Chapter Text
Part One
2017-2018
Listen to: “Out of Nothing, Everything” by Dan Romer and “moonchild” by RM
When Seonghwa first met Hongjoong, he knew he was talented. He hadn’t even opened his mouth yet in their vocal training class, but Seonghwa saw his clothes: beret, overalls, rings, painted shoes. He just looked like the type that would be a musical genius. Which turned out to be true.
But then there was Seonghwa. Dressed in a monotone sweater and jeans that just screamed: “I got scouted off the street and I’m here to be the visual and that’s all!”
So when Seonghwa found out that they were going to be roommates, he was excited. He hoped that Hongjoong’s creativity and talent would rub off on him. It would be good to have someone like him by his side.
*
Seonghwa was convinced that Hongjoong hated him. Though, he didn’t have much to back up that theory. At least, he knew that he didn’t hate Hongjoong. No, if anything he might’ve been trying too hard to get Hongjoong to like him.
The others were way closer to their roommates. Wooyoung and Yeosang had been friends for years. Yunho and San naturally had a lot in common, with both of them being giant softies. And even Mingi and Jongho, who at first bickered for a whole week over the bottom bunk, became the best of bro buddies.
But not Seonghwa and Hongjoong. Nope. At least when Mingi and Jongho had their fight over the bottom bunk they vocalized their feelings (very loudly mind you).
But Seonghwa and Hongjoong would have had to talk in order to have a fight… Right? Sometimes due the lack of communication between them, he thought that Hongjoong may be playing the longest game of Quiet Mouse ever or giving Seonghwa the evilest silent treatment in existence.
Most of the time, Hongjoong tended to not be in their dorm room at all - preferring to spend his time in the practice rooms. He gathered his three to four hours of sleep on random sofas and maybe occasionally his bed if he was tired of having a stiff neck. And whenever he did get tired of the stiff neck, he slipped into their lower bunk like a thief of the night and would be gone by the time Seonghwa got up in the morning. The only way he could tell Hongjoong had been there at all was the subtle rearrangement of his pillows and plushies. And on the rare occasion Hongjoong was in their dorm room for an extended amount of time, he was plugged into his MacBook - oblivious to Seonghwa and the rest of the world.
At first, he just simply thought that Hongjoong was a quiet workaholic…until he observed how much he laughed with the other trainees. He always giggled. Loud. He’d tilt his head back, cover his mouth, and sometimes even roll onto his side if the joke was particularly funny.
Seonghwa knew he wasn’t as funny as Jongho or Yeosang or Mingi. But Hongjoong didn’t even give him a chance to be funny. Hongjoong would have to listen to him say more than three words in order to hear a complete joke.
Because of all of this, he tried to rack his brain and remember where things had gone so wrong. He had tried to talk to Hongjoong those first few nights, but Hongjoong would either say just enough to satisfy Seonghwa’s small talk needs, fall asleep eerily fast, or come to bed long after Seonghwa had already fallen asleep.
He had thought that they would have a lot in common. They were both the same age. Both trainees. Both the youngest in their family. Both enjoyed music, obviously. And shit, Seonghwa was prepared to even shower Hongjoong with lots of compliments regarding his protégé-level musical talent. They had lots of potential conversation starters waiting.
What had Seonghwa done to piss Hongjoong off so much? As hard as he thought, he couldn’t come up with anything. Mostly because they hadn’t said more than a handful of sentences to each other.
He didn’t know what to do because he didn’t know what he had done.
*
Seonghwa had officially decided that if Hongjoong was going to hate him so much then he might as well hate Hongjoong back.
But looking back, Seonghwa didn’t know why he thought his plan would work. All along, he assumed that the way to get Hongjoong to talk to him in depth was to ask for coaching.
He frequently saw Hongjoong coaching all the other trainees, and initially he had resisted asking him for help. Asking him for help meant embarrassing himself in front of someone about ten times more talented than him. Sure, Hongjoong had heard Seonghwa sing (terribly) before, but asking him for coaching meant inviting in him to critique Seonghwa’s singing. And potentially embarrass Seonghwa so bad it would backfire and he would be the one giving Hongjoong the silent treatment (not like it would change their relationship much anyways).
But after months of their dorm room being pin-drop silent, Seonghwa decided it was time to try. He thought that he had nothing to lose.
He thought.
The perfect time struck while Hongjoong was gathering his dirty clothes that were scattered around their room’s floor. (Now, Seonghwa would admit that they had nothing in common when it came to cleanliness, but he chose to forget about it while he spent his energy trying to get Hongjoong to realize how much they did have in common.)
“Hongjoong-ah?” he said from the top bunk.
Hongjoong’s back was towards him. “Hm?”
“What would you think about helping me with my singing, you know, like you do with the others? Since I had to switch from rap, I feel like I’m constantly behind everyone else.”
Hongjoong continued to scoop up his clothes and said with a sigh: “I do not think you are behind everyone else, Seonghwa-sshi.”
He winced at Hongjoong’s formal wordage. He had tried to tell him multiple times before that there was no need to speak so formally around him since they were the same age, but it still appeared that like all of Seonghwa’s other words, it fell on deaf ears.
Nevertheless, Seonghwa persisted further. “Well, I feel like I am, so I was wondering if you could take a listen to those verses we were working on today.”
“Jongho has perfect pitch. Have you asked him?” Hongjoong had still not turned around to face him.
He expected that kind of response from Hongjoong. But since he had nothing to lose…might as well be as stubborn as possible. “Well if Jongho has perfect pitch why do I always see you helping him then? He shouldn’t need any help if he has perfect pitch.”
At that, he finally turned around to look at him with an eerily even face, but with just a twinge of amusement in his eyes. “Well, I guess I have extra-perfect pitch then.”
Seonghwa let out a scoff at the joke. “So, you’ll help me then?”
The amusement in his eyes gone, he turned his attention back to his clothes. “Jongho is a more experienced vocalist. I am sure he would be happy to help his hyung.”
Because Hongjoong couldn’t see Seonghwa’s reaction, Seonghwa took the opportunity to drop his mouth open in shock at Hongjoong’s blatant avoidance of him. As the essential leader of the trainees, as the most talented musician there, as someone who coached literally everyone else, and especially as Seonghwa’s roommate, surely Hongjoong would want to help him out. The only logical reason for why he wouldn’t want to help him was…that Hongjoong hated him. It was the final data point that Seonghwa needed. Hongjoong hated him. And well. Now he was starting to hate Hongjoong too. Might as well.
Without even thinking, Seonghwa mumbled under his breath: “Alrighty then, I see how it is.”
Only, it was so quiet in their dorm room (like it always was), that him mumbling seemed to echo, causing Hongjoong to turn around once again. Only this time, his face was softer than he’d ever seen it before around him.
“Seonghwa-sshi, I was not trying to be rude. I just think that Jongho would be more of a help to you.”
“Well, maybe I want your help and not Jongho’s.”
Hongjoong hesitated and looked down at his feet. “And maybe I do not have time to coach the younger boys and you too.”
Seonghwa hated that Hongjoong made a valid point. He hated that Hongjoong wouldn’t look at him while he said it. He hated that Hongjoong spoke to him formally. He hated that Hongjoong went back to tending to his clothes like they were both on perfectly fine terms. He hated that Hongjoong never returned that night after doing his laundry.
He hated Hongjoong.
*
Busy hating Hongjoong, Seonghwa didn’t speak to him for several days. He took shorter showers so they wouldn’t have to communicate about shower times, he suddenly became very invested in reading some mangas he borrowed from San, he avoided sitting next to Hongjoong during mealtimes, and he ghosted him in their group chat.
The silent treatment was going great until he came out of their bathroom after taking a nightly shower to find Hongjoong lying in his bunk, his back facing Seonghwa and the rest of the room.
He had actually been enjoying the fact that Hongjoong seemed to sleep anywhere else but their dorm room, so the odd sight made him stop in his tracks. Not expecting him, he hadn’t changed and only had a towel wrapped around his waist.
Blinded by the embarrassment and shock of seeing Hongjoong (and being in just a towel), Seonghwa gave a hasty bow and stammered: “Oh, sorry Hongjoong-sshi, my apologies.” And apparently the embarrassment rattled him so much he defaulted into speaking formally.
Not wanting to linger on his spastic, cringey thing behavior, he beelined towards his closet to grab his clothes. He hoped that Hongjoong was asleep, and a very deep sleeper at that.
But Hongjoong wasn’t asleep. Because Seonghwa heard a quiet voice say: “Wow, I have made you hate me so much that now you are talking formally to me.”
Seonghwa’s hurried actions in his closet slowed. He put down his clothes and turned around to see Hongjoong had flipped around his bunk and was staring at him with wide eyes.
Well, for a couple of seconds.
As soon as the two made eye contact, Hongjoong’s gaze quickly averted down to his blanket.
However, Seonghwa’s gaze didn’t leave. He instead observed how small Hongjoong looked curled up in his bunk - his head hanging low, hair disheveled, face pale. His immediate concern was that he looked almost sick.
“Hey, are you alright?”
Hongjoong shook his head no but didn’t say anything else.
Seonghwa clutched his towel tightly around his waist. His hair was still dripping a bit on his shoulders, giving him chills.
Hongjoong had said that Seonghwa hated him. Sure, he hated Hongjoong. But only because Hongjoong hated him first. Right? But now, Seonghwa didn’t know what to think. Because the way Hongjoong was acting…it seemed like he didn’t hate Seonghwa at all. Which led to him being even more confused. Why act like such a cold asshole for so long? Nothing made sense.
What Seonghwa did know was that Hongjoong looked pitiful. And Seonghwa might have been the cause of that. Unlike Hongjoong who went about life not caring about how he made Seonghwa feel, Seonghwa never wanted to make anyone feel bad…even Hongjoong.
“I don’t hate you…you know.”
At his admission, Hongjoong’s face jerked upward to look at him once more.
Seonghwa let out a sigh and forced a half-smile. “I actually thought that you hated me.”
“Me?” It was apparently Hongjoong’s turn to be confused. So confused in fact that he sat up in bed. “I definitely do not hate you.”
“Well see, right there!” he gestured his hand towards Hongjoong. “Why do you talk to me like that?”
“Like what, polite?”
“No, formal! I’ve told you before, you don’t have to speak to me like that. We’re the same age. We’re roommates. We’re both trainees. I don’t understand.”
Hongjoong opened his mouth and shut it again a few times before stuttering out: “I…I…I don’t know. I’m not trying to be rude.”
“Well refusing to listen to me is rude.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Hongjoong sighed.
Seonghwa shook his head and glanced around the room. “Is it that hard to try to be my friend?”
“Look…” he looked down at his lap and seemed almost at a loss for words. “I’ve never had a roommate before. I…I don’t know how I’m supposed to act.”
“Just act comfortably,” he said like it was obvious.
His voice got softer: “Well what if I don’t feel comfortable?”
“Why don’t you feel comfortable?”
His face looked pained as he grimaced. “Nothing feels comfortable here…it’s not just you.”
“Well I don’t feel very comfortable either…especially when my roommate keeps calling me Seonghwa-sshi,” he quirked a smile. And he really didn’t feel comfortable all the time. He was far away from his hometown, around practical strangers the majority of his day, sleeping three feet apart from another practical stranger…nothing about being a trainee was comfortable.
But out of all of the people there, Seonghwa had thought Hongjoong would have been the most comfortable. With all of the constant confidence Hongjoong exuded, with him being a trainee the longest, he thought that to Hongjoong, all of this would be second nature. But just like how he had wrongly assumed Hongjoong hated him, he had also wrongly assumed about that too.
When Hongjoong looked back up at Seonghwa and returned his small smile, Seonghwa thought that maybe they did have a lot in common.
“Seonghwa-yah, will you be my friend?” he asked.
“Hm….I’ll have to think about it, Hongjoong-ah,” Seonghwa teased.
Hongjoong’s small smile grew bigger.
*
Seonghwa knew that he and Hongjoong weren’t really friends yet, but they were something at least. They talked a bit more in their dorm room and would collectively roll their eyes whenever one of the younger boys did something silly.
But Seonghwa thought that they had really made a step forward when Hongjoong asked him if he still wanted help with his vocal verses.
And that was how Seonghwa saw Hongjoong’s practical bedroom: his practice room. Technically it didn’t have Hongjoong’s name on it, but it might as well have since he never really left there. There was a piano, Hongjoong’s Macbook, some audio equipment, and a fluffy quilt and pillow in the corner.
“Ah, so this is where he sleeps every night,” Seonghwa pointedly looked at the sad, makeshift cot.
Embarrassed, Hongjoong gave a little chuckle and kicked the quilt and pillow further into the corner. “It’s only for when I’m too tired to go back to the dorms.”
“Which is every night it seems,” he said.
“Anyways,” Hongjoong quickly changed the subject. He sat down at the piano and started pressing buttons and dials. “Let’s get to work.”
There wasn’t any other seat than the bench at the piano, so Seonghwa sat down next to Hongjoong. Except the seat was small and Hongjoong exclaimed a soft “oh!” when Seonghwa sat down, their arms and thighs touching one another. “Sorry,” Hongjoong murmured and scooted further down, creating space in between them.
“I can stand if it’s easier,” Seonghwa offered since he noticed Hongjoong was leaning precariously away from him.
“No, no, I won’t make you stand the whole time. This is fine. I’m comfortable.” At that last comment, Hongjoong looked over at him with a smile in his eyes. “Are you comfortable?”
Seonghwa laughed. “Oh very. But you probably won’t be as comfortable anymore whenever you hear my singing.”
“No,” he grew serious. “Everyone has the ability to sing. It’s just like talking.”
“Yeah, and some people talk better than others,” he quipped.
“I don’t think I see it like that. I think that as long as you’re communicating what you feel, and people hear and understand you, that that’s all that matters.” As if to further drive home his point, Hongjoong quickly played a couple of chords on the piano.
Seonghwa studied him closely. Usually his energy was always projected outwards. With the group, Hongjoong was the brightest person in the room. But here in the practice room he was very quiet. And yet…somehow just as bright.
“You don’t play, do you?” Hongjoong said.
“No, not really.” Which was probably bad of him. He should learn how to play. Especially if he could learn how to be as effortless with the keys as Hongjoong. He made it look easy.
“Well this how you can learn how to get perfect pitch. Or close to it at least.” Hongjoong started playing a scale slowly. He continued to talk: “Once you learn how every note sounds then you can hear it in your head before you sing.”
And then he played that same scale again, but this time he started to sing with the notes as the scale climbed upwards.
“So then you could do this,” Hongjoong said before opening his mouth wide and singing long and clear: “C!” After a few seconds he held the C on the piano, and sure enough, the notes were the same.
Seonghwa couldn’t help but start clapping as Hongjoong finished. Hongjoong played along and bowed and said: “Thank you, thank you, sorry no autographs today, thank you.”
Seonghwa then put a few of his fingers on the piano, feeling the keys but not pressing them down.
“Here, look, here’s an F major chord,” Hongjoong said.
Hongjoong pressed down keys with both of his hands, making a very full, satisfying sound. “It’s F, A, and C. Both hands to make it easy,” he explained. “You can do it there with the higher octaves.”
Seonghwa looked over at Hongjoong’s hands and then back at his own. Seonghwa fumbled with the keys. Like always, Hongjoong was making it look easy. “Um, hang on,” Seonghwa mumbled. He didn’t want to embarrass himself and press the wrong keys.
Hongjoong moved and suddenly Hongjoong’s hands were covering both of Seonghwa’s and guiding them to the right keys. Hongjoong pressed down on Seonghwa’s fingers and the same sound was emitted from the piano. “See, you can do it too,” Hongjoong smiled.
Both of them looked up from the keys at the same time, locking eyes with one another. Hongjoong quickly extracted his hands and looked away while laughing softly under his breath. “Anyways, you don’t have to learn piano to be a good singer, but it helps to be able to hear the notes and how they work with each other.”
Seonghwa noticed that after Hongjoong had moved down the bench to help him find the keys, he hadn’t moved back. Seonghwa could feel the warmth of Hongjoong’s thigh against his.
Hongjoong started to play around with the piano, flittering around with different chords and melodies. Except, he stopped when he heard Seonghwa say: “You know, you’re a great teacher, Hongjoong-ah. You do this with all the others? No wonder you said you didn’t have time to coach me.”
“Oh, no, I only do this for my roommates,” he smiled.
And perhaps that was the definition of the start of a friendship. Having something with the person that no one else had.
*
Every so often, Hongjoong wouldn’t stay in the practice room all night. He’d come back home at a late, but still decent hour, and he and Seonghwa would watch some TV or play a game or just eat junk food.
Over the next several months, Seonghwa started learning a lot about Hongjoong from these late-night hangouts. He learned that Hongjoong loved to tease him and give him a hard time. He learned that even though Hongjoong’s clothes seemed chaotic and half-hazard, he actually put a lot of care and thought into them. He learned that Hongjoong whined whenever anything was too spicy. He learned that Hongjoong had a bad habit of biting his lips and tried to stop with no avail. He learned that Hongjoong didn’t have any girlfriends in school, unlike Seonghwa. He learned that Hongjoong’s hands were very small and very adorable (but you didn’t tell him that because he got angry). He learned that Hongjoong’s mother and father had gotten divorced when he was younger, and that he hadn’t spoken to his father in years.
And he was pleased to learn that Hongjoong did actually think that Seonghwa was funny. Except, it was nothing he ever said that made Hongjoong laugh. It was always things that he did. Like cleaning the floors with a lint roller. Sticking out his tongue in the mirror. Pouting whenever Hongjoong won a game of cards. Screaming in horror when Yunho twerked. Hongjoong found all of that hysterical. Like with the others, Hongjoong would giggle really loud and even sometimes clap his small hands together. Seonghwa liked it when he did that.
They were slowly, but surely, growing closer. It was nothing like the relationships Seonghwa had with the younger boys, but he sort-of liked that it was different than the rest.
He thought that they made their biggest jump forward in America.
They were all crammed into this tiny little loft. Eight, and then nine, boys to just a mere few beds and couches. One bathroom. One huge disaster waiting to happen. The sleeping arrangements shifted around the first few nights. Some of the boys preferred sleeping with others (Yunho, Wooyoung, San), while others (himself, Jongho, Yeosang) preferred sleeping alone, and then there was everyone left who sort-of floated around from place to place. But once everyone settled in after those first few days, Seonghwa permanently had the first floor couch. Which was fine. He didn’t like sharing his bed with the rowdy younger boys anyways.
Hongjoong was small so it was verbally decided by everyone that he would just fit in with whatever bed or cot had room that particular night. But he never ended up in a bed or a cot. At least, not that Seonghwa ever saw. Whenever Seonghwa fell asleep Hongjoong was still up, sitting in the closet laboring over his Macbook. And then the next morning whenever he woke up, Hongjoong was already fidgeting around the room.
Usually Seonghwa was tired after their long days, so he fell asleep quickly once his head hit that couch. But one night he tossed and turned. He kept hearing some of the other boys whispering, his neck was aching from the hard couch, and his mind wouldn’t stop racing from the full day of dance lessons. His train of thought slowly evolved from thinking over the choreography they had learned to thinking about what he wanted to wear in the morning to thinking about the Hongjoong sleeping arrangement mystery. Annoyed with tossing and turning, Seonghwa thought that he might as well solve the mystery once and for all.
Very softly, he sat up on the couch and tried to look around the almost pitch-dark room. The only light that streamed in was from the corners of the blinds. It was impossible to see if one of the forms on the bed next to the couch was him.
The easiest way to check if he had made it to bed was to check the closet. So, Seonghwa got up from the couch and carefully dodged all of the mess that lay on the floor in the quest to reach the closet. He had to move slowly, running his hands across the furniture and the walls to help guide him.
But eventually he made it to the closed closet door. The closed door was a good sign that he was no longer in the closet slaving away on more songs. But just to double check, Seonghwa fumbled around, found the handle, and slid open the closet door.
“Mm?” A groan and some rustling came from within the dark closet.
“Hongjoong-ah?” Seonghwa whispered.
“Hm? Seonghwa-yah?” It sounded like Seonghwa had woken him up...from a deep sleep in a damn closet.
“Are you asleep in the closet?” he whispered incredulously.
“Nah,” Hongjoong yawned, “I just dozed off for a bit.”
“For fuck’s sake, get up and come to bed. That’s ridiculous. Have you been sleeping here every night?”
“No, I’m fine, it’s just because I’ve been working late,” he whispered back.
A bright light flickering on momentarily stunned Seonghwa and he stumbled back a step. Once his eyes adjusted, he saw Hongjoong’s shadowed figure holding his Macbook in his lap. The screen looked like it was displaying some music editing software.
“What time is it?” Seonghwa whispered.
“Almost three.” Hongjoong rubbed his eye with one hand and tapped some keys with another.
He leaned down and whispered fiercely: “Will you quit that and come to bed? We have to be up at six.”
“I’m almost done, I was just taking a break. I’ll come to bed once I’m done.”
“You know, I have a strange feeling you’ve been sleeping in there every night.”
Hongjoong looked up from his Macbook. “Well I…I don’t want to disturb anyone by coming to bed so late.”
“Well it’s a good thing I’m up now. Come on. You can sleep with me.” Seonghwa waved his hand in a ‘come on’ motion.
“You sleep on the couch.”
“I’ll make room. Now let’s go before we wake other people up.”
“But I -”
He sighed heavily. “Hongjoong-ah, please come to bed.”
Hongjoong paused for a moment, but then finally relented: “Okay fine, let me just make sure all of this is saved.”
Seonghwa waited while Hongjoong finished up and then they made the blind, clumsy journey back to the couch, Hongjoong holding onto the hem of Seonghwa’s shirt along the way.
Wordlessly, Seonghwa guided Hongjoong to a lying position on the couch. Then came the jigsaw puzzle. Trying to get Seonghwa on the couch too. Using his hands to feel where Hongjoong was (his front facing the back of the couch and his back facing Seonghwa), Seonghwa tried to lay next to him, only to find that his legs and arms didn’t fit on the couch.
“Hang on,” Hongjoong whispered. “Get up. I’m smaller so I should be on the outside.”
Agreeing with him, they both got off the couch. Seonghwa laid down in the same way Hongjoong had. And then Hongjoong followed suit. He laid down with his back to Seonghwa’s, only to fall off with a “oof!”
Seonghwa turned around and immediately shushed him.
“This isn’t going to work,” Hongjoong whispered from the floor. “It’s okay, I’ll just sleep right here.”
“No, it’s because we’re trying with our backs to each other. If you put your back against my front we’ll fit,” he whispered.
“Excuse me?”
“Will you shush and just come back up here. It’s just for a couple of hours.”
Hongjoong didn’t respond, so Seonghwa reached over the end of the couch and searched until he found Hongjoong’s arm. He started to tug and eventually Hongjoong conceded, climbing back onto the couch.
They both slid backwards until Seonghwa’s back hit the end of the couch and Hongjoong’s back hit Seonghwa’s chest. From what Seonghwa could sense, they just barely fit. Except, from how stiff Hongjoong was, Seonghwa could tell he was uncomfortable for other reasons. For one, how extremely close they were.
With nowhere else to put his arms, Seonghwa’s right arm was underneath Hongjoong and his left was resting on top of his waist. With how close Seonghwa’s head was to Hongjoong’s, Hongjoong could probably feel his breath on his ear.
Hongjoong had explained to the boys early on that he didn’t particularly care for familiar touching. It was rare if you ever saw him hugging, embracing, or touching the other boys at all. So Seonghwa couldn’t even imagine what Hongjoong was thinking then. Even Seonghwa himself, who enjoyed all of those types of physicality, had never been this close to any of the others before.
“Hongjoong-ah? Are you alright?” he murmured. “If this isn’t okay, you can have the couch and I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“No, this is fine. I’m comfortable,” He could barely hear Hongjoong’s voice due to how soft it was. Except, clear as day, he did hear Hongjoong let out a soft exhale, and his body somehow magically relaxed.
And somehow magically, Seonghwa was suddenly waking up to sunlight streaming through the blinds while feeling incredibly warm, only to remember that him and Hongjoong had shared the couch. The two of them hadn’t moved through those few hours of sleep and Hongjoong still seemed to be asleep.
Seonghwa lifted his head to see if any of the other boys were up and moving around yet. He wasn’t particularly embarrassed about having slept beside Hongjoong, but he figured that Hongjoong wouldn’t want to be teased about it until the end of the century. (While Seonghwa was used to being relentlessly teased by the others.)
Lucky for them, everyone was still asleep.
Seonghwa turned his attention to Hongjoong, who very clearly was deep in sleep from the way his mouth was open. For just a moment, he hesitated waking him up. He knew that Hongjoong probably hadn’t been getting any meaningful sleep recently. And well, after days upon days of seeing Hongjoong working nonstop, being stressed, and minding very carefully over the others, it was a nice change to see him in a state of such stillness.
Despite all of that, he rocked his body very gently against Hongjoong’s. “Hongjoong-ah, time to wake up,” he whispered.
Hongjoong’s mouth closed, his head turned against the couch, and he let out a soft “nnnnng” noise.
“So was that more comfortable than the closet?” Seonghwa asked.
Hongjoong moved his head to look back at Seonghwa. He had his usual bags under his eyes, most definitely, but to Seonghwa at least, he looked more well rested than usual. “Nah, I think I prefer the closet,” he teased.
Seonghwa rolled his eyes and shoved Hongjoong playfully off the couch. The loud thud Hongjoong made and his subsequent giggles woke the rest of the boys up.
*
They slept like that the rest of the time in America.
(One morning the other boys discovered them still snuggled up asleep and proceeded to bully them both relentlessly. Seonghwa begged them half-good-naturedly and half-seriously to stop the teasing, but oddly enough, Hongjoong didn’t seem bothered by it at all. Beyond a blush or a hand over his eyes, he didn’t react at all. Which made Seonghwa start to wonder why he was much more insecure about the teasing than Hongjoong, especially since Seonghwa was the one who was supposed to be more comfortable with touching.)
When they got back to Korea, everything went back to normal…sort-of.
Well, Hongjoong went back to calling Seonghwa “Seonghwa-sshi.” He kept the informality, which was good, but Seonghwa couldn’t help but wonder if the change had something to do with America. Was their sleeping arrangement too off-putting to Hongjoong? Did it make him not want to be that close to him anymore? Should Seonghwa have just left Hongjoong sleeping in that closet?
Seonghwa decided not to press the honorific issue since Hongjoong was being perfectly pleasant to him otherwise. Things at the company were starting to become busier as their impending debut ascended on them. Even still, Hongjoong made time to hang out with Seonghwa. Wanting to get away from everyone at the dorm, they started venturing out more. They’d go to the store together and get a bunch of junk food and ramen, go to look at clothes they couldn’t afford, or go to the arcade so they could both lose terribly at all the games.
One night they decided to take advantage of an easy day of practice and walk the streets of downtown Seoul. Even though it was almost summer, the night was still a bit chilly and Seonghwa was wrapped up in a light jacket while Hongjoong covered the majority of his face with a beanie. Even though it looked like his beanie pretty much blinded him from how far down it was on his forehead, Hongjoong still looked up at all the buildings as they walked.
Seonghwa snorted. “You’d think I was the one from Seoul and you were the one from the countryside by how you’re looking at everything.”
Hongjoong giggled and glanced over at him. “That’s funny. But I just like looking at all the lights.”
He hadn’t really given the lights of the city much thought, so he looked up at his surroundings. The streets themselves were so lit you almost forgot it was late at night. But looking up at the neon lights flickering and buzzing against the dark sky, he realized Hongjoong was onto something. None of the neon signs on the buildings matched - some were purple, yellow, red, green. But somehow they meshed into one cohesive picture of a place that looked loud, yet inviting.
“I wish we had more time to do stuff like this,” Hongjoong said.
Still looking up at the lights, he said: “Well, at least we’re doing it right now.”
“Yeah, we are.”
They found an empty bench on a more bustling part of the city. Their intent: people watching. One man bustled past them quickly with a large sack of groceries and a necktie dangling precariously from his neck.
“His wife’s not going to be happy,” Hongjoong motioned with his head over to the man as he sped away.
Seonghwa shook his head. “Mm, no, he’s not going to be happy at her. She called him at the last minute and told him to pick up some groceries on the way home from the office.”
He laughed at that and clapped his hands. “He did look irritated, didn’t he?”
“Maybe she made him pick up some female products or something too.”
“Female products?”
He leaned over and shoved Hongjoong lightly. “You know what I mean!”
“Hm, I don’t think I do.”
Seonghwa’s eye caught a mother rolling a stroller through the crowd. He tsked under his breath. “It’s too late to have a baby out in this weather.”
He searched through the sea of people to find the stroller. “Maybe that’s the man’s wife. Maybe he was running from her!”
Seonghwa couldn’t help but to bust out laughing at that, and Hongjoong soon joined in. He leaned in closer to Seonghwa, his head just briefly resting on Seonghwa’s shoulder before he leaned away again.
After their laughter had worn off, they grew quiet as Seonghwa scowered the crowd for another victim of their mockery.
“Seonghwa-sshi, do you think we’ll make it?” he heard Hongjoong say.
Seonghwa looked down at his phone’s lock screen. “I guess it is kinda late, we can leave now if you want.”
“What? No, I mean…do you think we’ll make it? Like make it big?”
He turned towards Hongjoong to find him fiddling with some of his rings. “Hm…well,” Seonghwa stopped to think for a moment before continuing: “I don’t know. Well…I’m more worried about me and the others than you to be honest.”
“What do you mean?” Hongjoong shoved his hands back in his jacket pockets and met Seonghwa’s gaze.
“There’s no way you won’t make it big. You’re too talented for that. And you’ve worked so hard. Life isn’t that unfair,” he explained.
And he meant what he said. Hongjoong was one of those people you could look at and tell that they were made to be famous. And not just like, “yeah, he’s got some good music” famous. No, more like, “this person is a god” famous. He seemed to be good at everything, had a very distinct style, a hard-working attitude, and never rubbed anyone the wrong way. (Well, except Seonghwa at first, but they were past that he hoped.)
Hongjoong dipped his chin down. “Well, I don’t know about that. But we’re either all going to become big or none of us will. It’s not just me doing this. We’re a team.”
Oh, yet another thing about Hongjoong that made him such a loveable, destined-for-greatness person: his loyalty and dedication. If Seonghwa didn’t admire him so much he would be jealous of him. “Yeah, we’re a team,” Seonghwa smiled at him.
“And we help each other, yes? We all try our best and help the others be their best too.”
Seonghwa chuckled a bit. “I’m confused, I thought you were asking for my thoughts? And now somehow you’re the one giving me the comforting words.”
“Hm,” Hongjoong bit his lip. “I guess so…” his voice trailed off.
Seonghwa felt like he had taken the conversation in the wrong direction. Clearly, Hongjoong was the one who needed more reassurance. And because Seonghwa said that he was more worried about the others, Hongjoong had gone back to his normal habit of helping everyone else before himself. Seonghwa had the pivot the conversation back around. “The rest of us are worried too, you know,” he said. “Or, scared might be a better word.”
“I’m just…ah,” Hongjoong sighed and shook his head. “I just don’t want all of our hard work to be wasted. I don’t want us to debut and then just…disappear.”
He clicked his tongue. “You know I believe in karma.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “I think that if we try our best, love what we do, and treat everyone with kindness, that karma will reward us successful. Whatever that entails. No matter how many records or concert seats we sell. We’ll be successful in our own right.”
Hongjoong nodded his head and then looked up at all the lights shimmering around them. “I want to dream big, but the higher the climb the harder the fall, you know?”
Seonghwa didn’t have a good response to that. He figured if they dreamt big and failed it would be disappointing, but if they dreamt small and succeeded, that they would never have a chance to be big. Instead he just mindlessly agreed with a “Yeah” while he stared at Hongjoong who seemingly was off in his own world.
And since they were talking about deeper things than they normally did, the “Seonghwa-sshi” issue immediately came to his mind. He figured that since Hongjoong was being so open with him right now, maybe he’d explain to him why he had gone back to referring to him formally.
“Hongjoong-ah?” he spoke up softly. “Why did you start referring to me as Seonghwa-sshi again?”
That brought Hongjoong’s attention away from the city and back to Seonghwa. “Can I be honest?”
Well, that was never something good to hear. “Sure,” Seonghwa shrugged with a small pit in his stomach.
“I don’t like calling you Seonghwa-yah.”
“Why?” Even with all of the relationship bonding they had done, Hongjoong still didn’t see Seonghwa as a close friend?
“It isn’t because I don’t see us as friends, because I am your friend now. I hope at least,” Hongjoong laughed nervously, reading Seonghwa’s mind. “I just…I refer to all the other boys that way. And don’t get me wrong, I see them as equals in a sense of we’re a team and we all work together. But…ahhh, how do I explain this?” He shook his head and tugged a bit on his beanie. “I’m the leader. But, since you’re the oldest, you’re also a leader too. So we’re equals in a sense of, we take care of everyone. And more importantly…you help to take care of me.”
Hongjoong paused and a heaviness fell onto them. “It felt wrong for me to refer to you in the same way I refer to the other boys,” he finally continued. “I know that might not make a lot of sense, but that’s the way I see it anyways.”
It was different. And Seonghwa didn’t know if he liked that, or even fully believed Hongjoong’s explanation. But Hongjoong wasn’t a normal type of person. With his numerous piercings and artsy shoes, Seonghwa realized that he shouldn’t have expected anything else from him. And he supposed that he had to be fine with that.
Did it bother him that Hongjoong didn’t like calling him Seonghwa-yah? Yes. But at the same time, Hongjoong was singling him out as special by referring him differently than the others. Perhaps this was Hongjoong’s way of being close to him. His way of being partners.
“No, that makes sense,” Seonghwa nodded. “You see us as equals.”
“Yes. I know I’m technically the leader, but I want your input on things. I want us to manage the younger boys as a team. Is that okay?” he looked expectantly at him.
Seonghwa gave him a reassuring smile. “Yes, that’s okay. Is it okay if I still call you Hongjoong-ah though?”
He tried to read Hongjoong’s reaction to try and gauge how he truly felt about it and not how he was just going to politely respond. But, Hongjoong put on a smile and Seonghwa couldn’t decide how genuine it was. “Yes, of course. I don’t mind.”
*
Seonghwa might have been acting overdramatically…but he wanted to die. It was the worst day of his life. He wanted to curl up in some dark corner and never come out again. He wanted to purge his name from the earth and make everyone forget he ever existed. He had never been so embarrassed, ashamed, and humiliated. He felt like he had gone through hours of torture and came out a worse man for it.
Their first debut recording session went fine. While recording “Treasure” there weren’t any cameras shoved in his face, there weren’t as many people in the room, he had plenty of time to practice his lines, and Hongjoong had helped him figure out how to hit the notes consistently.
But “Pirate King” was the complete opposite. Tons of cameras, tons of people, very little time to practice, and no Hongjoong. He felt confident right up until he stepped into the booth. Then came the shitshow. He hit every wrong note as humanly possible, he felt oddly sweaty and shaky, he couldn’t even think straight to try and make any corrections, and the whole ordeal was caught on camera for their reality show. It was hard trying to read the lyrics, focus on hitting the right notes, and attempting to ignore the cameras all while fighting the burning, frustrated tears that brimmed at the back of eyes.
The whole world was going to know he was the weak link, just like he had feared. That he was there to just be a visual and nothing more. Everyone else, even Yeosang, breezed through their recordings and Seonghwa felt like his took an hour. Once he was finished, he could sense the quietness and tension in the room. Not many of the others would look at him. They knew. They knew he fucking sucked. As everyone else finished with theirs, he hid behind his lyric pages, closed his eyes, and tried very hard not to just sob right there. He had already apologized a hundred times over to Eden-hyung and the rest of the production team, but he felt like he owed every one of his members an apology too for bringing the whole team down.
He stayed mostly silent the rest of the ride home and thankfully, no one brought it up. Once back at the dorms, while everyone else began rummaging around for dinner, he told everyone that he was going to take a shower and proceeded to take solace in him and Hongjoong’s room.
After holding in his tears for so many hours, it felt good to curl up on his top bunk and slowly let them all out. He didn’t understand where everything had gone so wrong. He had never struggled this much before in his life. He was always pretty good at school, had lots of friends, picked up dancing fairly easily. But he began to wonder how he had even made it past the first audition at all. He didn’t deserve to be there, that much was clear.
As he was crying, he kept his face turned into his pillow to try and muffle the sound - the last thing he wanted was for one of the boys to wander in there and try to comfort him. It wasn’t a good look for a hyung to be so weak and useless.
He hadn’t cried this hard in such a long time. He knew that whenever he finally stopped his face would be swollen, red, and puffy. But even his vanity couldn’t force him to stop.
He knew that if his parents were there they would tell him that he just needed to work harder. But in all honesty, Seonghwa didn’t see much a point. Hongjoong had been helping him on his voice and tone so much, along with the other teachers, and it all to no avail. He hadn’t improved at all. Still practically tone deaf.
Suddenly he heard a knock at the door and his sobs reactively cut off. He turned his head towards the closed door.
“Seonghwa-hyung, are you finished with your shower? We have saved you some food,” he heard San say.
Shit, he had to make his voice seem like he hadn’t been blubbering for thirty minutes. He swiped at his eyes a few times and sniffled a bit before calling out: “I’m not very hungry! I think I’ll just stay in here and clean a bit!”
Clean a bit? Yep. His cover was that he was showering and then cleaning a bit. Nice going, Seonghwa. He couldn’t even fucking lie correctly.
“Oh…okay,” San said and then he heard his footsteps pad away. It was then followed by some murmuring commotion that he couldn’t quite make out. He imagined that they were onto his charade. Was he really going to have to climb down his bunk, put on a mask to cover his red nose, and start sweeping up to make them leave him alone?
“Cleaning? Yeah okay,” he then heard Hongjoong’s voice carry from outside in the hall. Footsteps approaching followed.
He realized that there was not enough time to put on a show of pretending to be perfectly fine and having a grand ole’ time sweeping up. So, he was left with nothing else but to throw his blanket over his head just as someone, who he presumed to be Hongjoong, opened their door and closed it behind them.
“Seonghwa-sshi.”
Seonghwa couldn’t decide if he would have preferred Hongjoong to be the one to find him like this or one of the younger boys. He supposed Hongjoong was actually probably the worst-case scenario. The last thing he wanted to be around right then was someone that was naturally good at everything. Unlike himself, who seemed to be naturally bad at everything.
He tried to suppress a sniffle when he said: “Okay, I lied about the cleaning. I’m actually not feeling very well and don’t want to get anyone else sick. I just didn’t want to worry anyone.”
“You know, you’re a terrible liar,” he heard Hongjoong say.
“I’m not lying. T.M.I. but I just threw up in the bathroom. Very deathly ill over here. You need to stay far away from me. Tell the others too.”
“Okay, okay, nice acting chops. Now come down here and talk to me.”
“No thank you,” Seonghwa replied.
“Seonghwa-yah,” Hongjoong said sharply. “Come down.”
Hearing Hongjoong address him like that made the hairs on his arms stand up. For a moment, he was speechless. For a moment, he wanted to obey him. But, he was the older one here, so he didn’t necessarily have to. “Hongjoong-ah, I said no thank you.”
He heard Hongjoong sigh and then suddenly the bunk bed was shaking and the rails were rattling as Hongjoong climbed up the ladder to the upper bunk.
Shocked, Seonghwa threw his blanket off of him and came to meet Hongjoong’s gaze as he crouched down by Seonghwa’s feet. “What do you think you’re doing?”
It was very easy to read Hongjoong’s face as he got his first look at Seonghwa post-emotional breakdown. His face softened and he murmured, “You’ve been crying.”
Seonghwa groaned in humiliation and tossed the blanket back over his head as he laid back down. “No, I’m sick.”
“I know what you’re upset about, and it’s gonna be okay,” he said gently.
Seonghwa squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself to just die right then and there. “Please just go away.”
Without Hongjoong even saying anything to warn him, Seonghwa was horrified as he felt Hongjoong crawl up his legs before he yanked back the blanket, laid down next to Seonghwa, and pulled the blanket up over them both.
With both of them in the bunk lying next to each other, they had just a bit more room than they had back on the sofa in America, but not much.
“Um,” Seonghwa said, still stunned from the very out-of-character behavior from Hongjoong.
“Is this okay?” he asked him, which Seonghwa thought was funny since he was asking him after the fact.
“You know, you better hope I’m not actually sick,” he joked.
“I’ll take the chance,” Hongjoong said. “But I figured you wouldn’t want me to be able to see you when I tell you that there’s no reason to be upset.”
“You could’ve told me that over text,” he pointed out.
“Yes, but I know you’re always telling me that I’m not…” Hongjoong’s voice lowered, “physical enough with you. And I want to make you feel better.”
He was speechless for a moment. Hongjoong was putting so much effort into making Seonghwa feel better. And he didn’t even deserve it. “Well, I appreciate it then. Thank you.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t say more to you while we were in the recording studio. But I didn’t want to make you feel any worse.”
A shot of embarrassing cringe coursed through his body at the mention of the disastrous recording session. “It was impossible for me to feel any worse than I already did.”
Hongjoong must have turned his head towards Seonghwa because he could feel his breath as he said: “I know you don’t like how things went in the recording today, but please don’t give up. We all have days like that.”
He snorted. “Some more than others.”
“Please don’t say things like that. There are loads of things you’re better at than me. There’s no sense in comparing.”
“Like what? Hongjoongie, you’re good at literally everything.” And Seonghwa couldn’t think of a single thing he was particularly good at. He supposed he was more handsome than the average Korean, but that wasn’t anything he had control over. And he would eventually get old and ugly. Hongjoong would be talented for forever.
“I worked my ass off though. I sucked at everything at first. Dancing, writing music, rapping. And I’m still not where I want to be. But I’m getting better every day. And so will you.”
“But I am working hard. What do you do if you just don’t have what it takes?” Seonghwa asked. Hongjoong had way too much hope in him.
“We all believe in you…I believe in you. Please don’t give up.”
Tears began to prick at Seonghwa’s eyes at the kind words, and he was grateful for the darkness they lay in. He opened his mouth to reply but found that his throat started to tighten. Upon fear his voice would crack or otherwise give away his rise in emotion, he chose not to say anything.
He heard some movement from Hongjoong and he felt the back of Hongjoong’s cold hand on his cheek. “Are you crying again?” he whispered.
His head jerked back at the coldness of Hongjoong’s hand, and yet inexplicably, his own hand rose up to cover Hongjoong’s, keeping it safely on his cheek. “No, I think you’ve made me feel a bit better.”
One of Hongjoong’s fingers squeezed Seonghwa’s hand before Hongjoong slowly retracted his hand from his face. “Good. Will you come eat some dinner now?”
Even though Seonghwa felt better, he still didn’t want to face the others. He knew none of them would mention any of the day’s events, but just looking at their faces, knowing that they all knew about the emotional implosion he had…his embarrassment limit had been reached for the day. “Can you bring some food in here for me?”
Hongjoong knocked his head lightly against Seonghwa’s. “Sure. We had some fried chicken, but I don’t think you’d like that. I think I’ll bring you some instant noodles instead.”
He sat up straight in the bed, tossing the blanket off of them both. “What?! No, I love fried chicken!”
Hongjoong burst out into laughter. His hair was disheveled from being under the blanket.
“Ugh, you’re the worst,” Seonghwa rolled his eyes. “That’s it, off the bed,” he pointed.
“You better be nice to me if you want fried chicken,” he said as he began to crawl down the bunk.
“Oh, Kim Hongjoong-nim, you are so amazing, a king amongst peasants, the best composer of our generation, the strongest leader K-pop has ever seen,” Seonghwa used exaggerated formality.
Hongjoong paused on the ladder and smirked up at him. “That’s more like it.”
Dutifully, he returned with fried chicken and they spent of the night watching videos on Hongjoong’s Macbook. Hongjoong promised him that he’d really help him on his vocals for their next recording and Seonghwa figured that it might not be the worst day of his life after all.
*
Seonghwa and Hongjoong only grew closer after that. Hongjoong had kept his word and helped him on his vocals for the rest of the songs on their debut album. In return, Seonghwa helped him care for all of the other boys, ensuring their debut went as smoothly as possible. Which it did. Some of the boys like Mingi and San claimed that they knew all along that they’d be successful. But Seonghwa knew that none of them expected the public response that they got. They all believed that they’d debut quietly, sell maybe a couple thousand albums, and be pleased with that.
They ended up selling over 7,000 albums and garnered enough attention that KQ held a fan meeting.
Hongjoong was jittering the moment they arrived in the back of the meeting hall. “How many people do you think there’ll be?” he said to Seonghwa while the others chattered loudly about how excited they were.
“Oh, I’m sure there’ll be a good amount,” he nodded. He knew the company wouldn’t hold a fan meeting for just a dozen fans. There would probably be at least fifty people there.
He bounced anxiously on his heels. “What if only a few people show up?” Hongjoong asked.
Seonghwa couldn’t help but grin at Hongjoong’s nervousness. It was rare to see him this way. Normally he had excitable energy when it came to their other schedules, like performing and photoshoots. But not energy like this. Hongjoong seemed…scared. “People will come, Hongjoong-ah.” He gave him a reassuring smile.
And they did. And there was about a hundred. Even though Seonghwa logically knew that there would be that many, he was still blown away when he walked out and saw all their fans cheering and waving and looking at them like they were…well…idols.
They had fans. Real fans.
To none of the others’ surprise, Yunho cried. The crowd went “awh” as the rest of the group teased him about it. He was always the more sensitive one.
If any of them had anxious energy before getting on the stage, it had all dissipated by the time they got off. They were all talking loudly as they drank water and ate snacks, saying things like: “Can you believe it?” “All those people!” “Did you hear the one who kept shouting my name?” “I can’t wait to call my parents” “It’s like we’re superstars now.” Any tears that they had had all dried. It was all pure excitement now for what was to come in their future.
With all the commotion, it took Seonghwa a moment to realize that Hongjoong was no longer in the group cluster. He tapped Yeosang’s shoulder. “Have you seen Hongjoong?”
Yeosang went “hm?” and proceeded to look for Hongjoong as well. “Maybe he went to the bathroom.”
Seonghwa supposed that was possible. But something still irked him about it. He figured he could probably use a bathroom break too, and he decided that that was why he was going off to search for Hongjoong - not because he was worried about him or anything.
A staff member pointed him in the direction of the bathroom, and it didn’t take him long to find Hongjoong hovering in front of the bathroom door, with his front facing a corner in the wall. “Hongjoong-ah, there you are,” Seonghwa said.
When Hongjoong turned around, Seonghwa realized that he had never seen Hongjoong cry. Sure, maybe some stray tears here and there. But not like how he was crying then. He attempted to cover his face with hands, but Seonghwa could still see how his chest shook and how red the tip of his nose was. A sharp jolt of pain ran down Seonghwa’s body. He was amazed how Hongjoong was crying so hard without making so much of a peep.
Without hesitation, Seonghwa rushed Hongjoong into a tight hug. Hongjoong still kept his face covered with his hands but rested them on Seonghwa’s arm. One of Seonghwa’s hands came up to hold the back of Hongjoong’s head.
“Hongjoongie, why are you crying? You’re supposed to be happy!”
Hongjoong half chuckled-half hiccupped. “I am happy.” His voice was thick and Seonghwa could hear the mucus lodged in his nose and throat. “But I started crying and now I can’t stop.” And then, it was like Hongjoong finally let go and released a loud, choked sob.
It almost hurt to hear. It was like hearing a child cry. You wanted the sound to stop, not because it was aggravating, but because you couldn’t stand to see someone so innocent in that much pain. “Sh, it’s going to be okay. The boys are over there celebrating. They’re all saying that we’re famous now. We’re going to be like BTS, except more handsome.” Seonghwa tried to joke with him, hoping that would help. (God forbid Wooyoung heard him say something like that.)
It did muster up another chuckle/hiccup from him, but his head still stayed buried in his hands.
Seonghwa reasoned if he kept talking, maybe Hongjoong’s attention would turn towards him and away from whatever he was thinking about that was causing him to cry. “You’ve worked really hard. We all have you to thank for all of this. For pushing us every day, and helping Wooyoung with his stage fright, and giving Mingi confidence in his raps, and comforting Jongho when he was homesick, and somehow curing my tone-deafness -”
It was then when Hongjoong cut him off. “You aren’t tone-deaf.” Hongjoong pulled his head away from his hands and Seonghwa froze.
Girls were pretty and boys were handsome. Seonghwa thought it was simple. Engrained in him since birth and reaffirmed throughout his life. Girls were like cherry blossoms. Dainty, vibrant, soft, comforting, pretty. And boys were like the tree itself. Strong, necessary, dependable, tall, handsome.
But looking at Hongjoong, Seonghwa suddenly didn’t understand why boys couldn’t be cherry blossoms. Because Hongjoong was everything that the word pretty defined. Sure, his makeup was going to need some very generous touching up. But despite that, his eyebrows were raised and dainty, his eyes wide and vibrant, his face smooth and soft, his gaze inviting and comforting. He was pretty.
And Seonghwa forgot what they were talking about.
“Seonghwa-sshi?” Hongjoong said.
Seonghwa figured Hongjoong must have noticed that he was staring at him an awfully long amount of time. His face grew warm, and he probably blushed as he looked away. “So, um,” he struggled to get his mind back on the conversation. “Why could you not stop crying?”
Hongjoong began to shift in his arms and Seonghwa took that as an indication he didn’t want to be held anymore, so he dropped his arms and took a step back.
“I don’t really know, I guess,” Hongjoong said, by that point his tears had tapered off. He began wiping at the underneath of his eyes - an almost pointless task.
“Here,” he gestured to him with his hand.
Hongjoong took a step forward, knowing Seonghwa’s intent.
Seonghwa began to help him with wiping away some of the puddled eye makeup. It was something the members often did for one another, usually from the complications caused by sweat. But right then, especially since he kept confusing the words pretty and handsome in his head, it wasn’t anything like when he helped Yeosang or Jongho. Because there with Hongjoong, Seonghwa kept having to glance away. He worried that Hongjoong would know he was being weird inside his head, so Seonghwa had figure out a way to rationalize the weirdness out of his head.
Maybe if he started thinking about all the ways Hongjoong was handsome, not pretty, maybe that would allow him some sort of normal thinking.
Hongjoong was strong. That was the first time that Seonghwa had ever seen him cry, that must be something. That was a handsome trait to have.
“I just kept thinking about something,” Hongjoong murmured. “About how a few weeks ago I was wondering if this was all worth it.”
Thinking about Hongjoong crying diverted Seonghwa’s thoughts back to Hongjoong having big, welled-up tears in his pretty eyes. Scratch that. What else? Well, Hongjoong was a necessary aspect of their group. The first trainee. Their leader. He set the tone, kept them organized, focused them on their goals. Another handsome trait.
“A few weeks ago I was feeling so tired. And I…” His voice trailed off and Seonghwa glanced up from Hongjoong’s cheeks to lock eyes with him.
Big mistake. With Seonghwa so close to his face, leaned down to Hongjoong’s level, Hongjoong’s eyes were right there.
He wanted to look away. And normally, he would have. But Hongjoong’s eyes stayed on his. And somehow, Seonghwa knew that Hongjoong was finding their eye contact reassuring.
But the weird feelings still consumed Seonghwa’s thoughts.
Handsome. He had to think handsome.
Hongjoong was dependable. Always on time to rehearsals. Never sick. Always nearby if something ever went wrong. Never had one of those vocal off-days where for some reason you just couldn’t manage to hit a single note. Definitely a handsome trait.
“I imagined what it would be like to quit.” Hongjoong said lowly.
“Really?” Seonghwa was shocked.
“Not that I wanted to,” he rushed. “I just…it was one of those intrusive thoughts, you know?”
And Seonghwa did know. He was having intrusive thoughts as they spoke. Thoughts he desperately wanted rid of. Quickly, he thought to his list of handsome traits. What was left?
Tall.
Seonghwa was fucked.
Hongjoong was not tall. What Hongjoong was was so dainty, and so vibrant, and so soft, and so comforting, and so pretty. And there was more. So lovely, and so kind, and so cute, and so sweet, and so small, and so precious, and so delicate, and so -
“Yes, I do know,” Seonghwa said.
By that point, just adding to the ridiculousness of all of it, Seonghwa had stopped wiping away at Hongjoong’s cheeks, leaving them standing there, inches from each other’s noses, with his hands cupping Hongjoong’s face.
“And I guess…I guess I felt guilty for thinking all of those things. Because people came. And we’re gonna make it big.”
They were going to make it big. Seonghwa was convinced of it. And he was also convinced something was deeply wrong with him, since suddenly yet another unwelcome thought came over him.
He wanted to see Hongjoong cry again. Not sadistically of course, but just so Seonghwa could get to him faster and comfort him better and wipe away his tears more efficiently.
And it was Seonghwa’s turn to feel guilty.
*
Seonghwa couldn’t stop thinking about Hongjoong being pretty. Had he always looked like that? He couldn’t decide if something about Hongjoong had changed or something within him had. Because he definitely didn’t use to look like that.
He started looking around at some of the others. Maybe it was just all the makeup and clothes and jewelry that they were wore so often that was confusing him.
Wooyoung had very nice facial features. A strong jaw, nice lips, angular nose. But the more Seonghwa looked at him, the more he just saw Wooyoung as a specimen. He didn’t look at Wooyoung in the whole. He kept digesting him in parts without any emotion attached. The jaw, the lips, the nose. He nit-picked his face, trying to figure out why his face was so handsome to look at.
So he moved to Yeosang. Yeosang had gentler features like Hongjoong. And he had a very nice face shape. The ideal Korean shape. He had perfect eye proportions. A masculine mouth. Wore blonde hair well. The more Seonghwa looked at Yeosang, the more he wanted to pick apart his own face for not matching up enough to the handsome Korean standards.
Jongho was too strong to be pretty, Mingi was too cool, Yunho was too masculine, and San was too adorable.
And Hongjoong was still pretty. To Seonghwa’s surprise, he wasn’t just pretty in performance makeup and outfits. No, Seonghwa shared a room with him and he was aggravatingly pretty all the time. In the morning, late at night, while studying English, while working on his Macbook, straight out of the shower…
Seonghwa needed affirmation that he wasn’t weird or losing his mind or…well, gay. Because he liked girls. He had girlfriends in school. Girls were pretty. He liked girls.
So why was Hongjoong pretty then?
Maybe he just had a feminine face. Maybe he was spending too much time with Hongjoong and not enough time with girls and this is how his desperation/loneliness/thirstiness was coming out. Or maybe, Hongjoong really was just pretty and everyone thought it too.
So, purely for research, Seonghwa approached Yunho about the issue. Other than Jongho, Yunho was probably the most “man’s man” out of them all there. Seonghwa felt that if Yunho also thought that Hongjoong was pretty, then it must be safe and it was probably just public opinion.
Coincidentally, Hongjoong’s birthday was the following week and the group had started brainstorming how they were going to celebrate it. It was the perfect time to bring the topic up.
Seonghwa, Yunho, and San were all sitting in the dorm living area on their phones, desperately scrolling through websites trying to think about what the perfect present would be. However, Seonghwa had already decided that he was going to conquer the “pretty problem” before he attempted to think about what he was going to get Hongjoong for his birthday.
“You think he would like a plushie?” San asked.
“Please no, he already has way too many as it is,” Seonghwa replied. Their room was already junky enough as it was. Not to mention, Hongjoong never tidied up the plushies he did have.
“What about markers? He likes to draw on his shoes,” Yunho said.
“Hm, maybe,” Seonghwa shrugged.
“Well what are you getting him, Seonghwa-hyung? Since you are his roommate,” San said.
“It’s a surprise,” Seonghwa lied.
Yunho and San both looked at each other with a smirk. “Yeah, he doesn’t know either,” Yunho laughed.
San laughed as well and stood up from the couch. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
“Alright, thanks for telling us,” Yunho bid, looking back down at his phone.
San grumbled and shuffled out of the room.
Seonghwa raised his eyebrows. It couldn’t have been any better of a situation. Him and Yunho alone so none of the others could judge him on his strange thoughts about Hongjoong. He knew that he would have to get the conversation started fast before San came back. But he couldn’t just come out and ask: hEy, yUnhO-YAh, dO yoU tHINk HoNgJOOng iS PREttY?
No, he needed to be smart about it. Just kinda casually slide into the topic. There was no better way than to stay on the topic they were already on.
“Maybe I’ll get Hongjoong some clothes,” Seonghwa said.
“I feel like he probably already has enough clothes. I have seen his closet,” Yunho replied.
Seonghwa used all of his brain power to try and lead the conversation to the topic. “I don’t know, I kinda want to get him something that’ll make him look pretty.”
He cringed inwardly immediately after he said it. That definitely wasn’t a smooth way to transition. And Yunho must’ve thought so too, because his head shot up from looking down at his phone.
“Pretty?” Yunho repeated.
Well, Seonghwa had already dug himself the hole, so might as well jump full on into it. “Sure,” he winced. “Hongjoong can be pretty, right?”
Yunho tilted his head, like he didn’t exactly know what Seonghwa was getting at. Seonghwa didn’t know either. “I mean, I guess. He is a handsome guy. What kind of clothes are you thinking?”
He shrugged. “I dunno. You said handsome though. Is he pretty or handsome?”
Yunho scrunched up his face in confusion and laughed. “Hyung, I do not know. Both I guess. What are you trying to get at?”
If Seonghwa dropped the topic it would make him seem even more strange than he already was. He might as well fully explain the issue he was having with the two words. “Pretty and handsome mean different things, right?”
“I have not really thought about it…they seem like synonyms to me. They mean that someone is attractive.”
“But don’t they mean different kinds of attractiveness?”
“Well, everyone is a different kind of attractive. Because we are all different people. I guess I just use whichever word fits the person more.”
Yunho was wise, and what he said made a lot of sense. Maybe Seonghwa was just blowing it out of proportion. Just because he thought Hongjoong was pretty didn’t mean Seonghwa was weird or creepy or gay. It just fit him better because Hongjoong wasn’t a conventionally attractive guy like Yeosang or Wooyoung or Yunho.
It was at that point San came back from the bathroom talking loudly about an idea he had about Hongjoong’s present and the conversation was thankfully dropped and Seonghwa felt relieved enough to start brainstorming up a present himself.
*
Seonghwa didn’t want to brag too much, since he had an unfair advantage of being Hongjoong’s roommate, but he had gotten him the perfect present. But first he had to sit and wait while the others gave them theirs. And the others, well, they tried. It was cute. In all fairness, since they had just debuted all of them were still practically broke. So they got creative. Yeosang got Hongjoong some candy, San made some (mostly unflattering) caricatures of Hongjoong, and Mingi gave Hongjoong a coupon book filled with things like “Mingi will wake up on time for an entire week” and “Mingi will not team up with Jongho to torment Hongjoong-hyung for an entire day.”
“Seonghwa-hyung, it is your turn!” Jongho shouted over everyone as he shoved some of the wrapping paper that was on the coffee table onto the floor.
They were all sitting on the sofas in their dorm’s living area and Wooyoung had been oddly gracious enough to make everyone some noodles to go along with the other birthday sweets they had strewn about.
Seonghwa couldn’t help but bend over and start to pick up the discarded wrapping paper. (He was trying to control himself over the mess of the table.) Out of the corner of his eye he could see Hongjoong reaching over and grabbing Seonghwa’s present. For some reason, he got anxious seeing him holding his gift. Feeling shy and suddenly nervous about him possibly not liking it, Seonghwa turned his attention toward organizing the wrapping paper scraps into a neat pile.
“I wonder if it is another coupon book,” Mingi laughed.
Hongjoong chuckled as he examined Seonghwa’s gift. It was small - rectangular shape. “Hm, probably not, but with how these presents have been going so far, I wouldn’t be surprised!”
“Look at him!” Wooyoung pointed at Seonghwa. “Knowing him, he probably got Hongjoong-hyung cleaning supplies!”
Seonghwa slowly sat back up and glared at Wooyoung while some of the other younger members laughed.
“Hey hey hey, let’s see what it is first before we bully him too much,” Hongjoong grinned and then started to carefully open the wrapping.
Seonghwa licked his lips and bounced one of his knees. “If you don’t like it, I won’t be upset or anything. I wasn’t too sure what which one’s you’d prefer.”
He briefly paused in unwrapping to flash Seonghwa a quick, reassuring smile. “Nah, I’m sure I’ll like it.”
“Wowww,” the group said once Hongjoong had finally finished unwrapping the gift.
“He got me nail polish!” he held up the set so everyone could see.
“Ooo,” was the group’s response.
It was a clear plastic box of four bottles of nail polish: grey, white, light blue, and dark blue. It hadn’t been terribly expensive, but obviously it was more expensive than any of the other gifts Hongjoong had been given.
Seonghwa studied Hongjoong’s face to see if he could get a clear reading of how he felt about the nail polish. And Hongjoong seemed to be beaming. He held the box close to his body with a big, pretty smile on his face. His eyes flittered down from admiring the bottles, to looking at the other boys who were clearly impressed by the gift, to then finally looking at Seonghwa.
“This is way too nice, Seonghwa-sshi. Thank you,” Hongjoong bowed his head.
“You’re welcome,” he said. Seonghwa figured he’d buy Hongjoong a hundred more nail polish sets if it meant he could see him that happy about something.
For the others, Seonghwa decided to explain his gift decision (and probably flex that he knew Hongjoong better than anyone else). “Hongjoong’s started doing that Polished Man campaign, and I noticed he only had black nail polish, so I thought he’d like some more to use. And his favorite color is blue. And yeah, I saw that in the store and thought he’d like it.”
“Wow, I’m impressed!” Hongjoong said, still looking at the nail polish.
“Way to make us all look bad, Seonghwa-hyung!” Yunho whined.
“Obviously Seonghwa-hyung did not get the memo that we were giving Hongjoong-hyung crap for his birthday,” Mingi waved around his coupon book.
Hongjoong giggled loudly and passed along the nail polish set to San who had been reaching out for it since Hongjoong unwrapped it. “You guys, it’s fine. Honestly. I appreciate all of your gifts, no matter how crappy or how ugly they are.”
“But mine is better,” Seonghwa quickly interjected.
“Well if we were all rich like Seonghwa, we would have gotten you something good too, Hongjoong-hyung,” Mingi said.
Seonghwa leaned over and smacked Mingi on the arm. “You make more than me, Mr. Songwriter!”
“I don't know why you're hitting me! Hongjoong-hyung makes the most here!” Mingi pointed at Hongjoong, his comment arousing laughter from everyone.
Once again, Seonghwa hit Mingi. “Speak formally to me!”
“You know,” Hongjoong snatched the coupon book from Mingi, “I think after that, I’m gonna go ahead and cash in on one of these.” He started to flip through the pages.
“Oh no,” Mingi hung his head.
“And that is why everyone should have gotten him candy like me!” Yeosang said.
“I share a room with you! I know good and well that all that candy is just leftover candy that you didn’t want!” Wooyoung shouted.
“Ohhh!” Jongho exclaimed, clapping his hands. “My failed friendship bracelet is suddenly looking better!”
Yeosang’s jaw dropped and he sputtered to Wooyoung, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Somehow oblivious to all of the loud chaos, Hongjoong managed to find the coupon he wanted and ripped it out so he could show everyone. He cleared his throat: “Ahem, I believe this says ‘Mingi will clean up after dinner one day.’”
From his seat next to Mingi, Yunho clapped Mingi on the back. “Oh man, that’s awfully sweet of you!”
Mingi waved his hands. “Oh, no, those are not valid today. They do not go into effect until tomorrow.”
“Oh, you’re a funny guy, Mingi-yah,” Hongjoong stood up from the couch and stretched. “I’m sure some of the others will help you.”
Mingi looked around at his fellow ’99 liners and they all seemed to avoiding eye contact with him.
Having kept careful track of the nail polish set the entire time it was in San’s hands (fearful that the rowdy younger boys would somehow end up breaking it), Seonghwa felt relief when San finally set it down onto the table next to all of the other gifts. While the younger boys tried to figure out who exactly was going to be doing the cleaning, Seonghwa helped Hongjoong carry all of his gifts to their room.
Their room already too cluttered, Seonghwa pushed some of his Gundam figurines to the side of his desk to help make room for the presents that wouldn’t fit on Hongjoong’s own desk.
“Seonghwa-sshi, since you were kind enough to get me new polish, I was hoping you’d do me the honors,” he said.
Confused on what he meant, Seonghwa looked over at him to see him rummaging through his desk to pull out a container of nail polish remover. He immediately connected the dots. “Oh Hongjoong-ah, you don’t have to do that now. That’s very thoughtful of you though.”
“No, but I want to.” Hongjoong took off the lid and grabbed a napkin. “I’m tired of black.”
“Well, it is your birthday,” he conceded. He sat down in his desk chair and started unpackaging the polish set for him.
Hongjoong dipped the napkin just barely into the solution and began wiping at his pinky. “Pick the color for me.”
Seonghwa was already admiring the colors when he said it. “What? No, it’s your present and your pinky.”
“And since it’s my present and my pinky what I say goes. And I want you to pick it.” He had finished taking off the polish and held his pinky up to the light to examine his work.
“Um,” he uttered. Hell, he didn’t know. He had four options. Obviously, all of them were going to look good on Hongjoong. Everything always looked good on Hongjoong. Whatever Seonghwa could never pull off, like overalls, berets, or vests, somehow Hongjoong always pulled them off in a way that seemed like he was only ever meant to wear that one thing and nothing else.
“It’s not a life or death decision,” Hongjoong joked and walked over to hover behind him. “I don’t care either way.”
“Well, I got it because you like blue, so I guess blue?” Seonghwa turned his head to look up at him for approval.
In all fairness, he did genuinely seem like didn’t care either way. “Fair. Light or dark though?” he pointed at the bottles in Seonghwa’s hand.
Seonghwa squinted his eyes and thought long and hard with a “hmmm.”
“Ugh, Seonghwa-yah! You’d think you were choosing your casket!” Hongjoong groaned.
Hongjoong slipped up the name ending, whether on purpose or on accident, and it ended up making Seonghwa’s dilemma worse because his mind went momentarily blank. The first thoughts to repopulate his mind were nothing surprising. Just the thoughts that had been occupying his mind for the past few weeks.
Hongjoong was pretty.
He was wearing a white, turtleneck, cable-knit sweater with several silver chains. His hair was starting to get shaggier at the nape of his neck which left Seonghwa wondering when the hair noonas were going to cut it, but also wishing that they wouldn’t. He was only wearing light foundation today and Seonghwa preferred it that way as it only gave him more time to see Hongjoong’s natural, pretty face for what it was.
His mind flashed back Hongjoong’s genuine smile as he unwrapped Seonghwa’s present - a reaction that had made Seonghwa’s chest swell in the same way it swelled when he rode on an airplane. The feeling of anticipation, your body leaving the ground, and eventually, only seeing the endless blue sky beneath you…
“Light blue,” Seonghwa said.
Like as if he’d been thinking it the whole time.
“Really?” Hongjoong scrunched up his nose. “Huh. I thought you would’ve chosen dark.”
Seonghwa was horrified as Hongjoong took the light blue bottle from him. “I mean, if you want dark, by all means, I was just throwing something out there, but it’s totally up to you.”
Hongjoong grabbed his chair and dragged it across the floor so it sat right next to Seonghwa’s. “No, you misunderstand, I would’ve chosen that color too. It’s pretty. It just didn’t seem like your style.”
“Well, it’s going on your finger, isn’t it?” he replied.
As Hongjoong unscrewed the bottle, he gave him a side smirk. “You’re right. It is.”
That airplane feeling returned to Seonghwa’s chest as he watched with pride as Hongjoong laid his left hand out on the desk and proceeded to put his color choice on his pinky. He was almost in awe at how steady Hongjoong’s hand was as the brush glided across his small pinky nail. Seonghwa would probably end up accidentally painting his whole finger if he tried that.
“You should let me paint yours too,” Hongjoong said while still concentrating on his own finger.
He shook his head. “Ohhh no, nope.” Like how overalls made him look like a gangly, overgrown plant, he would look equally as ridiculous with nail polish on.
“Why not?” Hongjoong had finished with his nail and was looking at Seonghwa.
“I’d look silly.” He looked down as he fumbled with his hands. Unlike Hongjoong’s cute, small hands, his were long and clumsy.
“No you wouldn’t. It’s just a finger. I’ll even do it for you.” He waved his left hand in the air to help dry his pinky. “Pick a color.”
Seonghwa let out a soft “ehhhh” as he hesitated and looked back at the other polish colors.
“How about grey? That seems like your style. It also wouldn’t be too noticeable,” Hongjoong offered.
“I don’t know…”
“Please! Come on, it’s my birthday!”
A terrible, selfish thought came into Seonghwa’s head. One that he really couldn’t stop from forming even though it made him guilty. One that unfortunately, his mouth couldn’t stop from saying.
“How about the same color?” Seonghwa pointed towards the light blue bottle.
The terrible, selfish thought that he wanted to match with Hongjoong.
Coincidences had happened in the past where they ended up matching clothes in some sort of way: colors, patterns, belts, etc. Seonghwa always liked to point it out when he noticed, knowing that Hongjoong would tease him about it and pretend to be appalled by the idea of them wearing “couple outfits.” But for some reason, Seonghwa really was never appalled when they ended up matching. In fact, it gave him some sort of pride knowing that him and brilliant Hongjoong were on such the same mental wavelength that they would unintentionally match.
And right then, there was an opportunity to intentionally match. And well, very selfishly, Seonghwa wanted it.
“That’s fine, we can match,” Hongjoong grinned, grabbing the bottle once again.
“Wait, really?”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
Seonghwa smiled inwardly and put his left hand on the desk, but then retracted it and said, “Oh wait, I don’t know if I trust you.”
“You’re right, one false slip on the hand and you may lose that finger,” Hongjoong quipped.
He scowled but laid his hand back down.
Hongjoong carefully bobbed the brush in the bottle and thinned out the paint on the rim. Once his hand began to travel towards Seonghwa’s, Seonghwa couldn’t help but notice how much it was strangely shaking, a sharp contrast from his steady hand earlier.
Hongjoong noticed the shaking too and paused before he started painting. “Sorry, I’ve never painted anyone else’s hand before.” His face was flushed and he was concentrating hard on controlling his hand…and was Hongjoong nervous?
“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not a surgeon,” Seonghwa joked, trying to break the nervous tension that had come into the air.
He gave a weak laugh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Hongjoong’s hand wasn’t shaking as much as before, but it still had an infrequent tremor when he started painting Seonghwa’s nail. Hongjoong was leaned forward in his seat and he had steadied himself on the desk with his left elbow while his right hand did the painting. As he painted, none of his fingers managed to touch Seonghwa’s hand. He seemed to be painting even more slowly and carefully than when he did his own.
“You have nice nails,” Hongjoong said while he worked.
“Oh, thank you,” he murmured.
With Hongjoong’s attention so trained on Seonghwa’s hand, that meant Seonghwa could take the opportunity to watch his face as he worked.
Even despite the ugly lighting of the room bouncing off the wood paneling of their furniture and dank, cream colored walls, Hongjoong seemed perfectly, almost professionally, lit. At photoshoots, the lighting team and photographers normally spend an uncomfortable amount of time fixing the lights, reflector boards, and shades, all in the goal of getting you looking as good as possible. Lighting can make a difference, especially if you have a weird, angular face like Seonghwa.
Not Hongjoong though. His face was soft. No harsh angles. Smooth from cheek to chin. It made him always look pretty, no matter how horrible the lighting was. Even in an ugly, interior-design-disaster of a dorm room.
“Okay, I’m done, what do you think?”
Seonghwa jumped in surprise. But what he was startled at wasn’t hearing Hongjoong’s voice interrupt his thoughts. No, it was feeling Hongjoong’s breath on his pinky.
Hongjoong quickly retracted back. “Sorry! I was trying to dry it faster, but you can probably do that yourself, can’t you?” He awkwardly chuckled at himself as he put up the polish.
Seonghwa blinked and then looked down at his left hand. Even with a shaky hand, Hongjoong had made Seonghwa’s nail look just as perfect as his.
“Well?” Hongjoong was looking expectantly at him.
It definitely didn’t Seonghwa’s monotone, classic style. In his own vanity, he began wondering how he was going to match it with all of clothes. But yet, he loved it. How could he not? Every time he’d look at it, it’d remind him of Hongjoong.
“We match,” Seonghwa said, still looking at his pinky.
Hongjoong’s own left hand came into Seonghwa’s view, and Hongjoong tilted his hand so that the tips of their pinkies touched. “We match,” Hongjoong repeated.
Seonghwa looked up at him and they both smiled at each other.
“Thank you very much for the gift, Seonghwa-yah. I’m glad we could share it,” he continued.
That honorific ending. That one was definitely on purpose. Even on Hongjoong’s own birthday, he couldn’t help but give Seonghwa a gift too.
When they went back out to the main room to rejoin the others and held up their matching pinkies, the boys all gave a collective “awh.”
Over the next few days, Seonghwa kept finding himself absentmindedly glancing down at his left pinky. He fretted over it when it inevitably chipped and couldn’t bear to look at the imperfection in Hongjoong’s work, so he ended up scraping the rest off.
*
His scalp burned and, looking at his freshly fried hair in the mirror, he didn’t know if it was worth it or not.
“Hyung, I cannot say I did not warn you,” Wooyoung came up behind him and grinned, satisfied with himself.
The members were all in the salon with the hair noonas working on their new looks for the upcoming comeback. Seonghwa stood in front of a floor length mirror having a partial emotional breakdown over his crisp new bleach-orange hair.
“She said I’ll probably need two more treatments,” Seonghwa whined and gently patted his head. He winced at himself in the mirror.
Wooyoung snorted. “At least.”
“At least?!” he whipped his head around too look at him with panicked eyes.
Yeosang, sitting to the side in his salon chair, decided it was time to pipe in. “Will you stop freaking him out?” he said to Wooyoung. Then to Seonghwa: “It’ll be fine. The orange is just temporary.”
“I don’t care about the color! What about my head?! I’ll be bald by the end of it!” Seonghwa held up some strands of his hair for emphasis.
They were interrupted by some loud “oohs” and “ahhs” at the other end of the salon.
Just as the three began to look at each other in confusion, San called over to them: “You guys have to come look at Hongjoong-hyung!”
Then came Mingi’s loud voice, carrying easily over the room, “Wow, Hongjoong-hyung’s a cool guy!”
“Hey, I wanna see!” Wooyoung went running over to the growing crowd.
While Yeosang had to stay put for his own hair noona, Seonghwa pulled his hoodie over his head in shame and followed Wooyoung over to Hongjoong’s chair.
He couldn’t immediately see Hongjoong due to Mingi, Yunho, San, Jongho, Wooyoung, and Hongjoong’s hair noona crowding around him. He could hear the click of a camera and he assumed the hair noona was taking pictures of Hongjoong’s hairstyle for their concept records that they keep of all the members.
“Will you all take like one step back so Noona can work? Thanks,” Hongjoong chuckled.
When the five boys finally spread apart, Seonghwa could see Hongjoong standing up next to his salon chair as his noona took his picture.
Hongjoong had a mullet. And yeah, he had a mullet before. But like, now he had a long, smooth mullet. The kind you only saw rock stars with. Fittingly, San said in awe, “Hyung looks like a rock star!”
“I think he looks like a horse!” Wooyoung announced, inciting a laugh from Jongho.
Seonghwa shifted towards Wooyoung so he could grab onto his shoulder. “Hey, don’t be rude,” Seonghwa said closely to his ear.
He chuckled nervously and maneuvered his shoulder away from Seonghwa’s hand. “It was a joke! Obviously, I think he looks like a sex god.”
Hongjoong’s noona had finished taking the photos and was walking away when Hongjoong turned towards Wooyoung to glare at him. “Oh, yeah I’m sure.”
San moved towards Hongjoong with an outstretched hand. “Can I touch - ?”
Hongjoong quickly swatted his hand away. “Stop! Disperse children! She’ll be back to take out the extensions anyways.”
“Awhhh,” San pouted.
Bored now, the group started to disperse with lingering phrases from Yunho and Mingi like “I wish I could have a mullet” and “He did kinda look like a horse, didn’t he?”
Seonghwa began to walk away, but paused when he heard Hongjoong say: “Seonghwa-sshi, do you like it?”
Hongjoong raised his eyebrows and turned around to show off the extensions.
To get a better look, Seonghwa walked closer to him.
And, of course Seonghwa liked his new hair. Everything always looked good on Hongjoong. The extensions were pretty, he was pretty, and like San, he had a very big temptation to run his fingers through Hongjoong’s hair to see what it felt like - if it was as smooth as it looked.
Hongjoong turned back around and looked up at him. “Well?”
“I think that you’ve just proven you can literally pull off anything,” he said. And oddly enough, he wasn’t jealous at all of Hongjoong. Sure, Seonghwa always wanted to have that ability to be able to wear anything and look amazing regardless, but he enjoyed looking at Hongjoong too much to be envious of him. Looking at Hongjoong was looking at a nice painting in an art museum. You weren’t jealous that you couldn’t paint like that, you just sat there and admired in awe that there was someone out there who could.
“I don’t look silly?”
“No, not at all. You look really…” Seonghwa had to stop himself from saying the one word that always seemed to pop into his head when he was around Hongjoong. “Cool,” he finished lamely, because he couldn’t think of any other words besides “pretty.”
“Ha, yeah, you hesitated there,” he pointed at him with a smirk. If only Hongjoong knew what word he had really wanted to say.
Hongjoong then gestured up to Seonghwa’s hoodie. “Come on, lemme see yours! It’s your first time getting real bleach!”
He panicked and reached up to play with his hoodie strings. “Nooo, it’s not finished yet.”
“Well obviously I’m gonna see it eventually, you know, since you sleep two feet above me,” he joked.
“It’s orange,” Seonghwa warned.
“I’d imagine so, that’s how it works.”
He sighed, probably a bit too loudly, and pulled back his hoodie. “My hair feels dead,” he mumbled shyly and looked down at the ground.
He felt Hongjoong’s hand on his head, his fingers threading through his hair. “Nope. Looks and feels good to me.”
Seonghwa glanced back up at him through his eyelashes. “Yeah, whatever.”
Hongjoong took his hand away from his head, but instead used it to take Seonghwa’s wrist and pull it towards the nape of Hongjoong’s neck. “Here, feel. San would’ve been disappointed,” he said.
“Huh?” he grunted, confused.
Hongjoong let go of Seonghwa’s wrist and Seonghwa stroked his extensions. There weren’t particularly rough…but they definitely weren’t as smooth as they looked. It felt like doll hair.
“Ahhh, yeah, I thought that was gonna be softer,” Seonghwa chuckled and pulled his hand back.
“Yeah, me too. It tickles my neck.” He lifted the hair up from neck and laid it back down.
Seonghwa grimaced. “Beauty is pain I guess.”
“I think you’ll look really good with blonde hair,” he nodded at him.
“Really?”
Hongjoong’s hair noona reappeared and started walking back over. Hongjoong glanced over at her and then back at Seonghwa. “Of course,” he said. “You’re Seonghwa.”
And then he walked back over to his chair and Seonghwa decided that maybe he’d keep the hoodie off the rest of the day.
*
There wasn’t much of a turnaround between their debut and their first comeback, which led to a rushed Christmas holiday break.
With becoming an idol came accepting the fact that you would soon become a stranger to your own family back home. Which for the others was sometimes hard. For Seonghwa though, it was never something he struggled too much with. He was a good student in school, but he always was more interested in the arts. He did theater, chorus, and was the head of the dance club. His father had originally wanted him to do extracurriculars that were more “masculine.” Like baseball or taekwondo. But his father soon grew more accepting of his choices…until he expressed his desire to audition for idol companies instead of furthering his schooling. There were definitely arguments, some choice words said, and then Seonghwa was gone. Sure, they were all still on speaking terms…but that was if you counted small talk with your own mother and father “speaking terms.”
With all the preparation coming up for their comeback, and Seonghwa not particularly missing his family anyways, it wasn’t a difficult decision for him to stay put and not make the long trip back home just for some awkward family small talk.
With San, Wooyoung, and Yeosang being such a tight trio, and with San and Yeosang’s families all hours away, it was natural that they all packed up and went to Wooyoung’s family in the city. Mingi did the exact same with Yunho’s family in town. Jongho’s family also lived in Seoul, and despite his hard exterior, he probably missed his family the most out of all of them, so he also got his time to spend with his family.
Before they had all left, they’d all given Seonghwa open invitations to come. He knew that it wasn’t just merely out of pity, but he figured he wouldn’t replace cringey small talk with his family with more cringey small talk with someone else’s family. Plus he had point dances in their comeback he wanted to perfect in the meantime. It was the perfect arrangement for everyone.
So that just left Hongjoong and Seonghwa in the dorms on Christmas Eve morning. Since Hongjoong’s mother also lived in the city, Seonghwa fully expected himself to be alone. So the fact that he wasn’t left him confused.
“Merry Christmas Eve, Seonghwa-sshi,” Hongjoong sounded cheery as he made his way into the kitchen as Seonghwa made some eggs for breakfast.
“Merry Christmas Eve, Hongjoong-ah.”
Seonghwa felt a presence by his side without looking up from the skillet. “Mm, that smells good.”
“Mhm, I’m making enough for the two of us.”
“Oh, that’s nice of you, thank you. I’ll set the table for us.”
The warm presence by his side disappeared and he heard cabinets being opened and dishes being sorted through.
“What are you going to do today?” Hongjoong asked.
The eggs were done so Seonghwa turned off the stove and moved the skillet full of eggs and chopped vegetables over to the counter. “I should be asking you that question.”
“Oh?”
Seongwha walked over to the refrigerator. On his way there, he looked pointedly at Hongjoong as he placed plates on the table. “Your family? It’s Christmas Eve and you’re still here?” There was a brief silence while Seonghwa opened the refrigerator and took out a tomato.
“Oh,” Seonghwa heard before he shut the refrigerator door. “I’ll probably swing by either today or tomorrow. I have some work to get done, so we’ll see,” Hongjoong said.
“Oh really? What work?” Seonghwa walked back over to the counter and began slicing the tomato.
“Well, me and you were going to run over some choreography.”
“I have the guide videos and a dance studio with mirrors. I think I can manage.”
Seonghwa heard the refrigerator door open as Hongjoong probably started taking out some juice for them.
“Okay, well we’re going to be doing more international promotions. I need to study up on my English.”
“Which you can do on the train on the way to your mother’s house.”
The presence was back by his side. “‘Hwa, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, I just think you should go spend time with your family.” He finished cutting the tomato before he looked over at Hongjoong.
Hongjoong’s hand rested on counter allowing him to lean against it. He had his glasses on and black oversized sweats. And he looked…confused? “I am spending time with my family,” he said.
Seonghwa’s chest twisted and he found himself not quite knowing how to reply to that. So instead he turned and started gathering up the ingredients he had made. He grabbed the skillet of eggs and the plate of toast he had made earlier, while Hongjoong grabbed the sliced tomatoes.
As Seonghwa set the food down at the table he finally said: “You see me all the time, you know. And I’m sure your mother misses you.”
“I’m not leaving you here alone on Christmas.” Hongjoong’s voice was firm.
The two both sat down next to each other at the table.
“I had every opportunity to make plans with people and I didn’t. I fully expected to be alone. Which is fine, I promise. I’ll live. I’m a grown man.”
Hongjoong opened his mouth to argue and Seonghwa quickly continued: “Hey, you haven’t given me my Christmas present yet. Why don’t you return whatever you got me and instead give me this for Christmas: go home today and see your family. Stay the night and spend some time with them. Okay?”
“If you make me go I’m taking you with me,” he said.
Seonghwa shook his head. “Nope. You’ve worked hard. You deserve alone time with your mother. Conversation over, now eat your egg sandwich I so graciously made you.”
He huffed and grabbed a slice of toast. “When did you become so stubborn?”
“Me?” His eyes widened and he leaned closer to Hongjoong. “I’m the stubborn one?”
Hongjoong glanced over at him and snorted in amusement. “Oh, shut up and eat your egg sandwich you so graciously made me.”
He felt pride that he had won that battle…until an hour later when he saw Hongjoong at the front door with a backpack slung on his shoulder. And then he couldn’t help but think what the fuck had he done sending away his only family on Christmas Eve.
“I’ll be back tomorrow around dinner, alright? We’ll open presents then,” Hongjoong said.
Seonghwa nodded. “Sounds good.”
“You sure you don’t want to come?” He looked ridiculously adorable all bundled up in a beanie, big coat, and scarf which made everything so much harder.
“Yes, I’m sure. I’ll be fine.”
“You sure you’re alright staying here alone on Christmas?”
“Yes, once again, I’m sure. I’ll be fine. Have a safe train ride. Goodbye, Joongie.” He leaned around Hongjoong and opened the door for him.
“Text or call if you need me. Promise.” Hongjoong pointed a finger at him.
“I promise.” They both stared long and hard at each other.
Despite everything, he still looked hesitant. “Okay…well then I’ll be off. Merry Christmas and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Merry Christmas.” Seonghwa waved as Hongjoong walked backwards out of the dorm and waved back.
He closed the door and tried not to think about how silent or how big the room he stood in had become. Or about how much of an idiot he was for intentionally being alone on Christmas Eve.
*
Seonghwa didn’t realize there were sad Christmas songs until he intentionally searched for them later that night. He had successfully kept himself busy most of the day, but now it was just after dinnertime and he had run out of things to do. So he was sitting on the couch in the main room, listening to some Christmas English hymn that was slow and sad-sounding (since obviously he couldn’t really understand what they were singing) and feeling just completely awful about himself.
Should he have gone with any of the other boys? In retrospect, probably. His social anxiety would’ve been at a danger level, but it would’ve been worth it to have some sort of human interaction, so he wasn’t stuck sitting in a gloomy, sparsely decorated dorm alone with bleak, dreary, Grinch-like thoughts.
He thought about how Christmas the next morning was going to go. Waking up alone, eating breakfast alone, celebrating alone. Maybe he’d even give himself a present since he was the only family he had now.
He thought about how everyone would come back after Christmas with all of these fun, happy stories and like always, he would be the lame one out. Normally he could blame being the lame one out on him being older and more mature than the others. But this situation was totally his doing alone. He created his own misery.
He was just about to squeeze out his first (or fiftieth tear) when he heard the door handle jiggle. Terrified, he jumped in shock and hurried to shut off the downer Christmas carols. Who could it be? A manager feeling pity for him? Maybe by some sort of Christmas miracle one or more of the boys back early to save him from himself? He wiped underneath his eyes and suddenly realized how much of a freak he was going to look like just sitting on the couch all alone staring at the door.
He stood from the couch just as the door opened and a very chilly looking, utterly gorgeous looking Hongjoong stepped inside.
Gorgeous.
That was a new word for Hongjoong.
But god, if that word would ever mean anything, it meant everything about Hongjoong in that moment. His nose was pink from the bitter cold outside and his bangs stuck out in disarray from underneath the beanie. But his eyes were as wide as ever as he looked at Seonghwa. “Oh, hello,” he said in the doorway, taken aback. “I’m going to hope you weren’t waiting here for me the entire time.” And he smiled really big and it was gorgeous. And in that moment Seonghwa didn’t give a shit if it was weird thinking Hongjoong was not only was pretty but also gorgeous because he was so thankful to see him.
“You came back,” he said.
Hongjoong finally entered the dorm and closed the door behind him. “Nah, I just...forgot my favorite toothbrush.”
“Oh well, go grab it so you can make it back by tonight,” he gestured back to their room.
He shook his head and readjusted his backpack on his shoulder. “I think I’ll hang around here instead, if that’s alright with you.”
“What about your mother?”
“Oh she’s fine, I’ll probably visit her again soon. She doesn’t live too far anyways.”
Seonghwa nodded and the room grew silent as they both looked at each other from where they stood.
“So what have you been up to?” / “Do you want me to make you some tea?”
Hongjoong and Seonghwa both spoke at once. They paused, looked at each other, and laughed it off.
“Sorry, you go ahead,” Hongjoong conceded.
“You look cold, did you want me to make you some tea, or some coffee or something?” Seonghwa was already walking over to the kitchen before he could answer.
“Um, sure I guess some tea would be great.” He heard Hongjoong’s backpack hit the floor and then the couch sink as Hongjoong sat down.
He turned on the stove. “Are you hungry? Manager Lee got me some chocolate bread earlier.”
“Uh, no, that’s fine, thank you though. I had some food on the train.”
“Mm,” Seonghwa replied and grabbed the kettle and some tea bags from the shelf.
“What did you do today?” Hongjoong asked.
“Let’s see,” he filled the kettle with water. “I went to the company, practiced my point choreography, did some workouts.” He put the kettle on the stove and turned to look at Hongjoong on the couch. “And then I came back here and cleaned up some of the boys’ rooms since they’re away and everything.”
His eyebrows raised. “Oh really? Wow, you really can’t stop cleaning, can you?”
“Well, I didn’t have much else to do,” he admitted.
“I’m curious, whose was the worst?” Hongjoong grinned at him.
“You mean besides yours?” Seonghwa tilted his head.
“Hey now,” he pointed at him, “you’re the one in charge of that. So you have no one else to blame but yourself.”
He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Well, anyways, it would seem that Mingi and Jongho are the messiest, probably not shocking you very much.”
Hongjoong let out a sharp laugh at that. “Nope, unfortunately it doesn’t.”
“I found a lot of food remnants? And dirty clothes…Do they know how to use a washer?”
“Oh god, please don’t tell me you washed their clothes.”
Seonghwa pursed his lips together and looked away in guilt.
“Seonghwa-sshi, you have to stop babying them! They’re grown men.”
“Okay, well I ran out of stuff to clean,” he said just before the kettle started whistling. He took the kettle off the stove and turned it off.
He heard Hongjoong sigh. “I guess I’ll have to talk to them when they get back to the dorms.”
Seonghwa turned quick on his heel with the kettle still in hand. “No, please don’t. They’ll only just come complaining to me about you.”
“Who’s complaining about me?” Hongjoong’s eyebrows were furrowed together.
He blinked slowly. “I didn’t say anything.” Just as quickly, he turned back around and started pouring the hot water into two mugs for them.
“Mhm, you better be lucky it’s Christmas Eve.”
Seonghwa laughed under his breath and brought the completed teas out from the kitchen. He gave Hongjoong one and sat next to him on the couch.
“Thank you,” Hongjoong murmured as he clutched the mug up to his face. By that point he had unraveled his scarf to the point that it just barely hung onto his shoulders.
“You’re welcome,” he nodded. “So, did you have fun with your family?”
Hongjoong noticeably swallowed before biting his lip and looking away from him. “Yeah, it was fine. It was good to see everyone.”
Seonghwa wouldn’t have had to know him super well to know that it didn’t go “fine” based on how he was acting. Hongjoong had never been good at keeping his facial expressions neutral. “Was your brother there?”
“Yeah, uh, he was,” he tapped his fingernails on the mug and then turned his head back towards Seonghwa. “And yeah, so was my dad.”
Simply put, Seonghwa was shocked. Sure, he was shocked at the fact that Hongjoong’s estranged father had popped up after years and years of being god knows where, but he was equally as shocked at how little he had to prod at Hongjoong to get him to admit that fact – he wasn’t the most open person. But, Seonghwa tried to keep the more selfish thoughts at bay (the ones that took pride in Hongjoong feeling comfortable enough around him to open up so easily). “Oh, Hongjoong-ah, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he shook his head blinked furiously. “I didn’t do some fantastic, next-level friendship thing and come back to the dorms just for you. I came back because my dad’s an asshole. And my mother had invited him over so he could spend time with my brother because he’s back from enlistment, and instead of focusing on him, he focused all his attention on me. But you know, he’s as good as dead to me. And I told him that too.”
When Seonghwa saw his lip quiver he ditched his mug on the floor in a heartbeat, moving over on the couch so he could wrap both his arms around him. “Shh, it’s okay.”
“Ugh,” Hongjoong looked up to try and keep tears from forming, but they were already there on the brim of his eyelashes, sparkling against the ceiling light and threatening to fall. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t come all the way back here to bum you out even more on Christmas Eve.”
Seonghwa leaned Hongjoong’s body against his. “It’s alright,” his hand moved to the top of Hongjoong’s head.
“He just…” he paused to let out a breathy, incredulous laugh. “He pushed me around so much as a kid…and he honestly thought he could come back and keep pushing me around. But I’m not a kid anymore and I don’t have to take it. And so I left.”
Hongjoong took a big, shaky breath before exhaling with a choked sob. “But my poor mother…oh gosh, I’m sorry.” He covered his eyes with one of his hands and Seonghwa took the opportunity to take his mug away from him and put it on the floor next to his.
With him leaning away to move the mugs, Hongjoong bent himself over, with his hands cradling his head in his lap. Seonghwa sat back up and started rubbing small circles on Hongjoong’s upper back. “Shhh,” he whispered.
“I’m ruining your Christmas Eve,” Hongjoong’s voice sounded muffled - a combination caused by snot and his own hands covering his mouth.
“Sh, no you’re not.” And he really wasn’t. Hongjoong probably didn’t want to know how much Seonghwa was enjoying this. Not the family trauma part, of course. Just being able to be there for him. Help him. Spend time with him. Realization dawned on Seonghwa. “I should’ve gone with you,” he said.
“No,” Hongjoong said immediately and sat upright. He used his scarf to keep his nose and mouth covered. “I would have never let you hear the things he said.”
Seonghwa kept his hand on Hongjoong’s back. “I told you about my dad and his opinion on idols and the industry. I’m used to it.”
“No, me and you are very different,” he said firmly. “You’ve probably never heard that sort of stuff before.”
Taken aback, Seonghwa racked his brain trying to imagine what things Hongjoong’s father had said to him. “What sort of stuff was he saying to you?” he said gently.
“I don’t…ugh, it’s not worth repeating. Especially not on Christmas. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” he nodded.
Hongjoong dropped his scarf so he could roughly wipe at his wet face. “Can we watch a movie or something? A Christmas movie.”
“Sure.”
Eying Hongjoong carefully, Seonghwa got up to turn on the TV. Hongjoong took off his scarf and outer coat and tossed them on the floor next to his backpack. He was wearing a black, turtleneck shirt underneath a deep red, plain sweater. He combed at the bangs that stuck out underneath his beanie.
Seonghwa thought back to when he first saw Hongjoong really cry after that fan meeting, when he had wanted to see Hongjoong cry again so he could get to him faster and comfort him better. And looking at Hongjoong now, looking at how his inward emotions spilled outward, at how much smaller he looked than normal, at how it was unclear if his nose was still red from the winter night or from the fresh tears…he couldn’t believe he had thought of something so awful.
Seonghwa had finally found a moment in which Hongjoong did not look pretty. No one in that much despair could look pretty.
But yet.
When he sat down next to him again on the couch, and Hongjoong laid his head on his shoulder, almost immediately falling asleep, and at the end of the movie Seonghwa woke him up slowly and helped usher him and his discarded belongings to their bedroom, and he tucked him into the bottom bunk with all of his clothes still on, and in the dim light of the room he could see Hongjoong sleeping peacefully with no despair left on his face…That. That moment was pretty. He was pretty. And gorgeous. And perfect. And Seonghwa would do anything for him in that moment. Because Hongjoong was his family. And he no longer wanted to see him cry.
*
Seonghwa was the first to wake, which didn’t surprise him. Hongjoong had taken two long train rides, dealt with an estranged family member, and then gotten stuck spending his Christmas holiday alone with Seonghwa. He deserved the extra sleep.
Before Hongjoong woke up, Seonghwa had time to shower, make breakfast, and start preparations for the holiday meal he was making Hongjoong. Faced with another gift dilemma, Seonghwa figured he would just cook all the members a big, special meal after the holidays. With Hongjoong actually being back at the dorms, it made sense to cook him his own meal. It would make for a more special present anyways.
When he heard Hongjoong’s small footsteps he dropped everything he was doing and rushed out of the kitchen before Hongjoong could see anything.
“Merry Christmas, Hongjoong-ah!” Seonghwa held his arms up and beamed at a fully dressed Hongjoong.
He was wearing dark jeans, a dark green shirt, and a grey knit blazer. He wasn’t wearing a hat and instead he had spent time curling his bangs. “Merry Christmas, ‘Hwa!” Hongjoong laughed and then pointed at Seonghwa. “Wow, look at you!”
Seonghwa looked down and he had forgotten that he was wearing an apron. “Gah,” he immediately started to tear it off himself. “By the way, I have to grab your breakfast for you because your present is in there and I don’t want it spoiled.”
He shook his head and smiled. “Please don’t tell me that you went to a lot of trouble for me.”
“Only if you’ll tell me that you didn’t go to a lot of trouble for my gift,” Seonghwa countered with raised eyebrows.
“…Okay, it’s a draw. Grab me some fruit or some cereal for breakfast. I’ll save my appetite for later.”
“Good, ‘cause you’ll need it,” he replied. He went back into the kitchen and finished up what he had been working on earlier before grabbing Hongjoong a bowl of cereal and milk. Seonghwa sat with him on the couch while he ate.
“So what are we going to do today?” Hongjoong said between mouthfuls.
“It snowed earlier this morning.”
Hongjoong and Seonghwa both smirked at each other.
*
A big snowball came flying and hit Hongjoong square in the back as he was bent over scooping up snow. He whipped around and pointed at Seonghwa. “Hey, that’s not fair! You have bigger hands than me!”
Seonghwa laughed. “Okay, but smaller snowballs fly through the air faster!”
“But you won’t even give me a chance to make one!” Hongjoong shouted before chasing after him.
They both giggled as they ran through the couple inches of snow that made it to the ground earlier that morning. They had walked the couple blocks to the nearest park. Since it was Christmas morning, the park was empty, probably due to children being too busy playing with their new toys to take advantage of the fresh snowfall.
Somehow, a snowball made it to the back of Seonghwa’s head, knocking him forward a bit as he ran. “What the hell?!” He stopped in his tracks and felt the back of his beanie with his thick glove. Sure enough, when he pulled his glove back it was covered with snow.
He looked back at Hongjoong to see him sheepishly smiling at him.
“How the hell did you manage that?” he laughed.
“I scooped up some snow while we were running,” Hongjoong shrugged.
“Oh you’re gonna get it now!” The roles reversed as Seonghwa became the one chasing Hongjoong around the park.
After a couple of minutes of Hongjoong nimbly dodging and outrunning Seonghwa, he stopped and put his hands up in the hair. Panting heavily, he still somehow was managing to giggle. “Alright alright, I surrender. I’m exhausted now.” And to further punctuate that he fell backwards into a cushier pile of snow.
Seonghwa was grateful for Hongjoong’s surrender because he figured he was in even worse shape by the way his lungs burned as he inhaled the crisp air. He shuffled over to Hongjoong and laid down next to him in the snow.
They both wheezed and struggled to normalize their breathing for a few minutes. Hongjoong was the first person to turn over and look at the other person. Seonghwa had thought he had finally gotten his breathing under control until Hongjoong looked down at him and Seonghwa stopped breathing again.
His face looked pale and smooth against the grey sky and white snow around them. Except, his nose and cheeks were flushed pink from their goofing around. Since his breathing was still slightly labored, the white puffs of his exhales were clear in the air above them. His eyelashes looked longer than normal, with flecks of snow spotting them.
Seonghwa didn’t even want to blink because he would never see Hongjoong in that exact moment again. He wanted to take a picture - he wanted to memorize everything.
“That was fun, I needed that,” Hongjoong sighed with a faint smile.
The more Hongjoong lingered above him, the less Seonghwa could shake the feelings or the thoughts. He was just so pretty. He had to know how pretty he was, right? There was no way he couldn’t know. And not just handsome. No, Seonghwa wanted to make sure that Hongjoong knew just how pretty he was. Gorgeous even. Just fucking perfect. So pretty that instead of making him feel insecure like other attractive guys, Hongjoong made Seonghwa feel…afraid.
But not in a scary sort of way. Not in the, “I’m on in a creepy alley/there’s a monster underneath my bed/I’m probably going to fail this test,” sort of way. It’s more of the: “I’m in a rollercoaster climbing up a hill and I know what’s coming next and I’m super fucking terrified, but super fucking excited,” sort of way. And Seonghwa didn’t know what that meant exactly. He hadn’t really been afraid of anyone like that before. But then again, he hadn’t really admired anyone as much as Hongjoong before. This was probably what it felt like for everyone who idolized someone as much as he idolized Hongjoong. Just like a roller coaster.
But Seonghwa figured that after everything with Hongjoong’s father last night, Hongjoong deserved to know that someone admired him and thought of him in that way. Which, cringe-worthy enough, led to him saying in a single breath: “Has anyone ever told you you’re pretty?”
Not missing a beat, he tutted under his breath and looked away. “Oh, cut it out.”
When he started to lean away in embarrassment, Seonghwa reached up and caught his shoulder. “No, I’m serious.”
Hongjoong scrunched up his nose. “You all tell me I’m cute and little all the time.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Seonghwa murmured.
There was a pause in the air. A slight breeze came and rustled Hongjoong’s bangs. Hongjoong’s eyes flittered across Seonghwa’s face.
Seonghwa was terrified. He swallowed before continuing. “You’re pretty, I just wanted you to know.”
“…Well,” Hongjoong replied slowly and carefully, “If I’m pretty, then you’re beautiful, and I just wanted you to know.”
Despite the frigid breeze and frozen snow, Seonghwa’s face grew warm. He hadn’t ever been called beautiful before by anyone, not even his mother. Handsome, good-looking, attractive, cute, sure. But beautiful? Just like pretty and gorgeous, that word was normally reserved for girls…right?
But for some reason he couldn’t give a shit. Hongjoong thought he was beautiful. Not just pretty or gorgeous. But beautiful.
Obviously content with how that conversation ended, Hongjoong flopped onto Seonghwa and nestled his head on Seonghwa’s chest. Instinctively, Seonghwa’s hand rose up to rest on Hongjoong’s head.
Lying there, Seonghwa started to think about who else Hongjoong might think was beautiful. Did he just go around slinging that word around to everybody? Because Seonghwa didn’t go around calling everyone pretty and gorgeous, and he should face it: Hongjoong was also beautiful too.
He had all these words in his brain designated specifically for Hongjoong. That terrified yet excited feeling was still there in his gut.
But then, he started to think about hypothetically using those words for other people - other members or girls he found attractive. How would it make him feel if he called Wooyoung pretty? Or if he called Irene from Red Velvet gorgeous? It felt incorrect, false, wrong, because those words were for Hongjoong.
And he became even more terrified.
*
Hongjoong sat at their kitchen table with a sleep mask over his eyes. After they had come inside completely tired out from playing in the snow, Hongjoong did some work on his Macbook in the main room and Seonghwa got to work finishing their Christmas meal.
“Okay, we’re almost there!” Seonghwa danced while carrying a dish over to the table. He had just finished ushering a blindfolded Hongjoong to the kitchen table.
“Dear lord, ‘Hwa, how much did you make? You were only cooking for two hours,” he said.
Seonghwa walked back and grabbed the last dish. “It was actually three, you slept for one of those hours.”
“Oh,” he chuckled at himself, “right.”
Seonghwa carefully set the last dish down on the table. “Alright, I think that’s everything you can -”
Hongjoong ripped the sleep mask off before letting Seonghwa finish. “Oh my god,” he drawled, finally getting to look at all the food.
“Hongjoong-ahhh, you’re so impatient,” he pouted and bounced on the balls of his feet.
“Well, I’m sorry! I’ve been smelling this stuff all day and fuck, is that Galbijjim?”
Seonghwa laughed because yes, it was Galbijjim and it was also Gujeolpan and Muguk and Mu Namul and other assorted sides. “Merry Christmas, it’s all my gift to you! Enjoy!” he waved his hands over the food for presentation.
As Seonghwa sat down next to Hongjoong, Hongjoong said, “Wow, I am never switching roommates. That’s for sure.”
He blushed and looked down at his lap. His hours of laboring in the kitchen were worth it.
“Oh, wait, before we eat it’s only fair that I get to see your gift reaction too. Hang on, lemme go grab it,” Hongjoong said before rushing off towards their bedroom.
This was the first gift-giving holiday that they were spending as genuine friends and not awkward roommates. So this was going to be the first true gift he was going to receive from Hongjoong. He hoped it wasn’t anything too expensive, especially since all he did for him was make him some food. (Food that the managers had honestly mostly provided anyways.)
Seonghwa would be content with some fried chicken vouchers or another one of the simple, but good-intentioned key rings Hongjoong had gotten him for his birthday back in April (back when they were still just awkward roommates).
Seonghwa turned to face Hongjoong once he returned with his hands behind his back.
“Okay, so I didn’t get to wrap my present because of my, well, laziness. But just imagine I intentionally didn’t wrap them because I know how much you hate messes.”
Seonghwa silently laughed and nodded his head. “Okay, sounds good.”
“Ta-da!” Hongjoong stuck out one of his hands and in it was a package of big, white stars. He saw that Seonghwa was squinting to see so Hongjoong walked over closer to him.
He bit his lip as he took the package from Hongjoong. “Is this what I think it is?” The package read: Super Stars! Glow in the Dark Kit
“I know how much the top bunk sucks, so I figured this might make it seem less like a jail sentence. You don’t have to use them if you don’t want to. You can always regift them to one of the younger boys,” Hongjoong said.
He shook his head and smiled as he examined the stars. “No, this…this is great. I actually used to have these in my room when I was younger, so it’d bring me some good memories having them again. Thank you very much, Joong-ah.”
“You’re very welcome. But wait! That’s just this year’s Christmas present.”
He looked up from his gift. “Wait, what?”
Hongjoong grinned and swayed back and forth on his feet. Seonghwa suddenly noticed that one of Hongjoong’s hands was still behind his back. “I also have another present to make up for all the shitty presents I’ve given you in the past, and anything else shitty I ever did to you. Which I believe was a lot.”
“No, Hongjoong-ah, you didn’t have to,” Seonghwa whined and set the stars down on the table.
“Shush! You are not allowed to complain about this gift alright? Just take it and know that it’s from me and all the other boys for all that you do for us.”
“O-okay,” he agreed. What the hell had Hongjoong gotten him?
He couldn’t help but lean forward in anticipation as Hongjoong revealed his other hand. As his hand opened up, the light caught it and immediately Seonghwa knew it was jewelry. “Kim Hongjoong!” he screeched standing up so quickly from his chair it almost fell over.
Hongjoong closed his hand again and took a step back. “Nuh uh uh, you promised you wouldn’t fuss about it!”
“What bank did you rob?!”
“You haven’t even seen it yet, how do you know it’s expensive?”
“Really?” Seonghwa deadpanned.
“Will you just take the gift already before I give it away to someone more appreciative?” Hongjoong laughed, shaking his closed fist.
“Okay, okay,” he said quickly and held out his hand.
Hongjoong didn’t open his hand until the bottom of his fist met Seonghwa’s palm. Unsurprisingly, Seonghwa felt something smooth drop into his hand and once Hongjoong stepped back he could see it for what it really was.
It was a thin, silver cuff that looked expensive as hell.
His jaw dropped.
“If you look at the inside,” Hongjoong motioned at the cuff, “It’s all of our names.”
Speechless, he held it up and looked on the inside of it. Sure enough, all of the members’ names were engraved on the inside.
Probably because Seonghwa still hadn’t managed to say anything, Hongjoong rambled on. “I know how much you like bracelets, so I thought you would like it. And you deserve it. You know, after everything you’ve done for me. For all of us. You know, I may be the leader but you’re like…the head of our family,” he chuckled at the end.
He nodded as he stroked his thumb over the engravings.
“Well?” Hongjoong said. “Do you like it?”
He cleared his throat and tried to process his thoughts. “Of course I like it…I love it. Thank you so much. Sorry, I just - I don’t really know what to say.” He shook his head slightly. He couldn’t stop staring at the cuff. He couldn’t believe Hongjoong had gone to all the money and the trouble just to get a gift for him. He couldn’t understand why; he wasn’t anything special.
“You’re not gonna cry, are you?”
That made him look up at Hongjoong, who was putting his weight on the sides of his feet nervously. “No,” Seonghwa assured him, despite the fact that his throat burned and his eyes stung, “I’m not going to cry.” He fingered the cuff some more before sliding it onto his wrist. “It’s just…” he continued. “This is the best gift I’ve ever received.”
A big, bright smile burst onto Hongjoong’s face as he nodded and looked down at the ground. “Good, I’m glad.”
Seonghwa held open his arms. “Is it okay if I hug you?”
Hongjoong grumbled and shuffled his feet, but Seonghwa knew that it was his way of teasing him, so he took his grumbling as a yes. He wrapped his arms around Hongjoong and slung him around a bit. “Ah, why are you so sweet!” he said.
“Eh, stop it, my ears, they can’t take it!” Hongjoong whined but wrapped his arms around Seonghwa regardless.
*
Hongjoong demanded to clean the kitchen after they finished eating, so Seonghwa took the opportunity to go to their room and start sticking Hongjoong’s stars on the ceiling above his bunk. He figured that Hongjoong would probably get done with the washing first since Seonghwa wanted his constellations to be perfect, but he ended up wandering back into the kitchen after finishing his Aries constellation (he didn’t have the best imagination) to find Hongjoong doing more dancing than washing.
“What are you doing?” Seonghwa smiled at him.
Hongjoong turned around from the sink. “What? I can’t hear you, my headphones are too loud!” he gestured to his AirPods with soapy hands. And then he back to dancing wildly, jumping up and down and grinding the air.
He looked adorable and…happy. And Seonghwa wanted to be that happy too. Especially if it was with Hongjoong. So he walked over and took an AirPod out of his ear and stuck it in his own, resulting in a startled “Hey!” from Hongjoong.
“Michael Jackson, even on Christmas?” Seonghwa groaned.
“Michael Jackson gets to be heard every day, especially on Christmas,” he replied, hilariously serious.
He couldn’t argue much with that, so he helped Hongjoong finish the rest of the dishes as they danced side by side.
The rest of the day went by too fast. They took the opportunity of an empty dorm to spend their time in the main room instead of their cramped dorm room. They watched a movie, complained about how full they were, said they really needed to work off the calories, sat on the couch and watched some more movies, played a card game, did a pushup competition after feeling guilty about sitting for so long (it wasn’t much of a competition since both of them are pathetic), ate chocolate bread for dinner after the pushups tired them out, called some of the other members and teased them about all the empty dorm fun they were missing (as retaliation Wooyoung put his ninety-year old grandmother on the phone), and their night ended with Hongjoong talking to his mother on the phone out in the main room while Seonghwa did his long nightly skin-care routine in their bathroom.
Seonghwa was already up in his bunk playing on his phone by the time Hongjoong walked back to their room and shut the door. His eyes got blinded by his screen when the lights in their room were suddenly flicked off.
“Gah!” he exclaimed and hurried to turn down the phone’s brightness.
“Wow, they’re brighter than I thought they would be,” Hongjoong said in awe.
Seonghwa’s eyes finally adjusted to the new darkness and he looked up at the stars and then over to Hongjoong who still stood by the door. “Yeah, they’re really nice, thanks again.”
He walked over to the bunks. “San’ll probably be jealous.” The white glow from the stars partially illuminated his face.
“Yeah, probably,” Seonghwa snorted.
“Hang on, I wanna see them from your point-of-view,” he declared before climbing up the ladder.
He laid down his phone and moved over to make room for him.
“Ooo,” Hongjoong paused at the top of the ladder to look up.
“Come here, I’ll show you all the constellations,” he gestured at him.
“You had time to make constellations?” He crawled his way over to Seonghwa and laid down next to him.
“Yeah ‘cause you were busy goofing off!”
“Yeah ‘cause you were busy goofing off!” Hongjoong parroted, mocking him.
Seonghwa slapped his hand lightly against Hongjoong’s chest. “Shush. You know, I’m getting déjà vu with you here,” he turned his head to look at Hongjoong.
He chuckled and glanced over at Seonghwa. “Yeah I know, I think you should start coming down to the bottom bunk more often. I’m tired of climbing up here.”
“But down there you wouldn’t get to see all the constellations! Like see, there’s Aries,” he pointed his right hand upwards at some of the stars and traced the constellation with his finger.
“Wow, how imaginative,” Hongjoong quipped.
He tutted at him. “Well, I included you too! There’s Scorpius right beside it!” He moved his hand over and mapped out the stars for Hongjoong.
“Wait,” he said and then grabbed onto Seonghwa’s raised wrist. It was the wrist Seonghwa had put the cuff on, so Hongjoong’s hand was wrapped around it tightly. “Trace it again.”
Seonghwa was suddenly hit by the intimacy of the moment. Of their sides pressed together, the darkened room, the gentle glow of the stars on their faces, Hongjoong’s warm hand on his wrist, the otherwise empty dorm…
And in that moment, as they were tracing Hongjoong’s star sign above Seonghwa’s bed, Seonghwa realized that he’d never been this close to someone before. He was never super close with his brother, and he just had casual friends throughout school. Never someone he’d consider a best friend. Never someone he’d create constellations for.
“Did you have a good Christmas?” Hongjoong asked him.
“You know, I think this might be one of my favorite Christmases,” Seonghwa answered honestly.
He smiled. “Me too.”