Actions

Work Header

City of Dreams

Summary:

It’s a story of the captivating life of the chaotic, glamorous and carefree broke artists of Seoul. Seven friends meeting the newcomer from Jinju as they show him the life of independence, love and friendship. It follows Park Seonghwa’s journey as he discovers the life occupied by beautiful things: glamour, fashion, parties, art, music, sex and men away from his polished sheltered life. So beautiful it could be dangerous. And he was enamored by the most beautiful, most dangerous of all, love. But he wanted the love from the city’s ultimate charmer who lived a carefree lonely life, incapable of giving the very thing he wanted… but only because Kim Hongjoong himself showed a glimpse of him wanting the same.

Notes:

WELCOME!

This is my very first story :) And I'm actually quite excited by this. I hope you enjoy the characters and the story as much as I did writing.

Just in case it may seem familiar, this story is loosely based on City of Girls by Elizabeth Gilbert and Breakfast at Tiffany's by Truman Capote (yes, the book not the movie). Mashed together to create, hopefully, a captivating story of young men navigating life of love and friendship and all the craziness that goes with it.

I will start this series with two chapters: The Prologue and Chapter 1. I thought maybe it's a good start to have both. I have no regular schedule of posting as I am quite busy with other projects. However, by doing this now I thought maybe, this will push me to finish something I started.

So without further ado, I give you... City of Dreams.

 

IG: @a.mat__z

Chapter 1: Prologue - July 2, 2044

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

It would have been a typical day for me today had it not been for you surprising us with your very existence. The early summer sun woke me up as usual, and like everyday for as long as I can remember, I head out to Aurora cafe for breakfast. Minjun hyung, the cafe owner, unlocks its doors for me ten minutes before its promised opening hour. With my pen and notebook, I sit at my usual corner to empty out my thoughts. I still like it this way, you know. There’s still something so fulfilling with ink permanently staining the paper in precise shapes regardless of how much digital has truly taken over more than it did in my youth. Minjun hyung places my usual coffee next to me - he already knows I am grateful without me saying so. Today, I did not ask for pastry. Just a slice of bread and butter that only I have the luxury to enjoy as it is not in the offered menu.

But all of that were fairly normal. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except you. Sure, Aurora had a slow start than its usual bustling morning but it happens. Just one of those days, I guess.

I have not realized the morning dew turned into early afternoon heat. I am so deep in my writing that I have not heard the door opening shyly. I am so used to the door opening, anyway, that you coming in is nothing new. The only time I lifted my head away from my notes and stop scribbling is when you spoke. Your voice. It sounded so familiar, yet so different. Minjun Hyung, hearing exactly what I hear, isn’t really sure how to take you in as well.

“I’m looking for Park Seonghwa. I learned he always go here.” Shy but firm. Desperation evident. Like you want a positive response. “Please.” You add. Polite, but again with that desperate tone. “I need to meet him.”

“I’m not sure why you want to meet Seonghwa, but he barely comes here nowadays,” Minjun hyung responds finally. It’s a lie. Park Seonghwa still comes here. Not as much as I do, but he never forgets this place. No matter how much the fashion industry now grovel at his feet. But we had a fair share of experiences with crazy fans. They would try to get in touch with Seonghwa - some were pretty aggressive. One time, we found someone had placed a GPS in Seonghwa’s car, his management had to sue. To protect Seonghwa, Minjun hyung manages a little lie to keep his common whereabouts unknown. But I can see how much he’s resisting to say otherwise. The questions he’s thinking, but unable to articulate.

I am curious now. I look at you and the way you stand, your back towards me. You lift the inner sides of your feet as you stand there nervously. So familiar, yet so different, just like your voice. My eyebrows raise in wonder when Minjun hyung meets my eyes.

“Who’s looking for Park Seonghwa?” You turn towards me when you realize I had asked the question.

The world froze when I lock eyes with you. Suddenly the calming cafe music is silent in my ears. The heat of summer slightly chilled, the hairs on my arm rising up. Those eyes. I know those eyes so well. It is his eyes. Familiar, yet different. So much about you is familiar but different. Like you are him but not. If your wrinkle-free face isn’t enough already, the innocence in your eyes tells me you are not him. It is nothing like ours in our youth. Nothing like his empty black ones. Yours still hold a bit of light. There was longing but it isn’t empty.

You see, before today, Minjun hyung and I wouldn’t even think you would ever exist. So excuse us if we couldn’t control our eyes from widening in disbelief. The hinges of our jaws unlocking causing it to fall open in awe.

“Uhmm…” you utter unsure if you should answer me.

“I know Park Seonghwa,” I say to you reassuringly and the world moves again like normal. I watch as your eyes brighten slightly and you sighed a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “But first I need to know who you are and why you’re looking for Park Seonghwa.” I really want to know. I need to know how you look so much like him. Where is he now? How is he now?

“Oh. Of course,” you start by bowing towards me unsure why we’re so protective of Seonghwa but you kept going anyway. “I need to ask him questions. My mother, she just… well, she’s gone. But all my life… I mean.. I… never mind that. I wanted to know who Park Seonghwa is to my appa.” You are stuttering unsure really why strangers like us are looking at you still in disbelief. “You see, appa was always there but not at the same time. Always deep in his thoughts. He always carries this with him. I thought it was a journal, but it wasn’t. I suppose it is but it was more like his memories by the looks of it. I was jealous of it. I don’t know. It’s a bit silly but he loves that more than I no matter how much he denies it.”

You fumble through your old and worn messenger bag as if there’s so much stuff in it. Its colour was once olive green but has now been stained darker at every inch of it. There are tears in places where pins must have adorned it previously. Some are still on it too. I see one that look familiar: a midsize circle pin, a yellow smiley face on it, its mouth is scratched with dark ink scribbles. He hated that smiley face. The way you turn your whole torso towards your bag making you a little off balance is just like him too. You were so nervous it took you a while to retrieve a brown leather journal. Pieces of loose paper inserted between yellowing pages, an elastic stretched across its body holding it together. His favourite little orange animal charm still holds tightly by its chain where a pen would normally be tucked in.

It’s thicker now than when I last saw it about 20 years ago. What once was thick, strong leather has now wilted and softened. Scratches adorned the once pristine hard fabric. I can easily picture what you must have seen your whole life. Him crouched down sketching in those very pages lost in his own creative world. You handed the journal to me and I held it with so much care like it’s a fragile young child.

“You know my appa, don’t you?” You ask when you saw me smile at the memories that seem to have escaped the pages when I opened the journal. Long sharp confident strokes of male and female figures in his signature style in every page. There are notes written on spaces untouched by the illustrations. Notes like colour ideas, what sort of seams to use, fabric suggestions with multiple question marks next to them. Some pages have fraying fabric samples stapled onto them. Some pages are nothing but unfinished sketches. But then the deeper I look through his creative mind, the fashion illustrations stopped. The rest of the pages was Park Seonghwa at every angle. Seonghwa smiling, Seonghwa looking away, Seonghwa sleeping, Seonghwa’s back. Seonghwa’s signature deep stare only your appa could recreate perfectly on ink. Him sitting. Him lying. Him clothed. Him naked. Every page, every loose paper. It was him.

There is something else in it too. A glossy photo print of Park Seonghwa lying down with his back arched, his long limbs at the top of his head crossed at the wrist. His eyebrows scrunched closer together, his eyes closed, his mouth open like he was being satisfied. He was only wearing the silver threaded brocade pants your appa had designed for him. It was open at the waist. In fact, there was no closure of any kind. The way he had his torso stretched pulled the pants lower revealing the sharp v line of his lower abs, suggesting only skin underneath. So many versions of this had been published back in 2024 but this was the only copy of this very photograph ever printed.

“I think you already know who Park Seonghwa is to your appa. His pages show it very clearly.” We are now sitting down at my corner seat of the cafe, Minjun Hyung walking towards us to join in. You see, I had never intended to tell the story of our youth. To us, it was so ordinary. But as I look through these pages once again and the memories overwhelmed my mind, I realize just how wild life was back then, hardships included. I remember the clubs we went, the smokes we puffed, the heartaches we carried, the kisses we tasted.

Who was Park Seonghwa to Kim Hongjoong?

But the real question is, who was Park Seonghwa to all of us?

 

Notes:

*hides face*

I hope that hooked you to keep reading.
See you in Chapter 1

IG: @a.mat__z

Chapter 2: Seoul

Summary:

Park Seonghwa arrived in Seoul with a duffle bag and a determination to never go back. For the first time in his life, he was free, hungry and homeless. But the bustling chaotic and noisy capital city was as real as the smell of red spicy rice cake goodness he had as his first meal of his new life. Not like the life he was forced to live. Will he survive...?

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Park Seonghwa was no one special. At least, he thought he was no one special. Not when his life had never been his. The crowded bus terminal made him realize just how insignificant his life really was the more people around him looked elsewhere. Food vendors were too busy serving their hungry customers, janitors bent down picking up litters, travellers were more occupied by the time on their wrists, phones or walls with their large bags between their hands. There was nothing in this bus terminal show any sign of interest in how his hair was slightly unruly, or how the bags under his eyes were heavy, red and puffy from the angry tears he shed earlier. Nobody cared if his socks were mismatched under his overly worn canvas shoes or that his jacket was too thin in this early spring breeze.

The doors to the exit came closer with his every step. He tossed the life he didn’t want behind the closing doors of the bus terminal he had no intention of going back to. Jogging down the front stairs of the terminal, he finally made it on the streets of Seoul three hours away from the life he couldn’t wait to leave behind.

He left his hometown early afternoon that day without any sort of plan. He knew not a single soul in the packed capital. No prior knowledge as to where to go, which was unusual for him who prefers to have everything mapped out from where to go down to the list of things he’d brought with him. This trip was nothing like that, if he could even call it a trip. His black duffle bag was filled with, hopefully, enough of the essentials to get him by the next few days until he figured out how to, well, survive. This spontaneity was so unusual it jacked up his nerves, but, honestly, he didn’t care. He needed to do this. He took a deep breath. His fingers clenched even tighter (if it still even possible) at the strap that swung across his long skinny torso. He took the first steps of what would become the rest of his life in Seoul.

The capital city was so different from his hometown, Jinju, a city in the south of the country. What was a serene and spacious city, the capital gave loud and compact. He could hear ahjussis from around the corner screaming at each other not wanting to lose the verbal fight about who parked wrongly and who did the recycling stupidly. Cars hummed violently in the thick of traffic. Music blaring from somewhere Seonghwa couldn’t find the source. Sirens filled the air from far away streets. A helicopter propelled above the busy city. People on their phones expertly walked past Seonghwa, not a single shoulder hitting him. In Seoul, there was a gloom that surrounded the dense space as tall buildings darted the clouds, very unlike the bright blue skies coloring the heavens of Jinju. Or maybe it was smoke, Seonghwa wasn’t sure. The buildings were high and modern, clad with glass windows and metal signs. Everything about Seoul was the opposite of his perspective of Jinju.

It wasn’t like Jinju was devoid of modern buildings and busy people. In fact, it was sprinkled with so many new luxurious apartments and high end companies. But the city held so many of South Korea’s preserved beauty boasting traditional houses, pavilions and palaces that would still sit proudly against well-kept nature. Mountain backed houses with gardens completed the picture perfect city. Bright lights would lit the city up in the early dark winter days during its annual lantern festival that its proud residents and welcomed visitors looked forward to. Jinju’s clean and tamed rivers would be decked with floating lanterns of all sorts of designs. Beautiful wouldn’t even begin to describe the city. It looked flawless.

No. I am not going back, Seonghwa declared to himself. Nothing about the overwhelming sights and sounds of the capital city stopped Seonghwa from walking farther away from that life. There was realness to the mess of Seoul that Seonghwa would much rather have.

Because, just like Jinju, his life was polished with tradition and perfection. He managed to stay looking and acting perfect best he could just as it was mapped out for him all his life. All throughout high school, he’d come home with a report card donned with letters and numbers that put him near the top of the class. He could do better, his family would have preferred. He went through college admissions test with ease that earned him a spot at the city’s prestigious university. Outside of school activities, Seonghwa was volunteered to participate in every festival and events in the city without much of a protest. At least not one he could say out loud around the people he seemed to be trusting a lot with his life.

But just like the southern city, Seonghwa was far from perfect. His parents never failed to remind him he had to be just like them: specialist doctors who will climb up the hierarchy ladder for the rest of his life, settled with a wife bearing the next generation of doctors. His older brother had the same expectations posed upon him, but unlike Seonghwa, he devoured those expectations and lived it. Seonghwa, however, found himself the total opposite of those expectations. He never really liked to study, which would be difficult if one had to study medicine. Even in high school, he hated it. But it was his only way to get less attention to himself from anyone around him. Being one of the sons in his family was hard enough to disappear. He figured he could bury himself in textbooks in order to survive the hometown he barely called home. With lesser eyes on him, less chances of people discovering his not-so-perfect life.

He never really found his place in the city. All the kids in his high school seemed to have found their places: guys in the soccer team; pretty girls who think they’re it just because they held daddy’s credit card; extremely smart kids who fought for first place like their life depended on it; a number of misfits who seem to share the common experience of coming home with bruises and stained uniforms. It was either be a bully or be bullied. There was no safe in between. Even university was not any different at all. The same kids but with more money and more time to be exactly the same.

Seonghwa managed to stay away from trouble being civil with the it crowd. It helped being born in his family, who were pretty much everyone’s medical expert. Everyone knew Seonghwa, and Seonghwa knew everyone. Their secrets. Their stories. He heard the way every family had their own unfair judgement on someone else’s life. His family included. Mistakes were never unseen by the prying eyes of gossipers who will pass on their own versions of the stories. The city would have heard different versions of one story, yet no one would believe the people actually involved. One mistake would have been the biggest issue that would go on for weeks until the next mistake to gossip about. Seonghwa did not like that. It was too suffocating. Especially since he lived a truth deep in his core that was far from the perfect son everyone expected him to be.

If he had control over his life, he would much rather be occupied by beautiful things. He was fascinated by glamour, by fashion, by art, by music, by sexy, by sex, by men. So beautiful it could be dangerous. All of which were privileged to the elite women of Jinju. His mother, one of the privileged, would walk the halls of their house in stiletto heels, hair in perfect curls, wearing pastel coloured designer suit sets, mirrored by the rest of the high society women. Men, on the other hand, in charcoal suits and black dress shoes, hair held sleek with glossy gel. The most affection displayed amongst couples were a single kiss on the lips. Anything beyond that stays behind bedroom doors. Seonghwa found this perfected beauty of Jinju wasted and unable to enjoy it. Seonghwa craved a dangerous kind of beauty, one that would make anyone go crazy at first taste.

There was a time in high school where Seonghwa impulsively skipped a day in school almost expertly that no one wondered where he was. He found himself wandering far away from the institution in a more industrial area where he knew no one would recognize him. He stumbled upon a silk factory. Jinju was known for silk. They even export silk. He was so enamored by the soft fabric in different colors and patterns. He especially adored the thinner ones, so thin anyone could see beyond the weaves of the fabric. Those were his favourites. Those and the ones woven with silver metal thread that sparkles when showered with light. He would run his fingers through the delicate fabric so lightly like he was afraid he would tear it under his soft fingers. The hum of the machines that spun strong webs into threads was music to his ears. He’d watch as machines dance in perfect rhythm that make up the weaves of the final fabric. Some of it would be sent out to bathe in colour. Some, already woven in its final design, would be tucked in rolls ready to be shipped out to its new home.

He would spend many random afternoons visiting the silk factories instead of attending academies since. It had been almost frequent that the academy noticed he hadn’t attended any of his classes. The vast city was too small for Seonghwa, it did not take long enough for his parents to find out he’s been making friends with factory workers, whose lives Seonghwa found quite adventurous. All the years he stayed out of trouble, this was all it took for his parents to criticize him like he’s done something criminal. He was banned from going to the low life neighbourhood, his perfect parents called it. So back to the boring life Seonghwa went.

But his interests was piqued. He could no longer return to pretending he was perfect. He was hungry to taste adventure, to feel excitement, to get drunk in both alcohol and kisses. His friends from the factory was never shy to talk about any kinds of topic and he took them all in. From the the morning coffee they spilled, to the heaviest political debate they’d almost killed each other for, to giving each other advice on relationships, but most especially, their sex lives. Seonghwa knew about sex from the education he’d received from school. The boring kind. The ones that warned students of the consequences of having sex before settling down. He learned more than that through the fascinating stories his friends from the factories were never shy to share.

Suddenly, he was suffocating in the city that had no room for his unconventional interests with no one to share it with. Not when he was being watched by his parents in many ways he knew they could. The one time he opened up about alcohol and sex with a childhood friend, his only response was to poke fun at Seonghwa. He was afraid his friend mentioned this jokingly to his parents who could have then alerted Seonghwa’s parents. He got lucky. He never opened the topic to anyone ever again. He tried to stay the same perfect Seonghwa all throughout the rest of high school and university. But the longer he tried to become someone designed for him, the more he lost the self he barely even met.

Seonghwa felt chills slowly crawling up his spine wrapping tightly around his throat as days dragged on. He was beginning to fail at every subject because he could no longer focus. There were itches he couldn’t scratch, and before he knew it, he was at the dean’s office with his parents being warned of his failing grades. His parents blamed the influences of the uneducated factory workers as they would brutally call them. He snapped. He could take the criticism towards him, like he did his whole life, but he didn’t want to be in the same space with people who verbally bully others from behind, even if it were his family. The longer he looked at the future designed for him, he got scared shit. He finally told his parents he never wanted the life they laid out for him, he wanted something else. Unsympathetically, his parents only gave him two options: to continue as planned or leave disowned.

So three hours later, Seonghwa wandered somewhere in the middle of the capital city with nothing but a past he was willing to forget and a duffle bag. Seoul was his ticket out of his mundane life in Jinju. The longer he walked, the farther he walked away from that life. His adventure begun.

But the adventure needed to halt. He felt his stomach violently telling him he had not eaten for hours. He went to the nearest ATM to take out as much cash as he could before his parents cut him off. But of course, perfectly timed, the machine told him he no longer had access to any account his family had set up for him. Shit, he cursed at himself for not doing it at the Jinju terminal before heading to the capital. Luckily, he had a savings account he had opened when he turned eighteen. He always knew we wanted to earn his own money, and by having an account unconnected to his parents, he felt like he had some sort of control left in him. It wasn’t a lot, but it will get him by the next few weeks, hopefully a month. He threw the cards that connected him to his family, and took some cash out from his own account.

Just at the foot of the building where he took his money out were street food vendors. The smell of sweet and spicy rice cake filled his nose. Its indulgent red coating glistened. He asked for one, and then another and finished his meal with a skewer of fish cake and its soup. He stood by the corner of the building taking his time to finish off his fish cake soup when he heard screaming from one of the doors in the alleyway. He looked up around him, no one bat an eye towards where he heard the scream. It’s like they were immune to the noise of the city that the screaming was as normal as the sun shining in the morning.

He followed the noise, opened the unhinged door and found himself in a small space where a play was taking place. The screaming was only part of the drama that was happening at the main stage. There were about five characters, two of them at the center who seemed to be in a deep emotional journey. One male, one female. Seonghwa could tell the theater was makeshift even through shadows of the room. The chairs were stackable plastic which were placed in an uneven line as if something had arranged them in darkness. The ceiling had holes in them from what looked like an abandoned repair job. The room was dusty, he could see the particles through the one spotlight that illuminated the main characters. They had a number of audiences less than his fingers. There was one whose head was resting on the back of the chair clearly dozed off into sleep. Others were swiping or typing on their phones. Some tried to understand what was happening on the stage. Seonghwa tried to watch as well, but he was more concerned at the fact he was able to easily slip through the doors without anyone demanding for his ticket. He was so used to the traditional performances back in Jinju, everything was ticketed. He knew, because he was volunteered to handle tickets many times than he could remember.

The lights of the whole room went on a few moments later and the audience started standing up just as the actors were bowing down. The person sleeping was the only one who clapped trying to pretend he was awake the whole time. Seonghwa on the other hand stayed seated lost in his thought unaware that everything had ended and the makeshift theater was being emptied. He was too tired, and he still had no idea where to stay that night.

“Hey man, we’re closing doors soon, you might want to get up,” a young man, about Seonghwa’s age, took him out of his trance. Seonghwa blinked back into reality and met the soft but tired eyes of the man who Seonghwa recognized as the main actor of the play. He was tall, much taller than Seonghwa, who did not lack in height at all. He had plump cheeks and soft cherry lips. Seonghwa couldn’t tell if it was his real lips or if it was painted with makeup. His soft brown hair brushed against his lashes. The young man offered Seonghwa a warm smile.

“Oh sorry,” Seonghwa said and stood up. “You were great, by the way.”

The man laughed. “You don’t have to pretend you actually watched. It’s okay. It’s always like this for us.”

“But I’m not pretending,” Seonghwa didn’t lie. He was fascinated by the young actor’s display of emotion. He acted like he moved thousands of audiences with the way he used his body and his eyes to speak more emotions than the awkward writing he was delivering. He was truly enamored by the actor’s talent, until he got distracted by reality. “I really did enjoy the way you acted.”

“Whatever you say. Thanks. But we’re now closing for the night and I can’t have you stay here.” The young man said.

“Of course.” Seonghwa stood up and followed the young man out of the theater and into the dark night that was brightly lit by all sorts of lights. How long was Seonghwa in there? Now he’s truly unsure what to do.

“Have a goodnight,” the young man called out as soon as he locked the doors and began walking.

“Wait,” Seonghwa hesitated. He tried to hide the desperation in his voice but he failed. He’s just way too lost with no plan and he’s starting to panic a little. The man stopped and turned towards Seonghwa. “Sorry, but I’m new to the city. I literally just arrived today and I have no idea where to go. I know no one in the city. My parents just cut me off. I walked all day since I arrived. That’s how I found your theater. You were the first I’d spoken to all day. I just needed a place to stay until I can recuperate again.”

“There’s a spa house just down the street when you turn right,” the young man said as if this was a normal encounter for him. “I’m heading that way so I can show you.”

“Oh, uhm. Thanks,” Seonghwa uttered. He had never been to one of those places. He heard about them from his friends at the factory but never once had he stepped foot inside one. They walked together in silence. Seonghwa clutching at his bag’s strap, his nerves were on high.

The young man stopped and pointed at the entrance of the spa house. “Good luck,” he shared. Seonghwa turned after giving the young man a smile of gratitude then took a deep breath before pushing the door open to the public space. A few minutes later, he found the young man grabbing a bite of his fish cake skewer. He lifted an eyebrow silently asking why Seonghwa was out so quick.

Like he heard him ask, Seonghwa explained simply, “they were full”.

“I was worried about that,” the young man said through the hisses he made when hot liquid made contact with his tongue. “It’s usually like this at this time of the year.”

“Know any other places?” Seonghwa was desperate.

“Yes, but it’s too far from here. Have you got cash with you?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I really don’t have time nor the energy to show you the city and where the other spa houses are. We have an extra room, you can stay in for the night until you can figure out your next step.” The young man said nonchalantly. Seonghwa was surprised at his hospitality in such a strange city. How did he know Seonghwa could be trusted? How would he know to trust this young man? Honestly, Seonghwa was too tired and tensed to care. If he was out there being kidnapped, Seonghwa could care less. He had nothing anyway.

“We’ll just need to catch a bus,” the young man walked to a crowded bus stop not too far from where they were. “It’ll be about thirty minutes to get there. Hopefully the traffic has slowed down now so we won’t be stuck in it.”

Seonghwa followed just as their bus was pulling over. He fiddled with the cash in his wallet and put the exact change into the payment box. “Hey, I truly appreciate this,” Seonghwa said when he sat next to the very first person he met in Seoul.

“That’s fine. We have quite a packed house, but there’s a room to spare for tonight.” The young man sighed as he sank in his seat.

“I’m Yunho, by the way,” the young man offered his hand to shake after a few moments of silence.

“Seonghwa,” he took his hand in silent trust feeling his shoulders relax as they both sat in silence for the rest of the ride.

Notes:

That's it. You have now entered the world of Park Seonghwa, the run away from Jinju. This is just the introductory chapter so I hope it wasn't too meh. I tried to make it as visual as I possibly could with words.

Hope you enjoyed it <3 We'll meet more characters in the coming chapters.

IG: @a.mat__z

Chapter 3: Full House

Summary:

Safe and sheltered in a house Seonghwa was not expecting, especially since it was way different from the pristine, well-made house he never once called home.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Seonghwa followed Yunho through an uphill maze of tight alleyways. He would turn onto streets that seemed like a dead end only for him to turn onto another. Small streets made even smaller by parked cars, littered with today’s rubbish for tomorrow’s pick up. Houses and buildings nestled right next to each other’s spaces with no particular design. At the last turn, finally, Seonghwa was expecting Yunho to take him into a smaller place or an apartment building. But Yunho reached out to an unlocked gate of a typical two-storey Korean brick house with a small rooftop house. A set of stairs at the side that lead straight to the space on the rooftop, tinted sliding windows and a tight space to park a car. Although seeing the size of the streets, Seonghwa wasn’t sure what car would fit in these roads. The house had a fairly decent size. It wasn’t huge, and it wasn’t fancy either. But it was plenty for Seonghwa, who for the first time in his life, was homeless.

The house definitely looked like its heyday had gone past. The stairs and brick walls had been stained by tears of rain, darkened at its creases. The paint job of the solid gate was chipping in various places. The garage space became a multi space, mostly storage of old tools, outdoor equipments and boxes. Yunho reached out to a wooden door hemmed with darker stains, its exterior scratched and splattered with dried up wet dust. He turned the knob without a key and opened the door. Seonghwa was expecting the inside to be lit with bright fluorescent lighting like most houses he’s been in. Instead, he was welcomed by soft moody lighting from the mismatched lamps in the living room. In fact, the room looked quite misty from lingering smoke, to which Seonghwa adjusted his eyes to. Local pop music with Latin beats blared throughout the whole space. *Arriba!*

The living room looked cozy and comforting even in its disheveled unkept state. A huge book shelf ran the entirety of one wall that was really designed to hold a television set but instead held random knickknacks. Displayed or forgotten, Seonghwa couldn’t really tell. Books, magazines, paintings, painting tools, polaroids, sculptures, all placed without much thought or order to it but somehow it looked like it belonged there. The floor was dressed with a rug that was once colourful now darkened by stains and dust unwashed for no one knows how long. On it were a number of patterned cushion seats, mismatched chairs, and a small wooden coffee table with black metal feet. Bowls forgotten with unfinished meal next to empty beer bottles and a lighter. At the back end of the room was a rather large kitchen, yellow cabinets lined the entirety of the top wall above the counter. There was a table that had more random stuff on it that had nothing to do with eating at all. The walls were kept bare except for a clock that had stopped telling time. It felt, Seonghwa realized, homey compared to the perfectly pristine well kept house he used to navigate around in growing up.

At the middle of the open plan was a large leather couch that must had seen much better days. It was brown and tufted at the back rest, scratched, bruised and torn in different places. It looked like it could tell more stories than Seonghwa could about his life. Just by witnessing what seemed to be a passionate display of lust and affection between three young men happening on it right there. If the couch could talk, it could tell more tales of bonds, drunken antics and lust similar—or possibly even more—to what was happening there right now.

The exchange was wild and hot as two well-toned guys locked another one in kisses. The guy in a white tank top, his short hair under a baseball cap, was practically grinding on top of the guy accepting the wet passion from his lips. His broad shoulders were exposed under the thin white stretchy fabric and were not left unexplored by his kissing partner’s wandering hands, whose sharp jawline was lifted to follow the kisses. It exposed the side of his neck for the other guy to nibble onto. This one had straight hair and fuller cheeks, quite the opposite of the favoured one's black wavy hair and sunken cheeks. His hands caress the side of the middle guy’s neck his mouth couldn’t explore. It would linger there for a bit before sliding onto the favoured's chest.

An intake of breath broke the kiss to which the favoured had switch lips to the guy nibbling at his neck. He pulled him by the chin and gave him just as wet and as passionate a kiss as the he did the other guy. The guy in the white tank hurriedly pressed his lips on the favoured’s neck and slid his hands around his tiny bare waist. Their eyes closed savouring the taste of each other. Seonghwa wanted to look down unsure if a stranger like him was welcome to be around, let alone watch, such an intimate exchange. Seonghwa was enamoured, though. He couldn’t stop himself from looking. If he was aware of himself he would have closed his slightly parted lips to avoid the shock etched on his face.

Seonghwa was unsure if he should go in further. He stood at the entrance as Yunho walked in unfazed by what was happening in the living room like it’s normal to walk in on them. It probably was, as there was lack of hesitation to break apart from their exchange. Seonghwa did not doubt that the sensual activity was normal in this house.

“Yoah, guys,” Yunho walked towards the kitchen turning the lights on and grabbing a glass of tap water. Someone from the far end of the hall was coming out of a room and approaching Yunho. Seonghwa tried to make out as much of his facial features under the hood of his jersey without much luck. “We have company.”

That perked up the guy in the middle, his wavy black hair now disheveled from the broad-shouldered guy’s clawing hands. His eyes shot open while in the middle of the kiss and caught Seonghwa’s eyes like he knew exactly where he was standing. Seonghwa blushed and shifted trying to find something else to look at. That made the middle guy smile through the kiss. He started pulling away from the other two, who were following him with their mouths squeezing himself through whatever space he could push through. Finally, he jumped off the couch, leaving the other two to fill the empty space he left, without much of a glance towards Seonghwa. One of them held the other’s face and the other pulled their partner at the waist and they began kissing each other roughly.

The pretty boy straightened his tight crop top and fixed his pants at the waist as he approached Seonghwa. Using his thumbs, he wiped his wet lips. He combed his hair to reset its long fringes down the side of his face. The apples of his sunken cheeks were blushing in heat. The curves of his toned arms and the lines of his abs peeked through his crop top. Dark round eyes glistened through the shadows of the fringes framing his face. His smile was huge and contagious Seonghwa couldn’t help but shyly smile back at the pretty man who was now pulling him in deeper into the living room.

“Holy shit you’re a pretty one aren’t you,” the man said with eyes sparkling as he came closer to Seonghwa. “Don’t be shy! Shit, man, you really are fucking beautiful!”

Seonghwa wasn’t sure about that. Although he never thought of himself lacking in looks at all, he wasn’t confident with his features either. He always thought his face was too round for his skinny frame, his black hair was too ordinary and his brows were too thick. His lips were darker and his skin was tanned, something his mother had always pointed out. Smiling wide was something he had always been too conscious of, insecure of the teeth perfected through dental braces, a reminder of his hidden imperfections. Although, he always heard his mother’s friends talk about how he’s growing up to be a dashing young man, none of his peers had shown any sort of interest towards him. None that he was aware of anyway. Behind his back, guys want to be him and girls would swoon over him. Their lack of approach was not really because they thought he lacked. No. It was because from such a young age, everyone who knew Seonghwa knew he was destined for one girl in the high society circle. Anyone who didn’t was warned before they could even approach him.

He stayed silent, unsure really what to say or do in this situation.

“Come a long way?” The man’s high pitched voice broke the silence. He removed his grip from Seonghwa then plopped down on one of the floor cushion. Seonghwa didn’t notice there was a contraption made of plastic on the floor until he took it out, its round base was filled with water. Wooyoung placed his mouth at the top opening and with the lighter on the table, lit a small bowl sitting on its stem. The water began to heat and smoke filled its long chamber. Wooyoung inhaled the smoke in and released it out towards the living room.

“Jinju,” Seonghwa stayed standing while watching the wild child took a hit.

“Oh. That sucks,” the wild child said through another exhale and placed the contraption down after Seonghwa declined his invitation to take a hit. “I’ve never been but know someone from there. It didn’t sound fun.” Seonghwa smiled at that agreeing with whoever introduced Jinju to this young man. “I’m Wooyoung.”

“Seonghwa,” he offered.

“We don’t really care about age or politeness in here,” Wooyoung stated. “If that’s your thing either unlearn it or deal with it.”

“I don’t mind,” Seonghwa said. He really didn’t. He never really liked it anyway. It was another way the adults instilled control upon his life.

“Oh good,” Yunho said from across the room now having a bowl of bibimbap. The other guy had his chin now settled on Yunho’s shoulders. With the light from the kitchen, Seonghwa could now make out his platinum blonde hair, sunken eyes, and full plump lips. He tried to catch his eyes and smile, but he was already moving to nuzzle his tired eyes against the crook of Yunho’s neck. “Some of us still do it out of habit, but it’s not how we are in this house. Wooyoung especially hates it. This is Mingi, by the way,” but the other guy didn’t look up.

“Despise it,” Wooyoung corrected Yunho as he crossed his legs over the other with so much sass. “You can sit, ya’know. That’s San and Yeosang,” his head bobbed towards the two who were only just stopping their lustful exchange. San, the broad-shouldered guy, smiled through his flushed face, his dimpled cheeks pushing his small eyes into warm, happy slits. He started standing up to fix his white top. His waist was so tiny it fully emphasized his long shoulders. He offered his strong hands out to Seonghwa for a hand shake, which he took. Meanwhile the guy with straight hair, Yeosang, sprawled onto the couch’s back rest catching his breath his well-toned arms and abs out on full display through his tight black top. San now offered his hands towards Yeosang to lift him up from the seat.

Seonghwa inaudible gasped when he locked eyes with Yeosang, finally seeing his face. His eyes were soft but deep. His lips were perfectly rosy, maybe from too much kissing, but Seonghwa could tell it’s just as naturally plump. He was so beautiful, an angelic face and a glamorous aura. Seonghwa felt intimidated when Yeosang stood up so gracefully taking San’s help. Yeosang said nothing, but his acknowledging small smile intimidated Seonghwa even more.

“Nice to meet you Seonghwa,” San said brightly as he was being pulled by Yeosang who stayed quiet and disappeared up the staircase.

Seonghwa dropped his bag on the side and took a seat on one of the mismatched chairs. He sat at the edge of the seat with his back straight as a plank still too tensed to relax. The floor cushion felt too comfortable and the couch seemed too intimate for a stranger like him. Wooyoung kept his eyes on him, his lips in a half smile.

“What’s your story,” Wooyoung asked. “What is a sky high kid like you doing in this part of Seoul.”

SKY - the three major universities of the country: Seoul National, Korea, Yonsei - where only high achievers were admitted. To the rest of South Korea, however, they were where the children of the most prestigious elite go, clad with designer labels, driving European cars, tossing daddy’s credit card, and their futures already secure upon graduation.

Seonghwa scoffed. Nothing about him felt like a SKY student. “I left Jinju because I was far from sky,” he meant it as both high achiever student and elite student. “Without any plans. Luckily, I met Yunho at the theater and he was able to offer a space here.”

“You went to that?” Wooyoung said in disbelief, to which the tall man rolled his eyes at. “How did you survive?”

“Yunho wasn’t a bad actor, though,” Seonghwa defended.

“No but their writers sucks,” Wooyoung said. “I don’t know why he kept going there. His talents are wasted in that dump.”

“It’s my only practice,” Yunho said from where he stood at the kitchen, his shoulders lifted in a shrug.

Wooyoung smiled. He was right, though. Yunho, as much as he would have loved to professionally train as an actor, he couldn’t afford the fees even with his three jobs, Seonghwa would later find out.

“We’ll turn in for the night. Could you show Seonghwa to his room?” Yawning, Yunho was now being pulled by Mingi back towards the other end of the hall where, Seonghwa assumed, their room was.

“What roo—? oh!” Wooyoung said. “Sure! Na-night!”

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you need to. Feel at home,” Yunho called out before disappearing and the door closing.

“Thanks again, Yunho!” Seonghwa said before returning his attention to Wooyoung still draped on the cushion floor staring at him. “I’m fine here outside. The couch look big enough. I won’t be a nuisance and I wake up early so people won’t have to worry about me.”

“Oh you don’t want to sleep on that,” Wooyoung said pointing at the couch. *Fair enough*. “It’s fine. Joong never comes home anyway. When he does, he sleeps on the couch ready to go out again when he wakes up. When we do see him home, he’s mostly hung over. He hasn’t been home for a week now. The longest he stayed out was a month. He probably comes in, we just never see him.”

“What does he do?”

Wooyoung laughed assuming Seonghwa was asking about Joong having a job. “Nothing,” he replied his cackling laughter filled the open plan. “He sleeps over wherever his dick takes him.”

Seonghwa was surprised at the lack of filters within these walls. If he had said the same thing to his friends back home, he would only face backlash and criticism. He cleared his throat at that not sure what to respond. He did not want to impose since he only needed a place tonight to try and figure out the rest of his life. Going back will never be his option. So he needed plans A to Z to lessen his nerves. He could be gone in the morning before everyone could wake up.

“Really. You don’t have to worry about it,” Wooyoung continued. “It’s such a perfectly good empty space. You might as well stay comfortable while you get to know Seoul a little bit more. Come! I’ll show you to your room.”

Wooyoung stood up and, with a single flick of his crop top, headed towards the stairs before Seonghwa could protest. He took his bag and placed it back around his body and followed the shorter man up to the rest of the house. When they reached the landing, Wooyoung pointed to each of the doors explaining who’s using it. A bathroom at the far end. The room on the right belonged to their youngest who preferred to stay solo. His, Yeosang’s and San’s room at the left side. With the second floor boasting higher ceiling than the first, Wooyoung explained the room was lofted.

Seonghwa failed to see another door on the second floor. Instead, behind them was another set of stairs that spiralled up against the corner wall to another level. It looked like it was an added feature to this house. Its unstained wooden steps looked like it was floating from the wall without a railing to hold on to. They walked up, their feet were heavy on its surprisingly sturdy steps.

“Here ya go,” Wooyoung announced when they reached the room and turned the lights on. The room was more unkept than the living room. For someone who never comes home, his room sure looked more used than the rest of the house. The white sheets on the bed were unmade. The bathroom door was left open and Seonghwa spotted a toothbrush and opened tube of toothpaste sitting on the sink counter. The doors of the closet were half opened, some clothes had fallen on the floor. Next to it stood two tailors mannequins, one a male, the other a female form. The female form had an unfinished project held with pins, while the other carried multiple of the owner’s used shirts. The room boasted a full window looking over the street and the nearby park. There was a seat that spread across the whole glass windows, on it was a sewing machine biting onto a forgotten piece of fabric. Everywhere around were threads, pins, fabric scraps, books, papers, pens, rulers, chalks and tape measures scattered at every inch of the room.

“It’s crazy here, I know,” Wooyoung said who must have seen Seonghwa taking in the mess of the room. “Joongie works crazy when he’s in the zone. And he’s always on the go. He never has time to clean up. This one’s a fabric scrap from last year.” Wooyoung picked up a long strip of a red fabric that was fraying on all sides. “His works are fucking awesome, though. You’ll see.”

Seonghwa smiled at the idea that Wooyoung thinks he’d be staying here long enough for him to see his friend’s creations. Honestly, he didn’t know what he’d be doing or where he’d be going tomorrow, but he appreciated the welcoming thought. He could feel a yawn coming but he tried to suppress it not wanting to make Wooyoung feel unwanted. But he had quite a long day and seeing the bed made him realize he was definitely feeling tired.

It must have been obvious in his drooping eyes how tired he was because Wooyoung began to excuse himself. “Well, I hope you get ‘nough rest for now. I’ll head down and catch up with Yeosang and San.”

“Thank you, Wooyoung,” said Seonghwa unable to hold his yawn any longer.

“Your formality is too fucking cute,” he said as he turned towards the stairs. “Tomorrow I expect all your tea spilt.” The last of the young man disappeared.

Seonghwa, once again, was alone and he could feel the rush of everything that had happened that day. Had he imagined he’d be standing at a stranger’s messy room in Seoul? Never. Seonghwa yesterday wouldn’t even think he’d ever had the guts to do this. But here he was alone in a stranger’s room picking up the fabric scraps and sewing materials on the floor setting what he could find somewhere on the window seat. He placed his bag next to the bed and pulled out a change of clothes. Yesterday he’d picked up a silk set of pyjamas from his tidy, well-organized drawers. Tonight, he just needed out of the t-shirt and jeans he’d been wearing all day and slip into a new pair, all showered and cleaned up. He managed to get his cleanser and moisturiser from his bathroom before he left. *Not enough for long*, so Seonghwa had to spare as much as he possibly could with what’s left of his skin care.

He plopped down on the stranger’s soft covers and tucked himself in. The pillow lingered with the stranger’s scent, musky but sweet and a little bit smokey. Seonghwa placed his arms onto his forehead as he let his brain try and formulate tomorrow’s plan. *One day at a time*, he reminded himself. He can only survive this if he took it slowly. Today, he was lucky to have met Yunho and was able to rest in a comfortable safe space. Tomorrow could be the opposite. He needed to figure something out. But honestly, he was blanking and before he could draw anymore ideas, Seonghwa fell into slumber.

Notes:

Well?????? Yeahhh... I had to do the units. It just made sense in my brain.

I especially loved writing Wooyoung. He is definitely an important character in this story and I'm glad I can do whatever I want with him. Mingi, San and Yeosang all will have their moments, but for now... I need the main characters set in place. I mean, we still have to meet Hongjoong... Soon. Soon.

IG: @a.mat__z

Chapter 4: Kim Hongjoong

Summary:

At last... The charmer is here.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Hongjoongaaa!” Wooyoung excitedly called out prolonging his name a little too long… and a little too loudly. Seonghwa could hear his voice clearly emanating from downstairs as he slowly descended the wooden steps, his duffle bag in hand. The night was a little rough for Seonghwa who was never used to sleeping in beds other than his own. Slight noise or movement would wake him out of his slumber, and he was sure he heard a voice groaning, the rustling of footsteps, and the tap water running last night. However, his body and eyelids were too heavy from exhaustion that it kept him tucked under the covers deciding all of that was just hallucination or a part of a dream. He eventually fell asleep deep and long enough that he miss the early alarm he’d set. He had hoped he could slip out of the house before anyone woke up.

There was mumbling downstairs before Wooyoung amped up his voice again. “You’re leaving already? Stay! You never stay long enough to hang out anymore.” Seonghwa could practically hear Wooyoung pouting in the way he whined. “You should meet Seonghwa. He’s fucking gorgeous… would chase your type out the window in an instant.”

“Everyone’s my type” Seonghwa heard a unique raspy voice responded now that he’s at the top of the main staircase. There was a slight pause before he heard Wooyoung laughed. “Aiysh! Wooyounga, you piece of shit. By the way, why the fuck were you giving out my room. Again!

Seonghwa froze. So someone was in the room last night, Seonghwa thought. And it was Hongjoong himself!

“Yunho brought him here,” Wooyoung said as if saying it would pass on the blame. “I wasn’t going to let him sleep in that couch! It’s your fucking cum all over that damn thing. You deserve to sleep there. You’re never home and the poor fella seemed too tense. Typical though, we see so many just like him coming in this house all the time. Luxuries always bring those runaways back, but he seems different. I bet my second hand beat up Chrome Hearts jacket he’ll stay in Seoul as long as he could. He is hungry for something. I can sense it and I want to know what.”

“You fucking love that jacket,” Hongjoong said.

“Yeah, exactly my point.”

“You should really learn to stay away from other people’s business,” Hongjoong warned.

“Yeah, but like how will I know who to keep and who to keep closer.”

There were soft movements Seonghwa had missed from behind him, too engulfed in the conversation downstairs. Whoever was behind him cleared his throat and unfroze him making him jump a little from where he stood at the top of the stairs. “Eh Seonghwa hyung?” Although confused, the young man’s eyes lit up when his groggy eyes had adjusted and fully registered Seonghwa’s familiar features.

“Jongho?” Seonghwa’s deep morning voice cracked in surprise when he recognised who called him. Jongho’s head was tilted to one side over the headphones that was around his neck. The hairs on his head were sticking out in all direction and his plain white t-shirt and sweat shorts were wrinkly.

“Oh he’s awake!” Wooyoung said excitedly from down stairs. “Nooooooooo! Don’t leave now!”

“I’d love to meet your new victim but I need to go.”

“You’re no fun,” Seonghwa heard Wooyoung whined again and then the doors closing.

Seonghwa followed Jongho when he started descending the stairs. “You’re here? I heard your parents went abroad. I assumed you went with them.”

“I became a trainee and moved to Seoul before appa found a job in the States,” Jongho explained simply. “Glad I did. You know how they are. I wouldn’t want to be in a strange country with an almost estranged parents.” Like Seonghwa, Jongho’s life in Jinju weren’t pleasant as well, having parents who worried about business more than family. Unlike Seonghwa, whose parents had eyes everywhere, Jongho’s parents were never around. It had been a few years now since Seonghwa saw Jongho. When his family’s business went down and they fled to Ilsan, a city near Seoul, Jinju gossipers filled the story with their own versions, and Seonghwa never knew exactly what happened to them. It seemed too long ago now to even need to know.

Seonghwa nodded and clutched the handles of his duffle bag tightly in his fists. The living room felt different now that it was lit with morning light. It was more homely than ambient, more friendly than lustful. But it was still just as messy as he found it last night. His eyes slightly twitched as he scanned the coffee table with the forgotten bowls and empty beer bottles still on it and spotted more on the floor. At least the dining table was a properly functioning set of furnitures again.

“Seonghwa!” Wooyoung singsonged his greeting when the pair arrived, his arms and cheekbones lifted in excitement from where he sat at one of the floor cushions, puffing out smoke, bong in one of his lifted hands. Seonghwa pressed his lips into a smile. He looked around to find Mingi in the kitchen fixing himself a bowl of cereal with milk, his hood shadowing his face. The morning light illuminated his shadowed face when he looked up to give Seonghwa a smile before dashing back into his room with his bowl of cereal in hands.

“What the fuck are you doing with your bag with you?” Wooyoung chimed.

Seonghwa looked at the duffle bag in his hand. “Oh uhm, well, thank you for letting me stay the night. I really appreciated it, but I should be going if I want to find anything. I’ve imposed too much already.” Hongjoong not getting to sleep in his own room felt wrong.

“Oh pssshh,” Wooyoung dismissed his efforts of gratitude. “Like where would you go? Money will easily run out in this damn city faster than you could get out of this street. It isn’t the friendliest of cities to start over and you’ll get lost as soon as you get out of this house. There’s a perfectly good room upstairs that needs some life anyway.”

“He didn’t even get to sleep in his own room last night. I heard him come in.” Seonghwa said. “And besides, I’ve nothing to pay you at all.”

“And you do other places?” Wooyoung challenged, his eyes looking up at Seonghwa through one raised eyebrow. He was right, he had nothing. He couldn’t come up with any plan at all. Staying was his best option and someone’s making him stay.

“Would that be okay, though? All the rooms are occupied and I feel bad taking his room again. It wasn’t right.” Seonghwa wanted to stay. Being in this house felt like he didn’t have to check his actions all the time, or if he was sitting upright at the table or if his clothes were still pressed at the end of the night. The environment was comfortable and welcoming. Plus, Jongho’s here. They weren’t extremely close growing up but they shared a common interest in disappearing from the unwanted attention of the elders and their peers. They’d pass by each other with a nod of acknowledgement and then they would be on their way. Having someone familiar could ease the anxieties.

Wooyoung was wildly tapping at his phone by then. “There,” Wooyoung said with finality. “I sent a message to everyone saying you’re staying. The boys won’t mind. You’ve practically met everyone but Hongjoong now. That was Mingi, but he stays cooped up in there most of the time,” Wooyoung swatted his hands towards the room where the other man disappeared to. “They will love to have you and you will love them. So shut up with your formalities and thanks. We’re keeping you. Oh! We’re going to have so much fucking fun in Seoul.” He clapped his hands together when he stood up from the cushion seat, took Seonghwa’s bag to set it aside—far enough so he can’t run away with it—and pulled him to the kitchen to join Jongho who had started making himself eggs and toast.

“So Hyung, why are you in Seoul?” Seonghwa knew what Jongho meant by his question. It was no secret who Seonghwa was even to those who’s left the city like Jongho. Seonghwa’s family was a family of tradition. Seeing Seonghwa in Seoul without them but with a duffle bag, it only pushed for curiosity. He was not going to lie, though, Seonghwa was hoping he didn’t have to meet anyone he knew, but Jinju wasn’t too far away from Seoul and South Korea wasn’t the largest of countries, it was bound to happen.

Seonghwa sighed. He would eventually tell what happened somehow. He just never expected it would be to someone who knew him or his family, and this soon. But he liked Jongho anyway and he knew the younger guy would understand his side of the story. If his actions would haunt him one day, at least he knew there was someone who heard his real story, someone who would understand.

Before he could start, San appeared from upstairs in his white t-shirt so tight it would rip at a single flex of his muscles and grey lose track pants. He greeted the lads with a happy morning, the dimples on his face were so prominent and his small eyes were in slits, just as it did the previous night before Yeosang pulled him away. This time, Seonghwa was finally able to really take in his friendly features and appreciate just how well built San’s body looked.

“Hi Seonghwa,” he greeted. “How was your stay last night? How do I address you, by the way?”

“A little rough. I’m just not used to being in a different home yet but I’m very thankful I’m not out on the streets unsheltered. And you can just call me Seonghwa. You too Jongho,” Seonghwa said welcoming the informality that was already set in the household.

“What are we up to?” San asked clapping his hands together the muscles of his arms tensing under the fitted t-shirt.

“Well, Seonghwa’s about to tell us his tea, then you interrupted,” Wooyoung said looking at San with a straight face and pursed lips before continuing. “Can you shhh now? I want to know!”

Seonghwa let out a giggle before starting. He spoke softly at first unsure where to begin and doubting they’ll find his story even worth listening to. Sharing his life story was a little unusual for him. He gotten so used to people already informing him of what was happening with his life before he even knew it himself. So he was nervous how these people would engage and take in the stories of his past. As soon as he started, though, their eyes filled with so much interest and curiosity while they had their breakfast and morning coffees. As the morning deepened into noon, Seonghwa shared as much as they wanted to know not shying on anything, including his silk factory adventures.

The feeling of freedom was starting to engulf Seonghwa. Wooyoung’s enthusiasm loosened the chills gripping his throat. San’s smile and Jongho’s concern lifted the anchor that was preventing his heart from beating normally. He may still be anxious about having zero plans, but he would rather this than to live deeper into nothingness.

 

------

 

Seonghwa stood in the middle of Hongjoong’s room marvelling at the mannequin with fabric draped on it. The mannequin looked like it was ready to retire, slightly leaning onto its heavier side where the fabric was contained. It was fraying at some places and what probably was once a pristine unbleached cotton skin, was now yellowing and dotted with holes. Seonghwa was afraid that if he’d touched it, it would collapse. But that wasn’t what Seonghwa was fixating on. On it was a black brocade fabric that was pinned on the mannequin’s shoulder. Its slight stiffness was juxtaposed by delicate filigree. Woven with silver thread, the fabric had sheen to its otherwise matte cotton base. Its softness told Seonghwa it had been blended with silk.

When the group dispersed after San left for his afternoon class (Seonghwa found out he was a dance major at a smaller college), Wooyoung carried Seonghwa’s bag back up to Hongjoong’s messy room. Only this time, Wooyoung found the room much not like the mess he left it the previous night. The wild child laughed at how well tucked and smoothed the covers of the bed were, the fabric scraps organized onto one side at the window seat, and the floor finally visible. “Well, this is a first!” Wooyoung remarked at the order that was never usually Hongjoong’s thing.

“Sorry, I couldn’t really leave a mess,” Seonghwa shyly said.

“Fuck it. He needs this in his life anyway,” Wooyoung said when he dropped the bag near the foot of the bed. He watched Seonghwa stare at the mannequin. “That’s been there for quite some time now,” Wooyoung spoke behind him as they both looked at the unfinished project. “Joongie really loved that fabric but he could never find the right design for it. It’s been a while since I last saw him touch a fabric or sketch anything.”

“What happened?” The stranger was beginning to intrigue Seonghwa. He could tell the frustrations in the way the fabric was left untouched. While he did his best not to move that part of the room while he was cleaning, he still noticed the slight folds that had relaxed over time still holding on to the memories of the designer’s idea. The broken threads he managed to pick up while he was cleaning looked like it had been picked from the many trials and errors. He didn’t know much about sewing, but his friends from the factory showed him enough stitching remedies for him to be able to tell the small threads were once long enough to hold fabrics together.

“Nothing,” Wooyoung shrugged his shoulders while his arms were crossed at the chest. “He just stopped one day. He’s like that though. One day he’ll bury himself at his machine or sketchbook for hours and hours and hours, sometimes days, sometimes without eating or sleeping. The next he’d be out fucking half the city barely coming home.”

“How long have you known him?” Seonghwa wanted to know.

“Since before I moved in this house. Hongjoong and I have been roaming these streets like it’s our own playground. He was a kid when he moved to Seoul from Anyang, practically on his own, and I lived here all my life. I pretty much lived in this house before I officially moved in. This house became Hongjoong’s when his grandparents died, but he never really lived here if you get what I mean. He would much rather be elsewhere than here.”

It intrigued Seonghwa further. He had not met anyone like Hongjoong before. Someone who, just like him, had a perfectly good place to call home but would prefer somewhere else and he’s curious as to why. Was it the same as his reasoning? Or was it for a completely opposite reason at all? He seemed to be someone who was just as lost as Seonghwa was, surviving just as badly as he could. “Where are his parents,” Seonghwa was curious.

Wooyoung gave his elbows a small shrug. “Anyang,” was all he uttered before pressing his lips. There was definitely more to it than what Wooyoung let out, Seonghwa could tell. Unfiltered as he was about anything, he put a lid on Hongjoong’s privacy. It wasn’t his story to tell, anyway. He didn’t press any further.

“How did you all end up here?” Seonghwa asked instead.

“Yunho was the first to come. He moved to Seoul from Gwanju to pursue acting after fulfilment of his military service straight after high school. It was too early, but Yunho really had no choice. His parents couldn’t afford his schooling anymore, let alone acting school. Joong and I met him in one of his many jobs, became instant friends and Joong offered him a place to stay to lessen his burden. Hongjoong never really cared who we bring here, you see,” explained Wooyoung.

He continued. “Mingi came straight after, buddies since high school ya’know. Mingi! You haven’t fully met Mingi yet, haven’t you?” Seonghwa nodded still with his eyes glazing over the mannequin. “Anyway, him and Jongho were trainees in the same company but they hated it. When they both left the company, they were left unsheltered. It was almost natural for those two to come here since Yunho and Mingi are a thing anyway. They would hang out here whenever they had a day off from that awful company.” Wooyoung scrunched his nose and stuck his tongue out in disgust.

“I met San and Yeosang at a club and I was hooked by them instantly with their faces alone. Got to know them and we all clicked. So I kept bringing them here at every party or when we want to get wasted. They used to stay at their college dorm when they first came to Seoul. But they’re too crazy those two. Their dorm always locked them out because they’d come home late, so they’d come here instead. Suits them better anyway, to stay here, those rebels. Well, their dorm eventually kicked them out so here we are. But I don’t think we ever really officially moved in. We just did.”

Seonghwa was smiling at how naturally it all fell for them to be together. Oh how he longed for something like that for himself. He craved to be a part of that.

To be a part of them.

 

------

 

Later that night, Seonghwa settled into Hongjoong’s room after Wooyoung, in his words “for the hundredth time,” reassured him he can stay in Hongjoong’s room. He kept all his things in his bag at the ready in case they find an alternative arrangement.

He hang out with Wooyoung all day, who he found out did photography in his spare time. And he had a lot of spare time. All the photographs and polaroids scattered in the living room, framed and not, were Wooyoung’s work. Some were drunken shots by the others or friends, especially the polaroids, but mostly were Wooyoung’s prints. Seonghwa was enamoured by the romanticism that was evident in Wooyoung’s style. Dark and mysterious, quite the opposite of his cheery and bright disposition.

“Do you sell these,” Seonghwa asked flicking through the numerous prints in his hands earlier that day. He stopped when a photograph of a young woman surrounded by peers mid-dance, her tongue out and hands holding an alcoholic beverage in the air captured his attention. It had full of life but in Wooyoung’s style, it wasn’t just a party. The woman in the shot looked free, unwavered and euphoric in that very moment. Seonghwa felt envious but hopeful he’d be as carefree as her one day.

“I tried,” Wooyoung said with a shrug. “Most places are looking for named photographers. I sold a few once but that was a long time ago. I put them on social media, but it’s too much work yah know.”

Seonghwa didn’t know, actually. He stayed hidden from every possible places, social media included. He had one when everyone in his elementary school forced him to start. After posting one photo (which gained quite a number of likes) he never used it again, forgotten.

“You have to pose for me one day,” Wooyoung made Seonghwa promise.

Seonghwa took his change of clothes out to lay it on the bed ready before heading to the bathroom. He brought his toiletries and the towel Wooyoung gave him. He only left the house with Wooyoung to the nearest convenience store to grab food, but it was a habit of his to take a shower daily, especially now that some days were becoming warmer. The touch of warm water and soft bubbles caressing his skin comforted Seonghwa’s tired muscles. He let out a breath of relief at the realization he wouldn’t have to roam the streets of Seoul anymore. The life he never had the chance to claim was finally becoming his.

He definitely cannot wait to see what tomorrow would be like now that he could design his own life. The possibilities suddenly were endless like he could become anyone he wanted to be. His body shivered in excitement, the corners of his lips curling up into uncontrollable smile. There were so much he felt he missed out on like parties he wanted to socialize in, jobs that he could possibly look forward to doing, people he could be kissing.

For some reason, his mind had brought him to the idea of the mysterious designer that had captured his attention. What was he like? Was he just as worry free and as reckless as Wooyoung made him out to be? Or was there more to the designer than the city’s ultimate charmer? What did he look like? Will he ever official meet him?

Seonghwa sighed heavily before turning the water off and finished with his facial skin care routine. He wrapped the towel around his lower waist leaving his upper body exposed still slightly dripping with droplets of water when he stepped out of the bathroom.

The deep tone of his voice had left his throat in a gasp when his eyes locked at the man whose long lips curled into a sheepish smile. Such a long distinct smile that Seonghwa had never ever forgotten no matter how long it had been since that very night they met. Seonghwa stared a little too long as his chest drummed a little too loudly. Perhaps it was from embarrassment at being caught half naked by a stranger in the stranger’s very own room. Or perhaps it was because he was staring right back at the most beautiful man he’s ever seen in his sheltered life, whose dangerously piercing eyes hooked Seonghwa’s in a trance.

Kim Hongjoong.

If Seonghwa had control over his life, he would be more occupied by beautiful things. So beautiful it could be dangerous.

Notes:

I had to stop it here. I promise, there will be more Hongjoong now that he's finally in our pages. Sorry it took four chapters and still just a glimpse of him.

Hope you like it.

IG: @a.mat__z

Chapter 5: Aurora

Summary:

Visiting Aurora cafe might be what Seonghwa needed.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

If Seonghwa was asked what life was like for him in Seoul, he’d always say, in his deep voice, cracking in excitement, with stars in his eyes: “it was life changing”. Seonghwa was transformed into a man who feared nothing except losing chances and experiences. He designed the rest of his life taking chances at everything life offered him. He loved and never regretted what followed since running away. Anything that piqued his interests and what he defined beautiful, he had tried, tasted and felt. He would almost never say no to anything, more afraid of missing out on life again than the unknown implications of his choices. He let go of anything he didn’t need. Needless to say, his virginity included.

But that won’t happen until much later when he finally had a taste of the real Seoul.

It wasn’t all pleasant. Many of his experiences came with overflowing tears in his eyes and pain in his chest. Especially when he risked the matters of the heart. He treaded through the heartaches that came with the most dangerous feeling anyone could experience: love. The emotion that made anyone give a lot of themselves in the hopes that the other reciprocates the same way. But he wanted it. He liked this kind of danger. The feeling of electric current jolting through his senses made him feel alive more than anything else. He was addicted to the feeling of life pulsing through his veins.

So he edged himself to emotional dangers at the first taste of love. He fell for a man who showed him how to live life according to his choices. He showed him the beautiful things life could offer. But as beautiful as it was, it left his heart shattered as the man himself was incapable of giving love. Despite the many warnings everyone had given him, he couldn’t help himself, though. Not when the other man showed a glimpse of him wanting the same, needing the same.

But all of this Seonghwa wouldn’t know yet. Especially not when the night of his first meeting with Hongjoong in his room made him want to hide his face, too embarrassed to face the gorgeous man ever again.

So when Yunho brought it up days after the uneventful first meeting, Seonghwa felt heat charging up his cheeks once again. It was Yunho’s first day off in a while from all of his many jobs and his acting workshops. Knowing that Yunho had already learned about it albeit not seeing each other until then made the feeling much worse. Seonghwa felt himself closing into his inner shell, feeling Yunho’s amused eyes at him. He tried to hide his embarrassment as he held himself up on the dining table with his elbows and the cup of his coffee on his lips.

Hongjoong.

It had been almost a week since Hongjoong’s eyes pierced through him, stabbing memories in his beating heart.

Hongjoong sheepishly smiled at Seonghwa when he did nothing but gasp as he stepped out of bathroom half naked that night. “I’m sorry,” the man said as he scratched the back of his neck guiltily, coming into the room unannounced. “I needed a change of clothes and I didn’t really hear anything from the bathroom. I assumed you were downstairs with Wooyoung. So I snuck in. Just shit timing, I suppose.”

Seonghwa didn’t know why he never noticed the sliding door leading to the outdoor rooftop space, which would probably how Hongjoong could come in and out of the house undetected by everyone. He must have assumed it was kept closed unable to be used. Maybe Hongjoong did come home most of the time, he just never stayed home long enough for the rest of them to feel his presence. He watched as Hongjoong opened the doors to his wardrobe and fiddled through his clothes. Seonghwa only replaced the clothes that had fallen from it on his first night but did not touch the disorganized way his clothes were tucked in.

“I hope you had a decent first night in Seoul. It must be different from where you came from.” He rambled and then continued. “I’m sorry you had to go through the mess. You shouldn’t have bothered yourself cleaning this room. It’ll get fucked up quite quickly. But if it makes you feel comfortable, I suppose.” Hongjoong was pushing clothes he didn’t want back into the closet haphazardly before closing it. With his back still facing Seonghwa, Hongjoong pulled the t-shirt he was wearing in a single swift motion and tossed it on the pile of clothes resting on one of the mannequins before wearing a fresh black t-shirt. Seonghwa was too stunned to realize he was watching the toned muscles of Hongjoong’s back tensing at every move, the blades of his shoulders projecting. His stature was smaller than his, but his presence was gigantic, even just as he was doing the bare minimum. He pushed his yellowing blonde hair back—its dark roots starting to show—with his small fingers and tucked them under the baseball cap he wore backwards. He turned to grab the colourful bomber jacket and keys he threw on the bed and looked at the still stunned Seonghwa with his strong stare before giving him a smile. Such long curling lips. Seonghwa couldn’t pick up what was in his smile. There was no humour but no lust as well. It was… warm juxtaposing the chills in the dark eyes that were still piercing Seonghwa’s heart.

“Wooyoung’s right about one thing.” He paused to meet Seonghwa’s eyes. “You are fucking gorgeous.”

Seonghwa’s cheeks turned scarlet as the heat chased his bashfulness when Hongjoong winked at him, now finally fully conscious of his half naked body exposed in front of the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen. He turned around, bit his lips and closed his eyes in embarrassment for not being able to speak. The sound of Hongjoong’s giggles was laced with amusement, Seonghwa swore his heart jumped a little bit. “You’re way too cute. I’ll see you around, gorgeous.” He said with finality before sliding the doors closed behind him and Seonghwa was left cupping his heated cheeks in his hands.

He could not understand why his heartbeat was way too strong that night and his insides somersaulting in all directions at the brief moment he saw Hongjoong. It must have been the embarrassment of getting caught with his bare torso out on display. He shoved the memory of him watching Hongjoong get changed and turning around at a wink to the back of his mind. He had hoped to never had to relive that memory. Yunho bringing it up only reminded him of how new he still was at many things, including facing a gorgeous man.

“Don’t.” Seonghwa whined a warning to Yunho now burying his face in his palms in embarrassment. Yunho giggled at the sight of Seonghwa’s shyness, not a trace of judgement or teasing in his voice. “I don’t know why I’m even embarrassed but it definitely wasn’t the best first meeting.”

This made Yunho laugh. “I expected nothing less from Hongjoong, honestly. And you had it easy. Most of the time there wasn’t even time to talk. With him, he’d either pull you in for a make out or ignore you. The fact he did neither and just left is certainly interesting.”

“That’s what Wooyoung said… in between laughs.” Seonghwa said as his cheeks turned more red at the memory of Wooyoung’s uncontrollable laughter. Wooyoung’s exact words were: “he’s fucked with just one encounter with you?” -laughed- “and I would have imagined he’d be pulling you into sloppy kisses and” -laughed- “take your” -laughed- “towel out. He’s fucking smitten, I’m calling it.” -laughed- “And you’re practically naked in front of him too and he… he…” he paused for a bit, then continued. “He smiled?” -laughed- “He even made a comment on his clean room?” He laughed even more.

“Surely he’d say something first before, uhm, having sex with someone, right?” Seonghwa asked Wooyoung trying to ignore his laughter, his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed more of his embarrassment.

“Yeah,” Wooyoung said through his dying laughter. “To ask if the person wants to do it with him. Otherwise, he’ll just ignore whoever he didn’t like. He’d strike up a conversation, sure, but only to get them to sleep with him. Hongjoong talking about you and his clean room? That’s a first.”

“Wooyoung’s right,” Yunho said after Seonghwa recalled what Wooyoung told him. “Hongjoong’s not one to keep nor want a relationship. The less he knew about the person the easier to leave. This is the first time he let anyone out without much as a kiss and have a normal conversation.”

“I don’t think we had conversation though. I didn’t even speak.” Seonghwa groaned at that feeling the embarrassment continue to creep up. After a while, though, as his embarrassment subsided, Seonghwa tilted his head in curiosity. “I don’t get it.” He paused. “Why?”

Yunho thought about this for a bit. Seonghwa watched as his friend contemplated on what to say. For the most part he kept his face steady, the actor in him at work. But he was betrayed by his shifting eyes as if wanting to say something but something would hold him back from speaking. Just like Wooyoung, he could see Yunho closing the topic, but instead he responded with a question. “Wouldn’t you want to just have fun and not be tied down with someone?”

“I suppose,” Seonghwa considered this. “Would you?”

“It’s different for everyone. I thought I wasn’t into commitment because of how busy I am. Mingi and I already broke up twice because of how much emotions and time we couldn’t give each other. But I guess, we both wanted each other that much, we’re giving it another go. This time really talking through what works for us.” Yunho opened up. “Anyway, I guess he just never found someone who could challenge that. He likes to have fun, and so do the people he meet. Anyone who thinks could have him only wants to claim him, yah know? Like as if it’s a win that they made him commit.”

“And fuck that shit,” a warm breath tickled Seonghwa’s ear that made him jump on his seat, his hand flying to his chest while letting out a loud shibal kamjagiya. Hongjoong had snuck in from behind him catching the frantic Seonghwa before he could fall off his chair. Their eyes met for a brief moment before Seonghwa readjusted himself on his seat still nursing his heart.

Yunho laughed, “I didn’t know you have it in you to curse, Seonghwa.”

“Shit. Sorry, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong said his sheepish smile back again pushing his eyes in curved slits still holding Seonghwa by his upper arm. “Are you alright?”

Seonghwa nodded letting out a long exhale, his cheeks raised in a smile.

“I thought you heard me close the front door,” Hongjoong said. “What are you talking about me for anyway.” Hongjoong let go of his arm in favour of wrapping an arm around Seonghwa’s slender shoulder instead as he squeezed himself on his chair. Seonghwa instinctively scooted a little bit to give him space to which Hongjoong took closing whatever gap they previously had. His heart, once again, uncontrollable under Hongjoong’s arms. He watched Yunho eye the arm that was around him with a knowing look, his laughter softening, before meeting his eyes.

“Seonghwa was just telling me about meeting you. You should stop scaring him like this,” Yunho laughed again now leaving Seonghwa’s eyes for Hongjoong’s.

“I’m alright,” Seonghwa said his breathing evening out, but his heart still thumping.

“He speaks!” Hongjoong teased with a wink when Seonghwa looked at him blushing.

“Hongjoongaaaa!” Wooyoung’s voice filled the whole room and all three boys looked at him. “Why are you pinning Seonghwa there. Move, move. Give him space.” He swatted his hands out at Hongjoong who only tightened his arms around Seonghwa and stuck his tongue out to Wooyoung. “Yah! “ His voice was loud. “You don’t even like to be this close to people.”

Seonghwa giggled but felt his heart fall when the warmth of Hongjoong’s arm disappeared. He didn’t understand why he liked having Hongjoong that close or why he craved his arm on his again.

“Don’t get charmed by this mother fucker,” Wooyoung warned Seonghwa taking the seat next to him. “He’s a raging red flag this one.”

Hongjoong stuck out his lips and gestured his hands in a way that mocked waving a flag. He shrugged his shoulders as he moved to take the seat across from Seonghwa when Wooyoung pushed him so he could be the one sitting next to him. The wild child placed his chin on his hands that was propped up by an elbow on the table and looked at Hongjoong with one eyebrow raised. “You staying?”

Hongjoong shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe. Nothing fun happening out there.” The way he looked at Seonghwa so intently with his devilish grin and strong dark eyes was etched in Seonghwa’s mind. “It looks like the fun is right here.”

Seonghwa said nothing when he slightly squinted his eyes meeting Hongjoong’s deciphering what he meant. The air was thick between all four friends as the other two switched between observing Seonghwa’s musing gaze and Hongjoong’s intense glare. While they can tell Hongjoong obviously had his eyes set on the newcomer, there was something else that glistened across his eyes. Something new the other two never saw previously. Not recently anyway. A softness and warmth that sparked so briefly, the darkness tried to shield it back behind his pupils.

“Yah!” Wooyoung was the first to speak but with much less force as if confused at what’s happening. He kept his questioning eyes on Hongjoong as he warned him, this time with a bit more seriousness in his tone than he had intended to exude. ‘I told you, stay away from Seonghwa. I actually like the dude so don’t you fucking play.”

Hongjoong blinked the danger out of his eyes and smiled softly shoving Wooyoung’s arms, “I’m not playing. Fuck off. I’m just saying it could be more fun to stay this time since it’s the same old shit happening out there. That’s all.”

Wooyoung hummed unconvinced. Still with his chin on his hand, he faced Seonghwa now looking less suspicious and much more excited. “What should we do today.”

Wooyoung announced his arrival as soon as he walked in Aurora Cafe. He was followed by the rest of the crew, including Mingi whom Yunho had invited to come. The cafe was cozy. From the outside it looked like an abandoned small building with its cemented exterior walls left unpainted and rain streaks left untouched. The inside, however, was the total opposite of abandoned. There were tables and chairs as expected but on one side of the cafe was a spread of colourful bean bags, seat cushion and small tables across the floor. The wall was left in its raw concrete form, but was decorated brightly with colourful framed illustrations. The morning light streamed through the opened accordion glass doors left tucked to the side. The cafe spread further out the back to the courtyard with more bean bags, and outdoor white metal seats and table. It wasn’t a huge cafe—Seonghwa had been to those and it always made him feel intimidated to go in. Aurora was inviting and comfortable.

The group managed to find an empty space for themselves in its busy state. The cafe was packed with more customers than usual. Hongjoong and Mingi were lost in conversation about Mingi’s latest music as they took the sits to hold the table. Stacks of empty coffee cups were left on it. Yunho picked up what he could to the back counter to clear their table.

Two people seemed to be frantic with a backlog of orders. One was behind the machine making coffee and the other switching between serving customers and sending food out. Wooyoung was now behind the counter preparing food.

“Just you two?” Yunho asked when he came up at the counter slightly worried.

The man behind the coffee machine groaned in frustration and he rolled his eyes, “Bomi is sick. Hani quit at the very last minute. Just my luck.”

“No way! Need a hand?” Yunho offered as he was placing the dishes at the back counter where Wooyoung was.

“Would you?” He said. “Oh but no. Don’t. Today’s your day off. Take it. We’ll be fine. We’ve had it worse.”

“I can help,” Seonghwa sung out from behind Yunho who took the rest of the empty cups on the table with him. He knew he’ll be needing a job soon, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. He knew nothing about coffee, but he knew how to serve people and make them feel comfortable.

Wooyoung looked at him with an eyebrow perked up taking food from the cabinet and started heating them up. “You’ve worked at a cafe before?”

Seonghwa shrugged, how hard could it be? “I volunteered once at a cafe during a fundraiser. I’ve spent all of my free time volunteering everywhere my parents could think of. Anyway, I can serve and clean, then you can teach me to make coffee on a quieter day.” He addressed who seemed to be the manager. “I’m Seonghwa, by the way.”

“Minjun,” he introduced himself while finishing off a coffee with a squiggly heart and placed it on a tray with four other drink orders. “This one goes to the outside table. Table 4. I’ll see how well you keep up today and we can talk about it when it’s quieter.” He pushed the tray to Seonghwa who carefully took it and started off to the direction of the outdoors.

For the next few minutes, Seonghwa dutifully took the drinks and cleared off tables as more and more drinks were ordered. Wooyoung handed their friends a few sandwiches and pastries to share and continued to help prepare the food orders behind the counter. Coffee and drinks would have to wait for them. The rest of the time everything went orderly as if they’d worked for a really long time and as customers slowed down and coffee orders were being fulfilled in time, Minjun was able to leave his hired worker behind the counter to join them at their table.

“You did really well today. I’m impressed,” Minjun praised Seonghwa. “Coffees stayed in cups, swift at cleaning and taking out trash. You even knew how to work the dishwasher. And customers seemed to be smitten by you. A couple of people had already asked if you’re a regular employee and wouldn’t take their eyes off you.”

“Thank you,” Seonghwa replied blushing at the last compliment.

“I would love to see how you can keep up with making coffee. Do you drink coffee?” He asked Seonghwa in an authoritative tone.

“On occasions and only in the morning,” Seonghwa responded respectfully. He could tell there was an impromptu interview happening right now sitting highly alert on his seat.

“When can you start?”

“As soon as you need me,” Seonghwa replied.

“Perfect!” Minjun clapped his hands together, the authoritative voice now gone. “I’ll see you back here next week.”

Seonghwa’s eyes opened wide as the older man stood up to get back to work. He beamed in excitement when the crew congratulated him. He felt relief he didn’t have to worry about his financial resources anymore. Jinju life had truly felt far away now that he had the means to stay in the capital.

“I told him you’d be good at the job,” Wooyoung said as he sat down bringing a tray of drinks with him. Seonghwa watched as each drinks were passed on to each one of them knowing exactly which drink went to who. “My brother knew I had great instincts with people.”

“Thank you,” Seonghwa smiled realising for the first time that they were related, Aurora was their family’s business.

He saw Hongjoong smile softly at him from across the table. His head was resting on the wall, knees propped up while taking a sip of his iced strawberry milk drink. He lifted the drink in cheers saying his congratulations in silence before smiling at something Mingi and Yunho said.

Time went by quickly as the friends got into random conversations sometimes falling between two or three but most of the time, everyone was in on each other’s stories. They never fell short of any topic, especially when San, Jongho and Yeosang came in to join the crew telling them about their day. Seonghwa observed how Yunho would often insert a joke. Jongho quietly listening as his head rested on Yeosang’s shoulders, who then would look blankly often times. Seonghwa caught Mingi, who was mostly reserved, laugh everytime Yunho made a joke. He noticed how Hongjoong fidgeted in his seat many times and how San and Wooyoug were so animated they would use every part of their body to express their stories if they could. One time, San even had to stand up to explain something that happened in his class. Two tables were now pushed together to accomodate everyone. Occasionally, Wooyoung or Seonghwa would get up to help when the cafe started becoming busy again with afternoon rush.

Just as the afternoon drifted to a close and patrons started leaving the cafe, Minjun and Seehun, the other employee, started to pack the cafe ready for close. Aurora was different than most cafes in the city. While most were open almost all day, Aurora closed at night. However, Seonghwa noticed none of them showed any signs of moving out of the cafe still engulfed with each other’s stories. Seonghwa and Wooyoung had cleared the table of their dishes and drinks and wiped it clean.

“Shall we take this to the bags?” Yunho invited when the last of the customer had left.

Everyone nodded as they stood up from their seats and transferred themselves to the area where the bean bags were and one by one plopped themselves onto their chosen cushions. Yunho had turned the front door sign to ‘CLOSED’ before taking a seat. Meanwhile, Wooyoung was pulling the shades over the windows to finalise the end of the day but left the back door opened. He dramatically fell onto the floor when he joined the group his head resting on San’s lap. Minjun had told Seehun he was free to leave as soon as all his tasks were finished and the employee left shortly after.

“I’m knacked,” Minjun announced. “I trust you have your keys with you?” Asking both Yunho and Wooyoung who both nodded in response. “Okay then. Have a good night. I’ll see you on Tuesday, Seonghwa.” And with that, he closed the front doors behind him leaving the cafe to the care of these eight men.

Notes:

This may be a bit of a filler chapter but I hope seeing Hongjoong flirt a little was fun. The next one will be much more fun flirting.

IG: @a.mat__z

Chapter 6: Untouched

Summary:

Seonghwa's finally learning more about himself... and so did his friends.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Alright!” Hongjoong emerged from the back room door—the sign on it said “employees only”—with a handful of cold beers between his fingers. Jongho was trailing behind him with a bucket of ice and more beer. He handed two bottles to Yunho and the rest took one out of the bucket before Jongho even had the chance to place the bucket on the floor. Mingi was fiddling with the sound system before eventually settling with upbeat hip-hop music. He smooth danced his way back to where the group was and sat next to Yunho. Seonghwa sat on a pink bean bag with his knees closed and his elbows resting on it much unlike the others who were all displaying their versions of comfortable in their seats. It wasn’t that Seonghwa wasn’t comfortable, he just wasn’t used to anything but poised. He didn’t think he was flexible enough to sit crossed-legged on the floor.

Seonghwa felt Hongjoong drop at his side, his elbow resting on a cushion while laughing at something Wooyoung said. He expertly opened the beer bottle with another and handed one to him. He did the same for his one and lifted his bottle waiting for Seonghwa to tap with his. He took the hint and clicked Hongjoong’s bottle with his, which prompted the blonde man to drink. Seonghwa, however, kept his untouched.

“Yah know it’s rude not to drink when you’ve cheered with someone,” Hongjoong teased. He displayed a wide grin at the man beside him.

“Sorry,” Seonghwa hesitated lifting the bottle to his lips before taking the smallest gulp of beer and making a disgusted face.

“You’ve had beer before, right?” Hongjoong noticed.

“First time,” Seonghwa admitted.

“No way,” Hongjoong said. “Any alcohol at all?”

“I’ve had the occasional wine my parents would allow me at dinners, yes,” he started. “But very limited. They did not approve of any other drink apart from wine.”

Hongjoong smirked and urged the other to take another. “Live a little, Seonghwa.”

He was right. He went to the capital to live his life. His parents’ ideals may not include getting wasted with his friends but not his. Maybe it was exactly what he wanted, to get wasted and not care if he looked less sophisticated. Maybe what he wanted was to just be in the moment. Plus, they weren’t here anymore, nor did they even know where he was. Not even the wandering eyes of gossipers who would tell his parents what he’s been up to. Life was now according to his ideals and he wanted to know what it was like to just let loose.

“So you’ve never been drunk?” Wooyoung asked from across Seonghwa and Hongjoong, interested in their conversation. Everyone else had caught on to the conversation around the newcomer and were now interested in Seonghwa’s reply. “Like you’ve never loosened up, let your body take over and your mind shut?” Wooyoung was using his hands and body to emphasise what he was saying.

“No?” He never meant for it to come out as a question, but he was suddenly aware of everyone waiting for his reply.

“Not even in hiding?” San had asked taking a sip of his own.

Seonghwa shook his head no. “I couldn’t risk it. I’ve never done anything. The wildest thing I’ve ever done was run away a few days ago.”

“Well you’re not missing out now,” Wooyoung reached his bottle out to Seonghwa from where he had now shifted lazing on his tummy waiting for the other to click their bottles in cheers. The high-pitched clink of the bottles touching prompted Seonghwa to pull the bottle to his lips intending to have a little sip, but Wooyoung didn’t stop. He kept drinking and gave Seonghwa a look that said he was to do the same. Seonghwa closed his eyes and ignored the bitter taste of the gold liquid. Everyone cheered, which encouraged Seonghwa to tip the whole bottle out into his mouth and swallow. It was bitter at first, but the more liquid slid through his tongue and then his throat, the more he tasted its sweet aftertaste. He was starting to like it.

“I bet you’re a wild one when you’re drunk,” Wooyoung remarked as soon as Seonghwa finished his drink.

He let out a satisfied groan after showing off his empty bottle scrunching his face in the process as everyone cheered. Hongjoong took the empty bottle from his slender fingers and replaced it with a new one already opened. “You guys just have this out the back?” He said as he cleared his throat.

“Yeah,” Wooyoung replied. “We hang out here lots and as long as we clean up, Minjun doesn’t mind. Customers don’t know we have these, though.” The wild child shot Seonghwa a look of warning.

“Noted.”

“So, Hwa, I’m curious,” Wooyoung dropped his chin on his hand, his feet up in the air. San was draped on top of him swigging through his beer rather quickly listening to the conversation. Seonghwa hummed in response before the wild child continued. “What else have you not done before? Like have you ever, I don’t know, done anything besides look pretty for your parents? Have you fucked anyone before? No wait! Have you ever been kissed?”

Seonghwa’s head was starting to feel heavy now that the bitter liquid had settled into his system. If his cheeks didn’t flush red from the alcohol, he knew it did now. He felt Hongjoong look up at him. He didn’t have to look at him to see the curious smirk spreading across his face. He can already imagine it. He took another gulp of his beer to avoid answering as long as possible.

This propped Wooyoung up to his knees pushing San off of him and straightened up. “Fuck! Really? You’ve never been kissed before?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Seonghwa defended.

“Your fucking silence did,” Wooyoung said.

Seonghwa rolled his eyes. He took another gulp of beer hoping the alcohol would take over his consciousness soon. But it wasn’t fast enough. He was still aware of how everyone was so invested in his confession. “I almost did with one of my friends at the silk factory. He also found out I’ve never been kissed. But just as we were about to, I chickened out. It was too risky. I didn’t want to get beaten up if my parents found out about it. So I ran away from him.”

Wooyoung looked at him pitifully for a split second before he smirked mischievously.

“What?” Seonghwa shot him a look.

“Nothing,” Wooyoung said still smirking as he approached Seonghwa. He bent down to Seonghwa’s ear, his heart drummed nervously when Wooyoung’s breath caressed his ears. “We can change that,” his whisper was not hiding the sultriness in its tone. Seonghwa’s head rushed when Wooyoung cupped his cheeks in his hands and looked at his eyes deeply. He gulped. Why can’t the alcohol take over his brain already? Seonghwa closed his eyes unsure of what to do.

Wooyoung chuckled and placed his lips on Seonghwa’s heated cheeks instead before letting go of his face. He lazed back down on his seat giving Seonghwa a cheeky grin. “I mean, if you want us to now… Just tell us. We’d fucking love it.”

Hongjoong emerged from the backroom and handed everyone snacks. Seonghwa did not notice when he stood up, too nervous with Wooyoung’s teasing. There was a slight tug in his nervous heart at the little disappointed he felt when Wooyoung went for his cheeks instead. Although he was unsure if he wanted his first kiss to be claimed yet, but would it be so bad if Wooyoung did it? He didn’t think so.

“Let’s make it eventful,” Wooyoung continued and then gasped in excitement when his internal light bulb switched on. “Oh my god! We should all go out to Hongdae and find you a man to give you your first kiss. Man, right?” Wooyoung looked at him expectantly to which Seonghwa shrugged then nodded. “Cause if you would rather a woman…” he trailed off.

“I wouldn’t even know what I would prefer,” Seonghwa said. “I do find men more attractive since I could remember. Women, I’d like to know their secrets and how they’re so beautiful all the time.”

“Oh trust me, you’re more gorgeous than most women,” Wooyoung said. “Who’s in?!”

 

 

------

 

 

Seonghwa found himself sprawled across Hongjoong’s bed still in his clothes from the night before the morning after. How did he get back? He dug the heels of his palm at his temple, his brain felt like it was carrying a dozen bags of sand. He winced when he forced himself to lay on his back as he tried to adjust his munted vision. What the fuck happened last night? He wasn’t used to it. He never knew what his limit was with alcohol and Wooyoung—*ah yes Wooyoung—*kept shoving drinks at him, especially when the soju started.

Oh god, of all things he remembered first, he remembered the feel of the strong bitter taste of the clear liquid. It wasn’t the first time he had a taste of soju, though. His curiosity got the best of him once when he found his friends at the silk factory having a drinking session. Still, the bittersweet dew burned his throat with every shot slowly getting used to it. Seonghwa enjoyed it though, especially the feeling that started to wash over him after a couple of bottles worth of shots. The more he drank, the more his old self left his body and what left was his purest, rawest form. He blinked at the ceiling as memories of the night before slowly came back in pieces.

When the night deepened and everyone had drunk a little more than they could handle, they turned the cafe into their makeshift club. At this point, the soju was out of its storage and down their throats clearly not ready to end the night. The bright white lights were turned off with only a few soft ones and the moonlight to illuminate the cafe. San and Wooyoung had pushed some tables against the wall to create space for a dance floor. Then Yunho joined as Mingi turned up the music, more upbeat tunes blasted through the phone and onto the speakers. Jongho was cuddling Yeosang at the bean bags, both too wasted to get up but not wasted enough to stop drinking.

The chill of the evening left thrills on Seonghwa’s skin. It had been the most fun, most carefree night of his life. He had completely forgotten who he was as he let the shots take his consciousness and body over. Before he could stop himself, he joined Yunho, San, and Wooyoung on the dance floor. Hongjoong followed with a bottle of soju to pour over a tiny glass the charmer handed everyone. Seonghwa could picture the way Hongjoong’s wide smile pushed his eyes in a curved line over his cheeks. They clicked their little glasses and in a single fast swoop, downed all of the liquid and shook the glass over their heads, cheering.

Wooyoung laughed loudly and he joined in. “You’re a fast learner!” He took Seonghwa’s hand and pulled it up to guide him in a twirl, his body in tune with the music. Their hips connected and their legs somewhat intertwined as their bodies were pulled closer to move in a rhythm. He loved it—the feel of another body next to his, hands holding him tight. The weight of the wild child’s hands on his hips gave him the courage to let his body move in ways he didn’t know he could. He wasn’t much of a dancer, but as the alcohol drowned the rest of his consciousness, he didn’t care how the rest of his body moved in its own rhythm. The way his hands roamed the length of his torso until he pulled it up over his head, his hips still flushed against Wooyoung’s waving from side to side, was so sensual that he felt a new surge of confidence sprout within him. He felt something he never knew he was even capable of feeling. He’s only seen it in the movies he watched in silence relying on subtitles under protective covers late at night when he knew his parents were deep in slumber. The need to feel sensual, alluring, and sexy in his own skin had always bubbled beneath his perfected mask. Tonight, he finally felt his skin tingling underneath his very own touches.

His self-confidence elevated more when, at one point, while his hands were up in the air, Hongjoong laced his hands around his waist and pulled him from Wooyoung, who immediately wrapped his arms around San. The pull forced his hands to drop on Hongjoong’s chest, their hips flushed against each other. Seonghwa’s skin shivered at the electrifying touch of Hongjoong’s tiny hands. Gentle but firm grip, his fingers were clawing the softness of his shirt. It was like Hongjoong wanted nothing but to keep him this close. Unlike Wooyoung, whose dancing was a little more dynamic and wild next to his more graceful movements, Hongjoong, although still different, was more in tune with his. With their foreheads now touching, Hongjoong’s hands moved to trace the side of his torso, following the length of his arms. He softly held hand and pulled it from his chest to his shoulder making Seonghwa wrap his arms around his neck. The rise and fall of their breathing were in sync as Hongjoong’s toned abs pressed against his lithe waist.

It might be the alcohol doing this to him, but he did not care if anyone was looking at them. Right now, he was in his state of euphoria and Hongjoong, oh god Hongjoong, was making him more elated. The feel of Hongjoong’s body against his was so heated he didn’t want to let go. Ever since they met, Seonghwa had always felt this undeniable electricity whenever Hongjoong was around. Perhaps it was those eyes that sent those bolts of energy, or that smile igniting a light awakening his silent heart. Whatever it was Seonghwa was into it and he’s starting to get addicted. He felt his own body pressing closer to Hongjoong, urging the charmer’s hands to wander down to his hips. He closed the lids of his eyes as they rolled back with the music, his head swaying in different directions. Hongjoong’s wandering hands sent him even deeper into euphoria.

Seonghwa smiled at the memory, his cheeks flushed crimson with heat. His heart beat rapidly against his chest like it wanted to get out and explode. The memory was so vivid now that his mind had sobered up. Oh, how he’s extremely grateful the alcohol did not erase this memory forever. He only came close to this feeling when he had a crush on that guy from the silk factory, but nothing as euphoric as it was with Hongjoong. It was such a different feeling for Seonghwa that he did not know what to do with himself. Instead, he took a deep breath to steady his heart. He stood up leaving the sheets and his headache behind.

Downstairs, he found Wooyoung clutching a cup of coffee, the bags under his eyes were dark and droopy. His eyes were in slits as he watching Seonghwa glide down the stairs and into the kitchen. “How are you fucking glowing this morning?”

Seonghwa shrugged his shoulders, still thinking—feeling— Hongjoong’s hands on his waist and arms, the blush on his cheeks never left. “How did we get home last night,” he asked Wooyoung.

“Bullshit. Don’t tell me you don’t remember anything, you look like you had the best sleep of your life,” Maybe Seonghwa did but he wasn’t going to tell Wooyoung why. He only looked at him as he took a sip of his coffee while sitting down at the table in front of Wooyoung. “I dunno actually… Must be Yunho. It’s always Yunho.”

Ahh, that’s right. At the end of the night, as much as everyone wanted to stay longer, Yunho’s early shift this morning had him leaving a little after midnight with Mingi in tow. Yeosang and Jongho were too wasted to keep going and decided to go with them, so everyone did. After putting the cafe back to normal, all of them walked back to the house. All but Hongjoong who, as usual, after receiving a text, stayed out not wanting to end the night.

Just as Seonghwa was about to say something, Yeosang gracefully descended the staircase already dressed and fully made up. The morning light made Seonghwa more envious of how beautiful Yeosang was. The soft brightness of the morning made him glow. He stood with a posture so perfectly aligned it made Seonghwa aware of how he was slouching on his sit. Out of all of them, Yeosang was probably whom Seonghwa never had spoken to as much. Mingi, at least, he had a couple of conversations with while they were at Aurora. But Yeosang? He was too intimidated by his overwhelming presence. It was like there was a barrier of glow around him since the first night they met. Perhaps it was the way Yeosang was always put together in elaborate outfits only someone confident would dare to put together. Perhaps it was how ethereal he looked in his perfectly sculpted his face, his eyes always coloured with contacts. His quiet demeanour and the way he carried himself, with his chin held high, made him seem so mysterious and unreachable that Seonghwa craved what he had.

Somehow, though, the Yeosang that emerged this morning had a friendlier aura, someone Seonghwa could approach. He dared to smile at the Yeosang, to which he smiled back.

“Morning,” Seonghwa, through his nerves, greeted Yeosang and the moving sculpture returned the same expression in his deep captivating voice that cracked at first.

“How the fuck is everyone glowing this morning?” Wooyoung chimed.

Yeosang laughed in his thick amused voice, a lisp escaping his perfect lips. “Baby, you took on two of us last night. I’m surprised you’re not sleeping in.”

That seemed to wake Wooyoung up. He pushed himself up and straightened on his seat stretching his arms around the coffee cup, smiling like a maniac. “I had to pee and I had to catch Joongie before he left again. I didn’t.” He explained.

“What’s up with you and Hongjoong, by the way?” Yeosang said sitting down next to Wooyoung, a cup of coffee in his hands. His coloured eyes wer looking intently at Seonghwa.

“What do you mean?” Seonghwa wasn’t exactly sure if Yeosang was referring to the dance they shared.

“You almost kissed last night,” said Yeosang nonchalantly.

“THEY WHAT?!” ”WE WHAT?!”

Wooyoung and Seonghwa’s voices immediately filled the quiet space together, both eyes were as big as the other. They looked at each other with the same surprised expression.

Kiss? What kiss?

Wooyoung looked at Seonghwa up and down with raised eyebrows, “What do you mean you don’t know?”

Yeosang looked at them baffled at the sudden outburst. If Wooyoung hadn’t sobered up yet, this was it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Seonghwa said settling back on his seat. “We were just dancing.” But Seonghwa was now curious. Had he forgotten something? Had the alcohol taken the rest of his memories after they danced? He racked his brain for any memories of their lips inching closer, but now his imagination was filling in the gaps of the missing images instead.

“You don’t remember?” Yeosang said, his chin resting on the palm of his hands propelling his arms up on the table by the elbow. “While you guys were dancing. It was quite steamy if you ask me.”

Seonghwa looked at Yeosang blankly still recalling nothing. He didn’t know if he looked at Yeosang with pleading eyes to tell him exactly what he saw, but that’s what he was definitely thinking. Yeosang must have heard his silent pleas because he started to say more.

“I was watching you two since you told us you’ve never been kissed. When Wooyoung teased, Hongjoong was never settled. Look, I don’t know what he’s thinking but by the looks of it he definitely wanted to kiss you.” He paused to drink for a little bit. He spoke nonchalantly like it was the most common information everyone and their mothers knew before continuing when no one spoke. “Your foreheads were touching and he was inching. I thought you knew because the way you pushed your head back looked like you had stopped him. He never tried since but his eyes never left you all throughout the night, even when we were heading home.”

Seonghwa’s eyebrows were meeting at the middle of his forehead. He must have been so into his dancing that he didn’t realise Hongjoong was tempted to inch his face closer to him. He pictured their heads on each other’s but… his eyes were closed the whole time, all he could remember was Hongjoong’s hands on his body. His mind deepened remembering the way back home. He, Wooyoung and San were lost in laughter walking behind Yunho and Mingi walking hand in hand ahead. As their minds were taken by the alcohol at that point, he was not aware of who was behind him anymore.

“You really don’t know?” Wooyoung looked at Seonghwa who was now in awe, in shock, in a baffled state. He shook his head in response.

“Would you… would you have let him?” Yeosang asked.

“I don’t know.” Seonghwa replied hesitantly.

“You’re fucking blushing.” Wooyoung pointed out and Seonghwa held his cheeks with his now sweaty unsteady hands.

Seonghwa didn’t know what to think of this. He knew deep down he would have let the charmer take his first kiss, but he was not ready to admit it. He was still trying to deny all the strong feelings he felt whenever Hongjoong was around blaming it on his inexperience, because, honestly, it was all too overwhelming. No one had ever made him feel this way and he’s confused how Hongjoong had that effect on him when he barely knew him. Yes, he liked his smile and his eyes—*oh god those eyes—*but were those enough to warrant feelings for a man who would leave a single wink and then disappear behind a sliding door to be taken by the city lights?

There’s a part of him that liked the idea that maybe Hongjoong, the one who didn’t want to be with anyone, maybe did want him. The way he held his waist last night seemed to say so.

But what if… what if Hongjoong actually only wanted to score a virgin like him? A virgin to basically everything, including his lips. Would he have minded it?

But what if, in all truthfulness, Hongjoong didn’t want him at all? That maybe just as he was about to close their lips together last night, he realised that his inexperience had turned him off. That him being so easy to hold like that was his major turn-off.

“Just so you know,” Wooyoung’s stern voice took him out of his train of thoughts. “Kim Hongjoong’s not the type to settle. If you’re into him with a long-term mindset, I swear to whatever’s out there, it will end badly. Stop now and save yourself the heartache.”

Notes:

What is Hongjoong up to???

I know it's been slow, but heyyyyyyy.... we finally have a glimpse of Matz... it's only the beginning.

Thoughts?

IG: @a.mat__z

Chapter 7: Hongdae

Summary:

Vibrant, wild and glam... Seonghwa finally had his first night out with his friends in the artistic hub of Seoul.

Notes:

WARNING!!! Scenes contain the use of drugs. If you're sensitive to it. Please skip the ** and jump to the next **. But a mention of it still sprinkled in this chapter.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

By the time Seonghwa had his real first night out in Seoul, it had been a month or so since the day he walked from the terminal that tucked his old life away. He had settled enough in Hongjoong’s room that most of his clothes had made it out of his duffel bag and onto the window seat. The charmer barely came home as always and when he did, he took the couch. Most of the time, he came home with a guest, anyway; the sound of someone moaning his name was all Seonghwa needed to know. He often caught the pleasured screams after hanging out in Wooyoung, San, and Yeosang’s room. No matter how much he said he didn’t care, his heart would still clench at the sound. The louder each moan was, the lower and deeper he pushed the idea that the charmer had wanted him.

The times Hongjoong stayed long enough to hang out with them, he barely looked Seonghwa in the eye. His usual flirty antics and the way he used to pull their bodies together disappeared. Hongjoong was more distant, more closed off, more mysterious than before he met him. Hongjoong’s aloofness slightly irritated Seonghwa—if Hongjoong didn’t want him, he’d rather know than tiptoe around him. But Seonghwa did not let this affect him in any way. He’d acknowledge his presence where it’s accepted but did not push further. Instead, Seonghwa continued to learn more about this new life he was enjoying.

He gravitated towards Yeosang’s glamour more and more as days turned to weeks. Every morning he’d find Yeosang elegantly perched on a seat by the only window in their room almost usually with a cigarette between his fingers. When he’s not with a cigarette, he would find him with a vape or a pot depending on his mood (which Seonghwa still couldn’t tell with Yeosang’s more reserved nature than the others). Windows were ajar to let fresh air in, and smoke and ashes out. Whatever sun could shine between buildings across from them dripped down his elegant features. He looked like one of those old glamour types from the black and white movies Seonghwa had seen occasionally at some fundraising event. Disguised as daily coffee-making practice, Seonghwa would bring Yeosang his morning coffee into their room while the heavily sleeping Wooyoung and San still snore in their sleep a few feet away. They’d often keep each other company in silence and occasionally talk about life. There was something about Yeosang’s quiet demeanour and mysterious aura that felt calming to Seonghwa’s changing life. Whatever barrier there was around Yeosang before had vanished and Seonghwa found himself clinging to the beautiful man more and more.

“Why do you smoke,” Seonghwa asked the one random morning he woke up in the trio’s room after getting drunk. It was the first time he found Yeosang looking out the window towards the same view he saw every day from Hongjoong’s room. The park wasn’t as visible in their room than it was from the room above them. When the statuesque man did not show any discomfort of being disrupted in his solitude, he sat gracefully across from him.

“To keep me grounded,” was his simple response.

Yeosang was an art student at the same college San was in and it often forms a different kind of anxiety. Yeosang once said, he would paint because it was his only way to express the loud thoughts he could never verbally articulate otherwise. So much of himself was always put into his art that he would mostly take any sort of feedback too personally whenever they were graded. He never understood how teachers could put a distressing red mark on their work. Yet the thrill of doing something he loved was the only way he could get through having a university qualification, he admitted to Seonghwa. He didn’t believe that university grades were the measure of his artistic skills but college was his only way to leave Pohang, away from his apathetic parents and move to Seoul. The paintings around the house were all his and as Seonghwa studied them, he saw the subtle dynamic lines or colours within the overall minimalistic style of Yeosang’s artistic approach. Much like the quiet yet creative personality Yeosang exudes, so much of his voice were mostly painted in those lines. The more he got to know the reticent creative, the more he realized why there were barely any straight lines on his paintings. If there were any, anyone who looked closer would find the subtle fidget caused by the tremors of his hands.

Yeosang almost had the same familial issues as Seonghwa, and maybe this was how he had gotten closer to the younger one. Just like him, Yeosang’s life had always been laid out for him on a silver platter. He didn’t have to lift a single finger to do anything as long as he focused on his studies. Unlike Seonghwa’s, his parents were more aloof with his life choices. Art wasn’t their first choice of studies for him; law would best suit a child hailed from the Kang family line. All his cousins had some sort of law degree, either by choice or by force. And unlike Seonghwa’s parents, as long as he acquired a university degree, they said nothing of the matter. His choice of partner, however, wasn’t something they took lightly. When Yeosang introduced his first boyfriend to his mother, she lashed out so badly she almost had a heart attack and the boy used it to break up with him. Being with men already was hard for his mother to accept, being part of an open relationship would fully decline her cardiac health. While technically, Yeosang was not in any official relationship, he was always the invited one in Wooyoung and San’s open relationship. Within these walls though, who really cared about technicality. They all loved each other equally. It was Yeosang’s choice not to commit when Wooyoung and San had asked to date him.

Nothing could stop Yeosang, though. He had told Seonghwa that it had become uncomfortable around his parents when they found out way before he knew San, let alone Wooyoung. As soon as he was admitted to college, he moved out and never looked back. Special occasions and the money they sent him for his tuition were his only connection with his parents, and they never looked for him either. Seonghwa admired his relentless determination to live his life, even if it meant he’s now relying on a part-time job at a local art museum for his immediate needs.

Seonghwa had yet to see Yeosang do any painting. He would often watch Yeosang’s creativity through the ways he’d pair strong colours together in his outfits, grounded (or sometimes electrified) by a third and final colour either with an accessory or makeup. Seonghwa’s favourite part of watching Yeosang get ready wasn’t so much that he was always half naked when he’d put make up on—although Seonghwa never complained at the sight of his extremely toned abs and arms. It was when he’d paint his face with make up that kept Seonghwa coming back every morning to hand his statuesque friend his morning dose of caffeine. Most of the time Yeosang kept it simple, but on occasions, when he’d choose to wear a simpler outfit, he’d take out his colourful makeup palette and paint on his face like he was his own personal canvas.

“I need you to teach me how to put make up,” he asked once when he found Yeosang at the vanity in the room he shared with Wooyoung and San, his opened palette and make up brushes were practically everywhere. It brought him closer to Yeosang that soon he picked up some of his interests and habits.

It didn’t take long for Seonghwa to pick up the smoking habit. Only wanting to try it at first, it had easily turned into Seonghwa and Yeosang sharing a smoke every morning. With Wooyoung also just as badly into smoking, usually pot, Seonghwa’s curiosity became more apparent. Wooyoung shoved the plastic device at him the moment he showed signs of interest. At the first few hits, the feeling of weightlessness washed over the tensions in his body he didn’t even know he was holding onto. That was when Seonghwa realized he had carried so much stress and anxiety from his childhood that it had become him.

After a few days of feeling less anxious in the morning, he understood Yeosang’s simple words. The fear of imperfections and inadequacy from his past had stopped anchoring him down and he moved with more confidence with himself than he’d ever felt in his life. His childhood traumas became more of an afterthought than his identity, especially as he found out more about him that he liked day by day. He never relied on the high he’d get at every puff, not needing it every morning the same way Yeosang did. But it was becoming familiar that even just the smell of the strong burning scent of the cigarette or the chemically induced watermelon scent of Yeosang’s favourite vape flavour gave him a bit of that high.

Seonghwa lay on Yeosang’s bed one afternoon, one knee up, the other was crossed over it, reading a trashy romance novel he found downstairs while Yeosang was on the other side with a journal on his lap. They both had their days off and had quietly accompanied each other throughout the day. That quiet presence of each other was so comforting that they didn’t realize just how long they’d been in Yeosang’s lofted sanctuary until Wooyoung burst into the room.

“Get your asses off the bed, we’re going to Hongdae,” Wooyoung barged into their room slapping both Seonghwa and Yeosang anywhere he could. He placed two bottles of beer on the dresser while he chugged on his one. Yeosang groaned from his corner and did not shift. “What?! Fuck, Sangie! Come on, Mingi and Jongho are playing tonight.”

Seonghwa saw Yeosang lift his nose from the journal and looked at Wooyoung blankly. “That’s tonight?”

“What a friend. Yes, it’s tonight!”

“What’s on tonight?” Seonghwa asked lost between the exchange.

“Mingi and Jongho will be busking at Hongdae tonight and we’re going,” Wooyoung now had his face only inches away from his reflection at the mirror sliding a black eyeliner on one of his lids. He pulled back, and blinked his eyes multiple times to check his handy work. He bent down again to try and replicate the same flick on the other side. “We’re going to Eenie Meenie after. Everyone’s going! So get your asses up and get dressed.”

Yeosang started scooting out of his corner to the steps of his loft. He had to be on his knees as the ceiling wasn’t extremely high for a lofted bedroom, but it was enough when bent lower. Really, Yeosang only needed the space when he needed to be alone. Most of the time, he’s snuggled between San and Wooyoung in their bigger bed below the loft anyway.

“Eenie Meenie?” Seonghwa was still confused.

“New club, kinda. Everyone’s starting to know about it now. It’s our favourite spot. Our friend owns it and she DJs occasionally. It’s her night tonight so we have double fun.” Wooyoung looked at Seonghwa who still lay atop Yeosang’s bed like he had not moved since Wooyoung came in. “Hongdae’s not going to you, Hwa, yeknow?!”

Seonghwa sighed and placed the book at his side. He looked at the ceiling for a little while before turning his whole body to look at his two friends huddled close to the mirror. “I have nothing to wear to these types of things.”

**
"What’s that?" Seonghwa added curiously.

Yeosang had taken out a small brown wooden chest, with intricate old Korean floral designs carved on its dark surface, and placed atop the vanity next to his makeup tools. Its contents—a mixture of all sorts of pills, tablets, weed, and other things Seonghwa was unfamiliar with—spilled as Yeosang took the bag of white powder and empty capsules out. The tiny weighing scale on the vanity now made sense as Yeosang carefully poured out a bit of the powder on it before handing it to Wooyoung. He carelessly poured the weighted white powder with his fingers and enclosed it in one of the capsules before popping one through Yeosang’s lips. His fingers ran across Yeosang’s teeth before he placed a soft kiss as though sealing the capsule in his system. Yeosang did the same, a little bit more carefully, his tongue licking Wooyoung’s lips and landing him a kiss.

They both looked at Seonghwa, now descended from Yeosang’s lofted bed, with their cheeks flushed together. “The American we got this from“—Wooyoung held a finger sultrily over his lips in a shhh gesture—“calls it molly. It’s ecstasy. We pop one before we go out clubbing, just makes the night extra fun. Want one?“

Seonghwa looked out curiously at the contents of the chest. Part of him hesitated, completely out of his comfort zone, but a huge part of him wanted to try it, at least once.

Wooyoung must have sensed his growing curiosity. He slipped a couple of candy-looking, smiley embossed tablets, and a few more weighted capsules into his leather pants. “Have one on our way to Eenie Meenie. The effects might take faster for you. We don’t want you running to the first hot guy you see.” He cackled before looking Seonghwa up and down now addressing Seonghwa’s earlier dilemma. “We gotta do something about you looking less whatever this is”—Seonghwa was made aware of how disheveled he looked circling his hands over him—”and more you. Just wear one of ours. I’m sure you’ll fit.”
**

Yeosang was carefully brushing his eyelids with a soft shade of pink when he blinked his contact-coloured eyes wide staring at Seonghwa through the looking glass. He turned his attention to Wooyoung excitedly.

“What?” After drinking almost half of the bottle of beer, Wooyoung questioned noticing Yeosang’s wide eyes.

“Red top,” Yeosang said simply like it meant a lot. It probably did mean something because Wooyoung smirked and practically skipped toward the shared closet. He retrieved what had to be the most breathtaking garment Seonghwa had seen.

It was a solid red corset-like asymmetrical top made with the same red fabric Seonghwa had rescued from Hongjoong’s messy bedroom floor. He took it from Wooyoung and glazed a mesmerized look over it. There’s a certain symmetrical balance juxtaposing the asymmetrical main features it was designed with. A triangular flap was stitched over the entirety of the top edge of the garment falling over across the chest area. The bottom edge or the garment was cut parallel to the edge of the flap, which would reveal one side of the wearer’s waist. These same features were mirrored at the back, except there was a braided black and gold rope criss-crossing diagonally through the width of the garment. Quite a sultry way to add function to the garment. It was embellished with random gold enamels and, upon further inspection, was donned with gold beads and dainty chains like multiple earrings were pierced through the fabric. It travelled all the way through to the back decorating the entirety of the corset. Although it was hoisted up onto the hanger with a black dainty ribbon, the garment itself had no straps to go over the shoulders. It was already thrilling to look at from where it hung. Seonghwa could imagine how breathtaking it would be once it was put on.

“Put it on,” Wooyoung encouraged. “You’d be so fucking gorgeous in that top.”

“Is this—“ Seonghwa trailed still busy hovering over the garment.

“Joongie’s?” Wooyoung chimed proudly. “Hell yeah! He made it for me last year after I begged. I saw something similar, but Joongie’s a fashion genius and he made it better.”

“But I can’t, it’s too beautiful.” Seonghwa tried to shove it back to Wooyoung who pulled his hands away.

“You’re the only one who will compliment that top. Here, wear this, it’ll complete the look.” Yeosang handed him red trousers in the same fabric ignoring the playful pouty glare Wooyoung just gave him. This one was punched with gold eyelets all across the entirety of the pants in the same diagonal line as the flap on the top. It was laced with the same black and gold rope used at the back of the tube top. How had Hongjoong thought of such details, he was in awe.

“Are you sure?” He was already taking his own jeans off eager to try out the pants. Surprisingly, it had fit him like a glove as if he and Wooyoung had the same measurements. The pants weren’t an extremely tight fit, it simply enhanced the contours of his legs. A spiral of tanned skin peeked through the eyelet holes and the gaps between the laces. Apart from the length, the pants were perfect on Seonghwa. He remedied it by unlacing a few holes to which a part of the hem eased and fell a little asymmetrically creating an illusion of length.

Wooyoung whistled handing him the top. Seonghwa slid the eased corset-like top, which Yeosang helped to pull the cords tight it on him. He stopped to admire the whole outfit sitting on his slender frame at the now unoccupied mirror, both Yeosang and Wooyoung looked at him with the same awestruck stare.

“Shit,” Wooyoung said. “Everyone’s going to lose it when they see you.”

 

-------

 

The crowd was already wild when the trio arrived at the spot where Jongho and Mingi’s band were set to play for about an hour or so. Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Seonghwa trudged through the packed streets of Hongdae to meet Yunho and San. The vibrant streets of Hongdae were alive. If almost the entirety of Seoul in the morning was busy and congested with tired hurrying figures in their cellphones and briefcases, Hongdae, especially, was busy in a completely different way at dusk. Seonghwa found the energy to be exciting with neon lights spread across its streets illuminating the darkening sky with all sorts of bright colours. Walls and concrete floors were painted with colourful murals depicting young Korean culture. Restaurants were beginning to fill up as groups from all walks of life came, on a hunt for a good time. Cars had no authoritative presence against the number of people crossing the streets, only really there to either pick up or drop off more groups of people. The youth of South Korea seemed to have all come out tonight dressed to express themselves, looking very beautiful in their own unique ways. The black leather jacket he finished his look with did nothing to stop the envious and sultry stares from people walking past him. He was too engrossed in the vibrancy of his surroundings, that he missed the way people followed him with their eyes.

Hongdae was a hub for the young artists of Seoul. As soon as they got off the bus, Seonghwa saw multiple talents on display as they manoeuvred through the crowd. One area had a solo breakdancer spinning on his makeshift wooden dance floor. Then another was a spot for a group of young men dancing to a famous idol song and not too far, a girl’s group version. There was a solo singer a little further into their walk past the growing crowd and a piano player furthermore. There was even a caricature artist creating cartoon characters of a couple under one of the larger trees in a park nearby.

From where they stood behind the band, it seemed that word had gotten out that they were playing tonight. They looked over the entirety the band’s fans and beyond, which stretched almost to the nearby restaurants, there was almost no space to walk behind. They could see more passers-by looking at the band. Even some from the crowd of the other buskers were looking their way.

“Shit, they’re so good!” Seonghwa, also picking up Wooyoung’s cursing habit, peaked his voice above the music. The band moved from one song to another, a set list that was quite unique with original and covered songs from a diverse genre. Between Mingi’s more alternative punk style and Jongho’s mellow ballad tunes, the two managed to put together a list that made their listeners feel all sorts of emotions. One moment they’d be bopping their heads, jumping to the music, then they’d be swaying to the next. The crowd only grew bigger as the sky closed in and the lantern lights illuminated the full length of the park where they played. Song after song, the crowd only grew bigger.

“This is our last song,” Jongho said and the crowd cooed. “But I know you’ve been waiting for this. I want you all to let loose and enjoy!”

As the first few riffs of the electric guitar filled the air and the drums followed, the crowd cheered wilder. Clearly, everyone knew what the song was and Seonghwa was only beginning to hear it. His head followed the beat feeling the vibrations in his pulses. The music progressed wilder and as soon as Jongho started singing, the crowd followed. Someone random had reached out a hand to Seonghwa and pulled him towards the middle of the space between the band and the crowd. Soon he was encouraged to dance to the music as a few more people followed them in the space. Now more attuned to his body’s movements, he was less shy. Somehow amidst the crowd of unfamiliar faces, he didn’t mind this kind of attention. Perhaps because he was out here ready to have a good time, the fear of people judging had no power over him tonight. He didn’t care if people there would judge him and it honestly felt liberating. The crowd was blurry from his point of view anyway, too in the moment exhilarated by this new energy he’d never felt before. He was too in his element that he did not see Hongjoong arriving watching him in awe of his confidence and recognising his creation and having a new life out of Wooyoung’s closet.

“Yeah! Seonghwa!” Yunho cheered. The man now holding his hand up encouraged him to circle in place, and held his waist to dance to the rhythm. He smiled upon hearing his friend’s encouraging scream.

The music was nearing its end, a strong and wild ending to which the whole crowd cheered and barked. The band stood proudly and took a bow and expressed their appreciation to all who came just as the guitarist prolonged a chord before fully ending. The man dancing with Seonghwa held his waist firmly and whispered to his ear. “Have a fucking good time beautiful. I hope to see you more tonight.”

**
Seonghwa blushed as he made his way back to his friends. Wooyoung, possibly consumed by the effects of the powder he’s taken (or not, Seonghwa couldn’t tell the difference), had his face all over San hungrily making out. He watched as he pushed the same powder-filled capsule in his mouth before concealing it with a series of kisses. Yeosang’s lustful coloured eyes stared at Jongho’s exposed arms carrying the heavy speakers up to the awaiting van nearby. He scanned for the rest of them finding Yunho puffing a cigarette by the side. He locked eyes with Hongjoong who was quiet by Yunho’s side sharing a cigarette. He quickly shook out of his trance and held his heated cheeks as he approached the band first.
**

“I never would have thought to hear you sing that way, Jongho.” He complimented when Jongho returned from the van to pick up more gear. “I remember how you were only singing ballads when we were younger. This gives you a lot of edge. No wonder Yeosang can’t seem to take his eyes off you.”

Jongho flushed his gummy-bear smile as he peeked at Yeosang who had now joined Yunho and Hongjoong for a smoke. “Thanks, hyung. You know what it’s like in Jinju, we’re set a certain way.” The younger one responded. “Mingi wrote most of the music, especially the last one. He’s very accommodating of my range.”

Mingi’s bright smile broke through the dark smudges of his lined eyes as he coiled his guitar wire around his elbow to be placed in the hard case. Seonghwa rarely saw him smile and only usually when Yunho’s around. It was a refreshing sight to see his full lips turn up and exude brightness in his otherwise emptier expressions.

“Will you guys be joining us at Eenie Meenie?” Seonghwa asked and the two nodded enthusiastically.

“Wouldn’t miss a night out with everyone.” Mingi, to Seonghwa’s surprise, said enthusiastically.

Notes:

The outfit I need to see on Seonghwa for real actually. I think I went overboard with the details, but.. it's a perfectly loud outfit made for Wooyoung, that for his Cinderally moment, Seonghwa's wild alter-ago fits the outfit well. This chapter grew on its own. I had this planned to emphasize Yeosang's importance in Seonghwa's life but the extent of it was only an idea. This is how I always see Yoe and Hwa's dynamic anyway, the beautiful and the statuesque.

Drugs, I know, is a touchy subject and I do not encourage the excess use of it. But i also do not want to brush off the reality that it is being used recreationally. We all can be addicted to something that alters our brain (and it certainly could be anything. Even the most harmless things can cause one's addiction). Please if you're occasionally taking drugs, be very mindful and careful. And it's ok to ask for help when needed.

IG: @a.mat__z

Chapter 8: Eenie Meenie Minie Mo

Summary:

This is it... a moment that would change Seonghwa's life

Notes:

The return of a chapter. Sorry it took long. I had so much pressing projects and had a burn out last year that I needed to tend to first. Anyway, please note, there is a use of drugs in the chapter, mentioned in a one of two sentences. I did not mark it, my apologies.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The walk to the club wasn’t long. From where the band played, along the length of the main street, Seonghwa followed the group with Yunho and Mingi ahead of everyone. It’s easy to see them with their towering heights. While most of Hongdae seemed to hop between velvet-lined entrances of the trendier bars and clubs, they went past them without a glance.

“We used to go there before everyone did,” Wooyoung explained nodding his head in the direction of the club with the longest line. Everyone waiting in line looked and dressed the same: polished to perfection. A parade of influencers and their posers clutching their phones, angling for the perfect shot to prove they went and belonged there.

“It’s kinda boring now. They changed DJs and the music… it’s just meh. People only really go to show off.” Wooyoung stuck out his tongue in disgust before spotting a man with hair dyed a fiery red. “Oh hey, babe!” He unlinked his arms around Seonghwa’s and ran crashing his lips onto the new-comer. He shared a look with Jongho beside him who shrugged his shoulders.

Curious, Seonghwa glanced at San, wondering how he might react. He’d never seen either of them with anyone but Yeosang. Seonghwa, though he had no reservations about their open relationship, was still unaccustomed to the idea of having multiple relationships without a hint of jealousy. How they make it seem effortless was beyond him, especially with his upbringing in a monogamous environment. Perhaps it was his preference, but he wasn’t certain yet—since he’d never been in a relationship to know what he would want. Instead of any reaction though, Seonghwa found San completely melted into Yeosang’s arms, their lips locked as they navigated the crowded streets with ease.

Yunho and Mingi turned to an alley that seemed vastly different from Hongdae’s bright vibrant main streets. The alley felt dead in comparison. Garage doors pulled down over closed shops, vandalized with graffiti with no artistic sense. People hardly walked past and if they did, it was to avoid the crowded main streets. There was a single source of life in the otherwise empty alley. The mom-and-pop shop famous for its comfort Korean delicacies bustled with a steady crowd trickling to the outside seats.

“Kombae!” cheered a drunken group, clicking their shot glasses together. They lifted the soju to their lips and shook the emptiness of the glasses over their heads.

No one would think an up-and-coming club would be situated in this quiet part of Hongdae. But as they kept walking, Seonghwa heard music reverberating through the air. The heavy bass felt like an invitation, urging him toward what seemed like an old factory building with large tinted windows and brick walls. Above the doorless entrance was a neon sign in scribbled hand-written font: Eenie Meenie. Seonghwa ascended the stairs softly lit by blue light. One by one, they disappeared behind a yellow door. Black writing spanned across its entirety: Minie Mo, in the same scribbly font. His heart pounded with the loud music as he stepped into a thrilling new scene. The brawny man with an earpiece, standing between the door and the rest of the club, was meant to intimidate new-comers. But with a friendly smile, he nodded Seonghwa inside without hesitation.

Unlike the quiet streets below (even the main street club), Eenie Meenie was alive, pulsing with raw, lustful energy. Seonghwa let Jongho tug him through the cascade of swaying bodies. He was captivated by the sheer openness that filled the club—hands caressing body parts that were often reserved for privacy. The atmosphere was thick and hot as the crowd was lost in the rhythm of their dancing, clothes being lifted, others already shirtless. Across the club, an older—much older—group of people, fully dressed in today’s street clothes radiated just as much raw energy as the younger crowd. He noticed a spectrum of skin colour painting the darkness of the club. All he understood of the clubbing scene from his minimal experience in his earlier college days was similar to the velvet-lined ones of Hongdae’s main street. This was not it. Seonghwa couldn’t help feeling a sense of disorientation as he stepped into a world where boundaries were blurred and inhibition was forgotten. He wasn’t sure how to make of it all, and yet he was thrilled by the scene.

As his gaze swept the crowd, Seonghwa realized people from every walk of life were here, a rare glimpse of true diversity in a country usually defined by conformity. They were turned away from other clubs for their skin, nationality, age, gender, or subculture; in Eenie Meenie individuality was expressed without question. Seonghwa found that there was no polished, perfected cool here—this was chaos and style at its purest, unrefined, and free.

His ears pricked, recognizing the familiar hums of Korean folk music blending effortlessly with electric, almost hypnotic loops of synth sounds. The music here was unlike the typical—it’s thick, experimental, and full of surprises. The sound clung to him like a heated embrace, drawing him deeper into the club as Jongho continued to pull him deeper into the club. A haze of smoke clouded the air, swirling around the neon lights that sliced through the darkness, giving everything an ethereal, sensual glow. From what Seonghwa had heard from Wooyoung earlier, no one could predict what music would fill the space each night—it was always unpredictable.

He was tugged toward a booth, its yellow leather seats framing a round table to one side with a sign atop that said “Eenie Meenie Minie Mo—This spot’s reserved, make another choice, so off you go”. Seonghwa spotted Yunho laughing with Mingi, a lit cigarette passed back and forth between them. San had already dragged Yeosang to the dance floor, leaving Seonghwa to take in the scene, intrigued by how different Eenie Meenie was.

“Where’s Hongjoong?” Jongho asked through the loud music as he sat next to Mingi taking the cigarette from his lips and taking a drag.

Seonghwa’s gaze followed where Yunho nodded at the bar almost instinctively. There Hongjoong was leaning casually against the polished wood, laughing at something his companion had said. He had a hearty laugh, revealing a beautiful set of teeth framed by long wide lips. Seonghwa could see the crowd was just as captivated with him as he was. Their heads turned wanting a glimpse of the city charmer, whispering giggles to their friends at the sight of the blonde man, radiating flirtatious charm.

For the first time that night, Seonghwa allowed himself to really look at Hongjoong, and the sight left him breathless. His refreshed blonde hair was a captivating contrast to all the black he was wearing—black jeans straight and perfectly fitted, black shirt cut low and loose, black leather jacket slung carelessly over his shoulders. The way he stared could send arrows at the heart to anyone who would capture it. He was beautiful and Seonghwa’s heart was beating at a dangerously rapid speed.

He laughed again and this time, Seonghwa’s attention landed on the woman laughing with Hongjoong as they carried drinks back to their booth. She leaned towards him, their shoulders brushed, their connection undeniable, and Seonghwa ignored the tightness that settled in his chest. She had porcelain-smooth skin and long, dark hair tied into playful pigtails under a beanie. Her outfit was so edgy in its mismatched pieces and it made her effortlessly cool. She looked like she belonged in the kind of world Seonghwa only ever admired from a distance. Her confidence was striking—a woman who never doubted her place in any room. It mirrored the way Hongjoong commanded attention without even trying. Together, they seemed impossibly at ease. The woman caught him staring, tilting her head just enough for her rose-tinted glasses to reflect the light reverberating around the club, and looked at Seonghwa through it. The smirk she sent his way wasn’t cruel, but it was sharp, as though she was expecting him. Seonghwa shifted on his feet but could no longer avoid her gaze.

She shimmied closer to them lifting the tray of drinks above people’s heads expertly before placing it on their table. She turned to Seonghwa, her smile warm yet lively, and offered him a pink-coloured drink. “You look like you’d love this. Don’t ask me what’s in it, love, I just asked for something sweet. Chungha.” Her free hand flew to her bare décolletage as she handed him his drink. “You must be Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa’s confusion came with a surprised look. His voice cracked a little, still overwhelmed by her presence. “I, uh, how did- I mean yes. Yes. I’m Seonghwa. It’s nice to meet you.” He said through the blaring music.

Wooyoung draped his arms on Seonghwa’s shoulders lazily when he caught up with the rest of the gang. The man he had kissed earlier was just behind him. “This goddess owns this place.” Seonghwa’s mouth was agape at the realization. Of course, she owned this place.

“And you’re welcome to come anytime, love,” Chungha said without hesitation. “Hongjoong mentioned you the first time he met you—said you were a sight to behold. But I must say, you are out of this world beautiful.”

Seonghwa blushed at the compliment, glancing curiously at Hongjoong, pulled by a couple his friends, it seemed like aside a few moments ago. Seonghwa wondered why he had mentioned him. Why would Hongjoong talk about him given they had an embarrassing first interaction

“Thanks, that’s sweet of you… but, seriously, you are just as gorgeous—probably more. And this place… is insane. I must admit, this is my first time in a club like this. I doubt I fit in,” Seonghwa said.

“Oh, hush! You only need to be you to be here. And well, be the right age. People get turned down by other clubs for the dumbest reasons. I just wanted to give them a place to enjoy themselves. It's all about the music, really.” She said nonchalantly. “And honestly, even I am bored of what’s out there. Let loose, have fun. Judgment doesn’t exist here.” She winked at him before heading toward the DJ booth, her session about to begin.

“She’s fucking cool, right?” Wooyoung said as Seonghwa watched her move, in awe of her. If he could be anything, he wanted to be as effortlessly cool as her. He could swear a path was created wherever she went, stopping to greet people with hugs and kisses. He nodded, meeting Wooyoung’s half-lidded eyes, very much consumed by the powder he took earlier.

Not a moment spared, Wooyoung fully detached himself from the man he’d been with and slung his arms around Seonghwa neck. He was taken aback at the sudden intimate proximity, nearly spilling his drink. Personal space was ignored as Wooyoung pressed his heated body against Seonghwa’s, his thumb brushing his lips. He lowered his drink as his attention was being pulled by Wooyoung’s breath tickling his ears. From his pocket, Wooyoung retrieved the smiley pill and slipped it onto Seonghwa’s misty palm.

“It’s yours to take if you want,” Wooyoung hovered his lips near Seonghwa’s ears before pressing a light kiss behind it sending shivers down Seonghwa’s skin. Without waiting for a response, he tugged the red-haired man to the dance floor.

What’s one try? Seonghwa thought. The pill, hot in his palms, smiled back at him. His mind raced with flashes of his parent’s judgment—their severe disapproval echoing in his mind. He knew the medical effects of ecstasy. Emotions heighten, bringing them to the forefront of anyone’s mind, allowing them to speak and feel honestly. He was also aware of what it does to most minds of people who take it recreationally. It was called the love drug for a reason. Seonghwa glanced down at the pill in his palms once again. He may have imagined it, the pill winking at him, tempting him beyond reason. He lifted his hands to his mouth and quickly swallowed the drug letting it slide through his throat with the rest of the pink cocktail.

With his lithe, inexperienced body, and the alcohol he’d consumed, it didn’t take too long for the substance to take effect, plunging Seonghwa into euphoria. He rubbed the tip of his slender fingers when the tingling started. He slid the leather jacket off his shoulders, and suddenly the room full of grinding bodies and smoky air felt unbearably hot. Although the flickering lights grew more intense, and the hypnotic rhythm of the music pulsed deep in his veins, his mind was dazed. He tried to focus on how electrifying the touch of his fingers felt against his skin—and he wanted more.

Scanning the crowd to find his friends, his eyes easily landed on Hongjoong. His presence was so strong that he stood out from the crowd, even with all that black clothes on him in this mostly dark club. It was especially hard to miss him when he was staring intensely from a couple of booths away, mindlessly listening to people Seonghwa didn’t know. The smile spreading across his face felt as though it was directed to Seonghwa, but he wasn’t entirely sure anymore. His attention had shifted to the growing emotions and the aching need to be held. Ever since he started hanging out with the trio, he longed for the kind of intimacy they effortlessly displayed. Wooyoung and San were never shy about expressing their feelings. More often than not, they’d be making out while Seonghwa and Yeosang were content simply cuddling. Just two friends comfortable in each other’s presence. Neither made a move, and there was never a charged emotion strong enough to push their feelings beyond friendship. To Seonghwa, his admiration for Yeosang was nothing more than deep appreciation—for his aura, his talent, and his friendship. It was never like how he was always left breathless and his heart pounding, when Hongjoong’s piercing stare seemed to bore holes in his soul—as was happening now.

He watched as Hongjoong made an excuse to leave the chatter and… oh god… was he making his way to Seonghwa? His heart was even more intense beneath his chest, the substance amplifying every sensation a hundredfold. He shifted on his feet, debating whether to meet Hongjoong halfway or wait for him to come over. Wait—was Hongjoong really coming toward him? He tried to steady himself with a long, deep breath.

Just as he was about to take a bold step towards Hongjoong, Seonghwa felt hands on his hips, whisking him off course, his body colliding with someone. Before his dazed mind could register what happened, he heard a familiar, soft voice murmur, “I didn’t think I’d see you in a place like this”. It took him a moment to process the voice that brushed against his ears; the proximity—and the breath that tingled his skin—sent a slow, dizzying jolt through him, as if the rest of the club had fallen into slow motion. At that moment, he had missed how Hongjoong abruptly stopped, his gaze lingered—intense laced with something the charmer was unaccustomed to feeling. His attention was now entirely captured by the person before him. “I was wondering all night if it was you.”

With eyes wide, Seonghwa took in the man’s familiar yet slightly different features. The man’s soft-lidded brown eyes, red hair—everything about him looked the same yet there was something new (besides that fiery red dye in his hair that had replaced his natural dark brown hair). Seonghwa couldn’t tell if it was the confidence now prominent in his stance or the change in his style. Gone were his hands always inside the pockets of grease-stained overalls of his factory uniform Seonghwa used to see him in. Tonight, this man had his hands tight around him, dressed in a white tank so fitted it showed the contours of his body, contrasted by dark baggy jeans so wide Seonghwa’s fuzzy mind had to fill the rest with imagination. But that smirk—that smirk so disarming in contrast to his soft features—was ingrained in his memories, impossible to forget. He knew exactly who was holding him.

“Taeyoung? You’re in Seoul?” Seonghwa asked still in awe at facing the only one that made his perfected past more interesting.

“Theo now, actually.” His free hand scratched the back of his neck shyly while the other only tightened around Seonghwa’s hips as though afraid he’d slip away like last time. “Yes, I left a few days after we last saw each other. I had hoped that if things worked out for us, I wouldn’t have to leave.” He still carried that innate shyness, but his words—and the way he paused, eyeing Seonghwa’s body—were bolder now. It made him extremely aware of how different he now looked to Taeyoung from the last day they saw each other, preppy in his button-down white school uniform. He couldn’t decide if the fuzziness he felt in his gut was uncomfortable or exciting. If he had to go by the substance that was taking control of his emotions right now, he was excited by how Taeyoung was gawking at him like he was still in high school. “You look so damn fucking different, like how you should have always been. I knew this was inside all of that white uniform. I’m glad to see you again, Seonghwa.”

Even a with hazy mind, Seonghwa’s thoughts drifted back to the last day he saw Taeyoung at the silk factory. The memory of his firm grip on his thigh, while the other hand pulled him closer, was just as vivid now as though it only happened yesterday. Seonghwa remembered closing his eyes, his heart hammering as he waited for their lips to touch. But just before they could, he pushed Taeyoung, stood up, and ran—terrified of anyone finding out about it. It was the moment he regretted the most out of his carefully perfected life.

“I’m sorry I did that,” Seonghwa said. “It wasn’t you—“

“I know,” Taeyoung’s thumb pressed heavily against his lips silencing the rest of his apology. Taeyoung’s eyes held no secret, hungry to taste the lips that had once slipped away. “Why are you in Seoul and this club of all places? It’s the last place I expected to see you.”

“I ran away,” Seonghwa said, uninhibited by his usual restraint—thanks to his growing self-confidence, and the substance in his system. “I’m not going back.”

Taeyoung’s smile widened, a mix of mischief and pride. His gaze lingered on Seonghwa’s face. “No shit? Finally! You deserve a life of your own, beautiful.” Seonghwa still found himself blushing at the nickname he used to call him back in Jinju and the rough hands that were sliding down his bare arms. “Shall we take it to the dance floor?”

Seonghwa did not push away from his grasp this time. Instead, he welcomed it, allowing his old flame to pull him to the dance floor. He caught sight of Wooyoung somewhere on the dance floor, with someone random this time, his mouth agape and one of his eyebrows raised in excitement. Seonghwa, although he smiled at his friend, only focused on the man he thought would never come back in his life. Perhaps it was fate, or just plain coincidence, that the red-head man Wooyoung was lusting over earlier was the man he was crushing on in high school. The heavy thumping of his heart, pulsated more by the bass of the music, was enough to drive him crazy at the possibility of finishing where they left off.

Heat traveled to his cheeks when Taeyoung spun and wrapped his arms around him from behind. Even when Seonghwa stood slightly taller with his heels, Taeyoung used it to his advantage, pressing his nose into the curve of his neck.

“You smell just as I remembered, just a little bit more… I dunno… delicious.” Taeyoung said with a heavy breath.

A small smirk tugged at Seonghwa’s lips, his heart thumped nervously at the words Taeyoung spoke. He never used to say those words to him and it made Seonghwa feel more wanted. His eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into the man behind him, following Taeyoung’s lead. The rest of the club faded away.

They moved together like that for a while, until Taeyoung finally turned him, his hands heavy against his back. Their eyes met, charged with lust and hunger, their breaths mingling as they leaned in. Without any hesitation, Taeyoung crashed his lips into Seonghwa’s plush ones.

The force of it still took Seonghwa by surprise, but he managed to close his eyes and give in to their long-overdue kiss. This was it—his first kiss, taken by the man he had always imagined to have it. But it was not what he expected.

The Taeyoung he used to know… he had imagined him to taste sweet. This man—Theo, was it? Seonghwa tried to remember—tasted strong, and bitter. Perhaps it was the lingering taste of beer on his tongue coating his lips, as it tried to push between them. It was awkward. Not just because he wasn’t sure if he should part his lips for his eager tongue, but also because they wanted different things. Seonghwa had imagined this countless times, and waited for this very moment. He wanted to take it slow and savor the moment, but Taeyoung wanted to chase something more.

Excited as he was to finally be kissed, it was not the kiss he was waiting for.

Or perhaps, it was not the right man worth waiting for.

Notes:

I had to. For Hongjoong's character to develop. We can't just give him Seonghwa easily. He has to see that Seonghwa can like other dudes. I want Seonghwa to experience being new to everything including giving in to old feelings. Anyone who's been addicted to infatuation would have had this moment of weakness, at least I know I'm speaking from experience. But don't worry, next chapter is full of Matz-ness (finally) and the matz ride begins. I didn't even intend this to be a slow burn.

This chapter was harder to write. All I know about drugs is what I've been told and what I saw depicted in movies. So I tried not to dwell on it long in the chapter. Anyway... Hope you still enjoyed it.

PS. If you're a P1ece... i am too. That why I needed to have one of them in the story. Theo is definitely a sweet dude but when I saw his face, uhhmm I must admit he has that duality in him. So forget all you know about Theo... this is a borrowed name only.

(I will strove for a regular update as I had intended it in the beginning. However, working almost 10hrs a day drains the brain away. But I won't stop until the story is finished. perhap 25 chapters??? Maybe.)

Chapter 9: End of the Beginning

Summary:

A whirlwind of emotions for Seonghwa in a single night.

Notes:

Long one today. Chapter warning: Smut has entered the chatroom. It’s not the smut you want, but it’s the smut that needed to be told so the following ones become more beautiful and delicious.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Seonghwa should have said no.

He would have felt less exposed, less ashamed, if he had just said no. But the drugs—they blurred his boundaries, muting any reason and amplifying only his desire. If only he had a clearer head, he might have thought more with his heart. Not with his dick.

When the awkwardness of their first kiss felt insignificant against the warmth of Theo’s lips against his ears, the prickling warmth of arousal refused to let him think straight. When Theo’s breath grazed his ear and whispered, “let’s get out of here,” Seonghwa let go of any inhibition and followed, intoxicated with more than the drugs in his system.

Now, he found himself half naked in Theo’s bed watching his high school crush lift his shirt off his lean shoulders. Seonghwa wasn’t even sure how Theo had gotten the laces of his corset-style top undone and before he could think to care, Theo leaned in, their breaths mingling. One by one, Theo’s arms were at his sides pinning him in place. When his lips met Seonghwa’s this time, it was slower, more deliberate, but there was still hunger that Seonghwa didn’t know how to reciprocate.

If he had known how this would end, he might have asked questions first. But when the boy he used to fantasized about wanted more than his first kiss—wanted everything—Seonghwa let his desire and longing do the answering. His body responding before he could stop himself. His length twitched in the confines of his pants and his chest burst in heat.

Seonghwa should have said something when Theo pulled his red leather pants along with his underwear. But when his childhood crush licked his lips and met his tongue, he couldn’t even explain the groan that left his voice. It was deep, rumbling in his chest pulled by protests but muffled by pleasure. Theo’s rough palms explored with urgency, sliding past his nipples to the side of his neck. Every touch made Seonghwa feel more exposed and shame lurked behind the pleasure, already beginning to simmer. But he ignored it, focused solely on the pleasure building in his lower abdomen.

He should have asked how this would go before Theo curled his fingers around Seonghwa’s hard length. His hold was firm, making Seonghwa’s spine arch closing the gap between their skins. His hands moved in a rhythm making him harder like it was still possible and he lost all control.

When the sounds of pleasure left Seonghwa’s lips more and more, Theo’s hand drifted lower, fingers slipping between his cheeks. One long finger pressed in—then another. Oh shit. Seonghwa’s sharp gasp filled the air, tensed and unprepared and he didn’t know what to do at that very moment.

“Relax, beautiful… you’re doing incredible. You look so fucking beautiful. I’ve waited so long to have you squirm like this for me.” Theo’s words were much bolder than he remembered him speak. Seonghwa’s stomach flutter, unsure if it was from the compliment or the uncomfortable fingers searching inside him. The softness of his voice juxtaposed the strong words and the urgency of his hands and it made it easier to let go—but only a little.

The rhythm of Theo’s fingers deepened, coaxing sensations Seonghwa had yet to discover. His mind, hazy and tingling, did not register Theo’s fingers withdrawing from him and replaced it with his hard length. A deep, painful groan escaped Seonghwa’s throat when Theo pushed into him with no warning or pause.

Seonghwa grabbed the sheets, his entire body tightening at the burn around Theo’s cock. He tried to focus on the hands at his waist, on the pressure pinning him in place, but his mind were in utter shambles. Between the pleasure and the shame that churned in his mind, he didn’t know how to respond to the conflicting sensations he was feeling. It was everything he wanted and not at the same time. It hurt. Everything fucking hurt and Theo was not easing the pain with kisses or soft words, just thrusting, chasing his own pleasure.

This wasn’t how he imagined it. No one warned him how painful sex could be. But has anyone ever experienced a painful sex?

Theo grunted, stiffened, and then shuddered. It was over. He collapsed onto Seonghwa, his breath ragged and uneven. Seonghwa lay frozen beneath him, waiting for him to show any affection. But after pulling, he only rolled to the side of him, his breathing heavy.

Seonghwa stared at the ceiling his arms starting to close in on him. He kept waiting, but the shame that was whispering earlier was louder now. When it was obvious Theo was done, Seonghwa didn’t dare to think. Instead he forced himself to match the heaviness of Theo’s breathing, convincing himself it was enough.

He had wanted his first time to be something beautiful.

It wasn’t.

Shame came in fast now. For regardless of it being a clumsy, one-side first experience, and even knowing how this would end, knowing it wouldn’t be perfect, Seonghwa still would have said yes.

~

Seonghwa got back home, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Thoughts of his first experience just moments ago churn with shame in his mind. He went over what could have gone wrong that he almost didn’t hear the moans coming from the living room. He stopped cold by the front door when his eyes immediately met with the dark, lustful ones. Caught in the shadows was Hongjoong hovering over a woman whose long dark hair sprawled across the couch’s armrest. There was no hint of irritation at his intrusion. Instead, the back of Seonghwa’s neck prickled as Hongjoong stared—with dark and lustful eyes—as though Seonghwa was the one beneath him.

The sounds of pleasures coming from the woman were insistent, each one landing like a slap on Seonghwa’s sensitive emotions drawing him back into reality. She sounded like she was having fun—unlike Seonghwa’s earlier experience. He certainly did not scream the man’s name when he thrusted inside him. There was no euphoria, no bliss. Just pain and pressure. Just the sound of breath, skin and silence.

His feet faltered. He should have turned around and bolted back outside. He could have used the outside stairs, but the idea never reached him in time. Instead, he stood frozen, watching Hongjoong’s naked ass clenched with every thrust. And Hongjoong—Hongjoong’s dark eyes did not blink away from his and a strange thought came to him uninvited. Would it have been different under Hongjoong’s hands? Would he have screamed like her if Hongjoong—? Shit.

Seonghwa flinched and shook his head to clear his thoughts, but they lingered like a cold fog in a misty night. The moans intensified and Seonghwa’s panic took over. He stumbled forward, desperate to flee and wallow in the shame and embarrassment that was clawing up his throat threatening to shut his airways. Tears pooling at his lids, ready to flow anytime now.

Just before he could reach the stairs, Hongjoong reached out and caught his elbow gently.

“Hey,” Hongjoong said softly. “You okay?”

It was a mistake meeting Hongjoong’s eyes. Concern seemed to have replaced the dark, lustful gaze that was on him earlier. And that voice. So soft, so different from the grunts that escaped him just moments ago. Hongjoong had stopped, ready to detach himself from her but she clung to him. She gave Seonghwa a look, annoyed.

“Baby, baby,” the woman said, cupping Hongjoong’s face pulling his attention back to her. “Don’t stop. I’m close. Baby, eyes on me.”

“Sorry,” Seonghwa mumbled. A single tear slid free and he yanked his arms and ran taking two steps at a time.

Cold water gushed through the spout as soon as he reached the bathroom and twisted the faucet open. He splashed water against his face desperate to drown the tears and everything else with it—the embarrassment, the shame, the pain. His reflection stared back at him—red-eyed and trembling lips. He was still wearing the Hongjoong original Wooyoung made hime wear for the night. It really was beautiful, but it felt so wrong on him now.

I’ll call you, he remembered Theo’s neutral voice in his head. It was the last thing he said before Seonghwa stumbled out of his door, his top unlaced and only secured under his arms.

No he won’t, and Seonghwa knew that.

Seonghwa looked at his reflection in the mirror one final time wiping the dripping water off his chin with the back of his hand. He held on to whatever dignity he had left and stepped out of the bathroom.

“What the f—,” Seonghwa gasped. Hongjoong was sitting at the edge of the bed then quickly stood up, his expression almost… worried.

“Hey,” he said. “Are you alright? You looked like you were…” Seonghwa waited for him to finish but his shame already did it for him. He caught his lower lip with his teeth to keep the sobs from leaking out.

“What are you doing up here?” Seonghwa asked, brushing past the blond man to crouch near his folded clothes. He pulled a fading black t-shirt and slipped it over his bare torso. He wanted to get out of the sticky leather pants so badly, but he didn’t want to get naked in front of another man again. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Hongjoong said. “I asked her to leave.”

Seonghwa blinked, stunned. He looked at him with utter disbelief. “What?! Seriously? You didn’t even let her stay?” His voice quivered with emotions he couldn’t hide sympathizing with the woman that must have left this house the same way he did Theo’s.

“I don’t let anyone stay,” Hongjoong said flatly. “It gives the wrong impression and they know it.”

“Well that’s fucked up,”

“Why are you upset?” Hongjoong ignored his comment.

“I’m not,” Seonghwa lied. It was in the way his voice cracked and the relentless rummaging in his empty duffle bag avoiding Hongjoong’s eyes.

“Yes, you are,” Hongjoong insisted but with a soft voice. When Seonghwa did not respond, Hongjoong continued, his voice dark and stern this time. “What did he do?”

“Nothing,” that wasn’t a lie. “We just had sex that’s all.”

“Then why are you upset?”

“I said I’m not!” It was forceful than he intended. He cleared his throat desperate to hide his emotions. “I… I didn’t want to stay.”

Hongjoong stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Seonghwa tugged away wrapping his arms around his knees.

“That bastard—”

“He did nothing,” Seonghwa said, grabbing hold of Hongjoong’s wrist, fist clenched tightly. “I’m just embarrassed, okay?” He let go of Hongjoong and replaced his arm back around his knees feeling smaller. “It started good. I was excited. But then…”

He trailed off. The memory lingered on his skin before continuing. “I was just embarrassed. He got off, got dressed—and asked me to close the doors after I cleaned up.”

Seonghwa watched as Hongjoong’s jaw tightened when he looked up to face him.

“I know you probably find this dramatic, but it’s already humiliating. So please, I would appreciate you go back to the city and let me deal with this—.”

He closed in on himself further, his chin digging onto his forearm. Isolated—just like he always was. Seonghwa was used to solitude, too afraid to be found imperfect. Tonight confirmed his worst fear: his flaws and inexperience were too much. Even Theo, whom he thought would accept him if he had shown himself fully, recoiled. He wouldn’t be surprised if the blonde man behind him turned on his heels and did the same.

Hongjoong’s footsteps shifted, soft against the hardwood floor. Seonghwa listened to the echoes of him retreat. Then it stopped.

He stayed. His presence so close behind him.

A hand reached out, inviting and warm, hovering over Seonghwa’s shoulder waiting for him to accept.

“Come with me?”

~

“Are you going to kill me? Look, if you’re going to need your room back, just let me know. I’ll squeeze myself in Yeosang’s loft. He barely uses it at night anyway,” Seonghwa didn’t know why he was powerless against beautiful men. When Hongjoong asked him to come with him, he held out a hesitant hand but he still obliged. And now he was following the charmer along the labyrinth of their neighborhood. The typical noise of the city Seonghwa was starting to get accustomed to was not as loud here. The whispers of the wind were stronger in the quieter little streets between endless. One alley after another, and still he followed despite the uneasiness, amplifying the chill in Seonghwa’s skin.

“No. I haven’t kissed you yet.” There he was, the charmer he knew, chuckling at Seonghwa’s paranoia. His hands were still shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket when he turned to walk backwards. He smiled that devastatingly beautiful smile of his.

“Where are you taking me, anyway?” Seonghwa hoped the shadows cast by the moon hid the blush that crept over his cheeks.

Seonghwa hadn’t realize how beautiful their neighborhood really was. Amidst the unending winding alleys was a quiet walkway stretched far ahead Seonghwa couldn’t see where the street would turn a different direction. Fairy lights lit overhead softly illuminating the brick road beautifully laid out into an arching pattern. Art galleries, cozy cafes, and aesthetic shops lined both sides, and the little alleys branching out, each one humming with the quiet charm of night. The path was bifurcated by benches and enormous potted plants. It was more like a place to hang out, slow down and relax and Seonghwa noticed Hongjoong walking slower as he faced forwards again.

“I didn’t know this was just around here,” Seonghwa finally spoke. He had taken as many shifts as Minjun could possibly give him that he never really took the time to explore the neighborhood, let alone the city.

The charmer only smiled in response. He run a hand over his hair before tucking his hand back into the pocket of his jacket. Seonghwa’s eyes lingered on him watching the charmer walked with his eyes to the ground, kicking imaginary pebbles. After a while, their attention simultaneously went to the mural on the walls of the buildings they were passing by.

“I come here at night when I need to get away from the chaos,” Seonghwa listened to the roughness in Hongjoong’s voice, but it oddly had a gentleness to it. “It’s nothing special. By morning, it’ll be packed with students, workers and lovers. But at night, it’s…” He paused, taking a slow breath, as if he was unsure if he was sharing too much to Seonghwa. “It’s calm in a way most places in the city aren’t. I think it’s the artistry.”

Seonghwa agreed with a nod understanding the calmness that it provides. “The coziness too, like there’s a common unspoken agreement to keep the space quiet and clean.”

There was silence between them as they continued to walk at a much slower pace. “This is where Wooyoung and I met. It was not like this back then. We were, what… twelve?”

“You’ve known each other that long,” he wanted to asked but somehow it came out as though he was stating facts. It was in how they treated and spoke to each other. Wooyoung knew Hongjoong well and perhaps, the charmer knew the wild child just as much.

“We became friends since.” Hongjoong confirmed anyway. “This city was basically our playground.” One corner of Seonghwa’s lips lifted as he remembered the same words coming from Wooyoung once when they first met.

“What made you two very close?”

“Guess we had the same interests. He was taking pictures of a shop that I liked. Had his first camera—didn’t know what he was doing yet. I asked him why he was taking photos and he just shrugged, said, ‘Why the hell not?’” Seonghwa watched his long lips softly curved upwards. “But I asked him what he liked about it. He said it had a unique charm-beautiful in its randomness and it stood out to him. I knew then he was the type that had a mind of his own, and I liked that.”

“What did it sell?” Seonghwa was curious.

“It was a vintage shop. Mostly clothes, but it had other things too. Not just old unwanted junk—it was curated. Every piece had craftsmanship, or an edge.” Hongjoong explained, his voice much quieter, eyes still on the ground, like he was vocalizing his thoughts to no one. But Seonghwa noticed the chill and nonchalance in his charm being replaced by something warm. The kind of warmth that only good memories bring.

“Do you still visit this shop?” Seonghwa was curious to see what’s in it, to see the little treasures that would emerge from this little space.

Hongjoong simply shook his head. Seonghwa waited for Hongjoong to continue but he saw a glimpse of the frown that flickered his features closing the topic at that.

One foot in front of the other, silence fell upon them for a moment. With his hands clasped together behind him, Seonghwa walked ahead of Hongjoong as though the charmer allowed him to lead the way. He could feel his gaze caressing the back of his neck, his pounding heart nervous at the proximity of the man that always took his breath away. He turned his attention at his surrounding to distract him. He realized he may not enjoyed his life in Jinju, but the serenity of that city was something he missed. This was close.

“How are you feeling?” Hongjoong finally spoke.

Seonghwa’s head turned to look past his shoulder and met a pair of soft eyes filled with concern. It was more caramel under the fairy lights, sweeter than the dark gaze he was starting to get accustomed to. The look on Seonghwa’s face didn’t hide the surprise and confusion he felt at the question. He didn’t think Hongjoong pulled him out of the house to talk about his feelings. He didn’t seem to be the type. Seonghwa drew out a heavy breath opening the doors of his feelings and let the heaviness of his embarrassment and insecurities settle in the pit of his stomach leaving the rest of him empty.

Before Seonghwa could even come up with anything to say, the charmer lifted an eyebrow and spoke. “You do understand it’s not you, though, right?”

“I don’t think I can blame him for—” Seonghwa tried to rationalize.

“No, I mean the drugs…” Hongjoong immediately but gently interrupted to clarify. “You took MDMA. I was watching you. I bet you thought that thing winked at you.”

How the fuck did he…? Seonghwa felt exposed under Hongjoong’s words and instinctively lifted his hands to his arms crossed at the chest. He said nothing, instead sucked his lower lips between his teeth when Hongjoong continued.

“That thing’ll lift you into the clouds and crush you into a sudden rush of cold, dark emptiness even when you’re not emotional. And that mother fucker… I swear I could…”—he took a deep breath—“He should have taken cared of you, Seonghwa. Not made it worse.”

Seonghwa felt the weight of his words in his reality. He had blamed himself for how his first experience went. If only he knew what he was doing, if only he didn’t let his emotions and desire take his control, if only he had spoken to Theo of his expectations, if only he didn’t let his desire for the man take over, if only he had been less inexperienced, if only he hadn’t been sheltered all his life… if only… The thought that he had ruined a chance with his childhood crush rushed to him. So many if-onlys that bounced around Seonghwa’s mind since he left Theo’s place and it brought him into a downward spiral of shame.

“Why do you care?” It was an innocent question. Seonghwa saw the slight flinch in Hongjoong’s expression caught off guard, but Seonghwa was simply confused. Before this, they never had a decent conversation to call each other friends. Their interactions were always so brief often acknowledged with either a nod, a gaze or Hongjoong’s touches Seonghwa didn’t know how to interpret, especially since it had ceased since their almost kiss. Hongjoong walking with him in the middle of the night was confusing enough, let alone him vocalizing his concerns.

“I mean, I came to think that you hate me. You’ve been avoiding me for a while. Maybe because I’m too, I don’t know, boring or annoying or uninteresting… or maybe because I took your room…” Seonghwa quickly added when he realized the question had stung the man who practically got his date to leave just to check up on him.

Hongjoong chuckled before Seonghwa could continue with his verbal train of thought. “I could kiss you right now. That’s how much I don’t hate you.”

That silenced his babbling, surprise and confusion were a cocktail of emotions in his heart. “Why won’t you?” Again, it was an innocent question. Was it the drugs making him less anxious to ask the question? Perhaps, but when would Seonghwa have another chance to speak with the charmer like this?

Hongjoong didn’t answer yet. “You’re still high,” was all the charmer responded.

Seongwa waited for him to continue, but when it became clear he wasn’t going to say anything else, he broke the silence. “What if I’m not. What if I’m completely sober right now.”

“I won’t take advantage of you. I won’t kiss you when you and I did not agree to it before taking any drugs.”

Seonghwa’s lips parted, but no words came out. His heart swelled at the tenderness in those words—it was all he wished was present when Theo fuck him earlier. Somehow, the person he was warned about multiple times had shown him more gentleness and he hasn’t touched his lips with his yet.

“You can’t possibly know what I want. Or maybe… you’re telling that to yourself.” Seonghwa challenged.

“Maybe. But no…” Hongjoong insisted firmly. He finally looked up and his soft brown eyes met Seonghwa’s curious gaze. ”I don’t want you to regret it in the morning.”

The city charmer—who had tasted many others—didn’t want him to regret the touch of his lips. The warnings he got from his friends were clear: Hongjoong waves a dark, raging crimson flag. So why was the charmer out here walking this quiet charming street with him? Why did the supposedly walking red flag want Seonghwa cared for? Why was the one most likely to hurt him the same person trying to protect him?Why was he here reaching his hands out to Seonghwa and not wanting him to regret if he ever kissed him?

As if the questions were written on his face, Hongjoong sighed dropping his hand to his side, voice quiet, the weight of his honesty softening the air between them. “Seonghwa…” he sighed again, as though unsure how to say what he was thinking. “I know it’s confusing. I’m fucking confused as well. But you… you see the world so differently from how I see it. You look at my reality—the sex, the drugs, the streets—you see them with excitement I don’t understand. To me, those were things I need to cope in this fucked up life. You don’t want me, not really. You don’t want me to ruin what could be a beautiful experience for you.”

Seonghwa’s eyes narrowed, indignant at his words. He was done with what-ifs. His curiosity, no longer content to sit quietly, stirred the boldness simmering just beneath the surface.

“It already has been,” he snapped. “Why are you—?” He caught himself, then continued, steadier. “Look… I’ve had enough of people telling me what to do, what to think, and what to feel. I left everything I knew so I can choose whatever experience I want for myself. Whatever it is you think you’re doing for me. Stop. Don’t use me to redeem yourself of whatever it is you think you’ve done. Hongjoong, I’m no saint. I’m inexperienced… but I’m not an angel.”

“Fuck… I really could kiss you right now,” said the charmer after a while drawing out a breath as though he had been holding it the whole time Seonghwa spoke.

The silence between them stretched long as they gazed at each other’s eyes. Seonghwa’s eyes shifted to something softer, realizing he had spoken out of character but it damn felt good to speak his mind. “I’m not going to apologi—“

“You are so exquisite—have I said that yet?” Hongjoong cut him abruptly, speaking as though the charmer wanted—no, needed—to say it. “You need to know how fucking astonishing you are.”

When Seonghwa’s lips parted, and no words left his lips once again, the charmer took his hands in his. Seonghwa ignored that loud beating of his heart when the charmer threaded his fingers against his, allowing himself to follow the charmer one more time. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

They walked briskly past more random shops and cafes. Seonghwa’s longer legs tried to keep up with Hongjoong’s more frantic fast strides. “Ever since I saw you I had wanted to do many things for you,” the charmer continued walking faster. “When I saw you in that red outfit, fuck… you have no idea how devastating you were. So I was hoping you’d yes to something.”

Seonghwa was pulled to a stop in front of a window when Hongjoong abruptly halted at a closed clothing store. The charmer closed his palms at Seonghwa’s waist placing himself behind his taller frame and guided him into a position where he could clearly see his reflection at the window. Behind it, a headless mannequin styled in intricate pieces of clothing that shouldn’t go together and yet it made sense. “I actually hated making that red outfit. If it wasn’t for Wooyoung’s relentless persuasion I wouldn’t have finished it. Oh how fucking glad I made it.”

Seonghwa’s eyes locked in on Hongjoong’s dark gaze and made his heart even more frantic behind the confines of his ribs. His palms were tighter and warmer on his waist. He stood perfectly aligned with the mannequin and, at that moment, he shared Hongjoong’s vision. The next words the charmer spoke had him suck in his breath and nodded.

“Park Seonghwa, will you be my muse?”

Notes:

I know.

Hope you liked it. This was probably the most edited chapter thus far. If last one was harder to write, having no experience in drugs at all. This one needed to flow well to start their relationship beautifully. And for that to happen, Theo had to happen first.

The many times Hongjoong resisted but kept saying he wanted to kiss Seonghwa… yeah. That got me too while writing it.

The one line I knew from the beginning of writing this chapter had to be said was “You do understand it’s not you, though, right?” said by Hongjoong about the drugs. The surprising thing I learned about ecstasy while doing research was that it really tugs in your emotions and depression is mostly felt afterwards at least for some people. You go from feeling so ecstatic (hence the name) to the opposite. That line has so much love and care for someone who is crippled by perfectionism and be told that it isn’t your fault but not put the blame on another.

See you on the next one.