Chapter Text
“Thank you, Seonghwa–ssi. I’ll do my very best while we work together,” Yunho croons, his hands clasped to his chest like a fawning maiden. Hongjoong scowls, downs the rest of his drink, then hoists the empty cup over his shoulder.
“Woah, woah! Please don’t throw things at my boyfriend.” Mingi snatches the glass out of Hongjoong’s hand with a laugh.
“He’s being an annoying shit,” Hongjoong mutters. He sways on his cushion, thankful that he’s sitting on the floor at least. It won’t be a long fall when the soju and beer in his veins inevitably topples him over.
“That’s just how he shows affection. You know that, hyung.” Mingi tsks at Hongjoong’s answering glare and deposits the glass on the other side of the table. “Okay. No more drinks for you.”
“Yah. I bought them. Who are you to say I can’t drink anymore?” Hongjoong makes a dive for the glass only to be stopped by Mingi’s sturdy forearm.
“I’m your favorite dongsaeng.” Mingi tilts his chin into his chest, a maneuver that both widens his eyes and gives them a pitiful glassiness that never fails to sway Hongjoong.
“Yes, you are.” Hongjoong sighs, petting Mingi’s soft, pale hair. He levels Yunho with an unfair glare out of the corner of his eye and slumps into Mingi’s waiting arms. “Fine. I won’t kill you today, Yunho–yah.”
“Oh good,” Yunho rolls his eyes with an entertained scoff, “It’d be bad if you went to jail after meeting your favorite idol.”
Hongjoong wishes he could blame the burn in his cheeks on the alcohol. The rest of his day passed normally, a routine of camera checks and performances and stilted small talk between their guests. With Hongjoong guiding it, Camera Two remained locked on Seonghwa as he performed his newest pop ballad with a few juniors. Hongjoong broke himself into two and gave the professional half of his mind dominance over the fanboy. It worked for the last few hours of the day.
They wrapped quickly, and though Heecheul invited Hongjoong to drinks afterward, Hongjoong clung onto Yunho and announced he already had plans. Then, he cajoled Yunho into the nearest convenience store, bought half an armful of soju bottles and another half of beer cans, paid, and forced Yunho to call Mingi for an emergency gathering. When their taxi arrived at Hongjoong’s apartment building, Mingi, Hongjoong’s best and favorite dongsaeng, was lounging near the entrance with two bags of fried chicken and a sympathetic smile.
Now, long finished with the chicken and cut off from further drinking, Hongjoong rests his cheek on Mingi’s chest and pathetically laments, “He told me he was born in April. I couldn’t even tell him that I knew that. I never miss his birthday lives! I even bought his birthday merch. Look. It’s over there on the shelf.”
Indeed, on a diligently organized shelf along with every version of Seonghwa’s albums, official merchandise, fan merchandise, and a few special collaboration pieces, sits a small white rabbit plush with bright blue embroidered eyes. Next to the plush is a jewelry box which displays a necklace with a hefty silver star charm. Hongjoong wore the necklace every day until the simple black chain busted. He knows he could find a new chain, but now that the necklace is part of his display, he can’t imagine removing it again.
“Why not tell him?” Mingi asks, a confused pitch in his voice. “He’d probably like to meet a fan.”
“Not while he’s working. It would be so unprofessional to—”
“Remember when Soobin freaked out when Gyuri came on set?” Yunho chuckles, taking a sip of his beer. “We had to drag him back out of the restroom to talk to her. You weren’t that bad. You even managed to give Seonghwa a tour!”
“But I—!” Hongjoong remembers the ferocity in Seonghwa’s glare. It haunted him even as he guided Seonghwa and San around the IdolDex studio. Despite Seonghwa’s polite smile and carefully engaging questions, Hongjoong could hardly meet his eyes. He hurried their path, barely pointing out the technicalities in camera placement and lighting that usually excite him.
“I thought you were going to cream your pants when he touched you.” Yunho snickers.
“He touched you?” Mingi screeches, launching Hongjoong off his chest. Hongjoong sprawls onto the floor with a groan, his arms splayed over the cold floor of his apartment. He blinks at his ceiling, dazed, as Mingi continues to yell. “You didn’t tell me you actually made contact with Park Seonghwa, hyung! Where did he touch you? Was it erotic? Did he fondle you, hyung? Show me. Let me see!”
Hongjoong kicks Mingi’s questing hands away, skittering over the floor to get out of reach. “Stop that! I raised you better than this, Song Mingi.”
“That’s not true, hyung. You’ve seen my yaoi collection.” Mingi wiggles his eyebrows.
“No, I haven’t!”
“Don’t lie. I know you used to read them when I wasn’t in our room. You always put them back in the wrong order.” Mingi smirks, obviously pleased to deploy this long withheld knowledge. “You love overstimulation comics, don’t you?”
“Please stop talking,” Hongjoong groans. He covers his face and goes limp on the ground, feigning unconsciousness. It’s his last defense. If he’s lucky, Mingi and Yunho will think he’s finally succumbed to his many drinks and leave him alone.
“Oh no, Mingi–yah, he’s playing dead again,” Yunho says in a bored deadpan.
“I don’t know why he still does this,” Mingi sighs. “He’s twenty–seven years old. What do you think, babe? Should we poke him? I know exactly where his ticklish spot is.”
“I wouldn’t mind a demonstration,” Yunho says thoughtfully. “I could use it against him at work.”
Mingi hums, intrigued. “I’ll show you, but only if you promise to do it in front of Seonghwa. Hyung will never live it down. Pay attention now, Yunho–yah. If you poke right here…”
Hongjoong springs from the floor, slips and falls on his poor, boney knees, finds his footing, then dashes into his bedroom and locks the door. Seconds after the lock clicks, Mingi and Yunho’s shadows grow under the space between the door and the floor.
Minigi knocks with a snicker. “Aw, come out, hyung. You know I was just teasing. I wouldn’t give Yunho that kind of knowledge.”
“And you know I wouldn’t actually use it at work,” Yunho says.
“Yes, you would!” Hongjoong hisses.
Yunho clicks his tongue. “Okay. I would, but not in front of a guest like Seonghwa–ssi. It’d only be among friends, I swear!”
Hongjoong shudders, a vision of Soobin and the other younger crew members hiding around corners to catch him unassuming playing through his head. It’s his worst nightmare.
“I don’t believe you,” he slurs. Yunho’s answering laugh is all the confirmation Hongjoong needs.
“I don’t get it. Why aren’t we celebrating?” Mingi asks. “You met Seonghwa. You’ve been obsessed with him for ten years!”
“Nine.” Hongjoong corrects weakly. He rests his forehead against the door, tired and drunk and only footsteps from his bed. He’d only have to shut off the lights and hide under the covers. Yunho and Mingi would get bored eventually and leave.
Mingi sighs, knocking thrice against the door. “Is this about the special project Heecheul’s taking you on?”
Hongjoong winces. He hadn’t meant to tell Mingi and Yunho about that, not until he had actual details, but the someks had loosened his tongue earlier. He thought he was in the clear when both of them swept past that reveal, but clearly Mingi, at least, was paying enough attention to bring it up now.
“You know it’s gonna be okay, right?” Mingi whispers against the door when Hongjoong doesn’t answer.
“Yeah! You get to work with your idol! That’s a once in a lifetime opportunity,” Yunho says excitedly.
Mingi murmurs something intelligible, and one of the shadows under the door walks away. A few moments later, Hongjoong hears the clatter and rustle of the table being cleared.
“Was it really so bad?” Mingi asks softly.
Hongjoong sighs, sinking to the floor with his back against the door. “I could hardly talk to him, and he… I stopped by his waiting room to drop off some americanos, and he looked so upset when I walked in.”
“As in sad?”
“No.” Hongjoong recalls Seonghwa’s dark expression, the furious cadence of his voice. “Like he was mad. Like I was a bother. I didn’t mean to—”
“Did you know it was his room?”
“No. Soobin just gave me a room number.”
“Then…” Mingi pauses, thinking. “Did you ask for an autograph or something?”
“Of course not! I’d never ask our guests for anything like that.” While allowed during downtime, asking idols and celebrities for anything outside of their job was frowned upon, especially at IdolDex. “I left as soon as I could.”
“And you said he was fine afterward? He didn’t seem mad during your tour?”
“No, he was…” He was more like the person Hongjoong had watched through screens for years, blindingly kind and endlessly curious. “I don’t know which version of him was real.”
“They both are, probably.” Mingi muses, then tries the doorknob again. “Let me in. I wanna give you a hug.”
“No,” Hongjoong says petulantly. “You’re just gonna tickle me.”
“I won’t.”
“I don’t want Yunho to see.”
“He’s busy cleaning.”
“I still don’t want to.”
“But I bought you chicken.” Mingi’s voice pitches into a pitiful whine. “I thought I was your favorite.”
Hongjoong hates how easily Mingi wins him over. With a practiced motion, Hongjoong lifts his hand and unlocks the door. Mingi opens it and awkwardly scoots around the opening door to catch Hongjoong in his arms. He mumbles complaints as he manhandles Hongjoong into his lap and tightens his long arms around Hongjoong’s shoulders and waist, squeezing.
“I don’t mind if he’s different off stage,” Hongjoong says eventually, his cheek squished against Mingi’s collarbone. “I work with idols. I know how different they can be when the cameras turn off. I just— I made a fool of myself in front of him all day, and he means so much to me. I’m worried I won’t be able to work with him whenever this secret project rolls around.”
“I don’t think Heecheul would invite you onto the project if he thought you couldn’t stay professional,” Mingi says.
Hongjoong shakes his head. “That’s just about my camera work. And I’m flattered. I really am. It’s a great opportunity. I don’t think he knows about Seonghwa.”
“He does,” Yunho says. Hongjoong startles, whipping his head to find Yunho in his kitchen with a full garbage bag at his ankles. Yunho scratches his cheek bashfully. “I promise I’m not saying this to tease you, but the whole crew knows.”
“What?” Hongjoong whispers.
“Yeah, we know you’re trying to be stealth, so we haven’t said anything. But, hyung, you have one of his photocards on your bag.”
“But— But I get to work before everyone else!” Hongjoong sputters. “There’s no way you could have seen it!”
Yunho glances at Mingi, then guiltily admits, “You’re not as careful when you’re tired, and last time we had a wrap party, you went on and on about Seonghwa’s hairstyle at the time.”
Hongjoong feels the blood drain from his face. Their last company dinner was months ago, when Seonghwa’s hair was long and dyed beautifully white. He’d looked like an angel.
“I said… In front of everyone?” He squeaks.
Yunho nods, grimacing.
Hongjoong digs his face into Mingi’s chest and screams.
·•—–٠✤٠—–•· ·•—–٠✤٠—–•· ·•—–٠✤٠—–•·
“Hi, everyone. I had some time between schedules, so I thought I’d come visit.” Seonghwa’s cheek rests in his palm. He’s in a hotel room again, tucked in some nondescript corner that won’t reveal his exact location. His head bobbles tiredly as he reads comments with a soft smile.
“Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed the magazine shoot. I spent a lot of time with my stylist to get the look I wanted.” He describes the compromises made between his team and the magazine. It’s familiar fanfare, then someone asks if he’s eaten and Seonghwa launches into a fifteen minute praise for the barbeque restaurant he and his team visited last night.
“I have a really fun shoot coming up,” he says near the end of his stream. “What’s it for? Hm. You’ll have to wait and see, I guess.” Seonghwa winks but sobers immediately. His smile wavers as he stares at the camera. “I’m going to try something new. I’m a little nervous about it, honestly. I hope my Martians will enjoy it, though.”
“You’ll like anything I do?” Seonghwa laughs, covering his smile bashfully. “Thank you. More than anything, I want to continue being an artist that makes Martians proud. I hope you’ll keep rooting for me.”