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the first time jihoon meets woojin, they’re both covered in blood, sweat, and mud. there’s no time for introductions—woojin just grabs jihoon by the hand and tugs him over the border, into the safety of camp half blood with a chimera snapping at their heels. jisung the satyr takes credit for their safe entrance, but jihoon will always remember woojin as the one who was by his side when he finally found his home.
sometimes, jihoon has to try extra hard to remember that so he can resist the urge to kill woojin.
"keep your grubby hands away from my chicken," he complains, shoving woojin's grease stained fingers from where they're creeping closer and closer to jihoon's plate. woojin pouts, but jihoon just rolls his eyes. "you know, if you sat at your own table you wouldn't have to steal food off my plate."
"but you're just so much prettier than all of my siblings, so i want to sit with you."
"flattery will get you nowhere, woojin park."
woojin groans, slumping forward on to the stone dining table. doyeon, jihoon's half sister, looks on, nose scrunching as a bit of ash falls from woojin's already black hair.
"jihoonie, can you tell your friend that if he wants to sit at our table he shouldn't come to dinner straight from the forge?"
woojin’s head snaps up, and he grins. “the grime is part of my charm.”
doyeon's mouth twitches, but she doesn't say anything else. jihoon, on the other hand, snorts. "what charm?" he asks, taking the last drumstick off his plate and out of woojin's reach, trying to fit as much of it in his mouth as he can in one bite.
"says the guy eating half his body weight in chicken."
"it's protein," jihoon defends, not bothering to cover his still full mouth as he speaks. that might be gross, but it's woojin. he's seen worse. "maybe if you ate chicken instead of crap ramen and pizza you'd actually be able to swing a sword for more than ten minutes."
woojin flicks at jihoon's forehead, jihoon just barely managing to duck away from his stained fingers. "like i don't leave you in the dust every time we spar."
"you're right, you don't," jihoon quips, and this time he can't manage to escape the headlock that woojin puts him in. doyeon sighs, leaving the rest of her dinner uneaten on the table.
+
as strange as it sounds, jihoon used to be jealous of woojin. woojin was claimed rather dramatically by his godly parent their first night at camp, his hand bursting into flames as he was being introduced to their other campers over dinner. jihoon had been hoping to stay with woojin, the only person he knew in the whole camp, for at least a while after their arrival, but instead he just watched as woojin was accepted into the warm embrace of the hephaestus kids which jihoon was relegated to the crowded bunks of the hermes cabin.
it took two months for aphrodite to notice that jihoon had made it to camp, claiming him with an impromptu makeover as he made his way back from swimming lessons. while he appreciated the magical loss of his baby fat and a new hairstyle, he's always been a little bitter it didn't come sooner.
+
aphrodite kids and hephaestus kids don't always get along (what with their parents being estranged spouses and all), and jihoon and woojin fall prey to the ideas of their siblings, at least at first. jihoon lets his older sisters tug him away from the hephaestus kids during lessons and woojin starts to lock himself up in the forge, arriving late to dinner every night covered in soot with work gloves hanging from his belt. jihoon for all he's worth can't take his eyes off woojin, even when they're thirteen and he's got a whole cabin full of siblings telling him he's out of woojin's league. it's woojin that breaks first, shocking a whole table of aphrodite kids into silence when he sits next to jihoon at dinner for the first time.
"you already know me, but hi, i'm woojin, son of hephaestus, and i think it's stupid that we can't be friends even though i saved your life just because of who our parents are." it comes out all in one breath, woojin's head held high as jihoon's siblings watch in horror and jihoon just gapes.
somehow, the first thing that comes out of his mouth after that is: "you didn't save my life."
woojin's face splits into a grin. "well why don't i sit here so you can tell me about how exactly you would have survived without me."
and that's that.
+
woojin and jihoon are the bane of camp director rhymer's existence. maybe it's the fact that they're thirteen and fourteen respectively, and two teenage boys with newly discovered mythical powers are bound to get into trouble. tack onto that the fact that their siblings are generally considered rivals and that woojin and jihoon are now thick as thieves and, well, one can only imagine what a headache for the camp counselors that is.
it's an accident—or at least that's what jihoon tries to pass it off as when all the ares kids wake up totally made over, complete with custom jewelry that spews compliments every time the wearer gets angry.
"we asked the hecate cabin for help, but since we're all still learning how to use our powers things didn't go like how they were supposed to. it was just supposed to be a test, nothing permanent," jihoon explains, woojin resisting fake retching behind his back at the pouty expression on jihoon's face. it works, though—they get off with only three days of dish washing duty (which jihoon weasels their way out of by working his magic on the harpies. that face is a gift, really).
with no one expecting them back in their cabins till late, they take advantage of their freedom to sneak out onto the beach.
“you ever wish you had a different godly parent?” jihoon asks, eyes fixed on where woojin is kicking rocks into the surf.
“nah,” woojin replies easily with a shake of his head. “i used to think it’d be cool to be a son of poseidon like daniel, but big three kids always have eyes on them, you know? plus, i like my dad. hephaestus is pretty cool.”
“my mom doesn’t seem to think so.”
“yeah, well, you can tell your mom to—” jihoon claps a hand over woojin’s mouth, sparing a glance up to the sky for any sign that aphrodite’s listening in. a few seconds pass in silence, and he lets go with a sigh of relief.
“what about you?” woojin asks immediately, leaving jihoon confused.
“what?”
“did you ever wish you had a different parent?”
“sometimes i still do,” jihoon answers honestly. “there’s nothing wrong with my mom but...people don’t take aphrodite kids seriously. like all we’re good at is playing matchmaker or braiding hair by the lake. if my mom was athena, no one would question why i’m good at sparring or how i can climb the rock wall so fast, it would just be what they expect. i guess i’m just tired of people underestimating me.”
woojin hums, kicking another rock and watching it skid across the sand. “just don’t feel like you have to prove yourself to anyone here, jihoonie. if they underestimate you it’s their loss.”
“wise words for a baby,” jihoon replies, trying to tamp down the warmth rising in his chest, his throat.
woojin scoffs. “you’re only six months older than me, jerk.”
jihoon just laughs, and when that dies they fall into silence, listening to the gentle wash of seawater over the sand.
“and for the record, i knew from the first time i saw you that you could kick my ass.” woojin’s voice is confident, but he keeps his eyes trained on the water.
“i’m never going to let you forget you said that,” jihoon grins, and woojin turns to smile back at him.
“i know.”
it’s then, walking back from the beach that night with the stars reflected in woojin’s dark eyes, that jihoon knows. he wants to be by woojin’s side through everything, no matter what.
+
jihoon is conflicted—that fall is lonely without woojin, but summer means heat, air so dry and stiflingly hot it feels like he’s breathing in sand. which he may very well be, considering where he’s standing in the sparring arena, the toes of his sneakers nearly buried in the stuff.
“is that all you’ve got?” woojin taunts, brandishing his sword so the bright midday sun glints off it’s bronze surface. jihoon just rolls his eyes, adjusting his grip on the twin knives in his palms, trying to get a good hold despite the sweat that’s built up there. he knows he must look gross—two hours of sparring with woojin in the middle of july heat is enough to leave anyone sweaty and covered in dirt, especially jihoon with his penchant for rolling around in the dust to stay out of reach. it’s not like woojin looks any better, though; red hair matted down to his forehead and neck with sweat, it’s typical shine stolen by the fine layer of dust that’s settled over woojin’s head.
“whenever you’re ready,” jihoon finally replies, taking on a defensive stance. with woojin, it’s always best to play defense—he’ll get so caught up in what he’s doing that he’ll leave open windows of opportunity that jihoon never fails to see. even so, jihoon loses as many times as he wins. woojin’s his favorite sparring partner because they’re so evenly matched—donghyun is too easy to beat and haknyeon wipes the floor with jihoon every time.
woojin wins the next fight, but jihoon wins the one after that, and they keep going till they’re both too exhausted to lift their arms anymore and somi is yelling at them to get out of the ring and make room for people who are actually trying to train. even a thirteen year old daughter of ares is terrifying, so they leave as quickly as their tired muscles will allow.
+
hephaestus and aphrodite cabins have never been on the same team for capture the flag for all four years jihoon and woojin have been at camp, which is just how jihoon likes it. he's got eyes on the other team's flag from where he's crouched behind a bush, and is just waiting for the right moment to strike when he hears a branch crack behind him. before he even turns around, he knows who it is. “seriously?” jihoon complains as he stands, adjusting his grip on the dagger so he can extend his arm and hold it up to woojin’s throat, blade parallel to the ground. woojin isn’t fazed in the slightest; he just smirks, tossing a homemade greek fire bomb in his hand absentmindedly. “did I crash your party?” woojin asks, and jihoon sighs. fifteen year old woojin is so much more cocky than thirteen year old woojin was. “can you not get in my way for like, five minutes? i was about to kick your team’s ass.”
"getting in your way is the entirety of my job description," woojin replies, rolling the smooth glass of the bomb around in his palm.
"fine." jihoon heaves a sigh, rolling his eyes before he adjusts his stance. "can you just fight me so i can get back to what i was doing before you interrupted?" "if you insist." sometimes, jihoon really wants to punch woojin, especially when he flashes that obnoxiously endearing snaggletooth.
woojin tucks the bomb into the tool belt hanging around his waist, producing a small bronze cube that expands into a short sword when woojin presses one of the faces with his thumb.
"that's new," jihoon remarks, making a quick attempt at a jab with his knife that woojin easily side steps. "you just make that?"
"finished it yesterday," woojin replies, grunting when jihoon's elbow makes contact with his ribs.
“let’s see if it’s any good then.” woojin fixes jihoon with a devilish grin, and then they start fighting in earnest, jihoon’s original mission long forgotten. eventually, the flag is won by jihoon’s team without his help, but he still leaves the forest at woojin’s side, both sporting new bruises and wide smiles.
+
woojin goes on his first quest just days before jihoon’s seventeenth birthday. of course, jihoon finds out about this months later, after returning to camp for the summer to see woojin being hailed as a hero for slaying some important monster from the old myths. jihoon wishes he could be happy, he really does, but he can’t even get through the crowd of campers surrounding his best friend to give woojin his congratulations. bitter, he lets doyeon drag him back to their cabin to unpack his things as she gets him up to speed on the romantic happenings of that winter.
“everyone has a crush on your boyfriend,” doyeon tells him from where she’s laying on jihoon’s bed, hands laced over her stomach and eyes fixed on the wooden slats of the bunk above her. jihoon keeps his back turned to her as he tries to get his pictures to stick to the wall.
“i have a boyfriend?” he asks, knowing full well she means woojin and that she’s doing it to get a rise out of him. there’s a short list of people who can do that to jihoon, and doyeon is pretty damn close to the top of it.
she just hums, mouth twisting as she thinks. “i mean i certainly don’t have a thing for him, but i can’t blame the people that do. the spring was kind to him, what with the quest and all. you get a few more muscles and a couple new scars and suddenly you’re a big deal around this place.”
jihoon makes a noise at the back of his throat, one that could’ve been taken as agreement by someone who doesn’t know him as well as doyeon does. she catches it though, knows what it means, rolling on to her side so she can poke jihoon in the ribs. “it’s now or never, lover boy. woojin’s oblivious, if you don’t let him in on your feelings soon he’s gonna end up with someone else.”
“have you ever considered that if i wanted him to know, i would have told him already?” he replies, turning to face her with a frown.
“no, because i know you’re a masochist who would rather rot in his own feelings than let his oblivious best friend know that he’s head over heels in love with him.”
“you’re annoying.”
“but i’m right.”
jihoon doesn’t have anything to say to that so he keeps his mouth shut, turning back to the wall and letting his fingers linger a little too long as he pins up a polaroid of him and woojin, just above where his pillow is. doyeon mutters something that sounds like “whipped”, but jihoon ignores it.
she heaves a dramatic sigh, and jihoon hears her socked feet hit the cabin floor. “come find me whenever you sort your shit out, jihoonie. i love you and all, but for a son of the goddess of love you’re really hopeless sometimes.”
jihoon wants to bite back something about the wood nymph yoojung, but it’s too late—by the time he turns around, the cabin door is closing behind her. the worst part is that he knows doyeon’s right—five minutes at camp was enough to show jihoon that woojin’s a hot topic now, and jihoon knows that if he doesn’t confess soon then someone else will. if they haven’t already, of course. the thought makes jihoon’s stomach twist.
as much as he hates to admit it, doyeon’s line of reasoning is clear—if jihoon confesses, even if he gets shot down, he’ll know it’s because woojin doesn’t see him like that and not because he’s simply too late. this is how he makes up his mind.
mother, jihoon thinks, i’ve never asked for anything from you, but if you could help this go well it’d be greatly appreciated. clearly, jihoon doesn’t have the discipline to pray because his eyes narrow in mild annoyance when there’s no response, the cabin still silent and empty around him. well, he decides, it’s now or never.
if there’s one place jihoon knows that woojin can be found, it’s the forge. in all their years together that’s where woojin’s been whenever he’s not at jihoon’s side, and all the hours he puts in show in his creations (jihoon’s knives are some of woojin’s best work, in his opinion). so, this is where jihoon heads.
it’s nearing dinner already, so most of the campers are making their way towards the pavilion, streaming out from cabins and training areas. jihoon’s walking against the current, weaving his way through a crowd of grease stained hephaestus kids who look at him like he doesn’t belong there. some of the older ones, though, give him a smile—they’ve seen him at woojin’s side since they were still children.
heat slaps jihoon in the face as soon as he walks through the doors—it’s easy to understand why woojin always shows up to dinner sweaty. little celestial bronze robots buzz around the floor, carting screws and raw metals from table to table, between the few campers still left inside. woojin’s not hard to find; jihoon locates him by the sound of woojin’s victory screech when he pulls an object out of the flames in front of him. it doesn’t look like a weapon— thin as a piece of paper with edges curved like flower petals. in fact, jihoon think’s that’s what it’s supposed to resemble—a lotus flower.
“finish something?” jihoon asks, approaching woojin’s workbench with trepidation, mostly due to the red hot hunk of metal woojin’s still holding an arm’s length away.
woojin looks up in surprise, nearly dropping the grippers he’s using to hold his creation. Instead, he sets it down carefully to cool, peeling off his thick leather gloves and running a hand through his already messy hair, the grease on his palms making it stand up at odd angles.
“never thought i’d see you in here voluntarily,” woojin replies with a lazy smile. “and yeah, i did. you’re actually not supposed to see it yet though.” woojin ducks his head slightly, hand moving to rub at the back of his neck. “anyway, what’s up?”
jihoon wants to press the matter of the lotus flower but he doesn’t, instead steering the conversation to his original purpose. “there’s something i need to talk to you about.”
“is this an intervention?” woojin jokes. “i promise i’ll spend less time in the forge honey, i know you work so hard to take care of the house and the kids—”
“shut up, asshole,” jihoon laughs, reaching across the workbench to punch at woojin’s (admittedly very solid) arm. “i’m being serious.”
“then tell me what’s up,” woojin says, leaning to rest his elbows on the table. “you wouldn’t march all the way over here if it wasn’t important, so spit it out.”
“there was no marching.”
“you’re jihoon, there had to have been at least a little bit of marching.”
“whatever.” jihoon rolls his eyes, trying to ignore the anxiety building in his gut. you’d think his mom would at least give him the strength to get through a confession unfazed but alas. no dice. “so, you’ve gotten popular over the winter, huh?”
“you jealous?” woojin asks, quirking an eyebrow.
“and if i am?”
woojin’s face splits into a wide grin. “you know i only have eyes for you, baby.” he’s teasing, and jihoon knows it, but he wants so badly for woojin to be sincere.
“about that,” jihoon says, swallowing as he ignores the rapid beating of his heart. “i like you,” he blurts, watching the expression on woojin’s face turn from satisfaction to bewilderment. “i have ever since that one night on the beach when you told me i didn’t have to prove myself to anyone, and i couldn’t go another summer without telling you, so. yeah.” jihoon lets out a puff of air, eyes trained on woojin as woojin’s face relaxes again. jihoon squints in confusion when woojin steps back from the table, sliding the hunk of celestial bronze over to in front of jihoon.
“here,” he says, matter of a fact, and jihoon cuts him off before he can continue.
“seriously? i just told you i’ve liked you since you were thirteen and you’re showing me what you made today? jesus, woojin, when i say you have the emotional intelligence of a rock i don’t want you to prove it—”
“will you just shut up and listen for a second?” woojin laughs, and jihoon shuts his mouth, arms crossed over his chest in annoyance. “i made this for you.” he pushes the object a little closer, urging jihoon to look at it.
“it’s beautiful,” jihoon admits, “but what is it?”
woojin laughs. “it’s a throwing star. i figured you should get an upgrade, you deserve a lot better than those daggers i made you two years ago.”
“can i…” jihoon trails off, motioning to the weapon with his hand. woojin gives him an affirmative nod.
“it’s cool enough to touch now,” he says, so jihoon takes a step closer, tracing his fingers over to of the weapon’s many curves until he takes it by the center, the star feeling featherlight in his hand. “test it out,” woojin suggests, so jihoon does, leveling the object before aiming for the target wall where the forge’s patrons test their newly made weapons. he shoots for a small black scorch mark, relishing in the feeling as he releases the weapon and the satisfying whistle it makes as it flies through the air. it strikes the wall with a satisfying clang, and jihoon looks back at woojin with pure joy.
“see? beautiful and dangerous, just like it’s owner,” woojin smiles proudly. “i didn’t know how to tell you that i like you, so i made you something you could probably kill me with. smart, right?”
“it’s a better plan than what i just did,” jihoon admits, and woojin laughs.
“that’s fair.” they fall into silence, waiting with bated breath for one of them to make the next move. unsurprisingly, it’s woojin who speaks again first. “hey, wanna try something?”
“depends on what it is,” jihoon replies, eyes narrowing as woojin steps around the workbench till he’s right in front of jihoon.
“i think you’ll like what i have in mind.”
woojin’s hands find jihoon’s waist and then he leaning down, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of jihoon’s mouth.
jihoon snorts. “you missed.”
“hey,” woojin replies, offended. “I was testing the waters, okay?”
“it’s like this,” jihoon says, wrapping his hands around the back of woojin’s neck to tug him down into a proper kiss.
woojin reeks of smoke and gasoline and jihoon’s sure there’ll be black stains where woojin’s hands are gripping his tee shirt, but jihoon wouldn’t have it any other way.