Archive of Our Own ^beta

When you think about it, ISAC is more of a recreational prison-holding ceremony than a sports event. You sit on a hard floor for hours on end, watched by hundreds of fans while you starve and feign interest in sports you played once in high school. Most people here are either present for promotion or for something else.

“Don’t tell me you never played President.” Keeho’s voice was loud for everyone in the circle to hear. He had this annoying habit of putting him on the spot; Jongseob could tell he was enjoying picking at him. Humiliating him.

“No,” he retorted, trying his hardest not to insult him. “But I can pick the rules—”

“I can teach him if he wants.” A voice across from him made him pause. It was hard to remember names when they had sat down earlier, merging with members of another group, but he wished he had. The boy had the smoothest voice, his Korean assured, the foreign accent punctuating each word perfectly. His hair was slicked back and streaky, the platinum blond wet from sweat. And his face…

“Well, go next to him. Dude, if he loses, you lose too,” Keeho chuckled out, and Jongseob restrained himself from flipping him off in front of everyone.

“Fine,” the boy said and stood up, his white shirt stretching tightly across his torso. He rolled up his sleeves and stepped between Jongseob and Theo.

Jongseob could feel his ears burning as the boy sat down next to him. One of his knees touched his involuntarily, sending a shock through his system. When he turned, the boy was looking at him and smiled, teeth showing in a blinding display. It was hard to pinpoint why his breath was cutting short, or why the side of his body was warming at the proximity. He was so beautiful.

“Hi.”

“Hello…” he responded, bowing his head a little.

“The game is not complicated. You put a higher card on the pile, and the first one without cards in hand wins. Really it’s just about how fast you are.” The stranger looked at him intently, like he really wanted Jongseob to understand completely.

“I see.” Jongseob nodded a lot, his head bobbing uncontrollably like a stress-release valve. “Thank you,” he added monotonously.

The boy next to him playfully bumped into him.

“No problem, we’re gonna beat them up!” he said with so much confidence Jongseob almost forgot the other had just touched him.

Twenty minutes later, and they both lost. The only thing that came out of this was their proximity, the occasional bumps, and a name.

“Maki, you gotta do it,” another blond boy with sharp features taunted. “Aegyo, or you tell us your crush.”

The boy next to him grunted and inhaled deeply, like he was preparing for something.

“Nico, when we go back to the dorm, I’m gonna kill you,” the boy said through gritted teeth, glancing around him.

Before Jongseob could see the reaction of his bandmate, Maki pulled his hand up and began his ritual of humiliation. Paw up, cheeks full, and high-pitched noises moved him in a way everyone found hilarious. But Jongseob was transfixed by it, the cuteness and the willingness to commit to the act burned something inside of his chest. Maki turned toward him, like he suddenly remembered he had an audience on his side to satisfy, and winked at him.

Jongseob died at that very moment. He couldn’t even remember the laughter, or how the next round began, or who ended it. His brain was fuzzy, replaying over and over again the wink.

“We gotta go.” A small pat on the back of his shoulder, burning. “See you next time.”

When Jongseob looked up, Maki was already moving out of his vision, multiple groups shifting to the next activity.

“Yeah… next time,” he murmured into nothingness.

“Ouuuuhhhh,” Keeho beckoned as they stood up.

“What?” Jongseob replied, dusting off his pants.

“Nothing.” Keeho snickered, nudging Jiung next to him.

“If you have something to say, just say it.” He hated being out of the loop.

“He is getting defensive!” Jiung chimed in. “10,000 won on the blond guy.”

“Which one?” Keeho replied, completely ignoring Jongseob’s annoyance.

“Both works.”

“Nah, you’re cheating. You can’t put a bet on two people.” They truly acted like he didn’t exist.

“Okay, okay, I’m taking the short one.” Jiung grumbled, waving his hand toward the crowd.

“Calling him short when he’s taller than you.” Keeho rested one foot, gauging the other. “I’m taking the stylish one then. Nicolas. He likes them pretty and cool, definitely more his type.”

Jongseob’s heart slowed to almost a halt, a chill running down his spine, everything connecting together.

“What are you guys scheming…?”

“Well,” Keeho scooted over quickly, now inches in front of him, “hypothetically, if you had to choose a guy you found interesting from the gathering earlier, which one would you pick?”

Jongseob’s eyes darted involuntarily to the empty floor next to him, where Maki had sat. His shoulder and side still burned from his presence.

“I— I’m not picking anyone.” He cursed himself for stumbling so easily.

“B-B-B boring!” Keeho stuttered mockingly. “Just tell us, we already narrowed it to the blondes.”

“Saw you eyeing both, and they are your style,” Jiung added.

Red crept up his neck, his stutter not helping him.

“My style?” He asked without really wanting an answer, more annoyed and embarrassed than anything else.

“Look,” Keeho put a hand on his shoulder, “you need to get laid.”

“Or meet new people. You stay in the studio all the time. It’s great, but it’s not healthy, you know that.” Jiung continued like they had planned this, repeating Keeho’s irritating comments in a more digestible way.

“So? Archive fashion emo boy, or the other one?” Keeho was getting closer, like he was trying to peer inside his mind.

Jongseob groaned. They were getting to him, and he didn’t have the strength to hide it any longer.

“Fine, fine.” He sighed. “I think his name is Maki…”

“Who?” Keeho asked, even though he was right next to him.

“You heard me.” Jongseob side-eyed him.

Keeho chuckled in response, his hand going to the boy’s hair, ruffling it up.

“Oh shit, I was right! Keeho, give me my money.” Jiung gasped and wiggled his fingers greedily in front of the other.

Keeho patted his pockets and pushed his hand inside, coming out empty.

“Don’t have my wallet, sorry not sorry.” He shrugged, unbothered.

Jiung shook his head before turning to Jongseob.

“Nevertheless, if you want to talk to him, you should ask this guy for his number.”

“It’s not what we’re here for—” he turned toward the sports equipment and field next to them.

“This is exactly what we’re here to do, dude! Getting bitches!” Keeho interrupted, grabbing his shoulder roughly.

“He’s right. Nobody cares about this competition,” Jiung added.

Today they really fit together, Jongseob thought to himself.

“Even if I wanted to get his number, why would he give it to me?”

“God, you’re frustrating.” Keeho sighed, his eyes darting behind him before taking a big inhale. “NICOO!”

The sound was drowned out by the chatter, but still loud enough for multiple heads to turn toward them. A cold shiver ran down Jongseob’s spine, his heartbeat picking up. Before he could say something he might later regret, a familiar guy strutted toward them, sharp features, a headband over his blond hair.

“Want to play more games?” the guy asked straight out of the gate, a sly tilt at the edge of his lips.

“Later for sure, but I need something.” Keeho turned Jongseob to face the new guy properly, a flush of embarrassment coming over his ears. “My friend here REALLY needs Maki’s number.”

Really needs. Jongseob’s heart stopped the moment the word left Keeho’s useless mouth. He didn’t NEED the boy’s number, he could barely text his parents or his bandmates. What on earth would he need the boy’s number for? He couldn’t even imagine the other wanting to talk to him beyond game rules, let alone be interested enough to text him.

“Interesting…” the tall guy responded, his eyes traveling up and down Jongseob’s body.

He had this gaze, a strong and piercing one that seemed to unravel you and your deepest insecurities. He hummed and pulled out his phone before turning the screen toward them. A Kakao profile and a number attached to it.

“Here you go. Say thank you, Seob.” Keeho joyfully spoke, his hand now pressing behind his back.

Jongseob mechanically bowed, his mind overwhelmed with what was happening.

“No need,” the guy waved for Jongseob to get up from his position. “You should send him a quick message. He’s always happy to meet new people.”

Keeho and he stared at Jongseob expectantly. It was strange how quickly everything went. He took out his phone, entered the name and the number, an empty chat box opening. Glancing up, the others were still focused on him, waiting, holding their breath. He typed, and hit send.

Hey, I hope I can make it up to you for the game earlier.

~~~

The Han River’s surface flickered in the night. Even at this late hour, Jongseob could see small patches of people hanging out. Families. Friends. Couples…

Jongseob was outside, the night air cool against his skin, prickling his arms and bare legs unprotected by his shorts. The water's edge was fresh and humid, the city lights blasting and reflecting against the surface.

“I didn’t even recognize you.”

The voice that picked up next to him was so distinct, Jongseob’s heart sped up. He had only heard it once before, but hearing it again made his hair stand on end. He turned his head. Even in the low light, Maki’s skin glowed, the contrast of the gradient dark sky against his bleached hair and warm skin.

“Oh, really?” Jongseob patted the hood of his hoodie self-consciously, sliding it off, one strand of his own bleached hair peeking out.

He had dressed for this night in what he thought looked the coolest and covered the most of his face: his favorite jean shorts paired with a skirt, the tight crop binding his chest under his hoodie, and half of his accessories. Maybe he had tried too hard.

Maki crouched next to him, sliding his legs over the edge of the dock. Simple long-sleeve shirt and joggers.

“I thought of calling, but I was dead set on finding you myself. A blond guy is normally hard to miss.” Maki scratched the back of his neck, almost pointing to his own. Adjusting his hoodie, Jongseob looked at him, though he could barely hold the other’s gaze.

“Are you not scared?”

Maki blinked at him, confused, and Jongseob felt a wave of embarrassment rising.

“Not scared, I mean seen,” he quickly continued. “You’re pretty recognizable, I should say…”

Maki’s demeanor shifted, a smile now tugging at his lips. He looked down at the cement, at the small gap separating them.

“Are you concerned for my safety, hyung?”

The honorific was the first and final nail in the coffin for him. Hyung. It was so hot coming from him. They were so close in age (he had checked), so it felt more sexual than respectful.

“Yes,” Jongseob simply replied, his blood flowing in all the wrong places. He needed to think straight. He had seen and lived through so much that he was truly afraid for him and his safety.

“It’s 2 AM. No way we’re gonna bump into someone we know.”

“Not sure how things are in Japan, but you should know here, you’re being followed every day, whether you like it or not. People get obsessive.”

Jongseob could see the troubled look on Maki’s face, the way he turned his head and checked behind his back, like Jongseob had set him up to be jumped. He felt bad, so he continued.

“Sorry, it wasn’t meant to startle you. I’m just pessimistic sometimes.”

Maki shook his head in response, like he disagreed.

“You’re right. I should be more careful. I just got so excited to get out of the hotel.”

Jongseob fought his own face, a surge of joy washing over him. Was Maki excited to see him?

“Do you mind if I…” He pulled out the shiny, gray-lined vape from his hoodie, red creeping up his neck. Maybe this would calm him down.

Maki hummed and gestured for him to continue. After a long drag, the smoke filled his lungs, his body relaxing with a little peace.

“And do you mind if I?” Maki asked, his hand hovering under Jongseob’s.

Jongseob was stunned by the request for a moment before letting the vape fall into the boy’s grasp. Nothing was quite as intimate as sharing a meal and biting from the same place, and it felt the same now as Maki’s lips pressed gently on the device, a whoosh of vapor filling his lungs as a smile stretched across his face. He looked ethereal.

“Ouf.” Maki closed one eye like it finally hit him. “Not sure I’m a fan of the taste though. Is it some kind of mutated melon flavor?”

Jongseob snatched his vape almost immediately.

“I’m drawing the line at my vape flavor. You can say anything, but don’t tell me Sunset Blue tastes bad.”

“Are you serious?” Maki cocked one eyebrow. God, his eyebrows were so full.

“What?” Jongseob asked, his attention completely caught by the furrow of the boy’s brows.

“Sunset Blue feels like a joke. What do you mean Sunset Blue is the flavor of things?!”

“You wouldn’t get it…” he mumbled to himself.

“Jongseob.” A hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling him out of his trance. “Our newly found friendship is only determined by this. Tell me you smoke things other than Green Sundown, or whatever this is.”

Friendship. He honestly stopped listening after that word. His name coming out of Maki’s mouth sent electricity through him. Maki wanted to be friends, and a friend was more than fine. Jongseob pinched his lips, trying to hide a smile.

“I can get other flavors for you,” he let out. Maybe he should have said it differently, proofread it in his head before blurting it out to his crush.

Maki chuckled a bit, maybe to himself or to Jongseob’s foolishness, before grabbing the vape once again.

“I mean, I can live with this,” he inhaled and pointed at the smoke escaping his lips, “if you promise it won’t be the last time we hang out.”

He stared at Maki, trying to piece together a reply that crumbled each time their eyes met. After a few seconds, Maki let out an awkward chuckle.

“Damn, am I that bad of company?” He looked around, like he wanted to ask the opinion of an invisible crowd.

“No, you’re perfect,” he scrambled to reply. “I don’t remember the last time it felt so easy to talk to someone… it’s just that we’re so busy, I fear we won’t have the time.”

Maki rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone.

“‘The game was so fun, you guys are funny. Like you said, we should do that again.’ You replied, ‘Yeah, no problem, do you want to hang out?’ And I said, ‘Is tomorrow night okay?’ And your response was, ‘Yes. Where? Han River is pretty this time of year.’”

He casually read the messages, blood rushing to Jongseob’s face as he heard how informal and cringe he had texted. He had agonized over writing those, Keeho and Jiung shooting him examples of texts from behind.

“Sounds pretty easy to me,” Maki concluded, like he was in court presenting the last piece of evidence.

“You’re right, you got me. I can take time off from working on tracks to hang out…”

“Here you go, even though I would love to see you producing.” Maki said casually. Way too casually for something so big.

“I’m not that good…” He tried to move the discussion away, truly beginning to feel too drawn to the guy.

“Bullshit.” Maki squinted at him. “My mother used to tell me, ‘You are your worst judge.’ So let me listen to your songs first and I can give you an honest opinion, okay?”

Jongseob wanted to kiss him right then and there. To fall onto the concrete and kiss secretly under the night sky. To have their first kiss at the Han River with the hottest man ever. But he simply nodded, barely containing his excitement.

“Your mum sounds like a lot of fun.” And she gave birth to the most beautiful person on earth too.

“She can be, like a lot of mums. It’s been a long time, that’s all.”

Jongseob could see the flicker of something in his eyes as he talked.

“Last time I saw my parents was almost six years ago. Sometimes I wonder if all of this matters,” he said.

Maki hummed in agreement next to him.

“If she’s proud, and I can buy her a house, it’ll all be worth it,” Maki said slowly.

Jongseob glanced at Maki, at the boy’s gaze drifting toward the water flowing below.

“I don’t think she needs a house for that. I’m pretty sure she’s already proud of you.” When he finished, Maki turned to face him. Eyes gleaming.

“You truly are something. Making me cry on our first d—” Maki stopped himself, the moisture under his eyes on the verge of falling.

The more time passed near him, the less Jongseob could focus. He wanted to wrap his arms around him, bring him close so his tears would soak into his clothes, so his body would be untouched by sadness. For him to take on everything Maki couldn’t. Instinctively, he reached for the part under Maki’s eyes, one thumb tentatively wiping the tear before it fell.

“I’m usually the one who cries,” he whispered to himself.

Maki looked dazed, eyes drifting across Jongseob’s face, not startled by the movement. Jongseob wanted to say how beautiful he looked in the low light, teary. But a flash of light escaped from Maki’s pocket. Like breaking out of a trance, Maki shook his head and pulled out his phone, the harsh light of the screen hitting both of them.

“Fuck,” Maki muttered, and Jongseob’s hand recoiled.

“Did something happen?” he asked, eyes darting around, embarrassment rushing through him. Maybe he had gone too far.

“My manager is apparently looking for me. I need to go…”

When he said it, Jongseob could hear the urgency, but Maki’s body didn’t move. He just bit his lip, eyes unfocused on his phone.

“Do you have to go back?” Jongseob asked uncertainly, maybe reading this wrong.

Maki looked up at that very moment and took a deep exhale, determination sharpening his gaze.

“If I go back now, I’ll get scolded. If I go back later, I’ll get scolded too.” He typed rapidly on his screen and locked his phone. “So no, I don’t have to go back. I’ll get to enjoy my night.”

Jongseob couldn’t help but smile. Even if he didn’t do it just to stay with him.

“I didn’t tell my manager either. Maybe I shouldn’t go back to my dorm and stay here too.” The longer they stayed together, the more familiar he felt. Like an old friend.

Maki cocked an eyebrow at him. It was incredible how good he looked even as his face shifted through extreme expressions.

“I thought you would at least let me sleep at your place.” Maki said, a sarcastic tone edging the words.

Jongseob let out a laugh, a quick, open-mouthed one he hated. His true laugh. After a few hiccups, he responded:

“How rude of me. Maki-san, do you want to sneak past my members’ rooms with a creaky floor, bump into trash, and maybe wake up my manager, just to sleep in a single bed for a few hours? Just to sneak back out again in the morning?” 

Maki couldn’t manage his expression as he rolled his eyes. A response of his own.

“Okay, if you’re so intelligent, mister, what did you have planned?” He shifted on his seat awkwardly, the concrete dark and rugged under his pants.

“Well, I thought maybe we could watch the river and later… go do some karaoke.”

Jongseob braced himself when he made his proposition. Everyone was doing that. It was so cliché, going to the number one couple spot, then going to sing at a noraebang. He felt embarrassed just asking it—

“Really?! You’re not shitting me? I love karaoke!” Maki almost jumped at him, bright face and toothy smile.

Maybe it wasn’t that cliché after all.

~~~

Basement under a restaurant, that’s where they ended up. Nothing special, just a karaoke place with maybe five rooms, most of them empty at this late hour. They paid for an hour, Jongseob pushing the money toward the sleepy older gentleman at the front before Maki could interject.

An hour. Two hours. Three hours. Time seemed to fly in the dark room, the flash of the screen the only light that mattered. Jongseob wished he had this kind of stamina. His voice was sore, sitting back on the couch, while Maki’s voice stayed steady and unshaken, running every note beautifully.

“Your turn,” Maki looked toward him, console in hand, breath heavy, beads of sweat dropping down his smiling face.

Jongseob simply shook his head. Just like he’d done for the past hour.

“I guess I’ve got to choose again.” Maki groaned lightly, pretending to be put out.

“You’re doing such a great job…” Jongseob murmured, mostly to himself.

He had been watching Maki in more ways than he could admit. Jongseob was drunk on him now, overwhelmed, unable to move his body or pull his eyes away. He was here for him, only for Maki. To see him, to listen to his beautiful voice, to feel more than he ever thought he could. Maki landed on a ballad, sitting across from him. It was almost expected by now, so Jongseob clapped, supporting him as he waited for the lyrics. But when the first letters circled in gold and danced across the screen, Maki turned to him instead.

“Listen,” Maki said after a beat, the instrumental playing faintly in the background. “Is this just a one-night type of thing?”

Maybe it was the bass vibrating through the room, or the shifting light across Maki’s face, but suddenly he felt more intimidating than before.

“What do you mean… one-night?”

“Come on, I’m not stupid.” Maki’s gaze was unwavering. The weight of his words finally hit Jongseob.

He sat straight up on the bench, legs closing neatly like he was about to face the most serious conversation of his life. His chest pounded, blood buzzing in his ears.

“I invited you to hang out, yes—”

“God, are you usually this hard to crack?” Maki sighed, his breath loud in the mic.

Jongseob knew it was too late to play innocent. He stood and crossed over, his shadow falling across the side of Maki’s face as he looked down at him.

“I was truthful earlier. I do want to hang out with you. Really hang out.” He forced the courage out of his chest. “In my mind, I viewed this as a date. I planned it as a date. So no—it’s not a one-night thing.”

Maki’s eyes lingered on him. Then he stood as well, his face an inch higher than Jongseob’s.

“Date is fine. Very fine with me too. The one-night comment was because you kept looking at me like you wanted to kiss me. I was waiting for you to just do it, but you kept moving away.”

Jongseob wished he could engrave every word into his soul forever. He wanted the soft music in the background to record what he was feeling in this exact moment.

“We’re basically strangers, so I would never dare to—”

“You don’t want to do it?” Maki cut him off, his eyes sharp.

Jongseob bit his lip, nearly drawing blood. This was the moment he had wished for. His hand trembled as he lifted it to the side of Maki’s face.

“Never dare without you asking.” His voice cracked softly, and then he pressed his lips to his.

He swore he could feel Maki lowering his body to meet him, every fiber of his being vibrating as their mouths pressed together. Their bodies bumped as Jongseob stumbled forward, pinning them both against the wall beside the TV. Maki let out a breathy sound when they collided, their teeth clinking for a split second before Jongseob tried to pull back. But then a hand wrapped around his back, holding him close.

Maki kissed him back this time, hungrier, his mouth opening, teeth catching Jongseob’s lower lip, nibbling at the flesh. Jongseob let out a soft sigh, tension leaving him all at once. He closed his eyes, lingering on the pain, the taste of Maki, the sharpness of his jaw under his fingers.

He shifted his head, pulling from Maki’s mouth only to bite at his lips in return. Maki’s breath caught as Jongseob pressed a leg between his, grinding against him as their kiss deepened. He wanted Maki to feel exactly how much he wanted this, wanted him.

Maki’s head tipped back slightly, surrendering to the moment. Jongseob let his lips trail down from his mouth, across his jaw, to his neck, lingering there.

“D-don’t…” Maki breathed out. “Do it lower. Lower.”

Jongseob hadn’t planned to mark him, not even bruise him, but hearing those words, his body reacted. He moved down to the curve of Maki’s torso, pausing just long enough to look up. Maki’s cheeks were flushed, eyes burning with desire. He gave a small nod. Jongseob obeyed instantly, sucking and biting at his skin like it was sustenance. Maki writhed against him, grinding harder into his leg. Every mark was a thank you.

For the game. For the kindness. For the message. For the talk. For the songs. For the date.

Maki responded to each confession, fingers tangled in Jongseob’s hair, moans slipping past his lips. But when the last words fell, he suddenly pulled them apart.

Jongseob looked up to see him flushed, eyes half-lidded, splotches of red blooming on his neck. His voice was hoarse, ruined in the best way.

“Fuck… I want to see you again. Every day of the week. I’m so serious right now.”

Jongseob didn’t even let him finish; he nodded quickly, desperately. It was ridiculous to think he could, but he wanted that too.

“And promise me,” Maki continued, grabbing Jongseob’s arm possessively, “you’ll take responsibility if someone asks me where I got these.”

Jongseob chuckled, his wit breaking through the haze.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be the first to claim them.”

At that, Maki kissed him again, just as the last note of the song rang out.