a way that could only be described as fond, but Hongjoong erases that from his mind. It can’t be real, it’s just his wishful thinking reflecting on the sights he sees in real life.
“You like it? I asked Yeosang-ssi, he said you really liked the COEX Aquarium in high school and were saving up to go here in the summer.”
Hongjoong only squeals in response. Before he can Hongjoong it, the words are out of his mouth, “you’re the best boyfriend in the world,” he declares, before attacking Seonghwa with a hug.
Hongjoong is breathless. He can’t believe Seonghwa had gone through all this trouble and spent so much money so he can fulfill his boyfriend’s childhood wish of returning to Japan Ocean Park.
It’s too much effort for the type of boyfriend who has an expiration date like him.
Tunnels and tunnels of fish stretch out before him, and the guard was barely even given a second to check Hongjoong’s ticket before he runs past the man, squealing as he catches sight of the glowing tanks.
“Come on, Hwa, come on!” he bounces on either foot in his excitement, wishing he could just grab Seonghwa’s hand and drag him inside. This is no time to smile and walk slowly, surely Seonghwa would understand that. Hongjoong has not set foot in this place is almost twelve years, he needs to hurry to see how everything is now.
But even so, it’s not an excuse. It’s not an excuse for Hongjoong to grab his hand without his consent, especially since it’s against Seonghwa’s personal rules.
Eventually with Seonghwa’s turtle-like speed and his kind-of-drunk smile trying to catch up with Hongjoong, they finally make it into the aquarium itself.
Hongjoong is mesmerised.
This place is just as beautiful as he remembered it – blue and glowing, the sun beaming gently down on the sea and through the glass as their natural light.
Groups of different fishes swim past, from families to solo fishes, various sizes of seahorses and tortoises, as well as some majestic stingrays. And Hongjoong is so entranced by the beauty of nature and of the ocean that he doesn’t realise that Seonghwa had slipped his hand into Hongjoong’s, only finding when he feels skin pressing against the back of his hand.
It must be some kind of joke – San must have been wrong with the claiming that Seonghwa never touches anyone he dates because he’s touching Hongjoong right now. They’re holding hands, and Hongjoong’s heart is soaring.
He says nothing about it even with his mind racing a mile a minute with too many thoughts about how Seonghwa defied his own rules of never touching whoever his conquest was for that week. Instead, Hongjoong grins and bears it, reveling in the sensation of finally touching Seonghwa for what could be both the first and last time. He’ll pretend this is real: they’re a real happy couple, destiny bringing them together until the lines get closer and closer until they become one entity. Not two individuals, but them as one unit bound by real love.
Even with the strange stares, neither of them let go.
Friday, the fifth day of the university sports fest
“How did your parents meet?” Seonghwa asks, sat closely by Hongjoong’s side on his bedroom window, their feet dangling right over the rusting metallic roof of the first floor. It’s a chilly night and they drape Hongjoong’s blanket over their shoulders, and they stare at the starless sky, identifying the colours that compose it instead.
Hongjoong is taken by surprise. “Sorry?”
Seonghwa only nods. That’s helpful.
“I don’t know...” Hongjoong mumbles, somewhat embarrassed.
Seonghwa insists, “for real.” He sidles even closer to Hongjoong, like he isn’t close enough to the other boy. It’s not helping that his window is too small for two fully-grown college boys.
“Um,” Hongjoong starts racking his brains for any scrap of memory he can retell about the story of how his parents met. “My mom’s from Anyang. After high school she went to Incheon for university and lived with some distant relatives who were my dad’s neighbors. At the time my dad was a bit of a ladies’ man, but my mom was still head over heels with him. I think it was an ego boost for my dad, because he went after my mom too, then my dad fell in love with her too even if his goal at first was to just fuck around with her. So he left all his other girls and married my mom. The end.”
Throughout the story Seonghwa was beaming. “That’s sweet,” he coos, and Hongjoong furrows his brows at him. “Especially your dad.”
“Are you crazy?” Hongjoong demands jokingly, “he was a playboy, what do you mean ‘sweet’?”
Seonghwa lets out an exaggerated, childish whine, raising his hands and throwing them around Hongjoong’s waist, holding him tightly as he places his head on Hongjoong’s shoulder. It almost feels normal. “It is.”
“Whatever, Seonghwa.”
“Do you think you’ll get your happy ending?” Hongjoong asks after a stretch of silence. “the kind where when you wake up in the morning, you know for sure that this person is your forever.”
“You sound sappy,” Seonghwa lifts his head from Hongjoong’s shoulder. “but I don’t think it works like that...” he trails off.
“Then how does it work?” Hongjoong challenges. This boy really has the guts to talk about how forever works when he’s a playboy on his own?
“I think forever is a mutual agreement. You know, you two talk and compromise your life together. Forever isn’t symbolized by engagement rings and ‘will you marry me’s, but more on cooperation—I hate this conversation, don’t ask this again.” Seonghwa laughs, shoving the other boy.
Hongjoong rolls his eyes at Seonghwa’s sudden ending, “sorry, then.”
“It’s alright,” Seonghwa places his head on Hongjoong’s shoulder again, pulling him tighter against him. Hongjoong tries not to think about how Seonghwa is not a hassle to be cuddling with, unlike his last girlfriend. It was almost like they fit, like they were each other’s home.
If there was a star right now, Hongjoong knew what his wish would be.
“It’s late,” Seonghwa whispers into his neck, and it makes Hongjoong tingle everywhere. He hopes Seonghwa doesn’t notice. “I should head home, finals tomorrow.”
Hongjoong would normally make a comment about how even if he does not turn up tomorrow their team would win anyway, but it’s clouded by the emotion of disappointment because Seonghwa is leaving him.
“I had fun.”
“Me too,” Hongjoong smiles so brightly his cheeks are in pain. It says a lot about the things that make him smile and the frequency in which it happens. He’ll probably be never this happy again, he muses bitterly.
“Aw,” Seonghwa says fondly, a hand removing from Hongjoong’s waist and placed on Hongjoong’s cheek. “Big smile; that’s cute.”
Hongjoong wants to swat his hand away but he’s too busy feeling panicky over the fact that Seonghwa was touching him in places that are risky if he didn’t want someone to fall in love with him.
Seonghwa brushes his thumb gently on Hongjoong’s cheek and Hongjoong’s heartrate increases when Seonghwa lets go and gets up, crawling back into the window into Hongjoong’s room. He picks up the blanket and wraps it around Hongjoong who allows himself to be wrapped snugly in the cloth when he feels something soft press his cheek, a smacking noise resounding against his face. Even his eyelashes hear the sound.
Seonghwa had just kissed him on the cheek.
And without a word, Seonghwa had padded out of his bedroom and out of his dorm room, making sure to close the door as politely as possible.
Hongjoong feels like his heart is on fire as his mind reels over what just happened.
Seonghwa had just kissed him.
Saturday, the last day of the university sports fest
“Yunho, oh my god,” Hongjoong cries, “he hasn’t texted, I’m gonna throw up—”
“Hey!” Yunho exclaims, “don’t do that, are you alright?”
“No!? I can’t—he hasn’t texted!”
Yunho sighs, “that’s your problem...? Mingi even deleted his own number from Yeosang's phone as a joke to do that kidnapping prank and Yeosang didn't save it after, are they over now?”
Hongjoong grabs Yunho by the shoulders and shakes him, “you don’t get it, Yunho, we’re always texting, but now we aren’t! He’s probably thinking about how he can break up with me tomorrow!”
Yeosang cuts in. “That’s a given if he’s your boyfriend.”
“I know that!” cries Hongjoong, “I know that, but you don’t understand, he kissed me last night—”
Wooyoung leaps from his seat, “what!?” he demands, “he kissed you!?”
Hongjoong’s lip is quivering like he’s going to cry, and he nods. “On the cheek.”
“Run that by me again,” Jongho asks again, slowly this time, for confirmation. “He kissed you?”
Hongjoong nods again. Mingi and Wooyoung gasp. Yeosang sighs.
“Hongjoong, that’s not normal behavior! He doesn’t hold people’s hands, much more kiss them!” San shrieks.
“But he did it with me...”
Wooyoung screams.
“—and now he’s not talking to me, I’m scared...”
“Maybe he’s embarrassed,” Mingi answers hopefully, “maybe he hasn’t had his first kiss. Oh my gosh, what if he likes Hongjoong for real now?”
Hongjoong is about to refute this when his phone rings in his hand. It’s Seonghwa.
“He’s calling!” screams Hongjoong, heaving his breaths to calm down before he picks up the call.
“Hello?”
“Can we meet? I have to tell you something.”
“Oh, of course! Where would we go?"
"The tree."
When Hongjoong arrives at the fated tree, he sees Seonghwa standing, waiting with a solemn face. His chest clenches painfully. Why does Seonghwa look so sad? Is this it?
“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa breathes almost inaudibly.
“Are you okay?” says Hongjoong, “is there a problem? You know you can talk to me...”
“I think we should break up.”
Hongjoong does not know which one sinks to his stomach first—his face or his heart.
He knew it was coming, it was inevitable. The end to their whirlwind romance would soon come, but he didn’t think it would be a day too early. And he certainly did not expect the ease with which Seonghwa says it. But he’s not surprised, he’s done this countless times, so why is Hongjoong any different?
From sadness came anger, Hongjoong’s eyes steeling themselves into coldness, “you’re kidding me, right?” he demands. Seonghwa looks up from his feet in astonishment. “You’re gonna leave me, and like, what? Am I not enough for you that you’re breaking up with me after only six days?”
“That’s not what I mean— what?” Seonghwa stammers.
“Then what do you mean? Why do I only get six days and the others get seven?” his voice grew thicker as he spoke. His eyes are pooling with tears when Seonghwa looks away from him.
“I just think we need to break up, okay? I’m sorry,” says Seonghwa, turning away to leave.
“You’re a fuckboy, you know that, Seonghwa?” Hongjoong struggles against the chokehold his tears have on his throat as he calls out to Seonghwa’s retreating back.
Seonghwa freezes.
With all the remaining emotional strength Hongjoong has, he continues, “A real piece of shit. You made me believe that you really liked me. Do you know what people have been telling me? That you never hold your girlfriends’ hands, and you never kiss them, but you held my hand when we went to COEX, and you kissed me last night, I just— I’m going home.”
“Hong—”
Hongjoong forces himself to not spare Seonghwa a glance, running as fast as he could away from the other boy, even if Seonghwa was screaming his name.
Being single was easier.
Sunday
Are you sure you want to delete this contact?
Y es.
Monday, the first day of final term, one week after the university sports fest
“Oh my gosh!” Wooyoung shrieks through the halls, San in tow by the collar and screaming for his life. The two collide with the unsuspecting Hongjoong and Jongho.
“Hey!” Hongjoong demands, “what—?”
Wooyoung claps his hands jubilantly as San coughs out a breath, “Seonghwa doesn’t have a girl of the week!”
Yunho, Mingi and Yeosang choose that moment to merge with the group. “What!?”
Wooyoung laughs boisterously, “Yeah!”
San rubs his elbow, moving to explain. “Seonghwa rejected the girl that confessed to him this morning and told her to spread the word that he isn’t dating anymore.”
Hongjoong wills himself to act completely normal, like this new information isn’t bothering him in the slightest. Why did Seonghwa suddenly give up this whole dating-someone-for-a-week thing?
His heart swells in the very minute hope that he stopped because Hongjoong had something to do with it. He must have realised he had hurt Hongjoong so much, maybe he realised with Hongjoong’s outburst that he had hurt many people but none of them were courageous enough like Hongjoong to tell him that he feels played, and that he felt something close to remorse for all the people he had lifted up only to throw them down and butcher their heart. Or maybe because he’s fallen for Hongjoong as well, but Hongjoong knows that’s wishful thinking. Seonghwa never falls in love, he was hard to get. Or maybe he’s just tired of dating a new person, having to cope with their quirks and their personality and having to come up with new things to do and new places to go. Korea is only so big.
Hongjoong sighs. He’s overthinking it – he probably has nothing to do with it. And besides, he should be moving on from Seonghwa, not be hung up on him and his choices. It’s much better that way, anyway, he doesn’t get hurt anymore.
Tuesday, the second day of final term, one week after the university sports fest
“Kim Hongjoong!” Wooyoung shrieks once again throughout the halls. Hongjoong swears one day he will duct tape Wooyoung’s face.
Wooyoung is waving a piece of folded paper in front of his face, “someone asked me to deliver this to youuuuuu,” he sings.
Hongjoong is trying to catch Wooyoung’s eyes, dodging the paper in his face, “huh? Who?”
“Don’t worry about it!” squeals Wooyoung, shoving the paper into one of the pages of the college statistics textbook Hongjoong was clutching. “Read it later, alright? I gotta go, I have class!”
Wooyoung runs away with no explanation, and Hongjoong stares at his retreating back before remembering that they were supposed to be in the same classroom and he’s heading in the wrong direction.
It’s two hours later at the groggy college algebra class that he remembers the folded note slipped into his textbook when the teacher instructs them to open page one hundred forty-five and do question one – from letter a to g.
He flips through his textbook, finding the note in page three hundred seventeen, pulling it out and opening it to read.
The paper is filled with a clean and firm handwriting, almost like his father’s, in expensive black G-Tec pen ink. It was so neatly written it almost intimidated him.
And yet with the appearance of the handwriting, it was surprising that the content was a love letter.
Hello, Kim Hongjoong!
Hehe. Sorry, I just got butterflies imagining you reading this.
Kim Hongjoong, you are the cutest person on earth! I think I have a crush on you—wait, no. I’m sure I do. You’re really cute, you know that? Your hair, your eyes, your dainty hands, your soft skin... When you laugh too, my heart starts soaring. Jesus, I need help.
Okay, what the hell am I saying? Focus, friend.
You make me happy. You’re loyal, kind, understanding and fun to be around. Whenever I saw you during sports fest, I wanted to go up to you and give you a kiss on the cheek, you’re so cute.
I want to ask you for a chance to prove myself, to prove to you that I’ll take care of you and I won’t ever hurt you like Seonghwa did. Can I ask you to come and meet me at the big tree in the quadrangle at 4pm? I’ll wait for you!
~ Secret Admirer <3
How cute.
Hongjoong would say ‘no’, but he can’t. Not wordlessly, anyway. He’ll just turn up to find out who it is and explain to them that he’s not over Seonghwa yet, and that it’s nice that they thought Hongjoong was all these qualities, but instead of charming, it just comes off as flattering. He’ll apologise because he can’t like this person back, and maybe offer to be friends.
Seonghwa has really ruined all his hope for romance.
At lunch, Hongjoong is approaching the tree when he finds Seonghwa sat under the tree on the blue bench. He is about to slow down and ease back up when Seonghwa spots him, and his face lights up.
“Hongjoong!” he calls him over.
No way.
Hongjoong refuses to walk any closer. “What are you doing here?” he demands.
“Waiting for you,” Seonghwa yells back happily.
What?
“Waiting for me?” Hongjoong almost scoffs. “We’re over, remember?”
Seonghwa looks like a kicked puppy as Hongjoong spits those words out. His eyes widen again, shining in the sun, a pout puffing his cheeks. “I, um...” he mumbles, looking down on his lap, “I sent the note.”
Hongjoong does not bother holding back his snort. He is bitter, sue him. “What are you saying? You don’t like me, remember? I mean, you left me on the sixth day.”
Seonghwa exhales, “I’m sorry, Kim Hongjoong,” he says, “I was just scared. I’ve never liked anyone before, but you... you’re something else. Something that makes my heart flutter.”
What?
“Yoojung talked to me, you know? She told me you asked me out for a dare but you started having feelings for me and I felt so ashamed. I hate losing, Hongjoong, but... not to you. I’ll lose to you any time.”
“You knew?” Hongjoong asks, astonished. Sometimes he loves San, but San literally tells his cousin everything that it gets kind of annoying. Seonghwa nods.
“And I was upset so I thought of breaking up with you, but I was wrong. I’m sorry, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says in a small voice, “I didn't think I would miss you, even if we were only together for six days. I hated the days after.” Seonghwa wrings his fingers together as he speaks, “so I’m here to ask for a second chance.”
“What?”
“Let me try again, Kim Hongjoong!” he cries, eyes boring into Hongjoong’s, conviction clear in his voice. “I’m not sure if this is love, but I really want it to be. I want you to be my boyfriend and I want it to be real. I promise this time I’ll behave and I won’t leave.”
Hongjoong stares at him with a blank stare. He walks in measured, slow steps and stops right in front of the taller boy before he slaps him, flinging a hand into Seonghwa’s face in one swift motion. Seonghwa is given no time to react to that when Hongjoong grabs Seonghwa’s face, kissing him deeply.
“Fuck you, Park Seonghwa,” Hongjoong exhales when they break apart, their foreheads touching and his arms tightening around the back of Seonghwa’s neck to pull his body closer, “but yes.”
Seonghwa giggles, honest-to-god giggles, a beautiful light sound that flies to the sky as his eyes squeeze together. They kiss again, smiles on their faces, Hongjoong feeling Seonghwa’s warmth and nervous breathing.
"Yes?"
"Yes."