Chapter Text
The thing about being both a guildmaster and one of less than ten S-Rank hunters in South Korea is that, once or twice a year, Yoon-ho is expected to put on fancy clothes and sit in an uncomfortable chair and answer questions with cameras flashing in his face. It’s something he’s made grudging peace with, but when the annual press conference rolls around he still considers calling in sick and making Eun-seok go in his stead.
Which would probably be worse, considering Eun-seok’s… interesting ideas regarding public communication.
It’s fine. Not that big of a deal, in the end, he just doesn’t like it. But he doesn’t like a great many things, like black coffee and Choi Jong-in’s stupid pretty eyes. So when the time comes, he puts on his fanciest suit and heads to the Association, feeling only moderately inconvenienced by this whole tradition.
Tae-gyu’s there before him, his hair tragically uncombed despite his sleek shoes and neatly-pressed suit. Every time Yoon-ho sees him he wonders how a human can have eyebags so dark, and every time Tae-gyu continues to impress him. In the wrong direction.
Tae-gyu grins at him. Yoon-ho claps him on the shoulder. “You ready?”
“I guess so,” says Tae-gyu, crossing his arms behind his head. “Not like we’re gonna be talking much anyways. It’s mostly going to be Chairman Go. Also Jong-in, since people love that guy.”
“As always,” Yoon-ho mutters. Of course people like Jong-in, with his stupid pretty eyes and smooth voice. Out of all of them— all the S-Ranks— Jong-in has always been famous one, popular with the public and comfortable behind the camera. He’s the only one, really, who’s perfected the art of being in front of the press. Doesn’t help that he’s stupidly photogenic, either. Pretty with the slope of his nose and curve of his mouth and his stupid eyes and—
Yoon-ho needs a drink. Immediately, actually. Right this moment. There is no way he is thinking these thoughts while sober. Is he okay? Did he hit his head?
“Oh, and there he is,” says Tae-gyu. Faintly, Yoon-ho hears that same damn bugle. He looks where Tae-gyu is looking and his brain— in an act of incredible self love— immediately abandons him and fucks off to who knows where. He’s left staring like an absolute buffoon as Jong-in approaches, one hand tucked in his pocket, and he’s got eyeliner on. Not a lot, just the faintest lines of black beneath his stupid pretty eyes that make them stand out even more than usual.
Jong-in looks at Yoon-ho. Eye contact is made. Yoon-ho’s brain returns to him just in time for him to ponder the best way to open a hole beneath him right now and disappear into it.
“Why hello there, gentlemen,” says Jong-in smoothly. He joins them on the stairs, right outside the doors. “You’re both looking rather fashionable today.” His eyes go to Tae-gyu briefly, then back to Yoon-ho.
Yoon-ho wonders, faintly, if it’s possible for a human being to spontaneously combust.
Jong-in tilts his head. Smiles, a slow one that unfurls across his mouth and tugs at the corners of his lips. “Is that shirt new, Yoon-ho?” His voice curls around Yoon-ho’s name in a way that makes Yoon-ho’s brain short-circuit like one of Eun-seok’s fucked up batteries. “It looks rather good on you.”
How the hell did he know?
“Uh,” Yoon-ho says, the way someone who is composed and totally calm would.
Tae-gyu snickers. “Look what you’ve done, Jong-in. You’ve broken the poor man.”
Forget that whole needing new guildmembers thing. Yoon-ho just needs new friends, period.
“Shut up,” he growls. Tae-gyu, being the kind and understanding friend that he is, snickers harder. Jong-in just smiles and Yoon-ho needs him to take off that eyeliner immediately. For health reasons, because any more of this and he might be the one to find out if a human being can spontaneously combust.
“Did you get eyeliner, by the way?” asks Tae-gyu, changing the topic. Yoon-ho knew he had some modicum of pity somewhere in his sleep-deprived soul. “Looks pretty cool.”
A bit too cool. Though Yoon-ho would not use that word. Stupidly fucking pretty might be better, or else safety hazard.
“Miss Gina recommended it to me,” Jong-in replies. “I quite like the way it looks. Not too much of it, of course, but it will certainly help with being on camera. You know how unflattering the lighting can be.”
Like you need any more help, Yoon-ho thinks.
Jong-in stares at him.
… He said that out loud, didn’t he.
“Well,” says Jong-in, and his smile returns. Yoon-ho should really think long and hard about that getting-the-ground-to-swallow-him thing. There has to be some sort of way.
Tae-gyu is laughing hysterically. The universe hates him, he’s sure of it.
“You certainly flatter me, Yoon-ho,” says Jong-in, his voice low. He looks up at Yoon-ho through his lashes and how does Yoon-ho leave. How does he get out of here immediately, with no further delays, away from Jong-in and his slow smile and stupid pretty eyes— for the sake of his dignity, if not his rapidly failing ability to think thoughts.
He tries to get it together. He draws himself up to his full height but of course Jong-in is unfazed, and why is he so damn short? Yoon-ho would have to bend over a little just to kiss him.
What the fuck what the fuck. Is he okay? When the hell did he hit his head because there is no way–
Somehow his mouth manages to form actual coherent words. “I,” he chokes out, “hate you.”
Tae-gyu howls with laughter. He’s basically on the ground now. Yoon-ho hates him too. Friendship was a mistake and he will now be living as a hermit, thanks.
“Really? A shame,” sighs Jong-in. He walks past Yoon-ho, reaching for the door handles. The rings adorning his slender fingers are as impeccably polished as always. “It’s a sad day when I discover I’m hated by such a handsome man as yourself.”
The sound that leaves Yoon-ho’s mouth is somewhere between a wheeze and the last, dying hiss of a deflating balloon. He stares at Jong-in. Jong-in calmly meets his gaze, his placid expression betrayed by a slight quirk of his lips.
Tae-gyu is fully on the ground now. He’s been laughing for the past minute straight.
At that very moment, the doors open. Woo Jin-chul steps out, the very picture of salvation, his face blank with the bliss of a man who is completely unaware of what has happened in the past few minutes. “The press conference will be starting soon,” he says. “You three should come inside now.” He pauses. Looks down at Tae-gyu.
“Guildmaster Lim,” says Jin-chul, slowly. “Are you quite alright?”
Tae-gyu wheezes, “I’m f-fine. I’m—” And then he bursts into laughter again.
“Right. I see,” Jin-chul says, with the tone of a man who does not, in fact, see.
“You’ll have to cut him some slack,” Jong-in says. Yoon-ho braces himself, but that does not, in any capacity, prepare him for what Jong-in does next— which is look at Yoon-ho with those stupid pretty eyes of his and hum, “Guildmaster Baek is quite the funny man, after all.”
He should probably consider moving to America. Or Canada. Anywhere, really, except here.
“Right,” says Jin-chul again. He looks about ready to fire himself and/or commit several instances of homicide. “Please, just— come inside.”
“Of course,” Jong-in replies, smooth as anything. He steps inside.
Tae-gyu staggers to his feet. He’s grinning at Yoon-ho.
Yoon-ho snarls, “Shut up.” His neck and cheeks are burning.
“I didn’t even say anything,” Tae-gyu protests.
“Good,” sighs Jin-chul. He shepherds them inside and shuts the doors.
---
The conference goes smoothly. Chairman Go answers the majority of the questions and Jong-in takes almost all the rest. His charismatic smile remains fixed in place for the entirety of the conference, never wavering, even as the cameras flash in his face.
Yoon-ho tries to keep his expression neutral and his eyes forward, but— treacherous things, they are. He can’t help it. Every now and then he glances at Jong-in, watching the quirk of his mouth as he speaks and the flash of his glasses. The way the light bounces off the lenses makes it hard to see his eyes, which is a good thing. Spontaneous combustion during a press conference would be extremely not good, and it’s not like Yoon-ho wants to look at Jong-in’s stupid eyes anyways.
They walk off stage together at the conference’s end. Yoon-ho strips off his jacket as he walks, wrestling his arms out of it and draping it over his shoulder. When he glances to his left Jong-in is watching him, expression unreadable.
Is he… blushing? What is that pink on his cheeks?
Yoon-ho squints at him. Jong-in blinks, then tilts his head. His mouth quirks into a smile. “What?”
“Nothing,” Yoon-ho replies slowly. What the hell is even happening today. He needs a good, long nap. Exhaling, he continues, gruffly, “You did well out there. I don’t know how the hell you manage it.”
“It takes practice,” Jong-in says, almost kindly. “Being on camera isn’t easy and it’s not for everyone. I suppose I’m more receptive to it than most.”
“And you’ve got the looks for it, huh,” says Tae-gyu as he pats Jong-in’s shoulder. Jong-in exhales, that quiet laugh he does sometimes, and Yoon-ho feels something strange and tight seize his chest.
“Yes, well, I suppose that’s why you’re not good in press conferences,” Jong-in says lightly. Tae-gyu recoils, looking comically offended, and Yoon-ho laughs. He almost hates it, how funny Jong-in can be.
“Alright, Mister Ultimate Hunter,” Tae-gyu drawls. He raises an eyebrow. “Teach me your ways, then.”
“My ways of what?”
“Charisma. Flattery.” Tae-gyu’s eyebrows wiggle. “Getting the girl.”
“I wouldn’t be able to tell you that, given my, ah, disposition,” says Jong-in, amused. Yoon-ho jolts. His stupid treacherous brain takes it as the cue to screech and whizz around like a balloon, and Yoon-ho is left standing there like one of those wobbly training room dummies, staring at Jong-in.
Jong-in notices. Of course he does. “Is something the matter, Yoon-ho?”
Besides his plummeting ability to form rational thoughts?
“No,” Yoon-ho says, very convincingly.
“Well, guys, then. Either is fine,” says Tae-gyu, in another unexpected act of kindness. “C’mon. What’s your secret?”
“You should ask Yoon-ho. He’s very charismatic.”
“You are so full of shit,” says Yoon-ho flatly, and Jong-in smiles— small and tucked away. His eyes crinkle in the corners, just a little. Yoon-ho stares. Realizes he’s staring. Mentally slaps himself with a folding chair.
How much does a plane ticket out of the country cost, he wonders. Something to research tonight for sure.
“Just smile. Be polite,” Jong-in continues with a shrug.
Yoon-ho’s brain, in nothing short of a miracle, manages to come up with a witty enough joke that he can act like a normal man. “Or maybe don’t wear stupid hats to every raid.”
“My hats are fine,” protests Tae-gyu. “Maybe you should comb your hair.”
“Big talk for a guy who couldn’t even comb his hair,” Yoon-ho snorts. “You really could learn a thing or two from him.”
“I’m flattered, Yoon-ho. You know, you’re quite the charmer yourself,” says Jong-in, low and silky, and nope, nope, Yoon-ho is not doing this again.
He clears his throat, pointedly looking away from Jong-in’s stupid pretty eyes. Is it way too damn hot in this room or is it just him? “Don’t,” he croaks out. “Shut up.”
Jong-in laughs. “I didn’t realize the mighty Guildmaster Baek was so sensitive to compliments. That’s rather cute.”
His brain deflates again and that’s it. Goodbye, world. It was nice to be alive while it lasted. Yoon-ho will go see himself out now, and then he’ll jump into the nearest hole deep enough to contain him. It’s the only way.
Tae-gyu’s laughing again. “I think you’ve broken him.”
Yoon-ho rather hates his friends.
---
“He really did put it on, huh,” says Gina. She sits one leg crossed over the other, looking at photos from the press conference.
“The eyeliner? It is a good one,” Bo-ra muses.
Gina snorts. “Yeah, I’m not surprised given Guildmaster Baek was there. There’s no way he wouldn’t put on that eyeliner.”
“Guildmaster Choi is kind of…” says Ki-hoon. He shrugs and reaches for his drink.
“Down bad?” Gina and Bo-ra suggest simultaneously.
Ki-hoon laughs sheepishly. “Yeah. I guess so. It’s a little funny.”
“It’s very funny.” Gina cracks her knuckles. “But he better not lose me my money. I am not paying up to Lee Eun-seok of all people. He’s worse than the guildmaster.”
“Well,” says Bo-ra, and grins. “We’ll just have to see how it plays out.”