Chapter 1: New year, New me.
Chapter Text
Teenagers just love to say "New school, new me!" every time August comes, and their summers full of no responsibilities come to an end. And most teenagers lie when they say it, too. But not Kwon Jiyong. Nope. Because, you see, Kwon Jiyong was a bad child. A bad child who did what he wanted, when he wanted to, and didn't give a shit what anybody else had to think of it.
Apparently, his father was sick of it. a
And honestly, you couldn’t blame him. So this school year was going to have to be different for Jiyong. It was a new year, a new… him, whether he liked it or not.
Some things never change, though—or so Jiyong thinks as he looks in the mirror. It may be senior year, when most students in his grade have long lost the serotonin rush of a new school year, but Jiyong still feels that twinge of excitement. Sure, the thrill isn’t the same as it used to be, but nothing could stop him from putting together a strikingly brilliant outfit. It was one of the few positive things he was known for.
Today, he’s sporting jean shorts that cut off a few inches above his knees, cinched with a brown, jewel-studded belt that’s more decorative than functional. His white tee which was slashed and reworked the night before is now an off-shoulder top, showing just enough collarbone to make his father’s blood pressure rise. On his feet are worn Converse and crisp white socks, and on his head sits a brown, matching studded hat to tie it all together.
It’s toned down compared to some of his past looks. For one there’s no neon mesh, layered chains, or clashing colors blending into a surprisingly chic chaos. But that’s intentional. His dad is already going to freak out about the slivers of skin he’s already showing, so maybe holding off on the more outrageous accessories is the safer bet.
In the bathroom, Jiyong brushes out his cotton-candy-colored hair until it’s the perfect balance of styled and messy, yet still fluffy enough to look effortless, but clearly intentional. What was once a ritual of semi-heavy makeup that made him look like he was on his way to a rave has been reduced to lip gloss, a coat of mascara, and just enough eyeliner to hint at rebellion. His father had thrown nearly everything else away.
Jiyong wasn’t kidding when he said his father was forcing him to turn over a new leaf. Still, it’s all cool. At least, that’s what Jiyong keeps telling himself. He flicks off the light, gives his reflection one last lingering glance, and steps out the door, head held high.
"Look who’s finally risen from the dead." Jiyong hears his sister, Dami, deadpan as he enters the kitchen. He scoffs and makes a beeline to the refrigerator, where he stands on his tiptoes slightly to grab the specific box of cereal that he wants. "Please," Jiyong snorts. "Who have you seen rise from the dead looking like this." he grins as he pours said cereal into a bowl. Dami rolls her eyes as she peels an orange, glancing at their mother who is washing dishes to remind herself that she's got to keep a filter. As she goes to open her mouth, Jiyong also adds, "And it's only seven. You're just early." he pauses. "And for what? You don't even go back to college for another two weeks." "Yeah, so that's two weeks I have to work on my sleep schedule!" Dami counters. Jiyong takes a seat next to her with his breakfast. "You're lucky i'm hungry, or i would retaliate to that." Dami shakes her head. "You always do."
Their mother walks up to the table with a basket of rice cakes and a big bowl of Jigae. "Munching on oranges and cereal will leave you hungry in a few hours. Eat up." She explains, tapping the table lightly before walking away. Jiyong doesn't complain and quickly grabs three rice cakes. "Fatty.." He hears his sister mutter under her breath, but doesn't say anything about it. The next few minutes go by smoothly, with neither siblings saying much else while they eat and their mother does domestic duties. And then their father walks through the doorway. "Goodmorning, appa." Dami greets with a smile as their dad returns the favor. "Goodmorning, Dami." He says, then he looks at Jiyong. It's clear he's in no rush to say anything to the man before him as he blows on some Jigae and digs in. He can feel him giving him a once-over on his attire for the day. Jiyong glances at the time on his phone and pushes the chair back, grabbing his backpack from it and slinging it on him. "'Should probably go now if i want to make it on the bus on time," he says as he brushes past Dami. "Bye, loser.” she says. "I guess your right, Ji’. But don't leave before saying goodbye to your mother!” Jiyong hears his mother call out just as he’s about to step out of the kitchen. he tenses before turning around, glancing at his dad and leaning into his mom as she cradles him lovingly and kisses his cheek repeatedly. "Aish, my agi cheonsa is growing so fast!! Why does the bus have to come so early!" she exclaims. "Well maybe if i got my own car.." Jiyong mumbles, fully expecting his father to hear.
"We all know you can't handle the responsibility of having your own car. Or did you forget about how you crashed your sisters when you were 16?" Jiyongs father spits out as his mom unhooks him. Jiyong rolls his eyes. "Yeah, just keep bringing up shit that happened how long ago?" he looks up to the ceiling. "Oh yeah!—almost two years ago." He deadpans. His father’s eyebrows quickly furrow. "And you think i'm going to buy you one with you cursing in my face as if i am your age?" he fumes. His mom lays a hand on his shoulder. "Honey, maybe now isn't the right tim—" "There never is a right time! Not when everything I say to Jiyong goes in one ear and out the othe—" His father is then cut off as well by the sound of their front door closing, signaling that during their brief interaction Jiyong had left. "What am i going to do with that boy."
"Oh, when it all, it all falls down
Man, I promise, she's so self-conscious
She has no idea what she doin' in college ..."
Seunghyun breathes out and hits his head softly on his headboard as he tilts his head up to stare at his ceiling. He wasn't sweating about the new school year; people like Seunghyun never care. He just isn't much of a morning person. He sits up and leans his head down so he can scratch it for a moment before sniffing lightly. He has half a mind to just flop back down and sleep for another 5 minutes, but we all know how that goes. he'll wake up 2 hours later to a pissed off mom. He would include his father too, but he works so much he could guess right now he isn't at the Choi resident at the moment. He gets out his bed and walks straight into his bathroom, wanting to get a look at himself. Not too bad, he supposes. His hair gets easily disheveled so he's not too worried about that, but theres a little bit of drool at the corner of his mouth. Ugh, he needs to shake that habit. He turns the shower on and hums the lyrics that his vinyl continues to play..
"And when it falls down, who you gon' call now?
I'm tellin' you all, it all falls down
C'mon, C'mon, and when it all falls down..”
The brunettes choice of clothing today is simple but definitely a look: He threw a dark green and black flannel over a plain white tee and wore regular jeans and some nice sneakers. He added his favorite chain and watch on before going back into his bathroom to look at himself. Feeling good, he flashes a pearly, dimply smile towards the mirror and mutters "Lets get this over with." Then leaves his quarters. Not before taking his College Dropout vinyl off of his record player. It would be a nightmare if he left it there (ifykyk).
Soon as he enters his spacious kitchen does Seunghyun hear "There's my tabi!" He cringes and groans as his mom pulls him into a quick hug before pecking his cheek with a kiss. “Mom, could you please stop calling me that?” Seunghyun pleads, and she just tsks and pats his cheek lightly. “But oh, you’re my little tabby cat!” She croons. Seunghyun will admit he was fond of the alias when he was younger—but now he’s pushing 18!! He is for sure not cute. Choi’s Seunghyun is handsome. like, look-at-that-jawline-I-want-to-marry-it handsome. So, yeah. Not a cute cat.
during his little monologue, he had taken a seat at his houses grand table that was littered with different foods his mother had prepared for the morning. “Where Hye’?” Seunghyun asks, just to fill the silence. “She spent the night with one of her friends,” her eyes twinkle. “Do you miss her?” She asks and Seunghyuns grip on his spoon falters slightly and the juk slips right back into the bowl. “No. I just saw her yesterday.” He answers bluntly. He knows what his mother is trying to do; They all think Seunghyun is a little reserved. Truth is Seunghyun just isn’t much of a sharer, simple as that. He’s not an introvert, he’s not insecure, but he feels as though moments are always more special when you share it with someone who really means a lot to you. Which does not exclude his family—not at all. But, well..Seunghyun doesn’t really know. He just knows that he doesn’t express his emotions as much as he should with the people closest to him. His mom gives him a knowing look, and he isn’t sure what exactly it is that she knows. He shifts to the array of different side dishes. He’s left alone for a few minutes, until she speaks up again while leaning against the kitchen counter and reading a book.
”So..Any ladies catch your eye yet?” Seunghyun drops the chopsticks he was holding while eating sigeumchi muchim, and leans back into the chair, crossing his arms and glaring towards his maternal figure. “What’s with all the questions, eomma? Are you trying to quiz me, or what?” “This is the second question I’ve asked you, hyung. Both of which were harmless.” She counters easily. Seunghyun gets out of his seat and briefly leaves to get his backpack that he had forgotten up stairs, and walks past his mom to the door. “The answer is no, by the way.” He says before leaving. While walking down the steps he murmers, “And maybe I never will..”
His mother stands in the kitchen after his departure, picking up her cup of tea that had been abandoned. “Aish, what am I going to do with that boy.” She says as she puts the cup to her lips. Hopefully this year will be different for her one and only son, because the previous ones have been nothing but redundant. Seunghyun is not a bad kid, and hell, maybe that’s the problem. He goes to school, he gets concerningly excellent grades, he’s the schools star soccer player, and she just knows he is found very attractive to many of the girls that populate the school. But Seunghyun has never expressed any interest for any of them. Now she isn’t expecting marriage any time soon, but when she was his age and hadn’t yet met his father; Yes. Yes she’d had a few boyfriends. It comes with being a teenager, she supposes. She lets out a breath she had not known she’d been holding in. As many say, it’s a new year, new them.
Maybe this year will bring a Seunghyun that steps outside his comfort zone. A Seunghyun who will find himself catching feelings for a beautiful and mature woman. A Seunghyun who will find passion and interest in things other than music and soccer. A mother can only dream, though. It’s up to whoever is above to make it a reality.
Jiyong makes it off the bus a few minutes before the first bell of the day sets off in a tone-deafening ring. The air is crisp and full of what can’t be described as nothing else but “School air”. The building itself looks exactly the same, not a single thing critiqued or innovated. Jiyong feels weird to say that it’s a tad bit comforting, but truthfully it is. With his father demanding so many changes from him and his lifestyle, knowing that the place that he’s spent most of his past four years in is still identical to every other time he’s seen it leaves a lingering taste of solace. He hears his name being called loudly and directs his attention to the cause, seeing his group of friends in the crowd of students. Jiyong smiles. Some things never change.
”Jiyong, there you are!” Daesung yells, even though said man is closer to him than before. “And looking..Socially acceptable.” Chaerin points out, looking Jiyong up and down with an amused brow lift. “Yeah, hey to you too, CL.” Jiyong rolls his eyes. She often talks a little crude, but it really is just her love language. “And Dae’! Your hair looks longer.” Daesung smiles so hard his eyes are more closed than open, and he rolls the balls of his feet. “Yeah. Decided to grow it out this time around.” His choice of clothing for the day is nice; a Jean jacket with a pocket on each of his pecs, matching denim jeans, and some sneakers. It’s casual, but ties together nicely.
CL herself is dressed as if it’s the MAMA awards, with an eye-blinding handful of necklaces, a plaid red skirt with a black top, black boots, and biker gloves. It’s a statement, for sure, and similar to Jiyong, she dyes her hair a lot. Today it’s a relaxed blonde. Her eyeshadows heavy and her lips are popping, and Jiyong is reminded why they both became friends in the first place; respecting each other over their great sense of style. Bom is also there, wearing a sparkly black top slightly flowing over a pair of black tights. She’s got the infamous knee-high converses on and a bunch of gold jewelry around her. She retracts a lollipop from inside her mouth with a pop! “Nice outfit Ji’. This may be the first time I’ve seen you without a choker around your neck.” Bom teases, and Jiyong scoffs. “It’s the first time you guys have seen me in how long? And yet the first thing you guys say about me is how I’m not stomping around school grounds with a nose ring I pierced myself and a graffiti spray can in my backpack.” He snaps with no bite, making his friends just snicker.
Daesung briefly scratches the nape of his neck. “Well, you can’t really blame us. The first month of summer break was chill until you suddenly just fell off the face of earth.” Jiyong groans. “Ugh, don’t remind me. My dad said if I don’t get my act together he’s gonna send me away when I turn 18. So that meant no more parties, sneaking out, nothing.” He explains. The last two months had been probably the worst in a while for Jiyong. He was a social person, no matter of who he talked to wanted to be or not. He always thought of himself as the life of the party—the first person there and the last person to leave. So to be stuck in a house that was too big and too small at the same time, surrounded by only his parents and sister, was practically anarchy. He feels a shiver run up his spine at the thought. Him and his friends fall into a comfortable rhythmic conversation. These are people he’s known since middle—even elementary, school years. They’ve seen Jiyong at his highest, his lowest, his best, and his worse. And throughout it all did they stick with him. Jiyong is forever grateful.
During this, it happens.
It’s a fleeting moment; one that shouldn’t have meant anything. Yet it did. Jiyong was just scanning the courtyard, looking with no intention.
Then, suddenly, as if it was preordained to happen—dark brown eyes caught his. Not just brown, but deep, molten pools that seemed to drink in light rather than reflect it. The kind of brown that carried warmth and mystery in equal measure, so dark they bordered on black, yet when the sun caught his stature, they highlighted the chestnut irises that anyone could get lost in. They were steady, unblinking, framed by lashes so long they almost seemed unfair, and holding a weight that felt too heavy for a man with such pretty windows to the soul, like they had seen and known far more than they would ever let on.
Beneath them, dimples carved into warm skin when the faintest ghost of a smile tugged at slim, soft lips—lips that looked as though they could cut with a word or soothe with a whisper. For the briefest second, everything else around Jiyong fell away: the chatter, the footsteps, the dull hum of excited freshman. It was just those eyes, those lips, that moment.
And then—gone.
A glance broken. A connection severed by nothing more than time’s insistence to keep moving. It shouldn’t have mattered. They hadn’t spoken, hadn’t even nodded in acknowledgment. But the air between them had hummed—electric, like the quiet before lightning splits the sky. It left Jiyong with a faint quickening in his chest, a buzzing in his fingertips, as if something significant had just brushed past him and vanished before he could name it. It was nothing. And yet, it was everything.
Or maybe Jiyong is just dramatizing the whole thing. Maybe those quintessential brown eyes hadn’t even looked his way, and maybe they weren’t even that pretty. No. Jiyong isn’t like that. No matter how many late-night K-dramas he watches, pressing a hand to his chest at that dull, aching emptiness that comes from never having felt love beyond family or friends. No. it’s just entertainment. Pretty stories for other people. He wouldn’t actually want that in real life. No.
”Jiyong-ah, why are you standing there as if you just saw your celebrity crush in the flesh?” Jiyong is startled by Chaerins lewd tone, turning to her direction. “The bell just rung. Come on!” Jiyong walks after her by default, but not without sparing one last glance to the mystery man from afar; he’s gone. Jiyong pretends to brush it off. Whatever had just happen did not matter. Not in the slightest.
Not in the slightest.
Hm. Weird. that’s Seunghyun’s first thought after the extremely charged, breath-catching moment he just had with… well, Seunghyun doesn’t even know, if he’s being honest. All he knows is that he saw the most vibrant hair he’s ever seen in his entire life, somehow perfectly complementing fair, porcelain skin.
Then there were the eyes; deep-toned and entrancing, like a whirlpool of brown and even darker brown. Were they real? Seriously, he was the one to break the intense eye contact with a blink. He could almost feel himself getting lost… in… the… eyes? That’s a weird phrase. A phrase he never in a hundred years would have used.
Seunghyun feels a tingle for a moment, and it lingers even after the man looks away, his attention drawn elsewhere. He lets out a quiet breath he didn’t know he was holding. He doesn’t even register the bell ringing until moments later, and it’s only then that he’s shaken out of his daze.
Lightly, he hitches his backpack higher on his shoulder and starts walking with Seungri, who is, without a doubt, talking some absolute bullshit at the moment. Seunghyun’s not going to say he just fell in love with those eyes, or those glossy lips. Just that he was… intrigued. And even that is a first for him.
He’s content for now, though. After all, it’s only the first day—the first hour—of the school year. He has plenty of time to find out who owns those honey-brown orbs.
“So, any girls you see that catch your eye yet?” Slam! Seunghyun closes his locker. Number 230. “Eii, Seungri all you worry about is girls. Like seriously, can you live without them?” Seunghyun groans in mild irritation. Seungri asks him this same question about an accumulated fifty times a month. It’s seriously annoying. And even more annoying because it’s the same answer everytime.
”And no.”
“Oh come on, TOP-“ “And stop calling me that!” Seunghyun seethes through gritted teeth as he starts walking slowly up the hall with his friend. “Wahh, come on! Your like at the top of the schools food chain! Top of the game!” “And your at the top of my patience..” he grumbles, and gives a curt nod and smile at a few girls they pass by waving and batting their eyes at him.
At this moment Seungri leaned in. “Alright. Be honest. How many girls do you think already wrote your name in hearts in their notebooks today?”
Seunghyun kept walking, adjusting his flannel sleeves. “Zero. Hopefully.”
Seungri laughed loud enough to get a few stares. “Please. Bro. You could name ten girls right now. ten! Who would all kill just to breathe the same air as you. Ye-Jin from Chemistry? Dead. Minji from last years book club? Deceased. That art girl with the buzzcut and the septum ring?”
“She scares me.”
“Exactly! She’d still risk it all.” Seungri crossed his arms, tilting his head. “So what’s the deal? You waiting for a virgin sacrifice or something?” He asks with a laugh.
Seunghyun chuckled under his breath, adjusting the chain around his neck. “I don’t know, man. I just… I like the peace. I’m not tryna break hearts and have my mom pissed at the home phone always having a voicemail.”
“Modest king,” Seungri said with a dramatic eye roll. “You’re the hottest dude on campus and you’re out here talkin’ like a monk.”
“Maybe that’s because I can live without a girl.” Seunghyun gave a lazy half-smile, but his thoughts slipped. Back to the moment earlier. A flash of pink and sky blue. Dark liner. Eyes like they’d swallowed stars.
He hadn’t gotten a name. Barely a glimpse.
But damn, those eyes.
Who was that?
With CL and Boms lockers being light years away from Jiyong and Daesungs, they split up. Jiyong insisted on getting the first locker in the hall, claiming it was “best fit for a king” and then calling Daesung his jester. “But I’m not even that funny!” He retaliated, which made things even funnier. Because yeah—just call yourself out. Jiyong already adds flair to his locker, with old photo strips with bedazzled frames and a mirror attached to the door of it. “So, what had you so timid earlier?” Daesung asks once he closes the door to his own locker next to Jiyong. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The vibrant-haired man responds bluntly; hoping that his voice doesn’t crack in the midst of his white lie. Daesung snorts. “Don’t think I didn’t notice. You? Kwon Jiyong? Stopping like a deer in headlights? I gotta know what was the cause.” “I just…spaced out.” Jiyong mumbles, looking everywhere but his friends face. “Ji’. You were silent for 5 minutes. Since when did you do that?” He says with a knowing look towards him. Jiyong is getting irritated. Curse Daesung and how well he knows him.
Regardless of Daesung clearly knowing something is up, Jiyong stands his ground. “Since now. Two months of solitude can do that to a man.” He pouts and tilts his head up in mock-despair. Daesung smirks as they walk into their first classroom. “Yeah. Sure.”
The hum of the fluorescent lights overhead was almost louder than the teacher’s voice. Almost. Mr. Han had that particular tone that wasn’t quite monotone but wasn’t exactly not. It just succumbed the entire room into a quiet, tiring environment.
Jiyong sat slouched in his chair near the back, chin propped on his hand, the pen between his fingers tapping the desk lightly. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this class. Literature sounded cool when he’d first signed up for it; imagining deep discussions, rebellious characters (ones that he could relate to), and perhaps even a book or two that’d change the way he interpreted things. Instead, most of the class, it was just Mr. Han reading passages aloud like he was narrating a bedtime story for ghosts. Who even going into a lesson on the first day? Still, there were moments that promised humor in the midst of a boring period.
Like now.
Mr. Han had been explaining symbolism for a good ten minutes before pausing to squint at his notes. “And as you all know,” he said after clearing his throat. “the rooster is a…Very romantic bird.”
There was a beat of silence. The room stayed the same, seeming as if over the summer just about everyone has matured. Almost everyone. Jiyong’s eyes immediately flicked across the room to Daesung, who sat by the window. Daesung was already looking at him, biting the inside of his cheek, eyes crinkling like he was about to implode.
Jiyong pressed his lips together, shaking his head just slightly, but it had only made it worse. He could feel the laugh pushing at the back of his throat, begging to break out. However, Mr. Han had already moved on, blissfully unaware.
The thing was, Jiyong didn’t even care about roosters, or anything else Mr. Han had been teaching the past hour and a half. The shared look—the split-second of understanding—made the class worth sitting through. Even if the rest of the hour was just more droning and fluorescent hums.
Daesung and Jiyong left the classroom once it was over, both without Mr. Han reminding everyone that there was a fifteen minute break in between before a “welcome back to school assembly” which didn’t sound the more jubilant, but hey—it probably beats whatever class Jiyong has the dishonor of being enrolled in next. When the duo stepped out it was as if landing back on earth after a trip to the moon. Seriously, Jiyong has forgotten about civilization for the hour and a half he was stuck in that classroom. And he most of all forgot about those eyes.
Down the hall they both see their friend Taeyang, immediately calling him over. He looked relatively the same; black ripped jeans, a crisp white shirt, and a worn-in leather jacket that hung on him like it had seen its fair share of trouble. The outfit screamed “bad boy,” which was almost laughable, considering Taeyang was one of the most carefree, good-natured people they knew. He greeted both Jiyong and Daesung with a high-five. “Look who’s in the house! The-“ “No.” “G-“ “Don’t say it.” “Dra-“ “He’s gonna say it, Ji’.”
”The G Dragon!!” Taeyang echos out with his hands curved around his mouth, grasping the attention of most in the hallway. Jiyong just sighs in a fake-irritated manner. “Just when will you let that go?” He asks exasperatingly. Taeyang just snickers. “Just about never, GD. You’re gonna have to live with it—or live up to it.” “What does that even mean?” Jiyong questions with a raised brow. “Exactly, Ji’. Exactly.” Taeyang nods his head whimsically, and both Daesung and Jiyong exchange a look.
”Okay so you’ve gone batshit crazy over the summer. What else?” Daesung deadpans with a smirk. Taeyang responds with an eye roll. “Kekeke, what else is new? What else is new is that you’ve developed some jokes.” “Oh, don’t get all sensitive, Tae’.” Jiyong buds in, far too amused by the banter going on in front of him. “I’m not! Hey—I’ll catch you two later. I gotta go take to Seunghyun.” Taeyang then says, almost out of the blue, walking past them and turning the corner of the hall. “Seung-who now?” Jiyong calls after him. The man must be a transfer or something, because as familiar as the Anne sounds, he cannot put a face to it. And Jiyong takes pride at remembering people. He shrugs. He has plenty of time to figure out who he is anyways, especially if he’s mutual friends with Taeyang.
Only time will tell, he supposes.
Seunghyuns first class of the school year was pretty uneventful. The teacher went over rubrics, essential topics the class would go over, and basic rules. Seunghyun wasn’t complaining though, it gave him time to relax for a moment. In the chaos of school—the cheerleaders gawking at him as he passes by, to the jocks pestering him to come to parties just to boost their crowd—Seunghyun finds refuge in the back of a classroom. There, with music blasting his eardrums through his headphones, the noise and energy that usually drains him from the endless drama fade into something more manageable. Less of a headache. It’s the only place where he can breathe, where the world slows down enough for him to just be himself, even if only for a little while.
“Y'all don't know my struggle
Y'all can't match my hustle
You can't catch my hustle
You can't fathom my love dude“
Of course his moment of tranquility is cut short by the bell. Seunghyun lets out a deep exhale. It just never feels like enough time. He just wants to fully engulf himself in the music, to feel and listen—not hear. Every lyric, every bar, hook, punchline. To bob his head in rhythm and have a chorus stuck in his head for days to come. Is that too much to ask? For the world to stop rotating for a moment and collectively stop? Maybe then Seunghyun can fully take in the baseline in a track, with the hi-hats enunciating the entire song. He huffed as he got out of his seat and grabbed his book bag. “And don’t forget you all have an assembly in fifteen minutes! No funny business in the halls!” He hears his teacher say. Great. Maybe Seunghyun can sit down during the assembly and listen to some music. That is if he’s not sitting next to someone insufferable.
Which is 80% of their whole grade.
Taeyang somehow found his way back to Jiyong and Daesung after unsuccessfully finding this “Seunghyun” character, deciding to spare what he calls “his remarkable personality”. Jiyong thinks more like intolerable.
A few minutes later, Daesung was in full storyteller mode. hands waving wildly as he recounted a ridiculous incident from the cafeteria involving a spilled smoothie and a very confused teacher that occurred the last school year. “Man, and then remember Mr. Kim’s face!? He looked like he’d just been personally betrayed by a cup of mangoes! And I mean, he was!” Daesung laughed, shaking his head.
Taeyang smirked beside him, a low-blow insult forming at the tip of his tongue, making Jiyong roll his eyes affectionately. “Only you would find that hilarious, Dae. Most people would run for cover.”
Jiyong chuckled but found his attention slipping—not on the smoothie story, but on the boy with those pretty brown eyes. And those dimples… hypnotizing, really. He blinked, shaking off the distraction. “Hey, if you two are going to go back and forth, at least include me. How am I feeling like a third wheel when we’re all friends?” Jiyong teased, nudging Daesung. “If you’re going to keep reciting that catastrophe from last year, at least add some extra flair.”
Daesung grinned. “So you’re saying you want me to add some fibs in to make it more interesting. I knew you were a pathological liar.”
Taeyang chuckled, then threw a playful glance at Jiyong. “And apparently, a distracted starry-eyed friend who’s got his head in the clouds.”
Jiyong scoffs that makes his throat feel dry. Why is he being so transparent today? “Shut up. Is it that hard to believe that I’m just—oh I don’t know—tired on the first day back to this retched hellhole?”
“Tired,” Daesung laughs, “One would think that after being grounded for half of the summer, one would fix their sleep schedule.” Shit. Daesung is getting too smart for his own good. “Yeah, yeah,” Jiyong said, pushing his hands in his pockets, knowing that if he said much else something he would rather leave unsaid would slip out. Taeyang shook his head and closed his eyes with a smile. He missed the two weirdos. Just as he opened his eyes and looked straight, he’d see his other friend. “Seunghyun!” Taeyang had exclaimed to grab the boys attention, walking faster than Jiyong and Daesung to meet the man in the middle.
Oh great, Jiyong thinks. Finally he can meet this Seung—
Holy shit.
It’s him.
Chapter 2: Two aligned hearts
Chapter Text
There they are.
Those eyes.
They are the first thing that you see; Deep brown, sharp in pigment yet soft around the edges of the iris. They crinkle slightly when he smiles at Taeyang, which should be illegal considering the dimples that appear, which are deep, hypnotic, and carved into his cheeks like they were designed specifically to make people lose their train of thought, send Jiyong into a frenzy.
And then there’s his jawline, which is strong and cut like it could have been sculpted by hand. And it frames lips that look soft, plush, and makes girls fall to their knees. His hair is messy and dark, soft and tousled, yet styled to perfection. It structures his face in a way that makes you want to brush it back just to see him more clearly. His height doesn’t help Jiyongs case either since he’s tall enough to make him tilt his head back just a little to look up at him, which only adds to the whole effortlessly dominant presence that he carries.
Even as he’s wearing something casual, which is a flannel jacket paired with a white shirt and simple jeans, he wears it like it’s been tailored for him. Or maybe that’s just Jiyongs hormones talking. It emphasizes his broad shoulders and lean frame. However, despite looking like he stepped out of a magazine, there’s something approachable about him. His smile is warm and welcoming even though it’s not directed towards him, and his demeanor is not giving intimidating whatsoever. Overall, the man is devastating, yes, but in the kind of way that makes you want to be near him, and not just look at him from afar.
Jiyongs mouth goes dry. Drier.
”Hyung, I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Where you been, hiding from the yeohaksaengs?” Taeyang jokes as he pulls Seunghyun into a quick but tight hug. “Not exactly, Taeyang. Just been chilling.” Seunghyun shrugs nonchalantly, and his voice is deep-toned and bass-timbered. Jiyongs previously dry mouth is suddenly pooling with saliva. Daesung shoots him a…perceptive, look. Seunghyun glances behind Taeyang. “Who’s the kids behind you?” He asks.
wha—? That snaps Jiyong out of his trance. “Kids? Uh, you do realize we’re all the same age, right? And just because you’re—” his eyes travel up and down Seunghyun’s frame, cheeks puffing as he searches for the right words, “—six-foot-three and rocking, what, size thirteens?—doesn’t automatically make the rest of us ‘kids.’” He even throws up air quotes for emphasis before crossing his arms. Seunghyun just stares blankly and blinks a few times, then breaks out in a chuckle. He raises his hands in mock submission. “Alright, I guess you have a point. Sorry.” He plants his hands in his pockets. Jiyong deflates. He wasn’t..expecting that response. And now he just feels like an idiot, lashing out on Seunghyun for no reaon. Wait—he did have a reason! Why is he backtracking? Jiyong doesn’t backtrack!
“Yeah. You should be.” The air is thick with an indescribable tension. Daesung breaks it by actually answering Seunghyuns original question. “I’m Daesung, but I don’t really mind you calling me Dae’. This is Jiyong.” He nods his head towards the cotton candy haired man. Then it happens again. Jiyong lifts his head up to look at Seunghyun and suddenly their eyes lock. But it’s not normal. The air between them feels heavier, thicker, like the space is too small for the both of them. Jiyong swallows, his pulse tickling the back of his throat. He doesn’t look away; he can’t. The longer they hold each other’s gaze, the more everything else comes to an end. The voices, the shuffling footsteps, even his own thoughts. They all stop. Until it’s just them.
They’re close enough that Jiyong can make out every detail. The way a strand of dark hair has fallen against his forehead, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath that maddeningly casual shirt and flannel. And those eyes, dark and unreadable, locked on him like they’re peeling back layers he didn’t know he had.
A corner of Seunghyun’s mouth lifts, but it’s not quite a smile. It’s more like a silent acknowledgment that they both feel whatever…This is. Jiyong’s breath catches, and he forces himself to tilt his chin up just a fraction, like he’s daring him to break the moment first. But Seunghyun doesn’t. He just keeps looking at him, steady and unflinching, until it feels like the whole world has narrowed down to this charged strip of air between them, humming like live wire. It’s scarily similar to how he feels when listening to music.
”Cool.” Seunghyun mutters with a smirk, and Jiyong gapes. You’ve got to be fucking kidding him. All of that, and he’s talking about some cool? Does he want to die?
And then, as if none of that freaky-deaky-K-drama-love interests-first-appearance-shit happened, Seunghyun backpedals back down the hall. Someone by a locker throws a basketball at him with a whoop! And he catches it without looking. Jiyong is downright gawking at this point, by the way. He dribbles it on the floor a few times, then tucks it into his armpit as he finally turns around to the direction he’s actually walking to. And just like that, as if he was never here in this first place, he’s gone. The only indication that he was ever there being the people talking about him, running after him, and looking at Jiyong, Daesung, and Taeyang as if they didn’t deserve to be in the presence of the dimple-ridden man, or something.
“Dang, not even a ‘see yall later?” Daesung half-jokes, looking at the space Seunghyun once held up. Taeyang chuckles. “That’s Choi Seunghyun for you.” Choi Seunghyun. Jiyong feels something, poor boy doesn’t even know what, race up his spine at the name.
When he said “new year, new me,” this wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. Still, Jiyong can practically guarantee that some big changes will be coming soon. He lets out a slow breath, the cool of it contrasting his hot face. “Let’s get to the assembly.”
Jiyong had found seats not too close to the auditoriums stage, where their teacher body would be present at in a few minutes. Him, Daesung, and Taeyang all shuffled down the row until they find a free space of five. Jiyong sits down, fully expecting Daesung to be on his left and Taeyang on his right. But then, suddenly, there’s a gust of wind and a pained noise by Taeyang. And then, before him is Seunghyun. He sits down right next to Jiyong, ignoring Taeyangs feeble protests. “Hey, man! If you wanted the seat you could have just asked.” He pouts, only to be shoved by Seungri again as he sits in the seat next to Seunghyun. Taeyang throws up a fight this time, and Seungri just rolls his eyes and scooches one seat down so Taeyang is beside Seunghyun. Jiyong only half-assedly listened in on the whole debacle, because Seunghyun smiled at him effortlessly. Seriously, who sculpted this man? God must have just been bored one day and decided to flex. His lashes are also annoyingly long for someone who doesn’t use mascara, and his skin is so clear that it’s practically golden.
“You don’t mind if I sit here, right?” He asks with a tilt of his head that he knows sends people overboard. His eye contact on Jiyong was intense too. The shorter man almost passes out right there. His throat dries as he looks Seunghyun up and down quickly, and also inhaling what he isn’t even sure is cologne; Sandalwood and honey. Jiyong bounces his knee. “Uh, yes—wait, no. No, I don’t mind. Sit.” Kwon Jiyong are you a fucking idiot? He’s already sitting down! And then why would you say yes in the first place!? He isn’t mentally slapping himself, he’s mentally throwing blows.
Seunghyun just chuckles, and Jiyong may be fine with going the rest of his life listening to that sound on repeat. “So your name’s Jiyong, right?” He asks, leaning forward in a way that makes Jiyong automatically do the same, creating a more personal conversational atmosphere. “It suits you.” Seunghyun asks with an inexplicable look, and Jiyong isn’t even sure what he means but regardless he finds himself laughing softly and scratching the nape of his neck. “You think? Well, Seunghyun fits you pretty well, too. I’ve never heard of the name before.”
“AHEM?”
Gahh, shut the hell up Seungri. Jiyong shoots the man a quick glare and then directs his attention back on Seunghyun, who just never seems like anything but amused. “So you’re saying I’m rare?” He teases with a raise of one of his thick eyebrows. “Not exactly, but you can interpret it like that.” Jiyong counters, and for a moment there’s an underlying sense of something unspoken threading between them. Something charged, elusive, but undeniable. Seunghyuns smirk doesn’t waver, and Jiyong can feel the weight of his gaze lingering just a beat too long, as if daring him to press further. Jiyongs eyes flutter shut, and just as he’s about to say something, Taeyang ruins the entire moment with some utter bullshit.
”So does anybody have Ms. Kim? She sounds mean but she honestly also sounds like he could be nice. You know what I mean?” He says with a brochure of the schools faculty that you can only get from going to the orientation from a couple weeks back. Jiyong can almost feel a vein bulge under his eye, but Seunghyun doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. He just leans back into his chair and replies fo Tayeang casually. As if he didn’t just turn Jiyongs legs into noodles. Or his brain into jelly. He still feels out of breath from just a conversation. Is this real? This is such a scarce occurrence for Jiyong. To feel his focus snag on someone like this, to catch himself hanging on to every word without meaning to. It’s new, unsettling even, and he tells himself it’s nothing, just a flicker of intrigue that will pass…Noncommittal tendencies were something Jiyong was kind of known for. Not in a bad light, just that Jiyong doesn’t really do..dating. Like he’ll make out with someone at a party whom he’ll never meet again, maybe hook up with someone after lying about his age at a club.
But Jiyongs never felt strong feelings. And these…these were strong. Strong in a sense that all the rest of his senses are overstimulated. In a way that Jiyong got a glimpse of the man’s eyes and they were stuck in his mind for hours after. In a way that the second Seunghyun had turned to Taeyang, he pulled his cellphones camera and tried to fix himself up a little. Appearance means a lot to Jiyong regardless, but how? Yeah, not a hair out of place. Especially when the man he’s trying to look good for might be the reincarnate of a Greek god.
As their principal takes the stage and leans into the mic, the buzz of chatter dies down. Seunghyun and Taeyang stop talking too, and the man directs his attention to the front of the room. Jiyong spares what he thinks will be one last glance to him.
about 20 minutes in, Jiyong slouches in his chair with his knees angled slightly away from the stage, eyes fixed on the speaker out of sheer discipline. Or at least, that’s the image he wants to project, because It’s easier said than done when Seunghyun is sitting right next to him.
Every so often, without warning, their eyes meet. Not on purpose—at least not on Jiyong’s part. He’ll catch the edge of Seunghyuns stature in his peripheral vision, and the curve of a smirk that doesn’t seem to belong to anything. And then, before he knows it, he’s looking directly at him.
And every time, Seunghyun is already there. Watching.
It’s unnerving how composed he is. There’s no flicker of surprise, no quick dart of his gaze elsewhere. Just that faint amusement, like he’s been expecting Jiyong to look all along. Jiyong’s the one who flinches away, pretending to adjust in his seat, scratch his cheek, actually pay attention to anything his schools staff has to say, anything to break the contact first.
He tells himself it’s nothing. Just a weird, awkward coincidence. The kind of thing that happens when you’re crammed next to someone for too long. And yet, when he lets his guard down, even for just a second, there’s that pull again. He gives in for the hundredth time, glancing sideways, and there Seunghyun is, still wearing that infuriating, easy half-smile.
By the dozenth time, Jiyong can feel heat crawling up the back of his neck. He refuses to acknowledge it. The speaker’s words dissolve into meaningless background noise, replaced by the pounding awareness of the situation Jiyong is in, his knees brushing the others every time one of them shifts.
When their eyes lock again, completely by accident, Seunghyuns brows lift ever so slightly, as if he’s about to say something. Jiyong looks away so fast that it’s almost comical, fixing his attention on the stage with the intensity of someone trying to memorize every inch of the podium.
He hears a low and hypnotizing chuckle afterwards.
Seunghyun is happy with his choice of sitting in Taeyangs seat. If he hadn’t taken charge, he wouldn’t be here right now. When he finally met the beholder of the pink-and-blue mop of hair, he was thoroughly satisfied. Jiyong, well, Jiyong was pretty, if that’s any way to put it. His eyes are extremely expressive, enviously so, and slightly effeminate; slender legs which—if Seunghyun may add—are highlighted by the cute shorts he’s wearing, incredibly long lashes he has (may be mascara, but Seunghyun isn’t that knowledgeable in makeup and things), and, okay, he did take a peek and see something back there. But that’s not all that matters, he’s not Seungri!
Jiyong is very…interesting. In a way that Seunghyun is dying to know more and more of, and he's definitely made solid attempts to. Or, he would’ve if Taeyang didn’t say anything. Seunghyuns horrible with playing a poker face, so the immense self control he had to use to not roll his eyes and glare at Taeyang, but instead smile and answer him, was utterly exhausting. Not like he felt it for long, because during the presentation he kept stealing glances at Jiyong, who was clearly getting flustered. It was just too fun, Seunghyun can’t lie. It was also nice to use his looks to an advantage, because he hasn’t had much reason to in the past. This is probably the first time Seunghyun can say he’s willing to get to know someone more, and in a both platonic and romantic manner. You really can’t blame him though.
Jiyong just has that kind of presence, Seunghyun guesses. It’s the kind that turns heads without him even trying. His hair, which are soft waves of pastel pink and blue, like spun sugar, frame his face in a way that makes the every out of place strand look perfect and intentional. His skin is impossibly smooth, almost too perfect, with a warmth that seems to invite touch. His eyes hold a quiet mischief, the kind that you’ll quickly find out about in just one conversation, there even when he’s not smiling, and when he does smile…It’s devastating.
His lips are full, naturally flushed, shaped like they were drawn with too much care. He has slender wrists, a delicate curve to his jaw, and somehow graceful with the way he moves without thinking about it. And yet, it’s not softness alone; there’s an edge under it all, an unspoken confidence in the way he carries himself. Or maybe it is spoken. Jiyong is beautiful in that way that feels both intentional and accidental, like he was born to be looked at and knows exactly what that does to people. Like he basks in attention.
The assembly comes to an end, and Seunghyun finds himself a little disappointed. And also…He spent the whole time analyzing Jiyong that he hadn’t even used his headphones. Weird.. Just as the lights turn on and the projector is turned off, Jiyong leaps out of his seat. “Well, don’t wanna be late to my next class! You know how my dad has been lately, right Dae’?” Said man blinks. Jiyong just laughs like it was the funniest thing in the world and hurriedly scurries past everyone and out of the auditorium. Taeyang and Daesung stand there confused, and Seungri doesn’t really care (because he’s a dickhead. Woah, who said that!?), while Seunghyun stares where Jiyong once was with a smirk. Maybe this will be a good year after all.
Jiyong is on an absolute hunt for CL. Who else is he going to tell about the absolute unreal events that just occurred? He knows she didn’t go to that fuckass assembly, so where could she be? And the longer he looks for her, the more he feels himself spiraling with confused emotions; because Jiyong was in a rush to get away from Seunghyun, but also wanted to stay and..talk. Eugh that just sounds so desperate! But why is Jiyong desperate to talk to him? I mean, he’s not desperate. Just…okay, desperate. But only a little bit. Like a teeny tiny, telescopic crumb; a morsel.
Then there’s Soo-hyuk, and ugh right now is just not the time. “Looking good, Ji’.” He whistles, and Jiyong groans and walks past. He’s a prime example of why people say don’t make dumb decisions. It was one night, one hour. Just something Jiyong did for fun a while back. And before then him and Soo-hyuk were good friends! But ever since then he’s just been so adamant on getting back into Jiyongs pants. If only he had a Time Machine…
”I’ll get him next time.” Soo-hyuk mutters, seeming to never run out of determination. There’s a scoff from beside him. “Yeah, you said that the last four hundred and forty-six times. When are you gonna give it a rest?” Lisa chides, focused on her reflection in a pocket mirror as she fixes up any smudges. Soo-hyuk rolls his eyes with a “Oh great,” as he straightens the sleeves to his button up. “Don’t you have something better to do? Like talking shit with your little girlfriends?” Lisa scoffs and snaps the mirror shut. “We broke up. Just for a little while. This school year we’re all trying to individualize ourselves.” She explains. “Geez, you guys say it like you’re all apart of a girl group.” He deadpans as he walks past her. “And news flash, we really don’t care!” Lisa seethes.
”CL! There you are!”
Jiyong finally finds CL sitting down on a staircase no one really uses, scrolling on her phone. She looks up at Jiyong and instantly picks up something happened. She groans and pats the spot next to her. “I skip one assembly and your pacing as if you have twelve minutes to decide what you want to do with the rest of your life.”
”Make music,” Jiyong answers, even though it was not the important part of the sentence. “And sit? CL I can’t sit right now!” “Aish, Jiyong-ah you’re so dramatic.” She groans as she rolls her head back. “Alright,” she flicks her head towards Jiyong. “Spill it.” “Okay, so i’m minding my own business, right? And then he—” he gestures wildly, waving his hands erratically. “just shows up. Out of nowhere. And I swear to you, it was like some cheesy drama scene. Those eyes? Brown, sexy, chocolate? Dimples that make you forget how to speak? And then he calls me a kid and I go off on him, well—not really off, I just got on him a little bit, y’know?And then he just doesn’t care. And then at the assembly he sat next to me and just kept looking at me like he doesn’t even know what he’s doing. But trust me, CL, he knows. and now I’m just—” He clutches his chest. “I couldn’t breathe. Literally. My mouth went dry and, and he smells like sandalwood and honey, and every time I looked up, he was already looking at me.”
Jiyong pauses presses his knuckles against his forehead a few times. “And I looked away first every single time because I didn’t know what else to do! I don’t, CL. I don’t do.. This. I’ve never… felt this. Not like this. It’s not just attraction, it’s—ugh, I don’t even know, but I think I’m losing my mind.” No, he knows. But he’s not going to say all that.
CL? Yeah she’s confused as shit. She shakes her head. “Okay, wait wait wait—who are you talking about?” She gapes, eyes looking for any sense of a joke. Because like Jiyong just said, he doesn’t act like this. He never has, and frankly CL never thought he would. So who’s got him all jumbled up like this? Jiyong almost doesn’t even want to say his name. “Choi Seunghyun.” He whines and finally flops next to CL. She stares, and then finally everything clicks.
“Ohhh, that makes sense.” Jiyong looks up from his head in his hands. “What?” CL kisses her teeth and looks forward. “Yeah, it’s TOP. He’s like every man and womans dream. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who hasn’t had a crush on him, even for just a moment.” Jiyong pauses. “Wait…Does that include you?” CL doesn’t give an answer, but Jiyong has his speculations. “Well, whatever. I’m telling you though, CL. Everytime we look at each other my whole entire body feels on fire!” CL hums in acknowledgment. Okay she’s not saying she doesn’t believe Jiyong—her friend is many things, but not delusional. It’s just hard to believe, that’s all. No one’s even heard of Seunghyun going on a date with someone.
Then, as if fate was saying something, turning the hall is Seungri and Seunghyun. Jiyong squeaks and tilts his hat over his face.
”Dude, are you ready for our first soccer game of the season on Wednesday? I’m telling you, we’re taking that trophy home.” Seungri says from beside the schools golden boy. “Yeah, we do every year.” Seunghyun affirms in response. Then as Seungri continues to go on, he spots a familiar brown and bejeweled hat. His eyes stay on it as a target as he walks by, waiting and hoping for Jiyong to lift his head up so he can get a look at those pretty brown eyes. It doesn’t happen though, and he glances at CL from next to him and keeps walking. “Huh? What did you say?” He asks Seungri, who gets pissed off.
CL gapes. THAT was not how Seunghyun usually acted. “What the fuck, you weren’t kidding.” She says bluntly. Jiyong groans. Yet his heart flutters.
Chapter 3: Headphones to hear my heart pound
Notes:
Okay so the timeline of this is like 2009-2011, but certain things will be from the 21st century. For example, in this chapter they talk about social media slot, which yes there was back at the time, but trust it ain’t no MySpace lmao. Also, there may be a lil bit of slang from these past few years. But now you know.
Chapter Text
Lunch time
Thankfully Jiyong has his group of friends so he doesn’t have to have anxiety about where he’s sitting. After getting their food, as a group him, Daesung, Bom, and Taeyang walk over to a table and sit down. CL comes soon after, slamming her tray next to Jiyong as if she ran the place. “So how was your guises first class?” Daesung asks, trying to get a conversation started. “Pfft, class.” Bom snorts. “I had World Cultures. It wasn’t too bad, you can tell my teacher is very nice.” She informs. “Cool. I actually got enough college credits to have one less class. I kind of spent the time before the assembly trying to cheat the vending machine.” Taeyang then says. Jiyong isn’t paying much attention though—his eyes are glued to the door of the cafeteria, waiting for a certain lean frame and defined cheekbones. CL casts him a look he doesn’t notice, nor would he be able to decipher, and Daesung trails off when he notices his friends gaze. He feels like he’s on the outside of an inside joke, or that it’s his birthday and all his friends are being suspicious, yet won’t let anything slip. What’s going on with Jiyong? Daesung has got to find out.
When Jiyong finally saw Seungri burst through the doors, he knew who was to follow.
The cafeteria collectively slowed down, everyone stopping to watch as Seunghyun enters the room. Where would he sit at? Who would he sit with? Jocks called his name as if they were close friends, cheerleaders smiled into their hands and whispered to each other, nerds peeked over their sandwiches and sulked, knowing their possibilities were slim to none. Some even thought Seunghyun would just sit at an empty table, feeling as though he thought he was too good to sit with others. Seunghyun himself isn’t too sure how he got that narrative; never has he been mean, or boisterous about his status. Hell, he doesn’t even care about his status. It’s not like any of the people who kiss the ground he walks on now spared him any of their time back in middle school, when he was chubby and therefore “too fat to be loved” leaving Seunghyun to feel ostracized and alone. The thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
So maybe he should sit by himself and feed those people’s delusions, it would sure be better than sitting with people who want to leech off of his benefits, rather than himself as a person. He sighs as he grabs his tray from the lunch lady, noticing a cookie that nobody else has. He sends a smile her way, though he feels a pang of culpability. Since Seunghyun has a handsome face and nice attitude he’s being given treats? He’s positive there are students much more deserving than him. Students who actually excel classes, who do things for the school, who care. “Hyung, why are you looking at your food like that? It’s just a cookie.” Seungri says with his tray once Seunghyuns walks out of the line with his own, glaring at the sweet treat. “Yeah, it’s just a cookie…” he parrots, though with a more underlying meaning. He looks back up towards the sea of students. His eyes land on a special one.
Sticking out like an utterly gorgeous thumb, sits Jiyong, who for the first time is looking at Seunghyun first. He smiles and beelines towards their table.
Meanwhile there’s Jiyong, stabbing a piece of kimchi with his fork and spacing out. A new episode of this show he likes comes out tonight, but other than that the rest of his day after school will be pretty boring. Great. Just one of the perks of having your dad breathing hard as fuck down your back.
But when he finally peeked up?
There he was.
Seunghyun was at his table, placing his tray down softly (and a little hesitantly) on the table after Daesung scooches down to make space, and sits down. He looks at Jiyong. Again. But not just casually. Like—really looking .
Chaelin elbowed Jiyong. “Say something,” she hissed.
Jiyong cleared his throat. There was a lot happening at once. He could feel the other tables in the cafeteria seething with jealousy. Seunghyun? Chooses that table? Jiyong is known, just not with the best reputation. The kid who snuck onto school grounds last year on a dare to graffiti the building, has caught the attention and respect of the most loved person in the school. He feels his lip twitch. “Uh, so… I noticed you always got headphones on,” he said, leaning slightly closer. “What do you usually listen to?” Seunghyun smiled. This is a question he can get behind. His dimples showed, easily penetrating the shorter man’s heart. His looks are murderous. “Mostly rap,” he said. “Old stuff. Kanye. Pharrell. That era.” Jiyong beamed before he could stop it. “Solid. I’m a big Ye fan too. And you know biggie’s Ready to Die album? Crazy work.”Seunghyun grinned at that and nodded, agreeing fully. “‘We Major’ is a classic.” Seunghyun comments swiftly, knowing the reaction Jiyong would have if he was a real fan. The bright-haired man gasped. “You KNOW about ‘We Major’?! A ‘Late Registration’ hidden gem.”And just like that, it was on . The two spiraled. Back and forth. Music tastes. Beats they liked. Who had the better flow: Jay-Z or Nas. Favorite albums. Underground producers. Even K-pop legends they respected. Their energy bounced off each other like magnets. Nothing else existed. Chaelin sat back, stunned.
Jiyong rarely ever got this open. Especially to someone he just met? This animated. This… charmed.
Daesung quietly resumed his convo with Bom, casting Jiyong and Seunghyun a skeptical look briefly. Taeyang side eyed Seungri after he said something highly misogynistic. Sigh, what’s new.
Still though did Jiyong and Seunghyun keep going.
Jiyong didn’t even realize how close they’d leaned in. They both hovered over their own trays of food. Seunghyun was smiling at him like he was listening . Not just waiting to talk. It was refreshing, especially to talk about a topic that not many else were as passionate about. Seunghyun being attractive was already a known fact, but he’s also fun to talk to. And, weirdly enough, hilarious. It’s pleasantly unexpected. All good things must come to an end though, and the bell rings, racking the two out of their own little bubble. As students groan and clean up their messes, Jiyong and Seunghyun sit still. “I don’t wanna go to class.” He mutters. This has definitely been the highlight of his day, and he knows nothing else will be able to top it. This was the most fluent, ardent, and enjoyable conversation Jiyong has had in a moment. And he’s sure if he was allowed the house more this summer still would nothing top it. And then, before Jiyong could even process what was happening, Seunghyun had took the headphones from around his neck, leaned forward, and placed them over Jiyongs ears. His breath go caught from how close in proximity he was to Seunghyun for a moment. The Sandalwood and honey even stronger than ever and his breathing was even and smooth. Everything felt like a dream for a moment until Jiyongs breath finally released. Once Seunghyun gets out of his seat and pulls out his phone to press play, the man smirks.
The world is yours by Nas plays~
”Just so you’ll think of me.” Seunghyun smiles, and just like that does he continue walking away. Jiyong is frozen in shock and disbelief. Surely this man did not just give him his headphones. Surely this man did not just rock his world in nothing but a few hours. Surely Jiyong was not falling for it. “Okay,” Daesung slams the table. “Can someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?” He demands. CL smirks. “Just wait until you guys hear this,” she says, speaking to not only Daesung but Taeyang and Bom aswell. Jiyong slid the headphones from off his ear and to his neck, feeling the soft, pliant cushion on his finger tips.
He was falling for it.
Seunghyun is still feeling the buzz from his uncalled burst confidence earlier. Giving Jiyong his headphones was not something he had planned, a few times throughout the rest of the day he found himself regretting it just a little. With no headphones to listen to music, he was forced to listen and pay attention to the melancholy halls and classrooms of the school.
He’d left his playlist running though, so every now and then he’d go and check what song was playing at the moment, grinning when it was a song he particularly enjoyed. Then he wondered if Jiyong liked the song too. Seunghyuns fairly sure he does. He doesn’t see him much for the rest of the day though, internally berating himself for not asking for his number. Thankfully nowadays there is social media, and Seunghyun just reminds himself to find the boys instagram when he gets the chance.
When he gets home, he’s immediately interrogated by his mother. “So how was it? Make any new friends? How are your teachers? Do you like your classes?” “One at a time, eomma.” Seunghyun pleads as he drops his backpack near the staircase to remind himself to take it up the next time he goes to his room. His mom smiles sheepishly as she waters the flower pots on a shelf near a grand window. “I just wanna know how your day was, Hyung. That’s all. You’re never to old for me to not worry about you.” She then says very solemnly, reversing the atmosphere. Seunghyun breaths in sharply. She’s expressing her emotions and expecting him to return the favor.
Well frankly Seunghyuns confronted too many emotions for one day. “I’m going to go take a nap.” He announces, and hears her sigh heavily as he drags his backpack up the stairs with him. “Hey, where’s your headphones?” He hears her call from the first floor. Seunghyun pretends not to hear.
”Why are you in my room?” Seunghyun groans, when the moment he opens his door he sees his sister, Hye-yoon on his bed. “You have a bigger tv! Don’t get mad at me because you’re the favorite.” She sasses. “It’s called younger sibling syndrome. Now move it!” He walks closer to his bed and lightly shoves her off of it to sit down and plug his phone in the charger that’s near him. He glances at the Tv. “And get boys over flowers off my screen!” He bleats. “Ugh, I forgot you hate anything with feelings.” Hye-yoon teases with an over exaggerated eye roll. Seunghyun laughs dryly in response. “Ha ha. Very funny.” It falls into a comfortable silence after that. Hye-yoon leans back on Seunghyuns bed frame while he’s on his bed scrolling through his socials. “Play something on my turntable.” He murmurs. “If I do then you better not complain about what I choose.” She grumbles, because no matter what Seunghyun always has something to say about what vinyl she picks—even though they’re all his! Seunghyun hears shuffling before the static of a song beginning to play
Take me tonight
Tell me, tell me baby
Take me tonight
Take me in your arms
Take me tonight
Tell me, tell me baby
Take me tonight
Take me in your arms
”You’ve gotta be kidding me.” “See! You always complain! Since when did you not like Baby V.O.X!?” Hye-yoon exclaims, shooting her brother a glare. Seunghyun just grunts and doesn’t give a full answer. As if the song Seunghyun wants to hear right now is a provocative song. Because now he’s thinking of a certain pair of legs. Hye-yoon glances at him. At least the song gives him the reminder he needed to go on Instagram and look up his name.
The results popped up once he typed in the name ‘Jiyong’, and instantly his brow furrowed. Hundreds of profiles. Every other guy in Korea apparently shared the name, and most of them had profile pictures blurry enough to be security footage. He scrolled, tapped one. Found out it was wrong guy. Backed out. Tried again. And was wrong again.
“Ugh,” he grunted under his breath. This might be a tad bit more tedious than he previously thought.
“What?” Hye-yoon asked, not diverting her attention away from the TV.
“Nothing,” he said quickly, sitting up just enough to tuck his phone closer to his chest. “Someone mentioned me in an ugly photo.”
She side eyed. “I thought you turned off the option for people to mention you in things after that girl @‘d you in that post you didn’t like.”
“Then I lied,” he muttered, glaring at the back of her head and opening them wider when she turned to face him. “I’m watching a YouTube video.” Hye-yoon tilted her head. It’s unlike Seunghyun to lie. And about…a YouTube video? If he was watching erotic videos on a website then it would be understandable to lie, but..okay, everything Seunghyun just said didn’t make sense but she’s too engulfed in her show to really dwell on it. She will be returning to this topic though!
He exhaled slowly and went back to the hunt, narrowing his eyes like the screen was trying to hide the truth from him. And then, at last, he had found it.
Ji.Dragon_.
The profile picture hit first: Jiyong in oversized sunglasses, head tilted as he was on a balcony, probably on some vacation. His hair color in the photo is different, a light blonde, and it caught the sunlight perfectly, and his lashes looked extra elongated. His bio was short but somehow perfectly him:
💥 FallomeFallomeFallome 💥
Just kno my name matches me
📍 somewhere better than here
Seunghyun scrolled through the grid that showcased unapologetically loud outfits, cryptic captions, and candid shots that looked like they belonged in a magazine spread. It was chaotic and magnetic and entirely Jiyong, every pixel buzzing with the same energy he gave off in person.
Seunghyun’s lips tugged into a reluctant smile. “Hyung, are you smiling?” In a flash is his grin wiped clean off his face, replaced with an expression of irritation. “No—actually? Your time is up. Get out.” He orders, snatching the remote before Hye-yooo can and turning the TV show off. She stands up and growls. “Fine! But I’m getting to the bottom of this, Hyung. I know something is up!” She yells, making a big show of stomping out of Seunghyuns room and shutting the door lightly. For someone a couple years older than him, she sure acts like a brat.
Seunghyun can’t find it in himself to care too much, pulling his phone back out and continuing his stalking. He continues to look at some pictures of Jiyong, learning a few things along the way; his birthday is on August 18th, he loves hello kitty (seems pretty on brand if your asking Seunghyun), and although he already knew this one, is a big fan of music. In a lot of pictures located in his room there are posters and trinkets, specifically from artists like Pharrell Williams, Jinusean, and of course Kanye west. Enough time goes by to where the sun outside is slowly setting, and Seunghyun has seen just about everything there is to see on Jiyongs account. Feeling fulfilled (and a little dirty—he feels like a creepy stalker), he finally pinpoints his eyes onto the ‘follow’ button. Would that come off as weird? Should Seunghyun press it? I mean, it’s only been a day, and Jiyong might not even swing that way. Or maybe he does, and Seunghyun isn’t his type. Or maybe
Seunghyun clicks it before he can overthink.
Across the city of Seoul lay Jiyong in his room, on the phone with both CL and Daesung. The latter is relieved to finally know what’s been going on. “I knew something was up, Ji! I’ve haven’t seen you gush about something like that in a while” he says through the screen, almost a little delighted. Jiyong flushes and buries his head in his giant Hello Kitty plush for a moment. There’s a beat before Daesung speaks up again. “I just..wow. I would have never expected it. I mean, you didn’t even know his name until this morning. Surely you guys have skipped a few steps.”
Jiyong bites his lip. “I didn’t believe this little man for a second until I saw it happen with my two front eyes. But let me tell you—” CL paused for dramatic effect, “—the tension was giving a five star Telenovela episode.”
“Oh my god.” Daesung sounded genuinely rattled now. “Jiyong, I’ve seen you do some wild shit, but him? He’s like… tall, quiet, scary-hot guy. You’re…” “Fun-sized chaos in shorts no straight man would ever wear?” Jiyong suggested, smirking even though they couldn’t see it. “Exactly!” Daesung groaned. “How does this even happen?”
CL laughed. “Honestly? I don’t know. One second they’re both in their own worlds. They’re two, totally different worlds. And then the next they’re staring at each other like they’re about to make out.” Jiyong gasps, not expecting her to say that. He laughs meekly. “You guys are so dramatic,” Jiyong said, blowing on his nails that he had started painting. “It’s not even a thing. We just… We just look at each other a lot.”
“Uh-huh,” Daesung deadpanned. “And talked to each other during lunch as if no one else was at the table. Go figure” “Whatever,” Jiyong hummed, trying to sound unbothered. “Y’all just better not scare him off before I figure out if I actually like him, or if I’m just bored.” Jiyong already knows what the answer is.
CL snorted. “Baby, with that hair and that attitude? Yeah, I think he’s the one who’s in trouble.” Jiyongs finger nails are finished, and he closes the bottles of polish before letting out a sigh. Suddenly, the weight of the day and the events they held finally take their toll on Jiyong, and his eyes feel heavy. “It’s getting late. And, y’know, my sleep schedules been kind of amazing lately thanks to my dad. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” Jiyong yawns. “Okay..goodnight, Ji’.” Daesung farewells before leaving the group call. “Later, freak.” CL then also says, too hanging up.
At last Jiyong is alone with his thoughts. Today was a crazy, amazing, exhausting, and an emotional day. He stares at his ceiling with his phone above his head. The quiet of his room felt heavier than usual, his thoughts looping back to Seunghyun and their many encounters today. This feeling was… strange. Foreign, even. Jiyong wasn’t sure if he was even interpreting it right. Was this a crush? Just plain curiosity? A flicker of sexual attraction? Or maybe the pull was purely platonic, a simple interest in knowing someone who shared the same qualities as him. But then again…Could it be romantic? The uncertainty gnawed at him, and for once, Jiyong couldn’t just file it away, laugh it off, or bury it under a killer outfit. It lingered, warm and disorienting, dropping the entire rooms temperature when he reminisces the way Seunghyun would look at him like the world revolved around every single word that would spill out his mouth. His spark between him and Seunghyun was something he could not pinpoint the match. Who set it on fire? Who would keep it ignited? Only time could tell.
but fuck does Jiyong not want to waste a single second. He doesn’t even want to go to sleep for crying out loud. Suddenly, he hears a ping come from his phone. When he sees the notification was by Seunghyun, following his account? His heart stops, brain explodes, and jaw drops. He even rakes a hand through his hair in both disbelief and to fix his mess of a hairdo right now, as if the man could see him through the screen somehow. He clicks on his account.
The profile picture was maddeningly low-effort; Seunghyun half-reclined in his own bed, hair a little messy, wearing a plain black hoodie, smoldering at the camera. It was the kind of photo that looked like he’d taken it without thinking, yet still came out looking like it belonged on a magazine cover.
Followers: 6,872. Following: 41.
Bio: Kanye is my GOAT. Soccer #1. TOP.
Jiyong scrolled, and yeah, jaw-dropping was an understatement.
Most of the grid was filled with crisp, professionally shot photos of him on the soccer field. Mid-stride, hair damp with sweat, the ball at his feet like it belonged there. You could practically hear the crowd in the background. Then there were the blur shots. One with his back facing the camera as he walked down some neon-lit street, another his side profile captured from across the room, and then one of him half-turned in a café, unaware.
The vibe shifted with a few photos of him leaning casually against a sleek, all-black car that screamed money without trying. And then there were some mirror picks. One with Seunghyun in a dark hoodie, LED lights glowing blue and purple in the background, phone half-covering his face but somehow still looking like he could model for Saint Laurent.
Jiyong exhaled slowly, thumb hovering over the “follow back” button. Yeah… this man knew exactly what he was doing. Should he give Seunghyun the satisfaction? Jiyong didn’t want to be easy. Okay, wait, Jiyong is getting ahead of himself. All Seunghyun did was follow him. This doesn’t mean anything. Nothing at all.
Then he’s reminded that out of the thousands of followers Seunghyun holds, he only has a following count of 41.
Jiyong is one of that 41. And got it in a day. He almost chuckles at the hundreds of other people probably dreaming of getting a follow back from Seunghyun.
He follows back.
Now Jiyong feels a little more content. It’s now clear that Seunghyun had been thinking of him, and that’s all he needed. He’s not going to scroll through all of his posts until he reaches the end, he’s not going to scan them all for any signs of a girlfriend, he’s not going to go through all of his followers to see if any looks better than him. Nope. Not at all.
Jiyong turns his phone back on.
Chapter 4: Was my heart the goal?
Notes:
The whole TOP being great at soccer thing is a joke. Have any VIPS seen that clip of him playing soccer terribly?? Lmaooo
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
When Jiyong walks into school the next day, he feels like a new person.
Because he’s being treated like a new person.
As soon as he steps through the door, all eyes are on him. As he walked down the hall, maybe a little cautiously, the whispers erupted. The stares stuck. But they weren’t in their usual way; they weren’t about his foul language, or disrespectful behavior towards superiors, or the long list of suspensions and punishments he’s been subjected to. They were about Seunghyun,
and his headphones that were around his neck.
They sat there like a crown, so Jiyong had wore it as one. He didn’t expose it in a boisterous way, just tilted his head a little higher than usual. His steps weren’t cautious no more, they never really were, just slightly more confident. He felt as though he owned these halls. He couldn’t be touched. Finally the attention he got wasn’t in a dim light, in mockery. It felt weirdly exhilarating.
Eyes followed him down the hallways like shadows. “Are those…his?” He hears someone ask. “Since when did Seunghyun give people his things.”
So maybe there was a little mockery, a little jealousy, a little hate. It’s nothing Jiyong hasn’t felt before. And if he did, it didn’t matter.
Because today?
Today Jiyong looked damn good.
He one hundred percent will admit that he hogged the bathroom for about an extra hour. His outfit had been planned meticulously, everything intentional. Jiyong had then laughed to himself over the fact that he’s trying harder to look better the second day of school than the first. Well, shit, okay the first day of school he didn’t have a tall, hot guy following his instagram account. So go figure.
Jiyong pulls a plain white shirt over his head, smoothing it down and deciding to leave the shoulders untouched this time. The fabric feels crisp against his skin, a blank canvas for what’s coming next. He throws a treron-green bomber jacket over it, the sleeves puffed, the surface scattered with dozens of pins. Some tiny enamel faces, others from bands he likes, and some shapes that clink faintly as he moves for his next pair of clothing.
His jeans are next, which are a pair of black ones that fit snug but still remain comfortable, the color is worn just enough to look lived in. He hooks a coyote tail chain to one of the belt loops, letting it hang loose at his side so it sways with each shift of his hips.
Gold catches the light as he slips on his rings, one after the other, and fastens a necklace so it rests just above his collarbone. He studies the effect in the mirror for a second, tilting his head before finally bending down to slide on a pair of black Vans. Simple, but clean. They’re the kind of shoes that won’t distract most from the rest of the outfit, but still say he knows exactly what he’s doing.
His hair was just as prominent, with making the perfect messy, tidy, and fluffy ratio and making sure a strand is not out of place. His eyeliner was effortlessly winged on the first try, which had already told Jiyong he was about to have a perfect day. He had tinted his lips a little bit and after that? Jiyong was about to leave a mark on anybody who seen him today.
He gave an apologetic look to his sister, Dami, as he finally opened the bathroom door. “Sorry, nuna.” He says, staring at his sisters disheveled and clearly still tired form. She rubs her eye. “Yeah, if you were sorry you wouldn’t have been in the bathroom for almost two hours.” She grumbles as she shuts the door behind her once she finally enters. “It was not almost two hours!” It totally was.
But he wasn’t going to admit that.
Back to the endless halls of Jiyongs school, he stops at his locker to put some things in it.
Not too far away from him is Jennie and Lisa. “Did you see Kwon Jiyong wearing Choi Seunghyuns headphones?” She asks hushedly, already getting the gossip going early in the morning. Jennie twists her Lipstick and closes it before dropping it in her bag. “Who doesn’t? Lisa, we just watched him walk down the hall.” Lisa reverse eye rolls. “Yeah, I know. But, like, I just wanted to talk about it. So I just said it like that to get the conversation going.” She explains, and there’s a pregnant pause. “Y’know what I mean?” Lisa adds on with a blink. “Of course I know what you mean, Lisa!” “Okay well you were acting like you didn’t!” They get into a little back and forth, the original topic forgotten before it could even start.
”I swear all they do is fight.” Bang Chan cringes as he walks by. “Yeah. That’s why I like talking to Irene and the other Red Velvet girls better..” Felix then jokes with a chuckle as him and the rest of their friend group continue to walk down the hallway.
Then, the schools golden boy enters.
His hair was slightly tousled, like he’d run a hand through it casually but it fell perfectly . He wore a plain white tee with jorts —yes, jorts, and somehow still looked hotter than most models. His Jordans tapped the floor in a smooth rhythm, one hand in his pocket, the other adjusting his hat. A subtle gold bracelet glinted under his sleeve.
People melted . “Looking fire, bro.” “Yo, you ready for the game tomorrow?” He greeted a few people with an absent-minded cool. Nods. Half-smiles. And they all ate it up as if their entire high school was waiting on his every move.
And then
Their eyes met.
Across the hallway.
And the world paused.
People were still talking, still walking, still watching, but for Jiyong? It was just him. Like the crowd faded into blur. This seems to always happen when they’re around each other.
They walked toward each other, slow, steps in unison. People naturally parted like magnets shifting out of the way.
When they stopped, they were maybe one foot apart . Too close for casual conversation. Not close enough to touch. But dangerously close to something…electric.
Seunghyun’s eyes dipped down to the headphones after a moment of them just staring at each other.
And then right back up.
“I see you’re hearing my headphones,” he said, voice a full octave lower than yesterday. Lazy. Flirty. Dangerous. More straightforward than Jiyong had been expecting.
Jiyong’s brain short-circuited. but his mouth?
His mouth never failed him.
“Yeah?” he shrugged, lips curling into a smirk. “Well how could I not? Not when they belong to ‘The Seunghyun.’”
He pitched his voice high at the end, mimicking the cheerleaders’ fawning tone.
“Seunghyunnnn~ ” Seunghyun laughed unexpectedly. The mock was too spot on. “Well I’m happy you did,” he smiles, before it turns to something more sinister. “Cause I’m gonna need them back—“ he reaches towards Jiyongs neck, who quickly retracts. “Woahwoahwoah, not gonna happen! This is why you don’t give your stuff to strangers,” he laughs as he dodges another lunge by Seunghyun. “You never know when your gonna get them back!”
”You’re right. I guess I just have a weakness to cute strangers.” Jiyong freezes, creating the perfect pocket of time for Seunghyun take his headphones back. Only he doesn’t.
“You should come to my soccer game, tomorrow.” He then randomly invites, and clearly a little embarrassed to do so. Jiyong decides to give him some payback. “Maybe. Will I get to see you sweat?” He grins, asking the question as innocently as he can. He moves closer to him again. Seunghyun smirks and shakes his head. “Depends how hard you make me work. I play my best when I have motivation.” He counters, and Jiyong quickly finds himself losing. Again. The intimacy has him about to pass out. “Guess I’ll have to bring out my best cheer moves” he replies, a little wobbly. Is this too far?
It seems not by Seunghyuns expression. He’s definitely enjoying it. Seunghyun raises a brow before asking, “You cheer?” With a head tilt. Intrigued. Jiyong takes a step back before he says what he thinks he’s going to.
”Yep. It keeps me flexible.” And he turns on his heel and walks as fast as he can without looking suspicious. Anyone who sees his front profile though will think he just ate a lemon. Seunghyun blinks, pleasantly surprised. He lets out a chuckle and turns around himself, connecting to his headphones again and playing a song.
By the time Jiyong finds his group of friends, the headphones wrapped around his neck suddenly bursts to life with a song.
It’s Rewind by the Wondergirls
“Before the 엔딩 크레딧
첨부터 다시 찍어 이 무비
다 엎어 기승전 너로 족해
웃을 수 없다면 결관 뻔해”
Just about the rest of the school day goes by in a flash for Jiyong. He basically worked on autopilot during all his classes, hoping make the next day come quicker. Thus, the school day had blurred, turning everything into background noise. Static. The lesson plans for the year, the announcements, the gossip, were all just ad-libs in Jiyongs mind.
People were talking. Things were happening. Teachers called his name and he responded automatically. He took notes, doodled little stars in the margins of his notebook, laughed when Daesung did dumb impressions of their geometry teacher. Still, the memories of it will remain minimal, if not totally forgotten in a couple of months.
In between classes Jiyong finds more people saying ‘hi’ to him, and a weird glance at Jennie, the schools probably most popular girl, who sends a…Smile his way. He feels a weird shiver. “Looks like your little boyfriend has got you walking around as if you’re on a runway,” CL teased, chewing gum and bumping him with her shoulder as they walked to fourth period.“He’s not my boyfriend,” Jiyong said, adjusting his hair in his phone camera as they continue to walk. Again. “He’s just… y’know. Him.”
“‘Him’ as in; ‘giving you butterflies and clout’. Got it.” she smirked. He flipped her off, but smiled into it. Truth was, he’d looked in that little selfie camera about eighty times since he got to school. Just to make sure his hair was fluffy. That his lip tint wasn’t smudged. That he looked like someone worth crushing on. He wanted to look wanted.
Because he was
The only time the day wasn’t feeling like a ‘filler in episode’ was during lunch. It kicked off almost identical to the day before.
He sat at the same table, with Daesung cracking jokes, Chaerin peeling fruit with her fake ass pocketknife, Taeyang scrolling on his phone. And then, just like yesterday
He appeared.
Seunghyun.
Big hands. Loose hoodie. Hat backwards. Looking like a snack, a meal, and, shit, a whole Michelin-starred restaurant.
He dropped his tray onto the table with a clack and locked eyes with Jiyong, dimples showing. It was a big contrast to the day before, where he had softly, maybe even timidly, placed his tray onto the table. “Tupac or Biggie. Go.” Not even hello . Just challenge . Jiyong didn’t hesitate.“Biggie. His flow is ridiculous. Never made a bad hook. Icon.”
Seunghyun grinned. “Facts.” “But Pac’s lyricism is more gut-wrenching. And his political voice—” “Completely agree.”“Production wise though—” “Pac’s early stuff is untouchable.”
Jiyong blinked. “Damn it.” They kept going, Nas Jay-Z, Missy Elliott, Timbaland. Every answer matched. Every take was validated. You couldn’t understand what the hell they were talking about unless you were them. They were debating, but really?
It was a duet.
And Jiyong knew that. He was riding the wave, adding inputs that Seunghyun agreed with every time, side eyeing the man’s hand where it lazily tapped the table. Watching the way his lips moved around the word “Outkast” like it meant something holy.
And then,
The noise had disappeared again.
Muffled. Gone.
Jiyong wasn’t hearing the conversation anymore. Not even his own voice.
He was watching.
Seunghyun’s dimples. Or the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed. The catlike slant of his lashes. The little scar under his eyebrow he’d never noticed before.
That scent —The Sandalwood and honey, an aroma he wouldn’t mind smelling forever.
And the way he leaned in, like he wanted to hear Jiyong. Like no one else existed at the table.
Jiyong felt hot.
And not just cute guy hot. Deliriously, embarrassingly, soul-splittingly hot.
He didn’t even know what he wanted .
To kiss? To marry? Okay, woah Jiyong. To stare forever?
All he knew though was that this boy had slipped past all his defenses in less than two days .
And now he was just.. done . “I think I’m in heat,” Jiyong whispered, leaning into his friend with a horrified look. “What?” CL said from beside him. “Nothing,” he coughed, stabbing a grape like it owed him money. Taeyang and Seungri were arguing over who would win in a dance battle, but Jiyong wasn’t listening. His whole world was a dimpled soccer player with eyes like dusk and the power to short-circuit his hormones. And the worst part?
It wasn’t even sexual.
Well, not for the most part.
It was worse than that.
Jiyong was thinking about…eugh, romantic stuff
Like, late night phone calls, for example. Or playing golf against him and then right after hitting the city to just have fun. Grocery shopping together. Sharing airpods on the train. Laying in bed and saying nothing and still feeling full.
It was dangerous.
The bell rang, but Jiyong stayed frozen for a second.“You good?” Seunghyun asked, brushing his fingers through his hair. Jiyong blinked fast and smiled too big.
“Y-Yeah. Totally. Cool. Fine. Chill. All of the above.” Seunghyun raised an eyebrow and grinned like he knew . And just like that, he was up. Jiyong does the same.
They brush shoulders as Seunghyun walks past.
But not before murmuring low: “Don’t forget your VIP seat.” Jiyong stood still, blinking. Frozen.
As he turned the corner to his class, with that same lazy swag that made people stare, and his Backpack swinging with those broad shoulders, he tugged on the headphones.
Nas was still playing.
His lips slowly curled into a grin. Jiyongs gonna step his game up for sure.
When Jiyong gets home, you better believe he makes a dash up towards his room. He hears his parents call his name and protest, but he has literal hours, unfortunately, to talk to them. What’s more important now is picking out what the hell he is going to wear tomorrow. Planning in advance is just about detrimental at the moment, because something’s telling him he won’t have enough time to properly prepare a perfect outfit, do his hair and minimal makeup, and have at least fifteen minutes to eat breakfast.
He rubs his chin as he stares at the vast array of outfits, not sure which is the best option. “Oh how I wish appa would let me wear short-shorts.” He sighs. Dami walks by his open bedroom door to go to the bathroom, but pauses when she gets a glance of what’s going on. She backtracks to the doorway. “Uh, what are you doing?” She asks, staring dumbfounding. Then, she connects the dots and gasps.
She turns her back for a moment and starts talking again, but quieter. “Are you sneaking out again? Ji’, you know how dad has been.” Jiyong perks up, looking between Dami and his pile of outfit choices. “I’m not sneaking out,” he groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Tomorrow’s just…An important day.” So now Dami is super confused. “Big day? What about tomorrow could possibly be important to you?” She’s aching for some answers. And she heard the way Jiyong practically catapulted himself up the stairs. What’s got him so..excited, she wants to say. “I know, right?” He laughs wryly, and then stares at his clothes with an almost..solemn smile? What the fuck is going on?
”Uh, okay. I’m just…” She stares at the scene in front of her one more time. “I’m just gonna go watch my show.” Bathroom be damned.
She’s not even sure Jiyong heard her.
Then it was a few minutes from the Soccer game.
Okay, call it heinous, but Jiyong faked ill and camped in the nurses office the whole entire school day. Even lunch, which Jiyong was sad to miss, because he was sure his conversation with Seunghyun would have been just as amazing as the last two, but it would have been too suspicious. It worked out in the end though, because the day had went by quickly and before Jiyong knew it, he was sending a text to his father saying he would be hanging out with Daesung.
Daesung was one of his only friends that his dad approved of; but that’s because Daesung really was that nice of a person. He respected others boundaries, always made sure people were okay, supported his friends through anything, and always made the right decisions. Jiyong actually came out to Daesung before his own family, that’s how much he trusted him.
But now he was using it to his advantage as he went up the steps of the bleachers. Jiyong had found a way to cut corners, by wearing shorts that he could easily hike up. They were vulgar, just showed a tiny slip of cheek. Paired with his bottoms was a striking red and yellow striped shirt with a collar, but it wasn't a standard, relaxed fit; he'd tied the hem at his waist and then wore a hat from his infamous collection, this one being red. On his feet were a pair of classic Sambas, the three white stripes standing out against the maroon colored leather, their timeless design grounding the whole outfit.
The field was loud.
There were screams, Horns, and Cleats scraping on turf as some of the players warmed up. The sky had already started glowing a soft sherbet orange, with the sun slipping down, casting gold onto the bleachers and the heat rising from the ground. Jiyong was late, of course he was (We’ll just chalk it up to being fashionably late), but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to find a seat that matched his standards. I mean, hello, he was invited by Seunghyun. So yeah, he’s getting a front row. He looked around with the headphones on his neck like an honorary badge.
Then, out of nowhere, a senior in a team windbreaker walked straight toward him.“You’re Seunghyun’s friend, right?”
Jiyong blinked. “Uh…” “Come with me.” And without awaiting a response, the guy turned, leading him through the rows, past people craning their necks. And then right at the bottom.
A seat. Front and center. Empty. Reserved. “Best seat in the house,” the guy said casually, nodding. “For Seunghyun’s friend.” And it had an undertone of something else.
Jiyong wanted to squeal.
Instead, he chewed the inside of his cheek and tried not to beam like a little bitch.“Right,” he said, sitting with fake chill, legs crossed, face neutral. “Cool. I’ll, uh. Sit here.” He tucked Seunghyuns headphones inside his bag, pretending like he didn’t feel every single person in the area watching him, and looked ahead, only to realize though that he wasn’t alone.
To his right was Lee Byung-hun.
And Next to him was Lee Jung-jae.
Both were Seniors, too. Just one’s that he had never encountered.
Ones that he couldn’t encounter.
Byung-hun was infamous for his dead-serious face and movie-star jawline. Rarely spoke. Unreachable. But that didn’t necessarily mean he was a bad person. There’s many stories of people close to him that he’s actually funny, and…nice. It sounds weird even thinking of it. That stone-cold face? Smiling? Kekekekeke
And Jung-jae? The exact opposite. Warm smile. Easy laugh. Everyone loved him. He was enviously caring, putting anyone in front of himself. To be so charitable must be exhausting, but you could never tell with Jung-Jae. If anything he thrives off of it. Him and Byung-hun are often with each other, and Jiyong cannot help but just wonder why? How? They don’t even seem like they’d agree on a single thing. But then again that’s probably how many are thinking of him and Seunghyun right now.
Jiyong almost slid off the bench. “Hey,” Jung-jae said, grinning wide. “Didn’t know you and Seunghyun were close.”
“We’re not,” Jiyong blurted. “I mean, not close. We’re just, like, medium. Acquainted. Mutual headphone sharing level closeness.” Byung-hun raised an eyebrow and glanced at Jung-Jae. “I don’t think ‘acquaintances’ share headphones and invite each other to their soccer games.” Jung-jae laughed. “I don’t even think I’ve seen TOP invite his parents.” And like that, they were good. And then right after the whistle blew.
And there he was.
Emerging was Choi Seunghyun in a soccer uniform that should’ve been illegal. His jersey was black and red and clung to his back. His shin guards were tight, socks pulled high, hair damp already from warm-ups, cheeks flushed just slightly, with a small grin plastered on his face as he scanned the crowd. Then their eyes met. Again. Right there. From the mid-field.
Jiyong’s heart screamed. Seunghyun smirked , slow, like he was expecting him. He was.
then game began.
And Jiyong didn’t know shit about soccer. But he learned fast when Seunghyun was involved.
The boy was a machine; fast, sharp, every step calculated, but loose like shoelaces. He moved like he was dancing, in a way, like a predator in Jordans, and every time the ball hit his foot, it felt like the world slowed.
He’d hit one goal.
Then another.
Then three more.
The crowd was losing it.
The bleachers were vibrating.
And people were on their feet.
Someone behind Jiyong screamed, “OH MY GOD HE’S SO HOT! LOOK AT HIS SHOULDERS.” pointing in the direction of Seunghyun. Jiyong rolled his eyes and slouched in his seat. “Pipe down, Hiyun. He already gave me his headphones.” He grumbled. But okay, fine. They weren’t wrong.
Seunghyun was hot.
Especially now, with sweat running down his jaw, and breathing heavy through parted lips, eyes trained on the goal like a soldier.
At one point, he jogged off for a short break. There was a towel around his neck, a water bottle in hand, and he had dumped it straight down his chest.
Jiyong almost passed out. That was all too intentional.
Sweat. Jersey. Abs. ABS.
Then there was the slight lift of the fabric, just enough to see a glimpse of hard muscle. Slick skin. Hair stuck to his forehead. And then,
He fanned himself.
He lifted his shirt halfway and just held it there while he caught his breath.
Jiyong was panting too. Sitting down. Doing nothing. Just… reacting .
His thighs twitched. His hands were clammy. His brain was glitching. “He’s ridiculous,” Jiyong muttered under his breath. He feels like he’s going through puberty all over again, overstimulated by hormones and dirty thoughts. He would hide his face in his hands if he didn’t want to keep watching the eye-candy.
“You okay there?” Jung-jae leaned over to ask, clearly amused. Jiyong laughed nervously. “Yeah. Yeah. Just allergic to… athletic excellence.” Byung-hun watched Jiyong like a chessboard.
Now its halftime and the scoreboard is 12-37.
Seunghyun jogged over to the edge of the stands, waving off a teammate’s backpat and heading straight to Jiyong’s seat.
Still sweaty. Still gleaming. Still the most beautiful person Jiyong has ever seen. “Am I doing good so far?” Seunghyun asked, tilting his head with that killer grin, still slightly out of breath. Jiyong bites his lip before responding.
“I don’t know,” he teases as he rocked his body forward, voice sweet. “How bad is 12-37?” Seunghyun laughed, harder than he expected, with his whole chest shaking, dimples deep , and eyes creasing. He stepped back, head shaking like he couldn’t believe him. “Not bad enough,” he called out, already jogging backwards. “Next point’ll be for you.”
Jiyong stood up a bit, cupping his hands around his mouth. “I thought all the points were for me!” Seunghyun winked and turned away. Jiyong sat down, flushed as hell.
Jung-jae blinked.
Byung-hun blinked.
Then they slowly turned to look at each other. A pause. “Have you ever seen Seunghyun act like that?” Jung-jae asked hushedly, stunned. Byung-hun leaned forward slightly, brows furrowed. “Never.”
Seunghyun’s team crushed it.
Final score? A beatdown. Straight up.
And Jiyong? He was screaming louder than even some of the players’ parents.
“THAT’S RIGHT, CHOI SEUNGHYUN! SEND THEM BACK TO YONGIN!” He caught so many stares, but not a single one of them mattered. Because when Seunghyun made that final goal and turned to the crowd with a smirk, eyes squinting from the stadium lights, to lock his gaze right onto Jiyongs. Just for a second. Just long enough. And Jiyong swore he blacked out a little.
Once the game had fully concluded, the players cooled off and the crowd began to thin. Jiyong remained on the bleachers, but stood and stretched. His voice was hoarse from cheering, and his heart was racing from something much, much more dangerous.
Beside him, Jung-jae stood with his signature grin, sliding his phone into Jiyong’s hand. “Here,” he said. “For next time.” “You think there’ll be a next time?” Jiyong joked, but really couldn’t believe it. Lee Jung-Jae was practically a celebrity around this area, and to have his number was just mind blowing.
“Oh, there will be,” Jung-jae said, nudging Byung-hun, who remained quiet but nodded once, handing Jiyong his own handle like it was a secret passcode. They were cool. Really cool. Jiyong liked them, but there was only one person on his mind as he said goodbye, cutting through the back path behind the bleachers, and towards the parking lot where most people weren’t allowed.
Because he knew, he just knew, Seunghyun’s car would be parked away from the chaos.
And he was right.
There he was.
Leaning back on his sleek black car, towel draped lazily around his neck, damp hair pushed back, neck glistening with sweat and moonlight. One leg kicked out in front of the other. A new pair of headphones around his neck. And then he turned.
The way Seunghyun lit up when he saw him? God.
It was just like he didn’t even try. Like he didn’t even know how devastating his dimples were.
Jiyong swallowed hard, straightened his spine, and adjusted his walk. He pushed his shoulders back and swayed his hips just enough. He took his time, eating up every inch of the moment. “Was that enough sweat for you?” Seunghyun asked with a smug smirk, voice soft but confident.
Jiyong stopped just inches in front of him. Close enough to see the flecks of triumph in his eyes. Close enough to feel his breath, warm and thick with the aftermath of exertion.“More than enough.” Jiyong breathed, barely above a whisper. It was intimate. Electric. The air just about crackled between them. Deliciously tense.
Seunghyuns eyes dropped to his mouth. Just briefly, so quick it could have just been imagination, and yet Jiyongs whole body screamed, kiss me. But nothing happened. Not yet. But nothing should. It’s too early, too new. Sadly. Seunghyun leaned back first, clearing his throat. His voice dropped slightly as he began to talk again
“Glad you did. This could become a routine. You come see me every game, and I…” He opened the passenger door with a click .“Could give you a ride home every time.” Jiyong blinked. Then gaped. He actually had to look around to make sure this was real. “Oh.”
“‘Oh’ as in you’ll get in the car?” Seunghyun jokes. Jiyong stepped in like he was stepping into a dream.
And honestly? It was.
Seunghyuns car was insane.
High-end leather that hugged his body. Teal LED strips glowed faintly in an intricate design from every crevice. under the seats, in the dashboard, even the cupholders. It smelled like sandalwood, like Seunghyun’s skin, and faintly of mint gum.
The windows were tinted dark, hiding them from the world. And as Seunghyun climbed into the driver’s seat, he gave Jiyong a confident smirk. He knew he had a sick ride.”You like?” He asks, leaning in and tuning his voice up a bit. It made Jiyong laugh. Seunghyun then connects his phone.
Lauryn Hill filled the space. “Of course you love Lauryn Hill,” Jiyong muttered, half-laughing, head tilting to the side. “Why wouldn’t I?” Seunghyun responded, eyes looking straight as he leaves school premises. “You think I’m basic?” “No. I think you’re…” Jiyong trailed off. There were many things Jiyong could’ve said. Things he wanted to say. But maybe now wasn’t the time. So he left it at that and faced the window.
The drive was… comfortable. And not just by the luxury maintenance of the car.
It was like they’d done this a hundred times.
Jiyong leaned into the headrest. His body finally relaxing after a day of playing the waiting game. The thump of the music, the hum of the engine, and the faint glances Seunghyun kept stealing when he thought Jiyong wasn’t looking made the ride all more weirdly enjoyable.
It was warm inside the car. A type of warmth that didn’t just come from the heater.
It was presence.
It was safety.
And maybe a little bit of the electric tension that made Jiyong’s stomach flip every time the car turned. Or moved at all for the matter. Which was the whole time.
Before he knew it, they were parked about a block away from Jiyongs house.
Smart.
”I overheard that your dad’s been pretty strict with you. Didn’t wanna get you in trouble.” He smiles sheepishly, feeling embarrassed for being oddly caring and observant. Not many would give him that trait.
The music had shifted to another song, but it was still Lauryn. Still soul.
Neither of them moved.
Jiyong didn’t want to leave. At all.
But it was his stop. “Thanks,” he said, slowly unbuckling. “Anytime,” Seunghyun murmured, voice low and steady. Jiyong opened the door. The air outside was much colder. He stood half-out of the car, holding onto the door like a lifeline. “Hey, Seunghyun?” he asked, just to stall. And maybe to hear his voice one more time. “Yeah?” “What’s your skincare routine?”
It was dumb. He knew it was dumb. But it made Seunghyun laugh, deep and breathy. And just before Jiyong could close the door— “I like skin,” Seunghyun said casually, not looking at him. Jiyong stood there, a slight bit caught off guard.
Was it a flirt? A cryptic inside joke? A metaphor for ‘I like yours’?
His mouth opened. Then shut. Then he opened it again.
He turned around slowly and walked toward, still stunned, one hand trailing along his cheek. He doesn’t feel the eyes of someone looking at him. Or, should he say his lower back..area.
“There you are, Ji’. When you said you’d be hanging out with Daesung, I didn’t think it would be until 8.” He hears his mom say when he gets through the door, and Jiyong remembers to pull his shorts down quickly before his father lays eyes on him. “Did you have fun?” She then asks, and Jiyong nods a little too eagerly. Neither seem to pick up on it though. “You missed dinner.” His dad then tells him, and it’s then that Jiyong remembers he hasn’t eaten in a couple of hours.
“Sorry..” Jiyong utters meekly, not sure if it’s even appropriate to apologize. He’s still adjusting to the ‘not-cursing-your-dad-out-any-time-he-says-something-to-you’ change. He stares at the floor. “So, are you going to eat, aegiya?” His mom urges. “Uh, Yeah,” Jiyong clears his throat. Stupid voice crack. “Yeah.” He treats more firmly, going to take a seat at the table. Dami comes down the stairs, attention still locked onto her phone until she finally lifts her eyes. “Ji, you’re finally back!” She grins. Jiyong scoffs as a plate of jjimdak is placed in front of him, along with a few side dishes. “I can’t believe I was actually missed.” He says, and Dami goes to sit next to him and slides one of his bowls of geotjori her way. “The house is just a little too quiet, that’s all.” She sniffs, trying to play off her clear yearn for her brother. “Geez, I was gone for an extra four hours.” Jiyong mumbles, yes hides his smile in his food. It’s nice to know that he was missed, that’s his family notices when he’s gone.
“So, what did you and Daesung do?” The simple question from his mother makes him break out in a cold sweat, and Jiyong usually would prepare a lie up for the question but he was so submerged in the present, and Seunghyuns sexy stature, and how fucking Lee Jung-Jae and Byung-hun were right next to him, that he forgot!
”What I, uh..wha-What were we doing? We uh—“ “We, We, We,” Dami teases, and Jiyong sends a deathly glare her way before his directing his focus back to his parents. “We were just, y’know, chilling.” He shrugs, and his father raises a brow. “Chilling how?” “Just…We stopped at a store, got some snacks, and ate them in Dae’s car.”’ He explained. It’s not clear or not if his story is believed, but if they don’t, they don’t say much else. Jiyong smiles, finishes his plate, mumbles “Robber..” to Dami, who smirks into his bowl of geotjori, places it into the sink and bows to his parents before heading upstairs.
Once in his room, Jiyong flopped onto his bed, quickly feeling all the tension in his shoulders drain. Replaying everything that happened at the soccer game comes naturally, especially when he couldn’t fully comprehend everything he was feeling until alone and away from any prying eyes. So, he’s come to the conclusion that his interest in Seunghyun is not strictly platonic. Not in the slightest. And also, he needs that. Jiyong groans at all the flustering ideas flying around his head, covering his face.
And then a song started playing softly from Seunghyuns headphones on his nightstand. It was slower, more…intimate, than the other songs Seunghyun has played for him.
‘I'm brighter than before
Brighter than ever before
I'm an orange moon and I shine so bright
′Cause I reflect the light of my sun
I praise the day, he turned my way
And smiled at me
He gets to smile and I get to be orange
That I love to be’
There were just too many feelings swirling around, and it literally was making feeling like Jiyong was going to explode. He needs someone to tell all of this to.
He dials CL.
Ring. Ring. Rin—
“Took you long enough,” Chaelin answered smoothly. “I’m combusting,” Jiyong groaned into the speaker, getting more comfortable in his bed. This was going to be a talk for sure. “Oh?” she said, sounding too pleased. “Is this about Mr. Unintentional heartbreaker himself?” “Bitch—Chaerin—I think I’m broken,” Jiyong hissed. “I don’t even like athletes like that. I’m more of a ‘skinny tatted boys with unresolved trauma’ type.”
“So Soo-hyuk.” “DO NOT, repeat that name to me again. I’m serious.”
“Okay, you have unresolved trauma.”“Exactly! We match energy!” He turned on his back and stared up at the ceiling like it held answers. His hair clung to his temples from sweat. “And Seunghyun is just… ugh. He’s hot in a literal mythical way. Like, if he stood at my window at night I’d think it was an angel here to smite me.”
Chaerin cackled. “ And yet… ” she said knowingly. “And YET,” Jiyong groaned. He spilled everything . The ride. The music. The leather seats. And of course the dimples. His literal life-flashing-before-his-eyes moment when Seunghyun stood so close he could see every individual lash. The line that still haunted his soul like a sexy ghost. “‘I like skin’?” CL repeated slowly.
“RIGHT?!” he screeched. “Literally who fucking says that? What does it even mean?? Is it poetry? Is it a kink ? Was he being literal?!” “No, because like…” Chaelin paused. “He’s mysterious as hell, and that only makes it worse.”
“I swear, if he doesn’t kiss me by the end of the month, I’m gonna die and haunt his locker.” “Jiyong.”
“Yes, haunt it. Ima whisper ‘I like skin’ every time he tries to open it.” They both dissolved into another fit of laughter, high pitched and uncontrollable, like they were back in middle school and Jiyong had just kissed a boy behind the gym again. Eventually, it had got quieter. Chaerin yawned. Jiyong stretched.
“He’s gonna break me,” he mumbled. “You’ve been broken,” she replied sweetly. “Yeah but I would at least rather it be my back..” Jiyong grumbles, and the two both laugh before Chaerin says her goodnights. In the most Chaerin way possible.
”Beauty queens need their beauty sleep. Wouldn’t wanna end up like you!—night, GD.”
Jiyong shakes his head at the nickname. “Night, CL. And you must not be getting enough ‘beauty sleep’ because trust me I’ve seen those eye bags.” She hangs up in his face, erupting him into a fit of laughter that dies down after a while. Eventually he decided to call it a night himself, laying down but turning to face his window. He wonders if Seunghyuns made it home yet, and if he’s maybe doing the same as Jiyong right now.
Maybe he also spent extra time this morning to choose a shirt, not for himself, but to see if Jiyong would notice. Maybe he scrolled through his playlist late at night, hovering over songs, wondering which one fit… whatever this was between them, to incorporate it into the next day when Jiyong would be wearing his headphones.
The thought made Jiyongs chest constrict in a way that wasn’t unpleasant. It was strange, feeling this kind of curiosity for someone elses small habits. Even stranger that he wanted to notice them all, to know the reasons behind them. He shut his eyes, the faint hum of the city seeping into the room, and let the wondering follow him into sleep.
Notes:
Fun fact: every fit everyone wears is based on an outfit they’ve actually worn. Not a big deal, but just a lil sum fun.
Chapter 5: Another side not yet seen
Notes:
SONG LIST:
The song Seunghyun wrote was ‘GIRLFRIEND’ by bigbang
The song that plays not too long after is ‘Is it a crime?’ By Sade.
Chapter Text
Zzzzzzzzz
”ohhh, who’s Jiyong?”
Seughyun jolts forward out of his sweep, breaking his neck to look at his sister. Hye-yoons at the edge of his bed, on his phone, and is open to Jiyongs Instagram page. “What the fuck!?” He screeches, lunging for his phone only for Hye-yoon to retract far enough for him to not reach it. He growls and throws the covers off of him. “Why are you even in my room anyways!? And how did you get in my phone!?” He shrieks, demanding answers.
He looks vastly different from the Choi Seunghyun most know of, his hair is disheveled and not in a hot way, he’s wearing a gray T-shirt and striped pajama pants, plus, he does not wake up in the morning with a happy go lucky attitude. No—you cannot talk to him until he’s been conscious for at least forty minutes. Hye-yoon pushes her lips together. “Mmmm, that’s not important. What’s important are these…” she covers her mouth to restrain a laugh.
”Hyung are these songs you’ve written?” She cannot contain the grin that stretches across her entire lower face, and Seunghyuns cheeks flush. “No!—“ “‘Today again, I thank the heavens for crafting you so beautifully’” “Stop that!” He exclaims. He really doesn’t want to get physical with his sister, but he will. “‘For allowing me to see you, this masterpiece Uh, I am savoring you now’ wow, Hyung. Is this about Jiyon-“ Seunghyun jumps on top of her, making them both tumble onto his bedroom floor. He snatches his phone from her grasp before standing up and pointing to the door.
“Out.”
Hye-yoon becomes serious. “Seunghyun. I know you write a lot, but I have never seen you write anything about somebody. I don’t care if it’s a guy. You know that, right?” Seunghyun inhales sharply, making an effort to not make eye contact with her. “I won’t tell mom and dad if you be real with me.” She adds in, knowing it’ll force Seunghyun to spare a little bit of information. Her brother tenses
“I met him a few days ago. He’s cool. We both like music. I invited him to my soccer game last night and gave him a ride home. I..” he pauses. “I like him. I guess.” He adds at the end, more shy. It’s a rare occurrence for Hye-yoon; all of it. Her brothers been parading around with some boy for the past few days and she didn’t have a clue? Man does Seunghyun know how to keep a secret. “Good. It’s about time.” She finally says, if not a bit cautious. She knows it’s hard to get anything personal out of Seunghyun, so she’s kind of walking on egg shells at the moment.
Seunghyun presses his lips into a thin line, nods, and rolls on the balls of his feet. It’s awkward. “Yep.” He glances at his clock. “Aish, I still need to get dressed!” He leaps into his closest to find something to wear, aswell as hide the color in his face. “Play something before you leave.” Hye-snorts before walking over to his collection. “Just use your headphones…” she trails off. If she remembers properly she hasn’t even seen Seunghyun wear his headphones since maybe Tuesday, which is weird. Their mom always gets on him about how having them around his neck constantly isn’t ’proper etiquette’ so for him to not have them is weird. Even weirder now that she scans around his room and doesn’t find them by his nighstand. She thinks.
”Ohhh…” She then smirks to herself, placing a vinyl on his turntable and walking out quietly. Well. Almost quietly. “Don’t think I don’t see you thinking extra hard on what to wear~” teases, Seunghyun pokes his head out of his closet to yell out “Go eat a di—“ and then his mom walks by. They both pause. She cocks he head slightly “Eat a what, Tabi?” She asks sweetly as she walks under and takes Seunghyuns laundry. He stammers. “It’s uh..it’s new slang, eomma. You wouldn’t get it-“ he says. “Oh okay. Whatever you say.” She utters as she leaves his room, her tone having a slight innuendo that she does understand perfectly. The song on the record player starts to make sound. Seunghyun huffs in annoyance over the whole ordeal until he remembers he totally stole Hye-yoons headphones.
‘it a crime?
Is it a crime
That I still want you?
And I want you to want me too
My love is wider, wider than Victoria Lake
My love is taller, taller than the Empire State
It dives, it jumps, and it ripples like the deepest ocean
I can't give you more than that
Surely, you want me back’
Seunghyun was posted at his usual spot in the building; which was a small corner near a vending machine that he had claimed probably around his sophomore year.
He had one leg kicked back on the wall, a Nintendo Switch lazily balanced in his hands, with Mario Kart on the screen. His brows furrowed slightly in focus, but not enough to make him look any less good. A navy zipup fell off one shoulder, revealing a white tank top underneath. His neck was still damp from his morning workout drills him and his team had done for their upcoming game, and it caused his hair to be tousled. His lip tucked between his teeth as he drifted around a corner in-game.
Seungri was talking to Taeyang nearby, laughing loud and animated. But Seunghyun? He was somewhere else entirely.
Because the second Jiyong stepped into the building.
He looked up, and he froze. But you really cannot blame him. Because those legs.
The smooth, toned, porcelain legs, were on full display from the shorts he was wearing. His socks made them pop. The curve of his waist, the gentle rise of his chest in that hoodie—and most importantly the hoodie. The hoodie that was draped like a secret. A secret that Seunghyun was dying to unravel and see for himself.
He couldn’t help it. His eyes lingered. Traveled up. Down again. But he wasn’t checking Jiyong out. He was studying art. Because that’s what Jiyong was. Okay, wait. That was supposed to be a compliment and it came out a little like objectification (side eye to Seungri).
“I’m a goner…” He blinked once, twice, and caught Jiyong’s gaze for just a second, and then boom.
Connection.
Jiyong immediately looked away, cheeks heating faster than humanely possible. He knew he was being watched. He felt it. His legs stumbled a little, nearly tripping over nothing.
And of course, Jennie saw it.
As he walked to his locker, her and her girls, Jisoo, Lisa, and Rosé stood by their lockers like a well-dressed firing squad. Their eyes narrow, arms cross, and lips pursed. “Is that Jiyong?” Lisa asked, voice soaked in disbelief. Jennie scoffs “Obvi, ” Jennie muttered. “He’s like… not even his type.” Rosé comments.
“Exactly,” Jennie snapped. “That spot should’ve been mine. Or at least not his .”Their glares could’ve melted concrete, and they all nod in agreement. But then Jisoo deflates. “Wait…are you talking about Seunghyun or Jiyong?” They all send daggers her way. “Obviously Seunghyun! Jennie doesn’t like Jiyong at all.” There’s a pause, as if they are all waiting for Jennie to confirm. “Uh, yeah.” She answers hollowly.
Jisoo clears her throat, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Right..” and with that she drifts off. The rest all continue to walk away together, seeming a lot like a group of best friends and not ‘searching for their own identity’ as Lisa had put it the other day. But Jiyong, caught in the orbit of a certain boy with dimples and game, had no idea he was being plotted on. And not just by them, either…
He finally made it to his locker, hands fumbling with the combo. Seunghyun sauntered over like he had all the time in the world, Switch off, confidence on. When he leaned against the locker next to Jiyong’s, all cool and dimpled and just about six-feet-of-dangerous, Jiyong could barely breathe.
“Morning,” Seunghyun said casually, one hand in his pocket, the other twisting a ring on his finger. “M-morning,” Jiyong squeaked, but quickly played it off. Seunghyun grinned. he loved that sound. “You wore ‘em. Again.” He nodded toward the headphones. “Didn’t know you’d actually keep them.”
“You said they’d help me think of you,” Jiyong mumbled, biting his cheek. “Now I can’t stop thinking of you.” And he mentally curses at himself for saying that. It was too much. Or maybe the right amount.
Seunghyun paused. “Is that so?” He stepped a little closer. Not enough to crowd, but enough to crowd Jiyong’s brain . “That outfit’s dangerous,” Seunghyun said, eyes traveling down then back up with absolutely no shame. “Is it for me?” Jiyong’s body short-circuited. Is this guy for real!? Jiyong might be the only person in Seoul who has yet to see the quiet, nonchalant, and blunt vocabulary Choi Seunghyun. Cause all he’s getting is this hot asshole who he wants to punch and kiss and maybe go the whole extra mile too all at the same time!
“No,” he said. Then, “Maybe.” Then, “I—why would I—” “I like skin,” Seunghyun added casually, like he was talking about the weather. Jiyong visibly jolted.
He knows.
He knows that Jiyong repeated the statement one hundred times in the mirror, let it haunt the back of his mind as he took a shower, and determine his entire outfit for the day. With how much Jiyong wanted to please Seunghyuns comment, he would have showed up to school fucking naked.
“Do you just say that?? To everyone?? ”
“Nah,” Seunghyun said, inching even closer, voice low and silken. “Just to people who look good in tight shirts and bite their lips when they see me.” Jiyong slapped his locker shut and leaned on it, full body steaming like a teapot as he turned his head and avoided eye contact like it was radioactive. His voice came out breathy and cracked as he said “I think I hate you.” “Nah,” Seunghyun smirked, backing off just enough. “You don’t.” The first bell rang, and Jiyong didn’t move. Just turned around to press his forehead to the cold locker and breathed . “I hate how you can be so sure and be right.”
Across the hall, Seunghyun winked once before disappearing into the crowd, casually blowing up Jiyong’s entire nervous system.
“Are you okay, Jiyong? Looking a little red there.” Jiyong turns to see Lee Jung Jae staring back with an amused expression, with Lee Byung hun right next to him. It takes a moment for Jiyong to register what he said. “Oh!—me? Yeah,” he reassures, glancing at the down the hall where Seunghyun was moments ago. “Just peachy..” “You’re seeming more like ‘tomato’ but whatever works for you.” Byung hun smirks while Jung Jae laughs wholly. Jiyong snorts. Did Lee Byung hun just make a joke? There really is a first time for everything. “Well I’m guessing you guys know I just told a fat lie, so to save the interrogation I’m just gonna head to class. ‘Kay?” He says coolly, ready to make a dash for it. Byung hun shakes his head. “That’s probably for the best.” And they both turn the opposite direction from Jiyong. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and hopes the pair don’t remember this encounter the next time he goes to one of Seunghyuns games.
Daesung wasn’t nosy by nature.
He was, however, observant. And hyper-aware of shifts in energy, little ticks in body language, whispers passed under breath when people thought no one was listening. And right now?
He was listening.
He was with Taeyang, who had left to tell Bom something important. half-hidden behind the open door, he saw Jennie standing just a few feet down the hallway with Soo-hyuk. He didn’t need a vast vocabulary to know the words “Jiyong,” “Seunghyun,” and “pathetic” were flying out of their mouths with serious venom . “He’s clearly just playing with him,” Jennie said with a sneer. “Or bored.”
“Jiyong’s just loud and bendy. That’s it,” Soo-hyuk added. “Trust me, I know.” Jennie frowns at that, but recovers scarily quick. “So you’re saying you’re over him?” She asks, seeming more interested than previously. “Please. Who could be over Jiyong.” He sighs, and Jennie rolls her eyes. “Okay, so just tell me what the deal is. You wanna break up whatever they have going on, or what?” Daesungs eyes widen.
“We don’t have to do anything. He’ll get over it soon,” Soo-hyuk says, fixing his sleeves. “Boys like Seunghyun don’t date projects. They collect them.” Daesung’s eyes narrowed. Noted, he thought grimly
The cafeteria buzzed with its usual chaos with trays clattering, chairs scraping, and a symphony of casual conversations. The jocks were at their table, arguing over recent sports controversies and other topics alike. Most kids at the slacker table were asleep, heads tucked in their arms, and others scrolled aimlessly on their phones. The theater kids were practically conveying a play right there, going over lines and singing overzealously. Then there were friend group tables like Wooyoung, San, Bangchan, and the rest of their friends at a table. Next to them were Jimin, Jungkook, Suga, J-hope, and a few others. You couldn’t miss Jennie and her crew either.
Jiyong and his friends sat in the middle, as if it all relied on them. The easy camaraderie was unmistakable, everyone talking like this little pack they have was created years ago. Jiyong, his perpetually curious eyes alight, was deep in a debate with Daesung about a new song. Taeyang leaned forward, a thoughtful smile on his face, occasionally interjecting with an obnoxious yet oddly insightful comment. Across from them, CL and Bom were sharing a joke, their laughter ringing out, bright and clear.
And there was Seunghyun, sitting relaxed, his posture a picture of effortless cool. The hood of his navy hoodie was halfway up, and his soft dimples appeared with every casual smile. He was focused on Jiyong, feeling a warm pulse in his heart at how passionate he looked while talking. He was a soft beauty in the boisterous stream of their friends’ chatter.
He had interjected the conversation, playfully insisting on an answer to a question when a voice cut through the noise.
"Mind if I sit here?"
The playful mood at the table instantly shifted. Jiyong head snapped up, his smile faltering as he saw who it was. Soo hyuk. He was standing at the end of the table, a tray in his hand, his eyes lazily scanning for a seat. A perfectly free seat right next to Jiyong.
“Oh. Uh,” Jiyong stammered, his mind scrambling for an excuse. But before he could snatch CLs handbag and place it next to him, a different voice, low and decisive, beat him to it.
“Sorry,” Seunghyn said, his voice cutting across the table like a blade. “Table’s full.” His tone left no room for discussion. The buzzing conversation at the table died down to a stunned silence. Everyone blinked, looking from Seunghyun to the clearly empty chair. Soo Hyuk’s smirk was slow and challenging. “Really? It doesn’t seem like it.” he replied, one brow lifting in disbelief. Jiyong would’ve genuinely believed he looked hurt if he didn’t know what kind of person he was.
Seunghyuns jaw ticked in a way that showcased his impatience, and his smile tightened just a fraction. “Well, I said it is,” he replied, the finality in his tone clear. “So go fuck off.”
The words, so stark and out of place, made the entire table fall silent. Seunghyun wasn’t firm and demanding. He wasn’t typically rude. But in that moment, he was all of the above. A brick wall with dimples. Soo Hyuk stared at him. Cool. Calculating. But something in Seunghyuns expression told him this was a fight he wouldn’t win. The smirk on his face never faltered though, and he just shrugged. “Noted.” He turned and walked away, eyes on Jiyong and the tray in his hand suddenly seeming heavier.
Jiyong stared, absolutely reeling, his mind unable to process the abrupt exchange.
“Did you just—”
“What was that?”
“Who are you?” CL asked, the question laced with a laugh of disbelief.
Seunghyun simply sat back down, grabbing his fork with a serene, unaffected air. The smile was back in full force, as if nothing had happened. “So anyway,” he said casually, flicking his fork towards Jiyong. “You still haven’t told me your favorite Lauryn Hill song.”
The whiplash was insane. Jiyong’s brain was still stuck on "go fuck off," while Seunghyun was already back in rom com mode, looking like a saint with a halo made of hoodie cotton and perfectly white teeth. CL rolled her eyes, snorting into her drink.
“You are such a mess,” she whispered at Jiyong.
And he was. Completely and honestly. Because God help him, that whole possessive little outburst? It was hot. Absurdly hot. Possessive Seunghyun was a new flavor, and Jiyong wasn’t prepared for how much he liked it. The rest of lunch was a blur of laughter and subtle flirting. But while everyone focused on the table talk, Seunghyun’s eyes kept drifting. To Jiyong’s lips when he sipped his juice. To the subtle slope of his neck. To his shirt bunched up just enough to show the shape of his waist. His dimples stayed present, but now his gaze carried weight. Heavy. Possessive. Intentional.
And Jiyong, despite his blushing and messiness, wasn’t oblivious. No one at that table realized it yet, but something had shifted. This wasn’t just flirtation anymore. This was claiming. Daesung glances at the two briefly.
The hallway was buzzing with after-lunch sleepiness and whispers that traveled faster than the school’s Wi-Fi. Locker doors clanged shut, sneakers squeaked across the polished floor, and the faint smell of cafeteria meals still clung to the air. Jiyong moved through it all in his own little world, headphones snug over his ears, the voice of Sanwoollims Kim Chang-wan spilling soft truths into his head.
His steps had a lazy rhythm, a slight sway that wasn’t entirely intentional. Like he was floating, not walking. Like gravity was doing him a personal favor today.
But inside? Inside, it was chaos.
He was still replaying that moment from lunch again, and again, and again, as if his brain was a scratched CD stuck on the best part of a song. That voice. That look. The way Seunghyuns words had cut through the noise around them with surgical precision.
“Go fuck off.”
Gosh, Seunghyun had said it so clean. So decisive. So hot. Not even in a “trying to be hot” way, but in that effortless, I-don’t-even-have-to-think-about-it way.
It wasn’t even directed at Jiyong. Well, technically it had been. But it might as well hadn’t been, because the delivery had landed somewhere deep in his chest anyways and was now making a home there.
His cheeks were heating up again, the warmth crawling to his ears. He could practically feel the pink blooming under his skin. The strap of his backpack sat tight against his shoulder, and without thinking, his fingers hooked around it, holding it like it was the only thing tethering him to earth.
He tried to focus on the music, on the way Chang-wan’s voice bent and stretched around each lyric, but his mind kept wandering back. Did Seunghyun even know how he sounded? Did he even care? Probably not. Which somehow made it worse. Or better. Or both.
Jiyong wondered if Seunghyun went home and just… Existed like that. All sharp edges wrapped in that quiet, magnetic pull. The kind of person who could make you rethink your entire outfit with one glance, or turn your day around with three words. The kind of person who controlled a room without trying. The kind of person you think you know, but actually don’t even know a fragment. And maybe, most likely Jiyong was overthinking it—he was known for doing that—but in this case? He didn’t care. Maybe Jiyongs type of person, whatever that is, compliments his perfectly. It seems like it, at least.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he walked, letting his shoulder brush the cool cinderblock wall, the physical contact grounding him for half a second before his brain slipped back into the replay reel.
“Go fuck off.”
Yeah, okay. Maybe it was weird to be blushing over that. But Jiyong wasn’t about to psychoanalyze himself right now. He’s known he’s a little on the more demented side for a few years now.
Not when it felt this good.
Suddenly Jiyong heard his name. “Yo, Kwon!”
He blinked and looked up.
Yim Siwan, varsity preppy king, poster child for “class president energy” with his polos and better-than-thou-yet-I’m-going-to-act-like-I-don’t-think-that-to-preserve-your-feelings attitude, stood in front of him. Hair perfectly styled. Teeth nearly blinding. He even smelled expensive.
Jiyong nearly looked behind him, unsure the guy was even talking to him. “Me?” he asked, slowing to a stop, tugging his headphones down to his neck. “Yeah,” Siwan nodded, cool but clearly trying hard to play it off like it wasn’t weird. “I’m throwing a party tomorrow night. Back-to-school thing. You should come.” Jiyong squinted at him. “You serious?”
Siwan actually laughed a little. “You’ve got the wrong idea, man. I never thought you were, like, a problem . Just chaotic. But now… You’re cool.” In other words, Now that he’s talking to Seunghyun, he’s suddenly among the rest of the students attending their school that’s at the top of the toxic hierarchy. Everyone suddenly saw him differently. He wasn’t just “that kid with eyeliner and a bad attitude” anymore.
He was Jiyong, the guy Seunghyun was clearly into. And that came with… benefits. “It starts at nine,” Siwan continued, pulling out a crisp little square flyer and handing it over. “Tell your boy to come too.” ‘Your boy’. The way Siwan said it made Jiyong’s ears burn. He took the flyer like it was a diamond invitation. He didn’t care that he was clearly more of a leeway to get Seunghyun at the party than being invited just on his behalf of being a cool person, this was a first for him.
“Cool,” Jiyong said. “I’ll think about it.”
But in his head? He was already planning the whole night.
Chapter Text
The next time Jiyong saw Seunghyun, it was like the world muted itself. They were tucked in the far back corner of the school library, hidden by dusty shelves and oversized encyclopedias no one had touched since 1994. It was study hall, and lots of other seniors populated the room, so it wasn’t exactly romantic, but it was quiet. Which, honestly, was rare when it came to them. Jiyong leaned against the wooden frame of the bookcase, one knee slightly bent, chewing lightly on the corner of his lip as Seunghyun scrolled through something on his phone.
“So…” Jiyong started, voice light and casual. Seunghyun looked up immediately, already looking at him intently. That soft focus kind of stare, like his attention had just been yanked from the stratosphere and dropped squarely on Jiyong’s face, sent the man into a frenzy. “There’s a party tonight. At Siwan’s.” Seunghyun raised a single, thick brow, not saying anything. “He, uh… Invited me. Kind of officially,” Jiyong grinned, trying to seem unfazed. He kept his tone even and orthodox. “Said I should come. We should come.”
Seunghyun’s jaw ticked faintly. He didn’t speak right away. Instead, he slipped his phone into his back pocket and leaned back against the bookshelf, crossing his arms. His expression wasn’t annoyed, but it for sure wasn’t thrilled either. “Siwan’s parties are a mess,” he said finally. “Theres drunk girls clawing at everyone, and music so loud it makes your head split. And not in the good way. I don’t really… Do crowded shit like that.” Jiyong blinked. It was not what he was expecting. “Oh.” It came out flatter than he meant. Something in his chest deflated. Siwan thought Jiyong could sweet-talk Seunghyun into showing up and being the party’s living, breathing attraction. Which, yeah, he could. And now? He would. Because Siwan may never invite Jiyong to another party again.
He straightened up, making the other do the same. Then, Jiyong moved closer into Seunghyuns space. There wasn’t a single soul watching them, just the faint hum of the air vent, the smell of aged paper, and students flipping pages and jotting down notes. He stood toe-to-toe with the taller boy, head tilted, lashes low.“Pleeease?” Jiyong whispered, voice coy. He pouted his lips and looked up with his biggest, most unholy puppy dog eyes he could muster. Seunghyun visibly froze. His hands stayed locked on his forearms at first, jaw clenched like he was doing advanced calculus in his head just to keep himself still. So Jiyong stepped closer and slowly guided Seunghyuns arms down and placing both of his large hands firmly on his hips. He felt a shock of electricity race down his spine despite directing the hand placement himself. They stayed there, warm and dangerous, palms spreading slightly. This was bold.
Jiyong leaned forward, up on his tiptoes, their lips now mere inches apart. “We’ll have so much fun,” he baby-talked, pouting even more now. Seunghyuns eyes dilated Completely. His throat moved as he swallowed something back. Maybe common sense. Maybe a groan. Maybe a rejection to his motive. God, his self-control was unreal. He didn’t move. Didn’t touch. Barely breathed. So Jiyong wrapped his arms around Seunghyun neck, pulling him closer and tilting his own face to press his cheek against the taller boy’s shoulder. His lips were close enough to graze collarbone.“Please, Hyung?” And that was it. crack. Seunghyun sighed, Long and heavy. He caved in. “I’ll pick you up at nine,” he murmured, low and husky in Jiyong’s ear. “On the dot.” Jiyong squealed, retracting slightly and nearly bouncing in place. “YES.” His arms squeezed around Seunghyuns neck one more time before he backed up, face lit like the Fourth of July. He didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. He couldn’t wait for tonight. Seunghyun was already having his regrets.
Fast forward to that evening, where Jiyong stares into his closet as if it was the thunderdome.
Clothes hung on ivory hangers, each piece already styled in his mind. He had a lot of options, as he always did. Leather? Maybe. Lace? Tempting. Denim? Too casual. Crop top? Seunghyun did say “I like skin…”
That line hadn’t left his head since it left the alarmingly attractive man’s mouth.
He dragged his hand down his face and groaned into the closet. This wasn’t just any party. It was a back to school blowout, the first one of senior year, with most students attending, and he wasn’t just showing up; He was showing up with Choi Seunghyun, the guy who rarely went anywhere because none of them were on his level. The guy everyone lowkey worships. The guy whose hands had been on his hips this morning. “Bitch,” he whispered to himself, “You better bring it.” Finally, he landed on an outfit.
The top was a mischievously cropped white tank top that shows off the midriff. Layered over it is a loose, oversized button down shirt in white with light blue block lettering spelling “Übermensch” across the chest (He has no idea what it means). He decides on wearing the shirt open for a casual vibe. Or to show skin Seunghyun oh so vocalized he appreciates. Wide-leg, high-waisted, white pants that add a relaxed silhouette, were what he decided on for bottoms. They flowed down to his crisp, white Air Jordan 1s. The chrome metallic swoosh of the Nike logo pops out from the rest of the outfit. Then he placed a necklace layered with a star pendant around his neck and a bracelet.
His signature eyeliner was smudged with a carelessness that still somehow looked flawless. His perfume was addictive yet subtle, screaming ‘not trying too hard’. Little do they know. He stared at himself in the mirror and grinned. “You’re gonna ruin lives tonight.”
Just as Jiyong pulls out his phone to start taking pictures, Dami walks in. “Ya, babo-ya, did you take my styling gel?” She asks before seeing the display in front of her. Jiyong curses under his breath. Dami is always catching him doing something! If only he could get his lock back (you don’t wanna know why his dad took it). “Uh, yeah, I did. Now shoo please.” He flicks his hand towards her and glances at the time. 8:53.
”Uh uhn. Why are you dressed?” Dami quizzes, scrunching up her nose at the waft of perfume that filled her lungs that she just knows Jiyong thinks is subtle. He groans. “You know why I’m dressed, do we have to do this tonight? I’m sneaking out and going to a party with my friend.” She blinks like an owl. “Friend? Which friend? If it was a friend you would have just said their name.” “Fine, it’s CL.” “Oh, okay! I’ll walk out with you and say hi!” Jiyong freezes. “No, you can’t!—“ “So you’re not going out with CL. Ji’, I’m not an idiot.” She assures with an almost sympathetic voice. “Ugh, I wish you could just mind your business. I’ll be back by 3.” 8:55.
”Ji, is this party really worth it? You’ve been doing pretty well.” Dami then says, getting a little more serious. Jiyong side eyes her and puts stud earrings on. “Yes. Dami, you don’t understand, but this week..things have changed.” “You’ve been giving me some bullshit since you went back to school. Just like…secretive stuff. Whatever is going on Ji you can tell me.” Jiyong sighs. “It’s really nothing, Dami.” 8:57. His phone dings.
‘Outside’
Jiyong stammers. “What the—“ he snatches his white hat that’s meant to tie the whole outfit together quickly and looks at his phone again to check the time. “He said 9:00!” He rushes to his window and gets a leg out before he hears “He?” And just closes it behind him once he’s finally outside. Skidding down the roof tiles and jumping down onto a garbage bin, he sees Seunghyuns sleek, black car. He’ll worry about Dami’s dozens of questions when he gets back: it’s party time.
Seunghyun wasn’t overthinking it.
Well, not outwardly.
He was dressed in loose black jeans, a white ribbed tank under a grey zip-up with his chain peeking out. His hair was messy but perfect, styled just enough to look “undone.” He wore his beat up Jordans, because there’s a half a chance someone’ll throw up on his feet, and the same watch he always wore. It was something vintage and way too expensive.
So yeah, he looked hot. Effortlessly hot. It was kinda his thing. But the only thing he actually cared about?
Jiyong.
Seunghyun clenched the steering wheel, waiting outside of Jiyong’s house, parked right in front under a streetlight.
And then—
The front door stayed the same. But from the side of the house he saw an absolute angel emerge.
And Seunghyun’s lips parted. He looked…unreal.
White. Retro. That walk. Most of his hair was covered by a hat, but it was still messy in that ‘I just rolled out of bed, but my bed is Paris Fashion Week’ kind of way.
You can’t blame Jiyong for showing out though, because like everyone loved to say, tonight wasn’t just another high school party. It was a Yim Siwan party, infamous for its wild themes, crazy guest list full of only the most popular, and a constant stream of “accidentally viral” moments on social media. And this time… he was invited.
And not just invited. Invited with Choi. Fucking. Seunghyun. This is the type of stuff that’ll make you peak and reminisce about till you develop dementia. And still not forget.
Jiyong caught Seunghyuns eye and gave him a small wave before sliding into the passenger seat.
“Hey.”
Seunghyun couldn’t stop looking. Even when his eyes watered from the perfume that got in his vision.
“You tryna kill me?”
Jiyong smirked and tucked a leg underneath him. He thinks Seunghyuns talking about his outfit.
“Not yet. Thought I’d start slow.”
Seunghyun shook his head and started driving, Wu-tang playing in the background. The tension was warm. Comfortable. Crackling.
“You look… Good,” Seunghyun added, eyes on the road. Jiyong raised an eyebrow. “Just good?”
“Okay. Dangerous.”
Jiyong preened like a pampered cat. “Much better.”
‘Girl you've got to know that you'll always be my only one
The only one, the only one, the only one
'Cause baby you're the one
Tonight I'm taking off so I can make time
For the one, 'cause you're the one, the only one
Baby you're the one’
”So..Why don’t you like going to parties and stuff?” Jiyong asks, trying to just mention it casually, when really he’s been itching to ask. Seunghyun probably gets invited to a dozen events a week, and you’re telling him he’d just rather not go? With a jaw as sharp as that and dimples that send Jiyong into cardiac arrest, he was sure he’d practically never be at home. What he learned earlier in the library was a shocker. Seunghyun shrugs softly as he takes a turn.
“Most invite me just to get others to come, not because they like me as a person. It’s just…Iffy, to me, if that makes sense.” Jiyong nods, understanding but not relating, which is probably a problem being that that’s what’s happening right now. Jiyong was not invited because he’s funny, or nice to be around, but because it would ensure Seunghyuns appearance there. Jiyong hadn’t cared, but now may be second guessing a bit. He huffs with a smile. “So your pretty big on that im guessing? Because I’m not gonna lie but a few people told me you were just about impossible to get close to.” “It sounds about right. I’m just a private person. Maybe a little too private.” He mutters the last part.
”I don’t think so,” Jiyong blurts out, not exactly thinking. They stop at a red light and Seunghyun takes this moment to look at him. He almost looks both surprised and relieved, as if he’d been waiting for someone to disagree with the label. “You aren’t hard to get close to, people just encounter you wrong—they try too hard.” He sits up a little straighter the passenger seat. “I think you look for authenticity a lot in people, which is,” Jiyong scoffs. “hard to find nowadays.” He finally locks eyes with Seunghyun and sees his yes are dilated and scanning Jiyongs entire face. “How do you know me better than my own family in a week?” He mumbled. It was right on the spot. Too accurate.
The urge to kiss Jiyongs soft and glossy lips is stronger than ever, and maybe he’ll give in. The other boy feels his cheeks warm up, and bites his lip. He barely bears what Seunghyun said, already in his own head. Maybe he said too much? Maybe it was a turn off to be deep diving in someone’s inner inferiority minutes away from going to a party.
All these thoughts dissipate though when Seunghyun hesitantly leans in a little closer. Jiyong feels his heart drop. Is this really happening? Are they really about to kiss? Just as Jiyong leans in as well, centimeters from locking lips with Seunghyun, do they both jump back after a car behind them honks loudly. They both face front to the the streetlight beaming green. The pair can only wonder how long it was like that. Seunghyun places his hands back on the wheel, pushing down on the gas pedal and moving forward.
Jiyongs entire face is tinted red and there’s a slight awkward tension floating in the air. What if that car didn’t honk? Jiyong would bang his head repeatedly on the dashboard, but…Seunghyun might think he is absolutely batshit. So he refrains. Seunghyun turns the music up
The bass was already shaking the neighborhood by the time Seunghyun’s car pulled up to Siwan’s mansion.
People were packed along the driveway like paparazzi, with drinks in hand, voices loud, and someone already dancing on top of a car. It was chaos, glitter, and youth all wrapped up in neon and privilege. And then Jiyong and Seunghyun stepped out of the car.
The noise didn’t stop, but the tone had shifted. Heads turned like dominos. Conversations fizzled out mid sentence. People gawked, eyes bugged out of skulls like cartoon characters.
Choi Seunghyun. At a party.
With someone. As a plus one. And that someone was… Jiyong? Fucking Kwon Jiyong?!
The man in majority white and cotton-candy hair knew all eyes were on them.
He felt them crawling up his thighs, stinging the curve of his collarbone, trying to analyze and justify just why he was the one walking beside Choi Seunghyun with swagger in his step and a pink glow in his cheeks.
“Told you you look hot,” Seunghyun leaned down to whisper as they passed a group of wide eyed juniors. “They’re tryna peel your clothes off with their eyes.” He smirked. “I don’t blame them.” Jiyong flushed hard and elbowed him, but he was glowing from the praise. “Shut up.” he growled through gritted teeth, though his anger faux. Seunghyun saw right through it. It was like they both had the looking stone from Coraline, enabling them both to peel back the others layers and misconceptions. It was both scary and relieving.
Yim Siwan stood near the entrance, jaw dropping when he spotted them. “NO. FUCKING. WAY.” He jogged over in his sparkly blazer, dragging three people and a tray of champagne with him.“SEUNGHYUN, YOU CAME! ” Jiyongs eyes narrowed. “Technically, I came and he followed,” he said proudly. Siwan blinked, then suddenly bowed profusely before fake sobbing and grabbing Jiyong’s hands dramatically. “You’re my hero. My savior. My king. This is my legacy. I’m gonna talk about this night in my vows.”
Seunghyun chuckled lowly, shaking his head. “Alright, chill.” Siwan handed Jiyong a flute of champagne and whispered, “I’ll protect your firstborn.” The vibrant haired man couldn’t muffle his laughter anymore.
But not everyone was thrilled.
Across the room, Soo Hyuks hand tightened around his glass as he watched the two walk in.
Jiyong’s button-down moving as he walked, showcasing soft and delicate skin, pants that hugged all the right places, and that effortless grin as he threw his head back, laughing at something Seunghyun said. That should be his. That should be his laugh, his body, his plus one. Soo Hyuk didn’t blink as they walked past. Not even when Seunghyuns hand ghosted the small of Jiyong’s back.“Enjoy it while it lasts, melomaniac,” he muttered. “One day, he’s waking up next to me. ”
And then, further back, there was Jennie and Lisa, who nursed identical expressions of disgust. “Oh give me a break,” Jennie scoffed, downing half her drink. “He got Seunghyun to come? Seriously? That’s what it took?” Lisa snorted. “He probably had to beg to be noticed. Seunghyun’s clearly humoring him. Look at him, he’s not even his type.”
“He’s not anyone’s type,” Jennie sneered. Lisa grinned. “Except maybe for pervs.” She tilts her head back as she downs her shot, maybe trying to see if the burn will scorch away all of her lies.
Jiyong dragged Seunghyun deeper into the house, weaving between people and leading them straight to the dance floor. “C’mon! We’re celebrating!” “Celebrating what?” “The fact that I exist,” Jiyong laughed. Seunghyun rolled his eyes but let himself be tugged in.
Now, dancing was not his thing. He knew how to move, sure, but it was just tiring. If he were to dance he would never do it 100%. Jiyong, however, was born for it. He moved like music lived in his spine. He rolled his hips, flicked his wrists, body flowing like he’d choreographed it all himself. A few heads turned and forgot they had dance partners. And Seunghyun just forgot how to breathe.
How was this even legal? Jiyong spun, laughed, turned again, only to lock eyes with Seunghyun this time, who was already watching him like he was something to be hung on a wall and be appreciated. Briefly, Jiyong let himself revel in the moment. He hasn’t been to a party as lit as this in months. And not only that, he was with the hottest guy he’s ever seen, at a party accompanied by people higher up on the social ladder than he’d ever think he could reach. Is this ‘New him’ here to stay? Everything just feels unreal, to…perfect. Is it a sweet dream, or a beautiful nightmare? Jiyong honestly didn’t care.
Later, as the music slowed, Jiyong handed Seunghyun a shot. “You sure? You don’t have to, y’know.” “I told you,” Seunghyun muttered, raising it. “I’m a wine guy.” “So don’t do it.” “But I like you.” He took the shot.
The house roared. Someone yelled, and Jiyongs eyes widened in surprised “SEUNGHYUN TOOK A SHOT?! ” Others screamed like it was the Kimchi Bowl. The Seunghyun Effect, if you will. Jiyong shook his head lightly and downed his own. He also hasn’t drunk in a while either. He tried stealing little sips from his parents stash, but somehow they always found out.
Jiyong turned to get another drink, laughing a little too hard at something CL shouted from across the room, and then—
Splash. Shriek. He blinked.
Jennie stood before him. Hair soaked. Liquid dripping down her chest. “…Shit,” Jiyong whispered. Her face twitched. Every inch of it screamed bitch about to erupt.
“You little—” “Sorry! It was an accident!” Jiyong raised his hands defensively. Look, he’s been out the game for a while, and you lose it if you don’t use it. Jiyong doesn’t feel equipped at the moment for a cat fight, plus he’s four shots deep. “You walked right—” “Oh, I walked into it?” Lisa was suddenly behind her, arms crossed. “You think that fucking bra gives you immunity?”
“Well,” Jiyong muttered. “It’s actually just an extremely cropped tee, but I mean..They do show off my snatched waist.” Just before he could go on a tangent, Seunghyun appeared out of nowhere. Smooth, silent, and deadly. “Is there a problem?” His voice dropped a full octave. Jennie blinked up at him for a moment before gaining her bite back “He spilled his drink on me.” “I’m sure it was an accident.” Seunghyun glanced at Jiyong. “He doesn’t waste drinks on just anyone.”
Lisa opened her mouth, then closed it again. His last sentence felt like the knife piercing through both her and her friend. Jennie fumed, then fake-smiled and walked away, but not before muttering something under her breath. Seunghyun turned back to Jiyong and leaned in close. “You good?” Jiyong looked like a ghost, but no. It was just a horrific realization. “I think I need to sit down before I say something… horribly attractive. ”
As the pair left the area, the drama continued to buzz, and the tension ?
Still thick in the air.
Because Jennie was pissed.
It was this basic information that you do not mess with Kim Jennie. Yet still did Jiyong do it. It’s as if trouble follows him like the plague. Disobedience. And not only that
But Soo Hyuk was watching.
And Seunghyun? Seunghyun was smiling, with no care in the world.
Because for the first time in a long time,
he was having fun.
And it was all because of Jiyong.
Eventually, a while after the altercation, Jiyong and Seunghyun found themselves on the roof of Siwan’s estate. The music from inside was muffled and the air was less stifling, which was a relief for Seunghyun. He breathed in slowly. Seunghyun is still sober for the most part, the little bit of alcohol he did drink doing nothing much more than a slight buzz. Jiyong on the other hand is clearly intoxicated—he’s a giant, giggly mess and his words are slightly slurred.
”So,” he drags out, a bubbly hiccup escaping his chest. “Are you having fun?” Seunghyun breathes out a laugh, staring at the scenery in front of them. The view from the top of Siwans residence is extraordinary, with majority of Han River being in sight and the lights of Hangang Bridge illuminating the water below it. It’s utterly beautiful, especially in the eye of someone like Seunghyun, who has an immense appreciation for art. His lips are parted in thought, and Jiyong watches them intently. When Seunghyun shakes out his daze and starts to talk does he look up from them.
“Yeah, you could say so. But that’s only because you’re around.” He smiles, and he says it so genuinely that Jiyong feels his eyes water at the sincerity. Or maybe he’s just sensitive from the vodka. “What can I say, I’m the life of the party?” He giggles, harder than he had meant to. For a moment he leans forward a little to much and starts to tip over the roof a bit, making Seunghyun each over to grab his hip with one hand and shoulder with the other. He cringes. “It may have not been the best idea to bring you up on a roof drunk.” Jiyong hums. “I’ve been in worse situations under the influence.” And it leaves room for a lot of inferences, none that Seunghyun audibly questions. They both look straight again, and it’s quiet in the comforting way. “‘Should’ve brought your headphones with me.” Jiyong mumbles, and the other man nods his head in agreement. “I’m sure you’ve got a nice voice,” Seunghyun comments. “Sing something.”
“You’re joking,” Jiyong snorts until he sees Seunghyuns deadass face expression. “You are not joking.” He restates, looking back at the man. “I don’t sing.” He confirms. “And I don’t go to parties, I don’t talk to people on rooftops, and I sure as hell don’t try to kiss them at red lights.” Seunghyun lists, and Jiyong inhales sharply. “Touché.” He really would sing for Seunghyun, he sure does like him enough, but he doesn’t even know what to sing.
Seunghyun must’ve read his mind, because he speaks up. “I’ll beatbox behind you.” He states blankly, and Jiyong whips his head towards him in disbelief. “You beatbox?” He chokes out before erupting into a fit of laughter. Seunghyun deadpans, giving the shorter boy time to let it all out. Once his cackles die down, he tilts his head. “Are you done? I’m serious, Ji. I can actually beat box really good!” Jiyong rubs his eye and crosses his arms. “I’ll believe it when I see it—hear it.” “Okay.” Seunghyun clears his throat. Jiyong sits there, expecting to hear some boots and cats amateur beat, but no; Seunghyun can actually beatbox. Good as hell, actually.
It started off tight and steady, almost like a drum machine hidden in his throat. And then he had layered it with a hollow pff-shhh hi-hat, sharp and booming, before slipping in a pulsing bass that vibrated from his chest, deep enough that Jiyong felt it under his behind on the rooftop tiles. The sounds snapped together with precision, building, layering, until it was a full blown beat. A complex, fluid, and alive beat.
The city seemed to fade out around them, replaced by Seunghyuns makeshift drum kit of breath and lips that never seemed to end. His jaw shifted, his tongue clicking against his teeth, snare rolls darting between bursts of bass, like he’d been doing this his whole life in secret. His eyes flicked up at Jiyong once, daring him to say something now, and then he threw in a syncopated rhythm change just to show off. That made the other laugh wholeheartedly.
When he stopped, the rooftop felt oddly quiet, this time not comfortable. The distant hum of Seoul and the party below them creeping back in.
Jiyong blinked, still frozen in place, a smile twitching to break out. For a moment he looked like he was trying to decide whether to laugh or gape. Finally, he let out a sharp bark of disbelief, clapping once. “What the hell,” He leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “Okay, I take it back. That was… actually good. Like, unfairly good. You’ve been hiding that?”
Seunghyun smirked, shoulders lifting. “Guess you were just special enough to know about it, Kwon.”
Jiyong shook his head, grinning now, his laughter spilling out into the night. “God, you’re so full of surprises. Next thing I know, you’ll tell me you can rap, too.”
Seunghyun gives him a look that’s tells it all.
”No,” Jiyong gasps enthusiastically, and Seunghyun just offers a chuckle. “I gotta hear it!” He encourages. “Not until you sing for me.” He reminds, and Jiyong pauses. “I can’t. I’m drunk, remember?” He attempts, and Seunghyun raises a brow. “Nice try, come on. I showed you one of my talents, it’s your turn.” “Aish,” the cotton-candy haired man whines. “Just don’t look at me, okay?” Seunghyun instantly turns his head. For some reason Jiyong feels his heart beat faster than usual, as if he has anticipation for his own voice. He quietly clears his throat.
“Please just once
If I can just see you
I'm ok with losing everything I have
I'll meet you, even if it's in a dream
And we can love again
Just as we are”
By the time Jiyong opens his eyes, Seunghyuns are looking right back at his. His brows furrow. “I thought i told you to—“ “Your voice is pulchritudinous.” He stares blankly, as if Jiyongs voice had left him in a trance. The shorter man’s cheeks heat up, and all anger he had dissipates. “I don’t even know what that means..” he mutters, trying to look anywhere but Seunghyun. It was a song he had wrote one night, bored out of his mind with his mind too loud and his house too quiet. He never thought it would leave his bedroom, but here he is.
“It means beautiful. Like exceptionally beautiful.” Jiyong cannot take this right now. His face is flushed from both flattery and six shots, his stomach is being swarmed by butterflies, and Seunghyuns focus is burning holes through him. “Thanks.” The brunette moves a little closer to him. “I mean it. I feel like you think I’m lying.” His honesty is blowing Jiyongs high right now, badly. But how much is he really complaining? If anything, he wants to remember this moment forever. “Thanks.” He repeats, this time really meaning it. It’s quiet again, but this time they are both just enjoying each others presence. It’s nice. Jiyong leans his head on Seunghyuns shoulder.
The taller man feels so full at the moment, with many things. With pure, unfiltered, and embarrassing affection. With admiration. With comfort. With a drink. He just knows he’ll be grasping this memory for life. “Thanks for making me come. I don’t regret it.” He hears himself say, and Jiyong murmurs “Don’t thank me. I wouldn’t have been invited if not for being your…” he trails off, but Seunghyun could fill in the rest of the sentence if he wanted to. He just wraps an arm around the other. He doesn’t usually feel this happy unless he’s listening to music or playing soccer, and he revels in the feeling.
The two sit there for God knows how long, just long enough to where a handful of people head home and the occasional cars driving by stop for the most part. The next time Seunghyun looks down, Jiyong is asleep. He looks cute, adorable even. His lips are parted slightly and he looks oddly at peace. Then he gets the thought;
How the hell was he supposed to carry a drunk, adorable, scandalously dressed gremlin back into his house without waking up his entire neighborhood?
He sighed, looked up at the sky, as if it had answers, and muttered,
“I’m gonna get arrested”
Notes:
WHO KNOWS WHAT SONG JIYONG SUNG??
Omg my VIPS please talk to me in the comments like I just love to talk to u guys on TikTok and stuff we are one of the best fandoms!! But yeah, I hope you guys like this chapter!
Song list:
My only one from Wu-tang
Chapter Text
That Saturday morning, after the night that was almost a dream because of how perfect it was, Jiyong woke up in…His bed? And not only that, but he was wearing a familiar gray hoodie. As he came to full consciousness, he felt around what he was laying on and came to the conclusion that, yes, he was in fact in his own bed. The real question was how? He was laying on his stomach, so he first arched his back and then sat up to continue stretching. Besides the splitting headache, he didn’t feel too bad.
The sunlight pierced through the blinds of Jiyongs bedroom like judgment, but he wasn’t repenting. Not when the first thing he saw was a notification from the one and only lighting up his phone screen:
Seunghyun 🖤 :
Hope you slept good, because you won’t believe the things I had to do to get you in that bed.
Jiyong stared at it for a solid minute. Then giggled and bit his lip. Then kicked his legs in the air like a whole teenage girl in a K-drama.
Ji 💘:
No way you’re texting me like this after putting me to bed like a Disney prince.
He sent it and then grinned at his screen. God, the grip this man had on him. It was criminal. He got the idea to see if the hoodie that once belonged to the other smelled like him, and to his appreciation it did! Honey, sandalwood, and maybe the slight undertone of high-end cologne.
The rest of the weekend went by quickly, and Jiyong didn’t do much else but lay in his bedroom all day and message Seunghyun. He’s probably giggled and rolled around his bed more than one hundred times, and the urge never went away. Seunghyun really was such a flirt! His parents didn’t pay much attention to it, but Dami sure did. She would give him a weird look at the dinner table, repeatedly barge into his bedroom with the same skeptical expression, and he was always getting emails that someone suspiciously near his home address was trying to log into his Instagram account. Usually Jiyong would just tell her, she was the cool older sister after all. But with how she’s acting is reminding them when they were a little younger and she was a big snitch.
It’s now Monday and Jiyong wakes up excited for school for the first time since he was probably in middle school. Why, you ask? Because Jiyong would finally get to see Seunghyun after a two-day hiatus. Of course that isn’t a long time, and the two texted each other just about every hour of the weekend, but nothing would beat seeing the others bright, dimply smile in person. He picked out his outfit for the day
Slightly short, snug black denim shorts, paired with an Pharrell Williams tee, though it doesn’t really matter because he covers it with the hoodie he was given by Seunghyun. On his feet he wore his infamous Converse and tube socks combo. Hello, they are in the macro decade! What else were you expecting?
And of course he added Seunghyuns headphones over his neck for a little extra spice. Or just because he wanted to. Pick your poison, but regardless; he was today’s rumor.
What Jiyong had previously said was a joke. Or at least it was supposed to be. He didn’t even make it three steps onto school grounds before he heard “BROOOO!!” “Jiyong! Oh my God—” “Please tell me you saw the vid!”
Daesung, Taeyang, and oddly enough Seungri were practically dashing towards him. “What video?” Jiyong raised an eyebrow, already halfway checking his reflection in a car window. “You and Jennie, dummy!” Daesung said, eyes wide. “Someone posted the moment you dumped that vodka on her and then her going nuts!”
“It’s on everyones stories,” Taeyang chimed in energetically. “EVERYONE. Like… there’s memes already. The most viral video? At six hundred thousand views.” “And that’s not even the main thing, ” Seungri added, breathless. “You and Seunghyun? Walking in like the main characters? You know people were crying into their red solo cups, right?” Jiyong blinked. Then smirked.
“Good.” He patted Daesungs chest with mock sympathy and kept walking, headphones bobbing around his neck. The trio stayed frozen, jaws dropped as they watched him strut through the parking lot like he owned the entire district. “Did he just…” “ He’s different now. ” “He got that Seunghyun buff…” “Why are you saying it as if Seunghyun is some mythical god?” Seungri sneers, a little offended if you ask him. Are they insinuating that he doesn’t have the ‘Seunghyun buff’? Cause he’ll let them know that being Seunghyuns friend is not all that he’s good for.
”Just face it, dude. You’re not the favorite Seunghyun.” Taeyang huffs, as if it was something everyone thinks about but never says aloud. Which it wasn’t! Seungri narrowed his eyes. Whatever. They weren’t on his level anyways.
Inside the building the halls were louder than usual. Not with actual voices, but with attention. Eyes. Stares. Side conversations whispered behind locker doors and in messages being typed on their phones as they speak. He’d always been known around school for his rebellious energy, his eyeliner, his ‘I-don’t-give-a-damn’ walk.
And it seemed as the days go by he just became more and more untouchable. Even when he passed Soo Hyuk, he just looked at him like he was something to mount and hang on a wall. Jiyong barely flinched. He was used to that predatory stare (Okay, maybe his skin crawled just a little. There was something too intense about the way Soo Hyuks eyes lingered…).
But whatever. He wasn’t the one Jiyong was dressing up for.
Because across the hallway, right under the glare of the schools lights, and surrounded by a crowd of people he wasn’t even paying attention to, was Seunghyun. His soccer jersey was layered over a white tee, wearing jorts that fell just above the knee, with Jordans fresh as hell, and a silver chain catching the light. He smiled a bit dismissively at something one had said, but those dimples kept intact. As usual, once their eyes locked, everything else melted away. As usual, Seunghyun’s smile twitched wider, and Jiyongs pulse skipped a beat.
He isn’t saying this all briefly because he doesn’t care, or he doesn’t get the same rush of heat up to his cheeks, but because it’s..I guess he could say ordinary now. Jiyongs quite used to the butterflies throwing a tantrum in his belly, the memories that flood his mind of their previous encounters that send a smile to his face, and even the blush.
Seunghyun then glances to the hoodie, that belongs to him, on Jiyong.
Jennie Kim applied her mascara with surgical precision, not even flinching as the mascara wand came dangerously close to her waterline. Her custom mirror, mounted inside the door of her pale pink locker that yes she forced someone to paint for her, caught the exact shimmer in her glare.
Behind her, the hallway buzzed.
But not for her.
No, not lately.
For the past two days, every whisper, every “Did you see?” and “Oh my god, they’re actually cute!” hadn’t been about Jennie. Or Lisa. Or any of the Blackpink girls.
It was about Jiyong.
And Seunghyun.
Her lips pressed into a thin, furious line. “Who even is he? A rebel, a joke, and an accessory, that’s what.” she muttered to herself, tilting her head slightly to catch the perfect arch of her lashes. The problem wasn’t just the drink incident. The punch dried eventually and her clothes went back to normal, but her reputation did not. The second Jiyong flipped his hair and got praised for it, or when he would just step into the schools vicinity and become the topic, that’s when Jennie felt it. The slip. Of relevance. Of power. Of ‘who-the-hell-am-I-without-the-stares?’.
“Who even are we,” Jisoo whispered more hauntingly this time, eyes shifting to catch Lisas reflection from behind her. “If we’re not the girls?” Jennie gasps, and Rosé and Lisa follow. “Don’t ever say some shit like that again.” Her hand trembled for a second. Nope. Not happening.
She capped the mascara and smiled,sharp and venomous.
Revenge?
Yeah.
It was long overdue. Jiyong should be lucky she let him bask in the spotlight for this long.
Meanwhile…
The school courtyard bathed in the warmth of sunbeams and a different kind of heat entirely.
Seunghyun and Jiyong stood way too close to not be dating and way too far to actually be. Which made it worse. It’s for sure driving everyone around them crazy. Every word from their mouths was laced with flirtation. Every look was a ‘God, I want you so bad but should I take the step further?’
They weren’t fooling absolutely anyone.
Jiyong leaned on the wall lazily, twirling a pencil through his fingers while Seunghyun towered beside him, eyes dipped low with a smirk dancing on his face.
“You’re doing that thing again,” Seunghyun muttered. “What thing?” Jiyong blinked, the perfect picture of innocence. “The thing where you pretend you’re not purposely brushing your leg against mine.” “Oh. That thing,” the smaller one grinned. “Guess I am.” He added with a small giggle, both exchanging amused glances. “And I see your wearing my hoodie. First my headphones, now that. What’s next?” He jokes, shoulders shaking yet no laughter leaving his mouth. Jiyong shrugs. “Ion’know. Depends on what I can steal next.” “Maybe my hear—“ “Don’t finish that sentence. Too cheesy.”
“Too cheesy? Or maybe you’re scared for me to say it out loud.” Seunghyun smirks, leaning a little closer. Jiyong scoffs and physically pushes the others face back. “Please. I don’t get scared easily.” The taller man raises an eyebrow. “I’ll keep that in mind for Halloween. You like haunted houses?” He asks. “You kidding!? Oh my god, we are so going to one!” Jiyong explains, suddenly excited for the spooky holiday to arrive now.
CL rolled her eyes so hard she nearly dislocated something. “Alright, cut it out. I’m scared y’all are gonna start making out right here or something,” she said, shaking her head lightly with a smirk. “You’re about one breath away from turning this courtyard into an R-rated drama.”
They both laughed like guilty little devils, and CL backed away, probably because if she heard them talk anymore she would throw up from the…Cuteness? Obvious romantic tension? But before anything else could happen, Seungri arrived with his clipboard energy and personal assistant tone.
“Alright, TOP; You’ve got practice at 5, Coach said no skipping. And don’t forget Ms. Lee’s essay is due tomorrow, and we’ve got that group study session with Minho later, remember?” Seunghyun nodded along calmly, offering an easy “Yeah, yeah,” like he didn’t already have all of it scheduled in his brain. Jiyong resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
What is he, a celebrity?
Even more annoying? The constant flow of people. Friends, classmates, fans—no seriously. Jiyong couldn’t count the amount of people who came up to Seunghyun to joke or dap him up with only his two hands. But what surprised Jiyong most?They didn’t ignore him. They included him. Like… He belonged there. Like he wasn’t…Whatever words you would use to describe Jiyong just two weeks ago.
Somehow, over the span of a short period of time, he had moved from school outcast to standing beside Choi Seunghyun like it was normal. Expected. As if this was always the way things were.
He wasn’t stupid. He didn’t like Seunghyun for the popularity, it had started way before he even knew the man’s name. But damn… the perks? Not bad at all. All of it honestly just adds onto Jiyongs delusions that him and Seunghyun may just be made for each other.
For Jiyong, it was no longer a scramble to find an empty table in the corner of the cafeteria to sit with Daesung on the few days he wasn’t stuck in detention, or an attempt to finish his food quickly before someone did some bullshit and set him off. These days, people watched him walk.
They smiled, nodded, or in the case of an insecure cheerleader—seethed.
But this time, just before he could reach his table, a perfectly manicured hand snaked into his path. “Jiyong!” Jennie called softly, her voice honeyed and eyes already sparkling. Oh, this bitch.
He slowed his steps, expecting some new round of veiled insults dressed in Gucci, but when he turned, She looked… Soft. Welcoming. “Hey,” she said gently, twisting a strand of her black hair around her finger. “I just wanted to say I think we got off on the wrong foot.” Jiyong blinked. Twice. He’s not buying it.
“We did?” he asked, eyebrows arching suspiciously. “Didn’t know that when you dumped an entire energy drink on the sneakers I got for my birthday sophomore year.” Jennie giggled in response. A practiced, airy kind of giggle, aka the kind meant to make people forget she had fangs. “Okay, fair. But… I’ve been thinking,” she continued, looking down at her nails, “We’re clearly running in the same circles now,” that struck a chord in Jiyong that he wasn’t expecting to. “And truthfully? I admire you. You don’t care what people think. That’s cool.” It all sounded so backhanded.
It truthfully was a lot of words. And not a single one felt real.
Still, Jiyong forced a small, “oh that’s nice of you” kind of smile. His stomach churned from the fakeness clinging to Jennie’s smile like a bad perfume (like the one you were wearing to that party..). “Alright. Friends,” he said with an uneasy nod before slipping past her.
But he didn’t miss the way her smile twitched, just a tad bit too triumphant. Yeah. She’s cooking something. She has been. And it’s not gonna be cute.
He approached the table to a whirlwind of exactly what he needed. “AYEEE, there he is!” Taeyang called, scooting over. “Ugh, you’re late and ugly,” CL deadpanned, throwing a carrot stick at him. “Get it together.” “Hi, hyung,” Daesung greeted with warmth, always consistent. “—and like I said , her music’s fine, but don’t call her the Queen of K-pop,” Seungri muttered, still mid-debate with Seunghyun. The latter stopped paying attention ages ago.
“Glad to see you too,” Jiyong grinned, tray sliding onto the table like he was sliding into his own sitcom entrance. And then, there it was. Just like clockwork, the two looked at each other. Seunghyuns eyes met his across the table, all casual on the surface but drenched in something deeper. That quiet, intense stare that held more meaning than any label they’d tried to define themselves with. Love and lust, equal parts.
“You coming to my game again?” Seunghyun asked, his voice low but direct.“Wouldn’t miss it,” Jiyong said, smile softer now, real. Before he could revel in the moment, Daesung piped up. “We should all go,” he offered. “And then hang out after.”
Jiyongs heart sank slightly. He wanted that Seunghyun only time; The kind where every sentence made his skin feel like velvet. But…He loved his friends. They were his people first. And besides, Daesung looked at him with those big, honest eyes and leaned in close. “Not saying I don’t like Seunghyun,” he whispered low, “But I just need to see if he’s good for you.”
Jiyong smiled, understanding. And he appreciated it, even if he kinda wanted to skip straight to the part where he was kissing Seunghyun under the bleachers. “Alright,” Jiyong nodded. “Group date it is.” Before he could process anything else, a tray slammed onto the seat next to him.
“I’m coming too,” Park Bom announced flatly, dropping her backpack with a thud. There was a beat of silence. Then the table collectively nodded. Because of course she was. You don’t deny Park Bom.
She opened her chocolate milk with a satisfying pop and started eating like she’d been at the table the whole time. CL had half a mind to ask where the hell she was, but there was a high chance she would not like the answer. Jiyong leaned back with a soft exhale, biting into his sandwich as he looked around at his bizarre little life:
A superstar athlete sneaking glances at him. A pop-culture menace he fears may hate him more than she loves him. Seungri. The nicest man he’ll ever meet, nothing but pure. Another man, who he’s seen with a shirt on more times the past few days than he has in his entire highschool years. And a wild card named Bom who might’ve been his spirit animal. A group of loyal weirdos, whom he loved. Whatever happened next, he knew he would have them in his corner.
Later on at Seunghyuns game…
The stands were buzzing just like last time, with voices overlapping in celebration and casual chatter. Jiyong only had one thought the same thought he had previously:
Seunghyun was ridiculous.
Utterly, unfairly, inhumanly ridiculously good at soccer.
And it didn’t help that the sun had hit him just right as he sprinted up the field, muscles flexing under his jersey, sweat glistening along the sharp lines of his neck. When he winked at Jiyong right before the game kicked off, Jiyong nearly slid off the bleachers.
But he wasn’t alone.
“Okay, I have to be honest, Seunghyun is a literal beast at soccer,” CL said, her voice flat with awe. A compliment from CL was rare, only highlighting the fact even more.
Everyone at their little section, which was Daesung, Youngbae, Taeyang, Bom, Lee Jung Jae and Byung Hun, nodded as one, eyes locked on the game.
Meanwhile, Jiyong could barely focus. Because every time Seunghyun made a sharp turn, or balanced the ball on his heel before launching it into the goal, he felt his entire body heating up. Especially when his lips parted in focus and determination, making him imagine those same lips peppering kisses down his thighs—
“FOCUS,” Jiyong hissed to himself mentally, cheeks blazing .
He tried to distract himself with the company. On one side, Lee Jung Jae was laughing at something, leaning far too close to Lee Byung Hyun, who pretended to be annoyed. But even as he deadpanned a grumble, his eyes softened every time Jung Jae smiled. Something was definitely going on. Jiyong wouldn’t say anything out loud, but he smiled to himself knowingly. Then briefly wondered if this was how others thought about him and Seunghyun.
In the end, Seunghyun’s team crushed the scoreboard. 15 to 40. Seriously, who are these teams they’re going against? Absolutely awful. Jiyong and the others left the stands in high spirits, heading to the parking lot in the back where the players cooled off and regrouped. The sun began to set, making the sky an orange, pink, and yellow sherbet. It was beautiful.
When Jiyong looked back down he saw a man, Christian Yu if he remembers correctly from being in the same class as him, made a beeline for CL.“Hey,” he grinned, hair slicked back, “You were watching me, right?” “Absolutely not,” CL deadpanned, unimpressed and uninterested. “You just kept running in front of Seunghyun.” The group howled, and even Christian laughed, clutching his chest like she’d stabbed him. Once he finished cackling, he introduced himself. “Ian.” CL raised a brow. “I thought your name was Christian. Where’d you get Ian from?”
”Well, actually my name is Ba-rom.”
”…Okay? How did you get Christian Yu from, then?”
Christian shrugs. “‘Dunno.” Her frown deepens. “How’d you get CL?” “My names Chaerin Lee. Think you can put the pieces together?” She stares blankly. He gives her a look that says he knows he’s about to piss her off.
”’Dunno.”
Nearby, Seunghyun was surrounded by teammates and the usual crowd of friends. Daesung and Taeyang were already embedded in a conversation with him about the final goal, and Seungri was… Well, being Seungri and reminding everyone who assisted whom. Jiyong hung back for a moment, watching it all.
Then those familiar eyes found him through the noise. And just like always, everything else muted. He wandered over, pretending to act casual, with his shoes dusty, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, and his heart beating so loudly he could feel it in his throat. “You did great in your game today.” he said, nudging Seunghyun’s arm.
“Thanks,” Seunghyun said with a soft grin. “It’s only because you were here.” Jiyong looked down instantly, the butterflies in his stomach once again going full rave mode. “You’re just saying that.” He messed with a rock under his foot before kicking it away.“Since when did I ever lie?” That caught him. The air shifted.
There was no joking in Seunghyuns voice, no smugness. Just the clear, unwavering truth. An inscrutable feeling wrapped around Jiyong’s ribcage and made it hard to breathe. He looked up at the other, heart practically on his sleeve at the moment. So did Seunghyun. In that moment, all noise, lights, and background conversations faded.
It was just them. Two hearts pulled tight like magnets, staring with the kind of intensity people spend their lives chasing. It felt ancient somehow. Like something that had happened before and would happen again. In different lifetimes. Different forms.
“So, uh… are y’all just gonna kiss in front of the vending machine or?” Bom yelled, loud enough to wake a coma patient. Jiyong jumped. Seunghyun snorted. “The night’s still young!” Bom added, twirling in place and pointing to the group. “What are we doing next? Sitting around? Being lame? No. We’re hot and chaotic. Let’s hit the city!” Everyone cheers in agreement, already leaving the parking lot. Seunghyun glances at Jiyong with a glint in his eyes before following. “What’s with cutting in with a stupid question when it’s clear we’re having a moment?” The man with colorful hair grumbles.
So that’s how a bunch of teens end up on the sidewalks of Myeongdong. They blended in though, the atmosphere alive, with the streetlamps buzzing overhead as music spilled out of open bars and food vendors called to customers with sizzling treats. Illuminated signs bathed the night in color.
The group had spread out a bit, some stopping to try street food, others slipping into shops or arcades.
CL and Christian Yu could be spotted in the window of a retro gaming store. She was dancing like she had something to prove against the man as they played Dance Dance Revolution. because she did. Christian was too smug for someone losing every round.
Bom, Taeyang, and Seungri disappeared into a shop selling “authentic” vintage jackets, all three re emerging twenty minutes later with loud, hideous ones they immediately began to wear like fashion icons.
Daesung found a magician doing card tricks, and somehow ended up doing the tricks himself by the end.
And then Jiyong was hand-in-hand with Seunghyun.
They weren’t hiding it. And while Seunghyun’s grip was casual, thumb brushing over Jiyongs knuckles from time to time, Jiyong felt electrified. He didn’t even like physical touch.
They shared a slushy, leaned into each other when something made them laugh, and when they passed a shop selling jewelry, Seunghyun wordlessly stepped inside. “Pick one,” he said once they both were inside . “Huh?” “I want to get you something.” Jiyong rolled his eyes. “You’re so corny.” But he still picked a small, thin chain with a cute daisy charm.
“That’s very you,” Seunghyun said, slipping it around his neck and letting it sit just above his collarbone. Jiyongs face was on fire. “You’re very me,” he whispered before he could stop himself. Seunghyun didn’t answer, in fact, he didn’t even know what it meant, he just kissed the top of Jiyong’s head, quick and soft, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He was burning on the inside. Once he paid for the necklace they left the store and continued walking.
They occasionally bumped into each other, because apparently Jiyong didn’t know how to walk straight. The two kept blaming the other playfully.
”Okay, Q&A time.” “What am I, a celebrity?” Seunghyun joked. “With how you’re trailed after at school like Lee Myung-bak, yeah. Kind of.” Jiyong responds quickly. “But, that does count as a question and answer, so it’s your turn to ask me one.” Seunghyuns eyes widened as he turned his head to look at him. “Wow. What manipulation.” “There was no way for me to guess you saying that. Now ask me a question!!” Seunghyun tsks
“What’s something you want to learn how to do?” Seunghyun asked suddenly, his deep voice carrying lazily between them. His hands were tucked into his pockets and his shoulders were loose, like he had all the time in the world to wait for Jiyongs answer.
The question made Jiyong pause, just enough to chew on his lip in thought. He wasn’t used to people asking him things like that. curious things, open-ended things. Things that showed actual interest in his personality. With Seunghyun, though, it felt less like an interrogation and more like… A space to be honest.
“Producing, probably.” Jiyong finally said, his words coming out tentative, like he was testing the weight of them. “I think beats are super cool to, like, listen to, I guess? I don’t know. It’s just something I wouldn’t mind partaking in.” He scratched the back of his neck with a lopsided smile, embarrassed at how clumsy the explanation sounded aloud.
But Seunghyun didn’t think it was clumsy at all. He glanced sideways, eyes softening as though Jiyong had just revealed something important. “No, that’s good. Producing would be fun.” A corner of his mouth tugged up, dimples flashing briefly. “And I think you’ve got a good enough ear for it.” He punctuated the compliment with a wink.
Jiyong groaned dramatically, bumping his shoulder into Seunghyuns with little force. “You’re just trying to compliment yourself because we both listen to the same music. I’m not that stupid.”
“Your words, not mine,” Seunghyun teased, shrugging as though he’d just agreed to something undeniable.
That made Jiyong laugh, a genuine sound that rang out against the busy night. The air between them was light and easygoing, but Jiyong was already plotting his counter-question. He wanted to peel Seunghyun back layer by layer, the same way he sometimes picked apart a song until he understood every single hi-hat.
“Okay,” Jiyong said after a pause. “Tell me something not that many people know about you.”
Seunghyun didn’t even hesitate. “I do not wake up with a smile. I’ll literally have the biggest attitude and grumpy face for about twenty minutes. Most of my family just gives me my space until I’m back to normal.”
The honesty was so unexpected, so mundane and vivid, that Jiyong burst out laughing right there on the sidewalk. “The wrath of Tabi, huh?” he barked out, already knowing the nickname would earn him some retaliation.
Sure enough, Seunghyun flicked him on the forehead, not hard but sharp enough to make Jiyong yelp and giggle at the same time. “See?” Seunghyun grumbled amiably. “You’re starting to know too much.”
“That’s the point,” Jiyong smirked, eyes glinting mischievously. “It’s all part of my plan to overthrow you as king of our school.” Seunghyuns smirk matched his, though his next move was bolder. He slung an arm around Jiyong, pulling him in with the ease of someone who did it all the time (he doesn’t). His touch was casual, heavy and warm, but the gesture made Jiyongs heart trip over itself.
“How about we share the throne instead?” Seunghyun asked, voice dipping into something sweet, almost like honey, as if he were daring Jiyong to argue.
Jiyong could feel his brain short-circuiting, his cheeks prickling with heat. The atmosphere had shifted, the once playful banter suddenly charged with something softer, something that made it harder to breathe. He tried desperately to distract himself.
“Your turn,” Jiyong said quickly, eyes darting to the side, searching for a crack in the moment that would keep him from melting entirely.
Seunghyun sucked his teeth, looking up as though the question had physically floated above them into the night sky. Then, with an almost mischievous glint in his eye, he asked, “What is my best quality?”
Jiyong groaned, dragging the sound out. “So self-absorbed,” he whined, though the smile tugging at his lips betrayed his lack of annoyance.
Without much thought, he blurted, “Your dimples.”
The answer startled Seunghyun. He knew people thought they were charming, he wasn’t oblivious. But hearing it from Jiyong? That was different. It was too blunt, too sincere, and it hit him in a place he wasn’t prepared for. He stalled, unsure whether to laugh or deflect. Because really? Was he supposed to be flattered or offended? Did Jiyong only like him for his appearance? Was his personality not for him?
Jiyong caught the hesitation and grinned wider, almost wickedly. “Just kidding,” he teased, his tone laced with smugness.
“You little—” Seunghyun started, eyes narrowing in mock offense and then widening again in relief.
“You’re easy to talk to,” Jiyong interrupted, his tone softer now, more earnest. His smile shifted into something less playful, something that made Seunghyun’s chest tighten. Sincerity
For a moment, Seunghyun just looked at him, taken aback. No one had ever said that before. In fact, most of his life, he’d heard the opposite. He’d heard that he was distant, cold, hard to reach. To hear Jiyong say it, so casually, so truthfully, felt like a door opening where he hadn’t even realized there was one.
“…Thank you,” he said finally, the words quieter than usual, almost reverent. It was out of character.
They had stopped walking without realizing it, and now stood facing each other in the middle of the bustling street. Neon lights painted them in streaks of pink, blue, and gold, the buzz of Myeongdong moving around them as if they were standing inside their own little bubble.
“No one’s ever told me that before,” Seunghyun admitted. His voice was low, almost confessional. “I always thought they were right.”
Jiyongs eyes softened, his mouth curving into a beam that was as bright as any neon sign around them. “I think you just hadn’t met the right person yet.”
For a moment, they just stared at each other. The air between them was alive, humming with something unspoken and delicate.
Seunghyun broke the tension with a chuckle, shaking his head. “Who’s self-absorbed now?” Jiyong laughed with him, though his chest still thrummed with the echo of their words.
Another memory carved itself quietly between them, one Jiyong already knew he would keep close.
By the time the group began to gather again, energy waning and the hour creeping past midnight, there was an air of something sacred in the air.
CL was wiping sweat from her face, triumphant. Bom had a glitter tattoo she absolutely did not have thirty minutes ago. Taeyang and Daesung were comparing retro vinyl records. And Jiyong?
Jiyong stood beside Seunghyun like it was the most normal thing in the world. And honestly, it might’ve been.
Notes:
Christian Yu (DPR Ian) and CL are not official but I’ve seen a lot of dating rumors so..honestly their banter could be platonic or romantic. Up 2 U
Why am I getting mad at mySELF over the pacing. I just want them making out already 💔
Guys Idk how much I like these chapter eugh
Chapter Text
The next few weeks passed in a blur of shared glances and hushed whispers. Each day was a slow and tantalizing dance. Jiyong hadn't known a moment of peace since Seunghyun had decided to be a menace. A teasing, smirking, infuriatingly handsome, menace. Every interaction was a warzone of flirtation. Words were layered with double meanings similar to the double entendres both parties often listened to in music, glances lingered a beat too long, and accidental yet wholly intended touches burned through their clothes on a daily. They were so close to crossing the line, to letting their carefully constructed walls crumble. One wrong move and they’d be kissing in the middle of the cafeteria. One right move and they’d be making out in the gym locker room.
But neither of them made that move.
They just… Hovered. Teetered. Circled. It was a delicious yet agonizing torture neither of them seemed to want to end.
One night they take the next step and call.
Jiyong’s heart did a frantic backflip when the screen lit up with Tabi is FaceTiming you... He scrambled to fix his hair and furiously applied shimmering lip gloss on his mouth. He didn’t know why he had put it on, but now he looked like he’d tried to get ready for a call he hadn't known was coming. He bit his lip, took a deep breath, and answered.
The screen lit up with Seunghyuns face. He was lying in bed in a dim room with tousled hair and was evidently shirtless under the covers. “Hey,” Seunghyun rasped, voice low and sleepy. And sexy. So stupidly sexy.
"Hey, TOP," Jiyong squeaked, feeling a giddy energy bubble up inside him. Seunghyun did nothing but groan exasperatedly, but he won’t ever confess that he may have liked when Jiyong called him the nickname. Only him, though. Like always.
"Ji," Seunghyun warned, "If you don't stop calling me that..."
Jiyong’s legs kicked playfully in the air beneath his covers. "What? You don’t like it?" He cocked his head to the side.
"It's weird," Seunghyun said, a smirk playing on his lips and his eyes half-lidded. "Feels like I’m in a fanfiction."
"Boohoo. What do you want me to call you, then?" Jiyong asked, blinking away the heaviness of exhaustion. Seunghyuns eyebrow arched.
"How about… boyfriend?"
There was a pause, a moment suspended in time. Then Jiyong threw his face into a pillow, a muffled groan escaping his lips. "You’re the worst."
Seunghyuns deep, amused laugh filled the space between them. They continued to talk, about everything and nothing. Laid in their separate beds and separate houses, they were miles apart, but their hearts were synced through the screen.
Eventually, the easy conversation settled into a comfortable silence. Jiyongs voice grew softer, his words slurred with sleep. His legs stopped their playful kicking, and his eyes began to flutter shut. Seunghyun watched him, the smirk fading into a soft, warm smile that looked a little too much like love for a man not even a legal adult yet.
"Night, Jiyong," he whispered, before making sure his phone was being charged and then laying it flat as he himself got comfortable.
The clinking of silverware filled the Choi family dining room the next dinner, as plates of bolgogi, jeotgal, japchae, and kimchi along with other side dishes sat steaming between the four of them. Seunghyuns father, who was surprisingly present, was halfway through his second serving, their mother was gracefully sipping on tea, and Hye-yoon was eyeing him like a hawk. Quickly he knew that she knew something, and it nearly broke him into a cold sweat. What made it even worse was that she didn't even get to the point with it; just kept smiling at their parents and glancing at him with whatever smile it was that she was directing towards him. Along with it she was also being weirdly obedient. Usually Hye-yoon would give short and blunt answers whenever their mom would ask about her day, but she was actually willing to go into depth today. Seunghyuns guard was up for sure, but things weren't playing in his hand, so really it was just a waiting game.
"So, hyung, how has soccer been?" his mother asks, noticing hiis absence in their conversations. Seunghyun blows on his bulgogi and shrugs. "It's going cool, i guess. We've won the first two games." despite it being a very saturated and relatively short answer, she seems happy with it. "Oh, thats great, Tabi!" she claps for a moment, and then glances at Seunghyuns father, who gets the hint and clears his throat. "Anything else? Like friends or," he trails off with a knowing look. "Girlfriends?" Seunghyun shakes his head quickly, trying not to make a show of his annoyance. Hye-yoon laughs into her food. "What's so funny, huh, Hye'?" Sunghyun snaps, and from an outsiders point of view it looks like he did it for nothing, but oh he has a reason. "Just thinking of something funny." She says hollowly, the lie evident. Is no one else picking up on this but him!? "But what about the friends part?" she asks nicely, and Seunghyuns eyes turn into slits.
"No."
"Hyung, you say this every year!" His mother then says, clearly fed up. "You're just so to yourself. You never tell us if you're talking to anyone, or if you're going out with some friends. I find it hard to believe that you just don't do any of these things, as you say." Seunghyuns eyebrow twitches and he looks down at his plate. "What happened to that Seungri kid? wasn't he just over not too long ago?" his father questions, and everyone else at the table looks at him. "Jaiyga, that was eight months ago." "Oh." So now Seunghyuns extra irritated. He can't help but utter "Well maybe if you were around you would know that.." to which his mom says "Tabi." in that tone. The table goes quiet, and suddenly Seunghyun isn't feeling very hungry, yet he continues to eat.
“So,” she said suddenly, her voice sharp enough to cut into conversation. “Who ya talkin’ to?”
The question hung in the air like thick fog.
Seunghyun froze mid-bite, spoon of rice hovering halfway to his mouth.
He blinked once. Then slowly, silently, shoved the spoon into his mouth and chewed like nothing happened.
But it was too late. Everything happened.
Their mother raised a brow.
Their father looked up from his plate.
“Hm?” she asked lightly. “What’s that about?”
“I have no idea what she’s talking about,” Seunghyun replied smoothly, reaching for some kimchi as if his heartbeat wasn’t racing. Hye-yoon rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck. “Oh, please, Oppa. Our rooms are right next to each other! You’re on the phone every night, laughing like some love struck teenager. What? You think I wouldn’t notice?” both their parents whip their heads.
Seunghyuns jaw ticked as he stabbed a piece of beef a little too aggressively, and gritted his teeth so hard he's surprised he didn't crack a tooth.
“Please, Hye’,” he muttered. “Not right now.” it's rare to get a plea out of him, but Seunghyun is seriously not ready to have his parents know about whatever him and Jiyong have at the moment. Especially while his dads at the table.
Their parents exchanged a look. One of those subtle, parental glances that said 'Do you know something? Because I don’t. But I want to.' “You’re always quiet, always to yourself,” their father finally spoke, voice steady. “If you’re talking to someone, we’d like to know.” the man doesn't deserve it in Seunghyuns eyes, and why is he the one talking right now? Does he care now? Give Seunghyun a break—figuratively and literally.
“I’m not talking to anyone.” He tries again.
“Liar,” Hye-yoon accused with a smug grin.
Then she dropped the bombshell.
“I saw a notification pop up on your phone. Someone named Ji.” She air-quoted, her eyes twinkling. "So what makes you thin—" “Except it had a heart emoji next to it.”
Seunghyun slammed his hand down on the table, fork clattering onto the plate with a sharp clang. “Goddammit, Hye’!” the table jerked and Seunghyun seethed, face contorting into ssomething full of anger and embarassment. Why was she even looking at his phone?
“Hey!” their father barked, brows drawn together. “Watch your language!” His aggression was unnecessary in his sons eyes.
Seunghyuns jaw was tightly clenched, with a deep frown and dark eyes. He looked like he was five seconds from launching himself out the window. He was. “Hyung,” their mother said, voice gentler, but not passive, as always “Who’s Ji?”
He stood abruptly, chair screeching behind him. His fists were balled-up at his sides. Hye-yoon, still grinning, threw her arms up in exasperation. “Come on! We don’t care! You’re obviously into someone. Just admit it!” It's like she just couldn't see the importance of his whole thing, but Seunghyun didn’t say a word. Not a single syllable.
He just turned, walked out of the dining room, and thundered up the stairs, his footsteps heavy against the hardwood.
Then SLAM.
Bedroom door shut. Locked.
The three left at the table sat in silence.
“…Well,” their father finally said, blinking. “That was quite the dinner.”
Their mother sighed, adjusting her chopsticks as she went to pick up a bite of hobak bokkeum. “So. Tell us everything you know.”
Hye-yoon leaned in with a devious glint in her eyes.
“Okay. So I think his name’s Jiyong. I saw the name in one of the messages a few days ago, and today I caught a glimpse of a pic. He’s really pretty. Like scary pretty. All slim and sharp jawed and glowy skin. Looks like he walked off a magazine.”
Their mom perked up, hearing a pronoun she wasn't expecting. “Is it a girl or a boy?”
“Oh, definitely a boy,” Hye-yoon confirmed, nodding. “A very hot one.”
Their dad blinked again. “Huh.” his tone was unidentifiable. “Well,” their mom shrugged, smiling faintly. “That would explain why Seunghyuns been acting like he’s floating for the past week.” “He’s not floating,” Hye-yoon muttered, rolling her eyes again. “He’s hovering. Like a doofus.”
Their dad sighed. “Teenagers..” his voice a little whimsy, as if he's reminiscing.
But their mom tapped her lip thoughtfully. “I want to meet this Jiyong,” she she commented softly, grabbing a napkin to clean her face. Hye-yoon grinned wickedly. “Me too. I wanna see if he can handle my pain-in-the-ass of a brother.” their mom snorted, not exactly meaning to. "Language." she then adds after. They all go back to eating.
Meanwhile, upstairs…
Seunghyun sat on his bed, head in his hands, heart racing.
His phone lit up beside him. It's a call from Jiyong.
Despite the embarrassing and agitating dinner, he can't find himself regretting getting close to the boy. The boy who actually made Seunghyun wake up on a school day and look forward to it, who he spent extra time getting dressed just over the possibility that Jiyong might look at him a fraction of a second longer, and who made him for the first time in his life look at someone with thoughts that are past anything strictly platonic. Seunghyun would sit through that family interrogation one million times if it assured that for the rest of his life he would be able to look at those gorgeous brown eyes. he's letting the phone ring, forgetting to actually answer.
"I was starting to think you got bored of me." Is the first thing Seunghyun hears when he presses the green button. He chuckles. "Not quite yet, I haven't. But I don't think i ever will." Seunghyun responds confidently, and he can practically see Jiyongs reaction through the phone. "Same." is all Jiyong says after, and its probably all he can really conjure up at the moment. Seunghyun chuckles and bites his lip, amused, then a question forms.
"Does your famiy know you've been on the phone with an incredibly attractive man every night?" he asks as a joke, yet the answer is highly anticipated. The other line goes quiet for a moment, and then Jiyong speaks up. "Not really. But that's just because I don't really talk to them about my non-existent love life." he explains. "Do yours?" Jiyong adds after, and Seungyuns breaths in sharply. "Well they do now." he replies, making sure to sound very discontented with the fact. "Ouch, sounds like it was against your will." Jiyong points out.
"Yeah, it's what I get though I guess for leaving my phone around my nosy sister, knowing damn well I have your name with a heart next to it." Jiyong squeaks in surprise. "You do?" he asks attentively, though trying to play it off. Seunghyun smirks. "Yeah," he sighs "It makes me wonder what my name in your phone is."
Jiyong, laying on the floor of his room as he talks to Seunghyun with a bag of shrimp crackers near him, pauses as he stares at his screen. 'My future husband' with probably a dozen heart emojis and then a single music note beams back at him. He stuffs some chips in his mouth. "Nothing important.."
Seunghyun laughs, head tilted slightly. "I'll let it slide," he smiles once he stops laughing. "But don't leave your phone near me." "Like sister like brother, huh?" Jiyong jokes, making the other snort. It goes quiet, but only for a moment. During this pocket of time Seunghyun thinks about Jiyong meeting his family. They may say they don't know much about him, but he sure knows his mother and sister like the back of his hand. Hye-yoon and Jiyongs personalities are similar, and would mix well together. Seunghyun didn't know Jiyongs rebellious and out-of-line phase that everyone murmers about personally, but the Jiyong he does know goes to class and gets complimentary grades, and thats what his mom values the most. And someone who loves him for who he is, as well as a polite person. He's sure Jiyong checks all of these boxes. His father? Ehh, he's not sure. Maybe someone who has a stable future ahead of them? "BRB, i'm going to the bathroom." He hears jiyong say, and he chuckles. "Who actually says B-R-B?" "People who are as cool and amazing as me." Jiyong says, getting quieter and quieter as he gets farther from his phone. Seunghyun shakes his head and goes back to thinking. Where was he? His father. Hmm...
SLAM.
His door bursts open.
“CAUGHT YOU!” Hye-yoon shouts with devilish delight, pointing like she just found Bigfoot. “JESUS CHRIST—” Seunghyun fumbles, nearly throwing his phone in the air before slamming it against his chest like it’s contraband. “What the hell!?” “Uh huh,” she saunters in, smug and determined. “‘I’m not talking to anyone’, huh? Please. You've been laughing like you're not the most nonchalant person on the planet. Is it Ji? Ji with a heart??” “I was just scrolling!” he stammers, cheeks heating up. “Like, memes!” Hye-yoon laughs, nearly doubling over. “You’re so in love it’s disgusting.”
“I’m not in love!” Seunghyun snapped, but the words felt flimsy even to him. “Is this who you were writing songs about in your rap journal?” she pressed, closing the distance between them and she leaned on his bed. “Do you send him pictures of your face now? Do you use those stupid filters with the dog ears? Oh my god, you do, don't you?”
“GET OUT!” he roared, grabbing a detailed, expensive, figure of a dragon from his nightstand and hurling it at her. “Stop being nosy, Hye'!" She dodged the plastic creature easily, letting it clatter harmlessly against the door behind her. Her smirk was triumphant, her eyes glinting with a mischievous sparkle. “Oh, I’m nosy,” she said, her voice a singsong tease. “I'm nosy and correct.” “You're nosy and you're salty,” Seunghyun exclaims with a glare. “I’m not talking to anyone!”
shuffle
"'M back. And now I'm gonna show you my outfit for tomorrow and you're gonna tell me if you like it or not."
The room falls dead silent.
Hye-yoon’s face slowly turns toward the screen, smile stretching across her face.
Seunghyuns prepared for the outburst this time.
"I FUCKING KNEW IT!!"
Hye-yoon whoops and hollers all around his bedroom, feelng victorious at last. Seunghyun truthfully has no more shits to give. "I blew it, didn't I?" Jiyong murmurs, and Seunghyun lifts his phone up to his face as he begrudgingly watches Hye-yoon prance around, a smirk twitching on his lips. "Nah, it blew up about forty minutes ago." Jiyong responds with a giggle.
“Can I come to the wedding!?” Hye-yoon teases, finally deciding shes tortured her brother enough for the evening as she walks towards the door. Seunghyun lets out the loudest groan known to man. "Do pigs fly?" he deadpans. His sister snickers before finally going back to her own room. Seunghyun rakes a hand through his hair in relief before getting out of his bed. "Hey, i'm about to play something, okay?" "Sure, what is it?" Jiyong asks, and requests to facetime simultaneously. When Seunghyun answers, he sees him close to the screen, his legs in the air behind him and his mouth moving from chewing on something. "It's Outkast, Speakerboxxx/The Love Below." Jiyong hums. "Yeah, I know that album, but just haven't listened to it."
"Yeah, me neither, but I swung by Vinyl & Plastic today, and when i listened to it i brought it to the register twenty minutes into it." Jiyong giggles. "That good, huh? Okay, then—play it." Seungyun obliges, blowing the vinyl fresh out of the album jacket, and placing it on his turntable. He fast fowards to the song that made him stop in his tracks as he stood in the back of the record shop.
'I hope that you're the one
If not you are the prototype
We'll tiptoe to the sun
And do thangs I know you like
I think I'm in love again
I think I'm in love again
Today must be my lucky day baby
You are the prototype
Do somethin' out of the ordinary
Like catch a matinee baby
You are the prototype
I think
I think I'm in love again
I think I'm in love again'
The song is beautiful, practically the embodiment of everything Seunghyun has been feeling. It's raw and sincere, loving and goofy, infatuation and hope. By the time the vinyl stops spinning, that song being the last on the side and needing to be flipped to continue, the facetime is silent. Jiyong moved his face out of the camera, so Seunghyun has no idea his reaction. "That was...A great song. Adding to my playlist now." Jiyong laughs, and it's both airy and heavy. "It is, right?" Seunghyun agrees, and theres more on the tip of his tongue that he wants to say; so he does.
"It reminded me of...you." ahhh, he should've left that part out. Jiyong doesn't say anything for a while, and his pauses almost every time Seunghyun says something is driving the older one crazy. "...Me too." and that's all Seunghyun wanted to hear.
Monday...
The bathroom door finally creaks open.
A gust of humid air escapes into the hallway, trailing with Jiyong’s perfume, which is warm vanilla layered over toasted pistachio, a scent so rich Dami literally coughs mid sigh. She blinks the cloud away and instinctively opens her mouth to bark something sarcastic, but it dies immediately on her tongue, because Jiyong walks past her like he’s stepping off the pages of a fashion editorial.
There’s nothing necessarily flashy about the outfit; just sleek high waisted shorts cinched with a clean, minimal belt and an oversized hoodie that falls effortlessly over his slim frame. The hoodie, which now looking back she never recalls him buying, has got a distinct masculine scent underneath his perfume. Something cool, Musky, earthy, and maybe bittersweet? Whatever, just not his. His hair's soft and glossy, styled to frame his face like he’d been groomed by angels. His eyeliner is tight and clean, his lips are glossy and plump, and his skin? glowing.
Damis mouth hangs slightly open.
Her brother looks stupidly pretty.
Like, unfairly pretty.
Like, prettier than her.
"Sorry for hogging the bathroom, sis," he tosses over his shoulder with a cheeky grin. The apology has slipped out his mouth about a dozen times now, almost like deja vu. Dami stares, then finally mutters, “If you were sorry, you would’ve stopped.”
She slams the door and stares at herself in the mirror, her own hair a mess, toothpaste dotting her chin. She has an interview in half an hour. “Unreal,” she grumbles. At least she got her new car not too long ago and doesn’t have to take the bus anywhere.
And then it hits her,
Jiyong doesn’t ride the bus anymore. He walks. But the question is—
Why!?
Seunghyun leans near the school gate, a crisp jersey peeking under a fitted jacket, silver rings catching sunlight. Students glance over as they walk by. Some steal second glances, others whisper, but all eyes flick toward the entrance when Jiyong walks up the path, looking as if 'school air' doesn't exist.
Seunghyun straightens. His face lights up.
“There’s my favorite person.” he greets, and says it like it’s the only truth that matters. Before Jiyong can even react, Seunghyun slings an arm across his shoulders, pulling him in close. His fingers skim the back of Jiyong’s neck like it’s second nature. Jiyong just leans in, softly and helplessly, because what else is he supposed to do when this actual statue of a man touches him like that? They’re still not official, still haven’t talked on their label nor have they kissed, but it’s just basic information that they both are a thing. The only people who seem to outwardly have a problem with it (because everybody really does. They all wanted Seunghyun and now he’s interested in someone and guess what? It isn’t any of them.) are Jennie and Soo-hyuk, so neither are in much of a rush
The walk through the front doors is slow and golden. Like something out of a movie. Heads turn, but they don’t even notice. Jiyong’s just focused on how warm Seunghyun is. How his cologne is mixing with his own perfume like some spell. Everything has been pretty great, but Jiyong doesn’t know how much longer he can take it. Every time Seunghyun looks at him the more he wants to kiss him. And let’s not forget that Jiyong is a teenager with HORMONES. He’s ready to just rip Seunghyuns clothes off in a janitors closet, he swears. But no. He will have restraint. He will wait for the right moment. He will will.
“You look so pretty today. Especially in my hoodie.” When Seunghyun says that Jiyongs chocolate brown eyes dilate and swirl with a darkness of intensity, and when the taller mans smile brings his dimples out, Jiyong feels two and a half feet away from an AI model, because he’s too perfect! Jiyong looks like an idiot, looking up at the man so close to him with his mouth slightly open and face probably beet red. He scrambles with his words and hears Seunghyun chuckle, completely expecting that reaction. “Asshole.” Jiyong murmurs as he hitches his backpack back up. A soft smile lingers though.
Jennie watches from the lockers, dragging her mascara wand through already perfect lashes verbatim to how she does every day. She keeps quite as Jiyong and Seunghyun walk pass. "Nothing to say today?" Rosé asks skeptically. Jennie just laughs. "I just realized there's no point in stressing over the topic of the week. I give it a few more days, and things'll be back to normal." her friends all share glances, and Jennie rolls her eyes. "Ugh, hello? It's like everyone’s forgotten who Kwon Jiyong really is. He may have started the school year differently, but it's only a matter of time before hes back smoking cigarettes in between periods and vandalizing the school courtyard!" she reasons, patience running thin as Rosé, Jisoo, even Lisa, continue to look at her like shes crazy. "Just watch." She spits, walking away. The girls watch her departure. "I swear she's been more cutthroat lately." Rosé finally speaks up, turning to face the other two. Jisoo nods, "Yeah, you're right." she agrees. "I guess she's just upset that Jiyong has been more popular that her recently.." "You can't even blame her though" Lisa then adds. "I mean, Jennie has spent a lot of time building her reputation to be the queen of the school. Jiyong was literally and outcast a few months ago." "Okay? but now can we think about this? Jennie is trying to demolish him just so she'll be at the top. that's not cool." Rosé counters, standing on her opinion. "Okay, we'll you weren't so against it when her popularity got you elected prom queen." Rosé gasps. "Let's just-" "Or when no one wanted to go to your house party until Jennie said she was going." Lisa smirked. Rosé's brows furrow as she scoffs. "Gee, Lis', is that your name or are you just Jennie #2." "Oh how clever, Rosé!"
"I wasn't trying to be, it's just the truth." "You know the whole reason why Jennie said we should all individualize ourselves was so you wouldn't be associated with us?" Lisa exclaims, her outburst grasping the attention of all in the hallway. Her breathing is ragged, and her eyes are almost delirious. "Yeah, she said that you were such a bitch that sometimes she'd rather date Kai again than withhold a conversation with a snobby whore like you." She laughs, dry and vicious. The words clearly hurt to an extent, yet Rosé just sniffs, blinks, and turns her back. "Just as I thought." Lisa scoffs, spinning of her heel herself and walking the other direction. Jisoo stands there, feeling utterly useless. "What happened to us?" she murmurs to herself as she dips into the bathroom, away from all the eyes. Ever since they all got into highschool, things have changed. Popularity is a scary thing, because it can consume you. It can make you turn your back on the people closest to you, and not care about nothing else in the world. It can turn you into everything, the same way it can turn you into nothing.
What a scary thing, Jisoo thinks through glassy eyes. She almost doesn't blame her friends.
Hours later, after school ends, Seunghyun and Jiyong linger.
Their feet crunch on the sidewalk in lazy rhythm, long shadows stretching ahead as the sky dips into shades of orange and pink. School ended half an hour ago, but they’re still only a few blocks out of its vicinity.
Jiyong tosses his bag from one shoulder to the other. “Did you see Jennie’s face when I answered the math question before her?” Seunghyun snorts, head tilted toward him. “She looked like she was about to file a lawsuit.” “I know!” Jiyong laughs, nudging him with his shoulder. “I wasn’t even trying to be smart, I just actually knew the answer. Which, trust me, is a first.” “You’re naturally gifted,” Seunghyun says so casually that it throws Jiyong off for a second. “talented brain inside that pretty little head of yours.”
“Okay relax,” Jiyong says, smiling despite himself. “You don’t gotta say it like that.” his head dips low. Seunghyun gives him a mock-innocent look, dimples flashing. “Say it like what?” he teases and Jiyong just rolls his eyes, suppressing the grin tugging at his lip. They stop by a small corner store, and Seunghyun runs in for a cold drink, tossing a peace sign over his shoulder. Jiyong waits outside, sitting on the curb, twirling his phone in his hand. The messages from his dad asking where he is stays unopened. When Seunghyun returns, he tosses a grape flavored beverage the others way. Jiyong barely catches it.
“For the math genius,” he says smugly.
“I hate grape.”
Seunghyun blinks. “...You do?”
“No,” Jiyong smirks as he cracks it open. “I just wanted to see your face.” Seunghyun chuckles, pushing his hair back. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” Jiyong pretends to sip and says, “Good.” As the sun starts to disappear behind rooftops, the streetlights flicker to life one by one. Their shadows fall longer now, golden melting into violet-blue.
“Be honest,” Jiyong says. “Who’s your favorite teacher?”
“Ms. Park.”
Jiyong makes a face. “You like calculus?” “No,” Seunghyun answers. “But she always gives me candy when I show up on time.”
“I wonder who's gonna be the one to tell you it's just because you're you.” “You think I don't know that?” Seunghyun grins. "I can't help that they're the cards I was delt with. Being Choi Seunghyun is hard, you know?" Seunghyun huffs dramatically. Jiyong giggles and tilts his head. "Yeah? What is it then?" he asks amused, and Seunghyun pauses just for effect. Finally, he groans out "Exhaustingg" and the two break out into fits of laughter. Jiyong blushes, punching him lightly in the arm. “You are such a pain!”
“That's what she said.”
"What are you even talking about!?"
A few streets behind, Dami is walking with her friend when something… odd catches her attention. "Okay, final question: Lee Min-Ho or So Yi-Jong?" her friend asks, tone serious. “Wait,” she says, narrowing her eyes. “Hold on a second.”
She squints ahead—It's Jiyong.
With someone.
A guy?
A guy who definitely was not Daesung.
She barely registers her friend saying, “Wait where are you going—” before she peels off the sidewalk and ducks behind a hedge, following them at a safe distance. She can’t make out the guys face, only that he’s tall, broad-shouldered, with an immaculate jawline, and wearing something oversized. She watches them stop a few blocks down, her heart pounding.
Who the hell is that?
Now only two blocks from Jiyongs place, the two boys slow their pace. The sky is dusky now, with everything soft, still, and quiet. “I guess I’ll walk the rest alone..” Jiyong says, yet neither move.
Seunghyun scratches his neck, then looks at the sky. “Yeah.” Silence. They just stand there, both of them in this weird limbo of not wanting to leave. Jiyong swings his arms. “I’ll..call you when I get home, okay?” Seunghyun nods. “And you better answer,” Jiyong adds, pointing a playful finger at him.
But Seunghyun still doesn’t respond. He steps closer, then gently grabs Jiyongs wrist, and, without saying a word, brings it to his lips. He kisses it softly. Once. Twice. Three times.
Jiyongs breath catches. suddenly, his sass vanishes. Bravado? Gone. Dissipated. He’s barely even functioning.
When Seunghyun lets go, they’re already too close. Jiyong’s looking up. Seunghyun’s looking down. Jiyong feels too scared to even breathe, and Seunghyun feels as though if he even blinks the moment will be ruined.
The space between them is narrowing.
One breath, two.
A lean.
And then—
A sharp rustle in the bushes.
“AHHH!” Jiyong squeaks, flinching so hard he nearly stumbles. They both freeze, blinking at the source of the noise like deer. All that's given in return is silence.
“Probably just a raccoon,” Seunghyun says, suddenly weirdly stiff. “Haha. Ha.”
“Y-yeah,” Jiyong says, equally awkward. “Totally.”
A beat.
Then they both look at each other. Really look at each other. Both wide-eyed, flushed, and utterly shaken.
“…Bye,” Seunghyun says, backing up too fast and immediately smacks his head into a stop sign.
Jiyong covers his mouth. “Oh my god—” This can't be real.
“I’m good! Totally good.” Seunghyun says, now walking backwards and waving before turning, muttering “stupid, stupid, stupid” under his breath.
Jiyong bounces on his heels and smiles up at the night sky. He downs the rest of his soda, tilting his hard far back is if it was a shot of tequila that would burn his throat and distract him from the hundreds of fire ants dancing around his cheeks.
And then with the eaves-dropper...
Dami’s mouth is open. She stares at her brother. At this mysterious boy with perfect hair and a voice like rich velvet whos walking away.
Who is this?
What just happened?
And how the hell is he doing this to her brother!?
She narrows her eyes. That’s it. She’s getting to the bottom of this.
Tonight.
Notes:
Alright now! Probably the last chapter for today, more coming out tomorrow! Drop a comment, I love to read them! I need to know if ‘you like!?’ It!
Chapter 9: hyeongjekan gyeongjaengsim
Summary:
Titles should translate to ‘Sibling Rivalry’
Notes:
Let’s get Jiyongs family outing over with. His dad is NOT happy.
Chapter Text
Unbeknownst, Jiyong practically skips back home, with his heart thudding like a drum, his lungs full of laughter, and the memory of Seunghyuns kisses on his wrist still tingling on his skin. Then there's the inevitable 'what-ifs' of what would happen if him and Seunghyun weren't disturbed. There's a weird itch on Jiyongs lips that he can't seem to relieve. Unfortunately, he knows the remedy, and unfortunately, he's not with him right now.
“Hi, honey!” his mom calls from the couch once he enters the house. “Hey!” Jiyong replies, voice higher than usual, trying to contain his excitement. He zooms up the stairs, skipping the last three like he’s weightless. He bursts into his room, shuts the door, locks it, and throws himself onto his bed. Then grabs his pillow and screams into it. And then laughs. And then he flops onto his back, kicking his legs like a giddy child. He’s literally rolling around. His hair's a mess, and his heart is racing, yet he just couldn't have a care in the world. "There's no way that actually happened." Jiyong whispers to himself, body still buzzing. He all but snatches his phone when it lights up from the notification of Seunghyun.
Tabi (With a dozen heart emojis and a single music note lol): Made it home safe. Yk, with a bump on the back of my head.
Ji (With a heart): Kekekekeke. Was it worth it?
Tabi: Always. You're the only person i wouldn't mind walking with instead of driving.
Ji: Oh i just know that's a really big honor you're trying to downplay. appreciated nonetheless <3
Tabi: That deserves to be left on read yet i can't bring myself to do it.
Ji: Idc suc it up bc i wanna talk about our almost kiss.
Tabi: ahhhh yes hide behind a screen. Ji i can just about see you kicking your feet. If you're really feeling bold ask me that same question in person.
Ji: Okay, I will. i'm really not the coward you think I am, Tabi.
Tabi: It'll be determined tomorrow then.
Ji: What will be my reward for proving you wrong?
Tabi: Also determined tomorrow.
Jiyong: I'll wear my extra-glossy lip balm tomorrow just to be on the safe side.
Jiyong squeals into his pillow after sending the last message, rolling onto his back too. Great. Now he'll have trouble sleeping tonight cause of thoughts of tomorrow and possibly kissing Seunghyun for real. Oh my gosh, Jiyong literally can not wait. Will there be tongue? Does Seunghyun kiss sloppily? Probably not. Will he ask before kissing Jiyong, or just lean in an seal their lips? He’s seconds away from FaceTiming him to ask over the impression that he's joking when—
BANG.
The door swings wide open.
“CAUGHT YOU!”
Dami storms in, hands on her hips, a fire in her eyes. Jiyong shrieks. “WHAT THE FUCK DAMI!?” he swears she doesn't usually barge in this much, but Jiyong swears again that she just forgot about the concept of privacy out of nowhere. He flips his phone over like a guilty teenager caught watching something he shouldn’t be, which honestly isn't too far from the truth.
“You thought I wouldn’t find out?!” she hisses, crossing her arms. Jiyong bolts upright. “Find out what!?” he asks, as if there wasn't one thing he was really hiding from her. “Don’t play dumb!” Dami points at him dramatically. “Who’s the guy you were walking with today?” Fuck..—What the fuck? How the fuck?
“…What guy?”
“Is THIS why you’ve been taking forever in the bathroom every morning?” She yells, completely disregarding Jiyongs question. “I always take forever—” “Is THIS why you don’t take the bus anymore!?” “Oh my God.” Jiyong hadn't been expecting anyone to be connecting the dots, let alone Dami. “Is THIS why you don’t talk to me as much anymore?!”
That last one stops Jiyong in his tracks. Dami’s voice cracks and arms drop. “You don’t talk to me anymore, Ji. At first I didn't really care, but you're hardly ever home and...Dads getting suspicious that whatever you're doing may be bad, and it got me thinking...Jiyong, the guy isn't a negative influence, right?” Jiyong stares bankly, as if he doesn't know the answer is Hell no; Seunghyun is actually one of the best influences ever, next to Daesung. Then he pauses.
“Wait…” he frowns. “Did you follow me?”
Dami stammers. “I—I didn’t mean to! I just—when I saw you walking with some guy, I had to know!” “Jesus Christ, Dami—what the hell!?” he shouts, now actually frustrated. “You could’ve just asked me like, you know, a normal person!”
“I did! Just now! Five seconds ago!”
Jiyong stares at the wall, grumbling. “Maybe mind your business next time.” “Are you serious right now?” Dami yells exasperatedly. “I just poured my heart out and you’re yelling at me about the least important part?! So what if I followed you?! I’d do it a hundred times over if it meant I’d understand why I see my friends more than I see my brother!”
Jiyong groans, grabbing a pillow and dragging it over his face. There's no way she calls that pouring her heart out.
“You’re being so overdramatic—” “How is me saying i miss your annoying ass presence overdramatic, idiot?!” Dami blurts incredulously. “I miss the dumb movies, and the way you used to tell me secrets before bed, and how we used to pick outfits for each other! I was trying to spend as much time as i could with you before you..Graduated. And i went back to college.”
“You could've just said that!” he snaps back. "This could have all been avoided if you just hadn't acted like a bit—“ Jiyong stops himself, cause there's that silent little agreement that calling someone who is not CL or BOM a bitch is deemed highly disrespectful. There's silence.
“...I’m telling mom and dad,” Dami threatens, voice smaller this time. Jiyong jerks upright.
“You. Wouldn’t. Dare.” She lifts her chin.
“Watch me,” She sucks in a deep breath, like shes not years older than him, and explodes.
“MOM—!”
“OH HELL NO—” Jiyong lunges, pillow in hand, and smothers her mid-shout. He presses the pillow down with his whole body weight, any protests by her turned to a muffled scream as he pins her against the carpet, but she's not giving up without a fight.
Her elbow hits his rib, and Jiyong yelps in surprise as a sharp pain shoots through his side. Damis nails scratch his arm. Making Jiyong pull back and wince at the red marks left by her retaliatory strike. Now he’s really angry.
They roll on the carpet like children in a WWE cage match. Dami scrambles to get a better position, trying to flip Jiyong over, but he’s faster. He wraps his arms around her waist and tries to hold her still, their legs tangled together.
"Why couldn't you just mind your own business!?" Jiyong pants.
"Because that “business” was about to you kiss some guy with broad shoulders under a street lamp!?"
"How is that a bad thing!?" They roll over.
"I don't know who he is, you've got to be hiding him for a reason, he's probably been making you sneak out the house to go wherever, and you're lying for him by saying you're hanging with Daesung instead of him! Highlight the word him, Ji!"
"How about you highlight the pile of fucking assumptions. Also, I'm not sixteen. If I were doing bad things with Seunghyun, which I'm not, it would be by my own will." He finally lets go of her and she sits up, pushing him away. She gets to her feet and brushes the lint off her sweats, her expression serious and frustrated.
She huffs, "You're seventeen, Ji. Literally only a year older."
“It’s a year and a half. So shut it, brat!” Jiyong scoffs and turns his back on her, fully intending retreating into his bed and throwing his blanket over himself.
“Says the one picking a boy over family!”
“I’m not picking anyone!” He stops dead in his tracks, his shoulders tense. This whole situation is just so stupid to Jiyong. The argument felt unnecessary; what happened to communication? This could have all been avoided. The siblings stare at each other, one’s eyes shooting daggers and the other droopy in exasperation.
“PICKING WHO OVER WHO?”
They freeze.
Their mom and dad stand in the hallway like twin Greek statues of disappointment.
“Uhhh…” Jiyong mutters. They say nothing.
Just look.
The glare Jiyong now shoots at Dami is lethal.
Dami… almost says nothing. Almost.
But then she thinks of Jiyong not being the only other person in the house awake late at night, giving them plenty of time to create hilarious memories of tip-toeing around and running when one makes a loud noise, or of how when she goes back to college and comes back to visit, he won’t be first at the door pretending to not be happy of her return, and of all the inside jokes she may no longer be a part of.
So she opens her mouth.
“I saw Jiyong walking with his boyfriend!”
The gasp, which in Jiyongs perspective was highly not needed, that leaves their moms mouth could shatter glass.
“HE’S NOT MY BOYFRIEND,” Jiyong tries to clear the air out, stomping his foot like a toddler and growling. “Dami, I swear to God I am going to—“ “Do not say that to your sister, Kwon Jiyong!” their mom snaps.
Then their fathers tone turns sharp. “Is this true? Why didn’t you say anything? Is he a delinquent? Is that why you’ve been hiding him?”
Jiyong drops his head into his hands. “No.” Why is everyone thinking the worst of this?
Their dad checks his watch.
“It’s late, and Jiyong you have school tomorrow. But trust me, we will discuss this tomorrow after dinner.”
“Come on, Dami,” their mom says, pulling her daughter away.
Dami hesitates, glancing once more at her brother. He’s sitting on the floor now, with a face she can describe as guilt and shame. Pillow still in hand. Eyes distant. She almost feels bad. Almost.
As the door clicks shut behind them, Jiyong stays frozen.
Then, there’s the strongest urge ever to just wreck his entire fucking room. Truth be told, Kwon Jiyong has a bad ass temper, but he’s been doing pretty good with it. He wants to throw it all out the window so bad. Achingly bad. Jiyong claws at his face to distract himself from the impulses. He instead goes to text Seunghyun, but then his door opens.
”And give me your phone.”
Jiyongs eye twitches like a madman, and when the door closed again the noise is like a trigger. Jiyong explodes.
Minutes later, Jiyong lays in the middle of his room, cheats heaving.
Everything’s a mess.
His shelf full of his collection of plushies are scattered across, his other shelf full of face products and perfumes were swept off, all falling to the floor in symphony. He punches pillows, he throws pillows, he suffocates himself a little bit with them too, and he kicks his walls repeatedly just so his parents hear and know he’s having a meltdown. Because that at least sounds better than a temper tantrum, which is exactly was Jiyong is enduring. He found an old hammer under his nightstand, and he quite literally had to creak his door open and leave it right outside his bedroom, because if he hadn’t he would’ve swung it at his window.
It feels worth it. His anger is now just simmering, and there’s a beauty in destruction that makes Jiyong feel weird to admit. Maybe it reflects how unorganized of a person Jiyong is, or maybe he just likes unpredictability. Whatever it is, it’s soothing at the moment. In fact, Jiyongs eyes start feeling a little heavy. It’s not like he can scroll through social media until he falls asleep, so Jiyong closes his eyes. Then he wonders if Seunghyun is calling or texting him right now. It’s extremely unorthodox for Jiyong to not be answering him, so hopefully the other will put two and two together. He opens an eye slightly to stare at the headphones on his nightstand. One of the few things not caught in the Jiyong tornado. After staring at it for a few moments, not exactly having any thoughts about it, he pulls the blanket from his bed, a pillow already near him on the floor, and gets comfy.
Later, maybe even a few hours, because his room looks darker than before, Jiyongs consciousness returns as he groggily wakes up. There’s a soft glow over his head, and as he rubs his eyes and turns around, he sees it’s coming from those headphones. Surprised, he shuffles over to his nightstand, feeling around with his hands for anything in his way since there’s a bunch of things on his floor at the moment. Once Jiyong is in front of the headphones, he picks it up and places it softly on his head. The volume isn’t high, it’s perfect, like Seunghyun knew Jiyongs ears would be sensitive from just waking up.
‘I miss you, I miss you
I miss you so much that I hate myself
I want to cry down on my knees
If only this can be something that never happened’
It’s Miss you by Kim Bum-soo, and Jiyong knows this because when it first came out Dami used to cry to it in the shower after she broke up with her boyfriend at the time. Jiyongs crying, slightly, to it too, but for an entirely different reason. He’s not sure why, maybe because it’s just…Thoughful. Jiyong supposes he doesn’t get that a lot, or maybe he does, and he just doesn’t care because its not from Seunghyun. Regardless, it turns his heart into putty and his body fuzzy, and when he lays back down, headphones now on his head, there’s a lingering smile on his face not even getting outed by his sister, phone confiscated by his dad, or having to clean your room up the next day after purposely fucking it up, could make him stop.
Chapter 10: You can make a memory out of anything
Notes:
A know homophobia is kind of internalized in Korea and things like that, but here it doesn’t exist! For the most part. So yeah. Enjoy!
Mom’s touch (맘스터치) is a popular fast food chain in Korea
Chapter Text
There’s an air of quiet hostility in the Kwon household that morning.
Jiyong stands at the bathroom sink, staring at his reflection like it personally offended him. His hair is fluffy and perfect, eyeliners razor sharp. But the rest? Disaster. You wanna know why?
Because he’s wearing sweatpants. Grey sweatpants.
And a matching sweatshirt that covers every ounce of skin he fought hard to make look supple and expensive. He tugs the hem up with a sigh. Jiyong will crop this shit once he’s out of sight. His father’s voice still rings in his head from earlier.
“Those shorts? No. I know what you do when you leave the house. You yank them up like you’re on a runway. Not today.” Because somehow he just woke up and became aware of his tricks. And that still isn’t the worst part.
He’s back on the bus. The bus.
Jiyongs fashion looks neutral (which even then is bleh), but his aura is blackened. Even his perfume smells pissed off. That rich sweet-vanilla blend is now giving ‘don’t talk to me unless you wanna cry.’
When he enters the kitchen, Dami’s already halfway through a bowl of cereal. He doesn’t say a word, just eats his jeon like it’s war rations, glares at his tea that he knows his mom made with love, then storms out before she can even clear her throat. “Jiyong—” Dami starts, but he already beats her to it.
“Save it,” he mutters, yanking the front door open. “Where are you going?” their dad calls out as he emerges from his personal office with a folder in hand. “Down the block.”
“And who’s walking you?” Jiyongs leg hurts from trying not to stomp his foot from agitation.
“Dami.”
“And why are you walking down the block?”
Through gritted teeth, with a twitching eye, Jiyong growls, “Because it’s where the bus stop is. And I have to take the bus to school now.” “Atta boy,” their dad says, flipping the paper.
Dami stands beside her brother with her lips pressed shut once they leave the house. Jiyong’s arms are crossed, Seunghyuns headphones on but nothing playing at the moment. His eyebrows are furrowed, and his face has the emotional warmth of a concrete wall.
She tries once, just once, to say something. Again. “Are you happy?” Jiyong asks. His voice is soft. Sarcastic. Laced with venom. Dami looks down at her shoes, which are different colored sandals because she’s running right back into the house, and Jiyong death-glares everyone who looks at him, because it’s been forever since he’s been at their bus stop. “How are you older than me and act so immature all the time?” Jiyong then whispers, maybe rhetorically, maybe actually asking. Dami doesn’t even try to open her mouth to answer, and not too long after the bus pulls up. Her and Jiyong watch as everyone else boards first, and her brother grips his backpack straps like he’s trying to drawl out the moment. What’s his hate with busses?
Finally Jiyong takes the first step, but not before casting Dami a glance. Maybe it’s a goodbye, maybe it’s joy (at not seeing her again for a few hours), maybe neither and something else entirely different. All these maybes makes Dami’s head hurt and her heart sink, because she knows Jiyong. She usually knows what he’s thinking, because she usually thinks the same, and they both end up looking at each other with a glint of understanding. She also usually knows his next move, when he’s not being a rebellious teenager, and what she doesn’t expect is him to turn and start walking down the street.
Dami stammers, and she gaped at the bus driver, who stares back with a pissed off look, and closes the doors and starts driving. Right past Jiyong. Should Dami tell her father when she gets back home? That Jiyong in fact did not get on the bus? She looks back down at her crazy sandals, and decides maybe she doesn’t have to head home straight away. She’s sure the closest cafe is not going to double back on her crazy shoe choice.
So Jiyong goes right, and Dami goes left.
Seunghyun and him and Jiyongs usual group of friends are already at their silently agreed spot. He’s leaned against the wall, long limbs relaxed, fresh white sneaks on, and dimples showing under the rising sun. Beside him is Seungri, and standing around is CL, Bom, Taeyang, Daesung, and Youngbae.
Daesung cringes when he sees Jiyong walk—stomp on school grounds.
“Uh oh,” he says. “Jiyong’s in a bad mood.”
The others follow his gaze as Jiyong descends like a cloud of wrath. He’s got a death march, a bitchy pout, and eyes like knives. Taeyang whistles. “Yeah. He’s pissed.” But he sports an amused grin, as if he knows what comes with it. “I think his aura just made me get pissed off.” Seungri mumbles. CL steps forward, mischievous smirk.. “Hey, Ji—”
“I hate my fucking sister.”
CL’s widen in surprise. Out of all the shit that’s left Jiyongs mouth, she’s never heard that one before. She’d call Jiyong and Dami close, siblings who get along relatively well. Especially during his heinous period, where Jiyong would say the most cruel things to Dami while CL was over the phone, and in the next hour or so, she would wander back into his room without a trace of the earlier venom between them. She’d plop down on his bed, flip through his songbook, hum along to whatever track was looping on his speakers, or simply chatter about something he pretended not to care about. Jiyong, no matter how rude, disrespectful, and irritating he acted, Dami lingered. She kept his secrets, defended him at the dinner table when their dad would double down on him, and was literally just the epitome of a great sister.
If anything, her persistence softened the jagged edges of Jiyong the bad child.
And another thing; Dami was the ‘better child’. It was never spoken out loud, but just basic knowledge. If you were a parent would you rather your child that decided to go to college, with good grades throughout their entire academic life, who had their disobedient phases but they were never overzealous, who listened? Or!—your son who snuck out the house every night, didn’t try to cover it up, got caught every time they took an alcohol test, crashed a car, cursed in front of you as if you were their equal, and just paraded around like a hellspawn? Right. But, like CL said, this was surprising.
Everyone blinks at Jiyong.
“Oh…kay,” Bom mutters. It’s rare for her to be taken aback. Jiyong then unleashes; He rants .
“So now?” Jiyong starts, voice rising, “I only get thirty minutes in the bathroom. THIRTY. I can’t wear shorts anymore, my dad banned them. Why? Because he knows I hike them up after I leave the house. And guess what else?”
They lean in.
“I can’t walk to school anymore. I have to take that bitch-ass bus!”
He flings his hand toward the yellow demon behind them like it insulted his ancestors. “But of course I didn’t,” he scoffs. “I turned my ass right around and walked.”
“Oh my God,” CL whispers.
“And I the whole thing is Dami’s fault. She followed me, like—“ he spasms, “Like some mini detective! If my parents hadn’t barged into my room last night, I swear, I would’ve punched her right in her—” What follows is an unholy string of mumbles, growls, and incoherent obscenities. His friends stand frozen like zoo patrons watching a tiger in meltdown. As he continues to in-depth explain how he’s going to sabotage the next seven years of his sisters future, they all back away slowly. All except Seunghyun, who just does the opposite. Always different from the rest.
He waits, letting Jiyong finish huffing.
Then, calm as ever, he smirks and moves closer. “Well, if it makes you feel better, you still look pretty upset. ”
Jiyong glares.
Seunghyun lifts a brow. Okay. Gotta go harder.
He leans in, voice dropping an octave.
“And for the record, I don’t care what you wear… as long as I know what’s under it.” he winks just for extra measure.
Jiyong tries so hard not to laugh.
He fails.
A snort escapes. He shakes his head, biting his lip and turning the other way to look at a patch of grass. “You’re such a fucking asshole.”
“But I’m your asshole.” Seunghyun wiggles his eyebrows dramatically. “Unfortunately,” Jiyong mutters, but his mood visibly lifts. His voice is lighter. More teasing. It dips back down a little. “I’m just so freaking annoyed,” he huffs. “Like, I hate when my family try to get all in my business. So what if I don’t tell you every single thing going on.” He rambles, and Seunghyun listens. Not exactly agreeing, but understanding. Maybe it’s because Seunghyun mother is always expressing her affections about him, but he knows why parents want to know everything about their kids. As for the hating when they try to? Yeah, definitely irritating.
Seunghyun grabs his hand and gives it a squeeze. “I get what you’re saying, same thing kinda happened to me.” Seunghyun chuckles and looks away the same moment Jiyong looks at him. “You just gotta..give them time, I guess.” He shrugs, and the two pause.
“You’re gonna need to drop that attitude anyway. Mr. Kyo-hwan is giving a pop quiz today.” The shorter man whips his head toward him. “How do you know that?”
“Sources.” Seunghyun chortles
“Don’t make me bite you.”
Seunghyun grins. “I wish you would.”
Jiyong stares at him. “You’re disgusting.”
“And yet…”
There’s a silence. Jiyong blinks and cocks his head. “Who’s to say you’re not just gonna give me the answers?” he bats his lashes dramatically. “Oh, I am,” Seunghyun says with mock pride. “But you better get at least one wrong or else he’ll know.”
Jiyong hums. “Fine. I’ll mess up number eight.” Seunghyun chuckles. “That’s romance.”
The group exhales from a distance, finally free to approach as Jiyong visibly melts beside Seunghyun. Their conversation turns casual. Taeyang asks Bom about homework, CL still watches Jiyong like she’s documenting this moment for anthropology, and Daesung just leans close to Seungri to whisper, “They’re so gone.” “Imagine.” Seungri says in disgust, because he could never think of a healthy, consensual, relationship where both parties respect and love each other.
Jiyong is still a little annoyed, of course. His sweatpants are still hideous. His crop job of his sweatshirt was not his cleanest work. But when Seunghyun looks at him like that, suddenly the school hall feels warmer. Even warmer than you would in grey sweats.
The roar of the crowd at the soccer game after school was a physical force, a tidal wave of sound that Seunghyun rode with practiced ease. His cleats dug into the turf, a familiar, reassuring grip as he weaved through the opposing team's defense. The ball was like an extension of his body, a weightless sphere that obeyed his every command. His face was of an intense focus, with his jaw set and eyes narrowed. Sweat beaded on his temples, but it was a small price to pay for the feeling of pure, unadulterated speed. He blew past two defenders, their attempts to steal the ball from him as clumsy and futile as a toddler's grab.
In the bleachers, Jiyong was a coiled spring of anxious energy. His knees bounced a steady, frantic rhythm against the metal bench. His hands, clasped tightly under his chin, were a silent prayer. He watched Seunghyun move with a mix of awe and anxiety, every near-miss and every flawless play sending a jolt through his body. He’d seen him score a dozen times, but the thrill never faded. Neither did his pride.
A whistle blew, and the game paused for a moment. Seunghyun, breathing heavily, wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. His gaze swept over the crowd, a quick, almost unconscious search. And then he found him. Tucked away in the upper bleachers, a single figure in a grey hoodie, eyes glued to the field. Seunghyun's gaze locked with Jiyong's across the field, the distance between them dissolving in an instant. Jiyong's lips, already parted in breathless anticipation, curled into the tiniest smirk. He subtly lifted two fingers, a small peace sign that was as much a secret language as it was a gesture. I see you.
Seunghyun's lips twitched into a genuine, unguarded grin. The noise of the crowd, the pressure of the game—it all fell away. This was just for them. For a brief, stolen moment, it was just the two of them on the field, a silent exchange that spoke volumes. The whistle shrieked, and the game was on again. Seunghyun’s foot connected with the ball, and it was a clean, powerful strike that sent it soaring into the back of the net. Goal!
Jiyong leaped to his feet, a guttural cheer erupting from his throat that was louder than everyone around him. His phone, buzzing with notifications in his pocket from who he knows is his father, became a forgotten distraction. All that mattered was Seunghyun, standing in the center of the field with his arms raised in triumph.
The final whistle blew, and the team swarmed Seunghyun, a whirlwind of high-fives and triumphant shouts. They’d won. Again.
In the midst of the celebration, the coach clasps a hand on Seunghyuns shoulder, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’ve been on fire lately, Choi. What’s gotten into you?” Seunghyun, still flushed with victory, didn't miss a beat. He turned, his gaze sweeping over the crowd of fans and families of the players gathered on the sidelines, and his finger came to a decisive stop, pointing directly at Jiyong.
The coach followed his finger. He saw a boy in a cropped grey sweatshirt, the soft hair of teal-ish-blue and pink peeking out from under his hoodie, his lips slightly parted in surprise, and a blush creeping up his neck.
Jiyong froze, his eyes widening like a deer caught in headlights. He looked from Seunghyun to the coach and back again, his cheeks growing even pinker.
The coach’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. He gave a single, firm nod. "Ah," he said, a quiet understanding dawning in his eyes. "That'll do it."
It’s later now, and the sun’s barely hanging on. 6:38. They’re behind the building, tucked away under a tree with the breeze whispering through the leaves. Jiyong’s curled into Seunghyun’s side like he’s trying to become part of him: Arms wrapped around Seunghyun’s torso, his head in the crook of Seunghyun’s neck, inhaling. Deeply. Desperately.
Seunghyun just lets him.
“You okay?” he asks quietly. Jiyong nods, nose brushing his collarbone. “Just… don’t wanna go home yet.”
“I figured.” Seunghyun presses a soft kiss to his hair. “Stay with me for a bit.” The other looks up. “Stay with you and do what?” Seunghyun shrugs. “Get in my car and find out,” rolls off his tongue casually. Jiyong follows after him like he’s put under a trance.
Seunghyun slides into the driver’s seat, ready to start the car. And then—flop. Jiyong drops himself right into Seunghyun’s lap.
“Jesus—!”
He freezes, eyes wide. Jiyong’s small hand reaches for the steering wheel lazily, gripping it like he’s the one about to drive.
Seunghyun blinks. “What are you doing?”
“Just reminding you that I am, in fact, bold in person too.” Jiyong grins. eyes fluttering shut like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “It’s still not a kiss.” “Are you seriously finding a way to complain while I’m sitting in your lap?” Seunghyun snorts in response.
“…You’re so weird.”
“Yeah. But you like it.”
Seunghyun shakes his head with a chuckle. He lets his hands rest on Jiyong’s hips, steadying them both.
“…Wanna get food?”
“Yes.” Jiyong peeks open one eye. “Mom’s Touch?”
“You read my mind.”
It’s the most run-down Mom’s Touch in probably the city.
Fluorescent lights flickering. Workers look like they’d rather commit tax fraud than flip another burger. The AC hums with misery.
But to them?
It’s their spot tonight.
They sit at a booth tucked in the corner, elbows on the table, knees brushing.
Jiyong scrolls through his phone for a second, jaw tightening at the swarm of messages from his parents, Dami, and even his dad’s work phone.
He closes his eyes, places his phone screen-down, and stares directly into Seunghyun’s eyes like they’re his only safe place.
“You look like a cute little tabby cat.”
Seunghyun groans dramatically, tossing his head back. “Stopppp. My family’s been calling me that since I was, like, two. Jiyong giggles, full and bright. “Well, it suits you.” Seunghyun tilts his head. “You calling me soft?” The other shakes his head. “I’m calling you adorable.” “You sure handsome isn’t the word? Sexy? Hot?” The dimpled man goaded, and Jiyong eyes just trailed over his face amusingly. All of those adjectives were perfect ways to describe him, but…Jiyong just likes being difficult. He shakes his head mock-sympathetically before breathing in through his teeth.
“Afraid not,” he says, trying his hardest not to laugh. Seunghyun gapes and crosses his arms, leaning into the booth more. “Well ‘adorable’ definitely isn’t it. I mean, just look at me—“ he bares his teeth and narrows his eyes, and Jiyong does nothing but laugh in his face. “—And would I be adorable if I did this?” Then the taller man crosses one eye, and the other covers his face as he continues to crack up. He slaps Seunghyuns arms, almost like a peace treaty, a surrender, and then does Seunghyun join in with a light chuckle.
”Oh my gosh—what is wrong with you?” Jiyong forces out, covering his mouth still, though the crescent-shape of his eyes tell it all. Seunghyun reaches over and pulls his hand down. “What is adorable is your laughter. And your smile.” Jiyong licks his lips bashfully and looks down to his hands that are now in his lap. “Yours isn’t.” He tries to bark back, but it comes out more like a squeak. Seunghyun tries to hide his grin, failing entirely. “You’re lucky you’re pretty.”
“And you’re to even be here with me. I’m hard to catch. Y’know, busy schedule.” Jiyong lies profusely. The other snorts, unconvinced. “I’m sorry, but were you not the one wrapped around me like if you let go I would disappear, like twenty-five minutes ago?” Jiyong quickly counters. “No. It was cold and you had body heat.” He reasons, shrugging casually. “It was simple human instinct.” “I don’t think human instinct included the pleading eyes you gave me so I’d stay with you a little longer.” Jiyong punches his arm. “Shut up!” He’s blushing like a mad-man. Like, where is the food!? “No need to get defensive, Ji’. You know I’d break my neck to even spend an extra minute with you, any day.”
He doesn’t say it jokingly. Not this time. The words fall between them without armor, without the cushion of a joke, and it lands differently. Soft and true. For a second Jiyong feels as if the ground has tilted, the weight of the moment pressing in while somehow making him feel lighter all at once. It’s a little terrifying, having someone speak so plainly, without the usual shield of banter he relies on with most conversations with others. His breath hitches. They hold each others eyes for a second too long, suspended in a silence that feels louder than any debate or laugh they’ve ever shared.
And then—
“Number twenty-one!”
They both jump.
They’ve got spicy chicken bites, mochi, two cheeseburgers, and a chocolate milkshake between them. Jiyong’s curled up in the booth, legs tucked under him, hoodie slightly off his shoulder now. Seunghyun’s holding the milkshake while Jiyong dips his burger in a sauce, then pops it in his mouth.
“…You still mad about the outfit?” Seunghyun asks between bites.
“Yes,” Jiyong mutters. “These sweatpants?—“ he accentuates his point by pinching them, “—are a crime.” Seunghyun swallows his bite. “You’re literally the only person who could pull them off.”
Jiyong smirks, then reaches over and takes a sip from the milkshake in Seunghyun’s hand, purposely not using the second straw. Seunghyun raises a brow. “No straw for you?” Jiyong licks the top of the cup lid. “Nah. I like yours.” Seunghyun just smiles. “You’re unreal.” Jiyong kicks his foot under the table softly with his own leg..
For a moment, it’s not about school, or family drama, or hiding who they are. It’s just Jiyong and Seunghyun.
One milkshake. Two hearts.
”What did you expect from senior year?” Jiyong asks, sipping on Seunghyuns milkshake again after asking. “Definitely not this.” He answers charismatically, and easy smile playing on his lips. Jiyong bites his own.
“And what is…This?”
The taller man pauses, looking up from a mochi that was sticking to his fingers. There’s a pause. “I..Don’t know. What do you want it to be?” Seunghyuns using his words very carefully and planned. Is he supposed to ask him out right now? At seven, pushing eight at night? At a restaurant definitely not the best he could have taken him? He’s kind of freaking out, and now he feels full in a negative way. “Well, I want you to be my boyfriend, and I’ll be yours. Easy as that, okay?” “Okay.” Seunghyun confirms quickly, heart beating rapidly. Seunghyuns never had a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. Or a crush.
Jiyong goes back to eating, Casually. Normally. As if he didn’t just explode his boyfriends entire nervous system. “Does this mean I can see my contact name now?” Seunghyun asks through a mouth full of his milkshake that he slid back towards him, needing something cold. Jiyong laughs, but doesn’t say anything else. Seunghyun doesn’t think he needed anything else, if he’s being honest. This moment is all too perfect regardless.
The drive to Jiyongs house is quiet, but comfortable. There’s small talk, but for the most part the two just let the radio play quietly. Seunghyuns pretty tired from his game, Jiyongs just a peace; feeling fulfilled for the day. He’s also trying to stay in the moment, the moment of laughter, joy, and contentment. The moment before he’s in the midst of an interrogation, upset parents, and a punishment that’ll probably be his phone being confiscated. Time just decides to go by too quick for his liking, because suddenly the car stops and Jiyong looks out the window to see him a few doors down from his house.
“It’s pretty cold tonight, I don’t want you walking blocks just to get home.” Despite the ache in Jiyongs chest at him having to leave this absolute dream, he smirks. “Yeah? Well, tonight I would’ve been okay.” The other catches on. “With those sweatpants and what I can’t even call a sweatshirt because you cropped it?” He tilts his head, and Jiyong pretends to turn around and grab the door handle to leave. “I’m just kidding!” Seunghyun bursts out in an attempt to keep him here, but Jiyong just doubles back on the center console, fluffy hair protecting his head from the solid surface. Seunghyun leans over him, and to the others vision his upside down. “You look silly from this angle.” Jiyong confesses. Seunghyuns eyebrow twitches.
”You sure not adorable?” Jiyong groans and lifts himself back forward before hopping out the car. Seunghyun rolls the passenger’s side window down, and Jiyong leans into it. “Bye.” Seunghyun says, and like always it sounds hollow. Jiyong does even say it this time, but does cup Seunghyuns checks and tilts thin to kiss one side. It’s like the moment freezes, because it feels like forever for Seunghyun in a positive way. Jiyongs lips are soft and plush, exactly how he expected them to be, and when the other retracted he felt the lingering glossy lip balm on his cheek. Jiyongs hands teetered on the window opening of the car, and he bit his lip as he tried not to think about what he just did.
“I’ll call you tonight.” Jiyong promised, though it may fall short depending on how tonight goes. Does he even care how it goes anymore? Seunghyun nodded. “Okay, see you soon.” And with that Jiyong got to walking, the chilling breeze appreciated.
He’s not even fully in the house before he feels it.
That atmosphere.
Thick. Heavy. Silent.
His eyes lift, and yup. There they are.
His whole family, seated at the dinner table like it’s some mafia boss meeting or something. His dads sitting at the head, arms folded. His mom’s stiffly slurping up onmyeon. And Dami? Looking at him as if she’s warning him. Like this wasn’t all her fault. It was just enough to make his blood boil.
But what really sets him off?
His dad’s eyes are already narrowed, zeroed in on Jiyong’s cropped hoodie, and the sliver of bare skin showing his belly button that comes with it.
“Hey, Da—” Jiyong starts, trying to play it cool. “Sit. Now.”
Wince.
Yeah, alright. Jiyong shuts his mouth and does exactly that, plopping down into the chair farthest away from Dami on pure petty instinct. He keeps his eyes low, lips pressed together. The plate in front of him has warm food. But his stomach? Nauseous.
“You’re not hungry, Ji?” his mom asks gently, watching him stare at his untouched plate. A devilish grin threatens to rise on his lips, and Jiyong shrugs with forced nonchalance. He will always be the retaliatory child.
“Already ate,” he says with the fakest innocence in the world. Clink.
As expected, his dad sets his fork down. Hard. The clatter echoes.
“Is that why you’re hours late? It’s 8 o’clock, Jiyong. School ends at 3.” His voice is low and dangerous now. “And not only that, you didn’t replied to anyone’s messages or phone calls.” His mother adds. “Do you know how worried we were, naui boseok?”
“You have exactly one minute and thirty seconds to tell me what you’ve been doing.” His father says, a starling contrast to his moms soft route. Jiyong opens his mouth to reply—
“You know what he’s been up to, Dad,” Dami mutters under her breath. “I’m sorry, why are you talking right now?” Jiyong barks automatically, not even sparing her a glance. Because, really? Do you feel bad or not?
“ENOUGH!” his mom snaps, sharp and loud enough to stop all talking cold. The tension vibrates in the air. She turns to Jiyong again, more calm this time.
“Jiyong. We know you’ve been talking to someone.”
His heart skips despite himself. He swallows. “I kind of was there when you found out.” He mutters, not caring if he digs himself deeper or not. He just can’t hold his tongue.
“Now I don’t want to control your life or say you can’t be with him. But we’d like to know who he is. What’s his name? What’s he like? Is he…a good influence?” She shoots her husband a look before he can interject.
“You still live under our roof,” his dad grumbles anyway. Sadly, Jiyong thinks.
Jiyong exhales and slouches into his chair a little. He pokes at the edge of his plate with a single chopstick, unconsciously going again dinner table etiquette. Might as well just do it.
“His name’s Seunghyun,” he mumbles, pushing the against his plate with more pressure, like it’s a stress ball. “We’re the same age. He… walks me home sometimes. Or drives.”
He can feel Dami’s stare and flicks his eyes toward her, just for a second. She’s waiting to say something. “So he has a car. Does that mean he works?” his mom asks curiously.
“No. His family’s, like, well off or something.” He grumbles in response. They don’t really talk about their families to each other, for whatever reason. His dad’s brows lift at that.
“Hmm,” he says, unreadable. The tone makes Jiyong want to fold into himself. “But we both like music. Same taste too.” Their son then chimes in.
That gets a little sparkle in his mom’s eyes. “Really? Like who? That Kane South?” You gotta be kidding him.
“Kanye West, Mom,” he says, fighting a smile. “And yeah. Him. Also Fabolous and Outkast and… stuff.”
“Any hobbies?”
“He plays soccer,” Jiyong says, voice a little prouder now. “Really well, too. That’s where I was today. At one of his games.” He unbeknownstly sits straighter. “Soccer,” his dad hums. “Athletic. Hmm.”
Jiyong’s shoulders lift slightly. “Yeah. And he’s really good. You should’ve seen it—he did this cool thing where he launched the ball in the air, spun around, and kicked it with his heel straight into the goal.” His eyes light up as he talks. He’s just about to say ‘And then after we..’ before quickly stopping himself. Instead Jiyong bites his lip.
“…It was cool, okay.” There’s a flicker of silence. “Can we see pictures?” Dami pipes up, breaking it.
“Absolutely not,” Jiyong says instantly, turning sharply toward her. “Oh, c’mon, Hyung! It’s not like he’s ugly!”
“And how would you even know? When you were on your Sherlock Holmes shit, it was too dark to see his face.” Jiyong narrows his eyes suspiciously. He’s got PTSD from Seunghyuns sister, Hye-yoon, going through his phone and finding out about him. There’s no way though she would have guessed that his password is 1104.
Dami snorts. “Regardless. Even his silhouette was hot.”
Jiyong groans and rolls his eyes. “No pictures. Not tonight.” His mom raises an eyebrow. “Anymore questions?”
“Yeah,” his dad says, leaning forward. “How’re his grades?” “Straight A’s,” Jiyong blurts. His chair screeches as he stands. “Okay, that’s enough questioning. I’m gonna go—”
“Wait,” his mom says.
Jiyong halts mid-step at the base of the stairs.
“Do you really like this boy, Ji?” His heart freezes.
What a loaded question.
His hand tightens around the railing, and he doesn’t look back. Doesn’t move for a few seconds.
His mouth opens, but the words don’t come. So instead, he blurts the first excuse that’ll work,
“Oh crap! I have an assignment due in two hours.”
And he bolts.
Once upstairs he closes the door and slumps down against it. His heart’s still beating like a drum.
He runs a hand through his cotton-candypink and blue hair, then mutters to himself, “Why the hell did I say ‘assignment’? What assignment!?”
He laughs softly, rubbing at his face and then dragging himself up toward his bed. That dinner felt like a goddamn press conference. He feels exposed, like every one of his feelings has been picked through, examined, and judged. But the worst part? He does like Seunghyun. A lot. Maybe more than he’s ever liked anything in his life. Except music.
And that; more than the grounding, the rules, the awkward dinner, is what really scares him.
He sinks into his bed, grabs his phone, which he’s extremely surprised to have, and opens his texts.
And there he is. The first notification.
Jiyong smiles and presses the call button.
Chapter 11: There, in fact, was funny business.
Notes:
Gang I just wrote 6,000 something words in a day and a half I may be cooked (it doesn’t count because I have the whole plot finished I just have to to write it)
This is by far my favorite chapter, building plot points are finally coming together. I can’t wait for you guys to see what else happens.
As always, my VIPS, my Blinks, my whoever’s, I love yall. Thank you for reading. Drop a comment.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Jiyong walked into school with the bounce of a boy who slept 8 hours, drank water, and got a flirty “good morning” text from the man of his dreams. He felt invincible, like the main character of a romantic comedy where all bad things were just nonexistent, and life was nothing except positive moments.
As he glided down the hallway, he saw Jennie leaning against her locker, a fortress of falsity. She was the one person whose gaze could usually chip away at his mood, but today it was just another part of the scenery. She threw her usual look his way; her eyebrows up, eyes narrowed, and lips pursed. It was a silent judgment that said, "What are you so happy about?" Jiyong was unbothered. He met her stare and returned a smile so fake it could hold a candle against her own. It was a smile that didn't reach his eyes but was perfectly, meticulously crafted. He even skipped a little in the hallway, a little hop that made his backpack sway.
He grinned at Daesung once he arrived to his locker, who was fumbling with his locker combo, and clasped his hand on his shoulder. “There’s my favorite person!” Jiyong greets cheerfully. “I think I’ve been dethroned of that title.” Daesung tries to play off as a joke, but Jiyong instantly knows the other means it. His smile falters. “Dae’, you do know you’re my literal best friend, right? Nothing can take our memories away.” “I know. But, like…I didn’t really get to see you all summer break, and now that schools started up we can never hang out because you already have plans with Seunghyun.” Daesung explains, and the pout on his face is loathed by Jiyong. It just doesn’t look right on his face; Daesung is always happy, always positive and radiating good energy. To see him frown is almost like seeing Lee Byung-hun laugh jubilantly.
“Dae,” Jiyong says, softer and more serious. “I get what you’re saying, and over the summer I’ve had to sadly gain accountability, so yeah—I haven’t been the best friend.” He looks to the ground. Dami felt this way too, he vaguely thinks. “I guess I’ve just gotten all caught up in this thing with me and Seunghyun. It was just new, and I suppose I’ve kind of neglected all the people around me because of it.” “Yeah. You have.” Daesung agrees, and it sounds a little bitter. The man winces after saying it though, as if he felt as though he came off wrong. Jiyong can’t help the quiet chuckle then slips out, because Daesung is always putting others feelings before his own. “I swear I’ll fix it.” he promises, and the twinkle that returns to the others eyes warms his heart. “No offense Ji, but your kind of notorious for breaking promises.” Jiyong snorts, because he’s not wrong. “Well I mean it this time.”
Daesung beamed, and it was in the familiar way that infected everyone around him. Jiyong smiled back.
Rounding the corner was CL, who walked over to them with her killer outfit. Her face was just as homicidal as she confronted the two. “Hey, CL.”
“Fuck you.” She glared, crossing her arms. Jiyong froze, because CLs happy, mad, and annoyed face were all pretty much the same. Was she joking? Or was she for real? “Uh, fuck you too—?” “No, like actually fuck you.” She repeated, then suddenly her whole demeanor changed. “You didn’t answer my call last night, oppa!” She whined, stomping her foot and about a level away from a hissy fit. Jiyong and Daesung shared a glance. “I needed to know if you watched the new Coffee Prince episode!! Go Eun-Chan—“ “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Jiyong ordered, expression dead-serious, though CLs morphed into skepticism. “But you usually watch every new episode religiously.” She pointed out. Jiyong smirked. “Well if you really must know, I was out with Seunghyun.” And he felt a pang of guilt after saying it, knowing Daesung was right there.
CL gasped. “No. You guys went on a date!?” She was quickly shushed by Jiyong, who looked around afterwards. Everyone there was nosy, head deep in Jiyong and Seunghyuns business. And with Jennie lurking around? Everything needed to be confidential. “And also, no. It..It wasn’t a date. We just hung out.” He explained, maybe a little disappointedly. But then again, they weren’t even official until yesterday. “We went to mom’s touch, ate, and then I got dropped off home. That was it.” CL didn’t look convinced, and Daesung’s face stayed neutral. “Uh huh, yeah. And what did you guys do in the car? Swap tongues?” Jiyong squeaked at CLs bluntness. “N-No,” Why did you stutter!? Now you look suspicious. “We talked and listened to music. I swear.” He was practically pleading at this point to be believed.
“I said that too when Lee Dong-wook gave me a ride back from a party,” Bom interrupted, a smirk on her face and her stance radiating confidence. She stopped walking near the group. “Safe to say we did a lot more than that.” She giggled, and Both Daesung and CL joined in. Jiyong wasn’t as pleased. “Well we weren’t two teenagers drunk off their asses alone with no supervision. We talked and listened to music.” He repeated, more assertively. CL raised a brow. “So you guys didn’t do anything? No kiss, nothing?” He was tired of this conversation.
“I’m not denying it,” Jiyong replied, deciding to just settle with that. He locked his fingers behind his head and walking like the most unserious Disney prince to ever exist, an easy smile was plastered on his face as he made his departure.
The rest of the morning continued in a regular fashion. In history class, while Mr. Yoo-min droned on about the Miracle on the Han River, Jiyong found himself doodling hearts in the margins of his notes. Each one was a different shape, a different size, yet all of them were a small tribute to the text messages he kept sneaking a glance at. One from last night: “Counting the minutes until I see you tomorrow.” Another from this morning: “I hope you’re having a good morning, but I know you already are because you’re getting a text from T.O.P (You don’t know how much I have to like you to just swallow my embarrassment and text that)” He felt a little dizzy, like the world was spinning just for him. He couldn’t wait to see him and demand what or who made him late to school.
At lunch, he sat with his usual group. They were used to his moods, the highs and the lows, but this was a new level of unhinged happiness. “Like you can not convince me they didn’t kiss or something last night.” CL whispers to Taeyang after telling him about their conversation that morning. The man snorts and stuffs his mouth with kimchi. “Yeah, no. He’s for sure bullshitting.” “thank you!” She exclaims. “I can literally hear both of you guys, you know that?” Jiyong asks dryly, circling the rim of his soda can. Grape.
”You’ve known me long enough to know I really don’t care.” CL counters quickly, and Jiyong just sighs in response. Yeah, okay, cool. Where’s Seunghyun? He feels like he’s experiencing withdrawals or something, and it’s both welcomed and unbidden. CL groans. “Ugh, okay—enough. Seungri where is Seunghyun!?” “What makes you think I know!?”
Daesung, Bom, Taeyang, CL, and Jiyong all shoot him a look.
The man glares. “Principal Roi-ha’s office.” He grumbles. Jiyong perks up. “Why would he be there?” “Because he’s been trying to get TOP to tutor since, like, beginning of junior year. He says no every time.” Seungri answers, seemingly annoyed with the topic. “I bet if I wasn’t here though you guys wouldn’t be asking where I went…” the group goes quiet. “That’s not true..” Daesung assures, always the comforting one. “Ehh,” CL wobbles her head a little, eyes still on her phone as she’s typing something on it. “He’s not exactly wrong.” “Chaerin!” Daesung yells, while Bom completely laughs her ass off. “Not in a rude way!” She backtracks, facing up now. Taeyang looks back and forth as if he’s watching a tennis match.
Bom spares her a ‘you lyin’ look, trembling like she’s holding back another cackle. “You guys are nuts…” Jiyong mutters while shaking his head.
“Did you hear what I said, Jennie?” Jisoo asks, watching as her friend stares at Jiyongs table with pure, unadulterated jealousy. “No. Which is a sign that it wasn’t important enough.” She sneers, and Jisoos eyebrows furrow. Everything she says never matters to Jennie, and it’s so annoying. “Well..do you think I always want to hear you talk shit about Jiyong and Seunghyun?” She says quietly, meaning to say it stronger. She’s not used to standing up for herself, but there’s no way she’s going all her high school life being a pushover—because, yeah. That’s what she is. Someone could call out her name, spit on her families legacy, dog her out, and she’d do nothing. Jennie seems almost…surprised. “I’m sorry,” she laughs. “Are you going against me right now? Do you want me to put you in your place?” Rosé’s eyes narrow. “Hey, let’s not go there.” “Shut it.” Jennie commands.
”I’m not your fucking dog.” Rosé growls, her simmering annoyance toppling over. “Well you’re sure barking like one, bitch. How about you sit there and be quiet, because you know you’re nothing without me. None of you are.” Jennie says, venom oozing out her tone. Lisa frowns. “Why do you think you can talk to us any way? Because everyone knows your name? Well there’s a difference between knowing your name and knowing you.”
That hits deeper for Jennie than any bullet ever could. “Ex—Excuse me?” She rises out of her seat. People start to look. Something takes over Jisoo, because she stands up too. “Yeah, I said it. And you’re mad because it’s true. Jennie, name a word that describes you that isn’t about your social status and looks. Go ahead.” The other freezes, and now many spectators are intrigued. “Huh. Look at little Jisoo, standing up for herself” Jiyong says to himself as he watches the display, also happy that someone is standing up to Jennie. “I—…uh,” The dark-haired egomaniac stammers. The eyes are on her. She has the spotlight. The spotlight that she craves, she yearns, she needs. But this time it doesn’t feel good. This time it makes a shudder run up her spine and something crawl under her skin. She clutches herself. Are they looking at the strand of hair out of place? The small clump of mascara that she overapplies to almost conceal her eyes, which are a window to her insecure soul? She turns around.
”What? Fuck are you all looking at? You guys are absolute nobodies. Background characters, filler-ins, wastes of oxygen!” She shrieks, and her voice from the otherwise silent cafeteria bounces off the walls. Right back to her. “Jennie..” Lisa goes to say, extending her hand out. Jennie flinches, and the others eyes widen. “I was just—“ “Shut up. Fine. I get it. You all hate me—“ Rosé goes to interrupt, “We never said that—“ “That’s okay! Don’t ask for nothing from me. No car rides, no mentions on social media, nothing.” She laughs hollowly; emptily. “We’ll see how long you guys last.” And with that she walks out, though her head isn’t held high. It’s anxious, timid. Jiyongs table watches. “I think we just watched the fall of Jennie.” Taeyang gapes.
Jennie passes by Seunghyun as he enters the cafeteria, with tears brimming her eyes and her steps hurried. He would have genuinely asked if she was okay but she practically ran. He’s sure he’ll figure out the cause soon. Once the confusion pasts, he walks over to his table. “What’d I miss?” He says, sitting next to Jiyong. His boyfriend scoffs, trying to play off his happiness. “You can’t come and sit and act like you haven’t been nonexistent the whole school day.” Jiyong complains, staring at Seunghyun with a face of dissatisfaction. “Chill, it wasn’t my fault.” “We know, Seunghyun. Jiyongs just trying to pretend like he wasn’t on the verge of crying without you.” Daesung smirks, and CL cackles. “Good one, Oppa. But seriously, he quite literally was acting depressed” she deadpanned. Jiyong felt his face heat up.
“That so?” Seunghyun asks, amusement evident. “No! It’s very much not.” Jiyong puffs his cheeks. “Who’re you gonna believe? These dweebs or me? Aka the one who shared his milkshake with you last night.” Seunghyun chuckled. “Jiyong, you know that milkshake was mi—“ “Okay, so you believe me? Great.” He finalizes, taking a sip of his grape soda. Once it leaves his lips Seunghyun takes it from his hands, swallowing a big gulp. “Hey! You didn’t pay for that!” “I’m just returning the favor.” “Uh, uhn. I don’t care.” And with that Jiyong snatched the can back and placed it on the table side opposite to Seunghyun, who looks astonished. “Wow, Ji. It’s like that? Bet.” He nods his head slowly, like he’s understanding something. “It’s not like anything!” Jiyongs becoming flustered, and he watches CL rub her temples. “It’s like I’m watching My sassy girl all over again.” She groans. Bom looks like she’s doing nothing but enjoying the display.
“I guess I’ll remember that for tonight.” Seunghyun whispers, only loud enough for Jiyong to hear. “What do you mean?” He asks, both interested and skeptical. Seunghyun grins, leaning closer to him. “I mean when I take you out tonight—for real this time.” Jiyongs mind goes blank. “Like…A date?” The other nods. “Yeah, at an actually nice place. That is if you can find a way out the house.” “Well, my whole family kind of knows about you now. Maybe if he sees that you’re not a grunge-punk delinquent who sells dopamine when the sunsets he’ll be fine with me seeing you.”
”Bet. See you at eight.” They face each other. “See you at eight.” Jiyong parrots. Afterwards, they look at each other, saying nothing else. “Bom, we have got to step it up.” CL says, and Bom nods before thinking and shaking her head. “Nah, you’ve got Christian. Me and Dara will go out.” She smirks, entirely ready for CL to go off on her for insinuating anything about her and that boy. The bell rings.
Jiyong stands at the edge of the living room, gripped backpack hanging off one shoulder, chewing on his bottom lip. His whole family is in the room, with his mom on the couch, probably on a shopping site to put things in her cart that she will never wear, and his dad in his armchair, reading the paper. Dami’s on the rug, painting her nails an obnoxiously bright pink.
“…So I won’t be home tonight,” Jiyong blurts out, trying to test the waters.
His mom glances up. “Excuse me?”
“I mean, not all night. Just…I have plans. Tonight. With…” He bites his lip harder. “With Seunghyun.” Silence. The name suddenly feels foreign on his tongue “Oh,” his dad says, still not looking up. His paper rustles. “Like a study group?” Jiyong laughs nervously. Of course not, dad! “Uh. No. Like… a hang out.” Everyone looks up now.
His dad folds his paper. Dami pauses mid-stroke. His mom just blinks, slowly looking upwards. “A date?” Dami rephrases. Jiyongs eye twitches. “Well, you don’t really have to put it that way—“
“With him? That boy you like?” his mom asks. Jiyong swallows. “Uh,” he prolongs. “Yes. With Seunghyun. My… friend.” He stresses the word friend but the undertone says ‘love of my life’. “I mean. You’re allowed,” his mom says slowly, “But we’d like to meet him.” “I knew it,” Jiyong groans, looking up like his soul left his body.
“You’re not just hopping into a stranger’s car, Ji,” his dad adds. “Especially not a boy we’ve never seen.” “But I just told you who he is!” Jiyong tried to reason. “Name, age, sport, and good hair don’t mean we know him.” Dami wants to say ‘and you could be lying’ but she knows her and Jiyong aren’t on the best of terms, and teasing right now isn’t exactly okay at the moment.
Jiyong breathes in dramatically. “Okay. Fine. He can meet you. But can I please wear what I want? Please? I will do dishes for a month! And i’ll go to Auntie Min’s party next week without complaining. I’ll let Dami play music in the bathroom loudly—even if it’s the Boys over Flowers soundtrack.”
Dami gasps. “That’s how I know you’re desperate.” His parents then exchange a look. “As long as it’s nothing inappropriate,” his mom sighs. “Yes!” Jiyong spins and sprints up the stairs like a madman. That went way better than he was expecting!
Jiyong now stands in front of a mirror, two pairs of shorts dangling from his fingers, and him frowning like he was deciding between life or death instead of denim and cotton. He held each one against his body, squinting, tilting his head, before finally scoffing and tossing one onto the floor. “Shorter is better,” he muttered, almost like a threat to himself. If he was going on his first official date with Seunghyun, he wasn’t about to play it safe.
He reached for Seunghyun’s jersey next, one that he was given not too long ago after he slyly commented that it had a nice color scheme, to which Seunghyun quickly offered it to him after. He slid it over his shoulders with a deliberate slowness, fingertips brushing along the fabric like it was silk instead of sweat-stained polyester. “Perfect,” he whispered to the mirror, tugging the hem down and admiring how it hung off him. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Now I smell like him. He’s gonna lose it.”
But that wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. The more skin, the better. Jiyong grabbed his jersey and a pair of scissors, trimming the bottom just enough to where it was cropped slightly. The mirror reflected bare skin now, peeking out beneath the jersey, right above the waistband of his shorts. He cocked a hip and gave himself a wink. “I hope he’s not taking me nowhere fancy..” he announced to himself, voice dripping with uncertainty. his chest buzzed with something more raw, more nervous.
He moved quickly after that, as if momentum alone would keep him from overthinking. His favorite basketball cap went on at a tilt, Converse double-laced in mismatched colors, small hoops glittering at his ears. A swipe of highlighter, a little lip balm just enough to catch the light but not so much that Seunghyun could call him “extra.” (Though he probably would anyway.)
And then the hair. God, the hair. Jiyong stared at it like it had personally insulted his ancestors. He combed, fluffed, curled, teased, flattened, and then fluffed again, battling each stubborn strand until his arms ached. By the time he finished, forty whole minutes had passed, and his reflection finally gave him back something he could tolerate. Soft curls, perfectly in place, framing his sharp features like a halo no angel could dream of pulling off, looked back at him. The sacrifice was necessary.
He stepped back, heart hammering against the jersey, and let the weight of it sink in. This wasn’t just some outfit. This wasn’t just some night. It was his first official date with Seunghyun, the boy who had been haunting his thoughts and pulling him closer without even trying. And now Jiyong was about to walk out there looking like temptation itself. He grinned at the mirror, biting back nerves with a flash of teeth. The adrenaline was taking its course already. About five minutes later, after spending the time making cute videos to post online, does a notification make his phone vibrate.
Text from Tabi (like a dozen heart emojis and a single music note):
Jiyongs eyes light up. He bolts.
He descends the stairs like a fashion week finale model. His dad glances up. “That’s… a lot of leg.” His mom squints and pushes her reading glasses up. “Those are shorts?”
Dami snorts. “You look like you’re going to a fashion show.” “Thank you,” Jiyong says flatly. His sister can’t believe how much he’s grown. “You know I’m sorry about…you know.” She finally fessed. “I would hope you are..” Jiyong replies, a little dryly. He’s trying to contain his good mood, and if the conversation goes sour so will he. “The way I reacted,” Dami chews on her cheek. “It was immature, yeah. But I don’t want you thinking it’s because I don’t want you talking to guys, or living your life, or whatever. I just…I don’t know, usually you’re the one apologizing to me, Hyung.” Jiyong snorts. “Yeah, for crashing your car or something.” They both laugh. “It’s cool though, Dami. And I guess since we’re saying sorry I’m sorry for that bruise that’s on your hip from my elbow because I know it’s there.”
Dami cackles and pulls her sweatpants down a little, showing the purple spot around her hip bone. “Yeah. You never told me you had a killer elbow.” She smirks. Her brother grins. “Never thought I’d have to use it against my own blood.”
HONK.
He perks up like a dog hearing a treat bag. “Okay, see you later—”
“Kwon Jiyong. Stop right there.”
Jiyong groans mid-step. His dad crosses his arms. “We want to meet the young man.” He slowly turns on his heel, now head down like a dog getting in trouble. “This is so humiliating.”
They follow him to the door, just in time to see a sleek black car pull up. The window rolls down,
and there he is; Choi Seunghyun.
His black hair was flawless. Silver chain peeking out of his shirt. One hand lazily resting on the wheel like he owns the road. Face? Straight out of a Vogue cover. Everyone freezes.
“You’re fucking joking…” Dami says, barely a whisper. Her jaws practically to the floor, and she can only conjure up one thought—I’d be sneaking out the house with him too.
No one even corrects her on her foul language. Because..for real. “Hello Mr. and Mrs. Kwon,” Seunghyun says with a small wave and a blinding smile when they walk towards the car. “You’re Seunghyun?” Mr. Kwon asks, a little skeptical.
“Yes sir. It’s really nice to meet you. You’ve raised an amazing kid.”
Jiyong covers his face in the background, moaning in suffering. Seunghyun is too charming, because his dad doesn’t even jump right into the ‘make sure my son stays safe’ bullcrap. “You’re very handsome,” Jiyong’s mom blurts before she can stop herself. “And respectful! It’s nice to meet you.” Seunghyun nods.
“We hear you play soccer?” Mr. Kwon adds. Jiyong watches, a little concerned at how well this is going. “Yes sir. Captain of the team. We’re the best in Seoul.”
Mr. Kwon lights up. “No kidding…” And then— “Why you in such a rush, Ji?” Dami says smugly. “Your boyfriend’s hot.” Aaaandddd she’s back to being annoying.
“First of all,” Jiyong says, flustered, “He’s not my—” He looks at everyone staring. “Actually, nevermind.” “Don’t worry,” Seunghyun says with a grin. “He calls me that all the time in private.” What is this? An ‘embarrass the fuck out of Jiyong’ party!? “BYE!” Jiyong yells, slamming the car door shut behind him. “Make sure he’s back before 10:35, and that he’s safe. No funny business.” Jiyongs dad states. Seunghyun nods firmly. “Of course not. I’ll bring him back on time.” And with that he rolls the window up. “Drive, Tabi, drive!!” Jiyong yells. Seunghyun hits the pedal. As the car approaches the end of the street, making its turn, the Kwon family stand completely stunned. “Okay so I wasn’t expecting that.” Dami says, deciding to be the first to speak up.
”I do feel better now. He seems like a good kid.” Their father says. “A good kid with a chiseled ass face. Did you see that jawline? Carved from the Gods.” Their mother snorts. “And he has very nice mannerisms.” “And a nice ass car!” “I feel like you’re trying to get all your curses out because we’re not worried about it right now!” Dami pauses. “Fuck no…” she says under her breath.
Jiyong sinks into the passenger seat like it’s swallowed him whole, legs crossed, arms folded tightly. His cheeks are still burning faintly from the ambush meet-and-greet with his family. He stares out the window, squinting into the navy hue of the night like it personally offended him.
Seunghyun, meanwhile, drives like he’s in an A24 coming-of-age film. One hand loose on the wheel, wrist draped casually, the other resting in his lap. His eyes stay on the road, but his smirk keeps drifting to the boy beside him. The car is quiet, except for the hum of tires and a song playing faintly in the background—A Tribe called Quest song with a beat like most of their discography that becomes ingrained in your brain easily.“You can stop smirking now,” Jiyong says, tracing lazy shapes on the window with his finger. A circle, triangle, and square. “It’s not cute.”
“That’s funny,” Seunghyun replies smoothly, eyes still forward. “Because I saw your sister mouthing ‘he’s so cute’ under her breath.” Jiyong groans like it physically hurt. “That’s literally the problem!” “What, that your family loves me?”
“No! That everyone loves you. You’re too, like, perfect or whatever.” “You sound mad about it,” Seunghyun teases, finally turning toward him with that soft-eyed, devastating smile, with his dimples all out.
“Don’t—” Jiyong warns, finger raised. “Don’t you dare smile like that. I knew you were gonna do it.” And then, bam. He does it again. Full, dimply smile. Silent laughter in his shoulders.
“Ugh, I hate you!” Jiyong cries, punching the seat and dramatically turning away again.
“Yeah, yeah,” Seunghyun replies, barely even phased. “Tell me that when you’re not stealing my clothes and posting thirst traps in my jersey.” Jiyong makes a noise somewhere between a gasp and a squeak, but he doesn’t deny it. “This place you’re taking me to better me nice.” He mumbles.
The restaurant is in fact nice. It’s warm-toned and dimly lit. The vibe is easy, with quiet jazz in the background. There were dark wood tables and soft pendant lights. Not overly expensive, but not basic either. Just… tastefully perfect. Seunghyun opens the door for Jiyong like a true gentleman and lets his hand rest on the small of his back just a second longer than needed. Jiyong feels his knees stutter, but recovers like a pro. Somehow.
They get a cozy corner booth. The waiter drops off water, menus, and gives them that ‘Aw, young love’ smile. “So tell me why your friend Seungri had on atrociously disgusting socks on today?” Seunghyun snorts, “He swears they boost his game performance. Says they’re his lucky socks.” He emphasizes with quotation marks.
“Lucky? He tripped over someones milk carton during second period.”
“Exactly. That’s why he needs luck.”
Jiyong can’t stop laughing. Not giggling, but full-on, head-thrown-back, laughing. His nose crinkles, and he clutches his chest while trying to breathe. “See,” Seunghyun says, “this is why I never talk around people. They don’t deserve my comedic genius.”
“Oh please,” Jiyong says, making a show of ending his string of laughter quickly. “Your comedic genius only works on me.” Seunghyun smirks. “Exactly. That’s how you know you’re special.” Jiyong pauses, cheeks pink. “No. Because I have a stupid humor.” the other doesn’t seem to buy it, and truthfully neither does Jiyong. He lowers his gaze to the table, twisting his straw wrapper between his fingers. “Have you been here before?” He then asks, grabbing one of the two menus and looking at the choices. It’s pretty versatile, with cheap options, expensive options, vast entrees and appetizers, and beverages. Seunghyun hums as he also grabs a menu. “Yeah, pretty frequently. It closes late and me and the team would come here a lot when our travel games would end towards midnight.” He explains, and Jiyong nods. “Cool,” he then smiles sheepishly. “I’m not good at ordering at new places, so I’m just gonna order whatever you do.”
”What are you, five?” Seunghyun snorts, and Jiyong scowls. He mock-covers a sob. “You know what? Okay, fine. I’ll order for myself.” He hides his face with the menu, pretending to be deep in reading the choices. Seunghyun beams, staring at Jiyong (or the menu that’s enveloping his face) like the world belongs in his hands. He looks at the jersey—his jersey, right around his torso and hiking up just a smidge. Then the ridge of his nose, how perfectly it slopes, and then his lips, how plush they seem to be. He’s felt them, just not where it matters most.
He shakes his head. If Seunghyun were to get carried away in his attraction, he’d act irrationally. “Make up your mind yet?” He asks, and Jiyong perks up. “Yeah. For sure.” His tone doesn’t sound too believable, but the latter doesn’t prod. At last the waitress returns, and the two say their meals. “Dakkgalbi.” Jiyong orders the minute “What can I get for you?” falls off her tongue, and he blinks when she does nothing more but nod. Seunghyun covers his mouth and tries not to lock eyes with Jiyong from across the table. He can feel the daggers being pointed his way. “Samgyetang” he then says, and the waitress takes their menus, bows, before leaving. “Look who’s feeling fancy.” Jiyong teases. “Well, someone has to act appropriately.” Seunghyun quickly counters, and the cotton-candy haired man gasps.
”Are you insulting my outfit choice? I’ll have you know I practically froze my ass off in your car on the way here, just so I could look nice for you.” Seunghyun looks him up and down. “Well, you look good alright—I mean, great.” Jiyong grins approvingly. He’s learning. Their food comes not too long after. They eat slowly. Jiyong makes fun of the way Seunghyuns face morphs after he burns his tongue. Seunghyun retaliates by describing Jiyong’s laugh as “the sound of a cello if it hadn’t been tuned in thirty years, and was pitched way too high”
But between the jokes and nipping, compliments slipped out.
“I think I’m gonna dye by hair again. Maybe light brown. Maybe green,” Jiyong scoffs. “Maybe fucking blonde.”
“I like you’re hair right now, though,” Seunghyun confesses, a small pout playing on his lips. “It brings out your eyes, and I never have to look too hard for you.” “Because I’m the only person dumb and gay enough to dye my hair pink and blue?” Jiyong cocks his head to the side. Seunghyun gives a pained expression. “Mmm, I was thinking more like bold, but sure.” The other blinks incredulously. “You’re not supposed to just let me say that, Tabi!” He can’t even find himself being mad for too long, a laugh slipping out. So much for learning. “Oh! Uh, no, Ji’, you’re not dumb. Or…gay?” He can’t hold it in, dropping his head down to cover his gasps of cackles. His shoulders shake irreverently, and maybe a couple or two looks his way, but he doesn’t care.
a little later, after Jiyong asks nicely for dessert, they fight over the last hotteok. “I’m the one who asked for it, so I should get it!” “Well uh, I don’t really care, Ji’. Because I’m paying!” Jiyong huffs. “What a gentleman. Fine. Take it.” “Wait, no, you take it!” “How are you gonna fight for it, and then not want it when I let you?” “I don’t know!?” Seunghyun slides the plate over, and Jiyong takes it, begrudgingly taking a bite and softening at the sweet cinnamon filling. “Thank you.” He says, flat and meek. “Don’t sweat it,” Seunghyun responds, checking the time. 9:27. “Let’s start getting ready to go after you finish.” He adds, slipping his cellphone in his pocket and watching as the other nods and continue to munch. “‘Too pretty for your own good..” he mumbles, more too himself, and more supposed to be just a thought. Pink dusts Jiyongs cheek, and he practically stuffs the rest of the sweet pancake in his mouth. “Finished.” He says, vowels muffled.
Their laughter echoes faintly behind them as they exit the restaurant, Seunghyun holding the door open like how he did when they entered. The sky’s darker now, but still warm and lit faintly by street lamps plus the ambient glow of nearby shops. They don’t rush. Just walk. Side by side. Close enough that their hands brush, but don’t yet intertwine. “I think that food might have beaten Mom’s touch.”
Seunghyun chuckles under his breath, then shifts one hand into his pocket and uses the other to casually, confidently wrap around Jiyong’s shoulder, pulling him in. Like it’s nothing. Like he’s done it a hundred times before. He kind of has.
There’s a slight breeze. Nothing cold, really. But it is when you’re Jiyong wearing shorts that cut around your upper thighs and a thin jersey than doesn’t cover much. Seunghyun murmurs, “Chilly?” Jiyong looks at him sideways, raising a brow. “Uh huh. Real convenient, Romeo.”
“Shut up,” Seunghyun grins, tightening his arm just a little. They walk like that to the car, parked on the far side of the lot. It’s mostly empty now, and quiet, with just the gentle hum of a distant highway and some crickets in the background. Jiyong reaches the passenger side, hand going for the door with a satisfied smile on his face..
But—slam.
The door closes back. Hard.
Jiyong blinks and turns.
Seunghyun is right there.
Pressed against him, hand braced beside his head. He’s so close that Jiyong backs up instinctively until his back hits the car. His heart pounds. His eyes are somewhat consumed by something strong and charged.
“Uh—” Jiyong tries, his voice hitching just slightly. “Is something wrong?” He feels a warm hand slip around his waist, fingers pressing lightly into the exposed skin where his jersey meets those tiny shorts. Seunghyun’s face is unreadable but his eyes are molten. “I just don’t think I’ve really taken the time,” Seunghyun murmurs, voice low and thick, “to show you how much I think you’re pretty.” Jiyong resorts to a small giggle. “Seunghyun, all you’ve done is—“
Jiyong doesn’t even get the chance to fully respond. There’s no should we kiss? or is this okay?—just mouth to mouth. The kind of crashing movement that’s been simmering for a while.
Lips connect. Breathless. Urgent.
Jiyong makes a tiny, shocked noise that dies in Seunghyun’s mouth, and suddenly hands are everywhere. On his hips, up his sides, around his neck. Seunghyun lifts him without a second thought and settles his back on the door of the passenger side like he weighs nothing. Jiyong wraps his legs around him instinctively, clinging like a lifeline. The kiss deepens, and it’s messy in the best way, from weeks of pining, of “not yet.” of “should we?” all exploding in one instant. Seunghyun murmurs between kisses, lips trailing from mouth to jaw to neck. “These shorts…” kiss “These thighs…” squeeze “This jersey—my jersey…” tug “You’re mine, you know that, right?”
Jiyong whimpers and nods. It’s all he can conjure up, feeling overstimulated with emotions and sensations. And it’s not like he can use his mouth anyways. He’s breathless and his mind is spinning. Seunghyuns a concerningly good kisser for someone who’s ’never dated’, and he somehow knows every spot on Jiyongs neck that’s sensitive and tender. The lick he gives is a pleasant surprise from Jiyongs otherwise hell-hot body, and he lets out and involuntarily shudder. “Seunghyun…” he breathes out, biting his lip as the other bites around his collarbone, porcelain skin now damaged and branded. Now he’s going to have to hide that from his dad.
Eventually, reality creeps in. The time. The setting. Their… hormones. They slowly, reluctantly pull apart. Both are dazed. Faces flushed. Hair a little mussed. Jiyong tugs his shorts down in a half-hearted attempt at decency, mind you still being held up, and Seunghyun presses a soft and embarrassed kiss to his temple before helping him down. His eyes don’t meet Jiyongs, and he opens the door himself and gets in. His lips feel swollen and the minimal seconds it takes for Seunghyun to wrap around the vehicle to the other side he spends absolutely freaking the fuck out.
The energy in the car is wildly different now. No more playful ease. No teasing. Just tension. And not the good kind.
Seunghyun drives, suddenly the most focused man alive. Both hands on the wheel, eyes glued to the road like they’re under FBI surveillance. He looks like he’s trying to exorcise the memory of what just happened. Meanwhile, Jiyong… is a mess.
He stares out the window, lips parted slightly. His skin feels flushed. His shorts feel too short. His jersey feels too intimate now. His everything and everywhere is tingling. He touches his mouth like it’s not even his anymore. Then, he asks,
“Can I—”
Jiyong blurts it out before thinking. He clears his throat when Seunghyun swerves slightly from being startled. Jiyong gestures towards the radio with the awkwardness of someone who’s meeting their online friend after years. “I just…wanted to change the song…”
Seunghyun exhales and nods quickly. “Yeah! Yeah, for sure. Go ahead.” He lifts a hand from the wheel to rake a hand through his hair. A Tribe called Quest isn’t playing anymore, it’s hard-beat and raw vocals replaced by a slower, more polished and tender song. Perfect. Jiyong pretends to be on his phone, but it really on the notes app repeatedly right ‘What the fuck just happened’, eyes drifting to Seunghyun’s hands. Then his veins. Then his jaw. The fact that those lips just—
He shakes his head violently. No. They don’t say much the rest of the drive. The air says it all.
The car pulls up to Jiyong’s house. No lights inside, no one in the windows, thank god.
“Thanks for tonight,” Jiyong says, voice softer than usual.
Seunghyun glances at him, and for a second, it looks like he wants to pull him in for one more kiss. But instead, he just nods. Like he knows.
“I’ll text you when I get home.”
Jiyong nods. “Okay.” Bye. I love you.
And then he’s out. Quiet steps up the stairs. Unlocks the door with feather-light fingers. Creeps inside like a cat burglar.
Once in his room, the door shuts behind him. He slides down and lets out a shaky breath. With his head in his hands, his legs splayed, and his collarbone pulsing, he inhales,
“What. The. FUCK.”
Notes:
Am I hinting at a possible fanfic I’m writing that’s apart of the Squid game fandom? Nooo
Violetaa_234 (Guest) on Chapter 1 Wed 03 Sep 2025 10:12AM UTC
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totaldramarules on Chapter 1 Wed 03 Sep 2025 09:32PM UTC
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Arialily056 on Chapter 1 Thu 04 Sep 2025 11:30PM UTC
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Arialily056 on Chapter 1 Mon 08 Sep 2025 07:32PM UTC
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totaldramarules on Chapter 1 Tue 09 Sep 2025 01:29AM UTC
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Randolkar on Chapter 1 Fri 05 Sep 2025 01:41AM UTC
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eva_leen on Chapter 1 Fri 05 Sep 2025 03:50PM UTC
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eva_leen on Chapter 1 Sat 06 Sep 2025 07:55PM UTC
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Emyaox6 on Chapter 3 Wed 10 Sep 2025 01:33AM UTC
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Emyaox6 on Chapter 4 Wed 10 Sep 2025 04:16AM UTC
Last Edited Wed 10 Sep 2025 04:18AM UTC
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