Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Hong Jisoo.”

The speaker was not a guest. He was a stranger. At least that was true for the name’s owner who looked up and blinked at the figure standing in front of him—a young man with an impish smile. His left hand was tucked comfortably in his pocket while the other placed itself on the table. He seemed entirely comfortable, not unlike most people in an old library. 

“Nobody calls me that except my mother,” the other one replied guardedly. He wasn’t exactly caught in headlights, but nonetheless his eyes reminded people of a deer. 

“Oh?” 

The stranger tilted his head slightly. He wasn’t perturbed by the response. Entertained, more like. 

“Well, are you Joshua Hong then? Pre-med? Fencing?”

Joshua’s eyebrows met in the middle. He was sure he should be highly-concerned. He was good with faces. Good at giving labels to figures. He would have certainly known if he’s met someone before. Let alone someone whose first instinct was to call him Hong Jisoo. 

“Do I know you?” Joshua asked. 

“Not yet,” the other one replied, flavoured with smugness. “But Jackson told me about you.”

The young man had been at Stanford for some months now. The thrill of flaunting life in California wore off. Views of towering redwood were replaced by dread of ground up and pressed pulp stacking up instead. He could understand English well enough to navigate conversations at charity balls and campaign fundraisers, but academic discourse had him floundering. 

“So,” Jackson said as he finished mashed potatoes off his plate, “any luck yet?”

Jackson Wang was the first person Yoon Jeonghan met in Stanford. He was in one of his classes and invited him to join that society for international students. Like Jeonghan, Jackson carried himself with confidence which was partially sourced from having to be around too many sycophants.

Instead of Seoul, Jackson had come all the way from Hong Kong—not because of an exchange program, but because he felt like going through the painstaking process of the American admissions system. Stanford had been his choice from the start, out of his own volition. 

“Not really,” Jeonghan sighed, setting his fork down. “I get by, but sometimes the texts are on another level.”

“Yeah, man. It can be a pain.”

Jeonghan offered a smile. “Thanks.”

“Actually,” Jackson tapped his fingers thoughtfully against the cafeteria table. “I know a guy who might be able to help, he’s really nice so I think he would.”

“Who?”

“Joshua Hong. He’s on the fencing team too, Korean-American, pretty good at code-switching. I’ve heard his mum call him Jisoo though.”

Jeonghan’s eyebrows lifted. “Joshua Hong... is he in one of our classes?”

“Nope, pre-med,” Jackson shook his head. 

Jeonghan pulled out his phone and quickly opened an app then typed into the search bar.

Jackson watched with a half-amused but all knowing smile. “You won’t have any luck with that.”

“Why?”

“No Twitter. No Facebook. No Instagram.”

“How am I supposed to contact him, then?”

“The old-fashioned way,” Jackson responded. 

“Do you have his number?” Jeonghan enquired. 

Jackson chuckled, too amused at Jeonghan’s confusion. “I do, but he doesn’t really like it when other people give it out.”

Jeonghan frowned. “Why, is he some kind of royalty?”

“Not exactly, but he’s just being careful.”

“What for?”

“Not my story to tell,” Jackson said.  “Just thought I’d give you a heads up.” 

“So how can I get to him?”

“Like I said. The old-fashioned way. If you want to reach out to him, your best bet is to email him through the university system, find him in the fencing salle, or the library.”

And that, Jeonghan did. 

After some time of asking, Jeonghan had finally tracked Joshua down in the corner of the library. He was buried in a book drawn with configurations that don’t exactly have anything to do with chickens but supposedly looked like chicken wires or some kind of chair. He wore a plaid shirt. Practical, like he is. His posture was straight, and most definitely guarded. 

“I’m Yoon Jeonghan,” he began politely. “Exchange student from Yonsei. I’m in Jackson’s Media and Politics class. He mentioned you’re Korean-American?”

“Okay, I am,” Joshua said cautiously. “What do you want?”

“I need some help practising English,” Jeonghan explained. “I’m going to be here for a while, and I thought it’d be useful to learn from someone who’s fluent in both languages.”

Joshua’s eyes moved slowly from Jeonghan’s face down to his shoes. The neatly pressed shirt. The full-grain leather shoes. The watch peeking out from under his cuff. It probably alone costs more than his entire life’s education. Even his scent. Fir resin and cedar. It was subtle but distinct, something Joshua only found in the boutiques of Beverly Hills.

“I’m sure you can just pay for a tutor,” Joshua said flatly with politeness. 

“I could do that but I prefer to learn from someone my age.” Jeonghan admitted, “Besides, none of the tutors I’ve found nearby speak both languages. And honestly,” he added with a light chuckle, “a lot of them seem like scammers.”

“I get that,” Joshua parried. “But I’m really not in a position to help.”

“I can pay you,” Jeonghan offered. “Whatever your rate is, I’m willing to match it. Send me your bank details.”

For a moment, there was a flicker of something in Joshua’s expression—either temptation or repugnance. But just as quickly, his expression returned to its indecipherable state. 

“I appreciate the offer,” Joshua replied firmly. “But the Olympic trials are in two years and I can’t afford any distractions.”

Joshua paused then added, “I’m sure there are others who would be happy to take you up on your offer.”

“I understand you’re busy, but it’s just an hour or two a week. You get some money, and I get the help I need.”

Joshua shook his head. “I’m really not interested, Yoon Jeonghan,” he said succinctly.

He began to gather his things then stood up. 

“Thanks for the offer, though,” he added before turning around and walking. “I wish you the best in finding someone who can help.” 

”Not interested, huh?” Jeonghan found himself repeating the words he said. Most people would take rejection from most people lightly, moving on as quickly as when a barista tells them they’re out of coffee. Yoon Jeonghan would but it seems like Joshua Hong wasn't like most people.

Jeonghan smirked. It didn’t sting. Rather, it amused him. Interesting enough, Joshua had turned him down not with pride but polite disinterest.

Usually, people bent the knee. Especially to his name, money, and to the unsaid rules of social order. They believed that it was a risk not to and gain favour to do. Joshua Hong, on the other hand, didn’t care. 

Joshua Hong was a puzzle. The kind that required to be solved when started. Joshua Hong from pre-med. Joshua Hong the foil fencer. Joshua Hong with those doe eyes that seemed on guard. Joshua Hong who said ‘no’ without flinching.

There was no performance. No show of interest, no attempt to please or impress. 

Jeonghan’s smirk widened a little, then crossed his arms. If there was one thing he learned, it was that opportunities with people are a lot like letters—what you get depends when and how you make sense of them. 

Interesting indeed. 

🤺⚔

ALLEZ!

Joshua thrust forward with an aggressive lunge. His foil sliced through the air with a sharp thwack which had everyone eyes wide and mouths gaped open. The swift motion caught his opponent off guard, nearly knocking him back as he scrambled.

“Woah,” Jackson exclaimed, pausing in his own practice bout to watch Joshua uncharacteristically proceed with an attack. “I thought I was the one in sabre, not you. What’s gotten into you?”

Joshua straightened up. He yanked off his mask and lowered his foil. As he pushed back his hair, he looked a lot unlike himself. Unrelaxed and too tense. 

“It’s that friend of yours,” Joshua muttered, almost stomping off the strip. “Yoon Jeonghan. He’s everywhere. It’s driving me nuts.”

Jackson couldn’t help but grin. It was the first time he saw Joshua so rattled like this. Joshua was always the one who had everything under control—gentle, calm, and kind. Even in moments of pressure, he never lost his cool. It was a rare sight. And it amused everyone around him. 

Jackson leaned down on the bench as he dropped down his guard and sabre. “Jeonghan? Really?” He let out a small chuckle which caused his shoulders to shake. “What’s he doing that’s got you so worked up?”

Joshua massaged his jaw as he felt it tightening. “He just won’t leave me alone.”

Joshua exhaled sharply. It wasn’t like him to get worked up over something—or rather, someone. People usually described him that way. And they were right. Except now, they weren’t.

Joshua sat hunched over his notes at the study hall trying to make sense of endless chapters on biochemistry and genetics. He was having the time of his life as he didn’t actually struggle to understand it at all. Then, he was disrupted. 

“Hi!”

The voice was too bright. Blinding even. He didn’t even have to look up. He knew who it belonged to. After all, he'd come up, say hello like that every two business days or so. 

“Yoon Jeonghan,” Joshua said with a sigh. “This is a study hall.”

Jeonghan slid into the chair across from him with a grin. “I know. And I’m a student, just like you. So I’m allowed to be here, eh?”

Joshua bit his lip as he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He silently prayed, hoping it would make Yoon Jeonghan disappear. “There are other seats,” he pointed out. “You don’t have to sit here.”

Jeonghan didn’t seem to hear—or he did but didn’t give a damn about it. He shrugged, which Joshua found unnerving. “I don’t know them though.”

“I’m not here to have fun,” Joshua responded as he bit his lip. “I’m here to get work done.”

“Alright,” Jeonghan chuckled, as he leaned back into his chair. “I’ll keep quiet. You won’t even notice I’m here.”

Though of course, Joshua noticed. Yoon Jeonghan kept quiet, alright, but he also stared like Joshua was the only spectacle in the room, like he was trying to drill some burr holes. It was enough to make Joshua grit his teeth in pure indignation.

A few days later, Joshua found himself alone in the chemistry lab. It was far from liberal arts, far from Yoon Jeonghan’s intrusions. Or so he thought it was.

“Bonjour, Monsieur Joshua Lavoisier.”

Joshua froze mid-experiment. Slowly, he turned hoping not to see whom he knew he would. Of course. Once more, it was Yoon Jeonghan standing at the door, grinning as if the lab was his natural habitat.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Joshua said flatly. “You’re not a science major.”

Jeonghan sauntered in. “How do you know that?”

Joshua blinked. “Well, are you?”

“Political Science.” Jeonghan shrugged. “I just happened to be in the conference room next door for a meeting with the International Students Society, passed by, and saw you here.”

Joshua let out something in between a groan and a sigh. “Of course, you did.”

Jeonghan scanned around before stepping a bit closer. His expression turned bright, as if he almost heard a lightbulb ping. “Or maybe I’m just here because we have Chemistry, you and me, like Pierre and Marie.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep. I could be your Pierre, you could be Marie. Or we can switch, it doesn’t matter. I’m flexible. We can win a Nobel Prize in Chemistry , or an Ig Nobel if you’d like.”

Joshua cringed visibly. He rubbed his temples in an attempt to erase just what he heard from his memory. “First of all, Pierre won in Physics. Second, that’s just... please don’t.”

“Physics! That’s even better. Soon enough, I’ll be pulling you in with my magnetic attraction.”

“More like repulsion.” 

Jeonghan shrugged, undeterred by the comment. “Repulsion, attraction—at the end of the day, it’s just pull and push, Joshuji.”

Joshua blinked twice, scrunched his forehead. “Who the hell is Joshuji?”

Jeonghan tilted his head. His eyes relaxed in what seemed like innocence as if Joshua should have gotten it. “You, of course.”

Joshua blinked twice. His field of view slightly slit as he tried to make it make sense. He shook his head, parted his lips in disbelief.

“How did you even come up with that?”

Jeonghan shrugged like it explained some things. “You look like a Joshuji. It suits you.”

Joshua’s brow furrowed. “What does that even mean?”

“Doesn’t have to mean anything. Besides, it’s cute like you.”

Joshua groaned. He went behind one of the counters to distance himself from the sheer absurdity. “I regret ever asking.”

Sometime later in the week, Joshua found himself sitting in the corner of the university cafeteria. While the chatter of complaints and air of noise charged with redbull provided some comfort, Joshua had chosen a spot far from most of the noise. It was peaceful, at least. Compared to how his life has been for the past few weeks. 

“Mind if I sit here?”

Once again, Joshua didn’t even need to look up. He knew who it was. He sighed, already resigned to his fate. “Yoon Jeonghan-nim,” he exasperatedly said.

Jeonghan invited himself to sit, with tray in hand set down. “Wow, so formal, Joshuji. You don’t have to be so cold.”

“Why are you here, Yoon Jeonghan?”

“I heard the food in this hall was decent,” Jeonghan smiled, ignoring the tone of the other one’s voice. 

“There’s a lot of free seats you know,” Joshua retorted, emulating a thunderbolt.

“Exactly. Like the ones right here,” Jeonghan replied breezily as he gestured beside him. He took a bite of his burrito, and sipped on some juice which only brewed low-pressure areas even more. “You look way too serious for lunch. Lighten up, Joshuji.”

“It’s Joshua.”

“If you say so, Joshuji.”

That’s how Joshua Hong learned, there was no reasoning with him in this case. For the next few days, he tried his best to evade him. 

But, of course as usual, the universe or Yoon Jeonghan himself had other plans.

It was early morning, and Joshua found himself on his usual jogging route. Running cleared his mind. It gave him a break as he could detach from the world—and from people like Yoon Jeonghan.

As Joshua made some rounds, he spotted a familiar figure ahead. Of course he’s here.

Joshua quickened his pace until he was beside him. “What are you doing here, Yoon Jeonghan?”

“Good morning to you, too, Joshuji.”

Joshua scowled. “You don’t jog.”

Jeonghan shrugged mid-stride. “Maybe I’ve started. Plus, it’s a public route. Anyone can use it.”

“You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Doing what?”

“Showing up everywhere,” Joshua said as he gritted his teeth. He tried to keep his pace steady despite whatever it was bubbling inside him. 

Jeonghan grinned, clearly enjoying how Joshua approached him. “Hey, it’s not my fault we keep crossing paths, Joshuji. I thought we were friends.”

“We’re not friends.”

“Not yet,” Jeonghan corrected as if he were giving out his actual birthday. “But give it time. You’ll come around.”

“I won’t,” Joshua muttered as he shook his head. “And stop calling me that.”

“Joshuji? You’ll get used to it,” Jeonghan declared. “I know you’ll come to love it.”

Joshua groaned and then quickened his pace again to distance himself. But even as he jogged ahead, he had a feeling that Yoon Jeonghan wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“You know,” Jackson began, “it’s kind of funny.”

“What is?”

“Jeonghan,” Jackson leaned back. “He doesn’t strike me as the type to disturb anyone.” Jackson shook his head. 

Joshua sighed, rubbing his temple hoping it could ease what he was thinking. “I don’t get it. I didn’t even do anything.”

“Didn’t you reject him asking you to help him in English or something?”

“Yeah, but isn’t he doing too much?” Joshua muttered. “Most people would’ve moved on.”

“Most people, for sure,” Jackson said. “But Jeonghan’s not like that with you.”

Joshua groaned again.

“What’s even more amusing is that usually, nothing gets to you,” Jackson said. “But it’s like he gets under your skin so easily.”

Joshua shot Jackson a sharp look. It was true. Joshua was known as someone who never runs out of patience. At least, to people who aren’t Yoon Jeonghan. “Thanks,” he said with much sarcasm. 

Jackson gave a shrug. “But does he actually follow you around, though? Like go to your dorms and private spaces?”

Joshua pursed his lips for a few beats and thought about it. “Not really… not like that. It’s just he pops up everywhere, especially when I’m trying to get stuff done.” 

“So basically, he’s just around at inconvenient times?”

“Well, he turns it into an inconvenience,” Joshua responded.

“What does he do exactly that bothers you?” Jackson asked. “From what you said, he mostly just shows up, makes quips, flashes you a grin then exits.”

Joshua searched for an answer in the depths of his hemispheres. It was true—Jeonghan never really did anything to him, save for turning whatever Joshua retorts into teasing. But somehow, he always managed to get under Joshua’s skin. He opened his mouth to say something, then shut it. He’s had to deal with some people like him in the past but not Yoon Jeonghan himself. Truthfully, he wasn't so sure why he found Yoon Jeonghan particularly aggravating.

“I don’t know,” Joshua muttered. “It’s not like he actually does anything serious, but...”

Jackson watched him for a moment, smirking slightly as he tried to reason. “And speak of the devil,” Jackson nodded towards the far end of the salle. 

Joshua followed Jackson’s gaze and, sure enough, there was the devil , with that same infuriating laid-back grin on his face. He waved when their eyes met, looking all too pleased with himself.

Joshua let out a deep sigh. Again. He could already feel his internal sphygmomanometer dial up to 140. 

He stomped toward the other end. His steps were heavy, laden with just vexation. “Why are you here?”

Jeonghan gave him a  grin. “Anyone can visit the fencing club, Joshuji. And for the record, your coaches didn’t ask me to leave.” 

“You’re unbelievable.”

Jeonghan took a step closer. “What? Can’t a guy support the varsity team? And you really look good, by the way.” 

Joshua instinctively lifted his arm that held his foil. He pointed it slightly toward Jeonghan. “Don’t get too close,” he said.

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. He put up both his arms in some form of surrender but didn’t step back.

Joshua rolled his eyes, lowering his foil but kept it in hand. “Why do you keep doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“This.” Joshua gestured vaguely. “Showing up, bothering me. It’s like... you’re some kind of pest.”

“A pest, huh? That’s a new one,” he glanced at his watch. “Well, as much as I’d love to keep pestering you, I have to leave.”

“Then leave,” Joshua said as he pointed to the door with his foil. “And stop watching me.”

“Okay, Joshuji,” Jeonghan said with a flat affect. “Don’t miss me too much though.” 

He gave a little wave, then made his way out. Joshua blinked, momentarily thrown off by the sudden change in tone.

The intonation had something else crept in. Joshua felt a pang of something unexpected. Did I cross a line? He thought. Joshua stood there, watching him walk away, and wondered if maybe it was too much.

He quickly shook his head, trying to push the thoughts aside. No, he had it coming. With a deep breath, Joshua turned back to the strip. He lifted his foil, tightening his grip around it. Focus.

EN GARDE! PRÊTS? ALLEZ!

Clashes of foil, sabres, and epees echoed through the salle as Joshua engaged in a bout with a freshman. He deflected the strikes with ease. His body moved as it should, but his mind was certainly not present. It had been a week since their last encounter. No trace of him whatsoever.

He lunged forward, his foil practically knocking the freshman’s blade out of the way. 

Isn’t this what you wanted? His thoughts mocked him as he dodged another. He had wanted peace, but somehow it felt... wrong. Joshua’s gaze flicked briefly across the room, half expecting to see Jeonghan there with his grin. But it was empty. 

Joshua moved to the side as the bout ended. He sat on the bench then wiped the sweat from his brow. He tried his best to lock it away but the gnawing feeling in his chest wouldn’t just go.

“You alright?” a team mate enquired as he was handed a water bottle. “You keep looking at the chairs. Something up?”

“Thanks Mark,” Joshua took a sip from the bottle before he answered. “I’m fine.”

“Okay, if you say so,” he gave Joshua a pat on the back before walking back to the strip.

A moment later, Jackson strolled over. He sat down next to Joshua, stretching out on the bench. His face plastered a smile evident of amusement. “You’re looking for him, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jackson chuckled. It was obvious what or who he was referring to. “Sure, sure. Whatever you say, dude.”

Joshua rolled his eyes, and got up. This is ridiculous.

Training went on as usual, but something felt off. The salle was a familiar fortress yet it felt unsettling. When the session finished Joshua stepped outside. The cool air and the smell of leaves did little to clear his thoughts. He adjusted his bag on his shoulder, ready to head home, when he saw someone walking along the path outside. 

It seems like he wasn’t waiting for anyone. He was just out for a casual walk, his hands tucked into his pockets, like he had all the time in the world. Seemingly, he was admiring how the night lights framed the whole campus. Joshua thought his profile complemented the night scenery well. He looks decent when he’s not talking, Joshua muttered in his consciousness.

He shook his head, and without much thought, Joshua blurted out, “Yoon Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan stopped in his tracks in recognition. He turned around with that unsettling grin forming. “Joshuji?”

“Where did you go?”

“Oh,” Jeonghan said as his grin even grew wider. “Did you miss me?”

Joshua scoffed, crossing his arms. “No, I just...”

Jeonghan laughed softly, stepping closer. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. I just had a busy week. But it’s cute that you're worried.” His grin widened even further, as the smugness pressed in further. 

Joshua rolled his eyes, letting out another scoff.  “Please, just disappear.” 

“I won’t,” Jeonghan said as his impish smile grew. “Besides, I missed you too, Joshuji.”

Joshua shook his head and quickly made a pivot as Yoon Jeonghan got too near. Truthfully, there was a small flicker of relief which stirred inside him. He quickly dismissed it. Yoon Jeonghan didn't have to know it. He walked away before Yoon Jeonghan could actually see through him. 

🤺⚔

“Thirty dollars for a bowl of Ramen is too expensive for a student you know,” Jackson informed him as they turned the corner. 

Jeonghan blinked. It was a matter of fact, self-evident to everyone but Jeonghan, who thought it was close to a bargain. Apart from occasional outings in the university dining halls, thirty dollars was what he spent on a “simple brunch”. But he was learning that in this place, that was frowned upon.

Jackson steered him toward a diner with a flickering signage which imagined itself to be called quaint instead of cheap. Inside the tables were decorated with permanent scratches and the remnants markers scrawled without care. The scent of oil had settled into the walls sometime in the past and decided to stay for good. Jeonghan’s eyes scanned the room, trying to make sense of what he sensed in there. 

“Over here!” a voice cut through as the owner waved to call their attention.

Jeonghan darted his eyes to the source of the sound, to which Jackson proceeded to give a high five and a friendly hug to a guy sitting at the booth.

“What’s up, Mark?” Jackson greeted as he slid into the booth. Jeonghan followed behind him, taking his place in a vacant spot.

Mark gave a nod to acknowledge Jeonghan. He had spotted Mark a few times at the fencing salle and in the science building. Mark rarely spoke unless he had something meaningful to add. Which is why it made sense why he’s often seen with Joshua, aside from the fact that they were both from the same town.

Jeonghan darted his eyes to the person of interest beside Mark. He smirked as soon as his gaze found the other person’s scowl. 

“Joshuji,” he said. “Fancy seeing you here. Did you miss me?”

Joshua’s eyes flickered up for a bit. His scowl turned into a glare and proceeded to flick his eyes back to the menu. “Not really,” he muttered.

“Oh, come on,” Jeonghan pressed, lounging back in his seat. “Surely even for a bit, you did.”

“I’m not in the mood right now, Yoon Jeonghan,” Joshua shot back sharply.

Joshua’s jaw clenched. Clearly, he had no interest in being in the same space as Jeonghan, especially now. His fingers tapped impatiently on the edge of his laptop, which sat open on the table. It was flickering, clearly exhausted. 

“Yo, what’s up with your laptop?” Jackson enquired, noticing the struggling screen.

Joshua sighed. “It’s dying. I’ve been trying to find a cheap place to get it fixed, but…”

“Just take it back to the store,” Jeonghan suggested. “They’ll take care of it.” 

Joshua’s fingers froze over the power button. He stared at the flickering screen, trying to keep himself in check. “It’s not that simple,” he muttered.

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. “Why not? If it’s under warranty, they’ll fix it or even replace it.”

Joshua’s shoulders tensed. “It’s not that kind of brand,” he said, a little more forcefully this time.

“Then just get a new one,” Jeonghan casually responded. 

Joshua’s breath hitched. He pressed his lips together. "Just get a new one," he repeated with a scoff. 

Jeonghan blinked, taken aback. “Well… if it’s broken and you need it...”

“I can’t just go out and buy a new one, Yoon Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan shrugged as if the solution was obvious. “Then ask your parents. They’ll understand it’s for school, right?”

“Ask my parents?” Joshua’s fingers tightened. His knuckles paled as his voice pitched higher than expected. “You think I can just do that?”

Jeonghan hesitated, baffled by the tone and the statements. “Isn’t that what people usually do?”

“God. You don’t get it do you?” Joshua retorted as his brows scrunched even closer. His fingers trembled as they gripped the table.

Jeonghan blinked as the air was laden with density. “I didn’t kn—”

“Of course you didn’t.” Joshua cut him off sharply, almost pushing back from the table. “Because you don’t have to. You’ve never had to.”

Jeonghan opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Joshua’s eyes were intense. Ablaze even. Like a slurry of lava before ashfall happens. 

“People like you don’t even have to think about this stuff.” Joshua broke sharply, then continued, “But some of us can’t even afford to think about it.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Exactly. You didn’t mean to.” Joshua’s voice was growing louder. Like a dam that just gave up holding all the water off. “Because you’ve never had to worry. You don’t know what it’s like to choose between your laptop and other things.”

Jeonghan felt his guts in a twist. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”

“Of course you wouldn’t think so!” Joshua cut him off again. “Because for you, it’s simple. Break something, get a new one. You want something, just buy it . Do you know what that’s like for people like me? I can’t just ‘ask my parents’. That’s not how things work.”

Jeonghan’s throat tightened. As if there was someone strangling it. Joshua had been annoyed with him before—irritated even—but never like this. Never with this kind of anger. He could only sit there in stunned silence. His mind raced to say something, anything but nothing came.

Joshua stood abruptly. His chair screeched against the floor. The sound was jarring. Joshua’s tense stare pierced through Jeonghan’s skull. “Your people,” he muttered under his breath. “You’ll never understand shit.”

Jeonghan felt like he was punched in the gut. He flinched. Joshua didn’t wait for a response. He turned on his heel and stormed out. The door would have slammed if not for another group of students entering the diner. 

“Sorry about that,” Mark said after a few beats of silence. “He’s not usually like that.”

Jeonghan massaged his lids as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. “I didn’t mean to…” he subduedly said.

“I know you didn’t,” Mark assured him. “It’s just that Joshua’s been through a lot.”

Jeonghan shifted in his seat. The air he breathes still felt like the kind where it was filled with fine dust. “Like what?” he asked with both curiosity and concern.

Mark sighed, there was a bit of hesitation in his pause. “There’s a reason why Joshua isn’t on social media. I don’t know if I should be telling you this but… back in high school, the Korean media found out about him. Apparently his dad was some big-shot business man and he was... another son”

Jeonghan’s eyes sharpened, but he stayed quiet. Mark continued.

“They harassed him and his mom for months. Even followed him to school to get an interview. It was brutal. His mom was just trying to live peacefully, and they wanted to turn things into a public spectacle.”

Jeonghan tried to absorb Mark’s words. He heard rumours about wealthy families hiding things to avoid public backlash. By brute or what not, shipped off their “secrets” to foreign countries. Did everything through goons or gold so no one could speak up. He always thought it was something he could pass through one ear, it became all too real.

“Joshua was born here,” Mark continued after a pause. “But his mom… well, things weren’t easy for her, especially back then. Took a long time to settle in, you know? That’s also kind of why he’s into fencing.”

Jeonghan nodded slightly, starting to connect the dots.

Mark glanced at him, measuring his words carefully. “Anyway, Joshua doesn’t talk about it much, but... it wasn’t just school that was stressful for him.”

Jeonghan didn’t need more details to figure out why Joshua acted the way he did. It all made sense. Ask your parents. That’s why.

Jeonghan arrived at his apartment later on after dinner. Unlike most students who crowded into dorms or shared off-campus housing, he lived alone. The polished floors of the lobby gleamed beneath his shoes as he was greeted by the reception.

On his way up, he overheard the conversation of people living in the same building. He recognised them as fellow students. One was the daughter of some tech billionaire while the other is a regular on Tatler.

“God, I told my parents if we have to ski during thanksgiving, we should at least try Niseko this time,” one of them said. It was peppered with boredom, the kind which came from having too many choices.

“Ugh, I get it,” the other student sighed as well. “I would have wanted to go to Austria, but my dad hates long-haul too. He keeps saying ‘nothing wrong with Aspen‘.”

Jeonghan felt a strange sensation. Surreal. Disconnected. The people he met at his apartment building were all cut from the same cloth, the kind of people who went to schools that cost more than a year’s salary for most families. The kind of people who thought of polo as just another sport, and having the prime minister attend your birthday is a normal occurrence. 

His family was comfortable. More than comfortable. He’d never had to worry about things like rent or school fees or the fact that getting ice cream wouldn’t mean he’d have to give up anything but some change and a fraction of his own time. It wasn’t something he’d ever had to think about before. But now, it was impossible not to.

For the first time, Jeonghan saw his life for what it was.

🤺⚔

Thanksgiving, as Jeonghan learned, was somewhat like Chuseok . Families gathered with a  feast, expressing gratitude for their blessings. But while Chuseok held traditions, Thanksgiving felt more relaxed, in several ways. Not too many obligations.  

He had considered flying back to Seoul but the thought of having to sit on a plane for half a day didn’t really appeal to him. Especially when it’s just for a week. Instead he decided to see stars in the city built by them. 

Despite deferring a long flight, Jeonghan had craved for a taste of home. He heard good things about LA’s Koreatown and decided to explore.

After wandering, Jeonghan found himself drawn to a modest Korean grocery store. It wasn’t like the places he usually frequented. The building was small, worn around the edges, and probably connected to the owner’s house. A handwritten sign on the door with a battery-powered chime welcomed customers in both Hangul and English.

The store was cosy but cramped. Shelves were lined with familiar essentials—ramyeon, dried seaweed, dips and sauces, and tubs of kimchi in the chiller. The floors were scuffed with time, but there was a homey feel to the place.

Jeonghan wandered through the narrow aisles, and spotted a packet of honey butter almonds. It’s been a while since he last saw his favourite snack. He made his way to the register, where a woman who looked to be in her 40s stood. Her face was kind, but there was some  tiredness in her eyes.

“Hello,” she greeted in English with a faint accent. It’s not entirely foreign but it had traces of being imported. 

“Hello,” Jeonghan greeted back politely and bowed. “I was wondering how much this is?” he asked, holding up the packet.

The woman stepped out from behind the counter to check the packet. “Let me see...” as she looked at the label, her eyes flicked to Jeonghan. “Are you Korean?” she asked.

Jeonghan nodded. “Yes, I am.”

“Oh, do you speak Korean?”

“I do,” Jeonghan politely answered.

“It’s nice to meet young people who can speak fluently. Kids these days only know English,” her eyes sparkled as she switched to her mother tongue. “Is this the first time you’ve been to this store?”

Jeonghan nodded again. “It is. I’m not originally from here.”

“Ah, really? Where are you from?”

“I’m actually from Seoul.”

“Ohhhh, it’s been a long time since I’ve gone home. I miss it.”

Jeonghan gave a polite smile. Before he could respond, she continued, “My son speaks Korean too, though he’s terrible at reading it. He’s trying, though.” She let out a fond chuckle. “So, what brings you to LA? Just vacation? School or work?”

“I’m an exchange student from Yonsei University,” Jeonghan replied.

Her face brightened up even more. “Yonsei? I wanted to study literature there, but…” she trailed off wistfully. “Life had other plans.”

“Where do you go to school here?” she asked after a pause, “UCLA? USC?”

“Actually, I’m at Stanford.”

“Stanford!” she exclaimed immediately. The kind one does when scratch cards give out a match.“My son goes to Stanford too. What year were you born?”

“1995,” Jeonghan answered. 

“You’re the same age! I wonder if you’ve met.” She clapped her hands once in amazement then continued to ramble. “He’s a pre-med, really busy but he always insists on helping out even if I tell him it’s fine. But he’s so thoughtful, you know? He’s always calling, checking in, making sure I’m okay. He was so worried about leaving me here alone when he went to college.”

As she continued, Jeonghan thought details sounded more and more familiar, as if puzzle pieces were falling into place. He listened as she continued.

“He even tried his best to get a scholarship for fencing,” she added with pride. “He’s really good, you know?”

Stanford. LA. Pre-med. Fencing. Jeonghan’s ears perked up at the key words. There were only two people who fit that description. The dots began connecting. Half of the options’ parents were doctors. Taiwanese-American, not Korean. 

“Eomma, where do you want—”

Jeonghan was just about to ask for a name to confirm his suspicions but then he didn’t have to, as his thoughts were interrupted by the affirmation.  He turned sharply, his eyes locking onto the person who just came in, apparently frozen in surprise. His face was in disbelief but annoyed more than anything.

“Yoon Jeonghan?”

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow then curled his mouth into a smirk. “Oh?”

The mother looked at her son, then back and forth with Jeonghan. 

“Wait, you two know each other?” the woman’s eyes brightened in pure delight. “What a small world! You should have told me, Jisoo.”

Joshua sighed deeply. He had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from cursing. “Eomma, he’s not—”

“This is nice,” Jeonghan declared, clearly enjoying the turnout. 

Before Joshua could say anything more, his mother clapped her hands together. “You have to stay for dinner! It’s not every day that Jisoo has a friend visiting.”

Joshua tensed up. He had this feeling of impending doom if not anything more. “Eomma, I think really he’s really bus—”

“I would love to!” Jeonghan cut in with a grin.

Joshua clenched his jaw. He shot Jeonghan a look that would have cut him. But of course, Jeonghan seemed to pay no attention to it. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered under his breath.

“Make yourself at home! Dinner won’t take too long,” Joshua’s mother called out as she made her way to the kitchen.

Jeonghan winked at Joshua. “See? I wouldn’t have the heart to refuse your mum.”

Joshua groaned. He tried his best not to lash out and keep his emotions under control.

“What are you even doing here, Yoon Jeonghan?”

“I was just exploring," Jeonghan said casually. “And fate brought me to you. Serendipity, don’t you think?”

“Serendipity? ” Joshua repeated in higher pitch.

Jeonghan pursed his lips and shrugged. He smiled again, which caused Joshua to almost throw a fit. “Anyway, did you miss me?”

“No.”

“Liar.” 

“In your dreams,” Joshua scoffed and made a turn for the kitchen.

Dinner was laid out simply. But to Jeonghan, it looked a lot like what he would imagine home was — steaming bowls of rice in a metallic container, banchan, and a pot of kimchi jjigae as the centrepiece. As Jeonghan took a bite and for a moment, he felt so grounded. Joshua also felt grounded, but in the sense that currents of ire flowed through.

“So, Jisoo used to spend a lot of time at the community centre when he was younger,” Joshua's mother began fondly. “That’s how he got into fencing. He’d be there while I was working.”

Joshua shifted in his seat, his jaw tight as he glanced at Jeonghan, but said nothing as he observed the latter’s smug grin. 

“Really?” Jeonghan leaned forward. “I bet it was cute.”

Joshua’s mother beamed. “Oh, he was adorable! At first, it was just to pass time while I was at work. But then, he started hanging around the fencing classes. He was so determined. He even practised with a broomstick at home."

Joshua groaned softly, sinking a little deeper into his seat. “Eomma… ”

Jeonghan’s grin widened with his eyes. “Broomstick, huh?”

Joshua shot Jeonghan some mental daggers. “You’ve got a lot to say for someone who’s probably never had to use a broom, let alone clean a floor with a vacuum.”

“You’d be surprised, Joshuji.” Jeonghan said as he shrugged off the retort. 

Joshua’s mother chimed in proudly. “Oh, but Jisoo worked so hard. Even as a kid, he’s so talented too!”

Joshua shifted uncomfortably. He almost hid his face which was slowly, but unsubtly turning red. “Eomma… ”

“Oh, and I’ll never forget the time he won first place in his first competition. He came home with that shiny medal, and I couldn’t have been prouder.”

“Eomma, you don’t have to—” 

Jeonghan smirked. He was revelling in the way Joshua bit his lip. How he looked like he wanted to bolt from the table. “Wow, so impressive, Joshuji.”

Joshua shot him a sideways glare. Somehow all the embarrassment he felt was bumped out by vexation. “It’s a local competition.”

“Still,” Jeonghan said, imagining the podium, “you probably looked so cute on that podium.”

Joshua maintained his stabbing look but didn’t say anything. Dinner soon came to an end, and as Joshua’s mother began clearing the table, Jeonghan stood up.

“I’ll help with the dishes,” he offered, catching both Joshua and his mother off guard.

Joshua frowned. “You don’t have to.”

Jeonghan waved him off. “I insist. Besides, it’s the least I can do after such a great meal.” And before Joshua could argue further, he grabbed some plates and rushed to the sink.

They stood side by side, washing dishes in silence. The tension hung in the air. It was thick like whipped coffee. Jeonghan took a few glances at Joshua, debating whether to cut through the sound of the faucet and scrubbing. 

“I’m sorry,” Jeonghan blurted as softly as he could.

Joshua glanced at him. “For what?”

“You know what,” Jeonghan began, then caught himself and paused. “I shouldn’t have said that. I had some time to think, and you’re right. I’ve been insensitive.”

“Yeah,” Joshua rinsed a plate. He pursed his lips for a while before he talked. “I might’ve overreacted.”

“No, you didn’t,” Jeonghan responded. “I’ve read about it in theory… but I can’t pretend that I truly understand it.”

Joshua rinsed some more of the metal bowls. He scrunched his forehead, clearly weighing his thoughts. After a long pause, he finally broke in. 

“You’re from Yonsei, right?”

Jeonghan nodded in affirmation. “I am.”

“That was my mom’s dream school,” Joshua continued albeit mutedly. “She always wanted to study literature there.”

“She did say that earlier,” Jeonghan recounted. 

“Yeah but… she never got the chance.” He hesitated, then sighed. “She gave up everything, just to raise me. She worked so hard, and I feel like… I took that from her.”

Jeonghan turned his head to Joshua, who looked at the dishes with a lot of pensiveness. “You didn’t take anything from her.” 

Joshua scrubbed a plate more vigorously. “It’s just that she could’ve had her own life. But instead, she had me.”

Jeonghan took a step closer. He placed a dish on the drying rack then glanced back at Joshua. “You didn’t ruin anything. People make sacrifices for the people they care about even if it means they have to step back,” he paused then caught Joshua’s eyes. “She’s so proud of you. You’re her everything, and I know she really loves you.”

Joshua was silent for a moment, taking in Jeonghan’s words. He wouldn’t admit it right now, but it certainly felt like there was some semblance of comfort in what he just heard. 

“I guess you would know, huh?” Joshua mumbled as he continued to rinse some more.

Jeonghan let out an almost imperceptible huff. “I suppose so.”

There was a pause—just enough for Joshua to glance sideways and notice a subtle change in Jeonghan’s expression as his hands stilled for a few beats. Joshua didn’t press on. For all that he was, it seems like there were some things that also bothered Yoon Jeonghan too. He didn’t know how to ask about it right now, so he let the moment slip by and maintained silence.

“I don’t want your money,” Joshua finally said. “But I’ll help you with the English thing.”

“Oh?” Jeonghan said with his eyes lit. “What’s the catch?”

Jeonghan fixed his eyes at him. He was used to a world where everything is done in exchange for something. it doesn’t necessarily have to be money. it could’ve been another good, or in this case may be a service too.

“Help me with Hangul—reading, writing, the complex stuff. I want to be able to share my mom’s love for books, maybe help her out with more things too.”

Jeonghan smiled. The same smug one Joshua had just gotten used to. “Too easy.”

“I won’t go easy on you though.”

“Challenge accepted,” Jeonghan chuckled in between.

Joshua wiped his hands dry. There was a little bit of contemplation on his end before he set down the towel. “By the way… since you mentioned you don't have any relatives nearby,” he began slowly, as if testing the waters. “Eomma said she wanted to invite you over for Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Oh? She wants to see more of me, huh?” Jeonghan said in a tune familiar to Joshua’s ears. “What do you say, Joshuji? Do you want me to come?”

Joshua paused as he looked at Jeonghan who was still smiling. Behind his smugness, it seems like there was a genuine curiosity. He wasn’t used to Jeonghan knocking, considering all those times he barged right in.

“I mean,” Joshua muttered, a little flustered, as he dried another dish. "If Eomma wants you to come, then…”

Jeonghan tilted his head. Gave a frown. Then made his clarification. “I’m not asking your mother, I’m asking you. Do you want me there?”

Joshua let out a short sigh. “Just... don’t make it weird.”

“Thursday,” Jeonghan’s grin widened. “I’ll be here then.”

🤺⚔

“Jo-shu-ji,” Jeonghan elongated the word with a pout. “Why won’t you give me your number?” 

Joshua sighed upon hearing the question. If he had a dollar every time Yoon Jeonghan asked that question, he might finally have enough to afford five days of rent in Jeonghan’s building. He stared at the other person who batted his eyelashes like he was an animated character. As if that would have done anything to sway him completely. 

“I told you, I don’t want to be disturbed beyond our set time,” he replied. 

Jeonghan didn’t seem deterred in the slightest. “Set time,” he mused as if in disbelief of the existence of those words themselves. “That’s funny, because we seem to run into each other all the time. I swear, we must be soulmates or something.”

“You always run into me, Yoon Jeonghan .” Joshua retorted. “You probably orchestrated it.” 

His voice was sharp, but not as sharp. He doesn’t know when it happened but he would admit at least he’d gotten used to Yoon Jeonghan’s persistence. Maybe it was somewhere between Jeonghan watching all his fencing training and asking endless questions about American idioms. Or maybe it could be when Joshua himself was figuring out culturally-anchored metaphors. He doesn’t know exactly. 

Still, he wasn’t going to tell Yoon Jeonghan that he’s become part of his routine. Otherwise, that would be a good set of arsenal for him.

Jeonghan gave a shrug. “Funny thing is, I don’t even know your full schedule, yet somehow we end up together almost every day.”

Joshua glanced at him. He hovered his fingers over his keyboard then quickly returned to what he was typing. “Exactly. If we see each other every day, then you don’t need my number.”

Jeonghan frowned, then he whined. “Yeah, but you never even agree to eat with me.”

“Don’t want to,” Joshua said. “You have expensive tastes.” 

“Yeah but,” Jeonghan said as he bit his lip. He glanced away, dug at the edges of his notebook. “Wherever you’d like, I don’t mind. It doesn’t always have to be fancy.”

Joshua glanced at Jeonghan. The tone of his voice held a sincerity that made him pause. I seemed genuine, so much so that it was disarming. Does he— Joshua stopped his own thoughts and shook his head to keep him back on track. 

“How about that taco place?” Jeonghan pitched. “The one you go to after training?”

“I told you, I can’t. I’m busy. There’s a lot of things coming up,” Joshua said and quickly returned to what he was doing. 

Jeonghan watched him silently as he read. A smile formed on Jeonghan’s lips as he noticed the way Joshua scrunched his nose when he was concentrating. He wondered if that’s how Joshua looked like under the mask when he was fencing. Either way, he found it cute. At the same time, Jeonghan resisted the urge to poke his face.  

“Why do you like sword-fighting so much?” Jeonghan asked suddenly instead.

Joshua paused, turning his eyes toward Jeonghan as if weighing whether the question deserved a real answer. “Scholarship,” he replied, hoping that would suffice.

“Really now?” Jeonghan probed.

“Fine,” Joshua admitted. Sometimes, it’s surprising how much Yoon Jeonghan could read him. “Besides the fact that it gives me a break… it’s something I can give to my mom too after everything she’s been through.”

Jeonghan tilted his head. He had a question he had wanted to ask for a long time. “Is that why you’re so set on making it to the Olympic team?” he asked quietly with words that were chosen carefully.

“Yeah,” he conceded as his gaze found its way to the window. “A lot of it is proving to myself that I don’t need charity from them .” 

Jeonghan bit his tongue both ways. He never asked Joshua directly about that side particularly. Neither did Joshua talk about it, save for a few vague hints. Despite that, Jeonghan had a pretty good idea of who they might be. He’d seen him in pictures, and once in real life. Sometimes in the right angles and light he’d see Joshua’s features. But Jeonghan kept that observation to himself. Joshua didn’t bring it up, so it wasn’t exactly his business.

“You know, Joshuji,” Jeonghan began, “I actually did Kendo in high school. Had a friend from Japan who dragged me to the dojo with him.”

Joshua blinked, surprised. It was apparent that he had difficulty picturing it. “You? Kendo?”

“Hey, ouch.” Jeonghan placed a hand on his chest. “I know it doesn’t fit what you think of me but I wasn’t too bad at it. It’s actually pretty interesting. Made me feel like I’m in a fantasy game or something.” 

Joshua looked up for a glance. “I’m not sure what you even mean.”

Jeonghan laughed. “Take it how you want. But you with fencing, during training. You’re so focused. Regal, even.” Jeonghan rested his head on his arms on the desk. “You’ve got this whole Lord Hong vibe going on.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“It is,” Jeonghan replied as he widened his smile to devilish. “Anyway, when you get to Tokyo, you know I’m happy to be of service.”

“That’s if I’m still talking to you by then, Yoon Jeonghan.”

“Don’t you dare cut me off, Joshuji!” Jeonghan gasped dramatically. He clutched his heart once more in appropriate fashion. “The whole point of telling you that was to let you know that I’ve learned enough Japanese to be your personal translator.”

Joshua shook his head, partially to shake off things going on in his chest. “You’re bragging again. And can you be more quiet? There are other people in the study hall, Yoon Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan smirked, offering an apology that was probably only half-sincere. But it was impossible for Joshua to stay calm. Especially when Jeonghan was now staring at him again.

“What?” Joshua asked as he felt the watch.

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair. “Jackson told me there’s a major tournament soon. Heard you rank high nationally so I’m coming, whether you like it or not.”

Joshua sighed. “It’s not like I have the authority to ban you from going. Just... don’t be too annoying.”

Jeonghan gasped dramatically. He placed both of his hands on the desk for some flair. “Is that what you think of me, Joshuji?”

Joshua responded, not missing any beat. “You know, I’d almost believe you’re hurt, but you really need to work on your acting.”

Jeonghan burst out laughing though soft enough in hopes of not being kicked out of the room. “Don’t worry, I watched it in London before,” he said, “Though, I still don’t understand the differences between all the swords. Maybe you can tell me, so I’d get it when I watch you in Tokyo—and who knows, maybe Paris, too.”

“Humblebrag.” Joshua muttered. “I’ve never even been to the Olympics. Only watched them on TV.”

Jeonghan’s smile faded. It’s not that he meant it like that. He mustered up, hoping Joshua would feel it. “I mean... I really do think you can make it, Joshuji.”

Joshua averted his eyes, unsure how to respond. He considered it for a bit, before finally committing to one. “You haven’t even seen one of my actual matches yet.”

Jeonghan grinned. “Ah, so you do want me to watch.”

Joshua scoffed. “Believe what you want. Or whatever.”

Jeonghan leaned in again, almost nudging Joshua who was peacefully reading. “So... how about giving me your number now?”

“Why do you want my number so much?”

“Because you never contact me first. It must be fun for you, not having me around.”

Joshua sighed and rolled his eyes once more. “Stop being so dramatic.”

Jeonghan raised both hands up. “Alright, fine. But honestly...” He looked out the window briefly. His manner was downturned before continuing, “Winter break in Seoul was boring without talking to you.”

He stretched his arms, then said without any sharps. “It’s way too cold there.”

There was a change in tone in Jeonghan’s voice. Joshua had a feeling that he wasn’t talking about the weather. Afterall, Yoon Jeonghan had sent him those snowboarding videos during the break as email attachments no less. But Joshua never let him know he’s seen them. He was smiling. Laughing. Doing all those carvings. Going all “Did you see that, Joshuji?” . Yet underneath, Joshua couldn’t help but feel like there was something that Jeonghan wasn’t verbally saying.

Jeonghan glanced towards Joshua, immediately he put on his famous non-scowl. “Did you miss me, Joshuji?” he quipped.

“No,” Joshua shot down quickly.

But in truth, the quiet during the break had been unsettling. He didn’t understand why, though he wasn’t about to admit that. It was odd. 

Jeonghan cut through his thoughts. He grinned as if somehow it would console him. “But you will miss me once I actually have to go back to Seoul.”

Right. Joshua blinked. Seoul. It crept up on him, that eventuality. The thought left him feeling uneasy, but  couldn’t afford to dwell on it. He shrugged it off. “Whatever.”

Jeonghan pushed forward his own body, contorted his neck and then said. “So, dinner then? My treat... or we can split the bill if you prefer. It’s up to you—I don’t want to impose.”

Joshua eyed him. It was careful, the way he said it. Even a certain gentleness to his approach. As much as Joshua wanted to keep his distance, he couldn’t help but notice how Jeonghan meant well. It’s dangerous. But he really did. 

He sighed, rolling his eyes. Despite that, he gave in. “Fine. Dinner. And your treat.”

Jeonghan’s face lit up with visible excitement. “It’s a date!”

Joshua reached for his book, swatting in Jeonghan’s direction. “You wish it was, Yoon Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan put his hands up in a cross before he silently laughed maniacally. They went back to their tasks. But Joshua found his eyes lingering on Jeonghan, who went back to reading his book for a class on Literature and Society. He was looking for a longer time than he intended nor realised. Jeonghan’s lashes were long and fluttered nicely whenever he blinked. It reminded Joshua of a famous actress from a drama he’d watched once with his mother when he was much younger. Only recently had he started to take a closer look. Nowadays, it is becoming increasingly difficult not to.

Without looking up, Jeonghan recited a line. “I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.” His brow furrowed, groaned, and he turned to Joshua. “This old-time English stuff still confuses me.”

”You’ll get it, you’re smart,” Joshua sprawled out. Jeonghan blinked as though he wouldn’t. His eyes looked shiny, enough to make Joshua think he was actually begging. Joshua gave a sigh, then caved. 

“He’s talking about falling in love,” Joshua explained. “He didn’t realize it while it was happening.”

Jeonghan seemed to ponder it for a bit. Then expectedly he leaned in with a sly smile. “Hmm… kind of like how you’re realising you’re falling for me?”

Joshua shot him an unimpressed look. “Bold of you to think that, Yoon Jeonghan.”

“This can be us, you know,” Jeonghan shrugged at Joshua, all while turning to that Cheshire grin. “I can be Elizabeth, you can be Darcy. Or the other way around works just fine.” 

Joshua jerked his eyeballs up. Almost like he was peering into his own hemispheres. “If anything, you’re more like Lydia.”

“Lydia!” Jeonghan gasped as his hands flew over his head. “Come on, I’m not that reckless, Joshuji.”

“Well you like trouble.”

“Trouble?” Jeonghan responded, not any less dramatic than the last line he said. “Maybe I just like to keep it interesting. Besides, who would bring light to your brooding world?”

“For someone who claims to not understand English literature, you seem to read into many things,” Joshua muttered.

Jeonghan leaned, and once again proudly flashed his sly, unsettling grin. “Maybe I’m just trying to keep up with your type, Joshuji. You know, in case you finally realise that you like me.”

“You’re delusional.”

“You always say that,” Jeonghan responded, not breaking a bit of his expression. “But admit it, I bring in some variety.”

Joshua's lips parted slightly. He wanted to say a retort. Instead, he paused. Just stared, then closed his mouth again. In the end, he chose silence.

🤺⚔

“Remind me again, why did I go here?”

“Because I’m here, Joshuji,” Jeonghan teased. “But honestly I didn’t think you’d show up”

Joshua didn’t think he would have either. When Yoon Jeonghan brought it up, he shrugged him off and told him he wouldn’t be coming. But somehow this day, he dragged himself to the spot where Yoon Jeonghan said he would be waiting. He hadn’t planned on coming, and yet here he was on a trail with rolling hills. The wind ruffled through his hair as the blanket of gold descended on the view. 

“You know, you’re kind of slow for an athlete,” Jeonghan declared plastering on that smug expression. 

Joshua frowned but didn’t pick up his pace. He slowed down even further, just to get back even for a bit. “I’ve never actually been here before,” he admitted after a moment.

“Really?” Jeonghan’s voice went a few cents up. “I thought you would have, considering it’s your final year.” 

“Yeah.” Joshua responded. “Between fencing and school, I don’t really have that much time to do other things.”

Jeonghan tilted his head, studying him for a second as if weighing what to quip. “I see. But this place is pretty amazing,” he said instead. 

They continued walking as the scenery became more breathtaking. The sky above them continued its gradient, as the greenery was further tinted in shades of pink and orange as the sun was slipping away.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve stopped to admire something like this,” Jeonghan murmured, as his eyes fixed on the horizon.

Joshua caught up to him. “I figured. I mean a plane isn’t a first-class hill.”

“You’re getting good at this,” Jeonghan let out a laugh, amused at the quip. “Though not on my level yet.”

Joshua muttered something under his breath as his gaze shifted to the horizon as well. Jeonghan didn’t catch what he said, and instead settled with silence. It felt natural, almost peaceful.

“You know,” Jeonghan broke in after a few measures, “this kind of reminds me of a spot in Gangwon-do. The sunsets there are unreal. I should find time to go once I’m back in Korea.”

Joshua’s face tensed slightly. His eyes seem to be pensive. Right. There was that reminder. Yet again, he told himself not to dwell too much on it. Despite revising his expression quickly, Jeonghan picked up on it. 

“You know, Joshuji,” Jeonghan quipped. “You’re probably the only person I want to grace with my constancy.”

Joshua shot him a glance. “Should I be grateful?” 

“Well, you don’t really have a choice,” Jeonghan chuckled in response. “Speaking of choices, what made you choose Stanford? Of course apart from the scholarship.”

Joshua considered the question for a bit. It’s not the first time he’s been asked about it, yet it felt different when Yoon Jeonghan wondered about it. “It just made sense,” he began slowly. “Stanford’s a good school with good support for fencing. It’s not in LA but it’s still in California, so I’m not too far from my mom.”

“Was it always the plan?”

“Kind of,” Joshua admitted. “I mean, the scholarship definitely played a huge part, and Stanford’s pre-med program is one of the best. Good for fencing, good for med school in the future. Besides, my mom worked hard. She sacrificed a lot for me to have this chance.”

“So you chose it for practical reasons?”

“Something like that. But don’t get me wrong,” Joshua added quickly. “I really wanted to get in here too.”

Joshua glanced at Jeonghan who didn’t say anything. Evidently, he was thinking of several things. Possibilities and what-ifs. “What about you? Was Yonsei your first choice?”

Jeonghan’s lips curled into a wry smile. There was that look of contemplation. “I don’t know if there was another choice,” he confessed. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Jeonghan took a moment before responding. His voice unusually downturned. “It was an expectation,” he let out a dry laugh. It was meant to convince Joshua that it’s not that serious. “The old man told me it should be Yonsei. And going here on exchange, it was just part of the plan too.”

Joshua frowned. “But you agreed to come here.”

Jeonghan nodded. “Yeah, I did. It felt like a good escape, honestly. At least here, I could be someone else for a while. But even then, it’s like it’s only still so they can brag about it.”

Jeonghan’s laugh was too hollow. Rather than genuine lightness, it felt more like resignation. Yoon Jeonghan was always so put together, yet Joshua sensed now that a lot of it was just him being a performer.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Joshua started after much hesitation. “My mom noticed… well, a resemblance. She’s a fan but didn’t want to pry. But is your mom...”

Jeonghan cut him off with a smile. “Yeah, my mother is who you think she is.”

Joshua looked at Jeonghan carefully. The golden hour’s rays framed his features well. Underneath all that slyness, he carried his mother’s elegance. After all, she was one of the templates for everyone else’s eyelids or noses. Yet, despite being her spitting image, there was something about Yoon Jeonghan that made Joshua pause, skid his eyes slightly when they’re studying even just for a fraction of a second. Sometimes, a slight of knocking on his wrists as well. Of course, he’d look like that, Joshua said to himself.

“And naturally, you probably also figured out who my dad is,” Jeonghan added casually. 

Joshua gave him a nod. 

Jeonghan looked ahead. “It’s funny,” he began, “I’m the son of Assemblyman Yoon first before I’m Jeonghan.”

Joshua listened quietly. It felt like Jeonghan was showing him something unlike at all what he knew from him. Like his mask was slipping. 

“That’s why I asked you for help before,” Jeonghan threw a small pebble forward. He hoped that it was that easy to let go of things that weighed him. “It’s not just for fun. I can’t fall behind. Everything I do reflects on my parents.”

The way Jeonghan spoke was a massive departure from the usual tone he used. He stayed quiet in between. Joshua hadn’t thought of it that way, how he always seemed to be under a microscope. He realised then that Jeonghan was never really off-stage.

“I’ll be honest, I don’t even have life goals,” Jeonghan admitted with a half-hearted chuckle. “I didn’t even pick my major—my parents did. That’s what they wanted, so I had to.”

Jeonghan tossed another pebble. “I never thought it was necessary to have big dreams because… why bother? It’s already there anyway. It’s weird… when people talk about wanting to go to some place, I’ve already been there. When they want to buy something or go to some concert they have to save up for it.”

For Joshua, it was strange to think of someone like Jeonghan feeling so trapped. But it wasn’t a maze. It was a straight path. It seemed ironic, how Jeonghan had everything and yet, none of it seemed like his own way.

“You can be serious sometimes,” Joshua said almost to himself.

Jeonghan smirked. “When am I not?”

“...”

Jeonghan laughed then shook his head. “I’ve told you before, Joshuji. Your reactions are cute. It’s nice seeing you loosen up.”

Joshua gave a smile. Small enough so he’s aware of it, but not apparent to the supposed receiver.

“You know, it’s fun bothering you,” Jeonghan said. “But honestly, I admire you. You know what you want.”

Joshua caught himself surprised. While Jeonghan had sent him praises, it always came with a bright tone and a lot of laughter. For a period neither said anything. They allowed the wind to listen as the sun sunk further into the horizon beneath them. 

Joshua cleared his throat. He reached into his bag and pulled out a small yellow pack of honey butter almonds. “Here,” he awkwardly offered. 

Jeonghan’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Ooohhh, I love these.”

“Yeah, that’s why I brought them.”

“For me? How thoughtful.”

Joshua rolled his eyes. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

Jeonghan popped one of the almonds into his mouth. He grinned, pleased. “Admit it, Joshuji. You like me.”

Joshua stiffened then caught himself. “You wish.”

Jeonghan leaned just a little closer. “I don’t have to wish.”

“It’s late, let’s get moving,” Joshua muttered.

He turned his head as well as his legs then walked ahead. He had to avoid Jeonghan’s gaze. Despite that, there was some heat creeping up his neck that betrayed him to himself.

🤺⚔

“You know, I would have thought you’d have gone to a beach by now,” Joshua said, as his voice cut through the plane’s engine as a background noise.

Jeonghan turned to him slowly. He blinked twice as he seemed to collect his thoughts. “Why?”

Joshua tilted his head. His eyes flicked between Jeonghan and the clouds outside. “Because that’s what people usually do on spring break. You know... beaches, parties, overpriced drinks.”

Jeonghan paused for a bit. He upturned his lips into a sly grin. “Your Eomma invited me,” he said. “Besides, what good is the university email address if you won’t reply to my emails, so I figured I’d just stick with you instead.” 

“You’ll live,” Joshua responded dryly.  

“But I’m not sure you would handle it well though,” Jeonghan said as he squinted. “Be honest, if we got separated, you’d miss me so much, Joshuji.”

Joshua could only roll his eyes. It was strange. Just a few months ago, he never would have seen this coming, and yet here he was—sitting in the window seat, while to his left, in the middle seat, was Yoon Jeonghan, who had somehow convinced him to switch. The worst part is, Joshua didn’t even mind.

The plane seemed to be a mismatch for Yoon Jeonghan. Joshua had expected complaints as he was the kind of person who’d get asked if he wanted Moët or Veuve Clicquot while revelling in leg room. And yet, here he was, cramped in coach, calmly taking the dreaded middle seat. Joshua didn’t like the middle seat. No one liked the middle sea. But Jeonghan hadn’t said a word. Not even a show of discomfort. 

“You seem comfortable,” Joshua said with a bit of scepticism. 

Jeonghan looked up from the book he’d been flipping through. “With what?”

“Here.” Joshua gestured to point out the obvious. “Coach.”

Jeonghan’s brows furrowed slightly. It was as if Joshua had just asked whether he’d ever expelled oxygen before. His eyes flicked down to the cramped seat and back up to Joshua, with his lips forming into a faint grin.

“What, you think I’ve never flown coach before?”

“I mean…”

Jeonghan let out a soft chuckle, leaning back in his seat as he did. “It’s not my first time in coach, Joshuji.”

Before Joshua could respond, the overhead speakers crackled.

Ladies and Gentlemen, we are about to begin our descent into Los Angeles. Please make sure your seats are in an upright position, seat belts are buckled, and tray tables stowed.

The descent was relatively silent, apart from the additional announcements from the air cabin crew and cockpit, as with the straightforwardness of disembarking and bag collection. Soon enough, they found themselves in a cab. The  city’s palm trees blurred past. Surprisingly enough, they weren’t party to the city’s famous sluggish traffic. Joshua glanced at Jeonghan, hesitating for a bit. His curiosity finally got the better of him.

“Do you really fly coach?” he blurted as he couldn’t really grasp the idea of it.

Jeonghan gave a light shrug. “When it’s not long-haul, there’s really no point.”

Joshua raised an eyebrow. He had an expression that only partially believed even if the idea made sense to him. 

Jeonghan chuckled softly, noticing Joshua's scepticism. “I’m not as high-maintenance as you think,” he said then added, “besides, I have good company.”

As they stepped out of the cab, the familiar storefront greeted him. The last time he was here was over Thanksgiving, the first time he was when he stumbled upon it. When they reached the door of the actual living space, both instinctively removed their shoes and put it away on a cabinet.

Joshua’s mum greeted them at the entrance. “Make yourself at home, Jeonghan,” she said warmly.

In response, Jeonghan flashed a smile, thanked her, and bowed respectfully. After some rest, he found himself wanting to help out in the kitchen. Joshua was surprised to see him there. After all, Jeonghan didn’t strike him as the type to know how to handle a kitchen knife. Let alone roll some rice nor willingly get his hands salty with seaweed. 

“You know how to make these?” Joshua asked, not believing what he’s seeing. 

“Come on,” Jeonghan responded with that particular grin. “It’s not that hard to make kimbap.”

“Right,” Joshua muttered. “I just never thought about it.”

“So you think about me, Joshuji?” Jeonghan chuckled as he pressed down the mat. Before Joshua can respond exactly as Jeonghan would expect, he continued. “I know a few things,” he smoothened out the roll with ease. “The staff at home were the ones who mostly taught me,” he continued, “They kind of raised me.”

“I see,” Joshua said quietly. It was one of the few times Joshua caught himself not knowing how to respond. 

“Here,” Jeonghan handed Joshua an uncut log. “I know you like it this way.” 

Joshua fled his eyes down to the roll offered to him. He blinked twice somehow again, not believing it. “How did you know that?”

“You always ask for those,” Jeonghan said. “So picky.”

“I’m not picky,” Joshua rebutted.

“Well,” Jeonghan responded. He shrugged as he returned to rolling some more. “Maybe not picky in the traditional sense, but it’s cute.”

Cute. Joshua repeated albeit internally. He stared at the uncut kimbap for a moment. It felt so nice that it felt so jarring. He didn’t know what to do with it. 

“Honestly, I might just join your family at this rate,” Jeonghan quipped, glancing over his shoulder with that trademark smirk.

Joshua played along. “Oh yeah? You think you could survive here?”

“Survive? I’m thriving,” Jeonghan replied as his hands deftly worked the rice and seaweed. “Plus, your Eomma likes me.”

Joshua rolled his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

From the other side of the kitchen, Joshua’s mother chimed in. “He’s always welcome,” she said with a smile.

As soon as Jeonghan finished up the rolls, he let his gaze linger on the surroundings. Joshua’s mother was bustled around, Joshua helped her around. Spring break in LA was warm. It wasn’t something Jeonghan had ever really known. His own parents were always too busy, a bit out of reach. Even when he was in California, they rarely ever checked up on him. His mother spent more time playing someone else’s mother. His father lived on transactional connections.

Still, he didn’t hate them. But it always felt like something was missing. Here he felt what he never did at his house back in an expensive zip code in Seoul. 

Later, while clearing the table, Jeonghan’s eyes landed on a shelf lined with old DVDs. He recognised the covers immediately. He picked one up, flipping it over and found his mother’s name on the credits. Joshua’s mum had mentioned she was a fan but she never treated him differently because of it. He was Jeonghan first, not the son of anyone.

Maybe that’s why Joshua was the way he was. Gentle. Quiet. Thoughtful. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone. He was just Joshua. Kind. Hard Working. Joshuji . 

Jeonghan found himself smiling at the thought. That’s probably why he liked to be around Joshua so much. Joshua treated him like a person. Even though he always said his full name out loud, he wasn’t exactly Yoon Jeonghan. Just Jeonghan from Seoul. He liked that. He liked being the one person who could push Joshua’s buttons and get him riled up.

Despite protests and assurances, Jeonghan made a habit of sticking around the grocery everyday. “You really don’t have to help out,” Joshua said while opening a box full of ramyeon to arrange on the shelf. It was the third consecutive day for the week he had to tell Jeonghan that. 

But in true fashion, Jeonghan was persistent. He rolled up his sleeves as he made up his mind. “Nah, I’m good.”

Of course, as Joshua had already known, there was no reasoning with him. He didn’t really give them much of a choice. Every day, he showed up. He even chatted up the regulars like he’s been there for years. And as much as Joshua grumbled about it, there was something almost comforting about having Jeonghan around.

The stockroom space was small, cluttered with boxes and crates. The two of them worked side by side. Their movements almost synchronised after a few days of the same routine.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Joshua said, glancing over at Jeonghan, who was busy sorting out some produce.

Jeonghan looked up then tilted his head. “What, you think I can’t handle it? You know you can depend on me, right? I’m not so bad.”

Joshua shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. I just… I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

“But I want to,” Jeonghan responded. “You don’t have to do everything by yourself.”

There was a sincerity in Jeonghan’s words that caught Joshua off guard. He paused for a moment, unsure of how to respond.

“I’m fine,” Joshua said, picking up a crate and moving it between them.

“You’re always fine,” Jeonghan moved closer. He nudged Joshua’s shoulder. “But you can’t get rid of me now. So, deal with it.”

Joshua felt a strange flutter in his chest. It’s not annoyance. It was something else. But it was an annoying feeling anyway. He doesn’t know what to call it. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to deal with it. 

Joshua swatted Jeonghan’s arm lightly. Don’t get too close.

🤺⚔

“What about the community centre?” Jeonghan suggested.

Joshua scrunched his forehead at Jeonghan. “Why would you want to go there?”

Earlier that morning, Joshua’s mother found out Jeonghan had only seen the histrionic sides of LA. Tinseltown. The Grove. Bel Air. All that glamour and ritz. Immediately, she requested her son to properly show him around. Joshua would have resisted except he always found it hard when it came directly from her. Begrudgingly, he passed on the message to Yoon Jeonghan—whom, as always, already was one step ahead with his own bright ideas.

“Isn’t that what tourists do?” Jeonghan raised. “Visit the local landmarks?”

“That’s hardly a landmark,” Joshua refuted. 

“Give it time,” Jeonghan insisted. “Soon enough, they’ll be filming a documentary there.”

“On what?”

“The humble beginnings of Olympic fencing champion, Joshua Hong,” Jeonghan declared smoothly, as though he truly believed it. “It’s going to be a hit, I think.” 

Joshua wasn’t sure if a scoff was an appropriate response. On one hand, Yoon Jeonghan often joked about his prospects. At the same time, Joshua didn’t know if he was actually joking about it. Still, he wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he liked it. In the end, Joshua settled for an eye roll instead.

“You’re going to jinx it,” Joshua muttered.

Right on cue, Jeonghan plastered on that grin. “I’m not jinxing anything. In fact, I’ll even clear my schedule so I can appear in it. I’ll do it for free, by the way.”

“Why would anyone pay you in the first place?” Joshua escalated.

“Ooooh,” Jeonghan remarked as nodded a few times while doing a duck face. “You’re doing great, Joshuji. Finally starting to bite back, huh?”

Joshua groaned. He rubbed his head as if nursing a headache. “Ugh, why do I have to deal with you?”

“But you don’t really have to, though.”

Joshua froze for a moment. His heart sped up, but he quickly scolded it. Brushed off whatever it was. Huh.

“But I’m here anyway so it’s okay,” Jeonghan added with a wider smirk.

Soon enough, they approached a familiar building which stood unassumingly. Inside the community centre gym, it smelled like old sweat and dust. The fencing strips were worn-out. The walls were lined with fading paint and a few mismatched chairs as well. A far cry from the well-maintained Stanford salle.

“This is where you started?” Jeonghan enquired. His eyes wandered around, absorbing the simplicity of the space.

Joshua nodded. “Yeah. It doesn’t look like much, but... it meant a lot to me back then.”

They hadn’t been there long before a familiar voice called out. “Joshua Hong? Is that you?”

Joshua turned to see a man in his fifties. The hair at his temples was a gradient of grey. “Gabe,” Joshua greeted. “It’s been a while.”

Gabe grinned as he patted his hand on Joshua’s shoulder. “Long time no see. I heard you’re doing well at Stanford,” he said with a distinct twang that brought Joshua a sense of familiarity.

“Trying to,” Joshua responded. 

“And national collegiate champion, it seems? I always knew you’d go places,” Gabe responded with a smile. “Don’t be too humble.”

Joshua smiled as memories flooded back. Gabe was his first coach, and also his biggest believer. He always thought Joshua would make it, even when Joshua himself couldn’t see it. He’d always pushed him harder, told him he just had to focus.

“You always say that,” Joshua replied. “But I wasn’t very good back then.”

“Doesn’t matter now,” Gabe countered. “I knew your potential.”

Jeonghan watched their exchange with much interest. Despite all the matches he watched, whether Joshua’s or when he was younger, he didn’t know much about fencing. But even he could understand what Gabe was trying to say.

“You don’t believe him?” Jeonghan chimed in. “Doesn’t sound like you, you win all the time.” 

Joshua gave him a look, a bit more resigned than amused. “I wasn’t always like that.”

“Yeah, but now you’re Olympic material,” Gabe added. “I’ve been saying it for years.”

Jeonghan couldn’t help but smile at Gabe’s confidence in Joshua. He’d seen Joshua win enough to know that Gabe was right. Joshua had a natural talent. He was sure about that much at least. He turned to Joshua with a playful smirk, but not the one he uses to get a reaction out of him.

“Don’t worry,” Jeonghan said. “I’ll be there to grace you with my presence in Tokyo. Make sure to wave and say hi when you’re standing on that podium.”

Joshua shook his head. The corners of his lips tensed up as he tried to suppress it from curling up.  

As they left the community centre, Jeonghan stole a glance at Joshua. He knew how determined Joshua was. At the same time, Jeonghan also knew that sometimes, Joshua’s worst enemy was his own self-doubt. He hoped that the pressure wouldn’t eat away at him. Most times, he put it on himself and Jeonghan hoped it wouldn’t weigh him down as much.

“For the record,” Jeonghan began, as they walked towards the bus stop, “I know you’ll be in Tokyo.”

Joshua glanced at him, caught off guard by the sincerity. Sometimes, those moments came more frequently recently. Jeonghan’s teasing would drop away then he’d say something so earnest that it left Joshua scrambling for a response. “Thanks,” Joshua said while trying not to let Jeonghan know of his appreciation.

Jeonghan grinned. “Of course, I’ll be there to inspire you. But don’t get too distracted by my presence, I know you’ll keep looking at me in the stands.”

Joshua rolled his eyes. He tried to suppress a smile. “You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

“By the way,” Jeonghan shifted with a smile as they walked down the road. “Is there anything else you like doing besides studying and fencing? And of course spending time with me.”

“I’m not sure,” Joshua shot him a side eye and a frown. He paused for a bit after. Truthfully, he hasn’t had much thought about it lately. “Fencing takes up a lot of my time.”

“Come on, there’s got to be something,” Jeonghan nudged. “I mean, your Eomma showed me some pictures...”

Joshua stopped dead in his tracks. “What pictures?”

“You know, High School. Guitar. Singing,” Jeonghan grinned, clearly enjoying Joshua’s flustered expression.  “Didn’t know you had a hidden talent, Joshuji.”

“I don’t do that anymore.”

“Why not? You’ve got to show me.”

Joshua shook his head firmly. “No way.”

“Come on, don’t be shy now, Joshuji,” Jeonghan said as if he was plotting something. Truthfully, he already had something. His grin widened as his eyes flicked back. Without warning, Jeonghan grabbed Joshua’s wrist and started pulling him.

“What are you doing?” Joshua asked as he stumbled for a bit.

OPEN MIC TONIGHT. 6:00 PM. 

The sign read in cursive. The flyer taped on the window inside the cafe practically affirmed it. Jeonghan stopped abruptly, his grin widening as he gestured toward the door.

“Here we are,” Jeonghan said triumphantly, practically dragging Joshua by the arm as they entered the café.

The café was cosy. The walls were painted in muted tones and displayed local art for sale. The tables were mostly occupied, but it wasn’t too crowded, just intimate enough to feel that people were watching. Joshua’s hand brushed against a wooden surface as Jeonghan tugged him forward. 

“No. No way,” Joshua protested, pulling back slightly. Although by now, at the back of his mind he knew that he was eventually going to lose the battle to Jeonghan. He often did, and he doesn’t even know why he gives in. The aroma of single-origin coffee informed him of that. As well as the inanimate crowd discussing the implications of the last slam-poetry piece. 

“What’s your name?” the host asked Joshua nicely.

Joshua felt his throat tighten. “Uh... Joshua. Hong.”

“And where are you from?”

“Here — I mean downtown,” he muttered.

The host smiled at him. She probably sensed his nerves but that didn’t matter. They needed participants. And Joshua was already there. 

Joshua’s hands felt clammy. For the millionth time, he wondered how Jeonghan had roped him into this. Or how Jeonghan even managed to rope him into anything.

Joshua found himself standing at the small stage with a guitar he borrowed from the café itself. He scanned the crowd nervously, eyes flicking to Jeonghan, who sat at a nearby table, watching him with his usual grin.

He took a deep breath, strummed the first chord, and began to sing. His voice was quiet at first. Afterall, it’s been a while since he sang in front of a crowd. Then eventually, he got rid of the nerves. 

He glanced at Jeonghan again, expecting some kind of sardonic expression. But instead, he was smiling. Not grinning nor smirking. Smiling . Tenderly smiling.

Joshua looked away quickly, focusing on the empty spot at the back of the room. But he found himself looking back at Jeonghan, who was still watching him intently, his expression unchanged, if not even softer. 

By the time Joshua strummed the final chord, the room felt eerily quiet. The patrons clapped politely, but Jeonghan didn’t move. He didn’t clap, didn’t speak—just stared. Softly. Like Joshua was the only person in the room.

Joshua stepped off the stage, and set the guitar aside on the stand. His chest was doing certain things. The kind of flutters reserved for gold-medal matches. As he made his way through the tables, Jeonghan met him halfway, his expression still the same. 

“That was really good,” Jeonghan said. It was steady, genuine. No hint of teasing.

Joshua paused and blinked. He tried to process the words. Moreover, the timbre of Jeonghan’s voice and the way he was looking was too gentle. He wasn’t used to this version of him. It felt strange, unnerving. He felt like his respiratory centre got hit.

For a moment, Joshua wondered if something was wrong.

“Although... you could’ve at least winked and made a heart. In Korea, we call it aegyo ,” Jeonghan added, breaking the moment.

Joshua blinked again. Ah, there we go . That made it easier for him to breathe. He rolled his eyes, and pulled himself back. “Aegyo? I’ll leave that to you.”

Jeonghan’s grin widened. “You should be an idol, Joshuji. You’ve got the face for it.”

“Sure, if you train with me,” Joshua bantered back.

“As long as you don’t quit,” Jeonghan rebutted. “Otherwise, I would too.”

Joshua smirked back slightly. It was better like this for him rather than whatever it was when Yoon Jeonghan stared at him. At least it didn’t make him feel that weird. 

They lingered for a while, listening to the last few performances of the night. But after a while, Joshua found his attention drifting, sometimes to Jeonghan but he’d rather not show it. Eventually, his gaze landed on the clock above the counter.

“We should get going,” Joshua said quietly as he nudged Jeonghan.

Jeonghan nodded, and they slipped out of the café, greeted by the night air. On their way back, the notorious LA traffic came into full effect. They sat in near silence for the next thirty minutes, with the bus barely crawling through the gridlock.

Jeonghan let out an exaggerated sigh. “By this time in Seoul, we’d already be at  home.”

Joshua looked at the gridlock outside. “It’s not that bad.”

“Oh, it’s bad. I didn’t expect LA to be this slow,” Jeonghan argued. “I thought New York was bad, but this is a disaster. I don’t understand why America just won’t invest in public transport. In Seoul, I could get everywhere on a train and a bus.”

“You take public transport?”

“Obviously, Joshuji. I mean we are on a bus right now, aren’t we?”

“You know what I mean,” Joshua raised. “I thought you’d get driven around to get to places.”

Jeonghan tilted his head. “Yeah, but honestly? I prefer taking the bus or train. It’s faster, more convenient. My parents don’t even know I do it—if they did, they'd probably lose it.” He gripped tightly on the handle. “There’s no point in owning a car if your transport card can take you anywhere.”

Joshua took that in. In some ways, Jeonghan really knew how to surprise him. He wasn’t the type of person he’d picture riding public transport by choice. Yet, here he was, so casually admitting that he prefers it. 

“If LA just got rid of half the cars and replaced them with trains, we wouldn’t be wasting time like this,” Jeonghan grumbled. 

Joshua found himself almost laughing at Jeonghan’s proposal. Not because it was absurd. In fact, it made sense. It’s just that he was surprised he thought about it. And it caught him off guard—how Jeonghan could so easily switch between banter and insight. It was hard to reconcile these two sides, but at the same time, it made Joshua kind of smile. He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t help it. At least it was easy for him to hide it. 

“When I get back to Korea, I’m definitely not going to miss this,” Jeonghan declared. 

When he gets back to Korea, right. The last grain of the sand was falling. Joshua had known it all along— much like the stocks on his mother’s store shelf, everything had an expiration date. He stared out at the traffic. He wasn’t sure why it gnawed at him so much, but it did. 

En garde. That’s right. En garde.

🤺⚔

The salle was brightly lit. But despite the brightness, it felt hollow. The room was too still, too quiet, save for the sound of Joshua's steady breathing and the sharp clack of his foil as he moved through the drills.

En garde. Attaque. Riposte.

His eyes strobed toward the row of empty chairs near the door. They had been vacant for almost two hours now, but Joshua found himself glancing there more often. 

Joshua shook his head, then frowned.

Focus.

Flèche. Parry. Retreat.

Suddenly, the door creaked open. The sound snapped Joshua out of his trance. The cadence of the footsteps told him who it was. He didn’t even have to look to know.

“Your classes don't end this late,” Joshua muttered, not bothering to turn around. 

Jeonghan’s familiar laugh broke as it beamed through the salle. “Are you keeping tabs on me now?” he said as he walked over. “Didn’t realise you missed me that much, Joshuji.”

Joshua didn’t respond, continuing his drills in silence. His foil slicing through the air in a seemingly unbothered motion.

“Don’t worry,” Jeonghan said, walking closer. “I just got held up.”

“I didn’t ask,” Joshua shot back as his eyes were focused on the empty space in front of him.

Jeonghan leaned against the nearest wall, watching Joshua move through. After a beat, Jeonghan tilted his head. His eyes narrowed as he studied Joshua closely. “Can you show me how this fencing thing really works?” he started. 

Joshua paused. He turned to finally face Jeonghan and his usual expression. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” Jeonghan replied. “I mean, I’ve seen you train and compete, but I want to understand it. Properly.”

Joshua stared at him for a second, trying to judge the undercurrents of his words. “You really want to know?”

Jeonghan shrugged. “Yeah. Besides, I’ll be back in Seoul soon. Who knows when I’ll get the chance, especially from you?” 

Joshua didn't answer but his movements slowed. 

“Are you going to miss me, Joshuji?”

“No,” Joshua said, albeit it came out harsher than he played it out in his head. 

“You say that now, but you’ll come looking for me when no one else is bothering you.”

Joshua paused. His retort got lost somewhere. Just for a moment he looked maybe wistful. He wiped his face with a towel, his movements were uncertain but very deliberate. He reached for his mask and pulled it over his face. 

Jeonghan watched him closely, his grin faltering. He shifted his weight, seemingly second-guessing himself for now. He did it too often nowadays, especially after they came back from spring break in LA. 

Joshua said nothing. He walked over to the rack, grabbed a clean mask, and thrust it towards Jeonghan then gestured to a nearby rack. “Pick up a sword.”

Jeonghan took the mask. “Oh, I thought you were going to make me leave.”

Joshua’s expression remained hidden. But his sigh gave away some of what he was thinking. “If you really want to understand, let’s start properly.”

Jeonghan’s lips curled into a smile from a slight twitch. He picked a weapon which looked similar to the one Joshua was holding. “Alright, Lord Hong. Please enlighten me.”

Joshua moved to stand opposite Jeonghan. “First off, this and what you’re holding is a foil,” he began. “In fencing, there are three weapons: foil, epee, and sabre. The rules are different for each.”

Despite casually swishing the foil through the air, Jeonghan was surprisingly in full attention. He flexed the blade, watching it bend slightly with each movement, but it was clear that he was interested. 

“This is what Mark uses, epee.” Joshua raised, pointing to another weapon. “You can hit anywhere—head, arms, legs, all of it counts. ”

“So basically, stab wherever you want?”

Joshua rolled his eyes. “It’s not as reckless as you think. It requires a lot of planning and patience.”

“Ah, it does sound like Mark.”

Joshua pointed to another sword hanging on the rack. “And then this one is sabre. It’s faster, more aggressive. You can score with slashing motions and hit above the waist. Legs can’t cross here. The rules also encourage you to make the first move. Jackson fences it.”

“Seems like him,” Jeonghan grinned, recounting how Jackson approached things. He swished the foil he was holding around again, clashing it gently with Joshua’s weapon. “So what about this and that?”

Joshua leaned back slightly, his foil to block the playful strike. “Foil’s more about control, precision, strategy. You can only hit the torso and only with the tip of the blade. ”

Jeonghan gave him a sideways glance. He smiled, it was soft. Sincere even. “Foil suits you, Joshuji.”

Joshua brushed past it. It was easier for him to think it didn’t mean any other thing. “Alright, enough. Let me show you how it’s done.” He stepped behind Jeonghan, gently taking hold of his arm to guide his posture. “Hold it like this. Keep your arm steady, but not rigid.”

“You could’ve just asked if you wanted to get close.” Jeonghan quipped.

Joshua ignored it and kept his focus on the form. “Now your feet. You need to keep your balance at all times.” He nudged Jeonghan’s legs into the correct stance. 

“Oh, I like this.”

“Stop talking,” Joshua stiffened. “If you keep talking, you’ll never learn anything.”

Jeonghan grinned wider. “Don’t sweat it, I’m a quick learner.”

Joshua adjusted Jeonghan’s grip on the foil. His fingers brushing lightly against Jeonghan’s. Which caused an uninvited flutter. He stepped back. “Alright, let’s start with the basics. Lunge. ”

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. He lowered his tone, the same tune that always got on Joshua’s nerves. “So strict, Joshuji.”

Joshua’s patience was thinning. He guided Jeonghan through a practice bout. Yet, his remarks were endless. “I think I’m getting the hang of this,” Jeonghan teased, aiming for a touch to his leg but missing by inches.

“What did I tell you about foil boundaries?” Joshua asked then proceeded to mutter. “You seem to have no regard for that from the start.”

Jeonghan shrugged as he tried to hit directly.

Joshua’s eyes narrowed. He tried his best to keep his voice in tune. “It’s not that simple. You can’t just hit whenever and wherever you like.”

“Isn’t it whoever lands a hit first that wins?” Jeonghan asked. He might not understand what’s going on or maybe just preferred to play dumb. Joshua had a feeling it was more of the latter.

Joshua sighed. He was tired. Clearly. “No. In foil, it’s about right of way. You can’t just hit without thinking. There are rules, you have to get priority.” He spoke methodically. 

“Right of way? Priority?” Jeonghan echoed.  “So I can’t just charge in?”

“Not if you want to win,” Joshua muttered. “Parry.”

As the sound of metals clashed, Jeonghan sensed that the air had gone heavy. For some reason or another, he felt all those words were layered with something. “You know,” he said, “you’re a lot more fun when you’re not too serious.”

Joshua’s thoughts clouded. His focus was dimming, his patience frayed thin. “You’ve had some experience with kendo, right?” Joshua said, parrying another sloppy swig as he shifted the conversation. “But this isn’t kendo. It’s different.”

Riposte.

Jeonghan laughed quickly as he felt a tickle on his torso. “Yeah, I know. Kendo uses bamboo.”

Jeonghan stepped in too abruptly. He found his arm against Joshua's torso. “Halt!” Joshua called out. He stepped back sharply. “Corps à corps.”

Jeonghan lowered his hand. “Oh, is that not allowed?”

Joshua’s grip tightened. “I told you, you can’t just get too close whenever you feel like it.”

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. Suddenly, the ambience felt like it was surrounded by lead instead of gases. Joshua’s strikes became faster, forceful. It was like he wasn’t playing anymore. It was aggressive, with each landing with a force Jeonghan hadn’t seen before.

“You’re taking this very seriously, Joshuji,” Jeonghan murmured.

“I always take fencing seriously,” Joshua replied. His strikes came harder, faster. Different. Like he just lost his sense of rhythm.

Jeonghan misstepped. He was too close again. Their foils clashed, and Joshua halted. His ripped his mask off with an abrupt motion, his breath laboured as he stared at Jeonghan. Jeonghan followed suit, albeit slow and composed.

He looked at the expression written on  Joshua’s face. How he held the foil with a slight tremor. Jeonghan stepped forward. “You’re so tense,” he remarked but this time it was gentle, not teasing.

“Joshuji.” 

Joshua said nothing. Too close.

“Should I kiss you?”

Joshua froze. Halted.

His heart slammed. He had no retort. Just silence. Deafening silence. The usual sharpness in his eyes dulled. Jeonghan saw something in Joshua’s eyes that he had never seen before. 

Horror. 

Joshua pulled his mask back on. His inhales and exhales became abrupt and rushing. Without another word, he turned on his heel and scurried toward the exit. He didn’t look back.

Retreat.

Jeonghan stood there, dumbfounded. For the first time, Joshua hadn’t dismissed his teasing, hadn’t shot back. Jeonghan’s heart sank. He hadn’t expected that—he’d only meant to lighten the mood. He wanted to diffuse the tension. But now it felt like he really had crossed a line. He didn’t know there was even one.

He let out a slow breath, loosening his grip. For the first time, Jeonghan was unsure of how close he should be.

But for sure now, the salle felt even more hollow.

🤺⚔

“Remind me again, how did you end up in Sports?” 

Jeonghan turned his head to check how his younger colleague tilted his head in curiosity. Truth be told, neither of them were exactly supposed to be there but they are. Whether it was a blessing or a curse, Kwon Soonyoung didn’t really care. He was more interested in why Jeonghan, after spending his early years at The Cubic as a thorn to the elite, was suddenly covering the Olympics

“Work-life balance,” Jeonghan gave a half-smile. “Plus, it’s a relief not having to pipe down online or change numbers every two months.”

While most people tried to curb it as they grew older, Yoon Jeonghan had discovered that his talent for being a nuisance is, in fact, an art. He used it to pry into suspicious activities and gain leverage over those with far too much leverage. At The Cubic , he quickly gained a reputation for butting heads with power and privilege, often landing himself in the bad graces of his father’s colleagues. Immediately after graduating, he had spent the past few years working on high-stakes stories, and every bit of it involved living dangerously. 

The work had given him some inconveniences—on his social life, his health, and most notably, his safety. Recently, he decided that maybe a change of pace was necessary. Covering sports felt like a breath of fresh air compared to the intensity of his previous assignments. At least he only wagers his pride, and not his life. Plus, there was still that adrenaline, the kind that comes with watching other people win, and not the kind that comes with realising he’s being trailed by someone who doesn’t appreciate his snooping.

“Well, that’s good,” Soonyoung replied with a grin. He wiped off a bead of sweat forming in his forehead. “Ugh, Tokyo is so incredibly humid today, I hope the archery people are good,” he added.

Jeonghan smirked. “Should be an interesting day for them.”

“Interesting, but they drive me nuts.” Soonyoung let out a chuckle as they approached the well-cooled building. 

In spite of its name, the venue for today’s bouts isn’t such a mess. Quite the opposite actually. While Makuhari Messe may sound like a place where confusion and disorder reign, it was, in reality, an exhibition centre. For today, and the next few, the display was a bunch of strips with sensors — and in between them was layered tunes of swishing and clinking.

As they reached the sidelines of the event bowl, Jeonghan was greeted by a tall, good-looking man with a sharp jawline and a focused demeanour. Jeonghan was familiar with him. Encountered him many times in his university’s own fencing team.

“For a second, I thought you were my friend from the US team,” the man said with a small smile.

“Sehun,” Jeonghan returned the smile, offering a polite bow. “Easy mistake to make but it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve taken me for someone else,” he said.

Sehun shrugged, looked at him and remarked, “I thought you were with football. Isn’t that where the big story is?”

Jeonghan chuckled. “I thought so too, but the team originally assigned to cover fencing had their flight delayed. They’re having trouble rebooking, so I got pulled in.”

“Makes sense,” Sehun nodded. “There’s always different people coming in for different days.”

“Yeah. They’re just pulling whoever they can.”

In the name of truth and objectivity, Jeonghan would have to disclose that it wasn’t the whole story. He didn’t lie about the fight delays though. Nor the part where they pulled out people to cover. He was really supposed to be in a press conference with Son Heungmin today too. Those bits were true. But when an opportunity presents itself, Yoon Jeonghan would have preferred to seize it. It just so happened that he graciously offered a junior colleague a “career-defining opportunity.”

Despite priding himself in fact-finding, he hadn’t even dared to check the roster of any other foil fencing teams. Especially not the US fencing team. Jeonghan knows exactly why he hadn’t done a simple search to confirm his strong suspicions. It was better for him to see for himself. 

“This is our captain, Choi Minho,” Sehun introduced the man who had just removed his team Jacket who greeted with a polite nod of acknowledgement. 

He then turned to introduce the rest of the Korean men’s foil team. 

“This is Kim Doyoung, and Chae Hyungwon,” he continued, gesturing towards two men standing nearby. “And Coach Lee.” Nodding to a clean-cut looking man with a clipboard who gave a curt nod in return.

A few more steps brought them to another fencer, who was wiping off some dirt on his weapon. “And this is my friend Johnny Suh from the USA,” Sehun introduced.

“Hey, nice to meet you,” Johnny said, extending a hand. His gaze briefly flickered to the press pass hanging around Jeonghan’s neck. “Oh, The Cubic , huh? They reached out to us for an interview. Something about gyopos in the Olympics right?”

“Yeah,” Jeonghan said as he shook Johnny’s hand. “A whole exclusive feature on Korean-Americans on the US team.” 

While the editors framed it as a simple human-interest story, Jeonghan knew better. It was exactly why he talked it out with them yesterday. He reminded them that he knew things — nothing scandalous, per se. Just some karaoke and dancing here and there but of course, they couldn’t risk that. Not when he also threatened them with a resignation letter. In the end, they resolved that they had to give him the not-so-coveted foil fencing assignment. It was better to handle things himself, rather than let anyone get too curious and dig into family histories.

They exchanged some more pleasantries but his mind was elsewhere. His eyes continued to survey the scene. The clatter and swish of blades, the sharp commands from the coaches felt more like he was listening to some performed libretto. 

Eventually, Jeonghan’s gaze found itself towards a person at the far end of the room. The person moved with a kind of precision that was oddly familiar but definitely more refined. It was jarring enough that it stirred something. His heart quickened. His pulses ran through. He couldn’t see the face but something about the way they carried the blade felt clear.

Could it be?

Before he could further dwell on it, he was pulled out of his reverie.

“Jeonghan, long time no see!” a voice boomed. It belonged to someone familiar, definitely happy to see him after some years.

“Jackson,” Jeonghan responded with enthusiasm as well. “Congrats on the gold."

“Thanks!” Jackson replied. “I didn’t see you during the Sabre matches.”

“Ah, well, I’m only covering for today,” Jeonghan explained. 

Jackson noticed the pass which hung around Jeonghan’s neck. “Oh so you became a reporter?” he questioned. “Not gonna lie, always thought you’d follow into politics.”

“I thought so too, for a while,” Jeonghan laughed. “But I’m better off on this side than there.”

Jackson crossed his arms in intrigue. “I’ve never seen you cover fencing before. Not your usual beat, is it?”

Jeonghan shook his head. “No, it’s not. I’ve only recently started in sports. Before this, I did something else.”

“What was it?”

“Investigative journalism.”

Jackson’s eyes widened in surprise. At the same time there was a hint of admiration as well as worry. “Investigative journalism? Is that why you had to wipe yourself out on the internet?”

“Yeah, that’s why,” Jeonghan nodded in affirmation. “Especially after the work I did exposing that particular conglomerate. Had to be cautious. Poke once, now the hive thinks you’re a target.”

“Wait,” Jackson’s eyebrows raised. “Was it that H.Y.B. exposé? I read a translated report. The story went worldwide. The initials in the byline reminded me of your name but I didn’t make the connection back then.”

Jeonghan let out a small laugh. “Yeah, it’s funny. I wasn’t even looking for that kind of story.  But, you know how it goes… you roll a snowball and end up standing with a snowman.”

“So, it started off as something trivial?”

Jeonghan nodded. “Yeah, I was just looking into some reports about stolen cell phones from a company’s marketing office. Turns out it wasn’t just petty thefts. ”

Jackson whistled softly. “But that company’s chairman… did you know about..?” 

“I knew,” Jeonghan gaze dropped to the ground. He grazed his thumb on the edge of his pass. “Stumbled onto information that was… too close.”

“Too close, yeah.” Jackson let out a low whistle. He shook his head at the information. “No wonder you had to disappear for a while. But that still doesn’t explain why you haven’t logged onto other accounts after you left for Seoul.”

“Oh, that,” Jeonghan chuckled, a bit sheepishly. “It’s kind of embarrassing. Tried to detox for a bit then got locked out for suspicious activity or something. Then my old phone number won’t work anymore.”

“Well, it’s good to see you again,” Jackson laughed as he gave Jeonghan a friendly pat on the back. “I’m glad you’re doing alright. By the way did you—”

“Wait, hold up!” Johnny interjected as he appeared in a puff. “You two know each other?”

“Oh yeah, we go way back. Met at Stanford when this guy was on exchange.” Jackson replied. 

Johnny’s eyes widened with curiosity. “No kidding! Crazy small world.” Johnny turned and called over loudly, “Yo, Hong!”

From across the room, another fencer made his way over. He removed his mask with a swift motion as Jeonghan found himself staring at his unmistakable features—the same soft features, those unmistakable doe-like eyes that seemed to hold nebulae in them. 

Long time no see. How have you been? 

Jeonghan found himself unable to say it outloud. He had hoped for this, even expected. He played it out multiple times in his head. Imagine how it would happen. Yet, his mind was tangled with an unexpected rush of nerves and memories. He wanted to step forward, at the same time he wasn’t sure if that was a step in the right direction. 

Joshua looked at Jeonghan like he was a blank canvas. His expression is carefully neutral but also apparently curated. 

“Hello,” he gave a polite nod, keeping his tone fair. He didn’t even blink. Just stared at the press pass then straight into the depths of Jeonghan’s soul. 

“Uh…hi,” Jeonghan mustered as his voice tried its best to sound heard. 

He wanted to ask more. Ask Joshua how his eomma was doing. Find out what he’s up to. He wanted to explain himself. Tell Joshua he’s okay. Ask Joshua if they’re okay. 

And yet at that moment, Jeonghan found everything caged in his head. He couldn’t quite tell if Joshua was carefully minding the gap in between.  

Joshua didn’t linger. He quickly excused himself to continue his warm-up. “I should get back. We have bouts coming up soon.”

Johnny watched Joshua’s retreating figure in pure befuddlement. His forehead scrunched in apparent confusion of his demeanour. Even in high-stakes tournaments, Joshua engaged in a bit of friendly chatter. Even with strangers. “That’s strange. But I guess it’s the olympic nerves.”

“Just give him time,” Jackson advised as he turned to Jeonghan. 

Jeonghan nodded. He tried his best to suppress his self-disappointment. 

“Yeah, I get it,” he replied, but his tone betrayed the turmoil churning within.

Maybe Joshua was still angry, or perhaps he was just under pressure. Either way, Jeonghan couldn’t find the storm within him calming, nor could he fight it. He was used to being fearless. He charged headfirst into stories that others would shy away from. But now he felt paralysed.

🤺⚔

EN GARDE! PRÊTS? ALLEZ!

The announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers, marking the start of the quarter-final bouts. For the earlier part of the day, Jeonghan typically found himself darting his eyes towards the piste where Joshua was on. 

Joshua moved with an unusual lightning speed. Like he was always rushing. The usual precision had been replaced by something sharper, more forceful. His blade cut through rashly. Like he was always chasing something away.

“Hong is unusually aggressive today,” one voice murmured.

Touché, gauche.

HONG (USA) 1 - OSAKI (JPN) 0

Joshua scored the first point, but it seems like his head was in scalding water. He continued to press forward. Relentless but also reckless. He lunged forward and almost flew, got too close which ended in a callout.

HALT! CORPS À CORPS!

The referee raised their hand to stop the bout. 

HONG, YELLOW CARD! 

“Does he think he’s in sabre?” a spectator said, commenting on the action. 

Jeonghan could feel his own pulses frantically pounding. This wasn’t the Joshua he knew. This wasn’t his usual waltz of strategic strikes and careful counters. 

The bout resumed, the referee’s commands rang once more with every point.

Touché.

HONG (USA) 5 - OSAKI (JPN) 5

The tension on and around the piste was palpable. Joshua’s grip was tight enough to turn his fingers white under the glove. 

“He's all over the place today,” another commented with some apparent concern. "What happened?"

Touché.

HONG (USA) 10 - OSAKI (JPN) 11

The home team fencer capitalised on Joshua's lack of composure, finding the openings left and right. As the referee announced the score, Osaki pumped his fist in a brief celebration as the crowd responded with an applause. Afterall, they were in Tokyo. 

Jeonghan watched as Joshua whacked his arm into the air. What is he doing? Jeonghan thought, his own breath was hitching as he watched Joshua’s erratic movements. Is it because — 

EN GARDE! 

The referee’s call rang through once more. 

Joshua took a deep breath before he got into position, his chest rising and falling sluggishly as he forced himself to slow down. 

PRÊTS?

Focus.

ALLEZ!

Focus. Pull yourself together.

Attaque. Touché.

HONG (USA) 11- OSAKI (JPN) 11

Joshua lifted his mask for a moment. He wiped off a bead of sweat from his brow. His hand trembled slightly.

EN GARDE! PRÊTS? ALLEZ!

Joshua quickly attacks down the centre, but the opponent skillfully parries. The counterattack came swiftly, forcing Joshua to retreat. His feet scrambled backward toward the edge of the piste.

HALT!

The referee’s voice cut through the noise.

HONG, RED CARD! OUT OF BOUNDS!

The crowd buzzed with mixed reactions. But the majority were clearly elated. 

Jeonghan watched Joshua closely as he shook his head. There was a slight tremor with the way he flexed his foil. The muted cheers of the crowd only exacerbated what was weighing him down at the moment.

The scoreboard updated.

HONG (USA) 13- OSAKI (JPN) 14

“Hong is so out of it,” another reporter muttered, leaning over their notepad. “If he keeps this up, he might not even have a chance to step on the podium.”

Jeonghan’s mind screamed in silent protest. Come on, Joshuj… Joshua. You’ve got this. 

Osaki made the first move. But Joshua anticipated it. With a flick of his wrist, he parried the attack. He gained priority with the exchange, and in a split second, he saw his chance.

Touché.

The referee called the point as the tip of Joshua’s weapon made contact.

HONG (USA) 14- OSAKI (JPN) 14

A collective gasp rippled through the home crowd as Joshua made it even. 

Joshua took a deep breath, his grip tightening around the handle of his foil. His eyes were fixed on Osaki, but his thoughts were all over the place. Focus. He couldn’t let this slip. Not now.

EN GARDE! PRÊTS? ALLEZ!

The referee's command sent them both into motion. The Japanese fencer initiated a rapid attack, then the American countered. Joshua’s blade darted forward. Then it touched. 

Touché.

HONG (USA) 15 - OSAKI (JPN) 14

Applause erupted in the hall as Joshua mutedly waved around in respect of it. As he stepped back from the piste, it was clear that he was still not himself. His face was far too taut, his eyes were too weary. Even the way he removed his mask was very much filled with doubt.

From where he was seated, Jeonghan could see the coach’s lips moving, asking Joshua to calm down, to pull himself together.

“What’s with you today?” the coach’s voice blared, fighting with the crowd’s murmurs.

Joshua didn’t respond immediately. His gaze was distant yet it scoured through the media stand. Jeonghan looked away as he did that. But he found himself wishing he could say something, loosen him up, just like old times. 

The minutes went on and soon, the announcer’s voice signalled the start of the semifinals.

Joshua stepped back onto the piste but it was clear he was still not into it. The way he stomped into it yet again, uncharacteristic. 

EN GARDE! PRÊTS? ALLEZ!

The match began, and right away, Joshua made a misstep. His footwork was clumsy. He almost stumbled back, his retreat unsteady.

Joshua attempted to regroup, his eyes narrowing in focus. He lunged forward, trying to regain the offensive, but his weapon only sliced through the air. With a quick flick of his wrist, his opponent landed a clean touch.

Touché.

HONG (USA) 1 - OH (KOR) 2

Joshua’s face was a mask of frustration. He reset, trying to regain his composure, but it was clear he was not in the right headspace. He was chasing the match, not controlling it.

As the bout progressed, Joshua continued to make uncharacteristic mistakes. Each one was maximised by his opponent, who was fencing with poise, clearly in tune.

Touché.

HONG (USA) 4 - OH (KOR) 7

Joshua was struggling. His movements were disjointed, his timing off. It was as if he was fighting not just his opponent twice but also himself. The frustration was evident in every lunge, every swing of his blade.

HALT!

The referee sirened out.

HONG, YELLOW CARD! EARLY START!

The yellow card was another blow, and Joshua's frustration only deepened. He was usually composed, methodical, but today, he was unable to find his rhythm.

Touché.

HONG (USA) 6 - OH (KOR) 11

The score widened, and Joshua's errors grew more glaring. Each point against him seemed to chip at his confidence. He had a touch but missed the parry, allowing his opponent to score easily.

HONG (USA) 9 - OH (KOR) 13

Jeonghan felt his stomach get lanced. He knew he should be pleased—he was Korean, after all, and Oh Sehun was an acquaintance. But watching Joshua falter on the piste, his usual grace and precision replaced by a frantic desperation. It made his heart feel like it was the one being stabbed.

EN GARDE! 

He knew he was supposed to cheer for Oh Sehun, but how could he?

PRÊTS? 

“One final touch from Oh, and he’s in for the gold medal match,” he hears from the stands. 

ALLEZ!

Joshua lunged forward, then Sehun responded smoothly. He delivered the final blow which left no room for doubt.

Touché.

HONG (USA) 9 - OH (KOR) 15

Joshua lowered his foil, and along with it his shoulders sagged. The crowd erupted into cheers for his opponent, who had fenced flawlessly. But those cheers only were drowned out by the throbbing sensation.

Jeonghan’s eyes were fixed on Joshua, watching helplessly as things unfolded. It was like watching someone drown, and he couldn’t even reach out. Even if he did, he wasn’t even sure Joshua would take his hand. He had seen this before. It cut even deeper now because the last time he saw Joshua like this was the last time he saw him at all.

It was a specific match day, and Joshua walked in with his usual calm precision. They hadn’t spoken in weeks. Jeonghan had pulled away, convinced he had overstepped. His quip about the kiss was meant to be just the usual banter. But the look on Joshua’s face had haunted Jeonghan ever since. It was as if something delicate had shattered.

So he gave Joshua some room. He told himself it was what Joshua needed. 

In the middle of that match, their eyes met across the room. He saw it himself, how Joshua looked immediately away. Like the sight of Jeonghan was too much. And then it happened, Joshua crumbled. He made mistakes— blunders that weren’t at all like him. It was minor at first, starting from missed steps but then it became glaring errors. Each slip was like someone drove a knife to Jeonghan’s chest then twisted it over and over again. He felt his whole body numb but inside, it was pure turmoil.

It was like watching a flower vase fall and he was the one who knocked it over. This, he thought. This is confirmation.

Maybe his absence was what Joshua needed. Maybe that was the last time Jeonghan was allowed to see him.

Maybe it’s me, Jeonghan thought, as his chest made some heaves. Maybe I’m the reason he’s so distracted. He replayed it in his mind. He should’ve seen it. He should’ve known better than to get too close. 

I should stop bothering him. 

Jeonghan sighed. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want to miss seeing Joshua chase his dreams. But at the same time, he couldn't stand being the reason why Joshua was thrown off. 

I shouldn’t have gone here.

He turned to Soonyoung, who was typing out the hashtags on his tablet. “Hey, can you keep recording the next bouts for me?” Jeonghan asked. “I’ll be back before the gold medal match.”

Soonyoung glanced up, surprised at the request and most importantly, the manner of delivery. “Sure, but don’t take too long. You don’t want to miss out on the good stuff. If Oh Sehun pulls off the upset against Laurent, Paribagetteu will give out pineapple baguettes.”

Jeonghan nodded with a smile that only belonged to vaudeville theatres. “Yeah, I just need a minute.”

He turned away, walking briskly out of the media stand. Like how the venue’s name sounded, Jeonghan’s thoughts were a mess. He took a look at where the fencers rested. Took one final look at Joshua Hong, then a deep breath. 

Then Yoon Jeonghan proceeded to exit.

En garde.

As he stepped into the quieter hallway, the sound of the crowd began to fade. The cheers were replaced by the hollow emptiness of the corridor as the calls for the Women’s sabre events eased into a decrescendo. 

“YOON JEONGHAN!” a familiar voice swished through

The voice was sharp. Jeonghan stopped dead in his tracks. He turned slowly. His heart stomped in his ribcage.

“Joshu…” Jeonghan faltered as he found Joshua’s eyes. Looking at him, calling him that, those things used to be like breathing air for him. Right now, he wasn’t even sure if had any right to be in the same space.  

Joshua stood at the end of the hallway, geared up without the mask. His face was flushed, not from exertion. It was from something else, not his last bout. Jeonghan was certain he hadn’t seen that look before. The way Joshua bit his lip and crunched his face only scratched the surface. It was as if he drew from something deeper. 

Prêts.

“For someone who’s supposedly spent his time digging up dirt on conglomerates,” he abraded deeply, “you sure are a coward.”

Jeonghan blinked. It stung. But it’s true. That’s why it stung. “How did you—”

“I’ve been practising reading Korean, reporter YJH of The Cubic. ” Joshua interjected as his eyes narrowed. “I read articles. You should have at least given me the courtesy of saying goodbye.”

The accusation hit Jeonghan like a hammer. At the back of his mind, he was expecting it. But even that didn’t even cushion it. “I… I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I thought—”

“Thought what?” Joshua cut him off. His voice tented with every word. “That disappearing would somehow make things easier? You just… vanished. Do you have any idea what that felt like?”

Jeonghan swallowed hard. “I thought I might be throwing you off,” Jeonghan confessed. “Today, too. I thought maybe I was a distraction. This is your dream. I didn’t want to get in the way of it.”

Joshua’s face twisted. His hands clenched while shaking. “You think you’re all that, huh?” he snapped. His voice cracked.

“I thought it might be better to just support you from afar…”

“Better for who, Yoon Jeonghan?!” Joshua’s eyes widened. He took a step closer, his breath ragged. “You didn’t even give me a choice.”

Jeonghan didn’t respond. He couldn’t respond. He stayed silent, braced for the burning.

“I was going to talk to you,” Joshua continued. His hands were trembling while his breath was even more shaky. “I just needed time to clear my head. I was so overwhelmed. But you... you just left, without a word.” On that last word, his voice cracked. He continued to step forward. “Do you know how hard I tried to find you?”

Jeonghan blinked. He wasn’t prepared to hear that. His stomach twisted. He didn’t even consider that. 

“I reached out to everyone I could think of,” Joshua pushed out. “I checked with Jackson, your classmates, even your old exchange program coordinator. I tried every email, every number, anything. It was like you didn’t exist anymore. Like you didn’t want to be found.”

Jeonghan’s mouth fell open. He hadn’t known. He hadn’t realised Joshua had gone to such lengths. “I didn’t know you did that… I didn’t think you’d ca—”

“Care?” Joshua cut in. “God not only are you a coward, you’re also such an idiot”

Jeonghan flinched at the words. It’s true. Both of them were. His fingers twitched while his nape stiffened. The lanyard around his neck felt like a ligature. 

Joshua took another step forward. His voice mellowed. 

“You should have handed it to me personally and not tuck it away in my old fencing bag, in a pocket I don’t even open that often,” he said. “When we meet again, maybe in Tokyo, I might really just kiss you.”

“You read it?”

“A year,” Joshua said. “For a whole damn year I was so sure I was over you, but I found it, I read it, that letter, I read it. Over and over again.”

Jeonghan dug his thumbs on his index fingers. He prided himself in rebuttals and reply speeches, but when it came to Joshua Hong, he was at a loss for words.

“I wondered why you didn’t just… say something,” Joshua continued, more hushed than before.

“I was scared,” Jeonghan admitted. His voice was breaking but he didn’t care anymore. “I was getting in your way. I didn’t want to ruin things with my feelings for you, so I thought it would be better like that even if it killed me everyday.”

“You think too little of yourself,” Joshua responded quietly. “And maybe too little of me, too.”

There was a brief silence. The air was thick. Even thicker than one in the event bowl itself. Joshua stepped closer. “That day at the salle,” Joshua began gently, “When you joked about kissing me—”

Jeonghan recalled Joshua’s expression after that quip again. It made him stiff for a bit before he remembered how much he regretted saying it. 

“It hit me then… that I wanted you to do it,” Joshua mustered to continue as Jeonghan widened his eyes. “I was so overwhelmed by everything. How you got through me without even realizing it. How we were so different. How you’d have to go back to your life in Korea eventually. What you really think about me. And whether all your teasing meant something.”

Jeonghan’s chest tightened. He didn’t realise then how much Joshua went through, nor if it even touched a gyri of his brain.

“I didn’t know how to handle it,” Joshua said. “By the time I sorted it out... you were already gone.”

Joshua reached out. Slowly put up his arm as his thumb lingered on Jeonghan’s cheek. Jeonghan's heart hammered even louder. He didn’t think about it that way. Joshua was also in so much pain, all because he stayed away. He’d been such an idiot at the time. 

“Jeonghan-ah,” Joshua said it like a lullaby. “Don’t disappear on me again.”

Allez.

“I won’t,” Jeonghan promised. “I’ve missed you, Joshuji.”

Joshua stepped even closer. His eyes traced the contours of Jeonghan’s face as if trying to memorise it all over again. He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to speak. The deep exhale gave it all away. The silence between them wasn’t heavy anymore. It wasn’t just in his imagination. 

Jeonghan came closer as well. The closest he’s ever been, and the closest Joshua had ever invited him in. He slipped his hand around Joshua’s waist. Beneath the fencing gear, in places where it could get hit, he felt the warmth of Joshua’s body. 

“So,” Joshua began not in a whisper nor a murmur but soft enough to make Jeonghan shiver. “We made it to Tokyo.”

“I told you so,” Jeonghan replied. His lips slowly curled into a subtle grin as their gazes locked. 

Jeonghan held Joshua’s eyes with a certain steadiness. Jeonghan hoped but never thought he’d get this close. Now that he was, he couldn’t imagine anything else. He doesn’t want to just imagine, rather he wanted to live through it. He leaned in slowly. There was enough time for Joshua to pull away if he wanted to. But he didn’t. His eyes fluttered closed as he dissolved the space between them too. 

It was like LA’s traffic — slow, but unlike it, it was not rushing at all. Careful but not exactly calculated. It was also long overdue. Jeonghan’s hand tightened on Joshua’s waist to pull him closer. Joshua found his fingers travelling up to Jeonghan’s shoulders, then slipped his arms towards his nape to match the pull. The kiss deepened further. Like it had to fill some gaps and gaping cracks. 

Joshua’s lips were warmer than Jeonghan had imagined, and each motion left him breathless. Joshua could taste a hint of coffee on Jeonghan’s breath, and somehow that made him lean even closer. The way their noses brushed against each other’s cheeks, and the sweeping sensation of the eyelashes against their skin  — all of those things sent each other into a spiralling tingle. 

Jeonghan smiled into the kiss. He wanted this. The sandman only knows how much he did. And the soft sighs that escaped between kisses told him Joshua also did. In fact, he made sure Jeonghan knew — he was waiting too long for this too. 

When Jeonghan’s eyes fluttered open, he saw Joshua with his familiar gaze. The same one he caught when Joshua thought he wasn’t looking. Jeonghan had never dared to ask. He wasn’t sure if he could handle the truth. But now most of all, he knew it really wasn’t just in his imagination.

Joshua let out a soft breath. He locked his fingers with Jeonghan’s, while the latter caressed his knuckles. Joshua’s lips curved into a smile that said more than it showed. He rested his head on Jeonghan’s shoulder and then whispered. “Make sure you watch me, okay?”

Jeonghan carressed back of Joshua’s head and threaded his free hand through his hair. His lips curved into a smile, which mirrored Joshua’s albeit had that infamous flavour to it. Too close — yet Joshua preferred it like that. Both of them did. “Okay, Joshuji,” he rolled off his tongue. “Give me a wave on the podium?” 

Joshua’s smile widened, his eyes regained that sparkle. He lifted his head, took a step back, took a look at Jeonghan before he finally pulled apart. Before he left, he glanced back again and lingered his eyes on Jeonghan. He wasn’t shaking. He was calm. Collected. Like he knew exactly what to do. Not on guard, but in full control. 

Jeonghan watched him go. He didn’t follow right away but he was certain, he didn’t have to mind the gap between them. There’s none of that now. Right now there was a different kind of adrenaline, serotonin, even oxytocin. 

He made his way back to his spot in the stands. Soonyoung turned to him with a puzzled expression.

“Oh?” Soonyoung raised an eyebrow as soon as he saw Jeonghan return. “I thought you’d skip the bronze medal match.”  

Jeonghan chuckled softly. He looked over the piste as the bout was called to a start. “I should be here,” he said simply. He was exactly there. Where he needed to be.

EN GARDE! PRÊTS? ALLEZ!

Touché.

HONG (USA) 15 - BAE (CAN) 11

🤺⚔

“Paris isn’t my thing,” Jeonghan said. He leaned his back against a railing at a river’s esplanade. “I’m more of a Rome person.”

Joshua turned his head over. “What’s wrong with Paris?”

“Paris is too much of a postcard,” he continued. “People come here expecting this idealised image only to find out it’s not all la vie en rose. Rome, on the other hand, doesn’t operate on pretence.”

Joshua leaned closer to the railing beside Jeonghan. It’s been some time since they were out like this but in between, he’s gotten used to Jeonghan’s complaining. “I think both places have their own charms. Some people love Paris, and others are drawn to Rome. It doesn’t necessarily mean one is better than the other.”

“But there’s something about this place that feels off.”

Joshua tilted his head, curious at what he meant. “You didn’t feel that way last time we were here.”

Jeonghan shrugged. “It’s not the same.”

Joshua took a second to check his expression. I see what this is . He observed how Jeonghan clenched on the railings. How he gritted his teeth in agitation. He chuckled at the sight. It shouldn’t have affected Jeonghan as much, but it did. He wasn’t hit by a baguette but it seems like he was in all kinds of pain.   

“Is this really about Paris and Rome?”

Jeonghan went into silence. He turned back to look out over the river, gazing into the distance. “I really wanted you to get that gold,” he mumbled. 

Joshua almost snorted. Afterall, Jeonghan to him was like a book he readily read and understood. “It's not the end of the world, you know.” 

“I know. It’s just… You worked so hard…”

Joshua gave a squeeze on Jeonghan’s forearm. “I appreciate it. But really, it’s okay. It wasn’t my day, a silver is still an improvement from a bronze and that’s not something to frown about.”

Jeonghan let out a sigh. His shoulders relaxed. “I guess so. It’s just hard to see you not get what you deserve.”

Cute. Joshua gave a chortle. He was touched. Still he found it funny how Jeonghan was more stressed while he’s at peace. “It’s enough that you’re here, cheering me on. Even if, technically, you’re supposed to be rooting for Oh Sehun.” He smirked, nudging Jeonghan. “How do you think The Cubic would react if they found out you’re upset about a Korean fencer winning his second individual gold?”

“They’d probably have me hand write an apology letter,” he said with a grin. “But clearly, I have divine taste. After all, I chose to support you, didn’t I?”

“Divine taste, huh? More like poor judgement for backing eventual second place,” Joshua threw at him. 

Jeonghan blinked. Joshua’s retorts had clearly levelled up. His words had a sharper edge, a more confident bite. Engage in mischief. Get it back at him thrice as much. That was them, and Jeonghan took pride in it.

“Your dad would probably think you have questionable taste too, considering how much he loves Paris,” Joshua added. “How’s Assemblyman Yoon doing, is he still livid?”

“Nowadays, he’s not so much. Sure he’s still trying to introduce me to his party but at least that old man learned that I’ll never be him or harabeoji ,” Jeonghan said with a shrug. “He likes that he can still brag about my reports and the fact that I’m with you.”

Joshua shook his head, then gave a muted laugh. “I’m flattered, really. Glad he’s not giving you a hard time anymore. And your mom. I feel like she brags about me more than I deserve.”

“She does,” Jeonghan affirmed then curved his lips into a smile. “They both do, actually. They love telling everyone that their son is dating an Olympic medalist and a future doctor.”

Joshua snickered. He lapped his eyes around Jeonghan’s face. He still had that smirk, but nowadays it serves another purpose other than to get on Joshua’s nerves. More than anything, it became calming. And Joshua always looked forward to seeing it. “I know you could’ve been doing events with a lot more interest, but thank you for always being there in competitions. Even if you’re working while you’re at it.”

“Does it bother you, Doctor Joshuji?” he rolled it off as he always did.

Joshua grinned as he didn’t not miss a beat. He parried. “Just remember, consultation fees won’t come cheap for you.”

Before Jeonghan could shoot back with another quip, they spotted Soonyoung at a nearby flower stall, frowning as he tried to count his coins.

“Need some help there?” Jeonghan asked.

Soonyoung looked up. He relaxed his scrunched eyebrows. “Yes, please! I didn’t realise this place is cash-only.”

Jeonghan reached into his wallet and handed Soonyoung a few bills. As he did, he noticed the bundle of sunflowers in Soonyoung’s hand. “What are those for?” he asked.

“They’re for Wonwoo,” Soonyoung replied.

“Wonwoo? Did you break up with Jihoon?” Jeonghan gasped as he questioned dramatically. “Are you trying to make a move on Wonwoo now? And does Jun know about this?”

Soonyoung frowned. He can never get used to his senior colleague’s antics. He always managed to stir the pot like that, but doubled down on it four years ago. Exactly around the time they came back from Tokyo. “No, we did not break up. These are for Wonwoo to give to Jun. He’s planning something big tonight.”

“Oh? What’s the occasion?” Jeonghan asked, intrigued.

“Jun is getting his second gold tonight,” Soonyoung said with a wide, all-knowing, and proud grin.

“But hasn’t Archery finished all their events now?” Jeonghan asked as he tilted his head. “Unless you mean—”

“Yes, ring. Gold ring.”

“Oh, so Wonwoo’s finally going to propose,” Jeonghan marvelled at his correct guess. 

Joshua leaned closer to Jeonghan. “Oh, it’s Junnie, right?”

Junnie. Jeonghan grinned at the nickname. Wonwoo’s Junnie . He still found it amusing how Joshua had become one of the few people who aren’t Wonwoo who could call him that. It was rare. When they first met, it was like they’d known each other for years, except there were also a lot of things Jun forgot to bring up unless of course, it’s asked.

“I forgot you two got close,” Jeonghan said.

“You know, he actually talks a lot,” Joshua chuckled. “But, honestly, I thought all his travels were for work. Didn’t realize he’d be winning gold here.”

“Yeah, he’s like that,” Jeonghan chuckled. “He tends to forget he holds a world record now.”

Soonyoung beamed. He held up the sunflowers with pride as if he received them on the podium while waving at the crowd. “I’m such a good friend, you know. I didn’t even ask Wonwoo to pay me back.”

Soonyoung’s shifted his eyes between Jeonghan and Joshua. He narrowed his eyes, as if trying to figure out something.

“I know I see him a lot since you re-opened your instagram,” Soonyoung said. “But what is this ?”

Jeonghan gave Joshua a knowing glance, then grinned. He recounted the first time Soonyoung met Joshua in Tokyo. Back then, Soonyoung thought Joshua didn’t know how to speak Korean. Naturally, Joshua played along as he let Soonyoung struggle for about a week or so. 

“Didn’t I always tell you to read the room?” Jeonghan directed. 

Joshua smirked as his fingers tightened around Jeonghan’s. “He’ll figure it out. I mean he beat his record in Tokyo but he’ll get it.”

Soonyoung’s eyes widened as it landed on their intertwined fingers. “Aha!”

He quickly smirked. “So this explains why you’re always off to the US whether it’s work or vacation! And how you’ve negotiated to keep getting fencing tournament assignments!” 

Soonyoung grinned even wider, as he put it all together. “Now it all makes sense—you looked way too happy when Na Jaemin got eliminated in the quarters, and absolutely devastated when Oh Sehun won that gold medal match.”

“I’ll let it slide this time, Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung stuck out his tongue. “You don’t even have anything against me,” he replied. “Enjoy your date now, and the next time you go to America, you better bring me something good!”

Soonyoung said a few words about needing to catch Wonwoo in a bus stop before Jun figured out anything, then bolted away. 

They continued down the path, the city’s golden lights flickered. It wasn’t exactly an impressionist painting but nonetheless there was a magical feel to it. The air was warm, but not as warm as the summers they’re used to. 

Jeonghan glanced over at Joshua who seemed to be admiring the street banners. “What are you thinking?”

Joshua took a moment. “I was just thinking that if I make it, LA 2028 will likely be my last,” he admitted. “I still do want that gold, and it would be nice to win it at home. But after that, I’ll have to do residency.”

Jeonghan took pride in Joshua’s determination. How he managed training, competitions, and medical school. “I honestly don’t know how you do it,” he admitted.

“It certainly wasn’t easy,” Joshua sighed. "Sometimes, I feel like I’m juggling so many things at once."

Joshua watched the swirl of tourists and locals weaving around them as they sat down on a park bench. Jeonghan chuckled softly, giving Joshua's palms a gentle massage to ease the tension. 

“Everything at your own pace,” Jeonghan said. “And for what it's worth, whatever you do, I’m here for you.”

Joshua turned to him with ease. “You always are, aren’t you? Whether we’re in Seoul or California. Even when you enlisted. I think we can handle whatever comes next.”

“We’ve done it for four years,” Jeonghan responded. “Made it through time zones and busy schedules.” 

Jeonghan’s arms wrapped around Joshua’s waist to pull him closer. “Speaking of which,” he calmly said. “I’ve got some news.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“Do you remember that thing I applied for?” Jeonghan said with a grin. 

“That news agency in New York?” Joshua asked. 

“Yep,” Jeonghan answered with a grin. “I’ve been accepted so, I’ll be moving in a few months.”

Joshua blinked. Then he broke into a broad smile. “Are you serious? That’s incredible!”

“It’s not California, but it’s significantly closer to you. A few hours on a plane instead of half a day,” Jeonghan continued. “And they also said I can also work remotely on some days so you’ll be seeing a lot more of me.”

“I’m so proud of you. Thank you for telling me,” Joshua looked up at Jeonghan as he nudged his head closer in an even more comfortable position. “It’s a big move but we’ve got it. Meet halfway like we always do.”

“Of course,” Jeonghan grinned. “Who knows, I might even get around to moving to California one day. The sunsets are a lot better there, and besides, Eomma loves me.”

Joshua rolled his eyes. “I might end up doing residency in New York anyway,” he said with a giggle. “Besides, New York has a proper subway.”

Jeonghan gave a kiss at Joshua’s temple then nuzzled cosy on his shoulder. “Wherever it is, as long as you keep letting me bother you, I’m good.”

“I think I’ve gotten pretty used to your pestering,” Joshua said as he continued to brush his fingers through Jeonghan’s hair as well. “Can’t imagine life without it now.”

“Obviously, I can’t leave you alone now,” Jeonghan replied smugly with the kind of confidence he got from years of being around. “I know you’ll miss me, Joshuji.”

Chapter Text

I. Jeonghan's Letter

Dear Joshuji, 

Can I still call you that? Nevermind. I guess it doesn’t matter now. 

Maybe you’ll never read this. Maybe you will. Though I doubt you’d even want to talk to me after that but I thought I owed you this much, at least. They said words left unsaid are just as bad as lying and I pride myself as a person of integrity. It’s funny though. With you, I never really knew how to put things directly.

At first, it was all just for fun. You were so composed when you rejected me at that library, and people rarely ever did that. If they had to say no, it was never an outright no—more like a last resort. So I found it amusing to get under your skin. To push your buttons when I see you somewhere just to see if you’d react. How could I not, I found you so cute. 

Eventually though, it stopped being just that. 

I found myself wanting to be around you a lot. I wanted to talk to you, know how your day was and, well, just get to know more about you. I wanted to ask what you were thinking, what things made you happy, sad, or got you stressed (except for me, of course). Things like that. I wanted to be that person for you. The one you could turn to. Get you to loosen up when things get too tense. I wanted to be the one who held your hand, or gave you a hug.

There was one time, you gave a rare compliment. You know, that paper on political impartiality, called it insightful or something. Naturally, I couldn’t let that slip without some fun. You told me to not push it, of course. But honestly, I was so happy. I’ve gotten good scores on papers before (you’re probably calling me a show-off right now though) but honestly, it meant so much more coming from you than any of it. You’re not one to throw around compliments lightly, especially towards me, and that’s why I treasured a lot. I kept replaying it in my head too much. 

Everyone saw you as so gentle, so calm, but I liked that with me, you weren’t really. At least not outright. I got to see sides of you that no one else did. And the more I saw, the less I knew how to handle it. I didn’t know where the line was, or how far I could go before I crossed it. The closer I got, the more terrified I was of distancing myself. Before I knew it, I already fell without even flying too close to the sun. But the thought of being the one to hold you back from everything you’re working so hard for scared me more than anything.

That day, when I last saw you, you were completely in your zone. You were fencing perfectly, as you always did. I was standing off to the side, watching like I always do. 

But then you looked at me. Our eyes met for just a second, but something shifted. You weren’t the same as you were when the bout started. And I couldn’t help but feel like it was my fault. Somehow, I felt like just being there was enough to throw you off your rhythm. 

I couldn’t stand the idea that I might be the reason you’d lose your focus, or worse, that I’d hold you back from everything you’re working so hard for. You have these big dreams, Joshuji: Olympics, med school, give your Eomma everything. So maybe, I thought I should pull back.

I told myself it would be better this way. I thought if I distanced myself, maybe you’d be able to focus again. Maybe you’d be better off without me there, hovering around you, derailing you from reaching everything you’ve worked for. I thought at least I can still support you in other ways, even when it’s from afar. I know I’m not good with this stuff, but I do need you to know that none of this was your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. 

I’m sorry to have to tell you like this but I’ll be flying back to Seoul sooner than expected. I’m not sure when I’ll get back to California or if I’ll ever be back but don’t miss me too much, okay?

Don’t be too hard on yourself too. Your Eomma will worry a lot. 

Your nuisance,

Yoon Jeonghan

P.S. When we meet again, maybe in Tokyo, I might really just kiss you.

II. Extra 1: Month 1

It must be an anomaly to have a forest surrounded by some corporate buildings. Yet, here they were just outside a forest near a sleek, glass-panelled headquarters of a famous entertainment company, who had a penchant for inserting the wilderness into everything. The place felt like a pocket of serenity. The air was still warm, though there was a certain crispness to it. It would take several more weeks before the leaves actually faded into warmer colours while the breeze turned cooler. 

Joshua took a deep breath to take the surroundings in. It’s been a month after Tokyo and several years since he’s gone to Seoul. He arrived after flying in from LA that morning but despite the long-haul, he didn’t feel tired at all. Especially now, with someone else looming around him. 

“So…” Joshua bit his lower lip as he started. “I’m starting med school this fall.”

Jeonghan turned to him as his eyes beamed, “I’m sure you’d kill it! Not kill but like heal… you get it!” Then gave a giddy squeal. 

Joshua laughed softly. Despite it, he had a lot of things in mind with it. “Yeah, but... there’s a lot to consider. Med school is demanding, and... it means…” He hesitated, then continued, “I'll still be fencing, you know, Paris 2024, but…” Joshua took a brief pause and thought about whether or not he should say it, “between that and your enlistment notice…”

Jeonghan blinked, surprised that Joshua had remembered. He had mentioned it casually during a late-night video call but didn’t think Joshua would dwell on it. “Oh, that,” Jeonghan said.

“Yeah, I mean there won’t be a lot of chances to see each other,” Joshua said quietly. Jeonghan examined his face before he flicked a finger to his cheek.

“Joshuji,” Jeonghan said with his signature grin. “You worry too much.”

Joshua gave a soft chuckle although his eyes still had that concern. “I just don’t want us to drift, you know?”

“We won’t,” Jeonghan said firmly. He tilted his head and gave Joshua’s wrist a squeeze. “I mean it was kind of my fault but we’ve been through worse. I told you, I won’t disappear on you.”

Joshua looked down at where their hands touched. The hands on his wrist felt grounding, if anything. “I know, I trust you, but... with med school, fencing, that one... it’s a lot.”

Jeonghan’s grip on his hand tightened, his gaze was sure. “It is a lot. But we’ve made it work for a month, haven’t we? And besides, you know where the barracks are.” He shot Joshua a mischievous grin, the same one that Joshua always looked forward to.

“I guess so,” Joshua sighed. “I’ll miss you though.”

“Oh?” Jeonghan’s grin widened as he picked up on it. “You finally said it. It took you years but you did!” 

Joshua rolled his eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, it is a big deal!” Jeonghan nudged at him. “I should ask them to publish this—‘Joshua Hong, Team USA Olympic fencer, Men’s Foil Bronze Medalist, confesses he’ll miss Reporter Yoon Jeonghan’”

Joshua shook his head. His laughter bubbled up for a little bit. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you’ll miss me though,” Jeonghan said triumphantly. 

“Don’t be too loud,” Joshua sighed, exasperated but amused.

“No, no, no. I think the world needs to hear this,” Jeonghan shook his head as he moved closer while holding his grin. “This is headline worthy.”

“Don’t even think about it.” Joshua chuckled, as he nudged Jeonghan playfully.

Before Jeonghan could fire back, something caught his eye across the park. His playful expression shifted into surprise. “Wait… is that?”

Joshua followed his gaze to where a couple relaxed on a park bench. They look cosy. Quiet. Natural. They weren’t speaking but with the way they leaned into each other silently, it was clear they’re just there, enjoying each other’s presence. 

“Aren’t they your colleagues?” Joshua asked, trying to make out their faces. 

“They are…” Jeonghan blinked, a little taken aback. “Wonwoo you little shit , you actually did it.” He almost chuckled in disbelief. 

“What do you mean?”

Jeonghan glanced back at the couple, who looked even more comfortable than he ever imagined. “I mean,” he explained, “I could tell from a mile away that Wonwoo liked Jun. Soonyoung always teased them about it too. But I wasn’t a hundred percent sure about Jun... he gets flustered but he always deflected it. Always buried himself in work too.”

They watched as Jun gently leaned in and gave a kiss to Wonwoo. It was brief but the gentleness was clear. Wonwoo smiled back and pulled him closer. At ease, not minding who could or couldn’t see.

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, still processing what he just watched. “Well, I’ll be damned. Never thought that Jun would engage in PDA.”

Joshua remained silent, he watched them exchange soft words. He didn’t hear it exactly but it seems as if their lips spelled an exchange of “I love yous” in between. It was clear that they were used to saying it. It didn’t matter whether anyone else heard it. It wasn’t loud but it was so apparent to those looking.

As Joshua’s gaze lingered on the couple, something stirred something in him. He had spent years unsure of where he stood with Jeonghan. Even though they had reconciled, even put a label on it, there was still a part of him that felt unsteady. It was like he was sure of the diagnosis but not of the prognosis.

Jeonghan noticed the change in Joshua’s mood and nudged him gently. “You alright?”

Joshua furrowed his brows slightly. “Yeah, I’m fine... It’s just...” he trailed off. “Nevermind.”

Jeonghan wasn’t fooled. Joshua had that look sometimes, he’s observed it several times during a particularly difficult exam season. To Jeonghan, it signalled that his brain was in a concoction of overthinking. He leaned in with a grin, ready to strike right on cue. This time, at least, he knew better. “What’s that, Joshuji? Do you want a kiss too?”

Joshua raised an eyebrow at the quip but didn’t reply. He only let out a puffed snigger. He hesitated for a moment, then, without warning, tugged Jeonghan by the collar to plant a firm one on his lips.  

“I love you,” he muttered as he pulled back. His cheeks flushed slightly as he quickly tried to make a getaway. 

Jeonghan stood frozen for a second. He tried to process what just happened. His heart raced, clearly elated then chased after Joshua, catching him by the wrist. 

“Wait!” Jeonghan called out, breathless. Joshua paused but he averted the gaze.

Jeonghan’s lips curled into a grin, “Did you just—”

Joshua’s face turned even redder. “I said it. You heard it.”

“Oh, no way!” Jeonghan’s grin widened as he pulled Joshua back toward him. “Say it again.”

“No. That one is okay.”

“Pretty please.”

“No way.”

“Oh, how cruel of you!” Jeonghan exclaimed as he put his hand over his head. “Have you no heart?”

Joshua sighed. “You’re still so dramatic.”

Jeonghan huffed, leaning in closer. “Come on, say it again. For me.”

Joshua crossed his arms, looking anywhere but at Jeonghan. “Nope.”

“Joshuji, pleaseeeeee?”

“No.”

Jeonghan took a deep breath. He melted his grin away into a smile then stepped closer until they were face to face. “Fine,” he said quietly, “I love you.”

Joshua’s eyes widened slightly as the words sank in. He’d been the one to say it first, but hearing it from Jeonghan made it feel real. Joshua searched his eyes, then the rest of his face. It was as if he was trying to figure out how much of it he meant.

Jeonghan’s hand found Joshua’s. Their fingers laced. “I mean it,” Jeonghan confirmed to him with all sincerity. “I really do, Joshua Hong, Hong Jisoo, my Joshuji. I love you. I’ll repeat it until you believe it.”

Joshua’s heart fluttered slightly. He exhaled a breath. He hadn’t even realised he held a lot of things in with it. “I know,” Joshua said as he felt more at ease. “I guess I just needed to hear it from you.”

Jeonghan smirked lightly. He tightened his fingers around Joshua’s. “So... can I keep bothering you for eternity?”

Joshua rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I guess I can live with that,” he replied as he smiled back.

“No backing out, okay?”

“Okay.”

III. Extra 2: S/P Year 1 ½+

“Gruelling” and “stressful” grossly underrepresented how Joshua’s week went. 

Med school was tough. He knew that since his first day in first year, but for some reason his sympathetic responses were well-elevated. He had just barely survived his sixth exam in as many days, and the symptoms definitely manifested. His eyes stung, and his body felt sore, not from fencing training, but from studying long hours. It was like his entire consciousness was running on autopilot.

He dragged himself out of the building while the cool breeze did little to soothe him. Each time he made another step, it seemed as though gravity pulled stronger while the way back to his dorm seemed longer than ever.

He always prided himself as someone who can balance things well. Despite that, his thoughts flew back to whether he could actually do it or if it was too ambitious for him to still maintain his Paris goals. Sure, he might have won a Bronze in Tokyo and had bested a highly-competitive admissions system once again, but lately, however self-doubt kept invading his thoughts. It felt like everything was slipping, and he was feeling a lot like an imposter. 

Joshua barely paid no mind to his surroundings. He was sure his vision was almost doubling, partially from caffeine overload and poor sleeping, without video calling. For the past few weeks, their schedules have been constantly out of sync and it definitely bothered him. Afterall, it’s been a while since they last saw each other, owing it to completing the latter months of mandatory conscription and Joshua studying how to make a proper prescription. He almost bumped into a plant box at the edge of the pavement, then mumbled a soft apology to it. 

“Hi!”

Joshua blinked slowly to process what he was hearing. He was fairly certain he was hallucinating. He knew from Psychiatry that hallucinations are commonly auditory. But he still turned his head toward the sound, just in case though as he did that, his brain reminded him that visual hallucinations weren’t out of the question.

But there it was—that grin. The one that made him feel like everything was okay, even when it wasn’t. The one he looked forward to seeing in-person again in what feels like an eternity of video calls, online messages, 3 bouts of enlistment-allowable leaves, and two camp visits during Joshua’s own longer breaks. 

“Joshuji, I’m really here, you know.” 

Joshua blinked once more for clarity. The grin has now melted and shifted to something far more serene. Five months. Five months without seeing him in person, and on some days even video calls weren’t possible. Joshua knew that yesterday evening was the day, yet it was radio silence since then up to today. 

“Jeonghan-ah…” Joshua’s voice croaked as he spoke. His eyes welled up, unable to contain everything. He was too tired for this. Too tired to figure out if his imagination had spilled over. He didn’t even think anymore—he just moved.

Joshua surged forward then wrapped his arms around Jeonghan. He didn’t even care that tactile hallucinations were a thing too. He knew how much he would rather cling to him, and have him not disappear. You’re here.

Jeonghan’s fingers found its way to the back of Joshua’s neck, slipping through his hair as he stroked it. “You really missed me, huh?” he murmured as he enveloped Joshua with his warmth, and banter. 

Joshua buried his face in the curve of Jeonghan’s shoulder as he tightened his grip. Joshua didn’t even say anything. Rather, he let his body sag against Jeonghan’s, as the comfort pushed out the tension while Jeonghan continued to feel the gentle huffs of his breath on his neck. 

Joshua loosened his grip, just enough to look up at Jeonghan. His eyes were still glassy. For a second, he thought he might break down completely. He didn’t even realise, he might have underestimated how much he craved for this moment, even if it was completely unexpected.

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. He brushed his hands against the corners of Joshua’s eyes, with his grin returning. “Who knew you could be such a crybaby?”

Joshua let out a shaky laugh, even as the corners of his mouth curled upward. “Says the one who couldn’t wait a day later to come here.”

“Touché, as you guys say,” Jeonghan chuckled. The sound grounded Joshua a lot, and made him feel like there was fuzz building up in him. “You look good in white, Doctor Hong .” His eyes travelled across Joshua’s face and then added sincerely. “I missed you so much, Joshuji.”

Joshua exhaled deeply, it was kind that stemmed from relief more than anything. “I missed you, too.”

Jeonghan looked at him. Rather, he never broke his gaze. Smiled, as if telling him that things will be fine. Joshua did too, feeling each bubble of tension from the past week pop. Jeonghan brushed a stray lock away from Joshua’s forehead, then leaned forward to press his lips as Joshua fluttered his eyes shut to revel in it, like it was the world’s most assuring thing. Afterall, it’s been a while since. They certainly weren’t shy to show how much they missed the way they were that physically close. 

“OH MY GOD?!” 

Joshua jolted, eyes snapping open. The pulled back for a bit as they found a group of Joshua’s classmates stumbling into the scene. Two of them stood in front of shocked faces, while their hands interlocked. 

“What the f—?” one of the surprised ones stammered. “You’re… you’re real?” She said in disbelief.

Joshua’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Who’s real?”

“Him?? Your boyfriend??” Another chimed in, pointing to Jeonghan who seemed equal parts happy and surprised, “We thought you were just making excuses every time someone asked you out! I thought you were lying.” 

“Why would I lie about that?” Joshua asked as he tried to hide his own confusion. 

“Because you’re Joshua Hong?” another one added. “Olympic medalist, doctor-in-training, and supposedly perpetually single. Honestly I thought you were on a fencing-study-dorm cycle.”

“I’m sure I mentioned the video calls,” Joshua mumbled. “And that he was in Korea doing military service.”

“Aww… you didn’t show a photo of me, babe?” Jeonghan nudged Joshua as he once again played gremlin. 

“Babe?” Joshua echoed, with a snort. “Since when do we call each other that, Yoon Jeonghan? ”

“I mean, it's nice like you. Don’t you think so?”

“Oh yeah?” Joshua responded as he turned his voice lower. “I thought you liked it better when I wasn’t being so nice .” 

Jeonghan’s grin faltered as his ears tinted pink, but the smirk soon returned, mischievous as ever.

“Yoon Jeonghan? Wait, I think remember you,” the tallest one of them said. “Weren’t you that exchange student from Political Science? Always saw you together in College. Though I thought you guys lost contact when you went back to Seoul.”

“Briefly,” Jeonghan responded smoothly. “But that’s a story for another time. Right now, I have full permission to bother him for eternity.”

Joshua shot him a halfhearted glare. Secretly, he liked how Jeonghan was always honest with it. And Jeonghan, of course, saw through him. 

The first classmate shook her head, still in shock. “Well, definitely didn’t expect this. You guys are so cute, honestly. Joshua, you should do a proper hard launch!”

Joshua blinked. “Hard launch?”

Jeonghan snorted softly beside him. He found it endearing how Joshua won’t get confused with the contents of Harrison, Schwartz, or Netter, but with those things referenced in Urban Dictionary. “Like post him,” the classmate continued, “Show the world you’re taken. Make it instagram official.”

“Is that necessary?”

The group exchanged amused glances. “Not really,” one of them admitted, “but you guys look too cute not to. And,” she added with a grin, “it might stop other people from bothering you.”

“Exactly,” another chimed in. “It’s for your own peace of mind, Josh. Besides, your account is practically just an ad space. You could use a bit of… public displays.”

“I don’t really use instagram,” Joshua responded. “The brands just tell me what and when to post, and I do it.”

The group laughed. “Oh, we know. But seriously, your one personal post was that podium last year in Tokyo? And you’ve only got one photo? That hardly even counts if I’ll be honest.” 

“They’re right, Joshuji,” Jeonghan leaned into Joshua’s side, and suddenly whined dramatically. “I have to be your second non-sponsored post.”

Joshua groaned, but deep inside he was strongly considering it. “Do I have to?”

Jeonghan nudged him playfully. “Yes, you absolutely do.”

The classmates laughed. “Do it, Josh. You’ll thank us later.”

Joshua sighed, gave Jeonghan a side glance and groaned. “Fine.”

The group beamed. “We’ll be looking forward to that hard launch!” another teased. “You better not disappoint us, Hong.”

Jeonghan’s teasing smile lingered as he watched Joshua but it softened as soon the group disappeared from their line of vision. 

“Hey,” Jeonghan started gently. “It’s okay if you don’t want to post anything. I know you might not be comfortable with it.”

Joshua blinked, a little caught off guard. He paused for a moment, Buthis lips curved into a smile. “I appreciate it but let’s be real,” he said, “you’d like to be posted, don’t you?”

Jeonghan’s grin returned. “I mean, maybe a little,” he admitted. “But I’ll cherish it well if you do.”

Joshua couldn’t help but release a chuckle. In spite of everything, Jeonghan really knew how to get to him. “Yeah, I know you will. So look forward to it.”

Joshua looked at Jeonghan for a bit as the disbelief hadn’t completely disappeared. His hair was longer than when he last saw him while visiting, he looked more rugged now than then but still it was him. He’s really here. 

“So, do you wanna go to the taco place now?” Joshua asked.

“Sure,” Jeonghan replied, holding his gremlin grin first before he suddenly remembered. “Hold on, don't you have fencing training until 7:30?”

Joshua shrugged then tilted his head. “Skipping.” 

“Why? But you never skip training?” Jeonghan recounted.  

Josh gave a laugh, smiled widely as his eyes also did. “You’re really smart but you’re also an idiot.” 

Jeonghan's face twisted into an expression somewhere between a frown and a pout. It was a kind of look one makes when they find something both completely adorable and deeply unsettling. Joshua just kept smiling at him. Jeonghan thought it was cute—at the same time, it scared the hell out of him.

“Oh,” Jeonghan started, blinking as the realisation finally settled in. “Ohhhhhhhhh.”

“Yes, oh.” Joshua laughed as he got it. “So, tacos?” 

Jeonghan snapped out of it as his usual grin returned. “Doctor Hong,” he began, emphasising the title, “Olympic medalist, and lover of decent taco joints,”  he shot Joshua a look that was only half mocking. “What a life you’re leading. Lucky me. I’m going to brag about this.”

Joshua chuckled, shaking his head. He exhaled slowly as he felt lighter than the previous days. As cliché as it sounded, Jeonghan being there at this exact moment was exactly what he needed. He found himself thinking back to all the other times Jeonghan had shown up. Sometimes it was by chance, most of it by design, but always when and where it mattered.