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Wooseok had once declared he would rather be force fed every single putrid and disgusting flavour of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans before he’d willingly allow Gryffindor’s golden boy Cho Seungyoun gain the upper hand over him.
“Petty dramatization isn't a good look on you, Wooseok-ah,” Head Boy at the time, Han Seungwoo had lightly cautioned him, after having been victim to another one of Wooseok's incessant complaints during their casual mentoring session in Hogsmeade. “Just learn to pick your battles more carefully. Seungyoun acts like this because he knows what kind of reaction he can rouse from you.”
“Well. It would be far easier if I could just use the imperio curse to make him shut up and do my bidding instead,” Wooseok groused grumpily as they perused the shelves of Honeydukes, the sweet shop piled sky-high and stuffed full of decadent treats.
Seungwoo had merely giggled over the sugar quill he was holding and lightly stated, “Wooseok, that’s illegal.”
In hindsight, having prided himself in being level-headed in most situations, Wooseok should have heeded his senior’s wise advice. However, in his defence, maturity had always somehow remained elusive when faced with Seungyoun’s cocky expression.
Safe to say, Wooseok did not give in to temptation to use such an unforgivable curse, because (1) he still had morals and (2) he didn’t fancy being sent to wizarding jail Azkaban for life with Seungyoun to blame, therefore Wooseok had been left to suffer.
To the rest of the school, Cho Seungyoun was regarded as the warm and empathetic lionhearted Gryffindor.
He was someone who had made a name for himself by purposefully crossing over the invisible delineation between houses to charm everyone—creating a network of friends that probably would have his back at any given time.
(Helpful, considering the countless shenanigans he’d get himself into, much to their professors’ dismay.)
But Seungyoun was also bold, brilliant and persistent in getting what he wanted. This always came as a surprise to anyone who didn’t know him well, due to the superficial jokester character that was normally applied to him, leading to a vast underestimation of his skills.
And sure, Wooseok wasn’t completely oblivious to the fact that Seungyoun was all that and more as a person, but there’s no reason why he should be inflating the other male's ego, not when he would much rather upend the insufferable Gryffindor on his reckless and arrogant ass instead.
Ever since they met, it was clearly obvious that one of the goals in Seungyoun’s life was to dig deep right under Wooseok’s skin. Like gravity or relativity, there were just some universal laws that can’t be denied—and the most important one of all:
Cho Seungyoun, being the complete, and utter bane of Kim Wooseok’s existence.
There was no question that their deep seated rivalry was legendary.
It ran parallel to the fierce, centuries old competition between Gryffindor and Slytherin—the one that has been inscribed onto pages and pages of dusty tomes and passed down from the mouths of their ancestors throughout history.
Although it’s not so much death wishes hurled upon each other (considering the tightened criminal ramifications for any restricted dark hex casted), there's still a large bone of contention to pick between the students of each respective house.
And as much as Wooseok detested falling prey to the stereotypical trap stemming from his forefathers, he really couldn’t help himself.
It dates right back to their first year Potions class.
Having his finished, perfectly brewed forgetfulness potion completely knocked over by an careless elbow (also ruining his thoroughly detailed notes in the process), Wooseok has maintained since then that Seungyoun did it on purpose.
Seungyoun, of course, insisted that it'd been an accident in the face of Wooseok’s forceful glare, but Wooseok knew better.
He could just tell from the tiny quirk of a smile playing on Seungyoun’s lips as he was praised for having the best concoction of the whole batch while Wooseok was left only to sulk with a congealed mess on his parchment and an empty cauldron.
Wooseok’s wand sometimes still emits sparks warningly whenever he recalls Seungyoun’s parting words that day: “It’s too bad that Professor Kwon couldn’t evaluate your potion. Maybe you can come closer to winning next time.”
Wooseok had made up for it later in the week during their shared Herbology class when he had subtly blown the spores from a puffapod sitting in front of him, having read that it would cause a mild (albeit very recoverable) dizzy sensation to anyone who inhaled it.
Very coincidentally, the spores had floated right into the trajectory path of the nearby Seungyoun—with several more puffapods embraced in his arms—having paused to chat with Lee Jinhyuk, a fellow Gryffindor assigned to sit at the same table as Wooseok.
Feeling off-balanced, Seungyoun had accidentally dropped the sensitive seedpods onto the greenhouse floor causing the contained beans to spring out and bloom too early in the season—thus receiving a scolding from Professor Shin, and a mark against his name.
( Wooseok would then go on to becoming Professor Shin’s favorite in Herbology, to Seungyoun's disapproval. )
Since those initial defining events, a cold war had been declared.
And over the ensuing six years, the pair continued to grapple for the top spot in every single subject (though with far less childish schemes, and more reliance on actual pure skill). Seungyoun seemingly more adept at Defence Against the Dark Arts and Potions; Wooseok feeling more at home with Charms and Herbology but really; they were both pretty much neck and neck.
Their constant antics at one-upping each other never failed to elicit a collection of emotions, ranging from awe, to jealousy, to amusement, and of course, to exasperation, as evidenced by the constant eye-rolling from their peers.
( To explain the duo's rivalry succinctly in Kang Minhee’s words, “Really, it’s all just a dick-measuring contest between Wooseok-hyung and Seungyoun-hyung.”
Multiple things had occurred in a succession of events after the simple observation:
- Wooseok had torn his glowering eyes away from where they were fixed on Seungyoun’s disappearing back, stupidly broad in his quidditch training gear. The latter was exiting the Great Hall after having dropped by to provoke Wooseok again—this particular time: how well they both fared during their O.W.L exams yesterday. (Wooseok’s Levitation charm has always been faultless, thank you very much.)
- He took a sip of the refreshing pumpkin juice to wash down the residue of the bickering lingering on his tongue before placing the bronze goblet back down onto the breakfast table.
- Momentarily, he had ignored the very shiny prefect badge pinned against his own robes—an indicator that he was supposed to be a beacon of exemplary behavior—so he could place his Slytherin junior in a very, very fond, but tight head lock.
- “I would highly appreciate if you do not talk about our dicks, or any dicks ever again.”
- Minhee had cried for surrender within seconds of Wooseok’s polite request whilst Dongpyo, another younger Slytherin who seemed to have a far better sense of self-preservation had merely cackled nearby at the sight of his friend’s near death.
- Wooseok went back to calmly eating his breakfast as if nothing had happened. )
This incessant need to compete, and win against each other thus unsurprisingly also extended to the quidditch pitch, originating way back in their first year when they had both been named the youngest seekers in decades appointed to each squad.
Since climbing onto his first kiddy broomstick in the middle of his mom’s curated roses, Wooseok discovered he had a natural affinity for flight. He easily learnt to weave and glide around tight corners, and knowing how to instinctively shift his weight in order to manipulate his broom quickly became second nature to him.
But, Wooseok is keenly aware he isn’t the most gifted of quidditch players in the grand scheme of things. He doesn’t expect to go professional and join the league at academic year end. (He has different and equally as ambitious plans.)
So, perhaps, if you stuck a wand under his throat and threatened him, then maybe, just maybe Wooseok would then grudgingly admit that quidditch is an area that Seungyoun does probably have him beat in.
From the many matches that Wooseok has flown against Seungyoun—in rain, snow or shine—it’s crystal clear to anyone watching, even with an untrained eye, the reason why Seungyoun has been Gryffindor’s quidditch captain for three years running now.
The passion and prowess that Seungyoun has for the sport is astounding, and coupling that with his natural leadership and foresight to masterfully create long term strategic plans, Cho Seungyoun is someone who has quidditch blood running through his veins.
But, Wooseok works damned hard to maintain his seeker role in the Slytherin team.
He makes an effort to attend every single scheduled training session, in between all of his extra duties as current Head Boy and studying for his N.E.W.Ts (in other words: their final 7th year is a total bitch). This also means there’s no way in hell he’ll let Seungyoun catch the snitch before him, not without putting up the biggest fight at the very least.
However, if Wooseok was singleminded in his intent and focus on winning, Seungyoun was just as equally determined and motivated.
There was unfortunately no shaking Seungyoun off his tail as evidenced by the way that he remains hot on Wooseok’s heels during the hunt for the snitch in the final Gryffindor versus Slytherin match up of the year. Their prides were on the line.
Seungyoun has been shadowing him especially closely in the last hour, something out of character for the other seeker who was normally flashy with his on field stunts. Tell no one, but Wooseok swears, his heart almost topples out of his chest every time he sees Seungyoun execute one of his spectacular, yet dangerous spiral dives. Always, a fucking entertainer that one.
Wooseok himself, knows he doesn’t quite have the same power as Seungyoun but he makes up for it with elegance and precision. He has always preferred to be more passive in biding his time, before striking when needed.
The trouble is, Seungyoun obviously knows him far too well, able to see through Wooseok’s leisurely manoeuvres that usually fool the other teams’ seekers. He’s made a decision to stick to Wooseok like chewing gum to a shoe, much to Wooseok’s irritation.
They’re both currently hovering on their broomsticks, several meters off the grass as their teammates zoom back and forth above them. Wooseok thought he’d spotted the snitch but turns out it had just been the reflection of one of the spectators’ omnioculars.
Contrary to the current season, the sun was especially strong today, tricking Wooseok with hazy mirages. He consoles himself that his swift swooping move had deceived Seungyoun as well.
Leaning back against on his broom, Wooseok tiredly wipes perspiration off his brow, feeling as if he’s about to roast in his heavy uniform. It’s been over two hours but the snitch is still nowhere in sight. What Wooseok would give to dip his feet into the freezing temperatures of the Great Lake right now.
Wooseok squints suspiciously at Seungyoun, before asking, "Don't you have anything better to do then to attach yourself to me all day?"
"But didn't you know that spending time with you is my favorite thing to do?" Seungyoun retorts teasingly. "I think I've been lacking in that department lately and I thought I'd make up for it."
"Has anyone told you that you—," Wooseok pauses, trying to find the correct sentiment, "—are so infuriating sometimes?"
"Yup," Seungyoun says, ending the word with a pop of his lips. "You."
Over the years, it's become well known that antagonising Kim Wooseok would be an intimidating and unnerving experience leading to most people trying to avoid it as much as possible, but Seungyoun always manages to take it in his stride—revelling in pressing Wooseok's buttons.
Thankfully, for him, Wooseok gets distracted by the excited yelling of Hufflepuff commentator whose loud and booming voice has been magically enhanced to reach every corner of the large stadium, like surround system.
“And today’s lead scorer, chaser Park Jihoon lets the quaffle rip past Song Yuvin again, allowing Slytherin to add to their current lead of over one hundred points—oh hell! Merlin’s balls, he’s been hit by a particularly aggressive bludger—eugh, there’s blood everywhere…disgusting—”
Wooseok swivels his head to look up at the scene, spotting Kim Yohan, one of Gryffindor’s two beaters clutching the offending bat and Jihoon appearing worse for wear with red staining the front of his emerald flying robes.
It's not the first injury, both sides having already been pushed to their limits, physically and mentally. Gryffindor had been leading for the first hour, but their defensive expert, wall of a keeper Yuvin had clashed into Slytherin’s Kim Yerim, causing him to sustain an injury, slowing him down.
There were no substitutions in school quidditch. Despite Seungyoun’s concern for his teammate and long term consequences, Yuvin, known for being stubborn and headstrong on and off field, had insisted on continuing to play on, just gritting his teeth down.
Since then, Slytherin had been able to take advantage thanks to their more experienced chasers in comparison to the more youthful Gryffindor team. Their countless early morning training regimes, practicing numerous strategic moves paying off.
Looking at the score board again which is currently showing: 360 to 190 points—it now dawns on Wooseok why Seungyoun has been so plastered against his side. Since the snitch itself was worth one hundred and fifty points, It’s to ensure Wooseok didn’t get his hands on it before Gryffindor could recoup the score differential, otherwise losing the entire match was entirely inevitable for Seungyoun’s side.
“It would pay for you to control your team better, Captain Cho,” Wooseok remarks frostily, gaze reverting to lock back in battle with Seungyoun. “Just because you’re currently down in points, doesn’t mean you have to resort to dirty tactics like that.”
As the other seeker’s eyes meet his, they gleam amber under the streaming sunlight and Wooseok kind of hates the way Seungyoun looks perfect to him right now in this exact moment—golden, windswept and devastatingly handsome.
He’s supposed to be filled with utmost annoyance, not you know, admiration.
It’s really terrible timing.
Wooseok takes a deep breath to gather himself and reaches up his robe sleeve. He’s half-way pulling out his wand in an attempt to salvage the situation with Jihoon’s broken nose that is still pouring blood, when he’s interrupted.
“It was clearly an accident, Kim,” comes Seungyoun languid drawl, looking far too comfortable and at home on his broom during such a chaotic match. “Anyway, no harm done.” He nods his head towards Nakamoto Yuta, Slytherin’s captain having flown in to take care of fixing Jihoon’s face with a flourish of his wand, casting an episkey spell.
Jihoon doesn’t waste anytime, re-joining the offensive formation waiting in preparation and when the referee’s whistle blows, the quaffle vanishes quickly, flashing from player to player in a blur of red again.
Wooseok does a quick sweep of the arena and when he’s satisfied the snitch isn’t flitting around close by, or that there aren’t any tailing bludgers out to attack him, he twists back to regard Seungyoun carefully.
After a moment of consideration at the Gryffindor captain’s blind trust in his team, Wooseok heaves out a long-suffering sigh, still displeased. “There’s already been too many casualties today, we can’t afford more even if they are just, accidental.”
The implication attached to Wooseok’s last word is loud.
“There you go, being your distrustful self again.” Seungyoun cocks his head to the side as he folds his arms across his chest which only serves to emphasise the breadth of it. “I must say, your utter lack of faith in me and my team is extremely disappointing.”
“Just considering every single possibility,” Wooseok retaliates as he mimics Seungyoun's posture. “It’ll be pretty typical for you lot to get overly excited, trampling all over the rules set in place and doing whatever you wish—“
“You’re implying that I would even consider telling my kids to purposefully sabotage Slytherin?” Seungyoun interrupts softly now, tone almost challenging. He continues curtly without waiting for a response, “Maybe if you want to buy into the stereotypical bullshit, then I’ll just say you should probably be more worried about the history of your own house instead.”
They really shouldn’t be descending into this kind of dialogue in the middle of a quidditch match and Wooseok would normally just ignore Seungyoun's provocative comments. But for all the routine banter between them, Wooseok also knows that Seungyoun doesn’t get angry easily so for Wooseok to hear the iciness in the other seeker’s voice, it stops him in his tracks.
Wooseok runs a frustrated hand through his hair. He insists emphatically, “Of course I don’t.”
“Don’t what?” Seungyoun has the gall to raise his eyebrow at him, making it very clear that he wants Wooseok to repeat himself.
“Don’t think that you’d stoop to cheating.” Honestly Wooseok would never because he knows Seungyoun is better than that, being someone who prided himself with the fairest of play. Wooseok doesn’t even know why his mind would even wander down that path, but Wooseok can also sense how tired and stressed he is, and he's not thinking straight. He scrubs at his face, his rough leather gloves scratching against his cheeks in the process. Wooseok stiffly adds, “Fine, maybe your eleven year old self, but not anymore, not like this so I'm sorry if it came off that way.”
And with that, the harsh lines of Seungyoun’s face immediately soften into his regular light expression. Seungyoun chuckles lowly as he places both of his feet on the ground, poised to kick back up into the air. Before he does though, he hums.
“You know, sometimes, it’s nice seeing you at my mercy like that, Seok-ah. You're too easy to rile up.”
Wooseok blinks, all embarrassment and chagrin from before dissolving into pure indignation at Seungyoun’s words. Falling for all that, was a rookie move and Wooseok should have known better. He groans. “Fuck you, Cho.”
“Sure, just name the time and date, Kim” Seungyoun shoots back without hesitation. He laughs, loud and inhibited—the noise ringing in Wooseok’s ears. “I mean, you did say that Gryffindors are rule-breakers after all and for you, I’d gladly break all of them.”
Wooseok is left to splutter momentarily, but he barely even has time to process it all because there is a very sudden split second moment where right in front of him, Wooseok catches the observable switch in Seungyoun’s facial expression. The cheekiness slips off the other seeker’s face, to turn into something more serious, and jaw hardening.
And when Seungyoun sharply takes off for the skies without a further word, Wooseok curses under his breath. Thankfully, his subconscious reflexes kick his body into gear rapidly, helping him to immediately push off right behind Seungyoun.
Wooseok can see it now, the fluttering wings of the golden snitch against the back drop of the vast expanse of blue sky. There’s no clouds to be seen, and soon, the roaring cheers of the crowd begin to fade into almost nothing as they soar higher and higher.
Wooseok wills himself to go faster, trying his hardest to coax more acceleration from his broom not wanting to accept the probability that it was a lost cause, considering he’s still nearly a whole broomstick length behind Seungyoun, who had a head start on him.
The chasers had been trading goals in the short period that Seungyoun and him had been conversing, leaving Wooseok uncertain of what the current score was. But seeing Seungyoun’s haste, it’s likely catching the snitch was imperative for either of them now.
However just as Seungyoun stretches his arm out, perhaps very luckily in Wooseok’s favor, the snitch’s flying pattern suddenly veers unexpectedly as it begins speeding right back down towards the stands again. It’s aimed right at Wooseok who attempts to catch it as it flies past him, but (not so luckily) his fingertips just brush past the gilded casing.
Wooseok lets out a hiss of frustration through his teeth, and he can almost picture the crooked smirk fixed on Seungyoun’s face at his inability to close on the win. But it just spurs him on to shift his momentum and swing his broom around.
Quidditch, like life, can be scarily unpredictable.
The adrenaline thrums through Wooseok as the biting wind cuts into his face. He doesn’t allow his eyes to lose aim of the target because the snitch is elusive and honestly, Wooseok does not wish to be out here any longer.
Soon, they’re both diving downward at top speed now, bodies flat against their brooms, toe to toe with each other.
There is a line of heat emitting from Seungyoun, as they are both pressed up against one another—shoulder, thighs, calves. Wooseok’s teeth ache from clamping down so hard and his palms are beginning to slip against the grip of the smooth wood as he jostles against Seungyoun for dominance.
An urgent sense of trepidation begin to overtake the adrenaline when Wooseok sees the ground looming larger and larger—the instant thought that they both need to pull out soon to avoid risk of crashing sound warning noises repeatedly in his mind.
But just a little bit more.
Wooseok’s breath seizes in his chest as he moves to knock Seungyoun’s hand out of the way. They’re both still trying to tip each other off balance and Wooseok struggles to stay on course as he strains to reach his own fingers out.
The next ten seconds comes as a complete blur to Wooseok.
One moment, he’s clear and focused on the snitch right in front of him within grasp, and the next, all he can feel is free falling as his broom gets destabilised by an external force, likely a bludger hitting it’s tail end and Wooseok gets completely thrown off.
And, in that next moment, Wooseok discovers there’s finally something else he hates more than Cho Seungyoun winning over him:
It’s the entire way that Wooseok directly hits the turf, shoulder and face slamming straight into the hard ground and how he experiences the horrendous, searing pain as his bones crumble, before the overwhelming sensation causes him to black out.
“Fuck,” Wooseok mumbles groggily, throat dry and as if he has cotton wool for a tongue. When he peels open his eyelids, he realizes he’s currently in the Hospital Wing, serene and peaceful with only moonlight streaming through the window.
Pieces of scattered memories begin to return to Wooseok, as he slowly tries to take stock of any lingering after-effects of the fall. Thankfully, while his head feels slightly foggy still, and his right arm, heavy, nothing else seems to be amiss.
Except—
Despite the fact that it’s late at night, there’s someone sitting by his side. Wooseok registers the way that his left hand feels warm from how someone is clasping it firmly—familiar smaller fingers intertwined between his longer, more slender ones.
Wooseok’s gaze flicks to the side to discover Seungyoun’s face, soft in sleep. His cheek is smushed slightly against the bedsheets and Wooseok can make out the fringe of dark lashes that are fluttering slightly against his skin as the other male dreams.
It’s strange to see Seungyoun like this since it’s not a sight he gets to see every day.
It soon seems futile for Wooseok to resist the way that his lip curls into the smallest of smiles. He can't help but drink in the scene of Seungyoun encased in the glow of the night for a bit longer than he probably should have, before finally trying to pry his hand free.
The jerking movement ends up waking Seungyoun who groans out sleepily, “Thank god you’re finally in the world of the living again, but stop moving so much Seok-ah. You’re supposed to be resting.”
“And how am I supposed to do that when you’re clutching my hand so tightly,” Wooseok complains, voice hoarse. He lets his face settle into a requisite half-scowl. “I’m soon about to lose this arm too, with the way you’re pretty much cutting off my circulation.”
”Stop exaggerating,” Seungyoun says in a way as if he’s entirely used to Wooseok’s bristling but he does let up his tight grasp. It’s too bad that the action doesn’t ease Wooseok's turmoil, but rather, more the opposite as it makes him crave the warmth back again.
But he can’t take his words back if not for Seungyoun to pounce directly on them and hold it over his head, so Wooseok plays it down instead, replying cooly, “Perhaps one day when you stop attempting to maim me.”
“Our Wooseokie—,” Seungyoun begins, piling an overtly fake amount of nauseating sweetness into his cooing, “It’s been days since you were knocked out unconscious, and gotta say, it’s a bit of a shame that the fall didn’t make you more gracious.”
“Asshole,” Wooseok shoots back bluntly in retaliation. But despite the harsh sounding words, coupled with biting inflection, there’s still fond affection in Seungyoun’s expression reflected back at him. It's an accustomed routine, that they never take each other's jibes to heart.
Seungyoun moves to sweep the bangs from Wooseok's eyes. The motion is tender. “You know I like it when you’re a little mean. It means you’re back to normal.”
As he sits up in bed, Wooseok replies soullessly, “Always knew you were a high key masochist.”
“Only for you,” Seungyoun winks, and Wooseok wrinkles his nose in distaste. He slowly reaches up to touch the side of his face that he remembers hitting the ground when he eat dirt. It feels particularly ridged and raised across his cheekbone. Seungyoun tracks his movements, and as if reading Wooseok’s mind, he explains, “You split it right open so it’s going to take a while for the scar to heal fully. Don’t worry, it’s currently hidden with a glamor spell and it’ll go away soon enough, pretty boy.”
Being called 'pretty' isn't anything new, considering it wouldn’t be a normal day in Wooseok’s life if he didn’t catch at least one hushed whisper in the corridor about his beauty whenever he’s doing his prefect rounds, not to brag or anything.
However, every time that little term of endearment leaves Seungyoun’s mouth, Wooseok's stomach always does a small tumble. It's sickening.
“Not your pretty boy,” Wooseok huffs out, not willing to let Seungyoun know his inner thoughts, but Seungyoun just looks at him with an all-knowing expression, as if he knows exactly how much Wooseok does in fact like the nickname despite his outward prickling.
"So you've said, time and again." Seungyoun pats Wooseok's cheek gently. "Anyway, now that we’ve established your face is still perfect, does everything else work fine? Your arm?” Seungyoun asks, scanning Wooseok from head to toe, “Madame Bae was meant to have mended all the bones you broke in the fall. Quick, move it—”
Wooseok wants to protest at the Seungyoun’s nagging, but in the face of the other male’s unbending command, Wooseok is rendered silent so he just obediently waves the arm in question through the air in order to satisfy Seungyoun.
He ends up with a 'good boy' pat on the head this time in return—Seungyoun treating him like a helpless child makes him want to let out a further snarky comment, but he’s tired and the way that patting becomes a stroking action instead, somehow manages to soothe him, so his mouth shuts close automatically to pass up the argument.
Wooseok blames it on his concussion. He’s probably not quite right still.
They stay like that for a few minutes with Seungyoun now chattering away about what exactly happened, filling in Wooseok’s patchy memory of the accident. Wooseok's only half-listening because the way that Seungyoun’s hand is still threading through the strands of his hair makes Wooseok almost wants to purr out loud like a cat.
He doesn’t of course—only because it’s immensely irksome how Seungyoun always seems to have this overwhelming sway over Wooseok.
Truthfully, Wooseok wants to be mad.
He wants to be pissed off at the way that he’s 1) obviously lost the snitch, 2) lost it to Seungyoun of all people. But regrettably, with the way that Seungyoun is currently looking at him with the most endearing, lopsided smile on his face, Wooseok just can’t find it in himself to be angry.
Goddamnit. He’s become too weak.
“—It’s definitely my fault and I’ll accept all responsibility for your injury. I should have pulled out of the drop earlier instead of being so stubborn in wanting to catch the snitch.” Seungyoun frowns, forehead creasing in thought as he moves to squeeze back down on Wooseok’s left hand once more, like magnet to magnet. “But you know me.”
Wooseok rolls his eyes. Yes, he knows Seungyoun very well.
The other seeker would have gone through every single kind of hell possible before he’d let the snitch go.
But considering that Wooseok had all choice in the matter to pull out of the flight himself, and Seungyoun couldn’t help the bludger that had come careening through to smash into his broom, Wooseok knows it isn’t Seungyoun’s fault at all.
But not if he milks it a little first.
“You better accept all responsibility for me forever then,” Wooseok petulantly answers in return as he tries his hardest to untangle their hands but Seungyoun seems unwilling to break contact, if anything, just presses down more firmly. “Let go, you’re like a furnace,” Wooseok whines.
Foolish, clingy Gryffindor boy who always refuses to listen to him.
“Quit being an ice prince, you know that you love whenever I hold your hand since I don’t get to do it often,” Seungyoun pouts, and sends Wooseok the entire force of the puppy-dog eyes that he knows firsthand that Wooseok is entirely susceptible to.
“Stop that,” Wooseok says sternly. It’s only because he’s had years of practice of resisting Seungyoun’s charms, that he’s able to suppress the smile that threatens to erupt on his face at how damned cute Seungyoun is being right now. “You're not allowed to do that.”
“Do what?” Seungyoun sings out coyly as his thumb continues stroking against Wooseok’s skin, which sends him unwanted goosebumps.
His body is entirely traitorous.
“You know exactly what, you deviant,” Wooseok huffs exasperatedly. “C’mon, what if someone sees,” he hisses, eyes quickly jerking side to side.
“No one is here.” Seungyoun chuckles, that same low tone one that always seems to wrap around Wooseok like a comforting blanket. Honestly, he can’t even pin point the day that it started to affect him like that. “Anyway, sorry, Seok-ah. I think the entire jig is up.”
“What do you mean.” Wooseok eyes narrow as he sees Seungyoun holds up one of his hands defensively, as he shrugs.
“This whole secret relationship thing,” Seungyoun gestures between them. He sighs dramatically. “I know you wanted to keep the fact that we’re dating hidden until grad, but the moment I saw you in a heap on the ground, I screamed bloody murder and cried all over your half-dead body.”
“Did you actually,” Wooseok asks dryly, arching his eyebrow.
“Hmm perhaps not.” Seungyoun smiles sheepishly now. “It was probably more the fact that everyone kind witnessed my insistence on not leaving the Hospital Wing in order to be by your side. Madame Bae refused to let me stay the night though, so I had to bribe Jinhyuk with my entire life-savings to distract her so I could slip in today. I may have to give up my quidditch career and trade in my broom.”
Wooseok shoves at him slightly as he becomes aware of the way his cheeks burn a little, and the slow burgeoning heat that glimmers in his chest. Typical Cho Seungyoun. Always masking his sweet sentimentality with his candid humor to catch Wooseok off guard, and always able to reduce him into his softest self, despite his strong resistance.
Just like the way that Seungyoun’s laughter had somehow become entirely comforting to Wooseok one day—Wooseok can’t remember the particular defining moment that their relationship became much more than just their push and pull.
It used to be just: Wooseok against Seungyoun, or Seungyoun against Wooseok. But even if their competitive nature still extends to this day—it’s now become the both of them against the world together, pushing each other to be constantly better versions of their selves and Wooseok wouldn’t trade it for anything.
As Wooseok grew up and matured over the years, he’s learned the most important lesson: that being Seungyoun’s (secret) boyfriend, and being Seungyoun’s rival doesn’t necessarily have to be mutually exclusive terms.
Seungyoun continues on, tone turning slightly contemplative, “Minhee also questioned my motives suspiciously for a little while when he dropped by to visit, but I think that kid, as weird as he is, is smart as hell. He obviously figured things out quite a while ago.”
Wooseok ducks his head down before mumbling, “That might be my fault… ” he coughs awkwardly, “It was the day you had caught the snitch early on in the last Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw match. There were these Slytherin first year toe-rags who were running their mouth about how you were abusing using Felix Felicis. If they had just watched any of your other matches, they’d know you would never need to use a luck potion. Anyway, Minhee overhead me telling them off and I might have been a little…passionate about it.”
Seungyoun looks delighted as he exclaims jubilantly, “Kim Wooseok, Slytherin ice prince extraordinaire, defending me?” Seungyoun pauses before adding mischievously, "Despite the sabotage accusations today?"
“Shut it, only I’m allowed to be mean to you, not anyone else,” Wooseok says grouchily as his fist opens and closes against the bedspread. “And it's wasn't just about cheating, but they were also using you to say prejudiced shit about Gryffindor and muggle borns which is highly unacceptable. Someone had to make sure that they were taught a lesson even if it meant deducting points from my own house.”
“Watch out world, our model Head Boy is coming for ya." There's an obnoxiously proud look on Seungyoun's face. "Anyway, I’m remembering this day forever,” he sings out, now clutching the left corner of his chest, directly over where his heart was situated. “This is as close to a verbal love confession that I’m going to get. I’ve been waiting for it since the day you finally let me kiss you.”
Wooseok slings his arm across his face, feeling completely flustered. “I don’t know why out of all the people in the world, I fell for you.”
“That’s because you are a man of great taste, and I'll always be irresistible to you,” Seungyoun declares with the confidence of only a Gryffindor. “Now scoot over and just let me have this.” He nudges Wooseok to move over in order to make space for him. Crawling under the covers, Seungyoun pulls Wooseok close and despite Wooseok’s initial reluctance, (considering Madame Bae or worse, any of their friends, could return soon enough) he melts into the embrace, nestling his head onto Seungyoun’s chest. "I'll give you the snitch I caught and you can destroy it if you want."
It doesn't fail to pull out a small bubble of laughter from Wooseok. He feels the tension coiled through his body release. Sure, they'll always be rivals, but that doesn't mean Wooseok can't find happiness in Seungyoun either.
Wooseok lets the comfortable silence sit for several beats before he finally says in a quiet voice, “I hope you know that even if I don’t show it much, and how the way you always catch me off guard is so frustrating, you’ll still always be my person.” Seungyoun doesn’t reply verbally, but Wooseok swears he can hear the sped up thuds of the heartbeats under his ear. “Number one, Cho Seungyoun.”
"Calling me your number one means that I'm the keeper of your heart, right?"
"Go to sleep now, or die."