Work Text:
Hongjoong works long shifts every weeknight, so the Saturday when he meets Seonghwa for food and Seonghwa sits him down to tell him that he has a boyfriend, he’s still fighting off sleep, heavy eyelids and yawns overtaking him.
“Chan is my boyfriend, Hongjoong-ah.”
Hongjoong looks up from the coffee he’s holding preciously between both hands. “Oh,” he says. It misses the level of enthusiasm he was going for starkly. “Oh! That’s great!”
Seonghwa goes from hesitant to so happy it hurts Hongjoong’s eyes in an instant. “Yeah. He’s great.”
Hongjoong may not have been actively expecting this news, but it’s not a surprise, either. Seonghwa has been seeing Chan for what must be three weeks now, though Hongjoong isn’t very good at keeping track of time these days. He hasn’t talked much about Chan without being prompted, but what he has said showed Hongjoong a window to the illuminated path Seonghwa was walking.
That is, this path. The boyfriend path.
“When can I meet him?” Hongjoong asks. “Since he’s your boyfriend now.” He wiggles over to nudge his elbow against Seonghwa’s body.
“Oh. Whenever.” Seonghwa reaches a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. “Or, like. Tonight?”
Hongjoong lets out a laugh. “What?”
Seonghwa tries and fails to look sheepish. “I already asked if he’s up for it. We can get dinner.”
Chan is somehow both nothing like Hongjoong expected and everything he would have imagined for Seonghwa. He’s a little older than both of them and the same size as Hongjoong. He’s from Australia, and his accent peeks through once in a while, especially when he gets excited. He has this calm, steady, pure energy, and he clearly likes Seonghwa a lot.
Which, Hongjoong thinks. Fair.
He has a sickeningly cute giggle that makes an appearance whenever Seonghwa makes those terrible dad jokes that Hongjoong always shames him for, and he’s just cute. He’s handsome. He’s lovely.
The worst part is how gracious he is. He buys all of their food, and aside from the honeyed smiles he and Seonghwa give each other, it just feels like hanging out with two friends. Chan is going to be a great boyfriend for Seonghwa.
They part ways after dinner, Chan saying, “Hongjoong-ah, it was great to meet you. We’ll have to hang out again soon.”
Hongjoong means it when he agrees.
“He was okay,” he teases when Seonghwa asks him what he thought, dragging out the last word.
Seonghwa doesn’t even try to hide his grin. He rarely does.
“He’s great, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong says more seriously, knocking their shoulders together. “He seems really nice. I can see it. With you two.”
“Me too.” They pause in front of Seonghwa’s building; Hongjoong’s is a few streets away. “I’m really happy you like him,” Seonghwa says. “I do want us to actually hang out again sometime.”
“Yeah. We should do that.” Hongjoong gives himself a few seconds to look at Seonghwa. His happiness is so beautiful. “Goodnight.”
“Bye, Hongjoong-ah,” Seonghwa says. “I’ll see you soon.”
If there is a difference between hollow and empty, Hongjoong is resolutely straddling it.
The weeks are getting longer and longer. Things have been slower than normal at the bar, which makes Hongjoong’s shifts drag on half the time. He leaves tired, wakes up tired, spends whatever waking hours he has before going back to work tired.
Hongjoong doesn’t purposefully leave his quiet alone spaces, even during the weekend, unless nudged. Sometimes tugged. This is one of the things about him that Seonghwa is good at knowing and acting on. Seonghwa pulls him into something in the outside world, often outdoors, and this is needed and accepted. A lot of weeks Seonghwa is the only person Hongjoong sees who isn’t a coworker, unless Yunho invites himself over to play video games.
Chan becoming part of this is welcome and refreshing, though Seonghwa appears hesitant at first. He seems to think Hongjoong will resent being a third wheel, and whatever guilt he feels at this prompts him to buy Hongjoong several meals. Hongjoong’s protests are feeble.
Lee Minho is Chan’s friend. He brings him to dinner one week and Minho leans over to Hongjoong and says, “They’re trying to set us up.”
They were fairly transparent about it. Hongjoong just smiles. “Good to meet you.” And this is true. He’s not interested in Minho the way Seonghwa and Chan hint at, but he likes him. Minho is smart and sarcastic and surprisingly loud, good at games. They exchange numbers. Minho sends him pictures of his cats. Hongjoong has no regrets.
“You’re going to Japan?”
“Yeah. It’s just for like ten days.” Minho leans his elbows on the bar. “The group I’m backup dancing for is going on tour.”
“Wait.” Hongjoong pauses with a comically large bottle of whiskey in his little hands. “You’re a backup dancer for an idol group?”
Minho looks startled. “I thought you knew that.”
Hongjoong shakes his head. “I very much did not.” He pauses to put the whiskey up. “Hey, shit, that’s really cool,” he says when he turns back to Minho. “Sounds like a really good time.”
“I think it will be. But like I was saying, Chan wants to have food and drinks before I go. So you should come.”
“Hell yeah,” Hongjoong crows. “Of course I want to hang out and celebrate my cool friend Lee Minho.”
Minho scowls at this. Then he says, “Can you watch my cats while I’m gone?”
Hongjoong knows the story with most of Chan’s friends: when he started at university he met Felix, who’s also from Australia, and they were fast, easy friends. Felix is a dancer, and he and his friends adopted Chan with a vice grip. Minho was one of them; this is why he and Chan are friends with so many dancers.
That’s most of the others at the dinner for Minho. There’s Felix, small and cute and smiling, and there’s Hyunjin, pretty and a little evil looking, picking on Minho then backing off in an intentional push and pull. Seonghwa already seems to know them and their other friends. As soon as he’s in the room they’re showing him a dance TikTok they made together.
And then there’s—
“Is that...?” Hongjoong mutters.
“San?” Seonghwa asks. His volume is enough to get San’s attention from where he was trying to cling to Minho.
“Seonghwa-hyung?” San says in surprise. His eyes skip over Seonghwa. “Hongjoong-hyung?” He glances at the doorway.
Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.
Where there’s San—well.
Wooyoung walks into the room and Hongjoong can clock his tiredness from here. He’s bundled in a big grey hoodie, and he seems out of it enough that when he looks right at Hongjoong, he just blinks. “What?”
“Hey,” San says. “So. Nice to see you both, and all.”
The rest of the room has caught on to the fact that something is happening and goes deeply quiet. Chan materializes next to Hongjoong.
San’s head jerks toward him, eyes going wide. “Is Chan dating Hongjoong?”
Chan splutters a little, flustered and confused. “What? No. Hongjoong is Seonghwa’s friend.”
“We know,” San says.
“Seonghwa is my boyfriend.”
“Seonghwa is your boyfriend?”
“Yes?”
Hongjoong shuffles himself to the other side of Chan, and Seonghwa takes Chan’s hand. “Yes,” he says more firmly. “Hi San. Wooyoung.”
“Hey,” Wooyoung says. He still looks surprised, but when he wants to he can do this infuriating thing where he takes things in stride, or at least pretends to, and looks like nothing affects him all that much. It’s already driving Hongjoong crazy. Wooyoung holds his hand out to Seonghwa, urging him into a handshake. Seonghwa takes it because he is Seonghwa. “Congrats on locking down Chan.”
“If anybody could do it, Seonghwa could,” says San. This makes Wooyoung smile.
Chan squawks. “What does that mean?”
“It means our Chan-hyung deserves the best,” Wooyoung says. He reaches out to squeeze Chan’s face between his hands while he says this, and then he moves right on past them to Minho.
A compliment for Seonghwa, Hongjoong notes. And absolutely nothing for him.
The how do you know each other question doesn’t come until later, a table full of food in front of them. It’s sweet, earnest Chan who asks it, and Hongjoong can’t even be mad.
He meets Wooyoung’s eyes from across the table and two down. Wooyoung is chewing a bite of food; he raises his eyebrows at Hongjoong. “Hongjoong and I dated,” he says. He reaches for his drink. “Until what, two years ago?” He looks at Hongjoong for confirmation.
There’s silence around him. Hongjoong must be flushed. Minho is looking at him with alarm on his face. “Something like that.”
“Oh my god,” Chan says, almost faint. He looks horrified with himself. It would be funny, if—well, no, it’s still funny. “I’m... I had no idea.”
Wooyoung snorts into his beer. “Why would you? Don’t worry, hyung. We’re all adults here.”
Aside from Chan’s pink cheeks, that’s that.
Felix has a game for them to play, something kind of like charades, and this is where Hongjoong shines. When he does a little hopping, flapping thing to indicate a bird to Seonghwa, everyone in the room laughs. Hyunjin and San scream. San’s “CUTE” makes him grin with pride.
Wooyoung is looking at him too. Hongjoong can’t help checking, and when he does he sees an amusement and fondness that makes him feel uncomfortably warm in the admittedly stuffy room.
Hongjoong and Wooyoung go head to head at the end of the game.
“The loser has to write their name with their butt!” Felix says, and giggles into Seungmin’s side.
“That’s not fair,” Hongjoong protests. “I’m not a dancer, you can’t make me do hip stuff.”
Wooyoung snorts. Seonghwa, across the table from Hongjoong, looks like he’s about to explode.
“You’re right,” Wooyoung says. He makes eye contact with Hongjoong. “I should do the hip stuff.”
And so Wooyoung concedes the game, and Hongjoong has to watch him write his name with his butt.
They’re all full of of food and drinks and it’s getting late, so things wind down naturally. Minho gives Hongjoong the door code for his apartment and tells him to take good care of his children. It’s the closest Hongjoong has ever seen him to looking menacing. Then he goes, to a chorus of goodbye and good luck. When he’s gone Wooyoung materializes beside Hongjoong, and Hongjoong tunes in to hear Seonghwa asking San about Yeosang.
“Of course we still hang out,” Wooyoung says, affronted. “He’s a baby and he needs us.”
“Oh, I’d love to see him,” says Seonghwa.
“Yunho would burn with jealousy,” Hongjoong tells him.
San lights up. Wooyoung says, “Is that torch still lit?”
“We’ll have to see.” He doesn’t entirely realize what he’s saying, but before he can get awkward about it, Wooyoung says,
“I guess we will.”
They make eye contact. The extra height Wooyoung has on him always felt insignificant until they were up close, and Hongjoong is having that experience now. It feels different than whatever lives in Hongjoong’s memories. Maybe that’s because of this altered aura Wooyoung has. Maybe it’s because he hates Hongjoong or feels nothing about him.
Whatever it is, it makes Hongjoong’s skin feel shuddery even after they look away at the same moment.
Seonghwa goes home with Chan. Wooyoung and Hyunjin make suggestive cat-calls to their backs, and Wooyoung laughs warmly when Seonghwa looks back and scowls at them.
“We’re headed for the station,” Wooyoung says over his shoulder to Hongjoong.
Hongjoong is too. So he walks with them.
San is at a level of tipsy-giggly that means he’s extra clingy but extra cute, too. It causes Hongjoong a measure of both fondness and nostalgia. Hyunjin sings a trot song loudly as they walk, and San reaches up to stop him, covering his mouth. Hyunjin whines in protest, then San starts singing, picking up where Hyunjin left off.
“Loud,” Wooyoung mutters. Hongjoong nods. Then Wooyoung joins the singing, so really, Hongjoong has no choice.
Wooyoung and Hongjoong’s stop is a couple further down the line than San and Hyunjin. It’s not late enough for the real rush, so they manage to find seats before they wave off San and Hyunjin, who are holding hands.
“Is that a dating kind of holding hands or just San’s need to hold every hand?” Hongjoong asks.
“The second one,” Wooyoung says with an inkling of a smile. “I think Hyunjin has a little bit of a crush on him, but Hyunjin gets a lot of crushes.”
“A crush on San is understandable, anyway.”
Wooyoung shifts beside him. Only then does Hongjoong blink into the reality that for all intents and purposes, they are alone. Just the two of them, for the first time in years.
“He has one on Minho too.”
“That makes sense.” It tracks with the way Hongjoong saw them acting together.
“What about you?”
Hongjoong looks at him. “What about me?”
Wooyoung touches the curve of knuckle at the base of Hongjoong’s thumb, where for some reason Minho wrote his apartment code instead of texting it to Hongjoong. “You and Minho seem pretty close.”
“Oh.” Hongjoong thinks about that. “Not really? Maybe, I guess. We’re mostly third and fourth wheels. He keeps me company at work sometimes, too.” Wooyoung is still looking at him; another moment and Hongjoong realizes what he was trying to ask. “I’m not dating him. Neither of us are interested.”
Wooyoung nods. “Cool. Just wondering. Minho is cool. Where do you work?”
The choppy sentences take Hongjoong a moment to catch up with. “Oh. I work as a bartender right now. The bar is near Chan’s stop.”
The train comes to a stop. Wooyoung pulls himself up and holds his hand out to Hongjoong. Hongjoong takes it, then glares when Wooyoung tugs him up hard enough that he stumbles. This makes Wooyoung smile, properly this time, and makes Hongjoong a little more comfortable with the contact that’s still burning his hand.
Parting of ways happens almost right away out of the station. Wooyoung says, “Bye, Hongjoong-hyung.”
“Bye, Wooyoung-ah,” Hongjoong says before he can overthink saying Wooyoung’s name.
Wooyoung looks at him one more time. Hongjoong wonders if something is supposed to happen, but nothing does except for Wooyoung lifting a hand as he heads off down the sidewalk.
Hongjoong has a total of four exes, and he doesn’t hate any of them. He hates Jung Wooyoung least of all. Despite Wooyoung’s loud and sometimes polarizing personality, he is almost impossible to hate, but that’s not all of it.
The stupid thing about the two of them is that their breakup wasn’t even bad. Other breakups, with people Hongjoong hadn’t even liked as much as Wooyoung, had hurt more. This was a we’re still friends breakup, and after it happened they got drunk together on Hongjoong’s living room floor and laughed until it felt like a workout. Wooyoung screamed, but Wooyoung always screams.
The hurt came later. Maybe the soft breakup was part of the reason the hurt came like it did. They made out a couple times while they were drunk, and the difference now was that Hongjoong wasn’t trying to be a good boyfriend. He wasn’t trying to be a boyfriend at all.
He didn’t see it until much, much later: the ache in Wooyoung, put there by the ache in Hongjoong.
Yunho has a bit of a tenderhearted cry when he meets Minho’s cats. One of them won’t let him do more than pet it on the head, but the others are happy with his attention. “They don’t know anything of the world,” Yunho says brokenly, his long body nearly folded around the cat he’s holding.
“I don’t think that’s true. At least one of them was a stray.”
Yunho lets out a sob. Hongjoong takes a couple photos for Minho, so he’ll know his cats are being cared for and cherished.
They have lunch delivered to Minho’s apartment so they can stay and play with the cats for a while. While they’re eating, Yunho studies a couple of the photos taped up on the wall. There’s one of Minho and Chan with someone Hongjoong doesn’t know, and there’s another with Minho and his dance friends.
“So weird,” Yunho mutters, referring to San and Wooyoung. In the photo he’s looking at, San has his head on Wooyoung’s shoulder, a content, almost angelic smile on his face.
Hongjoong hums. “Did Seonghwa tell you they still hang out with Yeosang?”
Yunho’s ears go pink. “Mhm.” He takes a bite of his food and dares Hongjoong with his eyes to try and make him talk. “He seemed to think we could see him, but I don’t know why. What would we be hanging out with San and Wooyoung for?”
Hongjoong shrugs. “I don’t know, but I took the train with Wooyoung the other day after dinner, and that was fine.”
“Really?” Yunho studies him. “I thought he would be the petty type.”
Hongjoong shifts uncomfortably. He doesn’t talk about this. He’s never even told Seonghwa about the specifics of his and Wooyoung’s breakup, or the fight they had later. He can’t face his fear of being looked at and revealed to be a bad person. He can’t say he thinks the reason Wooyoung doesn’t hate him might just be because Wooyoung pities him, and that this might be worse, so he has to choose not to think about it.
“Are you okay?” asks Yunho.
Hongjoong startles out of his almost-brooding. “I’m fine. Just thinking.” He clears his throat a little. “He didn’t seem petty. He didn’t even really seem upset.”
“Were you upset?”
This question makes Hongjoong let out a loud groan. “No,” he whines. “I’ve never been upset in my life about anything.” He lets himself fall forward until his face nudges into Yunho’s shoulder, then sits back up as soon as he feels the message of his petulance has set in.
“Okay, hyung.” Yunho’s tone is amused, but Hongjoong can tell he doesn’t believe him. That’s okay. He is Kim Hongjoong, and Kim Hongjoong is always fine.
Kim Hongjoong is decidedly less fine seeing Wooyoung dance.
“Whoa,” he says at a particularly sharp set of footwork.
“Whoa!” Chan repeats, louder, enthusiastic.
The three of them got to the park late, so they’re on the edge of the crowd and at any given moment can only really see whoever’s in the part of the formation closest to them. Hongjoong’s exclamation just happens to coincide with this being Wooyoung.
When the next song starts, Wooyoung makes his way to center. His limbs look relaxed and comfortable even though he’s sweating and his body is heaving with labored breaths. Hongjoong wants to move so he can see better, and he follows the impulse, using the advantage of smallness to slither through the crowd.
Wooyoung has been dancing forever and ever. He’s always been good, and he’s better now, but even this is so different. He always does choreography that’s a little sexy because he suits it and he likes it, but something has changed. There’s a measure of confidence in his dancing that he didn’t have before, and it’s really fucking sexy. Sexy not because of the body rolls and hip thrusts and exposed throats and hooded eyes, though there are all of those things and more in abundance, but because of Wooyoung’s demeanor.
His hard work has paid off, Hongjoong thinks, in ways he couldn’t have foreseen.
The day is humid, and when the crowd thins out and they find the others, the first thing Hongjoong notices is that Wooyoung is dripping with sweat. Cool.
“Oh my god, Yeosang!” Seonghwa calls, making Chan startle from asking what everyone wants to eat.
Yeosang was approaching casually, but now he perks up. “Seonghwa-hyung!” he crows, crashing into Seonghwa. “Hongjoong-hyung!”
“Hey, Yeosang-ah,” Hongjoong says, letting Yeosang slip into his arms after his hug with Seonghwa.
Seonghwa beckons Yunho, who appears equal parts excited and flustered.
“Everyone is okay with chicken?” Chan asks. It’s clear that he has plenty of experience corralling a big group of people.
“Chicken!” Yeosang cheers. He sees Yunho, and his eyes light up, and he cries again, “Chicken!” while he bounces over to throw his arms around Yunho’s neck.
Chan and Seonghwa graciously offer to treat all the dancers, and then when they get the chicken they rope Hongjoong into splitting it with them—something about his responsibility as a hyung.
Wooyoung sits on the ground next to Hongjoong. “Thanks for one-third of this chicken,” he says. “You’re very generous.”
Hongjoong pretends to study the chicken Wooyoung is holding. “Hmm. That’s definitely Seonghwa chicken.”
“I retract my gratitude, then.” Wooyoung finishes his bite and leans back on his hands. “What did you think?”
“You were great,” Hongjoong says. It comes out with more sincerity than he thought it would. He clears his throat. “I wasn’t sure if an outdoor performance would have the same effect as a stage, but there was actually a really interesting energy.”
“You’re right,” Wooyoung says. He looks at Hongjoong thoughtfully. “That energy always does something for me."
“Yeah. I could tell.”
Wooyoung grins, his eyebrows furrowing a little with humor.
“You have a different energy too.” Apparently Hongjoong is running his mouth today.
“Yeah?” Wooyoung takes another piece of chicken.
“Yeah. I can tell you’re more confident. It works for you.”
“Thanks,” says Wooyoung. He studies Hongjoong with something that looks like curiosity. “That means a lot, actually. Since you’ve seen me dance so much.”
“Yeah,” Hongjoong says. “I mean, sure.”
A couple meters away Yeji, another one of the dancers, makes Seonghwa laugh so hard he almost collapses into Chan’s lap. Hongjoong realizes he’s staring at them with a smile on his face when Wooyoung moves in his peripheral vision and Hongjoong sees him watching.
The self-consciousness is a surprise. Wooyoung is the only person who can look at Hongjoong looking at Seonghwa and see a little of what he’s thinking, and that’s terrifying. He has to watch himself.
Wooyoung doesn’t say anything.
Chan and Seonghwa and a couple of the others decide to go out for drinks when the sun starts to go down; Hongjoong begs off.
“I still need to go over to Minho’s and feed the cats.”
“Can I come?” Wooyoung asks.
He’s asking Hongjoong. Hongjoong blinks.
“I need to be petting a cat right the fuck now,” Wooyoung emphasizes.
“Uh—yeah, sure,” says Hongjoong. So they leave. Just the two of them.
Wooyoung pets the cats while Hongjoong checks their food and water. “Do you think the torch is still burning?” he asks, calling into the kitchen where Hongjoong is refilling the cats’ water.
“Huh?”
“Yunho.”
Hongjoong laughs to himself. “He looked like he couldn’t breathe when he saw Yeosang.”
“And the chicken thing,” Wooyoung laughs. “I thought he was going to cry.”
“Cute.” Hongjoong sits on the couch, in front of where Wooyoung is petting the cats on the floor.
The apartment is quiet, and every second neither of them says something Hongjoong feels an awkwardness thicken in the air. “How long have you known Minho and Chan and everyone?” he asks, gesturing to the picture Yunho was looking at when they were here last week.
“A year and a half? Two years? I don’t know,” Wooyoung says. “San met Hyunjin first. The choreographer they were working with kept trying to pit them against each other for the same parts. But they weren’t interested in competing with each other. They just became friends instead.” A fond smile rests on his face.
“That sounds like San.”
“Yeah.” Wooyoung pushes himself up onto the couch. “So. Chan and Seonghwa tried to set you up with Minho, right?”
“How did you know that?”
“I remembered the other day. Minho was saying Chan wanted to set him up with his boyfriend’s friend. Thought it must have been you.”
“Yeah.”
One of the cats jumps up onto the couch in between them. Hongjoong reaches over to pet the cat, but Wooyoung has done the same, and their hands brush. Hongjoong jerks back.
“I’m not going to bite you,” Wooyoung says, rolling his eyes at Hongjoong’s reaction.
Hongjoong tries to laugh, but it gets caught in his throat, and he coughs to dislodge it. “I don’t know. You’ve been known to bite.”
Wooyoung looks unimpressed. “You’re kind of a dumbass.”
“Yeah,” Hongjoong agrees. “Anyway. Be careful out there, Wooyoung-ah. One day your best friend is trying to set you up with a guy and the next, you’re feeding his cats for him.”
Wooyoung snorts. Silence descends again, but this time Hongjoong isn’t as desperate to claw it apart.
“So, is this going to be a thing?”
Hongjoong looks over, but Wooyoung is looking at the cats. “Is what going to be a thing?”
Wooyoung gestures between them. “Seeing each other. Hanging out. Ending up at the same things.”
Hongjoong’s muscles tense. His impulse is to be defensive. “You asked to come here with me.”
Wooyoung shoots him a look. “I know. That’s not what I mean.”
One drop of shame colors Hongjoong’s response. “If you don’t want me to be around, I’ll stop coming.” He has no gauge for how Wooyoung feels; just because he doesn’t have any bad will for Wooyoung doesn’t mean Wooyoung doesn’t for him.
“I don’t mean that either.” Wooyoung shifts so his legs are tucked under him and he can face Hongjoong better. “Last time we talked wasn’t really pleasant.”
He’s right. Hongjoong isn’t sure what to say.
“I was harsh,” Wooyoung says. “I don’t remember everything, but I remember a lot of it, and I know I was mean to you.”
It’s a thought that happens in less than half a moment: thank god Jung Wooyoung isn’t cruel. But that isn’t right. There’s no one to thank but Wooyoung, and Hongjoong’s not gonna do that.
He swallows around something uncomfortable that he can’t dislodge. “I deserved it then.”
Wooyoung doesn’t say anything to that, but he looks like maybe he hasn’t decided if he agrees. The cat on his lap hops down, and he makes a petulant little noise. He settles more comfortably into the cushions of the couch. His hair is messy from dancing and sweating, but it looks so good.
“What do you think of Chan?”
“Isn’t he your friend?”
“So? I’m asking what you think, not what I think.”
It kind of feels like a test. Maybe Wooyoung, like other friends of Chan’s, is prepared to tear apart anyone who says a bad word about him. Hongjoong almost wouldn’t blame him.
“Chan is amazing,” he says, completely truthful. “Like, it’s Seonghwa, so of course if Chan hurts him I’ll react accordingly, but I think I’d be really surprised if Chan did hurt him.” He shrugs. “I like him a lot, too. I think he’s Seonghwa’s perfect boyfriend.”
It takes a minute for Wooyoung to respond. “He is a really good guy,” he agrees. Then asks, “Seonghwa’s perfect boyfriend, huh?”
Hongjoong wants to ask him not to do this. He can’t do this at all. The only person he’s ever talked to about it is Wooyoung, and in many ways, he thought he’d never be made to talk about it again after the fight that made Wooyoung quit talking to him.
Wooyoung saw him looking at Seonghwa earlier. He hasn’t forgotten it.
“Are you... doing okay?”
The sincerity of the question makes Hongjoong’s spine tingle. He wriggles in his seat. “Ugh. Don’t do that.”
Wooyoung laughs loudly. “Sorry.”
Hongjoong huffs. “I’m fine. You?”
“Fine,” Wooyoung repeats.
It's sprinkling when the two of them leave Minho's apartment. Hongjoong takes the umbrella by the door and holds it for both of them until they leave the station at their stop. Then he hands it to Wooyoung, who doesn't protest.
"Maybe I could come by the bar sometime," Wooyoung says. He got a little wet, even with the umbrella, and damp strands of hair stick to his face.
"Huh?"
"You said Minho keeps you company at work. Can I keep you company sometime?"
Wooyoung's expression reads serious, but Hongjoong can hardly believe he's asking this. Then again, he is the one who insisted on accompanying Hongjoong to feed the cats today.
"Yeah. If you want."
"Okay. See you soon, then."
"See you soon." Saying this and giving Wooyoung his KaTalk ID then going their separate ways almost feels binding. Then again, it's Wooyoung. So maybe it is.
Minho gets back a couple days later. He's tired, but he had a good time, he says when they have dinner with Seonghwa and Chan.
After they eat, Seonghwa wants something sweet. Hongjoong and Minho find a place to sit in the park while Chan and Seonghwa head off in search of dessert for them.
"So you dated Wooyoung," Minho says conversationally.
Hongjoong glares at him.
"Oh," says Minho. "Sorry. I didn't realize it was something you didn't talk about."
Hongjoong deflates. "No, it's fine. I think Wooyoung and I are fine, actually. It's just weird."
"That's fair."
"Why do you ask?" Hongjoong asks. He's saying it almost before it occurs to him: "Do you like him?"
Minho snorts. "No."
"Just checking," Hongjoong shrugs, some embarrassment setting in.
"He's hot, though."
Hongjoong lets out a long breath. "He looks so good."
Minho laughs, and in the moment of lightheartedness Hongjoong almost lets himself think that things can become normal for him. He can live more and stop complicating things for himself. Then Chan and Seonghwa come into sight, holding two containers of patbingsu each, smiling and laughing with each other.
They look so happy. Seonghwa looks so happy. Hongjoong wants that happiness for him, but he also can't keep guilt from setting in as he thinks how beautiful Seonghwa looks like this. He wants Seonghwa to be happy, and he is also—still—in love with him.
The biggest problem with this is that Hongjoong realized it while he was dating Wooyoung. The expression Wooyoung used about the two of them was in each other's metaphorical emotional pockets, and it was right, in its way. They were best friends long before and stayed best friends long after, and they did kind of live in each other's pockets.
Hongjoong needs caring for in good times, and the time he spent at university was decidedly a bad time. Maybe things would have been different if it hadn't been so hard for him, but it was. When he was going, he ran on an energy that felt manic. He had fun with Wooyoung and he crashed, and Seonghwa took care of him.
"Hey, so," Wooyoung said one day when they were both lying on Hongjoong's bedroom floor and he was using his finger to draw pretend shapes on the ceiling. "Do you have feelings for Seonghwa?"
Hongjoong was silent.
Wooyoung read the silence correctly. "Are you in love with him?"
"I think so," Hongjoong said. He was sleepy and a little sexed-out, too honest. "I think I still am. Sorry."
A moment of silence, and then, "It's okay."
They did not break up.
Something about Wooyoung delights Yongsun, the bar manager. She's been known to kick out anyone waiting around to talk to the bartenders if they need the space, but tonight even when people are looking for seats at the bar she doesn't tell Wooyoung to leave.
"She likes you better than me," Hongjoong glares.
Wooyoung laughs, pleased. "I'm very likable."
"That's true."
This is just objective, but his response makes Wooyoung lean forward, chin on his hands, with a smile. "This place is actually really cool."
"I think so," Hongjoong agrees. The atmosphere is mostly calm. It's a good place for drinking and talking. That's what Wooyoung is here for, he supposes, though he doesn't know where to start. So he asks, "What did you do today?"
"Taught a few kids dance classes," Wooyoung says. "Then we had our practice, but we're just learning new choreo right now. I went rock climbing after."
Hongjoong raises his eyebrows. "Rock climbing?"
"Yeah! There's a facility really close to the studio we use. I go by when I can." Wooyoung gives him a smile that sets off an alarm for Hongjoong. "You didn't notice my arms?"
Hongjoong noticed his arms.
"What are you talking about?" he says, blinking exaggeratedly.
Here is a problem: Hongjoong doesn't know how to not flirt with Wooyoung. Half the time it doesn't even feel intentional. It's just part of the way they communicate. That should be a problem now, right?
Wooyoung flirts, too. It lights Hongjoong up inside and out.
Yunho takes Yeosang on a date. He doesn't tell Hongjoong and Seonghwa about it until after the fact, and they don't stop yelling for at least five minutes.
Hongjoong sends Wooyoung a message: why didn't you tell me Yunho and Yeosang were going on a date???
He doesn't see Wooyoung's reply until later.
THEY WHAT?
Wooyoung fits back into Hongjoong’s life like a friend, not like the petty ex Hongjoong might have expected from him years ago. Somewhere, sometime, Hongjoong wakes up to it and realizes he missed Wooyoung. He might not have been in love with him, but he liked him. He liked him a lot.
They had fun together. They have fun together now. It isn’t just the playful flirting, either. It’s how hard Wooyoung laughs at Hongjoong when he probably doesn’t deserve it for just being silly. He’s sweet, sour, spicy, prickly, and he fits perfectly. And he doesn’t bring up the thing with Seonghwa, until he does.
He’s taken Hongjoong rock climbing with him.
Hongjoong never goes out during the weekdays before he has to be at work. Seonghwa mostly doesn’t ask, because he knows better, and Yunho sometimes comes over anyway but he doesn’t have a problem with Hongjoong lying around the whole time. But he doesn’t go anywhere, much less to expend the kind of energy he has to for rock climbing.
Yet he goes. Wooyoung pretends to bother him into it, but the truth is he didn’t need to.
Afterward, Hongjoong is trying to catch his breath, rubbing his hands over his jelly legs.
“Did you ever tell Seonghwa?” Wooyoung asks.
Hongjoong looks at him sharply. “What? No.”
Wooyoung almost looks surprised at the way his question made Hongjoong snap shut. “Sorry. I was just wondering.”
“No, sorry. It’s okay,” Hongjoong says awkwardly. “You can ask. It’s fair that you ask.”
Wooyoung hesitates at that. Then he says, “So, that whole thing... it’s not over for you, is it?”
Hongjoong could try to lie, but Wooyoung has seen him looking at Seonghwa. “No. It’s not.” It’s not his fault, is it, that he’s still in love with someone who’s with someone else? He’s certain it isn’t, but at the same time it’s a fact that makes him feel so vulnerable he wants to wriggle out of his own skin.
Wooyoung stands. He holds out his hand to help Hongjoong up. “Come on. You can buy me lunch.”
“You can buy me lunch,” says Hongjoong.
He buys Wooyoung lunch.
Hongjoong gets sick, and then even after he gets better he can’t stop sleeping all the time. He works and then goes to bed, eats a little after he wakes up and has a nap before work again.
He sleeps through the Saturday afternoon he was supposed to go to the arcade with Yunho and Yeosang. He declines going out the next day, so Seonghwa brings him food and that’s almost worse. Hongjoong rolls around and groans about being tired and Seonghwa is too nice to him.
During his bout of tiredness, Minho and Wooyoung come to the bar during one of his shifts. Hongjoong finds that together they’re fun and loud and that night, he sleeps better than he has in a while.
By now, Chan and Seonghwa and their other friends have stopped acting like Hongjoong and Wooyoung are a time bomb when they’re together. No one even looks at them funny when they show up together at the noraebang. It’s not weird, anyway; they live close by each other. Why shouldn’t they come together?
It’s been a while since Hongjoong has gone to a noraebang, and he’s pretty sure the last time he did he sang a ballad that made him cry. Today he will get fun-drunk and laugh and feel good.
He starts off hot, mangling a trot song that is otherwise sung beautifully by Seungmin, though he doesn’t seem to mind. Then he and Mingi and Jongho perform a Monsta X song that Jongho knows all the choreo for. It’s beautiful. Rousing.
Hongjoong takes a short break after the third song he’s pulled into. He’s in the middle of a conversation with Minho and Felix, happy and three drinks in, when he realizes Wooyoung has been draped over him for at least a few minutes.
He doesn’t mind physical touch! He doesn’t. Not when he wants it, and apparently not when it happens so naturally he doesn’t notice it. Like this.
He doesn’t mind it! He just never imagined he and Wooyoung would be like this.
Weirdly enough, it keeps happening. Hongjoong finds himself initiating too, more and more as he has more to drink, gets more excited from all the singing and bouncing around.
Seonghwa and Chan perform this ridiculous love song to each other. They’re not taking themselves seriously; they keep giggling, but it makes Hongjoong scream and cringe anyway. He throws himself onto Wooyoung impulsively; he and Wooyoung cringe and cackle together. Wooyoung boos them loudly, and Seonghwa shoots him finger hearts.
“Chan’s voice is really nice, what the hell,” Yunho says, and sends Hongjoong into another fit of giggles.
After Mingi and Minho’s moving rendition of Into the Unknown, Wooyoung gets Hongjoong to join him for Mamamoo’s HIP.
“I fucking love this song,” he says, eyes bright and excited.
It does seem that he loves this song. He knows the choreo.
It’s cute. And then it’s also really sexy.
Hongjoong keeps singing, and Wooyoung does too but he is also doing the choreo. So is Felix, and Minho is making an attempt, but Hongjoong barely clocks it because he can’t take his eyes off Wooyoung.
Wooyoung shrugs off the oversized button down he was wearing, and the shirt he had on underneath is sleeveless, so. There are his arms. Hongjoong’s mouth is dry.
It isn’t a ridiculous thing to want someone you’ve had sex with, right?
Because it’s in Hongjoong’s gut, and it’s in his chest, and almost certainly in his eyes too.
He shakes himself out of it when HIP is over and everyone is singing along to EXO. He gets an arm thrown around him again: Wooyoung.
He looks at Wooyoung, grinning. He looks at Yunho, at Seonghwa and Chan and Minho. They’re all so happy. He loves this feeling. When the dancing starts again, he claims he can’t dance and then joins in anyway.
He wiggles his butt a lot. It’s fun.
“You seem pretty happy lately,” Seonghwa says.
Hongjoong frowns. He accepts the tteokbokki Seonghwa is holding out to feed him. “My brain is medicated.”
Seonghwa gives him a little side-eye. “That doesn’t mean you’re happy. I’m just saying. You’ve just seemed good.”
Hongjoong considers that. He’s felt good. Even when he’s tired, it’s not the same kind of tired.
“Can you please stop looking like I’ve insulted you,” says Seonghwa. “I just like seeing you happy.”
Hongjoong feels himself softening as he looks at Seonghwa. His expression is so open, too hopeful to look directly at. “I like seeing you happy too,” he manages.
Seonghwa grins. A moment goes by, and then he says, “You like having Wooyoung around, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” Hongjoong couldn’t deny that if he wanted to; it’s too obvious. “Isn’t that weird?”
“I don’t know. You guys were good together. I think it’s good that you’re not bitter exes.”
Seonghwa never asks. He never tries to get Hongjoong to tell him what happened after that last night, after the breakup, when he’d caught Hongjoong and Wooyoung making out, tangled up like they were both trying to get into the other’s lap. He’d taken Hongjoong home, drunk and flopping around, made sure he was okay, asked gently later why he was making out with his ex.
But he does not ask about the fight, and Hongjoong has never volunteered to talk about it, so that’s that.
It’s been on the tip of his tongue lately, though. When he sees Seonghwa and Chan together, happy and fitting like puzzle pieces, and thinks he doesn’t want that from Seonghwa. When he thinks maybe he’s not in love anymore, at least not the way he used to be, but he still wonders.
In each other’s metaphorical emotional pockets, he thinks.
It was apt. Even an understatement, maybe, because Hongjoong and Seonghwa had been planning their lives around each other since high school.
They wanted to live together after university. Seonghwa would cook. Hongjoong insisted he would clean, and Seonghwa made a placating noise— sure you will— but Seonghwa doesn’t trust other people to clean.
They wanted each other in waves, in volumes Hongjoong had never wanted someone before Seonghwa. In hindsight, he can’t believe it took him so long to realize he was in love.
Until a year after Seonghwa came out to him. Until he was clawing his way through school and depression. Until he was dating Wooyoung.
“You’re zoning out,” Seonghwa says. “Can I ask you if you’re okay, or will you try to fight me?”
“I think you know the answer to that.” Hongjoong hops into a mock-fighting stance. He does not know how to fight.
Moving is terrible and awful and Hongjoong swears up and down he will never do it again. He pants exaggeratedly in an attempt to mask how winded he actually is.
When the majority of his things are in the apartment, Hongjoong drops to the ground and refuses to move.
Seonghwa and Chan help him with this out of the goodness of their hearts (at least, out of the goodness of Chan’s heart; Seonghwa tried to get out of it), and Yunho helps because Hongjoong threatens him. He didn’t even ask Wooyoung, but Wooyoung apologizes for being busy anyway.
Hongjoong is hopping around with a frenetic energy and bothering Seonghwa, who is unpacking his kitchen and putting things in place for him, when the others come by.
It’s Minho, Yeosang, and Wooyoung.
“We brought you,” Yeosang pauses to calculate. “A total of forty-eight toilet rolls as a housewarming gift.”
“Thank you so much.” Hongjoong lets the mountain of toilet rolls be transferred from Yeosang’s arms to his.
Wooyoung holds up both hands, a bottle of wine in each. “And wine.” He nods at Minho. “There’s more where that came from.”
The chaos that happens with wine in the equation actually rolls along rather pleasantly. Hongjoong lets it catch him like a wave, metaphorically floating along as he literally lies in the middle of the floor while most of his friends sit in the living room drinking and talking and a couple busybodies put away all his stuff. He isn’t going to be able to find anything for days.
When the late evening comes Chan and Minho leave to meet up with Felix and Yunho and Yeosang go for dinner, and then it’s just the three of them left. Hongjoong doesn’t meet Wooyoung’s eye.
Seonghwa looks tired. He’s going through what little food Hongjoong had to bring over with him, but he doesn’t seem to find anything satisfactory. He straightens up to look at Hongjoong. “Don’t forget we have to go back over to clean and get your laptop and stuff.”
“Oh,” Hongjoong says. “No, Seonghwa, don’t worry about it. I can do it myself, you look tired.”
“I’ll go with you,” Wooyoung volunteers immediately. “Seonghwa-hyung, he’s right. You did like all the work today, you should go home.”
Hongjoong protests his thesis, but he nonetheless tells Seonghwa to leave.
Seonghwa does. Hongjoong sticks some money in his back pocket for dinner because he knows Seonghwa will refuse him if he tries to do anything too earnest.
The old apartment is a short walk from this one. He’s in the same area, but a little closer to the station. This time of year brings evenings that are chillier before, and Hongjoong shivers to himself.
“Should have brought a jacket,” Wooyoung says.
Hongjoong sticks out his tongue.
Cleaning is a more daunting task without Seonghwa here to head it up, but Wooyoung is eager to take charge in his place. They make quick work of it, and then lock up for the last time and head back with Hongjoong’s laptop and an assortment of books and cords.
“I like this place,” Wooyoung says, back in the new apartment. “More windows.”
“Me too,” Hongjoong agrees. The windows were part of why he chose it. It’s not bigger than his old place, but it has a better feel.
“I kind of envy your kitchen.” This is where Wooyoung has disappeared. He comes back with a fresh glass of wine.
“I’ll never use it.”
“I know.”
“Seonghwa will.”
Wooyoung is quiet for a second. “Maybe I could sometime.”
Hongjoong gives him an innocent look. “Why, what’s wrong with yours? Did you already burn it down?”
“Yah!” Wooyoung yells. “I’m very good in the kitchen! I can cook!”
Hongjoong believes him.
He lies on the floor again.
“Why are you lying on the floor?”
Hongjoong doesn’t answer. He just splays his limbs wider.
Wooyoung lies next to him. A moment goes by. He says, “I thought maybe I’d understand if I did it too, but it’s not very comfortable.”
“Neither is being a human.”
“You’ve got me there.”
When Hongjoong turns his head, Wooyoung is looking at him. He looks happy. There’s something about his teeth. The set of his mouth.
Nothing about it is loaded. There’s no reason for it, really. Hongjoong’s gut just pools with want.
It’s trouble the second Hongjoong does it, the kind of trouble he can only get into when he’s still this side of sober and his mind can go racing. He still does it. Still presses his mouth to Wooyoung’s.
Wooyoung kisses him back. It’s perfunctory. It makes Hongjoong’s stomach go sour as Wooyoung pulls back and sits up.
“No,” Wooyoung says, not mean, but firm.
“Fuck.” Hongjoong sits up, too. “Fuck. Sorry, Wooyoung-ah. I shouldn’t have just done that.”
Wooyoung is oddly still. “Yeah,” he says after an uncomfortable beat. “It’s fine, Hongjoong-hyung, but I have to go.”
He goes to the door and starts putting his shoes on, and Hongjoong lets him. He says “I’m sorry,” one more time before Wooyoung is out the door.
That’s that.
He doesn’t know if he should assume their plans the coming week are canceled. Wooyoung would probably tell him if they were, so Hongjoong plods along as if it is going to happen like normal.
Noon the day they’re supposed to hang out finds him lying the wrong way across his bed, freshly showered and half-dressed. He lets out a long, frustrated wail.
His phone pings with a KaTalk notification from Wooyoung. Hongjoong holds his breath for him to be backing out of lunch, but instead the message says I’m at the station where are u.
Hongjoong’s mood improves so quickly it’s sickening. He sends Wooyoung a selfie of him lying on his bed and says just showered sry.
He gets a call.
“Embarrassing,” Wooyoung says the second Hongjoong picks up. “You should be embarrassed.”
“Don’t be mean, I’m tired,” Hongjoong whines at him. His relief at being able to bicker with Wooyoung is palpable.
Wooyoung ends up coming to his apartment. Hongjoong is just about ready to go by the time he gets there, but Wooyoung sits on his bed anyway.
“Wear the fluffy jacket. It’s cute.”
Hongjoong wears the fluffy jacket.
They’re halfway to the daily market when Wooyoung tells him to stop being weird. “Stop being weird,” he says. “Everything’s fine.”
Hongjoong glares at him. Wooyoung says it’s fine, which means he hasn’t damaged their relationship, which means by all accounts it should be fine. But he doesn’t feel fine. He wants to keep moping. He wants to be upset. He can’t put his finger on why.
He’s so out of it that he doesn’t notice when Wooyoung pays for their food. For some reason this is more of an offense than it normally would be, so he pouts a little.
“I would have left you at home if I knew you’d be this moody,” Wooyoung marvels. He feeds Hongjoong a bite of bindaetteok.
Wooyoung has to go teach a dance class after lunch, but Hongjoong stays out by himself and heads for Hangang Park.
The melancholy he’s been feeling sets in once he’s there. He’s alone, clutching at the sides of his fluffy jacket, and he tries to see what’s been going on in his brain that needs unscrambling. It feels like this game they played once, where Yeosang and Mingi and Yunho shouted syllables all at the same time and he had to fit them together into something that made sense. Suppose he can fit all of this together somehow; suppose it will form something coherent.
Falling out of love with Seonghwa seems wrong. It’s been so many years that it must be part of him right now. If it goes away, will it take parts of him that got too tangled up with it for a clean removal? Will he be different?
How can he let go of loving the person he wanted to build his whole life around?
He thinks it and he doesn’t come up with any answers. He doesn’t think about Wooyoung, and he doesn’t not think about Wooyoung, either.
Summer is well and truly over. The air has a bite of chill in it and the sun goes down much sooner now.
The dance troupe still does their outdoor performances, in the evening while they still have just enough light.
“You look cute,” Minho tells him when he joins him where he’s sitting on the ground, waiting to begin.
Hongjoong looks down at his outfit. “I always look cute.”
Minho sticks out his tongue.
It’s the first time he gets to see Minho perform with the others, and it’s very good. Minho is very good. The first choreo they perform is more powerful than anything Hongjoong saw last time, and all of them kill it. Including Wooyoung.
Tonight by the time they have a picnic dinner ready for all of them, Wooyoung has found Hongjoong and draped himself over his side. He’s sweaty, but the sun is going down and the breeze is cool, so if he didn’t insist on pressing his body to Hongjoong’s maybe it would be a little better.
Hongjoong says as much. Wooyoung just grins and hugs him closer. He has been acting very normal with Hongjoong. If it were anyone else, he might call it aggressively normal, but Wooyoung has this way of doing things nonchalantly even though he does not seem like the sort of person who can be nonchalant.
He wriggles out of Wooyoung’s grip and crawls along the ground to get to Seonghwa and beg for some mini gimbap.
Yeji is the one who starts the random play dance. Felix joins her, and in minutes Seonghwa has broken out his secretly perfect Dance the Night Away choreo. This is met with shock and delight. Chan looks awestruck, which makes Hongjoong laugh out loud and catch a grinning Wooyoung’s eye.
“They’re so embarrassing, I’m embarrassed,” Hongjoong tells Wooyoung. The twilight has descended into real nighttime while he wasn’t paying attention, harder to notice with all the lights surrounding them.
Wooyoung agrees. He watches Yeosang where he’s riding his skateboard down the path, then stopping to make Yunho try. Mingi is wandering over to join them, but by the time he’s got one foot on the board both San and Seonghwa are rushing over to stop him. Wooyoung laughs.
The two of them end up in a small circle with Seonghwa, Chan, and Minho. Minho and Wooyoung are answering questions about dance stuff: Wooyoung is about to start teaching another more advanced class; Minho is going to be on another short leg of a tour soon; Hyunjin and San went viral on TikTok.
Hongjoong listens, lying with his head on Seonghwa’s leg and his legs over Wooyoung’s lap. He gets to stay like this for about five minutes; then Wooyoung is pushing his legs off none too gently and leaving to go over to San.
He sits up, which pulls him away from Seonghwa, and he doesn’t make a move to get closer again. He also doesn’t let himself look over at Wooyoung more than once. It’s irrational for him to smart at Wooyoung abandoning him, and so he puts it right out of his mind. He and Chan both talk Yeosang into helping them skate, which ends in both triumph and pain plus a minor injury on Chan’s end.
“Falling is an art,” Hongjoong lectures when Yeosang marvels that he isn’t bruised or bleeding after the falls he’s taken. “I have mastered it.”
He manages to skate a ways down the path and comes back shouting, “I’ve reached my final form!” then takes a spill right onto his butt. Yeosang is laughing, so Hongjoong tells him, “I am going to make you look at any bruises that form back there.”
“Please keep that to yourself,” Yeosang says, nose wrinkled. He helps Hongjoong up. Then he and Yunho leave with San and Wooyoung. Wooyoung says goodbye but he barely gives Hongjoong a squeeze on the arm.
Hongjoong does not pout.
Seonghwa doesn’t go out much on weeknights, so when he shows up at the bar on a Thursday it’s a surprise.
“Oh,” Hongjoong says. “What are you doing here?”
“Minho said you were moping last time he was here.” Hongjoong tries to protest, but Seonghwa cuts him off. “No, I noticed it too. He’s right, you’re being mopey, and you can’t escape me, so you’re gonna tell me about it.”
It’s nice of Seonghwa to notice and care, Hongjoong supposes. He just isn’t sure where to start.
“I don’t know,” he says.
“You don’t know what?”
“What’s bothering me.”
Seonghwa studies him. “Are you sure?”
Hongjoong doesn’t answer. He makes Seonghwa a drink.
“You’re allowed to have feelings.”
Hongjoong tears his eyes from the glass he set in front of Seonghwa and looks at his face. A dry laugh leaves him. “Not having feelings was never the problem.”
Seonghwa’s eyes go guarded. It makes something sour trickle down Hongjoong’s esophagus, into his stomach where it lands heavy and wrong.
“Do you know?” he asks even as he’s wondering it to himself.
“Do I know what?” says Seonghwa. He sounds like he knows exactly what Hongjoong is asking.
“Do you know I... loved you like that?” The words are easier to say than he had imagined, but once they’re out his consciousness tells him it wants to draw back. He wants to retreat, even as the closure in Seonghwa’s expression cracks open.
“I didn’t have anything more than an idea,” Seonghwa says.
Hongjoong looks away. A customer approaches the bar. He moves away wordlessly to get their drink order.
“It’s not really the best time to talk about this,” he says when he rejoins Seonghwa. His voice is clear and strong in a way he doesn’t feel. “You should go home, Seonghwa-yah.”
“Hongjoong-ah,” Seonghwa begins.
Hongjoong interrupts. “Seonghwa, no. I’m not upset, but I can’t do this now. We’ll talk later.”
Seonghwa looks hurt, and he leaves, and Hongjoong does not have a very good night.
Hongjoong waits as long as he can make himself before talking to anyone about what happened with Seonghwa. He calls Wooyoung one day, during the time he knows Wooyoung has free between classes he teaches. Wooyoung does not pick up.
He texts Hongjoong later: did you need something?
Hongjoong embraces the pettiness he’s feeling and says no. Less than a minute later Wooyoung is calling him.
“Oh, are you talking to me now?” he bites out when he picks up.
“I’m about to not be if you’re going to be like that,” says Wooyoung. “Is something the matter with you?”
“No, I’m fine. Nothing has ever been wrong with me, in my life.”
“Okay, well. You wanna buy me an iced americano?”
“No.”
Hongjoong buys Wooyoung an iced americano. He warns him that it’s chilly, and Wooyoung says he prefers ice anyway, and then Wooyoung complains about his hands being cold. Honestly, it’s kind of nice.
“So, what’s all this about?” Wooyoung asks after a bit. “Are you still being weird about kissing me?”
“What? No,” Hongjoong squawks, even though this isn’t strictly true. “I talked to Seonghwa,” he finds himself saying, finally. He’s colder than he’d like to be. He wants to go back to the coffee shop and get something to warm his hands. Wooyoung’s, too; he’s got his shoved in his pockets, shoulders lifted against the chill of the late afternoon.
Wooyoung says, “Like. Talked to him?”
“It wasn’t much of a conversation,” Hongjoong admits. “I told him I loved him. And then I made him leave.”
Wooyoung whips his head around to look at him. “You what?”
“We were at the bar!” Hongjoong rushes to say. “I was working! It was not the time or place.”
“When was this?”
“Thursday.”
“Have you talked to him more since then?”
Hongjoong lets a moment of silence pass.
“Hongjoong-hyung,” Wooyoung says in dismay. “It’s been days. What are you doing?”
“I’m just being myself!” He huffs. “Just living life.” He kicks at a rock on the ground. It hurts his toes. “Minho offered to have sex with me to make me feel better. I’m not sure if he was joking.”
Wooyoung snorts. “There’s probably a fifty-fifty chance depending on when you ask.” He hits Hongjoong on the arm with his empty coffee cup. “You’re kind of messy, you know that?”
Hongjoong lets out a whoosh of breath. “I don’t know. I think I saved all of my messy for you.” He pushes himself off the railing he was leaning on and follows as Wooyoung marches to a refuse bin to throw away his cup.
“This is messed up,” Wooyoung mutters. “You need to talk to Seonghwa.” He sits down, and when Hongjoong sits next to him Wooyoung lets out a loud, despairing wail.
Hongjoong startles away from him. “What is that?”
“I hate this,” Wooyoung yells. “This is ridiculous. Everything is ridiculous.”
Hongjoong is not following. “What? What’s ridiculous?”
“You! You idiot. Asshole.”
“What have I done?” Hongjoong cries.
Wooyoung huffs. He straightens his back and fixes his sitting position, legs crossed. “Remember when you kissed me?”
“Wait,” says Hongjoong. “So you are mad about that?”
“No,” says Wooyoung. Then, “Yeah. Listen. I would—fucking—I would kiss you if you wanted. I would probably even have casual sex with you if you wanted. It’s ridiculous and I hate it, but I like you.”
Hongjoong’s jaw drops. “What?”
“Dumbass.” Wooyoung looks for a split second like he might be genuinely uncomfortable. Then he says again, “I like you.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
Wooyoung laughs, and there is some real humor in it. “The same thing that was always wrong with me, I guess. I always liked you, Hongjoong-hyung. Even when you broke up with me, I still liked you.”
Hongjoong’s impulse is to make a joke. “Wow,” he says weakly. “You... Minho... I had no idea I was so in demand.”
Wooyoung lets him get away with it. “Wait until I tell Minho how bitey you are.”
“Fifty-fifty chance he’d be into that.”
Wooyoung hums in agreement.
Hongjoong doesn’t know what to say with Wooyoung’s revelation thrumming through him. He gets a familiar pang of want, and by now he’s used to experiencing that want for Wooyoung again. He just doesn’t know if he should say it.
“I will not respond to any requests for elaboration,” Wooyoung warns before Hongjoong’s jumpy insides come up with anything to say.
“Understood,” he says. “Thanks.”
“For what?” There’s a warning in Wooyoung’s voice; the answer would be for telling me, but Hongjoong might get verbally eviscerated if he says that.
He kicks at Wooyoung’s shin. “The coffee you’re going to buy me. I’m freezing.”
They do have coffee again. Hongjoong warms his hands on his, but Wooyoung gets another iced americano that gives him this jittery, excitable energy. The cafe they land at has playing cards and board games, so Hongjoong and Wooyoung play. As they sit it starts to rain, and they stay a long time.
Hongjoong stops putting off talking to Seonghwa, mostly because Wooyoung threatens him and calls him names. He brings food to Seonghwa's apartment and when they sit down he can tell Seonghwa is concerned about him and working hard not to let it show. It does anyway.
"I'm sorry for being weird," he forces out.
Seonghwa studies him. "You were acting really weird."
"I know." Hongjoong has imagined having this conversation a few times. But holy hell, did he underestimate how much it sucks for things to be so off-kilter with his best friend in the world. He and Seonghwa have always been easy.
"We don't have to talk about what you said," says Seonghwa.
This tempts Hongjoong.
"I want to talk about it," Seonghwa clarifies. "But if you can't do that right now, it's okay."
Being treated delicately makes Hongjoong want to shout or collapse on the floor and roll around in agony. He feels small. He feels microscopic.
"No," he says. "It's fine." Then he straightens his back and shoulders, shrugs, and says, "I just loved you. I still love you, but." He's out of breath suddenly. He breathes in short little huffs. "Yeah. I was in love with you. I'm not sure if I'm totally not in love with you yet."
Seonghwa waits to see if he's going to say anything more. When he doesn't, he nods slowly. "Okay," he says. His voice is notably steady. "Is there anything else you want to say before I respond to that?"
There is. Hongjoong leans on his palms and lets it out. "Seonghwa. I've thought about it so much, and I don't feel like you just... plan your future like that with someone you don't have feelings for," he forces out. "It was like that for me, at least. I don't know if you ever felt that way. I don't know if I want to know."
"I did," Seonghwa says, so much simpler than Hongjoong ever imagined it could be. "You were the only thing for me then."
An ugly noise rips out of Hongjoong's throat. He finds himself grabbing at his chest.
Seonghwa reaches out. He takes the hand at Hongjoong's chest and sets it on the table. He makes Hongjoong uncurl his fingers, presses his hand palm-down to the tabletop. "There's not just one thing, Hongjoong-ah," he says. "We're both going to be happy."
Hongjoong cries a little, then. He hates it, but he does. He doesn't move the hand Seonghwa placed on the table, but he hides his forehead in the palm of the other, takes deep breaths, braces himself to wait it out.
And Seonghwa knows him, knows him, knows him, endlessly, because he doesn't try to talk to him or hold him, he just lets two of his fingertips sit on two of Hongjoong's. He waits, too.
"I am happy," Hongjoong croaks. It comes out like despair, and it makes Seonghwa do that thing where his face twists into laughter that looks like he's in pain. Hongjoong loves him so goddamn much.
"I know," says Seonghwa. "Happy, moody Hongjoong."
Hongjoong swats at him. His jaw aches. He lets out a tiny sob and sits back in his chair. "I brought all this damn food," he says. "Let's eat."
Seonghwa lets Hongjoong clean himself up. He busies himself with unpacking and reheating food, getting them dishes and utensils.
"I might want Wooyoung."
Seonghwa looks up from the container of jjajangmyeon he's opening. He laughs. "Yeah, you might."
Hongjoong goes home tired. His body tells him he’s still experiencing a lot of feelings, but he doesn’t think about them until he’s alone, and it’s quiet.
Then Hongjoong cries in this stupid, silent, unending stream, hiding his face against his knee.
He’s not mourning, but he isn’t not sad. The house he and Seonghwa built in their time and their words and their feelings isn’t empty, but he can’t live there.
Crying makes him feel better. He hasn’t lost Seonghwa. He hasn’t lost anything. He wants Wooyoung to be there.
He calls Wooyoung.
The call almost goes to voicemail before Wooyoung picks up at the last second. “Can I help you?”
“You can buy me an ice cream,” Hongjoong says.
“You can buy me an ice cream,” Wooyoung offers. Generous.
“I’ll buy yours if you buy mine.”
They buy each other ice cream. Wooyoung tells Hongjoong he’s gonna make his toppings more expensive. He does, but Hongjoong doesn’t let him win without a fight.
He tells Minho everything.
He includes a brief version of the Seonghwa parts, half expecting for Minho to tear into him over having feelings for his best friend’s boyfriend. Minho does not do this, of course. He lets Hongjoong talk and then he says,
“Well, yeah, it sounds like you have feelings for Wooyoung.”
This is true and it’s also not shocking. Hongjoong has known he wants Wooyoung in some way pretty much since they found themselves in each other’s lives again. He just didn’t expect it to become all the ways it now is.
“I mean, yeah,” he says. “I definitely do.”
“It doesn’t seem that far-fetched that he might have feelings for you too,” says Minho. “You two spend a lot of time together. Like, weirdly a lot. I almost wouldn’t believe you were exes if you told me now.”
“Oh,” Hongjoong says. “He does like me. He told me.”
Minho stares. “Then what the hell are you doing talking to me?”
Hongjoong lets out a wahhhhh that makes Minho look at him, unimpressed. “I was not a good boyfriend to him.” He emphasizes, “I was a bad boyfriend.”
This may not have been strictly accurate, but it’s true enough now. It’s right in the ways that matter. Because Wooyoung loved Hongjoong, but Hongjoong was too busy simmering in the addictive, bittersweet angst of his unrequited feelings that he never even considered loving Wooyoung back.
And that’s fucked up! It’s fucked up, Hongjoong thinks, that he didn’t even think he hurt Wooyoung when he broke up with him. He didn’t think he hurt Wooyoung until they fought later, when Wooyoung hurt him.
How can Wooyoung like him now? Again?
How can Hongjoong expect Wooyoung to want to be in a relationship with him again?
“Cool, well,” Minho is saying. “Maybe you should consider that Wooyoung would probably bite you for presuming to know how he would respond to your feelings, and also that if he told you he has feelings for you he means for you to know about it.”
He finds it annoying that Minho is right. He also finds it annoying that, if left to his own devices, he probably wouldn’t have gotten there through all his despairing overthinking.
“You’re right, damn it.”
“I know,” Minho says.
The next time they’ve planned to have lunch, Hongjoong runs late.
It’s his fault for being all in his head and not paying attention to the time, but he can’t deny a little relief when Wooyoung says he’ll come up.
Then Wooyoung is in his apartment and the relief dissipates, back into that jittery feeling in his chest.
Hongjoong expects Wooyoung to call him out for acting weird again, but he doesn’t. He sits on the couch and scrolls through his phone while Hongjoong runs back and forth between rooms getting ready to go.
He stands in front of Wooyoung in his socks and hat and big jacket and says, “I’m buying your lunch.”
Wooyoung looks up at him. “Oh. That’s nice.”
“So. You pick where you want to go.”
Wooyoung narrows his eyes. He slides off the couch to stand in front of Hongjoong. There’s that height difference again.
“Are you trying to take me on a date?”
“Trying?” Hongjoong repeats, offended. “Wow. I said I’d buy your food and now you’re being rude to me.”
Wooyoung manhandles him to sit on the couch and Hongjoong scowls, but it’s weak.
“What’s going on?” he demands.
Hongjoong crosses his arms and looks straight ahead.
“I don’t have forever for lunch,” Wooyoung says. “So if you want to make out you’re gonna have to spit it out.”
He’s going for humor. It mostly lands, but his expression betrays insecurity, too.
“No, listen,” says Hongjoong. He pushes himself up on his knees so he can look down at Wooyoung. “Yeah, I am trying to take you on a date, and I do want to make out. Remember when you told me you like me?”
“I knew I made a mistake.”
Hongjoong shoves at his chest. Wooyoung grabs his wrists to stop him, and isn’t that a little much.
“I want you, okay,” he says, tone biting, wrists still caught in Wooyoung’s hands. “I just. Want you.”
Wooyoung doesn’t move. “I’m not gonna date another person who’s in love with Park Seonghwa,” he says quietly.
“It’s a good thing you don’t like Bang Chan then.” Hongjoong watches the guarded thing Wooyoung’s expression does. “I was in love with Seonghwa for a long time. He’s always going to be part of my life. But I don’t want him like that anymore. I do want you.”
Wooyoung lets go of his wrists. Hongjoong moves his hands to his shoulders, then down to squeeze his biceps.
“You better—fucking—” Wooyoung cuts himself off with his hands coming around to press into the small of Hongjoong’s back, hauling Hongjoong into him.
“I will,” Hongjoong agrees and he tilts his face closer. The excited thrum of his heartbeat goes wild.
Wooyoung moves one of his hands firmly to the back of Hongjoong’s neck and pulls him into a kiss.
It’s wet and incredibly hot. Hongjoong finds himself on Wooyoung’s lap in seconds.
“God,” Wooyoung says. “You really did want that, huh?”
“Can you shut up,” says Hongjoong. He makes like he’s going to get off Wooyoung’s lap, but Wooyoung keeps him there. That’s fine; he was bluffing anyway. He gives and kisses Wooyoung again.
Hongjoong really did want this. Now that he’s getting it, he can’t stop the wandering of his hands as they clutch and Wooyoung and travel his body in turns, feeling him under him and against him. For his part, Wooyoung drags Hongjoong through heavier and heavier kisses that make his stomach tingle and make him want to bracket his knees around Wooyoung’s hips.
Wooyoung holds him tight by his sides, and once he gets Hongjoong to settle into the kiss he slides his hands up Hongjoong’s shirt to hold the bare skin of his waist. His hands are warm and they feel really good. Opening the skin on skin door makes him want it more; he wants his shirt off, he wants Wooyoung’s shirt off, he wants naked legs around a naked waist. It’s too soon, it’s Wooyoung’s lunch break, it’s so many things, but he wants it.
Hongjoong has always been bitey, which means Wooyoung knows about it. And actually, he doesn’t seem to mind when Hongjoong bites at his lip a little harder than he means to, or when the path of Hongjoong’s mouth down his neck ends in a sharp nip of his teeth to the skin where his collarbone meets his shoulder. He might like it.
Wooyoung is the one to manhandle Hongjoong into changing their position. He tries to lay him down on the couch, to hover over him.
Hongjoong barely holds back the little noise that comes to his throat at having his body covered by Wooyoung’s. “You don’t have forever for lunch,” he reminds him.
Wooyoung sits back on his heels, disgruntled. “Fuck!” he yells.
Hongjoong laughs. “We definitely don’t have time for that.”
Wooyoung wails. He’s all messed up, eyes shining with alertness as he looks at Hongjoong, looks a little hungry, tip of his tongue between his teeth. “You work tonight too, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck.”
“Tomorrow night?”
Hongjoong groans. “I have dinner with Seonghwa and Chan and Minho. Maybe after?”
“Yeah,” Wooyoung breathes. “After.”
They pull themselves together with effort. Wooyoung says, “Do you have any rice made?” and luckily Hongjoong does, so Wooyoung makes them kimchi fried rice and eggs with runny yolks. He leaves barely in time to make it to the studio for his class.
Hongjoong is strangely exhausted by the time he’s alone in his apartment again. He lies on the couch and considers again Wooyoung’s hands pressing Hongjoong’s body into his own. Then remembers that he was like this just a bit ago, prone on the couch with Wooyoung stretched out over him.
“Damn it,” he mutters to himself.
He takes a nap.
At his Saturday dinner with Seonghwa, Chan, and Minho, the four of them are unnaturally quiet.
Chan keeps looking like he wants to say something, but he never does.
Minho breaks the silence to ask, “So. Did you tell Wooyoung you like him?”
Hongjoong whips around to glare at him; Seonghwa looks at him in shock. “What?” Minho says. “Everyone here knows about it.”
Hongjoong looks from Chan to Seonghwa. Chan looks guilty, and Seonghwa looks unapologetic. So Chan does know, then.
“Yeah, I fucking told him,” Hongjoong grumbles.
“Why would you not tell me?” Seonghwa cries. “How did it go?”
“Great.” Hongjoong glares and takes an extra big bite of his food.
“I still can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic sometimes,” Chan says.
“I don’t think he is,” says Seonghwa. “It really was good?”
“I think so,” Hongjoong says begrudgingly. “I haven’t seen him since yesterday though.”
“Why not?” Minho demands.
“Calm down!” Hongjoong scolds. “He had work, and then I had work, and today I had to hang out with you all.”
“Get out of here!” Minho cries dramatically. “Go to him!”
Hongjoong knows he’s at least mostly joking. This doesn’t stop his body from jerking like he’s about to obey Minho. He catches himself and settles back into his seat. “Shut up,” he mumbles.
And Minho probably was just joking, but they do still wrap up dinner earlier than they normally would, with meaningful glances Hongjoong’s way. On their way out, Hongjoong looks up from his phone to see all three of them watching him.
“Oh my god, what.” He can feel himself going all pink and embarrassed. And he does have his messages with Wooyoung open.
“Are you going to see him?” Seonghwa asks.
Hongjoong makes a despairing noise. “I don’t know!” He texts Wooyoung: please save me Seonghwa and Chan and Minho won’t stop asking about us.
He should be used to it by now, but he’s still surprised when Wooyoung calls him. He stares at it for a second, the others watching him expectantly, before he answers. “Hello?”
“Are you finally free?” Wooyoung is using his complaining voice.
“I’m still with them. Save me,” Hongjoong says dryly.
“I’ll meet you at your station?”
“Yeah. Okay, yeah, see you there.”
Minho applauds when Hongjoong gets off the phone.
Wooyoung is waiting outside the exit when Hongjoong gets there. He pushes himself off the wall he was leaning on, and Hongjoong feels like he’s about to leap out of his skin. Prey—he feels like prey, almost, in that stock-still way.
“Hongjoong-hyung.” Wooyoung is grinning at him. There’s no reason for Hongjoong not to feel relaxed, he is just jittery and bouncy and he can’t stop.
“Hey. You look good.”
It’s true; Wooyoung is wearing a pair of jeans that are slim but not as tight as he sometimes goes, and a big sweatshirt with a jean jacket over it. He’s got the front of his hair pulled up into a little ponytail. Hongjoong both loves it and wants to pull it loose so he can play with the hair, tug on it.
“Thanks.” Wooyoung is wearing this look of contentment that Hongjoong hasn’t seen on him for a long time, since the days they were most comfortable with each other before. It’s this expression that always seems almost smug if you don’t know what you’re looking for. “You look cute too.”
“I always look cute.”
Wooyoung makes a little noise of agreement as they start toward Hongjoong’s apartment, wordlessly agreeing on where they’re going. “It’s a little much, honestly. You get dressed up for everything.”
“You like it,” Hongjoong bites back. He does not know if this is true, but when Wooyoung doesn’t argue he thinks it might be.
He expected Wooyoung to be the one to try and corner him as soon as they’re in the door, but he doesn’t. Wooyoung is looking up after stepping out of his shoes, and Hongjoong hasn’t fully processed the impulse before Wooyoung is back to the wall, Hongjoong’s forearms pressed to his shoulders.
Wooyoung looks down at him, eyes full of latent interest. “Well, hey,” he says.
“Hey.” Hongjoong finds himself hungry to look at Wooyoung. He looks tired but happy. The little half-smile he’s doing is so familiar it almost hurts.
It feels like the right way to proceed with the way he has Wooyoung is to kiss him, but for whatever reason, something in Hongjoong hesitates. He moves his hands to Wooyoung’s shoulders and Wooyoung holds him around the waist.
Wooyoung uses his body to push Hongjoong and start moving them both back. “Did you want something from me?”
That’s it. That’s the push and pull Hongjoong was looking for. This thing he gets with Wooyoung in a way he doesn’t with anyone else.
He shrugs. “Should I?” he asks, and he swings his body weight around so Wooyoung can’t keep pushing him.
Wooyoung uses his weight and the lean muscle of his form to stop him. He hooks a heel behind Hongjoong’s left ankle and jerks it forward so that Hongjoong loses his balance and can’t go anywhere.
Hongjoong’s breaths are coming too heavy; his heart is beating too fast.
“You are way more transparent than you think,” Wooyoung murmurs.
“Why? You think I want something?”
Wooyoung kisses him.
Within moments his hand is on the leg he was keeping immobile, tight at Hongjoong’s thigh. The other hand moves on his waist and then he’s fucking tickling Hongjoong’s side.
Hongjoong jerks away from him with a yell that just makes Wooyoung laugh and follow him, hands out to take his waist again.
“You’re a brat,” Hongjoong says with conviction, and Wooyoung’s only response is more laughter and a longer kiss.
He wants Wooyoung like this so bad. It shouldn’t be a surprise when he finds his hips moving for friction.
“Should we go on a date before we fuck,” Wooyoung murmurs against his mouth.
Hongjoong groans.
“I’m teasing,” Wooyoung says quickly. “I’m just teasing.”
Hongjoong pulls himself back with effort. “Are you sure? You don’t have to be teasing.”
“No, I’m really teasing. Let’s fuck. Please.”
“Yeah,” Hongjoong agrees, hissing a breath through his teeth when Wooyoung hitches his leg up again.
Like this, he can feel Wooyoung’s dick, hard against the softness at the hollow of Hongjoong’s hip bone. Wooyoung’s hips roll against his, smooth in a way grinding has never been for Hongjoong. It’s infuriatingly graceful but sexy, and Hongjoong is never going to be able to watch him dance again without thinking of this.
He finds his mouth running, Wooyoung’s still pressed against it. “Your hips,” he’s saying. “I bet you fuck so good now, god.”
“Now?” Wooyoung exclaims, pulling back from their kiss. “You can’t complimenting me without insulting me too?”
“No,” Hongjoong groans. “Shut up, you know you were good before.”
“Was I?” Wooyoung bites at his neck, then looks down at him. His smile betrays something smug and teasing. “You’ll have to remind me. It’s been a while since I topped.”
Hongjoong doesn’t get the chance to remind him.
Once Wooyoung is in his bedroom he can’t quite hide how much he wants his clothes off. Wooyoung tries to tease him about this, but Hongjoong gets a hand on him and abruptly remembers that Wooyoung stops being able to finish his sentences when he’s being touched.
He gets Wooyoung on his back on the bed in just his underwear. “This is messed up,” he says viciously, moving a leg over Wooyoung’s waist so he can straddle him. Wooyoung’s hands go to his waist automatically, but Hongjoong takes his arms and pushes them above his head.
Wooyoung doesn’t resist or free himself, even though he easily could.
“Look at you.” Hongjoong is looking at him. The definition of his chest makes something stir in Hongjoong’s lower abdomen. Wooyoung is so sexy. Hongjoong wants to be mean to him. “Why have you done this?” he asks in despair. “To torture me?”
Wooyoung smiles. “To torture someone. You just got lucky and it got to be you.”
Hongjoong is a little bit actually pissed off, so he pinches Wooyoung’s upper arm. This gets him a shriek and a full-body jerk. Wooyoung has already freed his arms from Hongjoong’s grip and is sitting up when Hongjoong tries to say, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you liked—”
“That’s enough,” Wooyoung says, lifting Hongjoong bodily and flipping them over. Hongjoong locks his legs around Wooyoung’s waist and bites his ear in retaliation. Then Wooyoung kisses him again, and their naked lower halves come into contact, and it’s over for Hongjoong.
He comes like this, hand trapped between them between his dick and Wooyoung’s stomach. Wooyoung, hovering over him and panting, comes a minute after, right onto Hongjoong’s belly.
He goes to roll off Hongjoong and onto his back, but Hongjoong traps him there with his legs. Knees bracketing Wooyoung’s hips. Wooyoung makes an ugh sound at the mess but he lets himself be pulled down, hair hanging in his face, for a kiss.
They clean up communicating mostly through shared looks. They say few words. Hongjoong’s body is sated but still wired. He catches Wooyoung looking at him, sees it on his face.
They sit on the bed and play a game until they both get tired of it, and then Wooyoung fucks Hongjoong into the mattress.
“You remember that fight we had?” Wooyoung asks the next day.
“Of course,” Hongjoong says. He turns his head to look at Wooyoung. His posture conflicts with his serious tone; his bare legs are stretched out and crossed at the ankle, and his arms rest back behind his head at Hongjoong’s pillows. “Did you want to talk about that?”
“Not really.”
Hongjoong pushes himself up to rest on his elbows. “I wouldn’t really know what to say,” he admits.
“I think it’s okay if we don’t say anything,” says Wooyoung. “We both know we fucked up. We both know why.”
When Hongjoong considers that, he finds it to be true.
He rolls onto his side. “You know I take antidepressants, right?”
Wooyoung shakes his head. “I didn’t know.” He turns to his side, too, and faces Hongjoong. “It was pretty bad back then, though, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah. Just about the worst it’s been. Not that I didn’t fuck up,” he says quickly. “I super fucked up. Having a healthier brain makes a lot of things different, though.”
“Better?”
“Yeah, better.”
Inches apart, they watch each other. Hongjoong grabs at Wooyoung’s ankle with both feet. He likes their height difference reversed like this, where they are eye level with each other but he can wrap his legs around Wooyoung’s longer ones.
“Was I clear enough,” he says, “that I like you and I want to date you again?”
“It doesn’t hurt for you to say it like that,” Wooyoung says with that little smile on his face. “I wanna date you again too. Let’s do that.”
It’s the afternoon when they get out of bed. Wooyoung cooks for them again. He explains to Hongjoong that he’s been practicing a lot and getting good at it, and Hongjoong has to agree.
Wooyoung makes demands for praise and Hongjoong flashes back for a second to being Wooyoung’s boyfriend. He was always obvious about wanting to be praised, but he is so much more open about it now. It’s good, Hongjoong thinks; he sometimes needs people to tell him what they need, and Wooyoung will do that.
He clings himself to Wooyoung’s back. He works to walk the line between affectionate and annoying. This is the way they are. Wooyoung complains, but Hongjoong can tell he likes it. Hongjoong likes it too.
A picnic at the river park is almost too romantic for their date, but it’s also really pleasant and the weather has been beautiful, so they take advantage of it. Wooyoung feeds Hongjoong casually. Hongjoong still isn’t good at doing things like that without making a fuss so he has to add an extra layer of baby talk to it. He wouldn’t want Wooyoung to realize he’s trying to romance him.
Wooyoung allows this easily, watching Hongjoong with knowing eyes.
Hongjoong doesn’t know how it happens—something about San having Wooyoung’s location on and being nearby, Yeosang deciding to tag along to skate, which brings Yunho—but they’ve barely finished their food when a bunch of their friends are just... there.
Wooyoung gives Hongjoong a confused look when he sees San coming. “Uh?”
“Did you have plans?” Hongjoong asks in alarm.
“No! I cleared my evening for you!”
Hongjoong can’t help his shit-eating grin. “Aw, really?”
San has Hyunjin and Jongho with him, all three of them with boba in hand. He saw Wooyoung here on his map, he tells him, and he was headed out because of the nice weather. San does not seem to realize they are on a date.
Soon everyone is there. Hongjoong and Wooyoung don’t get up from their seats; they just watch as Seungmin beats everyone at jegichagi. When Hongjoong shivers from the evening chill, Wooyoung wordlessly wraps a blanket around both their shoulders.
When Seonghwa approaches, he gives Hongjoong a look that conveys such deep confusion, Hongjoong can’t help laughing out loud.
Having their date crashed is surprisingly enjoyable. They stay how they are, comfortably huddled up together, while the others play.
After a while they begrudgingly untuck their limbs from around each other for a trip to the bathroom. There, Wooyoung kisses him for a long moment, and when he pulls away he laughs.
“What is even happening,” he says.
“I don’t know, but it’s kind of hilarious.”
Wooyoung agrees, and he kisses Hongjoong again, and then Seonghwa walks in. “Okay,” Seonghwa says.
“Okay,” Hongjoong repeats, and Wooyoung salutes Seonghwa.
When they leave the bathrooms, Wooyoung jogs over to talk to San. Hongjoong does a vaguely shameful slink back to their blanket. Yunho and Yeosang have taken it over, and Yeosang has procured multiple packages of haribo gummy bears.
“Hey, so,” Hongjoong says.
Yunho looks at him. He takes in what must be well-mussed hair with no change in expression. “Hey, so,” he repeats.
“Wooyoung and I are, like.” Hongjoong doesn’t finish the sentence. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t need to.
“Not surprising,” is what Yunho has to say. “Could see it coming. Zero out of ten for plot twist.”
“Wooyoung talks about Hongjoong all the time,” Yeosang agrees.
“That’s disgusting,” says Hongjoong.
“Don’t worry,” Yeosang tells him. “I would never say that where Wooyoung could hear me.”
“The knowledge will torture hyung,” Yunho says.
“Exactly.”
“You are very annoying together, have you ever considered that?” Hongjoong informs them.
Yunho pats him on the back. “Not everyone gets to see this side of Yeosang. You should feel lucky.”
Hongjoong pets the back of Yeosang’s head to express his fondness. Yeosang gives him a gummy bear.
“I told you we were crashing a date,” Jongho is saying to San when Wooyoung rejoins Hongjoong and wraps them back up in the blanket.
“It’s fine,” Hongjoong says.
“You can’t just crash someone’s first date!”
“We have been on so many dates,” says Wooyoung. “And honestly, this is kind of fun.”
Hongjoong nods. He’s tucked further into Wooyoung’s side than he realized.
Chan and Seonghwa take a walk together. The smile Chan gives Hongjoong is too bright to look at, and when Seonghwa looks at him Hongjoong’s heart hurts at how genuinely thrilled Seonghwa looks for him. Minho teases them even though it’s not their fault everyone crashed their date. Hongjoong pouts and glares at him.
He remembers what Seonghwa said: happy, moody Hongjoong. That’s him, isn’t it?
He keeps pouting, which Wooyoung takes with one of those too-wide smiles he does when he’s really happy. They’re both happy, aren’t they? And isn’t that something.