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Chapter Text

Hongjoong vaguely remembered hearing some bullshit when he was little about how it was important that schools have uniforms because it kept poor kids from being distinguished as poor, and kept rich kids from flaunting the wealth their parents amassed. 

At least, Hongjoong had thought it was bullshit. 

But here he was, standing just inside of a wrought iron gate with nothing but ripped jeans, a t-shirt, and a jacket with so many paint stains, it looked like that was the original design and not just Hongjoong being messy while he worked. 

His sneakers weren’t tattered, but the pure green of them had been roughed up with dirt and time. 

The people who passed by him in Gucci and other brands Hongjoong couldn’t pronounce either stared at him like a piece of garbage hung under their noses or ignored him completely, as if he was nothing more than a smudge on the wall- not even worth noticing. 

He shouldered his bag a little higher, walking forward with a purpose. 

Turned-noses and disgusted glances aside, Hongjoong thought the place was lovely. 

And it had better be, for what he had to go through to get here. 

Six months here had him confident as he strode through the lavish courtyards that took up every available space with winding stone paths that lead through a campus that would make anyone’s head spin- much less someone whose idea of luxury was going to the large shopping mart across town. 

Hongjoong had learned how to blend in here. 

He had learned how to survive as someone of such a clear lower status- though it had taken him quite some time to figure out how to do that. If he didn’t make a lot of noise, and if he didn’t cause any sort of fuss- most people left him alone. 

Thus, Hongjoong walked in silence- avoiding the main path and walking around the back of Building A to the back door of Building F (how these people were so filthy rich, but couldn’t afford better building names was beyond him). 

(Hongjoong had stopped trying to understand rich people a while ago.) 

As he walked through the halls, people glanced over or ignored him, as they always did- and Hongjoong had to wonder how, after six months, he was still the newest oddity. 

Rich people lived such boring lives, if he was the most exciting thing they encountered. Hongjoong had seen more interesting roadkill on his way to the store. 

His backpack was heavy with books and textbooks (graciously provided by the school under his scholarship because there was absolutely no way he would be able to afford even one of these things on his own without starving for a year). 

People always asked (and by “people” he meant every living relative and family friend aside from his mother) why he chose Seoul International University. 

“Why go through so much for something that will get you as far as any college would?” his aunt demanded, on her fifth phone call that Hongjoong had failed to ignore. “It’s not that special- Why are you putting your mother through all this, just for a fancy stamp on a diploma?” 

Hongjoong pressed a hand to his eyes, keeping an eye on doors of the convenience store to make sure no customer walked in to find him on his phone. 

“Auntie,” he said, the diminutive sounding almost sarcastic with how forcefully he said it. “If you actually listened when my mom talked, you’d know she’s not paying a cent- that’s the whole point of the scholarship I applied for.”

“I’m not just talking about money!” she shrieked, outraged, and Hongjoong wondered if she had even bothered speaking to his mom because she sounded ready to go off the deep end. “You’re leaving your poor mother alone after everything she’s done for you-” 

“Mom and I already talked about this,” Hongjoong said through his teeth- bordering on genuinely annoyed. “I wouldn’t just leave her like that, but if all my housing is paid for by the school, I can send money back to Mom-” 

“You should be living with her still!” his aunt yelled into the phone, voice rising higher in pitch. “Not abandoning her like your father did to live on some college campus-” 

The bell above the door of the convenience store jingled, and Hongjoong didn’t even bother telling his aunt goodbye before hanging up and greeting the customers. 

And maybe Hongjoong would agree that SIU wasn’t the most… welcoming of places. 

It was only in the last five years that they even began to offer scholarships, and the standards that a person had to meet and keep up to qualify for it were ridiculous. 

Clearly meant to keep the rich in and the education-seeking poor out. 

But Hongjoong was determined. A determined poor bastard.

He’d studied his ass off to pass that entrance exam, and he worked until his eyes were bloodshot to pass the scholarship extra-credit portions. (The application and testing fees for those alone put a huge dent in their savings.) 

Hongjoong had to succeed.  

He had to. 

Because regardless of what his aunt thought, companies and businesses looked at people from SIU. It had just never affected his family and aunt because they weren’t among the 1% who usually attended. 

But graduating from here- successfully- with a legitimate degree and good GPA?

People couldn’t look at his financial standing, then. They would see his worth in the success he had managed to reap. Employers wouldn’t see him as a ratty kid from downtown- he’d be an SIU graduate and that meant he was worth something, dammit. 

It was harder for Hongjoong than most. 

It almost seemed as if every odd had been stacked against him- making even his ever-supportive mother question whether he wanted to go through with this or not. 

Because on top of going through all the fees and testing (and the prejudice and the stares), Hongjoong had transferred in his second year, and was trying to balance coursework that was leagues more difficult than he had ever seen, finding his way around this school that was as big as a city, trying not to let himself die of homesickness, and being given no time to acclimate before homework and tests began pouring in- 

And from the very beginning, his GPA hung above him like the blade of guillotine, waiting for him to slip and lose everything. Because if Hongjoong’s GPA slipped for any reason, that was it. Scholarship gone. 

Dreams… 

Dreams shattered... 

He’d spent the first two months here making himself sick to keep up (which only brought more stares). But after the first few months, he seemed to have fallen into enough of a rhythm that he could take a breath (but only one). 

English was probably one of his least favorite classes, but he still enjoyed it. Even if it absolutely sucked having it first thing in the morning. 

Especially because of Kang Yeosang. 

Okay, maybe that was a little bit unfair. 

Hongjoong didn’t actually have anything against Yeosang himself- in fact, Hongjoong probably would never notice the guy on his own. He sat in the front left of the classroom, and did nothing. 

Literally, nothing. 

He didn’t answer questions, he didn’t participate, he didn’t even bother opening his book. He just sat there, chin resting on his fist as he stared at the board- looking like he wasn’t hearing a word the professor said. 

He was also incredibly, unfairly attractive (even Hongjoong could admit to this, and be angry about it in a very petty, private way). Hongjoong actually found out on his first day that Yeosang was a model for his parents’ company. 

This was brought to his attention by the fact that in the middle of Hongjoong’s first ever class, the silent boy simply stood, grabbed his bag, and left with nothing more than an off handed “I have a photoshoot to get to.” 

Hongjoong couldn’t believe the audacity, but the professor simply nodded, and resumed teaching. 

Hongjoong had to gawk- was this what rich schools were like? It almost made him want to laugh how a school could be so fucking hard, but so lenient. 

Yeosang sometimes just got up and left in the middle of class to apparently do model work (a quick internet search had Hongjoong realizing that he had seen Yeosang before on YouTube ads from everything from clothing to cologne). 

That was a little weird. 

However, other than those brief interruptions in Hongjoong’s concentrations, Yeosang had done nothing to warrant Hongjoong’s anger. 

No, Kang Yeosang wasn’t the problem, it was everyone else around him. 

Or, rather, the people who wished they were around him. 

On all sides of Yeosang was an empty desk, used to create a barrier between him and the people (both male and female) salivating over him. 

This, of course, was the worst possible situation for Hongjoong because those seats surrounding Yeosang were the only ones available in the full classroom, and Hongjoong was sat directly beside him. 

Jesus Christ, if looks could kill, Hongjoong would have fifteen bullet holes in the back of his head as he took his seat. He could practically hear perfectly manicured nails scraping against the desk, and dress-shoed feet kicking at the ground in frustration. 

“Professor Noh!” one girl called before Hongjoong had even taken his seat. “What if we just switch, and you put the new guy back here? That way, he won’t be so close to Yeosang to bother him.” 

The first hard lesson Hongjoong had learned at this school: no one here gave a damn about your feelings or what you thought.

Especially when you were a scholarship nobody with no family who could pose any legitimate threat to them. 

Hongjoong had frozen, not sure if he wanted to run or fight the bitch. There was a beat of silence where Hongjoong didn’t know what to do. 

And then the professor simply shook his head. “Sit down, Hyuna, all seats have already been assigned and arranged- I’m not reorganizing my seating chart.” 

The hisses of anger and disgust had followed Hongjoong as he obeyed the professor’s direction to take the seat. He had tried to smile awkwardly at Yeosang, but the other hadn’t looked at him once throughout the entire exchange. 

So maybe Yeosang wasn’t an asshole (it seemed) but he was pretty rude. And if it wasn’t for him, Hongjoong wouldn’t have to deal with threatening sticky notes on his chair and even a fucking thumb tack waiting in his seat. 

But the rich didn’t care what happened to you. 

They only cared about what directly affected them. And Hongjoong had no power behind his name to raise a fuss with just because people were being mean to him . 

So Hongjoong took it, and every other challenge that was thrown at him, in stride. 

He had not worked his ass off to get here to be scared off by girls in hair rollers who were bitchy that he was sitting next to their man crush. 

Hongjoong could piss a few people off, too. 

Even months later, the glares of the students behind him hadn’t died down- though they were a bit quieter after Professor Noh threatened to throw out the next person who growled or threw paper in his class. 

Hongjoong had quickly stopped trying to smile at Yeosang, simply taking his seat and taking notes where he needed to. 

As per his usual daily schedule, the class was dismissed at the end, and Hongjoong booked it as quickly as he could from the room as people surged forward- no longer bound back by the professor’s reign now that class had ended. 

The first day, he hadn’t moved in time, and he had regretted it everyday since. 

Hongjoong glanced back from the doorway of the classroom- watching as a crowd of people swarmed around Yeosang’s desk, some of them simply calling his name, trying to get him to look at them, and some shoving photos in his face that they claimed were proof they were model material, if he ever wanted to do a co-shoot together. 

At first, Hongjoong had wanted to laugh at the stupid display. But, really, after only a minute’s thought… 

Hongjoong had to feel bad for the boy. Because Hongjoong had never seen any indication that he enjoyed or even more than tolerated the other people. 

He simply sat there, silently, as they pressed against him. 

Hongjoong often wonderd why he didn’t tell them to fuck off (but then again, Hongjoong would probably find himself dead in a ditch if he tried that. Maybe his family might be mad if he did.). 

But there wasn’t anything he could do for Yeosang, so he always left to begin his walk to his Art Appreciation class. 

Art was… 

Well, it had always been the one thing Hongjoong let himself ask for. 

He wouldn’t beg his mom for toys or games, and he wouldn’t ask for extra money to go out shopping with his friends. He knew they couldn’t afford things like that very often, so Hongjoong just tried to never ask for them. 

But when he had used his last canvas? When one of his brushes dried out? When there was a shiny box of brand new paints in colors Hongjoong had only seen in DIY videos?

Art was the thing Hongjoong had let himself be selfish for (despite the fact his mom always told him he could ask for more than just that). 

Hence the paint streaks that colored his jean jacket (this was not actually on purpose, like the one jacket he had reformed was). It probably only made his clothing look ever more tattered compared to the other students here, but they could fucking suck it. 

It was a nice jacket. Comfortable. 

Art Appreciation was a boring class, despite Hongjoong’s investment in the subject. It dragged by with minimal hassle because it was nothing more than a man clicking next on PowerPoint slides with the dull scratching of pens against paper. 

Hongjoong sat to the back of this class, and was not disturbed. 

His Sketching class was not so fortunate. 

Because like English, Hongjoong was forced into much too close quarters with people who were way too popular. 

Jung Yunho was a massive, bumbling puppy of a person- who greeted the class brightly and with enthusiasm that Hongjoong couldn’t believe could be genuine. 

But every day, without fail, Yunho entered, waving to everyone brightly and even greeting a few by name. 

He’d overheard Yunho talking a few times about his family’s business- something in owning hotels and cruises? Hongjoong could see it- that overly bright customer service smile (though it looked completely genuine on Yunho, making Hongjoong believe he was just that friendly). 

At least he was going into the right career. 

His eyes passed right over Hongjoong most days- a few times they landed on him, but glanced over quickly, as if afraid to be caught staring. 

Boys leapt up to slap him on the back and squeeze his hand in feats of strength, and girls asked each other frantically how their hair looked or if they had a piece of kimchi in their teeth, waving shyly when he greeted them. 

Somehow, this was almost more obnoxious than Yeosang because at least Yeosang wasn’t reciprocating back at the crazy people. 

Sketching was a more hands-on class, and Hongjoong wanted to grind his teeth to stumps as the chatter never seemed to stop- making him frequently pause so his tight grip didn’t destroy his angles he had been measuring so meticulously. 

Hongjoong wasn’t even sure the other people in the class were working . 

It was only a couple weeks into his classes that Professor Yang paused by his desk while she made her rounds. 

“Excellent shadowing, Hongjoong,” she complimented, as she did with most people who made a half-way decent attempt. “However, if you are having trouble concentrating, you may work with headphones in, so long as you can hear any instructions I give. We aren’t some backwards public school.” She smirked knowingly.

Hongjoong stared at her in shock, and she winked at him, smiling kindly as he moved on. 

Hongjoong kept his volume down, but it was enough that he could drown out the constant talking about him. 

Today was no different- his headphones going in and his mind focusing on making the room he was sketching as 3D as possible, his hands meticulous and steady. 

His mom always said he had steady hands. That they were an artist’s hands- even as he would fingerpaint as a child, much too focused on his movements, even if the picture still turned out like nothing. 

Hongjoong switched to a softer pencil, placing it against the delicate lamp he had drawn- 

Hongjoong felt something bump into his back. 

He felt the lead of the pencil scratch against the thick paper- a dark streak of pencil streaking its way through his pristine sketch. 

One mistake Hongjoong had made upon coming to SIU: he assumed rich people would simply ignore him and go about their day. 

He was wrong. Because these rich people were snobby and cruel and didn’t care about the consequences of their actions. 

Especially against a nobody like him. 

He stared in horror for a moment, whipping around and ripping his headphones out- 

A boy (probably named Donghun?) quickly stepped away from Hongjoong, looking like he was biting back a smile as he stared in overly exaggerated horror. “Oh, no, I’m sorry , I didn’t mean to-” 

“ Donghun !” 

Even Hongjoong flinched at Professor Yang’s voice shrieking across the classroom, her eyes livid. “Detention!” 

Donghun’s expression dropped in true horror. “ What ? That’s bull-” 

“Argue with me, and we’ll make it a trip to the headmaster’s office!” she said mercilessly. “You are done for today- leave, for disrupting class. See me later for details on your detention.” 

“You can’t-”

“ Now .” 

Donghun cursed beneath his breath, stomping to his bag and tearing it away from the ground, storming from the classroom and slamming the door hard enough to knock a painting from the wall. 

That was another thing Hongjoong had noticed. He didn’t know if the teachers were just from powerful families, or if they just had guaranteed immunity from wealthy parents pissed off that their little angels had been given detention. The teachers feared no threats that the students tried to give, though. 

And Hongjoong couldn’t be more grateful. 

Professor Yang was suddenly standing at the edge of Hongjoong’s table, clicking her tongue regretfully. “I’m sorry about that, Hongjoong. I doubt you’ll have time to fix it today, but if you have free time tomorrow, you may come in to finish and correct it.” 

Hongjoong stared at her, mouth agape as he frantically went through his schedule tomorrow. 

He had work right after classes, so his only chance was during lunch. His stomach mourned the lost food, but he quickly nodded. “I have a break right during lunch.” 

Professor Yang nodded quietly, looking genuinely apologetic. “That’ll be fine. If I’m in a meeting with someone, just come in and sit quietly, alright?” 

At the very least, the teachers all seemed to treat Hongjoong fairly. Professor Yang even seemed to view him as impressive for being here. 

It was a very welcome change. 

Hongjoong nodded, thanking her graciously. She was under no obligation to give him time to fix it before the due date. And Hongjoong thanked his fucking stars that he would be allowed to. 

He could not take that hit to his grade. 

When Professor Yang left him to begin fixing the dark streak, Hongjoong glanced across the classroom. 

Most of the people were still staring at him- either in shock or hiding laughter behind their hands. 

However, for the first time Hongjoong could remember, Jung Yunho was not smiling. 

He stared at Hongjoong silently, lips pressed together and eyes dark with something that almost looked sorry. 

Hongjoong knew that Donghun sat directly next to Yunho, his empty seat glaring. He didn’t know if Yunho had been in on it or not, but he didn’t really care. 

He returned to his work, shoving his headphones back in, not letting the stress have a chance to get to him. He’d worked on a deadline before, and he could do it again. 

Class ended without him finishing his corrections, but he had managed to make sure every dark part had been erased carefully, and had begun redrawing parts. 

Hongjoong was the first to leave again, shoving his things away and putting his sketch back on the rack it would wait on. He left the classroom without a glance back (he almost wished he had taken a moment to thank Professor Yang again, but he would do it tomorrow, for sure). 

Next, he went to lunch. 

Lunch was always interesting. 

Somehow, it was the one thing not included in his scholarship. Meal plans were available to him at a discounted price, but it was something still way too outside of his finances (given that they had options like fucking lobster for lunch). 

So, just to add another thing for people to stare about, Hongjoong packed his lunch everyday. 

He wasn’t starving, thanks to most of his other expenses being covered, but it was still a simple lunch. Fried rice, kimbap, a couple side dishes that his mom still insisted on sending him… 

Truthfully, if he was having a bad day, he wouldn’t eat the side dishes, since they reminded him too much of how far from home he was. 

Hongjoong hated eating in the cafeteria, and only ever stayed inside if it was raining or unbearably cold outside. But, it was the warm weather still- fall not yet beginning to creep in. So, Hongjoong merely had to pass through the cafeteria to get to the courtyard where he usually ate. 

And, in the cafeteria, is where he met two more of the things that made his school absolutely insane. 

Song Mingi and Choi San… 

Like Yeosang, they had never really done anything to Hongjoong. Hell, Hongjoong was sure that neither of them had ever even noticed him. They had no classes together, but they were the beasts of the cafeteria. 

They sat in the center of the room, and the rest of the people flocked to them. Like Yeosang and Yunho, they were surrounded constantly by boys and girls chatting, flirting, laughing. Unlike Yeosang, though, they seemed to adore the attention with gracious smiles and loud laughs. 

San was (according to rumors that were passed around like an old hat here) some big martial arts guy? Or maybe his family just owned a lot of self-defense stuff? Hongjoong had heard vague rumors about his family training the people who protected the president and stuff. 

And then there was Song Mingi, who- like Yunho- had no business being so goddamn tall. Even sitting down, his head stuck out among the people crowding them. 

All he knew about Mingi was that his parents’ apparently handled big ass bank transactions. (Like, between fucking countries.) 

Hongjoong had never wanted to be so close to so much politics, but it came with the territory. 

Anyway, Hongjoong had no real reason to hate them, but on his third day, he had been walking through the cafeteria, and some asshole ran into him trying to get to their table. Hongjoong’s lunch had splattered against the floor, food getting everywhere. 

The asshole hadn’t even stopped to see what had happened, losing himself in the crowd surrounding them. 

Hongjoong had gone without any sort of lunch that day, and he’d never really forgiven them. Petty, but reasonable considering it was his special beef kimbap they had ruined. 

Hongjoong didn’t even glance at them, though, too used to their presence. He went out to the courtyard and found a tree off to the side that no one ever sat beneath because it had an ant pile beside it. 

(It was abandoned, but if it meant he got to be alone for a goddamn second, he’d keep that rumor going.) 

He sat in the grass, pulling out his lunch, and doing his usual people watching. 

The shade of the tree hid him enough that no one screamed at him for staring. The courtyard was never very full- most of these people preferring to stay inside, safe from the sun and weather. 

A few students were scattered beneath umbrellas (at the picnic tables that Hongjoong avoided), chatting cordially, or laughing obnoxiously loud. 

Sat at a table in silence, across the way, with three other people, was Choi Jongho. They were silent, heads bent as they did schoolwork with one hand as the other hand carried spoonfuls of soup to their mouths. 

Out of every “most popular” Hongjoong had seen, he had considered Jongho the most normal. Almost too normal. He was stoic and quiet, always doing some sort of homework and scribbling something down. 

The only problem was that one time Hongjoong saw him punch through a fucking watermelon during the end of summer lunch picnic (which had not been a picnic- there were wedding tents and tile flooring brought out for fuck’s sake). 

So, yeah, Hongjoong wasn’t all that eager to know him anymore. But, they almost seemed to be of the same brand of people. 

Except… you know… Hongjoong was poor and wore painted jackets, and Jongho was filthy rich and in line to take over some big tech company with black suits and kempt hair. 

Hongjoong reviewed some of his PowerPoints after he finished eating, until it was time to head to his next class which (thankfully) had nothing but notes to take and quiet discussion about Art History in modern context. 

No pretty boys. No big disruptions. 

Until his Design class. Where one Jung Wooyoung was present. 

And he was popular. Most of the people here wore some article of clothing that Wooyoung’s family had produced. 

People were constantly coming up and begging him to tell his mom that they loved her new perfume, or that their shoes were so comfortable, or their blouse was absolutely gorgeous. 

Like San and Mingi… Wooyoung was loud. Louder than anyone. 

Someone once teased him that his hair looked like a piece of chewing gum, and the cry of playful outrage had nearly burst Hongjoong’s eardrums. 

Like his sketching class, it was hands-on, so they were free to listen to music or chat while they worked on their projects. 

Even music could not drown out Jung Wooyoung’s shrieking laughter or the tumbling of rough housing that he always seemed to be participating in. 

He was a bit wild for Hongjoong’s taste. And he (or someone else he was playing with) were often bumping into Hongjoong while he tried to sketch designs out. 

Wooyoung was, however, the only person who had ever apologized to Hongjoong. 

Granted, he barely glanced at Hongjoong, and it was more a breathless “sorry” tossed over his shoulder as he patting Hongjoong’s back, before returning to chasing someone around for their eraser. 

Hongjoong had, during his time at SIU, learned that among all these beautiful, rich, famous, popular, cliquey, horribly rude people… there were certain ones who simply stood at a level above the rest. 

Whether it was because their parents were more powerful or they were just people who attracted attention, Hongjoong didn’t quite know. 

What he did know that those names- Yeosang, Yunho, Mingi, San, Jongho, Wooyoung- were known and screamed by every person who attended SIU. There were others, of course, but these were the ones who fell in Hongjoong’s path. 

They were the ones who affected his life. 

And somehow… the person who put all of their popularity to shame… was the one person that Hongjoong wasn’t quite sure about. The one that Hongjoong saw the absolute least amount of time. 

Park Seonghwa was a bit of an enigma. 

Hongjoong only ever saw him as he was leaving for the day. 

As he walked back to his on-campus apartment, Seonghwa would always be getting into some limo preparing to take him home. 

He was always dressed nicely- in crisp (or artfully ruffled) dress shirts and dark (or bright white, if he was feeling flashy) slacks. His hair was either perfectly placed without a hair out of place, or the perfect sort of sex-mussed that drove people wild. 

That wasn’t the enigmatic part, though. 

The weird part was that Hongjoong could not for the life of him figure out what his personality was. What part he was playing. 

Yeosang was the ice prince. Yunho, the puppy. Mingi and San were the troublemakers. Jongho was the silent, intelligent one. Wooyoung was the wildcard. 

Seonghwa? 

He was almost icy. He was cordial and polite- never loud or rambunctious. His smile was always warm and welcoming, and the way he kissed each girl’s hand made them swoon, and the brief hug he gave each boy that shook his hand farewell was genuine. 

He flitted back and forth between keeping a wall of polite company, and delving into something like warm friendship with everyone he met. He was infinitely calm, it seemed, even when doubled over laughing at something that was said. 

His eyes were warm, but his posture was stiff, even among friends. Hongjoong didn’t know what the hell to make of him. 

The people who surrounded him weren’t screaming, nor crowding him, but they all buzzed with an energy as they kept a two foot space between them at all times. As if there was some unspoken rule not to approach. 

Were they actually friends? Hongjoong had speculated that they were just business friends, but Seonghwa seemed so warm and welcoming to them as they bid him goodbye. 

For every name on anyone’s lips, Seonghwa’s was on theirs five times. Always spoken with reverence or quiet daydreaming- never the screams and squeals from most people. 

It almost seemed like people respected him, more than they fawned over him. But, once more, the people were too close- clapping him on the back, but never encroaching his space until he made the first move, and then stepping back to a distance. 

They acted like friends, but stood like business partners. 

And no one ever went home with him. 

Hongjoong had seen those other Populars go home- sometimes with groups of people (friends?) or just with one or two, even if they mostly went home alone. 

But no one ever got into the limo with Seonghwa. He always went home alone. With gracious smiles and warm hugs, he would leave. 

Hongjoong didn’t know what the hell was up with him, but it didn’t really matter. The only reason he noticed Seonghwa was because he passed him everyday. The others had done things to annoy Hongjoong (by extension), but Seonghwa was just… there. 

Hongjoong never heard rumors about him, so he wasn’t sure where he stood or what his parents did. 

Hell, maybe people were just intimidated by his looks (because, let’s face it, Hongjoong was sort of bitter that all these rich kids could look like a 10, walking into a class at 8AM without any sort of prep work). 

Hongjoong lived on campus. 

He was also the only one who lived on campus. Literally. 

There were dorms (they were called ‘dorms’) built on the east side of campus, provided for students who wished to use them. 

Of course, all the students simply lived with their parents, or had enough money to live in whatever luxurious apartments they chose to, in the center of Seoul. Things much nicer than the “dreary, dungeon dorms on campus”. 

Hongjoong’s entrance hall was bigger than his mom’s apartment. 

Yes. Hongjoong’s campus dorm room had an entrance hall . 

He closed the heavy wooden door behind him, locking it and staring at the open space. It was modern, with no walls and lots of windows that faced the city. The flooring was all white or cream tiling. The kitchen was shiny and new with an island and stainless steel appliances provided for him. 

The living room was dark wooden flooring with a large rug and a marble fireplace (everything was already furnished with a couch and armchair and tables). It had a TV he didn’t use that was the size of a window. 

Down the hall, there was a bathroom, laundry room, storage room, and bedroom. All of which were also larger than his mom’s apartment. Everything was pristine and new, and made Hongjoong afraid to put his painting clothes in the washer, for fear of getting it dirty. 

The storage room, he turned into an art room. However, even with how much art he had, it only took up a quarter of the room, leaving the rest bare and empty. 

It made it look lonely. 

The bedroom came with a queen bed, dresser, and walk-in closet. 

Hongjoong didn’t have a lot of stuff. He had come here with one suitcase full of clothing, one full of art supplies, and one full of other things like knick knacks. 

Even with all of his things unpacked, the place looked like no one lived there- the room swallowing up his pitiful attempt to fill it with homey things, like the pictures of him and his mom. 

Hongjoong dropped his bag by the desk, pulling his laptop out and ignoring the monstrous room behind him. 

He put in his headphones, turning his music up to drown out the quiet of being the only person here. 

He worked on his homework diligently until he got hungry. Then he rose and grabbed a ramen cup, heating the water. He brought it back, eating while he kept working, ears blasted with music. 

The homework was… hard. It was like each assignment was a final exam, and you couldn’t remember when the hell you had ever learned this. 

He tried to simultaneously come up with something quick that he could eat while working on his project at lunch tomorrow. 

Was he allowed to eat in the classroom? Professor Yang wouldn’t mind, right? Was it different for him? Did Professor Yang even care that he was poor? She didn’t seem to. 

When his handwriting became lazy, he stopped, sliding into bed in his comfortable pajamas. He didn’t bother looking at the clock, knowing that it was way later than any human should be up. 

He double checked his alarms- both for waking up and for getting to work- and laid down, staring at the ceiling. 

He should call his mom soon… After this next paycheck, he should have enough to send her something. 

A mixture of exhaustion, excitement, and dread settled in his stomach familiarly as he pulled the thick blanket up. If nothing else, these rich people had really fucking comfortable beds. 

In the morning: wake up and repeat it all over again. 

~~~~~~~~~

Hongjoong didn’t see Donghun in Sketching the next class period. Thankfully. 

He worked quietly, bobbing his head to the music as he carefully (but frantically) tried to connect the broken lines of his project, brows drawn down in concentration- 

A gentle hand tapped his back. 

Hongjoong looked up quickly, thinking Professor Yang had been trying to get his attention, but instead he found Yunho standing behind him- needing to crane his neck to see him from his seated position. 

Yunho looked startled- as if he hadn’t actually expected Hongjoong to turn around, floundering now that he had. 

Hongjoong stared for a moment, frowning expectantly as he pulled one earphone out. 

Yunho continued to stare, mouth opening without speaking. His face flushed as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I- Uh- I didn’t-” 

And maybe Hongjoong had been staring too hard at his page, letting frustration get the better of him, but he simply turned away. “You’ll have to hit me harder than that, if you want me to mess up,” he muttered in annoyance. 

Hongjoong swore he was usually nicer than this, but Yunho had been right next to Donghun. 

“No!” Yunho burst, shockingly loud, making Hongjoong jump and turn back to stare at him. 

As did…everyone else in the class- eyes either on Yunho or Hongjoong, burning into skin. Hongjoong gripped his pencil tighter as his skin heated under their stares. 

He wasn’t here to be a spectacle. 

Yunho shook his head frantically, glancing at the people who had now turned their attention to them. “I- I meant- I was going to-” 

“Yunho, what the hell are you doing talking to him?” a boy called, grinning. “Come on- I want to show you something on Twitter!” 

Yunho looked like he was being pulled in two different directions. Hongjoong pressed his lips together, wondering what other direction he could be pulled in. He turned away from Yunho, who had still yet to say anything, putting his headphone back in. 

Yunho seemed anything but vindictive. 

But Hongjoong could feel the entire class staring- wondering why popular Yunho was talking to the scholarship kid. Why would he ever talk to him? 

Hongjoong didn’t want to be their entertainment. He’d take their anger and scorn- but not their laughter. 

He saw Yunho go back to his seat from the corner of his eye. 

Professor Yang told them all to pack up- stopping by Hongjoong’s seat to tell him he could continue to work. 

The bell rang as Hongjoong frantically tried to take full advantage of his extra hour, everyone filing out as he remained sitting, turning his paper as his soft pencil shaded depth into the scene. 

After a few minutes, though, he stood, excusing himself to the bathroom (he usually went at lunch), Professor Yang smiling graciously as she nodded from her desk. Hongjoong practically ran- feeling every second counting down of his precious time to fix things. 

His hands were still damp as he frantically dried them on his pants, rushing back to the classroom- 

He froze inside the door- seeing someone else standing at Professor Yang’s desk and immediately thinking it was another professor. 

Both of them turned at his entrance, and Hongjoong blinked in shock at the fact that it was Seonghwa turning to look at him. 

Professor Yang smiled, gesturing for Hongjoong to come. “You can keep working, Hongjoong- Mr. Park and I were merely chatting. We won’t disturb you.” 

Hongjoong nodded, going to walk forward as Professor Yang turned back to something on her desk. Seonghwa however… was still watching him. 

Hongjoong felt his eyes track him as he crossed the classroom, refusing to glance over for fear of making eye contact. 

He was suddenly realizing that Seonghwa was a lot more intimidating when you were standing six feet from him, rather than watching across the street. Hongjoong sat and quickly resumed working, plugging his headphones back into his ears, but forgetting to play his music. 

As such, he could still make out the edges of conversation across the room, and he was too focused on working to remember his music. 

“-think your father will be interested in the data the different departments have gathered,” Professor Yang said, quiet out of respect for Hongjoong’s work. “I know he's rather busy, but since he’s always shown an interest in the school you chose… The Arts department has actually seen a rather large increase, compared to past years.”

Seonghwa hummed graciously, sounding glad. 

Professor Yang’s voice dropped, most definitely not intending for Hongjoong to hear. “And despite what others’ opinions may be, I think it speaks positively that our first ever scholarship student chose to join our Arts department.” 

Hongjoong’s pencil froze for a moment before he quickly moved it again, bending over his work further, reaching out and playing his music before he heard anything else he wasn’t supposed to. 

However, for the first time, Hongjoong heard the term “scholarship student” like it wasn’t an insult. Something that set him below the rest. 

She said it like it was something that simply set him apart from the rest. 

Without their conversation filtering into his ears, Hongjoong worked quicker, forgetting about his rumbling stomach and cramping hand until a hand was placed on his shoulder. 

He jerked up, taking out his earbuds as Professor Yang smiled down at him. “Five minutes until the end of lunch,” she told him, glancing over his work. “Very nicely done,” she praised, picking it up. “You can’t even tell anything happened!” 

Hongjoong felt a flicker of pride, regardless of how much he was sure you could see old pencil marks. 

She turned the paper around. “Isn’t it impressive, Mr. Park?” she asked vibrantly. 

Hongjoong hadn’t even noticed Seonghwa was still here, but he stepped away from her desk to examine it closer. 

Hongjoong fucking hated critiques, as necessary as they were. And he and Seonghwa hadn’t had any sort of issue yet, so he hoped he didn’t have to feel bitter about it. 

He had no idea how Seonghwa felt about the “scholarship student.” 

Seonghwa’s eyes flitted over his work- Hongjoong thinking they looked a little too calculating for just critiquing a draft. 

Seonghwa’s lips lifted in a warm smile that he directed at Hongjoong. “The shading is very realistic. Not too rigid- it seems to almost melt into the page.” 

Hongjoong stared for a moment, taken aback by such genuine praise as she set the paper back on his desk. “Uh- Th-Thanks,” he said, glancing down at the shading. “Are you in the Arts program?” he asked, glancing back up. 

Seonghwa laughed- good natured and genuine, shaking his head. “ Certainly not,” he assured him, exaggerated in his refusal, making Professor Yang chuckle. “No, I’m useless when creating art. I can appreciate it, though.” 

Seonghwa’s eyes voice pointedly flickered from Hongjoong’s sketch to his face. 

And then observed from his face to his waist and back up in a single flicker. His smile remained warm and innocent. 

Hongjoong’s expression pulled down in a small frown. He hadn’t just imagined that, had he? 

If Professor Yang had seen the little size-up, she didn’t mention it. “Are you satisfied, Hongjoong?” she asked. “This is all the extra time I can allow you, I’m sorry.” 

Hongjoong quickly looked away from Seonghwa who hadn’t stopped staring at him- not obviously or creepily, but he was very much looking at Hongjoong and not Professor Yang. 

He stood, nodding swiftly. “Y-Yeah, I think it’s okay. Thank you for allowing me to fix it.” He carried it to the rack, and she hummed. 

“Let me know if you run into any other issues, alright?” she requested genuinely. 

Hongjoong stopped where he was putting up his supplies, taken aback by the gentleness there. 

“You have every right to be here, Hongjoong,” she said firmly. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, alright? You’ve worked harder to be here than more than half of these other kids.” 

He stared like an idiot. 

“Y-Yes, ma’am,” he wound up blurting, bowing low as he grabbed his bag. “I should go- My next class-” 

She waved him off, looking satisfied as she walked back to her desk. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Hongjoong. Mr. Park, are we finished?” 

Hongjoong didn’t stick around to hear, rushing out and to his next class, frantically shoving a few bites of kimbap in his mouth on the way, nearly choking. 

There was no way Seonghwa had been checking him out. He must have been distracted by all the paint stains (and, on this particular  jacket, a bleach stain the size of a baseball). And his ripped jeans. And his dusty boots. 

Had he put on eyeliner this morning? He didn’t. So his eyeliner wasn’t smudged- 

He shook his head, knocking the thoughts away as he choked on a piece of rice as he arrived to Art History. Didn’t matter. He’d never see Seonghwa again, save for from the distance of a street. 

The day flew by now that the stress of his project was freed from his mind, and after what felt like moments, he was walking from Design into the courtyard. He swung his bag around to the front, pulling out his apron for work as he was reaching the campus gate, trying to unknot the strings- 

He saw someone standing in his path at the last second as he stared downwards, jerking to the side and stumbling. 

“Shit- Sorry,” he burst, heading jerking up- 

Seonghwa gazed back at him, smiling cordially. 

Hongjoong froze, more startled to recognize the face than anything else. “Oh,” he said, twisting the apron in his hand. “Hi. Sorry, I wasn’t looking.” 

Seonghwa’s smile grew- warm and glowing through his eyes. “In a hurry?” he asked. “Classes are over.” 

“I was on my way to work,” Hongjoong said, gesturing over his shoulder, despite it not being the direction of his work. “Sorry, again, but I should go.” 

He started backing away, hoping that Seonghwa didn’t decide to press charges for assault or something. Seonghwa wasn’t like that, though, right? 

He seemed nice. His smile was genuine, reaching his eyes. Hongjoong still didn’t really understand him, though. 

He smiled awkwardly, backing away and turning to continue walking on his way. Weird. 

“Does your work start so soon after school?” 

Hongjoong jumped, cursing as he realized Seonghwa was walking half a step behind him, arms behind his back curiously as he kept pace with Hongjoong. 

Hongjoong frowned as Seonghwa tailed him in his dress shirt and slacks and messed hair and pretty face that had no business looking at Hongjoong. 

Wasn’t Seonghwa usually on the other side of campus, though, in his car? 

Hongjoong frowned deeper, Seonghwa lifting a curious eyebrow at his reaction. 

“Were… Were you waiting for me?” Hongjoong asked at a risk of sounding self-centered, glancing back at the gate he had exited out of. There was no one else there. Seonghwa had just been standing outside the gate by himself. 

And Hongjoong waited for the affronted scoff for assuming Seonghwa would ever pay that much attention to the scholarship student. 

But Seonghwa’s lips merely turned up, as if amused. “Perhaps,” he answered obtusely. 

Hongjoong froze where he was walking, Seonghwa stopping as well, still looking as if he was genuinely enjoying this conversation. 

In Hongjoong’s mind, Seonghwa was pretty nice. 

He hadn’t done anything for Hongjoong to think otherwise. And nothing about the boy was off-putting, and Hongjoong wasn’t creeped out by the behavior (he was sure rich people could do way worse). 

But… if there was one thing that Hongjoong swore, it was that he would become no one’s toy. 

“Why?” he asked, a little stiff. 

Seonghwa shrugged, chuckling warmly. “Can’t you guess?” he questioned good naturedly. “I know you didn’t miss it in Professor Yang’s classroom.” It almost sounded like he was teasing Hongjoong playfully. Nudging him verbally with his elbow.  

“Miss what?” Hongjoong demanded. “You checking me out?”

Hongjoong’s mom used to slap his mouth when he was younger because he was never one to be afraid to speak his mind. Usually, it made him sound like an asshole. But, among these upper classes, he was finding that it was the only language they understood. 

Seonghwa shrugged with one shoulder. “Is it that hard to believe?” 

He once again traced his eyes over Hongjoong’s face. 

His gaze wasn’t sleazy. It wasn’t creepy or ogling Hongjoong- in fact, it was still gentle and warm, as if he were tempted to try to wine and dine Hongjoong. 

Looking at him, Seonghwa seemed like nothing but a gentleman interested in getting to know Hongjoong better. 

However, Hongjoong was not stupid. 

He knew that no one of this class- much less the most fucking popular person in this entire school filled with rich, gorgeous, willing participants- would ever be looking at Hongjoong like that. 

Not while being serious. 

“Thanks,” Hongjoong managed, beginning to walk again. “But I’m not interested,” he said firmly, waving goodbye. 

Seonghwa continued to trail after him, frowning. “What do you mean?” 

Oh, God, do not turn it into one of those conversations. 

Hongjoong shook his head sternly, glancing at Seonghwa who seemed genuinely perplexed by Hongjoong’s answer. “I’m flattered,” he said, choosing to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he was being genuine (despite the fact that it was impossible that he was), “but I’m not interested in dating anyone right now.” 

Seonghwa was still following him, and Hongjoong turned his gaze slightly sharper. 

“Now, I really have to get to work-” 

“Do the stars have to align for you to date?” Seonghwa chuckled innocently, walking alongside Hongjoong. 

Hongjoong sucked in a breath as he turned sharply- the polite awkwardness falling away as his sharp eyes turned almost into a glare as he rounded on Seonghwa who stopped, looking startled. 

“Look, I was trying to be nice,” Hongjoong snapped, crushing his apron in his grip. “But apparently you people can only understand one sort of language, so I’ll make sure you can understand me very clearly, Seonghwa- ” 

He glared, stepping closer, gritting his teeth. 

“ Fuck off, ” he hissed pointedly, slowly. “I’m not interested .” 

Seonghwa looked as if Hongjoong had physically struck him, but Hongjoong couldn’t feel bad as he turned, storming down the sidewalk quickly, not even glancing back until he rounded the corner. 

He hid for a moment, glancing back. When no one followed, he peered back around the corner, and found nothing but empty sidewalk. 

He huffed, rubbing at his face as he walked quicker towards his work, knowing he would likely be late after all that. 

He jogged, wondering if he had been a little harsh… Nothing Seonghwa said had come across as cruel or taunting… Just as if Seonghwa genuinely couldn’t understand why there should ever be a point in someone’s lives where they were emotionally unavailable. 

Which was probably another set of problems in and of itself, but Hongjoong would rather nip it in the bud, instead of leaving it to root around. 

Aside from the fact that Hongjoong would have to be crazy to the highest degree to try and date someone of such a higher social status, he really didn’t plan on dating anyone, from any social circle. 

Where would he find the damn time? His life was currently swallowed by school, homework, work, and precious sleep. He didn’t have time to set aside for emotional investment. 

Certainly not with someone like the richest upper class that he happened to rub elbows with. 

Seonghwa seemed nice, but it was very clear that his entire world view was colored too heavily by his status. Hongjoong wasn’t going to dedicate his precious time to trying to inform him of the obvious socio-economic differences between the two of them. 

Hongjoong sprinted the last block to work, making it just in time to avoid a scolding as the girl on shift before him left with a pop of her bubble gum and not even a wave. 

Hongjoong manned the counter, standing still and straightening the little stacks of notes and receipts. 

Besides… Seonghwa was leagues above Hongjoong in everything. Money, status, popularity, looks- everything. 

They hadn’t spoken before today, and no one else in the school could possibly know anything about Hongjoong, so Seonghwa probably knew less about Hongjoong than Hongjoong knew about Seonghwa. 

Which meant that his apparent interest was either fueled by boredom and a desire to play with the newest toy on campus (Hongjoong’s blood boiled a little with that one), or he had seen Hongjoong in passing and merely attempting to start something physical. 

Both of which were things Hongjoong wasn’t interested in, and wasn’t planning on going through. 

He would not become these rich people’s plaything. Not in any aspect. He was here to learn and work- not play around. 

If a few richies got butt-hurt in the process, then that was their problem. 

Hongjoong had worked too hard to get here. 

~~~~~~~~

The thing about these rich colleges, compared to a public college, was that everyone already knew everyone. 

Whereas Hongjoong might struggle to remember the name of one person sitting next to him, every single person at SIU knew each other. Most of them had known each other since they were kids- brought together by parents and business partners. 

So, it wasn’t startling, but it was weird to think that everyone Hongjoong saw knew everyone else Hongjoong saw. 

He got to English early, since it was supposed to rain later and he didn’t want to get caught in it. 

His bright orange windbreaker looked like a trash bag compared to everyone else in their designer rain gear and umbrellas, despite the fact they stepped out of their cars directly into a covered port, and never got touched with water.

So, Hongjoong was damp from the light rain, and he got to English early.  

However, without the professor’s controlling power that came with the start of class, the students in the class were all crowded around the front- pressing in on the desk that held Yeosang (whom Hongjoong could not see through the crowd chattering). 

“Yeosang!” he heard as he approached with his bag. “Did you really model for Vogue last summer? Isn’t that huge? What was it like? Were the other models nice?” 

He couldn’t tell if it was the same person asking every question or a bunch of different ones, but Hongjoong also knew that those people were all blocking his desk. 

He could just sit in another seat until they moved, but then they’d probably sue him for trying to dirty their desks. So, Hongjoong shouldered his bag and began to make his way between students. 

“‘Scuse me,” he muttered as they parted at his gentle prodding, looking annoyed and then glaring when they realized who it was. 

Hongjoong grit his teeth as he kept slipping by. “‘Scuse me- Excuse me, I need to get through-” 

He made it all the way to his desk without anyone pulling a knife on him, but a girl sat in his seat, leaning on her knees and practically beaming at Yeosang. 

Yeosang sat in his desk, leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest, looking utterly disinterested, as if he wasn’t hearing a thing the people said. 

Why did they continue to talk, if he wasn’t listening? Hongjoong had to wonder, but it didn’t really matter to him. 

He cleared his throat, tapping the girl gently on the shoulder. “Excuse me, that’s my seat. Could you please move?” he asked politely. 

The girl glanced back, frowning, which then turned to a glare as she realized it was Hongjoong. Her perfectly lined brows drew down in annoyance. “Excuse me?” she demanded, straightening and looking ready to stand. “What did you just say to me?” 

He saw Yeosang glance at him, but Hongjoong didn’t look anywhere but the girl in his desk, his expression calm. “I asked if you could please move. I need to sit in my seat.” 

The crowd was staring at them. 

Hongjoong would not be their toy. 

The girl scoffed, looking shocked at his audacity. “Do you fucking mind?” she asked sweetly. “We’re having a conversation here- Are you always so rude to people speaking?” 

Don’t fire back, Hongjoong begged internally of himself. Just be nice. Don’t stoop to their level.

“Sorry for interrupting,” he said evenly. “But I’d like to sit. And you’re in my seat.” 

Her shock only grew as she turned in the seat, perfectly manicured nails looking ready to go for Hongjoong’s throat. 

“Listen,” she said, a sneer taking her smooth, red lips. “I know that the lower class can’t afford manners, so I can’t hold it against you-” 

Hongjoong pressed his lips together, one fist clenching at his side. 

“-but let me explain something to you,” she continued bitterly. “If you ever… touch me… again… or speak to me,” she hissed. “I will have your bank account conveniently empty and full of so many overdraft fees, your grandchildren will be paying it!” She snapped, teeth practically bared like a cat. 

You could just deck her, Hongjoong’s inner demon whispered. 

Yes, and be expelled, the rational part of him snapped. 

So, Hongjoong merely stared blankly at her, holding back all signs of indignation and rage. The crowd was twittering with oohs and aahs, thinking she had gotten him good. 

“Would you rather I took your desk?” Hongjoong asked quietly, voice low. “That one?” He pointed to the middle row, halfway back. “Because I’m sitting down. Either in my seat, or in yours.” 

She laughed. “You think-” 

“You sure you want my lower class germs on it?” Hongjoong asked, tilting his head. “If I can’t afford manners, I probably can’t afford vaccinations, either. I’m probably teeming with diseases. Viruses. Bugs, even. I found a louse in my hair this morning-” 

The girl leapt up, gagging as he covered her mouth, staring at the desk she had been sitting in, pale and sick. 

“You- You’re disgusting!” she shrieked, everyone else in the class taking several steps away from Hongjoong with similar gasps and gags. 

Hongjoong shrugged, still staring at her. “I think I’m about to sneeze,” he montoned. 

She screamed, racing back down the aisle of desks until she pressed against the back wall, covering her mouth and looking like she very well might be sick. “You- You-” 

She suddenly leapt over the desk, running towards the door. 

“I have to wash my hands, oh my god, I’m going to throw up-” A handful of her friends ran after her. 

The rest of the class continued to stare at Hongjoong in horror. 

Hongjoong dropped his bag by his desk and sat down heavily, sighing in frustration as he pulled out his notebook, pointedly not looking at anyone who stared holes in his head. 

He would not be their toy. 

He started flipping through yesterday’s notes as the crowd dispersed, moving to the other side of the classroom to talk in their own quiet chatter- probably about him, but Hongjoong wasn’t paying attention. 

Hongjoong did fall still, though, when a pen tapped his arm so gently, he would have missed it if his jacket were any thicker. 

He peeked over through his fingers and found Yeosang looking at him- not quite turned towards him, but it was clear that it was Hongjoong he was trying to address. He almost turned away again, sure that Yeosang had no business talking to him, but Yeosang was looking at him. 

“Can I borrow your notes from yesterday?” Yeosang asked- his voice shockingly quiet and deep- not at all like Hongjoong imagined. “I… left early.” 

His expression was just as inexpressive as ever, but when he spoke it suddenly made him seem a lot more… genuine. 

Hongjoong glanced over at the other half of the class, frowning. “Can’t you get it from one of your friends?” he asked, jerking his head. 

Yeosang’s expression didn’t shift, which was unsettling. He simply stared with dark eyes. “I don’t want their notes,” he said simply, voice level and even. “I usually get them from the teacher, but I didn’t have time to, yesterday.” 

“Why not their notes?” Hongjoong asked, just to be difficult. “I’m sure any one of them would die to give you theirs.” 

Once again… maybe Hongjoong was being unfair, since none of this was Yeosang’s fault, but he was also someone who just sat there and let the things that happened to Hongjoong go on. He never said a word against them. 

Yeosang’s expression finally shifted, turning almost annoyed. “Does it seem like any of them are watching anything but me during class?” he questioned, nearing exasperation. 

Hongjoong might call the comment narcissistic, if it wasn’t so very true. 

He sighed, flipping his pages in his book to yesterday’s notes and handing it over with a sigh. “Here,” he huffed, feeling Yeosang take it. 

“Thanks,” he heard quietly, and then the sound of a phone shutter going off a few times. “Here.” The book was passed onto Hongjoong’s desk. 

Hongjoong hummed, flipping back to the page he was on. “Don’t get used to it,” he said firmly. “I don’t let people copy my work.” 

That wasn’t even because these people were rich- that had always been Hongjoong’s issue. Being the one to do the work while others begged to benefit from it. 

Yeosang hummed quietly. “You’re quite bold.” 

Hongjoong turned to him sharply, glaring angrily, but Yeosang seemed unbothered by it. “I call it ‘not taking shit’,” Hongjoong said sharply. “Do you have a problem with it?” 

Yeosang shrugged, no longer facing Hongjoong, but staring at the photos on his phone. “Should I?” 

“You said I was bold,” Hongjoong said angrily. 

“Why do you assume it was an insult?” Yeosang asked, flipping his phone in his hand. 

“I assume any person around here speaking to me is somehow insulting me,” Hongjoong muttered, feeling his stomach grow hot. “Why are you even talking to me?” 

Yeosang was quiet for a moment, tilting his head as he stared at the dark screen of his phone. “I don’t think you’d understand, even if I told you,” he murmured almost wistfully. 

Was he… 

Was that some sort of jab at his intelligence? 

Hongjoong sat up, turning fully to Yeosang. “What the fuck do you mean by that?” he snapped. 

“Hey!” a boy yelled from the back of class. “Don’t you talk to Yeosang like that, Scholarship!” 

Hongjoong grit his teeth, still staring at Yeosang who wasn’t looking at him. 

“What did you just say to him?” a girl snapped. 

“Are you about to attack him?”

“Kids from the inner city are more than twice as likely to be violent. My father did a study-” 

“Is the scholarship kid really about to try something?” 

“Quiet!” 

Everyone whipped around, the professor standing with a disapproving glare, his papers tucked under his arms. “All of you,” he snapped, “stop this yelling and take your seats!” 

“Scholarship was trying to fight Yeosang!” 

“I won’t have this sort of behavior,” he said firmly, striding to his desk, putting the papers down roughly. “Now, sit down before I inform your parents of this behavior!” 

There was grumbling, but everyone found their seats. 

Hongjoong’s blood burned as the professor stared at him in disapproval, gesturing for Hongjoong to come up. 

Hongjoong stood, hearing how the kids around him snickered as he strode forward. 

“Hongjoong,” Professor Noh said, voice obviously disapproving. 

“I’m sorry,” he said before he could go any further, hanging his head. “It won’t happen again, sir. I’m sorry, I lost my temper.” 

There was a short silence as the professor sighed. “Hongjoong, you’ve likely got a more promising future than most of the kid’s in here,” he said under his breath. “Don’t jeopardize it by getting punished for something stupid.” 

Hongjoong swallowed a thick ball of shame. “Yes, sir,” he murmured, face burning as people began snickering. 

He would not be their toy. 

“This is your only warning,” he said regretfully. “Take your seat, now.” 

Hongjoong nodded, not lifting his head the whole time until he made it back to his desk. He didn’t look at Yeosang. He didn’t lift his head the whole class period, his entire body burning with embarrassment and stares of his classmates. 

He would not be their toy. 

Hongjoong went through the rest of his day with his head down. 

Until Design class. He felt too jittery to use his headphones, and so he could hear everything as he worked. 

And he heard Jung Wooyoung and his friends talking. 

“-serious,” one of them hissed. “My girlfriend’s in the class- he just yelled at Yeosang. Started cursing him out.” 

Hongjoong forced his pencil not to stop, too scared to be seen as hearing them, but he felt his blood burn a little hotter. He hoped it didn’t show on his face. 

“Who would yell at Yeosang?” another questioned. “He doesn’t do anything- What’s Scholarship’s problem?”

“Someone said he was going to get physical with him,” a girl hissed. 

“That sounds really stupid,” Wooyoung’s voice finally came through, low and contemplative. “He’s here on scholarship- any sort of fight would get him either kicked off the scholarship or expelled. Why the hell would he risk it?” 

“Are you saying my girlfriend lied to me?” the boy asked, sounding annoyed. 

“No,” Wooyoung said firmly. “But it just doesn’t seem like it was as dramatic as people make it out to be. Besides, Yeosang can be a real bitch when he chooses to actually open his mouth.” 

The sentence effectively broke the tension in the air, all of them bursting out into laughter. 

“You’re the only one who knows that, Wooyoung,” the boy chuckled, slapping Wooyoung’s shoulder. “I swear, knowing what you know about him must be a surreal experience.” 

“I bet Yeosang was cute when he was younger,” the girl sighed. “Was he cute, Wooyoung?” 

“He’s always been cute,” Wooyoung snorted. “Which meant when he did something wrong, I always got blamed for it. My mom called me in the middle of the night to yell at me because Yeosang left his toys out. I wasn’t anywhere near him all day!” 

It really wasn’t surprising that people knew each other. Business and all that. 

But it was something very startling to think that someone like Yeosang and someone like Wooyoung might have known each other since they were kids. 

Hongjoong nearly sobbed with relief when the class was dismissed, almost sprinting to his dorm room, not even bothering to glance at the crowd he knew would hold Seonghwa’s departure. 

What a shit fucking day. 

He fell on his bed, refusing to cry about it, and simply breathing deeply into the covers. It always sucked being scolded by a teacher, but it sucked more because Hongjoong had, really, been in the wrong. 

He wasn’t even sure that Yeosang meant it in a shitty way, but… But it just sucked. 

Overall, this place wasn’t that bad. But it seemed like every now and then, these people just had to remind him that he was less than them. Worthless, compared to them. 

Nothing but a shiny new toy they were tolerating the presence of. 

Just as Hongjoong was about to drag himself out to begin his homework, his phone rang from his pocket. 

Groaning, he started fishing it out, praying it wasn’t his mom because he didn’t think he could stand to lie about how shitty a day it had been. But he brought it out, glancing at the screen and groaning, shoving his face back into the blanket. 

Tilting his head to breathe, he answered the phone, careful to keep any and all attitude out of his tone. 

“Yes, Auntie?” he asked flatly. 

“Ah, so he finally answers!” she said sarcastically, despite the fact this was the first time she had called in weeks. “So, what about that sum of money you kept promising me you were going to send back for your mother?” she demanded. “Or have you already forgotten about her, moving away to some fancy-”

Hongjoong hit end call, silenced his phone, and shoved his face back in his blanket. 

If God were merciful, he’d make Hongjoong suffocate. 

~~~~~~~

But Hongjoong was nothing if not resilient. 

He went back to classes, didn’t look at anyone, ignored the people who glared at him, and went to work after classes. 

(He checked around corners, searching for weirdly genuine popular students who didn’t understand the concept of being emotionally unavailable.) 

Hongjoong actually liked his work, despite the longer hours that made him lose sleep. It didn’t pay much, but the longer hours made up for it, and it was easy work- restocking the convenience store shelves, greeting customers, ringing up items… 

Most people who came in just wanted to get in and out, which was good, and most weren’t obnoxiously rude, so Hongjoong was grateful for it. Usually, he had plenty of time during his shift to study for any tests he had coming up. 

It was a good deal. 

So, he was studying English, running his finger down the new list of verbs, when he heard the shop bell tinkle. 

“Good evening, welcome-” 

Hongjoong stopped himself as his brain short circuited. 

Seonghwa stood just inside- pristine silky beige button up looking so glaringly out of place among the grill food and packaged chips. 

Seonghwa was here. 

He smiled at Hongjoong, nodding in greeting. 

Hongjoong’s tongue suddenly unstuck from the roof of his mouth. “Did you fucking follow me to my work?” he demanded. 

Seonghwa was walking down the chip aisle (the place was so small, Hongjoong could see everything), humming to himself. 

“I did nothing so underhanded,” He said, frowning at Hongjoong like he couldn’t believe he’d think Seonghwa would do such a thing. 

As if…. He genuinely couldn’t believe Hongjoong thought he would do that. 

As if it had never crossed his mind to even consider following Hongjoong. 

“Then how the hell did you know where I work?” he demanded. “I’ve worked here over a year- I know you’ve never come in here before.” 

Seonghwa idly picked up a bag of chips, reading something on the back. “The store logo is in that apron you were carrying. I saw it while we were talking.” 

“That’s just as bad!” Hongjoong snapped. 

Seonghwa placed the snacks back, glancing over curiously. “Are you going to kick me out?” 

“I’m going to call the fucking cops, is what I’m going to do! That’s stalking!” 

Seonghwa picked up a bottle of fruit water, reading it, too. “Is it stalking that I happen to show up once at a public space that you also happen to occupy?”

“When you admitted that you knew where I worked by an underhanded means? Yeah, ” he snapped, but it lost some of its fire. 

Hongjoong wasn’t actually going to call the police over something like this (he doubted someone like Seonghwa could ever be charged with anything, given his status), but it was annoying. 

And truthfully, Hongjoong didn’t feel uncomfortable or in danger. He was just annoyed. 

Seonghwa seemed harmless, he was just so painfully upper class. So oblivious to the feelings of people outside of his sphere. 

“I didn’t use underhanded means, I just saw it on your uniform.” 

“You should have asked!” Hongjoong pressed, glaring. “Even if you did find out another way.” 

“Would you have told me if I had asked?” Seonghwa moved to the packaged meats, examining a cheese sausage on a stick. 

“No! And you would have respected that, if you were a good person.” 

Seonghwa paused his browsing, glancing up with a slight frown. 

He looked so genuinely, warmly perplexed, as if Hongjoong had broken out into another language that Seonghwa wasn’t aware existed. 

“You’re genuinely upset that I showed up,” Seonghwa said, as if this was just dawning on him. 

Hongjoong couldn’t help it- he had to laugh as Seonghwa continued to frown, as if he might have some divine realization if he stared hard enough. 

“What reaction did you think I would have?” Hongjoong demanded, crossing his arms. 

He no longer sounded pissed, he just thought that for someone as perfect as Seonghwa, he was really fucking oblivious. 

“The last- and basically first- time I ever spoke to you, you were coming on to me,” Hongjoong spelled out for him, because rich people needed that. “I rejected those advances, and you didn’t leave me alone. Only after I basically threatened you, did you stop pushing. And then, only days after that interaction, you’re showing up at the place I work, for who knows what reason-” 

Hongjoong took a breath. 

Seonghwa continued to frown. 

“ -that’s the sort of shit that gets you thrown in the back of a trunk with some sort of drug in your system,” he snapped. “So, no , I’m not really delighted to see you, considering our brief history.” 

He glared. 

Seonghwa continued to frown. 

The bell rang above the door, and Hongjoong looked away, greeting the customer, who simply grabbed a candy bar and brought it to the counter. 

Hongjoong smiled, ignoring Seonghwa for the moment, asking how their day was going- the usual service spiel- and bid them a good day as they left. 

Seonghwa had migrated back to the chip aisle. 

Once the customer left, he glanced at Hongjoong who stared at him sharply. 

Really and truly, Hongjoong didn’t think Seonghwa was being malicious. He was just an oblivious person who wasn’t used to dealing with people like Hongjoong. 

But that didn’t mean Hongjoong was going to let him utilize that ignorance. 

“Are you going to buy anything?” Hongjoong asked, much more level headed than before. “What are you looking for?” 

Seonghwa stared down at the two bags in his hands of different flavored chips. “I’m… deciding,” he said, as if he were faced with a puzzle. “I’ve never had any of these. I don’t know what they taste like.” 

Hongjoong didn’t know how the hell Seonghwa had never had snack chips before, but then he realized that Seonghwa must be used to eating kale chips or some rich shit like that. 

Hongjoong sighed, rubbing at his eyes. 

Really, he couldn’t call Seonghwa a bad person. Just oblivious. 

“What flavors do you like?” he asked tiredly. “Sweet? Salty? Spicy?” 

Seonghwa looked startled by the question, but he shook his head. “I don’t like spicy things. Sweet is good, but I’m craving salty.” 

“Put down the red ones,” Hongjoong sighed quietly, pointing. “They’re really sweet. The others are good, but my favorite are the green ones down there. If you like cheese, the orange one is really popular. There’s also a bulgogi flavored one. It doesn’t taste like it, but it’s a good savory flavor.” 

Seonghwa stared at the shelf, placing back the red package and grabbing one of each of the ones Hongjoong had listed, carrying the armful up to the front. 

Hongjoong was going to make a comment about him being hungry, but decided against it, ringing them up silently. 

Seonghwa fished out his wallet, his expression oddly somber in their silence. 

“Are you really afraid to wind up in the back of a trunk?” Seonghwa asked quietly, staring at the counter. 

Hongjoong paused where he was scanning, glancing up with a frown. “By you?” he questioned. 

Seonghwa shrugged. “In general. Is that something you think about?” 

Hongjoong laughed- quick and sharp, making Seonghwa frown. “It’s something everyone thinks about. You never know what weird person at a bar is gonna be pissed that you rejected them. Or some person walking down the street decides you’re just pretty enough. Or someone who follows you to your workplace after you reject them… that’s the start of a fucking horror film.” 

He scanned the last bag, placing it in a little plastic bag with the others. 

He frowned at Seonghwa, whose expression hadn’t shifted from quiet sobriety. “Is that not something rich people have to worry about?” he asked curiously. “You’ve never been walking around and thought that the person behind you was walking just a little too close?” 

Seonghwa frowned slightly, shrugging almost in confusion. “Well, first of all, I rarely walk anyway-” 

Because, of course. 

“And second,” He continued, something in his face trying to lighten to mood, “if I’m being kidnapped, it’s going to be for another reason entirely.” He handed Hongjoong his card without waiting for the total. 

Hongjoong swiped it, frowning. “Why would you be getting kidnapped?” He handed it back. 

Seonghwa took it, pausing with a deeper frown of bewilderment. “Do you… At the risk of sounding extremely pretentious, but do you not know who my father is?” he asked gently. 

Everything about Seonghwa was just so innocent and genuine, Hongjoong couldn’t believe he wasn’t speaking to a child. 

“I don’t see you, at all,” he reminded Seonghwa. “And the only thing I know about anyone around SIU is through rumors. Why? Should I know who your father is?”

Truthfully, Hongjoong was too poor to know most of the brands and companies most of these people’s families were a part of. Even if Seonghwa did give his father’s name or title, he probably wouldn’t recognize it anyway. 

But Seonghwa laughed. Something a little breathless, a little disbelieving… almost a little relieved. He stared at Hongjoong with eyes that were almost giddy. 

“You really don’t know who my family is?” Seonghwa clarified, looking amused and delighted. 

But Hongjoong didn’t feel like he was being mocked. It was almost like he had said something ridiculously funny without even realizing it. 

“No?” he said, holding Seonghwa’s bags out with a cocked eyebrow of confusion. “Why? Who is he?” 

Seonghwa, though, shook his head, smiling quietly with bright eyes. “No,” he said quietly, taking the bags from Hongjoong’s loose grip. “No, I like it better that you don’t know.” 

It felt like sharing a secret. Like Hongjoong was somehow special for not knowing. 

Seonghwa looked like he was taking a breath of fresh air as he smiled at Hongjoong, bowing respectfully. “Thank you for your service,” he said, rising with eyes that sparkled with excitement. “And your chip recommendations.” 

And then Seonghwa was walking away, pushing open the door and pausing, glancing back with a heavier smile. “Don’t worry,” he assured him. “I won’t bother you at work again.” 

And then he was gone without Hongjoong having the coherency to say a single word. 

Hongjoong didn’t know what the hell just happened. But he knew that it was weird beyond all comprehension. Was he still mad at Seonghwa? 

Honestly, after that conversation… he almost felt bad for him. 

Because it was clear that Seonghwa was missing half a fucking world of information. Which, to be fair, so was Hongjoong. 

They were a Venn Diagram that didn’t touch. Two circles standing next to each other. 

Seonghwa’s circle was overlapping and swallowed up by the other circles of SIU. 

Hongjoong’s still stood alone, never crossing with any of the other circles. But it felt like Seonghwa’s circle had momentarily slid alongside Hongjoong’s. Giving him a brief glance of Seonghwa’s world, and giving Seonghwa a brief glimpse of his. 

If someone as rich as Seonghwa was getting kidnapped, it must be for money purposes, right? 

Hongjoong’s phone felt heavy in his pocket for a moment, the urge to take it overwhelming for a minute. 

Who was Seonghwa’s family? Surely a quick search of his name would tell Hongjoong. It would be that easy. 

But why did Seonghwa look so delighted by Hongjoong not knowing? Why didn’t he tell Hongjoong? Why was it a good thing that Hongjoong not know? It couldn’t be anything bad, right? No one is SIU was part of the goddamn mafia or anything. 

Hongjoong kept his phone in his pocket. 

He wasn’t entirely sure why he didn’t look him up. But he didn’t. Because, yes, he could find out about Seonghwa’s family. But…it wasn’t right to use those underhanded means. Even if it was just coincidental that he see something about his family. 

Good people… didn’t just take that sort of information when it had been previously denied to them. 

~~~~~~~

Hongjoong left his last class and immediately got a call from his mom while strolling through the courtyard. 

Which was concerning. Because he called his mom on the weekends, but it was only Friday, so why was she calling?

Hongjoong froze where he was walking, answering it quickly. 

“Mom?” he asked before she could even get a word in. “What happened? What’s wrong?” 

“ Kim Hongjoong! ” she yelled, making Hongjoong wince. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in?” she demanded. “You’re lucky I’m not down at that school right fucking now- Do you know what I just received in the mail?” 

Hongjoong’s stomach dropped as he tried to think of anything that might have come. Was it about the fight from before? No, no way a college would send that- 

“A fucking check !” she continued before Hongjoong could spiral further. “A fucking check from you, written to me-” 

Hongjoong nearly collapsed onto the sidewalk, one hand clutching his heart in relief. “Mom!” he snapped, stomping his foot angrily. “Don’t start calls like that! You gave me a heart attack! I thought something was wrong!” 

“Something is very much wrong!” she snapped. “I told you I didn’t want you sending me money, Hongjoong- That’s your own money that you earned-” 

“Yeah, and you raised me off of your own money that you earned,” Hongjoong rebutted with their age old argument. 

“You’re my son!”

“And you’re my mom!” he said sharply, kicking at the sidewalk. “I’m serious, Mom- that’s only a little more than half of my paychecks. I still have plenty to live on. We discussed this- all of my bills are covered except for food-” 

“I don’t need my son giving his hard earned money-” 

“Yes, you do,” he returned, his voice dropping slightly. “Mom, you and I both know-” He hesitated, pressing his lips together. “Mom, I want to help,” he said, voice returning to its regular volume. “It’s not even that much money-” 

“Which is why I want you to keep it,” she said firmly, but she, too, had stopped yelling. “Goddamn it, Hongjoong, I don’t want to be a failure-” 

“Who the hell said anything about being a failure?” he demanded, head jerking up, wishing he was home. “Mom, you raised me alone,” he hissed. “On your own. With no one to help you in any way- That’s not failing. I want to help you, Mom. As a way to pay back everything you did-” 

“You’re not supposed to pay it back,” she said, voice turning thick and Hongjoong could practically see her pressing a hand over her eyes like she did when she was stressed. “Hongjoong, you’re not supposed to have to pay back your mother…” 

There was a long silence. 

Hongjoong chewed his lips, staring at the ground and just wanting to be home. His mom… was alone, now. His aunt was right, there. She was actually alone now. 

“I want to, Mom,” he said earnestly, quietly, squeezing the phone. “I really want to. I don’t need all that money. Just… Just take it for now, okay? Let me send you some every now and then. I promise I’m keeping enough for myself, but…. I’ve got my expenses covered. You don’t.” 

Another long silence, and he heard a frustrated sigh on her side as Hongjoong waited. It didn’t matter- he’d send it anyway, but it would make him feel a lot better about it if she did take it. 

He wanted to help. 

He wanted to pay back the most amazing woman he’d ever known. 

Another long sigh. “I hate that I raised such a kind child,” she murmured, voice wet. “How are you so kind, but so foul mouthed?” 

Hongjoong laughed, feeling like he might cry as he kicked at the ground. “I learn from the best, Mom.” 

“I was never that vulgar around you!”

“When my dad was brought up?” he snorted. “Yes, you were. I learned to love and care for everyone, but take no shit, Mom. Isn’t that the lesson you wanted me to have?” 

She chuckled, which lifted Hongjoong’s spirits a fucking lot. “You’re impossible,” she sighed. 

Another long silence as Hongjoong smiled brightly. 

“When’s your next break?” she asked hesitantly, despite the fact that they both knew exactly when it was. 

“Christmas,” he said quietly. “It’s still a few months, Mom.” 

“I know,” she said heavily. “I know, I just… I miss my baby.” 

Hongjoong scoffed. “You can’t call me a baby when I’m taller than you.” 

“By two centimeters.” 

“Mom!” 

She laughed, for real this time, echoing in the phone as Hongjoong huffed. “I love you, sweetheart,” she said through laughter. “I love you, but I should go. I have an appointment.” 

Hongjoong didn’t want her to go. But he nodded. “Okay. I’ll talk to you later, Mom.” 

“Love you, baby.” 

His lips trembled slightly. “Love you, too, Mom…” 

The line went dead as he hung up. Hongjoong lowered his phone. He sighed, straightening and fixing his bag on his back. 

He happened to glance behind him. And what had previous been an empty courtyard now showed Choi San standing a few feet away, staring at Hongjoong with an uninterpretable expression. 

San stared directly at Hongjoong, one hand gripping the strap of his backpack. His jaw was tense. 

Hongjoong stiffened. Was he listening in on their conversation? His eyes darkened as he glared at the boy who was clearly too close to be passing by. 

San seemed unremorseful of the fact he had been eavesdropping. 

“Did you hear everything you wanted to?” Hongjoong snapped, fixing his bag and storming off. 

Choi San didn’t move, but Hongjoong was pretty sure this was the first time he’d ever seen the boy not smiling and laughing. 

~~~~~~~~

Hongjoong was doing homework during lunch. It was annoying without a table to work with, but he would never risk his precious solitude by going over where people actually sat. 

He flipped through his book, finding the reference he needed, but he kept glancing around. 

It felt like someone was watching him. And Hongjoong had gotten quite good at knowing when people were staring at him. He felt the way his skin prickled. But he didn’t see anyone around him. 

He glanced up the final time, glaring, ready to see if someone was hiding in the stupid bushes, but then he looked a little farther than his immediate vicinity, going to stare at the picnic tables along the building. 

He saw Choi San sitting beside Jongho, talking to him. Staring directly at Hongjoong. 

He lowered his eyes as soon as Hongjoong glanced up, speaking to Jongho and glancing back at Hongjoong until Jongho also glanced at him. 

Hongjoong stared pointedly, resisting the urge to get up and confront them. He couldn’t risk another fight, but were they seriously just going to stare at him? 

They continued to act as if they hadn’t been looking, but Hongjoong didn’t glance away. Finally, San lifted his eyes, staring directly at Hongjoong, and this time, San remained staring. 

For the second time, he wasn’t smiling. 

Hongjoong slammed his book shut, grabbing his bag and standing, glaring very obviously at them before storming away, going to find somewhere else. 

He would not be their toy. He would not perform for them. 

Hongjoong had work that evening. It was a late shift- one that he didn’t take often. Usually, he only worked until 10, but because someone had called out sick, so he took their shift to work until 2. 

So, he stood during the dead hours of the morning where no one came in, but one drunk man who wanted a bag of gummies. He stared off into space, too tired to try and study more. He just wanted to sleep. And he knew classes were bound to be hell to stay awake in tomorrow. 

Hongjoong was practically falling asleep, the clock just barely past midnight when the bell above the door tinkled. 

He sat up quickly, jerking awake as he rubbed at his eyes. “Welcome,” he managed through the exhaustion in his throat. 

“Oh.” 

Hongjoong lowered his hands, and found Seonghwa staring at him in surprise. 

Hongjoong stared for several seconds longer than necessary, trying to figure out what was wrong with this picture. 

And then he frowned. “You said you wouldn’t come back.” 

And maybe it was the sleepiness talking, but Hongjoong didn’t find himself annoyed. He just wanted to remind Seonghwa that he had, in fact, told Hongjoong he wouldn’t be coming back. 

Seonghwa winced. “Well, you never work past 10, so I didn’t think you’d be here-” 

“ Why do you know my work schedule?” Hongjoong groaned, placing his face in his hands, running fingers through his hair in exhaustion. 

He wasn’t even annoyed. He was just really fucking tired. And Seonghwa was here. 

Seonghwa merely shrugged. “I just noticed that you were never here when I drove by near midnight-” 

“Were you stalking my work?” Hongjoong sighed, wondering why he was bothering to ask. 

“Your work,” Seonghwa assured him, nodding. “Not you.” 

Oh, that was much better. Hongjoong laughed dryly. 

“I was honoring my promise,” Seonghwa said firmly, eyes tight with honesty. “I…” He glanced away almost bashfully. “I… really liked those chips you recommended. I wanted to get some more. But I planned to come when I thought you wouldn’t be here,” he excused quickly. 

Hongjoong’s fingers tapped the counter lightly as he stared. 

And then he snorted, covering his face with one hand as Seonghwa looked startled. “Seriously?” he demanded, voice shaking with laughter. “Seriously? Why not just go to another store?”

“I didn’t recognize any of the bags and I couldn’t remember the name…” 

“They’re probably different brands,” Hongjoong sighed, feeling like sleep deprivation was making him a little manic as he practically giggled. “Same chip, different look.” 

Seonghwa blinked. “Oh. I didn’t realize…” He wet his lips, glancing away. “I- I’ll be going then-” 

God, the more that Hongjoong spoke to him, the more he just felt bad for the guy. 

“Stop,” Hongjoong sighed, bowing his head to rub through his hair. Seonghwa turned quickly. He gestured him back over. “My manager will kill me if I kick out a customer for nothing,” he told him. “Get your chips and anything else you wanted.” 

Seonghwa hesitated, expression conflicted as he glanced back at the door. “But I make you uncomfortable,” he said, like an alien repeating an answer he had been told was right. 

Hongjoong was too tired for this, groaning long and hard as he let his head hit the counter. He then hit it again just for good measure, trying to clear his foggy brain. 

He sat up slowly, his head smarting as he rubbed at it. Seonghwa looked like Hongjoong had just performed a tribal ritual. 

“You don’t make me uncomfortable,” Hongjoong said evenly, staring at Seonghwa with a little more amusement than annoyance. “I just need you to understand that some of the things you’re doing are questionable.” 

“Questionable enough to make you uncomfortable,” Seonghwa filled in. 

“No,” Hongjoong replied easily, shaking his head with a quiet sigh. “Listen, I’m sorry I was rude before-” He paused. “Not the bit where I told you to fuck off,” he amended. “I meant that one. But, the last time you came in… You’re weird, Seonghwa, but I don’t think you plan to stuff me in a trunk.” 

“ Weird, ” Seonghwa gaped, perfectly sculpted brows rising in shock. 

Hongjoong snorted, shaking his head. “You missed the point, but good job listening,” he chuckled. “Seriously, just get your chips or whatever you came for.” 

Seonghwa still hesitated, and if nothing else, Hongjoong felt a little better knowing that Seonghwa actually would have left, thinking that Hongjoong was uncomfortable. 

Again, not a bad person, it seemed. Just painfully from another world. 

And honestly… it almost felt like trying to teach a kid. Hongjoong had babysat through high school for a while. Like trying to teach the kid that certain things were right and wrong. 

In a child’s mind, it was perfectly fine to hit another kid simply for annoying them. Hongjoong had had to explain why- in the world outside of your own- you had to take other people into account, even if you didn’t understand why it was exactly wrong to do so. 

Seonghwa wasn’t going around hitting people, but he was viewing the world through a child’s eyes: I followed this person to their work because I wanted to talk to them. Why is that bad? I was curious, so I followed them. 

And here, Hongjoong was trying to explain to this grown person that outside of Seonghwa’s own curiosity there were feelings and dangers that people would associate with that, regardless of his intent. 

Seonghwa grabbed only half of his previous haul- the red and green bag- but then turned to Hongjoong, looking apologetic to speak to him. “Do you have recommendations… for something sweet? A dessert?” 

Dear God, he was like a child. 

Hongjoong, however, sighed quietly. “Gummies or chocolates? What flavor?” 

Seonghwa glanced around for a moment before looking at Hongjoong directly. “Strawberry,” he answered with such conviction, Hongjoong laughed again. 

It wasn’t that serious, but Seonghwa was treating convenience store shopping as a battlefield. 

Hongjoong pointed. “We have strawberry milk back there, and strawberry creme rolls in the aisle over. I think the next aisle has some strawberry gummies, and across from them should be fresh strawberries.” 

Seonghwa grabbed one of each. 

This time, Hongjoong chuckled as he placed them all on the counter. “Do you actually eat all this stuff?” he asked as he rang them through. 

Seonghwa looked startled by the sudden addressment, but nodded. “I didn’t actually plan on buying anything the first time I came in here. I always figured convenience stores were rather… dirty.” He winced. “But then the packaging looked intriguing… The chips were… very good. Now, I’m curious about what I’m missing out on.” 

He glanced around the convenience store as if seeing a world of possibilities. 

Hongjoong hummed. “Well, it’s a bit of an acquired taste, but you haven’t lived until you’ve had the bingsu from across the street.” He nodded out the window. 

Seonghwa turned curiously. “Do they have strawberry?” 

Hongjoong chuckled, lips kicking up. “Yeah, they do. My mom used to get a mix of strawberry and blueberry. I always thought it was too sour, but she ate the whole thing everytime.” 

Once more, Seonghwa handed over his card without hearing the total. He stared at Hongjoong as he swiped it, his face holding a curious light, as if Hongjoong was a slowly sharpening image that he still couldn’t quite make out. 

“Why… are you sometimes nice… and sometimes not?” Seonghwa asked gently, his voice so genuinely curious. 

Hongjoong paused where he was gathering the bags, frowning slightly as he glanced at Seonghwa who stood still and stiff… like a statue. 

Hongjoong’s first instinct was to get defensive. But he just sighed, taking the bags and sitting them on the counter. 

“Listen,” Hongjoong said quietly, feeling as if he teaching a child once more. “I’m here for one reason,” he said clearly. “I worked my ass off and almost put my family in debt to get here. I’m here to graduate with a degree that means something, and I can only do that if I make it through this place without failing or getting eaten alive.”

Seonghwa was still staring blankly, processing each word from Hongjoong. 

Hongjoong huffed, running a hand through his forehead. “Look, I’m not stupid,” he said bluntly. “I’m lower than you guys in every way. But I’m not here to make friends, and I never expected to. Not after I saw how these people saw me.” His expression darkened. “I’m nothing but a toy to half these people. Either a toy to laugh at or a piece of garbage that stuck to the bottom of their shoes.” 

Seonghwa’s lips pressed together gently as his brow pulled down ever so slightly. 

Hongjoong pushed the bags forward. “I’m at a disadvantage here in every way,” he said quietly. “And I’m not going to let people think that means they can walk over me. I worked too hard to earn a place they were handed. So, when someone enters into my space in the wrong way, I’m not going to just let them invade it.” 

“Did I… invade your space?” Seonghwa asked carefully. 

“In ways,” Hongjoong said, nodding. “First of all, you followed me, but we addressed that. Before that, though, you asked me out and then kept pushing, even when I said no.” 

“I wasn’t meaning to pressure you,” Seonghwa said quickly. “I was genuinely curious about what you were talking about-” 

“Yeah, I got it,” Hongjoong said, waving a hand. “Someone like you would have never been rejected ever in their lives, but where I’m from- if someone doesn’t take the first ‘no’ as gospel, you have to start defending yourself.” 

“Or the trunk.” 

Jesus Christ. 

“Yes, Seonghwa,” said flatly. “Or you get the trunk.” He sighed quietly. “I don’t hate any of you people. But I know that- and I’ve realized even more after speaking with you- that even without meaning to, you people are always going to see me as something to pass the time, and nothing more.” 

“A-After speaking to me?” Seonghwa demanded, frowning. “When? When did I treat you as something to pass the time?” 

Hongjoong saw nothing but clear confusion in his eyes, startled by how his actions might have been interpreted. “Well, first, you asked me out,” Hongjoong scoffed, smirking as he shook his head. 

“How is that trying to pass the time?” Seonghwa asked in innocent bewilderment. 

Hongjoong snorted, gesturing between the two of them. “Look at us, Seonghwa, and tell me I should assume anyone like you would ever associate with someone like me outside of trying to play around because they’re bored.” 

Seonghwa’s eyes widened as his mouth fell agape. “I- I didn’t-” 

“The power imbalance here is too great, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong said firmly. “There is absolutely no legitimate reason for someone like you to actually want something with commitment with me. I’m poorer than you, nowhere near as handsome, less popular, less influential- you have nothing to gain by being with me. Therefore, the only thing you could possibly gain is entertainment. Which I refuse to provide. That’s not what I’m here for.” 

Hongjoong kept his voice level as he pushed the bags towards Seonghwa, urging him to take them. Seonghwa’s hands caught them as he continued to stare in blatant shock. 

“I- I would never-” He stared at Hongjoong, mouth flapping. 

Hongjoong waited and stared. 

“That wasn’t why I asked you!” Seonghwa finally managed to burst. “Do you only believe in relationships where both parties are mutually beneficial?”

“Yes,” Hongjoong said firmly, eyes narrowing. “Because otherwise it’s not a relationship, it’s a parasite leaching off another, or it’s a predator playing with their food for a while.” 

“That wasn’t what I was intending,” Seonghwa said firmly, squeezing the bags tightly in determination. 

Hongjoong pressed his lips together. 

Once again… not a bag guy. Just really clueless. 

“The reasoning doesn’t matter,” Hongjoong said slowly. “I gave you my answer.” 

“An answer made on false assumptions,” Seonghwa pressed. “Is that fair-” 

“Why don’t you want me to know who your father is?” Hongjoong broke in, arms crossing over his chest. Seonghwa’s mouth clicked shut, looking nervous. 

“Did… did you look him up?” Seonghwa asked slowly, staring at Hongjoong as if he had suddenly pulled a weapon. 

“No,” Hongjoong said flatly. “Because you didn’t give me permission to. Which is the right thing to do when someone refuses you information.” 

“What does that have to do with what we were talking about?” Seonghwa pressed helplessly. 

“Your decision to want to date me is not based on anything but surface appearances and assumptions,” Hongjoong said lowly. “I know nothing about you, and you know nothing about me. You actively do not want me to know certain things about you,” he pointed out. 

Seonghwa flinched. 

“You based your desire off of what you saw of me- which, given that my appearance is the only thing you could possibly know…” He huffed. “That alone means that you can’t possibly be looking for something deeper than a satisfaction to whatever part of me you found most attractive.” 

“That’s not-” 

Hongjoong thrust the receipt at him. “Have a good night, sir.” 

Once more, there was no anger there. Just finality. Hongjoong was finished with this conversation. He couldn’t explain something like this to Seonghwa. They were just too different. 

Seonghwa looked ready to protest, to rebut with something, to continue fighting… but his shoulders fell in surrender as he took the little paper with a quiet expression. 

“Thank you for your service,” he said quietly without another argument, bowing and turning and exiting the shop. 

His head was low. Something almost like regret weighing his shoulders. 

Hongjoong watched him go, stomach unsettled and sick. 

Hongjoong felt a lot more awake than before, but somehow he wanted to sleep more than ever. 

Chapter Text

Hongjoong came out from Sketching with his phone immediately ringing. 

Upon glancing at it, he saw his aunt’s name lighting up his screen and for a moment, he considered just ignoring it. But if he didn’t answer, she’d call his mom and rant to her for hours about her delinquent son, and Hongjoong wouldn’t put her through that. 

He stepped off to the side of the hall. 

“Yes, auntie?” 

“Do you know when the last time you called her mother was, boy?” she demanded shrilly. “Do you know what’s even been going on in your own home? No? Do you even care what happens to your poor mother-” 

“Auntie, what happened?” Hongjoong broke in, not panicking. His aunt would never be calling him in an actual emergency. 

“Don’t interrupt!” she snapped viciously, like a vulture crying out for a carcass. “Your mother fell over this morning!” 

Hongjoong sighed, dropping his head into one hand in frustration. “I already got a text from mom this morning about that, auntie,” he said calmly. “She tripped on the last step going down for work. She wasn’t hurt, she didn’t even bruise herself. She was laughing about it.” 

“And what about next time?” His aunt cried. “What if the next time, she hits her head? Or breaks an arm? What if she can’t get to her phone? Who would find her? No one! Not for days- No one would even notice she was gone! All because you decided to abandon her for a stupid school- ” 

“Auntie,” Hongjoong finally snapped, holding the worst of his anger back. “You are not going to guilt trip me into going back home! Do you think it’s worth it to give up everything my mom gave me to come here?” he hissed. “She paid so much fucking money for me to be here- you want me to just leave? Make it all worthless?” 

“What is money compared to your mother’s life?” she snapped. “Nevermind the emotional ramifications! Depression! Anxiety!” 

The audacity of it lit a fire in Hongjoong’s chest like a bomb going off. 

Hongjoong nearly threw the phone, hissing as quietly as he could, like the pressure of a damn being shoved through a crack. “If you gave a fucking damn about Mom’s mental or physical well being you would have kept your shit brother from beating the shit out of her when you knew it was happening.”

Before Hongjoong could hang up, his aunt fired back- “I have been trying to make up for what my brother did to your mother,” she bit out sharply. “In keeping you with her- Will you leave her like my brother did?”

“Yes, because that’s what children do, ” he snapped under his breath, feeling his chest tighten. “We fucking leave, and then we try and find a way to pay them back for all the shit we put them through.” 

“No, that’s what other families do! Your mother needs you-” 

“I have class. Goodbye, auntie.” 

Hongjoong hung up, running a rough hand through his hair, feeling the urge to punch through a wall as he turned, seriously considering trying to put his fist through the tile- 

Jung Yunho stood behind Hongjoong, looking visibly horrified, a red pencil hanging from his fingertips. 

Hongjoong’s red pencil that he had been using during class. That he must have dropped. 

But Hongjoong glared as he shoved his phone back in his pocket. “Do you people have nothing to do but fucking listen in on people’s conversations?” he hissed, feeling his eyes burning as he turned and stormed down the hall. 

“Hongjoong, wait!” 

He didn’t. He scrubbed at his eyes, feeling humiliated yet again. 

First San hearing his conversation with his mom, talking to Jongho about it, Seonghwa and his stupid ignorance that Hongjoong was too tired to explain, and now Yunho standing there probably having heard the whole fucking thing- 

He was surprised his family and financial issues weren’t the talk of the fucking school. 

It wasn’t their business. 

Why couldn’t rich people just mind their business. 

Hongjoong sat at lunch and refused to cry, scrubbing at his burning eyes and trying not to draw attention to himself as he tried to look like he was studying. 

By the time classes were over, Hongjoong felt like he had been laying out in the sun too long. Tired and heavy, and feeling like his head was way too heavy to hold up- 

He dragged his feet, scrubbing at his face, rubbing at his eyes, running fingers through his hair that was probably a rat’s nest. He was just tired. But he already had three more chapters to read and half an essay to complete. 

He walked through the courtyard, entering the little sidewalk path that led from the courtyard to the dorms. It was shadowed on each side by a building, creating a little alley. 

And it wasn’t until Hongjoong was hidden in the shadows cast by the buildings that he realized someone was right in front of him. 

He lifted his eyes, seeing Seonghwa standing in the path, staring at Hongjoong nervously, at first, and then clearing into concern as he saw Hongjoong’s undoubtedly fucked up appearance. 

“Hongj-” 

“Not now, Seonghwa,” he sighed, walking forward and past him. “I can’t fucking entertain you right now, I’m too fucking tired-” 

A gentle hand caught his arm, pulling him back around and Hongjoong was too tired to do anything more than narrow his eyes in annoyance. 

Seonghwa, however, looked a mixture of angry and concerned. “What happened?” he asked sharply. “Did someone do something?”

Hongjoong stared at him blankly. Stared at his genuine eyes and tight expression, his gentle hold on Hongjoong, the slight anger at Hongjoong’s state. 

He tugged his arm away. “What are you- my protector?” he demanded quietly, shaking his head. “Nothing happened, Seonghwa. I’m tired, I’m going home.” 

He turned away, making it only a single step before Seonghwa’s fingers brushed his arm again. “Wait, Hongjoong-” 

“Can you not take a fucking hint? ” Hongjoong burst, whipping around and practically slapping Seonghwa’s hand away, the other withdrawing it quickly in shock. “Does everything I fucking say to you have to be a goddman threat for you to understand? I’m not fucking playing, Seonghwa- Stop fucking talking to me! I already gave you the only answer you’re going to get! Fuck off!” 

Even as he was yelling, Hongjoong felt the tears of frustration and anger and tiredness building behind his eyes, making him want to run, but he just stood there as Seonghwa stared… 

Stared… almost in hurt. As if Hongjoong had crossed some line. As if he hadn’t expected Hongjoong to ever say something like that. 

As if he were on the verge of apologizing, but didn’t know how. 

“I… I only wanted to give you this,” Seonghwa said quietly, holding something out that he must have gotten out of his pocket.

Hongjoong’s crazy blood quieted as he stared at it through blurred vision and hot tears. 

It was a candy bar and a note, a fancy letter card stuck to the regular chocolate bar with tape. 

Hongjoong stared, swallowing thickly as he realized what Seonghwa had tried to do. 

“I- It was supposed to be an apology,” he explained quickly, like he was afraid Hongjoong would start yelling again. “For… For at the convenience store. I’m sorry I didn’t understand you. I’m sorry that we argued. I wanted to make sure you knew that even if we didn’t really come to any resolution… I didn’t hold any hard feelings.” 

He held the bar out further. 

“I was originally going to get flowers and stuff, but… I think you wouldn’t have taken to that well,” Seonghwa tried to laugh, but it died quickly. “I… I suppose you didn’t quite take well to this one, either…” He stared at the bar, as if considering if he should retract it. 

Hongjoong felt tears falling down his cheeks as he stared helplessly at the little peace offering. 

Seonghwa’s eyes widened the moment he realized Hongjoong was crying. “Hong-” 

“Fuck,” Hongjoong hissed, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes. “ Fuck- ” he cursed sharply, gritting his teeth. “I’m not like this, ” he hissed at Seonghwa, feeling more tears burning their way up. “I’m not-”

He sucked in a sharp breath as Seonghwa took a slow step forward, mouth open as if to speak. 

Hongjoong had spent his entire life being the good kid who took no shit. 

And now, he felt like nothing more than an asshole with social interaction issues. 

“I’m not- I’m not an asshole,” Hongjoong cried harshly, taking his hands away when spots danced in his vision. “I’m not someone who just yells and snaps and is angry all the time- I never wanted to be that fucking person-” 

He took several deep breaths that were way too short as Seonghwa stared helplessly at him. 

“This stupid place, ” he snapped. “This stupid place has made me paranoid, and these people are turning me into something I never fucking wanted to be-” 

He had seen those people. The ones who cursed and snapped over every little thing. Hongjoong never wanted to be that. 

And somehow, it wasn’t poverty that made him that, but being in this stupid upper class. 

A hand caught his arm firmly, but gentle, squeezing tangibly, making Hongjoong look up sharply. 

He probably looked fucking pathetic, especially compared to Seonghwa in his pressed shirt and mussed hair and pretty face and eyes that weren’t swollen and red. 

But Seonghwa’s expression was quiet and oddly empathetic as he stared at Hongjoong. “You’re upset,” he said calmly. “I…” He appeared to flounder for a moment before settling back into calm. “Let’s get you to your room, okay?” 

Hongjoong was focusing on not crying again, and gave no response, but Seonghwa slowly turned him, guiding him down the path to the dorms. 

It was silent into the doors, up the elevator- Hongjoong was so focused on keeping calm, he couldn’t even notice if it was awkward or not. 

He also didn’t bother to question why Seonghwa knew which room was his. 

But Seonghwa paused outside his door, finally releasing Hongjoong’s wrist slowly, staring at Hongjoong with concern as Hongjoong tried not to meet his eyes. 

He didn’t feel humiliated. He just felt shitty. 

This whole weeks had just been too fucking much. 

“Do you… want me to stay with you?” Seonghwa offered carefully when Hongjoong hadn’t moved. “Just until you settle-” 

“No,” Hongjoong said, snapping back into actual awareness as he stared at Seonghwa. “No, you don’t have to, it’s fine, I-” 

Why… are you sometimes nice… and sometimes not?

Hongjoong sighed tiredly, eyes prickling. This was no longer self-preservation. Hongjoong had just dismantled his only excuse. He wasn’t fighting the asshole rich kids, he was just fighting everyone. 

Like looking for reasons to curse them out. Like he just wanted to be angry. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally managed, staring at his feet, not lifting his head. “I’m sorry I snapped at you… I shouldn’t have yelled like that, I just… I’ve just been having a shitty week, and I have some… family issues… I’m trying to work through.” 

It was probably way more than Seonghwa needed to know. But fuck it, everyone else was apparently privy to his issues, so Seonghwa probably deserved to know, too. Especially since Hongjoong had snapped his head off for offering a candy bar. 

“Is there… anything I can do to help?” 

Hongjoong wanted to laugh. But he shook his head. “No, there’s nothing you could help with,” he assured him, glancing up at Seonghwa’s tight expression. Hongjoong stared for a moment longer, feeling oddly disconnected from his body. “Why are you nice to me?” he asked, laughing a little bitterly. “Why are you even talking to me?” 

Seonghwa looked surprised by the question, eyebrows raising, but then it softened into something neutral. “I know that you have a preconceived notion about people like me… from the upper class,” he clarified further. “But not everyone is like the people who make fun of you.” 

“So far, you’re the only person who falls into that category,” Hongjoong huffed quietly. “And you botched it for a while by stalking me.” 

Seonghwa made a face. “I wasn’t stalking,” he defended before returning to serious. “Anyway… I don’t hate you, Hongjoong. And even if I’m confused by you and don’t really understand your point of view… I can understand that the things you’re going though are things that people like me will probably never be able to fully understand. Which means your reactions to them are probably justified.” 

Hongjoong balked for a moment as Seonghwa kicked at the ground. 

“I know why you’re defensive and distrustful of me,” he assured him. “I know why you seclude yourself… But I also think that you’re really nice,” he confessed. “And you’ve intrigued me from the moment I saw you.” 

Hongjoong made to roll his eyes, the moment ruined, but Seonghwa went on quickly, firmly and with confidence. 

“You can’t tell me that you can’t look at someone’s eyes and know whether they’re a good person or not,” Seonghwa pressed. “You could search the faces of the people of this school and know exactly which ones are going to torment or ignore you. You can’t tell me that’s superficial. I didn’t just approach you because you were attractive or something like that-” 

“People can act,” Hongjoong said firmly, eyes hardening. “And the people around here do nothing but play the part of what’s most beneficial to them.” 

“Are you acting?” Seonghwa asked quietly, eyes so brilliantly curious. Innocent. 

Hongjoong’s lips thinned, and he shifted his weight slightly. “No,” he said quietly. “No, I try to never act.” 

Seonghwa made a vague gesture with his hand, as if to say “See my point?” His expression softened slightly. “I understand why you’re distrustful… but I don’t mean you any harm, Hongjoong.” 

And Hongjoong genuinely believed that. 

Like Seonghwa had said, he could see in Seonghwa’s eyes that everything he did was genuine, even if it was colored by that odd formality that seemed to present a wall between him and everyone else. 

But… Hongjoong believed that Seonghwa was a genuine person. 

However… he was an oblivious one. 

“Yeah, I know,” Hongjoong murmured. “And that’s the point. You don’t mean me any harm, but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t happen regardless.” 

“What does that mean?” Seonghwa questioned, eyes darkening with confusion. 

“You live in your world, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong said firmly. “And I live in mine. You don’t know the rules of my world- you didn’t even realize what you were doing was wrong. What else do not know is wrong?” he pressed. “What other parts of my world are you ignorant to?” 

Seonghwa winced, and Hongjoong threw his hands up gently. 

“You seem like a really nice guy, Seonghwa,” he said firmly. “And I think you’re sweet. But whatever it is that you’re hoping to get out of being nice to me… is never going to happen.” 

“Why do you assume I want something out of it?” Seonghwa asked suddenly, frowning deeply. “Why do I have to have ulterior motives?”

Hongjoong was going to say- because all people like you do. 

But that sounded too harsh for the quiet emotions in Hongjoong’s chest. 

“You want something,” he said instead. “Whether it’s company, sex, a fling, something to entertain you- it doesn’t matter how genuine the thing you want is. You’re here to get something. And I can’t give it to you.” 

Seonghwa stared for a moment before running a hand through his hair, messing it further but still leaving it perfect. “Isn’t… Isn’t that what any sort of interaction is?” he asked hesitantly. 

The building creaked around them, Hongjoong’s door remaining shut tight where he hadn’t touched it yet. 

“When you make any friend, or speak to any person- isn’t it always to get something?” he pressed. “Whether it’s because talking to them makes you feel good, or making their day better gives you satisfaction- they may be selfish things you want for yourself, but does that negate the things you want to give them, as well?”

Well… he did have a very philosophical point. 

But Hongjoong had almost failed philosophy in highschool. 

“I don’t want anything you could give me,” Hongjoong assured him quietly, his stomach flipping uncomfortably. 

Seonghwa glanced down at the chocolate bar in his hand, looking back up with slight hurt in his eyes. “Do you not think I’m genuine when I say I’d like to get to know you?” Seonghwa asked quietly. 

Hongjoong sucked in a sharp breath, holding it while Seonghwa stared at him with the eyes of a puppy. 

“I think you’re genuine,” Hongjoong assured him. “But there’s no way it would work out. And like I said, I’m not emotionally available right now-” 

“You said that about dating,” Seonghwa broke in gently. “I’m only trying to be your friend, Hongjoong.” 

Be his friend. 

Hongjoong wanted to laugh. No, he did not want to make friends here. 

Why? Because… Well, because they were all assholes. Well, Seonghwa wasn’t an asshole. He was nice. But he still couldn’t be friends because they were too different. 

Even though Hongjoong had been best friends in middle school with a jock, who was about as different from Hongjoong as you could get. 

He didn’t want to befriend Seonghwa, though, because…. 

Well, just because. 

“I don’t have time for friends, Seonghwa,” he pressed, more firm as his arms crossed over his chest defensively. “I’ve got school and studying and work- I don’t have time to be hanging out with people.” 

“What about study dates?” Seonghwa questioned genuinely. “Or lunch? You can’t honestly say that all of your time is taken up by school…” 

In any other person on this planet… Hongjoong might have decked them already for being so fucking insistent. 

But Seonghwa seemed so earnest. 

Like he just wanted a quick piece of Hongjoong’s time. Just a little, for both of them. As if Hongjoong would be doing him a service by spending time with him. 

“To keep up my grades, yes, most of it is studying,” Hongjoong assured him. “Seonghwa, you can’t-” 

“Eat lunch with me tomorrow.” 

He broke off, staring at Seonghwa like he was insane. “What?”

“Eat lunch with me tomorrow,” Seonghwa requested earnestly. “As a test run. A trial. Give it a chance before you say it’s never going to happen.” 

Saying it would never happen would save him so much time, though. 

Hongjoong shook his head. “I’m not interested in spending my one free period sitting at a table with people sending me death threats, thanks, I get enough of that in class.” 

“I don’t eat with everyone else at lunch,” Seonghwa assured him, eyes brightening at the prospect of providing evidence against Hongjoong’s excuse. “I eat in a classroom in the first hall.” 

Hongjoong frowned. As far as he knew, eating was only permitted in the cafeteria or courtyard. “Why?” he asked incredulously. 

Seonghwa looked almost guilty for a moment, glancing away as if trying to find an excuse- 

“I want some alone time, too,” Seonghwa admitted quietly, glancing up. “It…” He stared at Hongjoong, as if gauging how much he could trust him. 

Hongjoong would never say it out loud, but… if Seonghwa told him a secret… he could trust Hongjoong to keep it. He may not be eager, but he knew how to keep his mouth shut. 

“I’m not actually close friends with a lot of the people you see around me,” He confessed quietly, glancing around like one of them might hear. “They’re children of business partners that I have to play nice with. Don’t get me wrong, they’re nice and lovely to be around,” he assured him. 

He glanced at the floor again. 

Hongjoong… almost felt bad for him. 

“But, I like to have a free period as well,” Seonghwa confessed. “Lunch is the one time I don’t have to entertain them.” 

Hongjoong clenched his fist as pity began to stir in his stomach. 

He remembered his mom getting back from the grocery store… after a 10 hour shift of constant smiling and being polite, even among those who snapped and cursed at her. Never allowed to show a negative emotion- and she could come home, drained and tired, but still trying to smile for Hongjoong when he was younger. 

Social interaction, especially those that followed a strict set of rules, was one of the most exhausting things- Hongjoong knew this, too, because of the convenience store. 

He cocked his head. “And you want me to intrude on your little alone time?” he clarified. 

Seonghwa’s lips quirked, something warm and genuine there. “I don’t think I would mind you taking up any of my time,” he assured him quietly. “But, we can consider this a trial run for me, too, if you accept.” 

Hongjoong was tired. He was already out here longer than he wanted to be. And honestly, even if his pride told him to keep refusing… 

Fuck it, Seonghwa wasn’t awful, it was only a little over an hour long for lunch, and Hongjoong didn’t care enough about politeness not to walk out if things got uncomfortable. 

Fuck it, if it meant he could take a nap before beginning homework, fine. 

He sighed, letting his arms fall from before his chest. “Fine,” he muttered, hanging his head. “I’ll do a trial.” 

When he glanced up, Seonghwa looked pleased, but his eyes shone brighter than the emotions on his face- as if he was carefully keeping his excitement contained. 

His expression was something softer. “Thank you for giving me a chance,” he said honestly, once again, as if Hongjoong was doing him a service. 

Hongjoong looked away, not wanting to bother with conversation any more. “Whatever. I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow, I guess.” He pushed open the door to his dorm- 

“Hongjoong.” 

He glanced back once more, Seonghwa staring at the chocolate bar in Hongjoong’s hand. 

“That envelope,” Seonghwa explained, wincing. “It’s an invitation to a party going on in the auditorium this weekend- for Fall Festival,” he said. “I… I put it on, in case you wanted to go, but… Just ignore it,” he pressed. “I- I don’t think you’d like it very much… You can go if you want, but…Don’t feel pressured.” 

Hongjoong glanced down at it, sighing. “Yeah, parties aren’t really my thing. Thanks for the candy, though, I guess,” he murmured, not meeting Seonghwa’s eyes. 

He closed the door between them without another word passing. 

Strangely, he was leagues less annoyed than he intended to be at the end of the conversation. 

~~~~~~~~

Hongjoong didn’t look at Yeosang throughout the entirety of English, but he could feel Yeosang staring at him from the corner of his eye. 

He did his work in Sketching diligently, but still felt Yunho (he checked by pretending to search his bag) staring at him with furrowed brows. 

Lunchtime came- Hongjoong’s stomach alarmingly calm, despite what was supposed to be happening. He didn’t think it had really sunk in, though. 

And… really… he wasn’t dreading it too much. 

The part of him he kept wrestling with was that Seonghwa seemed like a genuinely good guy… but Hongjoong just couldn’t take the risks that came along with anyone here. 

Not that he was even considering dating Seonghwa because no way- things were too weird with him. But even just having him as a friend already seemed like more effort and trouble than Hongjoong was capable of giving. 

But, regardless, Hongjoong sighed, taking his little bag of lunch and walking away from the cafeteria, down the first hall. As far as he knew, these were special classrooms, meant to only hold a few people. The tour guide mentioned something about the school having too many students to use such small rooms, though. 

He realized as he stood there, that Seonghwa had not given any specific classroom to meet in. However, confusion was not the only reason he froze- staring a few doors down and seeing a man in a black suit standing at a door. 

He turned as soon as Hongjoong entered the empty hall, dark sunglasses hiding most of his displeased expression. Hongjoong froze, terrified for a moment that he was about to get in trouble for being where he wasn’t supposed to. 

But the man straightened. “Are you Kim Hongjoong?” he asked, voice deep and booming. 

Hongjoong almost denied it and ran. But he swallowed, stepping forward cautiously. “Um… yeah,” he answered, glancing at the man. “I- Seonghwa… A guy invited me to lunch in this hall… but I’m not sure-” 

“I.D.,” the man said briskly, holding out a hand. 

Hongjoong startled, blinking. “My- My I.D.?” he questioned. “Why do you-” 

The door suddenly shoved open, making the man step aside, looking annoyed. 

Seonghwa’s face appeared, smiling at Hongjoong before looking at the man distastefully. “I told you to just let him in,” he said under his breath. He turned back to Hongjoong, smiling brightly. “Come in- Did you get lost?” 

Hongjoong stepped forward, eyeing the man who watched him darkly as he stepped over towards Seonghwa- 

A hand caught him in the chest, pushing him back a step. “Are you carrying anything on you?” the man asked. 

Hongjoong floundered for a moment- trying to figure out if the man was actually talking about weapons of some sort- 

Seonghwa shoved the man’s hand off of him, glaring. “He’s fine,” he said sharply. “Focus your attention on the people who actually aren’t supposed to be here.” 

The man looked pissed, but Seonghwa yanked Hongjoong inside before he could be stopped again, slamming the door shut and locking it pointedly. 

“Sorry,” Seonghwa muttered, looking annoyed. “I told him to just let you in when you came- he’s such a hardass.” 

Hongjoong’s heart was beating a little fast as he frowned at the door. “You value your alone time so much, you have an armed guard at the door?” 

Seonghwa winced. “Uh, well… I suppose if that’s how you’d like to think of it, then yes,” he said, rubbing at his neck. “He just… makes sure no one tries to sneak in and bother us.” 

He frowned deeper, turning to glance at Seonghwa. “Us?” 

As he turned, however, he noticed the four other people in the room. 

Sitting in desks arranged in a circle were Yeosang, Yunho, Wooyoung, and Jongho- all of them with trays of food (in Jongho’s case, also holding a textbook in his lap), and all of them staring at him silently with varying degrees of indifference and wariness. 

Hongjoong’s gut immediately screamed that he had been set up. It was a prank or a trick or something, meant to embarrass him in front of all of those people he saw around. 

But no one was laughing. Or grinning. Or sitting with anticipation. 

They almost stared at Hongjoong with fear- as if he was the one invading their space. 

Hongjoong slowly turned to look back at Seonghwa who was bracing himself- everything in his expression apologetic and hesitant. 

“This,” Hongjoong said slowly, “is a very crowded alone time…” 

“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa said quietly- clearly intending to keep the conversation between them. “I’m sorry- I was afraid that you’d refuse if you knew others would be here.” 

“So you lied?” Hongjoong snapped, not bothering to show the same courtesy with his voice. 

“I- I didn’t want you to say no because of your misconceptions,” Seonghwa said hurriedly, fingers twisting. “I know that you hate everyone here- but these people don’t hate you, Hongjoong,” he said almost desperately. “They’re not like the other people here.” 

How would Seonghwa know about what the people here were like? 

At best, they were genuinely nice to him because of who he was, and at worst, he was fooled by their stupid acting and buttering actions. 

“The same people you hug and say goodbye to everyday,” Hongjoong said lowly, “are the same ones looking at me as if I crawled out of a dumpster. I’m sorry if I don’t take your word.” 

“You think we don’t see it?”

Hongjoong turned at the sudden voice, seeing Yunho staring at him with that strange expression from weeks ago- apologetic, as if he had something more to say but couldn’t bring himself to. 

“You think we don’t see the way they treat you for nothing else but being different?” Yunho prompted, voice firm but clearly not meant to attack. “We know that they’re shaking hands with one hand and slapping you with the other. We see their true colors, Hongjoong- we aren’t ignorant.” 

Hongjoong’s shoulders rose with the anger that warmed his blood. “And you don’t see a problem with that?” he demanded quietly. “With seeing everything that happens and not doing anything to stop it?” 

There was a long pause- all of them staring at him a bit more seriously now, expressions drawn into either tight regret or an almost quiet anger returned at him. 

“We don’t know you that well,” Wooyoung finally said- voice more serious than Hongjoong had ever heard it. “And you don’t know us. It’s gonna piss you off to hear it, but you’ve got a lot more freedom than any of us have, Hongjoong.” 

It felt weird to hear them say his name. To be addressed by them, rather than just being a background character in their lives. 

As if they had seen him as much as he saw them. 

“Maybe we outrank you in every category,” Wooyoung allowed, nodding. “But you have a freedom that none of us have- and that’s the freedom to do and say as you like.” 

Hongjoong scoffed, clicking his tongue at the ridiculousness of it. “Everyone has the freedom to do the right thing,” he said, glaring. “All of you know exactly what those other kids do- you could stop them, if you wanted. They would listen to you. But you choose to do nothing.” 

“We have the physical freedom,” Jongho said, nodding with a dark expression. “But the consequences of our actions carry out much farther than yours. Your actions affect only yourself. Maybe your family. Ours can travel through multimillionaire companies.” 

Before Hongjoong could scoff, Yunho spoke again, quickly adding in. “We can’t risk pissing off the wrong person,” he said firmly. “We carry our families’ brands with us- we don’t work for the company yet, but all of us are the constant PR that they put out into the world.” 

“We make more deals than our parents ever will,” Wooyoung pressed. “And when we make enemies, our families lose clients, and that’s a loss that runs through an entire company, Hongjoong. All tracing back to us…” 

Hongjoong wanted to argue. To snap that they shouldn’t be afraid of the consequences of doing the right thing. 

“Even you have to know what that’s like,” Jongho murmured. “Carrying the weight of expectations? Afraid to drop it? Maybe our consequences don’t seem big enough to you… But in our eyes, getting expelled from this place is the least of our concerns. It seems stupid to worry about it, compared to everything else. It’s all a matter of perspective.” 

Hongjoong stared, one fist curled tight around his lunch. 

His pride told him to continue to fight. But he shoved it down. 

This was a taste of his own medicine, wasn’t it? 

Being forced to face the fact that… they were from different worlds. And different things held meaning for them. Different things were important. 

It was shitty for them to assume Hongjoong’s plights and concerns were stupid. 

And… it was shitty for Hongjoong to judge them based on what they considered to be a horrible consequence… 

He swallowed, staring at them, not really knowing what to do. 

A gentle hand touched his arm, making him glance back at Seonghwa who smiled nervously. “Will you stay and eat? Lunch is almost halfway over.” 

Hongjoong glanced back at the other group, half-wondering whether or not they would want someone like him to hang out- 

Yunho gestured across their little circle to the only empty desk- clearly meant for Hongjoong- and he smiled quietly, almost embarrassedly. 

The others made no move to discourage him from sitting, Wooyoung cocking up the corner of his lip as Jongho returned to reading. 

Yeosang had been silent the whole time, only continuing to stare passively, curiously. 

Hongjoong stared at their fancy sushi and rice dishes, glancing down at his crumbled bag of kimbap and leftover kimchi his mom had sent him. 

“Please?” Seonghwa added on, looking genuinely worried Hongjoong would walk out. 

And if it weren’t for his bruised pride, he might have. But with the realization that… maybe they both had some prejudices… 

He sighed, walking to the empty desk and sitting in it stiffly. 

Seonghwa took the other desk beside him, his tray already waiting on it, smiling quietly. Hongjoong didn’t meet anyone’s gaze, unpacking his lunch. 

“You bring your own lunch?” Yunho’s voice asked- his large body leaning over the edge of the desk to see what Hongjoong was bringing out. 

Hongjoong nearly hid his food. He wasn’t embarrassed to be eating this stuff, but he would not be a sideshow attraction for them to gawk at. 

But Yunho stared in genuine interest- Jongho glancing up from his book to peer at it. 

Hongjoong forcibly took a breath to violently shove back the anger that tried to rise in their presence. 

Seonghwa seemed like a genuinely nice person. And really… Yeosang hadn’t really done anything to piss him off, and Yunho seemed innocent of any sort of crime- Wooyoung was just a prankster, and Jongho just looked like a regular quiet kid without social skills. 

None of them… really looked or acted much like the assholes around them. 

And really, the fact that they were allowing Hongjoong to be here was proof enough that they were at least better than most of this school. So he shoved down his defensive anger. 

He didn’t want to be so angry all the time. 

He was tired of feeling so angry. His mom had always called him a happy kid- someone who just ran around with energy to spare and smiles to match. He didn’t want to let the world turn him into one of those people- bitter and angry at every turn. 

So he swallowed it all, his expression neutral but not angry as he nodded. 

“Yeah. Just some stuff I had leftover in the fridge.” 

“You made it yourself?” Wooyoung questioned, also leaning to get a closer look at the little container of kimchi. 

“My mom made the kimchi, but I made the kimbap,” Hongjoong explained. 

They continued to stare. His mom always made the most perfect kimbap. 

His were nowhere near as pretty, but he swallowed and made the same offer he always made in elementary school “Want… Want to try a piece?” he offered. 

He half-expected them to wince, politely declining the clearly subpar food, but Yunho took his napkin and placed two sushis in it, holding it out. “Here, we’ll trade,” he said, looking excited. 

Hongjoong didn’t even bother trying to refuse, simply shrugging and passing over a few pieces for them to share- about half of what he’d brought. But to make up for it, he had four pieces of sushi, a rice ball, some salad, and a cookie. 

Hongjoong hadn’t traded lunches since elementary school. 

“It tastes different then I’m used to,” Wooyoung noted around a mouthful, looking confused. “What meat did you use?” 

“Just whatever was discounted,” Hongjoong said, shrugging. “I think that’s just some beef steak.” 

He hoped to God none of these people tried to sue him for food poisoning. 

“It’s good!” Yunho said. “Our chef always makes it bland, but there’s so much salt in this!” He said it like there was no higher compliment he could give. 

Hongjoong chuckled nervously, noticing Seonghwa watching him carefully, not even bothering with his own lunch. Hongjoong turned to him, raising a curious- not quite annoyed- eyebrow. 

Seonghwa, however, smiled gently. “Are they being too much?” he asked quietly. “I can ask them to back off.” 

Hongjoong actually snorted, giving Seonghwa a look that questioned his intelligence. “You think I wouldn’t tell them to fuck off myself?” 

Seonghwa looked startled. “No- I just- I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable-” 

Hongjoong huffed a laugh, shaking his head. 

It was almost- almost, very much almost- cute, to see how concerned Seonghwa seemed to be. Seeing someone so very high on the food chain flustered around someone like Hongjoong… 

It was acknowledged and then promptly shoved away as Hongjoong gave him a pointed look. “I can handle it, don’t worry,” he hummed.

He turned back and began to eat his food (very pointedly not making any sort of noise, no matter how fucking delicate and good the sushi he ate was).  

“Did you start your essay yet for Design?” Wooyoung asked, breaking away from everyone else’s conversation, staring directly at Hongjoong. 

He nodded. “I just have to finish my citations.” 

Wooyoung’s face curled in distaste. “It’s not due for another week.” 

Hongjoong lifted an eyebrow. “And?”

Wooyoung glanced at Yeosang. “He’s one of your type,” he muttered. 

“I finish my work early, too,” Jongho said firmly, looking offended. 

“Your older brother would beat your ass if you didn’t,” Wooyougn snickered. “They’re just doing it for fun.” 

Hongjoong glanced at Yeosang who was still just staring passively. “How did you do on the English test?” he asked when nothing else was being said. 

Yeosang shrugged. “Got a C. But I passed.” He casted a knowing gaze on Hongjoong. “I bet you got an A.” 

Despite being right, Hongjoong felt his nerves bristle. “Why do you say that?” 

“Your notes,” Yeosang said, taking his final cookie and nibbling on it. “You’re probably the only person in that class who’s actually doing well.” 

“I highly doubt that,” Hongjoong snorted. “I’ve heard a bunch of people talking about going to tutors. I’m not the only one doing well.” 

“They talk about needing tutors,” Yeosang corrected. “Unless their parents push for it, none of them are going to go.” 

Hongjoong frowned. “There’s no way they can’t afford to go.” 

“Ah, and here comes the problem with the class struggle,” Wooyoung chuckled. “Anyone who can afford the resources is too lazy to use them. Rich people are lazy, dude.” 

“Barely anyone here has a future riding on how well they do in school,” Yunho said, shrugging. “Unlike you, who has to do well if you want to stay. By all accounts, you’re probably going to graduate as valedictorian here.” 

“Well, maybe Seonghwa will be salutatorian,” Jongho snickered, glancing at the other. 

Hongjoong glanced at him, and found Seonghwa glaring at Jongho, his expression softening when Hongjoong looked over. “Your parents are on you about your grades?” he questioned. 

Seonghwa pressed his lips together tightly, looking slightly uncomfortable. As if he had suddenly been backed into a corner. “More like the profession I’m taking over for requires that I not be an idiot,” he said, a tight smile on his lips. 

Hongjoong’s expression fell slightly at the reaction. “The profession that you don’t want me to know about?” 

Seonghwa winced. “It’s not that I don’t want you to know, it’s just-” He hesitated, and Hongjoong… once again felt bad for him. 

However… regardless of what Seonghwa’s family did… Hongjoong knew what wanting to keep something secret looked like. 

“I get it,” he said, nodding. “It’s not like it matters anyway. You probably don’t know what my mom does, anyway. So I guess we’re even.” 

“Um…” 

Seonghwa had opened his mouth to speak, but it was Yunho who spoke up, looking nervous. 

Hongjoong wasn’t sure if he was talking to him, but Yunho winced. “Um, speaking of… That day Donghun messed up your drawing? I- I should have stopped him, but I swear I didn’t have anything to do with it. I tried to tell him to just leave it, but-” 

His voice died out at Hongjoong’s expression staring at him questionably. 

Yunho glanced around, and Hongjoong frowned. “Do you really care what I think so badly?” 

“Wouldn’t you?” Yunho asked without missing a beat. “If someone thought something wrong about you?”

Touche. Hongjoong winced at yet another brash response from himself. 

“And I really was coming to return your pencil,” Yunho went on quickly, looking like he had been waiting to get this out for a while. “I didn’t hear your whole conversation on the phone- Just… Just a little part of it. I just… didn’t think to turn away. I wanted to give back your pencil.” 

Oh, right. That incident. 

Hongjoong felt a war inside of him. The part of him that wanted to get angry again… and the part of him that was so tired of being angry. 

He sighed, rubbing at his cheek absently. “It’s whatever,” he muttered. “It’s not that big a deal. I don’t care who the fuck knows- I’m not ashamed of it.” 

Who didn’t have family issues? If someone had a problem with it, they could fucking take it up with Hongjoong. 

But Yunho was still looking around nervously. Like there was something else he was holding onto. Hongjoong lifted an eyebrow, unable to think of another incident he might want to bring up. 

Yunho wet his lips. “So… That was real?” he asked quietly, despite the fact that everyone was listening. “About… your dad?” 

Hongjoong had forgotten that that had been mentioned- only thinking about his aunt being an ass and him yelling at her. 

His stomach dropped, thrown for a moment and trying to orient himself once more. It wasn’t startling- but Hongjoong just wasn’t used to people bringing it up outside his family. Much less here. 

Among five strangers. 

He set his jaw, though- unembarrassed and unapologetic. “Yeah,” he said, watching how Yeosang exchanged slightly confused glances with Wooyoung, feeling Seonghwa’s gaze burning into his cheek. 

Yunho’s jaw tightened, looking stricken. 

Hongjoong huffed, leaning back in the seat. “He’s talking about my dad abusing my mom for two years before he left us.” 

All five of them fell still- no dramatic gasps or watery eyes. Just silent, heavy gazes automatically understand the weight of the situation. 

“Their marriage had been going downhill since my mom got pregnant with me,” he said, the words rote and numb on his tongue. “He started getting physical with her after I was born. He was gone by the time I was four. I don’t even remember him, and quite frankly I don’t fucking want to.” 

Hongjoong had never held any interest in meeting his father- no matter how many times his mom said she would understand if he was curious. 

He didn’t care to meet someone who would do that to another person. 

Hongjoong glanced around at their somber faces. “It literally doesn’t bother me that he left,” he assured them. “And my mom moved on from him quicker than I did.” 

“She raised you herself?” Seonghwa questioned carefully. 

Hongjoong nodded, feeling his lips twitch. “We only had each other growing up. It was pretty sweet.” 

Because no matter how bad things had gotten… he always had her. 

“Did you-” 

Jongho’s question was cut off by the bell ringing through the compound, startling Hongjoong who had lost track of time. 

He quickly gathered his things, the others picking up their trash and trays. 

Seonghwa touched Hongjoong’s elbow gently to gain his attention, somber face opened into something more welcoming. “You’re welcome to join us whenever you like,” he offered quietly. “And we won’t bring up anything you don’t want us to.” 

Hongjoong honestly didn’t know what his plans were- but he nodded, wanting to get to his next class quickly. “Sure. Maybe. I’ll-” 

He glanced around at these people who had no presence in his life but in the background, suddenly placed before him- knowing one of his most intimate moments. 

Life was funny like that, huh?

“I’ll see you guys later, I guess,” he said, trying for a smile. 

It was awkward and tight. Yunho and Wooyoung returned it, Yeosang simply nodding and Jongho offering a small wave. 

Hongjoong did not run away, but it was a little close to it. 

~~~~~~~~

Hongjoong had one goal right now: graduate and get a job with enough money to take care of his mom. Anything that threatened that (be it his aunt or his grades) had to be taken care of. 

And right now, friends were something that would most definitely jeopardize that. 

Hongjoong was social. He was a little awkward, but he had always had plenty of friends who liked hanging out, joking around, knowing everything going on his life- 

He missed that. 

Missed having someone on his side. Missed not feeling like it was just him against the world. His mom was hours away, his friends had all moved on, and Hongjoong was left with nothing but schoolwork and assholes to occupy his time. 

But… 

But Seonghwa was nice. The others were nice. 

Maybe they operated on slightly different wavelengths, but in a single lunch period, Hongjoong had unlocked the part of him he had resolutely tried to lock up. 

He was tired of being alone. In a stupid dorm with too much space and nothing to fill it. In a college of hundreds of kids but not a single person to meet up with. In his own head that was darkened by loneliness and a fear of being nothing but a performer, without anything but more darkness to distract it. 

Hongjoong called his mom, just to hear a familiar voice- asking her to just talk about her day, just to kill some time. She knew something was wrong, but didn’t push him on it. It wasn’t until they were nearly having to say goodbye that Hongjoong managed to unstick his throat. 

“There’s some kids here,” He said thickly. “A few in my classes… They offered to let me eat lunch with them.” 

His mother had simply hummed, knowing there was a reason he wasn’t excited. 

“I don’t know what to do, Mom,” he sighed, curled up in his bed with the phone to his ear. “I… I think they’re good people, but what if they’re not? What if my grades start slipping? What if things just get shittier-” 

“Sweetheart,” his mother tisked, like she always did when he would rant about all the terrible things that could happen at any given moment. “I’ve never met someone with a better judge of character than you,” she murmured comfortingly. “If you think they’re good people… I think maybe it’ll be okay.” 

Hongjoong was so tired of being alone. 

But he was scared of what might happen. 

“And always remember,” she said firmly, voice warm. “Give me one call, and I’ll have five boys’ heads on your doorstep by the next morning, honey.” 

Hongjoong laughed, feeling tears welling in his eyes, but managing to keep them out of his voice. “One of them is that stalker guy I told you about,” he chuckled. 

“He is?” she gasped, and he could practically see her clutching her chest. “The one who wanted to ask you out?”

He hummed in affirmation. 

“Now, listen here, young man,” she said jokingly, “I signed off on you getting friends, not a boyfriend.” 

He laughed quietly, chest tightening. “Don’t worry, that’s not happening,” he assured her. “If I don’t have time for friends, I definitely don’t have time for a boyfriend.” He huffed. “Plus, there’s a million other people in this school that suit him a lot better than me.” 

“Say that again, and I’ll drive over just to whoop you with my rice paddle,” she said fiercely, voice closer to the phone. “If anyone at that college implies that my baby is worth less than them, I’ll-” 

“He doesn’t think that, Mom,” Hongjoong chuckled, leaning back a little on his bed. “He… actually seems to think that I’m… special, I think. He talks in riddles a bit, but… I think he really is interested in me…” 

“Are you gonna give him a chance?” she asked, voice curious and a little hopeful. 

She was also tired of Hongjoong being alone. 

He hummed. “I really don’t think so. Even if he is being genuine… I don’t think I want a relationship right now.” 

“Don’t want a relationship right now?” his mom asked slowly. “Or don’t think you could deal with it ending badly right now?”

Hongjoong felt the familiar nail in his chest as his mother hit it on the head, wincing. “Both,” he said instead of trying to defend himself. “I’ve got too many things to focus on right now, Mom.” 

“I know, I know,” she assured him. “But you had that boyfriend- What’s his name? Younghoon? You passed all your high school entrance exams while dating him.” She spoke on before he could break in. “All I’m saying, sweetheart, is that you’re better at this than you think. I just don’t want you to think you’re trapped by this place, okay?” 

Hongjoong laughed weakly, dropping his head to rest against his knees. “I’m not trapped by this place, Mom. I just…” 

She was silent, waiting patiently. 

“I just… want to make sure I know what I’m getting into.” 

~~~~~~~

Hongjoong… did not go back to the classroom during lunch. 

It felt weird going straight back, so he passed it up, walking through the cafeteria-

“Hongjoong.” 

He turned, not expecting someone to be talking to him- 

San stared at him, standing beside him with a tray. Hongjoong was startled to find him so close, but San smiled hesitantly- not at all like the usual brightness he held. 

And not like the expression when Hongjoong had caught him listening to his conversation. 

“What?” he asked, annoyed by reflex, wincing at how harsh it came out. 

San gestured towards the door of the first hallway. “You… aren’t going to join us in the classroom?” he asked carefully. 

He frowned. “You eat with them, too?”

“Mingi and I both do,” San assured him. “We’re not in there as often, but… I thought I’d join, since they said you might be there.” 

“Why do you want me there?” Hongjoong asked, succeeding in coming across as curious and not aggressive. 

San glanced behind him, at the tables of boys and girls who were usually screaming for him. “I’ll explain in the classroom?” he offered, grimacing, looking hopeful that Hongjoong might agree. 

Hongjoong hesitated. It was so easy to get overwhelmed by so many people who were so different from him. 

But… he truly believed that none of them meant him any harm. 

He sighed quietly. “Fine,” he muttered. “I need to read a chapter, though.” 

San’s smile brightened- still less vibrant than in the middle of a crowd, but this one seemed… deeper. Not more genuine, but… like it held more behind it. 

They passed through the doors into the first hall, and San paused, uncaring of the suited man standing outside the door. 

“I wanted to apologize,” he said quickly. “For the other day, when I listened to you on the phone.” 

Oh. 

“I didn’t mean to stop,” San said firmly. “And I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but I heard you talking to someone and you were fired up about it-” He hesitated. “But… you call the other person ‘mom’ and I… I wanted to make sure I’d heard right. I… I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone… talk to their moms like that. I was curious.” 

Hongjoong knew that his relationship with his mom was a little more informal than some considered normal. His friends had always been envious that Hongjoong had a “cool mom.” He just… thought of her as “mom.” 

Hongjoong stamped down the part of him that wanted to get angry about being ogled… but San didn’t look like he meant it that way. 

“It’s whatever,” he sighed quietly. “I guess if I’m having an argument on the phone in public, I should expect people to eavesdrop. Hell, I probably would have done the same thing….” 

Hongjoong winced as he realized that maybe he needed to stop seeing every action of these people as a personal attack against him. 

San nodded. “I’m still sorry. It was clear that the conversation was discussing more personal matters, and I shouldn’t have stuck my nose in it.” 

Hongjoong nearly swallowed his tongue when San bowed to him in apology. 

“D-Don’t- Don’t do that,” Hongjoong said quickly, shoving San back into a standing position with San looking startled at the action. “Look,” he said firmly. “I accept your apology. I overreacted, and you eavesdropped. We both made mistakes, so let’s just… move on, okay?” 

San still looked surprised by the easy forgiveness, but he slowly nodded. “Yeah… okay.” 

Hongjoong nodded firmly, and continued their walk, a little weirded out by the whole interaction, but… once again, he was oddly surprised that either Yunho or San had bothered to apologize. 

And a little confused as to why they waited so long to do it, when it was clear they held real regret for it. 

He tightened his grip on his lunch. He supposed the rest of the school wouldn’t take kindly to Mr. Populars apologizing to the scholarship kid… 

The Sunglasses Man still glared at Hongjoong, but San ignored him completely, ushering Hongjoong in and closing the door behind them. 

Surprisingly, only Seonghwa, Wooyoung, and Yeosang sat around. “Where are the others?” he asked carefully, stepping forward with San. 

“Somewhere else,” Wooyoung answered with a shrug. “We don’t always eat in here. Just whenever we feel like it.” 

“Seonghwa’s always in here, though,” San chuckled, sitting on the other side of Wooyoung. “So we keep him company.” He made a cute face at Seonghwa who rolled his eyes. 

“The rest of you don’t need alone time?” Hongjoong questioned, chuckling awkwardly, not sure how exactly to joke around with them yet. 

“Nah,” Wooyoung snickered. “We just make sure Seonghwa doesn’t get too lonely.” He made a cute face at Seonghwa as well, and Seonghwa threw a piece of broccoli at him, nailing him in the forehead. 

Hongjoong snorted, along with the other as Wooyoung’s ungodly shriek. 

He stopped abruptly when he heard a foreign laugh breaking, glancing over at Yeosang who was hiding behind a hand, eyes scrunched as he laughed along- reaching over to pick the broccoli off the floor and putting it on Wooyoung’s desk. 

He snorted a bit, patting Wooyoung’s head as he buried it in his arms- 

Hongjoong tore his eyes away from the foreign sight, knowing that the worst fucking thing you could do when someone quiet decided to be noisy was to stare. 

But holy shit, he didn’t think he’d ever seen Yeosang smile, much less laugh like that. 

“Don’t worry,” Seonghwa’s voice said quietly, lost in the other’s laughter, smirking at Hongjoong. “It’s a pretty rare scene to us, too,” he assured him, glancing at Yeosang fondly. 

Wooyoung batted Yeosnag’s hand away, but Yeosang caught his hand, squeezing it teasingly before letting it go. 

He vaguely remembered those people talking about how Yeosang and Wooyoung had known each other since they were young. They must be close. 

Hongjoong glanced away, back to his lunch. “Where do the rest of you get your alone time, then?” 

“Home,” all three of them answered at once, Wooyoung still glaring at Seonghwa. 

Hongjoong glanced curiously at Seonghwa, frowning gently. “No rest for the wicked?” he guessed. 

Seonghwa shrugged. “My parents want me to be well prepared, so I accompany them to their work often. I get some time to myself, but… it’s different. I like this classroom.” He smiled at Hongjoong. 

It was a smile that hid something. 

Hongjoong didn’t know for the life of him what it hid, but it probably had to do with what he didn’t want Hongjoong to know about his parents. Seriously, what could he want to keep so secret? 

“The rest of you don’t work with your parents?” Hongjoong asked curiously, looking particularly at Yeosang who (while he was looking away) had returned to a bored expression. “Aren’t you always going to shoots during class?” 

“My family owns the actual modeling company, so technically I work for them,” he murmured. “I very rarely have to work with the boring parts like setting appointments. It’s basically just sitting there and looking pretty. I don’t count it as work.”

“You’re good at that,” Wooyoung snickered, earning him a glare from Yeosang, which he simply stuck his tongue out at. “What? You sit everywhere and look pretty, pretty boy.” 

Hongjoong was startled when Yeosang slapped Wooyoung across the back of his head, glaring. “I told you to stop calling me that,” he muttered, and for a moment Hongjoong was wondering if Wooyoung had crossed a line.  

But then Wooyoung’s head came up, grinning impishly, and Hongjoong noticed a very faint flush on Yeosang’s cheeks that very much was not anger. 

Huh. 

“What about you, Hongjoong?” Seonghwa’s voice broke through his staring abruptly, almost urgently. He glanced away from the other two, and found Seonghwa smiling almost painfully. “Did you ever work with your mother?” he asked stiffly. 

Hongjoong frowned, wondering if he was trying to keep attention off of the two looking ready to start a cat fight. But he shook his head slowly. 

“No… The first store I worked at was a thrift shop, and the owner knew her for years, so she vouched for me. After that, I was sort of on my own. I didn’t see her much while she was working, unless I stopped by to say hi after school.” 

Seonghwa hummed, looking interested for more reasons than keeping his attention. “How long have you been working?” 

“Since I could,” he said, shrugging. “We needed the money.” He went on quickly, before anyone could try and feel sorry for him. “What about the rest of you?”

“Most of us are bred from birth,” San chuckled. “I was four when my uncle first threw me across the room in the name of training me.” 

Hongjoong winced, but San just grinned. “Don’t worry, I was eight when I first flipped him, so I got my payback.” 

So… San was dangerous. Despite that, Hongjoong thought it was pretty cool. 

“Yeosang been sitting still and looking pretty since he was six,” Wooyoung reported, dodging the swipe Yeosang aimed at him. 

“And Wooyoung has been the biggest pain in the ass ever since his mother dropped a sewing machine on him when he was eight,” he said in annoyance. 

Hongjoong’s eyes widened before Wooyoung glared. “She didn’t drop it on me!” he fought. “You weren’t there!” 

“I know that you bitched about the bump on your head for several weeks,” Yeosang monotoned. “And I know your exact words were ‘the bitch dropped a sewing machine on me.”’ 

“That’s not-” 

“Guys,” Seonghwa said through his teeth, earning both of their attention. 

He very pointedly gestured with his eyes towards Hongjoong- almost like a warning. 

The two of them looked away from each other, hands sitting in their lap. “Anyway,” Wooyoung said calmly- 

“What was that about?” Hongjoong questioned, frowning between the four of them, feeling defensive. “I’m not gonna call the cops on his mom for dropping something on him when he was a kid…” 

“It’s not that,” Seonghwa said quickly, smiling a bit more genuinely, eyes brighter. “But they’ve known each other for too long, and if you let them keep going, you’ll suddenly know way more about either of them than you ever wanted to.” 

It certainly seemed like they were the kind of friends that knew everything about each other, so Hongjoong didn’t doubt that. 

He hummed idly as he pulled out his Art Appreciation textbook to begin reading the chapter as the others continued talking about other stuff. Hongjoong heard them talking about business between their parents (except Seonghwa) and schoolwork, but also about hanging out on the weekend, if their schedules lined up. 

“Well, I’m gonna go see if Mingi got eaten alive yet,” San said, standing with his empty tray. Hongjoong glanced up and San grinned at him. “I’ll see you around, Hongjoong,” he promised, waving to the others as he left. 

Hongjoong waved back dumbly, following his movement until the door closed behind him. 

“Something wrong?” Seonghwa prompted quietly, leaning to see Hongjoong, brows pulled down in quiet concern. 

“Is everyone here only putting up with me because you brought me here?” he asked, turning to Seonghwa. “Or what? Because some of them act as if they’ve been paying attention to me before this.” 

“They have.” 

Seonghwa had hesitated in answering, but Wooyoung blurted it out from across the circle, smiling impishly.

 “What do you mean?” Hongjoong questioned. 

“It’s impossible not to pay attention to you, first of all,” Wooyoung chuckled, leaning his elbows on the desk. “Not only because you’re a scholarship student but because it’s impressive as hell how many fucks you don’t give.” 

Hongjoong blinked. “I don’t not give a fuck.” He didn’t know why he was getting defensive. 

“You threatened to give a girl a virus,” Wooyoung snorted, looking excited as he rocked in his chair. “You yelled at Yeosang, San, and Yunho- on top of the dozens of other students that you’ve verbally and silently told to fuck off because they were bothering you. You nearly threatened to call the cops on Seonghwa of all people-” 

Wooyoung looked like this was the funniest part of it all, but Seonghwa narrowed his eyes in warning, making Hongjoong glance between the two of them. 

“You’re not spray painting buildings and pulling switch blades,” Wooyoung assured him, looking amused. “But you’ve made it clear from the first moment you walked in here that you weren’t taking shit from someone. And to people like the students in this school? Having someone of no status stand up to them is the actual worst thing. Because they’re not used to it.” 

“They threaten you, and you don’t care,” Yeosang added quietly, shrugging. “That pisses them off even more. It’s funny to watch.” 

“We don’t really flaunt it, but we are aware we’re the most popular people in this school,” Seonghwa said calmly as Hongjoong glanced at him. He shrugged. “Image is everything to us. You don’t care about your image and, therefore, they have nothing to threaten you with. That makes you stand out.”  

“Honestly, though, I’m surprised no one shanked you for yelling at Yeosang,” Wooyoung snickered, looking like this was the most fun he’d had in weeks. “Most of those girls are fucking vicious if you breathe at him weird.” 

Yeosang swatted him again, looking annoyed. 

Hongjoong frowned. “So do you actually like having all those people swarming you?” he asked at Yeosang specifically, but it was sort of a general question aimed at all of them. 

Yeosang’s lips pressed together minutely. “Not really,” he said slowly. “But I don’t really care one way or another.” 

Hongjoong hummed, interested to know what might be going on through Yeosang’s head while those people surrounded him. “Not to sound like an ass, but I’ve always wondered why they bother, if you never look or talk to them.” 

There was a brief silence- short, but long enough that Hongjoong knew he had said something… perhaps insensitive? Maybe just a little too close to something they weren’t supposed to talk about? 

No one’s expression changed, though- no glares or sour looks aimed at him for his words. Yeosang merely nodded after his pause. “Yep,” he said, as if that were that. 

Hongjoong wasn’t sure what the hell he had almost gotten too close to, but he knew a red line when he saw one and backed away. 

“Did you finish your worksheet for-” 

The door opened, surprising them, and Seonghwa turned quickest- seeing the Sunglasses Man poking his head in. “Call from your father,” he said flatly. 

“I’m at lunch,” Seonghwa replied, voice stiffening slightly. 

Hongjoong had only seen two instances where Seonghwa almost completely lost that kind-formal tone and posture. Only two times where even his awkward or stiff politeness and genuine concern and kindness seemed to fall away to reveal something annoyed and upset. 

Both were when addressing the Sunglasses Man. But Seonghwa had said he was there to keep people out. Did Seonghwa not like having him there? Was it a personal issue with the man? 

“He doesn’t care,” Sunglasses Man reported. “He’ll be brief, he has a meeting to attend.” 

Seonghwa’s lips pressed together, clearly warring with whether or not to actually go and take the call. 

His eyes glanced at Hongjoong- as if checking his reaction to it all- before sighing quietly and standing. “I’m coming,” he said heavily, as if truly regretting having to go. He smiled apologetically at Hongjoong, that warmth back in his eyes. “Sorry to leave early. This will probably take the rest of lunch, so I’ll see you around, okay?” 

Hongjoong almost made a comment about the two of them still not being friends, but.. 

That ship had probably sailed… He was here twice now, he was holding non-painful conversation, even if they were weird and oddly weighted, and really… he had already been thinking about coming back tomorrow too… 

So he pressed his lips together and nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he said, voice sounding odd to his ears. “Yeah, I’ll see you around.” 

Seonghwa offered one more regretful smile before gathering his things and exiting the room. 

And Hongjoong was loathed to go behind people’s backs, but he watched Seonghwa go with a stiff posture- stiffer than he’d ever seen among any of the times he’d observed Seonghwa from a distance. 

Hongjoong glanced back at Yeosang and Wooyoung who were wearing similar expressions of grey. 

“Does… Seonghwa not like his father?” Hongjoong asked very… very carefully. 

Wooyoung tilted his head curiously. “Don’t you think that’s a question you should ask Seonghwa?” 

Hongjoong winced, but Wooyoung lifted an eyebrow, clearly expecting an answer. “Seonghwa doesn’t seem to want me to know what his family does,” Hongjoong said firmly. “And I’m fine with that. I don’t think it’s for any bad reason, but… I’m curious,” he said, shrugging helplessly. 

Wooyoung chuckled, looking amused again- childish eyes lighting up. 

“I’m taking a bit of a personal risk by going along with this whole friends thing,” Hongjoong explained, fiddling with his fingers. “Hell, I signed up for one and somehow got like five others, but that’s besides the point.” 

Wooyoung snorted, Yeosang’s lips twitching. 

“The point is that there’s clearly a lot of landmines that go along with your little group,” he said carefully. “And I don’t want to step on anything sensitive. I’ve asked Seonghwa about his family a couple of times, but if that’s a topic I should stay away from, I want to know. Seonghwa doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would tell me to stop asking, so I’m asking you…” 

A moment of silence. Neither of their expressions shifted. 

Wooyoung suddenly grinned. “I like you,” he said, like he had just found a cute dog in a pet store and absolutely knew it was the one he wanted to take home. 

Hongjoong blinked. “Um-” 

“Seonghwa’s relationship with his family is fine,” Wooyoung said, as if that was all it took to get the story. “He has to be a little more committed than the rest of us, and a few other things that go along with it, but he doesn’t mind. It’s just inconvenient at times like these when he’s not supposed to have to deal with it.” 

“Oh,” Hongjoong murmured, glancing at the door. “I see… So it’s just the Sunglasses guy he doesn’t like?” 

Wooyoung snorted, Yeosang’s lips quirking up. “Lee is just the bearer of bad news,” Yeosang assured him. “But he is kinda an asshole, even if he’s just doing his job. He’s not bad, he’s just a stickler.” 

Hongjoong nodded slowly. 

He could get that. Lots of people had complicated relationships with their parents. As long as he wasn’t unknowingly poking at some sort of bruise, that was okay. 

Wooyoung grinned. “You should-” 

The bell suddenly rang, taking Hongjoong by surprise as he jumped, wondering where the hell the time had gone- 

He started packing up his books (that he hadn’t read as much as he should have), as Wooyoung stood quickly. “I have to see Professor Yoo before my next class,” he said, grinning at Hongjoong. “I’ll see you around.” 

Hongjoong lifted his head, waving at Wooyoung- 

Wooyoung passed behind the back of Yeosang’s desk, setting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing it with a bright smile. “See you later,” he said, continuing to walk. 

Hongjoong watched his hand continue touching Yeosang’s shoulder, dragging against it until he let it fall with a quick wave. 

Hongjoong paused for a moment as Yeosang turned to watch Wooyoung, nodding. “Bye,” he called, his lips twitching once more as Wooyoung exited the room. 

Hongjoong was never one to jump to conclusions, but… 

“Oh,” he said quietly as he sat up. 

That was the sound of two days worth of interactions snapping into place, creating a larger picture. 

Yeosang glanced over at him, frowning at Hongjoong’s clearly surprised expression. 

Hongjoong sat up. “So… are you and Wooyoung, like… a thing?” 

He saw the way Yeosang stiffened imperceptibly. “What do you mean?” he asked stiffly. 

There was a valiant attempt at acting unbothered, but Hongjoong… 

Hongjoong grew up in a place that was the oddest mixture of free and imprisoning. 

He saw couples of every type, accepted without question. And he also saw the very opposite end of the spectrum existing and tormenting them within that same space. 

He knew pretty accurately what it looked like to be hiding. And he might actually believe Yeosang’s acting, if he weren’t so sure that those teasings that he saw earlier and their reactions to it all- 

Seonghwa reminding them of Hongjoong- an outsider’s- presence. 

That… and the slight flicker of fear in Yeosang’s eyes. 

Hongjoong was still for a moment, like trying not to scare off a bird hopping along the ground. He’d been fortunate enough to only have that kind of fear for a very short period of his life. But he’d seen it enough in others from his old schools. 

“I won’t tell anyone,” he said firmly, staring at Yeosang. 

Yeosang… who maybe was a little distant and cold, but who hadn’t ever done anything against Hongjoong. 

And even if he had been one of the ones to spit on Hongjoong… this was the sort of thing that you didn’t use for revenge. 

His chest tightened a bit when Yeosang’s fingers curled tightly on top of the desk, glancing around, as if painfully aware of their solitude- no one to help him or help deflect. 

“Listen,” Hongjoong said bluntly, gathering his books because he still had class. “I have no right to judge you- I’ve only ever dated guys.” 

Yeosang’s lips thinned, expression turning pale and stony. 

“And maybe you don’t know me,” Hongjoong assured him, “but… trust me, Yeosang, I would never try and use something like this against you. That’s fucked up in ways I wouldn’t even attribute to half the people here.” 

He appeared to be trying to disappear by force of will alone, and Hongjoong felt another tick of regret in his chest. 

“I won’t tell anyone,” he said, firm and almost glaring at Yeosang with how hard he demanded the other to understand this. “It’s not my place. If you want, I’ll forget I ever said anything. But… even if you don’t know a thing about me, Yeosang, you can trust that this is something I’ll take to my grave.” 

He stood, making Yeosang stiffen, shouldering his bag. 

“I don’t know your situations,” Hongjoong admitted tightly. “And I think it’s fucked up that you would have to hide something like that. But I know that no one hides it without a good reason. So, I’m sorry,” he said heavily. “And I hope you realize that I’m being genuine.” 

He left because time was ticking until his next class, but he regretted it. 

With each interaction, Hongjoong had been forced to face a singular fact more and more. 

The fact that just because you were rich and powerful… didn’t mean you had freedom. Or, perhaps, any freedom that really mattered. 

Wooyoung wasn’t in Design, and Hongjoong genuinely didn’t know if it was because of what he had discovered or not. 

He went home feeling sick to his stomach- part with worry and part with disgust. 

He hadn’t… done something wrong by bringing it up, right? 

Of course, minutes after making sure it was okay to bring up Seonghwa’s family, he just stomped right over Yeosang’s potentially harmful hidden relationship. 

Nice going. 

He was distracted all throughout his attempts to begin his negative space assignment, sitting in front of a canvas with black paint dripping from his brush. He was too distracted to be creative and he began placing semi-random strokes, trying to figure out what shape he wanted to go for. 

However, he only got the chance to be upset over his lack of inspiration twice- having only been sitting in front of it for an hour after classes let out- before the doorbell of his dorm rang. 

It sounded throughout the whole empty space, making Hongjoong jump, looking around frantically and trying to figure out if he had ordered any more supplies. 

Was it a SIU official or something? Did they do inspections here?

He stood up quickly, rushing to the door without even remembering to place his paintbrush down. He pulled the door open quickly, already apologizing for keeping them waiting- 

Seonghwa stared back at him. 

So did Wooyoung and Yeosang. 

Hongjoong froze with his hand still on the door, his hand moving to clutch at his chest- getting another smear of paint on his t-shirt that was already ruined from years of art. 

Holy shit, were they going to do something to him for what he said? 

There was no one else with them, and they didn’t look particularly angry… 

In fact, Seonghwa’s expression was heavy, even as his eyes showed a particular light as he looked at Hongjoong. 

“They, uh… told me about what you said earlier,” Seonghwa said, wincing apologetically. “Would you… mind if we came in?” 

Hongjoong was about to ask what the hell they were doing here… but at the same time, he realized just how big a deal this whole thing was. 

He glanced past Seonghwa and saw Yeosang and Wooyoung standing shoulder to shoulder. And maybe they weren’t touching, but Wooyoung was staring at Hongjoong with a gaze that was most definitely protective. 

As if daring him to try and use this against them. 

Hongjoong stepped aside slowly. “Sure,” he said quietly, gesturing them in. 

Seonghwa looked relieved. “Thank you. We’re sorry for coming by without warning, but-” 

“It’s fine,” Hongjoong said, forgetting about his homework for a minute. “I’ve got a few minutes. Do you want anything to drink? I have tea…” 

“Don’t go to any trouble,” Seonghwa said quickly, offering a gentle smile. “Just some water would be fine.” 

He glanced at Yeosang and Wooyoung, but they avoided his gaze. 

Why was Seonghwa here? Was he a mediator? Was he the only one who knew where Hongjoong lived? 

Hongjoong shouldered that confusion along with the hundreds of others that he had, and went to get some glasses of water. 

The others made themselves at home in the living room, sitting on the three-seater couch and glancing around the empty space. 

He set the glasses on the coffee table, settling on the ground. 

Seonghwa immediately began to stand. “You can sit-” 

“Sit,” Hongjoong said, narrowing his eyes. Rich or not, he hadn’t been taught to let guests sit on the floor. 

Seonghwa sat quickly, clearly taken off guard by the harsh command. 

He looked at Yeosang and Wooyoung who sat close to each other. His expression softened at their stricken expressions. “I’m not going to tell anyone,” he reiterated honestly. 

“We believe you,” Wooyoung said, speaking for the first time, glancing up with a mixture of nerves and challenge in his eyes. “But… we figured you at least deserved an explanation.” 

“I really don’t,” Hongjoong said firmly. “It’s none of my business-” 

“It’s not something we’re ashamed about,” Yeosang said, voice more fierce than Hongjoong had ever heard as his head snapped up, staring at Hongjoong pointedly. “And it’s not something we’re uncomfortable with-” 

“Regardless of how you feel, you don’t owe me anything,” Hongjoong said firmly. “I don’t know how things work among the upper class, but where I’m from, you don’t use that shit against people.” 

There was a brief pause, Yeosang swallowed thickly, his hand shifting over towards Wooyoung. 

Wooyoung grabbed it firmly, squeezing it tightly. 

“All of us know,” Seonghwa said quietly, earning Hongjoong’s attention. “It was Yeosang and Wooyoung’s choice to tell you, too. It’s not payment, it’s just a decision they made.” 

“And why are you here?” Hongjoong questioned calmly. 

“Moral support,” Seonghwa said, lips twitching. “I was also the only one available on such short notice.” 

Hongjoong nodded slowly, glancing back at the other two, looking between their stiff expressions. He sighed. “Fine,” he said finally. “What’s the story?”

“No one can know we’re dating,” Wooyoung said without preamble, expression hardening. “It can’t even be a joke going around. No hints or anything that we’re more than childhood friends.” 

“That part is true?” Hongjoong questioned. “You’ve known each other for that long?” 

“Our parents are business partners- clothing and modeling,” Yeosang explained quietly, staring at his knees. “We met when we were toddlers, and we were just… always around each other. Our parents encouraged it- it was basically securing a future relationship between the companies.” 

“We knew very well our parents’ opinions on being gay,” Wooyoung said, chuckling. “Oh, they’re fine with it- everyone is entitled to their own lifestyle choices-” It was very clear he was mocking them. “Just not their kids. Not the people who are supposed to take over the company, get married and make babies to pass the company onto.” 

“When you’re around someone for that long…” Yeosang said carefully, as if he was choosing each word with difficulty. “When they’re your only real friend and someone who means that much to you… it’s kinda fucking hard not to fall for them.” He laughed bitterly. 

He saw Wooyoung’s grip tighten on his hand, jaw tightening. 

“We danced around it for a while,” Wooyoung said, interlocking their fingers for a better hold. “It was miserable. We were thirteen and I kissed him, and we avoided each other for four months-” 

It was Yeosang’s turn to squeeze his hand, wincing slightly at the clearly unpleasant memory. 

“We let ourselves be miserable for a while,” Yeosang murmured, “but eventually… you start to just think… ‘Fuck it,’ you know?” he asked, looking at Hongjoong as if he was expecting Hongjoong to back him up. 

Hongjoong nodded slowly, stomach twisting with anger and injustice. 

“So… we said fuck it,” Yeosang continued, looking ill. “And we started actually dating when we were fifteen, and the rest is history. Our parents know we’re best friends- they don’t question that we’re always hanging out, and they let us be alone together without suspicion.” 

Hongjoong frowned, gesturing to Seonghwa. “How did the others find out?”

“We knew some of them as vague friends and business partners,” Wooyoung explained. “We grew closer with time, and we only told them after years of knowing them well enough to trust them not to out us.” 

“So,” Seonghwa said soothingly, reaching over to pat Yeosang’s arm. “You can understand why it was a little terrifying that someone they’ve only known for a few days suddenly knew their secret.” 

Not that it mattered, but Hongjoong asked anyway, frowning. “What happens if your parents find out?” 

Both of them drew in sharp breaths, Wooyoung letting his out slowly, as if he didn’t want to think about it. “Aside from probably breaking the relationship between the companies and never letting us associate with each other ever again? Probably cutting us off in whatever way they could-” 

“My mom threatened moving us to China once, during my rebellious phase,” Yeosang murmured. “So she’d probably move us, if it came to it.” 

Hongjoong hummed quietly. “And you can’t let other kids at school find out because they’ll start blabbing.” 

“That and some of them are straight homophobic bitches,” Wooyoung huffed. “But, yeah, mostly that first part. A lot of kids are under pressure from parents to make babies, so it’s not a super common thing to be open about.” 

Hongjoong frowned once more, glancing at Seonghwa. “Then why did you ask me out like that? You weren’t secretive about it at all- What about the backlash?” 

Hongjoong knew immediately that it had something to do with Seonghwa’s parents because he did that little nervous glance, clearly trying to figure out how to phrase it without giving something away. 

What the fuck was up with it? 

“My parents are completely fine with me,” He said finally. “Given their profession, it would be a bit scandalous to be bigoted like that. I’m basically free to do as I choose, so long as the person isn’t just some criminal off the streets.” 

“His family also sort of protects him from anyone at school saying shit about it,” Wooyoung said, chuckling quietly. “Seonghwa’s not the kid of the most powerful parents who have a kid at SIU… but he’s pretty close up there.” 

Hongjoong turned curious, confused eyes at Seonghwa who winced. 

“Popularity is almost directly related to how powerful your parents are,” Yeosang explained, looking slightly less sick to his stomach. “Most of the time. In cases like me, Yunho, and a few others, it’s just because people think we look pretty, rather than basing it on our parents.” 

Hongjoong nodded dumbly. “I see…” Rich people had so many rules… but he supposed they weren’t too different from any other school. 

Somehow, the more he spoke with these people, the more questions popped up in his head. Namely to do with Seonghwa. 

“Anyway,” Wooyoung said, waving his head as if the entire previous conversation was pointless. “We can trust you to be discreet about this?” he asked, staring at Hongjoong earnestly- once more torn between fear and daring. 

Hongjoong nodded quickly. “I won’t breathe a word to anyone.” He chuckled. “As if anyone would listen, even if I did say anything. They’d probably think I was trying to ruin your reputation or something.” 

Yeosang cracked a tiny grin as Wooyoung chuckled, both their hands squeezing each other once more. 

Seonghwa looked relieved. 

But above that, he looked… 

Hongjoong had glanced at him passingly, but he did a double take, jerking his eyes back to Seonghwa who smiled at him quietly. Warm. Gentle. 

Something almost adoring in it. Something grateful. 

Hongjoong straightened, mouth opening to ask Seonghwa what the hell he was doing- 

“We’ve taken enough of your time,” Yeosang said, standing with Wooyoung, drawing Hongjoong’s attention away from Seonghwa. “We’ll… see you in class tomorrow?” He half-smiled awkwardly. 

Somehow after such a short meeting, everyone knew a little too much about each person in this room. 

Hongjoong stood as Seonghwa stood with them. 

With brief goodbyes, they were gone, leaving Hongjoong alone in his apartment with his drying paint brush and way more information than he ever thought he would be handed while at this school. 

Despite… everything that had happened with the people in this university… Hongjoong felt a flare of protectiveness at the secret he now carried. 

Maybe they were snobby and didn’t know much about where he came from, but if there was one thing that connected Hongjoong to the rest of these people, it was this. 

Maybe they had money that could buy and silence anyone who tried anything. 

But Hongjoong didn’t have that. What he did have was a hidden attitude problem and fists that were way too willing to fly on behalf of someone else. (Jaehyun from Junior year could attest to that.) 

If Wooyoung and Yeosang said no one could find out… no one would find out. 

Maybe Hongjoong wasn’t great friends with them, but he didn’t need to be to place this in the forefront of his mind. You didn’t just protect friends against stuff like this. 

He went back to his painting, no more inspired and way more burdened than before. 

But somehow… oddly lighter. 

~~~~~~~~

Seonghwa showed back up at the convenience store. 

Hongjoong was shocked to see him, but not surprised that he came. He didn’t even bother getting annoyed when Seonghwa entered like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to be here. 

He pushed the door open, sticking his head in with a grimace, waiting for Hongjoong to bite his head off. 

Hongjoong huffed- half in amusement at his behavior and half in embarrassment for his previous lashing outs. “I’m not gonna yell at you,” he assured Seonghwa, twirling a pen between his fingers. “Come get your snacks.” 

Seonghwa looked grateful, straightening and entering. 

If Hongjoong thought about it, he would find it the funniest thing that someone like Seonghwa… popular, rich, and (now he realized) the son of someone very clearly very important… was creeping into a shop, almost cowering in fear at a skinny scholarship student who was nearly a head shorter than him. 

Hongjoong might try and call it a power rush if it weren’t more funny than empowering. 

Seonghwa simply grabbed a strawberry cake that Hongjoong had recommended last time, setting it on the counter with a gentle smile. 

“Thank you,” he said honestly as Hongjoong scanned it. 

Hongjoong might have brushed it off, but he glanced up at the almost breathless earnestness in his tone. 

Seonghwa stared at him… with those same eyes from before. Warm and gentle, but something way deeper appearing in them. 

Almost like the way his mom had stared at him during his highschool graduation. Not quite. 

It was almost like Seonghwa couldn’t believe his luck that Hongjoong was actually existing in front of him. 

Hongjoong paused, the blinking icon on the screen forgotten as he stared at Seonghwa, his brows twitching downward. 

“Really,” Seonghwa said earnestly. “It means… a lot that you’re so willing to keep Wooyoung and Yeosang’s secret. It’s…. Thank you,” he repeated, like he didn’t know how else to articulate it. 

But it really did seem like he was overflowing with gratitude at what seemed like such a normal thing to Hongjoong. 

His eyes got warmer- something nearly glowing from them as he stared at Hongjoong. 

If Hongjoong… 

If Hongjoong thought less of Seonghwa, he might think that Seonghwa was still trying to flirt. Still staring at Hongjoong as a potential relationship, instead of a grateful friend. 

That was the sort of gaze that Seonghwa was aiming at Hongjoong. 

And even as Hongjoong stared in confusion, his chest tightened at the warm look, coming from someone who really had no reason to thank him.

The sort of emotion that came with feeling proud that you did something… even if it didn’t seem like a big deal. 

Hongjoong shrugged simply. “Listen, I said it before- that’s the sort of shit you don’t use against people,” he said, tapping on the screen to continue the purchase. “I don’t care if the biggest asshole in school came to me… I wouldn’t do something shitty like that.” 

“Then you’re one of a very small number of people.” 

Hongjoong stopped again, looking at Seonghwa like he was crazy. 

Surely, not everyone was that fucking shallow here. 

“Maybe not so cut and dry,” Seonghwa assured him, expression sobering slightly, though still keeping that brightness. “But there are six people in this entire college who have been trusted to protect their secret without even a suspicion that they would use it for personal gain. It used to be five before today…” 

He gave Hongjoong a pointed look. 

Hongjoong looked away quickly, reaching for the card that Seonghwa handed over. 

“Yeah, well… apparently both upper and lower class people have that in common,” he muttered, returning the card. 

“You took a large burden off of them,” Seonghwa told him firmly. “And you spoke with enough honesty that they feel secure in you knowing. I was afraid they were going to spend weeks waiting for the other shoe to drop…” 

Hongjoong slowly stopped pressing buttons. 

Seonghwa had admitted that he liked Hongjoong. 

From the things he had seen about Hongjoong from a distance, he had decided that Hongjoong was someone he was interested in. 

Hongjoong thought about that sometimes. 

Someone as nice, honest, rich, popular, and powerful as Seonghwa… was somehow still continuing, keeping Hongjoong’s company in whatever way Hongjoong was willing… just to spend time with him?

To get to know him? 

“Could I buy you dinner one night?” 

Hongjoong’s expression must have moved without him even telling it to, because Seonghwa was quick to lift a hand, expression twisting into something begging for understanding. 

“It’s not a date!” he said quickly, waving the hand. “I swear- I’m not using this as a way to get with you or anything-” 

Hongjoong schooled his expression into something less defensive as Seonghwa looked panicked at the potential misunderstanding. 

Seonghwa’s panic softened at the lack of anger. “I just… The people that you’ve met… mean a lot to me,” he said quietly. “And you did something that… that regardless of your opinion on it, was something amazing… And I can’t for the life of me think of another way to try and show you… how grateful I am.” 

He winced, like he was thinking of every way his plan had gone awry, and Hongjoong… 

Hongjoong didn’t hate Seonghwa. He wasn’t angry, he wasn’t annoyed… 

Fuck it, watching him (objectively and without thinking about his background) was almost fucking endearing. Amusing. 

He was so fucking earnest, and Hongjoong didn’t know if it was a bad thing to want to laugh along with him… 

But it had been a while since he’d had anyone to consider a friend… and Seongwha was doing a pretty solid job of convincing Hongjoong that he was a safe choice. 

“If you have something else that you’d rather, I’ll take a suggestion,” Seongwha said quickly. “I just- I don’t know… what you like or what to get you…” 

Hongjoong sighed quietly, feeling his lips twitch despite his better judgement. “You don’t have to pay me back-” 

“I want to,” Seonghwa said quickly, fingers gripping the counter. 

Hongjoong could tell that he wanted to. He laughed quietly. He truly didn’t think that Seonghwa was trying to be underhanded, working to find a way to get him to dinner. 

Hongjoong glanced at the little cake he was buying. He sighed quietly. “Fine,” he said smoothly. “I’ll let you buy me dinner.” 

Seonghwa’s eyes practically sparkled- as if he had just won the goddamn lottery. Once more, as if nothing was more delightful to him than being able to spend time with Hongjoong. 

And, shockingly, Hongjoong was not weirded out by it. It was something too pure-seeming. Too genuine. 

“You better not pick somewhere weird,” Hongjoong said, glaring. “I’m not dressing up for this. I’m free this Sunday, and next week on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday after classes and after I finish my homework for those days.” 

Seonghwa nodded, lips pulling up. “I’ll see when I’m free,” he said, holding out a hand. “Can I give you my number?” 

He didn’t bother adding the fact that it wasn’t a ploy to get his number, but Hongjoong could see it in his eyes. 

Seonghwa had been right, before. 

You could tell when someone was acting, to a certain degree. And either Seonghwa was the most genuine person Hongjoong had ever met, or he was wasting his time here when he should be in Hollywood. 

Hongjoong, for the first time since arriving to SIU, chose to give someone the benefit of the doubt. 

“You could just tell me at lunch,” Hongjoong informed him, even as he fished out his phone. 

Seonghwa didn’t panic- rather, he smiled warmly. “You don’t have to do it,” he assured him quietly. “But I think it would be helpful for both of us since we don’t see each other often.” 

Hongjoong huffed, handing over his phone. 

Seonghwa typed things in for a long time, making Hongjoong frown. Just as he was about to demand what Seonghwa was doing, his phone was handed back to him. 

“I went ahead and put in everyone else’s numbers as well,” Seonghwa told him with a grin. “Just in case. You don’t have to use them, but it’ll just make things easier in the future.” 

The warmth had blazed into bright excitement, and Hongjoong couldn’t even be mad at the extra steps he had taken, simply nodding with a quiet hum. 

Seonghwa was already stepping away, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow at lunch,” he said with a small wave. “I’ll try and have an answer for when I’m free!” 

Hongjoong, reactively, waved a small hand in farewell. The bell over the door rang and Seonghwa disappeared back into the night. 

Somehow, his phone felt heavier with the new numbers. 

In all his life, Hongjoong had never had a friend quite like Seonghwa. Someone that brand of formal, reserved, secretive- but genuine, kind, earnest, bright.

 It was endearing. 

Hongjoong was beginning to enjoy the routine they had built. 

He genuinely hoped this didn’t turn out to be a mistake. 

Chapter Text

Hongjoong walked to class the next day sort of dreading everything. And it started with entering into English and seeing six girls gathered around Yeosang’s desk, showing him a magazine. 

“I loved this shoot!” one girl squealed, pointing to a page Hongjoong couldn’t see. “Your eyes just sparkle!”

“Were the clothes uncomfortable? The pants look tight-” 

“Were the other models nice? You worked with the female one before, right? If you ever needed a replacement, I’ve done some-” 

Hongjoong glanced over as he sat down- his and Yeosang’s eyes meeting for a brief moment through the crowd of bodies. 

Yeosang looked away quickly, continuing to stare off as one girl tried to hand him a business card with her number on it. 

Hongjoong pressed his lips together, turning to his desk and coughing loudly, covering his mouth. He did it again- adding a sick noise in the back of his throat. 

The chatter beside him died as the girl nearest him fell silent and jerked away from him. 

No one had yet forgotten his comments of vaccinations, and glanced at her, wincing. “Sorry,” he said flatly. “Just feeling a little sick. Don’t mind me.” 

He coughed twice more before the group began to shift away from him, faces of disgust and horror. “Uh- talk to you later, Yeosang,” one of the girls said, backing away with her mouth covered. 

“You should talk to the professor about having him moved, if he’s going to get you sick,” one girl muttered, shoving the others away from them. 

Hongjoong remained staring at his desk, but glanced at Yeosang inconspicuously and met his eyes. 

The corner of his lips twitched. “Did you do that on purpose?” he murmured, careful to keep the others from knowing they were holding a conversation. 

Hongjoong nodded. “You didn’t look like you were having much fun.” 

In truth, Yeosang looked no different than he usually did, but after having a few talks with him… he didn’t think Yeosang appreciated those crowds. 

There was a silence, Hongjoong turning back to reviewing his notes. 

“It’s because they don’t care,” Yeosang murmured under his breath. 

When Hongjoong risked a look over, Yeosang was staring at his own desk, not meeting his eyes. Something in his expression almost looked guilty, but in reality, it was likely just weighed down. 

“You asked before why they gathered, if I never said anything,” he said quietly, glancing at Hongjoong and then quickly away. “It’s because they don’t care what I have to say. They want to stare at the pretty pictures, talk to the pretty boy… but they don’t care what the pretty boy has to say.” 

Hongjoong’s stomach twisted as his expression fell. 

Yeosang tapped the desk quietly. “They don’t want my opinions, they want something pretty to look at.” He glanced over and managed to hold Hongjoong’s gaze. “That’s why they hang around. It took me a while to realize that they weren’t really listening. So I stopped talking. And lo and behold… they still come around.” 

He spoke… with the sort of finality and peace that Hongjoong spoke about his dad with. 

There was likely some emotional bruising, and at some point it was definitely something that had created tears and anger that followed you like the plague… 

But with time, it had turned to nothing but a reality you accepted and then moved on from. Maybe at one point, being nothing but a pretty face had hurt Yeosang, but he was in a place above it now. 

Hongjoong felt grateful for that. 

“Well, that’s their loss,” he whispered back, returning to his notes. “You’re really nice when you’re not violently uncomfortable.” 

There was a quiet chuckle from Yeosang- rare, apparently. And Hongjoong glanced over, offering a tiny grin. 

Yeosang’s expression was still stiff, but his eyes were a bit brighter. “I’ll see you at lunch,” he murmured. 

Genuinely… 

Genuinely, Hongjoong smiled and nodded as the professor came in. 

~~~~~~~~

Hongjoong was a little nervous. 

He had allowed himself to consider this a trial friendship, but he didn’t know the rules quite yet. 

Could he acknowledge the others in public? Or was it reserved for only outside school? 

When Yunho entered Sketching, Hongjoong glanced at him, and Yunho made his regular greetings as his eyes passed over Hongjoong. 

He paused for a moment- a quick, bright smile thrown at Hongjoong that anyone might mistake as a smile for someone else. 

Hongjoong returned it, small and private as he returned to work. 

In Design, Wooyoung didn’t acknowledge him much, but when he was chasing a student and bumped into Hongjoong’s chair- he stopped for a moment, apologizing quietly, as he always did. However, it was accompanied with a tight, quick squeeze to Hongjoong’s shoulder that had never been given before. 

Hongjoong watched him run off, nearly chuckling at the thought of the secrets he and Yeosang carried. 

He wondered how many of these people they were surrounded with… how many of them would turn if they found out? How many of Wooyoung’s so-called friends here would exile him? How many of the people vying for Yeosang attention would decide a pretty face wasn’t enough to excuse him?

Hongjoong pressed his lips together tightly, as if to physically push the secret down further into a protective vault. 

However, before being subjected to Wooyoung, he sat at lunch. 

Seonghwa, Yeosang, San, and Mingi were there (Mingi shaking Hongjoong’s hand, already laughing about something Hongjoong didn’t get as he introduced himself). 

Hongjoong forgot for a moment what was supposed to happen until he saw Seonghwa sitting there, waving at him brightly. 

“I don’t have a solid schedule for next week,” Seonghwa apologized as he sat. “It seems like this weekend might be the best time, but I’ll let you know as soon as I set a solid confirmation, sorry.” 

Hongjoong shrugged. “It’s fine. I don’t need a week’s worth of warning- just let me know with enough time to take a shower or something.” 

Seonghwa laughed, as if that was something particularly funny, and Hongjoong frowned in confusion for a moment before snickering as well, dropping his head to chuckle. 

“You guys are some of the weirdest people I’ve ever met,” he laughed under his breath. 

“Oh, this is only the beginning,” Mingi said, grinning broadly. “You’ve yet to see when we all get together for a weekend together.” 

That sounded positively terrifying, and Hongjoong told him so. 

It was… startlingly easy to lose his anger at these people. 

Hongjoong had always been sociable, and he made friends easily when given the opportunity, but there had been so much bad blood and anger mingled with his initial perceptions of these people… 

He almost wondered if he was letting his guard down too fast, but… Really, what did he have to lose?

At best, they drop him when they get bored and at worst, they humiliate him in some way in front of the whole school or maybe just privately. 

No worse than Hongjoong expected from any sort of friendship. 

So, he let himself chuckle while they talked, and he told his own stories when prompted. They were nice. They included him. 

They all smiled at him with eyes that seemed genuinely pleased by his company- openly excited about his presence and input. 

They were just nice. And Hongjoong hadn’t realized how deep seeded the loneliness had become until he was welcomed into a group. 

“You actually freaked me out a little when I first saw you,” Yunho chuckled at lunch one day- swapping Hongjoong a piece of kimchi for a slice of pickled radish. “When you walked into class, and you were dressed like…” 

He trailed off, as if trying to find the words, and Hongjoong glanced down at his t-shirt and marker-ridden blue jeans that had become faded from trying to wash out the marker too many times. 

He wasn’t self-conscious about his appearance often, but he was always aware of the fact that compared to the others, he did come across as very… underdressed. 

“You dressed so cool,” Yunho finally burst, looking baffled by it, making Hongjoong blink in surprise. “Like- It’s all stuff you made and it looks so artsy! I’m so tired of wearing slacks- I seriously thought you might have been part of a gang or something- You were just cool. ” 

Hongjoong had never- in all his life- ever been considered part of the cool crowd. 

And so he laughed openly and disbelievingly when Yunho admitted his first impression of him was that he was cool. Sometimes, these guys played a little too much. 

But then San spoke up. 

“I only ever saw you walking by at lunch,” he said, twirling his chopsticks with a grin. “But holy hell- you always looked so unbothered by everything! A guy practically dumped your lunch, and you just kept going like nothing happened-” 

He made a motion with his hands like his head had exploded. 

“I didn’t want you to sit by me,” Yeosang admitted, grimacing as he fiddled with a cookie piece. “But you were more normal than any person here has ever been- You just sat there.” He chuckled, almost tinging on the edge of bitterness. “You were the first person who ever talked to me like I was a normal person.” 

At that, Wooyoung got a little indignant, but Yeosang simply ignored him while smiling quietly at Hongjoong. 

“That’s what I meant when I said you wouldn’t understand,” Yeosang explained quietly. “You act like yourself. And I don’t know if you understand how hard it is to be able to do that.” 

It hit Hongjoong harder than he expected. 

Because he now had enough data to conclude it as true. Yeosang wasn’t bored and indifferent. Wooyoung wasn’t a loudmouth (all the time). Seonghwa wasn’t someone who kept people at arms length. 

They acted like that. Because that’s what their social circles demanded. 

They all stared at Hongjoong, and for the first time he realized that he was one of the few who saw them without their masks. 

Hongjoong felt like perhaps this was the big moment. 

Everyone complimenting him about his appearance, his performance, his personality… and then the moment he accepted it, a camera would pop out from somewhere and somehow humiliate him. 

But he stared around at them. 

And they smiled back at him- eager and earnest. 

And he glanced at Seonghwa whose smile was quiet and private, but seemed as if it was successfully hiding a million different emotions. 

Once again, that sort of pride in his eyes, that gratitude… that he was able to hang around Hongjoong… 

He stared around at them, and he didn’t feel unsafe. He didn’t feel mocked or like a joke. 

He set his silverware down carefully, wetting his lips in disbelief. They actually saw him… and thought all of this about him. 

Him. The scholarship kid. 

“You guys were really watching me since the beginning?” he asked, trying to laugh because he didn’t know what else to do in the face of it. 

“Everyone did,” Wooyoung said, rolling his eyes. “But everyone else probably just saw you as the weird kid, at best. We’ve been talking about you during lunch since you showed up-” 

“Seriously?” Hongjoong demanded, eyes widening. 

“-and we all figured that you seemed pretty chill,” Wooyoung went on without breaking stride. “There was that brief rough patch when shit went downhill and you sort of hated us, with a pretty good reason-” 

“You almost called the cops on Seonghwa, you yelled at Yeosang, Yunho, and San-” 

Hongjoong winced as he listed his altercations. 

“But those were legitimate reactions,” Yeosang said, slapping at Wooyoung for making it sound so dramatic. “And all of us could tell that they were defensive, rather than offensive. And that made a difference.” 

Hongjoong swallowed, nearly choking on a stray piece of rice, humming quietly. “Well, I was either indifferent or spiteful to all of you. Or confused,” he added with a quiet laugh. “Honestly, even now I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop…” 

“Hey.” 

He glanced up at Seonghwa’s quiet call, his expression oddly somber as he stared at Hongjoong, eyes sharp. 

“Nothing we have ever said or done… was ever to make fun of you,” Seonghwa said firmly, as if it were paramount that Hongjoong understand this. “None of us- at any point in time- were ever trying to mock you. Everything was done either genuinely or as a joke that came across wrong-” 

“I know.” 

Because he did. Maybe he didn’t know it at the time- the time where everything was coming across as a personal attack, but that was Hongjoong’s fault, not theirs. 

He chuckled good naturedly. “What I don’t really know is why you would all have taken such an interest in me to actively approach me to come into your space , ” he laughed. 

“You’re normal,” Yunho said quietly, smiling with crinkled eyes. “And that sort of makes you the most interesting thing about this place. But you’re also nice. Which makes you prime friend material.” 

“You have nothing to really gain from any of us,” Wooyoung added, leaning on the desk. “And you very clearly wanted nothing to do with us in the beginning. Unlike everyone else here, we have no sort of doubts about you being here for ulterior motives. And that’s a nice opportunity.” 

“You treat us like we’re people,” Yeosang said, voice somber enough that Hongjoong looked at him almost in worry. “You see us, not our parents or our companies. And that’s something that no one else here has ever really managed.” 

Hongjoong locked eyes with Yeosang, the other’s sharp gaze holding on, as if trying to ensure Hongjoong knew how big a deal this was- 

“Excuse me,” Seonghwa said, standing and turning by the time Hongjoong was able to look at him. “Bathroom,” was all he said before leaving with a haste that spoke of the fact he was not just needing to use the restroom. 

Hongjoong stared after him as he went, Seonghwa’s head ducked low as he exited, shielding his eyes with his hair. 

His stomach sank, knowing something had to be wrong- 

“Seonghwa’s… happy,” Yunho’s voice said carefully, Hongjoong’s eyes snapping back over to him with a frown. 

All of them looked slightly uncomfortable, but there were gentle smiles on their lips. 

“He was being honest with you,” San assured him, continuing to twirl his chopstick between his fingers. “He really does want to be your friend. And he really does appreciate that you gave us a chance.” 

Hongjoong knew this. 

But he shook his head, taking a moment to finally verbalize his confusion. “Why me?” he questioned. “If he had all of you already- and it’s very clear that you all mean the world to him- Why was he so obsessed with having me come around, too?”

Hongjoong didn’t add much to the group. And with how earnest Seonghwa was to convince him to join them, it made it seem like he’d never had a friend in his life. 

But he had five, seemingly wonderful friends that he cared for and who cared for him very deeply. 

So why Hongjoong? 

“Well, first of all, you can never have too many friends,” Wooyoung said, winking cheekily before sobering slightly. “And secondly… it’s different for Seonghwa,” he said carefully, slowly. 

Yeosang nodded quietly. “Certain things mean more to Seonghwa than do to us. Or they mean different things for him. And as much as we appreciate how you treat us… Seonghwa appreciates it a whole lot more.” 

That answered none of his questions. 

But it did make his chest hurt a little as he glanced back at the door. 

Actually, since joining their little group for lunch, Hongjoong’s interactions with Seonghwa had been relatively minimal. 

They both talked just as much as the other, but his direct interactions with Seonghwa were usually limited to the in-betweens of stories when they would catch each other’s eyes. Hongjoong had almost expected Seonghwa to try and monopolize more of his attention, but Seonghwa almost seemed content to sit back and watch. 

They had talked more than ever before, but Hongjoong still felt he had more one-on-one interactions with everyone but him. Even Mingi and Jongho, who only showed up every few days. 

Was that what was shining in Seonghwa’s eyes? Appreciation? 

Was that what he was grateful for? The fact that Hongjoong wasn’t afraid of them, just because of their money? That his respect and enjoyment of their company came from their personalities and not their status?

Was that so hard to find? 

Yeosang broke the heavy atmosphere by offering Hongjoong part of his chocolate cake. 

Lunch ended before Seonghwa came back. 

~~~~~~~~

It was late. 

Hongjoong was hunched over his homework, glancing at the bright light of his art room and desperately hoping it was good enough lighting to paint correctly by. 

It was a relatively shapeless form, but when he was done, it should create the outline of a man from the whiteness around the black shadows. 

Hopefully. 

His phone buzzed with a text as he stood back to examine his work. He fished it from his pocket, expecting a reminder to be healthy from his mom. But it was Seonghwa’s name appearing at the top of his screen. 

Seonghwa had set his own contact name as nothing but “Seonghwa.” Not even an emoji to go along with it. 

Seonghwa: Hello. 

Hongjoong almost snorted at how flat it came across. 

Seonghwa: I just wanted to let you know that I finally figured out my schedule, if you’d like to start planning our dinner. 

Hongjoong was going to roast the hell out of him for how he texted, but he frowned as he stared at the contact name. 

Hongjoong: How did you text me first? 

Hongjoong: How did you get my number to text me first? 

He stared at the screen, frowning deeper the more he thought about it. Seonghwa had input his number, but never took Hongjoong’s. Hongjoong had been too busy and never thought about the fact that he should text Seonghwa so Seonghwa could have his number, too. 

So how the hell had Seonghwa gotten his number to text first? 

The three little bubbles appeared for only a moment. 

Seonghwa: You can’t get mad at me. 

Oh, that was a great start. 

Seonghwa: I didn’t take it or anything! 

Seonghwa: I have access to phone numbers of all the people who go to SIU. It’s a… safety thing. I was going to wait and simply talk to you tomorrow, but I wanted to give you as much notice as possible. So I looked up the number to text you. 

Seonghwa: Sorry… 

Hongjoong frowned at his phone, getting a smudge of black on the corner as he typed. 

Hongjoong: So you had access to my phone number the whole time?

Seonghwa: Yes. 

Hongjoong: Then why did you bother asking me for it? Why give me yours? 

There was a longer pause here, Hongjoong’s heart beating a little faster than a moment ago, despite nothing exciting happening. 

Seonghwa: You said before that even if I have access to something, I should find out by more honest means. 

Seonghwa: So I waited until you agreed to give me your number. I didn’t want to look it up at all, but I wanted to give you enough notice. 

Seonghwa: I thought it would be better that way, I’m sorry. 

Hongjoong stared blankly at his screen for a minute. Had Seonghwa actually taken his words to heart? Actually tried to change his behavior on what Hongjoong said was right and wrong to him?

It wasn’t… It wasn’t that he expected the worst from Seonghwa, but… but it was something else… when his entire argument had been Seonghwa’s cluelessness to how Hongjoong’s world operated. 

But Seonghwa… was willing to learn and change, based on what Hongjoong said was right and wrong… the things that made him comfortable or not… 

Whether or not Seonghwa thought it was necessary to go through those hoops when he could just look up the number wasn’t the point. 

Even though he had the number… he waited until Hongjoong agreed that Seonghwa had earned the right to it. 

He must have been stunned too long before his phone buzzed again. 

Seonghwa: I’m sorry, I still should have asked. I didn’t mean to make that mistake again.

Seonghwa: I’m trying, but… 

Seonghwa: Sorry. 

Hongjoong managed to jerk himself out of the surprise to type back quickly. 

Hongjoong: It’s okay! You didn’t do anything wrong this time lol 

Hongjoong: I appreciate that you waited until I agreed to it first. 

Hongjoong: That actually… means a lot. Thanks

There were a few minutes that passed, and Hongjoong was almost afraid Seonghwa had put down his phone and walked away. 

Hongjoong: Sorry, I was just impressed that you remembered that I said that

Hongjoong: What’s your schedule look like? 

Another few minutes, and Hongjoong tried to keep working on his painting, even though he was glancing over at his phone every few seconds, waiting for it to go off. 

It was nearly ten minutes before he received a response, making him jump. 

Seonghwa: I apologize- I had to speak with my father, so I couldn’t respond. 

Seonghwa: If you said that something made you uncomfortable, of course I would do everything to not make that mistake again. I was afraid this was something else that was wrong. 

Seonghwa: I’m glad it wasn’t. 

Hongjoong smiled quietly, laughing at his phone. Seonghwa texted in formal paragraphs without emojis or anything. Hongjoong texted coherently, but it was so funny that he could hear everything in Seonghwa’s warm but formal voice. 

Seonghwa: I have a couple evenings free next week on Tuesday and Wednesday, but the day that would give us the most freedom and time would be this weekend. 

Seonghwa: I understand if it’s too sudden. If need be, simply give me a day you would prefer and I can make my schedule work around it. 

Hongjoong: Lol

Hongjoong: It’s not that sudden, I’ve got an entire day

Hongjoong: Don’t rearrange your schedule for something like dinner

Hongjoong: This weekend works fine. Is Saturday okay? I usually use Sundays for studying. 

He got another few layers of darkness before the response came. 

Seonghwa: Saturday works wonderfully! And it’s not just dinner, it’s a thank you. I want it to work well, so please let me know if you need a different day. 

He chuckled, still smiling. 

Hongjoong: I’m not that hard to please, you’ll find 

Hongjoong: What time Saturday? 

Seonghwa: You can choose

Hongjoong: You’re taking me out, so you can pick. I’m free all day 

Another short break as Hongjoong felt more able to continue painting, smiling quietly. 

Seonghwa really was just nice. His actions just had a way of making Hongjoong want to laugh, even without something being funny. 

He was endearing. And it had been a while since Hongjoong had found someone like that. Who just carried that with them in their everyday lives. 

His brush slowed until it rested gently against the canvas, Hongjoong distracted for a moment by a gentle smile stealing his lips. 

Seonghwa: You make it very hard to plan a dinner around you when you make me pick everything. 

Seonghwa: 7 PM? 

Hongjoong chuckled, smile growing as he shot back a quick confirmation that 7 was fine. 

He finished a hand before he responded. 

Seonghwa: That all sounds great. I’ll see you tomorrow at 7, then?

Hongjoong: Yep! 

He cringed as soon as he sent it, but tossed his phone into his lap so he couldn’t think about it. He wasn’t one to usually come across as peppy while texting, but he was nervous, okay?

Why… Why was he nervous? He frowned as he dragged his paintbrush across the canvas slowly. 

Well… he was probably nervous because… he was a little excited. 

It had been… 

He had to laugh self-deprecatingly. 

It had been a long time since he had gone out anywhere that wasn’t work or school. He’d eaten at restaurants by himself, but it had been a while since he’d gone somewhere with a friend. 

Hongjoong still had contact with all his old friends who were now two or more hours away, but… they were all in different parts of their lives. He might send them a happy birthday when it rolled around, but… 

They were different now, weren’t they? Different paths. And none of them had ever really reached out to Hongjoong, so he assumed they had kept the friendship, but maybe they could meet up during holidays when he went home? 

He’d left behind a lot of friends. 

He’d left behind… a lot of things. But he was slowly… sort of starting to gather some of his own things here… 

Hongjoong sighed quietly, forcing himself not to overthink the whole thing. 

His brush suddenly froze over the canvas as he stared at it in confusion, a sudden question popping in his mind. 

Why would Seonghwa have access to all phone numbers of the students of SIU? What safety thing? 

~~~~~~~~

Hongjoong woke up the next day feeling like he might vomit. 

It hadn’t quite settled on him until then that he was going out to dinner with Seonghwa… alone. 

No Wooyoung to break the silence or San to make weird bets or Yeosang to simply stand there as a referee… 

Just the two of them who hadn’t spoken much since Hongjoong joined their little group. What the hell would they talk about? It was a thank you for agreeing not to reveal Yeosang and Wooyoung’s relationship- what were you supposed to talk about during those kinds of dinners? 

Where were they going? Would it be crowded? Maybe he could make conversation about the food? 

He spent an hour in the morning trying to work on his English readings, but his mind kept wandering over to his closet and freaking out over what he should wear. 

It wasn’t even 11 AM. He had time to figure out his outfit after his homework was finished. 

But 11 turned into 12 and Hongjoong had made no progress, slamming the book closed with a sigh as he gathered his bag. 

He only worked in the campus library under the most dire of circumstances, but being at home was too confining right now. He needed to go out. 

He exited his dorm with his headphones in, walking the short distance to the library, grateful for the cool wind and the bright sun to clear his head from some of the panic. 

He had nothing to worry about. 

Talking to Seonghwa was easy. He was funny and nice… What was Hongjoong worried about? He probably came prepared with notecards of conversation topics. 

He would be fine. 

It was a Saturday, so the campus was empty for the first time in Hongjoong’s knowledge as he walked slowly, taking his time. 

He needed to keep calm. He was not going to work himself up into a panic about this. 

He’d gone to dinner with friends before. 

The library was relatively empty- only a handful of students either sleeping or working on computers. Not many were willing to give up their Saturday in the pursuit of knowledge. 

Hongjoong ignored the people who glanced up at him as he passed, finding a table hidden among the shelves of reference books and setting up his work station. 

The quiet atmosphere was hidden by his music playing, and he settled in, feeling content as he began reading. 

Yes, this had been a good decision. 

He flew through the readings, making annotations carefully in his margins as he stumbled over words or found oddly used ones. 

After that, he finished his online assignment for Sketching- vaguely wondering if Yunho had gotten started. It was tedious work when the class was supposed to be a practical course, but it needed stupid quizzes to fill in points. 

Halfway through, he had to remove his headphones to concentrate on the stupidly complicated questions, silently moving his lips to ensure he was understanding what they wanted. 

Disgusting. 

He finished the quiz and moved on, not bothering to replace his headphones, working on his Art App essay. He searched tirelessly through the ten sources he had pulled up for the one line he knew he had read somewhere-

“-hear about what happened?” someone’s voice whispered. 

Hongjoong glanced up and saw two girls standing on the other side of the reference shelves, holding books and whispering to each other a little too loud. 

Hongjoong held back a sigh, reaching for his headphones- 

“I did! No wonder Seonghwa has been so stressed out lately,” the other cooed regretfully. 

Hongjoong paused.

 He really, really, absolutely did not mean to freeze. If anything, he should have snatched his headphones back up and shoved them in to avoid hearing anything else. 

But… Was Seonghwa stressed out? 

He’d seemed fine every time they had seen each other? 

Hongjoong hesitated long enough for the first girl to sigh, shaking her head. 

“I’d be stressed, too,” she tutted. “I can’t believe an ambassador meeting would break down like that! I was all over the news,” she whispered. 

He frowned. Ambassador? 

“It wasn’t Seonghwa’s father’s fault,” the other whispered quickly. “My mother knows the scribe who was present. The French ambassador said something way out of line! But now we’re the ones who have to stoop and grovel to fix relations,” she huffed. 

The first girl clicked her tongue shamefully. “I hope his father isn’t giving him too hard a time… But Seonghwa’s been really busy-” 

“I know! I asked if he wanted to attend a gala for my father’s business partners at the end of the month, but he said he’ll have a meeting with his father on that day!” She huffed, as if this was ridiculous, reaching and grabbing a book from the shelf. 

“His schedule is booked that far out?” she hissed in disbelief. 

“I guess so…” She shook her head, clutching her books tighter as they began to walk away. “I hope things work out… Ambassador Park isn’t one to just let that sort of disrespect slide. I wonder what he’ll make-” 

Ambassador Park?

Hongjoong felt like he’d been punched in the gut as they walked out of earshot, staring at his headphones blankly. 

The Ambassador Park? Seonghwa’s father was Korea’s Head Ambassador?

Hongjoong knew about him vaguely as someone he’d learned about while related to current events. People liked him, he was good at his job, and he was usually very heavily involved in any sort of foreign affairs. 

Park Seonghwa was Ambassador Park’s son? 

He tried to remember if he knew anything about whether the man was married or had kids… He hadn’t paid that much attention to the man’s personal life, though… 

That was the man… that Seonghwa didn’t want Hongjoong to know was his father? 

Hongjoong’s stomach twisted suddenly, painful and sickening. 

He stood, shoving his things away and hurrying out of the library that was suddenly a little suffocating. He couldn’t quite label the ache in his stomach as he rushed back to his dorm. 

It wasn’t anything to do with Seonghwa… 

He had no problem with who his father was, but he didn’t know why Seonghwa cared so much that he didn’t know. 

He was still reeling that Seonghwa’s father was someone that high up in the government. 

Now, he sort of understood why Wooyoung had found it so funny that Hongjoong had threatened to call the cops on Seonghwa. What sort of protection did he even need to have? 

It almost made Hongjoong laugh. 

He paused for a moment. Would an ambassador have access to student phone numbers? Probably? 

He shook his head sharply and hurried off. 

The following hour was spent trying to shove away the sick feeling in his stomach as he showered, like the overheard conversation was clinging to his skin like dirt that he scrubbed away. 

He felt queasy. 

He stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, frowning and trying to figure out why his stomach hurt so bad, why he felt so jittery and twitchy. 

He scrubbed at his eyes, trying to place the way his blood ran cold and stiff. 

It wasn’t until he saw his phone sitting on the bed that Hongjoong froze, winded as he recognized what the ugly sensation in his stomach was. 

Guilt. 

Hongjoong sat… slowly… on his bed, picking up the phone gently. 

It was guilt settling in his stomach, beginning from the moment he had begun listening to the conversation. 

The dark screen showed him his reflection. 

Hypocrite. 

He shouldn’t have listened in. It was clearly important to Seonghwa that Hongjoong didn’t know who his father was. 

The moment Hongjoong heard they were talking about Seonghwa’s father, he should have blocked them out. 

If he was going to find out, he should have waited until Seonghwa decided that he could know. 

Swallowing thickly, feeling sick, he opened his phone, pulling up the text messages between them. 

He stared at the little blinking line that prompted him to write something. 

He rolled his lips. He had just been so touched and impressed that Seonghwa would respect Hongjoong’s wishes… 

He exited the app, pulling up his phone and finding Seonghwa’s name further down the list. 

Was it rude to just call? What if he wasn’t available? 

Hongjoong’s thumb pressed his name quickly, holding the phone to his ear as he grimaced. If Seonghwa couldn’t talk, it would just go to voicemail. 

Maybe it was a bit obsessive to contact him so soon when it was- (he glanced at the clock on the wall)- only a couple of hours until Seonghwa was supposed to see him anyway. 

But Hongjoong… Hongjoong had been so fierce towards Seonghwa about respecting boundaries that people set… He had been so angry at Yunho and San for eavesdropping… 

Hypocrite. 

Hongjoong had always told himself that he was going to be a good person. 

His mom had always praised him for his honesty, for his willingness to do what was right, even when it was hard… 

Was it pathetic that something like this was almost sending him spiraling? Probably. 

But he still tapped his foot frantically the longer the phone rang. 

If he was going to tell Seonghwa that he had found out (and he would tell him) he wanted it to be as soon as possible. 

For his own sanity… he needed it to be as soon as possible. He didn’t want Seonghwa to think he had tried to hide it or that he meant to do it- 

“Hongjoong?” Seonghwa’s confused voice came suddenly, almost making Hongjoong drop the phone. “What’s wrong? Why are you calling?” 

There was utter confusion there, but an underlying sense of urgency, like the only way Seonghwa could imagine Hongjoong calling him would be during an emergency or something. 

Hongjoong pressed his lips together, gripping the blankets on the bed tightly. “Um…” 

Hongjoong was suddenly torn between feeling foolish for calling for such a small thing… and wondering just how small a thing it was to Seonghwa… 

It didn’t matter to Hongjoong who Seonghwa’s father was… but it wasn’t for Hongjoong to decide that it didn’t matter. 

“What?” Seonghwa asked, voice rising in urgency at Hongjoong’s silence. “Did something happen? Where are you?” 

Hongjoong had the distinct impression that Seonghwa was currently willing to drop whatever it was he was doing to go to Hongjoong, if Hongjoong asked him… 

He didn’t know why, but the thought made his stomach sink. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he said finally, hearing the way Seonghwa breathed out on the other side. “Don’t worry about me, I just…” 

He hesitated again. 

“....Hongjoong?” Seonghwa asked, calmer and gentler this time. 

“I was sitting in the library,” Hongjoong finally said- voice quiet but firm. “Two girls came up and were talking about some stuff that happened in the news….” He swallowed. “They, uh… They mentioned your… your father and his position and everything…” 

He winced, holding his breath. 

The other end was silent. Not even breathing or static to break it. 

Hongjoong wet his lips nervously. “I- I shouldn’t have kept listening,” He said quickly. “I didn’t do it- I mean-” Still silence. “I didn’t do it to spite you or go against what you said,” he assured him desperately. “It was a shitty thing to do, but… but I wanted… to make sure you knew…” 

He trailed off, his stomach churning. 

How much did it mean to Seonghwa that Hongjoong didn’t know? More than that- how would he feel about Hongjoong finding out by his own conscious choice to listen in on a conversation about it? 

“...Seonghwa?” Hongjoong murmured hesitantly when the silence continued to persist. 

“Do…” 

Seonghwa’s voice came and left, making Hongjoong stiffen. 

“Are you… free to go to dinner a little early?” Seonghwa asked quietly, voice completely calm and gentle. “I think we… need to talk about a few… things.” 

~~~~~~~~

A black car pulled up to the street beside the dorms, Hongjoong walked towards it with his jean jacket wrapped tighter around himself. 

A man in a suit walked around from the driver seat, and Hongjoong paused as he recognized him as the Sunglasses Guy who stood outside their lunchroom door. 

Did he work for Seonghwa specifically? Hongjoong had assumed it was someone from the school or someone related to all seven of them who was there to keep people in line. 

The door was opened, though Sunglasses looked as displeased as ever to have Hongjoong approaching. 

Hongjoong ducked in, the car a good, warm temperature. 

Seonghwa sat in the backseat as well, glancing over when Hongjoong entered. Hongjoong didn’t meet his eyes, sitting and letting Sunglasses close the door behind him, hooking his seatbelt without looking over. 

He was suddenly aware of how small the car was, despite how much leg room he was experiencing. 

“Hongjoong.” 

He looked over, hoping that he didn’t look too pathetic. 

Seonghwa’s lips twitched into something like a smile, though his eyes were heavy. He was dressed in a dark black suit, making Hongjoong suddenly feel painfully underdressed in his painted jacket and ripped jeans and sneakers. 

“I’m not angry or upset… nothing like that,” he said gently, assuring Hongjoong quietly. His sad smile grew. “Should we save this talk for the restaurant?” 

Hongjoong nodded without even considering it, just going along with it for now. 

It crossed his mind whether Seonghwa was really capable of being angry at someone… but then he remembered the glare he’d sent to Sunglasses… 

Hongjoong shook his head to clear it, staring out the tinted window. The scenery flew by, Hongjoong idly noting that this was probably the nicest car he’d been in. 

“Where… are we heading?” he asked carefully, glancing over at Seonghwa who was typing rapidly on his phone. 

“A steak restaurant,” Seonghwa answered without looking up, making Hongjoong’s stomach drop. “I picked one with excellent food, but that is very casual.” 

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong said, straightening and staring at his clothing. “What happened to going somewhere small? Just a casual-” 

“It’s a very laid back atmosphere,” Seonghwa assured him, lips twitching as he continued to text someone. “Don’t worry-” 

“Seonghwa, I’m not-” Hongjoong tugged at the frayed edges of his pants, mortified and face heating. “I’m- I’m not dressed for a steak restaurant, no matter how casual! I’m in jeans! You’re wearing a suit ,” he hissed. 

Seonghwa’s fingers finally paused as he glanced up calmly. Dark brown eyes trailed Hongjoong up and down- from his fraying pants to his smudged and faded jean jacket, finally landing on his face and locking eyes with him. 

Seonghwa’s smile grew warmer, reaching and thawing his eyes a bit. 

“I think you look perfectly lovely,” he said, as if it were obvious, returning to staring at his screen. 

Hongjoong did not expect the way his face warmed at the words. 

Well, not the words. But the way they were said. 

As if Hongjoong’s outfit was one that Seonghwa thought exactly perfect for the situation, regardless of what it was. 

As if Seonghwa thought, even if he were wearing a suit, that Hongjoong stood on par with him just fine. 

“And I’m sorry for how formally I’m dressed,” Seonghwa continued, finally closing his phone. “I was…” His expression flickered. “I was just finishing up a meeting with my… father,” he said carefully. “I didn’t have time to change.” 

Hongjoong winced. “You- You didn’t have to drop everything,” he said weakly. “We could have waited-” 

“I didn’t rush out of anywhere,” Seonghwa assured him, smiling as if it was sweet for Hongjoong to be concerned. “I just decided to forgo getting changed.” 

Seonghwa reached up, undoing the tie around his throat and pulling it off, letting it sit on the middle seat between them. He unbuttoned his two top buttons, running a hand through his hair to turn it from carefully combed to artfully mussed. 

That wasn’t fucking fair. 

Seonghwa smiled at him, slowly lifting the weights from his eyes into something more genuine. “There,” he said kindly. “Now, we’re both equally casual.” 

Fuck no. 

Hongjoong was dressed like an art student without a smock (which he was). And Seonghwa looked like a fucking model for post-long-day-at-work sexiness. 

No, they were not anywhere near the same level. 

But Seonghwa stared at Hongjoong as if he truly believed it, and Hongjoong simply sighed quickly, turning away before his face could heat in embarrassment again. 

“It’s definitely not equally casual,” he muttered. 

Seonghwa chuckled, light and genuine. “Well, unless you’ve brought an extra shirt with you, I’m afraid it’s all I can do. Would you rather I take off the suit jacket?” 

Hongjoong turned his face to Seonghwa- momentarily forgetting to be guilty- and gave him a flat look. “Seonghwa, you could wear a trash bag and still never be the same kind of casual.” 

He looked a mix between offended and amused. “And why is that?” he asked, tilting his head curiously. Endearingly. 

Hongjoong cocked an eyebrow, wondering if Seonghwa was playing dumb or if he genuinely didn’t know. He highly suspected the latter. 

“Because you’re ridiculously handsome, alright?” Hongjoong said, almost laughing with saying it. 

Seonghwa, however, frowned gently, leaning back in his seat. “Why do you say that as if you aren’t?” he asked slowly, as if truly confused. 

Well, first of all, Hongjoong was not handsome. If anything, he might be considered pretty- which is what his mom always said. But maybe if given the right tools, Hongjoong could stand on a platform with Seonghwa… But Seonghwa seemed to just naturally carry that unfair face. 

“I’m different from you,” Hongjoong assured him. 

“You’re handsome,” Seonghwa said firmly, frowning in deeper confusion. “Why would you think you weren’t?” 

“People have different levels of handsomeness Seonghwa,” he said, laughing quietly as he looked out the window. 

“That’s not true.” 

“So you think everyone who meets in the lunchroom is as handsome as someone like Yeosang?” Hongjoong challenged with a laugh. 

Seonghwa’s expression pulled down further. “They don’t have to be.” 

“You’re all handsome,” Hongjoong explained. “But if you go out, there’s going to be one person that everyone looks at.” He gestured between them with a smile. “And between us, it’s always going to be you, Seonghwa.” 

Seonghwa looked almost upset by the statement, making Hongjoong frown as well. 

“Does it matter who everyone looks at?” Seonghwa asked genuinely, eyes gentle. “Are you trying to impress them?”

“No, but-” 

“Truthfully, they would likely be looking at you,” Seonghwa said, staring at Hongjoong innocently. “I’m dressed like the rest of them- in boring suits. You’re wearing your passion and personality on your sleeves bravely… people will always look at you for that.” 

Hongjoong was momentarily stunned by such a… poetic statement about how he dressed. He glanced down at himself, spotting a tear on the inside of his jacket. 

Wearing his passion and personality bravely… 

“I think most people will assume I’m a hooligan, rather than think I have a passion,” Hongjoong said honestly. “I don’t think most people see the world quite like you do, Seonghwa.” 

It almost pained him to say it. 

Because Seonghwa… was like a child. 

Innocent and genuine… unaware of how Hongjoong’s world worked… and seeming to assume most people would view the world with as much warmth as he did. 

His expression drew further down… He stared at Hongjoong as if he couldn’t understand what he was saying. 

“I think I’m handsome, don’t get me wrong,” Hongjoong said firmly. “I think I look fucking good in the things I create, and I’m never going to let someone tell me what I should and shouldn’t wear.” 

Seonghwa waited for the other shoe. 

“But,” Hongjoong murmured, shrugging, “I’m also aware that there are millions of people directly around me who are more attractive than I am to the general public. And I’m okay with that. I don’t care who finds me handsome- all I care about is that I like how I look.” 

And it had taken Hongjoong the better part of his life to come to that conclusion. 

That it didn’t matter if he was the most attractive or the one turning heads. It didn’t matter if, in comparison, he was the “ugly” friend. 

He looked in the mirror and he liked what he saw. That was the only thing he started to care about, when he sorted himself out and stopped hiding the fact he liked wearing bright colors and stupid looking accessories. 

Seonghwa was still staring and processing, as if translating each word Hongjoong said, line by line. 

“I…” He hesitated. “I don’t know if I should commemorate you… or try and convince you further of how handsome you are.” 

Hongjoong’s lips quirked. “You’d be wasting your breath to convince me. I already what I am, and I don’t care if other people know it or not.” 

This, he had come to the conclusion of, with his mom’s help. 

With this… he was happy. 

Seonghwa still seemed to be grasping the concept, though, when the car pulled to a stop and Seonghwa’s door was opened. “We’ve arrived,” Sunglasses said sourly. 

Seonghwa didn’t move immediately, staring at Hongjoong differently with the light outside backlighting him. 

As if he were marveling over Hongjoong. 

Hongjoong looked away quickly. “Let’s go,” he said, opening his own door. “We’ve still got other stuff to talk about.” 

~~~~~~~~

While the restaurant was most certainly not the fanciest Hongjoong knew existed in the city, it was most definitely fancier than the chicken joint he frequented near campus. 

He sat silent- glancing around at the tables that were covered in white tablecloths and wine glasses that Seonghwa requested to be removed from their table. 

The people wore formal black suits and beautiful dresses. 

It was clear from the beginning that he and Seonghwa were the most underdressed people… but Hongjoong did feel minimally better when Seongwha removed his suit jacket, leaving him in just slacks and his casually buttoned shirt. 

Hongjoong gestured for Seonghwa to take the lead because most of the terms on the menu were ones Hongjoong didn’t even know how to pronounce. 

The waitress was nice, even if she eyed the two of them up slowly. Seonghwa ordered for both of them, glancing at Hongjoong after each statement, which Hongjoong just nodded along with. 

They were brought a little basket of bread and butter, small plates to eat off of, and were assured their food would be right out. 

When Seonghwa took a roll, gesturing for Hongjoong to do the same, he suddenly remembered the purpose of meeting with Seonghwa earlier than intended. 

Seonghwa glanced up when Hongjoong didn’t move to take any food, slowly placing his bread down as his expression sobered. 

“Would you rather we discuss everything first?” he asked quietly. 

Hongjoong still felt a little queasy and nodded. 

Seonghwa nodded easily, pushing away his little plate and setting his elbows on the table, leaning on his hands. 

“I’m not upset that you found out,” Seonghwa said quietly, glancing between Hongjoong’s eyes and the basket of bread to avoid staring. “It really wasn’t anything but selfishness from me that didn’t want you to know.” 

Hongjoong pressed his lips together. He didn’t want to interrupt. But he leaned forward as well. “I still shouldn’t have listened. I’m sorry. I was so adamant about it with you, and then I did the same.” 

Seonghwa shrugged. “Maybe it’s a break of trust to you, but I honestly don’t care that you know, Hongjoong.” 

“That’s not true,” Hongjoong said softly, fingers curling. “If that was true, you wouldn’t have danced around not mentioning him at every turn. It matters to you.” 

Seonghwa didn’t dispute it, nodding as his eyes lost focus for a moment as he sighed. “It does matter,” he said quietly. “But it wasn’t that I didn’t want you to know who my father was. Rather, I didn’t want you knowing my father to change anything.” 

“I don’t care who your father is,” Hongjoong said quickly, leaning further in, eyes hard. “Honestly, this is much better than the gang leader I was expecting, given how secretive you were.” 

Seonghwa chuckled, shaking his head good naturedly as he lifted quiet eyes to Hongjoong. 

“Let’s start from the beginning,” he said as he straightened. He smiled gently. “My father is Ambassador Park and my mother is considered his right hand woman. They’re both very involved in every political and foreign occurence in the country. I am being trained by both of them to potentially take over for my father, or to serve beside him as another ambassador.” 

Well… it was nothing that Hongjoong hadn’t already assumed… 

“That sounds like quite a demanding job,” he murmured, aware of how quiet the restaurant was. 

Seonghwa shrugged. “It’s a job learned through practice so much of my time is given to attending meetings and practices with them. They are demanding and expect a lot from me, but I’m able to provide so it isn’t bothersome.” 

It sounded very fucking bothersome to Hongjoong, but it wasn’t his place to say so, he supposed. 

“The man whom you’ve so affectionately labeled Sunglasses is my personal bodyguard,” Seonghwa continued. “He is charged with keeping me safe, as children of political leaders are always under higher risk to be taken and held for ransom, or simply killed for the fun of it.” 

Hongjoong nearly choked on his own spit with how casually Seonghwa said it. 

But Hongjoong heard it… the same tone that Yeosang had used when saying no one cared what he had to say. 

Perhaps, once, that fact that burdened Seonghwa beyond belief… but now, it had become nothing but a background reality. 

Hongjoong also made a noise of realization. “That would be… the reason you wound up in the back of a trunk.” 

Seonghwa nodded, lips twitching at the memory. “I’ve been trained since birth, Hongjoong, to be an Ambassador’s son, and then an ambassador myself. I am constantly accompanied by personal security-” 

“Not always,” Hongjoong said frowning. “I’ve seen you without Sunglasses before. Like when we met in the alleyway.” 

Seonghwa chuckled, shaking his head. “He’s very good at blending in. But, yes, he does always have his sights on me. Or at least is very close so he may get to me.” 

Hongjoong suddenly looking around the restaurant, having assumed that Sunglasses was waiting in the car- 

“He’s observing from near the kitchen,” Seonghwa told him, still laughing quietly, demurely. “Don’t mind him, you get used to it.” He waved a hand. “But I grew up with constant security… and also a wall between me and the rest of the world.” 

Hongjoong frowned gently, something in his chest tugging as Seonghwa continued smiling at him. 

It was almost as if he stared at Hongjoong so that he didn’t have to look at something else. As if there was something in the corner of his vision that he desperately didn’t want to acknowledge. 

“I grew up playing with other children,” Seonghwa assured him. “And I had so many friends, I was never lonely.” 

There was very clearly a very large But hanging in the air as Seonghwa took a small sip of water. 

“However,” he said quietly, “I was the son of one of the most powerful ambassadors in Korea. And the parents of the children I was surrounded with knew that. As did the people who took care of me. Every person within my radius was and is a threat to me. So, I was allowed to play and interact as I pleased… but…” 

He seemed to struggle with how to phrase it, Hongjoong waiting silently, continuing to feel a little sick. 

“I was treated differently,” Seonghwa finally said, nodding with finality. “Especially as I grew older… the people around me were allowed to act as they pleased, but at any sign of a threat, I was removed.” 

Hongjoong took a sip of water to have something to do. 

Seonghwa chuckled. “And it doesn’t really matter how good a friend they are, that tends to dampen things. People weren’t afraid of me by any means,” he assured him. “But… they were aware that I was different. And every touch and action they performed showed it. They were hesitant without even realizing they were being it.”

Hongjoong’s stomach dropped as he stared in blatant pity as Seongwha spoke all these facts as things that most definitely hurt him… but that had become nothing but life, at this point. 

“They were too aware of the security surrounding me,” Seonghwa said simply. “Too obsessed with the idea that I was someone important. Like a family heirloom you’re afraid to touch. Either you’re afraid of breaking it or you don’t feel like you should be able to touch it.” 

Hongjoong thought back to the enigma that Seonghwa was. 

All the dozens of people surrounding him, but never touching long or at all. 

That seemingly invisible line between him and the others. The way they touched and then retreated. The way Seonghwa smiled at them warmly, but was hesitant to touch them back. 

The air of almost respect that followed more closely than an air of friendship did. 

Like the radius of security around the president, ensuring no one got too close. 

The people of SIU had imposed that on themselves, seeing Seonghwa- not as an equal, but someone of more value. Someone made of something different than themselves. 

And maybe… maybe if Hongjoong had always known what Seonghwa’s father did… maybe he, too, would have treated him with that distance. 

Because Seonghwa was important. 

Not just powerful or rich… but in a position of importance, training to be something that held significant value to their country. 

Not just a designer or a hotelier. He was different. 

And maybe Seonghwa spoke about it with peace, but Hongjoong could see it. The part of him that, despite accepting it as reality, bore it as a weight. 

“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong found himself croaking heavily. “That… I’m sorry,” he said, not finding any other words to articulate. 

He was sorry. Sorry that anyone had to go through their life believing that they were different. That they were accepted but shunned at the same time… 

It was sad. 

And Hongjoong felt for him, deep in his chest. He was actually surprised by how deep the hurt reached.  

Seonghwa suddenly smiled, even though his eyes were unbelievably sad. 

“You joined SIU,” he said quietly. “And I only ever saw you at a distance- just a flash of genuine color among the sea of people wearing props.” 

Once again with the poetics, but Hongjoong didn’t have the presence to comment on it. 

Seonghwa smiled wider, his eyes beginning to take on that one light- that admiration and gratitude. “You walked through a sea of people who rejected you completely… and you ignored them. You were so unbothered by everything, so focused on your life, your own choices… Nothing they did ever phased you.” 

Hongjoong couldn’t see what was so great about that. 

He had just gone about his life- why was it so impressive?

“I saw you at a distance, but I…” Seonghwa paused, pressing his lips together, as if trying not to say something wrong. “You didn’t care,” he said quietly. “You didn’t care who these people were who mocked you, who their parents were… It didn’t matter to you that they were leagues above you in the food chain… you fought and spoke to them as if they were no better than you.” 

“They aren’t better than me,” Hongjoong said, throat a little thick. “They think they are, but they aren’t. And it isn’t impressive that I know that, Seonghwa.” 

“It is,” Seonghwa pressed, expression twisting a little. “It is , Hongjoong, because among these people, money and status is everything. It’s why I’m the most popular- why all of us are accepted, rather than scorned. Because we have the things they deem important. But you… you didn’t care about those things that I’ve spent my entire life being told were the only things that mattered.” 

Seonghwa shook his head gently, stunned. 

“You looked at us and you saw bullies, not rich kids. You stood up to them, regardless of what they might have been able to do against you. You were fearless, Hongjoong-” 

“I’m not some hero,” Hongjoong said firmly, shifting in his seat, even as his eyes sharpened. “None of these things are impressive, Seonghwa.” 

“Maybe not impressive,” Seonghwa allowed. “But they are things that made you stand out more than your choice of dress or sexuality ever could, Hongjoong.” 

It seemed unreal. 

“The fact that you looked at someone who was clearly more powerful than you in every way… and told him to fuck off because of what he had said to you…” Seonghwa smiled. “No one has ever, in my life, cursed me out, aside from my closest friends. Someone so distant from me would never risk something like that.” 

It was just life. 

It was just what you did. 

If someone shoved at you, you shoved back. If someone came too close, you stepped away and hissed until they stopped. 

They weren’t things to be praised. 

But… the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Seonghwa and the others stood out because they weren’t assholes, like the rest. 

It… made sense that Seonghwa would notice him because Hongjoong stood out as someone who wasn’t bound by their system of money and power. 

“That was after you tried to ask me out,” Hongjoong murmured, running his finger over the rim of his glass. “Why did you ask to begin with?”

“I already told you that,” Seonghwa said, chuckling. “Because I saw you, and I heard about the things you did. I would see you- everyday, walking to your dorm, alone… I saw how you reacted to things, how you carried yourself… How you never stooped to their level… How you held yourself proudly, despite how many times they tried to push you over-” 

Seonghwa stopped himself, swallowing thickly as he waved a quiet hand. 

“I admit… it was perhaps ambitious to take that admiration I held for you and try to turn it romantic. That was unfair of me, and looking back, rather presumptuous.” He winced. “I’m sorry for that. I guess… I just didn’t know how else to show it. When you rejected it, I realized that I could have simply tried to befriend you normally.” 

Hongjoong wouldn’t feel bad for that first meeting… but he would regret the anger that followed it, despite the evidence provided to him that he didn’t need to feel it. 

“But Hongjoong…” Seonghwa laughed airly, in disbelief. “The way you treated me-” 

He winced. 

“You… you treated me… like a normal person,” he murmured quietly. “You didn’t know who my father was, and you didn’t care. You fought me and threatened me and snapped at me… You got angry and you stayed angry until I fixed myself… You held me accountable for myself- and you placed yourself- your own feelings- above mine every time.” 

Hongjoong stopped flinching and stared, squinting as he tried to decipher if he was being criticized or complimented. 

“I’m… sorry,” Hongjoong decided. “I was going through some-” 

“I’m not blaming you,” Seonghwa said quickly, shaking his heads sharply. “No- Hongjoong, I-” 

Seonghwa made a noise of quiet frustration, as if unsure how he could possibly make Hongjoong understand. 

“Hongjoong, I have never… in all my life been treated normally,” Seonghwa explained quietly, hands spreading over the table. “I have always been kept within a bubble, and then you told me to fuck myself and popped my bubble.” 

Hongjoong laughed nervously. 

“And I… Hongjoong, it’s…” He stared at Hongjoong, that light shining in his eyes. “Hongjoong, it is unbelievably freeing to be around you. In ways I never thought were possible until you were in front of me.” 

Something punched Hongjoong in the gut. 

Even if he didn’t truly understand… his body knew that this was something very… very important. 

“I don’t feel… different around you,” Seonghwa said, almost a little breathless. “I feel… free. As if for the first time, someone was seeing straight through me, instead of only being able to see where I was coming from.” 

It… it didn’t feel like anything special. 

It felt like nothing for Hongjoong to treat Seonghwa no differently than he would any other human being. 

But it was so… so startlingly clear that to Seonghwa… this was unbelievable. Unimaginable. As if he had been handed the one thing money couldn’t buy. 

Something so easy for Hongjoong meant the world and more to Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa didn’t understand his world. But Hongjoong didn’t understand the consequences of Seonghwa’s either. 

“That is why I so desperately wanted to befriend you,” Seonghwa admitted. “I was upset at your prejudices against me… but above even that, I wanted… I wanted that freedom. Hell, even if you didn’t befriend me, it felt freeing just to have you scold me again and again-” 

He laughed, looking at Hongjoong as if he were something so incredibly special. 

Hongjoong stared, stunned. 

“And I know… it means nothing to you. And it probably seems incredibly silly,” Seonghwa allowed. “But… being seen… being treated as someone normal…” 

Seonghwa sighed, dropping his head quietly. 

“I suppose this is a thank you for two reasons,” Seonghwa murmured. “For holding Yeosang and Wooyoung’s secret… and for giving me that.” He chuckled wetly. “I suppose you were right. I did have an ulterior motive. I did have something that I wanted from you. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you before. I’m sorry I said I didn’t have any. But… thank you for giving it to me, regardless.” 

Hongjoong stared. And he wondered. 

Because Hongjoong was… nothing special. He was simply someone who had decided that he wouldn’t take shit from anyone. 

He didn’t fear these people because they would only grow on his fear. It would only make them think they could control him with it. 

That they could make him perform with it. But he was not here to entertain. 

And originally… that’s what Hongjoong assumed Seonghwa wanted, with how earnest he was being. He assumed that it was genuine desire to get to know Hongjoong… but that his desire came from being bored and finding a brand new thing to occupy his time. 

He hadn’t… quite imagined something like this. 

“I… didn’t realize…” Hongjoong murmured heavily. 

Seonghwa’s lips twitched. “I never told you,” he said, like forgiveness. His smile turned sad once more. “I guess, at the end of it all, it was really me deceiving you. I purposely tried to hide things from you because I didn’t want… you to treat me differently. And for that… I’m sorry, Hongjoong. You deserved the truth from the start.” 

He did. 

Hongjoong did deserve the truth. 

But… he stared at Seonghwa, chest tightening at how ready he was to admit blame on himself. 

Hongjoong swallowed. “You deserved to be around people who saw you for who you were,” he said quietly, making Seonghwa look up quickly. “I might not think what I did was special… but it’s not about how you view your actions. It’s how others perceive them.” 

The waitress suddenly appeared, dropping two plates in front of them. Neither of them broke eye contact with each other as he left, as if she had never appeared. 

Hongjoong shifted. “I won’t treat you differently… unless you want me to,” Hongjoong said firmly. “I don’t think you’re better than me… anymore than I think anyone else is better than me. I won’t treat you any differently than I have.” 

Seonghwa swallowed visibly, almost looking scared. 

Hongjoong nodded slowly. “However… I’d like to avoid getting side checked by your bodyguard if I smack you or something…” 

Seonghwa snorted, dropping his head- clearly caught off guard by the statement, covering his mouth quickly as a few people looked over at the loud laugh. 

Hongjoong felt his own lips twitch as the mood slowly began to rise as Seonghwa stared at him with those eyes. 

“Don’t worry,” Seonghwa said, still hiding behind his hand. “I’ve given him special orders to leave you alone.” 

“Is that why he glares at me all the time?” he demanded. 

Seonghwa chuckled, nodding. “Probably. But he doesn’t really like anyone. Including me. He’s quite controlling, and I’ve found little ways to break free, so he’s never too pleased with me.” 

Despite… everything that had been said… Seonghwa looked happy. Even if he seemed regretful or tired… he smiled, and it looked genuine. 

No wonder Seonghwa has been so stressed out lately.

Hongjoong paused, Seonghwa’s smile fading at his sudden stillness. 

Hongjoong scanned his face, but found no signs of stress, aside from the heaviness of their previous conversation. 

“What?” he questioned quietly, leaning forward- looking ready to jump across the table if something was wrong. 

Hongjoong had watched his mom his entire life. And it wasn’t until he was almost too old that he realized how much the work she did weighed on her. 

She was always smiling, always put together… It was rare for him to see her break down, and he never realized just how much she carried until much too late in his life. 

The point was, he knew that people could hide their burdens well when they wanted to badly enough. 

“I…” Hongjoong hesitated, wondering if this was way too out of the blue, but he pressed on at the gentle raise of Seonghwa eyebrow. “I consider us… to be friends, Seonghwa,” he said quietly. “And even if we haven’t known each other for very long… I hope you know that… if you’re ever going through something… I’ll help anyway I can.” 

Seonghwa looked pleasantly startled by the sudden offer, the surprise slowly melting into something warmer as he smiled gratefully. “I hope you know that I would do the same,” Seonghwa said, lips curled up and eyes gentle. “But why bring it up?” 

Hongjoong shrugged. “Nothing, just… when I was…listening,” he said, grimacing. “One of the girls said that you seemed really stressed, and I didn’t notice anything, but she said you had your schedule booked out because she asked you to go to a gala with her, and you said you had a meeting-” 

He took a breath as Seonghwa looked quietly bemused. 

“I’m just saying,” he said quickly. “Maybe I don’t know you well enough to tell when you’re having trouble, but… Even if I’m brash and don’t really make it seem like it… I’ll listen, if you ever want to talk.” 

Maybe rich people could afford therapists, but Hongjoong would still offer. 

And Seonghwa still looked slightly befuddled before his expression cleared into one of understanding that grew into amusement. 

“Oh! Oh-” He laughed, ducking his head and running a hand through his hair. “ That gala,” he said, lifting bright eyes that shone. “Sooya invited me, but I really didn’t want to go, so I told her my father had a meeting that day. I use that excuse a lot, if I can’t find another reason not to go to those things.” 

Hongjoong blinked, silent. 

“So… you’re not stressed?”

Seonghwa laughed, shaking his head. “Maybe I am stressed, but no more than anyone else,” he assured Hongjoong. “I have my ups and downs, but nothing to worry about. People think my schedule is a lot fuller than it is because of the excuses I give.” 

Hongjoong was about to make a statement about how dishonest that was, especially if people were becoming concerned for him… 

But… Seonghwa had made it clear that there was a wall between all these people. 

So, very likely, the girl only asked him to go for either eye candy or to say she had someone of status there. 

Fuck it, in that case, Hongjoong had no right, especially when he used to lie that his mom was making him do chores so he couldn’t hang out on the weekends. 

He hummed, staring at Seonghwa who smiled quietly back. “I see… Well, either way, I do consider you a friend, Seonghwa.” 

The warmth in his eyes grew deeper, like a plant setting down roots to remain there. “I know,” he said quietly, contently. “I’m glad.” 

Once more… as if he was honored to have Hongjoong as a friend. 

And maybe it seemed ridiculous to Hongjoong… but it wasn’t his place to decide what a friendship should mean to Seonghwa. 

He smiled back quietly, feeling a little more at ease about everything- from their friendship to the mysteries that had surrounded Seonghwa. 

“We should eat,” Seonghwa said suddenly, breaking eye contact and dropping his gaze to his food. “It’d be a shame to come to a nice place and let the food get cold.” 

Hongjoong hummed in agreement, picking up his silverware (very much aware of the fact that this was probably a nicer steak than he’d ever eaten in his life), but he glanced back at Seonghwa. 

“Thanks,” he said after a pause. 

Seonghwa stopped where he had a bite halfway to his mouth, looking confused. 

“For… not giving up on me,” Hongjoong laughed, embarrassed at the phrasing. “I mean… I know I was an ass, but you kept pushing, and even though I was so sure I was going to regret it…” He managed a genuine smile that tugged at his heart. “I don’t think I realized how lonely I was until I had friends again.” 

Seonghwa’s expression fell into something almost heartbroken, and that was the last thing Hongjoong wanted him to feel. 

“It’s not that serious,” he laughed, shaking his head. “But… when I got here, I was so set on just getting in, learning, and then getting out. I had no place for friends there. And maybe it’s only temporary, or something, but… I am really glad that you invited me in.” 

Seonghwa’s crestfallen countenance slowly grew into something pleased, as if he was honored to be able to give Hongjoong that. 

“It wasn’t hard,” Seonghwa assured him, completing the bite he had been in the process of taking. “You’re practically magnetic Hongjoong.” 

At that, Hongjoong snorted- perhaps a bit too loud, but it was so ridiculously funny. 

“Maybe- only if me and everyone around me are the same kind of pole,” he chuckled. 

But Seonghwa shook his head, not even grinning at the joke. “See yourself how you want,” he said calmly, taking another bite. “There will always be people who reject your company… and those who welcome it.” He glanced up, something almost knowing in his eyes. “I will always welcome it, Hongjoong.” 

If Hongjoong thought less of Seonghwa… maybe he might think some of his poetic lines were bordering on flirtatious. 

But… he didn’t even really dwell on it before accepting it as something that Seonghwa just did. He spoke these words as easily as breathing, and Hongjoong needed to stop being so defensive about it. 

“Well, I can tolerate your company, too,” Hongjoong said, staring at his food before he blushed or something equally mortifying. “Just don’t get a big head about it,” he grumbled. 

He could feel Seonghwa smile across the table. 

But Seonghwa said nothing, and when Hongjoong glanced up, he was practically beaming down at his plate of food, looking as if he were trying to stamp down his glee. 

Hongjoong laughed under his breath and took a bite. 

It was… the weirdest dinner Hongjoong had ever been to. But also… the nicest he had been to in a long time. 

And it had nothing to do with the quality of the food. 

~~~~~~~~

Seonghwa not only dropped Hongjoong back off at his dorm, but insisted on walking with him to the door. 

“You know, if you keep being so nice, this might start to look like a date,” Hongjoong warned with a quiet smile as they walked up the stairs. 

“It wasn’t,” Seonghwa assured him good naturedly, chuckling. “I’d hate to be the only one, but… I had a good night, Hongjoong.” 

He glanced over, but Seonghwa was staring at his feet thoughtfully. 

“I…  I liked being able to talk with you… to get to know you better,” Seonghwa admitted. “Sharing time with you… was more fun than I’ve had in a while.” 

“What about with the others?” Hongjoong had to ask, hands shoved in his pockets as they reached his floor and walked down the hall. 

“It’s different,” Seonghwa assured him softly. “I have things that are special to them. But you… are a different breed entirely, Hongjoong, and I mean that as the largest compliment I can give.” 

Hongjoong chuckled under his breath at the choice of wording, but it only made amusement spark in his chest. 

“I had a good time, too,” Hongjoong assured him. “A better time… than I ever thought I was going to have, especially after everything that happened.” He glanced at Seonghwa and smiled genuinely, letting some of that warmth come out. “Thanks for a good time.” 

Seonghwa stared at him for a moment, both of them coming to a halt outside of Hongjoong’s door. Something almost surprised in his eyes as he scanned Hongjoong’s face. 

Something in Seonghwa’s eyes seemed to soften and crack. 

Hongjoong paused, trying to decide whether it would be weird to ask Seonghwa if he wanted to come in. But what could they do? Hongjoong didn’t have the means to entertain people. And they’d spent so long at dinner, it was probably getting late. 

He nodded at Seonghwa. “Well, I should-” 

“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa said quickly when Hongjoong made to gesture at the door, reaching to stop him but never touching him. 

He paused, glancing at Seonghwa curiously as Seonghwa stared, almost looking afraid again- mixed with nervousness and warmth and that light. 

That thing in his eyes cracked further. 

“Hongjoong, I-” 

He stopped again, looking torn, and Hongjoong frowned, wondering if there was something else about his family that was bothering him. He turned himself completely back towards Seonghwa, trying to show on his face that he was listening. 

Seonghwa wet his lips, glancing around before settling back on Hongjoong. “I… I value your friendship… very much,” He said quickly. “I’ve already explained to you what everything you’ve done means to me, but already very quickly, I value you as a friend very dearly.” 

Once again with that poetic language, but Hongjoong didn’t laugh this time. Only nodded, wondering where this was going… 

Why Seonghwa almost acted like he thought Hongjoong might be leaving, despite their whole dinner conversation. 

“I- I treasure you as a friend and as a person,” Seonghwa assured him, like Hongjoong had been questioning it. “And I would never do something you were uncomfortable with, and I would never attempt to take something from you that you didn’t offer freely-” 

“Seonghwa, what are you talking about?” Hongjoong coaxed in confusion, beginning to worry. “I didn’t think you would- what are you talking about?”

“I just only think it’s fair,” Seonghwa said firmly. “That because of your previous reactions that you know.” 

Hongjoong locked eyes with Seonghwa’s nervous ones, having lost almost all the warmth in them to show only an expression that everything might go wrong. 

“That I know what?” he prompted quietly, bracing himself for a hit he didn’t know if or when was coming. 

“I- I don’t want to be living one way while you’re living another,” Seonghwa explained. “And so I think it’s only right that I tell you that… Despite the fact that I am only- and have only- ever operated around you as I would any friend of mine… I do still find you attractive, Hongjoong.” 

Oh. 

Hongjoong stood silently as Seonghwa spit out his confession, waiting for the anger and scowl and probably a demand to never talk to Hongjoong again… 

Hongjoong was waiting for it, too. 

And maybe… maybe if he thought less of Seonghwa… he would feel it. But he stared at Seonghwa- terrified by his own emotions… and Hongjoong knew it wasn’t his fault. 

You couldn’t control who you found attractive, and it wasn’t Seonghwa’s fault that he caught feelings for no reason- Hongjoong had a crush on a guy in 5th grade because he once handed Hongjoong a pencil. 

It wasn’t Seonghwa’s fault. 

And Hongjoong was ashamed at how long it had taken him to realize it. 

“Nothing I’ve done has ever been an attempt to win you over or- or get you to drop your guard,” Seonghwa swore desperately. “The dinner, my actions or words towards you, inviting you to be friends-  none of it was done with the intention of one day convincing you to feel more towards me- I- I need you to believe me when I tell you that, Hongjoong.” 

He looked so scared. 

Scared that Hongjoong wasn’t going to believe him and was going to break off the friendship they had both just confessed meant more than they ever expected. 

But… Hongjoong wasn’t mad. 

In fact… he felt an odd bubble of gratitude. That Seonghwa would take that risk- even if this entire speech was a lie and it had been a ploy to get Hongjoong to date him- he took the risk that Hongjoong would walk away… all for the purpose of wanting to make sure Hongjoong knew that Seonghwa was, in some ways, still attracted to him. 

And Hongjoong appreciated that. That honesty. That risk. 

It was what made him nod. Made him almost-smile comfortingly, but not quite reaching there. 

“Thanks for letting me know,” Hongjoong said, kicking at the ground absently. “I… appreciate it, Seonghwa. Really.” Seonghwa still looked like he wasn’t breathing. “I’m not mad,” he assured him quietly, almost laughing. “I can’t fault you for not being able to control who you find attractive. And I do believe that nothing you’ve done was to lead me on.” 

Seonghwa looked practically faint with relief, pressing a hand to his chest. 

“I’m not weirded out by it,” he assured Seonghwa. “And I really do appreciate you letting me know. Thanks.” 

Seonghwa nodded, looking like he’d just set down a weight. 

“But,” Hongjoong said firmly, holding up a finger in warning, making Seonghwa stiffen. “That means that if you ever do take an action that’s meant romantically… you have to fucking tell me, Seonghwa. Because the lines with you are a little blurry. I need you to let me know when you mean something more- even if think I’m gonna get pissed.” 

Because God knows Hongjoong had the social awareness of a stick- he wasn’t smart enough to be able to just tell. 

Just at Seonghwa’s expression, Hongjoong’s lips quirked slightly in amusement. God, it had been a long time since talking about dating and stuff hadn’t been a weird burden. 

Hell, it had only been a few weeks since talking about dating with Seonghwa had ended in yelling matches. 

But Seonghwa nodded quickly. “Of course. And- And I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t-” 

His voice died out. He wet his lips, still staring at Hongjoong intently, nervous. 

“What?” Hongjoong asked, blinking in concern because Seonghwa just looked distressed again. 

“I-” Seonghwa sighed desperately, rubbing at his face. “Well- I swear, I swear I don’t usually, but- but we were talking about it and now my head is thinking, and I’m sorry- ” 

“What?” Hongjoong prompted, not even caring what he was about to say. 

It… It wasn’t a good feeling in his chest…seeing Seonghwa this upset. 

Especially over something like this. 

He didn’t know if it was because the guy was so open, it hurt to know that something was genuinely upsetting him so badly, or if it was because he just… liked Seonghwa enough. Seonghwa had a magnetic personality- the kind that just drew you in- which Hongjoong knew all about because he met the guy and was pissed off, but he was still here. 

He told Seonghwa to talk to him if things were wrong. 

Seonghwa dropped his hands, looking genuinely distressed. 

“Well, you just said to tell you if I ever meant something romantically, and I swear I don’t do it all the time- but we were talking and I was looking at you, and I really wanted to kiss you for a moment-” 

Even as Hongjoong braced himself, it never quite amounted to the weight of hearing it. 

“- Forget I said it,” Seonghwa immediately raced on. “I’m not going to- I would never, Hongjoong- That’s not- I wouldn’t-” 

“I know,” Hongjoong said, slightly numb to the words, but knowing that he needed to express to Seonghwa in some way that he wasn’t upset. 

Somehow, it was different- hearing that Seonghwa was still into him, and finding out that Seonghwa had the urge to kiss him. 

More than that, his chest constructed as he realized that with each boundary he set, Seonghwa obeyed. 

Waiting for information instead of taking it. 

Telling Hongjoong, even immediately after, that he had a thought that wasn’t platonic. 

Hongjoong genuinely believed with his whole heart that Seonghwa would never try and manipulate Hongjoong. If Seonghwa was capable of that, then he had been doing it from the beginning and Hongjoong was already too deep. 

But he chose to believe he wasn’t. 

And Hongjoong stared at Seonghwa… and tried to place a new light on him. 

“I’m so sorry,” Seonghwa said, looking practically near tears. “I’m really sorry- I’m not trying to- I’m going to go, I’ll-” 

“Wait,” Hongjoong said quietly as Seonghwa went to turn away, making the other freeze and glance back nervously. 

Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa. Really looked at him. 

The very first time he saw Seonghwa… he was too nervous to feel many emotions, but Seonghwa had genuinely complimented Hongjoong’s work, and so he labeled the man as not a bad person. 

But the next time he saw him, the longer the conversation went, the more Hongjoong could only see Seonghwa as one of the Upper Class. Someone who could never have intentions towards Hongjoong other than those used for his own personal gain or amusement. 

Dating Hongjoong could never be serious for Seonghwa because Hongjoong had nothing to give Seonghwa- nothing from his looks to his wealth to his personality. None of it was beneficial, and therefore, Seonghwa could not be serious. 

But then they were friends. And the only reason Hongjoong allowed them to be friends was because he saw how absolutely genuine Seonghwa was. How earnest and open and blatant he was in everything he did. How much he didn’t hide things- even with the things he did hide. 

Hongjoong thought better of Seonghwa than he had anyone in a long time. 

Hell, Seonghwa had treated Hongjoong better as a friend than some of Hongjoong’s ex-boyfriends. 

And he looked at Hongjoong…. 

Looked at him… in a way that Hongjoong had never been looked at before. 

“I…” 

Hongjoong hesitated, his heart practically shriveling in his chest. 

“Seonghwa, I...” he said quietly. “I mean, I was so harsh in rejecting you before because I thought you were an asshole,” he explained. “And I’m sorry that I was-” 

“Hongjoong, stop,” Seonghwa said firmly. “I’m not- I’m not trying to guilt trip you or something-” 

“I don’t think you are,” Hongjoong said assured him. “But- I mean, I don’t know-” 

“Hongjoong-” 

“What I’m saying is,” Hongjoong rushed out, fingers curling, “that I’m giving you a chance. I really don’t know if being in a relationship is right for me-” 

“ Hongjoong- ” 

“You’re nice, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong said without stopping, fearing that he might hesitate if he let himself stop. “You’re really fucking nice- You’re probably the best person I’ve met in years, and I- I’m… I don’t know,” he admitted. “But… what I’m saying is that… dating you isn’t… as impossible as I first said, okay?” 

Seonghwa stared at Hongjoong sadly. 

“I’m not- I meant what I said before,” Hongjoong said firmly. “But I’ve gotten to know you, and maybe I still don’t want a relationship, but I just… I don’t know, Seonghwa.” 

Hongjoong wasn’t even sure he knew what he was trying to say. 

He still wasn’t sure he wanted to date Seonghwa, but the longer he looked at Seonghwa the more he remembered all the things he had said before. The excuses that he had given to keep Seonghwa away… ones that weren’t even that true. 

If Hongjoong had time for friends, wouldn’t he have time for a boyfriend?

Did he even want Seonghwa as a boyfriend? 

Hongjoong had gotten into casual relationships before- it wasn’t the end of the world. 

Seonghwa still stared at him quietly, looking torn between warmth and sadness. “Hongjoong,” He said quietly. “No. I… I’m not going to let you do something you were so against before. I’m not going to guilt trip you-” 

“I wouldn’t do that to you or me,” Hongjoong said sharply, firm in that aspect. “All I’m saying is that-” 

“What are you saying, Hongjoong?” Seonghwa broke in, swallowing. “I… If you’re going to say something- tell me exactly what it is you want. Because now you’ve confused me, and I don’t… I don’t know what you want…” he trailed off, like there was nothing worse than not knowing what Hongjoong wanted. 

Well, Hongjoong didn’t know what he wanted either. 

“I don’t want to do something wrong,” Seonghwa said weakly, eyes misty. “I don’t want to hurt you- That is the absolute last thing I ever want to do, Hongjoong-“ 

“I want a test,” Hongjoong finally managed. “No strings attached, no commitment. Just… a test.” 

Seonghwa pressed his lips together firmly, looking nervous again. “What kind of test? A kiss? Or holding hands? Or meeting the parents?”

Hongjoong managed a weak laugh and felt relieved when Seonghwa also seemed to lose part of his heaviness at the sound. 

“Sure,” he said, shrugging helplessly, feeling a little light headed off of adrenaline and how fucking spantaneous he was being. “A kiss sounds good.” 

Hongjoong watched Seonghwa’s jaw flex uncertainly. 

“Does…” Hongjoong winced, the balloon in his chest deflating. “Is it asshole-ish to ask for this? I mean- you like me, and I don’t want to think I’m playing with that-” 

Seonghwa smiled quietly, the warmth reaching his eyes. “I’m not made of glass, Hongjoong,” he chuckled. “I won’t shatter just because you’re a little mean.” 

“No, you like it when I’m mean,” Hongjoong muttered under his breath to conceal how his heart had picked up. 

Seonghwa laughed quietly, nodding. “I like when you treat me normally.” 

“Well, then, I’ll give a normal kiss,” Hongjoong promised. “And if you try and use tongue, I’ll kick your dick like I did any guy who tried it on the first time.” 

Seonghwa looked torn between bursting into laughter and being horrified. “No tongue,” he said breathlessly. “Got it.” 

Hongjoong couldn’t believe he was doing this. But Seonghwa stood still, clearly waiting for him to make the first move. 

Hongjoong took a bold step forward, trying not to let on how weak his knees felt. 

Somehow, it had nothing to do with how attractive Seonghwa was up close. Nothing to do with how his eyes shone in the hall lights or how he wet his lips nervously, tongue darting out quickly. 

It felt like hovering your hand above a light. Something a little too bright and warm to be comfortable, but not… unpleasant. 

“Why are you changing your mind?” Seonghwa asked quietly, the distance between them suddenly much smaller as he took his own step forward. 

“You were an asshole before,” Hongjoong said with his dry mouth. “You’re not anymore.” 

“Was that all it took?” Seonghwa chuckled as Hongjoong took the final step that put them close enough together. “Not being an asshole?” 

Hongjoong wanted to laugh, but all he could do was answer honestly. “Yeah. I don’t have super high standards.” 

Seonghwa laughed quietly, and Hongjoong got a much clearer view to how his teeth flashed with the smile and how his eyes scrunched shut gently. 

“And it has nothing to do with suddenly learning my family is one of the most powerful in the country?” Seonghwa asked coyly, clearly joking as one of his hands began to drift towards Hongjoong. 

Hongjoong didn’t pull away when Seonghwa’s hand wrapped around his elbow gently. 

Really… really fucking gently. 

Almost more of a caress than a hold. His heart skipped a little, and Hongjoong held his breath to make it slow down. 

“Honestly, I’d probably pick you quicker if you didn’t have all the wealth and power,” Hongjoong murmured quietly. 

Seonghwa cocked a perfect eyebrow, kind eyes sparkling with confusion and nerves. “Why?”

“Same reasons as before,” Hongjoong confessed. Seonghwa’s expression flashed into something understanding. “And…” He forced himself to look Seonghwa directly in the eyes. “And… I feel bad for you,” he admitted. “The things that you went through… because of that power and wealth.” 

The grip on his elbow twitched, making Hongjoong glance down, but his hold remained as gentle as ever. 

When Hongjoong lifted his eyes back to Seonghwa… there were tears on his cheeks. 

Hongjoong’s heart stopped in his chest as he stared in shock. 

Seonghwa made no move to wipe them away. He merely stared at Hongjoong, and he could not for the life of him tell whether they were tears of heartbreak or joy- the emotions in Seonghwa’s eyes mingling too deeply. 

“Why-” 

Hongjoong instinctively tried to step forward, but there was no more room- his chest just bumping into Seonghwa’s slightly as Seonghwa shook his head slowly. 

“Sorry,” he whispered quietly, smiling through the tears clinging to his lashes. He swallowed, his eyes like crystals. “Can I kiss you, Hongjoong?” he rasped weakly. 

It was such an expected question, but it still made Hongjoong feel like his lungs were suddenly gone, making him nearly panic. 

Hongjoong hadn’t really had… big relationships. 

He’d had crushes and casual relationships (and some one-sidedly not-so casual ones), but none of them… none of them were very deep. He liked the guys, he enjoyed spending time with them, but most of the time they broke up because of a mutual understanding that something wasn’t working. 

Hongjoong always figured he would just find some guy who was nice enough that they could be compatible, and someone who wasn’t an asshole, and someone who supported Hongjoong’s art, and someone his mom liked, and someone who wasn’t a deadbeat. 

Hongjoong never claimed to have high standards. Or, rather… he’d always had very realistic standards.

 He had never, in his life, ever expected to find those fantasy boyfriends who put you first and were ecstatic when you came home and got happy just by seeing you and… and who looked at you, even when you were being a little bitchy… and still smiled at you. 

He never expected a boyfriend who would put in every ounce of effort he could to make Hongjoong happy and comfortable, one who… who got emotional over Hongjoong just for being himself. 

Someone who thought that just Hongjoong being himself- anger and sarcasm and all… was good enough. Someone who just thought Hongjoong… was more than enough. 

But he was staring at Seonghwa… someone who was kind and genuine… who saw Hongjoong from a distance and decided he was a good person. Who respected his every wish, who befriended him and was practically perfect. 

Someone who had been hurt. Whose heart was happy when Hongjoong spoke to him like a regular human being, not just an ambassador's son. 

Who cried… when someone expressed the barest sympathy and empathy. 

Someone like that… somehow looked at Hongjoong and had labeled him the best of his endless options. 

Hongjoong had already come to the conclusion that wealth did not equal a better life. Yeosang, Wooyoung, Seonghwa- they had all proven that. 

And Hongjoong remembered both of them confessing that maybe they… were a little more lonely than they had realized. 

“Yeah,” Hongjoong somehow managed without breathing. “Sure…” 

He was staring at Seonghwa’s eyes. Seonghwa’s lips twitched at the rather pathetic permission. 

Hongjoong had partaken in several heated (and maybe a little more than heated) make out sessions. He had gone a little bit further than that a couple of times, but the majority of his kissing experience was nothing more than absent pecks and kisses. 

Most of the time spent at their houses was playing video games and snacking. Kisses weren’t actually all that common to go beyond something quick or chaste. Usually, they were casual and a little careless. 

So Hongjoong’s throat completely closed up when Seonghwa’s gentle hand on his arm pulled him closer so carefully, Hongjoong hadn’t even realized they had gotten closer until Seonghwa’s lips pressed slowly against his. 

Whether it was a genuine fear that Hongjoong would lash out if Seonghwa wasn’t careful or if it was just how Seonghwa kissed… it was not like any sort of kiss Hongjoong had gotten before. 

His other boyfriends weren’t… they weren’t embarrassed. But they had been in middle school and high school. It was a casual relationship, and it was weird if you tried to be too romantic. They would cringe at the slow and deep kisses some of the other people exchanged. 

It was just a kiss- they didn’t have to take it so seriously. They were just two guys kissing- why were they making such a big deal of it? 

Hongjoong had never… never been kissed delicately. Never kissed carefully. 

He was practically frozen in Seonghwa’s arms as his other hand came and rested, warm and gentle against Hongjoong’s hip. 

His lips were soft (most of the time Hongjoong’s were way too chapped to be comfortable), and they were warm and they… 

Hongjoong felt something rising in his throat. 

Something that felt dangerously close to tears, and it was only a fear of the kiss stopping that kept him from shoving Seonghwa away. 

His eyes were closed. Seonghwa’s thumb brushed over the curve of Hongjoong’s elbow, like a little breath of wind, just dragging and then disappearing- 

Seonghwa’s cheeks were slightly damp- Hongjoong could feel it. 

Seonghwa paused his gentle movement, simply resting his lips against Hongjoong’s- as if he thought he should pull away, but couldn’t bring himself to. 

Why did Hongjoong feel like crying… 

He swallowed thickly, too scared to move- to either break something between them or break the dam behind his eyes. 

Slowly… Seonghwa began to kiss him again, even slower, barely moving, clearly waiting to see if Hongjoong would reject it. 

Hongjoong couldn’t open his eyes. 

When there was no attack, Seonghwa continued- warm lips covering Hongjoong’s so very carefully- 

Seonghwa kissed like he spoke. Genuine and open and warm and… earnest. Wholly focused and attentive on whomever he was giving attention to. As if there was… as if there was no one else in the world but Hongjoong, in this moment. 

No one… No one had ever… made Hongjoong feel like that. 

As if… there was nothing casual about this. As if it wasn’t just a passing thing- a way to release your teenage energy. As if it was something… something… 

Seonghwa wanted this.

 He wanted this with Hongjoong- and somehow, he’d wanted it from the beginning. 

Hongjoong had had boyfriends who kissed and liked him… 

Hongjoong had never… never quite known what it was like… to honestly think that someone loved him. 

He’d always thought that it wasn’t that serious. 

Seonghwa acted as if it were exactly that serious. As if kissing Hongjoong were a carefully protected privilege. As if kissing him were… were something special. 

Seonghwa did not kiss him carelessly, nor casually. 

Hongjoong had never lost his breath while kissing this tamely. But ever since Seonghwa’s lips pressed to his, he couldn’t seem to take a breath. 

His hand jerked forward, pressing against Seonghwa’s chest, fingers curling in the fabric as he was made aware of the difference in their height- tilting his head back slightly as the movement brought him closer. 

Seonghwa… was someone special. 

Whether that was romantically or not… Hongjoong could not deny that Seonghwa made him feel like no other person ever had. 

It felt like hours before Seonghwa’s lips parted from his- like tearing off a seal that suddenly allowed Hongjoong’s lungs to start heaving in the air they’d been denied. 

Hongjoong could feel how flushed his skin was, and he was suddenly highly aware of how hard his heart was beating, his fingers shaking slightly where they were curled in Seonghwa’s shirt. 

Seonghwa’s face was still close to his. 

He looked, once again, torn between laughter and tears as he stared at Hongjoong. 

The sort of way you might look at something you knew you were about to let go of. 

Seonghwa’s hand fell away from his hip, suddenly making the night seem a lot colder. 

Hongjoong swallowed thickly, quickly bringing his hand to his own chest, releasing Seonghwa. 

“Was that… a good test?” Seonghwa asked, voice thick as he released Hongjoong’s elbow slowly. 

Hongjoong couldn’t have spoken if he wanted to, his throat closed up and his tongue numb in his mouth as he could only stare at Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa smiled when he didn’t answer, that light shining in his eyes. 

That light… that acted as if Hongjoong was doing something amazing, just by standing there. It suddenly made Hongjoong’s stomach flip. 

“Seonghwa-” 

“I don’t…” Seonghwa broke in, but cut himself off, glancing away, looking hesitant. “I’ll see you later, Hongjoong,” he said quickly, taking a step back. 

Hongjoong heard it for what it meant: Don’t give me an answer yet. 

Honestly, Hongjoong couldn’t tell you what his answer would be. What answer was he supposed to be giving? 

Seonghwa had turned away, rushing back to the stairs without glancing back, his fists clenched at his sides- 

“Seonghwa.” 

He froze, whipping back around, despite not wanting Hongjoong to say anything. 

Hongjoong stared at him, his heart still choking at the base of his throat. “Drive safe,” he said hoarsely. 

Seonghwa stared for a moment before smiling quietly. From here, it looked like more tears fell, but Hongjoong couldn’t be sure. 

He left without saying anything in response. 

Hongjoong stood there for far too long, trying to breathe evenly as he stared at the spot Seonghwa had stood in. 

He pressed a slow hand against his heart, torn between cursing it and ripping it out. 

Hongjoong was not moved by pity or anything of the sort. That wasn’t why he gave Seonghwa a chance. 

He saw Seonghwa for what he truly was: someone kind and generous enough to put Hongjoong’s comfort above his own. 

Hongjoong was sure it would simply prove that there was still something that wouldn’t work between them. 

But all the kiss had done was somehow inject Hongjoong more directly with all the significant looks, touches, courtesies, warmth, gratitude- 

Everything Seonghwa had ever looked at him with… everything Seonghwa had ever felt… now racing through Hongjoong’s bloodstream. 

No one…. No one had ever… ever made Hongjoong feel treasured. Like he hadn’t wanted anything but to hold Hongjoong. 

Special. For being nothing but himself. 

He choked on a breath as his eyes burned with tears. 

It was… a really good feeling. 

And that terrified him as much as it comforted him. 

Chapter Text

Hongjoong was walking to class when a hand grabbed him, whipping him around quickly. 

He went, eyes widening, and then darkening when he realized it was some random girl. 

“What the hell!” he snapped as she ripped him around. 

A phone was suddenly shoved in his face. 

“What the fucking hell is this, scholarship?” she snarled. 

Hongjoong pushed her away, but caught a glance of her phone screen that was opened to some gossip website that Hongjoong always saw in meme screenshots. 

What he saw this time, though, was a photo of him and Seonghwa seated at a restaurant, both of them smiling at each other, leaning in while they spoke. 

It was slightly grainy, taken from a phone, most likely, but Hongjoong’s stomach dropped. 

“How the fuck did you end up eating with Park Seonghwa?” she hissed. “What the hell- Who the hell do you think you are?” 

Hongjoong was still reeling from the photo, but he jerked away from her when she tried to step up to him again, glaring. 

“I don’t think that’s any of your fucking business,” he snapped, turning on his heel and rushing off, feeling her glare on his back, wondering if she was going to chase him down. 

Hongjoong almost wondered who the hell had gotten that sort of photo from last night- 

But then again, Seonghwa was apparently a public figure among the students, and maybe even the business leaders who knew his father (which was probably a lot). Anyone could have seen him out to dinner, alone with someone else, and made their own assumptions. 

Hongjoong could feel it. 

The people staring at him. He kept his head down, hurrying through the halls faster- 

“Hey, scholarship!” a boy yelled, but Hongjoong didn’t stop. “Hey!”

He pushed forward faster, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do- 

An arm was suddenly wrapping around his shoulders, dragging down a different hall that he hadn’t ever gone down, since he had no classes down it. He was dragged into a little alcove holding a bench.  

He shoved the person away, but his wrist was caught firmly as Hongjoong whipped his head over to bite- 

He froze. “San,” he said, eyes widening.

The other smiled at him painfully, glancing at the hall warily. “Hey,” he said quietly. “We saw the gossip this morning.” 

Hongjoong blew out a harsh breath. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded. “It wasn’t a fucking date or anything-” 

“Seonghwa’s father has already played damage control,” San assured him, expression somber. “The news wasn’t even up for half an hour before they got it taken down. People always have proof, though.” 

“Great,” Hongjoong huffed, running a rough hand through his hair. “Fucking- Great,” he hissed harder, anger welling. “I go on one fucking outing with a friend, and this-” 

“We’re taking care of it,” San promised him firmly. “No one can physically touch you, but we’re going to keep the majority of them off your back, don’t worry.” 

Hongjoong lowered his hand slowly, staring at San. “What happened to not being able to anger the people your parents work with?” he asked slowly. 

San made a vague gesture with his hands. “Things changed,” he said apologetically. “This isn’t just seeing you at a distance or befriending you vaguely.” He stared at Hongjoong sternly. “You’re one of us now, Hongjoong. We’ve got your back. We should have from the beginning… but we’ve got your back now.” 

Hongjoong didn’t know why it was suddenly okay for them to do so, but he nodded slowly. 

San grinned, clicking his tongue. “Now, let’s go.” 

San walked shoulder to shoulder with Hongjoong as they went back into the hall. Hongjoong felt more people staring. Not only because of his stunt with Seonghwa, but now he was walking with San who stared down anyone who tried to approach them. 

“San, what the hell-” 

People stared at San almost in betrayal as he led Hongjoong down the hall. 

Because as far as anyone knew, the Popluars had never so much as looked at Hongjoong. How would people feel to know Hongjoong had been having lunch with them for weeks? 

Hongjoong felt vague guilt in his stomach. “What about your parents’ companies?” he murmured. 

“It’s one thing to attack you because you’re a scholarship student,” San explained quietly. “It’s another to attack you because you were seen with someone like Seonghwa. Companies have alliances, and they can’t break that just because some kid was seen with the ambassador’s son. Actually, most of them will probably tell their kids to knock it off before they create issues with the ambassador.” 

Huh. 

Hongjoong’s stomach twisted at the thought of someone having seen him and Seonghwa outside his dorm. 

“Here,” San said as they reached the classroom. “Don’t worry, Yeosang will look after you.” 

He offered Hongjoong a brief smile before rushing off to his own class once Hongjoong stepped inside. 

He moved quickly, not even bothering to look at the murderous glares on the side of his head. 

“Hongjoong.” 

He glanced up at Yeosang, smiling stiffly as he sat down. Yeosang stared at him quietly. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “This is probably the last thing you wanted.” 

Hongjoong could feel the people around him rippling like a dark wave, noticing that Yeosang was speaking to him. “I suppose it’s a hazard of being your friend, isn’t it?” he chuckled. 

These people wanted him afraid. They wanted him to cower and back down. 

He would not perform for them. 

Yeosang winced. “Seonghwa’s family is playing damage control. You’re not in any trouble. It’s just the people who are overly attached.” 

Hongjoong risked a casual glance over his shoulder and saw every person in class staring at him murderously. “I don’t think they’re just the people attached to Seonghwa who are pissed,” he said lightly, even as he wondered if rich people carried weapons on them. 

Yeosang suddenly reached out, his hand landing on Hongjoong’s shoulder and squeezing comfortingly. 

Hongjoong looked at him quickly, startled by the sudden contact, but Yeosang smiled- muted, but still wider than he’d ever seen while in class. “What are you-” 

“Marking our territory,” Yeosang said simply, eyes sparking a bit with amusement. “You’re our friend now, Hongjoong. Which means the rest of this school can suck it.” 

Hongjoong couldn’t help the way he snorted at the brash language. “What about…” He knew San had already answered but… “What about pissing off the wrong people?” Hongjoong asked. “That’s a lot of angry people behind me, and they’re not gonna be happy about the bromantic display,” he said, gesturing to Yeosang’s hand that withdrew. 

Yeosang shrugged. “They can’t ruin our business relationships because they’re salty someone made a friend.” His lips quirked once more. “But we can ruin theirs for attacking a personal friend for unfounded reasons.” 

Hongjoong stared, slightly scared by such a dark statement that made Yeosang laugh. “Did I just… simultaneously become the most hated and protected person in the school?” Hongjoong asked, feeling a little breathless. 

Yeosang chuckled quietly, and Hongjoong heard a pencil snap in half behind him. “Guess so. Not what you wanted when you agreed to sit with us, was it?” 

“Yeosang is talking,” someone hissed. 

“To fucking Scholarship ?” 

“Not really, no,” Hongjoong said, bemused as he opened his notebook, ignoring the whispers. 

“Don’t worry,” Yeosang comforted. “By the end of the week, Seonghwa’s father will have gotten everything calmed down. They won’t like you any more than they do now, but they’ll stop being so open about it.” 

“Yeosang never talks,” someone whispered. 

“What the hell are they saying?” 

“I don’t know- I can’t hear-“

Hongjoong hummed, oddly unbothered by the actual anger. He was just pissed that something between him and Seonghwa would cause such a hateful outbreak. He was pissed that a personal moment wound up on the front screen of a gossip website. 

Hongjoong’s blood froze in his veins. 

Holy shit, what would these people do if they found out him and Seonghwa had fucking kissed?

The thought of it brought back the wave of panic that had kept Hongjoong awake most of the night. Not panic or regret at what he’d done, but… 

Listen. 

Upon further reflection and evaluations on Seonghwa, Hongjoong thought he was a really fucking good person who… who cared for Hongjoong a startling amount… 

Who really cared for Hongjoong. Beyond just physical attraction. In fact, physical attraction seemed pretty fucking far down the list. 

And now Hongjoong was conflicted because he was pretty sure having Seonghwa as a boyfriend would probably be the best and worst decision of his life. 

Because on one hand: before the kiss had ever happened, Seonghwa had a way of making Hongjoong feel like he mattered. Like he was important- not to the world, but to Seonghwa. 

Hongjoong had enough self-confidence to know his place in the world and what he wanted to make of it. He knew his own importance. 

But it was a different matter completely to be important to someone. And Seonghwa made him feel like warm tea was sitting in his stomach. 

Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong like Hongjoong was the sun peaking out after days of rain. 

But on the other hand: it was very clear (even more so now) that dating Seonghwa came with a lot of baggage and caveats. 

He was of a different class, he had different responsibilities, apparently people would riot if that were to happen, he would probably have very little time for Hongjoong. 

Hell, maybe he would have to break it off after college because he’d be going off to real work for his father. 

Seonghwa wasn’t the asshole manipulator that Hongjoong had originally assumed him to be. But he was still someone who came with emotional and physical baggage that Hongjoong would not be able to escape. 

Oh- who the hell was he kidding. 

Hongjoong was already exposed to most of (if not all of) Seonghwa’s baggage. He knew that he craved human contact in its purest form, he wanted to be treated like a human not a doll, he wanted someone to look at him and see Seonghwa- not the ambassador’s son. 

Maybe there was more than that. There probably was. 

But Hongjoong was already carrying his own baggage and worries. It wasn’t really fair to use those as a strike against Seonghwa when really they were nothing more than part of what made him who he was. 

When Hongjoong rose to leave English, Yeosang stood with him, surprising Hongjoong as he walked beside him. 

Hongjoong watched the class stare as they stood from where they would usually swarm Yeosang. 

“Yeosangie,” a girl called, looking hurt. 

Yeosang spared them a simple glance before walking out of the classroom with Hongjoong. He walked him to his Art App class- very clearly standing in the doorway- letting people see him interacting with Hongjoong before waving goodbye. 

Hongjoong entire day turned into a series of power moves from his little circle of friends. 

He made it to Sketching with only a few demands of who the hell he thought he was, and as he sat, he felt the people beginning to prowl closer- very clearly hearing a few snide comments. 

“-with Yeosang,” a girl hissed. “And San! I can’t believe this- How the hell did people as wonderful as them get caught up with Scholarship ?” 

“Maybe he owes them money,” a boy snickered behind his hands. 

“As if he could afford to buy anything in the first place,” she huffed haughtily. 

“Who knows- maybe he’s paying with something else.” 

“Ew- Absolutely not!” a girl gagged. “Seonghwa would never lower himself like that. Even a debtor has to have standards he collects by.” 

“Like Yeosang or San would!” one guy defended. “God, seeing them together just pisses me off.” 

A girl snorted into her hands. “Guys, imagine if Scholarship got in by, like, sucking off the principle or something.” 

There was a chorus of gasps, gags, and oohs as they all shoved each other around. 

Hongjoong stared at his paper and did not move. 

There was no anger in his chest. No fury or indignation or emotion that made him want to shove himself to his feet and demand what their problem was. 

He simply stared, expression hardened, but feeling oddly numb. 

Was this always what they thought? Or was it just now entering their minds? That the only reason Hongjoong could ever be worth anything was by- 

The chair beside him pulled out and someone sat down. Hongjoong sent a silent prayer as he glanced over. 

Yunho spared him an apologetic smile as he set his bag down. 

The people of the room erupted into gasps and hisses of gossip. 

“Even Yunho ?” a girl gasped, covering her mouth in shock. 

Hongjoong stared at Yunho for a moment before smiling quietly. 

It felt good… having someone at his back. Not being alone. It wasn’t like he expected the others to abandon him, but he was shocked at how fervently they were willing to stand beside him, despite how little time they’d known each other. 

“Yunho, what the hell, man?” one boy snapped across the classroom. “Seriously? With the fucking Scholarship? ” 

“Mr. Gong,” Professor Yang said sharply as she entered the classroom with cold eyes. “If you do not sit down and stop yelling across the classroom, I will have you removed.” 

Mr. Gong glared at Hongjoong, but Yunho stared at him fearlessly- unapologetic in his decision. 

“Will there be any more interruptions?” Professor Yang asked, sitting her books down heavily on her desk with a sharp glare around the classroom. 

No one moved, either silently glaring or lowering their eyes to their desks. 

“Then we’ll begin work on our projects for color. Take out your pencils and I will provide the paper.” 

Everyone got to work, Yunho and Hongjoong exchanging a quick glance. Hongjoong’s lips quirked up gratefully. 

“Seonghwa told us about… what happened when he dropped you off,” Yunho murmured, so quiet even Hongjoong barely heard him. 

But his stomach dropped all the same- both in fear at them knowing and in a terrified reminder of what he and Seonghwa had done. 

Yunho looked at him heavily, eyes empathetic. “We’ve got your back,” he promised. “For whatever you need… or whatever you decide.” 

And Hongjoong… Hongjoong believed him. 

“Let’s get to work gentlemen,” Professor Yang said as she passed them, but when Hongjoong glanced at her, she seemed almost pleased. “I’ll allow the change in seats, but don’t allow it to create distractions, understand?” she said quietly. 

Yunho smiled as Hongjoong grimaced. “Yes, Ma’am.” 

Professor Yang casted a quick glance over Hongjoong, winking conspiratorially before moving on. 

Hongjoong released a quiet breath as he pulled out his colored pencils, staring at the blank paper. 

“Can I borrow your blue?” Yunho whispered. 

Hongjoong turned to him with a blatantly exasperated stare. Yunho flushed, grinning in embarrassment. “I sat on mine!” he hissed, looking at him pleadingly. 

Hongjoong was so exasperated and busy shaking his head as he passed over the blue… he forgot about needing to go to lunch. 

~~~~~~~~

What the fuck was he supposed to do?

“I’m gonna go eat in the courtyard,” Yunho told him, smiling encouragingly. 

Hongjoong’s panic must have shown because Yunho smiled quietly- rare, given his nature to be so bright and loud. 

“I’ve known Seonghwa for a long time,” Yunho said comfortingly. “And you’re never going to find someone kinder. You don’t have to worry about anything. Just… be honest with him, okay? He deserves the truth from you- no matter what it ends up being.” 

“I wouldn’t lie to him,” Hongjoong said quickly, staring down the hall at Sunglasses standing outside the door. 

Yunho’s smile was brighter. Deeper. “I know,” he said, before turning and walking away, leaving Hongjoong to walk quickly down the hall before he could lose his nerve. 

He’d just walk up and give Seonghwa his answer after their little test. 

It took up to the moment he opened the door and stepped inside for Hongjoong to realize that he did not, in fact, have an answer. 

What the hell was his answer? Everytime he thought about the kiss, his mind just went into blank static- 

There was no one but Seonghwa inside the room, sitting at a desk by himself and turning to see who’d entered. 

Hongjoong didn’t have a fucking answer. 

Was he okay with dating Seonghwa? Probably! But he didn’t fucking know- There had been one kiss that had made Hongjoong want to fucking cry, but what if… what if… 

Hongjoong was scared. 

Because it almost felt like giving in. Like he had stood his ground so firmly, and then at the slightest affection from Seonghwa, he was giving in and going with it. 

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t anything like that- Seonghwa was nice. He was caring and kind- and he was all those things before attraction was ever a part of this. 

But Hongjoong didn’t know if it was possible to casually date Seonghwa. It felt like a situation that was going to require him to dive head first into something he may not be ready for. What if he messed up? 

What if Seonghwa changed his mind? What if Hongjoong let himself fall deeper, but then Seonghwa pulled back? 

What if it hurt-

“I’m sorry.” 

Hongjoong’s panic faded enough that he could focus on Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa, who looked torn and tired and desperate. 

“I’m so sorry, Hongjoong,” He said quickly, standing. “I- I didn’t think- The restaurant was cleared of reporters and newspeople like always- Normal people usually don’t bother us, but I should have known- ” He sighed, running a hand through his hair roughly. “I should have known that appearing with someone new would have caught at least someone’s attention-” 

Seonghwa looked frustrated with himself. 

Hongjoong’s panic was still trying to drown out his apologies, but he kept it at bay. 

“- I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he said earnestly, begging Hongjoong to understand. “I- I didn’t want to drag you in, and now everything’s a mess that’s going to take weeks to die down, all because I had to try and be chilvarous and stupid- ”

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong broke in firmly, though his own voice echoed oddly in his head. 

Seonghwa looked over quickly, eyes open and glassy. 

“It’s fine,” he said sternly. “It’s not like people could hate me more than they already could. And honestly? It’s the funniest fucking thing for me to watch all these people try and hide their envy behind anger. But I fucking know that they’re just bitter that you see through their nice act and know not to give them the time of day.” 

Seonghwa swallowed thickly. 

It still didn’t feel good… seeing Seonghwa so upset. 

“Yeah, it sucks,” Hongjoong said, shrugging. “But it’s not gonna kill me, Seonghwa. It seriously is almost funny. I was caught off guard because I wasn’t expecting it, but now everyone else has basically closed ranks around me- no one’s going to even get near me.” 

Seonghwa looked like he was still waiting for the other shoe. The statement that despite all this, Hongjoong was pissed that his life had been ruined and was leaving. 

Seonghwa kept looking like he was waiting for Hongjoong to leave. 

Hongjoong’s heart clenched- rapid and sharp as he winced. 

Seonghwa wet his lips nervously. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “It- It wasn’t supposed to happen. And neither was- was the thing in front of your door-” 

“You mean the kiss?” Hongjoong asked, surprising himself with his bluntness. 

He didn’t expect Seonghwa to flush so deeply at it. 

Nor for Seonghwa to look so regretful. As if he had burdened Hongjoong in the worst way possible. 

And Hongjoong… simultaneously felt something inside of him soften and solidify at the same time. 

He stared at Seonghwa… who looked nervous- not for overstepping, not for thinking he had done the wrong thing-  

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong said quietly. 

-Because Hongjoong knew that face. The one that was staring at him… He just never expected someone like Seonghwa to have it. 

“Seonghwa,” he repeated when Seonghwa averted his eyes, almost like bracing himself. “Look at me.” 

It took a moment, but Hongjoong didn’t move until Seonghwa glanced up. 

“Do you see me walking away?” he asked, opening his arms and showing his feet planted firmly on the ground. 

Seonghwa’s fear dimmed slightly with confusion. 

“Do you hear me yelling?” he questioned gently. “Does it look like I’m leaving?” 

Seonghwa swallowing- expression stiff, but eyes showing a barely-visible light that almost looked like hope. 

Hongjoong lowered his hands. “I’m not leaving, Seonghwa,” he said firmly. “Believe me, I will let you know the moment you make a mistake big enough for me to walk away- and believe me again- it would take a pretty fucked up event for that to happen.” 

Seonghwa continued to hold still. Like a child still waiting for the argument to stop so they knew when it was safe to speak. 

“You know why?” Hongjoong demanded, taking a step forward. “Because you’re a good fucking person, Seonghwa. I didn’t know it before- when I yelled and cursed at you like that. But you’re a good fucking person, and now that I know it, it’s going to take a major fuck up for me not to forgive you. Because any mistake you make is just that: a mistake.” 

Seonghwa’s fists clenched at his side as he swallowed thickly, jaw clenched as if waiting for a blow. 

“You didn’t tell that person to take the photo,” Hongjoong pressed. “You did everything you could to make my life as easy as possible- and that’s what you’ve been doing.” 

Hongjoong would never think that someone like Seonghwa- someone handsome, smart, popular, rich- would have something like low self-esteem. 

Well. 

Maybe not low self-esteem. Hongjoong didn’t think it was quite that. Almost something more like an innate social fear. As if he was staring at Hongjoong and waiting for the moment he walked away. 

As if staring at the one person who didn’t treat him differently… and was waiting for him to break that. 

Seonghwa seemed scared of the moment Hongjoong decided he was bored. That he didn’t want to play the game anymore. 

The exact same thing Hongjoong was hesitant about for Seonghwa. The same exact feeling that kept him hesitating. 

Seeing it in someone like Seonghwa… it wasn’t a good feeling. 

“I know I was an asshole,” Hongjoong excused. “I was defensive, but that stopped when I became your friend. You’re stuck with me now, Seonghwa. Whether it’s a friend or a boyfriend or whatever- I made my choice.” 

Seonghwa’s eyes widened, mouth falling open. “W-What do you mean ‘boyfriend’?” he demanded weakly. 

Maybe it was because Seonghwa seemed so emotionally fragile at the moment. 

Maybe it was the realization that their fears were the same. 

Maybe it was the fact that Hongjoong just… felt good about it. Now that he was facing Seonghwa… looking at him, hearing him, realizing just how… how much Seonghwa cared- outside of and excluding Hongjoong as a romantic figure. 

“You’re not an asshole, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong said, his voice shockingly confident. “You’re nice. And you…” 

Hongjoong’s blood ran a little warmer at the thought of how Seonghwa had held him during their brief (maybe not so brief) kiss. 

A flash of goosebumps ran over his arms as he swallowed. 

“You care about people,” He said assuredly. “You care to look at who people really are. And I didn’t realize that before. But you’re… you’re more down to earth than I realized. And you’re more sensitive than I gave you credit for.” 

Seonghwa was like a child. 

He knew nothing about Hongjoong’s world, and would likely hurt Hongjoong inadvertently because of that ignorance. 

But he was like a child. 

He was so willing and ready to learn. To learn about Hongjoong and who he was and where he came from and all the things that would make him comfortable and make him smile- 

Hongjoong couldn’t come up with a reason to reject something like that. 

No. 

Hongjoong didn’t want to reject that. 

Because despite how uncertain he was about grades and money and his future… Fuck it- maybe he wanted to reckless and be happy for once. Really happy- not just satisfied at life not being necessarily shitty. 

He smacked away the part of him that felt guilt at wanting to be flippant with his life. But “flippant” to someone like Hongjoong was still “perfect model of society” to anyone else. 

So he looked at Seonghwa… who- within seconds- had made Hongjoong feel like the center of a fucking universe… and he let himself say fuck it for once. 

You reach that point…. and you just say fuck it. 

“I’m willing to take a risk, Seonghwa,” he said quietly. “And it’s not because you’re rich or handsome or have anything to do with your family-”

(Honestly, Hongjoong didn’t even know what sort of advantages came with being an ambassador’s son.)

“-but because…” He blew out a small breath, watching Seonghwa’s expression slowly climb up from the dark nerves it had held before. “Because… you make me genuinely believe… that you give a shit about-” 

No. No, that was too casual. Seonghwa’s actions matched his speech pattern- poetic, careful, delicate, and completely unique to him. 

“You make me feel like you care about me,” Hongjoong said in a rush, finally having to drop his eyes before he made eye contact with Seonghwa. “Like… as a person. Not as a boyfriend or as someone you’re going to fuck around it- You got me to trust you, Seonghwa. And that’s why I’m saying this.” 

He kicked at the ground, his sneaker squeaking against the tile. 

“I’m willing… to give things a try with you, Seonghwa,” he admitted. “I’m scared, I’m unsure- I’m absolutely sure that we’re going to have to have a talk later on about what we’re expecting out of this, but…” He took a break, lifting his eyes. “You convinced me it was worth it.” 

Seonghwa had left all remnants of fear and nervousness behind, showing only shock as he stared at Hongjoong, like rapidly deciphering whatever language he was speaking. 

“You- You want-” 

Seonghwa’s eyes searched Hongjoong’s face frantically, as if looking for anger or a lie. 

“I didn’t do that to make you change your mind-” he began quickly. 

“I know,” Hongjoong said, and upon seeing the genuine concern shining in Seonghwa’s eyes, his chest caught slightly. “Seonghwa, I know, ” he assured him, more firm and fervent. “Nothing you did was ever going to make me want to go out with you if I didn’t want to- do you believe me about that?”

Seonghwa was silent for a moment, genuinely considering it, before he nodded slowly. 

“Then trust me when I say that it wasn’t because I thought the kiss was hot,” Hongjoong said, nearly laughing. “Or that you said or did something that I was manipulated into thinking was attractive-” 

Seonghwa managed a weak laugh that died quickly. 

“Trust me, Seonghwa, I wouldn’t do this just because you kissed me.” He gestured to himself. “If I thought you had been trying to manipulate me, you would have had 90 pounds of rage coming at you- do you see me attacking you?”

Seonghwa laughed again, shaking his head slowly. 

“Well, then?” Hongjoong threw his hands up uselessly. “I don’t know what else to say, Seonghwa. I’m willing to give it a try, if you’re still down for it.” 

“I’m down,” Seonghwa said, voice surprisingly gentle and soft as he stared at Hongjoong. 

There was that light again. As if he couldn’t believe this was actually happening- not with excitement. But something warmer. 

“I’m so completely down…” Seonghwa laughed breathlessly. 

Hongjoong felt a mixture of warmth and nervousness settle in his stomach, a little unsure of what to do. 

“Well, then it’s settled,” he said, walking past Seonghwa without looking at him. “Now, I’m hungry, so I’m eating.” 

It was the strangest fucking agreement to date that Hongjoong had ever been a part of. Most of the time, it was just a simple question and answer… But then again, none of the guys Hongjoong had dated had ever been as… genuine as Seonghwa. 

Usually, it was Hongjoong that was the emotional one in the relationship- even if he didn’t say a lot of what he felt, he used actions more usefully- but it seemed like Seonghwa had an emotional range that far surpassed any of his other exes. 

Honestly… Hongjoong was a little relieved. Because there had been a few too many times of his old boyfriends poking fun at him for being emotional or for being clingy. 

As if it was a bad thing that Hongjoong apparently got invested quicker than they did. Hongjoong had felt like a bit of an idiot, taking a middle school relationship so seriously. 

Seonghwa looked like he was taking this very much seriously. 

Seonghwa sat in the seat beside Hongjoong, and neither of them looked at each other. They ate silently… but not awkwardly. Like they both agreed there was nothing to say and they weren’t going to force it. 

Hongjoong didn’t really feel any different, but that was okay. He was sure it would sink in later. 

Until the bell rang, they didn’t speak- Hongjoong preparing to leave with nothing but a small wave and a promise to see him later. 

“Hongjoong.” 

He glanced back, his stomach flipping despite the fact that nothing was happening. 

Seonghwa rolled his lips, hands twisting nervously. “Are you free this Wednesday still?” he asked in an attempt at casual. 

Holy shit was he about to arrange a date already? 

But Hongjoong nodded. “I have an essay to work on and some art to complete, though.” 

Seonghwa faltered for a moment. “Would… it mess you up to go out? Maybe to dinner again? Somewhere more private,” he said quickly, wincing at the memory of the photo that leaked. 

Hongjoong debated on this. He ran through his schedule, tossing his head back and forth. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “I may need to study that day, too.” 

“Okay,” Seonghwa said, nodding in understanding as he smiled gently. “I just thought I’d ask-” 

“But,” Hongjoong said quickly, surprisingly even himself. He hesitated, the echoes of being clingy in his head. 

But Seonghwa had offered first. This wasn’t being clingy. 

Make an effort, damn it.

“But,” he said, “if you wanted… I mean, it’s probably stupid, but if you wanted to just hang out at my dorm… I could probably multitask? We could make dinner. I mean- I don’t have a lot, and it’s definitely not what you usually eat-” 

“That sounds great,” Seonghwa broke in, his face breaking into a smile bright enough that Hongjoong almost thought he was being made fun of. 

But Seonghwa rose onto the balls of his feet, looking excited. 

“That sounds perfect,” he reiterated. “Don’t worry about cooking, though- We could order something in?” He asked carefully, looking delicately at Hongjoong. 

It… had been quite a few number of boyfriends… since someone had been so excited to hang out with Hongjoong. Usually, from the beginning, it was casual. More like hanging out than dating (with additional… more non-platonic actions…) 

But Hongjoong was nervous about the way his heart leapt slightly. 

“Sure. We can work out details when you get there?” he offered. 

Seonghwa nodded, lips pursing from trying to stamp down his smile. “I think that sounds like a lovely idea.” 

Hongjoong smiled and ran as fast as he possibly could. 

~~~~~~~

Wooyoung sat next to him in Design. More people glared and hissed their threats. 

Wooyoung smiled genuinely as they began working, nudging Hongjoong’s leg with his own before falling silent. 

It was the first time Hongjoong saw Wooyoung remain seated and working the entire class period, without getting up to run around. 

He went to work that evening, and he didn’t even care about how tired he was or how much his feet hurt after the first few hours. Somehow, on a day when his entire life should be considered ruined… 

Hongjoong considered it one of the best days of his life. 

~~~~~~~~

Though the verbal and outright shouts of hatred and outrage quieted within a couple of days, the glares and death-stares did not. 

And Hongjoong was not the only one subjected to him. 

When he entered into English on Tuesday, he found three people standing around Yeosang’s desk. 

“Seriously,” one boy hissed. “What dirt does he have on you guys? You don’t have to hang out with him- Does he know something about Seonghwa? Are you trying to protect him or something?”

Hongjoong paused in the doorway, one hand gripping his bag as Yeosang stared at them with dull eyes, clearly not going to respond. 

“Yeosang,” one girl said sweetly, reaching out a hand to him. “You can talk to us. We’re your friends. We don’t want to see you getting mixed up in the wrong crowd-” 

Before her hand could touch his, Yeosang snatched it away, his expression never shifting, never looking at her. The girl gasped at the clear, sudden, and unexpected rejection, clutching her hand like he had burned it. 

Even Hongjoong started at the vehement rejection, not used to seeing it from someone like Yeosang. 

Yeosang’s eyes drifted to Hongjoong standing in the door and something in his face softened minutely. “Hongjoong,” he greeted, his eyes showing an undeniable pleasure at the disgust and outrage on the three people’s faces as they glared at Hongjoong who walked forward. 

He ignored them, as if they weren’t even there, greeting Yeosang back. 

The three stormed away, like staying near him any longer would cause them to create a scene they couldn’t afford. 

“Are you sure this isn’t going to hurt your business relations?” Hongjoong couldn’t help but ask. He just needed to be… absolutely sure that he wasn’t ruining these people’s lives. 

Yeosang huffed, looking vaguely amused. “They’re the ones who are bad businesspeople. Business is all about liking everyone, and acting when necessary. They’re just very poor actors. I told you, their parents can’t end our agreements just because their kids are pissed about school friends.” 

Hongjoong hummed. 

“If anything, within the week their parents will beat it out of them,” Yeosang assured him, leaning on his hand (Hongjoong wanted to laugh at how he made it seem like a photoshoot was happening). “It won’t end the relationship, but no one wants bad blood between business partners. Or their kids to make their company look bad by attacking a member of another company.” He smiled quietly. “And if their kids are potentially creating that for no reason… their parents will not be happy.” 

Though it was the 10th reassurance, Hongjoong felt better, able to concentrate on class. 

For the first time, everyone showed up to eat lunch in the classroom to give them some privacy- extra desks pulled over. 

Similarly, Hongjoong found out at lunch, everyone else had been cornered by their “friends” who demanded to know anything from if Hongjoong had blackmailed them, was servicing them, or if this was an elaborate prank that they wanted in on. 

“Seonghwa’s got it worst, though,” San assured Hongjoong when he winced at San’s classmate swearing to draw out of a business deal (an empty threat, he was assured). 

Hongjoong had… actually forgotten that Seonghwa was the other half of this whole situation. He turned to Seonghwa quickly who glared at San for ratting him out. 

Seonghwa’s expression softened into reassuring as he looked at Hongjoong. “He’s making it sound like I’m being mobbed- it’s not that bad,” he said firmly. “But I have a very large circle of friends because of my father,” he explained. 

Hongjoong nodded slowly, his fried rice forgotten. 

“My family isn’t like theirs,” he said, gesturing around to the others. “People can’t come up and make demands of me- or it would be very stupid of them to try. It just means that they’re resorting to more… underhanded methods to get me to admit that something is going on.” 

“They’ve upped their ‘we’re friends’ game,” Wooyoung explained, rolling his eyes. “Nobody at this school is anything but a business partner to us, aside from the people in this room. We don’t give a shit about cutting ties with them until they learn how to fucking behave.” 

“You think they will?” Hongjoong questioned, still glancing at Seonghwa. 

“I told you,” Yeosang explained quietly, leaning on his desk. “It’s all about acting. Their parents will force them to play nice, and they’ll either learn to lie about accepting you as one of us, or they’ll continue to be cut off from us. But they will comply with the former.” 

“No one will ever actually accept you,” Yunho warned him, expression a mixture of dark and pitying. “But once they learn to lie properly, things can go back to normal.” 

“Speaking of things going back to normal,” Jongho said, finally looking up from his textbook with sharp eyes aimed at Hongjoong. Which then glanced at Seonghwa. “How did you whole… conversation work out?” 

Seonghwa and Hongjoong were seated in separate desks, though they sat next to each other. They glanced over and locked eyes for a brief moment. 

Truthfully… Hongjoong didn’t feel much different. He didn’t feel obligated, expected, or pressured into acting any differently with Seonghwa. So he wasn’t. He just… acted like he felt like. 

Whether or not Seonghwa was hoping for more affection, he didn’t know. But they were taking it slow, alright? It had only been 24 hours. 

It took Hongjoong a couple of seconds to realize that Seonghwa was waiting for him to answer. To reveal as little or as much as he was comfortable with. 

Hongjoong… had to stare a little longer, swallowing thickly, oddly… touched by the gesture. 

Seonghwa did a lot of grandiose and flamboyantly obnoxious things… but also a lot of little things. Things that you wouldn’t bother doing… unless you were being genuine. 

“We sorted it out,” Hongjoong said, still staring at Seonghwa to check his reaction, which softened slightly once Hongjoong spoke. “We’re gonna…” He glanced at the six others waiting patiently. “We’re gonna give it a try,” he said confidently. 

“ Yes! ”

“Fuck!”

Hongjoong watched as Yeosang leapt up from his chair, punching at the air as Wooyoung slammed his face onto his desk. 

“Come on!” Wooyoung cried as Yeosang beamed excitedly- most certainly the most hyper display Hongjoong had ever seen from him. “You couldn’t have waited a couple more weeks?” Wooyoung demanded. “You were so dead set on not dating him! Aren’t you moving a little fucking fast?”

“Hell no,” Yeosang cheered, sitting back down and grinning triumphantly at Wooyoung. “I told you- from the very beginning I knew they weren’t gonna last. Pay up.” 

“You guys were betting on us?” Seonghwa gasped, glaring.

“We’re the only ones who did it officially,” Wooyoung sighed, reaching into his wallet grudgingly. “Everyone else was too scared to put money on it.” 

“I called it,” San said, nodding sagely. 

“What was the bet?” Seonghwa demanded. 

“I bet Wooyoung that you guys would end up together within a week after Seonghwa said he was going to take Hongjoong out to dinner as a thank you,” Yeosang said, unapologetic as he took Wooyoung’s cash. 

“I figured you had more spine,” Wooyoung huffed, glaring at Hongjoong like it was his fault. “You had to fall for him? You and everyone else in this place? Come on- You practically wanted to kick his dick in for a while!” 

“I know destiny when I see it,” Yeosang said smugly, settling back in his chair. 

Seonghwa glanced at Hongjoong. And while he was reserved in his expression, Hongjoong could tell he was checking to see if it had upset Hongjoong. 

But Hongjoong laughed. 

A genuine… amused… gleeful laugh that came from his chest. That made him close his eyes and bow his head as his shoulder shook, the weight of every gaze in the room on him, but he still laughed. 

“You guys are fucking ridiculous,” he managed, shaking his head sharply. “A fucking bet? Don’t rich people have anything better to do?” 

Hongjoong didn’t feel any sort of betrayal. Not even a vague annoyance. It just… felt like something friends did. Taking bets (though rarely with real money) and trying to figure out who would do something stupid first. 

He laughed because it was funny. 

And when he glanced over, Seonghwa looked beyond relieved, smiling quietly. “Assholes,” Seonghwa muttered, turning away. 

Hongjoong looked up at Wooyoung and Yeosang who looked pleased with themselves, shrugging without remorse. 

Somehow, in those days that were supposed to be the end of his life, Hongjoong found his spirits lifting, despite not realizing they had dropped so low. 

He felt genuinely… happy. 

~~~~~~~~

Hongjoong was painting when the doorbell rang loudly through his dorm, momentarily rising above his music playing. 

Immediately, he leapt to his feet, heart jumping as he checked his phone. It was already 5? 

“Coming!” he called, rushing through the hall and sliding in his socks on the tile as he opened the door quickly. 

Seonghwa looked startled by how violently it was opened, jumping and clutching something to his chest. 

Seonghwa was dressed more casually than Hongjoong had ever seen- with dark jeans and a large white sweater that looked like it was probably really soft and designer. His hair was flat, not styled, and his hands clutched a small bouquet of flowers. 

Not some extravagant dozen roses, but what looked like a small wildflower collection- different shapes, sizes, and colors- not a single one of them matching each other. 

Hongjoong’s breath was promptly and suffocatingly stolen. 

It… 

It had been a long time since… Maybe even the first time ever… that Hongjoong had… liked someone. Had felt something like this when he saw them. 

He had learned not to get invested in people because they were never going to be invested in him. 

But Seonghwa face visibly brightened as he caught sight of Hongjoong. 

It made more emotions swell in Hongjoong’s chest. 

It wasn’t excitement. Not lust or frenzy or joy or even really happiness. And he really didn’t think it just had to do with the fact that Seongwha was by far the most attractive person who had ever expressed an interest in Hongjoong. 

It was something terrifying and confusing, and it was holding Hongjoong’s lungs hostage. 

Seonghwa was staring at him curiously. “May… May I come in?” he asked respectfully, lips twitching. 

Hongjoong mentally slapped himself. “Yeah,” he said quickly, stepping aside and gesturing him in. 

Seonghwa smiled warmly, entering slowly, as if this was his first time coming in, glancing around, admiring the lack of decor… 

Hongjoong closed the door numbly and the bouquet was suddenly held out to him, making him freeze. 

“I… I almost didn’t get them,” Seonghwa explained. 

He didn’t look so afraid this time. Just nervous. Fidgeting like he wanted Hongjoong to like them. 

He didn’t seem scared that Hongjoong would leave. Just the kind of nervousness that came when going out with someone you liked. 

It was really fucking cute. 

“But, I passed by the window and I saw these sitting there, and they…” he glanced down at them, wetting his lips. “They just… reminded me a lot of you, and they were really cheap, so I… I wanted to get them. For you.” 

Seonghwa smiled nervously, and Hongjoong felt that same pressure in his throat from their kiss. The one that almost felt like needing to cry. 

But it made Hongjoong reach out slowly, taking the bouquet carefully and staring at the mixture of what might be considered a pretty ugly bouquet… 

He thought it had personality. And he stared at them for perhaps a bit too long, his chest squeezing. 

It wasn’t the fact that Seonghwa had bought him this that made his chest tighten… it was just… the thought that Seonghwa had seen them and thought of… 

Hongjoong had never been first in any person’s life but his mom’s. 

Hongjoong couldn’t place any fault on his old boyfriends- they were mutually looking for a high school relationship. Neither of them were under the impression that this was supposed to be serious. 

Hongjoong just let himself feel too deeply too quickly every time. 

But it also meant that Hongjoong wasn’t used to the little things that Seonghwa seemed able to supply endlessly. The little things he said and the way he looked at Hongjoong and something as simple as buying flowers-

Hongjoong swallowed thickly. 

He was… walking down a road he was unfamiliar with… and he was walking rather quickly. It was a beautiful road, but everything inside of him told him to be careful… But he didn’t know why. 

He didn’t feel unsafe. He didn’t feel in danger. He felt… 

He felt something. But it was way too early to try and name it. 

“They’re so pretty,” Hongjoong said finally, running a gentle hand over the delicate petals. “Thank… you,” he managed, offering Seonghwa a smile. 

And it wasn’t fair that such a small smile on Hongjoong’s part elicited just a blinding smile on Seonghwa, who looked genuinely delighted that Hongjoong liked them. 

Hongjoong hid his face by going to find a jar to put them in. 

“Did I interrupt your painting?” Seonghwa asked, standing awkwardly in the doorway of the kitchen. 

“Hm?” Hongjoong hummed as he grabbed an old paint jar. “How did you guess?” he questioned as he placed the flowers in them. 

They were a little rag-tag. Mismatched. But still pretty. 

Hongjoong’s chest felt warm at the thought that they had reminded Seonghwa of him. 

“You’ve got…” When he trailed off, Hongjoong glanced over and Seonghwa pointed to his own cheek with a chuckle. 

Hongjoong passed a hand over his cheek and his finger came away orange. 

“Oh.” 

Hongjoong had long since stopped being embarrassed about showing up places covered in paint. It had sort of become his brand. 

“Well,” Hongjoong said as they were both standing. “I’ve made some progress, but I still need to finish up the coloring on my painting. If you’re hungry now, though, we can-” 

“I’m fine,” Seonghwa assured him. “You can finish your work, and then we’ll order something in?” he offered, head tilted curiously. 

No pressure. No cumbersome date personas… Hongjoong nodded readily. 

“Sure. It shouldn’t take me too long.” 

And that was how Seonghwa was the first person to ever enter into Hongjoong’s special space. 

Even at home, Hongjoong’s mom had respected the little line of tape on the floor of his room that was his art corner- never knowing what was trash or what was an art-being-made. 

But Seonghwa sat on the ground (refusing vehemently Hongjoong’s offer to get him a chair). 

And for the first time… Hongjoong had someone live-commentating on his artwork as he made it. 

“Isn’t it uncomfortable?” Seonghwa asked curiously, eyes following Hongjoong’s brushstrokes mechanically. “Sitting on the floor like that?”

His set up was good: he knelt or sat on the floor, and his canvas leaned up against the wall at an angle. “Nah,” he said distractedly, carefully running a line of blue over green. “I’m used to it.” 

“What’s this piece on?” 

“Color.” 

“How does it accomplish that?”

Hongjoong chuckled as he used his finger to smudge the paint slightly. “Usually, I don’t have to answer that until I turn it in for evaluation.” 

“Consider it a practice run.” 

“Warm and cold,” Hongjoong murmured. “Every warm color is drawn sharply and the cool colors are smooth. See?” He pointed at the different strokes. 

“Cool,” Seonghwa said, and Hongjoong heard him shift closer. “Is this why your clothing is all painted over?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Is it purposeful?”

“Sometimes. Most of them are just casualties.” 

There was a short silence as Hongjoong shifted backwards to see the full picture. It was… actually really fun. Seonghwa asked questions that didn’t grate on Hongjoong’s nerves and his presence didn’t make Hongjoong feel like his every stroke was being judged… 

Hongjoong’s pessimistic self couldn’t help but wonder when that would stop. 

“I like them.” 

“Like what?” Hongjoong asked without glancing over, grabbing more brown. 

“Your painted clothes,” Seonghwa said, and when Hongjoong looked over, he sat cross legged and holding his ankles, almost excited. “I liked them since I first saw them. The style suited you.” 

Hongjoong chuckled, settling back on his ankles as he jerked the brush harshly. “Well, my mom just about beat my ass black and blue on a weekly basis, at first. She was tired of washing paint out of my clothes, but I could never keep it out. We both stopped trying eventually.” 

“My mother once berated me for a week because I jumped out of a tree and tore a pair of pants,” Seonghwa informed him, smiling. 

Hongjoong paused, looking over in disbelief before laughing. “Did you jump out of a lot of trees?” he questioned, feeling like another light had been thrown onto Seonghwa. 

More and more lights were thrown, showing more and more parts of him that weren’t hidden, but just needed the right amount of attention to come out. 

“I was usually good enough not to get caught,” Seonghwa muttered, grimacing as he pushed his lips out. “I didn’t jump after that time, though. Wasn’t worth the fallout.” 

“Did she ground you?”

“Fiercely,” Seonghwa laughed. “A week without doing anything but going to school and going home.” 

“How old were you?” Hongjoong demanded, grinning at the story. 

“Five.” 

His eyebrow leapt up. “That seems like a pretty harsh punishment for a five year old,” he noted without much real surprise. His mom had spanked him for worse when he was younger. 

But Seonghwa shrugged. “I was raised pretty strictly. I knew doing it was going to get me in trouble if I got caught,” he chuckled. “Honestly, it was worth it for that one time.” 

Hongjoong glanced at him, but Seonghwa smiled back at him, eyes warm with nostalgia, and Hongjoong found his lips twitching, too, smiling back as he returned to his painting. 

They talked. Just talked as Hongjoong got some progress done, and when Hongjoong mentioned that he was almost finished, Seonghwa suggested they order their food now. 

“Where do you want?” Hongjoong questioned, shaking out his hand. 

Seonghwa didn’t answer immediately, and when Hongjoong glanced over, he was frowning in deep concentration. “I’ve always wanted to try tteokbokki,” he said seriously, like this was a very well-considered thought. 

Hongjoong balked. “Wait- you’ve never had tteokbokki?” he demanded, getting to his knees. 

He shook his head. “Not the delivery ones,” he said, shrugging. “Our cook at home makes it sometimes, but I’ve never had the cheap kind. I was always curious about it.” 

And Hongjoong almost made a bigger deal out of it- because what kind of life was he living that he hadn’t ever had instant tteokbokki-

But, then again, Seonghwa had never had bagged chips and strawberry snack cakes, so maybe it wasn’t that large of a stretch. And… 

Well, Seonghwa’s eyes looked eager to try it, and Hongjoong always hated when people would cut someone down over something they were genuinely excited about. 

So, Hongjoong didn’t berate him for not knowing. 

He smiled, matching Seonghwa excitement. “Do you like spicy foods?” he asked. 

Seonghwa blinked. “Um. Well, not really-” 

“Then you’re in for a fucking ride,” Hongjoong snickered as he grabbed his phone. “I’ll get the one I like, and if you don’t like it, we can find something else, okay?” 

When he glanced up, Seonghwa stared at him, lips slightly parted, as if his attention was completely stolen by something. That Light shining in his eyes. 

“Yeah,” Seonghwa said quietly, smiling warmly, fondly. “I think I’ll like it.” 

~~~~~~~~

“I think I’m dying.” 

Hongjoong laughed as Seonghwa fanned his mouth with his hands. “You’re not dying-” 

“I can’t feel my tongue!” he burst, looking at Seonghwa desperately. “Why does it hurt so bad? What did they put in this?”

“Flavor,” Hongjoong said as he ate another bite, laughing perhaps a bit cruelly. “It’s not that spicy, just eat some radish with it.” 

Seonghwa looked betrayed, taking a bite and snatching the container of dumplings closer to himself. “These are mine,” he declared. “Since everything else you ordered is poisoned .” 

“It’s not poison, you big baby,” Hongjoong laughed, throwing a chopstick at him. “It’s good stuff- and it’s cheap, too. You wanted the experience, didn’t you?”

“It’s a bad experience,” he muttered, taking a long sip of cola to chase away the spice. “You’re trying to kill me. I actually got you to agree to go out with me, and you’re trying to kill me- ”

Hongjoong was comfortable as he laughed. He wanted to be scared by how comfortable he felt with Seonghwa, but he was too high on genuine laughter and good food. 

Hongjoong was happy and content as he poked fun at Seonghwa, who responded like a child being teased. 

So he leaned over, shoving Seonghwa over with a laugh, sending him rolling sideways from where they both sat on the floor around the table. 

Seonghwa cried out indignantly, and what Hongjoong did not expect was for him to sit back up and shove Hongjoong back, effectively cutting off his laughter. 

“You jerk-” 

Hongjoong was shoved back yet again as a pillow collided with his face, but his hands were quick enough to snatch it away- body switching to offense as he felt giggles in his chest as he slammed it back into Seonghwa. 

When the pillow was drawn away, Seonghwa’s hair was skewed and he raised his arms in defense, but there were no other pillows. 

Surrender was not an option. A war had been started. 

Hongjoong rose on his knees, using the pillow as a barrier as he threw his body against Seonghwa’s. 

He remembered a time when he had enough friends that their entire room would be nothing but flying bodies and war cries. 

High school had sort of stopped that. Everyone was a little too mature for it, and Hongjoong was always a little too busy for that sort of playing. 

It felt good to be doing it again, even if it was childish. 

While his body weight may not be much, it was enough to knock Seonghwa back- the other curling around Hongjoong to keep from hitting his head on the carpet- both hands clasped at Hongjoong’s waist as Hongjoong straddled his knees triumphantly. 

“You’re heavy,” Seonghwa panted, making a show of struggling to breathe. 

Hongjoong gave him an unimpressed look and shoved the pillow over his face. 

Seonghwa’s laughter was muffled by the fabric, his hands flailing and trying to shove Hongjoong away. 

Vaguely, Hongjoong wondered what Sunglasses would do, seeing him attempting to smother the ambassador’s son. 

His grip on the pillow suddenly loosened as his expression fell for a moment. 

He wondered if any of Seonghwa’s friends had ever played with him like this… 

Or were they too afraid of being punished? Maybe, logically, Hongjoong should also be scared of what might happen, but… 

But he wasn’t. Because it was just Seonghwa. And Seonghwa was nothing but a kind person who needed to be smothered at the moment. 

But his momentary absence was enough for Seonghwa pull the pillow down from his face, revealing flushed cheeks and hair that, for once, was not stylish- his eyes bright with revenge-seeking and his lips pulled back in a blinding smile- 

For a moment, Hongjoong was taken aback by the appearance that made Seonghwa look more… well, human than ever. Carefree and innocent. 

The pillow was promptly torn from Hongjoong’s grip and then Seonghwa’s body was falling onto him like a whale falling into water. 

“ Gah! ”

Seonghwa laughed freely at the noise from Hongjoong’s squashed lungs as Hongjoong kicked at him, grinning as Seonghwa quickly removed the pillow, like a game of peekaboo, his face peering over the edge of it with such carefree abandon. 

Seonghwa’s eyes were sparkling as he breathed heavily, staring down at Hongjoong. 

“I would very much like to kiss you again,” he said, a little breathless. 

Which wasn’t fair because Hongjoong was the one who had his lungs being crushed, and the statement only made his entire body freeze- like a fight or flight instinct kicking in. 

Seonghwa’s smile dimmed slightly, but not in disappointment. Rather, like turning from blazing sunlight into quiet warmth as he stared down at Hongjoong, his hands still clutching the pillow in front of him. 

“I’m sorry if it’s forward,” Seonghwa said quietly, though there was no regret in his voice as his eyes trailed Hongjoong’s face. “Or if it… ruins the moment. But… I promised to tell you when I had those kinds of thoughts.” 

Hongjoong’s body had once again shut down, but it regained its footing much quicker than the first time. 

“Why?” he murmured, staring up at Seonghwa, aware of his weight against his legs. 

Hongjoong expected Seonghwa to think on it or to shrug or to just laugh… but Seonghwa’s lips tightened slightly, like he was trying not to smile again. 

“Because you make me… very happy,” Seonghwa whispered quietly, like it was a secret just for the two of them. 

And those words hit Hongjoong’s chest harder than the statement of wanting a kiss. 

Why was Seonghwa able to be so open about that sort of stuff? Why was he so comfortable with confessing shit like that at the drop of a hat? 

It wasn’t like Hongjoong didn’t feel those things- or, at least, he didn’t reject them. But Hongjoong’s brain and emotions didn’t work like that. He didn’t look at Seonghwa and see everything he never had. 

He just looked at him and saw someone who was probably good for him, and someone that he could maybe be good for. No flowery language, no poetry… It didn’t mean that Hongjoong felt less for Seonghwa, but he just didn’t express it like that. 

Honestly, the reason Hongjoong froze for so long was because he found himself liking the idea too much. Wanting that, too. And it scared him because even if Seonghwa was the one offering, Hongjoong was scared to say yes and appear as needy or too eager… 

Despite how he was more reserved in every way, he was still scared he was making a mistake by going along with him. That was what Hongjoong had always been. Someone who wanted a lot, but was scared to ask for anything. 

Seonghwa was different from a lot of his old boyfriends. Hell- all of his old boyfriends. 

First and foremost: it was very clear that Seonghwa wanted to be in a serious relationship, which none of his other boyfriends had wanted. Second: it was clear that Seonghwa saw something that made him genuinely, undeniably happy in Hongjoong. And third: it was clear that whatever emotion Seonghwa felt towards Hongjoong was already a million miles deep, despite only being a few days old. 

Seonghwa cared and felt deeply and genuinely- and he felt those things for Hongjoong. 

No one had ever felt those things for Hongjoong. And with the realization that Seonghwa was different from anyone else, Hongjoong was coming to realize that he wanted… to be different too. 

Hongjoong had made a logical but critical error in his first meeting with Seonghwa: he assumed, based on other people he had met, what Seonghwa’s motives and personality were. And he had been wrong. Seonghwa proved him wrong. 

Hongjoong had been serious before, when he semi-broke down in front of Seonghwa: he didn’t want to be someone who was angry and bitter. He didn’t want to be in a relationship where he was afraid of showing what he actually felt. 

It was clear that Seonghwa didn’t want to hold back his emotions… and it was more than a little addicting to think that Hongjoong didn’t have to, either. 

Hongjoong wanted to be different, too. Different than he used to be- both as a person and as a boyfriend. 

So, Seonghwa sat above him, asking to kiss him… because Hongjoong made him happy. 

(Hongjoong felt that pressure in his throat again, trying to swallow around it.) 

It was… probably the most heart wrenching thing that anyone had ever said to Hongjoong. 

But Hongjoong swallowed the part of him that told him to deny or make Seonghwa work for it. 

“Then… I don’t see why not,” he said, voice a little thick and unsteady the longer he stared at Seonghwa’s face. 

Seonghwa’s face that always looked at him in a way that made Hongjoong want to look away. Like he was staring straight through Hongjoong- as if he was seeing every cell and thought and corner of his body and mind… 

And he still smiled. Still held that light like he couldn’t believe that someone like Hongjoong was actually real. 

As if, despite how he was basically below Seonghwa in every way… Seonghwa saw him as something like an unobtainable treasure that he still couldn’t believe he found. 

No one had ever looked at Hongjoong like that. 

Seonghwa braced a hand on one side of Hongjoong’s head, lowering himself down slowly, and Hongjoong forced himself not to hold his breath. 

The other hand removed the pillow between them and slowly touched Hongjoong’s jaw. 

But Seonghwa paused a few inches above his face- eyes so close and looking like they held galaxies as they searched Hongjoong’s face, wide and open like he was inviting Hongjoong to also look and see every cell and thought and corner of him… 

Hongjoong just didn’t really know how yet. 

“Do you actually want to date me?” Seonghwa asked quietly, again like a secret between them. 

His eyes held no fear or nervousness or insecurity. They were still warm and bright, but almost a little playful, like he thought it was funny that Hongjoong might have tried to lie. 

Hongjoong, though, was shocked by the question. “I told you,” he said, voice matching Seonghwa’s on instinct. “I wouldn’t have agreed if I didn’t want it, too.” 

Seonghwa’s lips curled slightly, his expression quiet. “Will you ask me to kiss you?” he requested. “So I know I’m not forcing you…” 

Hongjoong might have been exasperated at all the steps Seonghwa wanted to go through… but all he could feel was his chest clenching at the fact that Seonghwa was so desperate to ensure that Hongjoong wanted this, that he wasn’t feeling pressured, that Hongjoong knew he had the freedom to leave if he wanted… 

They seemed trivial and obvious to Hongjoong, but Seonghwa only knew that Hongjoong had done a complete 180 in nearly cursing him, to suddenly agreeing that maybe dating wouldn’t be so bad. 

Seonghwa needed reassurance that he wasn’t being too needy, too eager… That he hadn’t forced Hongjoong into anything. 

Hongjoong’s chest hurt as he swallowed. “Seonghwa… can you kiss me?” 

There was only a beat between Hongjoong’s question and when Seonghwa’s lips covered his, warm and smooth and firm- 

Seonghwa’s hand cupped Hongjoong’s jaw, and reflexively- holding on for dear life- Hongjoong’s hands leapt up- one to Seonghwa’s waist and the other clutching his bicep tightly. 

God, Hongjoong had never felt dizzy during a kiss, especially one that was nothing more than a gentle movement against each other- never moving deeper than their lips- but it was- 

Hongjoong felt like a kid. One who didn’t understand how the real world worked and was still wading through a sea of douchebags to find his prince charming. Waiting for the perfect person.

Hongjoong had convinced himself that perfect didn’t exist. That was just real life. 

There was no instant spark, there was no electric kiss, there was no feeling safe in their arms, as if that space had been made just for you. 

And whether it was just emotions or not, Hongjoong gently pulled Seonghwa closer because it felt safe here. And all of his past experience was yelling for him not to trust it, but for once in his life he let himself take the risk. 

And he let himself feel the weight of Seonghwa’s body against his, and the gentle hands holding him like he was scared he might bruise, and the fact that Seonghwa smelled like some sort of pine cologne, and the way he kissed Hongjoong so slow and gently… 

As if he had nothing better- nothing that his diplomatic father could bring up, nothing school could ever give him- nothing better to do than kiss Hongjoong like it was all he ever wanted to do. 

And for once in his life, Hongjoong let himself have what he wanted. 

He always curbed what he wanted. Money was tight at home and his mind was focused on school and his heart was already too weak and easily broken. He was used to putting aside wants. Especially those that came with risk. 

It’s why relationships stayed casual. Why he couldn’t be too eager. 

But Hongjoong felt that pressure welling in his throat, and he pulled Seonghwa closer, until his full body weight was nearly on top of Hongjoong, though he tried to protect him with the hand by his head. 

Hongjoong’s other hand tangled in the hairs at the back of Seonghwa’s head- 

Holy shit, his hair was soft. 

There were so many sensation flying around Hongjoong, making him dizzy- 

Seonghwa suddenly pulled back, and Hongjoong hadn’t even realized how much air he’d lost until they were both breathing into each other’s mouths, their chests brushing with each breath. 

Seonghwa’s eyes were heavy but shining, and Hongjoong didn’t even want to know what sort of a mess he looked like. 

But Seonghwa’s eyes flickered across Hongjoong’s face quickly, like he couldn’t stop staring. 

He laughed quietly, eyes scrunched as he smiled quietly. “You…” 

Hongjoong’s fingers curled a bit tighter in his hair nervously. 

“You make me… very happy, Hongjoong,” he whispered hoarsely. “Happier than I’ve been… in a long time.” 

Seonghwa said it as if he placed so much weight on that fact… as if there was no greater gift he could have given him. 

“We’ve barely known each other a few weeks,” Hongjoong said, that part of him winning for a moment. “We’ve been dating, like, three days.” 

Seonghwa chuckled quietly. “Haven’t you already figured out how you feel about me?” Seonghwa asked. “Don’t you already know whether you’re miserable or not?” 

Hongjoong huffed, because maybe he had a point, but he swallowed the sarcasm that threatened to come out with it. 

He looked at Seonghwa’s eyes, and he felt like he was locked into place. “I’m… I’m happy, too,” he said quietly, not expecting how Seonghwa’s expression brightened warmly. “Not… Not just with you… with everyone,” he confessed. “I… I missed having friends.” 

Seonghwa’s lips quirked. “Am I just a friend?”

Hongjoong laughed, relieved at how easily the sound came as he hit Seonghwa’s chest. “Well, I don’t usually let my friends pin me to the floor and make out with me, but for you, I’ll make an exception.” 

Seonghwa chuckled, dropping his head, and Hongjoong anticipated the pressure against his lips- 

But instead there was just a gentle kiss to the swell of his cheek before Seonghwa was sitting up, dragging Hongjoong up, making him dizzy from the position change. 

“The food will get cold,” Seonghwa said quietly, pulling Hongjoong by his wrist. 

They sat beside each other as Hongjoong steadied himself. 

Seonghwa didn’t let go of his hand, and when Hongjoong glanced down, long fingers were interlaced with his own small ones. 

Seonghwa didn’t acknowledge it. 

Hongjoong hid his smile as he grabbed his chopsticks back and took a quick bite. 

No one… had ever made him feel quite like Seonghwa did. In the ways that Seonghwa did. 

~~~~~~~

“You’re coming over to my place,” Wooyoung told him in Design on Friday. 

Hongjoong paused his colored pencil, glancing over. “Come again?” he asked, lowering his head to stare at him. 

“You’re coming over to my place after school,” Wooyoung said without breaking his concentration of lines. “Everyone else is coming. You are, too.” 

“Why? What are we doing?” Hongjoong questioned, frowning. 

Wooyoung glanced over with an equally confused frown. “Hanging out?”

“What does that entail?”

“Food? Games? Talking?” Wooyoung said, bewildered. “You’ve hung out before, Hongjoong. You told us.” 

“No, I know,” Hongjoong said, waving a hand. “But why am I going?”

Wooyoung took a full moment to stare at Hongjoong like he was insane. “Because… we’re friends? And Seonghwa said you don’t have work until tomorrow evening? And you’re a hermit who needs social interaction aside from the bitches who glare at you at school? What part of this is confusing to you?”

Okay, so maybe Hongjoong was still getting used to all this. It wasn’t his fault, though. Making friends was always hard because you didn’t know where the lines were drawn. 

Hongjoong had some “friends” from work that he would chat with and complain with at shift change, sometimes. But he would never dare try and see those people outside of work. He didn’t know if they were just school friends or… whatever they were. 

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter if you’re confused,” Wooyoung said, returning to his design. “You’re just following me out of class, and we’ll drive to my place.” 

“How long is this going to take?” Hongjoong questioned. 

“I don’t know? A couple hours? A few? People will come and go as they have to,” Wooyoung told him absently. “We won’t keep you till one A.M, don’t worry.” 

Hongjoong was still worried by the lack of information. 

Especially over the state of Wooyoung’s house. He didn’t know if these families were the type who had big houses, mansions, or estates. But Hongjoong knew that whatever that house was worth, he shouldn’t even be allowed to go in it.  

The other part of him was tensing in something almost like excitement. It had been a while since he had done anything outside of school. 

The last part of him was recoiling in fear. “I have studying to do,” Hongjoong warned him. “So I might need to do it while I’m over.” 

Wooyoung stopped drawing long enough to glare at him. “Do you really think that hour of studying is going to make a difference for an exam you have in a week?” 

Hongjoong narrowed his eyes. “Yes, actually, I think it will.” 

Wooyoung sighed, rolling his eyes as he smiled pityingly. “Good luck trying to study. Things can get pretty wild.” 

“Wild how?” Hongjoong demanded, feeling his stomach drop. “Why did you only tell me this now? Why not give me time to prepare?”

“You don’t have to prepare to hang out, Hongjoong,” Wooyoung sighed, tisking. “But either way, we almost weren’t going to because Seonghwa was going to have to meet with his father. But he got out of it this morning because his father has a more serious meeting to attend to.” 

“Do you not hang out if everyone can’t make it?” Hongjoong asked, thinking that that was actually pretty sweet. 

“No,” Wooyoung assured him. “But Seonghwa is usually the one who can’t make it, so we try to have specific hang outs so he can get out the house for a while.” 

Hongjoong paused for a moment. 

“Hm,” was all he said in response. 

There was that stereotype that had followed Hongjoong around all his life of someone “never having worked a day in their lives.” And Hongjoong was absolutely sure that half the people in this school maybe never had. 

But maybe that was what set Seonghwa- and the rest of his friends- apart. 

Design passed much slower than usual, but it still seemed way too quick that Wooyoung was picking up his bag and grinning, asking Hongjoong if he was ready. 

The angry gazes of the classroom followed them as Wooyoung and he walked out together. More followed them down the hall. Across the courtyard. 

Over the course of the week, Hongjoong had gotten good at ignoring them, but these were followed by harsh whispers- probably because this was the first time Hongjoong had very clearly been going somewhere with one of the others. 

They made it to the small line of cars picking up kids after classes. Some were sporty and bright, some were plain black cars, and a few were limos. 

Wooyoung lead Hongjoong to a limo where a man in uniform stood. Hongjoong was trying to let certain things just roll over him, instead of gawking over them. He was actually saving a lot of time that way- just accepting the fact that everyone had things like this. 

The man opened the door for them, Hongjoong thanking him quietly as he got in behind Wooyoung. 

He paused momentarily when he saw that Yeosang was already sitting in the far seat of the limo. It had two rows facing each other with a window divider for the driver. 

Wooyoung got in and immediately sat beside Yeosang, gesturing for Hongjoong to sit across from them, grinning. “Let’s go, hyung!” he urged when Hongjoong had stopped. 

He finished climbing in, the door closing behind him as he took a seat across from them. 

Yeosang smiled. “So he managed to rope you into it?” he asked, looking amused. 

“I don’t think a choice was given,” Hongjoong muttered good naturedly. 

Wooyoung laughed as he reached over Yeosang to press a button. “If we gave you choices, you’d never do anything.” 

The blacked out window behind Hongjoong rolled up. “Well, yeah, but still,” He huffed, grinning. 

Despite the fact that he had just seen the window roll up, he still nearly choked when Wooyoung leaned over and gave Yeosang a quick kiss. 

That was a fucking shock for two reasons: Hongjoong had never seen either of them do anything romantic and had sort of forgotten they were a thing, and they were in public. Sort of. 

“How was the shoot?” Wooyoung asked, settling down closer to Yeosang- from their shoulders to their thighs pressed together- much closer than they were a minute ago. 

“Boring,” Yeosang sighed, tilting his head back. “Never do modeling, Hongjoong,” he told him firmly. “Don’t listen to people. It’s all just snobby people telling you what to do, and you just sit there. You sit for so long. It’s hell .” 

“Poor baby,” Wooyoung chuckled, reaching over and lacing fingers with Yeosang, leaning his head on his shoulder. “I’m sure you were miserable having dozens of people telling you how pretty you were.” 

Maybe Wooyoung couldn’t see it from his position, but Hongjoong watched Yeosang lower his eyes to glare in warning at Wooyoung, who just looked pleased with himself. 

“Don’t worry,” Wooyoung chuckled, a bit more serious this time. “You can pick what video game we play first.” His thumb began stroking over the back of Yeosang’s hand slowly. “Since you need to relax and unwind, pretty boy.” 

Yeosang’s face turned that same shade of barely-there pink, as he hit his head against Wooyoung’s roughly, making Wooyoung yelp. 

Hongjoong could do nothing but stare at the interactions between the two that were nothing like he ever expected them to be. He glanced behind himself at the window, knowing that they wouldn’t be doing it if they weren’t sure, but he was paranoid at such blatant displays that crossed the line of platonic-

“It’s fine,” Yeosang's voice assured him, making him look back at them. 

They had already stopped fighting, Wooyoung simply curled around Yeosang and resting his head on his shoulder, both of his hands curled around one of Yeosang’s, slowly playing with his fingers. 

Perhaps the most startling thing was how annoying and teasing their exchanges were, while at the same time they were holding onto each other gently… reassuringly. 

“It’s soundproof, and there’s a piece of leather on the other side of the window, so he can’t see back at all,” Yeosang explained. “We’re safe back here, don’t worry.” He smiled. And it was a bit… touched. 

“I’ll be honest, I sort of forgot you guys were a thing,” Hongjoong chuckled nervously. “You really don’t act weird at all at school.”

Wooyoung grinned. “We’ve got practice. It does get annoying, though,” he huffed. “We don’t risk anything on campus- too many people and cameras and shit. We’ll do mild stuff like this in the car, but we usually wait until we’re home and can just chill in one of our rooms.” 

Hongjoong hadn’t even opened his mouth to ask his question before Yeosang answered it. “One of us is always at the other’s house,” he said, nodding. “Our parents encourage it. It keeps us busy and it keeps relations good.” 

Wooyoung chuckled, squeezing Yeosang’s hand. “Very good,” he joked, making Yeosang kick at him. 

Hongjoong experience with relationships was limited to the gross high school relationships, the casual making-out-not-quite-sex relationships, and his father who abused and left his mother. 

Looking at Yeosang and Wooyoung… who clearly cared for each other a lot, but could show it in ways other than sticking their tongues in each other’s throats in public… who didn’t have anything to prove. 

Their relationship was the polar opposite of a show. They had nothing to prove, nothing to show off… just each other was enough. 

Even though they weren’t acting like completely different people… Hongjoong could see the ways that the two had relaxed. How Wooyoung’s smile was a little more gentle, instead of blinding. How Yeosang’s glares were a little more fond. 

How even as they joked about throwing each other out the car, their hands were clasped tight, like they didn’t want to let go. 

“You two… look good together,” Hongjoong said, smiling quietly. 

It was reassuring, more than anything else… to see that it was possible for two people to be like this. Loving each other just for the sake of each other. No show windows. No lying. No flamboyance. 

Yeosang and Wooyoung both look surprised and then embarrassed by the statement. “Shut up,” Wooyoung laughed, shaking his head. “Just wait until you and Seonghwa get to this point.” 

Hongjoong choked a little bit, but shook his head. “You have no idea where Seonghwa and I are in our relationship.” 

“He’s kissed you twice-” 

“You asked him to-” 

“You tried to kill him with spicy-” 

“You’ve told him multiple times that you don’t care about who his family is-” 

“He talked about it?” Hongjoong demanded, his stomach flipping and his heart stopped. 

“Gushed,” Yeosang told him. 

“Like a schoolgirl,” Wooyoung added, grinning. “Can you blame him?” he laughed. “He’s got it fucking bad for you, and you…” 

Wooyoung’s expression suddenly sobered slightly, Hongjoong trying to focus on that and not the clear admission that Seonghwa “had it bad” for him. 

“You’re good for Seonghwa,” Yeosang finished for Wooyoung, nodding. “I think you’re something he needs.” 

Hongjoong blinked. “What do you think he needs?” 

The two of them straightened, glancing at each other. “Someone who will see him,” Wooyoung finally answered. “Someone who doesn’t care who he is. You attacked him with a pillow. Most people would be afraid to be arrested for treason or some other shit.” 

Hongjoong winced. “Well, the thought had crossed my mind, but…” 

“But you still did it,” Yeosang finished. “Listen, Hongjoong-” 

Each time Hongjoong thought he had Seonghwa figured out… other things kept happening. But it seemed like everything was starting to come together a bit. 

“-Seonghwa wants to be treated normally,” he said firmly. “He doesn’t resent his father or his career path, but he has spent the majority of his life alone.” 

“We talk about that,” Hongjoong said, nodding. 

“Then you’re one of the few,” Wooyoung told him sternly. “You’re smart- you know that Seonghwa is probably the nicest person you’re ever going to meet… He’s never going to complain. And he certainly isn’t going to demand that people treat him normally.” 

“Not that they probably would, even if he did,” Yeosang huffed, looking annoyed. 

“The point is,” Wooyoung pressed, “that Seonghwa’s really fucking into you.” 

Hongjoong’s heart skipped. 

“So if you hurt him… we will hurt you,” he said, glaring for a moment. 

Despite how serious he could see Wooyoung was, he laughed. “Don’t worry,” Hongjoong said, looking out the window. “I’m much more scared of all the ways Seonghwa could hurt me instead.” 

All of them, without even realizing he had. 

~~~~~~~~

Wooyoung lived in a house that was just on the under side of being considered a mansion. 

It had a spacious lawn, a long driveway, and a wrought iron gate surrounding it with decorative shrubbery along the way. 

“My parents didn’t flaunt their wealth in their housing,” Wooyoung explained as they drew closer to the house, and he and Yeosang separated to a respectable distance of friends. “However, anything you find in there that’s made of fabric, I wouldn’t touch unless you have several million available to hand over.” 

He winked playfully, and Hongjoong laughed despite not thinking he was joking at all. 

The man opened the door, and they got out, walking up the steps. A woman opened the door in a similar uniform to the man. 

“Several of your other friends have already arrived,” she told Wooyoung, bowing as they entered. 

“Thanks,” he said, grinning as they set their bags on the table just inside the door. “Let’s go- I’m sure Jongho already drank all the sodas in the fridge.” 

“His parents don’t let him have sugar,” Yeosang told him, looking truly distraught for a moment. “He doesn’t like it much, either, but soft drinks are his guilty pleasure.” 

The house was spacious and modern, and made Hongjoong want to talk with whoever had designed it. 

There was no blatant color pattern or design, but every merged in an eclectic static- looking like it blurred together as much as it popped out. 

Wooyoung laughed. “Like it?” he asked as they climbed a staircase as wide as a room. 

Hongjoong’s head was craning back to stare at the gentle purple trims on the upper walls. “Yeah,” he said a little breathlessly. “I’d kill to meet whoever designed this place. The color schemes here are incredible,” he murmured. 

Yeosang snorted, catching Hongjoong’s arm when he nearly tripped on the last stair. “I’m sure Wooyoung’s mom would love to have that conversation with you,” he chuckled. 

Hongjoong balked. “You mom designed it herself?” he demanded. 

Wooyoung grinned, feline and proud, as if he had done it himself. “She did,” he said proudly. “She works in fashion, but interior design is her hobby. If she gets home early tonight, maybe you can talk to her about it. She changes it every couple of years.” 

The thought of meeting any parents of his friends was… incredibly terrifying. 

Especially since this was a woman who… for all intents and purposes… was forcing her son to operate in secret, just to be in a relationship. 

Neither Yeosang nor Wooyoung spoke about their parents with contempt, though. Maybe annoyance, but… it didn’t seem like their parents were horrible people. Maybe just making stupid decisions. 

Wooyoung slammed open a door and ran inside. “Hands off the cookies, bitch!” 

Yeosang rolled his eyes (that fond tilt of his lips stealing away the annoyance) and dragged Hongjoong in, closing the door behind them. 

Everyone but Seonghwa was already gathered in a room that looked like it was both a bedroom and game room combined. In one corner was a huge bed with an entertainment system surrounding it. 

Two of the walls were taken up by screens and computers and game devices with a couch in one section and a series of beanbags in another. 

“Holy shit,” Hongjoong said, voice shaking with disbelieving laughter. 

“It’s only because we’re here most often,” Yeosang explained as Wooyoung dove onto the couch where Yunho and Mingi were playing a game together. “He doesn’t touch half this stuff unless there’s someone to play it with him.” 

Hongjoong glanced over very carefully. “Aren’t you usually here with him?” 

Yeosang glanced over knowingly. “I am. But I’m not very into most video games. I only like a few.” 

“What do you do when you’re over, then?” Hongjoong questioned, intrigued. 

Wooyoung and Yeosang seemed like two polar opposites- even when Yeosang did open up a bit in the comfort of his friends’ presence. 

How the two of them were so fond of each other was baffling. 

Yeosang shrugged. “I have my places around Wooyoung’s house that I like. Usually, we just lay around his room and talk a bit. Cuddle a bit…Other stuff...” 

When Yeosang glanced at Hongjoong with a smirk on his face, Hongjoong shrieked in scandalized innocence, slapping his arm sharply. “I do not want to know about-” 

“Hongjoong!” Yunho suddenly called across the room, shoving Mingi off the couch. “Can you play Call of Duty at all?” he demanded as Mingi whined at being rejected. “Mingi sucks, and Jongho won’t play.” 

(Jongho was sitting on the ground with a can of coke cradled in his hand as he watched the TV play a loading screen.) 

Hongjoong hesitated, but nodded. “I mean… I only played a few times at a friend’s house…” 

“You’ll still be better than Mingi,” Yunho begged, kicking at Mingi with his foot until Mingi held up the controller. 

“It’s just a game,” he huffed, lips pushed out petulantly. “Not everyone can be perfect…” 

“Mingi, you do suck more than a usual amount,” Jongho murmured around the straw in his mouth. 

“Okay, assholes!” Mingi burst, throwing his hands up. “Why are we all picking on me?”

“Because Seonghwa’s not here yet,” San said, as he leaned on the back of the couch. 

“When’s he getting here?” Jongho asked, leaning back as Hongjoong took Mingi’s spot on the (very comfortable) couch. 

“Should be soon,” Wooyoung said, squashed between Yunho and Hongjoong. “Pass me the cookies.” 

For the next 45 minutes…. Hongjoong had fun. More fun than he thought he would have. Not that he thought it would be miserable, but he kept expecting it to be awkward. 

But when he managed to kill Yunho and get a shit ton of XP, Yunho didn’t hesitate to leap over Wooyoung and attempt to strangle Hongjoong. And Hongjoong didn’t hesitate to drag Wooyoung into his path and roll off the couch ninja style. 

But San was a traitorous bastard and held Hongjoong down until Yunho tossed Wooyoung on top of him- 

Hongjoong never expected these rich kids to be so physical, but Hongjoong was wily and small, and slipped out from under Wooyoung who was screaming for Yeosang to come help him. 

Yeosang merely smiled as he ate another cookie, a few crumbs clinging to the corner of his mouth, and a smear of chocolate on his lip. 

“I didn’t realize I had been invited to a wrestling match…” 

Hongjoong lifted his head to see Seonghwa entering the room, smiling fondly as he closed the door behind himself. 

“Sorry,” he said as the other cheered for his entrance. “Got caught up talking on the phone.” 

His eyes scanned across them all, landing on Hongjoong who had one arm held by Yunho and the one leg being sat on by San. 

He laughed, something genuine and deep in his chest. “Are you having fun?” he questioned, trying to stamp down the majority of his amusement. 

Hongjoong blew a piece of hair out of his eyes. “I’m fending off animals- does it look like I’m having fun?” 

Seonghwa chuckled, shrugging off a black overcoat and tossing it onto the dresser beside him. “It looks like you are.” 

Hongjoong planted his free foot against San’s shoulder and shoved him back. (He very much suspected that San let him go, because San was apparently trained in kicking ass.) He tore his hand away from Yunho and got to his feet, leaping over Wooyoung’s hands that tried to snatch at him. 

He stumbled away until he reached Seonghwa, panting and using him as a shield, making the other laugh brightly as the other three analyzed how to approach the situation. 

“Am I nothing but a shield?” he chuckled, wrapping one arm back and holding onto Hongjoong defensively. 

Wooyoung gestured to San about something, and Hongjoong felt the pride in his chest rise up at the thought of being able to avoid them. 

“If you protect me, I’ll give you a kiss hello,” Hongjoong told him, grinning when Seonghwa glanced back at him- checking if he was serious. 

Hongjoong was. And not… not just for the triumph at beating them. 

He did not, however, plan for Seonghwa to turn around, pick Hongjoong up like a sack of potatoes, and sling him over Seonghwa’s shoulder. 

The scream he let out probably reached throughout the house, but everyone within the room was too busy rolling on the floor with laughter as Seonghwa carried Hongjoong flailing form to the bed in the corner of the room. 

“Seonghwa!” he cried, both clinging to Seonghwa’s chest and kicking his legs to be released. “Seonghwa! Seonghwa, sto-” 

Hongjoong was thrown onto the bed like he weighed nothing, bouncing in the soft blankets with another shriek. 

Seonghwa turned to their friends who were currently dying on the floor. “I will give each of you a sucker if you leave him alone.” 

“W-Whatever,” San managed as he clutched his stomach. “Je-Jesus, that squeak-” 

“It was like a fucking mouse getting stepped on,” Wooyoung gasped, cackling. “Yeosang- Yeosang, did you fucking hear? ”

Yeosang was also hiding a more reserved laughter behind a hand as he nodded. 

Hongjoong’s face burned as he glared at Seonghwa who turned back to him, smiling warmly. “Consider yourself protected,” he said calmly. 

Hongjoong crossed his arms. “Well, then you were an asshole, so I don’t think I want to kiss an ass.” 

Seonghwa feigned offense, placing a hand on his chest. “And after I did so much to defend you. Should I just throw you back to the sharks?”

“I’ll kick your dick,” Hongjoong threatened. “I’ll break it. And then what will you have to talk with?”

Seonghwa snorted as San stared in shock at the descriptive threat. 

Seonghwa knelt on the bed, grinning. “But do I get a kiss hello?” he asked politely, hands resting on his knees. 

Hongjoong was so tempted to kick him off the bed. 

But Seonghwa wore a black turtleneck and his hair was styled with a bit of fluff, looking quite nice. 

And yes, fuck it, Hongjoong missed him a bit. 

It had been a long time since Hongjoong had actually missed spending time with someone. 

“Fine,” he huffed, sitting up on his knees. “But only because you’ll probably cry if I don’t.” 

“Is that what it takes to get kisses?” Seonghwa chuckled, reaching a hand out and taking Hongjoong’s gently. “Crying?”

Hongjoong refused to show much much his heart sped up just at the gentle hold on his hand. “Don’t cry,” he begged. “I get too flustered when people cry. I’ll be too busy panicking to kiss you.” 

Seonghwa smiled, chuckling, the warmth in his eyes shooting through Hongjoong’s chest like a heat lamp, turning his chest hot. 

There was just a gentle tug on his hand, guiding Hongjoong forward, and Seonghwa kissed him gently. 

More like a peck than a kiss, but it lingered on Hongjoong just long enough to make something warm shoot through his blood before Seonghwa pulled away, practically glowing. 

Hongjoong was still coming to terms with the fact that apparently he was what made Seonghwa look like that. 

“Hello,” Seonghwa said coyly. 

“Fucker,” Hongjoong said instead, making Yeosang snort into his hand. 

“That’s gay!” San called. “Stop making out and come figure out what we’re doing now that Seonghwa’s here.” 

“I’m fine over here,” Seonghwa said, flopping onto the bed beside Hongjoong, smiling up at him. “Any preference?” 

Hongjoong glanced from the bed with the two of them, over to the couch spilling over with people, watching them. 

All of them smiling. Wooyoung and Yeosang exchanging glances and smirks. San seeming pleased. 

Pride told Hongjoong to go over to the others- because it was weird if he was eager to stay by Seonghwa so soon into their relationship. 

And it was that reason that made Hongjoong swallow his nerves, settling back on some pillows beside Seonghwa. “Wooyoung’s bed is comfortable,” he decided. 

“Isn’t it?” Yeosang asked coyly, just to have Jongho chuck a pillow at him. 

“Keep it PG, hyung,” Jongho warned as Yeosang tossed the pillow at Wooyoung for no reasons than to fuck with him. 

“A movie, then?” Yunho suggested. “Since apparently everyone is so comfortable where they are?” He raised an eyebrow at Seonghwa and Hongjoong. 

“Seonghwa, wanna watch a movie?” Wooyoung questioned curiously. “Or play a game?” 

“I’m fine with anything,” Seonghwa assured him. “But a movie sounds nice. I’ve needed to use too much brain juice today.” 

Hongjoong, because he liked being an asshole, patted Seonghwa’s stomach pityingly. “I’m sorry. I know you’ve been running on empty lately.” 

Seonghwa gasped in genuine shock as Hongjoong snorted- his laugh cut off by Seonghwa body rolling on top of him and practically smothering him into the bed. 

The others got things ready as Hongjoong flailed beneath Seonghwa who had his arms and legs octopused around Hongjoong. 

He honestly… hadn’t expected it to be this carefree here. For the others to be just as dumb and excited as his old friends ever were. 

Seonghwa’s head wound up beside Hongjoong’s that was yelling for aid. 

“I’m glad you came,” Seonghwa whispered, voice dipping slightly with sincerity as he curled his arms around Hongjoong tighter. “I was worried you might not.” 

Hongjoong swallowed the part of him that wanted to be sarcastic. 

Seonghwa deserved something genuine every now and then. 

“I’m glad I came,” Hongjoong confessed, his flailing arms resting around Seonghwa’s back, tired from their workout. “I’m glad you were able to get away from your work.” 

Seonghwa hummed for a moment, staying quiet as his weight continued to pin Hongjoong down. He expected Soenghwa to leave immediately, but Seonghwa just took a slow breath that he let out quietly, relaxing slightly. 

And maybe it was a little presumptuous, but it felt like those times when he would get home from school and collapse in his bed, relaxing in comfort after a long day, surrounded by the familiar scent and feeling of being home. 

Hongjoong felt that pressure in his throat at the thought of Seonghwa doing that with him. Like he had missed Hongjoong. Like seeing Hongjoong had made his day better. 

Hongjoong didn’t shove him off, even when it started getting a little too hot to breathe. 

“Alright!” San’s voice yelled after a long moment of Seonghwa doing nothing but resting against Hongjoong. “Enough! Break it up! If Wooyoung and Yeosang have to keep it PG, so do you! Off!” 

Seonghwa laughed, rolling off of Hongjoong and sitting up as the others began to climb onto the bed. 

Hongjoong… Hongjoong also felt a little better after the quiet moment. 

As quick and chaotic as this group was, Hongjoong felt something blooming in his chest at the quiet moments he and Seonghwa had. 

He was shoved over into the corner with Seonghwa at his side, tugging him closer as eight people attempted to fit on the king bed without blocking the TV on the wall that Mingi was inserting a disc into. 

San locked the door, turning off the lights and hopping onto the bed. 

In the dim light, across the bed, Wooyoung was already sitting in Yeosang’s lap, pulling the other boy’s arms around him and locking them together like a seatbelt as he leaned back. 

Hongjoong half-expected Yeosang to shove him off, but he merely settled back against the wall, tugging Wooyoung closer so his head could rest on Yeosang’s shoulder. 

Wooyoung smiled, leaning back and whispering something into Yeosang’s ear that made Yeosang chuckle, ducking his head and kissing Wooyoung quietly. 

They both smiled into the kiss that everyone else was ignoring- not yelling for them to get a room. He supposed that this was their room. Their only moments that they could do things like this. 

Even after they parted, they continued to stare at each other- Wooyoung with stars in his eyes and Yeosang with something heavy and warm as they murmured something Hongjoong couldn’t hear. 

Wooyoung laced their fingers together, and Yeosang kissed Wooyoung’s neck as he turned back around, settled in like this was his second home. 

Yeosang rested his head against Wooyoung’s as the commercials began to play. 

The sight was… 

Hongjoong didn’t know if he felt happy or distraught each time he looked at them. Both. Something piteous and something that was in awe of the two of them who had apparently been doing this since they were teenagers. All in secret. 

Hongjoong’s back rested against the corner of the wall with Seonghwa pressed against one side. He had San’s legs in his lap and Mingi was laying on his feet, with Yunho crowding his other side. 

Hongjoong shifted slightly to get comfortable and give Yunho enough room to move- 

Seonghwa’s arms snaked around Hongjoong’s shoulder and tugged him over as he scooted to make room. Hongjoong started for a moment, glancing up at Seonghwa who smiled quietly. 

“Is this too close?” he asked quietly as the menu pulled up and Jongho maneuvered through it. 

Hongjoong took stock of himself for a moment, considering if he spent the movie a foot farther away from Seonghwa… and saw no reason to really do it. 

Part of him was tired of being timid. Part of him was screaming to slow the fuck down. 

So far, Seonghwa was doing a damn good job at making the former part stronger. 

“This is fine,” Hongjoong whispered back. “I’ll let you know if I get claustrophobic.” 

Seonghwa seemed pleased with this, nodding, keeping his arm around Hongjoong’s back. 

With the way they were seated, it would probably be most comfortable and easier for Hongjoong to lay his head on Seonghwa’s shoulder. 

He hesitated all the way until the beginning credit began to play, before holding his breath, letting his head fall onto Seonghwa’s shoulder gently. 

Seonghwa went still for a moment before shifting to make the height more appropriate for him. 

“This… okay?” Hongjoong whispered. 

Seonghwa hummed in affirmation, the sound rumbling in his chest as his fingers rested on Hongjoong’s waist, curling gently to hold him. 

That pressure in his chest grew at the gentle hold- both of them close, but neither holding the other captive. 

It felt good. 

That was what kept scaring Hongjoong. Being with Seonghwa felt really good. 

He spent most of his attention focused on the warm spot from Seonghwa’s hand and the line of heat that matched up with their two bodies pressed together. Occasionally, Seonghwa’s thumb would stroke at Hongjoong’s hip idly. 

Hongjoong didn’t know if this sort of position had ever happened without being intended to lead to something more heated. 

With each passing chunk of the movie, Hongjoong relaxed further into Seonghwa, allowing his tense muscles to loosen. 

He kept glancing at Wooyoung and Yeosang- who alternated between sitting quietly and watching the movie, and kissing quietly- Wooyoung’s fingers holding onto Yeosang’s arm tightly, and Yeosang’s body curling around Wooyoung slightly, like a shield from the others. 

They kept themselves quiet- most of the others never even glancing their way. 

Their touches and kisses weren’t meant for anyone but themselves. They weren’t showing off… they weren’t performing… They were a secret. 

About halfway through the movie, Seonghwa’s head dropped so that his cheek rested against the top of Hongjoong’s head. A quiet whisper asking if it was okay, and Hongjoong settled in, comfortable with the weight surrounding him. 

About ¾ way through the movie, the full weight of Seonghwa’s head fell against Hongjoong’s head, and he glanced up, trying to see what had changed. 

A quiet breath was all he heard from Seonghwa, but Wooyoung glanced over at the sound, grinning. 

“Tired old man,” he snickered, tapping Yeosang and jerking his head towards Seonghwa. 

Yeosang chuckled, and San glanced back at Seonghwa, snickering. “That’s why he wanted to watch a movie,” he whispered. “He just wanted to sleep.” 

Oh. He was asleep. 

“Want us to rescue you?” San offered, going to sit up. 

“No,” Hongjoong said quickly, quietly as San paused. “It’s fine. Don’t wake him up or anything. It’s fine.” 

It was. Hongjoong was comfortable- he just hoped Seonghwa didn’t get a crick in his neck. 

San smirked. “Cute,” he chuckled as he settled back in. “He’ll sleep through anything, though, so let us know if he starts crushing you.” 

Hongjoong hummed, now hyper aware of the fact that Seonghwa had fallen asleep against him. 

The way his hand on his hip was still resting firmly, the way his breathing had evened out, the slightly-heavier weight of his body resting against Hongjoong’s… 

The way Hongjoong was suddenly aware that he could hear Seonghwa’s heartbeat. Slow and even and strong… 

Hongjoong swallowed. 

This was really… really fucking nice. And also a position that he had never been in before. He also didn’t think he would have been comfortable enough to let it happen, with anyone else.

Seonghwa was different though. 

And Hongjoong couldn’t help but be scared. But he tried to shove it away, closing his eyes and focusing on Seonghwa’s heartbeat and his breaths and his weight… 

They were comforting. Peaceful. And somehow, knowing that Seonghwa was sleeping peacefully was comforting to Hongjoong. 

He liked Seonghwa. 

A lot. 

Seonghwa liked him. 

A lot. 

Somehow, that scared him even more. 

~~~~~~~~~

“Mom? Hi… I just… wanted to talk to you about someone. Nothing bad! It’s just… There’s this guy I met… And I think I like him… I like him a lot…” 

Hongjoong’s heart was too big, his mom liked to say. 

He loved too easily, and he’d gotten hurt because of it before- just from casual relationships that were never supposed to go anywhere. 

He didn’t know what it would do to him if he fucked up a relationship where he was this happy… this hopeful… 

Where the other party was, for the first time, just as eager and hopeful. 

He clenched the phone to his ear tightly, clenching his eyes shut as his mom’s comforting voice filtered through. 

“I like him, Mom,” he confessed in a quiet whisper that was bracing for the worst. “I- I like him… a lot. I-I’m scared, Mom.” 

Hongjoong didn’t want to see the fallout of this. For him or Seonghwa. 

But if perfect people didn’t exist, neither did perfect endings. Which meant that Seonghwa and he were probably going to crash and burn. 

He didn’t want to. 

“I… I want to be happy, Mom,” he whispered painfully. “But I… I want him to be happy, too. What if I’m caring too much? What if I’m just being irresponsible? What if I’m being stupid?” 

His mom tisked quietly, piteously. “Hongjoong… Sweetheart, it’s never stupid to want someone to be happy. If something happens and you get hurt… you’ll know whether or not to walk away. Because the answer won’t always be to walk away.” 

Hongjoong didn’t want either of them to walk away. 

But what other outcome could possibly come but that? 

He was scared.

But fear and desperate hope were mingling in his chest, creating a tornado of inevitable fallouts and his innate belief in Seonghwa. 

He had to trust that Seonghwa meant everything he said. 

He had to trust that both of them would choose not to walk away. 

Hongjoong wanted to walk together, for the first time in his life. 

Chapter Text

Hongjoong was… happy. 

He was more stressed than he had been in a while, now having to balance a social life and his schoolwork with work. 

It led to staying up later some nights, and having to work a bit faster on some projects, and taking more time at lunch to study for the endless quizzes that plagued him. 

He was stressed, but he had been stressed before. What he hadn’t been before was content with a very real, supportive social life that both understood and supported his need to keep up his grades, but also drew him away when they knew he had crossed the line from “prepared” to “obsessive.” 

And even if Hongjoong had to beat San off with a stick to let him study instead of going to the PC room, and even if Yeosang had to physically restrain Wooyoung after Hongjoong refused to go over once again, and even if Yunho turned on the puppy eyes when he said he couldn’t hang out after class because of work… 

Hongjoong was happy. 

Ridiculously happy. 

Especially when Seonghwa sat by him at lunch, the two of them speaking more than they ever had. Especially when Seonghwa asked if Hongjoong was busy, if he wanted to hang out at his apartment or to go out to take a break… 

Especially when Hongjoong resisted the urge to be irresponsible, and told Seonghwa he couldn’t hang out, even if he really wanted to… and Seonghwa just smiled a smile that seemed to assure Hongjoong that he could wait a decade or more for him. 

(Hongjoong’s emotions didn’t know what to do with someone who actually showed their affection and interest in him. It was a horrible and intoxicating feeling.) 

He saw the others so much, and he and Seonghwa went on…. Could you call them “dates?” It was just them hanging out, maybe walking around, usually peppered with a few gentle kisses here and there with a couple confessions about how good a time they were having… 

Hongjoong used to cringe at the thought of those couples who stared at each other with stars in their eyes. 

But it just knocked the breath out of him each time he saw it in Seonghwa- knowing that he was looking at Hongjoong like that. 

Seonghwa made Hongjoong feel like the center of the fucking universe each time he looked at him. 

No. 

Seonghwa made Hongjoong feel like the center of his fucking universe. Like Hongjoong was everything he had ever wanted. 

Someone to treat him normally. Someone to see him for him. Someone who wasn’t afraid to touch or tease and smack. It seemed like such a low bar to have, and the thought often made Hongjoong’s chest pinch. 

Because Seonghwa wore that sadness beautifully. In gentle smiles and small shrugs, letting it flow off of his shoulders, despite how much you could see it weighing on him. 

Hongjoong started calling his mom more. Because he was panicking. 

“Are you still worried?” she asked poignantly, and he could practically see her hand resting angrily on her hip. “Hongjoong, it’s been a couple of weeks, you have to-” 

“I’m not,” he sighed harshly, his back up against the bed as he sat on the ground with his knees drawn up. “I’m not worried, Mom… that’s the problem. I literally think that everything is going to be fine! And that’s freaking me out-” 

He rubbed at his eyes tiredly, still having more work to finish after this conversation. But he and Seonghwa had texted, and Seonghwa wished him good night and Hongjoong’s heart was still beating fast. 

“He’s nice,” he said, throat closing dangerously. “He’s so fucking nice, and he treats me so fucking well- and all my friends are amazing. He’s unreal , Mom. He’s level headed and he’s considerate… And I like him way too much for how long I’ve known him- but he’s… he’s not perfect, Mom, but he’s so fucking close-” 

Hongjoong choked a little bit- not crying, but feeling emotions pressing against his chest. 

He wasn’t… good at this. At liking someone so deeply. And the way he liked Seonghwa was completely different from how he liked literally any other boy- no matter how smitten Hongjoong had been. 

He liked Seonghwa with his whole fucking chest. It wasn’t a rush of endorphins or a surge of emotions that got his blood racing when he saw Seonghwa, like it had been with others. 

Everything with Seonghwa was warm. Slow. Careful and delicate- like Seonghwa thought he deserved to be treated just like that. 

Hongjoong saw him, and he just smiled. He could find no other way to release the pressure in his chest than to just smile, and Seonghwa would smile in turn with the fucking sun coming out of his eyes- 

Hongjoong liked Seonghwa with something deeper than he’d like anyone else with. 

“Sweetheart,” his mom tisked quietly, her voice gentle and heavy. “People like us will always think a good thing can’t last,” she whispered. “It’s hard for… someone like us- who have seen too much- to ever believe that something good will ever stick around. We’ve seen too many good things go.” 

If Hongjoong cried, it wouldn’t be because of Seonghwa, but because he was once again reminded of all the shit his mom went through in her life… just for him. 

“But just because it might leave… doesn’t mean you should stop yourself from ever enjoying it,” she urged firmly. “Your dad was a piece of shit,” she said bluntly, making Hongjoong chuckle weakly. “But before he turned bad, I had some of the best times of my life with him.” 

Neither him nor his mom knew why his dad had turned so quickly. His mom hadn’t had any sort of warning… He was just there one day, and the next, she was staring at a stranger. 

“And, yeah, I do look back on those good times and think that maybe they were nothing but a sham,” she said, voice a little more upbeat. “But they were happy at the moment. And they gave me good memories. They don’t change that he’s a piece of shit… But… Hongjoong, sweetheart-” 

He heard her sigh quietly, trying to find the words. He lowered his head until it touched his knees. 

“Not everyone will turn out that way,” she murmured. “My parents married young and stayed happy and loving until the day they died. They fought, they almost walked away, but… They’re proof that not everyone turns out like that. Maybe you and this boy won’t work out. Maybe you’ll be hurt. But, at worst, all you’ll have are some bittersweet memories… and at best… you find out that he’s gonna stick around.” 

Hongjoong hummed quietly, sighing silently. 

He should talk to Seonghwa… about everything. Seonghwa had confided in him everything about being afraid and being hesitant… Hongjoong could trust him to listen to his insecurities. 

Not insecurities. Worries. 

At the very least, he didn’t think Seonghwa would purposefully hurt him. And Seonghwa certainly looked at Hongjoong like he planned on sticking around. 

Maybe Hongjoong was being dramatic about it all. But he was getting too deep too quickly for him to just let the current take him where it wanted. 

“Thanks, Mom,” he whispered, feeling a bit better. 

“I love you, Hongjoong,” she said firmly. “And I’ll bet you your next paycheck that that boy does, too.” 

Hongjoong laughed. 

He wasn’t sure if it was hopeful or disbelieving. 

~~~~~~~~

Another thing: Seonghwa visited Hongjoong at work a lot. 

Never for the purpose of seeing him, Seonghwa assured him through a warm smile. He just really liked the chips and sweets here. 

Sometimes (not often), he would stick around to eat his chips or cake- offering half the bag to Hongjoong as they just… talked. About school, about how his work was going, about their respective classes, about whatever crazy shit their friends were getting up to… 

It made Hongjoong’s shitty, slow nights go by so much quicker. 

It made that little bubble of warmth in his chest grow bigger with each night that Seonghwa walked in, smiling brightly just from seeing Hongjoong. 

“Why do you get so happy when you see me?” Hongjoong laughed while Seonghwa passed him a piece of a chocolate bar he’d bought, both of them leaning on the counter at 11 PM. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Seonghwa chuckled, still staring with stars in his eyes. 

“Because I’m nothing special?” Hongjoong snorted. “I’m a sarcastic, cynical cretin who smacks you and makes fun of you more often than not.” 

Seonghwa didn’t miss a beat before leaning forward on the counter. “Maybe I’m into sarcastic cretins who make fun of me,” he said innocently, his smile way too genuine to be joking. 

Hongjoong looked away, his face burning. “That’s a very niche kink to have.” 

“You make me happy,” Seonghwa murmured warmly, eyes shining, not rising to the teasing. “Do I need to have reasons why? I mean, I have them,” he assured Hongjoong. “But it’s a very long list that starts with your personality and ends with your smile.” 

Hongjoong’s heart lurched painfully as he swallowed the part of him that wanted to smack Seonghwa for breaking out poetics again. “My smile is last on the list?” he joked, desperately trying to salvage his burning face and racing heart. 

Seonghwa merely grinned wider. “It’s a horizontal list- everything is equal.” 

As much as Hongjoong had been conditioning himself to be free with Seonghwa, it was still hard as fuck to stop himself from swooning at the way he talked about Hongjoong like it was nothing. 

It was fair, though. If you asked Hongjoong why he liked Seonghwa so much or why he got so… happy when he saw him, he could probably list a bunch of reasons, but they weren’t things he actively thought about. 

He just saw Seonghwa and he got warm. 

“What are you hoping to get out of this?”

The words were said without warning, taking both of them by surprise and Hongjoong cursed the fact that he couldn’t find a better time to bring it up. 

“Out of what?” Seonghwa questioned, frowning in confusion. 

Fuck it. “This,” Hongjoong said calmly, gesturing between the two of them. “Us. Being together.” 

His frown deepened, becoming slightly concerned. “I told you… I don’t have any ulterior motives-” 

“Not like that,” Hongjoong said quickly, shaking his head sharply. “This isn’t- I’m not attacking you, Seonghwa, but…” He chewed his lips slightly. “But I’m just wanting to make sure we’re on the same page. About what we want from this relationship and where we see it going.” 

Seonghwa was silent for a moment, staring at Hongjoong- both in confusion and calculation. “I… I hope I haven’t done anything to make you think this is supposed to be some kind of fling-” 

“No,” Hongjoong assured him, shaking his head so hard it hurt, expression twisting slightly. “No- Seonghwa, I’m not- I’m just… I don’t want to be investing in something that you think would have to end when we graduate in a couple years. I’m not going to… play a game for a few years if we know we have to quit.” 

He waited for Seonghwa to get defensive. Maybe a bit upset. But even as he waited for it, he knew it would never come. 

Seonghwa’s expression cleared from concerned to understanding to gentle. Warm. “Hongjoong, I…” He wet his lips. “I do not have the luxury of casual relationships,” he said quietly. “Maybe I should have said that from the start- but my family has too high a position and reputation for me to just hop from person to person.”

Right. Hongjoong swallowed. That made sense. 

“I’ve dated two people before,” Seonghwa said calmly, “and both were for a few years before it was broken off by them or their parents.” He looked at Hongjoong, slightly pleading. “I don’t date… just to break up, Hongjoong. And, if I’m honest… Maybe I’m more deeply invested than you, but I hoped to be together with you for as long as possible.” 

“You’re not,” Hongjoong burst, his entire brain completely skipping over everything else Seonghwa had said and locking onto one line. A line he was so used to hearing from himself. “You’re not more deeply invested- there’s nothing wrong with liking someone a lot- but you’re not- I like you, too, Seonghwa, just- I mean, I think it just as much-” 

Seonghwa stared for a moment before his eyes softened. “Good,” he said simply. 

Hongjoong nodded firmly. 

“I’m serious,” Seonghwa said gently. “I’m… I don’t do casual relationships, Hongjoong. I have no plans of intentionally ending this.” 

Hongjoong felt like a boulder had dropped off his shoulder, nodding as he let go of a tight breath. 

The insecurities weren’t assuaged, but they were comforted. Sanded down and rounded off so that they weren’t quite so painful… 

“Sorry,” Hongjoong murmured, rubbing at his head nervously. “That- I don’t think you would just break it off, but-” 

Seonghwa laughed gently, the sound only making Hongjoong feel more convinced. 

Hongjoong froze when Seonghwa’s hand caught his in a gentle, warm grip that traveled like lightning up his arm. 

“I know… it’s scary,” Seonghwa said quietly, eyes earnest and warm and comforting… “Being in a relationship… opening yourself up… You don’t want to get hurt. There’s nothing wrong with that, Hongjoong- I don’t want to, either.”

Hongjoong swallowed a rock in his throat as his heart pounded in his chest. 

Seonghwa ran his thumb over the back of Hongjoong’s hand. “I’ll say whatever you need me to,” Seonghwa promised quietly. “I’ll answer whatever question and I’ll reassure you whenever you need it… I don’t… want you to be scared, Hongjoong. I want you to be able to understand that… you mean… you mean a lot to me. I care about you… a lot.” 

Hongjoong had to tear his hand out of Seonghwa to wipe at his eyes roughly, his throat closing up. 

“Shut up,” Hongjoong croaked, eyes burning with a dozen emotions he couldn’t identify. “People don’t actually say stuff like that-” 

Seonghwa chuckled, taking Hongjoong’s hand again and pulling it down gently. “You always tell me that there’s nothing special about you,” he murmured. “You always say that you don’t do anything extraordinary… Promising you these things isn’t special , Hongjoong. I don’t think I’m doing anything extravagant by wanting you to feel secure in this relationship.” 

Seonghwa’s expression fell slightly. 

“And like… like you feel sorry that I find common human interactions touching… I feel sorry that you’re shocked by the things I try to offer you. But I promise that I won’t change that,” Seonghwa murmured gently. “I’ll keep giving you those reassurances, like you promised to keep treating me normally.” 

It wasn’t the same, Hongjoong wanted to protest. 

There was no way that the sort of poetics that Seonghwa dropped came naturally, there was no way- 

Once again… Hongjoong was faced with the fact that Seonghwa didn’t know much about Hongjoong’s world. But Hongjoong didn’t have Seonghwa’s world figured out, either. In fact, he was seeing that everything he thought he knew about it… was wrong. Completely. 

Hongjoong needed to stop assuming he understood. 

“Okay,” Hongjoong whispered instead, his heart heavy- but not weighed down. More like it felt full. 

Seonghwa smiled, and it made his heart twist in a circle as he released Hongjoong’s hand. “Ask me anything, Hongjoong. If it makes you feel better, I’ll answer it.” 

Hongjoong didn’t know how to deal with someone who made all these promises with every intention to keep them. 

So he just smiled, not trusting his voice if he spoke. 

He felt better, though, than he had for several days. He felt secure. 

Staring at Seonghwa’s smile, he felt… he felt safe again, like he had during that first kiss. 

Seonghwa’s smile felt like a heat lamp casting over him as he waved goodbye. 

~~~~~~~

One thing Hongjoong was beginning to learn: while Wooyoung and Yeosang had nothing to prove, nor any desire to showboat their relationship, they also had no problem with any of their friends seeing what they were getting up to, if those friends happened to be in their safe space. 

Which is how Hongjoong found himself sitting and playing Mario Kart with San and trying to ignore the rather… intimate noises happening behind the couch. 

“Are they going to stop anytime soon?” Hongjoong muttered to San who snickered. 

“They won’t actually have sex in front of us, if you’re asking. Though, they’ve gotten pretty close to a blow job, once. Jongho was never the same- Bitch! ”

Hongjoong laughed as his blue shell destroyed San. “I’m happy for them,” he assured San. “And I get that this is the only time they can actually be together, but… do they have to be so loud?” 

Hongjoong knew they could hear them because Wooyoung gave an extra loud moan, which made Yeosang slap him. 

As Hongjoong raced over the finish line, he threw a glare over his shoulder at the two of them on Wooyoung’s bed- Yeosang’s back against the wall and Wooyoung straddling his hips with both hands plunged into Yeosang’s soft hair. 

“Didn’t you say you had a shoot tonight?” Hongjoong accused, not looking at their ruffled hair and bruised lips. 

“Make up and styling hides a lot,” Yeosang told him, looking amused. 

“They don’t question how you got it?” 

Wooyoung snorted, shaking his head as his hands unconsciously dropped to Yeosang’s neck, rubbing small circles in the muscles, making Yeosang close his eyes gently. 

“They all think he’s a sex feind,” Wooyoung assured Hongjoong. “Just assume some girl got lucky with him.” 

Whether it was just conveniently timed or if the joke brought forth some specific emotions, Yeosang grabbed Wooyoung’s hip, pulling him closer until Wooyoung laughed, practically falling against Yeosang’s chest, bringing his hands up and cupping Yeosang’s face gently, grinning down on him. 

“What?” Wooyoung teased. “Feeling possessive, pretty boy?” 

“I’ll throw you off the bed,” Yeosang threatened, though his grip fell lax against Wooyoung’s hips, just holding it gently. 

Rather than the comment sparking another round of heated kissing, the two of them simply stared at each other. 

Wooyoung bumped his forehead against Yeosang’s gently, chuckling quietly. 

They did that a lot, Hongjoong was beginning to notice. Staring at each other, lost in each other, hiding quiet smiles and eyes that adored each other… a little too much. It was like the look Seonghwa gave him, on steroids. 

No matter how much the others threw pillows at them, gagging whenever the two of them were allowed to sit near each other… everyone knew how much this time meant to them. 

“Your lips are lying again, pretty boy,” Wooyoung laughed, poking at Yeosang’s lips as Yeosang flushed yet again, punching him for the nickname. 

“Please tell me that’s not what you call him in bed,” Hongjoong gagged as San started the next match, both of them racing off. 

“Ew-” 

“Gross,” Wooyoung gagged, harsher than Hongjoong had. “Dude- what the fuck-” 

“Well!” Hongjoong scoffed, leaning with his controller. “You always call him it, and then he starts blushing and shit-” 

San cried out as Hongjoong passed him. 

“It-” Yeosang cleared his throat, and Hongjoong actually turned away from the screen to see him flushed red as Wooyoung was hiding laughter behind his hand. 

He whipped back around fast enough to avoid running into anything. 

“It’s what I first called him,” Wooyoung said when Yeosang didn’t speak, voice shaking with laughter. “I just knew he was some kid model my parents had been designing clothes for. It’s what I called all the kids my parents introduced me to.” 

“He tormented him with it,” San chuckled. “He nearly ruined the contract because he made Yeosang cry with it.” 

“He was a pretty boy!” Wooyoung defended. “And I called him by his name eventually- ”

“You were an asshole,” Yeosang huffed. “And by the time we were 10, he went back to being insufferable with it.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Wooyoung is a bit of an asshole,” San told Hongjoong like he could have missed it. “I didn’t know Yeosang’s name for weeks because Wooyoung only called him ‘pretty boy’ by the time we met.”

“He just wouldn’t stop,” Yeosang muttered, crossing his arms. “I hated him a little for it.” 

“That’s because it really started being true,” Wooyoung defended. “He was cute as a kid, but around that time, he really became pretty boy, you know?” 

“Even my mom couldn’t make you stop!” Yeosang scoffed. “She told you to, and you ignored her!” 

“That’s because it stopped making you upset and started making you blush,” Wooyoung said, grinning devilishly. 

Yeosang’s mouth clicked shut as his cheeks colored. 

Wooyoung’s smile grew evilly. He leaned forward, lips closer to Yeosang’s. “Yeosang liked it when the dumbass kid his parents brought around called him pretty. Even though lots of other people called him pretty. I was special- ” 

There was the tell-tale sound of Wooyoung yelping and hitting his ass on the floor. 

“ Hey- ”

And there was the pillow slamming into him. 

Another hit. 

Another. 

“ Yeosang- ” 

Another hit. 

“ Hey, stop- ” 

Another hit. 

And then Wooyoung’s voice was muffled, so Hongjoong assumed he was being suffocated. He chuckled to himself, immediately cursing as San threw a red shell at him. 

“I think he’s about to be a pretty boy with blood on his hands,” San chuckled. 

Neither of them were prepared for the pillow that struck San so hard in the back of the head, he fell off the sofa. 

~~~~~~~~

Hongjoong had been watching Wooyoung and Yeosang for a while now. 

And he thought he knew two things for sure: they made no real contact in public, and they refused to keep their hands off each other in private. 

And despite the fact that Hongjoong had seen in their actions and touches and gazes that they felt something very… very deep for each other, Hongjoong still was caught off guard. 

He would confidently say that what Wooyoung and Yeosang felt for each other was love. It had survived long enough, with enough stories he had been regaled with for him to conclude that. 

And yet, he was still surprised when he walked into lunch one day and found Wooyoung and Yeosang sitting against the wall- strategically placed so that even someone looking in through the windows couldn’t see them. 

Wooyoung sat against the wall with Yeosang’s head in his lap, stroking his hair gently as he spoke quietly to him. Yeosang’s hand was curled tightly in the extra fabric of Wooyoung’s pants, his face hidden, but the tension in his body clearly speaking of distress. 

Hongjoong had frozen, startled by the sight. He hadn’t seen Yeosang all day- the boy having a shoot early in the morning and not coming to class at all. 

He glanced over in concern at Seonghwa, the only other one gathered, and sat heavily. “What happened?” he questioned quietly, glancing over at them. 

The hand not carding through Yeosang’s hair was resting on his waist, rubbing his thumb there soothingly. 

“Bad day,” Seonghwa murmured quietly, glancing over with pitying eyes. “Just a bad shoot. They were never satisfied, and Yeosang always gets like this when shoots go bad.” 

Hongjoong tore his eyes away, knowing that if they were risking something like that at school, it was bad. 

“He’s as introverted as you can get,” Seonghwa told Hongjoong quietly, eyes heavy. “The director said some pretty shitty things. Yeosang’s parents are already eliminating the contract, but… you can’t really take back what was said.” 

Hongjoong didn’t want to look back at the private sight. “He’s okay, though?” he murmured. 

Seonghwa nodded. “He’s just drained more than anything. He’s used to comments about his appearance. He’ll be okay.” 

Hongjoong wanted to call it unfair. But he supposed that no matter what your profession, there were going to be shitty people ruining it. 

He risked one more glance, and saw Wooyoung bending over, whispering something he couldn’t hear, but by his expression, it looked like he was trying to reassure Yeosang- who shifted slightly, curling slightly and pressing his face to Wooyoung’s abdomen. 

Hongjoong turned away. 

Another piece of reminder was thrown into his puzzle: that no matter how rich or how genuine a person… they felt and bled as easily as Hongjoong. 

When Seonghwa’s hand curled around his- squeezing comfortingly- Hongjoong let him. 

He supposed even rich kids had shitty days. 

~~~~~~~~

It was the first normal day at school in a couple of weeks. 

The photo of him and Seonghwa had effectively gone away, and while there were still a few piercing gazes following him around as he traveled with the others, it seemed as if most kids were learning to play nice. 

One girl finally approached him and Yeosang before class, smiling apologetically. 

“Yeosang, I’m sorry about how I acted before towards you and your f-friend,” she said, nearly choking on the last word. “It was immature of me.” 

Yeosang glanced at her, expression bored. “I don’t think I’m the one who needs the apology and explanation,” he said flatly, turning back away. 

Hongjoong nearly snorted as the girl looked shocked- glancing at Hongjoong, like he was trying to decide if she could get away without actually speaking to him. 

Gritting her teeth so hard, they might break, she turned to him. “I’m sorry,” she managed stiffly. “It was immature of me.” 

He wondered what her parents had threatened her with. 

Hongjoong simply hummed. “Okay. Thanks.” 

Her face flushed with rage at his flippant (but sufficient) response, nodding as she stormed back to her seat. 

Hongjoong received forceful apologies from dozens of students- most at the expectant demand of Wooyoung, San or the others. 

It was terribly amusing. 

Seonghwa was waiting in the little alleyway to Hongjoong’s dorm when he got out of classes.

Hongjoong paused, surprised to see him waiting, instead of just texting Hongjoong. “Hey,” he greeted, smiling. “Why are you lurking? Are you gonna mug me?” 

Seonghwa chuckled, but even Hongjoong could see it was a little strained. His smile faded slightly as he approached until he stood directly in front of Seonghwa. 

“Hey,” he said gently, frowning slightly. “You okay?” 

Seonghwa nodded quickly, smiling wider, though that only made it more obvious how strained it was. “Yeah,” he said easily. “I’m fine, just a little tired.” 

“Are your parents running you ragged?” Hongjoong joked, hoping to lighten the mood. 

Seonghwa chuckled, but it looked like mentioning his parents only made it worse. 

Hongjoong dropped all pretense of joking around, expression softening. “Hey,” he murmured, reaching out to take Seonghwa’s hand carefully. 

Seonghwa swallowed thickly, glancing between their hands and Hongjoong’s face. 

“Do you wanna come over?” Hongjoong questioned carefully, stomach twisting. “I’ve got some chips from the gas station?”

Seonghwa shook his head. “No, you have to study-” 

“It won’t kill me to put it off,” Hongjoong said firmly, brows drawing down. 

He never thought he’d say that in his life. But it was clear that Seonghwa was upset- or at least stressed- about something. 

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Hongjoong promised. “Just… we’ll take some time to chill and relax.” 

Seonghwa and Hongjoong had only been going out for a few weeks. But within that time, Hongjoong didn’t see Seonghwa stressed or upset very often. Maybe only once before, and he’d been fine within the hour that they were hanging out at Wooyoung’s. 

And even this seemed more obvious and serious than before. 

“I need to talk to you about something,” Seonghwa said instead of answering Hongjoong. 

Hongjoong’s stomach dropped a bit at his seriousness. 

Immediately, his brain screamed that this was Seonghwa breaking up with him. He had grown tired of something or another that Hongjoong had done, and he was finally realizing that it was stupid to look at Hongjoong and see everything he wanted. 

And immediately after that, he slammed down the doors to lock that thought away before it could fester. Seonghwa had earned more trust than that. 

Seonghwa would respect Hongjoong more than that. 

“What?” Hongjoong asked calmly, forcing his brain not to start throwing out horrible scenarios. “Is everything okay?” 

Seonghwa nodded quickly. “It’s nothing bad,” Seonghwa assured him, looking genuine. “I just- I’m just nervous about it-” 

The loud ringing of Hongjoong’s cell phone made them both jump, Hongjoong immediately scrambling to grab it out of his pocket. 

His Mom’s photo stared up at him as it rang, and his stomach dropped. “Um, I- I have to take this, it might be important-” 

Some of Seonghwa’s cloudy demeanor melted away into genuine concern. “No- go ahead, answer it,” he urged. 

Hongjoong grimaced apologetically, knowing that there was probably nothing worse than having a call interrupt something he was so worried about. 

But it was his mom. 

“Hello?” Hongjoong answered quickly. 

“ Kim Hongjoong! ” 

He jerked the phone away from his ear, flinching- 

“Would you start communicating with your mother?” she yelled. “Stop giving me heart attacks with everything I ever see! You never text me updates, you never let me know if you’re okay-” 

Her voice was audible to both of them as she yelled, Hongjoong quickly pulling his phone in and groaning. 

“Mom!” he snapped to speak over her. “Mom- What are you yelling about this time?” he demanded. “Stop- You had me worried! You usually don’t call until nighttime.” 

“I just got the most recent check you sent me!” she yelled angrily. “And there’s significantly less than you usually send!” 

Hongjoong groaned, seeing Seonghwa watching in concern, silently mouthing if he was okay. Hongjoong nodded quickly. 

“Which means you kept even less for yourself!” she continued. “Are you keeping enough?” she demanded. “I told you not to send me any if you didn’t have enough-” 

“Mom!” Hongjoong finally yelled loud enough to make her stop. He sighed heavily. “I’m fine,” he stressed. “I haven’t been working as much since my boss hired another person. Our schedules are conflicting, but it’s gonna get sorted in a couple of weeks.” 

“Then why are you still sending me money?” she demanded, voice dropping from angry to concerned. “Hongjoong-” 

“I promise, I’m keeping enough for myself,” Hongjoong pressed. “We have this conversation every time, Mom-” 

“How much did you keep? Enough for food, but what if you need to take a taxi somewhere? How much cushion are setting aside? Are you saving anything, Hongjoong? I shouldn’t be your priority-” 

“First of all,” Hongjoong sighed. “Yes, Mom, you are my priority. And second of all, I’m one person, Mom. I have plenty for myself- I swear to you, I would let you know if I was running into trouble. Where did all your trust go?” 

The last question ended in a bit of a laugh, making his mom huff in disapproval. 

Seonghwa still looked concerned at the conversation he was unwillingly witnessing. “Should I… go?” he whispered, gesturing over his shoulder. 

“No,” Hongjoong whispered back quickly. “No, I’m almost done-” 

“What?” his mom demanded. “What did you say? Are you talking to someone? Who else is there?” 

Hongjoong momentarily considered lying, but sighed. “It’s just Seonghwa, Mom. We were trying to talk before you cal-” 

“Seonghwa?” she gasped. “That boy you like? He’s there with you now?” 

Hongjoong covered his eyes, but heard Seonghwa chuckling quietly. 

“Put him on the phone!” his mom demanded. “You said the two of you had things worked out- let me speak-” 

“No, Mom,” he hissed. “You can’t talk to him right now. We were talking before you called. Can I go now?” 

“Why are you hiding him from me?” she gasped, the sound of her beginning to pace over the phone. “I just want to see- You talk about him so much, I can tell he’s different from some of those other boys you dated-” 

“Mom-” 

“I always knew that Doseok was going to a cheating son of a bitch-” 

“Mom!” Hongjoong cried, mortified as he turned away from Seonghwa quickly, shoving the phone close to his ear despite the volume. “I’m going now,” he hissed. “I’ll talk to you later, I promise-” 

“You’re sure you’re saving enough money for yourself?” she asked gently, the change in tone giving Hongjoong a familiar sense of whiplash. 

Hongjoong resisted the urge to snap back, taking a deep breath and letting his franticness die down. 

“Yes, Mom,” he replied, quieter and more genuine. “I promise, I’m doing… I’m doing really good right now…” 

There was a short pause. “Okay,” she replied, the not-so-serious yelling gone. “Stay safe, baby, okay?”

“Okay.” 

“I love you, okay?”

“I love you, too,” he said, heart doing the familiar clench at the reminder of how much he missed her. 

“Tell Seonghwa I love him, too.” 

“Mom!” Hongjoong yelped. “Why?”

“Because he’s taking care of you while I can’t be there!” she cried, voice overly emotional. “And according to you, he’s doing a good job of it. Tell him I love him.” 

“Mom, no-” 

“I’m not hanging up until I hear you tell him,” she threatened sharply. “That boy is being really fucking good to you, Hongjoong- Tell him that your mother says thank you and she loves him.” 

Hongjoong groaned, scrubbing at his face as he turned back to Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa, who was hiding laughter behind a hand clamped over his mouth, face red with the effort to stay quiet about it. 

Hongjoong’s face was burning. “My mom says thanks for looking out for me,” he muttered, not meeting Seonghwa’s eyes. “And she loves you.” 

Seonghwa nodded, still struggling not to laugh. 

“Good. Now tell him if he so much as bruises your heart, I’ll fucking gut him like a pig-” 

“Goodbye, Mom! I’ll talk to you later!” Hongjoong yelled, hitting the End Call button before she could start another round. 

He groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “This is why I don’t let people meet my mom,” he groaned, scrubbing at his face to maybe disguise the embarrassed flush. 

“I thought she was incredibly endearing,” Seonghwa said, laughing around the words though they themselves were genuine. “I can see where you got your spark and fiery personality from.” 

Hongjoong used to cringe when people told him he acted just like his mom. With age, he had come to see it as the compliment that it was. 

“Yeah, well,” Hongjoong said, taking a deep breath and fanning his cheeks. “With age, you lose your filter. And she never really had one to begin with. Sorry about that-” 

“No, I thought it was lovely,” Seonghwa said, clearing his throat of the laughter and smiling excitedly. “Watching you speak with your mom was… enlightening.” 

“To what?” Hongjoong snorted, staring in disbelief. 

“You,” Seonghwa said simply, bright smile fading to something warmer and deeper that spread to his eyes. “You love her a lot, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Hongjoong answered immediately. “We were all we had while growing up.” 

Seonghwa frowned hesitantly. “Can I ask about it?” he prompted quietly, voice carefully reserved. 

Hongjoong blinked, but shrugged. “Sure. There’s nothing upsetting about it, really.” 

“What about the aunt you mentioned?” Seonghwa asked gently, voice still careful as he asked. 

Oh. Well, that wasn’t the first thing he thought Seonghwa would ask. But he sighed quietly, shrugging helplessly. 

“She was my dad’s older sister,” he explained, the whole story no longer bringing up the raging emotions it used to. “When my dad left, she finally came around to check on my mom.” 

Hongjoong sighed bitterly. 

“She knew- or at least suspected- what my dad was doing to my mom,” he said darkly. “She was too scared of stepping in where she didn’t belong. She hadn’t had contact with her brother for years.”

Seonghwa’s expression softened and then tightened regretfully. 

Hongjoong shrugged. “Guilt made her check on my mom afterwards. She always lived nearby, but she’s…” 

Hongjoong sighed, trying to find a way to understand her without needing to give twenty one years of backstory. 

“She means well,” he said firmly. “She’s been trying to make up for what my dad did. But her personality and priorities are not what mom and mine are. She’s angry that I left for college. She keeps trying to guilt me into going back, accusing me of abandoning my mom like my dad did-” 

He chuckled quietly. 

“Honestly, I think her brother’s actions messed her up more than they did my mom or me.” He picked at a piece of dirt beneath his fingers. “She means well. But she doesn’t understand what I can do for mom if this college works out.”

Hongjoong suddenly couldn’t lift his eyes, almost scared of what Seonghwa’s expression might be. Maybe anything from confusion to pity. 

“It sucks…” he murmured roughly. “And I miss my mom… and I hate that I had to leave her, but… if I can graduate well from a college like this… I can give her a better life and repay her for everything she did for me growing up.” He kicked at the ground. “My aunt doesn’t want to look long-term. But I have to at least try… and succeed so that… I can pay her back.” 

There was a long pause that Hongjoong still couldn’t look up for. 

“You will.” 

Now, his eyes flickered up. 

Seonghwa was smiling gently. But there was pity and pain in his eyes- but more importantly: understanding. 

“You will succeed,” Seonghwa said firmly. 

Hongjoong felt his heart skip, and he scoffed, kicking at the ground. “Hopefully.” 

“I’ve seen your work,” Seonghwa pressed on, taking a step forward with conviction. “You got in to SIU- You’re top of the class, Hongjoong. Your teachers adore you- you’re never going to have a problem working hard, and you have the talent and skills to back that up.” 

Hongjoong was going to brush it off again, but Seonghwa’s hand suddenly took his- his hands soft and firm where they enveloped Hongjoong’s. He froze for a moment as Seonghwa stared at him- eyes hardening with a demand for Hongjoong to listen. 

“The one thing that people here can’t do, Hongjoong,” he said quietly, “is work hard without recognition, and empathize like their lives depend on it....” He squeezed Hongjoong’s hand as Hongjoong stared with wide eyes. “You do that, Hongjoong. And that’s why you’re going to succeed.” 

Hongjoong’s life was always and constantly swirling with worry and unknowns and inconsistencies. Nothing was set in stone. Something would always go wrong. 

He knew he had skill and work ethic- he knew that he would likely get out of here with top grades (he would have to, to keep his scholarship). But there was always that fear. 

That uncertainty. 

The fear that now that he had friends, now that he was working less, now that he had a boyfriend, now that he had things that were distracting him from solely trying to achieve these things for his mom- 

What if it all fell apart? 

But with how Seonghwa looked at him, with the way and the conviction that Seonghwa said it… Hongjoong found it hard not to believe him. 

Like when his mom had taken his face between her hands and practically yelled at him that he should go for SIU, that he was good enough to make it in, that it was worth the financial risks they would take- 

And Hongjoong had believed her. He couldn’t not. 

In this moment, Hongjoong believed Seonghwa. He couldn’t not. 

Not when Seonghwa looked like he was willing to bet all his parents’ money and wealth on that fact. Not when Seonghwa looked like he would move the sky to make sure it happened. 

Hongjoong swallowed, and was surprised to find the lump in his throat. 

His eyes began to burn and he blinked rapidly to hold back tears. “Thanks,” he rasped weakly, just the one word almost enough to break a dam he hadn’t realized was built. 

Seonghwa’s eyes traced over his face, and his expression softened into one closer to pity and pain. Suddenly, the hand holding his tugged him forward, and Seonghwa hugged him. Tight and warm and hard. 

The kind of hug that Hongjoong hadn’t gotten since he left home. The kind where even if nothing was wrong, you never wanted to leave. 

And Hongjoong surprised himself with how he relaxed into the embrace, his head falling onto Seonghwa’s shoulder as he was silently held, eyes clenching shut as he tried to breathe evenly. 

He just wanted to be able to pay back his mom. 

Not out of some weird desire to pay back a debt- no. It wasn’t an obligation that he pay her back. But Hongjoong had watched her go through hell for and because of him- like any parent did. 

He wanted her to be able to take a break. To stop having to worry about finances- or at least, to stop worrying that bills couldn't be paid, that utilities would be shut off- he just wanted her to stop having to worry so much. 

He didn’t need to be a millionaire. He just needed to be able to help her out. 

“I told you, before,” Seonghwa whispered quietly, almost sounding like a lullaby, “that I could list all the reasons I fell for you.” His hand rubbed a warm line up and down Hongjoong’s spine. “Well, here’s a few.” 

Hongjoong laughed wetly, his fingers curling in the hem of Seonghwa’s button up, throat choking up. 

“You… are the kindest… most hard working, empathetic… completely unbelievable person I have ever met. Nothing about you seems real, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa chuckled quietly. “That there’s someone who cares so much and so deeply… and is so selfless, despite having every right to be selfish and bitter... I didn’t think people like you existed, Hongjoong.” 

One more laugh, but this one sounded heavier. 

Hongjoong felt the tears falling from his eyes, but they were silent. He stared at the threads of Seonghwa’s jacket, his heart aching- for his mom and for himself. 

No one but his mom ever really believed in him. No one but his mom had ever spoken to him- about him- like Seonghwa did. 

“They do exist,” Hongjoong croaked quietly, his other arm coming up to hug Seonghwa back as he tucked his head against his neck. “There’s one right in front of me.” 

He heard Seonghwa’s breath hitch, and he felt the way he stiffened slightly under his embrace. 

And then there was a quiet, breathy laugh. “I’m very selfish, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa murmured, voice rumbling. “I hid so many things from you, just because I didn’t want to lose you. Even now, I… I feel like… like I have to hide certain things because if I show you them, you’ll decide it’s not worth it.” 

Hongjoong frowned gently within his hold. Then pulled away, breaking the embrace so that he could look Seonghwa in the eyes. 

Seonghwa’s expression was tight, but his eyes betrayed no emotions but warmth. 

Hongjoong stared at him. Really stared. And reminded himself yet again… that Seonghwa had his own insecurities. Like Hongjoong’s irrational fears born from not knowing, Seonghwa also had his own. 

“I won’t,” Hongjoong said quietly, voice tinged with confusion. “I told you, Seonghwa, I wouldn’t leave you just because there are some skeletons in your closet. I’ve got my fucked up shit, and you’ve got yours. It’d be hypocritical and shitty of me to leave, just because you were carrying something.” 

Seonghwa’s mouth opened, but Hongjoong lifted a quick hand and silenced him with a finger. Seonghwa’s eyes widened in shock. 

“You said it first,” Hongjoong said, eyes hardening. “And I know I’m not as verbal as you, and I know that I have a hard time actually saying what I feel, but… I’ll say it as many times as you need.” 

Seonghwa’s eyes grew wider, something in them growing misty. 

“Everytime you remind me that you’re going to stay, I’ll remind you that I am, too,” Hongjoong pressed. “I think it’s weird that you think I’d ever walk away when you’re basically perfect, but insecurities aren’t supposed to make sense.” 

Seonghwa swallowed thickly. 

“So, I’ll tell you whatever you need to hear,” Hongjoong said firmly. “And maybe I’ll blush and stumble over it because I’m not as good at it as you are… but I’ll do it for you, Seonghwa. I won’t leave you for having burdens- I want to help you carry them.” 

Hongjoong had never needed to be the one reassuring someone. He was always the insecure one, and his boyfriends were the ones rolling their eyes and telling him that, yes, they were still together. 

But Seonghwa’s shock faded into something heavier, warmer, as he nodded slowly. 

Hongjoong nodded back, removing his finger, and taking a proverbial plunge as he reached up on his toes to kiss Seonghwa gently. As another reassurance. 

His lips were soft and warm, and Hongjoong took as much comfort as he was giving with it, pulling away and satisfied by the lack of distress in Seonghwa’s face. 

“Now,” Hongjoong said, smiling quietly. “Why did you meet me here? What did you want to tell me?” 

Seonghwa’s eyes flickered over Hongjoong’s face, rolling his lips silently. His tongue darted out to wet them as he reached out slowly, tucking a piece of Hongjoong’s hair (that was getting longer) behind his ear. 

“It can wait,” he said gently, his lips twitching into a smile the longer he stared at Hongjoong. 

Hongjoong wished he could see himself through Seonghwa’s eyes. What part of him was making Seonghwa smile like that. Or was it impossible to name, like it was for Hongjoong?

“I’ll tell you later,” Seonghwa promised, smiling more genuinely. “You have homework to do, so I won’t keep you.” 

“Do you want to come in for a snack or anything?” Hongjoong offered, not sure if he wanted them to part ways just yet. Especially after such a conversation. 

Seonghwa shook his head, smiling gratefully. “No, it’s okay. Can I text you later tonight?” 

“I’m studying, so I’ll be up late,” Hongjoong assured him. “Whenever is fine.” 

He nodded, looking better. “I’ll see you later, Hongjoong,” he said, waving slightly. 

Despite the weight in his chest, Hongjoong smiled and waved back. “See ya.” 

He watched Seonghwa until he got into the car waiting for him. And only then did he turn and head back to his dorm. 

Their conversation through text was short that night- just asking about how their days went. Hongjoong smiled like an idiot throughout it as he finally convinced Seonghwa to use a smiley emoji. 

He laid in bed after they said goodnight, staring at the empty side of his bed in the darkness. 

For the first time, he imagined someone filling in the other side. 

At no point in their conversation was Hongjoong prepared for the next day. 

~~~~~~~~

Fridays were somehow the longest and shortest day of the week. 

Short because things zoomed by. 

And long because now that people were no longer audibly cursing him, they greeted him with pained smiles and stiff waves in the halls, and he had to nod back at them- not accepting or rejecting it. 

“You don’t have to put up with them,” Wooyoung told him as they left Design together. “You can just ignore them.” 

Hongjoong shrugged, unbothered. “I think it hurts them more that I’m flippant. I’m fine with it.” 

Wooyoung chuckled, knocking shoulders with him. “Wanna come over?” he asked. “My mom might be home early, so you can finally gush over the decor.” He grinned knowingly, and Hongjoong kicked him. 

“I would love to,” he said honestly. “But I’ve got work tonight.” 

“Just for a couple hours, then?” 

“And watch you and Yeosang-” He made a kissy face as he lowered his voice to say it. “No, thanks. And I have to work on my English paper.” 

Wooyoung huffed. “You’re no fun. Whatever- I’ll see you later then.” He gave Hongjoong a two-fingered salute and ran off. 

“Later, loser,” Hongjoong called, earning the attention of a few people passing by- their confusion turning to rage at his level of comfort with Wooyoung and the others. 

He ignored them, starting his walk to his dorm. 

“Mr. Kim.” 

He had barely made it a dozen steps before a deep voice spoke behind him. For a moment, he almost ignored it, thinking it couldn’t be him- but he glanced back curiously. 

Sunglasses stood behind him. His mouth set in that angry line, and his eyes still hidden. 

Hongjoong frowned. “Yes?” Sunglasses had never spoken directly to Hongjoong since that first encounter. 

“Come with me,” he said, gesturing over to the street where Seonghwa’s familiar car was parked. 

Hongjoong frowned. “Um… I can’t hang out with Seonghwa today. We talked about that last night.” 

“It’ll only take a moment of your time,” Sunglasses assured him. “But it is time-sensitive, so your quick cooperation is appreciated.” 

Hongjoong frowned for a moment longer. Was something wrong? “Okay… But I have to be back soon, I have work.” 

Sunglasses made no response, simply walked away. 

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, but walked over, wondering what Seonghwa was planning. They had already discussed the fact that Hongjoong had work and was busy. Not that he didn’t want to hang out. Was he maybe still stressed over whatever was bothering him yesterday? 

Hongjoong’s grip tightened on his bag at the thought of how strained Seonghwa’s expression had been… Maybe he could spare an hour. 

Sunglasses opened the door and Hongjoong got in, the door closing behind him. 

What surprised him was the fact that the car was empty. “Where’s Seonghwa?” Hongjoong asked, sitting down slowly. 

“He’ll be meeting us there,” Sunglasses said, already driving off. 

Hongjoong’s confusion was slowly growing into concern. “Where are we going? Is this some sort of surprise dinner or something?” 

Sunglasses didn’t answer, and Hongjoong huffed, pulling his phone out. Should he text Seonghwa? If it was a surprise, would he even answer? 

They made it to the heart of the city in about eight minutes, Hongjoong still trying to decide whether or not to call Seonghwa. Or maybe the police, as Sunglasses’ silence was being really creepy. 

But why would Seonghwa plan a surprise when Hongjoong had said he couldn’t hang out? 

They stopped at a red light, a line of cars behind them slowing down as well. Hongjoong finally raised his voice. “I really need you to tell me where we’re going,” he said firmly. “I don’t care if Seonghwa wants it to be a surprise, I need-” 

In the rearview mirror, he saw someone get out of a taxi a few cars back, running up the street. 

Instantly, Hongjoong recognized the button up and styled hair, whipping around with wide eyes. “Is that-” 

Seonghwa raced up to the car, his expression set in cold anger as he opened the car door. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snapped- not even looking at Hongjoong as he glared at Sunglasses, his hands reaching over and unbuckling Hongjoong’s seatbelt. 

Sunglasses stared in the rearview mirror. “You gave your father no answer. The appointment was made, and it will be kept. He made specific arrangements-” 

“That doesn’t give him the right to kidnap him!” Seonghwa snapped, grabbing Hongjoong’s hand. “Come on,” he urged, tugging him out of the car insistently. 

“Mr. Kim came willingly,” Sunglasses stated firmly, turning around to glare at them. “And your father will not be pleased with you delaying this meeting.” 

“He gave me until Saturday!” Seonghwa snapped, Hongjoong following his tug blindly, so fucking confused, but trusting Seongwha over Sunglasses anyday. 

“A meeting came up. It has to be tonight.” 

“Well, it’s not my fault he changed plans,” he hissed, glaring. “Tell him we’ll be there if time allows. He’s not allowed to fucking kidnap someone just to fit his schedule!” 

“Mr. Kim came willingly.” 

“You told me Seonghwa was waiting!” Hongjoong snapped as he stumbled out of the car. 

“Mr. Park will also be at the dinner,” Sunglasses said flatly. 

The light changed green, the line of cars beginning to move. 

“Do not be late,” Sunglasses said firmly as Seonghwa slammed the door shut, taking Hongjoong by the arm and guiding them both off of the street to the sidewalk. 

Hongjoong’s heart was pounding as he watched the cars drive off, turning to Seonghwa slowly who dragged an agitated hand through his hair. “What… just happened?” he asked quietly. 

Because it was clear that Seonghwa had nothing to do with this. At least, nothing to do with the whole car-kidnap thing. 

“I’m so sorry,” Seonghwa said quietly, voice heavy with regret. “I- Are you okay?” he demanded lowly, glancing at Hongjoong, desperate eyes flickering around his face and body. 

He nodded quickly. “Yeah,” he assured him. “I was just confused. I didn’t know what was going on.” 

Seonghwa sighed roughly, muttering to himself as he dragged hands over his face. “I’m so fucking sorry- That was completely… despicable . He should have never had that happen-” 

Hongjoong was confused to hell and back, but he caught Seonghwa's hand and pulled it away where it was pressed to his face. “Hey,” he said quietly. “Look- I’m fine. There was nothing traumatizing or anything about it- Seonghwa, look at me, ” he pressed. 

It still… did not feel good… to see Seonghwa this upset. 

Seonghwa stared at him, as if trying to see if he was lying, but eventually breathed out, shaking his head sharply. “It was completely inappropriate. I’m sorry-” 

“How about, instead of apologizing,” Hongjoong coaxed gently, “you tell me what’s going on…” Seonghwa sighed again. “Does it… have to do with what you wanted to tell me last night?” he ventured cautiously. 

Seonghwa paused, staring off for a moment before taking a deep breath and calming himself. After a moment that Hongjoong waited, he glanced down at Hongjoong. “Let’s walk,” he suggested. 

Hongjoong nodded, shouldering his bookbag further as they began a slow stroll down the sidewalk. 

Seonghwa took yet another deep breath, and Hongjoong watched him worriedly for a moment before reaching out and taking Seonghwa’s hand gently, squeezing it. 

Seonghwa’s hand was cool, making Hongjoong’s seen much warmer compared to it. Hongjoong squeezed it again, feeling smooth skin against his. 

He hadn’t even realized the sensation had become familiar. Almost comforting. 

“My father wants to meet you,” Seonghwa said in a rush, not looking at Hongjoong, though his hand clasped back at his tightly. “I tried to hide us in the beginning, but of course it was obvious I was seeing someone. Then I tried to dodge all his questions, and then he told me that he wanted to meet you by the weekend, and I tried to fight him on it. He insisted, and I knew that he was serious- but I didn’t know how to ask you or how you’d react or-” 

Seonghwa took a nervous breath, running a hand through his hair. 

“I never thought that he would just try and… snatch you,” Seonghwa said firmly, looking at Hongjoong pleadingly. “But my father is used to getting things when he wants them, and he’s not very patient. I’m going to speak to him- I’m sorry you got caught up in this because I was stalling.” 

Seonghwa looked like he was waiting for Hongjoong to walk away. 

Seonghwa was apparently always waiting for Hongjoong to walk away. 

But Hongjoong laughed. 

Not big or boisterous, but a genuine show of amusement as he snorted while they walked. Seonghwa’s face fell in utter confusion. 

“And I thought my aunt was bad,” he laughed, grinning at Seonghwa. “I guess you have more room for big stunts when you’re powerful, huh?” He squeezed his hand again, Seonghwa still staring blankly. 

Hongjoong’s lips quirked comfortingly. 

“Stop looking like I’m about to run off because your dad tried to kidnap me,” he said quietly. “It’s a little weird, but I’ve gotten used to that while being around you guys.” 

Seonghwa was still staring, something in his eyes shifting. There was confusion there, but underneath it all was still That Light. 

“My only question is… why did you try and hide it from him?” Hongjoong asked, frowning slightly. “I mean- Were we supposed to be keeping us a secret? I told my mom, but not anyone else-” 

“No!” Seonghwa said quickly, eyes wide. “No- No, Hongjoong, it’s not a secret-” 

No one at school knew, strangely. Seonghwa and Hongjoong didn’t see each other anywhere but in the private lunchroom, and any other time they were seen in public, they weren’t doing anything that would lend the belief they were dating. 

However, while Hongjoong had no one outside of their friends to even mention he was dating to, he knew by the lack of outrage that Seonghwa hadn’t told anyone that he was dating, either. 

Which made complete sense after the photo fiasco. 

Hongjoong didn’t mind that. He knew that the school’s reaction to the scholarship student dating the Number One would be way too much hassle. At least for right now. Maybe later. 

But Hongjoong had told his mom. Why did Seonghwa try and hide it, when he had said his dad was fine with his sexuality? 

“It’s not a secret,” Seonghwa said, stopping their walk to face Hongjoong fully, eyes desperate. “I’m not- I’m not embarrassed or ashamed- You’re not a secret, Hongjoong.” 

“Okay,” Hongjoong said, laughing slightly. “Then why?” He wasn’t offended, he was just curious. 

Seonghwa wet his lips. “My… My parents are very interested in my love life,” he said quietly. “I’ve dated two people in the past, and within hours of me knowing them, my parents wanted to meet them. And they ask all these questions that are a little out of place for an early relationship-” 

Hongjoong could relate to that. His mom usually restrained herself, but she wanted to know all of his boyfriends immediately. 

“They don’t mean to be invasive or insensitive,” Seonghwa assured him. “But, especially for you… I just- I didn’t want… We were both a little unsure in the beginning, so I didn’t want to overwhelm you. And then after that, I just… didn’t know if you’d think it was way too fast to meet my parents-” 

The worries were legitimate. But Hongjoong just smiled. 

Because it twisted something inside of his heart… when he realized just how meticulously Seonghwa tried to make sure that Hongjoong was comfortable, that they weren’t going too fast or crossing any lines. 

And it twisted further the more Hongjoong realized how much no one else had ever done that for him. 

(The back of his mind whispered that Seonghwa saw these assurances as nothing major. But to Hongjoong, they were beginning to mean the world.) 

He squeezed Seonghwa’s hands. “People have crazy parents,” Hongjoong said, shrugging. “It’ll be fine. You’ve met my mom- I’m used to being asked invasive questions.” 

Seonghwa looked relieved, but not very convinced. “He wants to have dinner before 5.” 

Hongjoong glanced at his phone, showing it was a little before 4. And then his stomach dropped. “Oh. I have work,” he said, wincing. “And a paper-” 

Seonghwa chewed his lip for a moment. “More than likely my dad already… freed your schedule.” 

Hongjoong’s eyebrows flew up. “He canceled my shift?” he demanded. 

“He would have found a replacement,” Seonghwa said quickly. “I’m sorry, Hongjoong- I told you, my dad is used to just doing what he wants. Something like this isn’t a big deal to him- I’m sorry.” He winced. “Would… your paper be able to wait until after the dinner? It shouldn’t be late-” 

Okay, so… maybe his dad was a little more crazy than Hongjoong originally intended. 

But apparently what was done was done, so he sighed. “Sure,” he answered lightly. “But you owe me like… a bag of chips or something.” 

Now, Seonghwa looked relieved, a breathless smile taking his lips. “I’ll take you out this weekend, if you have time,” he promised. “I’m really sorry- it would have gone better if I had just asked-” 

Hongjoong shrugged as they kept walking. “It’s fine. But we either need to stop by my apartment or you’re going to have to explain to your dad what I’m wearing.” 

~~~~~~~~

They did not have time to stop by Hongjoong’s dorm. 

And so they took a taxi, and Hongjoong was staring down at his painted jean jacket, ripped black jeans, and tucked t-shirt, wishing Seonghwa would stop doing this to him. He tapped his faded black boots together. 

“You’ll be fine,” Seonghwa told him, smiling quietly. “It’s dinner at home, so it’s casual.” 

“You said the steak restaurant was casual,” Hongjoong reminded him. “Our definitions of it are different.” 

Seonghwa winced. 

Hongjoong sighed, realizing that Seonghwa was a lot more nervous about this than he thought. He reached out, squeezing his hand. 

“It’s fine,” Hongjoong assured him, smiling gently. “I guess your parents just get to see the most basic form of me for the first time.” 

Seonghwa seemed alleviated by the joke, and smiled. “Thank you,” He said earnestly. “For going along with this.” 

Hongjoong just shrugged. Their hands remained intertwined. 

They went out of the city, just to the not-so-crowded outskirts. 

They turned off of a road, and drove through some trees for a while before coming to a large wrought iron gate. 

Hongjoong blinked. “Well, I think yours is quite a bit bigger than Wooyoung’s,” he chuckled. 

Seonghwa smiled. “A fact that Wooyoung will not let me forget.” 

The driveway itself seemed like another road, but while Wooyoung’s yard had been meticulously arranged and detailed and groomed- Seonghwa’s came off as more rustic. 

The mansion they came upon (and it was a mansion ) stood at the top of a gentle hill, and had more windows than Hongjoong through was strictly necessary. 

There were three fountains in the front of it, and what looked like dark marble steps leading up to double doors. 

Hongjoong had never been more underdressed in his life , but reminded himself that it was just Seonghwa’s parents. He’d have met them anyway. 

And if they couldn’t accept him like this, they probably couldn’t accept him any way with their son- 

As his boyfriend. 

Hongjoong’s stomach lurched with nerves sickeningly, but he shoved them down. It would be fine. 

Thankfully, Seonghwa’s hand never left his as they got out the taxi, walking up the steps slowly. Hongjoong craned his head up to look. “It’s pretty,” he murmured as they reached the doors. 

Seonghwa chuckled as he opened them, leading Hongjoong in. 

Tha place was decoarted like a fucking movie. Gentle, warm lighting, a chandelier in the entrance hall, a huge staircase, carpets that looked antique and expensive, and regal artwork that probably cost just as much as the house did. 

“Holy shit,” he muttered as Seonghwa laughed again before falling quiet. 

“Listen, Hongjoong,” He said quietly, staring at him earnestly. “Just- When we’re there, understand- I mean, my parents can be- They aren’t used to- to-” 

A door to the side opened and a somber man in a suit stood there. “Your father is waiting,” he said formally. “He’d like me to bring you both directly to him.” 

“Just a moment,” Seonghwa tried to excuse- 

“His flight has been moved to earlier tonight,” the man said firmly. “Dinner is ready.” 

Hongjoong glanced at his phone. It was just at 4:50. “We shouldn’t keep him waiting?” he said, trying to smile to cheer Seonghwa up. 

Seonghwa stared for a distraught moment before smiling quietly. “Okay,” he agreed, taking Hongjoong’s hand boldly and leading him towards the open door. 

The dining room was smaller than the entrance hall, but just as glamorously decorated. Hongjoong noticed that a lot of styles and paintings were actually French… 

Oh, right, an ambassador. 

What he didn’t expect was for a man and woman to already be seated at a table, waiting. Hongjoong swallowed, but tried to appear friendly rather than terrified. 

The man stood- dressed in a formal burgundy suit with meticulously styled hair. Hongjoong could see Seonghwa in the man’s nose and eyes. 

Perhaps the most startling thing about him was the broad smile on his lips. 

“Welcome!” he called as they entered, the woman standing in a beautiful blue dress that made Hongjoong want to demand the name of the stylist who made it. 

She smiled graciously. Hongjoong could see Seonghwa in her face and smile. “It’s such a pleasure to meet the boy Seonghwa’s been so infatuated with,” she said through barely contained, regal excitement. 

She came around the table, arms outstretched like he was going to give a hug. However, as she approached, she simply took both of Hongjoong’s hands in smooth, delicate ones, squeezing graciously. 

“Oh, look at you!” she said, smiling brightly. “When he said you were cute, I didn’t think he meant perfect!” 

Hongjoong flushed slightly under the praise, but more importantly over the fact that Seonghwa had told his parents he thought Hongjoong was cute. 

Hongjoong felt like he had been slapped, though. 

With how Seonghwa had been acting, Hongjoong was expecting somber, traditionalist parents who never smiled and demanded more time and effort from their son than he wanted to give. 

He pictured disapproving stares and silent dinners where the awkwardness was only broken by silverware noises. 

Not a woman dragging him excitedly over to the table and insisting that he sit and join them. Not the man shaking his hand firmly, saying with a gracious smile that it was a pleasure to finally meet him. 

Hongjoong sat at a table more formal than he had ever sat at, and Seonghwa sat across from him- his parents sitting on either head of the table. It was large- meant for about six people to sit at. 

“We’re sorry for the small setting,” his mother said regretfully. “But the large dining room makes it so hard to converse without yelling. And we thought this might be more comfortable for you.” 

Oh, so this was the small one? 

He wanted to laugh. Rich people. 

Hongjoong bit back a smile as he looked at Seonghwa. Seonghwa smiled back, but Hongjoong could still see apprehension in his eyes.