Chapter Text
The start of Towards The Light was exhilarating for Seonghwa. Stepping off the stage for the second concert in Seoul was something he’d never get used to. His adrenaline was through the roof and his blood was pumping fast. There were things he needed to work on to make himself perfect for the rest of the tour, but he was happy with how tonight went.
“Nice job, hyung,” Jongho said as he clapped Seonghwa on the back. This was the best compliment he was going to receive from their maknae, so he smiled and tried not to make a big deal out of it. His heart fluttered as he saw Hongjoong go up to Jongho and then to Wooyoung, with a small smile on his face.
Seonghwa could see the tiredness in all of them, so he took his time to make sure that he handed out drinks before sitting down himself, going through his bag to change.
Seonghwa had too much pent-up energy. He knew he should rest, but he had the day off tomorrow, and concerts always left him feeling more energized than not.
He texted several of his hookups as he got changed, hoping at least one of them would respond in the next twenty minutes.
“Seonghwa-hyung, the car is leaving in ten minutes. Where are you headed?” Yunho asked as he poked his head into the room where he, Hongjoong, and Wooyoung were still gathering their things. Looking down at his phone, he noticed he had three new messages. He opened the text thread from a previous hookup who was not particularly nice, but he was already at the venue, having come to their concert.
“Actually, Hyunwoo-hyung is here. I’m going to go home with him.”
Wooyoung gave him a look. Seonghwa knew what was about to happen, so he took the time to text their manager.
“Hyung, the last time you went with him, it wasn’t safe.”
Seonghwa glanced over to Hongjoong, who was sitting on the couch, reading something on his phone. He really did not want to have this conversation in front of the man who he wished would fuck him instead.
“Wooyoung-ah, it’s okay. It was new, but I liked it.”
“But it wasn’t safe. That’s not something you do with a stranger you met on an app. If you don’t trust him enough to even take a normal selca with you, then you can’t trust him to choke you,” Wooyoung said, crossing his arms.
At that, Hongjoong’s head shot up, looking between the two with surprised eyes. Seonghwa chose to ignore him while continuing his argument with Wooyoung. “I told you it was safe—”
“Choking is never safe. Even if it’s with someone you trust with your entire being. There are safer ways to do it, but you can’t just walk into a hook-up and expect them to know how,” Wooyoung said.
Seonghwa sighed heavily, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He felt Hongjoong’s eyes on him the entire time, making his skin heat up. “I’ll talk with him before.”
“And don’t forget!” Wooyoung called out to him as he left the room.
Seonghwa took a deep breath as he walked away. He knew that Wooyoung was right, but lately he hadn’t been feeling very fulfilled with… well, anything. He was always craving more. His sex life had been lackluster, and the only time he had an orgasm that wasn’t only a few seconds long was with Hyunwoo, and that still wasn’t great. Sometimes he would leave without even coming, making him so frustrated that he couldn’t sleep. That frustration would leech into the next day, causing him to be in a bad mood.
He found Hyunwoo waiting for him near the back, leaning against the wall while scrolling through his phone. He was tall, dressed in all black, and had the kind of sharp face that Seonghwa found intoxicating, mostly because it was usually paired with an air of slight disapproval.
"Hyung," Seonghwa greeted, forcing a bright smile.
Hyunwoo pocketed his phone and straightened up. "Took you long enough."
"I had some things I had to finish up," Seonghwa explained, tension building more in his shoulders.
Hyunwoo didn’t press the issue. He simply nodded toward the door. "Your manager let me bring my car around so we could leave from here. Let’s go.”
The walk to the car was silent. Seonghwa felt that familiar charge of energy with Hyunwoo. It was dangerous and immediate, and he knew Wooyoung's concern was valid. Hyunwoo was always pushing boundaries, but Seonghwa was tired of being safe. He wanted to feel something, he just didn’t know what that something was.
As they got into the car, Seonghwa remembered his promise to Wooyoung. He took a deep breath. "Hey, before we get started, we need to talk about..." He trailed off, suddenly finding the words hard to say to the man who was currently the only way he could chase away the feeling of restlessness.
Hyunwoo turned the key in the ignition, the engine purring to life. He glanced over at Seonghwa, a faint, almost challenging smirk playing on his lips. "About what? The fact that you clearly need me more than you’d like to admit?"
Seonghwa’s cheeks burned. The humiliation was something he didn’t really like. "No. About what happened last time. You need to be more careful with the choking."
Hyunwoo laughed. It was a dry, dismissive sound. "You came back, didn’t you? You liked it."
"I did, but it needs to be safer. I think we need a safe word.”
Hyunwoo started driving, pulling out onto the street. "Fine. Let’s use... ‘light.’. If you say ‘light,’ I stop. Happy?" He sounded bored, already signaling that this was an annoying hurdle he had to clear before getting what he wanted.
Seonghwa nodded, feeling a hollow victory. It wasn't the reassuring conversation that he craved, but it would do. "Yes. 'Light. '”
The car ride was quick. When they arrived at Hyunwoo’s apartment, Seonghwa followed him inside. The scent of the man's overpowering cologne filled his senses. He took his time taking Hyunwoo’s coat, making sure everything was perfect for Hyunwoo, who just looked annoyed at how long Seonghwa was taking. He knew exactly how this night would unfold, and yet, he still hoped that this time it would finally be enough. That this time, he wouldn’t leave feeling the same crushing emptiness as before.
But nothing changed.
Hyunwoo did nothing different this time. The man went fast, barely opening Seonghwa up, and wrapped his hands around Seonghwa’s neck harder than last time. It was over in ten minutes, and Hyunwoo didn’t even register that Seonghwa hadn’t come. Just rolling over and taking the condom off as Seonghwa lay there, his dick not even close to being hard.
A quiet sigh escaped Seonghwa as he pushed himself up. He moved to gather his clothes, each movement heavy with disappointment. He was hopeful that next time would be better, but that was something he told himself every single time to justify the waste of time.
“So I was thinking,” Hyunwoo’s voice cut through the silence as he emerged from the bathroom, towel slung low on his hips. He was undeniably attractive. All hard lines, a plush ass, and a genuinely big dick. But looks only got you so far, and the man was completely shit in bed and his personality wasn’t much better. “Since we’ve fucked a few times now, maybe we should go on a date.”
Seonghwa couldn't help it. A short laugh escaped him as he pulled his pants up. He didn't bother to look up until the silence stretched too long, and when he did, he saw the irritated expression on Hyunwoo’s face. “Wait, you’re serious,” he realized, the amusement dying in his throat.
“Yes, I’m serious,” Hyunwoo insisted, his arms crossing over his chest, his posture defensive.
“I told you at the beginning of this, Hyunwoo. I don’t date.” Seonghwa yanked his shirt over his head. The boundary had been clear.
“But our chemistry is good,” Hyunwoo argued, which made Seonghwa’s fingers itch to grab his bag and bolt. “We could at least try.”
Seonghwa pulled his hoodie over his shirt, the soft fabric shielding him. He looked at Hyunwoo struggling to keep the laugh from bubbling up again. At least one of them was enjoying this. “My career comes first. I don’t have time for a relationship, Hyunwoo. I barely have time for this,” he gestured vaguely toward the bed. “I’m not dating you, and I’m not dating anyone else.” He grabbed his bag off the floor.
Hyunwoo’s face twisted into an ugly sneer, the handsome facade crumbling. “Is this about Hongjoong? You always look at him like you want him to fuck you. Is that it? Are you fucking Hongjoong too?” The accusation was venomous, laced with a pathetic jealousy that made Seonghwa’s blood run cold.
Seonghwa stopped dead in his tracks. The mention of his best friend, the person who meant the most to him, stripped away all his tolerance. His features hardened, becoming cold. He marched back to Hyunwoo, poking him hard in the center of his chest.
“You don’t get to talk about him like that,” Seonghwa said, his voice low and dangerous. “We’re not fucking. But you know what? If we were, maybe he would actually make me come.” Seonghwa pushed his finger in harder. “Lose my number, Hyunwoo.”
“Yah, you don’t mean that.”
“I do mean that,” Seonghwa affirmed, taking a step back and turning toward the apartment door. “I told you when we started this that we would never date. I warned you that if you caught feelings, I was done. And then you had the audacity to talk shit about one of my members. I don’t deal with that kind of disrespect.”
“Baby, don’t do this—”
Seonghwa spun around so fast he felt dizzy. “Don’t ever call me that,” he spat the word out. “Don’t ever call me, period. I’m blocking your number the second I walk out that door.”
Hyunwoo swallowed hard. “Let me at least give you a ride back to your dorm.”
“No, I’m good,” Seonghwa said dismissively. His tone was final, the conversation over. “I would rather not spend another second with you.”
Seonghwa didn't wait for another word. He slammed the apartment door shut. He didn’t care if it was too loud or if he woke up the neighbors. He would never see these people again. He walked quickly down the hall, pulling his hoodie up over his head, shielding his face from the world. Once outside, he focused on regulating his breathing, taking deep, slow breaths in an attempt to calm the lingering anger. A few blocks away was a popular club that always had a line of taxis waiting for people. He would walk there, find a cab, and let the quiet drive home wash away the memory of the past hour. The calming thoughts were slow, but he kept walking, determined to leave Hyunwoo and that entire train wreck in the dust.
By the time Seonghwa was walking into his building, an almost hysterical laugh threatened to escape him. The sheer absurdity of the night's interaction felt like a punch to the gut. He had always been careful with who he went out with, making sure to establish boundaries beforehand. Every partner had been made aware of his stance. This was the very first time someone had so blatantly crossed the line.
He began his walk up the staircase, preferring the exercise. As he reached his floor, the elevator dinged as it opened. Hongjoong stepped out of it, and the sight of him stopped Seonghwa mid-step. Hongjoong was hunched slightly, a massive, overstuffed bag slung low over his shoulder, and his large headphones covered his ears.
His posture suggested exhaustion, but it wasn’t the tight, wired tension of stress. His shoulders sagged with a comfortable weight, a sadness that looked more like peaceful satisfaction than strain. He looked spent, yet somehow content. As he lifted his head, his skin seemed to catch the harsh hallway light just right, giving him an almost ethereal glow. His bleached blond hair fell into his tired eyes, which were wide with surprise when they met Seonghwa’s.
“Where are you coming back from?” Seonghwa asked, the question escaping him before he could temper the concern in his voice. He shifted his weight, his stiffness suddenly forgotten.
Hongjoong gently slid his headphones down to rest around his neck. “Just the studio,” he replied, his voice a low and tired murmur.
Seonghwa stared at him, unable to hide his disbelief even though he should be used to this by now. “Are you serious? Hongjoong-ah, we just finished one of our most physically and emotionally draining concerts ever. You went straight to work?”
Hongjoong let out a soft breathy laugh, the sound holding a hint of amusement. He tightened his grip on the strap of his enormous bag and started walking toward his door. His fingers danced across the keypad, the buttons beeping softly in the quiet as he typed in the code. “I couldn’t sleep,” he admitted, shrugging off the concern. “I had too much energy. It was the only way to burn it off.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “What about you?”
Seonghwa’s shoulders slumped, and he let out a heavy sigh, the sound echoing his disappointment. Hongjoong’s chuckle that followed was the perfect antidote. The sound washed over Seonghwa, a wave of comfort that instantly started to melt away his anxiety and clear the unpleasant fog from his head. Hongjoong had always had that grounding effect on him, even back when they were just two young people learning how to navigate the complicated terrain of the job and each other's personalities.
“That bad, huh?” Hongjoong murmured, pushing his door open. He paused, nodding towards the door. “Do you want to come in? Wooyoung is over at your dorm anyway, and Jongho went out a little while ago.”
Seonghwa didn't need to be asked twice. He nodded, stepping quickly through the door that Hongjoong held open for him. The air inside the apartment was warmer, smelling faintly of citrus and patchouli. “I have to finish something, but it won’t take me long,” Hongjoong said, gesturing into the living area. “Go get comfortable. Find something to watch and relax.”
Seonghwa offered a grateful hum and nodded again, falling onto the couch. He picked up the remote, settling himself into the corner, stretching his long legs out with a groan. His muscles were stiff, screaming for the stretching he had skipped in his rush to meet the disappointment that was Hyunwoo.
The show played in the background as he doom scrolled on his phone, looking at videos from the concert and taking mental notes of things that he could improve on. Eventually, Hongjoong came out to join him, sitting on the other side of the couch, just inches away from Seonghwa’s feet.
Neither of them spoke and they stayed in that comfortable silence for another fifteen minutes before Seonghwa’s stomach let out a loud growl. He stretched again, a full-body movement that ended with his feet pushing lightly into Hongjoong's side. The slight jostle caused Hongjoong to look up from his phone, a hand instinctively coming up to rest on Seonghwa’s ankle.
“Hongjoongie,” Seonghwa whined, his voice a low, theatrical moan. “I’m starving.”
He felt the light pressure of Hongjoong’s hand squeeze his ankle reassuringly. Hongjoong glanced at his phone, the soft light illuminating his face as he checked the time and then showed Seonghwa. It was close to three-thirty in the morning. At this hour, nothing would be open except for convenience stores.
“Do you want to go get ramyeon?”
“My legs hurt,” Seonghwa complained, exaggerating his stiffness for dramatic effect. He gave Hongjoong a few insistent taps with his toes. “Can you go for me, please?”
“Yah, I’m not your slave, Park Seonghwa,” Hongjoong said, though there was no bite to his tone. He made a half-hearted attempt to smack Seonghwa’s legs away, but Seonghwa only put them right back, finding that the minor movement and gentle pressure actually helped ease the tightness in his calves.
“They are so incredibly stiff, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa insisted, his pout deepening. “I honestly don’t think I’ll be able to move for the next twelve hours. You have to save me. I’ll starve without your help.”
Hongjoong looked up at him fully then, with an expression that bordered the line of disappointment. Seonghwa felt an uncomfortable twist in his stomach, suddenly wishing he could melt right into the couch cushions instead of being subjected to that look. “Did you not stretch at all after the show?” Hongjoong asked, his voice flat. Hongjoong’s hands slid up Seonghwa’s calves, stopping halfway and kneading his fingers into the muscle.
Seonghwa sighed from the feeling and from knowing he was busted. “No, you know I left after the encore. I was rushing.”
“You still need to stretch and take care of yourself,” Hongjoong said, moving to the other leg
“Honestly, I thought I would get something similar with Hyunwoo,” Seonghwa grumbled, the memory of the night coming back in one fell swoop.
“Come on,” Hongjoong said as he got up, holding out his hands for Seonghwa to take. He sighed but grabbed them, letting Hongjoong pull him up. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be back.”
Seonghwa watched Hongjoong disappear down the hallway toward the bathroom, then moved toward the large window in the living room. The apartment wasn't on the highest floor, but it was up there, offering a pretty view of the street below. He pressed his hand against the glass, and the cold seeped through his hoodie sleeve. He hadn't realized how much the temperature had dropped. He peered closer at the streetlights below, and a light, steady snow was falling.
"Damn it," he muttered. His thin hoodie wasn’t going to cut it for a late-night walk to the convenience store, even if it was just a few blocks away. He’d left his heavier jacket in his own room, and he didn’t want to go down the hall and potentially walk in on something he shouldn’t.
He needed something warmer. He crossed the living room and hesitated outside the closed door of Hongjoong’s bedroom. Seonghwa didn’t like entering the others’ private spaces uninvited, but Hongjoong wasn't exactly known for getting angry over borrowing clothes.
He wouldn’t mind, Seonghwa decided, and slowly pushed the door open. The room was dark, lit only by the city glow filtering through the window. Seonghwa fumbled for the light switch, flipping it on.
The room was pretty neat for Hongjoong's standards, smelling faintly of clean laundry and citrus. Seonghwa’s eyes went to the chair where Hongjoong often tossed his practice clothes. Finding no coat, he took a step further into the room, his gaze landing on the bed.
He froze.
Sprawled across the orange duvet, laid out on several towels, was an array of leather and metal. There was a thick black leather harness resting next to a heavy-looking silver chain attached to a collar. Beside those lay a couple of paddles, one made of smooth wood and the other studded with soft leather knots, and a sleek flogger. Everything was clean and well-maintained.
Seonghwa stood motionless, his head completely empty. His breath hitched, and the blood rushed from his face, leaving him feeling dizzy and strangely exposed. He didn’t know what he expected to find in Hongjoong’s room—music equipment, maybe some half-finished lyrics, scattered clothes, but certainly not this.
He felt a hot, confusing flush spread across his neck and face. This was Hongjoong’s private life. This was something he had stumbled upon accidentally, and he knew he should leave, apologize for entering, and pretend he saw nothing. But his feet were glued to the floor.
He was staring at his best friend’s secrets. Secrets that Seonghwa had no right to be seeing.
He took a slow step backwards, intending to turn off the light and leave before Hongjoong came back. Before it was too late to convince himself that what he had just seen was reality. But as he began to pivot, his eyes snagged on one more detail, something tucked almost entirely beneath a towel. He walked forward, his heart hammering against his ribs.
It was a riding crop, slender and rigid, the handle wrapped in braided leather, lying innocently next to a small tube of lubricant and a bottle of what looked like cleaning spray specifically for leather. Hongjoong obviously wasn't just interested in this. He owned, maintained, and used this equipment.
The sudden sound of the toilet flushing snapped Seonghwa out of his daze. Panic overrode all of his senses. He whirled around, flipping the light switch back off, plunging the room into darkness once again. He then stumbled backward, pulling the door shut just as the door down the hall opened.
He pressed his back flat against the cool hallway wall next to the door, waiting for the blood to stop rushing in his ears.
Hongjoong came out, rubbing his hands together. "Ready?" he asked, a faint, easy smile on his face. He didn't seem to notice the way Seonghwa was practically vibrating with tension or the fact that he was standing pressed against the wall.
"Y-yeah," Seonghwa stammered, hating the tightness in his voice. He forced himself to push off the wall, trying to adapt to a normal stance, but his hands were shaking. He quickly put them into the pockets of his hoodie. "I just… it got cold in here really fast. I was thinking of grabbing a coat."
Hongjoong frowned, reaching a hand out to briefly rest on Seonghwa’s forehead, checking for a fever. "Are you okay? You feel kind of warm."
The unexpected touch made Seonghwa almost flinch. He took another step back. "I’m fine. Just a sudden chill. Let’s go; I’m seriously starving."
"Alright, alright. I’ll grab a coat." Hongjoong turned, and Seonghwa watched, paralyzed, as he walked right up to the bedroom door, completely unaware of the catastrophe Seonghwa had just caused in himself by opening it. Hongjoong opened the door and stepped inside without flipping on the light.
Seonghwa squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable. He imagined the sudden realization dawning on Hongjoong’s face. Why was Seonghwa in the hall? Was it not obvious that Seonghwa went in there? He was ready to get on his knees to apologize as soon as Hongjoong brought it up.
A moment passed, then another.
"Okay, you were right. It’s snowing," Hongjoong called out, his voice completely normal, devoid of any panic or shock. He reappeared, zipping up a thick, padded jacket, and pulled on a beanie before handing Seonghwa another coat. "Grab a scarf from the hall closet, it’s going to be freezing out there. Here, also, wear this."
Seonghwa stared. "Did… did you get what you needed?"
"Yeah, my coat," Hongjoong said, giving him a confused look. "Why?"
"No reason," Seonghwa mumbled, relief making him dizzy.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Seonghwa nodded as he went to the other closet, pulling out one of the scarves and wrapping it around his neck. Hongjoong walked up and fiddled with the fabric, tightening it around Seonghwa’s neck slightly and pulling it up more around his mouth. The intimacy was dizzying, and Seonghwa held his breath. Maybe Hongjoong wasn’t questioning why he was standing right outside his door, and everything would be fine.
The walk to the store was quiet, their footsteps muffled by the continuously falling snow. The air was crisp, stinging the small patch of exposed skin on Seonghwa's face. When they finally reached the brightly lit store, they paused to brush the snow from each other’s shoulders before heading to the ramyeon aisle. Both of them grabbed several packages of their favorite and other random snacks.
When they reached the register, Seonghwa tried to assert himself, fumbling for his own wallet and card. "I'll get mine, Hongjoong-ah," he murmured, but the words were lost. Hongjoong’s card was already out, swiped, and back in his wallet before Seonghwa could even pull his own from his pocket.
Back in the apartment, Seonghwa started boiling water while Hongjoong took their outerwear. He was beginning to relax more; the feeling of being caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to was slowly fading as Hongjoong acted normally.
“I’m going to put our stuff away. Do you mind making mine with a little more water?”
Seonghwa nodded as he shrugged off his borrowed coat, handing it to the man easily before he disappeared down the hall. Seonghwa’s eyes stayed stuck on the empty spot where Hongjoong had just been, his focus starting to blur from staring so intently. The silence in the apartment felt enormous. Was he in the clear? The question pulsed in his mind. Could he stay in the clear? Would he be able to keep this a secret and never tell Hongjoong what he knew?
The shame of this knowledge fought with his curiosity. What should he do when everything he saw sent heat coiling low in his abdomen? The thought of Seonghwa wearing that collar he'd seen popped into his mind. He would be so good for Hongjoong. So perfectly obedient. The fantasy bloomed. Hongjoong circling him slowly, possessively, holding the riding crop, letting the leather slowly glide across Seonghwa’s waiting, sensitive skin—
The sudden beep from the kettle ripped him from the daydream, the sound echoing loudly in the quiet kitchen. He shook his head as if it would rid his brain of the thought. He really knew nothing of that lifestyle. He couldn’t be having these specific fantasies about it. He had to stop.
He poured the water, making sure to go over the line for Hongjoong before placing a pair of chopsticks over the paper, letting the heat do its thing. A few minutes later, just as the noodles reached the perfect consistency, Hongjoong left his room. He had changed out of his street clothes and was now only wearing a soft long-sleeved shirt and a pair of athletic shorts.
Seonghwa gestured silently to the bowl on the counter. Hongjoong’s face lit up, a smile spreading across it as he walked over and sat down at the small kitchen table. He tore off the paper lid, the steam clouding his face for a moment. He began mixing the noodles, stirring the seasoning into the broth. "This looks perfect, Seonghwa," he said, his voice soft.
The simple praise went straight to Seonghwa’s gut, a wave of familiar warmth spreading throughout his chest and down to his fingers. He always loved it when Hongjoong complimented him. Even if it was for the smallest, most trivial things, the knowledge that he was responsible for Hongjoong being happy made him happy.
As they ate in silence, the guilt began to bubble back up, but now it was joined by an even more insistent stream of questions. What would Hongjoong say if he knew Seonghwa wanted to try this? The thought was terrifying. Would he offer? Would Hongjoong teach him how to be good? He looked across the table at the man who held the key to a world he only just discovered, his heart hammering against his ribs, unable to stop the torrent of curiosity.
“Seonghwa-yah.”
Seonghwa jolted at the sudden sound of Hongjoong's voice pulling him abruptly from his thoughts. He looked up, meeting a pair of deeply furrowed brows and eyes clouded with concern.
"Are you sure you’re okay? You've been staring at your noodles like they personally offended you for the past five minutes," Hongjoong said, tilting his head slightly. "Was your night with Hyunwoo still bothering you?"
The mention of Hyunwoo made Seonghwa’s stomach clench with annoyance. Honestly, Seonghwa completely forgot about the man entirely. He had much bigger and far more confusing things churning in his mind than the memory of terrible sex.
“It sucked,” Seonghwa said, pushing a few strands of hair away from his face. “I didn’t even get off. He didn’t even try.” He sighed, the sound heavy with disappointment. “I should have just stayed in.”
Hongjoong nodded slowly, a thoughtful expression settling over his features. He blew gently on a tangle of noodles before taking a small bite. “That’s frustrating. You deserved a better night than that.”
“You’re telling me,” Seonghwa grumbled, picking up his chopsticks. He attacked the bowl, scooping up a ridiculously large portion of noodles and taking a massive bite. Half the noodles were gone, and the heat and spice were a welcomed distraction.
“I do have one question for you,” Hongjoong said, setting his chopsticks down and leaning back against the wooden chair. He picked up a napkin and wiped the corner of his mouth. The sudden formality made a chill run down Seonghwa's spine.
Seonghwa looked up at him, the mouthful of noodles still needing a fair amount of chewing. He hummed, trying hard to chew quickly so he could answer properly, sensing the shift in the air. This wasn't about Hyunwoo anymore.
“What,” Hongjoong started, his voice dropping slightly, making the simple word feel charged with accusation, “were you doing in my bedroom?”
Seonghwa started choking on the noodles he’d been slurping, the sudden question from Hongjoong lodging itself in his throat worse than anything else. He slammed a fist against his chest, grabbed his water, and took a gulp to wash the shock away. When his eyes finally cleared, and he looked back, Hongjoong hadn't moved. The man was still leaning back against his chair, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable.
“I— I don’t know what you mean,” Seonghwa managed, his voice a pathetic squeak that betrayed him. He tried to project innocence, but he knew it was a lost cause.
“Are you lying to me, Seonghwa?”
Seonghwa sputtered, grabbing the water glass just to buy himself a small amount of time. His mind raced, scrambling for a believable lie that wasn't already ruined by his own idiotic actions.
“Why else would you be in the hall right next to my door? Did what you see surprise you?” Hongjoong didn't need a confession. He had already convicted Seonghwa.
Seonghwa mentally slapped himself. He was such an idiot. Of course Hongjoong knew. Standing right next to the door, he'd been caught red-handed. “I was looking for a coat, I swear. I mean, I’ve been in your room countless times, I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal.”
“It usually isn’t,” Hongjoong said with a sigh that was more accepting than angry. He slowly uncrossed his arms. “I had just gotten back from my last scene with my sub. I needed to get everything cleaned that I brought back from her apartment before I could sleep. I wasn’t expecting to run into you tonight.”
The information was thrown out like a handful of gravel. Hard, sharp, and too much to process all at once. Sub. Scene. Her apartment. Seonghwa's mind stumbled over the words. “What do you mean, scene?” he asked, the question laced with confusion.
Hongjoong tilted his head, a puzzled expression morphing his features. “With how you were talking with Wooyoung earlier, I thought you knew more about it.”
“No— no, I don’t know,” Seonghwa said. “I barely know anything about… about that in general. I just figured it was… harder sex. You know, rougher.”
Hongjoong nodded slowly, a deep sigh escaping his lips. He looked disappointed, and the sight of that made a wave of shame wash over Seonghwa. He knew the lifestyle was a real thing, but he had never bothered to look beyond the surface-level tropes. “Ah, that makes more sense,” Hongjoong murmured. He stood up, gathering the empty bowl and tossing it in the trash before heading towards his room.
“Wait!” Seonghwa blurted out, the word escaping before his brain could filter the absolute stupidity of the request. “You could always teach me.”
Hongjoong stopped dead in his tracks, pausing right in front of his door. He turned his head just enough to meet Seonghwa's gaze over his shoulder. “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” he said, his tone kind but firm, allowing no room for argument. “If you want to satiate your curiosity, maybe just search it online. Enjoy your day off tomorrow.”
Seonghwa watched as Hongjoong disappeared behind the door. A sliver of light spilled out from underneath as they were flicked on. He really wanted to open that door, to barge in and ask Hongjoong about every single piece of gear he saw laid out on the duvet. Did he use all of it every time? What was his favorite? Was the collar common?
Questions spiraled and multiplied in his head as he mechanically cleaned up his own bowl and utensils, finally leaving and heading for his own apartment a few doors down. When he slipped inside, thankfully, it was quiet. He’d walked in on Wooyoung and San too many times to count at this point, and he’d learned to stay away if he could. Seonghwa took his time getting ready for bed, the shock and curiosity keeping him wide awake. He finally slipped under the covers around five in the morning. Concert season always fucked up his sleep schedule, but tonight it was Hongjoong's secret that had truly destroyed any hope of sleeping.
As he lay there, staring up at the ceiling, his mind wouldn’t slow down. Maybe Hongjoong was right. Perhaps he really should learn more about the BDSM lifestyle. Maybe this was the missing piece he’d been searching for. Maybe it was a connection deeper than the sex he usually tolerated, the kind that was too rough and never respected boundaries, sexual or not. He had always wanted more from physical intimacy, and maybe the answer wasn't just 'harder sex.'
He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and pulled up Naver. He hesitated, having absolutely no idea where to begin, and finally just typed the most basic phrase he could think of: BDSM for Beginners.
The search results were an avalanche. A plethora of resources dedicated to the lifestyle appeared instantly. He was struck by one theme over and over. Every article, every forum post, and every beginner's guide highlighted the importance of communication, respect, and connection. It wasn't just about pain or degradation, it was about trust and shared consent.
The more he read, tapping on every linked article and devouring every word, the deeper his curiosity grew. He was surprised when he learned how psychological the dynamic actually was, and the level of mental surrender and emotional vulnerability that was required. He spent the next hour taking various online quizzes. Each one analyzed his preferences, his natural inclinations, and his underlying desires. The final results were consistent. He fell along the lines of a Service Submissive.
A service submissive was someone who liked to take care of others. Who found joy and gratitude in helping their Dom and making their lives easier. This was something Seonghwa liked to do with everyone. He usually felt like a burden, like he took up too much space, so helping others and proving his worth was something he enjoyed.
He read an article that described service submission as a gratifying exchange. The submissive offers devotion and service, and in return, the dominant provides structure, care, and protection. Care and protection. It felt like the perfect antidote to the emptiness he felt after his unsatisfying hookups.
He had always found a quiet joy in caring for his members, often anticipating their needs before they voiced them. He loved waking up early to cook a meal or organize their chaotic dorm. If someone was feeling down, he was the first to offer a hug or a listening ear. These weren't tasks for him, they were expressions of his devotion. The idea that this natural inclination could be integrated into a sexual dynamic, that his desire to serve could be the core of his pleasure, was mind-blowing.
He clicked on another link, this one leading to a long-form interview with a self-identified Service Sub. The submissive spoke about the mental freedom that came with relinquishing control. The relief of not having to make every decision, of simply following a trusted partner’s direction. Trust. That was the key element missing from his entire sexual history with strangers.
Seonghwa’s mind drifted back to the name that had started all this. Hongjoong.
Hongjoong, who looked at him with gentle understanding when he was stressed. Hongjoong, who instinctively knew when to push and when to pull back. Hongjoong, who offered care without question and whose presence always grounded Seonghwa.
The thought of offering his need to care and serve to Hongjoong made the heat coiling in his abdomen tighten into a knot. It was a terrifying jump from fantasy to reality. The idea was too perfect to ignore.
He slammed his phone down on his nightstand. He had to stop. This was his best friend. His leader. The man who saw him at his absolute worst and never judged. He couldn't risk their friendship on a curiosity born from an accidental peek into a private corner of Hongjoong's life.
But as the first rays of morning light began to creep around the edge of his blinds, the realization settled over him with an undeniable weight. He wasn't just curious about BDSM. He was curious about Hongjoong.
Before he turned over and went to bed, he sent one text to Hongjoong.
What kind of Dom are you?
∘₊✧────✧₊∘
Seonghwa’s eyes fluttered open, the darkness of the room disorienting him. He blinked. He'd slept through his entire day off. A lazy stretch pulled a groan from his chest, his muscles stiff. He reached for his phone and checked the time. He had slept for almost fourteen hours straight.
He scrolled through his notifications, finding a trio of unread messages. His parents had sent the usual well-wishes for his day off. Wooyoung’s message was a little more detailed, informing him that he and San were out to see his mother and that Seonghwa shouldn't bother waiting up for either of them. Then there was Hongjoong’s.
The moment Seonghwa read the first line, he was sitting upright in bed, a sudden rush of blood leaving him dizzy. He had completely forgotten the message he’d sent earlier.
Hongjoongie
Yah!
You can’t just ask people that
I only talk about that with my subs
Seonghwa
But I’m curious ):
The three dots showed up almost instantly, meaning Hongjoong was either in the studio or done for the night.
Hongjoongie
No
Seonghwa sighed as he flopped back onto his pillows with a dramatic huff, staring at the dark ceiling. It wasn't the rejection that stung, but the fact that he was still clueless. He’d spent the hours before he messaged Hongjoong spiraling down a rabbit hole of D/s terminology, specifically trying to categorize himself. He didn't know anything concrete about the types of Doms, and he was dying to know what Hongjoong was, but the man was like a sealed vault.
Seonghwa
Please?
Imagine me pouting
Hongjoongie
How late did you stay up?
Seonghwa winced. Busted.
Seonghwa
……
I feel like that’s not important
Hongjoongie
Park Seonghwa
The use of his full name and the stern tone it implied made him instantly cave.
Seonghwa
I fell asleep right after I messaged you
I was busy researching
I learned what type of sub I probably am.
Obviously I wont know until I’m in the dynamic
He typed the last part quickly, needing to add the caveat before Hongjoong could offer a lecture on the difference between theoretical and real-life experience.
Hongjoongie
What type?
Seonghwa
Guess!
Hongjoongie
Service
Seonghwa’s jaw dropped as he read the message. How did Hongjoong know? How was he able to clock Seonghwa so fast and hard?
Hongjoongie
You like to do things for others
You feel validated when you do
And get upset if you don't get rewarded with a head pat or a good job
Seonghwa felt heat rush to his cheeks. It was true. Embarrassingly true. Hongjoong had just summarized his entire subconscious in just a few sentences, stripping away all the confusing labels and getting straight to the core of his personality. He felt exposed, yet strangely seen. He didn’t know whether to be mortified or amazed.
Seonghwa
How did you know that
Hongjoongie
You’re very easy to read
And I’ve known you for a long time
Seonghwa
How long have you been in the community?
Hongjoongie
Seonghwa-yah
I told you I’m not getting into this with you
Seonghwa pouted as he flipped on his side.
Seonghwa
I just want to learn
Hongjoongie
And I told you to research it
Seonghwa
But you should know that someone getting into bdsm should talk to someone experienced that they trust
The dots showed up and disappeared several times. Seonghwa was about to leave the chat to doomscroll when the reply finally came.
Hongjoongie
Maybe I was wrong
Maybe you’re more of a brat than I thought
Seonghwa felt shame flare up. He never liked disappointing Hongjoong, and for some reason, this felt just like that.
Seonghwa
I’m not a brat
I just want to know how you work
It’s just... curiosity
Hongjoongie
Sure it is
I’m going back to work, Seonghwa. You need to get up and eat something
Seonghwa
Fine
But when you get back, I’m coming over
Hongjoongie
I’ll keep the door locked then
Seonghwa
I know your code
Hongjoong didn’t reply. Seonghwa threw his phone onto the bed. He knew he was being annoying by pushing Hongjoong, but he couldn't stop. He was like a dog with a bone, and this particular bone was named Kim Hongjoong and his knowledge of the community.
He reluctantly dragged himself out of bed and into the kitchen. He ended up just grabbing a banana and a protein shake. As he ate, his fingers automatically pulled up the text thread with Hongjoong again. He reread the last few exchanges, a small smile playing on his lips despite the obvious frustration in Hongjoong’s texts.
The way that Hongjoong instantly knew made his heart flutter.
He knew Hongjoong wasn't going to talk to him about his D/s life over text, especially not about his Dom type. It was too personal. But Seonghwa also knew Hongjoong wouldn’t be able to resist an in-person interrogation, not when Seonghwa brought the full force of his charm to the table.
He spent the next few hours stretching, showering, and cleaning his room. He was feeling physically better, but the mental tension remained. The need to talk to Hongjoong was a hum beneath the surface.
As the middle of the night approached, Seonghwa was pacing his living room.
Finally, a single text came through.
Hongjoongie
I’m home
Don’t be annoying
Seonghwa grinned, victory surging through him.
Seonghwa
On my way
He didn’t wait for a reply. He grabbed a handful of random snacks, which included a bag of chips and a candy bar he knew Hongjoong liked, and made the short walk down the hall.
He typed the code in and the click was loud in the quiet hallway.
Hongjoong was sitting on the couch in the living room, nursing a huge mug of what Seonghwa guessed was some sort of tea. He glanced up as Seonghwa entered, raising a challenging eyebrow.
"I brought peace offerings," Seonghwa announced, holding up the bag of snacks like a shield.
Hongjoong sighed, but a flicker of amusement crossed his face. He patted the cushion next to him. "Come on, then. Sit. And explain to me why you’re suddenly obsessed with my sex life."
Seonghwa sat down quickly, dropping the snacks on the couch right between them. He turned to face Hongjoong fully, leaning forward.
"I’m not obsessed with your sex life," Seonghwa insisted, trying to sound mature, but it came out defensive. "I’m obsessed with finally understanding why I haven’t been satisfied with anyone. And now I have a clue, and you’re the only person I trust who has a practical understanding of it."
Hongjoong took a slow sip of his tea, his eyes never leaving Seonghwa’s. "So what, you want a crash course in BDSM 101 from your best friend?"
"Yes," Seonghwa admitted simply, nodding enthusiastically. "But I’m still curious about your Dom type.”
Hongjoong set his mug down. He leaned back into the corner of the couch, mirroring Seonghwa’s earlier position. The casual position didn't lessen the intensity of his gaze.
"Okay, fine," Hongjoong started, his voice low and measured. "You said you’re Service. Service subs often thrive with a very specific kind of Dom. Not just someone who likes control, but someone who knows how to command that service and receive it gracefully. Someone who understands that your fulfillment comes from making them happy."
He paused, a tiny, almost invisible smirk touching the corner of his lips. "You want someone who is going to give you a detailed to-do list, then reward you for completing it. Someone who takes on the burden of control so you can relax."
Seonghwa hung on every word. "So, what are you?" he pressed, the question a quiet breath of anticipation.
Hongjoong didn’t answer right away. He reached out and casually picked up the candy bar Seonghwa had brought, slowly unwrapping it. He took a bite, and Seonghwa felt happy that he brought it over, keeping everyone's favorite snacks on hand really helped out often.
"I’m a mixture of several. I don’t see myself as just one thing since I like to adhere to what my sub needs," Hongjoong finally said, his gaze fixed on the candy bar. "I’m mainly a Pleasure Dom. I like to make sure that my sub receives, but I also need to have some sort of twenty-four-seven relationship."
Seonghwa blinked. "A mixture?"
"The short version is I’m all about giving structure, rules, and pleasure," Hongjoong explained, shrugging slightly. "It’s less about power plays and more about creating a stable environment where my sub can thrive. I like to lead by helping them meet their own needs." He looked up, his eyes serious. "I like to be needed."
Seonghwa felt the heat return to his cheeks, spreading down his chest.
"The dynamic is based on mutual respect, trust, and my absolute refusal to let my sub harm themselves out of misplaced devotion," Hongjoong continued, his voice softening. "A good Service sub doesn’t just do chores. They need to be useful. I provide the structure that allows them to channel that energy healthily. I take care of them so they can take care of me."
Seonghwa’s mind was spinning. It sounded exactly like the connection he craved.
"You’re… perfect for a Service sub," Seonghwa breathed out, the words escaping him without permission.
Hongjoong swallowed the last of the chocolate. His expression was impossible to read. "I’ve been told that," he murmured, folding the wrapper neatly.
The air between them thickened, charged with the relevance of this conversation. Hongjoong had just described the answer to all of Seonghwa’s unspoken wants.
"I want you to teach me," Seonghwa said, his voice quiet but firm. "I want to learn how to be a good sub."
Hongjoong didn’t look surprised when the words left Seonghwa’s mouth, but his eyes were serious when he looked up.
“No.”
Seonghwa blinked several times. The denial was replaying in his head.
“What do you mean, ‘no’?”
“I mean no. I don’t do one-time scenes, Seonghwa. When I am in contract with my subs, it’s for a long time. I don’t like switching often. I need to know them and understand how they work so I know what to do.”
“But it would be to help me. You know me.”
Hongjoong sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “That’s another issue, isn’t it? Our work wouldn’t allow us to have this sort of relationship.”
“Why not? Didn’t you say you were with a sub yesterday?”
“Yes, but she has been my sub for almost two years. We both agreed we couldn’t do another tour with our dynamic. I felt like I didn’t have time to give her what she needed and vice versa. Plus, she wanted to start seeing someone, and I don’t sleep with anyone in a relationship.”
"So you’re saying you’re not in a contract anymore," Seonghwa countered, ignoring the deeper implications of Hongjoong’s explanation.
Hongjoong just stared at him, an eyebrow arching. "Are you even listening to me? I just broke things off with a sub because I don’t have time to give what’s needed, and you think that means I can start something with you a day later?"
"It would be different with me," Seonghwa pressed, leaning further in, his voice dropping. "We’re already together twenty-four-seven. You already know how I work better than anyone. You just proved it."
"Knowing you is a liability right now," Hongjoong said, his voice flat. He reached out and gently pushed Seonghwa back into the cushions. "We’re best friends, Seonghwa. If we tried this and it went badly, which it probably would, it could fracture everything. Our work, the group, everything."
Seonghwa refused to be deterred. He had finally found a direction, a potential answer to the gnawing dissatisfaction that haunted his late nights. He wasn't giving up on the first obstacle. "But what if it went well? You said you like to be needed. I need this structure. I need the care. I can make your life so easy, Hongjoong. You know I can. I’d be good for you. You wouldn’t have to worry about me going out and finding another Hyunwoo."
The mention of Hyunwoo seemed to strike a chord. Hongjoong’s gaze flickered, a conflict playing out in his expression.
"It's not about being ‘good’ or ‘bad’ for me," Hongjoong said, running a tired hand through his bleached hair. "It’s about stability. I cannot be a Dom to someone who needs 24/7 care and attention when we’re about to go on the biggest tour of our career.”
Seonghwa pouted as he stared at Hongjoong, who groaned and looked away.
“Seonghwa, we can’t. If you want to try this lifestyle, then you’ll need to find someone else.”
“Fine,” Seonghwa said, crossing his arms.
“Don’t pout.”
“I can do what I want,” Seonghwa said as he stood up.
“Yah—”
Seonghwa sighed as he grabbed the bag of chips on the coffee table and put them on the counter; they were Wooyoung’s favorite anyway. “Sorry, Hongjoong-ah, but you can’t tell me not to pout or not. I can do what I want.”
“Please don’t start this. We leave for Japan in two days.”
“I’m not starting anything,” Seonghwa said as he walked to the front door, slipping his shoes back on. “I’m simply going about my day.”
“We both know that is not what you’re doing.”
Seonghwa tilted his head to the side. “Do we?” As Seonghwa walked out, he heard Hongjoong groan from behind him, a smirk forming on his face. He knew he shouldn’t be acting like this. But he saw how the man hesitated, how he kept taking his time to think things through, his excuses being no time and the group. Not that he didn’t want this with Seonghwa, but that he didn’t want to jeopardize their relationship, and for Seonghwa, that wasn’t enough to try something that could be amazing for both of them.
∘₊✧────✧₊∘
The next day at practice, Seonghwa decided to bring everyone's favorite drink and protein bars, stopping by the convenience store before heading into the company. They had a long day ahead of them, and Seonghwa knew most of them didn’t eat breakfast.
On their first break he handed everything out, conveniently keeping Hongjoong’s bar and drink in his bag. Hongjoong looked expectantly at him as Seonghwa sat beside him. Hongjoong looked so good today. Gray sweatpants hung low on his hips, his hair tucked into an Alo ballcap.
Seonghwa sat beside him and pulled out his own drink. Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to prove something?”
Seonghwa’s eyes widened in fake shock. “Oh no, Hongjoongie, I think I forgot yours!”
Hongjoong sighed, rubbing his temples. "You’re being ridiculous."
Seonghwa hummed, taking a slow, deliberate sip of his drink, letting Hongjoong stew. "Am I, though? I got everyone else’s, didn’t I? I’m being a wonderful member." He smiled sweetly.
"You’re doing this on purpose," Hongjoong accused, leaning in close, his voice low. "You’re trying to prove a point."
"What point?" Seonghwa asked, his face a picture of innocence. "The point that I’m a great hyung who makes sure everyone is fed?”
Hongjoong just stared at him for a long moment, the corner of his lip twitching upwards. He grabbed the towel around his neck and wiped the sweat from his face. "Fine. You win this round. Where is it?"
Seonghwa reached into his bag, pulling out Hongjoong's favorite protein bar and energy drink. He held them out with a smile.
Hongjoong hesitated, his eyes flicking from the offerings to Seonghwa’s smug expression before sighing. "Thank you," Hongjoong grumbled, peeling the wrapper from the bar.
"You’re welcome," Seonghwa replied, the smile now genuine. He leaned closer, speaking softly so only Hongjoong could hear. "You know, I could do this all the time. Make sure you never have to think about small things like this. If you let me."
Hongjoong stopped chewing, his eyes widening slightly. "We are not having this conversation here, Seonghwa."
"Why not?" Seonghwa challenged, his voice a whisper. "It’s just an offer of service. A service you clearly accepted." He gestured to the half-eaten protein bar.
Seonghwa watched as Hongjoong swallowed hard, his jaw tight. He took a second to look around the practice room before settling back on Seonghwa. "Stop it. I told you, I don’t want to start something right before the tour."
"And I told you I’d be good for you," Seonghwa countered, pushing just a little harder. "I’m already here. I already want to do this. I don't need you to change your schedule, I just need you to let me be there." He stood up, stretching his arms above his head, hoping the movement brought Hongjoong’s eyes to his waist. "Think about it, Hongjoongie. No more feeling unfulfilled. No more worrying about NDAs. Just us. Just two people who have already put all their faith and respect into each other."
He winked, turning away to join Yeosang and Jongho, leaving Hongjoong sitting there, staring at the protein bar wrapper. Seonghwa hoped that did something.
∘₊✧────✧₊∘
The next few days blurred into a frenzy of last-minute packing and rehearsals before the flight to Japan. Seonghwa used the chaos as his opportunity. He shifted his focus entirely from challenging Hongjoong to quietly providing service.
He started small. Hongjoong’s studio was always open to him, so he started leaving random items he knew Hongjoong would enjoy, like an americano from his favorite cafe, a stack of perfectly labeled and categorized lyric sheets he’d reorganized, or a healthy meal from their favorite take-out spot that he knew Hongjoong hadn't had time to order.
He was silent, never waiting for a thank you, simply ensuring Hongjoong had what he needed.
On the day they were to fly out, all three dorms were a disaster. Seonghwa moved through it with calm efficiency. After he knew he was ready by triple-checking, he checked on San and Mingi, making sure the checklist of important items was present. When he moved to Hongjoong’s dorm, he did the same with Wooyoung and Jongho while he texted Yeosang and Yunho. Knowing that out of everyone, those two were the ones to have already been ready.
Hongjoong was still at the company, doing some last-minute things before they left. Seonghwa knew that the man wasn’t ready and would be scrambling five minutes before they left. He found Hongjoong’s passport tucked under a pile of papers and put it directly into the designated pocket of his carry-on. He made sure Hongjoong’s travel pillow was laid out on his bed and replaced the dead powerbank that was in his bag with one that was fully charged. He untangled the mess of cords that were shoved in the bottom, organizing them and wrapping them up so they stayed that way. He also packed the red speaker Hongjoong brought everywhere, along with his laptop that was still open on his bed, and his MIDI that had a shirt thrown over it.
Once he saw that Hongjoong was packed, he took a little bit of time to throw all the clothes in the hamper and neatly make the bed instead of leaving the duvet messily thrown over it. He hoped that coming back to a clean room would be less stressful for him.
By the time they were in the car to the airport, Hongjoong was noticeably less stressed than usual. Seonghwa was sitting next to him, and as they pulled out onto the road, Hongjoong finally spoke, his voice quiet.
"Thanks for my backpack. That helped a lot.”
"Your external hard drive is in there as well, and I charged your power bank. I also found your AirPods."
Hongjoong was silent for a long moment, a pause that felt weighted with consideration. He turned his head to look at Seonghwa, his expression softer than it had been since their conversation.
"You didn’t have to do that," Hongjoong said, his voice laced with gratitude that made Seonghwa’s chest warm.
"I know," Seonghwa replied, keeping his tone light and noncommittal. "But you had a lot to do. One less thing for you to worry about."
∘₊✧────✧₊∘
The plane ride was long, and they settled into adjacent seats. Most of the members fell asleep quickly, catching up on rest. Hongjoong, however, pulled out his laptop to work. Seonghwa watched him for a while, noticing the deep furrow in his brow as he stared at the screen.
After an hour, Seonghwa reached over and gently took the heavy, noise-canceling headphones off Hongjoong's ears, replacing them with the AirPods. Hongjoong didn't resist the action, looking up at Seonghwa in surprise.
"You’re going to get a headache with those on for the whole flight," Seonghwa whispered, his thumb brushing lightly across Hongjoong’s temple. "These are better for long periods."
Hongjoong lowered his screen, his gaze searching Seonghwa’s face in the low cabin light. He reached up and hesitantly touched the side of Seonghwa’s cheek, his fingers trailing a line of warmth across his skin.
"You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?" Hongjoong asked, his voice barely audible over the hum of the plane. It wasn't an accusation.
Seonghwa leaned forward, his lips barely an inch away from Hongjoong’s. “I really do just want to help you and make your life easier. It doesn’t have to be sexual unless you want it to be.”
“But you would need that,” Hongjoong said, his eyes never leaving Seonghwa’s.
“I would prefer it, yes, but care would be enough for me if that’s all you had time for."
Hongjoong closed his laptop with a quiet snap, the sound loud in the hushed cabin. His hand dropped from Seonghwa’s cheek, moving instead to rest on Seonghwa's thigh, a steady weight.
"I told you I don’t do things halfway," Hongjoong said. "And I told you that my dynamic is built on trust and structure. If I’m going to accept your service, it has to be within a recognized framework. I can’t just let you do things for me without definition, Seonghwa. That’s how resentment builds, and that’s how boundaries get blurred until everything falls apart."
"So, give me a framework," Seonghwa countered, his heart pounding frantically against his ribs. He felt the heat of Hongjoong’s hand through the fabric of his sweatpants. "Give me a rule. Give me something to follow. Just start small."
Hongjoong exhaled slowly, a long, quiet sound of resignation and consideration. His thumb moved subtly, drawing small circles. "You’re relentless," he finally said, a hint of amusement softening his voice.
"Only when I know what I want," Seonghwa said.
Hongjoong looked away for a moment, staring out the tiny window at the endless blue sky, as if searching for an answer there. When he looked back, his eyes were clear and decisive.
“Give me time to think about this without you doing things for me. We can talk after we get back. But I need you not to go out of your way to do extra things during that time.”
Seonghwa felt a pang of sadness hit him square in the chest. “Okay,” he whispered, leaning back in his seat. He was trying really hard not to look or feel like a kicked puppy.
“I’m not upset. And it’s not like I don’t find you attractive; we’ve had this conversation before. I just need to weigh the pros and cons as the leader. As your leader.”
Seonghwa buried his face deeper into his hoodie, the cotton a small comfort against his thoughts. Hongjoong being so open about his feelings wasn’t anything new, but for some reason this conversation was making him very nervous.
They had made agonizingly slow progress over the last few years. Before this, their interactions had been exhausting. Every lingering gaze, every soft touch, every late-night conversation had the tension of two people desperately trying to keep a fragile secret from breaking through the surface. They weren’t masters of maintaining the illusion of a purely platonic friendship, but they tried their hardest to keep feelings out of it.
Everything changed when they were working on MATZ in their hotel. Hongjoong had sat him down to have a serious conversation about what they were doing. They both confessed to having mutual feelings for one another, the dam finally breaking and releasing years of pent-up tension between the two.
Admitting their romantic feelings to each other out loud allowed them to be comfortable with each other. The fear of slipping up or accidentally crossing a line evaporated. They both knew.
They knew that their friendship was more than that. That their bond was deeper and more complex, and the fact that they both felt it was a relief, even if they didn’t act on it. They were able to be closer and to hold this boundary of friendship that they already had, never stepping over it. As the two eldest of the group, they wanted and needed to be there for the others, but now Seonghwa watched the rest of the group, and he had faith in them that they didn’t need their hyungs' help as much as they used to.
“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong said softly, pulling the hoodie down off his face. “Please don’t pout. You know I’m weak against that.”
“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa said, trying to make his face more neutral. “I just don’t like it when you’re upset with me. About anything.”
“I swear I’m not. Not even a little bit. I think it’s cute how much you want this. It makes me think about it seriously as well.”
Seonghwa nodded as he reached out and gently took Hongjoong’s hand from his thigh, intertwining their fingers. "And I know you’ll make the right decision for both of us, whatever it is. Just promise me you won’t forget how much I want to do this for you."
Hongjoong squeezed his hand. "I won’t. Now, seriously, try to sleep. We have a long schedule when we land."
Seonghwa gave a soft, sleepy hum in response, already letting his eyes drift shut. The warmth of Hongjoong’s hand holding his was surprisingly grounding, a small anchor in the chaotic emotional storm he had navigated over the last few days. He felt the tension finally start to drain from his body, his exhaustion pulling him under.
He didn't know when he fell asleep, but he woke up sometime later to a gentle nudge. Hongjoong was leaning over him, his face close, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"Wake up, sleepyhead. We’re about to land."
Seonghwa blinked, the bright lights of the cabin momentarily blinding him. He felt Hongjoong’s hand still holding his, and he squeezed it before letting go. As he stretched, he realized he hadn't slept this deeply in months, even when he slept the entire day away. The absence of anxiety was foreign to him.
"Did you sleep at all?" Seonghwa mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep.
"A little," Hongjoong admitted, rubbing his eyes. "I finished up a track and then dozed off. You look much better."
They prepared for landing in a comfortable silence, the easy companionship settling back over them like a blanket. As the plane touched down and they began the long process of deboarding, the noise and chaos of the tour quickly enveloped them.
∘₊✧────✧₊∘
This was a lot harder than Seonghwa thought it would be.
He was starting to feel the absence of the service he wanted to provide. He kept noticing the small things. The missing AirPods, the misplaced sketchbook, and Hongjoong working too hard.
The urge to step in and smooth the rough edges of Hongjoong’s life was an itching feeling. He tried to fill that urge by hovering over the other members.
After the second concert, they were both back in their shared hotel room, a rarity nowadays. Hongjoong had stripped off his stage clothes and collapsed onto the double bed, face down.
Seonghwa took a shower first and sat down at the desk while he towel-dried his hair, but he kept glancing over. Hongjoong hadn’t moved in almost thirty minutes.
Seonghwa knew he had promised to stop, but this wasn't about service anymore, it was about concern. Hongjoong looked exhausted.
He stood up and quietly walked to the bed. He sat on the edge of the mattress, his weight causing the springs to squeak lightly.
"Hongjoong-ah?" he whispered.
A muffled groan was the only response.
Seonghwa didn’t push. He simply reached out and began to slowly rub Hongjoong’s back, starting at the tense muscles of his shoulder and working his way down his spine. He used firm pressure, searching for the knots that he knew accumulated there after a performance.
"Just relax," Seonghwa murmured.
Hongjoong let out a low moan of relief, the sound vibrating through the mattress. He still didn’t move, but the tension seemed to bleed out of his body under Seonghwa’s hands.
A minute passed in silence, punctuated only by Hongjoong’s deep, even breaths.
"I told you not to," Hongjoong mumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow.
"I know," Seonghwa replied, his hands not pausing. "But you’re going to hurt tomorrow. This isn’t an offer. This is just taking care of my friend. I did this for you all the time during our last tour."
Hongjoong sighed, a longer sound this time. He slowly shifted, rolling onto his back, his eyes finally fluttering open. They were heavy-lidded and dark with exhaustion.
He looked up at Seonghwa, who was still kneeling beside the bed, his hand now resting lightly on Hongjoong’s chest.
"I missed you doing things for me," Hongjoong confessed, his voice barely a breath. He reached up and took Seonghwa’s hand, pulling it down to press a soft kiss to his knuckles.
“It’s been four days,” Seonghwa said, his voice just as quiet. His heart was pounding, and he was sure Hongjoong could hear it.
"I had to know if you were serious and if you could respect a boundary, even if it was a temporary one."
Seonghwa’s heart leaped. "And?"
Hongjoong looked serious again. "You were relentless in the beginning, pushing me when I was vulnerable. That’s something a Dom has to be wary of. But then you backed off when I told you to, and you proved you could put my needs for structure and stability first. You honored the boundary, even when it was clearly difficult for you."
Hongjoong sat up, leaning back against the headboard. "I thought about what you said. About needing structure. About helping each other." He took a deep breath. "And I realized that if you’re going to be a sub, you need clear direction from a Dom you trust. I don’t want you to go and find someone who won’t treat you well and who won’t listen and understand what you need out of this."
He reached out and traced the outline of Seonghwa’s jaw, his gaze intense. "But I’m not someone who will bend the rules. You’ll need to fill out my kink list and we have a lot to discuss. We only both know surface-level things about each other in this dynamic, and we both will be learning about you as we go, since this will be your first official contract.”
"And this won't be a casual thing. It will be a dynamic based on respect, honesty, and safety. Because we work together, those lines can never blur. Our professional lives come first, and this dynamic must support that, not jeopardize it. That means clear roles and boundaries that are non-negotiable." Hongjoong’s voice was firm, leaving no room for Seonghwa to argue.
Seonghwa felt a mixture of emotions: relief, excitement, and care. He nodded quickly, his heart hammering against his ribs.
"I understand," he whispered, his voice trembling slightly. "Whatever you need me to do, I will do it. I want the structure. I want your rules. I won’t let you down."
Hongjoong’s expression softened slightly, a mix of protective tenderness and authority. He squeezed Seonghwa’s hand. "Good. Now, one of my non-negotiable rules is honesty. So, tell me the truth. Did you think I wouldn't notice the way you organized my things every morning?"
Seonghwa couldn't help the wide, relieved smile that spread across his face. "I was really hoping you wouldn't. I was just trying to be a good friend... mostly."
Hongjoong chuckled a low, warm sound that went straight to Seonghwa’s core. He leaned in, his gaze dropping to Seonghwa's lips for a brief, electric moment before meeting his eyes again.
"We are going to take this slow, Seonghwa. We have a full tour ahead of us, and I will give you the time and attention you need to explore this safely. But you need to promise me right now that if the dynamic ever starts to feel like a burden to our work or to you, you will tell me immediately. No matter what your role is, your well-being comes first."
"I promise, Hongjoongie," Seonghwa said sincerely, his fingers tightening around Hongjoong's. "I just… thank you."
"Don't thank me yet," Hongjoong warned, pulling his hand away only to bring it back to cup Seonghwa's cheek again. "We have a lot of rules to establish. But for now, you need rest. You should go to sleep."
That simple command, spoken with such soft authority, sent a dizzying wave of compliance through Seonghwa. He didn't hesitate. He swung his legs back over the side of the bed, already pulling the covers back.
"Yes, Captain," Seonghwa whispered, testing the words on his tongue, a nervous excitement making his breath catch.
Hongjoong froze, his eyes widening, before a slow, possessive smirk curled his lips. The title seemed to settle over him.
"Not yet," Hongjoong corrected, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that promised more than it denied. He leaned over Seonghwa, trailing his thumb across Seonghwa's bottom lip. "We'll save that for when the contract is signed. For now, it’s still just Hongjoong. But... I like the sound of it." He leaned forward, pressing a quick, chaste kiss to Seonghwa’s forehead. "Now, sleep."
Seonghwa melted back into the pillows, a feeling of content washing over him. He was no longer restless. He no longer felt the gnawing emptiness. He was exactly where he needed to be. He was excited to figure out just how this dynamic would change him.