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It was harmless.
Or so he told himself on the days he felt most ashamed.
Being told you were ‘the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen’ would inflate anyone’s ego. It was a compliment that slid slick through his veins and nestled in all the nooks and crannies of his brain. It stuck. It tickled at the back of his thoughts during the most mundane moments and flashed brightly, like neon, when he looked in the mirror after taking the time and effort to get ready for the day.
It was the fact that that comment had only been the start.
Hongjoong was shameless when it came to him. Every time Seonghwa would walk through the door of The Cove, a small restaurant and bar that just happened to be a four-block walk from Seonghwa’s apartment, Hongjoong’s eyes were on him. Compliments would fall, naturally and consistently, from his rather pretty lips. Even if time was short, even if there were other customers Hongjoong needed to serve, the man always found the time for him.
Seonghwa relished in it.
Hongjoong was attractive, himself. With a sharp jawline, long eyelashes, a boyish grin, and an intense pair of eyes that were the color of the bourbon he would pour, Seonghwa’s gaze would follow him as he casually sipped whatever fruity, cold concoction he was in the mood for. Hongjoong was fashionable, androgynous, at times, creative and stylistic with his wardrobe choices in a way Seonghwa admired. Bold, just like his words.
Seonghwa was careful.
He allowed Hongjoong to stare. He allowed Hongjoong to say pretty words. He even allowed their fingers to linger a little too long when Hongjoong would slip him a drink, because Seonghwa liked the attention. He craved the attention. So he would continue to allow these things, with a clear boundary.
Seonghwa would say thank you, but not compliment back. He would dutifully pretend not to notice the phone number scrawled on a napkin. He would artfully change the subject if conversation veered into territories too dangerous to explore. He would choose his words meticulously, carefully, making sure nothing could be perceived as a promise or an invitation.
Because as much as Seonghwa sought out everything Hongjoong was willing to give, Seonghwa, for better or for worse, was already a taken man.
---
Alone.
Again.
Seonghwa leaned his head back on the couch and stared at the ceiling, bored out of his mind. Yejun was working late, again, in another city, again, and wouldn’t be back until Friday evening. The house was spotless and all laundry was done as a result of Seonghwa’s restlessness. He knew there were a million things he could do, ranging anywhere from binging shows on the couch to giving his body a workout at the gym, but, annoyingly, recklessly, the thing he really wanted to do was dress in something eye-catching and walk down to The Cove.
He was immediately ashamed by the thought.
Yejun was a good guy. He was sweet and dependable. He made good money – enough to guarantee Seonghwa would never go without. With a handsome face and a gym membership, Seonghwa had been all over him at the beginning of their relationship. It was love. Yejun was everything, and that’s what led to Seonghwa taking the largest leap of his life at 20-years-old – cutting off his parents to be with him.
It was Yejun who held him through his tears and anger, running a hand through his hair and whispering sweet words that it was going to be okay. And it was okay. It was good. It was great. Even as the passion between them began to fade, Seonghwa told himself that was normal. Even as Yejun started picking up hobbies and habits that Seonghwa couldn’t quite make a connection to, Seonghwa told himself it was good to be their own people. Even as Yejun took on more responsibilities at work and the hours got longer and Seonghwa’s loneliness grew heavier, Seonghwa told himself it was fine because that money allowed them the finer things in life.
It was selfish, to feel ungrateful.
It was pathetic, to seek out validation from a man he hardly knew, working as a bartender at The Cove, who looked at Seonghwa like he really was the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen.
Yejun hadn’t looked at him like that, with heat, with desire, in a long time, even during the times he was actually around.
That’s what made it so tempting, no matter how rapidly his heart would beat in his chest, no matter how riddled with guilt his conscience would be as he fell asleep at night. Seonghwa would never cross the line. He couldn’t. Yet, still, putting himself too close to the fire felt like a very easy way to get burned.
A buzz snapped him out of his thoughts. He swallowed, realizing how dry his throat was. He wondered how long he had sat here, staring off into space, questioning his life choices. It was a concerningly common occurrence lately.
A quick look at his phone showed that Wooyoung had texted him, asking him to call as soon as he was free. Thankful for the distraction, Seonghwa called immediately.
He wasn’t prepared for Wooyoung to be crying.
“H- he broke it off. He left like ten minutes ago,” Wooyoung’s warbled voice explained.
“Where are you?” Seonghwa asked.
Wooyoung had been his friend for years, and in that time, had skipped between a number of relationships that Seonghwa couldn’t count on both hands. Extroverted and wearing his heart on his sleeve, Wooyoung was easy to fall in love with, romantically or otherwise. But he was also impulsive, and flighty, at times, and maybe even a little high maintenance.
Regardless, Seonghwa knew Wooyoung didn’t want this constant jumping from person to person. He craved settling down with one person for forever. This latest guy lasted longer than most of them did, which was probably why Wooyoung was so distraught, sitting on the curb outside of a karaoke bar when Seonghwa found him.
“I’m sorry, Woo. But you know you deserve someone who loves all of you. If he wasn’t that for you, then screw him,” Seonghwa spoke, gently patting Wooyoung’s back as they walked toward Seonghwa’s house. Seonghwa knew Yejun wouldn’t be home, and he didn’t want to leave Wooyoung to wallow home alone by himself.
“That’s easy for you to say,” Wooyoung sniffled. He’d wiped the last of his tears away by now, but his eyes were still red-lined, his shoulders still slumped. “You have someone like Yejun.”
Seonghwa’s heart took a nose-dive into his stomach. The universe was, once again, reminding him how awful of a person he was, to not be grateful for what he had. He forced a smile and continued to try and comfort his friend.
They were going to walk right by The Cove on the way to Seonghwa’s house. Drawing closer, Seonghwa physically tried to keep his gaze straight ahead.
Wooyoung had other plans.
“Hey, let’s get a drink,” Wooyoung suggested, spotting The Cove himself.
“I don’t think alcohol is a good idea right now,” Seonghwa tried. He hoped he looked concerned. He hope he looked stern. He hoped he looked anything but the way he actually felt – terrified.
“I won’t get shit-faced. I promise. I just… want something to take the edge off,” Wooyoung said. Seonghwa knew he was defeated the moment Wooyoung turned those sad eyes on him. He knew, but… a war raged within him, regardless. It was Wednesday night. Seonghwa knew Hongjoong worked Wednesdays. Maybe they could get a table instead of sit at the bar. Maybe Hongjoong would leave him be if he saw that Seonghwa was with someone.
Seonghwa was as good with ‘maybe’s as he was at snuffing out his urge to seek out Kim Hongjoong.
The jitters grew tenfold when Wooyoung made a beeline for the bar without question. Seonghwa helplessly followed, and just as helplessly, met Hongjoong’s eyes before they even sat down. That warm gaze was something familiar, as was the impish grin that curled his lips up at the corners in the most infuriatingly attractive way. Seonghwa would usually indulge in that look, in that attention on him, but that urge was muted tonight. Not gone. Never gone. But restrained, because Wooyoung was settled at his side.
Hongjoong noticed this, too, just seconds later, eyes flicking from Seonghwa to Wooyoung and back again, a subtle surprise lining his expression. Seonghwa had never ventured into The Cove with anyone at his side. It had been his own little secret haven, one he sought when he was a little too in his own head, or a little too stressed, or a little too lonely. He was suddenly struck with the thought that he didn’t want to share it, that he should have been more firm with Wooyoung before he had waltzed in here, maybe offered another solution like grabbing a bottle or two from a store and bringing it home. But there was no going back when Wooyoung was waving Hongjoong down.
“Hi! Please tell me you can make me a strong Sidecar,” Wooyoung greeted, leaning over the counter.
“A regular Sidecar,” Seonghwa intercepted sharply, sending Wooyoung a look. Wooyoung pouted at him.
“Fine,” Wooyoung agreed.
“I can do that. Sugar on the rim?” Hongjoong asked, to which Wooyoung enthusiastically said please. Hongjoong’s attention was on Seonghwa, then, and it was a strange thing, to want to soak up that attention while acting unaffected. There was a certain twinkle in those deep brown eyes, a certain tick of his eyebrow that Seonghwa was well versed in. “And you, beautiful?”
He never missed a beat. Seonghwa felt heat creeping up the back of his neck. It wasn’t only the honeyed words or the fact that Hongjoong was attractive. It was also the unwavering fascination. Seonghwa knew Wooyoung was easy on the eyes, as were many others who came looking for an escape in the form of socialization and a few drinks. Yet, he’d never once bared witness to Hongjoong shamelessly flirting with anyone but him, even after Seonghwa had left phone-number-scrawled napkins on the bar twice, and even after being subjected to swiftly steered conversations and a lack of reciprocation. Still, maybe there was something to be said about the fact Seonghwa kept coming back, and therein lied the problem.
Especially right now, with Wooyoung staring daggers into the side of his face.
“A Pina Colada, please,” Seonghwa answered. His smile was most certainly stiffer than it would normally be. Hongjoong either didn’t notice, or didn’t comment on it. Instead, he told them their drinks would be ready shortly, and walked a few steps down the bar to retrieve what he needed.
“Oh my God. Someone needs to hit on me like that,” Wooyoung bemoaned.
“You’ve been single for like an hour. Slow your roll,” Seonghwa advised.
“Seonghwa, I love you, but I need you to be my friend right now, not my mom,” Wooyoung whined. Seonghwa was only mildly offended.
“And I need you to be my friend and stay true to your promises. You literally told me, before we came in here, that you wouldn’t get shit-faced, and the first thing you do is tell the bartender to make an already strong drink stronger?” Seonghwa asked, nudging Wooyoung’s arm with his elbow. Wooyoung nudged him back on principle.
“Yeah. Sorry. Too much, again,” Wooyoung murmured, deflating. Seonghwa felt his heart constrict.
“Is that what he said?” Seonghwa asked gently. It wasn’t a new concept, for men to tell Wooyoung he was just ‘too much’. Too loud, too clingy, too bold, Seonghwa had heard them all before.
“He implied it. Along with telling me someone else had caught his interest,” Wooyoung answered bitterly. A quiet rage brewed within Seonghwa, aimed at this man he’d only met a handful of times, but who had so clearly and effectively planted negative and self-doubting thoughts in his best friend’s head. On instinct, Seonghwa wrapped his hand around Wooyoung’s and gave it a squeeze.
“He doesn’t understand what he gave up,” Seonghwa replied. He meant the words with his whole heart, and he hoped Wooyoung knew that. It was heartbreaking, the smile that Wooyoung gave him, a smile that showed the words didn’t quite heal but were appreciated, and it was a smile none-the-less.
“Here you go.”
A drink slid in front of Wooyoung, golden liquid sloshing under the sugared rim. Registering it, Seonghwa retracted his hand from Wooyoung’s as if he were burned, jerking his head a little too quickly to look at Hongjoong, just a few feet away on the other side of the bar. Hongjoong was already looking at him, sliding the Pina Colada over as well.
“I know you like the cherries, so I gave you a few extra,” Hongjoong said. The words were accompanied with a wink, and then the man was moving away, to the far end of the bar, blissfully unaware of the chaos in Seonghwa’s mind. He realized, with growing apprehension, that he’d been worried his hand in Wooyoung’s was incriminating, that it was going to cause a misunderstanding that he was taken. All the flirting, the attention, the compliments, they would go away if Hongjoong thought that, right?
It struck another cord all together to grasp that it would be no misunderstanding, because, while not by Wooyoung, Seonghwa was, with glaring certainty, with a shared lease and matching coffee cups and three years under their belt, a taken man.
“Wait, he knows you?” Wooyoung asked. Seonghwa tore his gaze from Hongjoong’s back to meet Wooyoung’s furrowed brows. Once again, he wished he’d acted sooner to keep this place to himself.
Once again, shame danced across his skin.
“I’ve been here a few times,” Seonghwa admitted. His hands found the glass in front of him, cool to the touch. Three bright red cherries sat atop the whipped cream, their red juice creating small pink pools. How many times had he been here, really, for Hongjoong to notice he loved the cherries?
“Is he always that flirty? You should tell him you have a dreamboat back home,” Wooyoung commented. Not even the creamy, cold sip of his drink could stop the dark, festering thing in his chest. Seonghwa glanced at Hongjoong to make sure he couldn’t overhear.
“I’d like it if the dreamboat were home more often,” Seonghwa commented.
“Wait, is everything okay with you two?” Wooyoung asked. Seonghwa debated the question. There wasn’t anything he could pinpoint, not exactly. If there was anything that wasn’t okay, it was Seonghwa himself. But what was he even doing?
“Ah, yeah. Just feeling a little lonely with him gone, you know?” Seonghwa replied, as nonchalantly as he could. He plucked a cherry from his drink and nibbled on the fruit. “But we’re fine. How’s your drink?”
It was a pathetic attempt at diverting the conversation, one that was too obvious to Wooyoung.
“Delicious, but no, let’s talk about Yejun! How often is he gone? He works in sales, doesn’t he?” Wooyoung asked. Seonghwa shifted in his seat, letting the cherry stem fall from his fingers before going for another cherry.
“Wooyoung. Tonight is about you, not me,” Seonghwa reminded. It was like insult to injury. How could he bring up his own relationship problems when Wooyoung had just been crying over a breakup less than an hour ago? Seonghwa already felt like shit about where his thoughts had been heading lately. He didn’t need to add how he was a shitty friend to those thoughts. Plus, out in public, especially here, was not the place to discuss his relationship with Yejun. With his lips around the cherry, he dared a glance across the bar. Something electric buzzed under his skin when he caught Hongjoong already looking at him. Thankfully, the bartender was still keeping his distance, but he offered a ghost of a bashful grin, a quiet admission to staring now that he was caught. Seonghwa snapped the cherry from its stem and chewed, turning back to Wooyoung. “Tell you what. We’ll finish these drinks, and then we’ll do a movie marathon. You pick. Whatever you want.”
Wooyoung’s eyes widened in interest.
“You hate Pretty Woman,” Wooyoung said suspiciously.
“Whatever you want,” Seonghwa reiterated. Wooyoung narrowed his eyes to slits.
“Deal,” Wooyoung said with relish, before a huge grin overtook his features. “I’m going to pick all the super romantic classics! Remind me of what I deserve!”
Seonghwa laughed at his enthusiasm. He knew the happiness was at the surface level, hiding a newly tender heart, but it was a start. It was all Seonghwa could do for now. It also distracted Wooyoung from anymore Yejun talk.
They sipped their drinks, yapping away about this and that, until Seonghwa noticed Wooyoung wasn’t exactly ‘sipping’.
“Yah. Savor it,” Seonghwa warned.
“It’s really good! I don’t even realize how fast I’m drinking it.”
“Somehow, I don’t believe you.”
“I’m not going to get drunk. Not unless this guy really did make it strong.”
He nodded his head at Hongjoong, who had ventured to their side of the bar, catering to a woman who had sat a bar stool over. Even though he was making a drink for someone else, Hongjoong must have heard the comment.
“I promise I gave you the usual. More advantageous, anyway. You’re more likely to buy a second drink,” Hongjoong commented smoothly.
“You’re not buying a second drink,” Seonghwa told Wooyoung before he could even try.
“I knooow. I don’t want one anyway. You promised me a movie marathon! I want to get out of here!” Wooyoung announced, proceeding to take another big gulp. Seonghwa reached over and whacked him in the head. Wooyoung gurgled, swallowed, and gasped. “Abuse!”
Seonghwa just grinned around his straw.
“… you can take the glasses, if you want,” Hongjoong said. Seonghwa was suddenly very aware of the fact the bartender was leaning over the bar, head dipped as low as his voice, as if he were sharing a secret. He was standing between the stools Seonghwa and Wooyoung were sitting on, but his attention was on Seonghwa.
“… what?” Seonghwa questioned. It was the first time he noticed how long Hongjoong’s eyelashes were.
“You’re a regular here. I trust you’d bring them back to me?” Hongjoong asked with a shrug. It wasn’t something he should be offering. Just the fact he was trying not to be overheard was proof of that. It felt like an offer only given to Seonghwa because he was special. He was an exception. He was someone Hongjoong was trying to impress.
It was incredibly charming.
“Seriously? He will definitely bring them back!” Wooyoung answered for him. He stood and wrapped an arm around Seonghwa’s with a tug. “Movie marathon! Let’s go!”
Seonghwa let himself be pulled into a standing position.
“You’re sure?” Seonghwa asked, hesitant. To accept such a thing felt like he was crossing the line that he’d desperately drawn for himself. Receive, but never give back. Never encourage. This threatened to open a new door, one where he owed Hongjoong for something.
“Go ahead,” Hongjoong encouraged, gesturing toward the glasses. He looked at Wooyoung, chiming in with a “Enjoy your movies!” before his gaze made its way, as it always did, back to Seonghwa. “Have a good night, gorgeous.”
The temperature of Seonghwa’s cheeks was the antithesis of the cold drink in his hand. He was thankful when Wooyoung said nothing, too sold on the idea of Seonghwa suffering through his favorite movies, and they made their exit.
---
When Seonghwa stirred awake, it was from a gentle shake to his shoulder. The sheets were cool where they pooled around him. He was in the same spot as last night, where he and Wooyoung had gotten through three movies and plenty of conversation. Wooyoung was also in the same spot, spread a bit like a starfish, sound asleep.
… sound asleep?
Seonghwa fought through his grogginess, sure that someone had shaken his shoulder.
“… Yejun?” The name slipped between his lips in disbelief. His boyfriend, who wasn’t supposed to be back until Friday, was standing beside their bed, one eyebrow raised.
“Morning,” Yejun greeted. He cast a look behind Seonghwa. “Never imagined finding you in our bed with another man, and yet…”
After a heartbeat, Seonghwa groaned.
“Shut up. It’s Wooyoung,” Seonghwa said. He turned and pushed himself up into a seated position. Haphazardly, he ran his fingers through his unruly hair. “How are you home?”
Yejun grinned.
“Plans changed. We got to leave early, and now there’s a company dinner on Friday night. You’re free, right?” Yejun asked. Seonghwa blinked.
“You want me to come to a company dinner?” Seonghwa asked. He’d had nothing to do with Yejun’s job since he first got the promotion over a year ago. He’d brought him a homemade lunch to his new office and didn’t get to stay long until Yejun was pulled out of the room.
“You have to come to this one,” Yejun insisted. He knelt beside the bed, wrapping his hands around Seonghwa’s arms with bright eyes. “I have a surprise for you.”
A surprise? At a company dinner? More than likely, he got another promotion. Heaven knew he gave enough of himself to that company to manage it, even with one already under his belt a little more than a year ago.
“I’m free,” Seonghwa agreed. Yejun’s answering grin showed off his teeth.
“Perfect,” Yejun said. He leaned forward and left a kiss on Seonghwa’s forehead. “Now, I was on a plane overnight and I feel gross. I’m going to take a shower. He’ll be gone, right?”
Seonghwa looked over his shoulder, amused that Wooyoung was sleeping through their whole conversation.
“If he’s okay. Taeyang broke up with him last night,” Seonghwa explained.
“Another one?” We both know he’ll be fine and on to the next before we know it,” Yejun snorted. Something sharp and fiery, protective, pinched at Seonghwa’s nerves before it frizzle out. Wooyoung had a track record. Not everyone understood him the way Seonghwa did.
“Go take your shower,” Seonghwa voiced, making a show of shooing him away. Yejun gave him a mock salute and Seonghwa quietly observed as he collected his clothes and shut himself in the bathroom, then rolled over in bed to shake Wooyoung awake.
“… no,” was Wooyoung’s first whiny word.
“Yes. Wake up,” Seonghwa replied, with a more insistent shake.
“Did you make waffles?”
“What? No.”
“Then why should I get up?” Wooyoung muttered. His shoulders stilled when the sound of the running shower hit his ears. He lifted his head, eyebrows furrowed and hair reminiscent of a bird’s nest. “Why is the shower running?”
Seonghwa caught him up to speed and got them both out of bed. He excused himself to use the second restroom down the hall.
It was a shock to walk back in the bedroom to see Wooyung going through Yejun’s suitcase.
“What are you doing?” Seonghwa asked, alarmed. Wooyoung didn’t even look up, continuing his rummaging.
“You won’t share everything with me, but you’re worried about Yejun being gone a lot, right? I just wanted to check for anything shady. Cheaters fucking suck,” Wooyoung spat.
“You didn’t tell me Taeyang cheated on you,” Seonghwa said softly.
“He told me he was interested in someone else. Close enough,” Wooyoung grumbled. Hongjoong came to Seonghwa’s mind, unbidden, and it was like a blow to the chest. No. He wasn’t interested in Hongjoong. He was interested in the attention, lured by the companionship on lonely nights, drawn in by the feelings it invoked to be so shamelessly put on a pedestal. It didn’t have to be from Hongjoong. It could be from anyone, because Seonghwa was just that pathetic.
A little shaky, Seonghwa drew closer.
“Get out of his things,” Seonghwa said, with more authority than he felt. Wooyoung stopped moving, and Seonghwa thought he was just following Seonghwa’s order, but then a giant grin ran across his lips.
“Oh, Seonghwa. I really don’t think you need to worry,” Wooyoung said. He lifted his hand out of the suitcase, shoving it in the air toward Seonghwa. There was a square jewelry box in it. Seonghwa blinked, not comprehending, so Wooyoung enthusiastically continued. “He wants to take you out on Friday night because he has a surprise for you? And then I find a ring in his suitcase? Come on!”
Seonghwa’s eyes widened when he finally understood what Wooyung was getting at. Disbelief bloomed and then wilted. Why did his first instinct want to reject the thought? They’d been together for three years. They lived together. They loved each other. Marriage would be a logical next step.
But…
The sound of the shower cutting off broke the moment. Panic surged up to Seonghwa’s throat.
“Put it back!” Seonghwa hissed. Wooyoung looked just as panicked, this time, hurriedly putting things back the way they were and zipping up the suitcase.
By the time Yejun emerged from the bathroom, Seonghwa had sent Wooyoung off with a hug and a promise that he’d be a call away if Wooyoung needed him.
“What I need is for you to text me on Friday night. I don’t care how late it is!” Wooyoung had said, his excitement palatable.
Seonghwa silently spiraled until Yejun insisted they make lunch together. It was not unwelcome, the way Yejun was in a such a positive mood. He was playful throughout the day, a hand always touching Seonghwa’s arm, shoulder, lower back, hair… they were laughing together, and Seonghwa’s stomach was full of butterflies for the first time in a long time. This was what he missed. This reminded him of how things were at the start. This was how he decided Yejun was the one he wanted. Like this, he could forget all the nights alone. He could forget the way their hobbies had strayed apart. He could forget the unkept promises and fading chemistry and his own self-pitying thoughts and just be in the moment with someone he cared for.
Someone who was going to ask Seonghwa to marry him.
It still seemed surreal after hours passed, after Yejun was sound asleep in bed and Seonghwa sat in the kitchen, staring at the glasses from The Cove, sitting innocently upside down where they’d been left to dry. Guilt festered, hammered, against his very soul.
What was he doing? What had he been thinking?
Yejun was comfortable. Yejun was safe. Yejun was who he’d left his parents to be with, who he had built a life around. No relationship was perfect. He was so incredibly selfish, to even entertain someone else’s attention.
He wouldn’t go back to The Cove. He vowed it then, to himself, in his kitchen at midnight. Wooyoung could bring the glasses back if he wanted to.
Seonghwa was content with the way things were. It had to be enough.
---
The company dinner was a lively affair. Seonghwa had always been fond of dressing up, and this had given him a perfect excuse. He’d dug out the cream-colored cashmere sweater he’d worn on their first date and paired it with sleek black slacks. Hair cream had added some volume and waves to his hair. Yejun hadn’t complimented him, hadn’t shown any recognition regarding the shirt, but like yesterday, a touch followed Seonghwa where ever he went. Even now, Yejun’s arm was slung over the back of Seonghwa’s chair. Seonghwa loved the constant acknowledgment. He was grateful for the grounding presence, because he knew absolutely no one else at the table. At most, he caught some names he had heard Yejun mention in passing. They were clearly comfortable with each other though, sharing jokes and conversation through dinner and, even now, when they were waiting on dessert.
“Hey, shouldn’t we get champagne to go with dessert? We’re going to be celebrating, right?” One of the men said, sending an exuberant, expectant look Yejun’s way. He clearly knew something the rest of them didn’t, and Seonghwa’s heart raced at the way Yejun’s chest puffed out. There were curious replies from around the table, gestures that were fishing for information.
They worked.
“Well, I wasn’t going to do this until after dessert, but,” Yejun started. He took a fork and clanged it against his drink, even though he already had everyone’s attention. Then, he stood up, smiling at the table before turning that smile on Seonghwa. Seonghwa smiled back, trying to breathe around the flurry of nerves overtaking his lungs. “Doyun kind of opened a can of worms, there, so it’s only polite if I follow through.”
Unbidden, thoughts spun in Seonghwa’s head.
He wished they were at home, instead of in public.
He hoped the affection Yejun had showed him yesterday would happen more often than not.
He wanted to be a better person, a better friend, a better partner, and he would work hard to do that by being grateful for everything he had in his life.
He believed this is what he wanted. Anything else was inadmissible. There was no room left for doubt.
“As of the end of this month,” Yejun began, pausing for dramatic effect. He was positively beaming when he continued, “my new title will be ‘Head Director of Oh and Sim Associates in Seoul!”
A burst of cheers rose up around the table, loud and rambunctious, but it was only background noise to Seonghwa’s ears. The promotion was expected – it was Seonghwa’s first thought when Yejun brought up a surprise at a company dinner. But one word stood out.
Seoul.
They didn’t live in Seoul-
“Seonghwa,” Yejun said. It broke through the clouds in Seonghwa’s head, and he focused on Yejun, who was… not getting down on one knee, but instead, sitting back down and digging for something in his pocket. What he produced wasn’t a ring box, but a small, silver key. “I already bought a condo. Ninth floor, breathtaking views, in walking distance from a bunch of restaurants and stores. You’ll love it. I want you to come with me.”
Seonghwa’s lips parted, but no words came. His limbs felt frozen, a complete contradiction to the way his thoughts and emotions tangled chaotically together in angry knots inside him. Confusion, disbelief, shock, embarrassment, offense, sadness, incredulity, rage, and emotions Seonghwa couldn’t even give a name to… he felt them all, strongly, and all at once. His thoughts bounced around in ricochets, every hit making cracks in the carefully crafted box that was his and Yejun’s relationship.
How dare he care more about his job than Seonghwa?
How dare he not see the amazing person that Wooyung had always been?
How dare he become a person who uses affection as a weapon to butter Seonghwa up when he wants something?
How dare he make such a huge decision, like moving to a new city, without consulting Seonghwa?
How dare he announce such a big thing and put Seonghwa on the spot in front of so many strangers?
How dare he not notice the care Seonghwa had put in, to wear something that was supposed to be special, sentimental, to them?
How dare he make Seonghwa feel so contrite, like such a horrible person, for doubting them, for questioning what they had, for wanting love, affection, appreciation, from someone, anyone-
“What about the box?” The words were out before he could even register them. Yejun had lost his smile, throwing apprehensive looks at the rest of the group, who had also gone silent at Seonghwa’s lack of reaction. At the look of confusion, Seonghwa pushed on. “Blue box. About this big. Had the initial ‘T’ on the top.”
Seonghwa saw the moment recognition sparked in Yejun’s eyes. He grabbed at the end of his sleeve.
“My new cufflinks?” Yejun asked, clearly uncomfortable and trying very hard not to glance at their company anymore than he already had. He dropped his arm and leaned closer. “Are you okay?”
Seonghwa almost laughed at the question.
Cufflinks.
Not a ring.
He was never going to ask Seonghwa to marry him. He had bought himself a present to celebrate his success, his big announcement, his surprise.
Despite feeling like he was moving through molasses, Seonghwa reached out, his fingers gripping the sleeve of Yejun’s button-up.
“Come with me,” Seonghwa spoke, grabbing hold of the jacket lying over the back of his chair with his free hand. He didn’t want to be here, in front of all these eyes, anymore. Unlike Yejun, he wouldn’t blindside anyone with an audience, even though a vengeful, hurt part of him thought the other deserved it.
The restaurant was pretty crowded, so Seonghwa sought what little privacy he could get in the small hallway leading to the restrooms.
“That was… really awkward,” Yejun said once they faced each other, looking lost. He reiterated, “Are you okay?”
“I haven’t been okay for a while,” Seonghwa answered honestly. The words felt freeing to admit. Liberating. They gave Seonghwa the courage to keep going. “Yejun, I’ll be honest. I don’t have the words I need right now. I promise, I’ll get to a point where I’m able to accurately express everything that’s happening inside me right now, and when I do, I’ll write it all down for you. I’ll give you closure. Right now, there’s only one thing I’m sure about. I’m not going to Seoul with you. This, us, is over.”
His throat was tight. Yejun’s jaw was low, proving he was utterly flabberghasted.
“… I don’t understand…?” Yejun spoke, his voice small and his eyes sad in a way that tugged at Seonghwa’s heart, despite it all. This was a man he’d loved.
The past tense of that statement made the moment all the more real.
“I know you don’t,” Seonghwa said softly. Maybe Seonghwa could help him understand later, but that moment was certainly not now. “Congratulations on your promotion. Truly. You’ve got a lot going on for you. You don’t need me.”
“But-”
Seonghwa was grateful Yejun cut himself off after a pointed look. He shrugged on his coat.
“I’m going to leave. You can tell everyone that I wasn’t feeling well,” Seonghwa said.
“Now wait. I drove you here. How are you going to get home? Seonghwa?”
Seonghwa didn’t answer. He couldn’t bring himself to listen to anymore. The urge to leave, to get away, was too intense. If he stayed, he wasn’t sure if he would hug Yejun or strangle him, or both, and it was too taxing on his weary heart.
It wasn’t that he was second-guessing himself. He’d never experienced such crystal clear clarity in his life. It was the shock of precipitancy. It was the pieces of reality that were falling into place – where was he going to live? How would they split things? Could Seonghwa support himself on his salary alone? He’d gone from living with his parents to living in the dorms at college to living with Yejun. He’d never lived alone before. How would he handle that?
Thoughts like this propelled his body forward, even as the cold air bit into the tips of his ears and nose. There was a buzz in his pocket. Seeing Yejun’s name was like something gripping his chest, so he hastily shut off his phone. It reminded him that Wooyoung was waiting on a text from him, expecting his best friend to be engaged.
He turned off his phone.
What would Wooyoung think about all this?
He’d probably react much like Yejun had. Shocked. Say he didn’t understand. But Seonghwa did understand. That understanding grew as he continued to wander the streets, dry-eyed.
He should be crying. Yet, even with the amount of uncertainty on the horizon, Seonghwa couldn’t find it in himself to shed a single tear. He felt free. His shoulders felt lighter than they had in quite a while.
Yejun wasn’t what he wanted, and he could finally be honest with himself about it.
He took a deep breath in, the icy air fresh in his lungs. Aware enough since he first left the restaurant, he registered his body was shivering. The clothes on his body were certainly adequate for the weather, so he wondered exactly how long he’d been roaming around in a daze. He looked up from the sidewalk, taking note of his surroundings. It wasn’t smart, he noted, to be walking around alone, so aimlessly, at night. But his subconscious must have been playing a role, because his surroundings looked familiar.
Too familiar.
His feet slowed when his eyes caught sight of a business he was well-acquainted with.
The Cove.
A short, disbelieving laugh escape between his cold lips. Of all places, his feet had carried him here. It was late by now. The ‘closed’ sign on the door provided proof of that. Yet, a light was still on inside. The tilt of his lips flattened when he caught movement, and a tug at his soul had him looking both ways before crossing the street.
The sight of Hongjoong beyond the glass brought familiar feelings. Joy. Comfort. Desire.
Guilt.
But now, that guilt didn’t have a place to stand. It was suffocated, smothered, under the realization that Seonghwa was a free man. That awareness made his emotions roar in his ears and prickle along the skin of the hand he raised to knock, swiftly but firmly, on the glass window of The Cove’s front door.
Hongjoong had always been easy to read. In the seconds before Hongjoong’s eyes met Seonghwa’s, as he looked up at the noise, Seonghwa could tell he was annoyed. He was ready to shoo away whoever was clearly ignoring the blatant ‘closed’ sign on the door. Maybe it was pompous of him, but Seonghwa was confident Hongjoong wouldn’t wave him off. He was too enamored.
Seonghwa knew the feeling all too well.
It was a powerful thing, to avow that to himself without feeling chained down.
Hongjoong’s eyes widened when he registered Seonghwa. Then, they flickered away as Hongjoong set something down and made his way around the bar. Seonghwa’s heart pounded a little harder with every step Hongjoong took toward him, until the lock was being unlatched and the door was opened.
“… well, hi, stranger,” Hongjoong greeted with a grin. Something warm, molten, spread through Seonghwa’s chest. That handsome face, that melodic tenor, so close, turned his desire into something reckless, something that pressed against his very core.
“… hi,” Seonghwa answered. He took another look around the place. “Are you the only one here?”
Hongjoong raised a brow.
“Yeah. I was just closing up. Is everything okay?” Hongjoong asked, his eyes darting up and down, as if looking for a reason Seonghwa was there. Maybe he was expecting Seonghwa to have the glasses he’d yet to return. That should be the reason Seonghwa was back at The Cove.
“Can I come in?” Seonghwa asked instead of answering his question. The raised brow furrowed.
“Uh, sure,” Hongjoong said, taking a step back and holding the door open, inviting, as he’d always been. Seonghwa took a step forward, helplessly pulled in, as he’d always been.
Seonghwa was vaguely aware of the rattling bells above them as the door slowly came to a close. His feet didn’t stop, kept shuffling forward, as if being pulled by magnetic force, until he had Hongjoong’s smaller body crowded against the back of a booth and an openly shocked expression staring up at him.
He did what he’d been dying to do for months, pressing his lips to Hongjoong’s, as if he couldn’t physically stop himself, couldn’t wait any more. There was a soft sound that Seonghwa swallowed with a tilt of his head, with a drag of his lips, with steady fingers digging into the nape of Hongjoong’s neck. The lips beneath his own were shaky, unsure, but were beginning to respond when Seonghwa cut the kiss short and pulled back. He stayed close, hovering, blown pupils observing the flutter of Hongjoong’s eyelashes as he blinked open his eyes, the flush of his cheeks, the way his tongue darted out to lick his lips.
Seonghwa was lost to the way those eyes always took him in with heated reverence.
“Do you still think I’m the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen?” Seonghwa asked, low and warm between them. Hongjoong’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, eyes darting across Seonghwa’s face. Even surprised, Hongjoong was undeniably attractive. Everything about the man in front of him lit something deep within him that hadn’t been aflame in so long.
“… of course,” Hongjoong finally answered. Seonghwa smiled, satisfied.
“Good,” Seonghwa answered, before capturing Hongjoong’s lips in another kiss. He still hesitated, for seconds, before hands found the curve of Seonghwa’s waist and Hongjoong’s mouth was leaning in to the push and pull, kissing back with intention. Seonghwa hummed at the attention, at the acceptance. He chased more, pressing his tongue at the seam of Hongjoong’s lips until he was licking into his mouth.
Hongjoong made a sound, something low and sweet. Seonghwa chased that sound, determined to keep hearing it, as they continued mapping each others’ mouths. Hongjoong’s hands were scorching on his waist, especially when they started to roam. They slid around and down, slow but purposeful, until they groped at the bottom of Seonghwa’s ass. Seonghwa moaned at the move, spurring those hands to tighten and pull Seonghwa forward, melding their bodies together. There was a hitch in their breaths when their lower halves met, evidence of arousal clear. Seonghwa was dizzy with want, with the love of being wanted, with the need to make up for all the lost time. He rolled his hips, unashamed, seeking the friction that sent sparks behind his eyelids and Hongjoong’s fingers digging into his ass.
“Fuck,” Hongjoong gasped, thumping the back of his head against the booth. The break in their kiss allowed Seonghwa to open hazy eyes, trailing them down the prominent cords of Hongjoong’s neck, down to the vest he wore over his fitted tee. Seonghwa’s fingers flew to the buttons of that vest, working, as his face grew hotter from their grinding. It was when he got them unbuttoned that he felt Hongjoong’s still, the hands pulling him against Hongjoong circling around to hold Seonghwa’s own. “Not that I’m… not enjoying this, but..” Hongjoong said, a bit breathless and a bashful grin on his face. His eyes flickered away from Seonghwa and back again. “… this is getting voyeuristic pretty quickly.”
It took Seonghwa’s keyed up mind a few seconds to catch on. He glanced at the door, their location sinking in. Of course. There were large windows along the front of The Cove. Anybody walking by could look in and see them, just as he’d looked in and noticed Hongjoong was still at work.
“Does this place have a back room?” Seonghwa asked. He watched, amused, as Hongjoong’s little grin fell.
“Seriously?” Hongjoong croaked, adorably flustered. He ran a hand through his hair, messing up the strands, looking conflicted. “I mean, yeah. Let me just… lock this up again.”
Seonghwa stepped aside to allow Hongjoong access to the front door. The disbelief was palatable. Seonghwa understood, but he didn’t allow himself time to stop and think. He’d done so much thinking, so much planning, and it’d all blown up in his face. He was going to ride this high, this desire, until this restlessness in his chest was at a simmer.
The back room he was led to was small and crowded with boxes of various alcohol, a space behind the bar for restocking purposes.
“It’s a little cramped in he- oh my God,” Hongjoong said, the latter part a panicked whisper. They’d only taken a few steps in before Seonghwa sank to his knees and reached for the button of Hongjoong’s jeans.
“Can I?” Seonghwa asked, looking up beneath his eyelashes. Hongjoong almost looked like he was in pain.
“I feel like I should get more clarity, here, but I’m only a man,” Hongjoong groaned, bringing a smirk to Seonghwa’s face.
“A man with a thing for me,” Seonghwa hummed, working his fingers to unbutton and unzip.
“Yeah, well, look at you,” Hongjoong replied, bottles rattling when he leaned back against them.
“What about me?” Seonghwa pushed, seeking the admiration he knew the other would give.
“Can I say everything?” Hongjoong teased, through the effect was lost in the way his breath caught and grew faster when Seonghwa tugged his pants down.
“Yes. But I like when you praise me,” Seonghwa replied, eyes tracing the strained fabric of Hongjoong’s underwear. He leaned closer still, mouthing at and nuzzling his cheek against the bulge. Hongjoong’s fingers threaded through the raven locks on Seonghwa’s head, not pushing, but encouraging Seonghwa to stay close.
“Okay…” Hongjoong breathed. Seonghwa could feel him twitch beneath his cheek. “Go on, angel.”
Hongjoong pressed his bulge more firmly against Seonghwa’s lips. The nickname flowed like lava down Seonghwa’s spine. With a soft moan, he tugged at Hongjoong’s underwear. The sight of Hongjoong’s cock, hard and flushed for him, made him lick his lips. There was a prominent vein trailing up the underside, one Seonghwa wanted to trace with his tongue. So he did, flattening his tongue against it and licking upwards until he could wrap his lips around the head. The taste of him, something musky and salty, settled at the same time as Hongjoong’s pleasured groan above him. He paid no mind to the way fingers tightened in his hair, swallowing Hongjoong’s cock, loving the weight on his tongue and the stretch of his mouth, building a rhythm that had Hongjoong squirming.
“Fuck. You feel incredible,” Hongjoong gritted out. Seonghwa laved his tongue around the head, opening his eyes and looking up at Hongjoong with what he hoped were pleading eyes. Angel. Incredible. He wanted more. What he got was a choked, miserable sound. “This is so embarrassing, but I don’t think I’m going to last long.”
Seonghwa smirked at the admission, proud.
“Why not?” Seonghwa asked coyly, the wet skin beneath his pumping hand sliding easily. Hongjoong chuckled weakly.
“You really…” Hongjoong trailed off, shutting his eyes in pleasure when Seonghwa swallowed him again. Seonghwa watched this time, his movements slow. While it was a high compliment that Hongjoong already felt close to losing it, Seonghwa selfishly wanted to drag this out a little longer. When Hongjoong’s eyes opened again, the stare was intense, purposeful. It spiked Seonghwa’s expectations, sending a chill of anticipation down his spine. “Because you’re beyond sexy, especially with those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”
Seonghwa nearly choked, his face burning. That was by far the lewdest thing Hongjoong had said, and Seonghwa’s body reacted like striking a match. He pressed his free fist against the bulge staining at his own slacks and forgot all about trying to make this last. He hollowed his cheeks and bobbed faster, drunk on the sounds above him, on the need to make Hongjoong fall apart.
“Haah.. gonna come..” Hongjoong warned, his voice wrecked and perfect. Seonghwa looked up at him again, not stopping, and met Hongjoong’s gaze. Hongjoong’s face contorted in bliss, the hand on the back of Seonghwa’s head a little too rough in the way it pushed. Seonghwa nearly choked, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes when the push made the tip of Hongjoong’s cock hit the back of his throat. Still, he swallowed once, twice, as cum painted the inside of his mouth. The pressure on the back of his head was immediately relieved when Hongjoong realized. “S- sorry.”
Seonghwa pulled back, taking a grateful big breath of air and wiping the corners of his eyes. His head shook in response.
“Nothing to be sorry for,” Seonghwa assured, taking Hongjoong in. He looked a little undone, with blown pupils and a heaving chest. Seonghwa thought he’d never looked so good. Distracted by those good looks, he didn’t notice those blown pupils falling low, until the tip of Hongjoong’s shoe was nudging between his legs. Seonghwa gasped at the pressure.
“Can I return the favor?” Hongjoong asked, his eyes dark. Seonghwa was so hard it hurt, almost willing to give up his dignity and rut against Hongjoong’s foot. He didn’t, though, choosing to stand instead. No, what he really wanted-
“I’d rather you fuck me,” Seonghwa urged, crowding Hongjoong against the boxes and burying his face in the slope of Hongjoong’s neck. He left open-mouthed kisses along the skin, unsure if Hongjoong would want him to kiss him on the lips after blowing him. The resulting moan from Hongjoong was felt as a vibration against his lips.
“I don’t have the stuff we’d need for that here,” Hongjoong answered. Seonghwa huffed a displeased noise against his skin, and pouted even though Hongjoong couldn’t see it. Feeling hands push at him, Seonghwa pulled back, fairly surprised when he was kissed. He took it in stride, though, slotting their lips together enthusiastically. Still aching in his slacks, he could feel his heartbeat thrum through his entire body. He really wanted to be fucked, but he’d take the wet lips under his own instead. He’d take even those hands that always brushed against his own when handing him a drink. He’d take anything from this man, who broke their kiss with a soft pucker and trailed gentle fingers across Seonghwa’s jaw. “… but you can come home with me? If you want?”
That trepidation from when Seonghwa had first kissed him was back as he asked. It made Seonghwa feel bad, knowing he owed Hongjoong a proper explanation. Still, Seonghwa fisted the unbuttoned vest tightly.
“Please,” Seonghwa answered. Firmly. Fervently. Now that the offer was there, Seonghwa wasn’t going to let it slip.
---
It was jarring, at first. Hongjoong was the bartender at The Cove. Seonghwa had never witnessed him in any other environment, and now he was watching Hongjoong walking along the sidewalk, in his car, in his apartment building. He wondered if the way Hongjoong’s fingers tapped out random rhythms against his thigh while driving was his normal or if it was born out of the nerves of the situation. He wondered what the story was behind the little squirrel keychain on his keys. He wondered if the scent of his apartment, a mix of sandalwood and pine, was typical for him.
He wondered how it felt so fucking incredible to be caged underneath him.
Maybe it was the high of the circumstances. The quenching of a yearning that had been haunting him, weighing him down, making him feel useless and heinous. The triumph of finally accepting what he wanted, what was best, and doing something about it.
Maybe Seonghwa just didn’t have enough experience. He’d only ever lied with two men, one of which he’d lost his virginity to as a teenager, and then Yejun.
Maybe it was just Hongjoong. The way he teetered along the edge of rough and sweet, determined to learn Seonghwa’s body and cater to exactly what he wanted. Praise fell from his lips because Seonghwa loved it. He frequently licked and nibbled at Seonghwa’s earlobes because Seonghwa loved it. His cock breached Seonghwa’s hole and then withdrew, only to push in again, over and over, because Seonghwa loved it.
Seonghwa wondered how it was possible to feel so spoiled, so appreciated, so doted on, by someone he barely knew. To say Hongjoong was a generous lover was an understatement, and Seonghwa was hopelessly taken in.
“Come on, baby. You can give me another one,” Hongjoong growled in his ear. Seonghwa whimpered, on all fours as Hongjoong took him from behind, a slick hand sliding across his dick in time with his thrusts. He had already cum and was pathetically sensitive, but under Hongjoong’s administrations, was hard and leaking again. Every thrust punched out a sound, sometimes a grunt, somethings a whine, and he was vaguely aware his vision was blurry from tears. It didn’t matter, though. All that mattered was Hongjoong hitting that spot, and that hand coaxing something intense and tingling in his gut. Teeth grazing his earlobe was the final push, and Seonghwa cried out as he came, legs shaky and threatening to collapse.
Hongjoong followed shortly after, resting his sweaty forehead against Seonghwa back as he pressed in deep and came. They both crumpled to the sheets, panting and sticky and too hot, but staying skin to skin regardless, until the need for water and a clean-up were too much.
There was an argument over who would shower first. Neither wanted to give in, but when Seonghwa insisted he’d leave before Hongjoong showered after him in his own house, Hongjoong caved.
Really, Seonghwa was trying to buy time. He was still very aware of the phone he’d turned off, and very aware that he couldn’t, wouldn’t, call the place he had to go back to ‘home’ anymore.
After his own shower, he cringed when he had nothing but the clothes he’d already been wearing to put back on, but he reasoned it was better than being in Yejun’s apartment right now. When he exited the bathroom, he was surprised, but pleased, to see that Hongjoong had fallen asleep. Slowly, carefully, he edged himself onto the other side of the mattress, trying not to disturb him, and was content when the other didn’t budge.
He stared at Hongjoong’s sleeping form, trailing his eyes down that handsome face to the two little bruises courtesy of Seonghwa blooming on his neck, to the way his naked upper half disappeared into the changed sheets. They’d never discussed Seonghwa staying or going. Seonghwa wondered if Hongjoong would have a problem with him staying the night. Normally he’d do the courteous thing and leave, but he couldn’t bring himself to. It felt like his luck with Hongjoong, that constant approval and veneration, would have to run out at some point.
He didn’t want it to, and he didn’t want to go ‘home’, so he stayed.
He owed Hongjoong an explanation. He owed Wooyoung an explanation. He owed Yejun closure. He owed himself security, answers to the big, looming questions that came with major life changes.
He’d get to it all.
For now, he’d relax, and lie beside the person who was, unknowingly, responsible for the wings of freedom that Seonghwa felt able to spread for the first time in a long time.
With any luck, maybe Hongjoong would become a part of the new life he’d make for himself.