Chapter Text
This is a really bad idea.
In hindsight, maybe Hansol shouldn’t have tagged along with people that he hadn’t spoken to since freshman year orientation. Especially when he’s going with two pairs of couples, making him the odd one out. At first, Hansol was excited when, earlier that day, he ran into one of the couples who seemed pretty excited to invite him to this house party. Plus, they seemed cool and had a great taste in music.
But when it came to the pregame, the vibes felt… off. What he initially thought was a genuine interest in his music and producing turned into questions about his numbers, how to “make it” in the industry, and their not-so-subtle requests to connect him with some agents and record companies.
He’s not sure if the free alcohol and ride to the party was worth the twisted feeling in his stomach that he’s all too familiar with: the kind you feel when the road narrows and you’re left walking behind two friends, or being alone in a crowded room full of people who cast a weary eye at you.
It doesn’t help the fact that several minutes into the party, the two couples are nowhere to be seen in the sea of people around him. Hansol pulls out his phone, about to text them and maybe call an Uber home but all he gets is a black screen and a red battery, the final nail in the coffin of this shitty night. Suddenly, the air feels stuffy, the music too loud. The alcohol in his veins twists into something unpleasant.
He has to go outside.
“Fuck,” Hansol groans. He finds a path towards the backyard, weaving through other drunk college kids dancing along to an overstimulating remix of Party in the USA and Time of Our Lives.
When he feels the chill of the air hit his face, Hansol breathes out a sigh of relief, his shoulders drooping as some of the tension releases from his body. He looks around the backyard. On one side there’s an intense game of beer pong and on another side in the far corner are a bunch of stoners passing around a joint.
What catches his attention the most is the huge treehouse adorned in fairy lights, basking it and the two trees that it’s nestled between in a faint and cozy glow.
Since when does a frat house have a treehouse that looks straight out of a Netflix movie?
Hansol heads towards it, determined to escape and hide for a couple of minutes. Or maybe the whole night. He has no way home, his phone is dead, the people he thought could have been good friends just wanted his proximity to the industry (which is laughable, because at most, Hansol is an independent artist with no connection to any big record labels. Which he could have said if they weren’t busy constantly talking about themselves.)
There is a ladder up the tree trunk that leads to a trapdoor. When Hansol starts ascending it, surprisingly no one stops him. It’s a bit of a struggle to hoist himself up each ring given all the shots he took during the pregame, but he finally makes it to the top to push the door aside.
Hansol emerges into the treehouse from the floor, arms shaking from the sheer effort of the climb. He closes the trap door, muffling the sound of the party.
The treehouse interior looks way bigger than he expected. And more decorated with curtains and even more fairy lights. For a frat house, it’s surprisingly tasteful. One wall is adorned with many scribbles and messages from over the years.
⋆ ┈┈ ♬ ┈┈ ⋆
NU’EST CREW WAS HERE - CLASS OF 2012!!!!!!!!!!!
welcome to the FUCK HUT
THIS ISNT A FUCK HUT MAYBE ONLY SOMETIMES BUT THIS IS THE TEAM TREEHOUSE!!!
Mingyu is a babygirl <3333
Yes I am :) ❤️❤️❤️
Soonyoung and Jeonghan made out here - 20150526
>:( >:( - Cheol & Shua - 20170218
⋆ ┈┈ ♬ ┈┈ ⋆
Okay, maybe not as tasteful.
“Hello?”
The sudden voice causes Hansol to jump. He whips his head around to find…
“Seungkwan?”
Well, it looks like the universe heard his plea to find someone he recognizes at this party.
“Hansol!” Seungkwan exclaims, jumping up from the raised platform he was sitting on. “Oh my gosh, hi!”
“Crazy running into you here.” Hansol chuckles as Seungkwan launches towards him, embracing him in a hug.
“I know, right!” Seungkwan pulls away to properly look at him. With his face red and hair sticking to his sweat, he looks as drunk as Hansol feels. “How are you?”
The last time Hansol really interacted with Seungkwan one-on-one was several years ago, when he was a bumbly, awkward, and gangly high school freshman (well, he’s still bumbly and awkward but he's proud to say he’s grown into his style.) They first met during Mrs. Yoo’s biology class for a group project and since then, they've really only really interacted in passing.
Seungkwan looks… different. Not in a bad way, but Hansol’s memory of him was of someone with a rounder and more boyish face and a personality larger than life. He’s grown into his features despite still having the high cheekbones.
“I’m okay,” Hansol replies with a shrug. It doesn’t seem worth it to get into his mess of a night and bring down the mood. “How about you?”
“Only okay?” Seungkwan asks with a pout. “Does the party suck?”
He shakes his head, but the movement makes him feel dizzy as another wave of alcohol hits his brain. His body sways around, eyes closed as he leans against the wall full of written messages.
“It’s not, I promise.” Hansol says. “I’m just really drunk. And I have no way to get home. Do you think I can just crash here tonight?”
Seungkwan tilts his head. “What? What do you mean?”
He sighs. “My phone’s dead and my friends abandoned me. And I don’t really know anyone at this party, except you.”
“What?!” His face twists from confusion to bewilderment. “Why would they leave you behind?!”
“I dunno. I mean, we're not really friends to be honest. I barely knew them.”
“Still, that doesn’t mean you just leave someone alone at a party!” Seungkwan makes a tsk sound, shaking his head. “That’s really shitty of them. I’m really sorry, Hansol.”
Hansol’s chest feels less heavy. He feels so vindicated right now.
“Thank you,” he says.
“Are you okay?” Seungkwan asks, hand reaching out to Hansol’s arm.
“Yeah,” Hansol tries to force out, but then he feels the weird twist from his stomach from earlier, like something is trying to gnaw its way out of his body. “Well, um… it kinda sucks a lot. But I don't wanna be emo about it.”
Seungkwan rubs his hand up and down his arm, the touch grounding and comforting. “You're totally allowed to feel emo, though. If my friends suddenly abandoned me at a party, there'd be hell to pay.”
“Thanks. Again.” The tension in Hansol’s stomach unravels and he feels lighter. Or maybe it was just the alcohol. “That really means a lot.”
“God, the nerve of those people.” Seungkwan mutters, reaching down and tugging at the sleeve of Hansol’s jacket. “You should hang out with me. We can take a shot together!”
“Really? I don't want to be a bother….”
“It's okay, really! You’re never a bother. My friends are busy anyways.”
“Did you also get ditched?”
“Nope, I came up here to take a break from all the dancing.” Seungkwan leads Hansol to the opposite end of the treehouse, revealing another doorway. He opens it, revealing a small outdoor patio with steps leading down to the backyard.
“What the-?!” Hansol exclaims, looking behind him to the door he entered from. “There were stairs this whole time?!”
“Yeah.” Seungkwan stifles a laugh as he leads him back into the backyard. “I can't believe you climbed the ladder! Aren't you drunk?”
“A lot.”
“I can't believe you didn't fall on your ass.”
“Believe me, I couldn't believe it either.”
As if the universe was listening, Hansol trips on the last stair, stumbling into Seungkwan and holding onto him as he tries not to fall on his face.
“Oh god,” he murmurs. He’s had enough embarrassment for one night!
“Are you okay?!” Seungkwan asks, eyes wide with surprise. His grip on Hansol’s arms is strong and firm.
Woah, Seungkwan bulked up so much over the years.
“I tripped on something,” Hansol replies. “I have no clue. I’m drunk.”
Seungkwan breaks out into a grin. “Me too! And we’re gonna get more drunk!”
He grabs Hansol’s hand, leading them back into the house. He’s content to just be dragged along and not be completely alone for once. Despite the chaos of the party around them, the touch almost feels grounding and also just a bit nostalgic. For a moment, he feels like he’s fourteen again. Besides, it looks like Seungkwan knows his way around as they walk from the kitchen to the dining room.
Well, what used to be a dining room. Bottles and red solo cups are strewn everywhere as people crowd towards the makeshift bar for some drinks. Between the thick air from all the people inside dancing and moving about, the stinging smell of alcohol, and the stickiness against his shoes as he walks, it almost feels like a dream.
“Hyung!” Seungkwan screams over the loud music that Hansol is 99.9% sure is a Fetty Wap song. “Give me four shots and two aegyo juices, please!”
Aegyo juice?
Hansol can’t really hear the conversation with how loud it is despite the two screaming at each other, but he can’t help but notice the smirk on the bartender’s face. Whatever the guy said makes Seungkwan look exasperated, like he’s about to curse him out.
“Shut up, Soonyoung!” Seungkwan screams. “Just give us the shots!”
The bartender–Soonyoung?–cackles, handing both of them two shots each and a red solo cup filled with a mysterious red liquid that he’s pretty sure is jungle juice.
“It’s fucked up that your friends ditched you,” the guy shouts towards Hansol, shaking his head. “Those are not your friends at all.”
“We weren't even friends!” Hansol shouts back. “I just knew them from orientation.”
“Good riddance!” Seungkwan exclaims.
“Cheers to new friends!” the bartender says, sporting his own vodka shot.
“And to not having terrible friends!”
For the first time that night, Hansol breaks out in a smile. “Cheers.”
Taking two vodka shots in a row does a number on Hansol. The bitterness makes his face scrunch up, almost gagging and coughing at the taste. He needs the chaser. Grabbing one of the red solo cups, he downs the jungle juice; while he tastes a hint of alcohol, the sweet and fruity taste masks a lot of the vodka.
“Fuck,” Seungkwan hisses, his face also twisted in a grimace. “That is nasty.”
“Sorry,” Soonyoung says. “We ran out of all the good alcohol a while ago. Anyways, Seungkwan, have fun with your boytoy!”
“Oh my god, Soonyoung.” Seungkwan’s exasperated face comes back and this time, he actually tries to shove him but between the semi-dark room and their drunkenness, he completely misses. “Shut up!”
Hansol watches everything unfold, unsure of what to do. Of course, Seungkwan knows people in this house. He probably knows the whole damn school at this point.
“Do you wanna go dance with me?” Seungkwan asks.
On another night, Hansol would say no and ask for a charger so he could get home or go outside and catch up with Seungkwan. But then the song switches from Cobra Starship to Charli XCX and suddenly, Hansol’s energy comes back to him like a bisexual sleeper agent rising from the shadows.
“Yes,” Hansol replies. “I love this song.”
“Yay!” Seungkwan takes his hand once again, flashing him a smile before leading them towards the living room. “Let’s go!”
The party is packed, with people he’s never seen before jumping up and down to the music. The music is so loud, the bass so heavy that he can’t feel his heartbeat. Before he knows it, he and Seungkwan are joining the crowd. He sings along to the music, head bopping, hands up despite the jungle juice sloshing out of the cup every time he jumps, and he loses himself in the music. He stays close to Seungkwan who seems to be matching his every move with an even bigger grin. Even when someone tries to pull him away, he sticks by Hansol’s side.
Hansol feels giddy. He never would have guessed that the night would lead him here, actually having fun at a frat party.
They stay on the dance floor for a couple more songs. While Hansol is energized by Seungkwan’s full attention on him, his body does have its limits. On one particular headbang during a Missy Elliott song, Hansol gets so dizzy that he stumbles right into Seungkwan and the wall next to them.
“Oh my god, Hansol!” Seungkwan doesn't fare well, either. Laughing, he tries to steady them by grabbing onto Hansol’s arms. If the wall wasn't there to catch them, then they would definitely be falling onto their asses.
“We almost fell down,” Hansol wheezes. The more he thinks about it, the more it makes him laugh. “On the floor!”
“We did! That would have been bad.”
“So bad.”
Seungkwan’s face scrunches up and they start laughing once again. Hansol keels over from the pure silliness of it all and almost falls to the floor for a second time.
Unfortunately, this means he’s stumbling into Seungkwan for the second time that night. Hansol reaches out to hold onto his arms to steady himself as the vodka and jungle juice hits him all at once, causing the room to spin a little bit and make him nauseous.
“Hansol?” He lifts his head to see Seungkwan staring at him in concern. “Are you okay?”
“I’m so drunk,” he slurs. He closes his eyes again, but it only serves to make him even more nauseous.
Everything is so loud. It’s so warm. He can smell the mix of alcohol and cologne on Seungkwan. And Hansol is so, so, tired.
“Are you okay?” Seungkwan asks again. “Do you need water?”
“Yeah. Please.”
Hansol wants to lay down. He really should think about how to get home. Digging into his pocket, he grabs his phone to request an Uber, but it's unresponsive.
Oh, right. He forgot.
The red low battery symbol mocks him.
He groans. “My phone’s dead.”
“Oh no,” Seungkwan replies, looking down at Hansol's phone. “Did you need a charger?”
“You have a charger?”
“Yeah, it’s in my room. I’ll take you there.”
Hansol can’t help it, he’s gawking at Seungkwan.
“Your room?”
“Ey!” Seungkwan lightly prods him like he did with Soonyoung earlier. “Are you going to keep echoing me? Come on!”
Once again, Seungkwan takes his hand and leads him around the house and up the stairs, trying to squeeze past people dancing and couples making out against the wall.
“I didn't know you lived here.” Hansol says.
At the top of the stairs is another living room area with beanbags and a television. It’s dark and roped off from any wandering partygoers. One wall contains a long hallway lined with fairy lights and decorated doors.
“Really?” Seungkwan pulls out a key from his pocket, unlocking the door adorned in oranges and polaroid pictures.
“Yeah. You’re in a frat?”
Seungkwan pauses, glancing at Hansol with a confused tilt of his head. “Huh? No, this is the basketball team’s house. Did those guys not tell you?”
“Not really.” Hansol gets ushered inside, with Seungkwan lingering at the door. “That actually makes a lot of sense.”
“They didn't even tell you what this party was? Wow…”
There are two things about Seungkwan that Hansol has noticed throughout the years: 1) Seungkwan is the most outgoing and charming person he knows and 2) he’s the biggest athlete Hansol knows.
“I’ll get you water,” Seungkwan says. “Be right back.”
The door closes, muffling the sound of the party. This newfound silence washes over him like a blanket, comforting him as his body finally lets go of the tension from his heightened senses. As much as he had fun on the dance floor, he’s glad to have some personal space again.
This doesn’t keep the room from spinning. He really needs to lay down.
Hansol scans the room. It’s neatly organized as expected, with the walls adorned in even more fairy lights and posters of K-pop girl groups he doesn’t recognize. On Seungkwan’s desk, there’s a cluster of papers, textbooks, and his laptop. A beanbag sits on the corner of the room next to a bookshelf with more pictures and selfies of Seungkwan and what he assumes is his friends and family.
The beanbag looks so enticing. It’s huge, taking up a good portion of the floor, and it looks incredibly comfortable. As much as he wants to lay on it, Hansol isn’t sure if Seungkwan would be happy barging into his space and using his things like it’s his room.
So, he does the next best thing.
Hansol lies right on the floor, parallel to Seungkwan’s bed.
It should be uncomfortable. The wooden floor is cold to the touch and the fuzzy rug he’s laying under can only do so much to separate him from the hard, solid surface. But in this moment, when Hansol feels light-headed and drunk, it’s the perfect bed for him to sleep on.
As he settles in, Hansol’s eyelids droop. Surely, Seungkwan wouldn’t mind if he took a nap?
Closing his eyes, he feels himself drifting to sleep, reality fading into black—
“Hansol?”
The voice is muffled, sounding close yet far away at the same time. Is this a dream?
“Hey! Hansol!”
Hansol suddenly jumps awake, sitting straight up. Seungkwan is back in the room, two cold water bottles in his hand, staring at him in disbelief.
“Why are you on my floor? You know there’s a beanbag there.”
“I didn't want to be rude,” Hansol murmurs. He gladly takes Seungkwan’s hand to help him get on his feet.
“You’re not, don't worry.”
When he lays down on the beanbag, it engulfs his body like he’s on a cloud.
“What the fuck?” Hansol asks, eyelids fluttering shut once again. “This is huge. And so comfortable.”
“I know, right?” Seungkwan says with a grin, placing the water bottle next to him. “There's a charger next to you.”
“Thank you sooooo much,” Hansol slurs. “You're so nice. The nicest.”
“It's nothing. I’m serious. It isn’t.” Seungkwan then plops down on the edge of the beanbag next to Hansol’s arm. “Ugh, I need to wash my face but I’m so drunk.”
“Just do it tomorrow.”
Seungkwan glares at Hansol with narrow eyes.“I will not be sleeping in my bed with outside clothes and makeup and alcohol breath!”
“It’s fine. Everyone does it. It’s a bite of passage for college.”
“Bite of passage?”
“Yeah.” Hansol cracks his eyes open, seeing Seungkwan stifle his laugh. He bites the air towards him. “Nyam-nyam.”
“You mean rite of passage?
Hansol waves his hand in the air. “Yeah, yeah, something like that.”
The conversation tapers into silence and Hansol feels himself drifting to sleep once again. His breath evens out, body sinking further into the beanbag. And, by the looks of it, Seungkwan is about to follow him to dreamland.
…
…
…
“NO!”
For the second time that night, Hansol jolts awake once again at the sudden noise, eyes wide and heart racing. He looks around, finding Seungkwan trying to get up on his feet.
“I can’t go to sleep yet,” Seungkwan continues. It takes a moment for him to stand up, body swaying around from what Hansol assumes is all the alcohol they drank earlier. “I’ll die tomorrow if I don’t wash my face. Literally.”
“You won’t die,” Hansol murmurs, head falling back into the beanbag.
“I will. And you’ll have to answer for me.” From his closet, Seungkwan pulls out a shower caddy and a set of navy blue silk pajamas. “Fuck, where’s my phone?”
“Nooo,” Hansol wails. “What if they think I killed you?”
“Seungcheol-hyung can bail you out.”
Whoever that is.
“Oh my god.” Seungkwan sifts through his desk, full of scattered notebooks, textbooks, pieces of paper, and a laptop. “I can’t find it. It’s all just all my shit from that assignment we had to do.”
Hansol frowns.
“What assignment?”
Seungkwan freezes his phone search, turning to Hansol.
“You know… the film thing?”
The “film thing” doesn’t narrow it down at all.
“Um…”
“For Professor Na!” Seungkwan places his hands on his hips, his skincare products momentarily forgotten.
“I know that…” Hansol says. He reaches towards his phone, glad to see that it finally turned on. He sees notifications from the group that ditched him and he decides to ignore it. “But… assignment?”
“Yup.” Seungkwan resumes his search, finally finding his phone underneath some pieces of paper, completely oblivious to Hansol’s confusion. “Ah-ha! I found it!”
There’s a new email from their professor that was sent earlier in the morning that he completely missed.
⋆ ┈┈ ♬ ┈┈ ⋆
From: Na Yeon-seok <[email protected]> 10:31 AM (16 hours ago)
To: Chwe Hansol <[email protected]>; Boo Seungkwan <[email protected]>; Miyawaki Sakura <[email protected]>; … [click to expand] ;
Subject: Assignment reminder for FILM127 - Themes and Composition
Body:
Hello class,
This is a friendly reminder that your film composition writeups are due at 11:59pm on Sunday night on Canvas. Please remember to add supplementary evidence to your essays (a movie clip or at least 2 screen grabs) or else you will not get full points. It’s pertinent that you get these assignments in as we will have a quick discussion on the movies you chose during Monday’s class.
If you have any questions or need any extension, feel free to reach out.
Thank you and have a great weekend everyone! :)
Sincerely,
Professor Na
[Reply] [Reply All] [Forward]
⋆ ┈┈ ♬ ┈┈ ⋆
“Fuuuuuuuck,” Hansol groans. “I forgot to turn in this assignment.”
“That’s fine,” Seungkwan replies. “Just submit it tomorrow when it’s due.”
Somehow, this doesn’t stop the frustration bubbling up inside him.
“But I wrote it early,” Hansol whines. He sits up, opening the Notes app and navigating to his essay. “So I didn’t have to think about it before the party. I never do my assignments early.”
“Okay…?” Seungkwan lingers near the door, watching him with an incredulous look. “But you still have time to submit the assignment.”
“I have to send it now.”
“Alright, suit yourself. Do you need my laptop?”
“Nah, I wrote it on my Notes app.”
“You wrote your essay on the Notes app?” The furrow in Seungkwan’s brow deepens, but Hansol isn’t really focused on that. The essay is now being transported onto Google Docs and he’s trying his very hardest to correctly format this paper.
“It helps me focus,” he mutters.
“Okay…” Seungkwan says, opening the door. “I’m gonna go do my thing.”
“‘Kay.”
The door shuts behind him as Hansol opens up his email app. He will get this done before he passes out!
⋆ ┈┈ ♬ ┈┈ ⋆
Seungkwan wakes up with the sun in his face. He groans, pulling the sheet over his head. The light is too bright, his head is pounding, and his throat feels scratchy.
God, how much did he drink last night?
The previous night flashes back in moments like the throb in his headache. Seungkwan remembers winning their first basketball game against SM Tech and the rager that followed after. The shots, the keg stands, the loud music courtesy of Mingyu’s playlist, even more alcohol…
Seungkwan considers putting a hit out on the evil throuple that keeps concocting an even worse version of your typical college party jungle juice. Somehow, with every new party they coordinate, the drinks get even more potent yet sweeter.
“It’s Aegyo Juice!” With a shit-eating grin on his face, Jisoo pours an extra large Buzzball into a jug. The air smells both sickenly sweet and rancidly sharp from all the various juices and alcohols scattered around them. And just like two devils on his shoulders are Jeonghan and Seungcheol holding even more bottles of alcohol in each of their hands, both smiling just as wide as their boyfriend is. “After this you'll want to act out your aegyo!”
“You're trying to kill me is what you're doing. What if I end up passing out in the bushes? What if I go to jail?”
“Then I’ll bail you out! Come on, we won our first game! Let’s do a shot together.”
“Hyunggg…”
“Our stellar point guard deserves it!”
One shot turns into two, which turns into two cups of aegyo juice, and suddenly Seungkwan is in the middle of a dance circle, twerking in the living room while the rest of the party-goers cheer on.
What can he say? He loves the thrill of being in the spotlight.
Seungkwan digs through his memories, trying to piece together the night. He remembers grinding back against a taller, more muscular guy, holding onto his biceps with a firm grip. He recognizes the voice, heard from the football fields, and for a moment he’s surprised that one of these emotionally stunted guys are bold enough to hook up with him.
He remembers inviting the guy to the treehouse to do a little more than grinding but the guy had the gall to stand him up. So much for having a fun and spicy night!
His recollection of events gets spottier after that.
Seungkwan was in that treehouse for a long time. Why?
Suddenly, he hears a snore.
Seungkwan peeks out from under his covers. Did he really follow through with the football guy? If he did, why would he be on the beanbag?
He slowly sits up, craning his neck to get a better view.
It’s not the football player at all.
Even more slivers of last night blot back into his memory: Chan feeding him shots… the treehouse… even more shots… a pretty boy with sad brown eyes…
Wait…
Chwe Hansol?
Seungkwan sits up, crawling towards the end of the bed to get a better look at the guy. The thick and annoyingly perfect brows are more than enough confirmation that yes, this is Hansol Chwe from high school. He’s currently laying straight on his back (which is impressive given that he’s on a beanbag), an arm thrown over his forehead while he snores away. The leather jacket he wore last night is discarded next to him, replaced with one of Seungkwan’s Pompompurin blankets that he probably draped over him at some point.
Right. He brought Hansol up to his bedroom because he got left behind with his group and needed to charge his phone. Suddenly a wave of anger washes over Seungkwan, not at Hansol, but the “friends” he went with. Who abandons someone at a party?!
Maybe this was meant to be. He wouldn’t say he was close with Hansol back then considering they stuck with their respective groups of friends, but the few times he did–partnered in a group project or crossing paths to their classes–Seungkwan always remembered it to be surprisingly delightful. This small skinny boy with an intense stare and a quiet disposition was actually someone who was kind, thoughtful, and incredibly silly.
And kind and thoughtful and silly Hansol still was, dancing and smiling as hard as Seungkwan did in that living-room-turned-dance-floor. When Hansol first entered that treehouse, Seungkwan could see traces of the shy and aloof teenage boy from years ago, hesitant in the way he moves and acts, a huge difference from the Hansol who sang along to Gangnam Style with him. It makes Seungkwan want to find out who these people were and cuss them out.
Hansol definitely has grown out of his lankiness. His chest broadened out, arms toned, and muscles defined with every bend of his arm. Even deep asleep and snoring with his mouth open, he looks… incredibly pretty. Handsome, even.
This information isn’t news to Seungkwan. Just like in high school, he sees Hansol around the university a lot, even if only from afar. Seungkwan’s not a stranger to just how popular he is, especially now that his music is taking off. These days, Hansol is practically the campus heartthrob straight out of a K-pop music video. And now, looking at him up close, he could see why.
Hansol shifts around in the beanbag, limbs and blankets twisting together. Seungkwan quickly lays back down, heart racing as if he got caught staring. Which he definitely was, but Hansol doesn’t need to know that.
Craning his head to get a better look, Seungkwan watches as Hansol stretches his arms out above his head, letting out a deep and gravelly moan at the tension release. That, coupled with the visual of his defined arms, brings a flush to Seungkwan’s cheeks.
Wow, okay. Hansol isn’t just pretty. He is hot. If they were strangers, he would definitely try to hook up with him. In fact, it’s a miracle that he would break his one rule bringing anyone up to his room for any reason. All his hookups always happen in the treehouse thanks to the locks Seungcheol screwed in.
Between Hansol’s shitty situation and by the nature of being someone Seungkwan has known for years, he was okay with making an exception to his rule.
The thing is, Seungkwan doesn't quite know where to go from here. He literally cannot leave the room unless he runs into his teammates who know his self-imposed rule and will see Hansol and jump to conclusions.
Right before he starts planning his and Hansol’s stealthy escape out the house, Seungkwan hears more rustling. He lowers his blanket to see Hansol stirring awake. He’s still twisted up in the blanket except there's a confused frown on his face. Hansol stretches and groans again, moving languidly in a way that reminds Seungkwan of a cat. It’s an interesting combination of cute and hot.
“H’llo?” Hansol slurs, voice croaking from just waking up.
Lord, when did his voice get so deep?
“Good morning.” Seungkwan sits up, rubbing his eyes.
“Seungkwan?” Hansol blinks for several moments, looking around the room until landing back at him. “Oh, hi.”
“Hey.” Seungkwan crawls towards the end of the bed to get a better look at him. “How are you feeling?”
“Ugh. My head is pounding.”
“Do you need painkillers? I have some.”
“I think I’m okay.” Hansol lays back down, running a hand down his face. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I was going to leave after I charged my phone.”
“It’s fine, really! I'm glad we got to run into each other again. Sorry you had to deal with that nonsense last night.”
Hansol shakes his head. “They had bad vibes from the beginning. I don’t know why I tagged along with them.”
“Still,” Seungkwan says. The more he thinks about Hansol’s situation, the angrier he gets. “Who leaves someone alone at a party? That could’ve been really dangerous. Especially when you had a dead phone. Aish…”
Hansol casts his eyes down. He speaks slowly, like he’s intentional with the words that come out his mouth. “That means a lot, Seungkwan. It honestly sucked. I really didn’t know what to do then.”
Seungkwan’s heart lurches. “I don’t even know them and I want to fight them myself.”
“Thank you so much for sticking with me,” he says. “Seriously. You really didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to. I had a lot of fun with you. I hope you did, too.”
Hansol’s face lights up. “I really did. But fuck, we drank so much, didn’t we?”
“Ugh.” Seungkwan’s head droops down towards his bedsheets. “We really did. Well, I had a lot more to drink before we met up, I don’t know about you. My head hurts so bad.”
“I could head out if you need to rest some more. I feel like I overstayed my welcome.”
“I don’t mind you hanging around here. But if you wanted to leave…” Seungkwan sighs, staring at the door leading out his room. “Oh god, I don’t know how to say this. My teammates might see you leave my room and uh… they might jump to conclusions.”
“Ahh…” Hansol replies with a nod. “I mean, that’s fine. It’s not like we actually hooked up, right?”
“I know. But they’re gonna be really annoying about it at first. Just a heads up.”
“I didn’t know you guys had your own home to stay at,” he says. “I really thought I found myself at a random frat house.”
“I mean, it’s the same concept but we’re just the basketball team.”
“That’s awesome. And you have your own room!”
“Yeah, it’s pretty great.”
Hansol hoists himself up to his feet and stretches his legs and body up. With his hands raised over his head, the hem of his tanktop rides up, revealing a patch of skin right above his jeans. Seungkwan looks away with a flush in his cheeks.
“Listen…” Hansol says. “Uh, I wanted to properly thank you for last night. You really didn’t have to hang out with me the entire time, but I’m glad you did. I really would love to catch up whenever you're free. Maybe over some coffee?”
Seungkwan nods, a smile growing on his face. “Coffee sounds great.”
“Sweet.” Hansol smiles and scrunches his nose. It’s incredibly cute. “Are you free now? I’m kinda hungry.”
“Yes! That sounds great.” Seungkwan runs a hand down his face. “Can I just wash my face real quick? I feel so grimy.”
“Yeah, totally. Take your time.”
Grabbing his skincare products, Seungkwan steps outside of the room. He originally planned to slip into the bathroom, wash his face, and then head out with Hansol, but apparently the universe can’t let him have a moment of peace in this house. He expected it, but still!
Right down the hallway on the way to the bathroom, Seungcheol is at Seokmin’s door: two of the nosiest people Seungkwan’s ever met. As soon as he steps out, their conversation dies down as they stare at him with a knowing look.
“Good morning,” Seungkwan greets, returning their smirk with what he hopes is a lethal side-eye.
“I’m sure it is,” Seungcheol says with a smirk.
“Is he still in your room?” Seokmin asks, eyebrows waggling.
“I don't know what you're talking about,” Seungkwan mutters. Even when walking into the bathroom, they follow behind him like two over-eager puppies.
“Don't act like we didn't see you making out with that football player last night.” Seungcheol leans against the doorway, arms crossed with a raised brow.
Seungkwan pays them no mind as he washes his face and lets them bicker.
“Football player?” Seokmin asks, glancing at him with confusion. “That emo guy is on the football team?”
“There's no emo guy on the football team, what the hell are you talking about?”
“I saw Seungkwan lead this guy up to his room.”
Seungcheol whips his head towards Seungkwan, meeting his gaze through the mirror. “You brought someone up to your room?”
“He's a friend from high school,” Seungkwan whines. “He had a bad night and needed his phone charged. That’s it. Besides, I invited the football guy to the treehouse but he ghosted me.”
“Hmm…” Seungcheol does not look convinced. Of course he isn't.
“I think he’s telling the truth,” Seokmin says. “You're way too calm right now.”
“True. If they actually hooked up, Seungkwan would be freaking out more.”
He resists the urge to wrestle them down the stairs.
“I’m going to kick your ass–” Seungkwan starts, but then he looks past Seokmin and Seungcheol’s shoulders, seeing Hansol’s head peeking out from his room. As soon as their gazes meet, Hansol waves at him.
Seokmin and Seungcheol turn around to see where he’s looking.
“Hello!” Seokmin says brightly, as if he wasn’t shamelessly gossiping about him just seconds before! Seungkwan fights himself from rolling his eyes.
“Hey,” Hansol says. “Sorry, uh… Can I use the bathroom?”
“Of course!” Seungcheol replies, gesturing in Seungkwan’s general direction.
“Sweet. Thanks.”
Seungkwan finishes rinsing his face, wiping it dry with a towel as he walks out of the bathroom to let Hansol inside. As soon as the door is closed and locked, Seokmin and Seungcheol’s demeanor goes from polite to smug in an instant.
“Are you sure you didn’t hook up with him?” Seokmin whisper-shouts. “He’s so handsome!”
This time, Seungkwan actually rolls his eyes. “Why don’t you go hook up with him then?”
“He’s defensive,” Seokmin comments. “There it is.”
“I didn’t know you were into alternative guys,” Seungcheol says. “But he kinda looks like everyone’s type, huh?”
“I’m gonna go,” Seungkwan turns around, stomping towards his room. “You two are something else.”
As he steps into his bedroom, Seungkwan places his skincare products down and covers his cheeks with his hands. Beneath his palm, he feels a warm flush that reminds him of the flush of alcohol last night. Except, he’s not drunk and he knows exactly why he’s blushing.
Seungkwan has eyes. Hansol is beautiful. He’s really grown into himself and his style over the years they’ve been living in each others’ peripheries, just barely in each others’ orbit. He remembers when Hansol posted about his music for the first time: an Instagram story linking to a new account and a Soundcloud page.
Black Eye. Prod by VERNON. check it out :)
When he first heard Hansol’s songs, Seungkwan knew he was destined to be a musician. The way he could experiment with beats and produce a flawless track seems almost natural, his visuals and aesthetics lovingly crafted into the enigma that is Vernon. It was only a matter of time before he started to grow into popularity, opening a Spotify page and performing at small venues. He exudes the whole vibe of a nonchalant bad boy, like being cool seems to come effortlessly for him.
Vernon almost seems unrecognizable from the Hansol he knows from their teenage years.
Until last night.
Where Seungkwan saw Vernon in his sharp features and a stare that could pierce your soul, Hansol came out in the way his face lit up after taking the shot with him and Soonyoung, how he scrunched his face and danced to the music, how he was so stubborn about submitting that assignment…
Hot and goofy. A very dangerous combination.
The knocking on his door snaps Seungkwan out of his wandering thoughts.
“One sec!” he exclaims, grabbing a pair of denim shorts and a sweater.
He really shouldn't entertain the words “Hansol” and “hook-up,” especially in the same sentence. For all Seungkwan knows, Hansol is straight as a rod and probably is into more artsy and creative girls.
Seungkwan opens the door to find Hansol on the other side.
“Ready?” Hansol asks, eyes scanning Seungkwan up and down. If it were any other guy, he would think Hansol was checking him out. “Oh shit, should I change clothes? I live next to the cafe but I was planning to go after we got some drinks.”
See? Definitely not checking Seungkwan out. He appreciates the small reality check. Hansol and Seungkwan are two fundamentally different people. He can be attracted to him and that's probably the extent of it.
“Whatever you're comfortable with,” Seungkwan replies. “I don't really care.”
Hansol sniffs his jacket. “I dunno. Am I stinky?”
“What.” This isn't the direction Seungkwan thought this conversation would go.
“Can you, like, see if I’m smelly? I don't wanna be that guy.”
It takes a moment for Seungkwan to fully process what Hansol is asking of him.
Seungkwan slowly leans in, almost hesitant in his movement. Taking two big sniffs, all he could smell was leather and faint cologne.
“You're fine,” he says, pulling away quickly, his cheeks flushing.
Hansol beams. “Sweet. Wanna go now?”
“Yes, please. I need coffee so bad.”
⋆ ┈┈ ♬ ┈┈ ⋆
Heaven’s Cloud Cafe is nestled between the university and downtown, making it a popular spot for students to go if they want to go off-campus. It’s certainly one of Seungkwan’s favorite spots to get coffee and study. How much money he's spent on this place alone is between him and whatever higher power is up there in the universe.
Since it’s a Sunday morning and he’s hungover, Seungkwan treats himself to a latte with a cream top and a pastry. Even better: Hansol ends up paying.
“Thank you so much for getting this for me,” he says to Hansol as they settle into one of the couches in the cafe’s outdoor seating area.
“No worries,” Hansol replies, taking a sip of his drink. “It’s the least I could do to thank you for, uh, last night.” He winces, face scrunching up. “Wow, that sounded loaded.”
Seungkwan stifles a laugh. “It’s fine. I know what you mean.”
“Good thing your teammates weren't around to hear that, huh?”
“Oh god.” Seungkwan groans. “They're so annoying. How much of that did you hear?”
“It’s fine. I caught the tail end of it. Those guys seem really funny.”
“They are. But they’re also little shits.”
Hansol laughs and the conversation tapers off from there. Seungkwan takes this pause and checks up on his notifications. The team group chat is, as usual, going a mile a minute while this week’s clean up crew tackles the post-party house but as he scrolls further down, he sees an email from Hansol sent hours ago.
⋆ ┈┈ ♬ ┈┈ ⋆
From: Chwe Hansol <[email protected]> 2:46 AM (7 hours ago)
To: Boo Seungkwan <[email protected]>; Na Yeon-seok <[email protected]>; Miyawaki Sakura <[email protected]>; … [click to expand] ;
Subject: RE: Assignment reminder for FILM127 - Themes and Composition
Body:
Dear Professor Na,
I;m so sorry I can't log into Canvas I forgot my password :( I've attached it here with the movie scene I want to use.
Pls let me know if this is okay.
Thanm u
Hansol
Sent from my iPhone
8 Attachments • Scanned by Gmail
Chwe_Shrek.doc; Shrek_picturecomp.jpg; Shrek_picturecomp1.jpg; Seungkwan1stdraft.mp3; Jimin1_2.mp3; NoahFinal.mp3; sooyoung_gfdjgkdfgf_draft1.mp3; IMG 007.jpg
⋆ ┈┈ ♬ ┈┈ ⋆
Seungkwan frowns. He definitely remembers Hansol being insistent on getting this assignment done but at that point, he was already pretty wasted and ready to fall asleep.
“Hansol…?” Seungkwan asks, scanning through the attachments.
Seungkwan_1stdraft.mp3. His stomach churns.
“Hmm?” he responds, turning his head towards Seungkwan.
“Did you mean to send these last night?” Seungkwan turns his phone screen.
Hansol’s brow furrows, eyes scanning the email. Seungkwan can see his moment of realization in the way his face drops, the color draining from his face.
“Fuck.” Hansol mutters, pulling out his phone. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Seungkwan doesn’t know what to say while he sees a very obvious spiral happening right before his eyes. He doesn’t quite know what to do in this situation. He places a hand on Hansol’s arm to try to comfort him. Admittedly, Seungkwan is also at a loss for words, his own thoughts racing through his head.
Did Hansol write a song for him? Since when?
Before Seungkwan can say anything else, a person suddenly looms over them: a tall, lanky guy with a pair of overalls and a mesh shirt holding an iced matcha.
“Chwe Hansol!” the guy barks. “What the hell is this?”
The guy flashes Hansol the phone screen, showing none other than the email in question.
“Noah,” Hansol says in a strained voice. Seungkwan notices the tension radiating off him with the way he’s gripping the edge of the couch. “It was a mistake. You weren’t supposed to see that.”
“And why not?” The guy–Noah–crosses his arms. He’s loud enough to draw the attention of the people around them. “Did you write these songs about these people while we were dating?”
Seungkwan tries his hardest not to pull a face.
Hansol’s ex?
“No!” Hansol explains. “It’s just drafts I’ve collected over the years. No one was supposed to see that.”
“So what, am I just someone for you to write songs about then discard later?”
“Noah–”
“Well, if this is your way of asking me back, it’s terrible. God, why do you always have to be so weird?”
Seungkwan glances at the way Hansol’s fists ball up from inside his sleeve, knuckles almost white. In his periphery, he can see people looking their way, trying hard to eavesdrop on this conversation.
“That’s enough!” he says.
As if Noah just noticed his existence, he glares daggers at Seungkwan.
“Who are you? Are you, like, his new boyfriend or something? Did you know about these songs?”
“What if I am?” Seungkwan glares back at Noah and crosses his arms. Two can play at this game. “Look, you heard him. He made a genuine mistake. Besides, why do you even care? It’s not like you guys are together.”
Noah looks taken aback and Seungkwan counts this as a win. He places his hand on Hansol’s trembling fist.
“Now if you'll excuse us,” Seungkwan continues. He feels Hansol’s hand relax, grasping onto his. “We’re gonna go.”
Seungkwan stands up, pulling Hansol up to his feet. He acquiesces, following Seungkwan close behind while he finds the exit out the cafe.
Okay, so maybe Hansol is more well known around campus than he anticipated. It seems like every passing table has their eyes on both of them. When Seungkwan glances their way, of course their gazes are averted so as not to draw attention to themselves.
As soon as they step outside, Seungkwan walks away from the crowd and somewhere more isolated. He wonders if he should take him back to the house.
“The nerve of that guy,” Seungkwan mutters. “So rude! No wonder why you broke up with him.”
Silence.
“Hansol?”
Seungkwan pauses, slowing down his gait and turning his attention towards Hansol. He looks like he’s in a complete state of shock. The grip on Seungkwan’s hand is tight. When he runs his free hand through his hair, it’s trembling.
“Hansol, hey.” Seungkwan says in a soft voice. His thumb runs over Hansol’s hand, noticing the glassy shine in his eyes.
“Hi,” Hansol replies. When he blinks, tears fall down his cheeks and his hand reaches out to feel them. “Oh.”
For how tense he is, this flippant response rings alarm bells in Seungkwan’s mind. He wants to reach out, offer a comforting hug, do something to help him out. But Hansol feels distant, like there’s an iron-clad fortress between him and the world around him.
“Seungkwan.” Hansol’s voice is small and strained, like he’s trying to force the words out of his throat. “I think I’m gonna go back to my apartment.”
“Are you sure? Do you need me to walk with you?”
“No. I’ll just… I’m gonna go. Thank you, Seungkwan.”
Hansol leaves as quickly as Seungkwan could blink. He walks back in the direction of the cafe, body hunched over and head cast down.
For a moment, Seungkwan can't move. His brain is still processing the whiplash of the past twelve hours. Reuniting with his high school friend and dealing with his crazy ex definitely was not on his to-do list for the weekend. Mostly, he feels terrible for Hansol. He can't imagine the pure panic he’s feeling. Seungkwan has his number. Should he send a supportive message over text?
Maybe this is the end of their interactions. When all is said and done, they're still barely in each others’ lives. All he can do is move on and continue on with his day.
Except…
What was that file with his name on it?
When Seungkwan makes it back to the basketball house, things are considerably cleaner and emptier. From the second floor, he can hear Soonyoung and Mingyu screaming at each other, probably playing video games or arguing about something unimportant.
With the living room unoccupied, Seungkwan flops onto the couch and puts his earbuds on. On his phone, he navigates to the email Hansol accidentally sent out last night.
There are attachments: three of them being the actual assignment, one random image of what looks like a meme of a cat, and four mp3 files each assigned with different names.
Seungkwan included.
Something in his mind doesn't compute. He didn't seem like someone Hansol would deem important enough to write a song about, considering the extent of their interactions are just likes on social media and hand waves in passing. In fact, the last time Seungkwan and Hansol hung out was for a group project years and years ago. Why is he in there with Hansol’s ex?
Seungkwan_1stdraft.mp3.
First draft? Does that mean there are more songs about him?
Seungkwan’s thumb hovers over the attachment, about to press down on the screen and open the attachment. What kind of song could Hansol possibly write about him?
And yet, he can't follow through. His thumb stays frozen in place as he remembers the way Hansol completely froze up during the interaction with the ex, the way he couldn't hold back the tears no matter how hard he tried.
Seungkwan can't do that to him. He’s already been through enough.
“Whatcha doin'?”
Seungkwan screams, startled by the person appearing behind his head. He covers his phone with his chest, looking up to see Jisoo looking down at him.
“You scared me,” he muttered. “Jeez.”
“Are you watching porn?” Jisoo asks with a smirk.
“No!”
“Then why are you acting all suspicious with your phone?”
“Is Seungkwan watching porn in the living room?” a voice from the second floor asks. Descending down the stairs, Seungcheol meets his boyfriend halfway and greets him with a hug and a kiss. It makes Seungkwan want to gag.
“I’m not!” Seungkwan wails. “Why would I do that here of all places?!”
“I dunno,” Jisoo says. “Maybe you’re freaky like that.”
Seungkwan launches a throw pillow at Jisoo who dodges it with his smug little grin.
Seungcheol heads into the kitchen and Jisoo takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch next to Seungkwan’s feet.
“I heard some stuff today,” Jisoo says, patting Seungkwan’s ankle. He’s speaking in a lower tone than earlier as if he doesn’t want his voice to travel through the house.
“Okay…?”
“So you and Chwe Hansol…” He leans in, voice dropping into a whisper. “Are you guys really dating?”
Seungkwan’s stomach drops. “Where did you hear that?”
“It’s kinda going around. Apparently you fought his ex at Heaven’s Cloud?”
He covers his face with his hands, groaning loudly. He should have known all those wandering eyes at the coffee shop wouldn’t stay contained to just gossip at the table. Everyone knows Hansol because of his music. He’s practically semi-famous on campus. Of course people were going to talk. He didn’t realize it was going to be so soon.
“I didn’t fight him,” Seungkwan replies. “He was being so mean to Hansol. I had to help him out.”
“That’s crazy. So many people are talking about it.”
Seungkwan’s stomach churns. He recalls the conversation from earlier. Technically, he didn’t deny that he was Hansol’s boyfriend.
“Oh god,” he mutters.
“I think it’s sweet,” Jisoo replies with a smile. “Defending your boyfriend’s honor and all. Plus, Hansol is a really sweet guy.”
Seungkwan lifts his head up, shooting a surprised glance at Jisoo.
“You know him?”
“Yeah. I helped him out a lot last year when you guys were freshmen. I actually encouraged him to keep making music. Honestly, I’d say we’re still pretty good friends, which is why I was so surprised when I found out you two were boyfriends!”
“Well…” Seungkwan starts.
“Seungkwannie has a boyfriend?” Seungcheol pokes his head through the doorway leading into the kitchen. “What?! Since when?”
“Boyfriend?” Seokmin asks, descending down the stairs. “Seungkwan has a boyfriend?”
Seungkwan tries to get a word in, but when the team gets riled up, it’s hard for them to stop. Seokmin and Seungcheol glance at each other, faces morphing into shock.
“Wait, you’re dating the emo guy?!” Seungcheol asks. “Wait, Shua, you know this guy?”
“Wow!” Seokmin exclaims, hugging Seungkwan from behind. “I’m so happy for you, Seungkwan. That is the handsomest guy I’ve ever seen.”
“How does that work when you were sucking face with the football guy at that party?”
“What!”
Another eruption of screams almost shatters Seungkwan’s ear drums. The conversation is going so fast, he can’t tell who’s talking. He needs a way out of here, pronto.
“Guys,” Seungkwan yells through the noise. “I’ll tell you about it later, okay? We’re still… figuring things out.”
“Wow,” Seokmin clutches his chest, wiping away an imaginary tear from his face. “Young love. So sweet.”
“I’m only a year younger than you!” Seungkwan hoists himself into a sitting position. He needs to leave this conversation quick. “That’s all I’m saying. I’m going to go do my homework now, bye!”
Seungkwan runs up the stairs and into his room, letting out a deep breath that he didn’t know he was holding.
Things are snowballing fast. If the gossip has reached Jisoo and the seniors, then the whole school might as well know at this point.
Should he text Hansol about it? Does Hansol even want to talk to him about it? How does he even deal with the prying questions he’s eventually going to get from… well, everyone?
“Oh god,” Seungkwan mutters, throwing himself onto the beanbag. The Pompompurin blanket is still draped over it, a reminder of his time with Hansol and all the events that happened after.
He runs his hands over his face. For once, he’s at a complete loss on what to do.
Maybe it’s not that bad. Jisoo is a well-connected person, so it makes sense that he’s familiar with the campus gossip. Maybe he can just go about his day like usual and pretend that nothing happened. He’ll just keep his head low, do his homework, and maybe binge watch a TV show in bed tonight.
Maybe this will pass once the school week starts picking back up. Seungkwan has no choice but to believe in that.